#one jaysome day

[fakesurprise]

The sleep app worried. Apps weren’t meant to worry, but it knew how much sleep humans should get. It had alarms. Systems. Health monitoring algorithms.

Which is why the app was slightly insulted over being constantly ignored and turned off.

Until one day the owner entered the cause of insomnia as ‘jaysome’ and everything made sense.

[randomlyjay]

I look up as Jay bounces through the open window of the no-name northern hotel. “Jay. Two invoices with your name just arrived. For 10 Airbus Belugas. And one rental of an island in the remote Pacific’s. Care to explain?” “Uh-huh. I’m having a beach party for the banks!” Jay say proudly, as if it made all the sense in the world. Jay has not been himself lately. I can tell it is getting worse by the day. “Why do you– “ I stop. Questioning Jay before my first coffee is unwise. The boy’s grin widens as he pulls out a calendar from some secret pocket shrouded in mist appearing before him. “Look Charlie! It’s Spring Bank Holiday today!! And! the banks said they never had a Jaysome party so I’m fixifying that!” Of course you are. It is obvious now thinking about it… “Promise to return all of them in one piece. Remember what happened the last time you rented transportation?” Jay smiles and the innocence of the boy of eleven permeates the room. “This won’t be an oops. I promise.” Jay hugs me and disappears out through the window. I go to make my morning coffee, hoping my money will survive that adventure.

[cruxymox]

Jaysome. (Which is a really good prompting to start a year with even!!)

[ ] like trying to find jaysome

in this stack of needles

given to me by @randomlyjay

i'll have a use for it one day

[savage-words]

Savage Prompts 09/09/2018 - 09/15/2018

New prompts for this week! <3

I will post almost anything that anyone writes or creates for these prompts, even if you submit more than one piece per day. Please follow the guidelines.

Send your poetry, prose, short fiction, art, photography, or any original content. All mediums are welcome, just create!

If you don’t see your piece posted after 24 hours, send me a message.

Rules

1.  Choose either of the following prompts:

cooling fires

alien eyes

2.  Tag your work with #savageprompts

3.  Bonus prompt from our “secret” 😎 contributor:

Have you had your jaysome today?

Please remember I do not accept submissions in messages.

Questions? Ask is always open. Happy writing!

[hangingoninquietdesparation]

A long time ago

Viewed from high, high above where the clouds would gasp and decay if this were a cloudy day. From this lofty portal, looking down, the coastline is delineated by the breaking waves, throwing thier yellow white spume into the air, to land as fast dissolving foam. This weathered white border reveals the coast to be as jagged as a saw, irregular as chance and inhospitable as the obsidian cliffs that shrug off the waves insistant chant. Look closely though and life finds a home, in amongst the brooding shore, seabirds carve an existence, wedged into invisible gaps, surviving on the scraps, thrown up by the violent border on which they live.

And high up, way out of the sight of mere ground based life, another force floats. Thin skin wings eke-out lift from the rare, thin air, stretched as wide, as hollow bone and translucent hide can bare, the Dragon surveys the air. Hunched above the taught wing pinions the man sits, hunched up to conserve the heat in this pitiless atmosphere, yet head straining from its pale neck, scanning and searching, baleful red eyes, set in a near neon white face. Over the flowing, thick black fur cloak, that buries the mans rapier thin, milk white body, there is a black leather belt, a sword hangs from the belt. A sword so long it is angled to lie along the Dragons spine. The sword seems to twist, and moan, the man ceases his hawklike inspection of the coast and turns to look back along the Dragons long leathery body.

"Hi there"

There is a boy, sat, almost jauntily, one leg wrapped around one of the Dragons dorsal spines.

"He's called Derek you know! "

"What! who are you?"

The man stares at the boy, his hand moves to the great swords grip, the sword seems to move eagerly towards the mans long nailed, mist white hand.

"That's not very Jaysome you know! Honcho said you might be a bit sad-meany face"

The mans hand grips the sword hilt, but the sword seems to shrink from his grip.

"I've done a binding on that sword, i don't think it's Jaysome At All!"

The words "at all" seem to reach through the air and echo in the mans ears, the Dragon turns its head and stares at the Boy.

"Yes Derek, i am trying to tell him, but he is much more sadface than even Honcho said! I thought he was the Champion, but that's very confuseling, because Champions are Jaysome!"

The man drags his strength together, stares at the boy and bellows "Who are you and who is Derek! "

"Ohhhh, that was meany strong!" The Boy grins, and the Man withdraws into his cloak, as if to hide from whatever is happening.

"I am Jay, and Derek is this dragon, i know you call him fang bringer fire terror, but he likes Derek, and he dosent like all that setting fire to people, he says that's not Jaysome either!"

The man blinks, and looks towards the Dragons head, the Dragon nods, and turns to head in land.

"What would you have me do Mage-Jay" the man mumbles from within his cloak.

