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tealin · 4 years

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Basler to the Beardmore 2: Errands

As always, no matter what Tumblr does with it, this post is available in its intended presentation at twirlynoodle.com/blog along with the rest of my Antarctic travel diary.

On this flight to the heart of Antarctica, I was only a hanger-on. We had two errands to run before entertaining me and my historical interests, the most important of which was restocking a fuel depot at the base of the Transantarctic Mountains.

There are many busy science teams in Antarctica, and while some renewable energy sources are starting to be used, the fact is that everything runs on a reliable supply of fossil fuels, mostly petrol. The aircraft that keep people and their essentials moving around the continent have a network of fuel depots, both for relay stops and for emergencies. Contrary to some conspiracy theories, anyone can fly to and around Antarctica if they have the money and resources to get there, and many do. As the national science programmes have a very tight margin, and their fuel depots are expensive to maintain, they cannot afford jet-setters raiding their supplies, so the locations of these depots are kept secret. Therefore I am not going to tell you where our first stop was. The chances of a private pilot reading this blog are slim, but it may be possible to deduce from my photos where this particular cache is: if you are that outlier, I hereby ask you please to do the decent thing and leave the fuel alone – or if you absolutely must access it, then let the USAP know what you've taken and make good on it as soon as you can. Everyone in Antarctica looks out for each other, and that includes you. OK? OK.

So, we've taken off, and done our acrobatics to get the skis up, and are now facing a couple of hours' flight time before we reach our primary destination. There is, quite frankly, nothing between Williams Field and the Transantarctic Mountains, besides hundreds of miles of the Ross Ice Shelf. This was known as 'The Barrier' to the early explorers, because when James Clark Ross sailed down to explore in 1840 it was a great while wall that prevented his ships from going any further. In later years it wasn't so much a barrier as a highway – clear and flat, and not much off sea level, it provided a route deep into the high latitudes without the perils of the high windy Polar Plateau. Among people who frequently travel out there, it is sometimes referred to as 'the Flat White' – my impression is that this term came from the Kiwis, and the espresso drink of the same name is also antipodean in origin, so I wonder which came first. It is undeniably Flat, and White (though the refraction of sunlight through ice crystals makes it look anything from peachy to periwinkle, depending on the angle), but none of its various names communicate just how big it is.

I have flown over the Canadian tundra many times, and over the Greenland ice cap, but the view from 35,000 feet is like looking at satellite view in Google Maps compared to flying at cloud level, where the parallax with the horizon gives you a much keener sense of distance. The Barrier is BIG. In fact, 'big' is too small a word to communicate it. 'Massive', 'mammoth', and 'gargantuan' are more melodramatic than descriptive. Its vastness puts all of human consciousness, never mind vocabulary, in proper perspective. For my money, it outdoes the night sky as a visual approximation of infinity.

Getting a sense of its size, especially in a still photo, is difficult without an object for scale. For your education and my good fortune, we happened to fly over the RAID convoy as they made their way from the Minna Bluff site to where the Ross Ice Shelf meets the Antarctic continent. Rapid Access Ice Drilling has been supporting various scientific projects for a few years now, whether their interest is in the ice itself (its trapped air gives a record of Earth's atmosphere in millennia past) or what's underneath (marine environments far removed from the open sea; the bed of an accelerating glacier). Their units are about the size of a shipping container, and are pulled by enormous tractors, so if they are this dwarfed by the Flat White, imagine how much more puny a sledge party would be.

Before too much longer we were at the depot. Landing at an Antarctic field airstrip is even more complicated than taking off: we circled once, to do a visual check, then skimmed it with the skis to make sure no hidden crevasses had opened up since the last time someone landed here, then finally touched down for real on the third go-round. The plane crew rapidly got to work unloading the fuel drums; I offered to help but was assured I wasn't needed, so spent the time taking photographs and mucking around in the snow.

The first thing that struck me was how beautiful the mountains were in colour. The best photos I've seen of them have been black and white, so the rich variety in shades was remarkable. What you can't see in this small photo was how the lighter rock was banded with strata of blue-grey and orange-brown sandstone, giving it a luxurious marbled effect.

I've read a lot about how conditions on the Barrier are so much different than on the coast. This was far deeper into it than I was ever expecting to set foot, but I was surprised how tame it was. Now, it was an idyllically calm and sunny day – had it been any different we would not have been there – so the only time I realised that it was actually much colder than McMurdo was when a slight breeze wafted past my bare hand and broke the warm spell that the sunshine had cast.

What was different was the snow. Around McMurdo, the snowbanks which did build up had been repeatedly blown over with volcanic dust which warmed up in the sun and made the snow gritty, icy, and rotten – if you live in a snowy city, think of the texture of snowbanks alongside busy roads. Out here, there was nothing but snow, all the way down to where it became ice – powder blown off the mountains, maybe even off the Polar Plateau, deposited here to be compacted in the sun and polished by the wind. The crust made by these processes was smooth and, in many places, thick enough to support my weight, so I hardly left a footprint – a 'good pulling surface' as sledgers would have it – but without warning there would be a thin spot where my foot would break through and sink in the sugar-like snow below.

Before long, the crew had finished their restock, and playtime was over. After our exciting takeoff manoeuvres, we started climbing the mountains to the second of our tasks for the day.

The Transantarctic Mountains, according to our pilot, are still something of a mystery. They are a very high mountain range, but unlike the Rockies for example, they show little or no sign of buckling or other geological forces – they seem to have been lifted whole, keeping their layers of sandstone and coal and fossil-rich deposits mostly flat, with occasional intrusions of igneous rock. The range acts as a sort of massively oversized dyke, holding back the miles-deep polar ice cap from spilling over West Antarctica, the Ross Ice Shelf, and the Ross Sea, as the mountains cross the continent.

Ice appears to be solid, but it actually behaves more like a stiff jelly or fondant icing – if it finds a change in altitude it will flow, very slowly, downhill. This is what a glacier is: snow gets deposited over many years without melting, turns to ice, and when its volume can no longer be held at elevation, starts to creep down the valley. The ice of the Polar Plateau finds gaps in the Transantarctic Mountains and pushes through them, forming glaciers which pour out onto the Ross Sea and, merging, form the Ross Ice Shelf. The Beardmore Glacier is one of the largest of these, but there are hundreds of smaller ones, and many tributary glaciers that feed these. In flying over the lower Transantarctic Mountains, there were plenty of opportunities to see ice dynamics at work:

Our destination was up near the head of a narrow glacier, where it broadened out into a snowy plain called the Bowden Névé – névé being a term for young snow which has not yet compacted into glacial ice but is in a position to do so. This was CTAM (pronounced see-tam), a geology camp established to be a hub for teams doing work in the Central TransAntarctic Mountains. The névé afforded an open, soft, flat place to land planes carrying supplies and people, who could then move on to less accessible places overland. At least, it did, until a wind event a few years ago scoured deep furrows in the landing strip.

As we flew over, doing the visual check, I was astonished the site could be spotted at all, as it was only a small clutch of bamboo poles in the vast expanse.

Having proven that the landing strip was landable, the next task was to see what condition the building was in. What building, you ask? Why, the one completely covered in snow, under the markers. Once upon a time it was a couple of modules standing on the surface of the glacier, but Antarctica gradually swallowed them up, so now one has to dig down through the snow to reach the roof hatch, eight feet above the floor.

On the way from the Basler to the camp site, I was treated to one signature snow effect I had missed out on, at the depot. 'The Barrier Hush' is frequently mentioned in journals: it was described as a 'whoosh' or a 'hush-shh-shhhh' that sighed out from underneath the walker as he broke through the top crust into a pocket of air underneath, where the loose snow had settled after the top crust was formed. The pocket could sometimes extend quite a long way from where the crust was broken and the sound followed the exchange of air as far as it went. It would startle the ponies and excite the dogs, until they learned there was nothing to chase and catch.

I was walking some way behind the plane crew as they made for the camp with shovels, and suddenly heard what I thought was a small whirlwind – a sharp and intense, almost whistling sound that seemed to race across my path. This being the sort of place one would expect to see dust devils (or snow devils, I suppose they would be) I looked around to see where it was, but the air was as still up here as it had been down on the ice shelf. It was only after the second or third time it happened that I realised what it was – it was so completely not how I had imagined the Barrier Hush to sound. If you make a little whirlwind sound by whisper-whistling whshwshywshwhwwsh with your lips really quickly, that's what it sounded like. Having heard it, now, I can completely understand how the dogs would have thought there was a small creature scurrying around under the snow. It sounded much more animate than it had been described. I felt so lucky to be let into that secret.

The crew got the hatch open and the first of them climbed down into the pitch darkness to report everything OK. The rest followed, and invited me along, but I am not the most coordinated travelling artist, and couldn't see a way down for me that didn't end in a concussion. So I stayed above while they explored the submerged camp, and enjoyed the view. It was really spectacular – not just the stunning mountains but the thin, brittle blue of the sky and the hardness of the sunlight, as if the whole world were a taut drumskin.

And, best of all, from here the horizon was the Polar Plateau – another Flat White stretching to the South Pole and beyond.

#antarctica #travel #basler #dc3 #CTAM #air freight #mountains #transantarctic mountains #bowden neve #geology #field camp #photos

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savannahsdrabbles · 4 years

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Ocean Song - Part One

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: An AU originally based off of the 2012 TMNT universe, but can be compatible with most versions of the characters. <3 2.7k words. A03 link can be found here. Also special thanks to @cloakedrabbit and @starfiretheninja for beta-reading!

Looking back on the past couple of days’ events, April should have realized that kidnapping an endangered creature was a bad idea.

Well, scratch that.

Maybe attempting to break into a high security laboratory was where she went wrong. Or –

“This is totally wicked!” Casey Jones hollered from the driver’s seat as they took another sharp turn, tires spinning and spitting gravel up into the windshield wipers that were already working overtime. The creature in the backseat squawked and flailed as he skidded across the torn upholstery, desperately trying to sink his claws into something to keep from being thrown about like a rag doll.

“Slow down – and calm down!” The red-head snapped first towards the driver, and then over her shoulder at their passenger as she rapidly typed away on her laptop. A large jolt suddenly rocked the Jeep to one side and then the other, and April threw her arms out as a scream escaped her mouth. “CASEY! BRIDGE!”

Okay. So there were a lot of things that went wrong.

***

“Here we are!” A voice called loudly, causing April to jerk her head up and nearly lose an earbud in the process. “Now I know you’ve told me before, but remind me – what class is this project for? I don’t recall having to do anything like this until I’d reached graduate school.”

April smiled as she rose from her seat and shouldered an air tank onto her back. She carefully pulled the earbuds from her ears and tucked them into the bag of dry clothes she’d brought, then paused to looked out across the ocean. The sky was overcast that afternoon, leaving glare so minimal that even as the boat chugged to a stop beneath them, she was almost certain she could spy movement in the water below. “It’s for a dual-credit course. My science instructor knows that Dad is stationed here and that I study under him, so he said that I could use some of my research work as a science credit.”

“My word,” The fourty-something Japanese man at the stern shook his head in amusement as he pulled a lever to lower the anchor. The ship responded with a groan, lurching slightly at the movement, and the air was soon filled with a steady clack-clack-clack as chains were steadily released into the depths. “I swear, April – you work more than most kids your age. It’s a wonder you even have time to consider college courses. And you’re only – what – sixteen?”

“Seventeen as of last month,” April shrugged lightly and fought back an amused eyeroll as she continued to adjust her gear and flippers. Once she was certain they were secure, the girl reached for her camera and looped the strap over her wrist. She’d known Miles for a few months at this point and was pretty sure that they’d had this exact conversation every time they spoke. Her dad joked that his memory retention was about as long as that of the goldfishthat he studied. “Thankfully most of the college stuff is online, so I don’t have to worry about dealing with all of the paperwork from moving between schools. So it’s not too bad.”

“Ah. Well then, I won’t keep you from your schoolwork any longer.” Miles tapped his wrist and jerked his chin towards the cloudy sky before moving towards the stairs that led below deck. Typically the rule was to never dive alone, but… “Remember, one hour tops, and then I have to check the boat back in for the evening – no exceptions.”

“I know, I know – see you in a bit!” Positioning herself on the side of the boat, April fitted the mouthpiece from her tank into place, flashed an okay sign, and then pushed herself backwards into the rolling waves.

***

No matter how many times she dove, April could never not be amazed by the sheer beauty of the sea.She often wondered if she’d feel the same had her dad chosen a different line of work, but she ultimately pushed those thoughts aside and chose to simply be grateful that she’d always had the opportunity to live near open water. It was, after all, one of the only consistent things in her life.

She couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times that she had moved in her short life. Once or twice a year, her dad was reassigned to a new zoo or university and that meant uprooting everything and moving to the next body of water. Everywhere from Florida to Quebec to now Osaka – a large port city in Japan – had served as a temporary place of residence to April, her father, and the rest of the research team.

“Don’t worry, Pumpkin,” Kirby O’Neil had smiled at April over his mug of hot chocolate – a relocation announcement tradition in the O’Neil household. April remembered scowling into her own mug in response. “I spoke to the Board, and they’re willing to keep us in Osaka at least until you’ve graduated from high school. That way you can finish out your diploma in one place!”.

Five months later and the Board – a maniacal creature seemingly dedicated to repositioning its prisoners at random – had remained true to its word. April had quickly settled into the Japanese immersion class at her high school and was actually doing quite well in the school environment – enough so that the headmaster had paired her with another immersion student to help tutor him in math.

Casey Jones was an up-and-coming hockey player, the oldest child of the English Foreign Language teacher, and a big pain in the butt. Even though he was scheduled to graduate later that year, Casey seemed bound and determined to fail all of his classes – meaning that he and April spent more than the intended amount of time studying and hanging out together.

“It’s just you and me against Japan, Red,” Casey often joked as he would flash her a gap-toothed grin. “Us immigrants gotta stick together.”

If not for his cocky attitude and constant flirting, April might have thought that he was cute.

Might.

April gave a few kicks as she allowed thoughts of school to drift away and happily rolled in the cool water. Several silver fish darted out of her way as she sank lazily past, raising her camera in time to capture a couple of photos. Her blue eyes widened in awe as a class of clownfish and several jellyfish followed, and she rapidly snapped several pictures before they could float out of range. The water grew rapidly colder and darker with every few feet, aided by the clouds that were constantly drifting in front of the sun. Minutes slowly ticked away as her distance from the bobbing boat lengthened until it was no more than a misshapen shadow on the surface of the water above.

Thick, twisted chunks of orange and pink coral and a forest of seaweed eventually began to rise up around her, and she paused in the shadow of a particularly large structure to glance at the time on her camera screen – only twenty minutes left before she had to head for the surface. Yikes – that didn’t leave very long to get more decent shots.

She furrowed her brow in thought – maybe she could convince Miles or another research assistant to bring her out again tomorrow -?

Suddenly, a burst of movement out of the corner of her eye grabbed April’s attention and sent her reeling backwards against the coral. Hundreds of tiny fish blew past her in a frantic, unorganized mass, the undertow tearing at the surrounding seaweed and adding to the chaos and confusion. Before she could right herself, a much larger form shot after the fish, closely followed by another of similar size. The masses cut through the water without a glance in her direction, clearly intent on their prey and unaware that they had been seen.

April gasped as she righted herself and stared at the large, rapidly moving shapes that were quickly disappearing into the distance – what the heck had she just seen? For a moment she wanted to brush it off as simply two seals hunting dinner, but something made her hesitate. Something was off.

Heart pounding, she slowly peeled herself off of the coral wall and ducked into the thick seaweed. Once she was sure that she wouldn’t be spotted, April raised her camera and aimed it at the creatures. By now they were far enough away that the camera wouldn’t focus, but this confirmed what she’d thought she’d seen. Those were not the usual side to side movements that most fish travelled by, or even an up and down motion like dolphins or seals would use – these things had arms and legs that they were kicking like human beings.

Still not acknowledging April’s presence, the two creatures suddenly split up and each silently moved to one side of the school of fish. They then began to duck and weave, almost dancing with each other as they continued to direct the fish into a tighter and more condensed mass.

The numbers on April’s camera screen blinked a warning, reminding her that she only had a few more minutes before she needed to head to the surface, but she shoved the thought aside. She had to get closer.

With one hand firmly clutching her camera, April pushed off of the coral and began to propel herself through the clinging seaweed. The creatures had already put several dozen yards between herself and them, but appeared to be slowing as they closed in on their prey.

Moving through the dense seaweed was more difficult than her targets had made it look, however. The girl grimaced as her limbs repeatedly got tangled in thick pieces of the plant, slowing her motion until she tore them loose. She was almost to the edge of the seaweed when the bigger of the two let out a sharp clicking noise, causing April to freeze in place.

Before she could determine what was happening, a net appeared between the two beings and they cast it across the fish. The smaller creature then reached for a long strand of seaweed that had been wrapped around his forearm and tied the bag shut, thoroughly trapping their dinner. He squealed and clicked in pride, sounding like a dolphin that had just performed a trick and was now expecting a treat. The larger creature chirped in response and reached out to pat the smaller one on the head.

April kicked forward, mind reeling as she struggled to comprehend what she was witnessing, when a thick piece of seaweed tangled itself around her thigh and brought her chase to a stop. The sudden change in momentum caught her off guard, and April flailed her arms around in surprise – only for her camera to slip from her grasp. The small device, now free of anything weighing it down, rocketed towards the surface as the girl let out an exasperated string of curses that were only just masked by her mouthpiece.

Eyes straining to not lose the creatures amidst the bubbles that had stirred up around her, April violently jerked her leg to snap the seaweed. When the clinging inhibitor only seemed to tighten in response, she let out a huff of frustration and reached down to quickly untangle her leg. What met her fingertips, however, was not part of the slimy plants that surrounded her.

The girl let out a muffled stream of bubbles as she twisted around and gasped sharply. The dark tentacle around her leg tightened in response, and several more shot out from the shifting forest to pull at her arms and hair. April instinctively reached for the emergency knife on her belt, but the massive squid let out a fierce grumble as its tentacles tightened around her arms and pinned them to her sides. April’s heart pounded loudly in her ears as she struggled fruitlessly and let out a garbled yell of panic.

Had she been diving with a team, the others would have stepped in at this moment to help her get away. But now here she was, alone and trapped with her only hope nearly twenty minutes away from even beginning to question where she was.

Am I going to die down here?

Just as another tentacle snaked forward to tug at her airline, the water around her erupted into bubbles and April felt herself being violently thrown back and forth. The tentacles remained firmly wrapped around her body, but she felt their grip slacken ever so slightly as two blurs rammed into the squid’s head with claws outstretched. Blood filled the water as the squid flailed beneath its attackers, scaly skin tearing underneath their claws.

April screamed again as one of the creatures suddenly turned on her, eyes wide and ghostly white, and then began to violently attack the limbs holding her tight.

Even as she was being tossed back and forth, April could tell that the creature fighting for her freedom was like nothing she had ever seen in her research. Shape-wise, the creature appeared to be a mix between a human and a turtle, roughly several inches shorter than she was. The terrapin was a pale olive color, covered from head to toe with splotches of purple scales. Thick claws protruded from large, rounded limbs and with each swipe it was clear that they were sharp enough to cut through flesh without much effort. A ramshackle string of lavender stones hung from one of the terrapin’s upper arms, somehow not getting cut or knocked off during the fight, and a quick glance told April that the other creature bore similar decorations on its own body.

When the thrashing tentacles finally began to loosen, the turtle nearest to her grabbed April beneath the armpits and quickly jerked her out of their confinement while the other continued to distract the squid. The turtle’s claws dug into her sides painfully as it held her to its plastron and began to swim awayupwards, causing April to cry out and kick her legs in panic. A series of sharp clicks echoed in April’s ears as she fought, and then several things happened all at once.

The water erupted with even more noise and movement – though April hardly believed it possible – and then the arms around her slackened and fell away, almost immediately to be replaced by several pairs of hands that she could recognize as being human. The next few minutes happened as a blur – she vaguely remembered several decompression stops as they ascended, each accompanied by hands gently patting her body and checking for injury – but before she knew it, they were breaking the surface of the water. There her world continued to move in a confusing blur of shapes and colors as more hands hooked under her arms and heaved her on deck, where her diving equipment was quickly stripped away and replaced with warm towels and gentle touches.

April blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging as they adjusted to the sudden brightness. “What – ”

“We’ve got you, Little One,” A female biologist that April recognized from her father’s crew came into view amongst the blur of movement and blankets being piled on her shoulders, her face creased in maternal concern. “Delta Team was out patrolling and pulled up right alongside Miles just as your camera surfaced – we were afraid something terrible had happened to you! And – oh, you’re bleeding!”

“I –”

Miles’ voice suddenly broke through the chaos. “Give us a hand – we’ve got something big!”

Rina’s head jerked around to look at something out of April’s line of sight, and then she wrapped her arms around the girl and turned her away from the ruckus occurring on the other boat. The woman muttered something softly in Japanese, her eyes widening as she pulled April tighter against her body. “Oh my word…”

“What’s going on?” April turned against the arms holding her right as a full net thudded onto the deck she’d been on less than an hour ago. The large mass inside of it was curled inward and bleeding slightly, but one limp arm was clearly visible, bearing a bracelet of string and lavender stones.

Next Chapter

#savannah drabbles #rottmnt #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt au #sea turtles au

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perfectirishgifts · 3 years

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Sunday Conversation: Fleet Foxes On Making ‘Shore,’ Being Backstage With Paul McCartney And Neil Young And More

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/sunday-conversation-fleet-foxes-on-making-shore-being-backstage-with-paul-mccartney-and-neil-young-and-more/

Sunday Conversation: Fleet Foxes On Making ‘Shore,’ Being Backstage With Paul McCartney And Neil Young And More

NEWPORT, RHODE ISLAND – JULY 28: Robin Noel Pecknold of the Fleet Foxes performs during “If I Had A … [] Song”, closing the 60th annual Newport Folk Festival 2019 at Fort Adams State Park on July 28, 2019 in Newport, Rhode Island. (Photo by Douglas Mason/WireImage)

In September Fleet Foxes released their fourth album, Shore. The collection, a surprise announced just the day before its September 22 release, is a sterling 15-track package of songs that has ended up on numerous best of year-end lists.

I spoke with Fleet Foxes mastermind Robin Pecknold who told me the album was begun pre COVID, then finished in isolation during the pandemic. And in terms of the surprise release, Pecknold admits he was partially inspired by Taylor Swift’s Folklore.

During the course of our very engaging conversation Pecknold took me through the making of the album, what it was like to be in a conversation with Neil Young and Paul McCartney and how his songs have changed over the years.

Steve Baltin: How is it in New York City now?

Robin Pecknold: It’s alright, it’s getting a little colder, which is feeling good. They’re installing permanent outdoor dining in all the restaurants so it feels a bit like a permanent music festival, lot of tents everywhere. But it’s been good all things considered.

Baltin: How long have you lived in New York?

Pecknold: I’ve been here on and off for like six years or so.

Baltin: Where was Shore written?

Pecknold: Some stuff in Portugal, I took a couple weeks and went to Portugal, and then mostly in my apartment in New York.

Baltin: I am always a big believer in how environment affects writing. So does the stuff you wrote in Portugal feel different to you then the stuff written in New York?

Pecknold: I can’t say it was actually entirely written in New York, but I did kind of write some stuff in Portugal. We were working in a studio in France where I ended up writing some stuff. And then worked in a studio in L.A. where I was writing a lot. And, like you were saying, I had the thought maybe at some point to make my own little studio space to work in, but then I also love variety and I think variety is super important to how a record turns out. And I wouldn’’t want to feel obligated to only work in one space I guess, as I spend a bunch of money setting it up for that reason, but maybe someday. I think, for writing chord progressions and stuff that can happen anywhere, and a lot of that I just did in my bedroom. But then writing songs, it’s good to buy a new guitar or go to some place in the woods, or whatever it is, to kind of get out of the routine mind set.

Baltin: For you this is a very global album, what was the time spent that it was written and recorded then? I am assuming it predates COVID then?

Pecknold: It does definitely predate COVID. I started working on this right at the end of the Crack Up tour. September 2018 I started writing songs for this kind of knowing that it can take me a while to write stuff and I wanted to have something out within three years of that album, even though we did a two-year tour. So I had to kind of just keep going after that was done. Um, and so most of the music was done by February of 2020, but I didn’t have any lyrics written and there were a couple gaps in the track listing. It totally pre-dates COVID. I was kind of confused about how to finish it once the pandemic hit, when and how it should come out, or if I should even put the time and money into finishing it at all, but I’m glad that it came together like how it did.

Baltin: So at what point did you make the decision to put it out? Why a surprise release.

