#listen i saw that panel and i had to deep dive into this game again to prepare everything for my playthrough

[alongtidesoflight]

🌱Robin (he/him) [ Zariel Tiefling • Druid ]🌱

[themurphyzone]

PatB: Nova Ch 2

Insert funny one-liner here. Cause I can’t think of anything. 

Ch 2: Space Cadet

New Selenian Date 3015.3.12

Terran satellite conversations are useless drivel! Nothing but pomp and circumstance about trivial subjects that don’t help us plan our global domination! All this curiosity about planets and star systems beyond your own, yet you actively sabotage your own progress in space exploration! Hypocritical morons. When Snowball and I rule Terra, we shall usher in an age of science and rationality, because you obviously cannot be trusted to run your own planet without blowing it up several times over! Why, you have less intelligence in your collective brains than I have in my pinky!

Alright. Just inhale…exhale. Inhale...exhale.

I needed that tirade. Progress on the Conquistador has slowed and is approaching an impasse of the highest caliber. The outside paneling requires special attention and shielding because we do not wish to burn upon entering Terra’s atmosphere. However, the thermal protective system we’ll be developing will likely be rudimentary at best, fatal at worst due to lack of top of the line equipment. The Selenians managed to conserve enough fuel in their ships to leave the colony and presumably return to their original planet, with the exception of one ill-fated vessel which experienced a malfunction when they first arrived on New Selene.

I have no choice but to visit the crash site of that particular ship with Snowball. If fortune is on our side, we’ll have a ragged version of the paneling we need, but…I will be in close contact with the electrical firing of Snowball’s neurons. An unfortunate side effect of my genetic enhancement from a mos’s natural inclination to electricity. The distance from Penumbra doesn’t help matters either.

Ah…I’ll cut this transmission off here. Snowball’s calling in, for once.

Signing off for now, the Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

“He called my name,” the mouse whispered, awestruck by the deep voice that crackled through the chipped Walkman radio. He rolled his skinny tail between his paws, joyful tears swimming in his vision and making everything blurry-whirly. “He said my name!”

He had many names alright. From Gouda to Zort to No, We Don’t Know Why That Subject Says Narf. From what he remembered of his parents and Sis, they called him Chchchrree mixed with sniffy noises. It was hard to say for everyone else though, even him. It was the sniffing part, really. It tripped everyone up.

But none of his names fit him quite like Pinky.

Oh, he was being rude, wasn’t he? He may be a sliced gene lab mouse, but he was a sliced gene lab mouse with manners!

The newly named Pinky fiddled with the slider on the Walkman. There were a lot of numbers, and he didn’t know which one let his voice through, so he eeny-meeny-miney-moed between all of them until his finger landed on 92.

92 was a good number. Nice, funny, and a pretty figure.

“Haha, narf! Hello, the Brain!” Pinky laughed into the Walkman. “I know you’re probably busy with the Conquesowhatsit, so you can just listen to this whenever you’re free! Anyway, I’m Pinky and I’ve been listening to your messages for months! And you said my name just now! It made me so happy I cried!”

Nothing but crackling static answered. A click came from the hallway, the aircon kicking in and blowing a cool wind through the lab. Machinery hummed, screens flickered, squeaks from other mice echoed.  

Pinky waited. He would wait however long he needed to. The voice would reply, he was sure of it.

“Brain, is it…is it lonely up there?” Pinky asked. He was very bad at the waiting game. He lost to himself every time. “You sound sad. And grumpy. Grumpy-sad, even. What makes you happy? The stars? I’m happy looking at the twinkly stars. They must be even prettier from space.”

Pinky waved at the gorgeous night sky. Countless stars and a silver moon to watch over them all. Pinky loved having a cage with such a view. The Brain might have a big telly-scope he could see Terra with! Terra, a lovely name for a lovely world! And to think Pinky had been calling it Earth like a silly-billy goat gruff.

Though the Brain might not be able to see him…he was practically the size of a mouse after all. Unless Pinky climbed to the highest point of the Great Mall of China! Everyone knew the Great Mall of China could be seen from space! And he could eat yummy dumplings there too!

Pinky twiddled his thumbs. He shouldn’t keep the Brain away from his super important work much longer. “Tell Snowball I said hi, okay? And thank you for the name. Same time again tomorrow night, right? Good night, the Brain. Sleep tight and don’t let the spacebugs bite. Cause then it gets itchy. Poit.”  

There was no answer. There wasn’t usually. Maybe the Brain was shy. It was okay though. He was probably saying good night too, in his own grumpy shy way.

Pinky turned off the Walkman and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. Then he slipped back into his cage, the bars spaced wide enough for him to slink through. He was still working on opening the cage door. TV always made escaping cages look so easy.

His straw bed was bathed in a patch of silver moonbeams tonight. That was good. Light always helped him sleep easier. Pinky flopped into the straw and pulled Mr. Button close, like his parents had done for him and Sis when they were babies. Mr. Button was hard, round, and green, but he was still a good cuddle buddy.

He had a big day of wheel running, maze running, and running to Pharfignewton’s stable tomorrow. Best to get some shuteye now and be bright-eyed and floppy-tailed tomorrow. He fell asleep with Mr. Button cradled loosely in his paws, dreaming of a land filled with delicious cheese.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky ran on his wheel for his pre-breakfast exercise, finished off the remaining food pellets in his bowl, and even squeezed in a little pampering time before he was scooped up by the tail and dropped into a maze.

It was routine, and how he loved all sorts of routines! Bonking into walls nose-first was always fun, especially when he saw dizzy circling stars until he fell over like a limp noodle. Of course, he never could finish a maze, which made many of the humans puzzled and confuzzled while they scratched their heads and snapped pictures with their smartphones.

Mazes were hard. If he bounced high enough and clung to the wall like a Spidermouse, he could see the yummy cheese at the very end, but he wasn’t very good at getting there. He even tried the summoning spell he’d seen in one of the Harry Potter movies so the cheese would come to him instead, but his comes-and-goes telephonetic magic skills didn’t help him either.

The day passed like normal. Get lost in maze, lunch break, try another maze until he got more lost than the people stuck on an island in that one very confusing show, until he was finally brought back to his cage before the lab closed for the day.

Today, the lab had closed in the mid-afternoon, the sun still shining brightly in a pretty blue sky. Pinky could spend several glorious hours with Pharfignewton before the Brain’s nightly message over the Walkman.

Pinky squeezed through the cage bars, taking a flying leap off the counter and landing belly-down on the squishy seat of a spinning chair. He giggled as the chair slid back and spun a little, then dusted himself off and bowed to an invisible crowd. He’d been improving his landings lately. One of these days he’d definitely perfect his swan dive!

He jumped down to the floor and ran into the kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the bitter scent of leftover coffee in the pot. He’d always been a tea sort of mouse himself. Grabbing hold of the cherry-print towel that hung on the handle of the refrigerator, he counted to three (he probably put too many Mississippi’s between one and two again) and hauled himself up. All those upper body strength videos were coming in handy.

Pinky balanced himself on a thin sliver of handle and the fridge door, then shoved his feet against the handle and stretched himself as far as he could.

“Narf! C’mon, Pinky!” he wheezed, feeling the strain of his tummy and leg muscles. “It’s not bagel warmer science!”

He took a quick breather and gave one final shove. The door opened with a pop and Pinky lost his balance, landing somewhat painfully on the cold bottom of the fridge.

“Just like Iceland in here! Or was that the green one?” Pinky said, picking himself up from the floor and pushing the fridge door open all the way. He didn’t want to be locked in again. Besides, he’d promised Pharfignewton he’d come by today. He’d feel really awful if he broke his promise. “Now if I were a horse, what would I like to eat?”

Pharfignewton couldn’t eat cheese. Something about her tummy being intolerant. It was a little rude of her tummy to be honest, though she’d definitely eat cheese if she could.

