#its also alongside a nice bike trail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lelenoir · 4 years

Text

pairings: childhood friend!dong sicheng x reader [ft. wong yukhei]

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: wherein sicheng always thought that he would spend the rest of his life with you. only to be smacked with the bitter truth.

dedicated to: engel @jenoir, the no to my noren.

inspired by: the song it's over, isn't it? from steven universe

note: hellooo finally got this out after rotting away for days hehe. anyways i hope you like it!! it'll probably be my last fic for a while since school and stuff and also my other blog. this was supposed to be a small drabble but i guess the universe had other plans KSKSK

DONG SICHENG ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

It was always written in his stars, always engraved in stone and he always believed that the moment he laid eyes on you he was struck by Cupid's bow and arrow. Of course, he never noticed this until later on.

It happened in your local playground. The tall---at least in his standard---five year old boy buzzing with joy as he rode his bike across the street. His hair flowed freely with the wind as he fought the urge to raise his hands up. Legs pedalling as if he was in a race against the fastest cyclists around the globe. The world blurred in his vision, pure bliss coursing through his veins. As a toddler, he didn't want that moment to end.

Unable to contain it any longer, the boy slowly let go of the handles, ghosting the rubber for a few more moments until he finally decided to let it go. For him, in his toddler state of mind, nothing could compare to the feeling he felt that moment. The street of his small childhood town zooming all around him as he let the world's breath engulf him. It looked like what Luke Skywalker saw whenever he drove a spaceship in that movie his brother always watched.

The moment only lasted for five seconds. It all happened so fast. One minute he was on top of the world, the next he was tumbling down fast. The ground hitting him hard. His hands were quick to hold on to his wounded knee as soon as he landed, eyes closed from the pain and a strong hiss leaving his lips. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched the blood on his exposed flesh. He groaned when he tried to touch it.

"That was stupid." Three simple words. One simple statement. And you had his whole attention on you. Eyes wide from shock but you mistake it as confusion. "What you did. That was stupid." You repeated as if he was dumb. A dull look rested on your eyes as you looked down on him. It took him by surprise when he saw your extended arms in front of him. He couldn't help but gawk at the gesture. "What? Aren't you gonna take it?"

Slowly, he did. Gulping slightly as he stood up, wincing once he felt the sting of his wound. "It's just a graze. Nothing serious." You spoke up once again. His eyes looking towards your face, only to see you staring at his knee. "Do you need help walking?" You asked, finally meeting his gaze.

He was speechless. He'd never talked to anyone that wasn't his brother or his classmates. He rarely ever talked to the girls in his class, in fear of the disease his brother dubbed as cooties.

"You okay?" You quirk an eyebrow at him, making him flinch up in alertness. His hands felt slightly clammy as he clenched and unclenched them.

"Yeah…" he trailed off, voice barely a whisper. He saw you break into a smile. It shook him to the core. Especially with how intimidating you've presented yourself to be. He didn't know why but he wanted to see it again.

"So… walk?" You asked once more. It was like a switch had been turned on inside of you. Sicheng felt a bit confused on what to feel about the current change in aura as he slightly nodded his head in reply. You hummed, nodding your head once as you made your way to his fallen bike. You pulled it up with such ease. Even he had a difficult time carrying the heavy thing. You steadied the bike with your hands, walking to him as you let the bike trail next to you. "Where do you live?"

Sicheng should've felt embarrassed. After all, a girl, of all people, was walking him home. Him. It should've been the other way around. He felt like an utter loser having tears threatening to spill from his eyes while a girl carried his bike for him. He sighed, preparing himself for his brother's endless teasing.

"What's your name?" He spoke up, halfway through the walk. So far none of you thought of initiating into another conversation, basking in each other's company in the form of silence. "I'm Sicheng, Dong Sicheng."

You didn't even flinch at his question. "Y/n" you replied, eyes never leaving the path ahead until you turned your head to look at him for a second before turning back once again. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n." Maybe it was his pea sized brain or just his lack of comprehension but you clearly didn't want to start a conversation. "What school do you go to? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

"I'm homeschooled." You answered. "My mom teaches me." Sicheng gaped at the revelation, never ever meeting someone like you.

"That's so cool!" He exclaimed. "I wish I was homeschooled. That way I won't have to wake up too early just to get to school."

You only hummed in reply, ready to fall back into your comfortable silence. Sicheng suddenly gasped. "That means you don't get to see other kids!" He says it like it was the biggest breakthrough of the century. "Doesn't it get very lonely?" He laid his head to the side in question.

"Not really," you shrugged, "I'm kind of used to it."

He gasped once again. "You shouldn't though."

"'Life isn't always what you expect it to be.' is what my mom told me a lot. I guess I just preferred to accept it rather than dwell on it too much." You explained, keeping your expression as undecipherable as possible. It drove five year old Sicheng's brain crazy.

"Then I'll be your friend." He declared, pointing his thumb on his chest. "Heck, I'll be your best friend!" He shouts joyfully.

Your eyes widened at his words, not really used to such enthusiasm. Still, a small smile cracked on your features once again. He didn't know if you saw it but Sicheng felt his eyes beam up at the sight of it. You nodded your head. "Okay."

A proud smile adorned the little boy's face, not minding his previous concerns as he walked alongside you. The wound still hurt from walking but his mind seemed to have flown elsewhere, its current occupation slightly numbing the pain of his nerves.

You were the coolest girl he's ever met.

DONG SICHENG LOVED YOU UNKNOWINGLY.

Barefaced and a little tired, you laid your body down on the grass next to him. You sighed, eyes up the stars as Sicheng took it all in. Not the night sky but you. A content smile on his features as he indulged himself with your presence.

"First day of school…" you breathed out. "I wonder how everything would turn out."

He noticed the way your fingers toyed amongst themselves, saw how your breathing slowly turned erratic. In all the years Sicheng has known you, this is the first time he's ever seen you this nervous. Tomorrow was the start of highschool for the both of you. For Sicheng, he wasn't nervous. Maybe a small bit but that was normal as first day jitters. You, on the other hand, were a different story. It was your very first time coming to school after being sheltered by your mom for so long. Sure she never intended it and it was mostly your refusal to go to school that made her teach you in the first place, but none of that helped calm your nerves.

A billion questions rang in your head. A billion possibilities playing along with it. You were in a whirlpool of your own thoughts and you were gasping for air.

Luckily, Sicheng was there to pull you out. His hand intertwining with yours as he drew circles to calm you down. He knew that always calmed you. He felt your body relax next to him. A good sign. He smiled at his small accomplishment.

"Don't worry," he tightened his hold on your palms but not to the point where it would hurt. Only to make you feel his presence more. "I'll be right here."

Highschool rolled in as normally as it could. You were nervous as you walked down the halls but you kept your face relaxed. Sicheng's presence next to you adds up to your ease as he tries to tell you as much as he can about school. Still, knowing Sicheng, he wasn't really as social and loud as he was with you. In these halls he tried to put up a mask for your sake. He smiled at unfamiliar people, nodded his head whenever they greeted him and even said a few 'hi's and 'hello's just to ease your doubt.

With that you smiled. And god he would never get tired of that sight. For a moment the two of you didn't move. For a moment it was just you and him. For a moment he let himself fall for you. He wished he could stay there with you, not a care in the world as he held on to your gaze. He thanked the stars for bringing you to him.

Sadly, even that moment had to end.

He was never one for crowds but seeing your guarded position and tense posture made him want to assure you that everything was going to be okay. He offered you an assuring smile which you returned gratefully.

The bell rang, snapping the both of you back to reality. He took your hand in his, drawing circles on it like he always did. "Your class is here. If you need me I'm right across your room." He said pointing towards the wooden door a few feet away. Just then, he enveloped both his hands around yours. "I'm always here, okay?"

You sighed in relief. A firm smile on your lips as you nodded. "Okay."

With that, he lets you go. He stepped back from you, waiting for you to walk in. You straightened up your posture before turning around. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever was on the other side of the door. Counting the seconds in your head before walking inside.

Sicheng smiled proudly at your back. He waited until you turned to your left towards the chairs before he too went on his way.

You've watched plenty of teen movies to know that you should never pick the seat in front. You looked around the unfamiliar faces of the people in the room. Some eyed you curiously while most had their head on their arms, presumably asleep. You couldn't blame them, it was the first period of the first day of school. All those times running around or sleeping in during the summer before suddenly getting thrusted into school was probably annoying.

You claimed your spot by the second to the last chair by the window. You rested your cheek on the palm of your hand as you looked out, admiring the sky and the gray roads.

"Hey there," a voice spoked up. You lifted your head to see a boy. He had a big beaming smile on his face as he settled his things on the chair next to you. "I'm Xiaojun."

You watched him curiously, pursing your lips for a second before turning your gaze back to the window. "Y/n."

DONG SICHENG REALISED HE LOVED YOU WAY TOO LATE.

He often wondered if he could change it. Always counted the different ways, the different scenarios and outcomes everything would've led to. He spent many nights figuring out how he got to this path. This path that he desperately wanted to stray from. Alas, he could never. Life was a road barricaded by formidable iron walls. Once you step on to one path, the other one closes, locking you in.

He waited for you in the halls, by the door of your Psych class. The both of you were in college now. He shifted his footing before turning to the small window on the door, peeking for just a glimpse of you.

It felt weird. He thought to himself, watching you smile from ear to ear at whatever your classmates were saying. It felt like only yesterday when he met you. Closed off and very reserved. It felt so surreal not being the only person to have broken down your walls. For Sicheng, he wasn't jealous. The opposite actually. He felt proud. He loved seeing you with the company of others and loved the way you managed to grow.

Just then, you met his eyes. He smiled, lifting his hand up in a small wave. And there it is. That smile. The one only he could cause. The smile that was reserved only for him. He felt his heart pound in his chest.

One of your classmates pulled your focus away from him. Your features reverted to that easy smile you gave everyone else.

Sicheng felt his cheeks warm at the thought, his feet turning to rest his back on the wall next to your classroom door. He sighed, closing his eyes. He could see your smile as he did so. Flashing before his eyes like a Polaroid trapped in time. Forever displaying your face with that smile he loved so much.

The bell rang loudly across the corridors, making him jump a bit before composing himself. He felt so nervous today for some reason. Something inside him was commanding every bit of his body to leap out. He shook the nerves of his fingertips, taking the time to compose himself.

He waited for you to come out, almost bouncing in joy when you did. "You seem happy…" you tell him, "what's up?"

"Well I just finished all my assignments, got a high grade in an essay I stayed up for, and managed to get the last cheese burger at lunch today. All in all it's not a bad day." He answered cheekily. You rolled your eyes at the response but maintained a lighthearted expression. You smiled softly, the both of you maintaining a slow pace as you walked away from the door.

"Y/n!" A voice called out. You were quick to turn to the voice, Sicheng mimicking the action subconsciously. What greeted you was the sight of a tall panting boy. Sweat on the sides of his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Thank heavens I caught up to you."

Lucas lifted his head up, a playful smile on his face as he looked up at you. Sicheng felt his breath get caught on his throat. A nervous and unsettling feeling resting on the pit of his stomach. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Lucas! What a surprise." Sicheng snapped his head towards you, a subtle look of disbelief as he noticed your smile. It wasn't like the others and it wasn't the one that was for him. This was different. Your cheeks were tucked to the highest point below your eyes, face beaming with delight. Happier. Lucas wasn't any different either. A small yet noticeable pink dust spread all across his face. His gaze focused solely on you as if in a trance.

Lucas breathed to his nose, bowing his head a bit before returning back to you. "Are we still going on Friday?" He asked, hopeful.

Sicheng could visibly see you elate with his words. His jaw clenched subconsciously as your whole face grew brighter. No. His palms grew hotter on his sides, his heart pounding nervously as he held on to your next words.

"Sure." And just like that, he felt his heart ache. His previous mood going down in the slumps in an instant. Still, he held his head up high. His face stoic and unwavering. From afar you wouldn't have noticed the storm in his eyes.

"That's great," He heard Lucas sigh in relief. They make eye contact for a brief moment, both of them narrowing at one another before breaking it abruptly. You fail to notice the quick exchange, wrapping your arms around Sicheng's and already pulling him away.

"See you on Friday!" You called out over your shoulder.

Right. Sicheng shouldn't fret. He is your best friend. He's known you ever since you caught him that fateful day with his bicycle. Lucas stood nothing against him when it came to you. He was confident. The air around him lightened as you rested your head on whatever part of his arm you could reach.

"I missed hanging out with you." You whispered. He knew you weren't looking at him. It was a habit of yours to avoid his gaze whenever you grow sentimental. "You're my best friend yet I feel like you're worlds away from me now." You continued. "We're okay, right?"

Sicheng turned to look at you, watching your face contort to a frown. He sighed. He shifted your bodies so the two of you faced each other. He took his arm out of yours before resting both of his palms on your cheeks. "We're okay. Okay?" You smiled sheepishly at his words, nodding your head. He pushed you to his chest, hugging you tightly. You could slightly hear his heartbeat relax, making you sigh. "You're my best friend. We've been through hell and back together. I don't think anything would change that."

He's fine. He assures himself. There had been plenty of guys before Lucas. Plenty that you have downright rejected: Xiaojun from highschool, Hendery during summer and many others after. He shouldn't be worried. In the many years he has known you, he was sure the two of you would end up together. He just needed the right moment.

Sicheng was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. In fact, you've never actually seen him romantically with a girl. But whenever you felt down in the dumps, he was sure to give his all to you. He'd wrap you up close, shower you with attention and do everything he can to make you feel better. At the same time, Sicheng was also a very emotional kid. Oftentimes it was he who cried on your shoulders and you'd be there to listen. You were each other's support system. The very rock that keeps you grounded. From childhood and now as you both walk wherever.

This was the first time it began to collapse.

He felt the air get knocked out of his lungs, watching as the scene unfolded right before his eyes; the gleeful smile on your face, the mirroring adoration in both your gazes, and finally a chaste but unconcealable kiss. The obvious buzz of love and its first stages oozing out of the two of you and Sicheng could do nothing but watch it all happen.

Friday. He never thought he would hate a day like it. The day before the relaxation of the weekends. The day you used to come to his house for a movie marathon. The day you went back to him with the happiest smile he's ever seen on you. The day he finally lost everything.

Wong Yukhei. He clicked his tongue at the name. Jealousy growing in the deepest depths of his gut, eyes green and angry. Seeing his stupid smile and the noticeable look of triumph on his features. The boy holding you close. Then he looked at you; hair a mess because of the wind with eyes as bright as the sun.

DONG SICHENG NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU.

It was impossible. A scientific improbability. Not when you still come over during the weekends. Not when you still give him that smile. Not when you hold him so close that for a moment he fools himself to thinking it was all real. Not even when he raised his glass.

He glared at the small box on his hands. Tears brimming his eyes. He felt like he just crashed his bike all over again. Only this time, you weren't there to walk him home.

"A toast," he started, the low baritone of his voice grabbing everyone's attention, "to the newly wed couple, Y/n & Lucas."

It felt painful. Perhaps, the strongest pain he's ever felt. Years ago, he never saw this coming. He was fine. He was fine with all the other men that came into your life. Mostly because he knew no one could've compared to him and the bond you shared. He knew all your favorite movies, all your pet peeves, and everything that made you scared. Yet, he wasn't the one standing by your side right now. He wasn't the groom, the man you were going to spend your life with. He wasn't that.

"It's a miracle how you've managed to put up with her." It was a joke. "Lord knows I barely could." And another one. "Still, she's a very great person." That was real. "And I'm glad she's found someone to spend the rest of her days with." He was not. "We've spent the majority of our lives together as best friends. The day you helped me with my bike was the best day of my life. Lucas, you better take care of her or else." He warned jokingly, glaring playfully at the boy as he chuckled in reply and nodded his head. Sicheng could barely hold it in. "To the Wongs!"

And that was the end. A series of cheers and holler followed right after. You smiled at him and he could do nothing but return it. He watched you turn to Lucas and beam brighter. He sighed.

He wandered out, past the crowd of overjoyed relatives and friends. He pushed the balcony doors open, letting it fall to a close. The first drops of his sorrows slipping down carelessly and he did nothing to wipe them off. The wine in his glass reflected his pitiful expression and all he could do was stare before putting it down hastily. He didn't like the sight. It was over. It was all over. Isn't it?

He felt a strong pang in his chest and he found it hard to breath. He looked over disdainfully at the floor, fist clenched to his sides.

