#the nearest taxi company

[sreegs]

‼️READING COMPREHENSION WARNING‼️

Read and comprehend the topic of this post above the "read more" link before attempting to respond. This is your only warning. Violators will be mocked and blocked.

A GUIDE TO TIPPING IN AMERICA FOR TOURISTS AND VISITORS

AND ASSHOLES WHO SOMEHOW LIVED HERE THIS LONG WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING THIS

This post is going to cover tipping people in restaurants/eateries and private transportation. Tipping can also apply to many, many other service industries including but not limited to: movers, handypeople, mechanics, etc. Since this is meant to be brief and focused on info relevant to visitors and tourists, I won't discuss that here.

You're tipping 20% minimum on your food and public/private taxi rides (including lyft, uber, etc). Include this in your budget calculations for engaging with these services.

I was going to jokingly just end the post here but let me explain. Minimum wage laws in the US allow employers to pay their employees UNDER FEDERAL MINIMUM WAGE if they're in an industry that receives tips on the regular. Taxi drivers are self-employed and have to pay for the costs of the lease on their vehicle, gas, and give a cut to their garage or ride service provider.

Therefore, capitalists have shifted the cost of paying a living wage to these people on to the consumer rather than the employer. No amount of arguments against tipping culture is going to magically fix this overnight. That's the long game and we're trying to abolish this shit. Therefore, you are tipping 20% minimum. Today.

Even if you did not like the food.

Even if the food was cold.

Even if the server didn't seem cheery and smiley.

Even if the taxi wasn't as fast as you wanted it.

Even if the taxi smelled a little funny or the driver didn't talk the amount you like.

If you did not suffer immediate physical harm or harassment or discrimination at the hands of the service person who provided you the service, full tip. Five stars if you have to rate them in an app. Perfect marks.

Does the above statement seem strange to you? It shouldn't, because remember: capitalists have forced you to cover the full cost of the service. THIS IS NOT THE FAULT OF THE SERVICE WORKER.

Cash is King

Tip in cash if you have it. Credit card companies can't take a chunk out of cash tips. And if someone who works a low-paying job can grab a bit of cash under the table, away from the eyes of the IRS, then they will do more economic good with that money than the tax cut that goes to pay for bombing other countries.

How do I figure out a 20% tip?

Easy. Look at the total (THE TOTAL, WITH TAX YOU FUCKING CHEAPSKATE). Double it, then divide by 10 (move the decimal place one over to the left). Round up the remainder to the nearest dollar. That's going to be at least 20%.

What about counter workers?

There is some confusion on how to tip people who work at a counter in cafes and fast food establishments. Because they are not considered tipped employees and they get minimum wage.

The rule is, if during your transaction the POS (point of sale) register asks you to add a tip, you add a 20% tip. If you see a tip jar, you tip. If neither of these things happen, you don't tip

What about food delivery?

20% minimum tip. You called/ordered via an app, and magically food showed up. In any weather. 20% tip.

Bonus Holiday section:

Let's say you're visiting America during the peak American holidays when it's either a common "dining out" holiday or a holiday where you usually spend time at home with family. This includes, in chronological order:

Valentines Day, Fourth of July Weekend (the whole weekend), Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years Eve and Day.

You tip even more on those days. 30% minimum. I've tipped 100% on meals and rides on Christmas and Thanksgiving. Because those people are taking the time out of spending the day with friends and family, what everyone else is doing, to make sure they have enough money to pay bills and survive in America. And no you fucking bigot, you don't get to eye up the server and figure out if they celebrate Christmas or not.

FAQ:

I can't afford a 20% tip. How do I pay for this?

You can't afford the full service or experience. You don't buy it. Next question.

Where I come from, we don't tip that much/not at all. Why do I have to do this?

You're in America now. You have to do this. Please, feel free to engage the worker in a spirited debate about tipping culture if you feel like you need more info. I'm sure you'll learn something new.

I have a tipping system. You see, first I start at 10% and for every...

Your system is bad and you're a cheapskate. 20% minimum.

Hey wait a minute, I'm an American and I have strict rules about who I tip and how much. And 20% is too high! What are you talking about?

Every decent human being quietly judges you for being an asshole. You are disliked by the people around you who tip like normal people. You are not going to become rich some day because you saved $5 on a tip. Own up and tip.

