#she wasn’t particularly pro active about it though she just got really angry. she couldn’t really hurt you. or she didn’t. not sure which

[loveofastarvingdog]

last night i had a dream about the two guys from brokeback mountain, magical portals that would switch you between two places/periods in time and could still affect you when you weren’t around them, a girl who used to be a prodigy and now struggles to even get c’s, and a different girl who used to be a friend to one of the brokeback guys before she started growing violent and angry from the effects of the portals. it was a wild dream

[morfinwen]

OC Name: Ian, Lauren, Q, Niner, and Ash.

Wow, this one's old! But answered at last.

Ian

Something really awesome he can do: His coworkers are certainly amazed by his ability to remain in Lauren’s presence when she’s in a temper, let alone how he can talk to her without getting murdered, or even -- sometimes -- calm her down.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: Squirrels. Growing up, he named all the ones he saw in his backyard, and would watch them for hours. He’d love to do the same now, but as an adult with bills he doesn’t have the time. He does have a bird feeder out in his yard specifically for the squirrels.

A secret he’s hiding: No secrets -- Ian wouldn’t be able to keep one if he had it.

Something he truly fears: Something bad happening to his parents.

A fond memory of his: The first time his parents drove to visit his mom’s parents on the Tennessee/Kentucky border. It’s a cozy memory of scenery passing in a blur, what seemed like a continuous stream of snacks and juice boxes, switching between CDs of his and his parents’ favorite music, and listening to his mom and dad tease and flirt with each other (subtle enough to fly over the head of a seven-year-old who still thought kissing was icky).

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The sanctuary of the church where he grew up. It’s where he was baptized, and where he played guitar during some very moving services.

A dream or ambition for the future: Perform on live TV.

An angsty fact about him: He and Lauren had a falling out in their second year of college. I hesitate to say it was over Protestantism and Catholicism; it was, at least to some degree, but it was also about worldview, the nature of God, the role of tradition and conscience, and perhaps most of all it was about what we owe to people we disagree with. They’d argued about religion before, but it wasn’t until then that they actually understood enough to do more than rebut “Pastor Andrews says” with “Father Vernon says”, and for it to matter enough to them to blow up as much as it did. It took months for them to reconcile, partially because of stubbornness and uncertainty of how to fix things, but also because schoolwork and practice meant they didn’t have the time to figure it all out.

A domestic fact about him: Ian almost always keeps most, if not all, of his windows open. Even when it’s cold (for Tennessee) or raining. It can make things cold, and the smell isn’t always great, but he insists it’s too stuffy otherwise. Lauren is pretty sure it’s a psychosomatic thing.

A random other fact: He once had a dream where he was a dog, Lauren was a cat, and they escaped from their owners to travel the world together. It would’ve made a good movie.

Lauren

Something really awesome she can do: Play Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu (Op. 66) completely from memory.

A person, creature, or thing she adores: Not sure if “adore” is quite the right word, but one of the most important people to Lauren, outside of Ian and her immediate family, is Father Vernon from her family’s parish. He’s known her family since before she was born, listened to their confessions, counseled her parents, baptized her and her siblings. Every weekend she drives the couple hours it takes to her hometown so she can attend Mass at Father Vernon’s church.

A secret she’s hiding: She’s written songs … about fictional characters. She even composed a suite of music for a pair of fictional characters’ wedding.

Something she truly fears: Permanent damage to her hands. Her music teacher once mentioned a friend of hers who couldn’t play the piano anymore after something heavy fell on his hands. If Lauren was the type of person to have nightmares based on things she heard, that certainly would have given her nightmares.

A fond memory of hers: Her grandparents would have a picnic sometime in June, every year. It wasn’t always enjoyable, between the long car drive there with all of her siblings jammed into a cramped place, and the potential for bugs, sunburn, and bad weather, but the park was beautiful, there were so many other kids around that there was always someone to play with even if everyone else had annoyed you, and when it got to be evening they would all gather around, play music, and sing.

A place or item which gives her strong feelings: Mrs. G’s music classroom at the elementary school. In addition to band during school weeks, it was also where Lauren had her piano lessons with Mrs. G on the weekends.

A dream or ambition for the future: She doesn’t think winning a Grammy award is out of the question someday.

An angsty fact about her: From first grade until she graduated college, she believed herself to be her parents’ least favorite child. Even now, it’s not so much that she doesn’t believe it as she doesn’t think it’s worth it to spend time and energy thinking about it.

A domestic fact about her: In order to have room for a keyboard in her apartment, she gave up on having a dining table, so she eats all over the place. She’s good about taking bowls and plates back to the kitchen, but there’s constantly cups and silverware lying around the living areas.

A random other fact: She hates her middle name. “Eleanor” sounds like an old lady name, not least because she’s named after one of her mother’s great-aunts, who is quite old, and has the kind of personality that suggests she was born gray-haired, wrinkled, and talking about “in the old days”.

Q

Something really awesome he can do: He is trained in the use of multiple types of swords. It was a quid pro quo with his aunt and uncle: Q spoke to his politically-connected buddy from boarding school and got the ball rolling on an exemption from some nasty tariffs, they arranged for sword fighting lessons for a year. He never participated in any tournaments or anything (too much publicity), but he can say without undue pride that he got to be pretty good.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: “Adore” doesn’t really describe how Q feels about anything.

A secret he’s hiding: He’s not exactly hiding it, but he isn’t open about precisely how rich and powerful his aunt and uncle are, or how many famous (or in the case of some of his cousin’s criminal friends, infamous) people he knows through them.

Something he truly fears: Just the idea of being buried alive freaks him out.

A fond memory of his: He’s got some good memories of some summer holidays during his time at boarding school. Occasionally Q got invited to tag along with someone, a friend of his cousin or a fellow classmate, on their vacation to some super rich resort in some beautiful, exotic location. He’d still hear from his aunt and uncle regularly, and he always had to be well-behaved, but it was less than when he was at school -- at his age, just hanging out with rich and influential people counted as “networking” to his aunt and uncle, so they’d call in to check on him regularly but otherwise left him alone, and in a less formal setting than school “well-behaved” was an easier standard to meet. While parts of those summers were genuinely enjoyable for him, years of living hand to mouth a hairsbreadth away from sleeping on a street corner has added a much rosier shine to those days sleeping in five-star hotels and eating haute cuisine.

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The family pile. It was where his dad spent his summers, so spending his own summers there growing up was one of the few times he felt connected to his parents. He’s also spent a significant number of holidays and family parties there, so it’s also associated with the exacting standards of his aunt and uncle and the strain of Keeping Up Appearances.

