#Solo Campgrounds

[campizon]

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At Campizon, we facilitate the campgrounds with full services for complete and long-term enjoyment in the outdoors.

Whether you are coming solo or full-family, you’ll love the experience so forth!

[jay-catsby]

the phrase "not a happy camper" is useless to me because i would ALWAYS be happier camping than i am in any other situation. i love camping

[randadrives]

Solo Safety - Part 1

One of the most asked questions I, and many other solo travelers, receive is: “Aren’t you scared out there by yourself? Do you feel safe?” It can be difficult to explain to someone how I feel less safe in a crowded city, how my nervous system betrays me in a grocery store more than when I’m alone at a campsite in the middle of the desert, or in sight of other campers up a mountain. Honestly, there was absolutely a time I was afraid. There were times I didn’t feel so safe! That’s what happens when you live with anxiety. But I counter the thought with: I would not feel any less anxious if I was somewhere else or not alone. Sometimes fear just happens and cannot be prevented. But being prepared and having a plan can help! I’m going to cover some of the basics in solo safety in a series of posts now.

A first step that can be taken with traveling or doing outdoor activities solo is to practice with friends. Is there a spot you want to try camping or hiking by yourself? Invite someone to go with you first. I spent so many years hiking at McConnell’s Mill State Park with friends or my sisters, so when I wanted to try hiking solo, my first inclination was to go to a familiar trail I’ve been to before and do it alone. It was a popular trail, and I knew it well. It’s a better idea to try something you know first than to go to an unfamiliar place for your first time. I spent an entire summer wanting to hike trails at each of Allegheny County’s 9 parks. So, I had a friend join me for 2 or 3 of them. I became comfortable finding the trails, figuring out where to park, learning about downloading maps on my phone, and reading reviews online before arriving. I figured out what to take with us on different lengths of trails, and what times were best to go. Then I was able to start going to unfamiliar trails alone. I was still in a County park, still on well-hiked trails, and these things increased my confidence. The drives to them were short so if I psyched myself out, I could easily turn around. The same strategy can be done with camping. Find a campground or area you would enjoy trying that isn’t a far distance. Invite a friend or family member to try it out for a night or two. Figure out with a companion what you need to bring, watch some YouTube videos on the area, and test it out. If you like the location, go back alone! This is a great way to boost your confidence. If you invite several people and they all turn you down – find new friends. I don’t mean replace your friends; I mean find camping/hiking friends! I have had success meeting several people online with apps, Facebook groups, or even just inviting coworkers I didn’t really know that well. It can feel weird or awkward at first when it isn’t something you have done before, but it gets easier and feels more natural the more you try. I have made great friends just from wanting companionship.

Now that we have some practice (or maybe you skipped that step), my #1 safety recommendation is nonnegotiable: communication. It does not matter what I am doing, communication is vital. When I travel, when I hike or camp within those travels, when I’m meeting up with someone new, I always tell several trusted people where I am going, what time, when I get there, who I’m meeting (or if I’ll be alone), when to expect to hear from me again, if I will have service or not, and I may even send a little cute selfie right before my adventure so they can see what I’m wearing. It may sound like overkill or silly, but I like to know someone always knows where I am and what I’m doing – just in case. It has become such an automatic habit for me that I don’t even think about it that hard. If it is a hard habit to develop, a location sharing app is a great tool, but shouldn’t be the only tool because technology fails. A combination of communication tools is best and gives me peace of mind so I can enjoy my time, especially when I have no service (which really gives my brain the break it needs once in a while). Because it was in my budget, I also carry a satellite phone with me for emergencies. My Garmin InReach Mini 2 takes up almost no space and tracks my location that I can share with others. I pay $15 a month for the service, which allows me to send/receive up to 10 text messages with no additional charge. It has an SOS button to contact emergency response in case I get into a really bad situation that I need rescued, but bear in mind that those services will also cost a lot more than $15. I consider the price worth it in an emergency. Your service also can be shut off and turned back on at any time if you know you will not be adventuring and don’t want to pay for it. There are similar satellite phones on the market, but this is the one I have personal experience with. Another common, quick, easy, old-fashioned way to communicate is leaving a note on your car window or checking in at a Ranger station. Many experienced hikers will stop at a Ranger station near the trail they’re going to just to say hello, make their presence known, and ask about the trail conditions. I have done this and found myself lucky to avoid a trail I was committed to doing because the conditions were not right at that exact moment – maybe the trail was flooded from rain or something like that. Or others will park at a trail head and leave a note on their vehicle window: “started trail at (time).” Rangers do check these! Many trails also have logs you can sign to track visitors. I will put “Miranda + dog,” what time I start the trail, and how many miles I plan on hiking that day.

While still on the topic of communication, you may or may not be a social media aficionado. When it comes to safety and traveling solo, especially as a woman, a good rule to go by is not to post where you’re going or your location until after you already left it. Maybe I’m paranoid, but if I have 500 Facebook friends or 600 Instagram followers, do I trust every single one of those people to know where I am alone? No. And you should not, either. If I am camping in a wildlife refuge for a week, I may be excited to share photos and videos I take, but it can wait until I pack up and leave. I love to spread awareness and the beauty of certain places, but only after I’m gone. Only the few I trust with my location need to know I will be “hiking at Hunter’s Canyon tomorrow at 3pm by myself” where there isn’t any cell signal and maybe no other hikers. Keep yourself safe from predators, not just the mountain lion type.

While on that topic, let’s keep it going strong with how to stay safe from predators – the two-legged variety. I’m a fan of a good RBF and confident demeanor. If you have ever watched an interview with a serial killer before, they often talk about how they pick their victims based off demeanor. Am I saying you will run into a serial killer while camping or hiking? Unlikely, but I know it’s at the forefront of all our minds when out in the wilderness alone, so we may as well address it. Like I have alluded to before, I’m more intimidated by running into people at gas stations and grocery store parking lots than I am running into the lone person in the woods or mountains. Most people camping or hiking are looking for the same thing I am – solitude, the sounds of nature, etc. We are all just trying to survive out here! Let people know you see them, smile or wave, give a head nod, speak out with “Hi, how’s it going today?” as you walk by. Chin up, shoulders down and back, relax and fake it til you make it. Also, leave the headphones at home. There is no reason to be on a trail caught unaware by person or animal because you’re not paying attention. The same goes for constantly staring at your phone. Eyes up! Don’t look like a victim by not being aware of your surroundings or appearing afraid to talk to people. I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked “are you alone?” when on a trail or camping. Fortunately, I have only ever had that asked of me in campgrounds, not while dispersed camping/boondocking. It is the most irritating thing, and it is so difficult to not roll my eyes at whoever is asking, normally a couple or group of people. It’s never the other people who are also alone that ask, because they don’t give a shit. If you’re not comfortable answering “yes,” then don’t! Say whatever you want. “Nope, my husband/boyfriend is meeting me”; “No, just catching up to my friends”; “No”; “Weird question to ask”; “I’m never alone”; or whatever else comes to mind. I have used all of these and more depending on the scenario and how tired I am of being asked that on a given day. If I am staying at a campground, where it’s generally safe, public, and monitored, I will now say “yes” because I don’t think it should be some taboo thing to go somewhere alone. Sometimes people just want to genuinely ask because they have never done anything alone, and maybe they want to start and will ask how you got into doing that. I try to understand from that perspective, but it’s also not your obligation to make conversation with anyone if you don’t want to. However, I have been in a situation before where a drunk man has come to my window in the middle of the night in a campground to ask "are you alone here?" and that is never okay. If something like this happens to you, keep the campground after-hours emergency number handy, and don’t hesitate to call an employee to help. Don’t be afraid to loudly, firmly, and clearly set a boundary. No one should be bothering you just because you’re alone and might appear incapable.

I am in several Facebook groups dedicated to solo camping, solo women, hiking, etc. because I find some great ideas that are given in them. They’re great for making connections and gathering advice. But take everything you read there with a grain of salt. What might work for others possibly won’t work for you. Many women who travel solo will advise to set out an extra chair to make it look like you have company, or to set out a pair of large, worn men’s boots at your campsite. I don’t necessarily agree with this system. If you’re camping for several days at a time, people are going to notice you’re alone whether you put out decoys or not. I think these things take up unnecessary room and don’t do the job you might like them to. I personally don’t want anyone to think it bothers me that I am alone, or like I can’t take care of myself. However, I do think bringing a dog is a great deterrent, and good company anyway!

So far, the base line is: educate yourself and trust your gut. If something doesn't feel right, lean into that and be vigilant. If you know you're just overthinking things, do what you need to do to make yourself feel better. In Part 2, I will be covering what tools to carry, some wildlife safety, the weather, and vehicle maintenance, so be sure to check back to cover more basics of safety! Please feel free to comment tips and tricks you have used, as well as any questions you may want answered!

[rainbowsky]

Hello Rainbowsky,

I know, hiking CPN can be washed by saying WYB went to Inner Mongolia to see the shooting location for his upcoming movie and may be went on hiking when he had free time.

But, WYB who never posts more than 1 personal picture in an entire year, decided to post his hiking pictures even when the picture location matches with the shooting location of XZ and there were heavy rumours of him visiting XZ.

Also, he went to Japan and other places for seeing shooting location but he did not post pictures from there. People are also saying that if it was for movie he will not spoil the location before movie releases.

Rainbowsky, what do you think?

Hi Anon,

It's true that there are people trying to wash this whole Inner Mongolia thing. It just goes with the territory. In fact, the bigger and stronger the CPN, the harder people work to wash it.

However.

Fake, fan fiction, CPN.

It's not really washable. In part because there's not enough information available to independently verify or debunk anything, sure, but also for all the reasons everyone's been discussing lately.

