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rating insults my best friend has given me
because this was fun last time
you look like a five-year-old gremlin
in response to me telling him he looks like a 35-year-old man
i was not being serious, he looks more like he's in his mid twenties
but still, it was not much of an insult from me and then he comes out with this shit
i'm more offended by the idea that i look five years old than the idea that i look like a gremlin
i already know i look like a gremlin
6/10, it's probably the most creative height joke i've ever heard but not the most creative insult i've heard from this guy, i know he can do better
you walk like a drunk ape
now this is not one i've heard before
very true
the full sentence was "for someone who walks like a drunk ape you've got surprisingly good balance when you're kicking my punchbag"
so it's actually part of a compliment?
7/10, still not the most impressive but i like it
your arm is the size of an anorexic snake
in response to me showing him my bicep and asking how it looked
i then instantly pretended to punch him
he's not wrong though
he proceeded to flex his muscles and ask me how they looked so i said "like a fat snake"
4/10, it was amusing but the image of an anorexic snake makes me sad. i'm just imagining a literal noodle with a face
it really completes the tiny tim look
in response to me showing him my first cane like ten minutes after i bought it (i say first because last week i got a new one! and it's adjustable so i can make it exactly the right size!)
i was literally the james acaster meme (see one of my previous posts)
i was wearing a newsboy cap at the time which didn't help
i do happen to look like a sickly victorian child so i get it
9/10, probably the most creative out of these
i refuse to believe that you could win a game of pool without cheating
sir?? sir??? excuse me???
he once "won" a pool game against me by cheating
and by cheating i mean he got up on the table and used the cue like a fucking golf club
he was drunk
last week i actually won a pool game without cheating
and when i told him he said this
2/10, outrageous
and now...
rating compliments my best friend has given me
or just generally nice things he's said to me because i don't want the conclusion of this post to be that he's an asshole
you've got the voice of an angel
in response to me singing in front of him for the first time
a month or so later he told my crush that i had "an insane singing voice"
shoutout to him for being the best wingman
8/10, it's a little cheesy but i like it
numerous variations of "don't be sorry for being ill, we all love you anyway and we're happy to take care of you"
has been said several times throughout the summer because i got sick with vitamin d deficiency and have been getting the Symptoms(TM) a lot and feeling bad about it because it makes spending time together difficult
last time he said this to me i'd been drinking apple cider, which i found out the hard way is stronger than pear cider, and halfway through him saying this to me i felt extremely sick. kind of ironic
also i said it to him a few weeks ago because we'd planned to hang out at my house the morning after a night out but he messaged me saying he'd accidentally eaten gluten and was having a reaction so he had to go home, and he said he felt like a dick so i basically gave him the same advice he always gives me
9/10, wonderful advice and a good reminder, it's just a shame he had to say it so much
you're so sweet :)
nice and simple
he always says it after i give him anything that vaguely resembles advice
10/10, no notes, perfection
this poem's only mediocre because you wrote it, if it had been written by anyone else it would be amazing
now this one confused me for a second because it doesn't sound like a compliment
i'd just shown him a poem i'd written which wasn't bad but it wasn't as good as my other poems
basically he meant the poem was only mediocre by my standards because my poetry is good
but by anyone else's standards it would be really good
7/10 because it was confusing but once i understood it was very sweet
i didn't think anyone could love me until i met you
i can't
i can't handle this
so lovely but so sad, mate are you okay??
every time i feel insecure i remember that he said this and i just
10/10 i have no words
and bonus
apparently after i left a party early he drunkenly asked me if i was ok. twice. and had to be reminded by the others that i wasn't there.
in between bouts of violently throwing up <3
and that, my friends, is true love
10/10
#howww do i tag thisss#rating things#get you a friend who can give you the worst insults and the best compliments
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In The Desert
My second of three eventual Passover fics, finally done, if literally nothing else. 4,500ish words, and I hope you enjoy it at least somewhat!
Moses never saw the Promised Land. He guided others to it, but he died before he ever set foot in that promised space, before he ever was allowed to know the feeling of safety and peace and home. To reach the goal he had longed for.
Mercy tried not to think too much on this, and told herself often that the Promised Land was only a place, and maybe it was Moses’ short-sightedness that did not allow him to see that the Promised Land was had while he wandered, in the arms of his wife, in the giggles of Jewish children knowing what it was to grow up free, in knowing that he had guided his people to something far more frightening but far greater. To inspire them to live a life of uncertainty, with great risk, but great reward. The Promised Land was where you found it, Mercy would say, often.
Sometimes she even believed it. This year was harder.
Was he ever resentful, she wondered, absent-mindedly setting the low table, for the punishment? That for one moment, he reacted in anger and bitterness instead of in patience and grace, that he lashed out, and so was barred from the doors of promise forever? Mercy thought on these things, and her own trespass against God, wondering which had kept her wandering all these years, without the promise she had so hoped for.
Sitting in Canada with her small second Overwatch, the way forward had seemed so simple. She had escaped the bondage of loneliness, and now there was only to keep going, to increase that family around her, to grow in love, even to hope for that thing she had imagined might be lost to her for so long, something she hadn’t dared hope for. She loved her Overwatch family. She loved her wife. She loved for a child. Now she could see it all growing further away, a golden land that she, like Moses, would only ever see others enter.
Tears filled her eyes as she considered it, blurring the fork she set down on the table. The day was rainy and cold, even for the general London April, and it went all the way through her, darkening and covering any warm space she may have been able to find within herself.
It was a year of failures. The same ones, over and over again, of bodies as quarrelsome and betraying as the Israelites, of ground being lost and joy being further and further away. This was meant to be a day of celebration, of freedom, but it all felt so empty, the freedom of a stray dog without home or comfort.
There was a knock at the door, and Mercy stood up straight, adjusting her sweater and tucking her hair behind her ears. There was no reason to ruin the day for everyone else, even if she could not find the joy for herself. When one is happy, it is easier to serve God and your community, she had read, from some rabbi, somewhere, and she did not deny that this was true.
Why then, had God denied her so much?
“Ang!” There was a bright, high peal through the entryway as Tracer sat on the small chair next to the door, taking off her shoes slowly, “Sorry, took us a bit--”
“We’re on time, Lena.” Emily smiled as she hung up her jacket.
“Oh. Right then, me planning is as bang on as ever,” She laughed merrily, “Entirely didn’t assume I’d missed the mark, exacting as I am.”
“You’re early.” Mercy touched at the edge of the couch.
“Someone tell Fareeha, she’ll want to note this in the official Overwatch ‘istory.”
Emily took her shoes from her and set them in the rack. “She’ll only be telling you you’ve no excuse hereafter.”
Tracer shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Bloody fucked every which way, I am.”
Yes, Mercy’s mind answered, you are.
It’s clearly degenerative and aggressive, whatever got set off. The seizures will get harder to treat, and the tremor, not to mention we have about a whack-a-mole’s guess at what it’ll start going after next. I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t think it’ll affect her cognition, luckily. Or unluckily, I guess...
She heard Pradeep’s voice echoing in her mind, and did her best to shake it off. She hadn’t given up yet. Things weren’t so bad that they could give up yet. There was still a chance, however small, wasn’t there? Even if they could just arrest it, just stop it where it was--her eyes flickered to the brightly colored cane Tracer’s hand reached for, more commonly carried than not now--she could live out the rest of her life in relative happiness. She could see it, in her mind’s eye. That golden strip of promise just beyond the horizon.
But she hadn’t been able to touch it, no matter how many specialists she bullied into consulting with her. No matter how many papers she read. No matter how long she walked and how fervently she prayed.
“Ang?” she looked up, and realized that Tracer was now standing in front of her, a puzzled look on her face. “You alright, love?”
Mercy shook her head. “Of course, only I am lost in my mind. Tired, I think.”
Tracer looked at her for a moment in that sharp way she had, eyes flitting like a hummingbird across Mercy’s face, but she was saved by a knock at the door, and the further entrance of Dva and Winston, chatting amiably as Winston carefully sidled into the apartment, McCree a short but meaningful distance behind them.
There they were, an assembled party, still crossing the long desert, signs of promise beginning to pop up around them. Since the battle for London, the world had taken a different view of them, an altogether kinder one. Pharah had her office building, constructed where she had always hoped. McCree had gotten a pardon from Interpol itself. Tracer had been offered damehood, which she had rather aggressively rejected, and the Victoria Cross, which she had aggressively accepted. All of them where heroes worldwide, their work seen for the long journey it had been, and honored. Mercy should have every reason to be pleased.
Professionally, her life had never been better, or the way more clear.
“Angela,” her wife’s voice pulled her out of the thought, “the family, I think, is assembled.”
She said it with a half-smile as she looked over to the strange assembly that filled the room. Mercy nodded, and watched as Pharah walked over to the table she had built with her own hands, in the center of the living room. There was a bubbling sort of excitement among all of them, and why wouldn’t there be? It was the first Passover in Pharah and Mercy’s new apartment, the one built on the bones of the old. Life had been destroyed and life had been rebuilt into something more suited for them, something better. Renewal. Hope. Mercy could see it all, and reminded herself of it, as Pharah playfully bickered with Tracer before grabbing her by the armpits and thumping her to the floor, back up against the couch. The rest of them settled in their own spots, on the floor, looking over to Mercy from time to time.
A perfect Seder, with the people she loved, and yet her eyes wandered to the corner next to her seat, the one she hadn’t even realized she had left clear. There should have been something, someone, there this year. She had prayed for it, she had pleaded for it, she had given and fasted and hoped for it. And yet the corner stood empty. The promise was for other people.
”It’s not surprising given your advanced maternal age,” she said it gently, but Mercy still winced, “and...some of what you’ve been through.”
Mercy was not now, and had never been, ignorant of certain medical realities. Her entire life since she was a child, had been the understanding of such things, and the painful knowledge that very often what we wish was true directly contradicted what was on the chart. The doctor kept talking, and Pharah squeezed her hand.
Pharah. She’d offered to be the one to carry a child, despite it not being her immediate inclination. Mercy had never been able to find the words to tell her that she needed to be the one to do it. That she had lost her entire family all those years ago, and needed to be related to one other person on this earth, and to know that. Even she didn’t understand it completely, only knew that it had driven her onward. Only knew it kept her coming back to this office to be told that the best they could do was keep going.
The best she could do was ignore the chart.
She should have filled that corner with something other than her own empty hopes. She blinked back the bitter saltwater of her own affliction, and began to walk toward the table.
“Pesach is a story of the impossible,” she sat herself down next to Pharah, but just kept staring at the Seder plate in the middle of the table, “We were slaves. We could not be bringing forth our own freedom. Only God could do that, and there was no reason to believe he would be doing it at all. We had been in bondage for so long. There was no reason to believe God would be giving us the Torah. There was no reason...to believe that we would be here. No reason there should be any Jews left at all.”
Mercy wished one of them would stop her, that one of them would recognize the ramble for what it was was. Mercy barely understood it herself, and anger touched the edge of her mind as she considered all the things God had done but also all the things that he had chosen not to do. He had chosen to allow the Holocaust, and where had their deliverer been? He had allowed the Jews to be blamed and pilloried for the failings of AI technology, in both the fringes and, more quietly, in the larger community. He had allowed them to be shot while they worshipped, or bought groceries, or simply lived their lives. He had allowed Mercy to hear every suspicion and cruelty of the others in the labs and offices, who could not imagine the blonde, blue-eyed woman next to them could possibly take offense. And then, he had allowed Mercy’s house to be bombed, twice in her life, he had allowed her wife to be tortured, he had allowed Tracer to suffer, and he had allowed Mercy to remain childless.
“Why.”
The fifth question, left out of the Haggadah.
She looked around the table at them.
“Why did he save us? And then, sometimes, why did he not? I--” she shook her head, “am never understanding the reasons. Why. I am only always asking. Why.”
It was a why to God, for certain, for all the things she thought but good not bring herself to say, but a why to herself as well. Why had she stayed? Why did she pray every morning, why did she say Shema before she laid down at night? Mercy would have been the first to say that it wasn’t about God, but also she could not have answered what it was about at all. What did she find in her prayers and her study, knowing so keenly that God would not hear her, had not heard her cry for years?
Perhaps that was what drew the Jewish people together--knowing God will not listen, and saying the prayer anyhow. Knowing that to be a Jew was to live in danger, and to wander, but refusing to be anything else. To never stop asking, no matter how silent God became.
Even David, knowing God would punish him with the death of his child, had kept pleading, and fasting, and praying, to the very end. There had always been the chance God would turn back.
“We’re outmanned, outgunned, and those things can keep coming--”
“Didn’t say we was going to win did I?” Tracer’s eyes narrowed and her voice raised, pulling the attention of the room back to her. “Said we was going to fight.”
She looked out over the tightly assembled group packed into the room.
“Some of us will die today. Likely a good number of us. ‘E’s right you know. There’s no reason to believe we can take the advantage over them. Every reason to believe that London is going to be nothing but a pile of rubble and fires at the fag end of it all. But I,” She thrust her finger into her chest, “am not going to give over this city bloody quietly. It’s a part of me, innit? And we’re a part of it. Can’t untie the Oxtons and England, and I don’t mean the bloody Crown, and I don’t mean the bloody government, I mean England.”
Tracer paced across the top of the bar. “I am fighting for England, and for London, and what that is, is every kid running out the schoolyard, every pissed stumble ‘ome, every day of our lives, THAT is London. And England. We are London. We are England. Not anything or anyone official. Not Parliament. Not the fucking royals. You and me, and your dad, and mum, and this grotty little pub, and me footie team, and the greengrocer down the way, and Alfie’s flower stall, THAT is England, and I won’t let anyone, or anything, take this place I love, while I still draw a breath in this world. I won’t ever surrender. East End gets flattened, East End gets the worst of it, but we don’t roll over and give it up. We never ‘ave.”
She stopped for a moment, then nodded. “And I won’t start now. I can’t win, maybe. But I guarantee you, I can give them the worst day of their lives, and even if they stomp over these streets, they’ll remember my name. That’s what we’re fighting for. Not because we can win. Because we fight for what we are.
Mercy gave a weak chuckle and shook her head. “We are telling this story not to answer these questions, but to keep asking them. We are telling it, to give our own answers. God--” her voice caught, barely believing herself in that moment, “--God is revealing himself, in us, all the time. We, we are God’s hands, and God’s eyes, and...his words, when we remember. When we can be seeing the midrash in our lives.”
She took a deep breath.
“Tonight we remember that we are free. Tonight we remember the things that make us slaves.”
____
The smell of brisket filled the air. Pharah’s timing had become more and more impeccable over the years, throwing herself into the celebration of Passover, a love letter to her wife written with the greatest tenderness in pan sauce and flourless chocolate cake. Mercy had always, truthfully, questioned the wisdom of the most serious of plagues being recounted as they were on the edge of the feast. But perhaps that was the point of it. Perhaps it was about being kept waiting for your desires, your hopes. Perhaps it was about wondering if it would ever come.
“Aaron said to Pharoah, the worst would be coming. That God would take the firstborn of the Egyptians, but that the Hebrews would be spared, if they were marking their doors with the blood of a lamb…”
Sacrifice. Something always had to be sacrificed. A lamb. A child. A friend. Perhaps this had been her downfall, that she was unwilling to sacrifice anyone. She would never be Abraham, committing her dearest loves into harm. She wanted to save them all, and she had been punished for this disobedience, all those years ago when Overwatch fell. They had made something ugly of her love. Maybe God had seen her, and decided what the sacrifice would be for her.
Maybe God would take the firstborn, however Mercy felt about it.
It would be easy to blame God for that empty corner of her living room and her heart, for it was all within his power to give. But the things that happen to us are rarely laid at God’s feet alone, and Mercy imagined her own moments of frustration, of foolishness, and wondered, which one was it that had brought her to this moment? If she had wanted to have a child, why then had she spent so long pursuing her work, running through war zones and long nights in laboratories? She should have known there are some things which still have a time limit. She should have known there was no guarantee.
But if God had not wished it, why had he sent her Pharah? It was already to already believe her chance lost, but to show her that sliver of what might be, that green and verdant edge at the horizon of the desert, that was crueler still.
She understood why some of the Hebrews had returned to slavery. It was easier to never know what you were losing. What could be lost.
Tracer twisted against her back uncomfortably for a moment, but focused herself and shook her head. “I don’t understand why the first-born ‘ad to die, God being mostly angry at Pharoah.”
“It was no longer a warning.” Pharah took a sip of wine. “There had been nine warnings. It was a punishment.”
“‘Ardly seems fair to punish the lot of them for a bit of governmental wankery. Some ordinary Egyptian’s not keeping the ‘ebrews enslaved.”
“But I doubt they protested the murder of the Hebrew sons. It is a kind of blood for blood. That they had so many chances to avoid that is a mercy in itself, God would have been right to kill their children first off. Justice. ”
“No, isn’t justice. Revenge. Eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, Fareeha. Think you’d be defending your countrymen a bit more.”
Pharah smiled and leaned toward Tracer. “Some of us are not compelled to excuse our country’s imperialism, and violence.”
Tracer leaned back against the couch. “Alright, fair cop and well ‘it, but I am still right about the firstborn, Fareeha.”
Her own Hilell and Shammai, ever arguing, ever debating, ever loving each other. She had watched that grow and bloom, too, over the work of years, step by step as they wandered together through an uncertain land. She had doubted, when she first fell in love with Pharah, that anything other than the glue that was Mercy would keep them together, but that had been arrogance. Tracer was more loveable than she seemed at first blush, and Pharah more loving than most would have imagined, and the two of them had grown together, though never in quite the same direction.
Tracer was right, of course, that there was something unjust in taking something so precious, for a casual sin. Pharah was right, of course, that the sins of the community must be borne by the community, too, and that there had been so many chances to turn back. Did God ever owe them an apology, for such rashness? Or worse, for such calculation? It was one thing to act in anger, it was another to take something so precious so calmly.
Perhaps the worst of it was that he was not angry at Mercy at all. Perhaps it was only that simple, calculated punishment that led her to this day, to the taste of saltwater and horseradish even more bitter on her lips than she had believed possible. It purged her mouth of the sweetness of the wine and the richness of the meat, leaving only that acrid dryness in its wake.
Perhaps the worst of it was how angry Mercy was with him.
The plagues passed. Freedom was had, for some, but even as the meal passed in front of her, Mercy kept thinking only of her own bondage, of the unanswered cry to God. She saw it in the empty corner beside her, the shake at Tracer’s hand as she drew the wine to her lips, in the way Pharah had carefully assigned the seating and set the table, in the way Winston avoided her gaze as they spoke of Yocheved’s baby, in the way Dva spoke to her so gently. The way Emily looked at her and Tracer both.
In this victory of a meal, Mercy tasted only the failures of this past year. Miriam’s Well kept them alive in the desert, but Mercy began to wonder if it hadn’t been the bitter alkaline of survival, and not the sweet cool of living.
The blessing over the wine buzzed from her lips without a thought, and the door opened. Next to her, sitting at that empty corner, was Elijah’s cup. The cup filled with the hope and promise that some year, everything she had been waiting for would come through that door. The cup was an outstretched hand to God in the darkness, whispering about trust. Every year, she had held out that hand. She held it out after her parents were killed. Held it out after Overwatch fell. Held it out as she was in exile from the medical community. She kept looking ahead in the dark, trusting what she could not see.
She believed.
To believe in Elijah. To believe that hope could always walk right through the door, that it could sit at your table and drink your glass of wine. To believe that there was a chance to see the dream fulfilled, to touch your feet on that Promised Land.
Next year, in Jerusalem.
It was too much to ask. It was too deep a failure, this year, marked by all of her insufficiencies, unable to have a child, unable to save Tracer, throwing herself at these same things again and again, the outcome never changing. She’d gotten no closer to getting pregnant. Tracer’s health continued to deteriorate.
Not even taking the moment to excuse herself, Mercy got up from the table and ran into the small, tight powder room, the one Pharah had barely managed to niggle into the plans. She pulled herself into the bright white of that room, and she cried, and she cursed, in every language she knew, that God had kept everything from her, that God was punishing her for nothing, that God had judged her for her failings and ignored his own. She was angry. She kept that anger close to her like a flame, even as the immense darkness of her own sorrow crept in. She forgot there even was a Seder, in the other room, saw only the burning, everlasting bush that was her that was God that was the anger and love of all her people, all those years.
There was a knock at the door, and Mercy wiped at her eyes. Pharah had been so tender and good, through all of this, and the last thing she needed was--
“It’s Emily.”
Mercy had not expected that, and for a moment, it disarmed her so thoroughly that she opened the door.
There was nothing exchanged, for a moment. Emily would say that she was no great mind, and no great judge, and no great hero, comparing herself unfavorably to the company Tracer generally kept. She would say this never seeing her own gift for knowing the kindest thing to say, for looking at the faces of people as she did her class of children and opening her own heart to them.
“It’s just this year, Angela.” Emily nodded. “I know.”
It was not a question, nor a complaint, nothing but an acknowledgment of the thing that had been Mercy’s own plague, sent by God, or, at the very least, not evaded by him. Mercy nodded, tears still streaming down her face.
“Do you know Moses died, never seeing the Promised land? He was going through...and a mistake, meant God would never let him see it. He was kept from the promise of God.”
“Promised Land. I suppose it would be easy for a place you never see to be perfect.” Emily leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t know much about the Torah, of course, but I remember the story hardly ending with happily ever after.”
Mercy shook her head. “They were….argumentative, and lost faith, and difficult.” she sniffled. “But they were not in the desert.”
“It’s hard, to be Moses, isn’t it Angela? You go among people who don’t understand you, you try to lead them in whatever way you can, and for all that, you feel you will never find home. God barely listens to you, but you stay all the same. I think you’re brave for it.”
“I’m not--”
“Aye, you are. The moral compass for as long as I’ve known them, and for longer than that, I know. Lena and Fareeha would say so, as well.” Emily sighed. “This year has been forty for all of us, but for you I know most of all. But,” Emily looked back over her shoulder and stared at Tracer, “It’ll end, won’t it? Even Moses stopped walking.” She turned back around and wiped the tears from her eyes. “The Promised Land is just another beginning. But I don’t know the Torah very well.”
Mercy looked up at her. “You are knowing it well enough.”
“I’m sorry, about the baby. Cried over that myself, me and Lena never being able.” She sighed. “I just keep walking. What else can we do?”
“I’m sorry I,” Mercy closed her eyes, “I am failing you both.”
Emily put her arm around Mercy’s shoulder. “No. You could never. You’re taking us on the journey.”
“I should go back, to the table. I am being--”
“We’ll keep going, aye. Eventually, we’ll find the end of it, whatever that is.”
Hand in hand with Emily, Mercy walked back to the table. She was no clearer or calmer on the subject of God, of what he was denying her, of what he was denying all of them. But she saw the faces of her fellow travellers more clearly. It was not only Moses who made the journey. It was not only Moses who felt lost along the way, and it was not only Moses who died reaching for that unattainable goal, who strived and hoped against everything.
They were together. She did not find the Promised Land, but she found their hands in hers.
She poured the final cup of wine. All things come to an end. Even the desert.
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Who do you save, John? (Bit 2)
Bit 1 | Bit 2
In a rush again.
This is Fandomversary Fic Five - for @5hadow-alpha who asked for ‘Shopping and any of the Tracy brothers (but maybe Virgil?😉)’. Well, you got all five bros plus Jeff in this one and a weird take on shopping, but it is fic and I hope you enjoy it :D
-o-o-o-
Alan stood in front of the mirror in his change room and stared at himself.
It was a nice suit. Not really his thing, more a necessary evil, but it made him look good. He’d chosen a lighter coloured suit than his brothers. Lighter than even Gordon, who had always preferred the brighter colours.
He straightened the jacket and his eyes caught on the painting on the wall behind him.
Scott had stood there.
Alan blinked, remembering his big brother smiling at him in the mirror, standing in for their father as his youngest shouldered on his first suit jacket.
Okay, technically it wasn’t his first, he couldn’t be a Tracy without being familiar with suits, but that day had been special. Along with the suit, it had seen the fitting of his first IR uniform.
And Scott had been there. Just the two of them. It had been special.
Now he was here with all his brothers…and his father.
It was special again, but for entirely different reasons.
“You okay in there, Allie?”
Scott. Of course, it was Scott.
“Be right out.”
“Okay.”
Being the youngest of five apparently orphaned brothers had its challenges.
Being the youngest of five brothers who had just rescued their father from the depths of space after eight years in hell had even more.
Not that he would ever wish for the alternative. It was amazing to have his father back. It was almost beyond believable.
But Dad had disappeared when he was eleven and memories were fragile. A lot had happened while he was gone and during that time, Alan had turned to Scott, to Virgil, to all his brothers in some way. And while he was the youngest and technically needed the most parenting. He wasn’t that young anymore. He was eighteen. An adult.
It wasn’t that Dad was a stranger. He was still Dad. He still loved him…desperately. But Dad hadn’t been here. Even if it hadn’t been by choice, he still hadn’t been here. Scott was the one who stood with him. Virgil was the one who plastered his scrapes. Johnny was the one who helped him with his homework. Gordon had taught him to swim.
And if he was totally honest with himself, it had always been that way as long as he could remember.
Dad was Dad and he loved him.
But Scott was the one who was there.
Alan sighed and let his shoulders drop before reaching for the door.
Sure enough, Scott was in the presentation room fully dressed and waiting. His big brother could strip and change clothes faster than anyone he knew.
Of course, their everyday clothes were designed that way, specially seamed for robotics to literally pull them from their bodies at high speed and replace them with their uniforms, but this was different and Scott was just damned fast.
His big brother’s suit was a dark blue. All his suits were blue. Various shades, but in the majority deep blue or blue-grey. It was a Scott Tracy symbol. Featured on the front of GQ and Variety, the trend for blue suits was higher than ever and all his brother’s fault.
Mostly because he wore them so well. Alan was baffled as to how he kept himself so sharp and neat. Alan looked at his pants the wrong way and the creases kinked and the crotch rode up. Scott was just...pristine.
Alan screwed up his nose at him.
Of course, that only prompted his big brother to stride over and straighten his collar. “Looking good there, Allie.”
Alan batted his hands away. “I got this, Scott.”