Pinky peeked into each drawer, searched through every condiment bottle, but none really caught his eye as something he could bring along.

The leftover club sandwich wasn’t vegetarian. Condiment bottles wouldn’t fit through the mail slot.

Pinky found a box half-filled with sugar lumps, but Pharfignewton was very insistent on watching her figure in preparation for the Kentucky Derby in two months.

And then he spotted a celery snack pack with peanut butter dip on the topmost shelf.

“Egad, that’s perfect!” Pinky exclaimed, shimmying up to the snack pack. He pushed a red Jell-o cup aside and snagged his prize, hugging it to his chest. The only way to make it even tastier was to find raisins so they could make ants on a log, which didn’t look like real ants on real logs at all.

With the snack pack in hand, he hurried to meet Pharfignewton.

o-o-o-o-o

Pharfignewton galloped through the field, her gray mane flowing behind her like a beautiful river. No matter how many times he’d seen her practice, it never failed to amaze him. Her hooves flew like the breeze, her sky blue eyes shining in determination as she pushed herself a little further every day.

Pinky pulled himself up the fence’s wooden boards, kneeling on the flat surfaces and hauling the snack pack up with him. Once he made it to the top of a wide fencepost, he opened the pack and scooped one end of a celery stick into the peanut butter, then waved the coated end in the air.

“AND THERE SHE GOES! IS SHE A BIRD? IS SHE A PLANE? NO, SIRREE BOB! SHE’S PHARFIGNEWTON, THE BEST AND FASTEST RACEHORSE IN THE WORLD!” Pinky shouted, waving the celery stick like a flag.

Pharfignewton whinnied loudly, pouring on the speed as she galloped through a space between two trees and slowed to a brisk trot until she reached Pinky. She swept out a hoof and bowed to an invisible camera, her tail flicking happily.

“Hi, Figgy Pudding! You look amazing out there! Guess what? The Brain gave me a name! I’m Pinky now! Actually, I’m Pinky. He never said Pinkynow, did he?” Pinky grinned, holding the celery stick up to her muzzle. Pharfignewton neighed in delight, and it didn’t take long before all the celery sticks and peanut butter were gone. Practicing always made her work up an appetite.

Pinky licked up the remaining peanut butter, swiping his tongue along his mouth for the lingering peanut-y taste. Then he climbed onto Pharfignewton’s muzzle, her eyes sparkling as she tossed him into the air. Pinky threw out his arms, laughing and sliding down her long neck. He came to a stop at the base of her mane, then flipped himself over and gave her a ginormous hug.

Pharfignewton craned her neck, a blocky smile stretching her muzzle before suddenly rearing up on her hind legs and whinnying triumphantly.

“Zort!” Pinky cried, grabbing fistfuls of her mane to stop himself from falling off. Pharfignewton took off like a firecracker, and Pinky’s body lifted off her neck completely. “Hi-ho, Pharfignewton! Yippie-ki-yay!”

The ground and sky blurred together in a swirl of mashed colors, and the nearby stables were nothing more than thin brown lines in the corner of Pinky’s eye.

“The pack, Fig!” Pinky yelled. “We’ve gotta keep the environment clean!”

Pharfignewton raced by the fencepost, snatching up the plastic lining of the snack pack in her teeth and dropping it into the garbage bin by the stables. “Whoo! Nice and tight turn there!” Pinky said, leaning forward and planting his feet against Pharfignewton’s back to keep his balance. “You’re gonna win the Derby for sure!”

Pharfignewton neighed, leaping over a fallen branch with room to spare.

“Right, and then onto the Triple Crown! Live your dream, Pharfignewton! Live your dream!” Pinky shouted above the roar of the wind.

o-o-o-o-o

Pharfignewton’s owner, a friendly looking fellow with a big bushy beard, called for her as the sun went down. Though Pharfignewton was tired out from all her running, she eagerly trotted over to her owner and accepted a pat on the nose and a carrot. Pinky buried himself in her mane and pretended to be a tiny horse with pretty hair while the owner refilled her feed bucket and penned her in the stall for the night.

Once he was gone, Pinky sat on a wooden post next to Pharfignewton’s head, kicking his feet in the air while she ate her dinner.

“Camptown ladies sing this song! Doo-dah! Doo-dah!” Pinky sang, twirling a long piece of hay in the air as his baton. He pointed the hay at Pharfignewton, who paused in her meal and neighed out the next lyric. “Oh, that was gorgeous! You’re gonna be a real crowd-pleaser at the Derby!”

At the mention of the Derby, Pharfignewton stopped eating completely and rested her muzzle in the space next to Pinky. She nickered, ears pinning against her head. Pinky rubbed his nose against hers, smiling so she wouldn’t worry as much.

“I’ll be alright, Fig,” Pinky whispered. “The Triple Crown’s been your dream since fillyhood. You should go for it. Don’t worry about silly ol’ me.”

Pharfignewton tossed her head back and whinnied, her hoof scraping against the dirt floor.

“I’ll see you off when you leave,” Pinky said. “And watch you on TV. I’ll cheer so loudly you’ll hear me all the way in Kentucky! That’s a promise! A Pinky promise!”

He placed both pinky fingers on Pharfignewton’s muzzle so she could have one as well. He knew she was still worried though. And it was nice to know she cared, but really, he’d be alright in the lab. He had his wheel, food pellets, and the dusty VCR that ACME hadn’t gotten around to replacing yet.

“Poit. The Brain’s message is gonna be coming in soon,” Pinky said. “I’d best get back to the lab. Really wish you could listen him too, but the Walkman won’t fit through the mail slot. I already tried.”

Pharfignewton let him cling to one nostril as she gently lowered him to the stable floor. Pinky gave her muzzle one last broad stroke before setting off, waving goodbye until the stable was out of sight.

The moon rose, the first twinkling stars of the night coming out to play.

“I think you’d like her, the Brain,” Pinky said to the sky. “She’s amazing.”

But he spent too long admiring the stars and missed the left turn on Albuquerque Street. By the time he got back the lab and turned on the Walkman, the message was already ending.

-and traveling to the crash site tomorrow. I hope this venture will yield something useful. Out there, it will be silent. Not even my proximity to Snowball will help. He’s ambitious, I’ll grant him that. Our desire to rule Terra…it’s what keeps us going. Perhaps a little too much, at times. It occasionally gets in the way of…certain things.

There was no sign off. Sometimes there wasn’t, if the Brain felt strongly about something.

Everyone seemed to have a faraway dream that made up their entire being. And while the land of delicious cheese was pretty far from the lab, just touring through it and buying all the refrigerator magnets he could carry didn’t seem to make up his entire being. Not in the way racing was Pharfignewton’s life. Or how the Brain always spoke of a desire to rule Terra.

“If you have a faraway dream, I guess you have to be far away,” Pinky said to Mr. Button, who only wobbled in reply. “It’s okay. I’m happy they have dreams.”

He had his wheel, food pellets, and the dusty VCR after all.

AN: I never made the promise about silly Pinky things. Shhh….

I wanted to keep Brain naming Pinky cause it’s cute (also it’s practical for writing but mostly cute).

To win the Triple Crown achievement, a racehorse needs to win the Kentucky Derby, the Belmont, and the Preakness. Pharfignewton’s got a lofty goal, but Pinky believes in her!

ACME is really bad about updating their tech.

[m-oana-archive]

Heartsease: a Wolfstar fanfiction

Part Seven: “Well That’s Soft”

read part one two three four five six

POV: Remus | Words: 6438 | Beta: @inflictionofopinions <3 | read on AO3

There was an open book atop Remus’ chest, worn-down pages pressing against the thin cotton shirt he wore.  Time and time again he had lifted it up over his head, trying to find motivation or entrancement, or something in between, but nothing allowed him to follow the story for more than a few sentences before getting bored.  Or, rather, distracted, by the thought of Sirius Black with someone who wanted to hold his hand and play with his hair and kiss him.  Someone who could be doing all of those things, as far as Remus knew, right at that very moment.  Remus had to restrain himself from sending his fist through the dorm room’s wall.  

