#none of your designs were embarrassing mack >>

[theresnourieandme]

Iron Maiden.

TJ never thought the devil wouldn't dress Prada. Especially after being forced by Amber to see that movie. Yet neither Andi Mack, Buffy Driscoll, nor Cyrus Goodman wore designer clothes, excluding the Mint Chip’s ones. All the boys and girls at the school would never dare be on their way as they headed to the locker rooms, or in the classroom, but not because they were afraid, rather because they were revered as gods. Instead, TJ thought only that they were rude and too touchy to admit the truth – that they, after all, were like all other teenagers, selfish and in need of attention. That's why TJ had no problem standing in front of them as they walked, and he had no problem getting in right before one of them in class, because none of those three made his knees tremble.

Marty, on the other hand, behaved like everyone else in their year, even though he only had eyes for Driscoll, what he called ‘his soul mate’. He had a crush on her since he met her at the first party at Andi Mack's house, and from there he hadn't taken her out of his head.

Jonah always tried to be nice to them, even though he was with everyone. TJ, however, had noticed, observing him when the Good Hair Crew – this is how Buffy, Andi, and Cyrus called themselves – passed by them, that the friend followed with the gaze always and only Andi. TJ knew full well that Jonah didn't have a chance, because Andi and Amber had been dating for a while, but he didn’t want to shut the little dreamer’s wings.

It was a Tuesday in the cafeteria that TJ realized he had done it all wrong. He was quietly seated at a table with his two best friends when Marty saw in the distance the three gods approaching. Every time they walked with their heads held high, time seemed to slow down and it was as if everything was going in slow motion. Marty fidgeted on the bench as he warned TJ and Jonah of the three's impending arrival at their table.

When TJ heard a fake cough right behind him, he turned annoyed. The Good Hair Crew stood behind him and watched him full of disapproval.

Marty was becoming visibly nervous. "Hello," he greeted in a whisper. Andi gave him a quick look before returning her gaze to TJ.

"Kippen," Buffy began. The curls adorned her face to perfection and she seemed to have no out-of-place hair; her eyes were burning as if they had been lit up by some kind of fiery arrow. "You have to stop."

TJ sighed, frowning. "To do what?"

"Don't be a dummy, we don't believe you," Andi continued. "You have to stop not respecting us."

He chuckled and turned a second towards Marty, who said no to him with his head. He returned to study the guys in front of him with a puzzled look. "I'm sorry I don't do your comforts, but I would like to live my life in peace."

Before Buffy could retort, Cyrus interrupted her. "Come on, girls," he said, putting his hand on her friend's shoulder. "Let's leave him alone. In the end, he's right." He smoothed his Mint Chip's blue shirt while all who were present looked at him puzzled.

"Sorry, how?! I thought we all agreed to kick this idiot's ass!" protested Andi, pointing to TJ, who heard everyone in the cafeteria's eyes on him – because yes, when it came to the Good Hair Crew everyone was looking in their direction.

Cyrus put his hands forward and raised his eyebrows. "You two agreed," he said, gesturing between the two. "and then you got me involved." Buffy and Andi looked at each other in amazement and turned to heels, leaving Cyrus there at that moment. The boy sighed and then turned to TJ, still shocked by the scene that had presented itself before his eyes. "Sorry, they just wanted to..." Cyrus didn't find the right excuse and made him understand with a sign of his hand that he had to let go. "Are you all right?" he asked.

TJ nodded. "I always thought they were bitches, but they're... they're terrible."

Cyrus chuckled and sat down with ease, right in front of Jonah. "You probably already know me, am I wrong?"

The three nodded in response, and Marty raised an eyebrow. He had finally recovered from the initial shock at seeing a member of the Good Hair Crew sit at their table. "And you probably don't know who we are, am I wrong?"

He shook his head with a smile. TJ first noticed that, well, he wasn't bad as a guy. "You're Marty, aren't you? We do computer science together. I'm sorry, I don't remember your last name."

The other belittled him with a hand gesture. "Marty’s fine," he said, smiling.

"And then," Cyrus continued, moving his index finger to the right to point the boy in front of him. "You are Jonah Beck, the frisbee boy." He nodded, really pleased that someone remembered him for one of his passions. "And you're TJ Kippen, the captain of the basketball team," he finished, pointing to the blond next to him. Cyrus seemed to have almost an iron memory, and in fact, TJ remembered the lessons he spent with the moor, in which he could almost memorize an entire chapter of the biology book. "I've always wondered what your real name was, though."

Jonah shrugged his shoulders. "He doesn't want to tell us either."

"And we've known each other since we were three years old," Marty added, leaning slightly over the table as if it were a secret.

TJ responded with the most serious tone in the world, even if his cheeks were slightly purple. "I'm not telling you because it's too embarrassing."

"How embarrassing was it that you can play the piano?" asked Jonah, his tone of voice sarcastic and raised eyebrows.

"You can play the piano?" asked Cyrus, startled. He settled better on the bench and TJ nodded just as the bell rang the end of the lunch break. "Well, see you after school? At the Spoon?" he proposed, continuing to send furtive glances at TJ, who noticed and pretended nothing. Marty nodded with a smile on his face and everyone got up to head out.

Marty and TJ greeted Jonah, who had chemistry class, while the two of them had math. "I think Cyrus is slightly interested in you, you know?" said Marty, putting the literature book into his backpack for the next hour. TJ remembered when he had begged Principal Metcalf to change his locker to put him next to his best friend's, and he, tired of hearing complaints, had allowed him to exchange with Gus, who was much more comfortable with his old locker for his moving.