Why can't I move on?

117 notes · View notes

agentbarton12 · 4 years

Text

cause wherever you are is home

summary: basically what happened when max and lucas went home together in suzie, do you copy?

a/n: there is a criminally low amount of fics with lumax as the main ship so here is my minor contribution to rectify this. title from ‘home’ by catie turner. also posted on ao3

warnings: fluff

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

This is not how Max wanted to be spending her Saturday afternoon.

Sheʼd rather be getting ice cream with Lucas, playing video games with Lucas, doing anything else with Lucas. Yet, here she was, at the top of this hill, assembling a dumb machine to contact a girl that probably doesnʼt exist.

But, Lucas is with her so it’s not all bad. (Which she never said if he asks, okay?)

Itʼs not all boring, sheʼll admit. Despite him annoying her, Lucas does make the entire ordeal more enjoyable for her and Will is actually fun to hang around with when heʼs not whining about playing D&D.

At one point, they get Dustin to forget about his walkie-talkie and teach them all the dumb war cries he learnt at Camp Know Where.

She doesnʼt bother to hide her accusatory look when Will asks where the water was.

By the time the sun had gone down, Max started to get more than a little cranky. They had moved to lie down, with Lucas and her both using his backpack as a headrest. “Dustin, come on!” she snaps exasperatedly, after the boy in question continued to try and reach Suzie. “She’s not there.”

Lucas, who seems to be as fed up as she is, exclaims, “Suzie doesn’t exist! No girl is that perfect.”

Max sits up at that and turns to Lucas with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so?” She watches as he sputters nonsense trying to backpedal and correct his blunder. It amuses her, and Max won’t deny that she enjoys making Lucas squirm. “Relax I’m just teasing. I’m obviously perfect, and Dustin is obviously lying.”

She stands up and dusts herself off. The redhead holds her hand out for Lucas, which he grabs and pulls himself up. As they’re walking down the hill, she hears Will call out after them. “Where are you going?”

“Home!” Max yells back without missing a beat. There’s a small, lazy smile on Lucas’ face that she doesn’t notice. She feels a tug on her arm and slows down to find that Lucas has stopped walking.

He has a mischievous grin on his face. “Race you the rest of the way?”

A smirk works its way onto Max’s face. “You’re on.”

She doesn’t give him time to react, just releases his hand and sprints down the hill. She can vaguely hear his indignant cries about how she’s cheating as he tries to catch up to her. Max lets out a hearty laugh, feels it in her belly as Lucas whoops and hollers behind her. The wind is beating against her face, blowing her hair back.

Thereʼs an unmistakable grin on her face when she makes it to the bottom. It only takes Lucas another five seconds to join her at the bottom of the hill, and when he does, he’s a heaving mess. He’s crouched over, hands on his knees, as he tries to catch his breath.

“I win,” Max gloats, beaming at him brightly.

He waves her off. “Yeah, yeah, I let you win,” Lucas reveals once his breathing has gone down to normal.

Max crosses her arms across her chest in an intimidating stance. “Oh, you let me?”

Lucas lasts a good three seconds before he cracks under the intensity of her glare. “Okay, okay, I surrender.” He raises his arms defensively. “You won.”

“That’s what I thought.” She turns on her heel to walk in the direction of where they left their bikes and her skateboard, and Lucas wastes no time in grabbing hold of her hand again.

They walk in silence for a while until Lucas pipes up and asks, “Hey, do you really think Dustin is lying?”

Max shrugs, still studying their joined hands. “I don’t know. It’s fun to tease him either way, though,” she adds, looking up to give her boyfriend a cheeky grin. He laughs and nods, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. “But I must say, aside from you drinking all the water by yourself—”

“I offered you some!”

“—It was kinda nice. Watching the stars, I mean. With you.” Her voice trails off at the end in embarrassment, ducking her head so Lucas can’t see her blush.

When he doesn’t say anything for a while, she musters up all the courage she can to peak up at him and finds that he’s already looking at her. The smile on his face is bright enough to rival that of the streetlight they’ve stopped under, and it causes something to flutter in her chest.

“We should do that sometime. Stargaze. Together.”

Max nods along, unable to fight the grin that works its way on her face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

When they reach their things, Lucas lets go of her hand and rushes forward to what she assumes is his bike. She can’t help but feel a little disappointed at the loss of contact. Max finds him clutching her skateboard to his chest, bottom lip stuck out childishly.

“What are you doing?” she asks incredulously. She moves to pick his bike up from the ground for him, and watches him with her head tilted.

“Can I ride it?”

Max’s face blanks. “You’re kidding.” “I’d like for us both to get there in one piece, thank you.”

Lucas puffs his chest out indignantly. “I’ve been practicing!”

“With what?”

Max looks at him expectantly waiting for an answer, to which he supplies after a moment’s hesitation. “Okay, so I taped a couple cans to the bottom of a piece of wood I found outside—”

“Oh my god.”

“—but it’s practically the same thing!”

“In what universe!”

Lucas is still looking at her pouting with pleading eyes and she knows her resolve is going to crumble. “You’ll fall,” she worries, in a final attempt to change his mind.

“You’ll catch me,” he says shrugging easily. As though he’s never been more sure about anything.

Sighing heavily, Max gives in. She knows there’s no way she can say no to him, not when he’s looking at her like that. “Fine.” Lucas punches the air in excitement and runs into the middle of the road. He places the board down and tentatively steps onto it.

“Just push yourself forward,” she instructs, standing off to the side on the sidewalk. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

“I’m pushing, I’m pushing,” Lucas grunts as he pushes himself off the road. When he gets the hang of it, he cheers loudly. “Whoo, I’ve got it!” he yells loudly and Max chuckles despite herself, smiling wide for no one in particular. The cool night air nips at her exposed skin, but she can’t help but feel impossibly warm being here with Lucas right now.

The dark skinned boy skates farther down the street and Max rolls his bike alongside her as she jogs to keep up with him.

In his excitement, Lucas forgets that this is his first time skating and turns his head to look back at her. “Look, Iʼm Tony Hawk!”

He leans a little too much to the left and veers in the direction of the sidewalk. “Watch out!” Max warns and Lucasʼ eyes widen as he looks out in front of him.

“Aah!” he screams as he goes flying into a pile of trash bags sitting on the sidewalk.

“Lucas!” Max drops the bike and rushes to his side. “Are you okay?”

He grunts as he rolls over to lie on his back. “My knee,” he croaks out. A little dramatically, Max thinks, considering he landed on a relatively soft surface. “Can you kiss it better?”

The redhead rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the ground. Lucas laughs loudly, evidently proud of himself. “You smell like garbage,” Max deadpans as she dusts herself off. He lets out an affronted “hey!” and picks himself up. “I told you youʼd fall.”

Lucas pouts. “You didnʼt catch me.”

“You canʼt skate,” she fires back.

“Youʼll teach me,” he says, again as though he was absolutely sure about it. Max supposes he has every right to be.

“Yeah, maybe,” she says, going to fetch her skateboard from where it was lying on the edge of the street. “Cʼmon, letʼs go home.”

This time, as Lucas is picking his bike up holding both the handlebars so he can pull it along with him, Max can see the soft smile playing on his lips.

“What are you smiling about, stalker?” Sheʼs teasing

“You said ‘home’.”

“Yeah?”

He sighs a little when he notices that she doesnʼt understand what heʼs getting at. “No, I mean, like, you didnʼt say my house. You just said home.” Then, quieter, “Do you think of it as your home?”

The thing is, Max doesnʼt have the best reference material for what ʼhomeʼ should be. But Lucas is good, and safe, and the best thing sheʼs had in a long time.

And she supposes thatʼs pretty similar.

“Maybe,” is what she says. Nervously, head ducked and eyes trained on the road in front of her. “Just… with you, I guess.” She can feel her face flush and though she canʼt see it, she knows sheʼs blushing furiously.

“Aww,” her boyfriend croons, “youʼre almost as red as your hair.”

“Shut up,” Max mumbles without any real bite.

Lucas shakes his head, smile stretched across his face. “No I wonʼt, because Max Mayfield likes me!”

Her face burns. “Oh my god.”

“I donʼt blame you. Iʼm kind of irresistible.”

Max rolls her eyes at that. “Oh, really?”

Lucas nods enthusiastically, and Max just shakes her head in disbelief, a fond smile on her lips. “I like you too, by the way.”

“I figured,” the redhead jokes, trying to add some levity to the heavy atmosphere around them.

“And youʼre my home, too.” Lucasʼ smile is so bright, she swears it blinds her momentarily.

Maxʼs heart swells with something sheʼs pretty sure is love and she nudges him with her shoulder. “I never said that.”

Lucas waves her off. “Technicalities.”

“Race you home?” she challenges, more comfortable with the prospect and watches as Lucasʼ smile grows impossibly wider.

“Prepare to lose, Madmax!”

That night, when sheʼs staring up at the ceiling on the spare mattress in Ericaʼs room, Max decides to create a home for herself.

It’s when Lucas and her reach the garage, arguing over who made it there first; Mrs Sinclair greeting them both with a hug and a kiss on the cheek; Lucas holding her hand under the table as they all take turns recounting what they did that day.

She doesnʼt have that much knowledge to go off of when it comes to home. But what she does know is that whatever it is, Lucas is pretty damn close. (Donʼt tell him she said that.)

#lucas sinclair #max mayfield #stranger things #lucas x max #lumax #fanfiction #my writing #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #el hopper #netflix #stranger things 3 #st #st 3

58 notes · View notes

deardejun · 4 years

Text

cherry-flavored kisses | xdj

word count: 2015

genre: soft! all cute things

The sun sets earlier in autumn and, while you weren't consciously aware of it, the lack of daylight had certainly been taking a toll on your spirits. Arriving home from class often left you with the desire to get into pajamas straight away and cozy up in front of the TV, any possibility of heading back out ultimately out the window. It didn't have the best effect on your mood either, as somebody who usually spent the vast majority of their free time exploring the city. Being cooped up in your tiny apartment was starting to make you just a little bit, for lack of a better word, crazy.

While it may not have been noticeable to you personally, your boyfriend was acutely aware of the changes in your behavior. Xiaojun always had his way of reading you like your thoughts were displayed in a little bubble above your head, to the point that you had cracked a joke or two to him about clairvoyance. "You're an open book, you know," he'd retort with his honey-smooth voice.

There was a long mental list of entities you wanted to thank for bringing Xiaojun into your life, but at the top of the list, highlighted and in bold print, was fate. How you ended up in an apartment in one of the world’s most beautiful cities with this boy couldn't have been anything less than the work of some sort of higher power. The two of you were both transfer students, both from completely different hemispheres of the globe, and who knew that Xiaojun arriving late to his first class of his freshman year, attracting the attention of everyone in the room, would have had such a massive butterfly effect?

You can still remember the exchange like it was yesterday; Xiaojun was quick to apologize to the professor for his tardiness, turning his head to assess the floor plan ahead of him. And oh, how lucky it was that the seat directly adjacent to yours was the only one left unoccupied 15 minutes after the lecture had begun. Most people would have sat quietly and pulled out their surely overpriced laptop, but Xiaojun wasn't most people. After dumping his bag onto the floor and withdrawing an already well-loved spiral notebook, he muttered a swear to himself. A whole minute ticked by before he swallowed down whatever was holding him back, and he tapped you lightly on the arm. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra pen, would you?"

Over the course of the semester, asking for a pen had evolved into asking for your usual coffee order, and then into asking for your phone number, then finally into asking whether or not you had any plans after class and wouldn't mind accompanying him for lunch. Strictly in the name of studying. Absolutely not a date. He stumbled over his words when he emphasized that point to you, however, and you were certainly one to notice.

As time kept passing before your eyes, you had gone on countless not-dates with Xiaojun. It'd probably never cease to entertain you how his ears still tinted pink when you brought back the memory. "I know my good looks can get me far in this world, but I didn't want to be too forward, okay?"

"You are greatly misusing your power then, love," you'd respond. Often you wondered if things would have progressed more quickly between the pair of you, had he been more forward. There really was just something about the way Xiaojun struggled to get the classroom door open on mornings that his hands were overflowing with your extensive Starbucks order (that he never got wrong). His nature brought a warmth that you had never felt before, and it kept you coming back for more. (Read: love. It was love you were feeling.)

So, there you were. Three years and counting. You were reaching the end of your undergraduate years and without each other's presence, you both questioned whether or not you would have gotten this far.

It was a Thursday afternoon like any other, the aura of mid-October drawing you back behind closed doors much earlier than you would have preferred. "I'm home," you called into the empty space. You weren't sure if Xiaojun was back at the apartment yet, for his schedule had bitten him in the ass this semester.

To your pleasant surprise you heard his voice, harmonious like an angel’s, call back to you from the bedroom. "Just a second!"

Just a second later, Xiaojun appeared in all of his bed-headed glory, sweatpants clad and smiling. He shut the door behind him on his way over to you. You opened your arms as he approached and he was quick to embrace you, holding you tightly against his body. “How was class?” he asked into your shoulder, not ready to let you go just yet.

“Tiring,” you sighed.

“I know, baby.” He withdrew his frame from yours only slightly, giving himself a better view of your features. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear gently before speaking again. "I've got a surprise for you. Hopefully it'll help lift your spirits up."

"What does that mea-" Before you could even finish he was gone, disappearing back into the bedroom.

There was a brief silence before Xiaojun reappeared, poking his head around the doorframe. "Come on, check it out."

Approaching slowly, you pushed the door until it was fully open, your jaw falling slack at the view before you.

"I know it's been a while since we've gone, but I thought maybe it'd be nice to unwind a little." Two bicycles leaned propped up on their stands, accompanied by an overfilled basket resting at the foot of your bed. It didn't take much explaining, you and Xiaojun had gone on more picnic dates than you could count. It started as a shy gesture, a polite invitation, as many of your firsts were. But over the course of time you had made a routine out of it, always looking forward to the end of a long, draining week when you could go enjoy the scent of flowers and listen to the birds sing alongside the person you loved most.

It was another aspect of your life that you had started missing more and more as you fell out of the habit without even realizing so. A smile crept across your visage at the repetition of the reminder that Xiaojun really did know you better than you knew yourself, and no matter the obstacle you were going up against, he always knew how to bring you back down to earth.

"Well, let's not lose any more daylight, yeah?" Your fingers tightened around the worn in bicycle handles, kicking up its stand with a beaming grin.

Realistically, the park was only a short walk away from your apartment, but Xiaojun was far too much of a romantic for that, so you carried the basket down the stairs to the street as he (oh so glamorously) maneuvered both of the bikes behind you. Once you were both outside, taking your first breaths of clean, fresh air, you passed the basket to him and he hung it securely between the handlebars.

"Good evening, Kun," you greeted the shop owner warmly, surprised to see him collecting the chalkboard from the bakery's front entrance at this hour. "Closing up shop early?"

"Just this once," he responded lightly, tucking the board under his arm. "It's the wife's birthday today. Her cupcakes should be ready to be iced any minute, and then I'm out. Was there anything you wanted to grab before you go?" Living above the little shop naturally made the pair of you quite regular visitors.

"Thank you, but I think we're fully stocked for today."

"Actually," Xiaojun chimed in, reaching into his pocket, "Do you have any cherry scones left?"

Lifting his finger in a "one moment" gesture, Kun retreated into the sweet-smelling haven, reappearing with a small brown bag in his grasp. "Exactly two. You came at just the right time." He extended his arms, offering the bag to Xiaojun.

"Thank you," Xiaojun spoke, taking the bag and stowing it away safely with the other goodies. "How much?"

"Nonsense, you can have it." Bewilderment must have been painted on both of your faces, so through laughter Kun continued, "It's on me, really. They'd be getting thrown away otherwise anyway."

Pocketing his wallet, Xiaojun smiled widely at him. "Thank you so much." He mounted his bike and started pedaling. "Tell your wife we said happy birthday!"

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you grabbed a few bills from your own pocket and shoved them into Kun's hands in the name of a tip, and then you were on your way.

Maybe you were a romantic too. Long ago you had tried to make a practice out of seeing beauty in all things, no matter how mundane, but there was just something about the way Xiaojun's blonde hair danced with the wind. That, in addition to his caramel skin and relaxed grey tee, created an exquisite palette with the leaves falling around you.

