#by far the strangest thing I’ve ever found on google earth and I’ve found some strange things

[blood-injections]

So I was fucking around in google earth as I commonly do for fun, scrolling around the desert to fuel my danger days fantasies and engrain myself in the universe. I was looking for places/things to use as inspiration in art or writing or whatever and out of pure curiosity, I looked around the la area to see what irl could possibly line up with like the canon map that could be wolfblood bleach because I don’t think it was ever confirmed if it’s an actual beach or not or just a name for a place and it’s one of those things I’ve yet to just make a headcanon for. I didn’t actually pull up the map to overlay it or anything but I was having fun like could it be Long Beach or a lake somewhere in here or what. And then out of pure curiosity I typed wolfblood beach into the search bar. Obviously nothing came up but then I typed in just wolfblood for the hell of it and this came up???????

CrAnIal dEForMAtiOn prOJecT???? Zoom in and there’s nothing, it’s on a mountain in the middle of the woods and there’s no weird structures or anything just trees. Look it up on google and there’s nothing. Why the goofy ass picture??? What is this???? Why does it only come up when you search wolfblood in the la area???????? If you zoom in without typing anything it’s just woods, the pin doesn’t come up. The pin is only shown when you search wolfblood.

I’m genuinely wondering if this is a lore thing like they had the weird websites and obscure YouTube videos and twitterverse I wouldn’t be surprised if they put stuff on google earth for the hell of it and somehow wolfblood is a keyword that gives you this thing. But then I would think it’d have more then the name and a goofy ass picture, it’d have some weird link or something, unless it’s just inactive and this is all that’s left. Or maybe a fan made this or something. Or maybe it’s some other weird conspiracy altogether not related to Mcr at all just a weird google earth thing in general that happens to be in the la/zones area.

Anyway this inspired me, as I said I didn’t have a headcanon for wolfblood beach yet and what it is so fuck it, it’s not an actual beach at all it’s the name of a fucked up medical facility in bat city where they have a.. cranial deformation project. Maybe not quite that maybe it’s just where they experiment with the drac masks and stuff or like chips to go in peoples heads instead so it keeps the cranial theme.

[wherepoetswentodie]

This is a quick Churchtarts thing that literally no one has asked for. It’s been sat in my drafts for like three hundred years and I thought I would actually finish it instead of just stare at it whenever I open my google docs. Anyway. ENJOY. 

-----------------

Chris noticed many things about many people. He told Connor that this was because he cared about his fellow missionaries, and not because it meant that he had the ability to blackmail anyone at a moments notice. 

After six months of being in Africa with the strangest group of boys that Chris had ever met, he felt as though he had more than enough blackmail material to bring both the District 9 Elders and their families down. He noticed that Elder Neeley wasn’t nearly as cold and distant as he seemed, because Chris had witnessed him getting a midnight glass of water with a fluffy blanket draped around his shoulders and a little teddy bear tucked under his arm, and that Elder Schrader had a strange appreciation of boy bands from the nineties and liked to show his appreciation for them by singing in the shower when he thought that no one was listening. Most importantly though, he knew that Elder Price had a secret 15 step nightly hair care routine followed by a 15 step skin care routine, and he was quite looking forward to embarrassing him in front of the entire village with that one day. 

Elder Church, on the other hand, was much more elusive and it was starting to really piss Chris off. 

“You know that Elder Church has never cried once?” Chris casually mentioned to Connor one afternoon when they were watching Elder Price preach in the village square. 

“Pardon?” 

“Elder Church has never cried. Everyone has cried here at least once, but not him,” Chris said, “It’s strange, isn’t it?” 

“Just because he hasn’t cried in front of you doesn’t mean he’s never cried before,” Connor countered, “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” 

“I think you’ll find that it does, actually,” Chris said, his eyes flickering over to where Elder Church was stood with Elder Michaels. 

Without even realising what he was doing, Chris cocked his head to the side, his eyes dragging down Church’s body that seemed to be more leg than anything else. It was almost concerning, the amount of leg that he had. It made Chris wonder what he ate as a child, and why his own parents hadn’t given him the same food so that he could have grown passed 5 foot 5. 

“Stop staring,” Connor chastised, “You’re going to scare him,” 

“Do you think he’s gay?” Chris asked, “I usually get a vibe, but I don’t get a vibe. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him emote, either,” 

“Are we talking about Elder Church or Elder Price?” 

Chris snorted, “Don’t we have such great taste in boys?”

“There’s nothing wrong with having crushes on emotionally unavailable and possibly straight boys,” Connor said, “I don’t think that James is straight though. There’s just...something about him that hesitantly whispers ‘I’m a homosexual, please love me,’” 

“You’re so weird - oh god, oh god, oh god. He’s coming over,” 

“Probably because you’ve been staring at him like a creep,” Connor muttered. 

Elder Church smiled at them, raising his hand in an awkward greeting. Connor muttered something about needing to be elsewhere and hurried away, most likely to stare at Elder Price from a different angle. 

Chris smiled up at Elder Church, “Can I help you, Elder?” 

“I thought - I thought you wanted to speak to me? You were staring at me,” 

“Oh,” Chris said, “I was - nothing. It was nothing. I guess I just zoned out for a sec,” 

“Right. Just making sure that you were, um, that you were okay? Or - Or something..” he trailed off in a frown, “Sorry, this was weird. I’m weird. Sorry. Anyway, I’ll be - I’ll be over there doing...something or...something...um, bye,” 

When Elder Church had all but sprinted away from him, Chris wandered back over to Connor. 

“Elder Church is definitely incapable of emotion,” Chris said, “but like...just normal emotion. I don’t think he has any social skills. Have you noticed that?” 

Connor shrugged, “He’s only just stared saying ‘Good morning’ back to me. Just don’t start prying into his personal life, alright? We all know he had a hard time back home. We don���t need to make it hard here,” 

“I would never!” Chris exclaimed, “I’m only going to flirt with him in the hopes that he has more than his looks going for him,” 

“And in the hopes that he’s gay?” 

“That too,” Chris said, “Call me shallow, but I would like my boyfriend to be attracted to men,” 

-------------------

Chris wasn’t starting to think that thee reason Church never spoke to him was simply because he didn’t like him. He would often find Church having conversations with the likes of Elder Michaels and Elder Price, but never him. And he couldn’t understand why he would want to have a conversation with Elder Price of all people. Chris wasn’t sure that he would want to have a conversation with him if they were the last people on earth.

Determined to get to the bottom of why Elder Church seemed to be allergic to him, Chris sidled up to Elder Michaels one day when he was washing the dishes after dinner. 

“Hello, Elder Michaels,” Chris said cheerfully. 

“Are you ambushing me?” Elder Michaels asked. 

“What? No! Why would - Why would I ambush you?” 

“I don’t know,” Elder Michaels mumbled, “You’re scary,” 

Chris shrugged, “Yeah, I know. I have a lot of pent up aggression because I’m so short. Anyway, what’s the deal with Elder Church?” 

“There isn’t one?” Elder Michaels frowned, “He’s just...James?” 

“Uh, uh,” Chris said, “Don’t act dumb or I will attack you. Does he not like me?” 

