#excited to add them to my blades collection. it Only Grows Bigger...

[orcelito]

Also here are the throwing stars I inadvisably bought today

They were pretty cheap and they are So Cool 🥺

Spike pile lol

[cypher2]

OL Reign’s Bethany Balcer unexpectedly burst onto the scene last season as she won the 2019 NWSL Rookie of the Year. When you add her backstory and personality to her skill on the pitch, she is truly a rising star in the league.

Instead of attending a big college after starring for Unity Christian High School, Balcer stayed in Michigan to play for Spring Arbor, an NAIA school. During her four years as a Cougar, she put up massive numbers, never scoring fewer than 30 goals in a season. Bethany ended her career with 129 goals and 45 assists. She went on to try out for Reign FC and became the first NAIA alum to ink a deal in the NWSL. In her first professional season, she scored six goals and added two assists.

Did she benefit from having so much success at a smaller school more than a player having less production at a bigger school? “If we’re talking about benefitting me going pro, it didn’t help at all. It actually made it harder,” Bethany told BGN. “But in terms of growing my soccer ability, I think it provided many benefits. I was able to develop a confidence on the ball that has made me more comfortable in games. Having time and space to dribble made me a more fearless player. I had more opportunities to develop a scoring mentality and that played out in all four of my years.”

“Soccer never felt like a burden or a job, and I have many friends at D1 schools who have felt that way. Going to an NAIA school really allowed me to relax and continue to enjoy the game.”

Bethany wasn’t the only one in her house growing up that enjoyed soccer, as her four siblings all played the sport. “I’m super grateful to come from a soccer family. Some of my best memories are being dragged to my older siblings’ tournaments and playing with them,” Bethany said.

“We’re all incredibly competitive which made for many arguments, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. We love all sports, and often would play things other than soccer, like make-up games like roller blade football soccer (exactly how it sounds),” she added with a laugh.

As the second-youngest of the Balcer kids, Bethany does hold a competitive edge over her younger brother, Grant, who was a goalkeeper at Unity Christian. She recalled, “Last year when I was home, I took three PKs on him and made all 3. So I’m 100% against him and probably won’t take anymore!”

Grant wrapped up his high school athletic career and will be heading to Seattle University to join the Redhawks soccer team. “He’s one of my favorite people on this earth so I’m excited for him to continue his dream of playing a sport collegiately,” the proud big sister said.

Including for her funny back-and-forth exchanges with Grant, Bethany is a must-follow across social media. She said, “I’ve tamed my TikTok addiction, but they are so fun to make and I love being goofy with my teammates!”

While she has fun doing dances with teammates like Sofia Huerta and Taylor Smith, Balcer also understands the opposite side of social media. She’s been outspoken on Twitter about the social justice issues that are affecting the United States. “I think it’s incredibly important for everyone to recognize the platform they’ve been given and use it to speak out about social justice issues. I’ve learned so much from teammates in the past month or so, and I don’t want to stop learning,” she explained. “I think the most dangerous thing to be in these situations is ignorant. I always felt in the past that I was never qualified to speak out on such issues, but now I’ve recognized that my silence has hurt so many people.

“The more we speak out and address issues within our nation, the better off we’ll be, and I’m so glad this movement has gained traction after all these years.” She added that she wants to continue to grow and learn from people of color about the injustice they face.

On the pitch, she’s been able to pick up knowledge from a great group of veterans like Jess Fishlock, Allie Long, and Megan Rapinoe. “They’ve all really helped me technically. That was an area of my game that grew a lot last year, as it needed to,” Balcer said. “They helped me settle in and just gave great advice for many different situations on the field. To know the specifics of your position as well as the formation and movement as a whole is crucial at this level and they gave me great knowledge regarding that.”

“I love all the vets. They’ve truly made this team culture special, and they are incredible people off the field and I’m so grateful to call them friends.”

After learning from Rapinoe and Long as a rookie, she was able to follow in their footsteps as she was called up to the USWNT camp in December by her former Reign coach Vlatko Andonovski.

Now, Bethany will get to follow up on her sensational rookie campaign in the 2020 NWSL Challenge Cup. “To say I’m excited is an understatement. As a lover of the game, my favorite thing to do is simply play. I think lots of us are like that,” she explained. “We obviously love to train and get better, but suiting up for a game is different and special. To represent OL Reign is an honor. We’ve all worked incredibly hard collectively, and I can’t wait for us to put out a great product on the field.” Balcer and OL Reign kick off their tournament run on June 30th when they take on Sky Blue FC at 7 PM PT.

[leobelgrave]

LEONIDAS BELGRAVE [CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONNAIRE]

BASICS - 1. Height?

Leo is 6′0.

2. Eye color?

Blue/Gray.

3. Do they need glasses?

No.

4. Scars and birthmark?

They have a star-shaped scar on the back of their neck, due to them being incidentally stabbed with a screwdriver by their older brother. They also have a small, round birthmark on the right side of their rib cage, which they affectionately refer to as Pascal, the third nipple.

5. Tattoos and piercings?

They have a poke tattoo of the Aries constellation on their left shoulder blade, which they have no memory of getting.

6. Right or left handed?

Left!

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD)

8. Do they have any allergies?

Not that they’re aware of.

9. Favorite color?

Doesn’t have one. Prefers warmer colors, though.

