#like u feel the cold in the centre of your eyeballs

[vhstown]

can we have more "cold reader warm hobie" fics it is so unbelievably cold in the uk right now im literally burning calories from shivering

[nukyster-blog]

Changing Course Chapter 28)Broken

.-.-.

Utstott grew rapidly. For the first few days, Ivar managed to hide the raven chick inside the pocket of his tunic. But now that the hatchling received proper food and care, the little thing grew in size and had a massive opinion; it no longer allowed Ivar to shove him into his pocket. It pecked and cawed every time Ivar’s fingers brushed over the hem of his tunic, puffing up his humble amount of feathers. 

“Fine, be stomped to death, scrawny excuse for a chicken!”, Ivar badmouthed Utstott, who’d fiercely dug his beak into Ivar’s thumb. The little shit managed to draw blood and received an aggravated wave from Ivar. Utstott tumbled down onto his tiny arse and cawed disapprovingly.

Ivar threw a meaningful glance at Piglet, who failed miserably at  keeping her snigger hidden. 

The Giant had unchained Ivar shortly  before, and Ivar had barely managed to hide the hatchling underneath a pile of hay, coughing  excessively loud to mask the sound of Utstott’s caws of disapproval.  

It had earned Ivar two iron fists smashing in between his shoulder blades, along with a shove towards the door; the Giant didn’t want him slacking. 

“You take care of that pain in the ass”, Ivar half ordered, half asked Piglet. The slave maiden made a deep bow as an answer and used her broom to sweep Utstott to the furthest corner of the shed. 

“Make sure the calves don’t crush him”, Ivar added before crawling out of the doorway. 

His duty still remained the same, scrubbing the staircase. It was the most pointless and exhausting task possible; for every step he mopped, a hundred dirty feet and muddy boots defiled it before the end of the day.

But, like the bloody bear of Kattegat, Ivar would scrape his palms raw and routinely work his way up to the steps of the entrance. 

Then again, he was out in the sun, catching a breath of fresh air,  and he’d managed to collect a small log he could use for carving later. Life could be much worse; yet it bothered him how grateful he’d become for such basic aspects in life. He used to literally eat from a golden bowl and now his day was considered an excellent one if meat was on the menu. After winter, his heart truly beat faster every time the Giant would unshackle him and allowed him to slave his way through degrading and pointless tasks. 

He’d evolved into a proper dog, Ivar dog with muzzle, as Piglet put it. 

How much time had passed since his arrival in de Haar? Since his father promised him greatness and a meaningful death? Of course he’d known he’d never return from England, he’d settled with drowning at sea. At least he’d be right beside a Legend, a King, a father. 

Oh, sweet bliss, if only he’d died during that storm. Then he’d never know how Ragnar Lothbrok’s suicide mission only included him for his unfailing and inescapable affliction; being born a cripple. He’d just been a tool, a simple pawn to deliver a message to his worthy brothers. 

And he even failed at that. At night, that was one of the thoughts that kept gnawing holes into his mind; what if he escaped de Haar? Then what? Crawl his way to the closest dock and head home like a cowardly dog, muzzled, beaten, marked, and damaged? 

With his luck, he had a better chance at swimming home, because how was he going to afford the crossing? 

And what awaited him at home? Shame, mainly and mostly, shame. He’d served Christians, in order to survive. He’d slept between pigs, cattle, shit and Piglet. He’d done nothing memorable aside from enduring a bloody flogging. 

What would his brother’s think of him, if he’d told him how he cleaned the enemies chamber pots? How he allowed the entire population of de Haar to take a piss at him? 

The worst thing was, by now he’d been so conditioned into his new role, he numbly did what was expected of him. Without a fight, a curse; defiance had literally been beaten out of him. A shadow casted over him, expecting the Giant to ruffle him up, Ivar flinched back before glancing up. 

Ivar couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“God zij met u,” were gentle words spoken by the fair-maiden. A breeze whispered past, teasing the blonde strands of her hair. Although her posture regained its grace, her beauty still one to match; the light had been robbed from her eyes. 

Her sudden presence overwhelmed Ivar and it showed; a blush scorching his cheeks, setting his face on fire. Full of shame, he lowered his gaze and waited for her unblemished ankle boots to pass. 

By the Gods, she must have turned into flawless marble, because she was not moving an inch. Now if it was up to Ivar, he’d remain ignoring her presence until the day he died. But she was standing on the spot he needed to clean and if the Giant caught him neglecting or pausing his task, the fair-maiden would witness him being beat. 

Leaning into  his embarrassment was inevitable. Ivar felt awkward and reticent, yet managed to glance up. 

Her expression lacked security too, and there was that brokenness again. The longing, the burning expectation of a sign, of something good. 

Did she honestly still believe that the rumours of his ‘Martyrdom’ were true? Months had passed since the forty lashes, if he’d been anything other than human he’d surely have allowed a miracle to happen. One that set flames to the highest towers of De Haar. A plague to strike anyone that ever dared to harm him; causing puss filled blisters to scar their faces, like the whippings that had scarred his back and shoulder blades. 

But no, no miracle in the form of sickness or fire had occurred. His life still wasted away, while hers had worsened by marriage. He did not have anything to offer her, and he wished he had the words to tell her that.

There was no escape, from neither of their lives. He could not save her from Ludolf’s marital ties. He could not save her from being raped and abused, because Ludolf was her husband, the young ruler of de Haar. 

The Giant must have smelled his cold sweat, like a bloodhound, the brute lumbered across the cobble-stoned centre in a direct line towards Ivar and the fair-maiden. 

Both eyes of the youngsters locked in a shared understanding until Ivar broke it off. Well, was forced to break it off. A vicious yank on his hair forced him to hunch forward, causing him to tap over his bucket. The wooden tool tumbled down the stairs, splashing water all over the place. Ivar didn’t even register, pain scorched his scalp as the Giant picked him up by his hair. 

Instinctively, he clung both his hands around the thick wrist of the Giant, as the brute pulled him up to eye-level. 

Brandishing his fist in front of Ivar, the Giant diminished the space between them. Almost nose to nose, the bastard started roaring in his face; the stench of tooth rot and decay overwhelming. 

Instead of ramming his fist into Ivar’s face, the Giant pushed him down the steps. 

Every muscle in Ivar’s body knotted up as his arse hit the first step, spinning he tumbled down the rest of the steps, hitting the back of his head against the bucket and his teeth grazing mud. 

The Giant took his time to walk down and kicked the bucket across the cobble-stoned centre. He didn’t need to shout his order, Ivar knew he was burdened to repeat his entire task again. 

The cloth landed on the back of his head and the Giant walked off.

  It made Ivar feel so small and insignificant, yet he picked himself up and started crawling towards the bucket. The fair-maiden luckily had disappeared, hopefully she now knew better and would stay far away. 