Elder Michaels stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter. Chris frowned, growing more and more irate by the second. Was it too much to want to know exactly what was happening in Elder Church’s head at all times so that Chris could know why he never cried and also try and make him fall in love with him? 

“He likes you,” Elder Michaels said, “I don’t think he has a problem with anyone here. He just finds you...intimidating,” 

“I’m not intimidating!” 

“Okay Poptarts, whatever you say,” 

Chris scowled at him and folded his arms, “Whatever. I’m going to find him,” 

“Don’t!” Elder Michaels said quickly, “Please, he, uh - he just got a letter from home. He needs some time to himself. Please leave him alone,” 

“Oh.” Chris said softly, “Oh, right, okay. I’ll, uh...I’ll tell the others to give him space,” 

Elder Michaels nodded, “Thank-you. And, uh, I know that - I know that you like him-” 

“I don’t,” Chris interjected, “I just, I think that he’s - um, I think that he’s a nice person and I, uh, I - I think that...” 

“It’s okay,” Elder Michaels said with a giggle, “He’s think that you’re a nice person, too,” 

“Oh,” Chris said, “Cool. Well, I’ll see you later,” 

“Just take it easy with him, alright?” 

Chris frowned, “Um, sure?” 

It was only when he was half way down the hallway that he realised exactly what Elder Michaels had meant. He gasped and hurried into the living room where he knew that Connor was and dived onto the sofa, sprawling himself across his best friend's lap. 

“I almost have a boyfriend,” 

Connor glanced down at him, “Um-” 

“Elder Church thinks that I’m a nice person,” 

“Okay?” Connor said. 

“In the same way that I think he’s a nice person,” 

Connor stared at him for a moment and then gasped, “Seriously? How do you know?” 

Chris sat up and grinned at him, “Because Elder Michaels told me! So, all I have to do is talk to him and then I’ll have a boyfriend! I mean, I think that’s how it works...is that how it works?” 

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Connor muttered. He seemed to go into a daze for a moment before he turned back to Chris, “Don’t be too forward, though. Or you might scare him off,” 

Chris rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to scare him off,” 

-----------

And he didn’t scare Elder Church off, mainly because he suddenly found that he himself was too scared to even be in the same room as him. Whenever Chris walked into a room that Elder Church was in, he would loudly say that he was in the wrong place and turn right back around. Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone, but was quite happy to pretend that he was. 

“You know you’re probably going to make him not like you,” Connor said from where he was lying on Chris’ bed as though he didn’t have his own. 

“You told me not to scare him off!” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean don’t speak to him!” Connor laughed. 

“Like how you always speak to Elder Price?” 

“I’ll have you know that Elder Price told me that he liked my tie today,” 

“Wow,” Chris said, genuinely impressed, “Coming from him, that’s like a declaration of love,” 

“I know!” Connor said excitedly, “And then I complimented his hair and he just stared at me for like five seconds and then walked away. Baby steps, I think,” 

Chris sighed and glanced over at the bedroom door, “You sent Michaels to the market today, didn’t you?”

“I think so. Why?” Connor said. 

“Because that means that Elder Church is on his own,” 

Connor looked up at him, his eyebrows raised, “Don’t go and proposition him in his bedroom!” 

“I’m not going to!” Chris exclaimed, already halfway to the door, “I’m just going to talk to him,” 

“Fine,” Connor sighed, “but don’t come crying to me when he gets creeped out because you barge into his bedroom,” 

“I’m not going to barge,” Chris muttered angrily as he walked down the hall to Elder Michael’s and Elder Church’s shared bedroom. 

He hesitated outside of it, realising that he had never actually been inside anybody else’s bedroom before. Maybe Connor was right. Maybe this was weird and he shouldn’t speak to him when he was alone in his bedroom. Then again, the embarrassment of going back to his bedroom without talking to Elder Church far weighed out how embarrassing it might be if Elder Church told him to fuck off. 

Taking a deep breath, Chris knocked on the door and walked in, only to regret it the second he did. Elder Church was sat hunched over on the edge of his bed, his hands clenched in his hair as he sobbed. 

“Oh my god,” Chris said, “Oh my god. I am so - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk and - oh god. I’m s-sorry,” 

Elder Church’s head snapped up and Chris grimaced slightly; his eyes were puffy behind his glasses and his face was flushed red. 

“P-Please leave me alone,” he whispered brokenly, “I don’t want to t-talk to anyone,” 

“I feel like  - I feel like I shouldn’t leave you alone,” Chris said, one hand still on the door handle, “You look - You look sad,” 

“How observant of you,” he snapped before his bottom lip started to tremble again, “Oh god, I just - I snapped for no reason, just like - he did that - I’m just...oh god,” 

“It’s okay,” Chris said hurriedly, “What I said was a bit stupid,” 

Elder Church shook his head, “That doesn’t mean I can snap at you for no reason!”

Chris quietly shut the door behind him and walked over to Elder Michaels bed, slowly sitting down on it. He sat and stared at Elder Church for a minute before gently nudging his foot with his own. 

“Why are you still here?” he asked. 

“Cause I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Chris said, “You can tell me to fuck off if you want, I won’t be offended,” 

Elder Church sniffled and looked up at him, “I haven’t cried in ages. I don’t - I don’t like people seeing me cry,” 

“I can close my eyes if you want,” 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, hurriedly wiping his eyes, “I just - I had a bad phone call with home,” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“My mom won’t divorce him,” he whispered so quietly that Chris had to lean forward to hear him, “She told me that she was going to so that we’d be free from him when I got home from here but she won’t, and I just - I don’t want to go home to him. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” 

Without much warning, he burst into tears again, making Chris jump. Chris glanced over at the door, half hoping that Elder Michael’s would walk through it and know how to deal with this. When that didn’t happen, Chris looked back over at James and hesitantly placed a hand on his knee. Spurred on by the fact that he didn’t push him away, Chris carefully got to his feet and put his arms around him. 

Elder Church tensed for a second before he put his arms around Chris’ middle and sobbed into his shirt. Accepting the fact that maybe he was going to be there a while, Chris sat down on his lap, stroking a hand through his hair as he carried on sobbing. 

“It’s okay,” Chris whispered, “You’re okay. You’re safe here,” 

“No I’m not,” he mumbled into his shirt, “There’s lions here,” 

“Okay. You’re safe here apart from the lions,” Chris amended. 

Elder Church pulled away from him and then frowned, “You’re sat on my lap,” 

Chris squeaked a little and jumped up, smoothing his hair back, “Yes. Well, I was - you seemed sad, Elder Church, so I - I wanted to - I wanted to make sure that you were okay and-” 

“You were just sat on my lap, you might as well call me James,” 

“Yeah. Might as well.” Chris muttered, sitting back down on Elder Michaels bed, “How are you - How are you feeling now?” 

James stared at him, “Um, I - I mean, I - you know, I - I’m fine. I’m always fine,” 

“You’re always fine yet you were just sobbing into my shirt?” 

