#That's right— 4/23 is upon us yet again— and the night before today was spent up at the arcade I went to a few months back!

[stardestroyer81]

Me, running straight into Clyde on the first level of Turbo Ms. Pac-Man: Fake gamer. This isn't the one.

Also me, several levels, extra lives and one game over later:

⭐ The arcade superstar never left. ⭐

[turtle-paced]

A:tLA Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

Well, not quite on the long weekend, but here’s the recap anyway.

Book 1, Chapter 6 - Imprisoned

(0:55) Previously, on Avatar, the Water Tribes know what it’s like to be stuck at the ass end of the world slowly dying, but Katara’s hope is actually inspiring and she and Sokka found the Avatar for a reason. It’s going to be a Katara-centric episode. The group is still heading to the North Pole, while Zuko continues chasing them.

(1:45) We’re out of the snow! It’s still winter (seeing as the next episode is titled ‘The Winter Solstice’), but yeah. No snow. At the very least, this area’s warm enough that snow isn’t an all-winter condition.

(2:02) This is what I mean by the show bringing up supplies when they’re an issue. Note that Sokka doesn’t actually know what any of these nuts are. He hasn’t spent enough time in the Earth Kingdom to know what’s edible.

(2:48) The character contrast in two nutshells. Aang and Katara run towards the loud booming noises in the forest, Sokka advises hanging back (but goes with the majority). Then, when they find Haru, Aang and Katara want to make friends, but Sokka says he looks dangerous so they should be cautious. It’s a joke, mostly at Sokka’s expense, but it’s also consistent characterisation that helps give Sokka an important role in the team even when he’s outshone by ridiculous amounts in the direct combat department. He thinks very differently in some ways to his sister and his friends. This is sometimes unhelpful and sometimes downright necessary for the characters collectively to succeed. Today is an unhelpful day.

(2:56) Upon seeing Katara, the practicing earthbender drops everything and runs, going so far as to block pursuit. No questions, no chances, just immediate flight. Weird reaction, hey?

(3:06) Aang says that Haru must be running somewhere. Like a village. Which should have a market. Like I said back in episode one, every main character is smart. Showing it in these tiny, low-stakes, incidental conversations makes it believeable when they do big, dramatic smart things.

(3:21) Pan over this Earth Kingdom village. It’s pretty different to Kyoshi Island, and honestly looks a fair bit more prosperous. Earthbending means this village has got a very neat-looking mine and that building a wall around town isn’t a big deal. Interestingly, most building here are made of wood, or at least significantly involve wood in their construction (lintels, structural beams, doors, floors, I think even the rooftops).

(3:40) We get Haru’s name here as Katara spots him and follows him into his mother’s store.

(3:55) As soon as Aang says ‘earthbending’, Haru’s mother slams the doors and windows closed. Until now, the gAang has only travelled in free territory. Scared, paranoid territory, but free territory. This episode is a quick and brutal look at life in an occupied Earth Kingdom village. There’s a lot of fear here.

(4:09) Right on cue, Fire Nation soldiers drop by. The taxes they’re collecting are extortionate and their schedule for payment is arbitrary. The occupying force is taking financially and using this as a terror tactic. This becomes more explicit as the soldier says “we wouldn’t want an accident, would we?” and creates a fireball in his hands.

(4:58) Love the worldbuilding on this show. Why’s the Fire Nation here? Sokka asks, and Haru’s mother has an answer. Turns out all those coal-fired ships the Fire Nation uses? They need coal. The village is being exploited for its natural resources, too.

(5:09) Katara asks why Haru doesn’t help fight back, as he so clearly wants to. Especially since it means not bending, which she says is part of who she is. Haru’s mother explains that Haru would be arrested and taken from the village for earthbending (hold on to the information that the walls and mine are clearly products of earthbending), just like Haru’s father was. So let’s add some deeply personal and cultural oppression to the list of things going on here.

It’s also a tough lesson that resisting the Fire Nation in places like this isn’t as simple as saying “fight back.” There are serious risks involved.

(5:43) More panning over Earth Kingdom scenery. Vegetable patches and a silo can be seen. Little visual touches to remind the viewer that these background characters were in this place before the story arrived there, and will continue on offscreen once the story leaves. It helps make the world feel real.

(6:08) Katara and Haru go off and bond. Katara apologises for accidentally bringing up any hurt related to Haru’s father, ‘cause she’s a good, considerate person.

(6:18) Haru tells Katara how brave his father was to resist the Fire Nation invasion, against what odds. After which Haru’s father was taken away, and his family haven’t seen him since. The only way Haru can feel close to his father is by practicing earthbending, which also puts him in danger.

The entire backstory here gets into the big issues - invasion, mass internment, cultural oppression - by linking it with the much smaller slice of life. Just Haru, missing his father.

(6:48) Katara gives the exposition on her necklace, the last memento she has of her mother. The conversation leaves off pretty brutally as well. “It’s not enough, is it?” “No.” And that’s it. There’s only acknowledgement of their mutual pains, not closure. There’s not enough. There’s a hole there that cannot be filled.

(7:05) As Katara and Haru head back, they pass the mine collapsing. What happens when an earthbender-produced mine has to operate without earthbenders? It seems very likely to me that earthbending is a major part of mining safety and maintenance in Avatar world, and the removal of earthbenders from town would logically result in more mine collapses and accidents.

(7:32) Haru bravely earthbends to rescue the old man from the mine collapse.

(7:59) One of the really nice things about Aang? He’s impressed by Katara’s accomplishments, even one as small as inspiring Haru to his own little rebellion.

(8:12) Sokka brings up that point from back in 1.04 that if they hang around a village (especially an occupied village) they’re going to be in trouble. They have to keep moving. Continuity! Learning the lessons of previous episodes!

(8:41) Fire Nation soldiers show up in the dead of night to arrest Haru for earthbending, on the information of the old Earth Kingdom man Haru saved. Informants and midnight arrests - it’s a freaking scary depiction of life under occupation. Not to mention the moral texture it brings to the series. The Fire Nation is inarguably wrong and oppressive. But that doesn’t make the people of the Earth Kingdom saints. Individuals have a range of responses to the Fire Nation, and here we see it’s up to and including willing collaboration with their oppressors. We’re never going to see this old man again. He never gets any on-screen comeuppance. He never gets told he was wrong. This is just a lesson for the main characters.

The show’s worked up to this idea, with the hostility of the Kyoshi Islanders and Bumi placing the gAang under arrest. Now it’s serious. The characters can’t assume that Earth Kingdom people will be on their side.

And this ultimately leads up to the point that this conflict isn’t about one nation being inherently bad and the others being inherently good. 

(8:56) Love to see some mundane uses of bending - in this case, Katara doesn’t bother actually pumping water, she just yanks it out of the pump.

(9:23) And a nice thing about Sokka - when he sees Katara is upset, he moves to comfort her physically. However, also notice what Sokka actually says. Part of his idea of comforting Katara is working on solutions to the external problem, working out what happened and what they might be able to do about it. It’s very pragmatic and not very touchy-feely. While it comes with the best of intentions, and Katara doesn’t even have to ask for Sokka’s support and assistance, you can see where Katara might want a friend who’s a little more emotionally supportive. Different people fill different roles.

(9:31) But on to the main event! Katara’s got a plan to break Haru out of Fire Nation prison. Thus far Katara’s been strong and capable, and particularly impressive in how she’s dealt with a grief-stricken Aang. This marks her first opportunity to take up the foremost heroic role in an episode. She’s making the plans, she’s driving the action, she’s saving the day. It starts with her getting arrested for earthbending.

(9:49) A team plan! Katara had the basic idea of using airbending to simulate earthbending, but it looks to me like Sokka did the actual engineering of finding the vents that connect, while Aang’s going to be doing the actual bending. This is also a classic example of how Sokka’s character development is going to go over the course of the series and the reason he’s such an important part of the team. He puts the details into the big ideas.

(9:55) And here’s Aang’s fun-loving, lighthearted nature shown as a flaw rather than a virtue (in a fairly comedic, low-ish stakes kind of way) before the serious long-term implications become most apparent in season three. He’s goofing off and not taking responsibility for his part in this plan. Later, when Aang doesn’t want to find a firebending teacher and doesn’t want to think about how he’s planning to deal with Ozai, that’s perfectly believeable. We’ve seen him skip out on small details, so we can believe Aang would skip out on the big ones.

Furthermore, in character and plot terms, the character trait that’s a minor hiccup in the plan this episode causes serious problems later, and yet remains an important strength in other episodes (and across those episodes in how Aang actually keeps moving forward). There’s nuance there in Aang’s character, and nuance in the plots that recognise that things aren’t usually as simple as ‘this character trait good, that character trait bad’.

(10:18) This entire scene gives me the giggles so bad, starting with this Fire Nation soldier’s bemused reaction. Earthbending style.

(11:17) The group exchanges a bunch of anxious looks. Despite the comic nature of the faked fight, they did just arrange for Katara to get arrested by the Fire Nation and hauled off to a prison for dissidents. This is serious stuff.

(11:30) Cut to a port, and Katara on a boat. Nobody seems surprised that the prison is offshore.

(12:15) Cameo from George Takei here, hamming it up.

(12:41) The faux affability of the welcoming is shown by the Warden’s willingness to use fire on a prisoner when the prisoner simply coughs. Followed by condemning the man to a week of solitary imprisonment. Also worth noting that the Warden is completely unfazed by the presence of a young teenager amongst the prisoners.

(13:05) The Warden helpfully points out that the rig is made entirely of metal, which earthbenders cannot affect with their powers. (At this point in the series.) It brings a pretty significant limitation of earthbending to the table in a series set just as their world’s industrial revolution is going global.

It’s also a good indication of how hard imprisoning a bender is. This rig must be absolutely brutal to live on, for the guards as well as the prisoners. It couldn’t have been cheap to build, either. I’ll come back to the topic of criminal justice and bending ability later in the series, but for now just keep in mind that prison for benders a) requires cruel conditions and b) is logistically burdensome to say the least.

(13:16) The Warden also describes earthbending as ‘brutish savagery’, so here’s some fire supremacy for you all! Again, the big thing - the Fire Nation taking over the world and thinking that’s okay - is reflected in the little thing, a Fire Nation character casually dismisssing any worth in earthbending (when we just a few minutes ago heard Haru speak about how important it was to his family bonds).

(13:47) Katara looks over the prisoners and sees a lot of people in absolute despair. Keep an eye out for female prisoners. I keep raising this background detail thing because it tells you how the writers and animators are thinking about the “normal” state of the world.

(13:52) A nice touch from a design standpoint is that Haru is about the only person wearing a deep, living green, rather than the prisoner brown/grey/very dried-out green combination.

(14:11) Haru did at least succeed in finding his father, Tyro.

(14:29) This exchange does nicely to set up Tyro as a kind individual whose sense of humour has not been totally eradicated by the situation he’s in.

(14:52) Tyro tells Katara that there’s no escape plan, only a survival plan.

(14:58) There are some female prisoners in this shot! Which is evidence of female earthbenders, even though we still don’t see very many in the rest of the series.

(15:14) Much like in town, Katara is reminded that things aren’t necessarily so simple as “fight back”. She’s talking to people who have been dealing with the Fire Nation, unsuccessfully, for years. What does fighting back look like to these people, after all this time? What do they stand to lose?

(15:21) I do love this exchange. Tyro says, “I’m sorry, but we’re powerless,” and Katara replies, “We’ll see about that.” What she wants and what she aims to achieve is to give the prisoners here their power back. She’s trying to help them to help themselves. Even though this speech doesn’t work. Very eloquent for an impromptu speech, too.

(16:44) Aang and Sokka arrive to provide backup.

(17:01) Katara refuses to leave the prison until she’s accomplished her objective. She emphasises that it’s the people she’s not giving up on. For all her character development over the series, this trait stays exactly the same, arguably the very core of her character.

(17:30) We get the split in group opinion again. Katara and Aang want to stay and help, Sokka wants to leave. Outvoted, and aware that he’s not going to overcome Katara’s stubbornness on this point, Sokka says they’d better hide.

(17:48) Two guards report an Appa sighting to the Warden. This is actually a really good drawback to the convenience of having a flying bison, narratively - he’s just not all that inconspicuous.

(18:06) The Warden throws a man overboard for questioning whether the difference between a flying bison or a flying buffalo is all that pertinent. Love this show. I’m also getting serious “do the tides command this ship?” vibe. Only less competent. Though the Warden does have the competence to get the core point that there’s something amiss, and orders a full search of the rig.

(18:42) Aang wishes he knew how to make a hurricane, because then the Warden would run away and the party could just take his keys. Now this is what people mean when they call Aang naive. Note that this wishful thinking from Aang doesn’t involve direct confrontation with the Warden. He wants the problem to go away. It’s not an issue with Aang’s intellect, it’s an issue with Aang’s psychology.

(18:53) Sokka wants to give the earthbenders some literal power. Some literal substance they can bend so that they can free themselves.

(19:08) It’s Aang who points out that earthbenders are able to bend coal, and the Fire Nation keeps coal on the rig. Naive, not stupid!

(19:22) Like I said, Sokka doesn’t often lead the way or deal with the party’s biggest ideas, but he is absolutely unmatched when it comes to making their goals into workable plans. As Katara asks Sokka “are you sure this is going to work?” we can be sure that the details here were Sokka’s doing. Moreover, he’s applied knowledge of vents he picked up earlier in the episode.

It’s also worth noting that Sokka was against staying to rescue the earthbenders and still put his all into coming up with a plan once he was outvoted. He works with Katara and Aang in good faith so that the disagreement doesn’t wreck their teamwork.

(20:02) Once again, Aang provides the muscle as he airbends some staggering quantities of coal onto the deck.

(20:22) Again, quite realistically, the earthbenders are hesitant to take the opportunity Katara’s just provided. The Warden underlines the point that it’s Katara’s inspirational words versus years of oppression and despair. Sure, that is the problem here. Katara tries, and she’s mocked by the villain for trying.

(20:59) But as the lump of coal crashes into the back of the Warden’s head, the show says that Katara was right and the Warden was wrong. Katara’s faith was not misplaced and her words and actions did make a difference here. Even if it sounded silly to start with.

(21:09) Love that the coal actually ignites when hit by fireblasts.

(21:25) Yes, we did see a female earthbender prisoner fighting back there! And I’m still pretty sure that this is one of the vanishingly few occasions we’ll see female earthbenders active in the background of the series.

(21:57) The earthbenders prioritise getting off the rig.

(22:05) Here’s Katara again. This is the first we see her actively participating in this skirmish. She hasn’t actually done much fighting - the point here was always what she could do to empower others to fight. She’s still got her necklace at this point. Notice also Aang’s creative use of airbending to propel small pieces of coal at the Fire Nation soldiers.

(22:33) The earthbenders steal a Fire Nation ship and head back to the mainland. Katara’s lost her necklace in this shot. Haru and Tyro spell out the effect of Katara’s actions.

(23:04) Tyro declares his intention to take back all their villages, which tells us that the prisoners were not from just one place. They must have been brought in from several towns and villages in the general area. Looks like the gAang’s leaving some insurgents behind them, right in Ozai’s coal supply.

(23:26) Haru thanks Katara for her help with that small thing of returning his dad for him, and wishes he could do the same for her. She also realises that she’s lost her mother’s necklace at this point.

(23:35) And who should pick it up but Zuko, who we haven’t seen for almost two whole episodes. Presumably he’s followed a report of Avatar-based shenanigans, and he’s got real sharp eyes to pick out the one Water Tribe thing in all this.

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 38

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Interlude | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37

“Hiccup.”

Hiccup peered down from his perch on Toothless’ back at the tiny figure on the land far below waving furiously at him. The figure called again, distant at first until the sound drifted up to meet him. Hiccup’s brow furrowed. Sound had never echoed like that up into the air before. What felt like a hand clamped down on his shoulder, dragging him off Toothless. Hiccup yelped Toothless’ name, arms reaching for his dragon as he watched helplessly as Toothless tumbled down along with him.

“HICCUP!”

He jerked out of sleep, eyes popping open and wildly flicking about. Blonde hair and bright blues eyes filled his frame of vision. He paused, staring into those eyes.

“Hey,” Astrid said, softly. The caress of her knuckles soothed across his cheek. “Where were you?”

He turned his head, nuzzling her knuckles, thankful for her presence. “In a really crazy dream.”

“Are you okay?” Astrid asked, her hand retreating into her lap.

“Yeah.”

Hiccup sat up, rubbing the sleep from his face. They’d spent the past three late nights training the other teens to become dragon riders. Hiccup wanted to ease into the training, and Fishlegs seemed to be the least likely to cause chaos. Aside from Fishlegs’ barely restrained shrieks, he did remarkably well. Hiccup had crafted a simple saddle for each rider to start off with. Fishlegs had white-knuckled the saddle so hard, he left imprints of his fingernails in the leather. He’d finally eased after several minutes of his Gronckle – which Fishlegs named Meatlug -- hovering and gently buzzing over the boundaries of the cove.

The following nights weren’t as uneventful. As soon as the twins’ rear ends planted in their saddles, they spurred their Hideous Zippleback to zoom off. Astrid and Hiccup found them zig-zagging through the sky, hooting and hollering – Hiccup’s fear hitting Fahrenheit at the thought of all the attention they were most likely attracting. They barely got the twins attention to follow them toward the cove so Hiccup could pick up Toothless. After the wild training session and one tree blown to fiery bits on a neighboring island, the twins dubbed their dragon heads Barf and Belch.

Snotlout walked into the training session as if he was the greatest dragon expert known to the Archipelago. He sauntered up to his Monstrous Nightmare and commanded the Nightmare to bow for him to mount. The Nightmare eyed Snotlout as if he was the dumbest sack of rocks on Berk. He snatched Snotlout in his pointy teeth – in which Snotlout yelped so loud it felt it echoed through the entire island (another fear-cringing moment for Hiccup) – and tossed Snotlout onto his neck. The Nightmare blew a puff of hot breath at him before following Stormfly through the tunnel. The only other incident that night was the Nightmare heating Snotlout’s butt when he got too cocky. Hiccup was right. The Nightmare would definitely keep his cousin’s ego in check. Snotlout dubbed his Nightmare – Hookfang – because his dragon needed a “kicka** name”.

Other than the few attention-drawing incidents that thankfully didn’t draw attention as far as they were aware, the training sessions went well. Every teen had bonded with their dragon and Hiccup could see the friendships growing. Slowly, very slowly, the knots in Hiccup’s stomach began to unwind.

Hiccup scanned Astrid. She wore her daily clothes. Her skin glistened from a light sweat from most likely a morning jog. “Sorry I overslept and didn’t have breakfast waiting for you.”

“It’s not like you don’t have a good excuse.”

“You were out as late as I was.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “This isn’t a competition, Hiccup.” She grabbed his hand, giving him a hearty yank. “Now, get up. We have dragon training with Gobber.”

“Why isn’t that over with yet?” Hiccup whined as he let Astrid drag him to his feet.

“It’s over when the Chief declares it over,” she tossed a green tunic his way and a pair of pants that slapped Hiccup in the face, “and since the Chief has returned—"

Hiccup froze, clothes hanging haphazardly on his arms. His stomach bottomed out at the realization that hadn’t hit him yet. “My dad will be watching today.”

Astrid immediately appeared in front of him and cupped his shoulders. She caught his line of sight. “Focus on me, Hiccup.” His distant stare finally snapped to her. “We’ll get through this, and when your dad sees how well the training has been going, he’ll declare it over and we can move on.”

She took the clothes from him, laying them on the bed. Before Hiccup noticed what she was doing, a shiver ran over his skin as Astrid hauled his nightshirt over his head – leaving Hiccup in only his undershorts. She reached over for his tunic and offered it to him. “Get dressed.”

***

Today, they would battle the Monstrous Nightmare. The group had barely trained with the Nightmare in the ring. Their first session with him led to Snotlout flailing around the arena franticly searching for water to put out his flaming rear end. But, that was before he’d made friends with the Nightmare that he called Hookfang.

Hiccup and Astrid had trained Hookfang in a choreographed fight as they had all the other arena dragons. He knew cues that they would give him to perform certain attack moves. They’d informed the other teens of these moves. They knew what to look for, and hopefully they wouldn’t do anything dumb to counteract those silent commands.

The helmet his father bestowed to him perched heavy atop Hiccup’s head. He’d grudgingly brought it with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the gift, but it had been given to him under false pretenses. It felt like a beacon on top of his head of the blatant lie he carried – a lie that could easily be spilled out at any given moment.

“We’ll get through this,” Astrid reassured as they paused in the tunnel of the arena. The other teens had gone on into the ring. She tucked her fingertips under his chin for him to look her in the eyes. “We have so far.” She left a quick peck of encouragement on his lips before gliding confidently into the arena as if she owned it.

Hiccup watched his wife – his strong, courageous wife – and breathed in from the bottom of his lungs. He walked in, a great deal slower and uncertain as if the burden on his shoulder was weighting him down. He scanned the viewing area where a small crowd of Berkians were gathering. His gaze caught on the massive figure of his father. Even from the height above, Stoick was a pillar that could not be ignored. His eyes followed Hiccup, and Hiccup awkwardly waved to his father, who nodded back in firm greeting. Hiccup tore away from the viewing stand to peer around at his comrades -- their various weapons ready in hand.

Gobber hobbled to the crank and within a few revolutions, the cage door burst open. Hiccup jumped back not expecting such an outburst. Hookfang towered over them, fire licking upon his gelled skin. A dark cloud of smoke huffed from his nostrils, wafting through the arena. His glowing yellow eyes blazed as bright as his fire.

Hiccup’s mouth unhinged in slow motion. Hookfang resembled nothing of the dragon that melted into a chin scratch just the other day. The teens slammed their palms over their ears at the roar that reverberated off the stone walls. Hiccup nearly jumped out of his skin at the pull of his elbow.

“Hiccup,” Snotlout hissed through gritted teeth, “what’s wrong with my dragon? This isn’t part of the plan!”

Both cousins leapt out of the way as Hookfang barreled right at them -- Snotlout’s screechy yelp embarrassingly loud.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup kept his voice hushed enough that it didn’t carry, “maybe the crowd is spooking him, or maybe us holding weapons?”

It was obvious that Hookfang was extremely agitated, but he hadn’t in the past minute tried to attack any of them with flames or gnashing of teeth. He simply rushed around the arena circle, squawking and panicked.

“Hiccup, what’ll we do?” Astrid asked, having made an appearance on his other side. “If he keeps going like this, we may have to actually fight him.”

Astrid’s resolve to the problem hit like a stone in Hiccup’s stomach. Fighting Hookfang was the last resort and he wanted to give the dragon every chance before it came down to that.