A dream or ambition for the future: He likes to imagine his aunt and uncle getting taken down a peg (or two, if he's particularly angry with them; sometimes he dares indulge the thought of three), though he struggles to imagine a scenario where that happens without notable repercussions.

An angsty fact about him: Virtually all of his t-shirts are band t-shirts, including bands he doesn’t listen to, bands he’s never heard of, foreign bands, fictional bands, and bands with potentially offensive names or symbols (though he usually only wears those at home or when he can be pretty sure he can keep his jacket closed all day). During his time in LA, one of his roommates asked if he wore them because, as an orphan who grew up in boarding schools, it was the closest he got to feeling like he belonged to something. The precise wording was kinder than that, but it still kickstarted a realization that rocked Q’s world for a couple days.

A domestic fact about him: He’s kind of weird about household chores in general. Despite his best efforts not to be as dismissive as his aunt and uncle, he still grew up in an atmosphere of "The Help does that," and it led to a steep learning curve when he moved out after graduation. He’s on top of dishes now and has a good handle on laundry, but sweeping and vacuuming require active thought, he barely registers that mopping is an actual thing, and unless "swipe hand over surface then brush hand off on pants" counts, he has never dusted.

A random other fact: Thanks to growing up outside the occult community, Q is unaware of the various taboos and 'bad words' within the community, and more than once says something offensive. Fortunately, this never creates any real issues for him, as everyone he does it to or in front of is aware he's not doing it maliciously. In fact, to most of them it's more like a small child 'swearing' because they misunderstood or mispronounced something, or saying something offensive out of innocent ignorance. Q is not best pleased when he finds out: being unintentionally offensive is one thing, being unintentionally adorable is worse.

Niner

Something really awesome she can do: She’s very good at mental math -- basic arithmetic, conversion from metric to imperial or types of currency, multiplying large numbers. Most people are more impressed with this ability than Niner herself is: she’s never had to work at it, and for most of her life it hasn’t been terribly relevant.

A person, creature, or thing she adores: Niner has a lot of younger siblings. She adores them all. Around them, she will drop the pretense of caring about nothing, and show full enthusiasm for anything they like.

A secret she’s hiding: She hasn't told anyone about the abusive relationship in her past.

Something she truly fears: For werecats, the threat of getting caught by animal control and getting euthanized or ending up as somebody’s housecat is about as probable as your average person getting struck by lightning, but few werecats are completely immune to fearing it. Niner in particular finds it horrifying.

A fond memory of hers: Her last year hanging with her parents and immediate siblings was a pretty good one. Since their kids were all on the verge of striking out on their own, her parents allowed them more independence than they ever had before, but there was still the safety net and companionship of family. They also made a point of visiting some places that they’d talked about visiting for years but hadn’t gotten to. It was basically a year-long vacation, and made Niner more aware of her independent spirit.

A place or item which gives her strong feelings: An alley behind a bar in Atlanta, Georgia. It’s where her relationship with Marrow ended. It’s also where one of her recurring nightmares, on the rare occasions she has one, takes place.

A dream or ambition for the future: Werecats travel a lot, but they tend to remain in the same country, and after their roaming days as young adults, they tend to remain in the same geographic area. Niner’s roaming days might be over, but she wants to visit another country. It won’t be easy, considering that she lacks money, a birth certificate, and a general idea of what other countries there are out there, but Niner can be dedicated when she really wants something.

An angsty fact about her: Tied in with her desire for independence is a belief that she needs to rely solely on herself, that other people can’t be trusted or that asking them to bear even part of one of her problems is infringing on them.

A domestic fact about her: Niner’s favorite place to sleep is Q’s windowsill. It gets a good amount of sunlight, and the size is just perfect.

A random other fact: She once worked as a cashier. It was just for a single shift, she got paid under the table, and frankly she was terrible at it, but the hot dog stand guy was desperate, and Niner really needed the money.

Ash

Something really awesome he can do: Ash can make a vegetarian version of just about anything. He considers it a gift. To others in the household (particularly Connie) … it’s amazing, but not in a good way.

A person, creature, or thing he adores: A crocheted frog that ‘lives’ on a shelf in the kitchen. It was a gift to his great-aunt who owned the house before him. It’s not what most people would consider cute, it’s probably older than he is so it’s got some noticeable wear and tear to it, but to little bitty Ash it was a benevolent spirit watching over the kitchen, smiling kindly to everyone who entered, and never telling on the small boy sneaking cookies before dinner.

A secret he’s hiding: It’s not quite a secret, more a deeply personal family matter that Ash is aware of but doesn’t share with anyone. His aunt Lily isn’t technically his aunt. She’s a half-dryad who, because of complications tied to her conception and birth, is bound to a tree on his grandmother’s property and traveling too far from it is painful for her. Obviously this isn’t something they can share with normal people, but it’s a sensitive enough situation that no one outside of Ash, his mother, grandmother, and aunts knows the details.

Something they truly fear: Ash is a naturally patient person, but he is not inherently non-confrontational or easy-going. And he is not the kind of person to just stand by when something makes him angry. He’s not exactly scared of losing his temper and doing something he regrets, but he is concerned about someday ending up on a slippery slope and reaching a point where he wouldn’t regret it.

A fond memory of his: He and Danae took a lot of walks in the country when they were in high school, usually by themselves, but sometimes with one of his aunts or one of her siblings. One especially beautiful summer evening, they sat by a lake for a couple hours and talked about their dreams for the future -- not just what they were likely to do, but what they really wanted to do with their lives.

A place or item which gives him strong feelings: The abovementioned lake. He spent a lot of time there growing up, and there’s good and bad memories tied to it. Mostly good.

A dream or ambition for the future: He has a lot of plans for the house. He’s not sure yet whether he wants to try to turn it into a school for enchanting, or turn it back into a bed-and-breakfast type place for occult people. The former is more appealing to him personally, but the latter works better considering that there’s already a bunch of different occult types staying there.

An angsty fact about him: Ash is the least angsty person in the household, honestly. He’s very grateful for that.

A domestic fact about him: He hates dust. Dishes can stack up for a meal or two, laundry gets done mainly because otherwise he’d have no clothes, mopping only happens if the floor is sticky, the fridge is cleaned out on a schedule, but dusting happens every day.

A random other fact: He’s watched several YouTube videos trying to learn how to yodel. It’s gotten put on the back burner, now that there’s people in the house who could hear him no matter how tightly he shuts the door or how quietly he tries to do it, but he still hopes to learn how someday.

Thanks for asking!