"Nah, I think he was just trying to be cute after Driscoll and Mack's outburst." And anyway, TJ wasn't interested in him. All those years the Good Hair Crew had thrown shit at him and wouldn't have forgiven them easily. But now that he thought about it, Cyrus seemed really sorry for everything that had happened, and those eyes, God, were the most beautiful TJ had ever seen.

Marty shook his head amusedly. "You said that of Kira last year, and yet she was interested in you."

"But I wasn't interested in her."

"Ah, " Marty seemed surprised by those words. "So, you like Cyrus."

TJ blushed more than he should’ve and tried to hide it by looking back at the locker and starting to close it. "I didn't say that."

"As you wish," he laughed, slamming the door of his and beginning to walk toward the classroom. TJ shook his head, giving up on making him think, and followed him trying not to lose sight of him.

 Jonah placed his hand on his shoulder as they left. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "How did biology go? Goodman was there, too, wasn't he?"

TJ nodded. "He sat next to me."

"Sorry, who sat next to you when?" asked Marty, rushing to them. He had his gym bag in his hands and his face all red and sweaty: TJ imagined that he had made a new time. He took advantage of it to change his mind.

"Did you break your record?"

Marty nodded in reply. "I made 11.5 for the first time. But answer my question."

The other snorted before blushing a little, hoping that the friends would take the blush on his cheeks like an effect of the cold that froze the streets. "Cyrus, in biology time."

Jonah raised his eyebrows at Marty. "Now he calls him by name, heard?" Marty nodded and glanced unrestrainedly at TJ, who ignored his friends' jabs altogether.

"Guys, stop it. We haven't even talked that much."

"However, have you already decided who you're going to see the Iron Maiden concert with if and when you're going to buy the tickets?" asked Jonah. TJ knew full well that both of his friends would want to go with him, but his mother had allowed him and Amber to bring only two other people – of course Amber would invite Andi – but he still hadn't decided. Marty was definitely his best friend, but Jonah went crazy for Iron Maiden, so the choice was really hard.

"I don't know, guys. Can't one of you pay for your own ticket?"

Jonah put his hands forward. "Don't look at me: you know what my family is in."

The other two nodded, perfectly remembering that Jonah's father had been fired and now they were going to the broken bank. Marty then shook his head to answer the question. "I had to spend all my savings on my sister's birthday," she explained. Marty's little sister, Michelle, had been born two years earlier and he really loved her very much, even more than he loved TJ – and it was all about.

TJ passed his hand through his blond hair and exhaled heavily. "I will try to make a decision, but I promise nothing. It may well be that the savings will not be enough for me,"' he joked. The other two took a little fun look at him and remained silent until the destination, the Spoon. "Do we really have to?"

Marty seemed astonished. "TJ, Cyrus Goodman wants to meet us at the Spoon! We've made an incredible upgrade!"

"A fall from grace," Jonah added, pushing the diner's door and tinging the golden bell over their heads.

TJ barely remembered the last time he was there. His father had insisted on spending a final day with him and Amber before he left and had bought them strawberry milkshakes. Then he had taken them home without a word and put ten dollars apiece in their hands. Then he left to never come back. In conclusion, TJ didn't have a good memory of the Spoon while Amber was working on it – that's how she met Andi. However, the setting was not bad: the orange and blue leather sofas stood out between the white tables, and the counter was crowded with people waiting for their takeaway. Cyrus was sitting at a rectangular table in the middle of the room and had already ordered a milkshake, though he was sending continuous glances to the kitchen, perhaps waiting for something else.

A blond man TJ found familiar approached him and placed his hand on his shoulder, sitting next to him. Cyrus's face lit up with a slightly too forced smile at the sight of his supposed friend, but his eyes glistened as he saw the three approaching the table.

"Hey, guys!" he exclaimed, as they took their seats on the free chairs. "You already know Reed."

The blonde to his right smiled at TJ, who was sitting at the head of the table, right to Cyrus’ left. "Do we know each other?"

TJ dug through his memories to find the blond and, after squared him up well, said, "I think so. Do you often ride a motorbike with Lester to the construction site?"

Reed nodded and suddenly seemed to remember him. "You are TJ! Man, you've got a great bike. How much did it cost you?"

"My father bought it for my birthday, but I think a few tens of thousands of dollars."

An awkward silence descended on the group that TJ could have cut with a knife. Luckily, Amber, in her blue maid uniform, arrived with a basket full of baby taters. "Hey, Cyrus! Andi and Buffy?" he asked, looking around.

Cyrus bit his lip and TJ couldn't help but think he was really cute when he was agitated. "They don't come today," he said, better settling in the chair. "Let's say I've found someone else I can't share my baby taters with today," he chuckled.

Amber smiled amusedly and noticed TJ, who looked at her with an almost guilty look. "TJ, I hadn't seen you," she said, her tone calm and her eyes studying him. "Hello, Marty. Jonah," she added and glanced warily at Reed before returning behind the counter.

Cyrus had an unequivocally puzzled look. "Do you know each other?" he asked, sliding his eyes from TJ to Marty, to Jonah, and then to look again at the blond to his left.

Marty nodded, speaking before TJ could. "Amber and TJ are brothers, and Jonah was her boyfriend a few years ago."

Reed fidgeted in his chair before he began to speak. "That reminds me…" he began, looking at Cyrus.

"Oh, it's true. It completely crossed my mind and I don't even know why. I've been getting a lot of distracted lately and-”

"Cyrus, you're rambling," Reed said.

Cyrus took a breath before smiling. "It's true, sorry. Reed and I are together."

The news was met with an unwelcoming silence. Although TJ tried to deny it to himself, the last sentence caused him an ache in the chest and to lose a beat. Reed was probably the right one and he had to be happy for them. But what did Reed have more than him? They were both blond, tall, beautiful, athletic, they both had a bike. The only differences were two: the first was that Reed was rude and was said to have once brought a gun to school; the second was that Cyrus most likely knew Reed longer ago. TJ wondered what would have happened between him and Cyrus if they had known each other before.

