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scapegrace74-blog · 2 years

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Love Stained, Chapter 9

A/N Well, here we are at the last chapter of Love Stained. I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read, like, kudo, reblog or comment on this story. I was nervous to post it at first, because I thought a story about a Jamie who was not only not a virgin, but a surrogate, would cause a minor uproar.

The entire work can now be found on my A03 page.

Six months later

Jamie admired the diaphanous wings of the dragonfly, trellised by veins, twice frozen: once by the tree sap into which it had inadvertently flown thousands of years ago, and again by the shutter of his camera. Enlarged to monumental proportions, they seemed to convey some deeper message. About the architecture of nature, the viscosity of memory, the duality of time that could rush forward and remain frozen simultaneously. Or perhaps he was just being maudlin.

“You can still change your mind and let me list it.” John came to stand beside his friend, admiring the rich tones of the photo.

“This one’s no’ for sale,” Jamie said, not for the first time. It was a foolish impulse, but the photograph reminded him of Claire. Because the fossil belonged to her, because he’d taken it that evening at the bothy when she’d first bared herself to him, but mostly because the amber was the exact shade of her eyes.

“Pity,” John continued, “because it’s the only one left.”

“What?” Jamie’s head whipped towards his agent who was wearing a smug grin.

“The other nine all sold. Estelle just closed on the last one. Congratulations, Jamie. Selling out your first Chelsea gallery show is remarkable. Doing so at the opening, well…” John slapped him on the shoulder, before nudging him with his elbow. “Aren’t you happy you finally bit the bullet and made the move to New York?”

“Aye, happy,” Jamie lied.

***

Walking down the sidewalk the morning Claire left him sleeping in hotel sheets that smelled of her skin, Jamie had pulled out his phone and called his agent, directing him to set up representation with a Chelsea art gallery. Two months’ later he was unpacking his camera gear and a duffle bag of possessions in a simple clapboard cabin tucked behind the windswept dunes of the Long Island seashore, paid for by the proceeds of his years as a sex surrogate. Except for the payment from Claire, which he’d refused to accept from Geillis during their final meeting, finally insisting that she donate it to a local woman’s shelter.

“And what shall I tell Claire if she asks?” Geillis inquired as Jamie rose to take his leave.

“Tell her…” Jamie’s voice stumbled on the rocks in his throat, forcing him to clear it and start over. “Tell her that I’m grateful for everything that she gave me.”

***

“Well, if you’re going to persist in your strange attachment to this photograph, then please come network a bit,” John urged. Jamie reluctantly followed him across the room towards a cluster of art critics and journalists, all wearing variations of the same black outfit. He felt like a sideshow attraction in his Fraser tartan and crisp white button-down that he wore for formal occasions, but John insisted it only added to his ‘cachet’.

“Smile a bit, would you? Bat those bonnie blue Scottish eyes and at least pretend to be enjoying your wildly successful evening. Jamie?”

Midway across the room, Jamie’s universe slammed to a halt. Near the door stood a slender woman. Flouting artistic convention, she wore a citrine dress, a sunbeam bursting forth against the monochromatic tedium of the rest of the room. Her hair was a lazy tornado of dark curls juxtaposed against the pale cumulus of her skin. Feline eyes skipped eagerly around the crowd, searching for someone with a hopeful longing that he yearned to assuage.

She caught sight of him, smiling tremulously. His concrete feet stayed rooted to the spot as she approached, frozen in time as surely as an insect trapped in amber.

Instead of greeting him, the woman turned to admire the photograph on a nearby wall. It was the ram’s horn, every bump and fissure topographical in its hyper-detail.

“It’s almost hypnotic, isn’t it?” Her voice was that strange combination of wispy and sure that he’d tried to recreate in his mind during the hundred lonely nights since he last heard it. “Like a familiar song played in a slightly different key.”

Jamie grunted his agreement, still not able to believe what was happening.

“But there’s something melancholy about it too. A homesickness, maybe?” she continued.

“Desiderium,” he spoke at last, the word gritty in his throat. “A grieving desire for something lost.”

“That’s the name of the exhibit, I believe. I read about it in the Sunday Times back in Edinburgh.”

“And ye came all the way from Scotland for the opening?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well,” she shrugged helplessly, “they’re very good photographs. And I wanted to meet the artist.”

She turned towards him, and it was then that he could read the uncertainty in her uncommon eyes.

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp,” she emphasized the last name as she extended a hand in greeting.

“James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser,” he replied with equal precision. As their palms met something certain and infinite settled over him, like oil on the choppy waters of his soul.

“Jamie?” With a jolt he realized they were still standing in the gallery, unable to look away or release their hold on one another, and that his agent had been watching their exchange with sharp interest.

“Aye, sorry John. This is Claire Beauchamp, from back home. Claire, may I introduce John Grey, my verra good friend and agent.”

After some polite chatter that he could barely hear over the rushing of his blood, John gave him a significant look and excused himself. Jamie glanced with yearning towards the gallery door, then back at the cluster of reporters who John was now working with practiced ease.

“I really need to…” he apologized.

“Go,” Claire gestured. “I’m the one who dropped in on your big day unannounced.”

“I’d verra much like to…” he paused, worrying his tongue along the back of his teeth and searching his memory for the near-forgotten protocol. “Would ye like to get a drink with me? After the show? I shouldna be verra long.”

A smile dawned across her face, warming him as surely as the rays of the summer sun.

“I’d like that very much. It will give me a chance to see the rest of your work. You’re incredibly talented, Jamie.”

It was the first time she’d called him by his real name. A rivulet of hope burst through the dam of asylum he’d built around his heart. Still, he was loathe to turn his back on her, lest she disappear once again.

“What is it?” Claire asked when he didn’t release her.

“Ye’ll wait for me?” It came out as a plea. He wasn’t just talking about their plans for the night. There was a minefield of pain and memory between him and their happily ever after. He was terrified she would lose patience and give up on him before he could cross it.

“I promise.”

#my writing #fanfic #outlander

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littlemagics · 9 months

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I haven't posted in a while. I think it's because I get so caught up in whether or not a thing is a Little Magic or a Gratitude or a Glimmer or Some Other Thing and then I leave it be. But today I went down to the River and it's been a few weeks since I went down to the River and what I saw there and sat with and experienced and was honored to witness down at the River was all of this and all of the Little Magics in between all of this. One Great Blue Heron One Bald Eagle One Kingfisher who tried to land a meal twice Two Ducks of an unknown variety Two Green Herons Three Dragonflies Countless Damselflies A bright shiny emerald green Beetle A Spider A leaf caught in a Spider's web Stairs to another world An Artist hard at work Dappled shade Signs A Bank(?) Swallow Medicine Families A Disco Ball Shine under a Log Grandmother Beech's children getting tall in the bright Sun My own Exhale

#semantics #fishers #the River #Medicine #birds #insects #winged ones #webs #growth #breath #healing #portals #art #light

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yesteryearsnows · 1 year

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Hyperfixation post: I’m really stumped

Today I saw some old friends and was prowling through the vintage and antique stores in our downtown area. The antique store was neat and full of old items, but too pricey for me personally. A lot of beautiful costume jewelry though!

The vintage store was definitely more my vibes. I got really tempted by some items like a vintage cloisonné bracelet and cool clothes

But what really caught my eye was the costume jewelry. My friend and I looked over a lot of vintage jewelry posts and learned a lot about the desirable brands, so my eyes were peeled.

I ended up getting two brooches. The first one I believe is an 80s-90s art nouveau inspired pin with dragonflies, clouds and lily pads, plus a real amethyst stone.

The second one is likely an 80s revival reproduction of an art deco filigree bar brooch! You can tell the real art deco by the clasp type, and the filigree is also much finer made.

The piece that really got me fucked up and obsessed with google right now is this painting. I ended up coming back for it after leaving because I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s clearly 1970s, it’s an original painting and framed nicely, but I can’t find anything about the artist or style. Their signature is hard to make out too. I may have to accept I’ll never know. All the dealer knew was she got it in an estate sale in Arizona. I love it though. California poppies, lovely balance and sensibility. It could easily be too saccharine but it’s not. And the painter clearly had some skill. If anyone has any idea, please please help.