The smirk he received for that was totally unjustified. “Just making sure.” Blue eyes so much like his own sparkled at him.
Alan poked his tongue out.
“Mature, Allie.” But his brother was grinning.
Another door opened behind them and Virgil was fumbling his jacket on. This time it was a charcoal black, quite a step from the deep purple ensemble he had somehow managed to pull off the last time he bought one of these outfits.
His artist brother had obviously put some thought in this time because under the charcoal was a shirt of a very deep green. It did something with his brother’s eyes. Alan wasn’t sure what or why, but his bro looked good.
Virgil buttoned his suit jacket and stood in front of Alan, eyeing him from head to toe.
Alan mock glared at him. “Do I meet with your approval?”
One callused hand reached over and fiddled with his collar.
Oh, for crying out loud. “Virg!”
Virgil grinned and snorted at him, the hand switching to his shoulder and squeezing gently. “You look great, Allie.”
Hmph. Alan looked at him sideways, not willing to give any ground, but then...hmph. “You’re not too bad yourself.”
One dark eyebrow arched and Virgil smiled. “Thanks.” He opened his mouth to say more, but both Gordon and John emerged at the same time.
“Gordon, where are your shoes?” Scott’s exasperation in this building was not a new thing.
The aquanaut shrugged. “Forgot them.”
Alan looked down to find his brother wearing his everyday casual slip-on sandals. Gordon sported a charcoal suit similar to Virgil’s and Alan had no doubt their big brother had stuck his opinion in onto Gordon’s choice as it was blatantly not a Gordon choice.
But then Gordon choices were usually eyeball scorchers, so it was probably a good thing. The fish was being catered to, however, as the shirt that accompanied the suit was ocean blue and had a subtle texture to it. Alan had no doubt that if he got closer, he would discover some kind of octopus of dolphin or some other sea life emblem worked into the fabric.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Virgil had definitely had a hand in John’s outfit. Not blue, not charcoal, but more a deep turquoise, his fellow space brother was tall and austere with his gold shirt. That colour combination had Virgil written all over it simply because John couldn’t be trusted to compile his own.
The brown and orange combination from five years ago had scarred all of them.
Standing beside his brothers he had to say they were all looking good.
John started playing with his tablet again.
What on earth was he doing?
That train of thought was interrupted by his father emerging from the changing rooms.
All his brothers automatically shifted to some kind of attention.
This was the first time they had seen their father in a suit in over eight years.
Dad straightened. He was ever so tall. Scott and John obviously inherited his height, but neither had inherited his build. Only Virgil had that, even if Virg was only a little taller than Gords.
Their father was a force unto himself, even injured and still showing the signs of his isolation, the man had presence.
He was kind of daunting at the best of times. In a suit...man, Alan could see how his father had made his place in business. He oozed charisma.
At least Scott had come by it honestly.
That thought froze his mind a moment. Scott’s charisma was different, lighter, less forbidding unless he was fully in command. There was a gentle side to his big brother.
He knew there was a softer side to his father, too, but standing here and seeing him in that grey suit...the man was formidable.
Beside Alan, Scott shuffled his feet and swallowed audibly. “Good choice, Dad.”
Their father smiled a little and tilted his head. “Only took Virgil’s advice.”
Of course, everyone turned to stare at the engineer.
“What?”
“Adding fashion designer to your resume, Virg?” Gordon was grinning.
Virgil scrunched up his face. “Well, someone has to. You certainly don’t have a clue.”
“What was wrong with my choice? I liked it.”
“It was bright yellow, Gordon.”
“Yeah, one of my favourite colours.”
“Not the best for a board meeting, though, is it?”
Gordon shrugged. “Depends.”
“On what?” Virg was glaring at the fish.
“On taste and other people’s lack of it.”
“Not yours?”
“Virgil-“
“Hey!” Scott’s voice cut them both off. “That’s enough.”
And it was, because William and his assistants were hovering, waiting to check the fit of each suit.
Alan found himself up on a stand, an assistant with the name ‘Timothy’ pinned to his chest. He didn’t say much, but his fingers were nimble checking seams and lengths.
“Thanks for doing this.” A little politeness never hurt.
Timothy looked up at him, but didn’t say anything. He stared at moment, eyes appraising, before turning back to his work.
Oh, well, not everyone wanted to talk.
Alan let him do his job from that point on.
On his right Gordon squawked. “Ow, that’s human you’re stabbing.”
“I am so sorry, sir. That was accidental.” A pause. “Could you please hold still, sir.”
“Gordon.” His brother’s name wandered over in warning from the other side of the room where Scott was standing with his arms stretched out as yet another assistant fiddled with his suit.
Beside him, their father snorted. “Gordon still can’t sit still?”
Scott rolled his eyes. “That’s never going to happen.”
Dad grinned over at Gordy as his fish brother protested. “Hey! I seem to remember an older brother with a similar problem. Solved it with rocket fuel.”
“He’s got you there, son.” His father shifted his cane as his assistant fiddled with his pant length.
Scott rolled his eyes again. “Well, at least we both came by it honestly.”
That prompted a snort from Virgil on his other side.
Perhaps it was the family banter that distracted Alan, perhaps Timothy was just that good, but when the gun appeared, none of them were ready.
-o-o-o-
Next
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#Alan Tracy#nuttys fandomversary#Scott Tracy#Virgil Tracy#John Tracy#Gordon Tracy
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DMC WEEK DAY 4: Food | Style | Music ( Nero and V )
~ This one's super late because work happens. But, I hope you enjoy my fourth entry to the DMC WEEK, starring Nero and V.
~ Mentions of early loss, denial, and grief. Otherwise, this oneshot is SFW.
***
It all started when his father passed away.
Of course, being a child of only six, Nero didn't know what it meant when his mother gently told him that his father has gone to a bigger, much better place. After all, to the child, it only looked like his father was sleeping, and that he'll wake up in a few minutes. He didn't know why all the people were wearing black that day, and he never asked his mother why she was crying.
What he did ask was why they were taking his father away, locking him in a box, and putting him deep, deep, down into a hole he can't reach.
Where are you taking him? Stop it! Open the box! He can't breathe!
He could still remember those words he screamed at the people who took his pa away. He could still remember how he kicked the man who closed the lid of the casket, and he could still clearly remember how his mother took him and held him as tightly as she could as she cried.
A few days has passed and he began to notice how his classmates regarded and looked at him. They also treated him as if he was a malnourished and abandoned puppy who needed care and attention. He also noticed how his mother became more and more distant. She rarely smiled, rarely talked. Nero noticed she no longer sings, and he knew perfectly well that it was her most favorite thing to do. She was an opera singer, after all. And his father, a violinist in the orchestra who played for her concerts.
Nonetheless, Nero waited for the day when his father would return. He couldn't wait to see him play the violin once more.
But, that was twenty years ago. And the child within Nero's heart has vanished into nothingness, along with all those happy memories he spent with his beloved father.
That night when he was just coming home from one of his gigs in that old, Fortuna club where indie bands perform for exposure rather than money, Nero heard a,... rather strange tune. Small, almost drowning in all the other noises of the city, but a familiar sound, nevertheless. And it actually piqued Nero's interest. He followed the source of the sound, its familiar feeling getting stronger and stronger as it got louder by the second. And the moment he reached the origin of that sound, he saw a lone, dark haired man playing the violin in the middle of the plaza.
A skinny dark - haired man with black, smoke – like swirling tattoos all over his upper body whose only company was his pet bird perched next to an open suitcase, containing a few coins and two dollars.
Nero snickered. The way that man played his old violin,... he would never attract a large crowd looking like that! His worn - out leather goth outfit would never turn heads, at least with the younger generation, and his music was just out of style! Paganini? That's so old school! No wonder only old people cared enough to drop money into his suitcase while the majority of the people just passed him by without even a simple glance.
But, that sound,...
For a moment there, Nero thought something tugged at his heartstrings, something fleeting and evasive like a small butterfly, which was almost impossible because nothing in the world could ever make Nero soft. Not with everything he's been through since he was a child. Nothing could make Nero cry, not now and never.
But, there, just now,...
The man's accurate and yet fluid bowing technique, his melancholic expression, his stance,...
His,... music,...
All of a sudden, a face materialized in Nero's mind. A face that never haunted him, not even once. It was only for a few seconds but, it made the youth's knees wobbly. He suddenly felt weak, like his energy was sapped by an unknown creature, and he felt his sweat run cold.
No, it couldn't be. Impossible,...
Pushing his inconvenient thoughts to the back of his mind, Nero turned away and went straight back home.
The next night, the man was still there, still playing his old violin but, with a different tune. Elgar, this time.
And the moment he heard the soft melody of Elgar's music, Nero saw that face again. The face he didn't know he would see again.
Who,... is this man?
"Hey," Nero said as he walked closer towards the mysterious violinist. " ... your talent is wasted here. Go to Europe. You'd earn more there performing in concerts than here." He nodded towards the open suitcase, now only containing a few cents, which was not enough to even buy himself a proper dinner. "Or, if you want, you can join the band. You know how to use an effects rack, right?"
The man, despite stopping mid performance just to listen to Nero, didn't say any word. His green eyes glistening, his lips slightly parted, the man only smiled a bit, as if in understanding, simply nodded, and continued where he left off with his music.
Nero shook his head. "You're weird." He spoke, turned away, and chuckled as he walked away. "Suit yourself."
For the next few nights, Nero made sure to visit that same spot in the plaza to see the same mysterious man with his violin. He started to observe the man for longer periods of time, and during those moments, he found out that the man actually never left that place.
Just behind him next to the fountain were pieces of filthy cardboard boxes joined together and flattened as a makeshift bed. There was a metal cane lying in it, and a worn out black stuffed cat that was probably not black before. The man was, indeed, utterly broke and homeless, and yet, there was something in the way he moved, the way he smiled when he played the violin, and the way he finished those rather difficult pieces with such flourish, and, well, a style of his own. It's as if the man was content with his very humble way of living, even more content than Nero ever was with his own, who actually lived a wealthy life with his mother and step dad.
He realized this the next evening when he went back to that same spot and saw the man playing his instrument once more.
He,... actually looked like he wanted nothing else but to share his music with everyone. And he sure was dedicated to his talent despite those people ignoring him day by day.
It reminded Nero of him,...
You can't enjoy music if you only play for yourself, that man used to say. And the moment Nero allowed this tiny, fleeting emotional weakness, those memories of him went back to his head, one after the other, flooding his entire mind until he could see nothing but him.
Of him teaching Nero how to read basic musical notes. Of him teaching him the basics of the violin. Of him telling him amazing stories of his European travels.
Of him performing his most favorite piece in front of him and his mother,...
Of him collapsing one day and telling Nero it was nothing. Of him having difficulty getting up from his bed the next day. Of him calling him to his room that one night and telling him that he would always be his Brilliant Fantasy, and that he would live on in everyone's music,...
Of him leaving Nero alone in the world, with false hopes that he would still return...
Just then, Nero snapped from his reverie back to reality and saw the mysterious man sitting dejectedly on his makeshift bed of old cardboard boxes. He could literally feel his tears threatening to come out of his eyes at the pitiable sight and those memories combined but, he refused to let them fall. Not yet.
Instead, he went to the nearest bakery, bought a cake and a loaf of French bread, and went back to the mysterious man's spot. He knelt down, took the food from his bag, and handed it to the violinist, who looked at him with such awe, confusion, and wonder.
Nero smiled sheepishly. "Ahh, thought you might be hungry. First time I've seen you stop in the middle of a performance and slump like that."
At first, the man hesitated but, Nero's kindness and insistence on feeding him, combined with the sweet and delicious aroma of fresh bread straight out of the oven of a bake shop, has proven to be too irresistible. The man took, almost snatched, the bread from Nero's hands and started devouring it like he hasn't eaten for three days. And as he ate, Nero noticed the tears in the man's gentle green eyes.
Nero chuckled and took a water bottle from his duffel bag. He offered it to the man, who was actually on the verge of choking. He carefully placed the box of cake next to the metal cane and the filthy stuffed cat, and asked, "What's your name?"
The man voraciously gulped down the water, wiped his lips with his tattooed arm, and gestured towards his suitcase. It actually has a huge letter, "V", embossed on it, he just didn't notice it before because he only looked at its contents.
"So, you're V, huh?" Nero asked and offered his hand, which the man took a bit awkwardly. "I'm Nero. I live just two blocks away from here." The man nodded and took his hand back a bit hastily. "You, uhh, how should I say this,... "
Nero wanted to say the words but, he suddenly felt weird and awkward. He must've looked like a complete weirdo in the eyes of the passersby to suddenly start a conversation with a complete stranger but, he just couldn't contain himself.
Yes, he felt really uncomfortable, but Nero also felt the urge to just say whatever's in his mind. Like he has to unload something that’s been pushing him down for a very, very long time.
"Don't get this the wrong way but," Nero began. " ... you, ahh, reminded me of my,... father,... a lot."
There! He said the words.
And V? He only seemed interested in what Nero has to say.
"I don't know and I can't express the feeling but, the way you played the violin, it was unlike anything I've seen." Nero added, ignoring V's pet bird who started pecking away at the box of cake. "It, you, made me remember him. He left. I mean, he passed away a long time ago. And I never even got the chance to properly say goodbye." Nero whispered as he scratched the back of his head, feeling the unshed tears threatening to spill. "But, I was a kid back then, and I never even realized he's gone for good until the next few years. So, I gave up the violin, flunked my classes, assembled my own band, made my mom furious, you know the stuff. And the rest is history, I guess." Nero sighed and smiled at V as the violinist took another bite off his bread. "And I guess I was such a bitch to not admit my feelings but, I do miss him. A lot, actually. But, you made me see him. Again."
For a moment, V stared at Nero with such confusion, until the youth lightly bumped his fist against his bony arm. "So, uhh, thanks. I guess."
And with those words, Nero stood, gave a nasty glance at the bird who was happily pecking at the strawberry cake he bought for its master, and turned away. Chuckling, he confessed, "Old man even called me his Brilliant Fantasy. Don't know what the hell that means but I sure wanna hear him play the violin again." Nero turned back to V and waved. "So, I guess I'll be seeing you, then, V!"
However, before Nero could walk away, he saw this man called V standing up, holding the violin, and looking at him with such an unreadable facial expression.
And with utter determination, he moved his bow against the strings of the violin and started playing,...
... his father's most favorite piece.
That piece,...
Of course!
"You, Nero, are my Brilliant Fantasy. Remember that always, and I shall live on in people's music."
I shall live on in people's music
Nero laughed and swore under his breath, wiping away at the fresh bout of tears that finally broke through him the moment V played Hubay's masterpiece. And in that moment of musical majesty, he saw himself back again at their old living room.
And right before him stood his father instead of V, his facial features ever so gentle, his music ever so enlightening to hear.
This piece, both romantic, and passionate, and soft, and fiery at the same time, described his father so well. He was a very passionate musician, his love for the violin giving him enough strength to make his music transcend to everyone's hearts. And yet, in that strength of sheer talent, he was soft and gentle. He guided Nero with love and patience, and taught him everything he knew.
And his father called him his Brilliant Fantasy.
I shall live on in people's music.
Were the words Nero heard until the last notes of the piece.
Until he saw his father waving at him from a distance.
V,... made the impossible happen.
He saw his father again. And now,...
... he was able to properly say goodbye.
Finally.
He couldn't find V the next day, and the day after that, and the next. In fact, it's as if the man, his violin, his suitcase with the V in it, his greedy pet bird, his metal cane, his black stuffed cat, and his cardboard boxes all vanished without a trace. Maybe he started travelling on his own. Maybe he's in Europe now and doing his own concerts like what Nero suggested. Or in an emo or goth band who rocks the effects rack, or even better, the electric violin. Who knows?
All he knew was that he owed V a lot, and that he hoped to see him play the violin once more.
***
@dmcweek
***
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Karen Renford Comes Home
Just a drabble exploring a side character who is a whumper in a class all her own. I’m not tagging this as directly part of the Kauri story, as it’s not. Just a character study. Takes place within my variation on the Box Boy universe - original idea from @sweetwhumpandhellacomf.
Who is Karen Renford when she’s not at work? She’s this.
CW: Referenced violence and physical abuse, forced feeding/starvation, dehumanization, pet whump. Referenced/discussed whump of a minor/foster care whump (though none occurs directly within the piece, it is discussed from the POV of the whumper and could be triggering, stay safe)
Contains a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it reference to one of my favorite Whump storylines, @comfy-whumpee‘s Alistair and Ellis stories, and this excellent drabble I’ve returned to over and over.
Also includes Henry, who belongs to @spiffythespook and is used with permission, and her OC Wright Farling is referenced but does not appear directly.
When Karen Renford comes home at the end of the day, it’s Dex who greets her at the door.
Her oldest Boy isn’t a boy at all, of course; Dex turned 39 this year, making him only a few years younger than Karen herself. He’s dressed in a simple green sweater with jeans, tall and slim - she insists her Boys maintain their physical fitness even past the point they function as entertainment for friends and other guests - with short dark hair starting to pepper with silver and a hint of crow’s feet beginning around the edges of his dark brown eyes.
He wears a simple green leather collar with his name stamped at the front just below his Adam’s apple, as always. He has one to match every color of shirt he is allowed to wear, and he never forgets to wear the right one.
Dex has his hand out for her coat before she’s even fully crossed the threshold, and smiles for her just the way she likes; a slight expression of warmth, nothing false or overly effusive.
The expression never reaches his eyes.
Karen grants him a peck on each cheek, watching him gently lay her coat over his arm with a practiced, experienced grace. “Good evening, Dex. I assume no one started any obvious fires today?”
His smile might widen, imperceptibly, at the humor; it might not.
Dex’s only answer to the question is a nod, stepping back and out of her way as she enters the foyer. Pulling sleek leather gloves off her fingers one by one, Karen lets her eyes skim over the dark custom-ordered wood doorframes and cream-colored walls, the grand staircase that wraps up to the second floor.
Minimalist but with a subtle, simple lived-in look and feel.
She has worked hard for every inch of her success, signed up with Whumpees-R-Us fresh out of college and was part of the neurological engineering team to develop the first truly successful training protocol, and Karen Renford will never apologize for the wealth on quiet display.
She earned every cent.
Her position as Director of Client Success now is really a way to help her make her first steps towards retirement, not that she could ever imagine doing any such thing. Karen loves her job. She’s good at her job.
Every job Whumpees-R-Us has ever placed before her, Karen Renford has set new standards that the other employees must then meet.
But she is proudest of the Boys she has taken a personal stake in, starting with Dex himself. Dex was one of the first ten success stories, and she’d been the one to guide him right from his first day at the Facility (it was a different building, back then; much smaller, more cramped, but you make do and excel with what you have).
Dex had been her Christmas bonus, when it became clear that the training to make him seen and not heard had been entirely too successful and his intended owner returned him.
Dex hasn't spoken a word since the day, twenty years ago, when 19-year-old Dex (just called 10, before they changed to a random numbering convention), had slapped 24-year-old Karen Renford across the face and said you'll never shut me up, you fucking bitch, I'll kill you myself!
Now he smiles, with an empty gentle affection, as he takes her gloves and packs them away within the pockets of her soft coat.
He's a raging success, as far as she is concerned, in his pristine contented silence. Never so much as an eyelid flicker to betray any evidence of the thoughts she is sure she took away from him a very long time ago.
"Henry?" She asks, craning her head slightly to look around.
Dex gestures with one arm gracefully towards the kitchen.
"Ah, lovely. Did he invite himself, or did Seb ask him?"
Dex holds up one finger, then steps over to the foyer's closet, hanging her coat with nimble fingers, pressing it lightly with his hands to ensure there will be no wrinkles. Then he turns back to her and signs, quickly, fingers flying through names and words fast enough that even Karen must sometimes ask him to slow down.
This time, she keeps up, and nods. "Good. I'm glad they get on so well. Sweet boy." She moves in that direction, then pauses, turning back to Dex, who raises one thin dark eyebrow in question.
"Where is Peter?"
Dex's mouth quirks to the side in what might be meant as either smile or sneer. He signs again, curtly, ending the sentence with a flourish of his hands.
Karen laughs.
It's not much of a sound, short and quiet and a laugh devoid of affection or warmth, but it is a laugh nonetheless. "Well, if he learned his lesson, I don't mind him sitting with Henry. How is his back healing since the caning?"
Dex shrugs, and Karen moves away without asking for elaboration. If the careful set of his shoulders - and the tense expressionlessness of his face - relaxes when her back is fully turned to him, Karen does not see it.
She finds the other three in the kitchen, right where Dex said they would be.
Sebastian is her beauty - her personal chef and second Box Boy, her second large-scale bonus after she introduced a widely successful and lucrative change in price-per-position for the Romantic/Companion poses. Owners were buying their Boys (and Babes) for the purpose regardless, why not add some fun and extra profit into the options available?
She'd received Sebastian - and a promotion - for that one.
Sebastian stands at the counter chopping vegetables with a sharp chef's knife nearly a blur in his hands. At 34, Sebastian's youthful looks - blond hair with a cowlick, a sharp jaw, hazel eyes - have begun to deepen into a sharper handsomeness she appreciates, at least aesthetically.
Karen's never cared for much beyond aesthetics. In that, she is a rare pet owner indeed.
"Good afternoon, Sebastian," Karen calls.
"Good afternoon, Madam," Sebastian replies without missing a beat. "Filet mignon, tonight?"
"Sounds perfect."
She pauses.
There are two more young men in Karen Renford's house, and both of them sit with their backs to her, and neither of them has moved.
One is her Peter, the third Boy at 24 and a gift from a very good friend who had, she thought sometimes, played a bit of a prank by buying her a Boy who still needed correction - and Henry…
Ah, Henry.
Her foster son, 17 years old, sits with his head bent before an array of worksheets, chewing thoughtfully on the end of a pencil as he considers the formula he's working on.
Henry is not one of her Boys, but he is hers. And she will be soon correcting and removing all that need for independence, that sense of certainty in a future that Karen does not command. Once Henry turns eighteen, he will understand his place in her household is a permanent one.
But Henry is not the one she focuses on now.
"Peter," Karen says, with a hint of reproach. "Your Madam is home. Show some respect."
Peter, all soft brown hair with a hint of curl and a hopeless cowlick and warm brown eyes, pushes himself out of his chair quickly, turning to face her and falling to his knees into Position Two. His collar is a silver chain and she can still cut his breath with a single hard yank, and everyone here has seen Peter pass out at her hands before.
"S-sorry, Madam," He says softly, his voice trembling. She loves a good tremble, and her friend must have chosen Peter with the way his voice can shake so beautifully in mind. "I was, um, I didn’t hear you-"
"I know, beautiful boy. Your hearing hasn't been the same since that last repair, has it? Still. You can show more respect than that, don't you think?"
Peter swallows and nods, leaning further over until his face is parallel with the floor. She sees him wince as the motion pulls at the bandages layered over the vicious caning he'd received at her hands the day before. The sight makes her smile, but she says nothing until finally he bends completely in half, breathing harshly, to rest his forehead on the floor.
She does not require Dex or Sebastian to fall into Respect any longer. They haven't needed it in years.
Peter, though, still needs reminders.
Karen would never admit how much she enjoys providing them.
She waits until his breathing is ragged with the ache before she nudges him with the rounded end of one perfect black shoe. Peter swallows, hesitates perhaps a fraction, and kisses the pointed toe before returning to his position.
She nudges him with the other, and he repeats the motion on that shoe, too.
She lets out a slow, soft breath.
Karen requires little more than aesthetics from her boys - but there is something to be said for the curve of a neck and the flush in the face of someone doing something they truly do not want to do.
Peter is imperfect - but Karen is absolutely certain Wright requested him that way when he bought him for her. It had been such a lovely Christmas, that year...
“There, don’t you feel better, doing what you are meant for, Peter?” She asks in a soft voice.
“Yes, Madam,” Peter replies almost too quickly. She’s not convinced he even heard her, to be honest - he really is nearly deaf in one ear as a result of some defiance during his time in the Facility.
But the respect is what matters, and the willingness to literally kneel and kiss her feet.
Henry never moves, doesn't even turn his head. He keeps working, scribbling some formulas on the notebook he keeps for workpaper before carefully writing the answer in the provided space on the worksheet.
Henry has been living with her for not quite half his life, now. Seeing Peter kiss her feet is in no way unusual for him. He and Peter had gotten closer than she liked recently; Henry had been tasked with assisting her with his last caning and it seemed to have put the correct emotional distance back between them.
She hoped. She might need to speak with Dex and have them watched to be sure.
"You may rise and attend Henry," Karen says and moves carefully, casually away. Peter waits until she is over with Sebastian in the prep area before he gets back to his feet, sitting with delicate slowness back down at the table, face pale and teeth gritted. Karen wonders if blood will begin to spot through the back of his shirt again, if he will bleed through his bandages.
She loves the look of fresh red blood on a perfect white shirt.
The same year Wright had gifted her with Peter, she had given him a painting she had had commissioned of his favorite son at the time, painted from the back with bright red spots in a perfect aesthetically pleasing pattern, like a constellation of learning what you are.
Wright had been delighted.
Honestly, if either of them had been remotely attracted to the other, they could have made quite a marriage.
Sebastian hums to himself as he works, not quite tunelessly, his own collar a shining black leather that sits against the pale skin of his throat like he was born wearing it. He's already poured Karen a glass of her favorite dry red wine, and she lifts it to take a sip, eyeing the array of ingredients.
If Sebastian stands straighter when she looks at him, moves more carefully, if he smiles less and looks nervously eager to please her… it is only what she deserves. What she worked very, very hard for.
"How was class today, darling?" Karen asks Henry, turning her eyes to him.
Henry finally looks up, a little dazed and daydreamy from the math he's still working through. "It was good," he says, a touch curtly. One day he won't be curt, Karen thinks. He will have none of that left in him.
He is very nearly perfect now.
Nearly… but not quite.
"Lovely. Will you be singing tomorrow night for my gala? There are some very influential people in the industry who will be there. I'd love to show off what I've paid for."
And watch those pet lib assholes squirm knowing that you'll be mine, in just a few months. Mine like my other Boys. Mine for life.