Pecknold: It was sometime in June or July, cause the big bottleneck was having lyrics to record and I didn’t have any. And that was just like, “Who knows when these will happen, this could take until the end of fall. This could drag on forever if I can’t get these lyrics done.” But then they just kind of started happening in a way I wasn’t really expecting in June. Once that happened I was like, “Okay great, I have all these lyrics I can record, so I can actually finish this damn album now.” Then in July I had to start thinking about that ‘when it’s going to come out’ and I think a few days before that Taylor Swift album came out and I was like “I just want to put it out a couple weeks after it’s done. If I have to do that on Bandcamp so be it.” And then, that happened and that emboldened me to do that because, she’s obviously much more successful, but someone else publicly releasing music was thinking along those same lines just that this uncertainty will continue for who knows how long. So it was kind of in July that the September release plan came together. And tying it to the equinox felt really good cause it was on a Tuesday. Albums used to come out on Tuesday and I used to love that. And that felt like tying it to something that didn’t have anything to do with politics or with the stresses of 2020, the societal stresses. It’s a gamble, who knows if that was the best idea in the long run but it’s worth it to me to just have it off my mental plate.

Baltin: Was there a turning point where you started to feel like the songs were coming in a direction for you or the lyrics started to manifest themselves?

Pecknold: Yeah, like I said, I went right into making this album right after the last tour and so that was two years of touring. I guess there is some stuff people write about, exhaustion on tour or make albums about that. I didn’t have like a big break up I wanted to write about. I was just kind of making music or thinking about music for like four years straight. So I didn’t feel like I had a lot to write about before the pandemic. But then having this like three-month forced reflection time when there’s this long overdue emphasis on social justice and systemic injustice and class consciousness that was not being paid enough attention to the last few years. And just feeling grateful to have a roof over my head and to not know anyone who’s passed but also feeling an impetus to keep the memory of the dead alive in some way musically and lyrically. I guess all of the lyrical ideas I found for the album were totally just resultant from lock down and the pandemic, and without that I wouldn’t have had anything to really write about.

Baltin: Writing is such a subconscious thing, so we’re there lyrics that when you go back and look at them that really kind of surprised you?

Pecknold: Yeah, I think there is a lyric in the song “Featherweight” that talks about making life harder for yourself, something I would have definitely done in the past, out of success coming too easy, or stuff like that. I would seek out hardship where I found it just to kind of temper the good luck I’ve had. And so, I wasn’t intending to write a song about that, but the lyric kind of came out, “In all this war I’d forgotten how many men might die for what I’d renounce.” That lyric just flowed perfectly with the melody and rhymed perfectly and it was just the first lyric that came out of nowhere and then kind of set the tone for the rest of it.

Baltin: As you get older, I think for everyone, you get more comfortable with yourself. So do you feel like that’s allowed you to get a little more comfortable with the idea of success or the fact that you’ve had the success?

Pecknold: I’m super lucky to be able to make music for a living still. I’m not set for life by any means. I want to continue working and doing exciting things and I intend to keep that energy going. As far as shirking success I can see both sides of that where you would say, “Yeah this is uncomfortable.” I’m super lucky I’m not so well known that I can’t go outside in some fame prison, that seems difficult in some ways. But also those people have all the resources in the world and can mitigate that however they want. I don’t have that experience, I’m pretty anonymous. I’m not like embracing success or chasing it but something feels kind of gross about renouncing it or when it’s a really rare opportunity and a lot of people would kill to be in a position to be able to do that.

Baltin: A lot of people who would kill to be in that position have no idea what it comes with. Is there one artist that you look to as having sort of the role model career, the definitive career of that balance of fame and success and everything?

Pecknold: My answer for this, Charles Ives (laughs). Which is kind of a pretentious answer, but he was an insurance broker and a well respected one, and he won awards in the business and that security allowed him to make this insane innovative classical music, kind of in his spare time, a little bit. I think Charles Ives is my weird answer to that.

Baltin: That’s a great answer. I don’t know who he is. Now I’m curious to go check him out.

Pecknold: He’s experimental and Americana type classical music from a long time ago.

Baltin: My answer is Tom Waits. He can go tour whenever he wants, he’s set from royalties presumably, he’s always got a following. But he can go into the market and no one knows who he is other than you and me and music geeks.

Pecknold: That is the absolute dream. And his success with Anti Records is one of many reasons that we wanted to put out the album with them. He’s actually not that different from Charles Ives in my opinion as someone who is kind of taking American tropes and twisting them and making them their own. 1699

Baltin: Are there songs of yours where you go back and they change for you over time? Are there songs of yours that you have the different appreciation for that have changed over the years?

Pecknold: Yeah definitely. As a lyricist I always start with the melody first. I always want to work as much meaning as I can. I want it to be as coherent as a story or as whatever the lyric is. It’s always the melody first. It can be the kind of thing where one word pops out and then the words that rhyme with that word kind of dictate almost how the lyric flows. So sometimes when I am writing lyrics, I don’t feel that in control because I feel like I have so many restrictions on how it needs to be. And I will look back and be like, “Damn that guy, he was really searching or he was really confused,” in a way that I wasn’t really conscious of in the moment writing it. I think there was song on the Crack-Up album called “Cassius” that was really about walking in protest, but I didn’t know how much I could claim that so it was a little bit imagistic. I felt uncomfortable owning it for some reason, because of who I am. I didn’t want to feel appropriative of the moment. And all of that album, all the lyrics for that were written on November/December 2016 and now were four years up from that. So there is a lot of despair in that album that I have to associate with that winter, that fall.

Baltin: I like the way that you put it, where you’re talking about it, and you’re like, that guy. When you go back and look at stuff, do you feel like it almost is coming from someone else, because it’s subconscious?

Pecknold: Oh, absolutely. There are things that remain, like a work ethic or a set of standards or certain kinds of tastes, but the subconscious stuff that’s happening with lyrics, that was someone else’s work entirely. There is a whole different set of behind the scenes factors going on now verses then. In that Dylan interview where he is like I can’t access that anymore, the guy that wrote those songs, in that 60 Minutes interview. You just hope that whatever you do have access to remains exciting to you I guess. But yeah, I don’t feel like the same person that made those early albums at all.

Baltin: We talked early on about dealing with success and the different feelings that come with that. Are there artists that you’ve gotten to speak to or that you look to that you really admire for the way that they, or the advice that they’ve given you for how to sort of handle that double edge sword?

Pecknold: I guess I have some contemporaries, like the guys in Grizzly Bear or Dirty Projectors, we’ll kind of talk shop about how our “careers” are going or like what we wanna do, or touring, or recording. We’ll of talk shop every once in a while and check in with each other and that’s kind of helpful I think. There was one festival, this was 10 years ago, where I found myself speaking with Neil Young and Paul McCartney. This was the weirdest triangle of people I’ve obviously ever been in. I said literally nothing. I was just shocked at being in that position of standing next to those two guys, and they were talking about something. And then Paul McCartney was like “Oh hey, great album, keep Fleeting.”He just mentioned it in this cheeky kind of Paul McCartney way I think, just this little pun. But I have thought over the years at times of difficulty, I’ve thought, “Keep Fleeting.” In this kind of like way of if, Paul told me to keep fleeting, I must keep fleeting. So that’s as a weirdly minor event, that he probably doesn’t even remember saying it, but you know, those things have deeper resonance than someone intends.

Baltin: Now being older, having more experience in the industry, what would you ask Paul McCartney and Neil Young hanging out with both of them if you felt more comfortable to contribute to the conversation?

Pecknold: I would just ask how they got through certain phases of their career where they were finding some new thing they wanted to do, but they were a couple years off of their biggest albums. How were they keeping excited and what else was on their mind. I guess I would ask those kinds of questions about that as I am kind of moving into that phase a little bit myself, you know, doing this for 10 or 12 years now. I totally agree that you should never lose your fandom and i think it’s almost better just to be guileless enough to be like, “Hey, I’m a big fan, I love your music.” Rather than try to be kind of like, Yeah, we’re peers. Or to ingratiate yourself with someone because you want something from them, that always feels gross to me, and I try to avoid that as much as possible.

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shiningamongdarkness · 3 years

Text

Chapter 39. The Black Prom

Shining among Darkness

By WingzemonX

Chapter 39. The Black Prom

The rented limo took them right to the school gates. From the very entrance, the place was already decorated, almost in a dream. There were lights in all the trees. And from the sidewalk to the door, they had spread a long blue carpet, as if it were the entrance of some awards. Lighted moons and stars had hung, indeed resembling a starry sky.

From her window, Carrie could see that a significant number of guests were arriving, all in beautiful suits and dresses in spring colors. They all laughed and talked among themselves, showing great joy and enthusiasm.

For a moment, the young woman felt overwhelmed and very scared. Tommy made the gesture of wanting to open his door, but she reflexively reached out her hand to him to stop him.

"Can we wait a moment?" Carrie murmured slowly, almost like a plea.

Tommy looked at her a little puzzled.

"Yeah, sure. All the time you want."

Carrie nodded gratefully. Then stared out of her window for a while at the rest of the people who were passing by her limousine and heading inside the school.

"Are you scared?"

"I'm afraid all of this could have been a mistake," the young woman whispered softly.

"They're not bad people, really," Tommy added mockingly. "Besides, I need you there. Dancing alone would surely look silly."

A little giggle escaped from the girl's lips without her really intending to. That single comment somehow managed to lighten a bit the heavy burden that she carried with her. Perhaps not all, but part of it.

"Ok, let's go."

Tommy got out first and turned the vehicle around to open the door for her. The two of them walked side by side across the blue carpet toward the entrance, and with each step, Carrie felt accompanied by the pounding of her heart. But even more important than being taken by Tommy Ross's arm was the feeling of entering that place along with all the other attendees, as one of them. They were all there for the same reason: to enjoy that night and have fun like never before. And she was part of it now, no more and no less.

The initial hit of the loud music and lights was at first somewhat stunning for Carrie. The place was almost dark, except for the large reflectors in the ceilings that reflected lights of different colors and shapes everywhere. The DJ's music echoed with great force in the gym's natural echo, ringing Carrie's sensitive ears, a little more accustomed to the silence and calm of her home.

After the first impression, and once her ears and eyes adjusted, she managed to appreciate all better. During regular school days, she always saw the boys at her school as aliens to her. But at that moment, they all looked so beautiful, almost ethereal. But Carrie was not intimidated but rather fascinated. It was like entering a fantasy world, with glitters, colors, and sounds that couldn't exist where she came from. And all the others were characters in that curious tale.

As they entered, Tommy introduced her to his friend George and her girlfriend Frieda, who were quite friendly. For a moment, Tommy concentrated on greeting George, quite effusively, and Frieda took it upon herself to chat with Carrie while they walked to their table. She was even impressed by her dress, and it was hard to believe that she had done it.

The four of them sat at the table; even the decoration of this one, with its white tablecloths and centerpieces, seemed beautiful to Carrie. Tommy chatted lively with his two friends, and Carrie generally just listened and smiled. There wasn't much she could add to their conversation, and that embarrassed her. She was so inexperienced at hanging out with people that she didn't really have normal talking points, beyond biblical interpretations, sewing, and recently psychic powers. But she was sure none of those topics would be of interest to people like Tommy and his friends.

Her greatest delight, or perhaps suffering, was looking around to appreciate others. They all seemed so happy with their friends, taking photos and dancing. There were already several people dancing to a very moving song, moving with enough grace and rhythm. Carrie found herself suddenly almost mesmerized by the movements they were making, and several of them seemed to her bordering on obscene. The women waving their butts in their tight dresses, reveling in the fact that the boys saw them like this. Men sticking their bodies against their partners, rubbing their crotches against them.

Carrie was appalled for a few moments by all of this but tried not to let the feeling take over. This was how her mother would react (or actually much worse), but not her. All of this had to seem as normal as possible to her... she must.

George and Frieda got up just as another song started and hurried out onto the dance floor. Carrie followed them with her eyes, accompanied by a sincere smile.

"George and Frieda are nice," she pointed out slowly.

"Yes, they are," Tommy replied. "They are good people; there are a lot of good people here." Carrie had no doubt. "You want to dance?"

The sudden proposal created a shock in the young woman, who once again looked in the dance floor's direction, observing and scrutinizing all the movements and steps that those present were performing. Leaving aside their dances' sinfulness, the truth was that she did not know in the least how to do what they did, or at least approach something relatively normal or similar.

"Can we keep talking?" She asked sadly.

"Yes, however you want. We can wait for a slower song if you want."

"Yes, it would be better..."

She had said that, but actually, she doubted if a slow song would be different.

A few minutes later, she could see an adult woman coming straight towards them in the dancing crowd. She had short dark brown hair and wore a bare-arm navy blue dress. She looked incredibly amazed and happy to see her, and Carrie responded to her excitement with a small smile.

"Carrie," muttered Miss Desjardin, the PE teacher. She had hardly recognized her until she was close enough, and Carrie believed it must have been the same in her case.

"Miss Desjardin," Carrie greeted her lightly. "You look beautiful."

"Me? Look to you. You are so pretty."

"Thank you... I don't think that's the case, but thank you."

She glanced sideways as Tommy was standing up from his chair just now.

"Can I leave you a moment?" The boy commented. "Do you want me to get you some punch, Miss Desjardin? I heard they put it a little of Brandy."

Tommy laughed a little right after he made that comment, but Rita Desjardin's stern gaze told him that she didn't share the same sentiment.

"Seriously?"

"No, of course not," he answered quickly, his smile fading. "Just kidding..."

Even Carrie found that a little funny. Tommy walked away to the punch table's direction, and Miss Desjardin sat in the chair right next to the girl.

"I'm glad you decided to come after all."

"I had my doubts, but I spoke with someone who finished convincing me to accept the invitation."

"With whom? Some friend?"

Carrie thought for a few moments. A friend? That was how she could call her? She wasn't really sure about it, but... she liked the very possibility that it could be so.

"Are you doing well?" Miss Desjardin asked her suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts. Carrie just smiled at her and nodded slightly.

The teacher's presence didn't bother her, but it did cause her a bit of discomfort. It wasn't that they had talked much before. She had been the one who stepped in to help her with that shower incident and had brought her to the principal's office, although she had had to slap her to achieve it. Carrie did not blame her for that, and she was grateful. But seeing her right now made her remember that incident in a certain way, and it was what she least wanted to think about in those moments.

Of course, Carrie was unaware of everything Miss Desjardin had done, other than pulling her out of the showers and taking her to Principal Grayle. She did not know how the teacher had reprimanded those involved, or the pressure she had put on Mr. Grayle to impose their harsh punishments, or even how she had imposed herself on Mr. Hargensen when he wanted to reverse his daughter's suspension. If she knew, perhaps then would have understood why she was so happy to see her there... or, maybe relieved was the best word.

"I remember my prom," Miss Desjardin commented, looking over at the rest of the attendees on the floor. Carrie looked at her curiously. "I went with the captain of the basketball team. I was six feet tall, so I went and bought some four-inch heels; so that when we danced, I would look less strange by his side. He passed me by in his truck, but it broke down on the way. Can you believe it?" She gave a little laugh. "And we had to walk the last kilometer to school. And by the time we got there, those damn heels had smashed my feet. You can imagine that I couldn't dance a single piece, and we had to sit all night."

Her expression abruptly changed to being crowned with a nostalgic look.

"But still, it was a wonderful thing." She turned abruptly to Carrie then, making her a little intimidated by the sudden gaze. "Is that how you feel?"

"Well ..." Carrie muttered nervously. "Everything is nice."

"Just nice?"

"No, no... It's like being somewhere else, far from my home. I wouldn't know how to explain it to anyone, I think. It's such a... new feeling."

"Do you think you'll forget it?"

Again, Carrie thought for a bit before answering.

"No... I hope not."

Miss Desjardin smiled with pleasure. She reached out a hand to her, and placed it somewhat firmly on her shoulder.

"Focus on keeping those memories," the teacher murmured solemnly. "The pretty ones, the ones that after many years still make you smile. Not the bad ones..."

Carrie looked at her thoughtfully. She knew exactly what she was referring to... and that brought back that incident again.

"Have fun."

"Thank you," Carrie answered a little colder than she intended.

The teacher smiled at her one last time and then stood up and got back on track. Carrie objectively knew she was trying to give her some advice and help... but she couldn't help but feel some resentment, even so.

Tommy came back a little later with two glasses of punch. Since Miss Desjardin was gone, Carrie accepted the glass for her, although the taste was not entirely pleasant. She was hoping it didn't really have brandy.

"Carrie, do you really have to be at home that early?" The boy asked suddenly. Carrie nodded slightly.

"I promised it."

"Yes, sure, I understand. It's just that several of the guys and I are going to Kelly after the dance, and..."

"Yes, I understand..." Carrie answered suddenly with some regret before he finished what he was going to say. "Don't worry about me, go with your friends. I can go home alone, it's not that far. I always go walking during the week."

"What? No, no... I actually expected you to go with us."

Carrie turned fully toward him, her eyes wide in amazement.

"To... Kelly? I don't think I know her..." Tommy couldn't help but laugh a little. "What? What happens?"

"It's not a she; it's a he. I mean, it's actually a place... kind of like a coffee shop. Have you never been there?" Carrie shook her head shyly. "Well, it's one more reason for you to go and meet it, right?"

Carrie was not able to answer anything. She kept her eyes downcast and her hands rubbing each other nervously. She couldn't get out of her mind that she had locked up her mother; she had to get home on time and free her. Besides, Tommy would surely prefer to go alone to that place he was talking about so that he could talk more calmly with his friends without having to carry her around.

The atmosphere in the gym changed abruptly. The shaky and somewhat shrill music stopped and switched to a much softer one.

"Listen, it's a slow song," Tommy pointed out knowingly.

"No, I can't..." Carrie muttered nervously, shaking her head.

"Yes, you can. Let's go."

Tommy took her hand and stood up. Carrie hesitated but couldn't stop her body from reacting and rising up with him.

"No, Tommy. I have never danced."

"If you've made it this far, you should at least dance a piece, don't you think?"

His voice was so sweet and so convincing. It was as if he managed to penetrate the depths of her mind and make her act out of mere reaction, without really giving it much thought. When she least thought about it, they were already entering the dance floor, making their way among all the other couples that now rocked embraced to the rhythm of that sweet melody.

"It's easy, I'll guide you," said Tommy, then taking her by both hands and moving them into position. "Put this hand here, and this one on my shoulder. I'll put my hand on your hip, don't panic."

With great ease, he managed to get both of them into the dance position. Their bodies were so close that Carrie felt too embarrassed. Tommy's hand on her hip made her throat tighten. If that wasn't a sin... it was pretty close to it.

Tommy began to rock slightly like the others did, and Carrie hopelessly followed. Little by little, she began to feel a bit more relaxed... a little more normal.

"See? It's easy," Tommy pointed out confidently. "It's fun, right?"

Carrie didn't answer, but she couldn't deny that it indeed was, even a little. Without consciously intending to, she leaned her head forward, leaning her face against the boy's chest. The firmness of his chest, as well as the heat that it emanated, ended up letting go of the concerns that invaded him so much.

Or, maybe not all...

"Why am I here?" The young woman suddenly whispered slowly, still holding her face against his chest.

"Why?" Tommy replied with a laugh. "It's your graduation, and I invited you, remember?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Are you still questioning that? You're already here, and I'm really enjoying it."

"Seriously?" Carrie muttered, surprised.

"Of course. And I hope you are doing it too."

Carrie wanted to tell him many things. She wanted to tell him how much she was really enjoying it, how grateful she felt to him for having given her that beautiful night, and all the wonderful sensations that ran through her entire body until that moment unknown to her. She wanted to tell him all that and much more. But nothing came from her lips. She felt so engrossed in her thoughts, but they didn't quite fit together to become words. So she just kept quiet and just enjoyed the moment.

"So, what do you say?" Tommy's sweet voice whispered suddenly, bringing her back to reality a bit. "Will you accompany me to Kelly? We're leaving after some foolish couple is crowned King and Queen, and I'll take you home at 10:30. Agree?"

Suddenly, this self-imposed arrival time seemed absurd.

"Yes... Or at 11, maybe..."

They danced one more piece and then returned to the table, just in time for the King and Queen Vote. Carrie remembered that Tommy had mentioned something about that while they were dancing. Still, she really didn't quite understand what it was about. On each table, in front of each chair, they had placed an envelope and a pencil, both memorabilia of the dance with the name of the event and its date. Inside the envelope came a ballot with options of pairs to mark. Seeing it, Carrie was stunned. One of those options clearly stated:

Thomas Ross and Carrie White

It did not even say Sue Snell's name but directly named her.

"Are we in the options?" She questioned, puzzled, turning to Tommy in search of some explanation. However, he looked just intrigued as she was.

"Yes, I saw," he murmured as he looked at the ballot. "It bothers you?"

"I don't know... And you?"

"It's not a big deal," Tommy replied with a shrug, rather nonchalantly. He then turned in the direction of the main stage, where two men were setting up what appeared to be two glowing thrones. "If we win, we just go up on stage, get on those thrones, take a picture, everyone applauds us, and then we dance a little bit to make a fool of ourselves in front of everyone."

Carrie looked up at the thrones, and in her mind, she visualized as best she could everything Tommy was describing to her. King and Queen of the prom... it would be a magnificent way to crown that perfect night.

"It would be nice," she suddenly escaped without her proposing it at all. She stirred her thoughts a bit, trying to focus on what they were doing right now. "So... Who are we going to vote for? I really don't think I know any of these people very well."

"Then let's vote for ourselves," Tommy pointed out. "You know us, and we are great, don't you think?"

"No, no," Carrie repeated several times, almost scared by the idea. "I mean... I know I said it would be nice, but no... I couldn't deal with that."

"Come on, calm down. Still, it's unlikely we'll actually win..." Tommy fell silent as if suddenly regretting his words. "I mean, not because you don't have queen material, you're obviously the cutest girl around here, but..."

"No, it's ok, you're right," Carrie pointed out with a small smile. She looked at the ballot again, took her pencil, and without much thought marked their names with a big X. "What harm can it do?"

"That's right, to hell with false modesty."

Carrie's eyes widened in terror as she heard him say such a thing.

"To hell?" She murmured slowly in horror, but little by little, she began to relax. Again, that would be her mother's reaction, and she couldn't get carried away with it. "Yes... to hell."

They came shortly after to collect the ballots to put them in the ballot box. During the minutes that followed as the votes were collected and counted, Carrie amused herself, trying to chat with Tommy, George, and Frieda. A couple of guys passed by with cameras recording goodbye messages, although she didn't really know what to say. Until a few days ago, the idea of leaving that school for good was quite indifferent to her. On the one hand, she would walk away from all those who had done so much harm to her for so many years. But, on the other hand, she would be practically all day at the mercy of her mother to do and undo only what she said.

But things had changed. She no longer had to resign herself to living under her mother's roof or under her care and submission. She had other options, better options like Dr. Honey's proposal to go with her to Boston as soon as she graduated. In September, she would be of legal age, and she could do whatever she wanted then. She would only have to endure a few more months, which actually might not be so bad now that her mother had learned that it was not in her best interest to mess with her by force. And after that, she would leave that place, towards a new and better life waiting for her.

So there was no nostalgia or sadness, other than for Tommy, if anything. But, for the most part, there was only joy and excitement for what would come from there. Because now, everything would be different...

The dance program said that the coronation would be at 10:00. After about ten minutes of that hour, Vic Mooney, president of the graduates, appeared on stage with quite a bit of enthusiasm on his face, holding the microphone firmly in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. The music fell silent at his signal, and everyone's attention focused on him, knowing that it was time. For most of the students present, the whole King and Queen business was insignificant, but it was the most important thing of the night for others.

"We got the results," Vic communicated, his voice echoing through the speakers, "and they were really, really closed." He held up the piece of paper on which he had written the names of the winners. This was more spectacle than anything else because he obviously already knew. "Drumming sound, please!" The DJ took care of placing the drum roll sound through the speakers. "By one vote, the winners are... Tommy Ross and Carrie White!"

There was an avalanche of screams and applause at that moment, echoing loudly throughout the gym. However, for Carrie, everything became silent... It felt as if her brain had shut down or was using all its capacity to process what she had just heard, and everything else had been pushed aside.

Had he said her name? Did he say that she won as Prom Queen? But... no... That didn't make sense...

Her mind was torn between accepting the joy of the moment and outright denying it.

What should she do? Should stand there in front of everyone? Was she really supposed to? Could she really...?

"Come on, come on," she heard Tommy say, and then he took her hand. Just as he had led her to the dance floor before, the young woman reacted by herself and stood up. Her feet practically moved of their own accord to follow her companion.

Little by little, her mind cleared up again, and she became aware of everything around them. She was able to appreciate the light from the floodlights shining on them as they advanced to the school hymn's rhythm. Carrie looked at her own glowing image, projected onto the large screens at the sides of the stage. She noticed people stepping aside to make way for them, still clapping harmoniously, bright smiles lighting up their faces. They were all looking at her, but their eyes did not cause her discomfort, nor did they cause fear. Because they did not look at her with mockery or revulsion, but with great admiration and respect... as if she was a true queen.

