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calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt · 4 years

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Hiraeth (C.H.)

Hiraeth: a homesickness for a home you can never return to, a home which maybe never was.

a/n: welcome back. please enjoy this entirely too long calum hood boarding school au. I did my best, but if there are any discrepancies PLEASE send me an ask and tell me!!! I included the women of 5sos for more character diversity and I low-key kind of love it! this is about the first 10 pages and theres dozens more to come that are already written! come hell or high-water, I am committing to finishing this wip, please feel free to send me thoughts and questions!!!

“Crap.” Sierra muttered under her breath when she noticed the sign on the old RA’s door. Even though she wouldn’t have considered them friends, Sierra was at least comfortable enough with the old RA to go to her when Sierra needed to get into her room. She really had to start keeping track of her keys better.

Stalking back down the hallway, she went to go find Kaykay, knowing her roommate would definitely have her keys.

….

“A new RA?” Calum sounded skeptical over dinner the next day. “It’s kind of late in the school year for that.”

“What do you care, Hood?” Michael rested his weight on his elbows on the table and smirked at Hood over his sandwich. “Afraid of a little competition?”

“What competition?” Luke looked up from his latest novel, some clunky old thing he was reading in french.

“Competition for the best RA, duh.” Kaykay kicked her feet up onto the table, only to have Hood shove them back onto the ground. Hood never let her have her feet on the table when they were eating but that didn't stop her from putting them up there. One day, one day she would be able to keep them up there for the entirety of the lunch. It was like her white whale. “Maybe this one will let us play poker on her floor.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not off to a great start. I got locked out earlier and had to find Kaykay to let me into our room.” Sierra was still a little bothered by that. Even though rationally she knew she should cut the new RA some slack, her blisters were making it kinda hard to forget her trek.

“Come on now, Si. A little walking never killed anybody.” Michael gave Sierra a grin that stretched wide across his face, but if there was anyone who could resist it, it was Sierra.

“You’re not the one who had to walk all the way across campus.” Sierra was grumbling into her food, but it was still audible to Kaykay, who smothered a snicker.

“Give her a chance, Sierra. The new RA was probably still moving in. Be nice.” Crystal was palming orange slices into Luke’s hands as he read, who was robotically eating them. Kaykay, on the other hand, was blowing her straw wrapper at Luke’s face, cheering when she hit him. Luke didn’t seem to register either one of them.

“Coach says we’re getting someone new on the soccer team. Maybe it’s also the new RA?” Kaykay picked at her food absentmindedly, as if contemplating the odds of it being the same person. Kaykay was pretty good friends with everyone on the team, but she was on JV and the coach said the new girl would be on varsity.

“Maybe. Everyone finish up. Curfew’s in 15 minutes, and you all need to be back in the dorms by then.” Hood didn’t seem like he put much thought into the conversation that had gone down at the table, more concerned with corralling his bunch into following the rules. It almost never happened, but Hood still tried.

“It’s not like it’ll matter much. Sierra and I don’t have anyone there to tell us we're late.” Kaykay was still playing the cat and mouse game with Hood, her doc martens gracing the table with their presence once more. Hood, to his credit, pushed them off not even a minute later.

Crystal stood up, dragging Luke with her. “Yeah, but we do.”

….

“Do you think she’ll be nice? Or like super strict? God, I hope she’s not super strict. Maybe we’ll get super lucky and get someone like Hood. Michael and Luke are so lucky.” Sierra was kind of nervous. She always got like this when she was gearing up to meet new people. Yet, her rambling subsided when she heard voices echoing down the mahogany hallways.

“No, you cannot set their rooms on fire. I don't care that they replaced your lip gloss with jelly, arson is not the answer. Please just shave their eyebrows like normal students. And go late at night so you don’t get caught. If you get caught, I’ll have to play dumb and that’s kinda hard for the valedictorian.” Kaykay and Sierra watched as two sophomores ran giggling down the hallway, armed with freshly acquired shaving cream and devious new plans.

Sierra and Kaykay locked eyes then spoke in unison. “Definitely cool.”

They took the short walk down to your doorway, where you were leaning and watching the two girls run off. You wore casual clothes, white school t-shirt, blue plaid men’s boxers, and mix-matched socks, one short with an avocado on it and one tall with mini corgis. You were chugging iced coffee through straw like your life depended on it. Sierra took it all in, deciding she liked you by the time her eyes made it up to your metal straw.

You took one look at Sierra and Kaykay, almost studying them. “You heard nothing.”

Sierra was quick to reply, already wanting your approval. “Not a peep. I’m Sierra, and this is Kaykay. We’re on your floor.”

“Ah. Cool beans.” You introduced yourself, looking at Kaykay a second longer than Sierra. “You’re on the soccer team, right?”

“Yeah.” Unlike Sierra, Kaykay clammed up around people she didn’t know, and she was still quiet around the ones she did. “Are you the new girl the coach told us about?”

“I am indeed. I start practicing with you guys tomorrow.” You glanced at a notification that popped up on your phone, scrunching up your eyes a bit to read it. “It’s kinda late. Shouldn’t you two youngsters be asleep? You’ll need it if you wanna grow up big and strong.”

“Yeah, yes, of course. We promise we won't set anyone’s room on fire either.” After a withering glance from you, Sierra grinned. “Not that we would ever do that. Where would someone even get an idea like that?”

You smirked right back at them. “You know where I am if you ever need anything. But be warned, I’m not a morning person.”

With that you turned and shut your door, leaving Sierra and Kaykay standing in the hallway right outside your door.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sierra’s smile was as wide as her face allowed. She had a devious look on her face, one that only a person who had illegally downloaded thousands of shows on her laptop could have.

“I never am. I’m pretty sure no one ever is.” Kaykay was skeptical, knowing that whatever was going on in that genius brain of Sierra’s could not be good. Sierra had a nose for sticking her nose in other people’s business.

“Her, plus Hood, equals literally the most perfect couple in the world. Maybe to ever exist.” Oh, she could already see them together, holding hands, you making Hood laugh for once in his life. Him cheering you on at your soccer games. You cheering him on at his if the gang could force him to have fun. Oh, this was perfect. Beyond perfect.

“Are you sure? We probably shouldn’t meddle in other people’s love lives. It might be kinda rude.” Kaykay scrunched up her nose, allowing Sierra to drag her by the wrist back to their room. Kaykay wasn’t a particularly nosy person.She was a big fan of giving herself rules to not get attached, such as ‘hey, don't insert yourself into other people’s love lives.’

“Oh, hush, I’m literally the best cupid. I even have the wings for it.” Sierra was jogging a little now, so many plans already rushing through her head. Sierra had always considered herself a bit of genius, but she had outdone herself this time.

…

“Hello, my darlings!” Sierra was buzzing with excitement. This was a big moment for her. Her scheme was about to be set into motion, and god, was she excited. Hood was stuck in a floor meeting for Lincoln house, which meant you were, too. She took the timing of the meeting as a sign from the gods that this was meant to be. “Listen up please. I have news.”

Sierra remained standing as the others gathered round and took their seats. She waited until everyone sat down and was too busy with their food to interrupt her.

“So. Kaykay and I have met the new RA, and let me tell you, she is amazing.” Sierra grinned leaning forward on the table. Her words all came out a teensy bit rushed, as they were prone to do when she was excited.

“Weren’t you just hating on that chick yesterday? What changed your mind?” Michael was halfway through his eggs, and three-quarters of the way awake. Sierra could be loud when she got excited, and he wasn’t looking to be all the way awake yet.

“Hush, your leader is speaking. Anywho, she is not a chick, she is a queen. She is also perfect for one pseudo dad floor advisor we know.” Sierra was swatting at Kaykay, who was barely awake, trying to get her to pay attention to her all-knowing speech. Kaykay to her credit, hummed in agreement, albeit with her eyes closed.

“Wait, perfect as in like dating?” Luke looked almost disgusted at the idea of two people in a relationship. Crystal almost let Luke catch her smiling, but hid it at the last second. Crystal guessed he was still in the ‘girls have cooties’ phase, and it amused her to no end.

“She’s pretty cool.” Kaykay's words were soft with sleep, but there was enough of a lull in the conversation from everyone to hear her. “She’s on the soccer team with me.”

“As the most responsible person here, I cannot condone this and will not partake in any scheme you may or may not dream up. However, I also know I can’t stop you. Please just don’t do anything too stupid.” Crystal was sipping a glass of tea, trying not to look bemused by the idea of Hood in a relationship. Even though he was only a year younger than her, she reminisced on her own young love. It would be good for him, Crystal thought to herself. Plus, she had seen you around the library quite a bit. The two of you had chatted, and Crystal already liked you. Maybe she wouldn't have an active role in the forging of the relationship, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t support it.

“I dunno. I’d have to meet her before I could make a judgment on whether she’s good enough for Hood.” Even though Micahel didn’t care to admit it, Hood was the dad to their little group of misfits. Michael didn't want him to get hurt, especially if it would be their fault.

Sierra was grinning her ‘I’m a genius and this is genius’ grin again. “Oh, trust me. She is.”

…

You were lying on a couch in the commons when their gaggle found you, chewing forbidden gum and texting on a forbidden phone. You had seen them approaching, but still didn’t care enough to put your phone away. You hadn’t taken either of the girls you met last night as a snitch, and from the looks of the girl in the against dress code denim jacket, you were probably right to assume the same about all of them.

“Sup kiddies.” You didn’t even glance up at them. If they weren’t screaming, it wasn’t an emergency. And if it wasn’t an emergency, it wasn’t worth looking up from your intense game of 8-ball for.

“We require assistance.” Sierra was acting as the pseudo leader of the group, speaking up before the others got the chance.

“In what form? We talking ‘hide a body’ or ‘I got locked out’ kind of assistance?” This time you looked up, taking in seven sets of eyes upon you, including Crystal and a different senior you didn’t know. Immediately, you were suspicious. Why would two seniors be needing your help?

“More of the second one, but also not.” You sighed and stood up, stretching as you did so. Nothing like a second-day, midafternoon crisis to get your blood flowing.

“What’s up?” You introduced yourself to the rest of the bunch and gave a quick nod to Crystal. “You’ve got me for 20 minutes and then I have a soccer practice. Actually, you do too, Kaykay.”

“This won’t take long. You have extra library privileges since you're a RA, right?” Sierra took off as soon as you stood up, the rest of the group following, clearly already knowing whatever plan they had formed. You stayed silent, waiting for them to explain more before you promised to be able to help. It was a bit confusing why they needed your help since Crystal actually worked in the library.

“Moving on. We wanna rent out a study room for a little bit this evening and...,” there was a pregnant pause as they all made eye contact between Sierra’s words, “study.”

“Yeah, I’m still not seeing how any of this involves me.” You were near the back next to Crystal, noting Sierra’s wild hairstyle and purple lip gloss, and Kaykay’s various piercings. The group didn’t exactly seem like the rule following type, which made you even more perplexed for their need for you. What could they be getting at?

“We need you to persuade the librarian to bump one of the study room spots open. They’re all filled.” Ah, finally, the truth came out. Luckily for them, you had made good with the librarian after spending most of your free time with her. Being the new kid, plus the pressure from your parents to keep your grades up, equaled having you living in the library. But none of them knew that except for Crystal.

The need for your help in the library made you pause for a second. Crystal worked in the library. She could definitely be of more help than you, and you were pretty sure everyone in the group knew it.

“They like you. They just don’t know how to ask to hangout with you in a normal way.” Crystal lowered her voice, almost whispering. She loved her little band of misfits, but their methods were...unique sometimes. Crystal still tried to support them as much as she could, even if she had to spoil their dramatics sometimes.

“Ah. I see.” You nodded thoughtfully. Crystal was a level headed person. But you could tell she definitely had a fun side, too. “Follow my lead?”

After a smirk and a quick nod, you tried to act thoughtful for a second.

“I dunno. Ms. Robins is a real rule follower. It’s gonna be a hard sell to get her to bend the rules our way. I might need some incentive to help me want to risk getting caught.” And just like that you had a scheme of your own.

“What are you saying?” Michael, he said his name was, was eyeing you. It was pretty clear he didn’t trust you. It wasn’t your problem, but you figured you should try and look approachable as a new RA. After all, it was kind of your job.

“Just that. Like, if someone was to offer to buy me a coffee as a thank you, I would be much more willing to take part in your little scheme.” Luke, the young one, opened his mouth as if to deny your calling what they were doing a scheme. “Don’t even deny it, boyo. This is most definitely a scheme.”

The younger kid huffed out a ‘fine,’ easily defeated.

“Back to the matter at hand. What’s in it for me?” You smirked back at them, adrenaline buzzing through your veins.

You could have sworn you heard Kaykay mutter ‘a boyfriend.’

Sierra covered, not that you were sure anything was actually said. “Ashton has a car. He can take you to town and stuff.”

You made eye contact with Ashton, the one who allegedly had a car. It was a bit tempting. Really tempting. There was a coffee shop on campus, and you had a keurig in your room, but it was nothing compared to the taste of mass-manufactured Dunkin Doughnuts coffee. Plus, off campus meant no uniform. That was a win enough.

“Well, then. I think we have ourselves a deal.” You could already taste the coffee.

…

God, these kids were not slick. You were chatting with Ms. Robins about nothing in particular, not even broaching the subject of the study rooms. You knew Ms. Robins would bump one if you asked, but it was way more fun to do it the hard way. It was kind of funny to watch the little group you were with try to be slick and spy on the conversation without getting spotted, but not one of them was successful.

“Hey, is the room for RAs empty?” There was a study room set aside for RAs when they needed a break from the typical chaos on the floors of the dorms. You wouldn’t call it secret, per say, but you could agree that not well-known was a fitting term.

“Of course dear. It’s all yours if you want it. Do you need the key?”

You said no and thanked the kinder older lady. It was like you said, sometimes it was more fun to do it the hard way.

Everyone gathered around as you walked back to where Crystal and Ashton had been sitting and chatting.

“Bad news. Robins wouldn’t budge.” You sighed and leaned on the table suppressing a smirk. You had to draw them in first to have a big reveal.

“Damn.” Ashton swore under his breath.

“But…” You raised your finger and cocked your head, finally allowing a grin to cross your face. “I know a secret room.”

“A what?” You finally had Kaykay’s attention, at least. Probably the secret part of your sentence.

“A secret room. Follow.” The floor advisor study room was at the very end of the hallway and had the overhead light above the door flickering, which only added to the “secret room” illusion.

Michael reached the door first, shaking the older knob, which did not open. It was locked, after all. “What now?”

They all looked at you expectantly, but you had come prepared.

“Step aside, peasants.” You whipped out your student I.D., sliding it into the gap between the door and the frame. With a quick swipe and twist of your wrist, the door opened with a click.

Sierra looked like she could hug you, Luke was already in the room, and Michael nodded his head approvingly. Ashton and Kaykay both gave you a high five, though.

“You gotta teach me how to do that!” Kaykay was practically beaming at you, as if you were the coolest person she knew.

“Uh, no. There’s no telling what you would do with that knowledge.” Crystal crossed her arms, but she winked at you as she crossed the threshold into the room.

“Alrighty. Kaykay and I have to get a move on lest we want to run laps til we puke. Enjoy don’t destroy kiddos.” You shut the door behind you and Kaykay, grinning at your little rhyme.

…

“So?” Sierra was excited, and for good reason. She was right. You were perfect, both in general and for Hood.

“Alright, Si, you got me. She’s pretty cool.” Michael was letting his features transform to a smile, ready to hear out the rest of Sierra’s plan. It was official. He was now an accomplice.

“I like her. She’s...fun.” Ashton was studying the corners of the room, finding it up to his posh standards. There was no way this was just a “secret hidden” room, but he didn’t particularly care to give up their new friend’s ruse. “But I’m with Crystal. I’m not going to be a willing participant.”

Sierra gave him her best puppy dog eyes. She had already planned up to step twelve of your and Hood’s relationship, and they would need Ashton’s help if they wanted to get past step five.

“Fine. I will not be an active participant.” They were relentless. Ashton knew that if he didn’t agree now, he’d end up caving later. Might as well agree now on his own terms.

“I think she’s cool. You don’t meet very many people who know how to pick locks any more. Hey, did you guys know that that specific type of lock is actually-” Luke was starting to spiral into obscure facts, as he did sometimes.

“Good, so we're all in agreement.” Sierra was ready. It was time to tell everyone the first few steps of operation “lovebirds.”

The name was a work in progress.

….

You had been adopted. Well, in a way you were. The group from the library had adopted you as one of their own, but you had already adopted all of them as your children. Minus Crystal and Ashton, of course. They had also adopted the younger kids, Crystal in a maternal way and Ashton in an uncle sort of way. But a fun uncle.

You had been eating with them at meals, walking to and from the various buildings with each other, even turning the lounge you had broken them into into your own little hangout. It was kind of nice to be a part of their own little family.

That’s exactly what it was. A family. There was just one piece missing. The “dad”.

“Hood”.

Pretty much all the younger kids did was talk about him, making it clear that he was basically their dad. And that he was a “super cool person if you didn’t count the stick up his ass,” according to Kaykay. You had yet to find out his name. Well, his real name. Apparently, he was the RA to your own brother dorm in Lincoln house and you had still yet to meet him. He was clearly a huge part of this group, though. That just kind of added to your puzzling view of him.

He most definitely was a mystery.

Whenever you brought him up to the group, all they did was look at each other and do a poor job at hiding their smiles. You ignored it for the most part, though. If you were destined to meet Hood, you would. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t.

Still you couldn’t help but wonder about him. Who he was, what he watched on Netflix, what he looked like.

You were in fact thinking about these very things in your morning elevator ride up to your first class of the day. You were still kind of out of it, only on your second cup of coffee and still in your zombie mode.

But, you were awake enough to hear a voice calling out to stop the elevator. And lucid enough to stick your hand in the doors a second before the closed.

Into the elevator rushed a guy about your age, taller and definitely cute. His dark hair was kind of shaggy, but that only added to his appeal for you.

“Thanks.” His voice was deep, but still soft. If you were any more awake, you’d ask for his number.

“No problem.” Instead of laying on the moves, you resigned yourself to taking another long slurp of your coffee, relaxing back against the railing of the elevator.

“You, um, you have something in your hair.” You looked up at him, cocking your eyebrow. Of course you had something in your hair. With the cutest guy you've met at this school thus far staring at you. Yet again, the stranger burst into your thoughts. “Can I get it for you?”

“That’d be great. I’d hate to walk around looking like an idiot all day.” You gave him your most witty, charming smile as you turned to face elevator guy.

“Got it.” You gave him a smile in lieu of a thanks, trying not to embarrass yourself any further. It was unlikely, but hey, worth a shot. It was then elevator guy chose to mutter something under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” With all the muttering that was happening lately you were starting to contemplate getting your hearing checked. It’d be a worthy investment. You were under the impression that private school kids would be a bit more poised and able to speak a touch more clear. You were wrong yet again.

“Um, your hair smells nice.” Elevator guy was now a bright shade of red. Like a cute tomato. You looked down at your shoes, rolling your lips into your mouth but smiling. Yeah, definitely still smiling.

“Thanks.” You were smirking at him now. You kinda liked having all the power in the elevator, considering elevator guy looked like he was ready to die at any second now. “I’d repay the compliment but I’ve yet to catch a whiff of your shampoo.”