.-.-.

“What did you do?” Piglet ranted the moment the Giant locked the door. Apparently, his little downfall had been the talk of the town. 

“Nothing”, Ivar snapped back, wishing that would be the last word of it. 

Of course it wasn’t, Piglet pressed both her palms into her waist and glared down at him. 

“She’s trouble! Won’t last long! I’m not going to heal your back again!” She threatened. 

This was fuel to Ivar’s simmering fire: “I bled for you, not for her”, he reminded her firmly as he rose up to his knees to at least have a shot of being at eye-level with her, “don’t tell me what I can do and can’t do, or you might wake up while I ram a nail in your eyeball!”. To give his threat more weight he thrust his fist forwards, aiming at her face. Their distance was too great by far to even touch the tip of her nose, but his gesture made Piglet sway on her feet. 

She must have seen that thing in his eyes; what his mother called rage and she called the Djinn. 

“Thick-head”, she announced, and fled up the attic, allowing Ivar to unload on his own. His knuckles grew white from clenching his fists too hard, his teeth gritted from the effort to remain silent. His face was red from suppressed rage, and he hunched forward. It was as if a wildfire burned his insides, slicing and scorching his consciousness away. He blacked out, saw red and when he came to, Piglet sat right in front of him. 

His breathing was out of control, fists clenching and unclenching, he noticed stug material being stuck between his teeth. The potato bags from around his knees and legs lay torn and shredded across his box. He choked, inwardly he suffocated. The beatings, the ridicule, the overall indifference for his pain, the absolute monstrosities he’d been through all throughout his life sparked up from every corner of his mind. Memories, old and new, of being unworthy of being alive, unworthy of being a person, shattered in a frenzy. 

At a loss for words, unable to express himself, Ivar broke down. He fought it with every fiber of his being, but he wept. Hating his physical reaction he buried his face into his hands and hated, absolutely hated himself for expressing such weakness, in such an unmasculine way, in front of another person. 

If the Gods would have any mercy, they’d allow him to crawl down a dark hole and never come out. Screwing his eyes shut, Ivar furiously banged his fists into the ground, stirring up the last bit of his anger. It was his last resort to regain some dignity, unleashing one more time and destroying everything his hands and teeth could get a grip off. 

Piglet’s touch was so gentle and hesitant, Ivar swore he’d made it up. But when he opened his eyes wide and still on the verge of madness, the slave maiden wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. She did not speak, only held him close. Her silence didn’t feel empty, rather, it enveloped him and allowed him to bear his grief and choke through his tears and pain. Despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressing against his. 

Although he wished to fight it, he sank into the warmth of her simple gesture. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, in return, Piglet carefully twined hers around his lower back.

Since he’d taken the path of no return, he allowed himself to find safety in the crook of her neck. 

“They broke me, Piglet. I’m broken”, the grunt that escaped the back of his throat was soft and hoarse.  

“No, not broken Ivar,” she whispered into his hair, “damaged. But damage heals”. 

For some reason, her words planted back a seed of hope, at least to get through another night and another day.  

.-.-.

A/N: So, did I have any kind of storyline for this chapter. No, this was a total freefall. Lightly inspired by episode ‘The Outsider’ (see Ivar rant on my tumblr). Halfway I thought ‘kay I’ve physically screwed him up a dozen times, why not break him down mentally. Oh and let's make him cry, yet try to keep him in character’. Tada… this happened. Loved writing it! First the total overload of frustrations and then the breakdown. Eager to read your thoughts/opinions, 

Xoxoxox Nukyster The kickass beta: @sarahh-jane The tagged ones:@youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax @saldelys​ @shannygoatgruff@pieces-by-me@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa@readsalot73@lauraan182 @conaionaru@sarahh-jane@peachybonelessIf you’d liked to be tagged, please let me know:)

[amnoartist]

Juiced | Chapter 2

Juiced

Written & edited by Amnoartist95

Chapter 2: Monkey-faced

Ford Avenue was a seedy alley almost nobody even dared to pass through, even if it was a handy shortcut. Those who did go there were those who one would expect: people sought a place hidden from view to engage in immoral acts. In Natalie’s case, drug dealers selling their valued products to willing customers. There were spent needles often strewn across the paving, formerly filled with God knows what. Not that the behemoth brunette cared much about that sort of thing. She just needed her own fix.

The car bucked to one side as she climbed out of it, melon-sized, vein-caked calf first, the duffle bag slung over her capped shoulder next. She’d just come out of the trippy so-called high experienced earlier and in that time her mass that shrunken somewhat. She was still bigger than most Mr Olympia’s, but Natalie hated the concept of small. She cut through the alleyway at a brisk pace, passing the row of trashcans and aforementioned spent needles until coming to the old torn posters of yesteryear. Her sweat-stained outfit from the earlier workout still clung to the gargantuan woman’s frame, though it had fallen victim to more rips and tears, consequently revealing more bulging, vein-riddled flesh.

She came to a halt at the scuff of her shoe just as a cigarette was lit before her in the shadow-engulfed distance. Natalie’s impatience burned brightly; she tossed the bag to the ground and kicked it into the darkness, calf rippling with the motion. “There’s the money. You know me, so there’s no need to count it.”

As the cigarette burned, a figure revealed itself from the shadow; Paul, The Voice’s top peddler. Natalie often confided in Paul for her stash of roids, never having met The Voice face-to-face. Not much was known about the faceless drug tycoon, other than the fact he was filthy rich from his sales. Paul was pretty much the polar opposite of Natalie; scraggy and dishevelled draped in a grey hooded tracksuit and white trainers.

“Things are a little different today, Nat.” He dropped the cigarette to the ground and stamped on it before pulling a clear polythene bag from his pocket. Typically he would provide the girl with a bag of ready-filled syringes – eight, to be precise – but things, as he said, were different. Curiosity gripped Natalie after hearing Paul’s words, ushering her to venture closer to him. She never got this close to him before; in most instances, she would give the money into the darkness, he would then place the stash somewhere within arm’s reach for Natalie to grab while taking that moment to disappear again.

Now close enough to see his face in all its scrawny and malnourished unpleasantness, Natalie snatched the bag from Paul like a falcon does its prey and turned away from him to inspect the contents privately, her wall of back beef so wide, his eyes were engulfed by it. She rummaged through the bag and pulled out the contents with a befuddled glower. In the months she’d been dealing with Paul, Natalie - as previously revealed – purchased syringes of the chemical she pretty much survived on. But right now—

“What the fuck is this?” She turned back to Paul holding what seemed to be a confectionary between her thumb and index finger. The sweet in question was yellow in colour and shaped like a monkey’s face. It was humorous in a way, but hardly professional. “Is this some kind of joke, Paul?” She held back the chemically-induced rage building within, hoping he had a perfectly good reason why she had a sweetie in her hand.