#vintage #antiquing #1970s art

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batmanwholxughs · 1 year

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@acostalis || "You... You are The Batman, aren't you?" Darner stared at the tall, shadowy figure. "I have... drawn you. Here. It is not colored, but it is... you, right?"

Through the bars of their cell, they presented the other a charcoal sketch of The Batman of Gotham, from a newspaper photograph which they'd caught glimpses of one day, when one of their handlers carried it into work with the rest of his files. The headline had spoken of the hero, Batman, who had rescued hostages from captivity.

They'd looked up to The Bat ever since. He must be like them, after all. He was a bat and a man. They were a dragonfly and a human.

"I hoped you'd come to see me, one day."

{ ⛓ } – IGNORANCE IS BLISS to the sheltered, only a temporary shield from the insufferable terrors lingering beyond. Those crawling against the glass, coercing whispers of unfortunate truths into the unwilling ears of its victims. But ignorance was PAIN, in actuality, a constant consuming agony that rendered anxiety and paranoia unto individuals. It was their undoing, and made those individuals so delightfully VULNERABLE. This creature wasn’t exempt from that despite nightmarish appearances making one question its intelligence – far from it. Their saviour was here, contorted into something else than the idolised hero from which they were inspired to create the drawing.

Alabaster fingertips and ebony claws outstretched, taking claim of the paper to properly observe it. The Batman – HA HA HA! Maybe fate was looking up, and changed its impression of the one who laughs at long last. Delivering an opportunity right at his feet, in the form of an amalgamation of spliced genetics, and cluelessness. Something to mould into his own shape, perhaps. Despite the LAUGHTER of amusement that excused itself from his lips, Laughs glanced upwards, scanning the creature through dark metal of their urges. Desires FOR FREEDOM, and reassuringly wrapped a hand around one of the bars. Squeezing as if it were the throat of an innocent, while he admitted, “ That’s me, buddy! You really caught my GOOD side in this picture, but look at you. ”

BLOOD tarnished the ground nearby, the bodies of security tainting the facility infiltrated by the former vigilante. From the subject’s perspective, there was nothing, but at the right angle, murder bespoke the reality of the Batman Who Laughs. “ Don’t take it as shock, or judgement, trust me. I’m IMPRESSED, really. ” Leaning inward, that already broad grin SPREAD. “ What’s such a capable artist doing in a tiny cell, withering away for? You should be out there living your LIFE, right? Let me guess, you’re too dangerous to be out on the streets, given any kind of luxury like you deserve it. So they made you into a domestic pet on a leash.”

PITIFUL. The power bestowed to his presence alone was invigorating, arrogance practically blinding around his shape. Laughs methodically tapped a nail against the bar, unafraid of the closeness he acquired. He stared head on.

“ You want Batman to save you? Well, I’m RIGHT HERE. ”

#knock knock! // asks #VERSE 1 // dark multiverse #acostalis #rubs my greedy little hands #you of course don't need to match this lenght LMAO #i just like to ramble

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ptpiner · 2 years

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Jason aldean staring at the sun

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#Jason aldean staring at the sun

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dansnaturepictures · 2 years

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13/08/22-Curlew Sandpipers and more at Farlington Marshes and bits at home

We went to Farlington Marshes early this afternoon to look for the Curlew Sandpipers. I was thrilled that we managed to see a couple, they are such smart and charming birds and one I do have a soft spot for. A key species of summer and early autumn for me. We saw them with help from BradNDadBirding who I knew from Twitter who it was great to meet and Jason which we were so thankful for. The Curlew Sandpipers were my first of the year, seen in very similar conditions to my last year tick another wader the Lesser Yellowlegs on a day during a heatwave at a coastal reserve Lymington that time last month, Curlew Sandpiper is my 191st bird species of the year. That makes my year list outright my fourth highest ever behind my 200 in 2019, 198 in 2018 and 197 in 2021 now overtaking my 2017 total which feels great. I took the sixth picture in this photoset a record shot of the Curlew Sandpiper and a Dunlin in a stunning view we got of one.

Other bird highlights at Farlington today included big flocks of Oystercatcher seen flying and gathered on the dry parts of the lake standing out and bronze Black-tailed Godwits both creating colourful artistic layers on the landscape. Ringed Plover, lots of Grey Plovers, Avocet, Shelducks including young and great views of Canada Geese with some youngsters and Moorhen stood out too. It’s always nice at this time of the year after perhaps a quieter period for birds to get a coastal site like this and see these types of birds again. I saw a Kestrel well on the way here.

It was a decent bit of time for butterflies too with Red Admiral, Meadow Brown and the obligatory Small Heath for a visit here at this time of year that we often make all nice to see. I caught sight of a dragonfly beside the reedbed quickly, probably a hawker. There were some nice flowers about including ragwort and dock including seen nicely near each other, bits of teasel and wild parsnip. I also enjoyed seeing my first rock samphire for a while a few clumps clinging to the sea wall, a nice one to see at this time of year. The glistening sea, summery reedbeds, brown fields in the distance and green vegetation were key parts of more lovely views to see on a scorching and sunny day the blue looking so nice. I took the first five pictures in this photoset of views here today.

Wildlife Sightings Summary for Farlington: My first Curlew Sandpipers of the year, two of my favourite birds the Shelduck and Little Egret with lots of the latter about, one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral, Mallard, Teal, Moorhen, Mute Swan well, Canada Goose, Black-headed Gull, Herring Gull, Grey Heron, Ringed Plover, Grey Plover, Lapwing, Curlew seen nicely, Dunlin, Oystercatcher, Redshank, Black-tailed Godwit, I believe Greenshank, Linnet, Meadow Pipit, Pied Wagtail, great views of Goldfinch and Starling in decent numbers, Carrion Crow, Meadow Brown, Small Heath and the dragonfly.

At home today I liked seeing flowers, flowering and plants in general in the sunshine with buddleia of different colours including the bit in the ninth picture in this photoset, hebe, fuchsia, sunflower, sweet William, black-eyed Susan, a nice dahlia, geraniums, cosmos some or ones like it shown in the seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset I took today, the great willowherb on the balcony and others looking nice. Seeing the recently emerged agrimony a flower that fascinates me and one of the first I learnt shining in the sunlight was great this afternoon in the back garden. I also enjoyed seeing a bee on the buddleia with great views of House Sparrow, Goldfinch and Collared Dove in the back garden and on the balcony feeders seeing young Goldfinch well again. I liked seeing the plume moth in the tenth and final picture in this photoset in the living room. I saw another Hedgehog well in the front garden underneath the camellia bush before bed last night. It was nice to enjoy all the green leaves shining in the sunlight again too.

Some clouds built up this evening to allow for some glorious orange and red sky scenes towards sunset. And when the sun was making the sky orange I was thrilled to notice a group of Starlings across the top of the roof visible from my room. At various points in a few minutes of watching they came together with the sweet orange light behind them, and this also made the birds silhouettes. I relished chances to take photos of this with my DSLR camera and big lens, getting the full compliment in four pictures I took in the end I thought; a single Starling in shot, two and then the group with them all close together and the group with them spaced out a bit the latter two both having one below the top of the roof too. This was captivating to watch, allowed me to get the juices flowing a bit for thinking behind taking photos which I felt a fair bit today and it was I believe the best opportunity I’d got for Starlings in this project I’ve had the past three years or so of capturing backlit birds on the roof out the back of which this crucial garden species for us has been a key part of. I enjoyed seeing another Double-striped pug and a plume moth possibly the same one possibly Morning-glory plume tonight and the moon outside looking nice and big and great behind a tree. If it is a Morning-glory plume moth then the two moths tonight were the first two I saw this year back in January which is nice.

