#like the amount of land the golf part of the golf course takes up is piddling. with trees and bushes being planted to break the line of

[bitchfitch]

Tbh i think I'd be less against the idea of golf if courses used the game as an excuse to create massive reserves for native insect and plant life instead of just mass tracts of overwatered ecologically dead grass.

Bc like, golf courses are the only sort of public trafficked land I know where there are immense amounts of social rules telling you to be as kind to the ground you are standing on as possible. No cars to rip up delicate patches or for insects to be bashed against, no one is going to go wandering off into a patch they shouldn't because doing so means admitting they fucked up and would get them dirty. and everyone there is paying Massive wads to be there.

and like, that's the dream for a nature reserve. But, it would also be a massive benefit to the sport. Instead of every golf course across the globe being functionally interchangeable aesthetically, each course would have a completely unique look and feel. complete with wild life making the whole thing feel Alive and giving you something to look at while brantworth the 3rd is teeing off.

All while the rich fucks who keep these places afloat would be able to boast about 'charitable donations to a nature reserve ' to further incentivise adoption of a more unique and ecologically friendly use of the land.

[esoutherngolf]

iGOLF USE OF AI

IGOLF AND SYNCWISE FOUNDER PROVIDES MEANINGFUL CLARITY REGARDING USE OF AI Chief Information Officers and their IT teams are looking to align business needs with artificial intelligence ambitions to stay ahead with timely solutions in this fast-changing environment. As a result, even the most technology-averse individuals are now finding themselves using this new technology in some way. Brian Verdugo, founder and CEO of iGolf and Syncwise Aboo Tayub, founder of UK-based Golf Business Technology, recently welcomed Brian Verdugo, founder and CEO of iGolf and Syncwise, to weigh in on this important topic—as business leaders globally begin wrapping their arms around this transformative technology. Knowing there are so many misconceptions surrounding artificial intelligence, Tayub and Verdugo sat down for a robust conversation covering everything from society’s skepticism about humans being replaced by machines, as well as the major differences between what is true AI and the current chatbot-related technology that has recently become all the rage. Tayub referenced Verdugo’s recent op-ed for Golf Business Technology—a thoughtful piece titled “Understanding Artificial Intelligence and Clearing Up Some Misconceptions"—where Verdugo explained that roughly 99% of the artificial intelligence encountered by the average person is the aforementioned chatbot technology, due to the rise of apps like ChatGPT over the past year. “This type of AI relies on pre-processed, template-dependent systems and algorithms created to process human interaction and direction before delivering a response; whereas true artificial intelligence is rooted in cognitive learning and this much more intense process of capturing data from countless sources, processing it, learning from these different scenarios—and the technology concluding on its own what is right and what is wrong based on the information,” said Verdugo. The tech pioneer went on to explain that this type of muscle memory was like “young children learning through both observation, experience and the result of one’s actions—crawling leading to walking by way of falling, getting back up, trying again—ultimately learning the task and going on to the next.” Of course, this begs the question for those skeptical about this type of technology—one often portrayed by way of ‘machines taking over’ fashion in pop culture: what happens if and when AI become self-aware? Even scarier, what if this technology begins to understand and mimic human behavior—not even on a macro level when talking about a global takeover, but on a micro level regarding machines having the ability to do jobs that once belonged to humans? Verdugo wisely kept the conversation from taking a dystopian turn, immediately quelling any long- and short-term fears with a reminder that all things are relative. Instead of trying to predict any worst-case scenarios about an AI takeover, the CEO delivered an articulate, common-sense answer to the big doom-and-gloom question asked by so many. Verdugo humanized the question by pointing out that years from now evolution will have shown how we robotically progressed over time, using the example of bionic knees or other medical advancements in recent times to underscore that we’re already taking steps in that futuristic direction. He also suggested an opposing vantage point for doomsday types; one that focuses less on a full-blown AI takeover and much more on seeing the realities of this technology simply becoming a part of our everyday lives sooner than later, as we allow ourselves to work more closely with artificial intelligence to both better the technology as well as ourselves. Verdugo went on to explain that what is lost in the Hollywood version of artificial intelligence is the fact that this type of technology can’t function its own and remains reliant on humans to provide support. These current AI data centers take up a lot of land, relying on an enormous amount of energy and requiring water as part of a cooling off process for the supercomputers. Each of these data centers averages roughly 17 gigawatts of power annually, which is expected to double by the year 2030—meaning more work for humans, not less. “Even if AI no longer needs humans to continue learning through a behavioral model, it still requires a ‘food supply’ so eradicating mankind isn’t necessarily an intelligent or likely option,” said Verdugo. “Without humans supplying vast amounts of energy for power and water to maintain these large AI server farms, this technology would cease to exist.” Thankfully, humans remain a vital part of AI as it continues evolving—so carving out our place in its advancement is crucial and the ability to pivot remains key. Yes, there will be some jobs replaced by this new technology, but we will also see the creations of alternative career paths that wouldn’t have existed without this type of technological growth. “Will humans be replaced by machines? The short answer right now is ‘no’, but with a strong message that everyone embraces the world of AI and gets comfortable in their own personal effort to learn how to both use and embrace it,” Verdugo explained. On a lighter note, Tayub shifted the focus to one of Verdugo’s other areas of expertise, as a thought leader in the golf technology space. Tayub inquired how this type of technology is impacting Verdugo’s companies iGolf and Syncwise, and where we’ll see immediate advancements in the sport. While the “TopGolf revolution” is one of the more noticeable and obvious shifts—with the newfound popularity of the modern-day driving range using tracked golf balls and automatically scored drives—Verdugo focused less on the high-tech aspect of these facilities and more on the psychology regarding the comfort level the novice has by way of the gamification a venue like TopGolf provides. “Once people get to the point that they’re interested in trying out the sport, how do they get hooked on it and really learn the game,” asked Verdugo. If the ideal entry point was TopGolf—which helped bridge the gap between people not feeling comfortable enough picking up a club to trying it out in a non-invasive environment and falling in love with the sport—Verdugo sees the next phase being AI-simulated trailing tailored to individual styles and tastes. “There is a massive appeal in the ability to enter a private room with a simulator and working with a friendly avatar customizable to one’s personal style of coaching,” he shared. “The end result: a positive affirmation instead of a tougher, more motivational approach. A fit for everyone? Of course not. However younger generations will likely be more comfortable with newer approaches to learning and AI will be one of them.” Verdugo also sees AI playing a huge role in golf course management. Hs team has been providing some technology for the USGA, as the organization has put a focus on analyzing how people play the game while highlighting areas of the course that remain unused. “The use of golf carts, autonomous lawn mowers, motion sensors and a connected irrigation system—all of this assists AI in its effort to monitor patterns and behavior 24 hours a day, seven days a week—while providing real-time changes and efficiency-improving recommendations for golf course owners and operators,” said Verdugo. Learn more about what Verdugo and his teams are doing at iGolf and Syncwise. Read the full article

[the-firebird69]

Couple of things going on we're trying to say that the things not good it's not the greatest but it's okay you know why those in and out of the fridge and they all know it, BJ's appearing as a Vietnamese guy as he sometimes does and it's not very happy with them but he's doing it on purpose too that's how it is here

-we have a few jobs to do here most people are nuts we have to clear them out of land that we purchased huge tracks of land. Almost all of them sold even Max sold some. And he sold about 400 acres it's not much no this old 400 square miles.

Actually remember those discussed and thinks it's a good plan. He expects us to be here real cops get caught and stuff. Has a plan to go to immokalee. Two other things are happening but Matt wants to go out there to try and use it against us. And he thinks she's going to grab us and stuff thier it already. They're at a distance. Others are out there not really sure who it is they're looking at.

-it's a huge battle out there tons of people and it's at the 18th ring. It's a giant war. What signs are taking big hits. Couple of things

-keep being put off. On purpose for effect and there's tons of idiots that say they're us. Tons of false alarms on purpose

-so we having a little test plot and it's as required by the state and feds and local people there's about 10 things we're going to grow each item has to have a certain square footage be separate separated and a certain amount we have it all laid out right and labeled and the people are saying dumb things enacted it like a month ago. He had a little better luck but pretty much the same thing. It's starting to roll that's the plan here and we have a lot of land and plans for all of it most of it you cannot inhabit is not true they don't have it because they're fighting that they take a different path usually they go up to Okeechobee and then over it's because part of the blades is impassable everything gets stuck no matter how big it is but there's parts before and after that you can build on and we plan on building and a bunch of things and we're going to start on Monday and we have permit applications in for 50 of the projects there there are about 5,000 but there's 100 major projects there's our plans please treatment plants and very large apartment complexes and some entertainment facilities and golf courses and we're going to try putting in the putzer course and see how it goes. We have other plans too for the area that's a huge Park next door and we're going to sell Park items and tourists and stuff and liven up the Everglades national Park service tourism and it's going to be a good time

-we live an opportunity to build a casino and we have the green light from the two and we're going to plan it it's going to be a regular casino but fairly big and we're going to start making the designs now we're thinking about 5000 rooms

We're going to print now

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues

Hera

[discgolfaction]

What Is A Disc Golf Course?

If you’ve never played disc golf before, you might be asking yourself “What is a disc golf course?”

Disc golf courses are designed to play disc golf on. Most have either 9 or 18 holes.

Each hole should challenge the disc golf player in a different way, like requiring that the disc move right to left or forcing the player to throw down a tunnel.

These are just examples of course. There are many different obstacles and tactics a disc golf course designer can use to challenge players.

Some of these include water hazards, mandatory flight paths, and elevation changes.

Most disc golf courses are located in the great outdoors and use natural objects like trees and creeks to challenge players even further.

Unlike traditional golf courses, most disc golf courses require far less upkeep and are cheaper to build and maintain.

While this is normally the case, it’s not uncommon to see disc golf baskets on golf courses where partitions have the option to play both.

There are also some disc golf courses where designers have converted old golf course into a place for disc golf to be played.

But enough about the possibilities, let’s take a look at the major components of a disc golf course.

Major Components Of A Disc Golf Course

Now that we’ve covered the basics when it comes to disc golf course let’s take a deeper look at the main components.

While this is by no means a definitive list of all the components you might find on a course, we’re just going to stick to the main ones that most courses have.

Tee Pad

This is where all disc golf holes begin. The tee pads are where you throw your drive from or your first shot on the hole.

They can be made of dirt, rock, concrete or rubber, really any material where you can get a firm standing for your run-up.

They are usually marked by a sign that communicates the hole number and gives a good idea of the layout of the hole.

Some courses even have multiple tee pads for a whole to increase the variability of play.

Fairway

The fairway is the portion of the hole that connects the tee peed to the putting green.

While in golf you can spot this by the close-cut grass, in disc golf this piece isn’t normally as well maintained.

It can be a wipe open nicely mowed field or possibly a smaller opening that cuts throw a wooded area.

Regardless of which, the fairway should provide at least a few good routes a player can take to reach the green with their discs.

Putting Green

The ultimate goal of each hole is to reach the green. This is the ending area of the hole where the disc golf basket is located.

The object of disc golf is to each the green and ultimately get your disc in the basket in the least amount of throws possible.

A lot of times the green will by wide open giving the disc golf an unobstructed look at the basket inside the putting circle.

This is not always the case. Some green contains close hazards or obstacles like trees.

On these holes, players will need to lay their shots in the right potion or riks dealing with these.

Hazards

If we want to get technical when playing in a tournament a hazard is an area determined by the tournament director that if a player lands in this area they will receive a penalty stroke.

Check out the rules on this by going to the PGDA website.

For more casual play, hazards are usually marked on the tee sign or decided by the group you are playing with.

More the most part, this is usually a pond or lake in your park that you will want to miss away one.

Hazards can also include sand traps or other areas the park may not want to throw your discs.

Where Are Courses Normally Located?

The vast majority of disc golf courses in the united states are located in a park or other public area where anyone is allowed to come and play.

Depending on the size of the park and the town or city responsible for it, it may determine the size of the disc golf course and the number of holes it contains.

There are private disc golf courses that are closed to the public or that require a fee to play. But these are less common.

You may also find golf courses that have included disc golf baskets on their putting greens that allow disc golfers to come and play on.

You can find disc golf courses it a lot of different areas.

There as some located in caves, on the sides of mountains and even temporary urban courses that pop up.

Where Can I Find One In My Area?

If you aren’t sure if a disc golf course is located in your area there are plenty of websites dedicated to this very topic.

Disc golf course review and disc golf scene are two great sites for this.

They both have large databases of disc golf courses in many areas and even provide rankings for each.

You can also just google disc golf courses near me for a great list of nearby disc golf courses.

Finally, a great option is just to ask the disc golfers you know.

They will be able to tell you the best places to play and they might even come with you and give you some pointers.

Does It Cost Anything To Play?

If the disc golf course you want to play on is located in a park or other public area, it normally doesn’t cost anything to play.

This is the vast majority of disc golf courses in the united states and is one of the reasons the sport is exploding here.

Like I’ve already mentioned, there are private courses that might charge a fee.

You might want to call ahead or check the course’s website just to make sure.

[killian-whump]

Which members (Colin character coven) shoulders would Gerry sit on?

I'm so glad you asked that, Nonny, because that is the cutest mental image I've had in my head for some time now. Like, seriously, I'm just gonna think about little Gerry sitting on everyone's shoulders whenever I need a little pick-me-up in my day. He'd be so happy up there, too... Seeing the world (the human world!!) from a totally different perspective, watching them eat human food with his eyes all wide and hopeful that they might share a bite...

I'd imagine some of them might be concerned that he'd fall off if they didn't watch him closely, but you know, Gerry has hundreds of years of experience in staying on his chair in the penny factory, so I think he'd have no problem staying on a shoulder!

Assuming, that is, that the owner of said shoulder doesn't call him an "oversized fly" and keep swatting at him. JJ hasn't seemed to cotton on yet to the fact that Gerry is literally good luck personified and having him on one's shoulder means absolutely everything will go their way for the duration of his visit.

Some of the coven members are a little quicker on the uptake than others, you know, and while JJ definitely has street horse path smarts galore, he's not really up on his mythical Irish creatures or super tiny people or 2D beings. He still kinda thinks Douxie's just a hallucination of some kind.

As for Gerry, he has his own limitations. He's still not entirely sure about this whole "3D" nonsense. Douxie's been very helpful, considering he's also 2D like Gerry is, and has what Gerry considers a very impressive amount of experience in living in the human world. For the most part, Douxie's done well in explaining that the 3D world is just like the 2D world, just with an added (and not entirely necessary) third dimension of depth. Gerry's still not really sure what that means, really, as one time he fell in a hole on a human "golf course" and he thought that had plenty of depth, but apparently not the kind of depth Douxie means.

At any rate, Douxie hasn't corrected Gerry's other confusions about the 3D world, namely because he doesn't understand them either. Most alarmingly, neither of them can figure out why this 3D world seems to be comprised entirely of dudes that all look the same. Oh, the hair's a bit different, some of them have a scar (the same scar!) while others don't, some are clean-shaven and some aren't... but really, I mean... it's pretty obvious to them both that these are all the same guy. And none of them seem to notice it.

And they all seem to think the 2D folks are the weird ones. Pfft. That's just plain silly.

ANYWAY, given their similarities and their growing habit of sharing a grilled cheese sandwich whilst observing the strange 3D creatures around them, Douxie would be the definite winner if we were to clock who spends the most time with Gerry camped on his shoulder.

But don't count the Hooks out of the running. They're definitely amongst the quickest-witted of the coven, especially when it comes to spotting sources of good luck. I mean, you don't live hundreds of years and survive all the shit Hook's survived without that. And we know Hook's a superstitious sort of fellow, so he definitely knows just what Gerry is - and would be first to notice the uncannily lucky benefits of having Gerry around. In fact, we should probably keep an eye on some of the less-redeemed Hooks, lest they try to smuggle him out of the coven and take him to Vegas...

It's probably a good thing JJ hasn't figured anything out yet.

Of course, most of them are quite aware of what Gerry seems to be. But given his 2D form and the fact that most of them come from the Land Without Magic (as Hook calls it), there's a big difference between knowing he's "a leprechaun" and believing he's an actual, literal leprechaun that brings luck everywhere he goes. Some are a little more open-minded than others, but some are just giving Gerry a wide berth while they consider the growing menagerie of 2Dness in their previously-entirely-3D world.

Don't even get them started about Abe. Nobody's quite sure what his deal is, and every time he tries to tell them who what he is, these train whistles start going off... and there isn't even a train here.

[harryspet]

welcome to eden | steve rogers

[Warnings] dark!steve rogers x reader, stepford wives au, wife!reader, marriage au, institutional misogyny, wealthy!steve, housewives au, stepfordization, mind control/brainwashing, forced gender roles, breeding kink, oral sex (male recieving), vaginal sex (wear a condom, kids!), bad editing :)

A/N: i just love the concept of this! i was told this was done before but I hope you all like my interpretation!

THIS STORY CONTAINS TRIGGERING CONTENT

In which the neighborhood you and your husband Steve move into isn’t like anywhere else on earth. The women are flawless and the men are way too happy. 

main masterlist

taglist: @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @lovemassivelybeautifulbouquet @what-is-your-wish @marvelslut-musicalnerd @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @cherienymphe @peterztinglez @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @charmed-asylum @fishwaterr @marvelsswansong​ @nsfwsebbie​

word count: 4.8k

“Now that we actually own this place it feels different. You still don’t think this is all a little much?” 

Steve lifted the cardboard box you were holding from your hands, starting to make his way into the house, “It’s perfect, pumpkin.”

Eden. 

You were now homeowners in the most luxurious and exclusive neighborhood in upstate New York. Howard Stark created this safe haven in the sixties and people now knew it as “heaven on earth”. 

You followed him inside the fortress of a house, knowing he was smiling wide. Even in your wildest dreams you never imagined that you would live in a place like this. There were so many rooms that you’d run out of ideas for what to do with them. The massive foyer was twice as big as the home you grew up in. 

Perfect marble floors, a winding staircase that reminded you of a castle, and a ginormous chandelier that was no doubt made of real diamonds. You followed Steve as he made his way into the kitchen which was, again, made for the Gods. You’d never been good at cooking but now you felt you had to start giving it a try just because of how nice it was. 

It had three ovens! Who in the world needs three ovens? “I don’t think we even have enough stuff to fill the house, Steve.”

He set the box onto the counter and you were reminded of the small number of things inside compared to the amount of cabinet space, “We’ll buy more things. Lots of things! You have my card, you can order whatever you want online,” You took a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed even by the thought of decorating this place, “Hey now, c’ mere. This is supposed to be a happy day.”

You walked into his embrace, letting his strong arms wrap around you as you leaned your head against his hard chest, “I am happy,” You made sure to say though you weren’t convinced this house would ever feel normal, “And I’m grateful. I really am, Steve.”

Steve’s big promotion in security at Stark Industries was unexpected but of course, you were happy for him. You just didn’t expect he’d suddenly be making millions and, since the two of you were married now, that you’d have to make the move with him and start looking for new jobs in the city. He’d do the same for you so you felt it was your duty to suck it up and try to make things work. 

You looked up at him and a soft smile was on his kind face. He leaned down to press a comforting kiss to your forehead. You tilted up to kiss him. He deepened it and, like you always liked, the passion you’d felt with him escalated the situation. 

Suddenly, Steven lifted you onto the kitchen counter, his hands on your waist and started to explore beneath your shirt, “This is going to be so good for us,” He spoke huskily against your lips, “What do you say we christen the new place?”

You nodded eagerly as he began to kiss your neck, “One good thing is we’ll probably never run out of places to have sex in a house this big,” Steve chuckled at your words. For a moment, his kisses took away the anxiety you were feeling. Change is only a part of life and it was something you’d just have to get used to. Luckily, you had Steve by your side to get through it all. 

“Plenty of space for kids as well,” He said and you assumed it was an attempt to turn you on. You gripped his muscular arms tightly as he 

“Mhm, put a baby in me, Steve,” You played along, knowing that you were on birth control and that was unlikely to happen anytime soon. Steve was dying to be a father but you agreed before you got married that you would enjoy your marriage to each other before you considered having kids, “Please, Steve.”

You knew that would send him over the edge and only seconds later he was pulling down your bottoms and pushing himself between your legs. Before you two could get really hot and heavy, the doorbell rang and left you both frozen. 

Steve helped you off the counter and you were quickly trying to pull up your yoga pants as Steve zipped up his jeans, “Edith, who’s at the door?” Steve asked which caught you off guard. The mansion was also a smart house, equipped with artificial intelligence that Mr. Stark had developed. 

“James and Natasha Barnes, sir. Would you like me to let them in?” There were small monitors throughout the house including the kitchen. It lit up when the door rang with a picture of the couple standing at the front door. 