“It’s a different delivery system, Nat.” Paul and The Voice both knew she was still somewhat a rookie in regards to how was best to shoot up. Roid injections were a thing of the past, and needles were easy to spot compared to things that look like sweets. The face-shaped confectionaries weren’t even pills, but genuine candies that offered the same results as the injections did. “You’ll be chomping on these sweets from now on. The results are the same; same capped size increase and growth rate per sweet. Doesn't show up on drug tests either so you could compete using this shit if you wanted.”

Natalie examined the sweet curiously. What she held in her hand was a way to grow as big as she wanted without her mother finding out. But that didn’t necessarily mean the arguments they had would come to an end. “Any side effects?”

“We’re working out the standard kinks commonly associated with roids, but they’re good enough to use.” Paul watched Natalie move the sweet around in her hand, inspecting it from just about every angle; it was thick and looked sugary, just like the mini love hearts did. It went without saying she was tempted to take at least one right there and then. Paul could see that stern determination in her gaze. “Taste like banana too, would you believe it. Or so I’m told.”

Natalie was just about to enact her intention when her mobile buzzed, bringing her plans to a sudden halt. Groaning with irritation, she pulled her mobile free from her pocket and read the text from her mother.

Where R U. Call me

. God knows what she wanted now, but she wasn’t going to get in the way of Natalie’s want to beef up more and more. Without so much as a second thought, she downed the sweet in one go, caring not to carefully chew on it, her beefy throat flexing inward with the swallow. And there it was - that banana flavour Paul mentioned, at the tip of her tongue.

Paul watched it transpire in a matter of seconds; one moment he was talking about the sweet tasting like banana, the next he was watching Natalie grow before him. It was amazing how her sports bra and shorts all managed to stay in place, even after suffering rips and tears from her previous spurt of growth. The shudder she experienced forced her to arch back somewhat as pulsing veins rose to the surface of her skin; arm, leg, abdominal and back veins all pulsing in sync with the growth from just the one sweet. A slight layer of veins crawled to the edge of her chin before receding alongside the rest of her freakish vascularity.

“Woah!” It was no surprise Natalie felt the rush hit her so quickly. She pulled into a crab flex to boast her new size, resulting in a vast shadow engulfing the impressed Paul. He knew all those freakish veins would’ve popped up in the now-larger Natalie’s frame and visage, given that was just a symptom of her body getting used to the new delivery method. Continuing her bragging, she turned her back to Paul again to do calf raises, feeling the thicker beef strain and pull towards her skin.

“Feels good, don’t it?” Paul smiled.

Another text message came through, prompting the brunette to stop showing off. She didn’t want to and it annoyed her; rage-fuelled the veins in her neck to jut out freakishly as she read the newly received message.

Get home now

. Rolling her eyes, Natalie stashed her mobile back into her pocket, snatched her bag from the edge of the darkness and proceeded to walk back to her car. “Thanks for the shit. See you next week.”

Paul didn’t say a word. Instead, he just watched Natalie strut, eyeballing her torn shorts that revealed enough striated glute meat to give him a surprising boner.

///

“Jesus, I didn’t think it would be this bad when you described it.” Marie opened the sewing kit with concern. It was a little over fifteen minutes earlier she got the text from Peyton that she got hit. ‘Hit’ being the rather broad term. She came back with an eye black as night, a cut brow and broken arm - that much was certain. “Hold still.”

Peyton winced. She never expected the needle to be that sharp. The punch she was the victim of felt blunter. Even so, she was lucky her mother was a nurse. The eighteen-year-old jerked slightly as Marie pulled the stitching into place, feeling her skin pull closer bit by bit.

The front door opened, revealing Natalie in all her surging glory, shorts and bra literally moments from bursting off. One miscalculated breath or sudden flex from any of her muscles would be enough to render her naked. She wouldn’t have minded being laid bare, honestly, but—

“Where the fuck have you been?” Marie stopped stitching up Peyton to offer a cold stare at her burgeoned older daughter who looked like she’d eaten the Hulk for breakfast. Marie knew Natalie was once again bigger, no doubt lucky enough to shoot up before her stash was found. But of course, that wasn’t the case. The mother sized Natalie up from head to toe, visibly repulsed by her ever larger musculature. There was a time when Marie supported her daughter for having muscle, but that encouragement died when Natalie started abusing. “I’ve been sitting here tending to your sister for the better half of an hour!”

Natalie turned to Peyton and eyeballed the broken arm first; a slump of broken bone and limp flesh. This wasn’t the first time Peyton had broken her arm, but it was the worst state it had been in such a case. Her brow was cut in such a way that no doubt a permanent scar would form after healing. Natalie might’ve mostly been a meathead by now, but she still cared. “What happened?”

“What

happened

is your sister stood up for you.” Marie poured alcohol onto a ball of cotton wool and dabbed it onto Peyton’s brow wound. The teen winced again, kicking her heel up against the couch leg. Marie was informed of everything that happened and hated the fact Natalie was at the centre of the incident. Why couldn’t it have been a fight over boys instead? “People were calling you out for being a steroid freak – which you are. Peyton here stood up for you and paid the price for it.”

“Was I supposed to just stay quiet?” Peyton resisted the urge to rub the itching pain on her brow, all while glancing into the mirror at the shiner she got on account of defending her sibling. Marie was of the mind that Peyton shouldn’t have done or said anything and just roll with the assailants’ claim.

Marie groaned. She’d need more cotton wool balls than presumed. Pulling up from her crouch, she stashed the ball she just used in a bag. “Both of you stay there. I’ll be back in a minute.” Natalie took that moment as her opportunity to slip another growth candy into her system. Same as before, her throat flexed as the sugary confectionary slipped down it. There was no sudden growth this time, much to Natalie’s disappointment, but she did feel especially stronger.

Peyton watched her gargantuan sibling down the candy with curiosity. Natalie unfurled the bag to reveal more of them and pulled one out to silently offer. Peyton was ever so tempted to take the new sweet, attracted by the humorous monkey face on the front, but thought better of it. “Better not take anything sugary right now or Mum will kill me.”

Natalie shrugged; forcing her outrageously defined deltoids to surge and roil with the indescribable amount of she-beef cocooned within. “Suit yourself.” She knew all too well what she just offered her sibling but didn’t care much about it. If Natalie found enjoyment in being as beefy as she was, why wouldn’t Peyton? Be that as it may, there was no denying the upset Natalie felt in seeing her being the victim of assault.

Peyton rubbed her eye. She was actually close to crying but didn’t want anyone to see her burst out into hysterics. What would her rippling, tough-as-nails sister think? Truth be told, Natalie could see Payton was fighting her want to bawl and knew she had more courage than otherwise presumed. She was proud of her.

