#i can almost draw him perfectly without a ref.... soon

[geometryyaoi]

full disclosure ive drawn this minor nearly ome-off character like ten times now and in some pieces im ridiculously proud of buf refuse to put on this blog because theyre all selfinsert nonsense

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

FFT: leave her wild; drew gulak

Notes:

So this is my feral!omega fic universe. And this came to me on the main from @andie01​ and one day, I swear to God.. I’m gonna do something with Drew and Lily and the whole concept of a feral omega. So, until I figure it out, have this instead.

Summary:

The night Drew scented Lily / their first meeting. Intense flirty banter ensues.

Warning:

uhh... not really? just lil hints of dominant!gulak, that’s all.

Pairing:

Drew Gulak x OFC, Lily

Strawberry filled the air and Drew froze in the middle of the hallway and inhaled it in sharply. His entire body went from relaxed to taut as a rope and his eyes darted around. The scent got heavier and heavier, until it almost had his mouth physically watering. He growled to himself quietly, hefting the purple strap of leather from one side of his chest to the other.

It all happened so fast when it did happen that as her scent faded seconds later, Drew was left to stand there, hand in his hair as he puzzled it out.

The blonde tore down the hallway,  with Mustafa’s girlfriend Nima hot on her heels, this mischief filled giggle filling the air and piercing through Drew’s deep thought and intent focus. The scent was almost overpowering as the blonde raced past.

… it’s her, she’s ours…

… god she’s so fucking beautiful…

… go on, go after her… she needs us…

… there isn’t time right now… after the match…

… mate needs us now… not after the match… couldn’t you scent it on her…

… not now. Be patient… i have every intention of making myself known as soon as the match ends…

He was just about to step into the dressing room, but she stopped and turned. Her eyes met his and she gave this devilish little grin as her hand raised, fingers tangling in the ends of long blonde strands. She stared him down, almost as if she were undressing him with her eyes.

But what really got to him the most was when she called out to him.

“Has anyone ever told you, sir.. Staring is rude. Take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer?” - was said with a soft laugh punctuating the end of her words. The wink she gave had Drew Gulak tensing his hands at his sides and her little amused smirking giggle, well… It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that his Omega was… Not your typical one.

Most had the thickest hint of needy in their scent. Not her.

This heavy air of wild and free, that replaced the usual neediness.

… a challenge, hmm?… we’ll just see about that…

… she wants you… needs you… just won’t show it easily… but you’ll win her over… we’ll win her over…

Then, as fast as it all happened, his Omega was gone, disappearing out into the parking lot, leaving just the faintest hint of wild and over ripened strawberries in her wake. Drew inhaled deeply again and then took a long and shaky breath.

Focusing on the task at hand was going to be difficult now. Not so difficult he couldn’t, but just a shade more challenging than he might have previously thought.

X

Out in the parking lot, Lily exhaled sharply. Her breath was shaky and she leaned heavily against the door, staring up at the darkening sky. Just that fire in those eyes.. Her thighs were absolutely coated with slick. It was taking every single ounce of her willpower not to march right back in there and seek him out.

… Alphas are all entitled schmucks though… name one you know who isn’t an asshole when the other side takes over…

…. Go to him…. Ours… Want…. Need… so much… fuck….

…then again Lily thought to herself on the subject of her Alpha apparently being none other than Drew Gulak, he’s too controlled for that and something tells me that while maybe he has his moments… he is far from an asshole type… but there’s no way it would ever work, not without one of one or the other changing massively… is there?

From beside her, Nima spoke up.

“You do realize.. If you try to keep him at arms length, it isn’t going to work. And Drew isn’t.. A bad guy. Not at all. He’s not like the others, he wouldn’t hurt you. That is what you’re afraid of, is it not?”

“It is. But how do I know Drew Gulak isn’t the same as literally every single other Alpha out there? I mean…” Lily dragged her fingers through her hair and grimaced as the teeth she’d had filed into fangs recently poked at her lower lip.

“Still stand by thinking it’d be ‘wicked’ to have fangs?” Nima questioned with a soft laugh as she gazed at her friend. Despite not being the same as Lily was, she knew enough alphas, betas and omegas to know that what was happening to her best friend right now was huge. And Lily, well.. She was probably overthinking it, just like always.

“Hell yes. They suit me. Just.. wish they’d hurry and dull at the tip.”

Nima snickered, she didn’t have to be Lily’s longtime best friend to realize that Lily thought she was in the clear and the subject at hand was going to change. She’d simply let the matter drop for the moment.

She got the distinct feeling that Drew Gulak was going to be relentless in his pursuit and that could be a very good thing for her best friend. Lily needed and most certainly deserved the attention and stability Drew would bring to the table.

And Drew, well.. Lily could teach him how to loosen up a little, hopefully.

Honestly, she couldn’t wait to see how the rest of the night unfolded. She knew how driven Drew could be when he set his mind to something… and if that look in his eyes was anything to go by, well… He’d set his mind to having Lily as his chosen Omega.

X

The match ended just the way he’d pictured it ending and the ref raised his arms in victory. The strap was still clutched tight in his hand and despite himself, his eyes scanned the crowd.

At some point during the match, he’d scented her in the area.. And he felt an intent gaze.

An intent gaze that persisted throughout the entirety of his match to defend the belt. Just knowing she’d seen him… Gave him this sense of pride.

And yes, maybe he was a little smug. Because despite the whole air of distrust / amusement he’d picked up earlier, she was admittedly curious enough about him to watch his title defense.

He made his way up the ramp on autopilot, it barely registered as he stepped through the curtains and into the backstage area. He stopped to lean against a wall, gather himself together a little bit.

Her scent was much heavier now. If he had to guess, she was in the throes of heat fever. Just the thought of that had him a little out of sorts.

And he sensed that she might well be right now too.

And that it also was not going to be easy to get her to see reason. To see that no, he wasn’t at all like the other Alphas they were surrounded by.

But, he thought to himself, he was going to die trying if he had to.

He was just about to step away from the wall, set off to go track her down when Mandy Rose cornered him. He stared down at her, a blank look on his face as she trailed her fingertip over his chest and bit her lip.

“That was a very, very impressive win.”

“And? Your point? I have to go.” Drew shoved past her, leaving her to stand there, staring at him as he walked away. Drew rounded a corner and a wall of wild and over ripened strawberry hit him, encasing him and almost sending him right into a stupor. His body tensed ever so slightly.

The blonde stared up at him in amusement.

“In a hurry, tiger?”

-  fuck, her voice is so soft and low, she’s practically purring, just how the fuck am I supposed to… focus… on anything… ever again… the thought came and he pushed it out quickly, in favor of answering.

“I prefer wolf… And no, not now.” Drew stepped a bit closer. The heaviness of her scent was drawing all sorts of attention from the other Alphas he shared a roster with. He wanted it perfectly clear just whom the blonde in front of him was meant for.

“Oh really?” Lily’s teeth tugged at her lip and she stared up at him, conflicted. There was this air of confidence practically radiating off of him that drew her to him and yet, the fact that he was an Alpha -and apparently, her Alpha, it was keeping her at bay. She’d heard of far too many bad experiences to just.. Give in easily.

Her own mother’s experience with the bond, for starters.

