#jest the Jack rabbit

[lady-nuggetz]

The world needed the return of Jengers so I came to deliver.

I missed doing these they're so fun to play around with if only it wasn't such a hassle sometimes!!!

Original panels are here:

[knizuu]

Gifts for @lady-nuggetz and @khaines-domain!!!

[advwithgeneral1855]

The General Locomotive with his Friend the Texas and his love Turtledove

I was built in 1855. I worked hauling freight and passengers from Atlanta to Chattanooga. We were the first engines the WARR and Northern Georgia knew. We were fabulous machines. Flying down rails through open pastures and towns, blowing smoke haughtily and pounding the rails with all our might. People would come from miles away to hear our shrill whistle and listen to our song. "Look at me. Look at me. Must be fast. Must be fast. Come along. Come along. Must be fast." Rushing through the beautiful Georgian country-side was a thrill. I loved watching birds and butterflies. Sometimes a jack-rabbit or a coyote would race me down the track. The beautiful fields and blooming flowers made an engine glad to be alive. As we would steam down. the track we would see cows, donkeys, mules pulling carts and horses pulling carriages. We would look at those creatures and scoff. "Useless creatures. We can pull far heavier loads faster. Your days are numbered." Unlike many of the younger engines, we replaced horses and mules not older and out of date locomotives. Often our arrogance would manifest whe. passing through a town or stopping at a station. We would see a beast of burden and wheesh steam at them often startling them. Sometimes they would run away and hurt the humans who cared for them. I remember once I scared a horse pulling a wagon so bad he ran into a smiths shop. The fire from the forge spread to the hay in the stable and burned down a house. the guilt and remorse I felt was incredible. I realized that I would never act so foolishly again. Any further hard feelings I could harbor would be eternally squelched on August 11, 1856. A wagon of cotton bales had caught a wheel on the track outside big shanty. It was a blind curve and by the time I rounded the bend it was too late. Uhhh.. I still shudder to think of the accident and the fate of that poor animal. I need not divulge gory details, but I then gained my first understanding of life and mortality. I arrived at Moons Station a much wiser engine.

Yonah was sitting in the siding for me to pass. He quickly picked up on my mood and asked what happened. He was very sympathetic and kind, even though we always argued over who was stronger and faster. He told me to talk to Florida, that Florida had a similar accident before. I told Yonah that I couldn't because I had been so vile to him and the other engines. To my great surprise he retorted, "Tis all in good jest, my young friend. All in jest. Florida and I bantered much the same when we built this line. Just speak to him." That night when I reached Chattanooga, there was Florida. "Why the long face there General? After all, you're only 2 hours late. I thought you were the fastest and more reliable than us antique kettles." I said nothing, just sat looking at my cow catcher. Florida stopped smirking and gave me the most deep, cutting, terrifying stare. He looked deep in my smoke box door and down my tubes- he saw into my soul you could say. His expression softened a little. We spoke no more for a few minutes. The late night passenger and mail train was being loaded. Florida broke the silence in his booming grandfather voice. "Something happened to you today, didn't it?" I said nothing, just looked down. "My dear engine, you have me starting to worry," he insisted. "Yonah said you'd understand, that I should talk to you," I mustered. "Talk to me about what?" Florida asked. "He said you had an accident like mine, with a horse," I explained. He let out a slow wheesh and only said "oh." We sat there a few more minutes. "They're almost done loading," Florida began. "But I want to say that, 'Yes', I have. It was when we were building the tunnel. There were a lot of workman, wagons, horses, mules, equipment, tools, and things." He paused dramatically. "During the blasting, I dropped off some rails and ties and was dragging back some of the rock and soil when the workers set off a charge of dynamite. One of the horses was scared and charged towards the rails. The engineer was helping us back onto the gondolas and when the blast went off he looked away. My driver misunderstood the signal and opened the throttle. My driver saw the blast and some rocks falling and accidently opened the throttle all the way. That poor horse had charged between my flatbed and the gondolas. It was a few seconds before they stopped me and then realized what happened to that poor horse."

As Florida became quiet I gasped in horror and disbelief. I saw his eyes narrow and his boiler became cold. I started to ask him more about the horse when he spoke. "Much worse happened on the railway building the line, but the guilt I carry stays with me. They say that what happened wasn't my fault, and it was all in the name of progress, but those experiences still leave scars in my firebox. Maybe that why I've always been such a contentious old goat to young yungins." He looked at me softly. "Well," I spoke. "I'm sorry I've been an arrogant boastful brat." He grinned and laughed. "You should have heard me when I was a new engine!" he exclaimed. "Or... maybe its best you don't. Embarrassing stories those." I smiled. My boiler had never felt so warm and my fire never burned as bright as it did that night. Florida set off with his train and I settled down to rest up for the morning

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Something Ends, Something Begins chapter 6/7 - still ‘Bad Witcher AU’. The song at the end is Quedate Aqui from Desperado.

Warnings: none (unless you count friendly ribbing and name-calling, weasels (one particular weasel), some saucy wording, and erotic food. kind of.)

*

The table is set, the white cloth covering it embroidered with shapes of flowers and animals stitched in vibrant colors, each corner adorned by a form of a stag raising on its hind legs with its head bowed, ready to fall with the full weight of its body on a contender. Rabbits and foxes - not one alike any other found on the fabric - peek from behind the green grasses and the bushes full of red and black berries. The smell of burning fat and caramelized sugar grows stronger as Mojmira pours another cup of rowanberry wine on the roast.

Jack tries to slink by Lila unnoticed but she still catches him by his ear as he passes, the disapproving twist of her lips never budging from its place.

"It is your brother's hair-cutting, and you're shirking your responsibilities. Go, help your sister."

"Yes, mother," Jack answers. He reflexively massages his ear for a bit before approaching Mojmira, who gives up her place by the spit to him with hushed words that put blush on his cheeks. He swats at her, and she ducks away with a giggle and a poke of her elbow to his side.

Gabriel, well aware it is his turn to hear admonishments, brings his attention back to Lila and her stern gaze even if his eyes want to linger on Jack for a moment longer.

"Witcher," she acknowledges him with a curt nod, "did you find what you were looking for?"

Did he? Gabriel observes Jack turning the spit, his face and neck still reddish, focused ostensibly on his task, but the half-smile and the twist of his hips tell a whole other story. Lord Murders-A-Lot sits perched on his shoulder with its nose scrunching as it scents the air.

Further in the back, in the shade of a plum tree, Sombra, with the lute hanging off her shoulder, talks with Adan. He postures - does he bark up a wrong tree, for in this one a cat that cares not for the dogs sleeps  - and futilely tries to stay his eyes from her barely fastened shirt.

"I found a thing I never knew to look for."

Lila nods again, the incline of her chin still sharp - but deeper - the rings in her hair tinkle against one another with the movement.

"Take good care of him, witcher. There might not be another one of my son's ilk left in this world."

"You knew?"

"The babe slept dead in my womb only to wake up." Lila twines her fingers together over her stomach. "When he opened his eyes, I saw a boy I'd seen once before, when my mother brought me along to the village's alderman to see about the tylwyth foundlings."

Gabriel remembers it, Jack's small arms wrapped around him, chin propped on his shoulder, and the woman, her rich brown hair freely slipping from behind her back as she leaned down to speak in a language he was yet to learn, with a girl child at her side holding nervously her flowing skirts. Soon after, they were both handed off to the witchers regardless of Jack's promises of the village taking in the cubs even as strange as Gabriel. In retrospection, Jack was the stranger one, with eyes too blue and the complexion that knew no sun. A changeling, if there ever was one.

"And will you give him up to me, just like that?"

Lila scoffs, her lips quirking up almost imperceptibly as she regards him silently, enjoying his jest.

"He isn't mine to give, witcher, no more than the wind swaying the wheat or the songbird's trill."

It is true Jack belongs only to himself - there is no power in the world to force him to do naught but what he wants as long as he is what he is - and it is this fickle nature Gabriel had once dreaded, for no reason other but his own concern.

"He isn't yours to give, but mine to take."

Lila smiles, her forehead bowed; under the lashes, her dark eyes seem so much older, like they'd seen the world turn whichever way one too many a time.

The eyes of a sorceress.

Gabriel glances to the forest. No wonder she and hers were spared from the scourings.

"Come, witcher, sit, for today is the time of revelry, and you are our honored guest," Lila directs him to the table with a motion of her hand, turning already as if she considers their chat finished. Gabriel nods. The contract has been fulfilled. The fate won't be denied.

Sombra slipping into place by his side disperses those thoughts.

"Melitele's nips, am I hungry," she mutters and stretches vicariously before she switches her attention from the table to him, fingers idly tracing the line of her collarbone. "You look younger."

"I feel older."

"You're just tired."

"I don't tire," Gabriel counters, but Sombra smirks and pats her chest above her heart.

"You're as stubborn as I am, but take it from someone with more experience than you, just let yourself feel, let him take care of you."

"Like Amelie had of you?" The bait is tempered by the name, one of the many small concessions Gabriel made over the years, and the lines of Sombra's face soften into a shy expression of contentment.

"Yes."

"Have you...?"

"He's been... most accommodating."

Gabriel merely nods, his attention stolen for a moment by the commotion Jack and Mojmira make, both laughing as they try to take the roast off the spit while struggling to keep it in one piece, broken up only by Lila showing up to help.

"How is she?" He acquiesces, finally.

"Better than ever." Sombra quietens, an unguarded smile flickers across her lips. "Thank you. For asking."

They spend minutes in shared silence, neither wanting to break the moment of understanding - the interruption comes from Wrenund's booming laughter from the inside of the house. The man himself appears in the doorframe shortly after, leading Nielub in front of him with his hand on the boy's shoulder; they're both dressed in festive linen shirts bleached impossibly white, with cuffs and collars embroidered with red thread in a simple pattern. Gabriel finds he can't not smile at the boy's almost unrestrained energy, his wide eyes shining with excitement while he struggles to act solemn even if the day is one of celebration.

"Should I be the good godmother,” Sombra whispers, “or the spurned sorceress?"

"The versemonger.”

"Ah, so be it." She braces her elbow on Gabriel's shoulder and leans against his side. They both watch Nielub sit on the prepared stool - his legs bounce up and down, and he grips the wood of the seat hard enough for the color to leave his fingers. Wernund looks to his wife, who now stands together with Mojmira a few steps away. She nods, and Adan brings forward a jug of water, Jack walks behind him with shears in his hands.