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

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Self-indulgent commission

Sketches done by the amazingly talented @citrusro

Secrets

As your name rang through the cold air like a thunderclap, you were once again reminded of the only two secrets you had been able to keep during your time with the company.

First: You were just as good an artist as Bilbo or Ori.

Second: You were - at this point - irrevocably and undyingly in love with that self-same dwarven scribe.

Shoving your sketches under a map hastily, you turned around to meet Thorin’s calm eyes, sparks of amusement dancing on the surface of those still lakes like dragonflies.

“As your superior, I shall requisition those sketches one day,” he warned with a warm chuckle.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, confused and slightly afeared of what he’d do with them.

“Put them in the archives, what else? He’s a good lad,” Thorin’s eyes warmed like winter glaciers thawing into summer springs, “and I’m sure he’d love to discover how much beauty is hidden from his ever-searching gaze.”

Your brows knitted.

“Ori never misses anything,” you protested weakly.

“Hmmm,” Thorin laughed under his breath, “I disagree – respectfully – for he certainly does not see himself the way you do!”

And with those words, Thorin II strolled away – his original question or demand forgotten – with a fading smile on his lips.

As you bundled your secret sketches, testaments to both of your well-kept secrets, into a tight roll to be stowed discreetly between the folds of your bedroll, you caught Kíli’s twinkling eyes and knew that this was not the last you’d hear about it.

I don't know if this counts as writing, but it's at least a nice series of sketches of my darling boy <3

Tags under the cut <3

@myselfandfantasy @shrimpsthings

@yacrimago

@blairsanne

@narniaandthenorth

@fizzyxcustard

@laurfilijames

@legolasbadass

@clumsy-wonderland

@fckmini

#ori #ori the dwarf #the hobbit #fanfiction #art #my virtual gallery #ficlet #GN reader #Ori #thorin oakenshield

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deancaspinefest · 3 months

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Take The Long Way Home

Author: sidewinder | Artist: caught-a-dragonfly (Sarah)

Posting on Monday April 15

Two months ago, the world didn’t end. But for Dean Winchester, who fully expected to sacrifice not just his life but his very soul in order to stop Amara? The celebration has been clouded by the disappearance of his best friend, Cas—the friend he’d started to realize meant more to him than he’d been willing to accept until now. The last anyone’s seen of Castiel was when he was banished from the bunker by Toni Bevell. The Brits swear they don’t have him. Neither Heaven nor Hell claim to know of his whereabouts. All of Dean’s calls, texts and prayers to the angel have gone unanswered, and Dean can’t help but worry that a "Winchester win" has once again come at a terrible price. One day hope finally arrives in a lead from an unexpected if not always trustworthy ally. However finding Cas might end up being only the first step in saving him—not simply from the forces holding him captive, but from the prison of his own mind.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

As Dean approached the galley, he saw the light on there already, meaning he wasn’t the only early bird up and about today. His mood brightened with a momentary spark of hope—Cas rarely slept, and when he was around the bunker, he usually enjoyed hanging around in the kitchen to read or watch cat videos and shit all night on one of their laptops. But Dean’s bubble of hope burst when he saw it was just his brother, sitting there in his sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, chugging a disgusting-looking green smoothie. Sam was no doubt ready to head out on his morning self-imposed torture session—that is, a five-mile run looping around the bunker to Lebanon and back.

Kid seriously had to be the devil’s vessel if he found that kind of physical torment enjoyable.

“Hey,” Dean grunted at his brother.

Sam looked up from his laptop at Dean and nodded. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“You too. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Rarely do.”

Yeah, that was something they had in common. “Anything up?” Dean asked on his way to fill the coffeepot with water.

“Not really. Just restless, I guess. I found a case, maybe. Not that I was looking for one,” Sam added quickly. “But while I was searching for any signs of Cas, or Lucifer, I came across a news story about some strange deaths in Wichita. It’s not far from here, and—”

“If you wanna go hunt whatever it is, go for it,” Dean cut him off. “Take mom. I know she’s itching to get out of here and do somethin’ other than stare at our ugly mugs all day.”

“Dean—”

“No, Sam. I mean it. Until I know where Cas is, I just can’t. My head’s not in the game.” A distracted hunter was a dead hunter. That was the rule their father had drilled into them as soon as they each could carry a weapon, and learn about the things that went bump in the night being real. A week ago, Dean had let Sam talk him into going on a “milk run” hunt to clear out a small vampire nest near Toledo and he’d nearly lost his neck thanks to not fully concentrating on the job at hand.

“Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?” Dean snapped. “Cas has been missing for two months, Sam! We have no idea where he is, if he even—”

Dean cut himself off. He couldn’t say it. Not out loud.

If he even survived.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday April 15)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: sidewinder #artist: caught-a-dragonfly (Sarah)#canon divergent #hurt!Cas #alternate season 12

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Callisto (Part Six - Rescue Site)

This fic seems to be taking forever, but I hope it isn’t reading that way. I had so much fun over the weekend and I still have some fun ahead of me writing one of the core scenes I had planned. I hope you are enjoying reading this.

As always, many thanks to the amazing @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 @janetm74 and @vegetacide as well for all the read throughs and support. Wonderful science officer @onereyofstarlight this bit has one of the places we talked about extensively and wouldn’t exist without your help :D

Again, thank you to all the wonderful peeps who have been reading along and commenting despite the once a week posting schedule. You help keep my enthusiasm alive and you have no idea how much I appreciate every word of encouragement ::hugs you all::

Have a Tracy boy or two on the job :D

-o-o-o-

Scott rolled his shoulders and tried to stretch out the tension that was slowly giving him a headache.

At least now they were moving. This rescue felt like it was taking forever.

Hell, it was the same with most space recues, if even more with this one. The distances involved just went on and on and no matter how fast the Thunderbird, it was slow.

It rankled Scott just a little. The fact that the environment could not be influenced by his impatience.

And Dad…

He shunted the thought aside. Perhaps that was why he scorned the time needed. It gave him far too much time to think.

The tunnel stretched out before him as it had for some time now. The life signs were nearly seven hundred kilometres away from Callisto Base. Usually, this was not a problem. There wasn’t a Thunderbird that couldn’t cover that distance in a short period of time. Even Four could do it at velocities no other underwater craft had ever managed.

But this location was at least two kilometres underground, and while the molepod was always an option, Virgil had vetoed it with the option of travelling via dragonfly through the tunnels. Scott had to agree. They needed far more information before barrelling into an unknown situation, not to mention the difficulties of deploying the molepod in these conditions.

But by this point he was almost ready to jump out and blast a hole in the damned moon to get where they needed to go.

Time. So much damned time.

Too much to think.

His hands shifted on the Dragonfly’s controls spinning her into a dive as the tunnel dipped suddenly. The brilliance of the pod’s forward lights lit up the never-ending cave as clear as daylight.

It sparkled back at him in sharp, stabbing needle-like reflections off the walls that did nothing to improve his headache. He had already set his helmet to shade to protect himself. It was ridiculous to be needing sunglasses this far underground.

Behind him, Virgil was following him at a short distance in Dragonfly Two, his lights just bright enough to light up the red of Scott’s pod.

For some irrational reason Scott wanted his pod to be blue.

The blue of the sky he was currently missing.

He sighed.

Again, too much time to think.

“Another five hundred metres.” Alan’s voice from behind him was the reassurance it always was. Why he felt comforted when his littlest brother was nearby and within reach was something he did not want to examine too much.

A twist of his wrists as the tunnel backed around on itself in a hairpin of a turn and he had to dodge another nest of those weird deformed ice stalactite formations sticking out into their path. “What are we looking at?”

“Looks like another cavern. A big one.”

They had flown through several of those enormous caverns on the way out here already. They acted like junctions, some having multiple tunnels converging on them, every single one a home for more ice formations and that damned reflective rock. It had taken John to get them out of the last one. This place was a damned maze.

Virgil had fortunately come prepared, as always. He was leaving a trail of comms-support beacons behind them as a clear path to return to Callisto Base.