His scent hung heavily in the air, earthy and yet still crisp and clean somehow. She breathed it in deeply, trying to be as covert about it as possible, but when she saw that little amused gleam in his eyes, she knew she’d been caught. He moved closer. Fuck, he’s a giant, she swallowed hard as the thought came bursting to the forefront of her mind. His hand reached out, brushing away the shaggy fringe that hung in her eyes to neatly tuck it away behind her ear. He gave a satisfied smile as he did it, muttered in a smooth and quiet tone, “There now, that’s much better. I can actually see your eyes.”

“Maybe I liked my hair messy, sir.” Lily started to protest, biting her lip, biting just a little too hard and swearing over it when she felt the pointed tip of her filed teeth lightly stab against the soft flesh of her mouth as her lips settled into a pout. She gave him an almost defiant look and Drew chuckled, giving a lazy shrug. “I’ll keep that in mind then.”

“Yeah.. Do that.” Lily swallowed hard again and shuffled her feet, tilting her head slightly to look up at him. “Your match was amazing, by the way.. Not that I was like.. Watching or anything.”

He chuckled and at the sudden filling of the hallway, found himself pressing much closer. His hand lingered at her hip, giving just the slightest hint of a squeeze as he boldly met and held her gaze. She went to look away, he tilted her chin so that she couldn’t, so that she had to see him.

“Now we both know that isn’t true. You were watching. Which is good. It’s okay to admit you’re curious about me.”

“No, I just happen to be passing by.” Lily tried to insist, even as he shook his head and chuckled. She found herself pressing closer, despite everything in her trying it’s best to resist the urge, to fight the pull to him she felt.

It was almost overwhelming. Like being in a strong current that she couldn’t get out of. And the scariest part?

Deep down she didn’t really want to get away. She didn’t want to put up a fight, but it was in her nature to an extent.

The two sides of her were conflicted and battling it out.

“Either way.. I’m glad you stuck around and watched. It kind of gave the match a meaning and a purpose for me.”

“You mean beyond that purple strap you’ve got yourself there?” Lily eyed the belt and he chuckled, raising a hand to rub his chin. When she pouted a little because he’d moved his hand, he was quick to put it back down at her hip where he had it and he gave her an amused look.

The heat in her body was hanging heavily between them and when he saw her sway a little on her feet, he gripped her hips tighter, pulling her in closer and as a result, closing the distance between them. “That is exactly what I mean.”

“Yeah? Tryin to prove something to little old me, big guy?” Lily sucked in a deep and harsh breath just to stop the whine from coming when she actually pressed her body right against his just to keep from falling forward, tired of trying to fight everything like she had been for nearly two days now.

It wasn’t getting any easier at all. The calmest she’d felt was right now, with him standing here, his hands on her hips, his body against her own. She could actually breathe again.

… you know this isn’t gonna go well… you’re two very different people…

… we want him… he’s chosen us… stop fighting it…

Drew felt the slackening of her body and he took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t even be standing here right now.” his hand raised to her forehead, the back of it resting against as he hissed at the spike in her body temperature. The scent of her was almost syrupy sweet now and her mouth opened and closed again, almost as if she fully intended to protest but for whatever reason, she stopped.

“Yes, well.. I have to work.”

“You need to rest.” he bent, picking her up. She squeaked in surprise and eyed him, biting her lip, almost as if she were considering what he was trying to do. “I have feet, you can put me down.”

“I could.” Drew responded in a firm and yet mild tone, shrugging as he continued, “But I’m not going to.”

“Just why the hell not, hmm?” Lily asked the  question, purposely brushing her lips right against the side of his neck. She smirked to herself when she felt his pulse quicken even more. Despite everything in her continuing to insist she protest, she do something to stop the magnet’s pull she was under, she found herself nuzzling against him, resting her head against the space between his shoulder and neck.

“Because, princess.. What kind of Alpha would I be if I did make you walk right now, hmm?” his voice was whisper quiet, almost a low hum and she stared at him intently, taking a few deep breaths. “The kind that I’m used to.” Lily answered truthfully. There was no sense in lying to the man, if he insisted on pursuit.

“Clearly, you’re used to the wrong kind.” Drew scoffed and found himself wondering just where her misconceptions about the bond stemmed from. She wiggled just a little in his grip and he held her tighter, pushing open the door to a quieter and far less crowded room backstage with his foot and stepping inside, sitting her down. Once he had her sitting down, he began to walk back and forth, thinking everything out.

“Possibly. But tell me, sir.. Why should I believe that you’re not just looking for holes to fuck like all the rest?”

Drew stopped and stepped between her legs as he snorted in laughter and his fingertip trailed her jaw, tilting her chin upward so he could stare down at her. “If I were looking for that, I’d go and find someone completely useless and tedious to deal with like Mandy Rose. I didn’t and I don’t intend to. No,” he eyed her and barely restrained a low throaty growl from deep in his chest as his eyes met hers again, finishing, “I’ve made up my mind. And once I make up my mind, princess, you’ll find that I don’t change it often.”

Lily sucked in a breath in an attempt to cover a whine. She failed miserably. Her mouth opened and closed and it did so again and again, still no words coming. The heat was almost searing her skin now. “You’re betting on a losing outcome this time, I hate to tell you.”

“You believe so? Because I don’t, actually. You might say one thing.. But I know the truth.”

Lily swallowed hard, her eyes darting around. Drew cupped her jaw and made her look directly at him again and when she did, she swore under her breath. He could tell she was exhausted. She’d probably been fighting this far longer than he knew. She’d probably started to feel the change days before he ever scented her, before the other side chose her.

It tended to happen that way.

“So what is this truth you know, hmm?” Lily scooted to the very edge of the table, her arms raising and slipping around his neck. If he was going to keep calling her out, damn straight, she thought to herself, she was going to keep pushing. Sooner or later, one or the other would hit a non comfort zone.

Drew picked right up on what she was doing and he chuckled quietly, giving her an amused smirk. “Oh princess. You really think you’ll make me back down first, hmm?”

“I’ll go as far as I need to.” Lily answered, gulping as she did. Her lips carefully brushed right against his and he sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the pierce of sharp fangs prickling at his gums.. The wolf within was… beyond ready to lay claim.

“You will, hmm..” Drew’s eyes darted down, one of his hands left her hip and moved over her thighs almost casually as he looked back up, hint of an /innocent/ smirk on his face when his eyes met hers. She gulped, even more this time. A sharp hiss lingered in the air as Drew’s hand continued to lazily move over her skin, almost intimately. Almost as if he were… learning the way to get a response out of her. After a second or two to collect herself, she gave a nod, but it wasn’t as confident as she’d been up to this point.

Lily was in grave danger of cracking like an egg.

“I.. I will.” her voice wavered just a shade and she mumbled the words softly pressing her lips right against his as her fingertips dug into his shoulders and she went from keeping a healthy distance to pressing completely against him. When her tongue danced over his lips, he growled and dug his fingertips into her hip, backing away. He had to breathe.

It was… Intense.

A thousand times more intense than he’d ever thought it might be.