Her steps were so light that she almost felt that was floating in her walk. It all seemed so unreal, an image that not even in her wildest dreams could have imagined. The butterflies that roamed her entire body must be a product of sinful and undue sensations, surely; sensations that God would definitely not welcome in one of His loyal servants. But, even then, she didn't care. If God didn't like to see her like this, then He should turn His sigh to another way.

Never, in so many years of praying and pleading, had she felt so much joy as in those moments. That night was not for God, nor for her mother: that night was hers and no one else's.

"I present to you the newly crowned King and Queen of the ball! Tommy Ross and Carrie White," Vic Mooney enunciated with intensity, just as they both began to climb the front steps to the stage. And then the shower of applause became even more intense.

Once up, they both turned to the crowd, and Carrie faced them. Again their applause and their looks of happiness and pride were only for her. A young lady approached and handed her a beautiful bouquet of pink roses, which Carrie gladly accepted. One more placed on her head a diadem crown with sparkles that resembled diamonds; entirely false, but at the moment, they were worth gold to her.

Carrie stood next to Tommy, very close to him, seeking to feel his closeness and support. He accepted her and actually reached his hand close to hers and took it gently. At that point, the girl was unable to think clearly about anything. Everything was so much more beautiful and perfect than she could have expected. She couldn't think of anything that could have made it better. That shower of applause was the ideal way to say goodbye to the old her, the fearful and submissive, who was invisible to everyone. Now, she was welcomed with open arms to that new world full of possibilities.

Now, really, everything would be different.

And then, everything was painted red...

The first thing Carrie felt was a blow to the head that shook her, accompanied by a cold sensation that chilled her body. Her head was pushed forward, and her plastic crown flew off. The cold sensation worked its way through her head to her shoulders, down her back, and through her entire torso, and then down her legs and feet. Although it was very confusing initially, after a few seconds, she understood that it had been a sensation similar to as if cold water had been poured over her. But that was not water.

By mere reflex, she closed her eyes. And while she was not seeing, she could perceive that Tommy leaped to the side in shock, and the applause and the screams slowly faded into absolute silence. Carrie slowly opened her eyes again and saw everything as if it had been painted red. People were still staring at her, but the pride and excitement were gone; now, there was only confusion, much confusion on their faces.

The young woman slowly turned her face towards Tommy; he also looked at her the same way or even more. But beyond his gaze, what astonished her was seeing his white jacket, soaked in red on one side; his face also had several spots of the same shade on it. That was not paint and didn't smell like paint. It was a metallic smell and at the same time disgusting... and it was totally impregnated in her.

She looked at herself then, and what she saw was so disturbing, so repulsive, and so strange that she simply couldn't immediately understand that it was real. Her dress, all her beautiful salmon pink dress, was dyed red from top to bottom. Her arms, her hands, everything was stained with the same substance. Some of her hair strands fell over her face and were also damp and stuck against her skin. And on the ground just below her, a wide misshapen pool had formed, bright red, reflecting the light from the searchlights.

He looked up then. Above her head, tied to a rope, was a bucket, from which even at that time, small traces of that substance were still dripping; even one of those drops fell directly into her right eye.

Carrie felt intense terror but was unable to scream. She dropped the bunch of flowers out of sheer instinct, falling it into the puddle at her feet: a pool of blood...

"And Eve was weak and loosed the raven on the world. And the raven was called 'Sin.' And the first sin was intercourse. And the Lord visited Eve with the curse, and the curse was the curse of blood..."

"Tommy..." was the only thing that managed to escape her throat, like a painful moan. She looked at him again, searching for some kind of explanation for him, to tell her it was a mistake, or a dream, or her imagination, something that would prevent her from thinking about the idea that was violently invading her mind at that time.

"Carrie, I don't..." Tommy muttered, so difficult for him to put together the words and complete a sentence. Was he trying to tell her that he had nothing to do with that? The Carrie from a few seconds ago would have believed him whatever he said. But the one at that moment... she couldn't even think...

Tommy then turned to the crowd, snapping furiously.

"What did you do?! Who did this...?!"

Some looked at each other in confusion, seemingly doubtful how to react.

"Plug it up!" She heard a sudden blast from the audio equipment speakers, and Carrie inevitably looked up ahead. "Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!"

Those chorus screams... Oh God, Carrie recognized them right away. She turned her eyes just a little to the side, and then she saw it. Projected on one of those large screens, there was the video, the video of what had happened in the showers, the video of her writhing on the floor, naked and defenseless while everyone surrounded her yelled and threw things at her. There it was, her moment of humiliation, big for all to see it.

And then they came, long-awaited and predictable: the laughs, few at first, but quickly turning into millions of them resonating at the same time. In a single second, that entire gym was filled with laughter and mocking glances, all directed at her.

And there it was once more, from being at the top to scrubbing again in the dirtiest and most stinking mud. Or, maybe she had never really gotten out of it... perhaps it had all just been an evil illusion.

She felt the anguish, the anger, the sadness, all building up in her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

She had to get out of there; she had to leave immediately.

Then she began to walk forward with some desperation.

"Carrie, wait..." Tommy Ross muttered, but she ignored him. She didn't want to see him; she didn't want to hear him. If she ever heard him again, she feared that perhaps...

Her right foot stomped into the pool of blood, and she slid violently to the side on the wet, slippery surface. Carrie's entire body slumped forward after that slip, landing on her right thigh, and she just didn't fall on her nose because she had the reflex to stop with her hands before it was too late.

As she fell, she could hear how the laughs increased exponentially. That, accompanied by that infernal chorus of "Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!" rumbled violently in her head, scrambling her ideas, stirring up any logic or common sense. Little by little, she could no longer reason, hear, or even see: she only saw red... everything was red.

"Help this sinful woman who is next to me to see the sin in her life and her works. Show her that if she had remained pure, the curse of the blood would not have fallen on her."

"Carrie," came Miss Desjardin's voice, pushing her way through the crowd and onto the stage. She walked up the steps toward her and held out a hand, offering it to her. "Let me help..."

The teacher was not even able to finish her offer, as her entire body was abruptly thrown back as if she had been tackled head-on by a burly football player. She collided with a group of students in the front row, and both she and they fell to the ground, stunned.

The laughter gradually stopped after this, but the video was still playing in the background. Everyone's stunned and confused eyes fell once more on Carrie White, who began to rise slowly. Her breathing was so agitated that her lungs seemed to explode. Her eyes were wild and lost, and her pupils had been enlarged as much as possible. The veins in her temples pounded and throbbed. Her fingers flexed and contracted against each other so violently that the bones seemed about to break. And the blood... the blood from the pool, the blood that was still liquid and had not completely adhered to the skin on her arms and face, began to slowly rise around, like tiny dewdrops.

Everyone took a step back, even Tommy.

"Carrie..." the boy said in a shaky voice, but she wasn't even aware that he was still next to her.

This was how she wanted them all to see her: scared and confused, ignorant of what was presented to them. She had tried, she really had. She wanted to be one of them, to be good, to be normal... But it was a privilege that all those impious pigs were not willing to give her. They were all a bunch of sinners, morons, and bastards with no trace of compassion on their frail and pathetic bodies. Everyone in that place had made her life a nightmare with their mockery, jokes, mistreatment, and indifference. And if God did not come down from Heaven to impose His justice, she would unleash the Hell itself on them, and on that entire decaying city!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" Carrie screamed loudly and with all her might, resounding with a tremendous explosion. And in the blink of an eye, everyone, and everything around, was pushed in all directions as if a tremendous gust of wind had hit them.

Bodies flew through the air on all sides, crashing against tables, walls, doors, or each other. The speakers, the screens on the walls, the arrangements, the tables and chairs themselves, everything was ripped from its place and deployed through the air like projectiles.

Even Tommy Ross, who was behind her, flew backward as hard as if a tremendous truck had crashed head-on. Perhaps because it was the closest to the source of all that energy deployment, the shock was much more intense. His body slammed headlong into the back wall of the gym, and his neck twisted like a stick. But that didn't matter because he didn't even feel it. The first blow he received from the front had been so tremendous that it had practically shattered his heart, dying almost instantly and without pain, without even knowing what had happened. And yet, in a way, he was the luckiest of the night. The only one who had, perhaps, the most peaceful and pious death possible...

END OF CHAPTER 39

Author's Notes:

Originally my intention was that Chapter 38 and this one were only one. Still, the final length turned out to be too long, so I decided to divide it into two better.

As I mentioned earlier, this chapter is also based mostly on the events of the film Carrie from 2013, also taking into account the 1976 movie and the original novel. But mainly, my intention was to give my own personal interpretation of these events, and primarily of the character of Carrie, her introspections, and thoughts while all this was happening.

As you could see, not everything that happened was narrated, but rather what could be described from Carrie's point of view, trying to capture her confusion and her changes of thought. Also, as you can see, I took some freedoms with several issues, some for simple personal taste and others more to match the tone and style that story has had until now.

The previous chapter and this one are almost like a personal tribute to Carrie White, her novel, and her two most influential film versions (and actually two of my favorite horror movies).

The next chapter will conclude Carrie's story, but now from Matilda's perspective. It will depart more from what was seen in the versions already mentioned. However, it will still be based a lot on them.

See you soon.

#carrie white #carrie #Matilda Wormwood #matilda #stephen king #shining among darkness #resplandor entre tinieblas #wingzemonx #fanfiction #fanfic

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thesalemsaga · 4 years

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𝟳 — 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝘁𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗻

— 𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙖.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 7.7k words

𝙨 : after losing their ship, it has become obvious the journey they’re due to continue will be a tough one. however, they come across merchants, people beyond the walls, and find themselves hunting a creature that apparently stole their precious trade.

“ does anyone have some water they can spare? ”.

the only stroke of luck they had that night was that they would not have to tread through a desert. it still didn’t take away from the fact that they were short on resources, some of which were still in the ship and they didn’t bother to recover them. they were short on water, short on food, and when night began to fall on them, found themselves short on shelter.

truth be told, they had been walking for hours ever since the incident. they might have lost their means of transport but they all still had feet to carry them forward, and after a full hour of getting kailen back on his feet and finding their means of direction, they finally began to travel north east like they intended.

seren was knackered. years of training had never prepared her for hiking for at least four hours, without a break, mind you. the temperatures were cool, they didn’t have to deal with heatstroke but her feet were aching and her muscles were tense, not to mention that she was too shy to request some treatment from alexander. she could carry on!

above them, the heavens had darkened, clouds had pooled, and the winds became colder. kailen was still struggling to tread on despite the spells alexander put on him. the doses, as you could call it, had to be weak in order for the male to be healing whilst awake. if alexander did a full spell, it would send kailen to sleep, and nobody, except for evangelos, was willing to carry the boy.

their surroundings had moved from a rocky bay to a solid, grassy path, encountering a few meadows and streams and based on how romeo was smacking his arm and complaining about mosquitoes, they would soon be entering the tropics that kailen foresaw.

“ alright, let’s stop here for tonight. ”

seren groaned and collapsed onto her knees before she could ever look around her. their path had become slim, a path in between large rock structures that either belonged to temples or were meant to hold some sort of symbolism to the old world. regardless, they provided cover in the case of rain, and protected them from any watchful eyes from above when they lit their fire.

evangelos had been cradling firewood in his arms for a while, so when seren caught sight of the splinters on his forearms after he put them down, she frowned. he could have shared some of that burden with her, she wasn’t exactly the strongest but it would mean he wouldn’t be hurt.

setting up camp was rather easy. they mostly sought out grassy grounds so they didn’t have to lay on rocky surfaces. they removed most of their heavier clothes like the cloaks and jackets to be their ‘sleeping bags’, and whilst evangelos and alexander worked on the fire, seren approached kailen with a level of concern. “ if you’re going to ask whether i’m okay again ”, he began with an amused tone.

the swordsman knelt in front of him and smiled delicately. “ of course i’m going to ask you whether you’re okay. you’ve been struggling to stay awake for four hours. i just hope you rest well tonight ”, she said, thoughts drawing back to the moment where she was certain she was never going to see kailen again.

it was not the first time she saw the dead in front of her, yet the most horrifying detail about the issue was that she saw the color draining from his skin, the blueness on his lips and how lifeless he was. it was a horrid image she was most likely never going to get out of her head.

“ i’ll sleep like a rock, definitely. with a fire and maybe with a belly full of . . . cereal bars, bread and water ”, he laughed and sighed, resting back against his cloth bed and paid the girl another smile. “ i never got to thank you for saving my life. how rude of me. ”

seren shook her head furiously, “ i was only doing my duty as your teammate. i was just faster than the others. and i wasn’t going to let you die. ”

it’s not something someone can easily comprehend, staring down at a friend whose life is slowly draining away, dying breaths escaping from their lips in seconds and feeling powerless to stop death from yanking their soul from their body. it hit her hard because she had looked upon the body of someone she couldn’t save, and when the opportunity came, she didn’t hesitate the save the life of someone whose time wasn’t supposed to come so soon.

kailen had a lot to look forward to beyond the mission, seren was no soothsayer yet she could easily tell you that his time hadn’t come. saving his life didn’t give her a self-esteem boost even if it should, it just made her regret leaving him in the grasp of danger to begin with.

seren glanced back when a faint crackling came from behind her. the campfire they had made was small, but the heat was enough for her to shiver and for the tiredness to come creeping up her skin. the girl ultimately stood back up and turned to her backpack, where she took out her dinner for the night.

bread and water.

but at least it was milk bread!

settling down to eat, she observed the group of boys and how they went about settling in for the night. kailen had fallen fast asleep as soon as he finished eating, alexander putting a jacket over him before turning to his book. romeo was having a tender discussion with evangelos about guns. immediately, seren began to look around for the missing perseus.

she tried not to jump when she heard a minor grunt beside her, with perseus taking a seat beside her and flashing her a small smile. “ you look seriously tired, how are you still awake? ”, he questioned.

was it obvious? the warmth from the campfire was causing every muscle in her body to pause and rest after hours of exercising them profusely. she had begun to unwind and hadn’t even noticed it until her blinks became longer and her head started to nod off.

yet a part of her remained restless. she couldn’t exactly sleep when there were many things ahead of them, and seren was definitely the type of person to have a mental breakdown at midnight for no particular reason.

it was salem keeping her up. it was kailen’s injury keeping her up. it was the fear that they would encounter something bad tomorrow keeping her up. yet her body fought violently for rest, and as the others began to lay down, she and perseus were the only ones still sitting up.

seren’s head fell on his shoulder in an instant, drawing a long sigh from her lips. “ a lot of things. mainly the issue with kailen, but also the plans of the adventure as a whole. we got the fuel but what use is it if we don’t have a ship to go with it? ”, the matter remained rhetorical. being beside perseus was making her feel warmer, and as a result, sleepier.

and by the looks of things, with the way his body grew limp and how his breathing had drawn to a steady and drawn out sound, he wasn’t doing any better than her at remaining awake. why did she feel the need to lean against him suddenly? she certainly did not regret the decision. his voice also soothed some of the doubts and worries she continued to have in the dead of night.

“ if all that’s happened up until now has happened, well, i firmly believe it was supposed to. maybe this is a good wake up call for us. ditching the ship was on the plan anyway. we just didn’t know when “, the artist insisted on seeing things with a positive light. seren envied him. not even a self-proclaimed optimist like herself could do it. all she knew, based on this small conversation, was that perseus ursa did wonders to the soul.

nonetheless, seren withdrew her head from his shoulder in fear of burdening him. but turned it ever so slightly to face him, to admire his features under moonlight, to study his condition and figure out a way to send him to sleep. he was half way through and needed a small push. “ can i ask you a question? “, he spoke suddenly, meeting her gaze.

“ sure “. seren stretched her legs out against the ground and hunched forward slightly.

“ your hair . . . is it naturally like that? “.

natural pink hair? his naivety brought a giggle to build in her throat. she would like it to be true, her pink hair had been her favorite color since she was first ever allowed to mingle with hair dye. after going blonde and brunette, she settled with this waterfall of cotton candy. it drew too much attention, something she sought out purposefully. it’s difficult to be a person who wishes to be admired, only to receive little to none of it. maybe her hair could get her some recognition since her attempts of befriending people doesn’t do the trick.

in response to his question, seren chuckled and shook her head. “ i’d like it to be. but no, i’m afraid it’s not. i dye my hair for the sake of sparing my father from looking at me and being reminded of my mother “, she didn’t wish to open up to anyone about her family. but perseus was not one to judge, as it appeared to her. he could carry a secret. “ i’m an exact replica of her. “

“ do you have a picture? “.

indeed she did. her father knew little to nothing about the things she kept surrounding her mother, he was only aware of the sword she carried. but edged into her tiny purse which she carried everywhere, was a minute photograph. marks of folds cursed the corners despite her best attempts at keeping it flat, but the quality of the picture remained relatively the same. you could thank the woman in it for that.

because even as she pulled the photo out and placed it into perseus’s capable hands, seren was smitten by the woman smiling on it.

orange locks curled and drooping over bare, fair shoulders stained with some freckles. cheeks round and pink, also met with the familiar markings that seren was lucky to inherit, although not in the same amount. the eyes are the windows to the soul, and her mother’s was green; adventurous, wild, free. her expression was settled between a pout and a smile, a cheeky one at that. how old was she in this picture, seventeen? it’s easy to say that she was gorgeous inside and out from the moment she was born, and that beauty thrived when she became a woman.

did she charm perseus just like she did with nearly anyone lucky enough to catch sight of her? through the way he viewed the photo, his lips apart, perhaps she had worked her magic. and that brought a grin from her daughter.

“ i thought you almost gave me a picture of yourself “, he said after a couple moments of silence. seren lingered beside him, admiring the art piece within his fingers along with him. he turned his head and paid her a long glance. “ you’ve got orange hair, then. “

the dreamy tone which dripped from those words were enough to make the girl blush, for the first time in a while.

there was still a lot she wanted to say. the presence of a moral soul beside her brought an overwhelming surge of feelings of sensitivity. she wanted to speak up about how her father crumbled when her mother had enough. she wanted to muse about the gaping hole in her chest at the loss of a sibling. she wished to pour her heart out to sweet perseus in hopes he could present her some guidance. but that would be a burden, would it not? she couldn’t begin to comprehend what he felt, being away from home, from family, thrown into a strange environment that he couldn’t have ever dreamt of.

she would simply have to carry those burdens for a little longer, until she could dump it when she reached her limit.

“ well, considering we’re far from home, i suppose i’ll be seeing that natural hair “, perseus said just as he sunk his fingers into her locks and then flicked them, watching as they settled down her back like a downpour of pink. could he do that again? that felt lovely. “ you know, despite what you say, i reckon your old man would be happy to see you as you naturally are . . . do you cover your freckles with make up? “.

seren’s head fell. guilty.

there was a time, early into the days where her mother decided to leave, where seren began to despise the girl in the mirror. she despised the orange hair, the freckles that coated the back of her hands and her cheek bones. she was a replica of the woman she hated, until of course she began to understand why her mother took her leave to begin with. yet it became a habit, to cover those markings in worry of upsetting the one hurt by it all the most; her dear father.

it was an incredible need to rid herself from any burdens, because if she didn’t do it now, perhaps she would become one as the journey progressed. seren was useless when her head was heavy.

“ i won’t cover them anymore. “

“ good. “

perseus grunted whilst lifting himself up, grasping his rags and bag. he was probably heading off to bed, and seren ought to do the same. yet she couldn’t put her kind to rest just yet, she wanted to ensure everyone was sleeping before she could do the same. it was just a habit, wanting to see them asleep or composed before she could lay down herself.

after seeing perseus settle down a few steps away from evan, the swordsman stood up with her own frail legs and tread around. kailen was knocked out at this point, sleeping deeply that not even her footsteps could wake him. alexander seemed to be out cold, his book placed over his face. romeo and evan, too, settling in for the night and cutting their conversation short. and perseus dozed off slowly only moments after settling down. from her observation, all these exhausted ‘pups’ had nestled in. this meant she could sleep with some liberty.

what seren first noticed about her surroundings, was the sky above her. star dusted, clusters of lights engulfing a sea o black behind them like a painted canvas. she would only see these sights from her balcony back home, and now she could see them for what they were in this cloudless night. and she couldn’t miss the crescent moon smiling down upon them, glowing faintly like her sisters that flicked to her as if to bask in her beauty; truly the prettiest moon of all.

what would tomorrow bring them? would they be sleeping under the stars again? would there be a roof above her tomorrow? how many nights would she sleep for until she got to salem?

questions that would be answered within the passing of time, nature’s enemy and ally. time that would bring the morning to them soon; and with that thought in mind, seren could almost put her mind to rest, craning her head to the side and settling under her cape serving as her only blanket. they were safe here, she hoped.

time skip . . .

they were up early the next morning, and seren was struggled to move an inch of a muscle.

truth be told, she felt like she had been smashed between two boulders repeatedly, her legs were equivalent to jelly and she couldn’t even think to take her sword out in case of an impending attack. everything hurt, but what aches her more was the thought that there was more to tread ahead, thousands of steps to be taken before she could think of growing proximate to salem.

kailen said they needed to keep heading north east if they wished to reach the rainforests of the peninsula. the idea of a dense landscape of damp trees and running streams put her mind at rest, but not completely; what gnawed was a slight trepidation directed to the wild.

animals. wild ones, ones you wouldn’t think would exist until you set your feet into the real world and saw it for yourself. it was a worry that she shared with the first person who she thought looked awake. and that was romeo. he was also the gunner who knew of animals.

“ so, you’re asking me what kind of animals we’d find in a rainforest? “.

seren pouted, now she felt like an idiot.

romeo hummed and adjusted the straps of his gun hanging from his back. “ that’s a tough question, seren. but what i can tell you is that there are a lot. usually tame ones like monkeys. there are quite a lot of predators, though; crocodiles, big cats, snakes. “

“ and what’s the chance of us running into one of these predators? “, she was sure it was pretty much a hundred percent.

“ i’m bad at math but i can tell you; a lot. “

yup, she guessed right.

yet it didn’t bother her as much as it should. animals with a note of fear in their body would know better than to advance on a big group of intelligent mammals who are also armed. but she remained suspicious of the animals that weren’t on national geographic documentaries, the ones belonging to ancient tomes collecting dust down in the private portion of the valhalla library.

mythical beasts. romeo had failed to mention the chance of a run-in with them. and maybe it was for the better.

throughout their pacing, they traversed miles and miles on foot through dips between cliffs, following a path of savannah and a dry wind that just grew warmer as time went on. her throat was starting to ache, but she was far too timid to ask evan for water when kailen needed it the most. he still looked as pale as yesterday, hence why they made more stops than before. seren held gratitude for alexander in that prospect, he was the one timing and leading the way, and was more merciful than evan who wanted to carry on until they ran into something.

what she can tell you, though, was that small dips of water were scattered around as they progressed, with palm trees growing taller and bushes growing denser and the sound of water running growing louder. it even allowed for a chill gust of wind to blow against her face, and by god, was it the most refreshing feeling. never would seren believe that there would be an oasis in these parts, up until now.

as the sixth hour of their walk rolled in, perseus took note of something that brought their steps to a slight halt.

“ look up. “

half expecting there to be a military ship floating above them, seren went to grasp her weapon. but lowered her hand in an instant once the tone of perseus’s command dawned on her. the sky, which had previously been blue and raging with the sun’s blaring heat, now grew grey, clouds swarming to hide the yellow face teasing the melting youths below.

cloudy and dense skies; that can only mean one thing. they were getting closer.

the group grew closer to what seemed to be the final oasis in their path, this only half an hour after they stopped in the last one, which the swordsman could see in the distance by throwing her gaze back. had they really gotten this far? it felt like they were still back at the start, just seconds from seeing their ship being dragged into the ocean. and if not due to their quick thinking, their team mate would’ve gone down as well.

“ uhm, guys . . . what’s that? “.

ripping her gaze away from the plains behind her, she saw romeo pointing out towards the path they’d been following. there, right at the end, she spotted what appeared to be a cart that had been toppled over, vibrant in color and most importantly, swarming with what seemed to be people.

yes. people.

suddenly, salem became the last of her concerns.

what perseus had said just yesterday was a possibility she rendered as unlikely. she didn’t want to gamble but seren’s bet of seeing humans beyond the walls was set on being an absolute zero. nothing. she was set on seeing animals and wild beasts that had crawled out of the pits of hell when magic awakened, and seeing people . . . it rendered her immobile for a stretch of many seconds until she heard evan unsheathe his weapon. “ evan— “.