“Let me try.”

Hiccup set his narrow shoulders. His chest contracted deeply as he sucked in and moved forward. Hookfang was slowing his gyration around the arena. Hiccup threw up his hands in a non-threatening fashion, catching Hookfang’s attention. The Nightmare slid to a halt, his pupils narrowed to slits.

“Hey, big guy,” Hiccup ventured, trying to keep his voice low and calm. “You know me. Hiccup. What’s wrong?”

Hookfang’s heated breath huffed over Hiccup causing an instant sweat. Hiccup chanced a step forward. He knew this whole scene was drawing attention to his ‘method of madness’ as Gobber referred to it, but he’d risk it to steer Hookfang back where they needed him to be to play out the choreographed fight.

Hiccup slid another step forward. Hookfang whined, remaining still as Hiccup reached his hand out toward him. As soon as Hiccup touched his jaw, Hookfang snarled out. Before Hiccup even knew what was going on, his back slammed to the floor, knocking the breath out of him. His helmet clattered some distance away.

“Hiccup!” he heard Astrid cry from somewhere around him. His whole view was Hookfang’s glowing eyes and pointy teeth and--

“Stay back!” Hiccup commanded. The sound of feet shuffled toward him stopped in their tracks. “Hookfang, you’re gonna have to trust me. Okay, big guy? Please don’t bite my arm off. I’d hate to lose a limb.”

Hiccup shoved his arm into Hookfang’s mouth, trying his best to not get snagged by the long, protruding teeth. He grabbed hold the loose tooth stabbing into Hookfang’s lower gums and jerked it out in one fluid motion. Hookfang reared backwards, yelping, and then suddenly stopped. He stared at Hiccup, the black slits of his eyes widening. He looked himself again. He wiggled his bottom jaw testing if the pain, he now obviously was in, was gone.

Hiccup knew they couldn’t afford any time to regroup. They had to keep up the charade or get caught. He gave the signal to Hookfang and the dragon proceeded right away into the actions he’d been taught to pretend his way through a fight. Hiccup met Astrid eyes and she knew exactly what to do. The rest of the teens – in their own ragtag way -- followed her lead. In a matter of a couple minutes, Hookfang was being cornered back into his cage. Gobber throw the crank and the cage door shut with a loud bang.

“Yeah! We did it!” Snotlout yelled in Hiccup’s ear as he came barreling against him.

Hiccup nearly lost his footing from his cousin’s impact. He elbowed Snotlout and nodded down to his hand to reveal a tooth as long as his hand and then some. “Looks like a dropped tooth was the culprit. Since he’s your dragon, this belongs to you.”

Snotlout grinned from ear to ear. He gripped the tooth as if it were the greatest prize ever bestowed on the earth. “This is totally going around my neck!” he proclaimed, and Hiccup guessed his cousin meant as a necklace.

Hiccup pitched forward at the breath knocked out of him. He glared at the smirk his wife carried on her lips. He accepted his helmet back from her that just assaulted his stomach. “Best dragon trainer in the Archipelago,” she said, proudly.

Hiccup couldn’t help but smile at her acclaim. His gaze dared to seek his father. Stoick remained planted in his seat, bent over his lap and stroking his beard --appearing more in the manner of a Norse god in contemplative thought than a mortal man of Midgard. Gobber gabbled on at him. Hiccup wondered what the blacksmith was ringing in his father’s ear. Stoick was absorbing it with the utmost seriousness.

Hiccup swallowed hard and his stomach churned uncomfortably at what criticism to expect from his father.

Tags:  @martabm90​ @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e

[roseamongroses]

W.A.L: “Devil’s Food” (23)

s u m m a r y

Eden was the lowest of the low, a monster, hardly human, and was set to be executed. Roman was on trial, perpetually stuck in time until it was time to atone for his families sins.Neither cared much for staying trapped.So when a Stranger offered freedom, offered peace, offered power, it was hard to say no.Even if it put them on the wrong side of history.

v i b e s

time is irrelevent, homophobia who?, magic and beasts, demigods

w a r n i n g s

Imprisonment, Mentions of execution, Blood/ injuries,  Mentions of past Death, repression, cursing, some  dissociation

c h a r a c t e r s

Deceit(Eden) Sanders, Remy Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Emile Picani, Elliot, Kai, Lauren, Dot

Ship: Roceit

1) (2)   (3)  (4) (5)

(6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11)

(12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17)

(18) (19) (20) (21) (22.1) (22.2)

---

“Janus,” Roman slurred his name, half awake and slumped against Deceit.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary by any means, but somehow something was different in a way he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Maybe it was how their sleep-rough voice was so much more vulnerable, the magic laced in his tone more-so an innocent suggestion than a command.

Or perhaps Deceit was drawn to Roman’s blatant display of trust--how his oversized sleeping shirt was carelessly hiked up revealing how Roman’s freckles grew into swirls and smears that shaped his abdomen into something distinctly inhuman--as if the forest had been branded across their skin. Maybe it was the way Roman’s legs pressed into Deceit--skin a never-ending furnace, maybe...

But none of that was new.

And this--whatever this was, clearly was new because--

“Janus, what time is it?” Roman yawned, arching his back before sighing into the comically large pillows again.

Somehow Deceit found it the most distracting thing in the world. Sleeping with Roman had never been suggestive, at least not in any serious way. And even if Roman had gotten into one of his moods, Deceit was pretty comfortable with ignoring any fleeting attraction he felt.

Then again, it was easy to kill desire when you were constantly reminded why you never deserved it to begin with.

“What?” Roman sniffed, sitting up and pulling the blanket around his shoulders.

“It’s near noon,” Deceit answered instead, “The brats have that competition today...” he eyed Roman cautiously as they seemed to nod off, “Are you good for today?”

“‘Mmm good,” Roman nodded, smile sleepy, “I feel really good,”

Deceit leaned against the headboard, “Are you…” he narrowed his eyes, “drunk?”

“Mmm, my Sanders genes are too strong-- can’t get drunk,” Roman said, slinking back into the bed, “But the room... it’s really quiet here… ” he sighed, “Are you sure we can’t stay in?”

“And do what?” Deceit entertained.

Roman looked up through half-lidded eyes, “I have a few ideas,” he purred before bursting out into snickers.

“I’m waking up the brats,” Deceit said, rolling his eyes when Roman whined in protest, “Attempt to be dressed when I get back,” he slid out of the bed, making his way to the door that connected the rooms.

After gently waking up Elliot and not so gently dragging Lauren and Kai out of the bed, Deceit made his way back to their bedroom. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Roman did indeed get dressed. The simple, white turtleneck elaborate, frilly skirt a stark difference to the military blazer, embroidered with gold from the night before.

While Roman messed with his hair, Deceit inspected the different outfits pulled out for him, “Got any preferences?” he asked, picking at a black dress.

At this point Roman had put his hair up into twin-buns, slicking back his edges, , “Maybe a more traditionally feminine shift?” he mused, turning from the mirror to give Deceit a considering look.

Deceit nodded, letting his features soften and round out, but he kept his hard line of muscles. Pushing the longer hair behind his ear, he tugged off his clothes and picked up the dress, quickly realizing the simple dress had a trail of gold laces and buttons trailing it's spine. Not completely intimidated, Deceit unbuttoned it, but upon sliding the dress on, he realized he wouldn’t be able to reach all of the buttons.

Roman caught on to Deceit’s struggle quick, “Let me,” he said, slipping behind Deceit. His hands reached inside the dress, barely skimming Deceit’s skin as he pulled on some ties on the inside and started lacing Deceit up.

“Why are clothes so complicated,” Deceit complained, keeping his face straight.

Roman pulled the dress taunt, “I mean...” his hand rested on Deceit’s waist as he leaned down slightly, breath brushing Deceit’s ear, “It does look so good on you,”

Deceit shivered, “You…” he cleared his throat, “You’ve been teasing a lot this morning.” he said, keeping his voice steady.

Roman immediately pulled his face away, “Is it a problem?” he asked. Even though he didn’t remove his hand, Deceit knew for a fact that all he had to do was ask and it’d be gone. It’d be so easy, so simple, but--

“No,” Deceit said, “I don't mind….I….I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea,”

Deceit could feel them staring, “...Of course,” Roman finally said after a while, starting to button the dress without further question. Still, something about his tone was too gentle. He was too close and yet, Deceit couldn’t push them away.

He could do so easily before, but now…

Deceit distinctly felt his little wants grow into something too strong to ignore.

---

Compared to other wonders found at The Offerings, the room hosting the competition for the younger Apprentices was oddly mundane. It was a disorienting mixture of too-bright fluorescent lights and the squeaking of sneakers.

Kai rushed past the unassuming attendant holding a clipboard, his energy palatable. Elliot followed after, ducking into the bleachers.

Lauren walked behind the two distractedly talking to Roman, “It’s just so boring, why does there need to be an entire chapter about white symbolism,”

Roman followed after, “I don’t--” he stopped abruptly, clipboard blocking his way.

“Only mentors are allowed to enter,” The attendant said, not looking up.

Deceit stiffened, ignoring Roman’s tightening grip, “Excuse me?”

“I said--” The Attendenet looked up and sputtered, wide-eyed, “Uh- You’re the Heir,”

“Yes, yes he is,” Lauren said, eyes narrowed, “Can they come in now? It's starting soon”

The Attendant ignored her, “I’m sorry, sir,“ he didn’t sound sorry, but at least he had the decency to sound afraid, “I still can’t let you in unless you’re a mentor and um… you’re not a mentor. ”

Roman fixed on a polite smile, “Can I ask why?”

“No you can’t--” The attendant froze. Roman wasn’t sure what Deceit did, but it certainly got the attendant to talk, “Uh, sorry it's just-- it’s to prevent councilmen from poaching on each other’s Apprentices-- I really can’t let you in. It ends at 5 though, so you can come back then?” the words rushed out all at once, as they shrunk behind their clipboard.

“Of course,” Roman said, eyes redirecting to Lauren, “Be good.”

“Sure,” Lauren grumbled, making her way to the bleachers.

Seeing that Lauren found Elliot, Roman tugged Deceit along back to the staircase.

“What a shame,” Roman sighed, “I wanted to see if Kai got himself kicked out,”

“I could convince him to let us in,” Deceit said.

“We wouldn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention,” Roman retorted, head conveniently tilted in the direction of a video-only security camera, “Plus, you’re dead, remember?”

“That only means I’d be harder to trace,” Deceit said, contemplatively and Roman laughed.

The two wandered around, peeking into rooms that ranged from sprawling parks to more… intimate spaces. Roman had only vaguely mentioned what he was looking for, but Deceit was content with exploring.

Exploring the shape of Roman’s hand in his, their slender fingers light to the touch and unnaturally smooth. Exploring how their pin-straight posture hardly faltered and how even their most graceless steps still had poise. How in the light their eyes weren’t simply silver, but always had a barely perceptible shifting shimmer of colors. And his lips-- Deceit could never get their lips right.

He could never get Roman right, at least not by himself. It was always evasive, something more ethereal then simply copying the paleness in their eyes and the dimples in their smile.

The one time he’d gotten close was when he was prepping for the Duel. Roman spent most of the night correcting Deceit’s errors until he could replicate every feature with near perfection. He remembered how Roman coaxed his magic into something far too significant for Deceit to even imagine and how this mimicked magic burned deep, an endless coil that was never satisfied.

Roman had been worried about how long Deceit could handle maintaining the illusion, Deceit had been worried if he’d ever wanted to stop.

It hadn’t been the first time he had been lost in the allure of becoming, but this was different. Beforehand, it was a cheap trick The Stranger taught them. A throwaway spell, a stupid game if you will. Switch faces, switch lives, and for a little while, Deceit got to play the prized son, adopted from the streets and raised with love while Eden got to play at being invisible.

Even when those damn vials got involved, it never felt this dangerous. Deceit understood that now. By himself, he could take the shape, he could take it all eventually--the voice, its cadence and accent, how they smile, how they laugh. But Roman’s influence made the illusion real--he made it believable with little corrections that stood as commands themselves.

They worked well together. Too well.

The Stranger had wanted them to be close. That asshole had always wanted Deceit to keep an eye on Roman, to tend to Roman, as if trying to enforce control over something that didn’t need to be controlled. It was too intentional and Deceit didn’t like that one bit.

Deceit would uphold his part of the agreement of course. He’d be The Stranger’s glorified dog, who kneels and growls when told, who lies until there’s nothing left. But that didn’t mean he had to let The Stranger influence his relationship, even if they ended up at the same place in the end.

It scared him a lot; this desire, this love, but what scared him more was the prospect of it no longer being his to choose.

---

Roman had found the library with a few hours to spare before the competition ended. He had wandered away from Janus after awhile, scanning titles in the Foreign Language section with a critical gaze.

He’d been trying to work out Janus’s accent for a while now. Sure he could just ask, but Roman liked the thrill of investigation and he loved the thrill of being right.

Right now he figured that Janus had lived in Italy for a little while-- seeing as whenever they spoke Spanish it was always just a little off in either vocabulary or how they pronounced words. Roman also suspected a few others like Romanian and German, but right now he was looking into Slavic languages.

He spotted a set of translation books near the top shelf and pulled up a chair--and when that wasn’t enough, he stacked another chair on top of that chair. He wasn’t short but compared to other Drak’on’s you could argue he was stunted. Still, even with his heels and the chairs the bookshelves in this library were freakishly big.

Roman briefly considered untucking his shirt so his wings could help out, but before that could be a thing he stumbled trying to catch the book while simultaneously forgetting to keep his balance. However, before Roman hit the ground two steady hands caught his waist.

“Can’t I leave you alone for two minutes?” Janus murmured, raising an eyebrow.

Roman grinned sheepish, leaning back against their chest, “It isn’t recommended,” he said half dazed. “You can…” Roman squirmed in their grip, “You can let me go now,”

“I’ll consider it,”.

“What do you mean you’ll--” Roman squawked as Janus scooped him up, “Janus,” Roman pouted, “Lemme goo-,”

“I thought you liked being carried?” Janus mused, making his way down the aisle.

“I…” Roman slumped defeated, “Shut up,” he groaned, pointedly watching the carpet as Janus carried them past the rows and rows of books to a smaller alcove nestled in the back. Upon seeing the stack of books already there, Roman squirmed out of Janus’s shoulder falling into the pile of pillows, “Aw you picked out my favorites,”

Janus settled next to Roman, “You gave me a list,” he said, dry.

Roman thumbed the spine of Alice in Wonderland, “You follow directions wonderfully,” he shrugged, “Did you see anything you liked?”

“I don’t read for fun,”

Roman blew out his cheeks, “I never said it had to be a book,” he huffed, leaning against Janus’s shoulder, “There’s plenty of stuff around here, I’m sure you could find something for a souvenir,”

Janus frowned, “....Souvenir?” he echoed.

Roman paused, briefly confused before realization hit, “A keepsake, memento if you will,” he tried to articulate, “Something... physical to remember this place.” Janus nodded in understanding, “So did you have anything in mind…?”

For a split second, Janus’s face was unbearably soft before it smoothed into hardened resolve, “I do,” he said, vaguely, but before Roman could question them further, he had grasped Roman’s chin, drawing their full attention, “Kiss me?”

Roman’s mind short-circuited, “What…” he frowned, “ Can you what?”

“I want to kiss you,” Janus said slowly, “Is that okay?”

“Yes…” Roman stuttered, “Of course it is, but…” he didn’t want to ask, but he had to, “Would it just be a one-time thing? I’d still care about you, but I don’t think I could..it’d be…”

Too much.

Janus’s answer was to close the distance.

The kiss was tentative-- brief, but terribly gentle, “I want this,” he promised, brushing a stray curl from Roman’s face, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I want you, I enjoy being with you. I wouldn’t play with that.”

“Then…” Roman bit his lip, ”Why now?” he asked, voice small, “I thought you couldn’t…”

“I’m not used to being wanted,” Janus admitted, and Roman looked up startled, “And when I was wanted it never meant something good, it still doesn’t, but...” he sighed, “Before….It was easy. I could walk away from everything and not have any reason to go back, but,” He blushed, “I can’t walk away now and I certainly can’t pretend everything I feel is platonic I just...I want to choose you. Again and again and again.”

Roman didn’t say anything for a while.

Roman’s face was one of quiet contemplation that slowly melted into a cat-like satisfaction as he leaned in close, fingers hooking into the top of Janus’s dress as he pulled him into a kiss. He kissed Janus like the world was going to end and Janus returned the favor, letting the burning wrap around him, not caring if they ever let go.

And when Roman finally did, breathing heavy with smudged lipstick and ruddy cheeks, Janus kissed him again. And again. And again. And again.

[whiskynottea]

An Interruption in the 1st Law of Thermodynamics. 

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27,  Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35,  Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44,  Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48 

AO3

This chapter is co-written with @theministerskat, who has also made the banner, knows every little corner of Ann Arbor and has been on this ride as my beta almost from the very beginning! Love you, Kat! ❤️

Also, I want to say a huge thank you to all of you for still being here, loving these two goobers and their story!

Chapter 49. Midnight

Michigan. Jamie’s dorm. His new life.

I drew a heart into the condensation that had accumulated on the window overnight. Through the bold, clear lines of my doodle, I could see the fresh layer of snow that had fallen in the early hours of the morning, blanketing the city in white. It was like a clean canvas, impatiently awaiting an artist to make the first stroke.

Like our lives. Everything felt new, and yet familiar at the same time. I didn’t know this place, or the future that awaited us; but I knew him, and myself, and I felt that was enough.

Jamie began stirring in the small bed across the room, and I turned to see him reach a hand out from under the covers, searching for me. I felt my heart constrict at the amount of love that instantaneously engulfed me.

My sweet, ridiculous Scot.

The floor was cold under my feet as I padded back over to the bed and crawled in next to him. I wedged myself into the crook of his arm, trying to steal as much body heat from him as possible.

“Good morning, Sassenach,” he whispered when I finally settled in. He kissed my forehead without opening his eyes, and I could feel the smile playing on his lips as they lingered between my brows.

“Good morning, yourself. I’m cold,” I purred. “Warm me?”

A sigh of contentment escaped him as his other arm came around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to his body, my living furnace. I felt my own body relax and melt into his, and allowed myself to enjoy a quiet moment with him after so many months apart.

To just be, together.

“What are our plans for today?” I mumbled into his chest after a few minutes.

He didn’t answer right away, and I looked up to make sure he hadn’t fallen back asleep.

As if he were answering my unspoken question, his hand roamed up from my waist and back down, fingertips gracefully gliding over the bare skin of my back. When he reached the swell of my buttocks, he took a firm grip and pulled my hips tight against his.

He was most definitely awake.

His head tilted down slowly towards mine, placing a lingering kiss on my lips before moving to the spot behind my ear.

“Plans?” he whispered between light bites on my ear lobe and kisses just beneath there. “My only plan is to keep ye locked in this room for the rest of yer visit.”

I moaned in response to that suggestion, and felt his reaction to my noises, but just a bit further down.

Trying to not to let him distract me too much, I pushed him a bit more for an answer. “Knowing you, Jamie Fraser, you most certainly have plans for us.”

“Aye, ye’re right. I do.” Another kiss, and then a lick across my collar bone that sent a shiver through me. “But for right now, my only plan is to make ye whimper.” And before I could process what was happening, he dove beneath the covers.

It would never be enough.

--

We eventually untangled ourselves from the sheets of Jamie’s bed around noon, realizing that if we didn’t actually put some effort into getting up, we would stay there forever.

I wanted to see Ann Arbor; it was the city that had enchanted Jamie from the moment he had arrived. I longed to see the things that were a part of his every day, and spend time in his favorite spots.

It was a selfish desire on my part. I wanted to create memories with him so he would still be able to feel my presence wherever he went when I couldn’t be there. I wanted to talk to him on the phone and know exactly what he was seeing, not just imagine the place as a vague picture with fuzzy lines. I wanted Jamie to walk down a street and think of me, how we strolled there together, how he laughed at my jokes.

Stupid, egocentric, overwhelming love. I didn’t want him to forget me.

“Where to first?” I asked as we pushed our way through the front doors of his dorm.

“This way,” he said as he took my mittened hand in his, “I have something special I want to show ye, Sassenach.”

It took us 15 minutes to reach the iron gates of the Nichols Arboretum.

“The locals simply call it The Arb, but I’ve only come here a few times,” Jamie said, letting go of my hand for a moment to pull his beanie back down over his ears. The red curls falling across his forehead were speckled with little snowflakes. “But every time I’m here, I think of you.”

“Only when you’re here?” I asked with a sly smile.

“Always,” he hastened to remedy, “Always! But even more when I’m here. It may sound dumb, but it reminds me of our walks through the parks back in the Edinburgh. Reminds me of home.”

He dropped my hand again and moved a few, wide strides ahead.

I didn’t follow immediately, but turned and took in the bit of wilderness around me, in awe that such a place could exist within a city. It was gorgeous, and the snow covered trees and paths glittered as the sun poked its way through a break in the clouds.

As I completed my circle, a white bomb hit me square in the chest and exploded. I gasped through the cold wetness and wiped at my face.

“But there is never so much snow in Edinburgh!” he said, laughing. He actually dared to laugh.

“You’ll pay for that, Jamie Fraser.” I sneered and ran to him, ready to inflict my revenge on him in any way I could. I tried, with no success, to pull him down into the snow. Before I could realize how, he managed to wrestle me into the air and I ended up with my head against his back, while he fondled my ass, conveniently set upon his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I exclaimed, pounding my fists against his back. He carried me as if I were as light as a feather.

My response released another fit of laughter from him. “Oh I did miss you, my Sassenach,” he murmured, his hand still groping at my butt.

“Me or my arse?” I asked, actually curious.

“Both. I didna ken I could have one and not the other.” He pinched me lightly, then advised me to stop moving before we both fell.

I stopped, and he let me slide down him, slowly, never losing control. His eyes were glinting with happiness and a few unshed tears of joy when I looked at him, standing flush to his body.

When we resumed our walk a few minutes later, I noticed the wooden edges of flowerbeds left to hibernate over the winter. “I guess it will be heavenly here in the spring,” I said, trying to imagine all the colours dancing around me.

“Ah, was it a bad idea to come here?” Jamie asked self-consciously, looking at me with a frown. “It’s only bare trees and snow now, would ye like to go somewhere else, Sassenach?”

I gave him my warmest smile, squeezing his hand. “It’s wonderful, Jamie. It’s so quiet and calm. Everything white, so pure.” I pulled him to me and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I love it.”

Jamie let out a breath, content with himself. “I thought ye would. And there is a river further down!”