“I’m not very good at talking about my feelings,” 

“Funnily enough, I worked that one out for myself,” 

“But, I, uh...thank-you,” he mumbled, his cheeks turning pink, “For, uh, you know, sitting in my lap. I mean, no! I didn’t mean - I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant - I meant that I appreciate you, uh, being nice and not - not freaking out. It has - it has nothing to do with you sitting in my lap,"

Chris nodded and stood up, “I feel like - I feel like I’ve maybe overstayed my welcome so I’ll just - I’ll see you-”

“No! You don’t have to leave,” James said quickly, “Unless you want to, I mean, if you - if you want to go then by all means leave but if you don’t want to then you don’t...you don’t have to,” 

Chris stared at him for a moment and then slowly sat down again, “Okay. I’ll stay then,” 

They sat in silence for a while, and Chris wasn’t sure if he should try and start a conversation, but what were you meant to talk to someone about after they had just had a breakdown in front of you? Talking about the weather seemed silly, but it didn’t seem nearly as bad as talking about exactly why James had just had said breakdown. 

“I know what you’re doing,” James said, breaking the silence. 

“Uh-” 

“You feel awkward because you don’t know what to talk to me about,” 

Chris cleared his throat, “I don’t - I don’t want to upset you more,” 

James shrugged, “I don’t think you will because...I, uh - you know, I think you’re a - you’re a nice person and I - I like nice people...” 

“Okay,” Chris said, because he wasn’t sure what else he was meant to say. 

“Oh god,” James said quickly, his cheeks heating up, “Oh god. I thought you - I was trying to say - sorry, I think I’ve read the signals wrong. I thought you were - Elder Michaels was convinced that you’re gay and you’re - oh no. I’m sorry. You can leave,” 

“No!” Chris exclaimed, “I think you’re a nice person too! And I am gay!” 

James frowned at him for a second and then nodded, smiling a little, “Okay. Good,” 

Chris guessed that James’ embarrassing blackmail material was that he burst into a fit of giggles after someone kissed him for the first time, he just didn’t think that he was ever going to use it against him. 

[like-twilight]

I’m jus’ gon do this cause why not I stole it from Here.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

According to my last.fm in the last seven days: 1: ATEEZ: Wave 2: ATEEZ: Illusion 3: ATEEZ: Win 4: TxT: Run Away 5: ATEEZ: Precious 6: ATEEZ: Say My Name

Guys. I like Ateez.

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

My sister.

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

Well I ain’t standin’ up so here’s line 17 from page 23 of Vale which is on my computer.

““Well then, Your Highness,” I say and crouch down, trying to get a look of her face”

4: What do you think about most?

Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad things.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

From a real person that’s not an automated message from a bank or a website it’s from my co-worker from October 26th that says “Ok I’ll do it, print it then I’ll replace it”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

Well. PJ’s are clothes so.

7: What's your strangest talent?

I don’t think I have any.

8: Girls... (finish the sentence); Boys... (finish the sentence)

Girls not allowed. Boys also not allowed. Leave me alone. (My nb friends can come tho.)

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

If I did then the creator didn’t tell me :”D

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

I... can’t recall.

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

Frogs.

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

Maybe as a baby?

13: What's your religion?

I don’t belieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

I’m not outside. But I’d probably be going to work or the store or the post office.

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Ateez!

17: What was the last lie you told?

“I’m okay!” #deep

18: Do you believe in karma?

god no!

19: What does your URL mean?

It’s a quote from Ateez’s Twilight.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

I’m very depressed. Strength is probably that I’m still alive? Idk

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Idk. Find a lot of famous people attractive I-? I Don’t have just like The Celebrity Crush. Jeong Yunho’s cute tho.

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

No.

23: How do you vent your anger?

I throw a temper tantrum.

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

Just a mason jar of my tears. Also every Ateez album released so far.

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Neither! Fucking email me, bro.

26: Are you happy with the person you've become?

God no :D

27: What's a sound you hate; sound you love?

Ambulance sirens hate. Fuckin... panflute I love.

28: What's your biggest "what if"?

What if I was a... giraffe.? Or a tardigrade. 

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

I believe in things we can’t perceive scientifically or whatever. Not ghosts per se, like souls of dead people or whatever. Also yes to aliens.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Nothin I’m jus sittin on my bed. If I move my arms up and down a bit then my blanket and a bottle of water.

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

Nothin. Is just my room.

32: What's the worst place you have ever been to?

Uuuh a cemetery?

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

In America? Idk which is less racist in general?

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

What’s an “opposite” gender? I know you mean male but I refuse to give into the cISSEXIST SCUm. 

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

I have no idea what that means.

36: Define Art.

the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.

37: Do you believe in luck?

Yes. But I’ve never been the lucky one unfortunately.

38: What's the weather like right now?

Uuuh I have to google it. Clear. 8°

39: What time is it?

21:30

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

No. But I probably would.

41: What was the last book you read?

Pfssssshhhh, one that wasn’t written by me? Fucks me, dude. Fault In Our Stars? The Death Cure? I can’t remember, it’s been years.

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yeah!

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Tia.

44: What was the last film you saw?

Uuuuuuuuhhh... UUUUHHHHHHHHH How to Train Your Dragon 3, it was nice.

45: What's the worst injury you've ever had?

Had a bleeding spine! Kinda miss it tbh.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

I probably haven’t tried, I’ve just tried to get them to land on me.

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

Uuuh I’m into Ateez these days.

48: What's your sexual orientation?

I’m byesexual.

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

Yes.

50: Do you believe in magic?

Again, I do believe things could exist we can’t scientifically explain but idk. Not in the Harry Potter magic way.

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

No, cause I believe everything is my fault.

52: What is your astrological sign?

Aries.

53: Do you save money or spend it?

I save money TO spend. I think I found a healthy balance.

54: What's the last thing you purchased?

A fukin... bike. That’s like in your room. Not by accident but because it’s meant to be there.

55: Love or lust?

Like.. in what context? Love? Idk.

56: In a relationship?

Love.

57: How many relationships have you had?

None relationships.

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

I can’t.

59: Where were you yesterday?

Like on average? Or 24 hours ago exactly. Cause I was at work for eight hours and then I was just on my bed.

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Yeah, my phone case.

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

Ye.

62: What's your favourite animal?

Cat? Idk.

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

:DDDD If I had any then people would like me.

64: Where is your best friend?

???? 

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

I... I dunno? The ones I follow?

66: What is your heritage?

I don’t know what that means. Like what I’m gonna be remembered by? I whined a lot!

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Cried.

68: What do you think is Satan's last name?

Choi.

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

Why would I lie about masturbation. Yeah I did.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Fuck no.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the dog, fuck off.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) I am telling everyone. b) Be paralysed by fear and waste all of it. c) Yes, very much.

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

I feel like that’s stupid. 

74: What's a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Illusion by Ateez these days. 

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

4153

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

I wouldn’t know, buddy.

77: How can I win your heart?

Just be nice to me and I’ll probably be emotionally attached to you for life, sorry.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

I don’t think insanity is the cause for any creativity. If an insane person is creative then they would be creative with a sound mind too.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Got into kpop, that was nice.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

42

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

“Balled 2 hard lol”

82: What is your favourite word?

There are too many words.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Kokoro.