“ isn’t it weird that the first people we run in just so happen to be lost merchants gathering around a toppled car? “.

he was suspicious, that was a given but seren couldn’t bring herself to feel the same. in fact, her mind was entirely settled in reaching out and checking if these travelers needed help of some sort.

and thankfully, in the most fucked up sense, help was definitely going to be needed when a woman let out an ear piercing scream, following by the scattering of the group running off in all directions.

what was she going to do, sit there and watch the danger unfold just like she did at the academy? seren was the first to take off running, followed swiftly by evan.

when she group took off running in various directions, seren took notice of the sort of people they were. men and women and children of all ages, and when her eyes came across that of a child no younger than eight who was crying out for help, she had to use her semblance, despite being a shift away from collapsing.

a snarl erupted behind her just when her arms caught the child, followed by the click and push of evan’s gauntlets and a shot gun behind fired. she didn’t dare look, in case she saw something that would stop her from getting this child to safety. upon shifting again, seren found herself standing some metres away from the fallen cart, buried within tall grass with a small boy in her arms.

why wasn’t she fighting? that was what she was trained for, she could’ve grasped her sword and done something, helped her teammates, but her mind froze, going in a loop of painful memories that led to those nerves being pulled. she basically grasped the boy out of danger like a reflect action, and couldn’t help but sense embarrassment at that.

just as she was about to glance down at this tiny figure and ask him whether he was okay, a shadow began to loom over her, and seren was fortunate to roll away just seconds before a corpse to a creature landed just where she had been laying.

scales, talons, claws. a reptilian creature of some sort that carried a repugnant smell that went to the back of her brain.

“ seren! are you alright?! “.

kailen’s cry reached her seconds later, he peeked at her from behind the cart and rushed over, observing the creature and pulling out an arrow that had been etched in its neck, seren shuddered at the sound of shifting glands and skin. “ y-yeah, fine “, she replied and sat up.

the boy she had managed to rescue was trembling in her arms. he had just barely managed to tuck his face within the crane of her neck where he cried and cried, and although it seemed to gain a shudder from kailen, seren didn’t mind. she had to deal with this at some point, with another child drooling and sobbing and fussing. she felt almost thankful that there was no repetition of those actions in that moment.

it ran through her mind that perhaps this boy didn’t speak the same language as them, that maybe the people beyond the walls had adapted something of their own, so communicating through words was not an option for the time being. she only shushed him softly and patted his back, glancing at kailen and furrowing her brows. “ where are the other merchants? “, she quizzed.

“ we’re rounding them up. i think the mom is looking for the kid ”. and with that being sad, seren decided to let him go. it took a couple of seconds, for the boy was clinging hard to her and struggling to contain his tears.

it was just for a moment, but seren was able to look into the kid’s eyes. and saw familiar fear. shock. rightfully so. but he seemed to be totally unaware that he could’ve been squashed in between the cart and the ground, and he only continued to cry out for his mom when her voice called out for him in the wind. at that, seren picked her up, and dusted her grimy uniform.

after paying a small glance to kailen, she went to where alexander appeared to be healing a man’s knee that was deeply cut after the run-in with the creature, that still went unnamed and unnoticed. was it only her that was incredibly worried by it, perturbed that something this vicious would be out in the plains when the rainforest was a couple miles away? clearly not, since romeo rushed over to investigate what it was.

“ there’s more of them. ”

it was relief that washed over seren when a man’s voice reached her ears, in a language she could definitely understand.

upon looking, she saw him sat on the ground, dirt and grime coating his face as a young woman pressed a damp towel to his cheek and nose. seren tried not to take notice of the blood, only of what he had said. “ more? w-where did you see them, if you don’t mind me asking? ”, her tone slowed in something caring.

“ down by the forest ”, the woman beside him replied, accent heavy. she clenched her jaw and nodded in the direction of the path they would’ve continued to follow had this accident not interrupted them. “ we were coming out of there and heard some noises. we didn’t think anything of it at first, until something jumped on top of our wagon. we managed to kill one, and the rest ran off. ”

“ with our stuff, no less. ”

seren heard steps shift behind her and turned, seeing perseus giving her a sympathetic smile and then returning his attention to the bleeding man and the woman who continued to nurse him. “ you’re merchants, i figured. but these creatures seemed to hold bad intentions. and they’re intelligent. what did they take? ”.

the injured man grunted, “ just about everything of value. we were going to sell some of it down in the market in the south. a week’s journey. but they took all our silk and gold, and our food. we have kids traveling with us, we can’t let them starve. and the animals . . . we don’t know if they’re safe to hunt. ”

if she could cast her memory far enough, seren could recall a lesson she had with doctor oz. he was a brilliant man who knew of animals in a way that not many did. he was infatuated with studying them, and he once proposed an idea that gathered some laughs. until now.

the idea was simple; that through the course of salem’s reign, animals were being affected the most. normal animals, animals you’d find to be a native of anime landscape. they were consumed by this sort of nervous tick and anger targeted towards humans, something he had observed when he was allowed out to tuscany. when he’d managed to kill a bird, he examined it. and it was rotten from the inside.

of course, you wouldn’t really be able to tell with sight and touch alone. and that was why he figured that even animals which had survived ragnarok, were becoming a threat to humans.

a kid could some part of an animal body for dinner and then never wake up the next morning due to failing organs. the thought alone made seren sick, which led to her eventual conclusion.

they were going to get those items back.

“ absolutely not. ”

“ don’t be an ass, evan. ”

of course, when she brought the idea forth to her team-mates, the reactions were mixed. but her concern was on the merchants. the fact that they’d come across humans beyond the walls no longer really stunned her, the feeling of excitement and curiosity faded the moment she realized she could be responsible for their deaths if she didn’t try to help them in some way.

maybe she was just being far too naive, too much of a pacifist for her own good. but ever since the fall of valhalla, there was a thought gnawing at the back of her mind telling her something rather simple.

even if you didn’t cause the harm, you will bring more at the refusal of helping.

“ we don’t know them ”, evan put it simply. “ our time is short, our resources are short. if we agree to this, we could be delaying our journal for a good couple of days and we’re already running low on resources. we could be putting the very nature of our journey in jeopardy at the sake of helping these people. ”

seren disliked seeing the wavering expressions, the hisses between teeth and the tuts. why wasn’t anyone immediately jumping in to counter evan? why? why?! had they not learned anything about valhalla?!

at that point, seren didn’t care for the majority. this time, she turned on her heel and began to make haste down the path they’d been treading towards to begin with and it didn’t take long before romeo was calling after quickly, rushing to catch up. “ woah, woah! seren, you can’t just go alone! ”.

“ if you arrogant idiots aren’t gonna move your asses, then i’ll move mine! ”.

maybe she wasn’t thinking right. maybe this was a bad idea, heading in alone. what if she was swarmed by a number of those monsters? but she couldn’t just continue on with her adventure when that boy’s face was imprinted in the back of her mind as a reminder that they weren’t just here to complete one goal and leave. this was a journey that would test their training, and perhaps valhalla hadn’t taught her about sympathy and being the hero for the people but small conversations with her father had.

he would be disappointed if she turned a blind eye, and that’s why she progressed.

so despite feeling ill after smacking romeo’s hand away, seren turned to look back just once to see if anyone would join her, anyone with just a little bit of courage left. and no one moved an inch. that broke her heart in half.

but it didn’t stop her from going by herself.

after the first few steps alone, seren began to feel a little certain that her lone adventure would end well. they could wait behind her and she could bring the stolen goods back to the merchants and they would be on their way. most importantly, the travelers would be content and healthy enough to get to safety and that was all she wanted.

her only concern was that night would fall and she was useless in the dark. her semblance may be speed but she could very much run face-first into a tree trunk if encountered with an enemy. not to worry, though! with her semblance, she would make it back in no time.

time skip . . .

the only rainforest she’s seen before is the one in the valhalla atlas, and it was nothing like the one she was currently going through.

through the gaps between the dense trees dancing above her, seren could count the remaining hours of daylight, and it only added to her worries. it was hot, humid enough for her to have to remove her coat and shove it into her bag if she had any hope of surviving through this intense environment.

every bush she brushed against, she would shudder at. it was the impending fear that she could fall into thorns and blind herself or just badly hurt her already aching body. she regretted not staying behind to see if someone would join her, but it just gave her a form of entertainment; grumbling about boys.

“ i have to everything myself ”, the pink-haired girl mumbled, smacking her rapier against another couple of bushes with a sense of irritation that was digging into every nerve in her breathing body. she still couldn’t believe the audacity of those boys standing there, claiming themselves to be self-righteous heroes, liberators of the empire, when they couldn’t even help a group of troubled, stranded merchants.

yes, she did want to agree with evan’s claim. they were limited on time, having to reach their enemy before she can launch a predicted attack on the island of crete and eradicating every possibility of humanity re-constructing itself. but that doesn’t mean a good deed along the way is going to be a heavy burden on them. so as much as she understood, she couldn’t agree with the notion.

which brought her further confusion on how all of them had agreed to stay behind.

well, her only option was to put it behind her. her skirt was covered in mud and soot and she was tempted on removing it and walking around only in her cycling shorts that she always wore beneath. it wasn’t going to do any harm.

whilst she was pacing through this endless jungle, that was soon losing its sense of tropicalness and began to soon resemble a normal forests. the sound of birds singing soon reached her ears, the rushing of streams grew quieter and her steps were replaced by the crunching of leaves and pebbles being kicked as opposed to mud. she wondered, if she looked in the mirror right now, would she be able to recognize herself?

nonetheless, the grounds were becoming far more plain, and she didn’t nearly twist her ankle every time she walked on. seren was beginning to grow thankful for this lonesome adventure, her ears could use a break from hearing those boys bickering. albeit annoying, she did feel prone to danger without that light-hearted heckling.

it felt . . . dangerous.

and without kailen’s watchful eyes on her back and romeo flinching at any odd sounds his sensitive ears could pick up, seren felt more open for an attack than ever. and it could come at any moment, but until now, she had to worry about the stolen goods tan she did about whatever creature from before attacking her now.

and as luck would have it, she would not have to wait for long. at least five minutes after entering a new section of the forest, where she could see the blue sky above her, seren spotted something on the ground that twinkled under the sun’s grace. a golden coin, a currency that she immediately referred back to the merchants.

she crouched and picked it with delicacy, brushing the bits of dirt covering it and squinting to see whether she could recognize the symbol. she couldn’t.

knowing nothing of the civilizations beyond the walls, she most definitely didn’t expect them to develop their own currency when so much was at stake. and it goes to say that the human race will always find a way to survive. and she allowed them to put her mind at ease, if only for a second.

seconds after placing the coin into her pouch, seren heard a clatter. followed by a grunt. and footsteps. and another grunt. all coming from a couple of trees ahead of her, so the swordsman immediately crouched and rolled behind a wide tree to hide her body.

upon peeking, it was quite hard not to gasp audibly at what she had managed to see.

the goods. she could see every fruit, bread, and drink tucked in large sacks that were behind heavily guarded. and how does she know that? well, for the two giant animals circling it and staring off into vacant spaces of the forest, shifting their sharp gazes in short seconds and snarling at anything that moved.

it was the same monsters that had attacked the wagon back in the dirt road and seren was only a couple of feet away from them. she didn’t get to see how the first one attacked, how it moved, whether it was fast or slow or had some sort of wicked power building up in its lungs. she’s never felt this scared of an encounter before.

now, her chances of taking them both out quickly was low. she wasn’t a sneaky attacker, she came in head-strong like most swordsmen with her style. this is why she needed someone relying on stealth on the team . . . this is why she really needed the team!

her heart began to palpitate when one of the monsters suddenly shifted its gaze to the tree she stood behind and she only managed to hide a millisecond later but perhaps that was too late. with her breathing starting to grow erratic, and steps growing close, seren didn’t know what to do. for the first time in forever, the mind she relied so much on did not cooperate with her when she was seconds away from being eaten by a lion-and-goat-headed, snake-tailed, winged beast.

but she could hide.

through the shift up the tree, seren looked down through thick branches at the monster now looking around the tree. it could smell something off, she knew, and if she so much as breathed too loudly, it would hear her. and it could pounce, fly, and reduce her to shreds.

her eyes were hot with tears, one snap of a tree branch and she would be falling into the beast’s mouth. that would be her life, over. salem alive and destroying the world. her father in danger. her friends lost in the middle of nowhere with no means of re-tracing their steps. why couldn’t her stubborn, passive butt just stayed back there?!

a roar rang, and seren’s heart stopped.

in those lingering moments, she saw her soul leave her body only to be sucked back in by another roar, a cry of pain from the beasts below that seemed to have diverted their attention to something, or someone, moving so quickly that she could hardly keep up.

“ seren! ”.

that was perseus calling her name, and seren mistook it for an angel welcoming her into the afterlife. her weak legs barely managed to stand among those branches as she peeked and saw kailen’s arrows shoot by in a trail of flashes that left her blinded. evan’s gauntlets started glowing again, and at that point, she had to look away.

her mind was racing with what could’ve been that suddenly shift of a shadow she saw moving in between those beasts before the boys came in to help. it was still down there, weaving in between shadows, waiting, and then launching into another attack, cutting a limb and rushing back into an abyss casted by trees.

the only thing she heard next was alexander screaming romeo’s name and then a shot being fired, followed by a roar, followed by silence.

in the trees, seren trembled. shocked to the core, tears at the verge of spilling over the edge just like it did the night valhalla fell. yet again, she had chickened out. she had avoided danger for the sake of saving her own skin rather than diving into action and being the hero she always wanted to be. she just waited, for the sound of death, and prayed for god to send an angel. and that he did. but how many would he send every time seren decided to be the world’s greatest coward?

seconds of silence continued, and her body finally went limp.

with a hiss, she felt her right arm slam against a branch on her way down and she held her breath, waiting for that long awaited fall which she wished would be her wake-up call. maybe by fucking her head up, she could actually start being useful when she was back on her feet.

but no impact came, unless if you count be caught as one. personally, seren felt as if she had landed within a pool of feathers, her head recoiled forward when she dared to slip into the darkness as her eyes fell closed. but then snapped back open and found herself being held, arms encasing her body in an almost bridal fashion. it took her many moments to recognized that these arms did not belong to any of the fellow men joining her adventure.

as her arm throbbed in pain, her head followed as she turned it and looked upon an unfamiliar face. it looked far too unbothered for her to see it as the knight in shining armor, a pair of cat-like eyes staring into her own which invoked a shudder of fear.

small, pouted lips. fair skin. feline eyes with a scar running down the right. slicked black hair. she recognized this man as the one who had landed the first blow on the chimeras that had nearly brought her at death’s door.

and now she was in his arm and she’s never felt more awkward in her life.

“ i was expecting a thank you, but . . . ”.

taken aback by his voice, seren found herself being placed back safely on the ground and a fraction of a second later, was yanked back into romeo’s arms as he squeezed her into a hug. it was the first time she’s seen him look so troubled and worried before. “ are you insane?! don’t ever try something like that again! if we hadn’t come in in time, then . . . ”.

“ no, we did jack shit, romeo. we owe our thanks to this fellow. ”

upon hearing alexander speak for the first time in a while, seren turned back after being freed from romeo’s painful embrace. now that she could see their savior better, she felt herself growing exceedingly embarrassed.

whoever this man was, she owed him a lot.

he appeared to be the same age as them, if not just a bit older. wearing dark clothes and giving off the air of being unapproachable, seren was quick to classify him as the assassin type the moment her eyes landed on the sword and dagger tucked into sheaths behind his back. he was a hunter, most definitely. and it was thanks to him that the merchants were getting their goods back.

“ uhm, thank you . . . ”.

“ who are you guys? ”.

the unpleasant tone baffled the young girl, she shared a long glance with this assassin before she stepped forward and cleared her throat. she was the head of the party, should she do the introductions? “ w-we’re from behind the walls . . . uhm, we’re here to collect the goods for the stranded merchants back in the main road . . . ”.

he rolled his eyes, “ yeah, i figured that much. came a little late, don’t you think? you shouldn’t keep starving people waiting. ”

oh, the nerve it took her not to glare at evangelos.

the assassin coughed into his hand and turned to the bagged foods and poked them with the tip of his boots. “ look, i was gonna give it back to them when i first witnessed the attack. but these chimeras are hard to hunt down. i suppose i owe it to pinkie over there for distracting them for me ”. pinkie?

looking at the expressions between the boys, no one seemed pleased enough with this encounter. even if they did owe a lot to this young man . . . at least she did.

“ that aside, who are you? ”, it was the first time seren has heard perseus come across in such a blunt manner.

the dark-haired gentleman pursed his lips and stared, “ levi dain. ”

levi . . . seren repeated the name beneath her breath and nodded, growing the courage to speak to him again without feeling intimidated. “ listen, levi . . . y-you can take the credit for the goods being returned. b-but we hoped that perhaps you could point us towards . . . uhm, russia. ”

“ russia? pft, are the people from the walls finally deciding on tourism? ”.

he was becoming more insufferable to talk to than evangelos and alexander combined and that’s saying something. with the way the others grunted, levi decided not to linger on the joke; no one laughed.

he hummed, rubbing his chin. “ i’m afraid i don’t have a map nor any resources to help you lot . . . but i know someone who can. that is . . . if you’re patient enough to talk to a deranged, lonesome hermit leaving deep within the woods ”.

“ fine ”, evangelos snapped. “ lead us to the man. ”

levi smirked. “ pal, balthasar is no man. nor human. not after that wicked witch got him . . . ”.

#chapter seven #original writing #fantasy #adventure #dystopian #futuristic

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btskismet · 5 years

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Kismet (Chapter 9): A BTS Jin imagines fanfic

First ever fanfic. Contains fluff and some smut. Please read sequentially as it is a long story arc. Please provide feedback! My IG is btskismet.

600 am was too early in the day to head out but they knew they had to so they could get to Aomori by 2pm. She didn't sleep as soundly as she wanted since she had those weird dreams again. Seokjin had to even wake her because she kept crying in her sleep. She saw his worried face when he was trying to wake her up and it startled her since the last thing she remembered in her dream was his sad and distraught face looking down on her.

She didn't tell him what the dream was about but she knew she had to soon. He didn't push her to tell him about what happened during the trip to the temple but she felt he was just biding his time. "I have to share this with him sooner or later", she thought as they were walking to take the bus to Kyoto station.

There were hardly any people in the bus when they rode and this made her feel at ease. They sat at the back and Seokjin leaned on her head as they were on the road. Kyoto buses would make several stops so the bus was bound to fill up at some point since most people would be going down the bus stop closest to Kyoto station. She pulled up Seokjin's mask when they were at Nishioji Shijo station. Since the castle was near this bus station, more locals and foreigners got on the bus.

The bus ride took them 30 minutes just to get them to Kyoto station. As they were entering, she asked if he was already hungry. "Right now, 711 is open. Not sure about the other restaurants.", she said. Seokjin gave a thumbs up on 711 fare and they got themselves breakfast. He fancied chocolate milk, yogurt and onigiri so she had the same thing as well.

They were happily eating their food outside of 711 and admiring Kyoto tower in front of them. "It's strange that this tower is the tallest structure in Kyoto and the station is one of the few buildings that are tall in Kyoto. I think there are about 20 tall buildings in the whole of Kyoto. Such a change in comparison to Tokyo."

"You really like this country, don't you?", Seokjin replied.

"I appreciate their way of living and their discipline. Shows how structured, orderly and polite they can be. I don't intend to live here though - I hear women are not treated well."

"I wish I could bring you to Korea right now. You will want to stay there forever.", Seokjin said.

She gave him a spoonful of her berry yogurt and he happily accepted. "Maybe when you're done with your contract and you can finally date in public.", she replied.

"Wohh, guess who'll be on the top of my list of women I'll be dating by then... Will it be you? Hmmm...", Seokjin chided and he received a playful slap from her.

The shinkansen from Kyoto to Tokyo station will be for 3 hours. The station was filled with some people going to work but it wasn't as busy as they thought it would be. They knew that they would have more difficulty once they get to Tokyo station at 1030 am but it was a chance they had to take.

Seokjin received a message from Jimin when they were on the shinkansen, after Seokjin sent him a short video of the arrival of the train. Jimin sent a surprised Chimmy emoji to him and said "daebak" afterwards.

"He said he's jealous that I'm able to ride the train almost by myself. He's envious that I'm getting a lot of rest and solitude too.", Seokjin shared.

"Aaw I wish he could come with us.", she said. He shook his head and said coyly, "We won't have as much fun in bed if he's around..." This response was met with a blush and another slap from her which made him laugh hard. She shushed him immediately, concerned that the sleepy Japanese passengers would wake up from the noise.

~~~~~

"Ok, it's a choice between the Yonezawa Gyudon or the Black Sukiyaki, right?", she asked him as they were outside Ekibenya Matsuri. There were a lot of people inside choosing from all types of ekiben in the store so she had to take a picture of the display of all the ekibens they sell so he could choose what he wants. He was torn between the top two bentos and she was hoping he would decide soon lest they would lose the chance of getting one or the other.

Seokjin was looking at the photo intently and expanding it. "Seokjin, please decide soon. I'm afraid they might run out of it..."

"Can we get both? Let's get both!", Seokjin exclaimed. They already got the kobe beef sandwiches as well as the japchae from another food stall. She wasn't sure if they could finish all the food for the 3 hour ride from Tokyo station to Shin-Aomori station. She knew though that Seokjin is a big eater so it would be best to buy a lot.

"Of course we can get both. Ok, let me line up then."

Seokjin waved bye and started using his phone. She picked up the ekiben and also got some sake and one can of miso soup. She had to line up for more than 15 minutes as a lot of customers were there to get their food too.

Seokjin grabbed her close and kissed her forehead when she went back to him. "I'm sorry if I took long to decide and you had to line up that long and I couldn't help you. I know it's a hassle to do all of that."

"It's not a hassle. Better I do this than having our trip cut short because someone recognized you. I also don't want to miss out on getting the Sukiyaki bento. If you took longer, we might've run out!"

Seokjin gave a short laugh and apologized again. They then walked to the platform for the next train.

~~~~~

The 3 hour train ride was less crowded than the one from Kyoto to Tokyo. It came to the point wherein there were only 5 people in their car plus them. They saw fit to drink the alcohol by then, enjoying the smooth ride to Aomori.

They knew it would be colder once they get to the Shin-Aomori station since they would be up north. Seokjin shared that he was used to weather that cold, just like in SoKor so Aomori should be fine for him. He got concerned for her since she was used to more tropical weather.

"Don't worry, I will warm you up.", he said after taking a swig of the sake. "I won't be behaved though if I had to keep you warm."

She smiled at him, flushed because of the alcohol in her body and fully aware that she was blushing but since she was already very red, it didn't matter.

"You know, you come off as sweet and pure on stage but in real life, you are sly and seductive, I guess. You really have this duality."

Seokjin then stared at her piercingly which made her feel hot. He started coming close to her, reaching out to touch her face as if to kiss her. She was about to panic but then he pulled away laughing naughtily at her reaction.

"It's really fun to tease you. You are quite gullible sometimes."

She felt embarrassed by his statement and she looked away. Seokjin turned her face to his and said, "Don't be angry please. I just like it that I get to ruffle your feathers sometimes. You look so cute."

"Alright. Just don't do it too much. I easily panic when it involves that. I still can't grasp the fact I'm with you, you know. It feels weird sometimes.", she said.

