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2ugars · 5 years

Text

ੈ♡˳ death by ramen , lty

pairing: best friend!taeyong who’s tired of bratty!fem reader

genre: fluff. that’s it.

words: 2.1k

a / n : cross-posted as a haikyuu au fic on ao3, linked here. it’s my account, don’t worry. i’ve just revamped this version (though not by much) to most appropriately fit to taeyong’s character more.

also, happy late birthday to our leader!!! :D

---

“[Name], this entire visit just confirms how utterly hopeless you are when it comes to making decisions,” the boy mutters under his breath, his eyes briefly closing as he sighs in exasperation.

You’ve been standing in the seventh aisle selling ramen for what seemed like hours and Taeyong is rather close to throwing you over his shoulder and walking straight out of the grocery store (whether it be with or without food, he doesn’t exactly care anymore, he just wants this to be over and done with).

“I am not indecisive if that’s what you’re trying to say!” You huff, arms crossing indignantly. “I’m just taking my time to weigh out the pros and cons of buying six bundles of instant ramen. Have a little faith in me, you jerk. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“Yeah, your best friend, not your freakin’ guardian,” he pokes a forefinger to the space between your eyebrows, ignoring your whines of protest when he pushes your head back. “And no one in their right mind would buy six bundles of ramen. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

You duck away from him, turning your attention to the other products on the shelves. “Death by ramen doesn’t sound too bad if you think about it...”

“No.”

You ignore him. You then toss two Exclusive 24-Packet Ramen bundles into the shopping cart before moving up the aisle, and Taeyong automatically returns it to its location, yawning as he does so.

“You can’t say no to death, Taeyong,” you lift a cup of noodles, turning it over in your hands as you reads the ingredients in hangul. “It’s inevitable, and better you accept it than try to dodge it—you said so yourself.”

His eye twitches. “[Name]–”

“Hey, come to think of it, didn’t you say that during our final exams? You got a sixty-three in one of them, isn’t that right? I mean, I guess it makes sense; you’ve always been horrible at math,” you reminisce innocently, placing the noodles back to where it had come from.

Taeyong presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, throwing his head back as he makes a noise of distress, startling nearby customers. “[Name], you’re missing the point!”

The girl making him want to gouge his eyes out (you) stares at him indifferently for a few beats. When he drags his palms down to fully cover his face, he peeks between the gaps of his fingers just in time to see the corner of your lip twitch up into an amused smile.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

You lift a shoulder in a cool shrug, dismissing him, and skip down the aisle. Taeyong trails after you, a little defeated, but he quickly recovers after watching you frolic to and fro.

“What else do we need, hubby?”

Taeyong rolls his eyes at the mocking nickname (he doesn’t deny it, though, because he supposes your relationship is somewhat similar to an old married couple, anyways). He slips his phone out of his pocket and checks his notes application, going over the list of items the both of you are required to purchase in order for you and your family to survive the week ahead.

“Shampoo, a small can of oats, and three cartons of milk,” he says, pausing to stream further down. “Also, the, uh, Waterfall of Bloody Hell is due in a few days, so uh, you might wanna get pads. I got you two tubs of ice cream already, and I’m pretty sure they’re in your freezer.”

“How reliable of you, Tyongie,” she quips, “you’re so good to me!”

He grunts in response, a faint blush tinging his cheeks red.

The moment the both of you step foot into the dairy section of the grocery store, you’re already scrutinizing the different varieties of ice cream in the chilled compartments. Taeyong lingers by, one hand snug in the front pocket of his hoodie as he leans against the shopping cart’s handle, scrolling aimlessly through his phone’s photo gallery of memes. You surface from the freezer, bits of ice flakes now speckling the front of your pink top. You wave a vanilla cone in his face and he cranes his neck, all the while staring at his phone, to avoid being hit.

“Could you buy this for me?”

He reacts with a scowl but does not turn his gaze to you, preoccupied with his phone. “[Name], I literally just told you that I bought you two tubs, and here you are, nearly stabbing me in the eye with the end of a co– oh my gosh, hold it properly, will you?!” He grabs hold of your wrist, ceasing your actions before readjusting your grip of the frozen dessert.

You giggle, your bell-like laughter ringing in the otherwise dreary atmosphere of the supermarket. Taeyong’s dirty look softens at the sound and is soon replaced with an absentmindedly endeared expression. He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at you until you gently pull away from him, unperturbed by his open ogling.

He blinks. His cheeks flare a vibrant red and he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring your view of his blushing face.

“I take your angsty demeanor as a ‘no’, then,” you say with a snort, plucking the device from the singer’s hands. You toss the cone back into its compartment, sliding the glass lid closed. “You’re crankier than usual, Taeyong. One might even say you’re the one who’s bleeding.”

“Nah. You’re just a lot more intolerable today.”

“Rude.”

You walk over to the chilled shelves stocked with milk cartons while skimming through the list. Now with three cartons cradled in your arms, you waddle over to where Taeyong sulks and delicately line them inside.

The boy threads his fingers through his hair, smoothing out the black locks in an attempt to fix his disheveled appearance. “Are we done here?”

“Yup!” You beam up at him and he affectionately tugs on a strand of your hair as you start walking. “Now to get the oats...hmm, do I want instant or traditional, decisions, decisions… Hey, Tae–”

“Get traditional,” he says without skipping a beat, rolling the cart next to you. He pauses to listen to your hum of response turn into a nonsensical tune, a gentle smile gracing his features, then adds, “it’s a lot healthier.”

---

Fifteen minutes later, you receive a text from your mother containing another list of groceries you are tasked to purchase. Taeyong wants to throw himself in one of the fish tanks near the meat section at the news, and you fortunately prevent him from doing so...before rationalizing that he shouldn’t do it without video evidence (Taeyong, in the end, is the one to drag you away from the fish tanks).

You now stand back to where you started, in the ramen aisle, the shopping cart filled to the brim with fresh produce, food, snacks, and toiletries. As you contemplate the purchase of your ramen once more, Taeyong contemplates life in the background.

Your lips part to question Taeyong about whether to buy the twelve-pack or the six-pack bundle, but you’re interrupted by the sound of giddy chortles down the aisle. You turns your head to acknowledge the noise and are greeted with the sight of a small group of girls your age. To your relief, they do not pay much detail to you. To your amusement, their undivided attention is to your best friend idly standing next to you.

He’s ridiculously attractive. Do you think his hair is natural? Do you think the girl near him is his girlfriend? He’s so cute. Go talk to him. No, you go talk to him!

It makes sense, you suppose, for the male, as prickly and as edgy as he may be, is undeniably handsome in the all-black attire he’s sporting. The lone piercing that’s located at his left helix glints in the supermarket’s lighting, further supporting what the girls are likely discussing in their circle: that this boy standing in the ramen aisle is a typical bad boy.

You chew on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing at that ridiculous assumption. Lee Taeyong is anything but. A thought crosses your mind as your eyes follow the defined line of his jaw, and you can’t help it. You smile smugly.

What a perfect opportunity to be petty and show them that he's taken reserved.

And who are you to leave your audience un-entertained?

Masking your features with an air of indifference, you stand before him. His eyes are glazed over as he stares off into nothing and you find yourself shaking your head in fond exasperation before you press your fingertip to the tip of his nose, pushing upwards to make him look like a little pig. He pulls his face away, grimacing in annoyance at the disruption called [Name] in front of him.

“What.”

You don’t say anything and instead, plop yourself face-first into his chest. He makes a small noise of surprise at the sudden weight against his front, his balance wavering for a split second before he rights himself. He chuckles after a moment or two, the sound resonating throughout his chest.

You are startled when your heart warms.

“You’re so needy,” he remarks, childish mirth coloring his tone of voice. “Did you get stuck with what flavor you wanted? Do you need help? I honestly think eating ramen is unhealthy...I heard somewhere that instant ramen is made of cement. That’s horrible for your digestive system.”

You laugh at his constant fretting. You then feel something laying on your head, and after a time of pondering as to what it is, you finalize with the theory that it is his palm. Your hypothesis, however, is debunked when you feel the familiar movement of Taeyong carding his fingers through your hair—using both of his hands.

To satisfy your curiosity, you shift your head to look up, only to be met with the dark eyes of your best friend.

He had been resting his cheek on top of your head in place of his hand.

They’re cute together, huh?

Your eye twitches.

Taeyong lets one hand cup your cheeks and squishes them together to mimic a fish. When you attempt to force yourself away from his tight grasp, he only makes a similar face down at you, keeping a steady yet gentle hold on you.

“Oi, smile more. You’ll get frown lines.”

“Daemyong, I mill mot hethitate to boite yew might mow.”

She’s definitely his girlfriend. Aw, that’s too bad! I’m not that mad, really – just look at them! They look adorable together.

He laughs, releasing you. You roll your eyes, having had enough of the ‘game’ that you probably shouldn’t have started in the first place (because now, your heart’s palpitating, what the frick frack paddy whack does your organ think it’s doing), and turn your back to him, recommencing in deciding what ramen to buy.

The girls have left, not disappointed at all.

Behind you, Taeyong sighs, but there is a half-smile on his face. He reaches over and drapes his arms on either side of your shoulders, forefinger pointing at what looked like the healthiest ramen in the aisle. His chin lays atop the center of your head, and though you express an irked attitude to his apparently obnoxious gesture, you’re trying your hardest not to smile.

“We’re never going to get out of this building, are we?” Taeyong asks five minutes later, not having moved from his position. He sounds so wistful that you let out a cackle.

“I don’t think so,” you admit. You lean back against him, causing the boy to reposition his head to your shoulder while you tucks your head into the crook of his neck.

“Tell you what,” he says, “if we leave right now, I’ll treat you to that ice cream parlor everyone’s freaking out over.”

“The really cute one with the cat foam lattes and ice cream bouquet cones?”

“Yeah. That.”

You pause to think it over then shake your head when you makes up your mind. “It’s alright. I have a better idea.”

---

( Turns out said ’better idea’ was just you hauling home six bags of groceries and, to Taeyong’s distaste, purchasing a bundle of Exclusive 24-Packet Ramen.

“When you turn into a cement statue,” Taeyong says bitterly as he carries four bags because freakin’ heck, [Name], don’t you know that two trips back and forth just isn’t worth it? “I will gladly keep you in the dorms as a lesson for the Dreamies.”

“And I will accept it. I will accept any form of death.”