10. Typical outfits?

As eccentric as possible. Sometimes, when they feel more modest they’ll opt for baja hoodies, shawls, mismatched socks. But they also aren’t too shy to wear something more revealing. Sometimes skirts, sometimes slacks, one time literally nothing at all. The colors are always vibrant and eye catching regardless of what they are wearing though.

11. Do they wear any makeup?

Sometimes, though usually only when going out. They like to keep it simple, with a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and gloss. Their nails are always painted, though.

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

They always carry a mace around in their bag, but never once have they used it. Why a mace, you may be wondering? Because it is just as chaotic as they are.

PERSONALITY - 13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Optimistic.

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

Extroverted. It’s nearly impossible for them to meet a stranger.

15. What are their pet peeves?

Boring conversation, people who act indifferent about everything, people who get offended easily, using eating utensils when you could use your hands, slow walkers, people who don’t wipe their mouths when they’re eating.

16. What bad habits do they have?

Oh boy. They chew on their cheek, they pull on loose threads, they fidget, they’d bite their nails if polish wasn’t so damn expensive. They are willing to take anything for a temporary escape: usually alcohol and halfling weed but... they are open to other options. They also tend to switch topics quickly and usually focus on having their own reply ready instead of focusing on what the other person is saying.

17. Do they have any phobias?

Getting old. Not physically, but spiritually. In a sense, they’re afraid there’ll be a day where they wake up and realize everything they thought they’d achieve is behind them and they no longer have anything to look forward to or be excited about. Also, sailing. They get seasick easily and there’s too much about the ocean that remains unknown. No thanks.

18. How do they display affection?

They’re super physical. They hold hands a lot, and poke people, and kiss their cheeks, and lay in their laps, and would probably permanently attach themselves to someone if they could swing it. They’re all about affection. It’s intimacy, true, genuine vulnerability, that they can’t really get comfortable with. All the physical attention usually does a good job as a deterrent, though.

19. How competitive are they?

They are ridiculously competitive, even when they don’t mean to be. If they see someone else walking toward the exit at the same time as them, they consciously walk faster and when they beat the other person, who is likely completely unaware there was a race, Leo thinks to themselves, ha, I won!

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

Bigger butt. Next question.

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

They are really good at knitting and crocheting. A good percentage of their wardrobe is home crafted. They also collect rocks and crystals so that they can make jewelry out of them. They always considered themselves artistic, but their drawing and painting abilities were abhorrent, and their singing voice was... well, not great either. So they found their expression through clothing, which is why they make such weird and bold fashion choices.

BACKSTORY - 22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

His parents, Percival and Herron, are each 59. His brother Tiberius is 34, his sister Elexus is 31, and his brother Maximus is 23.

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

Yes, and no. To Leo’s knowledge, they have not spoken in about seven years. They have no memory of this, but they only left home about 11 months ago.

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

They were born in Crowmire, Hegaehend. They grew up there, but ultimately moved to Khaggon in their early twenties.

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

Leo has never had many close friends, as they tend to hold others at a distance for fear of rejection and of any other sort of downfall that would dampen their spirits. They’re open to the idea, but also no one has bothered to try and break down the walls thus far so in a way, they feel they’ve been right to build them up in the first place.

26. Have they had any pets?

They would love one, but they’re way too irresponsible. There is a stray cat that often hangs out on their windowsill. Leo calls it Blue because it is actually red, and sometimes they feed it scraps.

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like?

They grew up pretty comfortable. Their father owned several profitable businesses in Crowmire, so they were lucky to afford a house big enough to fit four children comfortably, and Leo never had to worry about going to bed hungry. All the siblings were meant to stick around and take over the businesses as their own. To Leo’s knowledge, they are the only one who left.

28. What is their educational background?

They went to school full-term, but genuinely did not apply themselves. For instance, when their mother demanded Leo take language courses, they took Draconic and Sylvan. Once they felt they’d learned everything they needed to learn, they sort of tuned it out and waited for it to be over. As a result, Leo isn’t very smart in terms of academic knowledge, but they feel they more than make up for it with street smarts and life experience. (However, they do not in fact make up for it.)

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

A performer of some sort. They used to put on dramatic performances with their family where they’d write scripts and force each of them to play characters. Leo, of course, was always the lead. And yes, it was silly, but they actually weren’t a half bad actor. Oh well.

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

They’d say, “If Mom ever tells you she is good at cutting hair, disagree and politely decline. And the way you’re feeling right now: overlooked, misunderstood, confused- that um... that gets better. You end up liking yourself, so, uh, you know. Might as well start right away. Oh, and when you’re at that one bar with the dog that pees on that dwarf lady, don’t smoke what she sells you. Seriously. Still don’t know where my pants went that night and those were some expensive pants.”

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

When they were younger, back before they really discovered themselves, they were bullied quite a bit. But as they grew to enjoy themselves and realized how cool they were for someone so young, they started to genuinely not care, and also they developed really good debate skills so when someone tried to belittle them, Leo usually ended up coming out with the upper hand.

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

There really isn’t anyone they’d consider a role model. They are not at all like the people who raised them and there weren’t many outside influences who ever bothered to try. That might be a large reason Leo is so aimless most of the time: they don’t know which direction they want to go in yet.

PRESENT - 33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

They have an efficiency apartment that they pretty much just use to shower and, sometimes, to sleep.

34. What is their most treasured possession?

Their Reliquary! They keep it in their closet under their sewing supplies but anytime they’re going on a long trip they bring it with them.