"Nielub, my son, today, you become a man." Wernund gently tilts the boy's head back. With barely a trickle of water, he soaks Nielub's hair through and slicks them to his head before exchanging the jug for the shears. The sound of metal grazing on metal and hair being cut fills the sudden silence even the birds don't dare to disrupt. In the fields, cicadas sing.

Each lock shorn, a piece of childhood shed for the new responsibilities. Wernund works with gravity and care - and when he's finished, and Jack retrieves the shears, he stands in front of his son, urging him to stand up too.

"Today, you leave your child name behind. It has served its purpose and protected you. From now on, you are Woj, and you will be as strong as your name, you will be strong for your family, and no evil will ever best you."

Nielub - now Woj - smiles wide and throws his hands around Wernund's waist in an exuberant hug.

Jack thrusts the shears at Adan while giving him a determined look; Adan accepts them, rolls his eyes at Jack's back as he retreats towards the table in a hurry. Lila and Mojmira both take their turn to hold Woj close for a fleeting moment, whisper secret silent words to him.

This time, Gabriel's medallion stirs under the cloth of his shirt, the movement barely perceptible, but it's there: a relief, grounding him in the feeling of reality, the last vestiges of doubt dissipating like tendrils of morning mist blown away by the noonday breeze. Sombra notices, too, her face lighting up with well-hidden interest, and her arm shifting against his side - until the short reverie is broken by Jack planting the whole roast on a wooden board in the middle of the table before he unceremoniously forces himself between them.

Living. Breathing. Moving not unlike a drop of quicksilver in a juggled vial.

"Away with your bony elbows, ungulate," Sombra chastises him as she makes space. "One could cut jewels on your hips."

"I'm still growing!"

"The wrong way around."

"The right way," Jack pouts. His arm sneaks around Gabriel's neck, palm hanging loosely over his shoulder, fingertips brushing against the fabric. Gabriel covers Jack's hand with his own, his thumb pressing slow circles into warm skin. "You just wait, I'll show you."

"Surely, I am scared out of my wits."

"Of course, you are, you third-rate lute-ruining bard. After all, I am me," Jack pulls her close with his other hand and presses a heartfelt kiss to her temple, at which she laughs, pushing him jokingly away.

"Piss off, ungulate," Sombra murmurs with no malice, "or I'll have you stuffed and mounted.”

"The horror. Just promise you won't be fucking anyone on my back, I've heard stories, you know."

"Melitele's holy teats!" Sombra moans, looking to the sky, and Jack, taking the advantage of her indignation, turns to Gabriel to sneak a quick chaste kiss to his lips.

Gabriel smiles against his mouth, the whispered 'later, little cub' coiling warmly behind his ribs even as Jack backs off slightly, eyes cast down but not really, not a shy or proper bone in his body, nor in the toothy grin languishing on his face.

"So, who's hungry?"

In an answer, Gabriel's stomach rumbles with anticipation.

"Shouldn't we wait...?"

But Jack is up and hunched over the table with the knife in his hand, fingers pressing down on the roast as he masterfully carves out thick slices of the meat bleeding sweet-smelling juices. Just in time, too, for the whole family to approach - Woj led to the seat of honor at the head of the table, Wernund at his right and Lila on his left - Adan and Mojmira bring the bread and the wine before settling down, her giggling and him merely rolling his eyes in kind. They scuffle for a moment under the table, Mojmira emerging with a triumphant smirk and Adan giving up with a pained hiss, his palms raised in an admission of defeat - yet he still gives Jack a knowing look before Lord Murders-A-Lot scurries up the tablecloth to chitter at him. Almost swatted away in return, the weasel runs into Jack's waiting palm, and then up the length of his arm, to perch on Jack's shoulder shortly before it settles pressed against his neck.

"You dare to raise a hand to my cherished retainer?" Jack mock-challenges Adan.

"'Tis a foul beast you entertain at your court," Adan plays along, eyes narrowed with a smirk. "Good the vatt'ghern has arrived to slay the bloodthirsty creature."

"Only if you have the coin, good sir, half upfront." Gabriel chuckles, and Jack collapses into a fit of giggles. Mojmira shushes them and pointedly looks to the head of the table.

Woj, with his father's guidance, picks a loaf of bread and breaks it in half. The first piece he offers to Wernund, the other to Lila; repeats until every guest at the table has their own piece of bread.

"I'm hungry!" He declares with unbidden enthusiasm - Adan toasts to it with his cup and a holler of 'hear, hear'. Gabriel hardly notices the meat making its way to his bowl in the sudden boom of liveliness - Jack and Sombra argue loudly over some insignificant trifle. Adan takes sides and Mojmira laughs unbidden before dishing out a scathing remark Sombra takes with no grace whatsoever, sputtering and tongue-tied for once - but that might be the doing of Mojmira’s bodice inconspicuously slipping lower.

Life goes on, regardless.

"Little cub," Jack draws his attention with a whisper, his eyes almost black in the most human way, cheeks flush with rowanberry wine as are his lips - a droplet of it in the corner of his mouth; Gabriel wonders if it would be sweeter if tasted in a kiss, almost succumbs. Jack presses a cut morsel into his mouth; fingers brush against his teeth and tongue, slip out and trace his jaw, stop at his neck, press on the pulse of his heart in a deliberate caress. "Eat. And drink. You are a guest at my feast, too, cub."

Gabriel chews on the meat, slowly. The roast is surprisingly succulent, meat aged even if the game was caught yesterday, with a hint of bitterness broken by the juices, and chased by the tang of the wine.

"Good," Jack murmurs and offers another bite with his fingers.

The conversations flow around them as if no-one takes notice, Jack's eyes imperceptibly darker - a shadow clinging to his irises - his smile light and possessive, like nature reclaiming the once carved out of it domicile, embracing it back after the time of long separation. Which is, probably, the truth of it, on some level of an abstract interpretation. Gabriel does not mind, for it is the way Jack is and loves - and he wouldn't have it any other way, not since the moment he had asked a god to step out of his forest domain, foolish as he was then.

Banishing the traitorous doubting thoughts, he settles into the quiet comfort of being cared for, unfamiliar and foreign after being denied it for years. They will be back, he knows, the whispers of disbelief questioning his own sanity - but for now, Jack straddles his lap. And the wine Gabriel was right about. It is sweeter when drunk from the offered lips, the taste of it mingling with the living chaos.

Before she disappears from their side, Sombra glances fondly at him over Jack's shoulder. A shape of a magic-wrought creature hovers above her stretched-out palm. The light weaves into a dragonlike form that takes flight as soon as it's finished - joined soon by others of its ilk in a slow dance.

Woj chases after the illusions with laughter, enchanted both by the show and the wine flushing his face with a blush. Sombra smiles as she joins him in the play. A moment later, horseback knights woven with magic enter the fray.

Jack untangles his fingers from Gabriel's hair and slips into space she's left behind - his palm still rests on Gabriel's thigh, light and warm - and rejoins the conversation as if he's never abandoned it. Gabriel lets it flow around him, sipping on his drink. The sun starts to dip and the boy, tired out by the playtime, naps with his head on his mother's breast. Jack gives up his seat to Sombra and her lute, a fleeting touch sliding down Gabriel's back before he leaves.

Mojmira and Adan light the torches, Jack brings cold fish in a still crisp batter and, somehow, more of the wine. Gabriel wonders if Lila brews that much of it - or is it only for the festivities - or maybe there is an else thing afoot, and if Sombra might glean the secret to it.

The first notes of the lute sound over the cicada song that grows steadily in volume.

Jack unceremoniously deposits himself sideways in Gabriel's lap, with a full cup in his hand he tosses off as soon as Gabriel puts an arm around his waist to keep him stable and in place.

"I do think, the day calls for the most splendid songs," Sombra strikes a chord, a devilish smirk on her lips, and Jack almost lunges at her with a squawk - if not for Gabriel's grip over his stomach.

"Don't you dare, witch!" Jack sputters.

"Oh, but I do dare, ungulate, it’s the least you deserve!"

She continues the melody in spite of Jack spitting and hissing like a cat at a witcher. Gabriel chuckles over the comparison before he presses another cup into Jack's palm and feels him capitulate in time for Sombra to start the song not fit for any place other than a tavern, or a brothel.

"Please, just kill me," Jack whines with his face buried in the crook of Gabriel's neck when everyone at the table seems to know some semblance of the words that go with the tune, snorts angrily at the final chorus of 'Jack the Stag, he's never going to leave a lass unsatisfied'. "I demand reparations, for my slandered reputation."

"If you, maybe, had a reputation first, to slander," Sombra waves him off before starting on another song.

"See, the next time? I'll leave you hanging up there in some tree, just so you know, so you can reap what you sow."

"Cry me a river, ungulate."

Hiding under Gabriel's chin and with his fingers kneading into Gabriel's sides, Jack whines about ungrateful traitorous witches - it's all too familiar, as if nothing has ever broken this idyll up - and for this, Gabriel is thankful.

Soon, Lila retires, with Woj barely conscious in her arms mumbling sleepily as she carries him into the house, and Wernund follows, leaving the night to the youth, as he says, his old bones needing their full night's rest.

Sombra switches up her repertoire for an even raunchier one, perfectly happy to just entertain them all with a song between the sips of the wine Jack, despite his words, feeds to her to keep her throat wet. Her eyes follow Mojmira's silhouette with unbidden appreciation when she leaves - and then with pure adoration when she comes back with two more pitchers.

Somehow, Adan and Jack get into a drinking contest, each trying to drink the other one under the table in the shortest time possible, and, inexplicably, Gabriel finds his cup always full when he brings it to his lips, even after Jack bumps into it with his elbow and spills all. The effect is not a too-long wait away, Aden lies braced on the table, with his head buried in his arms, half-awake and clutching at the empty earthen jug.

"And don't ask me if I love you, don't you worry about what I think," Sombra hits low mournful notes on her lute.

Jack slips off his lap and Gabriel snatches his hand before he has a sliver of a chance to disappear; Jack meets his eyes with a demure look and fingers wrapping around Gabriel's own wrist as he pulls him off the bench.

"Just know I'm yours in my own way," Sombra sings. And Gabriel knows he's a sacrificial lamb led to its slaughter under the full moon - led past the dying torches - past the threshold of the barn he steps over out of his own unprompted volition. "But when I want to be your dream, I won't be satisfied with just your kisses."