Henry smiles for her, and she does love his smile. She'll be sure to train him to smile more often than he does now. Smile even through tears. "Of course, ma'am. Whatever you need me for. The black suit?"
"Hm, the blue one. I'm wearing blue. Vincent Shield will be making an appearance, isn't that exciting?"
"He hates your company, though," Henry says doubtfully. "Doesn't he? I saw it in an interview. And his girlfriend really hates you."
"That's half the fun of inviting him, darling," Karen replies, taking another sip. “The wine is warm down her throat and through her shoulders. “The studio head for his next project is a personal friend of mine. He needs to maintain ties with the important people in the industry.”
“His industry, or yours?”
“Both.”
"If you say so," Henry mutters, doubtfully.
She'll have him broken of that, she thinks. She detests muttering, but one must expect a certain amount of it in teenagers. Once he signs his contract, she’ll ensure that his handlers - and he will have two assigned personally to him, nothing but the best for Karen Renford’s Boys - know that he must never mutter or doubt her again.
She wonders, idly, what Henry will look like with a shock collar around his neck. All her Boys start with shock collars - they earn the pretty ones they wear now. By the time they’re good enough for her, they see anything as a mercy compared to that.
Karen lets her gaze move idly around her kitchen as she luxuriates in the simple daydream of her Henry, her good little son, as a Box Boy that meets all her expectations and then exceeds them.
He is not a crier - she loves that about him. She wonders if he will cry when they ink the barcode into his skin.
She spots something out of place - not at all where it should be - and holds up one hand. Sebastian freezes immediately, his eyes moving to her face. "Madam?"
"Why is there a small salad bowl by itself?" Karen points at the garden salad nestled in a spot nearly hidden by the angle where fridge and counter meet.
She sees, all at once, both Peter and Sebastian tense up. Then she understands.
"Ah. For Peter. He’s doing it again.”
"Peter was a vegan before he came into service," Sebastian says softly. "He struggled with meat at lunch again today and I thought rather than force him to feel stomach pain-"
"Were you trained to think, Sebastian?" Karen's voice drops into a deep chill.
Sebastian stills even further, slowly setting the chef's knife down. "No, Madam. I was not."
"I did not think so. Peter," Karen says, pitching her voice louder. Peter doesn't react at first, until Henry leans over to nudge him and point in Karen's direction.
"Y-yes, Madam?" Peter turns to look at her, and his hands shake where they are laid flat on the table.
"You will eat two servings of filet mignon for dinner tonight, and nothing else. If you cannot keep it down, you will eat nothing but the nutrient drink for three days. Sebastian, dispose of the salad. Peter will have none."
Peter and Sebastian meet eyes, briefly, and them both of them nod.
"My apologies, Madam," Sebastian says softly. "Peter did not ask. It was my idea."
Peter looks over at Seb, worriedly. "No, I-"
"It was my idea entirely," Sebastian says, more firmly this time. "I will require correction."
Henry's eyes are up again, carefully reading the expressions of everyone in the room. Karen sits back, feeling the glow of the wine beginning to relax her shoulders and sink nicely into her veins. Dex moves through the room on his way to some other task, and Sebastian and Peter are frozen, waiting for her decision.
"Fine. You will take fifteen stripes tonight for going against my express directions to feed Peter meat with every meal."
"Yes, Madam."
"You may continue dinner preparations." Sebastian nods and picks the knife back up, returning to work. "Peter?"
"Yes, Madam?"
"You will return to your room until you are called to eat. You will receive five new stripes tonight for not reminding Sebastian that what you eat in this house is entirely dictated by your owner."
Peter swallows, already looking a little sick. “Of course, Madam. My apologies.” He pushes himself to his feet and nods, giving her a bow before he walks away. Dex shadows him, unobtrusive but ensuring he goes exactly where he is ordered.
Henry watches all of this carefully, then goes back to his work. He is a hard worker and good at studying, and Karen loves to see his mind rolling around in the math problems he loves so much.
He thinks he will study statistics and mathematics in college.
He thinks he's going to college.
In truth, he will be Karen Renford's newest resounding success - a placid songbird and piano player with all those memories and that annoying independent streak removed with surgical precision.
A new acquisition to stay with her, entertain her, be carefully honed into the final missing piece from Karen's idea of a perfect life of total, unending, complete control over her four Box Boys.
And everyone in this household knows his future but him.
#whump#box boy#box boy universe#karen renford#creepy whumper#violent whumper#distant whumper#referenced violence#forced feeding#tw: mention of force feeding#tw: mention of starvation/food control#reference to whump involving a minor but no minors whumped#collaring#pet whump#dehumanization#caretaker whumpee#broken whumpee#tw: foster care whump
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(Film three. In Auradon. Bal’s apartments in the castle. After “best day of my life”. Mal’s in a pair of Ben’s boxer shorts and a doctor who T-shirt. Standing there)
Ben (looping his arms around her waist): hey
Mal: hey. How are you?
Ben: good. Good. And you
Mal: oh so much better now (she turns around) and is this all for me?
Ben: mmmmmmaybe?
Mal: well I greatly appreciate it whoa
(She’s turned around to get a better look at him. He’s, just like her. In boxers. Longish purple hair. And literally nothing else)
Mal: oooh I’m feeling very matchy matchy and very much mismatched
Ben: well there are two ways of remedying that. I could put a top on. OR. I could lock the door and soundproof the room and
Mal: lock the door I’ll soundproof
Ben (very happy): okay
Mal: oh my god!
(Under Ben’s shoulder blades are two jagged cuts from which are growing beating miniature mounds of flesh in a dark blue colour)
Ben: what’s wrong?
Mal: your back!
Ben: what! What is it. What’s wrong?
Mal: I. I. II don’t. Know. It looks like somethings growing out of your back
Doug (walking in briskly with Evie right begins): it’s probably dragon wings. The ember sped up the process I think
Mal: and how do you know that?
Doug: Hierachy And History: all levels of magic and their effects and uses. First edition illustrated.
Bal: can I?
Doug: yes you can borrow it. Hell. Keep it. I’ve got plenty
Mal: how do you know all this?
Doug: I uh bought literally every book about magic when you brought it back. Physical copies and on kindle
Mal: ohhhh. For a minute I thought you were mansplaining to us.
Evie: he’s not chad. He actually knows things. And why the hell aren’t you dressed?
Mal: well sis. We almost died a couple of hours ago so Ben and I were about to engage in a bit of glad to be alive
Evie: eww shut up
Mal: oh like you and Doug haven’t
Evie: that’s besides the point.
Mal: why are you here?
Evie: why do you think. Ben put a top on or something
Bal: no
Ben: I’m comfortable
Mal: I’m relaxed when he’s like this
(Evie sighs and looks defeated)
Doug: so what’s the plan
Mal: yeah about that. I’ve been thinking and I think I’ve connected the dots
Doug: oh?
Mal: yeah and it’s got to do with you and I sis
Evie (horrified): no
Mal: yah
Evie: no
Mal: yeah
Evie: nonono
Mal: yesyesyes
Evie: NO!
Mal: yes! Face it E we might be related
The boys: what?
Mal: think about it. Our mothers are the most self centred vainglorious batshit crazy bitches that side of the river Tiber. They would want the most powerful. Chernabog is a recluse and an altruist. The headless horseman has no mouth so can’t sing their praises. So all that’s left is the god of the dead
Evie: but I’m beautiful
Mal: and what am I. Corned beef?
Ben: I’d still marry you if you were corned beef if that helps
Mal: it does help surprisingly
Evie: but didn’t Maleficent say your dad was human?
Mal: villains lie E. That’s why I was always a disappointment
(Ben hugs her)
Adam (sauntering in like he owns the place): well isn’t that sweet.
Evie: what the hell are you doing here?
Adam: I’ve come to discuss the appalling situation that you let happen.
Mal: I’m sorry?
Adam: so you should be. Ben I have a plan. Put them all back and close it permanently
Doug: what
Adam: go back to the mine. It’s where you belong dwarf
Ben: ok you get out.
Adam: what?
Ben: you heard me. You’re not king. And you have no control over me my actions or my friends. So please. Get out
Adam: fine. But you should at least hear what happening since you had to have him save you
Doug: my names Doug but go on.
Adam: the people are in a panic. They’re terrified. If hades can escape others will try to. If you ask me
Bal and Devie: we didn’t
Adam: if you ask me I personally think it’s high time you do away with this ridiculous endeavour once and for all
Ben: no.
Adam: I wasn’t talking to you boy. I was talking to the future queen. Your people are scared. And even the poor are scared they lash out. Either way you’ll end up back where you cane from. You Carlos and the rest of the technicolour freaks that are destroying the property values that I painstakingly created. You are a “vk” are you not?
Mal: I’m not uh I uhm I don’t consider myself a vk anymore
Adam: then who? That is who you are right. Cradle to grave and all that rhetoric. Face it Mal. You are not an Auradon girl.
Elsa: oh you are so right beast. My daughter is not an Auradon girl. She’s the soon to be the queen of Auradon and isle AND she’s the princess of Arendelle. So that’s three titles to your zero. Meaning you’d do well to shut up
Adan: to what do I owe this...thing
Elsa: my daughter was hurt. So I’m checking on her. Like you should be doing for Ben. Or has belle finally ridding herself if you rendered you void of the most basic compassion for your son as well as everything else?
Adam: as I was saying. If my reasonable suggestion goes unheeded the people will rise up and there’s (a phone blasts out “backstreets back”) OH WHAT NOW!
Ben: it’s my cell phone. Doug would you be a dear and grav it for me
Doug: sure. But only if you put a top on?
Ben: I’ll think about it
(Doug snickers and answers the phone)
Doug: king Ben’s personal cell phone the major-domo speaking. Yes. Yes. Oh shit. Thank you for informing us (he hangs up) the wand, the spindle, Jafar’s staff and the magic mirror have been stolen from the museum
Bal, Elsa and Evie: what?
Mal: when?
Doug: two hours ago. There’s no security footage. The cameras were busted. Ten guards are dead. Two have had the hearts crushed. The rest were cut to pieces by glads shards
Adam: ok then. It’s decided. Round them up. I’ll get the trucks ready. We can have you and them all back by sundown
Elsa: you realise who you’re sounding like right now?
Adam: the only sane man. As it has been for years. Now Mal my dear. Your choice. Anarchy or order. Where’d she go
(Mal’s teleported away)
Evie: you poked the dragon.
Ben: I’ll go after. See if she’s ok
Elsa: no I will. This is a mother’s job
(She teleports after Mal and finds her in the dining room hyperventilating)
Mal: I can’t do it. I I can’t
(Elsa pulls her into a cool down hug)
Elsa: shhh shhh now. Don’t listen to him.
Mal: but he’s right. I’m going to be the queen. I should be thinking about these things. And ten people are dead. And some nutbag has some of the most powerful magical relics in existence
Elsa: but you still have the book and the sceptre. And the book. And if your hunch is correct. You’re half god. So
Mal: so, what?
Elsa: so...beast cannot lay a hand on you or Ben or anyone you care about. Not without your say so.
Mal: so what you’re saying is I hold all the cards
Elsa: essentially yes
Mal (weak laugh): why doesn’t that make me feel better
Elsa: because your upbringing had left you scarred and unable to make decisions that could impact people you care about
Mal: ... harsh but true
Elsa: listen
(This is when “brave” happens)
Mal: I can be brave. I can tell Adam where to stick it.
Elsa: I’ll supply the barge pole
Mal (cackling): please let me see that when it happens
Elsa: hmmmmm maybe
(Back in bal’s living room)
Evie: you’ve hated us all since the moment we arrived. You couldn’t stand the fact Ben chose my sister over the Hunan balloon animal you picked out.
Adam: sometimes the parent really does know best
Evie: said Gothel. Said Madame Mim. Said Jafar, Cruella, my mother, Yzma, Gaston, Maleficent and every single shitty parent we had to deal with over there. You’ve joined their ranks plain and simple
Adam: I am not one of them. You are. Upsetting the well defined status quo on a whim.
Ben: you were a bastard of a father and now you’re a bastard of a human being. The kingdom has me now. And I shan’t make the same mistakes errors and blatant crimes against humanity that you did
Adam: then you’ll be a disappointment as king.
Evie: oh for once in your life shut up and let others speak
Adam: PRETTY THINGS SHOULD SIT STILL AND REMAIN SILENT!
Evie: oh there’s my mother again. Doug honey did you know that she said that exact same thing to me when I stared talking?
Doug: oh my god I’m so sorry.
Evie: eh don’t be. I’m over it. Well mostly. But the fact that this idiot is saying it says plenty about his perceived moral superiority
Adam: if you can’t listen to reason I can always force you.
Evie: once again. My mother. Maleficent. Gaston. Jafar. Cruella. Mim. Medusa. Yzma. Hearts. Need I go on?
(In Ursula’s grotto Uma’s working on something)
V!Harry: what are you doing. Well. I know what you’re doing. I’m you. I’m just asking for the benefit of those out there
Uma: who?
Harry: nothing. Don’t worry.
Uma: ugh whatever. I’m working on an escape. If she thinks she can stop me she’s sorely mistaken
(This is when “speechless” happens)
(Mal bursts back in to the room)
Mal: alright here’s what’s going to happen. Ben, Evie you guys still wanna continue with the program?
Ben: yes
Evie: absolutely
Mal: then you do that. Because, Adam, we aren’t closing the barrier. You got that?
Adam: I really don’t think
Mal: I don’t care what you think. Nobody here cares what you think. You’re no longer king. Hence superfluous to the narrative. You’re nothing. The chain of command goes Ben, Doug, me, Evie
Evie: uh excuse me?
Doug: sorry hon. She’s right.
Ben: yeah. King, major-domo, queen, chancellor.
Evie: shit
Mal: so you can scream shout moan complain. But we’re not closing off the island. EVER!
Adam: you’ll regret this.
Mal: pretty sure we won’t.
(Adam stalks off)
Mal (immediately deflating): man I need a drink. Amethyst wine anyone?
Evie: do I even wanna know?
Mal: probably not.
Ben: it’s great. Just like the butter bars
(Evie turns green around the gills)
Doug: I’m probably gonna regret this but what’s in it
Mal: white wine. Vodka. A quarter pound of sugar. And it’s all mixed together with juiced violets. Hence the colour
Evie: that sounds disgusting.
Ben: oh it is. But we made it with magic so the potency is through the roof
Doug: meaning?
Ben: meaning it’ll get you blackout
Mal: shitfaced
Bal: blindingly drunk
Evie (forcing back a disgusted look): ahahaha. I’ll pass
Bal: suit yourself
(They commence drinking. In the isle chadeficent is looking on as Ursula goes belly up)
Chadeficent: need some help?
Ursula: my wretch of a daughter blew up my grotto and escaped with that mouth breathing pirate spawn. Of course I need help
(Chadeficent sends eerie magic hands, the exact type that ripped out Ariel’s voice, plucks out Ursula and drops her on the pier)
Ursula: now that that’s all settled. Who the hell are you
Chadeficent (now only using Maleficent’s voice): you tell me sea witch.
Ursula (unsurprised): you’ve literally never looked worse
Chadeficent (in Chad’s voice): hey watch it bitch!
Ursula: excuse me
Chadeficent (still in Chad’s voice): I mean seriously you look like a desaturated smurf.
Ursula (eyes glowing teal): Do you wanna say that again kid?
Chadeficent (in Maleficent’s voice): no he does not
Ursula (smirking): who’s body?
Chadeficent (both voices now): the son of Cinderella
Ursula: oooh a new meal?
Chadeficent: no. A tool (Maleficent’s voice) in more ways then one
Ursula: how’d you get here.
Chadeficent (both voices): the elongated horseless carriage
Ursula: so the limo
Chadeficent: yes.
Ursula (very much unimpressed): mhmm. Why are you back?
Chadeficent: I’m starting a coven. I assume you want in?
Ursula: eh what the hell. Wouldn’t be the first time we teamed up to ruin lives
Chadeficent: remember when we ruined for children’s lives simultaneously?
Ursula (mad): oh you mean that time my daughter was publicly humiliated and gained a dehumanising epithet all because your daughter acted out in anger at something the witches daughter did that left the freckled thing to be tortured by the furrier for a month?
Chadeficent: yes
Ursula (bark laughing): HA. Good times good times. So. What’s the plan
Chadeficent: we are going to break my daughter
Ursula: mind? Body? Soul? Spirit?
Chadeficent: all four
(In Auradon. Adam’s just sat down at the bar of a tavern)
Adam: double scotch on the rocks
Bartender: coming right up sir
Adam: never have kids Moliere
Bartender: my names not Moliere sir
Adam (not even listening): you raise them. You teach them. You impart your wisdom. Your values. And what do they do? Take a giant steaming shit on all you worked on and turn everything completely upside fucking down in the name of goddamn “progress”. Know what I’m saying?
Bartender: ohhhhkay?
(Adam gets off the stool and starts the jukebox. This is when “gold” starts.)
Bartender (very very scared now): sir. Your majesty are you ok?
Adam (pensively): no. No I’m not a majesty. Not anymore. Well. Not yet at least.
(He runs out of the tavern without paying)
Customer: what the hell was that all about?
Bartender: I don’t know. But I have a feeling little benny needs a warning.
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Remember that concept I made about V as the Phantom of the Opera?
So I decided to start on it because the idea was literally consuming me and I wouldn’t rest until I tried. This is a small introduction to the story so I hope you all like it.
As for my other fic Nocturnal Encounters, don’t worry! The next chapter is almost ready, just finishing the final part and polishing it (I know it’s taking me some time but english is not my native language so please be patient 😰)
Tagging @thedyingmoon and @minteyeddemon because they looked very excited for this thing, thanks for your support lovelies!
---
Prologue: Meeting you
Another beautiful morning blessed the streets of Fortuna, the city bustling with activity and radiance. Along one of the main streets your little form ran, a bag of freshly baked bread on your arms. Your father had sent you to the bakery a while ago, and since you had been a very good child by helping him with the family music store, he even gave you some extra coins for you to buy your favorite chocolate filled pastry, and not just one but two of them!
Soon enough your running slowed down to a walk as you reached Fortuna’s Opera House, a magnificent building that stood proud and pristine among others. The rococo architecture never ceased to amaze you, the ornaments and decorations in the walls and statues carved in the purest gold you had ever seen in your life. You considered yourself lucky that your house was just a couple of streets away from the opera, every time you passed it you would always observe the building in complete awe and wonder.
Oh how you dreamed of performing there, music was your true calling after all. Maybe you could perform as a ballet dancer, you remembered how your instructor at the ballet academy would often praise your talent and skills, though what you really wanted to become was a singer. There was a bit of a problem though, as confident as you were with your dancing, the same couldn’t be said about your singing skills. The only ones who had ever heard you sing were your parents, and although they would always tell you that your voice was truly gifted and stunning, you definitely felt insecure about it.
Cutting your daydream short, you once again started walking towards your house, you didn’t want your parents worrying about you taking too long. However, as you passed the alley next to the opera house an abrupt noise startled you. Turning around towards the noise, you caught sight of a child running behind some wooden boxes, a fallen barrel near them being the source of it. You definitely didn’t expect seeing a child in such a dark alley, they must be lost or something like that you figured.
Carefully approaching the crates, you called out for the kid “Hello? Are you alright?”
After a few moments, a small head peaked from behind, but as soon as they noticed you looking at them, they immediately hid once again.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. You can come out.” You called out as softly as possible, the kid was probably feeling scared or maybe they were just very timid.
Slowly but surely, the child eventually came out their hiding place. It was a boy, probably a couple of years older than you since he was very tall, his short black hair fell in graceful waves just above his chin, making a beautiful contrast with his milky white skin. A worn and battered shirt that looked too large for him covered most of his frail body, his trousers were torn at the ankles and his feet were barely covered by an old pair of sandals.
You made eye contact for a while before his gaze lowered towards the floor.
“Are you ok?”
You asked worryingly. The boy simply nodded silently.
“Are you lost?”
This time he shook his head.
“Oh. Then, where do you live?”
Without muttering a single word, he pointed towards the opposite wall of the alley. Following his finger, you noticed what looked like trapdoor, it was slightly open, revealing a set of stairs that lead to some sort of basement.
You were staring at the trapdoor in curiosity when a small rumble surprised you. Once you turned towards the boy, he was looking directly at the bread you were carrying while holding his tummy in slight embarrassment.
“Oh! Are you hungry?” Once the boy nodded confirming your suspicion, you immediately rummaged in the bag before pulling out what you were looking for. “Here! I want you to have this.”
You handed him one of the pastries you had bought for yourself, you figured that the child needed it more than you considering how thin he looked.
“This one’s filled with chocolate. They are freshly out of the oven and they are absolutely delicious! Try it.”
The child looked at the pastry and then at you. For the first time, he spoke “T-thanks… but… what about you?”
You felt your heart ache, this poor boy looked like he was starving and yet he still worried about you. You assured him that it was nothing and then pulled the other pastry from the paper bag.
“How about we eat together? If it’s okay with you that is.”
The boy nodded, an adorable blush tainting his cheeks and a slight smile appearing on his lips.
You both sat next to each other on top of the crates, eating your pastries in comfortable silence.
It was then that you realized something “Ah! How rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself!” Your mother would always lecture you about the importance of manners, of course sometimes your easily distracted self would often forget about them. After clearing your throat, you extended your free hand towards the boy. “My name is (Y/N), may I know yours too?”
He started at your hand for a moment before hesitantly raising his, taking your hand gently between his fingers. “… V”
“Vee?” You dragged a bit too much on the word “Like the letter? You have a very curious name but I like it! It sounds mysterious and pretty…”
The boy let out a soft chuckle, it sounded so authentic and adorable, and with that pink blush adorning his cheeks you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle too, glad that you managed to make him happy.
Now that you were looking at him more attentively, you noticed how pretty his eyes were. They were a deep but vibrant shade of green, like a precious gemstone or a forest full of life. His eyes were also a bit droopy, giving them an air of gentleness and calm you had never seen before. Such eyes you shall remember forever, there was no way you could ever forget about them.
You continued eating and simply enjoying each other’s presence, time seemed to have ceased existing for you both.
Every other day you would go to the alley to visit V, the two of you becoming close friends after that encounter. Sometimes you brought something for him to keep, like a warm blanket for the cold nights, some toys, and of course, your favorite pastries. Though he wasn’t very talkative, you were surprised to learn he was a quite polite speaker. His vocabulary and knowledge amazed you, it was as if he was being raised and educated by a noble family of the highest Rank. One day during one of your visits, he showed you his most treasured possessions, a book of poetry and a long, gorgeously crafted silver cane.
When V handed you his book you were fascinated by its contents. It was an anthology of William Blake’s prose, each poem beautifully illustrated. V told you that a kind woman who took care of him gifted it to him, and since that moment he promised to always keep it close to himself. However when you asked about the cane, V simply fell silent, that gentle smile of his transforming into an expression of sadness. Not wanting to press further, you tried to cheer him up instead by offering to read some poems together. V’s face once again lit up.
On another of your visits, you swore you saw something strange on him. You were both eating your chocolate filled pastries together when one of the long sleeves of V’s large dress shirt fell along his arm, revealing a small portion of his wrist and forearm. For a few instants, you managed to see a couple of black lines that flowed and swirled on his pale skin, like rivers of ink that moved freely on a clear canvas. As soon as V noticed, he instantly pulled his sleeve, covering the marks on his arm.
You wanted to ask him about it, but before you could mutter a sound, V turned away from you, curling over himself. Worry and concern took over you, making you get on your feet and kneeled in front of him. One of your hands took hold of his face with utmost care and cooing to him, he was visibly altered but your soft touch calmed him down a bit.
“Shhh V, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. “ His breathing eventually slowed down to a normal pace. Though you had curiosity to know what the lines on his skin meant, you respected his silence about it, you didn’t want to overwhelm him again.
He suddenly reached towards you and pulled you into a tight hug.
“Thank you (Y/N)… your kindness is infinite like the universe… you have been a wonderful friend.”
You hugged him back, his words making your heart flutter.
One day, you couldn’t find V in the alley any longer.
You kept returning hoping to find him again, sometimes you would leave something for him next to the trapdoor, but he wouldn’t come out.
You started to miss him deeply, oh how you worried about your dearest friend. When you met him he looked so lonely and shy, a deep longing lingering in his pretty eyes. You were glad when he started to slowly open his heart to you, and when you shared with him your dreams of becoming a dancer or a singer, he encouraged you to keep pursuing your career no matter what happened.
When your parents told you that you were moving out, your heart broke. Although you wouldn’t really leave the city, your new house was located a little far from the opera house, meaning that you wouldn’t have a chance to visit the alley and check if V was still there. That night you cried your heart out, wishing to see him just once before leaving. If only you could see those bright eyes again, and that adorable smile.
You arrived at the alley the day before your family moved out. V wasn’t there either, making you feel sad as you hoped you could see him one last time. Fearing this would happen, you had written a short note explaining why you wouldn’t visit for an indefinite time and how you will deeply miss him. Carefully you placed the note next to the slightly ajar door, as well as a red rose and a bag containing a few chocolate pastries, the ones that became your favorites for you both, before leaving with a terrible sadness in your heart.
You hoped that one day you both will be reunited, in the meantime you committed to memory the sight of his adorable smile as well as those precious eyes of his.
You would never forget those eyes.
#phantom of the opera#devil may cry#devil may cry v#v x reader#v x you#fanfiction#fanfic#honestly i can't wait to continue this
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Mornings ~ Dan Howell
A/n: Short little Dan Howell fluff :’)
~ Anon Pidge
Word Count: 1476
"I've been told that people in the army do more by 7am than I do in an entire day, but if I wake up at 6:59 and turn to you and trace the outline of your lips with mine, I have done enough. And killed no one in the process."
- Shane Koyczan
When I was younger, my grandfather would lecture me constantly about wasted time. He had ranted to me - once for a straight hour and a half - about how all my dragging feet and dilly dallying would come to bite me in the butt. He’d go on about how much he did by 7am in the morning... and here I was, not even awake until 10am earliest on a good day.
Once I’d moved out, I realized how right he was. I developed a habit of going to bed at 10pm, waking up at 6am to start my day strong. It had always delivered me an easier time than teenage me had. I still had anxiety and depression all episodes, but they were lesser than before and I was calmer, more organized, more focused, and could genuinely breathe easier.
