#every time i log on to refill my queue it's just

[fcsources]

you disappeared again :(

yeah sorry y'all aren't acting right atm so i'm not here very much for my mental health ✌️

[yeoldontknow]

❧ check in tag

tagged by the sweetest angel @propinqxity to do this little tag. this is such a cute list of questions, and some of these i dont think ive been asked before. thank you so much for the tag and the tumblr crush mention lovely. you truly are a bright spot on this website and i mean that sincerely <333

going under a cut because im certain i will ramble ~

1. Why did you choose this url?

its sort of like a pun between yall dont know and the fact that, hopefully, sincerely, chanyeol does not in fact know that i run this blog lmao i changed to this after a long time of being bread-jinie and i wanted to rebrand. i will, however, do my best to never change URLs again because the masterlist switch over was a complete hassle

2. Any sideblogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them

i have a fic recs blog called @yeoldontknowiread. as to why i have it, i know it hasnt been updated in ages since ive been kind of on hiatus, but i think reading and sharing work on this platform is immensely important. i actually read quite a lot of fanfiction, and i try my best to share the things i read. im very very behind on recs at the moment cause i try my best to write something substantial for every recommendation i make. as a writer, i know exactly the kinds of thoughts and feedback on fics that make my heart soar so i try to put in the same energy to my recs. community is only fostered when there is reciprocation

3. How long have you been on Tumblr?

hmmm since april 2017. i actually had my 4 year anniversary this year and i did have plans for things but i got roped into real life things and couldnt celebrate the way i truly wanted to :(

4. Do you have a queue tag?

no but sometimes i think i should. i view tags as a library on top of my knee jerk response to things. most of my tags are just my initial thoughts or feelings at any given moment, so those take precedence over a specific queue tag

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

when i was getting into exo, i was reading fanfiction like crazy. i used to write fanfic quite a lot in other fandoms, but at that time i hadnt written anything in about 2.5 years. exo was the first re-introduction to that feeling of excitement and inspiration. after about 3 weeks of straight reading, i decided i wanted to write again. i wrote the prologue to hero in about two hours and tried logging into AO3 to post it. sadly i forgot all of my log in information because it had been years, and was getting frustrated. i really wanted to put it somewhere out of fear that id lose interest if i didnt do something with it, and everything id read had been on tumblr. so i made a tumblr just to put hero lmao i didnt have any mutuals. it was a blog with straight 0. i hadnt even created an account to interact with writers before that moment, i really thought id be a silent reader forever. but exo woke me back up and for that i am eternally grateful.

6. Why did you choose your icon?

the yours music video is...so stunning? like the colour theory throughout the whole thing is truly so inspiring and gorgeous. and this shot of chanyeol looking at the painting took my breath away, truly. tulips and the color of peach, like do you know how evocative that is? ugh

7. Why did you choose your header

my header was made by @jamaisjoons for my birthday this year because shes literally the most talented person when it comes to graphics. and this was so kind of her to do, i cried a lot

8. What's your post with the most notes?

uhm....either the body through time or truth i cant remember which but i checked recently and its one of those

9. How many mutuals do you have?

honestly at this point im not even sure. i know ive lost a bunch while i was on hiatus because i was basically a dead blog, and some people do dash cleanses. and im certain others have left, too, for their own reasons. still, i have a good core of friends though who are active and that is enough for me

10. How many followers do you have?

more than i probably deserve

11. How many people do you follow?

399

12. Have you ever made a shitpost?

uhm i guess? there was a time when nng was not updated and every wednesday id post the days go by music video in sadness and grief but im not a big shitposter. if i make a text post its usually a life update or me crying about chanyeol, theres no inbetween lmao

13. How often do you use Tumblr every day?

tbh i havent used tumblr that often, not since march i think. i used to use it many times a day, checking in on friends and stuff, but once i started focusing on my phd applications i was only here sporadically. i didnt make an announcement either, just let my blog run on queue so i wasnt totally gone. i think i was checking in twice a week or maybe once every two weeks to refill my queue and check mentions etc. but now that my interviews are done im trying to get back on here daily to reconnect

14. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

ive had my share of disagreements with people and any details about those situations shall remain as they are meant to: private

15. How do you feel about "you need to reblog this" posts?

in what context? like, you need to reblog this or your wish wont come true? or like, please reblog this to spread the word/spread awareness, etc? in the case for the former, i scroll right by. in the case of the latter, if im around and see someone raising a go fund me or some major event is occurring and i find a post with good sources or charities i will reblog. mostly though, the full extent my activism isnt really on this blog. its my escape from reality. my activism is usually placed on other platforms.

16. Do you like tag games?

i doooo!!! theyre so fun i love learning about my friends

17. do you like ask games?

i love those too! theyre so cute and usually a nice way to have interaction immediacy with people in the community

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is Tumblr famous?

no one. can we please abandon this notion of fame on tumblr? arent we all here to write about some dick and some smut and some fluff and then hang out together and log off? lmao tumblr isnt reality and followers/fame is so arbitrary on this platform, no one has any control over any of it

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

i am in love with so many people here. let me name a few:

@yehet-me-up @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @j-pping @jamaisjoons @inkedtae @kookdiaries @yoonia @dulcetvk @kithtaehyung @imdifferentshadesofpurple @ditzymax @sugaurora @sahmbtsficrecs @junghelioseok @yeojaa @augustbutwinter @joonscore @btssavedmylifeblr @cutechim @sunshinekims @kimtaehyunq @ouvuo @delhyun @exo-stentialism @sooibian @softyoongiionly @jinseunie @zibermuda @bratkook @1kook @luffles424 @xjoonchildx

and so many other people and mutuals that i am certainly forgetting. love is such an expansive feeling, and it encompasses platonic ardor and creative desire. i admire every single person listed for so many different reasons, and cherish and treasure them or what they provide to the community. love is such an important and broad experience. truly, i hope they feel adored every single day x

[wickedsingularity]

Hiatus

I’ve been thinking about this for a few days, and now I’m making the decision.

It’s a hard time for everyone, with this damn pandemic, and everything. I’m constantly worried about my family, my best friend, even my coworkers and their families. And things are very turbulent at work, to put it mildly. Every day I wake up not knowing how long I will have a job, and that is not because of covid-19. Covid-19 seem to just have come at an opportune time so the board can use it against us.

I’ve been trying so hard, but I don’t know how to deal with all this. And now that we’re not allowed to see anyone, I don’t know where to turn, where to go. Besides, everyone got their own things to deal with and no one needs my stupid drama on top of that. I have to sort myself out before something happens, and there’s nowhere to turn but to myself.

So, I’m going on hiatus. I don’t know for how long. I’ve got enough in my queue to last through April. I might be back after Easter break. Or maybe May 1st, or I’ll just stop by then to refill my queue. We’ll see.

Everyone please stay safe, wash your hands, and take care of each other. I love you all... If anyone needs me, they know where to find me.

Logging off.

[ephrampettaline]

chatzy autumn fair log with @ephrampettaline, @freddiewatts, @ianncardero, @mayaparker, and @scarlettxruby

Maya walked through the autumn festival with Hermes still by her side. Aside from that first night at carnival, things had been pretty calm. Although she was still a little on edge. But she was determined to have fun, which explained why she was already two drinks in. She had just bought another one when she spotted a chalkboard sign for a hayride. "Oh shit," she glanced down at the husky at her side, "What do you say? Hayride time?"

Ephram watched as the couple behind him in line peeled away for some reason, conferring intensely between themselves as they left the hayride area; he caught sight of Maya waiting behind them, and said, "Oh, hey! Or should I say hay?" Ephram chortled, despite the fact that this joke didn't really translate well out loud.

Maya looked up at the sound of someone calling out to her. Or at least calling out in her general direction. It took her a second to register the joke. Her brow briefly furrowed. Hermes stood by her side, watching Ephram carefully. "Oh," she said, shaking her hand and taking a step forward, "Hay as in hayride. Sorry, I've caught up."

Ephram scratched his elbow, saying, "Aaaaaah, it was corny, I don't blame you. But at least you'll probly get on this trip, though, now that those folks moseyed off for whatever. Let's hope it ain't because they know somethang that we don't, eh?"

Maya shrugged. She didn't mind corny jokes. But he was right that the homophone pun hadn't come across immediately when spoken. She took a sip of her hot toddy and nodded. "Yeah, think I will," she agreed before adding, "Assuming they let dogs on." Glancing in the direction of the couple, she shrugged, "Nah, they were 'not fighting' about something else." She put heavy air quotes around not fighting. She hadn't been eavesdropping on purpose, but voices carried in the chilly fall air. It had been kind of hard not to.

Ephram himself had a bright pink travel mug of hazelnut hot chocolate -- pay one price and it would refill itself automatically so long as you were on the fairgrounds -- and he drank deeply from it, bound and determined to get his money's worth. "Of course they'll let dogs on! In this town? They'd find themselves slapped with a discrimination suit if they din't allow animals of any and all form."

Maya had to give him that. With so many familiars about, it would be hard to refuse animals on any ride. "True," she said, "Forgot it was Soapberry for a second there."

Ephram looked at her curiously at that statement. Historically, his asking Maya any questions about herself hadn't gone well, but ... things changed, right? So he ventured, "...you been ruminating on other places to be lately?"

The furrow in Maya's brow returned. "Have I what?" she asked, genuinely not understanding the question.

Ephram gestured vaguely with his cup. "I dunno, just ... you said you forgot it was Soapberry. In the middle of the Autumn Fair's a pretty hard place to forget you're in Soapberry, is all." Considering all the Soapberry-grade shenanigans going on everywhere they looked.

Maya shook her head. While she had been thinking about returning to New York or maybe just moving somewhere else entirely, she and Ephram were hardly close enough that she would mention that. "I just lived the first twenty four years of my life in places where pets were just pets," she explained, "I'm still not quite in the Soapberry state of mind."

Ephram nodded politely. "Ah, gotcha. It's different for me. I mean I lived thirty years in the Outworld not knowin' bout magical stuff but I sucked up all this Soapberry state of affairs like a sponge in a bucket. Funny how that works."

Maya considered before replying, "Probably just depends on the person. I've never really been the soak it up like a sponge kind of person." She nodded towards the growing space between Ephram and the line in front of him. The next cart had been loaded up and trundled off, leaving Ephram at the front of the line.

Ephram obligingly moved up, wondering aloud, "Do they got more'n one cart? Or do we gotta wait until that one finishes its route and dumps them people off first? I mean I been on hayrides, but those times was always just the one cart. Small town style."

Maya wasn't sure if Ephram was really asking her or not. Hermes had followed them up and was now watching the crowd to their right. It seemed he had smelled them. "I've seen two different drivers, so they probably got two different carts," she offered, "Although it could've just been the other guy went on break."

Ruby had left the petting zoo with a pocketful of something small and fluffy. She thought it might be a chinchilla, but she wasn't sure. She was sure that it liked churros. Which she was currently feeding into the pocket of her hoodie as she moved towards the line for the hayride.

Hermes barked once in greeting. Maya's head whipped to see what he was barking at, almost spilling her drink as she did so. Every one of her muscles tensed, ready either to run or to fight. But then she spotted Ruby walking towards them. Relaxing, she smiled, "Hey Ruby."

Ephram lifted his pink cup at Ruby too in greeting. "Hey-ooo!"

Ruby looked up from feeding her pocket to wave at the others. She gave Hermes a pat on the head as she came over, offering the dog a piece of the churro if he wanted it. Her hoodie pouch wiggled, and Ruby gave it more food before it fell still again. "What kinda hayride they got goin'?" she asked, realizing there didn't seem to be many other waiting. "Not haunted is it?"

Maya tilted her head a little as she caught Ruby looking up from her pocket. Hermes wandered over, having long since decided that Ruby was a friend. He snapped up the offered churro. "I think just a regular one," Maya replied, "From what I heard tonight's more about cozy than spooky. Gotta let people calm down a little before the main event, you know?"

Ephram sipped at his hot chocolate. "Are they gonna turn it haunted after?"

Oh. Well, okay then. Don't really feel up to anythin' scary." Ruby fed a bit more churro to Hermes and to her pocket - apparently the churro kept slowly renewing itself - before frowning a bit. "What's the main event? And you think they will?" she asked as an addition to Ephram's question.

Maya found herself distracted again by Ruby's pocket. Her eyes narrowed a little, but she said nothing. Not yet at least. "Assuming you mean the main event tonight, it's a bonfire," she said instead and with a shrug she said, "And I think its shutting down for the night after that." She took another sip of her drink. Glancing down at Hermes, she mouthed, "What's she got in there?" Hermes just looked up at her, wearing a dog's smile. Maya shook her head, clearly the husky was easily bribed

Ephram hung back a little, watching Maya and her dog and Ruby and her pocket animal without much interest. He'd already spent an afternoon at the fair with Ciara and the other witch being distracted by Molly and the gitturns; it seemed like everybody was surrounding themselves with pets lately. Ephram pondered to himself if it was a feature of small-town osmosis, or some new stranger Soapberry thingamajiggy.

Freddie, having left Ollie chatting with Marita Cooper, caught sight of his husband across the fairground - big blond yeti-boys were hard to miss - and made his way over to the queue his sweetheart was standing in; smiling and chatting and glad-handing his way up through the waiting crowd until he came to a stop behind his darling and slipped his hands into Ephram's pockets. "Hello, love", he said, "What are we in line for?"