Her body rubbed against his and he growled quietly, raising a hand, resting it against the back of her neck, pulling her mouth against his roughly, giving a greedy kiss. She started off with her palm down against his chest, as if she intended to pull him away, but before too long, her fingertips were digging into his skin lightly, earning her another deep growl that escaped into the kiss and was quickly swallowed. She repeated it, the rubbing herself against him and he nipped at her lip.

“Don’t fight it. You have no reason to.”

“I have every reason..” Lily managed to take a few deep breaths before pulling his mouth back against her own greedily, “To fight it.”

“Name one.”

The kiss broke  and Drew stared down at her solemnly, waiting.

“I..I… You’ll try to change me.. All of you Alphas say you won’t. You always do. And when you can’t, well.. You’ll be gone too.”

“If I wanted to change you, I’d find someone else.. Someone who fit what you seem to think I want.” Drew answered patiently, leaning back in. Lily tapped a fingertip against his pecs and stared up at him, pondering over what he said.

“Maybe you have me curious.. But I’m gonna… Need time.. Proof you’re not just another over entitled schmuck.”

Drew chuckled and nodded, taking a deep breath to get himself back under control. “I think I can manage that. I’m a patient guy when I really want something and I believe it’s worthwhile to be so. Took a few years, but I now have this.” he nodded ot the belt lying discarded on the tabletop next to her and Lily swallowed hard, leaning against him heavily.

“It’s so fucking hot in here..”

“It’s your fever, princess. Let’s get you out of here, hmm?” Drew cupped her jaw, pulling her mouth back to his as he mumbled the statement quietly.

“Okay, alright.. For the moment, you win. Simply because I am too damn tired to argue.”

[eurekq]

so here they are.... my revamped darlings. naohiko, rika, amane, and maya are new! im going to put all their bios under the cut, they’re mostly copypasted from the old ref though except for the new kids :P i really like naohiko, he’s basically an amalgamation of every percussionist i’ve ever known lmfao