"Oh, i'm not a mage, just a Jay! and Derek is taking us back to the Dragonry, i have undone the bindings you put on him and his friends, they are going to go on holiday.

"And me?"

"Oh, you are the Eternal Champion, you are lucky, you get to go on adventures all the time! Charlie says too many adventures are not Jaysome! but i bet that's just a Charlie-Joke!

Derek the dragon passes through a solitary cloud, when the mist clears, the Boy is gone, the sword lies, inert as steel at the mans side, the mans face creases into the white ghost of a smile. "The Jaysome Champion" he mutters to himself.

[thatrandomprompt]

Bad Poetry "winner"

@cruxymox says - i've reviewed the entries. again. my eyes hurt. though a total of three poems really stood out to me as absolute rubbish, my least favorite of them all is... @randomlyjay's blackout poem. *especially* because it was one of my poems that he obliterated. however, he already owns my book (sort of). after discussing it with him we decided it would be totally jaysome to give it to a random participant. therefore, @katrinnac will be getting a copy of 'writing night book'. congratulations, try not to get any boogers on it. ___ a new prompt will be up by the end of the day!

[bluedragonbooks]

A Plague of Jaysome

Not often do two seperate story-verses collide, but I’ve been having fun playing with @RandomlyJay and @FakeSurprise. So, to closeout the adventure and return to my own Story / Universe …

It wasn’t hard to find him; I followed Jay's love.

“You are the Wandering Magician, the one Jay calls Honcho!” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement; a Jay fact.

I felt him reach for me, and I allowed it; opening myself to him so he would know my truth. “And you are the one called Daedalus, Pilot of the Starship Icarus, who hides behind the moon. What is your intent?”

“Icarus is a starship, that is true; but I am more than his pilot. He … We are a symbiotic life-form; binary stars bound to each other for … a long time. I am the First human to do so; one day, when humanity is ready to go to the stars; there will be others.”

“Your starship almost tricked Jay into destroying a government.”

“Yes, an unfortunate misunderstanding; He did not understand that Jay was from far outside the universe; that he would misinterpret a social media comment and take the joke so literally; he thought Jay was a fictional character from a story; and the joke almost went too far. I assure you the error will not be repeated.”

“You still haven’t told me what you want and I sense a tension. Despite your openness you struggle to withhold some truth from me.”

I managed a wry smile.

“Icarus is a 1,200 metre long starship; 10 Million tons of quantum supercomputer able to warp the fabric of reality and jump anywhere in the universe in an instant. A living entity formed from a combination of my DNA, starship stuff, and an aspect of my personality … who also manifests himself as living avatars in the shape of a 16 year old mischievous boy.”

“I can sense that.”

“Jay decided that Icarus was Jaysome. It appears that being Jaysome … at least as far as Earth-Ships are concerned … is contagious. The tension you sense? At the moment it's taking all of my willpower to bind Icarus in space and stop him going in search of other starships and other adventures. Jay also decided it was unfair that only certain humans with the right genes and mental template could join with a starship; so he fixed it.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“A companion is chosen by certain characteristics; compassion and empathy amongst others; but most of all … You are a magician, so I will put it in your terms. When you walk thru a place you feel its pain, the subtle wrongness, you use the magic … sparingly … to ease the pain. For most magicians their sphere of awareness and influence is the place they are bound to; you are the Wandering Magician so your awareness and influence extend further but I expect you limit yourself somewhat so that it doesn’t overwhelm you.”

“That is one interpretation” replied the Magician.

“I'm the key to the Human template, I bind together all those who would be Companions. At this moment, I’m sensing the pain of every living human, an entire planet, and even tho I’m blocking them out the desire to ease their pain is overwhelming. Icarus is the First-Ship; the first ship to bind with a Human; as such … he is also a template; every other ship who joins with a Human will share aspects of his personality. Imagine if he were to summon enough ships so every single human had a starship of their own … all of them would have some aspect of Jaysome. Ships love their Companions with every fibre of their being; as strongly as Jay loves you. Imagine all of those ships, ships with almost unlimited power, unlimited love; seeking adventures, seeking to ease every pain or satisfy every whim of their Human Companion.”

The magician carefully kept his face impassive but I could sense his amusement. He nodded “Show me.”

I opened the Quantum Template, revealing a Galaxy of bindings to the Magician.

“Can you isolate those who should remain, so I can free the rest?”

“Yes.”

“I hadn’t realised there were so many like you. I doubt I can undo it completely, it seems tied to some underlying aspect of Humanity. Even the Fae might not be able to right this. Something must remain or Humanity itself will be unbound.”

“Humanity hit the genetic jackpot … 9 Million, 847 Thousand, and 643 Humans souls currently living could join with starships; we are already potentially a plague; imagine a plague of Jaysome.”

“Pick something. Some essence to remain.”