[chemicalmagecraft]

Taiyuu OCT Bonus Round 2

@taiyuu-oct

Yukino didn't know much about Zuruko, other than the fact that she hated that girl. How could she, when she couldn't even remember talking to her? All she had was one memory of her, the pink-haired sheep girl telling her to go away. The rest of the information she had on her was from reminders made from cold letters appearing on her clothes seemingly at random. Yukino didn't know exactly how the girl's Quirk worked, aside from the fact that it erased memories and she apparently made no effort to control it or even turn it off, but to be honest that was all Yukino really needed to know.

Zuruko was dangerous, in Yukino's opinion. Her Quirk wasn't the most obviously dangerous, not next to things like 'generating vast amounts of fire,' 'creating turpentine,' or 'the ability to freeze anything, including the human body, in a matter of seconds,' but her attitude? From what Yukino could gather, Zuruko just didn't care at all what happened to other people from her not controlling her Quirk. Which, when that's something like memory erasure? Even if people haven't been hurt from it (that Yukino knew of; she highly doubted Zuruko had no blood on her hands at all keeping her Quirk on all the time like that), it still made Yukino's blood boil that she just didn't seem to care how potentially disturbing having large chunks of your memory just not present could be. As a fellow Emitter? Zuruko disgusted Yukino.

The last straw was when Yukino found herself roaring, covered in frost, in the middle of the dorm common rooms with no memory of how she got in that state. She could guess, of course, but having to make an educated guess about something like her own Dragon Rage made Yukino feel... sick. Violated, honestly. So she was a little relieved when, a few days later, Buck-sensei announced mandatory student-teacher conferences. She was already thinking about talking to Wolfie-sensei about Zuruko, of course, but that was the push she needed. As soon as Buck-sensei was done with his announcement, she hurried back to her room and picked up the notebook she'd prepared with all her complaints (and maybe some dirt) on Zuruko. She also picked up her scratching block while she was at it. She sighed at how worn it was. She'd need to get a new one soon, she really did a number on it. Especially over the past few days...

x x x

Yukino leaned back casually in her chair, scratching at her scratching block a little. "So, did you wanna talk about anything in particular or do I start?"

Wolfie-sensei stared at her scratching block. "What's with the block?"

Yukino shrugged. "Scratching block. Made for people with claw mutations and stuff like that. It's kinda like a scratching post, except portable and a little more dignified. It keeps claws healthy, too. It cool if I keep it out?"

He nodded, writing something down on a notepad. "Looks a little worn, though."

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to get a new one soon. It's also a little... cathartic, I guess, when I'm stressed. Probably some dragon instinct or something. Ssso I kinda tend to scratch at it a lot when something bad is going on. Still, better a block that's made to be scratched up than someone's face or a couch, right?"

"That makes sense. Please talk to me or another teacher about getting a new one later." He wrote on his notepad again.

Yukino nodded. "'Course." She held up the block, studying its surface. "And as for why it looks so scratched up, I've been kinda upset the past few days. Been wanting to bring it up with you, actually, so this was pretty convenient. Did you know that sometimes residual mutations from a parent or grandparent's Quirk can include some form of their Quirk's drawback? Usually it's weakened, but it can still cause some annoyance..."

"What are you getting at?" her teacher asked.

Yukino remembered the first time it happened. It was so long ago, only a year after she got her Quirk. One moment one of her classmates was telling her how weird her mom looked despite her protests, the next she was being restrained by her teacher, her throat hoarse from screaming and her hands cold and sore from the frost-covered claw marks on the ground. Her mother explained to her later, how her emotions could rage out of control if she was scared, angry, or hurt enough. And unfortunately Yukino ended up having to change schools after that, even though she hadn't hurt anyone...

"We call it Dragon Rage," Yukino said. "Think of it like... whenever my flight or fight response hits, it tends to hit hard. Typically 'fight,' too."

He wrote that down, brow furrowed. "Should I be concerned?"

Yukino shook her head. "I've been dealing with it almost as long as my actual Quirk, and believe it or not I'm normally pretty responsible with stuff like that. As far as I know I've only had a Dragon Rage attack twice in the past year, and only one of those was really bad. I'm kinda proud of how well I'm doing with it." Yukino smiled at Wolfie-sensei, but then put her block on the table and steepled her fingers together, letting a colder expression take over her face. "So you can imagine how uncomfortable I might have felt suddenly waking up from a particularly bad Dragon Rage with no memory of how I even got to that point, right?"

Wolfie-sensei raised an eyebrow. "Is that normal?"

She shrugged. "If it's bad enough it's possible that I could have a few holes in my memory, but I will always remember what got me riled up in the first place. Sometimes even more vividly than normal, if it's particularly bad. So how, then, do you think that I lost those memories?"

"That's rhetorical, isn't it?"

"Zuruko Kayaki." Yukino pulled out her notebook, throwing it on the table. "Supposedly she has zero control over her Quirk, which in my opinion is a really bad thing even if it's not some form of memory erasure. I've managed to document a few bits of evidence that make me... doubtful of that fact, though. Or at least, doubtful that her Quirk can't be controlled, even if she really can't control it. She could just not be putting the right effort in or has some sort of mental block she has to work through, which is still on her by the way. Probably part of why I got so angry in the first place. To be honest it's starting to get really disturbing having my memories just have random holes like that, so even if I'm wrong I'd like you to do something about her."

Wolfie-sensei picked up the notebook, flipping through a few pages. His brow furrowed. "We've been dealing with Zuruko-chan already, but this is a serious accusation. Do you mind if I take this?"

She gave him a thumbs-up. "Go ahead, I figured you might."

"If you don't mind me asking, though, why are you so annoyed at Zuruko-chan?" he asked.

Yukino rested her head on her hands. "I mean, probably the most obvious bit? I reserve the right to be very annoyed with anyone who does anything to my mind without my explicit, informed consent. Don't get me wrong, I don't categorically hate people with mind-affecting Quirks or anything, but you can get why I wouldn't be too appreciative of stuff like that happening to me without my permission, right?"

Wolfie-sensei sighed and nodded. "That's fair."

"Good, good," Yukino smiled at him. Or perhaps it might have been a little more accurate to say she bared her teeth at him. "Now I get that she says she can't control it or anything, but that doesn't mean she can't take responsibility for it either, which from what I've been able to see she hasn't done either. And that one's totally on her by this point, in my opinion."

"What's the difference?"

"They make three-fingered gloves for people whose Quirks activate automatically when they put all five fingers on an object. People whose Quirks activate automatically through any skin contact usually wear gloves and long sleeves. Neki-chan has that one Quirk-nullifying thing. Worst comes to worst, I've heard of support companies who make what are basically inverted hazmat suits for people with severely biohazardous, radioactive, or whatever Quirks," Yukino listed.