"So no, I guess, to properly answer your question," Maya said, "I think it's not supposed to be haunted after."

Ephram extended a leg to tap the sign with his toe, summarily having to hustle to lean forward and prevent it from falling over. "Whoops," he huffed, rubbing his nose in momentary contrition before bumping against Freddie. "Hayride, to answer your question. And a not-haunted hayride at that! You ever been on one?"

"Never in my life," Freddie said, "What do we do? If anything."

Ruby liked bonfires, and made a mental note to try and make it out. She was about to say something to Maya when her pocket gave a might wriggle and the little chinchilla leapt out and onto the ground, darting away and into the crowd. "Shit," Ruby said to herself, giving a hasty wave goodbye as she darted after it into the crowd.

Ephram handed Freddie his hot chocolate. "Hazelnut," he said by way of explanation, and then, "we sit in the cart, on a bunch of hay, while they drive us around. Hey, Maya -- d'you know if there's any special sights or anythang? On the ride?"

"Um, hi," Maya said, "And nah, you just sit and..." She weighed her next phrase before saying, "I mean, in high school we just made out so." She offered a shrug. As far as Ephram's question, she answered, "I only know what's on the sign." She turned her head as Ruby darted off. At least the small chinchilla, as far as she could tell, running off explained what Ruby'd had in her pocket.

Freddie took Ephram's cup and sipped his rather nice hot chocolate before wrinkling his nose at the lacklustre report on an activity apparently worth queuing up for. "We just sit in a pile of hay?" he asked, "Why? And where are they driving us?"

Ephram hummed. "Maybe you missed the 'making out' part of the explanation," he teased, before shaking his head. A public Soapberry event wasn't exactly Ephram's preferred place for making out, especially as the sheriff. "It's a thing to do! At fall fairs and whatnot." He looked around for one of the Carnival volunteers in their flashing green vests, hailing one and asking, "Anything special about this hayride? Afore we commit ourselves to it for twenty minutes."

Freddie pouted for a moment, knowing his husband well enough to know that he likely wasn't going to be doing any making out here amongst Soapberry's family fun contingent. "My arse is going to freeze off, isn't it?" he grumbled. "I'll need to glamour us a blanket."

Maya nodded as Freddie didn't acknowledge her greeting. She took another sip of her hot toddy. As Ephram asked if there was anything particularly special about this hayride, she listened, curious. The attendant grinned, "Of course there is. But if I tell you that'd ruin the surprise." Maya had to laugh at the over the top salesmanship of the attendant. "Alright, well that sells me," she said before climbing up on the cart with Hermes.

Ephram pointed at the attendant, looking at Freddie. "See? There's some specialness on the ride! Come on, there'll be blankets provided, I'm sure. It's a ride, not a trip to market to try and sell Pa's turnip crop." He thanked the attendant and shoved Freddie towards the cart. "You two've met, right? Maya this is Freddie, Freddie this is Maya. Just in case." Ephram grinned and settled down into the hay as well.

Freddie smiled, extending a hand to Maya, even as he laughed and playfully nudged Ephram back. "Maya," he said, "-hello, love. I'm sorry I didn't say hello sooner; it was just that your name had escaped me and I was hoping it would come back to me. How are you?"

Maya shook Freddie's hand, not entirely believing him. In her opinion, it seemed like a pretty flimsy excuse. But she wasn't about to make any indication she thought so. Instead she shrugged, "Can't complain. And you? Other than the not being overly excited about hayrides." She draped a blanket over herself and Hermes, making them comfortable as the cart started off.

Ephram tended to blanket tucking-in for Freddie and himself before taking his hot chocolate back. "This hayride's gonna change your mind on em, jes you wait and see!" he declared, despite having no evidence to back him up just yet.

"I'm wonderful," Freddie said with a warm grin. "I mean, I'd be more excited about the hayride if the making out like teenagers bit was still on the table," he teased, tickling Ephram a little as he settled into the hay beside him, "-but I'm up for anything, me. And it's a lovely night, so as long as I'm kept warm, " he paused, poking at Ephram, " - that bit's on you, sunshine - I think it might be fun."

Ephram moved closer to Freddie, wrapping an arm around his husband's shoulders. "One six-foot-two hot water bottle comin' up," he said, kissing Freddie's cheek.

Freddie grinned, leaning into the kiss. "Well, there," he said, "-now I'm already having fun."

Maya scratched behind Hermes' ears. She glanced behind them, having thought she heard rustle in the woods. But Hermes was calm and she didn't see anything. She brought her attention back. "At the very least, we should be able to see the stars out here," she said, casting her gaze upwards. The light pollution wasn't nearly as bad as New York, but even just the festival had drowned out some of them.

Ephram leaned back somewhat so he could properly stare up at the night sky. "Did you know that Soapberry has impermanent constellations?" he said. "Yeah! They show up like once every three months or somethang, a couple at a time." He lifted one arm to point, fingers describing a crescent shape. "The one right now looks like a wedge of orange. At least it does to me."

Freddie shot a little burst of fairy dust up into the sky over their heads, giving the impression of animating the constellation - the wedge of orange joining another collection of fruit to form a Carmen Miranda headdress for Cassiopeia. "Is this cheating?" he asked, "Or are we allowed to participate in the stargazing?"

A smile crept over Maya's face. She'd always like stargazing. A long time ago she used to do it with her parents from the top of Salem's lighthouse. The far away pinpricks of light reminded her that, in the grand scheme, she was small. "I think you can only cheat if there's competition involved," she replied.

Ephram crowed over Maya's comment. "I like that!" he declared. "That's a good definition. I wish I had an orange now, though. Good game, good game," Ephram said, slapping imaginary hands like it was the precursor to being handed post-match orange wedges by his little league coach.

Freddie leaned a little closer into the warmth of Ephram's body. "So what else has everyone been up today?" he asked, "Ollie and I have done rather a lot of wandering, but we haven't committed to too many activities yet."

Maya kept watching the sky pass. Partially because she enjoyed it and partially to avoid the third wheel feeling she was 95% sure she'd have if she focused inside the cart. She shrugged, "Some painting at the bakery, nothing terribly exciting." But thinking again that she heard something, she glanced behind herself into the dark woods. There was nothing. She must be hearing things. She wrapped her blanket a little tighter around herself before turning Ephram, waiting for his answer.

Ephram asked, "The bakery?" before scratching his chin in thought about what he wanted to report. "I wanted to get my face painted, but there was like an entire school fulla kids in front of me at the stall," he bemoaned his luck. "So I just did some bobbing for candy apples. I think they was candy apples. I wasn't allowed to keep the one I got!"

"Two questions, sweetheart," Freddie said with a smile, "First, what would you have had painted if you could, and second, why couldn't you keep your apple?" He turned to Maya then. "What bakery is that, love? Anything we'd know?"

"HEAD'S UP --" Iann yelled suddenly from above the slowly trundling hayride. He was half-clinging to a speeding broomstick, that was giving off sparks from the sweeping end. Iann and the broom crashed right into the hay, the cart tipping and rocking from the impact, hay tumbling everywhere. Not just that, but the sparks from the broom also caught on the dry hay, which easily and gleefully lit up as the magical cart slowed to a halt, sensing its demise. Iann went tumbling ass over tea kettle through the field, still trying to control the spasming broom.

Ephram yelped, "Jesus Christ!!" and immediately shoved Freddie, Maya, and her dog out of the stopped cart, grabbing a blanket to slap at the flames.

"Oh, sorry, I'm opening a bakery with Tuah," Maya explained. Having worked on it for months, it seemed like common knowledge to her. But of course she'd really only talked about it with friends. She was about to explain that she was working on a mural when her attention was grabbed by someone shouting. As Iann made impact, Maya barely managed to leap off before it tipped over. Hermes too jumped off. "Shit," she swore under her breath as the cart caught fire.

Iann threw himself on the wild broomstick, trying to stop it as he yelled to the other three. "It's - like - a - bucking - bronto - " No wait, that wasn't right. "Bronco! Broncoooo-oo-o- whoa whoaaaa broom whoa!!" Somehow, the broom didn't seem to obey Iann's instructions.

Freddie once he'd gotten his bearings again, sent a stream of fairy dust to surround the broomstick, glamouring it into a toothpick. "There we are," he said, smirking at his friend, "Try not to get a splinter, darling."

Ephram finished slapping out the flames with the help of a burst of silver-green magic that ate up all the oxygen around the flames, forcing them to snuff out with a resounding bang that rang in their ears for a few moments. "Dammit, Cardero!" he bawled at Iann. "Where the hell did you even get that thing?"

Maya watched as the broom tried to buck Iann off before Freddie turned it into a toothpick. "Jesus Iann, you okay?" she asked. She realized belatedly that she'd spilled her drink on herself while jumping off the cart. Luckily, there was going to be a bonfire later. She looked for Hermes, who came trotting up to her from the other side of the cart.

Iann was still laying on top of the broom when Freddie glamoured it, and so Iann could still feel the tiny thing magically bucking under him which ended up just sort of giving the impression that he was...well, humping a random rotten field potato. He shot Freddie a glare. Damn cheeky fairies. "Oh much better now, Didi!!" Rolling onto his back, Iann finally just gave up, and released the toothpick, which went zooming up into the night sky. "Okay see you bye." He looked over at Ephram, and the fiery mess he'd caused, and grinned. "There's a place giving broomstick rides for kids. I just sorta....amped up the juice on mine. Just a bit."

Ephram leaned over and slapped at Iann's hair with the singed blanket. "Goddamnit. You wrecked up the hayride cart! They're gonna take it outta your ass, these Carnival folks don't joke around with destroyin' their property."

Maya had to laugh. Of course, Iann had amped up a child's broomstick. She turned her attention though to the cart. It was indeed ruined. At least it was just hay, she supposed. Well, hay and wood.

"And how exactly did you manage that?" Freddie asked, caught somewhere between exasperation and fondness. "Do I even want to know?"

"I got this charm..." Iann started explaining to Freddie, giving Maya a nod to say he was okay. At least he thought he was. He reached up to catch the blanket that Ephram whapped him with, but then gulped hard, turning sweaty and pale immediately. "Oh. Shit. I think I dislocated my shoulder...fuck, shit, god-fucking-fuckity-dammit it, ow ow ow..." Iann rolled forward, gingerly holding his arm. "Okay, who's the lucky duck who gets to pull it right again?"

Ephram grunted, kneeling down next to Iann and reaching for his shoulder before pausing and looking up at Freddie. "Actually," he said, "probly Freddie should do it. Iffen you want your shoulder popped back in painless, that is."

"I got you," Maya said, "Give it here." She had put more than a few shoulders right in her day and now that she knew about her literally magic touch she could help with some of the pain too. She knelt and took hold of his arm. "Ready? On three. One...two," she popped it into place

Freddie would never stop wondering why so many witches eschew fairy healing for their own less-capable varieties, but to each their own. At least Iann's shoulder was fixed again.

Ephram sat back on the grass, secretly sort of pleased with this outcome. Iann deserved a little bit of discomfort for shenanigans. "Oh, shoot," he said as brightly-glowing green vests began to make their way out into the field. "Here come the volunteers. And it's a hayride, Cardero -- you best hope they don't got pitchforks."

Iann groaned and landed face down on the field when Maya popped his shoulder. "Ohhhhhhh god that feels good and awful at the same time," he said, voice full of dirt. He looked up when Ephram mentioned the green-vests, and gave a weak one-shouldered shrug, reaching out to be helped up. "You're the Sheriff - surely I'm in company that keeps the pitchfork crowd at bay, am I right?" Iann looked around, then looked at Freddie, stricken. "Where's Ollie?" His gaze slid towards the burned hay and side-turned cart.

Ephram grunted again, somewhat mollified that at least Iann showed concern for the possibility of Ollie having been hurt. "I reckon I might could tell em it was an accident," he started to say, before suddenly leaping up to his feet in shock, shouting, "My hot chocolate!!" and loping back to the burnt cart to locate his unending hot chocolate pouring out into a sticky puddle under a charred heap of hay.

Freddie followed Iann's gaze - and his train of thought - over to the decimated hay cart, and pulled a mock affronted and horrified face. "Excuse you," he said, "-but he's not bloody trapped in there! I'd have expired by now, if he had. He's having an apple cider with a mate of his. I'm to meet him later at the pumpkin contest."

"Doesn't it always?" Maya agreed. Having never experienced it, she didn't think about fairy healing. Just that Iann needed someone to pop his shoulder back in and she seemed like the best person at the time. "I've got like couple of ibuprofen worth of magic, but Ephram's right," she added. Her attention turned towards the approaching volunteers. Considering they were with the sheriff, it didn't worry her. "You do owe me a hot toddy though," she said as Ephram scooped up his hot chocolate, "I didn't spring for the self-fill upgrade."

Iann was ready to go diving into the hay to save Ollie, but was immediately distracted by the idea of Ollie having his own friends. Which Freddie had informed him of before; but honestly, every time it came up, it delighted Iann as if it was the first time hearing it. "What contest?" He looked over at the helpful volunteers, and pointed an accusing finger. "It exploded on its own! You guys should really make sure these things aren't hazardous, safety first. Think of the children - god, won't someone please think of the children." Iann tutted at the green-vests, before haughtily nodded at Maya and then Freddie. "I agree Freddie, we absolutely will not be directing our guests to the hay ride tomorrow night. Let's go now that our inspection's over."