He was staring down the wooden panels when the door next to them opened, exposing James behind it, whose mouth was open as if he was going to speak before closing momentarily at the sight of Remus’ expression.  “Gee, mate.  I know I’m a tad on the late side, but you don’t need to kill me over it.”  He laughed to himself, smile too bright for Remus’ perpetual state of gloom, while making his way across the dorm to Remus’ bed.  

Without permission he laid down next to Remus, forcing him to scoot over.  But James didn’t lay with his head towards the ceiling, like Remus did—like normal people did, Remus thought to himself—but rather faced Remus body with his weight leaned into his elbow, hand supporting his scrunched up face.  His eyes were full of playfulness.  “Why so sad,” he pouted.

Remus huffed while turning around on his side in order to avoid James.  “Let me mourn,” he groaned.  For the first time—Remus slept in a crumpled ball, and so never needed it before— he wished for a larger bed, anything to get away from James’ sticky skin that reeked of sweat and dirt, which was pressing up against his back.  

“C’mon, Moony,” he sang in that decisively James manner.  “It’s going to be a fun day!  I swear!  You just need to get ready to go now.”  In response Remus moaned.  “Okay then,” James sighed.  “I guess I have no other choice than to start tickling you.”  And Remus’ feet hit the floor before James’ hands could even get near the skin of his arm.  He jumped back, away from the edge of the mattress, to face James, who was almost rolling around the bedsheets in laughter.  

“Fine, I’m up,” Remus grumbled, hating how his annoyance didn’t faze James in the slightest.  “What took you so long, anyways?”

“Ran into Evans.”  He said her name with less adoration than usual, a casual shrug gracing his shoulders. and Remus would have asked if something occurred between the two of them if James’ hadn’t continued speaking.  “She feels like she’s coming down with something.”

“That’s too bad,” Remus said, a small grunt and nod from James showing he agreed.  “Do you think she’ll make the game tomorrow?  I know you probably want her there.” ‘Of course I do…” James’ sentence trailed off into nothingness as he stared down at his lap, looking dazed, as if he was having trouble comprehending his own words.  Remus almost asked if he was alright, but he snapped up, sitting up in a harsh and energetic motion.  “But enough about that,” he said.  The smile had returned, but it seemed more strained than usual.  “Today is about us having a good time, talking about our crushes and venting.  So get your ass out of your pajamas, Lupin.  I’m going to go shower.”

He headed to the bathroom quickly, passing by Remus’ frozen body, not giving him the chance to argue or ask questions or do anything except listen.  The book Remus was had open on his chest mere minutes before was now on the floor in a similar open position, so Remus picked that up before starting his morning ritual at midday.  He was on step four, tying shoes, when he heard the bathroom door open again and saw the steam roll into their bedroom.  

James waltzed back through the dorm with a towel around his waist.  “I know you’re on step four,” he said, not bothering to look at Remus while addressing him, making the accuracy that much more impressive, “but you can go back to steps two and three now.  I’m all done in the bathroom”  

Step two was brushing his hair, step three brushing his teeth.  He did both greatly annoyed by the fog on the mirror, on which he wrote “fuck you, James,” between tasks, fully aware that James wouldn’t actually see it but still proud of the action.

To his surprise, when he re-entered the bedroom, James was already ready to go; he was slumped against the wall next to the door frame, wallet out, counting Galleons stuffed in the pocketed sleeves.  Remus’ footsteps creaking against the wooden flooring caused his gaze to shift upward.  A smile grew on his lips.  “You ready?” There was a rich excitement in his tone, bubbly and bright, which contrasted starkly with the emptiness of Remus’ simple nod.  But Remus couldn’t help it: words were vanishing at his throat in confusion because James Potter was staring him up and down in an oddly inquisitive manner.  

“What?” Remus snapped.  The visual interrogation was making him feel uncomfortably exposed.

James was smiling, softly, warmly.  “Nothing.”  His eyes flicked up to Remus’.  “You look nice.”

“Shove off,” Remus scoffed, opening the door and leaving it ajar behind him.  He could hear James vaguely muttering a handful of different protests as he made his way down the staircase, the sounds of shouting getting louder and louder as James caught up to the step behind Remus.  

“You have to cheer up, Remus,” he said.  “It’s not my fault Sirius is on a date with someone else.  I’m just trying to cheer you up and that jumper does look very good with your skin tone.  So please, for the love of God, will you promise you’ll stop being an insufferable pain?”

Now at the base of the the staircase, Remus turned and looked at James, their eyes level, hazel against brown.  “I’m sorry.”  He bounced back and forth between his now-planted feet, shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets.  As if his stance did not say it enough, Remus muttered, so quietly he was surprised James even heard it, “I’m just nervous.”

James’ eyebrows pinched together, his jawline tightening.  “Why?”

“Because… because it feels weird that I’m going to be talking about Sirius with you in this way.”

It felt relieving to say the truth; Remus’ shoulders relaxed and he exhaled deeply.  He should have felt even more relieved when James answered, “Mate, I literally never shut up about Evans.”  

The truth in it made Remus laugh, the difference of it made Remus grimace.  “But Sirius is like your brother, James.  It seems weird.”

“Moons, look at me.”  Remus hadn’t noticed his gaze was on a pair of black Converse as opposed to the hazel eyes he met once again within seconds.  They had a demand to them, yet remained soft—James’ eyes never did anything without at least a sliver of softness.  They made Remus feel safe.  “Yes, Sirius is one of my best friends,” James continued, “but that doesn’t make your feelings for him weird to me.  If anything, I out of everyone understand where you’re coming from the most.  So just say what you want to say.  But don’t feel pressured.  I have enough to say about Lily I can just talk about her the entire time, if necessary.”

And Remus’ eyes were back on those white laces, black rubber gums, silver eyelets.  “Thanks,” he murmured, wishing it was louder, hoping it was sincere.  Because, without James, Remus may have combusted or caved in on himself at this point.  

“C’mon,” James ushered, voice tender and breathy, hand on Remus’ shoulder, guiding him around and to the Common Room door.  For a while, they walked in comfortable silence, James never looking at Remus for long enough to suggest pressure, just fondness.  Remus revelled in the warm afternoon air spreading against his cheeks, the wisps of air sweeping his hair in his face, feeling gloriously peaceful for the first time in days.

They were crossing the bridge, just the two of them—even the breeze calmed down then, as though knowing he would need privacy— and Remus spoke.  “I just, ugh,” he sighed, “I just want to kiss him all the time.”

James peered over at him, eyebrows up suggestively, and the first thought that struck Remus was how similar this reaction was to how James looked at him after speaking to Steph.  The second thought was that James wasn’t lying: he truly didn’t have an issue talking about Sirius in this way.  Remus felt like screaming, his lungs so full of fresh life it was overwhelming.  

But he listened to James speak instead.  “I know what you mean, mate.  Wanting to kiss Evans is like a state of being for me.  Especially when she wears that lip gloss”—he blew out a breath here— “I nearly pass out, Moony.”  

Remus chuckled.  “Yeah, at least Sirius hasn’t started borrowing Lily’s lip gloss.  He talked about it once, and just the thought was enough to make me feel like I was being flung into the fucking sun.”

Obviously, Remus had struck a chord deep inside of James, as he began talking with minimal breathing between words and wild arm gestures that seemed to sweep the air in all directions.  “Okay, so I have this idea that if  I somehow find out where she gets that stuff and buy some for myself, then, obviously, my lips would look that tempting, and she would have to kiss me.  Thoughts?”