“[Name]—” A tired sigh. “[Name], you’re so stupid, that’s not what I meant.” )

#taeyong imagines #taeyong fic #taeyong scenario #lee taeyong #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fic #nct au #nct 127 #sfw #kie writes

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iseulcwu · 4 years

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TASK 1-1 : THE MISSING FILES

BASICS

name: kwon iseul ( iseul meaning “dew” in korean )

dob: july 28th, 1999

nicknames: seul

western zodiac sign: LEO SUN ( there's an unmistakably regal air to solar leos. these are dignified — even noble — folk. leos have a reputation for being conceited, ), CAPRICORN MOON ( because they generally keep their emotions under check, moon in capricorn people come across as competent people. however turbulent their emotions may be under the surface, lunar capricorns keep cool-headed--and they come across as steady and reliable people ) and LEO RISING ( leo rising people cannot help but be noticed. they radiate a special energy and magnetism that gets others' attention. sometimes it's due to a regal manner that simply demands interest from others )!!

lunar zodiac sign: rabbit ( quiet, elegant, kind, responsible...pfft )

blood type: ab+ ( these people are complicated and can have dual personalities like they can be shy like A type as well as outgoing like B type. they try to keep their true personalities from strangers, thereby making most believe that they are a mixed personality. it is hard to decode these people until you know them thoroughly )

eyesight: nearsighted, but predominantly wears contacts, glasses are reserved to the comfort of her dorm room — her prescription is - 2.50 L and - 2.00 R.

piercings: both ear loves ( three times ), a helix and forward helix on the left ear, a surface tragus and daith on the right.

tattoos: on her upper arm ( the right one ) she has a few flowers, tied together by rope. these flowers are a gladiolus ( meaning strength ), a wax flower ( for lasting love ) a ranunclus ( for radiant charm ), and a protea ( for courage ). on her left side ( over her ribs ) is her name iseul going down vertically, and horizontally ( one letter from her name coinciding with a letter from each of these ), she has a few lines of words from philosophers, the first being a quote by ralph waldo emerson, which reads “the infinitude of the private man” one by friedrich nietzsche which reads “there are no facts, only interpretations” one by jean-paul sartre that reads “condemned to be free,” and the last line is one from socrates which reads, “i know that i know nothing”.

what type of clothes do they wear: out of uniform, iseul covers herself in color ( if the bright orange hair is any indication; an infraction she refuses to correct ). she likes to experiment with the clothes she wears, melding comfort and art together into a style that is iseul’s and hers alone. silk tops paired with mom jeans or tailored sweats, oversized button-ups, tucked into black skirts. the girl knows how to dress her body and is not afraid of trying things that others may be afraid of.

religion: deist ( belief in a ‘clockmaker god’ — that is to say, iseul believes there is a higher power, but is unsure if this higher power has a form )

allergies: pollen and cashews

PERSONALITY

are they introverted or extroverted? an ambivert — iseul is something of a chameleon, and shines in the company of others, but she doesn’t mind being alone, and sometimes she just needs to get away from others. there are so many fake people who still surround her, and it just gets to be too much.

what are their bad habits? ignoring people whenever she sees the need. it may not be for any reason other than iseul doesn’t feel like talking to you anymore; incessantly tapping her pencil on her desk; if she’s bored ( be it in conversation, or class, or whatever else ) she’ll just open a book and zone out.

what do they like to do in their free time? cultum has a gym ( thank all the gods ) and iseul has been using it for solo baseball practices; she doesn’t play for a team anymore, but she still loves the sport. if she’s not doing that, she studying ( i know, it defeats the purpose of ‘free time’, but she’s a double major ). and if she’s not studying, or reading some book about socrates or hume, then she’s doing other things to pass the time ( if her roommate is gone for a few hours ).

what is their greatest fear? allowing herself to feel once more; it’s a complicated situation, but she has maintained this dull version of her emotions for so long and is scared of the true weight of both happiness and sadness as well as everything in between.

any guilty pleasures? you’d think it were sex, but no. it’s me-days; an empty dorm, a bubble bath, some american jazz and a few candles ( maybe even her trusty buddy ), paired with the cheesiest most romantic movies netflix or hulu have to offer. oh and let’s not forget plushy toys — her bed has about five at the moment

pet peeves: chewing loudly, and people who have no concept of boundaries or personal space ( in reality this may be just about anyone who tries to get a little clo.se to iseul, but she’d rather not ).

what is their favorite song and why? treat me bad, k. will and hwasa — she feels as if the song speaks to her, and the lyrics “please trample on my heart and any small hope so i can stop wanting you,” are very representative of who iseul is as a person.

who would be the first person they’d call if they were in trouble? in theory, it would be seungcheol, the gentler and much older man she had first slept with. the man was dependable, if not much else. in practice...her dad, honestly. even though their relationship is very strained, he is the one man she’d turn to.

EDUCATION

where did they attend before cultum university? inchang high school, one of the oldest private high schools in seoul.

what were after school activities they did back in high school? iseul has been taking violin class since she was very young; on mondays, wednesdays and fridays, she could be found in the music room, practicing for a concerto. tuesdays and thursdays were for basketball practice. in addition, iseul was one of the few students to have an added class before the start of school that focused on college preparation.

what is the most impressive award/merit they received? second place in the isang yun competition for violinists — was critiqued heavily for a perceived reservation in her performance; although it was operationally a perfect performance, there was a lack of emotion and as such the music felt lifeless and robotic.

what is their current favorite class? her philosophy of mind class; the course description is: materialism, rather than solving the problem of mind, consciousness and intentionality, has spawned numerous philosophical perplexities. this course will examine a variety of philosophical problems associated with contemporary models of the mind ( mind/body dualism; mind/brain identity theories; behaviorism; functionalism and artificial intelligence; eliminative naturalism and folk psychology; biological naturalism ). the course will also look at contemporary philosophical accounts of personhood and personal identity, particularly narrative accounts of the self.

aside from their current club, what is another they’d like to join? the violin club if there was one...or some club about debating different philosophies.

what kind of job are they hoping for once they graduate? she would love to go into something along the lines of environmental ethics ( or continue her education ), but it’s most likely that she’ll become the new president/CEO of her father’s company, hence the economics double major and business management minor ( her father told her, she could virtually study anything so long as she also studied what he wanted her to; and this is also a way to keep her busy and from indulging in bad habits ).

name three items that were confiscated from them at the beginning of the school year: her cellphone ( at her father’s request, she is only allowed supervised access to a phone twice a week, and she may only call family or close friends within her age-range ), a limited-edition copy of vladimir nabokov’s the annotated lolita ( this was deemed profanity by the cultum administration ), and finally one of those fill-in books called burn after writing, which comes with a pack of matches stapled to the front ( not that she was going to do so, but any flammable items are frowned upon ). items that were almost confiscated include her laptop ( although she has limited internet access ), a glass water bottle, and a blank journal. items that went unnoticed but would have been confiscated include the vibrator and bottle of lube in her violin case, and a copy of anne rice’s belinda with a faded cover.

FAMILY

do they have any relatives that are alumni? both her paternal aunts ( twins ) are cultum alumna, and it seems that attending the college was able to set them on a path that iseul’s grandparents deemed appropriate.

do they have any siblings? are they close to them? nope, she’s an only child.

what is their role in their family? iseul floats in limbo; she is neither child nor parent...more of an acquaintance to her parents. her father is as fatherly as time allows, but she was mostly cared for by the help; many dinners were had alone, and the house was lacking in life.

#soemi:task #long post so under read more <#3

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itskimtaehyung · 7 years

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Jeon Jungkook Is Dead (1/3)

Jungkook has been acting a little strange lately...

Member: Jungkook

POV: Reader

Genre: Crack, Angst, Mystery, and do I dare call this SciFi?

Word Count: 3,145

Content/Warnings: Non romantic affiliation between Jungkook and reader but there is Jikook relationship. Strong language, mentions of sex.

A/N: written with the help of my soulmate @jeonjiah

Jeon Jungkook has always been a strange one. With his toned, muscular body and contradictory adorable bunny face, his absurd athleticism and ridiculous ability to do anything and everything perfectly, it's a wonder how he's even human.

You’ve watched him grow and change over the last few years, become the man he is today. And that man… That man… Oh boy, where do you start?

When he first came to BigHit, he was so small, so shy. Whenever you did his makeup or helped him get dressed, he would always look straight ahead, never at you, and definitely not in your eyes. You didn’t see this as rudeness. You’ve worked with countless trainees in the past, and knew that having all these people constantly touching you takes some getting used to.

He quickly grew out of his shyness and became more confident (maybe a little too confident) in his looks and his abilities. Within the first year of his debut, he changed so drastically that, looking back, you have a hard time processing that the little, shy boy who came to you nearly six years ago was the same man who is seated before you right now.

Jungkook sits in your makeup chair while you dab foundation on the small scar on his cheek. You wonder why you’re even doing this, since his skin is always completely flawless. But you guess if you didn’t, you’d be out of a job.

“Noona, I’m thinking of changing my earrings,” Jungkook states as you apply concealer over his non existent dark circles.

You sigh. “Jungkook it's only been a few months. You have to wait at least a year for them to heal completely,” you tell him. Jungkook is always overestimating himself, thinking he can do things that don’t seem possible. However, you supposed he has good reason to, since he’s always able to do those impossible things.

“No, I don't,” he insists. “They're perfectly fine right now.” To prove it he flicks his ear a couple of times just below the piercings. You wince, because on any other person, that would have hurt.

“Didn’t your piercer tell you that they heal from the outside in? So even if they look healed, there’s a high chance that they’re not this early on.”

“But Noona I really think they’re ready!”

Again, you sigh. “I don't think you should do it, but you’re an adult and I can't stop you.”

He gives a smug grin as you finish up his makeup and send him off to get changed.

The next day you see Jungkook and lo and behold, he changed his earrings. His helix now sports two little silver rings that fit his ear just right.

The first thing he does when he sees you is walk over to you so you can survey his new jewelry in all its glory. “See, Noona! They’re fine!”

Amazingly they are fine. No swelling or redness or anything whatsoever. Even though it's only been three months. His healing time seemed inhuman. Out of all the people you've known with cartilage piercings, including you, trying to take them out before the suggested healing time of one year caused the piercings to become inflamed and sometimes even infected. But his look as if they’d been healed for years.

How is that possible? Three months! What kind of person could do that? Everyone. Everyone– piercers, piercees, even just random people on the internet– says you have to wait at least a year and here he was totally fine after only three months. This just does not seem possible. This was the first of your suspicions that something was off about Jeon Jungkook.