basic premise: 16 fresh-out-of-highschool prodigies are invited to star in well-respected and widely-watched big brother-esque reality tv show, which takes place on a cruise ship. what they weren't expecting was for the show's 25th season to be a killing game! the students: CHOUMI YUKIYAMA: exceptional among even her fellow shsls, choumi made her historic mark on ballet by becoming the world's youngest ever prima ballerina at the age of 13 and japan's first ever prima ballerina assoluta at 18. fans flock to her ethereal, angelic grace on stage as well as to the percieved sense of otherworldlyness surrounding her albinism. on the darker side of her popularity, repeated sexual harassment from fans and male dance partners alike has hardened her world view to make her not quite cold, but definitely reserved in her emotions. she adapts fairly easy to stressful situations and pushes through pain with almost no visible outward struggle due to her all too common experience with dancing through foot and ankle injuries. because of this she usually ends up taking initiative in difficult scenarios if no one else steps forward. she is also a quite talented hobbyist figure skater and is fluent in both english and russian. REN KIKUHARA: a fairly odd florist in that instead of ordering flowers to arrange into bouquets, every flower he sells is grown himself. although this means that his selection is seasonally and fairly regionally limited, he has an incredible talent for working with plants and can even sometimes coax out-of-zone flowers to grow. he's fluent in hanakotoba and is surprisingly good at flirting through flowers without it seeming cheesy, although he doesn't do it very often. people often remark that his bouquets often seem to have more love and life in them than store-bought ones. ren is a calm and kind soul and prefers listening to talking, with what he does say always seeming to be just the right words for the situation. MARIKO MIKAMI: mariko was a sickly child, and spent a large part of her elementary school years in hospitals. around the age of seven, she began folding paper cranes as something to do, and wished to live normally after she folded her 1000th. she soon recovered, and feels that she owes her life to origami. she is precise and calculating in everything she does, which shines through in her art: every delicate, artful piece of origami that she makes is creased and folded perfectly. she also dabbles in wet-fold origami. she's most famous for her dry-fold though, and her pieces are well known for their complex, precise, mathematical beauty. she refuses to fold paper cranes anymore, feeling that they are too sacred for her to touch after they saved her life as a child. a calm, slightly disconcerting smile is always on her face, no matter the circumstance; her manner is polite for the most part, if i a little aggressive. MOMOTAROU KOBARA: momotarou, born into a rich family that fufilled his near-every want, made a name for himself in the world of collecting at the age of just eleven by, through luck and love for the series, collecting every pokemon card. from then on he set onto collecting just about anything non-perishable: pins, collectors set bandaids, vinyls, etc. he has exceptional luck in finding deals on ebay and other sites. he cant really be called a hoarder, since he likes to have just one of everything; he resells, gifts, or uses any duplicates. his mood swings between a dreamy, chilled out, flirtatious persona and periods of numb depression when it hits him that his whole life revolves around material possesions and that he has no real human connections. SARA KUROKAWA: a talented young woman from a long line of popular backalley tattoo artists. she combines traditional symbolism and youthful influence in her designs to make something new and more appealing for the younger generation, and is a huge proponent for tattoos being shown off for fashion rather than hidden away in the traditional style. sara does have (illegal) tattoos done by her older siblings on her arms despite the minimum age being 20, although her being homeschooled, looking older than her actual age, and having a tendency to wear long sleeves year round has led her to encounter few problems. she and her family are among the many who simply choose to ignore the statute requiring a medical license to tattoo. sara is a fairly rude person in a backhanded way, acts stereotypically catty and even a little deranged sometimes, and enjoys making herself the center of attention, whether through her appearance (dyed pink hair and white contacts) or the things she says. the only two things that can break her shell and make her excited and genuine are tattooing and piano, which she has played from a young age and loves. NAOHIKO KINZUMI: the son of a concert pianist and a professional jazz drummer, naohiko shortcutted the usual pots-and-pans percussion stage most children go through and spent most of his childhood hitting actual drums. blessed with perfect pitch and a natural feel for rhythm, his parents enrolled him in private music lessons at age five, and he joined onto his first indoor percussion ensemble at age 13. a fast learner, naohiko can play most all percussion instruments at a professional level, including both tuned and auxiliary. he is especially known for his drumset skill, specifically being able to match the speed and complexity of most double kick pedal rhythms with just one foot, and his delicate grace at bowed vibraphone. naohiko is loud, brash, and fun, with an infectious smile and sense of humor that draws people in. despite the flashiness of his drumset playing, his favourite instruments are actually the weird obscure ones, like the waterphone, mahler hammer, and "bucket of loud objects to be dumped on the floor". HARUMI HAMANAKA: harumi is a sweet and bubbly girl, if almost cloyingly so. her good luck is a fairly stable force (nowhere near as chaotic as komaeda, for example), generally acting in the favor of wishes of people around her. her mother intensly wanted for her to be on the show because of the exposure it provides, and this is what harumi attributes to her being selected. despite the way her luck operates, shes no doormat and in fact has an overwhelming force of personality, and her sweet demeanor can become rather passive aggressive if challenged on pretty much anything. SHOU KATSUKI (PROTAG): pushed to succeed in the game from a very young age, shou is japan's reigning chess champion, a FIDE-certified grandmaster, and went to international competition the year before the killing game. he played through to the finals with influenza, which worsened through the matches due to lack of treatment and culminated in debilitating pneumonia that left him in the hospital and unable to play for first. because of this, he's cultivated a sort of inferiority complex that he tries to cover for with self-confidence, which actually comes off as condescending rudeness. he has a natural talent for cause and effect analyzation and is good at planning ahead. he gets flustered easily over trivial things and is a sore loser, but tends not to crack under actual pressure. shou doesn't like to be associated with his family due to the intense pressure they put him under only to steal his winnings the second he began to succeed and thus prefers to be referred to by his given name, even by near-strangers. he does genuinely love chess, but his favourite board game is actually risk. (no one ever wants to play with him, though.) RIKA FUJIMIYA: originally scouted as a young child for her unique eyes and birthmarks, rika's first minor film role at the age of nine left the director stunned at her acting capability. as someone who grew up with a very murky self image and a difficulty interpreting social situations, rika lived most of her early life essentially "acting" the way she believed others would respond well to, which resulted in her easily adapting to doing the same for the cameras. she went on to have a very prolific child acting career without really settling into a niche. As a teenager she took her first steps into stage acting, playing juliet capulet at 16 in a moving and extremely impressive performance, and later at 18 performing a striking and memorable female hamlet. her deep and rich voice has also landed her several voice acting roles. her personality offstage has solidified a lot more since her younger years, although she doesn't go out of her way to talk to anyone, fan or otherwise. when approached, she is polite, gentle, and humble, although she has trouble separating her image as a celebrity from that of her as a person and thus it is extremely difficult to get to know her. KENJI MINAMOTO: an eccentric and a bit airheaded olympic fencer whose strange insistence on not wearing protective gear during practice (he believes it makes him better by giving him a stronger motivation to not get hit) has earned him many a scar over the years, and has left at least half of his joints in braces at any given time. he follows his own bushido-esque moral code (the details of which he will not tell anyone), although he will not put himself above whapping the occasional really annoying person in the ankles. his épée is his best friend and he carries it most everywhere. most of the scars on his face and hands are actually from trying to put in his very sharp industrial piercings while drunk. despite his oddities, his light-footed and elegant ambidextrous fencing has been compared by many to a graceful dance, and although in many respects he comes across as dumb, on the court his mind is laser-focused and unbelievably quick and analytic. AMANE BECKE: a more lowkey type of talented than her fellow contestants, amane hasn't won any major competitions, been on tv, set any records, or anything of that sort. she does, however, run what is widely considered the best bakery in japan. based out of nagano and the daughter of a swiss pastry chef, amane has a natural talent for baking nurtured through over a decade of dedication and love for the craft. she excels at interesting flavor combinations, but her true genius is in her classic, feel-good baked goods. many say that the things she bakes just taste like home and warmth. amane is as warm and sweet as her creations, but with a spark of wit and mad-scientist-y genius that make her an entertaining joy to watch work, if a little overbearing to talk to. EISUKE ITOU: eisuke grew up sewing clothes for his younger sisters barbie dolls, and he particularly loved dressmaking. he gained exposure in his first year of highschool by handmaking gorgeous outfits for his class's booth at the school festival, and, through application to various junior fashion competitions, he was eventually noticed by a big-name designer in paris. however, he found learning french next to impossible and has spent the year prior to the game in relative isolation, unable to have any real human conversation. his psychological state was fairly severely impacted by his long hours spent sewing and designing on internship with no company to get him by, and he is now debilitatingly socially anxious and finds conversation difficult and awkward. MAYA HANABAYASHI: maya spent her early teens with only a passing interest in survival-based media, having enjoyed hunger games and similar media, but not to the point of obsession. however, when traveling on a plane with her father back from visiting family in las vegas, she found herself in a similar situation when their plane went down in a heavily forested area of california, leaving a seventeen year old maya as the only survivor. with only a swiss army knife and a lipstick-shaped stun gun gifted to her by her father to feel safer during their stay in vegas, she survived alone in the woods hatchet-style for six months until late fall, when the fallen leaves made her campfire coincidentally visible to a very observant park ranger on firewatch. after being rescued and returned home to japan, maya found it extremely difficult to readjust to normal life. her thick and warm camo jacket, more a fashion statement when she was wearing it originally, was lifesaver to her during the cold spring, and she she can't bring herself to separate from it even with multiple rips and burns in the fabric. she has refused multiple book deals due to still being heavily traumatized, but after a long period of deliberation decided to go on the show as a way of finally moving forward and acknowledging it. maya isn't exactly socially anxious, but rather closed off and disconnected. JUN TENSEI: born jun harada, many believe that his spiritual connection is the real deal, but a few critics hold that he is most likely just an incredibly talented bluffer. the real truth about him is unknown, but many say that his seances do accurately reflect the personalities of their deceased loved ones and help them feel at peace. he is deeply religious, but not to any one traditional faith (although he does use traditional christian symbols such as crucifixes and items such as holy water on occasion). he believes strongly in the power of the soul and its ability to exist beyond death. his voice is soft and almost hypnotic, and he has a penchant for gentle teasing and riddles. he comes off as pretty shady to most, but he's fairly harmless. TOMOKO KAITA: a peppy and outgoing astrology guru who can read your deepest flaws and strengths with just your date and time of birth. known worldwide for her extremely accurate personal horoscopes. despite this, she strongly believes in the ability of an individual to defy their fate through hard work and self improvement. she dislikes giving negative horoscopes, and does her best to focus on the positives that the stars hold in store. her smile brightens the whole room! she is intensely loyal to her friends, to the point of self-sacrificing emotional labor. YUU IROIKE: yuu iroike isn't even his real name, and it's a mystery as to how show staff even tracked down his mailing address to get him on the show. he's a well-known public figure for painting huge, sprawling, colorful murals in tokyo, yet who he really is remains unknown. he paints faster than his murals can be scrubbed away, and has somehow never been prosecuted for vandalism because his graffiti is generally considered an improvment. he's sly, mysterious, and teasing in person, and gets a bit of an itchy trigger finger when he hasn't painted in a while. His skill with spray paint is so great that it seems as if the paint bends to his very will.

[a-table-of-fics]

Cull to Adventure, Chapter 9, Draft 1

Marie brought a third fan, pointing it at the couch she had laid Agent 4 on. He was already getting some consistency back, but she wanted to make sure. She wasn’t worried about any mess on the couch, as the ink would soon evaporate anyway. She set it to “low,” like the others, then turned to pet the Zapfish who was powering all three. She was there for a few moments before going walking over and getting another Lamprede from the cooler she had.

“You did good out there, Agent 4,” she said, handing it to him. With a small smile, she added, “I sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Cull looked over, nodding appreciatively with a still-sloshy head.

“I didn’t think the Octoweapons would be fully operational, though,” she continued. “Gotta hand it to the Octarians; they know how to prepare.”

“So I’m gonna fight m-more ovens?” Cull groaned.

“I don’t know about that,” she replied, “But I do know we’re gonna need the big guns.”

She reached into her kimono, revealing a walkie talkie attached to a cord.

“Hello, Sheldon, can you hear me? Over.”

“Loud and clear, Mar-“ Sheldon started, before correcting himself, “erm, Agent 2. Over!”

Marie had to lean back from her device as Sheldon squealed with excitement, before clearing his throat and continuing.