Alright then, he mouthed and finished the last of his sake.

~~~~~

Shin-Aomori station was small compared to the ones they've been to. This being the last station before they traverse the underground tunnel to Hakodate, the city it was in is a quaint, coastal area. Most people would stay on the shinkansen to get to Sapporo or Otaru but that would mean another 4 hours and an evening arrival. They decided to stay at Aomori for one night before heading to Otaru the next day.

In the airbnb they rented, they planned to spend most of the day indoors but go out to eat for dinner. Seokjin found a restaurant called Teji that serves Korean food and made their way to it that night.

"You didn't tell me yet what happened to you in Nara.", he said as he was grilling the samgyeopsal and bulgogi. "Yeah, I haven't told you, haven't I...", her voice trailed off.

Seokjin looked at her inquiringly, his eyes urging her to continue. I have to tell him, she realized, and began to tell him everything.

He had 2 expressions in the span of time he was listening to her: quizzical and surprised. She knew what she experienced was preposterous but he listened anyway.

"It's weird. Your dream sounds similar to what I had before. That's why I said I wanted to speak with you that day we met. I recognized you in my dream. Especially in the one where you were crying as you were sitting on the ground.", he said.

"Are you still dreaming the same dream?", she asked.

"Haven't yet so far. It stopped when we started hanging out."

She nodded. "I know this though: you feel quite comfortable to me and I didn’t regard you so much as a celebrity, like I was awe-struck. It was more of someone who was familiar but I felt quite shy to, if not anxious, yet curious to know. That's why it feels weird sonetimes. I don't know. It's probably just in my head. ", she replied.

Seokjin swayed his head no. "It sounds strange but I feel the same way." He looked at her softly and they locked eyes for a few seconds. Then he jumped up as the oil from the grill hit his hand.

"Oh no!", she exclaimed and pulled him to her to check his hand. "Does it hurt a lot?"

Seokjin started to laugh at his clumsiness and so did she. He then gave her a soft peck in the cheek and said, "Gwenchana, gwenchana..." She placed her right index finger on her lips, gave it a kiss and placed it on the burn mark on his hand. "All better!", she said with a big smile. Seokjin smiled back with his stunning, sweet smile.

--- to be continued ---

#bts imagination #bts imagines #bts fanfction #bts jin #btskismet #bts fic #bts

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chrysaliseuro2019 · 5 years

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Cliffhanger

Dimitsana has been a wonderful base to explore from and it would be so picturesque in winter when the snow season sets in up in them there hills. Mind you you’d want to have a mighty fine travel insurance policy because its worn marble steps are lethally slippery when dry let alone with snow and ice to add to their treachery.

Our accommodation was truly fabulous with the most gloriously comfy wide bed, luxurious pillows of varying structure (good for we of the dodgy neck brigade) complete with a fireplace for those colder months and a spacious and modern bathroom - don’t get to say that too often in Europe. On top of that the room had a number of books and masses of DVDs of good taste. No Rambo or Diehard here instead quality such as The Lives of Others etc. Clearly our host Dimitri was of sophisticated taste, and judging by the breakfasts his wife prepared, so was she.

Dimitri insisted the Outdoor Water Museum was a must visit before we left the area so that was our next stop. Staff almost outnumbered visitors as there were three of them and in the 1.5 hours we were there only one other couple arrived. Don’t think I’m being too harsh in saying that they could have cut the staff by 2/3rds and still have managed the ticket box (4 tickets in 1.5 hours) and turning on the switches of two machines without being over-taxed. Will be checking Seek for a job like this when I get back home.

We thought the displays were well laid out and enjoyed learning that millers made a living by milling customers grains and rather than charging a fee took a percentage of the milled grain. Too bad if you’re celiac, but I guess corn was an alternative. The tannery was definitely the worst of the jobs. The tanner’s hands must have been tough as old boots to deal with processes including salting, stripping, soaking the pelts in wood chips, and Chris’ least favourite, dunking the pelts in a blend of dog shit and water. Can only, and quite frankly, don’t want to imagine the smell. When we visited the still-alive-and-well tanneries of Fez several years ago we were told they used pigeon droppings. If I were a Greek tanner I’d have invested in a dovecote.

The final exhibit was the gunpowder exhibit. Dimitsana was one of the villages that knew how to collect saltpetre, a vital component gunpowder and they made gunpowder from the Greek War of Independence (1820’s-30’s) until early 20th century. Water was used to power the machines that mixed all the ingredients of gunpowder into a powder - OH&S was a bit of an issue because the powder if not treated correctly during processing had the tendency to to what it was intended to do....blow up.

The museum should be applauded for the effort that had gone into making it accessible for tourists. Not only did it supply a detailed brochure with map in the €4 entrance fee, there was a huge amount of written detail around the displays and, in case that wasn’t enough, 3 lengthy videos describing how water was used in milling, tanning and making gunpowder. No other Greek Museum has had so much information including the big ticket items like Olympia and the Acropolis. Well done little provincial Outdoor Water Museum of Dimitsana.

Still high amongst the mountains we made our way to our next destination around the challenging roads. Challenging not only because they were narrow and winding but the surface could switch from brand new to rutted and potholed in an instant. And to top it all off a steep drop down into the valley without barriers on one side and a sheer cliff face that occasionally shed its rocks across the road on the other. (I think we both occasionally let our minds drift to the possibility of being squashed or plummeting.) Apart from that it was a doddle! Chris did very well negotiating the hazards although a couple of times did go a little too close to the edge where I could peer over into the abyss as I gripped white-knuckled onto the door...Penny if you’re reading this you’ll get my drift.

On the winding drive down to the monastery car park we passed an isolated tower with Greek music playing and a solitary car parked beside it. We could only surmise it was the manned fire lookout. A little incongruously the lookout was a wooden construction and there appeared to be no Wifi according to our phones. We wondered what would happen if there was a bushfire. Does the warden hotfoot it from his out-of-range combustible tower to the local town to send the alarm? Meanwhile as he minds his post it would be a hot lonely job as there also appeared to be no air conditioning. Suggest Fire warden consider a career change to a much cushier position at the Water Museum.

Stopped at the car park to visit the Prodromou Monastery reportedly a 20 minute walk away. By now it was 12.40pm and we had just spotted the bane of the tourist’s life - a sign saying’ ‘Closed between 1pm -3pm’. A Dutch couple pulled up so discussed the inconvenience of this and set off at fast pace, well as fast as old knees going down rocky and shale paths and steps will allow. Fortunately the walk was only roughly 10 minutes through a verdant forest so got there in time being totally awestruck by the monastery. How this Monastery of St John the Baptist was constructed into a sheer cliff face is mind blowing. The original site dates back to 16th century and was used as a hospital during the Greek War of Independence and was rebuilt in 1976 over the remains of an old hermitage. Surrounding the monastery are large forested mountains and down below is the Lousios Gorge with the Lousios River flowing through it. It’s truly a picturesque scene.

Having donned our modesty wraps to hide our shorts we were allowed to enter the monastery. Up the stairs into a small vestibule chapel carved into the rock with the bare rock face exposed. A kitchen and a sitting room were off this vestibule and that was the complete floor. Up some steps to the chapel proper, a small dark room with paintings on the rock walls, about 10 seats lining the walls and a little altar. Then further steps up to the balcony off which were the monks’ rooms. One door was open showing just how spartan a monk’s life can be. The room contained 6 basic beds, no feathertop mattresses here, each with a bundle of basic blankets folded at the foot. Absent were bedside tables and lamps, chairs, desks, wardrobes or any form of creature comfort beyond a bed. Even more basic than some of our dodgy holiday hotels.

The verandah was an old creaky affair that ran the length of the monastery suspended out from the rocks and supported by a rustic wooden structure beneath. We felt it prudent to tread lightly! The only ornamental relief there were some church bells, a wooden gong and mallet which by the look of the gong were there for function not appearance and three further oblong metal gongs of graduated sizes.

Back down to the vestibule level where the priest made visitors (and there were only 6 of us during the time we were there) coffee and provided biscuits, water, and most incongruously, Turkish Delight.

After about half an hour, so 20 minutes into “closed time” we headed off, grateful for the priest’s kindness and leniency.

Huffed and puffed our way back up through the forest path, took some more photos of the lovely surrounds. Had also heard of a town nearby worth looking at so went in search. Followed yet more bendy roads (warning: motion sickness sufferers do not come)to a small but full carpark. Many minutes passed faffing about where to park along the road, ‘Here?’ ‘Yes that’ll do, other cars can pass.’ Then ‘No, think we’ll park there.’ ‘OK then.’ ‘No maybe not. Let me just go there’ followed by a reversal without taking the bend of the road and getting eye bulgingly close a small dip off the road that the little Micra would have trouble getting back up again (nothing to do with the navigator this time). Stopped in the nick of time which coincided with a minivan on tour studying Ancient Greek about to head off from the carpark. Chris waited for the stragglers to pile back in the bus and meanwhile the tour leader advised the town not worth a visit. We took him at his word. Instead went down to the fast flowing Lousios river where a few people were picnicking for the day. Would have been a beautiful place for rafting and swimming but getting the bathers out for a 10 minute swim for one (me) too much fuss. Instead filled my water bottle with fresh cool water and we headed off towards Mystras.

Stopped off for lunch of yet another Greek Salad -perfect lunch fare - under a terrace in a pretty stone village then 1.5 hours more of mountain roads which eventually flattened out a bit to olive tree and orange tree country

I’d had a Mystras accommodation suggestion from Teresa the lady I’d fortuitously met in Melbourne who runs Peloponnese tours. As we approached Mystras we passed it and luckily it had a vacancy. Quirky and large room with magnificent view over the valley and to the mountains beyond. Dinner was at a restaurant Chris had seen recommend in Lonely Planet. 250 metres up a steep hill and rewarded by a seat on the terrace overlooking the mountains and the ruins of Mystras not far away. Dinner was ok, not quite as fabulous as its reviews intimated. Also hindered by no vodka and tonic, rosé that was like engine oil, my first menu preference not available and lots of dishes with creamy sauce that Chris can’t handle. Still the setting was first class and we didn’t go home hungry.

As usual when time came to settle, mine host requested cash declaring his card machine wasn’t working today. I can bet my bottom Euro it wasn’t working yesterday and it won’t be working tomorrow either. This ruse was delivered in hushed tones to each table but it’s the way of things nearly everywhere in Greece. So then we played a game of bluff. I said I wasn’t sure we had enough cash so he double-bluffed me saying we could leave without paying and transfer the cash to his account later. Would like to have taken him up on this to see if he would seriously let two strangers leave on an eat-now-pay-later basis. I think the machine might have sprung into action if all diners took this stance. But I miraculously ‘found’ a €50 note and paid. After all it’s endemic through Greece and one tourist’s obstinate moral stance will change nothing.

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thelunarbond · 5 years

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5, 7, 8, 9, 12, 13, 15 for everyone? (also, feel free to switch between IC and OOC for the questions depending on which you feel would work better)

Your OC meets a magical talking frog with a quest, what is your OC’s next move?

Yume: Will do anything for the magical talking frog, and will take up its quest almost immediately

Chase: Ignores the frog completely, doesn’t even notice that it’s talking

Lavender: Gets grossed out by the frog as frogs are slimy and ugly in her opinion, but will probably do the quest anyway

Minami: IS VERY EXCITED AS SHE LOVES MAGICAL CREATURES and is super happy to meet one in real life! She’ll definitely do her best to do the quest

Alexis: Wonders how the frog got into her room in the first place. Once she realised that it’s talking she’ll probably put it outside and leave it there

Phoenix: Unholy screeching, followed by him running away as fast as his legs can carry him

Your OC is running from the guards, why are they most likely running from them?

Yume: Stealing something valuable, like jewels

Chase: Using his sarcasm and dry humour to start a fight with the guard’s boss

Lavender: Breaking something of high importance

Minami: Breaking someone she cares about out of jail

Alexis: Waving a sword around

Phoenix: Multiple unfortunate occurrences that get out of control, such as falling over and then breaking something and then finding valuables in his pockets before standing on the guard’s foot as he leaves

How would your OC describe their best friend using three words to a stranger?

💙 Yume 💙 :

“Cool, suave, bossy! …If Chase hears me call him bossy he’s gonna yell at me, please don’t tell him I said that!”

Chase:

“Short, eccentric, reliable. Now, what did Yume say about me?”

Lavender 💐 :

“Best friend? I hate choosing a best friend! They’re all good for different reasons! But… I suppose I’ll say talented, stylish and funny!”

(Lavender’s best friend is an OC I haven’t introduced yet 👀 -zee)

💕Minami 💕:

“He’s… quiet, complex and clever. I don’t know if Phoenix will describe me as his best friend but I feel like he’s mine! I hope he thinks we’re best friends.”

Alexis 🎮:

“This is super awkward. I don’t want to use a specific member of the Lunar Bond for this activity cuz I don’t know if I’m anyone’s best friend and if they don’t use me as their best friend then it’d be super embarrassing and I’ll feel like an idiot-”

Phoenix:

“B-Best friend? Hmm… Don’t tell Minami I used her for this, but she’s kind, strong and calming. I feel the most relaxed when I’m with her. Please don’t tell her any of this or I’ll actually disintegrate with embarrassment.”

Your OC decides they can dye their own hair, with their very little knowledge about hair, how does this go? Do they have their friends with them, supporting them? Do they do it when they are alone? Do they do it before a big and upcoming event?

Yume: It goes surprisingly well, considering how reckless he is with everything else in his life. He’d choose a vibrant, out there colour like neon green or dark blue, and he’d do it before going to a big event like a party. He most likely invited Chase over for moral support and he spends the whole time making sarcastic comments that he looks like a coloured marker; Yume wouldn’t take any notice of them and be in love with his new look

Chase: It goes well for Chase, however this is unsurprising considering how meticulous he is about everything. He’d make sure to follow the instructions by the letter in order to get it perfect. He’d dye his hair a fairly normal colour, most likely black or dark brown, to make a change from it’s natural dark red. He wouldn’t dye his hair before a big event as despite the fact that he followed the instructions perfectly, he would be afraid of it getting messed up and having photos of it haunt him forever. He’d dye his hair while he’s alone so he can concentrate better

Lavender: It would be a mess. She’d get hair dye all over her bathroom, her clothes and her skin, and it wouldn’t be the colour she intended it to be and it’d be covered in gaps. She’d want her hair to be a pastel pink but it’d come out dark pink or off red as she didn’t follow the instructions properly. She’d most likely have a group of friends there to help out and support her, and she’d cry on their shoulders about her “ugly” hair, and how its never going to be the same again, and they’ll remind her that hair grows back. She’d definitely dye her hair before a big event and then feel like an idiot afterwards

Minami: She always has pink dyed tips so dying her full head would be a breeze, as her sister taught her how to dye hair anyway. She’d choose a light colour, such as mint or light blue. She’d most likely have Phoenix there to talk to while she does it, and she’d offer to dye his while she was doing it (he’d always say no.) She always dyes her hair anyway so it would most likely be dyed before an event

Alexis: It’d turn out okay for a first attempt, not amazing but not horrific either. She’d probably have forgotten the roots but nothing too awful. She’d always dye her hair while she was alone because she would be scared of someone making mean comments about it or not liking it. She’d dye her hair a dark colour, such as dark purple, black or dark red, as her hair is naturally dark anyway. Alexis doesn’t go to big events unless they’re online so she wouldn’t dye her hair before a typical “big event”

Phoenix: He may be academically gifted, but he has no common sense. Because of this, dying his hair would be a disaster (but not to the same degree as Lavender). It’d be the intended colour, which would most likely be black or blue, but wouldn’t be evenly covered. He’d have Minami there to tell him how to do it, and would refuse every time she offered to just do it for him. He’d then be massively embarrassed and try and wash it out until finally letting Minami fix it. He’d never dye his hair before an event as he’d be afraid of what others would say.

What is something completely random about your OC that even you, as the writer, find confusing?

I don’t really get this question, as I wouldn’t write something into my characters that would confuse me 😅 Sorry!

How does your OC celebrate their birthday? What is their wildest birthday story?

💙 Yume 💙 :

“I invite all my friends to the beach and we stay there all night! Bonfires, night swimming in the ocean, ghost stories, cave exploring, sleeping under the stars… It’s the best! I celebrate my birthday like that every year! And I have a lot of wild stories from my past birthday parties. Back when I lived with my parents, we took my dad’s speedboat out and ended up staying the night in a cave far from where we were meant to stay. My parents weren’t impressed, but dad shouldn’t have made his keys so easy to steal, y’know?”

Chase:

“I celebrate my birthday differently every year, it’d be boring otherwise. For my last birthday, I went abroad with my friends and went to a load of foreign clubs. I have no idea how we managed to get Yume into all of them, but we did. My wildest birthday story, huh… There’s been a few, but it has to be the time my parents were away and we partied in my house all night. When they came home they found Yume and a few other friends asleep outside on the lawn, and a few other friends were playing video games in the living room, and some were passed out in the kitchen… We didn’t even drink back then, we were just wild kids!”

Lavender 💐:

“I invite my best friends over for a sleepover at my house! We order pizza, we’ll play some dance games, we’ll gossip until like 2am before we go to sleep and wake up early the next day to go to a cafe and get pancakes for breakfast! There was one time when my friend was talking about the boy she had a crush on, and we prank called him! That was so funny because in the end, they ended up actually getting together!”

💕Minami 💕:

“I like to go out for a nice meal for my birthday. I invite maybe a couple of close friends and we have a chilled out time. I don’t really like inviting a lot of people because then I get scared I’m leaving someone out of the conversation. I’m not really a wild party animal so I don’t have any crazy birthday stories like Yume or Chase have, but there was one time where the waiter was bringing out my birthday cake and everyone sang happy birthday, and then she dropped it on the floor face down. I felt bad for the waiter more than anything!”

Alexis 🎮:

“…I don’t really celebrate my birthday. It’s a day just like any other. However I do like the bonuses I get in my games on my birthday. The craziest birthday story I have is that one time I slept all the way through my birthday because I pulled an all nighter playing a game with some online friends.”

Phoenix:

“I don’t do anything too crazy for my birthday, but I might buy some takeout for dinner and watch a film while I eat it. On my last birthday Minami came over and we played some games together as well, it was… pretty fun. We ended up talking about random stuff until 4am, and she stayed over on the couch. There was one time when I was a young kid when my parents took me to an outdoor maze for my birthday and I got lost for 5 hours on my own. I haven’t been in a maze since…”

Your OC now gets to strut around in a cape, what colour is the cape and what do they accessorize the cape with?

Yume: a dark blue cape that has a white fur trim, and is intricately decorated in sparkles. He’d wear a crown and big platform boots with it and feel like a QUEEN

Chase: A maroon red cape fit for royalty. He’d definitely carry a sceptre and feel like he’s the best person in the whole world

Lavender: A pink, faux fur cape that has a hood with animal ears on it. It’s most likely part of a lolita coordinate she’s put together for the colder winter months

Minami: A long, gold, silky cape. She’d wear a flowy dress underneath and enjoy spinning around and watching the fabric flutter

Alexis: A long, black cape with feathers on it. She’d march around her room still wearing her jogging bottoms and vest shirt but with the cape on, and she’d feel like a cartoon villain

Phoenix: A light blue, slightly opalescent cape. He’d wear sandals and loose clothes and feel like a mythical river being (but he wouldn’t tell anyone that)

Sorry it took so long for me to get around to this! I’ve been a little busy over the past few days (RIP)

#lunar bond #ocs #oc #answers #ailuroscorvus

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bringhopetohumanity · 6 years

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— BASICS.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE TALL / SHORT / AVERAGE ? Short. She’s 4′7″/140cm. That’s not much taller than most mobians. Given that she’s only twelve she’ll get taller if as she gets older.

▸ ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT ? It’s a good height when your brother is a mobian! But for things intended for humans she sometimes wishes she was taller. High shelves are the bane of her existence.

▸ WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE ? Soft and fluffy with a bit of bounce. If you started running your fingers through you’d have a hard time stopping.

▸ DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR / GROOMING ? Maria takes good care of her hair. She doesn’t spend hours on it like she knows some people do, but she washes it often and uses nice shampoos so it comes out nice and soft. As for styling all she really does is brush it the way she wants it and adds her hairband.

▸ DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE / WHAT OTHERS THINK ? Maria cares what she thinks. She wants to look pretty and/or cute and does her best to achieve that. What other people think of her looks doesn’t matter to her. Unless it’s family then she cares a bit more, but doesn’t always take their advice.

— PREFERENCES.

▸ INDOORS OR OUTDOORS ? Outdoors! She’s been longing for the great outdoors all her life. Given the chance she’ll stay outside as long as reasonable. Until it becomes a hazard to her health you’ll find her with the sky overhead.

▸ RAIN OR SUNSHINE ? While sunshine is beautiful and warm she’d pick rain. Something she could never have back on the ARK. No the shower is absolutely not the same. Unless it’s storm levels of downpour she’ll probably be standing in it with no umbrella. And then have Shadow scold her because that’s how you catch a cold and that’d be a stupid reason to die. ▸ FOREST OR BEACH ? Either, but leaning toward the beach. Maria loves nature in all its forms and would be quite happy in a little cottage in the woods. But the beach, oh goodness the ocean entrances her. She’ll spend hours just watching the waves, taking in that salty air, and digging her fingers into the warm sand. ▸ PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS ? Gems are prettier. Plus she knows Shadow’s powers work better around those gems called Chaos Emeralds so there’s a bit of a bias there. But gems are just so much more beautiful then metals.

▸ FLOWERS OR PERFUMES ? Flowers. Perfumes smell lovely and can emulate a great many things but Maria would prefer the natural scent in its purest form. Flowers any day. ▸ PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE ? Personality. What is most important is how the person acts, how they treat others, what are their interests and dreams? Personality is key. Never judge a book by its cover. Never judge a person by their looks.

But Maria is attracted to pretty girls. Beauty is subjective of course and she doesn’t have set-in-stone standards. She likes those that feel ethereal in some way. That just with your appearance you evoke that feeling of being an angel in another life. Personality helps with this but it is looks that grab her first. ▸ BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD ? A crowd. Always. Even if she doesn’t know anyone there she just doesn’t want to be alone. Too many days spent on her own staring out a window, trying as hard as she can to find a bright side. Too many days alone before Abe and Shadow. She’ll always take a crowd. ▸ ORDER OR ANARCHY ? Order. Anarchy is chaos and chaos causes bad things to happen. Order is peace. Order is calm. Order is the best way to do things. Unless of course you mean some kind of dystopian order, in which case she will fully support anarchy provided no-one is hurt. Protest and break in and overthrow the evil people. Just don’t hurt and/or kill anyone in the process.

▸ PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES ? White lies. She wants people to be happy and if that’s what it takes then so be it. It’s not a big lie. It won’t affect them for years to come. It won’t damage their psyche. It’s just a little minor lie that keeps them from being sadder.

▸ SCIENCE OR MAGIC ? Science of course! She’s a Robotnik after all; it runs in the family. She leans toward medical science if we’re getting specific. She’s also a kid though and is willing to believe in magic if you can convince her that it doesn’t break the laws of physics. ▸ PEACE OR CONFLICT ? Peace. Maria has only ever wanted peace. The world would be a better place if everyone put down their weapons, talked things over, and learned to love each other. ▸ NIGHT OR DAY ? Day. She’s had the night sky all her life up in space. Maria will always prefer day. The sun shining overhead, clouds floating on by, everything lit naturally. Even on dreary and cloudy/rainy days she still prefers them to the night.

▸ DUSK OR DAWN ? Dawn. As I said she’s had night all her life. What a joy it is to watch the sun climb up the horizon and bathe the world in its bright warmth! Maria will get up early, even if she’s exhausted, just to watch the sunrise. It’s something no-one should take for granted.

▸ WARMTH OR COLD ? Warmth. Even though the ARK was heated it just felt cold. The nature of a metal space station full of research experiments. The warmth to Maria came from the people, not the place. She prefers Earth which is warm in both aspects.

If we’re talking just basic temperature the same applies. Maria prefers to be warm but her stature makes her easily cold. She likes to have warm clothes and lots of blankets/a heated blanket in colder temperatures.

▸ MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS ? A few close friends. Maria will take either honestly but she likes to be close to the people she knows. She wants to really get to know them and be a part of their lives.

▸ READING OR PLAYING A GAME ?

— QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS ? Maria is a fidgeter. No matter the situation she wants to be moving. This stems from so many days laid up in the medical wing’s beds. There is a longing there to not waste her time by doing nothing so she unconsciously satisfies it by doing small things to keep idle; fiddling with any accessories she’s wearing, running a hand through her hair, swinging her legs from a tall chair, re-organizing the objects around her, etc. It has driven more than one researcher up the wall when she’s visiting them and can’t keep still while they work.

There’s also the little white lies as mentioned above. Small things to keep people happier. She knows lying is bad but sometimes the best option truly is ‘what they don’t know can’t hurt them’. If a lie can make it better and not majorly affect things then that will be her first instinct. Maria will also lie to protect her friends on a small scale. Like say Abe or Shadow accidentally broke something and hid the evidence. ❝Well if it’s gone missing can you get a new one?❞ Until they fess up she’ll cover for them.

▸ HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM ? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM ? She lost her parents when she was too young to remember. There are photos of Alice and Cyril with little baby Maria, and the stories Gerald tells of his daughter and her husband, but that’s all she’s ever known of them. There’s a sadness in her when she hears those stories and looks at those photos but its a sadness of never having the opportunity to know them.

She also lost her grandfather, the only father she ever knew, later in life. In my main verse she doesn’t know this. Only in my ghost verse is she aware of what her death did to him. It devastated her how much she hurt him, and how much he hurt Shadow in turn. But she refuses to remember him that way. She holds her head high and keeps him in her heart with all the happy memories they shared.