He walked in silence, as we had done countless times before, in a life miles away, in a time that felt like years ago.

We neared a lonely wooden bench that was situated under a tree, with thick bark and wide branches.

“I was thinking…” Jamie started, then trailed off. He glanced at the bench, then back to me. “We had our bench on Calton Hill.” He tipped his head in the direction he thought Edinburgh was, although I had no idea which way east was either. “I thought we could have our bench here, as well. Since I’ll be here for--”

I didn’t let him finish his thought. My lips accepted all the love he offered, all the little ways he cherished what we had. I strained to keep the tears from falling, thinking of all the means by which he had already linked this place with me, even before I had set foot here. I showed him my giddy smile though, realizing how stupid I had been, thinking that he’d come to forget me.

He sat down and pulled me onto his lap, and we watched stray snowflakes fall, looking at each other every few moments, trying to take in our new way of life. When I started shivering, Jamie motioned for me to stand, and we resumed our walk.

“Cold already,” he said and shook his head disapprovingly. “I had told ye that first day,” he stopped, and gave me a small smile, “That ye’re a blue-nosed Sassenach.”

I laughed, thinking of the day I discovered how warm Jamie’s hands always were. “Mmmm, you did.”

“I had gone back home and spent the rest of the night thinking if you might have taken offense. But then, you’d given me yer number, so it couldna been that bad.”

“No, not that bad,” I agreed, feeling the warmth of his hand through my gloves. “Not bad at all.”

We followed a path along the river, and when my limbs became sufficiently cold to complain about, Jamie agreed to go to a coffee shop for a little break.

He suggested at least ten different options with great coffee and tea, but we settled for the one closest to central campus, that he frequented every morning before class. On our way there, Jamie greeted several students that passed by us, and I started wondering just how popular he had become here, and in such a small amount of time. It seemed that the tall, redheaded Scot had made quite an impression.

Jamie told me all about the swim team as we neared our destination. He went on about their training, the new coach and the facilities at the university. Everything had surpassed his expectations. He was enraptured, and I felt my heart swell for him. He had made the best choice, and I took a little pride in the fact that I had helped him do so.

“When will I meet John?” I asked when he finally stopped to take a breath from his rambling.

Jamie hesitated for a moment as he held the door open to corner coffee shop for me, but finally continued once we took our spot in line.

“He texted me this morning, Sassenach. Hector is having a party at his place tonight, and John asked if we wanted to go.” He looked at me, uncharacteristically indecisive. “I would rather have ye all to myself, but I don’t think I’ll be able to, now.”

“We could go,” I shrugged. “We’ve had all day to ourselves, and it’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow.” Jamie made a sad face, and I pulled him down to me for a kiss. “We still have plenty of time! Plus, I want to meet John.”

“Aye, he wants to meet ye, too. Even though I dinna ken whether the combination of the two of ye will turn out well for me.”

I snorted and looked at him cunningly. “Maybe I’ll make him tell me your secrets.” I wiggled my eyebrows and he laughed.

“I think ye already ken all my secrets, mo chridhe,” he whispered in my ear and pulled me closer. The older women behind us coughed loudly just as our lips met again, and we apologized, stepping up to the counter to order.

We sat at a table near the wide glass windows, looking out at the street. I felt warmth finally seeping into my body, and with the hot coffee between my hands, the tall Scot sitting across from me, I couldn’t hold my smile back.

We talked about Edinburgh, about Jenny and Ian who were trying to persuade Brian into producing cider as well, and of Rupert and Angus, who had returned to Edinburgh and started a shop fixing bikes, in a forgotten basement close to the city centre. We talked about Oxford, and about my next visit before more obligations would start on my part. It felt wonderful, talking to him again, feeling his hand holding mine, reaching out and touching him. So simple. So perfect.

After several refills we were ready to face the cold again, and left the small cafe. Jamie had a whole list of things we could do, but our late start to the day severely limited our options now.

“We could browse the art museum for a bit. It’d be warm in there,” he suggested as he tightened the scarf around my neck.

“I’d like that,” I told him and we set off.

The museum itself was small in comparison to others, but still held a number of intriguing installations that we found ourselves discussing quietly. Belatedly, we realized that we’d never perused a museum together, and agreed on visiting more of the collections in the following days. On our way out, I noticed a display advertising the museum’s African art gallery and made a mental note to make sure we made it to that one.

The sun had already set when we left the museum and both of our stomachs had begun rumbling for food. After grabbing a quick bite to eat at the student union, Jamie texted John asking for Hector’s address.

“What kind of party will this be, exactly?” I asked while we waited for John’s reply.

“What d’ye mean, Sassenach?”

“Do we need to dress up?” I raised an eyebrow, then raised my arms, indicating that my huge, puffy coat may not be proper party attire.

“Och, no.” Jamie shrugged. “I dinna think it will be anything fancy.” In an instant his arm was around my waist, pulling me to him. “Ye’re beautiful, babe,” his said in a most sincere, mellow voice. “So beautiful that I’m thinking of texting John we willna make it.”

I smiled against his lips and took them in mine.

Later that night, nestled between Jamie’s body and the arm of Hector’s sofa, I closed my eyes, listening to the soft notes of the guitar. It was dreamy.

“D’ye like it, Sassenach?” I heard Jamie’s whisper, his arm pulling me closer to him.

“Mmmm… I envy John.”

That startled him, and he moved back to look at me. “Why on earth would you envy John?”

“Well…” I chuckled. “Hector is tall, handsome, kind, clever, with his own apartment, and he plays the guitar. Isn’t that obvious?” Jamie made a sound I couldn’t characterize, but I was sure it wasn’t amusement. “What?”

“Nothing,” he murmured, turning his eyes away.

“Hey,” I crooned and pinched his side. “Are you really jealous of Hector?”

“I’m not jealous!” he exclaimed a bit louder than he meant to be, and John scowled at us, his gaze leaving Hector for the first time since his boyfriend had started playing.

“Oh, come here, you…” I paused, grinning, but Jamie didn’t look at me. “Chippy Scot!” I finished, bringing my hand around his neck, and lowering his face to me until I could capture his lips in mine.

I didn’t pay attention to the rest of the song. When Jamie pulled back to look at me again, he had a crooked smile on his face.

“So, ye like me more?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes.

“I love you, stupid--” I didn’t get to finish my sentence, his teeth taking hold of my bottom lip.

Hector continued strumming soft tunes on his guitar, now with John sitting next to him, when Jamie’s eyes went wide with panic.

“Where is your coat?” he asked, springing from the couch.

“In a room, somewhere.” I looked at him puzzled, unable to understand what had gotten into him all of a sudden.

A minute later he was back, with our coats, scarves and gloves in his arms. We said a hasty goodnight to the rest of the group and took our leave, Jamie practically dragging me out onto the street.

“Jamie, what’s going on? What’s the matter?” The cold felt like an attack on my body, and I struggled as I tried to put on my gloves, while fixing my scarf tighter around my neck.

“What time is it, Sassenach?”

“What? What does it-”

“Claire! The time!”

Giving up hope of getting words out of him that made any sense, I dug into the pocket of my coat for my phone. I held it up to my face and the screen lit immediately.

“It’s 11:48. Why does it matter? Will your carriage turn into a pumpkin come midnight?” He chuckled at my stupid joke, but took my free hand in his and led me down the snowy walkway.

“Aye, I’ll make sure I leave my glass slipper behind.” I looked down at his long feet, laughing at the notion of Jamie in slippers. “Come on,” he said, tugging at my hand. “It’s a ten-minute walk in the best conditions. We have to hurry.”

And with no more explanation than that, he began walking, pulling me along behind him as I nearly ran to keep up with his long strides.

Even properly secured against the wind the night air was cold against my cheeks, and I knew they’d be a deep pink by the time we got to where we were going.Jamie didn’t slow his pace, but he kept glancing back to me to make sure I was alright, a large sly smile spreading wide across his face.

After what seemed like the longest street block in history, Jamie turned and I saw the coffee shop from that afternoon on the corner. He kept moving towards an archway ahead of us, and I knew it led into the diagonal yard he had shown me on my tour of the campus earlier in the day.

Unsure where exactly we were going, I was surprised when Jamie suddenly stopped in the middle of the archway. Not expecting such a sudden halt, I crashed into the back of him and felt my feet go out from underneath me on a rogue patch of ice.

I braced myself for impact with the pavement, but Jamie caught me before I went down. He held tight to my arms as I steadied myself and I glared up at him.

“What in God’s name is going on, Jamie Fraser? Why the sudden rush out into the cold?”

“What time is it?”

I glowered at him, but didn’t protest this time and looked to my phone once again.

“11:57.” The smile I had seen on his face during our walk reappeared, this time even bigger.

“This is the West Hall Engineering Arch.” He raised his hands and gestured to the brick archway all around us. “It was built in 1904. A long time ago, the female students lived way up in that direction,” he pointed towards one end of the arch, “And the men lived down here on central campus.”

He closed the distance between us, hands coming to a rest on my hips.

“After a date, the lasses and laddies,” I giggled at his put on heavy Scots accent, but he ignored me and continued, “Would part ways for the night right here and say their goodbyes. Legend has it, that if ye kiss someone at midnight under this arch, ye’ll marry ‘em. So, Sassenach, I’ll ask ye once more, what time is it?”

My brained stopped. My pulse quickened and I felt my heart flutter as I looked down to my phone a final time.

“Midnight,” I whispered, but his lips were on mine before I could get the entire word out.

Chapter 50

[leggigoesabroad]

free rent living in my mind

Lyrical title, and all future lyrical blog titles from now until forever, will be from Taylor Swift’s LOVER which was released August 23rd and has already drastically improved my already great life.  It’s 18 songs of perfection and we aren’t worthy.  Rolling Stone and Vanity Fair have called it a career-capping masterpiece.  God this bitch just continues to show us that she’s the only person who ever matters and good lord I’d kill a man for her if she asked me to.

In the meantime, weeeeeeeeeee’re back!  Well, I am back, because I’m in Alaska and honestly that’s practically abroad.  It’s so far from everything except Canada and Russia and other parts of Alaska and life here is wild and so different and thus, Leggi has gone abroad again.  Currently sitting on my bed in my plush robe in my Veranda Suite, looking out into the seafoam green water of Endicott Arm and its little bits of glacier floating by.  Which I learned today were called “bergy bits,” isn’t that the most made up “technical term” you’ve ever heard?!  Someone was definitely sipping wine on a boat a while ago and saw some ice float by and said “lol look at those little iceberg pieces… those little…. ‘bergy bits!!!!!!!”

This journey begins a full week ago but I’ve literally been either gone all day, not had internet, or been too sleepy to even fathom blogging.  And yet I have so much to say and so much that I want to remember that I just MUST document it all, especially considering I’ll be back in June 2021 on a member trip with my company and two years is a long time to remember minutia.  I’m here on a site visit on the Seabourn Sojourn to experience the cruise firsthand, try out all of the shore excursions and visit tons of different vendors and partners, and make note of all details so I can answer all questions when we ultimately plan, sell, and execute this trip.  Or as I like to say, “someone’s gotta make sure it’s good enough, right?!”  One takeaway from this site visit is that it’s equal parts incredible and I’m pinching myself, and also at times I want to die and I’ve been close to full fledged panic attacks.  Don’t worry, we’ll get into all of it!! Probably in several different entries to keep attention span up.

We started by flying to Vancouver early Monday morning, August 19th.  After dropping bags at the hotel we immediately set off to do detailed site inspections of three hotels in the area (when we come back for the member trip we need a block of ~250 rooms so it’s no small feat) and then visited three different possible event venues for a welcome event the night our members arrive.  The first was called Grouse Mountain Resorts which is about a 20-minute drive to a gondola that takes you up to Grouse Mountain, a beautiful resort area overlooking all of Vancouver.  The area has so much to do once you’re up there – a ropes course, lumberjack show, bear sanctuary, massive chalet with dining options, etc.  We look for things that I never would have thought of or noticed before, especially when paying attention to the demographic of our members and also the realistic logistics of moving a group of about 450 people around.  Things like, “will members really want to come up the gondola after a long travel day and eat at the chalet, only to have to walk down a quarter mile path to do the lumberjack show? Which place will include tables and chairs so we don’t have to rent? What will keep their attention while also feeling special and unique to the area? How long is the walk from the bus to the gondola for people with mobility issues? What if someone wants to go back to the hotel early, how long will they have to wait? Will there be enough for kids to do?” On and on.  It’s pretty interesting, especially because I’m traveling with three people who have done tons of member trips and know exactly what works and what doesn’t.  Since I’ll be referencing them a lot, the three coworkers are Brooke (mostly in charge of the entire Once in a Lifetime Journeys team, travels over a third of the year doing site visits and member trips, not overly pleasant but I’m starting to wear her down), Ryan (other Journeys team member who will be Brooke’s co-manager on this cruise, we get along super well and he’s the one who encouraged me to apply for this Alaska trip, also fucking hilarious), and Nick (member services account manager like me who recently got promoted to be 50/50 for member services/journeys team and is my co-trip lead and also really great to be around.)  Brooke and Nick have done a bunch of member cruises before but it’s a first for me and Ryan so it’s been a good balance.  There’s also Yolanda, our Seabourn shore excursions expert/partner, who Nick and Brooke know well from previous cruises.  She’s originally from South Africa but lives in Holland and is honestly a goddamn nut.  Sometimes we love her deeply and sometimes we’re like YOLANDA WE CANNOT WITH YOU RIGHT NOW OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD.  More on that later as well. 

We spent Monday night in Vancouver doing the site inspections and then had a lovely, long dinner on the water with our Seabourn partners.  Wine like, FLOWED.  On Tuesday morning we went to the Capilano Suspension Bridge to do a site inspection for that as a possibility as a daytime activity for members before boarding the ship. I remembered being there a loooong time ago on our Vancouver trip as a kid (I want to say… 1999?  Mom, keep me honest) and I thought “wow, the bridge looked so much bigger when I was a kid!  This is nothing now!” Famous last words.  Got about halfway across and started panicking and couldn’t look down and told myself to just put one foot in front of another until I made it across.  That was all well and good, until you get across and realize the only way back IS ALSO THE BRIDGE.  As Hilary said upon reflecting on it when I told the family this, “I remember thinking, ‘there’s no way that’s the only possible way back.”  Sure is, sure is.  Ultimately after visiting the Capilano area, Grouse Mountain, the Vancouver Aquarium, and Science World (my personal favorite but got hardcore nixed…) we think we’re going to try to rent out Capilano for the evening and include food and drink and guided tours all around the park as our welcome event, and then just give members the morning at leisure.  We’ll see, all of that work comes AFTER the site visit, and I can’t think about After the Site Visit right now because I’ll cry because this ship is now my home and I refuse to leave.

On Tuesday morning, we went on the ship early while they were still turning it over from the departing guests and getting ready for all of us to board later.  We did a full tour and got to see all the different categories of suites available, because it’ll be important for us to know all the details when advertising and selling the trip.  Let me just tell you, this ship is fuggin dope.  To me, it’s a perfect size – about 225 cabins (not including crew) so it’s big enough that it doesn’t feel like a small little boutique liner, but small enough that you don’t get any of the creepy mass Carnival cruise line heebie jeebies and feel trapped on a skyscraper at sea.  It’s been a week and I already feel like I know everyone.  I keep joking that I’m the mayor of the ship and honestly it’s not ALL in my head, I’m very popular around here.  You’ll notice that theme running throughout these blogs, so consider yourselves warned.  It also helps that we are among the youngest people on the ship, as you could have guessed – I’d say about 60% of the population is in their 60s or above, and the remainder are spready through 50s/40s/30s.  There’s literally ONE child aboard, a little 3-year old boy that we are all obsessed with.  He wears bowties and suits to the formal dinners and little nautical themed clothing all other times, and carries his slinkie around everywhere wanting to play.  Nick said at lunch today “he’s 100% my favorite person on the ship.”

We finally officially boarded the ship around 4 pm on Tuesday and it was honestly so exciting.  I felt like a celebrity, especially because the entire staff knows that we are here for a site visit and I think has probably been told to pay us special attention.  The captain, his officers, the maitre’d, the sommelier, the hotel manager, the hospitality director, the executive chef, the Alaskan Ventures director, the cruise director (Jan who we despise, more on her later), all have specially introduced themselves to us and have greeted us by name since the first day.  I know the crew and staff all have manifests before we board with our names and pictures, but I’m honestly still floored at how impressive their memories are.  On the first night, I ordered a double vodka soda with extra lime and a splash of cranberry juice from the head bartender.  Three nights later, I hadn’t seen him since, I walked in and he made that exact same drink for me and just put it in front of me.  What the fuck?!?! The captain’s staff captain passes by me daily and says “Ms. Rice, hope you had a lovely evening!” I was like “sorry who are you?!”  I always fancied myself good at names and faces and now I’ve learned that perhaps a decade of marijuana usage has turned me into a trash brained human who has no special skills anymore.  TBD.

We spent the next day at sea, which I’ll pick up in the next bloggy bit (inspiration drawn from bergy bits.)

[prettywordsyouleft]

Becoming Human - Final Chapter

Previous Chapters:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

_________________________

“Welcome to KBoys Cyborg Call Centre, you’re speaking with Yerin, how may I help you today?”

“I really need some help please!” the caller cried and I waited for further information. “My Sungjae just stopped midway through uh, lover mode.”

“Isn’t that the worst,” I sympathised, trying to not let my mind flash back to my own experience with that. “Customer, on page two hundred and thirty-nine there is exact troubleshooting advice for this situation. But I know now is not the time for that, and I see you haven’t tried resetting his button on his neck yet. Could you please hold down the button for me for ten seconds? It will let me know if that has solved the problem or not. Please tell me if he responds again.”

Some things never changed.

After being thanked for my help, the call disconnected and I answered four more before needing to take a bathroom break. I remembered back to the time when I had been so worked up by the customer who went back to her lover on the phone and how disgusted I had been at the time. This time I laughed, at least she was having fun.

It wasn’t easy, but life had found it’s routine again. I had discovered that bottling it all up hadn’t helped me in the past, and finally opening up about how I felt to my friends meant they were able to support me. It didn’t ease the heartache, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore. I had found my smile again, and my heart was slowly healing.

The event had gone amazingly well and Leo was even published on the cover of Time Magazine for his endeavours. From the last update I had, he was in Paris and wouldn’t be back until next week. I just hoped he wasn’t working himself to the bone again now that he was back to travelling the world.

Heading into the cafeteria to collect some bottles of water Younha had asked for when I left my desk, I froze when I saw the familiar person sitting at the same table he had done twice now. If I wasn’t so stunned, I was certain it would have amused me with how this room seemed to house so many repeated memories.

Leo’s gaze widened with my arrival as well, which was different than in the past. I bowed lightly in greeting, not wanting to stare for too long. He wasn’t remembering who I was and I felt guilty for being the only one privy to the thoughts.

“Yerin-noona.”

“Yes, Leo?” I responded, opening the refrigerator door so I could hide my blush behind it.

“Have you been well?”

“Uh, well enough. And you, not overworking too much are you?”

He chuckled. “They won’t let me burn out like last time, you don’t have to worry.”

I couldn’t respond, my hand pausing on grabbing another bottle of water.

“Does it frustrate you that I don’t remember?” he continued and I dropped what I had in my grasp, my eyes faltering as I watched the bottles roll over the floor. I swallowed roughly as the tears sprung to my eyes and I willed myself to simply turn and walk out of the room. But my legs weren’t listening, keeping me stuck with cool air circulating over my face from the refrigerator, and hoping he would talk some more. I was my own worst enemy, really.

The encounters Leo and I had had since that moment months ago were short and intended to be that way. Mostly because I would run away before they had the chance to get any deeper than they needed to, the unaired apology from that night still between us. I didn’t want to get into the past; it was difficult enough to live in the present.

I felt a hand on my arm then, Leo pulling me away from the refrigerator and closing the door to stop the beeping. He stared at me for an immeasurable moment before blinking rapidly, letting go of my arm and whatever that had begun to reside in his eyes.

I turned to collect the bottles off the floor.

“It frustrated me endlessly, you know. Why I would feel like there was something, no someone missing all this time. How I would find myself coming to this room often, even though it’s not a part of my department. How I would long to cook for someone when I don’t need to eat. No matter how much I tried to find a trace of who you were to me, it would never show up.” His hand slipped into his pocket and retrieved something I had completely forgotten about. He held it up, clicking to show the wallpaper of his mobile phone. It was the photo of me with the flowers and I gasped. “How I have this. It’s full of photos of you and me, and numbers that belong to all my friends and colleagues. Yet the number I called the most was labelled my love. And if it were to ring-”

He pressed call and my phone started vibrating in my pant’s pocket. Leo tilted his head to the side. “It calls you.”

“Stop, please.”

“I wasn’t stupid, I knew there was some love life I had once with you, and it hurt watching you struggle with the knowledge when I had nothing to offer you back but some curious questions from what I had discovered. For your sake, since I couldn’t be who you needed back then, I turned you away. I’m sorry about that.”

Shaking my head as the tears began to fall, I backed away. “I need you to listen to me and stop. I can’t Leo, I just can’t.”

Forgetting about the water I spun to walk passed him until his arms were firmly wrapped around my waist, pulling me back into his body. My heart raced and I shook with the intensity of my emotions.

“It wasn’t until Gunhee recently in Paris asked about the extra chip I had requested and if I figured out what I was storing on it. I had no idea I even had one. That night I unlocked it. Of course, I would be the type to want to protect us like that in case anything ever went wrong.”

His lips pressed into my neck gently and I was frozen. Why hadn’t I ever thought about that chip I had been told about before they repaired him?

“It was pretty overwhelming but it felt right. I mean why else would I have dreamed of you all this time unknowingly. So I got on the first plane home and waited in here for you, hoping you’d eventually come in and find me.”

“Wait,” I said, spinning around in his arms and stared up at him. “You mean you’ve known for how long?”

“Well a flight from Paris to Seoul is around eleven hours, and I had to wait five hours to get on the flight. It took three hours for you to find me, and I’ve spent all that time going over everything so, about that long.”

“You’ve sat here for three hours?” I repeated and he nodded. “Knowing that I loved you all this time and you made me wait three hours?!”

“Oh it’s as deep as love, I haven’t gotten that far into my memories,” Leo mentioned with a thoughtful gaze, my cheeks reddening before he chuckled at my naivety, pulling me into his arms more tightly. “I missed you. I missed you even when I didn’t know what I was missing.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m sorry I left you alone all this time.”

“You won’t leave me alone again, will you?” I asked tentatively and Leo kissed my head.