The location

DD's filming locations are not known at this point. Somehow (and I can't possibly express how thoroughly impressed I am by this) the film set has been so totally locked down that nothing has leaked from it, to the degree that no one even knows for sure that the project is currently filming, or where. So people claiming he was there for filming... that's speculation.

The film synopsis solos are relying on to wash this CPN talks about the character we'd presume to be DD's (it's the only young man mentioned) being from "the heart of" the Great Khinogan Mountains.

The Wulanhada volcano park that DD was photographed by is not anywhere near that area.

We don't know exactly where GG is filming so we can't get too carried away about it, but it's pretty disingenuous for people to claim DD was there for filming when it's not anywhere near where his character is supposed to be from, and the terrain around the volcano park is totally different from the terrain where DD's character is from (would probably not make a good stand-in location for that region).

Wulanhada volcano park, left - Great Khinogan Mountains, right

Of course it's not impossible that he was there for filming, but given what little we know (the same information solos are trying to use to wash this), it seems unlikely.

It's also possible he went there directly from Beijing, but that's a 5 hour drive at minimum, so wouldn't likely have been a day trip. And DD isn't going to post a photo of himself at GG's filming location, he's going to post one that says what he wants to say while still maintaining plausible deniability. This volcano park is perfectly situated to provide all of that.

Aside from that - as turtles have already pointed out - why would DD share photos from the area where he's filming, when this film has been so very locked down until now? It doesn't make any sense at all. Keeping locations secret is what's been protecting this film from leaks and stalkers.

The content

It's pretty interesting that we've seen enormously popular photos from GG (his birthday post has over 33.7 million likes, while the Xiao Zhan Studio birthday photos post is at 4 million likes), featuring him hiking in the wilds and hanging out in campground areas, and then we get something similar from DD who, as you said, rarely shares personal photos anymore.

They both seem to be very outdoorsy lately!

For two people who - according to solos - are 'trying desperately to get out from under the tyranny of this delusional CP', they sure are making some big mistakes about how to appear to be very different people living very different lives...

His and his B&W Leicas

His and his credit card iPhone cases

His and his Gucci lion head necklaces

Yeah, they're really putting in every effort to shake this 'reputation destroying', 'horribly toxic' ship! 🙄

More on that here.

The timing

This is the biggest thing, and in my opinion what we should be focusing on the most. Because as far as I'm concerned, this post is a statement - a very loud and clear one.

DD is being (yet again) attacked with these horrible, laughably false (like, seriously - the photos are clearly of a woman who is much shorter and smaller than DD) rumors about him attending a concert with a particular actress, and suddenly the supertopic for that 'CP' is shut down and we get photos from DD that point to a totally different CP. One that he's supposedly trying to 'shake off'.

Then we see him partying it up openly, publicly, at a concert for his dear friend Da Zhangwei. Not even wearing a mask, so everyone is free to fully identify and photograph him.

It seems to me that DD is sending a pretty clear message:

I'm not dating an actress, I'm with GG

I don't need to disguise myself as a woman to go see a concert

And this is exactly what happened last time these kinds of inflammatory rumors were circulating about him with that same actress. People were claiming that the actress was wearing the same bone necklace as him (with a blurry photo where the necklace couldn't even be seen), so GG released footage wearing a Gucci lion head necklace that DD had previously worn for a race.

GG and DD don't fuck around.

So while I'll tag this with my regular "the mysteries of yizhan" tag that I use for all candy/CPN, there really is no mystery here at all. DD is fed up with this bullshit and won't stand for it.

In fact I was just saying to a friend the other day that the biggest mystery I have about GGDD these days is, how do solos manage to remain solos? They have access to the same information we do. 😅

[c-l-y-d-e]

I've been planning out my summer camping trips. So far I've got:

three day solo hike (a breezy ~25km, well-travelled route, early in the season so Maximum Bugs, but far enough north that ticks are rare)

weekend camping with a friend ft. easy day hike (~10km)

weekend camping on my own ft. moderate day hike (~17km)

Beyond that, I'd only get in another two multi-day trips and I'm struggling with the options

Take some vacation days and do a 140km trek? (it's remote and largely unmaintained and takes about 8-10 days because it's That Hard but is high on the list of trips I want to do)

3-day solo canoe trip? (this would be super chill, since I would stick to small lakes and short portages, but its an area I know very well and love a lot)

A popular hiking route? (~40km over 2-3 days. I've looked at doing it many times, but the sites are already fully booked on weekends, so I'd have to use vacation time and go during the week.)

Snag a nice car camping spot somewhere and hang out for a long weekend??? (the chilling is appealing, but I am less enthusiastic about busy campgrounds. I'd probably pick a place that is a 6+ hour drive away to go sit in the middle of fucking nowhere. and do I really want to do all that driving for no particular purpose?? ....sometimes yes.)

Snag a nice car camping spot *nearby* and invite friends and family to come hangout with me (ft. campfires and bbq and frolicking in the water and cute nature trails) (I can think of at least 8 people would take me up on the offer, if it's <90 minutes away and nice weather)

There will be plenty of day hikes with friends, and at least one weekend of borderline-urban car camping with my partner, but I'm feeling so incredibly indecisive about what I want to do for myself.

(Whatever I end up doing is at least 5 months away, but this is literally all I think about in the lead-up to summer)

[prototypesteve]

Solo Vacations.

Everyone should indulge in at least one solo vacation every year. (Not just aromantic or asexual people, even though they should give it a go, too.) Doesn't have to be fancy. It can be a last-minute package trip to a resort, a road trip to a favourite city, or even a weekend at a nearby campground. Just go somewhere alone.

There are stacks of books and blog posts on how to travel solo safely, economically, etc, so I'll assume you'll do it smartly. I’ll focus on why, rather than how.

Go somewhere where it doesn't matter what other people think about ���that person at a table for one,” or “that person on the ferry by themself,” or “that person who's alone but clearly not on a business trip,” because you'll never see any of these people again.

Reconnect with yourself, your rhythms, your curiosities, your impulses, your appetites and your schedule, and do everything you can to keep yourself away from your work, your social circles, your phone, your everyday apps, and anything that might suck you back into old automatic ways of thinking about yourself, your story, your future etc. Just be you, where you are. Turn tomorrow off. Turn “what if” off. Turn “what about” off. Just go be you.

You'll be surprised how time, space, and quiet brings you the answers to all those questions you have about yourself.

[thiswasinevitableid]

What Lies Beneath (Indruck)

The runner up of the "things that happen when you're alone" poll was: "I’m caving and I just heard a noise I didn’t expect to"

Just when Duck thought the Monogahela couldn’t get any cooler, it finds a way to prove him wrong. 

He’d have liked it better if the reveal of a closed off, unknown cave system by a mudslide hadn’t involved shutting down two campgrounds during peak tourist season, but if the caves are in any way navigable, they’ll make up for that in a big way next year. 

Since he picked up caving experience while working in Brazil, Duck’s taking point on mapping this one out. It’s not Mammoth or Carlsbad sized, but it’s still deep and winding enough that they usually work in teams of two or more. But today he’s going solo, focusing on making sure the rooms they’ve already found are adequately described and that no one missed any bottomless pits or sudden drops. 

As peers into a gap, a trilling, chittering sound echoes in the darkness to his left. Doesn’t sound right for bats, or any other mammal. A bird maybe? Or a big-ass cricket?

He carefully crosses the damp ground, ears on alert as he scans his light across the wall. Aubrey asked him if he ever got freaked out down here. The basic answer is no: he doesn’t believe in cave monsters or other creepy shit like that. His bigger concern is that there’s a human down here doing something they’re not supposed to and that they don’t want him to find. 

There’s no movement, and only a faint rustle of feathers makes him turn his light to the far corner, where a tall, narrow gap leads to another room of the cave. 

The beam hits two, red orbs, about seven feet off the ground. The orbs blink and the chittering noise returns. 

“Nope.” He backs out of the room as safely and quickly as he can, and as soon as he’s close enough to the surface he radios Juno to let her know he’s calling it a day.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next two times he works in the cave, it’s completely normal. But the fourth time, another day when Dan isn’t able to come with him, he’s crouching in a tunnel between rooms when he hears someone muttering. 

“...hello, nice to meet you, I have been…no, nono that will not do either…hello, I know I am alarming but please do not run away Duck Newton…no, no that will upset him more…”

He doesn’t want to know how the voice in the cave knows his name or why it wants to talk to him. That level of weird is beyond his pay grade.

Duck turns to sneak back the way he came. The grey rock beneath his boots has either ideas, and he falls with a surprised curse.

“Oh! Oh dear me, here, let me help-”

“Nope!” Duck holds out a hand and the red eyes stop coming closer, “nope, I’m good, you stay right there.” 

His other hand finds his dropped light, and between that and his head-lamp, he brings the voice in the darkness into view. It’s covered in dark feathers everywhere but it’s chitinous arms–four, by his count–with fluffy antennae that droop in the cold air. 

It also looks more terrified than he feels. 

“Hello” one hand waves weakly and many teeth show in a smile.

“Hey there, uh, mothman?” He slowly gets to his feet. 

The smile fades, “I am still known, then? I was so hoping people had forgotten.”

“Uh” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “you got real popular last few years. And you been the main tourist draw for Point Pleasant for longer than that.”

At the mention of the town the mothman shrinks in on himself. He looks so upset, so lost, that Duck’s feet stop trying to turn him towards the exit.

“Have you just been living down here?”

“In a manner of speaking. I…I came down to clear my head and to hide my shame after my most publicized failure and I, I didn’t see that the cold and the dark would send my body into a form of torpor. Can you tell me how long I have been asleep?”

Duck does the math, “Uhh…not that, uh, not all that, uh, fuck.”

The mothman cocks his head. 

“56 years.”