"I put your shoulder back into your socket, I can take it out," Maya jokingly threatened as Iann referred to her as a child.

"The talent show," Freddie said before Iann was off on a tangent, distracting the poor volunteers from his own misadventures - and dragging Freddie right along into his mess. The fairy turned to the green-vests apologetically. "He gets a bit disoriented at night," he told them, "They call it sundowning. So don't mind him, yeah? We'll be recommending the entire carnival to our guests."

Ephram handed off his seared pink travel mug to Freddie, making imploring eyes-- "can you fix it, honey, please?" before nodding along with Freddie's swiftly-performed damage control, straightening and holding his arms out to herd the green-vests away from the little group. "It's fine, no harm done," Ephram said briskly. "Might wanna look into who gets their hands on those broomstick rides, though, huh?"

Iann looked innocent, if soil-stained, as Freddie and Ephram both did damage control with the politely confused (but quite used to seeing disasters and putting out fires - both literally and figuratively. Oh, the life of a volunteer) volunteers, who went to attend to the toppled hay cart. "I just realized that thing isn't actually drawn by anything," Iann murmured, noticing there was no horses attached, or tractor. He looked at Maya. "Who owes you a drink? I do, or Pettaline? Pettaline, right?" He nodded about the talent show, and then he had to ask, "Is Ollie in the talent show?"

Freddie took Ephram's mug and gave it a quick once-over - the replenishing magic was fae, so he didn't see any harm in applying a little dust of his own and glamouring it back to the way it had been before Iann Knieval had crash landed. "Here, love," he said, watching as it refilled itself, "Good as new."

"No," Freddie said, "-it's for pumpkins. People have made those horrifying pumpkinhead creatures from Return to Oz, and the talent show is for them. Ol and I are just going to watch."

Iann huffed on Freddie's behalf. "Just watch? They should've asked you and Ollie to be judges. You're esteemed members of Soapberry society and all that!"

Maya let them handle the green vests. It was usually better to let other people talk to authority. "Ephram didn't make me jump off my cart and spill three quarters of a hot toddy, soooooooo."

Ephram took his mug back with a pleased buzz, only to have it turn into a whine of protest. "I loved that pumpkinhead guy from Return to Oz!" he protested. "Him and the moose were the best. And no, Cardero, I don't owe nobody nothin' except maybe you a cuff in the head." He nodded enthusiastically at Maya's correction of Iann's willful misconception. "See?"

"Apparently we made the shortlist," Freddie said, shooting Iann a smirk, "-but Nutkin's a judge and he got us blackballed."

"Listen, I already got whapped by you in the head with a flea-infested horse blanket," Iann said as he started to distance himself from the burning ruined hayride. He glanced at Maya. "And okay then, hot toddy it is. If only to...make you stop saying 'hot toddy'. Sounds like we're in a ski lodge or something." Iann halted though as Freddie broke the news, staring in utter shock. "That fucking Bugle editor?! Oh Freddie...Freddie, that's my fault," Iann said it in a generous, magnanimous way, as if everyone didn't already know who's fault it was that Nutkin had its vendetta. "I should write a apology to that little peanut-brain..." A scathing, ranting, apology full of vitriol.

Freddie laughed, slipping his hand into Ephram's. "Oh, I think you've done enough, darling. Don't you?"

Maya laughed, "You know I have to keep saying it now, right?" She had no intention of following through or of really holding him to buy a drink. But it was kind of funny. She didn't know anything about this Nutkin, but evidentaly no one was a fan. "Sounds like you'd rather write him a strongly worded letter," she commented, "I know some strong words if you need them."

Ephram took his husband's hand, squeezing it and tugging Freddie in closer, not having forgotten his mandate to share the heat he tended to radiate in all seasons. "You watch yourself, Cardero," Ephram said, just a teensy bit nastily since he knew where he was heading with this comment: "Maya here's startin' a bakery with Tuah, so if you don't play nice with her you'll find another place you're blackballed from."

"I've written that little bugger plenty..." Which was precisely why Stonefruit Inn was in the semi-predicament it was in already. He cast Freddie another apologetic glance, pushing his hands into his pockets as they strolled out of the field, back towards where the food stalls were. "Ohhhh ah ahaha, yeah if I get blackballed from their bakery, it wouldn't be by Maya's doing. I haven't been performing very well on the ex front," Iann said with a wistful grin, and another half-shrug, not particularly minding Ephram's little jibe. It was genuine and inadvertently accurate, and for Iann that was what mattered. "But who knows. Maybe we'll be back on good terms by the time the place opens though, hm?"

Maya laughed again, "Yeah you probably got plenty on that one." Even with Tuah as her business partner and all her friends support her, she still felt nervous about the whole thing. "But, I think Tuah's too nice to ban anyone and I'm too interested in getting rich to not take anyone's money," she added. The first part was true and the second clearly a joke.

Ephram returned Iann's half-shrug, his spurt of meanness nullified by Iann's good-natured acceptance. Ephram couldn't stay poking at somebody -- even Iann -- in the face of such openness. "After the painting's done, I reckon?" he speculated, looking at Maya to say yay or nay on when the place was opening. He drank from his mug and remarked, "--that Nutkin feller's mighty hard to shut up. Although at least lately he's stopped referring to me as Typhoid Billy."

Iann grunted noncommittally about Tuah, pulling out his wallet when they got to the stall featuring all manner of cheery fall-related beverages. Some cold, some hot, all special in some way of course. "Well you're a married man now, it would be gauche or something, I guess," Iann said, squinting at the menu board. "Okay a hot toddy for you, and - what'd you have Pettaline? Hot chocolate? Spiked or not?"

Maya smiled and nodded, "Yes please."

"Oh, no, I'm fine -- mine's self-refilling." Ephram nursed it thoughtfully. "I reckon if Nutkin's stopped jabbin' at me it's got somethang to do with me bein' Sheriff now, not whether or not I'm married. The Bugle don't seem overly concerned with gauche."

Iann got himself a coffee - just normal, no funny business, Iann instructed the server - and handed Maya her hot toddy. "So what you're saying is..." Iann said, just as thoughtfully. "Is that if someone finds some reason for our esteemed Editor to be liable for...oh I don't know. Slander or libel or - oh! - harassment, then the Sheriff's Department can intervene on the injured citizen's behalf?" Because if there was anything better than skirting around the law, it was exploiting the law.

Maya took her new drink, still smiling, "Thank you." She took a sip, feeling immediately warmed by it. "Don't you have to like lawyer up for that?" she asked although she didn't really know. Plus things worked differently here in Soapberry anyway.

Ephram hemmed and hawwed a little bit before answering. "Well, yeah," he said, "but you'll have a hard time proving true ill intent. I mean it ain't harmed the Stonefruit any, the feud you'ns got going, and the Bugle's got free speech on their side. Even in Soapberry, some things still stand."

Iann blustered an imitation of Ephram, Kentucky accent and all, as he danced his arms op and down, frowning sternly, "Oh even - even in Soapberry, oh, hm, some things still stay-yand."  Really, he just sounded like Jeff Goldblum with a bad Kentucky accent.

Maya took a sip of her drink and chose to stay out of this one.

Ephram sipped his drink too, placidly; Freddie, after giving Iann a bit of a stern look, said, “And on that note, loves, I’d best see what Ollie’s up to. If I’m late and he misses the pumpkin judging I’m in for a bollocksing.” The fairy gave Ephram a kiss, lingering a little, before saying his goodbyes to Maya and Iann and setting off.

Ephram cleared his throat and turned to Maya. "So you're obviously handlin' the baking part," he said, "are you'ns gonna be havin' coffee and all that too?"

Maya nodded, "Yep, the whole works. We talked about maybe getting a liquor license too. Nothing better than late night cake and champagne." She couldn't help the almost secret smile that curved her lips as she thought of the last time she'd had cake and champagne.

Iann looked dismayed, giving a short wave of goodbye as he went after Freddie. "Freddie! C'mon man..." he pleaded, disappearing from the sight of Epham and Maya.

"Cain't argue with that," Ephram said, watching Iann bolt off after Freddie. "Well, that must be pretty exciting for you both! A new venture like that, especially with somebody. Not much fun starting new enterprises on your own."

"Well that I've got about seven dollars to my name, so it'd be a bit difficult," Maya replied. She was excited, but most days she was more nervous. And with everything that had been happening lately, she wasn't entirely sure she'd make it to opening day. But she just smiled and took a sip of her drink,

Ephram made a noncommittal sound, not really sure if Maya meant that as a joke or something more serious. "Thought of a name for the place?"

Maya shook her head, "We're still working on it." She took another sip of her drink. "How're things at the station?"

"Good, good. Just signed on a new Deputy, a Joey Voeman, you know him?" Ephram found it best to assume that people hadn't met, rather than the other way around.

Maya nodded, "Yeah, we've met. He seems like a good guy."

"Very good." Ephram opened his mouth to continue, but his phone buzzed, and he checked it, clucking his tongue. "Speaking of which," he said, "I'm gettin' called back to the station for a situation. It was good to see you, though! Send the Department a flyer or somethang when you open the bakery cafe. We're always on the lookout for new places to buy baked stuff from."

"Will do," Maya replied with a wave.

[etckhh-blog]

Free Drinks - Wonhui - Drabble - bartender!jun/writer!wonwoo

"I know I shouldn't be here," Wonwoo says into his drink. His nose wrinkles.

"You know you don't want to go," Junhui replied. He finished drying a glass and set it on the counter. He was painfully correct as always.

Wonwoo downs the rest of his whiskey and makes a face. Jun wordlessly refilled the glass.

Wonwoo didn't know why he showed up at his ex's birthday party. Maybe to watch her dance in the tight sequin dress she purchased for the event. Maybe for the free drinks. Maybe he just liked to rip into healing wounds like a masochist. He was a bit of a masochist. There was no denying that much. Jun leaned his elbow on the counter and rested his hand on his palm.

"You're still in love with her," the bar keep points out.

"I'm in love with the idea of her. Having someone to go home to. To hold. To fuck. That kinda shit," the latter retorted. He drank a little bit more.

Jun gave an unsympathetic smile.

"Women are a dime a dozen," he said with a soft scoff. Wonwoo bristled a bit. He pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled something down on a napkin before tucking it away.

Typical writer.

"I would chastise you for that but I've heard quite a few lesbians make the same remark about men," he said, clicking the pen and tucking it away.

"Hey, being gay is hard. Grass is always greener for the heteros. At least you can hit on girls anywhere - hit on the wrong guy in the queue at the store and your teeth can get knocked out. Not that these girls won't knock your teeth out too - they just have the social tact not too," Jun drawled on, mostly to himself. Wonwoo snorted in amusement and polished off his glass.

"You're an enigma," he muttered. The glint in Jun's eye said he was quite proud of that fact.

"I'm no philosopher," Jun shrugged.

"Ever the poetic - well then Mr. Not Philosopher," Wonwoo said with mock formality, sitting up. His eyes drift across Junhui's form for a moment. "Why am I still at this shit bar?" He asked.

Jun smirked.

"Free drinks," he responded, pouring another glass for Wonwoo.

It's three days later before Wonwoo's sitting in the same worn wooden bar stool. This time there isn't a woman on his mind. Rather, his brain was thick with fog as he polished off his beer. The strange indie music filtered in his brain and the drab cigarette smoke made him debate lighting one up for himself. Jihoon was pressed to his side, tiny body far more water logged with the effects of alcohol. He had agreed to go to the bar with his friend to help him through a particularly painful break up. With alcohol. Jihoon was mumbling endlessly about the one that got away.

"His fuckin - his fuckin dad said it would tarnish the company to have a gay son? He can't ungay his fuckin son. Seungcheol's head ass... god why did he have to let it get to him? Stupid... stupid idiot said he... he needed to start taking his role in his family seriously. Was what we had not serious enough?" Jihoon said, as if accusing his empty glass with an empty glare. Wonwoo gently pat his head.

"He said he loved me... he loved me... he has a new girlfriend. His dad's friend's fucking daughter? She's blonde... does he like blondes better? Am I not enough? Does he fuck her? Does he call her baby n' fuck her in his nice car too?" Jihoon droned on. Wonwoo frowned.

"You're drunk," he cut off, looking over at his short companion.

"I'm hurt," Jihoon responded.

Junhui came over just then with two glasses of water. He looked at the odd pair with some emotion resting behind his eyes. Wonwoo couldn't decipher it. He takes the water thankfully.

"Break up," the writer explained. Jun nodded, expression dispelling into sympathy.

"I miss him already... I want a fuckin... a fuckin text or somethin," Jihoon said with his eyes watering.

Wonwoo gave Jun a look.

"Is it really better to date dudes?" He asked.

Jihoon slid his card across the table to pay and Jun rolled the thought around his head as he picked up the piece of plastic.

"Better to have loved and lost to have never loved at all," he said, tone a little to wise and leaving a sour taste on Wonwoo's tongue.

"Poetic as always. Then do tell me, why am I even here?" He asked. Jun wrinkled his nose and smirked with dry amusement.

"Free drinks,"

The bar is nearly empty on the Wednesday night Wonwoo walked in. He brushed the rain from his leather jacket and shook it from his hair. He sat on the stool by the counter and Jun walked over.