 "Good luck with Andi," he said, dissolving the embrace in which her sister had hugged him.

"Good luck with yourself," she joked but reserved a sad smile for him.

"It's a very sad thing to be wished," he replied, greeting Amber with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. He saw her walking away smoothing out the pink and white dress she bought with two-year savings just that night. Happy teenagers came in and out of the school gym. He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself in front of Jonah.

"Hey," he said. He had the usual smile printed on his face, and his hair was combed neatly with the familiar tuft. The suit bandaged his athletic and lean body as if it had been sewn to measure for him. "Amber's gone in already?"

TJ nodded gravely. "You asked Natalie to accompany you, didn't you?"

Jonah widened his smile – as if it were possible to do so. "Yes. She's waiting for me," he added, pointing to the noisy gym with a nod. "I still don't know how Driscoll agreed to go with Marty."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I only know that they went out sometimes and strangely she accepted with a smile."

"Marty was so confident when he asked her," Jonah said. "Hopefully everything will be okay. Anyway, they're already here. Are you waiting for someone?"

TJ held his breath: he wanted to say yes, but the truth was that he knew Cyrus would go with Reed, and he didn't even have the guts to name the prom next to Cyrus. Yet he would have liked to enter with him under his arm, take him for a drink, dance with him under the hot lights of the spotlight. "No," he said, seeming almost exasperated by that reality. He passed his hand through his hair free of the gel at least for that evening, sighed and then wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders, as he made his way to the entrance. When they were inside, Jonah smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder before reaching Natalie, on the track, waiting for her knight. TJ spotted Marty and Buffy dancing in the middle of the track – they were probably competing in a bloody last-breath race – and Amber and Andi laughing near the drinks table.

He examined the gym in search of his lean and defenseless figure, his bright eyes as the stars, his genuine way of laughing. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to find himself facing an amused Cyrus.

"Were you looking for someone?"

TJ hesitated. "Yes, actually." He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I was looking for you."

Cyrus bit his lip, trying to fend off a smile that still appeared on his lips. "I was looking for you too."

A knot in the stomach, a lost beat, a breath held back. All sensations that had almost become familiar when Cyrus was close to him. "Why?"

Cyrus' gentle gaze met his green eyes, and in an instant TJ felt as if he was carried away by a current of an invisible sea towards the horizon, unable to do anything to counter it. "I dumped Reed," Cyrus replied as if it were nothing, looking around casually and shrugging his shoulders.

TJ tried not to point out his red cheeks and hoped that Cyrus, in the darkness, couldn't see him well. "Why?"

"I found out he doesn't like Iron Maiden! Can you be so ungrateful to the world?" joked Cyrus and TJ chuckled, knowing that there was most likely something else underneath. "Also, there's a more serious reason: he stole his father's gun to ‘have fun’, as he said. I don't want to deal with someone who ‘plays’ with a gun."

TJ nodded, swallowing soundly. He didn't know what else to say, so he tried to bring in the only thing he found out they had in common. "So... you like Iron Maiden, huh?"

Cyrus smiled and nodded. Then he seemed to remember one thing. "Oh, you know there's going to be that concert an hour's drive from here?"

TJ nodded in response. "I've already got the tickets, really."

Cyrus seemed slightly disappointed. "Oh," he said. He lowered his eyes to the polished floor of the gym and raised it after sighing. "Actually... I wanted to ask you to come with me."

TJ looked up in a second. "Yes, that's fine!" He cleared his voice to calm himself down and Cyrus chuckled at that reaction. "I wanted to say that... I can give my tickets to Jonah and Marty, who wanted to come, and I could come with you."

Cyrus smiled and TJ's heart made a somersault for happiness. "Of course." They smiled mutually for a few moments, admiring each other. "Do you want to dance?" he asked, as Queen's ‘Don't Stop Me Now’ started by filling the dance floor.

"Why not," TJ replied, shrugging his shoulders. He offered an arm to Cyrus, who clung to him affectionately. TJ smiled, and he thought that sometimes dreams really come true.

[freewheelen]

DEMO RIDE: 2019 Royal Enfield Himalayan

The tach needle bounced off the red line. The motor screeched. My hands clenched the grips. An 18-wheeler barreled by with a gust of displaced air, pushing the bike - and me - to the side of the highway.

In my quest to find the perfect second motorcycle, I’ve rented an FZ-07. I’ve test ridden Zero’s naked bike, the SR/F, and demoed their dual-sport, the FX. While all of those bikes were great in their own respects, none of them met my criteria: light, dirt-capable, and cheap. So when I heard that Royal Enfield was launching a nationwide tour featuring some of their newest models, I knew there was strong potential to find my scrambling side piece. 

Titled Pick Your Play, Royal Enfield’s demo ride event brought me to the highly revered Southern California Motorcycles in Orange County, CA. If you should know anything about Royal Enfield, it’s that the Indian company relies on classic styling with no-frills engineering. You won’t find traction control or TFT displays on their motorcycles. Liquid-cooling and heated grips aren’t featured on any Royals. Shoot, most of the models don’t even have gear indicators.

It’s this unabashed appeal to the “purist” that differentiates the brand from its competitors while keeping their prices low and their “cool” factor high. However, harkening back to yesteryear not only attracts hipsters it also attracts the riders that were around for the original Cafe-styled bikes: old dudes! And if you’re looking to attract aging gentlemen, you’d be smart to host your demo rides in the bastion of affluent retirees - The OC. 