Despite this, my reports to my grandfather always went unapproved. He’d simply go back to his speeches on what he did in his golden ages working in the forces and how much he’d done only by 7am...
Eventually I gave up. I kept a solid sleeping schedule but I’d become satisfied with never fulfilling my grandfather’s idea of achievement. Some people just can’t be pleased!
Then I met Dan.
Daniel Howell cane to me during our time in uni. We’d been in the hallway and he was in a rush, running past me as I strolled and ramming hard into me. I yelled something about watching where he was going and he called back a frantic apology before containing on his way. Later, we’d run into each other at a coffee shop. Despite my good sleep schedule, exams were about to hit and my sleep was getting WRECKED.
Used to my well planned schedule, I was a mess and sat with my elbows on my textbook and my face in my hands as I cried in the middle of the coffee shop. Dan sat across from me. “You’re the girl from the hallway,” he began.
I’d glared at him, unaware at the time about how aware and caring of people he was and how he would be the best thing to ever happen to me. “You’re the boy who ran into me,” I stayed grumpily. “Literally.”
He winced. “Yeahhhh, sorry about that.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “It’s fine. What do you want? I’m kind of busy.”
He fought a smile. “Crying over your book?”
My eyes fell to my book. “Exams suck.”
Conversation sparked between us and he soon bought me another coffee and hooked me onto an actual date as apology for our hallway collision.
When my sleeping schedule stabilized and Dan dropped out of uni, we saw a lot more of each other in a better light. It took a long time (all of which Phil kept pestering us to just make it official, although Dan likes to take things slow and I was busy with school anyway) but eventually, we got together. The day I graduated he scooped me up with a grin and asked if he could kiss me and I didn’t hesitate.
Eventually I even moved in with him and Phil; Dan’s idea. I thought it would be a wreck but Dan and I shared a room and everything was pretty fantastic. That was a little while ago. I’d now known Dan five years, dated him two, and had been living with him for one. Wild how time passes like that.
All of this ran through my mind as I lay awake for an unusually lazy morning. Well, they were unusual for me at least. Usually I’d kiss Dan’s forehead before heading to work because I couldn’t pull of the YouTube gig like the boys could (though they HAD looped me into a few appearances, especially after Dan and I admitted that we were dating with no further detail), but today I had work off.
My eyes flickered to the clock- 6:58 exactly.
I couldn’t help think about my grand father’s solidly set time, 7am. How he always used that time. I’d been up for an hour before that time and had for years. In that moment that the 8 turned into a 9, I admired the way Dan looked when he slept.
His face was smooth and clear. He was warm and seemed younger, as everyone seemed to in the peace of a deep, pleasant dream. His hair was curly and messy and I couldn’t help a smile at his childish and silky he looked at the same time that he looked incredibly good. The sunlight pressed against his skin, lighting and warming the color and making his features soft and bright. He was beautiful.
My hand reached out, fingers tracing the lines of his face mindlessly. Sensing movement, I looked over so that my eyes met Dan’s. I dropped my hand and he chuckled silently. “Admiring the view?” He asked in a croaky morning voice that set the adorable scene perfectly as a cherry on top of icecream.
I scooted close. “May I kiss you?”
He rolled his eyes but blushed. “You don’t have to ask.”
At 6:59am on my day off from work, my lips met Dan’s and a sense of calm and warmth and complete serenity filled me until I was overflowing with it. I thought about the amazing five years I’d had with Dan so far and those still yet to come. For a second I thought about the future but then I pushed it all away to bask in the pure moment of now, still untainted by the rest of the day.
He leaned back and I caught the tabs on the clock turning so that it was now 7am. Brown eyes wide and melted into wavering puddles of softness, he whispered, “I... Whoa.”
I giggled. “I love you Daniel James.”
He blushed, shifting. He always turned into a teenage school girl when I got mushy with him and I thrived in those moments.
“I love you too,” he whispered. And I believed him.
The next time I saw my grandfather, I would sit in front of him as Dan joked with my mother just a ways away. It was a holiday and I’d dragged Dan to my family get together first. “Grandad,” I started. He looked up at me.
Before I could begin my little speech that would top all of his in one go, he smiled. His eyes watered and he grinned without any of his own teeth. “You’ve done it.”
I rose an eyebrow. “Done what?”
“You’ve fallen in love. Real love. The kind of love I felt for your gran.” I blushed, eyes going wife and for the first time in my life listened to what my grandad had to say. “It wasn’t until she passed away that I realized that all those days of my youth fighting and getting up early and being productive and all the achievements I claimed for it... were nothing. Compared to late nights and early mornings with her. With the love of my life. Nothing compared to the love I experienced all in one moment.”
My eyes widened in soft surprise. “How did it know?”
He smiled, chuckling as he shook his head and wagged a finger at me. “I know that look, child. It’s the way you look at rainbows and talk of magic and the way you explain your favorite character or book or song. The way you talk about your dreams and the look you get when you’re about to talk about the thin you love most. The way you look at that boy.” I blushed worse and he laughed again, catching Dan’s attention. “If he’s got you to realize it so young, do yourself a favor. Don’t let him go.”
My grandad had leaned close and my eyes watered, my grin so wide it hurt. I could feel Dan’s eyes on me as I tried not to cry, blushing, but he dint dare cut my mum off to approach me. “I’m not planning on it.”
Finally, I had done more than my grandad ever had because he had realized the importance of the moments he’d lost too late. I’d done more in that one minute between 6:59 and 7:00, admiring the face of the man I loved and then kissing him, wrapped in sunshine and dreamy grogginess, than my grandad could even dream of in his fighting days.
And I’d done nothing violent either.
I had to explain everything to Dan later and he would pull me close, burying his face in my neck to hide his blush. I would chuckle and whisper, “You’re not ever getting rid of me, you know that?”
He would pause for a moment, leave a soft kiss on my skin, and then mumble back so quietly I would almost miss it, “Good.”
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This is super long or at least I feel it is...
I kinda wonder how I’d do on that show. The part of me that likes to watch people sing would be that person who nods their head along and watches the other contestants sing so I could possibly miss my turn. Then there’s the paranoid side of me that would be totally focused on the screen too since I know I have to watch for when it’s my turn. Then the part of me that doesn’t want to lose will be so obsessed in making sure I don’t sing when it’s the other persons turn so I don’t give them points. I wonder if your mic automatically cuts off when it’s not your turn. If so, that would eliminate that one aspect of my mind game. I still can’t tell if being “good” is a good thing or not. I’ve only watched the first episode but it’s like having a target on you if you are too good. Compared to the singers, I think I’m in the middle to low so I think I’d rank 4-5/6. I don’t think I’d be the worst. I think my top potential would be 3/6. Not the top 2 spots. I almost feel like if I can’t reach a bit or even know the words for that matter I’ll just hum or vocalize a sound to at least match the pitch. I’ve only played rockband a handful of times doing the vocals. I also have sung on those karaoke mics where they give you a score. Their algorithm needs to be fixed...lol. Cuz people I think who sing well sometimes score lower than people who don’t. So usually turn off the score function so people don’t feel ashamed or embarrassed by a score when they are purely singing for the joy of it. People shrug off and down play a low score but for a moment I know it prolly does put them down or embarrasses them for a moment or two.
I don’t think there’s ever been a competition between us as to who can sing better. I really do like your voice and, if anything, I’m more so pushed competitively to compliment your voice and like to sing duets and harmonies with duets. Ohhh...duets...cruising. I remember us singing that for fun and the second time around really just looking at the words and being like, “huh. Damn. That’s some crazy word play there. Innocent nice song my ass.” Haha. I think the thing I would like to do is sing more songs with you or just listen to songs together that have two people/harmonies that are cute, sweet, or themes of love, and just be able to connect with you/each other with them. Like all the Mraz songs I know, I think about/sing for you. His collaboration with other artist are just as powerful that I do want to share/sing those songs with you. Bryan Adams, always loved his songs, had deeper meaning when associated with you. If we ever go out to karaoke, I’d love to be able to sing random songs with you and for people to know/feel that we have a connection when we sing together as compared to if someone asked either one of us to accompany them to sing a song. Like, I remember there was a girl who liked me and her way of trying to connect with me was during karaoke, she’d ask me if I knew whatever song and if I did, she’d ask if I wanted/could sing it with her. I still don’t really like to sing at karaoke but I kinda knew where she was going with it so I reluctantly agreed. So I could see how she enjoyed being able to sing with me whatever song she picked out and then there were times when the song she chose did appear and no one knew who picked it, she didn’t respond fast enough, or someone who had the mic liked the song and took over in singing it and I could see how bummed out she was about that. Where I ended up singing with someone else or I didn’t sing the song either since she wasn’t able to sing it.
It was weird. I did have confidence in myself and in my voice before I got hurt because even though I didn’t brag or show it off often, I knew I could hold my own against most average singers. So really, only family, close friends, or my group of friends know that I can sing. And like I said, the girls/women I’ve been with, including you, prolly only 5 know I can sing? I always used to joke around that if I wanted to get a girl to like me, I’d just take them to a karaoke type setting or one of those get-up-on-stage and sing situations and once I sang or people realized I had a voice, instant panty dropper...lol. I was so shy and guarded about my voice that I once said that the only way I’d ever sing in front of anyone was if I was in another state cuz I couldn’t come to terms with the running the risk that someone would hear my voice and make a big deal out of it. I think it may have stemmed from random family functions with guest when my dad and/or mom pressured me to sign in front of people when i didn’t want to or it wasn’t even a planned thing, I clearly have no experience with stage presence, and I have such anxiety when the focus of attention. Them doing that to me made me retreat and hide my myself/voice even more. I didn’t want to be put in that situation. It happened one too many times that I think I just got really turned off about it. You see how big a part music plays in my life and I do enjoy singing. I guess I’m willing to share it only when I feel I’m comfortable enough to. Otherwise, I’m okay with people not necessarily knowing. It’s a secret and a hidden talent. Like the second part of my first name :)
Like I said, I really like your voice. People don’t necessarily need to be powerhouse singers to be great singers. And sometimes just the joy, love, and passion of singing can trump the fact that you don’t have a great voice. That’s why I enjoy watching people sing at karaoke. I could prolly sing for 5 hours straight by myself in a room or with you or with my brother and cousins. Even with family/relatives. But with relatives it’s because a lot of people like to sing too so it works out perfectly for me where I sing maybe 1 song out of every 10-12. I used to sing more when I voice was decent but not I’m extremely self conscious about the fact that I can’t sing as well anymore. That’s prolly another reason why I don’t sing as much. But like my brother and I rationalize, if you sing in the right key and play to your strengths, you can be on par with decent singers as well. So I think that’s prolly like you and me. But then again, maybe we are tougher critics on ourselves. But I see when you sing you do enjoy singing. I see that you do try and want to sound well and aren’t afraid to just sing for the pure fun of it. Even when that high part came and you just “nooope” out of it...lol. I admire and like that about you which is why I do enjoy you and your singing voice. You have a nice voice and with the right songs and moments, you do it kill it, and you sound amazing. That’s why I sooo want to be able to listen to/sing songs with you. I’m intrigued by the prospect of what we can pull off. You seriously would fit right in with my family if/when we would ever do karaoke :)
Ha...my shoes. Yeah...I guess you did have a problem with my white-not white anymore shoes...*ws* I don’t know. It was still functional and the grip was the most important thing. Now if my toes started sticking out of them, then that’s a problem. But if they grip well and are able to serve its purpose, technically, they are still “good”, right? Except for the color. I don’t know. I guess it’s because I’ve been raised or have the mentality that I don’t/shouldn’t pay more for something when there is something with equal quality or serves the same purpose at a more reasonable price? Like with basketball, I was still buying my basketball shoes from Ross, discount stores, or if I went to Nike, I couldn’t see myself spending more than $25 for basketball shoes, and I wore them out till the show literally fell apart on me. Or when I ran marathons. They say to change your shoe every, I don’t know how many miles. But it technically would last 6-9 months, a year at the most. I trained and ran marathons in the same shoe 2-3 years in a row cuz the shoe I bought was like $150. I was sick when we paid for it. My dad was insistent that I buy quality shoes. There were even shoes for $250-300-350 and I was just getting sick looking at those prices. I immediately looked at their sales and clearance ones. I think $99-129 were the lower end prices. The first marathon I ran I prolly bought running shoes from Nike for less than $50. It wasn’t till my dad decided to run it with me too that he decided to get real running shoes and brought me along to but quality ones for me as well. So yeah. Marathon shoes and basketball shoes are now the only shoes I can justify paying more for quality.
Nurse salary. Ha. I know I told you that my “splurge” with my first paycheck was going to be ordering a “meal” from the preset meals from a fast food place. Chick fil a doesn’t count nor does in and out or raising canes since they don’t have value meals. Like you can get items from the value meals to create a complete meal. That was my speciality. It was crazy that at one point for the longest time I could quote the value meal/$1 menu items from most fast food places since that’s what I ordered from. I finally ordered something off the meal menu about 3 months ago. It was a sourdough jack meal from jack in the box, upgrade to large size, and substitute for seasoned curly fries. And I only got it because my brother agreed to share the meal with me...lol. So yeah. It was pretty momentous :P
What? Watch the second hangover with mike Tyson. Di-djew di-djew di-djew di-djew di-di-djew...ad lib for finishinf effect...then sing with feeling, “I can feel it coming in the air tonight.” :P I don’t know about the rest of that song but that’s all you wait for. You wait so long for it and the anticipation just builds since the song is so dang slow. But when it finally comes you just let all the build up rush out in that 3 second interval...lol. Classic.
I wouldn’t say it was his velvety voice but he does have a good voice. What I liked was that he held out the notes. Other people cut the words/notes short so it didn’t have that singy/songy flow and transition that I feel that song should have. It’s like a song where you sway from side to side. Other versions, you don’t sway from side to side as much. With Barry, you reeeally sway from side to side and it’s a smoother type of sway where your body starts to sway back and your head needs to catch up since it’s still caught up in the position from the original sway but it’s time to sway to the other side like your body is doing the swaying and your neck and head are just along for the ride :P haha...how many versions did we listen to? Like 3-4-5? :)
Of course I’d want to spend time with you Love. Come on. It’s Christmas. How could I not not? Not that I need an excuse to be around you but yeah, it was totally worth it and I would do it all over again. I think the only thing that could have made it better was the situation, obviously, in where I didn’t have to look at the clock. That way we could have done whatever at our leisure. Like if we wanted to make hot cocoa and enjoy that during the movie and not have to worry about the time. I always felt that I was gambling on how many more minutes could I milk with you before I had to leave. Those were so difficult. The “goodbyes”.
I know what you mean. Thanksgiving came and went and it didn’t really feel like it to me. Like I said, it didn’t really register in my head it was thanksgiving until the week of. It’s still difficult to wrap my head around the fact that it’s December and it’s almost Christmas. Truth...I saw this holiday season being waaay different than what it currently is for you and me. I know. I’m a dreamer. A part of me still keeps saying, “but it’s not here yet. It’s not time yet. Things can still happen.” And I’ve thought that with every moment, holiday, or time table I’ve given myself. I guess you only fall as hard when you dream as big. But I understand. I do feel hollow. My body is in the moment but my heart, spirit, and mind is consumed with the alternate reality of being with you. Wondering what you are doing vs what we could be doing. I’m not so sure what kind of meaning you’ll be able to formulate, understand, or reinvent somehow. I think we both have different approaches in how to make sense of it and just survive the actual holiday. I don’t know how it is for you since you have him and your family/life there. I guess you are “reinventing” the holiday to give it some kind of meaning for you. For me, it’s kind of just trying to survive it in the sense that I think I’ll have that “so alone in a room full of people” overacting sort of emotion. I know people will ask me about you and/or about someone in my life and I’ll have to side step or joke about if they know anyone then let me know. Or I will be present and look at everything around me and my mind will drift off to what you would be saying/doing/reacting to everything. People will smile and talk stories as usual and I’ll prolly just listen from afar. And at some point the reality will sink in and I know that I’ll go through the thoughts of “honestly being alone”. And I’m going to struggle with my thoughts/feelings. They will go up and down like they already do. My resolve for you/us will never feel stronger nor weaker in any given moment. And even though time does feel irrelevant, the only constant is that it keeps moving forward and that’s something I have no control over.
I think it’s safe to say that most anything we do together, it will be fun or we’ll end up making it fun somehow. But yeah, holiday pop up bars would totally be a thing you and I do. Honestly, I feel there’s just so much you and I can do and experience. What gets to me though is I don’t know why I feel like I don’t have enough/the time to do whatevers with you. The only reason I’m aware of time/dates is because of the stock market. Other than that, days just go by and next thing I know, time has passed, I feel I haven’t accomplished much, and I feel like I just lost time. It’s not really something that used to get to me but now I’m more aware of my mortality. Every time my heart has that irregular beat, every time I feel my knee twist or I feel a pain, every time I almost get into an accident. They recently shut down the freeway due to an accident and I got rerouted 30min out of my usual commute time and the first thing I thought about was you and then the second calming thought that it couldn’t be you since you’d have no reason to be on this side of town.
I think about even though my knee is messed up and ice skating could do some serious damage if I feel wrong, I still wanted so much to be able to make it and take advantage of the hot cocoa they were giving out with the package that we bought. I’d love to share that experience with you and it does bother me a little that that’s something I haven’t been able to do with you. Even though we’ve done a lot together, I feel we could do so much more.
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@fireflyfish replied to your post “generallkenobi replied to your post: lately, i...”
What makes November so special to you? And I swear I'm not being sarcastic. I'm curious. I love all the winter months but I'm curious about your love of November. Also, pumpkins can gtfo.
YES, LET US VANQUISH THE PUMPKIN MENACE TOGETHER, FISHY.
and !! i love lots of things about november!! first of all i’m always like. ridiculously cheerful the entire month, despite novembers usually being the Most Stressful and Busy time for me, and idk if it’s the General Atmosphere of the holiday season starting, or just me, but !! and it’s my birthday on the fifth haha so that’s always nice :D and my family celebrates Diwali, which is USUALLY in novemeber, and it’s my absolute favest holiday so :D (EXCEPT IT IS IN OCTOBER THIS YEAR, WHICH FEELS WEIRD EVERY TIME BUT WHATEVER ILL MAKE DO)
peppermint mochas! which isn’t November-specific, exactly, but still!! the good mood for these lasts into december and new years tho haha. early november in general is my favest time, but thanksgiving break is usually when friends I don’t see as much because of Time or Distance get a chance to See My Wonderful Face, which is also!!
AND PEPPERMINT BARK!! i highkey Hoard the ghirardelli ones, and Cannot Wait to buy 2034929 bags of the actual Love Of My Life. i also bought ingredients to make my own a while ago!! but i had 2 get regular peppermint candies bc they obv don’t have candy canes yet. this is prob more a december thing BUT IT STARTS IN NOVEMBER OKAY LET ME HAVE THIS
also i just. really like being busy?? and November is always the Busiest, and just. idK there’s a lot of energy everywhere!! and not all of it is from me, but just being around it gives me a constant mood boost? ALSO even tho there is p*mpk*n everywhere, apple pie things and caramel apple things and the like are everywhere too sometimes, which is nice :’) again, not a Nov thing specifically, but eh, i always feel like a bunch of things happen to ALL be happening at the same time in nov, even if they happen individually at other times too?
also last nov i was Terribly Sick and feeling the Literal Worst, and that’s not happening this year i’m p sure, so I’m Back To Being V Excite. adkjssdkj i SWEAR there r more things, but i probably will not be able to remember them until it is actually november
#fireflyfish#honestly im complaining but ill still be like. okay in oct adjsk#my non-Super Cheerful is still relatively nongrumpy i think lmao#text#this was a very long rambly inarticulate answer i apologize adsjk#tHNX ZOE FOR REMINDING ME ABOUT PEPPERMINT BARK AKA FAVEST THING!! ajkds i am def forgetting So Much
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Hey, I’ve been following you for a sec now and I found your post on using a cane for the first time. I just bought one for myself, and I haven’t told anyone yet. I’m really afraid to tell anyone. My friends are supportive, but even that makes me nervous. I saw your post with tips and things, but I’m wondering if you could say more about what the experience is like? I’m really scared. Thanks 💛
yes definitely, i’m really touched that you asked me! if you have any specific questions that this response doesn’t answer, feel free to send me another ask or DM me 💙
my cane is literally the best purchase i have ever made. when i first got it about a year and a half ago, i was really struggling to walk to class, and i was really afraid of falling because my knees were buckling a lot. i thought i was only going to use it on bad days, but it helped so much that i’ve used it every day since i got it.
it was definitely still a difficult adjustment, though. people, both those you know and total strangers, will probably ask a lot of invasive questions, although for me that settled down after a month or two because everyone who interacted with me regularly was used to it by then, so now i only get the occasional “omg what Happened” from people i’m meeting for the first time. it was (and is) incredibly frustrating, though, and both my friends at my school and the disability community on tumblr really helped me by giving me a place to vent.
also, people will stare at you a lot, and it sucks. again, this is something that got less bad for me after a while, although it took longer than the questions thing, probably several months. for me this was really because i go to a small college and so everyone eventually got used to seeing me around instead of it being like “omg who’s that kid with the cane.” i don’t go off-campus very often, but when i do, there are always a lot of people blatantly staring and a lot of people trying really hard to avoid looking at me at all.
that can get really frustrating and feel really dehumanizing, and everyone responds to it differently; what i tend to do, which is a common thing in disabled and especially cripple punk spaces, is dress really outlandishly in response. i shaved my head last year, i’ve dyed my hair several times, i’ve bought some weird clothes that i never would’ve worn if i was still able-bodied. at the same time that it’s infuriating, it’s also freeing to know that because people have already judged me immediately and deeply based on this part of my appearance that i can’t control, there’s nothing i can do that could make that worse. being visibly disabled has really helped me to not give a shit about what people think about how i look, and i’m honestly really thankful for that.
my friends have been absolutely incredible. i have a lot of really amazing people in my life, and while it definitely took a while for us to settle into a new routine or dynamic as i got better about recognizing and addressing my access needs, they’ve been totally supportive and have always been really glad that i’m taking care of myself. at first, people weren’t used to me having a cane, and so especially with people that i’m not as close to, it took a while for them to remember that i’d be going to the ramp entrance, or for them to stop moving my cane without asking me.
honestly, doors are probably the biggest learning curve, and the biggest adjustment that doesn’t go away. you can’t carry anything in your free hand if you want to be able to open the door, and a lot of people go ridiculously out of their way to open the door for me so they can feel good about themselves for helping the poor disabled person, and a lot of people are very, very bad at opening doors in a way that allows someone to actually walk through it. that’s a much bigger issue now that i’m on crutches most of the time and usually only use a cane in my room and dorm building, and might differ depending on your disability because i couldn’t just open the door with my cane hand since i have chronic pain and standing without my cane hurts a lot, but it’s just shitty and awkward and something you’ll have to get used to, unfortunately.
i think my biggest advice is to be very intentional about seeking out and engaging with disability positivity content and anti-ableism spaces such as the cripple punk movement. that’s been vital for me while learning to value my own needs. i especially hope that you will correct people when they try to move your cane without your permission, because at some point someone will; i’ve had to tell a lot of strangers in a lot of different positions of authority over me who think my mobility aid is “in the way” that actually, i need that to walk, and i will not make things harder on myself by walking without my mobility aid to where they’ve put it, and i will not be dependent on someone else to bring it to me. i really hope that all of your friends are supportive and affirming of you, but when it comes down to it, you and your body are in this together, and you need to protect your body and respect its needs.
i hope that was helpful! i’m pretty sure my “cane user” tag has some other posts about those experiences, and again, feel free to send me an ask or message. i wish you the best and i hope everything goes well 💙💙💙
#chronic pain#cane user#mobility aids#ableism#actuallydisabled#cripple punk#cpunk#long post#asks#mac.txt#faq
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Happiness Overload Chapter Ten
I walked up to the fridge and peered at its contents. There appeared to be moldy food and nothing at all appetizing. I had just woken up. From the corner of my bed, I could hear the alarm clock on my phone going off. The alarm, for some reason, went to radio, and I had yet to bother to turn it off. It sounded like some right-wing conspiracy theorist yelling nonsense in a Texan accent.
″THERE ARE GAY FROGS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! DON'T BELIEVE ME? I SAW TWO LESBIAN FROGS HOLDING HANDS! WELL GUESS WHAT, GLOBAL ELITES? I WON'T STAND FOR IT! I HAVE HETEROSEXUAL FROGS IN MY BACKYARD AND THEY HAVE STRAIGHT SEX EVERY DAY! I FILM IT! AS PROOF, EVIDENCE, FOOTAGE! NO ONE'S GOING TO TAKE MY FROG SEX TAPES AWAY FROM ME! NOT THE GOVERNMENT, NOT BIG PHARMA, NOT PETA, NOT EVEN MY EX-WIFE!″
I groaned and turned my alarm off. I didn't even know why it went to that station in particular.
I went back to the fridge and groaned again. I should have known better. Well, I knew better. That's just what happens when you consistently go out and eat Chinese when you should be eating the groceries you bought the other week. I started shoveling the food into a garbage bag. I hated doing this. Wasting so much food. But some things needed to be done. I just told myself that I wouldn't make a habit out of it.
How many times have I told myself that, though?
I opened the door to my apartment and was met by a bright, cloudy day. Any minute it might rain. Rain can be a good thing. Some would consider the way it rained on a whim in the city as a charm of sorts. I couldn't disagree, although what sort of charm was up for debate.
All around me were smiling faces. Some off to work, some coming home from work. Some just enjoying a morning walk. It was nice to see so many people in such high spirits, even if there didn't seem to be much reason to be. Well, there were a few reasons to be.
It's been three years since the elevators at the station were first installed. During those three years, improvements were made, said to make things safer for passengers. Now multiple people could board and each of them would be taken their desired destination. Not only that, but such elevators, now dubbed ″ETNAvators″ could be found in almost every major city across the United States, with plans in a year to go international. Who knew that a teleporter would be so successful?