"Hey, how's it... going?" He greeted, pausing when he saw the grin on Wonwoo's face. It was uncharacteristic for him to be so outwardly joyful. He was typically so stoic and tired Jun didn't expect anything else.

"I have good news," he announced.

"Oh?"

"My manuscript is being published,"

"Oh!"

Jun's face melted into a bright smile. He had known Wonwoo since the latter had moved to the area. A troubled writer looking for muse. He'd looked up the latter's books on a whim and ended up reading every single one, devouring every word like his life depended on it.

Wonwoo melded worlds and characters in such an expert way - stories filled with fantasy and realism. Each one unique and soft. Every story ending with gut wrenching pain and he loved it.

He loved Wonwoo.

"Cause for a celebration huh?" Wonwoo stated cheekily.

"I suppose so," Jun said, playfully pondering with a hand on his hip and a finger on his bottom lip

"How you gonna treat me tonight then, Junnie-ah," the latter responded, equally playful.

Jun turned and grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, setting it in front of Wonwoo and adding whiskey.

"Free drinks,"

Jun looked up when the bell rang above the door. He was just putting away the last glass and was ready to close down for the night.

"We're closing!" He called out, peeking over the counter.

"I know, I came here for something else," a familiar voice responded.

Wonwoo stood in front of Jun, hands tight behind his back and looking far more tense than Jun was used to.

His bottom lip was red from how much he's been gnawing on them and his expression was pensive. He sighed. And looked up from the floor at Jun.

"Ok, I know that it's like your job to just listen to people's problems as they get drunk and it's a terrible faux pas to hit on a bar tender but I've been thinking about you for months and - and I figured I'd rather shoot my shot than drink my feelings. Because. I like you - in a romantic sense. And I want to. To take you on a date. Sometime," Wonwoo declared, each word deliberate and carefully crafted.

Jun grinned.

"I thought you weren't into men," he tested, wearily eyeing Wonwoo. This could be some weird joke and he knew better than to fuck around with straight boys.

Wonwoo's shoulders relaxed a bit.

"Your charisma and looks surpass gender and attraction, Junnie," the writer states. His cheeks go pink.

"Ah, and why should I allow you the honor of taking me on a date?" He asked, taking a few steps forward to bridge the distance between them. He rests his hands on Wonwoo's biceps.

"Free drinks,"

[nana-of-light]

First 3 Dungeons Completed

So, my grandma finally got her controller set up, along with my game settings files, (which she very much likes) but I screwed up a tiny bit and later realized I put her game audio in Japanese. LOL Damnit. It’s okay though. It’s an easy fix I can help her change. She didn’t complain about it, but i had to ask her. She moves much faster, and when she follows me, she’s always right behind me. I don’t have to pause after i turn corners to make sure i don’t run too far ahead and have her lose me. And she dodges in battle now!! Aaahhh! She says the controller is much easier on her though, which i’m very glad for. She was saying something about the touchpad on her laptop bothering her finger after awhile. I can imagine how uncomfortable playing like  that is.. She is using the chat function more too now that she doesn’t move with the keyboard.

The last time I did MSQ with her, we left off in Gridania, and she just never left. She’s told me she loves it several times already. With a few side quests she’s picked up, she ended up in Lavender Beds, looking around houses, and got lost. During the night when I couldn’t sleep, I peeked on her account to see where her MSQ was, and found her logged in front of someone’s carbuncle house. I didn’t want to touch anything and got off. When she picked it back up, I helped her get out of there and back to where we needed to be for the MSQ. She seems to wait for me to do those with her. When we met up finally, I was no longer my usual female raen au ra, but instead a male seeker miqote. I stood there and told her i got a haircut... she didn’t react though, so we moved on.

Fast forward a bit to us standing in front of Sastasha. I explained that this was a dungeon and we’d be getting a random player with us. As i’m typing, she’s running around the area, trying to find where to click on to progress next. When she started to run away, I typed faster, asking if she wanted me to go over a few things to make things smoother basically. With a yes, I went over briefly what the tank’s job was, which was to lead the party through the dungeon and keep the enemy’s focus off everyone, along with the mention that dps and healers shouldn’t run ahead of them, and that she and my boyfriend were to kill everything. And that was all! I didn’t bother with mechanics at all, so she could just experience them.

In Sastasha, we learned that she really liked Sleep.. Lol. I eventually told her that it didn’t do any damage and it was something that was rarely needed. During this run, we were seeing that transpose was still an issue because when MP was low, she’d stand and wait for it to refill, but she’s playing around with her spells and seeing how they work. The healer spent their time jumping around and running ahead to pull more things, so while I trying to see what she was doing and helping as i tanked, i had that to try to deal with that.. I felt like I couldn’t really say much though. x__x; When the coeurl boss came up, i’m not sure what happened, but she got locked out and tried to run around to figure out how to get through. D: After that, she made sure to be in front of the line to not get locked out again. For loot, she figured out how to roll on her own because I saw that she won something. And on the last boss, she just focused on that, so we ended up burning it. 

Overall, there was a lot of sleep use at the start, blizzard II seems to be her favorite way to deal with mobs, probably due to her mp trouble, and at one point, while she did stay behind me, she used her range to pull another mob before we were done with the current. I went over the last bit, explaining why this was bad, but also that it was my fault for not telling her about it. When I reminded her that fire was the better source of damage, she asked me what it turned into. So we went over transpose again, and then I introduced Fire II and mob fighting with her. She also commented about how many levels she got in that run, surprised.

So, onward to Tam tara! The healer wanted to run ahead and pull more and then stand there, watching us deal with it. Lol Ahh! Why does this keep happening! I saw Nana using Fire more, and when there were was a mob, she’d use fire II. *tears of joy* There was a few things of Sleep as well, but i think these were accidents. I didn’t really see Transpose, but she’d swap to Blizzard II to refil then resume her fire use. At the very least, I think she’s understanding that blizzard spells give mp. On the last boss, when it used that large aoe, I saw her run out of it and i yelled out loud, “HOLY SHIT, SHE DODGED! OMG SHE DID IT!!”. Before the controller, this was something I didn’t see her do, so I was ecstatic! 

Seeing the improvement in this run was a real treat, but once we stood outside Copperbell, the queue wasn’t popping, so we stood around. While we waited, I gave her a baby chocobo minion since she had previously asked me about the “things” that follow me around. After some time, I cancelled the queue and tried to see if I could grab someone more ..patient. xD; I tried a few people (some of you name dropped for me in various forms of private messages, but weren’t on at the time unfortunately) and I eventually asked my Balmung FC if anyone was free for some lowbie dungeon healing. I explained what Party Finder was to Nana and then pulled our FCmate in. I introduced them, we talked for a little bit about stuff, and then went in.

The run went pretty smoothly, and there was actual conversation during battles, which was pleasant. Our FCmate would ask how she was doing with loot rolls and things, which was pretty nice too. For the boss fight with the spriggans, I gave the heads up that a lot would be spawning, and we dove into that. However, halfway through, my eyes started to burn really bad, and while I tried to deal with that squinty and teary eyed, i couldn’t take it anymore and apologized, jumping out of my chair to go deal with it. In my stead, the boyfriend guy tanked and they killed the things, and then they went over using Limit Break with Nana. Since the FCmate used a PS4 controller too, she went over how to assign things to her crossbar. This was something that I was grateful for because I completely forgot about this. Nana was confused with it all though, but she told us she took a picture of the instructions to try it later. I think she didn’t want us to wait for her. 

After my eyes no longer felt like they were on fire, we continued on, but as we were grabbing up loot, I turned to my grandma and I finally asked, “Nana, did you notice I was a cat boy?” There was a pause and she replies, “no”. The FCmate chines in with “I noticed right away >.>”. The boyfriend laughs in the background. I chuckle with my deep mancat voice and continue on.

So, the slime boss.. Nana wanted it dead, so I just let her blow it up while the FCmate did the bomb thing for us. I said we needed the bomb to explode on the slime and not to kill it. With her focused on the slime, we watched the bomb come over and explode. *Insert me yelling at my screen as she dodges them*

On the last boss, we let her know she could ignore the koolaid men coming out of the walls. Aaand dungeon completed! Hooray!

I just want to apologize for the lack of screenshots. i know it never was something promised, but I always try to tell myself i need to get more for you guys, and I keep forgetting! By the time I remembered, I scrambled to get that unflattering one. Lmao .. I’ll try harder to get more.

Anyway! After that was all said and done, it was late and Nana wanted to get ready for bed. Our FCmate and her said their goodbyes and we split off. I think Nana afk’d or tabbed at this point because she stopped moving/responding, so I said I was logging, but would pm her on facebook.

Note: she uses speech to text on this when on her phone.

Me:  I wanted to ask.. did you like the dungeons? i was wondering if they were too hectic.

N:  Yes I'll get the the magic down better I took a picture of everything we wrote and your friend told me how to do that I didn't get it but I took a picture so I can do it tomorrow and level 27 now that's a good thing those dungeons do I had no idea where we went how we went there and where I'm at right now I'm just going to shut it down because right below it I have an old thing to do something to get that done N:  No punctuation marks you're going to have to figure it out

Me:  i am reading slowly, but i think i got it.

Me:  i didn't know how to do limit breaks for awhile, so i think it's normal.

N:  Yeah and you can't go back and correct it either

N:  I don't even know what limit breaks means

Me:  remember in the final fantasy games how there would be a gauge that would fill over time and it was a big attack you could use every now and then?

N:  Oh yeah

Me:  that's what it is, but a different name.  it's shared by the party.

N: *thumbs up emote*

N:  Okay I'm going to finish up here and go to bed your mom and I are going to run errands tomorrow

N:  That little duck looking thing is in my minion thing is that where it's supposed to go and what happens now

Me:  click on it in the minion guide.

N:  Okay

Me:  it's a chocobo. lol!

N: Lol nn

Me:  okay, good night !

N: *sticker of two sprawled out dogs, sleeping with Z’s*

So, that’s that! A little progress here and there. Good stuff. \o/ Phew!

Also.. Added bonus. Here’s an older screenshot while we were still stuck in the desert. This guy has no shame. I kinda want to draw this out..

[fallingthunder]

Too Far From the Road - Chapter Two

The kitchen was almost empty when I finally limped into it, with only a few stragglers left milling around. The kitchen, unsurprisingly perhaps, given that the dwarvish appetite was a large one, was built in palatial proportion. High ceilings, large, square floor space with all the furnishings anyone could think of, and plenty of room for the army of people working in it to move about unhindered. At any given time, day or night, there was food laid out on a large central table. The prosperity of the mountain meant that food was never in short supply, even if the best was saved for those above stairs.

I put my bucket, mop, and brush away in the storage chamber at the rear of the kitchen and went to the central table to collect the food I would take back to my chamber with me. I moved quietly, hoping not to draw attention, and checked every so often that Vald was not watching me from some out of the way place.

When I had arrived in Erebor and managed to engage in employment in the Mountain, I had thought that it would be the King under the Mountain who would be the most intimidating person I had ever met. It turned out, however, that Vald was the one to take that title. A female well past middle life, she cut a formidable figure; once held to be a notable beauty, her looks had faded, but nobody could deny the magnificence of her iron-grey beard, plaited in intricate style. Just looking at it made me want to scratch my, essentially hairless, face.

When I had first met her I had assumed that she was just the head of service in the kitchens and dining room, but as time went on I realised that she controlled everything domestically in the Mountain. If Vald didn’t like you, nobody liked you. It made my position here precarious.

Glad I had managed to avoid her, or anyone else that might ask questions, I staggered back to my room, missing my brush as support. On my hard bed, I lay down, still in all my dirt, and fell asleep.

Another week passed in interminable monotony. Nothing changed. I was tired, constantly dirty and wishing the Mountain away. Added on top of it all, the small part of me that wanted closeness to the Prince was shamed into embarrassment by the part of me that knew how terrible I looked.

Once evening, my day’s work finally finished, I opened the door to my little chamber to find that the door bumped into something as it swung open. I immediately felt defensive, wondering if something untoward had crept into my room. I didn’t lock it as I had no valuable possessions, but it didn’t mean that something couldn’t be waiting for me. I held the candlestick tightly in one hand and stepped into the room, searching it with one quick glance. The room itself was tiny. My bed took up most of it, with a foot of space between the edge of the bed and the wall on one side. All of my clothes were kept under the bed. It meant checking for an intruder was easy and I felt relieved that there was nobody there. I took another step and my boot bumped into something on the floor. I looked down to find a basket on the floor.

Frowning I glanced outside the door, shut it and picked up the basket. Stuffed into it was smoked ham, bread, half a pie, tomatoes, apples and half a pint of cider. I removed everything and lay them on the bed carefully. Finally, at the bottom, I found a note. I unfolded it and brought the candle closer to read.

 I hope I am not overstepping the mark.

 T

I blinked down at it, reading it several times before I could really get my head around it. “T” stood for Thorin, for that I was sure. No one but he had made the effort to start a conversation with me, I wasn’t sure how he’d managed to find out where I slept, but I supposed that it was within his power to do so. The Prince has sent me a food basket, what did that mean? I hadn’t heard that it was something he did, he himself said he didn’t start conversations with the servants. I was thin for a dwarf and I had to admit that travelling had meant that I hadn’t always had the best food. I rarely had been able to get food as nice as this. He must have guessed.