35. What is their drink of choice?

Alcoholic. They don’t care if it is the cheapest ale or the most expensive spirit one can find. If it gets them drunk, it’s good.

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

If they had to choose one, probably Kaylynn just because she’s the only one who isn’t currently dealing with a war. They actually don’t mind the idea of moving to Anari some day, and would seriously consider it if it didn’t mean such a long sea voyage.

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

They aren’t sure, but they hope not.

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

They promised their landlord that they would have the rent, and they did! Two days late, but, still. 

LOVE - 39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

They were thirteen and had to kiss a boy named Oliver at a slumber party. As far as they recall, it was not terrible. It must not have been too bad, because they kissed again several times after.

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

No. Single and terrified of intimacy, unfortunately.

41. Have they ever been in love?

They don’t think of love as some sacred thing that is rare to find; Leo has loved lots of people and lots of things and experiences and memories. Have they ever been in love? No. But if you asked them, they’d lie and say it was all the same.

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

Absolutely. One of the reasons Leo is so guarded from everyone is because they care so easily. And they trust unwavering. And they’re devastated when things don’t pan out the way they expected them to.

SPIRITUALITY - 43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

Yes: Tymora. There was a while where Beshaba was actively trying to get them to start following her instead, but Leo doesn’t remember this. Not that it matters, they ultimately stuck with Tymora anyway.

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

They don’t know. They keep their options open, but if gods exist and magic exists then it’s perfectly reasonable to believe that there is something waiting when the journey is done.

45. What is their spirit animal?

Fox. Chaotic and sly and pretty and full of mischief.

[swargarohana]

death by the fools.

The front door slams open, causing the hinge to creak painfully, spraying dust everywhere. Giri sighs, wondering what the fuck is going on.

He doesn't expect to see Ai storming into his house, face flushed and teary eyed. 

It sets an alarm blaring inside Giri's head and he rises to his feet immediately, trying to approach Ai in a careful way.

"Hey, what's━"

━only for the young lady to storm past him, straight to the bathroom.

Giri stands there, staring at the bathroom door with confusion all over him. It's very unusual for Ai to visit his place; she always complains about how bad his house smells: a combination of cigarettes, weed, and cheap beer, everything that she dislikes.

But now there she is, hogging the bathroom all for herself.

"Who's in the bathroom?" Tio asks, frowning a little. "I need to pee."

"Ai," Giri says, pausing for a moment before he adds, "she was... crying."

Even Tio looks mildly surprised at that. "Crying? She cries? What's wrong?"

"Fuck if I know, man," Giri sighs, deciding to head to the bathroom. Methodical knocks against the wooden door, loud enough for the sound to carry. "Ai?"

His voice is met by silence. The water is running, loud enough to drown anything that comes from the inside.

Worry grows as each second passes with no response coming from Ai.

"Ai?" Giri tries again, louder this time, more persistent. "Tio needs to pee━"

"Why did you bring me into this━" Tio hisses eventhough he appears equally concerned.

"Didn't you say you━"

The door swings open. There stands Ai with her red-rimmed eyes and flushed face, brows drawn into a frown, furious enough that Giri and Tio take a step back. But when she speaks, her voice is raw, dejected.

"Bang," she murmurs, scrubbing a hand over her eyes, "can I bunk in here tonight?"

Relief runs through Giri; at least she's willing to say something to him instead of clamping down. "Yeah, that's fine. Eddy can sleep with us tonight, right?" The last bit is directed to Tio, who nods his head.

"Did... something bad happen at your place?" Tio asks carefully, something Giri has never seen the other man did before. Tio has always been too straightforward, borderline rude, and this time he's actually being considerate.

Still, Ai's face turns sour at that. She doesn't say anything, merely shrugging her shoulders. Bad move from Tio.

"Hey, let's eat something," Giri cuts Tio off when he opens his mouth, presumably about to ask for more details. "Eddy will be home soon, I asked him to buy us fried chickens."

The silence between them is tense, with Ai claiming a sofa for herself and leaving Tio and Giri sitting side by side. Giri itches to reach for his cigarette, but he doesn't want to make Ai uncomfortable.

Ai sighs, breaking the stillness between them. Giri stares at her, eyes sharp and wary.

"I━" she starts, only for the front door to swing open and cutting her off.

Giri catches how her face goes from blank to shocked, catching a trace of something Giri has never seen before, as she leaps to her feet. Something bad must've had happened to her to react like that, the line of her shoulders going rigid.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Giri, too, rises to his feet, carefully blocking the door from her sight. He knows it's Eddy, he could hear his exuberant voice. "It's just Eddy."

"Yeah," comes Tio's voice, "see, I brought Eddy."

Apparently, he's gone to the front to check their visitor and returns with Eddy in tow.

"Hey," Eddy's voice is softer than ever, "sorry I startled you━"

"It's fine," Ai says quickly, cutting him off, "let's just eat."

No one moves,

The tension crawls on his skin and Giri itches to shake it off. "It's okay," he says softly and Ai sighs at that, nodding her head. She slowly sinks down to her sofa, offering Giri a small, sheepish smile.

Giri is glad that it worked, though he's still plagued with confusion. Human is very confusing and he's never good at figuring other people out.

Silence dawns upon them. The usually loud Eddy even keeps his head lowered when they start eating, only occassional chewing noises and ripping paperwraps could be heard. Giri knows he's not the only one who keeps stealing glances towards Ai; next to him, Eddy and Tio are also radiating worry.