The laughter that boomed out of Remus’ stomach—restricting words from forming, but he barely tried to talk before letting the laughter take over—didn’t only sound because James’ suggestion seemed absolutely bizarre, but because of the feeling of finally diving down into the depths of his heart to retrieve his innermost thoughts and having them validated rather than mocked.  For the first time everything seemed so stunningly simple: loving Sirius, talking to James, confiding in Lily.

Until Remus saw Sirius and Ollie lounging in the Three Broomsticks after James graciously opened the door, the two now standing inside.  Ollie and Sirius sat right across from the bordered window, and the dusty sunlight cast its nulling effects on everyone in the room—Ollie included—except for Sirius, who somehow shimmered golden under its muddied hue.  The flowers in his hair were only assisting in making Sirius look like a dream vision, the cloudlike pastels contrasting with the even blackness of his braided hair and Remus would have dropped the Butterbeer cup if it weren’t for the fact James was holding it for him.  Because he was on a date, as far as everyone else was concerned, with someone who didn’t shine in dusty sunlight, just faded into it.  

Remus wished he could fade into it—fade into anything, really— when, in the next moment, Sirius looked up at him, accidentally glittering and wearing a smile so radiant it had to be meant for Ollie, and it was all too much to think about in his dorm room that morning, book against his chest and heart scorching underneath it.  But to see it?  To see it was like forgetting to breathe and not wanting to remember how.  

So of course his whisper in James’ ear was ragged.  “They’re here.  We need to go.”  James didn’t even look back, only nodding before sweetly requesting Pandora to switch the Butterbeers into to-go cups.  She did, and Remus knew it was fast because it felt so painstakingly slow, that minute and a half—at most—of seeing Sirius with someone else, skin and bones and braids and all.

He stumbled out into the streets of Hogsmeade, uneven cobblestone harsh against the thin rubber of his shoes.  His head was spinning or maybe he was.  From somewhere near him James kept asking if he was alright out of kindness, reassuring him everything would be fine out of dedication to his role.  All Remus knew for certain was his heart felt like it was slowly being torn apart, miniscule milligram by miniscule milligram, and that he was leaning against a wall outside when a voice, sharper and higher-pitched than James’, called to him from the door he had just walked out of.

“I’m here,” Remus said, detaching his back from the wall miraculously, considering he felt as though he had spent hours whipped around inside of a tornado.  And in that simple action, Steph came into view, wearing a black apron and her hair in a bun.  

James greeted her first.  The apparent tension in her smile foreshadowed her request: “James, is it alright if I steal Remus for a moment?”  It was unusually stern for Steph’s sunshine demeanor and Remus wanted to run for his life.  

Noticing Remus’ wide eyes of fear, James’ agreement was muttered in reluctant helplessness of leaving.  Pointing in no direction in particular, he mumbled, “I’ll just, uh, be off then,” before mouthing an apology to Remus and walking away with brisk, stumbling steps.

With just as little eloquence and an even more uncertain posture— wandering eyes and a hand behind his neck, rubbing the nape of it— Remus asked, “Do we have to talk about this here?  Now?”

Steph’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion, but were softened by a small smile.  “I’m not going to, like, scream at you for what you did in there.  I was just wondering if I did something wrong.”

Now it was Remus whose face was scrunched in a quizzical glance, but no smile was there to soften it.  “What do you mean?”

She chuckled while stating, “You’re ignoring me, Remus.  Just in there”—she pointed to the Three Broomsticks’ door which, luckily for Remus, was not opening to expose Ollie or Sirius— “You saw me working the bar, whispered to James and left.  Plus, you haven’t talked to me since we danced, even though I’ve waved at you in the halls.  So what’s up?”

Besides himself, Remus laughed, hating the way it mocked Steph’s concern but it was too funny, the fact that he didn’t even need to lie for his emotions to be misinterpreted.  “I’m not ignoring you, Steph,” he assured.  She crossed her arms in wordless reluctance to believe him, causing Remus to frown.  “Okay, maybe I haven’t been great at talking to you, but it wasn’t intentional.  I’m sorry.”

“So you’re not mad at me or anything?” Steph inquired.  Remus winced at the flicker of fear that sparked in her eyes before waning quickly.  It send an invisible punch to his stomach, the thought of hurting her, even in the most miniscule of ways.

“‘Course not,” Remus smiled, forgetting about Sirius and Ollie and James and the mess he had made for a moment and truly grinning, widely enough that his mouth swallowed the rest of his face up.  But it was only a momentary retreat:

“Well, then, what was all that about?” Steph asked, gesturing at the door again, and suddenly everything flooded back into Remus’ mind.  She leaned her upper body closer into Remus, with a light tone of laughter on her lips, teasing him, saying, “You looked like you saw a ghost.”

“You obviously haven’t seen me talking to Nearly Headless Nick, bored out of my mind,” Remus joked, partly because it was true, but mostly to try and divert the conversation.  But Steph’s eyes were unblinking, body in a patient stasis,waiting for Remus to tell the truth.  

So he did.

“It was Sirius, actually,” he breathed, unsure posture back in its full throttle.  Steph’s lips pursed.  “I just, I couldn’t see him on his date.  I like him too much.  It was too painful.”

He said it almost as quietly as the silence that followed.  Remus looked at Steph, eyes full of uncertainty, but hearing the whistles of breezes and steps of nearby students.  It made his ears ring and his heart pound and Steph was still standing, just standing, still and sure, waiting.

So Remus blew out a breath.  “Are you going to say something?”  The words seethed through his teeth.

“Well,” she began, saying it carefully with her entire mouth wrapping around each letter, “if it’s for the same reason you left me after noticing he wasn’t alone at the party, the same reason you were stiff as a board when we were dancing, I don’t have much to say to you.  I was just hoping you were really shy or something, or you heard some outrageous lie about me and wanted to stay away from me in a way that wouldn’t be too obvious.”  

“Why would you want that?” Remus asked, tilting his head.

And Steph laughed again— she was always laughing— but this one was throatier, more genuine.  “You know, for being at the top of our class, you can be an idiot sometimes.”  Remus almost interrupted Steph to say, in that dark, self-loathing version of his voice, just how true that was, but was too shocked at Steph’s next words to form his own.

“I was hoping those things because I have a really massive crush on you.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open.  “What?” he yelled.  It was childishly loud and made Steph laugh while nodding in reassurance.  But Remus only truly believed her words due to the bright smile of honesty— the same kind of smile he wore after coming out to Sirius— that shone across her face, causing him to blush and scoff a bit.

“What?” Steph repeated, but this one was more defensive, as if Remus’ flustered face offended her in some way.

“It’s nothing,” Remus chuckled.  “Just… I never knew anyone would ever get a crush on me.  It’s never happened before.”

“You have to be wrong,” Steph said, mouth staying hung wide after her sentence was spoken.  Remus only shook his head in response.  “Well,” she continued, taking a deep breath, “I’m honored to be the first you know of.  Even if you can’t like me back for… uh…”

Remus looked at her slyly.  “For obvious reasons?”  The laughter it summoned was somewhat full and bright, allowing Remus to relax his shoulder blades he hadn’t even noticed he had been tensing before.

“Yeah,” she replied.  It was followed by a deep breath which was followed by a wordless pause as light spring wind gusted in the space between them, a distance which felt more definitive than ever.  It felt odd; Remus was uncomfortable standing so far away from her, as if on display, but didn’t dare cross into her space after she poured her heart out to no gain.  Yet, she continued to be incredibly sweet, incredibly Steph: “I hope everything works out for you, Remus,” she said, breaking the silence, with too much tenderness for it to be for show.

The initial snark and sarcasm was hard to fight back, the urge to say something like, “I’ll need a lot more than luck,�� but with extreme focus Remus countered it, Steph's selflessness too admirable for Remus to make a joke out of.  So with a small smile he thanked her, his voice quiet under the interruption of a sudden scream from somewhere behind him.  In a confused rush he turned around.  