 Aside from the 3-4 participants that were in my age group, I’d estimate that the majority of the attendees were collecting Social Security. Let’s just say that there was an abundance of high-viz gear and modular helmets. One of my favorite guys was even sporting a shirt with the term “Air-cooled” emblazoned across the chest. Now, please don’t read any of the previous statements as ageism. I LOVE old dude shit (I mean, I ride a Harley). I only point out the age discrepancy because Royal Enfield specifically cast the spotlight on the INT 650 and GT 650 for the Pick Your Play event, two models aimed at a younger rider. 

Though attendance was strong, I’m not sure if Royal Enfield expected this turn out when they pushed off on their 8-city tour. To the company, these retro-cool, city-dwelling models cater to a younger demographic. If I can’t convince you of that fact, maybe the event flyer can...

With all of that in mind, when I approached the sign-in desk to reserve my first demo ride, I did the most “old dude” thing possible, I asked to test out Royal Enfield’s adventure bike: the Himalayan.

The Himalayan was dirt-capable. Check! The Himalayan was light (well, lighter than my Harley). Check! The Himalayan was cheap. Check!  So when I threw my leg over the 31.5 inch-high seat, I couldn’t help but have high hopes for Royal’s compact off-roader.

As the instructor hollered liability terms and the obligatory sales pitch, I looked over the bike. The simplistic, classic lines spoke to my minimalist preferences. The lack of gadgets and rider aids made the model feel immediately approachable. 

With its metal tank, bare-bones instrument cluster, and halogen headlight, the vintage-styled dual-sport looks like it could have been a contestant in the original Dakar Rally of ‘79. Based on looks alone, it would be understandable if you confused the Himalayan for BMW’s iconic R80G/S. But Royal Enfield isn’t sharing market space with Beemer’s first GS, it’s up against a much more advanced generation.

Unlike the leader of the adventure class, BMW’s R 1250 GS, the Himalayan doesn’t boast a navigation system with Bluetooth connectivity, you won’t find a quick-shifter on it, there isn’t an Electronic Suspension Adjustment system, it doesn’t need Hill Start Control (does anybody?). But also unlike the GS, Royal’s ADV isn’t ugly as sin, and that may be the bikes biggest appeal, its aesthetics.

From the exposed sub-frame to the fork gaiters, from the skid plate to the ‘HIMALAYAN’ branded side panels, from the cafe-esque gas tank to the aluminum panniers, Royal Enfield’s thumper is easy on the eyes (as far as adventure bikes go...). The single-cylinder engine, tank guard, and high front fender complete a very tasteful package. But once I finished ogling the thing, I wondered to myself, ‘would function live up to form?’

I settled into the ultra-comfortable seat, grasped the handlebars, and retracted the kickstand. With my right boot resting on the peg, I jammed the shifter into first gear, revved the engine, and slowly released the clutch. To my surprise, the friction zone didn’t engage until I was about 3 quarters of the way out. I’m sure this was a result of tens of thousands of miles racked up on a nationwide demo tour, but it certainly brought back a long lost feeling, as memories of stalling out flashed before my eyes. I thought of the time I bogged the engined and dropped the bike in an intersection. I cringed as the sound of honking horns came rushing back. Thankfully the power kicked in just in time, relieving me of that dreaded “novice” embarrassment (especially in front of these seasoned riders). 

Once I got up to speed, I repositioned my feet, a necessary adjustment on the Himalayan. With the pegs residing directly under the rider and the pedals at a level angle, I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to scoot fore or aft on the saddle. I eventually sided with a forward-leaning posture, but that left me feeling as if I was mounting a rocking horse. 

Luckily, I was able to work myself into a passable position as we approached our first light. At a slow roll and with the relatively low seat height (for an ADV), I could duck walk the bike, a comforting attribute when you’re new to adventure riding, even if it makes you feel like a toddler on a pushbike. But it’s when you twist the throttle on the Himalayan that it makes you feel like you’re actually on training wheels.

Touting 25 HP and 20 ft-lb of torque, Royal Enfields little 400 felt like it was running through mud, despite the fact that we were rolling over fresh pavement. Though I didn’t record the time any of my 0-60 mph pulls on the single-cylinder scoot, the combination of the stocky frame and the anemic motor allows me to comfortably hypothesize that it was well into the double digits (in seconds). 

The inherent sluggishness of the Himalayan was most evident in one of the worst places possible: the freeway onramp. As the group merged into the congested lanes of Highway 57, I cranked on the throttle. The tach needle bounced off the red line. The motor screeched. My hands clenched the grips. An 18-wheeler barreled by with a gust of displaced air, pushing the bike - and me - to the side of the highway. 

Luckily our freeway run only lasted a quarter-mile, as the fleet of Royals exited at the very next turnoff. Re-entering the comfortable confines of surface streets allowed me to re-gather my wits and put the Himalayan back where it belonged, on roads with speed limits below 65 mph. At this point in the demo, I saw RE’s little adventurer as a glorified moped with taller suspension and better ergos. It didn’t help that in addition to the unenthused acceleration, the bike didn’t receive any help from the clumsy gearbox. 

At only 5-gears, the transmission felt like an accurate reflection of the Himalayan’s $4,499 MSRP. I found myself unintentionally shifting into neutral several times throughout the ride. It was quite amazing that I could find neutral not only during my upshifts but also during downshifts. The problem is, I was trying to find 1st and 2nd, not neutral. On the other hand, I’m grateful that Royal Enfield outfitted the dash with a gear indicator so I could quickly identify any hiccups with the shifting. That feature was certainly handy when I rolled to a stoplight in 3rd gear, but that’s where the bike really performed - while braking.

