#«✫» Difficult As All Things Full of Hope ∣ PHOS: SKILLS.

[pemprika]

hnk ch. 100 thoughts (spoilers)

Making a full-on separate post because I thought there was a lot to draw from in this recent chapter... I needed to document it, so here is my veryy long thought bubble on hnk 100:

The chapter felt like a depiction of Phos in transition to accepting themself and adapting to a new phase of peace that they hadn’t experienced before. While young Phos had a carefree life, they were perpetually stuck feeling useless, never satisfied with the way they lived, and gradually lost all their friends, selfhood, and purpose.

It’s a little difficult to emotionally match the pacing of the story considering how often the series goes on hiatus now, but note that Phos had only recently come to terms with their own flaws and the reasons why everything ended up the way it did. They had a wish to be happy, and meeting these lifeforms allowed them to realize the meaning of their existence and be more content with it.

That poetic verse was introspective and contemplative. Rather than placing worth based on certain levels, like the gems’ hardness levels or Lunarians’ caste system, these rudimentary rocks perceive that all life is made equal. For thousands of years, gems tied their own value to a designated role, and if they couldn’t fulfill it, they devalued their existence. We saw a lot of perspectives throughout Phos’ journey, including how Rutile “failed” as a doctor for being unable to fix Padapradscha on their own, or how Dia “failed'' to live up as a diamond with refined fighting skills compared to their rivaled counterpart. Again, these are just flawed traits passed down from their human predecessors and the curse of immortality.

The chapter ending conveyed a hopeful conception that all things, primitive or refined, come from the same place (nature). I struggled to connect the details mentioned in ch 97 before, but it gave us sooo much foreshadowing to this new world. Dr. Ayumu said that, “the inorganic things that we had been using for ourselves will soon have a world of their own'', alluding that these little guys that Phos met are the new world.

 Interesting how Dr. Ayumu wanted Adamant to “build the bridge” and Phos to “burn the bridge” in order to create this “beautiful, rational world” to be a more freeing and less destructive place, and refresh the Earth to avoid relying on human values and qualities to stay self-fulfilled.

I was talking with @/mlkinis who brought up an interesting theory of using rocks in this new arc to symbolize the reversion of materialism. The rocks, elements derived from basic nature, have vastly different virtues compared to the gems, a class of refined minerals that developed a habitual routine of upkeep socially and culturally. While gems are also made from the Earth, they are perceived as high-value and are often polished to be artificially beautiful. 

One Buddhist principle reflects on detaching oneself to worldly possessions and desires, such as wealth, in order to attain inner peace, and it seems that having these primitive rocks is a representation of Phos “letting go” of the gem society, which may be another way of showcasing that the world is returning back to life as the way it once was, and that Phos is on a path to attaining ultimate happiness. I’m wondering if Dr. Ayumu’s line, “When you cross that bridge, burn it” refers to Phos leaving their suffering behind as they’re going forth to being happy in this new world that is coming to be...

Anyway, upon reading the passage, along with meeting the sentient rocks and hearing its rock friend sing the verse, I felt like Phos reconciled with their own self and existence, and melted from feeling at peace 🥺😭!! Thank you, Ichikawa as always… This was a very cool and comforting chapter for me.

[hclianthi]

after 8 billion years, Phos has a tag drop. Part 1: general tags, eyooo

[lonelypond]

MoonLight Becomes You, Chapter One

Howdy! This is my @lovelivesecretadmirer2018 gift for @nico-nasty.The prompt was “Your Favorite AU” so here we are. No spoilers, you’ll have to read it to see, although there might be some guesses. It got more involved than I expected so I’m posting the first half. I hope that’s okay and you enjoy this, @nico-nasty. I tried to make it more Eli-centric than usual for me.

Love Live, NozoEli, NicoMaki, 5.7K, 1/2

Things Take A Turn

Eli Ayase, tall, blonde, quarter Russian, smarter and smoother than whoever’s standing next to you, was used to being stronger and faster and taller and hotter than everyone else. Part of why she had started hanging out with her housemate, Nico Yazawa, small, sable haired, dynamic, impossibly cute, was that Nico refused to be impressed or awed by any of it. Eli would wander into their bungalow’s kitchen and instead of drooling or dropping a dish or delivery a cheesy pickup line, Nico would just chuck a towel at Eli’s head and say, “Hey, Blondie, your turn to dry”. It was refreshing.

They’d met at Northwestern, both dance minors, and in the time honored tradition of Making It Big™, had moved out to LA together after graduation. The most serious disagreement they’d ever had was when Eli had discovered pineapple pizza and used their weekly take out splurge money on it. Eli was no longer in charge of dinner, ever. All food choices had to be approved by Nico via text or hand written note. Besides their Monday night indulgence, they took turns cooking, which led to their brightest idea, the Popcorn and Pelmini Podcast, where they talked movies and food, reviewing movies and describing the foods they’d cater based on the movies. LA was a hungry town in many ways and movies were everywhere, so Popcorn and Pelmini took off. Takeout went from once a month to once a week.

Tonight, Eli had strict orders to stop on the way home and grab pho and spring rolls, for a light Spring dinner, so she was was enjoying the walk through their Silver Lake neighborhood, after the afternoon at her part time job writing grants. While she lived for her chances to perform as a dancer or an actor, the solid job with the local performance academy allowed her to take a break and just focus on paperwork and meeting deadlines. It was soothing.