Before you knew it, you had arrived, and at your convenience it didn't seem that too many people had decided to enjoy the park's ambience on that particular day. You left your bicycles at the rack near the entrance, and took the trail towards the open field on foot. Xiaojun didn't skip a beat between collecting the basket in one hand and yours in the other. You grinned. He was nothing if not a gentleman.

There was an oak tree that seemed to stand what must have been a mile high, a miracle of nature that always left you breathless. Not only was it incomparable in beauty, but it was also the home of your first kiss with the boy whose hand was laced within your own. He led you there wordlessly, withdrawing his signature checkered blanket from the basket and spreading it across the grass beneath you.

"I didn't have too much time," he began, settling down on the gentle fabric and opening up the basket, finally revealing its contents to you. "But I made sandwiches!"

"Sandwiches are perfect." You sat beside him, grabbing one of the two carefully-wrapped meals.

Nothing was said over the next few moments. Not that much had to be, anyway; you were beyond content with appreciating the way Xiaojun looked with the sun setting low into the trees behind him. "I love you," you said, ending the silence.

Slight confusion, but endearment would be the best way to describe Xiaojun's expression in response to your statement. He finished the mouthful of peanut butter and jelly he was munching on before saying "I love you, too," with a light laugh.

That ice breaker ended up being all the pair of you needed to fall into hours worth of conversation about anything that crossed your minds and, if you were honest, you really needed it. Going to the park with him and separating yourself from everything else going on in your life was rejuvenating. By the time the sun had completely set below the horizon, Xiaojun's head had found a resting position in your lap as you read from a new novel you had picked up recently. The hand that wasn't holding open the book was absentmindedly running through his soft hair.

The night grew cold, and once the street lamps were the only source of light left to guide you, you decided it was time to go home. "This was fun," Xiaojun cracked, a smile poking at the corner of his lips, effectively ruining his facade, "We should do it again sometime."

You recognized his comment to be the same one that he made after your first visit to the park together. Playing along, you brought him closer to you by the hand and said, "I think I'd like that."

Xiaojun had love in his eyes as he pulled you in the rest of the way, and he perfectly ended your excursion with a cherry-flavored kiss.

----

hi okay i know i didn’t say i was gonna post something like this and i’m lowkey super nervous about how people will react but if you enjoyed this please say so!!! i had so much fun writing it and if anyone wants me to (hint hint: my ask box) i’d love to write more things on this blog in the future!! :D let me know hehe

#wayvnet #xiaojun x reader #xiaojun scenario #xiaojun fluff #xiaojun imagine #xiaojun #xiao dejun #mine #wayv scenario #wayv x reader #wayv fluff #wayv imagine #fic

241 notes · View notes

oregoncoastcamping · 3 years

Text

The 10 Best Places To Camp On Oregons Coast

“In the cute little fishing town of Garibaldi, on the Oregon Coast, we discovered this gem of an RV park. Waterfront, full hookup sites with a fantastic view led us to build a fire in hearth pit supplied and sit outdoors in December! Fall and winter give the Oregon coast a definite aura. Mist swirls across the seaside and massive waves pound the shoreline. If you love that wild, dramatic vibe, just load up on heat, waterproof layers. Oregon state parks have a 9 month booking window so it’s hard to get spots except you book way prematurely. However you possibly can snag cancellations which is how we were able to keep at so Oregon Coast camping.

If you’re in search of the proper place to take the children, or simply want a nice enjoyable getaway, there may be never a bad time to discover a place to pitch a tent in the Pacific Northwest. Set in the heart of the Oregon Coast Range, this trail is an area favorite for its distant accessibility and breathtaking beauty. Hikers, mountain bikers, and swimming hole lovers will all find the Opal Creek Trail accessible and gratifying. From the Oregon’s central desert to a few of the best beaches the Pacific Northwest has to supply, you possibly can unplug and unwind nearly anyplace you want within the state. Around the bend, town of Astoria sits on the banks of the mouth of the Columbia River where it spills into the Pacific Ocean. Kayak excursions and seaside horseback rides are popular activities in the space. Additional options such as an indoor pool and business heart go an extended way to making your keep as snug as potential.

<h2>Discover Each Seaside Spot</h2>

The Seaside Aquarium is one other great attraction to go to, together with the Lewis and Clark historical sites, the air museum, and lots of shopping outlets nearby. Just down the road in Bandon, you can go to local retailers, galleries and eating. Face Rock also lies nearby, in addition to miles of ocean beach on Beach Loop Drive. The Coquille River Lighthouse is one other close by interesting historic attraction. The park is just down the highway from many fantastic eating places, stores, galleries, and beautiful scenic walks alongside the seashore.

Fort Stevens State Park Campground has practically 500 campsites and a big selection of yurts and cabins for rent. Expect throngs of tourists due to the campground’s proximity to Portland, but with so many campsites and expansive grounds there’s loads of room to share. You’ll be greeted and welcomed like an old pal by the Wright household, who nonetheless run the every day operations of this seasonal campground. Rest straightforward underneath the tall pines, and clean your self up in the bathhouse after a long day at the seashore. They’re easy to spot, however seashores will be closed throughout snowy plover nesting season to guard the delicate birds.

“If you might be in search of an excellent, quiet campground on the coast that is the place. I will return many instances to this beautiful area.” — The Dyrt camper Karen S. There are good bathrooms with showers on website, a sand volleyball court docket, a store, little wild bunnies working round, and nice fire pits at every site.” — The Dyrt camper Ryan E.

It's extremely beneficial to explore the site's navy historical past unfold all through the park during any keep. The customer middle is a great place to begin a self-guided historical past tour, the place archival images and displays paint a picture of the fort's military previous.

The top 10 campgrounds we chosen all show daily, weekly and month-to-month rates for you. Located within the north-east of the state is Grande Hot Springs RV Resort, primarily based within the scenic Grande Rhonde Valley area. It’s additionally simply 8 miles south of downtown La Grande, which is home to numerous fun points of interest similar to Hilgard Junction State Park, the Wallowa Lake Scenic bike path, and Hot Lake Springs. North of Tillamook is a county campground near the beach known as Barview Jetty. There are some Forest Service campgrounds however they do not have showers.

<h3>What Individuals Are Saying About Wallowa Lake State Park</h3>

This campground is mostly a properly-saved secret with Umpqua River Lighthouse, which has an adjacent museum and is managed by the Douglas County Parks Department, close by. Located two miles north of Bandon-by-the-sea, this state park has lots to see and do with close by Coquille River Lighthouse and Bandon Marsh National Wildlife Refuge. The park has 13 yurts and no tent sites, sadly, but does sport a horse camp with eight primitive websites. The nearby town of Bandon, the "Cranberry Capitol of the World," has retailers, galleries, and restaurants obtainable. Fluffy, sandy seashores of Florence Various clear water lakes are found right here, sitting in the midst of the enormous, typically towering dunes.

We took our canine to Cape Lookout and he beloved the quick 5 minute stroll to the seaside. We puzzled down the seashore and up the seashore for over two hours one morning and it was heaven. I checked out the locations across the Gold Coast however I think it might be a bit too far south for us as we need to restrict our driving once we hit Oregon.

<h2>Things To See + Do Close To Beverly Seashore State Park</h2>

Sunset Bay State Park has a number of the BEST sunset views in all the Oregon coastline. If you need to camp out in completely breathtaking surroundings, Sunset Bay is for you. The tall rock cliffs, white beaches and Pacific Ocean views are digicam worthy at every angle. If that describes you then look no additional than Seaside KOA. This campground sits where the good Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean. You can embark on climbing adventures by day and benefit from the hot tub by night.

There's also disc golf, a playground area, and horseshoe pits. Kayak tours are supplied from July by way of Labor Day at close by Beaver Creek. There's even at lighthouse, Yaquina Bay Lighthouse, obtainable for viewing. Many folks contemplate this their favourite Oregon State Park, and with camping, swimming, hiking, biking, wildlife viewing, a shipwreck, and a military fort unfold over 4,300 acres, it isn't troublesome to see why. Visitors can keep in one of many six tent sites, 15 yurts, or 11 deluxe cabins and absorb a few of the best sunsets in the world. Hidden cove at Washburne There’s a simple path to the beach, containing miles of sand and a few surprises.

<h3>Safety At Hipcamp</h3>

From the principle seashore entry, head south and for the following mile or so you may find beautiful little cove-like locations, the primary of which is just 1 / 4 mile down the seashore. Some of these are only possibly 30 ft wide and 20 ft deep - which makes them excellent for letting the rays in however keeping the wind out.

Staying at an RV Park for a protracted time frame will vary on the campground & RV Park you choose. The distant thermal resort offers a wide range of accommodation types, including several RV spots for motorhome owners to take pleasure in all that the power has to offer. If soaking in a therapeutic, thermal scorching spring pond or private tub seems like your concept of relaxation, then this is certainly the place for you! The campsites are dog-pleasant too, so even your four-legged family members received’t should miss out. The Umatilla Marina RV Park is perched next to the gorgeous Columbia River in the northern finish of the state.

<h3>Awesome Places To Camp On The Oregon Coast</h3>

Only one SP tenting space is on the ocean (Beachside - between Yachats and Waldport), however select your website carefully as it's also proper on busy Hwy one hundred and one. For those with bigger RVs who're nonetheless looking for that in-the-woods feeling, the popular Harrington Loop Road south of Sisters doesn’t disappoint. If your thought of camping means sharing your site with extra ravens than different RVs, there’s no higher place to seek Oregon Coast camping out solace and seclusion than in Mount Hood National Forest. Expect towering Douglas-fir bushes to forged shade and conceal you away within the forest. Think trickling creeks and mushrooms springing up from each crevice, squirrels dancing acrobatic as eagles perch majestically in their eternal pursuit of representing liberty and justice for all. While it is hardly the one forested mountain you'll be able to discover, this combination of river, height and sheer vastness makes it one of the well-liked.

Other amenities embrace two clubhouses, two playgrounds, health heart, mini golf, basketball and tennis courts, clean bogs, and a laundry room. The solely draw back is it’s situated on the south side of the park, so you’ll must drive if camping on the north side. When we arrived, we received an actions calendar, however the only exercise we attempted to attend was a bonfire at the group fireplace pit space. Apparently, it was a member-led exercise, and that member didn’t show up, so no bonfire. There is Wi-Fi out there throughout the park for a charge, but it's free in the clubhouses and laundry room. We had 2-3 bars of 4G LTE of Verizon and AT&T throughout most of the park. The Oregon coast is a wonderful place to name home for a couple of days, weeks, or months when taking a highway journey in an RV.

The summer time months are undoubtedly the most effective time for Oregon coast camping. The weather is typically nice at the moment of the 12 months, but it's also the most crowded time to go to. I’ve heard it’s great to visit in the spring and fall when the parks are not so crowded.

2 notes · View notes

oregon-coast-camping · 3 years

Text

For The Oregon Coast Camping Fall Is One Of The Best Time

The county parks are inexpensive then state parks. They simply re-did the camping spots so you have a good, solid place to park find out here. In reality simply around miles away from the coast you’re prone to find cheaper NFS sites in addition to more availability at State Parks. It does get pricy, oceanside camping, and crowded on weekends for certain.

Fall on the coast just isn't the time to put your rig in mothballs for the winter, but rather to get on the market and luxuriate in some great benefits of the season. Take a side journey by way of the formal gardens of the one-time property of timber baron Louis Simpson at Shore Acres State Park. Warmer-than-common temperatures, an eclectic unfold of hikes and a buffer from the breeze make Humbug a pleasing, versatile outdoor vacation spot. Don't miss the superb ocean motion between Cook's Chasm and Devils Churn. Not sure where you plan to remain in Eureka, however we have stayed at Mad River RV Park simply north in Arcata. If there is anyone in your loved ones who enjoys horseback riding, I can fortunately advocate the beach rides out there at C&M Stables near Florence.

Six campsites and three yurts are accessible to campers with disabilities. 7 sites and 1 cabin are accessible to campers with disabilities. The northern-most redwood grove within the U.S. could be found on the end of the Riverview Trail by crossing the North Bank Road and climbing the 1-mile U.S. We will separate into 2 areas these accessed by I-5 these accessed Hwy a hundred and one accessible.

After leaving Tillamook, you will drive another ninety minutes south before reaching the town of Newport. Newport, Oregon, is among the most populated towns on the Oregon coast, so you'll want to replenish on supplies, groceries, and gasoline when you are right here. Each is full of alternative for a wide range of outdoor actions, such as climbing, wildlife viewing, watersports, and extra. We spend an enormous amount of time tenting and glamping in order that we are able to train you everything we learn.

It has over 250 private websites spaced out on eight loops in the woods, many along Spencer Creek. There are full hookup websites , water/electric websites including pull-throughs, over a hundred tent websites, and yurts obtainable. On the Northern Coast, this beautiful park is nestled between Nehalem Bay and the Pacific Ocean on a four mile long sand spit. The campground has level RV websites, water/electric hookups, bogs, showers, and a dump station. It’s also a brief drive to the local shops and restaurants in Manzanita. Camping with a tent is possible, however you’d be better off towing your camper alongside.

During a keep here, make sure to visit the Military Museum and the ancient stays of the Peter Iredale shipwreck that lies on the seaside. The Oregon Coast camping is full of jaw-dropping vistas and places to explore. It is hardly stunning that there are also some nice campgrounds to be discovered along the shoreline, some rustic and a few with each amenity that you could dream of.

Cold Water Cove Campground is situated in the Willamette National Forest. This well-liked Oregon campground features views of the attractive turquoise colored Clear Lake and ancient lava fields. Nearby are the Three Sisters Mountain and Mt. Washington.

Bullards Beach additionally has a horse camp with 8 primitive sites arrange for your horses. Located just off of the 101 on twelfth Ave. in Seaside is this RV Resort by Thousand Trails. Seaside RV Resort is situated about 1.5 miles from the Promenade, seashore, and downtown Seaside. If you brought your bike along, it’s an easy ride to and from town, and doubtless quicker than driving on a busy weekend!

Your lakeside keep is benefitted by its instant proximity to awesome hiking trails and ocean beaches. Located at the bottom of a secluded sand spit, you can see easy access to mountaineering on Cape Lookout and a number of the finest trails on the coast. Located proper on the mouth of the Coquille River, this vast park makes an superior place for anybody to stroll about. With eleven miles of trails for horse riding, climbing, and biking spanning across the park and 4 miles of beaches, you’ll by no means be at a loss for locations to explore. Enjoy the wondrous ocean or river views depending on which aspect of the park you visit.

What makes this place so nice is that it's near Astoria, so you'll be able to still get provides, even when you left one thing at home. Also popular is the nine-mile network of paved bicycle trails, and six-miles of climbing trails. Nearly the entire seashore areas in Oregon can be found for using horses, nonetheless,Oregon Parks and Recreation severely limits access.

Your Information To Sunriver: Summer Fun, Breweries, Cabins, Adventures And More

That’s why we created an inventory of the seven finest free camping spots in Oregon. We love tenting due to the quiet solitude that comes with it in a place that provokes meditation. Oregon is home to some of the most unbelievable places to visit within the Pacific Northwest.

We didn't have GPS, nor did our cell phones have service to let us know the place we have been. If you prefer to camp in an RV, boondocking in Oregon could be a easy—and enjoyable—method to hold prices down. Boondocking is typically outdoors of developed campsites, meaning there isn't a water or hookups obtainable. Parking in a single day in a parking zone corresponding to a Walmart is sometimes an possibility, however campers must get permission from the store supervisor before doing so. While state parks sometimes charge a charge to remain inside their grounds and make the most of tenting spots, a couple of groups are exempt from this charge.

While not totally free, this can be a nice possibility for folk already planning to check out the on line casino. For more data, name the casino or visit their web site. No matter where you select to remain, you'll be sure to come back back with nice footage and reminiscences of this incredible shoreline. One factor to remember is that the beachfront sites do not have water and electric hookups.

Hares Canyon Horse Camp

Besides RV and tent sites, in addition they have cabins for hire by the night, week or month. Robbin’s Nest RV Parkis situated simply south of Bandon on Highway 101. Its features include large RV sites, huge rig capability, cable TV, wi-fi, a clubhouse, restrooms with showers, laundry, and proximity to beaches. Iconic in type and memorable in design, nothing calls to the basic tenting expertise quite like an Airstream. A place to retreat after a day outside, they're good for stress-free moments and taking in the fantastic thing about our bay.