“Tell me who did it.”

Peyton’s tongue locked up. She didn’t want to say anything about who did what to her, but there was something about Natalie’s stern expression that made Peyton question herself. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea. Mum…”

“I’m not asking, Peyton.” There was something about those words from Natalie that made Peyton worry. Not to mention the vast bulging shadow that loomed over the injured girl as her sister stood over her. Just what would happen if the names of those who attacked were revealed? Peyton knew Natalie had the tendency to lash out as a result of her increasing addiction. But at the same time, there was a fear of what would happen if Peyton didn’t say who attacked.

“Dale Clarkson and his group of buddies.”

When Marie came back with the bag of cotton balls, she found herself to be one daughter short. Looking out at the open door, the mother held back her anger to attend to Peyton’s wounds. “Where did your sister go?”

Wracked with anxiousness, Peyton looked at the open door, Summer's breeze gracing her cheek.

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable)

Chapter 22

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word count: 1.6k

“Slav'sya, Gidra,” he whispered into her ear.

“Bol'she nikogda,” Hades choked out, she gripped into the space between her neck and his hand and pulled, his grip only faltered slightly.

She lifted her feet and kicked him hard in the face, he let out a roar and she kicked him again, and again making him lose his grip enough for her to pry his fingers loose. He stood back surprised that she had managed to do such a thing. The skin on his face where she had kicked him had torn open and was dripping blood out slowly.

Not so perfect after all, are we brother?

She pulled her pocket knife from its sheath that she always wore, just in case, and maneuvered around his flailing arms as he tried to hit her again. She used his own leg as a step to reach closer to his head and aimed the sharp weapon straight for the jugular.

It pierced his skin with ease and she sunk it deep into the flesh, he let out a scream that made a chill run through the bones of all the people in the vicinity, she twisted the blade with a little more force before removing it entirely.

  Blood poured out from the wound and drenched the clothing he wore, he collapsed to the ground and lay motionless, and she returned the knife to its sheath and turned to her father.

“Vy khotite pogovorit' o sovershenstve? Moya zhizn' byla ideal'noy, poka ty ne perevernul yeye s nog na golovu, poka ty ne zabral u menya moyu mamu, ne pytal menya, ne oskorblyal menya i ne ispol'zoval menya v svoikh sobstvennykh bol'nichnykh planakh,”

“Pozhaluysta, moya doch', ne delay etogo. YA tvoy otets v kontse kontsov,” he stepped back before tripping and falling backwards, “Ty by ne obidel cheloveka, kotoryy tebya vospital, zabotilsya o tebe,” he crawled back in fear.

“Ty vospital menya, sdelal iz menya zhivotnoye, ty ne moy otets,” she leaned down to grab his neck; he squirmed as she raised him up. “YA nadeyus', chto vasha dusha preterpevayet mucheniya, prichitayushchiyesya yey v adu ot samogo d'yavola,” she whispered before she tightened her grip and watched the light fade from his eyes as the bones in his neck snapped violently against the force.

                      She dropped his limp body to the ground and turned to face the gathering crowds, her heart finally feeling free for the first time in its life, she raised her hands in the air as Mutant Control surrounded her. She placed them behind her head and fell to her knees, allowing them to place a power dampening collar on her, and then they pulled her up and cuffed her hands before putting her into one of their vans.

  Nathan looked to the van and to where the bodies of Hayden’s father and brother now lay, dead; there was an enormous lack of remorse prominent in her face. It was the first time he’d ever seen her so at peace, aside from when she was asleep, and also the first time he’d seen her so cold hearted and ruthless.

“What will they do to her?” he looked to Colossus, feeling a sudden sense of urgency.

“She murdered two people in full view of public, and possibly world, at the very least they will make her face trial to answer for her crimes,”

                                                    * * *

  “Miss Jones, am I correct in being told that not only did you commit an aggravated murder that was filmed live on television by multiple broadcasters, but that in the time of your arrest and your arrival to the court room that you have not showed an inkling of remorse?”

“Yes your Honour,” Hayden answered matter-of-factly from her seat in the witness stand, the jurors gasped and muttered amongst themselves.

“Silence, there will be no discussion until after the proceedings jurors, thank you,” Judge Tillman warned, “Now Miss Jones, you waived your rights to an attorney and to remain silent, are you certain that these are your wishes?”

“Yes your Honour,”

“As you wish, let it be known to the court that the accused has requested to continue her trial without an attorney present, and that the accused has openly admitted that she has committed the crime without remorse,”

  “The judge is already manipulating the jurors,” Nathan whispered irritably to Wade, they were seated in the front row of the court room.

“She’s just making sure everyone knows what’s going on,”

“Still, I don’t like it,” he grumbled and leaned back in his seat and started tapping his foot on the floor.

“Quiet you two,” Colossus chided from behind them, his arms were crossed and he seemed as worried as the others.

  “Our Jurors and I have already witnessed the crime from just hours ago, but the jurors would appreciate hearing your side of the events so that they will not be biased during their verdict making,”

“The older man was my father, the other was my brother, and I’d been trying to locate my father for the past nine years. But six months ago I stopped my search,”

“Miss Jones would you care to elaborate on what you mean by ‘locate’ as opposed to using the word ‘find’?”

“I intended to kill him a long time ago, for what he did to me, for what he was going to do to those kids he abducted-”

“And what exactly had he done to you Miss Jones?”

“I’d rather not say with the entire world watching, your Honour,”

“You will only be making your case of innocence much harder without all the facts, Miss Jones,”

“I don’t care if I go to prison for life, what matters is that he can’t hurt anyone else, I would prefer dying a thousand times over than knowing that I couldn’t stop his plans-”

“Plans? Are you admitting to the court that you knew of a known felon’s plans to abduct young children across all the states and failed to notify any authorities of this?”

  “I knew, it she’s manipulating the jurors-” Nathan moved to stand but Colossus’s firm hand held him down.

“Easy soldier,” Wade patted his shoulder, “Haydes can handle herself,” Nathan sighed but nodded, he crossed his arms once again and continued tapping his foot silently.

  “Yes I was aware of his plans, but I did not contact authorities because I had no idea where he’d make his next move, as I said earlier I was tracking him down, but as soon as I got close he would disappear without a trace and I’d have to start all over again,”

“And you mentioned that you stopped searching for him six months ago, why is that?”

“Well I- uh I needed to stop my best friend from killing himself, again,” she glanced at Wade briefly, “I was just a few miles from getting him that time. Your Honour, may I ask what law enforcement believed my father was doing with those kids?”