It was James, who was holding two bags of Honeydukes sweets in one hand and the other covering his eyes.  “Sorry!  Sorry!” he yelled.  “I  didn’t mean to intrude.  I just thought by now you’d be done.”

Remus was busy rolling his eyes and smirking as Steph assured, “You’re fine, James.  We are done.”  Then, she turned her body to squarely face Remus once more, demanding his attention.  “It was great talking to you,” she said with the kind of sweetness only sincerity possesses.  Remus barely had time to agree before she left with just as much quiet grace with which she emerged from the doors.

When Remus turned back to look at James, he was met yet again with a sheepish look, prompting Remus to clutch James’ shoulder with his hand in a reassuring manner and smiling with a similar intent.  The kind of smile Steph always gave, warm and soft and coaxing.  He tried to speak in a similar tone too, light and fluttery yet strong, while promising, “It’s alright, mate.”

Yet James stayed relentlessly uneasy while a large gulp shot down his throat.  “It’s not that…” he trailed off, letting his free hand point over to the Three Broomsticks’ window and finish his thought for his mouth.  With concern and breathlessness, he narrated what was happening, even though he knew Remus could tell himself: Ollie was pushing his chair out, looking as though he was ready to leave.

The hand that was on James’ shoulder slipped down to his fingers—strong and muscular from years of Quidditch—and pulled him from close proximity to the Three Broomsticks with unceremonious scuttling.  “Where are we going?” James panted as Remus pulled him through Hogsmeade embarrassingly fast, the pain his heart was rotting from the only thing making him not care about the turning of heads as they sprinted wildly.

Even though he was losing breath, Remus was still able to respond with a harsh edge.  “Where do you think?” he spat, eyes narrowed as he glanced back at James, continuing to lead them closer and closer to Black Lake.  And he never stopped leading or running or holding, even though his lungs were dry and burning and his heartbeat rung in his earlobes, even though his feet were aching and his face hot, until they were at the shore and could see the blue water only a few metres away.  Only once they were there did Remus drop James’ hand, fisting his own by his sides and shouting out a scream loud enough to produce ripples across the lake’s previously smooth surface and send birds flying out of nearby trees.  

James was panting behind Remus, his hands on his knees and body crouched over, did not react to the yell fearfully.  “What… the… Hell… is… wrong… with… you?” he asked.  “Are you trying to kill me or something?

“I’m a fucking Gryffindor and I can’t even tell Sirius how I feel,” he stated aggressively, with arms thrashing wildly, against his body’s will, which begged to rest, breath, release.  “I know the worst that will happen isn’t the end of the world.  Everyone keeps looking at me like I am over exaggerating, which I probably am.  But I just know if I say something and he rejects me—which is horrible but survivable—I’ll still never get my best friend back.  And I wish I could just get over this doubt and trust him as much as everyone else who knows about my feelings says I should.  But I’m terrified and I hate it.”

“What did Steph say to you?” James asked with the kind of distaste filled with blame.

Remus finally breathed.  It wasn’t enough by any means—his hands were shaking—but he still managed a mediocre exhale before admitting, “Steph told me she had a crush on me.”  He stared at James, waiting for some sign of shock, but none appeared.  “What?  Are you seriously not surprised?”

James chuckled and Remus wanted to smack him for laughing here, now, as he was in obvious distress.  “Mate, you’re kidding, right?”  Remus expected his blank expression answered for him, as James continued, “She was flirting with you at the party with all the teasing.  She even found an excuse for physical contact.  And I could see it when I was introducing you two in the stands.  She is literally always the most put together person, warm but also very closed in, but you were making her blush like mad.”

Remus’ eyebrows scrunched up.  “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Wasn’t my place,” James replied with a light shrug.  “Besides, that was just my gut instinct.  I didn’t want to come to you without solid evidence since people’s feelings shouldn’t be assumed.”

Remus desperately wanted to argue but could feel the anger dying at the bottom of his throat as James looked at him sorrowfully yet unapologetically.  His heart rate was slowing, he could feel it poundings getting steadier and further apart, but it still spluttered in nervousness as he said, “I just have so much going on in my head right now I want to explode.”

As if James was expecting that—which he couldn’t have been, since Remus rarely spoke honestly about his feelings—he smiled warmly at Remus, outstretching the bag of candies to him.  Remus grabbed it, looking inside to find all of his favorites: dark chocolate fudge, truffles in delicate wrappers, special chocolate bars that weren’t even on display and Remus knew from experience had to be inquired about to find and purchase.  He glanced back up at James, whose grin had only grown.  “I thought that talk might go poorly, so I took the liberty of getting you something from Honeydukes,” he explained.  Remus kept looking up and down and up and down between James and the bag of sweets, getting ready to mention how James didn’t only get him something but all of his favorites, but James continued.  “You know you can still talk to me, right?  About all of those things going on in your head.”

Remus nodded with disinterest as he sat down, the action quickly mirrored by a still purse-lipped, concerned James.  His hands fiddled with the wrapped truffles, as if trying to decide which to eat first, though he knew he would not consume any.  Not yet, at least, with a throat as dry and closed up as his.  Still, chokes of words were able to leave his throat.  “Sometimes I feel like telling Sirius about my feelings, but then I remember who he is and who I am.”

“What do you mean?” James inquired softly.  Remus could feel James’ eyes on him, warm and probably wide, but wouldn’t dare to look back.

So Remus’ eyes focused on the gentle ripples of Black Lake as he said, “There’s just no way I can ever deserve him.  No way I will ever be good enough.  Friendship being ruined and awkwardness put aside.”

When the truth was out, he finally turned to James, whose grin was twitching as if he was trying to hold it back.  “You are literally one of the best people I’ve ever known,” James said. “And yeah, I guess Sirius has this allure”—he outstretched his hands and wiggled his fingertips to try and physically express the mentioned radiance— “and all, but Remus, you’re much more introspective and aware and you’ve got this incredible wit and whole kind of charm of your own.”

Remus arched his brow.  “You think I’m charming?”

“Are you kidding?” James scoffed.  “You had Binns wrapped around your finger in class the other day.  Maybe Sirius is more flirtatiously charming, but you’re definitely still charming.”  

Remus didn’t mean to blush, but felt his cheeks heating up as he said, “Wow, an admission that someone has a crush on me and that someone thinks I’m charming on the same day.”

“And will the closeness of these two events make you actually believe you are as amazing as everyone else thinks?” James asked, looking at Remus expectantly.

Remus shrugged before pulling out a chocolate bar.  “I don’t know.  I just wish I could go up to him and be like,”—Remus held up the bar in front of his face with both hands, looking at it with intense gravity— “Sirius Black, I think about making out with you so much it pains my chest.  Will you please be my boyfriend?  But then I look at him and all of that confidence just disintegrates.”  To emphasize his point, Remus let the bar to slip out of his loosened grip, landing silently on the plush grass.

“I know what you mean,” James said.  “I think of all of these great lines to tell Evans, like when falling asleep or bored in class, but when it actually comes to speaking to her, I’m a mess.”  When Remus looked at James, his friend’s neck was bent towards the grass between his parted legs, chuckling while resting a hand against the back of his neck: a position Remus knew and lived in more than anyone else.  And to see James in that state brought a shock up Remus’ spine.

“You actually get nervous?” he asked, trying to make it curious as opposed to mocking, but he wasn’t sure which it was received as while James nodded silently in response.  “I guess I always thought it was you being you, I guess.  All energetic.  I never knew you get nervous talking to Lily.”

“God yes.  It’s terrifying.  Regardless of how long I’ve known her, she just takes my breath away every time, you know?”

“James?” Remus asked, hoping it would pull James’ eyes up towards him and it did, with a gentle turn of his face that seemed like he was a small animal scared out of a hiding spot, not the grand stag he usually acted as.  Something warm made its way through Remus’ chest at seeing James so uncharacteristically unsure and he smiled to try and give some of the brightness back to his best friend.  “James, I really think fake dating you has been the best part of our friendship.  It’s nice to talk to you like this.  To get to know you in a new way.”