“Agent 4, you’re in good hands! We at Ammo Knights have over 542 million years of trusted service, and I’m proud to say my weapons can be of help to the New Squidbeak Splatoon! What better place for a test run than the real-world conditions of saving Inkopolis, am I right? You’ll even get to use them once developed, and I think you’ll—”

“Okay,” Marie interjected. “Down, boy. I think Agent 4 gets the point.”

“Right,” Sheldon replied. “Well, come back tomorrow and I’ll get an Ammo Knights Enhancifier for you. It’ll automatically upgrade your weaponry and even make different bombs for you, if you can provide materials and enough energy from Power Eggs.”

“S-sounds good,” Cull said, finally felling solid enough to get onto his feet. “I…I think I need s-some time, anyway. It’s getting late…”

Marie nodded. The sky was already starting to fade from pink to purple, a lovely sight even in a place like Octo Canyon.

“Well, you can stay here for the night,” she said. “I mean, Agent 3 slept at an outpost like this, too, you know.”

“I… I kinda want to go home…” Cull admitted, taking a few semisolid steps to the grate to Inkopolis. “Got a few things t-to take care of…”

“You sure? You might still wanna…”

Marie paused, taking in Agent 4’s expression.

“…Suit yourself,” she finally said, “but the offer stands, okay?”

Cull looked back and gave a thumbs-up that was just a little runny, then disappeared into the grate.

Marie sighed, watching his inky footsteps disappear with mild interest before turning the fans off. Gently, she picked up the Zapfish and prepared to take it somewhere.

***

“Youuu okay?” Flage asked, in her usual sing-song voice. “I know it’s been ho-ot, but you’re not looking so great.”

“Y-yeah, I’ll… I’ll be fine,” Cull said, reflexively pulling his beanie down a little.

“Come now,” Flage said, reaching for the front of his hat, “Wearing a beanie in this he-heat? Don’t be silly!”

Cull leaned back so quickly that he almost fell right over the bench’s armrest.

“Please don’t,” he said.

“Oh, sorryyy,” she said, scooching backwards a little. “Forgot that’s pa-art of your look.”

“Y-yeah,” Cull said, leaning back up, “Guess…guess you could say it is.”

He shook his head; he didn’t have it in him to stay mad at her. She was trying to help, after all, and it’s not like she knew of his haircut.

“A-anyway,” he asked, looking for a change in subject, “what brings you to this bus stop? I-I thought you lived in Inkopolis.”

“Oh, that I dooo,” she replied, “but I hear there’s some goooood stargazing out by Bulrush Lake!”

“Ah,” he nodded. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, and you know it’ll be a sight to be-holdwhile the power’s still out! Goootta count my lucky stars!”

“I… I guess…”

“Besides, I need the ref-er-ence for my next piece. My next painting will change the world of art, buh-leave you me!”

“I-I’m sure it will,” Cull said, nodding slowly. “I’d l-like to see it s-sometime, if that’s okay...”

“Of course it is!” Flage beamed. “I would looove a fellow artiste to look at my work!”

“Oh, I’m n-no a-artiste,” Cull said, laughing nervously. “I-I just l-like drawing…”

“C’mon now!” Flage said, lightly patting Cull’s arm. “I’ve seen your graffi-tee, and pop art has a place in the art world!”

Cull’s beanie was almost entirely over his eyes at this point. Enough green ink rushed to his face to make him look sick.

“Y-you saw my stuff…?”

“Pret-ty easy to recognize,” Flage beamed, adjusting her glasses. “I saw your ta-ttoo, remember? You’re always draaawing within it, and you do great stuff!”

It was a horrible time for Cull to realize he left his gloves back at the Outpost. His no-doubt melted doodles were on full display right now, and he was sure the actual tattoo wasn’t looking as clean as it should have.

“I… I think I f-forgot something,” Cull managed, standing up to leave. The Outpost wasn’t sounding so bad right now. Not even Flage’s oddly soothing melodic voice was enough to numb his panic. “I gotta… I gotta go.”

“Was it something I said?” Flage asked, looking up.

He just wished he could ask her to stop patronizing him; who just gave underserved compliments out of nowhere? As it was, though, he didn’t have the nerve, and simply shook his head before heading back to the Outpost.

Once he was a safe distance from being seen by anyone, he stopped worrying about that general shame and finally noticed that unlike last night, some of the streetlights were on. Even as he stayed in the alleyways behind Inkopolis Square, he could see light trying to reach him from the main plaza. He looked over, and could see an Inkling in a gas mask and flippers spray painting the wall of the arcade, easily seeing his duck-based piece.

Cull cringed. He recognized that style; this was the guy who was always one-upping his own pieces whenever he made something he was proud of. To be fair, Cull had taken to doing the same thing, placing his high-effort pop art next to this guy’s detailed paintings, but still.

Anyway, it was getting really late, and if he had bones, they’d be aching from the long day. He quietly continued over to the manhole, and ducked into the Outpost.

He saw Marie sleeping on the couch, humming tunelessly as she snored. Quietly, he crept forward, looking for a different place to sleep, preferably a more private one. He saw his gloves lying on that coffee table, and snatched them up quickly.

As he did so, his foot bumped against something. He looked town to find a handle to a trapdoor. Curious, he gently moved the coffee table aside and lifted the door to find at least fifty plush Zapfish staring at him. It was a bit weird, but Cull could only yawn in response, not being able to question anything anymore. He clambered in, and appreciated how soft the pile was as he slowly closed the door again, listening to Marie’s humming as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Marie’s eyes slowly fluttered open, then squinted under the noonday sun. Slowly, she got up, and saw an orange grill-looking thing right in front of her, with Sheldon messing with some wires on a side panel. He seemed to be having some difficulty, though, as Marie could hear some violent banging, and he looked increasingly concerned, practically burying himself into unknowable machinery.

“Tech issues?” she yawned, sitting upright.

“Oh, don’t get me started,” Sheldon said, in a tone that made Marie wish she didn’t. “I checked everythingand there’s still that noise! The pistons are well-lubricated, the automated scan is perfectly calibrated, the motor is fresh off the assembly line—”

“Right, right,” Marie nodded, “you don’t know where it’s coming from. Anything I can do?”

“I… I don’t know,” Sheldon admitted. Marie could see in his goggles as he turned to her that he’d been at this for some time; his eyes were turning pink.

“Here, why don’t you sit down for a bit? You might need less time doing, more time thinking, y’know.”

“But what about what you said—”

“Nevermind that,” Marie said. “You gotta rest. Besides, that thing about inking and thinking…. That’s for squids of action. You don’t even ink, so don’t sweat it!”

“Um, okay,” Sheldon nodded, that spiel taking far more energy than it should have. He walked up and sat at the end of the couch, still having the diligence to close the panel beforehand. He couldn’t even flinch as the Enhancifier continued to bang and make odd wailing noises. Marie, however, wasn’t about to have it while she waited for Agent 4 to come back.

“So how do you turn this thing off?” she asked, standing up to look at the machine.

“That’s the thing,” Sheldon sighed, “it hasn’t been on for two hours! I’ve never seen something like this before, I tell ya…”

Marie hummed. A machine making those noises when off? She was no tech geek, but that sounded weird to her.