“I have weekly check-ups on my health that Doctor Jung has insisted upon since it happened. And next time I travel, I’m taking you with me. I can’t believe I never did in the past. Leaving you behind each time almost killed me.”

“Overworking almost killed you,” I corrected, giving him a look. Leo winced lightly.

“I’m not working as hard as I was, and I actually requested a holiday.”

“Oh, did you?”

“I told them since I make so much money for the company; they could give me a month off. They agreed.”

“Well, not everyone has that luxury, someone still has to pay the bills,” I sighed and Leo grinned.

“Well I mean, the company owes me so much and they can’t really pay me in money since I don’t have a bank account so I told them to pay you.”

“What?!”

“Also, Doctor Jung gave me this when I got here.” He left my side to grab something he had over on the table, holding out the paper to me. It was a certificate, and I glanced up at Leo’s smiling face. He pointed to where it said my name on it. “Finally, you own me.”

“You’re mine?”

“Haven’t I always been?” he asked, leaning in to kiss me and I struggled to keep a hold of the certificate, his lips moving actively with months’ worth of passion. Although I didn’t need to have some piece of paper to tell me what my heart felt, it made it all feel that much more real kissing him and not letting it go.

Leo finally remembered me. He wasn’t just out there existing anymore, he was back, he was kissing me and he still loved me as much as I did him. And I owned him. It was worth all the heartache to get to this point again. I knew it wouldn’t ever be easy loving Leo. We had faced so much before, and we would ahead of us too. But with his lips on mine, I knew I would find my way through.

Because he was mine.

When he pulled away, I gazed up at him lovingly and hugged him. “So where are we going on vacation to?”

“I really like this place I haven’t been to in forever.”

“Nami Island?”

He shook his head. “Home. I plan to spend it there cooking.”

“What?! Why?”

“Because we’re going to be testing out if robots can eat. I offered to be the test run subject since it passed all their other tests.”

“Leo! This isn’t a holiday at all!”

“I can’t think of anything better, being able to eat, sleep, and breathe you in. It’s the perfect holiday. Besides I have so many things to ask you about.”

I groaned, gripping at the ownership certificate and wondering if I should return it already. “Like what?”

“Whether you believe you could marry someone made with artificial intelligence or not. It’s being discussed by Parliament next week.”

“What?”

“That way I get to own you too,” he told me, smiling devilishly.

“Are you proposing to me? You just got your memories back, how can you be at ease this quickly?!”

Leo’s smile faded, and he ran his hand through my hair. “Because it’s you. It always has been and it always will. Memories or not, I’ll come back to you every time. I love you, Yerin.”

“Yes,” I huffed and Leo shook his head laughing.

“I wasn’t proposing to you just yet but at least I know what the answer will be.”

“We need new house rules. I feel like this is the start all over again, you’re already driving me insane.”

“How about we ditch those and make bed rules. How we don’t leave it unless we’re hungry or you need the bathroom. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Glancing around the cafeteria and only realising how public this all was for the first time, I covered his mouth, his laughter vibrating into my hand.

Owning a Kboy like Leo was hard but someone had to do it.

And he had chosen me.

_________________________

A/N: Welp. It’s time to say goodbye to Leo and Yerin, and the Kboys too. I’ve really had a blast writing this story, and it’s incredibly special to me, because it’s the first one I’ve written and completed since suffering from my writers block. 

I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read Becoming Human, who have left comments along the way, who have invested their opinions on this whole world of robots and shaped it into how it’s ended. 

Part of me is quite sad to say goodbye that I’ve even considered a small sequel later on at some point. Maybe! But until then, the curtain is closing on this world.

Again, thank you immensely for all your support! Xxx

Becoming Human Masterlist | Fiction Masterlist | Request Guidelines

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

31st March >> Mass Readings (USA)

Fourth Sunday of Lent, Cycle C - Proper Readings

(see also The Man Born Blind)

(Liturgical Colour: Rose or Violet)

First Reading

Joshua 5:9a, 10–12

The people of God entered the promised land and there kept the Passover.

The Lord said to Joshua, “Today I have removed the reproach of Egypt from you.”

While the Israelites were encamped at Gilgal on the plains of Jericho, they celebrated the Passover on the evening of the fourteenth of the month. On the day after the Passover, they ate of the produce of the land in the form of unleavened cakes and parched grain. On that same day after the Passover, on which they ate of the produce of the land, the manna ceased. No longer was there manna for the Israelites, who that year ate of the yield of the land of Canaan.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 34:2–3, 4–5, 6–7

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

I will bless the Lord at all times;

his praise shall be ever in my mouth.

Let my soul glory in the Lord;

the lowly will hear me and be glad.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

Glorify the Lord with me,

let us together extol his name.

I sought the Lord, and he answered me

and delivered me from all my fears.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

Look to him that you may be radiant with joy,

and your faces may not blush with shame.

When the poor one called out, the Lord heard,

and from all his distress he saved him.

R/ Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.

Second Reading

2 Corinthians 5:17–21

God reconciled us to himself through Christ.

Brothers and sisters: Whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come. And all this is from God, who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting their trespasses against them and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation. So we are ambassadors for Christ, as if God were appealing through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. For our sake he made him to be sin who did not know sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation

Luke 15:18

I will get up and go to my Father and shall say to him:

Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you.

Gospel

Luke 15:1–3, 11–32

Your brother was dead and has come to life again.

Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain, saying, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So to them Jesus addressed this parable: “A man had two sons, and the younger son said to his father, ‘Father give me the share of your estate that should come to me.’ So the father divided the property between them. After a few days, the younger son collected all his belongings and set off to a distant country where he squandered his inheritance on a life of dissipation. When he had freely spent everything, a severe famine struck that country, and he found himself in dire need. So he hired himself out to one of the local citizens who sent him to his farm to tend the swine. And he longed to eat his fill of the pods on which the swine fed, but nobody gave him any. Coming to his senses he thought, ‘How many of my father’s hired workers have more than enough food to eat, but here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father and I shall say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son; treat me as you would treat one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went back to his father. While he was still a long way off, his father caught sight of him, and was filled with compassion. He ran to his son, embraced him and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you; I no longer deserve to be called your son.’ But his father ordered his servants, ‘Quickly bring the finest robe and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. Take the fattened calf and slaughter it. Then let us celebrate with a feast, because this son of mine was dead, and has come to life again; he was lost, and has been found.’ Then the celebration began. Now the older son had been out in the field and, on his way back, as he neared the house, he heard the sound of music and dancing. He called one of the servants and asked what this might mean. The servant said to him, ‘Your brother has returned and your father has slaughtered the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ He became angry, and when he refused to enter the house, his father came out and pleaded with him. He said to his father in reply, ‘Look, all these years I served you and not once did I disobey your orders; yet you never gave me even a young goat to feast on with my friends. But when your son returns who swallowed up your property with prostitutes, for him you slaughter the fattened calf.’ He said to him, ‘My son, you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found.’”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ.

————————

Fourth Sunday of Lent - The Man Born Blind 

(Liturgical Colour: Rose or Violet)

First Reading

1 Samuel 16:1b, 6–7, 10–13a

David is anointed as king of Israel.

The Lord said to Samuel: “Fill your horn with oil, and be on your way. I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen my king from among his sons.”

As Jesse and his sons came to the sacrifice, Samuel looked at Eliab and thought, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is here before him.” But the Lord said to Samuel: “Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature, because I have rejected him. Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the Lord looks into the heart.” In the same way Jesse presented seven sons before Samuel, but Samuel said to Jesse, “The Lord has not chosen any one of these.” Then Samuel asked Jesse, “Are these all the sons you have?” Jesse replied, “There is still the youngest, who is tending the sheep.” Samuel said to Jesse, “Send for him; we will not begin the sacrificial banquet until he arrives here.” Jesse sent and had the young man brought to them. He was ruddy, a youth handsome to behold and making a splendid appearance. The Lord said, “There—anoint him, for this is the one!” Then Samuel, with the horn of oil in hand, anointed David in the presence of his brothers; and from that day on, the spirit of the Lord rushed upon David.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 23:1–3a, 3b–4, 5, 6

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

In verdant pastures he gives me repose;

beside restful waters he leads me;

he refreshes my soul.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

He guides me in right paths

for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk in the dark valley

I fear no evil; for you are at my side

with your rod and your staff

that give me courage.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

You spread the table before me

in the sight of my foes;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Only goodness and kindness follow me

all the days of my life;

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

for years to come.

R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.

Second Reading

Ephesians 5:8–14

Arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.

Brothers and sisters: You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth. Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness; rather expose them, for it is shameful even to mention the things done by them in secret; but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore, it says: “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation

John 8:12

I am the light of the world, says the Lord;

whoever follows me will have the light of life.

Either:

Gospel

John 9:1–41

The man who was blind went off and washed himself and came back able to see.

As Jesus passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him. We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes, and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam”—which means Sent—. So he went and washed, and came back able to see.

His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said, “Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.” He said, “I am.” So they said to him, “How were your eyes opened?” He replied, “The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes and told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went there and washed and was able to see.” And they said to him, “Where is he?” He said, “I don’t know.”

They brought the one who was once blind to the Pharisees. Now Jesus had made clay and opened his eyes on a sabbath. So then the Pharisees also asked him how he was able to see. He said to them, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and now I can see.” So some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, because he does not keep the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a sinful man do such signs?” And there was a division among them. So they said to the blind man again, “What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.”

Now the Jews did not believe that he had been blind and gained his sight until they summoned the parents of the one who had gained his sight. They asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How does he now see?” His parents answered and said, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. We do not know how he sees now, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him, he is of age; he can speak for himself.” His parents said this because they were afraid of the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone acknowledged him as the Christ, he would be expelled from the synagogue. For this reason his parents said, “He is of age; question him.”

So a second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give God the praise! We know that this man is a sinner.” He replied, “If he is a sinner, I do not know. One thing I do know is that I was blind and now I see.” So they said to him, “What did he do to you? How did he open your eyes?” He answered them, “I told you already and you did not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?” They ridiculed him and said, “You are that man’s disciple; we are disciples of Moses! We know that God spoke to Moses, but we do not know where this one is from.” The man answered and said to them, “This is what is so amazing, that you do not know where he is from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but if one is devout and does his will, he listens to him. It is unheard of that anyone ever opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he would not be able to do anything.” They answered and said to him, “You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?” Then they threw him out.

When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, he found him and said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered and said, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” He said, “I do believe, Lord,” and he worshiped him. Then Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment, so that those who do not see might see, and those who do see might become blind.”

Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard this and said to him, “Surely we are not also blind, are we?” Jesus said to them, “If you were blind, you would have no sin; but now you are saying, ‘We see,’ so your sin remains.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

Alternative Gospel

John 9:1, 6–9, 13–17, 34–38

The man who was blind went off and washed himself and came back able to see.

As Jesus passed by he saw a man blind from birth. He spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes, and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam”—which means Sent—. So he went and washed, and came back able to see.

His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said, “Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.” He said, “I am.”

They brought the one who was once blind to the Pharisees. Now Jesus had made clay and opened his eyes on a sabbath. So then the Pharisees also asked him how he was able to see. He said to them, “He put clay on my eyes, and I washed, and now I can see.” So some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God, because he does not keep the sabbath.” But others said, “How can a sinful man do such signs?” And there was a division among them. So they said to the blind man again, “What do you have to say about him, since he opened your eyes?” He said, “He is a prophet.”

They answered and said to him, “You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?” Then they threw him out.

When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, he found him and said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered and said, “Who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.” He said, “I do believe, Lord,” and he worshiped him.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ.

[lostinthe-pines-blog]

Beginnings: CH 1 - Zack

This is a set of stories about the past and events that brought everyones Hartfeld favorites together. Once all parts have been told I hope to incorporate them into a slightly altered storyline about the Hartfeld gang. Though I will not get to far ahead of myself.  This first story brings us into Zack’s past his upbringing and his coming out. Some names have been changed to fit with in my story line.

All character rights belong to PixelBerry and their Choices stories The Freshman, The Sophomore, The Junior and The Senior.  TAG LIST: ( this is a tag list from all of my pervious Freshman related fics. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed) 

@jared2612  @katurrade @annekebbphotography @emerald-bijou @jellybean-marshmellow @jollybouquetangel

Luck as the Dictionary defines it is… “a success or failure apparently brought on by chance rather than through one’s own actions.” The biggest oversight in that definition is that luck is not just about success it can also be your failures. You can actually be lucky to fail at something. The most popular metaphor for failing is “When one door closes, another one opens.” But maybe lucky failure isn’t just striving to move on to the next adventure to find success. Being lucky in your failures could also mean that you’ve dodged a bullet or overcome a challenge. Zackary had seemed to fail at the most popular success in the world. Zackary had failed at love or at least the societal norm of what love had to be. But his great failure surly would become his even greater success.

Zackary was born on Feburary 28th 1994 and would only have been a few hours away from being a leap year baby had the year called for it. His mother often said that the light of the sunset cast the most beautiful haze into the room. She believed that the first glace at the world he’d had was lit so beautifully that the vibrant sun casting on him gave him his creamy light tan eyes that shined like the that same sunset every evening. He had a mess of dark hair already forming it’s curls, curls his mother would continue to love for the rest of her life, though that wouldn’t be long.

Febuary 28th 1994 also brought an interesting issue into the world that would allow Zackary’s quiet and reserved uncle to comfortably follow his passion. The “Don’t ask, Don’t tell” act was signed in by President Bill Clinton on this same day and it would unknowingly effect Zackary’s life for many years to come.

Kameron Burton and his twin sister Katie Burton were inseparable all their lives. The pair being born in 1971 we’re raised in a changing world. But their family would not be changed, at least not according to their father. Kameron was raised in a world of sports, muscle, discipline, and knowledge. His sister Katie was raised in fabrics, cleaning supplies and overly modest dresses for the time. A family plummeting into the 1970’s was living as if they were in the early 1950’s. In 1984 their controlling father passed away. And while the twins- now 13 years old- grieved at the funeral they knew that their world would only be easier after this day. 

As puberty took over their changing adolescence the twins began to experience a new kind of human connection. At 15 Katie Burton had her first kiss on the steps of her childhood home and threw the window her jealous brother watched. Katie had been asked out by Cory Burrows a Junior and a centerline man for the states winning High School football team. Cory was Kameron’s idol and not just because he was the football success story that Kameron strived to be. He idolized him because deep down in his growing body and mind he felt something for him. And on this night watching his other half kiss him he felt a strong jealousy. And while that night brought joy to Katie it also brought revelation.

Katie walked in the front door the smeared pink gloss on her lips matching the natural blush of her cheeks. She saw her brother near the window and knew instantly that he’d been watching. Katie had suspicions about her brother but was never going to confront him about them. What she believed him to be was frowned upon by the world around her and she feared that asking him would destroy their life long friendship. 

“Are you being a peeping tom?” Katie giggled walking toward her startled brother. 

“Of course not.” He replied flatly leaving no excuse as to why he was standing near the window that only moments before looked upon his sisters first taste of societal womanhood. “But how was it?” he asked hoping to share the feeling with his petite brunette sister. 

Katie’s already vibrant pink blush now formed from cheek to cheek as she hid her emotions placing both hands over her face and smiling wider that ever before. After taking a moment for herself she shoved her brothers shoulders sitting him down on the couch and began to gush about the events of the evening. She shared what a gentleman Cory had been and how much she liked him. As she continued to talk about him she watched as her brothers face fell with out his own knowledge.

 “What’s wrong Kam?” Katie questioned grabbing his hand in hers in the same way they had as children after taking a beating from their father. 

Kamerons eyes began to wander to the ground as he grip on to the reality of what he was feeling. He’d been thinking about this for years but had never vocalized it, not even alone to himself. It was safe in his head, it was in a place where the world couldn’t hurt him. But he wanted to let it out so badly it choked him, it held him down it taunted him and it needed to be broken free. “I uhhh..” he spoke softly not sure how to speak anymore 

“Kam? You can tell me anything, we are twins, every piece of you is a piece of me too.” She did her best to reassure the shaking teen a cross from her. 

“I think… I’m jealous. I’m jealous of you…” he trails again hoping she would understand that it wasn’t her popularity or looks that he was jealous of, it was merely that she could love Cory and be praised for it. 

“Jealous of.. me and Cory.” She offered the correct response quietly “You like him don’t you? Kam.. are you gay?” she finally asked the questioned she’d feared asking for years.

 Kameron didn’t respond verbally he nodded as he felt his tears break out of his eyes, his hands shaking and his heart breaking. She’d guessed it and while he thought he’d be happy to have someone else know, this secret was no longer safe in his head. Katie and Kameron did not speak another word to each other that night. His tears trickled down her cotton shirt as he fell asleep on her lap as they had so often throughout their childhood. When their mother came home and found the two of them asleep on each other on the couch it was a sight that was not foreign to her. 

After that night Kameron and Katie would not talk about this again, the years passed and Kameron focused on his athletics setting his own personal goals throughout high school, and even college. While he began to succeed physically Katie was succeeding emotionally. At 21 years old Kameron was approached by a sweaty and nervous dark-haired boy who was simply asking to marry Katie. Martin Dalton had met Katie in college at Hartfeld University and fell hard and fast. While the scrawny man was not what Kameron had envisioned his sister would end up with he knew how deeply she loved him so he agreed and less than a year later the pair of them married. Which brought them to this night, a night where Kameron sealed his future and Katie welcomed hers into the world. 

“Today in Washington President Clinton officially signed in the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy barring military personnel from discriminating or harassing closeted homosexual and bisexual service members and applicants.” The sounds of the late-night news hosts caught Kameron’s attention in the busy Hospital lobby. This movement was supposed to be ground breaking for it’s time, but it was just endorsing silent discrimination and mental self-abuse. But it had the 23-year-old Burton boy hooked. He’d been looking for something that would give him a purpose and though he’d not addressed the fears of his sexually in almost 10 years he thought at least now he could still join the military without fear. Had his emotional brother in-law not interrupted the rest of the news cast Kameron may have even left that night to join. But for now, he pulled his attention to Martin as he smiled at him. 

“Do you want to meet your nephew?” Martin asked with the happiest tone in his voice.

 Kameron didn’t think twice before following his now brother down the hall a smile glued on his face. Martin lead him to the viewing window in the NICU where the curly hair brunette boy instantly stood out to him. He looked exactly like his mother and father which only slightly disappointed Kameron who held the same curly hair but his own locks were thick and blonde. 

“Have you given him a name yet?” Kameron questions politely 

“We are leaning toward Kevin, you know another K…” Martin begins before Kameron stops him quickly. 

“No… Kevin was my father’s name.” he pauses “I know Katie loves that man but he was not a good man, we don’t need another K in this family.” Kameron explains.

 “Oh, I had no idea” Martin admits “Katie never speaks of her father…”

 “Well now you do, what about Zackary?” Kameron offers his choice of name. 

“You know, I don’t hate it” Martin laughs, “I’ll ask Katie her thoughts…” 

Kameron spent the next long hours of the evening going through Katie’s rolodex of numbers and calling everyone he knew was important informing them that she had indeed brought a healthy baby boy into the world. Around 4 AM as he began to doze off in the hard lobby chair, he was awoken again by Martin whose eyes were sinking into blackness as tiredness consumed him.

 “Katie is asking for you.” He spoke quickly, “I have to run back home, we forgot almost everything would you mind looking after her for me?” 

“Of course, Martin, maybe get a few hours of sleep while you’re there.” Kameron suggestion patting his skinny shoulder and heading to the private room Katie had been assigned too. 

“Mr. Burton” Katie spoke as she saw her twin walking through the door.

 “Mrs. Dalton” Kameron offered in response still reasonably bothered that the two of them no longer shared a last name. 

“Did you meet Zackary?” Katie spoke not even knowing that Kameron had indeed been the one to name him after all. Not wanting to pick a fight over the naming of her own child Kameron decided to stay silent and only smile to himself out of pride for creating the last mark on the baby boy who was now laying in the room with his mother.

 “Only through a glass window, but I think we truly connected.” Kameron laughed pulling a chair next to his sisters’ bed and taking her hand. “He’s beautiful Katie.” 

“Thank you” she spoke squeezing his hand tight. “Katie, I need to tell you something.” Kameron said thinking again about what he’d heard on the news “I’m going to join the military, I don’t know where to begin truly but I need to belong somewhere and I think it’s the perfect fit for me right now.” ask he explained her grasp on his hand got tighter and tighter. 

“Don’t ask, don’t tell…” Katie finally whispered making direct eye contact with her brother now. And though her eyes were tired and weak from the hours of physical stress before this moment they got their point across. She’d stayed silent since ’86 when he’d told her his secret but she wasn’t a fool. She’d hear the radio only hours ago and she knew why he was going. Kameron nodded in response, his sister had kept his secret just as safe as when it was only in his head. And it would stay between them until it was again only in his head.

In spring of 2009 Kameron received a phone call at his station in Southern California with the Marines at Camp Pendleton. Kameron would receive now the worst news that life had ever brought him. His other half, his rock and his protector had died. Katie Burton Dalton had been killed in an accident cause by a drunk driver. She left behind her loving husband and her 14-year-old son Zackary. Kameron left the base quickly and went to his distraught family in northern Connecticut. The time for mourning for him lasted far too long and Kameron was shortly deployed to Afghanistan without second thought in the late summer where he stayed for two years before President Obama sent his troops home.

What he didn’t know was the growing boy he had named was failing, failing to fit comfortably into the societal norms just as his uncle before him. But this time there was no Katie to keep his head above water.

In August of 2011 Zackary joined his grandmother at the airport in welcoming home their last connection to the light of Katie. Zack held a sign at the exit of the airport terminal. He’s always been drawn to Uncle Kam, he was never sure why but he longed to believe it was because of his mother. The reuniting of family was tearful just as it had been when he left. But the world was different now and Kameron would have to adapt. Just a month before, President Obama had signed another important document revoking the harmful attitude of 1994’s Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Just like the night in front of the curtain watching his sister Kameron now at 40 years old needed felt himself suffocating from the inside out. 

Martin Dalton had remarried only a year after Katie’s passing bringing a stepmother into the picture and though Zackary resented her, she was nothing but kind and good to him in return. He would never call her mom only Lisa and he would forever question his father’s judge of character for moving on so quickly. But with the return of his uncle he could now escape the drama of his home. Every Saturday he would dine with Uncle Kam but as the year turned to 2012 and Zackary prepared for his final year in high school he longed to breathe clearly and he needed to tell someone his failure. He’d decided it had to be Kameron, he was one of the few people left who would respond the same as Zack’s caring mother.