Remus didn’t miss the small smile and tinge of pink that grew on James’ face before he turned back to looking at the ground beneath him, where his hands rested against the grass.  “Well that’s soft,” he muttered, grinning so brightly it was hard for Remus to believe he was attempting to hide it.  In the passing moments of silence, Remus picked up the chocolate bar from the grass and began unwrapping it, setting the paper covering in the Honeydukes bag before ripping into the foil and tearing off a square for James.

He held it out for a couple seconds too long after offering it to a James that was reluctant to turn around, still embarrassed.  “Come on, take it.  It’s my thank you for today and getting me chocolate.”

When James finally turned, his expression was less shy and sweet and more teasing and playful.  “Are you really going to let me eat your chocolate, Moony?”

As Remus struggled to find words, James just laughed, making Remus feel even more stupid for still having his arm outstretched, blazing sun melting the chocolate into the palm of his hand.  “I… I am able to share.  And you deserve it.”

“I’m good.  Don’t worry about it.”  

So Remus proceeded to eat all of the chocolate James had bought him all by himself before the beginnings of a setting sun urged them back into the Common Room.  Remus knew from the increasingly loud sounds of shoes against wooden flooring and chatter from students as he and James approached the Fat Lady that they would be some of the first to arrive back, so was not necessarily surprised when he and a laughing James opened the door to find Sirius and Lily already inside.  But what slacked his jaw and narrowed his brows and sent a shockwave through his skin so strong he almost dropped the candy bag was seeing Sirius, already arrived, slumped over himself in pain with Lily’s arm wrapped around the top of his hunched back.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, approaching Sirius with careful and quick steps, not caring about the obvious concern seeping out of his voice.  He sat down besides Sirius, who turned towards him so automatically it had to be born out of instinct.  When he leaned into Remus’ chest, there was no spluttering heartbeat to be exposed; Remus was quick to forget about being in love with Sirius in these kinds of situations, quick to not have a physical reaction of Sirius being so close, because his eyes were swollen red and his voice was shaky and broken as he said what was on his mind.

“Ollie and I ended things.”  It was a quiet whisper into Remus’ shirt and having his breath millimeters away from Remus’ skin should have sent it tingling but he was only fazed by the sadness of it, not the proximity of the breath.

Remus could hear James’ footsteps creak along the wooden floor as he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sirius scoffed harshly.  “God no,” he seethed, and it was as demanding as it was disheartening.  “I just want to stop feeling sad about… just, I need a distraction.”

The smirk on James’ face was audible as he said, “Well I know just the thing.”  And as Sirius and Lily stood up with that ominous prompting, Remus realized just how much living together for five years put people on the same page as he was getting up, too, and following James up the dormitory staircase and putting a record on his player and blasting it on full volume and turning to watch James standing on the bed, singing with a hairbrush as a microphone.

“Lady and gentlemen,” he said as the opening instruments began their ascent into full volume, layers of beats adding in and in and in.  “I’d like to welcome you into the Marauder dorm room and into the best night of your lives.  I’m not typically one for Muggle music but this one is going to be a classic so”—he took a deep breath, closing his eyes dramatically, and Remus glanced at Sirius’ widening smile with relief as James began singing in a high-pitched voice perfectly in tune with the music—“Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk.  Music loud and women warm I’ve been kicked around since I was born.”  James hopped off the bed then, approaching Sirius and tossing away the hairbrush to grab his hands.  Their dancing only lasted a few moments before James parted again, twirling around Remus with waving arm movements.  But Remus kept his eyes on Sirius, who was now laughing while Lily attempted several dance moves, all of which looked awkward on her body.

“Stop laughing!” she protested, but her own chuckles proved there was no anger.  The song shifted, kept changing for however long they danced, before the softness of the instrumental song paired with their tired bodies gave way for something else.

James broke off from where he stood next to Remus, looking at Lily squarely and softly.  “May I please have this dance?” he asked, almost as if mocking himself, and if Remus hadn’t just been at Black Lake and seen his neck rounded and heard his nervous chuckling, he might not have picked up on how the hand not outstretched to Lily was quivering relentlessly.  She laughed before agreeing, and James swept her off.  It was only a few feet away but when it was Sirius he was next to, no matter how far away Remus truly was to the next closest person in the room, to him it felt like galaxies

He outstretched his hand to Sirius.  There were no words like James had said; lacked the bravery to speak, or truly, the bravery to attempt and have his words come out as mumbled, broken sentences.  So he asked with his eyes instead, serious and pleading, making sure his warm smile counterbalanced the fact that he wanted this to mean something, to be real.  Because when Sirius took Remus’ hand, suddenly James and Lily weren’t only galaxies away: they ceased to exist entirely.  Because when Remus stepped in, making their bodies press into something that resembled a hug, Remus found himself wishing the way he held Sirius could be something obviously romantic, instead of a swaying version of a friendly embrace.  Because when Sirius put his cheek against Remus’ chest, unsteady from their closeness, every inch of Remus’ skin felt alive, like it wasn’t part of him but its own separate being made out of electricity and tidal waves in the most gorgeously destructive way.  Dancing with Sirius was an experience, a near-death one, perhaps, by the way Remus could barely breathe, and he realized that this is what he was missing with Steph, feeling so much good it was becoming difficult to exist.

Yet he found the strength to speak, as it sprouted from worry rather than adornment.  “You’re going to be alright,” Remus said, voice steadier than expected.

Sirius shook his head, hair hitting Remus’ jumper, flowers almost all fallen off.  “I’m never going to end up with the person I love.”

Remus’ breath caught in his throat.  “There will be others.  I promise.”  There was so much left to say, so many words ready his mouth was left open after he finished talking and he had to close it consciously in order to not let anything spill out, drowning them in an ocean of transformative truths.

“Not him,” Sirius seethed defiantly, and Remus wanted to cry because his heart ached to be that person Sirius craved.

“I know what you mean,” Remus replied.  Sirius’ head peeked up slightly, looking over at a dancing Lily and James, reminding Remus they were not galaxies away but right here, in this messed up universe in which he was responsible for the wreckages.

Sirius placed his head back into Remus chest before asking, “Do you ever consider moving on?”

“No.”  It was so automatic, so fast, Remus didn’t know if Sirius had heard.  So he repeated himself: “No.  I love him far too much.  I don’t even think I could if I tried.”

“I know,” Sirius said, softly, filled with sleep, and within minutes Remus found himself tucking Sirius in after charming the record player to a halt, wondering if Sirius understood everything so well, if Steph could tell the truth, if everyone was right that he was over exaggerating, maybe he could open up to Sirius.  Maybe he could just say James was a lie, that every other crush or feeling towards anyone else was strictly fantastical.  That he was hopelessly, stupidly, irretrievably in love with Sirius and had been for years.  Will be forever.

With his eyes closed and body curled under his bedsheets, Remus decided that Sunday was a lovely day for telling the truth before falling into the most restful sleep of his life.

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KEEP READING: Part Eight: “Everything Will Be Okay”

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Taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @siriuslyimmoony @astertist @who-cares-unknown @neewtmas @sjriusblck @boring-viola @moonlitdiggory @gryffndor @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @finnofamerica @the-apple-princess  @cinnamonrollswithmoony @sarah-bearah @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting

[aphrosalexein]

The Jazz Age Whispers

Writing is like weaving, he thought. You begin from a key word, then elaborate. But it all revolves, gravitates towards that encoded unit. Loki got his pen up and quickly scribbled something in the corner of his journal paper.

This has been the daily mental exercise in the last few weeks: he got up early in the morning and wrote down the first idea that came to mind. It was meant as an effort to know himself better by capturing the most unconscious, perhaps useless (but sometimes subtle and shrouded) of thoughts. An effort to attain clarity.