I ate at an expensive restaurant. Surely I don't have to tip 20% on a bill like this, do I?

Yes you do.

Holy shit. I'm going to follow this guide but wow. Do you Americans really live like this?

Oh buddy wait till you encounter states that don't list the tax on the price tag.

OH MY GOD TUMBLR KEEPS BREAKING THIS POST. ANYTHING BELOW THIS GIF GETS FUCKED PLEASE TRY TO BEAR WITH ME

[rideboomindia]

https://breakingsnews.co/why-rideboom-drivers-got-the-lowest-ride-cancelations-compared-to-others/

The top reasons behind the lowest ride cancelations by the RideBoom drivers.

Chandigarh, India, 26th January 2023, ZEXPRWIRE, RideBoom is a unique on-demand rideshare app that includes taxis, bikes, and parcel delivery. RideBoom is available in more than five major Indian cities at this stage with bike and taxi rides.

A recent study shows that RideBoom drivers got the lowest ride cancelations and they do cancel only if there is an emergency like if they are stuck in traffic or a car broke down.

Instead, the RideBoom drivers always make a call to the passengers not to cancel the ride.

The top reason why RideBoom got the lowest number of ride cancelations

Extra Earning

As per RideBoom drivers are earning more while driving with RideBoom, RideBoom charges a very small amount fee toward each ride.

Lifelong incentives

The driver can earn without driving with a lifelong incentive plan so if the driver is sick or unwell and unable to work he or she still can make some money.

Low overhead expenses

With RideBoom drivers are saving more money they don’t have to drive empty miles they can get more work around their working area from their attached clients.

Driver support

RideBoom provides better support and advice to the drivers like how to keep their cars clean, how to help with passengers’ luggage, and how to earn more by attaching more customers with their driver code.

RideBoom is focusing on better service by proving better training to its drivers and offering more benefits to the users.

RideBoom Technologies got many safety features in their RideBoom App compared to any other ride-share app in the globe like sharing trip info with loved ones, gender booking options, and preferred driver options.

RideBoom Technologies just add another safety feature in their app a red light icon button on the rider map. This could help and improve the rider’s chances of getting help when you need it while in a car.

Convenience is the number one benefit of ridesharing services. You can always find a driver that can help you get home or anywhere you want to go. There is no need to pre-order or pre-scheduling. When you need a ride, simply open the app on your mobile device and select your location, and you will how far the nearest driver is. Once you order a ride, you can track your driver’s movement and be ready when he/she arrives at your location to pick you up. It’s as simple as that. Get a ride anywhere time.

Download the free RideBoom app available in the play store and app store.

Let’s RideBoom India.

Media Contact

Company Name:-RideBoom

Email:-contact@rideboom.com

Company Website:-https://rideboom.com/india/

[karniss-bg3]

Going to use November as my month for writing, not novels, but anything at all (getting out of a creative funk via bg3). Kar'niss/Halsin got me eyezoom cause I do love that sweet hunk of an elf and the bug. Maybe you don't feel confident writin' origins, but perhaps, you could indulge us, in some bullet-point prompts of your own! Ideas! How might they meet, how might they seek each others company (tav not available hes the next calmest thing to karniss? KARNISS DUCK TAXI? Neither of them want to go into the city and stuck together at camp). I'LL WRITE IT. I am overconfident in my ability to slip into characters like a poltergeist. But situations maker, I am not.

Go go gadget prompt generator!

-Halsin is in need of rare bark/seeds/nuts/leaves from rather tall trees. He can’t reach and while he could wildshape to get to what he is after, he instead asks for Kar’niss’ aid to retrieve what he needs.

-Kar’niss runs into trouble while spinning a web in the forest. A gang of squirrels chitter in anger at him and while he tries to run them off they won’t leave him alone. Halsin offers to mediate the dispute using the speak with animals spell.

-Kar’niss is unable to find rest one night. The voices in his mind refuse to go silent and he’s close to having a panic attack. Halsin intervenes and offers something to aid his tormented mental state. This could be meditation, burning a certain collection of herbs and breathing in the smoke, an elixir made from special plants, or even offering him physical contact to help soothe his fear.

-They wander into town and the villagers give Kar’niss a hard time. They either heckle him, throw things, or give him the stink eye. Halsin wildshapes into a giant spider in solidarity, or he steps in to talk sense into the townsfolk in an effort to protect Kar’niss.