“Yes, Edith. Thank you,” Steve turned back to you, not with frustration that their moment had been interrupted, but with a mischievous smile, “We’ll finish what we started later.”

You nodded, forcing a smile as he grabbed your hand. The two of you walked to the foyer which was a trip within itself due to the size of the house. 

Bucky was one of Steve’s friends that you were never quite sure of. He’d known Steve for way longer than you so you never thought it was your place to ask questions about their relationship. Bucky just seemed to bring out Steve’s impulsive side and you preferred Steve when he was cool and level headed. 

Nat, on the other hand, you loved her. 

“Welcome to Eden, Rogers family,” Bucky announced, his voice booming through the foyer as they came into view. Already, something was off and it wasn’t because of the new environment. Bucky was clad in his suburban husband get-up, like he��d been golfing all day and Natasha looked like she was preparing to go to some old-fashioned garden party. You’d never seen her wear a sundress and never seen her smile so wide. 

“Thanks, Buck,” You heard Steve say, going to hug his best friend. 

As you walked up to embrace Natasha, she even felt different. As you pulled back, you searched her face for something missing, “Wow, your eyes are beautiful,” She said, still beaming. Her red hair was now blonde and reached down past her shoulders. Her skin was bright and her makeup, which she didn’t normally wear, was done to perfection. 

“Thank you,” You spoke, unsure of why she was just now noticing. Besides that, you didn’t think they were anything special, “You look great … so new.” You laughed awkwardly as you took a step back. Bucky placed a hand on the small of her back and she gazed back at him lovingly. 

“Honey, you act like you haven’t met Y/N a million times,” Bucky grinned towards you, trying to ease the awkwardness. 

“Of course,” Natasha agreed immediately. You couldn’t help but think her tone was lacking a certain emotion, “I love spending time with Y/N. It’s so nice to have girl friends, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, appearing from basically nowhere, she pulled out a dish. It was a pound cake and she presented it to you with a smile that was now starting to make you uncomfortable, “A house warming gift,” Bucky added as you accepted it, “Natasha has been taking up baking.”

“That’s very sweet,” You said and Steve added a thanks.

“You two should stay. Let us give you a tour!” Steve clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Sure,” You agreed, “Stay for dinner. We can order pizza.”

“Order? Pizza?” Natasha was smiling but her head cocked to the side in confusion. Bucky responded by grabbing her hand and, again, she looked up at him with loving eyes. 

“That sounds delicious, Y/N,” Bucky said, ignoring his wife. 

+

You rubbed moisturizer on your face as you looked back into your bathroom mirror. The room was the size of a regular room and the closet was basically an apartment within itself. Steve came from behind you, his hands on your waist as he pressed himself into you. 

“Should we continue where we left off?” He asked as you grabbed a hold of your toothbrush. 

His hands were still roaming over your body as you began to brush your teeth before bed. You didn’t answer his question, your mind far away, “You don’t think Nat was acting super off today?” You asked after spitting toothpaste into the sink, “I mean, quitting her job. Suddenly wanting to be a stay at home Mom? She just got a promotion a few months ago.”

Through the mirror, Steve gave you a look that told you he was about to play devil’s advocate, “She didn’t seem that different to me. I think she realized what she actually wanted after the move.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as you rinsed off your toothbrush, “Are you being serious, Steve?”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Realizing he was not getting anything tonight, he stepped back with his hands in the air, “You never know about these things. People change. Who knows, maybe our priorities will change too.”

You scoffed, turning off the water, “My only priority right now is landing the Cosmopolitan contract. I can think about priorities once I’m working again,” You walked past Steve, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his cheek, but he still had a defeated look on his face, “Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long day.” 

+

You barely had time to enjoy your bowl of cereal milk before there was another ring at the doorbell. Without looking up from his bowl, Steve explained that he made plans for you and Natasha to spend the day together. You knew he was working on convincing you that this entire move was a great idea. Of course, you didn’t have time to protest because the new blonde was now impatiently honking the horn of the golf cart in your driveway. 

As soon as you stepped out of the house, you realized you were underdressed once again. Her attire today was a sundress full of blue flowers and beautiful pearls to go around her neck, “Good morning, sunshine!” She beamed as you climbed into the passenger seat. She looked over your regular t-shirt and jeans with a smile but you could tell she didn’t understand the way you were dressing, “It’s such a lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah-”

“I know! I love gardening on days like this,” She suddenly pressed the gas and you were on your way. You were still figuring out what exactly happened to your friend since the last time she saw you but she could only seem to talk about gardening, “Bucky loves the flowers I plant. I put them in this gorgeous vase so he can look at them while he’s eating his favorite breakfast. It’s nice to have nice things to look at.”

Natasha showed you every house in the neighborhood, explaining what nuclear family lived in each house, “How come you know everyone who lives here? You never seemed like the type to ... “

“Oh, we all know each other in Eden. It’s like a family! Isn’t that sweet?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod this time. You were starting to notice that every person we passed seemed … flawless. All the wives were perfectly dressed, wearing heels, and had neatly pinned hair. All the husbands looked way too happy. 

You passed a golf course and soon arrived at the clubhouse where you’d be attending a book club meeting. You were a reader yourself so the idea of that gave you some hope that you wouldn’t feel totally out of place today. 

That hope dissipated quickly when you stepped into the room. On a landing overlooking a pool, a group of flawless looking women sat in a circle like they were having a tea party rather than a book club meeting. 

They were all happy to meet you and Natash introduced you to everyone. Instead of their names, she started with their husband’s. There was Sam’s wife Sharon, Vision’s wife Wanda, Thor’s wife Val, Clint’s wife Laura and most importantly-

“Pepper!” The group of women erupted with cheers as the matriarch entered the room. You’d recognize Tony Wife’s anywhere just from the tabloids. She was pretty much America’s favorite wife, writing self-help books, and posing on the cover of home decor magazines. 

“Good morning, ladies,” She moved like a cloud, floating through the room as she commanded everyone’s attention. She took a second look at you as she made her way to her chair, “Steve’s wife Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you and, wow, you have such beautiful eyes. Welcome to the book club!”

The room erupted in giggles and clapping once again. You felt you were in some sort of simulation, like a social prank and you were waiting for some tv show host to come out and reveal that all these people were paid actors. 

Pepper continued, crossing her ankles as she flattened out the skirt of her purple colored dress, “I hope you are all feeling like I am. My husband is happy, the kids are happy, my friends are happy and that. Makes. Me. Overjoyed,” Her words put them in a trance and they seemed even more robot-like than they already were, “I only want to add to that feeling so today we are discussing a highly anticipated book.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting but you clearly weren’t on the same page as everyone else. Natasha nudged your side, giddy as ever, “I present to you ladies, Melanie Winkle’s Christmas Baking Book!” Now you were positive that you were in a simulation, “Christmas is a few months away but the season is so busy that I think we should get an early start this year. Who knows how many dance recitals, charity fundraisers, and Christmas parties we will all attend this winter? Too many to count! This book is going to change all of our lives.”

Natasha leaned into your ear, “I love Christmas, don’t you?”

“Nat?” Her eyes widened with curiosity, “Blink twice if someone is holding you hostage.”

She didn’t blink at all, “You’re silly, Y/N. You always make me laugh, don’t you?”

+

The next week passed in a blur. You had no idea how many brain dead women you had met or how many times Steve had told you that you were crazy for stressing over the Natasha situation. Tomorrow, you had an interview and you could finally leave the neighborhood and be around people who didn’t only care about knitting and Christmas decorations. 

Before you could have your sweet escape, your limit was met. 

You were attending a yoga class led by Pepper that Natasha had brought you to. It was an otherwise normal experience despite Pepper chanting about how true peace is reached when your “home is happy”. 

The class was in a cat’s pose when Wanda suddenly fell down to her stomach. The class froze and you rushed to her side. Your heart racing, you placed a hand on her back to check to see what was wrong. You brushed her hair from her facing, seeing that her eyes were wide open and she was saying, “I love my husband. I love my family. I love my husband. I love my family,” She kept repeating those two phrases over and over, her gaze completely empty. 

You felt Natasha’s hand on your arm, trying to guide you away.

“She’s going to be just fine, girls,” Pepper said calmly like the woman wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, “Us women are so delicate, with the yoga and the hot weather outside, she must be overheating. Natasha, will you lead the girls into the other room?”

“I think she needs medical attention,” You interjected, staring around the room to find a like mind. 

“Tony can help her,” Pepper smiled.

“She needs a doctor!” The room went silent before the wives began to whisper. 

“I love my husband. I love my husband. I love- I love- It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” 

“We will get her the help she needs, do not worry,” Piper continued, folding her arms in front of her. 

Natasha pulled your arm harder this time, “Y/N, let me walk you home. It’s a lovely day for a walk.”

You left the room with a feeling of complete uncertainty and as soon as Natasha was out of your site, you stormed up the spiral stairs to find Steve’s office, “Steve!” You shouted his name as you speedily walked through the long hallway. You pushed open the two, large, oak doors that led into the study and stormed inside, “Steve Rogers, I am done!”

Steve looked up from his desk and Tony turned to face you from his place in the chair in front of his desk. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Steve stood from his chair, concerned. 

You stared at Tony Stark, not with awe because he was the most famous engineer in the world, but with anger, “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N,” Tony stood next, fixing the buttons on his suit jacket, “Steve tells me you’re a photographer. Quite a talented one.”

You eyed him carefully, somehow knowing that he was the source of all that was wrong here, “I need to talk to my husband, alone, if you don’t mind.”

Steve’s eyes darkened as he looked at you, “Y/N,” He said with a warning, trying to tell you not to be rude, “This is my boss-” “It’s quite alright, I know an angry wife when I see one. I enjoyed our conversation, Mr. Rogers, and I think we’re on the same page now,” Tony approached you, a smug look on his face, “I hope to see you around, sweetheart. Oh, and again, welcome to Eden.”

As he left the room, you became even more frustrated, “You can’t talk to me like that in front of my boss, Y/N.”

“Steve,” You walked closer to his desk, “Listen to me. It’s only been a week and I am losing my mind. The people here are … are robots! They’re old-fashioned and daft, especially the wives. Nat used to be smart and cunning and now all she can talk about are gardening magazines!”

“Gardening is a very relaxing hobby-”

“Oh, please,” You crossed your arms, “That woman was on her way to being a CEO and now she’s … she’s a shell.”

Steve walked around the desk to you, grabbing your hands while they shook with anger. The look in his eyes was sincere, loving, and brought you back to a simpler time. When you were first dating, living in a tiny apartment in the city, the two of you were so in love. 

“I know this move has been hard on you and I don’t want you to see this all as a mistake. I’m trying hard, I really am,” You nodded, trying to let his words soothe you. You pressed your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “Everything here is new to me too. They do things here differently than any other place I’ve been.”

“Yeah, it’s like a cult,” You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. 

“I’m not sure about that. I do know that things are simpler here,” You felt his heartbeat quicken, “I always wanted the white picket fence, the two kids, a boy and girl, and a doting wife. She wouldn’t be bogged down by the stresses of modern life, I would take care of her … we’d be happy-”

You pushed away from him, tears pricking your eyes, “Steve, you can’t be serious,” You took a few more steps back. 

Steve sighed, “I wasn’t sure before. Bucky made it sound like a crazy fantasy but now that I’ve seen Nat and … now that I’ve talked to Tony…” 

You kept walking backward, your heart was now racing, “You kept saying she and her. Not me … I’m not the wife you want, am I?”

Steve stepped forward now. There was pain in his eyes like he didn’t want to hurt me but he had to keep pushing himself further, “You could be, pumpkin,” He tried to be endearing but his voice was weak. 

As soon as your back touched the door, you turned and yanked it open. You took off down the hallway and you cursed the fact that you let Steve by this crazy house. You looked back to see Steve standing at the top of the stairs as you hurried down them, “Y/N, please don’t make this hard!” Steve tried to plead. 

“Fuck you, Steve!” You shouted back, practically throwing yourself at the door. As you turned the lock, it didn’t budge, “Edith, open the door!”

“Only Mr. Rogers has command of my controls, Mrs. Rogers.”

Your face fell completely as tears streamed down your cheeks.

You felt him behind as you continued to pull at the doorknob, “Steve, I’m begging you …” He placed his hands on your hips, leaning down to whisper into your ear. 

“I promise it won’t hurt one bit, pumpkin.”

+

When Steve awoke a week later, he was dreading the day. It had been a week since Tony started working on you and Steve was nervous to see the final product of the reprogramming. He’d spent the week emailing your friends, family, and associates, making excuses about your whereabouts and your new change of career. 

Whatever problems he ran into, there was nothing that money couldn’t solve. 

As he made his way down the stairs that morning, he smelt something unusual. Steve had never woken to the smell of bacon and he had certainly never heard you humming sweet songs before. He saw the back of you first as he walked into the kitchen, knowing you were whisking away at some mixture in a bowl. 

Steve moved cautiously but you easily picked up on his movements. Part of Steve was surprised to see that you were still you. He hadn’t seen such a happy look on your face since the two of you had been engaged, “Hey, honey bear,” You greeted him and Steve could now see you were whisking pancakes, “Did you sleep well?”

Steve moved closer and you heard yourself say, “Don’t be shy, I’m making those pancakes you like from our favorite brunch spot.” 

“I didn’t think … how did you …”

You guessed what he was thinking easily, “I did a bunch of research and I found the recipe online. I hope I can make them just like you like them,” You set down the bowl, walking over to peck his lips. Your lips still felt the same which comforted Steve, “Why don’t you sit down at the table? I’ll bring them to you!”

“Oh,” Steve perked up, “I can help you. Where’s the recipe?”

“No need. Let me take care of you, please,” You searched his eyes for permission, “It’s the first day of our new life together and I just want to show you how much I love you.”

Steve nodded and you pecked his lips again. You smiled, knowing how much telling him that you loved him had please him. 

In the little breakfast nook, there was already a table full of food, the sunlight streaming in from the tall windows and illuminating the feast. Steve estimated that you had probably been cooking for hours at that point. A glass of orange juice as well, a cup of hot coffee was and today’s newspaper was waiting for him at the head of the table. 

You were completely focused on following the recipe, having measured everything precisely and you were now making perfect circles of batter in the frying pan. 

Steve watched your dress swing from side to side as you moved your hips, humming to some classical song. He had just realized that you’d chosen a blue dress, his favorite color, and you were wearing your hair just like he preferred. When you brought the tray of pancakes over to the table, you had an excited but expectant look on your face. You were probably as nervous as Steve was earlier. 

As you placed them in front of Steve, you stepped back and folded your hands over your apron, 

“You aren’t going to sit down?” Steve asked, grabbing his fork. 

“Would you like me to sit down?” You asked, a pleasant look on your face. 

“Yes, please,” Steve emphasized the seat beside him. He had a look of surprise on his face as if he hadn’t expected you to ask that. You maneuvered into the seat, neatly flattening your dress as you made yourself comfortable. 

You looked back at Steve, still expectant, “You don’t want to eat?”

“Of course, if that’s what you’d like, my love,” You started to fill your plate with scrambled eggs and pieces of fruit from the bowl you prepared. Even as you spooned the food into your mouth, the taste not registering in your mouth, you watched him. You made sure to push the syrup closer to him as you waited. 

When his fork finally picked up the food, your eyes were wide. 

“It takes just like the pancakes at Orla’s,” Steve complimented and you felt your heart race. You touched your chest, your cheeks feeling warm, as happiness flooded you, “They’re delicious, Y/N.”

“I’m so glad,” You beamed, “Eat more, please. Would you like a muffin? Sausage? I can blend you up a fresh smoothie.”

Steve placed a hand over yours, trying to stop you from ranting, “No, everything is perfect.”

And Steve meant it. 

When Steve finished his plate, you brought it to the sink despite his wishes to help you with dishes. When you came back to the table, you leaned in for what Steve thought was another peck on the lips. He was surprised when you deepened the kiss, resting your hands on the armrest as you leaned into him. 

When you pulled away, you weren’t even breathless, “You look very handsome this morning, Steve,” You told him, adoration in your eyes as you memorized every feature of his strong face, “Would you let me have the honor of pleasing you?”

“I’m already feeling pleased,” Steve grinned not expecting your hand to run down his chest and then over his boxers, “.... oh.”

“Please?” You pouted, feeling him through the fabric. He grew harder against your grasp and, by his pupils, you could tell he liked it, “Just let me touch it. Please, Steve?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, nodding as he was left speechless. You reached into his boxers, grabbing his member which made Steve melt back into his chair. You freed it from its confinement, leaning down to let a trail of your spit coat the sensitive tip, “Just like that, Y/N,” You up and down his shaft, twisting and rubbing your thumb over the tip. 

You moved down to kneel in front of him, “I wanna taste it, Steve. I wanna taste you so bad,” You moaned, moving your mouth closer to him. 

“Put my cock in your mouth, baby,” You smiled before tasting the tip with your tongue, “Good girl. Oh, you’re an angel.”

You took him all the way into his mouth, your tongue trailing down his shaft as you went deeper. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue creating a swirling motion. Despite your eyes watering, you kept perfect eye contact, trying to show him how much you were enjoying the privilege. 

When your mouth tired, you used your hand to continue the work though Steve didn’t seem to mind at all. When you felt he was close, you slowed your motions, “Steve, please cum inside of me?” You begged, your hand still stroking his cock.

He nodded eagerly, knowing you hadn’t taken your birth control for an entire week. You got up from the ground, lifting your dress skirt as you climbed on top of him. Your eyes were locked on each other as you slid your panties to the side, sliding down on his cock. He was already close, you knew that, and you were desperate to feel his warmth. 

“You want me to put a baby in you?” Steve grunted as you began to ride him. He grabbed a hold of the back of your neck, pulling you further into him. Your forehead pressed to his, your moans and pants began to mold together. 

“Please!” You moaned. 

“You want me to make you a Mommy, huh?”

“Please! Yes, please! I want you to make me a Mommy, Steve,” You smiled, the idea only filling your virtually empty mind with happiness. You'd try your best to be a wonderful mother and wife. “Oh, thank you-”

As you felt his warmth fill your insides, it was confirmation that you had pleased your husband properly. He slowly let you go so you could feel every inch that you just took.

“Jesus Christ,” He swore, panting as he leaned back in the chair, “This was the heaven on earth they were talking about.”

Steve could only imagine what came with lunch and dinner.

Suddenly the sun outside caught your attention, “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

+

hope you enjoyed! 

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch6)

AO3

“Mind ye’ve got that meeting this afternoon?” Ian reminded him for the thousandth time as they all sat at the breakfast table and Jamie fought the urge not to roll his eyes, already mildly annoyed at the fact that his bowl of porridge wasn’t quite right. He should’ve made it himself without backing down when Jenny had insisted on doing it for him, that way it would’ve been thick enough to plaster a wall with, just how he liked it. But his sister would never surrender the spurtle, working it through the oats and milk until they became creamy and setting a large bowl of sugar on the table, much to Jamie’s distaste. Thick enough to clart a wall and with enough salt to make your eyes water, that was exactly how he’d had it since he was a bairn, their mother taking hers in the same way. Only Jenny and their father had preferred that their breakfast be covered in sugar and the sweetness of the Scottish strawberries that grew wild on Lallybroch estate.

“Aye, I ken fine well enough,” Jamie grunted without turning his eyes towards Ian who was trying to encourage a spoonful into Wee Ian’s mouth. “Whit was the name of the estate again?”

“’Tis the only estate in Tomich but did I no’ tell ye? He’s changed the meeting to the golf club.”

It had been his idea to begin with but now Jamie was uncertain about how their drunken plan was taking shape. After one too many whiskies of a night, he and Ian had been sprawled in front of the fire as they chastised the blend that they were imbibing, arrogantly announcing that the two of them could do much better. Jamie hadn’t thought anything of it as he’d stumbled to his bed and let sleep take him but a few days later he found himself mending a fence post in the back field as Ian continued his musing about Broch Mordha putting its stamp on the world as a new destination for a premier whisky distillery and the two of them, its innovative creators.

Jamie grunted as he rose to his feet and deposited his bowl into the deep sink, letting the tap run to soak the dish and refusing to turn his body to take in the picture perfect family scene that was sat at the kitchen table.

“Mr Dunsany—“

“He’s a Lord, is he no’?”

“Is there a reason yer being a particularly crabbit arse this morning, brother?” Jenny’s voice was dripping with irritation, not wanting her nice family breakfast to be ruined by the interminable grey cloud that had been brewing over Jamie’s head for the past few weeks.

“Jen, leave him be.”

“I will not. He’s been a moanin’ greetin’ face since he came back from that bloody reunion and ’tis hell time he snapped out of it,” she said a little louder to ensure that Jamie heard the emphasis that she placed on the insult as it flew from her mouth.