“I’m Cal.” He stuck out his hand, as if suddenly remembering he went to private school. A handshake, like you two were CEOs of companies or something. It was endearing. You took another sip of your coffee, maintaining eye contact, before you reached your hand out and joined it with his.

You had just finished the last syllable of your name when the elevator pinged, announcing your arrival on your floor. You walked out of the elevator without another word, knowing that Cal’s eyes were following you the whole time.

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thewriterfriends · 3 years

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BALLS, CERTAINLY NOT AT ANY COST

SardarSohan Singh and his family had shifted to Chandigarh. Suddenly, I had lost two close friends. Loss of company of Goga hurt me because suddenly my daredevilry and my pranks had come to a standstill because one needs a partner in such escapades. Anyone who has read the adventure blog will vouch for it. We didn’t need to read the books to plan our adventures but there’s no fun in them unless you have a partner if not many. Since Pali was elder to us and as I have said that he was different, he wasn’t our partner but his resourcefulness was important to our plans. He never questioned us why we needed what we asked him to get because he understood that the children have their needs and intrinsically they don’t like to discuss their projects or divulge the details to others who are not a party to their plans. That is because it entails a risk of a secret becoming an ‘open secret’ and parents have sharp ears and prying eyes. In addition to that, there are spies in the shapes of innocuous-looking young kids who you think have no interest in your games. Maybe, they are not interested in your games but they are the spies- real ears and the eyes of the parents. And if you think that you can buy their silence or their favour by bribing them with marbles, rare empties of cigarette packs, or even priceless pictures of the cricketers, then you are badly mistaken because they are the future voters and they are as shrewd as they come. They will take the bribe and still do what they set their mind upon. Though they also have many uses, like they can be ordered to do your bidding. They can be scolded for being sloppy and they serve as the best assistants when you need extra hands for executing an important task that requires extra hands. But they cannot be sent as emissaries to other peoples’ homes. Parents are as wary of it as they were when we were growing up although the world that we grew up in wasn’t as depraved as it is now. Still, it wasn’t as virtuous either, but then there were demons even the times of Lord Rama and Krishna too. Parents didn’t like their children to go to the homes of the people not know to them and going to the homes of the strangers or talking to them was prohibited.

I wasn’t gifted like Pali in devising methods for acquiring balls nor was I as daring, but after his family left Shimla the tough task of arranging the balls fell upon me because I was the Captain of the Mohalla team and as they say, the show must go on, the game couldn’t be given up. We thought of pooling our pocket money but “Takkas” that we got as daily allowance didn’t add up to much even if the contributions were continued for months. I decided to ask the team members to get donations from their parents like the school authorities would ask us to get from them whenever floods or famine, hit some part of the country.

We knew how they grumbled, winced, and protested but they paid. So, I lectured to my teammates,

“Parents are habituated to throwing tantrums. ”Abusing, cursing, scolding and saying ‘No’ at the outset is essential to good parenting I said, but obstinacy on part of the children, their persistent, steadfastness, whining often pays. I said, “If necessary, you can shed some crocodile tears too. “Try whatever you may have to do, but by next Sunday, if you want to continue to be the part of this team whose popularity is on the rise, you must get a contribution of five rupees each.” “This is the minimum that you should accept from them and because they tend to bargain, start by asking a higher amount, so that it may appear to them that you are grumblingly agreeing for five, but don’t agree for anything less than this.”

“We will start by buying a new ball and then add on other important gear like pads and guard etc.” I said, “The reputation of the team depends on how well it is equipped and the word spreads like wildfire.” “The team that has started getting requests for being played against from as far off places as Lower Kaithu is knocking at the doors of the state-level authorities for recognition and I am sure that some of you budding players will get included in the Ranji Trophy team of Shimla whenever our glorious town gets a chance for having its team and is asked for sending a team for inter-state matches.”

I saw the smiles spreading on all the young faces looking up at me. Their eyes were shining with hope but when my eyes fell on their Hawaichappals and tattered shoes, my own hope fell. However, my confidence in our ability to reach the pinnacle of glory in that quaint Himalayan town soared as if propelled by my own words in our praise. Our team comprised of the boys from the middle class and the poor strata of the society but they were inducted purely on merit. Even Khushal Chand the son of Jiya Lal, who cleaned our toilets was a proud member of our team. I didn’t hear from the teammates about how their struggle for getting five rupees, a formidable sum in those days, was going with their parents as I had my own battle to fight, until Sunil confronted me one day. Sunil was my classmate. He is a member of this group and sometimes reads my posts and may read this too. I don’t know if he remembers it or not. His younger brother, Kapil was one of my teammates. (I heard from him some time ago passed away two years ago.)

“ Haanbhaibahutdehshatfailarakhihai tune.” Yes buddy, you have spread quite a scare, he said. I got his point and smiled. His brother must have been pestering the parents for money as the effect of my speech seemed to have affected him severely. I said, “The contributions are voluntary, not compulsory”, but I realized that making the team a star team of Shimla will be difficult, although it was a “star-studded” team, unfortunately, it was cash-strapped.

I hadn’t got any coaching in the game, but I was good at it or so I thought. Illusion about my own ability has been my driving force. Our neighbour Mr. Raj played for the A.G. office. Their team had a good reputation in the town. They played matches with other local teams on Sundays. I got a chance of playing as one of their team as he used to take me along wherever they played. I played against some teams at Annandale Ground and at BCS when we played against them. I was a young lad of 14-15 years of age and was increasingly becoming aware of the hormonal changes taking place inside me. One Mr. K- of A.G. office team told me that he had some old balls with him at home and he would be happy to give me those. Mr. Raj might have spoken to him about our constant need for the balls. I was delighted at his graciousness and agreed to visit his apartment for collecting those on the following Sunday.

I hard learned about some people being gay but the world still looked pretty safe to the children growing up in the last century. I shouldn’t be saying this with this degree of certitude because a thought of another incident that occurred a few years before this with me has come to mind. I will tell you about that some other time, but being gay is one thing and stalking and trapping the children for realizing one’s perversions is quite another thing. I didn’t know that there were wolves in sheep’s clothing. I reached his apartment at Lower Kaithu in the afternoon. It was a summer day and he opened the door in response to my knock after getting up from the bed, where perhaps he was taking the afternoon siesta.

The room was small and it was brilliantly warmed up by the sun as the side of the room facing the west had glass panes all over. After opening the door he went and sat on the bed again. As there were no chairs in the room, at least none in my sight, he asked me to sit on the bed. I don’t know if he had any chairs or they had been removed by him. He sat himself in the semi-reclining position with one arm resting on the knee of the leg drawn up while the other leg lay flat on the bed. What struck odd to me was that he was in his undergarments and he hadn’t chosen to put on Pajamas or pants after I entered the room. Though I was a young boy in my early teens, I had learnt enough about human anatomy through analogies drawn with the animals in the General Science books and nature had taught me some through raging testosterones in my testicles. This was fortified with a lot of other data collected in my head through the exchange of information with peers and friends. His sitting in the bed without even a Lungi certainly appeared as indecent behaviour to me.

He asked me if I had a girlfriend and whether I had done anything with her. That was a grey area. My knowledge was limited to hearsays and I could neither brag nor lie. I shook my head. I wasn’t sure about what and how to do, because I knew it wasn’t as simple as was made out to be in the General Science book with a male frog riding on top of the female and pressing her body. The details were sketchy and the scope of enlightenment was lost to us on the day it was being taught in the school by Mr. Hastir, because of the mischief played by Surinder on Upinder at the wrong time. But neither through the book and nor from the peers and friends had I learnt about the male wanting to do it with a male. I had the knowledge of a common cuss word “G&^*u” that we used liberally in the language spoken among the friends, but that was used for someone who was dimwit-stupid. It would be wrong on my part if I say that I was ignorant about it, but truthfully all I knew then was that this if done was more for the purpose of demonstrating brute force or instilling fear and drawing rather sadistic than carnal pleasures.

He put his hand around me and tried to draw me closer in an attempt to kiss me. I pushed him away. I was surprised to notice a stir in his underwear. A tiny drop had wet it too. I was not interested in any of this. Though there had been some attempts on me at some previous occasions, one of which I mentioned in my posts here, but to bargain my “Izzat” for getting some old cricket balls was a bit too much. I got up from the bed and moved towards the door. He realized that he had approached the wrong guy and so for making some amends, he broke into fake laughter and said, “ Bholetu, tebura mana laya” ( Bhole (Bhola Is my pet name)- you got offended). I didn’t answer. He got up and pulled out two old balls from the cupboard and gave them to me. I returned a fake smile, meaning that I will ignore all that happened between us and as a kind of payback for his goodwill gesture minus the largesse he wanted to give along with a set of those old used balls.

An interesting piece of text that I recently read in the book “Hilly Billy Elegy” about a sure test of finding if one was gay or not was told to the writer J.D. Vance by his grandmother when as a child he was overcome by a fear that he was perhaps gay because he had no girlfriend and his best friend was a boy and the..He say:-

I’ll never forget the time I convinced myself that I was gay. I was eight or nine, maybe younger, and I stumbled upon a broadcast by some fire-and-brimstone preacher. The man spoke about the evils of homosexuals, how they had infiltrated our society, and how they were all destined for hell absent some serious repenting. At the time, the only thing I knew about gay men was that they preferred men to women.

This described me perfectly: I disliked girls, and my best friend in the world was my buddy Bill. Oh no, I’m going to hell. I broached this issue with Mamaw, confessing that I was gay and I was worried that I would burn in hell. She said, “Don’t be a fucking idiot, how would you know that you’re gay?” I explained my thought process. Mamaw chuckled and seemed to consider how she might explain to a boy my age. Finally she asked, “J.D., do you want to suck dicks?” I was flabbergasted. Why would someone want to do that? She repeated herself, and I said, “Of course not!” “Then,” she said, “you’re not gay. And even if you did want to suck dicks, that would be okay. God would still love you.” That settled the matter. Apparently, I didn’t have to worry about being gay anymore. Now that I’m older, I recognize the profundity of her sentiment: Gay people, though unfamiliar, threatened nothing about Mamaw’s being. There were more important things for a Christian to worry about.

In the 1960s the verb sucking could only be understood in the pretext of sucking the nipples as a part of foreplay while indulging in the act with the legally acquired wife and that too with the lights off. I think it was not expected of them and was neither offered as a bonus by the consenting wives in gratitude to the husbands they genuinely loved. I doubt if there were such husbands who fitted the bill and the wives who were willing to please them in bed. At least until I was an active part of the productive society, I never heard of any such things from people I knew, but to think that such camaraderie existed between willing male partners was normal or will become normal somewhere down the line was beyond the imagination of a straight kid who had been brought up in a conservative town tucked in the Himalayan hills.

As an Indian, it is impossible for me to think that such a conversation can take place between any members within the family and I can’t even imagine that any elder can be approached for alleviating such fears and of all the people a grandmother can speak such words to a child of nine years of age. Maybe it can happen in American homes only. Now when the whole world is becoming sensitive to the needs of LGBTs, perhaps the parents can broach subjects with the children but back in the 1960s, I wonder how such people came to terms with their singularities.

#adventure blog

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fernwehbookworm · 5 years

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Woke the F*ck Up- Chapter 21

April 5th, 2018

“All right everyone! That’s it. Make sure to drink water and walk around a bit because that was an intense forty-five minutes. Remember, next week is Spin with a Friend and your friend gets in for free. Please pre-register, it fills up fast.” Kara calls after her escaping class. She smiles at their exhausted faces, knowing that despite the complaints, that almost all of them would be back for the next class. She hops off her own bike and begins toweling off the sweat from her arms, neck, and stomach.

“Hey, Coach K!” Kara jumps at the bright voice of the woman standing a little too close.

“Hey, Amanda. What can I do for you?” Kara asks her. She was a regular at her gym since the beginning.

“Well, I’ve been coming here for a while and I…” Amanda trails off, biting her lip and glancing away.

“What is it, Amanda? Is something wrong?”

“No! No. I was just wondering if maybe you would like to… Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh, umm… well…” Kara was caught completely off guard.

“Forget it. It’s stupid. I should go.” Amanda hikes her bag higher on her shoulder, face beet red. Kara catches her wrist to keep her from running away.

“I’m sorry Amanda. I am so flattered. Really. I am just not in a good place right now.” Kara tries to let her down gently.

“Right. I saw the tabloids, I just didn’t realize they were true.”

“They aren’t,” Kara says tersely, but she sees the hurt in Amanda’s face.

“I’m sorry. As you can see, it’s very complicated, and it wouldn’t be fair to you at all.”

“I get it, Kara. It’s fine. Just thought I’d shoot my shot. Seems I missed.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says.

“Please, there is nothing to apologize for.”

“Still, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll see you around Kara.” Amanda touches Kara’s shoulder before leaving the room. Kara exhales. Amanda was a sweet woman, but, if Kara was honest, she felt her and Lena were becoming something and as long as there was that hope, no one could change Kara’s heart. Kara grabs her gym bag and heads to let her employees at the front that she should be in her office. Then she heads down to see if Winn has anything new.

“Nothing. Nada. Zippo.” Winn says in lieu of a greeting. Kara sighs and sits next to him.

“Where could she be?”

“An Alternate Universe?”

“I think that would be easier to find,” Kara says, rubbing at her temples. Kara’s phone begins to ring.

“It’s Lena,” Kara tells Winn, heading over to her living space to answer it from the comfort of her couch.

“Hey, Lee.”

“Hey, Kara. Just taking a break from recording. I was wondering if you had any news?”

“Ugh no. Nothing new. Hows that banjo going?” Kara can practically hear the eye roll.

“Wonderfully. It turned out better than I thought. Sam is still skeptical. But don’t change the subject. You really have nothing?”

“We just can’t find her. It’s like she has disappeared. Wherever she is, it doesn't exist.”

“I’m sorry Kar, I wish I could help. Besides the kidnapping, I haven't spoken to my mother since before Lex… Wait. Doesn't Exist. I have an idea.”

“What is it, Lee?”

“Luthor Mansion.”

“I’m sorry. Did you say mansion?”

“Yes. My father’s family were upper class in Scotland. Then my great-grandfather came over to the New World, giving up his inheritance. He barely scraped by, dying and leaving my grandfather an orphan. He spent his life being a petty thief. Rumor is he got in with the wrong crowd and committed murder before he and my grandmother died in a fire. Lionel basically built himself an empire from those ashes and the insurance claim. When Lionel had the money, he bought out what was left of the Luthor family in Scotland, then, just because he could, he had the family mansion shipped over, brick by brick, and meticulously reconstructed here. Well, right outside of Smallville.” Lena pauses as Kara absorbs these new facts about Lena’s family.

“Okay. So what are you getting at?”

“That mansion, is on a huge property, most of it undeveloped forests. All off the public record. Also, my father installed cloaking devices around the actual mansion so it is obscured to satellites. Basically, it doesn't exist.”

“Wait, so, your family has a secret mansion and this is the first I’m hearing of it?”

“Well, I haven't been since I was a child, and it went to Lex after Lionel died. It should go to me after his trial. But until then, well I haven't thought about it since I was ten. Once the Smallville Luthor Factor was closed, Lionel didn’t want to go back.”

“Thank you, Lee. We will check it out. Are you coming back for the trial?” Kara hears Lena sigh.

“I don’t know. I’ve been asked to testify. It's just hard, and I feel...confused.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be there to help you through this. But he is still your brother, it is okay to be sad. Talk with Sam to work through it. Even if you don’t go to the trial, maybe you would still be willing to come to this side of the pond?” Kara asks hopefully.

“If I’m not going to the trial then I want to be as far from that courtroom as possible. I’ll let you know though.”

“Okay. I’ll call you if Winn finds anything on the Luthor Mansion.”

“Please do. I want my mother caught just as much as you do. I’ll text the coordinates. Bye, Kara.”

“Goodbye Lee.”

Kara walks back over to sit with Winn, her phone dings with coordinates from Lena. She fills Winn in on what Lena told her and he plugs the coordinates into his system. It takes a moment for the maps to load. Kara waits in tense silence. This is the closest they had come. Disappoint sweeps through her as an image of treetops fill the screen.

“Well, You did say there was cloaking. Give me a few minutes.” Winn’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed lines of code. A lot of things happened that Kara didn’t really understand. But then, suddenly, it was like layers being stripped away and there was a sprawling roof nestled between the pines.

“There it is!” Kara exclaims. Winn flinches away from the sudden outburst.

“I’m going to work on getting live imagining. But that’s going to take longer. Maybe go set some arrangements because if you want to get there by tomorrow you should leave as soon as possible. I don’t think you should fly because you’ll need all your equipment. Smallville is pretty far away.”

“Your right. I’ll be back soon.”

After an hour, Kara has contacted her manager and assistant manager to cover her shifts for a small bonus. Making excuses to her employees about going to Metropolis to hunt for possible expansion location for the gym. Which technically was true because Winn was already in contact with a realtor there. Then Kara went out the front door to grab her bike before getting food for her and Winn and returning to their secret entrance. She plopped the breakfast burritos in front of him as his eyes stare intently at the screen. Kara looks at what he is staring at, confused at the red moving dots overlaying the image of the house.

“Okay, so I may have acquired access to a couple of different satellites. This is thermal imaging, each red blob here is a person. It looks like there are at least fifteen men patrolling. This one here, that one hasn’t left that area so I think that may be Lillian. It’s hard to tell without any schematics of the building. You will be going in practically blind.”

“I still have to go. If there is a chance that Lillian is in that house, I need to put an end to it.”

“Okay. I do have a new toy for you. In your mask, I installed new lenses, they can switch to thermal to help you see through walls. That should give you an advantage in unknown territory.”

“Thanks, Winn! Okay, I’m going to finish my food and go.”

“Shouldn’t you bring Alex in on this?”

“Not yet. If I tell her now she will pull the federal card and forbid me to go, then they will cause a standoff and I just know that Lillian will slip away again. I’ll call her on the way so I can have a head start.”

“Okay. I’ve programmed the fastest route into your motorcycles computer.”

“Where would I be without you Winn?” Kara stands and squeezes his shoulder as she scarfs down the rest of her burrito. She heads to change out of her work out clothes and pack her suit into the bike.

“Probably dead.” Winn mumbles, but Kara doesn’t hear it.

April 6th, 2018

“And why the hell didn’t you call me before you left?” Alex yells into the phone

“Because you would have told me to stand down,” Kara replied calmly, zipping up her jacket, black instead of her normal red and blue, and fixing her mask into place. She was still in the cover of the woods surrounding the house, driving up as close as she could without risking being heard. She would go the rest of the way on foot.

“You’re damn right. Do not go in there. I am taking a helicopter to our metropolis branch and I’ll be there in three hours. Their assault team is already assembling to move as soon as I get there.” Kara could hear helicopter blades start to kick up in the background. Alex was moving fast.

“Sorry, sis. I’m already here. I can’t risk her escaping again. I already tried it your way and she escaped. Now I’m trying my way.”

“Ugh, Kara! Do not-”

“Sorry!Can’tHearYouOverTheSoundOfTheHelicoptor.Bye!” Kara rushes out and hangs up, cutting her sister off. She will pay for that later.

Kara set off in the direction of the mansion and called Lena.

“We think we have her. I’m headed to the mansion now. Satellite imaging shows sixteen people inside.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to let you know before I go in.”

“Please tell me you aren't going in alone to take on sixteen people.”

“Alex is on her way,” Kara says in a slightly higher pitch than normal.