-Assassins from the Underdark come to collect Kar’niss’ head in the name of Lolth. It is up to Halsin, Tav, and others at camp to fend them off and keep the drider safe. Add or remove characters at your leisure.

-Kar’niss injures himself in some way. Perhaps one of his legs is broken in a fight. Halsin stays by his side and tends to his wounds dutifully, offering him comfort and kind words through the healing process. He may even have to hunt animals for Kar’niss to eat during this time.

-Halsin falls ill while the pair are traveling. Kar’niss pulls Halsin over his back and carries him to the nearest town to seek aid. He runs into push back from the townspeople but insists on someone helping Halsin, finding his voice in so doing.

These are a few good ones to start with. Enjoy and have fun writing!

[swiftllama]

Always A Winner To Me

Fandom: Smosh

Characters: Ian Hecox, Anthony Padilla

Pairing: Ianthony (Platonic)

Genre: Comfort and Fluff

Rating: G

Summery: Anthony’s always a winner to Ian.

A/N: Hey guys! This is the first bit of writing I’ve posted in years but I was inspired after the events of last night and Taylor’s song ‘New Year’s Day’ and the lyrics - “I’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe / Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home.” kept playing over in my head. And so this was born. Hope you enjoy!

It was the night of the Streamys and Anthony was nominated for a fourth time which up until now had unfortunately presented no wins. But maybe this would be his year?

A knock rattled the door. Anthony answered to be met with a smiling Ian on the other side.

“Ready to go?”

Anthony returned the smile. He’d seen Ian’s suit at the time when they’d gone shopping together a few weeks prior, but now, fully suited and booted, Anthony could really take in how well the emerald green fabric complimented his best friend and, by extension, his own attire.

“Sure.”

He locked up and they made their way to the awaiting car.

~~

The awards were in full swing. They’d popped some champagne. They’d presented an award together earlier in the night. Overall, the two men were having a great night. It was their first award show together in so many years so having the company of the other made it all the more special.

It came to the final award of the night; Anthony’s last chance. They waited with bated breath for the winner to be announced, until a twist - there had been cards hidden at tables around the room with letters that would spell out the winner.

Ian began the search right away, lifting up the tablecloth before standing from his seat and searching frantically.

“Come on, dude! Help me look!”

Anthony remained seated, he’d spotted a few of the letters as people made their way up to the front with their cards; at first hopeful of seeing a few that could spell out his show’s title but quickly that hope faded at seeing one’s that didn’t.

“It’s fine Ian, I didn’t win.”

Upon not finding any cards and Anthony’s dejected look, Ian sat down once again. He side-eyed Anthony, a tug of sadness playing on his heart as he felt for his best friend.

The winner was announced, they clapped along with the audience to show face but the disappointment was evident.

The closing act performed but the pair weren’t in the mood for celebrating and so they stood silently next to each other until the show drew to a close, the house lights came up, and the audience started to disperse.

After making their way outside they said their goodbyes to the other few members of their group until it was just the two of them.

“You want to go for a drink?” Ian finally asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Please.”

They jumped into one of the awaiting taxis and requested the driver to take them to the nearest bar.

~~

A short drive later and the final destination being a small speakeasy on the corner of a fairly quiet, for LA anyways, street; It was late and a Sunday after all. But it was just what they needed and fit the tone of the night.

Inside, they holed up in a rounded booth and Ian ordered a whiskey for each of them.

They nursed their drinks in contemplative silence. But this wasn’t them anymore; they spoke about things now. About their feelings and checked in with each other. So Ian spoke.

“How are you doing?”

Anthony looked up at him through hooded eyes for a moment before looking down into his glass, swirling the ice.

“I’m okay. Just… disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, man. I’m disappointed for you too.”

Anthony met his gaze once more, giving him a grateful half-smile.

“Thanks. I know it’s just an award but it’s just nice to be recognised for your hard work, you know?”

“I know. But it doesn’t diminish the hard work you have put in. That still counts for something.”

This time, Anthony smiled more genuine; Ian’s words making him feel just that bit lighter. “Thanks Ian. I’m glad I had you there tonight.”

Ian fawned, putting a hand to his chest. “Little ol’ me?”

Anthony grinned.

“I am the best date you could ever have.” Ian quipped with sass, flipping pretend hair over his shoulder.