This caused him to turn on his heel and level his sister with a careful eye.

“I’m sorry, Janet, but sometimes I think ye forget that there is a world outside of Lallybroch. Life can be a damn sight more complicated than poppin’ out weans and tending tae chickens, ye ken.”

If her temper didn’t hit the roof, her eyebrows certainly made a good go of it. Silently, her fingers curled tightly around the spoon, stilling herself against the pull of Wee Ian’s chubby little hand that was fisted in the material of her shirt, demanding attention.

“I ken that fine well, James. But ye canna jus’ come home every time ye see her and sulk like a wee bairn that doesna get what he wants. Grow up a wee bit, aye?”

At the end of her parting shot, Jamie felt the anger licking at the sides of his throat. The rage that he’d been directing towards himself was now begging to be let loose on someone else, someone that would bite back and Christ, Jenny would do just that. It had been this way since he’d come home, the frustration melting into a sullenness that had punctured the idyllic bubble that the family lived in at Lallybroch. In his worst thoughts, he resented both his sister and his best friend and the happiness that they shared. Jamie loved them to their bones, of course he did, but after leaving Oxford with yet another memory of how he’d let Claire slip through his fingers, the last thing he wanted to see was the very evident love between Jenny and Ian and their three children.

And so he found himself, in a suit that was a bit tight across his shoulders but he’d purchased anyway in a department store on the Inverness High Street, shaking hands with Lord William Dunsany in the bar of a golf club that he’d never seen fit to frequent himself. Jamie tried his hardest not to let the glances from the club members get to him as they walked around the lounge with an understated belonging the he’d never feel himself. He made sure that he gave a strong handshake, looking the shorter man straight in the eye and made the informed decision to swap from his usual Scots to his best Received Pronunciation, assuming that Lord Dunsany was one of those people who claimed to be a ’Scotchman’ but was as English as they come with the age old story of inheriting Scottish land as a birthright. Jamie had realised, however, that the man certainly knew his whisky and would make a not-half-bad business partner with himself and Ian if he managed to convince him to part with some cash.

Jamie was fuzzy on the details of how’d they’d come to the agreement but two hours and four whiskies later, he found himself once more shaking hands with Dunsany. The Lord would foot the seed money in exchange for a fairly sizeable but not unfair amount of the business and as a personal favour, Jamie would escort his eldest daughter around Edinburgh the following evening.

“She’s up here with me to get away from some nonsense that’s gone on at home but she’s been cooped up in her hotel for days while her mother tries to organise a townhouse for her. I just want her to get out and see the city. Who better to show her around than a native?”

Late next afternoon, his slight hangover thankfully having subsided after a coffee and a square sausage roll, Jamie stepped off of the train and onto the platform of Waverley Station in the heart of Edinburgh.

The tang of the breweries immediately filled his nostrils and he breathed deeply as the ever present sound of bagpipes floated down from the upper level of the street. While Lallybroch where was his heart lived, and he loved the humour and familiarity of Glasgow, Edinburgh held a special place in his heart. He never got tired of grabbing a coffee and walking the length of George Street in the sun, the castle bursting into view if he turned his eyes to the east.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made his way towards the hotel that Dunsany had insisted on to putting him up in, the same one as his daughter just to make things simple. Although Jamie had spent many a morning diving into the spectacular breakfasts put on at one of his favourite places in Edinburgh, The Huxley, he had never imagined staying at The Caledonian that loomed over the small establishment just metres from its door.

Jamie didn’t quite know what to do as the doorman who was wearing a bloody top hat opened the door to the hotel for him so he settled on giving the man a polite smile, resisting an absurd urge to give him some type of formal bow. He had been in nice hotels before but nothing like this with its polished marble floor and a huge vases of fresh cut flowers on most surfaces that he could see.

“Mr Fraser, we have you in the Robert Louis Stevenson Suite for two nights. Here is your room key and it also includes the number for the Concierge, should you have any need. We have a table booked in the Peacock Alley bar for you and Miss Dunsany at 6pm this evening and I would be happy to make any dinner reservations you would like to make, within or outwith the hotel. Michael can get the rest of your bags from the car,” a neat blonde woman smiled at him from the reception desk as she inclined her head to the bellboy hovering at a polite distance over Jamie’s right shoulder.

“It’s nae bother, lass, I’ve only got the one bag,” Jamie muttered with a hint of embarrassment as he pulled the bag from the floor and swiped the keycards from the desk, smiling back at her. “Thank ye.”

When he stepped through the door that bore the name of one of Scotland’s most beloved authors, his growing Imposter Syndrome ramped up a few notches. Crossing the floor towards the window, Jamie was greeted by a beautiful view of the castle as it loomed over the city. He didn’t quite know how to act, having never been in such a large and clearly expensive hotel room. In fact, it wasn’t even a room, the woman at the desk had called it a suite.

Flicking through the TV channels for a little while, settling on the new show about Billy Connolly’s upbringing in Scotland, his fingers lazily scratched at the bare patch of skin just above his belt buckle. Something about being in a different city and having some time to himself made him feel lighter than he had in weeks and he gave himself permission to laugh at a particularly lewd joke that spilled from The Big Yin’s mouth on the TV.

Jamie’s phone, lying face up on the mattress beside his left shoulder, startled him as it gave a firm buzz. Sitting up, he opened the latest message from Geneva, telling him that she wanted to go out for dinner somewhere nice tonight. He was under no illusion as to the fact that when someone like Geneva Dunsany used the words ‘somewhere nice’, she was actually saying ‘somewhere expensive’. But thankfully, Jamie knew just the place and sent her a reply saying that he had it in hand before phoning down to the reception and having the helpful woman book a table at a restaurant he knew would be impressive enough but not so posh that he would feel out of his depth by eating there.

Although they’d messaged back and forth that afternoon, he hadn’t bothered to enlarge the tiny picture next to her name at the top of the screen. Toying with his phone, Jamie resolved that he had to know what the lass looked like, not wanting to have to shuffle embarrassingly around the bar trying to figure out who he was there to meet.

Her picture brought to its full size, he looked at her for the first time and tried was pleasantly surprised. She was clearly beautiful. Dark hair that flowed in loose waves over bare shoulders, her skin a beautiful olive brown from a summer tanning on a beach somewhere. She was looking at the camera dead on with a surety that came from a privileged upbringing, her face painted perfectly and a twist of the lips that couldn’t really be called a smile, as if she didn’t want to be seen to be having fun. She looked like every posh girl that Jamie had met in his life, every girl at university who would air kiss their friends on both cheeks while their manicured hands clutched at bags that cost more than his first car.

Suppressing a groan at the thought of spending a weekend with a person who no doubt came from an entirely separate world than the one he’d grown up in, Jamie divested himself of his socks as he plodded, bare feet on plush carpet, through to the bathroom to take a shower and clean himself up ahead of his evening.

Later, he sat at the bar, his fingers playing with the patterns on the cut crystal glass that housed his double whisky, he felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder.

“James Fraser?”

His stomach dropped into the floor.

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind at what hearing his name fall from the lips of an Englishwoman would do to him. He felt an absurd wave of revulsion swipe through him in an instant and he took a quick drink before turning on his stool to face her, swallowing the bile that had risen up in his throat.

“Och, lass, nobody really calls me James. Ye can call me Mac. ’Tis another one of my family names,” he tried to sound light and not as if the sounds of his name leaving her lips felt like the flesh on his back had been ripped open to the bone.

There was a reluctance in her eyes and he immediately knew that she was uncomfortable so he did his best to send her his most charming smile, gesturing for her to sit and then signalling to the bartender.

“What would ye like tae drink?”

“Martini, if you would, extra dry, extra dirty,” she ordered confidently as the bartender nodded and turned to begin preparing it for her.

With her chin in the air, she asked, “So, my father said you were a business associate?”

“Aye, I suppose I am now. My brother-in-law and myself wish to start our own whisky company. Your father has kindly offered to help.”

“My father isn’t generally in the habit of helping out of kindness.”

“Aye, well, hopefully he trusts that we ken what we’re doing. Or that we’ll figure it out at the very least,” Jamie tried to joke but she gave him nothing. There was something cold in her demeanour that he hoped he wouldn’t have to fight against for the whole evening.

After watching the martini disappear down Geneva’s throat in record time, he offered her an arm as they left the hotel and were hit by the cool air of Edinburgh in the evening. As soon as Jamie took the first step towards Princes Street, Geneva halted.

“We’re walking?”

“’Tis no’ far, only ten minutes or so. We have time before our reservation,” he replied, gently tugging on the arm that she’d looped through his so that she would begin to walk with him. Her feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete.

“These are £500 shoes, I’m not walking anywhere.”

“Lass, Edinburgh is a city tae get lost in. If we get a taxi we’ll just be looking at the sides of buses and traffic lights. Yer father asked me tae show ye the city,” letting her arm slip from his, Jamie took a step forward and gestured towards the castle, atmospherically lit from beneath now that the sun had gone down. He turned back to her with a kind smile and held out his hand. “Let me, aye?”

Reluctantly, she acquiesced and let him lead her away from the hotel. Jamie’s skin tingled at the contact and he realised that he hadn’t touched a woman apart from Jenny since the university reunion with Claire. He flexed his fingers experimentally and felt something swell in the pit of his stomach when Geneva tightened her grip in response.

The two of them made small talk as they walked through Princes Street gardens and up towards the restaurant, Geneva seeming happy enough with the venue that he’d chosen. He’d heard good things about The Witchery before and as they sat down at a table covered in a pristine white cloth, surrounded by painted dark wood on the walls and ceilings, he noticed how pretty Geneva looked in the candlelight. Only a fool would try to argue that she wasn’t beautiful. But there was a coldness to her that hadn’t warmed yet and so he kept on being as charming as he could, hoping that another glass of wine might bring down the steely demeanour that she seemed to hold on to for dear life.

Oxford had been full of girls like Geneva Dunsany. Wealthy, privileged and confident. After four years of university, Jamie had perfected the art of tuning out their inane conversation about which exotic place they’d spent their summer, who’s guestlist they’d been placed on for the weekend and what they were planning on wearing. So he knew how to respond to her constant stream of speech, nodding and agreeing in the right places and sending dazzling smiles across the table when he felt like rolling his eyes. Though somehow, he found that he didn’t actually dislike Geneva Dunsany. Something in her eyes, or maybe it was the way she chose her words, showed Jamie that the poor little rich girl personality was an act. Underneath the mask, she felt the same way that he did—unfathomably sad.

Something inside of him felt sorry for her, recognising the pain that he knew all too well in another. And while he didn’t particularly care for the woman, Jamie decided to be kind to her. He leaned closer across the table and started to respond to her stories with anecdotes of his own. With the help of another two martinis, she began to blossom in his company and the two shared a relatively pleasant evening together.

When they reached the hotel elevator, Jamie had nothing on his mind other than stripping off his constricting shirt and sleeping off the whisky cloud that was hanging somewhere around his temples.

“What’s on the agenda now, then?” Geneva asked as they stood side by side.

“Shower then bed, I think.”

“Sounds good to me,” she all but whispered, Jamie’s head twisting to see the dark look of seduction that was painted on her face. “Mind if I join you?”

He didn’t say no.

It was shocking how easily he slipped into the worst version of himself. There had been a few nights in the past where he’d spent too much time and money in the pub in Broch Mordha and woken up the morning with some woman curled around him at whatever bed and breakfast they’d invited him back to. He only ever slept with women who were in the area for the moment, never anyone who he’d run into again. It was always when he was half gone with drink, his body acting solely on blind need that he succumbed to his baser instincts.

The doors of the elevator opened and Geneva walked in purposefully, turning to look at him with an alluring smile. Jamie walked in beside her and pressed the number for her floor.

They found pleasure in each other’s bodies but it was skin deep at best. A simple matter of scratching an itch that they both clearly had and had resolved to using the other to sate that particular need. There were no delicate touches or gazes held for any real length of time. Jamie set himself to work, making sure that she got hers before followed suit. It was perfunctory. Pleasant. And when they both uttered their subdued sounds of fulfilment, Geneva immediately rolled away from him, shielding herself once more.

“Do ye want me to go?” Jamie’s voice broke through the dark silence of the room.

Her response was barely a whisper, “Please.”

He dressed quickly, roughly, and scrambled around in the dark for his phone that had fallen from his pocket. Geneva was lying as still as a statue but Jamie could hear the odd sniff from her and realised that she had begun to cry. After dithering between his options, his inherent gentlemanliness won out.

“Is there anything I can do?”

There was no response for a few seconds and he took that as his answer, beginning to move towards the door of the room when a single word stopped his hand from turning the doorknob.

“Stay.”

Keeping his eye on her as though she was a frightened animal that might bolt at any provocation, he slowly began to undress. When she moved over slightly to give him room to get under the covers, he did just that and felt a strange sense of kinship as she wrapped her body around his. Jamie held her, stroking her hair until she fell asleep in his arms. The sound of her gentle breathing was the only thing filling the room until his phone suddenly pinged with a notification.

Facebook Congratulate Claire Beauchamp on their engagement!

Before he could stop himself, he opened the app and looked at the posed photograph of the two of them, her left ring finger showing off an almost comically large diamond ring.

After telling our friends and family, we are so happy to announce that we are engaged! We thank everyone so far for their kind words and well wishes. From the future Mr and Mrs Frank Randall.

Every muscle on his body was thrumming with energy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what the energy was made from. Rage? Fear? Utter desolation? Whatever it was, it was coiling its way around his ribs, holding him in stasis and holding him hostage as he experienced it.

He wasn’t even considered a friend anymore, seeing as he hadn’t been given the privilege of a private message, having to find out through fucking Facebook. She had clearly changed in her time in Boston, the Claire he knew would never have given up her name and become Mrs Frank Randall. Randall-Beauchamp at the very least, for Christs sake.

Tasting the rare metallic nature of blood in his mouth, Jamie realised that he was biting the inside of his cheek. He felt the need to get up and do something, anything to expel the energy that was going to burst out of him if he didn’t channel it into something. But he was stilled by the feel of Geneva’s naked body against his and a rush of guilt tried to swallow him whole.

How dare he question Claire’s life, assume to know her situation all the while he was in bed with another woman. Reminding himself for the hundredth time that Claire had made her choice and it wasn’t him, he swallowed his pride and went to send her a message, even though he knew it wasn’t a smart idea.

He shouldn’t have had that final whisky.

Jamie: Just seen the news. Congratulations to you and yours.

A blatant lie but what was he supposed to say?

To his surprise, her reply was almost immediate.

Claire: Thank you!

Short and to the point. Two words that would shut down any further conversation, a feigned attempt at excitement and gratitude that he prided himself on being able to see through.

He knew that he would have been one of many to send the same sentiment that day but he had kidded himself that his text would receive a more personalised response. Maybe all she thought of him was a copy and paste response as she planted her phone down screen first on the sofa before climbing into the arms of her future husband.

In an attempt to hold the tears at bay, Jamie curled an arm around Geneva’s prone body, bringing up his hands to his arm and pressing his palms into his eyes until he saw stars.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Scarlett Johansson x Reader : Effort

Summary: Absence makes the heart grow founder.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,166

* * * * * *

The stadium erupts into thunderous cheers. 

You fist pump, running to the nearest corner of the field. and slide across the grass. Your teammates sprint over, throwing themselves on to you excitedly. 

As you hug them back as much as possible, your eyes find the scoreboard: 3 - 2

Inside the locker room, your teammates continue to celebrate your win. This game was a big one. It’s secured your spot in the championship. 

“Y/n!” They all go crazy when your closest friend, Marissa calls your name,“ with the game winning shot!”

A bashful smile covers your lips and you shake your head. 

Another one of your teammates come over, holding their deodorant as if it were mic,“ Y/n Y/n, tell me, what was going through your head when you pulled that hat trick and won tonight's game?” 

“Bro,” playfully rolling your eyes, you push her away,“ don’t give me all the credit, I definitely stole that move straight from Lindsey.” The woman jokingly brushes her shoulders off. 

The team’s energy after a win is always infectious. It’s like their excitement is electricity, you practically vibrate with joy the second the last shot is made. You shower quickly after the little celebration and nearly dash out of the locker room, calling to your teammates that you’ll see them back in Portland for practice. 

It takes a god awful number of hours to get through the interviews and paparazzi and to and through the airport. You take the two hour flight to sleep, knowing you’ll be up for a while after such an exhausting game. 

You love soccer, it’s your passion and has been since you were a child. Every second you spent playing it lead to you being the number one player in the NWSL. You’d been chosen as a US player in the Olympics and played a large part in getting the bronze medal that year. 

But there were things you disliked about it. The training was intensive, worth it, but hard. Games, won or lost, take a huge toll on you. And the traveling. You can’t begin to count the number of days you spent away from home. 

Admittedly sometimes the distance made things better, but in the end it sucked. 

By the time you land in LA, it’s beyond dark out, midnight approaching quickly. You make it through the airport and hop into one of the many cars idling outside and have them take you to your destination.

Thanking the driver, you tip them, and get out the car. Hands clutching your bag and the bouquet of roses in hand, you approach the gate of the studio lot. 

Even though the security guard recognizes you, he still has to check your ID before letting you in. Being the decent guy he is, he gets a golf caddy for you, and it takes you to the specific building. 

“Y/-”

“Shhhh!”

Of course the first person you see is Evans. You’ve spent a large amount of time with him due to your connection to his closest co-star. 

The man comes up to you excitedly,“ you know I watched the game. You were incredible my friend.” 

With a smile, you accept his hug, patting his back good naturedly.“ Thanks man, ‘ppreciate.” 

As he walks you toward set, you talk about the game and the movie. Both of you passionately answering and exchanging jokes and such.

You see her the second the set comes into view. Long red and blonde hair braided back, Black Widow costume fitting her perfectly, and her face set in that stoic expression that Natasha Romanoff is known for. 

E/c eyes follow her intently. You can’t help but admire how she moves, especially after seeing how hard she works to do so. 

“She’s incredible.” You sigh the words and Evans smiles over at you.

“Funny, she was just saying that earlier when we watched the game.” 

You feel your heart soar at his words and your eyes light up,“ she saw it?” He nods in confirmation.

God you love her. Even while filming she thinks about and supports you. Hours on and off camera and she’s using her free time to watch you play. 

The next couple of hours she films, lost in her world of Marvel, and trying to perfect her character. You move about over time, snacking on the food at craft, chatting with Scarlett’s cast members that you know, and then lounging at the back of set on the couches provided.

At some point you fall asleep and you aren’t sure how long for. But your woken up by a soft touch to your face. It glides over your forehead, then your chin, and then up your nose. 

You jerk awake, flinching from the offense, and glaring at the source. Jeremy and Evans stand at the side of the couch laughing their asses of, a feather in Jeremy’s hand. 

“Fuck you guys.” You huff, scooting to the other end of the couch.

“Hey!” The guys’ eyes widen and they’re sprinting away seconds after looking behind them. Scarlett walks up, stopping just in front of you. She glares after them until they disappear around a corner and then she’s looking at you.

A smile splits across your face at the sight of her and she blushes at your loving gaze. In little to no time, she’s in your lap, hugging you close. 

She kisses you passionately,“ I’ve missed you so much.” She sighs hugging you again.

“I missed you too baby.” You’re kissing her yet again.

“That game winning shot!” She brings up.“ And the trick, grabbing the ball with your feet and jumping over them, where did that come from?” 

Laughing a little you shrug,“ Lindsey.” She nods and you tighten your hold on her.“ More importantly, let’s talk about your tricks Miss Romanoff.” You tease.

Scarlett rolls her eyes at your use of her character’s name. You’ve always been a little teasing about her on screen persona but it’s funny. 

“How about, neither of us talk about work, and we go home.”

You look down at you watch, the time well past midnight,“ you done filming for now?”

Nodding, she stands, and holds her hand out to you. You take it and both of you stand, heading towards the exit. 

“Hey,” you tug her hand a little,“ I really missed you.”

She stops to pull you into a hug, arms circling your shoulders. A deep exhale sends air across your neck and you shiver a bit.“ I missed you too.”

There isn’t a second that you two aren’t touching: at her trailer, on the way home, and in bed. 

Once in each other’s arms, neither of you can understand how you go so long without each other. In the end it’s your joint efforts. Neither of you give less than the other. Love, trust, time, it’s all given and received equally. 

No matter how much time is spent apart, you love each other and you always will. 

[joisbishmyoga]

Ok, to go with my headcanon about the Hogwarts Founders (to wit: based on etymology, they can't be contemporous), I have headcanons about Hogwarts castle itself.

Number one! It, like the Founders, was ALSO not all contemporous. (And my apologies that I still can't find the goddamn keep-reading option.)