"So," once again, Ai breaks the silence, causing Giri to flinch, "I, uh."

She pauses, teeth gnawing on her lower lip, and Giri could actually see thoughts racing inside her head.

"Dad had his friends again today," she starts, choosing to stare at her half-eaten chicken rather than returning Giri's gaze. "They got drunk."

Oh, no. Giri feels dread rising inside him; he feels like he knows where this is going. Judging by the soft inhale coming from Tio, the other man also shares the same sentiment.

"They didn't usually do anything because Dad was around but Dad decided to do some shit," she spits out the word 'shit', contempt clear in her voice, "and his friends━"

Her voice breaks midway, a faint tremble underneath it, but Ai manages to collect herself before Giri or anyone else could offer an ounce of comfort.

"They could've done worse, actually," she murmurs, taking a bite of her fried chicken, "I managed to rough them up a little but they decided to chase me. Sick fucks."

"So I went here, hide in the storage room for a moment. They're scared of Bang Ed and they thought he's here."

Silence fills the room. Giri still watches Ai closely, unable to find the proper words to console her; she looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, and Giri wonders how long has she spent living in fear like this.

"I'm going to kill those fuckers," Eddy grunts, rising to his feet, "I'm going to kill them━"

"Bang, no━"

"Tell me why I shouldn't break their necks." It's startling to see Eddy this furious, but Giri has always known that Eddy has a soft spot for Ai. "Tell me why I shouldn't."

"You can go to jail. Again." The emphasize Ai puts on the word 'again' causes Eddy to frown even deeper.

“For you I would,” he says solemnly, so earnest that Giri feels his heart clenches at the look at Eddy’s face. “For you I wouldn’t mind.”

“Hey, Ed,” Tio rises to his feet, putting both hands on Eddy’s shoulders, “no one is going to jail, okay?” He leans in to whisper something that instantly smooths out the frown on Eddy’s forehead. Tio shifts his attention to Giri, who stares at him with a questioning look on his face, and mouths, ‘Later.’

They have a plan, then.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Giri says softly, raking his brain for more heartfelt speech, “and thank you for telling us.”

Ai smiles, small and soft. “Thank you for letting me stay for the night, Bang.”

Giri frowns at that. “What do you mean for the night? You’re going to stay here from now on.”

“I can’t do that,” Ai sighs, frustration leaking into her voice, “I have to take care of Dad.”

“Until thing cools down, I’m going to stay here. But I have to go back, eventually.” Her tone brooks no disagreement, causing Giri to exhale sharply, leaning back against his seat.

He doesn’t like how this sounds, but the way Tio keeps nudging his side with his elbow means they have a plan.

“Okay,” Giri says eventually, “Okay. Do you need to pick some stuffs from home?”

Ai immediately shakes her head a no. “I’m good, but can I borrow some clothes?”

The three of them are two times bigger than her but Giri nods his head. “I have some of my old stuffs. My shirt is too big for you.”

“If you need anything, just ask me, okay? Or Tio. Or Eddy. You’re a part of this too.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ai is fast asleep in Giri’s spare room, door locked safely and lighting bright enough to blind him. She doesn’t sleep with the light off, she said, too scared of what’s lurking in the dark. Giri understands the sentiment very well.

“Okay,” Tio says, pitching his voice low, “okay, I think I know who.”

“That makes this much easier,” Giri hums, sharpening his knife and watches the blade gleams, “the old man with the balding head, right? He looks like a sex offender.” Violence doesn’t excite him at all, but Giri knows it will be worth it once he sees Ai safe and sound again.

Eddy, on the other hand, has a blood-thirsty grin adorning his face. It twists his handsome face into something rough and harsh, but Giri finds himsef unable to look away. “I’ve heard from the villagers that he did do inappropriate things to some women. Scum.”

They might be a group of men who religiously abuse drug and practically co-dependent on it, but Giri is glad that they agree on one thing: sexual offenders are lower than scum.

“I suggest burn his house,” Tio says easily, cigarette dangling from his lips. He has been fiddling with his lighter for a while, a hopeful look on his face. “We can make it looks like an accident.”

Eddy pouts a little at that. “I want to bash his head on the wall though.”

To Giri’s surprise, Tio smiles softly at Eddy. “We can do that too, babe. Come on, let’s get going. We have to return before Ai wakes up.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The light in the man’s house is on. Giri glances at his friends, but none of them shows a sign of alarm.

“Is it just me who’s very nervous at the moment?” Giri whispers, to which Tio replies with a snort.

“I’ve killed someone, Bang,” Eddy says calmly, eyes soft as he places a hand on Giri’s lower back. “It’s fine.”

There’s something inherently disturbing about that sentence, but Eddy’s hand distracts him from thinking too much about it.

“America is rough, I’m used to it,” Tio says, ruffling Giri’s hair, “you’ll be fine, babe. You have us.”

Disturbing, Giri thinks, his two friends are sick in the head, but he voluntarily joins them. He, too, is sick in the head, judging from the way his dead wife and child were hanging around in his peripheral vision.

There are noises coming from the house, like a group of people cheering, and Giri grows more tense with every step he takes.

“Knock, knock,” Tio says lazily, rapping his knuckles on the door. Next to Giri, Eddy is stretching his arms, relaxing his knuckles. “Open up.”

The noises die down immediately, followed by the door being wrenched open so roughly that Tio has to take a step back.