The afternoon had been bright, but suddenly there was a change in the wind and a bank of clouds raced in, darkening the day as Eli felt the wind push against her. Suddenly, her scarf whirled away, twisting down an alley Eli wasn’t familiar with. Her scarf twisted around a bike rack in front of two tiny storefronts, one had a sign with Cyrillic letters promising Tasty Foods, the other a crystal ball that mostly looked like a disco ball, painted by someone who’d never seen either. It was somehow a charming muddle, especially as it came with a whiff of rye, garlic, horseradish and dill from next door. Eli’s mouth watered at the thought of borscht or zharkoye, but before she could step into the store, a woman came out of the crystal ball shop. Tall, voluptuous, dark hair with an intriguing purple tint -- that was the only word Eli could think of to describe the curves the flowing fabric of a floral dress hung on, with turquoise eyes that caught Eli staring.

“Oh.” The woman put her key back in her pocket, “Are you here for a reading. I was about to close up?”

Sure, Eli thought, a reading, I can read books, you’re pretty, then realized that her mouth hadn’t actually opened, which considering what her brain had fumbled to was probably a good thing. Just stop at the first word, “Sure.”

“I’m Nozomi.” Her laugh almost tinkled, the smile was a soft, warm breeze and every waft of spiced air made Eli think dinner was cooking in her grandmother’s kitchen. She wasn’t sure she hadn’t slipped into the best daydream ever.

“Cool. I’m Eli.” Eli followed Nozomi into the store. Bookshelves, filled with knick knacks, books, candles, fabrics that looked hand dyed, and boxes of Tarot cards. Ah, now the reading offer made sense.

Nozomi led the way to a small low, wooden table in the back, two pillows on the floor, Japanese style. Eli was having a day where all of her ancestors were visiting. She hoped it was a good omen.

Nozomi knelt, putting both hands on the table, “So what brings you in for a reading?”

Eli was still taking in all the small details, so she answered Nozomi while twisted around, trying to read the book titles closest to her, “The wind.” Eli turned back to the table and now, Nozomi was watching her curiously so Eli smiled, “I like your shop.”

“The wind.” Nozomi reached under the table and pulled out a deck, “This is my oldest deck, I don’t use it much, but the wind rarely blows in such a…” Nozomi paused, “distinctive face.”

Eli took the deck, unsure if Nozomi had complimented her.

“Shuffle and think about what you’d like some insight about. Do you have a question for the cards?”

“Can I have your owner’s number” was not a question the cards could answer, Eli suspected. She wondered if there was going to be a change in the ordinary, orderly progression of her days. “Just some general advice.”

Nozomi’s face gave very little away but Eli might have guessed she was puzzled. Eli shuffled the cards expertly, Nico’s insistence on a monthly poker night had sharpened her skills.

“Place the top 3 cards face down in a row.”

Eli followed instructions, putting the deck aside.

“Now turn them over.”

Eli had, of course, seen Tarot cards before, but never really paid attention to the details. The first card was a man with a staff, holding off a group. You could only see the ends of their weapons. Cute little leaves were growing out of the staves, Eli wondered if that meant anything. She glanced up at Nozomi, whose face was once again difficult to read. Nozomi tapped the middle card, “We need to see them all together.”

“Makes sense,” Eli flipped the next card, which had a red devil dog person laying across the top of a clock that made no sense, staring at her, upside down winged creatures scattered at the corners of the card. Not even looking to Nozomi, she turned over the third card, still trying to make sense of the muddle she’d uncovered in the middle. Third card was an open fellow with a flower in his hand, setting out to travel.

Eli felt a little nervous. She’d never met the cards or Nozomi before, but she suddenly felt as if she’d let a secret slip out. But she had no secrets...well, except the big one, but if that came out in a Tarot reading, Eli would think Nozomi was the FBI agent monitoring her smartphone mic. Nozomi was now touching the center card with the tips of fingers, her other tapping on the table, “Not an easy read, Eli.”

“Does that mean I’m going to fly away, carried by upside down angels?” Eli really had no frame of reference for any of this, but was driven by an urge to see if she draw another bright laugh from the woman across from her.

Nozomi snorted instead, “The card is upside down, not the creatures. They’re all out of various mythologies. There’s so many hints woven together in each card. This is the Wheel of Fortune and reversed, well,” Nozomi hesitated, then rested her hand gently on Eli’s. Eli jerked a little at the contact, but did not pull back, “you may be due for some unpleasant changes and challenges as you roll through the cycle, but the seven of wands indicates you’ve conquered difficulties before so remember your strengths.”

“That sounds sensible.” Nozomi was giving Eli advice that could cover anything, but with the connections she was making with the images on each of the cards, the reading seemed less fabricated than Eli had expected.

“Expecting me to say you’ll meet the love of your life tomorrow at 3 p.m. and she’ll have…”

Eli cut off Nozomi, “No, I’m not that silly. I know divination, whatever your mystical beliefs, is a tool to sort through the things a person may be worrying about.” Eli reran in her head Nozomi ‘s last sentence, surprised at the “she,” but maybe Eli being a complete pushover about the reading had giving Nozomi a cue about her gay weakness for curves and sensuous smiles. “Besides, I’d rather have meeting the “love of my life” be serendipitous.”

“A romantic?” Nozomi took her hand from Eli’s and shifted the last card slightly.

Eli shrugged, “Not really. I just” and Eli grinned, letting her eyes do what she hoped was twinkle in a friendly fashion, “have expert level planning and organizational skills, which are great for work, but dating, dating should be something different...surprising, startling...serendipitous.”

Nozomi laughed. “You also have a distinctive mind, Eli-chi. This last card suits you, but don’t take offense at the name. It’s The Fool. It’s the bold start of a new journey, confidently stepping out to deal with whatever comes your way.”