Zack had suggested that instead of going out for Dinner they could have a picnic with mom. Morbid as it may have seemed he wanted the essence of his mother there for this moment. Kameron met the boy at the cemetery that afternoon and Zack didn’t take long to get his point across.      

 “Uncle Kam, I’ve failed” he began feeling guilty for the natural order of his body “I tried to ask Lauren to prom but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t to go to prom with Lauren” he continues to explain feeling his chest swell unknowingly causing a similar feeling in the uncle a crossed from him. “I wanted to go to prom with someone else, but I can’t. I can’t go to prom with them because it’s wrong and I know it’s wrong” his mumbling continued before he finally built the courage to say it. “Kam, I’m gay. I didn’t want to go to prom with Lauren because I wanted to go to prom with her brother Marcus. I didn’t want to kiss Natasha under the mistletoe last Christmas because I could see Jason standing 10 feet away and I knew I wanted it to be him instead.” He rambled as tears began to fall, because the secret was no longer in his head, it was with his uncle.       

Kameron took the boys hands in his own and said the words he never gave Katie the chance too. “Thank you for trusting me with a secret that I know can only feel safe with you, safe in your head. You have not failed, you have only begun to succeed.” He spoke quietly feeling the same tears from those many years before fill his eyes. “When I was 15 years old, I stole a glance at your mother's first kiss… and I was jealous. Cory was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen and I couldn’t handle the fact that my twin sister got to have him.” Kameron continued to pour his soul to his nephew tell him of all the times he wanted to scream his failures at the top of his lungs and how badly he wanted to make them a success. To show society that being different that being gay was no failure and if it was, it was the luckiest failure there could be.    

Zackary and Kam began to dine together more than once a week and Kameron even moved closer to them to be there in support of Zackary. In the spring of his senior year Zack sat down with his father the patient and wise man who’d raised him with a loving heart. Kameron sat crossed the room promising to remain silent unless things went wrong. Zack had never been so filled with fear in his life. His secret would not exist with 3 people, and the thought excited him and scared him.        

“Dad, I need to tell you something and I don’t know how.” Zack began feeling his breath tighten, though his socially awkward father didn’t catch it.      

Martin with a smile on his face assumed the discussion was about something else. “Zack is this about your letter from Hartfeld?” he asks quickly derailing Zack entirely.        

“What?” he asks confused eyeing his uncle in the corner        

“I’ll take that as a no…” Martin trailed “You received a letter from Hartfeld this afternoon, and a pretty thick one which can only mean one thing.”        

“I got in.” Zack whispered allowing the conversation to stray from the more important “I got in!” Zack cheered almost forgetting why he was there before his kind father brought him back.        

“Wait, but if it wasn’t Hartfeld what do you need to tell me?” he questioned now noticing the nerves of his only child.        

“I uh, I…” Zack choked “I’m…” he couldn’t manage, his father was to excited about Hartfeld he couldn’t ruin this night. What if the reaction was negative, what if after tonight he didn’t speak to his father for months. Could he unknowingly become an orphan by only revealing three words? ‘I am gay… Dad I’m gay, I’m gay’ he screamed in his head but it wouldn’t transfer to his vocal chords.        

“Zack…” his father began sensing fear between them, a sense he’d felt ever since he’d remarried. “You are your mother’s son” he laughed to himself before leaning forward to look directly in the beautiful eyes the sun had given his child. “She never wanted to throw off the balance of life, she never wanted to harm a soul with her words. And while your mother was absolutely perfect, be even better than her. Speak up son.” He ordered with the kindest tone he could hoping to pass on some amount of courage.        

“I’m gay.” Zack blurted not even sure if he’d actually said it. He closed his eyes quickly for the fear of what his father would do. He hid the sunset of his soul so not to look upon another failure. He stayed in silence for what felt like hours but was really only seconds until he heard words he didn’t expect.        

“I know.” Marvin began as he watched his son open his eyes again in surprise. “I mean I assumed.” He corrects himself “I’m glad all those years of college worked because I can still make a decent hypothesis.” He winks before changing the tone eyeing his brother in law in the corner while still speaking to his son. Revealing for the first time that Katie had shared Kameron’s secret with the only other person she trusted. “You look just like your mother and I’m thankful for that every day. But I think you inherited a trait from your uncle that is far more encompassing than your looks.” Martin spoke softly watching the eyes of his son and brother meet. “Neither of you have anything to be ashamed of.” He spoke more clearly now, “my dear son all your life the love you have given had been your strongest attribute and the world is lucky now to know your honesty. The world will be lucky to have your open love. Do I wish this world were different, absolutely? Do I fear for you because if this, yes? But I can see it in you now, your head is above water… finally.” Less then a second after his finishes speaking his son has wrapped his arms around him where the two of them stay for several minutes.        

“Zackary, why don’t you go get that letter and we make this night an even bigger success.” Kameron asked hoping to get his own moment alone with Martin.        

“Yes!” Zack jumped up quickly running toward the kitchen where the mail was always placed.        

Once alone Kameron stood before Martin and though his body stood strong his mind was weak.        

“You knew…” Kameron started        

“Yes.” Martin responded shortly        

“When.” Kameron questioned trying to to be angry with his sister.        

“1994, when I openly shamed the military for their actions. At the time I believed closeted or not military should not allow ‘beasts’ like that into their ranks” Martin laughed at the evils of his past. “Your sister came to bat for you, and she hit a home run. She changed the game for me. You see all my life until then I’d never crossed paths – to my knowledge- with a gay man. I had assumptions that they were all dirty vile beings. And I have never been more wrong.” 

“You’ve known for 18 years…” Kameron trailed trying to map out every interaction he’d had with Martin since 1994.        

“She told me it was a secret, and that you would have her killed for telling it.” Martin chuckled with Kameron in return “She told me that you were the greatest person in her life and that if I could not come to accept every piece of you and every piece of whatever life you chose to lead than I was not welcome in hers. Harsh words from the person you love most in the world. So I began to watch you” Martin admits embarrassed. “By 2003 I was sold, I believe that next to your sister you were the kindest human in my sons life. That fall I taught a 10 week seminar at Hartfeld where I met multiple students who embraced the  culture I’d spent so long hating” he explains avoiding words he knew he should be comfortable referencing “Those 10 weeks were some of the greatest I’d ever had, every student taught me something new about myself and the prejudice I’d been living with. That Halloween I began my hypothesis of my son and the change of myself. That year Zackary was determined to go as Hermione Granger for Halloween and I was so scared of that idea that I silenced him and forced him into Harry Potter glasses instead.” Martin can only laugh at his mistakes now. “You can hold your secret as long as you want to Kameron, it will always be safe with me. But if my 18-year-old son get to breathe after all those years, it’s time you do too.”        

The exchange between the non-blood related brothers is cut short as Zack enters reading his acceptance letter loud and proud. 

“Welcome to Hartfeld! It is with great enthusiasm that I write to congratulate you on your admission to the Hartfeld class of 2019!” the rest of the evening is spent together celebrating this major success. And even though Zack resented who she was in his life his step mother Lisa joined them in their laughter and excitement. Zack would finally feel he had a family he didn’t want to leave as his time began to dwindle he was determined to make the most of it all before the fall came.

[giftofshewbread]

Time is Almost up, This is All That Matters

: by Alice Childs   Published on: May 26, 2021

“The night is far spent, the day [Day of the Lord] is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light” (Romans 13:12). All scripture KJV.

There is not much time left. We who have been followers of our Lord Jesus Christ and watchers of Bible prophecy know that we are in the very final seconds before the Church Age ends. With everything in us, many of us who are part of God’s Remnant Church all across this world have been watching, praying, pleading and warning with greater and greater passion, urgency, and intensity “as we see the day approaching” (Hebrews 10:25).

There is not anything left to say that hasn’t already been said time and time again. Indeed, our warnings have been shouted from the rooftops, as it were, with greater and greater urgency. The only thing left to say is still the most important thing that can ever be said, and that is the only vital message that has ever been given to fallen man. That message is that mankind is a hopeless and helpless sinner who needs a perfect and righteous Savior.

You see, it is not any particular sin or another that leads one to Hell. There is only one sin that leads a soul to eternal damnation in an eternal Hell, eternally separated from God, and that sin is the sin of rejecting Jesus Christ and His free pardon.

Jesus is the only One who paid in full the infinite penalty for mankind’s sin debt. The only One who could save lost and fallen man, who was “condemned already” and under the “curse of sin,” was God the Son who wrapped Himself in human flesh to become the one and only God/Man, being both fully God and fully man.

Only He was qualified, able, and willing to “become sin” by bearing within Himself the sins of the entire world so that all – anyone who is willing to believe upon Him alone – all who are willing to place their faith and trust in His perfect life, His death on the cross in our place, His burial, and in His bodily resurrection on the third day may, upon their belief, have the righteousness of Christ imputed, transferred, upon them. That all who believe according to the scriptures may be instantly justified, declared “not guilty” just as if they had never sinned, eternally sealed and secured “in Christ” by the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit.

“For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

“In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation: in whom also after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory” (Ephesians 1:13-14).

This is the only message that matters, that has ever mattered, and the only message that ever will matter. This message is more important now than ever before because time is running out. The Age of Grace is rapidly coming to an end, and the dreadful, terrible Day of the Lord’s wrath and vengeance is almost upon this God-hating world. We are right there.

There are only two kinds of sinners:

(1) We who are wretched sinners saved by the grace of the Almighty, all-loving, all-merciful God the Father through God the Son, Jesus.

(2) Then there are the wretched lost, still unbelieving sinners who have thus far rejected – who continue to reject the only means of salvation because they refuse to place their faith and trust in Jesus Christ alone. Each of us is in one or the other of those two categories. One is either a sinner saved by grace, or one is a sinner, lost unredeemed, and headed straight for an eternal Hell because he or she refuses to believe the gospel of salvation according to the scriptures.

In which category are you?

Time is almost up. Judgment is coming. In fact, the foreshocks of the coming Tribulation have already begun. Any moment now, the believing Remnant Church, God’s true church, the bride of Christ, will be snatched away from this earth to meet our Lord in the air. This event will mark the end of the Church Age. It will usher in the time of the end – the final seven years of mankind’s history. That countdown will commence with the confirmation of a covenant between an as yet unrevealed global leader and Israel.

Once the Church is gone, nothing will ever be the same again. This is the message that we believers have been pleading with weeping hearts for you to hear and believe.

Please do not wait any longer. The Bible tells us that “today is the day of salvation.”

“(For he saith, I have heard thee in a time accepted, And in the day of salvation have I succoured thee: behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation)” (2 Corinthians 6:2).

Oh please, please do not continue to harden your heart or turn a deaf ear, or mock those who truly care about the eternal destiny of your immortal soul!

The great evangelist George Whitefield, minister of the Great Awakening during the 1700s, said this: “You blame me for weeping, but how can I help it when you will not weep for yourselves though your immortal souls are on the verge of destruction.”

Dear Reader, I dare not make any presumptions that all who come to this site or read the articles penned here are saved. Only God knows the hearts of those whom He sends to this site. If you are reading this article and you have never called upon the name of Jesus to save you, then let me assure you on the authority of God’s Word that you are not here by accident. If you have found yourself here on this site reading this or any other article published here, it is because the God who “so loved the world” has sent you here and placed these words into your path so that you may hear, perhaps for the first time, or perhaps for the last time, the gospel of salvation.

“For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it” (Isaiah 55:10-11).

So as I close, let me do so by once more giving to you as plainly and as plaintively as I know how, the gospel. This is what you must believe to be saved. This is what you must believe in order to change your eternal destiny from Hell to Heaven. First, you must understand and accept the truth that you are a sinner. You’re not a sinner because you commit sins; you commit sins because you are a sinner. It is what you are inherently. The Bible says that to be saved, one must:

(1) Understand and acknowledge that you are a sinner hopelessly and helplessly lost, cut asunder from God by the “curse” of sin under which all mankind is conceived, and that as such, you are condemned to Hell because of it.

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

“As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one: There is none that understandeth, There is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; There is none that doeth good, no, not one” (Romans 3:10-12).

Here is the bad news that must be accepted and acknowledged.

“For the wages [the eternal penalty] of sin is death [spiritual death, eternally separated from God in Hell]; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 6:23).

(2) Understand and acknowledge that you cannot do, say, or ever become able to save yourself. You cannot save yourself because even the very best you can do will always “fall short” of the glory of God.

“But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags; and we all do fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away” (Isaiah 64:6).

“For by grace [alone] are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: not of works [one’s own merits or efforts], lest any man should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

(3) Salvation comes only through Jesus Christ, according to the scriptures.

“Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).

(4) This is what you must believe to be saved:

“Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand; by which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; and that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:1-4).

(5) Finally, call upon the Lord.

“For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Romans 10:13).

This is the gospel of eternal salvation, which Jesus fully paid for and which He freely offers as a gift to “whosoever will” believe in Him.

“And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:21).

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God” (John 3:16-21).

With all my heart, I implore you, if you have not already done so, come to the cross. It was there that God the Son, in human form, stretched out His hands, nailed to a cross of His own free will and volition. And because He loved us so, He hung on a cross suspended between heaven and earth and took upon Himself the sins of the whole world, thereby offering a free pardon of sin to all who are willing to believe [place their faith and trust in] and call upon Him for salvation. Please, please do not delay. Come to the Savior now before it is eternally too late.

“Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment have I received of my Father” (John 10:17-18).

I plead with you, come to salvation now. Time is almost up, and this is all that matters.

[rinnnyxr]

I LOVE…

Books. The outdoors. Clothes shopping. Finding good deals. Bike riding. Animals, especially cats. Exploring new places. Antiquing. Thrift shopping. Film photography. When someone takes me someplace new. Stargazing. Spending hours reading a book. Learning new languages, or just hearing them spoken. The Victorian era. Hot-tubbing. Trading music with friends. Going on hikes. Swimming in rivers/creeks/lakes/the ocean as opposed to swimming pools.

I DISLIKE… Hot and very humid weather. Driving in heavy, slow traffic. People who don’t realize how their actions affect others. Selfishness. When pets have “accidents” in the house. Bumper stickers like “Country Girl” or “Silly boys, trucks are for girls!” Politics in general. Feeling like I’m not in control of anything. People who treat everything I say as a joke. People who claim to be my friend and treat me badly. Twitter fights. Warm beer. Doing the dishes. Thistles. Feeling hopeless. That panic moment when I have no idea what I’m going to do for the rest of my life. How people still text and drive. Being broke. Not having a job.

SHOWS I LOVE… Doctor Who Breaking Bad Supernatural Pretty Little Liars True Blood Game of Thrones Top Gear UK Parks & Recreation The Office The Walking Dead

I WOULD LOVE TO VISIT… Iceland England Italy Montreal Marseilles The Alps Yellowstone National Park Machu Picchu Greece Ireland and Scotland

THINGS I’M NOT GOOD AT… Making big decisions. Making myself motivated. Exercising/working out. Dealing with hot weather. Controlling my temper in traffic. Keeping a regular “schedule” for chores. Not worrying about silly things. Tolerating other peoples’ irritating behaviors. Having a positive outlook on things that might turn out badly. Keeping friends. Sleeping in. Training pets to mind me. Managing my time. Mathematics. Makeup or other “beauty” related skills. Dealing with other peoples’ children. Being “politically correct.” Ignoring insults and not letting stupid things get to me. Being content.

GOALS THIS NEXT YEAR… Become physically fit. Get better grades in school. Find a better job. Start saving money again. Travel somewhere completely new. Make more/new friends. Spend less time with technology and more time outdoors/doing something productive. Start drawing/painting regularly again. Pick up a new hobby.

-

Bold all the things you've done: 1) You've gone skydiving. 2) You've kissed someone. 3) You've gone on a road trip. 4) You've gone streaking. 5) You've stayed up all night to watch the sun rise. 6) You've been on a roller-coaster. 7) You've been snorkeling. 8) You've been scuba-diving. 9) You've learned to play an instrument. 10) You've learned to speak another language. 11) You've fallen in love. 12) You've done something charitable. 13) You've purchased a physical CD and/or record. 14) You've been to Disneyland and/or Disney World. 15) You've been to a different country. 16) You've had a pet. 17) You've seen your favorite band/artist perform live. 18) You've done something crazy to your hair. 19) You've slept on a beach. 20) You've seen the Northern Lights.

21) You've wished upon a shooting star. 22) You've observed a solar eclipse. 23) You've learned something crazy and/or awesome about your family's history. 24) You've ordered everything on the menu at an amazing restaurant. 25) You've eaten at the best restaurant in the world. 26) You've met your idol. 27) You've made the news. 28) You've run a marathon. 29) You've learned how to ride a bike. 30) You've learned how to water-ski. 31) You've climbed a mountain. 32) You've thrown an amazing party. 33) You've gone skinny-dipping. 34) You've been to a protest/rally. 35) You've voted. 36) You've lived on your own. 37) You've assembled IKEA furniture on your own successfully. 38) You've been to prom. 39) You've been on a safari. 40) You've been to the Grand Canyon.

41) You've been camping. 42) You've cooked an entire meal, including dessert. 43) You've achieved closure with an ex. 44) You've spent a paycheck on something frivolous for yourself. 45) You've stayed at a fancy hotel. 46) You've been to a fancy spa. 47) You've spent all day in bed, just because. 48) You've scored your dream job. 49) You've ridden a horse. 50) You've played hooky from work and/or school.

51) You've been to The Metropolitan Museum of Art. 52) You've seen an opera. 53) You've seen a ballet. 54) You've been to a Broadway show. 55) You've learned how to drive a car. 56) You've tried sushi. 57) You've swam in the ocean. 58) You've driven across the country. 59) You've traveled solo. 60) You've traveled with friends. 61) You've learned how to play a sport well. 62) You've learned how to dance. 63) You've been to all 50 states. 64) You've been to the Eiffel Tower. 65) You've been to the Great Wall of China. 66) You've tried a really fancy wine. 67) You've written a book. 68) You've written a screenplay. 69) You've been to a religious ceremony not of your faith. 70) You've crashed a party.

71) You've been in a wedding. 72) You've attended a black-tie affair. 73) You've been in a band. 74) You've visited the white house. 75) You've read a book in one sitting. 76) You've set a Guinness World Record. 77) You've communicated with someone who doesn't speak the same language as you. 78) You've been to North America. 79) You've been to South America. 80) You've been to Asia.

81) You've been to Australia. 82) You've been to Africa. 83) You've been to Europe. 84) You've been to Antarctica. 85) You've won a contest. 86) You've run for some sort of leadership position. 87) You've been on TV. 88) You've been skiing. 89) You've been surfing. 90) You've been ice skating. 91) You've had a surprise party. 92) You've cultivated a hobby. 93) You've made a best friend. 94) You've had your 15 minutes of fame. 95) You've climbed a tree. 96) You've been in a hot air balloon. 97) You've won an award. 98) You've given a speech. 99) You've learned to swim. 100) You've been rollerskating. 101) You've gotten a tattoo. 102) You've tried a food you were nervous to eat. 103) You've told someone you love them. 104) You've gotten lost somewhere on purpose. 105) You've been on a game show. 106) You've hooked up with someone "famous". 107) You've been mistaken for a celebrity. 108) You've gambled in Las Vegas. 109) You've made a religious pilgrimage. 110) You've hooked up with someone outside your age range.

111) You've gotten drunk. 112) You've gotten high. 113) You've made a bucket list. 114) You've felt alive. 115) You've lived your life to the fullest.

-

I’m not afraid to admit that I’m a geek. The last video game I played was Guitar Hero.

Something has been bothering me a lot lately.

A lot of thoughts occupy my mind at the same time. i don’t know if I’ll ever be satisfied with my body. Seth Rogen movies really aren’t as funny as people say they are.

I LOVE homemade pizza.

I’m currently looking for some people to start a band with.

My relationship with my dad is very strained.

I don’t understand why people have such a problem with kids. I’ve stood next to a famous landmark. I wish my bedroom had more space in it. A friend of mine has a job. I have never owned a Cabbage Patch Kids doll. I’ve used the library to read newspapers from very long ago.

I can remember when my family moved into this house. My mother’s favorite flower is pretty typical.

I enjoy watching rain falling on a lake.

Someone I know is wearing green today. English accents really aren’t that attractive to me. I love listening to music boxes.

My dog is inside right now.

I’ve taken a college/university course before.

When there’s nothing on, I’ll watch re-runs of Happy Days.

It’s difficult for me to really get into a book. I love to eat lemons.

I prefer small venues for concerts opposed to large ones. Warped Tour isn’t as good as it used to be back in the ’90s. Yesterday was a good day. I would buy CDs all the time if I could afford it. Guitar Hero is overrated.

I’ve been grocery shopping recently.

All Time Low’s new stuff sounds much more New Found Glory than Blink 182.

I usually see the Harry Potter films within the first week of their release.

I’m going to a birthday party sometime in the next month. I prefer sans-serif fonts (Arial, Tahoma) to serif fonts (Times New Roman, Georgia). I don’t think peer pressure affects people as much as they say it does.

I still have a collection of VHS tapes. I would love to own a grand piano.

We use the back door of the house more often than the front door.

I absolutely love the insanity incorporated in some of Poe’s work.

Outer Space fascinates me.

I usually look for meaning in songs. I haven’t charged my cellphone today. My street name is also the name of a city.

Someone I know has done a choreographed dance to Beyonce’s “Single Ladies”.

Video games can keep me occupied for quite a while. I like to say “FAIL!” whenever someone screws up.

I don’t like to change my layout that often. I can’t remember the last time I played with a frisbee.

Our fridge doesn’t have a freezer.

Someone new followed my blog today.

My plans are never written in stone; they always change. I love creative cake makers. Summer passes way too quickly. I’ve watched a gay film before.

I really don’t like Xanga that much.

Facebook is stupid. I enjoy making graphics.

Elvis Costello is amazing.

FUCK WMG!

I don’t like waiting until fall for TV shows to start up again.

People are very annoying.

The band I’m listening to right now starts with an S.

I know what déjà vu actually means in French.

My favourite bath towel has a picture of something on it.

I think I’d make a pretty good actor, if I wanted to pursue that area. For as long as I’ve been living, my family has never been without a pet.

I vote for award shows.

I love going to furniture stores. The 90s was my favourite decade for non-mainstream music. My favorite book is pretty popular. I know how to read a map.

I don’t like boring cereal.

Yes, I approve of gay marriage. A friend of mine hasn’t lost his/her virginity yet. I actually wouldn’t like to be royalty.

Most good things in life are either illegal, immoral or fattening.

The idea of living out of a van appeals to me.

When someone has to say “honestly” at the start of their sentence, they’re probably not being honest.