Here he is. Excitement bubbles up inside Giri at the sight of the man they’re after: a small balding man with a pot-belly.

“Hi,” Tio grins at him, leaning against the door frame, “good evening, neighbour.”

The man is staring at them with a pair of narrowed eyes, face scrunched in what Giri understands as disgust. Oh, so that’s how this goes, huh? Giri hopes it doesn’t have to go this way, but the moment his eyes land on the man, Giri wants nothing but to bash the man’s head against the wall.

“Oh, you’re the men Ai has been hanging out around,” he murmurs, critically eyeing Tio, who has a smirk on his face, to Eddy, who is staring blankly at the man, and to Giri, who tilts his head a little. “What do you want?”

“We want to talk,” Giri says; he could definitely take this man in a fight. “Can we ━“

“Who’s that, Iman?” A voice appears from behind the small man━Iman━, revealing a bigger man. His eyes meet Giri, who smiles a little; he knows the man. Arjun, a thug who terrorize the market. Giri has heard of complaints, whispers between the villagers. Arjun and his group of friends go from door to door, demanding people for levy. Giri wonders why he hasn’t visited his place yet.

“Good evening, Arjun,” Giri hums, thrilled. Arjun, however, doesn’t look happy.

“You’re the punk Ai has been hanging out around, huh? Have you seen her?”

Eddy twitches. Giri merely frowns a little, feigning confusion. “She went home.”

Arjun grins at him, brows raised. “So you don’t take your time trying her out, huh? There are three of you, I bet━“

Eddy’s movement is too fast for Giri to see. A painful crack, then Arjun is laying on the floor, clutching his nose. “Fuck━” Arjun whimpers, blood coating his chin and palms.

Eddy doesn’t even blink. He shoulders past Iman, who stands frozen, and immediately hauls Arjun up to his feet to shove the man against the wall. “Do NOT talk about Ai that way again or I will fucking kill you,” he hisses, one bloodied hand wrapped around Arjun’s jugular. Giri knows he’s squeezing, because Arjun turns into one interesting shade of purple.

“Sorry about my friend, but yes,” Tio steps in with ease, Giri following closely, and with another grunt, Eddy drops the man, who wheezes and gasps for breath. “That’s what we want to talk about.”

“What...?” Iman’s small voice is very interesting to hear.

“I heard from Ai,” Giri starts, carefully making his way towards Iman. The man is two heads shorter than him; it isn’t hard to appear intimidating. “Try to touch her again and we will make your death looks like an accident.”

“You, you sick fucks━fucking druggies━”

Giri sighs, because he knows what is going to happen. Eddy has the shorter man pressed up against the wall in no time and Tio steps in, cigarette nearly pressed against the small man’s neck.

“Let me go, please, please, please━“

“No,” Tio snarls, gritting his teeth, “scum like you deserve a painful death.”

They can take care of Iman. Giri decides to wander to the other room; he heard noises before, there must be someone else here.

And that’s when Giri notices; a glint of knife from the corner of his eyes, and he turns around to━

━hot, searing pain on his left arm, followed by something warm trickling down his arm━

━blood.

“Motherfucker,” Giri grits, avoiding another swing by another man. It must be Iman’s scum friend, noticing the commotion on the front. Fuck, it hurts so bad that Giri couldn’t even think clearly━

A badly aimed punch to the sternum and a kick to the stomach manage to send the man sprawling on the floor, gasping for breath. Giri knows the man is not fully sober; his movements are too sporadic, unstable, and while Giri himself is fond of knives, he would never use a kitchen knife to stab someone. Too messy, he thinks, dizzy with pain.

“Gi? Giri?” comes Tio’s frantic voice, emerging from the other room. “What just━” His eyes grow wide at the blood running down Giri’s arm.

“Hi,” Giri says weakly, clutching his wounded arm. “Help?”

“You fucking dumbass,” Tio rattles out, already tugging his shirt off and uses it to tie a tight knot above the wound, “you’re so fucking stupid, Amar.”

Ouch. Giri knows Tio knows how much he hates the nickname; Tio is very pissed off.

“Hey,” Giri protests, “you’re gonna get cold.”

“I’ll ask for Eddy’s sweater,” Tio answers curtly, finishing with a knot that makes Giri wince. Too tight, he can’t feel his arm. “I can fix this once we get home but Jesus Christ, you’re so stupid.”

“Bang Tio? What━” Eddy’s voice dies down as soon as he catches a glimpse of Giri. “Who the fuck did that to you?” Eddy hisses, frantically looking around until his gaze lands on the man who’s laying on the ground.

“This asshole?” Eddy’s tone of voice has taken a dangerous edge to it and Giri watches as he squats, big hand wrapped around the unconscious man’s neck. “This hurts you, Bang?”

“Eddy, I’m fine,” Giri calls out to the other man, but the blank rage on Eddy’s face won’t go away. “Buddy, don’t, please don’t.”

It snaps something inside Eddy and he takes a step back, recoiling as if he has touched fire. “Okay,” he murmurs, deflating, “okay, Bang. I’m sorry.”

Relief and only relief. Eddy... is complicated, more complicated than the rest of them. Tio has jokingly said that Giri is the only one who could tame Eddy━

━and Giri has just realized that Tio’s words hold a degree of truth to it.

“Thank you, Eddy,” Giri says, trying to convey his sincerity, “where’s Iman?”