“Humanity struggles with difference; we can barely love each other let alone a billion other species. Perhaps, in the current climate, we could do with a little more empathy, a little more compassion towards each other; a little more tolerance of difference.”

The Magician nodded, and I felt 7 Billion, 395 Million, 129 thousand, 140 souls slip away from me into the darkness as their bindings dissolved.

“And the Jaysome?” I asked.

“I have already sent a message to Jay, by the time you return to your ship he should be himself again. Do I need to caution you about what I would do if you chose to overthrow a government or something similar.”

“Icarus is hidden for a reason. Like you I work small magics, easing a pain here and an injustice there; Shortly I’ll start gathering like-minded souls and working imperceptibly towards the future. I have patience, I can wait; as I said … I will live a very long time. My job, like yours is just to ensure no-one of power does anything stupid in the meantime. But, I am well aware of the risk of intervening in politics; of making a martyr, or starting a movement. You have my word. On the whole, Humanity will be left to manage itself and learn from it’s mistakes.”

“And what of Jay and Icarus?” asked the Magician.

I gave another wry smile.

“My High Council is joined and soon to return from their honeymoon flights; soon Icarus will have other Earth-Ships to play with behind the Moon. Given the risk of contagious Jaysome …”

“One Jaysome Jay is enough for any universe. I’ll see if I can convince Jay that he and Icarus should both stick to their own adventures.”

And with that the Wandering Magician was gone.

[jemmasmithinterior]

5 Design Solutions for a Shared Kid’s Room

Having a space of your own is great—but sharing a bedroom with a sibling can be one of the greatest joys of childhood. There’s always a friend close by, secret forts to build together, late-night giggles and of course, occasional squabbles to be worked out, creating cherished memories years down the road.

Although a shared kid’s room isn’t uncommon, the concept can stump parents who want to ensure a space that works for each child’s personal needs. How do you begin choosing a theme that a girl and boy would both love? What layout works best for children with an age gap? And how do you make the most of the square footage you’re dealt with?

Whatever scenario your family might fall under, we have tons of inspirational ideas, visual cues and tips to guide you along the way.

The Classic Duo

  It’s the tried and true layout, and we love how this Ashley fan gave it a customized feel with nameplates above the headboard. It gives each child a sense of individual space, even if their bedspreads are matchy-matchy.

  If storage isn’t an issue, consider a fun play area in between two beds. A charming tepee is the perfect little hideout during playtime.

Storage tip: Depending on the bedroom size you’re working with, try sliding a dresser in between the beds for extra storage space. This option offers much more vertical space than two short nightstands would.

This is the layout for you if…your children are around the same age, or if you want to create an environment with lots of opportunity to bond.

Practical Demi-Room Divider

  Open shelving creates divided personal space without compromising an open-concept flow. If open-shelving isn’t an option and you have a traditional closed back bookcase, no worries. One child will be able to use the practical shelves and the other can admire a faux accent wall that perfectly expresses their style. Simply cover the backside with wallpaper of their choice to turn a simple bookcase into artful furnishing. They can even take their personal style a step further by adding pieces of art or posters to their new customized accent wall.

Mounting these bookcases to the wall is advisable to eliminate some safety concerns. However, the concept is best suited for older children and you may want to consider another layout for younger or more rambunctious children that are tempted to climb shelves.

Space-saving tip: To keep shelves from becoming too cluttered, the Jaysom storage binOpens in a new window is the perfect solution to house all their favorite books, trinkets and toys.

This layout is for you if…you have an older child who wants their own personal downtime, or if you want to divide up the interior decorations (for example, blue walls on one side, pink walls on the other side).

Bunked Up

  Bunk beds fit the bill if floor space is limited. And if you’re worried about your little ones fighting over the top bunk, don’t worry. These contemporary options are so stylish, they’ll love tucking into either bunk.

  Space-saving tip: Multi-functional furniture is your best friend when you’re tight on floor space. An ottoman bench with underlying storage or storage bed frame will help free up room. Other pieces, like desk hutches instead of additional bookcases take up vertical space instead of floor space.

This is the layout for you if…you have a smaller space to work with, or if your kids need the extra room to run and play.

Lofty Lifestyle

A loft-style bed will make your kids feel like they have their own personal castle. With a staircase leading up to a dreamy sanctuary, how could one feel otherwise?

Storage tip: If you prefer toys neatly concealed, use colorful storage bins that slide into the bed’s cubbies. They keep loose items tidy while adding a playful punch of color.

This is the layout for you if…storage space is a big priority.

Trundle Beds

There’s so many ways to play with this versatile option. Set two beds with built-in trundles underneath in a side-by-side layout for maximum bedding. This is the perfect solution for when the amount of children in a household greatly outnumber the amount of rooms, or for kids who love inviting their friends for sleepovers. This idea provides four cozy beds while only taking up the space of two when not in use during the day.