She picked up her block and started fidgeting with it. "Not that Zuruko would need something as heavy-duty as that, probably. There's gotta be a way easier way to stop her Quirk's effects. I know, for one, that my grandfather's mind control can be stopped by something as simple as a thin sheet of tin foil on his horns. No Quirk is invincible, after all. Mine has limitations, yours does, and there is no way in hell Zuruko's Quirk or its effects can't be stopped in any way. Even still, the only gaps in my memory are in common areas." Yukino scratched at her block a little too forcefully, then shook out her hand because the motion hurt her fingertips a little. Her claws weren't Quirk-reinforced, so scratching something too hard really hurt. "If it was only if I tried to go in Zuruko's room that my memories were erased I maybe wouldn't have quite as much of a leg to stand on, but why should I have to avoid common areas if I don't want to randomly be affected by someone else's Quirk?"

"I'll look into that, but for now let's move on."

Yukino nodded, her posture relaxing again. "Long as you understand where I'm coming from. What next?"

"Why are you here at Taiyuu?" he asked.

Yukino chuckled. "If that isn't a question I've been asking myself for the past few days... Do you want Taiyuu specifically or why I wanna be a hero in general? Because the answer's different depending on which one you want."

"Let's hear both, if you don't mind."

"First, hero in general. It was... a combination of factors. For one, I have two heroes in my family already. I mean, Ryuji only recently graduated from UA, but Gong'gong-my grandfather-has been one for over half a century. But that was just some of the inspiration. I think... a couple weeks after I got my Quirk, I happened to see a pro with an ice Quirk fighting a villain, which I thought was super cool." Yukino raised a hand, cutting Wolfie-sensei off as he opened his mouth to say something. "Buuut those are just petty reasons that I'll admit probably shouldn't be my entire reason. To be honest if those were my only reason, it's possible I could've ended up training to take over the family restaurant instead." Yukino took a deep breath. "I think... my reasons for being a hero shifted after my... g-grandmother died." Yukino bit her lip and rubbed her eyes. This wasn't going to be easy to talk about, but she probably should.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, if you don't want to," Wolfie-sensei assured her. "I think I can get the picture."

She took another deep breath, nodding. "Th-thanks. I think... if a little girl walked up to me and thanked me for saving her grandmother, that'd be just as much of a victory to me as getting in the top ten."

Wolfie-sensei nodded. "Thank you for telling me that."

Yukino nodded. "You're welcome, I guess. As for why I went to Taiyuu... To be honest I just didn't feel like going to UA. I mean, this did seem pretty nice... from the entrance exam, anyway... but..." Yukino sighed, scratching lightly at her block. "I probably could've gotten into UA if I applied myself, but I just didn't feel like going to my brother's school, even though it's supposed to be super good." She gave Wolfie-sensei a wry smile. "How dumb is that?"

"You should never regret going to a school."

Yukino snorted. "You're right, I shouldn't."

"But you are. Why is that?"

Yukino rolled her eyes. "I haven't learned a thing here that I couldn't have just asked my brother about, everything not made of dirt looks like a rush job, oh, and how could I forget how much you've done about the girl with the supposedly uncontrollable mind-erasing Quirk?" she listed.

"We are actually working on Zuruko-chan's issues. We haven't just ignored the problem and hoped it'd go away."

Yukino's expression turned cold, and even though she hadn't used her Quirk the temperature in the room seemed to drop by a degree or two. She crossed her arms. "Oh? So those holes in my memory that only pop up when I see Zuruko are not, in fact, caused by Zuruko's Quirk?" Yukino slammed a hand on the table, using it to push herself up. Her claws left small scratches in the cheap wood. "Thank you for your time, but I should probably go see a doctor about that, then."

Wolfsboon sighed. "Okay, I get it. We'll do something about her, just sit down so we can finish."

Yukino sat. She did her best to make it obvious, though, that she still wasn't happy with Wolfsboon. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that."

"Okay, next question." Wolfsboon looked at his notes, then sighed audibly. "Okay. How, aside from dealing with Zuruko-chan, can we make your experience here better?"

"Do something about the hot water. The heating isn't the best, but I brought a space heater for that just in case. The water, though... I have to wake up fully before leaving my room or I could end up falling back asleep with how the heating is at the moment, that's more or less a drawback of my Quirk, so by the time I get to take a shower there usually isn't much water left, if at all. Cold water is really bad for me, Quirk drawback again. I don't sweat, so I can go longer without taking a shower before I feel gross, but I'd still like to be able to go from bedroom to shower every morning without Quirk drawbacks popping up at some point, y'know? Morning routines are good to keep up."

"I'll see about it, but there's only so much we can do. Next, what plans do you have for the future? Not just hero work, but do you have any backup plans?"

"Ehh, let me think..." Yukino narrowed her eyes and stroked her chin, thinking. "Okay, I should probably put a little more thought into that, but my dad's restaurant isn't going anywhere, so that's something. As for hero work... I will be villain fighting, but I feel like I could probably do well with search and rescue, too. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'd at least do pretty well with fires." She shrugged. "Still, probably should put a little more thought into it. Anything else?"

He shook his head. "Unless you have something else you want to bring up, you're done here. Thank you for your time."

Yukino got up. "Cool, I'm gonna go now. Bye." Yukino lazily waved at him as she walked out the door. "Thanks for taking my concerns seriously," she added half-heartedly.

x x x

Yukino sighed and sat down on her bed. She opened up the contact list on her phone, pressing the call button on one of the first names on the list. She put her phone up to her ear, hearing it ring. "C'mon, pick up you jerk," she muttered.

Click. "Yuki-chan? What's up?"

"Hey, Niichan." Yukino sighed and rubbed her face. "Do you know if it's possible to transfer into UA?"

"I'll... have to look into what you’d need to do for it, but I doubt you can’t." There was silence on the other end, then he spoke again. "Do... do you want to talk about it?"

Yukino bit her lip, trying not to cry. "I... don't know. Maybe later."

"Well, if you change your mind just give me a call. Love you." He ended the call.

Yukino curled up into a ball. "Love you, too..." she sighed.

[sage-nebula]

Thanks for the explanation! I've been a JRPG fan since the 90s and the changes made to the Let's Go games don't sound as though they'd be my thing either. Do you have a review of Gen 8 anywhere on here? I'd be curious to see what you think of Sword and Shield.

I don’t think I ever did a formal review of Sword / Shield because I wasn’t writing up game reviews at the time, but I’d be happy to give an impromptu one here!