Tio is still watching over Giri’s wound with a frown. “The bleeding has stopped. Eddy tied him up, let’s burn this house.”

“Should I call Bima?” Giri asks, heaving himself to his feet. Eddy is immediately on his side, propping him upright. “To clean up the mess?”

“No,” Tio says, already lifting the unconscious man to a side. Giri finds himself unable to look away from the way Tio’s arms flex. “It’s fine, Eddy and I will clean this up.”

“Explosion!” Eddy cheers, murderous aura completely disappeared. “I love explosion.”

Giri smiles at them, something soft growing behind his ribcage. Affection, gratitude, something nameless. “Of course you do, bud. I’ll go talk to Iman, maybe he’s pissing himself.”

The man really does, to Giri’s amusement. It’s a little disgusting, but the way Iman cowers in fear really sets something alight inside Giri.

“Mas, Mas, please━” He whimpers, but Giri regards him with cool interest.

“I won’t hesitate to kill Ai’s father too, you know,” Giri murmurs, “he’s done nothing for her. He makes her life shit.”

The thrill is beyond measure. Giri feels giddy to see the smaller man cowering with fear in front of him, trembling like a leaf. The adrenaline that rushes through him numbs the pain.

Power, Giri decides, is exhilarating.

“Let’s get you inside,” Giri decides, untying a whimpering Iman and drags the smaller man into his own house. He sees Tio and Eddy waiting for him and Giri offers them a smile, a grin.

“Iman is joining them.” Eddy grins at that, a little too joyful, and drags Iman closer to him. “Burn them all, Tio.”

“Mas, Mas Giri, let me go, I didn’t do anything━”

“You raped all those girls in the village,” Giri snarls, one feet against Iman’s neck, and he pushes, just the right way to see the smaller man’s eyes bulging out, “and you hurt Ai.”

Is this how it feels to have someone’s life in his hand? Playing God, listening to them begging for mercy?

Giri likes this, a lot.

“Let’s go,” he says to Eddy and Tio. Tio hums and there’s a hissing sound coming from the back. 5 minutes, Giri has estimated, 5 minutes until the explosion. He’s lucky that Iman’s place is quite secluded; no need to worry for casualty.

They walk away from the house, leaving a whimpering Iman and his two unconscious friends, towards somewhere safer to watch fire engulfing the house.

Giri huffs with each step, clutching his bloodied arm. It stings, hot pain running up his arm, and eventhough the bleeding has stopped, Giri winces.

“Should I carry you, Bang?” Eddy sounds concerned, but Giri waves him a no.

“I’m fine, nothing Tio can’t fix.”

Tio harrumphs at that, his hand on the small of Giri’s back. “You can’t live without me. You’re too stupid.”

“We’re basically co-dependant on each others right now,” Giri agrees, flinching when red hot orange soars with a muted booming sound, nearly blinding his sight.

It’s mesmerizing, and the fact that there are people inside the house doesn’t dampen its beauty. Next to him, Tio inhales sharply.

“Don’t cream your pants,” Giri could hear Eddy murmurs to Tio. A quiet thud and a pained whine could be heard from Eddy.

The fire, Giri realizes, has started a commotion. Several people have gathered in front of Iman’s house, but the flame has gotten too big that no one is brave enough to break into the house.

“Let’s go home,” Giri murmurs, exhaustion creeping up his bones, and home they go.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Giri wakes up with a groan. The amount of painkiller he took before he went to sleep only did a little to the pain he’s feeling. On the far end of the bed, Eddy snuffles, and Giri watches with a smile as he snuggles close to Tio. Tio, on the other hand, has his arm slung on Giri’s waist, face nestled on Giri’s shoulder.

It’s endearing. Giri doesn’t want this to end. It’s confusing. His chest clenches a little at the sight.

Gingerly, Giri pushes himself to a sitting position, rousing Tio from his sleep.

“Gi?” Tio follows him, sitting down on the bed, eyes closed and face bleary. “Huh?”

A hand rises to pet Tio’s messy bedhair. “Go back to sleep, I want to take a walk.” Not quite, he just wants a moment for himself.

“‘Kay.” Tio immediately sinks back to the bed, curling under the blanket. Giri feels his stomach goes warm.

Fuck.

It takes Giri a moment to get off the bed. He’s being careful with his arm, not wanting to open the wound and get blood all over him again. Tio was having the time of his life when he chewed Giri out because of the amount of blood they need to scrub.

Tio burnt his shirt. It can’t be salvaged.

The crisp air brings a smile to his face. It’s cold, it’s fresh, yet Giri still feels warm inside out.

“Bang.”

Giri twitches and turns around frantically, only to find Ai behind him.

“Jesus, you scare me━”

Ai stares at him for a long time, head tilted, as if she’s considering something. “Hm.”

“What?”

“I hope Bang Tio and Ed make you happy, Bang.”

Out of anything that Giri has expected her to say, this is not one of them. “What?”

A cheeky smile blooms on her face. “Heh, you’re too easy to read, Bang.”

“What does that suppose to mean?”

No answer, only a wiggle of her eyebrow. Ai steps closer, and with a sigh, she wraps her arms around Giri’s middle.

“Thank you, Bang.” Her voice is muffled against his shirt and Giri’s pulse jumps at the words; she must’ve heard, she must’ve known everything, 

yet, here she is, giving him a hug early in the morning. Tentatively, Giri returns the hug, patting her shoulders.