I’ve created my own username for Facebook.

I don’t like waiting for videos to load. Little kids can always make me happy. I can’t stand it when people say “FML” over stupid things. It really sucks when I want to go to the theater but nothing good is playing. Americans suck at remaking Japanese horror films.

Lolcats are stupid, but they do make me laugh.

I get by with a little help from my friends. I often feel like I have to prove myself. I don’t think there should be “age limits” on kids things. I have a lyric painted on my wall.

[wasalwaysagreatpickle]

Friday 22 May 1829

7 20/60

11 55/60

Lay musing last night a little and more this morning what to do – 

Weighing all things will send for M. Séné, and see if he will take 4000/. a year (he paying all taxes and letting us have the furniture that we have) for his apartment rue neuve Saint Augustin – sat in my little quondam bedroom till my own room was done – wrote a note to ‘The Right Reverand Bishop Luscombe’ (by the way he lives 23 Place Vendome) to say with my compliments I was sorry I did not distinctly remember whether it was today or tomorrow he was so good as promised to administer the sacrament to my aunt – then wrote a note to ‘Miss Hobart’ merely to say that as it was Friday I should send George though not expecting a letter ‘I will call myself, and leave my card for Lady Stuart De Rothesay tomorrow – as it will be late, you will, of course, be out – let me find a note to say that you really will go to Mortefontaine; for a pair of horses must be sent forwards on Sunday to meet us 1/2 way on Monday – I shall count upon finding you ready precisely at 8 – Pray let Norbury go – very truly yours AL- Friday morning’ – 

Note back from bishop Luscombe with his compliments to say it was tomorrow he would come at 1 1/2 ‘perhaps a little later’ – Note from Miss Hobart to say there was no letter for me but she had sent me hers from Sibella from which it appeared she had ‘been alarmingly ill but by her speaking of joining you here I am in hopes she felt better when she wrote’ 

Miss Maclean’s letter half a sheet in an envelope directed ‘Miss Hobart the Lord Stuart de Rothesay’ – she seems to be at Mr Longs but desires her letters to be directed still to her lodging Duke Street 

Her continual weakness and continual violent cough so reduced her she ‘could do nothing but lie on the sofa – daily thinking I really thought I was going’ – Mr Long in dismay – ‘he poked about to see if there was anything in the rooms, that could disagree with me, went to my bed, the window was wide open, stretched himself out – and came running back saying he had discovered it – and that one night longer I should not stop here – 3 servants necessaries just under my window, this being a corner house, he sent instantly for chorarate (should be chlorate) of lime and purified my room and as Mr and Mrs Crosbie come today to spend a fortnight with him he insists on my going for a few days at least till I find other lodgings I have been in a fever ever since I came here, no sleep at night, not being able to breathe, my mouth and throat parched, I thought from inward fever, but the commotion Mr Long kicked up last night made me breathe better – but he insists it will kill me to remain longer, and I think so myself’ will go for a few days to the Skinners at Richmond – trusts she may venture to Hampshire for a week – must shew herself again to her doctor ‘and then sail from the Thames to Boulogne, or what ever way I may fix on joining dear Miss Lister – but perhaps she will join me in England’ (this letter dated 19th May) ‘she does not seem to have fixed her plans, I almost wish she may come you are very naughty to scold at my poor doctor how could he or any human being prevent my having those sad complaints, or when reduced by them talking a most terrible cold which affected me from top to toe – It was the state of high inflammation I was in, in winter that made him object to my going there till it was extracted – and you say Lady S de Rothesay must leave it for the heat etc. etc. she means Paris, and mentions the Burys and others who could not bear the heat –

Poor soul! how difficult to know what to do -  but this letter is a satisfaction to me – there is an assigned and probable cause for her being so much worse of late, and this is consolation – Backwards and forwards walk with Drake about horses to Mortefontaine on Monday – if horses go one day to meet us the next, Drake must get a permit from the poste royale, and pay what would be expected of post horses – this will not do – Drake to come and speak to me – Had just written all the above of today (had breakfast about 10 or soon after, in 1/2 hour) at 12 50/60 – 

Miss Maclean concludes with ‘you must send my letter to that best of friends Miss L as I have not a comment to write by this days post’ at two and three quarters had written my letter to Miss Maclean - 

Wrote a full 1/2 sheet and 1 page of envelope to Miss Maclean. Had just had a note from Vere with her letter from Miss Maclean which was a great comfort to me – an assigned and probable cause for her being so much worse of late and I was satisfied ‘Mr Long was right not to let you remain in a place so fatal to all hope of your recovery – I now begin to breathe again and to persuade myself that, with good management, you may still be spared to us – get out of London – as Vere well observed, you cannot be worse off here, than there – If Lady Stuart de Rothesay leaves Paris during the heat of summer, who does not leave London during the same? you would be quite as well here, or better, even in August, than in London – But have we not resources here, as well as [your] all other great towns? Can we not go into the country? and, if I am rather tethered for the moment, yet I think I could continue for you – But as to the heat of Paris, much depends on management’…. how does my aunt bear it so well? Miss Maclean would be better here than she expects – try Hampshire, and then, as I said in my last, Guernsey – 

Hope we shall have got settled about another apartment in a few days – Perhaps it may suit her better to come per steam from London to Boulogne – can rest there as long as she likes ‘Oh! that you could have come with Lady Stuart whose rate of travelling I really almost think, from your letter this morning, you would be able to bear! Perhaps you would have no cough at all, as soon as you are this side of the water’ But to write and tell me what she thinks and wishes and I will do my utmost – Cannot think the Burys or anyone else can be better judges than Vere and myself – the English all ‘flock to the rue de Rivoli, the most baking street in Paris – I do remember how, even if more coolly lodged, they come to see sights, and go about all day as if there was neither sun to shine, nor earth to absorb his rays’ – she may go and sit in the Tuileries gardens – always delightful under the shade there – How do people go to Interlacken? ‘I should say, the heat of the Swiss valleys in summer is far more insupprtable than that of Paris – Vevay is a nice place – I wish you were with your friend there, till time to come here – But think, and write - … I was at the soirée last night, at the Embassy, and was really amused, and spent an hour there pleasantly enough – Vere was exceedingly kind and attentive; and you yourself would have been quite satisfied with her looks, and with all about her – she really seems to enjoy herself, and to have every reason to do so – I admire Lady Stuart de Rothesay very much – she does the honours of that magnificent hotel admirably – Just as I was coming away the Hagermans (arrived in Paris probably on Tuesday) were arriving – I should have known Madame de Hagerman] from her likeness to Mrs Foster – I saw Vere on Wednesday and expect to take her to Mortefontaine (Joseph Buonaparte’s place) on Monday – she is a very nice girl; and you have never praised her half enough – Never did 1/2 blood sisters resemble each other so little in externals – I could not help saying to myself; the Hobart and Coll were infinitely the better arrangement of the 2 – the travelling scheme is still on the tapis, but not for me to set off before next winter and to be absent for 2 or 3 years – I hope to see you well first – I have always had a presentment that Paris would do you good – But this is to try – Do what you think best – I have no wish but for the welfare and happiness, and, right or wrong as to the means of promoting them, I am, at all rates, my dearest Sibella, always and invariably affectionately and faithfully yours AL- Paris Friday 22 May 1829 – 

I had almost written the whole of the above of today at 3 10/60 when the proprietaire of No. the apartment No. 357 rue Saint Honoré came for my answer – would gladly let me the premier because a deputé wished for the 2nde and would take the little apartment à côté, but would not let it him if I would take the 2nde – would let me have it for 4500 – said with much expression of regret how sorry I was, but could not give that price – would I make an offer – declined because I knew it could not be accepted – the premier too noisy – I expected a friend, and should want the additional little room – M. – sat about 10 minutes and went away – thus there is an end of No. 357 rue Saint Honoré for me – Too expensive – it would have been madness – thus I have been saved the trouble of writing – 

Then wrote the following to Miss Hobart ‘Dear Miss Hobart. Here is Sibella’s letter back again with my best thanks – It does indeed seem that she has been alarmingly ill, and is yet far from recovered – I have written to say I wish she could have come with Lady Stuart, for both you and I think, she could not be worse off here than in London – I fear there is no chance of any change in Lady Stuart’s plans that can affect Sibella – I shall see you at 8 a.m. on Monday – truly yours AL- 

Sent off this note under cover to ‘Miss Hobart with my letter to ‘Miss Maclean of Coll 17 Duke Street Portland place’ and with her letter to Miss Hobart back again at 5 1/4 – should have sent 1 1/2 hour before but McDonald and [Cameron] gone out – 

Then found my cousin come 

Settled my accounts – Note from Madame Galvani at 4 40/60 by Pauline ‘qui doit exercer son talent chez vous trois heures par jour au echange d’une somme de 15 francs par mois Nannette repond de va probité…. McDonald went out with [Cameron] to help her to choose a gown, and they are not yet returned at 5 25/60 – so this poor Pauline fille or femme de peine (drudge) that Madame Galvani has sent has been waiting these 3/4 hour, and now that George is gone had the kitchen to herself – bonne exercise de sa probité – 

Dinner at 6 10/60 – came to my room at 8 – nap on my sofa – then wrote rough draft of index of 6, 7, and 8 May – coffee at 9 – Drake will change 75 francs for 2 pair of horses to Mortfontaine and back on Monday 1 pair to be sent forward on Sunday – came to my room at 10 – stood an hour or at least 50 minutes, reading the livre de postes, and calculating whether it would be better to have posthorses or not – no – 10 postes and 2 extra postes = 12 at 10/. (for we must have 4 horses and 2 postilions) = 120 francs – very fine day – very warm – Fahrenheit at 70˚ all the day, out of my window – Fahrenheit 60˚ now at 11 10/60 p.m. -

[hollywoodx4]

Sticking With the Schuylers (49)

It’s here, I finished! Thanks for your patience, this one is an emotional burden, and honestly took a lot of time. But hello to all of  the new readers! I’ve been watching the notifications (thanks for liking, by the way) so thankful that you guys have given this long ass story a chance. This series is my entire heart, so thank you. I appreciate every like, comment...everything. 

1  2  3  4   5   6   7   8   9   10   1112   I  13  14   15   16   17   18A  18B   18C  I 19   20   21   22   23   24   25  26   27  28   29   I  30  31  32 33 34  35  36  37 38  39 40  41  42 I 43  44  B  45 46  47 48

Tagging: @linsnavi  @workworkbae​ @adothoe @oosnavi​

Warnings: This story is pretty heavy on mentions of both physical and emotional abuse.

“Schuyler Liar? A look into the life, love, and lies of America’s middle daughter.”

Social media was buzzing with a flurry of mixed emotions when James Reynolds, political hopeful, admitted the rekindling of his relationship with Elizabeth Schuyler. The two had called it quits in March based on terms James “couldn’t and still can’t understand.” In September, in flooded news of a new romance for the middle Schuyler. And in November, those rumors were confirmed. From there, Shuyler’s social media has been dotted with photos of herself and Alexander Hamilton, a fellow student at Columbia University. But even these photos, beautifully presented have raised a lot of speculation. The main question? Is Elizabeth Schuyler really dating this poise-less immigrant? Sources have been back and forth on this argument from the day Eliza herself confirmed it. And Mystery Man? His private Instagram has recently been made public, his follower count raising by the thousands.

               But is this all just a publicity stunt? Reynolds says yes. According to an anonymous source, the two have started dating again. And Hamilton? A front. But other sources say that these allegations are also false. And at the center of it all? A red-handed Schuyler, caught in the act of serial dating. All three parties refused to comment on these accusations, Reynolds offering only “If it’s true, if she’s dating someone else, I don’t know what I’ll do. That would break me, I think.”

               What do you think? We think that someone has some major explaining to do.

___

               Madness is a murky pond; stagnant and still, a breeding ground for new life that isn’t quite wanted. The lurking of bacteria within that pond presents itself as a tightened stomach, nerves that roll and flip and eat at the soul. It’s the disguise of something simple that sparks the nerves, paranoia consuming the murky waters until they bubble over with the addition of new rainfall. But this is rain that falls heavy, with gale-force winds and storms that shake the land around her. This madness is a pond wracked by fallen branches. It’s a rain that will not cleanse.

               Eliza spends a majority of her time in a state of busyness; the winter has brought along a lot of busywork she isn’t prepared for. The holiday season, and then Alex’s birthday, had come and gone so quickly that her course work piled up. Now, she sits on it-or, within the depths of it. With a full backburner of work, Eliza finds herself in a state of uncommon disarray; her hair in a messy bun, the canvas bag she uses to tote things back and forth now cluttered with a collection of her week’s discarded items. Empty gum wrappers crinkle as she gets out a book, the floor receiving a coating of glitter from an art project she’d lead in an Early Childhood class. Among these things, charcoals and pens that have lost half their volume, shortened by a newfound flaring of emotions she’s unable to convey through any other means.

               Then, the white journal that Lisa had given her. She’d been asked to use it frequently, with assignments and with the use of another outlet. It’s supposed to help, to clear her mind and give her something to keep herself busy, and grounded to reality. So far, her work had spanned from a quote written in neat handwriting over the front cover (which she’d spent far longer on than necessary) to the first page, which she’d covered in Polaroid photos and similarly picturesque captions. Everything reads sweet, docile. She uses pastel pens and watercolor paints in this book, which she’d presented proudly to Lisa the next session.

               “It looks very well put-together.” She’d turned the journal over in her magenta manicured hands, considering it with a nod and half of a smile before returning it to Eliza’s waiting hands. “Soon, we’ll work on pulling you away from that.”

               Lisa does a lot of half-smiling in the weeks that pass; Eliza’s journal does not get filled, nor does what has been put inside encompass a stitch of her therapist’s expectations. Each week she presents it like a master chef showing off his greatest dish, and each week Lisa nods. She takes notes. She fills up the legal pad she’d opened when they’d first started working together and immediately opens a new one. Her hand can’t seem to stop during their sessions, where Eliza fills Lisa in on her week in broken up fragments, bits and pieces she tosses in to fill the awkward silence.

               “Are you ready to talk about the journaling?”

               Eliza shakes her head.

               “I’m working on it.”

                 Thursday morning has Alexander practically bursting through the door of Starbucks, scanning the tables and couches until he finds her in the back, scribbling in a white book in an enclosed area of the room. He ducks past a line that swivels out the door, grabbing the espresso-laden drink John had made ahead before sinking into the seat across from his girlfriend.

               Eliza doesn’t look up. Her eyes are glued to her book, her hand frozen in time. He clears his throat. She takes in a soft breath, just enough of a clue for Alexander to know that she hasn’t died right there on the unsteady corner table. He presses, saying her name again in a soft and gentle sort of tone before her head snaps up from her work. Eliza’s hands are shaking when she brushes the loose strands of hair from her face, combing it between her fingers before her long, dark locks fall over one shoulder. She tips her head in the opposite direction, leaning over the table for a kiss.

               “How’s work?”

               “Good, I wish I could go in and finish filing those papers though.”

“Does your boss have another stupid, weird task for you to do today? Dusting the ceilings of his office, getting his mail from the P.O box?”  Alex turns his head slightly, subconsciously.

“Liza, it’s Thursday…I have off. We always meet here on Thursdays because of that, before my 7 a.m?”

“You’re right,” She shakes her head. “This whole change of schedule thing is really killing me, I only knew what day it was when I had to say it during morning lesson.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay over last night; our whole electric bill problem? Insane. They had to take the phone from me. Apparently I’m not as calm under pressure as Laff is.”

“You? Stressed? Never.”

She laughs, then, tucks her hair behind her ear again. There’s a crack; somewhere, within the smile that’s not quite hers and the shaking hands that bring a hot cup to peach colored lips. She’s not present in the writing upon it-Soy caramel latte, espresso- that’s not quite right, or in the way that her feet swing slightly under the table. He reaches over to take one of her hands, hold it in his.

“Eliza,” He can only say her name at first, stuck between her eyes and the half of her smile with a gentle sort of unease, one that hits him with only the smallest wave of rolling-stomach nerves. “Are you alright?”

One hand squeezes his. The other cups his face, thumb rolling off of freshly trimmed stubble that bristles as she touches it. She brings her lips to his cheek, lets them linger before releasing herself. There is just enough space between her lip and his cheek for air to pass through, and she speaks to him in a reserved, dulcet sort of tone before kissing him one last time.

“I’m fine.”

His nerves had always been overactive anyway.

                  Emptiness would have been a better companion than this-hell, it had been for a very long time. The more time she spends with Lisa, and on her work, the more she feels the progression of the inevitable collapse. She had been warned. Multiple times, Lisa had taken stock of their conversations and attempted to bring up the change in emotions that would come with the sudden release of what she’d been repressing. Eliza had brushed it off, told Alex and Angelica and Peggy to ignore the words. She’s always been the face of positivity. In a storm, she’s that first heart-stopping breakthrough of a lighthouse’s illuminating guidance.

               She doesn’t feel much like a lighthouse anymore.

               With each passing day; with the conversation crawling deeper, and the darkness cracking through its long-housed hiding place, Eliza feels like she’d like to hide as well. So she does. She fills her schedule with meaningless tasks, highlighted and underlined as if their significance is related to anything but her gradually fraying mental state. There is suddenly too much, yet not enough. Not enough work, not enough of a responsibility outside of herself to maintain. But this state of being is different, trapped between the living and the successful and those just barely scraping by. On any given day these feelings create a dissonance that wracks Eliza’s body with sickness and sucks away the hope. The confidence of success; of receiving a good grade, or reading a positive article written about her (finally, because these are now dwindling), makes her heart soar. But in that same note, that same day, the churning storm that hovers over her soul continues its darkness, takes that lightness and positivity away in one greedy draining of shining water from her shoreline.

               “I need you to think about this for a moment, Eliza.”

               She runs a lot; three miles, then five, and suddenly her feet are pounding against concrete and her heart against her chest and the ten mile mark rolls around and finally, finally, she can’t feel a single thing except the exhaustion that weighs on her bones and the sweat that drips down her nose. It cakes her face in moisture that blends itself with the salt-ridden drops that come from her eyes, osmosis implementing a perfect disguise. There’s a track her feet beat along the pavement; the heat of her frustration could melt the perfection of that shoveled, blackened tar, create craters of catharsis that don’t quite reach high enough into her mind to ebb her issues completely. There aren’t enough hours in the snow-ridden days, aren’t enough degrees on the thermometer to cure everything. She runs anyway. She runs until her cheeks are bitten red with cold, until the snow has penetrated black sneakers and wool-thick socks.

               It feels amazing in the moment. In the moment, with the span of a sparsely populated Central Park is lain out in front of her, Eliza is able  to clear everything else away. There is nothing but the bitter air and her hot breath, rhythmic and visible against the continually grey sky. At first, it’s as if every blog she’d been combing through held a truth comparable to her own; running truly is the best therapy, the curative she’d been looking for all along. It’s a stronger prescription than a silly white journal, or even the sketchbook under her mattress. For Eliza, running is the best therapy until her feet no longer hit the pavement.

               Everything shatters when she enters her apartment again, strips off her sweat-ridden clothes and lets her body adjust to one simultaneous temperature. Without the biting wind or the surroundings of the busy city to distract her, the perfect solution she’d read and prescribed herself to so intensely becomes nothing but an illusion. There is no change in her soul, which is riddled with a hot-breath-in-February swirling, a smoke-and-mirrors game just teasingly perfect enough to hold an addictive property. When she’s home, when her feet are given their long begged-for respite, Eliza wants nothing more than to beat them up again. A shockwave of pain begins to pound up her leg, to knees that pinch and pop in protest. Her soul begs her to continue anyway, to carry on this bodily abuse if only for the temporary relief of her soul.

…

               “I have something to tell you.” Eliza’s soft hum is her response, and she stirs the pot on the stove in concentration. The strain in Angelica’s voice is evident, yet hidden. The wood flooring knocks beneath what Eliza envisions as her sister shifting her weight from foot to foot, focused-or hesitating. She guesses the latter when Angelica lets out a long, drawn-out sigh.

               “You know I love you more than anything else.”

               “Yeah…”

               “And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what,”

               “Did John propose? Because I know you weren’t into that idea but if he did,” She can feel the roll of Angelica’s eyes before she sees it, stops herself mid-sentence and turns back to her work. There is an air about the room, an air between them that Eliza cannot decipher. It is not the golden, shimmering playfulness they’d had as kids, or when Peggy is with them and they’re hit with the freedom to spend the day together. It isn’t the air of purple guidance, a soothing lavender brushing against her porcelain skin when Eliza wasn’t sure if she was going to get into Columbia. It isn’t even the placid sort of mocha, comfort and a coffee shop warmth in just being together. This is something new altogether, a flickering orange that stops and starts itself as Angelica moves herself to stand next to Eliza at the counter. It moves up and down that orange spectrum just slightly as Angelica fidgets; taps her foot, puts a hand on the knob of the stove. It’s in her breathing, slightly irregular, and the press of her darker hand against her middle sister’s.

               “Back in September, I applied for an intensive study abroad program in England. It would mean that I could get my double major completely done instead of having to come back to Columbia next year. I could be in a law firm at the start of next year. I could be heading protests, working with the Association for Women’s Rights in Development. Do you know how many job opportunities are right in this city, how many lives I could change?”

               “So you applied.”

               “I got in.” She nearly whispers the words, as if they are a secret so precious that she must keep them close to her chest. She breathes in, a great upheaval of emotions, before a wide and exuberant grin shift her mature, more collected features. It is a resounding firework of bliss and unfiltered pride that buries itself into Eliza’s stomach, and she begs her own lips to turn up in a congratulations she can barely manage.

               “I’m so happy for you,” this is honest. Her mind repeats the words, holds on to them as her older sister runs through the details with a fine-toothed comb, explaining the process of application and sorting through the emotions that had been running through her head.

               “When I got that letter, I just-I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t know what to do. It’s been a crazy month going back and forth, and John wasn’t happy with me for a really long time. But this is so important to him, and Peggy agreed that it wasn’t fair that you didn’t know, and,”

               “Wait, Peggy knows?”

               “Yeah…yeah, I told her when the letter came in, back when I told mom and dad and they were being crabby about my going across the country with John, as if we haven’t been dating our entire lives.”

               “Oh.” It’s all she can muster. She turns back to the stove, where the soup has begun to bubble up rapidly from the lack of attention she has paid it. Eliza turns the burner down, focuses the turn of her stomach and the prickling of tensed nerves on the stirring of the liquids in the pot.  She pictures her oldest sister, her source of guidance, spending a semester away from her in England. The grin that had encompassed her face, the one that had seemed so different on her typically composed features that would be a common occurrence at Oxford. John had always wanted this, Angelica had pretended not to. Eliza feels the tears before they come, attempts to blink them away.