[ringmaster-jack]

@jest-a-puppeteer

Happy the little creature caught his attention, Jack sat himself at the edge of the bed to watch. His fingers clutched the rim of the mattress, hiding the lower half of his face beyond that.

Rather than run in terror, the seemingly fearless rabbit only gave a little twitch at being prodded in the nose before it decided to start licking at the clown man's fingers.

"His name is Darlington, Ivan gave him to me. Evone? Iveen..Tree guy."

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 27

Chapter Summary - Tom, Alexianna and Lily go to Suffolk for a weekend with the Hiddleston clan, leading to conversations among family members of the similarities of Lily and Tom and his place in her life, and her in his.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @theoneanna

Request if you wish to be tagged

Alexianna was unsure how she made it all the way to Suffolk in the car, but she succeeded. Lily got bored en route and fell asleep while Tom gave her the rundown of Sarah and Yakov, interests and jobs and other such things to help her feel as though she was not a complete stranger with his older sister and her husband. When they arrived at the house, Alexianna smiled. ‘This is your mum, this is so your mum.’ She beamed as she got out of the car and walked around to get Lily out of the backseat. ‘Come on Lazybones.’

She had woken Lily ten minutes out so that the child would not be cranky as they went into the house, hoping not to give a bad first impression. Lily looked up at the house in awe. ‘It’s so pretty, is this a hotel?’

‘No Princess, it is not a hotel. This is my mum’s house.’ Tom grinned.

In the few weeks it had been since he mentioned the trip to her, Tom had a few bits and pieces he had to do for work, but she was busier, Alexianna was juggling work and study and still managing to be a mother too, Tom watched in awe as she did it all. He had not been able to convince her to move house yet, but with her schedule, he failed to see how she could even consider it. If anything, he insisted she join him in Suffolk to get herself some R&R. In that time also, Lily went from “Darling” to “Princess” as per her own request, not liking that Tom used the word on others.

‘Nan is here!’ she squealed with joy almost elbowing Alexianna in the face as she tried to get out of the seat. Tom took their luggage as Lily dragged her ever battered two rabbit teddies and rushed to the door, Alexianna closing the car door before helping Tom with the bags.

It was Emma who opened the door, beaming brightly at Lily. ‘Hello, Princess Lily.’ She bent down and cuddled Lily who adored the attention. ‘We have someone who is dying to meet you.’

Lily showed no fear as she walked into the house with Emma and looked around. ‘It’s so pretty.’ She looked at the art and pictures that Diana had up before giggling. ‘Is that Tom?’

Emma looked and laughed. ‘Yep, he was about your age then.’

Lily giggled more. ‘Do not tell me Mum has that picture up on the wall again?’ Tom groaned as they came in.

‘But small smiley Tom is fun.’ Alexianna laughed, ‘You looked so adorable...what happened?’ Emma snorted in laughter.

‘Aren’t you funny?’ Tom stated bemusedly.

‘I like to think I am.’ She smiled, causing him to grin back at her.

‘Come on, everyone else is in the kitchen.’ Emma smiled as they made their way in. Just as they came out of the living room, there was a dart of something back into the kitchen, something smaller, child-sized. ‘Sophie.’ Her aunt warned as they came to the door.

‘You are taking forever.’ Came another voice from inside before they entered and were met by everyone.

Immediately Lily noticed Diana and rushed over to her, the older woman smiling as she hugged her. ‘Hello, Sweetheart.’

‘I missed you, your house is pretty.’

‘Thank you, love.’ They noticed another person standing next to them. ‘Lily, this is my granddaughter Sophie, Sophie, I told you about Lily.’

‘My adopted cousin.’ Sophie beamed. ‘Do you like Shimmer and Shine?’

Lily’s face lit up and she started singing the theme, which Sophie joined in with and dragged her from the room to her toys.

‘We are not going to have a moment’s peace for the weekend.’ Emma laughed, she noted the peculiar look on Sarah’s face before giving her a confused one.

Sarah just smiled when she realised her sister was looking at her. ‘Hello, little brother.’ She jested.

‘I am six inches taller than you and only eighteen months younger, you were still in nappies for goodness sake.’

‘But I am still older.’ Sarah teased as she hugged him before looking to a slightly sheepish looking Alexianna. ‘Hello, I have not seen you in years, how do you look almost the same, what are you using?’ she gave her a hug too.

Alexianna felt somewhat startled by it, ‘Em, water?’

‘Very funny, wise ass.’ Emma scoffed. ‘You know Jack.’ She indicated to her husband, who she had introduced to Alexianna one afternoon when they met for coffee. ‘And this is Sarah’s husband Yakov.’

‘Hello.’ Alexianna waved nervously.

‘Now that we are all here, let’s get dinner on.’ Diana smiled as she went to the stove. ‘Sarah, you set the table, Emma dear, make sure the meat is glazed properly, and boys, out, how are we supposed to get anything done with you all in the way. Alex darling, could you help me with the potatoes.’

With the men shooed from the room, Jack and Tom getting wood and coal in for the fire and Yakov making sure the two girls were safe, they got to work on the food.

‘Hey?’ Emma turned to see Sarah looking at her as she went to get a cushion for Sophie and Lily to sit on at the table. ‘Can I ask you something weird?’

‘’What?’ Emma remembered the way her sister had looked at Lily earlier.

‘Do you think Alexianna’s daughter…’

‘Looks exactly like Tom?’

‘So it’s not just me.’

‘No, the first time I saw her I thought it too.’

‘She’s not his, though….is she?’

‘No, they haven’t seen each other in years.’

‘What does her ex look like?’

‘You think after everything, she has photos she shows people or that I would ask?’ Emma scoffed. ‘Why?’

‘Well, part of my degree, I did Psychology, you know that, and part of it as transference, if Lily looks like her father, and her father looks like Tom…’

‘Look, I am not going to think about it.’ Emma stated, ‘Tom seems happy and Alexianna is really starting to act like the girl I was friends with in school.’

‘But…’

‘No buts Sarah, she’s divorced from this Jonathan guy, he is nothing to do with her and she is happy with Tom, that’s all we could want surely?’

‘I just find it weird, I mean if she and Tom ever have kids, they honestly could not look more like Tom.’

‘It’s weird, but Lily looks like who she looks like and that isn’t going to change.’ Emma shrugged as she got the cushions and walked out again. The pair went downstairs to see Jack and Tom had finished getting the fire sorted and for Tom to be between the two girls on the floor being educated in the world of Shimmer and Shine. ‘Poor Tom.’

‘Where’s Yakov?’ Sarah laughed on seeing her brother looking confused between the girls.

‘Fled for a minute to get a tea while he still had his sanity.’ Tom joked. ‘I am being told about...these things.’ He pointed to the toys.

‘Toys can be frazzling, can’t they?’

‘Was there this many when we were kids, I genuinely don’t think there was?’ He looked around at the different things.

‘I think they came all in the one pack and not all sold separately.’ Sarah stated.

‘Parenting joys.’ Tom commented.

‘Yeah, mock me.’

Tom’s brows furrowed, ‘I don’t do anything on that front.’

‘You don’t help with….?’

‘I am under strict instruction not to go buying toys all the time and I have kept to it.’ Tom stated factually. ‘Lexi made it clear, Christmas and Birthday and birthday is not until July.’

‘Do you help with anything else?’

‘Financially, absolutely not, Lexi is crystal clear, her daughter, her responsibility.’ Tom informed her. ‘She doesn’t want anyone, myself included, to think she wants someone to raise her daughter for her.’

‘But you are involved in other ways, aren’t you?’

‘I spend time with her, I read with her, yes.’ Tom explained. ‘I am the chief story reader now.’ He declared proudly.

‘Right.’ Sarah sighed, relieved her brother was not half ignoring Lily. ‘And down the road?’

‘We are not worrying about too far ahead, we don’t want to pressure ourselves.’ Tom informed her. ‘Lil’s, princess, you cannot use my knee as a mountain, it is too old and rickety.’ He smiled as she tried and failed to get a monkey character to stay on his knee.

Lily giggled in return. ‘Silly Tom.’

Sarah watched how Tom reacted with Lily, she had seen him before with Sophie, it was so natural and caring, Tom adored his niece, but with Lily, he noticed he kept just a step back, as though not allowing himself invest fully. When he realised she was looking at him again, he smiled, but she did not return the gesture, causing frown lines to knit on his forehead. Before any more could be said, the “five minutes til food” call was given. ‘Tidy up.’ Sarah ordered, surprised that Sophie did not make a show in front of Lily, as well as Lily helping immediately without being asked. ‘Thank you, Sweetheart.’ She smiled. Lily beamed back at her. ‘I bet you help your mum a lot.’

‘Mum says I should always tidy my things because they could get lost or broken, and I don’t want my Paw Patrol to get losted.’ She shook her head.

Sarah smiled at the use of the incorrect word. ‘No, that would not be nice. Come on, your mum will want you to go inside to the kitchen.’ Lily rushed off, holding Sophie’s hand, Sarah watching them.

‘What was that look for?’ Tom asked, closing over the door.

‘Why are you standoffish with her, she adores you?’ Sarah queried.

‘She is not my daughter.’

‘That we were told.’

‘I...I don’t want her getting…’ Tom inhaled deeply. ‘If this goes wrong, if Lexi and I cannot make this work, she will be the one left upset.’

‘Her, or you?’ He did not answer. ‘You have two choices Tom; accept this fully or pull back, it is not healthy for Lily to think otherwise. What if, in say five years, you are still with Alex and you have a baby with her, will you give that child everything and continue to make only half an effort with Lily, or change how you treat Lily, who would be old enough to realise there is a difference, what is the long-term plan, or is it that there is none, that you have a foot halfway out the door already?’

‘No...I…’ Tom said nothing for another moment. ‘I don’t want this to crash and burn and to have dedicated all this time and effort into Lexi and Lily and be left with nothing.’

‘What nothing?’

‘Lily is not mine, so if Lexi and I part ways, I do not have the right to see her again,’ Tom explained, his voice tight. ‘I…’

‘You holding back isn’t going to help.’

‘Lexi is keeping it very formal, not letting me get too close, she has set rules, she’s mad for rules these days.’

‘Alexianna was always a stickler for rules, that’s not new. What sort of rules?’

‘Don’t get her stuff, don’t pay attention to tantrums, don’t...why are you looking at me like that?’