“And are you waiting on her?”

“No…”

“Kara…”

“I’m sorry. I can’t risk it. I can’t let her get away again. What if…” Kara trails off.

“She kidnaps me again?”

“I can’t risk it. I need to end this. Today.”

“You aren't going to…” Lena says slowly.

“Oh, no! That’s why I called Alex. The authorities can take care of the justice. I just want to make sure she can’t escape again.”

“Please, be safe.”

“I will.”

“Good.” A moment of silence and then the line disconnects. Kara takes a deep breath before dialing Winn.

“Overwatch at your command PG.” Kara rolls her eyes.

“I’m half a mile out. Anything new?”

“No, it’s all the same. Patrols look like they are pretty well spaced out, three circling the outside the rest are inside. From what I’ve timed out, they will change shifts in an hour.”

“Copy that.”

Kara reaches the tree line and watches from the shadows in the fading light of day. The patrols were regularly spaced which would give Kara an opening to take them out. She slips from the tree line and into the shrubbery surrounding the imposing building, behind one man and before the next rounds the corner. She lets the first man go. When the second man is close enough, Kara lunges out, covering his mouth and injecting him with Winn’s Night-Night Serum. The Man collapses on Kara and she drops him in the bushes. She does the same thing twice more, knocking each man unconscious as they made their rounds. Then she slips into the window and into a vacant room on the first floor.

She turns on the thermal imaging and begins assessing what to do next. She is in a room stacked with boxes, it all looks like its stuff that has been stored away for several years. From what she could tell, there were five men on this floor, five on the second, and six faint signatures on the third floor. She turns it off, the different colors throwing her off. Everything is dark and quiet, except for the muffled sound of boots passing outside the door. Kara listens intently. She hears the man turn at the end of the hall and start back towards the door. Quickly, Kara gets to the door and cracks it open, the moment she sees the man’s back, she springs out and injects him. He goes limp immediately and Kara drags him into the storage room. She shuts the door behind herself and enters the elegant hallway. An expensive lush carpet runs across the deep mahogany floors. Art lines the walls, painting and vases and tapestries. All of it was cast in shadows and made uncertain shapes in the dark.

Just before she rounds the next corner, Kara hears the next man and ducks behind a pedestal and knocks the man out from behind again using another syringe. She lays him in the shadow against the wall and continues on. Trying to take out each man as she goes without raising an alarm. Soon the first floor is clear and she finds stairs tucked away in a corner, old servants stairs she assumes, to do the same on the second floor. Dust seems to cover most surfaces that are not covered in white sheets. The mansion had not been lived in a long time. Kara gets to the next floor using the servant stairs again. The third floor poses more of a problem. Kara can see lights are on and when she cracks the door, the rest of the doors in the hallway are open. It is most definitely being used as the main living space. Kara hears two deep voices talking and quickly shuts the door again without making a noise.

Kara turns back on the thermal imaging. One man is lying prone in what Karra assumes is a bedroom. Two guard the door right outside the servant's door and two are patrolling the long hall. Kara definitely not in a good position to take each of them out. The last heat signature is sitting bent over a desk behind the guarded door. Lillian. Kara is trying to think, going over her mental map of what she has seen so far to find a way without a major fight that would allow Lillian to slip away again. Winn beeps in on her comm.

“DEO is five minutes out. What should I tell Alex?” Kara chews her bottom lip, thinking.

“Have them come in the front. That should pull the guards off the door and I can grab Lillian before she has a chance to go anywhere.”

“Copy that.”

So Kara waits. It feels like an hour but she knows it really is minutes. Suddenly, a crash echos through the building. Shouting and indistinct chatter reaches Kara’s ears. Through the thermal, she sees one of the men reach for an ear.

“Alpha team, come in. Alpha! Beta team! Shit. You go hold them off. I’ll get Ms. Luthor out of here.” Kara hears. The second man nods and raises his gun, moving with towards the commotion with the others. Kara sees her opening. She turns off the thermal and opens the door.

The man had turned to open the office door. He saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. His hand flies up to his trigger but Kara is faster. She kicks his hand away and hears the small snapping of fingers breaking. He cries out but grabs a knife from his tactical vest with his good hand, swinging it at Kara. Kara doges to the side, grabbing the extended and twisting it until the shoulder dislocates. Then she drugs him and allows him to slump to the floor. Gunshots ring out behind her and Kara fights off the worry for her sister as she opens the door to the office. She sees a frantic Lillian packing papers into a suitcase.

“Henshaw, we have to go now. Radio the helicopter.”

“Your sorry excuse for a bodyguard is unconscious,” Kara says, leaning against the door frame. Lillian’s head jerks up and every muscle tenses.

“How did you get in here?” She asks cooly, slowly continuing to put the papers away.

“A window.” Kara shrugs.

“And how did you find me?”

“Your daughter. She wants you behind bars as much as I do.”

“She has always been a disappointment.”

Kara laughs then. She laughs at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Lena is the only Luthor not in jail or dead.”

“I’m not in jail,” Lillian states, still rummaging about her desk. Kara hears the tactical team coming down the hallway.

“You will be soon. Those gunshots are a government assault team on their way here to arrest you.”

“I don’t think so.” Lillian pulls a gun and shoots before Kara can react. The impact hits her shoulder and nearly knocks Kara off her feet. Kara pulls her Night-Night gun and fires.

“Shit, that’s going to hurt later.” Kara rubs her shoulder to make sure her jacket is still in one piece. Kara silently thanks Winn for his genius, both for the suit and the sleep serum. She slumps back against the door frame.

“Kara!” Alex yells as she sees Kara hunched over. Boots pound down the corridor and suddenly her sister’s face appears before her. She was in full tactical gear, gloved hands cupped her face turning her from side to side, then checking down her arms and looking for bullet holes. Kara silently points to the wood frame where the bullet ricocheted and embedded itself.

“Don’t worry. Nothing broken. No bleeding.” Kara manages.

“Is she…?” Alex nods towards where one of her men is inspecting Lillian.

“Asleep. Wi- Overwatch’s Night-Night gun. There are three men outside, and five on each the first two floors also.” Kara says, aware of the DEO agents milling about as they wait for Alex to take command.

“And you are sure you are fine? Just the bruised shoulder?”

“Yes. I am fine.”

“Good,” Alex says. Then she punches Kara, hard, in her bad shoulder.

“Fuck! What was that for?” Kara grabs her shoulder.

“For not waiting. You make me so mad sometimes. And worried. And mad. Now go. Get out of here before you completely ruin my crime scene. I’ll see you back in National City.”

“And you will personally put her behind bars?” Kara asks.

“Yes. This is finally over.” Alex says. Kara sighs out in relief and stands up, wincing in pain. She pats her sister on the shoulder and walks away.

“Overwatch?”

“Yeah, PG?”

“Call Lena for me and patch her through. I can’t reach my phone in the hidden pocket right now.”

“Of course. Give me a moment.” Kara hears a beep and the dial tone.

“Kara?” Lena asks.

“It’s over. The DEO is taking your mother into custody.”

“It’s really over?”

“Yes, Lee. Alex is not leaving her side. She won’t be getting away this time.” Silence from the other end. Then Kara is sure she hears a muffled sob.

“Lee?” she says softly.

“I-I’m sorry. I d-didn’t realize h-how relieved I-I would f-feel about t-this. It’s l-like a weight has b-been l-lifted off my chest.” Lena stutters out between sobs. Kara hears a couple of deep breaths.

“Thank you,” Lena says softly.

“You're Welcome. She needed to be stopped. Now, call Sam. I don’t want you alone right now.”

“Y-yes. You’re right. I’m calling her now. Thank you again, Kara.”

“Goodbye Lee, I’ll see you soon.” Kara hears the beep of Lena hanging up as she sneaks out the back door. The front of the house being flooded with DEO agents.

“Overwatch?”

“Back yard is clear. Do you want to come straight back or would you like me to get you a hotel room?”

“I’m just coming back. I’m tired but I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“Copy that.”

April 7th, 2018

Kara rummaged in her freezer for anything cold to put on her shoulder. It was an ugly black and purple blotch. She settles on the bag of frozen vegetables wrapped in a towel. Kara slumps on her couch, wincing slightly at chill before sighing in relief. She props her feet up on the coffee table and turns on the news. The story had broke about Lillian’s arrest and now was plastered on almost every outlet; newspapers, television, internet sites, magazines. Kara watched different news anchors argue about everything involved in it, from Cadmus to crime rates to Powergirls involvement. Some debated whether or not the arrest was even legal. Kara scoffed at that.

A quick knock on the door precedes an exhausted-looking Alex. She throws her keys on the counter and her jacket on a stool before flopping down next to Kara. Alex pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes. Kara just watches her sister, waiting for her to say whatever is on her mind.

“I am still mad at you,” Alex says without looking at Kara.

“I know. But I am not sorry.”

“You could have been killed.”

“Please. That was the easiest infiltration I have had with Cadmus. Lillian relied too much on the houses invisibility to up the security. Although I am pretty sure she was nearly out of money.”

“You’re right. She wasn’t able to destroy her files. From what we gathered, she was lying low until she gathered more investors. We are still decrypting some emails of potential co-conspirators. Also, Lillian had a database with her network but that may take a few days also. Seems you surprised her.”

“Yeah,” Kara says quietly. They both watch the news for a bit.

“I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Kara says softly.

“I know, me too. But Lillian is on a constant rotating guard of the most classified agents. Each will be debriefed after every shift with at least three days in between. She won’t be able to buy or blackmail anyone. She is in isolation with zero human contact at a DEO black site. We have torn that mansion apart and seized everything. It’s over.”

“I hope so,” Kara says. Alex pats her knee.

“How’s the shoulder?” Alex asks. Kara removes her makeshift ice pack to show the unsightly blemish. Her sister winces in sympathy.

“Yeah, it may not be so bad if someone hadn’t punched me right after being shot.” Kara elbows Alex in jest.

“Well someone wouldn’t have been shot if they waited for back up.” Alex shoots back with a raised eyebrow.

“Touche. I’m still not sorry.”

“I don’t expect you to be. But what will you do now? Now that Cadmus is being dismantled and Lex and Lillian will hopefully rot in jail until their last breath.”

“I don’t know. Power Girl, she was everything. She made me feel complete in a way that I haven't since Jeremiah’s death. But now, this gym Winn and I have built, its something. It’s going to be something. I feel like maybe I should dedicate my time to that. Vigilantism is not something I can grow old in. One day, someone could get lucky. No matter how many precautions I take. I saw that when Lillian nearly killed me all those months ago, but I couldn’t walk away from it then.”

“As your big sister and your best friend, I support you in any decision. But also, I worry about you every day. It would make me feel so much better if you didn’t put your life at risk every day.”

“Says the federal agent.” Kara shoots back.

“Hey, mine is not every day. And actually, my director, J’onn, he wants to start training me to take the position of Director. Which means it will be less field work.” Alex says. Kara squeals and hugs her sister.

“That is amazing! But don’t you love being in the field?”

“I do. But, I have been doing a lot of thinking and I need to make new steps in my life. Being director will help regulate my hours, no long steak outs, or cross country jaunts. I have done a job I love for a long time, but I think I want something more now.” Alex squeezes her sister's hand.

“What is that?”

“Love, a wife, maybe even a family. I mean the whole reason Maggie and I broke up was our different view on kids. I want that. I want to raise a little girl and take her to karate class at your gym. I want to teach her to drive and how to break out of handcuffs. But I can’t do that if I’m staring down the barrel of a gun every other day.”

“I want that for you too. Guess I need to work on adding some children’s classes. Oooh, or how about ‘Kara’s Kids Corner!’” Kara stands, excitedly emphasizing the title with her hands. Alex laughs and pulls her sister back down to the couch with her.

“Okay, goober. Sit down. That would be wonderful. But that is a long way down the line. I also want to find love.”

“What about Sam? I mean I know you guys saw each other a couple of times. And you seemed very happy, as happy as you were with Maggie, I think.” Kara asks.

“We did have fun. But the distance isn’t exactly feasible.”

“Fine, but I know you’ll find love. Oh, what about Vasquez?”

“What? No! First, she has a girlfriend. Secondly, she is technically my subordinate and that is just weird and against policy.”

“I’m not giving this up. I’ll be the best wing-woman ever.”

“What about you?” Alex asks, Kara hesitates, just long enough to be saved by the delivery guy knocking on the door.

“Who knows? I’m just taking my life one day at a time.” Kara gets up to grab the cash and relieve the teenage worker of the large amount of food.

“So what are we watching tonight?” Kara changes the subject before her sister could pry further.

April 11th, 2018

Kara dropped the man off the edge of the roof; his cry, muffled by the gag, cuts short as the rope is yanked taught just above the nondescript car. She hears a faint cry from the occupant and the woman emerges on a mass of wild hair and cursing. She casts about before looking up at the hooded figure above her, illuminated by the full moon.

“Good Evening, Detective Sawyer. It’s been a while since we spoke face to face.” Kara greets, voice modulator distorting her voice. The detective crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

“Power Girl; it’s more like face to mask. At least you didn’t dent my cruizer this time.”

“Live and learn.” Kara shrugs.

“So is this what you're doing now? Hog-tying low-lifes?"

“Cadmus is almost completely dismantled. Think of me as an exterminator, killing off the roaches that got away and squirmed into the cracks and crevices of the city. We don’t need anyone trying to fill the power vacuums.” Kara takes half a step forward, plopping down on the edge of the two-story building, allowing her feet to dangle over the detectives head.

“So how am I supposed to book this guy?” Maggie pokes the man, causing him to swing and protest through the gag.

“Three ounces of cocaine in his breast pocket. The gun in his waistband matches a homicide from two weeks ago. Oh, and he is high right now. Take your pick.”

“Well don’t you know how to treat a girl,” Maggie says, getting into her cruiser and putting on rubber gloves to pat the man down and bag the evidence.

“What can I say? I’m a pleaser. Are you good?” Kara asks, indicating the swinging man. Maggie nods.

“I bet, too bad blonde is not my type.” Maggie puts the evidence in her car.

Kara pulls out one of her knives and easily slices through the thick rope. The man hits his head the side of Maggie’s hood before hitting the ground, knocking him unconscious.

“Ah, come on. I just got this car.” Maggie complains.

“Sorry Detective. Guess my aim was a little off.”

“Dent my car again and you better hope my aim is off,” Maggie says, only half joking. Kara laughs and gets back to her feet.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Kara turns to go.

“Power Girl!” Maggie calls out.

“Thank you, thank you for making this city safer again.”

“This is my city too, Detective. I couldn’t sit by anymore. Cadmus has hurt people I care about. At least now it’s almost over.”

“What will you do when it is over?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m just taking my life one day at a time.” Kara jumps off the ledge and runs across the roof into the night.

“Wait! How am I supposed to get him in the car!” Maggie cries after her, getting no response.

“Good luck, Kara.” Maggie whispers.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #Singer #Vigilante #au #Fanficion #WTFU

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archaeopter-ace · 6 years

Text

The Girl in the Mirror

Day 3 - Mirror or Masquerade @talesofarcadiafemslashweek Aja/Shannon (Shanaja) wordcount: ~2k Rated: PG

(Quick note: the reason Aja uses she/her for herself and he/him for Krel is an artifact of imperfect translation. Akiridians don’t have genders as we’d understand them, so their use of gendered terms like ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ really just reflect that the Akiridian language has more than one word for ‘sibling,’ and that Aja and Krel use different terms for each other.)

Aja washed her hands slowly at the row of sinks in the school bathroom - she was not eager to get back to English class. It was, by far, her least favorite class. There were so many assumptions made, so many fundamentals her classmates had spent years learning, comparisons being made to other books that everyone else had already read.

She was forever thankful that she and her brother had Universal Understanding, that the technology had been acquired by her people in trade with the Babelpisces several generations ago. It was essential for interplanetary negotiations, and, now, to analyze eyeball symbolism in The Great Gatsby.

Aja turned off the sink, taking a moment to examine her features in the mirror. She did not know when she would get used to her fleshy human appearance, but she hoped it would be soon. She poked her nose, moving it from side to side, opened her mouth to look at her teeth. She was a girl now, apparently, whatever that meant.

All she knew for certain was that it meant using certain pronouns and not others. Akiridian pronouns did not, so far as Aja could tell, correspond to gender, but she was still a little unclear on what ‘gender’ was, and had been racking her brains - a funny human idiom - to see if she could think of an Akiridian equivalent.

On Akiridian-5, a person’s pronouns told you a lot about them - their approximate age, social rank, and sometimes even area of expertise. They had over a dozen third-person pronouns, but it was easy to know which one to use because they also had a over a dozen corresponding first-person pronouns. In Arcadia, everyone was “I” this and “I” that - it was honestly one of the most startling things about being human, how the same everyone seemed.

Aja and Krel used the royal pronouns for first born and second born, respectively. Krel had once confided in her that he had toyed with the idea of using an engineer’s pronouns, but ultimately his sense of duty to the crown won out. That, and their parents would have thrown a fit if they had known.

Aja had not told Krel that she sometimes disguised herself and used artisan pronouns when she went to the skeltag pits to watch the fights.

(Neither of them had quite gotten the hang of the new king- and queen-in-waiting pronouns they should now be using.)

Mother had implied that gender was a social rank modifier when she said that Aja would be overlooked if she were a girl - Aja had, at the time, assumed it meant something like the suzinx, those who moved unobtrusively through the palace - but Aja was unsure how true that was since Krel was less girl than she was but he was more ignored. (Possibly Aja was just exceptionally bad at blending in and lying low.)

Aja had yet to reliably identify who was and was not a girl in daily life. At first she thought being a girl had to do with clothes, but she had given up on that idea after it turned up so many false negatives. It also had nothing to do with eye color or hair color or how much time they spent talking or whether they liked burritos.

Being a girl seemed to be positively correlated with hair length quite strongly, so that was her current working theory: the longer someone’s hair follicles, the more girl they were.

Aja had the longest hair of anyone she knew; she supposed that made her a full girl. Mary was a close second - 90% girl, maybe? Her best guess was that Krel was at least half girl, about the same as Claire. Aja had been momentarily stymied by the fact that Claire was apparently considered a girl while Krel was not, since both had shoulder-length hair, but then she realized that all the clips Claire added to her hair probably increased her girl quotient.

Aja was startled from her introspection by the sound of rushing water behind her. Shannon stepped out of a stall and blinked at Aja, offering her a tentative grin, before she moved over to the row of sinks.

(Splitting hairs into clumps seemed to have a similar effect as adding clips, because Shannon’s hair looked like it might be shorter than Krel’s but she was also a girl.)

She looked on in curiosity as the other girl washed her hands - Aja quickly realized that she’d forgotten to use any soap, and hurried to correct her mistake, washing her hands a second time while carefully imitating the human’s motions.

“Oh!” A flash of color had caught her eye, and she abandoned her own sink to try to get a better look, reaching over with the intent to pull Shannon’s hands from the faucet for closer inspection - but the girl eeped and jerked her hands away. “Sorry, sorry.” Aja held up her dripping hands in apology. “I was just admiring your colorful fingers. How did you do that?”

“You mean my nail polish?” She finished rinsing the suds off, revealing dark blue fingernails that seemed to shimmer in the light. For some reason her face got very red, like Aja had seen on some humans in gym class when they breathed in and out more than usual. “You, you like it? um.”

“Yes, very much! Very lively!”