“WHAT?” His trill bounces off the rocks, “all that time and no one found me?”

“Guessin’ the cave got covered by something soon after. Or it was so damn hidden no one but you ever found it.” Cautiously, he adds, “you got anyone who needs to know you’re awake.”

“No.” The mothman says softly.

A growl makes Duck flinch, but the cryptid simply says, “It seems I am hungry. And no, I do not eat people. As you were about to ask.” He sighs, “I don’t suppose you could show me the way out. I…I suppose there’s no point in hiding from the world any longer, even if it has undoubtedly changed a great deal since I last stretched my wings in the sun.”

“Yeah. Here, follow me. Keep a hold of this rope, it’ll help you stay where it’s safe.”

The cryptid follows him into the entrance chamber, movements stiff and unsure, and Duck expects any small breeze to knock him backwards. In the late afternoon light filtering down, he can see the black in his wings is dull and dusty.

Duck should let the mothman fly off, should treat this as one of those strange things that can happen when you’re alone in the woods, and never speak of it again. 

The mothman’s arms are wrapped tight around his feathery chest as he stares at the blue sky like it’s going to fall on him. 

“Look, mister, uh, mothman-”

“Indrid. My name is Indrid.”

“Right, Indrid. If you wanna sit tight here, I’m almost done with my shift. I can bring my car up when I’m done and you can come crash at my place.”

A dark head swivels to gawk at him, “There was only one future where you offered that.”

“Well, now it’s a present where I’m offering. You don’t got to if you don’t want. Just figured you might want a roof over your head while you figure things out.”

“I would. Thank you, Duck Newton.” He sits down on a boulder in the sun, “I will wait for you here.”

—-------------------------------------------

The world is so much louder these days. Even a place like Kepler, where the NRQZ keeps some sources of noise at bay. And that’s before Indrid gets to the fact that there are so many people on Earth, so many futures all spinning and colliding in his mind. 

He’s still shocked that one of them is letting him sleep in their guest room. 

Duck Newton’s apartment is warm and welcoming, decorated in earthy tones with photos of loved ones and loved places on the walls. There is also a large, fluffy, orange cat named Henny, who has decided Indrid is her new bed. Which is why he hasn’t gotten up from the couch since Duck left to run an errand. 

The doornob clicks and the ranger returns, Henny hopping from Indrid’s lap to yowl hungrily at him. Indrid is close to doing the same as the human sets the bags on the table.

“Did my best to get the stuff you said you liked. Got a couple extra things just in case.” Duck smiles a little awkwardly, then yelps, “ow, yeah fuzzball I got more food for you too, quit using me as a scratchin’ post.”

After eating an entire brick of cheese, four cartons of strawberries, two boxes of Lucky Charms, and downing a two-liter bottle of Pineapple Fanta (and the large glass of water Duck keeps refilling for him), Indrid feels more like himself. 

“You good?” Duck asks from over his bowl of reheated chili.

“Yes, thank you. And since you are about to inquire, the reason I am not eating more is I think I will make myself sick if I stuff myself too full too soon.”

“Don’t want that. You mind if I eat some of those frozen waffles?”

“They sell waffles in packages now?!”

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Duck spins the sunglasses rack at the thrift store a final time. Indrid had asked him to pick up pairs in a few, “hip” styles as part of a project he’s undertaking tonight. 

He’d been at Duck’s place a week before Duck had asked if he needed to go flying or otherwise get out and about. Luckily Indrid had taken it as the worry about boredom that it was, not as an indicator that Duck wanted him to get out. 

“I would, eventually. Go out I mean. Goodness knows if I’ll ever fly again; I can tell my wings have atrophied.” He opens them and Duck’s breath leaves in a hurry; there’s a stripe of blood red on the black, dramatic and beautiful beyond belief, even in its dulled state. 

“I’m sorry, that sucks. Maybe you can do some kind of physical therapy on ‘em?”

“It is worth a try.” Indrid closes his wings, rousting his feathers up once and then ruffling them down. It makes Duck laugh every time, and he swears Indrid does it more ever since he confessed that. 

“What’d you like to do? Before you went underground.”

“Hmmm” Indrid drums his claws on the kitchen counter, “I loved going to the drive-in. Taking my supplies and sketching or painting in the park. Nestling somewhere warm and reading a good book. I rather enjoyed roller-skating, sunning myself on the beach, mmm, there was one in Florida where you could have a pineapple malt while you lay in the sand, do they still have soda fountains? My research has not yet gotten to that question” he gestures to Duck’s laptop, on which he’s been reading up on everything possible.

Duck nods, “Yeah, they do. Don’t really call ‘em that anymore but it’s basically the same thing. There’s a place one town over that makes killer milkshakes.”

“Ooh, we should go there! Your home has been about all the stimuli I can handle but I may be ready to venture forth.” He taps his claws together, looking down, “of course, I can go alone. I, I do not want to presume you would come with me.”

“Be happy too. Seems to me the bigger question is how you’re gonna go without causing a scene.” Duck tilts his head at Indrid’s wings. 

A pleased grin, “I have many tricks up my sleeve, Duck Newton. But I will require your assistance…”

“What an excellent selection, thank you.” Indrid studies the glasses on the table, then pulls a pair or round, red-tinted ones towards himself, “this should only take a moment.”

Orange light flickers in his hands. Duck watches out of curiosity (and to keep Henny from chasing the light as Indrid moves his fingers around and across the frames). 

“Let’s hope this still works.” Indrid takes a deep breath and sets the glasses on his face. Suddenly there’s no cryptid in sight, just a tall, willowy man with silvery hair and a wide smile. 

“Ha! It seems my magic is still on point, as the kids say.”

Duck chuckles, but his heart’s not in it, too busy skipping beats at the way the angles of Indrids face look in the light and the fact he’s given himself multiple ear piercings and arms full of tattoos. Or, god help him, the fact he’s shirtless. 

Indrid notices him staring and glances at the ink swirling over his skin, “Do you like them? My old version did not have any that were visible, but I understand times have changed.”

Duck’s eyes drop down and he blushes, “Uh, they ain’t, uh, ain’t changed enough for you to go out without pants.”

“Oh goodness!” Indrid tosses a napkin into his lap, “apologies, clothing always did give me trouble. May I borrow some sweatpants? And the Zion National Park t-shirt? It looks very soft.”

“Go for it.” Duck covers his eyes as Indrid stands. When his willpower breaks the gaps between his fingers he discovers that yep, he loves watching Indrid go.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You sure you’re ready for this? That surround sound is no joke.” 

“Positive” Indrid holds up his earplugs as they move up a spot in line outside the movie theater, “I have come prepared. But, ah, if I do start feeling overwhelmed would it be alright to touch your hand? Having something to run my fingers over helps with that feeling.”

“Sure.” Duck wonders if this is a convoluted way to ask to hold his hand, and if Indrid would like it if he just went for it once they sat down. 

“Oooh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “they finally made a Spiderman movie! Let’s see that one. I can pay since you…oh dear, right, I don’t have money.” Indrid’s hand slips sheepishly out of his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, ‘Drid, I got this.”

Indrid bumps their shoulders together, “I promise I will pay you back.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

In the month and a half they’ve known each other, Indrid has never been out this late. Duck is starting to worry when the front door swings open and his roommate strides in with an even wider grin than normal. He’s sporting tight black jeans and the worn, black leather jacket he found at a thrift store, and all that combines to make Duck forget what he was worrying about. 

“Voila!” Indrid sets a stack of bills on the table, and a quick eyeball suggests it’s at least $500.

“Holy fuck ‘Drid, where did this come from?”

“Foresight makes one formidable at the Wolf Lodge Casino and Grille. Also I hustled some people at pool in the bars on the way home, just for old times sake.”

“For what?”

The smile turns sly, “I hide quite a life before my hibernation, Duck. Plus, pool halls are excellent places to meet attractive men .” He winks, slipping off his jacket, “anyway, that should cover what I owe you for now. And yes, I promise I will find honest work eventually. Now, how about we go out for dinner. My treat?”

Duck is already reaching for his coat as he says, “Hell yeah.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

“I changed my mind, I am not buying Halloween decorations, I am spending all my money on these.”

Duck laughs as Indrid stands in the Walgreens seasonal aisle with an armful of Squishmallows.

“Y’know, they make ones shaped like you. Think they’re online though, not here.”

“Very well. I shall put these back until I see all my options. Except this one.” He sets the plush bat in the basket with pumpkin lights Duck picked out, “let me just fetch more soap and then that’s everything on the shopping list…”

—-----------------------------

“How’s that?” 

“Good.” The chirp in Indrid’s voice suggests the way Duck is holding his left wing is not, in fact, good.

“If it hurts too bad we should stop, doing these exercises ain’t any good if they just injure you instead of helping your muscles build up.” Duck looks down at the reference sheet he printed from work a few weeks back; it’s on how to rehab injured bird wings, but he figured it was as close as they were going to get to matching what Indrid might need.

“I am fine.” Indrid snaps, “And even if I am not, it is what I deserve for failing to care for them and failing to ever use them properly.”

“What?” Duck releases the wing and the mothman tucks it back into place.

“Even at the peak of my health these useless things could seldom get me where I needed to be in time. They were never enough. None of it was ever enough.”

Duck picks up the comb the cryptid uses on his feathers, stands behind the chair and slowing begins moving it over his wings, “That don’t seem fair. Callin’ these stunning things worthless and whatnot. Not any fairer than callin’ yourself a failure.”

“You were not there. You did not see the, the evidence” his voice cracks on that word, “firsthand.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. But you’ve told me plenty about what you did, what you tried to do too. I see the moments when think about trying to help again–your face goes blank and then you get tense for a long-ass time while you try to decide–and I know for damn sure there are people still alive now because you helped them way back when. You can think whatever you want about yourself, ‘Drid. But I won’t sit here and let someone insult my friend.”