Helga never-actually-Hufflepuff's Hogwarts, c. 990-1090:

The original and oldest part of the school is the tower that now houses the famous moving staircases and the Headmaster's Office. (It wasn't alone, though: it had a number of outbuildings, stables and smithies and such, that have long since vanished.)

The tower was not, at the time, a hollow column full of moving staircases. It was a defensive watchtower akin to Threave Castle in Scotland, though somewhat taller and a little bit larger. It was also not round at the time, which can still be seen in the fact that the interior is square; later generations simply added walls to make it round. There are almost certainly late medieval and Renaissance defenses, as well as secret passages, built into the space between the original tower and the rounding walls.

The tower's long-since-removed floors:

Cellars (wine and cold storage).

Ground floor (entrance, reception, kitchens).

2nd floor, in the American style of count (dining, Helga's room).
3rd floor (classrooms)

4th floor (dorms: divided by gender and class rather than age)

5th floor (servants and defense).

The cellars expanded regularly over the centuries, a new room or corridor or floor built every time the castle's population (or political demands, see below) needed more cold storage.

The conical roof and the modern Headmaster's suite were added at a much later date.

Rowena Hraefenclew's Hogwarts, c. 1050-1150:

The first expansion of the castle was the modern-day Great Hall, though it lacked the enchanted ceiling attributed later to Ravenclaw. The recieving of guests was transferred to this space from the original tower, and the grand entertainments of medieval feasts and banquets were added to school life -- a requirement of any social networking, as Rowena steered the school through the political mess of the era without getting entangled in any of it.

(The enchanted ceiling was a Renaissance creation, adding light to what had been a very dim space. The original enchantment wasn't of the sky, though, and the modern ceiling would appall the people of the 1400s: what is so grand or impressive or artistic about just making the roof invisible?

(Not having a masterpiece of Christian religious art looming over the heads of hundreds -- thousands -- of magicals who'd just lived through zealous persecution, is what. The people who charmed it all invisible considered the frescoes to be quite gauche and impolitic.))

Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor's Hogwarts, c. 1150-1250:

The High Middle Ages brought a massive amount of upheaval to England (and France: half of the modern nation was ruled by England at the start of this period), as well as the rest of Europe. This is the era later connected to Robin Hood, the age of the Magna Carta and Richard the Lionheart and Prince (King) John... and that is where we begin, with Richard faffing off to join the (many, many, MANY) Crusades, and King John losing the entirety of the French regions of his rule. Loss of land = loss of wealth --> spikes in taxes and fees on nobles --> furious nobles --> Magna Carta + King John's reputation forever in the toilet + the absentee and therefore not interfering with nobles' power and money King Richard getting lauded as the best king ever (spoiler: he v much was NOT).

Richard's career included internecine rebellions, uprisings, cruelty in what provinces he bothered to rule (in France), and widespread Jewish persecution. (Things that are pretty much always in Europe: Jewish persecution. The Crusades were mostly massive disasters that did very little to Islamic rule and population in the Holy Land, but exterminated some 90% of Jewish Europe on the way. HSST.)

All of this is to say that Salazar and Godric's Hogwarts expanded to accomodate thousands of Jewish, wandering-poor, and magical refugees from the Continent: Hogwarts was still the only formal, centralized school of magic in all of Europe, and would be for several more decades.

The school still didn't reach the modern extent by the end of this building period, but got up to about 50 percent, adding almost everything on one side of the ravine that cuts through the bluff. Except for the clock tower, the Great Hall's half of the school was complete.

This is also when Hogsmeade changed from being a House-Elf farming settlement to a human town, and for the same reason: Continental refugees, largely from the Childrens' Crusade -- thousands of people of all ages, later thought to all be children due to a misunderstanding in language. (The word for "child" was co-opted to mean "the working/wandering poor": basically, "the (socially) powerless".)

The post-Founders' Hogwarts, c. 1250-1900:

The second half of the school, the conical tower rooftops (and rooms inside them), the internal plumbing for baths (but not toilets), and all the bridges -- both the stone ones across the ravine and the wooden one to Hogsmeade -- were all built in a hurry in the late 1500 and early 1600s, this time to handle refugees during the last few decades before the Statute of Secrecy. The modern Headmaster's Office was also built at this time, as high as possible to cover all approaches to Hogwarts.

Unlike the stone bridges of the ravine, the bridge to Hogsmeade has always been made of wood, in order to be easily destroyed should the castle come under attack. (And in fact it actually has been destroyed several times, most recently in the 1970s as a pre-emptive measure against Voldemort. It was then rebuilt in 1982 with more nostalgia than construction skill.)

As mentioned before, this -- the early 1600s -- is when the Great Hall's enchanted fresco ceiling was rendered invisible.

The T-shaped clock wing on the Great Hall's side, being a six-story pendulum-type clock, was built in the early 1800s, and improved in the late 1800s for accuracy and not whacking students around like golf balls. (The restrooms were also added and improved at these times.)

The greenhouses were built around 1900: Dumbledore might well have had Herbology classes before they were put in.

Now then. That is all headcanon #1. Construction headcanon #2:

Hogwarts is in TERRIBLE condition.

The famous enchanted ceiling is perhaps the most obvious damaged spot. Or it would be if it hadn't been charmed invisible. While it had Owl Post holes in it. (For the record, the easiest way to bring down, say, a barn? Chop a 3x3 ft. hole in the roof and wait ten years.) For the last four or five centuries, every time someone on staff noticed they were getting dripped on, they just threw an Impervious Charm up at the ceiling and considered the leak magically fixed. There's literally nothing left but the Impervious charms and a few scraps of gold leaf.

The stairs are another trouble spot. Centuries of people walking on them should have them worn down in the middle to look like you cut a bowl in half vertically. Would have, but the House Elves have been pulling the stone up flat again for centuries, and eventually started using magic to color-match and add enough support to the remaining stone to take people's weight. Some of the well-known trick stairs that like to disappear? That's not the magic being playful. That's the magic of late House Elves fritzing out to show there's no step left. (The moving stairs have also ground down their joints to nothing.)

It's the same across the entire castle. Centuries of manipulating the materials and covering wear with illusions and throwing Impervious Charms at drafts and drips means a lot of Hogwarts is nothing but swiss cheese and fading spells cast by long-deceased magicals anymore.

(Or it was, until the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998 disrupted enough of the remaining spells to drop them. Voldemort's forces were powerful, but not THAT powerful.)

(A large percentage of the two generations following Harry's were saved by the Battle of Hogwarts. Slytherin House was a misaimed hex away from flooding, and most of the towers were going to collapse with a few more winters of ice picking away at the mortar. Of course if the previous several centuries of magicals had just bothered to check...)

[bunkershotgolf]

Rules Split Likely

By ED TRAVIS

Golf’s ruling bodies, the R&A and USGA, are just steps away from dictating elite players (top amateurs and professionals) should play with equipment different from recreational golfers.

From a March 16 press release covering recent results in the Distance Insight Report, a split or bifurcation in the Rules of Golf as they apply to equipment to curb the distance the ball travels, is under active consideration. Elites will play with drivers, which are viewed as the culprit, constructed in such a way to restrict the distance the ball travels while regular golfers will be allowed drivers that in theory can hit the ball farther.

The latest part of the process has been restricting the allowable length of clubs to 46 inches and the ruling bodies have put manufacturers on notice of changes to the testing criteria for balls and clubs. Specifically, they are going to investigate the effects of moving the clubhead speed up 5 mph to 125 mph along with new standards for the ball launch angle and spin rate. The aim is to test with conditions more closely modeling those elite players are achieving, and the test results could then be applied to the standard for ball initial velocity.

The Associations’ premise is since some players are hitting tee shots farther older courses are being made obsolete necessitating more land and other resources to retain the integrity of the game. Both the facts and their interpretation have been challenged and though dissenters may have been heard, they have not been listened to.

The rules split may be a benefit to recreational players due to part of the study that could lead to the removal of a limit to the amount of rebound or MOI a club face may have. Dropping the present restrictions to MOI gives average players the potential to generate more distance without swinging faster. This is being seen as a good thing, but the gain will be minimal though none of us would complain of driving the ball a few (five?) yards more.

It seems safe to assume the decision has been made to split the Rules of Golf (the word bifurcation is totally unpleasant) into us-and-them or perhaps the haves-and-have nots. In any case, several important questions remain to be answered.

How will the classes of players, elite and non-elite, be determined? It’s not that weekend warriors will play restricted lower-performance clubs…no one wants to hit it shorter, but how will the level of skill or elite-ness be measured. By handicap? Average driving distance? Type of competition? Touring professionals only? College players? High School? Looks like a minefield of even more regulation to tiptoe through.

Will the restricted equipment rules apply only to males? Ladies have been hitting the ball farther too, but the Associations’ focus seems to be only on men, but women usually play from tees more forward so female long drivers may be causing a problem too. Segregating the Rules of Golf by sex would be a first.

Club manufacturers will have to reassess club marketing since drivers will not be “just like the ones played on Tour.” Indeed, an undeniable charm for fans is comparing our efforts with the stars though granted for some of us it may take a lot of imagination. If the rollback in distance is 10% then Rory’s 330-yard blast will only be 297-yards but done with a club that fans can’t buy so how can it be promoted? Will Callaway, Acushnet, TaylorMade, Cobra, Ping, etc., who spend millions on player endorsements, allow their business plan to be made obsolete? It will certainly bring into question the business sense of paying for star endorsements if they aren’t resulting in purchase of new clubs.

How does restricting driver performance affect club technology innovation. The quest for improved designs, materials and engineering is both expensive and time consuming and without a viable way to connect the “restricted-tech” clubs used by professionals with the new “latest and greatest” allowed for recreational golfers a whole new marketing strategy is called for.

What will be done with the golf ball for elites? “Rolling back” the ball may have been considered but discarded for now to concentrate on drivers, but ball performance changes will be another minefield not easily negotiated.

The Associations have said little regarding improved player fitness and athleticism not to mention the extensive use of computerized swing analysis. Performance gains in this area are almost sure to continue. What happens if elites’ driving distance continues to increase even with restricted equipment?

Driving distance is also influenced by course conditions such as firmness of the fairways which has also not been addressed. (A friend told me recently he felt that fairways on Tour courses rolled about as fast as the greens when he was a kid.) Elites train to take advantage of this with drivers dialed-in for the best launch angle and spin rate for the maximum carry distance and roll. Many of the courses played by the Tour have generous fairways and little rough reducing any premium on accuracy and giving distance a disproportionate role.

How will the professional tours react with this curbing of players performance? The PGA Tour is in the entertainment business and may not want to hurt their product by reducing the thrill and fan interest in long hitting by complying with the USGA and R&A. We might see certain drivers allowed in regular Tour events but not allowed in the U.S. Open or British Open. Won’t that be a mess.

The USGA, and R&A have fixed their minds on the idea the ball goes too far and not wanting to have a repeat of the debacle when they tried to ban square grooves took a roundabout path to give the impression the subject was open to debate.

This raises the larger question of USGA and R&A relevance to recreational players and our opinion of splitting the Rules of Golf segregated by classes of players or sex. The USGA and R&A are again venturing into the great unknown and it’s a void labeled “Does Anybody Care.” Their desire to turnback the clock reflects a prejudice against progress, innovation and the future and while it certainly can be bullied through the cost may be too high.

[lonelyreputation]

Trouble in Canada

a/n: hey hi hello!! tis been a while :’) but I'm back bc quarantine got me feeling nostalgic of writing! My computer crashed in September 2019 and all of my writing was no more :( but miraculously, TiC was the only writing saved to my cloud and it only felt fitting to repost it with some ~minor tweaks!  Whether you read TiC when it first came out a few years ago, or it’s your first time, I hope you enjoy :) Hoping everyone is staying happy, healthy, and sane during this time!! Happy reading!! Come chat!! It’s been a while!!

WORD COUNT: 4,632 | ANGST | PART 2

“I’ll see you at the next session?”

            You picked your head up from rummaging in your bag and smiled at Ethan, the cooking class instructor, “My husband should be back in town, but I’ll see.”

           Ethan nodded his head steadily.  He held your gaze for a few moments, but after a while of looking at each other, you diverted your gaze down towards the wooden table.  Slowly, you saw his tapping fingers inch closer to your hand that rested on the table.

           Quickly, you moved your hand, and placed your engagement and wedding ring back on your ring finger.  You didn’t like cooking with your rings on, in fear that they could fall down the drain, “Uh,” you cleared your throat, “thanks for the lesson, see you later.”

           He lifted his head up from staring at your left hand with sad eyes, “See you next week, Mrs. Mendes.”  The last part was said with a hint of distaste that he didn’t care to hide.

           As fast as you could, you scurried out the door and saw your friend, Jessie, waiting for you outside.  She saw your flustered expression and smirked, “Looks like the teacher has a crush on the student.” 

           You rolled your eyes, “Married,” You held up your left hand and showed off the rings that you proudly wore every day out of love to your husband.  Jessie let out a small laugh as the two of you walked down the streets of Toronto.  

Since Shawn had left for tour about three months ago, Jessie stepped up her best friend role by keeping you occupied whenever Shawn was away.  Out of the three months he’d been touring, Shawn had been home for four days.  It got lonely around the house with no one there, especially since this was the first time Shawn was away for a substantial amount of time since you had been married.

You missed rolling over in bed and reaching a hand out to lay on your husband’s chest when you were both too lazy to get up.  You missed playfully kicking his feet underneath the table during dinner, even when it was just you two in your apartment.  And most importantly, you missed it when he would come back with coffees and bakery items from the coffee shop down the street from his gym early in the mornings.

To fill up the gaping holes of the time you normally spent with Shawn, Jessie suggested that the two of you take cooking lessons at a place in down town Toronto.  You thought it was a wonderful idea, seeing as you couldn’t even cook pasta correctly, and Shawn got a kick out of the idea of you being in a kitchen setting.  

A little bell dinged over your head when you opened the door to a coffee shop that was a block down from where you and Jessie took your kitchen lessons. The two of you stood in line to order your drinks in silence.  Once it was your turn to order, you asked for an iced latte, even though it was February and snow was on the ground.  After Jessie ordered her decaf coffee, the two of you found a seat by the window.

“Ethan knows you’re married, right?”

You nodded your head as you crossed your right leg over your left, “Called me Mrs. Mendes as I left today after he tried to make a move.”

Jessie scrunched her nose up, “Like, I can see the appeal to having a little crush on someone who’s married––they’re unattainable in a sense––but dude,” Jessie paused her words when a server brought your drinks over to the table, “Keep it to yourself and don’t be a home wrecker.”

You took a sip of your cold drink and stifled a laugh, “I honestly think he doesn’t care, and it kinda freaks me out?”  Your mind couldn’t properly put together why Ethan would try anything out on a married woman, “Like when he was trying to show me the correct way to cut whatever it was and he came around from behind—almost like the boy trying to teach the girl how to swing a golf club,”  Jessie nodded, “I just feel weird.”

Peering over her coffee cup Jessie’s eyes were curious, “Do you want to get a different teacher?” 

You shook your head, “I’m sure it’ll calm down.”

It was a Tuesday night, and instead of it being spent in your bed reading a good book, you were pacing your room on the phone with your husband.  You understood that the life he led was full of uncertainty and things popping up last minute, and even after years of dealing with it, the feeling of being let down grew more and more familiar.

“Andrew won’t let you do it earlier?” You crossed your arms as you paced around the bedroom.  

You heard Shawn sigh on the other end, “I already asked.”

 Shawn was currently in Cape Town, South Africa, so while you were ending your day, he was just beginning his.  He was supposed to come home Thursday for five days and then get back on the road.   But now it seemed as though the plans had changed. Shawn was to be in Cape Town for an extra two days.  So, with the added days on to his schedule, and the travel days, he would essentially not be home at all.  

 “Should you even bother coming home?” You questioned him as you went over to the bay area window of your apartment.  The twinkling lights of the city and the sound of traffic below made the lonely nights bearable, “I know you don’t do well with traveling, and I don’t want to disrupt your tour schedule––“

“Y/n,” Shawn spoke assertively into the phone, “You’re my wife, of course I still want to come home to you.”

Even with no one around, you felt yourself trying to hide the blush that was making its way onto your cheeks, “I don’t want you to work yourself too hard––“

“You’re sounding like you don’t want me to come home,” There was a pause before Shawn spoke hesitantly into the phone, “Is something going on?”

Your eyes widened and you felt your previous warmth shift into nerves in your stomach. You weren’t hiding anything from him, but your mind drifted over to Ethan and how odd he’d been acting lately, his confidence growing more and more with each class. Of course you had no further interaction with him other than him teaching you how to cook, but you didn’t want Shawn to find out that the teacher had been flirting with you.

“Of course I want you home,” You looked down at your left hand and twirled your engagement ring as you smiled and softly whispered, “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Shawn instantly replied back with a sigh.  It was silent for a moment until you heard his voice pipe up, “Are you sure I don’t need to worry about anything?”

Your mind drifted to thinking that it might be in your best interest to inform your husband about the handsy cooking instructor.  Surely he would understand that it made you uncomfortable and that you didn’t reciprocate any of the feelings.  It seemed trivial to explain everything to him, he knew you loved him, you took a vow to love Shawn for the rest of your life. 

With the little debate you had in your head, you came to the conclusion that it wasn’t important to tell him.  The class would be over soon and you wouldn’t have to worry about Ethan again.  And you knew that Shawn trusted you with his life, so he would know that nothing would come of it, so you shook your head, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m your husband,” Shawn let out a small laugh, “It’s my job.”  You let out a small laugh as well, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the not so subtle advances Ethan has tried on you. They made you uncomfortable, and maybe it was in your bet interest to confided in your husband, but just as you briefly opened your mouth, Shawn spoke up, “I have to go, but text me throughout the day?  I’m not sure when I’ll be able to pick up the phone and actually talk.”

“Yeah,” You answered him dismally, “I can do that.”

“I love you.” Shawn’s words were spoken in unwavering confidence into the phone.

With a stinging feeling pricking behind your eyes, you let out a breathy laugh to cover up your heavy heart of not being able to see your husband as soon as you thought, “I love you too.”

You hung up the phone and let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.  Of course supporting Shawn was something you would do no matter what, but with him constantly being away, it was beginning to take a toll on you.  You thought that it would be better once you got married, but that wasn’t the case.

Then thoughts that never once crossed your mind in all of the years you and Shawn had been together; what would it be like to be with someone, to have dated or be married to, that wasn’t him?  To have someone who wasn’t constantly traveling the world. What would it be like to be married to someone who spent more time with their wife than a tour bus?

––––

 Trouble in Canada?

            Newlyweds Shawn and Y/n Mendes are no stranger to the media, especially when it comes with rumors circulating their marriage.  Just a few months shy of their first wedding anniversary, the couple has been caught in the middle of a few fiascos.

           If we’re being quite honest with ourselves, keeping up with the Kardashians is easier than these two.

           Shawn is currently on his world tour and about to start the European leg. Earlier in the week, Shawn was supposed to be traveling home to spend a short break with the Misses before the European part of his tour officially kicked off.  But according to a source close to Mr. Mendes, he had to stay in Cape Town, South Africa for a few more days.

           “He tried everything he could to get out of staying,” The source close to Shawn said. “He misses Y/n, but even with the amount of times they call each other or FaceTime in a day, it’s not the same as talking to each other face to face.”

           But as Shawn slips into a land of everlasting bliss between he and his wife, it looks like Y/n has been spending her time with someone else as of late. Below, pictures of Y/n and a mystery man have appeared over the course of a few weeks, starting just after Shawn left home.

           “There’s been a noticeable change in him,” the source said, who has requested to remain anonymous, added in, “Everyone around him knows how much he loves his wife, so when he saw pictures of her with another man in that room, it really hit him.”

           Since pictures emerged of Y/n and the mystery man, people have commented that Shawn has been distant and more quiet than usual.  

“It’s another reason why he wants to get back to Toronto so bad, he wants to settle things with Y/n.  He’s tried to convince himself that it’s just a misunderstanding, but everyone around him knows how it’s already going to play out–and it’s not going to end well.  It seems like he’s catching on.  Those pictures leave no room for questioning what’s going on between his wife and someone that isn’t him.” 

           Have Shawn and Y/n Mendes followed in the steps of many other famous couples, and not been able to handle their marriage in the spot light?  We were banking on the couple hitting the five-year marriage mark before anything like this happened.  

 What do you all think? Leave your comments in the section below.

––––

           “Hey, Shawn,” You sighed into the phone.  It was the fourth time he had missed your call, “It’s uh––me, again.”  Pacing around your room, you didn’t know what was going on with him that made him miss your calls multiple times.  Usually, he wouldn’t ever miss one, and if he did, he would call you back ten minutes later profusely apologizing.