Most of the full facilities pack this little gem in the tough, together with restrooms, showers, RV hookups and much more. This guide to Oregon coast camping features all state, county and U.S. Forest Service campsites between Warrenton and Florence – some a hundred and eighty miles price. Discover and book tent camping, RV parks, cabins, treehouses, and glamping—all over the place from nationwide parks to blueberry farms. We've put together the definitive tenting information to the northern Oregon coast for finding just the right place to pitch a tent or park a trailer.

The seashores are all gorgeous and the residents are pleasant and welcoming. If you want to keep close to the Ocean let me suggest to you Beachside SP simply south of Waldport, or go for site #63. Site #63 has ocean on Passenger aspect and again side, the other three have ocean mainly to the back. We are scheduled to host there July and August of 2020. Instead, we ventured on to Cape Perpetua Scenic Area and spent no less than an hour making an attempt to seize the proper shot of the Spouting Horn and Thor’s Well.

Please empty your tub and fill it half full in order that the water will cool for the next bather. Bathhouse #2 is closed for security on account of utmost deterioration and decay. Sites are successfully separated and plentiful foliage presents good privateness between camps. A novel kids’ playground is in style with locals in addition to campers.

Part of the campground is located on the dunes where youngsters love to play within the sand, and the opposite half is situated on Carter Lake, good for fishing and boating. Campsites are nestled amongst shore pine, sitka spruce, Douglas fir and native rhododendron. Drinking water and flush bathrooms are available and each website has a campfire pit and picnic table. The Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area is a particular place.

youtube

1 note · View note

mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years

Text

Mama I-Rex rescue mission; Owen Grady x child reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this request has been a long one in the making and to the anon who asked for this request, THANK U SOOO MUCH FOR BEING SOOOO PATIENT WITH ME. Now in this request you as the reader are a child/Indo-rex hybrid that Owen takes in. Some events fit with the movie but I decided to put my own spin on some of the things based off Land before time 2; The Great Valley Adventure (all the LBT movies were my childhood if you haven’t seen them, go watch them cause ya’ll missed out on something) Anyways not really any warnings to look out for so I hope you all enjoy this fic :)

________________________________________________________

It all began with a test tube. Jurassic World scientists have come a long way in just 20 years since the first Jurassic Park, and with technology more advance than it was back then, they were able to create things that were possible for even normal scientists to think was possible. Not only did Jurassic World scientists make a hybrid dinosaur, they also used that same DNA to create a full human child to speak and communicate with said creature.

Now it was said that their newest attraction, the Indominus Rex or I-Rex for short, had eaten it’s sister because it grew too territorial but what they didn’t know was that the sister I-rex tried to eat the young girl they had with the two of them and the white I-Rex was protecting her pup since they both shared the same scent and DNA pattern, making the true I-Rex the mother of this young girl that they named IR626.

But then one night, IR626 somehow managed to escape the increased secure habitat of the I-Rex and started roaming freely around the park, and it is here that our story begins.

It’s been three days since the child’s escape and the mama I-Rex had been going frantic with worry and thinking that it was the humans that had taken away her pup, she planned an excellent escape to get out of her cage and stop at nothing till she found her pup.

She would claw up the walls by nightfall, each time making them go higher and higher till it almost seemed like it had escaped overnight, then for the next couple of days she lay there camouflaged from the world and waited for the right time to make her escape.

One day as he was heading back from a long, exhausting day of training the raptors, former Navy soldier Owen Grady was riding home to his bungalow on his bike when he swore that he saw a shadow move by. He stopped his bike and looked to his right and made sure that his bike light was shining ahead in case the figure moved again.

After a brief moment, he thought that it had to be some kind of stray animal or something so he just kept on riding till finally he reached his bungalow. He parked his bike alongside his home and then went on inside and prepared him a nice big sandwich with a side of chips, pickles and a chug of beer. Once he was done with his dinner, he had a quick shower and then proceeded to just plop down on his bed and hit the sack.

Suddenly he was woken up by this loud bang downstairs. He froze for a moment then he got up and took out his gun that he kept under his bed and quietly walked downstairs with his gun on point. He tried to walk as quietly as he could without making the stairs creak, then once he reached the bottom of his stairs, he heard the banging again coming from the kitchen.

He readied himself to fire his gun, he silently exhaled before suddenly jumping out and turning on the kitchen light and what he found was a shock. There on the ground eating some of his chips was a young girl about 5-6 years old, she had long and by long I mean past mid-back long, almost to about her bottom, she seemed pretty frail and was a bit dirty.

“What the hell?” He muttered quietly. He soon took notice of the girl staring right at the gun and she let out a small whimper of fear. “Hey, hey it’s okay I’m not gonna hurt you, its okay”. He placed the gun aside and held his hands out showing the girl that he meant no harm. “Do you have a name sweetheart?”

The girl only responded with whimpers and throat purrs. Owen was a bit shock to hear those types of sounds coming out of a little girl but he took it as her either being mute or still a little scared. After all, just what was a little girl her age doing this far out away from the park at this time of night?

“Here, you look like you could use something better than those chips”. Owen then walked over and picked up some steaks that he had stored in his freezer and heated them up for her. Once they were done, he placed one of them down in front of her and cut it up for her in small pieces so that she would be able to eat them.

She looked up at Owen and sniffed the steak and picked up a piece of it and tossed it into his mouth and chewed it up. She the proceeded to eat the rest of the pieces, stuffing all the pieces into her mouth when Owen told her.

“Slow down there sweetheart you’re gonna choke if you keep going like that”. She looked up at him and swallowed the meat that was in her mouth and Owen then handed her a glass of water but what he found strange was that she didn’t drink it like a normal human being, she began to drink it like a dog or a cat would.

She then let out a yawn and found the couch and crawled up onto it and spun around pawing at the cushions before finally falling asleep. Owen then picked up the blanket and covered her up and said to himself.

“In the morning we’ll figure out who you are, for now you just rest up”. He turned off the kitchen light and headed back upstairs to his room and fell back asleep, but his mind was occupied with just who in the heck this child was and why she was all alone?

The next morning, Owen woke up to feel a pressure right near his stomach. He looked down to see that the girl had come up sometime during the night and cuddled up right next to him and fell asleep. He looked down at this girl and couldn’t help a small from coming onto his lips thinking of how adorable this girl was. He softly stroked her hair which alerted her to wake up and she crooned at him and nuzzled into his chest.

“Morning kiddo, how’d you sleep?” She purred and crooned happily up at Owen. “Okay I’m gonna have to give you a name so that I’m not always calling you kiddo, how about Danielle?” The girl let out a growl of displeasure. Owen laughed and said, “Okay now, maybe Zoe?” She shook her head no. “Oh I’ve got it, how about (y/n)?” She tilted her head and nuzzled Owen once again. “Alright, (y/n) it is then”.

Owen then got out of bed and carried (y/n) down the stairs to make her some breakfast. He made a plate of pancakes for both himself and for (y/n) and made sure to add extra syrup to both plates.

“Here you go (y/n), just wait till you try these. I call these pancakes a-la Grady. With whipped cream, blueberries and the main ingredient syrup. Lots and lots of syrup”. He placed a plate down and (y/n) looked at it skeptically. This was unlike anything she had ever eaten before. She looked up to Owen and he urged her to take a bite.

But before she could eat it using her mouth, Owen quickly handed her a fork and knife and told her to first cut it up. She looked at the fork and knife in awe as she sniffed them but they gave off no scent.

“Here, how about I cut them up for you?” He then took away the knife and fork and proceeded to cut the pancakes up into bite sized pieces and held out a piece for her. (Y/n) sniffed it before sticking out her tongue to lick it, finally she took a bite and chewed it up a bit before spitting it out in disgust and making a choking sound of disgust.

Owen looked at her in surprise. No one on earth can resist the sweet taste of a pancake, so seeing her spit it out like it was nothing shocked him to the core. Before he could say anything, his cellphone rang. He walked up to it and said.

“Ello? Claire what a surprise I was wondering when you’d call me couldn’t resist me any longer huh? Hold on what? Okay….okay. And you need me there because…..okay fine, fine yeah, yeah, yeah I’ll be down there as soon as I can. Okay, bye”. He hung up his phone and turned toward (y/n) and said, “Okay sweetie, Uncle Owen has to see Ms. Claire about something, do you promise to stay here and be a good girl?” (Y/n) nodded as she crooned. “You won’t go anywhere?” She shook her head no. “Good girl” he gently ruffled the top of her head making her purr on contentment.

Owen got on his usual work clothes and soon walked out onto his bike and he said to (y/n) who stayed right by the door.

“Remember no going anywhere”. He started up his bike and then took off riding down the trail to meet with Claire.

Shortly after he left, a couple of butterflies flew past (y/n). On instinct she leaped up trying to get them so that she could eat them. She jumped off the deck and tried to get one that landed on a flower but it flew off just before she closed her mouth. (Y/n) spat out the flower choking in disgust before running after the two butterflies chomping her mouth as she disappeared into the forest.

All it took was just a few minutes inside the Indominus Rex paddock for all things to go to hell. Owen was inside along with some workers hoping to figure out on how the I-Rex escaped, but it wasn’t until finally it showed itself through the trees and began to attack.

It broke out of its paddock and devoured every human in sight, except for Owen who hid under a jeep and covered his scent with the oil of the car as the Indominus sniffed around for him, before finally walking away deep into the jungles roaring.

To say Owen was pissed was an understatement, no with that thing on the loose, it would stop at nothing till it devoured everything in its path, for it only had one thing in mind. To kill and eat. It was going to prove just who exactly was Queen of Isla Nublar and it won’t hesitate to kill anyone or anything that stood in its way.

Worried about (y/n)’s safety, he rode off on his bike back to the bungalow but as he burst through the doors, she was gone. He searched the entire place from top to bottom but couldn’t find her anywhere. His heart was starting to race and his chest starting to compress with fear and anxiety.

“Owen! Owen what the hell was that you just took off like it was nothing! What about my nephews?” Claire exclaimed as she burst into his bungalow.

“Look Claire, (y/n) is missing as well” he explained to Claire.

“Whose (y/n)?”

“I found her last night after she broke into my bungalow. I told her to stay put, why would she run off after she promised me?”

“Maybe her parents finally found her, Owen we have to find my nephews and fast before the Indominus does”. Owen turned towards Claire and sneered down at her.

“You helped create this thing, and you willingly brought your nephews here, now I’ll help you find them but our first priority is getting (y/n). And if anything happens to that little girl, it’s on your hands”. He then walked out and told her to hurry up and soon the two of them drove off.

Deep in the jungles, (y/n) had jumped across some boulders and was now surrounded by lake water as she tried to get the last butterfly that was fluttering around her. She chirped and growled softly as she chomped in mid air and that’s when she heard a very familiar roar.

She stopped and stayed quiet and heard the roar again. She crooned softly and hopped across the rocks back to the main land and let out a couple of roars but sadly they weren’t loud enough. She then began to track her mother’s scent hoping to reunite with her very soon.

It must have been at least an hour and (y/n) was nowhere close to finding her mother. She leaned up against a log and whimpered sadly as tears filled her eyes. Hoping for the best, she tried roaring again but they still weren’t as strong and powerful as her mother’s, she was beginning to think that she’d never reunite with her mother again.

Suddenly something vroomed towards her. An old 1993 Jurassic Park jeep suddenly zoomed a few feet past her and a voice cried out.

“Zac wait!”

“Grey I’m not stopping not with that thing behind us!”

“But there’s a little girl here stop the car!” The jeep suddenly stopped and coming out of the car were two young boys. One was taller with short dark brown hair and brown eyes, and the other was shorter with almost sandy blonde maybe dirty blonde hair, blue eyes.

These two boys were none other than Claire’s nephews, Zac and Grey Mitchell. Grey was the first one to approach her.

“Hey, are you lost?” (Y/n) wished that she could speak human tongue but she settled for a simple nod. “Where are your parents at?” She only whimpered and crooned at Grey and that’s when Zac said.

“Grey, I don’t think she can speak. She might me a mute” he whispered the last part to Grey in his ear in hopes to not offend (y/n). Suddenly a roar was heard and both boys froze up. “Come on we gotta get out of here now!” stated Zac. Without warning, Grey picked (y/n) up and the two boys piled back into the car and Zac started the engine up once more and drove off just as the Indominus Rex came out from the trees roaring furiously.

As Zac put it in gear and gave the jeep more gas to try and outrun this monster, Grey said to his big brother.

“It’s catching up! Make it go faster!” The I-Rex roared as it stayed right on the jeeps tail. (Y/n) looked straight ahead and finally recognized this creature as her mother. She crooned softly but her mother wasn’t stopping at all, her intent was to kill all of them.

The two brothers kept arguing about how to outrun this creature that they had no idea that they were about to fall into a ditch. Suddenly the jeep fell head first into the big ditch which jerked all three kids and the jeep began to smoke up. The three of them groaned and Zac said as he turned behind him.

“You two okay?”

“I’m fine” said Grey. He then looked over (y/n) and minus a couple of scratches, she was fine. But soon the roaring came above them as a shadow loomed over the three children.

The Indominus Rex finally had them in her sights.

Zac came over both his brother and (y/n) hoping that the beast would take him first and spare his little brother as well as the kid. (Y/n) walked in front of the Indominus Rex, all the while the brothers tried to urge her back or to run away. (Y/n) crooned and chirped up at her mom while she only kept roaring, (y/n) then suddenly felt something wanting to come out of her throat, her crooning soon turned into a very loud roar almost similar to the I-Rex’s.

The Indominus ceased her roaring and grunted softly as she lowered her head. (Y/n) crooned as Zac and Grey both cried out.

“No, don’t!” But what they didn’t expect was for the I-Rex to suddenly lick (y/n) motherly. They watched as she hopped up onto the I-Rex’s muzzle and they heard soft growling and purrs.

Mother and daughter were finally reunited after several days apart.

The two of them nuzzled and purred against each other as Zac said to himself.

“What the hell?”

“Zac I think—I think that’s her mom”. Stated Grey as he stared at the action in front of him.

“But that’s impossible, she’s human and that’s a thing”.

“Maybe Aunt Claire knows something about this”. Grey then cautiously walked up towards the mother and daughter and the mama I-Rex snarled defensively as she wrapped her head protectively around her pup. But (y/n) crooned and spoke to her mother in their tongue telling her that he was a friend.

She then walked up towards Grey and he asked her.

“Can—she help us find our aunt? She has orange hair and wears a lab coat, she might be out there looking for us?”

“Doubtful” pipped in Zac. Grey glared at his brother before turning his attention back to (y/n).

“Can she?” (Y/n) went up to her mother and the two of them began to talk and it was then she got on top of her mother’s head and gestured to the boys to hop on. Grey immediately hopped on while Zac was still a bit weary, I mean after all just 2 minutes ago this thing tried to eat them. “I’d never thought in my wildest dreams I’d actually be riding a dinosaur, this is the coolest thing ever!”

“I’ve seen cooler” muttered Zac as he held on tight as the I-Rex proceeded to walk on ahead.

Meanwhile Owen and Claire were searching through the jungles for the three lost kids and that’s when they started to hear the thunderous footsteps. Owen and Claire hid beneath a log to see the I-Rex coming out but what they were shocked to find were the three kids they were searching for actually riding the I-Rex.

“Zac? Grey!” Claire cried out. It soon got their attention and the boys cried out to their aunt. The mama I-Rex lowered her head down and the boys took off running towards their aunt and they all met in a family embrace. Meanwhile Owen saw (Y/n) slide off the I-Rex’s head and he ran up to her.

But before he reached her, the I-Rex defensively snarled at Owen, seeing that he now held a weapon on his person and saw him as a threat to her and her child, especially since she’s dealt with weapons like that before whenever she failed to comply. (Y/n) crooned up at her mama telling him that he saved her and fed her.

Mama tried to reason with her child telling her that men like that who hold what they call guns are bad people. They do nothing but hurt and kill, but (y/n) told her mama that he was different. He took care of her and protected her when she had nowhere else to go. The Mama I-Rex hesitantly complied and allowed her daughter to go up to Owen and hug his legs.

“Oh thank god you’re okay. You shouldn’t have run off like that!” He suddenly snapped. (Y/n) whimpered sadly looking up at Owen with sad eyes hoping that he’d forgive her and seeing those puppy dog eyes, Owen complied and said, “Ohh I can’t stay mad at you”.

“Wait this is (y/n)?” asked Claire.

“Yep this is (n/n)”.

“You’ve found her, no one’s been able to find her for over four days” stated Claire.