Indrid chirrs, surprised, “We are friends?”

Duck runs the comb through the patch between his antenna, which haven’t drooped in weeks, “Yeah, fluffball, we are.”

—-------------------------------------------------------

Things can go to hell in a half-second when you’re out in the wild. 

One second, Duck and Dan are talking about their plans for Halloween as they rappel deeper into the cave. Then all there’s a rumble and the ground beneath the rock they’d anchored too is gone, dropping into the darkness and taking them with it.

Duck claws at air as he falls, knowing the hard stone is waiting for him no matter how he flails or yells. 

There’s a rush of air and then he’s falling up, his headlamp reflecting off magpie black feathers.

“I have you, I have you.” Indrid sets him on safe ground, “wait here, I have to get your friend.”

A whoosh in the darkness and he’s gone. Duck listens to his wingbeats soften and then return. Dan is in bad shape when Indrid sets him on the ground, unconscious and bleeding from his forehead, arms, and right knee. 

“I radioed into the station to tell them there was an accident.” Indrid kneels beside them as Duck does his best to stem the bleeding, “I, he, he will live because of that but if I’d been faster you’d never have fallen in the first place and-”

Duck throws his arms around him, “Don’t you dare fuckin apologize.”

“But-”

“Indrid I swear if I catch you apologizing for saving my life and my buddies life, I will hide that case of cream soda where you’ll never find it, so help me god.”

A high, chittering laugh, “Alright, you win.”

Duck presses his face into the feathers of Indrid’s chest, “You flew.”

“Yes and I am already feeling the consequences. But I…if I hadn't you both would have died down there. I have failed at many things, but to fail at saving you…I could not stand the thought. I would get to you or fall from the sky trying.”

Duck lunges up, kissing him so hard the cryptids head bonks into the wall behind him. Four slide up his back, two tangling in his hair, as black wings wrap around him. 

“I, I do not want this to stop, but we need to get you both above ground.”

“Fine, but we ain’t finished. When we’re home I’m gonna rub your wings and then kiss you silly.” He kisses Indrid’s cheek and stands, letting his cryptid carry Dan up to the surface and following behind. 

As they wait, the sound of a speeding ranger vehicle in the distance, Indrid drapes his wing over Duck’s shoulder and lets the human rest against him, promising to be out of sight when the others arrive. Duck runs his fingers over the feathers and smiles when he sees just how brightly his colors are shining in the sun.

[gearsandbranches]

Why am I here? It´s storytime

Today I want to write about something different. About something personal. About the reason this blog exists and why I´ve created it in the first place. About nature and love and anger and hope.

In 2020, the profile picture of this blog was taken:

It was taken on a solo hike through Sweden, a hike that didn´t go as planned from the beginning, but couldn´t possibly have been more impactful and fantastic and marvellous than it was.

I wanted to follow the Southern Kungsleden, a hiking path from the southernmost mountain ranges in Sweden northwards. I had planned this meticulously, every single day, every grocery store availiable (there were three spread out over the 18 day hike), every ecological zone I would be in, every possible spot to spend the night. And I got stopped in my tracks on day two, because I landed in the middle of snowmelt and bad weather and it just wasn´t doable, even less so alone. I had to reconsider, get out of there, back to safety, and plan again. And when I set out on the second part of that adventure, after a few chaotic days, my planning consisted only of a biking map in a way too big scale to be of any use, the actual map, diverted into 10 pdf´s on my phone, and a vague scrolling through a few travelling blogs.

The second hike was the Siljansleden, a hiking path around one of the biggest lakes in Sweden (but when they say "around", it means, 30 kilometers away from it and then back in a biiig sweep). It was me, alone, in deep forest, populated by moose, wolves, bears, wolverines, lynxes, and many other things that hikers are afraid of. But you still have to sleep somehow, so you have to find your peace with that. And I did it by seeing myself as just one more creature of that forest going about my business. Trying not to bother anyone. Trying not to get into anyones way. Just one of the many beings roaming the vast forests, not to disturb and not to be disturbed. I slept in a tent in the middle of the forest, and in the depth of night, when nothing was to be heard but the whistle of the wind in the trees, when the bright midsummer night spread a soft, shadowless light around, I felt safe, calm and deeply at peace.

And so I went on, for 2 weeks, alone with the forest except for 2 stops in small towns where I stocked up on food and rest. Just me and the forest and the occasional chat with a friendly stranger. I encountered animals of different kinds (including a lynx, that was magical, but to be alone with a cat whose head is almost as big as yours at 2,5 meters distance in the middle of the night is, let´s say, INTENSE). I had good and bad and fantastic days, and while I wouldn´t necessarily say that hiking alone in the wilderness is an easy life, it is a simple one: stay warm, stay fed, stay hydrated, stay dry, and keep putting one foot in front of the other. During those two weeks, I turned from a stranger and a visitor in the forest to someone who was at home there. Coming back to civilization afterwards was shocking and jarring, as dramatic as that sounds. I had to walk along a road to the campground in the town of my destination, it was 1,5 kilometres and it almost drove me to tears. The asphalt was too hard and too hot, the sun getting reflected off of it weirdly, the road wasn´t even super busy, but the cars where so loud and it was just TOO MUCH! Was that really meant for us humans to live in? Why? It took a long time to get used to it again, and I never did the way I was before. I also never step into a forest in the same way I did before. Even though I don´t think I could immediately sleep as calmy out in the forest as I did then, the feeling of being at home there still echoes. I know it´s possible. I know what it feels like, to just be one more creature of the forest, to be embraced by it. I know if I went back for a few days, I would feel the same simplicity and joy and peace again. Now, imagine what it feels like when that forest is cut down.

There was a strip of forest that was a former nature reservation close to where I live. Ten acres of it got cut down last year to built a bigger road with three roundabouts. I´ve known this patch of forest. I biked on a trail in it back from work. I´ve explored it with skis and by foot and collected mushrooms there. It was beautiful and it was erased for a stupid road project that won´t solve any of the problems it´s being built for, because bigger roads have seldomly led to less traffic, quite the opposite. We protested, we talked with the city government, we screamed and begged, but it still happened. Our local community then met up after the forest was cleared, to celebrate our activism if nothing else, to mourn together and to find comfort in community. I went there and I saw the destruction and I was FURIOUS! I´m normally a positive, peaceful person, but that made me just BURN with anger. I wanted to DO something, SCREAM at someone, throw a molotov cocktail into the office of the municipality and watch it burn, just as they had watched that forest fall without feeling anything. Quite possibly without knowing what they had destroyed, because they had never been in or with the forest in the same way. I was so incredibly angry and I wanted SOMEONE who was responsible for this to hurt as much as I did. And then I started to collect cones. Because more destruction wouldn´t lead anywhere and because I wouldn´t change anything by being sued for vandalism. It wouldn´t make anything better. But I collected cones and dried them and put the seeds in one of the planting pots on my balcony. And now I wait and hope that they´ll grow in the spring and that I will find a safe place for them to grow big. The trees that were growing in that spot are gone, but maybe their offspring will have a chance.

I still struggle with that anger. It makes me hateful and cruel and I think about spitting that hatred into the faces of every person responsible for environmental destruction. But I start to understand that this anger is not leading anywhere good. My mom once told me a proverb that says "holding a grudge is like poisoning yourself and hoping the other person dies". Being angry won´t lead anywhere and throwing that anger at the immovable wall that is world politics is only going to leave me drained and depressed. So I try to put my energy somewhere else. Planting trees. Working together with the local activist group. Finishing my studies and working for a better future. I still get angry. But I will try to channel it in a different way. Like writing a blog post about it and trying to update more often to spread the knowledge I gained at university and elsewhere.

Thank you for reading this far and I hope you have a wonderful day!

(PS: if by any chance (which is close to 0) that story about the hike sounded familiar, I do have a side blog where I wrote about it before, named @theopeneye)

[nmnomad]

24-Hours in the Enchanted Forest is coming up at the end of July in the Zuni Mountains, east of #Gallup. 24-Hour biking event/competition. Solo or team riding. Family friendly event. McGaffey Campground becomes a temporary mountain biking village in the woods.

[galraluver]

This fic is the fourth part of this request. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope you all love it 💕

{ (F/c/b) = Favorite camping breakfast}

_________________________________________

The first chance she got to have a little vacation (Y/n) made a reservation at her favorite campground so she could go on a solo camping trip for the weekend. (Y/n) loved going camping whenever she could, unfortunately her job kept her busy most of the time which didn't give her the chance to actually go camping very often. She was lucky enough to live a few hours away from her favorite campground, so the drive to her destination wouldn't take too long. On the day before her camping trip (Y/n) made sure to put the supplies she needed in her living room so that taking everything out to her car/pickup would be easier, her supplies including a bag of clothes and other basic supplies she would need. The day started nice and sunny, otherwise the perfect day to begin her camping trip, although on the way to the campground the sky became increasingly cloudy; (Y/n) was thankful that she packed the protective cover for her tent in case it rained, it was better to be prepared for anything.

(Y/n) could barely wait to get checked in and set up at her tent and foldable chair so she could sit in front of a nice campfire and eat the dinner she brought with her, as well as make some s'mores. During the trip to the park she would be camping at (Y/n's) mind wandered to Trigel, her favorite character from Voltron Legendary Defender; from the first moment she first saw the original green paladin she was entranced and the young woman wished that Trigel had gotten more screen time. (Y/n) was single, painfully so, but if she could have a significant other then she would want someone like Trigel; it seemed like almost all of her friends were either dating someone or getting married, leaving her as the painfully single friend who could never manage to attract a romantic partner. She didn't need a boyfriend or girlfriend to be happy, she was capable of being happy on her own, but she still got lonely and wanted to have someone who loved her specifically. By the time (Y/n) arrived at the park, found her camping spot and got everything set up there was still enough time for her to go on a short hike; the camping spots were spaced out with plenty of foliage surrounding them, she would have more than enough privacy.