Scott fought the urge to duck as the tunnel suddenly shrunk by several metres and took another swerving turn. Scott spun the pod over one-eighty degrees on her longitudinal axis as her wings nearly scraped the ceiling.

Righting them finally, he couldn’t help but check his monitor to make sure Virgil took the turn safely.

He almost smiled as the green pod behind them flipped in a manoeuvre that no doubt had Gordon yelping in the back seat. He couldn’t help but be proud for just a self-indulgent moment.

But his attention was torn away as his pod suddenly shot into a large open space and the light reflecting off the walls suddenly blinded him.

Alan’s gasp behind him only echoed his own.

Their forward lights were being shot at them in blinding brilliance off the ceiling of the new cave.

That brightness only increased as Virgil’s pod spun into a hover beside them.

Oh god.

Whatever had been in the walls of the tunnels was obviously concentrated here.

He redirected the lamps away from the ceiling only to have the brilliance follow them all the way down the closest wall until he was able to turn the pod towards the most distant wall.

Crystal.

There was crystal everywhere.

The cave walls were covered in spikes of the stuff as it they were inside a giant geode. He had to acknowledge that it was stunningly amazing when it wasn’t ripping his eyeballs out.

But that wasn’t what took his breath away.

As their lamps lowered, they caught the edges of something else.

He turned the lights down towards the floor only to discover he couldn’t see it.

Because it was covered in water.

Fluid, liquid water, the dragonflies causing the faintest of ripples to dance across its surface.

A lake.

Scott’s jaw dropped as he tipped the pod to peer down into the dark water only to have more crystal attempt to stab him in the eye from the depths.

“What the hell?”

Water wasn’t supposed to be able to exist in this environment. He poked at his scanners. Atmospheric levels were the same, ever so thin, providing little to no air pressure or heat to keep the water in this state.

“John? What am I seeing?”

Thunderbird Five did not answer immediately, but the data transmission rate on comms doubled as his space brother reached his fingers into the cave through the pod’s sensors.

“Impossible.”

“That was my thought. Virgil?”

“It’s beautiful.”

Scott’s lips thinned. “Scientific explanation? Gordon?”

“You got me here, bro. But I’m more concerned about those lifesigns.”

Scott frowned and double checked his readout. The two dots registered, glowing strongly at him.

From under the water.

-o-o-o-

Virgil frowned as Scott spun his dragonfly around and returned to the entrance of the cavern. His forward lights lit up only what could be considered a beach where the original tunnel swooped in and connected with the crystal cave. At the base there was only a few scattered crystal formations and Virgil watched as his brother expertly put down without touching a single one.

“Are we going to take a look at the lake?”

Typical. Nearby water body and his fish brother wanted in it.

But Virgil needed more reconnaissance.

And if he was honest with himself, there was just a dash of sightseeing involved. Not much, because of the urgency of the mission, but enough curiosity to send him off on a scout around the cavern.

Crystals that had to be the length of an arm or a leg stuck out from the walls in haphazard directions. Most reflected back clear, but in streaks, as if seeping up a localised mineral, there were ribbons of colour in places – reds, greys, golds, pinks. His scanners spat back that it was simply quartz, silicon dioxide, but he had never seen a formation like this.

Which was understandable as this was an alien landscape with vastly different environs to those of Earth. The artist in him was literally stunned, while the scientist valiantly fought for a reason.

He swooped around the edges of the cavern, his lamps lighting up brilliance as he went. The cave proved to be roughly circular, approximately four hundred metres in diameter and about a hundred metres high. He came across two more tunnels leading off it, but all were as dry as the one they had used to enter the cave. Towards the centre, but not quite, the ceiling arched down and what appeared to be a stalactite met a stalagmite to form a column of swirling crystal that looked like something straight out of an art glass exhibition. The ribbons of colour were here too, but this time mostly in a rose pink and a startling blue.

Virgil didn’t have words.

The light playing among the crystals just touched every artistic sense he had and froze them solid.

But there was a mission and those two glowing red dots glared at him from beneath the surface of the lake.

He ran scans of the water. For it was water, mostly, though, certainly not any he would want to drink.

For one thing it was salty, a definite brine solution with a number of minerals including silica in concentrations that defied as much logic as the water’s existence did in the first place.

The difficulty was that the lifesigns weren’t clear. They were in the water, but resolution faded at a very shallow depth and there was a lot of deep depth in places.

“John, can you get any more resolution on these scans? I can’t pinpoint the lifesigns.”

There was a muttered curse on comms that had Virgil arching an eyebrow. “No, I’m sorry, Virgil. Interference is particularly strong in that cavern. We’re working on it, but I don’t have any great hopes.”

“What about a probe? Would that improve the signal?” Virgil blinked as his headache suddenly flared. Ow. Damn. The controls in front of him blurred a moment. Shit!

But then everything righted itself, just leaving an echo of the pain in his head as the headache droned on as it had before.

Maybe his painkillers were wearing off. A glance at the time proved that was far from the case.

He dreaded to think what that would have felt like without them.

“Virg?”

“What?!” Okay, so he was abrupt, but he was busy.

“Hey, hey, calm down. You didn’t answer John. Just checking on you.”

“Virgil, you there?” John’s voice dripped concern.

Shit.

“Sorry. Just got a headache. Need some sleep.”

“I feel you, bro. Want me to pilot?”

“No. No. I’m fine.” He swallowed bile and mentally shook himself. “John, you were saying?”

He could feel Gordon’s eyes on the back of his neck.

“Probe deployed. Target is Burr Crater, which you are directly under at the moment.”

Virgil’s display reported the probe entering Callisto’s atmosphere. He hoped it would give them enough information to act.

Time was ticking.

He spun the pod around and tried to ignore the rainbow of light that was his forward lamps. The flicker, while beautiful, was doing nothing good for his headache at all.

“You sure you’re okay, Virg?”

He pressed his lips together and considered ignoring the question from Gordon. But he knew if he did, his brother would only worry more.

It was a Tracy trait.

“Let’s just get this mission done. We have people who need saving.”

Gordon’s grunt wasn’t a happy one and the chances of Scott being called in on his headache were increasing by the moment.

“I’m fine, Gordon.” He cut the conversation off by dropping the pod rapidly towards the beach where Scott had climbed out and was walking to the water’s edge. Another spin mid-air and Virgil lowered into a rather delicate landing, keeping the pod’s feet away from the crystal formations sticking out of the rock.

Virgil swallowed again before climbing out of the pod. His boots hit solid but glittering rock, damp in the darkness.

Scott and Alan were standing at the water’s edge staring out at the spectacle that the pod lights lit up.

Gordon clambered out behind Virgil and together they both walked over to stand beside their brothers.

“This is so cool!” Alan was obviously excited.

He said it on external comms and the sound travelled across the cavern only to bounce back in so many perfect ‘ool’s Virgil’s eyes widened.

On the spur of that, as the ‘ool’s slowly faded away, he activated his own external comm and sung a single pure C note.

It came back at him from so many different directions it was like a chorus.

“Oh, wow.”

‘Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow, wow…’ It went on, the faint atmosphere sporting just enough density to carry the sound waves.

“That is something, isn’t it?” Scott’s voice was quiet. “The dragonflies made one hell of a racket. We’re going to have to be careful. Wouldn’t want to set up a harmonic that could bring the roof down on us.”

Virgil was still processing. The thought of playing his piano in this cave was just mind boggling.

“Dad says the Base scientists are having some kind of scientific fit over this place.” A grunt. “I’m more concerned about those two lifesigns.” He paused. “John, any luck with the probe?”

“Unfortunately, no. The interference is just too thick. I can read the water, but very little in it or below it. I’ll keep trying.”