  You had enough with pacing around your room, so you took a seat at the edge of your bed.  It didn’t stop the nerves though as your leg began to bounce, “I’m just calling to check up, it’s uh,” You looked over at the clock on your wall, “It’s almost midnight here, and I don’t know where you are,” Your voice dwindled off at the end as you held back a small cry, “I hope you’re having a great day, or that you’re getting a good rest because you work yourself too hard doing what you love,” You tried to lighten your own mood by letting out a laugh, “Just call me back, I love you and can’t wait to see you when you get home.”

           Quickly, you hung up the phone and dropped your head to rest between your knees.  Your whole body felt off, there was a reason why Shawn wasn’t calling you back and you couldn’t think of anything.  The thought of him purposefully ignoring you felt like being stabbed in the chest with the knife twisting.  Your head started to pound, and you couldn’t help but start to chew the inside of your lip.  

           You made your way up to your pillows on the bed and slowly made your way under the covers.  You brought the white sheets up to where they were tucked under your chin and curled up.  With a constant sharp pounding in your head, and uneven breathing, you realized that you had begun to cry without realizing it until you sat up and saw tear stains on the pillow.  You brought both hands up to your eyes to wipe away the tears, but it was useless.

Your husband was dodging your calls.  You knew he had been on his phone because he seemed to be constantly Tweeting more than usual.  So he had to have seen your calls.  Then the thought struck you that this was the first time you didn’t know where in the world your husband was. 

––––

           “I haven’t heard from him in a few days,” You spoke to Jessie as the two of you walked into the building for your weekly cooking class, “Not even a––“

           “Y/n,” You were cut off when you heard a familiar voice call your name, you cringed a bit, and turned to the right to see Ethan, “Thought you weren’t going to make it in for this lesson?” 

           You cleared your throat, “Uh, yeah, I wasn’t supposed to because my hus–––“

           “I’m glad you could join,” He cut you off, with a gleaming smile, before the word husband could make its past your lips. The way he was looking at you made you slightly uncomfortable so you awkwardly smiled and looked the other direction without a reply.

           With a nod of your head, you gave Jessie an odd look that she returned with a shrug.  The two of you made your way over to a little a cooking station and placed your bags under the table.  Jessie and you chatted as other people strolled into the class area and set up in their usual position as Ethan made small talk with the people around him.

           Once the time came to start the class, Ethan clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention, “We’ll be learning how to make a steak dinner,” He looked over and into your eyes, “For two.” 

           Jessie leaned over to you and whispered, “I think I threw up a little.”  You stifled a laugh because you shared the same reaction.  

           First, you and Jessie both successfully made the creamy scalloped potatoes and the little side Caesar salad to go along with the steak. You then seasoned the steak, put the steak to bake in the oven for a few minutes, and then turned on the gas burner on the stove.  You put canola oil in the pan, butter, garlic, rosemary and thyme as you took the steak out of the oven.  As you pulled the oven pan out, you bumped into someone.  

           “Oh, I’m sorry––“

            “You’re fine,” Ethan’s voice filled the air. You scrunched your nose up as he took a step closer to you from behind and, along with your hand, he took hold of the oven pan and settled it on the counter top.  Jessie side glanced over as she cooked her steak, and all you could do was widen your eyes and beg for help.

            Ethan then took a pair of tongs and placed the steak in the sizzling pan, “So, now what you do––“

           “I can help her cooking the steak,” Jessie cut him off.  She sensed how uncomfortable you were, and it even made her feel weird seeing how close Ethan pressed himself up against you.  She didn’t like how he was treating you and thought the behavior was inappropriate. 

           Ethan shook his head, “I’ve got it.  I should help my students out.”

           You cleared your throat, “I can handle it, someone else may need your help––” 

           “What am I getting paid to do if I don’t help you out?” Ethan raised an eyebrow. 

           But you weren’t backing down easily.  He’d made other advances on you during other lessons and this was your time to put your foot down, “I’m fine––“

            “Mrs. Mendes––“

           “Yes, Mrs. Mendes,” You stumbled over your words and began to talk faster than the speed of light.  Whenever you got extremely nervous, you always seemed to talk with your hands, “That’s my name, the one and only, and the prefix indicates that I’m married––“

           It seemed like Ethan didn’t like you mentioning how you were married and very much not looking for a relationship.  His eyes narrowed at yours and he took hold of your wrists.  His grip was too strong for your liking, and you looked up at him in shock.  The glowering possessiveness in his eyes frightened you.

  Ethan gripped your wrists tighter, “Moving your hands and having them fly around while other people are cooking isn’t safe––“

           “Hey,” Jessie turned off her stove, “You probably shouldn’t touch her––“

           You didn’t let Jessie finish her sentence before you ripped your wrists out from his hold.  Part of you was shocked that a teacher would take hold of his student in such a rough manner, and the other half of your brain couldn’t process what was happening because with pulling your wrist back, you brought your elbow down and it collided with the handle of the searing pan that the steak was cooking in. 

           You felt the sting of hot oils run down your back, and in response, you jumped forward, and Ethan was the person in front of you who caught you.  He looked at you with concern in his eyes, “Don’t move, you could be burned––“

           “Stop!”  Your voice was high and scratchy as you raised your voice at him.  It was then you realized that everyone had stopped their cooking and turned their attention toward the two of you.  Embarrassment flooded your whole body.   And you felt yourself heat up in a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear.  You grabbed your bag from under the table and rushed to put your coat on, not wanting anyone outside of the cooking studio to see the oil stains on you.

           “Y/n–” 

           You didn’t want to make any more of a scene, so while biting the inside of your lip to keep yourself from crying, you shook your head, “Thank you for a wonderful lesson today, but I don’t think I’ll be returning ever again.”

           And before he could reply, or try and put his hands on you again, you swiftly turned on your heel and sped walked out of the kitchen studio.

––––

           Sitting at the little breakfast nook in your apartment with a cup of tea would be more relaxing if your husband hadn’t blatantly been ignoring you for a few days.  You knew he was coming home today, but you were clueless as to where he was flying from or what time his flight was getting in.

           You were sipping on your tea, watching the Toronto traffic from your window, when your phone buzzed.  You looked down and saw Shawn’s name popped up.  You had to look at it again because after all the voicemails you left him, his first contact to you was a text message. 

            Just landed in Toronto.

           You stared at the blue text bubble in confusion.  Every time he was about to get on a plane, he would always text you, no matter what time it was.  He knew that you liked to know his travel schedule.  But this was the first time he hadn’t told you his travel information.  It made your stomach churn because now you definitely knew that something was wrong.

           So you sent him a text back; Do you want me to pick you up? 

           Almost instantly, he replied, No. 

           Your heart sank just a little when you read his message.  And then you started to feel it break piece by piece as you read the one word, one syllable, answer that held more negative. emotion than it should have.  With tears threatening to fall from your eyes at any time, you felt your phone buzz once more with a text from him; Andrew is driving me back. 

           You nodded to yourself as you typed back a simple; Ok.

           Neither one of you said how excited you were to see one another.  Which was odd because you and Shawn would always count down the days until you could see each other again, but this time, the two of you hadn’t talked in what seemed like forever.

           With the stress about not knowing what was wrong with Shawn and what happened yesterday at the cooking class, your heart was racing and you felt jittery until you saw a familiar car pull up to the side walk down below.  You peered out the window and saw your husband for the first time in a few months. Even though there were tons of unsettled questions between the two of you, you still felt your heart pick up speed at the sight of him like it had on your first date.

           He pulled out a little over the shoulder bag from inside the car and then you saw Andrew come around with a larger suitcase.  You saw the two of them exchange some words, but since you were so high up and looking down at them through the window, you couldn’t hear what either of them were saying.

           But a few moments later, Andrew and Shawn hugged, and then Shawn walked towards the building and Andrew got into his car and drove away.  Shawn didn’t even send you a text that he was close to your apartment, like he would normally do so you would be waiting in the lobby to greet him.  It looked like he didn’t want you to greet him in the lobby.  Or see you at all.

           He didn’t want you––his wife––he one who promised to love him forever no matter what, to be the first person to greet him when he came back from a long month or so from traveling.  Your daunting thoughts kept themselves on a loop in your mind that you didn’t even hear the door open.

           It was the sound of a suitcase rolling and a bag dropping on the floor that made you look up from the window.  For the first time in months, your husband was standing right in front of you and you didn’t have the need to run up and hug him.  Seeing him made your blood boil because of how unreliable he had been recently.

            You sat in the little nook and took a sip of your tea, “Have a nice flight?”  You kept your voice monotone.  You didn’t want him to know that your past few nights had been hell with him ignoring you, and that you were getting no sleep, imagining what your reunion would be like after radio silence from him.  And here you were, after every scenario you created in your mind, it did not turn out how you thought. 

His hair was disheveled, t-shirt wrinkled in every place, and his left sock was raised higher than the left.  It looked like he had the same problem as you––not being able to sleep for the past few days.  All you wanted to do was reach out to him and feel his arms wrap tight around you.  You missed his familiar smell, the one that his pillow still smelled like, even after countless washes.  You slept on that pillow every night he had been on tour.  

           In your mind, you imagined Shawn either apologizing for his silence, or having his face turn red as he yelled at you for something you had no idea about.  But it wasn’t either of those options.  It was just like how he had been treating you for the past few days; silence.

           His eyes held no emotion, the exhaustion evident in his face.  Shawn was silent, something that was worse than blowing up at you.  You imagined anything but him being mute about his feelings because Shawn was always a vocal person.  

It was the most deafening silence you had ever heard.

           You were waiting for a response to your seemingly innocent question.  But as he didn’t respond, you began searching for any facial clues as to any answer you could possibly find.  You were growing frustrated.  His face was kept with a neutral look; no creases in the eyebrows and not a scrunch of distaste with his nose.   

           Then you began to search for any other signs that would give away his answer.  He wasn’t tapping his foot, he wasn’t swaying from side to side, and he wasn’t twiddling his hands out of nervousness.

           His hands. 

           It was tiny, a detail that wouldn’t be caught by many. But with being married to a man for almost a year, you began to notice every little thing about them.  There were certain things that you knew Shawn would always keep on him, and as a married man, you knew he always wore his wedding band.  But as you looked at his left hand, you noticed that there was a small sliver of his skin that was lighter shade than the rest.

           His ring finger.

           You looked down at your left hand, your engagement and wedding ring were in their place, and you quickly looked back at Shawn’s left hand to see if your mind had been playing tricks on you.

           Shawn wasn’t wearing his ring, the symbol of marriage that brought two people, who loved each other more than life itself, together.

            Your heart stopped and you felt as if you were about to throw up at any minute, a feeling of doom weighed down your chest with every moment of silence passing.  Biting the inside of your lip, you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.  The silence that surrounded the two of you stole your voice.  You looked up at him, wanting to ask him why he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, but with silence stealing your voice, he gave it to Shawn who spoke without hesitation in his voice.

           “We need to talk.”

[the-headbop-wraith]

X

3 _ 42 The Land Time Forgot

  Part 4 - Final

 An extended time later, dedicated to the intense and unrelenting search for their friend, all of which resulted in no leads or inspiration to where he might’ve been hauled off. It was possible Arthur was still within the park, but it was also as likely that he was hauled out to a parking lot and smuggled away in an unmarked van. Vivi doubted those orchestrated events, given only one person was viewed dragging Arthur away. By the build they were larger than Arthur, not the same dimensions as Lewis, but enough muscles and mass to bully their thin friend into restraints.

 Nothing positive came from Mystery’s searching. It was harder for him to track scent trails if a possession or shoe didn’t make direct contact with the ground or standing structures, such as plants or fences. Likewise, the cart that got away was speculated to not have returned to the park grounds. If he was not within the park, their search was near impossible.

The remaining three made their way through the Historically Accurate Old West district, with Mystery leading the way sniffing on the air or scanning the ground. By now, the park was nearly deserted aside from the work crews roving around, cleaning up the plots of ambient landmarks – in the case of the Old West ™ - they touched up bleached out paint on stagecoaches and trimmed back cactuses amid a gravel patch. Technical crews descended on the rides, to give last checks before the attractions shut down for the evening. Natural light faded away, permitting the intense lamps dotted across the park to award visibility to the current groups.

 “This isn’t working,” Lewis noted. “We just have to go by the security offices and see about examining those cameras.”

 Vivi sighed. “I know you’re right, but searching through all those cameras can lead us to the same situation. Trying to figure out where they went, after the train.” She paused for a moment and observed the work crews, expertly raking the gravel around a tall saguaro cactus.

 Asking people if they saw a ‘lizard man’ driving a golf cart around, had warranted many obtuse gawks, gaggles, and some giggles. Most people thought they were acting out some sort of park gag or something, and a few others asked if a hidden camera was involved. People.

 “It would be a lead though,” Vivi supposed. She gave a whistle, and Mystery whipped his head up.

 “Better than nothing,” Lewis quipped.

 Unbeknownst to the group, a golf cart rolled through the pathway of the Historically Accurate Old West district. The vehicle only halted when the driver spied the group from a distance, headed for the district exit. The driver wore a park merch hoody, and under the rustic eave of a shut-up memento shop, the shadows draped them near completely.

 “There they are,” he muttered, exasperated. He struck the steering wheel, then pulled up the phone. The pale light of the screen traced across the lower features of his face, and a downcast frown. “Last warning. There won’t be another.”

  __

  Darkness pressed in upon the expanse of the storage chamber. The noises outside, the screaming and thunder of music rolled off an hour or something ago. There was no certifiable way to figure how much time passed, aside from the pins and needles prickling through his arms, and the claws pinching into his sides.

 He didn’t recall when the golf cart lost power. It was motionless, and the steady drone of electric current – something he was accustomed to with car batteries – brought about an unnatural stillness. Like being stuck in a long abandoned, and likely haunted house. Arthur shivered.

 No response was coming from the Allosaur. It remained dormant and stiff, some of its features became perceivable as the gloom molded around his senses. He couldn’t see it, but he could perceive the presence of its hull. And the cheese-shredder claws locked into his vest.

 At this point, his vest must have been reduced to ribbons. He worked diligently for the past hour, with his wrists bent and knotted into his lower back. Through a grand deal of effort and shifting, cautiously biding his actions by the minute – fearful that any drastic movement might activate the machine (and then what he didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out) – Arthur managed to haul his entire body up by a mere foot. But that meager amount of transfer set his bound wrists high enough to reach the Allosaur’s sharp talons, where he rubbed the thin fabric of cloth. He was exhausted and hungry, the circulation in his arms hummed. Too focused on the work, laboring to fix this latest fuck up.

 The bind on his wrists snapped. Arthur wriggled, twisting his legs beneath him. With the Allosaur’s talons latched around his torso, he was forced to squirm upward. It didn’t have a grip over his shoulders, which permitted him to get one arm free. He hesitated, thus far the Allosaur hadn’t budge, and the servos remained locked. With a lot more twisting and more effort, he heaved his waist free—

 And plummeted to the floor at Allosaur’s feet. The dust swirled around his head, and he sneezed. No response and no shift from the Allosaur. Movement. It was waiting on movement. If he could get his legs free, he might could outrun it.

 As was suspected, the claws of the Allosaur feet were sharp. He rolled his legs over and, with some fumbling knocked the binds against the dagger claw of a toe.

 Without warning the Allosaur shifted, the machine whirred to life. Arthur cringed down, trying to make himself as small and minuscule as possible. Damn! DamnDamnDamn! He winced. The animatronic creaked to life and took a step. It was moving… away? It didn’t notice him? Unable to see, Arthur remained stony and alert. The hissing hydraulics and low grumble of the mechanical dinosaur continued, becoming fainter as it roamed further away. It wasn’t coming back. Of course, it shouldn’t. The machine only knew what the puppeteer told it.

 He grappled with the bind on his ankles, tearing out bits and chunks of the threads until his legs could rip the sash free. Then, he stumbled through the murk, up until he collided with the golf cart. He stilled upon impact, certain the machine would come thundering back with a shriek. That didn’t happen. It was called away, and he was fearful of why.

 Where was it? The guy dumped it all in— Found it! He unrolled the magazine, and groped around for his phone. The screen lit up when he brushed it, and he was immediately thumbing through the contact list. Shit! He needed to get moving!

 Arthur shoved the essentials back into his pockets, save for the magazines. He used the light of his phone to gather his bearings and began moving. “Pick up, c’mon,” he grumbled.

 The third ring got a response. “Arthur!” Vivi screeched, “Where are you?”

 “I’m in the Bahamas, having the time of my life,” he groused.

 “Arthur…” she growled, over the line.

 “I dunno!”

 Lewis was in the background, yelping, “What ya mean, y’don’t know?”

 “I didn’t write up a detailed map of where he took me!” He tossed an arm high, as if they could witness the exasperation. “I’m just calling to say I’m dandee, and also I hope you three are prepped for bagging dino.” He slowed down some when the noises of the Allosaur’s jog echoed ahead. He didn’t want to test its limits, or intents. “I think it’s got your scent.”

 In the background flew some fervent discussion, Mystery barking, and Lewis proclaiming they are not prepared at all.

 “Where are you?” Vivi returned.

 “I. don’t. Know.” The floor slopped beneath his feet and he nearly tumbled. The Allosaurs reverberating march continued ahead, stinted by the curvature of the corridor. “I’m trying to get out of here, so I’m following the Allo. You guys should probably think of something, get to work. I’ll call you back here in a bit.”

 “What’re you gunna do?” Lewis called. “Art?”

 “I sure as hell ain’t gunna lasso the thing.” He had to slow down at the base of the slope and tone the voice down. Having the pitiful light of the phone didn’t benefit his vision in the abyss surrounding him, but he could make out the noises of… a metal creaking. Familiar metal creaking. The door. That was the entrance. “I’m gonna keep tabs on it, while I can. I’ll call you if anything changes.” He hung up, barring further discussion or argument to follow. Knowing Vivi, she wouldn’t waste time calling back.

 The gate clinked, and a bar of light sliced through the barrier of black. The Allosaur’s feathered shape squeezed through the thin veil, its tail zipped out of sight. From a distance, Arthur pursued, cautious of moving through the entry too quickly. He needed to get outside and get his bearings, reconnect with the others.

 It was a short ascent to reach the ground floor and the district pathway. The walls surrounding him appeared to be brick, and the ground cobblestone themed. Arthur hurried the remainder of the way out of the alley for cast access, and stopped on the curb to catch his breath. It felt good to drink in that fresh air, after hours trapped in the musty storage chamber.

 Upon raising his head back, he choked on the air. Or maybe that was a bug, buzzing around. Or it was the fresh air, and the shock.

 Across from him stood the Allosaur, stooped and snarling. That wasn’t so terrifying since it wasn’t facing him. What stole his breath away were the figures directly in its line of sight, those cutouts he knew better than anything else in the world.

 They actually didn’t have a lot of time to prep.

 The team was well on their way to security headquarters when the call came through. Arthur was all right, excited and out of breath but he managed to make a call. It was a lot to unpack, where to even begin? Then the Allosaur emerged from a narrow crevice in the castles wall. Lewis spied it first, and sagged Vivi by the shoulder before she could take another step.

 Allo locked onto them immediately. It crouched down and emitted a low, deadly snarl.

 Vivi leaned toward Lewis. “Maybe it’s vision is based on movement.”

 “This isn’t a movie,” Lewis warned. Regardless, he pegged survival on not moving.

 One of the golfcarts driven by the maintenance crews cruised by, like a tumbleweed sweeping across an old western set. The Mystery Skulls watched it go on its way and keep going; the Allosaur didn’t shift an inch.

 Woof.

 “New plan,” Lewis hissed. He began pushing Vivi by the shoulders. “Scram while the scrammin’ is good.”

 At once the Allosaur flexed the talons decorating its arms and gave a grating growl. It coiled back, gears shifting in its spine and ankles as it measured out its weight. Before it could launch, a screeching theme song began playing… off at its side. The Allosaur shuddered, and swung its snout

 Arthur was in mad dash across the pathway, phone held above his head. “Hey guys! Small world!” He gave a piercing wail when the Allosaur gave chase.

 Lewis face palmed. “What’re you doing man?!”

 A mock crystal display decorated the center of the pathway, with small multicolored chambers, and light glittering within. Arthur ducked into the small crawl space. “Buy ya some time!” He zipped through on his hands and feet; the display was built for smaller guests, with twisting tunnels and chambers within. The Allosaur got its head trapped at the entrance, while Arthur scrambled through the whole thing like a hamster.

 “Guys got the control!” Arthur sprang from the exit slide, and swung his phone up high. “He has to be somewhere around here!”

 Vivi cupped her hands around her mouth. “What doe she look like?” Lewis tapped her on the shoulder.