Overall Score: 8.5/10

The Pros: 

— Gameplay was a vast improvement from the previous gen. Dynamaxing is a much more fun battle mechanic than a one-time-per-battle use Z-Move; the Wild Area is FANTASTIC, especially with the wild pokémon roaming around; the bike came back without annoying music to accompany it; the post-game Battle Tower provided actual challenge, and so on. I actually had fun playing these games, particularly with so much space to explore and things to find. I’m not someone who says that story is never important in games—I’m far from that person, actually—but gameplay will always be the most important component of a video game because it’s how the audience engages with it. The Alola games were not fun for me to play; the Galar games were, and that was automatically such a relief after a gen that felt like a chore to get through.

— The characters are all fantastic! Aside from postgame characters Shieldbert and Swordward, I didn’t dislike a single character in the games. The rivals were great, the Gym Leaders were memorable and involved for the first time since Gen V, and Sonia has one of my favorite arcs of any Pokémon character ever given how relatable her story was. (Having one of the main characters be someone in her twenties trying to figure out what she’s going to do with her life is almost like Game Freak was trying to speak to the young adult audience who grew up with these games, tbh.) I didn’t like the characters in the Kalos games aside from one, and the Alola games were a massive disappointment, but Galar really came through and shone with all of its characters. The fact that they’ve only managed to get even more spotlight and depth in things like the League Card bios and the post-game Galarian Stars Tournament only makes things even better.

— The music was excellent. While there were a few tracks that weren’t especially memorable (such as the standard trainer battle music), there were many more that were absolute bangers (the Gym Leader battle music, the Battle Tower music composed by Toby Fox himself, Marnie’s Battle Theme, etc). I especially love the music for the northern part of the wild area, with how the bagpipes come into full crescendo. Absolutely spectacular.

— There was so much to explore! One of my primary complaints with the Alola games is that they were so small; only four tiny islands, without being able to explore the sea. Galar made up for that, though, with more towns, a huge wild area, and to cap it all off, extra locations added with DLC that allowed you to fully explore the ocean and many other areas. There were so many little hidden things around and I LOVED discovering everything, ignoring the plot while I did so. That was my jam. 

— Speaking of the DLC, I cannot speak highly enough about Game Freak’s decision to release DLC with new areas / content rather than just releasing a slightly modified third version with different postgame (coughUSUMcough). Yes, the DLC still cost money, but it was half the price that a third game would have been, and honestly the DLC stories adding to the postgame (though you can do them at any time and the levels scale) added to the richness, depth, and overall playtime that the Galar games offered. I really, really can’t express how much I hope that this is the business model Game Freak takes with future releases. Please give us new stories via DLC rather than making us shell out for a slightly modified third version.

— Honestly, this is an unpopular opinion, but I really liked the way the story was handled. I LOVED the model for the Gym Challenge being a regional tournament that you have to be sponsored to enter, how the “gyms” were stadiums full of people, how it’s something that really affected the region and encompassed everything you did, story-wise. I loved, too, how the adults in the game ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING FOR ONCE instead of wanting to rely on literal children to solve their problems for them. Sure, it means we missed some instances of disaster, but honestly, I’ve been cleaning up the PokéWorld’s messes since 1998. I’m tired. I want to just have fun gallivanting off into the wilderness in-between doing a fun Gym Challenge. That’s all I want. So while some didn’t like the fact that the story wasn’t super deep, I liked it, especially since if the Kalos and Alola games taught us everything, it’s that Game Freak fails spectacularly at handling tough topics, to the point I’d really rather they not try at all.

The Cons:

— I’m still disappointed about the Dex cut. I’ve accepted it at this point, we won’t get the full Dex back unless Game Freak somehow gets more time to develop the games, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t find it disappointing. I think all pokémon should be included in the games at least once the main campaign is over, and it’s disappointing that they aren’t.

— I don’t know if it’s a fault of the game or thanks to my internet connection, but I experience severe lag when wifi is turned on in the wild area, which is again disappointing since it was promoted how you could interact freely with other players this way. 

— I MISS MEGA EVOLUTION. My Charizard was bred and trained specifically to mega evolve into X. I really hope we get Mega Evolution back at some point because I’m angry that it’s gone.

— While I was glad to see following pokémon back in the DLC, it really wasn’t implemented well. They can’t keep pace properly at all. Again, I wonder if this is tied to the time constraints that went into development, and if it is, I hope they can smooth it out in the future. 

— I was kind of disappointed in the way Rose ended up being depicted as the game’s Big Bad, because of the role they gave him in the game. In the game, he’s the CEO of a mega corporation that controls all energy throughout the Galar region. Given that we currently live in a world where CEOs of mega corporations who control everything are actively destroying the planet and don’t care that they’re doing it, it fell a bit flat for me for the games to be like, “no, it’s fine he controls everything that everyone’s lives depend on, the real problem is he summoned a legendary pokémon he couldn’t control.” Like, my dislike of Rose is far less about what he does versus what he is, and I feel like Game Freak chickened out of criticizing what actually needed to be criticized.

But yeah, that’s all I’ve got! I really enjoyed Sword and Shield; they gave me some hope for the direction the games might be taking in the future.

[mintchocolateleaves]

Cost of Freedom (29/52)

Summary: In which Kaito learns there’s been a murder, and the investigation into Numabuchi’s death begins. Prison!AU

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“Listen, when I said convince her you're innocent, I didn't mean bring her here.”

Kaito isn't sure how he should be feeling, but vulnerable shouldn't be it. He'd known that Shinichi would have to prove his innocence in some manner, but bringing Kazuha into their hideout...? Whatever reason the ex-convict had to bring her here... Kaito isn't sure it'll be a good enough explanation.

“Kaito-” Shinichi turns, a guilty expression on his face. He practically shrinks from the stare he receives, even though Kaito's lips have turned upwards, into some amicable version of a smile. He hopes Kazuha doesn't read into the tightness around his eyes though, because he doesn't feel calm enough to fully wear a mask.

His safe house... one of the only places he can let his guard down and now–

“You're KID,” Kazuha says, turning her body to look at him more closely. She crosses her arms, leans forward slightly as she stares at him. “Or do ya prefer Kuroba Kaito?”

“Kaito's fine,” he says, because any level of intimacy is bound to make her act more open towards him, “And I'll call you Kazuha, is that alright?”

She stiffens for a second – the intimacy is probably too quick for her to wrap her head around, laughable considering how quickly she'd adapted after finding out about Heiji's involvement. She'd helped them escape seemingly without a second thought – before relaxing her shoulders.