‘You do realise this is Alexianna involving you in a parenting aspect, right?’

‘What?’

‘She is setting boundaries so Lily does not see you as her personal ATM and is helping you be established as a figure of authority and importance in her life. She is making sure you are in the same role as her, her mum, this is the exact opposite of keeping you back, she allows you do storytime, she is making sure you are not just some part-time fun adult, you are misconstruing her solidifying you as a person Lily should see as an important adult in her life as her being boring and distant.’ Tom stared at her blankly. ‘She seems to really want this Tom, you can see she is terrified here, but she came, because I would imagine, you made this seem like a big deal to you.’

Tom’s face became one of realisation. ‘I think you are so busy looking for something to be wrong, you are failing to see what is going right. Swift caused you to be suspicious, you gave yourself to that and she took it and toyed with you for her personal amusement and now you think Alex’s attempts to start you off on the right foot in Lily’s life is her being cold and cruel, it’s sad really, the cruel one made you sceptical of any further nice ones.’ She patted her brother’s shoulder. ‘Alex is a good fit for you, if you are both willing to put in the effort.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Your job is hard at the best of times, how many families separate when an actor is in their prime, look at Chris Pratt, even in a recent interview, Hemsworth said it put an incredible strain on his marriage, especially after the kids, and didn’t you say Cumberbatch is cutting a lot of work away from home?’ Tom nodded. ‘If you put in the effort and Alexianna is understanding enough to realise you will be away from time to time, you could make it and be really happy, I think anyway. Seeing her in the kitchen with mum, seeing Lily and how she is raising Lily, I think she is nice and normal and someone you should endeavour to be with.’ Sarah admitted. ‘I have to say though, Lily looks so much like you it is scary.’ Tom frowned. ‘Look at that photo and tell me that little girl does not look like you.’ She pointed to a particular photo in their mother’s living room, which Tom had to concede, made him and Lily seem more similar than most could argue.

‘If you look at that picture, you’re right, yeah.’

‘You sure you didn’t sleep with Alexianna five years ago?’ Sarah was only half-joking.

‘I am pretty sure, yes.’

‘Said I’d ask.’

‘Are you two ever coming to dinner?’ Yakov queried from the living room door, ‘Everyone else is at the table.’

‘Sorry, just chatting.’ Sarah grinned walking forward.

*

The afternoon went well, Sophie and Lily acted as though they had been raised together rather than having just met and as a result begged and pleaded to stay in the same room that night. The adults acted as though it had not already been discussed seeing as they needed to try and figure out how to facilitate everyone and said fine, knowing both girls would probably stay up late, but with Tom acting as storyteller, and two stories instead of one, they went to bed at an intermediate time between their usual bedtimes and were asleep by nine-thirty while the adults spoke more in the living room.

‘Are you alright?’

Alexianna turned to see Tom behind her as she washed the cup she had been using and smiled. ‘Yes, why?’

‘Just wanted to ask, I don’t want you overwhelmed.’ He wrapped his arms around her.

‘I’m fine, tired, but okay.’

‘We’ll go to bed soon.’ Her face gave away the emotions he knew she had been hiding. ‘Sarah and Yakov are in bed together, so are Emma and Jack so us being in bed together isn’t an issue.’

‘They’re married.’

‘We have spent how many nights together in bed and you never worried?’

‘Not in your mother’s though.’ He gave a small brow raise. ‘No funny stuff.’

‘I cannot promise that.’ He smiled, she gave a warning glare. 'Everyone adores you, you know?’

‘I missed your family, they are so incredible.’

‘They adore Lily too.’

‘How could you not, she’s amazing.’ Alexianna smiled proudly.

‘With you for a mum, how wouldn’t she be?’ He inhaled deeply. ‘Lexi, can I ask you something?’ She looked at him concerned. ‘Do you see me as someone of authority in Lily’s life?’ She looked at him nervously. ‘Be honest, please.’

‘I...I want you to be, but I understand if that is too much for you.’

‘But what if we part ways? Will that not confuse her?’

‘What if we don’t?’ She challenged. ‘If you don’t want to Tom, I understand, but if you want this to work, I think you need to be somewhat like that for her. You’re not her father, I know that is a wedge you cannot ignore in some ways, but with Jonathan not being involved…’

‘At least there’s that.’ He acknowledged. ‘I’m scared in some ways, but...I want this.’ He stated clearly.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Same anon from the werewolf prompts ask. I was mostly asking because I'd love to see the 3rd, 4th and 10th prompt for a Polycho fic. You can decide who the werewolf is, or if all of them are wolves or not. I'm not picky!

The hardest part of getting bit is that, even when he's the "big bad wolf", Josh still can't find a place among his peers.

Luckily the wolf has an eye for good folk and maybe someone up there is finally looking out for him.

---

[[MORE]]

Despite what anyone might believe, Josh Sawyers had always lived a little rough. He'd gone to school, was well read, enjoyed arts and history, and had dreams of being a teacher one day. Sadly, he'd not had the money to pursue a higher education and due to his area of residency and skin color he was considered nothing but a lowly thug.

No one wanted to hang out with the too smart black kid that lived very close to the woods. No one but his family really. But that too had changed when he'd gotten bit.

No point keeping another mouth to feed when it might try to take your hand with it, and having a werewolf in the family would have further ostricisized his parents and siblings from the All American Dream society they were busting their asses to belong to.

In the end, Josh had just accepted it and left.

If he could run from muggers and cops that looked at him with predatorial grins and murderous eyes, he should be able to run with the crew of wolves that further complicated his life.

Except he couldn't.

"Yes I understand I'm a big bad werewolf now but really, I dont want to hurt those cute little rabbits and deer, can't we just wait until we transform back to eat?" He shrunk back when some of the others glared at him with condescending exasperation "That's not how it works? Well can't I just eat before I transform so I won't be hungry–I'm sorry I'm just new at this and I'm sorta trying to go vegetarian here–"

"Jack did you really have to pick the pansiest lilly in the fucking garden? Christ the stupid cunt won't even eat what he can get!" Dimitri, a southern english blond with a thick accent and the worst case of resting bitch face Josh had ever seen on a wolf, colorfully hissed at the alpha of the pack.

"I figured the guy would make a mean wolf. Fuck me sideways, I was wrong." Jack, their leader and the stockiest member of the group, grumbled as he glared daggers at Josh "Fucking smarty pants too good for meat?"

"Might make a good bitch." Yuri, Jack's second in command and a rather spineless idiot, offered with a barking laugh that made everyone else chortle while Josh blushed furiously and looked down.

"Ugh... You guys are assholes. I'm just gonna go for a walk." He got up and moved out of their den, an old abandoned cabin that had definitly seen better days. The stench of wolf didn't help.

"Good luck finding any food, Flower Boy, werewolves are carnivores. You gonna die for being a pussy." Jack called out behind him, getting a hearty laugh out of everyone else in the cabin.

Josh kept his back straight and his head held high, but if his tail had been showing and his ears were just a bit more wolfish, they'd have hung low in shame and sadness.

Not even a group of outcasts wanted anything to do with him. That certainly took the cake.

---

As it turned out, the others were right. As much as Josh wanted to be a vegetarian (a thought he'd had since primary school), the wolf couldn't properly process green foods. It was frustrating, because he didn't want to kill any animals. The thought of blood and gore made him shudder, even if the idea of salty iron tang made his stomach croak painfully with want. He was hungry. Very hungry.

"Think Josh... If vegetables and fruits aren't an option, then what else...?" He mumbled to himself as he walked. He needed to feed, otherwise the wolf would have a few things to say as soon as he got too hungry to keep in control.

His wolf was gentler than the others in the pack, but it was still a wild animal and hunger tended to do strange things to the mind. Especially one driven by the more primal instinct to survive.

He noticed a stream running downhill and got an idea. It wasn't a deer or a rabbit, but if bears could get nice and fat from eating fish, surely he could sustain himself on them as well? It was just a matter of catching some.

"Well, I don't have anything to lose from trying..." He figured, as he took off his clothing and folded it neatly. He set it by a rock near a massive tree, marking it with his sharpened fingernails before letting himself change into a huge dark coated wolf.

The feeling was still strange and painful, but his worries eased considerably as an animal. The world was a much simpler thing for a wolf.

With a hearty howl the wolf sprung towards the stream, hell-bent on catching some dinner.

---

"You know..." A female voice startled Josh as he pathetically crawled up onto the sandbank. A young woman was sitting there, holding a fishing cane and other assorted supplies. She had red hair, wore clothing that looked a bit too big on her, and a pair of heavy boots that looked to have steel toes. "When I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something..."

Josh gulped as she set aside her tools and crossed her arms. She was smirking at him.

"But really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing." Had she been watching him the entire time? "Nice ass, by the way..."

Yelping as he remembered he was completely in the nude, Josh picked up the nearest thing to cover up. It looked all the more pathetic considering the flat rounded rock was much too small to cover much.

"Easy there. It's not like I've never seen a dick before." The woman rolled her eyes "Now, before I go get my ma's shotgun, state your business here dog boy. You and your pack off to cause us trouble?"

"I... Uh no, no? I'm not..." He shook his head. "I'm not with my pack and uh, I didn't even know anyone lived here."

"We don't. The cabin is a summer retreat." The woman shrugged "What's a wolf doing trying to fish alone?"

"Could you not call me wolf? I have a name..."

"So do I. What a small world."

Josh grimaced before looking back where he came from. He should go get his clothes.

"I... Should get going."

"Hm... Yeah sure. Whatever. Try not to scare the fishes even more, you just cost me and my friends our dinner."

"You have friends?" That was hard to believe. The woman had been nothing short of unpleasant for the entirety of their short-lived and awkward conversation.

"Yes. One of them has a crossbow. Beat it pooch." She glared.

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

A couple of nights later, Josh had finally mastered his fishing abilities and was anxiously awaiting the rise of the full moon.

He hated going back to the den, but cuddling for warmth was the only way not to freeze to death in the woods, and it was risky to wander off too far without the pack. There were other wolves and worse, bears.

Not that his pack cared that he ran off anyway.

Still, as soon as the moon rose he could slink off to the stream and catch himself a good meal. He'd found a massive school of fish in a hole that lead to an underground pool. The fish either got stuck there by accident and couldn't leave due to low lighting, or were just too greedy when feeding on the vast surplus of food that the hole had to offer them.

All the better to keep him nice and full.