This earned a laugh from Anthony. Ian could always make him feel better.

Leaning forward on the table, Anthony hummed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

The men sat engaged in light chit-chat until the bar called for closing. Their taxi arrived within a matter of minutes and they got in.

~~

They sat in comfortable silence in the back of the taxi as it drove them to their respective homes.

The car slowed as it pulled up outside Ian’s.

“Alright, that’s me. Message me when you get home.”

Just before he got out, Ian turned to Anthony. “And hey,” he started, taking his hand in his. “You’re always a winner to me.” He smiled softly in the dim light, gently squeezing Anthony’s hand three times as a silent ‘I love you’.

Anthony’s heart swelled, matching Ian’s expression, and what Ian couldn’t see was the glaze in his eyes.

With that, Ian exited the car and gave a final wave through the window before turning his back to make his way to the house. The car pulled away and Anthony sat there, his feelings of disappointment now a distant memory in the night, because truthfully, it was just an award. Sure, there might be others in the future, but even if there wasn’t, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because the one award that meant anything to him was his once more; and that was Ian. Nothing could put a damper on what this year had given to him. Having Ian by his side again, owning Smosh, doing what they love - what award could ever beat that? So yes, he may have lost that night, but he had won the greatest prize of all.

[angelsvoice1love]

A dark attraction (pt 1)

You tried reaching for the book, that was stacked high in the book store, you stood on your tip toes and that didn't help either. Then you felt a chest press up against your back and a hand reach for the book.

Man: Here you go, Miss.

Y/n: Oh...thank you. You replied, with a smile.

Nodding, he turned away to walk away, but you stopped him by grabbing onto his arm.

Y/n: Um...i know I just met you, and it might seem strange to ask but would you like to have coffee with me? I just moved here from America, and you just helped me so...i though it would be only a gesture of showing my gratitude.

Man: Ah...well, I think a coffee would be nice. I'm Seong Yun-o.

Y/n: I'm y/n l/n. Nice to meet you.

Smiling you purchased your book and walked to the nearest coffee show with Yun-o, smiling you didn't know what to do or what to talk about with the guy that you just met.

Yun-o: What made you move to Seoul?

Y/n: My job. They transfered me, to our company here in Seoul.

Yun-o: What is it you do for a living.

Y/n: I'm a fashion designer and a author. And you? You asked, taking a sip of your coffee.

Yun-o: I'm and Architectural designer.

Y/n Wow, that's fascinating. We are looking for someone to design a building for the new property we bought. C...could I have your number? Only if it's not to forward in me asking, it's strickly for business. You said, swallowing hard, and taking another sip of your coffee.

Yun-o: Hahaha, here. This is my business card, and this...is my phone number. I'd like to stay in contact, you seem like a nice person and what harm would it be to get to know more people in Seoul?

Y/n: I guess. Thanks. You smiled, as you bit your lip. I...i should go it's getting late, and I still need to unpack at my apartment.

Yun-o: Do you need a ride? Instead of calling a taxi.

Y/n: I...um...i don't think that'll be a bad thing.

Yun-o: Great. Let's go.

Driving you home, the drive was silent, slightly uncomfortable and yet at the same time felt normal to you. Once you reached the apartment, you saw walking to your side after you got out and smiled down at you.

Yun-o: I would really like to know you better, that's if you wouldn't care about that. He said taking your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

Y/n: Would...would you like to...mmm, have dinner here tomorrow night? You asked, as you looked down at your hands.

Yun-o: I'd like that. He replied, letting go of your hand, as he walked backwards. See you, tomorrow night. He gave a beautiful alluring smile, and got in his car.

Once you entered the building, Yun-o pulled out his phone and opened his Somebody app. Scrolling through the girl that were interested in him. Smirking he found a girl, and started chatting to her and arranged to meet her tonight. Giving an evil smile, he drove off preparing things for tonight.

As he arrived at the hotel she was staying at, he knocked on the door and was welcomed by the oyung women.

Baya: Hi, please come inside. She Siad, as she moved aside for him to enter.

Yun-o: Why did you want to meet at a hotel, instead of your home?

Baya: My roommate is there, she's only leaving for England the end of the week and since it's Monday I thought it'll be more private.

Yun-o: Does anyone know your here?