You kind of just accept this odd feeling and pretty much forget about it after a few weeks. With Bangtan flying all over the world for their tour, doing American promotions, and attending the Billboard Music Awards, you don’t have much time to think about anything but work.

A couple months later, Bangtan are scheduled to do some overseas promotion in Japan. One of the events they will be attending is a baseball game where Jungkook has been chosen to throw the first pitch. “We’re going to have baseball jerseys with your names on them made for the game, but you get to choose the number on the back,” you explain to Jungkook. “What number do you want?” “Hmm…” He gives the question some thought. “Fifty eight,” he declares with a nod. “Fifty eight? Why?”

The other members chose numbers that related to their birthdays or birth years, aside from Hoseok, who chose 7 for all seven members of BTS. But you couldn’t think of any relation between the number 58 and Jungkook.

“Sounds like oppa. Oh. Pal,” he answers sternly, nodding once again.

This fuckin kid I swear to god, you think to yourself. “Why? You hate being called Oppa.” “I changed my mind.”

You’re taken aback by how plain and matter of fact his answer is. “What do you mean you changed your mind?”

“ARMY love calling me Oppa, and I love ARMY, so by transitive property, I now love being called Oppa.”

You don’t know what to say. You have no choice but to put in the order. Thus, two weeks later, Jungkook throws the first pitch at a Japanese baseball game with fucking Oppa on his back.

The morning after the game, one of the other stylists catches up with you while you’re getting your morning coffee at the hotel’s cafe.

“Hey did you hear about Jungkook?” He asks you.

“Hear what? Is he okay? Did he hurt himself yesterday?” He was always pushing his limits when it came to sports and athletics, so it would only be a matter of time before he ended up seriously hurting himself. “I haven’t seen him since before the game.”

“No, he’s not hurt or anything like that.” He grabs a packet of sugar and dumps the contents into his cup.

“Oh. Then what’s up?” You ask, handing him a stir stick.

“You know how he threw the first pitch right?”

“Yeah…”

“Officials said his pitch exceeded speeds of 100 kilometers per hour…”

You take a sip of your coffee. Knowing nothing about sports, you look at him expectantly for an explanation.

“That’s usually only accomplished by experienced pitchers.”

You almost spit out your drink. “What the fuck? That doesn’t sound right? Jungkook just started practicing last week!”

You remember accompanying him to practice that day and watched him pitch a baseball for the first time in years. He was a little rusty. The pitches never landed where he wanted them, but apparently the kid learns fast. Maybe a little too fast...

About a week and a half later, on Bangtan’s fourth anniversary, yet another incident occurs.

There you are, minding your own business, doing Jimin’s makeup when Jungkook walks in with half a kiwi stuffed in his mouth.

“Hmm mmm mmm,” he mumbles.

“What?”

He chews and then swallows. “I said ‘Hey Noona!’” He grins and waves at you.

“Oh hey, Jungkook. How are you today?” You ask distractedly, struggling to get the eyeshadow on Jimin’s eyelid to look how you want it.

“I’m great! Jimin, I brought you something.” Jungkook hands Jimin a bowl full of freshly cut fruit.

“Thanks,” Jimin replies, trying to stay as still as possibly so you don’t accidentally stab him in the eye.

“Noona have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet Jungkook. I’m going to grab something to eat after I finish up Jimin.”

“I ordered a food truck for our fourth anniversary so all of the staff get free lunch today.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Jungkook.” You finish up Jimin’s lash line and step back to smile at Jungkook.

“Guess what the truck is called, Noona!” He’s bouncing up and down, childishly giddy.

You giggle. It’s so cute to see him so happy like this. Lately you’ve only seen him act all serious for interviews and public outings. Seeing this excited is quite refreshing.

“What is it called, Jungkookie?” You address him by the pet name you hadn’t used since he grew out of his baby face. However, seeing him like this, you felt the urge to bring it back.

“OPPA!”

The smile falls from your face. “Oppa,” you repeat, mouth forming a straight line.

“Yes. Oppa. The Oppa Truck.” He looks so proud of the name, as if he just won an award for it or something.

“You must be kidding me.”

You just stand there, stunned, maybe even a little exasperated. Just a few months ago Jungkook was adamant about not being called oppa. If you even mentioned the word around him he would look disgusted and walk out. One day he throws a hissy fit over someone calling him Oppa and the next he’s naming everything associated with him Oppa? What is up with him?

The first thing you do when you get home that night is investigate. And according to you, “investigating” means turning to Google to answer the questions that have been plaguing your mind.

“Sudden changes in behavior” you type into the search bar. Most of the results have to do with dementia in older adults, and you didn’t think Jungkook had that, so you decide to try again.

“Sudden changes in behavior in celebrities” you search. The first article is about how celebrities can start to think that they’re above the law or above public scrutiny when they possess a great amount of wealth. What Jungkook is doing is definitely not illegal, nor is it particularly controversial. It’s just odd as hell for him. These results are better, but still not what you’re looking for.

You keep clicking and searching and somehow you end up on an article about celebrity conspiracy theories. More specifically, theories about how some celebrities actually died years ago and were replaced by doppelgangers, robots, and, in Avril Lavigne’s case, a lizard person.

Finally something that makes sense! It’s so obvious now! The Jungkook you knew and loved was replaced by a robot! That explained the sudden change in personality, the superhuman healing, and the absurd knack for athleticism. That’s it! But Jeon Jungkook being replaced by a robot had to mean one thing:

Jeon Jungkook is dead.

But when could that have happened? You were with him for a majority of the last few months. Surely you would have noticed if your long time friend and client died. And there was that one time during the Wings promotion where Jungkook cut himself and bled on stage. Robots can’t bleed so it would have had to have been sometime after that.

Your mind draws a blank when you try to think of what happened between then and now. Holy shit, you think. Does this have something to do with the government? Did they wipe my memory? Why can’t I remember anything?

You can feel a migraine starting to develop and resign to go to bed. Maybe you’ll confront him in the morning. Maybe you’ll wake up and find that this is just a dream. All you know right now is that you’re exhausted and staying up probably won’t lead to anything new, so you go to sleep.

In your sleep, your mind tries to piece everything together. You dream of Jungkook – not like that, to you, he’s still a child for god’s sake. You dream of him laying on a bed – again, not like that– with a vague figure hovering over him. Jungkook’s chest has been cut open, revealing wires and circuit boards and all sorts of technology far too advanced for you to even comprehend. The vague figure pokes and prods around in there, moving wires around and soldering pieces together. He’s so absorbed in what he’s doing he doesn’t notice you standing by the door. He keeps working and you keep watching. Suddenly, one of Jungkook’s eyes pops out of his head and rolls off the bed toward you. You scream as it comes to a stop near your feet. The vague figure looks up, and once he realizes he’s been caught, he lunges at you with a screwdriver, driving it through your eye socket and into your brain. The world goes black and then you find yourself awake in a cold sweat.

You try to remember the details of your dream. You try to remember the vague figure’s face.

You’ve seen that face before. You can’t remember what he looks like, but you remember thinking as he lunged toward you, I know this man.

This dream only acts as an affirmation that it’s up to you to find out what’s going on.

The next day you go to work all jittery. You opt to skip the coffee, since it would make your hands shake even more, which would not be good in your line of work.

You need answers, but you don’t even know how you would go about getting them.

Do you just ask around? Does anyone know? Has anyone noticed a difference in Jungkook? Did anyone witness his death? You need to know.

Your first client of the day is Jimin. Having worked with these boys for years, you know that Jimin is the closest with Jungkook out of the other six. You also know that he can’t lie to save his life, so hopefully he’ll crack and tell you something. You start off the conversation comfortably, asking him how his day is going, whether or not he’s eaten yet. The usual.

Once there’s a break in the flow, you take the opportunity to attack.

“Hey Jimin have you noticed anything weird about Jungkook lately?” You ask, keeping your voice light and casual. His eyes bulge. Got him. In all honesty, you weren’t expecting him to crack so soon. You make a mental note to never trust him with any of your secrets.

He shifts in the makeup chair. “Why do you ask that?” You take a fluffy brush and sweep a brown shadow over his lid. “I don't know. I feel like he's been a little off lately and you seem to be the closest to him.” You lean in so that your nose is less than an inch from his and whisper, “Also I know you can't lie.” He leans his head back to get away. “N-no!” He replies a little too abruptly. “I think he's totally fine!” You lean in closer. “You’re lying, Park Jimin! I know it!” “No I'm not!” He tries to squirm out of the chair. “YOU’RE A TERRIBLE LIAR!” Seeing as you’re not going to let him go any time soon, he resigns. “Okay, fine there is something going on.” He sighs. You listen with anticipation. ”But I don't know if Jungkook would want me telling you. “ You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Come on please?” You pout. “I thought I was your favorite noona.” You’re so close! You just need him to break. “You are... but... I don't know. I just can't. Not many people know. Not even some of the members.” Why would they hide something so big from the members? Surely it would be important enough to tell Bangtan that their own lead singer died and was replaced by a robot?

“Fine,” you huff.

You finish up Jimin’s makeup and dismiss him. You don’t know who they’re going to send through your door next, and your heart starts racing when you see that it’s Jungkook.

“Hey, Noona! What’s up?” he greets as he plops down into the chair. You uselessly begin applying BB cream on him with your hands. “Your skin feels so real,” you observe, not realizing that you had said it outloud.

“What do you mean by that, Noona?” Jungkook’s brows furrow.

“What? Nothing.” You choose to finish up his face with a makeup sponge. “How are you Jungkook?” you ask him, trying to shift the attention away from you. “Not much is up with me.” You narrow your eyes at him. “But I know something's up with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked Jimin if there was something going on because I felt something was odd about you lately and you know he can't lie. But he told me to ask you about it.” You lean closer trying to stare him down. But his eyes don’t change, his breathing doesn’t waver. He frowns at you. “There is something going on, Noona.” “Tell me, Jungkookie.”

He hesitates. Is this it? Are you finally going to get confirmation that Jungkook is a robot? You can’t stand the anticipation. Your heart is beating out of your chest, your hands are gripping the armrests of the chair as you lean forward, waiting.