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

I don’t think there is one.

85: What's the last song you listened to?

Treasure by Ateez.

86: Basic question; what's your favourite colour/colours?

Pink and yellow.

87: What is your current desktop picture?

A picture of.. Ateez... sorry.

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Donald Trump.

89: What would be a question you'd be afraid to tell the truth on?

Uh, I think I’m p truthful, yeah. Ask me anything.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Scream. Maybe scramble on the floor and push past them if I can.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Immortality!

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Oh geez. I was on a carousel in Italy once, that was awesome.

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

The one that gave me depression idk which one it was but can it go away?

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Ehh, I don’t want that. Like... I don’t know those people, they could be Awful in bed or just in general too. Like I need an emotional bond first and they don’t even know me and I only know the persona they show to the public. Plus it could potentially ruin the music for me later on, it’d be weird, no thank you.

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

UUUUUHHHHH I DUNNO Lyon cause Grenoble doesn’t have an airport. Well, actually my sister isn’t in Grenoble right now. Hm well if I grab my card before I go then I can just find a hotel there until she comes home.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

I don’t think so? 

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

I had to throw up in a car and then asked the driver to stop the car so I can throw up outside the car.

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes. Seven times. SEVEN TIMES? Yeah, holy shit.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Someone help me, I am so so so incredibly in need of help, please. Please. Thank you.

[lhs3020b]

The Deer, pt 5 (and finale!)

In the world of The Deer, endings are what they are...

'But also,' I said, 'what the fuck are we going to do about Phil?'

Cat looked troubled. 'Wait – you mean he's still there?'

'What? Yes. He went and hid in one of the bedrooms.'

'Oh, crap.' Cat wrung her hands, looking distracted. 'Sorry, I guess I thought he'd already left. He'd always seemed the level-headed one – analytical, you know?'

I sighed. 'Actually, I'm not so sure about that now. I think the analytical stuff was really compensation. From the way he was acting earlier – well, it's like what happens when an anxiety thing reaches the surface, you know?'

I'd thought that would make Cat angry. Instead her face was composed, and she just nodded, once, sharply. 'Yeah. I do, actually.'

Cat had anxiety? Cat? I blinked. But then, I thought about her abrupt moods and her temper. What if that was a form of compensation too? Reidrect the energy into acting angry, so you don't have to act scared?

I said, 'I don't really want to leave him there.'

'I don't really want to go back into that house.'

'Nor do I – which is a problem.' Then inspiration hit. 'Wait, why do we even have to?'

'What do you mean?'

Like I was thinking earlier, remember what century this is. I produced my mobile phone. 'I've got his number. And we're out of range of the brain-squicking. So I'm going to ring him and tell him to come out.'

Cat looked confused, then she looked annoyed, then she threw her hands in the air and laughed. 'Oh, Becky, that's great! Yes, you're completely right. We don't have to do anything dangerous.' She shook her head. 'I think I kept thinking we were on horror movie rules, you know? Where phones never help and all that?'

I nodded. 'Yeah. But of course we've done all the things you shouldn't in a movie.'

'Like open doors, run into the woods, split up.'

'And actually it's working a damn sight better than just sitting there did.'

'All right, dial him and see what happens.'

I dug up Phil's number and rang him. Briefly I wondered if the house would stop him answering the phone. I suspected not. If it could do that, why had it let us make calls in the first place?

The phone beeped.

'Hello?' It was Phil's voice, tinny and small.

I felt my shoulders sag with relief. 'Hi Phil, it's Becky.'

'Becky? Is it really you? I -'

I decided to cut this one off before it went any further. 'We met at that postgrad social do, ages ago. You were drinking a bottle of beer. I don't know what brand, because you always peel the labels off. And you'd done it before we started talking. Your lab is in the Claremont Building, you work with Dr Carter. And you keep insisting on wearing that awful turquoise sweater. Now, does that convince you that I'm not the house?'

'The – house?' He sounded surprised. 'Wait, what about the house?'

'Oh crap, you weren't here for our conversation, were you? Anyway I'm stood here with Cat right now. She's fine, I'm fine.'

'Hey wait, how can you be calling me? I can't reach anyone on my phone!'

'I'm calling you,' I said, speaking carefully and clearly, 'because I'm stood far enough away from the house. It apparently can't brain-fuck us out here. The sky is normal, there's only the old moon. There are no deer, and no weird movements in the woods. It's just another boringly-natural night over here.'

Phil was silent, but I could hear him breathing, a quiet, nervous sussuration. It crackled a little over the airwaves.

I said, 'Phil. There is no beast. The house, or something in it, is what's doing this. You need to come out. Join us. It's safe here.'

'What, in a forest? At night? In the middle of bloody nowhere?' Phil wasn't convinced. And, I do have to admit, he had a point. In any other circumstances, this would be quite mad.

'Yes,' I said, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. 'Look, we've found a nice clearing. We'll get some twigs and shit and we'll make a fire. We'll sit around it and take turns to feed it stuff. It'll be OK. Then when the Sun comes up, we'll walk back to where the road is and we'll hitch a lift back to town. We'll just write this weekend off as one of those mistakes. It'll be fine.'

Next to me, Cat said, 'Or when we're all together, we could even just start walking back to town right away. It'll take a few hours, but the exercise will keep us warm. And it might be nice to get far away from that cabin.'

Phil started laughing. It was an ugly, hysterical sound. 'No. No! No, no, no! I know what this is! It's fucking with my head. You're not here! You're not calling me! You're dead. It's eaten you! It wants to eat me! Well fuck off, you monster. You can't have me!'

He rang off.

Cat met my eyes. 'Umm, I overheard all of that,' she said.

I grimaced. 'Damn. That did not go to plan.' For a moment I felt my old passivity, urging me toward despair and inaction. I refused to co-operate, shaking my head. 'Well, no bother. I'll just go back there and fetch him.'

Cat blanched. 'You're not seriously planning on going into the house?'

I shook my head. 'Of course not. All I have to do is knock on the window or something.'

'And if he doesn't come out?'

'Then I think it's time for us to call the police and let the pros deal with this,' I said.

'I'm not going back to the house,' Cat said.

'You don't have to. Just stay here.'

'Are you going to be … all right?'

'I reckon as long as I don't go inside, it'll be OK,' I said.

Cat looked unconvinced, but she said nothing.

I waited a moment, to see if she'd offer to join me. She didn't. I shrugged. Somewhere in the woods behind us, something ran through the undergrowth. I heard leaves crackling and a twig broke. It was a sharp, clear snap.

I said, 'OK. I'll see you in a bit.'

The walk back to the cabin was anticlimactic. Nothing of any note happened. I'd wondered if I might get lost or something in the woods, but I didn't. It turned out that the route Cat and I had taken followed an approximate depression in the land – it was flanked on either side by two long, earthen ridges. I hadn't really noticed it during our mad run out, but then, my mind had been busy with other things, and the sides of the depression were coated with trees and bushes. It was only obvious when you were calm enough to be specifically-looking for it.