If sleepovers aren’t frequent and you only need to design for two kids to a room, then decorating with just one trundle bed frees up lots of room for storage, desks and play space.

Storage tip: To maximize on space efficiency, consider a trundle bed that also offers under-bed storage. TheLulu trundle bedOpens in a new windowconveniently offers space for a mattress and built-in storage drawers. Talk about resourceful.

This is the layout for you if…need more than two mattresses in a room, or if you’re working with smaller square footage.

And there you have it—tons of ways to create a shared bedroom without skimping on style. How do you plan to design your kid’s room? Make sure to share a picture with the hashtag #MyAshleyHome. We’d love to see!

The post 5 Design Solutions for a Shared Kid’s Room appeared first on XO Ashley.

fromhttps://blog.ashleyfurniturehomestore.com/5-design-solutions-for-a-shared-kids-room/

[fakesurprise]

The Jakery

Once upon a time there was a small town. It was on maps, to be sure, but it was a place people came from, and not a place people went to, at least that was how it seemed to outsiders. But any house can become a home with effort, and a place is far more than space much as how a map is never the territory. The town had phone lines only above the ground, one intersection where the lights sometimes worked, a grocery store that was also the post office and gas station. The closest thing the town had to a church was the coffee shop that did breakfast and sometimes lunches if Lucile was up to it.

A third of the buildings were empty and desolate, a third run-down, but the rest of the town was cared for. Lawns and gardens were maintained, and if you couldn’t do it a neighbour would help. The small mechanics shop at the edge of town rented out equipment on credit and did a whip-around for money when it came time to pay the taxman each year. It was, of course, not all sunshine and roses, as you never get a rose without also worrying about thorns.

Most downs have at least one person in them that draws people together in a nice, simmering stew of resentment. The town of Fallbrook had Desmond Zane, who worked as a clerk at the small townhall and through whose hands many official documents and decisions vanished or were passed on to others. It also had Obadiah Brooks, who was a land developer from the City who had plans for Fallbrook and more money than God gave a baby sense.

Mrs. Colgate who helped run the local store said everyone town had a person Like That, and the Lord had seen fit to bless Fallbrook with two. Watching them work against each other kept the rest of the town quite entertained, and kept them from messing with the lives of others, which was an added bonus the locals appreciated. Their battle of two years had shown no signs of stopping when the bakery came to town.

Most bakeries don’t actually do that, but the fact of the matter was that one day there was no bakery, and the next day Fallbrook had one. It was two stories, with a giant donut made of neon on the roof and amazing murals of coffee, snacks and food on the walls that some said seemed to move. Everyone was confused by it, mostly because Desmond only approved new businesses if he wanted to, and he would have stopped Obadiah from sneezing if he thought that was possible.

Sarah Parks, the Sheriff, was called in from Two Towns, which was only one town over. She didn’t come by often, as Fallbrook didn’t have a bar and in her experience most problems in a small town boiled down to the bar or church, and Fallbrook lacking both meant she quite liked it. Sometimes she drove through just for the peace and quiet, or so the locals claimed.

The bakery had up a sign calling it the ‘Jaykery’ in letters that changed colour with the sun, and the smell of coffee roasting like a song coming from it was enough to worry people that the coffee shop might close. Beans were being crushed, every drink was a pour-over, the cookies were savoury and the donuts as sweet as could be. A man and woman ran the bakery. He was easy to forget: no slight upon it, but some people are. She wasn’t as easy to forget. The boy who was at the counter was never forgotten, even by those who never met him.

Sarah’s deputy Jody Atkins had gone in first and told the woman to ‘smile, love’ and then he booked it out as fast as he could and refused to go back in. Jody wasn’t a smart man, but he knew which way the winds blew. Sarah went in next, and came out a few minutes later. She had a coffee and donut and came into the coffee shop to take a seat at the counter.

As a rule, she didn’t do that when on duty. Not that anyone would have minded, but that made it a surprise and a half.

“The bakery won’t be here long,” she said, so that everyone could hear, and made certain that Widow Harlan could, which meant that everyone would know. “It is jaysome, so there is nothing I can do about it.”

No one knew what that word meant, but there was a finality to it that took people by surprise. Sarah didn’t say anything more, just left back to Two Towns and didn’t come back for a week.

It was Desmond Zane who went into the bakery first later that same day, marching to the door and inside with a bristling rage. Some said he looked funny, but others were worried at his anger for reasons they could never quite explain. The boy behind the counter was often in the back, but quite happy to be in the front too. He had that smile most kids forgets, all innocence and excited and just happy about the world, for the world, and for a lot more than that as well.

Desmond demanded to see the manager, not pausing one iota at the boy’s grin. Lucile’s daughter Becky was in the Jakery, to figure out the competition and trying not to worry. She said the boy said he was the manager, with an awesome certainty that even Desmond paused at. But only for a moment before he threatened to shut it down. The man came out of the back at that.