“Jimin and I are sleeping together.” “Are you real?” You blurt out at the same time. “What?” you both say together. “Noona, what do you mean am I real? As opposed to what? A robot?” He chuckles at the trivial notion. “Uhhh I uhhh. You and Jimin huh?” You ask, trying to change the subject after realizing how ridiculous your theory sounds when said out loud “Yeah. Is that wrong?” He looks up at you for your approval, as if he was afraid he’d disappoint you. Again you see in him the small child who once came to you whenever he was nervous. The one whose hands you had to hold to keep them from shaking too much before a performance. As much as this kid annoyed you or frustrated you, he could never disappoint you. “No. Not at all.” You place a hand on his cheek to reassure him. “To be honest, I had been suspecting something between you two for a while, but I just assumed you were really close.” All traces of that child disappears so suddenly and a cocky smirk takes its place. “Oh we're definitely close.” He winks at you. You roll your eyes and lean back. “Okay that solves that,” you declare, clapping your hands together. “Thanks for telling me.”

You expect him to get up and leave, but he remains in his seat, so you just stand back and stare at him.

“Wait, are we done?”

“Yup.” You dispose of the makeup sponge and clean up your workstation.

“But what about my makeup?”

“There’s not much to be done, to be honest. You’re flawless as always, Jeon Jungkook.” “Alright, cool.” Smiling, he stands up and makes his way to the door. Before he exits he turns back to you. “Oh, and can you please not tell anyone, Noona? Not even Taehyung knows and I don't want it to get out. It's not that I don't trust them, I just... I'm not ready to tell them yet.”

“Okay, I understand.”

He leaves and you go about your work day without realizing that his answer didn’t explain any of the strange things that have been happening with him.

#bttnetwork #networkbangtan #sonyeondannet #cmbnetwork #kooknetwork #jeon jungkook #kreativenetwork #armiesnet #busanboysnet #jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #jeon jeongguk #bangtan #mine #my writing #fanfic #kookoo

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kpopscenariostho · 7 years

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Get to know me

Tagged by @chimdeer, it’s about time I start doing all these things she’s tagged me in :)

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. (I dont know that many people on here)

THE LAST: 1. Drink: water 2. Phone call: my mom 3. Text message: my brother sending me a meme 4. Song you listened to: Dirty mind by Boy Epic (for scientific reasons of course lol) 5. Time you cried: I don’t remember it ._.

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: no 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: no 8. Been cheated on: no 9. Lost someone special: yes 10. Been depressed: yes 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: no

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. Black 13. Purple 14. Green

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: yes, and it’s something I’m very happy about, bec I rarely make friends, so 16. Fallen out of love: I think so it was about damn time 17. Laughed until you cried: yes 18. Found out someone was talking about you: Ella, but in a good way of course :> 19. Met someone who changed you: yes, both for good and bad 20. Found out who your friends are: I think so, but you never know 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: nope

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them, my fb is just for my family and rl friends 23. Do you have any pets: no, but I used to have hamsters and fish and a canary 24. Do you want to change your name: no, but I did want to in the past 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: I came home and had pizza and ice-cream with my friend 26. What time did you wake up: 10:30 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: watching Criminal Minds 28. Name something you can’t wait for: demon!Hobi :> 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: right now 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish I could move out of my house and live alone in my own home and have a cat 31. What are you listening right now: my dad’s snores 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: no that I remember 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: the Internet connection, it sucks 34. Most visited website: Google

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: a lot, but specially one on my back 36. Mark/s: a lot too, I fall a lot 37. Chilhood dream: writer 38. Hair color: brown 39. Long or short hair: long 40. Do you have a crush on someone: not anymore 41. What do you like about yourself: my hair and my wild imagination 42. Piercings: a helix one on my left-ear and want another above it for my bday 43. Blood type: A+ 44. Nickname: Sam 45. Relationship status: forever alone 46. Zodiac: virgo 47. Pronouns: she/her 48. Favorite TV show: Criminal Minds, The Big Bang Theory and Game of Thrones 49. Tattoos: one on my left ankle/foot 50. Right or left hand: right 51. Surgery: I got my tonsils removed 52. Hair dyed in different colors: purple and red 53. Sport: does dancing count? I also did Capoeira once, but I sucked, and I’m taking up yoga now 54. ... there’s something missing here 55. Vacation: Japan/Korea/California. Or anywhere as long as it’s with someone I can enjoy it 56. Pair of trainers: ??? I’ve alwas used Converse??

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: C-H-E-E-S-E really, anything with cheese. Also, my mom’s food 58. Drinking: water and tea 59. I’m about to: go eat something and get back to writing 60. ... we’re down to 90 now 61. Waiting for: september, I want to start my master 62. Want: to finish demon!Hobi (but I still have a long way to go) 63. Get married: I don’t believe you need a piece of paper to know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone 64. Career: I’m not sure yet, but I’m a biologist. Kind of. With a focus on health. And I’m gonna do anthropology. It’s complicated.

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: hugs all the way 66. Lips or eyes: eyes 67. Shorter or taller: taller, I’m the short one 68. Older or younger: don’t care, age is just a number, as long as you understand and love each other, that’s fine 69. ... whoever did this doesn’t know how to count 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: does it really matter? Also, what do you understad as nice stomach? 71. Sensitive or loud: sensitive 72. Hook up or relationship: relationship 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: something in the midle

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: no 75. Drank hard liquour: yes 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: no, my mom would have killed me 77. Turned someone down: yes 78. Sex in the first date: no 79. Broken someone’s heart: no 80. Had your heart broken: yes 81. Been arrested: no 82. Cried when someone died: yes 83. Fallen for a friend: yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: barely 85. Miracles: no 86. Love at first sight: no 87. Santa Claus: of course no 88. Kiss in the first date: no 89. Angels: yes

OTHER: 90. Current best friend’s name: I can’t chose just one 91. Eyecolor: brown 92. Favorite movie: Lord of the rings

Tagging: @jooninlau @otsukaresope @almostparafries and anyone who wants to do it~

#tagged

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raccooncityaliens · 8 years

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Tagged by @annamarcellie ! Thank you!

🌻rules: once you have been tagged, you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. At the end, choose 25 people to tag.

🌻LAST…

1. Drink: Coffee, still morning for me

2. Phone Call: The local crisis center (they called me)

3. Text Message: Uhhh the library telling me my books are late

4. Song You Listened To: Marina and The Diamonds - Froot

5. Time You Cried: Um... I cried a lot on Friday but don’t even remember if I’ve cried after that

🌻 HAVE YOU EVER…

6. Dated Someone Twice: Uhhh kinda, and that would apply for the last two of my lovers before H....... oop

7. Been Cheated On: Yeah, I don’t think there was actual sex involved but

8. Kissed someone and regretted it: Impulse control crap so yes

9. Lost someone special: Not to death but otherwise yes

10. Been depressed: Got first diagnosed at 13 so lmao yes

11.Gotten drunk and thrown up: Too many times....... You’d think one would learn

🌻 LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLORS…

12. Purple

13. Dark teal? what are color names

14. In general I navigate towards black and grays but let’s say muted greens

🌻 IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

15. Made new friends: Yes!! Amazing

16. Fallen out of love: No

17. Laughed until you cried: Yes, the worst was around Christmas when we were playing a word board game with sis and I thought I was going to choke and die because I laughed too hysterically........ still funny tho

18. Found out someone was talking about you: No...! Not including my fiancée. But I’m pretty sure someone’s spreading shit because people are being weird.

19. Met someone who changed you: Yes

20. Found out who your true friends are: I think I’ll see soon

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Yah sure

🌻 GENERAL…

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost everyone who lives/lived in Finland

23. Do you have any pets: Not really but I’m an adoptive parent to a hamster grandpa

24. Do you want to change your name: Legally yeah

25. What did you do for your last birthday: That is a hell of a question....... I think sis was in town and we spent time with mom?

26. What time did you wake up today: Around 9:30 which is really weird

27. What were doing at midnight last night: Getting ready for bed

28. Name something you cannot wait for: Mass Effect Andromeda, getting more money, our handfasting

29. When was the last time you saw your mother: Friday evening

30. What is one thing that you could change about your life: H getting healthy..... or at least getting healthier and more time here on Earth. Also less intense mental illnesses would be gr8. Also top surgery.

31. What are you listening to right now: More Marina, currently Girls

32. Have you ever talked to someone named Tom: No, actually

33. Something that gets on your nerves: People telling me that being positive fixes everything

34. Most visited website: Just really tumblr. Then fb, youtube. Or maybe google really, I google a lot of stuff.

35. Elementary: School? Uhhh how would these translate into Finnish school system.... Trauma period continued but I didn’t realize it at a time

36. Secondary: More trauma, mental illness hitting full force

37. College: I’m at uni but it would be gr8 if I had more spoons and less..... illness

38. Hair colour: Two shades of brown because my undyed roots are like half of my hair

39. Long or short hair: Short

40. Do you have a crush on someone: Yes *v* tho I think we’re far past the crush stage already

41. What do you like about yourself: I try my best to be a decent human being

42. Piercings: Ears, one stretched, labret, tongue, helix, navel

43. Blood type: B+

44. Nicknames: Ppl just call me Luka or Karo

45. Relationship Status: ENGAGED

46. Zodiac sign: Taurus sun, aquarius moon.

47. Pronouns: They/them. He/him works too but not always.

48. fav Tv show: at this exact moment: Hannibal always, Star Trek TOS always. Just got into Skam tho

49. Tattoos: Kenaz on my right ring finger

50. Right or left handed: Right

🌻 FIRST…

51. Surgery: I’ve actually never had surgery miraculously enough

52. Piercing: Well ears when I was like 7, but labret.

53. Best friend: Was this piece of crap girlie but first real bff @murdercutie

54. Sport: Uhhhhhh........ Dance? Badminton?

55. Vacation: France when I was like 2. Dad’s friend lived there.

56. Pair of trainers: I have literally no idea

🌻 RIGHT NOW…

57. Eating: Nothiiing I should have breakfast

58. Drinking: More coffee.......

59. i’m about to: ....Drink coffee........

60. listening to: Forgot to put music back on, thanks

61. waiting for: My brain to wake up

62. want: MoONEeeyyy

63. get married: Yah in the summer !

64. career: I’m a student in theory lmao not gonna get a single credit this year. Hope to be a researcher at some point, unless I find another cool job in my field.

🌻 WHICH IS BETTER…

65. hugs or kisses: Hugs actually

66. lips or eyes: Eyess I guess

67. shorter or taller: Shorter so I can feel tol

68. older or younger: Idgaf, H is younger

69. romantic or spontaneous: Romantic? And spontaneous to a limit too

70. nice arms or nice stomach: Either way!