With the sky still looking cloudy (Y/n) wouldn't go too far in case it started raining because her jacket wasn't water proof, thankfully her tent would be because she brought the cover for it. She knew that she probably shouldn't walk towards where the clouds were gathering in a circle in the sky, especially since the wind speed seemed to be picking up, but she was in the mood for an adventure and nothing short of a natural disaster was going to stop her. The wind speed became higher the longer she walked while the clouds formed a purplish color in the middle, a truly strange sight that had (Y/n) entranced by its unique beauty; she wondered if the circle of clouds was some kind of wonder of nature, although she'd never heard of such a thing happening before. Lightning streaked across the sky and thunder boomed loudly in the clouds, (Y/n) had to carefully walk over to a large boulder next to the trail where she could press herself against it for safety, covering her ears to protect her hearing and closing her eyes because the strange storm was kind of frightening. The wind whipped her hair around and nearly caused her to fall a couple of times, whatever kind of storm that came out of nowhere was definitely very unnatural.

(Y/n) failed to notice that a person fell from the portal and landed on the ground about twenty feet away, that person being the one and only original green paladin. Trigel had been fighting against Zarkon and Haggar when she was sent through a portal to another reality, falling unconscious as soon as she hit the ground; her helmet and armor protected her from dying, unfortunately they had been cracked from the force of the impact. The wind kept blowing for a while longer, although the thunder and lightning quieted down which meant (Y/n) could uncover her ears and open her eyes. It was beginning to get dark by the time the wind settled down and she would have gone back to her campsite, but then she spotted someone laying flat on the ground. (Y/n) didn't remember seeing anyone else hiking while she was out and seeing someone just randomly laying on the ground was highly unusual; she couldn't just leave someone in need, so her first instinct was to go see if she was alright.

Usually approaching an unconscious stranger would be nerve-wracking, although (Y/n) couldn't help but feel curious when she saw the mysterious person was wearing the same armor as Trigel. It shouldn't have been possible because characters from any tv show weren't real, it couldn't have been possible, and yet after carefully removing the green paladin helmet (Y/n) was given the surprise of a lifetime; Trigel was laying on the ground, right in front of her, and for a moment she thought that she might have been going crazy or something. (Y/n) knelt down and reached forward, placing two fingers in the center of the base of Trigel's neck in hopes of finding a pulse. She smiled when she found a pulse, Trigel was still alive and she was going to save her before someone with bad intentions found the original green paladin. (Y/n) came to the conclusion that the mysterious storm had something to do with Trigel's sudden appearance in the real world, she just hoped that Trigel wouldn't wake up until she had her in the safety of her tent.

"I know that you don't know what's going on because you're unconscious, but I'm going to take you somewhere safe." (Y/n) said while gazing at Trigel's face, still hardly able to believe her favorite paladin was really there.

Trigel didn't crack her eyes open or respond when (Y/n) spoke to her, the dalterion queen was completely unaware about what was going on and she needed help. (Y/n) stood up and walked towards where Trigel's head was, getting her back to her campsite wouldn't be easy but she had to do it, otherwise the government would take Trigel away and dissect her. She bent down and hooked her arms under Trigel's armpits, lifting with her legs before slowly walking backwards towards the campground. (Y/n) had enough self control so that she wouldn't fangirl when Trigel eventually woke up, although explaining where she was would be something completely different and she hoped Trigel didn't lose her memory when she fell. She could easily keep Trigel hidden thanks to there being plenty of shrubbery around and there weren't too many people nearby, all (Y/n) had to do was get her into her tent and make dinner.

___________

All throughout dinner Trigel didn't wake up and (Y/n) had to check her pulse again just to make sure that she was still alive; she was, of course, but she was still unconscious. (Y/n) took the extra blanket and pillow she kept in her car/pickup and brought them to her tent after she laid Trigel in it, that way Trigel wouldn't be completely uncomfortable. By early morning Trigel finally regained consciousness; at first her vision was blurry, although when she saw that she was in a tent she felt confused, even more so when she noticed (Y/n) laying on a cot. She naturally didn't know who (Y/n) was nor could she properly see her since she woke up before the sun was up all the way, so all she could do was wait for (Y/n) to wake up. The last thing Trigel remembered was her final battle against Zarkon and Haggar, the next thing she knew she'd been pushed through a portal made by Haggar.

Trigel could hear the sound of birds singing their morning songs outside, although none of them sounded familiar to her which meant she had been sent to another reality. She spent the next hour or so listening to the birds and wondering where she'd been sent to; her armor was cracked and so was her helmet, but it was to be expected after the battle she had previously been a part of. A few hours later (Y/n) woke up and saw that Trigel had woken up; they just stared at each other for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say to each other. (Y/n) was excited that Trigel woke up and Trigel felt even more confused about where she was and how she ended up in a tent with another woman. Honestly, (Y/n) wasn't sure what to say when Trigel eventually woke up, so she remained quiet despite wanting to break the silence.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Trigel eventually asked (Y/n) with curiosity, no longer able to handle the awkward silence.

"You're in my tent, I brought you here yesterday evening when I found you laying on a hiking trail. My name is (Y/n)." (Y/n) replied calmly, feeling kind of shy all of a sudden when their eyes met and she introduced herself.

"Thank you for saving me. My name is Trigel." Trigel responded gratefully, introducing herself as well so that she wouldn't seem rude.

"I'm glad that I could help you. Would you like to join me for breakfast?" (Y/n) inquired curiously, feeling hungry for the food she brought for breakfast; not only did she get to meet her favorite paladin but she had the opportunity to eat something with her, too.

"That sounds wonderful, thank you." Trigel answered kindly, she couldn't remember when the last time she ate was and the offering of food sounded wonderful.

(Y/n) grabbed her keys and got up so she could put her shoes on, opening her tent and leading Trigel out into the morning air. She breathed in deeply, feeling refreshed after having a good night's sleep; camping always left her refreshed, that's why she liked it so much. Trigel rezipped the tent once she and (Y/n) were outside, admiring her new surroundings while she helped (Y/n) get the food and the skillet out of the human woman's vehicle, it wasn't long before they were able to cook breakfast over an open fire. (Y/n) never expected that she would make breakfast with Trigel; heck, she didn't even expect to actually find Trigel laying on the ground after she apparently fell out of a mysterious portal, but it was truly a dream come true for her. By the time they were eating breakfast at the picnic table near (Y/n's) tent the birds were singing and chirping happily, as though they were greeting a brand new day.

"This tastes amazing, what do you call it again?" Trigel thanked (Y/n) after she took the first bite of the food, surprised by how delicious it tasted.

"(F/c/b), and I'm glad that you like it." (Y/n) replied gratefully, happy that Trigel, a paladin of Voltron, liked the breakfast food she brought.

Breakfast was only the first thing they were going to do that day, (Y/n) was thankful that she'd decided to sleep in her clothes during the previous night. Since there was no way for Trigel to return to her previous reality (Y/n) was going to let her live with her, it was the least she could do for the former green paladin. Trigel graciously accepted (Y/n's) kind offer, feeling a sense of admiration for the woman who saved her; there was a lot they talked about during breakfast, mostly about what their homes were like and about the battle against Zarkon. It was only natural for Trigel to be mind-blown about being an animated character in (Y/n's) reality, (Y/n) promised her that she could watch Voltron Legendary Defender when they went to (Y/n's) home, it wasn't like anything bad could happen if Trigel watched it. Until then, Trigel and (Y/n) were perfectly happy getting to know each other a little better; (Y/n) would help Trigel adjust to life in her reality as much as she could, it would just take a while.

[solreznik]

Council Meeting 7/25/42

Transcript of the meeting where Sol filled in council on 1) campground community he made contact with, 2) group of savages he took out, and 3) increased rumors and talk about mutant zombies. Council approved Sol traveling again, this time heading west, with Ginny accompanying.

@ermanodelgcdo

@isaacapatow

@salemcampbell

@ginnypark

@tristan---miller

Ermano: thank you all for coming. i think we are all anxious to hear about Sol’s adventure outside of these walls. -looks to Sol- Floor is yours.

Sol: -mustering up the nerve for public speaking- Well, like I proposed, I headed north. Overall estimate? I think things are pretty clear. As far up as Clarksburg, I didn’t see or hear of any major settlements…which is good or bad, depending on your outlook. I’ll leave smarter minds to decide that. Three noteworthy things went down.

On the way back, I scouted a campground that supported about a dozen folks. Two main families, and some solo survivors. They welcomed me right in, which surprised me. Figured by now, folks’d be taking a little more precaution.

Ike: A campground? No fortifications to speak of?

Sol: They’d put up some wire fencing, cans and shit. Seemed more worried about biters than bad folks. But it was a nice campground, the kind that’s almost like a motel? So I think they were relying on locking doors.

Ike: Gotcha. So they unlocked their doors for you, seeing as you're not trying to chomp anybody.

Ermano: I'm surprised they aren't worried about the savages.

Ike: Maybe they've been lucky enough to avoid 'em.

Sol: -wringing his hands a little- I asked ‘em if they’d run into unsavory types and they seemed shocked by the proposition. Naive, maybe? Or just real isolated.

Ermano: can’t be too isolated if you found them.

Salem: I'll be honest, not running into any shitty people after 5 years? Sounds hella unlikely.

Ike: -rubs a hand over his mouth to hide a smile at how discomfited this is all making Sol- If they've been nomadic and lucky then they could be on the up-and-up. These mountains and hollers got all sorts of places to hide out from trouble.