Baya: No. And I even booked this room, under a false name and payed cash. It makes this more interesting, don't you think? She asked Yun-o, as she took of his shirt. Meeting in secret, like to people who are forbidden to see one another. Baya said, as she licked his neck.

Yun-o sat on the couch as Baya took off her clothes, nothing but her underwear consealing her. Yun-o smirked as she took off his pants and shirt throwing it to the side. Kissing his chest Baya straddled his lap and started grinding against him, as she moaned hin his neck as she was sucking on his skin.

Yun-o kissed Baya, on the chest as his hands traveled under her bra pushing it off her and sucking on the soft flesh of her collerbone. Moaning in pure ecstasy, Baya grinded harder on Yun-o making him groan in delight. Lifting her from him, he placed her on the couch and revomed both their underwear and started to have sex with her. Baya, pulled him close as she held tightly onto his strong broad shoulders and yelled as they finished.

Looking up at him, she smiled, at Yun-o. Yun-o gave her a psychotic smile and started to hold her mouth and nose shut. Once she was dead, he carried her to the bathroom and placed her down in water as he injected her arm with drugs making it look like an overdose. After getting dressed, he smoothly walked out of the hotel and didn't get noticed at all, when he entered his car he got a ping from his phone and saw you sent him a message. Smirking, he opened up the message, and read it.

*Message*

Y/n:Hi Yun-o, I wanted to know what would you like to eat for dinner out of three options. 1- sweet and sour pork, with fried rice, kimchi and stir fry, 2- hotpot with all the trimmings or 3- takeout?

Yun-o: I'd enjoy anything. But if I'd be honest, I'd love option 1.

Y/n: Option 1 it is😊.

Yun-o: Counting down the minutes and hours, I'm so exited to have dinner with you🌸.

Y/n: Bye, see you then.

Yun-o: Bye.

*End of chat*

Time skip to next day

You sat across from Yun-o, watching as he ate his food that you made. His eyes closed, as he swallowed the food, smiling at you as he looked your way.

Yun-o: This is delicious. You should've been a chef. He laughed, as you shrugged.

Y/n: I did study to be a chef too. But I'm just helping my friend for now. I guess later I'll move out of the fashion industry, and open my own restaurant.

Yun-o: I'd definitely come eat there all the time.

Y/n: Really? You asked, raising your brow.

Yun-o: Yes. He said, as he stood up waling over to you. He turned your chair, and licked your lips.

You opened your mouth in response to his action, and felt his warm tongue gliding into your mouth. His tongue swirled around your mouth, as he drop to his knees and felt him push your legs apart. Pulling his tongue out of your mouth, he swallowed and smiled.

Yun-o: You tast delicious. He said, as he rubbed his thumb over your lips.

You didn't say anything as you felt his hand moving to your skirt. Pulling it off as you lifted yourself slightly off the chair. You felt his lips connect to your ankles, moving his way up your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat, but as soon as he got closer to your private area, you pulled his head up.

Y/n: STOP. You said fast, as you pulled his face up. We...we only just met yesterday.

Yun-o: That doesn't matter. He said, kissing your knee when you stopped him again.

Y/n: I...i don't...Yun-o, I really like you.

Yun-o: I like you too. He said, rubbing his hands on your legs making you shiver.

Y/n: T...that's...mmm-No. You held onto his hand, and looked into his eyes. I like you since I met you, I felt connected to you in a way that I've never felt before with anyone. I felt that I could...i could feel safe with you around. You said, as he smirked.

Yun-o: Really? If you feel that way, why won't you allow me to carry on?

Y/n: I...i don't know. I just, haven't been with a man since my divorce.

Yun-o: You were married? He asked, as you placed your hands on his shoulders. What happened.

Y/n: I...i caught him cheating on me. We were only married two weeks.

Yun-o: How did you find out?

Y/n: Our honeymoon. You said, looking at him.

You both started laughing, as you said that. Shaking your head you placed your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly.

Y/n: I guess I'm just...scared of getting hurt again. So, that's why I can't do this. I'm sorry.

Yun-o: What gives you the idea, that I'll hurt you? You can trust me. He said, as he kissed your foread, right eye, nose, cheek and lips.