I put all the food back in the basket except one apple, which I bit into, and shoved the basket under my bed. It didn’t take much thinking to decide that I had to take this to my parents and share it. They couldn’t afford much food and this would help my mother regain some strength. I had a day off in two days; I could take what I could to them then.  Feeling happy at the prospect of seeing my parents and being able to bring them something when I came, I finished my apple and settled down to sleep.

 I woke early the morning of my day off. I wanted to leave before the rest of the staff started work. I had removed the contents of the basket and stowed it safely in my satchel, which I was hoping to refill with the various medicines and healing paraphernalia I had collected over the years. I was in desperate need of cream for the cracking skin on my hands.

I left the mountain through the main entry. The guard at the gate questioned where I was going but let me continue when I told him I was leaving to visit my family and would be back before nightfall. I stepped out in to the light for the first time in weeks, I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. My eyes were going to take a while to get used to the sunlight, so I walked slowly and cautiously onwards. My mother and father had found a small house to the West of the Mountain, several miles away from the foot of it and a reasonable distance from any other dwellings. My family liked to keep ourselves to ourselves, but this distance meant that my father had to ride a pony to the nearest village market, and didn’t like to do so too often as it left my mother alone at home for too long.

I was wishing I had a pony to ride before too long. The Mountain and the Running River to my back, I trudged along the stony road for as far as I could, leaving it eventually to start walking through small areas of woodland, interspersed with fields of livestock or crops. In the distance, ahead of me I could see the unwelcoming boarder of Mirkwood; dark and ominous. There was something wrong with it, I had heard; an unnatural disease was sickening the air. I had hoped that my parents would find a home nearer to the Mountain and further away from such an unsettling place, but I had no control over their final decision.

As the last vestiges of civilisation receded I became conscious that I didn’t recognise where I was and had to recognise that I ha d taken a wrong turn. I was in a large spinney, the earth around me was undulating; large banks rose steadily from the unofficial path I was following.  I could hear water, but I couldn’t see the source of the noise, I assumed there was a stream behind one of the banks. I sat down on a fallen branch and rummaged in my satchel for an apple; considering whether it would be worth finding the stream to see if the water was drinkable, when a prickle at the base of my neck let me know that there was someone or something behind me.

Mindful of how far away from help I was and how remiss I had been to not pack a single weapon with me. I braced myself to turn and face my attacker, noting a sturdy looking stick just within my reach. I twig snapped underfoot and I took that as my queue to spring into action. I jumped up, lunging forwards grasp the stick; holding it up threateningly and spinning round to finally confront what was behind me.

In the short time I had been aware of a presence behind me, I had outlined what I thought was every possible scenario in my head. I was not, however, prepared for what I saw.

‘My Lord?’ I said, dropping my stick at the sight of Prince Thorin, now standing still, looking extremely amused.

‘Just a thought, if you want to defend yourself, don’t drop your weapon upon first sighting the enemy. You can’t hit me with it when it’s on the floor.’ He said, the mocking note in his voice evident.

‘I wasn’t going to hit you!’ I exclaimed.

‘What were you going to do with such a big stick then?’ He said.

‘You know full well I meant I wasn’t going to hit you because, well, you’re you. If you were a real danger to me I wouldn’t have dropped my stick.’ I scowled.

‘You think I’m not dangerous?’ he said, raising his eyebrows and stepping towards me.

‘I’m sure you can be as dangerous as you choose to be when you need to, but no, I don’t consider you a threat to my life.’ I replied, my heartbeat finally getting back to its normal pace.

 I turned away from him and back to the bag I had left on the log.

‘I hope you consider me enough of a safeguard for you to not refuse an offer of protection?’ he said gruffly.

‘Protection? Why would I need that?’ I asked. I may be defenceless, but I didn’t need him following me to where my parents were living.

He didn’t answer my question and if I had been looking at him I would have seen his eyebrows fall into a frown. I shouldered my bag and looked up at him.

‘What are you doing out here?’ He asked finally.

‘What am I doing out here? What are you doing out here?’ I demanded. The frown faded and a bemused smirk replaced it.

‘You do realise I’m a Prince of this Kingdom, don’t you?’ he said instead of replying.

I suddenly realised how unacceptably I had spoken to him. He was my Lord, my employer. He had untold power over my life, if he hadn’t been finding my artlessness so entertaining I would have thought myself in a lot of trouble.

‘Oh…Yes, I suppose you have every right to be where you want. I’m going to visit my parents.’ I replied meekly.

‘They live out here?’

‘Somewhere out here. I confess, I took a wrong turn at some point. I’m not sure where I’m going.’ I said, gesturing at the surroundings hopelessly.

‘You are taking the fastest path to Mirkwood.’ He said. My stomach sank, perhaps I was in more danger than I had realised.

‘How fast?’ I asked.

‘You would not have reached it today, and I hope you would have had the sense to have turned back when you realised your mistake.’

‘I hope I would have too.’ I paused, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a light hauberk under his tunic, leather vambraces on his forearms and armed with not only an axe but a short sword as well. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘There have been orcs sighted on the edge of Mirkwood and our patrols have noticed increased activity south of Ered Mithrin. We are expecting a significant attack in the near future and raids are imminent. I’m glad I found you; with only a stick for protection you are at risk.’

‘If I’d have known I would have brought a suitable weapon.’ I said thoughtfully, unsure of where I would have been able to find something to protect myself with.

‘If you had known, you would have stayed inside.’ He said sternly.

‘No, I wouldn’t, not without knowing my family was safe. I have not heard that they’ve come closer to Erebor, and you didn’t know they were out here at all.’ I refuted

‘If your parents live out here they need to be moved, they are too vulnerable this far from the Mountain.’

‘I know that now, I need to find them.’

‘Where do they live? I’ll escort you.’

‘That’s unnecessary, My Lord. If you could just point me in the right direction…’

‘Hlita, your eagerness to disobey my orders is getting tiring.’ He said, irritated.

‘And you have better things to do than act as my minder.’ I retorted.

‘I’ll be the judge of…’ He trailed off, listening.

There was crashing in the undergrowth, getting louder with every passing moment. It sounded like there were many feet running as quickly as they could in our direction.

‘Were you with anyone else?’ I whispered, stepping closer to the Prince, my palms itching to grasp a weapon.

‘A small company. But this isn’t them.’ He murmured back, loosening his sword in its sheath.

‘Give me your axe.’ I hissed, as the source of the noise appeared on the scene.

Orcs, not many, but more than us, came into view. The vicious barbs on their dark, black blood stained armour as threatening as the scimitars they carried. I had been in situations like this before, but never unarmed.

‘What?’ He said, drawing his sword.

‘Your axe, let me have your axe!’ I shouted, picking up my stick instead; a last resort as he didn’t seem to have registered what I had said.

He glanced at me and, thankfully, decided I was better use as an ally than as something he needed to protect. He thrust the axe into my grasp as the first orc came into striking range. It lifted its curved scimitar high and Thorin thrust his heavy sword into its unprotected gut. It screeched in agony and died on the floor, under the feet of the orc that followed it.

Holding the axe tightly in both hands, I stepped up onto a fallen log and used my new height to slice straight through the neck of an oncoming orc with one swift blow. The axe was sharp and light, its efficiency a tribute to the craftsman who had made it. I felt more powerful with each foul beast that I felled, fighting alongside the Prince like I was born for it, all the while wishing that my life was one of a soldier and not a serving girl. My body felt charged, my mind in total harmony with it; for the first time in weeks I felt like something was right.

As the Prince’s sword hacked the arm from the last orcs body, I cleaved its head from its shoulders, the dismembered corpse falling to the ground with a sickening thud. My shoulders sagged with relief, we were both alive and unharmed. I swung the axe back and forth, looking for a clean orc to wipe the blood from the blade on.

Panting, sweating, the Prince leant back against a tree.

‘If you were a male I would offer you a post in my guard. You fight well.’ He said as I was bending down to clean the axe blade.

‘For a female?’ I said cynically, looking up to make eye contact with him.

‘No, you fight better than a lot of males.’ He said as he wiped his sword blade clean on his already orc-blood stained leg and sheathing it.

‘Then why not employ me as I am?’ I asked hopefully. He shook his head.

‘Dwarf women are precious. You are too few and we need you.’ He said, pushing away from the tree to walk towards me. I stiffened, registering for the first time that I was very alone with a powerful male.

‘You mean to need us to have your children?’ I said, knowing full well that the statement was true and finding it not entirely unappealing when staring back at this handsome man.

‘I know you’re not stupid, so I have to wonder why you must look for an argument whenever we meet.’ He said, stopping a foot away from me. I could reach out to him if I wanted to. I did want to. Sweating and covered in dirt, with windswept hair and a small cut on his face, I found him even more alluring than when he was dressed in his finery.

‘I don’t know what you mean by that.’ I said stubbornly, folding my arms while still carefully holding his axe in one hand.

‘No? You are aware all dwarf women are taught to fight, we do not think you are incapable, even though we don’t choose to put you on the front line.’ He said reasonably, echoing my stance and folding his arms.

‘That should be our choice.’ I contended.

‘And if you all chose to become soldiers and dwarf women slowly died out? What of our race? Dwarf men already outnumber women ten-to-one, how would we continue our already dwindling population?’ He asked, starting to sound impatient now.

  He closed the remainder of the gap between us, startling me so that I unfolded my arms and let go of his axe, which fell safely to the floor beside us.

‘It’s highly unlikely that all dwarf women would choose to be soldiers.’ I rationalised, amazed at myself at still being able to think with him as close as he was.

 I could feel the heat from his body, count the links in his mail. I tilted my head upwards. We were not touching, the only thing holding me there was my mind; conflicted still, but the side that was drawn to him was currently winning out.

‘But you would, and I cannot even consider having your death on my conscience.’ He said softly, his head lowering.

 I couldn’t move, I couldn’t tell right from wrong, my ears were ringing. He was going to kiss me and I wanted it so much that the side of me that would have told me it was a bad idea couldn’t be heard.

‘Thorin, praise be…we thought you’d be dead.’ A voice called, breaking whatever the enchantment had been between us.

The Prince straightened. I recollected my surroundings with a jolt and took a step back from him to see the dwarf who had spoken striding towards us, several armed soldiers at his back. The Prince looked from his friend to me, to the ground, leaned towards me

‘You’ve dropped your axe’ said softly, his lips quirking before turning around to meet the rest of his company ‘you think so little of me, Dwalin?’

‘I didn’t think I’d ever be accused of underestimating you, but you were a lot of them, by the look of it, and with a woman to protect. I’m impressed.’ Dwalin replied as I stealthily picked up the axe, hoping it would go unnoticed.

I had a vague recollection of sighting this dwarf around the mountain; his hair, shaved on both sides of his head and standing up wildly upon the top, was not ordinary. I hadn’t known he was on such good terms with the Prince, however.

‘She can defend herself as well as I ever could.’ The Prince said, nodding towards me. I stared at him, not expecting such praise from him. ‘You were attacked too?’

‘They’re getting bolder. We need to be prepared for war.’ Dwalin nodded gravely.

I started when he said war. The state of affairs here was worse than I had thought. Stepping towards the two men I coughed and both looked round, Dwalin looking more surprised than the Prince.

‘My Lord, I’m sorry to interrupt, but if there’s danger out here…my family…’ I said haltingly.

‘Your family is here? Where?’ Dwalin asked, startled.

‘The South Heath Farm.’ I replied, feeling more and more anxious by the second. If nobody knew they were there my family could have been attacked days ago.

‘I didn’t think anyone lived there.’ Dwalin continued, adding to my feeling of helplessness.

‘They haven’t been there long, if you know where it is can you point me in the right direction?’ I said, knowing I had to leave at that moment.

‘You’re not going on your own.’ The Prince said, and when I opened my mouth to dispute the point he said in an undertone ‘don’t argue with me Hlita, please. I feel guilty for your treatment here as it is, if I sent you into jeopardy, I would not forgive myself.’

‘Pretty words, My Lord.’ I paused to look up into his eyes. ‘I will do as you say, but only if we can leave now.’

At my words, he leapt into action. I stood in awe as his formidable figure took command, dominating the space, and every bearded head took notice.

‘Dwalin, gather the troops. Spread out and head towards South Heath Farm. Be vigilant. I will take Hlita ahead and meet you there.’ He said.

Dwalin shouted his orders and the assemblage set about their tasks. I waited, shifting my weight from one foot to another nervously, watching everyone go. Dwalin approached the Prince and said in a low voice

‘I hope you know what you’re doing, lad.’

The Prince gave him a meaningful look, and they both turned away from another.

‘Follow me.’ The Prince said, making eye contact with me and jerking his head in the direction he was walking in.

I jogged after him. His pace was fast even though he didn’t break out of a walk and he pushed through any undergrowth with much more ease than I did. My feet were hurting and the tiredness that had left me for the excitement of battle had returned.

‘Keep up Hlita.’ He barked.

‘I’m trying.’ I replied breathlessly.

He stopped and faced me. His expression changed from determined to one of concern and he walked back to give me his arm.

‘Lean on me, I’ll help you.’ He said, and I gratefully allowed him to take some of my weight as we walked onwards. ‘Have you walked this far from the Mountain today?’

‘Yes, I set out early. Have you?’ I replied. He shook his head.

‘No, I’ve been here with the company since the day before yesterday.’ He said.

So that meant he must have left the food basket for me just before he left, and it explained why he didn’t look as tired as I felt.