Anyway I just followed the depression right back to the house. I knew I was in the right area when I looked up through a gap in the trees and I saw two wrong moons instead of one correct Moon. Sure enough, a couple of moments later, I stepped out into the clearing. And there was the cabin, door still open, light still pouring out onto the grass.

I stood there and glared at it. I was half-tempted to piled up bits of wood against its side and make a fire – just like I'd told Phil, except more local. I wondered how the house-monster would react to being set alight. Not well, I guessed, but fuck it.

Of course, I had to fetch Phil out first. I didn't want to set him alight. His running off for a private blub had been irritating, granted, but it was hardly death sentence material.

I took another look up at the sky and the double moons, and I frowned. Now that I thought about it, the moons were odd. A half-seen creature in the twilight, a deer, misdialled calls – these were all mundane things, maybe even plausible things in other contexts. But double moons? Just where had the cabin got that idea from?

I listened carefully, but I could hear nothing. There was no wind and no sounds from the woodland. It really was like the house existed in its own bubble of silence.

I felt a little shiver down my back. A bubble of silence. A place that, according to Cat's Googling, did not exist and in fact could not exist. It was almost as if this place was one or two steps removed from the world.

But if you're two steps away from our world, perhaps you can also be two steps away from someone else's?

Two moons. They were the odd detail, the little thing that didn't fit with the rest of it. The cabin didn't seem to make things up, exactly. Frankly, if it had any kind of imagination, it could've fucked with our heads so much more. It seemed to use real elements, re-mixing them and ramming them together to create a fog of fear, uncertainty and doubt.

I can't prove this conclusion. I have no concrete evidence for it, beyond speculation. But, somehow, it felt true all the same. You see, I don't think the two moons were made up. They're not our moons, true, and I suspect they're not the moons of anything that exists anywhere in our sky. There is no telescope that could spy them. They'll never turn up as some odd data-point, or some smudge in a spectrum or some fractionally-mistimed transit. In fact, frankly, I'm not even convinced they're possible in our sky. They seem too close together, and the little blue one should probably be moving a lot faster than that if it's in such a low orbit. And I suspect the Earth would long since have snatched the little one away from the big one, if they were actually here. No, in terms of our world and how it works, they make no sense. They don't live here – they can't live here.

But, I think they may exist in another sky, in a sky that's somewhere else.

And perhaps that sky is above wherever it is that the thing we laughably call 'the cabin' comes from. A place where the cabin makes sense. A place where this is normal. A place I don't ever want to fucking visit.

And no, I have no clue as to how that other sky's creature came to be here, under ours. Somehow, though, I have the strangest feel that nor does it. How could I could know that, I don't know. But, I do wonder, if you open a door into someone's mind, well, some doors swing both ways, you know?

Sometimes the shadow falls before the candle.

I squared my shoulders. It was time to put philosophical introspection aside. I needed to drag Phil's butt out of the cabin.

I marched up to the building. Feeling very brave, I actually climbed onto the veranda. In the silence, I raised my fist and I rapped it three times, sharply, on the frame.

'Phil?' I called. 'It's me. I'm at the door. Come and meet me.'

There was no response. I knocked again, louder this time. 'Phil, seriously, come out!'

Nothing.

I shook my head. 'No way. I am not going in there.'

I considered phoning him again. It occurred to me that I'd probably just get the Speaking Clock again. No point wasting time.

I stomped down from the veranda. I made my way around the perimeter of the house, following it to the back. Then, stood under Phil's window, I repeated the exercise of knocking on it.

There was no response to this, either.

I looked around. Nearby was an old chunk of log, festooned with moss and cracked with age. With a bit of effort I managed to drag it over to the side of the building. I climbed up on top of it and peered in through the window.

It was dark inside, but I was able to shed a little light using the screen of my mobile phone. It revealed an empty, silent room. No-one was there.

'Fuck,' I said.

I climbed down from the log.

For good measure, I tried the other bedroom. I got the same result. No-one was home.

Once more, I climbed down from the log.

'Well,' I said to the cabin, 'thus we reach an impasse.'

Cat was right about one thing, though: I wasn't going to go inside.

Not really knowing what else to do, I left the cabin and walked back to where Cat was waiting. Once I was back under the reassuring white light of the old Moon, I explained the situation.

Cat's face remained grave throughout my short tale. At the end, she just nodded. 'Yeah,' she said. 'I guess I'm not surprised.'

'It's taken him, hasn't it?' I said.

She nodded. 'I reckon so.'

I sighed. The wind moaned through the trees around us. I said, 'I guess it's time to call the police.'

Cat nodded. 'Don't know what good it will do, but yeah.'

So we phoned the police and explained the situation as best we could. We left out the possibly-supernatural stuff, though we told them Phil was missing and we didn't know what had happened. We did allude to the possibility of an animal attack, or maybe something worse. Fortunately Cat still had the directions to the cabin on her phone, so she was able to tell them where we were.

They told us to stay together, stay put and make a fire if we could. I'd thought they might tell us to go back to the cabin or something but to my relief, they didn't.

It took us a few goes but we managed to get a decent fire going. Once there was some light and warmth, I think we both felt better. Those couple of hours were strange, though. We just sat there, staring at the flames. We didn't really speak, or do much of anything, except to feed the odd new branch to the blaze. Rather we just gazed into the ruddy, flickering, dancing light of the fire as it fed on its fuel.

I think it was some time around 3 AM when the police finally found us. We were met by two officers, a guy who didn't speak much and a lady officer whom I think was his boss. Certainly, she did all the talking.

When she arrived, her face was stony.

'Have you found Phil?' I asked her.

She looked at me. 'Can you show us where this cabin was?' she asked. Her face was grave.

At that point, I knew something wasn't right.

'Sure,' I said. 'Follow me.'

The two officers agreed to split up. The guy stayed at the fire with Cat. He didn't say much, but there was a haunted look in his eyes. The woman went with me. She had a spare flashlight, which she handed over. We walked back along the depression, the ridges on either side of us. Two pools of bright, clear torchlight moved across the undergrowth ahead of us. Angular, distorted shadows jittered and twisted away from us as we progressed.

As we walked, I kept half an eye on the sky, eagerly watching each gap in the leaves above us. To my surprise, the normal Moon stayed in the sky the whole time. And the woods remained noisy – branches creaked, things skittered in the undergrowth and occasional birds made themselves known, somewhere in the nocturnal vastness.

At no point did I feel any sense of the cabin's presence.

Then we reached the cabin's clearing.

'Oh,' I said.

It was gone.

Or rather, it was not entirely gone. In the centre of the clearing there was a small, ruined building. It was about half the size of the cabin we'd been in earlier. It had clearly been abandoned for a long time. There was no trace of a roof, and all the beams were rotten and damaged.

'This is where you were?' the officer asked me.

I stared. 'It – uh, this is the right location. But...' I shook my head. 'That's a ruin. It's nothing like the building we were in.'

'Are you sure?' the officer asked me.

'I'm – I'll take a closer look,' I said. I said it mainly just to cover how dumbfounded I felt. What had happened? Had there ever been a cabin in the woods? Was it all just some weird hallucination? Had we been sat here, out amongst rotten planks and mossy-covered half-walls, imagining the warmth and light?