She leaned closer, listening to the noises. Now that things were a lot quieter, she realized the noises were coming from belowthe Enhancifier. With a couple of false starts and a lot of grunting, she moved it aside, and was now standing on the trapdoor Sheldon had covered.

Without the giant hunk of metal over the door, it was far easier to make out a familiar panicked voice. Marie wasted no time in stepping aside, and the door burst open. Cull popped out, gasping like his life depended on it.

“Oh Cod, I’m so sorry,” Sheldon said, running over to him. “I don’t know how I didn’t see the door there… I legitimately thought it was an issue with the Enhancifier, and…”

“I…it’s okay,” Cull said, after a moment. “I’m s-sure you didn’t h-hear me…”

“What were you even doing down there?” Marie asked, gently lifting him up onto the proper floor.

“R-ride home wasn’t working out,” Cull said, eyes glued to the floor. “I was… just gonna sleep h-here for one night, s-saw your thing of plushies, and…yeah.”

“I thought you had moved that table to give me space to work,” Sheldon said. “If I’d known he was in there, I wouldn’t have…”

“N-no, it was me. I just… I’m sorry…”

“Here,” Marie finally said, gently pulling Cull aside, “Why don’t you take a break, and then you and Sheldon can move this thing somewhere that makes sense, like… that corner over there. In the meantime, I’m getting myself something to drink. You guys want anything?”

Cull was suddenly aware of how hoarse he was, and nodded.

“C-could use some water.”

“That triage took its toll,” Sheldon admitted, “and I think I need a picker-upper. You got any Seafoam in that shed?”

“Sorry,” Marie said, silently wondering how much he had on a regular basis, “but I got a coffee maker and a few mixes.”

“That’s alright, then. I’ll get it in a bit.”

“That’s fine,” Marie nodded, “but don’t mess with it, okay? It’s Cal…”

Her face fell somewhat, before she coughed and turned to the shed.

“…It’s not mine. So don’t go tinkering with it.”

It was an awkward wait while Marie was heating up tea for herself. Cull had some ice water and had more interest in half-melted ice cubes than any Inkling Sheldon had ever seen.

After what felt like forever, Cull finally looked up, at least in Sheldon’s general direction.

“Um… you s-say this thing can upgrade my Splattershot?”

“Not just that,” Sheldon said, perking up. “It can get you the hottest new kinds of explosives, and even help you conserve your ink through a process I like to call ‘The Hibernation Effect’. Through a careful, multi-layered tubing system, we can safely extract less ink for the same shot, and even make the refilling process more comfortable than ever…”

Sheldon’s more detailed technical explanations started to go into one ear and out the other, but Cull was more interested than ever in the Enhancifier. He got up while Sheldon was still pouring an endless stream of info out of his mouth, and looked to see how this thing worked.

Thankfully, there was already a screen ready, with icons not only representing his Splattershot and Splat Bombs, but also, as Sheldon said, his ink tank, as well as other weapons he had seen on TV sometimes. There were even some of the newer ones, like the umbrella-looking one and the Dualies.

Below each icon, he saw estimates of the materials needed – so many Power Eggs to keep the battery going, and so many kilograms of Sardinium. He’d have to ask where the stuff he found was stored once Marie came back out.

“Cool, right?” Sheldon said, stepping up next to Cull. “Here, I got a bit of Sardinium and a pack of Power Eggs for testing right here. Just pick something and we can watch the magic happen! I’ll even let you get an exclusive sneak peek of how it does it!”

“Oh, um, okay.”

He took a second to look over the choices. Another kind of bomb seemed nice – that homing one was looking tempting. Then again, the machine was promising a faster firing rate and some better accuracy if he went with the Splattershot…

“Ooh, why don’t I show ya the Hibernation Effect?” Sheldon piped up excitedly. “I bet you’ll want more ink in that tank, yeah? Even your Splat Bombs’ll take less fuel to get the same kick!”

“Um…s-sure,” Cull nodded.

It wasn’t his first choice, since he was hoping to not have to shoot as much, but maybe it would help with his no-doubt abysmal shooting. After all, if he was filling the air with ink for longer, he’d be missing less, right? And, yeah, Sheldon probably knew what he needed better than he did; why else would he be so eager to decide for Cull?

While Cull tentatively tapped that upgrade, Sheldon had, in the blink of an eye, fetched the ink tank in question. With a couple of quick taps on a side panel, the orange lid opened to reveal protective glass, allowing Cull a full view of the machinery inside. Lights came on, and some robotic arms whirred to life to wait over a moving conveyor belt. Sheldon had inserted the glass capsule into a door on the side. It was soon drawn to the middle of all the machinery, and Cull was prompted to insert the materials needed. He flinched as a slot jumped out in front of him.

Sheldon, being more ready, was quick to pour a bag of Power Eggs and a couple bricks of Sardinium into it. Power Eggs fell into miniature battery packs, while the Sardinium was melted and converted to a variety of parts. Almost immediately, the arms got to work, disconnecting the tubes and prying the lid off. Cull found it neat to watch, even if he didn’t understand any of what was going on. Sparks flew, wires were added, and even the glass was polished inside and out.

Only about a minute passed before the ink tank was rolled back out the way it came in, landing safely on a tray.

Sheldon watched in anticipation as Cull gingerly picked it up, looking at the shiny new lid and siphon hoses.

“Looks nice,” Marie said from behind, nearly making Cull drop his new tool. “Surprised you went with the ink tank, though.”

“Sh-Sheldon said to get this one…”

“The guy knows his stuff,” Marie said, “but you gotta find what works for you, okay? I know you will.”

Cull nodded.

“Anyway, get yourself suited up, and we can see how that ink-saving whatchamacallit works in action. I bet it’ll still help.”

Marie turned to Sheldon.

“We’ve been keeping the stuff Agent 4 has found in the cupboard, if you wanna go and get paid back.”

Sheldon saluted, walking in and getting the items he used before lifting the manhole cover and disappearing.

“Didn’t even get his coffee,” Marie sighed, shaking her head.

***

“Hey, wait!” Sheldon called out, taking both Marie and Cull by surprise over the radio. “You might wanna try out something different here! I can send you a Roller, and we can see if it works out better for you. Plus, you know, these weapons need a good ol’ field testing…”

“Erm,” Cull said, looking at his Splattershot, “I-I’m kinda already here…”

“Yeah, we’d have to recall Agent 4 if we wanted to—”

“No, no, I can also test my newest delivery system! For the past two years, I’ve gotten a hold of some old tech from my gramps, and found a way to get a remote drone and all its electronics through these grates, and even greatly extended the signal through careful use of the latest—”

“You think you can send it down to him?” Marie asked. “Sure; try the first tower on the left once you get to Suction-Cup lookout. You think your whatchamacallit can fly that far?”

“Well, the battery kinda had to be skimped on to get it to work, but I could drive there! Can you wait a few, Agent 4?”

“I… I guess…?”

“Great! I’ll let you know when I’m there! Try to hang on until then, okay?”

“…Sure…?”