‘I’m glad we’re so far away from the Mountain. I wouldn’t want anyone to see me hanging onto your arm like this.’ I admitted.

‘You are still being worked hard?’ He asked icily, but before I could answer we crested the top of a hill and I could see the small farmhouse where my parents had been living come into view.

I gasped. Dead orcs were scattered around the front door, which had an almighty split down it. There was no sign of life; no noise, no movement came from the house. Just the whinnies of the ponies in the paddock could be heard. I let go of the Princes arm and broke into run, all sense of tiredness disappearing with the thought of my family being in danger.

‘Pa! Pa!’ I shouted as I ran, hazily registering that the Princes heavy footfalls had caught up with me.

I felt an arm around my waist and I was bodily lifted from the ground and stopped from going any further. I struggled against his grip, dropping the axe I was still holding. He wrapped both of his arms around me and pulled me into him.

‘No, don’t just run in there. You don’t know what you’ll find.’ He said into my hair, his breath warming my neck.

‘I have to go! Let me go!’ I yelled as I thrashed in his arms.

‘I’ll go first, please calm down...’ he said, but trailed off as the broken door was yanked open and my father stepped over the threshold.

‘Pa!’ I cried, relief flooding me.

The Prince let me go and I ran into my father’s open arms. My father was a large dwarf and a force of nature when roused; his arms enfolded me and I hugged him back gratefully.

‘What are you doing here?’ He asked.

‘I came to see you, I didn’t know there was danger.’ I replied.

‘I wrote to you to tell you we were moving because of the risk of orc attack. Did you not receive my letter?’ he asked, putting me away from him and looking me over.

‘No, I didn’t. Ma, is she all right?’ I said, and tried to pass him to enter the house. A thick forearm was thrust into my path and blocked my way.

‘No, Hlita, don’t go in.’ My father said.

‘Is she…’

‘She’s alive but weak. I don’t think seeing you this way will be a good thing for her.’ He said, taking my hands in his.

‘Seeing me this way…’ I said, looking down at my thin, worn out self.

‘What’s been happening Hlita? Have you been ill?’ he asked worriedly. I shook my head.

‘It’s just harder work than I had thought.’ I lied.

There was a cough from behind us. I started, I had forgotten that the Prince was there, it was not only rude, but another example of my insubordination to his rank.

‘My Lord, this is my father, Nofen son of Norbom. Pa, this is Prince Thorin.’ I said by way of introduction.

The two men eyed each other as though they were sizing the other up, but my father remembered his manners and bowed his head in respect.

‘Your servant, My Lord.’ He said.

‘And yours.’ The Prince replied, ‘my men are soon to arrive, we will give you aid in moving closer to the Mountain.’

‘My thanks, My Lord. I accept, but only if you can contrive to have my daughter to leave before us.’ My father said, bowing his head again.

‘No, I should stay and help you!’ I interposed angrily.

‘If you stay your mother will see you. Seeing you safely away from here is the only option I have.’ He said, his voice soft but, in his fatherly way, I knew there would be no arguing today. Crestfallen, I blew out a deep breath and nodded unhappily. ‘Good girl. Don’t think I’m not happy to see you, I am, but at least I know you’ll be out of harm’s way in the Mountain.’

‘I’ll see she gets there personally.’ The Prince said.

My father looked up, his expression suspicious, and a flash of understanding hit me. He had seen the Prince holding me back before he exited the house and was turning protective. I sat down on a shallow wall to rest, feeling as though I might have been better to have stayed in the Mountain for all the use I had been.

‘With respect, My Lord, if you have someone you trust among your men I would be happier if they escorted her.’ My father said, as respectfully as a man who had rarely ever had to show deferential treatment to anyone could.

‘As you wish.’ The Prince said curtly. ‘If you have a pony she can ride back I will see to it that it’s stabled in the garrison until it can be returned. She’s worked hard today, sparing her feet the walk back would be better for her.’

My father looked at me, nodded and sighed.

‘I’ll go and get the ponies.’ He said, and stomped off in the direction of the paddocks.

When we were alone, the Prince took a few cautious steps towards me.

‘When they’re settled I’ll send a healer to your mother.’ He said.

‘Thank you. I didn’t know she was as ill as this.’ I said shakily.

‘Did you get the basket?’ He said unsurely, reminding me that I had brought its contents with me.

‘Yes. Thank you. Again. I’ve a lot to thank you for.’

‘All is clear My Lord.’ Dwalin’s voice shouted, and I looked up to see him and the rest of the Prince’s company approaching the house.

‘None?’ The Prince said, frowning.

‘We saw signs that they were heading back North. We need to get back and prepare for battle.’ Dwalin replied grimly. The Prince nodded.

‘I will stay with the company and make sure the occupants here get to safety. You will take Hlita back to the Mountain and ready the men for action.’ The Prince said.

Dwalin glanced at me under heavily lowered brows before giving the Prince a searching look.

‘I really hope you know what you’re doing.’ Dwalin said in an undertone, but still loud enough for me to hear.

The Prince responded with a tilt of his head and walked off without another word. Left with a sullen Dwalin, I was relieved when I heard the sound of hooves as my father let my saddled pony in our direction.

‘Are you ready?’ My father asked.

I nodded, picked up my bag ready to hand over to him.

‘Take these. For Ma.’ I said, thrusting my bag towards him. He took it and looked inside. ‘Could you find my medicine bag? There are some things I need from it.’ I continued.

‘I’ll get it.’ He replied, and paused ‘you shouldn’t have brought us this, you look like you need it.’

‘Please Pa.’ I whispered.

He went reluctantly, wanting to say more but not knowing how. I went to my pony’s head and stroked his white face, wishing that I knew what I was doing.

‘Here.’ A deep voice murmured behind me. I looked around to find the Prince standing close, the axe I had dropped gripped in his large hands.

‘Excuse me?’

‘The axe. For you.’ He said, pushing the weapon onto me.

‘I can’t.’ I said, trying to shove it back at him and failing.

‘If you need to protect yourself you will need a weapon. I’m not going to leave you with just a stick.’ He said, smirking.

‘It was a big stick.’ I said cheekily, taking the axe, and attaching it to my saddle.

‘Dwalin will keep you safe, but be careful.’ He said, and nodded to my pony. ‘Let me leg you up.’

I stepped forward to grip the saddle and lifted my left leg for him to boost me up, which he did, surprisingly gently. Most men when giving assistance into the saddle would use too much strength and nearly tip me off the other side, but the Prince’s assistance landed me softly in the seat of my saddle. He lay a hand on my knee and squeezed it tenderly.

‘Whatever happens, from tonight, your family will be out of harm’s way.’ He said, his eyes flickering away from me at the sound of approaching feet. ‘When you return to the Mountain, get some rest.’

With that, he left me to me advancing father and went to speak with Dwalin. Medicine bag in hand, my father was looking harassed, was walking purposefully towards me. I turned my pony and walked to meet him.

‘I wish we were still travelling.’ I said as I took the bag from him.

‘So do I, then I could keep an eye on you.’ He replied sombrely.

‘I’m fine, Pa.’ I said, but his expression merely darkened.

‘You eat some more before you come back to us, and work less hard. There’s nothing in that Mountain worth making yourself unwell, no matter how kindly that Prince treats you.’

‘I don’t look this way on his orders, nor do I stay for him.’ I said, offended.

‘Make sure it stays that way. He might be worthy, but I don’t want you to lose your head over him. Take care of yourself. We’ll see you soon.’ He said, and walked away.

I sat on my pony watching him go, confused, hurt, and wishing, once again, that things were different. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice Dwalin walk up beside me until he said

‘Are you ready?’

‘Yes, sorry Dwalin, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.’ I said, turning my pony to walk beside him.

He grunted in response, then didn’t say a word until we were much closer to the Mountain. I was tired even in the saddle and was having to hang on to my pony’s mane to help me stay upright. I felt sad and upset; feeling like I didn’t belong anywhere and not wanting to cry in front of Dwalin. I blamed the emotions I was feeling on how tired I was.

‘Thorin told me letters from your family haven’t been reaching you.’ Dwalin said suddenly, making me sit up with a jerk. ‘He asked that from now on you send your post through me. I know your brother, he can take anything to your family when you can’t get there yourself.’

‘Thank you, it’s kind of you.’

‘I’m following orders.’ He said gruffly, then looked up at me. ‘Listen, I don’t want to know what’s going on between you and the young Prince, but he looks on you as a friend, so if you need someone you can trust, you can come and find me.’

‘I will.’ I said gratefully.

My first friend, one that I could talk to, was a grim, unsympathetic looking soldier. Against all my preconceived thoughts, I was reassured. As we approached the Mountain gates I slowed my pony and asked Dwalin to stop for a moment. I dismounted and unfastened the axe from my saddle.

‘Can you give this back to Prince Thorin please, and take care of my pony. I’ll be fine from here.’ I said handing him the axe and the reigns of my pony.

‘Thorin asked me to see you to the gates’ Dwalin said, taking both things suspiciously ‘and if he gave you the axe you should keep it.’

‘We can see the gates, I won’t be in danger between here and there. I don’t think it’s a good thing to be seen together; I don’t want anyone to get suspicious. The axe…if anyone were to find it they would accuse me of stealing. It’s best it gets back to its owner.’ I explained. Dwalin gave one nod.

‘You need someone, you come to me.’ Dwalin said firmly.

I gave one nod back in reply, stroked my pony on the nose in farewell and set off back the Mountain, feeling both worse and better at the same time.

[ecotone99]

[RF] Today

Saturday.

7am.

Alarm rings.

I’m quick to spring out of bed, but that’s only to snooze the alarm and return to the fleeting warmth trapped under the blankets. 9 minutes later again the alarm rings. A pernicious cycle of getting up only to return immediately continues until 7:55 am. Admitting defeat, I knew I couldn’t snooze again. I growled walking to my desk. A mere 20 feet from my bed to the chair where I would spend the next 9 hours of my life wishing I was dead. I never was a coffee person. I sometimes wonder if that’s why the mornings always felt extra rough, though I wasn’t a fan of the jitteriness alternative either.

On my desk were 3 monitors, 1 large one in the center and two slightly smaller ones on each side. The center and right monitors were reserved for my main working activities while the left one was reserved for the disquieting purpose of displaying the call queue.

I sat in the chair staring blankly ahead. What began was a session of leering at the impending doom of what waits for me. Those early morning minutes were ones I hated the most. Knowing that there was a fresh young day ahead of me, ripe with opportunity, an abundance of possibility. Yet I could only see it through what felt like the window of a jail cell, reminding me that today would not be that day. No, instead I would be handed a day filled with anxiety, frustration, and unfulfillment.

It was 14 minutes past 8. I still hadn’t moved. My morning routine consisted of me getting to my desk, doing the absolute bare minimum to sign into the computer, then doing nothing. Absolutely Nothing. Sitting there staring off into the distance. Or more often than not, closing my eyes and placing my head on top of my arms on my desk. Sometimes staring at the carpet beneath me other times remaining in the darkness surrounded by the silence. I was trying to escape. Trying to seek shelter from the world, from what was about to happen. Trying to bring back peace to my own mind and body. Trying to forget, maybe even just for a second, that I wasn’t here. The attempts were futile, only delaying the inevitable, or on some occasions making it worse.

Then of course there were the tics (motor-tics). Moments where my whole-body twitches in an uncontrolled involuntary movement as if I was flinching from a gunshot going off in the next room. These began a few months back and would happen every so often when I lied down to sleep. But as my stress continued to grow so did the frequency. Eventually they even followed me from my bed to my desk. Whenever I was to place my head down and try to close my eyes the tics would chase me, making me realize that I can’t even escape to my own mind without being chased. On one severe occasion while placing my head down the phone next to me rang, causing me to flinch so dramatically it was truly painful. The way my body reacted had frightened me. I remember the overwhelming feelings immediately after of sorrow and remorse that I had ever let it get this far. That I hadn’t stopped this sooner or gotten help.

I looked up at call queue. 3 calls in queue. There was only one other employee working currently and he was already on a call for 8 minutes now. My second coworker wasn’t set to start working until 30 minutes later. But that was it. Just us three guys. Three soldiers in the trenches, set to stave off what felt like an unrelenting horde for the next 9 hours.

I felt like I let the anticipation build up for long enough. I took the first call. It was a young gentleman that had a question that frankly had nothing to do with IT at all, but instead was suited more for HR. This was a common occurrence as no other department in the company had a support phone line other than IT. I explained to him in a detached tone that he would need to email the HR department with his inquiry and wait for a response from them. His tone changed from probing to one of irate with a hint of mistrust. As he explained to me that he had already done such thing and still received no such response his choice in words made it seem like he believed I knew the answer to his original question, yet I was withholding it for some reason. And that maybe he would be able to strongarm it out of me. But no, I did not. If I had I would have gladly told him it because I knew that would have been the quickest way to make him go away. I told him once more that only HR would be able to assist him and then ended the call. (2 min 11 sec)

I waited for a bit before the next call. I always do now. When I had first started, I used to be able to churn out call after call. Seldom ever using the allotted 2 minutes of after call wrap (ACW — additional time after each call before the next to complete a ticket or paperwork). Though now I use every second I’ve got. I actually use more than I’ve got. A colleague early on taught me a trick to extend the ACW after a call for as long as I need to before going back into available or taking the next call from the queue. It was a handy trick but one to be used sparingly. If the use of it got too high it would prompt a conversation from my manager discouraging its use. But that only mattered back when I cared about my job.