He found this technique while travelling on Midgard. On Realm Eternal literature was much more classic, it both form and meaning. Writers were at the same time philosophers, sorcerers, astronomers, playwrights, historians. Most books were histories of Asgard, papers of magic, epics and works of adventure, or philosophical in manner. Well, there was also an entire series "Heimdallr's considerations on the universe: a detailed description of Niflheim, Muspelheim, Asgard, Midgard, Jotunheim, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Svartalfheim, Helheim", which were 9 tomes describing all stars, planets, galaxies, realms. Other works on astronomy were minor. One separate category were fairytales, yet those fit mostly children.

Thus, sciences in Asgard have not yet separated, as on Earth. 

During one of his visits, he entered a Parisian cafè. What attracted him inside was the music he heard; humans call it "jazz". The sinous notes pervaded through the thin glass windows, travelled his hearing channel and captivated him immediately. It was early evening and the diffuse light from this French local seemed like a true invitation to join in; it promised a warm atmosphere and significant knowledge on Midgardian culture.

He opened the door and was met with a noteworthy sight: there was a round table in the middle, surrounded by young earthlings. They seemed in some kind of debate; it was held in a friendly manner. Other people minded their own, drinking and laughing with peers. Everything was covered in a sheer layer of smoke and so the smell of cigarettes was a dominant flavour.

Their clothes complemented the overall ambiance: wood-panelled room walls, small, beige chandeliers, dark green Art Deco chairs (he learnt the precise name afterwards), black tables. Men and women alike were dressed in dark shades, adopting an elegant flair. The females had a peculiar, never seen before, style of garment; he later knew that it was essential to their look: the "flapper" dress. 

It was almost dreamlike. However, as opposed to illusions, where shadows seem like real characters and instead you fill in their real role, he was met with strange eyes. Nonetheless, nobody really minded him.

Thus, he was covered with a veil of anonimity, which was truly enjoyable. This way, it was much easier to learn unobserved. On the other side, a part of him wanted some attention.

He got to the bar and sat on a stool. The bartender said in a questioning manner:

"Haven't seen you before in here.. What will it be for you?"

"Just a straight whiskey." The youth put a few coins on the table.

"Here it comes." 

He got his glass, took a quick sip and moved towards that group. He looked again at the group sitting around the round table and overheard snippets of conversation. Following their tone, words, mannerisms, even banter, he saw how close they were, even if, in his eyes, they seemed to have known each other for no more than a day. Almost strangers, but youth united them so naturally. Their affinity shone through like a golden aura. He quickly got jealous, comparing them to his stiff almost-friends. Yet, as always, he buried deep this sentiment, thinking he should anyways enjoy himself, while it lasts. 

He got closer and distinguished more clearly their matter, only now noticing two were playing a game of cards.

"Renè, accept and move on. You lost, c'est fini. Let's start again, but don't think you'll beat me yet. After all, I taught you the game just two hours ago." 

A short-haired, blonde woman said these words, with a strange accent. She chuckled and seemed somewhat prideful, though on merit: apparently she was a good card player and also a good game teacher. She was easily the most traditionally beautiful woman at the table. Diametrically opposite, sat Renè, who looked like a classic dandy, full of poise and manners, but at her right sat one of her friends, supposedly. The other woman was engaged in a conversation with a younger man. They talked about something which she cared very much about; one could see it in the glint of her eyes. Her interest made her features look lively and captured the attention of her partner. Finally, directly in front of him were two more men and one woman, who, based on the previously heard conversation, were called Georges, Bernard and Emilie. The first two were brothers, but they didn't look alike. Emilie seemed the youngest; she was also somewhat quiet and listened to the brothers' talking. 

He wanted to get in the group, but he was too reserved to interrupt. However, the second woman, near the blonde, saw his hesitation and invited him in with her gaze. "How observant.." he thought.

And she didn't even look at him, until then.

"Noticed you since you entered in <Les Lilas>... you don't seem like the usual. But don't be shy, this place is for everyone". 

The woman greeted him, breaking the ice. She was confident, but in a more mature way than her friends. The youthful taste for coquettery was replaced by a sort of tolerance and accommodating friendliness.

"Feel free to sit here. I am Mathilde, by the way, and this is my husband, Henri." 

Henri nod his head as a salute. 

"My dear friend here is Alice and the new Bridge player is Renè." Alice smiled and Renè greeted politely. Yet they all seemed to be used to Mathilde being the mediator between old and new acquaintances.

"Finally, these are the Verdi brothers, Bernard and Georges; near them is Emilie; they are all our new friends". 

Mathilde waited now to present himself.

In a strained voice, he said: "Nice to meet you all, and thank you Mathilde, if I may, for this easy introduction. Yes, I am not familiar to this place, so one could say this is my holiday. My name is.. "

The night went by in a quick pace. He talked to all of them, although most to Mathilde, as she made him feel most comfortable. This wasn't very long ago, it must have been about 90 years, yet their introduction remains crystal clear in his mind. (However, it is the only, and the last thing he remembers this accurately. The others have long begun to change shapes and meanings. Forgetfullness tastes bitter.)

Although, different memories flow by, some half forgotten, some improved and romanticised by the crafty side of his brain (who doesn't accept that even he can't remember everything). Loki realised that these six people, or mortals (as he referred to them later), were his only friends in his millenium of existence. Disastrous. Yet, he began to reminiscence their times spent together, which helped him understand better than anyone, he thinks, humanity's internal and external crisis of the 20th century. They also helped him understand himself, a great feat, really. So, his writing now is also the result of their encounter. 

Once, Mathilde told him: "Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself. You know, you could become a great writer, if only you would dive in and gain clarity."

He responded, thinking of Asgardian epics and legends: "And what? Create another Odysseus? I'm afraid nobody would be interested. These stories are no longer fit for the present society; nobody ever goes to an adventure nowadays to discover himself. You just live in the same place, doing the same things. History moves on, quickly, in a rush (just look at newspapers) and you delude yourself you'll do something new tomorrow. What a pity."

"You're right, but I never said to write about manly men and fair ladies.

Exactly the absence of adventure, as you understand it, is the greatest adventure of our lives. Our journies nowadays are on the inside, concealed, and in your soul there's as much action as in the external lives, conquests and adventures of any classic hero. Yes, outside noise covers it, you said history, but that doesn't undermine the reality. In the past, it was possible to become a valiant warrior, as the background did not change: same old kingdoms, empires, nobility and vassals. Now it is vastly different: social ranks are no longer for life and moreover, the outside rate of change and the oversaturation of (unimportant) information outshine our private lives.

You just need to find a way to express this. Anyways, I'll try to help you. Try to write down everything that comes to mind, without judgement or censorship. Even better, do this as soon as you wake up or in a moment you're most relaxed. I'm sure..."

Her advice continued and he was grateful for it. Maybe not in that moment, but now he appreciates the value.

Where was he before this sentimental intermission? Oh, mornings gave the prince a great opportunity to enjoy and relish in the best time of the day. Nothing surpasses the crystal stillnes of silence before sunrise, even some moments afterwards. It is not an empty quietness ("like in the Void", he thinks with a shudder), but rather the "fullest" one; in an ambigous sense of this word. "Fullness"... when all particles of nature stand unbearably close to each other, affecting all neighbours with their inherent agitation. But the space is so close, that they can't neither reject nor accept eachother totally. They seem as if in a frozen state, separated by equal distances, yet the truth stands on the opposite side. It is the purest form of movement. Each particle identifies with all others, and through it's manipulation, it is able to influence all others. ("What an illuminating thought! Then so is the essence of his seidr, is it not? This particular state of matter, this total unity.")

Just the right moment; it all seems cohesive, no disruptances in flows of energy, everything moves in sync. The puzzle is complete: one can see and identify each piece individually, but also perceive the whole in it's "fullness". "What a strange word"... he wrote it down with beautiful and elegant penmanship on his paper, determining it as the final result of early meditation hours. 