***

The spawner was surprisingly comfortable to sit on, considering it was a large metal plate with ink swirling below glass. Still, it gave Agent 4 a nice place to relax as he looked around the smoggy area. It wasn’t much to look at, apparently being an industrial area with floating steel platforms and a greenish tint to the air. In the distance, there were hanging orange lights to punctuate the gloomy area. The air smelled of motor oil and something like ink blended with iron. Interestingly, there were some yellow traffic signs laid on the right that showed squid icons, and those looked pretty new.

He didn’t have much time to think about that, however, as a low buzzing noise turned his attention upwards. A black and yellow drone descended, carrying a large case. Cull’s gaze followed it as it lowered to eye level and started orbiting him.

“Go ahead and swap your Splattershot out for this bad boy,” Sheldon said. “See how you like it!”

Cull pulled the case off the drone and opened it, revealing an intricately folded lump of yellow plastic and steel. He yelped as, almost immediately, the contraption sprung to life, leaping out towards him as he jumped back, dropping his gun. Within half a second, the machine had stopped, revealing itself to be a massive Roller, not too different from the ones Cull saw in commercials pretty frequently.

“Real beauty, isn’t she?” Sheldon said. “Go ahead and give ‘er a whirl! But first… please put that poor Splattershot in that case. I don’t want it getting scratched…”

Cull nodded, picking his gun up and putting it back into the same case the Roller burst out of. Sending the drone on its way, he turned to his new weapon, testing the handle. Yup, the thing was almost as heavy as it looked, but he was used to paint rollers anyway; he was constantly re-painting the walls at home, after all.

He started to push his Roller forward, and he was astonished at how smoothly his ink coated the floor as he went. He was used to having a rough time, but moving forward with this monstrosity was a breeze!

Well, at least for the first fifteen or so seconds. When he was out of ink, the sheer weight of this thing slowed him to a crawl. Apparently, all that smoothness was just his ink; the mix of metal and foam was not doing his advance after the first Launchpad any favors.

“You gotta lift that up for a bit,” Marie said. “Remember, you only have so much ink, even with that enhanced tank.”

“Um… okay…”

Surprisingly, it was pretty easy to lift the Roller. The challenge was balancing with it; everything above the handle was so massive he found himself tilting every which way. He stumbled around, trying to find some kind of way to keep his weapon upright.

What was worse, he knew Agent 2 and Sheldon were watching this performance, probably snickering to themselves about it.

“Keep it close to your chest,” Marie said, without a hint of humor in her voice, somehow making it worse. “Bend your knees a lil’, keep the Roller straight up… yeah, like that!”

Cull somehow felt sillier now that he had something like the right posture, but at least he could stand, and he could feel his ink tank refilling.

“Just watch for the Rolinium around here!” Sheldon piped up. “I think this is a processing plant for the stuff…”

Up ahead, there was a giant bundle of what looked like Roller sleeves, and an Octotrooper waiting on some kind of large, automated brush. Cull was about to try to rush forward, balance be clammed, but both voices shouting for him to stop landed him right in front of the bundle.

“You can activate that Rolinium with your own,” Sheldon pointed out. “It’ll fly right ahead into the bad guys!”

“Probably a better way of getting a feel for the thing, too,” Marie added. “Don’t have to get up to that Octoslob with a weapon you’re not used to this time.”

Agent 4 nodded, shifting his grip a bit as he looked at the Rolinium. If he could launch this like Sheldon said, he’d have to time it. He was just glad the Octotrooper hadn’t noticed him; he was sure the guy would have had the same idea and just launch the Roller sleeves at him.

He had to slam his weapon down as soon as he tried to lean it forward. A violent splash of ink hit the Rolinium before he could run into it, and it immediately accelerated, barreling right into the unsuspecting Octatrian.

“Nice one!”

Cull knew he didn’t deserve that praise, so he just nodded and literally pressed forward with the Roller.

[tihemme]

The Summer My Brilliant Mother Blew Her Own Mind - Part 1

August whatever, the last batch of students graduated Friday, and I’m broke. I’ve hunkered down for a two-week forced vacation, throughout which I intend to stave off next year’s inevitable financial crisis by drafting yet another television series proposal - but then my mother calls. “What the hell is going on?” And now I’m pissed at my brother. I told him yesterday over the phone that I’d had tests, and had failed them, that I needed to redraft my will. Would he be my executor? And no, I wasn’t sure how sick, I wouldn’t know for a few months, and no, I wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon, but as is, my ex-fiance from before my ex-husband would inherit everything, including an old set of vinyl I gave up in my 30s, and a poster collection I left in storage fourteen moves ago. And maybe my youngest daughter, God help him. “Don’t tell Mum or Dad.” “I won’t. But you should.” “I will.” “It’ll be worse if you don’t.” “I know.” “So, when?” “When there’s something to tell, T; I don’t want to worry them.” “I’m going to kill him.” “Kill who?” “T. I told him not to worry you.” “About what?”

Dammit!  This is my mother. She always does this. 

“T didn’t say anything?” “I haven’t talked to your brother in weeks.” Of course she hasn’t. “So, spill it. What’s wrong?”

Trapped, I tell her. Struggling to keep my shit together, I pace, voice wavering, confused dog at my heels, getting underfoot. I tell her all about it, and how I need her not to worry. And of course, I’m terrified, and she’s not an idiot. Hearing my mother’s voice, I fall to fucking pieces, and she takes over. As she rationalizes about cysts and lumps and all this progress that’s been made in the field of breast cancer research, I bite hard into my knuckles to stifle violent, body-wracking sobs.

“This is ridiculous. You need to be here,” she says. “You need to take a break, and be here.”

I have no one else. This bothers her.  My best friends are all colleagues. I doubt I register in the top 20 of any of their friends lists, but this is of no concern to any of us. I love them anyway. To keep things simple, I call them my “best-friend/colleagues.” The slash here acts as a kind of connective tissue; it connects the two concepts for me, while creating a safe barrier for them - like a tissue blocking snot. With it, they can keep calling me “colleague” while I call them “best friends,” and we each know who we’re talking about in the relative safety of our social-slash-work environment. 

I can shoot the shit with the best of them (which is all of them) about anything, but this. I can’t tell any of them about this. 

One of my best-friend/colleagues lost his wife two years ago, and cannot escape the vortex of grief. I worry for him every day, especially on the anniversary of her passing, which he marks monthly. I did the same when I lost my first true love at 20, followed weeks later by our premature stillborn baby. Twenty-six years on, I still feel that ache, so I think maybe I almost understand. He gets so sad so easily, and I’m honoured he trusts us so openly with his pain, but it’s also worrisome. Sometimes I wonder how he grieves at home, and it’s an unbearable thought. If this best friend found out his colleague was sick with the same thing that robbed him of his wife, I think he might be triggered. I suspect he’d need to insulate, and isolate, and so keep his distance, and that’s also unbearable to imagine. 

Also, the one time I offered to do something with him socially - I think it was to see a film - he delicately suggested I look into dating apps. So no, I will not be telling him. 

My absolute best-best-friend/colleague doesn’t exactly know he’s my best-best friend, but I don’t mind. He’s always appreciated my weird sense of humour, and doesn’t seem bothered when we happen to be scheduled to work on the same days. When we get the chance, we talk, a lot - well, I do, and he responds - but there’s an awful lot I don’t tell him. Like how he’s the only non-relative I’m leaving anything to in my redrafted will. Or how much I look forward to seeing him each week, and that when I don’t, it occurs to me to miss him. But because I’m still not convinced he hasn’t added me to his Restricted list on Facebook, I worry that if he did know either of these things, he’d shut me down completely, and without saying a word. Like, colleague/friendly ghost me. Or recommend I check out dating apps, too. 