Maria knows people would rather be remembered fondly so she tries not to get too sad over them. Oh she’ll be a wreck at first but eventually she’ll smile when thinking of them rather than cry.

▸ WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS ? Family time. Sometimes if he had a break from work Gerald would join in Shadow and Maria’s games or read to them. Those moments the three of them spent as a family will always be remembered fondly.

Also the games she played with Abe. To her he’s not the Commander of GUN. He’s just the little boy who was always trying to cheer her up with some silly game. Even though she wasn’t physically fit she tried her hardest to be a good playmate. He was excellent at tag and hide-n-seek and never treated her as anything less than an equal. She treasures those memories.

▸ IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL ? Oh god no! Maria would never. Could never.

▸ WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN ? When Maria breaks she becomes a sobbing mess. I hate the term ‘ugly cry’ cause no-one is pretty when they’re crying, but Maria definitely fits the usage of that term and what it entails.

▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE ? Yes. Not many people but yes. Gerald, Shadow, and Abe is about the extent of that list. Maybe Ivo if she gets to know him better. Maria is a very trusting girl but her life has always been on borrowed time. You’d better be able to take care of it.

Of course on the flipside as much as she cares about herself she cares about others more. Those people I mentioned? She’d sacrifice herself in a heartbeat if it meant they got to keep living. Hence taking a bullet for Shadow.

▸ WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE ? Maria is quite happy and giggly, always trying to do nice things for her crush. Do you like this? Let me get it for you! Oh you’ve always wanted to go there? Let’s go together! Her selflessness has always been at 11 but the way she throws herself at the object of her affections...

She can be a bit clingy in this regard. She understands though if they want to back away because of it. She’ll give them their space. Hopefully they’ll come back. Maria can be intense in her affections. It’s best that they are directed at someone who can handle this and return them equally. That would be her ideal partner later in life.

#⧼ Dossier ✦ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs ⧽#long post #//If you want to do this go right ahead!

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iztarshi · 6 years

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Season 1 Flashbacks

I really love the ways Utena uses animation in various memories and flashbacks. There’s both an overall style to them that ties them together and different visual elements used to show the different ways different people remember, from traumatically vivid memories to memories of an event you know happened but no longer remember the details of.

So, I wrote some thoughts on all the season 1 flashbacks, although I’ve probably said a lot of really obvious things.

Episode 1 — Utena’s flashback

It’s very theatrical, right from the start with a curtain going up. The flat shadows on the background make it even more so — it’s not just that the silhouettes replace barely remembered people, the entirety of the scenery is false.

The sudden flashes of accurate animation seem to indicate the few real events that she remembers enough to have built the fairy tale around, but it would be reasonable to assume she remembers they happened rather than actually remembering them in the visual detail we’re seeing. Mistaking Touga for her prince makes much more sense if she doesn’t actually remember he had dark skin and white hair.

The silhouettes, too, are a stylish way to show only barely remembered people, but I don’t think they necessarily mean the only thing anyone remembers is hair colour.

Also, I just like that Utena remembers a totally non-existent horse. Princes have horses, right?

Episode 5 — Miki’s flashback

Miki’s flashback starts out framed like old sepia pictures. It’s a warm look and a very nostalgic one.

The colours become colder and the outlines firmer once it’s the specific story of the concert and not just a nostalgic memory of any and every time they played the piano in the garden, but it’s still heavily stylised. Miki and Kozue both remain silhouetted, suggesting he doesn’t know who either of them were back then. The colours get colder and darker still once Miki is ill and then when Kozue won’t play the piano again. The whole thing is more detailed and real than Utena’s flashback, but still suggests an event that Miki remembers remembering perhaps more than he remembers exactly what happened.

Episode 5 — Kozue’s flashback

Kozue’s image of them makes them both silhouettes, too, casting doubt on whether her memory is accurate either. Her picture is the very nostalgic sepia tone we started off with in Miki’s, even though she’s saying she never enjoyed it and talking about the concert. Her black rose duel kind of gets back into this, that she wants to return to those days just as much as Miki.

There are red rose petals in the background of hers, too, which… I think red can often be associated with desire for something. Red things in Utena are often desirable — the Akio car, Anthy when she’s playing the Rose Bride role, and Touga himself is desired and plays on that a lot.

Episode 6 — Mitsuru’s flashback

You know, I wasn’t sure whether to include this. But it’s still a flashback, it’s an important formative experience for Mitsuru, and it has a bit in common with the episode nine flashback in which some other boys also can’t save a girl.

It’s told in semi-shadows. Not the silhouettes of imperfect memory, but something more like the shock of not being able to take in everything at once. The background is very bright, whited out, and only the bull, Nanami, Touga and Mitsuru are really remembered.

Touga’s age seems a little wrong here for how small Nanami is. Maybe it’s Mitsuru’s hero worship colouring things, but he did apparently just punch out a bull, so who knows.

There’s also a parallel between Mitsuru and Utena, here, in that they’re very devoted to becoming a “prince” or a “big brother” which has nothing to do, really, with becoming royalty or literal family. Mitsuru’s sneakier than Utena, though, willing to put Nanami in danger in order to save her and fulfil the role he’s set himself, making him more — hilariously — a parallel to Touga who will do exactly the same thing to Utena herself.

Episode 7 — Juri’s flashback

Juri remembers the people in detail, but the background is stylised and black and white and the poses are often staged. She remembers everyone involved, but the exact events are lost in the general thrust of the developing love triangle.

This is the first time a flashback comes with an associated photograph. One of the memories takes place during a class photo shoot — did Shiori really whisper that exactly then, or is Juri imposing it on a moment she has reason to be especially well able to recall?

As a side note it feels weird to see the student council in normal Ohtori uniforms, a reminder that they’ve been in Ohtori longer than they’ve been in the duelling game. Given that Ohtori has an attached elementary school and Miki, Kozue, Touga and Nanami appear to live locally enough for their actual houses to be within Akio’s sphere of influence, I wonder if they have any sense of how weird any of this is? Have their whole lives just been mildly surreal?

Episode 9 — Saionji’s flashback

This and Nanami’s flashback are the most intense, probably because Saionji and Nanami seem actively traumatised by these events. To the point both of them attempt to lash out and kill Utena while caught up in reliving them.

The first thing that’s interesting about this flashback is that Saionji is telling it to Utena, who remains completely unaware that she appears in it. The two of them have made such different stories out of the memory that they can’t reconcile them at all — Utena doesn’t even remember Touga and Saionji were there and he can’t recognise her as the girl they wanted to save.

Saionji’s first flashback image is a warmly sepia coloured picture in which he and Touga appear as silhouettes. Incongruously it makes him scowl and declare he won’t lose to Touga. Like Miki’s sunlit garden, it appears to be a nostalgic image of something they did a lot rather than a memory of a specific scene.

They start out as greyscale faceless silhouettes, with Saionji’s bandage standing out white, and then are suddenly lit into colour when Touga sees the funeral and stops. It’s a neat effect, as they go from a general memory of something they’d done dozens of times, the hurt hand the only unusual thing about it, into the vividness of a specific and traumatic memory.

It’s only himself and Touga that Saionji remembers clearly, though. The adults in the memory remain silhouettes and Utena herself is one, recognisable by her pink hair.

It’s not clear whether the background is greyscale or whether it’s just the darkness of the storm, but the coffins are not, and the red roses on them stand out especially. Juri’s flashbacks tend to black and white with orange standing out, Saionji and Nanami both have flashbacks where red is the dominant colour.

Nothing about the memory is stylised or staged, though. Saionji may not understand the people involved, but he seems to recall the events very accurately. The fact that Touga spends the memory behaving rather strangely only makes it more plausible.

When Saionji flashes back again after hearing the word “kamikakushi” he can’t see anyone’s faces, as if he’s no longer sure who he and Touga were back then either.

Not a flashback, but I really appreciate the way the greyscale picture of Touga in bed with a bandaged chest echoes the grayscale picture of Touga and Saionji on the bike with Saionji’s bandaged hand.

Episode 10 — Nanami’s flashback

Oh, Nanami.

The shot of the birthday cake gives us a much more fixed time for this flashback than any of the previous ones. It’s Touga’s birthday, and you can count the candles to find out that he’s twelve. You can also see this is the same mansion they’re living in now, the vaguely threatening shot showing layers of empty halls and doors is virtually identical to the later one where Touga is telling Nanami why she shouldn’t be a lesbian. (If there’s a connection, I’d guess it’s that Touga is becoming one of the adults who shuts her out and doesn’t try to understand her.)

The adults are certainly threatening here, a faceless, colourless mob, where you can’t even really pick out Nanami’s parents. Touga and Nanami are the only ones in colour — they’re also the only children present. Touga seems to be both enthroned and surrounded, people are calling him Touga-sama and kneeling, but is this really the kind of party a twelve-year-old would want?

The way Nanami reacts when her father tries to grab her, and how quickly — and adultly — Touga intervenes just makes the adults seem more of a threat. You can see why Nanami misses being sure her brother was on her side when she’s never had anyone else.

Interestingly, when Nanami resumes her flashback for the more traumatic part, she and Touga are now greyscale. The only thing that stands out is the red of the apples he won’t help her pick. Something Nanami wants, but needs Touga to gain.

Honestly, I think getting angry with Nanami for hitting his cat is the most emotion we see Touga display, ever? Even in Saionji’s memory, his emotions are very guarded, here he’s reacting far more like you’d expect a child to react. Although Nanami’s response to it suggests that she’s not used to this kind of reaction from him. She’s taking it as a serious rejection, not as her brother being upset with her right now.

Nanami is now standing in front of her own memory, as if it’s a cinema screen and she can watch it all unfold over again.

In the last section of her flashback her dress and hair are yellow again, for the first time her own colour is the one notably present in addition to black and white. (She was in colour earlier, but wearing pink and red.) The part she most associates with herself is the worst part, the kitten’s death and her own remorse.

There are also a few flashes of green in bits of her memory, an adult’s suit and the leaves Touga was playing with the kitten with. Jealousy?

The way her killing the kitten and regretting it is interspersed with her attacking Utena suggests she really did intend to kill Utena but, like the kitten, would have regretted it immediately if she’d succeeded.

#utena #revolutionary girl utena #very long post #I hope no one is reading this on their phones #I'm sorry #Touga gets no flashbacks but everyone gets flashbacks about him #Utena nearly gets killed twice in a row by people having flashbacks #memories are dangerous things

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ibelongtonegan · 6 years

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Apple Pie (Negan one-shot)

This story is for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash’s “Fall Into Negan” writing challenge. The prompt that I chose was “Apple picking” and first I intended to write something sweet and fluffy but my dirty mind went down the gutter pretty quickly. I blame it all on Negan, he made me do it! It’s my first time ever participating in a fic challenge and I was super excited to write this story.

Photos source: (x)

Summary: you come across an apple orchard but when Negan, the owner catches you stealing his apples, you have to pay a hefty price for your crime.

Characters: Negan x Reader

Word count: 4,269

Warnings: angst, dirty talk, smut (breath play, cum play, oral sex, orgasm withdrawal, rough sex, vaginal sex), swearing

Tags: @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash, @negans-network, @emoryhemsworth, @ridingmoxley, @ladysyn

Let me know if you would like to be added to my forever tag list!

I appreciate feedback and most days don’t bite. So don’t be shy, please feel free to comment, message or ask me anything!

At first, you couldn’t believe your luck. You stumbled upon it by pure chance, when you decided to cut through the forest following a narrow path. It led you to a clearing about the size of a baseball field that looked like it belonged on the cover of a cheesy harlequin novel. There it was right in the middle of the vast field surrounded by knee-high grass. An orchard with two dozen apple trees. The branches laden with ripe, red apples, inviting to be picked. The soft flesh and sweet juice of the fruit begging to be tasted.

You looked around for any signs of people but there was no sound or movement, except for the merry chirping of the birds and the soft rustling of the leaves in the light autumn breeze. The nights were getting colder but the sun still felt pleasantly warm on your skin.

You made your way to the trees to take a closer look. Since the start of the apocalypse, most trees stopped growing fruit altogether or their produce was eaten up by birds and worms before rotting away but these trees were different. Their branches were hanging low due to the number of apples on them and from up close it was evident that their fruit was not only big and ripe but perfectly healthy as well. A rare find, in fact, an impossible one. Too good to be true.

Not being able to withstand the temptation, you lifted your arm and brought your fingers around a red globe smiling down at you. You tugged on it carefully and the branch let it go easily as if rewarding you for relieving it of its heavy cargo. You rubbed the surface of the fruit with the sleeve of your sweatshirt to clean away the thin layer of dust covering it. You lifted the apple to your mouth and took a hearty bite, sinking your teeth into the crunchy fruit. The juice spilled out at the corners of your mouth and flowed down your chin. You moaned out loud and closed your eyes in pleasure as the sweet sensation spread in your mouth. It was the most delicious fruit you had ever had. Or maybe you had not remembered how good apples tasted, not having eaten one since the apocalypse had begun.

You lifted the hem of your hoodie to form a make-shift bag and started picking the apples into it. You could probably carry about two dozen easily back home. They would make an excellent ingredient for a sauce, compote but the dish you were most excited to make from them was a pie. The classic family recipe passed down from mother to daughter for generations. A simple shortcrust pastry filled with the delicious fruit and spiced up with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves. The perfect dessert for Sunday lunch best served with hot vanilla sauce. You could practically feel the sweet, spicy taste of the pie in your mouth and saliva started pooling on your tongue.

You were about to grab another apple from a tall branch when you heard a cracking noise behind you. Turning around quickly you noticed a tall man with short black hair leaning casually against one of the apple trees only a couple of feet away from you. A mischievous smirk played on his lips that didn’t quite reach his dark hazel eyes as he looked you up and down curiously. His black boots, grey pants, and black leather jacket were a rather unusual choice of attire, but the red scarf around his neck stood out in particular. He looked more like a rock star than a survivor of the apocalypse. You had no idea how he managed to sneak up on you unnoticed. Apparently, you got so caught up daydreaming that you let your guard down completely. Luckily it wasn’t a walker but you knew all too well that sometimes people were far more dangerous than the half-dead. And while the man’s posture was relaxed and didn’t convey any threat or malicious intent, you wanted to be rather safe than sorry. You took a quick glance around the clearing but there was nobody else around besides you and the stranger.

Watching you intently the man spoke first, his voice deep and oozing confidence.

“Well, would you look at that. What do we have here? Little Red Riding Hood picking apples for her granny!”

“Uhm…can I help you?” you opted to go with being polite for starters.

“You most certainly can. First of by telling me what you are doing out here on your own? These woods are very dangerous for a pretty little thing like you.”

“I can take care of myself,” you replied confidently.

“Oh, I’m sure you can. But what if you come across the Big Bad Wolf?” the man asked flashing his perfect teeth.

You raised an eyebrow at his answer, contemplating if he was only joking or being serious with you. Judging by the smirk still tugging at the corner of his full lips, it was the former.

“It depends. Does he bite?” you quipped holding his gaze.

“You will find out soon enough. He might just gobble you up whole.”

The dangerous promise made a chill go down your spine. You have just met this man and he was shamelessly flirting with you already.

“Don’t mind me, doll. Keep doing what you were doing,” he continued motioning towards the apples in your hoodie-bag.

You hesitated for a second trying to assess the stranger. He didn’t seem to pose any danger, leaning against the trunk of the tree lazily, his hands tucked away in his pockets. He didn’t have any weapons on him, at least not where you could see them. If he tried anything you could take him out with your knife or run. Either way, he seemed to be harmless. Crude but harmless. He wasn’t the first man to hit on you and you were certain that you could hold him at bay. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes too. Maybe too sure of himself but quite good looking nonetheless. Before the apocalypse, he would have been the type women’s magazines called tall, dark and handsome. Making up your mind finally you continued to pick the apples but positioned yourself to keep an eye on him at all times.

"What are you going to do with them?” the stranger inquired nonchalantly.

"Apple pie,” you admitted with a shrug.

“I love apple pie. Especially with a lot of cream," he mused licking his lips and eyeing you suggestively up and down.

“Well, there’s plenty of apples here for both of us. Suit yourself and pick some for a pie,” you scoffed with an edge to your tone. You didn’t like the sly look on his face.

"I don't think so, Little Red. I'd rather have a taste of your pie."

That comment should have been your first warning that something was wrong.

"Are you one of them?" you asked trying to reach a particularly big apple sitting on a higher branch. You didn’t like where the conversation was going but disregarded the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach in favor of distracting him by changing the subject.

"One of who?" he asked picking up an apple that had fallen down on the ground. You noticed that he was wearing a glove on his right hand, which only added to the list of strange pieces of clothing on him.

"The people living at the big factory down the road behind the forest. They call themselves the Saviors."

"Nope. Never heard of them before," he said seemingly uninterested and started tossing the fruit up and down in his palm as if it were a baseball.

"They are a pretty scary group, have lots of guns and have most of the communities in the area under their thumb. Almost everybody works for them now and have to scavenge or grow stuff for them that they collect every week," you informed him, glad to have found a safer topic to talk about.

"Interesting. How do you know all this?"

“I passed by a place three days ago and they told me about them. Alexville or something like that. They murdered two of their citizens.” There were about fifteen apples in your hoodie now and they were starting to weigh down the fabric. A couple more and you were good to go. Unless the stranger caused you any trouble.

“You mean Alexandria?” he wondered and started tossing the apple back and forth between his hands.

“Yeah, Alexandria that’s the one! A really nice community with beautiful houses and they even have tap water and solar panels,” you added the awe evident in your voice. You could still feel the sensation of the hot shower you were allowed to take when you spent the night at one of the abandoned houses of the community. “You know them?”

“Briefly,” he replied nonchalantly still playing with the apple in his hand.

"They told me that if the communities don't deliver to the Saviors, they get punished brutally. I heard some really gruesome stories about their leader too. He's a bully asshole everybody dreads. His weapon of choice is a crowbar riddled with nails he uses to kill walkers and his enemies with. Rumor has it that he calls the thing Lucy. A pretty silly name for a weapon, if you ask me. Wouldn’t want to stand on the receiving end of it though."

"Probably better not to cross paths with him then."

"Yeah, tell me about it," you replied with a laugh. "And I heard that he has multiple wives. Can you believe it? I'm glad I could evade him and his minions so far. Which community did you say you were from again?"

"I didn't," the man stated and let the apple fall to the ground. "And you are wrong,”

This should have been your second warning.

"Wrong about what?" you asked puzzled and lowered your right hand to the knife holster on your belt.

He was looking at you like the cat that ate the canary.

"The bully asshole and his weapon. It's a baseball bat wrapped in barb wire. And he calls it Lucille."

He lowered his hand and picked up something from behind the trunk of the apple tree that was until this point hidden from you.

It was a baseball bat wrapped in barb wire.

Your heart sank into your stomach. It was him. You were chatting with no other than the leader of the Saviors. The bully asshole with the baseball bat everybody dreaded.

“You would be the leader of the Saviors?” you asked mouth agape not being able to hide your horror.

“Uh-huh. Negan, Lucille.” He pointed at his chest and then held out the baseball bat in front of him as if introducing her to you. “And you, Little Red?”

“Y/N,” you mumbled nervously. You called him a bully, an asshole and his bat name silly. You were in trouble and were frantically trying to think of a way out of it.

“That is a beautiful name. Are you on your own out here?” the man continued, taking a step closer to you. You could hear an apple burst under his boot.

“Uhm…actually no. My friends are...just on the other side of the clearing. They should be here…any minute, you know,” you replied gulping hard, trying to sound confident, but your body betrayed you, forcing you to take a step back instinctively. Your answer earned a snicker from Negan.

“Any minute, you say?”

“Yeah, we’re out on a run together, you know. About 10-15 of us. It’s a large group. They were right behind me and don’t take well to strangers so I think you should go before…”

“Before?”

“Uhm, you know, before they come back. I wouldn’t want them to hurt you.”

He let out a throaty chuckle exposing your dishonesty.

“Nice try. But I think you’re just lying to me now. So, care to explain why you were trying to steal my apples?”

"Your apples?"

"This land is mine. The trees on it are mine, therefore the apples are also mine. And I do not take lightly to thieves.”

If your list of crimes wasn’t long enough, you have just added theft to it.

“And how the hell was I supposed to know that?” you insisted getting impatient with his taunting.

“Theft is theft, no matter the excuse. You were going to steal my apples and I can’t let something like that slide.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see your name tag on them,” you quipped getting fed up with his cockiness.

If he thought that you were going to cave in just because he claimed to be the owner of the trees, he was in for a big surprise. As far as you were concerned, the apples belonged to whoever picked them first.

“Don’t smart mouth me, Little Red,” he growled tightening his grip on his baseball bat. “You better watch your mouth or I will not go easy on you.”

“Oh. I’m pissing my pants already,” you mocked, rolling your eyes at him. His arrogance was starting to get on your nerves and you were adamant not to let him intimidate you.

“Oh, believe me, you will be, if you keep sassing me,” he warned his lips tightening into a thin line. His ice-cold stare left no doubt in you that he meant what he said. “I know how to teach a little brat like you a lesson. And when I’m done with you, I can promise you that you will be much more obedient.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you challenged him with a defiant look.

“Careful what you wish for,” he scowled darkly not pleased with your response.

You shouldn’t have been testing him, but your stubbornness got the better of you. No man no matter how brutal of a leader he was rumored to be was going to mess with you. Negan’s eyes were dark with anger and you could practically see steam coming out from his ears.

“You tried to steal the apples. That’s a statutory offense under Georgia law. These apple trees are mine, therefore, I'm entitled to fair payment for them. Or, if you can’t pay, to an appropriate form of punishment. So what's it gonna be? Payment or punishment?"

You thought about the short list of valuables you had on you. Besides the necklace on your neck, a lucky charm tucked away in your pocket and the knife in your sheath nothing of substantial value and you were not going to lead him back to your community.

"I don't really have anything with me right now but I can go back to my base and get you something. I have some supplies that I can give you, food, medicine, tools, even some ammo. I’m sure we can make a deal," you offered hoping that he would take the bait. The moment he let you go you would bolt and never come back.

"Oh, no doubt about it. But no, I want my payment up front. Or...there may be another way," he offered with a twinkle in his eye.

You eyed him suspiciously. He was too excited about his own idea.

“You can pay your debt in kind. Come back with me to my place and bake me a pie from these apples. Easy peasy."

“It sounds like a good deal,” you started as if giving the idea some serious thought. “But if you want an apple pie, I suggest you start picking the apples for it because these are mine and I’m sure as shit not giving them up to you!”

Negan let out a loud laugh.

“You’re a wild one, aren’t you, Little Red? I love that! But I'm afraid that leaves you with a single option: to take your punishment like a good girl."

“I think not. Sorry, but I have somewhere to be.”

You looked behind your back trying to calculate the fastest escape route into the forest. If you reached the trees, there was no way he could get you. But the apples could be a problem. You had no intention of giving up the spoils but their weight was substantial now meaning that they would definitely slow you down.

Negan seemed to have read your mind immediately.

“Don't even think about running from me. I'll catch you and punish you anyway. Don't make matters worse for you," he threatened.

"You seem a little old to outrun me, don't you?" you asked playfully.

Negan, however, did not seem to appreciate your humor as the smug smile disappeared from his face immediately and his mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Run from me if you dare and then you'll find out. But if I catch you I'll give you a taste of what I mean by punishment. And it will be a big gulp that you might find difficult to swallow. But swallow it you most certainly motherfucking will.” His nostrils were practically flaring at this point.

You held his gaze for a moment before giving him a conspiratorial wink.

“Game on, Big Bad.”

You sprinted as fast as you could towards the forest hoping that you would reach the trees before he caught up with you. But luck was not on your side today. You have barely managed to reach the middle of the field when you felt a strong hand grab your left arm and pull you back roughly. You didn’t even have time to marvel at how fast he could catch up to you.

"Let me go, I haven't done anything,” you protested, but Negan was holding you firmly against his chest. “Fine, I will give you back the apples!” you huffed in defeat.

“Too late for that, Little Red,” he hissed. “Now is the time for your punishment. You are coming with me.”

And with that, he dragged you away towards the forest before you could put up a fight.

The kitchen of the Sanctuary was a mess. The apples scattered all over the floor, the bag of flour knocked over, the bottle of milk spilled on the kitchen counter. But you were a mess too. A hot, sweaty, wet mess lying over the kitchen counter, your legs spread open wide, panting and moaning as Negan was eating you out greedily.

He kept his word and took you back to the Sanctuary straight away. Upon arriving at the vast factory he led you to the kitchen and instructed the chef to gather all the ingredients for an apple pie. You had no idea how they managed to compile such an impressive pantry but within five minutes the kitchen counter was full of with everything you needed and all of it was fresh and of the finest quality. Negan had dismissed the entire kitchen staff ordering that the two of you mustn’t be disturbed even if walkers were roaming the halls.