“What do you mean Aunt Claire?” asked Zac.

“She’s the child experiment we created to be half human, half Indominus but she somehow escaped the paddock and we haven’t been able to find her since. So all of this was…..a rescue mission?” She turned towards the I-Rex and the creature turned towards Claire.

And for the first time, Claire actually felt a human within the I-Rex, she almost saw the eyes of her sister looking back at her.

The eyes of a mother, wanting her baby back.

“Wait so you created (y/n)?”

“The scientists did, they wanted to see if it was possible to combine human and dino DNA to have a better understanding of their worlds. Someone to be the bridge between Man and Beast. She was the first ever successful asset to truly grow like a normal child” explained Claire. Owen looked down at (y/n) who looked up at him.

“So what happens now? I mean they’re together, can’t they just be put back in their paddock?” asked Grey.

“I’m afraid not, with all the deaths the Indominus has done, security has made the call for it to be terminated on sight”.

“But then that would leave (y/n) an orphan!” exclaimed Grey. Owen looked down to (y/n) and he said.

“Not on my watch,” he then turned towards Claire and her nephews and told them to create a distraction and tell security that they saw the I-Rex head for the South side of the island, meanwhile Owen would lead the two of them to the West side and hopefully find them a safe place to hide.

“Are you sure about this Owen?” asked Claire.

“Never been sure in my life, go now before they find us”. It was then the Mitchell’s took off in the jeep while Owen got on his bike and told (y/n), “Tell your mom to follow me”. (Y/n) chirped at her mother as she crawled back on top of her mother’s head and soon the three of them took off to the West side of the island.

After awhile of running and riding, Owen finally got the two I-Rex’s to a safe, uninhabited and rugged terrain where (Y/n) and her mom would be safe.

“Alright, no one should find you both here. Think you both can stay up here and stay out of sight?” (Y/n) nodded then told her mama to put her down. She lowered her head and allowed her daughter to walk up to Owen.

She pulled on his jeans and chirped at him almost wanting him to come with them all the way till they found a new home. Owen got off his bike and said to her.

“I can’t go from here. My bike won’t be able to make the trip, and I doubt I’d even survive the trip back by myself if I were to follow you. This is where we have to say goodbye sweetheart”. (Y/n) looked at him with sad eyes and nuzzled into his chest whimpering sadly. Owen embraced her tightly and said as he tried to be strong and hold back his tears, “I know, I’ll miss you too. But hell who knows, maybe we’ll meet again someday, now go on. Scat!”

(Y/n) slowly walked away from Owen and her and her mother walked on ahead to find their new home somewhere on the West side of the island. All the while, Owen allowed a tear to escape his face as he sniffled softly.

“Good luck (y/n)” he choked out and he stayed there until he saw the tail of the I-Rex finally disappear from his sight over the rocky hills. Owen wiped away the tears from his cheeks and got back on his bike and rode back to the park.

He met up with Claire and her nephews who were at the Visitor Center and Claire took one look at Owen’s heartbroken face and knew that it had been done.

“Are they safe?” asked Grey. Owen took a deep breath in and cleared his throat as he said.

“Yep, they’re safely far away from here. They’ll be fine kid”. Owen looked out into the distance and hoped that maybe one day he would see (y/n) again.

#jurassic world #jurassic world oneshot #owen grady imagine #owen grady oneshot #owen grady x reader #owen grady x child reader #jurassic world fandom #jurassic world fanfiction #owen grady fanfic

463 notes · View notes

theaspiringwanderess · 5 years

Text

Maligne Pass Trail

(my amazing sister)

The Maligne Pass Trail is a well known, now partially decommissioned trail, located in the world renowned Jasper National Park in Alberta, Canada. It is a highly sought after hike, known for its alpine meadows full of amazing wild flowers and spectacular scenery. In 2018 I had the privilege experiencing this amazing and historic trail not only with my sister, but also an impressive group of female backpackers. In total we spent a full 3 day weekend hiking; one day hiking the Potokan Creek Trail to Avalanche Campground where we setup camp, a second day of day-hiking further up the pass, and day 3 hiking back to civilization.

A Little History Blurb

There is a significant story nestled in Canadian history about a woman explorer named Mary Schaffer that makes the Maligne Pass Trail just a little bit more magical. You may have never heard of her but, you could almost say little Miss Mary could be credited in large part for the later development of Jasper National Park, literally a Canadian jewel. In Pennsylvania, 1861, then Mary Townsend Sharples was born into a time when it was considered improper for woman to be on expeditions, much less leading them. In 1889, shortly after being introduced to her then future husband, Dr. Charles Schaffer, the two married and began the first of many trips together through the Canadian Rockies. They collaborated on a labour of love, a joint book of regional wildflowers, aptly named ‘Alpine Flora of the Canadian Rockies’ which would eventually be published in 1907 (a historic version can be found online via open Chung Collection of UBC). After Charles’ passing in 1903, Mary set about to complete the guide book in his honour. In her endeavour to do so, she forged relationships, and friendships, with local Nakota tribesman whom assisted in guiding and helping her through her travels, most notably Sampson Beaver and his family. As a result of these expeditions, Mary is considered equally as famous for the “discovery” of Maligne Lake and for being (likely) the first Caucasian person, albiet female none the less, to chart a path to it, as she is for the completion of the botanical guidebook. Her additional, and possibly most famous publication, Old Indian Trails of the Canadian Rockies, recounts her expeditions between 1907-1908 and is credited not only as leading to the protection of the Maligne Lake area, but as being a key, first hand account of social standards of the era. In 1911, a 49 year old Mary was approached by the Geographical Survey of Canada to survey and document the lake area and in doing so name the lake, mountains, peaks and other geographical features for her guides, family, friends and sponsors. You can read more about these details, and Mary, including some fascinating quotes and other points of interest here.

About the Trail

Our party of 10 tenacious women parked in a parking lot located on the western side of the bridge over the Poboktan creek. We suited up, grabbed our packs and walked over the bridge to the Poboktan Creek Trail Head and began our adventure. The trail primarily tracks alongside the Poboktan until you reach its confluence with Poligne Creek where you will shift direction to head northwesterly along Poligne until you reach Avalanche Campground. Although only an approximate 11 km to our destination at Avalanche, the elevation climbed from about 1540 meters at the trailhead to approximately 2037 meters at the campground itself; it is important to note that the elevation continues to climb as you continue further down the trail past the campsite. The best advice is pack light, the terrain was very firm, I was thankful I had bought some good quality, hiking grade insoles for my Lowa’s, but my feet still came away pretty sore. It took us most of the day at a steady pace (roughly 6 or so hours, not rushing and accounting for brief breaks and lunch riverside) to reach Avalanche. Both black flies and mosquitos are plentiful residents here, so be sure to pack, and liberally apply, a broad spectrum insect repellent (unless maybe you like bitey friends!).

The creeks provide clean and plentiful water sources all the way to Avalanche, though water tabs are always recommended. In total we passed few other hikers along the way, most closest to the trailhead, including a young couple with a new baby (brave, admirable... Park lifestyle, who knows!); but for the most part, as we ventured into more remote areas, we were on our own and very secluded, passing only two or three other parties the remainder of the weekend. The trail was fairly clear and easy to see, though some of the bridges were not in good shape. Although we were still able to cross at the expected spots, being a partially decommissioned hiking trail means the Park is no longer doing formal maintenance on the trail; bridges may not be upkept or repaired and fallen debris may not be cleared, so be prepared, if necessary, to find safer routes if required. A special reservation must also be made through Parks Canada to stay at the Avalanche Campsite. Only single party reservations for specific time frames will be allowed at a time with a limited number allowed each year.

(map courtesy Parks Canada)

Wildlife and Plantlife

Oddly enough we actually did not encounter much wildlife on our trek. If you’re like me, wildlife and photography are a huge part of what I enjoy about hiking, so this was a bit unfortunate. I believe this may have had to do most likely with our party size. However the area is very well known for elk, moose, bears (both black and grizzly), cougars, pikas (at higher elevations), ground squirrels and many other amazing creatures. We also spotted some amazing wildflowers including wild columbine, willow, lilies, and much, much more! Even with the lack of animal appearances, trust me, there is no shortage of stunning scenery and photographic opportunities - beauty is literally everywhere.

However, I think its worth mentioning, even if you don’t come across much in the realm of animals, it doesn’t mean they aren’t still around. It is important to ALWAYS remember and exercise bear safety. Ensure you have the proper equipment, this includes bear bells and other noise makers to alert wildlife to your presence, and keeping readily accessible bear spray. Travelling in groups is always recommended, there is safety in numbers and no cell service for emergencies. Do not leave your garbage on the trail and do not bring food or scented items into your tent, this can attract animals of all kinds, including bears, that you may not appreciate sharing your supplies with, or cuddling next to, at night. One of the ladies in our party shared a tale of the time they left their bike helmets outside to dry overnight, only to awaken the next morning to find raccoons eating the salt soaked foam padding (I couldn’t help but imagine it must not have been a comfy wear after that - lol) ... mice, skunks and racoons are also common campground scavengers and have been known to get into even the best hung bear bags.

(small animal tracks)

Why Decommission Trails?

This is something I was curious about when I read up on the Maligne Pass Trail. Why suddenly decommission a popular trail with so much history? In short its because of its popularity and the rare and unique wildlife and fauna put at risk by the people traversing through. I learned that it takes years (6+) for the tundra to recoup from a single misplaced step! Obviously this area is special, and because of this Jasper National Park has decided now to make it accessible only to the most well versed and savvy backpackers in hopes that it will remain protected and safe for years to come. This means removing it from common maps and advertising it significantly less. Please be cognoscente of the purpose behind this as you pass through and remember to keep your impact on the area to a minimum. Pack your garbage back with you, burn fires only in provided pits, do not feed or approach the wildlife, and... beware of where you step ;) .

Avalanche Campsite

Avalanche Campsite was beyond amazing... I was so saddened to realize I didn’t actually get a good shot of it, so this magical photo of the path into it will just have to do (sorry!). Perched atop a hillside overlooking a bend in the creek, this amazing spot snuck right up on us. There were about 4-5 tent-ready pads. A couple picnic tables and 2 fire pits. There were 2 bear bag hanging areas further to the left of the site (as you face the tent pads) with stainless steel cord and fixing carabineers. There was also a surprisingly nice toilet facility located above and slightly to the right of the tent pads, well concealed in the forest. One of the articles I read prior to the hike describe the facilities as ‘having the best skylight you’d ever seen...” took us a bit to clue in, but rest assured the view is definitely boundless (lol). There was also a pretty sturdy fallen tree across the river that one of the braver ladies turned into an impromptu yoga study... just be sure if you give it a try that your balance is spot on because the water is brisk!

Beyond Avalanche

After setting up camp, having a hearty meal and crashing for the night, day two was a welcome adventure into the great beyond of The Pass. Ensure you have ample water setting out on your trek as further along the trail you stray away from the creek supply. You will eventually come across some fresh springs and small pothole lakes as you enter the higher altitude, valley-like area just above the tree line. The path leaving the campsite was a bit tricker to find for the first while and winds through some scrub brush and light coniferous forest. Eventually we made our way past this and the path opens up into a small valley-like plain, congratulations, you have set eyes on something few will now see, The Maligne Pass! With peaks on either side and a well trodden, dirt path which passes by a chain of tiny little lakes (almost more the size of large ponds) the wild flowers are stunning and the view is breathtaking. Here you will be treated to an array of various colours of Indian Paint Brush, willows, Alpine Heather, Alpine Aster, Western Pasqueflower, numerous awe inspiring fungi, and I was told by a biologist in our group, a very rare beauty she was literally mind blown to find, known as Teal Gentian, amongst much, much more.

We passed much of the day away climbing the nearby mountain peaks, making snow angels and looking down on the stunning view of Maligne Lake which was visible in the distance. We even enjoyed a brief dip in the tiny lake, brief being the operative word since it was also freezing! Having throughly explored The Pass, as the day came to a close we turned around and headed back to base camp. On our way back we came across a young solo German hiker making his way through the valley and continuing along the pass trail. This was worth a mention as we briefly spoke with him and he inquired about safe places (or rather the lack there of at this point) to make a camp and bear proof your supplies. What trees there were, were spindly and not high enough to adequately hang or keep safe a food bag. If you intend on continuing through the trail do keep this in mind as you will need to have enough time to make adequate arrangements to keep you and your supplies safe for the night.

Noteworthy Points

The majority of the women in my party had camel backs (If you’re not familiar, these are large refillable water bottles able to be stored inside your pack). I used two large Nalgine water bottles which were very sufficient but not as easy to access on the fly. After returning I did some research and invested in a Platypus collapsable hydration pack; it just seems so much easier on the move and these babies weigh literally nothing empty (which is a major objective for me!).

Pack sunscreen and be prepared to reapply it mid-day. Although I’d applied ample sunscreen, I found out the hard way that skin burns faster at higher altitudes due to the thinner atmosphere. I was teased by friends the rest of the summer for my awesome half-tanned legs (courtesy of my gaiters).

If you plan on making a base camp as we did at Avalanche and doing some day hiking, consider packing a lightweight, compact daypack or camelback pack.

While the days were hot (+25/27 celsius), the nights were much colder than I expected. I have a Marmot Womens’ Trestles mummy bag (which I ADORE! it just wish I’d brought the warmer one!) rated for +5 celsius and a charcoal bag liner, and even with layers on (tee shirt, sweat pants, socks, merino wool sweater and leggings) I was STILL cold (much to my surprise and dismay). The mountains can be deceiving, pack warm and consider the temperatures drops significantly at night.

Final Thoughts

I consider this as one of my most favourite hiking experiences to date and I only wish we could’ve spent a bit more time and extended our stay to explore the full trail. The scenery was spectacular and was only made better by the great company.

You can find more of my photography from the Maligne Pass Trail and more on my website at KatrynaJones.com

1 note · View note

self-indulgent-sparrow · 6 years

Text

BIG GOD

Queenie went through a lot of work to get to where she is today. Putting it onto paper was a hard thing to do, for reasons that will become painfully obvious.

Please understand that I've had this concept planned out for at least 3 years now—if it reads like an angst ride, it's because it's something 2015 May had conceptualized, and I've set into stone for years and years. If anything, writing this nailed down some facts about her character and her beliefs that I haven't gotten to really talk about or study in depth.

10.8k. 30 pages, single spaced. Not an enjoyable ride to read. Heavy, heavy lore—there's no humor in this one.

Warnings for mention of suicide/suicide idealization, graphic descriptions of violence and body trauma. Also just general angst. Probably some CPTSD.

BIG GOD

The white cliff side stretched along the horizon, a stark contrast to the blue sky that it cut into, to the black sea that crashed against it. From here, she could see the thin red and white lighthouse, could only just make out the coast that crested partway along the bottom.

Beachy Head was the second of the four chalk cliff ranges she'd narrowed the location to. Mirah had seen the Seven Sisters—had scoped the cliffs for over a week, studying every shadow and dip—to no avail. The scripts had been unclear, only truly describing the cliff-side cave entrance as well hidden, barely a blot against the white edges of Albion, soaked in a history of blood.

In all honesty, she predicted the artifact would be at Dover, near the castle. It was a logical conclusion to jump to—the site had been witness to war, over and over again. The right island, the right backstory, it made sense that the scripts would describe Dover.

But Beachy Head was just east of the Sisters, and she wanted to be thorough. She'd come this far.

–

When she was a child, she devoured stories like they were air. The books she collected on Egypt and Greece and Rome numbered well beyond the dozens, alongside books about dragons and monsters and heroes. Heroes, always heroes.

She excelled in the history, drowned in the beliefs that were, to her, so foreign, but had once been people's lifelines. Dead stories, speaking beyond the grave, still forcing themselves out of the ground to be known. They held their own power. They lived beyond their people.

She had devoted herself deeply to the powerful concepts, needing badly to believe that, even when she was gone, she'd leave something behind. Something more than what she was at the time—a small, lonely creature, whose only friends were the books.

One day she'd tell a story, and it would echo into the years that would follow, without her there to witness it. She'd have that power too.

She had to believe that. She had to believe there was something more than the existence she'd been given.

Time passed. She nearly forgot. She nearly burned away.

–

The boat swayed gently, thumping against the wood and spraying water and foam as it docked. She had barely stepped onto the pier when she was handed the brochure. She opened it with chilly fingers, tucking her chin into her chest.