               It seems silly to cry over something as simple as this; Angelica deserves this happiness, this time apart from the chaos that is erupting. And Eliza is nothing but willing to give it all to her. If it had been her choice, if Angelica had come to her first, she would have sent her on that plane instantly. No matter what. There is a piece of her that realizes that. Angelica moves to hold her, to turn off the burner and wrap her in her arms.

When they were younger, when Eliza was scared or hurt or unable to sleep, she’d crawl under the duvet in Angelica’s room. Her older sister would brush her fingers through her silky hair, press their faces close together and hum words of encouragement through the light innocence of a child’s voice speaking a mother’s words. This feels no different; her tears, although they are few from what she can feel, soak through the shoulder of Angelica’s soft purple work blouse. The material is butter in Eliza’s hands, where she keeps them wrapped tight around her sister’s waist. She longs for the darkened silence of her childhood bedroom, where Angelica had been able to keep her safe from everything with just her words. And then, her weakness snaps with the resistance of a rubber band. Heat encompasses the muscles that had relaxed and numbed with sadness. She pushes herself from Angelica’s embrace, her eyes engulfed with the clouds of a storm.

“Why am I the last person you told?”

“Betsy,”

“No, really. Why? Because it’s not like I’m the last place you’ve visited in a day. You got accepted last month. You’ve been hiding this from me for that long. And not everyone, just me.”

“Eliza, you know it’s harder with you. You’re…it’s different. I can’t just up and leave you, I’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Why, because I’m fragile? Because I’m broken? I’m not a child anymore, Angelica. I’m doing perfectly fine, and you would know that if you spent more time talking to me than at me. I’m not just some project you can throw yourself into because you’re looking for someone to fix. I’m fine, and I’m tired of being treated like I’m not.”

Angelica, wounded from the verbal bullets her red-eyed sister had aimed her way, takes a step back. She gathers her coat, laces her boots, and stands by the door without a single word. She shakes her head, multiple times, as if the motion is settling the jumbled mass of thoughts and emotions that have clouded her usual judgement. The calm, collected state is gone from her mind, replaced with a form of despair as she looks upon her sister’s cracked frame, which is held together by arms that hug herself tight.

“I’ll call you later.” Angelica’s voice is soft, cracking as she closes the apartment door behind her. And when she does call, over and over, Eliza does not answer.

…

               “Breakthroughs don’t just happen with the bare minimum of work. If you choose to ignore this, the loneliness? It’ll only get worse.”

               …

               Monday brings a missed class, Wednesday a canceled date night. By the time Friday rolls around, Eliza claims sickness and burrows herself in a pile of blankets and tea. She attempts to read, but the words on the page dance and rearrange themselves into situations she remembers only in the faint hours of the night, when there is nothing else to distract her. She watches reality television that holds none of her interest, watching beautifully made-up girls try on wedding dresses and fight with their bridal parties over the pros and cons. First there is a low, one that picks at her brain and forces her to place her head upon these bodies, imagine herself in such a state of bliss. But each time she gets close enough to feeling the light that would allow, it disappears.

               The effects of her current state of emotion are instantaneous, and frightening. Eliza lingers in a limbo between them all with no control, begging her brain for release from the heinous behavior she no longer has the will to contain. She will not answer Angelica’s phone calls. She considers skipping brunch. The thought of socialization hangs heavily, exhaustingly over her head. And when she attempts to write in her white journal, it only intensifies.

               She begins with something simple; his name. She writes it over and over, until her hand has memorized the pattern she had known so well. She presses hard with her pen, then soft. She uses writing delicate as spring, with curly letters and hearts, and next to it places the stark contrast of capital letters and roughly pressed ink. She researches, looks up the origin of his name and laughs when it tells her the meaning ‘to overthrow.’ She’s sure the truth is just a coincidence, that the action of taking over her mind isn’t caused by some stupid website on the internet with little historical citation. Her mind must be playing tricks to consider the fact that this one word is exactly what is happening. But then, Reynolds; a powerful ruler.

               She gives up on her little white journal.

               She shuts herself further into her burrow.

               It is a reluctant Sunday brunch, one which she barely remembers through the closed pieces of her mind and the pushing of her fork over another beautifully done vegetarian dish. Her father prods her, reminds her of the chef’s kindness in remembering her dietary choices after all of these years. It is Peggy who drowns the potatoes and tofu in Sriracha and blocks her nose, playfully mocks her sister’s choice over steak and chicken. Eliza holds herself well enough to bring some of the shining light into the photographs they’re asked to take.

               She falls asleep almost instantly when she gets back to her apartment.

               There isn’t enough time in the day to sleep anymore, not when her dreams are restless, filled with dark hands that press themselves too tight, suffocate her until she wakes in choking agony.

…

               “It is not your fault. You did not choose for this to happen.”

               On Monday, after a full week and a half without seeing Eliza, Alexander picks at the spare key dangling from his keyring. He holds it during class, lets it make indents in his palm until he is sure they will be permanent. Her name rings through his mind for the entirety of the day, until he feels a strong and bubbling nausea rise to his throat.

               He excuses himself from his class half an hour early. He makes it to her apartment in record time.

               She isn’t anywhere to be found, and at first he is thankful; maybe she’s in class, or with Angelica. Maybe she’d decided to take the unseasonably warm day to roam the city instead. But the slight differences within his once home are evident, calling him to search further than the kitchen. There are dishes in the sink, a dishwasher full of dirty ones that hadn’t been run yet. There aren’t any blankets on the couch, but a line of teacups take over the coffee table. The floor crunches with a layer of salty outdoor debris, its origin made clear by the shoes that litter every corner except the empty basket they are supposed to be in. Every blanket in the apartment; the one that used to be on the couch, and the armchair, and even one of his own fleece touristy blanket-they’re all discarded on her bed, crafted into a cocoon worn and wrinkled with use. Laundry litters the floor there, too, as if everything she had said to him about discarding his clothes in the bathroom had been a joke.

               The bathroom-when he approaches the door, there is a light shining through its narrow crack. There is no sound; not from the outside, and not after his entrance is announced with the creak of its hinges. He notices her instantly, the way she sits in the middle of the tiled flooring. She is surrounded by papers, papers covered in blacks and blues that have transferred to her arm. From the tips of her fingers to her elbow she is covered in paint, the substance drying and caking itself, consuming. Her head is bent, legs spread as her body stretches over another recently blank canvas. She paints this one a brilliantly crafted grayscale, one that begins with a single speck of white in the center. From there it is a spiral, a blend of darkness that leads to complete black, darker than night and lining the canvas. It traps the brilliance of the white inside of its spiral, keeps it prisoner within itself. Eliza’s brush moves with delicate, shaking strokes as she perfects the lines  , concentrates and hides behind the thin veil of the unruly waves of her hair.

               He is silent. For a moment, he watches her focus, although he is sure by the slow and unnatural rhythm of her breathing that her focus is drawn to something other than acrylic paints and the storm cloud of paints that decorate her arms. Her silence is broken by a minute sound, a sniff that barely reaches the motion of her body. It is enough; enough to bring him next to her on the floor, the bitter cold of the tile seeping through his jeans. Alexander’s voice is just above a whisper when he holds his hand out, asks if he can use the warmth of his touch to break through the numb, unresponsive state she had holed herself up in.

               When his warmth reaches her back, when his hand rubs small circles and his voice takes the place of the stagnant silence she had been living in for a week, her head falls to the floor. His heart, which had all but stopped upon seeing her so still and silent, cracks and throbs as Eliza’s body shakes. She presses one hand to the floor, hitting the brilliance of her painting without noticing, and uses the last ounce of her strength to pull herself into his lap. One cheek presses into his jeans, which are just beginning to lose the chill of the outside air. He uses both hands to support her now, one on her back and the other in her hair, on her waist. He presses her as close to him as he can, feels the feeble weight of her body lose the last ounce of its strength.

               He does not say anything.

               He doesn’t have to.

               For that singular moment, Eliza presses play on her life.

               Alexander transfers her to her bed, presses a kiss to her forehead and promises to return. He cleans the teacups, washes the dishes and starts the dishwasher. He folds the laundry stuck stagnant in the dryer. He cleans the paintbrushes in the sink, watches the water go from clear to murky black and back again. By the time is done, and he pulls the covers back from her bed, Eliza is asleep in the deconstructed cocoon. Alexander lays beside her, and draws her closer.

               Eliza, for the first time in a week and a half, sleeps through the night.

               “Breakthroughs don’t happen in a night. They take patience, time…they take a hell of a lot of work. But if that work is put in, if pain is felt for just a moment, your life could change.

               Take this journal; I need you to remember, Eliza. I need you to feel.”

[trbl-will-find-me]

OTP Q & A

More prompts from @realizin-g

(aka Fluff! Lots of fluff! Jane belongs to @commanderweir. Lizzie’s just on babysitting duty.)

4. Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?

[During the EU/EW invasion]

His datapad buzzes. Go to bed, the message reads.

Can’t sleep, he types. Might as well be up getting something done.

There’s a pause, and it buzzes again. You just ran a 22 hour shift on 4 hours of sleep. Productivity can wait.

You wanna itemize the expenses?

Council can shove it. Expense reports can wait. Get some sleep.

I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine.

…Do I have to come tuck you in

8. Which one spends all day running errands, and which one says “you remembered [thing], right?”

[Pre-EEAE]

In general, she is the one with time to spare. On sabbatical from the university, her time not spent in meetings is her own, leaving her to do as she sees fit

Today, she rolls out of bed sometime around 10, gets dressed, and picks up coffee cake and apple cider at the café on the corner. . She picks up their dry cleaning, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the woman behind the counter, and runs it back. She picks up produce from the farmer’s market, and wanders for a while, munching on strawberries she rinses off with her water bottle. She stops in the bookstore, emerging with some Dashiell Hammett novel and a handful of postcards to send to her parents: Look guys! This is what location-stable living is like!

It is all going so well, until she checks her phone: Don’t forget, we have that dinner tonight.

She texts him back. Why must you ruin my afternoon? I have strawberries.

Duty calls, Regan … but save some of those for me, please.

11. If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through laser and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?

[Pre-EEAE]

“Why?” She groans at the movie on the screen. “Why don’t they ever think heists through?

“Is this really a conversation you want to have in public?”

“You’ve got Dress Blues on, and we’re stuck on this plane for another two hours. We’re fine. But, seriously. Why. That’s so much extra work. Just cut the power to the building and go in like that. Much less effort. Besides, how are they gonna get the painting through the lasers?”

“It’s a matter of pride, not taking the easy way out.”

“Oh god, you’re the one with baby powder and spandex suit, aren’t you?”

“I plead the fifth.”

13. Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?

[Pre-EEAE]

It’s fine, he tells himself, signing the receipt. This happens sometimes.

The story goes like this. He’d asked her for something to write with for a meeting, and she’d passed him the most perfectly weighted, cartridge-based fountain pen he’d ever used, a fact he had mentioned upon returning it.

Two weeks later, one showed up in his mailbox, along with a smattering of inks. Life’s too short to use boring pens, the note said.

He’d found the earrings, tiny paper cranes folded in a bright red paper, when he’d stopped to get coffee somewhere and found himself wandering around the small shop attached while he waited. Into the mail they’d gone.

It had only escalated.

He’d come home the week before to find a pair of silver cufflinks shaped like D20 dice in the mail. Turns out Chicago wasn’t a total bust, the note says.

The necklace is dendritic agate, which he supposes might be more meaningful if he had any idea about gemology. All does know is that it looks like flowers pressed beneath glass, a whole landscape in two inches.  

Well, that, and where it’s going.

23. Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?

[Pre-EEAE]

There are certain things he has come to expect in Regan’s apartment: stacks of books, mail from whatever exotic locale her parents are stationed, a collection of shoes scattered throughout the hall, the contents of her purse upended on an otherwise unused dining room table, her coat shrugged off and draped across the couch.

The dog is new.

“I never pictured you as a German Shepherd person,” he says.

She shrugs. “Me either, but she’s a good girl. Not mine, but a good girl.”

“I was gonna say…”

She shakes her head. “I’m watching her for a friend.”

The dog uncurls herself from the couch, and trots over, nuzzling against Regan. “Hi, pretty,” she says, kneeling down to offer a scratch behind the hears. “Have a good day?”

The dog answers her with a lick. Satisfied, it moves onto him, offering a greeting in much the same fashion. He scratches under her chin, and is rewarded with a wagging tail.

“I always wanted a dog,” she says, wistfully. “Having Jane around just makes that worse.” She shrugs. “Maybe after things settle down…” She looks up at him from her position on the floor. “Think I could talk Curran into giving us one?”

“There are things even you can’t pull off.”

She contemplates this for a moment. “Hey,” she grins. “You never know.”

24. Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?

[Pre-EEAE]

Her heel breaks with a dull thud, and suddenly she is standing lopsided in the  lobby. The giggles follow swiftly thereafter.

“How?” He asks her, surveying the damage.

“You know, I thought they were wiggling earlier, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Wiggling?”

She nods. “Heels sometimes do that before they break.”

He gapes at her. “Why?”

She shrugs. “Physics was never my strong point.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not like you can just walk through the driveway like that.”

“It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options here.”

“If you think I can’t piggyback-carry you out of here, I have news for you.”

Her eyes light up. “What a Boy Scout,” she grins.

--

From: Curran, HC To: Bradford, J

Lieutenant Commander, kindly explain to me why there is a photo of you in Dress Blues carrying Dr. Regan and what appears to be her shoe through the lobby on the Washingtonian’s story on last night’s festivities? We are all very curious to hear what might have necessitated such a display.

(P.S. Dr. Regan’s parents will no doubt be as interested in her explanation. I’m sitting across from her sufficiently appalled mother as I write this.)

26. Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder?

[AU: Get Out Early While You Can --- Bradford & Regan make an Exit, Stage Right from XCOM a few months before the invasion]

They don’t have a lot of pictures together. The meetings, dinners, and functions that made up the bulk of their life under XCOM were not the kind of spaces that permitted casual photography, and their time outside of that was such that he was often too engaged in the moment to remember to stop and capture it. 

They’ll have time now, though.

He still can’t quite believe they’ve left. XCOM had brought them together, had sent them all over the world, had given them the time to fall in love. To walk away feels strange, even though he knows he would make the same choice. She is worth it. A future together is worth it. There is the story they’ve written, and they story they’ve yet to write; he cherishes the former, but can’t wait for the latter.

There is a ring box in his pocket. One of these days, he’ll get around to opening it for her, asking her the question, and seeing what kind of response he gets.

In the meantime, she is asleep on his shoulder, the rise and fall of her chest slow and steady. His arm is around her waist, holding her close. In his other hand is his phone.

He unlocks it, and taps the camera.

Better late than never, he thinks.

[survivor-iceland]

Ep. 1 - “How does one socialize again?” - Dylan C

Maynor

The game has finally started. Let’s see how i do in my last game before I take a long break from playing.

Sierra

As soon as the cast was revealed, it was so exciting! I started looking around, and I really feel like I have a strong tribe. I can't wait to get to know people, hear how they think about the game... and I also hope that I'm able to build some strong bonds, too! My greatest fear in this game is probably getting voted out first. So as long as it isn't me...

Zoe Malzone

Before the challenge I was added into an alliance group with sierra, cormac, and john later entitled "oh, worm?" i also spoke a bit to stephen who congratulated me on not being silent and still being a newbie. I volunteered for the bamboo chopping challenge and got too sweaty and the cup slipped off my finger at eight minutes. However, I did make a little bond with the people I participated with, and the host *didn't* say we could potentially make an alliance with each other, which I then hinted at. Nobody said anything about it, but it's not... not a possibility.

Raffy

Alright, let's get into it. I am getting good vibes from Joseph right off the bat. I feel like him and I are going to get along swimmingly throughout the competition. I think Ellie believes that we have an alliance straight off that bat, but I won't forget how she tried to snake me out. So, I will be cautious of her at best. Other than that, Dylan C. is pretty cool and I am excited to play with them again which is wild. That's like back to my ORG origins right there. I think our tribe is going to kill the challenge, but I had to give up what I wanted to do because someone can't read apparently. But, c'est la vie. I'll try my best with winterbells but I cannot guarantee I'll do well

Keith John

Well I joined the group later, wasnt able to chat due to the time difference. No one approached me with a private chat except for cormac, So atleast I know one person made the effort.

I spoke to Stephen, since we were teamed up for the same portion of the challenge. seemed like I would have connected with him. But I dont know why, he doesnt seem very chatty with me. Since he is the only other one with a big time difference, Im hoping he aint gona use that to try and make me boot number one. 

I am gona try and see if I can touch base with jack, he was nice and accommodating towards me for the challenge. Hopefully il be able to connect with him

John

Ok, so i think i made an alliance last night? I figured having an alliance of at least half the tribe would be a safe move. I’m honestly fearful it’s just gonna blow up in my face somehow but that’s just the anxiety talking hahahaha. TimmyMy arms hurt!! That challenge was a lot, but I’m shocked I lasted for 2 hours. I knew I couldn’t beat Maynor because he’s amazing at endurance comps. I know I’m good at them but i am able to recognize when someone is better than me at something. During the challenge Zoe proposed a cross tribal alliance between me, her, Dylan C, and Maynor and honestly I’m here for it.

Obviously I’m going to work with Maynor, so being able to be in an alliance with him that i didn’t have to make is so convenient. Today I’ll spend time talking to people and making connections, but I hope for now I showed that I can be helpful in challenges even though I didn’t win.

Kieran

Right now, I'm a little worried. I didn't get a chance to make the same first impressions and relationships like everyone else did, so I need to play catch-up.

Kieran

When speaking to Raffy, immediately this person is not someone I think I can trust. I just have a gut feeling about it. 

Raffy

I spent my morning playing Winterbells which is not the most fun experience. However, I do feel confident that I'll carry this for the tribe! Besides that, I've reached out to Keith and Sierra from the other tribe. Keith sort of gives me weird vibes and he isn't the most entertaining to talk to. I have to manage somehow though. Luckily, I'm not on his tribe for the time being. Sierra seems really sweet. I want to see if I can work with her since she also seems nice and active. Those are good ally traits. Also Kieran messaged me today. And his second message to me was asking me if any alliances were made yet. I mean wig. But don't be a crackhead! It's only day 2 with no tribe calls. That's kind of crackhead behavior. I'm obsessed, but I do hope that means that he doesn't shoot himself in the foot. I'll keep my distance for the time being

Raffy

Keith is telling me that people on his tribe are not messaging him which is not a good sign. So, I don't want him as an ally if he's already going to be the social pariah of his tribe

Raffy

And now Keith just told me that he wants to isntantly work together come a merge or swap. It's day 2!!!!! I don't know you!!!!

Kieran

I've been assigned the task of making a cross-alliance with someone from my tribe and two people from the other tribe. I could not be feeling more #blessed right now, because something like this is right up my alley!

Raffy

According to Ellie, she got herself in a 4 person cross tribal alliance with Cormac, Sierra, and Joseph. My threat alert is already on high. An alliance that I'm not a part of is an alliance that is a threat. She says that it was Cormac's idea and that he is being "overly strategic." I'm instantly getting bad vibes from him. He has got to go before he can cause any more damage. My connection with Ellie is already proving fruitful. I hope I can harvest at some point

Raffy

I finally did it. I've messaged everyone in this game. I blame Jay that I have to talk to all these people. It's too much for my small brain. I do not get good vibes from Cormac at all. I think he's a threat to my game for sure. Hopefully, the other tribe sees his bad vibes and take him out. Otherwise, I'll have to do it myself

Dylan C

How does one socialize again? I keep starting a lot of convos with the standard "Hi! How are you?" because I don't want to come off too strong. But on the flip side, I don't want to seem like I'm boring and can't hold a conversation, either. Video confessional with more to come soon.

Dylan C

https://youtu.be/MeQwz9yEPuM

Sierra

I'm feeling pretty good about where I am in the game right now. I have a few different alliances, which puts me in a pretty good spot in terms of navigating the game at this point in time. I feel closest right now to John and Cormac -- both of whom are in two of my alliances and both of whom have approached me for a final two. I've taken a page from Rob Cesternino and Stephen Fishbach's book and said yes to anyone who approaches me with an alliance. However, right now I'm definitely sticking with my first one over anyone else -- Cormac, Zoe, John and myself. We added Keith as a fifth to have a majority, too... but the four is where it's at for me!

Dylan C

me: I'm just being pessimistic but we're probably going to tribal us: [lost the challenge]

I love jinxing shit

Cormac Marek

My frail body shivers in utter delight. A romance brews between the tips of my eyebrows. Who goes into the strange night without protection? Only the few with their shields split between the castor iron. I crackle through the frozen tundra on my broom stick. Powers have ceased to scoot me over the ground. This is not a real broom stick. Yet I run with the branch between my thighs through the snow, cackling like a wild beast. A foot I go. Smoke wanders through the dried leaves above my glowing head. Moonlight reflects upon my smooth skin like a shining river stone. Joyous delight I cannot barely contain! I peek my eyes through the thick of the trees to see the shadowy outlines of Maynor and Stephen. I recognize them by their ignorance. Most say bliss can be found in this state of delusion but I chose a different path. Not one of foolish misdeeds, careless endeavors. My wet tongue grazes my lips in anticipation. Watching them like an owl to a mouse. Snow has turned black beneath my toe nails. Is this a sign from the Gods above? Those retched beings who guide me? Yes, must be. My eyes widen. They must be struck down like sandpaper to wood. Dice are in my pocket. I am ready to roll my numbers. Two fours roll out into the snow pile. I do not know these numbers. Unfamiliar to my mind. My third eye quivers. Oh! I will take the risk even if the dice deceive me. These two figures will be the next to go. Drug limp through the snow as I whack them and go. 