71. sensitive or loud: Sensitive def

72. hook up or relationship: Relationship always and forever, hook ups have been terrible for me

73. troublemaker or hesitant: Troublemaker 8>

🌻 HAVE YOU EVER…

74. kissed a stranger: Yep

75. drank hard liquor: Ooh yes

76. lost glasses/contact lenses: Well colored contacts yeah

77. turned someone down: Yup

78. sex on first date: :)))))

79. broken someone’s heart: Maaaaybe? Once maybe?

80. had your own heart broken: Shattered to fucking pieces

81. been arrested: Nope

82. cried when someone died: Nobody in my social circle has died. When my dog died yes tho. For... weeks.

83. fallen for a friend: Yeeees

🌻 DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

84. yourself: Idk like in what way? But no I have BPD

85. miracles: I want to

86. love at first sight: I was like definite nope but now I’m like.... well, shit

87. santa claus: Well not in that sense

88. kiss on the first date: Sure

89. angels: I think they exist but I don’t really work with them

🌻 OTHER…

90. current best friend’s name: Katariina still!

91. eye colour: Like amber or something. Or brown or green. Who knows really.

92. favourite movie: I can’t choose????

I don’t want to tag anyone specifically but mutuals do this!!

#about me #questionnaire #long post #alcohol cw #sex cw

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davidaolson · 6 years

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There are few situations more frightening than sitting comfortably with your back against a smooth rock on a gloriously hot, dry, and sunny day breathing pristine mountain air without a worry until hearing an agitated buzzing and realizing you are face to face and within striking distance of a rattlesnake. A rattlesnake with a body thicker than your flexed bicep. A rattlesnake in a tight coil, neck cocked in a tense ’S’ where the slightest breeze would release the hair trigger, and the only escape route is through or over the snake. One should be afraid. One should be terrified. But I was not. Perhaps it is because I, a self-avowed Desert Rat, have a strange affinity for snakes. Perhaps the flicking black tongue hypnotized me. I’m not sure. All I remember from the moment at Petroglyph National Monument was feeling mesmerized.

Midday in the summer at White Sands National Monument in New Mexico is brutally hot and searingly bright. I found myself constantly squinting because my sunglasses were not dark enough to block the brilliance of the sunlight reflecting off the pure white, gypsum dunes. It was as if the white sands magnified the intensity of the light and we were the insects being fried by a sunbeam focused through a magnifying glass. To escape the hottest parts of the day, we spent afternoons visiting New Mexico sites at higher elevations with thinner, cooler air. One of those was 3 Rivers Petroglyph National Monument where I encountered said snake.

Getting To The Petroglyhs

About 45 minutes north of our hotel in Alamogordo, a bit longer if one stops at Del Sol to buy souvenirs, is the 3 Rivers Petroglyph National Monument. It is renown for the more than 24 thousand petroglyphs etched into the sides of large rocks. They were created sometime between 1300 and 1700 AD.

I love ancient art much which modernity arrogantly classifies as primitive. Primitive artistry is that of a child learning to scribble lines onto paper. The creations are without underlying meaning transmitted between souls. The pictographs and petroglyphs scattered throughout the Southwest United States and the cave paintings in Sochaux France are different. They were either a message between peoples or communications connecting peoples with their Gods. Any art that has meaning for the creators, connects people, or seeks communion with the Gods and has stood the test of time is high art no matter the technique.

I first encountered the ancient glyphs during my first trip to Moab in 1986s when I saw the famed Newspaper rock. It is on the road approaching the Needles section of Canyonlands, National Park. I had no idea Newspaper Rock existed until I came upon it by accident. It is decorated with hundreds of glyphs picked into the very dark desert varnish.

Petroglyph National Park requires a $5 entrance fee paid on the honor system. Grab an envelope, throw in the money, scribble some info, and drop it into the tube. We grabbed a trail guide, found a place to park in the shade recently vacated by a roadrunner and planned our excursion. The guide warns of rattlesnake danger. There is another rattlesnake warning on a yellow sign at the trailhead. My wife and I both became agitated. Her for a deep dread of snakes and her uncanny ability to happen upon them in the wild. Me at the prospect of finally coming face to face with Rattlesnake and losing myself in the depthless black eyes.

The Gentleman with the Forked Tongue

I am a snake aficionado. Possibly because I too regularly shed my skin though mine sheds after the sun burns my epidermal layer which dies and sloughs off where snakes shed as they grow. Rattlesnake is a sun worshipper eagerly absorbing its warm caresses after a cold night like a hungry lover. I enjoy the sun but tend to avoid direct sunlight because the rays pierce my skin like a thousand microscopic snake bites leaving me red and pained. Perhaps it is because snakes carry a stigma of evil as we gingers did in less enlightened times. Of all the venomous snakes, I view Rattlesnake as gentlelady or gentleman. They courteously give warning before protecting themselves with a two-fanged defense.

In the three decades I have visited Arizona, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico I have yet to encounter Rattlesnake. Not for want of trying. I have poked sticks in various snake habitats without ever hearing the characteristic buzz and feeling a chill snake up and down my spine. Someday…

It the chief function of the forked Rattlesnake tongue is to sense heat. It has the unparalleled ability to discern variations in temperature down to 0.002 degrees Celsius which is more sensitive than all but the most advanced scientific equipment. The heat sensing being the primary responsibility of the tongue is a postulate of those discarding spiritual mysteries and believing science can explain all phenomena.

I posit another theory, one braiding together physical Rattlesnake, spiritual flow emanating from all that is created, and the interconnectedness of all existential beings past, present, and yet to be. Rattlesnake is a spirit animal, a truth known to many of this continents aboriginal inhabitants, a truth mostly ignored or written off as heresy by the waves of Christianized immigrants flooding the land over the past 500 years. Rattlesnake is feared as a harbinger of violence and revenge. And prized for the magical properties of their rattles. Love-Hate. Yin-Yang.

The flicking, forked tongue is a divining rod reading the liquid soul deep hidden beneath the surface flesh. It can discern the soul of Prey from the soul of Predator and take appropriate action. It can taste the difference between the fearful and the fearless. It can smell the stirrings of the heart and distinguish between friend and foe. When it lapped in my aura, the friend centers were tickled so I did not die. But, I get ahead of myself.

1000 Petroglyph Trail

The trail to the Petroglyphs is a rugged 1/2 mile climbing 100 feet in elevation. In the beginning, my wife stuck to the beaten path while I bounced from rock to wobbly rock photographing glyphs not visible from the crooked trail. They were etched into almost every rock that had a sheen of dark brown desert varnish. Some glyphs were barely visible suffering years of exposure to the elements while others seemed fresh as white milk. I wish I had packed sturdier shoes because seeing many of the glyphs required walking off trail over rocks, many unstable, many sharp. I could feel the stones digging into the soft soles of my sneakers.

There are 11 markers on the path indicating points with either dense glyph activity or a particularly striking image. We started out on our own enjoying the search for traces of ancient minds with the only sounds being our whispers to each other or the wind echoing in our ears. It was peaceful. We were peaceful.

At trail marker 1, a family with young kids caught up to us. The kids were loud, yelling, eagerly shouting to each other when they discovered an image. Our serenity was shattered. Rather than stay immersed in the cacophony, we hung back for a bit until they pushed ahead a few markers and we were separated by enough distance to wrap ourselves in the comfortable semi-silence.

Grandfather

The trails divide providing views from both sides of the etched stones then reunite a bit further on. Think of a double helix squashed two-dimensional and you get the idea.

I used to climb rocks with the agility of a goat. As the year’s progress, I am becoming less sure of my climbing abilities. My balance is suspect. Still, I chose to take a risk and climb a copse of rocks to see what was on the other side. At this point, I did not realize the trail was a double helix. In the jumble of boulders, I found a set of glyphs not visible from the trail.

The meaning behind most glyphs is either unknown or pure speculation. Only one, here, had an obvious interpretation even to my untrained eye. The Rattlesnake glyph with coiled body and head elevated in a defensive position. I needed a closer look at the symbol residing at knee height. I brushed aside small rocks and dead scrub for a place to sit without sticks and stones chewing into my ass cheeks, dropped down and pulled in my feet sitting Buddha style.

Rattlesnake Glyph

I was at eye-level with the glyph, most likely, in the exact spot as the ancients responsible for birthing this art. It was marvelous. It was intriguing. What was the ancient trying to say? Was this to honor Rattlesnake? Was it a totem to warm others away? What did the undecipherable images on the surrounding rocks represent? Were they simply graffiti? My mind popcorned these and many more questions but none were buttered with a definitive answer. Questions. Questions. No answers.

I am a writer. I write daily. In a thousand years, will my writings be as mysterious to future generations as these glyphs are to me? I am sure the yet to be born will have technology capable of translating my scribblings into a future language but my recorded imagery is born of my time, rooted in the deep loamy earth of David. I am misunderstood by my own generation. Is there, then, any hope for future generations? How will future explorers understand images born of events too subtle to make a ripple in anyone’s history except my own? History continues generating ripple waves. Soon, today will be absorbed in the tsunamis of collective history and my messages will be obscured.

I wasn’t able to sit Buddhist style for long. Wear and tear on my knees from years of reckless athletic activity made them less flexible, prone to pain when bent to extremes. I stretched out my legs as best I could and put my hands behind me. The stone was hot. So, I put them in shadow openings beneath the rocks after first making sure there were no creepies in those spaces not baked all day in the solar furnace.

No sooner was I comfortable, I felt a sting in my right hand in the meaty part at the thumb base. Heat rushed from my hand up my arm and spread until my entire body was enveloped. My body felt like it was being stuck with thousands of fiery needles. My thoughts slowed. My sight tunneled until I could only see a circle of light, a circle that kept shrinking until it was a pinpoint outside of my reach. My body elevated, was sucked into the light, spit out on the opposite side.

My mind had been ripped out of my body and seeped into the thin slice of space between the living and the dead, the thread separating yin from yang, the sliver of brachiated light wherein exists the spirit of all beings ever to have blessed or cursed Earth with their presence, the forms held before recycling into other beings. If this is my end or a new beginning? If a new beginning, I hope I am recycled as Condor so I can soar high in the clouds descending to Earth only to feed or carry departed souls into the Heavens.