“I like that.” Eli leaned forward, taking another look at the card, “He’s enjoying the air.”

“Maybe it’s a nice breeze full of Russian spices.” Nozomi swept the cards back into the deck, shuffling.

Eli chuckled, “Ah, you noticed I wasn’t checking out your shop. My grandmother is Russian. I miss her kitchen.”

“Today’s special is zharkoye. You should take some home to…”

Eli shook her head, “My housemate doesn’t let me deviate from plans since the day I decided to try pineapples on pizza. She’s expecting pho.”

“She’ll be wanting zharkoye, you know she will. She won’t mind. Just give her a wink.”

“You haven’t met Nico. My charms have no effect on her.” Eli stood, “but well made zharkoye might. It is technically soup with beef, vegetables and spices, and I bet they have dumplings so dinner wouldn’t be so far off from pho and spring rolls.” Eli reached for her wallet, “How much do I owe you for the reading?”

Nozomi waved away Eli’s offer, “Consider it a trial run. Just stop by again. Wednesdays they make an excellent zelyoniye shchi and everyday there’s borscht, of course.”

“You really like your Russian foods.” Eli shoved her hands in her pocket as Nozomi stood.

“It’s a very distinctive cuisine that has attracted my attention.” Nozomi opened the door for Eli. “Stop by when you figure out what the wheel’s turned to.”

Eli almost said “looking forward to it” then remembered that Nozomi had said “unpleasant changes and challenges” so nodded her head with a “Thanks, Nozomi” as she planned a dinner menu that would make Nico not mind the change in plan.

Eli returned to their small bungalow with two bags of food, having been lured by childhood favorites into spending more money than budgeted. Nico would go ballistic, but then she’d taste the food and downgrade her disapproval to minor grumping.

“Hey Nico!” Eli kicked the door shut. She could see Nico moving around in the kitchen, and then caught something out of the corner of her eye. Slouched on the couch, laptop propped on one of Nico’s impossibly pink pillows was a woman, red hair contained by a gray baseball cap tilted to the side with Refuse To Conform in a circular logo, dressed in green and purple striped board shorts and a black muscle tee. She glanced up casually, gave Eli a slow once over with extremely disinterested lavender eyes and snorted.

Eli put the bags on the counter, pointing over her shoulder as Nico moved to see what Eli had been diverted by this week, “Your stray looks feral.”

Nico snort was an echo of the mystery woman’s on the couch, “You should talk. That’s Maki.”

Still no help. Eli didn’t really like random strangers staring holes through her back so she pressed for answers, “Nico.”

Nico watched as Eli unpacked things that weren’t from their usual Thai place, “What did you do, Eli?”

“First explain Maki.” Eli hoarded the foil containers, enjoying the rich scents and knocking Nico’s prying hands back.

“Fine. You remember Nico was giving an interview to the Rice and Ramen cuties?”

Another snort from the couch, a burst of typing and as Eli looked back, Maki was sliding headphones over one ear.

“Yeah.”

“Well Maki was there. Turns out she does all their awesome music.” Nico hopped up to lean over the counter and blow a kiss in the direction of the couch, “So Nico talked her into doing some pieces for ours. It’ll take us to the next level.”

“NICO!” Eli knew her next statement would sound hollow when she’d just overspent their takeout budget on a nostalgia fix, but she said it anyway. “We can’t afford that.”

“She’s not a horse or my teenage brother so we can afford to feed her a few meals.” Nico opened a container and sniffed, “What is this?”

“I got blown into a weird corner with a Russian restaurant and a Tarot reader next door. She said they had zharkoye today and I couldn’t resist.”

Nico pulled out a spoon for a tasting, “Wow. Really rich stock. Nice. Nico almost forgives you.”

Eli unwrapped the steaming package of varenyky, “First you try the cabbage and mushroom, then later, the cherry and you’ll love me.”

Nico brought a stack of plates to the counter, “Hey Maki, you care what I put on your plate?”

“No.” There was a pop as Maki achieved full headphones.

“Is she actually composing music for us?” Eli ladled soup into three bowls.

“Yeah, she’s sharp, smart and really talented. Nico’s impressed.” Nico rubbed the end of her nose, “Plus, truthfully, Nico doesn’t mind the scenery.”

“Ha!” Eli was salivating, impatient to dive into dinner, but since Nico had drifted to that conversational lane, she confessed, “I met someone impressive today too.”

“Is she a Russian cook, because color Nico surprised.” Nico’s sardonic nature was a refreshing splash of tonic water in a world full of people outsmiling each other.

“No, the Tarot reader.” Eli sat on the stool, and started with the soup, having sampled the varenky earlier, “Her name’s Nozomi. She seems about our age. Not what I expected. Practical.”

“Practical.” Nico popped a varenky in her mouth, taking a moment for a brief murmur of enjoyment. “So what kind of package is practical wrapped up in?”

“Curvy.” Eli admitted, slightly adorable when abashed, not that Nico would publicly concede that.

“See, this is why we will always be perfect roommates,” Nico picked up the tray she’d loaded with bowls, plates and silverware and headed around the end of the island, “You like curvy and Nico likes...:”

Hungry as she was, Eli couldn’t resist the cue, “I’ve always wondered what Nico likes.”

“An audience.” Nico winked. Eli half turned on the stool to watch as Nico slid into the couch next to Maki, tray on the table in front of them. Eli was surprised to catch the redhead smile shyly when Nico was too preoccupied with food placement to notice. Maybe they were getting free music after all.