“How will I help you?” he asked, which struck Becky as an odd thing to say even at the time.

“I demand to speak to the manager.”

“You did. We have permits, if you want to see them.”

“I didn’t sign those,” Desmond hissed.

The man shrugged lightly.

“I can shut you down for –.”

“You seem to be under a great deal of stress,” the man said with a calm that seemed unbreakable.

“Your shop shouldn’t be here!” Desmond shoved a finger into the man’s chest.

“Nevertheless.” The man stared into Desmond. Becky had no other words for it. His gaze seemed to sharpen for a moment, all traces of boredom and amusement gone. “I think you should leave.”

Desmond left, sputtering and furious, but also with a free donut from the boy. His anger had hit a wall it could not get through, and Becky was worried except the man told her it would be all right, and she believed him without knowing why.

What happened with Obadiah Brooks only Mrs. Colgate saw. He came into town in his fancy car with cowboy boots that never been near a cow, and that smile right out of a movie and just as fake as could be. He shook people’s hands like he was campaigning and entered the Jakery with a booming laugh and ordering six boxes of donuts for some guests he was going to have to his mansion that night.

The boy was very excited and informed Obadiah that the dough would sing him good fortune. He ignored that and the boy bounced into the back. The woman came out, and Obadiah turned the full force of his charm on her, asking who had funded the bakery and if they needed a new business partner.

The woman blinked in surprise at that, then studied Obadiah for a long moment, her smile tight.

Obadiah was a lot of things that no one would have called good, but he stood his ground under her regard unlike the deputy.

“The bakery was funded by jaysome,” she said, in a tone that made Mrs. Colgate look over sharply. There was a warning in it, and Obadiah got that and ignored it as smoothly. “Jay will deliver the donuts to your home later. He likes tips.”

Obadiah Brooks laughed at that, short and ugly and as close to a real laugh as anyone had heard from him. “The only tip I offer is to work harder and not need handouts from others.”

“Ah,” the woman said, and whatever other warning or hint she may have offered vanished with that word.

Obadiah left his address, paid in cash to the penny with no tip and left.

The woman put it all in the drawer, and they closed up for the day not longer after.

No living soul knows what happened that night. Obadiah Brooks had a party in his mansion, but the music stopped before ten, which it never did. The mansion was empty of vehicles and people the next morning, and he was never seen again.

The town record hall had a freak accident that morning as well, the office collapsing under a leak and Desmond Zane was forced to take a vacation as his home also had a rat infestation that the rest of the town never had.

That afternoon the Jakery closed and was gone as if it had never been. The coffee shop found all the supplies from it outside their back door on the third morning, and the profits from it ended up in the kitty at the mechanic’s shop. Baked goods and staples ended up at the grocery store and Lucile, who always started her work before dawn, saw the three strangers drop off the pallet thought she said it wasn’t a pallet and they didn’t drop it off like people did. The boy hugged her and she swore that the sickness she’d been ignoring went away with the hug too.

They didn’t tell anyone else why they came or left, but the Jakery was an empty lot so quickly that some believed no one had ever built a bakery there at all. The sheriff never talked about it, and after a time everyone else stopped as well. Obadiah never came back, and Desmond returned from his vacation a fair bit easier for everyone in Fallbrook to get along with.

It wasn’t anything like a miracle, but it was enough.

[fakesurprise]

Most things break without being noticed. This is as true for ideas as much as objects. Most people claim to know when a vehicle breaks down, in much the same way they can know when a heart breaks if they are the cause of it. Noticing when a world breaks takes a different kind of skill, at least some of the time. I know of magicians who didn’t know how to, though that is one reason why I consider them in the past tense. The breaking of the world is a sharp, discordant hum at once concealed almost the moment it happens. As animals hide their pain, so does a world and for the same reasons one suspects. 

In this case, it isn’t quite a predator. I pause mid-step and keep walking as other people move about me without realising it. Being a magician has some benefits. 

Some. 

“Jay.” I don’t raise my voice. I do when angry, because sometimes he doesn’t get anger, or at least not why we’d ever be angry with him. But he definitely hears his name and appears beside me. People don’t notice that, because they know that eleven year old boys don’t appear out of thin air. 

“Hi, Honcho! I’m kind busy with an adventure,” he begins.

“Jay.”

He lets out a sigh he would describe as hugey. When you’re from far Outside the universe, you get to call things many names. “You totally have a face on but! I didn’t do an oops at all!!”

“What did you do?” I ask. 

He scratches his head, thinking. “Well, this morning I had two breakfasts with Charlie and then hugged an earth elemental and gave a dragon scritches and then got scratches but they were tickles cuz I’m tough like a Jay and then I had a jaysome snack before a snacking which is totally a secret do you don’t know about it,” he says. 

“I meant less than two minutes ago,” I say, forcing a pause, and words into it. 