It proudly advertised the view of the lighthouse, the nearby pub in Eastbourne. It declared she should try the ice cream trucks that traversed the area, should follow the trail on the day hike to really appreciate the whole of the grandeur.

The national parks. The history. The bike marathon.

It all begged the question, she thought, as she made her way to the entrance of the dock, where the cab drivers waved at the tourists to beckon them over. With all this tourism, with eyes on the cliff-side at almost all times—

How could anything hide here? Would it truly not have been found?

(Underneath the listings and advertisements, she noted quietly, was a plea that, if one was contemplating suicide, to seek help immediately.)

Mirah looked out along the bottom of the cliff face, her eyes narrowed. It just out from the water in a sharp line, almost perpendicular, almost a straight shot upward. For miles, there were no coastlines along its base.

Soaking in a history of blood.

–

When she was six years old, Mirah would look out the window of the car, her seat-belt digging into her neck. She would fantasize, then, in the quiet of the drive, about jumping off high cliffs into the ocean to her death.

She would think about being dashed against the tall rocks at the bottom, barely hurting for more than a moment before disappearing into froth. Six years old, and she wrote out the suicide notes in her head. The people she'd leave behind, the blame she'd pin, the guilt they'd drown in. The voices they'd hear that weren't truly there. Her voice, living long after she did.

An event that would mean something to other people. A way to live through words long after the body had slipped away.

Strange. She would always find herself crying at the idea.

She didn't know for a long, long time, that six year olds shouldn't be thinking about that.

Strange.

–

The hotel was barely ten minutes from the trail. She reeked of tourism and sweat, an out of place form in the quiet bedroom with its warm lamps and soft bed. It barely complained when she dropped the weight of her backpack onto it, the sheets calling to her, the hot shower calling to her.

She chose, instead, to unzip the pack, and began to pull out her maps. There was little time to worry about showering—Beachy Head was a long expanse. It would take time and focus to study its rough white face, to narrow down possible cave entrances.

She dropped her maps and script translations onto the small desk, flicking the light on. The translation sheets rolled—she pinned them down with her travel mug, full of the crap hotel coffee and four bags of sugar.

Mirah dropped into the chair and bent over her studies, like she had every day for the past month and a half. She laced her fingers, putting them under her chin, and began again.

Her eyes ached from the effort. They begged for rest she did not give.

The trail of Beachy Head could be traversed in a single day. Along the path, members of the chaplaincy patrolled, to ward off potential jumpers, but their patterns were predictable and avoidable, as had been proven by the increase in bodies found in the last month.

She divided the cliff-line into portions with care, opening the journal she'd used for documenting the progress she'd made. Painstakingly, she pasted portions of one of the maps into the pages, dedicating a few blank pages to each one.

The patrols would be little problem. She had no plans to die.

It neared two-forty in the morning when she checked her phone for the first time in the past forty-eight hours. Her mouth became a hard line.

You have 2 (Two) missed calls

Blocked Number

You have 2 (Two) new voicemails

Blocked Number

She deleted them without listening, and turned her phone off again.

–

She was sixteen she she finally saw someone for her depression. The room was south facing, the sunlight slanting through the blinds. The woman she met was old, and kind, and stern, and she wept in that room more times than she could count.

“What made you decide to see me?”

Mirah dug her fingers into her plaid school skirt. Her eyes flicked to her mother's form in the chair beside her, and to her knees.

“I nearly crashed my car.”

That day had been a bad one, like so many before it. She had--

She had told her father, time and time again, that she was sick. She was sick and sad and she needed help, she needed to get help, and he had told her, with all the kindness in the world, that she could always talk to him about her problems. He had bought her lunch, and that was it.

She was his little date.

–

On day four, she stood at the highest point of Beachy Head, gripping her journal tight to her chest against the cool wind that bit into her cheeks. The lighthouse was a slender thing thing from here, below her. Here, there was no coastline, just the crashing water over five hundred feet below her.

When she looked down the face of the cliff, she could see the jutting rock, the dipping shadows. They dipped and warped, wrong, like they were falling into unseen crevices.

She flipped the journal open and marked the location studiously, sketching the lighthouse to size for reference. Her eyes narrowed, watering from the cold. When she looked up, the sunlight glinted off the ocean.

It really was beautiful here. The sky was clear. The sun was high.

She hadn't been focused on a goal like this in a long time. It was the closest she felt to alive again; the closest she could come to joy and satisfaction--

It was nice to care about something again.

The devil was in the details. She opened her journal and continued her work. If this was it, she needed to do everything she could to get it right.

–

She decided, at one point, to disappear. She hurt everywhere, she hurt all the time. The people she loved didn't love her back. The people who said they loved her hurt her, over and over and over.

She'd never been anything to anyone. She felt, all the time, little more than a burden, little more than a weight around people's necks. There was a weight on her neck, something keeping her tethered, something that kept her head bowed to the earth.

There was no pride. There was no passion. There was just her, little more than a ghost.

At night, she dreamed that she stopped existing, and nobody noticed.

–

The night was cold and still as she trekked up the trail that followed the cliff side. Her headlight bobbed along the dirt path, its dimmest setting still painting stark shadows from the pebbles and the long grass. In the dark, she could hear the high cry of unseen birds overheard.

Her pack dug into her shoulders as she walked, quick and quiet. She paused for hardly a moment, ducked low, and turned her light off, listening hard. A minute passed, then two, before she stood again, continuing forward to the high point. She left her light off, now.

She'd timed the patrols, learned the routes. They followed the road in search of cars in the night, then moved up the trail—if she was right, she had about a half hour to set up her posts and begin rappelling the cliff-side before the first patrol would pass it. That was not a lot of time.

She'd have to get it right. Lucky for her, she'd become somewhat efficient at this part.

The anchor posts were cold and heavy in her gloves. She drove the first into the ground, striking it deeper with the mallet. The noise was muffled by the rubber head, but the strikes resonated through her. The second post, ten feet from the first, went in easier. She looped and knotted her rope onto them, double checking her harness knots and descender. They were stable, secure. They would hold her weight.

She tightened the leg loops of the harness on her body, checked her headlight. In her inner coat pocket, easily accessible but secure, were her maps. Her glasses were strapped on, and would stay in place.

She stood at the edge of the cliff, inhaling deeply the painfully cold air. It smelled of sea salt and ice. Her body trembled—the rock felt ready to give way underneath her feet. An illusion, her own mind playing tricks on her. Terrifying and exhilarating all the same.

She hoped beyond hope that she wasn't wrong, but she didn't bet on it.

Mirah took one last huff of breath, turned her headlight on, gripped the rope in both her hands, and began her descent.

–

She stayed alive.

A spiteful action. She stayed alive, holding her bleeding heart in her hand.

She could never explain why she chose, or when she chose, to try to love herself. She'd not been loved for a long time, and somehow the biggest insult she could provide to others was the attempt to provide what they refused to.

Mirah was nearly eighteen when she finally ran away. Ties were hard to cut—she did her best, blocking phone numbers, changing bank accounts. She came as close as she could to becoming a new person, and she ran so far she crossed an ocean. Her funds had always been low, but school was always hosting classes abroad.

It was easier than she expected, and equally as hard. She had no foundation—but she had never had one, really. The foundation she'd been born with had been rotten from the beginning. It was a miracle she had chosen life.

She had made her own miracle. She'd pulled herself from her own grave. Somewhere along the way, she chose to love.

–

She shuddered against the wind, pressing herself to the rock face. Her boots were braced against the chalk, and she could feel the gentle slide as it gave and came loose in places.

This was insane, a weak voice pleaded in her head. Go back, go back. This was too far, it begged. She stepped down, down, down. The white stone swallowed her entire vision on all sides.

She was keenly aware, now—of the ache of the harness where it dug into her shoulders and thighs, of the stretch and burn of her knuckles where they gripped the rope and let it slide through their creaky joints. Of the way her skin was freezing cold and burning hot all in one moment, from adrenaline.

Down. Down. Down. Her rope unwound from the descender slowly, surely. Down. Each step down the wall was careful, bracing, in an attempt to find footing against the eroding stone. Down. She'd descended how far now? Forty feet? Fifty? Was she close? She must be close. She had to be close. Down. How much longer did she have before the patrol crossed? Down.

The next step downward struck the cap of her boot—her foot slipped and failed to brace and her knee struck the jutting rock. She swore hard and corrected, her jaw tightly clenched from the sudden pain. It was fine—she was fine. She should have expected the sudden slope outwards, should have prepared for it.

Here came the hard part. With careful movements, Mirah edged backwards down the slope, her eyes on her rope. She'd have to keep it in place when it caught on the slope, swing herself back to the wall of rock and the mouth of the potential cave, and be able to pull herself up it again.

It was a feat of strength, which she only barely had enough of. She edged over the furthest point of rock, and she could not resist the urge to press her hand flat to the scratchy white stone. Even this high up, she could see the spray of water from the ocean glistening against it.

There were no grips to the chalky surface, but that was fine—she just wanted to touch it. It was real.

This was real. She was scaling a known monument, a historical landmark, in the dead of night. She had made it to this place—this gorgeous site, drowning in history—all on her own. She was—this was insane. This was spectacular. Mind-boggling.

Mirah turned her head to look over her shoulder, out to the ocean that was as loud in her ears as the blood rushing through her. She could see the lighthouse, its light like a star on the water.

For a blinding moment, she was struck with the urge to weep.

She swallowed the growing ache in her throat and turned back to the cliff.

Down. Down.

When she pressed her toes forward, she could just feel the rock face at the tips. Still, she lowered herself with care, until she had fully passed the jutting lip of rock.

Mirah stared at the flat wall that met her.

There was nothing here.

Her chest heaved hard. Fine. That—it was fine. She'd hit dead ends like this before. It wasn't her first empty lead, and it wouldn't be the last. It hurt like hell—like she had failed altogether—and she'd have to pull herself all the way back up the cliff-side to make it to the next map point, but. It was fine.

Mirah gripped her cord tight in her fingers, her entire form curled and tensed. A strangled scream escaped from her despite her best efforts—a choked sob followed, and the dam broke. She began to cry there, hanging in the air, her headlight bouncing along the rock and painting uneven shadows everywhere.

Her breakdown was short, though it left her shaking. She braced herself against the rock again, her gloves pressed flat as she tried to compose herself again. A deep inhale, a shaky exhale. Another. When she swallowed the rest of the tears, she turned to look down the length of the white wall.

It was then that she saw the stark cut of shadows, maybe two meters away.

The mouth of the cave was not a mouth—it was barely more than a crack, a cranny, an uneven, imperfect overlap of rock against rock. It was so terribly small—barely enough for the average person to fit.

She was so small.

A choked noise escaped her as she rocked herself along the rock face, struggling for purchase against the crumbling stone. She reached out with near-desperate fingers, and grabbed the sharp lip of rock. With all her strength, she pulled herself towards and into the crevice, her face pressed into the wall. Her light painted stark bright light into the tight passage—she could hardly fit, through the layers of clothing and the harness.

Still, she forced the snug fit, her breathing shallow and strained. It was too tight—she wouldn't fit—

All at once, she fell into the open, dark cavern.

Her aching knee throbbed with a vengeance when it struck the uneven floor; she threw her arms out and her palms hit the ground with a jolt of pain that had her landing on her side, gasping hard. Her body trembled from the exertion of the fit and the pain vibrating through her palms.

She lay there, catching her breath, headlight shining along the stone of the bottom of the chamber. The air was musty with dust, salty with ocean. Dust particles swirled through the cold light in lazy patterns. When she turned her head, she could see the stalactites that descended from the ceiling of the cavern. There was the very gentle drip, drip of the water that had collected at their tips.

She'd found it—well. She'd found something.

Fingers trembling from weariness, Mirah pushed herself into a sitting position, her breathing labored and her harness's rope looping out in front of her. From her small hiking bag on her waist she pulled out a water bottle, and she downed half its contents with near desperation. Fuck, that had been hard. When she finally set it down, she gasped again for air, wiping her mouth on her coat sleeve.

Now the harness was strapped off, left to lay on the floor several feet from the entrance. Through the crack, she could just barely see the ocean and black sky. When she stood, her knees shook as they supported her weight, but they did not buckle.

The cavern was cold and nearly perfectly round, its walls rough and uneven. The stone was not white like the rest of Beachy Head—here, it was varying shades of brown and gray, nearly rust colored in places. She crossed the length of the chamber, her steps quietly echoing as though she was in a space larger than she realized. At the other end of the dark space, she realized why.

The cave was merely an antechamber, an entrance. In front of her was the tall mouth of a tunnel entrance.

She pulled her headlight off and held it in her hand, aiming it into the tunnel without entering. It sloped upward slightly, so she could not see where it ended. Around the entrance to the tunnel were engravings she could barely discern for how high they were, a stark contrast to the antechamber's rough, nearly natural appearance

She braced herself and entered the tunnel. She'd come this far—she would not stop.

The walls of the tunnel were engraved—along the top half were tall figures, ancient symbols. Hieroglyphs at the expanse of the bottom half, where she pressed her fingers. Her neck craned upward, eyes wide.

She wanted to see it all. She wanted to see every detail. There—the sun disk. The eye of Ra. The heron.

She'd been right. She'd gotten it right. The hours of studies, the painstaking translations, the numerous maps and countless markers she'd gone through tracing a path here—

She'd gotten it right.

She walked up the sloping tunnel, her fingers tracing the smooth carved stone as she devoured the images with rapture. Here—the Ished Tree, the seat of the Great Heron. There, the Obelisk of Heliopolis. The Benben stone, hovering above the Nu, the sun shining upon its face.

She had started there—she could remember the way her hand pressed carefully to the class that had encapsulated the black stone. She had begun, like all the stories had, at the Benben stone. How far she had come—how so like the ancient scripts.

Everything began at the Benben stone.

Mirah reached as high as she could, and pressed her hand to the bottom of the Sun Boat. Her chest shook, threatening to heave with tears of wonder. Her face hurt—she realized, belatedly, she had been smiling.

The end of the tunnel widened suddenly into another cavern. This one was massive, far larger than the antechamber, and oblong, slanted away from the tunnel and warmly lit. At the far end of the chamber was a brilliant light she could not make out, that filled the whole of the space like a fire would. She turned her headlight off, shoving it into her pocket.

The floor glittered—when she looked down, she found it covered with solid gold feathers, like golden down. They were spread across the floor of the chamber, away from the tall figure that stood at one end of the cave, nearest to the tunnel's entrance. Its form glistened in the light, hauntingly terrible and beautiful.

She approached the still figure slowly, careful to not touch the feathers scattered along the ground. They gathered in circular waves around the statue, more and more abundant at its base.

It was an enrapturing thing—a woman, nearly six feet tall, posed like a titan against some force of nature, her hair blown back and away from her face. Her arm was outstretched towards the light source of the room, as though reaching out for it, or trying to ward it away.

Her long gown stretched out behind her, blown away from her in uneven curves and near-jagged edges. A close inspection revealed—its hemline was carved into feathers like those that filled the room, caught in the midst of a transformation into something larger.

The woman was beautiful, her face detailed to the eyelashes, to the wrinkles in her jaw and the pull and strain of muscles in her throat. The attention to the smallest ridges were exquisite, yet there were no tool marks. It was as though a human had been perfectly frozen in gold.

Despite her beauty, the woman's face was hard and angular, expression twisted into one of rage. Her earrings, large diamonds that framed her jawline, were blown back into her hair, the strands and curls chaotic twists, caught in an unseen storm.

Near reverently, Mirah's hand rose, struck with the urge to stroke the long exposed neck, to press her fingers to the column of golden throat.

AWAY FROM THERE.

The words were not spoken aloud—they did not echo throughout the room—but they filled her head as though they had been whispered directly into her ear. The voice was hers and was not; it was one voice whispering and a thousand shouting, all in the same moment. It sent shivers up her spine—she twisted to where the statue was facing, its arm outstretched to the other end of the cavern. To the light.

Every step across the chamber seemed heavier than the last. Her heart was loud in her ears, loud like the words that echoed through her entire body. Closer, closer.

YOU HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED FOR ME.

It wasn't a question, but she found herself nodding. The room was warm—she shed her coat on the smooth floor without pausing in her slow stride. When she spoke, her tone was hushed with awe.

“You're—alive. You're a living thing. I—“

She had expected magic. She'd known in her core that there were different kinds of magic, artifacts that held power and strength. This was another thing altogether—this was a sentient being. The divine creation of a god, and it lived.