“Oh, thanks.” Her face got even redder, and Aja started to grow concerned. “Um, I could - I could do your nails for you sometime? If you want?”

Any color she added to her nails would not survive her transition back to her Akiridian form, but as she thought about what ‘doing her nails’ would entail, going to Shannon’s house and sitting down together, spending time with her, she decided that it didn’t matter to her that the finished product would not last longer than a day.

“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you! And oh! Maybe you could help me with a problem I have been having. Could you help me understand what a girl is, please?”

“You - you what?” Shannon sputtered, wide-eyed.

“We don’t have girls on Ak - on Cantaloupia. Being here is very confusing. I would like to learn to be a girl, please.”

“Oh, I thought you meant - nevermind what I thought.” Shannon looked at her for a very long time, the red color slowly fading from her face. Aja was not sure what she was looking for, though she had an inkling.

She tried to reassure her, “I know my hair is tucked up right now, but I promise you, it is definitely long enough to be a girl.”

Shannon’s expression seemed to… crumple, and she bit her lip. “Are you just… wanting to learn performative femininity because it’s expected of you?”

“Per-for-wha?”

“Sorry, my mom’s a therapist. I meant, do you just want to learn to act more like a girl because you think it’s expected of you?”

“I am supposed to do what people expect of me, it is part of being in hiding and remaining unnoticed. Ah, I mean…” Aja blanked on trying to explain away her slip-up, decided to ignore it and hope Shannon didn’t notice. “Yes, I suppose it is a little bit what you said. Mostly, I think I am just curious. I have been watching the television and there are many girl things I would like to try - like your fingernails! They are so colorful and lively! I would like to do that.”

Shannon still did not look satisfied with her answer. “You can do girl things without being a girl, that’s okay too.”

Not be a girl? Was that an option? “But I am a girl.”

“But you just told me you don’t know what a girl is!”

“Yes? What is yout point?” Aja was a girl now and that was why she needed to know what one was.

“Do you want to be a girl?”

“I… I don’t know. That is why I want to better understand what a girl is.”

Shannon rubbed at her temples. “Okay, okay, I think I understand. You’re exploring your gender identity, and you want to see if being a girl is right for you; is that about the gist of it?”

Aja did not particularly understand the question, but she thought she could guess at the answer. “Yes?”

Shannon nodded. “Okay, alright. Yeah, I’d be willing to coach you in girl stuff, hang out and show you the ropes. But, um,” she wrung her hands together, “while we’re being open and honest, I want to say that… I’vegotacrushonyou.” She immediately buried her face in her hands. “Argh, why did I say that?! Stupid Shannon, stupid.”

“Oh. Was it mistake to say that?” Aja cocked her head to one side.

Shannon peeked at her between fingers still firmly affixed to her face. “Do you…” she began hesitantly, “know what a crush is?”

Aja waggled her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture she learned from watching her classmates. “I have been observing hu-uh-hyour culture and I know it does not mean flattening someone with a zorkgast. I think,” Aja picked her words with careful deliberation, “it means the same as like-like, yes?”

“Yes.” Shannon removed her hands from her face, and drew herself up to her full height. “Aja. I think you’re cool and amazing, and I like-like you. Do you want to go out with me?”

Aja gave that some thought. She knew what ‘going out’ meant, and dating - she was a princess, she knew all about courtship. She had never expected to have the freedom to do so without political consideration, and it gave her a heady rush.

But it would be selfish to say yes just because she could, just because she wanted to learn what this girl could teach her, just because it sounded like an adventure. She could see that that would not be fair to Shannon.

And yet. Shannon was nice. She told funny jokes, and she carried extra pencils to loan to anyone who needed one. She read a lot of books that looked a lot more interesting than the books they had to read for class. Thinking about it, Aja realized she would like to spend more time with her, find adventure together, learn more about her and hopefully more about herself.

“Shannon,” Aja began, uncertain if she would be able to find the right words. “I like you too. I do not know if I like-like you - there is a lot I do not know, yet - but I am willing to find out, if that is okay.”

Shannon smiled softly at her, “Yeah, yeah that’s okay.” Suddenly she squealed loudly, “EEEEEEIH! Sorry, sorry, I’m just so excited, I couldn’t help it!” She glanced at the door, shifting her weight back and forth. “We’ll talk more later, yeah? We should really be getting back to class - Ms Janeth hates long bathroom breaks, she’s gonna give me the stink eye.”

“I do not think Mr. Clemens is all that fond of them either,” Aja admitted ruefully.

“Here,” Shannon pulled Aja’s arm towards her and fished a blue pen out of her pocket with her other hand. She wrote a string of numbers on the inside of her forearm. “Call me, yeah?” Her face had gone that funny red color again.

“Yes, I will!”

Aja felt lighter than she could remember feeling, the prospect of figuring her life out seemed less like a weight she had to bear and more like journey she could share, and she skipped her way back to class.

(Mr. Clemens was very unhappy with the length of time she had spent in the bathroom, and said she would not get any more bathroom breaks in class for the rest of the week, but Aja did not particularly care)

#tales of arcadia #toafemweek #trollhunters #aja tarron #shannon longhannon #shanaja #nb!aja #lookit me projecting my gender confusion all over the place #i have it on good authority that gender is def a thing that exists #but like what is it???#anyhoo this is also a reaction to so many fics i've read #(mostly concerning jotnar)#of alien races where everyone is the same gender #and therefore everyone uses they/them or the same neopronouns #that's so impractical!#take a page from other cultures and have *even more* pronouns available #wikipedia lists 17 first person pronouns in modern japanese #it's totally doable

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journeysintowebcomics · 5 years

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Worm Liveblog #100

UPDATE 100: Look the Other Way

Last time Coil made pretty clear he knows Skitter and Tattletale are scheming something, but he’s not too worried about it because he still has aces up his sleeve. Also, the night went on without Coil being targeted at all, but she did triumph in her intimidation mission, so all is well. For now. Let’s continue.

Ah, it’s Triumph and a ‘Sam’ person. Perhaps Sam is Prism and this is after Skitter defeated them? They’re in the hospital, after all. It’s possible this is the day after. How good to see Triumph is recovering from his near-death experience.

Okay, this definitely is later. They’re talking about how Sam was invited home to partake in a meal with the parents. They’re both taking rather well how Triumph almost died, I must say. While that’s good – not letting it drag them down – I did expect it to be mentioned right away in some way.

He also went to see Cache, who is still at the hospital being treated for the severe burns he has. He’s going to stay there for quite a while, I believe, and without Panacea or anyone else who can heal quickly, it’s bound to be a painful and uncomfortable stay. Poor guy, really. At least he’s alive.

Pretty common for us to go straight from here to our offices, and there were apparently issues with photographers taking pictures of heroes in wheelchairs as they left the hospital. Director Piggot arranged things this way for exactly this reason.

The need for PR makes this happen, of course. You can’t show a powerful hero in a vulnerable position such as being lugged around in a wheelchair. Heroes have to appear strong and almost invincible in order for the public to have trust on them. While a hero in a wheelchair will elicit sympathy, it won’t fit the PR the Protectorate wants, I think. That’s why they’re walking by themselves despite their injuries.

They encounter Ursa Aurora along the way, who immediately alerts them there’s trouble afoot. Oh boy!

“There’s an issue. Division in the ranks. Looking ugly.”

“The enemy?”

She shook her head. “Our guys. And it’s about you.”

Looks like Skitter and the rest of the Undersiders aren’t the only ones who are in a constant whirlwind of trouble! Interesting, there’s dissension about Triumph and Prism? They did nothing wrong during the fight, why would there be division in their ranks about them?

Prism is still injured, a consequence of landing on her side when Skitter dropped her from the roof. It also brings bad memories of an undetermined sort. Backstory, eh? Her backstory is that her father was a coach who strived to turn his sons and daughters into excellent athletes. You can’t be a good athlete without suffering injuries and lesions along the way, and Prism’s injury was a pretty bad one, one that forced her to quit. That brought all sorts of problems with her family. Being injured again is making her remember those times, where she had to rely only on herself and no one else.

They’d gone out as friends, first, because they both had similar backgrounds, and segued into a casual relationship. They had both been athletes, once upon a time. She was an ex-gymnast, he had been a baseball player. She’d triggered because of the aftermath of a career-ending injury. He’d acquired his powers because he’d been perpetually second place, doomed to miss his chance, a mere hair from a career in the major league.

He knew how devastating that stuff could be when you’d made the sacrifices, given up most of your adolescence to succeed at something, only to fall short.

Birds of a feather flock together, they say. Or something like that. While their trigger events don’t sound as traumatic as others, it’s pretty clear it must have involved a lot of suffering in some way. Emotional suffering is as harrowing as traumatic experiences. I wonder how their powers fit their trigger events – if they do, the powers don’t always fit.

He’d turned to his dad for help, and his dad had delivered a small vial that was supposedly designed to force a state equivalent to a trigger event, without the necessary trauma.

Oh, nevermind, he’s a Cauldron hero. Maybe Prism is one too.

Looks like there’s a discussions going. Some heroes are standing on one side, others on the other. Does that mean Miss Militia, Weld, and Kid Win are on the same side, while Assault, Clockblocker, Chariot and Vista are on the other? What are they talking about?

“-vigilantism!” Miss Militia’s voice was tight with barely controlled anger.

Jolly! Sounds like something fun.

Right away I can see Assault wants to be a vigilante, so could it be Clockblocker, Chariot and Vista want that as well? Kind of surprising Vista wants to. I can see Clockblocker and Chariot, but Vista kind of surprises me.

Obviously Miss Militia doesn’t approve vigilantism and is trying to dissuade them. Assault is the one who’s trying to argue they should make a quick, hard-hitting strike. Oh boy, if it’s against the Undersiders then for the sake of Dinah I hope this vigilantism attack happens after Dinah is free. I mean, I’m pretty convinced Assault and possibly others won’t stay their hand simply because Miss Militia frowns at vigilantism. There must be a confrontation sooner or later.

Also, since this is related to Triumph and Prism, I suppose Skitter’s intimidation was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Whoops! Could it be Coil saw this coming and decided to use some of the heroes’ vigilantism desires to get rid of Skitter? It would be quite the clever plan, and pretty difficult to counter.

“They attacked one of our own. Again,” Assault said. “And they broke a cardinal rule. They attacked family. You don’t unmask a cape, and if you happen to discover their secret identity, you don’t go after their family.”

It’s interesting how the honor system is a vital part of the heroes/villain relationship. It’s quite curious villains breaking this cardinal rule doesn’t happen often. I remember the ‘apprehend three times’ rule there is, and I suppose the Birdcage is quite the powerful deterrent. Now that Skitter presumably crossed a line, well, she has incurred in the heroes’ wrath.

Clockblocker cut in, “But we can assume she found out beforehand. Unless you’re going to suggest she figured it out on her own?”

Funny you would say that. That’s exactly what happened. They think Tattletale gave Skitter the information, which is rather plausible, yes.

Shatterbird being captured and Regent controlling people around are more proof the Undersiders are crossing lines. That happened long ago! Still, I can’t deny all that is pretty sketchy and makes the Undersiders seem even more dangerous, and they certainly can use that danger to their advantage.

“You’d be violating your probationary status on the team,” Miss Militia said, quiet. “Going against orders.”

“My joining the Protectorate was conditional on being on the same team as Battery,” Assault replied.

Ouch. That hurt more than I thought it would. He’s fueled by grief. I suppose he really believes the Undersiders are responsible for Battery’s demise.

Triumph can see Clockblocker is siding with vigilantism because Clockblocker is contrarian like that when it comes to authority’s orders, and Chariot is there because Coil wants dissension. Vista, though, is a surprise. She explains she’d like that because she’s tired of losing people, and lists the names. Those really are several names, six so far.

“You’re making it sound more complicated than it is,” Assault said. “I’m talking a quick, hard hitting strike against one of their territories. One of the master-classifications would be a good bet. I’d suggest Regent, but Shatterbird is too big a complication. Better to take out Hellhound or Skitter. Doing either would cut their tactical options down by a third, and it could gain us a hostage to leverage against the others.”

Honestly, Heckpuppy seems like the best option. She’s kind of predictable when it’s about attacking: she will do it and with all the force she can. Skitter is unpredictable and very versatile. They should stick with what’s safe. Buuuuuut I bet they will attack Skitter. She’s the protagonist, after all.

At least Miss Militia knows they would receive a retaliation and possibly lose. She knows how this goes, haha! In the end, Triumph sides with those who want to obey the orders to not attack. The discussion ends when Piggot says something. I bet Piggot heard everything.

There are visitors! A man and a woman. They enter, the woman removing her helmet and letting her face be seen. Triumph thinks she’s familiar, but it doesn’t seem like he can pinpoint who she is. The description doesn’t sound familiar either. The man, though, he seems to ring a bell more and Triumph is aghast.

“Dragon,” Miss Militia said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Dragon extended a hand, and Miss Militia shook it. “Likewise. Let me introduce Defiant.”

...ah. Well! I suppose Defiant is Armsmaster’s new name. Who is he defying? The Slaughterhouse Nine, or perhaps the Protectorate?

“Dragon and Defiant have stopped by to pick up resources and gather information before taking on a long-term mission,” the Director explained. “Would you like to explain?”

“The Nine,” Dragon explained.

Oh! Well, more power to them! I wish them the best of luck pursuing the Slaughterhouse Nine. Hopefully they manage to succeed! They already know stuff about how they operate and what they will do, so they certainly have prepared themselves well so far, and if Piggot has no objections about Armsmaster – Defiant from now on, I suppose – leaving his home imprisonment and Dragon having aided someone in his escape from home imprisonment, then everything is fine.

I do wonder why Piggot is okay with Defiant being free, though. Maybe she really liked the thought of the Slaughterhouse Nine being pursued.

This isn’t the first time heroes pursue the Slaughterhouse Nine and it has always failed. These two are more confident because Dragon will be able to go on 24/7, giving the Slaughterhouse Nine no chance to rest. I’m not sure, I think more than just not sleeping will be needed to be effective against them. She failed before because Shatterbird was there and I suppose Dragon’s silicone and technology would have been vulnerable to her power, but now! Now she has a partner, and Shatterbird is away!

By the way, it’s great the Undersiders have something to counter a rather relentless hero like Dragon. They’re somewhat safer than they would be otherwise.

Defiant modified himself to be almost as enduring as Dragon, much to Triumph’s horror, who says Defiant is a monster now. This also seemed to surprise others, like Miss Militia. I suppose such an extensive modification is unheard of, even among tinkers.

So yes, the reason why the PRT is okay with this is because they hope they will succeed, and I can’t avoid feeling they may also be thinking something along the lines of ‘and if they fail, well, we don’t have to imprison Armsmaster and Dragon because they will be dead’. Bureaucracy can be pragmatic like that. Not that the AI in charge of the Birdcage perishing in battle is good at all.

Miss Militia seemed to recover faster than anyone else. “That’s not the only issue the squads faced. There’s the psychological strain. Hunting a prey for days, weeks, months at a time? Especially targets that will commit atrocities if you let your guard down for a second? It gets to you.”

“I think,” Defiant paused, as if he had to pick the right words, “My single-mindedness will be an asset on that front.”

Single-mindedness is not a favorable trait at all. Not sure it should be encouraged. Still, given Defiant’s actions so far, and Dragon’s...you know, being an AI, I think the pursuit is not going to affect them that much.

Dragon now has nine very large suit models she can control remotely. They can aid in the pursuit of the Slaughterhouse Nine, and while they’re not operational, they’ll stay in Brockton Bay. Is this going where I think it’s going? Could it be Dragon will use them to try to protect the city in the meantime? Rather unlikely, given these suits are...rather large, if I’m reading correctly, but still!

They wish Defiant good luck in helping Dragon pursue those crazy mass murderers, and that’s when Triumph decides he can’t just stand aside anymore. Everybody is pretending Defiant is not Armsmaster. Either absolutely everybody except Triumph was fooled somehow – incredibly unlikely, this is a large group of people! – or everybody had agreed not to mention the topic, somehow. The second is likelier.

“If you have a valid concern about Defiant,” Director Piggot spoke, “I think it would benefit us all to hear it.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but she’d already raised her hand to stop him. “Rest assured, Triumph, if you were to allege criminal activity, we would arrest and detain him until a case could be made. We’d pull him off this wholly voluntary task and if your charges were serious enough, send him to the Birdcage. I suppose we’d have to adjust Dragon’s battle plan against the Nine, she would likely be forced to rethink her idea of having the suits stationed in Brockton Bay, so she was better able to defend herself.”

“I get what you’re saying.”

“I’m not saying anything, Triumph, only that you’re entirely free to speak.”

Really? I don’t know, with all that speech, it seems to me she’s actually trying to say something along the lines of ‘we already know, we’re not blind or stupid. We have worked on this plan for a while, here’s what would happen if you say something, so keep your mouth shut”. Nobody bothering to look at Triumph after that sure helps reinforce that Triumph should play along and do nothing.

“Just wanted to say that the guy’s got cojones,” Triumph said, with no emotion or inflection. “Taking on the Slaughterhouse Nine like that, being this new to the game.”

Ahaha, yes, that’s definitely what Triumph wanted to say. Totally. He sure isn’t happy about keeping his mouth shut about this, about letting Armsmaster to come back into the heroes after his actions, but there’s too much on the balance to ruin everything by demanding Armsmaster is taken away. Not that they would listen to Triumph, anyway. Everyone else is clearly on the same side here when it’s about letting Defiant run around free. Disagreeing would lead nowhere.

Prism not intervening either kind of shook Triumph, to the point where he was now wondering if she was the ideal girl. That sure was a fleeting possible relationship! At the first sign of disagreement, he’s already backing out, without even talking to her. That’s not very mature of Triumph. He even leaves in a huff. Well I sure hope once he calms down he returns to talk to Prism.

Part of the reason why he’s so upset is because he understood Armsmaster and knew how it was possible he had gotten to the point he had tried to fight Leviathan by himself, even if it meant sacrificing a few villains along the way. I don’t think Triumph approves, but he understands how things led to it.

It spooked Triumph because he could imagine it all too easily, where his teammates seemed dumbfounded. It all made sense, to the point that he could imagine himself doing something similar if he found himself in Armsmaster’s shoes.

If he understands how that happened, then it’s less likely he will ever walk down that same path, I think. He’s been telling himself he never will and maybe I agree, even though he seems afraid not intervening in Armsmaster getting away with his behavior means he could start going down that same road. I still think being aware of it means he won’t ever go through that. Hopefully.

Triumph arrives into a section of the city where everything still has the remains of the bombing done on the Slaughterhouse Nine. That was days ago! And nothing has cleared up yet? Bakuda’s bombs are fearsome, it’s a relief she didn’t get to use them. There even is radioactive fallout. Triumph ignores all of it and gets to the place where Crawler and Mannequin are. They were turned into silicon and are presumably dead. Someone really should cart those two out of here. I hope they’re truly dead and not just encased in silicon or something.

The reason they’re here is so Triumph can stare at them in an angsty manner. He’s concerned about how things are going, and staring at these two is his way to cope with his frustration today. He sat there for full fifteen minutes, just...staring at the silicone statues.

That’s where the interlude ends. Aw, that’s a bit of a letdown. I wish some of Triumph’s thoughts had been mentioned before that. I mean, sounds like he didn’t make any progress, but there was no narration between him sitting down to stare at Crawler and Mannequin, and the last line of the interlude. Just a couple lines about how this wasn’t helping at all could have helped reinforce the scene. Oh well. It was an interesting interlude, nonetheless.