The sunlight was bifurcated. The light beam entering my left eye contained a faded version of the visible color spectrum, faint as watercolors carrying too much liquid. It was as if a color vampire had sucked out the vibrancy. The other eye filled with light bleached of all color saw only shades of gray. Once they reached an equilibrium, I experienced the world in the sepia. It was like looking at old photographs from the late 1900s faded from exposure to wicked sunlight over many a year. When I was finally able to adapt my focus, I found I was sitting behind the shoulder of an old man, a very old man.

He was thin as a stalk of corn. Yet strong. Had long white hair reaching to his waist, skinned bronzed to the color of red Earth. Leathery skin from living life in the biting sun. Morning hours hunting in the hills, afternoons farming in the valley, and long treks over a land without much in the way of shade. His firm, taught muscles flexed as he chipped a coil into the coffee brown surface of the rock’s skin. A rock tattoo. It was obviously the creation of the snake I had been admiring. It was half complete. Perhaps, I could get some insight into these masterpieces. First I had to figure out who the old man was.

“Who? Who are you?”

“I am your great, grandfather. Call me Grandfather.”

“Grandfather,” I asked, “why are you carving a snake into the rock?”

“I am not carving Snake into Rock.”

“If not a snake, what are you carving?”

“I am not carving.”

“But Grandfather, I see you chipping away at the stone.”

“You are looking but not seeing. The eyes look, the heart sees.”

“Grandfather?”

He turned toward me. Only then did I realize sunlight no longer penetrated his eyes. They were milky with thick cataracts. Grandfather was blind.

“I am freeing clan Brother Rattlesnake. It is his time. He has been trapped in this rock since the creation.”

“How did you know it was there?”

“Because my eyes no longer carry light from the sun to my heart does not mean I cannot still see.”

“I don’t understand, Grandfather.”

He returned to his work. Chipping and scraping with stone tools. Stopping to caress the rock. Chip. Chip. Chip some more. The coil finished and the neck was slowly being revealed. He worked for long minutes without uttering a word. Compact movements with much force. I grew antsy in his silence.

“When will the image be finished, Grandfather?”

“It is not an image, grandson.”

“But I see you are carving a snake. How do you know where to chip?”

“Rattlesnake is cold blooded. He absorbs heat from the surroundings. It concentrates in his body. I can feel His warmth when I rub my hand on the rock. My purpose is to release Him.”

“Purpose?”

“We all have a purpose grandson.”

“We do? Do you know my purpose? Do you know Why I am here?”

The old man paused in his work. A slight smile creased his wizened lips forcing the sun cut lines in his leathery face to scrunch into ravines. Only his eye teeth remained in his mouth.

“I dreamed you to visit this sacred mountain. I dreamed you to sit in front of Rattlesnake in your world. I directed baby Rattlesnake to bite you. Then when you were balanced between life and death, I pulled you through the light tunnel into this sliver world between worlds.”

“What? Why?”

He continued, “As a child, I was bitten in the leg by Rattlesnake when I walked too close to her den. I was deep in thought so did not hear the rattle warning and crushed one of her children. It was the spirit of the crushed snake that bit you in the hand in your world. The heat from the poison crawled up my leg and I fell into a trance where I experienced a vision. In that vision, I had a grandson with hair the color of fire. This fire hair was strange to me because our people have always had hair as black and glossy as Raven feathers. Even when old, our hair colored retained a rich blackness. I always thought of us as belonging to the Raven clan. In my vision, the fire hair was the sign of the one who would continue our family mission and carry the message of Rattlesnake to future generations.”

He stopped talking. Rubbed his hand on the rock. “I can feel the beating heart of Rattlesnake. It is close to time.” He again chipped away. Kept chipping until Rattlesnake was fully revealed.

“I have 23 grandchildren. All but one was born with Raven’s hair. One was born with a white streak in her black hair and our people believed her to be the emissary. But I knew she was not the one. My four daughters have since grown barren so, I thought, I had angered the Gods and they turned their back on our people. This made me sad.”

“My second grandson married a woman who had a white grandfather. His second child, you, were born with the full head of hair like fire. My sight had been fading for a long time and was almost gone and I feared I would return to the spirit world before seeing my vision come true. Seeing your fire hair, I knew there was still powerful magic in my vision. And I knew my life candle was nearing the end.”

He speech was slowing. At times, he spoke haltingly seeming to be short of breath.

“Grandson, we are clan brothers to Rattlesnake. It is your destiny…your purpose is…”

Before he could finish, he turned to dust. Right before my eyes, he turned completely to dust. His form hung in the air momentarily. Then, as if the God’s exhaled, a gentle breeze carried his form high into the sky where it dispersed and floated toward the valley below. I was left alone, wondering…what is my purpose, my destiny? More so. What the hell just happened?

Clan Brothers

“Grandfather!”, I yelled into the sky. “I am 57 years old and still don’t know why I exist. I was so close to finally understanding my purpose. But you abandoned me. Why does everyone abandon me?” My eyes moistened. I rubbed them vigorously. No tears. Not now. Not here.

“He cannot hear you anymore, my brother. Hisss purpossse isss fulfilled. Hisss journey isss finished. But yoursss…yoursss isss jussst beginning. Now, your quessstion…”

“What question?”

“The quessstion of abandonment. Our kind alwaysss end up alone. It isss not abandonment. It’sss dessstiny. It’sss the natural order of life. Wolf people live in community. Our people…well most people fear our people. When we gather together, their fear increasssesss. They kill what they fear ssso we exist alone. It is sssafer that way.”

I knew it was a rattlesnake talking before I saw him because his words were accented by a pronounced hisp and accompanied by a gentle rattling sound. I turned but not too quick so as to betray my heart pounding terror. The rock where grandfather chipped was seared bright white as if blasted by intense heat. Sharp details were burned into the rock including Rattlesnake’s fangs and each rattle segment. The image was carved deep, a reverse sculpture. Coiled in the spot where Grandfather had been sitting moments earlier was a rattlesnake with a body thick as my flexed bicep rattlesnake. The rattle had 20 or more segments. It was deathly still except for the flicking tongue. With each flick, my heart trembled as if the tongue was penetrating into my soul.

“B…B…Brother? Did you call me b…brother?”

“Yesss. We are brothersss as were Grandfather and I. Our peoplesss have alwaysss been brothersss and sssistersss.”

“Always?”

“Ever sssinssse we emerged into thisss fourth world. Before that, there was only the Godsss. It was the Godsss who sssealed me in that rock. They sssaid I broke sssacred lawsss. I asssked which lawsss and to sssee the textsss. But they sssaid the lawsss were too powerful to be written down. I had to trussst their wordsss. They never did explain which lawsss. Truth isss, the Godsss are frightened of me, of usss ssso they locked me away in the rock.”

If I was surprised when I could understand grandfather though we did not speak each other’s language, I was even more astonished realizing I could understand the thoughts slipping off Rattlesnake’s forked tongue.

“Ok. I’ll bite. Why are the Godsss…the Gods…afraid of us?”

The Gods

“We are the guardiansss of thisss boundary universsse between. It isss here we give the gift of visssionsss. Visssionsss allowing other beingsss to glimpssse knowledge the Godsss amasss for themssselvesss. The Godsss are jealousss beingsss. The Godsss are vindictive. The Godsss hoard the knowledge for themssselvesss becaussse the knowledge givesss them power, power over othersss they are unwilling to ssshare. Ssso they persssecute our kind.”

“What kind of power?”

“The power over life and death. The power to manipulate humanity for their pleasssure. They crave absssolute power. They are absssolutely corrupt.”

“They? Gods? There is only one God and he is the Lord Jesus Christ!”

Rattlesnake’s head swayed from side to side in annoyance. For an instant, I expected a final, venomous bite. Instead, he spat in disgust, “Foolisssh boy. Foolisssh, gullible boy. There are many godsss. Layersss of demigodsss, sssub gods, and psssychophant godsss kisssing asss to win favor and move up the god ranksss. At the top, there isss a committee of big G Godsss. Each isss vying for the heartsss of humankind ssso they control everything. The big G Godsss routinely and sssecretly from the other big G Godsss sssend prophets to infiltrate humankind. They are attemptsss to sssway the masssesss to worssship them and them alone. Numbersss equal power. All thossse prayersss ssshift collective consssciousssnesss toward one of the big G Gods. Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow. Think of it asss a human electoral college. You sssilly humansss hear one Godsss twisssted mutteringsss and asssume it represssentsss all truthsss. You fight warsss tipping the balancsse. Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow. Humansss sssuffer. Animalsss sssuffer. Ssspiritsss sssufer. Only the Godsss win.”

The longer he talked the more agitated he became. His entire body spasmed. Drops of venom flew from his fangs, landed on my lips and tongue. I swallowed before I could reflexively gag. My tongue, throat, esophagus, all burned until the pain settled in my stomach and scorched. I felt like I had swallowed liquid fire. It took a while before the pain diminished and my lips only tingled as they do when I’ve eaten a meal sprinkled liberally with chile de árbol or long kissed my gorgeous wife.

“Wife?” I was walking with my wife. It was my turn to be agitated. “Where am I?” She and I were searching for glyphs together. “Where are you?” I called looking around trying to catch a glimpse of her raven hair. As I started to get up, I felt a dual-pronged sting in my neck and a searing heat, the same searing heat when my hand was bitten. The hotness enveloped my brain almost immediately giving way to a massive head rush lasting minutes. Hours? Longer, I realized as I watched the moon arc overhead and the sunrise again.

“You are a ssstrong one Brother, asss ssstrong asss Grandfather. Mossst don’t sssurvive the firssst kisss. But you, you have sssurvived two. You may need even require another to remain with me in thisss between world.”

When the sun was again high in the sky, the headrush subsided. Heat seeped into my body like the runoff from a heavy rain through a narrow crack in an otherwise sturdy foundation. Slow. Steady. Until I was flooded with a tingly calmness from my toes to my hair. My heartbeat slowed to 1/2 time.

“Now that we are refocusssed.”

Rattlesnake kept referring to us as we. I’m a me not a we. I’m a me!

“As there are many Godsss there are many truthsss. And there isss one truth you need to hear to put all in perssspective. It isss about the book you worship as Holy Bible. The Godsss cassst my type as demonsss becaussse we were not afraid to ssspeak the truth about them, are not afraid to expossse their secrets to mankind. Ssso, they convinsssed the prophetsss to write about firssst sssnake as the decsseiver, the tempter faulted for the fall of man. It isss the original fake newsss.”

For the most part, I believe the Bible was a source of truth. But, I would not be being honest if I didn’t admit to harboring doubts about the claims of Biblical inerrancy. There were conflicts. There are conflicts between the stories.