Let’s get one thing clear. I am not a good employee. I was. I might still be able to be. But currently I am not. I could care less if I am on time. I could care less if I am meeting metrics or standards. I could care less if I have 200 overdue tickets in my queue. Something has caused this apathy. Maybe its burnout, maybe it’s the fact that these are trying times the world is in currently, or maybe it’s because management doesn’t seem to care either. We have been severely understaffed since back in November when people began to leave our team. Help Desk is an entry position, so it’s not expected of you to stay there forever. Don’t get me wrong some do and end up stuck there for what feels like forever. But the idea is to move on at a certain point. The problem arose when all of these people left their positions, but the positions were never refilled. The size of our team continued to slowly decrease over the year all while we were entering the busiest period we had ever seen. Management doesn’t seem to care that we are understaffed and overworked. Or at least they don’t seem to be doing anything about it.

I take the next call. It’s an older Hispanic man. He speaks in broken English. He’s having an issue with the time punch software and he can’t log his hours. He is one of our contractors down in the southern part of the state who works with the roofing teams. He is upset because this is the third time this week he has had to call us for support. I am upset because this is the third time this week he has had to call us for support. However, I empathize for this gentleman and the many like him at the company. He works in the field and fulfills a general contractor position. The most advanced piece of technology he uses is a 2010 Motorola Razr. Yet in order to do something as simple as clock in and clock out he has to navigate multiple sites and use two different usernames and passwords that he is expected to remember. This man never thought he would need a degree in computer science just to cash a paycheck as a roofer. I listen to him rant and afterwards I reset one of his passwords. He is able to log in now. He continues to spout about how he shouldn’t have to go through all of this and how all of this is a waste of time and that he shouldn’t have to remember two usernames and two passwords. I ignore him and ask him if there is anything else I can assist him with. He says no and hangs up the phone. (16 min 32 sec)

The longer calls (anything over 6 minutes really) always seem to take the most damage on me. There’s something about taking 15 minutes to solve an issue that should have only taken 3 but couldn’t because you needed to over explain everything in the beginning and try to test every single aspect of it afterwards. All while you hold me hostage. Like a teller who you’ve made open the safe but you refuse to leave or let us go until you have counted every last bill inside. As if somehow there would be any different outcome based on the amount. You’ve got your money. Now leave me alone.

I try to get up and walk away from my desk. But I’m not sure where to go. I know I’ll have to come right back, so why even leave in the first place? The chains only let you reach so far anyway. I try to cope the same way I do after every call, by either using my phone and scrolling for a distraction or placing my head down. I’m not sure what makes me put my head down on my desk the way I do. I guess I get a false comfort from it. I’m still a bit tired and with my head on the desk I start to doze. A tic hits me and I violently jerk. I can feel an increased pressure in my chest, but I can’t tell if its real or all in my head. I look at the clock. 9:00am. 8 more hours to go.

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[cathrynstreich]

Tips for Your Next Virtual Happy Hour or Party

(TNS)—We have all suddenly and somewhat unwillingly been ushered into the age of the social video call.

Yes, we’ve all been on a few video conferences for work here and there—a necessary evil of remote teams and global businesses. But this is the first time we’ve all found ourselves celebrating birthdays, baby showers, engagements and even weddings with our friends and family compacted into boxes on a screen. The ink was barely dry on the shutdown orders last month before people started organizing happy hours, game nights, book clubs, watch parties, brunches and other gatherings online.

The age of social distancing has proved to be remarkably social. But there’s a bit of a learning curve to using video conferencing, even if you’ve done it for work before. The etiquette and expectations are a little different when you’re just vibing with your friends— but they still exist.

There’s a lot of overlap between pro tips for using Zoom, Skype or Google Hangouts for work and with your friends.

If you’ve never joined or set up a video call before, our ultimate guide to hanging out with your friends online has instructions. Once you’re ready to attain the next level of video-conferencing capabilities, come back here.

Using your laptop is better than your phone. You’ll quickly discover that holding a phone up at face height for an extended period of time is no fun. The video and sound quality tend to be lower coming from your phone. Also, if you have your laptop set up on a table in front of you, it’s easier to eat and drink. It also makes it feel a little more natural if you need to get up—like you’re just pushing your chair back from the table at a dinner party instead of making everyone else stare at your ceiling as your phone sits face-up while you refill your drink.

With Zoom, gallery view is better than speaker video. With speaker video, the person who’s making the most noise is a big picture, while everyone else is in a little bar at the side or along the top. Speaker view makes sense when you’re watching a work presentation but feels less natural in a group setting. Sometimes, more than one person is talking, or some other noise prompts the camera to switch over, like sirens outside or a dog barking. Gallery view gives you the “Brady Bunch”-style grid where you’re all in the same sized window. To change which view you’re seeing, go to the top right of the screen and click “Gallery View.”

Muting yourself still applies. In a get-together with a couple of other friends, sure, leave yourself unmuted. But when five or more people are joining the video call, it’s polite to mute yourself when you aren’t speaking. Laptop and phone microphones pick up sound differently than our ears do. What sounds to you like the normal hustle and bustle of making dinner in the background while you listen to your friends talk might be a magnified banging and clashing to them.

To look your best, put your laptop on a stack of books and check your background before you go live. I covered this in my complete guide to working from home, but it all still applies here. Put your laptop on top of a stack of books so the camera is at about eye level while you’re sitting down. Otherwise, you risk incurring the dreaded down-facing double chin.

Your friends are going to care less about what your house looks like than your boss might, but it’s still good to tidy up before guests come over, even if they’re only in attendance virtually.

“In a sense we’ve all become set designers,” said Mark Marino, who says he’d used Zoom a handful of times before coronavirus but now uses it regularly in his job as a professor who teaches writing at USC.

Just double-check that people aren’t staring at a mountain of dirty laundry or empty cans before you click “join meeting.” An alternative: Queue up some good virtual backgrounds.

Be the host with the most.

If you’re hosting the meeting with Zoom, you’ll need to upgrade to a Pro account or have to restart the meeting every 40 minutes when the free version runs out. Google Hangouts and Skype don’t set time limits. Try to start your gatherings on time so people aren’t left hanging on the hold screen.

Also, if you’re setting it up, plan some games that take advantage of the technology instead of trying to work around it. For more on that, keep reading. OK, we’re on the call. Now what?

Social events via video conference require a bit more planning and finesse than a casual hang.

Plan things to do other things than just talking.

In a normal party setting, you’d split off and have side conversations among a few people and migrate around to different groups. Here, you have to keep a conversation going among everyone at once. That’s challenging. If you’re hosting, it might be more helpful to set an agenda so people know what to expect: “We’ll chat from 6 to 6:30-ish, then I was thinking we could (play some games / do a scavenger hunt / watch the new season of “Nailed It!” on Netflix / work on our separate crafting projects simultaneously.)”

We have a ton of ideas for that in our ultimate online hangout guide. A few to get your started: Jackbox games, virtual card and board games on Playingcards.io, or tabletop RPGs—either standbys like Dungeons and Dragons, or ones designed specifically to be played virtually, like the #ZoomJam games Mark Marino’s students have been challenged to make. Party classics like Charades, Pictionary and Bingo are easily transferable to a video call.

Another idea: Be apart, together.

Pull out your Nintendo Switches and play Animal Crossing (the ultimate game for this moment in history) at the same time. Do crafts or a DIY project. You don’t have to be actively engaging with one another the entire time to feel together. Jennifer Peepas, who writes the advice blog Captain Awkward, called it “parallel socializing.” She and her friends have logged onto Zoom to knit together.

Scavenger hunts can take advantage of your separate locations and be a fun opportunity to move around a bit. The host names an object and everyone else has a certain amount of time (say, 30 seconds) to find it in their own house. A coffee mug with writing on it. A twist tie. A sock in a color other than white. A roll of toilet paper. (Credit where credit is due: I first heard of this idea on Twitter and vowed to steal it. Mission accomplished.)

PowerPoint Parties take advantage of digital screen-sharing technology. Everyone prepares a short presentation on a topic they’re enthusiastic about, whether it’s sourdough discard recipes or obscure unsolved mysteries or reality TV contestants. Then you take turns sharing.

Know when to say goodnight.

You aren’t the only person who feels totally worn out by these. A video call requires you to be “on” and maintaining conversation and eye contact in a way you don’t have to if you’re all meeting up at a bar. Marino likened the psychic exhaustion to “encountering a dementor in Harry Potter”—it’s just a weird, soul-sucking experience. And the fact that you can see your own face all the time is frankly perturbing. Feel free to have a sticky note on hand to keep yourself out of your line of sight.

So don’t plan an all-nighter. The general rule of thumb is that the more people on the call, the shorter it should be. I have found that the one-hour-to-90-minute range tends to be the sweet spot for most online gatherings that involve more than one or two other people.

Excusing yourself from the call can be a little tricky. Most of the reasons we give to leave a social situation no longer apply. You don’t need to beat traffic. You don’t have to get home to let the dog out. You probably don’t have somewhere else you need to be (though more and more people are finding themselves double-booked for Zoom hangouts these days).

“Just say, ‘it’s time for me to take off,’ ‘time for me to go,’ that’s it,” said Lizzie Post, the president of the Emily Post Institute. She said to resist the urge to pretend you’re having technical difficulties or the WiFi is going out. Your friends will get it and probably be relieved to have an excuse to say, “You know, I’m gonna get going too.”

“Most people are going through waves of being in weird headspace of wanting to connect or not wanting to connect or needing to get things done,” Post said. “Have confidence saying things like, ‘Hey, guys, I’m gonna take off, it’s been really fun chatting with you all, see you soon.”

Peepas, the Captain Awkward advice writer, said if you don’t feel comfortable being that assertive, use some outside help: an oven timer.

“If you’re trying to keep in touch with people, you do want to talk to them but you know you don’t want to do it for an hour, set a timer in another room (for however long you’d like to talk), and then enjoy your call,” she said, “and when the oven timer goes off, just say, ‘Oh, that’s my timer! I’ll talk to you next week.'”

It creates an invisible external force that the person you’re talking to likely won’t question. Up to you whether you decide to put something delicious in the oven to bake first.

©2020 Los Angeles Times Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC

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[steveramsdale]

The “Rhymy Blog” Blog

The “ Rhymy Blog” Blog

This blog will contain an absolute first and a treat. You will hear Mairi’s voice. That’s right. You’ll have to hold on until the end, but you’ll get there. You could, of course, scroll right on down there now. I would, if I were you. You won’t know the context, but you won’t have to read the rest of blog. It’s another first as well because it’s a poem. Good things come to those who wait.

But first - I have some clearing up to do. Last week’s blog, as you know, was finished and published in a great hurry. You just don’t really know why. I will tell you. I had to go somewhere. I had to finish some business from Friday which I was unable to tell you about as it would be a long story and I had to go somewhere urgently. So, I will tell you about Friday (last Friday) today and then you’ll know why I had to go somewhere.

Fortunately, this week has been a typically, uneventful week. Therefore, having last week to tell you about means I can blog.

On Wednesday last week (I didn’t tell you about this, either, but it completes the story) we went, fairly early, to Sergili which is a huge car bazaar. There are new and old cars for sale but there are hundreds of car parts shops and stalls. We wanted to get ‘proper’ seat belts for the van. As we wandered around, my phone rang and it was Yuri, the master. He told me to come to his garage. When we arrived, he took us to the electrician and, it transpired, we could take the van. He told us there were one or two things to work on – such as the wipers only having one speed – but, after a visit to a wheel alignment place (this involved sitting in a mechanic’s workshop for about 45 minutes), we finally had the van.

When we drove away from there it was about time for some food. We went to the new shopping centre I told you about a few weeks ago. Mairi was not particularly impressed with the selection of shops but we had some nice noodles.

We then went to get new tyres. Following a recommendation, we went to a place which was on the way home, sort of. For a very reasonable price, we replaced all of the tyres and they put the best one on to the spare for us. And then, with one wrong turn, we went home.

Some of the guys at NBU – where we live – have be asking regularly about the van for all of the weeks it has been with Yuri, so, when I turned up at the gate, they were interested to have a closer look. We had to stop just inside the gate for an inspection. The security guard even wanted to drive up and down the road. We were finally home!

I had promised our friend who had helped us with the purchase and talking to Yuri, that we would take her out somewhere once it was all done, so we decided we would take a trip on Friday. With another colleague and friend, we decided we would drive to a city called Shymkent, just across the border in Kazakhstan. I spent Thursday doing a bit more tidying inside and then went to a car cleaning place down the road. They did a great job on the outside and took off another layer of dirt on the inside, in the front. So we were all set for the trip.

We picked up Viktoriya first, then went to fill the tank before picking up Kate. I had thought that this was the best order but I don’t think it was. However, we were then on the road, spirits were high and the chatter flowed. There seemed to be a set of red traffic lights every 50 metres but, before to long were reached the border. Just before the actual Uzbek border, there was a barrier across the road. I had to take my passport in to a little booth where a police man wrote my details in a log book. Then we went to the actual border. My passengers went to the border control for people on foot and then I was summoned there, too. So we all got through there with no problem. I then drove the car to the car-checking point. It turned out that I should not have gone to the other border control but that error was easily fixed. After about 15 minutes, my vehicle and its contents had been checked and we drove about 200 metres to the Kazakh border. A very similar process was followed here and, without any mistakes we were allowed in to Kazakhstan.