So no damn way am I telling him about my boob. 

My female best-friend/colleagues are all my age or slightly older, and each of us is going through our own shit right now. I could tell them, I guess, but I don’t. You see, this mid-life gynoshittery is a contest none of us wants to participate in, let alone win. Don’t get me wrong, menopause and endometriosis and the national average pay gap are all over the staff room table when it’s all women present, but not breasts.

If you knew less about me, perhaps you’d suggest I should have more friends, like maybe outside work. 

I’ve tried. 

I used to ref roller derby. So long as you’re concussion-and-fracture free, a tighter community is hard to find. Before that, I was in the army. Those relationships ended not much differently than derby’s did, if far more violently.

In the intervening years, I had a husband. He didn’t approve of many of my friends, unless they were our friends - by which I mean, his friends - due to his belief that regardless of the age, marital status or gender of any of my own, I had to be sleeping with them. So, to save us all the embarrassment of his persistent public confrontations on the matter, I opted out of having any friends. For twenty years.

So anyway, yeah - my colleague/friends really are all I have. 

There is no one else.

Mum’s text reads, “You’br stil craming out, right?” I’ve been thinking about it, for sure, and I miss her, but I’m not sure I can justify it. I have a massive application deadline for the end of the month. Plus, these next two weeks off aren’t exactly voluntary. I’m not getting paid, and money’s tighter than it’s been in a couple of years. And she’s in bloody Saskatchewan. 

“There’r b rst beef anf Yorkshire pddinh.” 

Okay, just to be clear, no one makes gluten free Yorkshire pudding quite like my stepfather does. Think bannock in a gravy bowl. And I can tell, this last push is from him.

“Oh, well, okay then - I’ll be there Wednesday,” I joke back, still not committed. It’s Sunday morning. “Ok, we br reedy.”

My mother is a PhD. She taught upper-level anthropology courses for twenty years. So she takes proofreading very, very seriously, even with texts. But since her house almost completely burned down this past March, I’ve noticed she’s been letting things slide. And I mean, a lot.

I turn to my youngest, who’s bitched all summer about us not camping, not really taking a holiday, no promised one-on-one time without siblings and bickering. 

“Wanna go see Nan?” “What-? When?” “If we pack now, we can leave first thing. Camp a couple of nights on the way, and get there for Wednesday.” 

It’s fire season - the worst one yet - and I’m still not feeling well, so I clarify that by “camp,” I mean “sleep in the van and eat take out along the way.” My daughter’s kind of camping, but this isn’t exactly fair notice. 

“There’ll be Yorkshire pudding.”

Enough said. We start packing in the late afternoon, and I’m in the middle of drawing up a list of documents I’ll need to pull out of my ass the second I get back to hit that deadline, plus a list of groceries to cut costs for meals for the trip, when I stop suddenly, hit by a strange wave of anxiety. I look at my daughter. 

“Hey. Wanna leave tonight?”

Now I’m freaking myself out. My perfectly rational fear of animals darting out onto highways after dark means I have never, ever left for a multi-day drive any later than noon on the first day. So I don’t understand it. But I don’t want to argue with it. I need to leave now, and for once, my daughter shares my sense of urgency. 

We’re on the road within the hour, listing off all the shit we’ll need to grab along the way, calling the bank to add up the balances - we seriously can’t afford this right now, it’s ridiculous - realizing this is a mistake, and knowing, somehow, that it’s not. 

By the time we hit Merritt, the sun’s down. We pit stop at a gas station in Kamloops, and run into a motorcyclist who’s run into a deer. I text my best-best friend to tell him. His ex rides a bike, and sideswiped a moose last week - only she wasn’t on her bike at the time, but in a compact car that is now slightly more compact, but thankfully not bent in half like this biker was, or his bike. 

As soon as I hit Send, I wonder vaguely if my random texts outside work might annoy my bbf/c, and vow to not bother him anymore.

Pulling into Salmon Arm, we see the aftermath of another fresh kill. Whatever it is is large and hairy, and splayed out in the road in many more pieces than nature intended. It’s 11 PM, and I decide to stop for the night at nearby Yard Creek. The kid and I look up through the cracked windscreen at stars we haven’t seen since last year, and zzzzfoooph, spot a meteor. Briefly entertained, we crawl into the back of the motorized tent, and are asleep within moments. 

I wake at 6:30 to the lilt of morning birdsong, and a familiar dull throbbing pain deep in my left breast. 

The kid wants to sleep in, but I’m getting restless, so fire up the old Dutch oven. She chases me all the way from the van to the outhouse. Now both wide awake, we pee, brush our teeth, and go.

We stop for breakfast at Denny’s in Revelstoke, almost too tired to care about cross-contamination. My daughter orders her usual, and our waitress - trying to be helpful - recommends something from the 55+ menu for me. 

Do I really look so much older than I feel? 

My daughter assures me the waitress is just saving us money. Build-your-own breakfasts add up fast, and this way, it’s half the price. Fine. Whatever. I pick at my stingy eggs and bacon with wheat-free toast, and call Mum to tell her where we are. 

“What’s your ETA, then?” I have no idea. “8:30,” I say. “Will you push through, or camp again?” I just said... “Push through,” I answer. “Call me when you get to the junction at Maple Creek,” she says, “so Grrpa can put the pizza on.”

Grrpa is my stepdad. 

We’re on the road again by 7:45, but it feels later. Golden, Banff, Calgary for a pee break and to gas up. Naturally, there’s a BC fruit stand in the parking lot.  “Text Nan and tell her 7:30.” Brooks, Medicine Hat, the last exit to Drumheller, the needle locked on 130 all the way. I’ve been highway driving for almost ever, and rarely exceed 120.  “Text Nan and tell her 6:30.” We enter Saskatchewan, and I realize that even with the time change, we’ll be there by 5:30 at the latest.

Mum waits until the exact moment we blast through the Maple Creek junction to pull her next magic trick. 

“Text Nan and tell her -” The phone rings. 

“Where are you now?” “Jesus, Mother, are you fucking psychic?” 

It’s complete rhetoric. I expect her to say, “Well, we did just put the pizza on,” or “So, while you’re in Maple Creek,” or “Welcome to Saskatchewan; what’d you do, FLY?”

Except -  “… What?” 

She doesn’t get it. 

“Where are you?”

My daughter and I share a look. Something’s wrong. 

“We’re blas - just driving past Maple Creek now. We’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll tell Denis. We’re having pizza. Is that okay?” Denis is my stepdad, but I don’t call him that. I’ve never called him that. He’s Grrpa, even to me. 

“Okay.”

Something’s really wrong.

“See you soon.” She hangs up, and my daughter and I don’t say a word as I edge over 140. I can’t say what it is, but it’s urgent, and horrid and heavy and late. For what, I don’t know. But it’s all I can think. We’re late, we’re so late. We’re too late. 

We’re too late.