“I don’t agree with what you three did,” she says eventually, pulling away, “but seeing other people care of me to that extent is... something, to be honest.”

Ah.

“I know, right,” Giri murmurs, thinking of Tio and Eddy, and smiles. “I understand.”

When his eyes meet Ai’s, there is a mischievous smile on her face. “What?” Giri snaps, heat rising up his cheeks.

“It’s okay. Love is love, no matter how you see it.” Ai, the wise kid, nods her head, looking more cheerful than Giri has ever seen her before. “You don’t receive less than you give.”

With that, she disappears into the house, leaving Giri standing with his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded.

Huh. This must’ve been a fragment of his imagination. Giri heads back to the house and into his room.

Ai’s words ring inside his head, but with Tio’s comforting weight next to him and Eddy’s snore, it’s hard to keep pondering about that.

Later, maybe later.

[rusticrevivals]

My mother does not approve of swearing. Of even the most mild sort.  My sister and I were not even allowed to say ‘shut up’ to each other without being sharply reprimanded.  When my father used to say “what the hell?” in absent-minded consternation over some project he was attempting to repair, she would sharply remind him with his name or an exclamation of shock, that our young, innocent ears were in the vicinity. One of my very earliest memories when I was about 6 and my sister 4, was when we collected our first trial instruments from the London Suzuki Institute, Jennifer’s being the instrument she still plays hours daily as her profession and passion, and mine being the instrument I finally sold to help fund my own profession and passion.

  As my mother, who had had to take a few lessons on each instrument first just so that she could help us at home, was attempting to make a sound from Jennifer’s strings (in front of both sets of grandparents, I might add, who were most interested in these new additions to the family) she became exasperated because no sound was emanating, and in her frustration she said her “F-word”:  “Oh, FIDDLESTICKS!”  without realizing how incredibly apt and timely this choice of ‘swear word’ actually was.  (Although we laughed at her, it became even MORE apt when we realized the problem was in fact to do with the bow, or ‘fiddlestick’  – she had forgotten to resin it!)

Richard’s sons both took violin lessons for a while too, and we still have each of their instruments at Blue Belldon Farm, for some reason, but of course I’ve never owned another ‘cello  (“violincello” is its proper name; thus the apostrophe in front of it each time is technically correct) since I was 18 and sold it to buy my first proper showjumper.  Our father always got a kick out of saying that Jennifer was busy ‘FIDDLIN’ AROUND’ whilst I was outside just “HORSIN’ AROUND’.   But the daily reminders of ‘fiddling’ are everywhere around us.  As mentioned last week, the New Denmark ‘Music Ranch’ has a country band every Saturday night with Atlantic-based expert ‘fiddlers’ (although having been brought up on ‘proper classical music’ and the term ‘violin’,  Mom and I don’t quite have the appreciation that we should have for the fast ‘fiddling’ that is a tradition in these Eastern provinces.)

But as soon as I came here last spring I began seeing and hearing the word ‘fiddle’ in another sense.  Fiddleheads are everywhere!   Plaster Rock, one of our nearest towns, is the Fiddlehead Capital of Canada, and being that our goal is to live self-sufficiently here, Mom/Joy gave us a book called Edible Plants of Atlantic Canada.  The chapter that takes up the most pages is all about the picking and cooking of fiddleheads.  They are highly celebrated here and other than the World Pond Hockey which was mentioned in last week’s blog, they are a main attraction to the area:

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Fiddleheads are one of the first signs of spring, and since we had a bit of a thaw last week, and actually see some grass blades emerging in the Birch Grove and under the apple trees where the ground is slightly warmer because of the tree roots, we are perhaps prematurely, already getting excited about harvesting these delightful delicacies. Fiddleheads are essentially ferns before they become ferns. They are the furled up stage of a fern when they just start to shoot through the ground in early spring.  As they emerge through the fertile, wet April soil, they grow and unfurl quickly, sometimes lasting just a few days in their furled-up stage.

Though all ferns have a fiddlehead stage, it’s the Ostrich fern that is most commonly eaten, and it tastes, when boiled and then sauteed in butter, very much like a combination between broccoli and asparagus. In the farmers’ markets, where they will only be sold for about 10 days, they can be quite pricey, so we definitely will be hunting the marshes and swamps for them ourselves!

Fiddleheads grow prolifically throughout the damp areas of the Eastern Seaboard. Though they are not hard to find, people tend to keep their locations secret so they will not be over -harvested.  Scary thing, though.   Some fiddleheads look like the Ostrich fern varieties and are not only not edible but can be toxic. So, just as I didn’t attempt to harvest the multitude of wonderful-looking mushrooms that sprouted all over our lawn last autumn, I am tentative about this process also.

  In the book Mom gave us as a Christmas present, it mentions an interesting bit of folk lore: it was once believed that to eat fiddleheads would make one invisible! (Kind of ironic, given that the old Polaroid above DOES make us look nearly so!)  Shakespeare even refers to this in Henry IV, Part 1  when he writes “We have the receipt of fern-seed; we walk invisible”. The “fern-seed” superstition pops up again in “The Fair Maid of the Inn,” a  17th century comedy by John Fletcher, et al., as well as in Ben Jonson’s “The New Inn.”  A wonderfully-named fiddlehead cookbook ,  “Fiddleheads and Fairies”, by Nannette Richford, includes many references to the mysticism behind these succulent tasties.