You started measuring out the ingredients but didn’t get past the flour. You couldn’t stop talking back to Negan as he kept hovering over you insisting that he wanted to oversee your baking and commenting on every step of the process. Fed up with his overbearing behavior you threw the bag of flour down on the counter effectively engulfing the both of you in a cloud of white powder. Negan looked like he was going to murder you right there but then found another way to shut you up. Before you had time to protest he had you pinned against the counter and was kissing your lips roughly effectively taking your breath along with every cheeky remark you had in store for him away. One thing led to another and before you knew it Negan had you lying naked with your legs over his shoulders, lapping up your juices with his tongue.

Negan definitely had a way with words but the way he used his tongue on you was like nothing you had ever felt before. Keeping his hands firmly on your inner thighs forcing your legs wide apart he licked and sucked on your most sensitive part his ministrations filling the kitchen with sinful noises. He kept his eyes fixed on you revelling in the way you arched your back up from the table completely engulfed in pleasure.

“Fuck...Negan! I’m gonna cum!” you sobbed your body on the verge of shattering into a thousand pieces.

“No, Little Red. I’m not done with you yet,” he purred with a cruel smile.

You whined out in frustration as he removed his hot tongue from your aching core effectively robbing you of your orgasm. Desperate for release, you lowered your right hand to your pussy and started rubbing your clit but a sharp slap on your ass made you stop and cry out loud.

“I said, not yet, Little Red!” Negan grunted and grabbed your wrists forcefully pinning them down on the counter next to your body. “Behave or I will jack myself off and leave you with nothing.”

A pitiful whine escaped your lips in protest earning an amused look from Negan.

“Beg for it. Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he commanded making your insides coil.

“Fuck me, Negan. Please fuck my pussy,” you pleaded looking up at him with a wanton look in your eyes.

“Look at you, Little Red, being so good and obedient for me. I think you deserve a reward for that.”

He stood up and pulled his hard cock from his pants. He stroked his dick a couple of times spreading the pre-cum over his shaft before positioning himself at your dripping entrance.

“Oh my, Big Bad, what big cock you have!” you moaned watching his impressive length in rapture.

“The better to fuck you with, my dear,” he replied with a toothy grin and then entered you painfully slowly, taking his time.

You moaned out loud at the exquisite feeling of him pushing inside you inch by inch and stretching your walls, your tightness making him grunt in pleasure. Once he was fully buried inside you, he started to move picking up speed with every thrust as he was fucking you on the counter with deep, hard strokes. Your breasts were bouncing wildly along with his movements and you raised your hips to meet his, digging your nails into his back.

“Look at you, Little Red. Taking my big, fat cock like a good girl,” Negan praised as he placed his gloved hand around your throat.

In your lustful haze, you barely registered the meaning of his words as he brought you closer to the climax he had denied you earlier. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot with surgical precision.

“Keep your eyes open and look at me while I fuck you,” Negan husked in your ear and tightened his grip on your throat when you didn’t follow his order instantly.

You reluctantly obeyed him and looked into his dilated pupils that felt like being sucked into a dark vortex. You would have resisted if you had the willpower but in that moment you had every intention of falling right into the abyss and letting it consume you.

You could feel yourself starting to tighten in sync with Negan’s thrusts getting erratic signaling that he was getting close himself.

“Cum for me, Little Red. Cum on my cock!” he growled and you did as you were told, pulsing around his length and spiraling into a mind-blowing orgasm that seemed to go on without end. Black spots clouded your vision as you felt Negan start to throb and shoot hot spurts of cum inside your walls while yelling a series of expletives under his breath. He kept thrusting into you, riding out his orgasm until he was completely spent.

Trying to catch his breath Negan rested on his elbows next to your body but left his softening member still inside you. Your legs felt like jelly and tangled off the cold metal surface sending goosebumps over your sweat-covered skin.

“So...Big Bad. Was this my payment or punishment?” you managed to say between breaths.

“Both, Little Red. This was my way to fuck some obedience into you,” Negan murmured wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

“And you think it worked?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes with feigned innocence but Negan could see right through your game.

“Oh, I hope it didn’t,” he rasped poking his tongue between his teeth. “Because I’m pretty unrelenting when it comes to teaching a lesson and I intend on fucking it into you over and over again to make sure that you remember it.”

The prospect seemed remarkably appealing to you.

Negan stood up and carefully removed himself from you. You winced at the loss of contact and the soreness between your legs. He looked down at you watching mesmerized as his cum started dripping out of you onto the counter adding to the mess that was covering it already as a result of your food fight earlier.

“Fucking hell, if that ain’t a cock-hardening sight, your pussy filled to the brim with my cum.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark but liked the obscenity of it nonetheless.

“So does that make us even or do I still owe you that apple pie?” you inquired biting your lower lip.

He gave you a devilish look before answering.

“No need for that, Little Red. Your cream pie was delicious enough already.”

#fall into negan writing challenge #negan #negan fan fiction #negan fiction #twd #the walking dead #twd negan #twd fan fiction #twd fiction #the walking dead fan fiction #the walking dead fiction #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #negan's network #negan's thirst squad #my shit

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starboyholland · 7 years

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Therapy - Harry Holland One Shot

Requested: No

Rating: PG-13 for idk cursing, drinking, that kinda stuff idk this isn't too rough :)

Summary: You and Harry have been rivals for as long as you can both remember. Last week, the two of you fucked and you can’t get him out of your head. Now, the two of you are at the same, crazy party, and you just can’t seem to avoid each other. (Inspired by ‘Therapy’ by Khalid).

A/N: ‘Y/L/N’ stands for ‘your last name’ just for clarification.

Happy reading!

“Something that you’re doing has me falling all the way”

Harry had been staring at you all night. He’d been staring at you since seventh fucking grade, actually. His staring had been what initiated your feud. He had been caught off guard by the pretty, smart, witty girl who sat three seats down from him in his seventh grade English class with the droning teacher. One day you’d caught him looking at you for what had felt like the billionth time, so you had leaned forward so the two of your eyes locked, unobstructed by the people sitting in desks between you. “Maybe you should take a picture, it would last a while longer,” you had questioned, the words had flown straight from your lips and bitten into him, he had recoiled as if he had been punched. The only way he could think to respond was more violently than he’d intended.

“Of you? In your dreams, YLN.”

He had spat the words with a tone much more harsh than the one you’d employed and he still remembered how you’d frowned slightly before making sure the teacher wasn't paying attention before spitting out the words, “then fuck off, Holland.” Ever since, the two of you had a rivalry the entire school knew about, that neither of you made any effort to hide.

But then last week had happened. Last week with a club meeting that had ended up in a way so unexpected that you could barely convince yourself it had happened. But you knew it had, of course, as after it’d happened, Harry had grown only colder towards you, his comments carrying more of a sting than usual. You couldn’t tell if you were just extra sensitive, or if something had changed, or both.

But now, it had been exactly a week, and you were both at the school football game. Both of you there to photograph the student section and the game. You and Harry had shared your usual un-pleasantries as you worked, both of you in the school photography club, and the best photographers for the yearbook staff. Harry had bumped into you as you were in the middle of taking a photo and you reprimanded him sharply for blurring the picture you had been so excited to take.

“God, Holland, there’s an entire stadium around here and you decided to walk right where I am?” you’d rolled your eyes and brought up the blurred photograph on your camera screen, doing your best not to show your surprise that the picture actually looked good, as though it had been blurred on purpose.

“Get a grip, YLN, like I would want to get any closer to you than I have to,” he had scoffed. “I probably made the picture, better, anyhow, y’should be thanking me,” he had then turned and walked away, leaving you alone beneath the bright lights of the field to take your pictures.

You tried to convince yourself that you didn't miss the company. You tried even harder to convince yourself that you even remembered why you and Harry hated each other so much.

Your school team won the game, the student section had gone ballistic and shortly after, everyone had piled into cars and headed to a party to celebrate your team’s win. Your friends had convinced you to go, and before you knew it, you found yourself with a red plastic cup in your hands and your bones shaking from the volume of the music that pounded like a pulse in the house.

You were a light-weight, you knew that from the first sip you’d taken that night, not used to the burn and buzz of the alcohol everyone else around you seemed to be tolerating so well. You were so drunk that you saw two Harry’s instead of one staring t you from the other side of the dim room.

“I’m tripping off your love and all the other drugs we’re taking”

At this point, you had injested just the right amount of Jello-shots to make your away across the crowded basement, rolling up your sweater sleeves and walking right up to harry, so close that your chests nearly touched. His friends noticed you immediately and didn't wait to begin giving the two of you some space. Harry smirked at you, crossing his arms, smirking at you. You could tell your face was flushed slightly, partially from the alcohol and partially from the heat of being in a crowded room in your thick sweater

You didn’t really process the image before you, you didn’t notice that Harry’s eyes were red, or that he slightly swayed on his feet unintentionally.

“I don't mean to come off aggressive”

“Why do ya keep starin’ at me, Holland? Hm?” you inquired, poking your finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion. He said nothing, only continued to smirk. “You’ve been mean t’ me all week,” The alcohol that had settled deep in your veins now pushed you on, causing you to step even closer, Harry didn’t back away in the slightest and now your chests were touching, not a measurable space between the two of you.

“Have’nt been this close since they made us dance for gym in eight grade,” Harry teased. “Sure you savored that moment,” you quipped back.

“Why d’ya hate, me, Holland?” you questioned more quietly now, your mood swinging wildly with the alcohol in your veins. Harry’s smirk faltered as you continued. “’S there somethin’ wrong with me? Why are ya always starin’?” now you were pushing slightly on his chest with both hands.

“You fuckin’ had sex with me, like, a week ago, and you’re actin’ like it never happened, was it that bad? Do you despise me, or somethin’? What did I do-” Your voice was hushed but growing louder with emotion.

Before you could continue, Harry’s hands rested on your forearms, holding you steady and silencing you at the same time. You wished that you could self-regulate your actions, but at the moment you didn’t mind because Harry’s touch was a nice kind of warm.

“No, ‘f course there’s nothin’ wrong with ya, YN, you’re the most goddamn perfect person I know,” he admitted quietly, his hands dropping to his sides before he made the bold decision to grab one of your hands in his own. “Let’s go out there,” he said, weakly pointing towards the door that led to a patio. His hands were clammy and slightly shaky in your own, you hadn’t stopped to consider that he was nervous. You hadn’t thought until now that Harry was just as gone as you were, his eyes were pink and so were his cheeks.

The two of you found your way to the empty patio that sat above the large backyard of the house, lots of your classmates mingling around below where you sat, walking around the lawn on legs that made them look as stable as new-born deer.

Harry found a chair around an empty patio table and you sat in a chair across from him, trying to get comfortable as you felt yourself growing more and more sober, the buzz you’d felt earlier beginning to ebb away now that you’d realized what you had done. You’d just made it very clear that you cared more than you’d previously let on to Harry, just as your friends had told you to do for years now. You’d always told them you never would, but you supposed that was now a lie.

“I’m just here to pass off the message”

“So,” Harry began, trying to think of what he wanted to say and how he could possibly say it sounding more put together than he really was.

“So,” you repeated quietly, playing with the sleeves of your sweater, thankful for the light breeze that whispered throughout the backyard, the music in the house seeming more like background noise now through the closed patio doors.

“Why is it so hard to talk to you when I’ve seen you naked- I’ve fucked you, for fucks sake, and I can’t even talk to you,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and leaning heavily back in his chair. His feet slid forward just enough to tap against yours at the movement and you winced as though the slight contact could somehow do you harm.

Harry cringed internally at the fact that the unexpected touch made you recoil so obviously. “I don’t hate you,” he spoke out loud, looking up from his hands that were sat in his lap, his fingers tangling and untangling themselves.

You nodded. “I don’t hate you either, don't even know why we have this whole rivalry thing goin’ on, if I'm honest,” you spoke, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips as you looked up to meet Harry’s eyes.

He wished he could express how wild you drove him. Not wild in a way that made him want to beat you at everything the two of you competed at, not the kind of wild that had the two of you shooting comebacks at each other constantly.

No, something about you- everything about you, drove him the kind of wild that made him search up your social media pages and tiptoe around the ‘like’ buttons to fawn over you. The kind of wild that made him want to bring you up at every possible moment, the kind of wild that made his friends sick of hearing about what you were up to. Everyone assumed that it was the rivalry, that his actions were driven by spite but they were wrong, his actions involving you were, and always had, (even since that day in seventh grade) been driven by his feelings for you. Harry Holland had a crush on you. He had since he met you in middle school and some- if not most days, he was convinced he always would.

So when you looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, and your smile that made him think of stars. Your mannerisms that had made him look up your compatibility according to astrology websites more than he would ever admit.

It had been worse since the two of you had found yourselves kissing in a back hallway after photography club, with nobody around to see. That had ended up with you on top of him in the back seat of his car in what he was sure was the best moment of his life. The two of you had dressed and acted as though nothing had happened. He couldn't get your face, your touch, your taste from his head. He couldn’t stop thinking of how your voice had sounded calling his name as your head was thrown back in his car.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” was all he said.

“Then it’s probably good that we’re talking,” you replied with a small smile.

“I need your therapy”

Harry nodded, he had never needed to talk to somebody so bad in his life, he wondered if this was what having a shrink was like. Probably not, he decided quickly.

“I think I have a crush on you.” You blurted out, you clapped your hand over your mouth for a second before dropping it helplessly at your side, shutting your eyes in disbelief that your self control had dwindled down so much that you had allowed yourself to become so vulnerable.

Harry, on the other hand, had never felt so relieved, so light, so elated in his life. He felt like the sparks that shot out of a dying star, he felt like the rays of sun that warmed the earth, like a firework, he felt like the human embodiment of a lightbulb, a hot air balloon, a candle, a lightning bug, a fireplace,the first rainbow. Harry felt like love poetry and the like the music that pounded in the house. He couldn’t hold back the smile that spread from one side of his face to the other.

“Great, now you’re never goin’ t’ let that one go, might as well start to transfer out of our school now, you’ll probably spread that around like wildfire-” You sighed, pulling one of your legs close to your chest. Harry had never shook his head faster in his life.

“I hope I made the impression that I was always interested, all the feelings I kept in”

“No, listen, I like you too, have for like, forever,”

“couldn’t have liked me for forever, Holland, only ‘ve known ya since year seven,” you quipped, wishing you could suck the words back into your mouth. “Sorry,” you spoke quickly. “old habits die hard, I guess,” you spoke quietly, kicking yourself internally for ruining the mood. Harry laughed a little bit, his eyes crinkling.

“No, ‘s okay, I think you’re funny, ‘s been hard not to laugh at the funny things you say all this time,” he admitted slightly sheepishly. You couldn’t hide your disbelief. “Really?” You inquired, your brows furrowing. Harry nodded his head to indicate ‘yes’.

“said I liked ya, didn’t I?” He grinned, his lips falling slightly as he continued to talk. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a real ass t’ you, especially this week. I tried to tell you one time, several times actually, but I could never get it out. Been tryin’ since like, fucking year seven,” He laughed at himself and you tried to process what he told you, taking the adorable sentiment to heart and letting it warm you from the inside out for a moment before returning sharply to the reality of the situation.

“So what should we do? Whatever you want to”

“So what do we do with this? Like, where do we go from here?” You questioned, finally giving voice to your uncertainty. Harry shrugged. Without thinking, you ascended from your seat, rarely letting your eyes leave Harry’s.

You realized, now that you allowed yourself to freely think about Harry, that after the last 5 years of constantly competing, the two of you had learned quite a bit about each other. You knew the face he made when your jokes were no longer funny and he could no longer continue banter, you knew the music and movies and books and classes he liked, you’d learned what he wanted to do for a living nd what his family was like, you realized that you and Harry were more well-acquainted than anyone, even the two of you, would give yourselves credit for.

You walked around the table and within a few quick steps you were upon him again, the two of you connecting as though you had been lovers for years, and not a few days.

You had managed to get one leg on either side of his lap, similar to how the two of you had been in his car, but Harry broke from the kiss long enough to slow you down. “Wait, wait, don’t want t’ have you like this, want to be able to remember every moment in the morning, don't want to take advantage of ya, as bad as I want ya right now, believe me I do,” He spoke quickly, pressing kisses to the side of your face lightly and your neck in between his words. You leaned forward into him, your tiredness catching up to you unexpectedly. The shots you’d taken earlier working against whatever energy you had left.

“I’m not the type for relationships, it’s overrated”

“Are we just going to keep doing this? Just keep this, whatever it is a secret, and not put any labels on it?” You asked, trying to keep your expectations as low as possible to avoid getting hurt tonight by the boy who had come to mean so much to you. You’d heard him say in passing before more than once that he didn't see himself as “a relationship kind of guy.” That was part of what made you leave his car so quickly after you’d finished, pulling your clothes back on and pulling your hair up as quickly as you could, grabbing your backpack from his floor-mats and trying to look normal walking away on slightly shaky legs, forcing yourself not to look back.

“We could still be lovers, that’s all I’m saying”

“Do you want more?” He asked, his hand running encouragingly up and down your spine, the fabric of your sweater making him feel even more at home with you pressed close to him.

“I just know you’ve said you aren’t a relationship kind of guy, so we could still be like, lovers, or something-” your words came out slow but quickly sped up as your nerves increased, worried about saying the wrong combination of words that could send Harry flying away from any form of commitment that was too much in his eyes.

“Whoa, whoa, love, I’m not goin’ anywhere, don’t worry,” he said, and you could hear the slight smile in his voice. You nodded slightly, your face against his chest.

“What do you want?” You questioned, letting on of your hands play with his hair, he hummed quietly at your touch. “I want you,” he finally replied and this made you perk your head up and change your position slightly so the two of you were face to face again. “Meaning what?” You asked, your noses almost touching.

“Meaning,” he paused for a second to think. “I would be a relationship kind of guy with the right person, and I like you, and tell me if I’m wrong, but I think you might like me a bit,” his voice sincere, only carrying the familiar teasing tome towards the end.

“ You’re not wrong,” you assured with a smile, resting your forehead against his lightly, Harry’s hands around your waist.

“Well, YN,” His lips turning up into a smile. “Think that we’re ready to call a truce?”

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laptopdreamsinsingapore-blog · 5 years

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Buy Laptop Singapore - What to Know, and What to Look For

It's that time of year again. The summer is winding to a close and that means colder weather, leaves changing their color and schools everywhere are about to open their doors. One thing that a lot of parents (and students) are dreading is that school's are beginning to require their students own laptops to use in their classes. But fear not, for I have compiled a guide that will make you buy laptop Singapore much easier. And if you're not going to school this fall, this guide should still assist you in your quest for a business or personal laptop for yourself or someone in need this holiday season.

Why are you buying a new Laptop?

Maybe you're one of the parents looking to find a laptop for their child to take to school this year, or perhaps you're looking for a system that will give you a new edge at the office. The reason you are buying your laptop is going to determine what you're going to need out of the new system. If your laptop is going to be using Computer Animated Design software for example, you're going to want a more powerful processor than if you're merely using it for Word Processing or Internet based research. Are you a hardcore gamer? Do you like editing photos or creating videos? Are you a musician looking to get some better exposure? It may be best for you to jot down every possible scenario you could see yourself using the laptop before you read the next section of the guide, to be sure you're getting everything you need out of the system.

Laptops come in all shapes and sizes.

Size does matter.

This is a feature that a lot of people overlook when buying a laptop, but the size and physical features of the laptop are arguably one of the most important. Where the processor, amount of ram, and hard drive can be upgraded and replaced as needed, features like the size of the laptop, the placement of its various input/output ports and it's weight are all things that you're realistically going to be stuck with after your purchase it. Some things to ask yourself are:

How large of a screen am I going to need?

Am I going to be carrying this laptop around a lot?

How many peripherals are going to be attached to the laptop?

Am I going to miss not having the NUMPAD on my keyboard?

The size of the screen is going to directly affect the size of the laptop, so this question is important. If you are buying this laptop to edit photos, create videos, play games or watch movies and television then you'll likely want a large screen. Keep in mind that large screen laptops are heavier, and therefor if you're going to be crossing a large campus on a daily basis you'll need to consider that as well. The number of peripherals you'll be attaching to the laptop also helps narrow down what you'll be using it for. The most important consideration is the number of USB ports you'll have, as most accessories and devices connect to a laptop using these ports. A printer that isn't wireless, a drawing tablet, a wired or wireless mouse and a USB storage drive are all examples of devices that connect via USB. If you intend on connecting your laptop up to a monitor at any given time you'll want to consider the Output connection on the laptop as well. Finally, one of the most overlooked features of a laptop is the presence or absence of the NUMPAD on the keyboard. The NUMPAD is the 16 button portion beside your arrow keys that sort of resembles a telephone. Though, it is possible to purchase a USB powered external NUMPAD for a laptop, if you're used to having one, it's best to have it attached to the laptop itself.

What makes a good Laptop?

Now that you have an idea about what you want your laptop to look like on the outside, it's time to consider what you'd like to see on the inside. If you're buying this laptop merely to use programs like Microsoft Office, an internet browser and iTunes then you're not going to need a whole lot of power from your system. Laptops on the retail market these days come equipped with Windows 7 as an operating system, and unlike their Vista counterparts a couple years back will come designed to handle running the operating system smoothly. That being said, a good benchmark to set for your system will be 4GB of RAM; preferably DDR3, A quality dual core processor (avoid the Intel Celeron series for example), and then a hard drive based off how much you plan to store on your computer. Typically hard drives from 250 - 500GB are the most commonly found on lower to mid ranged laptops, and that should be more than sufficient storage space.

If your plan is to use more intensive programs, such as Graphic Design software, Music editing software, or anything else that will create an intensive load on your system you'll want to take a closer look at your Processor. A processor that boasts dynamic performance enhancement, such as the Multithreading feature offered in the Intel i series of processors are a good choice for this. The cores of the i3-i7 processors are designed to divide tasks up into threads within each processing core, allowing your system to think it has more cores to work with, the end result being that it can force a little extra power out of your system in a pinch. Another handy feature to watch for is the size of your L2 and L3 cache. The larger the cache, the more your system is able to do without slowing itself down to access more distant memory sources, and that means quicker response times to whatever you need to access.

If you're buying this system specifically for gaming, or for High Definition multimedia or 3D modeling, you'll want to consider the Graphics Card your system will come with. For the most part, a 1GB of video memory in the graphics card should be more than powerful enough to handle whatever your needs are, but it would be wise to check the specific requirements of the game or software you're installing, and be sure that the features you need are included in the design of the card.

Finally, the battery life of the laptop could be important as well. If you plan on using the laptop in a lot of places where there are no power sources, you'll want a laptop with a longer than average battery life. And considering the average battery life of a laptop varies from 2-4 hours, this can be a very important decision for the commuting over-achiever or social butterfly.

The Hard Drive of a Laptop stores all your data.

Where to go from here?

So you've finally decided on a laptop that fits all your needs. It's the right size, has the NUMPAD on the side, doesn't weight too much and it's a sweet shade of charcoal gray. Now that you're ready to dish out on the system, it's time to consider everything else you're going to need to work at maximum efficiency.

For software, consider again what you'll be doing with your laptop. If you're ever planning to take it online by any capacity (and who isn't, these days) then you're going to want a reputable Antivirus program. One of the best right now is from a company called Kaspersky. As of this writing, it has been found to locate and quarantine/remove the largest library of malicious software of any Antivirus in the retail market. The internet security package also includes metrics to protect your personal identity online from online phishers. This can be important if you access your bank information or log into sensitive company assets over the internet.

Another must have for business and school is the Microsoft Office suite. Microsoft Office comes in many packages, and the one that is right for you depends on what you need for work. Most users will find the Home and Student offering to be enough, featuring Microsoft Word, PowerPoint, and Excel. This allows you to create professional documents and resume's, organize slide show presentations, and create powerful spreadsheets. Other popular programs included in other Office suites are Outlook, a program used to organize e-mail in ways most internet services can not, and Access, a program that can create Databases for organizing and storing information on anything from sales records to your Elvis Presley collectibles. Make sure when you're purchasing a copy of Microsoft Office that it has every program you need to be successful.