Cormac Marek (code 23)

I am stranded in Iceland marooned on a tundra. This bloody tribe has only built a flimsy shack in the past twenty-four hours. Utter blasphemy. They should all have letters sown into their clothes for this offence. I need comfort. Howling winds ripen my cheeks right up like a banana placed atop a raw lime. Tears roll down my rigid face at the thought of sleeping another night out here. Last moon cycle I huddled up next to Zoe and Jonathan. Our body heat kept us warm. Sierra was wonderful to listen to as the stars shone above. Telling jokes, laughing at our very human humor together as a group. All except Jack. That man of firm muscles. He has been off outside the shack in the middle of the night humming like a mad man. Ridiculous behavior unfit for the royalty that lied within the shack’s walls heaped up like a pile of ash. His mouth uttering obscene things. Jack often rambles about the craziest affairs. How his mother was born in Russia. Her heritage in Romania. How his cousin once cut a piece of his ankle off in a mud fight. Jack was insane. Zoe and I often spoke of this in the shack. Ah! Too simpleton of a name. Shack. Makes me want to puke. I stood in the center of the shelter, spun around ten times in a row, shouted for joyous applause and then sat back down. They all watched me as I deliberated the name of the shack. “It shall be heard on this wicked day of the 16th calendar year that this shack in which we sit in shall be hereby dubbed, ‘Cranklins Buzzom.’ Oh yes! How they all whooped, cheered and hollered. John gave me a necklace made out of rabbit bones for the courage it took me to come up with a name. Zoe threw dead leaves on my bald head to make the occasion sweet like candy. I danced in the middle while we all touched fingers together. We spent the next hour swaying back and forth. Moving our bodies like the dandelions in spring. All but Jack. Wild men do wild things to their own wild needs. He was out once more humming to himself. I could see him through the glorious arms of my tribemates. “Mm Vonderful Everyone!” My voice was cracked now from rampant speeches, shouting on till sunrise about squash soup and the what it means to die. Where do we go when we wake up? What do dreams mean? Zoe has given me supple answers to satisfy my philosophical exuberance. Cormac Marek (code wow)Golden crowns are placed gently over our graceful heads. I sit atop a throne of melting gold. It oozes between my grasp. Silver stretches through my veins like rapids. Those who whisper pleasurable things in my ears bring me great news! I lay back in a beach of three alliances. White sand soft to the touch. Ellie and Joseph have taken me in as their own. Raffy presents me with platters of succulent grapes. My teeth crush the flesh of the fruit for sacred matrimony. Sierra has a seat beside me on the throne made of feathers. Her words float with mine like a bird that takes flight. Zoe is equal in measure, following accordance to the laws I have sown. A core three to dominate the world among us. My strong hands rattle at a steel chain. Links that draw down from my throne all the way to a pit that holds the unclean. Within this dirt pit lies four individuals. They are imprisoned for the time being. Jack’s chain collar around his neck holds him in a firm foundation. Maynor has given up trying to dig his way out of the pit in recent days. From time to time the royalty of the palace gawk over the pit in giggles. Our laughter and pointed fingers at those who do not wish to play. They won’t engage in the grand game! How dare they! Stephen is our jester. Hopping around on two feet. I hold Kieran in my lap, petting like I would a new puppy. Our dinner parties are the most jubilant! My closest allies sit at the front of the long table with me. We throw food at Jack on occasion. “Oh, ha. Ha. Yes! Why my darling do you speak of me?” Justin started to fall of his chair. “I did not say a thing Cormac! Please don’t throw the gorgeous rotten tomato at my body again!” I am furious! Purple faced! “How dare you! You are from Spain! Timmy is hiding there and you refuse to tell me! Take him away!” Spit drools down my chin. John grabs Justin by the ribcage and drags him out of the marble hall. “My week is ruined now you insulant foolish people! All except you my dears.” I turn to Zoe and Sierra to compete in our secret handshake. After which I stand a top the long table to proclaim my frustrations. “Find Timmy! Bring him to me in one piece! Go now! Hurry! My belly can’t wait much longer!” God am I full. Stuffing was thick this morning. Raffy must have put extra butter in the food again.  

Ellie

So, Bitch is a little scared. I didn’t preform well but I was at a debate tournament. Also if we’ve learned anything from my last game it’s that I’m good with persuasion so I’m asking around to get names and Kieran hasn’t really been social or a help in challenges so I’m leaning towards that choice but we shall see

Ellie

I have nothing against Kieran personally, he just seems like the Gigi of this season. Although I hope to god that my tribe is not a mea repeat

Ellie

We’re trying to play calmly this time, I’m letting the names come to me. I’m throwing names out there without actually saying the names and I’m proud of myself, fuck you marie lmaooo

Ellie

I just realized that I’m the only girl on my tribe wtf, I don’t like that. We’ll live tho

Maynor

Its been two days since cup challenge and my arms are still kinda sore. Unloading the truck yesterday was not fun at all. But im glad that my hard effort helped us win immunity. Everyone else dod amazing in their parts. I really like my tribe. Im currently talking to Zoe, Cormac (think i misspelled it, im sorry) and Stephen. Hopefully im good socially that im not an easy out. I need to continue on my idol search

Raffy

I got chosen to participate in Joseph's and Ellie's idol hunts. I am very grateful for the position because it means, out of everyone, they got the best vibes from me. This is a good sign that my social game is carrying me. Hopefully that means I can trust them later. I gave Ellie the advantage path because I plan on working with her in the future, so it'd be best if I had an advantage on my side. Since I do not really talk to Joseph but like him, I gave him a dead end. Better than getting a disadvantage in my opinion. I cannot believe we lost the challenge, but I guess I should believe considering that people didn't seem to try or care. It frustrates me that Ellie and Kieran did not even try on the challenge. That is just so ugly. My vote will probably go to Kieran because he's barely active whereas Ellie is. Plus, I want to use Ellie as my ally for the future. Let's see how that goes. I think the group consensus will be Kieran as Ellie and Justin both have told me so. 

John

oh my god my plan worked. not only did we win, but i didn’t get the clue. i DEFINITELY did not want that target on my back, especially this early. but the downside of all of this is that i seriously don’t know who we would go after if we lose the next challenge, so that’s great. love that.

Cormac Marek (code fisa)

Frivolous swirls of insanity encompass my legs. They run where I tell them not to go, they climb where I dare not go. Storms are a brew in the far horizon. Delightful beckons to the ship’s quarters. Out on this dangerous sea lies two heartfelt apologies. Maynor has come to me in rags. Sweat, mucky, like a swine before dinner time. Slop to the finest hour. I have just caught word that Sierra may have former allegiances to the British crown. Here on our swamp ship of misfits we do not find the posh so delectable. Timmy is still beyond the narrow ocean hiding with his mystical forces. My greatest foe, my closest lover. Two woven in with the other. My chair is plastered with the skulls of those come to perish. Eye sockets whirling with squirming worms. “I thought you knew what I wanted Maynor! I want Timmy’s head on a platter! Get out of my sight before I have to bring Keith into my bedchambers to whip you again! Ten lashes for each word spoken against me!” Maynor retreats off into the underbelly of my ship. “Come here my love, my sweet seashell.” Zoe draws herself behind my shoulder and rolls out a scroll of activity. “Sierra was Timmy’s long-lost lover. I have seen it in my prophesies at sunrise. She knows Maynor from a past life and both of the Dylan folk!” Zoe gasps at the pure horror of her own revelation. I spit out my roast mutton in agony. A bone is stuck in my throat. “I’m choking on my own dispositions!” 

Salt spreads through my open mouth as I stare gaping at the dark sea. Where will this lead our ship? Will a betrayal bubble from below the surface? Will Davy Jones come to imprison me in his locker? Only blood, time, and friction will show the path ahead. 

cormy marek

Gameplay analysis: 

From day one I made sure to message every single person. This would make sure I was in on that first batch of important alliances. 

By doing so Joseph contacted me and brought Ellie + Sierra into a cross-tribal alliance. 

The Worms Alliance consisted of a solid four with myself, Zoe, John, and Sierra.

This made sure I was inside the vote decisions. 

Then I made sure to solidify my alliances with Sierra and Zoe to be made stronger. 

The Frozen Five happened without my knowing. I believe Zoe invited me. This only added Keith to the equation who we need for a majority. 

Then I caught word Sierra already knew Maynor, Timmy, and Dylan from past games. This meant that I had to now connect with Maynor more so he could recommend me to Sierra. He said he had not spoken to her yet but that could be a lie. 

Raffy seems like someone I could drag into our numbers at a swap. Our cross-tribal alliance makes things sweeter. 

I’m trying to pull a Noura so I can be drug into the merge but at the same time engaging in forward game chat with Zoe, Sierra, and John as to not seem like a drifter. 

Right now I am trying to pull Keith closer to me. Jack is in outer space. We don’t know where he is. 

So in Melrakki I am in on the majority, core, and inner workings. 

Jack is on the outs. Maynor might be in cahoots with Sierra. Stephen has not made strong connections yet. 

Kieran, Dylan R, and Timmy are not speaking with me yet. Odd considering we could swap at any time. I need their numbers on my side. 

I shared the clue in One World to put the target off my back and give everyone equal opportunity. I do not want the idol so it works in my favor. We shall see how the next challenge goes. 

Ellie

Seeing as I’m the youngest (well, I assume I am) and the only girl on my tribe I feel like the little sister, and I will definitely use that to my advantage 

Timmy

Ellie literally messaged me hi and the next message was my thoughts on tribal. Like i don’t know you nor would I give you all my thoughts thus far for a name after one hi. Also, I’m about to lose my vote because these slide puzzles are extra.

Dylan C

https://youtu.be/zPAsozK6pqY

Ellie

THERES THREE GIRLS IN THIS GAME WE NEED TO STAY STRONG

Joseph (survivor Iceland Winner)

I made a nice cross-streams alliance with Elle, cormac, and Sierra. I didn’t get to the idol. Poopy. But I have some ideas in the works. But we need to win at least one immunity before I try to get any threats out. Kieran is almost definitely going home. Tonight at tribal, I plan on voting for raffy, because nobody else will. And I don’t want him to feel too safe. Throw some paranoia at him and then I might convince him to join an alliance with me. We shall see. 

Raffy

Ellie is telling me how she's bonding with Zoe over being the only two girls on this tribe. I told her that she should include me in their little alliance that will no doubt be formed between them. Ellie is looking to be more and more of a social threat. I need to keep her close, otherwise I might find myself on the other side of a majority alliance following her.

Justin

So, my tribe is pretty chill. I don't really have anything negative to say about anyone thus far. Besides Raffy kinda gives me annoying vibes. Not sure why, but something about him just annoys me. Other than that, Timmy and I get along pretty well, and I can see myself aligning with him in the future. Ellie as well I vibe with pretty good. Everyone else is pretty meh as of now. As of now, I'm only building connects and feeling the vibes of the others. With that, I want to take out the people I'm least connected to, so that I know what's up with everyone. This might be because I find him kinda annoying, but I want Raffy out soon. He definitely is a talker, and I feel like he will try to take my niche in game of being connected with everyone. However, I think it is too early to go at him since I don't want to call the shots too early, and I'm sure people will object to that as the first vote. So for the first tribal, I want to vote out a person who is least connected to everyone to make the tribe more unified, and make sure I'm not the first one out. That person being Kieran. Everyone I have talked to has said his name, so I'm going along cuz that is not my name. Plus, he barely talks to me too so I don't care.

Raffy

It seems that everyone is good with voting Kieran, unless I am getting blindsided which would not be cute. However, I believe that this tribe won't be messy the very first tribal council.

Keith is so desperate to pry information from Ellie and I about tribal council. Like you do not have to know nor do you have to care. He needs to be careful because his prying nature can give off bad vibes to certain people. Though he did tell Ellie that Stephen seems to be on the outs with his tribe. 

cormac marek

Justin just came to me thinking I was in his tribe when in fact we are on different tribes. His tribe is going to council tonight but I'm safe. He thinks we are voting together when I don't even have his vote! Said as long as we stuck together tonight we should be ok. He is going to gasp when he realizes I am not on his tribe! So they are voting for Kieran! Insider knowledge is great. Poor kid. "We should be good, I think we're safe as long as Kieran goes home. Who are you voting for." I told him I was going to vote for Kieran. ZoeCormac and I got really close this morning, and confirmed each other as trusted partners. We have an order for if things go wrong and we have to vote somebody off, but we're also both feeling confident that our alliance is a strong one. I'm not so sure about Maynor, because I feel like he doesn't talk very much. I can't get a read on whether or not he has aligned with other people, and if he ends up getting an idol clue I'm not sure whether or not I'd be able to pull him in, based on a super short conversation we had during the bamboo chopping challenge about aligning after merge.

Stephen

So guess who didnt make a confessional yet? This guy. Oops. So Maynors in my tribe, yay, love that guy, but also eek, good player. Coin toss on whether I try and work with him this game. Cormac or whoever really weirds me out. Sierra seems really cool though I like them. Also this idol hunt system being full of jigsaw puzzles? Iconic.

Jack

I bonded with all gays, so that was fun. Thinking of starting something with Raffy and Ellie after merge, but Cormac and Sierra  and I seem to be good.

[beyondmistland]

Westerosi Worldbuilding Wednesday: Hidden History of the Crownlands: Lost Lore (Part I)

 Letter #1: In certain eras the wealth and power of House Darklyn were so great that Duskendale was called the Eighth Kingdom.

 Letter #2: During the Age of Heroes the wandering warrior Denys I Darklyn built the Dun Fort, which was then only a castle by the coast made of wood. (The timber is said to have been obtained from the Kingswood with the blessing of the Storm King but which one goes unsaid to the frustration of Maesters.)

 Letter #3: Upon the completion of the Dun Fort Denys I handed over the kingship to his eldest son, Steffon I, so that he could resume his travels. Later, when the Dun Fort was destroyed by winter storms Steffon I ordered it rebuilt inland. (He was also the first of three Darklyn kings to wed a daughter of House Hollard, which was descended from Denys I's best friend, Red Alyn.)

 Letter #4: Alas, the Dun Fort was destroyed yet again when pirates out of Blackstone, Crow Isle, and Driftwood descended upon the castle with bronze and fire during the reign of Steffon's grandson, Gyles I Darklyn, who responded by rebuilding the castle once more, this time with a wooden palisade as well as a spiked ditch.

 Letter #5: Two generations later however pirates took the Dun Fort by storm, making off with dozens of smallfolk as well as King Hubard I, who spent the rest of his days (and reign) a hostage for his family's good behavior.

 Letter #6: When Hubard I died his son, Jaremy I, did not immediately seek vengeance but instead ordered the Dun Fort be razed and rebuilt, this time using stone rather than wood. The king's patience was rewarded when another attack by pirates was repelled during the time of his son, Symon I, who did not wait for them to return a fourth time. (It is said this final incarnation of the Dun Fort was built by Jym the Journeyman, who is said to have been the self-declared rival of Brandon the Builder. Unlike Brandon however Jym never became a king and his most famous works (Brightwater Keep, Starpike, Stone Hedge, Yronwood) never attained the same regard as those of House Stark's founder.)

 Letter #7: Having chosen to take the fight to them Symon I forged an alliance with Stokeworth, Rosby, Stonedance, and Tarth. (Whether or not the Storm King had sanctioned Stonedance's involvement is a matter of conjecture however.)

 Letter #8: The Dun Fort, Stokeworth, and Rosby would provide the men. Stonedance and Tarth the ships to ferry them across Blackwater Bay.

 Letter #9: Attacking in the dead of winter Symon I took the enemy unawares, seizing their ships and putting every last one of them to the sword.

 Letter #10: In the aftermath of this a quarrel broke out between the Darklyns and Masseys over ownership of the three islands, which was settled by the Treaty of Blackstone, which granted ownership of the islands to the Darklyns in exchange for the Masseys being granted free passage through the Gullet. (The King of Tarth on the other hand was simply given his choice of the war spoils.)

 Letter #11: Blackstone, Crow Isle, and Driftwood were then given by Symon I to three of his younger sons and thus they became known as the Three Sons. Their claim to the islands was not undisputed however given that Clawmen as well as pirates out of the Stepstones both sought possession of them in the centuries that followed. (As an aside I should mention that Houses Darke, Darkwood, and Dargood all descend from these younger sons.)

 Letter #12: During this epoch smallfolk, hearing of the Dun Fort's newfound wealth, began to migrate east, the trickle becoming a flood when Dontos I Darklyn offered free, untaxed land to an would-be settler, such that a new set of walls had to be built further out to accommodate all the people who took up his offer, which in the eyes of many a Maester marks the true beginning of the town known till now as Duskendale.

 Letter #13: Jon I Darklyn took Rosby and Stokeworth. His son, Robin I, in turn, extended his writ all the way to the northern shore of the Blackwater Rush, bringing House Darklyn to the zenith of its power prior to the coming of the Andals.

 Letter #14: With the ascension of Robin I's grandson, Roland I, however, the Darklyns fell into a decline, starting with three failed invasions of Crackclaw Point and the subsequent loss of Crow Isle, which was then followed by a long, ruinous war with Maidenpool that culminated in the Storm King, Monfryd I, seizing both towns. (This last conflict also led to the loss of both Blackstone and Driftwood, hence why today all three cadet branches of House Darklyn can be found in Duskendale itself.)

 Letter #15: Upon the death of Monfryd I the Darklyns drove his Stormlanders from Duskendale with the help of House Buckwell. (The founder of House Buckwell was Gawen Storm, the bastard son of Monfryd I, who chose to serve the Darklyns in exchange for legitimization despite having been made Warden of the Blackwater Rush by his father.)

 Letter #16: This triumph was short-lived though for no sooner had the Darklyns declared themselves kings again but House Hook descended upon them from the west, sacking first Duskendale, then Stokeworth and Rosby before being defeated by Jack Wendwater in a bloody battle that lasted well into the night, saving the Stormlands from any threats on that front.

 Letter #17: When House Hook began to founder a century later the Darklyns were the first to rebel and to that end allied with the Masseys of Stonedance, who had themselves just broken away from the Stormlands.

 Letter #18: Gormon I Massey built a new curtain wall around Stonedance. His son, Wallace I, in turn, raised it even higher when he became King of the Hook as the Masseys were wont to style themselves. Wallace's grandson, Justin I, on the other hand, improved the walls by making them smooth and sloped, the better to resist siege engines. A wise decision as it happened for when Justin's own son, Josua I, took up the crown he found himself besieged thrice by no less than two Storm Kings. Josua I later gave way to his grandson, Gormon II, who built watchtowers and holdfasts throughout Massey's Hook. (These would be instrumental in repelling future attacks by both the Storm Kings as well as their erstwhile allies, the Darklyns, who had upon retaking the Three Sons given them over to House Baratheon, an ancient house native to Blackstone.) Gormon II's son, Maldon I, would then take the unprecedented step of building a royal fleet to protect shipping lanes to and from Massey's Hook, a feat made possible by his Tyroshi wife's dowry of twenty ships. All three of his sons (Maldon II, Josua II, Adrian I) expanded the royal fleet such that his grandson (Maldon III) commanded more ships than even the Arbor upon his ascension. Maldon III's great-grandson, Triston I, saw more profit in using his forebear's ships for plunder however and so became the first Reaver King, the others being his son, Guncer I, his grandson, Maldon IV, his great-grandson, Gormon III, his great-great-grandson, Adrian II, and lastly, his great-great-great-grandson, Justin II Milk-Eye, whose son, Josua III Softspear was the last King of the Hook, at which point the Andals came. (Most Maesters claim that House Massey's loss of kingship can be traced back to the personal weakness of Josua III but a few argue that other factors played a significant, if not equal, role in the matter.)

 Letter #19: Whilst Crackclaw Point and Duskendale held out against the Andals when they crossed the Narrow Sea, the rest of the Crownlands, as those lands are now called, were not so fortunate.

 Letter #20: All the same, the Andals' coming was nothing short of a disaster for House Darklyn, which lost the Three Sons yet again as well as most of their lands to the north and south, leaving them vulnerable to the deprivations of both Crackclaw Point and Sharp Point. Thus, while Duskendale waned for centuries Maidenpool waxed rich and powerful.

 Letter #21: In the end it was events outside of Duskendale's control that brought an end to its decline. First, the Storm Kings, Borros I, Borros II, and Lyonel I slowly retook Massey's Hook, spelling an end to its independence once and for all. Second, Benedict I Justman seized Maidenpool, which for its defiance was stripped of seven-tenths of its wealth. (Borros I was known as "the Black" due to his infamous cruelty, which was said to include a love for burning criminals at the stake.)

 Letter #22: Far from the center of most conflicts Duskendale slowly recovered under the protection of House Justman such that when the line of Benedict the Bold was later extinguished by Ironborn House Darklyn was able to reassert its authority. In the age that followed the Darklyns reached the height of their wealth and power.

 Letter #23: No less than seven women have ruled Duskendale in their own right, the two most notable of these being Bethany I, who never married, and Meredyth III, who took up the crown when she was well over sixty years old.

 Letter #24: The Darklyns would often pit Highgarden and Storm's End against one another so as to maintain their independence. Other times they would ally with the Teagues or Gardeners to fight the Durrandons. A fair few would even cunningly offer to serve as neutral arbitrators between these three realms.

 Letter #25: Duskendale under some kings would likewise serve as a sanctuary for dynastic exiles. For instance, Gyles VIII hosted both Joffrey Durrandon, son of Robert II, and Renly Durrandon, son of Lyonel VIII, at different times during the generations long conflict known as the War of the Nephews. (For the sake of completeness I should point out that the War of the Nephews only came to an end when Princess Joanna Durrandon wed Prince Gowen Durrandon, with whom she had no less than seventeen children over the course of their decades-long marriage. (Princess Joanna was the last living descendant of Robert II whereas Prince Gowen was the last living descendant of Lyonel VIII.))

 Letter #26: The warrior-king, Denys XXIII, extended his writ north to Maidenpool and south to the northern shore of the Blackwater Rush. His son, Gyles X, in turn, would build castles atop the three hills overlooking the bay.

 Letter #27: During the time of Gyles X's grandson, Hubard IX, these castles would grow into small towns.

 Letter #28: To protect them as well as the trade they depended upon, Hubard IX's son, Steffon V hired a Myrish fleet with which he retook the Three Sons yet another time.

 Letter #29: The Darklyns had far less success whenever they attempted to conquer Crackclaw Point, which repelled thirty-three invasions and slew twelve kings if the chronicles are to be believed.

 Letter #30: Alas, all good times must come to an end and the same proved true for the Darklyns. When war broke out between Maidenpool and Duskendale the Darklyns made the mistake of reaching out to Highgarden for support, which caused Storm's End to take up arms on the opposite side instead. In the one-sided war that then followed the Crownlands were decimated and the three small towns overlooking Blackwater Bay utterly destroyed, leaving Duskendale powerless to oppose the Valyrians when they took the Three Sons for good and all. Before the Darklyns could even begin to recover from these losses, however, they found themselves conquered first by the Storm King, Arlan III, and then by the Iron King, Halleck Hoare, both of whose onerous taxes crippled Duskendale for a whole generation. (Many Maesters wonder to this day what might have happened had Duskendale reached out to the Eyrie for support rather than Highgarden but it does us no good to dwell on roads not taken so I shall refrain from repeating their arguments.)

As always, share, comment, and critique.