“I. The scripts—I knew you'd be powerful but this is—“

At the other end of the chamber was a circular raised pool, large and shallow. The water inside rippled, reflecting the trembling gold of the light onto the ceiling in constant shifting patterns.

In the center, an obelisk rose from the water. Its point was capped with black. And, hovering at its tip—

“You're beautiful,” she whispered. Her eyes were wet.

When the Sun Disk spoke, it was not in English. It didn't have a voice, not really—but its presence in her mind was like her own voice in her head. It was like an alien presence in her head, that was and was not her.

THE SCRIPTS YOU SPEAK OF WERE WRITTEN BY THOSE WITH LIMITED KNOWLEDGE. THEY HOLD LITTLE VALUE.

It shone spectacularly. Mirah stood at the edge of the pool, staring long after it had burned light patterns into her eyes.

WHY HAVE YOU COME TO THIS PLACE.

Her hands pressed to the smooth raised edge of the pool. She looked into the golden water, and then up again, her eyes narrowed in thought, the skin of her lip caught in her mouth.

TELL ME, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT WHEN YOU ARRIVED HERE?

She stepped back from the edge of the pool, and dropped to a knee to unlace her boots, one after another.

“I—honestly? I don't really know. I mean, I knew there would be an artifact—I figured out its name, and—“ she yanked the boot off “—I. Guess I thought I could find it.”

She was silent for a moment, pulling the other boot off, and then she added, “Sorry, that's not very descriptive. It wasn't really that I cared about some great fancy treasure.”

NO.

“No, it was—I saw a story. Yeah.” She set the boots aside, worked her gloves off. Layer by layer, she shed the clothing. They stuck to her skin from sweat.

“I saw something like a story, and I loved stories, you know? It looked interesting, like it had potential to be a big grand story—but it was missing so many details. It had all these gaps,” she explained, with a little gesture, her fingers outstretched. She looked at the spaces between them. “Like a jigsaw puzzle that was missing some of the pieces. And I saw these parts and—I don't know, more than anything I wanted to fill in the blanks.”

WHY.

“I don't know why,” she said, trying not to be sharp. “It—I felt like I had to so badly, and I don't know—it was like, if I didn't, I would wonder about it forever.”

She could feel the stretch from the curve of her back as she pulled her socks off. She stretched her toes out.

“I started looking for the pieces and,” she swallowed, “For the first time in a really, really long time, I started to feel full again. I could feel excited again. Christ—I saw so much trying to get here. I learned so much just to get here.”

She had taught herself to read ancient languages. Had learned mountain rappelling, had forced herself to stay up into the early hours of the morning inscribing, translating, journaling and researching. Had visited country after country to get here, to this place.

TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN.

Even as she stared at the Sun Disk, her mind reeled back the memory. There was something in her throat, like a fluttering bird. When she spoke, she felt miles away.

“I saw Egypt. Heliopolis, in Cairo. It was—you could drown in the heat and the noise and the color. All that desert and there was still so much color, so much noise. And then, at night, it was so cold and quiet. At—At night, you could see the stars over the pyramids.”

AND.

She inhaled deeply, her chest trembling.

“Greece, after that. As many of the Cyclades islands as I could get to, and Crete too. The water was as blue as the sky, and those buildings built onto the waterfront were—they were just as grand as all the marble and bronze in the museums. Christ, all that blue.”

AND.

Her fingers rose and pushed into her hair, pulling loose the band holding her curls back. She hurt, in a deep, impossible to describe sort of way, deep in her center.

“Scotland—Alba, and then Albion, as you probably know it. I saw the old castles being eaten up by the landscape again—and hills so green they looked like fairy lands, and the white cliffs, and no wonder people believe fairies come here. It's old magic, isn't it?”

She stood again, and stepped to the edge of the pool. She found, belatedly, that her cheeks were wet and her brow was furrowed. Her throat was locking up—Mirah forced herself to breathe, pushing her glasses up and wiping her face.

In place of answering her question, the Sun Disk asked, as though it already knew the answer.

WAS THE QUEST THE GOAL ITSELF?

She yanked the lenses off altogether, the band holding them to her face relaxing with a snap. Without much thought, she dropped them on the raised edge of the pool. Her jaw was tight. She forced the muscles to relax, but her grip on the sharp ridge tightened enough for it to hurt.

“No. It wasn't that—I already said, it was the story. Maybe I saw a lot of beautiful places and learned a lot of new things, and maybe there's something great in that, but I didn't do it for that. It didn't fill me with nearly as much excitement as figuring out the puzzle.”

As she spoke, she lifted a leg and placed it on the ridge, fingers on the hem of her jeans. Rolling the edge up her calf, she continued, slowly.

“Everybody always goes on about the journey being more important than the destination, but that's rarely the case for me. It's important, sure, and maybe it's as important, but it's rarely the deciding factor. The end result has to matter or else everything will feel like a waste of time. It'll be disappointing if the goal isn't important—and I'm not disappointed.”

The leg of her jeans was cuffed above her knee. The other leg, now.

“I think the goal was solving the puzzle. Doesn't matter how small the project or big the task—I get satisfaction out of a job well done. I did it, I did something nobody else had accomplished, and I did it without any help.”

She stood, back straight and shoulders back, squinting at the Sun Disk. She thought, maybe, she was trembling, but when she held her hand in front of her face, it was perfectly still.

“I didn't quit when it was hard, and I didn't let anything get in my way. I wanted to do something big, and I succeeded, and I wanted to be here. I proved I could do it.”

For the first time, she allowed herself to feel proud.

“I did this, I proved that I deserved to be here, right here. I deserved to have this.”

She had done an impossible task. Despite everything, she had won.

I AM NOT A PRIZE TO BE WON, CHILD, it said, and through the echo of its words, she thought she heard the cool tone. She fought the urge to bare her teeth at the name. Her displeasure was painted on her face.

“What are you, then?”

The light that radiated off from it flared, painfully bright, like looking into the center of a star. She raised her arm to shield her eyes, grimacing.

I AM THE BEGINNING OF THE BEGINNING. I AM THE CALLER OF CREATION. I AM THE SOUL OF THE SUN.

It was a roar—it was her blood boiling and her eyes burning, streaming with tears. It hurt—she clenched her teeth and felt them grind. Its outburst continued, wide, filling the room.

She realized, suddenly, that'd she'd been wrong about something incredibly important. Her throat went dry. She lowered her arm.

“Bennu. You're Bennu.”

As sudden as it had begun to flare, the light dimmed, low enough to nearly go out. The pounding in her head ceased, though the ringing was slow to dissipate. She could see the outline of light around the silhouette of the Sun Disk, cutting in clear lines the head of the snake, the detailed edge of its scales.

I am, it said, hushed. She continued, her chest heaving. Her voice was stronger now, bursting with something she could not explain.

“You're the Bennu Bird—The ba of Ra, his soul. The bird that flew over the Nun and made the call for creation, that which created himself, you. You're not just the creator of the artifact, you're the Sun Disk. You're—you're still here. The gods are still here, they're real, you're real.”

She was smiling widely, eyebrows turned up in wonder and awe. Her chest hurt, heart aching.

She was witnessing a miracle. She was looking at a deity given form—not just a divine creation, but an actual, physical god.

It was more than she had ever expected. It was almost too much for her to truly grasp.

I AM, it said again. Its voice, she thought now, was beautiful, and grand. She was understanding, finally, all the parts of her scripts that she could not make sense of. It slid into place, a significant piece to a grand mystery that she had solved herself.

She was in the presence of something so much bigger than herself. It almost made what she was about to do seem horribly blasphemous.

The water of the pool was warm against her calves when she stepped into it. The gentle splash seemed loud in her ears.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DO?

She swallowed, then nodded. Her steps were slow.

TELL ME.

“The scripts—they said there, there was a ruler,” she spoke haltingly, and licked her lips. They had dried and begun to crack from the heat. “A deity, a being that wore the Sun Disk and ruled its first subjects. The first beings, the ones that resembled its first form the most. The—the birds.”

The water splashed against her knees as she waded through it.

“The Disk was passed down, to those who proved their potential.”

AN APT WORD.

ARE YOU A RULER?

Mirah nearly scoffed at that. “Christ—I don't know. Maybe? I make things, I'm an artist. I'm stubborn, and I know right from wrong, and it matters to me, and I'm loud about it. Does that sound like a ruler to you?”

YET YOU CONTINUE TO APPROACH.

YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO RULE?

Closer, she stepped. Closer. From here, she could see the jewel in the eye of the snake, and the unblemished face of the disk. Her face looked back at her, through her blurred vision and the pristine surface.

"I think I'd be an idiot to get this far and not try. Don't you?”

STOP WHERE YOU STAND.

She stopped midstride, breathe caught in her throat. With a sort of defiant slowness, she straightened, her head help up, chin raised. She could not yet reach out to touch it, but from here, she could see the black obsidian head of the obelisk, a sharp diamond. In its face were deeply carved runes.

The Sun Disk pulsed, the light pushing out, pulling in, like a heartbeat.

YOUR QUEST IS NOT YET COMPLETE.

YOU WILL COMPLETE MY TRIALS. YOU WILL PROVE YOUR WORTH.

Her brow furrowed in momentary surprise.

“....okay?”

IF YOU FAIL, YOU WILL PERISH.

Ever the stubborn one, she said, her cheek pulled into her mouth with disdain, “What is this, Indiana Jones?”

WHAT IS THAT.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “Um. A joke. Don't worry about it.”

It continued, without even the slightest change in infliction.

DO YOU ACCEPT THE TERMS?

The light was becoming brighter, the gold edges becoming crisp white. The pulsing was expanding, thudding in her ears. Her mouth became a thin line again, her gaze narrowed. She could feel the pinch of her brows where they furrowed.

“Yeah. I accept.”

It flared, a supernova. It filled everything—everything disappeared. All that remained was white light, blinding her even as she raised her hand to protect her eyes. And, then—

For a moment, there was nothing at all.

–

The waves crashed loudly at the bottom of the cliff behind her. With hesitance, she lowered her hand from her face. Above her, the sun shone intensely, though it did nothing to hinder the sharp cold wind that blew harshly against her.

She pushed her hair away from her face, looking along the grassy hill she faced. The Sun Disk spoke again.

BEFORE YOU STAND TWO ARMIES. FOR CENTURIES, THEIR NATIONS HAVE BEEN AT WAR.

In front of her, two lines stood apart in the long grass. The wind blew between them, their individual flags waving wildly in the air. Beyond that, they were still and silent. The gap between then could not have been more than ten yards, that she looked along with slitted eyes.

OF THE NATIONS, ONE HAS A LARGE ARMY AND SUPERIOR WEAPONRY.

As if on cue, the footmen on her right raised their spears above their heads. The movement caused the shuddering of steel on steel, yet still they were silent. Did they even see her?

THE OTHER NATION MAINTAINS SUPERIOR STRATEGISTS.

On her left, the men raised their shields into the air as one.

Every face was unique, undoubtedly alive. Mirah's teeth dug into the flesh of her lip.

IN THIS WAR, WHO DO YOU BELIEVE WINS?

Her eyes flicked to the English sky, following the clouds that pushed ever closer. When she looked back to the scene, the armies made no movement.

At her sides, her hands curled and uncurled.

She didn't understand this scenario. Was she to guess the winners, or was she the deciding factor? Were these the only options she had?

The volume at which she spoke was not quite a shout, but was nearly there.

“Why--” she licked her lips, dry from the wind. “Why are they fighting?”

THE REASON HAS BEEN LOST.

She frowned.

“Wait, do they know why they're fighting?”

IT IS IRRELEVANT.

“Like hell it is!” she found herself saying, turning away from the field to the cliff, out to the sun. “Do they even speak the same language? Can they communicate at all?”

NO.

“Well,” she said, and it caught her by surprise how much impatience was in her own voice. It was sharp with distaste. “There's your problem! How are they supposed to come to a compromise when they don't even know why they're fighting? When they can't even talk it out? How can they come to any kind of peace?”

YOU HAVE MISSED THE POINT OF THE SCENARIO.

“No!” she shouted. Oh, it was suddenly like she was in middle school again, the eyes burning into the back of her neck as she stood at her desk. “This puzzle or scenario or whatever you want to call it—there are no winners! I can't pick out a winner here, when—when they've been fighting for so long, and nobody's won.”

There was silence. She continued, fierce.

“And even if I was supposed to pick a so called winner, the winner wouldn't be here! These are just soldiers! They're going to die! Here, there aren't any winners, and there won't be any winners until somebody tries to talk it out! But they won't even try! So nobody wins.”

THAT IS NOT AN ACCEPTABLE ANSWER, the Disk said, as she turned back to the hill. The footmen were staring at her, now—they could see her. She swore, looking along the faces she could see, that there was fear in some of them. Resoluteness in others. Acceptance.

They knew they were going to die, she realized.

“Fine,” she said, nearly a snarl. “Then Death wins. Death wins two whole battalions to carry to the afterlife. That's my answer.”

There was a beat.

THAT IS AN ACCEPTABLE ANSWER.

“Wh--”

The wind picked up—she curled around herself, fingers digging into her upper arms. Her hair blew into her face again.

“Are you serious?!”

YOU HAVE PASSED THE TRIAL OF THE MIND.

“But--”

She twisted her neck, letting her hair blow back. Something in her boiled, made her head hurt.

“Why did you accept that answer and not the first?!”

WHY DID YOU NOT CHOOSE ONE OF THE TWO OPTIONS OFFERED?

She squinted, trying not to let her teeth chatter. “Because they both sucked?”

THERE IS YOUR ANSWER, HOWEVER INELOQUENT.

Her lips pressed together.

“Peace is not a bad answer,” she mumbled, tucking her chin into her chest.

In front of her, the battalions turned and began to march. Closer and closer they advanced to the edge of the cliff—to her, they were coming to her.

“Wh--”

She stepped back, glancing behind her to the approaching ledge. It was uncomfortably close, enough for her to be nervous for her balance.

“What's happening?”

THE NEXT TRIAL BEGINS.

The battalions stopped. From the masses, there was a shuffling deep within, and then as though in sync, each party shoved a form forward, onto the flattened grass in front of her. They fell to their knees, heads turned down to the ground.

The wind died.

“What's...”

To her right, a man stepped forward. He pointed at her, then to the body kneeling on the grass. When he spoke, it was in a language beautiful but incomprehensible, and filled to the brim with barely-controlled rage.

She was reminded, for a sickening moment, of her father. Mirah swallowed. She glanced up again to the sun.

“C—Can you tell me what's going on, here?”

From each mass, another man stepped forward, and they pulled the prone forms to their feet, yanking their heads back by the hair to reveal their faces. She nearly reeled backwards, toeing the edge of the cliff. Her eyes widened.

They were children.

The both of them were young, young as her if not moreso. Each of them wore rags with the color of the opposing armies, their wrists and ankles shackled. Even without the wind, the cold air did little kindness to them—she could see their shudderings. A murmur of noise filled the air from each battalion.

Something in her mouth tasted suspiciously of bile.

PRISONERS OF WAR, the Sun Disk said, numb to the drama. EACH OF THEM HAS COMMITED CRIMES TO THEIR OPPOSING NATION. THE RIGHT OF BATTLE BELONGS TO WHICHEVER NATION'S KIN IS STRUCK DOWN FIRST.

“Are,” she started, her voice breathless in a desperation she couldn't place. She inhaled deeply. “Are you shitting me? Are you kidding?”

AS AN UNBIASED PARTY, YOU MUST CHOOSE WHO HAS FIRST RIGHTS.

“You want me to pick which kid is supposed to die?!” Her hands flew out in front of her, gesturing at the madness unfolding. “They're kids!”

Her stomach churned—the muscles in her neck and throat were tight from horror, from rage. She twisted again, on the edge of the cliff, to face the vast, black ocean.

THEY HAVE COMMITED CRIMES, AND ARE NOT BLAMELESS.

“This is wrong! These—these 'scenarios' are flawed and you know it! The choices are too black and white—the world doesn't work like that! Just because somebody did a bad thing, doesn't mean a nation gets to go to war over it! Nobody has to die over it! You can't expect me to choose who gets first dibs on bloodshed, I won't play that game!”

The wind picked up again, biting her face, her eyes. YOU ARE A PACIFIST?

“I'm sensible!”

THERE MUST BE BLOOD. YOU MUST CHOOSE WHO HAS FIRST RIGHTS.

It spoke over her, like she hadn't spoken at all. Like she wasn't there at all, she was nothing.