As far as I was aware, we were living in the good future science fiction novels had foretold. Crime was at an all time low, universal healthcare was finally put into place, everyone's student loan debt in college was paid off in full (as well as universities becoming tuition free), the minimum wage was raised to reflect inflation, and a law was reinstated that made pizza delivery services abide by the edict of 'thirty minutes or less or it's free'. To think that it was only three years ago that I was part of a team trying to stop the corporation making this all possible, ETNA.
Not much was known about the company, but honestly, when they were doing such good work, did anyone really care? I certainly didn't, but I was sure someone did. If the mysterious figure, Conrad, was still lurking, he may have still been trying to figure out how to stop them. But if he hadn't done anything yet, he probably wasn't going to do anything in the near future. I still recall gathering information with he and Velvet, another mysterious person I had no desire to learn anything about. I hoped that they were safe, but was also relieved that it was no longer my problem.
Just three years prior, in the midst of the pursuit between some nasty officers and I, someone in an alleyway caught my gaze; his thin, long legs stood like crooked stilts and he wore a baseball bat. He was laughing and peering out.
He's laughing at you, a thought appeared.
You have to chase him down, beat him up, another one showed up.
I'm trying not to get shot, this really isn't the time! I yelled at my own thoughts.
The thoughts wouldn't stop, almost as if they weren't my own. Call me a sucker, but I gave in to them when I was still running and noticed the same man in another alleyway. I darted toward the alleyway, ready to tackle him.
Instead what occurred was him grabbing me. I hit his chest in protest, but he didn't even flinch. He was much stronger than he appeared to be, his body resembling a stick-bug and not someone with such a heavy build.
″Hey! Put me down!″ I yelled, continuing to pound my fists against his chest and kicking his back.
He didn't. He did laugh, however.
″You'd rather be shot dead right now, eh?″ He chirped, his voice actually soft spoken and polite. His voice reminded me of an Irish folk singer. ″Way I see it, you ought to be thanking me right now,″ he added.
He skipped along, as if the weight on his shoulder meant nothing. I bobbed up and down, feeling as if at any moment I would throw up.
...And then the moment came. Vomit shot up my throat and spilled from my mouth, landing on the stick-man's pinstripe suit.
″Oh lordy, I just got that dry cleaned, too!″ He looked down, his voice betraying him as he didn't sound all that concerned. I was feeling real dizzy and there was but a singular thought running through my head:
The fuck is a dry clean?
I felt a nudge against the side of my stomach. I awoke on a cold, granite floor. I looked up and saw the stick-man (or stick-whatever) nudging me with a stick. How fitting.
″Oh, this? This is just my cane. I use it to walk,″ he tossed it behind him. ″That was a lie. I don't need a cane. But it's a cane, I assure you.″
″I didn't ask...″ I replied with a groan. I sat up and rubbed the top of my head.
″Thought you would, so I prepared myself. Golly, you're no fun.″
I looked over. It wasn't a cane. It was some branch off of a tree. From the look of things, I was in some storeroom. Still, I blurted out the question.
″Where am I?″
″Please don't think of me as a kidnapper, I'm just a traveler when you get down to it,″ he reassured before I even had time to voice such concerns.
″You literally kidnapped me, but seriously, where am I?″
He whistled before answering. ″Out by the docks. I'm hoping we can both meet my sister.″
″Where are we going? What do you plan to do with me?″
″I'm Marco. Or at least that's what I refer to myself as. What's your name?″
I was getting really annoyed with this 'Marco' character.
″Is this just some quirk of yours that you can't help or are you doing this on purpose?″
″I just want to share some information with you. That and save your life. Golly gee, aren't you ungrateful? Those cops were looking to shoot you dead and cover it up. You know they would cover it up, too, right?″
I gave up. I didn't even humor Marco with a response.
″I promise, we'll just go on a little ride and once I know it's safe to return to land, I'll drop you off. You will be safe, you have my word!″
I sighed. ″My name's Kelly Roger. I don't trust you, but I feel pretty powerless right now, so I figure I don't have a choice.″
Marco blinked. ″Is Roger your last name?″
″No,″ I shook my head. ″Both first name.″
He stroked his chin as if he had a beard. He didn't.
″I already knew that.″
″Then why the fuck did you ask?″ I snapped.
″Hey, hey. I've just been watching you for quite some time. You know Conrad, right?″
″Yeah. That guy's such a dick!″ I ignored the fact that he just admitted to watching me. It didn't feel so bad since Velvet and I had watched over the whole town via hacking into security cameras.
He smiled and nodded. ″Can't be trusted, the fellow.″
I felt a surge of delight fill me.
″I knew it! I always had my doubts about him! He was always going on and on. 'Blanc is important' this and 'Blanc is my best friend. I'd do anything for them' that. Ugh!″
Marco twirled around and reminded me of Black Swan, that one ballerina movie that I never saw but told myself I would check out one of these days. Mostly because Natalie Portman was one of my celebrity crushes.
″I don't know anything about this Blanc fellow, but Conrad doesn't, hm...″ he paused, unsure of what word to use.
″Give a fuck?″ I tried filling in the blanks.
″No, no, that's not it.″ He dismissed. He paced around a bit before going ″aha!″
″Conrad doesn't find whoever that is to be important!″
He looked so pleased with himself, like a dog that just learned a new trick and was begging for a treat. Well I wasn't about to give one to him.
″What about the work Velvet and I did?″
″Hm...yes. He might find others important in the sense that one might find a toolbox, but he doesn't...hm...give a fuck?″
″You could have just said that the first time!″
He whistled and pulled up his sleeve to look at his wrist.
″There's normally a watch here, I can assure you.″
He skipped over to the other end of the building. I turned my head and watched him open the door, letting a flash of light in. He turned to me, grinned, and pointed upward.
″Oh my, look at the time! We gotta get a move on!″
I walked over to where he was standing, the breeze from the river gliding against my chest. My curly red hair flew back.
If I ever let it grow out and meet up with Velvet again, someone on the street might mistake us for twins, I thought. I do hope the two of them are safe right now. Well, not Conrad. He can eat a dick.
″Ah, there she is!″ He pointed at the sky. ″There's my sister! Hello, sister!″
I looked up and he slapped me.
″What are you doing looking at the sky? My sister's on the water!″
I wanted to punch Marco, but something told me it would be like punching a brick wall.
Down by the docks, a gondola approached with a towering umbrella casting a shadow underneath, only allowing a portion of the person riding to be seen, and what little could be seen was just a pair of huge hands over a polka-dot blanket.
″Not every day I see a gondola,″ I remarked. Actually, aside from in pictures, it wasn't any day. I've never seen one in person.
Marco ignored me and leaped into the boat, curling into a ball to fit underneath the umbrella.
″Sister! So good to see you!″ He cheered.
″Polo,″ was the sound I heard in response from what I assumed came from his sister.
I waited until the gondola actually got to the docks before leaning my foot over. The boat tipped and the rest of me began leaning as well, almost against my will. My hands flailed about. Right before I could fall over, just as I feared I would, Marco crawled up and caught me, pulling me into the gondola with him and his 'sister'.
″Kelly Roger, meet my sister, Polo!″ He introduced. I squinted. The two looked nothing alike. Marco was tall and bald with his baseball cap on. Polo was short with dark hair in a bob cut. There were but three things about her that weren't small: her glowing yellow eyes, pupils dilated. Her puffy hands, which bore no hair nor fingernails, her fingers themselves looked webbed. Then there was her large mouth, which appeared to fill the entire bottom half of her face. After a good minute of studying her features, I shifted my gaze to Marco.
″Seriously? Marco Polo? Please tell me that's not your guys' real names.″
″Polo!″ Polo added. Was she a pokemon in disguise?
″We're not blood related, but we're family!″ He answered. Sorta. I still felt lost. ″She's a gay frog!″
″Uh-huh...″ I replied, skeptical. Sure, she didn't look like the average person, but I was pretty sure I knew what frogs looked like. Marco hummed a tune, not seeming to notice my doubts. Flies buzzed around the umbrella. One made its way inside, to which Polo responded by opening her mouth and shooting her tongue forward, wrapping it around the fly. Her tongue slunk back into her mouth and she swallowed.
″Polo!″ She beamed, or it at least looked that way. She seemed happy. I, myself, couldn't believe what I was seeing.
″Did...did she just?″ I stuttered, astonished.
″I once measured. Three feet, five inches.″
I blinked.
Marco stroked his chin. ″Or maybe it was six inches...″
″That's it, I've seen enough! I'm getting off!″
″No, no, maybe I was being generous. Maybe it was four inches...″
I turned around only to realize we already left the docks and were in the middle of the water.
″Polo!″
″That's right! Polo wanted me to let you know that frogs are not the only kind of amphibians.″
I didn't know what I got myself into. I left one crazy group only to find myself in another.
″What a beautiful blue sky, wouldn't you agree, Polo?″
″So what do you want with me?″ I asked.
″Polo!″
″Oh yes, those seagulls are serene!″
″What the fuck are you talking about?″ I shouted. ″I can't see a damn thing!″
Marco blinked. ″I want to tell you how the future will play out.″
″What are you, some fortune teller?″ I scoffed.
″I just know a thing or two about the forces at play.″
″Oh, really?″ I inquired. ″And what forces would those be?″
″Polo!″ Bellowed Polo. Marco shook his head.
″Salamanders are actually amphibians and not lizards,″ he told me.
″What? Those are the forces at play?″
″No. Not yet anyway. They probably will be. Or at least Axolotls. Despite what ETNA believes, axolotls are not extinct.″
″ETNA? You mean the corporation behind the elevator in town?″
″Newts are also amphibians, by the way.″
″Focus, Marco!″ I snapped.
″Polo!″
″I wasn't distracted, I swear! That was valuable information!″ He defended himself, a useless effort. ″Anyway, yes, that very same ETNA. They'll make it big in a few years. Even though they already have. They'll be a little more public. Well, the public will think they know of them.″
″And what will the public know?″
″Not the same things you know. Actually, they won't know anything. They'll just think they'll know.″
″What do I know?″
Marco reached over and slapped me, something I wanted to do to him since he opened his mouth, and he ended up taking that glory from me.
″You've seen the documents. Conrad has even told you that the ETNA corporation is a small section of a secret organization as The Flashbulb. The Flashbulb work in departments, across various universes and times, each department dealing with a different version of Earth.″
″That all sounds ridiculous!″
″But you know it to be true!″ Marco exclaimed, his hands stretched out and touching the umbrella's ceiling. ″Conrad can't be trusted, but he told you the truth and you're a part of this, whether you like it or not!″
I shook my head. ″Sorry, you got the wrong person. All I did was uncover secret government documents.″
″You uncovered secret documents, you were traced back, they found your location, they know you know their secrets. Well, lemme rephrase...″ he paused and looked at Polo. Polo croaked. ″...Some of their secrets. Enough that they'll want to deal with you. Or at least put on a show. I can't say my predictions are 100% accurate.″
″How will they want to deal with me?″
″They've got options. They could kill you. They already tried to do that with those cops earlier. They probably won't try to kill you again, though.″
″Good riddance. I don't think I could handle being shot at again.″
″Instead what they'll probably do is more elaborate. When you return, everything will seem normal. However, your parents, a relative, a friend, might suggest you go into therapy. The therapist, employed by The Flashbulb, will convince you that none of what you saw or were told was real, that they were delusions. Hallucinations. That you suffer from a mental illness. Actually...″ He paused.
″They don't even have to go through that effort. Salamanders can regrow their tails.″
I tried to ignore the last part and not the first. It was difficult to only ignore one and not the other. I was an all-or-nothing kinda person.
″You could board the elevator one of these days. One of these days could turn into several times. When that happens, your memories and perception of reality will be altered. You'll believe that you've been told you have a mental illness. You'll believe it to be true and that you imagined all your interactions with Conrad and Velvet. That you imagined your interactions with me. That all the documents you read never existed. Prescriptions may appear in the mail. If I appear again, you may come to think of me as a hallucination.″
He cleared his throat. ″Sorry, swallowed a fly. I did it by accident. Blame my sister for not catching that one.″
″Why would I board when I know what happens in there?″
He smiled. ″You have your doubts, don't you?″
A shiver ran down my spine. I gulped. Although not quite sure if I believed Marco, I wanted to ask just one thing.
″Did you bring me with you so you could prevent this future?″
Marco laughed. Polo croaked.
″Actually, it might be better to wait and let this play out. Maybe I'm wrong. But then again, if I'm right, then that's all the better.″
″Wow. You're a dick.″
Marco shrugged. ″I'm more open about it than your previous companion.″
″Polo!″ Agreed Polo. Or disagreed. It was hard to make out Polo's tone.
I was boiling. I couldn't trust this Marco guy any more than I could trust Conrad before. I shouldn't have ever trusted either of them. I just joined Conrad and Velvet before because I was bored and he promised me that I could sit in front of a computer all day with the best internet in the whole city. The only real reason he brought me on was because he knew of my abilities as a hacker after I managed to infiltrate a hacker group known as Lilypad and stole some of their e-mails. That was all for fun. Everyone I ever encountered was using me and I was sick of it.
″You know what? I'm leaving. As soon as we get to shore, I'm leaving.″
″Of course. That was what we were going to let you do anyway.″
I was taken aback. ″What? Really?″
″Yeah. Didn't I tell you that? We already know you can't swim.″
″How'd you know that?″
″Polo!″ Polo answered.
Marco put Polo's hand on his chest. ″You can tell certain people can't swim just by looking at them. You're one of those people. You've got it written all over you.″
″Really? What are the signs?″
″Say, about the future. You may think things are great. That society has improved. That's only because you won't know any better. None of it will affect you. You'll have memories that you heard it on TV or the internet, even if you never did. Others will look happier, and that's because they've been chemically conditioned to feel calm about everything.″
″I feel like there's so many fundamental flaws about that. How would that ever work? That seems like a whole lot of work to what amounts to a whole lot of nothing.″
″Not nothing. Slavery,″ he corrected.
″Polo!″ Polo added.
″That's right! Polo wants me to tell you how nutritious flies are!″
″So you brought me on this boat just to tell me all this even though it changes nothing?″
″Gondola,″ Marco corrected.
″Polo!″
″Whatever,″ I scoffed.
The gondola hit against something. Marco turned around.
″Oh, look, here we are. Sand!″
I recognized this area. It was on the other side of town. Sort of a mini-beach.
I leaned over and stepped off the gondola. ″Well, this has been...something.″
Just as I started walking away, I could hear Marco's voice.
″Kelly! Roger!″ Of course he'd butcher my name.
I turned around.
″When the time comes, we'll contact you. I think you'll join our cause willingly.″
A sly smile formed on my face. ″Oh, and what's the purpose of your 'cause'? What do you hope to gain?″
″We want to make the fantasy you'll be living in a reality!″ He cheered.
I shook my head. I was tired of all this nonsense. I caught a bus and went to the station just to prove a point, boarding the elevator inside. Nothing happened, save for the fact that it took me to my parent's house, somewhere I thought of visiting.
It's been three years since all that has happened. I lived with my parents for a little while; they took pity on me after I made up some sob story.. After much persuasion, they had me check into therapy, which I was reluctant to do, not believing in such institutions. I was put on disability and given a studio apartment and a fixed income each month. My life has turned around and I'd like to believe I'm not the same person I was three years ago.
I still have hallucinations and hear voices, but I've come to terms that they're just that; hallucinations. Not real. I wish others knew that people like me aren't dangerous, we can lead perfectly fine lives, and most of the time, just want to be left alone.
Even with that said, there's one voice in particular that seems to visit my apartment every night at 10. It says the same thing.
″Ready to join us?″
I knew nothing would happen. That it was just a voice. But I was getting real sick of it.
On one particular night, I decided enough was enough and reached for the door. It may have been a case of ″I forgot to take my meds that day″ but I had to show this voice, or hallucination who's boss.
Standing at my door was Marco.
″Go away. You're not real,″ I told him.
″I knew you'd say that!″ He grinned, and tossed me into the air.
I landed on the roof of the adjacent building, Polo caught me. Or...maybe I climbed on the roof of that building and I just wasn't aware of it.
″So, ready to join us?″ Marco asked. I didn't see him climb or even jump up to the building. That's how I think it must not have been real.
″If I say yes, will you leave me alone?″
″No!″
″Then why would I say yes?″
″Because you've already joined us in the past. Don't you remember Lilypad?″
My heart started pounding. ″You...you're...?″
″Consider this a formal invitation to the world of Amphibians!″
I couldn't believe it. That's probably why I knew it was real. Ever since I was 12 I wanted to join the secret hacker group known as Lilypad.
″All your predictions came true...″ I whispered.
″Polo,″ agreed Polo.
I walked up to the fridge and peered at its contents. There appeared to be moldy food and nothing at all appetizing. It was in the middle of the day and I tired of walking around, checking the fridge, and seeing the same gross monstrosities every time I opened it up. It would have been nice to see some normal food for once. How the other residents of this place could stand to eat such things, I did not know, but I'm human and I can't just eat whatever.
″How can you guys stand that stuff?″ I leaned over and yelled. Three of them were sitting in the next room, smoking up a fog. They stared at me for a minute, then shrugged. Something about their nonchalance pissed me off, so I let them know how I felt by kicking their fridge. They paid no mind and talked about the inner workings of the universe.
Whatever. I'm sure I have some doritos stashed on my ship somewhere.
I opened the door to the pyramid and was met by a flurry of sand and gusts of hot air. There was not a sight to behold and if I tried to focus on anything, sand would just get in my eyes. All of a sudden I had a new found respect for the Star Wars prequel trilogy; Anakin had a good reason to hate sand.
″Hey, close the door! You're letting all the hot air in!″ One of them moaned. I swear, these folks never get angry, as if they simply don't have the energy.
″Put a cork in it!″ I barked.
They were right, though. I slammed the door shut just to prove a point. It had only been a few seconds and I was already breaking a sweat. Good thing a place like this had air conditioning.
″Do you have to be so loud?″ One of them wondered. In another context it may have sounded like a complaint. The way it was spoken, however, came off as a moment of contemplation.
″I'm antsy. There's a difference,″ I wheezed. The air conditioner may work just fine, but all it took was a short burst of extreme heat to not fare well with me. Walking on the floor felt more like balancing on a tightrope, however cliché that may sound. I started wobbling.
″This is why we keep the door closed,″ an exceptionally high one observed, as if making a breakthrough.
″I...just need to...lie down...for a bit...″
″What you need is herbal refreshments,″ advised one of the elders, pointing to a bong. I say ″elders″ because the older ones tended to have long, gray beards. If they looked anything like Gandalf, I would consider these folks Lord of the Rings cosplayers. As far as I knew, they were just stoners from another planet. A planet long since forgotten.
Water splashed on my face and I wiped it to find the culprit: Blanc. They were standing over me with a glass that once housed water.
″It looked like you needed some,″ they pointed to the glass and started making glub, glub, glub noises.
″In my mouth, not on my face!″
Two Beiges leaned over.
″Take it to the bedroom,″ one of them chortled. I feel like the other would have winked, except Beiges don't have eyelids, just two huge black eyes.
I was about to get up, throw something at the two, or maybe break their bongs, the one thing those aliens seemed to care about.
″You have to admit,″ Blanc pointed out. ″That sounded pretty lewd.″ Yeah, I know, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I would be hysteric, but newsflash: I said it and therefore it's not funny.
″I should've been the one splashing water on your face!″ I growled, then took the glass from Blanc's hand and pretended to splash them. Blanc flinched, and rightfully so. I held onto the cup and marched right to the kitchen. After filling it with tap water and chugging it down, I wiped my face and marched toward the spare room that Conrad had been using.
″I'm sick of being stuck here!″ I announced. ″You said this was only temporary! That we just needed to lay low for a bit! Well it's been three fuckin' years, dude!″
Conrad was tightening a bolt to some machine he said he'd been building. I couldn't get too good of a look since the room was dark, but that didn't really matter.
″You're not stuck here,″ he pointed out. ″You've been going out and getting pizza in Cairo just about every night.″
″What? That's ridiculous! You have no proof!″
He looked up. ″You walk around the place and yell ″who wants pizza?!″
″I...I...I gotta do something to stay sane!″ I went on the defensive.
″How do you even afford all that stuff?″ He glared.
″That's none of your business,″ I glared right back.
″It is when we're wanted by the most terrifying organization. Do you want them to find us?″
″If they're so terrifying, I think they would have by now. I mean, if they wanted us so bad, anyway. Face it: they're just not that into us. They've moved on.″
″Maybe they have, but I haven't,″ Conrad sounded resolute. ″So long as they further their efforts to subjugate Earth in all its forms, I will find a way to stop them. I just need a little more time...″
″That's what you said two years ago!″ I shot back. I slammed his door shut, which he probably appreciated anyway. It was hard to believe three years ago I had such high hopes that I would turn my miserable life around and actually fight back for once instead of hiding away.
Three years ago, Blanc, Conrad, and I were aboard my ship, exiting the headquarters of the ETNA Corporation. It wouldn't have surprised me if it was one base of operation out of many, but there was little time for speculation. We were going back above ground and taking to the skies.
″This is all so cool!″ Blanc admired.
″It is, isn't it?″ I leaned myself against the wall, looking all cool. It wasn't that I was trying to impress anybody; my ship spoke for itself.
Blanc skipped on over to the front where Conrad was sitting, the spell of curiosity overtaking them.
″I have so many questions right now,″ Blanc began.
″I bet you do,″ was Conrad's cold, monotonous response.
″Yeah, anyone in my situation would, wouldn't they?″
″But your situation is unique,″ Conrad added.
″Shit, you're right!″ Blanc agreed and snapped their fingers. Blanc then looked down and stamped their feet. I knew that look all too well: the look of trying to find what to say and worried about making things awkward. Likely thinking about what question to ask to start with.
″Say, that Etna lady called those guards Prinnies! Isn't that funny?″ Blanc blurted.
″It stands for Practical Reinforced Integrated Nuclear Neural Independent Enhanced Soldier.″
″That's a mouthful. No wonder she stuck with Prinnies,″ Blanc remarked. For some weird reason, the name made me think of penguins.
I smirked. I wanted to say I liked this kid based on quirk alone, but it was too soon to judge. I didn't get much of an impression of the previous Blanc; the only thing that lingered was the stench of decay.
″You really have no idea what's going on, do you?″ Conrad snapped.
″Well, no, but I figure it's not something great. I'm not sure who's more in the wrong, though...me or the government. I mean, they're killing people and replacing them with clones, but I trespassed on their facility by mistake. So I think it's a bit of a toss up.″
I snorted. I couldn't tell if they were being sarcastic or genuine and that made it all the more funny. There was a certain innocence to this Blanc that I admired. Maybe I would have still had that innocence too if I hadn't fucked up my life so much.
″It's not just the government. It's corporations. Members of various governments around the world. Renowned scientists from around the globe. No, not just the globe. Multiple globes.″
″Like Saturn?″
″No, just Earth!″
″Saturn's not a globe?″
″Listen, Blanc: This secret organization is known as The Flashbulb. They desire a new world order across multiple versions of Earth. They can travel between alternate realities, they can travel through time. They are pure evil.″
Blanc put their index finger on their chin. ″Yeah, I mean, I kinda got that vibe, but I wasn't sure, y'know?″
Conrad looked annoyed. He was about to call his, at one point in time, best friend, a dimwit. I was sure of it. Instead, he drew a deep breath and exhaled.
″So we were friends, right? The me before me, that is?″ Blanc asked.
″Yes, and there was a different you before that. One who I lost. I lost the one that came before you, too, but this you was different. The Blanc I knew was brave and smart and for the longest time I thought we would really win. With just the two of us, we would create a resistance and defeat not only the ETNA Corporation, but The Flashbulb as a whole. However, at the very last second, a top ranking member of The Flashbulb turned back time.″
″So it's not so much that that Blanc was erased as it is that things turned out differently this time around.″
″It's essentially the same thing!″
″Yeah, I guess you're right. Though I gotta ask, if time changed before and none of that ended up happening after all, how can you recall it happening?″
″I...″ Conrad was at a loss for words. This was interesting. Mildly interesting, but still interesting, nonetheless. ″I just can. It's not all that important.″
″What's important is to keep moving forward, right?″
″Speaking of which, it shouldn't be much longer before we get to Egypt,″ I chimed in. I was feeling left out, and no one's allowed to make me feel left out except me.
″Oh yeah!″ Blanc turned their head. ″What's there in Egypt, anyway?″
″You know the eye on the pyramids on the dollar bill?″ Conrad asked Blanc.
″Oh yeah! So both The Flashbulb and The Illuminati exist?″
Conrad shook his head. ″No, the eye is just a doorbell. There's another faction that wishes to control the Earth. We're visiting their hideout. I figure if we can form a temporary alliance, the both of us can defeat The Flashbulb and then we'd have one less enemy to worry about.″
″Oh jeez! I'm gonna be so far from my apartment! I didn't even bring a change of clothes with me! Can we go back to my place and get my stuff?″ Blanc started freaking out.
″No.″
″Aw man, now what?″
″We'll play it by ear.″
Blanc slouched over and started whining. I walked over and gave them a pat on the back.
″There, there. If I left anything behind, I'd be upset, too.″ I noticed this Blanc didn't smell so bad. Well, a little bad. Blanc smelled like they needed a shower, but at least they didn't smell like a rotting corpse.
Blanc perked up. ″Hey, at least it'll be like an adventure! I've never been outside the country!″ I walked away. My job was done. I had done at least two good deeds that day, that was more than enough for me.
″Oh wow, look at all those buttons!″ I overheard. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of me and I saw Blanc leaning over at the dashboard.
″Yes, and don't touch any of them,″ Conrad groaned. ″It's not your ship.″
I wasn't about to stand for such a nasty attitude.
″You're right, it's mine!″ I yelled. ″Leave Blanc alone!″
Blanc was about to press a button, which could very well have been the self-destruct button (if the ship had one).
″But seriously, kid,″ I added. ″Don't touch anything!″
I fell asleep on one of the bunk beds in back of the ship. I didn't trust Conrad's intentions, but I trusted him enough to get us there. That was enough for now.
A few hours later, I awoke to a crash. I bolted up and only saw darkness around me.
The ship was still intact. I was fine.
″What's going on?!″ I shouted.