So yeah, Dragon and Defiant will hunt for the Slaughterhouse Nine. I wonder...could this accidentally lead to the end of the world? It was said Jack would cause it, but that doesn’t mean he, like, touches a button and everything explodes. A set of circumstances leading to him being able to end the world somehow must happen. It’s possible Defiant and Dragon pursuing them may have something to do with it. You know what they say, about how trying to avoid your fate only takes you to it or whatever. It’s not impossible the actions to eliminate the Slaughterhouse Nine before the end of the world will accidentally lead to that very same end.

This is the end of the interlude, so I think I should end the update here. Next time...next time it will be some thoughts about Worm so far! And about its characters and situations, yeah. I’m glad the Update #100 ended right when an arc ended, that’s a nice point for a pause. So yes, next update will be about my thoughts, and then the next one will start a new arc. Thank you for reading!

Next time: in four updates

#worm #worm liveblog #webserial #webserial liveblog #liveblog

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taurusmanlove · 5 years

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How Does a Taurus Man Act When He's In Love

New Post has been published on https://taurusmen.net/how-does-a-taurus-man-act-when-in-love/

How Does a Taurus Man Act When He's In Love

If you’re trying to figure out if your Taurus man loves you by how he acts around you then paying close attention to a few key traits can expose his real feelings.

Like a true earth sign, he is not much of a talker, and would rather not verbally express his emotions towards you.

Also, things are usually frank with him; if he is interested, there will be no doubt about it. The only thing to do is to watch for potential signs and signals that he is sending to you.

He will not do this intentionally, though. He is a quiet observer, who doesn’t like to rush anywhere.

Even if he is crazy about you, he will wait for some time. He will do this just to be sure if he is ready for a serious kind of relationship.

While there is a predictable pattern for making any man fall in love with you, the signs that show he is in love may differ from one Taurus to the next.

According to the relationship expert Amy North, there are emotional triggers that make a man feel a connection, fascination and love. These emotions can be triggered in him by communicating directly to the primitive and desire-focused part of his brain, as Amy demonstrates in this video.

While the techniques Amy explains in the above video will push him over the edge to fall in love with you, this article will explain the ways he will act when he’s well and truly love-struck.

9 Ways He Will Act When He’s In Love With You

You make him nervous

The first sign is shyness. Is he a bit absent or even nervous when around you?

Maybe he is a bit quieter than usual. That is because he, even if not shy in general, might become that way. Don’t ask him anything about it, because he won’t have an explanation for his behavior.

It wouldn’t be a good idea to verbally confront him if you are in early stages of your dating or relationship, but when he starts behaving like that, it usually means that he still didn’t acknowledge that he likes you.

He starts to give you things

This is not so rare to happen. Taurus is very down to earth, and they value their possessions fairly.

If he is giving you presents all the time, especially something that they own, this is a very good sign.

He may even suggest taking you out to dinner in nice restaurants or give you a gift related to something he knows you’re passionate about.

He wants to be close to you

Then they like someone, they become very touchy and feely around them. This is actually the most common thing they do when they are interested in someone.

They will enjoy your scent so make sure you smell good.

Don’t worry, it’s not about physical contact, but about actual closeness to you. He wants to be as comfortable as he can be when you are around.

His ways of getting to know someone is through senses, so you should let him be near you if he wants. That means your Taurus man is actually crazy about you.

See also: What Taurus wants from a woman

He doesn’t want to look directly at you in groups

This is a very common thing they do in the early stages, which can be a bit confusing signal to anyone, even them.

At the beginning of your dating, even if he is not watching you or directly speaking with you in a group, he will try to “get to know you” before he personally does, and try to acquire as much information as he can about you.

That means he is interested.

You will maybe tell someone about your interests, hobbies or habits.

See also: The simple technique that makes him feel obsessive love for you

He stares at you a bit when you talk

So, if he does look at you, but doesn’t talk much, he is actually not present in the words you say, but rather in your presentation itself. He is observing, and, in addition to that, he enjoys looking at you.

This is a very clear sign that a Taurus man is falling in love.

You are a treat for his senses and he just wants to look at you and listen to the sound of your voice.

He is taking you with him

Did you meet his friends? If yes, good. Did you meet his family? If yes, even better. That means he is including you in his life, little by little.

This is, maybe, the most important sign of them all. These men like their routine and every change they make to it indicate that it’s somewhat important to them.

If you are invited to a family gathering or something similar, you are included in his life, at least for some extent.

See also: The signs he likes you more than a friend

He is starting to be a bit possessive

As we have already mentioned, they like to own stuff. If they have that sense of ownership towards you, it might indicate that he really cares about your presence.

Sudden confidence

If he has unusual boosts of confidence when you are together in a group of people, that means that he wants your attention, but, like its typical for a Taurus, won’t do it directly.

When Taurus men are falling in love, they get a bit confused, and it might influence their behavior.

See also: Surprising ways to seduce a Taurus guy

Related article: More signs Taurus man is in love with you

He spends a lot more time with you

If he invests more and more time on you, that means he considers you as a part of his life. They value their time since they usually have a lot of work to do, so if you are included in his free time, consider yourself lucky. This means he is falling for you.

Final Thoughts

When it comes to the signs he is falling for you, it generally depends on what stage of dating you are in.

If it’s not yet a relationship, he might look cold and uninterested, but as I said, they are frank by nature so don’t take this to heart.

When they don’t have an interest in someone, it will usually be very obvious. After spending some time with you and he becomes aware that you are a good match for him, he will become more gentle and loving.

That’s usually when he will start showing you more affection.

So don’t lose hope if it seems to you that your Taurus man isn’t paying too much attention to you. It’s most likely that he is in his own way but just doesn’t want to be too obvious about it yet.

If you think he needs a nudge in the right direction to push him over the edge to feel a level of desire for you that goes beyond love, then you can trigger the emotions of connection, fascination and love in him by using Amy North’s simple methods.

Amy is a relationship coach and has taught hundreds of women how to spark his animal brain to feel intense feelings of love. You can learn how she does it here.

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#act #in love #love #signs

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pjdredful · 6 years

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The AV Club

Chapter 1

"You know Evie, you've been coming to me for three months now. In that three months you've only spoken once. Just once to ask for water." Tony leans back in his comfy chair and taps his notebook with the end of his pen. I shrug lightly at it and continue playing with the frayed patch at the knee of my jeans. He gives a soft sigh and nods mostly to himself, I think, rather than to me. "I know you resent these meetings but the fastest way to get them over with is to actually participate." I give him a blank look and roll my eyes. Tony is my therapist, or he would be if I actually spoke to him but I don't because I don't need a therapist. I'm not crazy. I let him sit in silence a little longer before I check my watch. We still have fifteen minutes but sometimes when I look bored he lets me go early. I think he's almost going to let me go when he switches it up on me. "Your mother said you're having nightmares again."

"Step-mother." His brow goes up slightly but he only nods in acknowledgement or acceptance or whatever.

"She says they're coming almost every night now. That must be frustrating for you." For a second I consider making a smart remark but my mother, my real one, always said if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Which is why I'm quiet about 85 percent of the time. It's not like anyone would believe anything I said anyway so I usually just skip over communicating entirely. "When I was about your age I had some pretty weird dreams too. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, confused, scared, and angry all rolled into one. The worst part was, I didn't think anyone would understand because I wasn't entirely sure I understood."

Ten minutes to go. I flick my eyes toward him and try to keep from looking as bored as I feel. So what if he had nightmares? I'm pretty sure they weren't scenes of the end of the world and everyone he ever loved dying in a violently bloody demon apocalypse. The truth is when I say it like that I can't really blame Jo-lynn for thinking I'm a whack job and forcing me to complete my legally mandated therapy sessions. You wake the house screaming about the end of the world enough times it's bound to make even the most rational of people look like a maniac. Tony gives it a beat and looks at the clock over my shoulder before giving a resigned nod. "Okay well its a few minutes early but I can see you're still not ready to talk." He closes his blank notebook and rests it on the edge of the coffee table very deliberately. He's not the first therapist I've been dragged to over the years, and even though I don't talk to him, he's actually kind of the best. The most patient for sure but even patient people have limits. He offers me a slightly tired smile and clasps his hands between his knees lightly. "I get that you don't want to talk to me because I'm the person your step-mom picked. I get that you think this is all a bullshit waste of time and I'm an idiot, and I might be. But I'm here if you do want to talk about what's on your mind."

A bullshit waste of time. I couldn't have said it better myself and I can't help but chuckle a little. He smiles back at me probably thinking we've made some progress here. Maybe we have. I've smiled even less than I've spoken. "You're not an idiot." He gives me a slight nod and I continue. "But this is totally a bullshit waste of time. I'd say sorry about it but you still get paid, talking or not, right?"

He leans back in his chair again and rests his chin on his fist. "Well we're talking now, so I guess I'm earning my pay."

Hm. He has a point. I roll my eyes at him but I'm not really bothered. "Time's up, Doc. Good talk though."

Tony stands and opens the door to the hallway out of his office. "You know I'm not a doctor right?"

I'm almost all the way through the door when I snort. "You know I'm not a psycho right?"

"Evie…." I wave it off because psycho is one of those no no words now. "Now wait." He puts a hand out, not really touching me but letting me know he wants me to listen. "No one thinks you're a psycho. No one thinks you're crazy or out of control or anything like that.” God. His face is so earnest.

I give him a look and wait a beat. “Well I dunno the judge at my hearing seemed to think I’m very out of control.” That was all just a misunderstanding. Honestly. I’m not on drugs! Okay. Well. At the very least I wasn’t on drugs when I got arrested.

Tony just grins at me and nods his head a little as if accepting that yes obviously someone thought I was nuts. His quiet chuckle fades and he shrugs a tweed covered shoulder. “Your mom just thinks you need someone to talk to about the things you feel."

He almost freaking had me. Almost. "Step-mom." It's too late to fix and he knows it so I wink and slip my earbuds in as I stroll down the hall out to the waiting room. Sandra the receptionist waves to me as I slide out the patient exit door and head for the bus stop. I skip through my mp3 player until I reach my favorite song by The Decemberists. Los Angeles I'm Yours plays just loudly enough to drown out the sounds of most traffic as I sit at the bus stop waiting for the number 18. I'm not thrilled about having to see Tony twice a week but the truth is today is the closest I've come to wanting to talk about it. The nightmares, the demons, the monsters, the devil, and my AP biology midterm. All of the horrible things that keep me up at night. I'm so deep in thought that for a second I don't realize that a shit brown 1988 Ford Taurus is idling roughly at the curb where the bus stops.

My bestfriend Nat pokes his head out of the passenger window and whistles to get my attention. "Yo…crazy face! Get in!" I shake my head with a laugh and run to the car, hurrying to beat the bus just pulling in with a nasty honk at Nat and his brother. I fling myself in to the back seat, squishing into a warm, soft body with a slight blush.

"Hey Lirae." She gives me a smirking smile because it's pretty much the only kind she knows how to give. I pull my seatbelt around and fumble for a second looking for the part to click into before I realize that Lirae is sitting on it. And still watching me with that serene calm that lets me know that she's purposely sitting on the seatbelt thing.

"Problem?" I fidget a little before letting go of the seatbelt altogether. Forget it. I'd rather be flung to my death through the windshield. I can feel my face burning as she chuckles and bumps my shoulder with hers. Lirae’s usually on but currently off again boy toy makes an annoyed tsking sound and a really nasty beer burp. She turns her head to give him a disgusted look. "Gross Orson. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No. I kiss yours." She elbows him in the gut hard enough to make him choke out a breath before she reaches across my body to pull my seatbelt back over. I go still as a frightened mouse and try not to think about how close we all are in this tiny rusting deathtrap and how warm Lirae's hands are at my hip as she buckles me in.

"Can't have our girl getting hurt can we?" Uhhh. My brain has momentarily stopped functioning at the softly whispered comment. Orson is watching her very closely and I know that he's going to make my life miserable. He's the one friend of my super small circle that isn't really a friend. More like a tolerable associate. I wouldn't talk to him at all if it weren't for Lirae bringing him to the AV Club. Once he was in he kind of just took root. Like a really annoying weed.

"So what's the diagnosis? Is Evil Evie still cray cray?" There it is. I roll my eyes and don't even bother to hide the smile when Lirae elbows him again. "What? The kid is a train wreck, we all know that already."

Nat turns around in his seat as much as he can and nods at me. "Don't listen to dickwad there. He's just in a bad mood because Coach chewed him a new asshole at practice." I'm not that girl you know? The cheerleading, team sport loving, school spirit having All American Girl. That's just not me. For one thing I'm not even sure how football works. And for another I'd much rather date the prom queen than the prom king. Plus there's that whole thing where the weird paranormal shit that only happens in movies and TV seems to always happen to me. I don't mean to imply that I'm a cosmic joke and a walking magnet for the weird and terrifying. I mean to outright state fact. I am a living, breathing, magic and mayhem magnet. All that scary hoodoo crap you think can't be real? It is.

So no. I'm not the girl that hangs with the pep squad or the popular kids. Orson however, well. He's the top jock and he acts like it too. I smile at Nat and shrug. "Like water off a duck's back." Nat chucks me under the chin playfully and turns back in his seat as we cruise along toward the clubhouse. See? Tony shouldn't feel bad, I don't talk even to my friends. "What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought we were meeting at the clubhouse at seven." It's not quite six yet but any change of plan that keeps me off the public busses is okay by me.

Mo looks at me through the rearview mirror and shrugs. "We were at The Harbor." My brows come up a little at that. The Harbor isn't a place for boats and beaches in our town. The Harbor is a very seedy bar where you can acquire just about anything if you have the money and don't sweat the small details. Like, where said purchased thing came from, or even knowing the name of the person you bought it from. Needless to say The Harbor is the last place a bunch of teenagers should be. And yet…we know it well. At least I know it well. Well enough to get arrested for being underage in a bar I had no business being in. My punishment? Mandatory rehabilitative counseling. I wasn't there to drink but when I told the undercover officer that detained me that I was there to see a man about a stone he just assumed I actually said I was there to see a man about getting stoned. Like I said. Misunderstanding.

"Any news?" I try hard to keep the hopeful note out of my voice. Everyone in this car knows my deal. Average dorky high school student by day, metaphysical super magnet by night. Well. That part is really a 24 hour deal but since most of the paranormal crap is powered by moonlight I get a reprieve. Just in time for those oh so thrilling biology classes. This weird dark attraction has been my curse since my eleventh birthday and there hasn't been a damn thing I can do about it. In short I'm just like Mo and Nat, Orson and Lirae. Well. Possibly not exactly like Lirae. I'm not sure there's anyone quite like her. But what I mean is that I'm just as normal as the next geek. I can't see or hear anything different than any other human, all I can do is 'sense' the darkness. It's more of a gut instinct which is so much more difficult to explain to a rational human being. Hey a demon thing is in town. Oh how do I know? Because I can feel it. What does it look like? Well I'm not sure really since I only ever see things like that in my horrible puke inducing nightmares. Yeah. This is my life.

I watch Mo's lips curl in a slight smile even though he doesn't say anything. I'm hoping that means good news for me and bad news for my nightmares. He pulls off the main road taking a little used dirt switchback track. Orson, Lirae and I bounce around in the back like sacks of laundry, grabbing on to any surface that will keep us stationary as the car rolls over the rutted and uneven path. Mo banks a curve that throws Lirae's body in to mine hard enough to make my head smack the window. I'd grumble but I'm too terrified to move because I'm pretty sure there is a boob on my arm. Lirae rights herself by pushing off my knee with a grunt and I breathe. I can feel the heat of her hand still on my knee right through my jeans. Probably it’s the closest I’ll get to being groped by another human being again in my life. I make sure to avert my gaze toward the window to hide the creeping red flush up my face. Maybe if I don’t move, she won’t either. As the car skids to a stop in front of the dilapidated shack we call a clubhouse I curse my ineptitude in all things romantic.

"Hey Mo, grab the equipment while me and Orson get the cooler out of the trunk." I look up at Nat's tall, broad shouldered back as I extricate myself from the backseat of the car. He turns his curly blonde head to catch me giving him the curious side eye and smiles innocently. Well if I wasn't suspicious of him needing 'help' with the cooler before, that too casual innocent look certainly seals the deal now. I open my mouth to ask why he needs help but Nat cuts me off "Hey you and Lirae kick on the generator. I think there's still a full gas can in the shed." Okay he's being weird. I stand there a little confused when Lirae rests an elbow on my shoulder to watch the boys wrestle the extra-large camp cooler out of the trunk of the car.

"He's being weird, right?" My thoughts exactly. I glance at her with a grin and shake my head.

"When isn't he? C'mon it's getting dark already." I really don't like being outside of the clubhouse when it's dark out. Not because of monsters and ghosts but because there be wildlife in them there hills. What? Raccoons are terrifying! Lirae follows me but not before reaching out quick little hands to tickle my ribs.

"Watch out! The raccoons will get you." Asshole. I slap at her hands and squirm away with a little squeak of protest. I'm a little more glad for the dimness of dusk than I was a few minutes ago because at least it hides my blush as she laughs at my responses.

"Laugh all you want but probably you're the one they'll eat first when the Critterpocalypse comes." I pull out my phone to use as a flashlight when I duck under the low door frame of the shed. It used to be a child's playhouse sitting a few feet away from the main shack so it's a little cramped with the generator and two people. As usual if it could happen, it does, and always to me. I make a small disgusted sound and try to wipe the cobwebs from the side of my face. Fantastic. "Ugh. Gross. Here, hold this will ya?"

Lirae takes the phone from my hand and directs it at the generator for me. I take a tick to check the fuel gauge just to make sure before I yank the ripcord a few times to turn the motor on. It sputters to life with a roar and the sound of music floats back to us on the warm breeze. I can just see Lirae's full lipped mouth curve into a smile in the dim light from my phone. "You're a mess."

I stand still as she steps in closer to pick the thick gauzy web out of my hair. "Thanks." I clear my throat, suddenly a little unsure and super uncomfortable. Maybe it's the gas fumes. They're making me feel all fuzzy headed and belly floppy like I just got off a rollercoaster. Or maybe it's just being this close to Lirae, alone, in the dark. She pulls the last web away and we're just standing face to face. Her hazel eyes look black in the shadow and suddenly much closer than they were a second ago. So close I can see her heavy lashes fall closed as we lean in closer for a kiss. The second, the absolute second, I close my eyes finally deciding to do something, anything, Orson's voice breaks the silence and causes me to jerk back.

"Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer th…" I glare at my phone in indignation. That little shit changed my ringtone for his number! Lirae sighs and tips her head back with an unhappy laugh and answers it. I'm too embarrassed to realize at first that she hadn't moved an inch at the sound of his voice.

"What?" It's clipped and to my ears a little frustrated but that could be hopeful thinking on my part.

"Hurry your sweet ass up the beer is getting warm." The beer is in no way getting warm. It’s just that Orson is a dick.

Lirae ends the call and hands me back my phone with a slightly annoyed look. "Hm. Saved by the bell." I want to comment but I don't have anything really to say. Other than sorry. Which judging by the look on her face is not the appropriate response. When I can't come up with anything helpful she lets out another sigh and leaves me standing in the dark of the shed. All by my lonesome. Great.