 “Gotta be someone around here, watching – keeping tabs.” He ran over to a cobblestone wall and leapt onto it, adding some height to his impressive stance. He curled his hands over his brows and began scoping the area.

 Vivi grabbed Mystery by the collar. “Go take care of Artie in case he runs out of lives.”

 Mystery whimpered and turned his lips down. No, you can’t be serious!

 “You got two pairs of legs he’s got one,” Vivi scolded. “It’s just a boring old machine.”

 RAWWR!

 “With teeth. Go!” She pushed Mystery off, until he got his legs working and galloped on his way. Then, she raced over to the wall where Lewis stood and climbed up. Lewis reached down and took her arm, he hoisted her all the way up to plop down onto his shoulders.

 “Not seein’ much. Aside from a giant chicken chasing a scrawny worm.”

 Vivi got into Lewis backpack and pulled out a uniocular. “The phone. He might see what our dino sees.”

 “Only what the dino sees,” Lewis speculated. He began walking along the wall top, keeping his balance despite Vivi’s insistent leaning and tugging on his shirt collar. “Did Allo hear Arthur, or did our guy see Arthur first?”

 “That’s a good question!” Vivi winced, and focused her attention the opposite way Lewis was facing. “Lew!”

 “Present.” He reached up for Vivi, to stop her from toppling off. She leaned down over his head, took his chin and angled his view around.

 “Over yonder.”

 Lewis twisted around and did his best to align his view of sight, with whatever Vivi was fixated on. It wasn’t hard to make out, a vague silhouette fitted at a balcony of some tavern themed building. The figure was not paying heed to the surroundings, but focused on the softly glowing device in their hands.

 “They could just be slacking off, and texting somebody,” he offered.. Vivi began slipping off his shoulders, easing down to the wall by her own accord.

 The figure moved their interest from the comforting glimmer of their phone, and spied Vivi with Lewis, inspecting their stance. With a jolt, the person swung away and dove off into the gloom of the balcony – towards a door or alternative exit.

 “Sure,” Vivi mocked. She tugged Lewis off the wall to ground level with her.

 “Hey!” Lewis harked, “You won’t get away this time!” He started running, leading Vivi by the hand. She couldn’t help the sappy smile set on her face. Classic Lewis.

 The door to the shop was locked tight. Lewis barreled into it and gave it a firm shake, rattling the plexiglass. “Damn!”

 Vivi fixed her headband. “He’d have gotten away anyway, by time Arth—” A sound caught her immediate attention and she whipped around. The guy had tripped, or had fallen, or stumbled on something – point was he was sneaking off behind them. The guy twisted around and scrambled on the descending steps as they flopped about, trying to dart one way or the other in the failed retreat.

 “You there!” she screamed, pointing.

 The person pulled their legs under them and charged off, towards a cluster of maintenance workers repairing a short fence post and the frayed rope. They slapped their hands over their hoody, keeping it in place while they zoomed.

 “You might as well stop running!” she hooted, taking pursuit. “We’ve done this gig a dozen times.”

 “Huh?” A touch oblivious, Lewis spun about searching for his teammate. “I uh… yeah! It’s over for you now!”

 The cloaked figure dove into one of the unguarded golfcarts and hit the acceleration. His first and only thought get away from these nuts; the last thought he had, and of miniscule importance, was the fact he dropped the phone somewhere.

 __

 It would be the most excellent of days if Arthur got out of this without getting snapped in two. He managed to gather some speed and distance on the mecha dino by taking a downward sloping path, which was open only to the maintenance vehicles and golf carts. The path was narrow, but didn’t pause the Allosaur at all in its pursuit; it did however force the machine to slow its movement in order to calibrate for the offset in its balance. That didn’t stop it from hissing and being a friggin’ terrifying attraction.

 Mystery gave a yip and hopped the decorative little lattice fence and plopped into a lush shrubbery plot. The garden ran either side of the pathway and was aesthetic in its mission to conceal the vehicles as they roamed. Light flashed through the canopy of the grove, the patterns glittered across Mystery’s white pelt and flashed over his glasses. He gave a sequence of yips as he burst through the undergrowth.

 In a breathy lunge, Arthur followed the pooch. “Getting that cardio, eh Misty?” The response was a bark. “Good tu hear!” He stumbled when scrambled off the clear path and into the thicket, his shoelaces snagging on the sinister crooked limbs.

 The two burst from the brush, leaves flying everywhere. Arthur spat out a few as he kept pace, taking the left that Mystery tilted into. A small grouping of the groundskeepers halted work blowing leaves and trimming trees, in order to behold the scene. Up until the Allosaur crashed from the barrier of trees, a terrible shriek igniting from its sound system. They scattered with yelps and dives.

 Mystery ducked and vaulted over metal guard rails, the scene encircling the zone displayed bright colored metal and cement. Arthur was above, scrambling atop the bars like some anime character in intense training. He slipped on the third to last and tumbled, crashing within the barriers. Mystery zipped back over and took his shredded vast sleeve and dragged him off behind a wall.

 A few meters away, the Allosaur came to a halt and stood steely on the pavement. Slowly and with deliberate precision, its head began moving side-to-side scanning the walls and fabrication of the park, examining cement walls and decorative displays, labeling attractions and directions to rides. Nothing caught it’s attention, despite crew members racing around in the background and bailing the site.

 Behind the wall, Arthur was struggling to calm his panting. A little black paw pressed over his lips. He frowned. “Where have those been, Mister?”

 Mystery snorted.

 “You!” Someone snapped, from the side. Arthur’s face paled and her jerked, knocking Mystery off his lap. “What d’you think you’re doing here?” The guy in a park uniform carried a clipboard, metal box combo – the same or near identical to ones used at the shop. This guy tugged at the communicator clipped to his shoulder, a garble of obnoxious static and overlaying conversations rolled through.

 “Security! I got some kid here, snuck into the park.” He took his thumb off the transmitter. “Stay put right where you are. Don’t even breathe.”

 Mystery grimaced, and brought a paw to his face. “Shh!”

 “Dude!” Arthur snapped, on the verge of tears. “Shaddup!”

 The guy blinked, clear astonishment radiating from him. “Don’t you dare tell me to shut up! You know how much trouble—”

 A bellowing yowl cut him off.

 “What was that!?”

 “Fuck!” Both Arthur and Mystery sprang up and darted around either side of the guy, provoking him to whirl around like a top.

 An instant later, the Allosaur clambered over the metal dividers of the ride entrance. Once it bypassed the obstacles, it swung its snout and all its teeth to the ride mechanic.

 “Ho-shit!” The mechanic properly noped out and took a dive into the nearest shrubs.

 It was too late for Arthur and Mystery, the two dashed down the ride dock. An open door to the side caught the hounds immediate interest and he shot in, followed by Arthur. Arthur flipped the lights off and shut the door, but there was no lock.

 “Not like it’d use the handle.” A dull thump broke his fantasy of safety, and he looked over to the Plexiglas barrier that displayed the full length of the ride, the rollercoaster train, and the Allosaur glaring in. “Is… that bullet proof? Ya think?”

 Mystery woofed. Does it really matter, ya think?

 The Allosaur shoved its snout against the clear barrier, its eyes flashing ominously in the lights cast by the attraction twisting around it.  A crack formed in the window, but the substance held firm. Snarling and hissing, it slammed its head and claws against the window. The clear material snapped in two, one portion warped and slid out of the frame. The Allosaur began climbing through, its jaws snapped inches from Arthur’s face.

 He let loose an ear splinting wail and snatched up an empty Styrofoam cup. The projectile bounced off the menacing snout. Mystery yapped and dove under the Allosaurs line of sight, he stopped at the door and stood on his rear legs scrambling at the door handle.

 “Are you nuts?!” he shrieked.

 Mystery barked, his dogs ears bobbing. Enjoy your corner!

 Arthur cursed and, following a grand deal of prayer, crawled under the Allosaur’s gnashing jaws. He was still crawling on his stomach, though he was very clear of the dinosaurs reach, even when he reached the door. With a flick of his wrist, the door popped open and Mystery bounded out.

 The Allosaur twisted, its reading and interpretation code aware its quarry was escaping. Yet, it was confined by the shattered barrier. It wriggled, talons tearing at the control panel beneath it. Lights rolling throughout the coaster track blazed, and with a gush of hydraulics not from within the mecha dino, the train carts became active. The animatronic continued the fight to dislodge itself and renew pursuit, all before it had successfully wriggled lose. Its tail swung dangerously through the docking station, nearly taking off Arthur’s head.

 Luckily he was spry and managed to stunt roll, following with a few rolls that relocated him far beyond the Allosaur’s range of movement. Mystery was galloping ahead, going for the divers end and the cultivated grove ahead.

 With a final wrench the Allosaur tore the Plexiglas loose, and swung its shoulders free. It gave chase after the targets, lunging and snapping.

 Arthur wobbled, nearly pitching over the side of the dock. The rollercoaster cart chugged into view on the leveled track, and he made the leap. “Mystery!” He whistled, and waved the dog over.

 The hound wasn’t the dinosaurs immediate focus, he still cowered beneath the feet when it snapped out. On Arthur’s lead, he sprang like a gazelle and landed gracefully on the front cart. Then, the coaster hit the divider in the track and the Mystery dog lost his balance and spiraled sideways, off the vehicle and into the shrubs below.

 “Whoa, wait! Where’d you go?” Arthur leaned over, searching the five or something foot drop. The divider activated a failsafe in the rollercoaster’s train cart, and the safety bar swung downward over Arthur’s arm, braced to the headrest. “Um?” At first, he mistaken the error as an easy fix. Pull the bar up and loose. But it was a safety mechanism, with a manual override in the control office. Somewhere. He jerked at the bar, even as the coaster train began up the steep incline that initiated the ride. “Fuck… fuck-fuck-fuck! Oh my fucks!” He tried to angle his knee against the backrest, the bar was really digging into his arm. “Feck-fo-FREK!”

 Below, the Allosaur watched with perceivable agitation as the roller coaster train inched out of range. Unable to reach its target for the time, it swung away and sought out a new location to reengage.

 There was no better option open to Arthur, but hunker down and brace himself. His mind ran through the threats and dangers, what sort of coaster was this? He didn’t see. The g-force could be enough to rip his arm off, he would be lucky if he only suffered a broken limb. Worse could happen, if he didn’t wedge himself down good and tight.

 The coaster train peaked at the initiating drop, and Arthur nearly blacked out. A ninety-degree drop loomed, and illuminated here and there were the more prominent twisty-curves of the ride. He tasted blood, he either bit his lip or his tongue, he wasn’t sure which. The others, they had no idea where he was. There was Mystery, but where was he?

 A pensive hiss issued from the coaster train when it paused and drew out the agonizing seconds. He patted through his vest and pants, searching for his phone. Then the train slid forward, gaining speed as the vehicle dipped into its full and unrestrained plummet. Its wheels rattled and the whole train vibrated. Arthur held on for dear life and shrieked.

  __

  “I say the guy ditched the giddup, and is somewhere mingling with the work crews,” Lewis theorized. He was waiting for Vivi to catch her breath, near a fence and a lush plot of trees. The acreage was mostly thick shrubbery growing beside a sheer and expansive cliff face. “Or, he could be hiding anywhere.” One hand cradled his chin, while he examined the fostered brush.

 Some of the lights across the park went off for the long hours of the night, while others remained on to stylize the attraction for all hours of the late. And also safety ordinances with aircraft and tall structures. The intrusive lamps were not the same as the on-ride decorative colors and aesthetic luminosities which thrilled the riders.

 “We need Mystery,” Vivi spoke, still gasping and hanging off the fence. “More importantly, we need to get that dino wrangled. It’s really thrown a wrench in the situation.”

 “Yeah,” Lewis huffed, trying to blow hair out of his eyes. “It kinda doesn’t let up, huh?” He bent a brow at Vivi when she snapped her head up.

 “I think something’s gone wrong. My Arthur senses are tingling.” She looked around. The scenery was placid, the maintenance guys doing their thing, not paying them any mind.

 “‘Arthur senses’?” Lewis mused, with a smirk. “Is that a thing now?”

 “I’m gonna start it, watch me!” She crossed her arms and nodded, affirming dedication.

 “Look, I’m certain the Allo didn’t catch him, or Mystery.”

 The careening thunder of the roller coaster ttain swooping by on a nearby, previously cold track, caught his focus for the moment. The churning rumble was no contest to the distinct pitch of wailing assaulting the evening sky, rising in intensity as the whole cart blasted by and then dying out as the coaster train shot out of an inverted twirl. Both Vivi and Lewis observed, deadpan.

 “Technically speaking,” he began, “it didn’t catch him.”

 Vivi fixed her glasses, cleaned them, then set them back on her face. “Somehow, I think this is worst.”

 Across the pathway, the maintenance workers began diving and bolting for the cover of the landscapes they were working around or in. The Allosaur went charging through, a white blur right in its sights.

 “All right,” she grumbled. “Allosaur two, us zilch.”

 Lewis spun around and hoped the fence. “But who’s keeping score?” He bypassed one of the signs, warning of danger to bodily harm due to the coasters proximity. A slope eased down, to the low point the coaster would pass through. In the distance, Arthur’s harrowing squeal became more pronounced.

 “Lew!” Vivi yelped, leaning over the first barrier. “What d’ya think you’re doing? Danger!”

 He waved over his shoulder. “No worries! I’m a professional!”

 “Of what?! Stunts gone wrong?” Vivi hit her fist to the barrier and winced. She wrenched around, the Allosaur gave a grating and ravenous snarl. “I’ve just about had enough of this!” In the chase of the man in the mask, or shroud, or whatever, they sped through the game zone. There were more food vendors within, along with pistol games that utilized water guns, and some that used projectile disks. If she had to, she’d go Rambo on that hunk of metal.

 In the background, Mystery was still leading the mecha dino across the district. He dove under a set of que ropes, scrambling like a spider among the poles. The Allosaur came to a stuttering halt and swayed, its feet pawed at the ground as it sidestepped. Vivi shot by without a glance, toward the entrance of the arcade and carnie games.

 While Vivi took off to initiate a fool proof plan, Lewis swung over the last and tallest fence, to place himself within the rollercoaster track lane. Above, the hurtling cart came whizzing through at a speed peaking on fifty miles an hour, minimum. Along with it, the terrorized passenger screeching.

 “Hold on Artie!” Lewis sprinted, following the overhead track as it jerked and spiraled.

 “Are you nuts?” Arthur howled. He was losing vigor, barely able to keep his legs within the coaster box. “NO! Lew! It’s too— AARRRRRRRRRRRGH!” The rollercoaster twisted and hurtled downward into a steep dip, the track cleaved through an alcove within the ground. When the full train passed through the chasm, it decelerated significantly – enough that Lewis could leap up and snag that last cart, without losing a hand or being belted aside like a ragdoll.

 “Hah! Nailed it—” Lewis nearly missed latching onto the safety bar, a fraction before the whole train flew into a sharp series of loops. Once again, the coaster is off on its bullshit, accelerating to sixty-five or something miles per hour, diving and curving.

 Whenever the coaster calmed down for a sporadic pause, Lewis inched up a cart. It was tedious, as the cart dividers were somewhat sleek and slippery from being cleaned. The full body braces assisted, in that they were sturdy and didn’t unhook.

 “Don’t worry, I’m here!” Lewis proclaimed, when he at last reached Arthur.

 Arthur glared back as the coaster inched its way up the steep climb, back at square one. “WHY! Didn’t you just shut off the coaster?”

 The grin on Lewis’ face dissolved. “Um, well, that might’ve been a worthwhile option….”

 “You meathead!”

 “Hey, I’m not the mechanic here!”

 Once more, Arthur fought at his arm trapped in the brace. “We’re both gunna DAI, and then we’ll be the latest attractions for this park!”

 “Think positive, Artie!” Lewis climbed onto the first and foremost train cart and gave the device a quick look over.

 “It’s jammed!” He tried to squeeze down, and jam his elbow under the brace. However, he was short on energy to supply, and flopped sideways when he lost his footing. Lewis wrapped an arm around his shoulder and grabbed ahold of the brace.

 “Take it easy, I’ll get you off.” The coaster came to the topmost of its track and paused. Lewis frowned. “Darn.”

 “Trust me,” Arthur wheezed, “The first nine times, and you get used to it.” They flew into the drop, and Arthur was pretty certain Lewis was clinging to him so he wouldn’t get thrown off. “Fun, eh?!”

 “We’re gunna DAI!”

 “That’s the spirit!” Arthur cackled.

 The coaster accelerated into a chute and eased off the speed, but it rumbled on with sinister purpose. Lewis released his grip on Arthur. “Brace yourself!”

 Before Arthur could inquire why, or really prepare, Lewis smashed his knee against the brace forcing the bar down hard against Arthur’s already strained arm. A pitiful creaking lurched from Arthur’s gullet as the pain zipped through his arm.

 “Sorry! Had to reset the mechanism,” Lewis huffed. He shoved the bar up and out of the way, but doubled down on restraining Arthur to the coaster cart, as the train swung into another reckless dive. His sneakers skipped across the slippery metal plate of the floor, while the coaster vibrated along the tracks.

 Down below, one of the canopies for the prize corner loomed. It was the basket hoop toss, and there was a sizable net stretched between the poles on the three sides.

 Lewis didn’t get the chance to warn Arthur. His shoe already snapped loose, and it was either get flung like a marionette or choose a landing pad. The support of the roller coaster whistled by his ear, he wasn’t really certain if they would hit the mark he aimed for – given the velocity and trajectory of the coaster’s movement. It was swinging into a turn, gaining momentum. Arthur tried to get out some other sort of noise, but he was likely still stunned from his arm that he couldn’t generate the sort of sound appropriate to free flight.

 The entire basketball court collapsed when Lewis hit the bar, which suspended one side of the nets. Fortunately, he and Arthur tumbled into the prize corral beneath, among the giant stuffed toys and packaged sport balls. A cacophony of squeaks and deflating balloons, among the toppled metal bars punctuated all ambition for recovery.

 “Ow….” Arthur groaned. “Lew. Why?”

 “I just wanted off,” he moaned. “No matter the cost.”

 “Was it worth it?”

 “Ask me in the morning.”

 “Lew.”

 “Hunh?”

 “If it’s not too much trouble… could you get off me?”

 It took several agonizing minutes for the two to untangle from the knotted snare, the mountain of cushy prizes, and each other; all in near total darkness. Aside from a lamp gleaming down on the side of the coaster, and it whooshing by periodically and rattling around the tracks, they might’ve lost track of where they’d dropped. Lewis dragged Arthur out by the collar of his vest, some of the netting remained snagged on his scrawny limbs.

 “C’mon Art, use your feet.”

 “I have been running… for five years now.” He caught himself on his fists, before his nose could smack the pavement. “Wha’s that?”

 A blazing shape zigzagged around the faux tents of carnie games, speeding as it closed in on Lewis and Arthur. At last it came in for a landing, skidding right into Arthur’s face. Lewis knelt and pet the dog.

 “Wait,” the taller figure said, a flash of worry in his face. “Wait-wait-wait… last I saw you—”

 The harking cry of the Allosaur obliterated through the screech of the roller coaster surging through, one more. It’s head twitched and the talons on its fists opened, another peeling shriek plunged through the open air as it lunged, teeth glistening..

 Arthur yelped and flipped over, fighting with his sneakers tangled in the net still. Lewis snatched up one of the basketballs and threw it at the Allosaur with all his might, the force and speed would’ve been something to admire. The sports ball merely deflected off the dinosaurs hard plastic frame. Arthur yowled and held Mystery tight—

 “KII-YAHH!”

 Everyone dove to the side, Lewis one way and Arthur with Mystery to the other. The Allosaur kept going, but it was stumbling and its feet came down in a frenzy when it lost all balance. In a fumbled miss step, the animatronic stalled and spun three times then came down in a heap beside the netted basket hoop tangle.

 Likewise, Vivi was still spinning, the bat clasped in her hands whizzing through the air before she crashed into one of the awning shields tied over a carnival game.

 “Vivi!” Lewis leapt out from behind the wall he took shelter beside, recoiling immediately when the Allosaur’s head skid into the corner of the solid barrier.

 “Did you see that!” Vivi whooped. She jumped up and swung the bat again, like a pro-pitcher. “Lew, you were all ‘I’m gunna wrestle this dino crocodile Dun-Dee style!’ And Arthur, you’re legs got all tangled! What the heck?” She mimed out another thunder-bashing swing. “And I was like, ‘Don’t touch my dog!’ Wham!”

 Arthur poked his head up from behind a stage set, Mystery latched to his skull like a koala. “Holy shit.”

 Lewis gawked. “I think I’m in love.”

 Arthur inched around and prodded the mechanical head with his foot. “Gimmie a break. All this time, we just had to release Vivi on it with a baseball bat. Really?”