A neighbour recently gave us a frozen bag of them to try. (Herein is a humourous example of rural life, especially among the proud Danish community.  This lady’s husband was ill, so I made some extra chicken and vegetable soup for them, and sent it over in a thermos with Richard. He came back with home-baked coffeecake, a bar of marzipan and the aforementioned bag of frozen greens!)  We ate them immediately for lunch, boiling for about 6 minutes as directed (just in case there are any dangerous toxins left in them!) and then frying with some butter and a touch of salt.  Absolutely delicious!

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I put a walnut in the one photo, to show you the size of them before cooking (although they don’t actually shrink in size as do so many vegetables, as you can see when put out on the plate at right.

That day must have had violins and decorative scrolls in the vibrational airways, because in the afternoon, in our Scrabble game, I could have TWICE put down variations of the word ‘violin’ (although nothing on the board ever did lend itself to my doing so!) And once while I was waiting the half-hour or so that is standard for Richard to take his bloody turn, I looked over to where one of his boys’ old violins (out of their cases to get humidity from our humidifier) was laid out near my beautiful hand-made butter dish by Ontario potter Natalie (from Remembrances Pottery , a friend who worked hard to make the Carlisle Country Craft and Old-fashioned Market Mercantile a success :   https://www.etsy.com/shop/RemembrancesPottery )  How beautiful these ‘scrolls’ look side-by-side!  And you can certainly see where the “Fiddlehead” delicacy gets its name!

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  Richard went to meet his brother where he lives in Saint John this past week, and they had a flying trip down to Cape Cod to look at some car parts his brother wanted.  Richard noticed that the fiddlehead is a symbol of beauty throughout the province, as this sculpture in the city centre is a popular photo for tourists year-round as well .  (That’s right, neither Saint John nor Boston/Cape Cod have snow anymore!)

So yes, while we’ve enjoyed the respite of the winter months to recuperate from the struggles of the big move out here, on top of the arduous efforts to plant, tend, harvest  and preserve both garden and orchard, we ARE looking forward to spring! Mom/Joy is even more anxious than we are for it, as she just returned from her two weeks in Florida with her Aunt Jane, and was none-too-pleased to see those 8 foot banks of snow still along our back roads and caked on the cliff walls as we climbed up Lucy’s Gulch!    She had brought back for us a T-shirt each with a happy stick figure on a lawn tractor, and this has definitely got Richard chomping the bit in anticipation of the first time he can fire up the ole John Deere.

  It was his idea to wear the shirts with the snow outside the window in the background.  The irony is actually a bit sad at this point, however!  We harken back to last spring, the week before I moved out here, when my friend Leanne was visiting from Scotland.   She’s coming again this summer, and Richard has promised her another try on the lawn tractor. (Although she’s a good ole country girl as well, who grew up on the 25,000 acre estate on which I worked with her in Aberdeenshire, in 2009, she had never had the opportunity to cut grass on a tractor, as all the bigger jobs on the estate were naturally done by the team of maintenance staff and groundskeepers! So she put up with the long-winded professorial lectures from my dear counterpart, and endured his shouting when her ‘track’ wasn’t perfectly aligned, or when she didn’t raise the mower at the right moment, and apparently she’s coming back for more of the same – only on the sides of mountainous hillsides this time!)

I look back now on this dreadful Ontario ‘flatness’, and just think how blissfully happy we are to be here,  with our stellar and breath-taking views, away from the busy roads, (I remember waiting to snap the above shot so I  could catch the moment with no cars whizzing by on the highway!) the pollution, the noise…  But I DO miss being able to be out in the garden already, as I know some of you in Ontario are doing!  My friend Anne in Carlisle thought it hilarious to send me the following. The chick is even wearing my hat and peasant skirt here!

That’s about the size of it here, too. We are desperate to get turning over some ground with the pitchfork and rototiller!  Remember last spring, when I posted this cartoon, where Richard thought he was made to look old but I thought I looked JUST like the female graphic?

Well, I told him I wouldn’t do anymore ‘devilish’ comics with pitchforks in hand this year.  So instead, I have done an artists’ rendering of the Canadian Gothic, complete with live-in mother:

And I even have the artist, in fields of gorgeous green, painting it on his canvas!

Surely Pippi can’t complain about this, as it’s his actual FACE?  Anyway, the pitchfork is representative, not just of the devil and devilish qualities, but is of course exactly what it stands for – the act of ‘pitching something to the side’.  So, although my mother detests  swearing of any kind, and although my old  co-“Katima-victim” Dave Landry taught me that “Fiddlesticks” is not the REAL “F-word”, I have taken it upon myself to tell winter to go

    And stay tuned for next week, when we WILL begin planting, whether or not there is still snow out there (and there will be!).   We ordered all our seeds yesterday (organic, with biodegradable packaging, from the same company as last year – Hawthorne Farm in Ontario), and Richard has made most of the seeding tables for our basement greenhouse.  All that remains is to drive over the ‘wall’to Trumpty Dumbty-land, where we can buy flourescent lights much more cheaply than here, sadly, get them hung, get the earth into the tables, and voila!  Seeds will be going in for our whole next year’s quality smorgasbording ! It’s nearly time!  Dirt under the (non-existent) fingernails again! Wahoooooooooo!

Fiddleheads and Pitchforks My mother does not approve of swearing. Of even the most mild sort.  My sister and I were not even allowed to say 'shut up' to each other without being sharply reprimanded.