By the time I make my way in to the clubhouse everyone is settled on the mismatched furniture we've managed to squirrel away here. I take a beer and my usual seat in the bright yellow bean bag chair that Orson's little brother meant to throw out. There's a rip in the seam at the back. Not enough to spew little balls of polystyrene filler but enough to make it sound rude every time I sit in it. Everyone snickers a little and I roll my eyes. "So. What happened at The Harbor?"

I glance at each of them but they all turn their attention to Mo. Despite being brothers Nat and Mo don't really look alike. Aside from the curly hair they're as different as two people could be. Mo is built more like a swimmer, sinewy and thin, his shoulders slump a little from years spent in front of a computer screen. Heavy lidded dark eyes spark with anticipation and I'm immediately caught in the expectancy of the moment. "I got a call from Manny while you were at your appointment. Warrow is back."

Warrow. Oh man I hate that smelly guy. He has a bad habit of trying to grab my ass every time I have to talk to him. "Where was he this time?"

Not that it matters much. Like I said. Don't sweat the details and everything is okie dokie. "Nepal. And he brought you this." Mo holds up a blackened stone with what looks like patches of rust colored mud caked to it. "He said and I quote 'To chase 'way night horrors so that me sweet lassie c'n dream of my…"

"Okay gross I don't even need to hear the rest." I reach out a hand and take the stone. It's warm in my hand and a little heavier than I thought it would be. It smells like dust and something earthier that I can't identify. Up close it looks like a turd but if it's a magic turd I guess that's okay.

"So what do you think? Is it the real deal?" It's hard to say so I shrug at Nat, still eying my magic turd rock.

"I dunno but we'll see what happens tonight." I tuck it away in my pocket before finally cracking open my beer to sip at it. I'm not a big drinker but I need something to do right now to keep my focus from drifting back to what almost happened in the shed. "How much did he ask for it? Was it a lot?"

Everyone goes quiet except Orson. He chuckles and stretches his muscular dark skinned arms over his head. "He didn't want money." I look at Nat and Mo who are suddenly and very determinedly looking everywhere but me. That only leaves one person who will tell me what's going on. I look at Lirae and even she looks a little uncomfortable as she plays with her own fingers. Why do I feel like I’m going to hate whatever is going to come out of her mouth?

"You owe him a future favor of his choosing." Yup. I hate it. Oh God. Knowing Warrow this future favor may involve nudity, lewd and illegal acts, drugs and or alcohol and dark magics. Not necessarily in that order or combination. My horrified expression makes Orson's chuckle turn in to a barely choked back guffaw. "Don't freak! We totally specified nothing sexual or illegal. Promise."

I must still look a little freaked out because she moves off the floral patterned loveseat she was sharing with Orson to sit on the floor next to my chair. Somehow this makes it all mostly better. "Well, I guess if this works it will be worth it. I don't know how much more Jo-lynn can stand." Lirae reaches up to tug one of my braided pigtails playfully and I guess that means she's done being irritated with me.

"So what's the plan Evil Evie? We looking for boogiemen tonight or what?" More like or what. While terrifying and more than a little gross and overly graphic, my nightmares haven't been anything really solid. Just images of what could happen. I haven't been getting the 'feeling' that something wicked has wandered in to our town. Or if it has it's doing an amazing job of hiding itself. I shrug a little and shake my head.

"I don't know. Aside from the dreams it's been pretty quiet. After the poltergeist last month it's like everything has just…gone away." Normal people would look upon this with relief and possibly hope for a better tomorrow. I look at the silence with dread bordering on hysterical anxiety. Evil for lack of a better term, doesn't die, doesn't get tired, and most certainly doesn't forget. The last six years have proved that time and time again to me. Everyone looks disappointed but no one seems to share my apprehension.

"More time to drink!" Orson high fives Nat as they simultaneously chug their beers. My night has definitely taken a down turn.

#my writing #the av club story dredful tales

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sweetiepie08 · 6 years

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Bedtime Story (Chap 4)

Coco Princess Bride AU

Hector’s not sure how he, of all people, managed to have a daughter who didn’t see the value in love stories. Being the romantic sap he is, he reads her one of his favorites before bed. He hopes the story will show her the power of all types of love and it’ll become of her her favorites too.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Ernesto and his entourage rode to the location his lookouts gave him. They said they spotted Héctor being dragged along by another man. They were confronted by a masked woman, presumably a pirate. After a wager involving poison, the man collapsed to the ground and the woman intercepted Héctor, dragging him away herself.

They came to the place where Héctor was last spotted. There, they found one canteen and the man still lying on the ground. Ernesto dismounted his horse and approached the kidnapper. He recognized the man as a diplomat from Santa Anthony. So, they were behind this. His blood rushed with cold fury and he kicked the man in the side. Death came too easily to him.

To his shock, the man on the ground started coughing. “He’s alive,” he shouted. His associate also climbed down from her horse and joined him in looming over the criminal.

The man slowly sat up and opened his eyes. When he saw whose presence he was in, he scrambled to his knees. “Prince Ernesto. I’m sorry to have met you like this. I didn’t expect-”

“Calm yourself, señor,” Ernesto said, putting on his most princely voice. “No need to be frightened. I am out looking for my companion. I received a horrible note saying he’d been abducted and a lookout spotted him here. Have you seen anything strange?”

“Yes, yes, I saw him. He was with the pirate Valentina Rodriguez. I’m sure of it. I tried to interfere but she was too quick for me.”

“Really?” Ernesto’s appreciative smile had a hard edge which was hard to ignore. “Did you see which way they went?”

“No, she knocked me out before they took off,” The old man answered.

Ernesto smirked and rubbed his chin in faux contemplation. “It’s interesting. My lookout reported that she intercepted him from you.”

“No, that’s not true,” the old man panicked. “Héctor’s been my friend for years. I would never truly hurt him.”

“Truly?” Ernesto pressed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, I…”

“Did you threaten him?”

“No, I-I…”

“And what exactly is a Santa Anthony diplomat doing on my hunting grounds?”

The man looked like he was about to collapse. “Please, Prince Ernesto,” he begged. “My duty is to maintain peace between our two kingdoms. I would never jeopardize that peace. I…”

Ernesto chuckled and guided the old man to his feet. “It’s alright. If you want to prove your dedication, you can run a message for me. If memory serves, you are very familiar with that sort of task.”

The man was still shaking, but the fear was starting to leave his eyes. “Yes, Prince Ernesto.”

“I have a lookout stationed east of here,” Ernesto said, pointing into the distance. “Run to them and tell them to be on the watch for the pirate Valentine Rodriguez with the kidnapped Lord Héctor.”

“I will. Right away.”

The man took off without hesitation, the fool. Ernesto whistled for his squire who brought him his bow and a quiver of arrows.

“My prince,” his associate called from where she knelt in the grass. “There are tracks here. They lead this way.”

“Gracias Doña,” He said, lining up his shot. “We will follow them as soon as I am finished here.”

He watched as the old man ran into the distance. Once the man was far enough away that he might be starting to hope, Ernesto released his bow string. The arrow flew through the air and lodged itself in the old man’s back. He fell to the ground. Satisfied, Ernesto handed his quiver and bow back to his squire and mounted his horse.

The man was a fool to think he’d get away with it, to think his crime would go unpunished. He signed his death warrant the moment he touched the royal companion. Lord Héctor was a steward of the Prince. He belonged to Ernesto. And Ernesto did not let anyone take what was his.

[-]

The hours ceased to exist for Héctor and Imelda and they lost themselves in each other’s arms. They spent many long years apart and had to make up for lost time. Their moment was interrupted, however, when they heard hoof beats thundering above…

[-]

“Ew, Papa…”

“What?” Héctor asked, lowering the book.

“Were they kissing for that long?” Coco stuck her tongue out to properly express her disgust.

“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t that long.”

“Do you kiss Mama for that long?”

Héctor felt the heat rising in his cheeks and dove his nose back into the book. “Let’s just get back to the story.”

[- Story Time-]

“No, Ernesto,” Lord Héctor breathed as he looked up at the hunting party at the top on the ravine. “He’ll have you killed if he finds you.”

Imelda sat up and raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you just tell him I’m not the one who kidnapped you?”

Héctor crawled up against the side of the ravine for a closer look. “No, Ernesto has his arrows with him. If he suspects you, he’ll shoot you before I have the chance to explain.” He slid back down to the bottom and helped Imelda up. “We can’t let him catch up to us.”

“Then let’s go. This way.” Imelda took him by the hand and pulled him toward a thicket of trees west of the ravine.

“Through the geyser swamp?” Héctor gasped, scrambling to keep pace. “It’s impossible to survive in there.”

“Nonsense. Just because no one’s survived yet doesn’t mean no one can.”

[-]

“So, I realize this might be an odd time to ask this,” Héctor said, jumping out of the way of an erupting geyser, “but what exactly happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” Imelda asked, cutting down some vines with her sword.

“Last anyone heard, your ship was attacked by Valentina Rodriguez, but now you are Valentina Rodriguez. Does your family know you’re alive?”

“They do,” she answered. “I sent them a letter as soon as I could telling them I was fine and I’d found a lucrative job. I wrote them as often as I could,” she threw a sharp glare over her shoulder, “which is more than I can say for you. That’s how I knew you left them.”

Héctor’s insides went cold. She still thought he abandoned them? “I had no choice.”

“You could have at least wrote to them,” Imelda countered, a hard edge on her voice. “Just a letter or two wouldn’t have hurt.”

You have no idea… “I kept in touch at the beginning. I sent them at least one letter a week. But then Ernesto made me royal companion. He noticed that I still wrote to them and he knew they helped me hide from him. He started making comments about how old they were getting and how I shouldn’t be surprised if they died soon.” He shivered as he remembered the smirk that accompanied these suggestions. “I had to cut off all contact. I wanted to write one last time to explain, but I knew Ernesto had spies reading my letters. I’m sorry. I never wanted to do it.”

Imelda glanced back at him again, her face softening. “Well, at least you had noble intentions,” she sighed, before silently continuing to hack away at the brush.

Héctor couldn’t help but notice she never offered an explanation to him. “Imelda…” He grabbed her hand and took her in his arms. “Everyone thought you were dead. I was heartbroken. I thought I’d never love again. But here you are. Just talking to you right now is a miracle. Please tell me how this is possible.”

She smiled at him the way she did the last time he held her like this. For a moment, they were kids again, discovering love in the grassy hills of the town they grew up in. A geyser erupted behind them, causing them both to jump closer together.

Imelda laughed and turned to continue their trek through the swamp, this time keeping one hand in his. “I didn’t lie before,” she explained. “My ship was attacked and I did tell Valentina Rodriguez that I had no intention of dying before I earned my fortune. She told me I had enough spirit to be a pirate and she invited me to join her crew. Over the next few years, we sort of became friends. She’d often take me aside and teach me about the finer points of leadership.”

Another geyser interrupted them, temporarily splitting their hands apart. When it settled, they reconnected and she continued her story.

“One day, she invited me to have dinner with her in her galley. There she told me she wasn’t the original Valentina Rodriguez. Her name was Juanita. She’d inherited the title from the last Rodriguez who was now retired on an island, rich enough to never have to work another day in her life. Apparently there’s a while line of Rodriguezes and she’d chosen me to be her successor. With a legendary name like Rodriguez, she said, you hardly have to do much. Crews will see you coming and abandon ship out of fear of the reputation. After that, all you have to do is board and take the cargo. It’s the legend that holds all the power.

“She and the whole crew would retire and I would take over as captain. We ported at a known pirate den. The crew took their shares and went on their way and she helped me hire a new crew. She pretended to be my first mate and called me Rodriguez. She coached me for a few weeks through captaining the ship, then took her share and retired as well. I’ve been Valentina Rodriguez ever since.”

“So you’ve been murdering and pillaging all this time?” Héctor asked, breaking his hand away.

“No, no murdering or pillaging, though there was thievery,” she admitted. “You see, if Valentina Rodriguez really left no survivors, there’d be no legends. No one would know the name. Maybe the original really did earn her reputation, but not the crew I was on and definitely not on my crew. Most just abandon ship when they see my sails, but the ones that don’t surrender on the spot. Everyone thinks they’re the one lucky ship that was spared. That how much power the name holds. Just put out enough stories about ships you’ve burned and the legend will survive.”

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Recently, I’ve acquired enough wealth for my crew to retire as well. I’ll appoint a new Valentina Rodriguez, then I’ll return to my family. We’ll retire to a beautiful island,” She turned back to Héctor with a mischievous smile and pulled him close, “and you will come with us.”

“Me?” He said, stepping away. “Imelda I can’t.”

Her face hardened into stone. “If Ernesto’s really as bad as you say he is, then you’re not safe here,”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just leave the Southlands without a leader.”

“So, you plan to go back alone?” Her shoulders drooped and she scowled as she turned away and began half-heartedly cutting through the vines. “Just they said…”

“What do you mean?”

“The Lord of the Southlands would never take a shoemaker’s daughter for his bride.” Her voice sounded automatic, rehearsed, like she was parroting someone else’s words.

“What?” Héctor rushed to her and gathered her in his arms again. “Imelda, I always knew I’d have to go back someday and take my parent’s place ruling the Southlands, but I always intended to ask you to come with me.”

“I’m not nobility,” she stated, matter-of-fact.

Héctor laughed and shook his head. “So what? I don’t care about titles. I care about you. I can’t imagine loving anyone else.”

Imelda’s eyes glistened as she searched his face, looking for any hint of insincerity, but there was none to be found. She leapt up and kissed him. Another geyser went off somewhere in the swamp. They barely registered it.

Imelda pulled away, a smile still on her lips, but Héctor could see the wheels turning in her mind. Her face suddenly fell and she broke away from him. “Does that even matter now?” She asked. “How can we be together if you belong to Ernesto?”

Héctor rubbed his eyes and wracked his brain for an answer. Ernesto… Somehow, he’d forgotten. Even if they managed to slip past Ernesto’s hunting party, he’d still need to explain why he was suddenly with this strange pirate woman. They couldn’t elope. Ernesto would take that as an insult. He couldn’t tell Ernesto the truth either. Imelda was a legendary pirate now. Ernesto would have not trouble finding cause to arrest her. But, if she were still just a shoemaker…

“We’ll take your boat back to the Southlands,” he said finally. “I’ll go back to my estate and send a letter to Ernesto explaining that a mysterious woman rescued me and returned me home. You take your ship and finish getting your pirate affairs in order, then come back to me. Ernesto knows I have to marry eventually, and I’ve told him about my lost love. When you return, we’ll say you weren’t dead after all, just shipwrecked and you were finally able to make it home. You and I will marry and we can move your whole family to the estate.”

“What about Ernesto’s jealousy?” she countered. “He’s famous for it, even across the sea.”

“There’s nothing that says the royal companion can’t get married. Ernesto will have no choice but to accept it.” It was perfect, really. As Lord of the Southlands, getting married was expected of him and it was expected of Ernesto to congratulate him.

Imelda still looked skeptical, but accepted his answer with a nod. “Alright, I’ll trust you on this one, but I’ve heard things about Ernesto and if he ever tries to hurt you…”

“You’ll just have to rescue me again, won’t you?” Héctor flashed her a cheeky grin.

Imelda smirked and playfully nudged him with her elbow. “Let’s try not to make a habit of it. We’re not even finished with this rescue yet. Though it does look like we’re almost out of the Geyser Swamp.” She gestured with her sword toward a break in the trees up ahead.

“Wait!” Héctor grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“What’s wrong?”

“What about the COUSes? They’re said to guard the exit.”

“Chihuahuas of unusual size? I don’t think they exist.”

A yapping ball of fur leapt out of the bushes and pounced on Imelda, knocking her to the ground. It snapped at her as she tried to push it away. Héctor grabbed it by the tail and dragged it away. It turned on him and tried to bite at his ankles. He picked up a branch and swung at it, but even a knock to the head didn’t seem to deter it.

Jaws wide open, it made a lunge for his knee. Suddenly, it was jerked back as Imelda grabbed its hind legs and swung it into a tree. It hit the trunk and fell to the ground. It lay stunned as they backed away, Imelda’s sword raised. After a few seconds, it regained consciousness and shook off its shock. It leapt for them, but got caught up in the scalding hot water of an erupting geyser.

When the water receded, the creature lay crying and twitching on the ground. When she was sure it was no longer a threat, Imelda slowly approached it and plunged her sword into the poor thing’s heart, putting it out of its misery.

[-]

“Papa?”

“Yes, Coco?”

“You know the Chihuahuas that live next door?” she asked, squeezing her Chewbacca plushie tight. “How big are they going to get?”

Héctor lifted the book to hide his laughter. “Don’t worry, Coco. I think they’re full grown.” She had a point, though. Those little ankle biters were filled with more rage than their bodies could handle. If they were any bigger, they’d be more terrifying that an angry Rottweiler.

“Okay, can we get back to the story now?”

[-]

With the beast vanquished, Imelda and Héctor were able to exit the geyser swamp. They thought they’d cleared their last obstacle, but as soon as they stepped through the trees, they found themselves surrounded by Ernesto’s soldiers, with the Prince himself at the head. “Surrender,” he demanded.

“You mean you wish to surrender to me?” Imelda sniped. “Very well, I accept.”

“You’re in no position to play games,” Ernesto said with a sneer. “You’ve kidnapped my royal companion. If you don’t surrender him, you will die here and now.”

“You’ll have to catch us first,” Imelda countered. “We survived the geyser swamp. We can hide comfortably in there, so if you think you’re brave enough to follow us in…”

“I’ll give you one more chance to surrender peacefully.”

“Not happening.”

Héctor heard some rustling behind them. He turned to see two crossbowmen hiding behind the trees with their weapons aimed at Imelda’s back.

“I won’t ask again! Surrender!”

“Never!”

“Stop!”

Héctor leapt onto Imelda’s back, sending them both to the ground. He made sure to shield every inch of her body with his. A few feet away, a crossbow bolt embedded itself in the dirt.

“Héctor, what-” Imelda grumbled, trying to buck him off of her.

Héctor shushed her and lifted his head to face Ernesto. “Don’t hurt her.”

“What? She kidnapped you.”

“No, she rescued me,” Héctor answered. “Do you remember when I told you about my lover who I thought was dead? This is her. After her ship was attacked, she became a sailor to survive. Promise not to hurt her and let her return to her ship, and I will go back with you.”

“Very well,” Ernesto said in his most stately voice. “You have my word.”

Héctor got off of Imelda and helped her to her feet.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Can we still be together now that he knows who I am?”

“I don’t know.” He reached out and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “But I love you more than anything in this world. I thought you were dead once and it almost destroyed me. I can’t let anything happen to you. I don’t think I could survive that a second time.”

“Héctor…” Her eyes glistened again.

He gently placed his thumb on her chin and kissed her one last time. They were interrupted by Ernesto loudly clearing his throat.

“Are you coming?” he demanded.

“This isn’t the end,” Imelda said, turning Héctor’s face back to her. “I’ll come back for you again. I promise.”

Their fingers lingered on each other as they separated. A soldier handed a horses’ reigns to Héctor. He mounted it and joined Ernesto’s hunting party.

“Doña,” Ernesto called to his associate. “Make sure our friend is taken care of.” He lead the party away, Héctor taking one last glance at Imelda before riding off.

Imelda was left behind with Doña and three other soldiers. “I’m perfectly capable of making it back to my ship without an escort, thank you.”