Suddenly, calmness washed over him. He lost his peak of focus and felt all muscles in his body lose their imposed rigidity, returning to natural tension. This is what he meant through clarity. A direct sense of perception. He looked inside, finally.

[jeantparks]

In the Bahamas! – Exumas to Eleuthera – Apr 2, 2017

Mar 27th – It was a warm sunny day with moderate winds.  The winds finally dropped enough to allow us to travel today thus we decided to turn around and return to Cambridge Cay in the Exumas which was a 15 mile run with 4 other Looper boats.  Originally we were going to top up our fuel in Staniel Cay, however the fuel barge was unloading fuel at the dock and there was a lineup of boats waiting to take on fuel thus we decided to wait until we cross to Eleuthera, which is also in the Bahamas.  Since it was a bit windy we decided to head over to the beach for some beach time as well as to get some exercise by walking across the island on the Honeymoon trail to the beach on the other side.  As the sun was starting to drop we headed back to the boats for dinner.  My sunset conch horn set off a chain of boat horns blowing at sunset.  We should have light winds tomorrow thus it will most likely be a snorkeling and drift diving day.

Mar 28th – It was a warm sunny day.  The amazing thing about the Bahamas is that the temperature seems to be the same every day with no humidity and no bugs.  During the day it’s warm enough to go swimming but not too hot to make you sweat like Florida.  The bad thing about the Bahamas is that the winds seem to be constant and there are very few days with low winds.  We went by dingy to the beach and walked across to Bell rock and had a magnificent view of the ocean as well as the anchorage … it was stunning!  When we walked back 3 of the dingys were stranded on the beach since it was low tide and we had to drag each dingy a few hundred feet to make it to water that was deep enough for them to float.  After our walk we went to a nearby reef to snorkel and we were about to give it up because big rollers were coming into the reef.  We went anyway and I was amazed at how little the waves affected us while we snorkelled.  We saw some amazing coral as well as all kinds of fish.  Then we went by dingy to a beach and walked around checking out the shells, sand dollars, etc … however you can’t collect any of these since we are in the Land and Sea park.  Maria went kayaking with Brian from Valentine and did really well.  Three of the Loopers – Valentine, Relax Now and Regalitta are leaving us tomorrow since they have commitments that they need to meet thus they’ll be crossing to Eleuthera.  We plan to head farther north tomorrow with Hard Dock Café and spend a bit more time in the Exumas before we leave.  Gerald and Barb from Hard Dock Café invited all of us to their boat for cocktails to say goodbye to the parting boats.  We listened to some great tunes, danced a little and just enjoyed everyone’s company and wished everyone safe travels before we left.

Mar 29th – It was a hot sunny day with low winds.  We watched the 3 boats leave us for Eleuthera this morning and said our goodbyes.  We pulled up the anchor from Cambridge Cay and travelled 15 miles north to Warderick Wells Cay which houses the headquarters of the Exuma Land and Sea Park.  On our way we passed Johnny Depp’s island but there was no sign of a rum drinking Pirate!  The anchorage and surrounding area is stunning thus we plan to stay a couple nights to take it all in.  We spent the day with Gerald and Barb (Hard Dock Café) by first taking the dingy to the park dock then we walked to Boo Boo hill and left a shell on the hill with Aqua-Fennatic on it then walked a bit farther to check out some blow holes.  Afterwards we snorkeled and Maria found the biggest lobster I’ve ever seen …. It could have fed 2 people … but you can’t fish in the Land and Sea park.  Gerald found a shark and Maria backed up a bit … she didn’t want to get too close.  Maria got into the dingy after snorkeling on her own … Exxxcellent!  Then the two dingys went for a cruise around Warderick Wells Cay, running through Exuma Sound, which finally got calm enough due to the low winds … An amazing dingy ride with amazingly clear water!  After dinner we had a game of Euchre … the guys won the first game, then the girls and finally the girls won the tie breaker … it was a very close game … we’ll have to have a rematch!

Mar 30th – It was a warm sunny day with moderate winds.  We are still at our Warderick Wells Cay mooring today.  We went for a dingy ride with Hard Dock Café to the dingy dock and walked along a trail to Barefoot beach and continued deeper into their trail system over a bridge which led to a watery rocky path that a few of us crossed, however Maria didn’t want to take a chance since the rocks were not stable thus we turned around.  We sat on the deck of the park headquarters for a bit since the view is amazing and we had a cool breeze to cool us down.  Later we went snorkeling however Maria decided to relax on the boat since she said it was too windy.  I saw lots of fish, as usual, and I saw a very large shark swim right by me … it surprised me and I kept my eye on it to ensure it wasn’t going to turn into something that would spark another JAWS movie!  When I told Maria this she was extremely happy she stayed behind.  As I was getting the BBQ ready for dinner I noticed that the bilge pump under the cockpit wasn’t working … another surprise job that I need to address tomorrow. 

Mar 31st – It was a warm sunny day with moderate winds.  We left our Warderick Wells Cay mooring today and travelled 23 miles north to Shroud Cay.  The winds were 18 mph from the SE which made the seas lumpy.  Things got better after we turned which resulted in following seas.  I checked the bilge pump issue and for some reason there was no power at the pump.  I tried a few things and then decided to temporarily wire the bilge pump to the generator battery which was close by.  I turned off the switch at the panel for now and I’ll look for the root cause when we arrive back in the US since I’ll need to trace wiring and verify power at the 12V panel.  We went for a dingy ride with Hard Dock Café down a mangrove river to the beach on the other side and I did some body surfing as the tide was dropping.  On the way by a rock someone passed me a glass of wine … how nice!  Wine while body surfing … a unique combination for sure.  We ended the day with a Euchre game, guys against the girls, and the guys won!  Now both the girls and guys have won 1 thus we need a tie breaker. 

Apr 1st – It was a hot sunny day and the winds diminished as the day progressed.  We stayed in our Shroud Cay anchorage with Hard Dock Café and packed a lunch then headed by dingy to the beach at the end of a mangrove river.  When the tide goes out the current gets very strong from the river to the ocean.  We all went body surfing in the strong current multiple times, including Maria!  If you stayed on the right side you would be caught in a current that would take you around in large circles.  We met some great people that were travelling on a mega yacht called 11.11 which were extremely nice people and they had one of their crew members from South Africa deliver us a round of ice cold Bahamian beers … what a nice gesture!  The weatherman is forecasting light winds tomorrow thus we plan to cross from the Exumas to Eleuthera. 

Apr 2nd – It was a hot hot hot and sunny day with no wind!  I can’t believe it … it was the first day with no wind in the Bahamas!  We got up early to pull up anchor from our Shroud Cay anchorage and travelled 53 miles to an anchorage in Rock Sound Harbour in Eleuthera Bahamas.  On the way we stopped at Cape Eleuthera marina to get diesel, water and dingy gas.  The water was so calm that it looked like you were looking through a window into the water.  What a great crossing!  After we anchored we went to the dingy dock to check out the town … it was HOT and everything was closed since it’s Sunday.  We’ll check things out again tomorrow.  Thus we returned back to the boat to catch up on internet related things including our blog.  Finally … good internet!

The water is 78 degrees F at the Shroud Cay beach

The bones of a whale at Warderwick Wells Cay

Warderwick Wells Cay

Boo Boo Hill … We left an Aqua-Fennatic shell behind

Blow holes at the back of Warderwick Wells Cay

Aqua-Fennatic with Hard Dock Cafe

You never get tired of looking at the scenery here!

View at the end of the mangrove river of Shroud Cay

Don’t we make a cute couple

The sand is so lovely between your toes!

Body surfing as the tide drops

Heading from the Exumas to Eleuthera … aka Island hopping

Ocean Hole in Eleuthera … it’s a big pond over 600 feet deep

A few fish hanging out in Ocean Hole

Read More Here ….

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