Eli had left her futon in the couch position. Usually, she went through her ballet exercises in the morning, but she had an audition tomorrow. She never enjoyed auditions...too many nerves, too many memories. Tonight, Eli felt especially jittery, almost feverish. A long session at the barre would help exhaust her enough to sleep. She’d be losing enough sleep tomorrow night.

Eli swept her long hair up into a ponytail, met her own eyes in the mirrored wall. Fierce determination looked back, a hint of sadness in the blue. Yes, tonight’s dinner had been a warm reminder of a time in her life surrounded by love, but it was also a time in her life when she’d been through the harshest of wringers, struggling to keep up with other children, other dancers, pushing down the queasiness as she stepped out on stage in front of a judging panel, desperate not to disappoint. Reaching a hand out to the barre, Eli breathed in, centered her weight and prepared to do her first GRANDE PLIÉ.

Nico had been lying in bed, a little restless. Maki had fallen asleep over her laptop, after Eli disappeared into her room so Nico had covered the composer with a blanket, sipped tea until the snoring started and went into her own bedroom with the door open. Sleepwear for new, cute, nice, if mostly inarticulate potential friend crashing on the couch? Nico had decided on fun SHORT sleep shorts with cartoon bunnies and a pink camisole. Why not be prepared for late night chat and sharing about music or dreams or professional aspirations. Nico fell asleep wondering what else Maki had composed music for and if Nico had run across her work during a voice acting gig.

“AAAAHHHHHHHH….no….get away from me!” Nico woke up, fuddled, heart racing, hair falling in her eyes. That wasn’t Eli’s voice. Nico sprang out of bed, hitting the light switch in the living room as she raced toward the scream. Maki was sitting up on the couch, staring around her, one of the glass doors next to the kitchen island open.

“Maki? Are you all right?” Nico shut the door, listening for anyone else in the house. Where was Eli? No response from Maki, so Nico moved back to the living room, sat on the table in front of where her guest was still looking panicky on the couch, hands gentle on Maki’s shoulders to command the redhead’s attention. Nico’s voice was soft. “What happened?”

Maki almost shuddered, “I...I think something sniffed me.”

“Hell…” So much for calm and softness. Nico snapped around and made for Eli’s bedroom. Sheets on the floor, no Eli, bathroom door open showing an empty room.

Nico walked slowly back to Maki, who quickly averted her eyes when she realized she’d been staring at Nico’s shorts. “Did you see her?”

“Her, who?” Maki was more and more confused.

Nico put her hands together, in prayer position, dropping her head into them and blowing out her frustration. She spoke slowly, “Was it a dog?”

Maki couldn’t read Nico’s attitude, “Maybe…”

“About this high?” Nico held a hand out, halfway between waist and breast height.

“Not sure.” Maki rubbed her cheek, “Just felt something damp and cold press against me.”

“Oh, Eli.” Nico muttered, ignoring Maki and heading back to the kitchen. The trash had been knocked over and bags from tonight’s dinner had been scattered, “What happened to you?”

Maki was standing behind Nico, suddenly close, “What happened to who?”

Nico turned, lip downturned, her face close enough that she seemed to be searching Maki’s eyes and decided to shoot off a question. “What’s your stance on cryptids?”

“Cryptids?” Maki had absolutely no idea what this conversation was about or why Nico was so intense or why she couldn’t stop staring at the tiny tiny flecks of deeper ruby flicked across Nico’s irises.

Nico stepped back, rubbing her forehead, then counting things off with her fingers, “Vampires, Big Foot, Yeti, Jersey Devil, Loch Ness Monster...werewolves…”

Maki tentatively decided to try breaking the mood, “Nessie always takes good pictures.”

Wrong move. Nico threw up her hands, stormed to the glass doors and a rant slowly gained volume and speed, “Wakes Nico up by scaring the life out of her, doesn’t bother to notice who sniffed her, then decides to be funny right when Nico has to figure out what to do…” Nico leaned forward, her hands on the doors.

Maki was having even more trouble than usual processing thoughts, due to being startled awake, events that made no sense, Nico’s rant continuing sotto voce, a craving for donuts and/or coffee, and being unable not to stare at the muscles of Nico’s legs as the hem of her shorts brushed them. “I’m…sorry.”

Nico stopped muttering and turned around, “Huh?”

Maki twirled a strand of hair, managing to almost look Nico in the eye, “I’m still a little fuzzy, maybe still partly asleep. I can help more with coffee.”

“Nico doesn’t have time for that.” Nico grabbed a bag scrap off the floor, “Dawn’s only a couple of hours away.”

“Dawn?” Maki guessed that had something to do with the cryptid comment, but it was only a guess.

“Nico has to get dressed. And play detective.” Nico dodged around Maki, heading to her room, but Maki’s hands were suddenly on her waist, spinning her.

“Explain. Please.”

Once again, Nico’s face was so close that Maki nearly stopped breathing, caught in a fierce scrutiny.

Nico gently removed Maki’s hands. “How about Nico promises to explain later after she finds her roommate?”

Maki’s turn to take a moment to consider what she could read from Nico’s face. Mostly worry, determination, some concern that seemed directed at Maki. Maki decided to trust Nico. “If you let me help.”

Nico nodded, then shoved a torn off part of bag at Maki, “Do you know where that is?”

Maki read the address, “Oh yeah, it’s pretty close to a few clubs I know. I didn’t know anything new had opened there.”

Nico tilted her head, recalibrating, “And Nico thought you spent all your nights on other people’s couches. Not out dancing.”

Maki decided not to answer as she calculated the best way to get there.