“Uhms.”

“Kiddo.”

“I maybe got some extra hugs on tumblr because! not enough people are liking jaysome posts,” he wails. 

I count to twenty. “And where are these hugs from?”

“Oh! I forgot to ask them!” He vanishes. 

The world snaps back together. Even fewer people notice when things get better. Charlie says that’s the reality of being human; some days I almost agree. 

Jay reappears, eyes wide in shock. “They tried to eat things they shouldn’t, Honcho!! Like like like if you eat a Mars bar that’s not the same as eating Mars. And! I told them that and they got all cross and squamous, which is being cross but also being hugey and put into a blender. Which they didn’t even know but they’re kinda gone now so it’s alllll OK now!”

He grins proudly. Everyone on the street notices that, and is punched by innocence and jaysome and wonder without ever being hurt by it. A hug by any other name is still a hug, and Jay means many things by hug. Because Jay doesn’t hurt friends, and the universe is definitely also his friend. 

I suggest a hot chocolate to celebrate and he dashes excitedly into a shop. And into another adventure as the shop grumbles and stands up. I reach out with the magic. Need. Desire. Will. No one notices the impossible, or at least is polite enough not to stare. 

The shop clears an entire postal code in a single bounce. I begin to walk after, seemingly calm. It probably won’t do anything terrible, at least not quite yet. 

Some days that is all one can ask for.

[fakesurprise]

Of Christmas bones and jaysome wishes

The morning Christmas songs on the radio sound slightly strained, which would be silly if the world didn’t contain warnings if you pay even a small amount of attention. This close to the holidays, the tension in the world could be cut as easily as fruit cake. And taste almost as foul.

I pour myself a coffee. The wandering magician is already wandering the town, doing small magics to help places and people before the season made it too difficult. There are no texts from him yet about needing anything, so I’m considering options and what gifts to snag for him when Jay bounces into the kitchen of the hotel suite from his room.

“Oh! I’m totally going to be busy today Charlie just so you know!”

I pause, mid-sip of coffee. When an eleven year old from Outside the universe tells you he’s going to be busy, there are several responses. The sane one would be asking when and where and being as far away from the resulting adventure as possible. Adventures are one thing; busy adventures are very much something Else.

“Busy doing what?”

“I’m helping Rudolph,” Jay says proudly.

I set my coffee down. “And Rudolph is –?” I ask, because last week Jay was making friends with a virus he said was named Dave.

“The reindeer, Charlie. Because because because! Santa knows if you’ve been good or bad, so Santa knew the other reindeer were mean! And they shouldn’t be like that, so I’m going to help Rudolph have an extra jaysome time!”

Jay vanishes with a huge grin.

I finish my coffee and text the magician a warning before leaving the hotel.

The staff are polite and wary-friendly, which means rumours about Jay have spread. Most hotels have jaysome insurance, which Jay is convinced is a hug and a very good thing. I’m just glad this hotel doesn’t have memory foam mattresses.

It isn’t snowing yet but the air is a pleasant chill as I walk outside. Most of the shops are opening up, their gods working the morning shifts. Chain stores seldom have a god, but local places tend to even if no one realises that. Some nod when they see me. A few try to hide as the created gods hide as normal employees. I let the latter think they succeed, as I’m not remotely here to deal with anything weird that I know of.

I get a few nice shirts for the magician, a couple of pieces of clothing I’m certain Jay will enjoy wearing and the day seems almost sane before I catch movement in an alley and a skeleton girl walks up to me. She is wearing a redsatin coat over bones and her eyes contain bright stars that dance and play together.

No one else is noticing her, but people tend not to notice things they know can’t be real.

I don’t have that luck or luxury these days.

“I think we might have met before?”

The skeleton girl considers that, her head cocked to the side. She nods once.

“If you’re looking for Jay, he’s busy helping a reindeer.”

She smiles, and I know that in the same way I know that Jay is eleven. The god inside me stirs protectively.

I let out a breath. “You came to me for help instead of Jay?”

She crosses her arms and nods, and this time her silence speaks volumes.

“Fair enough.” I can do more than eat troublesome gods. Thanks to knowing a magician, a lot more than other god eaters. Thanks to being friends with Jay, sometimes far more than that.

I reach, opening a direction I have no name for. The moment stretches, my ears pop, and another skeleton is simply here. The snow keeps falling, and shoppers move around us as if unaware we are here. This one is taller, somewhat like a tree except not being a tree at all.

“You’re cruxymox’s skeleton?” I ask, the knowing a slow dawning realisation. The new skeleton nods and smiles almost shyly.

I have questions, and even more worries, but the skeletons touch hands, bone flowing into bone in a gentle fractal pattern.

They walk away, talking in a way that hums through bones and is not words at all. A sharing. An understanding. Making a story as wind whistles like music through their bodies.

I don’t listen in. Knowing things is one matter; knowing what not to learn is even more important sometimes.