I walked over to the small, sad ruin. I looked down and -

'Oh God,' I said, drawing my breath in sharply. 'Oh fucking hell.'

In an instant, the officer was at my side. 'What is it?' she asked.

Wordlessly, I pointed my flashlight.

Lying amongst the debris was a skeleton. It had been picked clean, there was just bare bone. But it was recognisably a human male, and it had been the right height to be Phil.

'Fuck,' the officer said. I couldn't agree more with her summary of the situation.

And, to be honest, that's basically where our tale ends. Cat and I were driven back to the city, sat in the back of the officers' patrol car. We had a long night of statements being taken and stories recorded and people trying to make any sense out of what had happened. There was some confusion for a time, and I think the officers wondered whether me and Cat had done the deed. But there was no motive – we were good friends, not enemies, and Phil didn't owe any of us money. There was also nothing resembling a murder weapon.

(Phil-then-Cat's kitchen knife had somehow disappeared during the night. I suspect it may have evaporated with the cabin. Either that or we just dropped it somewhere in the woods.)

But there was also another final, weird discovery. The skeleton we stumbled across was sent for a forensic analysis. I'm not sure you could really call it an autopsy by this stage. I understand that they did manage to match it to Phil by dental records, but there was a problem. Apparently the examining technicians noticed a lot of damage and decay on the bones, more than could be accounted for from a few hours dead. The details get confused at this point, but I understand there was some sort of effort to carbon-date the remains, or something like that.

The results claimed that the body had been there for more than two hundred years. This was obviously impossible – Phil was only thirty-one – but nonetheless, this is what they found on re-running the same analysis. I gather they even tried a different lab, under conditions of anonymity, and got the same result.

In the end the case got swept away. Phil was declared dead – Cat and I went to the funeral – and the investigation was closed. I don't think anyone wanted to think too closely about what had happened, or how.

But here's what I think. I think the cabin decided to cut its losses. It wasn't going to get three meals, but one would do. I think it went back to wherever it came from. And I think it tried to take Phil with it – but something went wrong. I don't know what you'd call this, time dilation maybe, or voodoo, but the body was prematurely aged. Perhaps it couldn't quite take the skeleton for some reason – maybe bone is too like rock, and thus too close to the Earth to leave it? Anyway, I don't know. But I'm glad the damn things gone. I'm sorry for what happened to Phil, but he made his choice, and we did what we could. I'm glad we stopped it from happening to us.

But I will say one thing – if you ever see an advert for a cheap weekend break, in a cabin in the woods? Don't. Just fucking don't.

[londonlanded]

Week 29

Alright, it’s time for one last hurrah - aka, this week I went on my last trip before the regularity of a Monday to Friday schedule rears its predictable head. 

Monday was a typical workday that ended with a fabulous surprise in the form of my second free Four Seasons massage, courtesy of my lovely friend Pau who wanted to give me a leaving gift in the form of 90 minutes of care that my muscles more than needed. He also passed along the information that ours was the only 5 star hotel that boasts a 5 star spa in Europe, and he encouraged me to take advantage of the other facilities while I was there. 

It was one of the few times I was grateful for London’s early evenings, since it meant the end of my massage coincided with a beautiful sunset that just happened to be best viewed from the sauna. I headed home a happy girl. 

Tuesday took a turn for the strange when I fell quite ill quite quickly, managed to rally enough to meet my friend Giulia at Heathrow but not before questioning calling the whole trip off. No better way to test the limits of my own stubbornness than to give me a stomach bug on my first day of a planned trip. Regardless of my state and pace (bad and slow), I made it to the airport and through our short journey to Belfast City Airport. Waiting for us with open arms (and driving the same car he had the last time I saw him a decade ago, lefthand drive and all), was Keith, one of my dad’s ex-trainees who was born and raised in Northern Ireland before the stint in Toronto that brought him and his young family into our lives. We quickly popped home so I could see his family, and I found myself face to face with two boys, taller than me, both with the goal of following in their father’s medical footsteps. Last time I saw them, my siblings and I were forcing the youngest one to repeatedly say the word “eight” in his adorable accent because we thought it was the funniest thing we had ever heard. Time has one hell of a way of changing, aging people. Keith brought us home and we settled into our hostel for the evening, but not before meeting two Canadians who we realized would also be two of the people that would be sharing our day tour the next day.

Wednesday morning, met Paul our tour guide right beside the Europa hotel, which Keith had pointed out as being the number one most bombed hotel in Europe thanks to the IRA choosing it as its main target. We found out later that it was the number one location for journalists to stay while in Belfast documenting the conflict in Northern Irerland, so any time the IRA wanted to make sure an attack got international attention, it made (contextual) sense to bomb the very place those documenting everything were sleeping. 

We set off, and as we left Belfast proper, the weather changed more drastically than I had almost ever seen. The world went gradually, peacefully grey, before turning black all at once. It was the kind of sky you looked up at and realized you were literally looking at your day’s luck changing. Behind us, bright blue, ahead of us was a Northern Irish storm. Still, we ploughed on, and in spite of Paul’s initial warnings that we’d have to skip our first stop due to the weather, we arrived at the Dark Hedges right on time after he decided we could pull it off after all. 

The Dark Hedges are simply someone’s driveway - the property owner decided to line his drive with arching birch trees and what came of his agricultural endeavours are what are now frequently used as a set for a number of Game of Thrones episodes. The car and foot traffic has damaged a ton of the trees, so the road is now pedestrian only though some locals still drive on it illegally. 

As we approached the mouth of the road, the wind picked up and a murder of crows leapt up from the grassy cornfield to our right, they swarmed and shouted above us as our little group walked under the first of the massive, arching trees. A few seconds later, massive wet snowflakes began to fall on us, and I remember thinking the place had a darkness about it regardless of the Game of Thrones association. 

Up next, Bushmills distillery, the oldest Whiskey distillery in Northern Ireland (note, Whiskey is Irish, Whisky is Scottish). It’s a company that’s managed to weave itself in to the fabric of the country, but it also plays an integral role in the local community. In years where tourism was slow, it kept locals employed, even during times where the entire country’s economy was suffering. This distillery is so important to the people of NI that it’s even on their five pound notes, which I only noticed on our last day in the country while Giulia was paying for lunch. 

On our way out of town, we stopped at Dunluce castle for a photo op, just as the sun began to shine again. Dare I say, I was getting hopeful about the weather? 

15 minutes down the road, Paul let us off at the top of the walkway down to the Giant’s Causeway. You can take a shuttle down for 1 pound, but we felt brave in the newfound almost-sunshine. Ten minutes walking, and you make it down to NI’s number one most well-known tourist attraction, and just as we made it to the bottom, the weather welcomed us enthusiastically. 

Through sideways rain and flying seafoam, G and I clambered all over the hexagonal basalt columns that make the causeway so famous. They were truly one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen, geologists theorize that they’re left over from a volcanic eruption but Paul offered a skeptical ‘well no one’s ever showed me no volcano,’ as his thoughts on that. Amusingly, clambering on top of slippery rocks brought some life back into me that I had forgotten I had, I wound up scaling the stones while G sort of watched me dance with my own demise, armed of course with her camera. 