“Sounds good t' me,” Kazuha says, “nice to meet ya Kaito-kun.”

“Now,” Kaito says, dropping his bag onto the floor as he stalks forward, crossing the distance from the entrance to both Kazuha and Shinichi. “I don't mean to be rude but, why are you here?”

Shinichi shrivels away from the question, even though it's not directed towards him. Kaito's first thought is that something has happened – maybe she'd been more reluctant to believe Shinichi than they'd expected – but then he racks his brain to the increased activity of police cars on his way back to the safe house.

“I'm helping Shinichi-kun with his case,” Kazuha says after a moment, turning away and glancing back at the files they've sprawled across the table. Kaito can't read any of the words there, but from the intensity he feels both exuding, they're obviously important. “And it had to be here.”

Kaito rubs at his temples, “you couldn't have gone to a cafe or something? You had to compromise this place?”

The only place he can truly be himself, doesn't have to wear a poker face or mask and... and Shinichi's compromised it because he's incapable of living efficiently as an outlaw?

“The police are on high alert,” Shinichi says, turning to face him properly. His eyes look faraway, glassy, but there's conviction there too. “Seeing as someone died.”

“Of course they're on high alert, I mean we–“ Kaito has to do a double take, feels dizzy on his feet. “Someone what?”

Shinichi doesn't need to say that he's being serious, Kaito knows how to read his expression's at this point. Sharing such a small cell, being confined in the same room for hours a day practically makes you a pro at reading them.

And well... They've gotten this far on trust, Kaito doesn't see a reason not to trust what he's saying.

“Another dead,” Shinichi says, “because of me.”

Not his fault, Kaito thinks, not Shinichi's. And it's not his fault either – they're not guilty. They can't afford to be guilty, they're not responsible for someone else being killed... they're not responsible for the actions of others, so...

“Let me take a look at this,” Kaito says, stepping forward. Maybe he should show some sort of reaction, but a murder? There's no good way to react, so Kaito simply... doesn't. “This is all the information you've got right? We'll see if it coincides with anything I know.”

“Kaito-”

Kaito shakes his head, blinks away any hesitation as he snatches some pages up, settling on the floor when he realises there is a distinct lack of a third chair. And maybe he feels like hiding beneath the table, just to sort everything that's happened in his head, but he forces himself not to.

His father had always said that having a poker face offers some sort of security. Even if it's not a particularly healthy coping mechanism, it is, at least, a way to deal with this issue without letting it consume him.

“We've got work to do,” Kaito says. Then, he pauses. “If Hattori isn't here, and you know about this murder then... I take it he's gone to investigate?”

Kazuha nods, a small movement that Kaito only catches because it's easier to meet her eye right now that Shinichi's. He's certain the detective is blaming himself, angry at himself for doing something flashy that's led to the murder but – frankly, the flashiness is something Kaito had thought of...

Kaito closes his eyes for a second, tries not to imagine the scene that Hattori is heading towards, before shaking his head.

“Yes,” Kazuha says after a moment. She's quiet, almost reserved, but with an intensity that shows she's the calmest of them all. Maybe if she wasn't currently capable of getting them both arrested, again, Kaito would be impressed by her. Instead, he's just... intimidated? “He got a text from Hakuba-kun telling him to show at an address as soon as possible. He's on his way now.”

“I came as soon as I got the text message,” Aoko breathes as she races up the stair case towards some police tape. She'd been halfway towards the police station, ready to deliver the heist notice when her phone had buzzed, tearing her attention from looking outside the train window. It had been a rare moment of service on the train, the message slithering into her inbox.

A murder.

Ran and Hakuba are stood speaking to a police officer, gathering any information on the victim's identity. Aoko glances at them momentarily, before turning her gaze over to Hattori. He's tense, almost nervous as he stands to the side, glancing at the street name and surveying what Aoko can only assume are CCTV cameras in the street.

She supposes that she should talk to Ran or Hakuba first, for some sort of input as to what's going on, but she's certain that's not the best idea. They're both intuitive, and well, Aoko thinks that it'll be difficult to fool them.

And Aoko really needs to fool them for a little while – If only for Kaito's sake. After all, she'd let him leave without a word, and he's their easiest way to Kudo...

“What're you doing?” She asks Hattori instead, making her way to stand beside the Osakan. She glances in the same general direction as he does, squints at the amount of frayed wired and broken lenses on each of the CCTV cameras.

“I-” Hattori turns to glance at her, (he's pale, swallows air as if struggling to think), “I'm tryin' to see if there's any video evidence tha' Kudo was here.”

Aoko crosses her arms, realises that the cameras probably aren't going to give them any help. A good infiltration route, but also a clear point for any argument that Kudo is innocent. A possible copycat murder then? But if no one knows that Kudo's outside of prison...?

“None of the cameras seem operational.” Aoko sighs in response, following Hattori as he makes his way nearer to one of the police investigators. He's a slightly rounder man, a detective that Aoko thinks is called Chisa... wait... no Chiba.

“No,” Hattori says, turning to glance at Aoko, “they aren't. But in a' area like this, I don't think anyone cares much abou' workin' cameras.”

It's true, for an area as run down as this one, there had been a subsequent lack of police influence. Some patrols had been present, when Aoko had left the station behind to find the scene, but there had been broken glass and crushed cigarettes scattered across the pavements.

It's a shame that areas like this even exist, but Aoko supposes there's little they can do in tackling crime without inflicting unjust punishments.

“Detective Chiba” Hattori says as he stops in from of Chiba, not waiting for Aoko's response. “Has th' coroner gathered th' time o' death yet?”

The detective nods, crosses his arms. “It was between 11a.m and 1pm. They've taken the body to the morgue to see if it fits within the profile of... the previous killings, but the basic MO labels this as one of... Kudo-kun's.”

Hattori stiffens, a minute detail but something that Aoko reads with a side glance. She tries to narrow in on what exactly has made him nervous, but it's too difficult to read his movements that intricately. There's something though, something that has him riled.

Aoko glances at her phone, the time flashing 15.23 at her. Something about the timings seems off. She bites into her cheek as Hattori asks another question, words that don't quite register. 11a.m and 1p.m.

The realisation washes ice down her spine.

11.30a.m – the rough timing when Kaito had shown at her house. They'd talked for hours; Not long enough that it had dragged, but by the time he'd left, the time had been past 1p.m. And he'd been by himself, no Kudo with him.

Which begs the question: Where had Kudo been?

Aoko isn't sure, but it is worrying. She knows that Kaito's got faith in him, believes that he's innocent, but frankly, she's nervous. Doesn't it seem like too big a coincidence for them to be split up, for Kudo to have been by himself at the direct time?