“Nico will be back in two minutes. Grab a snack out of the cabinets next to the fridge. Sorry about the coffee, we’ll stop if we find a place.” Nico paused and glanced back, “Pull some raw meat out of the fridge, there’s chicken. Storage bags to the left of the sink.”

Food would help Maki makes sense out of this morning. Being woken up by some kind of animal -- who has a ‘cryptid’ crossing in their living room -- hadn’t been pleasant, but watching Nico crisis solve in her pajamas was kinda fascinating. Maki didn’t mind following along for the ride.

Nico was driving, telling Maki to look out for a fluffy greyhound type of dog, nearly three feet tall, very light fur. They parked a couple blocks off the restaurant's corner. Wind was starting to whip up a bit so Maki zipped her hoodie, chasing after a Nico who was moving nearly as fast as the car had been, head snapping from side to side. Maki found herself listening, but it was still predawn enough that the birds hadn’t hit yawning yet so the air was a mix of distant cars and rustling leaves, with the faint thump of a bass line amped somewhere to the west. Maki pulled out her Tascam and hit record as she walked. It might fit nicely into a set when she wanted to slow down the mood for the night.

Nico stopped, which Maki only realized when she nearly caused Nico to fall, drawing a hiss from the shorter woman.

“Sorry.” Maki pocketed the recorder, wondering what caught Nico’s attention. A moving white animal seemed to be rustling in a pile of trash.

“How did she do that…” Nico muttered, walking quickly, but careful to stay calm, “Hey, Eli...it’s Nico. We need to get you home. It’s almost dawn.” Nico opened the bag of raw chicken. “C’mon.”

Eli. Maki just stood there, watching Nico approach the……...dog? Cryptid? Creature? Quick inventory, four legs, tail, not hunched over and tearing a spine out of someone, wait what if it started tearing the spine out of....Maki found herself slow running to catch up to “NICO!”

Nico didn’t turned but waved Maki back, which Maki ignored. They were approaching the two storefront corner now and the...creature...paused, sniffing. Then a light went on in the storefront without weird partly Greek writing and Nico and the creature turned, the creature with a single bark.

“Can I help you?” A tall woman with purple tinted hair loose around her shoulders stepped out of the door.

Maki glanced to Nico, who sighed, “Hi, new person.” Nico pointed, “Nico needs to get her into my car.”

Maki, hand on Nico’s shoulder, watched as the creature slowly, skittishly sniffed the newcomer, who knelt and smiled, hand out “That’s a popular hair color on this block, recently.”

“No it’s not.” Nico zoomed in, bag under the nose as the creature whined and stuck her snout in and started chewing. “Come on, E…” Nico coughed, “come back to the car, you. Nico needs her beauty sleep.”

Hopping backwards, Nico seemed to be successful in her attempts to lure as they were getting closer to her car. Maki jumped ahead to open the back door, which they’d left unlocked for quick grabs, then stepped to the side. Nico tossed the bag into the back seat with an urgent, “You can do it, get the treat, c’mon, do it for Nico.” The creature stared at Nico for a moment, then climbed into the seat. Nico shut the door and leaned back against the car. No way the chicken and drool stain was coming out easily, but that would be Eli’s problem, not Nico’s.

“Thanks, person Nico does not know. Sorry to disturb you this early.” She stood, “C’mon, Maki.”

Maki was pretty sure she should be offended that Nico had used that same tone of voice on the creature, but she slid into the passenger side as Nico tried to get around the new person. The creature had settled into the back seat and was licking its paws so Maki rolled down her window a bit.

Nozomi held her arms akimbo, “It’s no problem, Nico, right? I’m Nozomi. I was just up to go to the temple I volunteer at. That’s a beautiful dog.”

“Thanks.” Nico grumped, “She always attracts attention. And now I really have to get her home.”

Nozomi was confused by Nico’s brusqueness, which didn’t slow Nico down at all. She was in the car, turning the key in the ignition and giving Maki orders before Nozomi managed to say “Have a nice day.”

“Grab the blanket out of that bag at your feet and toss it over Eli, please.” Nico hit the accelerator. If it had been a manual, she might have shredded the clutch.

Maki unzipped the bag, “Okay, why? And why were you so rude?”

Nico turned from the road to grit her teeth at Maki, “Nico is always charming. But Eli is going to be a naked blonde woman in another couple of minutes and I know she’d prefer we all spare ourselves that sight.”

Maki shrunk a little, suddenly reminded this wasn’t an ordinary lost dog hunt and Nico still had a lot to explain.

Nico reached out a hand and patted Maki on the knee. “Thanks for helping out, Maki. Nico has to solo too often. It’s nice to have company.”

“Yeah,” Maki yawned as she dropped the blanket over the seat. She was ready to fall asleep again, as uncomfortable as Nico’s couch had been.

Something thumped into the back of Maki’s seat with a whimper, followed by a brief howl whine. Nico was holding her breath, hand frozen on Maki’s leg, “Eli?”

“Nico?” Rustling noises now and maybe some crying, but Maki didn’t want to turn around. She sensed that that would not be a Nico approved choice.

“It’s all right, Eli. We found you. You had a Russian food craving.”

“Why did I…” Eli’’s voice shook, fearful…”was that Nozomi?”

Nico’s hands were now both on the steering wheel, knuckle white grip, while her voice spilled comfort. “Yeah, but she just thought you were a lost dog.”

“Nico…” Another cry.

“Don’t worry about it, Eli. We’ll figure it out after we get home. Is your head hurting?”

“Yes.”

“Nico brought some aspirin, Maki’ll get it out of the bag for you, please, Maki.”