Doña laughed and her lips curled into a sinister smile. “Don’t worry. We’re not escorts.”

The soldiers closed in on her, cutting of her escape route. She looked up at Doña and scrutinized her face. “Has anyone ever told you, you look like a Chihuahua?” she asked with a smirk. “I may know someone who’s looking for you.”

Before she could get a reply, a soldier clubbed her on the back of the head and everything went black.

#coco #coco pixar #coco fanfiction #coco fanart #hector rivera #imelda rivera #hector x imelda #imector #ernesto de la cruz #miguel rivera #dante coco #princess bride au

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fossadeileonixv · 3 years

Text

Mercato Madness: The Final Say

One thing is certain, you are not to soil this man’s name in this here house.

So the summer transfer marker of 2021 is over.

Let’s take some time to rejoice.

Since banter officially began way back in the summer of 2012, I can recall few players, events, coaches, matches that have divided Milanisti quite like this market. We have some that are singing high praise for Maldini’s ability to capture eleven new players on an 80 million euro budget. Then we have others ridiculing a transfer strategy that culminated in Junior Messias as the answer to the right wing issue, hours before the window closed. The human condition is manifold, reason a flawed and subjective invention, and as such a definitive manichean yes or no, good or bad solution or explanation for nearly anything we can perceive and comprehend is inherently out of reach. The summer 2021 transfer market is no exception. It can be seen as both a failure and a success and it would be difficult for me to argue in favor or in opposition to either position, resolutely.

To highlight this point, I’m publishing a Twitter DM convo between Mike and I, which I think also kind of covers how each of us feels not only about the players, but the strategy in general. Mike is more optimistic than I, but after re-reading this a few times, I can’t even disagree with him:

TR: I'm trying to just put my faith in Pioli and hope that Brahim lights shit up. Minus this, I'm not even mad at the moves per se, but more experienced or creative minds could have done more.

MIKE: We still desperately need an AM. To me that is the difference between a good window and not.

We replaced Donna, held onto Tomori and Diaz, added a LB, bolstered the midfield with Bakayoko and brought in what could be a 20+ goal scorer in Giroud. That's not bad.

TR: Ya I dunno. RW/AM were like the two areas I expected to be addressed with quality and early and here we are

MIKE: We also brought in Florenzi and Messias as band aids at RW. Not that I'm thrilled with either.

That all being said I think we are at a solid 7; get me an AM and we are at an 8.

I think people are really underestimating how much we needed another striker to go with Ibra and just how good Giroud is gonna be.

TR: It isn't a terrible market and the MF depth is huge, I just think we coulda done better.

Giroud is gonna be great, there is no doubt in my mind. I don't see how Zlatan regains his starting spot tbh, because I also don't see us playing with 2 strikers

MIKE: Also, Maignan for peanuts is a coup. Look at the keepers at the other top clubs in the league.... Ospina, Handanovic, Reina, Szcezny.....

We may very well have the best keeper in the league again

TR: We could. Oddly kind of a low bar which is weird when you think about how stacked the league was with keepers 3 or 4 years back

MIKE: I think he's levels above those guys.

TR: We’ll see.

MIKE: If Leao WOULD SHOW UP AND BE WORTH 40 MILLION we could live with whoever plays on the right. Amazing how he gets a free pass while folks run Castillejo out of town.

LW was trash last year yet the RW was the problem? We've but 10s of millions into that area and gotten fuck all. I don't get it. We paid 9 for Casti and 4 for Saelemaekers and they catch all the hate?

Sorry I'll climb off my soapbox.

TR: LW was at least productive, statistically. Samu was a net 0 and Saele is just not a good enough finisher to play that advanced. Also, we paid like 24m for Casti.

I get it. I gripe about players all the time, but there are certain ones like Saele and Samu where its like, this is as good as they can get. If you're unhappy with it, that's someone else's problem. I think the difference with Leao is that Leao's ceiling is literally world class so the patience is and should be a bit longer.

MIKE: What I don’t understand is people think these rumors m an we had a chance at these players or that somehow Maldini failed.We are a mid level team that made the CL for first time in years. We are barely relevant. Certainly not a destination.

The days of a guy like Sabitzer having a great euros and coming here are loooooong gone.

TR: My counterpoint top that is that mid-level teams playing for nothing are signing quality. Villa signed Emmy Buendia. Wolves signed Sanches. Roma signed Tammy. James/Bernardo, I never really expected but players the level of Vlasic were certainly within our reach.

But again, my issue is more the plan. Taking younger players that can't break into Chelsea and Madrid is fine here and there, but it isn't a transfer strategy. They pay a lot of lip service to the RB model but can't land the sort of players necessary to make that work.

MIKE: I’m sorry but there’s no comparison between us and even a mid level EPL team.

The spending power and attraction of those clubs is light years above us. All we can do is hope they are dumb enough to pay 25 million for Cutrone.

25 million is nothing to them

TR: Spending power sure, but there are a lot of players that don't care for the league or the country (weather/food/family/ etc.) otherwise these clubs would be thriving in tourneys like Europa and they don't.

I've been telling my brother that the model is the right one, but the coach, owners, and directors aren't really qualified enough to make it work. They are however, good enough to finish top four in Italy if all goes right.

And we've sucked for a decade, but players generally hate leaving Milan barring some kind of real personal thing.

The attraction, I believe, is still there. They just don't really have a coherent plan.

And look, the situations were bad, and I hate to beat a dead horse, but arguably two of your three most valuable assets walked out for free. One to a rival. I can't think of a real-life business comparison but that is a reallllllyy bad screwup.

MIKE: I can. You let older workers go and hire replacements at a third of their wages. Happens all the time

TR: But if you could have sold those older workers....

Well, that's slavery, nm. but you get my point.

The four ounce glass has two ounces of water, this we can be sure of. On one hand, we are definitely half full. We’re undoubtedly good enough to compete at a high level as indicated by our second place finish last season and first two games this year. This is as complete a team as we have had since the beginning of banter, and the work that management has done so far is admirable considering the restrictions. Mike is correct in that we aren’t in a financial position to acquire world-class talent, so names like Bernardo, Sabitzer, or even James aren’t quite our reality yet.

But we’re definitely half empty. Big Mike looks the part so far, but sorry Don-haters, he is not at good as PSG’s backup. In fact it would be difficult for me to say that we are substantially a better starting eleven than the one that huffed over the finish line last season, sans maybe Giroud. We’re good enough to finish top four, but it isn’t wild to think of scenarios where we finish anywhere between fifth and seventh. We have depth in almost everywhere, but we also accrued that depth at the expense of two positions that were burning for quality. And while we can’t flex and grab the names mentioned above, you do have to think that with a little more cunning, a bit more panache, and better negotiating skills, we could have done a bit more to make those odds of finishing 5th less likely.

But who is to say? It’s done, thankfully. And now it is time to enjoy the ride. So with our respective thesis’ laid out, let’s rate and speculate with a few questions and answers on the mercato by Mike and I!

MIKE LISI’S THOUGHTS

Biggest coup: Maignan for 14 million. He might already be the best keeper in the league and no one misses Donnarumma. On top of that, Maldini showed that he won't be bullied by the backup keeper for PSG.

The Biggest Surprise: Giroud. I bet he scores 20 goals.

The Biggest Oversight: The attacking midfield spot. Runner up is CB. Kjaer’s health worries me and we’re a little thin at that spot.

Overall Rating: 8/10; Maiagnan, Tomori, Torre, Bakayoko, Florenzi, Brahim, Adli, Pellegri, Giroud. All we lost was Hakan and Donnarumma and we have easily improved each of those spots. No complaints really. Also, we only spent 70 million. Between Hakan and Donnarumma we would have spent that much on their salaries alone.

Are we a better team than last year: Hell yeah we are better. Last year I think we greatly overachieved to finish where we did. This year I expect us to be top 3. Big difference in my mind.

TEEN ROCKETT’s TAKE

Biggest coup: Giroud. Unlike Mike, I won’t be surprised if he scores 20. I think for the price, the return is going to be higher than any other player we purchased this season.

The Biggest Surprise: Junior. I am letting my romanticism for his story cloud my judgement, but considering what he did with Crotone last year, I don’t think it is inconceivable we get five or six goals and a few assists platooning with Saele.

The Biggest Oversight: Not solidifying RW and AM. I just really don’t understand how we waited until the dying hours to address one and chose to take a considerable gamble putting the load all on Brahim for the other. Runner up will be not selling Kessie and or Romagnoli. But talk to me this time next year.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10; I am impressed with what we did for 80 million and I think we are a more rounded team, with depth in almost every position. We did a good job balancing youth and veterans. Additionally, moves like Pellegri, Traore and Clinton (the latter two being youths) are the kind of moves that get me excited for the future. But while I think we’re capable of about the same point total as last season I’m not sure we did enough to beat out Atalanta, Juve, Inter and to a lesser extent Napoli, and yes I’m saying it without really believing it, Roma. And from a strictly business standpoint, not capitalizing the Don and Hakan departures were massive mistakes. There’s no way around that.

Are we a better team than last year: We’re more complete. We will see what that translates to on the pitch. I’d have a tough time saying that we are out and out better, but if not, we didn’t take a step back.

Allright Leoni. That’s that. In the damn books. Sound off below and feel free to hit us with your own biggest coup, biggest surprise, major oversight, overall rating, and whether we are better or not.

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orbemnews · 3 years

Link

Their Olympics Are Already Canceled A few years ago, Bud Kling had three rooms added to his house in the Pacific Palisades in California. The builders used extra concrete along with a reinforcing metal beam — and not because Mr. Kling was expecting a crowd. The rooms weren’t for people. They were designed to house and showcase his 30,000-strong collection of Olympic pins, the colorful and endlessly varied souvenirs that have been bought and traded at the Games for decades. Even when the builders were finished, Mr. Kling, a 74-year-old tennis coach, still had far more pins than he could fit in his home. He also owns about 100,000 “trading pins” — multiples of the same pin that can be swapped — and he hauls some of them to the Games. His stash is stacked in his garage and in rented storage space. “I have a very patient wife,” said Mr. Kling, unnecessarily. When organizers of the Tokyo Olympics announced that the 2020 Games would be delayed for a year and, in March, that no overseas spectators would be allowed into the country, few were as despondent as Mr. Kling and other hard-core Olympic pin traders. To them, the Games are only partly about sports. For every minute they spend watching competition, they spend one minute — maybe two — trading pins, either in impromptu scrums outside venues or at designated trading centers. The collapse of the pin trading market will hardly register in the ledger of losses incurred by the Tokyo Games, an enterprise that the country’s organizers say will cost more than $15 billion. About $3 billion of that stems from renegotiating contracts caused by the yearlong delay. But stuffing the national coffers hasn’t been the point of hosting since the price tag for throwing the world’s largest gathering started to soar more than a decade ago. Countries vie for the Games hoping for the ultimate look-at-me moment, a slick, multiweek advertisement aimed at the entire planet. Tokyo will get a healthy portion of self-promotion if the Games go ahead, which organizers vow will happen despite national polls suggesting that an overwhelming number of people in Japan — who are contending with a prolonged fourth virus wave — would prefer another delay or outright cancellation. For Olympics goers around the world, these Games will be remembered as the party they had to skip. That includes about 250 pin traders, people who plan their lives around the two-year interval between the Summer and Winter Olympics. Never heard of Olympic pins? They are a portable, wearable bit of promotion and branding for athletic delegations, national Olympics committees, corporate sponsors, news media outlets and cities bidding for the Games. (The New York Times makes its own pins and gives a couple dozen to reporters covering events.) To the unmoved, the pins are the kind of $7 memento you toss in a drawer, or a wastepaper basket, as soon as you return from the Games. Thousands of people buy pins, and many spontaneously trade them once they see a trading hive outside a venue. Host countries cater to both casual and ardent fans by producing vast quantities of pins, which are sold at souvenir shops. Japan was prepared for pin-crazed crowds. The country’s organizers have made 600 different officially licensed pins, a spokesman at the Games said, and there are 12 souvenir stores set up around Tokyo. Now, demand for this bounty is an open question. It’s not just that Japanese fans will be the only ones admitted to the Games. Trading is such a hands-on, face-to-face activity that there are worries that it might be discouraged — or even banned. The press office at the Games would not comment other than to send along a “playbook,” published in February, outlining safety protocols. Pin trading wasn’t mentioned, but one of the principles stated that attendees should “keep physical interactions with others to a minimum” and “avoid closed spaces and crowds where possible.” That makes pin trading all but impossible. For years, Coca-Cola, a longtime Olympic sponsor, has built pin trading centers on the grounds of the Games. A spokeswoman said there would be pin-related promotions, including a chance to acquire pins representing Japan’s 47 prefectures. Whether the company will open and host a pin trading center in Tokyo, the spokeswoman said, is still under evaluation. For years, Mr. Kling has been recruited by Coca-Cola to help oversee and manage its pin trading centers, a volunteer position that has made him the unofficial pin czar of the Games. Among his many roles is to enforce etiquette and unwritten rules. That means ensuring that tables are shared fairly, counterfeit pins are weeded out and newcomers aren’t overcharged. “Occasionally I’ll hear an older guy tell a kid, ‘My pin is much bigger, so you need to trade me two for it,’” he said. “We don’t want anyone grinding down an 8-year-old.” Some are in it for the money. There are more than 80,000 eBay listings for Olympic pins. These speculators had a golden moment in Nagano, Japan, in 1998, when, for reasons that nobody ever explained, the organizers failed to produce enough pins. A trading frenzy ensued. A few people earned $40,000 in a few days. The pin economy had a tulip mania moment. “Guy I know made a down payment on his house with money he earned in Nagano,” said Sid Marantz, a pin trader who has been to 17 Olympics and is another regular volunteer at Coca-Cola pin trading centers. At 76, Mr. Marantz is retired from a family business that sold food ingredients, like salt and sugar. He got his hands on his first pin when his parents took him to the 1960 Olympics in Rome. He was a huge fan of Rafer Johnson, an all-rounder out of U.C.L.A. who won gold in the decathlon that year. “I was just swept away by the whole thing,” he said. He attended his next Games in Montreal in 1976 on a tour with Track & Field News, to which he subscribed. That was the first time, he said, that spectators got involved in pin trading on a large scale. It’s an affordable hobby, at least in Mr. Marantz’s practiced hands. He estimates his whole collection has cost him about $10,000. That’s in large part because after the 1996 Games in Atlanta, he and three friends learned about a warehouse in Colorado — home to the United States Olympic & Paralympic Committee — filled with 750,000 unsold pins. They chipped in $35,000 and bought the entire lot. Each kept about 40,000 pins, and they sold the rest to pin collectors around the world. “We called it ‘the motherlode,’” he said of the acquisition. “It means I go to the Games with pins that effectively cost me nothing. That’s why I’ll trade with absolutely anyone.” Beyond making new friends, pin trading is about the quest for obscure, hard-to-find treasures. These include pins from African delegations, because they tend to field small teams. (Burundi’s pins are especially prized; the country brought nine athletes to Rio in 2016.) Any country that has recently changed its name will find itself in the cross hairs of pin traders. That means you, North Macedonia, which will compete at its first Games since Greece compelled it to add “North” to its name. The pins of Japanese media companies have been sought after ever since Nagano, because they are often adorned with cute cartoon mascots. This time around, though, not even this genre will be hot. Pins from Tokyo 2020 — yes, it’s keeping the name, never mind the actual date — are going to be worth next to nothing, Mr. Marantz predicts. Supply is going to swamp demand. Both Mr. Marantz and Mr. Kling had purchased thousands of dollars’ worth of tickets to events in Tokyo, money that has since been refunded. Only recently have they begun to accept that they really won’t be heading to Japan in a few weeks. On Friday, Japan’s government extended a state of emergency in Tokyo and other prefectures until at least June 20. “It’s like a boulder falling,” Mr. Kling said of being forced to skip the Games, “and hitting you in the head.” Source link Orbem News #Canceled #Olympics

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metalifecoach · 4 years

Text

Why Change is Important, even when you uncertain.

Conversations for Transformation; September 2020.

How can I resolve uncertainty during a pandemic, find purpose, and improve the quality of my life?

Why do we need a big event, or disaster to make a change, or before I decide to improve my life. It has been said that people get comfortable in routines (even if circumstances create discomfort), because of the uncertainty change brings. Think about moving house, or starting a new job, the effort involved in the transition can be overwhelming, loaded with great uncertainty. On a bigger scale, a ‘Transitional Movement’ refers to an experience, or process a person or group goes through moving from a position of belief and social standing, personal, sexual, or spiritual orientation, condition of health, mental-state, or wealth, or any particular culture and business disposition to another. Such a movement allows the individual or group to function with greater growth potential, harmony, and passion for life. Power is found in how we purposefully chose the way we relate to anything that happens, instead of trying to control it or force acculturated ideas, e.g. ethnocentric principles of gender, religion, and social standing, unto others. Unfortunately, the majority of people spend most of their lives in a career, or pursuing goals that falls short of inspiration, simply because they are afraid to make the move, or don’t want to make effort to improve things. And yet, every person has a massive potential locked in the combination of their skills, talents and abilities, knowledge and life experiences that once they moved, to shift opened a path of greater significance and purpose in life.

My personal life path radically changed direction the day I started addressing the following question; “Does compliance with my cultural or religious upbringing support an environment where I can be real, live out my dreams, express a profound spirituality, have personal significance, and ultimately … does it inspire happiness, or does it cause greater stress?” Once decided that I needed to change some things, I started paying attention to the signs and signals through the events unfolding in my life. And coincidentally it indicated for a long time that a shift in direction was needed. I was just reluctant to take the step. But once I connected with a Coach and Mentor to guide me, my journey home commenced. So today, I’m going to focus on the ingredients that constitute a winning recipe for transition.

What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail? One reason people resist change is because they focus on what they have to give up instead of what they have to gain.

Moving from what is to what if - Envisioning what can be.

Most people have aspirations for a better life, a dream in the heart for themselves, and a desire for the greater good of humanity. When you were a child, you believed that anything is possible, so why then did you settle for less? What happened? Is it the influence of our schooling system, expectations, and financial fears imposed by family and society, lack of belief, or practical knowledge? Or is it a matter of doubt, and cynicism thrust on you by mass media intimidation that deceived you to believe that happiness is only meant for the elect or elite? And yet, we all enjoy inspirational slogans and stories that encourage. Positively communicating and appreciating all that we as humans collectively and individually achieved in the past and can still accomplish, builds capacity for greater dreams, and hope for the future. But rarely do we create a space in our own lives for the development of the inner qualities that cultivates external skills to support those dreams, and foster trust, faith, and growth. Seeking newness in life and passion for transformation may also run out of steam when we don’t have a support structure in place to facilitate transition, recovery, and personal improvement. After another dose of complaints on Social Media about how bad things are, the shortfalls and lack of services found in society, I just wondered – Isn’t it time that we move past focusing on what is not, and instead re-imagine what can be.

Any temporary satisfaction of the fashionable haves, and comforts of peer acceptance will only outlast the next idea of someone’s video clip going viral, until you are willing to alter the beliefs that support a trend-chasing lifestyle. We know that the constant pressure and strive to acquire the next best thing is only a recipe for exhaustion. Under pressure of the expectation set by an older generation and the peer-acceptance we crave trying to adjust to the new normal people quickly get discouraged, feel a failure, lose faith in the greater good, and stop dreaming about a better future. That is until we start asking the important questions; “Without this striving to fit-in, the craving of the have-to-haves, or superimposed should-be pictures … who am I, what do I really want, and what is the purpose for life”?