Sol: Well I’ll admit to an unfair advantage, working for the parks service before all this. Happened to have it in the ol’ mental map. Gonna be honest, these seemed like the type of folks that were already living near off-grid in the before times. Four of ‘em were kids, three had to close to 80. Damn granny made me take candy with me after I fixed their plumbing.

Ginny: [suddenly looks up from her note taking] Do you still have the candy?

Sol: -blushing- Sorry Miss Ginny, it’s been spoken for.

Ginny: Damn. Well, no worries, Mr. Sol. Carry on. [gets back to writing]

Tristan: Do you think we should open our doors for them? Thinking they could be allies of some sort?

Sol: See, that’s the odd part. I didn’t promise anything, but I figured I’d float it when they asked where I was from. Told ‘em we had a school for the kids, plenty of food…they had no interest.

Ike: So maybe they are wary of outside groups. Or did you catch something that made you suspect something more than that, Sol?

Sol: Not really? Hill folk can get real odd, it’s probably nothing more than that. But I will say that a couple of the solo folks without attachments there gave me looks when I was leaving. So I’d say don’t be too surprised if one of ‘em shows up. I didn’t give directions, but if someone’s determined enough, they’ll find this place.

Ermano: We can put an extra detail on outside security and up on the outpost. If anything, I'll do it.

Salem: Sounds like a good idea. We should keep an eye on that.

Sol: Second thing was less pleasant. Killed a trio of…what are we calling ‘em, savages?

Ermano: So you did come across some? How far away was this?

Sol: Used it as my turning back point, so about two weeks walk on foot? I was looking real haggard by then, think they took me for easy pickings.

Ike: -ears perk all the way up, eyes sharpening- Well shit. In my experience they form distinct packs. Some of em like wearing identifying clothes or markings. You catch any of that, Sol? Or was three all that there was?

Sol: Seemed to be an isolated group. Not all there in the head, from what I could tell. Drugs maybe? Whatever passes for drugs these days. I managed to question one when he was on the way out. He said they’d come from west a ways, near the Ohio border. Whether he’s telling the truth or not, anybody’s guess.

Ermano: In that cause, extra security will be needed and an extra pair of eyes in the outposts. I'll ask around and see if anyone would be willing to volunteer their time.

Ike: Y'know ... David mentioned there's been a migration of bigger game animals into this area lately. Wonder if they're sweeping in from the west too.

Ermano: Good point.

Sol: What concerned me most was something that happened during both incidents.

Ike: Don't keep us in suspense. kemo sabe.

Sol: -frowning and shaking his head- There’s a fucking myth stirring up around mutant zombies. Now I know they exist, I get that they’re real. But the kids at the campground asked me if I’d ever seen one. One of ‘em said he has dreams about ‘em for christ’s sake. And one of the savage guys practically begged me to kill him, said he had the mark of the chosen, he’d just come back as a mutant and take his revenge. I mean…I don’t want to start stirring up unnecessary shit, but what the actual hell?

Ermano: -runs a hand through his hair- Dios mio. Mutant fucking zombies

Ike: -even more intense now- And you're SURE they didn't have marks on 'em. None that you could see?

Ermano: No brand on their skin? Tattoos?

Sol: -wide-eyed- I mean shit, I don’t know, I didn’t strip search ‘em. Nothing obvious. For what it’s worth, the other two dudes looked at the one guy like he was nuts, too.

Ginny: So when they say ‘mutant’, they’re not talking, like, X-Men. They mean… what, revived? Killed then brought back as… whatever this is? If they’re talking…

Ike: Orion and me ran into some kids who had some sort of fixation on mutant zombies. Emzees, they called em. They had-- -rustles out a piece of paper from his pocket, showing them- They had this thing branded on them. Just the sun outline, not the face part, but we found a note that had this image.

Sol: -under his breath- Shit. Kids? See, that’s why this had me fucking uneasy, this cult shit.

I didn’t see nothing like that though, with or without the face.

Ike: -all but growling as he shoves the note back in his pocket- God dammit. Catch me up when I come back -- I gotta go check on something. -lopes out, quicktime-

Sol: Where the fu—where the fuck’s he going? Do we keep going if he leaves?

Ermano: At this point Isaac does, what Isaac does. -he sighs- Something we do need to take into consideration is if savages are cannibals. I've heard stories of them killing survivors for flesh. If that's the case, eating too much flesh can make the brain not work properly.

Ginny: Uhhh… I’m not sure how to make a note of this in the minutes. Isaac Apatow jogged out at 18:52? Isaac Apatow peaced out? Isaac Apatow yeeted out? Man, remember that word? What a good word.

Anyway: it’s probably worth considering who else knows about this. If people start throwing the word ‘mutant’ or ‘cult’ or God forbid both around willy-nilly, that’s a mess. So outside of us it’s, what, Orion? Is that it, Sol?

Ermano: -looks at ginny- You can say he stepped out. I think he's said he's grabbing something.

Sol: Yeah, I didn’t tell a soul til now. Has anyone here at Redwood encountered one the mutant zombies? I was under the impression they were real, but hell, is that just a myth, too?

Ginny: I’m gonna say peaced out.

No one has mentioned mutant zombies. At least not to me. But gossip’s got power, especially in a context like this. If word like that spread fast, no wonder people believed it. Yet you’re saying the mutant’s so-called friends looked at him like he’s crazy.

Ermano: Not that I’ve heard. And I’m sure someone would’ve said something about mutant zombies.

Salem: We should probably ask the other raiders about it. Orion doesn't seem like the type for gossip, but not sure about the others. But if anyone's seen anything it's them.

Ginny: That’s risky. What if word travels?

Salem: I mean don't have to ask them outright about mutants. Just prod and pry to see if they've seen anything strange or unusual.

Ginny: Good point.

Ermano: Raider, hunters. Hell, I’ll round security and talk to them.

Oh, and the graveyard shifts.

Ginny: I’m basically in the graveyard anyway. I can poke around there.

Salem: Ike should probably be the one to ask the raiders. Probably seems less suspicious if the head raider wants to know if anything weird is going on.

Ermano: Heard.

Sol: I’ll leave all the specifics to y’all. Last thing I got to say is that I wanna go back out there. Not right away—got some projects around here that need tending to. But next time, I wanna head west. I think if there’s trouble to root out, it’ll be in that direction.

Ermano: Heading out West, you think you'll need back-up this time? Someone to have your six and vice-versa? Just in case?

Ginny: [so, so quickly] I can go.

Sol: You wanna spend a month on the road…in the wild…with me?

Ermano: Didn't know you wanted to get away from us that bad, Gin. -slightly narrows eyes at her- I was thinking more David or Ryan, even.

Ginny: [she's suddenly backtracking] I mean... choose whoever you think is best for the job, of course. I'm only saying that... I'm willing and I don't have much going on. So.

Ermano: As long as it's okay with Sol to have company, we can find someone. And of course as long as we as Council agree on it as well. I just think if we're worried trouble might be on the horizon, back-up would be appropriate.

Ginny: ...Sure. I can step out. For the vote.

Ermano: We have to wait for Isaac anyway. -turns to Sol- What are your thoughts?

Sol: I mean, I won’t pretend to be great company. Kinda keep quiet when I’m traveling. But I wouldn’t mind Ginny coming along. She’s gotta bring a weapon and be okay with using it.

Ike: -coming back in hot on the tails of the conversation- Take Ginny if she wants to go. If you're trying to ingratiate yourselves as being non-threatening she's a better bet and we'll need David around here for weapons training.

Salem: And he's back. Why did you suddenly run out anyway?

Ermano: -looks to ginny- And you're sure you want to go?

Ike: -gives Salem a look- Didn't know I had to account for all my comings and goings to you, Mother.

Look, these mutant zombies ... they've just been rumours at the fringes, whenever I've head of them. Figured it was just drifter bullshit, stories raiders tell each other around camp at night. It still could be, I've never seen one or evidence of one. But clearly there's some people out there taking it seriously enough to do crazy shit.

Ermano: -he quietly chuckled to himself, shaking his head- If only Oliver was here. He'd be all over that shit.

Ginny: I’m sure. [to Sol] when do we leave?

Sol: Aim for a week from today? Gives me a chance to do some repairs, catch up on some things around here, and resupply.

Ginny: Sounds good to me. If you need a hand, let me know.

Ike: The girl Orion and I ran into -- they're teenagers -- she had ... she had filed teeth.

I don't know if they were the only ones, but if you run into anybody else with the sun markings, they might have 'em too.

Sol: -visibly bristling- You think they did that to themselves? Or you think somebody's doing it to them?

Ike: -after a moment of hesitation, uncharacteristic- I don't think any children come up with these things on their own.

Sol: 'Course...we'll keep an eye out. Helps now that I know what I'm looking for.

Ike: -rocks back on his heels for a moment, then nods- Good on you both for taking this on, you and Gin. -after a moment, slaps Sol on the shoulder, then ranges out again-

Ermano: That's the most emotion I've seen from him. -he shakes his head- Glad to have you back, hermano.

[bugsongs]

Ooohh 3, 14, 25? - <3 7central

3. Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year? - i got really into caroline rose this year!! i listened to their new album "the art of forgetting" a LOT she was my #1 artist. (i think i knew them a little bit before this year but only a song or two so i'm counting it)

14. Favorite book you read this year? - hijab butch blues by lamya h and it's not even a little close. completely blew me away!!

i do have to have a separate answer for fiction tho bc the thousand eyes by a k larkwood was such an insane book and sequel and it stressed me out so bad but in a way that was sooo fun and fucking cool to read. serpent gates duology fans pls hmu

25. Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one - oh that is such an interesting question! yeah i did a couple for solo games! actually the one i liked the most i pretty much made the character and then got distracted and didn't get into the gameplay BUT for the game "Banda's Grove" i made a head ranger for the campground who was i think a bear and her name was Ranger Tack. and she has a bit where every time someone asked if tack was short for something she'd say "yes, short for tacklebox" or "attack formation" and she always has a different answer.