Scott sighed. “Keep us updated. Looks like this will have to be more hands on.” He turned to Gordon. “We need Thunderbird Four.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #callisto

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adawneveryday · 2 years

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And the winner is...my first art show and first win

I was very fortunate, not only did I get to experience my first professional gallery art show at the Glen Eure Gallery, but I was awarded the “Excellence” ribbon. This was the 27th Annual Artist Self-Portrait show. So not only do I have a professional line to add to my CV for experience, I now also have and award I can list. So very grateful. I’m hoping by the end of summer I will have something else to share as a professional development, but I’m going to sit tight and see how things progress. I’m taking lessons for the first time in my life to address the skills I wish to improve or hon. The art teacher is also an accomplished artist and teacher at a local college with her own studio. I’m largely self taught, having public school classes and then an elective painting class in college.

For my entry, I was to title it “I Am …” fill in the rest. So I titled my piece “I am She.” In part the title comes for the Elvis Costello song about loving a complicated person who is both ups and down and a hundred different things within the measure of a day.

But what I wrote in the description was this:

Although intended as my first painted self portrait from a photo of me in front of my first large

completed painting after 10 years, it was transformed by the influences I felt around me: favorite

artists and artwork, family life, hikes around the waterways that I love, as well as the intruding

anxieties of raising two children while living life in an unstable, beautiful, dangerous world.

So a lot was left out specifically and there is a lot going on in this 4’ x 3’ acrylic on stretched canvas. So in an effort to get better and more comfortable talking about art and specifically my art, I’m going more in detail here.

First it is a painting of me in front of a painting, but instead of standing in my studio, I’m standing in the marshy brackish sound. In the top left corner is my son running in the SUN with our new rescue puppy, a german shepard golden mix we all named Harris, short for Harrison. His father’s name was Herman, and so we went with a name beginning with H. And he is handsome. So the beach and the sky and the water are exciting and vibrant and colorful. Even a pair of dolphins are in the waters off our neighborhood’s little beach down the street we visit almost daily. Over my shoulder behind me is my daughter exploring the shallows on the sound with a staff of driftwood she had found. In the distance the clouds are pretty but are tinged rusty by a wild fire or slow burn. As you look down, the marsh grass if full of life. And I could have depicted more than I have done here. There is a red winged black bird with a nest in the tall straight branches of some wild brush. Below her are other birds but also a snake winding it’s way through. The snake is both prey and predator like the birds, as snakes are easy meals for the talon armed raptors. People are so wary of snakes, it was an easy and obvious pick to insert some danger. But more danger, more subtle, is the vine and trash snagged around my ankle. Sometimes walking you can trip in vines, but also ropes, wires, plastic mesh, and more trash that gets caught around the edges of the great filters, our marsh. My rescue cat, named for where she was found, Salvo, is standing behind me warily stalking dragonflies, butterflies, birds in the wild flowers. And in the water is the moon reflecting. I, as an artist a mother a woman, I am over the moon, but also wary and pensive and poised where ever I find my feet or my mind. My dog is still a puppy asleep in my studio, but also like a sleepy sand dune protecting some marsh from the crashing waves at my feet. Behind him is the old inherited chair I use as an easel. It is a bottomless chair from times gone unrecorded, and my painting of the waves crashing into retaining wall rocks has sprouted an osprey nest. The osprey nest has two fledgling osprey show are spreading winds and opening mouths, almost as if I am their mother and I myself have two fledgling older children. Their movement has dislodge some sticks and the waves in the painting while not real are threatening to them. So this is my anxiety of uncontrollable danger imagined near my fledgling. .

There are touches of bronze and gold, and another favorite song, Fields of Gold, by Sting, is written in the grass.

Colors found in nature are intended as impressions of real nature. Colors not found in nature are emotional: anxiousness, excitement, admiration, passion, and fear.

Ok, I have indulged myself as much as I can bare. Although driven to create art with a sincere desire to share with the world, I am also uncomfortable as I was raised to be small and quiet and serve others. So even time in my studio, while driven to establish and spend time there, feels like a guilty pleasure or an act of selfishness. Probably why I’ve created and then tossed so many previous creations and attempts. But we shall stay the course now.

Thank you for any time you take with this. Much love to you and yours.

Dawn

#art show #art show win #original art #artwork #art #acrylic painting #painting #new artist #originalart #selfportrait #self portrait

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yodawgiheardyoulikemecha · 4 years

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Discovery Dragonfly

"And so Discovery drove on toward Saturn, as often as not pulsating with the cool music of the harpsichord, the frozen thoughts of a brain that had been dust for twice a hundred years." - From 2001 a Space Odyssey by Arthur C Clarke. Here are some more images of my scratch built Discovery Dragonfly from the novel 2001 a space odyssey by Arthur C Clarke. I based this model off the drawing above. Of course as you can see I used a Liberal amount of artistic license for this one. You will notice that the three main doors are pointing vertically. The reason is that they are in a locked position. For the doors to open they have to rotate 90º to the left in order to be in a position to open. Just a little idea I came up with. The Dragonfly configuration very closely matches the description of the Discovery as it was described in the novel. The wing like appendages are radiators which would dissipate any excess heat produced by the nuclear engine. Stanley Kubrick eventually rejected this design because well... they looked like wings. Opting instead for the more bone like configuration that we all know and love. You'll also note that the pod bay doors are in a vertical position. The idea behind this is that they do open and close horizontally. But once they are closed they rotate 90º to a locking position. If you click on the harpsichord link above it will take you to a piece of music written by Bach which I feel had the movie followed more closely to the novel may very well have been used to play along side the Discovery as this sad melancholy ship moves towards Saturn. I know fanciful thinking but then again isn't that what this is all about? From Wikipedia" Although the novel and film were developed simultaneously, the novel follows early drafts of the film, from which the final version deviated. These changes were often for practical reasons relating to what could be filmed economically, and a few were due to differences of opinion between Kubrick and Clarke. The most notable differences are a change in the destination planet from Saturn to Jupiter, the nature of the sequence of events leading to HAL's demise. Stylistic differences may be more important than content differences. Of lesser importance are the appearance of the monolith, the age of HAL, and the novel giving names to various spacecraft, prehistoric apes, and HAL's inventor. Stylistically, the novel generally fleshes out and makes concrete many events left somewhat enigmatic in the film, as has been noted by many observers. Vincent LeBrutto has noted that the novel has "strong narrative structure" which fleshes out the story, while the film is a mainly visual experience where much remains "symbolic". Randy Rasmussen has noted that the personality of Heywood Floyd is different as in Clarke's novel he finds space travel thrilling acting almost as a "spokesman for Clarke" whereas in the film, he experiences space travel as "routine" and "tedious." In the film, Discovery's mission is to Jupiter, not Saturn. Kubrick used Jupiter because he and special effects supervisor Douglas Trumbull could not decide on what they considered to be a convincing model of Saturn's rings for the film. Clarke went on to replace Saturn with Jupiter in the novel's sequel 2010: Odyssey Two. Trumbull later developed a more convincing image of Saturn for his own directorial debut Silent Running. The general sequence of the showdown with Hal is different in the film than in the book. HAL's initial assertion that the AE-35 unit will fail comes in the film after an extended conversation with David Bowman about the odd and "melodramatic" "mysteries" and "secrecy" surrounding the mission, motivated because HAL is required to draw up and send to Earth a crew psychology report. In the novel it is during the birthday message to Frank Poole. In the film, Bowman and Poole decide on their own to disconnect HAL in context of a plan to restore the allegedly failing antenna unit in operation. If it does not fail, HAL will be shown to be malfunctioning. HAL discovers the plan by reading their lips through the EVA pod window. In Clarke's novel, ground control orders Bowman and Poole to disconnect HAL should he prove to be malfunctioning a second time in predicting that the second unit is going to go bad. However, in Clarke's novel, after Poole's death Bowman tries waking up the other crew members, whereupon HAL opens both the internal and external airlock doors, suffocating these three and almost killing Bowman. The film has Bowman, after Poole's murder, go out to rescue him. HAL denies him reentry and kills the hibernating crew members by turning off their life-support. In the sequel 2010: Odyssey Two, however, the recounting of the Discovery One mission is changed to the film version. The film is generally far more enigmatic about the reason for HAL's failure, while the novel spells out that HAL is caught up in an internal conflict because he is ordered to lie about the purpose of the mission. Because of what photographed well, the appearance of the monolith that guided Moon-watcher and the other 'man-apes' at the beginning of the story was changed from novel to film. In the novel, this monolith is a translucent crystal; In the film, it is solid black. The TMA1 and TMA2 monoliths were unchanged. In the book, HAL became operational on January 12, 1997, but in the movie the year is given as 1992. It has been thought that Kubrick wanted HAL to be the same age as a young bright child, nine years old. The famous quote that opens the film sequel 2010: The Year We Make Contact - "My God—it's full of stars!" - is actually not in the 2001 film, although it is in the 2001 book. From Wikipedia" The spacecraft is founded on solid, if as-yet unrealized, science. One concession was made for the purpose of reducing confusion, and that was to eliminate the huge cooling "wings" which would be needed to radiate the heat produced by the propulsion system. Stanley Kubrick felt that the audience might interpret the wings as meaning that the spacecraft was intended to fly through an atmosphere. Discovery was named after Captain Robert Scott's RRS Discovery, launched 1901; Arthur C. Clarke used to visit the ship when she was moored in London. It shares its name with a real spacecraft, the Space Shuttle Discovery (OV-103).