Yun-o softly kissed you as he moved forward slightly, as his hand held onto your neck you could feel the strong hold he had on your neck which made it feel safe. You placed your hands on his shoulders as you reciprocated the kiss, this felt different, this felt like it was right. Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you felt Yun-o pick you up carrying you to bedroom. Breathing in, you watched as he took off his shirt, and pants leaving him in only his black fit underwear. Sitting up, you took off your shirt looking eyes with his as he hovered over you connecting your lips. Yun-o hand traveled up your stomach to your chest, as he messaged it causing you to moan.

Y/n: Yun-o-

Yun-o: Mmm. He hummed, as he started sucking on your neck.

Y/n: I...ugh... You cut yourself off as you turned your head lightly and sucked on his neck causing him to groan.

Yun-o pulled back and stood up taking off his underwear and yours. Now you were both completely naked, Yun-o slowly put on his condom and pushed himself in as he kept eye contact. You nodded your head, telling him you were ready which he instantly took as a go.

He started off with slow, steady movements and caressed your skin as he pushed into you. Yun-o, flipped you over making you stradle him and bounce ontop of him. He smirked up at you as he saw the sweat forming on your face, and how your face would change out of pure pleasure. Sitting up, Yun-o held onto you and moved to the edge of the bed with you still on his lap. He pulled you by the waist whispering in your ear, that he wanted you to bounce faster on him. Doing so, you ft strange since you hadn't had sex like this before, or even had sex after your diver two years ago...this felt amazing it felt different and normal to you. It felt as though it was an experiment that you wanted to try, yet something that's so natural to many people. As you thought about these things, Yun-o placed his mouth on your nipple and started sucking it causing you to feel even hotter than before, he licked his way up and sucked on your collerbone as he reached your mouth he connected you both with a kiss.

You started moaning in the kiss, breathing heavily as his tongue fought with yours for dominance. Holding him closer, you both bounced faster, and harder into each other making your curl your arms around him and his run your hands in his hair.

Y/n: Yun-o....agh...ahh...y...yes...ah

Yun-o: Mm...ah...ugh...just like that. F...faster.

After a few more second you both came, and you collapsed against his chest. Breathing heavily Yun-o could feel your chest rise and fall against his,lifting you off him he took off the condom and threw it in the bin. Walking over to you he got into your bed laying next yto you. You both were facing each other and he pulled you closer, as he kissed you forehead, you laid your head between his chest and neck.

Y/n: This feels nice. You whispered at the warm feeling of his body holding yours.

You fell asleep after saying that, and Yun-o looked down at you and thought to himself. There was no way he could kill you. There was something about you that was different than the others, you were hurt too, you've been cheated on, had to change your whole life and you were to afraid to even do this until he convinced you otherwise. He felt sincerety towards you, he was completely drawn to you. He wanted to protect you, and not kill you, he wanted to learn how to cook with you and have sex with you all over your apartment and more.

Could be that one person that he felt worth living?

[aminocamino]

Day 24 - 4 May Calzadilla de los Hermanillos 17.9km

This was the day that changed everything. We set off at just before 7 for a quick cup of coffee at the local albergue and we said our goodbyes to all our Camino family. It would be a long day for us and we had sent our packs on ahead.

But very soon a niggling pain in my ankle became much worse. With hindsight when I stopped to put some gel on I should have turned back and ordered a taxi but hindsight is great.

We walked with Jenny and Mel and they were great company. Really kept things upbeat. The road we are walking on is the longest stretch of Roman road in Spain - so we are following in the footsteps of Emperor Augustus. The road is flat and straight of course. Good old Romans.

We passed some very cute calfs.

Along the way we saw these weird structures. Carrie wondered if they were wine cellars but apparently people live in them - they are underground houses.

But I was limping badly and the relief at seeing the sign for Reliegos! I sat outside a closed cafe on a chair while Carrie went to find something open. Eventually we found an Albergue and he ordered us a taxi. We waited half an hour for it - I was literally dozing off waiting for having dosed up on ibuprofen and paracetamol! I had decided realising how bad it was to seek medical advice and the nearest centre was Leon.

The taxi duly arrived - lady driver who had her young daughter with her in the front. She was wonderful. Took us to pick up our backpacks at the Albergue in Mansilla Mayor then onward to Leon.

On the way I managed to book a room for Carrie and I for the night. We got to Leon, dropped our bags off at the hotel and went to the local pharmacy.

The interior of the pharmacy was amazing - it was obviously a really old building. The chap who served me was useless - sold me some tablets to reduce the inflammation and told me to ice it. When I asked about strapping it he tried to sell me some bandages. Not being a first aid nurse I declined.