[taxil]

Beobachtung II 17.9.23: Die Amis sind unhöflich

Worum's geht: Sieh mich an, du S.O.B., und grüß gefälligst zurück!

Auf meiner Kalifornienreise bin ich bislang zwei Arten von Mensch begegnet, und ich behaupte, dass es überwiegend US-AmerikanerInnen betrifft. Ich pauschalisiere natürlich gnadenlos, und der Titel ist clickbait-y. Ich kann kaum beweisen, dass es rein alles "die Amis" sind, kann nicht sagen, ob es nur Kalifornier oder obs eine Frage der Klasse/Schicht sind/ist. Liegts an meinem Deutschsein oder an der Einstellung der Leute? Blablablubb, das gleiche Kleingeschriebene aus meinem vorigen Blogbeitrag.

Wenn ich wandern gehe und mir dort Leute entgegenkommen, oder wenn ich auf einem Campingplatz meinen Zeltnachbarn begegne, verhalten sich diese komisch. Manchmal folgt nach dem verschreckten Mustern ein schnelles Wegsehen (etwa bei Jüngeren). Ältere oder wenigstens ähnliche Altrige murmeln schnell ein Hello oder Mornin, wenn ich zuerst gegrüßt habe.

Keine Ahnung, ob ich zuviel hineininterpretiere, doch in Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz habe ich das nicht erlebt. Oder in anderen Ländern, wo ich noch nicht einmal wirklich der Sprache mächtig gewesen bin. Ein Nicken oder Lächeln ist universell verständlich. Vielleicht sind die US-Amis eine Solo-Hikerin nicht gewohnt? Auf den 6-7 Wanderungen in den letzten 10 Tagen bin ich vielleicht zwei oder drei einsamen Wanderinnen begegnet (die im Übrigen immer lächelnd zurück/grüßen, sogar stehen bleiben; man versteht einander). Local ladies, die ihren Wasti spazieren führen oder joggen, zähle ich im Übrigen nicht dazu. Der Rest geht im Rudel oder es sind Pärchen; bei Paaren schnappe ich im Übrigen öfter mal Gesprächsfetzen rund ums Auto oder Hausbauen auf oder man hat in irgendeiner Form Pläne zu besprechen.

Besonders schlimm sind Pärchen mit Kindern, die bereits laufen können. Hier könnte es an der geteilten Aufmerksamkeit mir gegenüber liegen, aber auch das ist nicht immer erklärbar: Warum grüßt mich der gute Ehemann und Vater, der direkt nebenan am Grill steht und sein Bier schlürft, nicht, wenn wir gerade Augenkontakt aufgebaut haben? Oder warum kriegt die Mutti erst den Mund auf, wenn wir im Gemeinschaftsbad stehen und ich Platz für sie und ihr Kind vor dem Waschbecken mache? Auf Hikes starren mich diese Couples aus diesen Blankoaugen an, in die ich etwas hineinlegen muss, die ich ausfüllen soll mit einer Emotion, damit sie lebendig werden, damit der Mund einen Gruß formt oder wenigstens einmal der Kopf genickt wird.

Je mehr mir Verschlossenheit begegnet, desto penetrant fröhlicher werde ich. Bei älteren Semestern, die sich immer freuen ihr Wissen teilen zu dürfen, zieht das gut. Denn dann bekomme ich von der alten Volunteer-Dame etwas über die Redwoods erzählt, von Dave dem Guide aus dem Mining Museum aus Nevada City ein paar persönliche Kindheitserinnerungen über seine Mutter, oder von einem einheimischen Gassigeher vorgeschwärmt, dass ihm wirklich das Oktoberfest abgehe, aber der Job in Deutschland sei leider nur befristet gewesen. Auch schön: Auf dem äußerst isoliert gelegenen und rudimentären Campground bei Battle Creek im Lassen Volcanic National Park nickte und winkte mir bei jedem Vorbeigehen ein zerrupft aussehender Herr höheren Alters, der vor seinem Lagerfeuer saß, zu, als sei er erfreut, ein jüngeres Gesicht unter den Campingveteranen zu sehen (die Gegend dort ist wirklich rough, unerträglich trocken und grau für meine nordische Sensibilität; ich bin nach zwei Tagen wieder aus Lassen geflohen, aus Angst irgendwo in der Sierra ohne Wasser zu stranden). Der Mann hat nicht versucht mich in ein Gespräch zu verwickeln, sondern einfach meine Gegenwart freundlich zur Kenntnis genommen. Mehr will ich die meiste Zeit auch nicht.

Bilder: Vulkanische Landschaft mit Zahnstochern garniert. Und dafür wollte der Nationalpark $30 Eintritt. Nein danke, ich suchte mir meine eigene Wanderstrecke in einem aufgeforsteten Waldstück weiter östlich der Route 36, immer noch beinahe unerträglich trocken und natürlich nur bergauf in der prallen Sonne.

Doch die Jungen und jene mittleren Alters blicken durch mich hindurch und preschen in Gedanken versunken an mir vorbei, geplagt von persönlichen Krisen, Job Crunches, dem Kredit für Haus und Wagen oder anderen Geheimnissen. A propos preschen: Wenn Amerikaner wandern, stürmen sie voran. Das ist mir schon in Hawaii mit meinen Farmkollegen aufgefallen. Hocheffizient, dicht getaktet, volloptimiert. Und dann kommt da so eine Deutsche daherflaniert und grüßt aufdringlich, wahrscheinlich willse Geld.

Bild unten: Bedrängtes Mannequin aus dem Plumas County Museum, Quincy.

[jow99]

L’Escala to Vilanova i la Geltrú

Thursday morning we cycled, Jose with the group and me solo as Marjolein was on her way to meet the next Odyssey group. The morning started grey and I was pretty nonplussed, but then the sky cleared and all was right with the world 😎

In the afternoon we watched La Vuelta and then did some shopping and had a drink before heading back to Tessi for nibbles and dinner.

Friday morning it was time to pack up and move on. We headed to Vilanova i la Geltrú, which is where the Americas Cup trials are being held. It was only about a 2.5 hour drive but as we approached the heavens opened. Needless to say for the first few hours here we didn’t leave Tessi but holed up watching La Vuelta.

Thankfully the rain stopped early evening and we did venture out for a drink at the bar here in the campground. The rest of the evening was spent in Tessi for nibbles and dinner and some packing for the next few days.

[raitrolling]

Moonlight Sonata

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

The lake had once been home to a Nixie - one of the malicious sorts, who lured trolls from a nearby camping ground into the water’s depths by singing tales of merriment and desire, and then would feast on the entrails of the drowned bodies. Ordinarily such a creature would have been left alone, the campground was far enough from any major towns that any supernatural occurrence would not be a threat to Trollkind as a whole. But after multiple research teams had vanished from the area without a trace, one of Gaia’s Special Operations units were called in to relocate it.

Mikiel had not been assigned that particular mission. He was an occupational hazard to any team dealing with entities with mental manipulation abilities, as the Patron’s protection was not nearly enough to counterbalance his brain’s weak mental resistance. It was a side effect of his uncontrollable psiionics, and one that had been hardly relevant to his ordinary life until he was dealing with such foes on an almost-nightly basis. If he was not being sent out on solo missions to pick off any supernatural entities or rogue mages who could take advantage of his metaphorical Achilles’ Heel, then any team efforts had to be carefully planned around his unruly nature - both as a psiionic user and as a troll with an attitude problem.

He knew he was a liability, but he hated being treated like one. For that reason, he would only agree to such missions if his presence was absolutely necessary.

It therefore struck him as unusual, then, that he had overheard one of his colleagues who had been assigned to the Nixie Relocation Operation say something he’d never heard before: “I wish Giacho had come with us. We could have used his psiionics.”

How absurd, that his uncontrollable, unruly, hazardous-to-friend-and-foe-alike cryokinesis was considered desirable. 

The campground had been deserted for weeks following the incident. Word had spread around about a dangerous beast murdering vacationers, nothing but rumour and heresy as the ordinary population would never consider the possibility of a mythological creature being the culprit. But, the amount of half-devoured bodies fished out out the lake was enough to confirm that something was out there. Even those lucky enough to have not been exposed to the nonsense that is the supernatural would not be stupid enough to dismiss the warning signs. The grounds had been fitted with limited amenities: A few stray picnic tables graffitied with carvings and char marks from faulty camp stoves, a barbeque with sweeps worth of hamburger grease baked into its surface, and a small block of showers and toilets that would be lucky to get cleaned at least once every couple of weeks. 

Camping, of course, would never be on Mikiel’s list of activities any time soon. What he was more interested in making the long trek out here for was the lake itself.

Said lake was fairly unremarkable, but the blueblood never had an eye for nature unless it had been painted on a canvas over one hundred sweeps ago. The twin moons reflected off the still water, lightly dyeing it in green and pink hues, and there was a soft breeze causing the grass surrounding it to rustle. He could not feel any lingering traces of magic in the air, nor any signs that a new Nixie had taken the previous one’s place. In fact, Mikiel had not seen any wildlife around the campgrounds or the lake at all.

It made it a perfect location, then, for what he was planning on doing. 

He stood at the water’s edge, right at the point where the water would gently lap at the tips of his boots. He cast a gaze across his entire surroundings to make sure that he definitely had not been followed, and slowly, he removed his gloves. The shift in the air would have been palpable to anyone else, the temperature rapidly dropping around him as his psiionics were no longer confined to his inhibitor’s restraints. He shoved the gloves into his pants pocket, a light dusting of frost sticking to his clothes when his bare fingers brushed against them. Ice began to spread out underneath his feet, causing the water to also start to freeze. 