He had almost completely forgot about that woman from the other day, until he'd rushed off on all fours towards the stream and caught an odd sent in the wind.

The wolf grumbled in annoyance at the intrusion, but its curiosity was just as great as its human side's.

On feather light paws, it crouched and tracked the sent, before a whiff of grilled fish made its mouth water.

In the same spot Josh had met the woman, were three humans making dinner out of a bucket of large fat fish. It seemed like the redhead was a skilled fisherwoman.

"It's a loud night." A man with a shaved head, tan freckled skin and heterochromia, commented as he listened to the occasional howl in the distance. This trio was far away from the pack's hunting grounds, so there was no danger.

"Werewolves. I met one the other day..." The redhead murmured. "Took me longer to get a catch because the dumbass was flopping about like a drowning lamb."

"You met a werewolf? How come you didn't say anything, North?" A blond man with tired eyes and pale complexion asked.

"Didn't seem important at the time." North huffed "Besides, at the mention of my shotgun and your crossbow, he fled."

"You mean your mom's old shotgun. That thing is rusty as hell North. Wouldn't kill a fly..." The freckled man chuckled "But in all seriousness, Simon's right. You should have said something."

"Oh lay off Markus. It's fine! We're not staying much longer, just a couple of days anyway, and the wolves are far away."

The wolf watched them curiously. They were an odd trio. North, Simon and Markus.

Their names sounded... Nice somehow. And their interactions were all in good jest, rather than aggressive.

Whining softly, the large wolf lay down and kept watching them. It's heart ached for companionship it did not get from it's peers.

The blond's head perked up suddenly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Not everyone has your bat ears Simon..." North pointed out. "What's up?"

The blond didn't reply, instead staring off into the treeline where the wolf hid.

Had he heard it? That was impossible, humans didn't hear that well.

The man squinted, before getting up. His posture was intimidating to say the least, and the look in his eyes was one of warning.

Before anyone could say anything, or the wolf could process what was going on, the blond was right in front of it with his lips curled back so the wolf could see his long fangs. A vampire.

"Simon!" Markus called out, seeming just as startled at the wolf. "Don't do that!"

"We've got a wolf!" The blond called back.

"Is it big and got black mottled fur?" North asked from where she was sitting.

"Yes."

"Same guy from last time. Hey you caught any fish yet or just did a bad impression of the Little Mermaid?" The redhead grinned.

Simon rose an eyebrow in question before noticing the grimace on the wolf's face.

"I don't think it liked that."

"It can say that to my face. Come on, bring the thing over, if it didn't pounce us yet, it's not going to."

The vampire shrugged and looked back at the wolf, still suspicious, before motioning for it to get up and follow. The wolf decided it best not to argue, especially when the redhead offered a grilled fish.

It had been ages since it ate something cooked.

---

"So you really do run solo, don't you?" North asked in the morning, when the moonlight was no longer coursing through his veins, and after they'd all introduced themselves at the cabin.

The redhead hadn't been kidding about owning a shotgun. It was on display at the cabin, but it was also rusted to kingdom come. Markus had been right about it not harming a fly.

She used it as a threat to intruders. Uninvited guests were unwelcome, which was funny considering she had invited a vampire and a wolf into the threshold.

That was certainly some risk taking. Not that he was complaining.

The offered blankets had been so soft he'd practically rolled around in them when he woke up. The texture felt nice against his bare skin. It helped ignore the dull aches and sores of transformation.

"I prefer it." Josh replied. "It's calmer when I'm on my own. Quieter. Easier to get food and rest instead of getting pounced on and forced to submit to some asshole's command..."

Simon held the blanket he'd covered himself in tightly as he took a sip from a glass. The breakfast table was nicely organized, and he'd given them all plates of pancakes and glasses of orange juice. He himself ate nothing and drank a tinted glass that Josh's nose noted was full of pig's blood.

"Sounds rough." The blond commented as he shielded his sensitive skin from the sunlight creeping into the cabin.

"It is... Honestly though I hate my pack so much, like theyre a bunch of assholes but I ran into you guys on my full moon run in the forest and..." he shrugged "I don't know you seem pretty cool..."

"We seem cool? Bitch we're the coolest." North grinned.

"North..." Markus rolled his eyes. "Well... Uh, aren't werewolves social? Running solo seems very lonely for a wolf."

"It is but uh... I don't know, I was hoping I could sorta... You know." Josh stammered in embarrassment "Go hunting or scare some people or some shit? With you guys? I know this lake thats always really warm, I can show you... and uh, there's this hole in the stream that's full of big fat fish that just kinda hang in there? In case you uh, needed more?"

The three looked among each other debating what to do. They only had a couple of days left at the cabin and Josh would surely be lonely after they left.

North looked back at Josh before looking at Markus intently.

"... No." The heterochromatic man said flatly.

"Oh come on, we kept the vampire living in your attic, can't we keep this poor lonely lost puppy too?" North put on an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not a puppy. Also you were living in Markus's attic?" Josh asked Simon incredulously. That seemed a bit weird.

"Technically his dad's attic which technically is my attic because that mansion has been in my family for generations, but yeah sure let's go with that." Simon shrugged.

"A vampire doesn't shed or howl." Markus argued with North.

"I don't shed!" Josh was slightly offended.

"Come oooon. I can walk him, and feed him, and teach him cool tricks." North grinned.

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

"Your pack sucks and you're nice. You're getting adopted by the two most insufferable humans in this part of Michigan." Simon smiled "Don't worry. You'll get a bed, access to hot water and tv, as well as treats. They'll spoil you rotten."

"...Well I can't argue with that." Josh snorted. "I haven't showered in months and the smell of wet dog after I take a dip in the lake is pretty bad."

"Good choice." Simon laughed "Come on Markus, you always did say you wanted a pet."

"I was thinking along the lines of a canary or cockatoo..."

At the end of their trip to the cabin Markus relented, having grown very fond of Josh, and the werewolf collected what little belongings he had at the den before joining them at the cabin and sitting in the back of North's car with Simon.

The other wolves wouldn't miss him anyway, so he didn't bother to say goodbye. If anything he hoped he'd not hear from them ever again.

Thank god his wolf had a good eye for nice folk. North, Markus and Simon were weird, but they were his brand of weird.

He could get used to not living rough for once.

[a-kind-of-library]

Finally hung up this awesome book poster gifted to me by @childlike-wildlike this Christmas! It’s a scratch-off poster listing 100 essential novels from Pop Chart Labs. As you scratch the gold foil off each novel, more cover design is revealed-- I’ve only read (and therefore scratched off) 20/100, but plan to eventually get through them all! My goal is to read 12 more from this list in 2017-- one ‘Essential’ book/month.

Full book list below (*books I’ve read, +books I plan to read in 2017):

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe A Death in the Family by James Agee Money by Martin Amis The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood * Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen Go Tell It On the Mountain by James Baldwin Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellow 2666 by Roberto Bolano Death of the Heart by Elizabeth Bowen * Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury * Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte * Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs * If On a Winter’s Night a Traveler by Italiano Calvino Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather + Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler Falconer by John Cheever * Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane + Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe White Noise by Don Delillo + Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz Deliverance by James Dickey + Great Expectations by Charles Dickens Play it as it Lays by Joan Didion An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser Ragtime by E.L. Doctorow Crime & Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov Middlemarch by George Eliot Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison + Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides + The Sound & the Fury by William Faulkner * The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford The Sportswriter by Richard Ford The Passage to India by E.M. Forster The Recognitions by William Gaddis Neuromancer by William Gibson * Lord of the Flies by William Golding I, Claudius by Robert Graves The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene + The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett * Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne Catch-22 by Joseph Heller * The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston Tree of Smoke by Denis Johnson + Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce + Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka On the Road by Jack Kerouac * One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski * To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing * The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry Wittgenstein’s Mistress by David Markson * 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy + The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers Moby Dick by Herman Melville Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell Beloved by Toni Morrison Under the Net by Iris Murdoch Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov A House for Mr. Biswas by V.S. Naipaul At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O’Brien Appointment in Samarra by John O’Hara Animal Farm by George Orwell * 1984 by George Orwell Dance to the Music of Time by Anthony Powell The Shipping News by E. Annie Proulx Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys Gilead by Marilynne Robinson American Pastoral by Philip Roth The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie * Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger * Frankenstein by Mary Shelley White Teeth by Zadie Smith + Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck Dog Soldiers by Robert Stone * Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien + Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy * Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain Rabbit, Run by John Updike * Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace All the King’s Men by Robert Penn Warren The Day of the Locust by Nathanael West The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf Native Son by Richard Wright

[ecotone99]

[HR] [SF] Spence - Chapter 2

‘Fore we got rid of Dr. McFuckknuckle and The Three Stooges, went through all their things and vehicles. No identification at all.

That tablet thing ‘Curly’ had was, along with bein’ a tracker for Spence, a maintenance console kinda thing. Get back to that here in a minute.

The doc’s car had some real interestin’ toys inside. Was a laptop, set up on a stand like in a police vehicle. Opened it up, and it lit up fine, but wanted a password, or a fingerprint. Lucky for me, once I pried open ol’ doc’s torn off hand and cleaned it up a mite, the thumbprint from that did the trick. Couple minutes of tinkerin’ got me my thumbprint authorized jest fine. Tossed that hand back over by its former owner. Spence followed the toss with his head, and chuffed. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish, right?’ He cocked his head at me, like he was thinkin’ that over.

Was a leather folder which had some papers, a small black nylon toolbag, and a power cord/adapter for keeping the laptop charged.

Plugged the laptop up in the shack, ‘fore we headed out to get rid of the trash.

Loaded the dead weight into the back of that SUV, jerry-rigged a tow for the doc’s car, got ready to haul out into the back-country. Plenty of room for Spence in the back seat. Opened the door and said ‘C’mon bud. It’s garbage day.’ Spence kinda ‘chuffed’, would not get in.

‘You gonna stay here, slick?’

<chuff>

Goddamn, he was sayin’ no.

‘Fair enough, you plenty fast, bud. Follow me.’

Headed out, and Spence was a joy to see in motion. He’d rocket out ahead, swoop around and jet right back. He was playin’ with his lil ol’ slow human. Such a cat, that guy. Wiseass.

Got to where we was gonna dump this sack o’ assholes, and made sure to kick Dr. MFK in the ribs until my leg was tired. Not that it bothered him much, made me feel better.