Maki nodded and Nico smiled. The pill and water bottles were easy enough to find. Maki handed them over the seat to Eli, whose eyes were red and almost as runny as her nose.

“Here you go.” Maki cleared her throat. “You don’t have to worry about me. I don’t talk to people. It’s just...well, Nico obviously needed help.” Nico snorted.

Eli nodded, her voice a tired mutter. “Thanks. Nico does a lot. She’s pretty amazing.”

Maki grunted. Nico crowed, hands loosening on the wheel, “Nico has a fan club now. Let’s hear some cheers, pretty girls.” One hand flew up to her temple, “Nico Nico Ni.”

Silence greeted that initiative but Nico couldn’t throttle back her cheeky grin. Which Maki couldn’t resist echoing. Eli just moaned, curled up in the blanket, miserable, head throbbing from trying to run wolf senses through human circuits. Nozomi had sounded so kind.

Maki had settled back in on the couch, Eli had gone to shower and Nico was making coffee. She wasn’t getting any more sleep and she doubted Eli would. Maki had been silent when they hit the house, yawning and stretching out under the blanket, still in her hoodie. Nico wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried by how noncommittal the redhead was. But that wasn’t the immediate problem. The immediate problem was that Eli only ever turned one night a month and last night wasn’t it. Or else Maki would not have been on Nico’s couch. Tonight, tonight, Eli would have been prepared. Tonight, no one would be on the couch and Eli would be sedated and sleeping it off like a bad hangover.

Eli sat down at the island, hair still wet, blue striped dress shirt still not tucked into her pencil skirt; Nico pushed a mug of half hot chocolate, half coffee her way. Eli smiled at the smell, “Thanks for the treat, Nico.”

Nico shrugged, swigging from her own mug, half coffee, half home made vanilla bean coffee creamer, “You had a rough night.” Eli nodded. “Do you know what happened?”

Eli shook her head, then opened her mouth to wave off the heat from the hastily gulped drink. Her throat was now going to hurt as much as everything else today. Cheerful. “I was restless, I didn’t actually think I’d get to sleep…”

“Nervous about the audition?” Nico asked.

Eli closed her eyes with a sigh, “Always. Then…” Eli rubbed her forehead, aggressively, Nico almost considered pulling away her hands, “there were smells and I remembered...someone friendly...and you were there...and I was hungry and wanted to go home???” Eli preferred treating being a werewolf like a sick day spent recovering from outpatient surgery: plan around it, refuse to let it disrupt anything and stay in bed to aid recovery. Very Eli. Control the problem, organize the symptoms.

“Nozomi was there.” Nico mentioned casually.

“I know.”

“Do you think it was because of her? This all started at puberty right, maybe it’s hormones?”

“Oh, and I’m suddenly going to “alpha” and start jumping on anything in heat?” Eli’s voice was scornful and she finished her drink quickly, the better to storm off.

“Eli,” Nico grabbed Eli’s hands, trapping them around her mug, “I didn’t mean that. It’s just…” Nico’s hands were warm, “people act differently when they’re attracted to someone. It’s not rational. And this close to the full moon, it might have tipped you…”

“That’s ridiculous, Nico.” Eli’s voice raised, Nico glanced to the couch. “I am in control of my emotions.” Eli shook off Nico’s hands. “I don’t know why it happened, but I will be making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay, Eli.” Nico deliberately ignored all the screaming alarm flares that Eli did not actually have the situation under control, “Just tell Nico if you need any help. I’ll make sure Maki’s not around tonight.”

“Thanks Nico.” Eli stood, tucked her shirt in, ponytailed her hair, buttoned everything but the top button and became All Business Eli. Nico, a master of presentation herself, was always impressed by how Eli never cracked the polished, professional, emotionless facade. If Nico hadn’t caught Eli sobbing, drunk and vulnerable after a bad breakup, one night their freshman year, Nico might have never known the caring, emotionally clueless, mischievous, sometimes straight up silly person under all the imposed self control. Dancers always pushed their bodies, training their minds to overcome pain. Eli practiced that on her emotions as well. Nico’s job as a friend was to get Eli to ease back on herself, but it was a struggle.

“Are you going to wake her up?” Eli asked, gesturing over her shoulder at the snoring redhead.

Nico’s answer was no, she was going to sneak out quietly and leave a note for the too cute to disturb visitor, then hurry home after her meeting with her agent, but she knew Eli wouldn’t approve of that. So she hedged. “Nico will take care of it.”

“Good.”

It had been a quiet morning at the shrine. Nozomi was back home with a cup of tea, pondering the scene this morning. The small, dark haired woman had been behaving suspiciously with the taller redhead obviously half a step behind on whatever the plan was. They didn’t live in the neighborhood, so their dog must have wandered. Unless it was drawn by the smell of the Cafe next door. Perhaps it was one of those Russian wolfhounds, Nozomi thought, bolshoi, no borzoi. She, Nico had called her a she, had seemed quiet, shy. So not a boisterous borzoi, Nozomi giggled to herself. Perhaps it was drawn by the smell, this morning, there was strongly spiced tea in the air, probably with dense, sweet tea cakes ready to dust your fingers with sugar. Thinking of the menu next door brought back a memory of yesterday afternoon and the tall Russian food aficionado  with the twinkling blue eyes. She wondered if Eli liked sweets, maybe she should start keeping them around in case the Wheel of Fortune rolled Eli back into her shop. Ah, but Nozomi stopped herself there, it was no good wishing for tall, pretty, stacked blondes with smart cerulean eyes to return, the Universe didn’t work like that. Although, perhaps a trail of Prague cake slices would work if Eli really did have a sweet tooth.