#mecha #spacecraft

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

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The Dragon Egg (Part 1)

This is my (sort of late) entry for the @secrettunnelatla event.

Summary: Azula’s metal music career put in jeopardy when a careless afterparty leaves her unexpectedly pregnant with Chan’s baby. Meanwhile, Zuko struggles to overcome his addiction as he works to get his own band off the ground.

Content Warnings: Language, Teen Pregnancy, Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, and Child Abuse.

It smells heavily of leather, disinfectant, and hand soap. Azula supposes that, that is a good thing. She tries not to twitch too much, but the discomfort is rather intense. More than intense, really. It is a mild, yet white hot pain. She tries to ignore the buzz of the needle and its attempts to remind her of its bite.

“First time?” Seicho asks.

Azula nods.

“You’re telling me that you can get a pair of snake bites, a brow piercing, and stretch your earlobes, but this is too much?”

Azula resists another flinch. “Piercings are quicker. The needle goes in…” she winces, “and then it comes out and it’s over.”

Seicho withdraws the tattoo gun for a shrug, “there’s no art to piercings.”

“Tell that to Mai.”

“She’s your bandmate, right?”

Azula shakes her head. “My brother’s girlfriend. She’s in his band.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I have my own band. We have a better sound and better lyrics.” She grips the edge edge of her chair. This time speaking ill of Zuko’s band isn’t a distraction enough. She isn’t sure why this is so hard for her. Chan and Ruon had gotten their ink without a hitch, and Ruon is a crybaby on a good day.

“Do you need a break?” The artist asks, withdrawing her tattoo gun. The hideous red, plastic cup that she wears as a necklace charm, bobs with the motion. Azula grits her teeth and shakes her head. If Ruon could get it done in one go then she can manage as well. By the end of it she will have a blue and gold scaled dragon curling around her arm and outlined with blue flame and lightning. And if she can manage it, twin dragonflies will shimmer on both of her shoulder blades.

The buzzing resumes and the pricking returns. Sometimes it doesn’t hurt so much as it does sting. And sometimes the stinging subsides for something more like a painful pressure. “Try to relax, it hurts more if you’re tense.” Seicho says.

“This isn’t exactly relaxing.” Azula frowns. The woman has finally finished the outline of the dragon. “And this chair isn’t comfortable either.” She may as well add that she is thirsty and hungry for good measure.

Seicho laughs, “I’ve had criers and fainters and a few boasting badasses, but I’ve never had a complainer.”

Azula frowns.

“If you want you can move to the bed.” She gestures to what looks like a dentist’s chair. “It has more padding and it’ll give your back a rest.”

“Alright.” While she is up she steals a drink from her water bottle. She tries to make herself as comfortable as possible on the bed. She hears the buzz of another tattoo gun on the other side of the parlor before Seicho’s comes to join it. Azula braces herself for more stinging.

“So what kind of music do you play?”

“Disco pop.” She answers flatly. Sehicho has to draw back and wait for her laughter to pass. “We play metalcore. But Chan and Ruon want to experiment with…” it takes all of her soul not to shudder, “surfer rock.” Granted she can respect it as a genre, it isn’t terrible and it would suit the two of them well. But she can’t see herself providing vocals for surf rock and she doesn’t quite fit the aesthetic. At least she has Zirin to back her up on that, and so the band is perfectly divided like that.

“That could be interesting.” Seicho comments.

“Does anything about me indicate that surf rock is a good fit for my talents?”

.oOo.

Seicho looks her client up and down. Azula is an attractive girl, that’s for sure, it is more than a pleasure sitting in her chair--the girl has a reputation for being very particular and picky.

She studies her for a moment longer; small and slender with the slightest muscle definition. Her eyes glitter with thick black eyeliner, shot with a line of neon blue. It’s elegantly dramatic against a soft helping of black eyeshadow. Her piercings glint silver in the light when she turns to watch Seicho work. She notices a septum ring as well. Her hair is styled with a neat undercut, someone has artfully worked fiery patterns into the shaved part.

“That’s fair.” Seicho comments at last. She isn’t sure that she should make any other comments on the girl’s appearance, lest she makes a blabbering fool of herself. She supposes that she has a weak spot for piercings and sideshaves. “I don’t think that I caught your band’s name.”

“Blue Talon.” She gestures to the outline of her dragon. She had specifically instructed Seicho to put emphasis on it’s inky talon.

“I’ll have to listen to some of your music.”

Azula nods. “Give yourself a taste of culture.”

She fixes her gaze on the screen of her phone. Seicho catches the name ‘Chan’ at the top of the screen and the words, ‘still up for tonight?’ Seicho brings her focus back to the tattoo and resumes her work.

It is an underappreciated art, she thinks. A misunderstood one. She doesn’t think that people understand just how brave one needs to be to decorate a person’s body. Doesn’t think that they see the value in what she does.

Her art has a weight to it, one that her canvases will carry with them forever. Her art comes with a story and her parchment is flesh. Some tales are as simple as a reminder of one impulse decision (perhaps good, perhaps bad) at the end of a wild night, the story of reckless youth and a fun time. While other stories are so deeply personal that even she doesn’t know the meaning behind the picture she has brought to life on the flesh.

The elegance of dragging needles over skin in careful curves and sturdy lines is an art in itself. It takes a steady and loving hand to guide the needle in exactly the right ways. Calligraphy is renowned and loved, it is classy. Seicho doesn’t think that her job is much different than than.

They say that it is a rough and reckless job. They can’t seem to grasp what tedious work it is. The special sort of carefulness that goes into laying ink onto skin. She supposes that they have taken and ran with stories of shady, cheap shops with unsterilized needles and infected basement tattoos done by best friends.

She draws back for a moment to dab some excess ink from Azula’s skin. “How are you feeling?” She checks in. Her client gives her a simple thumbs up. With it, Seicho continues. The tattoo begins to come to life now, with an enticing shade of deep blue. She takes care to keep it from marring the golden outline of the scales.

As she carefully fills the scales with blue, she finds herself pondering how lovely it would be to have her artwork on the art of someone who has made it big. She hopes that Blue Talon will go far.

Occupied by her phone, Azula seems to be content for the time being. It would seem that the girl isn’t particularly interested in anymore conversation and she doesn’t try to force her into one. They don’t speak again until the final dragonfly has been inked on to the girl’s shoulder. Seicho flicks the tattoo gun off and sets it aside. “I can take a few pictures of the dragonflies for you so you can see them.”

Azula nods, paying only half attention as she inspects the dragon that now curls around her bicep. “It’s good work.” She says at last.

“Thank you.” Seicho smiles. She holds up her phone and the girl glances over it. “Hey!” She shouts as she snatches the phone from her hand. She watches Azula pull up her contacts list and add herself to it.

“We will be in touch.” She presses the phone back into Seicho’s palm.