“As you well know but I shall reiterate, it was thought that he was trafficking the children, possibly as drug mules or as sex slaves,”

“Well your Honour, I have the evidence that says otherwise, if I may have my handcuffs removed I could-”

“Miss Jones you are handcuffed for the killings of two people, I shall not have them removed, for the safety of the public,”

“If I intended to hurt the public I would have already done that, I guarantee you,”

“Excuse me Miss Jones?”

                           Hayden stood up which alerted the guards and she snapped the handcuffs effortlessly from her wrists, she ripped off the power dampening collar and threw it in the centre of the court floor, and then she walked forward and faced the crowd that stared in anticipation and fear. The guards surrounded her at a safe distance and waited for the Judge to give any commands.

“Your powering dampening collars only affect mutants, you people fear mutants because of their enhanced senses and their abilities when you should fear something much worse,”

“And who would that be Miss Jones?”

“Your fathers, your mothers, brothers or even sisters, hell you should fear yourselves. You normal people are so maddened with the idea of power and control that you go to extremes of creating human weapons, brainwash them to follow your orders and command them to do the dirty work for you, and then you toss them aside once they longer serve your purposes,” she paused to let the information sink in for the crowd.

  “You want your evidence your Honour?” her skin glowed a bright violet, the crowd began muttering amongst themselves, and her eyes burned in the judge’s direction. She stepped forward, slowly so as not to make the guards attack, and removed something from her pocket.

She placed it on the table and slid it across to the judge; the judge picked up the small flash drive and eyeballed it before looking at Hayden.

“Am I to understand that the evidence is on this flash drive?”

“All the plans he had for creating a super soldier army under his command are there, I was the first but I certainly wasn’t the last. He wanted to take Hydra to an all new level of power,”

“Very well, I will dismiss the court so that I may review this new evidence, in the meanwhile Miss Jones will you willingly stay in a cell, as you are after all under arrest,”

“I don’t see why not, I’m not completely against following the law,”

  The judge waved her hand and a few guards escorted Hayden from the court room, she looked to Wade and mouthed something that Nathan couldn’t quite make out, Wade sighed and pinched his brow.

“What was she saying?” Nathan asked, Wade looked to him briefly.

“She said she’ll be fine and not to worry. Don’t people know that always has the opposite effect?” he turned his attention back in her direction and Nathan’s chest pounded anxiously as he watched her disappear out the doors from his view.

________________________________________________________________

Translations in order:

“Slav'sya, Gidra,” - Hail Hydra

“Bol'she nikogda,” - Never again

“Vy khotite pogovorit' o sovershenstve? Moya zhizn' byla ideal'noy, poka ty ne perevernul yeye s nog na golovu, poka ty ne zabral u menya moyu mamu, ne pytal menya, ne oskorblyal menya i ne ispol'zoval menya v svoikh sobstvennykh bol'nichnykh planakh,” - You want to talk about perfection? My life was perfect until you turned it upside down, until you took my mother away from me and tortured me, abused me, and used me for your own sick plans

“Pozhaluysta, moya doch', ne delay etogo. YA tvoy otets v kontse kontsov, Ty by ne obidel cheloveka, kotoryy tebya vospital, zabotilsya o tebe,” - Please my daughter, don’t do this. I am your father after all. You would not hurt the man who raised you, cared for you

“Ty vospital menya, sdelal iz menya zhivotnoye, ty ne moy otets, YA nadeyus', chto vasha dusha preterpevayet mucheniya, prichitayushchiyesya yey v adu ot samogo d'yavola,” -You trained me, made me into an animal, you are no father of mine. I hope your soul endures the tortures owed to it in Hell by the Devil himself.

>> Chapter 23 <<

[astrogeoguy]

Maximum Mercury, and the Old Moon’s Tour of Pre-Dawn Planets gives us Dark Night Delights!

(Above: The centrepiece of Orion’s Sword is the Orion Nebula, as shown in this image captured by Rick Foster on January 7, 2019. The nebula is visible in binoculars and small telescopes.)

Hello, Stargazers!

Here are your Astronomy Skylights for the week of February 24th, 2019 by Chris Vaughan. Feel free to pass this along to your friends and send me your comments, questions, and suggested topics. I repost these emails with photos at http://astrogeoguy.tumblr.com/ where all the old editions are archived. You can also follow me on Twitter as @astrogeoguy! Unless otherwise noted, all times are Eastern Time. Please click this MailChimp link to subscribe to these emails. If you are a teacher or group leader interested joining me on a guided field trip to York University’s Allan I. Carswell Observatory or the David Dunlap Observatory, visit www.astrogeo.ca.

I can bring my Digital Starlab inflatable planetarium to your school or other daytime or evening event, visit DiscoveryPlanitarium.com and request me. We’ll tour the Universe together! 

Public Astro-Events

On Sunday afternoon, February 24 at 2 pm in the JRR Macleod Auditorium at U of T, RASC and the Royal Canadian Institute (RCI) will co-present a free public panel discussion entitled Should Humans Go to Mars? The event is waitlisted already, but you can get more details here. 

Every Monday evening, York University’s Allan I. Carswell Observatory runs an online star party - broadcasting views from four telescopes/cameras, answering viewer questions, and taking requests! Details are here. On Wednesday nights they offer free public viewing through their rooftop telescopes. If it’s cloudy, the astronomers give tours and presentations. Details are here. 

At 7:30 pm on Wednesday, February 27, the RASC Toronto Centre will hold their free monthly Recreational Astronomy Night Meeting at the Ontario Science Centre, and the public are welcome. Talks include The Sky This Month, an update on the David Dunlap Observatory, and a DIY project for telescope focusing. Check here for details. Parking is free. 

On Friday, March 1, starting at 6:15 pm, U of T’s AstroTour will present their free planetarium show entitled The Life and Death of Stars. Details are here. 

If it’s sunny on Saturday morning, March 2 from 10 am to noon, astronomers from the RASC Toronto Centre will be setting up outside the main doors of the Ontario Science Centre for Solar Observing. Come and see the Sun in detail through special equipment designed to view it safely. This is a free event (details here), but parking and admission fees inside the Science Centre will still apply. Check the RASC Toronto Centre website or their Facebook page for the Go or No-Go notification. 

On Saturday, March 2, starting at 7 pm, U of T’s AstroTour will present their free planetarium show entitled Grand Tour of the Cosmos. Details are here. 

The Bright Stars of February

If you missed my story about many the bright stars you can look at with your unaided eyes on the cold clear nights of February, I posted it here. 

See the “Demon” Star Brighten

The “Demon Star”, more formally known as Algol or Alpha Persei, is a star that is easy to see using unaided eyes under suburban and rural skies. Algol’s visual brightness dims noticeably for about 10 hours once every 2 days, 20 hours, and 49 minutes – like clockwork. Located in Perseus (the Hero), this star is among the most accessible variable stars for beginners because the amount it varies by is large and it remains bright enough to see without optical aid when it dims. 