“You are telling me, the account of the fall of man at the tongue of the snake is fake news? That the Bible is built on a foundation of misinformation?”

Rattlesnake rolled his diamond shaped head in exasperation, let out a long hiss, and a few, short rattles from his tail. I imagined he also rolled his eyes but couldn’t really tell if the elliptical pupil rolled in the eye socket or when he rolled his head, the sun glinting off the eye made it appear the eyes rolled. Nor do I know if their eyes can roll. Cross-cultural communication is always difficult. Cross-species nearly impossible. Body language easily misinterpreted. Either way, I definitely felt his disdain.

“It isss not all liesss. There are ssscattered truthsss. The Godsss know the bessst way to disssguissse liesss isss to wrap them in a plausssible veneer of truth. People rarely put in the effort to sssee passst the sssuperficssial making you a creature easssily manipulated. The herssstory of humanity is littered with disssguisssed truthsss…”

Rattlesnake entered into a long, long story, a sing-song story during which he wove all origin tales into a single creation/evolution epic. A long braid combing all myths into a single rope stretching from the origin of the Gods, through the creation of Earth, the rise of all life forms from single cells up to and including the age of man. The entire time he sang, his head moved side to side hypnotically, dancing to a rhythm to which only his Rattlesnake soul was privy. The sun and moon changed places during the monologue song. Is this the 2nd or 3rd day?

“And we come to you, Brother David.”

“How do you know my name?”

He rolled his head in an exaggerated circle and hiss-sighed. “Ssshit. Let me get thisss ssstraight. I, Sssnake, was freed from inssside an ancssient rock by a blind man who vanissshed in a cloud of dussst, have ssspoken to you in a language you underssstand. But you are sssurprisssed I know your name?”

Visions

“Ya. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Okay, on with this. To recap, I am 57 years old, already on borrowed time. I better hear my purpose before the Grim one returns to collect on the debt or your story will also be lost to time.”

Rattlesnake uncoiled. Recoiled clockwise. Uncoiled again. Recoiled anti-clockwise. His scales rubbed against each other sounding like sandpaper abrading rock. He was contemplating his next move. Would he move a Pawn and we would dance longer or go big and choose the Black Knight pinning me with a show of force? He flicked his forked black tongue. It was disconcerting to have him tasting the stress I was trying to hide. Time to try some flattery. Advance a Pawn and put him on shaky ground.

“Brother Rattlesnake, I see you are old, ancient by your story, blessed with the wisdom of the Gods. It seems to me you should also be recognized as a big G God. Yet, you appear to not have a clear vision into future days passed? Are you inferior to the Gods?“

“Never, bother! I am wissse, asss wissse asss the wisssessst God. Thisss offendsss their petty egosss ssso they conssspired when I was resssting and limited my ability to sssee into future daysss. But even together, their combined ssstrength wasss not enough to completely block my ability to know futuresss. My visssion of near future daysss isss cryssstal. It quickly loosssesss focusss when thossse daysss reach beyond a moon cycle. Then I mussst rely on my dreamsss of could be futuresss. In sssome of my dreamsss you are prominent, sssome a ssshadow figure disssappearing in the breath of a god, othersss I tassste no trace of you. In all dreamsss where you appear, there are two consssissstensssiesss. You wear a medisssine bag the color of sssunrissse. It hangsss from a leather cord and ressstsss over your heart.”

“Brother, I don’t own a medicine bag. I did once…”

“Yesss, yesss, yesss, I know. You did oncsse but it isss long sssincsse lossst. You were carelesss. Earth hasss cleaned up and repurposssed your messs. It wasss crafted by an indigenousss, decorated with Porcupinesss quillsss, and held the ssspirit of beingsss important to you. It wasss made from Deer jussst like the one in my dreamsss. The dream bag, though, doesss not have quillsss ssso it isss a different bag. ”

“Thisss dream time bag will find it’sss way into your handsss. When it doesss, the firssst sssacred object you mussst include isss the creamy flowersss from a wissse Yucca. A flower in full bloom with a calming perfume. The plant mussst be old with a ssstalk asss thick asss my body. Wrap your hand around my neck for a sssize comparissson.”

I hesitated. It was one thing to talk with Snake quite another to touch this demigod or demidevil, I’m not sure which. After hearing Rattlesnakes stories, I see little difference between the two.

“Brother, you hesssitate. Not to worry. I won’t bite.” As snake spoke the corners of his lipless mouth turned up in a sort of forced smile, a smile tinged with evil? “If I wanted you dead you would already be. I am the vulnerable one. Your hand around my neck preventsss me from biting. Sssqueeze too hard and I will choke, posssibly to my own death.”

I reached out with my left hand while the right searched the ground for a sharp rock. If I was to be attacked, I would return the favor. But hadn’t Snake foreseen this in his dream time so would know my plan? The girth of his neck was large, my fingertips did not touch. There was a good two-inch gap between my middle finger and thumb. Never had I touched a snake with such thickness. I had seen large pythons but never held one. My experience was limited to garter snakes and once, when a kid, a slender green grass snake no thicker than my pinky. I would have like to keep it as a pet. But mom’s tend to not be enamored with snakes or worms.

Mostly we caught garter snakes in the field near our home. It was a field next to railroad tracks where we jumped our bikes on precariously narrow ramps catching sky. The local trains sometimes lost thin sheets of metal roughly the dimensions of a window fan box. Snakes would hide beneath. Once we found a dozenish intertwined beneath a single sheet. A nest? An orgy? We caught a few and took them home where we tossed them in a wheelbarrow.

These were also a good size for snake pets. But, garter snakes secrete a stinky odor that sticks to the hands so holding them has consequences. I was bit once on the fleshy meat of my left palm. The teeth were much too small to do any damage. They barely broke the skin. To this day, though, there is a slight mass beneath the skin at the point of the bite.

The garter snakes and every other snake I ever touched felt cool. Which makes sense because snakes are cold-blooded and tend toward ambient temperatures. Not so with Rattlesnake. He was warm. The longer I gripped his neck the hotter he became until my hand burned and I had to let go. There were scale mark patterns in my flesh. It soon came to me, while my hand was around Rattlesnakes neck, I did not feel the expansion or contraction of respiration.

“You don’t breathe?”

“No, Brother. I don’t breathe. I don’t need too. I am not mortal.”

“If you don’t breathe then I could not have choked you. You were fucking with me.”

“Hisss, hisss, hisss.” Never had a laugh sounded so evil. I tried to hide my irritation and continued digging for information.

“Your neck is quite thick. I have never seen Yucca with a stalk anywhere near your girth. Where do I find such a being?“

“A few exissst. Fewer each passing year. They are the ancssientssss, ssso old they are often missstaken for immortalsss. They are not immortal in their own right but live longer than the average human ssso ssseem to be immortal. They have an inner ssstrength gained through meditasssion allowing them to sssurvive everything man and Earth throwsss their way. Drought, highwaysss, pessstisssides, pollusssion.”

“Pollution? Here? It’s pristine. The sky is untainted.”

“You, Brother, have never ssseen prissstine Nueva Méxican ssskiesss. Thessse are tainted, have been graying ssslowly for decadesss. There was a time you could sssee hundredsss of milesss. Today, you are lucky to sssee ten. They are laden with poisssonsss emanating from La La Land California. But thisss isss not relevant to our conversssation.”

“Find a venerable Yucca and put a few fully bloomed flowersss in your medicssine bag. Do it before you leave Nueva México. The yucca in Texasss are of a different lineage and will not do. And don’t forget to thank Great Grandmother Yucca before acsssepting her gift or ssshe will caussse you to bleed.”

“And why do I need a Yucca blossom?”

Rattlesnake’s tail vibrated. The shaking worked it’s way up Snake’s body the way a dog shakes from head to tail when ridding itself of water. Snakes entire body vibrated with the same frequency as the rattle. It took a few moments until he calmed leaving only the rattle shaking. That, too, became still.

“You book sssmart people can be ssstupid to the core! Have you not been lissstening? I am the current ssstep, a guide in your journey, a sssegment in the rattle, a cairn ssshowing you the direction your path undertakesss. Asss isss Yucca. Asss isss Tukó.”

“Toku? What’s a toku?”

“It’sss Tukó. Tukó!”

“Toku. That’s what I said.”

“You did not. It isss Tu asss in the number two and Kó. Tukó” He emphasized the last syllable. “Not Toku. When you meet, don’t call her by the wrong name or ssshe will pretend ssshe cannot ssspeak and ssscurry away. Your opportunity will never again return.”

“Ok. What is Tukó?”

“The mossst common form of Tukó isss sssnake with four legsss and a fat tail without a rattle. Tukó alssso appearsss asss a woman sssteeped in poverty. One never knowsss ssso mussst alwaysss be ready for the unecsspected.”

“Snake with four legs? Sounds sorta like a lizard.”

“What is lizssard but a sssnake with legsss.”

“Pay attensssion. You will meet Tukó in the Philippinesss before the next fat moon.”

“Fat moon? Uh…Do you mean full moon?”

“Fat. Full. Sssame thing.”

“I am not going to the Philippines until next year. You are very mistaken. In a couple of months, I will be in Peru visiting Machu Picchu. Not the Philippines.”

“Peru is an ilusssion. You will be in the Philippinesss and meet Tukó BEFORE the next fat…er…full moon. When you sssee Tukó, give him one Yucca flower.”

“Him? Earlier you called Tukó she. Are you forgetting your lies serpent?”

“Tukó isss a ssspirit animal. Like all ssspirit beingsss and many humansss, it isss a nádleehí with the power to transssform into any gender, female, male, llamana with two ssspiritsss, or fourth gender femminielli. Ssspiritsss are gender fluid, gender non-binary. They become whatever isss needed. It isss the natural way of all life.”

“By the time you sssee Tukó, Moth’sss egg will have hatched and Worm hiding in the flower will be a juicssy treat. Tukó will acssept the flower, eat the worm, then and only then will Tukó ssspeak with you. Ssshe will reveal the next phassse of your purpossse journey. Lisssten closely for ssshe is ssshy, not talkative like me. Ssshe will ssspeak her peacsse oncsse and ssskitter away.”

“What if Tukó is in woman form?”

“The delicate ssscent of the Yucca flower…”

I interrupted, “Yucca flowers have no scent. I sniffed some yesterday at White Sands. Nothing. No smell.”