Yet this was her decision?

Her decision, and yet if she provided any arguments, any other choice, it would ignore her.

That wasn't fair. That wasn't right.

She turned to the prisoners. Eyes burned into her skin—hundreds of them, thousands, maybe. They stared at her, and all she could see were the freckles under the eyes of the children, the little scars on their lips.

There was a little lump in her throat. She looked out to the cliff, her eyes on the frayed edge. She could just see the sea foam at the base of the cliff, where the water crashed unforgivingly into its side, again and again.

Oh.

When she was six years old—

How many times had she dreamed—

Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw set.

“Someone has to die? For the battalions to choose who goes first?”

YES.

Mirah stepped away from the cliff. The children in front of her quaked, the wind cruel against their skin. The flags blew and blew and blew.

Her chest shook with each breath. Was this even real? This scenario—maybe it was all in her head. Her stupid, stupid head, these grand puzzles designed in the perfect ways to make her blood boil.

Could she really imagine something so cruel?

“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

When she was in front of the children, they shook, but she didn't stop—she walked past them, her body between theirs and the masses. She looked out to the individual faces.

Could she really imagine the amount of detail and care here? What if she was wrong?

“What if it's me?” she said, her voice cracking down the middle.

YOUR REASONING?

That wasn't a no.

“This,” she started, haltingly, “this is just another puzzle. It's another impossible choice, like before. You—you say somebody has to die, there has to be blood, but choosing a kid—it'd be based off nothing. There's no context and there's no crime big enough for this. So—So I can't pick one over another, and that only leaves picking both of them.”

Her voice strengthened, firm, unyielding.

“I refuse to do that. That's wrong. You can't make me their judge, and judge over this whole stupid war. It's not my war.”

She braced herself. Her fists were curled tight, nails digging into her palms as she looked out along the wall of people in front of her. Behind her, one sea. In front of her, another. Both unforgiving.

“But you won't let me not choose, so there's got to be a third option. There's always a third option. It's never so black and white.”

Her hands shook.

“So, me. I'm the third choice, and I'm unbiased. I don't belong to either party, killing me won't anger the opposing nation. They get their blood, and the fight's over. It's—it's the way to keep peace.”

She paused, and looked up.

“Right? Am I right?”

For what felt like an eternity, the Sun Disk didn't speak.. And, then, it asked:

YOU WOULD SO EASILY LAY YOUR OWN LIFE DOWN IN PLACE OF STRANGERS? YOU DO NOT KNOW THEIR CRIMES. HOW CAN YOU BE SURE?

“I'm not sure!” she shouted, baring her teeth. “But it's because I don't know them, and I don't know anything about them! Whatever they did, whatever stupid crime you can claim they're guilty of? They're kids! It can't be so big they can't learn! You can't just punish them for making a mistake! You can't put a whole battle on their shoulders!”

She threw her hands out, a frantic gesture. “It's this or I let someone I don't know die, just to decide who gets to throw the first stone! I'm not okay with that, I refuse to have anything to do with it, and you won't take no for an answer, so here's your goddamn scapegoat! Right here!”

Her chest heaved. The wind blew fiercely around her, trying to shake her, to knock her down. Still, she braced, eyes on the gathering storm clouds.

“I'm not taking no for an answer this time.”

As one, the footmen approached her. On all sides they surrounded her, cutting off her view of the cliff's edge and the ocean past it. The clanking of their armors and their weapons and their boots were loud in her ears. She shuddered.

THIS IS AN ACCEPTABLE ANSWER.

They raised their weapons, blotting out her view of the clouds.

Down they came, and their aim was true—every time, the aim was true. Again and again spears dug into her chest; swords slashed into her back; hands grabbed at her arms and twisted and pulled them. Again, again, again.

Through the barrage, she did not black out. It would have been a welcome reprieve to the drawn out slaughter of a single individual, but unconsciousness did not come. She did not become numb. Every strike felt like it was the first.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. She was dying. She was bleeding. Maybe she was screaming, she wasn't sure over the noise and the ringing in her ears.

On and on and on. Maybe this would go on forever. Maybe that was the final trial. Maybe she was supposed to die forever and ever, on this cliffside.

The sky finally disappeared from view, though, maybe, it was just her eyes finally giving up the ghost. She was drowning in what must have been her own blood, filling her lungs with a warmth they shouldn't have known. Then—

YOU HAVE PASSED THE TRIAL OF THE HEART.

Breathe.

When she opened her mouth, it flooded with water. Her body spasmed up into a sitting position, wretching and coughing, choking on what tasted like iron and chlorine. Her chest burned as she gasped desperately for air.

She became vaguely aware, after a period of time, that she was in the pool again. Her body was slumped against the obelisk at the center, and now she curled in on herself. The water was tainted red where it spread around her aching form.

The wounds, she realized faintly, were real. The pain was real. It was like dying—no, that wasn't accurate. She was dying. That was a fact, wasn't it? She was bleeding out. Her vision was fuzzy; was that because she had left her glasses at the edge of the pool? Or was it the blood loss getting to her brain, shutting off her senses one by one? Was it the call to fall unconscious altogether and rest so she wouldn't witness it?

She didn't know. It scared her that she didn't know.

THE NEXT TRIAL BEGINS.

No more, begged a pathetic little voice in her head that still clung to awareness. No more, please. She swallowed hard—it was like choking on needles, coated in rust and tearing her throat open.

YOU ARE DYING.

And like that, it was a thousand times worse.

The numbness that had begun to spread was gone, replaced with the distinct impression that every inch of her was screaming. Her body curled tightly in the pool of water as she opened her mouth and wailed, the sound reverberating through the chamber back at her and causing her ears to ring. Her fingers felt broken and mangled—her eyes were bleeding. Her brain was full of thin long needles. Her mouth tasted of nothing but iron.

Her spine—every vertebrae seemed to unalign and snap her backwards, arching her ragged bloody chest into the air out of the water. Every breath she tried to take seemed to fill her lungs with more and more fluid—coughing made the agony and the weight worsen, aggravating whatever wound was causing it. She thought, maybe, her ribs had shattered and lodged into her heart, piercing the tissue and causing the arteries to spurt everywhere into her.

Oh, god. She was going to die here, like this.

YOU ARE SUFFERING.

She was going to disappear. She was going to go slowly and painfully, and nobody would even miss her. She would vanish, and nobody would even know it had happened. An unrecovered body at the suicide jump. A statistic, a tally on a board. She'd never had any more merit—she'd never been more. She'd never done more. She'd never done anything for anybody, and now it was too late.

Was she still screaming? Did she even really know how to anymore? Was her body capable of it?

YOU THINK WHAT YOU FEEL NOW IS PAIN? THE EXISTENCE YOU SEEK IS PAIN. IMAGINE, CHILD, THIS AGONY TENFOLD. EVERY MOMENT. EVERY DAY. AN EXISTENCE OF THIS SUFFERING. THIS LONELINESS, THESE CHOICES, FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY.

Nobody loved her. Nobody had ever known her enough to love her—to love her, the person she was supposed to be and not the one they'd all wanted her to be. She could have been so much, she could have done so much more, and nobody even knew her real name. Her life was over before it had ever really begun to be hers.

YOU SEEK A PURPOSE, DO YOU NOT? YOU SEEK TO BECOME PART OF SOME GRAND SCHEME. TO BE HEARD.

THIS IS THE FATE YOU SEEK?

She sobbed distantly, and the motion tore her chest. She ran her mangled fingers through her hair, clawing at her scalp.

It was in her head. It wouldn't get out of her head.

YOU ARGUE THE CHOICES I HAVE SHOWN YOU ARE FLAWED, BUT THEY WILL OCCUR AGAIN. THEY WILL BECOME YOUR EVERY MOMENT. THE PAIN YOU CHOSE IN YOUR SELECTIONS, YOU WILL HAVE TO CHOOSE AGAIN. AGAIN. AGAIN.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND? THIS IS THE FATE THAT AWAITS YOU.

LET GO.

There was no more air in her lungs—every breath she tried to take was shallow, pained, a wretched little gasp she could barely hear over the pounding in her ears. It was impossible, that she was still alive, and yet, still, she was alive. For however little time left, she was still alive.

I WILL END YOUR AGONY. I WILL LET YOU REST.

LET GO.

She couldn't think. She couldn't focus. She wanted to focus.

Focus.

The children on the cliff-side that she'd put herself in front of. Were they alive?

Had that been real?

When she was a little girl, she had been told that her every moment was preparing to take care of her elders. She had not been offered comfort, and so had never sought it. She had spent thousands of moments by herself, pushing herself, holding herself, giving herself the only comfort she could.

She had mastered, at a painfully young age, the art of silent weeping. Crying so hard your body shook, while the wails you were desperate to release wracked your lungs. When it was over, she, a child, had wiped her face and straightened her shoulders, and that was it.

Countless moments by herself. Hundreds of nights silently imagining a world where someone loved and cared for her. It had taken an impossible length of time for her to realize children shouldn't experience such things.

Children were supposed to be protected. Children were not supposed to carry the weight of responsibilities. They weren't supposed to be told that their pain was their own fault.

She'd been told, when she begged for help, that it was her fault. It was always her fault.

Even here, aching in the water, for her own stupid decisions—

She hoped those children were alive.

It's funny, the morals you gather in your life. Of all the nightmares, and the loneliness, and the cruelty, she'd come out furious. All of it, and she'd come out with the fierce belief that—

That children shouldn't have to hurt like that.

LET GO.

She—

She wouldn't—

LET GO.

She wasn't going to—

A noise forced itself out of her throat.

“Nn—“

She choked on her tongue, sobbed. Her wrecked fingers scrambled on the tiles at the bottom of the pool as she struggled, blindly, to push herself onto her knees. Get up. Get up.

It hurt. She hurt.

LET GO.

“N—No, no.”

She wouldn't die. She wasn't going to die here. She refused. She refused.

When she was sixteen years old, she had nearly run her car into a building. At seventeen, she dreamed she stopped existing, and she waited day after day for the right moment to disappear altogether.

And she didn't. She didn't do those things, despite how badly she wanted to. She had come so close to the edge of despair, of giving up, of giving in, of letting go.

She stayed alive. She stayed. She chose life. Again and again.

It had been out of spite, mostly. Spite and anger had fueled her, had strengthened her. She had a desperate need to prove she could do what everyone had said she couldn't do. She was going to stay alive, and she was going to help people where people hadn't helped her.

She wasn't going to die here. She wasn't done being spiteful and angry. She wasn't done helping kids who hurt like she hurt. She wasn't don't protecting people who needed protecting.

She wasn't done.

LET GO.

“No!”

There was a heat in the tips of her fingers. She could feel the strain in her shoulder blades, the way her twisted neck ached as she forced it to obey her.

“I won't!”

Through the haze she forced herself to wade through, and the persistent shrieking every muscle made, she was struck with the overwhelming sensation that the Sun Disk was examining her. Inspecting her; the broken creature on the bottom of the pool that dared defy it, and its bizarre and broken mind.

She shuddered and ignored it.

Get up. Get up.

She'd felt worse, she told herself. She'd wanted to die before. It had been more overwhelming then than it was now.

She could get through this. She would prove to this thing, too, that she was stronger than whatever it thought would be enough to break her.

She couldn't stand, couldn't find the footing, but her hands pressed to the flat face of the obelisk in front of her. She pushed herself against it, pressing her forehead to the smooth stone. Her fingers pressed into the sharp edges. It was a hot surface, towering over her. The light at its peak hovered at the edges of her failing vision.

YOU CHOOSE TO LIVE, DESPITE THE CONSEQUENCES?

The heat was spreading rapidly, through her forehead and fingers, into her aching limbs and mess of a chest. The pain had begun to fade in its place, until all that remained was a dull throbbing.

YOU CHOOSE LIFE?

She made a faint noise of affirmation into the stone face, her eyes shut. She could barely feel the water anymore.

YOU HAVE PASSED THE TRIAL OF WILL.

I YIELD TO YOU.

She was tired, her cheek pressed to the obelisk. There was little room for satisfaction or pride through the exhaustion.

TELL ME YOUR NAME.

She could breathe again. The wet ache that had threatened to drown her was gone. Yet, her breaths still shuddered from the effort. She whispered into the stone, resigned.

"Mirah. Mirah."

THAT IS NOT YOUR NAME.

Her eyes snapped open.

It knew. Of course it knew—it knew everything. It had known from the beginning, hadn't it? It had known who she was. It knew what would make her fight harder than anything.

It had known she would win.

“You're right,” she hissed. Her teeth were grit again. Her palms dug into the edges of the obelisk, stinging and burning as she pushed against the rock. She wanted to stand.

“May. My name is May.”

She'd chosen the name herself, years and years ago. She knew herself as no other name, despite the one she'd been given at birth. She'd always been May, the moment she started living outside of how she'd been told to.

No one had ever referred to her by it but herself, but it was her. The person she'd always been.

I YIELD TO YOU, CROWNBEARER.

REACH FOR ME.

May lifted her head to the light, the lines of her face cast into sharp illumination. The Sun Disk shone. She lifted her hand, reaching up, up.

REACH FOR ME, MAY.

Her fingers traced the smooth golden face. She spoke, her throat dry, her intent filling the cavern with a power to rival its own.

"Make me a queen."

The pool glowed with its own golden sunlight. The ceiling of the cavern was painted with its patterns, shimmering brighter, brighter. The warmth of the water turned to boiling, then to burning.

Where her fingers touched the Sun Disk, there was a deep, firey sensation that swelled inside of her. It was sharp and piercing—it made its way out her chest and to her skin and her face. When she looked up at her fingers, she found them coming undone. Golden ash where the tips had been, floating serenely in the air. Her hair, now, too, came apart, the strands crushed to fine gold.

She began to scream again.

She was torn to pieces, shred, taken apart until all that were left were the atoms, glowing bright like stars. And, still, she was present. Still, she lived.

It burned, like standing in a bonfire, but there was no smoke. There was only heat, and fire, only the intense flash and the stars, the billion billion billion stars that had once been a person.

She lived, she died. She lived.

And, then, again—

Breathe.

She gasped hard, her body shaking against the obelisk. The light of the cavern began to dim to little more than a faint glow, as though lit by a weak candlelight.

Her body was whole. Her fingers were pressed to the stone, she could feel its engravings under her nails. The pain that had flooded her—the pain of coming apart at the seams—slipped out, as though it would spread through the water instead.

Her sight returned. When May looked up, she could see, even in the dim glow, the details her face, reflected into the smooth face of gold. Her vision was clear, crisp.

Slowly, she braced herself against the obelisk, and pulled herself to her feet.

The Sun Disk hovered in front of her. With lidded eyes, she examined the object, her gaze cool, and then, as though she was grabbing her keys, she reached for it gracelessly. It changed in her hand, but she did not bother to look at it as she waded across the water to the edge of the pool.

She forced it to sit atop her head. It stayed there without her holding it—it belonged there.

She began to gather her belongings—her coat, her boots—as though nothing had happened. Across from her, the statue stared at the empty and dim pool.

Your predecessor, the Disk whispered. And, then, as an addendum, Do not fail me like she has.

She said nothing. As she walked past the statue, the gold feathers that covered the ground in front of her parted, like real feathers, blown gently by the wind.

Her footing was somewhat shaky. The walk down the tunnel to the antechamber was a slow one. This time, she paid no heed to the inscriptions on the wall as she braced her hand against her. With each step, her firmness grew, until, as she made her way to the mouth of the cave entrance, she was standing straight.

The harness lay forgotten on the ground. She didn't need it anymore.

Through the crack that was the entrance, May could see the light of breaking dawn. The ocean shimmered with breaking sunlight. She climbed through the crack, holding herself against the walls that kept her from falling into the crashing waters below. From here, she scanned the horizon with narrowed eyes.

It was like seeing a new world.

Ataret, the Sun Disk called. Distantly, she recalled the word as Jewish. Ataret, choose your form.

She thought, the idea rolling in her head. Below, the water continued to spray cool mist up towards her.

She chose.

The change felt like nothing—it was like shedding a loose layer of clothing from her frame, shaking it off to reveal her shape.

From the crack along the side of Beachy Head, a small bird, barely a blot along the white wall, fluttered and took flight upwards. The sparrow went unnoticed by the humans that stood at the edge, studying the anchor posts that anchored nothing. It dived down the hillside, over the cresting peaks, and then disappeared.

#may writes

99 notes · View notes