Nozomi sighed. She obviously wasn’t getting Eli off her mind this morning. She reached for her deck, the same one she’d handed to Eli and dealt three cards. After a minute to center her feelings, she turned them over. Five of Swords. A problem card. Next. Death. Nozomi drew a breath. Change. Upheaval. She rarely drew that card for herself, settled into a routine that brought her satisfaction, if not joy. What would the Future bring. Nozomi stared at the Queen of Cups, blonde hair cascading to her shoulder as she sipped from the cup where her emotions and thoughts gathered. Nozomi tried not to see Eli there, on a throne, graceful hands bringing up the cup to her glistening mouth. Nozomi, startled by the vividness of the image, swept the three back into the deck, discomfited. What did the cards have in store?

A/N: Hi! This was a gift for @nico-nasty on Tumblr. The prompt was Eli, Kanan, Nico, Maki and "your favorite AU." Which I was forced by my wife to admit was werewolf so here we are, an Eli-centric Bibi werewolf AU. The plot got more complicated than I expected (color no one who follows my stories surprised) so this is the first half. I'll be working on the second half in the beginning of March (i have a Christmas fic to finish and Casual Lunacy to continue). Hope you enjoy!

Also, there’s a playlist: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLko9fiFcKQ05lK_hHMrTy790lh4LIwDLp

[scatterbrainedscholar]

The following is the first installment of my attempt to consolidate my journal notes from last year (2107)  into something of a coherent story.  It was a year of solitude, wandering, and a fair amount of reading.  My memories of each phase of the year, each place I found myself in, are strongly associated with, among other things, what I was reading at the time.  As a result, what follows is part journal, part book review.  Enjoy?

Part One – Winter

The new year started off with another long, lonely drive across the high plains from my brother’s house in Kansas City to my apartment near the boundary between Denver and Aurora.  I was in the middle of my first and only year teaching at an alternative[1] high school located out near the airport where the ever-expanding metropolis currently meets the prairie.  Having never had to really commute to work, I had tried in the fall to find a studio apartment within comfortable biking distance to the school.  There weren’t a ton of choices for studios and I ended up in one of those new, over-priced apartment complexes chock full of frivolous amenities and marketed with empty, superficial references to the unique “community feel”[2].  It was essentially a fancy dorm for the dog-owning medical students attending CU’s med school next door.

The complex was in an interesting corner of the Denver area,  bordered on the north and east with the parallel lines of Sand Creek, the new light rail R-Line, and highways 70 and 225 respectively (see map below).  To the west and south was old Aurora and the massive medical campus.   The surrounding neighborhoods were extremely diverse with recent immigrants from all over the world and many families that had been pushed out of the gentrifying city center of Denver.  At first, I thought I was in a kind of food desert, with fast food, Walmart, and a busted King Soopers being the main options, until I discovered all of the small taquerias, Ethiopian restaurants, Vietnamese pho spots, etc.

The far northeast Denver metro area

I was in a world of such interesting juxtapositions.  I could go for a walk along the creek and see beavers, foxes, coyotes, and countless waterfowl on my right and a massive natural gas depot, immigration detention center, and women’s prison on my left.  There were pleasant creek-side bike paths and a shiny new light rail right next to the concrete clusterf*** of the interstates and the east end of Colfax with all of its motels, pawn shops, and check-to-cash operations.   Near the school, taking up large swaths of land were huge, low-slung warehouse/distribution facilities and treeless neighborhoods of cookie-cutter houses while right across the street were rustic looking ranches with old stately cottonwoods, weathered barns, and horses.  On my way to work, I could see the sunrise in the east reflecting off the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies to the west, giving them a pinkish-orange hue, then upon arriving at school, get hit in the face with wind-blown tumbleweeds, parking-lot trash, and dust blown from the nearby field in the initial stages of becoming a new suburban development.

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Early on, when not at school and while it was still too cold to do anything outside other than the occasional brisk stroll to the creek or masochistic bike commute to work, I spent a good deal of time holed up in my high rent, thrift store furnished apartment.  It was that dark, hand-wringing time of the year with 45’s inauguration looming at the end of the month.  Personally, I was still reeling from an abrupt end to a long relationship, had few friends in all of Denver much less out in Aurora, and was struggling to keep my head up after long, stressful days at school.  As all teachers know, there is a unique and intense exhaustion that results from the constant interpersonal interactions and frenetic pace of a day working with large numbers of reluctant young people, especially in the first year at a school where most of those young people have long been screwed by the educational system and have “a lot on their plate” to begin with.  This was my third first year at a school in the past four years (as well as the fourth city – long story) and I was the physics and chemistry teacher of many students who were still working on their basic math skills. [3]

I often coped by coming home in a zombie-like trance, withdrawing first into my apartment and then into another time and place via bluetooth headphones and a good audiobook.   I was too mentally exhausted to actually read but didn’t want to descend any further into the mindless world of Netflix-dependence, so I moped around, trying to busy my hands with various bike projects while consuming prodigious amounts of spoken word.  In January, Barbara Kingsolver’s 2012 novel, Flight Behavior, provided the perfect balance of hope and escape that I needed after days spent surrounded by all manner of bewildering, depressing nonsense whether it was the new president on the radio, smartphone-addicted students snapchatting with each other across the classroom, disconnected and dehumanizing district bureaucrats threatening students, or irrational motorists in the dystopian rush-hour traffic flowing through industrial exurbia.