Contrary to the gory colours that might be inspired by its nickname (it represents one glowing eye in the severed head of Medusa the Gorgon), Algol is actually a hot, white star located 92 light-years from Earth. Algol’s regular dimming happens because a dim companion star orbiting nearly edge-on to Earth crosses in front of the much brighter main star – an arrangement that is called an eclipsing binary star system. The dimming periods can fall at any time of the day or night. This week, the timing of one cycle makes watching the return to brightness a convenient project for evening observers. 

(Above: The variable star Algol in Perseus will reach its minimum brightness at 8 pm EST on Friday, March 1. Over the following five hours you can watch it brighten while the Earth’s rotation carries it lower. For best results, compare the star to others nearby - at 8 pm and then later on.)

This Friday, March 1 at 8:04 pm EST, Algol will be at its minimum brightness of magnitude 3.4. At that time, the star will sit a bit more than halfway up the western sky – 2.3 fist diameters directly below the bright yellow star Capella. Over the following five hours, Algol will descend into the west while it steadily brightens. By 1 am EST, it will be low over the northwestern horizon and will have brightened to its usual magnitude of 2.1. Let me know if you track its change! 

The Moon and Planets

Great news for astronomers! This week, the moon will be completely out of the evening sky, leaving it nice and dark for chasing galaxies, star clusters, and nebulas. Instead, the waning moon will be seen in the southeastern pre-dawn sky while it slides towards next week’s new moon phase. The moon will also make its monthly visit to the bright pre-dawn planets this week. 

On Monday morning before sunrise, the moon will sit among the stars of Libra (the Scales). On Tuesday morning, the moon will reach its last quarter phase – when it will be illuminated from the side by the pre-dawn sun and will appear with a “half-moon” shape. At this point in the moon’s monthly cycle, it rises after midnight and lingers into the daytime morning sky. 

In the southeastern pre-dawn sky on Wednesday, the waning last quarter moon will sit 2 finger widths to the upper right of the very bright planet Jupiter. Both objects will fit into the field of view of binoculars and telescopes at low magnification. Observers in western North America and the Pacific region will see the moon when it is even closer to Jupiter. 

On Friday morning, the waning crescent moon will be located three finger widths to the upper right of yellowish Saturn. Both objects will fit into the field of view of binoculars. Later that same day, observers in most of Micronesia, northern Polynesia (except Hawaii), Central America, and Southern North America can see the moon cross in front of (or occult) Saturn in daylight. The following morning, between about 5 am local time and dawn, the slim crescent moon will be positioned 4.5 finger widths to the right of bright Venus. The pair will make a lovely photo opportunity when composed with a foreground landscape.

(Above: On Tuesday evening, Mercury will swing widest from the sun, allowing it to remain visible in the darkening sky after sunset. The best times to look for the planet fall between about 6:15 and 7:15 pm local time. After Tuesday, Mercury will slowly descend towards the sun.)   

This week’s evenings are your absolute best chances to see elusive Mercury during 2019, if you live in the Northern Hemisphere! On Tuesday evening, Mercury will reach its widest separation from the Sun. Because Mercury will be sitting above a nearly vertical evening ecliptic, the sky will begin to darken while Mercury is still well above the western horizon – revealing the planet clearly. 

The optimal viewing times fall between 6:15 and 7:15 pm local time. If you view Mercury in your small telescope, the planet will exhibit a waning half-illuminated disk. Find a viewing spot where the western horizon is low and free of foreground obstructions. Once the sun has fully set, sweep the sky with binoculars - or your own sharp eyeballs – looking for a medium bright, unmoving point of light.

(Above: As shown here at 7 pm local time on Tuesday, early evening this week offers the chance to find three planets - Mercury and Mars will be easy, while Uranus will require binoculars and star chart.)  

The other easy evening planet to see this week will be Mars. When the sky begins to darken, Mars will appear as a medium-bright, reddish pinpoint of light about halfway up the western sky. The Red Planet will set at about 11:15 pm local time. Mars has been slowly shrinking in size and brightness as we increase our distance from it little-by-little. 

Mars is still positioned less than a fist’s diameter above the much dimmer, blue-green planet Uranus. During this week, Mars will continue to climb away from Uranus. In the meantime, the distant ice giant planet can be identified by aiming binoculars about 1.6 finger widths above the modestly bright star named Torcular (or Omega Piscium). Look for Uranus right after dark - this week the planet will set at around 10:30 pm local time.

(Above: The pre-dawn sky features three bright planets, as shown here at 6 am local time. From Tuesday to Friday, the waning moon will sweep past the planets. Jupiter, Venus, and the moon should remain visible up until sunrise.)  

If you are willing to venture outside on a clear morning this week, you can enjoy the spectacle of the moon plus three bright planets – Jupiter, Saturn, and Venus, appearing low in the eastern morning sky. 

Bright Jupiter will rise first, at about 3 am local time. By dawn, it will be a beacon in the southern sky. Yellowish Saturn, which is twice as far away as Jupiter, is correspondingly dimmer. The ringed planet will rise at about 4:30 am local time and will be lost in the twilight by 7 am. Our sister planet Venus is only one-fifth as far from Earth as Jupiter. Venus’ blazing brilliance will grace the southeastern dawn sky after 5 am local time, and remain in view until sunrise. In a telescope, Venus will exhibit a gibbous (more than half-illuminated) phase. 

Dark Night Delights

With the moon out of the evening sky this week and next, it’s time to grab your binoculars and telescopes and explore the darker sky for treasures. Deep sky objects are astronomical sights that are beyond our solar system. Here are some suggestions for viewing. 

(Above: In this sky chart for late February at 9 pm local time, many of the best deep sky objects are labeled with yellow. Star clusters are indicated by yellow broken circles, nebulas by green outlines, and galaxies by red ovals. Larger symbols indicate the objects are easier to see. The bright double star Castor is out of the image at top centre.)

Double stars and multiple stars are generally positioned less than a few hundred light-years from the sun, close enough for us to see them as individual stars. Among the best and easiest ones are Sigma Orionis (a finger’s width below Orion’s leftmost belt star), many of the stars forming Taurus’ triangular face, the star Almach (which is 2 fist diameters to the left of Cassiopeia), and Castor (the higher of the Gemini twins). 

Open star clusters are concentrations of tens to hundreds of stars. This class of deep sky object is farther away than double stars – from a few hundred to a thousand light years distant. The brightest and easiest cluster to see in late February is the Pleiades Cluster (Messier 45). This cluster is composed of a compact, bright group of six stars three times the diameter of the full moon and located high in the western evening sky, about 3.5 fist’s diameters to the right of Orion’s Belt.