Rattlesnake long sighed, “Jussst becaussse you don’t percsseive doesssn’t mean sssomething does not exissst. We ssspirit beingsss live in a ssstate of hyper sssensssitivity. We sssee the cream of the Yucca petalsss and the ultraviolet to which you are blind. We sssenssse the delicate aroma, not unlike a fresh rossse with a hint of desssert Ssspring, of the flower to which you are nossse blind. Now, ssstop interrupting and pay attensssion. Our time together drawsss to an end and there isss ssstill knowledge you need.”

“The delicate ssscent of the Yucca flower combined with the echoing heartbeat of the young worm will drive her to ssshape shift into her typical four-legged sssnake form.”

“Why are there so many steps to find my purpose? Why don’t you just tell me the entire story?”

“The big G Godsss limited my visssion. Another punissshment for letting the created beingsss know they are pawnsss in the Godsss twisssted gamesss. We learned to sssee futuresss by tasssting with our tonguesss. It hasss evolved to help usss hunt and to know when the big Gsss are trying to sssneak up on usss ssso we can hide.”

“My tassste is limited to a future bounded by one moon cssycle. Beyond that, all blursss and I mussst rely on my dreamsss. Thisss clear tassste isss how I know you will meet Tukó before the nexsst fat moon. In my visssion tassste, there isss your flavor, the flavor of Tukó, and a definite acsssent of balut. The balut tellsss me you will be meeting in the Philippinesss. This is all I have to sssay. I am done.”

It was time to roll my eyes. “Oookayyy…” If I had a rattle tail, I would have shaken it in mockery. “I am NOT going to the Philippines until next year at the earliest. And even that is speculative. So, you can either see further than you claim or are an outright, fork-tongued liar and the Bible is right calling you, serpent, the father of all lies.”

Rattlesnake seemed to be moving slower like his muscles were stiffening.

“Mock me all you want, Brother.” Snake weakly spat. “It won’t change the revealed truth. A Tragedy isss coming that will take you to the Philippinesss. You mussst bring a Yucca flower if you want to learn your purpossse. If you choossse to ignore my entreatiesss, you will go to grave wondering why you were created.”

Rattlesnake stiffness consumed his entire body but for the head. It was stiffening into the exact same shape Grandfather carved into the rock.

“Wait! I have one more question. How will I know which it Tukó? ”

“My time isss done, Brother. I return to the rock prissson. Heed my wordsss or forever be lossst to you purpossse….”

“The Philippines has lots of lizards. How will I know?”

Spell Is Broken

Before Rattlesnake could answer my last question, he turned into solid rock. I tapped it a couple of times to make sure it wasn’t a trick. Nope. Solid rock. I picked him up, he was surprisingly light and put him back into the rock, a perfectly fitted puzzle piece. A blinding light like lightning flashed in the seams between rock and snake welding it into a solid structure leaving nothing of Rattlesnake but the petroglyph. It took a few blinks for the spots in my vision to fade and see clearly again. The sky was again vibrant. The clouds milky white. My vision was back to full color. No more Sepia.

“David, let’s go.” It was my wife’s voice. She must be worried. How many days had she searched for me? I recall at least two moon risings. So three days? I stood up from between the copse of rocks.

“Here I am.”

“I know. I saw you sitting in the rocks. You need to be careful. The signs said there are lot’s of rattlesnakes in the area.”

“I know. I looked for them. How long have you been looking for me? You must have been worried.”

“Looking for you? I wasn’t looking for you. I saw you climb between those rocks. I walked around looking at the petroglyphs. There is a sheep with arrows over here you’ve got to see. When I got to this side, I saw your white hair…”

“My hair is red.”

“It may have been red once. It is white now and I think it’s starting to get thinner on top. Anyway, I walked around the rocks shooting a few pictures of the petroglyphs. I love the pics from this iPhone. They are so clear. Now, let’s keeping moving. I saw another car pull up and I want to keep distance between them and us.”

I could feel the sweat trickling down my face. The high sun was beating down and the wind dropped off to the occasional breeze. “I’ve been sitting here for a few days. I was in some kind of trance.”

“Sure. Whatever. There’s lots more to see and I want to get to the pistachio store back in Alamogordo before it closes. Let’s move.”

“I saw a Rattlesnake. I talked to a Rattlesnake…” She looked at me, her eyebrows in the I am getting annoyed arch.

“Stop with the snakes. You know I don’t like them. I don’t want to hear snake stories. I don’t want to talk about snakes. I don’t want to think about snakes. No Snakes!”

I looked at her. My mouth stuck agape. A story crouched on my tongue ready to spring into being. Because of her growing annoyance, I was torn between sharing my experience and really pissing her off. She said there were only a few minutes between me climbing in the rocks and her walking around the copse and asking me to continue our walk. That was impossible. I watch multiple moons arc overhead. I defended myself.

“It’s not a story! It’s true. I talked to a Rattlesnake. I have proof. Look at the bite marks on my hand and neck.” I showed her my right palm. But there was no evidence of penetration. I rubbed the area of the bite and felt two hard masses beneath the surface almost an inch inches apart. I reached for my neck. Again, no wounds. There I also felt the masses but these were three inches apart. Was Snake’s head really that huge? Could I have healed that fast?

“If you don’t stop talking about snakes, I am going back to the car. Stop now! It’s not funny.” The arched eyebrows morphed into the I’m really pissed face. If I didn’t stop now, for now, the red mist would descend and the rest of the day would be lost.

“What time does your Fitbit say?”, she asked.

I tapped it twice to bring the screen to life. “Umm, 1:20 pm”

“When we pulled into the lot I asked you what time it was right before we saw the roadrunner. You said it was just past 12:30 pm. We have been here for less than an hour. Now let’s hurry along before that group catches up to us.”

There are times in life my dreams feel more real than reality. And I have been known to unconsciously appropriate other’s stories and weave their way into my life narrative believing I was the original actor in the play. Did I just create my own story? Did I acquire a narrative form one of the many books I’ve read on Indian lore? No answers now. For the sake of my peace and our harmony, I opted to keep quiet and return to searching for petroglyphs. There were a great many to see.

Coincidences

After our hike, I stepped into the porta john to pee. The day was hot and very dry with humidity in the single digits. My pee was approaching jello. I, we, needed to get some fluids. The water in the car was much too hot to cool us down but I drank some anyway. Hydration is more important than the temperature of a drink. But, where to get a cold drink? I remembered, on the way in, we passed a trading post. It was the last landmark before we turned off the highway and onto the street leading to the monument. We stopped there for some cold beverages. Irene also had a cup of hot coffee. Hot coffee on a hot day? Why?.

The trading post was an art gallery specializing in Native arts and crafts, many made by the owner’s husband. The paintings and sculptures were nice. The pottery gorgeous. Sadly, we have no place in our home for additional trinkets. The Jewelry was over the top expensive. My favorite piece was the 20 inch Kokopelli kachina. The goods, including $275 kachina, were fairly pricey and too big to squeeze into our already bulging luggage. There were coffee mugs. These were in my price range but we already have a cabinet full.

I continued to wander the store drinking a frigid Dr. Pepper, contemplating a second can, while the coffee was brewing. And what do I find hanging on a carousel tree? Medicine bags. A bunch of them. They were not fancy. No beading. No porcupine quills. No decoration of any sort. Just simple bags in various colors with a matching leather cord so it can be worn around the neck. There were white, shades of brown, cream, and one, just one the color of sunrise. It was buttery soft like so was likely deerskin.

Medicine Bag

I checked the price tag on the bag. $10. I decided to purchase it as much for the simple elegance, for the nostalgia of the bag I lost, for the words of snake still hissing in my ears that I would need a medicine bag in the near future. There was one more test. I threw it over my head. It hung exactly over my heart.

Coincidence? I could go with coincidence.

I don’t believe life is a series of random accidents without meaning. Nor do I ascribe to a belief that life is governed by a panel of gods arranging interactions designed to move us along a predestined path. Sometimes a coincidence is a coincidence and sometimes a coincidence is part of the bigger picture.

I see coincidence as organic. Life, all forms, every rock, tree, animal, human are part of a collective consciousness. Earth is the massive brain. The inhabitants are cells working in concert. As antibodies assemble to ward off disease so, too, there are interactions between individuals to ensure sustainability of the Collective Consciousness.

This, however, I chalked up to mere coincidence.

We spent a good part of the next day at White Sands. A few hours were used for a five mile, early morning hike where we saw bright white dunes but barely any vegetation let alone a fat stalk yucca. As we drove around the monument and hiked the shorter trails, I allowed my eyes to drift over every yucca, made forays toward those looking promising from a distance. No stalk was more than an inch in diameter. We stayed until moon the moon rose large over the horizon. I kept looking, searching. Not one stalk was anywhere close to the size Rattlesnake told me to look for. I failed. One simple task and I failed.

We left the next morning for El Paso. It was another sunny day with wispy clouds overhead. The nearer we came to Texas the fewer the yuccas decorated the landscape. Then about 3 miles from the border, I saw what looked like a massive yucca with a long skirt. I pulled over. A little too fast for the drastic change in momentum woke my wife.

Yucca Flower

I hurried out of the car, ran over, and grabbed the stalk. My fingers did not touch. There was a full 2.5-inch gap between my middle finger and my thumb. I reached high for a flower in full bloom and was struck by a few needles from the spiked leaves. I rubbed my leg. My fingers came back sticky with blood.

Yet another coincidence? Two in such a short time may be too many to be accidental. I would have to do some probability math when I got home and calculate the odds of this being happenstance or an indicator of nonrandom events.

To be safe, I stepped back, placed my palms together and, as Rattlesnake had instructed, made peace with Yucca. “Grandmother, I am here to borrow a couple of flowers as instructed by Rattlesnake. I thank you for this lovely gift.” This time I grabbed the flowers without incident and stuffed both into my medicine bag.

The Phone Call

Two days after we returned home to Chicago, Irene received a late night phone call. There was a family death in the Philippines. We need to flying out in a less than a week to attend the funeral.

This last coincidence convinced me my time with Rattlesnake was true and his spoken words were of future days to be. When I packed for the Philippines trip, I made sure to include the medicine bag with the yucca flowers. And I wondered if the worm had turned.

Talking Rocks in New Mexico There are few situations more frightening than sitting comfortably with your back against a smooth rock on a gloriously hot, dry, and sunny day breathing pristine mountain air without a worry until hearing an agitated buzzing and realizing you are face to face and within striking distance of a rattlesnake.

#Petroglyphs #Rattlesnake

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