She's missing something.

“Can we go inside?” Aoko asks, and maybe she should ask things like 'who was the victim?' or 'who discovered the body?', but she'll leave that line of thought to Hakuba and Ran. It'll offer her a little bit of comfort, anyway, if she doesn't know – it'll only lead to a sickly feeling in her chest if she can associate a name with a pool of blood.

“Y-yes,” Hattori says, “we need to actually investigate th' scene.”

Detective Chiba takes a moment, before nodding his head. They leave the other two behind without a word, following behind the detective as he leads them into an apartment building, up a small stairwell to the second floor. It's a dusty place, abandoned, but there are certain areas that seem to still be in use.

Maybe for the homeless, or for those trafficking drugs. Aoko doesn't know, isn't sure whether she even wants to know.

“I know you probably know this already,” Chiba says, leading them down the corridor to a room where they have to duck under more police tape, “but don't contaminate the crime scene. If you really need to move anything I'm sure forensics will give you some gloves.”

“We will,” Aoko says as they step into the room. Both she and Hattori have to push their way past a small cluster of detectives who're discussing the case near the doors, as they enter the room.

The first thing she sees is the blood. There's a lot of it, splattered across the carpet and the far off wall. It makes Aoko's stomach squirm, and she reaches forward to grab Hattori's arm.

“I'm sorry,” she says when he turns wide eyes on to her, “I'll be okay, I just... haven't been at a murder scene before.”

“It's alright,” Hattori says, and then after a second, “I'm sorry ya had ta attend this one. Let's look over there.”

They move nearer to the blood splatter, and Aoko finds herself breathing through her mouth to avoid the pungent smell of copper invading her nose. Instead, it feels almost like she can taste metal in her mouth, something that forces a shudder to run down her body.

The walls – usually beige – are stained red, but in the middle of the stain are clear blotches. A glance to the side of the blood stains shows two cable ties on either side wrapped around the rafters. She supposes that's how the body was suspended, as Kudo's supposed victims usually were.

Hattori pulls his phone from his pocket as Aoko takes a step forward, dropping her hand from his arm. There's something... odd, about the colouring of the blood and she's almost disgusted that she's thinking so intensely about blood.

“Hattori-kun,” she says, grabbing his attention. He lowers his phone – wait, was he taking a picture? - and steps forward, waiting for her to respond. “Is it just me or... does this area look a little... wetter than the rest of the wall?”

Hattori squints, looks closer as Aoko points a finger at the area she's talking about. If she can envision a body with this amount of blood... She doesn't know the size of the victim, not without seeing him, but if she's going on the basis that he was the average height then... this blood is above the heart by several centimetres.

“It's... Yeah,” Hattori says, almost quiet. “Considering how th' rest has started drying, and how tha's still wet...”

“Almost as if it was added too, after the initial bleeding stopped. Maybe...?” Aoko asks, and Hattori steps forward frowns.

“It's not dripped, like th' rest has. And... it's small, like a rectangle.” Hattori pulls his phone out, takes a picture of the area which... weird but okay. “Let's see if anything else seems strange.”

Aoko nods. And together they make their way through the room.

“There's something I just don't understand,” Saguru says, when he and Ran are climbing the stairs towards the crime scene. They'd been talking to Inspector Shiratori, gaining a wider background on the victim, Numabuchi, and hadn't really gotten answers as such. “How does a serial killer escape under the watchful eye of several guards suddenly go missing.”

Ran's pace is brisk, and Saguru had to take longer strides to keep up with her. Her face is scrunched up in thought, fingers clasped together as she tries to come up with some sort of an explanation.

“I don't know,” Ran says, shaking her head. “They said they were searching in the woods for it, so they even sent extra forces in.”

“Exactly,” Saguru says, shaking his head. “How would a prisoner under that much surveillance be able to get away. His base intelligence wasn't very high, according to tests he'd taken, and he wasn't even an escape risk.”

Ran curls a strand of hair behind her ear. “Tests can be cheated. Maybe he was waiting for a moment to escape?”

Saguru shakes his head. It doesn't seem plausible, plus, if what Shiratori had told them was true, then there wasn't a change. He'd been heavily chained, kept under the watchful eye of at least three guards at every moment. Some escapes are simply impossible without sheer luck mixed with pure brilliance.

“No,” he says, stepping onto the crime scene. “Numabuchi wouldn't have gotten away without a big diversion. Without something massive happening, and even then, they should have caught him while he was still in the woods.”

Ran shrugs her shoulders, an indication that she really doesn't know what she should think at this point in time. Maybe if they had more facts, some information from the people in charge of keeping Numabuchi in chains, they'd be able to get some sort of truth from the situation.

“The woods are an hour drive from Tokyo,” Ran says, as they move through the crime scene. Neither she nor Saguru are focused much on the scene though, not right now, “if we take into account how long it takes to get there, create a big enough diversion, steal Numabuchi and bring him back here to be killed, Shinichi and KID couldn't have done it.”

Saguru pinches the bridge of his nose. “The police are going to talk about how they escaped. You know that someone helped them escape, they wouldn't have been able to get into Tokyo without an accomplice. And they'll argue that this third person was collecting Numabuchi while those two were stealing attention inside Tokyo.”

“This is...” Ran shakes her head, “I don't understand anything about this case. I know that Shinichi wouldn't kill anyone, but the day he appears in Tokyo someone dies... I don't understand how someone else could know his location.”

Saguru stills, takes a moment to think. Then, turning his eyes towards the police inspectors, he lets out a deep breath. “There are only so many people who know about the escape. The police. The prison. And us. If we consider that no one's leaked this to other groups then...”

Ran makes her way to the window, glances out at one of the cameras and it's wiring. It's been sliced, probably with wire cutters, by how clean the cut is. Saguru follows behind her, a heavy feeling slinking down on his shoulders, weighing him down.

“It'd explain how Numabuchi happened to get away from the guards,” Ran whispers, edging Saguru to look at the cameras. It's professionally done, not done by amateurs. Something easily blamed on KID and his skills, but also something anyone with patience and an internet connection can learn to do.

“I think,” Saguru says, crossing his arms, “that we really need to talk to both Kudo-kun and KID.”

The KID-KUDO jailbreak: Echoes of murder as police hunt two escaped prisoners – including serial killer Kudo Shinichi who murdered six, and infamous phantom thief KID (Kuroba Kaito) – who left their cells and escaped through the solitary confinement unit.

Two prisoners are on the run after breaking out of XXXX using minimal tools, have been named as a serial killer and illustrious phantom thief.