″It's fine!″ Conrad called back. ″We're here!″
I went up to the front and turned the headlights to my ship on. All around the ship was a pit of sand and ancient hieroglyphs. In front of the ship stood a large door, fitting for the fe-fi-fo-fum variety, not the average human height.
″You coming or what?″ Blanc yelled, their voice sounding more joyous than antsy.
″Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute!″
I scrambled down the steps all while muttering profanities.
″God damn it, Conrad. I told you not to make the ship physical without my okay.″
Outside, I heard a couple taps on the stone door and before I even had time to face it, it opened up. I ran, pushing Blanc and Conrad aside, just to get a view of what this so-called other faction would be.
What emerged from the other side were three tall figures, clad in blouses and hula skirts. Their skin lumpy, several warts covered their bodies, but none seemed to swell. Every inch of their body was the same pale sandy fawn color. Their eyes, although pitch black, seemed to illuminate the surrounding.
″I'm not saying it's aliens, but...″ Blanc muttered.
″It's aliens,″ Conrad replied, not sounding the least bit amused or surprised.
One of them stepped forward, and with me being in front, I was a mere two feet away from this being.
″Greetings. You smell of pennies,″ they announced in a soft, matter-of-fact voice.
″What's that supposed to mean?″ I grunted.
″Relax,″ replied Conrad. ″That's just how they greet people.″
I walked forward, brushing past them. I didn't have time to hear how I smelled.
I overheard the other two being greeted and looked over my shoulder.
″Greetings. You smell of old cabbage,″ they told what I presumed to be Conrad. I never thought of it before, but yeah, Conrad did smell a little like that.
″Greetings. You smell dank,″ the last one told Blanc.
″Is that a good thing or a bad thing?″ Blanc asked.
″It depends on if we can smoke you,″ the being simply replied.
″Ehehe...″ Blanc gave a nervous laugh. I didn't blame the kid. I was just as nervous, truth be told.
″What's with the door?″ I asked one of them. ″You guys are only, like, what, seven feet tall? Don't get me wrong, that's tall, but what gives?″
″Oh, that's just for decoration. You like it?″
″It's unnecessary,″ I pointed out.
″It's about a hundred and twenty feet tall,″ another one replied. ″We could tell you tall it is in meters, but something tells me you guys are American.″
″How do you know what 'American' is?″
″We keep up with current events. We've been here thousands of years, ought to do something productive with our time.″
I see. So that explains why they said 'pennies' and not simply 'copper.' Still, being sniffed out made me uncomfortable.
″Hey, is there a shower in here?″ Blanc piped up. I didn't expect there to be one. This was an ancient race of creatures from another planet.
″Of course. Down the hall and to your left,″ they pointed forward.
I balked. ″What? Really?″
″Water is the foundation of all life.″
I growled. That wasn't fair. Blanc was already running. Sure, they were a little stinky, but they probably just bathed the day prior. With me, it's been...probably about the same time, but what I had going for me was the dried up blood that once flowed down my ears.
I looked around to see a dimly lit space; many halls, many doors leading who knows where. There were stairs leading up, probably to yet another living room and yet another set of halls with many doors.
″Which hall is it? Which door on the left?″ I asked.
″Uh...that one. The first left, I think.″
″Right...″
Everything was so modern despite the place being inhabited by an ancient race. I didn't understand, since I figured they never went outside or left their confines. There was some mystery here, but one I was too apathetic and jetlagged to ponder.
I took a seat on one of the chairs situated in the living room. The placed reeked of weed. I felt like I was going to suffocate. My eyes closed, only to reopen with an alien hovering over me.
″Care to partake in some herbal refreshments?″
″Dude, I just got off a flight, do I look like I'm in the mood?″ I scoffed.
The alien shrugged. ″More for me, then.″
Several hours passed. I must have have been in some deep sleep. What awoke me was a great nudge on my shoulder. I expected it to be a clammy alien, but instead it was Blanc.
″There's no shampoo in the shower,″ they whined.
I yawned. ″Damn, and I was just about to shower, too.″ My stomach made a sound as if to announce it was Mufasa from The Lion King.
″Say, how long was I out?″
Blanc pondered for a bit. ″About a full day. I didn't want to wake you, but Conrad's busy and the Beiges are too faded to answer my questions.″
Huh, I thought. So that's what they're called. I think I recall Conrad mentioning them at some point, but I must've forgotten.
″What? You mean to tell me we've been here for three days?!″
″Well, not a full three days, but yeah.″
I leaped to my feet, my body ready to collapse. It was all sore from sitting backwards in a chair, dozing off for so long.
″C'mon, kiddo. We're going shopping.″
″What? Wouldn't Conrad be mad that we're out in public?″
″He don't need to know a damn thing, alright? We're getting shampoo and a bite to eat, that's all.″
Blanc brightened up.
I was already off to a good start for the day.
It was after the trip in which I decided to formally get to know this Blanc. We came back to the pyramid to find an empty living room. Both of us looked around, but we must have silently agreed that we weren't going to go searching for aliens.
I pulled out the same chair I slept in. Blanc sat on a sofa. They checked their phone, but kept mumbling about there being no signal.
″Hey!″ I snapped.
Blanc looked up.
″Tell me a little about yourself.″
″Well...″ Blanc trailed off, then seemed to be lost in thought. ″I'm a brilliant, but lazy former college student desperately seeking a purpose in life.″
″Do you have to list every trope about yourself?″ I groaned. This was proving fruitless. ″Just tell me who you are, instead.″
″I don't really know. I'm trying to figure that one out.″
I sighed and got up. ″Yeah, I suppose I am too. Maybe with a bit of brainstorming we'll both reach a conclusion.″
I thought I knew myself pretty well. I was a resourceful coward with enough of a history to write a book series about. But this kid, only three days old, proved me wrong. I went upstairs and found an empty room. There was a mattress and a lava lamp. The air in that room gave off a nice chill. Even if the source of the chill was because that room was haunted, I wouldn't have minded being roommates with a ghost.
Maybe taking residence with these aliens will be good for me, I thought. It can give me time to think of just what it is that I really want. There has to be more to me than just self-preservation.
But three years passed and all I have gained is a restlessness. I didn't have some deeper understanding of who I was or what I wanted out of life, but I knew these three years of nothing would soon culminate in something much bigger than anything I've encountered before.
I found Blanc sitting with some Beiges, chatting about metaphysics or whatever it is they talked about. Whatever topics those aliens were interested in, I just knew they were lame ones.
″Hey, wanna get out of here?″ I asked, which got Blanc to perk up.
We walked toward the large doors where my ship was.
″Are we going to get pizza again?″ Blanc asked.
I shook my head and grinned. ″I was thinking of getting out of here for good. We'll even leave Conrad behind.″
To my surprise, a smirk grew on Blanc's face.
″It's about time. I've been planning to do the exact same thing for a while, but I don't know a damn thing on how to pilot your ship.″
″Excellent!″
I walked up to the fridge and peered at its contents. There appeared to be moldy food and nothing at all appetizing. Even though it appeared that way, I knew the Beiges ate it with no problem. Each day I told myself ″I shouldn't knock it until I try it,″ even though I never end up trying it. I closed the fridge and re-opened it. Then I closed it again.
No, I shook my head. Today is not the day I'll try their gross looking food. Maybe tomorrow.
I opened it again. Maybe I'll just poke it. It doesn't smell all that bad, at least. Just looks it.
I reached my finger toward the slimy and furry substance only to pull it back.
Come on, you're not that stupid.
I closed the fridge for the last time. When I looked up, one of the elder Beiges was there.
″Your friend Velvet opened the door leading outside. It was a hot day. She closed it, but the damage was already done. You should get her a glass of water,″ they explained.
″Velvet's not really my friend. We're more like roommates who try to get along, even if they have no common ground,″ I also explained, but then thought it over. ″Actually, she's like an older sister.″
The elder Beige walked away, which led me to snap to my senses. ″Right! Water!″
I reached into the cupboard and grabbed a glass, then filled it with water. I didn't want her to die, and she probably would have come back as a ghost only to complain about how lame her death was. I didn't want her to do that, either. If she wanted to die, she probably wanted a cool death. Like being shot by a laserbeam against a shark alien pirate in a gunfight.
My breath was shortening, my heart was racing. I didn't know how much longer I could go. Luckily, I didn't have to go any longer: it was just around the corner. Also it was pretty pathetic of me to be so out of shape.
I was about to reach down and save her, but in my rush, I tripped over the carpet.
Water splashed in her face. She rose to her feet, wiping it off and looking ready to raise hell.
″It looked like you needed some,″ I explained, nervous as I was. I never meant to throw it at her. I made a gesture with the glass in an attempt to lighten the situation.
Instead, she chewed me out.
″In my mouth, not on my face!″
I did my best to hold back my laughter.
″Take it to the bedroom!″ One of them chortled. I spat.
Come on, guys! Really?
Velvet was fuming. I had to do damage control.
″You have to admit, that sounded pretty lewd,″ I pointed out.
You did it. You're saved.
Or so I thought. But instead, she snatched the glass right from my hand.
″I should've been the one splashing water on your face!″ She growled and pretended to splash me. I flinched, as anyone would. Jeez. All I could do was watch as she walked away.
I let out a sigh and turned toward the Beiges. ″It's okay, she'll get me back later. I have a tendency to accidentally say lewd things as well. I'm sure she'll point it out.″
That's right. Velvet and I were too similar at times. It made me wonder what the real difference between us were. Sure, she had different hair than me, and identified differently. She also had some mysterious past whereas I was pretty bland. I didn't have any secrets like she did. But those were trivial, we were essentially the same person otherwise.
″You know,″ I told one of the elders once. ″I'm actually a clone of someone else. It's not really a bother, but...it means I haven't really been around that long and I'm essentially living in the shadow of someone else. Granted, that someone else was just as boring as me, but I'm just trying to figure out what makes me different, if anything.″
″You want to know what your 'self' is, yes?″ The elder questioned.
″I guess that's a good way to put it. Like, what even is the 'self'?″
″Sit down, child,″ the elder motioned. I was about to sit down when the elder spoke again. ″Never mind. Keep standing. This shouldn't take long to explain.″ The elder took a hit from a bong, then coughed before speaking once more.
″There is no 'self',″ they explained. ″Only a series of memories and chemicals reacting to one another.″
″Thanks,″ I replied. ″I don't feel any better, but I feel like I should have learned something.″
I decided to sit next to the elder Beige after all. Beiges were an incredible bunch with vast amounts of wisdom to share. Even if they were high most of the time when spouting such wisdom, I made it a duty of mine to listen as close as my ever fleeting attention span would allow.
″Funny thing about memory...the past me lived in an apartment. Well, I think it was still mine. Shit, they must've evicted me a long time ago by now. All my stuff must've been put in storage or given away at Goodwill or some auction or I don't know what else.″
″No matter. Material possessions are meaningless in the grand scheme of things,″ the elder reassured.
″I had a PS4 and an awesome gaming rig,″ I whined.
The elder's mouth went agape and stared at me. ″Why didn't you bring that shit with you, my dude?!″
″I didn't know I would get myself into this mess!″ I balked. Out of curiosity, I checked my phone. Still no signal. Ever since coming here I didn't have signal and even if I did, the last time the phone bill was paid was the same time my rent was paid. I slunk back, an utter mess.
″Ugh, Pokemon Go's probably at gen five by now.″
″Isn't that generally considered to be the worst generation?″ Velvet asked, poking her head from around the corner.
″What? Who told you that? There's a bunch of great Pokemon. Like...the otter pop, and...ice cream.″
″You're just hungry,″ Velvet teased.
″No! There's also...uh...garbage...and...pawn shop...also, uh...scopophobia! That's right!″
In my head, my Pokemon knowledge was known across the world, but my current audience just wasn't impressed. ″Well, I think it's pretty cool...″
I had to admit, even without Pokemon Go, real life had been pretty cool as well. Who would have thought that I would evade being killed by an evil organization and meet a group of stoner aliens inside (and underneath) a pyramid?
″Mind passing the bong?″ I asked the elder.
″Certainly.″
Upon taking a hit, the current day faded and my consciousness returned to the day I was rescued on Velvet's ship.
″This is all so cool!″ I admired. Indeed, not even in my faintest memories had I seen anything like it.
″It is, isn't it?″ Velvet smirked, leaning against the side of the ship. She may have had such a smug face, but if I owned a ship like hers, I would have boasted twice as hard. So to me, she was being modest.
I looked around for Euphoria. She would have loved to see it. Or maybe just being in awe of the ship would have made her happy, instead. Alas, she was nowhere to be found and I started to lose composure.
Not wanting to seem unhappy in front of anyone, I ran to the front of the ship where Conrad was seated. I tried asking him a few questions, but every little word he said just screamed ″you're annoying me.″ Even if it wasn't true, I didn't want it to become true. So after Conrad told me not to press any of the buttons, I went silent. It was nice of Velvet to step up for me, but I didn't need her to. She hardly even knew me.
When I turned around to see what she was up to, she was nowhere to be seen.
First Euphy, then Velvet. Here I thought my luck was impeccable, but I lost two girls in one day.
″Do you know where Velvet went?″ I asked Conrad.
″She's just sleeping. There's bunk beds in the back,″ he replied.
″I see.″
″It's been a long day for us,″ he explained.
And it hasn't been a long day for me? Do you have any fucking clue what I've been through? Any clue at all? What about how I feel right now? Does any of that factor in?
I brushed aside such thoughts and kept my mouth shut. He must have noticed my dismay, though, as he spoke up.
″Hey, I'm sorry for coming off so aloof,″ he began. ″It's just that watching a friend die can be a little...overwhelming.″
″Don't sweat it! I'm sure my previous self meant a lot to you!″ I sympathized.
Even though when I think about it, you were always this cold and detached. I don't know why it never occurred to me before, but I don't think me – any version of me – ever meant a damn thing to you.
Again, I shook off such thoughts. I was just being needlessly bitter. Just because he was a little socially awkward doesn't mean he was a monster. He meant well. Deep down in my heart, I knew.
″Hey, can I ask another question?″
He shrugged. ″Ask away.″
″Do you know anything about The Flashbulb being in possession of a being that can make anyone and anything 'happy'?″
″What do you mean?″
″Well...like...the ability to defy logic. If it made a brick wall happy to become a giant chocolate bar, the being would grant such a wish in an instant.″
″That doesn't make any sense,″ he dismissed. ″Brick walls don't feel emotions.″
″That's what I'm saying! It would defy logic!″
He shook his head. ″I've seen no such records.″
″Well, what about the ETNA project? Would such a being fall under that?″
″Etna is the ETNA project. Well, her and the elevator her company created.″
″But what if the company, or The Flashbulb, or something affiliated, had such a thing? What if it's an even more secret project? Like...the 'E' could stand for Euph...″ I started to say her name. The name I might have given her. I didn't want to seem crazy. ″Euphemia, maybe?″
Even with his hood scrunched up and glasses covering his shrunken eyes, I could tell there was nothing but confusion on his face.
″Euphemia?″
″Err...Maybe 'Effie' for short?″
″You're not making any sense,″ he grunted.
″I know,″ I pouted.
I tried following Velvet's lead and dozed off in the chair.
″YOU MANIPULATED ME!″ A voice screamed. One minute I was sitting down, the next I was standing in a vast darkness. Standing before me was a girl in an angel outfit.
″I did not!″ I protested.
″YOU AREN'T REALLY HAPPY! YOU SAID IT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPY TO KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT YOU! THEN YOU SAID IT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPY TO PUNCH THAT HOLOGRAM! THEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HAPPY, BUT IT WASN'T TRUE! YOU STILL AREN'T HAPPY AND YOU WERE JUST USING ME!″
″It's...it's not like that! You made me happy, even if it was only in short bursts!″
She smiled a smile that stretched across the void. Her teeth, her lips, her tongue, surrounded me in a circle. She no longer had a face, just a mouth. Even still, she did not scare me. If anything, it was comforting to know that she was all around me.
″Is there any way I can see you again?″ I pleaded.
″IF YOU WISH TO SEE ME, YOU WILL FIND A WAY!″
Those words left me choked up. I swallowed an oasis of saliva. ″Are you still my guardian angel?″ I asked, in tears.
″I AM EVERYONE'S GUARDIAN ANGEL! I BRING HAPPINESS TO ALL!″
Electricity coursed through me, or so it felt that way. For second I thought Etna, hologram or human, was standing in front of me. But instead, my eyes were open. I was sitting next to Conrad in a ship set on auto-pilot. Out the window was a glittering blue sea.
″Are you okay?″ Conrad asked.
I don't think I was. My heart was beating at an uncomfortable pace.
″Yeah, I think I had a bad dream, is all,″ I replied in a huff, my hand over my chest. ″Say, are we really going to go to Africa?″
″We're already in Africa. We're just floating over a small body of water right now.″
″Okay. But what about when we get to Egypt?″
″We're already in Egypt. We're just floating over a small –″
″Yeah, okay,″ I groaned. ″So what, then?″
″We find the right pyramid and land.″
″How will we know which one's the right one?″
He growled, then slammed his fist on the dashboard. ″You ask too many questions,″ he replied.
″Well excuse me for being curious,″ I scoffed. ″You'd think you would ask too many questions, too, what with your mistrust of governments.″
He looked away. I made a mental note to count that as a victory.
″That's something Blanc would have said.″
″Well, duh, because I am Blanc.″
″Same name, different person.″
You're a loose end. There should never exist more than one of someone.
″Say, wasn't there another me after I threw my math homework into the elevator?″
″Yes, but they didn't last long,″ he replied, still looking away.
″So Etna didn't have to try to kill me after all?″
″Well...″ He was probably thinking it was because I trespassed into the company's lair, or that I knew too much.
″She said I was a mistake, that there shouldn't exist more than one of someone. She probably meant at a time, too, seeing as the one before me died and the one after me did as well.″
This time he turned back toward me and took off his glasses. His face was not something I wanted to see. I should have yelled ″put those back on!″ But I was at a loss.
″She must have known that. By all accounts, she should have come up with a better excuse to kill you.″
″Gee, thanks.″
″I don't understand. I'll have to think this over.″
″Eh, it's probably nothing,″ I shrugged. ″I suppose even evil geniuses have their moments of stupidity. It's not like she was great with words or anything.″
Something had him troubled, but I wasn't going to press. Not when we needed to concentrate on figuring out which pyramid housed these aliens. Conrad held out his laser pointer, pointing it to the tip of each pyramid. From what I gathered, the one whose tip would light up must have been the right one.
″This is like trying to find straw in a haystack.″
″You mean a needle,″ Conrad corrected.
″No, straw. Needles look way different than hay. Straw, though...″
Before I could finish my sentence, which was going to be just a few more words, anyway, a red flash shot up from below.
Upon looking down, I stood in awe as sands started shifting away from each other, forming a deep pit. Conrad lowered the ship, not even a little ″yes! We finally found it!″ As the ship lowered itself underground, next to an innocuous pyramid, the sands around us changed color to a redder and redder tint. I thought we were being swallowed up by a bloodied stomach.
Our surrounding grew darker and darker until a plate of some sort closed the surface back up. To my surprise, the sands didn't flow back inward and the only thing to encase us was darkness.
Conrad pulled himself out of his chair and pressed a button. Velvet's ship was made physical from the outside once more. He jogged to where the door was and pressed the button on the wall to lower the stairs. Wait. He jogged? Conrad didn't strike me as the type to have such energy.
As I followed close behind, stumbling through the darkness, we reached a dead end. Or so I thought. I pulled out my phone, the light being just enough to illuminate the wall. Turns out it wasn't a wall at all but a door, over a hundred feet tall.
I checked my phone; no signal. I sighed. Guess there would be no Pokemon Go for me.
″Should we knock?″ I wondered.
Conrad shook his head. ″We should wait for Velvet to wake up.″
″What's going on?″ Came a shout from the ship. Velvet must have just woken up right on time. Thank goodness, too. I wasn't the patient type.
″It's fine!″ Conrad called back. ″We're here!″ ″You coming or what?″ I yelled, inserting myself into the conversation.
″Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute!″ She shouted. Before Velvet got down, I decided to give the door a couple taps, too excited to wait for her.
Velvet shoved past Conrad and I and as soon as she got in front, we all saw what we had been waiting for: three tall figures, clad in blouses and hula skirts. Their skin lumpy, several warts covered their bodies, but none seemed to swell. Every inch of their body was the same pale sandy fawn color. Their eyes, although pitch black, seemed to illuminate the surrounding.
″I'm not saying it's aliens, but...″ I muttered.
″It's aliens,″ Conrad replied, not sounding the least bit amused or surprised.
One of them stepped forward and greeted Velvet.
″Greetings. You smell of pennies,″ they announced in a soft, matter-of-fact voice.
″What's that supposed to mean?″ she grunted.
″Relax,″ assured Conrad. ″That's just how they greet people.″
Velvet walked past the one who greeted her, looking pissed.
The second alien greeted Conrad next.
″Greetings. You smell of old cabbage,″ I made a mental note to sniff Conrad sometime. I'd have to confirm such a thing for myself.
Conrad didn't comment on his smell and went forward. That just left me.
″Greetings. You smell dank,″ the last one told me.
″Is that a good thing or a bad thing?″ I asked.
″It depends on if we can smoke you,″ the being simply replied.
I understood what they were getting at, but never in my life had I smoked weed, so it didn't seem possible. Maybe they were just smelling my sweat from all the peril I was in earlier.
″Ehehe...″ I gave a nervous laugh.
Velvet started making small talk with the aliens. I didn't catch a word, but all this talk about smells got me thinking.
″Hey, is there a shower in here?″ I interrupted. Showers tend to relax me after a good deal of stress. Or it helped relax the me that used to exist.
″Of course. Down the hall and to your left,″ they pointed forward.
I ran down the hall, leaving Velvet to continue her conversation. There were many halls, but I stuck to the one the alien pointed toward. Ever so brief, the thought of Euphoria, pointed me in the right direction, back when I was in the maze that was the ETNA Corporation's headquarters.
Hot water shot down, forming steam around the room. It was one of those sliding glass door showers, the bathroom itself pretty small, but it had all the things you would expect from a bathroom. All in all, pretty impressive for a race from another planet. But then again, maybe they had showers on their planet, as well.
The water soothed me, cleansing me of any doubts and worries. I grasped at the soap, gliding it against my chest, stomach, arms, legs, then face. After those were washed off, I reached for the bottle of shampoo, ready to get my hair all silky smooth.
All I reached for was an empty space, however. There was no shampoo. I should have figured, seeing as those aliens were bald, but it still disappointed me. I sighed and turned off the water.
After I got myself all dressed, I found the living room. Velvet was asleep in a chair. I was tempted to wake her, but decided against her. She'll wake up on her own, I figured.
Some of the aliens were sitting on a couch and taking hits from bongs. Scents of flowers filled the air, or some kind of plant, anyhow. It was a nice, inviting smell.
″Oh, hey, where'd Conrad go?″ I asked one.
″Took residence in a storage closet. Said they'd be busy for a while.″
″Ah. Well, what should I call you guys?″
″Your friend Conrad called us 'Beige'. You're free to do the same,″ one of the Beiges replied.
″That's easy to remember.″ Now that they mentioned it, they did have a rather beige look to them.
I took a seat in between the two. They didn't look all that threatening.
″Did you guys help the Egyptians build the pyramids? Hell, did you guys build them yourselves?″
All of them in the room stared at me. Then they laughed.
″We helped the Egyptians, sure. When we crash landed on Earth thousands of years ago, we brought the cannabis plant with us. We taught them how to grow dank kush. In return, they built a pyramid for us to in our honor.″
″So you didn't help with the pyramids, though?″
″Nah, brah. They were already there when we got here.″
I snapped my fingers. ″Well, that's one mystery solved!″
Velvet was still in a deep slumber. She must have been a heavy sleeper.
″What about you?″ The one sitting to my left asked. ″What brings you here? What's your story?″
″Well...I took an elevator and found myself in the lair of an evil corporation known as the ETNA Corporation. Though Conrad tells me they're really a front for a group called The Flashbulb.″
″Ah yes, The Flashbulb. Nasty bunch. But that's humans for ya!″
″Amen, bruh! Take a puff!″ Added another Beige.
″I was saved by this girl Velvet over here. We flew off in her ship and now I'm here,″ I explained further.
″Girl, boy, you humans are so strange.″
″What do you mean?″
″We Beiges don't have need for such thing as 'gender'. Hell, most of us don't even have names. Except Tim. We kept trying to talk sense into Tim, but the dude don't wanna listen.″
I smiled. These aliens were less alien than I thought. To me, they could have been the kindred spirits I had been looking for.
″I think I get it,″ I replied. ″I mean, I'm kinda the same way, but I guess I don't care so much how others see me. Or I care a lot, but I'm too tired to want to correct anyone.″
″That's a good way to be,″ one commended.
″I have a name, but I don't know if it really fits me. I'm not sure if I would change it, though. Maybe I'll grow into it. I feel like I'm living in a shadow, though.″
″Don't worry about it,″ the Beige to my right suggested. ″If you want a name, keep it. If you don't want one, throw it away.″
My smile remained. ″Thanks. I think I'm ha...″ I stopped, then corrected myself. ″I think I'm glad to be here.″
″You're welcome to stay as long as you wish. Or leave as long as you wish.″
″Is everyone welcome here? Is that how you have all these human things?″
An older Beige laughed a throaty laugh. ″Some mysteries, child, are best left unexplained.″
I sighed.
The following day, Velvet was still asleep. It was the day after when she finally awoke. She was hungry and I needed shampoo, so we both went out for a bit. Truth be told, I was a little hungry as well. When we got back, she decided to have a little heart-to-heart with me.
″Why don't you tell me a little about yourself? She asked.
″Well...″ I trailed off. The whole question caught me off guard. Was she some sort of therapist? ″I'm a brilliant, but lazy former college student desperately seeking a purpose in life.″
″Do you have to list every trope about yourself?″ She groaned. ″Just tell me who you are, instead.″
″I don't really know. I'm trying to figure that one out.″ I'm Blanc. I know that much. But just who is Blanc, when it all comes down to it?
″Yeah, I suppose I am too. Maybe with a bit of brainstorming we'll both reach a conclusion,″ she said after getting up and letting out a sigh.