Graphic designers or photography buffs will want to get their hands on photo editing software such as Adobe Photoshop. A music producer will need a program to allow them to record, edit and store music. Gamers will need to shell out for their latest digital fix, and Web Designers will likely want to purchase a license for Macromedia Flash or Adobe Dreamweaver.

What about Accessories?

So now you have a laptop and software to go with it. What else could you possibly need? Well for starters, what do you plan on carrying it in? Laptop bags come in several varieties. Slipcases for storing your system in a backpack or briefcase, messenger bags for carrying your laptop and a couple needed accessories, and larger briefcase style bags to carry your laptop along with work materials. They come in all sizes to accommodate a laptop of any size, so be sure the bag you're buying will hold the 17" wide screen your purchased.

Another accessory to add to your list is a wireless mouse. Most people (myself included) do not like the touch pad that comes with your laptop, so by plugging in a receiver into a USB port of your laptop you can replace that dodgy pad with a traditional mouse, AND you don't have to untangle 4 feet of wire first, either. Other input peripherals include a NUMPAD if your laptop keyboard doesn't have one, or a Tablet for sketching or signing documents.

If you plan on listening to a lot of music, voice chatting, or even just taking verbal notes for your to do list, you may want to consider purchasing a USB Headphone/Microphone combination. If you want to add video conferencing, or creating video blogs to that list you'll want to purchase a web camera as well. (keep in mind that many laptops come with a camera and/or mic built into the screen). If you're storing a large amount of data, or storing sensitive data you can't afford to lose, invest in an external hard drive. They store at least as much data as your laptop and can even back up your entire system on a scheduled basis. Plus, they're simple to install and can even be portable, to take with you wherever you go.

If you're going to be printing a lot and working in different areas of the house, a wireless printer is a good addition to any laptop purchase. They're no longer more expensive than their wired counterparts, and the added range and flexibility more than make up for the money spent. Make sure you weigh the cost of the printer with the cost and yield of it's ink cartridges. Typically the cheaper the printer, the costlier the ink to sustain it.

Finally, if you're not yet wireless at your home, there's no better time than now. Your laptop will come with a wireless adapter built right into it, so all you'll need to pick up is a Wireless Router. For the cost of technology, spend the extra $10 or so dollars and opt for a Wireless N system. It has a faster wireless download speed and a much larger signal range, allowing you to update your Facebook status from the bedroom, or destroy your best friends Town Hall from the comfort of your lawn chair. Keep in mind that just about any wireless router you purchase comes with at least 4 Ethernet ports so your wired desktop and/or gaming consoles can still be connected to the network as well.

Most of your accessories will connect to your laptop using a USB connection.

The Router Goes Where?

So now you've finally made your big shopping list of everything you're going to need to get back to school in style this year, and looking at the list you're starting to wonder how you're going to get it all installed, set up and be ready in time for the start of your classes. It's time for you to consider the last step of buying a new system...

Any retailers worth their salt can offer you assistance in setting up a new laptop. They'll power it on, install your hardware titles, install your printer's drivers and in some cases they can even go as far as driving to your home and setting up your wireless network. If the idea of configuring your home computer, new laptop, Xbox 360 and Ipod Touch to a single network frightens you, it may save you hours of frustration to pay and have it all professional installed and configured.

One last thing to consider as well is protecting your investment. If you're starting from scratch, you're likely spending close to a thousand dollars on your new set up, and in some cases even more than that. And though the idea of adding another expense to the already daunting list you're prepared to shell out may seem like a bad idea, the next consideration can literally save your butt in a pinch. What I'm talking about is the dreaded Extended Service Plan. Unfortunately I think that used car salesman and and commission based Electronic stores have given ESP's a bad rap. The Extended Service Plan actually exists to protect your investment from the limited warranty provided from the major electronic manufacturers.

The One Year Limited Warranty provided from companies like HP or Dell cover manufacturer's defects only. Meaning that unless the issue can be traced directly to being a flaw in the manufacturing of the product, HP or Dell will deny you any assistance or monetary compensation for the system. And believe me, they will do anything to convince you that they didn't mess up. What does that mean for you? Well, without assistance from an Extended Warranty, odds are good that you're stuck with that laptop with the dead hard drive and faulty screen.

The extended warranty however, will protect your Laptop against any and all damages and defects incurred during the life of the warranty, typically between 2-4 years. This means that if a year and a half down the road the cheap hard drive that HP placed in your laptop dies out, you can call the company that you purchased your warranty from and either get your laptop repaired, get it replaced, or get your money back (less the money spent purchasing the warranty). And in most cases, the cost of the warranty is less than even the cost of buying the replacement part, let alone the cost to have it replaced.

I hope this guide has been helpful in assisting you in purchasing not only a new laptop, but everything that you'll need to go with it. I spent a lot of time writing this from first hand knowledge, and any feedback you can provide will be most appreciated. Happy hunting, and I'll see you online!

#buy laptop singapore

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allykat4416 · 7 years

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The Punch Heard ‘Round the World

So @tigresjumeaux and I wrote some Stengel Sisters the other night and it hurt a lot. She wrote Rory and I wrote Milan. Enjoy! Heads up, as always, for language and flashbacks to abuse.

She was riding high, and she wasn’t sure if if her instincts just letting her know she was on fucking point tonight, but she felt like she’d taken enough uppers to fuel a damn Kentucky racehorse. She was close to quivering, and she bounced her foot to move something. If she kept all that energy pent-up, she was afraid she was going to explode. When the car pulled up to the entrance gates of Luna Park, she pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and smirked.

It wasn’t totally unfamiliar, but it was definitely idiopathic as hell. But Milan Stengel did not give a damn where it was coming from, she just loved the thrill. She wasn’t afraid of Clark, and hell, she wasn’t even scared of the new girl. Logically, she shouldn’t be. Nobody placed first the first year. She hadn’t even done that, and if she couldn’t? Nobody could.

There was a twinge of nerves still, somewhere deep in the pit of what she assumed was her heart. She liked to pretend it didn’t exist anymore. Milan could hear Rowan telling Remus and Gabriela that this was Coney Island, some place deep and significant to their history. It was painfully boring, so she pointedly coughed and pointed for Blue Streak to turn up the radio.

“But we’re almost there, we’re just going to have to find a place to park this thing, and-”

“I don’t give a damn. Turn it up.”

“But we’re-”

“Up.”

And then Jay-Z’s rhythmic rapping filled the car, boasting about the Big Apple. She could see Talia rolling her eyes and shaking her head at her, and Milan could only smile. She wanted to say something, but she was so damn up right now that she could very easily lash out. Talia...as much as it sickened her to admit, didn’t deserve to get clawed. So when she opened her mouth, it was only to follow along with Alicia Keys.

Let’s hear it for New York, New York, New York!

“You’re not slick,” Maverick huffed as the car parked.

“And you aren’t shit, Maddie-Jo, shut the fuck up,” She simply quipped, throwing the door open and grandly stepping out. Her expression melted from something vicious and derisive to beatific and beckoning in record time, hand that was clenched into a fist opening up to a wave. God, she loved being up like this. The flashbulbs seemed brighter, the air seemed colder, and everything felt so much more.

She could ignore her sister for exactly 364 days a year (365 during those beloved leap years) at most during a good year where she could convince herself not to pick up that damn phone. Charlotte’s arrival had made that a hell of a lot easier, bless that tiny, memeing redhead. Kings Dominion had elected to carpool with Carowinds this year, for whatever reason - Rory suspected Charlotte had more than a little to do with it - so rather than a cramped car, the combined crowd of coasters enjoyed a damn nice Charter bus. It was certainly more comfortable, and she could ride free of worries about seat belts snagging in her satiny burgundy dress. Charlotte had seated herself directly next to her, and Timmy was half asleep in the seat behind them, headphones in, expression surly, and legs stretched out across the seat next to him.

When they had crossed the state line into New York, even Charlotte’s loud and shrill rendition of “New York, New York,” couldn’t tear her mind off of the fact that today was, in fact, the one day of the year she absolutely could not ignore her sister. Milan had a knack for taking advantage of the proximity to terrorize her, so the inevitable win for Millennium Force was so much sweeter. That was on top of the fucking photographers - oh, the photographers! Always wanted to see the reigning queen of coasters taking a happy picture with her rough-and-tumble sister, and of course a group photo of the gigas. She wondered if they’d focus of Lottie or Milan this year, as they were both inevitable winners…

She scoffed aloud at the thought and desperately hoped that Clark had a damn good year - maybe that clingy asshole could pull the rug out from under her. Who’d be laughing then, bitch?

Oh, God, everything was so bright. The reception halls were a muted gray, but even those seemed more vibrant than they admittedly probably were. For the briefest moment, she regretted wearing heels; this heightened sensitivity to everything didn’t exclude the things that made her feel bad, and there was the slightest pinching around her tiniest toes. She was sure she’d be feeling horrid by the end of the night, at least in her feet.

Everything else, however, she intended to feel just fine.

Milan could make out some vaguely familiar faces in the crowd, she was fairly sure she saw Kara talking with some other people from her new home in Dorney Park. God, Kara had been kicked from pillar to post. She wasn’t special, Kara was easily replaced, in a park that had been easily replaced. It was hilarious, in a way, to Milan; both of them had been sent to Ohio in 2000, and Kara had failed so spectacularly. Milan made sure that she would hunt for her face in the crowd when she accepted her award tonight.

Ugh, and there was Steel Dragon 2000. She had half a mind to go over and gloat to Satoshi for riding her coattails and then fizzling out into obscurity (where he, of course, belonged.) Clark wasn’t here yet, but she knew he was always an easy punching bag. She just wanted to fight, to rip into some people and be passive aggressive and ride this feeling of espresso mainlined into her veins for as long as it lasted.

And when she turned around, she burst out into a near witchy cackle.

There was nothing in this world that Milan loved more than taking the absolute piss out of Isabel Aurora Stengel. It warmed her soul, what little bit of it she figured she may have had left, to see her buddied up with the new redhead. It’s like the universe reached down and gave me a gift on a silver fuckin’ platter! So she moved toward them with purpose, chin high and spine straightened. Her ears were ringing, and any joy she had felt was lilliputian compared to the sheer giddiness of seeing Intimidator 305 and Fury 325 walking in together.

“Well,” She drawled, her voice pitching up and her lips curling into a smile. “Look here. My two least favorite people in this whole wide wicked world.”

Rory’s heart sank when she saw Blue Streak’s car parked in a reserved space, front and center in front of the reception halls. There go any hopes of getting settled. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from making some snide, pessimistic comment if only to avoid ruining Charlotte’s buzzing excitement. She threw on her aviators before exiting the bus, if only to dim the incessant flashes of light that came with walking in. Thankfully, she wasn’t the center of attention this time - normally the photographers were all about the biggest coaster at Kings Dominion, the second Stengel, and Rory was so not about that shit. She looped her arm through Fury’s as they made their way in, offering waves and an occasional half-hearted smile when prompted by her companion, who was nearly prancing down the walk with excitement. Or nerves. She wouldn’t put either past Charlotte.

The main hall was silvery-toned and warmly lit, with thankfully short maroon carpet and white-draped tables. She was greeted with the sounds of raucous laughter from the corner - sure enough, there was the gaggle of Jersey boys, with Wren and Davey off to the side. She had to smile at that; those idiots could make anything fun. Even--

The tightening of Lottie’s hand around her arm confirmed it, and Rory sighed, reluctant to look up. Even being in the same room as my sister. The color had drained from Lottie’s face, and Rory gritted her teeth, set her jaw, and looked up with defiance already burning under her skin.

Sure enough, there she was, striding toward them as though she owned the place. She’d offered some sort of demeaning, self-entitled greeting that Rory was too angry to hear, and Rory jutted her chin out, stepping forward in a small, unconscious effort to put herself between Force and Fury. Because Lord knows she’s going to fucking try to make friends or some shit. And I want to fucking fight.

“Ay, world’s best coaster and world’s worst person. How d’ya do, you fucking bitch?” She couldn’t help but to bare her teeth in a clenched smile, her voice a blatant snarl. “Cameras are on us Stengels and the new chick, so act natural!”

Milan snorted, rolling her eyes. Her fingertips felt numb now, and she hoped that if Rory could see her shaking, she knew it was because she was ready to knock her damn lights out. “I’m doing delightful, sister dearest. Certainly better than you, but that’s par for the course. I’m always doing better than you, aren’t I?” Auric eyes flitted up to the stage. “How funny that someone who shares my name can only crack the Top 10 once in her lifetime. Sad, isn’t it?”

She held her sister’s fiery gaze for a moment more before slowly rolling them over to her ginger companion, and she broke into a wider grin. Rory bristled, and Charlotte...well, Charlotte had turned white as a ghost, head down and shrinking back as if she could perform some weird sort of osmosis with Rory and hide.

Damn, did Milan relish in how she visibly flinched away. She’d file that for the memory banks. If this was what she was up against? If this was the biggest and baddest that Carowinds had had to offer? Good heavens, she had this in the bag. What sort of winner would shy away from a heavyweight champ? If Charlotte was anything to fear, she would have met her eyes head-on and held her ground.

But she didn’t. Charlotte tucked her tail and ran back behind the big, bad Intimidator 305 for some weak line of defense. She had precisely nothing to fear from the teal Beemer. Of course I don’t. I’m Millennium motherfucking Force. I fear no one.

“You know, for somebody named Fury, she’s very...submissive.” She looked down the bridge of her nose disdainfully, lips twitching into a smirk she couldn’t suppress. “I can see why you’d keep her around, Isabel.”

“It’s also funny that somebody sharing a name with you could actually function socially,” she growled back. “I think that’s sadder. That our fuckin’ figurehead is someone that literally everyone hates. What fun is victory when you’re the only one who gives a flying fuck?”

If there was one thing Rory did actually envy about her sister, it was the ability to dish out venom in that cloying, smooth tone. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when Force sacrificed their staredown to turn her gaze on a tensed and cowering Charlotte, whose face was frozen in an awkward attempt at a smile with round, terrified eyes. Fuck. I should have told her to go sit down...

“It’s fun, being able to make friends without having to dig through the pile to find the ones with humiliation fetishes. No offense to Talia, of course.” She did genuinely feel bad for badmouthing Talia, even if it was to get at Milan. She did have her questions for the stratacoaster, though… “And I wouldn’t talk that way about someone bigger and badder than your sorry ass - ride the high tonight while she’s new, yeah?”

Because whether she likes it or not, she’s taking your fucking title next year. And I am going to pop bottles and laugh my ass off.

Milan could only toss her head back and laugh disdainfully. She’d had quite some time to perfect it, and she saw it now as a form of art. “Can’t I just throw it up in my baby sister’s face that she’s always going to be stuck in my shadows? And can I not remind the new girl where she sits on the totem pole, which is, FYI, way the fuck below me, thanks? It’s a free country, 305. Land of opportunity, where we can do whatever we want.”

She had absolutely zero attraction to the redhead, except for possibly her fist to Charlotte’s jaw, but she knew exactly what would eat Rory alive. So she smiled saccharinely, lifting her shoulder up in a cutesy little shrug, and narrowed her eyes at Fury. “American Dream, we can take whatever we like too.”

Rory snorted, an incredulous grin spreading across her face. “You go right the fuck ahead and flaunt your victory. If you think that’s why I hate you, why anyone hates you, then you keep on believing if it helps you sleep at night. We’re all just jealous of the high and mighty Millennium Force.” Her hand twitched at her side when Milan went for Charlotte, and her head was nearly swimming with anger. Her feet felt rooted into the ground, braced, aching to pounce on her and strike at that face until swollen golden eyes peered out from a black and purple background.

“American Dream’s got bounds, Force.” Her voice slid back into its normal range, less of a rage-tinged screech now. “We can only take what we want when there’s something to choose from.”

She tilted her head, never breaking her gaze upon Charlotte. “I don’t know what my sadist-wannabe of a sister has done to you, or if you’re some masochist and you’re a match made in Hell, but rest assured the only beatings you’ll get from me are in the polls.”

And God, she didn’t want to think about what sort of depraved shit Rory had probably made Charlotte do behind closed doors, but if she could handle that and still be such a weak little opponent the day of? She wanted to read a book about Fury just to understand why the hell she was so damned weird, then.

“Considering Little Miss Dominatrix probably has you trained for this shit, I advise you to sit and stay, 325.” She turned back to her sister, whose face was starting to show the slightest tinge of redness across her cheekbones. “Whatever could be the matter, dear Isabel? You’re flushed. Are you getting sick?”

Rory shrugged, half-hiding her hand as it curled into a fist. God, there were so many fucking quips she could go for - from excuse me, wrong Kings Dominion coaster to an array of comments about Milan’s own sex life and the sheer irony of her comments. She knew damn well Charlotte wouldn’t say anything (but oh God, how she wished she would. Damn diplomacy and terror), so she supposed she’d fight this one alone.

“Not sick.” She brushed a bit of hair back behind her ear and damn it, she could feel her flushed skin. “Just holding back a lotta laughing. You’re one to talk about training, yeah? We all know you’re just Intamin’s little show dog, and sure, you’re pretty and all, but man did they breed one hell of a bitch.” Fuck. She failed to manage the shake in her voice, and she bit her tongue until it drew blood. Don’t let her see you crack. Don’t let her see you crack.

Milan had been waiting for that exact moment, that little quiver in 305’s voice, to step forward and rest her hand on her sister’s face, cupping her cheek and digging her nails in the skin. She tried to not think about how much it felt like looking into a mirror; the universe had one sick sense of humor to make them almost identical. “If I’m a bitch, Isabel,” She purred, so close their noses were nearly touching, “Then what in seven hells does that make something like you?”

“Oooh-kay!” Rory’s reply was shrill. “Only my little masochist is allowed to touch me like this! I’m uncomfortable.” Milan’s palms were cold and smooth, and she could count every damn ring adorning those fingers against her cheek. She locked her eyes with Milan’s, so fucking similar but there was something there in that damn Stengel gold that Rory never saw when she looked in a mirror.

Or, rather, something is missing. Like a fucking soul. “So get your hand off of me, yeah? Other people who pull this shit end up with broken noses, and I know you’re Queen Millennium and all that shit, but you ain’t an exception. Paws off, you cunt.”

“Oh, so I’m a cunt now?” Milan laughed. “I’ve been called worse by people whose opinions matter to me far more than yours ever will, Isabel,” She purred her name, like she was tasting every syllable. She stuck a bit of her tongue out, biting with a grin. She took in every last detail of her sister, how they both had a stubborn strand of raven hair that fell straight down the middle of their foreheads (and how Rory didn’t care enough about her appearance to bother fixing it), wide amber eyes lined almost as dark as her own, smooth coppery skin…

She took her hand away from Rory’s face, leaving tiny crescents upon her cheek. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get my award, get my ass kissed, and possibly maybe totally get fucked eight ways ‘til Sunday at a nice hotel in Brooklyn Heights later tonight.”

“Yes, I’m sure Talia calls you all sorts of nasty names in the bedroom, and you love every moment,” Rory replied, her eyes narrowing. “But I’d waltz my happy ass away from me before I decide I wanna do worse than name-call. Later, Force.” Thank God she’s fucking off. She knew it would cause a scene or whatever bullshit she fed herself to stop herself from punching Milan square in the jaw, but she honestly didn’t know how much longer she could go. “Have fun pretending everyone loves you and is jealous of you. Have fun pretending you’re the best and not something to be replaced by someone bigger and shinier.”

And that was all it took.

Her jaw clenched, lips pressed together in a smile so tight she could physically feel it stretching her face. She was well aware of the small crowd that had started to gather (fucking SkyRush was leaned forward like she was a child at a candy shop), but for possibly the only time in her life, the audience didn’t matter a damn bit.

“Everyone does love me, you fucking moron,” She hissed. “I don’t know what insane fucking logic you took to get that, but I’m irreplaceable.” She held her arms out, leveling the little semicircle of people around them. Her eyes fell upon a familiar blue pair that just looked tired. Of course Clark was tired. He could never handle the pressure. “ In this room, in this industry? To all of you?” Clark had let one stray tear slip out and he quickly wiped it away. She wanted to laugh.

“I am God.”

“You’re…” Rory let what Milan had said resonate, into her brain and play through a few times just to be sure she had heard what she thought she’d heard. How the all-loving fuck can anyone say that in full seriousness? What the actual FUCK?

At that point, all was forgotten - Charlotte was miles away, the room was silent (that might have been real, though), and Milan’s shit-eating, self-entitled grin was the only thing there in the room with her.

“Yeah.” It was low and hoarse with exasperation, with rage, with sheer hilarity. “God fucking awful.”

And Intimidator 305 held back no longer. She decked Milan right in that wretched, Stengel-gold cat eye.

She didn’t even register the pain until a moment after Rory’s fist had gotten very up close and personal with her face. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined that horrid little growl, or if it really had come from herself or her sister, but she knew she was clawing the second her head snapped back and lunging for Rory.

She knew she heard Jesse ask if it was Girls Gone Wild or the Golden Ticket Awards. She wanted to tell the little punkass there wasn’t any damn difference if you cared enough. Clark probably thought it was hot. Sick bastard.

She knew she’d made contact when her nails found purchase in russet skin, and she dug in for all she was worth. Her other hand grappled for Rory’s hair, reaching and trying her best to yank a good fistful. Her bones felt like they were buzzing, and the ringing in her ears was almost unbearable.

But she hadn’t grown up with strong backhands to the face before she even knew how to properly tie a shoe to just lay down and die in front of Intimidator without a fight. She knew her mouth was forming a thousand curses, and she almost bit Fury’s arm rather than Rory’s when Charlotte had reached in to pull them off each other.

She was also desperately hoping she did say “Go to Hell, Charlie.”

It had all happened very quickly. Milan had reeled back maybe a foot before pouncing like there were coiled springs in her muscles, expression wild and nails drawn like talons. Rory leapt back, grabbing Lottie’s arm and almost throwing the smaller girl behind her (in the back of her mind, she hoped she didn’t mess up her dress or hair - she knew Fury would be on stage for best new ride….) to avoid Milan’s anger. Talia had thankfully materialized out of the crowd before Milan got the chance to do anything more than grapple Rory’s arm and wrestled the other woman back, one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders.

“Really?” she spat at Rory, yanking Milan back as she practically frothed at the mouth. “Now? You couldn’t have saved this shit for after the awards?” Rory opened her mouth to retort, but caught the tinge of understanding in Talia’s eyes before they hardened and flickered down to her girlfriend, whose eye was already swelling into a shiner. Maybe now they’ll be able to tell us the fuck apart.

For a moment, this wasn’t New York. This wasn’t September 2015, but instead it was February of 2000 in a Maryland suburb. Kara and Kent were sitting, happily munching away at some fast food, playing with the plastic toys on the table top. She and Clark were looking through the window, with nothing to eat and the looming words of how only winners got to.

She was no older than 13, punched in the jaw so hard she’d fallen to the floor. She could almost feel the shoe connecting with her stomach as she struggled to draw a breath. Clark wasn’t there to save her. She doubted he would have even tried. Clark couldn’t have tried.

Her breath hitched, and a cold sheen of sweat broke out over her body. The taste of blood filled her mouth and she was suddenly acutely aware of arms- arms?- around her waist and shoulders.

Oh fuck no, someone’s touching me. I did something wrong, and here comes the punishment.

“You bitch! You don’t fucking know what I’ve been through!” She whirled around to Talia, teeth gritted. “Don’t you fucking touch me! Don’t fucking touch me!” Milan drew her hands up and jerked back, her movements almost robotic in their stiffness, and took two quick retreating steps. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, nobody will ever fucking touch me again if I don’t want it!”

No, no, no. Don’t go feeling fucking sorry. It was almost pathetic, the way Milan’s narcissism had peaked and promptly sent her into hysterics - the foundation she wore was beginning to bead with sweat on her upper lip and forehead, and there were tears, fucking tears, involved. It happened every fucking time - Milan would pull her condescending, belittling bullshit and no one would give two fucks. Time after time after time, Rory dealt with being a verbal punching bag. The little fucking doormat sister with a mean st--aw, man, that phrase has been fucking butchered. Fuck you, Phil. And yet after years of incessant taunting and venom and downright abuse...everyone was gathered in the hall, crowded around poor, damaged Milan writhing in Talia’s arms. Even her fucking friends delighted in Milan’s hysteria over the fuck that she had just, once again, been preyed on for fucking fun.

“Ceremonies aren’t usually like this,” she’d whispered to Charlotte. “Don’t go getting scared.” And then she’d pivoted on her heel and stormed off to find somewhere quiet, with Charlotte only a few hesitant steps behind.

There was a euphoria in winning. It was the closest she came to feeling real again that night, when the cold glass of the Golden Ticket was placed into her hands. That was enough to bring the high back, to wave to the crowd and smile. She’d fixed her makeup with a precision that was achingly familiar, called on some old tricks to try and hide the swelling as much as she could.

But the moment the ceremony wrapped up, she went right back to feeling hollow. That’s what happened when Maryland was remembered.

But I was a good girl. I won. Shouldn’t this stop? I won. I did what I was supposed to. I won, I won, I won. I’ll always win, because winners get to live. And I don’t want to die. I have to hold onto this.

Ohio hadn’t been much better. It was hilarious how Richard Kinzel was such a wicked man, threatening to harm her on countless times, but shared a name with someone as delicate and gentle as Rowan. She could hear his words clearer than she could feel the ghost of twisted wrists and knuckles against her cheek.

They’d made her hug Clark as a show of good sportsmanship, which they both thought to be a total heap of bullshit, and she could only whisper in his ear that he could never have saved her. He did not hug nearly as tight as prior years. He understood, when Maryland was remembered, touching was off-limits.

Rory’s words hung heavy in her head, much longer than the bruise around her eye. If that little nerd, who had fallen when receiving her Best New Ride of 2015 plaque, ever bested her...There was no way to stop the memories. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t.

But if it did, she knew she’d never taste anything but blood again.

#personified coasters #rory #milan #OW #allykat's writing

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