Not gonna get too detailed on where/how all that was dealt with. Some things are best left unsaid ... but no one is ever gonna find them, or their vehicles ... and there are a couple-three less incendiary grenades left.

Was a long walk back, but Spence had a time. He’d spot a jack-rabbit, start up that chittery thing he does, and off he’d go. Chase the poor lil bugger for a while, and then he’d stop, let that jack run off, look back at me, and speed on back. Keepin’ an eye on his human. Saw a buzzard off on high, ridin’ the thermals. Guess we wasn’t the only ones takin’ care of dead meat today.

Just managed to beat the rain, and nightfall when we got back home.

Was time to get back to those ‘stay tuned’ things, so made up some coffee, and started snoopin’.

That laptop and those papers had some info, but the rest here is some wild-ass-guessin’:

Spence is a ‘prototype weapons system.’ Was the only one that ‘was successful’. Seems ‘they’ (not clear on who ‘they’ really is, but ‘they’ had some deep pockets, as Dr. MFK didn’t seem to have much problem keepin’ the lights on) had built some kinda ’AI’. Too bad for ‘they’, this AI? That dog won’t hunt. Couldn’t manage to ‘code a hunting instinct.’ Some bright-boy lab rat fella decided to ‘look into the feline mind’ to get that ‘hunter/killer’ code.

Dr. MFK was that lab rat. Pretty sure the process died with him. Small favors.

Seems the idea that he come up with was what he called a ‘matrix’ that this AI thing could run in, and the cat ‘code’ part could be copied in there, to give them that missin’ piece. There warn’t no ‘organic’ Spence left in that shiny body, from what I could figger. Just that matrix thing, swaddled up in Spence’s metal and silicon innards, with Spence and that AI all mixed up together.

He also figgered out that ferals and cats not raised ... whaddyacallit ... underfoot? Well, not bonded to humans, they wasn’t gonna work either.

Bastard slaughtered a lot of cats. ‘Spence, Ima thinkin’ the Doc here got off light.’ Spence chuffed again. Ima guessin’ this time he was agreein’ with me.

Spence was a smart fella before, but now he’s scary smarter. Still good company. Conversation is nice, just too damn big for lap-sittin’.

—-

[SIGNAL SCAN IN PROGRESS]

[SIGNAL DETECTED]

[SIGNAL TRIANGULATION ENGAGED]

—-

Also figgered out that the tools in that bag were for openin’ up maintenance ports and the like on Spence’s chrome carcass. One of them had a port for connectin’ that little maintenance console up. Told ya I’d get back to that. Was able to find the tracker tag they had plugged into Spence. Pulled that sumbitch out and unhooked its battery. Put that all away in the toolbag. Oh yeah, Spence is stealth. I can’t claim to understand how it works, but I read that, and tried to take a picture with my old digital camera, and all I could see was a kinda washed out blur, like the lens was smudged. Does the same kinda thing to radar signals and the like, but I ain’t got no way to test that. The black magic don’t extend to regular optical cameras, but that’s ok. Hell, I wanna be able to see him.

—-

[TRIANGULATION INCOMPLETE]

[SIGNAL LOST]

—-

Feelin’ kinda proud of myself at this point, so I closed Spence back up, grabbed a beer, and hit my chair. Spence sat on my left, and leaned his head on my leg. Put my hand on his ear, and he buzzed that purr of his, and lightly thumped his tail. We listened to the rain, until it faded out.

That was pretty close to the last time we felt peaceful.

Thinkin’ that ‘they’ might want to collect on their spendin’, and scoop up Spence. Yeah, well, fellas. Gonna have to go thru me first. Ima thinkin’ we two gonna hit the road. Dunno where to yet, but ‘they’ probably got the shack already nailed down. Also thinkin’ about that buzzard.

Next day, shit to do. Told Spence to guard the shack, and I’d be back. He chuffed and ima sure that was his version of an eye-roll. Walked down to the highway. Waved down the bus. Took that to the city (the other direction from town), and bought a new-to-me truck, with a camper shell on the back. Figgered that would give Spence some cover from all the lookie-loos.

Once I was back home, towed the trusty old truck out to the back-country, for a hero’s funeral. Couple less incendiaries. At least this time, didn’t need to walk back. Yep, could still see that circlin’ bird. Like that paintin’ ... this is not a pipe, and that ain’t no buzzard. Spence was chasin’ jack-rabbits again. I stopped the truck.

‘Spence!’ He spun around and come runnin’ back. ‘Hey bud. Ima thinkin’ you understand me a lot more than you used to. See that?’ I kinda pointed up the bird’s way. Spence’s head tracked the lazy circles for a bit, and then he looked back at me, head cocked. ‘Yep. Ima thinkin’ we on borrowed time. Those ‘they’ fellas are watchin’.’ He thought on that, and gave me a chuff. ‘Time to go, old fella’.’ He didn’t make a sound this time. Just cocked his head, like he does... and then walking over and givin’ me a head bump on my leg. Understood that perfect. I opened up the door, and he jumped in the back of the double-cab.

Got back home, and started packin’ up.

Got my back-country hikin’ gear. Packed some boxes with non-perishables. Loaded up the jugs of water I already had. Wrapped up our little armory in some tarps. Stowed that laptop and the other gear in my pack. Made sure my scatter-gun was loaded and handy. Was just finishing securing ever’thin’ down, when Spence made his chitter sound, looking back towards the road to the highway.

‘Goddammit, guess we outta time, bud. You stay here, in the truck. Let’s see what these assholes are up to.’

<chuff>

It looked to be one of the staties’ prowlers. I got no problem with the real authorities, but I made sure my sawed-off was in easy, hidden reach.

Prowler pulled to a stop. Could see two folks inside. In my experience with the staties, there’s usually only one per car. Somethin’ is not right here.

They both got out. ‘Good afternoon, sir.’

‘Afternoon officers, can I help you fellas?’

‘Yessir. We are out here, working with the rangers, letting people know that there is a very dangerous wild animal in the area. Have you noticed any signs? Any lost livestock? Pets? Anything like that?’

The one talkin’ was bein’ real calm and reassurin’ and walkin’ over easy like, with a nice, friendly grin. The other one was kinda off to the side, movin’ slow and steady, kinda like he was tryin’ to flank me... lookin’ everywhere but at me. Noticed that their sidearms were not the standard statie issue, but more like smaller versions of the Stooges’ weapons, with extended magazines. This is not a pipe, and these ain’t staties.

From where they was at, they couldn’t get a clear view of Spence, but he saw them. I could see him trackin’ their progress from the corner of my eye.

‘Well sir, don’t have any livestock to speak of. Was out hikin’ some today. Didn’t see no varmints bigger than a jack-rabbit.’ Was edgin’ my hand over to the sawed-off.

The chatty one smiled bigger, and started to reply, when the sneaky one finally got to where he saw Spence. He grabbed at his shoulder mike, and they both reached down for their weapons, but they never had a chance. I was spinning behind the truck, grabbin’ my scatter-gun, but I never even got it pulled.

I knew Spence was fast, but the last time he did this, I didn’t see the details. My buddy Spence is a beautiful goddamn chrome murder machine.

Spence went right through the side window of the camper shell. He tore into Sneaky, snipped both hands off clean, and slashed his throat deep, all in one move. Sneaky dropped, no sound but wet chokin’. Never even keyed the mike. Spence was over on Smiley in less than a heartbeat, before he could even get turned. Spence took that gunhand clean, and dropped ol’ Smiley on his back, and held him there, front paws on his shoulders, with the claws slid in for purchase, pressin’ down. Spence smiled, if you can call a mouthful of steely razors smilin’.

It was quiet, ‘cept for Spence’s metallic chirr, and Smiley’s sobs, as he clutched the stub with his remaining hand, ghost white face locked on Spence.

I walked over with my scatter-gun on my shoulder. Put a hand on Spence’s head and rubbed that ear. He thumped my leg once with his tail, not moving anything else.

Knelt down a little off to the side, up by Smiley’s head.

‘Son, meet Spence. Now, you and me? We gonna have us a little come-to-Jesus meetin’.’

submitted by /u/UndiagnosablePaella [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/36xvjcm

[lady-nuggetz]

Because no one asked, I decided to draw up my OWN special interpretation of Team Hooligan, ��WITH JEST!!✨

Mind you everything is mostly based off of my own headcanon, so enjoy it as you will!! I'll write brief descriptions that you can read right here !!!!

—————————

Fang the Sniper/Hunter

He/Him // 21 yrs old // Australian🇦🇺 & Dominican🇩🇴 // Bisexual

Fang is a mercenary/bounty hunter and the leader of Team Hooligan. Though he often works alone for most gigs, he considers his team to be a found family of sorts, despite not always getting along with them. He has a great fascination for guns, but often uses his regular cork gun unless it's for serious situations. He's easy to anger and is heavily motivated by his greed and desire to prove himself as a top notch mercenary. Though things don't always work in his favor.

He's told very few people about his origins, how he had once descended from a noble family, until "one incident led to another and now suddenly I'm all on my own!" The one thing he absolutely REFUSES to tell people is that Fang isn't really his birth name.

• Cocky, Greedy, and Selfish. Probably has a slight tinge of insecurity due to past failures with Sonic and company.

• Keeps cigarette packs on his person often.

• Has a small shack he and the others share together over in Mirage Saloon Zone. He started sharing his room with Jest once she started hanging around.

• Loves mechanics, no one else but him drives the Marvelous Queen, it's a vehicle of his own design.

• Likes playing card games, spicy food, and keyboards.

—————————

Jest the Jack Rabbit

She/Her // 21 yrs old // Puerto Rican🇵🇷 & Trinidadian🇹🇹 // Bisexual

Jest is another bounty hunter, who despite her silly clown appearance, is a very threatening figure. She's agile, quick witted, and carries around a baseball bat she calls the Wacky Whammer, that's bound to give anyone a painful concussion. She came across Team Hooligan after they [Mainly just Fang] attempted to mug her, to which they received a harsh beating at her hand. She has found herself to be fixated on their leader however, and sticks around them to watch them struggle for success.

She grew up in a circus with her sisters, before finding herself fixated on the chaos emeralds and chaos energy. Unleashing an ultimate chaos has been her grand goal as she hopes to spread her madness across the world. She plans to achieve that, either by herself or with other comrades as her stepping stool.

• Loud, Annoying and Obnoxious. Loves to push Fang's buttons and watch him lose his cool. Her not so secret crush on him is absurd.