Flight Behavior is a beautiful story of a young mother in a rural Appalachian community grappling with the intersection of personal/familial struggles and the unfamiliar, existential threat of climate change.   In short, she stumbles upon a population of monarch butterflies overwintering on a mountainside on her in-law’s land instead of continuing their normal migration to a mountain in the Mexican state of Michoacan.  Learning about and pondering the monarch butterfly’s incredible multi-generational migration is reason enough to read this book.

The narrative weaves in hyper-relevant issues like the cultural conflict between rural communities (poverty, religion, etc.) and coastal/academic elitism, and the difficulty in making sense of climate change in such a complex and interconnected world.  Human migration, along with that of butterflies, is also woven into the story with a family from a town near the monarchs’ normal roost in Michoacan coming in search of work, as well as a Caribbean-born, Harvard-educated, African-American scientist[4] who sets up a temporary laboratory to investigate the anomalous butterfly behavior.

I obviously identified with the unfulfilled, depressed, loner-with-a-broken-relationship status of the main character, Dellarobia, as well as with the frustrating, desperate struggle of the scientist, Dr. Ovid Byron, to connect with and communicate science to the people around him.  Dellarobia’s relationship with her young son also reminded me of my relationship with my mother when I was growing up.  She is loving, selfless, and caring while overburdened with responsibility but, more significantly, is very much an advocate and ally of her budding-scientist son.  The style and voice of the narrator makes a big difference in whether I can sustain attention to an audiobook.  The fact that Kingsolver, who is herself from a rural Appalachian community, is the narrator definitely helps lend authenticity in more ways that just getting the characters’ accents right.  Her calm and somewhat gloomy tone provided the perfect accompaniment to my shuffling walks around my apartment.

I’m extremely picky with the little fiction I read, and was not disappointed with this choice. It’s a great story for our time.  In the post-election search for blame, understanding, and/or absolution, many people seemed to be talking about Hillbilly Elegy [5] by J.D. Vance, but I thought this book should have resurged to prominence the way Rebecca Solnit’s Hope in the Dark from 2004 is doing right now.  One of the “take-home” messages of the book, and of my experience as a teacher, is that the issue of “climate-denial” isn’t about ideological differences, nor is it about intelligence.  While the money and power of greedy, shortsighted (unintelligent?) fossil fuel industry oligarchs certainly makes the problem exponentially more difficult, as Ovid makes clear in a few  rants, the real obstacle is a lack of shared experience and empathy.

To have productive dialogue that leads to mutual understanding – before tackling how to move forward – there needs to be shared context.   It should be apparent by now, that you often can’t just tell “the truth” to people without that shared context, especially when trying to communicate about abstract, schema-threatening concepts such as anthropogenic climate change (or evolution).  This is the inconvenient truth – that without the foundation of shared context, no matter how much evidence you have and how clearly and logically (or sensationally) you present it, you might as well be speaking a different language.  The kind of understanding that will affect one’s decision-making will not result. [6]

Of course, all humans have shared experience, so it can be a matter of having the empathy to get beyond superficial layers of culture that turns people into ‘others’ to find that common humanity.  This takes time and patience.   It also requires restraint from ascribing perplexing, seemingly irrational behavior or ideas to backwardness or stupidity.  It requires the humility to reflect on and question the nature of your own constructed worldview and paradigm of understanding.  Good teachers certainly understand this.  This finding or building of  the context and language with which to construct new understanding is not as easy as it is often made to look in movies.

In the book, Dellarobia and Ovid hang out and work together in the lab.  They spend enough time in “the trenches” together as well as with the butterflies.  They discuss things, they learn about each other, but also just go about struggling through mundane activities together.  Both are changed, both understand things differently as a result.  They ‘make the road by walking’.  It’s not about the scientist finding something to latch onto as an “in” or finding some appropriate incentive to provide.  It isn’t a marketing problem, the goal isn’t to coerce or to win an argument.  Nor is the goal to proselytize effectively to the ‘ignorant masses’.  It’s about a dialogue – making connections and reaching a deeper, richer understanding together.  This need for shared experience is one of the reasons why “parachute” journalism and activism often sucks (and why my nomadic teaching career has been so frustratingly futile).  It’s one reason why eating food with strangers – breaking bread together – as Dellarobia and Ovid do, is so important in every culture.

Lastly, the book shows that besides sharing experience with each other, spending intimate time with other living things allows us to not just appreciate them more, but to see more.  You might see and begin to understand the hidden patterns and interconnections of things but more often than not, what you see more of is the depths of your own ignorance – the good kind.  Call it beauty, wonder, complexity, mystery, whatever – it’s a realization of inherent value that should be a part of our decision-making calculus.  It’s something  I don’t think you can’t just read about in a book – although that can help, of course.  On that note, I’m closing my laptop and going outside.

  To be continued...

[1] Technically called an “innovation “ and “pathways” school.  more later.

[2] One of my first interactions with one of my fellow community members at 21 Fitzsimmons was having my car towed by one of them for being in what I didn’t realize was their covered parking space.

[3] More later on the school experience.

[4] specifically an entomologist, or more specifically, a lepidopterist, save that one for Jeopardy

[5] I think a more illuminating memoir, in terms of the election, would be called Suburban Elegy

[6] As a wise man once said to me, “we can only communicate in a shared context, so when we try to communicate something about an imagined context that isn’t shared yet, communication breaks down. It isn’t that others don’t have any imagination. It’s that we don’t have the same imaginations, so we imagine separately, and then can’t communicate well.”

A Year in Reading – Part I The following is the first installment of my attempt to consolidate my journal notes from last year (2107)  into something of a coherent story.