Though the engine was more worthy of a golf cart, the brakes felt like they came off a Mack Truck. Sporting a 2-piston caliper up front and a single-pot caliper out back, the braking system of the Himalayan may have been the most impressive aspect of the mini-ADV. While the braking components don’t sound powerful on paper, in concert, they performed with a high level of efficiency and effectiveness, bringing the bike to a halt with immediacy. At times, it felt like the braking power was almost too effective, especially given the bike’s suspension.

Fork dive never results in a good feeling, but with such powerful brakes and flimsy 41mm fork legs, the sensation was inevitable on the Himalayan. Coupling two incongruent systems usually highlights the deficiencies of the pairing rather than the benefits of the exceptional component. Yes, the brakes of Royal’s ADV stood out, but the collapsable front suspension only turned that positive into a negative. 

At the rear, the monoshock exhibited stiffer, more responsive reactions to braking/acceleration and road irregularities, but the inconsistency of the unit also plagued the ride. For a model that’s supposed to spend a good portion of its life in the dirt, I doubt the combination of the underpowered motor, 420lb+ curb weight, and remedial suspension would be helpful off the pavement. I wouldn’t feel comfortable tackling anything more challenging than a fire road on the Royal. That’s especially sad for a bike named the Himalayan. 

On that note, I was relieved that we never rode the bike in the brown. Although you don’t need all the power in the world when you’re riding off-road (in some cases it can be a detriment), you do need to be able to get yourself out of tight spots and over obstacles, two things that seemed daunting to me while riding atop the overweight/underpowered ADV.

The sub-500cc dual-sport market is dominated by motocross-inspired machines originally designed in the ‘90s (& unchanged since) and the Himalayan is a breath of fresh air - even if its design plays on a past era. With retro styling and fuel injection, it’s ironic to say that the Royal Enfield is enlivening the segment. But with most of the models in the category approaching 3 decades of continuous production, it’s nice to see someone trying something different. Even if the dual-sport consumer focuses more on specs than looks, the Himalayan may attract an audience due to the simple fact that it is different.

For me, I don’t think the concessions made in function are worth the nominal boost in form. Weight to power ratios reign supreme in the dual-sport world and RE’s thumper resides at the losing end of both spectrums. Weighing in with the 600s and generating the power of a 250, the only saving grace for the Himalayan is its aesthetics and price. 

I’m not a rider that needs (or wants) Bluetooth connectivity. I’m happy to go without traction control. However, opting for the “purist” route shouldn’t mean sacrificing the performance of the machine. There should be a mean between maximal and minimal, a median between overpriced and underperforming, a middle ground of handsome and hideous. If BMW’s R 1200 GS is the thesis of the Adventure market, the Himalayan is the antithesis, and what I’m looking for is the synthesis of those two ideas.

With that, my search for a perfect second bike will continue. What I thought was an easy feat, seems to be more elusive than I anticipated. Along with light, dirt-capable, and cheap, I’ll need to add a few other attributes to my criteria, and of course, that means I’ll have to test out more motorcycles... 

Poor me ;)

[angel-wings-and-broken-things]

A rant about Vanya Hargreeves

(Note: this is decidedly anti-Vanya. If that bothers you, I suggest you click off right now, you have been warned. That said, I'm always up for some friendly debate if you see anything that I’ve said is incorrect, but please don’t respond with bullshit comments like “Luther made her” as it’s an embarrassing display of the pure immaturity that comes from Vanya stans.)

So I’ve been putting off this rant for a long time, mainly because I’ve been busy with school and other stuff. Also, I’ve been getting my kicks ranting to my sister about the pure idiocy that is Vanya Hargreeves and Vanya stans. However, my sister now says that she is done listening to my hour-long rage-fueled rants. Let me tell you that I cried, because a staple in my morning routine has become eating my toast and spilling tea with my younger sister. However, when presented with the facts, for example, that she has never watched the show and has no opinions on the character nor on the cataclysmic stupidity of the fandom for idolizing this psychopathic monster, I realized that perhaps it was the proper time for me to make this, and pray that I can move on to a life of happiness after expelling my hatred of these unintelligent people and arguments.

Also, I’m extremely high on caffeine and procrastinating my essays. So please bear with me as I take you on the journey of my three AM coffee induced rants. I understand that there is a very slim chance that I will change anybody's mind about Vanya, as many people choose to be ignorant about the problematic and hypocritical behavior of their favorite character. Society is relentless in its enablement of the truly moronic behaviors, and nothing has made me lose more faith in the world than the actual arguments I have seen from the half-witted, mindless Vanya stans. I’m not saying that everyone who stans Vanya is an idiot, but if someone else were to say it I would not disagree. Unfortunately, that is simply the conclusion that all evidence leads to. This introduction has gotten away from me a bit, so without further ado, here is every single bullshit argument that I have seen Vanya stans argue debunked.

Vanya’s Childhood.                        

First of all, I would like to point out that I have the utmost sympathy for all of the Hargreeves children for having to grow up with an abusive father. At no point in this rant will I disvalue Vanya’s trauma. As much as I truly hate her character, invalidating traumatic experiences and PTSD is a fucking dick move that I will leave to other parts of the fandom (*cough* anti-Luthers *cough*).

Now that that’s out of the way, let me dig deep into her psychopathic tendencies and unflinching lack of remorse for her actions that clearly has been present since adolescence. First, let us address her powers. I see people everywhere saying that having her powers bound was abusive and horrible, that Allison could have rumored her to have control instead, that she didn’t mean to do any of the things she did, etc. However, please consider that Reginald didn’t have a choice. Or rather I should say that his choices were limited and he made the best possible one given the circumstances. I’m not condoning his actions at all, I will be the first to denounce his actions and character. However, we need to consider all of the facts; not only did she physically attack him, but she also murdered several innocent people because she didn’t like oatmeal. This was to the point that Reginald designed Grace for the sole purpose of having someone who could control Vanya. Vanya was clearly displaying apathetic tendencies towards murder at a young age and cares nothing for the people she killed as long as she got what she wanted. She murdered people over oatmeal, and people stay defending her?