There seemed to be a kindred spirit between Velvet and I, as well. Or maybe it was my lack of understanding of myself that made me see myself in everything around me.
After a year of wandering around the pyramid and venturing outside on occasion, one of the elder Beiges approached me. It also happened to be a rare moment where Conrad was outside of the room, or storage closet, as the Beige told me.
″Come with me. I have something to show you,″ the elder Beige instructed. I didn't question it, but let my heart pound at the anticipation of whatever it could be. Conrad squinted.
″What about me?″ He asked. He sounded suspicious.
″This is for the child Blanc only,″ the elder explained.
I got all giddy, rubbing my hands together. As the Beige led me to a door I hadn't been aware of before, I turned to Conrad and stuck my tongue out. Hell yeah I was gonna gloat.
When I reemerged, Conrad was still standing.
″What did the elder Beige show you? Was it a weapon of sorts? Don't believe a word the Beiges tell you. Remember they're our enemy. Were they trying to manipulate you? Did it work?″ Conrad interrogated. It was clear the guy was jealous as fuck, but I was ready to be the bearer of disappointing news.
″It was just a bong collection,″ I shrugged. ″Unless they're weapons of vapor destruction, I don't think it was anything special.″
Sure, I was selling what I saw short, but I had to. Conrad wouldn't have been able to handle it. He just didn't understand the simpler things in life.
Flash forward a couple more years and I was still living with the Beiges. They taught me many things, like how to weave baskets, how to make my own clothes, and how to properly use a bong. I knew I would have to leave them soon, however, and the day Velvet opened the door at the front of the pyramid, letting all the hot air in from the surface, and being mad at me when she was the one who said something lewd would end up being that day.
Funny thing was, for all the things they taught me, I wasn't even aware I would be leaving them that day. Velvet was off in the distance bitching out Conrad, and I was sitting with my Beige friends. That day, something came over me. It might have been the high I was experiencing, but I just had the strongest urge to confess something. Something that had been on my mind since living with them.
They must have sensed it, too. One of the elders spoke up.
″You look lost in love,″ they observed.
″Huh?″ I bolted. ″That's not it! I was just thinking of someone. Or someone I imagined.″
Recently, my dreams had been the same: the nightmare I had three years ago, on Velvet's ship.
″Tell us about this imaginary friend.″
Oh gosh, I thought. This was going to be so awkward.
″Well...she was like one of those manic pixie dream girl types,″ I began.
″Ramona Flowers?″ Another Beige chimed in. I shook my head.
″No, and not Zooey Deschenel, either. I mean, like, a literal manic pixie dream girl.″
Most of the Beiges started laughing. They kept telling each other what they thought a literal manic pixie dream girl looked like. None of those images quite matched, though. Only the elder seemed to remain interested.
″Go on,″ they instructed.
″Well, when I told you guys three years ago that I was saved by Velvet and Conrad, it wasn't exactly true. They brought me here, sure, but the one who saved me was someone, or something, else entirely.″
There were murmurs now.
″Go on,″ the elder once again said.
″She claimed she was my guardian angel. She floated around, calling herself 'Euphoria.' I thought Euphy was a better name and she took it. She claimed she wanted to make me happy. As we went through the company's underground base of operations in my city, she was able to bend reality, or so it seemed. She stopped guards from shooting them and made their weapons happy, made them happy, everything was about happiness when it came to her. Against all odds, and logic, she saved me from dying by the hands of a hologram known as Professor Etna. Even though Etna claimed that her company, and I guess by extension, The Flashbulb, controlled Euphy.″
″Could it be?″ One muttered.
″No way...″ Muttered another.
They all looked freaked out, like someone just called the cops. It must have been the paranoia setting in.
I decided I should add just one more thing. ″I'm not sure if she was really there, though, or if I just had really good luck. I mean, my memories are really fuzzy and I could have just made the whole thing up. Even still, I haven't felt her presence since that day and to this day, I feel a certain emptiness.″
There was a short pause before the elder spoke up once more.
″If The Flashbulb claims to be in possession of something like that, they're done for,″ the elder laughed. It wasn't a genuine laugh, but one of fear. ″They've really done it this time. We're ALL screwed!″
″What do you mean?″ I asked.
″We have tales of such a being. No one knows where it comes from, or if it has an origin at all, but its actions are the same wherever it goes: each world it visits, happiness is spread. We never thought we would hear of such a being again.″
″How is that a bad thing?″
″You don't understand. Happiness, true happiness, is not an emotion. It is a state. Many, including The Flashbulb, would consider it a calm, a sense of contentment. But that's not it at all. What this being brings is a state of destructive bliss. A terrible mania. The Flashbulb probably thought they could control it, use it to further their goals, but they will learn the awful truth: that it cannot be controlled. It cannot be contained. It acts on its own desires, volition, and if let loose, will bring about a swift end to the Earth.″
I gulped. ″Well, if it's been three years and nothing's happened, she must have left, right?″
″We can only hope. Otherwise we're all doomed! Doomed, bruh!″
″I...I...what if I...″ The words were trying to form. No, not just the words. Who I was, what I was meant for. I finally knew what I wanted. ″What if I were to talk to her? Convince her to do the right thing and let things be? Or convinced her to use her abilities to benefit the world?″
″'She' cannot be reasoned with. 'She' cannot simply be talked to. What do you care, anyway? You should be lucky she's gone and you still have your mind intact!″
″She made me happy!″ I shouted, my own voice scaring me. The elder didn't seem deterred.
″That's what 'she' does. You're just experiencing withdrawal.″
″I don't care! I want to see her...just one more time...″ Tears began to well up, but I wiped them away. It was dumb to cry; I knew how I would do it.
″Semi-related question: is there any way to create more than one of you without cloning yourself or making a hologram?″
″No. Why do you ask?″
″No reason!″ I answered, grinning now. Another elder, one who wasn't present, probably knew why I asked.
″I'll find a way. I'll bring happiness to the world and save it as well!″ I declared.
″Child, your motivation is admirable. If you do not succeed, you are welcome back here.″
″Thank you,″ I replied with complete sincerity, even though I already knew I would succeed.
#happiness overload#writing#stories#ancient aliens#frogs#stoner aliens#gay frogs#long chapter#sorry not sorry#epwrites#scifi
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So one thing I get a lot when I’m using my cane is people asking me why I don’t just switch hands when things get awkward for me. (Like if the railing is on the right side or I need to shake hands or something.) I use my right hand to use my cane. I only use my right hand to use my cane.
Wanna know why? Because you have to train your body to use a cane. The muscles on my left side are entirely different from the ones on my right side. Like you can see the difference just by looking at my arms. Right arm has cane muscles, left arm has muscles because I use it for literally everything else. Groceries, books/purse, doors, etc. Believe me, my back/neck/leg muscles are different on each side, too. Years of conditioning have done that.
I started using my cane when I was about 20 years old, so ~7 years ago. I should’ve started long before then, but, well, cure culture. Most of my family and friends were not supportive of me coming to think of myself as disabled rather than, idk, temporarily inconvenienced by an incurable disease. (I have a lot of thoughts on how doctors (at least used to) mislead POTS patients on the likelihood of getting better, but that’s another rant.) So I finally ended up just buying a cane myself along with a manual wheelchair (well, the cane I bought on my own; I worked with my parents to get the wheelchair -- they’re super expensive) and I started the agonizing journey of learning to use them on my own.
‘Coz here’s what they don’t tell you: it hurts. Holy fuck, it hurts. The day after the first time I used a manual wheelchair on my own, I was literally bedridden. My hands were frozen into gnarled claws. Like I literally could not unbend my fingers. It hurt so badly. And the cane training wasn’t quite as bad, but still truly painful. You have to train a lot of muscles that your body just isn’t used to using. It’s not just getting used to balancing a certain way, which is hard enough on its own; it’s specialized conditioning of muscles. Like admittedly I have a lot of chronic pain anyway, but I was shocked by how much it hurt. No one warned me. No one knew, I guess.
So not only did no one warn me about the immense amount of pain involved with this training, no one helped me with it. I don’t just mean, like, fetching me ice and heating pads. I mean, no one taught me how to change a cane’s height or how high it should be relative to your body or how wearing gloves helped when it came to using a wheelchair. I just bought a cane at random; I didn’t know about the different kinds of grips or tips or the best way to replace them. No one even taught me about the different places you can buy canes, I just ended up searching on Amazon.
Like. Think about this for a second. Think about how fucked up this is. My cane is something I use in daily life. Before I started using it, I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything alone because I fell and/or fainted so often. Using a cane gives me the ability to stand up on my own, rest on my own, change positions without fear -- like it’s an utter necessity. And no one even thought to recommend I try one. They recommended pills and other medical attempts at a cure, sure! But no one, not my family, friends, or the legions of doctors, tried to teach me how to live my life to its fullest using assistive devices. I had to do all that research, all that trial and error, on my own. I have the scars to prove it.
Honestly, I think a lot of people with injuries/disabilities could benefit from learning how to use assistive devices. I think we have this ingrained idea that you have to reach a certain level of disability before you’re “disabled enough” to use things like canes or wheelchairs or hearing aids or any other assistive device. I thought that way for a long time, but my life has improved exponentially since I learned to just accept that these devices make things easier, and that’s enough reason right there to start using them. I think we need to remove the stigma behind using assistive devices, we need to make it easier to get them, and goddamn we have to teach people how to use them. I shudder to think about what it was like pre-internet. (And jfc, stop saying things like “wheelchair-bound”, that only adds to the stigma and misinformation surrounding assistive devices.)
Like all we’re doing is making it even harder for people with disabilities -- and believe me, that shit’s hard enough on its own. Societally-speaking, we really seem to have this horrible, detrimental idea that assistive devices should only be used by, idk, the ~worst of the worst~, and when you give in and start using one, you’ve basically “given up”. It’s a terrible way to think about lifesaving, life-changing technology. Would you think about glasses or contact lenses the same way you think about a wheelchair? Of course not. Glasses have become utterly normalized even though they’re assistive devices just like the rest. So hey, let’s normalize the rest of them, too. Make it easier to get and use these things, and maybe change some lives for the better.
#also would you just remove a stranger's glasses? no!! so stop taking my fucking cane#ableism#just me
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This Rare Robin Boyd Original Makes An Extraordinary Family Home
This Rare Robin Boyd Original Makes An Extraordinary Family Home
Homes
Fiona Killackey
This original Robin Boyd-designed house in Warrandyte is now the family home of writer, strategist and podcast host Emma Clark Grattan, furniture maker Lee Grattan, and their children Archer and Jehtro. The original house on the block burned down in 1962, and the owners commissioned Robin Boyd to design this new house in 1963. The house is clad with steel, which is quite unusual for the celebrated architect, but part of the brief was that the house was fire-resistant. Landscaping by Emma and Lee. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
The couple updated the original kitchen, but kept the same custom handles as Robin Boyd used. ‘I soaked them in vinegar and put them back all new in the kitchen’, Emma explains. Drinks cabinet, bench seats, mirror and table made by Lee. Kilim runner from Gumtree. Milk & Sugar Hunter Pendant Lampshade. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Original wall light and Tasmanian Oak flooring. The couple painted the pantry door to break up the timber in the house. Baskets collected over the years now hide the kids’ sports and winter clothing. Artwork next to the fridge was a gift from friends Ace Wagstaff and Sam George. Steel and timber stools made by Lee. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
The family photo wall. ‘We started sticking up a few photos when we first moved in, but now they’ve taken over the whole kitchen wall!’ Emma says. The house is built so every room has a view of the treetops on the Yarra. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
The living room. Guitars and Victorian ash sideboard built by Lee, weaving by Emma. Leather couch from Grandfather’s Axe. Coffee table and green chairs found on the side of the road and restored by Lee. Galah print by Erstwhile. Ice cream planter from Third Drawer Down. Original chrome wall scones. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Timber guitars made by Lee. Plush guitar on bottom left made by Emma for Lee’s birthday a few years ago. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
‘Lee got the desk from Great Dane, but it was broken and in pieces so they were going to throw it out. He managed to restore it and we’ve dragged it from house to house’. Lamp is an original Planet lamp bought for a dollar from a church sale in Warrandyte. Clock from IKEA. Geo dresser made by Lee. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Original bookshelves. Couch from Grandfather’s Axe. The narrow windows face south-west and capture the sunset. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Cane outdoor setting bought for $50 on Gumtree. Table and kid’s chairs built by Lee. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Emma, Lee, Jethro and Archie. ‘Warrandyte is a wonderful place to live with kids. It’s got a community and village feel. We literally have the Yarra Valley behind us and the city in the other direction’, Emma tells. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Emma and Lee added the ensuite on, and managed to fit in a walk in wardrobe too! Lee built all the cabinetry and Emma tiled the floor. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Details on the family photo wall. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Left: A mobile made from banana leaves, bought 10 years ago by Emma at a market in Tanzania. Right: The original owners had four kids and all the walls were painted with limewash, which was stained from years of Blue-tack and nail holes. Emma and Lee painted the bedrooms pale grey, but the colour changes depending on the colour of the sky. Mirror built by Lee. Weaving by Emma. An assortment of pictures and artworks made by the couple or gifted by creative friends like Melanie Knight, Sam George and Netti Wagner. Bedding from In Bed. Rug by Arro Home. Cane chair belongs to Emma’s mum. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
The kids’ room. Original orange plastic lampshade. Emma and Lee bought the bunks in a weekend from bits of wood in the shed. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Lee’s brother made the A&J banner for the boys’ birthday a few years ago. Lee made the drawers. Rainbow from Big Dreams. Photo – Caitlin Mills. Styling – Annie Portelli.
Author John Ed Pearce once suggested that, ‘home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to’. Despite not quite being ‘old’, for many parents of young children, the suburbs they grew up in begin to seem infinitely more desirable as they long for a similar upbringing for their own kids.
For Emma Clark Gratton, content strategist, writer and co-host of The New Normal podcast (alongside Tess McCabe), the idea of returning to the suburb she grew up in was initially daunting. ‘I grew up here’ says Emma Clark Gratton, ‘And I was like, we’re never moving back to Warrandyte! But we had the kids when we were in our last house in the inner north. It was a terrace and the backyard was tiny; the kids used to just run in circles. It wasn’t a good way to live.’ Emma’s husband, Lee (founder of Gratton Design) grew up on a farm in Queensland. ‘He was like, ‘we need space!’ so we knew at some point we might move’.
But the ‘some point’ happened a lot sooner than they had expected. ‘Lee was on a bike riding trip for a fortnight, and I was busy getting Archie into a nearby school and then I was looking online one day and saw this ‘Yarra Yarra’ house come up on The Modernist Australia website. I was like, ‘Oh my God, it’s Warrandyte! I came out and looked at it and made an offer. Then I texted Lee and said, ‘We’re going to buy a house’ and he was like, ‘Sorry, what?’
Despite Lee only seeing the house on the day of the auction, he instantly joined Emma in appreciation of the hilltop views, riverside location and the idea of living in a Robin Boyd original. After securing the four-bedroom home at auction from its original owners, The Arnold family, the couple set to work restoring it, carefully adhering to the heritage restrictions of the property. This included re-doing the kitchen which was ‘just really low and narrow’, with new cabinetry and tiling, renovating the master bedroom and adding a walk-in wardrobe, fixing the ceilings ‘which hung down a bit’ and adding solar panels, amongst many other small tweaks. The spectacular views, seen through floor to ceiling windows in every room, take centre stage alongside a beautifully designed interior full of Gratton furniture, retro finds and a muted colour palette.
Outside, the couple landscaped, with help from Emma’s brother, and added a separate workspace for Lee to design and create for his business (in addition to his larger workshop in Blackburn). While Emma says there’s still some work to do – ‘There’s a fourth bedroom downstairs which we want to make into more of a guest room’ – Yarra Yarra is well on its way to being this family’s forever home. ‘I feel like we’re never moving again. This is it’.
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LIE BACK AND THINK OF...ENGLAND
Hello...Back once more from a jolly jaunt to the motherland, various weeks of mental and physical bad health interspersed with bursts of good humour and rabid hypo-mania. So nice to be trapped in my mind when alcohol free. So of course started smoking because I need some kind of pacifier. Back to Prague for blood tests again. Another temporary reprieve today, collapsing into coherence as all good systems should. Augmented chords are mysterious, the diminished are tension...unlike some sequences I could mention. Shame the owners of this site have used an algorithm to delete various pictures on my blog which involve nipples, regardless of whether they are actually from classical paintings. Art is being censored...Anyway...enjoying my middle aged adolescence, planning ahead for obsolescence...greetings to the readers from Canes Ventaci, why so Sirius? Smiling is healthy...
Who is the one who is living me now? Da Free John
Religious news/olds...The pope says the church must never again hush up any abuse from its priests (in 2019, that's about (count them) one thousand, nine hundred and something days since the Church was founded with the help of a corrupt Emperor Constantine. Seems like a long time for a Christian group to get to show actual kindness, openness and morality huh? )Well Spotlight fans, it's a start eh? Compassion for your enemies and redemption for all. Or not.
Only found out last month that the word Guru literally means heavy. As in serious. Hmm...or OM AH HUM if you prefer. Well Buddha looks quite hefty eh?
Asshat in Syria appears to have won and sees no shame in having started a war in which hundreds of thousands of his own people have been murdered and/or 'vanished', all for the sake of putting shopkeepers and students who protested for more freedom in their place. Chemical weapons, mass genocide and now a puppet state of Iran and Russia. Well, otherwise it would have been beholden to the USA and that is never a good thing either, ask Britain. Perhaps we can leave America after Europe and become the proud third world prison island to which we have been heading for the last few decades. Oh I am in a good mood this evening.
WOOL..a nice little village in England...received a letter from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) politely suggesting/demanding that they change their name, as the way in which wool is sheared from sheep is aggressive and cruel. Etc. As if being under attack from the Far Left and Right is not enough, the vegans and snowflakes are rising fast to destroy the last vestigial tails of sanity. 1984 meets the Matrix and Kafka and Huxley have a love/hate-child. For the record, I despise tally ho 'good sport' fox hunting as much as I do animal liberation maniacs. (Yes, I do like animals,...wolves, hawks, black panthers, butterflies, intelligent dogs and dolphins. And Krtek.) Wool will keep their name. So far. Amen. Oh Man...
Gender neutral EU parliament...most words with 'man' in them have all been replaced with less 'specific' terms. When I was a boy and I heard the term Mankind, I never thought of men, I thought of people all over the world. Shame so many adults cannot do this too...but wait, the EU...they have substituted mankind with Humanity. (Doesn't that have man in it too?) I would LOVE to be present at one of these meetings where such semantically diseased people meet to waste life with such pointless new guidelines and turn a psychic death ray on them.
At some point, one hopes that folk will swing back away from these extremes and find the middle path of balance. But I don't think it is likely. People will always have ideas because they have brains of varying types and according to nature or nurture and their egos, can make the most mind screwingly dumb thoughts into reality...but for this to happen in a widespread way, requires someone at the end of the process, who, when presented with such, has to approve of, validate, wave it on as a new legally accepted norm. These are some of the people with whom I would most like to have 'a word'. Know what I mean?
Meanwhile new buzz phrases abound...'I self identify as a'...fill in the blank. Choose your gender, you don't even have to have an operation or hormone replacement, just announce it to the universe and be free. However, an opinion is not a truth. (of course I include my own writings in this) If you KNOW you are in the wrong body, CHANGE your body. Hands up (in the air) all those who can remember a time when 'Gender fluid' just meant... fill in the blank again.
Reminds me that Israel is still trying to push the fallacy (into a new globally accepted law) that criticising its government or latest in a line of corrupt leaders equates with racist anti Semitism. It isn't. No more than saying something critical of Angela Merkel for her immigration policy would mean the speaker is a sexist/misogynist. Or a hater of Germans. Same way that mentioning a self identifying sportswoman with a penis who has not yet had the op or hormone therapy is still a man until they commit fully to the sex they feel and know they are and is perhaps not ok to compete with other women while testosterone is in their blood...is not 'transphobic', just stating the obvious. And...
Lesbians who refuse to sleep with a self identifying woman with a penis are also not transphobic, they are making a choice about who and what they will sleep with. If one is not turned on by another human being, then they are not turned on by them. Of course, this is just an opinion and therefore quite possibly not a truth. But it seems reasonable and inoffensive eh? Unless you are a radical transpansexual. In which case my truthful opinion is that all radicals are mentally unstable dangerous lunatics to be avoided. Or try beetroot and carrot juice to eliminate the free radicals....
(That all said, I recall reading some years ago that one of the ultimate forms of humanity/was to be both sexes as one. So who knows? Not me, I never lost control, ha ha. Face to face with the womb man who sold the world. Would bring a whole new meaning to 'go f yourself'. Hermaphrodites come together in the end, alpha/ omega...)
'Nine months to get out, he said, and the rest of our fool lives trying to get back in'.
Perhaps this could be wonderful, with all identities blending into one understanding of life on this planet, were it not for the surplus of those types who will use every opportunity to mislead and manipulate for profit and power. At a school in Brighton (of course) in England, plans have been approved to teach children that all genders can menstruate. Yes, really. Why should 'girls' have all the fun eh? This is where we seem to be heading at greater and greater speed. Absolute bollocks/ovaries being taught as factual lessons. (Hmmm...a brief look with a third eye at history and stories accepted as fact and it can be seen that this is not all that new.)
Putin's evil genius plan to continue being president after his term runs out (under current constitutional rules) is to absorb Belorusssia. Russia thus becoming a new federation which will need a new constitution and to hold an election which he will win. When that runs out, no doubt he will take over/invade/absorb Ukraine etc totally and go on until he is dead. Or everyone else is. Alpha males, huh?
Speaking of which...More hours of CNN and their seemingly accurate reportage of all the utter, dreadful bullcrap from the useful idiot (for Moscow) Trump. Gleefully dissecting every nonsense statement from the blonde succubus's poison mouth. January 23rd, America remains in shutdown as he plays chicken with his entire country. Who will blink first? Reptiles can go for a long time without this. 'Waves of inquiries' look set to begin against the madman. 'Impeach the mother......' indeed. But after such a concentrated amount of watching and reading the news and the colossal amount of negative light, ah do believe I have had enuff again.
'I am He that was and is and shall be'. Apparently, Beethoven had this written down by his own hand on his desk from Egyptian Book of the Dead. 'Serenity is a problem when you've been this close to Heaven.'
('....thus, while the tangible has advantages, it is the intangible that makes it useful' Tao te Ching. Perhaps I will (or should) leave more blanks in this. Does every void need to be filled? China is now on the dark side of the moon, that just asks for a song to be written. Feel safe? Huawei, ha ha ha to everyone who bought their stuff.)
The Czech Republic (while still Czechoslovakia) had a Velvet Revolution, Russia has Pussy Riot and Britain has...? The old cliché true for the greater part was that in the First World War, the common soldiery were 'lions led by donkeys'. These days the majority of the 'common' folk seem like donkeys being led by the greedy into a knackers yard to be slaughtered for meat and glue. Here comes Brexit on a wave of misplaced expectation of regaining control over our destiny. Seems unlikely when the group mind of my country has sunk so deep into entropy, but that is just an opinion. Arf. 'Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way'.Roger Waters.
The young are still in favour of Corbybn and his highly dubious vision, regardless of the radical Momentum behind him who are very likely being supported financially by the Kremlin. Goddess bless our proud snowflake youth! Not going to be many 'safe spaces' available kids if he wins...Socialism with an inhuman face. Students in the West have yet to learn how evil this stuff is. For decades they have demonstrated against fascists real and imaginary, Conservative Thatcher policy, Republican reactionary hogwash etc. Perhaps they need to experience at first hand just what their student brethren in the East did from the end of the second world war to 1989. And beyond. The far Left sucks as hard as the far Right. Not all revolutionaries are as cool as Che Guevara. Kids, study China, Venezuela, Cuba, North Korea and other Socialist paradises, (if only for one hot hour) their governments kill a considerable amount more of their own people than do the democratic Western governments. There is a reason for this. All governments seek to control the narrative of what is taught in schools but not all of them kill you for questioning the story.
Perhaps we deserve it, Britain has been coasting along, running on empty for a very long time now. The two faced 'civilised' Christian moral vacuum is being filled with many other equally unpleasant qualities. Optimism becomes a serious challenge when you are aware that some times various fires must run their course in order to burn out. Like Man. Just hope that the scorched earth policy of most of the global mode of thinking allows a spring to appear in the future. Or get the world leaders to an Alice in Wonderland party for mushroom tea. That might very well speed up the process of illumination before the Rubicon is crossed. Perhaps it has been.
'Intelligence is the capacity to receive, decode and transmit information efficiently.' So how well are we all doing as a race? Call Pleaides 666 023 093...
True communication only possible between equals....all on different circuits...
Meow she said. Woof, he replied.
Love from the dog star.
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I just bought my first motorcycle today, and I'm enrolled in the msf course but it dosn't start for a few weeks. Can i still ride my bike legally?""
Why are car insurance companies trying to make me go bankrupt?
Okay, this is extremely frustrating. I'm a 19 year old student, who works part time. I have all-state insurance full coverage, and I drive a 2001 toyota tacoma, which is paid off. And guess how much Allstate charges me every 6 months? $750!!!!!!!!!!!! That is absolutely ridiculous. These son of a bitches are totally ridiculous charging me that. I've never had a ticket, never been in an accident. And I don't care if i'm 19 that price is absolutely absurd for that car. I'm almost at the point where I just wanna go illegal and drive without insurance. I'm looking sleep every night over this I mean seriously do they think a 19 year old college student is made of money. And the funny thing is it's under my parents policy and its this much!!!""
New health insurance law I'm so confused?
My husband is half Indian so he can go to the Indian clinic whenever he wants and it's free. Does that mean he still needs insurance?
Insurance costs between 1.0 and 1.4?
i just got my driving licence and im trying to buy used car.. im looking at insurance prices and was wondering how much difference i would have between 1.4 engine and 1.0. im in my mid 20's and was wondering if u could get a car with bigger engine then 1.0 and still pay reasonable price im looking for only few years old small car.. nothing flashy.
Where do I buy car insurance online?