 “Well,” Lewis chuckled, “you did say the metal wasn’t very sustancial.” He stood by and let Arthur beat the living bolts out of the inactive mechanical head. “Guess it was all bark, and not bite.”

 Woof. Mystery let go of Arthur and dropped to the pavement. He moved aside of the drama and flopped over. Gimmie five minutes, folks.

 “Should you really be messing with that thing?” Lewis muttered. He took a full step back.

 “I’m gonna get my kicks in!”

 “Hey! Are you listening to me!” Vivi hurried over. “But seriously, you three okay? Mystery? All puppered out?” She leaned low using the bat as a cane, and gave the poor pooch a well-deserved head rub. “You had us worried, Artie. It’s a good thing you managed to get loose.”

 The dino head stuttered, the jaw quivered and the mechanical eyes twitched. Arthur jolted and scrambled behind Lewis.

 “You know how the movies go,” Lewis mentioned.

 Arthur peeked out. “This isn’t a movie. It should’ve shut down completely, with the power source severed.” He noted Lewis had a vacant and very concerned stare, and followed the line of sight to where the Allosaur was squirming. Trying to stand, with no head. “Welp, that looks horrifying!”

 Whatever calibrated the Allosaur’s balance was gone, and also it shuffled sideways onto the collapsed basket court netting. The talons couldn’t coordinate and untangle from the woven netting, forcing the thing to topple sideways over and over.

 “I… guess it’s not going anywhere?” Lewis speculated.

 “But did you see me? Wasn’t that amazing? I never swung so hard in my whole damn life!” Vivi threw herself at Lewis, and he caught her in his arms.

 “I was a bit preoccupied with not getting trampled. But yeah, that was something else!” Lewis was about to pull Vivi in closer, but his attention snapped to a figure a distance from their gathering. A secluded, isolated figure strategically placed within the shade of the arcade patio, sifting through the gloom only enough to view the fate of the Allosaur.

 When he refocused altogether, Vivi’s curiosity searched for the cause. She frowned when her eyes alit on the same suspect. “Let’s see if we can get around him and—” The spectator either got wise to their sudden shift in mood, or freaked out completely on the loss of their asset. They took off.

 Vivi tore out of Lewis’ arms and snatched up the bat. Losing no time, she darted around the corny carnival tent stations. “I’ve had it with you!” She lined up with the guy, still barred on one side by the boarder of the shuttered-up arcade wall. There was no time to waste. With a decisive swing, the bat went whirling through the air like a saw.

 And cracked the wall short of her target. The guy kept running, but cast a fretful look over their shoulder.

 “Drat!”

 Lewis charged up behind her, winding back his arm. “My turn!” The basketball flew like it was shot out of a cannon and slammed directly into the person’s back, launching them two feet into the air. “Score!”

 The person recovered quickly, though they hadn’t gotten their bearing together. Before they could take a full and not lopsided-tipsy step, Lewis grabbed them from behind. The two toppled forward, Lewis on top of the guy and holding one of his wrists.

 “We gunna do this quietly, or you wanna make it ugly?”

 “Let me go!” The person shouted. “You don’t have the right!”

 “We don’t, do we?” Vivi retorted. She knelt beside the guy as he struggled, but Lewis was pressing measured weight onto the person. “This is a citizens arrest, my fine fellow. It would be in your best interest to cooperate until the police arrive, and we can sort this all out.”

 “What am I being arrested for?”

 Lewis pulled the person’s hoody back. “Being shady as fuck, that’s one,” he muttered.

 “Trespassing,” Vivi quipped. “I don’t recognize you, which is interesting. But I know someone who might.”

 “You! You can’t do this!” he snarled. Lewis pulled his other arm back, and Vivi applied one of the parks unbreakable wrist bands. “This is unlawful! I’ll sue!”

 “Oh no, oh please don’t.” Lewis hefted the guy onto his feet and kept him steady. “In all my life, I have never been threatened in such a way. Oh, the sleepless nights I’ll suffer.” He ushered the guy ahead, making sure to keep his elbows restrained.

 “But did you see that pitch!” Vivi proclaimed. “Out of this world!”

 Lewis snickered. “Oh Dio mío, Vivi. Calm down.”

 When they returned to the site where the Allosaur had its head cleaved off, the animatronic nuisance was still wallowing in the tattered remnants of the basketball netting. Large squeaky toys and some of the sport balls rolled around, or completely pulverized by the broken machine struggling to function without essential system readers. It looked very much like a cocooned lizard, or a spool of finely spun thread – in a clunky mess.

 Above the wall where the Allosaur head dropped, Arthur sat with Mystery at his side; the dogs head resting on his lap. He was giving the tuckered pupper shoulder massages after his traumatic and daring evening.

 “Ooh, you really did get someone,” he praised. “Y’sure that’s the guy, though?”

 “Did you call the police?” Lewis prompted.

 Arthur cringed down. “That’s Vivi’s job.”

 “You really going to do this?” the guy seethed. “Assaulted me, and now you’re trying to frame me for some… crime!” He struggled at Lewis’ grip, but made no profound effort to break loose.

 Vivi whistled. The Mystery dog shot his head up, ears high. “Mystery, hunny. We have a very special job for you.”

 Mystery slid back from Arthur and did that dog stretch, with his fore paws stretched all the way forward and his dog claws stretched to their fullest. With a shake of his pelt, he did a roll and flopped off the backside of the wall. Arthur watched this play out, apathetic.

 “Absolutely,” Arthur chimed. “You’re our guy.”

 “This is slander!” The guy erupted. Arthur lunged over the wall to hide.

 Vivi hauled out her backpack and located her phone. “I’m callin’ the cops.”

 It wasn’t actually the police that Vivi called, it was the security office, then the security office reached out to the appropriate department. While they waited for security to show up, Lewis returned Arthur’s backpack to him, and Arthur got to work on compiling the evidence the group collected. This evidence included the pictures Lewis caught while he and Arthur investigated around the park, and serial numbers from the materials torn from the Allosaur’s arm. He stuffed all of this onto two USBs the police could have, which was standard procedure for the group.

 At length, Mystery trotted back over with something in his teeth.

 “Nice going,” Arthur praised. “Didn’t crack it or anything. Clean as a whistle.”

 Vivi snatched the phone from Arthur and held it up to the guy, currently seated on the inactive Allosaur head. “How ‘bout you unlock this for us?”

 He glared at the device, the locked screen gleamed in his face. “I’ve never seen this before. Ever. I have no idea what’s going on here.” He checked on Lewis at his side, keeping him stationary with his presence alone.

 “Mm hmm.” She swept away, and returned the phone back to Arthur. Without a word, Arthur began tapping at the screen. He knelt on the ground beside Mystery, while the hound observed with all the intensity of a teacher overseeing his student. “Yet, you’re not curious about all this crazy we got here.” She motioned a hand towards the broken Allosaur.

 The machine body at long last ceased moving. It looked creepy, bent and knotted up the way it was.

 “Question.” Arthur rose and moved closer to the guy, holding the phone all the way out to the full extent of his arm. “This you?”

 It was a selfie of the guy.

 Vivi took the phone and continued scrolling. “Was it really a good idea documenting the whole process of building your dino?”

 He scoffed. “You can’t prove I built it.”

 “You built animatronics though.” Vivi stuck the phone into a plastic baggy Arthur produced. “Not a lot of people can do that. Your friends, they have a very specialized skillset.” She took the baggy from Arthur and held it toward the guy. “You wouldn’t happen to have their pics on the phone, would you? Of course not, who would do that?”

 A large hand capped down on the guy’s shoulder, and Lewis stooped. “It would be a shame if they could be cited as accomplices. Not that we’d touch the topic, pero ya sabes, that is evidence for the authorities to pick—”

 “They let me go from the team,” the guy blurted. He dropped his gaze from Vivi’s unimpressed face, and scrutinized his shoes. “When they found out I used parts from another job, to build a substitute.”

 Vivi nodded. “You and your colleagues began work for a competitor to Fanatical Hypes ™, and that resulted in the bust contract. A violation. But then you took it upon yourself to sabotage Geoff’s park, and make him fold under the pressure of those lost profits, so he’d compensate for the assets. Do I have that right?”

 The guy took a deep breath. “It’s not that simple. It was a percentile in those cancelled payments, and they still have to do something with the skins. A lot of uppity businesses do this all the time, and commissions are hard enough to get right without the client throwing a fit in the midst of finalizations. And getting the courts to recognize contract agreements, it’s a bitch! You get that?”

 “Yeah,” Vivi uttered. “We know what that’s like.”

 Where he sat beside the wall, Mystery tilted his head and raised one ear.

 The guy dipped his head further. “Trust me, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

 “I sort of have a hard time believing the, ‘oh woes and pity me’ spiel,” Lewis grumbled. He still loomed over the cringing guy, face stern. “The animatronics you built.”

 “And programed,” Arthur prompted.

 “And programed. They’re not toys, they’re super dangerous when not handled correctly. You put an AI in a bulldozer that identifies as a raptor, and set it loose in a recreational setting.”

 “Lovin’ the PSA vibe.” Arthur remained seated by the wall working on his computer to compile essential info, fully engrossed in shuffling files. “Also, you kidnapped me and shoved lots of threats in my face.”

 “Did he?” Lewis growled. “That’s seriously F’ed up.”

 “Boys-boys.” Vivi pushed Lewis back, before he could… likely haul the guy off the ground and throttle him. “That’s not our business anymore. Now, this becomes law enforcement jurisdiction.” She pointed to a series of golfcarts ambling in their general direction. She looked to the guy. “Our job ended with the Allosaur’s capture. But I recommend you cooperate with the authorities. They’re usually a lot less forgiving than us.”

 “Y’know dude,” Arthur stood, and ejected one of the USBs from his computer. “You could’ve just not messed around with us. Taken the dishwasher with teeth and vamoosed. But making a statement, and gettin’ Geoff to crumble under the pressure meant more. You’re lucky, you know that.” He tossed the USB to Vivi.

 The guy frowned. “How am I lucky? I’m going to jail for this.”

 Arthur shrugged. “We stopped ya before this could escalate. You think soulless corporate would cave, and pay out what he’s not putting to use?” He shook his head, and sat on the wall, finishing up the last USB. “We got you before someone could get seriously hurt. But sure, it’s our fault.”

  The golf carts arrived and the enlisted law enforcement along with Fanatical Hypes ™ escort, took over the situation of officially taking the guy into custody. The engineers names was Yandel Jenkins, and there was a little more information about his history tied to the group of creatures builders that supplied assets to the theme park. However, since that was out of the Mystery Skulls hands, Arthur finished compiling and cross referencing the evidence that was collected and handed over the USBs. Whatever else the park security required, they’d assemble it on their own following involved statements.

 Hours later the group was on their way out of the park, it was very late and most the work crews fulfilling their nocturnal duties pilfered out. The area resumed relative normalcy, aside from the spare shift tugged out to organize the area where the Allosaur fell. That was way on the far side of the park.

 “Seriously a shame,” Arthur was saying, as the crew discussed the recent case. They were going through the events, trying to figure who was where when this or that situation came about. And how Arthur managed to get stuck on a roller coaster. “All that work and talent. I don’t get why people like him do it.” He walked with his arms folded behind his head, stretching out his aching muscles from where the Allosaur pinched him.

 Lewis curled a thoughtful hand over his chin. “Well, if you’re company anticipated that extra point something percentage in incurring payments, it can mean the difference in leasing and supplies. Not saying our guy was in the right, but it’s something to regard when reviewing possible motivations.”

 “Oh yeah, I guess,” Arthur mumbled.

 “My family started their own business,” Lewis elaborated. “Any little profit you can squeeze out go towards improving your services, or the product. They did it without cutting corners, and it was heckin’ hard. Food expires fast, car parts and oil has a longer shelf life.”

 Arthur shrugged.

 “I guess they’ll have the park opened tomorrow and everything,” Vivi supposed. They made their way down the last stretch, the main road to the grand entrance and exit. “We can come on by and see how it looks. Catch some more rides, if we want. Certify those lifetime passes.”

 Mystery gave a little yap and bounced ahead. He wouldn’t need to wear that ridiculous vest, either.

 A low groan issued from Arthur, and he fitted his hands down over his face. “I dunno, I’m kinda all vacationed out. I think I’m ready to hit the road. Seriously missin’ the cramped space of the van.”

 “What about the food?” Vivi prompted. “Free food. Drinks. Treats. Desserts. Concessions.”

 “Mehhh….” Mystery padded over and walked beside Arthur’s legs, bumping his knees. “Pass. Free stuff is great, but kinda burnt out on carnie goodies. Nothing beats Pepper Paradiso’s. ‘Least, when someone’s lil sisters aren’t sabotaging a perfectly good sundae.”

 Lewis groaned. “I don’t even know how that’s possible. Lechería is supposed to counteract the burn.”

 “Who said that was dairy?”

 Vivi tried very hard not to giggle. “If that’s the final verdict, we can start snooping on where we’ll go next. Hmm? Speaking of which.” She pulled her backpack around to her front, and opened it from the side. “Got a something for our scrapbook.” Unanimously, Arthur and Lewis groaned. “I promise it’s really good.”

 Pulling out a card, she began moving to one of the tall lampposts that stood beside the pathway. “Check it.” The three followed.

 “Oh please, is that what I think it is.” Arthur was first to take the side of the stiff booklet, and shifted it by a fraction under the light. “No, Vivi!”

 “What?” Lewis posed. Arthur handed him the card, and he flipped the cover back. “Oh no! Vivi!”

 She pulled her collar higher over her lower face. “The machine automatically printed it, I guess. I couldn’t leave it, you both look… excited.”

 “Excitement is an understatement!” Arthur whooped. He reached for the card, but Lewis held it up high out of his reach. “Gimmie! I don’t want my near-death experience immortalized!”

 Lewis backed away, pushing Arthur off before he could climb up his shoulders. “C’mon Artie! Calm down, we got out of this unscathed.”

 “Unscathed! My arm is numb still!”

 “Relatively,” Lewis insisted. “It’s a memento. We’ll keep it, and check it out sometimes to remind us to be more careful. Suena bien?” He arched his arm high over Arthur’s head, and handed the card back to Vivi. She secluded it away in her backpack, where it would be safe.

 “Mark my words!” Arthur hastened his steps, leaving the protective cone of light. “When you least expect it, I’ll chuck that incriminating evidence!” Mystery barked and scurried after him.

 “Admit it!” Vivi slapped an arm around Arthur’s lower back. “You love it! Ten years from now, we’ll have a great ol’laugh.”

 Lewis joined on the other side, nearly throwing the two over as he put his arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “I’m laughin’ right now. Don’t deny it. You’re smiling. Don’t smile, Arthur.”

 “Stop! That’s not fair!” Arthur capped his hands over his face and muffled a scream.

 “Try not to smile Arthur,” Vivi goaded.

 “Oh, he’s blushing!”

 “It’s too dark to see blushing,” Arthur countered. Regardless, he still fought to hide his face all the more. “Jerks.”

 “Don’t blush Arthur,” Vivi chimed. “Don’t—”

 Arthur broke free and took off in a run. “Stop it! You’re ganging up on me!”

 With a jolly bark, Mystery galloped beside Arthur, his dog collar jingling. He gave off a few yips, nearly stumbling when he veered into Arthur’s legs.

 “No we’re not!” Lewis called, staggering into the chase. Vivi skipped along, taking on a couple leaping bounds as they flashed under the bars of light.

 “What are you trying to hide Arthur!” From the distance, Mystery barked. “Really?”

 “No! Never!” Arthur vaulted through the tall cage of the turnstile and kept going. “I promise!”

 Lewis crashed into the turnstile and got stuck. “You’re laughing! Whoa… HEY!” Arthur’s wild cackling rang across the dark parking lot. “HEY!”

 Vivi caught up to Lewis and stood, observing. “Um?”

 “A little help!”

 She sighed, and got out a flashlight. “You tried to follow Arthur.” She clicked on the light. “He kinda slipped through the side here. Just come back through, carefully.”

 “OoOOh.” Lewis moved back and shuffled into the opposing slot, where guests were meant to exit. Vivi crammed in with him, and the two nearly got stuck again. However, with some shoving and bickering the two made their way out safely, and caught up to Arthur and Mystery hurtling with reckless abandon.

 Concluding a case was not always so brimming with mirth or effortless, despite how well everything turned out. There had been plenty of cases they walked out on, Failed Cases, too dangerous to continue through to a final conclusion. When they had the chance to celebrate, the team sometimes went all out. Or, such as the case with the Allosaur, it felt better to get back on the road and move on. Sometimes staying too long in one location, one that was not home base, it didn’t rejuvenate like the endless road.

 No doubt though, by the time they arrived – or collided – with the next case, they would be primed and ready to tackle the demands. There would be fascinating creatures, thrilling perils, and challenges the Mystery Skulls crew would meet.

 The night swirled around them, the four racing through the empty parking lot. It was their mission to seek out mysteries, prove what they could or debunk the frauds. Nothing but the passion for work and the ambition to find the truth, and perhaps a steady supply of coffee, fast-food, and junky tabloids.

[upthenorthmountain]

Heartwood - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

I need to make a fic page, will try and do that today, but do I want to draw a picture? Hmm

Anyway here’s chapter two!

Chapter 2

No one noticed when Anna got home, and no one noticed that she didn’t eat any dinner. She went up to her bare, sterile room and she lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling. If anyone came in they would only see my head and my hair, she thought, all in white as I am, on these white sheets. She looked down at herself and pulled her hands up into her sleeves. If I were to die right now then they would just have to carry me out, straighten the counterpane, and everything in the world would keep going the same as it always has. They’d have to tell Elsa, of course, otherwise she might not realise I wasn’t here any more.

A year. One more summer, one more autumn, one more winter, then maybe a slice of spring. And that was all.

She wondered what would happen when she told Elsa.

She’d drag her back to the doctor, that’s what would happen. She’d ask a thousand questions, and she’d insist on that referral, and they’d go to the city; and there would be so many doctors, and so many more white rooms like this one. Anna would be poked and prodded and half her blood would be run through machines; and they’d cut her open and poke around in there as well, and post her into MRI machines and goodness knew what. A year to live, and that’s how she’d spend it.

Maybe...maybe she didn’t have to tell Elsa straight away.

Maybe she didn’t have to tell her at all.

Anna slept very little that night. By the time the sun finally rose, the sunrise filling the white room with some colour for once, she’d made up her mind. On the stroke of 9am, she rang the doctor’s office, and said she’d like to cancel her appointment for next week, please. No, she didn’t want to reschedule. Yes, she’d call back if she changed her mind. Thank you.

And then she went out. It seemed like a good day to buy a red dress.

-----

The dress was perfect. It was a rich, deep, cranberry red; it was fitted at the top with a skirt that swirled beautifully; it showed a little more cleavage than Anna was used to, but still fairly respectable - other people she knew showed a lot more, certainly. None of her shoes went with it, of course. It needed sparkly shoes. Fortunately, the shop sold those too, and a matching necklace.

Anna’s daring didn’t quite extend to wearing the dress at home. She quailed a little at Elsa seeing it, and wasn’t sure she wouldn’t end up changing, and then when she got home the dress - and shoes, and necklace - would have disappeared. But she had a charity tea this afternoon, and her outfit was perfectly appropriate. Elsa wouldn’t be there, and no one else would think anything of it.

She changed quickly in the Ladies in the reception of the hotel, and on a whim, brushed her hair down too. Her hair waved naturally, and usually had to be pulled back to keep it neat - but today she didn’t feel like looking neat. She pinned a little of it back from her face and peered at herself in the mirror. She hadn’t brought any make-up, and her freckles were showing something awful - but nothing she could do about it now.

The tea was taking place in the main ballroom. Anna gave her ticket to the staff member at the door, took a deep breath, and went in.

-----

She did get a few odd glances. She suspected a few acquaintances didn’t recognise her immediately. Anna took a drink and said a few hellos, then she stood to one side and looked around.

It suddenly struck her how pointless this all was. No one wants to be here, she thought. They’d all rather be at home or on the golf course or conducting their tedious extra-marital affairs, but it’s for charity so here they are. Imagine how much better the charity would do if they all just donated the same amount but no one had to book the room or buy the drink or arrange for the tiny food. Anna snagged what she suspected was some kind of deconstructed cucumber sandwich from a tray. It was actually quite good. If this is an afternoon tea, though, surely there should be cake?

She took another miniscule sandwich and wandered over to the staff member who seemed to be overseeing the waiting staff. “Excuse me,” she asked him, “Is there any cake?”

“Cake?”

“Mm. It’s not a criticism, I was just wondering. These are very good, by the way.”