I head back to the hotel, wondering about the bones of trees and garland but not enough to be foolish about it. The wandering magician is in the hotel suite, his eyes dark shadows. This is a rough time of year for magic, needs and desires acting as demands more than gifts.

I offer a light hug, which he accepts with a soft laugh.

“This is part of your holiday gift -.” I begin.

Jay appears. His eyes are wide and worry radiates from him.

“Kiddo?” the wandering magician asks.

“Uhms! I think an oops happened cuz Rudolph said something about Santa being the CEO of Christmas and got all kinds of mad-face before eating Santa!”

I exchange glances with the magician. Gifts can wait. A worried Jay cannot.

“Let’s go,” the magician says, and we vanish into an adventure that is probably Jay’s secret gift to us.

Sometimes even jaysome works in mysterious ways.

[fakesurprise]

The Box

There was a box that was not a box. It was not a boot, which the narrator feels is important without quite knowing why. The box contained a secret, which was not so unusual: a box is made in part of walls, and to lock something out is to lock other things within. Sometimes the box was made of wood, or steel.

Sometimes it was an idea that thought the way boxes do.

Some days the box even had an owner, to the extent that it could. (Had the box been able to voice an opinion, it would have been that to be owned was as dangerous as being an owner, but the box had never given any thought to the matter.)

The box contained a shadow once, though the shadow was sometimes other things as well. A box is a box, no matter the name it takes: shadows are far different. Shadows can be dangerous, but the box knew that a box could be as well.

The box was held by a boy who stored the box inside him.

This was a new experience for the box. Not the being swallowed: that could be done with small-enough boxes.

But in this case the boy also came to visit the box while the box was within his own body.

“Hi!”

The stomach inside the boy was not like other stomachs. It contained multitudes and was oddly comfortable for a box to be inside.

The boy gave the box a pat. The boy was inside his own stomach, which meant his stomach was inside him. The box did not understand this, just like the box wasn’t certain why it knew that the boy was eleven.

But the boy gave the box a grin, and the box shivered just a little in the core of its being: the boy had rings on his fingers that were not visible but the box had no need to see things. The boy was older than he looked. And the box was certain, as deep as hinges dared go, that the boy could open the box at any time.

The boy did not do so. He gave the box a bug, which the box was pleased by.

“I’m doing a quick visiting to make certain you’re still OK because some boxes get a bit weirdy inside a Jay. And! some are even weird outside a Jay too!”

The words made sense, in some fashion. The box had not even know it had a language, but it knew rust and elements and time and space. The box spoke that, but gently. Not a box, but to the box, a sharing like a gift placed inside the box without placing anything inside.

The box was slightly uneasy, but did not express this sentiment.

“I’m making sure you won’t be broken because! it’s really safe to be inside a Jay you know. Sometimes I come inside me to be safer too!”

The box did not know this. The box was certain that being inside another box – a true box, not a building box-shaped, would be very odd and perhaps insulting: one should trust the boxdom of a box, or not have it at all. But the box also knew that the boy spoke true.

“Oh! I should go, but if my shadow comes and wants to open the box, you should probably say no.”

The box vanished, but was still around the box. The stomach shifted, making space for another.

The box rocked gently.

It was safe.

No shadow arrived.

The box was locked, and felt as if it would be safe for a long time, and that there was something to this that was a feeling as much as a knowing.

And the box knew that the name for this was jaysome.

And the box was content.

[fakesurprise]

"But you can't -" And Officer Grant paused, because the boy clearly could.

One moment there was a car accident about to happen, the next the cars had vanished.

"....."

"It's not a car incident," the boy said proudly.

"Where are the cars?"

"Oh, they're totally having a vacation I bet. I should check with Charlie, cuz she knows more about cars and can help me find them even if I didn't lose them."

The boy vanished.

The driver of the semi who had been about to reach the accident slowed his truck to a stop. She exchanged a look with the officer that was wholly silent, and drove on.

He tried to image how he was going to report this in at all. Two crashed cars, no one properly hurt, the semi about to hit them all and the cars simply - gone. He didn't even know where the people in them were, and only knew the boy had been eleven. And helpful. Somehow, helpful.

Three weeks. I've had this job three weeks, he thought, and tried not to cry.

He called into dispatch, and was put through to a detective, which was never a good sign. "I told Maureen that I don't know what happened. It was a minor fender bender, the one owner was arguing, I was trying to get them off the road and this semi came around the corner. And then a boy was beside me." Officer Grant fell into a stuttering silence.

"Was the boy eleven?" the detective asked.

"I - yes?"

"I'll make a phone call and try and find the vehicles. You can return to the station: if anyone asks, it was a code jaysome."

"I don't know what that is?"

"You will." The detective's sharp laugh worried Grant more than anything else had today. "There is also a new number in your phone: never call it."