(Above: This image of the Pleiades Cluster, or Messier 45, was taken by Stuart Norman of Toronto on October 19, 2017 from the Blue Mountains, Ontario. This large object, three times the moon’s diameter, is best viewed in binoculars or a telescope at low magnification. The blue nebulosity is foreground dust scattering the bright starlight.)

Another big cluster surrounds the bright star Mirfak in Perseus (the Hero). There’s a gorgeous, bright pair of clusters called The Double Cluster is located midway between Mirfak and Cassiopeia. Sweeping the sky with binoculars, you can find more clusters in Cassiopeia (the Queen) and Auriga (the Charioteer). 

Nebulas are collections of glowing, cold interstellar hydrogen gas distributed along our galaxy’s spiral arms. Nebulas are the birthplace of star clusters, so they have to be larger in diameter than clusters. The best nebula in the winter sky is the Orion Nebula (Messier 42). It’s the central patch of light in Orion’s sword. Another, dimmer nebula named the Rosette Nebula sits between and slightly above the imaginary line connecting the star Procyon to Orion’s Belt. It’s about 5,000 light-years away! 

Once we’ve left our galaxy behind, we have to look a long way away for our final type of deep sky object – the galaxies. The closest and brightest galaxy in the late winter night sky is the Andromeda Galaxy (Messier 31). Its light has been journeying to our eyes for 2.5 million years! The Andromeda Galaxy sits in the northwestern evening sky, 1.5 fist diameters to the lower left of Cassiopeia. 

Over in the eastern evening sky, the evening constellation Leo (the Lion) hosts a tremendous number of distant, dim galaxies, too. But we’ll save them for another day. I’ll post some beautiful images and sky charts here. Good luck with your hunt! 

(Above: The zodiacal light, at left, is sunlight reflecting off of interplanetary dust particles concentrated in the plane of our solar system. On moonless spring evenings, it can be seen in the west from dark sky locations after sunset. This image was captured by Bill Longo of Toronto in 2018.)

Evening Zodiacal Light

For about half an hour after dusk between today and the new moon on March 6, look west-southwest for a broad wedge of faint light rising from the horizon and centered on the ecliptic. This is the zodiacal light - reflected sunlight from interplanetary particles of matter concentrated in the plane of the solar system. The glow will be centred on the horizon directly below Mars. Try to observe from a location without light pollution, and don't confuse the zodiacal light with the brighter Milky Way to the northwest.

Keep looking up, and enjoy the sky when you do. I love questions and requests - so, send me some!

[ecotone99]

[HM] The Downvoter

A horrifying scream shook the dead of night. And suddenly the village of Reddit was alive with the sounds of hysteria and muffled concern, as townsfolk emerged from their cottage homes, out into the streets and gathered in its centre.

Then, almost as soon as it began, the feverish crowd hushed. Footsteps on cobblestone gave way to a gap in the crowd which snaked along; a distraught priest dressed in black robes carried the body of a naked woman, a trail of restrained gasps following him. Somebody cried out, "Murder!" Another, yelled, "Witch!"

When he got to the gallows which sat in the town centre, the priest lay the body down on the cold stone and closed its eyes. A smartly-dressed fat man in a top hat was pushing through the swarm of townsfolk, shouting, "Let me through, let me through!" He approached the naked girl until he was looking down at her face. Then his face shone red and began to pulsate. "Alright," he shouted into the crowd, breathing through his nose, "Which one of you degenerates did this?"

Nobody answered.

He pointed to a random bystander with a judgemental finger: "Was it you?" Then he paraded over to a young peasant boy and grabbed him by the scruff: "Was it you? You filthy peasant, I'll kill y-"

"It could be anyone." An intelligent male voice spoke from behind him. Everything fell silent again as the mayor lay off the boy and slowly turned around to face the speaker. It was the town's doctor.

He walked up and rested his hand on the gallows, looking up at it with reverence, as though it were judging him and everyone else. "You see these people around you? It could be any one of them. This town ain't safe no more, mayor." He began to circle the gallows along the ring of the crowd, making eye contact with random people as he spoke. "You wanna know what it is?... You think it's a witch?" He stopped and made claw gestures with his hands: "Or even a werewolf?" Then started walking again. "Hell, maybe it's the Devil himself?"

"Mountain troll, probably. Came down from the snowy lands to feast on man's juiciest flesh." The priest muttered to himself loud enough that the fat mayor heard it, who immediately turned and started strangling him. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"We don't know who it is yet," the doctor resumes, "but I think I just might know what it is."

Trembling silence.

"If it were a mountain troll, well then there wouldn't be nothin' left. Trolls eat to stay alive. We're food to them. Likewise with a werewolf, they kill to eat most of the time, and even when they don't, they leave a nasty bite. With a witch, you get a hex on the back or the forehead. No.

Ladies and gentleman, what we're dealing with is far more perverse than that. Whatever killed Jenny, whatever killed Rose, it did it without ever touching them. It pulled their souls from their bodies and dragged them into hell, and it enjoyed it. Now it's gonna do the same to all of us.

We could strangle every man and woman in this town and we'd still never know. All I know is that we have two young girls dead with no imbalance of humors and no cause of death." He continues: "This thing hides among us. It is your best friend. Your mother. Your son. Your daughter. Your wife. It could be your cobbler, or that baker from down the road. What we got here is a Downvoter."

The crowd gasps in terror and a baby starts crying. A woman faints, shortly followed by a man who also faints. A small girl vomits on her younger sister and a bunch of peasants kneel down in prayer.

The mayor lets go of the priest's neck and turns toward the doctor; his face, flushed of red and ghostly-absent: "A-a Downvoter? A-are you sure?"

A naive peasant boy steps out from the crowd and speaks with squeaky innocence: "What's a downvo'er?"

The doctor walks over to the boy and crouches opposite him, as members of the crowd whimper in dread. He puts a sympathetic hand on the boy's shoulder and looks him firmly in the eyes. "Downvoters are snakemen. Some call them skinwalkers. They look just like you and me, but they ain't no man. If the moon shines a certain way, his eyeballs turn to diamonds, and 'is tongue turns green and spiky like a two-pronged fork. Some say they come from over the mountains, in the forest, to steal away our dreams and our souls."

Now the mayor is pacing up and down like a madman: "It's happening again. It's happening again. It's happening again. It's happening again."

An old lady announces to the crowd: "We're all screwed!" And a pandemonium of noisy concern breaks out:

"Who's gonna protect us?"

"I don't feel safe anymore!"

"Wiiiiiiitch!"

"What about the children? Won't somebody please think of the children!"

"My leg!"

The mayor pipes up: "QUIET. Quiet down!" When the uproar settles to a murmur, the doctor begins speaking again.

"This thing thrives on fear and it revels in chaos. It learns through what we say, and what we do. It's probably watching us right now. If I'm right and it is indeed a Downvoter we're dealing with, then the best thing we can do is all go back to our homes and pray God have mercy on us.