Kuroba Kaito, 18, and Kudo Shinichi, 18, escaped the prison several days ago after leaving a playing card in their beds to goad the police.

Kuroba had been serving a sentence for crimes as the thief Kaitou 1412 (KID). Kudo had been serving a sentence after he was found guilty of serial murder, with six counts of premeditated murder.

Police warn members of the public not to approach the escapees as they are dangerous, and if seen to phone XXX immediately.

Read live updates on this case.

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[scribblesofababyvet-blog]

During my time in India I came to the conclusion that I was cursed when it came to surgery…. Every time I picked up a scalpel, nothing went smoothly, thankfully not due to my surgical skill I might add! On one particularly unlucky day which springs to mind, we had a power cut half way through my first surgery which resulted in me fumbling around inside a dog in the dark trying to find my suture material by torch light, which did a fantastic job of blending in. Once power was restored after a lot of angry hollering at the staff by Jack who was also wrist deep in a dog’s abdomen, the next surgery I came to had already had a visit from the “phantom spayer” ( This was the name which we invented for the organisation which seemed to be “helpfully” spaying dogs without notching their ears to indicate they’d been sterilised, making life quite frustrating for the people at HIS) so I spent 20 minutes feeling incredibly incompetent fishing around in this poor dog’s abdomen trying in vain to find it’s uterus (before everyone with any surgical experience thinks I’m an absolute moron for not being able to find the uterine stump, the dogs at HIS were spayed via a flank incision as there was deemed to be less risk of infection and wound breakdown when they released the dogs so the abdomen could not be visualised). Once I’d given up, one of the more experienced compounders came to have a poke and then finally Jack was called to confirm that this dog had in fact already been spayed. This did make me feel slightly better as at least it wasn’t just me being useless! I guess looking back now it did all add an element of excitement to the occasion.

I actually managed to get a bit of a tan from the previous day spent with the camels which I was quite excited about. The 10 gallons of sun cream I was convinced I would need, remained packed in my rucksack as the air is so clogged with filth and pollution (which I’d rather not think about) that the UV barely makes a dent in it. I have to admit that I naively thought I would return from India with a beautiful sun tan, the reality is I came back just as chalky white as when I left, much to my family’s amusement. I still find the notion of the Indians, especially the women wanting to be pale quite baffling though, they seem to worship Western skin yet we do the complete opposite and go to hot countries with the aim to bake ourselves.  Ranjna said that her mother encouraged her to stay inside “or no one would want to marry her” which is ridiculous, heck, she’s so beautiful I’d have married her! It’s so sad that women feel they have to subject themselves to extensive waxing and hiding from the glorious sun in the name of beauty and in order to get a husband. Beth and I rocked our horrendously hairy legs with pride during our time in India with no shame at all!

The number of operations attempted outside the ABC clinic improved substantially during our time at HIS due to our persistent endeavours to kick the over-relaxed vets into gear and make them do something useful. We felt incredibly strongly about this as many of the animals which would have been euthanised on the spot are left to die naturally due to the strong ethical beliefs of the community. In my opinion this is far from ideal as I am very pro-euthanasia when needed, however I feel in cases like those, an incredibly pro-active approach to their care and pain management should be taken , and this was what I found was often missing at HIS.

Incidents as Jack called them were incredibly easy to cause as a Westerner and we fast learnt that as two white girls we were under constant watch, and therefore couldn’t get away with doing anything embarrassing without everybody noticing. One particular incident I caused was when I forgot to wear a belt. I didn’t consider the excitement I would cause when I bent down and everyone could see the top of my bright pink knickers. Naveen, one of the vets chose to tell me this after the entire morning had passed with many excited Indian gentleman following me round to stare at the flash of pink while I was busying myself poking around with people’s pets. I did wonder at the time why they were all stood so close! It’s both hilarious and frustrating how easy it is to cause a scene in India. I found the whole place was a bit of an oxymoron; on the one hand they are the creators of the karma sutra, a concept adopted whole heartedly by the sex loving west and depict many naked women in their artwork yet, they seem so shy and embarrassed by even the slightest hint of nakedness and we heard that even with their own partners it is uncommon for them to undress in front of each other and they commonly get it on with their saris on!

The general public definitely lack education when it comes to their animals in India. It was my experience that most of them were incredibly well-meaning and wanted to help but also absolutely clueless. One particular incident which springs to mind was when a concerned member of the public had found a tortoise wandering about on the high-street. They had rightly brought it in to HIS for help, however had perceived it to be a turtle and the well-meaning fellow had promptly submerged it in water where it had been for 45 minutes until it arrived at HIS. Thankfully tortoises can hold their breath for a significant while and a very panicked Jardice had recognised the problem and scooped it out. After a bit of TLC in a less watery environment the tortoise got over its ordeal quite spectacularly.

That evening we went to an Indian craft market with Ranjna who had some exciting/ frankly terrifying news for us. She had become engaged to the son of a family friend. On paper he sounded fairly nice; he was in banking and came from a wealthy background, he was a few years older ( which was definitely a good thing as from walking through the streets of Jaipur you fast discovered that the 30 and 40 year old men are still acting like intolerable horny teenagers so there was no hope at all for the younger ones!) and their family had agreed to let Ranjna finish her studies before she got married. However, I couldn’t help but still have a problem with arranged marriages, there seemed to be something just so medieval and suffocating about it all to not have your own choice of husband or wife and to marry for convenience and social status rather than love (what can I say, I’m a romantic!). It seemed sad really when all the Indians talk about and watch on TV, both men and women is love and yet they spend their days trying to convince both themselves and us westerners that arranged marriages are much more preferable. I think that is largely why they make such a big deal out of the weddings to try and mask some of the uneasiness about the whole affair and make it seem a much happier occasion than it often is. Undoubtedly it sometimes works, Ranjna’s parents were lucky in that they found a great match in each other but I couldn’t help but think this was rare and what largely happens in most circumstances is husband and wife learn to cohabit together, with each knowing their role in the agreement. Both Beth and I felt a bit protective over Ranjna as she was a really intelligent girl, aspiring to be a vet and really could make something of herself if she was given the opportunity. It was difficult for us to accept that she was facing a life where essentially her husband and his family could dictate what she was allowed to be, which I found incredibly frustrating on her part. I hope sincerely that this match works as well as her parent’s did ….. well in three years’ time I have a wedding invitation and I am incredibly keen to see how things turn out (and more selfishly I can’t deny being incredibly keen to experience an Indian wedding myself).

Who submerged the tortoise!? During my time in India I came to the conclusion that I was cursed when it came to surgery....