• A known sadist, she enjoys intimidating others and seeks out the emeralds for power and chaos.

• Enjoys gossiping with her friends, Ace and Solar, particularly about the Hooligans.

• What her and Fang have is a somewhat open secret. It's hard to tell if they hate each other or love each other. From their endless bickering to Jest's raunchy flirting.

• Likes cinnamon buns, yo-yos, and fondant.

—————————

Bean the Dynamite

Any Pronouns // 15 yrs old // Brazilian🇧🇷 // Pansexual, Genderfluid

Bean is a young and spontaneous explosives expert, with a goofy and hyperactive personally that keeps the team on their toes. He carries around comically large bombs, no one is really sure HOW he does, but they don't ever seem to question his methods. Despite his lighthearted demeanor most of the time, no one can ever seem to tell what he's got cooking in that brain of his.

Not much is known of where Bean came from, but from what Bean's told about himself, he remembers being in an egg. And a great amount of movement. Up until he hatched and found himself all alone in the middle of the forest. Most just assume he hit his head or something before he ran into Bark.

• Silly, Scatterbrained, and Crazy. Hard to tell if he's a bad guy when he's so comedic.

• Fidgets constantly, he can't sit still for more than a few minutes.

• His bombs are handmade, and he likes gifting them to the others as surprises or as little pranks.

• Considers Bark to be an older brother figure who keeps him in check. Buys him Father's Day cards.

• Likes comic books, explosives, and gummies.

—————————

Bark the Polar Bear

He/They // 23 yrs old // Russian🇷🇺 & Haitian🇭🇹 // Pansexual Demiboy

Bark is the overall brawn of the team, being the strongest physically and able to do most of the heavy lifting if necessary. He's the most level headed as well, and finds himself being the one to pull everyone back when things get too complicated [If Fang himself isn't having a pissy fit]. He's particularly shy and doesn't really like communicating much with others, as he finds it quite difficult. And despite his rather prickly job, he means well and cares for others like Bean and Amy Rose.

Before he had become a member of Team Hooligan, it's been said that he's gotten his fighting experience from being that of a professional fighter. He doesn't enjoy bringing it up, but he prefers what he's got going on now. If any of the others ask to fight him, he'll consider the offer.

• Quiet, Tough, and Stoic. He cares though, he's just a bit shy when it comes to feelings.

• A walking furnace, he gets warm easily and has an itch for cold food often.

• Used to fight professionally at one point before joining Fang's gang.

• Selective mute and often communicates with sign language or writing.

• Likes seafood, belly rubs, and coloring books.

[knizuu]

Reminder that @lunastars21, @lady-nuggetz, and I trapped our Fangs in wedlock

[saltsale1-blog]

SEAPORT WANDERING

A little inside baseball before I begin — this is the first longform post I am doing after the Forgotten New York revamp, and I’m going to have to get used to the new WordPress “dashboard,” the module where I type all my posts. WordPress can’t leave well enough alone and moved everything around, so I’ll need to gradually reacquaint myself with where everything I used happens to be. Now, when I use WordPress, it has so many different controls, I think it’s like using Lieutenant Sulu’s console to order a ham sandwich, it’s so overstuffed. I learn software, but not quickly. When i began using WordPress in 2011, it took about two months for me to really get used to it and I was getting pretty frustrated. Back in 1992, I taught myself the publishing program, QuarkXPress, as well as Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator, and learned enough to land jobs as a mechanical artist, burnishing my resume as a proofreader and copy editor. I’m well out of practice with QuarkXPress and InDesign now, though.

In December I scouted around Manhattan between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges, but after that I wandered into the Seaport. I haven’t been there much since Hurricane Sandy struck in October 2012 and especially, since the Seaport’s redevelopment plans were announced that involved tearing down the Pier 17 building and putting new retail/housing/restaurants there. I’d go to the Pier 17 food mall if I wanted something affordable for lunch, and would go to the same place for tuna salad and fries, cost me less than $10. A new food court is supposed to open in the historic Tin Building, but I think the old $10 lunches are out.

Here is Gold Street at Frankfort, under one of the ramps connecting the Brooklyn Bridge to the FDR Drive. I’ve always had a fascination for this lower Manhattan route, since it twists and turns a bit, no doubt to get around hills or creeks that have since disappeared. Back in 2006, I walked much of it, but its lower reaches are now mostly invisible as they are hidden under street and sidewalk scaffolding that is seemingly permanent. Interestingly “Gold” doesn’t refer to the precious metal, but to the Dutch word for the yellow celandine flower,  which is gouwe in Dutch, and the Netherlanders called the area Gouwenberg, which over time evolved to simply Gold after the 1664 British takeover.

North of Fulton Street, Gold Street shucks off its scaffolding, gains some lanes, and becomes less interesting. Traffic follows it under the Brooklyn Bridge to Madison Street and St. James Place.

Frankfort Street, meanwhile, is named for Frankfurt, Germany, the home town of 17th Century rebel Jacob Leisler, the only NY Governor to meet his end on a noose. It also means the street has something in common with tube-shaped lunch meat.

Why show this driveway on Frankfort Street between Gold and Pearl Streets, between the NYC Housing Preservation and Development headquarters on Gold Street and the west end of the Southbridge Towers housing development? It’s the north end of Cliff Street, which today runs only from Fulton to Beekman Streets, but used to run all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge. Check out the NYC Municipal Archives for photos of buildings along the entire length of Cliff Street in 1940.

Sadly, the Bridge Cafe at Dover and Water Streets, which billed itself as NYC’s oldest continuously-operating business that served drinks, closed after Hurricane Sandy damaged it on October 2012, and it’s never reopened. Though a neon sign in the shape of a bridge shines in the window like a candle burning to let travelers know they’re welcome, there’s currently no sign of any restoration at present. I looked inside, and found a motorcycle parked amidst where the tables and chairs used to be. The last time any reopening was mentioned was in 2016.

The cafe was built on the water’s edge, as Water Street marked the original shoreline. It was originally listed as a “grocery and wine and porter bottler”; in that era, groceries sold wines and spirits and were issued liquor licenses. Here’s a look at the building in 1940, when the Bridge was called McCormick’s.

A couple of doors away from the Bridge Cafe at 273 Water Street is the Captain Joseph Rose House, originally built between 1773 and 1781 and rebuilt in 1998. It’s the 3rd-oldest building in Manhattan after St. Paul’s Chapel on Broadway and the Morris-Jumel Mansion on Edgecombe and 162nd in East Harlem. Capt. Rose, a mahogany merchant, moved out in 1791 and was an apothecary and shoe store by 1812.

Things turned south after 1812, though, as Water Street became the province of cheap hotels and brothels. It became a dance house populated by what the local rags called “the most depraved and infamous population on the entire New York Island.” By 1868 it was the site of Kit Burns’ Dog-Pit or, to its patrons, Sportsman’s Hall. Burns, a member of the Dead Rabbits gang, held bareknuckle boxing matches and ratfighting and dogfighting matches here. These dogs, mostly terriers, were sometimes starved for several days beforehand. Burns had two of his favorite dogs stuffed and mounted over the bar. The first, a black and tan colored terrier named Jack, reportedly set an American record by killing 100 rats in 6 minutes and 40 seconds. The other dog, Hunky, was a champion fighting dog “that expired after his last great victory.” The building, shortly after, became a shelter for “fallen women.”

Nearby Rose Street was named for the owner.

Water Street, looking south through the landmarked Seaport District. The street’s Belgian blocks have been carefully maintained, unlike other parts of the district as we will see a bit later. The tall building seen in the distance is One Seaport Plaza, or the Prudential-Bache Building, a 1984 skyscraper.

I was attracted to #270 Water, across the street from the Rose House, since some of the painted sign (the readable portion says “Williams,” likely a former proprietor). Here’s the description from the Seaport Landmarks Preservation Commission report:

Bear in mind, this page won’t be a comprehensive look at the Seaport. I didn’t photograph every historic building, as it wasn’t my aim on this walk. That kind of study would have taken me a lot longer, as would this page. I’m mentioning it now in case you don’t see your favorite particular spot mentioned here. I will say that an indispensable, though not completely comprehensive, guide to the area is Ellen Fletcher’s Walking Around in South Street, published by the South Street Seaport Museum; contact the Museum at (212) 748-8600 or visit the Seaport website.

This building was constructed in 1808 for flour merchant David Lydig. He had gone into business on Peck Slip in 1789 and owned a fleet of Hudson River sloops that delivered flour to his South Street wharf. Bakers were attracted to the block with a handy flour merchant nearby. Anticipating the completion of the Erie Canal, which would enable flour to be delivered from western farmlands at a cheaper rate, he sold his sloops at a profit  and retired.

Way up in the Morris Park section of the Bronx, the subject of a SpliceToday post, there’s a Lydig Avenue named for the family of merchants that included Philip and his son, David, who ran a mill in the West Farms section. David’s son Philip sold much of the property now home to Bronx Park.

The restaurant on the ground floor had been Mexican Radio, named for a 1982 Wall of Voodoo hit, but now it’s the Cowgirl SeaHorse.

Merchant Jasper Ward had speculatively purchased this property in 1800 while the East River still occupied the site, and built on it after it was landfilled and became the corner of 151 South Street and Peck Slip. Once part of a row of three buildings, it largely resembles its original appearance. The adjoining building on Peck Slip was built in 1807 for flour merchant David Lydig (see above).

Peck Slip, looking west from South Street. The street owes its great width to the fact that it once featured a short canal, or slip, in which boats were docked. The slip was built in 1755 by merchant Benjamin Peck. It was filled in by 1817. Many lower Manhattan streets were once slips in which ships were berthed, and carry the name “slip” to this day.

At the very end of the street, we see #8 Spruce Street, formerly the tallest residential building in NYC, since surpassed. It’s now known as New York By Gehry, after its architect, Frank Gehry; it’s his first major building in NYC after many years. The tower contains only rental units (898 in total), something of a rarity in New York’s Financial District. It contains a public elementary school, which the Department of Education owns, and is made of reinforced concrete. It is 76 stories and 870 feet high.

I like the building, even though many Forgotten NY fans don’t seem to like anything built later than 1950. I say that in jest, not in anger. I do like that Manhattan is dynamic, but so many of the new towers going up in places that never had them before like Hudson Yards and Hunter’s Point are plain glass boxes. #8 Spruce is new and different.