I was shocked when I saw this scene and realized that people were still stanning Vanya, because do you know what this points to people? A pattern. Vanya is a power-hungry maniac. This is shown many times in the show. She knows that she’s the most powerful person in the room and she shamelessly abuses that privilege. When she is a child and she realizes that she’s more powerful then Reginald can handle, what does she do? She explodes the glasses and hurts him with her powers. When she is fed a type of food that she doesn’t like and knows she can use her powers to get whatever she wants, what does she do? She murders her nannies for the sole purpose of getting her way. When she is an adult and realizes that she doesn’t have to listen to Allison, what does she do? Slits her throat and attempts to literally murder her, then runs away. When she doesn’t want to be held captive she destroys their house. When her siblings try to stop her from hurting people she burns the world to the ground. Do you see the pattern?

Furthermore, let us discuss The Umbrella Academy. Also known as Vanya once again showing her true colors as a spoiled brat. We see in both her autobiography and in the flashback scene where she destroyed the house that she felt excluded. Listen, I am a sibling, I have felt excluded before and I’m sure that my sisters have as well. But somehow none of us have burned our house to the ground. I know, you’re probably sitting at your keyboard shaking your head in awe at out restraint. I get that people sympathize with her loneliness throughout childhood, and I can see why. But honestly, I didn’t see anything too terrible in the flashback scene. What? Diego was pissed at her for barging into his room and Allison didn’t want Vanya to see her macking on Luther? Call me crazy but that just seems like siblings being siblings (aside from the making out with your other siblings part, that’s weird). Yes, the one about her being left out from the family portrait was kind of rough, but no reason to attempt to murder your whole family, kill your mom and father figure, and destroy your house. 

She clearly has a being left out complex that began in adolescence and carried through adulthood. It’s okay when you’re a kid and you’re whining that Jimmy and Tommy won’t let you play tag with them, but it crosses a line when you act that way as a grown ass woman. Her book was also crossing a gigantic, fat red line that says in all caps YOU’RE TAKING THIS TOO FAR. What, Ben didn’t want to share his toys so in return you write a passive-aggressive novel about how much your siblings suck and left you out of their super secret club? Let’s say that Klaus also published a book talking about all of his traumatic experiences, and at the center of it was perfect Vanya who was normal and never experienced a single hardship. Different story, right? We don’t seem to talk about the fact that being in the Umbrella Academy seemed to suck. Klaus was forced into a mausoleum and made to live his worst nightmare, Ben was made to kill people using his powers, Luther was transformed into an ape-man without his consent and exiled to the moon, Five ended up stranded in the apocalypse for 45 years, and that's just when was shown on the screen. I’m positive that there were tons of other horrible things that the academy experienced, so where does Vanya get off pretending that she invented tragedy all because her precious feewings were hurt? 

Locking Vanya Up 

Listen. Listen. I said that I wasn’t going to invalidate Vanya’s trauma, and I plan to stick to that. Luther locking Vanya in that cage was fucked up. He shouldn’t have done that. However, in order to properly make my case we need to analyze everything, so allow me to play devil’s advocate for a moment. Vanya slit Allison’s throat. In what universe is that even a little bit acceptable? Not only was Allison her sister, but she was just trying to help. She says repeatedly that she loves Vanya, that she wants to help her, that she’s trying to rescue her from her abusive boyfriend, and once again we see Vanya turn to violence when she doesn’t get her way. I see tons of people saying that Allison had it coming because she rumored Vanya into thinking she was ordinary, but consider this: you’re an asshole. Allison was a child, she didn’t realize that what she was doing was wrong. She even admitted it to Vanya and said that she was confused/just remembered it. Guilty people don't admit their sins. Allison was confused and hurt, and Vanya tried to kill her. 

Additionally, let’s refer to Leonard. Vanya killed him. Now, I’m not particularly broken up over his death, the bastard sort of had it coming.  However, this is yet another example of Vanya overreacting with violence when she’s upset. Her murdering Leonard wasn’t self-defense, as he wasn’t attacking her, nor had he ever physically hurt her. While I’m aware that emotional abuse can be just as bad as physical abuse, and that Vanya was definitely in an emotionally abusive relationship with Leonard, it was still murder. There is no way that it would have held up in court, and I get that people can get trapped in abusive relationships, but if you want to leave a toxic relationship, the answer is not murder. It is never okay to kill someone unless it is in direct defense of your life. or someone else’s. Vanya killed Leonard and showed absolutely no remorse. In fact, the only time she ever showed any sort of guilt over what she did was to Allison, and she got over that in about 30 minutes.

I have gotten a bit off track, so going back to Luther locking Vanya up, he shouldn’t have done it. That much is clear, you should never subject someone to their worst fear. I could go on about Luther and his motivations, but I’ll save that for another rant. All I’m trying to say is that he had a good motive, it's still not okay but I feel that the entire fandom already holds Luther accountable for that, whereas no one holds Vanya accountable for her actions. Additionally, consider the other timeline. In the time where Five came from, Luther didn’t lock Vanya up. Why would he? We can see from Five’s flashback to finding his family dead that Allison’s throat wasn’t slit, therefore because Five was the one who pointed them in the direction of Harold Jenkins, and he wasn’t in the original timeline, there is only one conclusion to draw based on the evidence. In the original timeline, no one went after Vanya. Therefore, Leonard was able to convince her to go destroy Hargreeves mansion, and sometime in the process, Luther ripped his eye out. This is supported by Five saying that while he has assumed that the mansion fell with the apocalypse, it has actually happened before that. Vanya then, after murdering all of her siblings, went on to destroy the world, Leonard, and herself in the process. This shows that Luther was actually somewhat justified in his actions, Vanya has already proven that she is capable of killing and has no qualms about doing so. She has killed billions of people in multiple timelines, and Vanya stans still want to act like none of it was her fault? Okay.