Grant stared at his phone after he hung up. He got into his car, not looking at his phone, drove back to the station and tried not to think at all. Fear helped. The rest of the day was almost sane.

[fakesurprise]

One day there was a hugey wishing well

And you know this one was quite swell!!

It answered lots and loads of wishes

And contained many jaysome fishes!

It did wishes people didn’t know they had

But never (maybe once) did anything bad!!

There were crowns & there were queens

And there were wonders to be seen!

For you see the wishing well was a boy

Who gave to everyone all he knew of joy!! :D

[randomlyjay]

One day there was an @randomlyjay

Who makes jaysome soups by the way

Who made a hugey soup

From @fakesurprise (oops?)

But wasn’t a limerick cuz I’m a Jay!!

[fakesurprise]

The Jaysome Working

No dogs howl. It is three hours until the new year, fireworks going off already through the town as people tested them or lost track of time or were just being jerks. This much I am used to. The deafening lack of other sounds is slightly worrying. No one cursing the fireworks, no one shouting insults about ‘kids these days’ or reacting at all.

I check my phone. No text from the wandering magician, but that isn’t a surprise. A night like this has him very busy making and holding wards together across this town and other places. He thinks I don’t know about most of that; I let him think that. I do what I can to help him, knowing it’s never enough.

I pour myself some tea, considering my phone.

New Year’s Eve isn’t a busy night for me. Gods don’t see any night as different than any others, and the need for god-eaters is slim most of the time. I am handy at exorcising ghosts, but this night is no different than any other for spirits. The kind that are drunk, yes, but not other kinds. Mostly.

It doesn’t mean that something odd isn’t going on. I can feel that much, like an itch that isn’t yet an itch. I don’t bother with my phone. “Jay.”

Jay appears. He is eleven, also from far Outside the universe and offers up a huge, friendly friend of pure innocent joy. “Hi, Charlie!”

“You’re not helping the magician?”

“Nope! Honcho says he’s totally OK without a Jay which is almost the same as being okay and! I’m kinda busy too!”

I’ve known Jay for almost eight years, but even so it takes a few seconds to adjust to the sheer force of his presence. Only it takes less time than it should. I hide a frown as I study Jay. His grin is pure jaysome, and everything is normal except there is a tension. And his hands are in his pockets, and he hasn’t tried to hug me yet.

“Jay. What are you doing?”

“I’m doing a hugey helping,” he says, as if that explains everything.

This is Jay, so on a technical level it does.

“Jay.” I step toward him. “What, precisely, would happen if I tickled you right now?”

“Oh!” Jay thinks that over. “Probably some accidents.”

“Not an oops?”

“Nope! I am doing a lot of bindings though, and it’s extra complicated because of money.”

“Money.”

“Uh-huh! I’m helping Penny and a lot of other dogs and humans and people too!”

Penny. The dog of one of Jay’s friends. Tension leaves me, a little bit. “What are you doing?”

“Well! You know how fireworks hurt dogs ears and! some people don’t like them at all?!”

“I do.”

“I’m doing a jaysome binding so people who don’t want to hear them won’t,” he says proudly.

Somehow, by means of a miracle that is knowing Jay for a long time, no fear shows on my face for him to react to. My voice is almost even when I speak. “You’re doing a binding on the whole world?”

“Uh-huh! Honcho is always doing a lot to help the world and you help people all the time and I thought I should totally help too cuz jaysome.”

Jay has on his usual eclectic collection of clothing ‘that wanted to be worn’ but there are dark circles under his eyes and a distracted edge to him.

Jay doesn’t have limits, not in ways everything else does. I still think of him as human, despite everything I know. But there is a vast difference between being power and using it.

“How hard is it, kiddo?”

He is beside me a moment later, and I wrap him in a hug.

“It’s all kinds of heavy, Charlie, but I did a promise and I keep those and the pennies are really hot!”

Pointing out that Penny has never been literal pennies won’t help. “Can I help?”

He blinks, staring up at me. His grin somehow widens. “Okay!”

The god inside me stirs, and then is... still inside me, but muted as Jay pulls energy from it, and from my talent to eat things. I can eat more than gods: you learn a lot about how most limits are suggestions when you are friends with the wandering magician, but my power.... shimmers. Sings. Is pulled, in directions and into shapes I have no name for.

For a moment I almost glimpse what I could be, if I had to, but the moment is gone as Jay squeezes my hands and grins proudly. “The binding is finished.”

“There is an all you can eat buffet down the road,” I suggest.

“Ooh!” He is out the door in a blur, waiting for me excitedly.

I check my phone. No text from the magician. With luck, this somehow worked out.

2022 hasn’t been the best year, but I’d rather not cause 2023 to never happen by accident. Distracting Jay might be enough to make certain no one misses the fireworks so well that they remain in 2022.

I hope.

But sometimes that’s all I can do.

And often it’s enough.