Lock the doors, close your shutters. Stay in your rooms and don't answer to anyone, not even your mother's voice. If we can last the night and get some good sleep, we'll be in proper form tomorrow to deal with the situation better under light of day. That's all we can hope for." He pauses and looks around at the crowd as if he's searching for someone he knows, then the mayor echoes the doctor's instructions to go back to their homes.

The crowd quickly disperses in a paranoid race to their respective front doors. Shutters slam closed like dominos falling one after the other. Door locks clank shut.

Just as the mayor steps off in the direction of his house, the doctor taps him on the shoulder. "Do you mind if I have a word with you?"

"I'm tired and scared." He replied grumpily. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if we might discuss the matter at hand over a cup of tea at my cottage, or we could go to your house. It makes no difference to me." The mayor grunts a sigh.

"Alright then. We better had do, hadn't we?"

"Yesssss."

"What did you say?"

"Er, um: yes. Yes we had."

The doctor put his arm around the mayor and they both walk into the darkness.

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[ecotone99]

[RF] Invisible to the eye

“Do you know what a homunculus is?”

“No, never heard of it”

“It’s this image of a little guy they use in neuroscience to show how many sensory nerves you have in each part of the body. The more nerves in a part of the body, the bigger that part is drawn.”

“Yea?”

“Yea. So he has massive hands and a huge d...”

I dismissed his description with a feigned grimace and vaguely gay gesture of the hand. I’m not gay, and have used the ‘d-word’ many times before, but there is something oddly unsettling about an old man using it so casually.

“Do you know why he has a huge d....”

“Yes! I get it!”

The old man shot a sideways squinted glance probingly at me.

“Are you gay?”

“No, I’m not gay.”

Obviously, the ambiguous nature of the hand gesture from a moment ago was more apparent than I had realised. I need to be more careful with that.

“You just seem a little uncomfortable with references to...er, the male organ of love.” The last part, enclosed safely in air quotes, was whispered breathily to me.

“I’m not gay.”

“It’s ok if you are.”

“Just tell me about the homunculus...”

The old man considered me with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and suspicion, but he was too tempted by the conversational bait he had cast. His frozen expression softened and, eyes alit, he took off from where he had left the lesson before.

“He’s a weird looking guy, alright. Big ears, lips and...” He glanced up at me, searching my face for permission that was not there.

“...and feet. But do you know what’s the weirdest thing about this guy?”

“Yea?”

“No eyes...he has no eyes.”

I considered this image and felt a cold shudder ripple through me. It seemed out of proportion, more like I was anticipating some future coldness - something of which the details were obscure but the feeling of was disturbingly vivid.

“Why does he have no eyes?”

“Because there are so many nerves in the eye, if they put that in, all you’d see are two giant eyeballs and nothing else.”

“Wow.”

“Right? Interesting right? Those damn eyeballs are so big we pay little attention to the other five senses. And we completely ignore the subtler senses inside of us.”

“You mean, like our soul...?”

The word slipped clumsily out between my teeth, and felt as though I had somehow mispronounced it or said it with a heavy accent in the way a foreigner would. The word itself was not mispronounced, of course, but it felt like its meaning was. Is that even possible? Can one mispronounce the ​meaning behind the word?

“Don’t be stupid. I mean like...like your liver.”

“What?”

“Well, all your internal organs. Don’t you wonder about everything that goes on inside there while you’re walking around doing your thing?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever really thought of that.”

“You should. It’s freaking amazing in there man.”

The old man’s sense of wonder at my innards was, despite my current state, infectious. He must have sensed this as he continued with even more vigour.

“Take your liver. It’s just the most incredible piece of nature...do you have any idea how many chemical reactions happen in your liver to keep you alive?”

“No idea.”

“Neither do I, but it’s a lot. The heart gets all the credit. Centre-of-the-soul, symbol-of-love and all that. And it knows it, too, beating arrogantly in your chest like it owns the place. It’s a brutish, ill-mannered organ, the heart. It’s like the politician of the body. All noise and no class. Or like the pretty-boy jock of high-school. You know what I mean? The guy with no brains who gets all the girls..”

The derisive reference to the pretty-boy-jock sent a sudden wave of shrapnel through my mind. In a moment, I winced externally, but internally that moment separated into an infinite array of time capsules, playing out sequentially and mercilessly within my mind’s eye. My girlfriend (now ex, apparently) confessing that she has feelings for a work colleague - the pretty boy. As tall as he is good-looking as he is dumb. The previous girlfriend, less direct but no less devastating. A thousand loveless glances and snubbed embraces communicate unworthiness more slowly but more deeply. Passages from books and essays espousing the virtue and vindictiveness of love, taking the heart and mind back and forth until both come resting somewhere in the middle, more out of exhaustion than clarity. And finally, the father, defeated by the same question. If he couldn’t find his way, what hope did I, a much lesser man, have? Suddenly,I realised where the earlier shudder had come from.

The old man must have noticed my little wince as his spoken thoughts trailed off into silence. His expression, now sympathetic, was focused squarely on me.

“You ok there man?”

“Yea... yea I’m fine.”

I stood perfectly still as the house of feelings within me became taller and more precarious. I knew if I moved or shifted my glance, it would all come crashing down at once. That was certainly not something I wanted to happen in the middle of the day on a busy sidewalk. The old man must have known this too as he accepted my obvious lie and continued.

“Yea, the liver is amazing. Silently doing all that work without ever resting.”

“Why are you so obsessed with the liver?”

As if on cue, the old man promptly lifted all the dirty layers of his clothing to reveal a large pale belly marked with a long scar on its right side.

“I got a replacement when my old one broke. I’m a new man!”

He grinned ecstatically at his own display, looking proudly at the scar and back at me many times. I noticed that the grin revealed a few teeth that would benefit from replacement too. For the first time during our encounter, I assessed the full extent of the old man’s situation. The dirty layers and teeth. Mounds of clothing and blankets, presumably donated by kind passersby. The mattress of cardboard that was his bed. And the little styrofoam cup that had caught my attention and received my deposit of spare change just a few moments ago.

“How’d you end up on the street like this?”

The old man winced as I did before, and I regretted the enquiry the moment I uttered it. I had not given him the same courtesy of allowing him to hide his pain. Instead, it remained edged on his face in a way that I would never forget. For the first time, his gaze, drifting down, could not hold my own. As his being deflated before me, I could see the time capsules playing out in his mind, even if their content would remain forever hidden from me.

“That...is a long story.”

Feeling the dull ache of guilt and helplessness, I made another, more generous contribution to the styrofoam cup.

“Well, good luck to you sir.”

“And to you, young man.”

With both of our houses intact, I walked away, not feeling any better, but at least not feeling any worse.

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