Unfortunately, Peck Slip used to be a vast plain of Belgian blocks, one of my favorite “plains” of Belgian blocks in the city. However, the city has paved over the center of the slip with asphalt, leaving just thin strips of bricks on both sides, and placed bollards and planters around the central section. This appears to be the prelude to an ambitious plan to position a public park down the center of the slip, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it stays as is for awhile.

The Department of Transportation has always been uncomfortable with traditional Belgian-blocked streets. If you look at the Municipal Archives photos linked above, you notice that a great many more streets used to be block-paved; well into the 1980s I was noticing even main route still had them in spots. However, vehicle axles and bicycles don’t play well with them. In recent months, the city has “tamed” the formerly huge Belgian blocked plaza at Gansevoort Street and 9th Avenue in the Meatpacking but putting elevated curbs around it, and in Brooklyn, DUMBO’s brick streets and exposed former railroad tracks are under fire and their days may be numbered.

The Paris Café occupies the ground floor of a 5-story brick building at 119 South Street and Peck Slip. The handsome structure was built in 1873 and was purchased 10 years later by liquor merchant Henry Mayer and converted to a hotel and a boardinghouse. Some of the frequent guests were inventor Thomas Alva Edison, sharpshooter Annie Oakley, gourmand “Diamond Jim” Brady, and Teddy Roosevelt when he was police commissioner. Meyer opened the Paris Café in 1883 and while the hotel is long gone, the Paris is still going strong. It’s one of the last survivors of the old Seaport restaurant district that formerly boasted Sloppy Louie’s and Carmine’s. I have only been in once, with ForgottenFan Lisa Jarrett, who used to work around the corner at a coffee place on Water Street; regretfully, I did not get any photos, but they are easily found. It looked like this in 1940.

South Street in the old Fish Market area

The Fulton Fish Market, NYC’s primary seafood wholesale market, moved to Hunts Point in the Bronx in 2005, after a tenure here of over 170 years. Old pictures of South Street show sloops, square-riggers, clipper ships and many other classes of vessels docked right next to the street, which formerly abutted the East River. Today, at the Seaport’s Pier 17, you can board sailing ships like the Wavertree (built in 1885) the Peking (1911) and the lightship Ambrose, and even train for sailing on the Pioneer (1885), Lettie G. Howard (1893) and W.O. Decker (1930).

I was usually in the Seaport area during the day, when the Seaport catered to the tourist trade when the mall along Fulton Street opened in 1983. Fulton Street and Pier 17 catered almost exclusively to the tourist trade, and still does especially in the summer. But before 2005, I could walk around the area during the day and breathe in the heady aroma of raw fish. Overnights, South Street was full of trucks and wholesale merchants, where restaurants and fish markets all over town would come and purchase fish which would be prepared in restaurants and sold to the public. I never witnessed it but it was a chaotic, bustling scene, totally New York City in the vibe department. The market is now way up in the Bronx.

The restaurant Fish Market, named for you know what, attempts to reclaim the old market atmosphere. It appears to be a dive bar, but has some Malaysian delicacies on the menu. The awning on South Street used to feature a number of signs of fish wholesalers, and the signage here is clearly imitative.

Around the corner, #40 Peck Slip is one of a trio of buildings on the south side of the street that were constructed as warehouses for merchant brothers William and John Mott, and according to the LPC report, they go back as far as 1813, but heavily altered since then, with fourth floors built in the 1870s.

This row, 220-226 Front, between Beekman and Peck Slip, is even older, with this stretch of brick buildings going back to around 1800. When the property was purchased by the builders, it was purely on speculation as Front Street was still in the East River and had yet to be built on landfill. The row is occupied by Jack’s Coffee, Van Leeuwen Ice Cream (“Gilded Age” was a previous tenant) and Jeremy’s Ale House, where the bras are hung over the bar and the patrons are hung over. (I remember winding up here after a Seaport tour I gave despite having a splitting toothache; nevertheless, I found the fish and chips quite good.)

225 Front, currently Barbalu, an Italian restaurant, shows traces of its fish wholesaler past as the word “salmon” is clearly visible. Many area buildings bear such traces.

A look west on Front Street toward historic Schermerhorn Row on Fulton Street. Most New Yorkers reflexively pronounce this “Skimmerhorn” but the pronunciation makes no sense to me, unless it’s an accurate rendering of the original Dutch pronunciation. Beyond it you can see the odd-looking eastern wall of 161 Front Street, a Fairfield Inn hotel. To me it looks like the renovated exterior of 2 Columbus Circle uptown, the Museum of Arts and Design. Several more boring glassy towers have sprung up downtown the past couple of decades.

133 Beekman or 208 Front Street is actually one of the newer buildings in the Seaport. It was constructed as a loft in 1914.

Formerly Carmine’s Seafood, 140 Beekman (at Front) was constructed in 1824, the same year that Beekman Street itself was built. The old Carmine’s is now occupied by the V Bar. The ground floor has undergone considerable renovation but the upper floors still look they way they did when first built.

146-148 Beekman boasts the same painted sign for Meyer & Johnson fish wholesalers that it did in 1940, and probably awhile before that. “Finnan haddie” is smoked haddock, originally produced near Findon, Scotland. The delicacypops up in the lyrics of the Cole Porter classic “My Heart Belongs to Daddy,” popularized by Mary Martin, Eartha Kitt and Marilyn Monroe, among many others.

Here’s what the block looked like in 1940. A clothing boutique occupies the ground floor these days, and a flower shop is at 142 Beekman, next door.

19 Fulton Street at Front was newly constructed for the Fulton Street mall, opening in 1983. Yet it tries to copy the design of the James Bogardus cast iron front building, way over on Manhattan’s Lower West Side, now part of Independence Plaza. When blocks of buildings there were razed or relocated in the 1970s and 1980s to make way for the rental towers, The Bogardus Building, designed by the father of cast iron architecture, was dismantled and put in storage to be rebuilt elsewhere. However the dismantled pieces were stolen and never recovered. Hence, the city made a relatively close carbon copy and built it here.

So, this is the first longform page I have done under my new template, which was built by Adam Kizer of Villing & Company, who did an outstanding job with it. This will be FNY’s template for hopefully the next ten years and beyond, and I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Check out the ForgottenBook, take a look at the gift shop, and as always, “comment…as you see fit.”

1/13/19

Source: http://forgotten-ny.com/2019/01/seaport-wandering/

[lady-nuggetz]

Y'all are in for a treat actually cause not only is the Jeng PMV about to be finished [friend of mine wanted to make a piece that I intend on adding] but imma make more fang comic edits cause I'm THAT BITCH

[lady-nuggetz]

ASHHDUJSH FINISHED A GOOD DRAWING OF THE GOOBERS for the amv possibly ijkafnmwe

and as for silly

im not sorry/sillu

THEEE KNIZUU I LOVE YOU SO BAAAAAADD HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF VICTORY GLOMPS FOR YOU OH MY GOOOOD

[Also including this from my inbox as well tyvm!!]

[lady-nuggetz]

Hello, its me again! (I haven't been able to ask much. I'm doing my thesis, almost done.)

Here are my questions, hope you enjoy answering them!

Regarding Fang and Jest:

What is their happiest memory of one another?

What were those first relationship days like between the two of them?

What would they remember most about the other if one of them perished?

To The Hooligans in general:

If they all had a personal fridge only for themselves, what would be inside that fridge?

And finally, you!

Have you ever thought of your artistry as a gift, or something you earned? I ask because I am a writer! And I am very interested in what other artists think of their own artistic ability so I thought I’d ask.

Hi hello it oh so lovely to see you again!! Tyvm I love getting stuff in my inbox to answer!! 💕💕

I'll go through each question one by one!!!

Fang and Jest Questions:

Their happiest memories would be some of the very few sentimental moments together that they have...... or so they think.

Fang's happiest memory of Jest would be the day where he finally retaliates against Jest and her annoying antics. Not just because he got satisfaction from it trust he found it kinda cute. There would be a day where Jest is once again bothering Fang, [possibly broke his cork gun and started mocking him as he slowly got more furious]. I'd like to think that rather than blow up in a fit of anger, Fang simply smirks and back talks Jest about how much she loves to watch him get angry like an annoying vermin, literally backing her into a corner and having her pinned against a wall while he's all up in her face. And for once in his life he watches her get all red and embarrassed with a big smile on his face. [IF PEOPLE REALLY LIKE THIS SCENARIO AS MUCH AS I DO I'LL WRITE IT IN DEPTH]

Jest's happiest memory of Fang is quite literally the day she met him, where team Hooligan ambushed her, thinking that she was but some mere, helpless bunny rabbit. She found a special fondness from Fang, watching him fumble due to his own hubris. And watching him cowering under her heal just lit a fire in her that gave her the motivation to make his life worse [or for the better ;))].

Fang and Jest don't really have a first relationship day. For a LOOOONG while they will refuse to consider each other as boyfriend and girlfriend.

Despite that though, when they both become strikingly aware of each other's feelings for one another they begin to become more comfortable with doing things like kissing and cuddling in private. Jest calls it "being romantical" and Fang calls it "being bored".

Bark and Bean call it denial.

Ahhhh depression and loss. Never experimented with this before nyanya ha. 😋

Fang would remember Jest for her impeccable wit and energy. And how he'll never really be able to fathom how such a girl could stick around with him outside of being used as a comedic tool. He would wish he had appreciated her company so much more when things go back to being less hectic.

Jest would remember Fang for his stubbornness, it was always something she adored about him. How no matter what got in his way, he always managed to pick himself back up somehow and get back to plotting. She always admired it and it made her bullying so much more fun that way.

Hooligan Question:

What would be in their fridge?

Jest:

Cinnamon buns

Soda pop

Baby carrots

Neapolitan ice cream

Fang:

Beer

Some kind of leftover meat

Orange juice

Chilli

Bean:

Cheese

Corn

Chocolate pudding

Orange Soda

Bark:

Water

Raw fish

Rice

Leftover pasta

And for that final question:

I believe that my artistry is something I earned, I never really believe people are gifted with talent despite how many people tell me that I am. A talent is something you earned, not something you're born with!!!!

Thank you so much for all the questions though, I'm so delighted to answer these!!!

[Image unrelated, base is by WeirdSushi on DeviantArt]

[lady-nuggetz]

This just in, Jeng PMV is up on my YouTube for those who wanna give it a like or something!!! Long live toxic bi4bi!!!