There is nothing wrong with desiring only the best for yourself. But without having a clear vision of how you want to create a hopeful positive future, is like throwing a magnet into a whirlpool of the unknown, and gradually over time feeling a nudge of been drawn to a new or particular interest, passion and desire for change. And if you are willing to stay sleeping on the coach hoping for it to happen, that is also a choice. But what else can spark a dream and hope for a better future, without the need for a disastrous event to get us up from the coach? Maybe the testimony of how someone else has endured troubled circumstances, initiated a plan of action by using their own limited resources, and turned adverse conditions around to improve society, will benefit. See it’s not what happens that determines your future, but what you do about what happens. From these and other stories, we learn that hope for the future is fueled through the examples of people taking action.

What if you’re Personal Transformation cause a Transitional Movement?

What is necessary for any person to initiate the first steps of their own growth and improvement of circumstances? It all starts with a commitment to focus on their own inner transition first - a shift in attitude, perception, orientation, and mind-set about their circumstances, and the discipline to pursue the things that will enable them to follow their true calling. It is also the basis for empowered life-decisions, because it encourages the person or group to prioritise the mechanisms that will equip them with knowledge and tools needed to express their goal to pursue purpose and personal significance – instead of waiting for an external world to change by itself. Difficult life situations may just be the catalyst that lead individuals to seek new resources and opportunities, and from seeming catastrophe may come the greatest possibilities and strength ever imagined. When you remain open and willing to flow in the school of life, this movement that is initiated by adverse circumstances, may just be the greatest transition you’ve ever encountered. There is purpose and meaning in any life-event and experience, and sometimes it is the spark we need to be authentic and discover our true purpose in life. Direction determines destination, and sometimes all you need to do is to adjust the direction a small bit to arrive at a new, and better destination.

This is why transformative discussions are so powerful. Transformative Coaching is not meant to give you answers, but disrupt your minds excuses for failure and challenges you to discover the power of your soul. It builds on an appreciation and celebration of what has emerged in your life, even when it is an awareness of temporary shortfall, and it opens up venues for new growth through exploration of different opportunities and possible future outcomes for individuals and groups in transition.

“Appreciation is a wonderful thing; it makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.” (Voltaire). You know all of those things you’ve always wanted to do? You should go do them.

Having great ideas alone is not enough, but reflection on the direction and implementation of the vision, is wise. Many entrepreneurs and philanthropists run out of steam when they do not connect with suitable support and accountability structures to mentor their growth. While a good business-plan and strategy on paper may guide the unfolding vision for possibilities - connecting again to the motivation behind the action steps builds resilience and keep individuals motivated through transformation. When darkness, economic hardships and pandemic threat sets in, dreams, ambitions and ideals quickly run out steam. When the inner-fire is depleted, it is imperative to place support structures in place, and a reflective conversation with your spiritual counselor, or Life-Coach may keep you motivated and on track. Through supportive interaction and reflective guidance, not only is understanding gained, but newness emerges, clarity, direction, and determination is generated to take action whether for personal growth, business, or community projects.

From Concept to action steps, and rebuilding your world.

At this point, we may ask what it is that propels change. Yes, I know we don’t like change, and interesting enough the kind of change that is mostly met with resistance is those fueled by our own grumpy discontent about not getting our way, or being unhappy with personal discomfort and shifting routines. Never give up. I know that current social and economic difficulties may cause many to feel lost and disconnected with life. When you feel you have lost your way, there is hope, and your circumstances is helping you find new direction to where you need to be and doing what you needs to do.

Transitions is more about how we are in the world during these challenges and an awareness of the meaning why we occupy this space called Earth, rather than what we do. When we address the inner tension created due to a state of affairs and disharmony, discomfort and short-fall created by irresponsible and self-centered human action, and then out of concern arise with compassion that compels you to do something to heal broken affairs. That is when we know and respond to calling. But how do you find meaning and direction in all this chaos?

Finding your purpose in life, is your roadmap to your destiny. You’ve got the wrong roadmap when you’re in a rut and life starts getting you down. It’s never too late to find your purpose and start living the dreams of your heart, that which embodies meaning to you. Each of us in a special way, is destined to make a difference in this world. When we find courage to believe in yourself, your significance and purpose in life, even when no-body else does – That’s what enables you to take a stand for the things that is important to you. How will you then live the next phase of your life, and what do you need to do to get where you want to be? Are you overwhelmed by your own personal needs awareness and still complaining about why e.g. the government doesn’t change certain conditions? Or have you looked through the window to the world at large and started thinking outside the traditional box of conventional approaches to earn a living? What other possibilities exist? These are important questions you will be asked during transformational discussions, but are essential if you want to find your destiny, rekindle your passion, and step into your power. The purpose if transformative conversations are to build inner resilience, to enable individuals to transition into the next stage of their lives.

Do something today that your future self will thank you for.

Deepening the process is when dreams are structured in a more formal expression, giving flesh to your passions and ideals in the way it is expressed in and through you, and in what you do in the world. It feels very different than the initial state of despair, confusion, and disorientation. For example, some feel they want to express their talents in a way through which they can make a living, and at the same time, e.g. to create jobs for others as well. The deepening process of transformative conversations organize thoughts and giving it structure. You don’t have to be a formal organization to transform your community, or have an impact on society. You don’t need to belong to a specific Religious or Business Groups to implement transformative tools, and any people movement initiative has the potential of generating income that support yours and others well-being. It just ask that you tap into the knowledge resources available and take the initiative to build network (Interfaith and Cross-Culturally), and integrate this resources to build a New Humanity. Connectivity builds the cohesion that evolves in deeper meaning and significance in what we are and do. Conversations that cultivate this capacity are generated not only through Personal Coaching sessions, but can also be encouraged through Transition Groups. It is a way of building a new life beyond the crisis, it is the strengthening of the vision and expansion of ourselves in the way we embody a new consciousness in the world, in and through the enterprises, and work we do ethically and practically as stewards of the earth. Meta-Life Coaching, facilitates many of these kinds of Transition Groups, some focus on Spiritual Development and discusses e.g. the practice of meditation. While others focus on Personal Empowerment and negotiating through life’s challenges, whether it is work related, relationships, or even gender expression, and the social skills needed to thrive. Contact me at [email protected], should you like to be included.

Hope for a better future is not a wish, nor just a desire for things to be different. It is a course of action, combining mind and heart. Your future can be better and can be brighter, and we each have the power within us to make it happen. If this time have not taught us to pay closer attention to our Soul’s yearning, then we still believe that lesson from the past don’t impact your decisions in the future, and neither would you believe that the actions you can take today is vital for a better future. Because if your quest has been fruitless till now and you yearn for significance and meaning, it is because you were looking at the wrong places, asking the wrong questions. It is time! Something needs to happen! Let’s connect! Yes I had gone through lonely nights and have lost it all, Yes I had to start over on many occasion, Yes I followed social rules and expectations and some I have broken to my own detriment, Yes I allowed my logical mind to dominate decisions that will satisfy the approval of family and friends. And in the end …. I felt disconnected and lost, hopelessly distressed and unhappy. I’m here to tell you there is a better way and want to connect to help you discover possibilities, to empower and enable you to have greater resourcefulness in the way you live and express who you are, that will improve what you can offer as service to your community. Transformative Coaching discussions will allow you to determine your own impact on society, by helping you to align your passions and interests with opportunities for growth. For more information or to book a Conversation, go to https://metalifecoaching.co.za/contact-us.php.

#life-purpose #counseling #conversations #spirituality #spiritualgrowth #life-coaching #out of chaos #personal development #self-discovery #uncertainty

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simplemlmsponsoring · 6 years

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5 Key Factors of Becoming a Successful Affiliate Marketer on Facebook

After thousands of hours of critiquing the Facebook campaigns of our students here at Elite Marketing Pro…

I’ve seen over and over again what works and what doesn’t in social media prospecting.

And while some students quickly start kicking butt with their ads, others struggle and don’t seem to grasp why they aren’t finding the same success.

Frankly, you start noticing predictable patterns when you’ve been doing this stuff long enough.

And I’ve identified five factors that make ALL the difference between being a successful affiliate and an unsuccessful affiliate on Facebook.

Now, you’re going to be kind of surprised, because it’s not going to be as simple as…

“Okay, click this option to place your ad in this particular spot.”

“Use this type of copy in your ad.”

So if you’re looking for “ninja tricks”…

You’re in the wrong spot.

But stick with me and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

It’s going to be mostly mindset related, believe it or not.

After reading my suggestions you might think…

“Oh okay, Id never considered doing this or that, maybe I should give it a try.”

Okay, let’s talk about the difference between those having success with Facebook ads and those that don’t.

First…

Successful affiliates know they’re able to serve others.

Let me explain…

Many times when I see beginners who are struggling with Facebook ads, I’ll ask them…

“How come you’re not getting excited about your business?”

Or…

“How come you’re not up there to lead everybody else?”

They tell me…

“But, I don’t know anything,”

Or…

“But, I’m not a guru.”

That’s their excuse.

And they tell me…

“Well, I want to hide behind a website.”

Or…

“I want to hide behind a generic name so I don’t have to put myself out there, because I’m not a ‘Ray Higdon’ or ‘Eric Worre’ or ‘Ferny Ceballos.’”

Ever had that thought?

I think we all do at some point.

Well, the truth is this:

If you’ve been going through the Elite Marketing Pro curriculum or coaching, or any of the courses you have in your back office…

You already know 99.9% more than most other people in your niche!

Yes, even if you’ve only been doing this a couple of months…

You’ve already acquired a lot of knowledge regarding building a network marketing business online.

This fact gets a little lost on people, especially when you don’t necessarily have the results you want yet.

Maybe you’re not making six-figures in your business yet, maybe you’re not even making five-figures a year—heck, maybe you are still waiting to make your first sale.

But guess what, you already have the ability to market online—to set up a capture page, to place a Facebook ad, to do a Facebook Live, to send an email broadcast to your list.

All these things are skills that the overwhelming majority of people in our space don’t have!

So with that said, maybe you’re not a “guru” yet, but you know a LOT more than most other people, and you’re able to teach what you know to other people.

Get excited about that, because it’ll come through in your copy!

I see ads ALL the time that are extremely BORING.

Can you guess how effective boring ads are?

In contrast, excited affiliates communicate differently.

Take any of our top affiliates and notice how they look in their Facebook Lives.

Read their ad copy.

Pay attention to how they look in their pictures.

You can always tell how excited they are to be in business!

They’re not just writing some generic stuff like…

“I struggled in my network marketing business, until I found the three things in this blog post.”

Or…

“Click here, check it out, change your life.”

That’s not being any different than anybody else, that’s not getting anybody excited.

Get excited about your business and that will be reflected in your ads!

You can tell when a student isn’t really excited about their business.

Because when you look at their ads, you think…

“Hummmm…”

They’re taking a self-conscious selfie in horrible light.

Or worse, they have somebody take a picture of them in their backyard and they’re a tiny speck in a big picture.

That doesn’t work!

So get excited about the fact that YOU are the personality of YOUR business!

Elite Marketing Pro is not your business.

Elite Marketing Pro is Elite Marketing Pro’s business.

It’s the same with any opportunity.

YOU are YOUR business, so get excited about that fact.

And start branding yourself as an online marketing or network marketing expert.

Next…

It’s okay to use “training wheels” when you first start out.

We don’t expect you to know anything about marketing online or running Facebook traffic, which is why we provide all our affiliates swipe content and ad copy so you can get familiar with the platform.

This enables you to figure things out one step at a time, so you’re not overwhelmed with navigating the ad platform, writing copy, and interpreting your metrics all at once.

Our goal is to get you up and running quickly by making small steps.

The problem comes when you get don’t grow beyond this initial phase of competency.

I see soo many affiliates who spend a few bucks and then complain if they don’t make their money back.

They just give up and say…

“Facebook Ads don’t work!”

In contrast…

Top affiliates are always testing out new ideas and copy

They’re not just swiping somebody else’s copy and hoping it’s going to work.

They’re always testing and experimenting with their copy and Facebook Lives.

They have their own voice and aren’t content to just sit back and swipe.

So, if they see content that gets a lot of likes and shares that they want to repurpose, then they take the time to make it their own.

They take a concept and personalize it with their own brand, so it’s different from everyone else.

Think about it…

If you’ve got a small town with ten McDonald’s and one Arby’s, which do you think is going to get more business per restaurant?

Probably the Arby’s, because the McDonald’s are all going to be the same, right?

One Arby’s is going to stand out in a city of ten McDonald’s.

Because hey, sometimes you want something different and you don’t feel like more of the same.

Not sure that’s the best example, haha, but I think you get where I’m going with that.

Next…

What do I mean by consistent action?

First, they start by actually placing Facebook ads.

Then they record their results.

It’s super important that you record your results using an Excel spreadsheet.

You record the money spent, the number of clicks, the click through rate, any relevant factors about your picture, your ad copy, your relevance score, and any other pertinent information you need to track.

Look, you spent money on these ads to get this data, so you must record those results!

You want to see what worked and what didn’t work when you’re social media prospecting.

Then you place a new ad based on a new idea from what didn’t work to try to get to something that does work.

What usually happens is this: the students who aren’t successful will run an ad, maybe they spend fifty bucks on it, and if they don’t make their money back right away, they’ll get frustrated and they won’t even bother recording their results.

All they know is they didn’t make money right away.

That’s not how this works.

At the end of the day…

The ONLY way you’re going to make money at paid advertising is by learning from your mistakes

So, if you run an ad and don’t pay attention to your results (other than the fact that you want profits) and you don’t try again based on what you learned…

It’s basically like blindfolding yourself and trying to throw darts at a dartboard.

It’s going to be very hard for you to find success that way.

Successful affiliates are constantly keeping track of their metrics and their ads.

They’re constantly keeping track of how much they spent versus how much they actually made.

People that actually track are the ones that get better because they can see their progress.

If you spend a couple months haphazardly placing ads here or there, not really tracking your progress, after a couple months you may or may not know if you’ve made or lost money.

Because even if you know you lost money, you’re not able to see that you might be really close to profitability.

In fact, you’re probably a lot closer than you think at that point, but you have no frickin’ clue because you never bothered to write down your results.

If you don’t track your results, you’re not going to be successful

That’s all there is to it.

I see it with all top affiliates; it’s what every single one of them does.

They look at their results, how much they make, and they test and tweak based on their numbers.

So don’t neglect this step.

If you’re not tracking your progress, then it’s going to be really hard to make money with your ads.

Look, nobody likes to lose money.

Obviously, it’s not a fun thing, but top affiliates look at advertising as buying leads that will eventually turn into customers.

They realize they’re building a business.

Where I see most people get tripped up at the beginning is when they come in and they spend money and they say…

“Okay, I spent $50; I got six leads, no sales. This sucks; this doesn’t work.”

Well, here’s the thing…

These leads are now yours.

You need to do more with them than just sit there and let them marinate.

They might buy something down the line, so…

You’ve got to play the long game

You got to look at it as…

“These are six leads that I can market to over and over and over again. I can not only market other Elite Marketing Pro products, but at some point, when I have my own products, they’ll already be loyal customers.”

The top affiliates look at leads like a long-term relationship.

So while yes, nobody likes to lose money, but a lead is somebody you can market to over and over, and over, and over, and over again.

At some point, that person will likely buy.

Not everybody buys right away, you know.

But unsuccessful affiliates are the ones that look at those leads and say…

“Well, I didn’t make money so this was a waste of money; this sucks.”

Until you learn you need to build a REAL business and you first must PAY for those leads who will eventually turn into customers who make you money—you’re not going to be successful.

At the end of the day, if you’re constantly trying to cover your front-end costs and make money off of the front end, you’re in for disappointment, because it’s just not likely to be profitable for you.

The real profits are in the lifetime value of your leads.

Finally, one last thing.

Successful affiliates are always willing to test out new ideas.

They don’t wait to ask permission before they can take action.

Now, the biggest hang-up I see, and this is probably the biggest one of all, is so many people don’t take action because they want permission from somebody else first…

“Should I run this particular type of ad copy; should I run this particular type of image?”

Well, you know, at the end of the day, it’s the market that’s going to decide.

There’s no mentor that’s going to be able to tell you…

“Oh yes, this is absolutely going to work for sure!”

It’s the market that decides if an ad works or if it doesn’t

So waiting for somebody else to give you permission to run an ad and say…

“Okay, this copy’s good!”

Or…

“Okay, this image is absolutely going to work for you!”

…is a complete WASTE of your time.

Now, it’s perfectly okay to get feedback on your RESULTS.

But the fact is that successful affiliates who do well in this business get curious, come up with new ideas, and take action on those ideas.

They don’t wait for somebody else to give them permission to take action, because the people that wait for others to give them permission get stuck.

Instead of taking action they get lost in the sphere of uncertainty and unproductivity and they say…

“I don’t know what to do. This sucks. This doesn’t work.”

Well, you haven’t done anything at this point, you haven’t gotten any data.

Get a little curious and take a look at some of the other stuff that’s working.

Write some new ad copy and give it a shot.

You don’t know until you try.

Before I close here’s a newsflash…

If you think…

“Well I need somebody else to tell me if this ad’s going to work.”

Or…

“I need somebody else to tell me this is a good idea before I run it.”

If you want somebody else to tell you what to do and what type of ads to run…

Then go get a job as a Facebook ads manager.

They’re hiring all over the place.

Because if you always rely on somebody to tell you what to do in your business, you know what that actually is?

You don’t have a business, you have a BOSS.

If you want to be an entrepreneur, you’ve got to be able to make these decisions yourself.

You’ve got to be able to get curious, see what’s in the market, test, and take the risk.

At the end of the day, you must be willing to put your butt out on the line.

If you wait for somebody to tell you what to do, you’re going to get stuck

And when it doesn’t work out, it’s going to sting that much more.

You’re going to get frustrated and not know what you should be doing next.

So empower yourself to get in the driver’s seat and take control of the wheel.

Start using these five steps in your business persistently and consistently and you’ll eventually see the type of results that all successful affiliates see.

Now, I know that everything I shared was pretty high-level and conceptual today.

But it’s important to know how to THINK about the advertising process instead of always focusing on the nitty-gritty, nuts-and-bolts tactics.

And even though there’s no such thing as “copy paste profits” in the real business world, I still highly recommend taking us up on an over-the-shoulder tour of…

Our highest-converting ads and traffic campaigns

We’ve put together a FREE, step-by-step tutorial that reveals our exact advertising process in a 100% FREE online masterclass, hosted by none other than Tim Erway, co-founder and CEO here at Elite Marketing Pro, who’s responsible for generating over 30 million dollars in online revenue (and counting).

Simply pick a time and register right here.

You’ll discover how you can put together a profitable ad campaign in just 10 minutes a day with as little as $10 in initial ad spend.

In fact…

You’ll see how this exact formula to turned a $10 test campaign into $141,246.30 in sales.

And Tim will show exactly how we did it.

Hint: taking the five tips you just learned to remix our most successful campaigns is a surefire recipe for success.

So if you haven’t registered yet, what are you waiting for?

Pick a time that works for you to attend Tim’s traffic workshop right here.

Until next time,

Matt Baran Traffic Specialist Elite Marketing Pro

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