Finally it seemed that the actual road-trip could begin. We all settled for the 120km drive to the city. We soon reached a motorway with a pretty good surface and settled in to our cruising speed. However, here the fun ends! Without warning hot water suddenly shot out from under the dashboard and steam covered the windscreen. I could see enough to pull over to the hard shoulder and we all got out. Despite not be an expert; I knew that something was wrong. I thought that the radiator must have ‘broken’. We looked at the engine, which revealed nothing obvious. I took off the front grill to discover that the radiator was cold. This was very strange. None of us had any data connection. I tried calling Yuri who, coincidently I knew was in Kazakhstan, but he did not answer. After a few minutes, a young man stopped to see if we needed help. He was either a mechanic or he knew a lot about engines. He told us that the problem was with the heater. He disconnected the pipes and tried to seal them with the few resources available. Kate and Viktoriya were, obviously, the translator but they said he was not a fluent Russian speaker. He would not take any money but recommended that we should find somewhere for better repairs. We decided that turning around was the best option – I really wanted some sort of recovery vehicle but we had no way of contacting anybody. We had about three litres of water so we added this to the cooling system and set off looking for a chance to u-turn.

After a couple of km, we could and so headed back the way we had come. After a very short time we could all smell that we were over-heating and so I stopped again. We could see that water was still coming out of the pipes the man had disconnected. Soon a people-carrier stopped. The driver produced a tow-rope. He was clearly a taxi driver with a full vehicle. His passengers complained so he left. Then two more men stopped and also had a good look at everything, both leaning over the engine with lit cigarettes in their mouths and the engine running. They could offer no further help other than about three litres of water and the empty bottle. While they were there, the taxi driver came back but soon left again. This whole thing was getting frustrating. We could see buildings not to far away so we decided to drive there slowly and get water and to then drive/wait/refill with water/repeat back to the border or to find more help in that process. This is what we did. We had to change money as we had no tengi, we bought some water and got some tap water. So, with the water tank filled again, we set off.

After another 5km or so, we stopped at a road-side café. There were some sinks outside the toilets so we refilled the water bottles. We also decided we should eat as it was past lunchtime anyway, we needed to let the engine cool and we didn’t know if we would get the chance again. I don’t really have time to tell you that I ordered plov. Will the other finished eating, I went to refill the water and I tried to improve the seal on the pipe I could see hanging down. I was not very successful.

We made one more water stop and then were able to reach the border. Every time we stopped, somebody would point to the water leaking from under the front of the van. At the border I chatted to some men who were very interested in it. We were told we could go through the Kazakh border. Kate and Viktoriya had gone to a little bazaar next to the gates and we could not contact them but decided they would realise where we had gone and we would see them at some point, so we drove to the gate and were aloud through. It did not take too long to get through the Kazakh side again. The foot passengers again went their way and I went to the same man who had let me in. At the check point the man asked for a document I didn’t have. He said I should have been given it on entry. He took me back in and the matter was discussed. It seems that they decided that as I had not been given it they would not bother about it!

All was going well. Re-united, again we drove towards the Uzbek border, 200 metres or so away. We joined a queue of around 20 vehicles. Kate and Viktoriya came to the van and we recommended that they walk across the border and get a taxi the 15km back to Tashkent. They insisted that they would stay with us in case we needed translation and because we were in this together. I wonder if they regretted that decision at any point! There were two line of vehicles – cars on the left and trucks and lorries on the right. They were alternating who was let through but the process, it emerged, was unbelievably slow. They were letting three cars at a time through the gate or three or four lorries. The gates would then shut for 40 – 60 minutes. I counted that we were the twelfth car at one point. A number of times we told our friends that they could/should go but they would not. I even said that Mairi should go with them, she absolutely would not. And so the wait continued. Three cars – a void. Some trucks. A void. Three cars. There was a woman selling somca car to car. There were people climbing through the fence separating the two sides of the road. The road was a bridge. One young woman walking across threw some rubbish – food wrapping – in to the river. Another young woman was waiting on the bridge. A young man joined her with shopping bags. She opened the packaging on some bed sheets and looked at them. An older woman (the mother of one over them) joined them. The young woman put the bedding in her bag and the older woman threw the packaging in to the river.

After about four hours, we were in the ‘next three cars’ group. There had been a little drama when a people carrier that had been in the lorry lane arrived at the front of that line. People objected. He was sent to the back. This will have added another three or four hours to his day!

Finally, the gate opened. Car one went through. Car two went through. I drove – car three – the guard held up his hand, stopped me and closed the gate. I was a little disappointed. I even went to argue with him! He would not look at or speak to me.

We waited again. Of course, the gate eventually opened and we again joined a queue. This time we were not leaving Uzbekistan but entering. So the bureaucracy was turned up to ‘Soviet’ on the bureaucracy meter. I had to go from window to window to show passports, get pieces of paper, take the paper to another window to get it stamped, go to a different room to get the next piece of paper for someone else to look at and stamp and finally go back to the original window for everything to be looked at again. There was a form to be filled in, of course. All of this was done with Uzbek men who have never heard of ‘a queue’ and push, reach over and generally try to get in front of everybody else. At last it was time to check the car. This was done fairly quickly (if taken apart from the entire process). We could load up and drive back in to the country. Of course, the man at the last gate asked to see our passports. May be he didn’t know what all the other people working there were doing!

If you cast your mind back to our arrival at the border in the morning (it was now almost mid-night), you will remember the road block and the little hut. We again pulled up there. A car was coming through the other way. It went passed and the police man closed the gate. He then looked at me, expecting me to get out with my passport. I am not sure how my expression looked to him - I did not feel pleased – but he opened the gate again and waved me through!

At the first likely-looking spot I stopped. I was not happy about leaving the van and suggested I sleep there and sort things out in the morning. Mairi would not hear of this. We summoned a taxi and all headed back to Tashkent.

This brings us to last Saturday morning and the unfinished blog. I woke up early and got a taxi back to the van. I had got a rescue service number and arranged to be rescued home. This was fairly easy – sending a map of my location using my phone. During this process I though I had lost my passport, to put the hat on the whole thing. I had not. I had handed it to Mairi after one of the 400 people who needed to see it had looked at it.

On Sunday, the same recovery vehicle picked me up and took me back to Yuri who, after much looking and chuntering and testing decided that I may have damaged the head or head gasket. A fairly big job. So, I am again with out a vehicle. I bought the van in January, I have driven it fewer than 10 times and have yet to drive myself to work! The 5,000-mile drive home looks like a trip to Mars at the moment!

As I told you, this actual blog week we largely uneventful. One important thing that happened was a plov lesson. Another lovely friend and colleague took us to Chorsu bazaar. Mairi wanted to buy an Uzbek jacket and knew we could get a better deal with a local friend helping negotiate. She also took to to all of the stalls we needed to visit to buy plov ingredients. She then brought us home and showed me her family plov recipe. We then ate the meal, together, with bread and salad. That cheered me up no end after my murder of the van.

I have to include one ‘funny thing kids say’ feature before you hear from Mairi. Like lots of schools, this year we introduced a ‘Lockdown’ procedure. This is a drill for if there is an intruder. We all have to go in to a room, lock the door and hide. We have had two practices. On Thursday, one of my girls asked if we would be having another Lockdown drill. I said that I didn’t know, teachers were not always told if there would be a drill so it seemed like the real thing. She went on to tell me that it was her “favourite” of the drills! I did not know students ranked the drills by preference.

So what is Mairi’s contribution? It’s a poem. This was written in the queue. I hope you enjoy it. let us know if you would like a regular poetry section in the blog. I don’t think it rhymes, the blog title is misleading.

Bye for now.

At the border

Time has no meaning

It goes at its own pace

Which Is Slow

V

E

R

Y

S

L

O

W

At the border

Pedestrians move in minutes

And vehicles in hours

Endlessssssssssss...........

Hoursssssssssssss..........

At the border

Reality isn’t

Hope is dashed

Home seems

A long forgotten promise

At the border

The men in green

Hold all the power

And we

Can do nothing

But wait........

[obxentertainment]

It had been quite a few years since we last visited Kings Dominion amusement park near Richmond, Virginia, a bygone era before our 11-year-old, Ozzie, had stepped into (and was tall enough for) the wild new world of the bigger attractions, so when a new coaster was announced for 2018, we knew it was time to return.

Kings Dominion is where I started my love affair with roller coasters at around the same age my son is now, and I couldn’t wait to finally get Ozzie on their classic wooden monsters Rebel Yell (now known as Racer ’75) and Grizzly, but what we were all most anticipating was the park’s newest ride, Twisted Timbers, a wood-steel hybrid coaster that is actually a far more intense upgrade of the original Hurler woody that was in its place until last year. And it did not disappoint.

Upon entering the park gates, we immediately headed for Twisted Timbers, where we stood in line for about 20 minutes before hopping on for a ferociously fun ride. The wait time was not bad at all, especially considering it was the longest we stood in line for anything all day. The ride itself is truly an entirely new beast, baring only the slightest resemblance to its former incarnation as the Hurler. It lived up to its name, its steel tracks twisting and turning sharply through its wooden frame. We all loved it.

After getting a Twisted start to our day, we next hopped on the neighboring Apple Zapple (formerly known as Ricochet), a mousetrap style single-car coaster with a plunging first drop and fear inducing turns atop a track that is virtually invisible when looking down on either side, creating a feeling that the car is about to tip over at any moment.

Next was Grizzly, a traditional wooden coaster that is as terrifyingly shaky as it is fast. It was a little too bumpy for Oz, but I appreciate and actually love the added thrill of feeling like it could jump off the track. It’s a woody for hardcore woody fans.

By this time, we needed to cool off, so we took a refreshing ride on the Shenandoah Lumber Company log flume, and then got really soaked in the raging river rapids of White Water Canyon. Ozzie then took Sue for a flight on board one of the Flying Eagles, which he enjoyed having the ability to steer, as the breeze helped dry them off.

Then it was time for the classic Racer ’75, which I will always refer to by its former name of Rebel Yell, a twin track, one with a blue train and one with red, with airtime hill after airtime hill for what seems like a mile before turning around for another run of airtime hills. It is awesome in its simplicity, and Ozzie loved it. We rode it numerous times, on both tracks, including the front and back seats, and most times we did not even have to wait in line at all, walking right up and getting on the coaster.

Earlier, when we picked up our tickets upon arrival, for the first time we opted for the All Day Dining deal for $30, which includes one entree of your choice every 90 minutes, and we found that if one person in your group gets the meal deal and if you keep track of your time, one entree is more than enough to keep everyone snacked up but still relatively light on your feet. Sue was in charge of keeping track of each 90 minute interval and deciding what meal we would get at what time based on its proximity to whatever ride we were about to get on.

This worked great for the three us, as we were never hungry and yet never too full to keep moving, and by the second snack, the dining deal has already paid for itself. We especially liked the pot roast from the Country Kitchen restaurant.

We also opted to get one of the souvenir cups, worth the extra money when you take advantage of the free refills all day long, which we certainly did. And while it can be a bit of a hassle at times taking the cup onto rides or leaving it at the queue line, it is a cool memento to take home that will remind you of the great times you had at the park.

Fueled up on tasty food, Backlot Stunt Coaster was a total blast, while the underwater-tunneled Anaconda was bit too jerky for Oz’s liking. From there, the indoors sci-fi themed launch coaster Flight of Fear took us to space and back, and the only trackless bobsled coaster on the continent, Avalanche, was fast and smooth, with Ozzie allowed to ride in a car all by himself.

We even took a spin on the smaller Halloween-themed Great Pumpkin Coaster (which was officially Ozzie’s first coaster many years ago) and a mini version of Racer ’75 called Woodstock Express (originally called Scooby-Doo and later Scooby-Doo’s Ghoster Coaster), which brought back more childhood nostalgia for me. And we just had to revisit another favorite from Ozzie’s younger years at the park, the interactive dark ride Boo Blasters on Boo Hill (formerly Scooby-Doo’s Haunted Mansion).

But it was Dominator, the world’s longest floorless roller coaster that features five inversions and one of the largest vertical loops ever, that proved to be Ozzie’s favorite. As soon was got off Dominator the first time, Ozzie was ready to ride it again, this time in the front seat, and then again in the back seat, which he determined is the best seat on the coaster.

The park’s only two coasters we didn’t ride, Volcano was not open on the day we visited and Ozzie decided to save the towering Intimidator 305 for next year.

Overall, wait times for the rides were minimal to none, service in the restaurants was quick and friendly, and the thrills were unbeatable, as we had an absolutely fantastic day at Kings Dominion.

You can watch some highlights from our adventure at Kings Dominion, including Ozzie’s reactions after riding many of the park’s roller coasters for the first time, in the video below, and then scroll down to view our photo gallery.

For more Outer Banks entertainment news, follow @obxe.

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Kings Dominion 2018 Highlights [Video / Photo Gallery] #KingsDominion It had been quite a few years since we last visited Kings Dominion amusement park near Richmond, Virginia, a bygone era before our 11-year-old, Ozzie, had stepped into (and was tall enough for) the wild new world of the bigger attractions, so when a new coaster was announced for 2018, we knew it was time to return.

[covetousness-blog]

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