He never felt comfortable without his inhibitors, barely in control of his cryokinesis even with them on. But tonight, he was feeling calm, silently watching how quickly the world around him changed into a frozen landscape. It was no wonder that colleague of his thought he could have been useful on this mission, there would have been nowhere for that Nixie to escape. But also, nowhere for the rest of the squadron to take shelter from the cold. That was precisely why he was so dangerous, but it would seem that being fucked in the head was a pre-requisite for employment at his workplace, as no matter how many times he tries to articulate that he is a danger to everyone else he is met with scoffs and eyerolls.

His moirail would also disagree with him. According to Thrixe, he was not inherently dangerous, but had spent so long stifling his psiionics out of hatred that he was simply unrefined with using them. Mikiel initially thought that was ridiculous - Pheira had told him the same thing, and look how that mentorship turned out - but after sparring a couple times with the half-horrorterror while not wearing his inhibitors he had to admit there was some merit to those words. He could go all-out whenever they fought as Thrixe could easily shake off being frozen multiple times over, and… It felt a little freeing. When he didn’t focus on the harm he was capable of doing by failing to rein in his psiionics, they were nothing more than an extension of himself, something as natural as breathing. 

The ice had frozen a quarter of the lake, reaching the limits of how far his cryokinesis could naturally cover while standing still. Mikiel shook off some stray patches of ice that had started to cling to his legs and threatened to freeze himself in place, and did some quick stretches to keep moving. He then withdrew two blades from his modus, ones that would normally be mounted onto the bottoms of a pair of ice skates, and froze them to his own boots. Always the perfectionist, his psiionics perfectly aligned the blades without him needing to think about it. He breathed in, exhaled a puff of frozen air, and stepped out onto the frozen lake. As he skated towards the centre in a long clockwise spiral, the ice followed him, until finally the rink was complete. 

Away from anyone’s gaze, under the twin moons in this silent night, with no one to prove anything to and no one to judge him by himself, Mikiel began to glide around the lake in a way that was reminiscent of the nights he once spent practising his figure skating. 

He could have gone professional, he had been told, but he never saw the point. He would bring nothing revolutionary to the sport, and all the best routines had already been perfected by those far more capable than him. It had been easier for him to quit while he was ahead. When he gains enough speed to spring into the air and experimentally twist his body into a double axel he knows it would never meet a judge’s approval, his ankle wobbles slightly when he lands and he lacks the perfect grace one should have when he swings his other leg out behind him to complete the jump, but he continues on.

He glides backwards, then turns to right himself while he loops around the edges of the lake. When he starts to feel comfortable with his movement, he readies a second jump: A quadruple toe jump into a triple. When he strikes the ice with the toe of the blade, small spikes shoot outwards from the ice, but he pays them no mind. Ordinarily he would be frustrated at this slight loss of control, but right now his focus is on perfecting his jumps. The landing of the triple toe jump was much smoother than his initial axel, and, feeling satisfied with these practice jumps, he began to relax into one of his old routines.

The lake is silent aside from the sound of the blades against the ice, but he can envision the music he once danced to perfectly. And despite the physical exertion required to perform this dance, he finds himself quietly humming the melody to keep time - as well as one can hum along to the 1st movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.

He starts slowly, following the rhythm of the song. Only slow single spins as he circles around the ice, but not too slowly that his psiionics would cause the ice to cling to his feet. But when he stretches out his arms in a dramatic flourish the ice shifts with him, building up small clusters of spikes on the ground underneath him. He builds up speed, readying his first proper jump, a turn into a triple flip. As his toe strikes the ice and he launches himself into the air, his psiionics follow the momentum of his leg to pull more ice from the frozen lake, creating an arc of spikes behind him. He lands perfectly, and ignores the small trail of spikes behind him. Surprisingly, they would not block his path.

Gesture and form make up the majority of the movement in this performance, the way he moves his head towards the imaginary crowd and holds a hand out towards them, how he pulls his shoulders and head back and splays his fingers during an outside spread eagle slide, the way he points his toes when he lifts his feet from the ice, the tiny flourishes with every turn and pivot. Sweeps in the Red Scarves’ fighting ring and a lifetime of closing himself out from others should have rendered his movements stiff and ungraceful, but on the ice, he felt free. 

The second jump is a triple axel, and once he lands (much more smoothly than his first attempt) he continues the momentum into multiple backwards spins. The frost on his glasses was starting to impede his vision, but he felt as if he could trust himself to not fall. The ice spikes were continuing to follow his movement, rising higher into the air the faster he moved, but the path was still clear. While he was so focused on performing his old routine as perfectly as possible, he was failing to notice that his psiionics were not impeding his progress, but accentuating his movement to improve its artistry. 

Funny how one’s control of their own powers is at its best when they no longer need to think about how they should be used.

He reached the section in his routine in which the music picks up, and so does his footwork. The turns became dizzying; his single spins became triples, quadruples, quintuples; he dodges and weaves around the clusters of spikes until the music would have hit a swell where he leaps into an impressive quadruple salchow. The landing for this one is far from perfect, as he doesn’t quite reach the final turn and his foot hits the ice earlier than expected, but the flurry of ice arcing up around him hides the wobbly landing and less-than-stellar recovery, and he glides into the next movement with little issue. 

The final section of the song features a backwards hydroblade, one that Mikiel remembers practicing for a long time as a child. He had seen that movement in an Olympic performance, and the marriage of speed, grace, and physical strength all in a single movement had absolutely captivated him. It was taxing to perform after multiple jumps, when the legs start to become fatigued from the exertion. He skated a loop around the rink, twisted around to pivot backwards, and while still maintaining his speed, lowered himself as closely to the ground as possible. This time, the ice followed his free leg and outstretched hand as if a ribbon was trailing behind him, creating a raised path that defied gravity. As he rose back to full height and topped off this movement with an euler into a triple salchow, the ice paths twirled upwards into a spiral pattern above his head. He had made ramps using his psiionics before, but never anything of this sort.

The choreography is completed with the longest spin of all. He twirls his way towards the centre of the rink, and with the same amount of force required to pull off one of many jumps he has performed so far, brings up one leg to begin the sequence. Camel spin to sit spin, then from sitting to upright while still grasping one leg, a full upright spin of almost blinding speeds, and finally completing it with a layback spin. Spirals of ice spikes radiate outwards around him and icy paths twist around those same spirals, until finally- he sweeps one leg around him in a final motion and strikes the finishing pose, one arm fully outstretched towards the sky and his head tilted back as far as his neck will allow. 

It is at this point where the adrenaline catches up to him and Mikiel finally feels out of breath. He inhales and exhales deeply, trying to take in as much oxygen from the freezing air as possible and feeling the sting of the frozen particles in his throat. There is a tension building up in his legs that feels like a lead weight, not used to performing movements any more complex than simply skating on ice to get from one location to the other. And now that he is no longer moving, frost starts to build up on his clothes and the ice that has frozen his skate blades to his boots begins to creep further up his legs. Once again, he is reminded that his cryokinesis can never be totally controlled, and when left unrestrained for too long it starts to run rampant.

But, as he finally takes notice of the display of ice around him, the way the twin moons artfully reflect off every spire and pathway, his dance moves immortalised in pathways of glistening spikes, the way he can trace every twist and turn and jump from the direction and size of every piece of ice, he understands something. Thrixe is right, there is a beauty to his powers. He just has to allow himself to be free.

[lunarscaled]

"Let's tell ghost stories around the fire. I'll go first." - Rei

HALLOWEEN STARTERS

-> It isn't a house party like Lyric expects. Ritsu told them something about the privacy of the Sakuma family that bleeds into everything they do, and Lyric supposed that included hosting any kind of social gatherings that could disclose personal information, so when they have to follow convoluted directions to a heavily decorated campground, they know they shouldn't be surprised by the flair of it all. Surprisingly, the outdoor space is more comforting to Lyric than any ritzy castle home gala might ever be. Lyric had spent plenty of time sleeping outside when they were a kid, in worse conditions and under desperate circumstances, and though they hadn't brought any of that up to the younger vampire it puts them at ease on the approach of the warm, orange lights and little holiday-inspired hanging paper ghosts and bats. The space is fine, yes. It's the people that make Lyric anxious.

-> Of course Rei wouldn't be sitting in a decorated space alone. That's only logical. But Lyric doesn't recognize any of the other... students? Groupmates? Lyric had taken to attempting to immerse themselves in the music of their friend, listening to Knights' recent work in case it ever came up as a question of their support, but it wasn't quite the sound they usually took to. By algorithmic suggestion, UNDEAD had also come up, and while Lyric had only listened to a handful of individual songs it felt like a betrayal to say they were more partial to that sound than Ritsu's own group. And that knowledge makes this solo escapade feel double-sided---they were just dropping off Ritsu's candy collection and a few things he had forcibly received from people who recognized him ( confession letters, little trinkets, phone numbers he'd throw away... ) and hoped they could easily get away after that. So, they aren't sure how they ended up standing awkwardly near the fire, still holding the bag, when they couldn't quite get a word in between Rei and his friends. Their fingers pluck at the edge of Ritsu's pillowcase, their brow furrowed as they tried to find a gap. Let's tell ghost stories around the fire---

"Actually, um---"

-> They feel anxiety just speaking up. Rei on his own was a manageable, charismatic personality, but Lyric didn't want to leave a poor impression on a band they potentially liked, and a group of people whose social reach was probably enough to ruin their life on a good day.

"I just... came to drop this off. Ritsu said you would watch it? I shouldn't stay."