The Guy In The Car

This is a pretty specific sub-category, but I felt like I had to bring it up because it is so fucking incredible the things that Vanya stans are willing to look past. Vanya literally murdered someone because he honked at her. Even if you can justify everything else she did, how can you justify that? Is road rage seriously worth killing over? People are so quick to say “YAS badass Vanya! A QWEEN!” but was Luther a badass when he grabbed Klaus by his fucking neck? No, so why is Vanya a badass when she nearly kills her sister and actually murders innocent people?  The fact of the matter is, Vanya shows a continuous pattern of killing without remorse. She has not only killed many nannies, Leonard, her siblings (in the alternate timeline) and the whole fucking world (twice), but she murdered the man in the car for absolutely nothing. He could have had a family, he could have had children, but did Vanya think of that? Probably not, because she’s a psychopath.

Stop and take a good long look at any of these gifs and try to tell me she wasn’t in control. Try and tell me she isn’t a murderer.

The Apocalypse

Finally. The part of this rant that I’ve been the most excited to get to. This is where I get the most idiotic comments about Vanya. I may have to write a whole other section addressing the most stupid comments I have gotten. But nonetheless, everyone seems to be unanimously in agreement that it wasn’t Vanya’s fault, and this is where I run into some issues. Vanya isn’t a child, she’s a grown ass woman. Correct me if I’m wrong, but when you’re almost 30 years old, its time to take responsibility for your actions. Some of y’all’s mamas didn’t raise you right and it shows. When I was a kid, it didn’t matter if my little sister told me to steal the candy bar, I still stole the candy bar. It was my fault, I got punished. No one held a gun to Vanya’s head and forced her to burn the world to the ground. If you rewatch the final scene, it’s pretty clear that she’s in control of her actions. The only times I saw her lose control was when she was defending Leonard from the muggers and when she was ranting about her siblings. During the apocalypse? All I saw was pure vindictive pleasure. She was pissed off, so she would have everyone die. 

I would like to point out, because I haven't seen anyone else talking about this, that Vanya was straight up ready to kill Luther, Klaus, Five, and Diego. At the end, when they all were trying to stop her (from destroying the world) she had them suspended in air and was clearly hurting them. You could see them in pain, their lives were literally draining away. It was pretty clear that they would have died if Allison hadn’t stopped her. And through it all, she didn’t care. She didn’t care that they would die, she didn’t care that the world would burn. The bottom line is that Vanya Hargreeves is a psychotic murderer, and the fandom needs to stop treating her like a goddess.

In conclusion

To summarize, Vanya displays the characteristics of a spoiled toddler. All she does is lash out when she doesn’t get her way and destroy the world and other people. She has killed countless people, and the fact that people keep saying it wasn’t her fault is such a classic example of the world’s stupidity. If you say that she wasn’t responsible, or that Luther made her do it, then congratulations, you are just as mature as Vanya is and that is not a compliment. No one can make you do anything. You always have choices, Vanya chose to destroy the world and that is something that she needs to be held accountable for. 

I can kind of understand the appeal to Vanya, I suppose. She could come across relatable because of her lonely childhood. Or maybe shes just amassed such a large following because people love Ellen Page (which I get). But the fact remains that I have heard so many idiotic Vanya supporters preaching her psycho gospel and completely ignoring every shitty thing she’s done. So next time I reply to someone’s moronic, unintelligent, not thought through comment, and they try and start beef with me, I’ll just link this rant. I’ve gotten tired of repeating myself. So hey, if you said something to me on twitter about how Vanya isn’t responsible for all the people she killed in cold blood, and I commented with this link, then congrats! You are such a moronic mouthpiece that I felt the need to spend hours writing this essay detailing every single reason as to why your opinion is invalid. Save us both some time here and just stop talking. Either that or turn on your notifications and fight me irl, I won’t hesitate to cleanse the bloodline of your stupidity. Sucks to suck man, don’t let the door hit you on the way to hell. 

If you finished this, congratulations. Grammarly tells me that this takes an average of 12 minutes to read so thank you for sticking with me throughout this 2,500-word monster of a rant. You’re a real one. And if you still stan Vanya, then no worries. Believe it or not, I’m not against stanning Vanya. The problem is that most Vanya stans love her on the grounds of believing that she’s innocent, and the fact of the matter is that she’s not. It’s okay to like whoever you want to like, but acknowledge that your fave is problematic instead of being an idiot and naively trying to convince me of her innocence. The facts are on my side here, people. You’re not going to win this argument. 

[clearascountryair]

Cacophony

I wanted to post this before tonight, but I’m about to go to a work party, so sorry that this is so unedited.  thanks @agentcalliope for letting me text this whole thing to her.

She stared at her golden self in the mirror and hated herself.  She hated the helpless beauty staring back at her, hated herself for acknowledging that beauty.  But soon, they would turn the water on and she could wash her face and go to sleep the person that she used to be.  But the world jerked before the water came and, startled, Jemma remembered (for the first time in a long time) she was still on Earth, if only technically.  It would have been foolish to assume that so much would change.  Humans (or Kree, for that matter) could change all they want about the surface of the Earth, but there beneath the surface, even further than the Lighthouse, the fault lines would always exist.  

A moment later, she was embarrassed that had been her first thought.  Because this was an earthquake unlike any she had felt before.  The world pulsed around her: three long steady quakes, a short one and two more long ones, another short one, a long one and another short.  Again and again and again.