She never would have thought that it would be so easy to get a rockstar’s phone number. Albeit, this particular rockstar seems to lack either impulse control or social graces. She is inclined to go with the latter.

“Feel free to give me a call if you think that the ink might be infected. Just follow the instructions,” she gestures to the aftercare package, “and that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Don’t wait by the phone.” Azula inspects her nails. “I have impeccable hygiene.”

Seicho damn near laughs. She has only exchanged a few words with the girl and she has already left quite an impression. Aesthetic aside and phone incident, she is strangely well-mannered, prim and proper. She isn’t exactly the sort Seicho is used to having in her chair.

She gives her hair a flick, revealing a golden ring bearing the Kasai family emblem. Were it not for that, Seicho would have never guessed that she was the daughter of Fire Lord Ozai. Thee Fire Lord Ozai, vocalist and guitarist of Fire’s Reign.

She doesn’t get the chance to request an autograph or a chance to meet her idol. She hears the shop bell rattle as the rock legend’s daughter shuts the door behind her and makes her way back to her car.

Seicho hopes that her hard work will serve the girl well.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Azula/Cupholder girl #Azula/Seicho #Zuko #Mai #Maiko #TyLee #Fanfiction #Atlasecrettunnel

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ravenbrenna09 · 4 years

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Jij Verliest Teaser - Press Start

As mentioned previously, here is my teaser for Jij Verliest, my story about Twitch Streamer Robbe. I’m pretty bad about giving opening comments for stuff like this, but all of the information regarding Jij Verliest will be linked below if you want to check out the information there.

While I originally had the idea for this ages ago, I was unsure if I was going to actually write it because the rest of the story will be in Robbe’s POV. But, when I decided that I wanted to do a teaser, I felt like this was the only way that I could genuinely do it without giving you pieces that I’ve already written. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this teaser and I can’t wait to show you this incredible journey that we’re going to go on.

Announcement

AO3

...

Dinsdag 17:45

There was a little bar down the street from the apartment complex that the group of them always seemed to find their way to at the end of the week. There wasn’t anything fancy about it, no pounding music or neon lights, and only a handful of signatures drinks that changed with each month and a menu full of delicious food. There were a handful of televisions on the walls and older pictures that had to have been taken eighty years ago. There was a jukebox that was shoved in the corner that would play every song imaginable, recycling through each genre with a high frequency. The bar was family-run and operated, passed down from father-to-son and then father-to-daughter, and had managed to retain the homely vibe that had been since it had originally opened years ago.

Eagerly stepping out of the harsh summer sun, Sander Driesen pushed back the strands of his hair that had stuck to his forehead. Even as the sudden burst of air-conditioning cooled his entire body, the stickiness of the sweat from his walk still pinned his black shirt to his skin. Thankfully, he had chosen to wear his sneakers instead of his Doc Martens, or else he would’ve been dying.

Behind the bar, the afternoon bartender, and the owner, Lilly, barely glanced up from her job counting down the drawer to glance over at him with one raised eyebrow at his attire. Yeah, he thought, a black t-shirt and black denim jeans and a leather jacket firmly in his grasp (which he only wore at work because his boss liked to keep the tattoo parlor on the verge of an ice age) was probably not the best idea for making the trek to the bar. But, Sander had forgotten his metro card in the apartment this morning… so he was forced to walk the entire way or wait for Senne and likely get put to work in the meantime.

The extra money would’ve been nice and Sander loved what he did. But, he had spent the majority of the afternoon working on a rather large dragonfly piece on a girl’s shoulder. And, it was a detailed and intricate design that had been designed by her mother and she wanted it to come out perfect. Sander understood the need (he had a quote on his rib that his mother used to say) and so, he knew that the task required his full attention, or else he feared that he would ruin the sentimental tattoo.

But, Sander had managed to complete it with only a few minutes over his shift. When the girl had seen it with the help of well-placed mirrors. At the sight of it, the girl had started tearing up and tackled Sander on the spot, thanking him unintelligibly into his shoulder. But, the amount of effort that it took to complete the tattoo with the meticulous focus that it required like one of Sander’s favorite pieces. And, he was in desperate need of a glass of ice-cold beer and relaxing night out with his friends.

Even if he had to walk in the summer heat to get there.

Smiling weakly at Lilly, he raised his hand and extended his pinky upward. As she counted the rest of the money, Lilly nodded her head in his direction as he headed to the back of the bar to one of the bar tables that stood there. His table of choice stood near the jukebox and it was the one that they tried to get whenever they could manage it. Nearly collapsing in one of it’s four unmatched chairs, Sander let out a sigh, hanging the leather jacket in his hand on the back of it. His skin was flushed and burning beneath his clothes and outside of them.

“You’re here early.”

As she walked up to the table, Lilly placed a coaster against the table before setting the glass of beer on top of it. Sander grinned over at her appreciatively before taking a sip of the cool drink… and then took a large one as a comforting chill flashed through his body. Lilly tilted her head to the side, her dusty brown ponytail bobbing as she did so. The woman was tall and slender, barely looking a day over thirty despite nearing her fiftieth birthday. Every time that Sander came into the bar, Lilly would always treat him like her son and Sander always welcomed the easy affection.

Sander shrugged his shoulders. “I walked really fast to get out of the sun.”

“I can tell,” Lilly spoke, materializing a wet rag out of nowhere. She pressed the damp towel against his forehead. The rag was cool to the touch like it had just been submerged in a bucket of ice-cold water. A slight moan slipped past Sander’s lips as he curled like a cat in the direction of the cool rag. The woman let out a laugh, practically half a snort. “Here, you can have it. I have more rags behind the bar.”

Sander eagerly swiped it from her hands, wiping the sweat off his arm covered in tattoos before moving to the other which was completely bare. “Thanks, Lil.”

The front door let out a ring signaling that there was a new person had entered the bar on the sunny Tuesday afternoon. “I’ll be right there!” she called as she briefly took the towel back. She folded it in her hands before placing it against the back of Sander’s neck. Sander let out a groan of thanks, placing his head against the cool wood of the desk, relishing the cold chill of the table in comparison to his flushed forehead. “That should help you cool off a little bit faster. Let me know if it needs to be sprayed with cold water again.”

“Thank you.”

Lilly chuckled, moving away from him and patting his shoulder.

Despite the low hum of the televisions, each of which likely had a different station on, Sander could hear the woman talking to someone about what they wanted and the patron’s quiet voice. With each passing second that he spent in the bar, Sander could feel the flush on his body, the by-product from the heat and his walk, and further amplified by his darker aesthetic, return slowly back to the temperature around him. Lilly always kept the bar cool, going lower whenever she expected there to be more people to be in the enclosed space at night, and Sander had never been more thankful for her planning than he was now.

Without warning, the jukebox kicked on. Because it was almost an arm’s length away, he could pinpoint the metallic hum above the commotion of the bar, the brief pause of energy kicking through the machine, waking it up, and roaring it to life. The hum continued on, the interface of the machine trying to figure out what song to play, and then, finally, the opening chords began to play. The music, the notes, the lyrics washed over him like a tidal wave, crashing over him and wrapping him in a blanket of security, even as his body continued to return down to a normal temperature.

David Bowie.

Rebel, Rebel.

On instinct, his body reacted to the song. He sat up from the table and tilted his head back, letting the chorus wash over him. Rebel, Rebel was one of his favorite songs and David Bowie was his all-time favorite artist so he really couldn’t help himself. His foot tapped against the metal bar of the stool, he drummed his fingers against the edge of the table, and hummed the lyrics under his breath. If it had just been him and Lilly, he might’ve stood on the stools and belted out the lyrics, but she would give him a nasty look if he tried it with customers around.

Humming out the chorus, Sander opened his eyes. His body had almost completely returned to normal temperature now. The wet rag that Lilly had given him was only succeeding in getting the collar of his shirt soaking wet. Removing the towel, he reached out to grab his beer, the condensation on the chill glass making his fingertips slip a little, as he carefully tried to catch a drink.