He did write down the name of the local ‘private’ medical centre - turned out to be a 3 minute walk from our hotel. I left Carrie to walk over there. The centre really catered for foreigners - the receptionist rang for an interpreter. I paid a set amount - but when she realised I was a pilgrim I got a massive discount! Eventually got to see a doctor/x ray etc and a prescription for anti-inflammatories and a super strength gel. Angel Carrie went off to get the drugs while I stayed in the hotel.

Carrie sourced some ice - she has been super nurse/mum!

We had pasta at a very busy restaurant right on the Cathedral square and it was excellent.

So here we are - poor Carrie is coming down with a cold and I am limping. Feels very strange - its almost the exact stage Jane tore her ligament last year and I am sure its the same clinic she went to.

So the plan for me is to rest up. I have cancelled our booking for accommodation on Tuesday at Villar de Mazarife and booked my original apartment for 3 nights rather than two. Fingers crossed.

[bluestar22x]

Reunion

The Writing Contest - Chapter 4: Reunion

Summary: The premiere night of the movie based on Nora and Javi's screenplay changes everything and nothing at the same time.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 3,100(ish)

Warnings: Romance (we're laying it on thick today), angst, longing

Author’s Note: Nora's got issues to work through if that's not apparent. Also this is where Nora's love for Bon Jovi (and mine) starts becoming part of the story, not just the chapter titles.

xxx

"Do I look okay?"

Sierra gawked at you through the video chat on your phone, which you had prompted against the mirror in your hotel room's bathroom. "Do you look okay? Seriously, Nora? You look like a princess."

You were dressed in a sleek turquoise blue dress with silver embroidery along the shoulders and edges, your shoulders almost completely exposed and your breasts just contained enough. You had minimum make up on but what you did have on, especially your black eye liner, highlighted your facial features. Your light brown hair was pinned into an updo that had taken you nearly two hours to complete, to your dismay, but at least it looked like the pictures you'd found online. There was a pearl necklace, earrings, and silver rings on three of your fingers that rounded out your look, along with the delicate white sandals with two inch heels that Sierra could not see due to the bathroom countertop being in the way.

"That sounds like too much," you said, frowning. Maybe you should've gone with a black dress.

"No! No!" Sierra shouted, moving closer to her phone's camera. "It's perfect! You look amazing. Everyone at the premiere won't know what hit them."

You blushed, uncertain if you wanted to draw that kind of attention to you. You just wanted to fit in that night, when you joined a selected chosen few to watch California Dreamers for the first time in a classy theater in Los Angeles before its worldwide release the week after.

It was surreal, how your story would soon be on the big screens, for all who wished to see it. Your excitement over it had your hands shaking.

"So are you nervous?" Sierra inquired.

"Of course I am," you replied, taking a final look at your face in the mirror. "I've never been to an event like this. Walter said some paparazzi might take pictures of me. If I do anything wrong I might just end up on the cover of some gossip magazine under 'New Screenplay Writer Has Big Oops At Premiere' or something."

"Don't make me jealous," Sierra said, grinning. "And that's not what I meant. I was talking about how you're about to see Javi again for the first time in a year."

"Why would I be nervous about that?" you asked. "We've kept in contact. I told you that filming for his latest screenplay is starting next month. He knows I've sold another one too. And we did use video chat a few times."

"Yes, but talking through the computer or phone once a month is not the same as in person," Sierra pointed out. "And you still have unresolved feelings for him."

"I do not," you protested a little too fast.

She gave you the look. The one that read as seriously? "You haven't even tried to put yourself out there at all the past year, Nora. Don't deny it."

You tried to anyway. "I've been busy with the second screenplay, you know that. It's been stressful writing completely solo for the first time and then trying to sell it on my own after."

She sighed. "Whatever, why do I even bother? Forget I brought it up and enjoy yourself tonight, Nora. You deserve it."

"Thanks."

"You'd better hang up with me," she figured, glancing at the ancient clock hanging on her kitchen wall. "By the time you call a taxi and they drive you there it'll almost be seven."

You said your goodbyes and switched to calling out for a taxi, the nearest company promising a car within fifteen minutes. It was on time, and you quickly made your way from the inside of your hotel lobby to the car. Though the driver did a double take of you (the good kind) he was nothing but polite and opened the back door for you.