I’ve genuinely never felt more stupid than I did while standing atop some of those stones, with the wind, rain, and foam flying at me from every direction, I thought I was about to meet my end. Thankfully, the local guards stepped in and pulled us all off the rocks before anyone got too carried away, but they let us have more than a satisfactory amount of adventure before pulling the plug. 

Giulia actually had to pay for the shuttle back to the top of the cliff face since my hands were too numb to sort out my change, we wound up in a local cafe where G ate and I used their fireplace as a personal full-body dryer. While I can’t comment on the food, the ambiance of The Nook more than made up for my inability to feel my extremities. 

With the main event over, I was sort of skeptical I’d get much out of the rest of our day, but I was more than pleasantly surprised with how the rest of our adventure transpired. An hour later, unfazed by the weather at our last stop, we made it to the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge, which marked the end of a 1km pathway from the park entrance. Paul parked and set us free once more, we paid for tickets to cross the 60 foot bridge waiting for us at the end of our walk, and we set off once again. 

The walk actually wound up being the most beautiful part of the day, at least in my opinion, in spite of the weather descending beyond even what it was at the causeway. 

There were literally gale force winds coming at us in every direction, there were hailstones collecting in the rain puddles we were dodging on the unpaved path, we were trying to hold onto railings that weren’t completely anchored into the muddy earth that framed our glistening, stony walkway. 

Having feeling in my hands became a thing of the past, forget being dextrous enough to bother refastening my hood, it’s not like my hair was salvageable anyway. 

Regardless, we were met with some of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve ever seen, Giulia’s little pink raincoat made for an easy subject. 

The rope bridge was initially built so that fisherman could make it from one little island over to the mainland, with their fishing gear in tow. A few months ago, the bridge was redone to be made safer and steadier, but before those refurbishments it was actually much more similar to how it was when it was built however many years ago when it was still being used for its initial purpose. The bridge only had a railing on one side so that fisherman could stabilize themselves without having to hoist their fishing gear above shoulder height and out of the way of where a second railing would have been. The modern version of course has two railings, and none of the boards are missing from the footpath either, much to tourguide Paul’s chagrin. 

Unfortunately, once we made it to the bridge, they (expectedly) told us they’d closed the walkway due to the rain, but we still were glad to have made it far enough to see it. On the way back, my Canadian companions caught up to us, one of them was bloodied and the other was sort of confused looking, but her expression was also blended in with a bit of pride. The bloody one announced to us she had just saved a local farmer’s sheep from being tangled in a broken fence, and I’ll admit that there have been few moments where I’ve been prouder to be Canadian than at the moment I was told my countrywoman was playing sheep Jesus. 

A few hours back to the city, G and I braved local NI trains and made it to Keith’s neighbourhood of Holywood (pronounced like the California version oddly enough), where he fed us and took care of us, and ensured the two of us were warmer than we’d been all day. 

Thursday morning while G slept in, I headed downstairs for a tea and wound up chatting to Brett at our hostel's reception, who recommended that we do a Black Taxi tour of the city that morning. For £35, you can take a tour of the city from a local who's lived through its recent past, including the years of tumult that lead up to things being as they are. I'll admit I was quite naive to the state of Northern Ireland before arriving in it, but a quick google got G and up to date before Walter, our driver arrived. 

He started by showing us the area we were in, pointing out Queen's University Belfast as the main landmark nearby. He told us the story of its construction, and said that an identical but smaller version was built in nearby Glasgow. Apparently the smaller one was actually supposed to be built in Belfast, but the plans got swapped by 'accident' and the larger building wound up being put up. It's a beautiful building, and its responsible for attracting most of the people that reside in the area near the hostel, South Belfast. 

From there, the real tour started, and we were shown a side of Belfast we were definitely not expecting. Though the conflict between the Catholic and Protestant communities in Ireland can be traced back hundreds of years, back to when the Protestants were first invited to live in England by the British, the modern cause stems back from a Protestant government in 1969 that was viewed as treating Catholic and Protestant communities unfairly. This government favoured the middle class, and did not allow for many reforms that would have made life easier for those not in it. That in itself might not have been a standalone issue, but the problem was that most of the Protestant population was included in the middle class, so they did not feel the unfairness as heavily as the Catholic, working-class population did. The closest thing the government did to reforming anything was when they put up what are called 'kitchen houses' throughout Belfast, they were called this because while these strings of connected houses had kitchens, they lacked bathrooms entirely. These were built externally, which meant you had to walk across the driveway to make use of communal restrooms. Modern modifications of those kitchen houses can be identified by the fact that they're a long rectangular stretch of conjoined buildings, but moreso by the addition of single small bathrooms at the back of each house in light of the progress that's been observed since they were first put up. 

In any case, the reason this government was deemed unfair seems to be that the Protestant population felt as though everyone was being treated unfairly due to their mostly-middle class view of the state of things, while the Catholic population saw that the government was being much harder on the working-class in light of the fact that they made up the majority of it. This disagreement led to the conflict that still polarizes West Belfast today. This was what inspired the beginning of what's known as 'The Troubles' in 1969. 

Soon after they began, the British stepped in to try and ensure that peace reigned between the two sides. To try and do that, they proposed building a 'peace wall' between the two warring sides, with the intent of leaving it up for 6 months while the conflict settled (spoiler alert, the wall is still up today). It was built on Cooper Street which naturally bisected the two communities. Protestants move slightly north, Catholics slightly south of their newfound border. The British remained involved until 1971, when the Irish Republican Army became hostile, and attacked some of the British soldiers there, at which point they removed themselves from the area as the conflict began to escalate. At the heart of the conflict was a Catholic desire to leave Britain, and a Protestant desire to remain a part of it. 

We started our tour by driving into the Eastern, Catholic side of West Belfast, where we began seeing the first signs that not all was as idyllic as our initial impressions of Belfast led us to believe. Black cabs, identical to those in London, whizzed past us on the street. Walter told us how, during the peak time of conflict, public transport was both unreliable and frankly dangerous. Busses were being burned in protest, and so the IRA responded by purchasing a host of London's black cabs and driving them up and down the main roads themselves. This served a dual purpose, both as a transport system for the citizens that had been left without transport, but also as a way for the IRA to remain informed about everyone's movement throughout the city. Walter said that there's nothing going on that the IRA doesn't know, and that to this day, ex-IRA members drive the cabs on the Catholic side of the wall, even though busses now safely run. 

The two sides of the wall are drastically different in ambiance and aesthetic. On both sides of the wall, local artists have turned to artwork to express their political inclinations. Walter intimated that while there were aspects of their statements he didn't agree with, the art and murals themselves were quite tastefully done. He explained a ton of them but I can't pretend I know every detail, but in brief, the polarization of both sides was palatable in the artwork. It's amazing how close two communities could live to each other while sharing such radically different ideals. The Catholic side had portraits of everyone from Fidel Castro to Che Guevara, there were pro-palestine signs and Irish flags painted beside portraits of hunger strikers who had died, text in Irish language and statements that peace is harder than war when it's not real resolution. The Protestant side was the blunt opposite, there were pro-Israel pieces beside pro-Britain murals, paintings of their lost hunger strikers and statements made by Protestant politicians acknowledging the wrongs of the government and addressing the conflict.