But, as he’s putting the slick glass of beer back down against the coaster, as the main chorus of Rebel, Rebel ripped through his body like an electric shock, he caught sight of the man at the bar and Sander was certain that the breath was ripped out of his lungs.

The man was leaning against the counter, a half-drunk glass of beer in front of him. His brown hair was short but curled naturally at the tips and he had wide brown eyes that were focused on Lilly, listening to her talk with apt attention. His smile tugged up the corners of his lips, a pair of dimples popping up. Even with such a marginal distance between them, Sander could pinpoint the freckles on his cheeks, his artistic eye naturally finding a pattern to them. Lilly said something that ripped a lovely giggle out of him, shaking his head as he took a drink of his beer.

Fuck, Sander thought, swallowing. He’s beautiful.

In fact, Sander was certain that he had never seen a man, or anyone, look as beautiful as he did right now. He was sure that no one else in his life could ever possibly compare. If he had his camera, the one that Senne and Amber had gotten him for his birthday in April, he would’ve taken a picture, or two, or twenty, enough to memorize him, to look back on his beauty, to this moment. But, Sander already knew that none of them could ever possibly compare to the real thing, to the man standing there, leaning against the counter, looking like a beautiful angel that had just descended onto the earth.

Sander felt something stir in his stomach as the man glanced at his watch before taking the final drink of his beer. Lilly said something, probably offering him a drink, but the man shook his head, pulling his wallet out of his pocket to pay. He was going to leave, walk out the door to the bar, and Sander would likely never see him again. Sander needed to meet him, to open his mouth to introduce himself, maybe get out a line or two to make an impression that would allow them to see each other again. He didn’t care that Lilly was there, that she would likely tease him about it the moment that he was gone, but it didn’t matter because he could take the teasing.

All that mattered was that he introduced himself before he walked out the door.

Gripping onto his glass, Sander took the towel off his neck and took another sip of his beer. Then, he shifted in his seat, moving to get up, to walk over to the bar, trying to find something memorable to say. But, the front door opened, the bell sounded throughout the bar, and Sander turned to see a man walking into the bar with a duffle bag over his shoulder. The beautiful man turned, taking a step to the door, and the new one met him halfway, grinning down at him, “Here’s where you went off to.”

“Sorry,” the beautiful man managed before the new one ducked down to press a kiss against his lips. It was a quick and fleeting kiss, but Sander felt something stab into his chest and that the seconds dragged on. Trying his best to not seem disappointed, he shifted back into his seat and simply took another drink to stop himself from going over there. However, he couldn’t turn his head away, his eyes trained on the smaller of the two. “I know that you and Leon have an important trial coming up. I didn’t want to get you in trouble if I heard critical details about your strategy.”

“It’s okay,” the man spoke, grinning down at him. Then, he nodded towards the door, reaching out to take the beautiful boy’s hand. “Come on. We’ve got to get home to your mom’s place for your party or else Jens might wring my neck in for stealing you away from all your friends celebrating.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind it,” the smaller one remarked. His boyfriend grinned down at him. “He knows how much I don’t like surprise parties.” But, still, he turned towards Lilly, smiling over at her. “Thanks for the beer and the talk. I hope everything goes well with your daughter’s schooling. I’m sure she’ll do great.”

The bartender smiled over at them, already cleaning the glass of beer that he had used. “Anything for the road for you two?”

“No, we’re good. Thank you though. We aren’t going far,” his boyfriend spoke. Wrapping an arm around the beautiful man’s shoulder, he tugged him in the direction of the door, pushing it open with his duffle bag. Lilly sent them a “good day”, but it was muffled as Sander found his eyes trained on the beautiful man with his bright grin that was pointed at his boyfriend. The man easily fell into his embrace, wrapping an arm around him, and let himself be dragged out of the bar.

The door of the bar slammed shut, triggering the bell again, and Rebel, Rebel abruptly ended to his right, shifting to a sad song that made Sander want to shovel quarters in the machine until he found a song that would summon the man back again. “Are you feeling any better?” Lilly questioned, taking the empty glass from his fingertips and replacing it with a full glass.

The answer was no, but his body temperature had returned to normal.

In fact, with the guy out of the bar and out of sight, dragged away by his boyfriend, and Sander didn’t even get the chance to put a name to a face that was that beautiful, he felt strangely cold. Despite the summer heat outside and the warm burst of hot air that had flooded when the door had opened, his body shivered almost violently and his stomach churned. The two of them had looked happy and in love… besides, maybe it was for the best that Sander didn’t get his name.

“Yes, I am,” Sander spoke, realizing that he hadn’t responded to Lilly’s question. “My body temperature has now completely returned to normal.” Lilly chuckled. Sander wanted to put the beautiful guy and his boyfriend out of his mind, move on because he knew that he would never see them again. But, somehow, his mouth was opening and he was asking, “Who was that guy?”

“I don’t know,” Lilly remarked, reaching out to grab the towel from the table. Sander hid his disappointment by taking a drink of his new beer. “He had just come in to have a drink while waiting for his boyfriend to get off work. Apparently, he works at a law firm near here.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Sander remarked, grinning over at her. “Generally, the only people who come in here are regulars.”

Lilly rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder before moving back to the bar again. As she moved to continue counting the drawer, Sander glanced at the clock that was nestled between two pictures. It was past 18:00 now which meant that Lilly’s relief would be here any minute. And, his mind reminded him, his roommates would be here any minute now.

The door opened, the bell rung, and Sander looked, hoping it was the beautiful man once again. But, it was Noor, dressed in a long-sleeve, blue velvet dress that went to her mid-thigh. As the door slammed close, she grinned over at Lilly before moving to Sander. She threw her arms around his neck in a hug before pushing herself up on the seat beside him. “Hey, how was your day? I came in to get a late lunch with you, but Emilie said that you were really busy with a customer. Did you get her piece done?”

“Yeah,” Sander replied. “I finally managed to get it done. Where’s Senne? Wasn’t he picking you up today?”

“Yeah, he’s still a little behind me,” Noor remarked, smiling over at him. “He ran into someone that he knew on our walk here and stopped to talk to them because it had been a while. But, it’s too hot outside and I wanted to get inside.” Noor gestured in the direction of Sander’s black outfit. “Something that I’m sure that you know a lot about.”

“While this is my normal aesthetic, you know that I would be wearing shorts if my boss didn’t require us to wear jeans,” Sander remarked. Noor smirked over at him, shaking her head. “When are you coming in to get that tattoo that you wanted to honor your grandma? You know that I will do it if you come in.”

“Well, you aren’t working on weekends lately and I do have my own job, you know?” Noor remarked, raising an eyebrow. Sander nodded his head. She had a point. His boss had stopped scheduling him on weekends as of late. “And, you’re the only one in that tattoo shop that I would trust to do something this important to me.” Noor squinted her eyes, looking at him with a curious expression “Are you okay?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know,” Noor spoke. “You seem a bit off.”

The image of the beautiful man, the one whose name that he didn’t get the chance to know, flashed in his mind and his stomach gave a painful squeeze. But, Sander nodded his head to ease Noor’s worry, smiling over at his best friend and saying, “Yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m always going to worry about you.”

“Yeah, Sander,” Senne spoke, appearing to his left. The brunet had two glasses of beer balancing in one hand and Noor’s favorite drink in the other. The girl took her drink with a thankful smile and Senne practically thrust one of the beer glasses in Sander’s. Now that he wasn’t doing a balancing act, he wrapped an arm around his neck and placed a kiss against Sander’s cheek. “How was work?”

“Good. You?” Sander questioned as Senne moved to sit in one of the remaining chairs. As Senne launched into a tale about what happened at work, Sander tried his best to listen. However, his mind kept conjuring images of the beautiful man against the bar. What if Sander had talked to him before he left? What if his boyfriend never showed? What if he was there to see him? Internally shaking the thought from his head, there was no use in trying to imagine another time where things were a little bit different.

It was highly likely that Sander would never see him again.

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