“Thank you. There will be a selection of fancy cakes and meringues served after the speech from the charity representative.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Anna paused. Did she want to listen to a speech? Was that really how she wanted to spend her hours on Earth, that were apparently very precious?

“D’you think I could get a cake to go?” she said. “I have to leave now. Medical reasons.”

The man hesitated, then he shrugged and disappeared towards the kitchen. Anna surveyed the room again - there was no one here she actually, actively wanted to talk to - and thought about what she could do instead. She could go anywhere. The thought was thrilling but also a little terrifying.

She remembered meeting Mrs Davies yesterday. Mrs Davies - Lillian - had been her Science teacher, back when she had gone to the local secondary school (her father hadn’t really approved of private education, he thought it gave the wrong mindset. Her sister did approve of it, or maybe she just approved of paying money to make Anna someone else’s problem, so she’d done her A-levels at a boarding school where she’d known no one and no one wanted to be friends with the girl who cried all the time). Mrs Davies - Lillian - had been an excellent teacher, friendly and enthusiastic and full of a passion for Science and nature. Anna was not at all surprised to find her spending her retirement engaging in a little light environmental protest. She’d also been Anna’s Girl Guide leader, and taken her camping a couple of times when she was twelve or thirteen. Oh, she’d love to see her again, and have a proper chat.

She knew exactly where Bennett’s Field was. She remembered, when she was a little girl, walking down there with her father. The footpath ran down the side of the field, and then skirted the edge of the woods. You had to stay on the footpath as far as the old oak tree, because the land on either side belonged to someone else, but the corner of the field and a small patch of the woods belonged to her father.

The memory stopped her short. Yes. It belonged to him. At some point when the farmland had been chopped up and parts of it sold, a small amount of the field and a corner of the woods had been bundled in with some other land her father had bought to develop. She thought so, anyway. She couldn’t see how it would have been sold, unless the developers of the field had bought it - there was no reason anyone would have told Anna about that.

She ducked out of the room and leant against the corridor wall. Imagine if it was still theirs - she would gladly, happily let the protestors stay on their corner of the field, make whatever observations they needed to in their corner of the woods. How did she find out? 

Anna knew where her lawyer’s office was. She’d heard her parents’ wills being read there, and she’d been there on a handful of other occasions since she came of age, to sign odd documents and make her own will at Elsa’s insistence. It was only four’o’clock. She ran down outside and found a taxi.

-----

Mr Owens was very obliging, and agreed to see her, despite the short notice. Anna suspected he might have some sympathies with the bats; very soon the pair of them were looking at the map, and Anna was thrilled to see that she was correct.

“I think someone used to live there, many years ago,” Mr Owens said. “Although there’s no building there now, and you’d never get planning permission - the only access is along the public footpath, no utilities. So it’s not worth anything.”

“I don’t want to live there,” Anna said, though she did, a little. “But I could camp there if I wanted, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, of course.”

“With some friends, maybe.”

“If you liked. Of course, if the wood does become a Site of Special Scientific Interest, that would affect you, too.”

“That would be alright.” Anna traced the outline of the little patch of land on the map. “And if they build on the rest of the field?”

“Then they might give you access, but maybe not. They tried to buy this land, as you know,” he said.

“I didn’t, no.”

“Your sister didn’t tell you? They weren’t willing to pay what she was asking. To be quite honest, I advised her to take whatever she could get, they were the only people who might have given you anything for it. Like I said, it’s worthless.”

“Unless you’re a bat,” Anna said absently. Had Elsa been being greedy, or had she just not wanted to sell?

“Well, I suppose that’s true.”

“Can I have a copy of this map, please?”

“You can take that one, if you like. Was there anything else?”

“No, that was all. Thank you so much for seeing me.”

“No problem at all, Miss Rendell. I’m glad I could help.”

-----

“I might go away for a few days,” Anna announced over breakfast the next morning.

Elsa looked up from her paper. “Really?” she said. 

“Mmhm.”

“To where? With whom?”

“Um, you know I used to be in Guides? My old Guide leader invited me to go camping with her and some friends.” Anna buttered her toast without looking up. “I’ll have to get some camping things but there’s that shop on the retail park, isn’t there? I’ll run over there this morning.”

“Camping?” Elsa looked horrified. “Why would you want to do that?”

Anna shrugged. “Felt like it. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Elsa pulled a face. “I don’t think you’ll enjoy that at all, Anna. Camping! In a tent?”

“If I remember right, that’s how it goes.” Anna looked up. “If I don’t like it, I’ll come back. It’s not far.”

“How long for?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have my phone.”

“And where will you charge it?”

“I’ll get a solar charger.”

“And where exactly are you going?”

“Um. Bennett’s Field.”

Elsa dropped her paper. “Not that - Anna! You know they’re squatting illegally. That’s not camping, it’s a protest. What will you do if the police get involved?”

“Mm. But, if they moved over a bit to the north - and I was there - it wouldn’t be illegal, as such, would it.”

Elsa was quiet for a while, watching her sister’s face. Then she said, “I didn’t know you knew about that land.”

“Dad told me.  A long time ago.”

“You don’t have to actually stay with them. You could just give them permission, if that’s what you want. And stay here.”

“I think I’d like to go, thanks.”

Elsa looked at her again, for a long moment, then she picked up her newspaper. “As you wish.”

Anna took a big bite of her toast. That had been easier than she expected.

[of-another-broken-heart]

Having a really weird day. 

It’s a weird one!

I’m all over the place.

Or it feels like it.

Mostly I’m just. Ricocheting around this one expansive building in my dumb sprawling brain labyrinth - the one about healthcare. 

Trying to hunt down a new PCP.

Trying to find out HOW to hunt down a new PCP without wasting tons of time. I need one that isn’t going to do like my last team did. I need people who won’t fall for the siren lure of ingrained socially-supported medical fatphobia at the expense of the Hippocratic Oath. I need a healthcare team that actually provides care. I need queer acceptance. I need my concerns to be taken with seriousness and respect - and I need a doctor who won’t just handwave everything away because it’s quicker and easier to chalk it up to some other part of my very messy medical situation. I need a professional who will do their due diligence, and run the diagnostics, and make decisions based on results and data - not their personal mythical psychic assumption senses.  I need to know these things BEFORE wasting time and effort and energy and money on an appointment.  And nearly none of this is available information. Doctors are under no social pressure or obligation to make this sort of information publicly available. And “customer reviews” are rare and unreliable. The greatest failures result in death, and those people can’t very well complain, can they? The next greatest failures result in defeat and exhaustion - and those aren’t conditions conducive to leaving reviews, either. Survival, first and foremost.  I’m a perfect example of that.  Could I try to leave reviews about my last doctor in every corner I can find online that will grant me the space? Yes, I could. Am I going to? No. I don’t have the time or energy. 

Stressing about a dentist. Not thinking about the dentist. So much fucking trauma oh my god just don’t think about it. But these broken teeth though. I need a dentist.  How bad will it all actually be?  It’ll be bad. It’ll be worse than I’m prepared to handle. Just like last time. I’d love to be able to smile again. I’d love to have reasons to smile, first, of course. But it’d be nice not to be greeted by chipped holes and visible dark grey fillings that look and feel worse than the “cavities” they supposedly replaced.  It would also be nice if my jaw wasn’t lopsided. If my teeth lined up, instead of my bottom jaw being ~4mm off center. It didn’t used to be that bad. It was always a little off - the way some of my bottom teeth grew in as a kid. Was never severe enough to merit braces. Or maybe we just couldn’t afford braces. But then after some cavities and breaking teeth and botched cavity fillings that completely changed the topography of my bite... my jaw has gradually resettled, and it has done so. To the left.  But mostly I need my wisdom teeth. Fixed. Removed. I don’t know if they can be salvaged. I thought I was okay with losing them all, but the more I’ve thought about it, and thought about how my jaw has already shifted, the more scared I am that fully removing them will make it all worse. I have the space for them. If they’re removed, I’m just going to have... weird empty space?? And no teeth there for when I’m chewing??  Teeth are so stupid. I hate them. I need them. 

Mental health. Hahahaha. But for real. A psych who won’t just try to shove prozac on me. One who will give me the time of day to go through diagnosis criteria for things beyond the Big D. Sure my depression is bad, and it’s at the front of my miserable mental marching band, but my anxiety has got to the point where I’ve got painful physical symptoms, and my un-diagnosed/untreated adhd sure isn’t making any of that easier. Maybe I could finally get a lucky break with medication/treatment for one of those, and actually get some relief. Especially with the anxiety and adhd. I feel like there might be less total drugs available? So less total experimentation possible?? Maybe just wishful thinking...  And... therapy? Actual therapy??? Maybe??? I’m jaded as cynical as fuck and I know a lot of methods of therapy won’t work for me BECAUSE of how my particular pudding cup of brain fuck is mis-wired - but I’d love help. I want and need help. But it has to actually BE help. “Sometimes just talking it out helps” NOPE. N-O-P-E. I’m long past that point, honey darling dear!! I need actionable help! Techniques, challenges, tools - not just a sympathetic ear. Believe it or not, I’ve got that covered! Me, myself, and I - oh, we talk. We talk PLENTY. Relentlessly, endlessly, brutally - it’s covered. 

I learned what city he lives in.  I looked it up.  I could be there in 14 hours. It would take about $130 in gas, though. One-way.  It’s just slightly further than Manning - the place I used to stop overnight on my FL trips. It’s 120 miles further west. That’s it. A handful of hours between the two places.  It’s a fairly small city. Low cost of living. Low minimum wage, as a result - matches federal. It’s right against the state border. Hell, it might technically span into the adjoining state.  It has a surprising amount of golf course land. Population is not majority-white.  I don’t want to overdo this. But I can’t help how badly I want to know things when I’m interested. When I care.  My heart hurts. I hate that I’m like this. 

I wanted to sleep more. I’ve been up for about 4 hours. Before that, I slept for maybe 3? And before that I was up for... 5? And before that, I was in bed most of yesterday, but it was just wishing I was sleeping for hours and hours and hours, and only actually being asleep for about 2. 

I ate leftovers for dinner, instead of what was made. I had reheated pasta with meat sauce and veggies, instead of a plain breaded chicken patty and More Fucking Potatoes (pierogies). I think my brother ate what I didn’t. Which is fine. No leftovers to juggle. No food wasted.  I ate some of sister’s culinary leftovers for breakfast. Some risotto. Not sure exactly what kind. Apparently it came home with shrimp - mom ate those. I don’t know if I’ve had risotto before. It was good, but I took too much and it was tasting extra salty before I tapped out.  I made a cup of coffee again, too. I’m beginning to see the caffeine/adhd stability correlation in myself. Don’t know how to feel about that. 

I need to double-drive again today. Pick sister up. Drop sister off.  I wanted to try to shop a bit yesterday, but I was way too tired. I was also supposed to have a friend help me tackle some of the doctor-hunting yesterday, too. But... too tired. 

It’s 10 AM. I’ve got 2.5 hours until I need to drive.  I’m restless. I’m tired.  I probably can’t sleep but I’m going to try I guess. Or just sit here stalling out for 150 straight minutes until I have to go. idk.

[profoundkittymaker]

There Once Was a Game Called Ribbit King

I once stumbled across a long-forgotten piece of history from the early 2000's called Ribbit King. Released on the Nintendo Gamecube in 2003 in Japan, and 2004 in the west, Ribbit King received mixed reviews and little attention overall. It was published by Bandai, but the studios that developed it, Infinity and Jamsworks, seem to have faded into obscurity, and I've found little to no information about them.

Anyways, Ribbit King is weird. Admittedly, I've only had the opportunity to play a small amount of it, but it was in a multiplayer session, which seemed to be one of the game's focuses. It was a journey, to be honest. First, you would choose which planet to play on. Apparently the game had a space theme of some kind. Ribbetopia was the default stage, and one of the few we could choose at the time. A vibrant, grassy area with palm trees and water, seems normal enough right? Next, we had to choose our playable characters, which included some eccentric choices such as a weird alien kid with antennae, a panda in a caveman’s loincloth, a sentient picnic basket, and... this guy.

He’s the current reigning Frolf champion, apparently. Oh, yeah, this game is about a sport called Frolf. It’s like golf with frogs. Of course, we got to choose from various specimens of frogs to accompany our characters, as well. Each character had a frog to match it, but you could mix and match if you’d like. After choosing from a long list of bizarre power-up items to give to our characters, we were finally thrown into our first match of Frolf. And almost immediately, the confusion set in.

We took turns hitting our frogs with mallets, causing them to jump very high, imitating a swung golf ball until the frogs hit the ground, after which the frogs would take several consecutive hops forward. Once they hit the ground, it would only become more chaotic, as they interacted with various objects on the courses, which were always of the strange variety. Ribbetopia seemed to be the most simple and ordinary stage, but on some courses your frog would be carried by these guys who would wiggle around in a long path on some parts of the course. 

What are “these guys” exactly? We would love to know. Also note the large wooly mammoth in the background, who would attack your frog if it happened to land nearby. All in all, our frogs were able to interact with many things, one of the most recurring of which was airborne flies that the frogs would always jump towards to consume if they were in range. When our frogs landed in water, they would swim until they got to land.

While a course littered with events to interact with might seem like the makings of a game with the potential to be a fun and strategic multiplayer experience. However, in practice Ribbit King is astoundingly chaotic, and we found ourselves at the whims of the game, unable to predict what was going to happen after our frogs hit the ground.

On several occasions, they would be mauled by alien snakes, only to get spat out in a different direction. Every game was impossible to predict. On one match, I got a miraculous hole-in-one where my frog was carried to the end of the course by the objects in the stage. I did not plan this, I did not calculate this. It just kind of happened as we watched on in awe. During another match, one of the players fell asleep, which may speak to how little involvement the players’ actions really have in the game’s outcomes—or perhaps he is just narcoleptic. Most likely, it was a mix of both.

The ultimate end goal of the stage was a giant floating diamond with a large hole underneath. The diamond, strongly resembling a Chaos Emerald from the Sonic the Hedgehog series, perhaps had some sort of story context, but I could not tell you anything about that. However, I can tell you that trying to get out frogs to land in the hole was often rather difficult. While it was a generously sized goal compared to Frolf’s sister sport of golf, the frogs would take large hops after they hit the ground, often leaping over the hole entirely.

Ribbit King seemed to have a variety of quirky stages, but I—regretfully—only had the opportunity to try the three that were unlocked at the start. Other than the aforementioned Ribbetopia, there was Planet Lavatron, the lava-themed stage, and the hazardous, icy gauntlet known as Planet Frosticle.

Planet Frosticle is where things really got dicey for us, as on nearly every hit our frogs would slide across the stage, making it even more difficult to predict just where they would end up. We had already descended to madness in Ribbetopia, but in Planet Frosticle I often found myself bouncing off spider webs weaved above precariously placed holes in the ice, or caught up in giant cyclops twisters. On the ground in Planet Frosticle, there were often these circular boards that resembled that of Skee-Ball, and you would earn some points depending on where your frog landed on the board.

In fact, interacting with literally anything on the course would affect your point total—unlike golf, Frolf is not a simple game of whoever reaches the goal first. The points you earn over the several holes that a single game of Frolf spans can make or break whether you emerge victorious. However, the points earned from reaching the goal in less turns are not an insignificant amount, so it remains the primary objective.

Perhaps the most disappointing part of Ribbit King was when each game finally reached its end. Mind you, not because we were sad it was over, or because we were having too much fun. After the game has reached his conclusion, a screen will flash of the winner’s character celebrating their victory. Then, one of the few voiced lines of audio in the entire game will play.

“The winner is... this character!”

Yes, “this character.” That audio plays no matter who wins. They did not even record separate audio to identify the character that won the match.

Frolf is a game with many intricacies and eccentric characters, and each and every match is truly a spectacle to behold. It’s definitely a unique and impactful experience playing Ribbit King for the first time. Your mileage may vary with each subsequent experience, however.

However, if you are ever willing to try out a very fun title for the Nintendo Gamecube where cute and quirky characters play golf together in colorful settings, I recommend you give Mario Golf: Toadstool Tour a try.

[lesbiansforboromir]

I am really curious what you think Boromir would make of the show. I think the soulmate AU is making me imagine Boromir meeting the Thain and how that would go. Like and just generally how the Camelot meets Regency Era vibe goes down? IDK TL;DR do u have feels abt Boromir meeting Pippin's parents/exploring the Shire in general? :)

I’m such a fool, there IS no topic I won’t have too much to say about- anyway to begin with... the concept of Boromir first hearing of the Shire and THEN seeing it lots later after he’s gotten all these second hand accounts is very important to me. Perhaps best explained by the instance of Boromir asking Pippin about his family and him hearing ‘Well I’m a Took you see, we’ve lived in the Great Smials for generations and we’ve always held the office of Thain of the Shire. My Da’, Paladin Took the second, he’s the Thain at the moment.”

And Boromir, hearing Thain and thinking ‘oh Thane, like the Thanes of Rohan, lords of fiefs and fielding armies and such’, creates a complete picture in his mind of a proper lordly princely fellow but just smaller. And then he meets Paladin Took who ties his neckerchief in a heart bow about his collar and conducts what Boromir would have considered a diplomatic meeting alike to a luncheon party. He asks Boromir if he’s a sporting man. Boromir has no idea how to answer that. He leaves utterly perplexed and with a golf club he didn’t know how to refuse. Pippin absolutely knew this would happen and purposefully did the LEAST he could to prepare his expectations. 

So in essentials Boromir just did not at all think about what the Shire would be like when Merry and Pippin invited him. At the time he has a lot on his mind and whilst he’s asked them about it quite a bit and listened with interest, a lot of what they say goes through filters of his own experiences and assumptions. When they say their homes are all holes in hills, he just... doesn’t take it all that literally. When they say they don’t really have cities, he just assumes they mean they aren’t as big as his own. The sheer lack of vertical real estate in the Shire is somehow one of the first things Boromir finds truly... not disturbing but it keeps nagging at him. Space is always a concern in Minas Tirith these days, but the Shire is just rolls and rolls of hills and valleys, much uninhabited or given up to fields or pastures. Everyone has a garden, even the poorer folks. It seems understandable for a country based people but Boromir would always assume that meant there WAS a city somewhere else. But no! Tuckborough is barely a town in his estimation. Michel Delving too! 

And truly, their political structure really throws him for like... A WHILE. Every now and then he’ll just give up on trying to understand what the Thain does vs what the Master of Buckland does vs what the Mayor does, only to pick it back up again when some new piece of information rises to the fore. “Wait- if the Mayor is the head of the Watch, which- I kNOW to be the only thing close to a military that you have- then- Isn’t the Thain your military leader?” “Oh no, he’s just the protector of the westfarthing.” “What... how is that different” “Well he protects us.” “You mean from trespassers??” “Oh no the Bounders do that and they’re part of the watch.” “SO WHAT DOES THE THAIN DO?” “He protects us! :)” 

It’s difficult for him to grasp because the concept of these things being kind of grey and part of ancient systems that’ve had no real need for maintenance just does not compute. He’d say that the Shire was shoddily run, except it obviously isn’t, things work out pretty well, they have a post office, clear laws of land and succession, proper manners of dispute settling, no one’s really going hungry and most folk can feed themselves and their massive families. It doesn’t help that he WANTS the Thain (as the hereditary position) to be the general master of all, since that’s the system he’s most comfortable with. “Oh no the mayor does more than the Thain I’d say.” “But the Mayor is elected.” “Yes.” “And you still trust them to do what’s right?” “Of course!” “But if a new mayor is elected every seven years, couldn’t someone just bribe folk to vote for him?” “Now why would someone want to do that?” Hobbits have a concept of power that is just so foreign to Boromir that he keeps missing the point in these conversations. 

I went off on a tangent- there never comes a point where Boromir thoroughly understands hobbit life. But there is a point during his long visit where it becomes more of a funny jesting conversation topic. Because he realises he doesn’t necessarily need to understand it all in order to do diplomacy and business with the Shire and Gondor. Realistically Aragorn is already making inroads into rebuilding Arnor by now, so it’ll be his job to do most of the work on that end. At some point Boromir decides to enjoy this visit to his friend’s homeland and that’s the point where he really starts noticing the stuff he’s more interested in. Like he gets a massive kick out of how gossipy Hobbits are. Everyone’s surprised by how well he slips into happy warm pub conversations. He’s so taken by the gardening fever that takes any hobbit when their personal area of expertise is mentioned that he not only learns a great deal about it but in fact starts his own garden when he gets home. 

He doesn’t come away with any ideas of which system is better ect ect, mainly because the idea that Gondor’s whole system might need rethinking doesn’t even enter his wildest DREAMS (can you all see how he might not be the best suited to a Stewardship). But he develops a healthy amount of respect and, more importantly, a deep affection for the shire that keeps him coming back years afterwards.