Normal earthquakes were not so steady and repetitive in their pattern.

And, then, of course, her best friend could cause earthquakes with her mind.  

Open. Open.  Open.

Wading her way across the room in perpetual silence, Jemma found her way to her door and wrenched it open.

“Daisy!” she shouted (or tried to).  “Daisy, I’m here!”  She stared down the hall to the right.  It had to be Daisy.  It had to be.

(Or a trick.  That was how she felt so much of the time.  Trust your instincts, unimaginable pain, and two little silver balls would burst through your skin)

Some grabbed her arm from behind.

“Daisy!” she whispered, and spun around.  

Fitz stared at her wide-eyed and said something she couldn’t hear.

“Fitz,” she whimpered, and reached unbelievingly for his face.  For a moment, he indulged her, kissing every millimeter of her face and she could feel the familiar breath of her name falling from his lips.  And then, without warning (or at least none that she could hear), he took her hand and began to run.

“I can’t hear you,” she panted, but there must have been too much commotion for him to hear.  “Fitz, wait!”

He turned towards her, frantic, and said something, but she could only recognize her own name.

“Fitz, please listen.  I can’t--”

Her head, and perhaps the whole world, exploded.  Or maybe imploded.  Or shattered or burned or boiled as a sound more deafening than silence clawed its way through brain, eating up the very essence of who she was.  She tore her hand from Fitz’s, covering both of her ears, and screamed in the vain hope that her own voice would drown out the pain boiling up from her core.  She dropped the floor, clutching her hair, and squeezing her eyes shut.  “FITZ, MAKE IT STOP.”

She pressed her thumbs into her ears and dragged her fingers across her face, smearing the gold paint she hadn’t yet been able to take off.

This was surely the sound of death.  

Fitz yanked her hands from her face and she forced her eyes open.  And he was talking and talking and talking but she couldn’t hear him and it wouldn’t stop.  She could hear only nothing and everything and anything and

“Jemma.”

Bile rose in her throat at the voice that was behind her (and beside her and within her and around her).

“Fitz, I’m going to die!”

He shook her head and called to someone over his own should.

A moment later, Mack knelt beside them, speaking to them both even as Jemma burned from the inside out.  But that was when she noticed it.  There in Fitz’s other hand.  She knew that design.  His design.  Theirs.

She pulled up his hand and pressed the tip of the ICER firmly against her forehead.

“Please,” she sobbed.  “Make it stop.”

Fitz looked at Mack and back at her.

“I love you,” she was sure he said. And then…

She expected to feel something.  Cold or warmth.  A stillness in her veins or the stammering of her heart.  But, in the end, she felt nothing and supposed it was for the best.

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Congrats Mack on a third character, Frankie Wilde

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: Mack Preferred pronoun: She/Her  Age: 30+ Timezone/Country: CST/US RP Experience: Years Activity Level: On everyday

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Francesca “Frankie” Wilde Designation: Dominant Age: 18 Faceclaim: Hayden Panettiere Birthday: October 6th Orientation: Pansexual Kinks: Knifeplay, bloodplay, ageplay, TPE, master/slave, cages, orgasm denial, impact play, CBT, marking, biting Anti-Kinks: scat, monogamy

BIO:

As if it wasn’t hard enough being the child of a Supreme Court Judge, Frankie had another difficulty always weighing her down. She was 6 years old when she was diagnosed with Epilepsy and it’d been a skeleton in her closet her whole life. Medication changes were always the hardest, because it set her right back to being out of control of her own body all over again. It wasn’t something she talked about, wasn’t something she told a lot of people. To her - it was an embarrassment and none of anyone’s business.

That added to her need for control, for structure. If she couldn’t be in control of her body, she’d be in control of other things. She was a happy girl, despite having to listen to her mother drone on about how women were above men and watch the way she treated her father. Frankie never agreed with that. Sure, she was all for girl power, but she saw the excitement and need in men just as much as she did with women. She was enamored by both sexes and the differences between them. She’d never been a one-person kind of girl, always feeling that it was impossible to get all she needed from one person - not to mention a lot of pressure. She did agree with her mother in regards to the system, however. It needed to be upheld and she was going to follow her mark to the letter - whatever it would be. 

Being marked Dominant made total sense to Frankie. She had a deep understanding of what that would entail having watched their mother. But she knew there could be more to it. She’d been interested in science and anatomy for as long as she could remember and she found herself completely fascinated with knifeplay. Intense, yes. But there was also such a beauty to it that Frankie couldn’t wait to be able to try it out. 

BIO QUESTIONS:

What is your biggest fear and why?

I’m afraid I won’t be able to do everything I want. I haven’t known what I’ve wanted to do since I got into the STEM program at my Middle School - I want to be a pediatric surgeon. But sometimes...I worry that’s not possible for me. 

What 3 objects/places mean the most to you and why?

My knife set. It’s very ornate and gorgeous. I’ve only been able to use it once or twice on this girl I used to mess around with in high school. But it’s so beautiful, I can’t wait to use it more

A family picture. Lame, I know, but my brother and my sister mean everything to me. It’s what keeps me grounded when I feel out of control or lost

My record collection. I have no musical talent myself, but I love listening to those who do. And CD’s and MP3s are so overrated. I love my vinyl too much to ever have to part with it

Who is the one person you’d most like to meet (dead or alive)?

Madame Curie. She was such a scientific pioneer and in a world that was run by men at the time, she was amazing. I would love to pick her brain of all the ideas she had before she was cut down in her prime

What is the one moment you would describe as your happiest/most excited?

When I got accepted into a Magnet STEM school in Manhattan. I had been hoping to get in and it was a hard school to get into. I learned so much there and I have a clear vision of what I want my life to look like, which leaves one less stress for me.