The loudest contrast, at least in my mind, was illustrated by two gardens with identical commemorative purposes, but for people on opposite sides of the same war. On the Catholic side, a garden commemorating lost members of the IRA stands tall near one of the four gates in the wall. On the Protestant side, a garden commemorating people killed by the IRA stands clearly on the main street of that side, they were identical in purpose but completely opposite in content. 

The gate itself spans the entirety of West Belfast and still closes every single night, which Walter says is indicative of the mistrust between both communities. There are four gates, and each one of them is controlled by members of government from each side. One closes at 4PM, 7PM, 8PM and and the final one closes at 10PM. You can still cross from one side to the other after 10PM, but you need to pass through central Belfast in order to do so. It's an inconvenience that's one of the clearest signs that the peace we observed at the time has nothing to do with having reached a resolution, and only to do with having become exhausted with constant and persistent conflict. 

Another element of that stark contrast was that while the Catholic side of the wall was incorporated into people's backyards, made up their fences and was generally undecorated and unmarked both by government and by citizens, the Protestant side was the complete opposite. Perhaps it has more to do with the way the wall was built, but the fact that the Catholic side of the wall is right up against a ton of houses and a factory somewhat limits it in terms of its function as a potential canvas. 

That same limitation does not exist on the Protestant side, in that the wall is built on the far side of Cooper Street away from most of the buildings on that side of the divide. That distance perhaps led to artwork being justified, but regardless of the reasoning, Walter had come prepared with towels to dry the painted wall, and sharpies for us to sign it ourselves. Apparently it's painted over every year, and adding artwork is actually encouraged. Messages of peace, patriotism, hope and everything in between blanketed the blue base coat of paint, G and I added our own two cents to the nearly-covered wall. 

We were dropped off at our hostel to pick up our stuff, and after a moments rest we were up again and off to find a final adventure before g caught her airport bus. We found ourselves at the towns city hall, which actually had a pretty excellent self guided tour, and was stunning enough just in terms of its construction. 

Turns out there’s a lot more to know about Northern Ireland than I imagined. Of note, the entirety of Belfast’s governing body is currently female, and it isn’t even the first time it’s happened as it occurred once before back in 2014. There are still some words that are native Irish in origin that are used colloquially today (for some reason I didn’t take note of any though, not my finest journalism). There are also some remnants of Shakespeare’s English due to the fact that, well, England and its neighbours are an island and therefore somewhat separated from mainland linguistic dilution. I can hardly understand some Irish at the best of moments though, perhaps that’s why? 

There’s also strong desire (or stated desire at least) for peace between the two still-warring sides of the troubles conflict. Like I said, it’s not that peace reigns at the moment because a problem has been solved, it’s more about the maintenance of a ceasefire than it is about having found a solution to what ails both sides. 

Inside city hall was an entire room dedicated to statements from those who had lost people on both sides of the conflict, profound and acute is the desire for peace, the universality of human loss the clear undertone of what we read. 

I know most of you are probably wondering where the titanic stuff is going to come in, hate to disappoint but we elected to skip that part of the city. We did learn a bit while at the city hall, most notably that the titanic sunk only 12 days after leaving port, but beyond that t and I were mostly interested in everybody else the town had to offer. We left city hall and meandered to whites tavern, the second oldest tavern in Belfast.

G caught her bus but I found one more adventure in the form of the linen hall library, which was dedicated to documenting the political comedy that surrounded the troubles themselves. 

The whole four story affair is decorated with tapestries depicting artistic interpretations of both sides of the conflict, and while I had to leave the members area I still managed to find somewhere to sit and enjoy a national geographic while waiting for my turn to set off. 

My flight was a mere 45 minutes long, and before I knew it I was aboard the bus to Edinburgh after having landed in cold and clear Scotland. No borders, no problem, I was with my friend Rachel in the centre of the city within an hour of landing. The next morning, our grand foot tour of the city began, but only after a tea and a coffee at Rach's favourite cafe. From there, we hiked up Arthur's seat, which is probably what Edinburgh is most famous for if not for it being the place Harry Potter was conceptualized and partly written. 

It was a fairly painless hike and the reward was one of the most beautiful views I've seen on any of my travels, especially of a bustling city. 

Rach and I weren't exactly in tip top shape (she was coming down with a cold, I was still running on nearly 0 fuel thanks to my protesting organs) so we took it slow, but we still managed to somehow tally almost 30000 steps worth of exploration that day. We headed down through town to see the gorgeous centre. 

Basically, the entire city looked like the photo below in different sized versions. The whole place is just a connected series of spires, stained glass, and time-stained stone. I wound up taking so many photos Rach started to make fun of me, so here’s just one of them. 

From there, we headed to Dean village, which is pretty much the cutest little area I could ever imagine, and was worth every bit of trespassing we did to snap our photos. 

From there, Rach took me to the Elephant House cafe, which became famous thanks to JK Rowling having penned her first book from the comfort of its cozy back room. Out front, there's actually a metal plaque outlining that JK had been there. 

The vibe inside was actually something I would have dug myself had I had more time to appreciate it - there was even a sign that said something along the lines of "we have no WiFi, talk to each other, pretend it's 1995" which made me smile. When you look out the back window of the place, Edinburgh's castle looms above you, and apparently that was the view that JK saw when she thought of Hogwarts. After seeing the town she used as inspiration for her novel, it all sort of makes sense how Harry's world came to be. 

Rach and I ended the day at a Jazz bar with a couple of her friends, and though I didn't know it at the time, we were at one of the most popular Jazz spots in the city. I suppose that's the magic of a small town though, it's really not hard to hit the best places when everything's so perfectly close together. 

Saturday morning, my last day with Rach, we woke up and stopped at two farmer's markets on the way to the Surgeon's Museum which was beyond incredible if not a little draining considering its jarringly painful-looking content, combined with the fact that it was the most cognitively engaging thing I had done since arriving in London I think. I couldn't take photos because the specimens were human, but I strongly recommend that place to anyone who's in Edinburgh with a few hours and £7 to kill. 

Last but not least, Rachel made sure I had the ultimate taste of Scotland. This dish is called haggis, nips and tatties, and that's short for haggis, turnips, and mashed potatoes. It's served with gravy, and this little trifecta is a delicious, hearty, and earthy meal if I've ever seen one. The haggis takes a second to wrap your head around, but I promise it's at least worth the try. We cleaned the whole plate off of course, I'm not sure how my stomach felt about my first real meal consisting of a combination of oats, sheep organs and suet, but my mouth was pretty happy regardless. 

With two minutes to spare, Rach walked me to my bus and before I knew it, I was back at the airport with years of time to kill (typical me). I was reminded later that evening that no matter the weather on the ground, the world above the clouds can be more glorious than words can convey. 

After landing that evening, I had a quiet shift on Sunday with none other than my little Giulia, who made my return to real life about as palatable as it could have been. 

Next week, a really out of the ordinary dose of luxury I never in a million years imagined I'd be getting! 

e