Need to buy car insurance online and do not know how to go about it.
How much will my insurance go up?
I recently crash my car into a bush going 50 with 4 other people in it. The car costed $2000 and I totaled my car and the police came. My 6 months weren't up so I wasn't supposed to have anyone in the car with me so I got a ticket for that and I got a ticket for reckless driving plus my license suspended. How much will my insurance go up?
Lapsed insurance....?
ok so basically i sideswiped someone the other day and my insurance was lapsed, but their insurance is going to cover it but send me the bill right.... so how does that work?""
Can you get medical insurance on a motorcycle?
If I were to buy a bike could I get medical insurance on the bike that covered any injuries that I could get if I got hurt on the bike. Also how much do you think it would cost? Any web sites I could go too?
Car insurance questions (Still on parent's plan)?
I have a few questions... Is there a set age where I can no longer be on my mom's car insurance? Or is it completely up to her? For example can two adults (both in their 40's) be on the same insurance? I am 19. I currently live with my mom. If I were to move out, can I still be on her insurance? If I don't go to college, can I still be on her insurance? I heard you need to be a full time student to be on a parent's insurance? If I were to buy a car, would it have to be in her name?""
""Im 17 i hve a 1.4 citroen saxo west coast, nd te lowst insurance ive found is 2300! cn an1 suggest a company?""
ive tried all the compairson sites and they are really expensive, can anyone suggest a cheaper insurance company? i love my car and dont want to sell it!""
Are there any states that don't require auto insurance?
I don't like paying for insurance so I was wondering if I could avoid it by moving.
Car accident/insurance.?
Okay, three days ago I got into a car accident, I drive an SUV and the other party drives a Toyota Camry. Save for a few scratches on the bumper, my car is fine, the other woman on the other hand says she can't open her door and the front right light and part of the bumper is damaged. I told her I would cover the damages if we could keep this from the insurance companies. She agreed, but is now saying she is in pain . No one called the cops and she was at fault, I CAN NOT afford to have an accident on my rec as I'm only 18, what to do? I said I'd pay as my car is fine and as a thanks for staying mum. Now shes called her insurance company and claims she got an estimate of $3,600 for the car and medical.""
Do you need insurance in florida to drive with a learners permit? with a liscence?
In florida do teens need insurance to drive their parents cars with a learners permit? once you get a liscence can you drive their car without being included on the insurance as long as theyre in the car? the car has insurance im just not listed on the policy
Insurance write off question?
My car has recently been declared an insurance write off, basically a young guy (17) pulled out of a side road T-Bone ing me, causing me to be pushed into a tree, all the under body of my car was twisted and it would cost more to repair than the car is worth. The problem is my car isn't worth anything ( Peugeot 206). Someone is going to phone me tomorrow to discuss a settlement figure, I'd like 2k, (I paid 4k) 2.5 years ago for it. How much am I likely to get as an insurance write off, bearing in mind the other driver had admitted full liability and blame. It was a 2005 Peugeot 206 with 70k miles, one previous owner with a recent mot ( 2 weeks ago) also I've just paid for 12 months tax ( last month) can I reclaim this somehow? Thank You As for the other driver. I spoke to the police office who attended the scene and he went to his house yesterday to interview him, apparently he can do him for dangerous driving and give him points, as he was 17 I bet he will get caned on his insurance renewal, which is some comfort I guess :)""
How much will it cost for an 18 year old to insure a BMW M3?
I am an 18 year old, I've just passed my car test and I want a 2002 - 2004 BMW M3 (1.8 - 2.0l) I will not settle for anything less better-looking than a BMW. I also just passed my full motorcycle test 2 months ago. I have 2 years no claims bonus for my Motorcycle insurance since I started riding at the age of 16. I'm planning to sell my current motorcycle and buy a reasonable BMW M3 priced around 2-3k I was wondering what kind of insurance I should be expecting? I have got way more experience on the roads than any other 18 year old out there; but I'm not so sure that the insurance companies will take in mind my 2 years NCB on my motorcycle. Either way; how much could I be expecting to pay? I'm going to be insured as the 2nd driver and hopefully not pay more than 4k anually? The comparison websites are just bull crap, they are quoting my prices of over 20k, even for a small ford ka. I know I know big car young driver - but please just answer my question :) Thanks in advance.""
Can She Still Get Health Insurance?
My girlfriend and I are moving out to South Dakota in a few months and I was wondering if she would still be covered under her mom's insurance. She is a full-time student and lives with her mother in Wyoming goes to school in Nebraska. She will however be living with me in South Dakota but still a full-time student. Is she still covered under her mothers insurance even though she will not be living under her mother's roof? Thanks!
How can I get my own insurance?
I'm 17 years old. My dad can't afford insurance because he has 4 kids and they won't give him free insurance. I live in Georgia. I need insurance cause I end up having to pay BY MYSELF like 90$ to go to the doctor. I also don't think it's okay to not have insurance. So what do I do? Where do I do this? Would they allow a 17 year old to get insurance by their self (being a minor)
Quick question about RENTERS INSURANCE?
My fiance and i are renting out a house starting Feb. 1st. After a year we have an option to buy the house. Anyways, when we were looking at the house she said her dad wants us to get renters insurance before we move in. I'm guessing because of the fireplace, attic, etc. Do i need to get any info from her before i sign up for insurance? Where do i go to get this? ANY sort of info would be great. We're new to renters insurance. We live in an apartment complex right now with NO insurance.""
What are some cheap Auto Insurance Quotes for Oregon?
I am looking for a cheap and reliable auto insurance company for just liability insurance. I have had one accident back in 2009, totaling my dads toyota 4-Runner and wrecking into an Audi A4. As well, I have 2 tickets on my record, both happened in 2008, the first one I got was running a stop sign and the second one (which happened literally the next day.. by the same cop) I got an illegal lane change or turning into a turning lane to early I cant remember which one it would fall under. Some of the quotes I got have been like 350 $$ which is way out of my price range. Anybody have any good ideas? I'd appreciate it.""
How can I find an affordable psychiatrist without insurance?
I would like to see a psychiatrist to treat my depression but I don't have health insurance. (I applied for private health insurance but was denied based on my medical history.) ...show more
What is the most affordable life insurance and health insurance?
What is the most affordable life insurance and health insurance?
I was a passenger in a car accident. The car was not at fault. Will my insurance go up?
Also, just to know, assuming that the car I was in had been at fault, would MY insurance go up?. Again, I was not driving.""
business health insurance quotes online
business health insurance quotes online
Car Insurance Fine costs driving without insurance on one car but had 3rd party on another?
Being a bit stupid I didnt relise I had to inform my insurance company that I changed cars and was stopped by the police for no insurance even though they proved that I had insurance on my previous vehicle 3rd party whic
Moped insurance?
I'm 16 and I'm wanting to get a moped. Does the law require that you carry insurance on mopeds? Thanks.
How much would car insurance on a nissan GT R cost?
How much would car insurance on a nissan GT R cost?
What is the Maximum car insurance firms are LEGALLY ALLOWED to charge you monthly on a vehicle?
Let's take for example a Buick Lacrosse. What if people realized that the car had potential to be modified into a race car. So people start racing them, And there are 100 accidents a day caused by the drivers of those Buicks. How much can car insurance charge people? Is the maximum $1000/month? Is there no limit?""
Ok where can someone get health insurance?
ok where can someone get health insurance to get a vasectomy reversal is there any health insurance that helps pay for that
""Is 4,800 a good insurance quote these days for a 17 year old?""
those days of insurance being 2,500 have gone last year. i cant get lower than 4.8k""
Average health insurance costs?
I pay $69.70 for health insurance every two weeks from BC/BS. My co-pay is $25 per visit to the Dr. $60 for urgent care, and $100 for a trip to the ER. I realize that this is not a comprehensive listing of everything I get with the policy, but is there a way to find out if this is around the average that most companies offer their employees on a group plan? Thanks in advance for any insight.""
How much do you pay a month for car insurance...?
I pay $112.
I and my friend were thinking to buy a car. He is much older than me. How should we do insurance in this case?
In this case who should be primary driver on insurance policy? me or my friend? How does it matter in terms of insurance premium? My friend will be driving the car much more than me.
What is an average homeowners insurance quote for a house in Oregon? ?
We are interested in buying an 1800 sqft house built in 2009 in the Portland metro area. Would $800 a year be an good estimate?
I am 55 yrs old.Have lost my husband.Can I be covered under my daughter's health insurance thru her job?
I am 55 yrs old.Have lost my husband.Can I be covered under my daughter's health insurance thru her job?
Looking for a good insurance company to represent in California?
I'm a licensed insurance agent in California. I've been through 3 firms in 3 years and did not make much money at all. Now I'm working retail waiting to get back in the game while my license is just wasting away. Please, no AFLAC or World Financial Group referrals. Training is non-existent at AFLAC and the WFG people were absent of integrity. Could anyone recommend a good company to work for that is structured and has a good training program. Thank you.""
""Im paying $1,000 every 6months for my car insurance, and im 19 years old.?""
Does anybody know of any cheap insurance companies that I can get a quote from? I really REALLY need to find a different company, because I cant afford that much. Please help! (I live in California if that helps)""
Getting added on to my parents auto insurance?
ok well i just got my license and want to get added onto my parents insurance and a want to know an estimate on how much it would cost for me to do that. Im a 17 year old male and my parents have AIG. So please help me
What are the best Car Insurance Websites online?
There are tons of car insurance websites, how do I know which will give me the lowest insurance?""
What is an Average Home insurance rate of a 2 story house?
4.5 baths 5 beds 3000 sq feet finished basement 3 decks 1 fenced in gorund pool Please, just and average for 1 month home insurace. No super valuables or anything. (It's for a project) I just can't find anything that won't just give me a chart or some thing. In class we had to make up an imaginary house and get all this different stuff for it. I've found everything,but home insurance rate without having to put in my personal info.""
How can I find affordable healthcare coverage for my employees.?
I have a small business, 5 employees and my rates are outragous!!! Please let me know how I can provide this benefit for my employees without spending so much. Thank you for any ...show more""
Why is my car insurance company charging me 2 premiums?
I go through farmers insurance and last month I paid a premium of 94.42 and now this month I'm being charged a premium of $83.70 plus a renewal adjustment of $7.27 does this mean my car insurance is always going to be this high? It was only $67 last 6 month cycle.
What would the cost of insurance be for a 16 year old driving a 1994 3000GT Mitsubishi?
What would the cost of insurance be for a 16 year old driving a 1994 3000GT Mitsubishi?
How much was your auto insurance at 18 year olds?
How much was your auto insurance at 18 year olds?
Good insurance for young drivers on luxury cars?
i'm looking to get insured on a 2011 bmw x5 m sport 3.0D, i'm 19. I cant seem to find an insurance company that will insure me however there must be a way even if its ridiculously expensive, recently in the newspaper there was a guy from london with a provisional license insured on a ferrari as his first car. So yeah just wondering if you guys know any good car insurance companies for specific needs? Thanks""
Whats the car insurance trick?
you know the ads that say you could pay $36 a month for car insurance in ga? whats the trick?
Where do I get insurance if I am a driving instructor?
Where do I get insurance if I am a driving instructor?
""New driver, teen car insurance?""
does anyone know about how much the average teen's car insurance is? im 17 and looking for a car, i have $1750 in my bank account... about how much would car insurance cost me? and how much do i have to pay upfront? i know its sometimes cheaper if you have good grades, and i have straight a's. can anyone help me? thanks!""
""Please help, how much will I be paying for car insurance?""
I am a 20 year old female. I didn't complete high school, but I will get my GED and go to school next fall. I'm getting a car this Feb when taxes come back and I'm buying no more then a good decent $3000 car. I have a child too so I heard that helps bring the insurance down a little. Because the car will be under my name, & I am the ONLY driver in this house hold so there will be only 1 person on the insurance, how much do u think I could be paying a month??? Any guess for wage? I want full coverage but if its more then 300 a month i will go half. I've had my permit to since I was 17, no accidents. Please help.""
business health insurance quotes online
business health insurance quotes online
Heallth insurance for the self employed?
I need dental and health insurance for an affordable price. I am unmarried.... what can I do? who offers it? how much will it cost?
Need help with my car insurance. . . ?
i need some help cos i'm pretty confused so i bought a car at the start of the year, took out a loan to get it, etc and I have been having no problems paying it off so that was going fine. than two months ago i had a huge crash which totalled my car. It wasn't deemed my fault or the other person's fault. I did have full comprehensive insurance, but i missed two payments. I remember recieving a letter saying if i kept missing these payments then my insurance would be cancelled. Than when i put my claim in to get my insurance on my car through after the crash, they said i had recieved a letter syaing that my insurance had been cancelled due to lack of payments. I'm confused, i didn't get that letter. now, i have no car and am still paying off that loan. Is there any way I can fix this. I don't think i would be able to get another loan for another car, and i don't want to put myself into that much debt, but i really do need a car help?!?!?!""
Car insurance?
what happens if you have liability car insurance and a guy that smashes your car hits you and he doesnt have any insurance? are you covered or are you screw ed?
How much would it cost to add me on my dads insurance to drive his car? UK?
The car is a 2001 peugeot 206, 1.4 engine Personal information: I'm 17. Work stacking shelves in a super-market. No previous criminal offenses/anything bad related to vehicles. I need the car to commute to college every day, work and the gym. (Need anything else? .. If so, Ill add details)""
""If someone is driving your car and they get a ticket, does it affect your insurance rates?
Will it make your insurance higher?
Health insurance help..family of 6?
we got denied Medicaid in our state, said we make to much money. we cant afforded it our works don't have it. where can i go to get at least a RX card or something?? or a place that has affordable insurance?""
Question regarding life insurance for children?
I have 6 children between the ages of 19 and 3..so i am interested in buying a life insurance that will cover college expenses, but i don't know which one to go for..does anyone know if gerber life insurance would be a good option?""
Can a 16year old drive an 18years old car if the 18year old is on the parents insurance with statefarm?
The 16 year old will be on the parents insurance as well
About how much does General liability insurance?
Any Independent Contractors out there that could give me an idea about how much it cost, because I have no idea.""
Do I need car insurance the moment I get my provisional license (CA)?
I'll be going out for my provisional drivers license tomorrow, and I was wondering whether I need car insurance if I do get my provisional license. My parents are planning to allow me to get my provisional license, but won't add me to their policy until a year down the road. Am I allowed to drive alone with my provisional license as long as the car I'm driving is insured by my parents? (California)""
Honda city - 4 wheeler insurance -?
for a new honda city 2012 model, what will be the yearly insurance for it. for 31 yr old with 2 yrs of 4 wheeler driving record how to shop for cheap 4 wheeler insurance...and what to look for while buying it this is in chennai -""
Best insurance company for a jewelry store?
I need and insurance company to insure my jewelry store. So far I found jewelers mutual but they're expensive.
Good health insurance company?
Hi guys im new to kansas and im looking for a good health insurance company which also affordable any suggestion ??? thnx
How much (roughly) would car insurance for this car be a year?
im going to be 15 when i would be driving it and its a 1998 Lincoln Navigator and im with state farm and i will be added onto my moms policy and my sisters also on it and my mom and my sister have never been in car wrecks and im taking drivers ed and I live in montana (low crime) so about roughly how much would it cost a year for insurance on this car?
Will having motorcycle insurance for a few years help lower auto insurance in the long run?
Will having motorcycle insurance for a few years help lower auto insurance in the long run?
""Car licence ,where to get a cheaper car insurance?""
Hi there, Looking for cheap insurance? Im 17 near 18 ;) yesterday I past my exam and now Ive got the licence, but insurance is so expensive for me. Ive done the compare and the result was 17 000 for a year :( Please any advice to make it cheaper? Thank you all in advance. Cheers and have a good day.""
Where is this affordable healthcare Obama is talking about?
Private insurance is very expensive. No one is telling us where to find an affordable plan. I do not have anything right now because I lost my job and to get the insurance I would have to pay over 4 times what I was paying when I worked.
If an insurance company estimated the damage on my car at $800 and I later find out it is way more can I go ba?
My car got hit, their insurance company sent me to a mechanic shop to get an estimate, they said $823 and the insurance sent me the check. I just took the car to the dealership and they said the damage was $3100, can I go back to the insurance and ask for the difference?""
""Car accident, no insurance?""
Hi, i got into an accident Friday. I was cut off on the highway and when I went on my breaks my car started to skid out of control due to ice. A car in the left lane struck mine. I am on my fathers insurance and found out when I called my insurance company to report the accident that my policy was cancelled last July. My car and registration and insurance is all in my dads name, i am just a registered driver. If the state of RI decides to fine me for not having insurance, or the other driver decides to sue me for it, will that go against my father or myself? Thanks.""
Cheap car insurance?......?
I need to get car insurance to put the title in my name. I am just looking for the cheapest thing out there right now, not too concerned with full coverage right now, just the basics. I will do research and get the one that best suits me later but for right now I just need something fast. Geico's rates were over $100/mo for my car, is that about average? Or is there something cheaper?""
What cheap but reliable family car is best to buy must be auto cheap insurance?
What cheap but reliable family car is best to buy must be auto cheap insurance?
Car Insurance not Paying (in Georgia)?
I was in an accident three weeks ago. It was the other car's fault. There were no injuries. We didn't call the police, but I got a written statement from the other driver admitting fault. I got her car and insurance information and filed a claim with her insurance. They sent an appraiser and I got an estimate for the damages. So all that is left now is for the insurance to approve the estimate and send me a check. I have called the insurance company almost everyday since I got the appraisal (about 2 weeks ago) and they are saying that they are waiting to get in touch with the policy holder; apparently they don't have her correct phone number. But they have the signed statement from her admitting fault. The agent in charge of my claim doesn't even pick up the phone or return my calls, I just talk to the operator who can't really give me any answers. I have the basic car insurance, I don't have collision coverage, so I haven't even called my own insurance. My car is operational but my rear susspension is gone, and the bent metal is hitting my tire; I really need my car rapaired asap. Should I call a lawyer even though there were no injuries? I should probably add that my car is not worth much, but I still need it fixed! and I can't afford (don't want either) to pay for repairs out of my pocket. What should I do? Thanks in advance for your help.""
Liability insurance price for honda civic 2006?
how much is the average liability insurance cost for honda civic 2006 4 door and 32 year married driver with 100% clean driver's history?
How much does a Triple AAA insurance agent make on average?
How does Triple AAA pay their agents? Their agents don't sell Life Insurance right? What all do they sell? How does this job compare to...say a State Farm agent?
Is a 1994 Eagle Talon Esi good for a teen Insurance and Saftey wise?
Hi I am look at an 1994 Eagle Talon and I thinking about buying it. But is it a good car for a teen just for a daily driver? How about the insurance rates will it be high?
business health insurance quotes online
business health insurance quotes online
What is the cheapest car to insure for a 17 year old?
i turned 17 in november and i am really close to passing my driving test, what is the cheapest car to insure? as insurance for girls has gone up to the same as boys :(""
I'm a teenager in need of cheap reliable car insurance.?
I work for myself and I don't want my parents to pay for insurance anymore. I want to know any cheaper insurance companies that will on minimal basis (pay for damage of other driver) of needed. I'm a student studying to become an esthetician and work part time. Thank you.
Cheapest sport cars for teenagers?
What is the best cheapest sport car and the cheapest insurance.
A few questions about health insurance (recent college grad still on parent's insurance)?
I asked a similar question yesterday but realized I was a bit vague. So, here's my situation. I am a recent college grad working a job that does not offer me health insurance, and I receive excellent coverage under my parent's plan. I recently went to a job interview for a position that offers insurance, but I would have to pay a pretty large chunk of change for it monthly ($500+, which is a lot if you're working an entry-level position), and the coverage isn't nearly as good as my current plan. (For example, I currently pay $3 for a three month supply of my prescription. The new plan would charge me $30-90 for the same amount pills). I saw a clause in the Affordable Health Care Act that said I would only be able to do this after January 1st, 2014....I really wish this went into effect in 2013 instead! So, my questions are: Can I opt out of this insurance and remain on their plan? If I were to take this job and the insurance plan, would I be able to re-enroll under their plan if I stopped working at this place and worked at a place that didn't offer insurance? (I'm under 26, and my family's plan covers both my parents and another sibling)""
""What is a good Car Insurance Company. Im in my early 20s, not the greatest driving record.?""
I have had a few speeding tickets, no insurance tickets, ect. 1 accident 6 years ago. I just need good, cheap, liability insurance for my fiance and I""
I'm 17 years old how can i get my insurance premium cheaper please? Any help is appreciated thanks?
Heya i was wondering how a 17 year old guy can get his insurance premium down please thanks
Is it OK for someone else to do car insurance for me?
Basically, will it be fine (in legal terms) for someone else, a friend - to make car insurance on my behalf because I might be busy?? really important!! (im sorry about the tedium of this question)""
What's the best auto insurance for teenagers?
I'm a female, 17 & about to get a car. I was wondering what's the best/cheapest auto insurance for me to get.""
How are car insurance companies regulated?
Are car insurance companies regulated by any state or federal offices?
What would be the insurance on these cars?
What would be the insurance costs for a 16 year old girl for a Nissan Altima 2013 2.5 SV, a 2013 mustang v6 and 2013 honda crv EX? Or what are good websites to price it at?""
What are some affordable car insurance companies?
i have three cars and i have three teens drivers and my dad and im looking for a low cost auto insurance does anybody know any and im also trying to get full coverage
How to get into a new Car Insurance?
About 1.5 yrs back my wife scratched another car while parking. The claim was settled using insurance. The expense was about $1500. Ever since that the insurance company, AAA, has been increasing our premiums by abt $35 on every renewal. Now I cannot switch or shop with other insurance company since they give quotes much higher than this company. But apart from this one incident we do not have anything else on our record. Also I get discount for Home+Auto insurance. The company increased prices on our Home Insurance too. I am badly stuck with this company now. I would like to buy Auto+home from one company itself. But I really cannot move my Auto Insurance. Please give suggestions.""
How much is average home insurance; with a pool?
How much is average home insurance; with a pool?
Which is the best health insurance in india to choose as individual and family floater ?
Which is the best health insurance in india to choose for individual and family floater , which provides annual health check up""
My car insurance is shooting up..looking for a change..Can you help me out in finding the cheap car insurance?
My car insurance is shooting up..looking for a change..Can you help me out in finding the cheap car insurance?
How do I get Certificate of Insurance for photographers?
Which insurance company should I go to for a policy for photographer. A million dollar coverage in NYC. How much does something like this cost for a year coverage.
What is the cheapest car insurance company?
My auto insurance went up AGAIN! I am a safe driver! OHIO mutual is horrible! What is a cheap insurance company? NOT SAFE AUTO>THEY SUCK
WHAT IS BEST LIFE INSURANCE OR FUNERAL INSURANCE.?
a friend asked me this question so i thought id ask you guy's out there. we are both single guy in hour early and mid 30's,both receive a DSP_pension,live separately were just mates,no dependants both smoke cig's yes were slowly giving em up we live in Tasmania,Australia and are wondering what would be best for a single person life or funeral insurance,is there a difference between them,does life insurance cover for your funeral expenses.IVE ask CENTRELINK and they DID NOT HAVE ANY INFOMATION.""
How much would my insurance go up?
I'm looking at getting a coupe for my first car. Possibly a 2010 Camaro or Mustang. As of now my mom and I share her car, a Cadillac CTS. The insurance for myself is about $140 a month (I'm 16) so if I got a coupe, around how much of a jump would that make my insurance go up?""
""Where can I get cheap car insurance for a vw golf 1.4 51 reg? Im 17 and just passed, I'll b on parents policy?""
I will be on my parents policy, with a parent as the main driver and me as the named driver? Ive looked at tesco value and its coming up as 2500!!! i was hoping more along the lines of 1500""
Whats a good health insurance company for when the baby is born.?
Is there any inexpensive insurance companys. I am financialy not able to provide the best but I want to atleast have health insurance on the baby. I am looking at affordable. I live in North Louisiana.
Advice on a supermoto/motard as a first bike for a 17 year old in the UK please?
I know bikes are cheaper in terms of insurance than a car, as my FIAT X1/9 I was planning on getting as a first car, as my dad already owned it, is north of 2500 to insure alone. Basically, please can someone advise me on a supermoto for a first time rider with relatively low insurance that cost about 2000 to buy, 2500 maximum. I really like the supermoto style, and its fairly cheap for my friend, I have a 19 year old friend with a modified supermoto YZF250 and pays only 400 per year. I think he has been riding since he was 17. I am clued of on cars and fairly knowledgeable of engines, but I lack the knowledge of the names of different bike, so finding it tricky, I have decided to post this. Preferably I like the idea of a small (cheap 125cc), but a single cylinder 4 stroke purely because of the noise, but if it has to be two stroke, I don't mind greatly. As long as I can do a little over 60mph to keep up with traffic on the faster roads roads, but not the motorways, it will cost less than 2000, but maybe a little over, and will not be overly expensive for a 17 year old, that will be ideal. I don't care of anything to rapid, as long as it is fast enough for the roads unlike a little 30mph moped, I just want a fun, cheap, roadworthy supermoto.""
Car insurance for a non working vehicle?
My car needed a major repair last fall. I work from home and have been trying to pay off student loans so I decided to do without a car for 6 months since I live in a convenient location- I just received my tax return and can afford the major repair. I stopped my car insurance while I wasn't driving since it was $125/mo and I now need to start it back up. I am switching companies since I really didn't like mine- I just got to the questions about insurance lapse does this apply to me since my car wasn't working? I haven't returned my form yet. I hope I didn't screw this up, a friend just told me I should have possibly kept a storage coverage that my rates might skyrocket. It's an older car with no loan attached. I live in MN, perfect driving record, was with the same company for 25 years and had never missed a payment. If it is considered a lapse is there a way to get around it legally like giving/selling my car to my boyfriend and then listing me as a driver so I can use it when needed? We don't live together but he did most of the driving when we did use it- it's not worth much, maybe a few thousand dollars at most- maybe I'd be better off selling my car and getting a new (used) one so I don't have to explain a gap? Thanks.""
What is the Cheapest car insurance?
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https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/weekly-car-insurance-quote-gilbert-stokes/"
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