On the ride to the movie theater you twirled the rings on your fingers, jitters truly setting in for the first time, and not just because of the film.

Even though you had denied it, Sierra was right, of course. You still had feelings for Javi and you'd been distracting yourself by burying yourself in your work, not just your second screenplay, but also the part time pet sitting business you'd started, a means to an end to making rent, though you did enjoy taking care of your clients' animals. It wasn't too serious though. You didn't have a regular client base and could leave whenever you liked, something you'd needed to be able to come to the premiere and any other future ones. You hoped someday to quit once you made enough money writing.

The theater the film was premiering at appeared after a right turn onto a busy business street and you ran a hand over the front of your dress, smoothing out wrinkles that didn't exist.

"Showtime," you uttered quietly and carefully stepped out of the taxi after paying the driver, making sure to include a healthy tip.

The entrance to the red carpet section beyond a border of ropes was being guarded by a burly man who was at least a foot taller than you, and seeing him caused your anxiety to flare. You had remembered your pass, right?

You fumbled with your wallet and pulled it out, raising it to your eye level like some detective on an eighties cop show.

"Nora Delaine," he noted, voice booming. "First time at a premiere?"

"How can you tell?" you asked, trying not to squeak.

He smiled, and it was friendly enough, but you were still intimated. You were pretty sure his biceps were larger than your head.

"You look more nervous than my mother's Chihuahua," he chuckled.

And I'm proportionally the same size, you thought.

You sucked in a deep breath and put yourself together. You were being ridiculous. A lot of people in Hollywood were above average height and buff, especially when compared to the average in your town. People of French heritage weren't actually typically all that short, but your family and neighbors did fit the stereotype.

"Have you seen Javi Gutierrez yet?"

"Right here," a familiar voice beyond the ropes answered.

You swiveled your head in the direction of the owner of it and your breath caught.

Several yards away Javi was standing by a backdrop wall put up so the paps could take photos of people as they arrived. He was as handsome as ever, dressed in a classic black and white suit and dress shoes.

Video chat really didn't do him justice, especially when he dressed up.

You approached him after picking your jaw up off the floor, beaming. "Javi!"

"Nora." He opened himself up to you for a hug and you accepted the offer, head against his chest and hands on his shoulder blades. You realized as his hands fell on your spine that you'd forgotten how warm and comforting he was, and you probably lingered in his embrace longer than a friend typically would because of it.

When you pulled away you blinked up at him, analyzing his appearance. Something was different about him.

You gaped at him when you figured it out. "You cut your hair!"

"I always do for premieres," he stated, "For the photos."

You felt a wave of sorrow over the loss of his curls, which was silly, especially since he apparently grew his hair out whenever he wasn't in Hollywood for business, but the feeling was still there.

"You look great, Javi," you told him honestly, "But you also looked great with your waves."

"Thanks," he said, with a hint of a blush on his cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind."

He guided you at the waist towards the center of the carpet as the paparazzi were allowed to file in line along the ropes and started snapping photos of the people that had arrived before you.

You didn't recognize anyone but the director, Marion Young. The actors were probably going to be last to show up, for dramatics.

"Javi look here!" someone called out and you and Javi both pivoted towards a young petite blonde with a massive camera in her hands. You wondered how she could even lift the thing.

"Time to pose," Javi said and you did exactly that as the girl started snapping photos of you together, side by side.

After what felt like ages, you relaxed the forced smile on your face and moved on down the line with him.

"You famous around these parts, Javi?" you inquired, knowing that paps didn't normally recognize writers like that.

"I've been caught hanging out with Nic a few times lately," he explained.

"Ah."

Duh. One of the easiest ways to get noticed in Hollywood was being in the vicinity of a famous actor. Of course someone who was close friends with Nic Cage would gain attention.

"I'm surprised they're not telling me to back out of the shot," you said as another pap's camera flashed at you.

"Even if they did not know you were the main contributing writer to this movie," Javi started, "You look stunning in that dress, cariño. They're eating you up."

Cariño. That was new. You were pretty sure that translated to something like sweetheart. Which wasn't necessarily a romantic pet name but... "Javi." His name came out of you like a warning.

"This is exactly why I made the contest," he told you as you both gained more and more attention nearing the front door of the building. One of his arms was still curled around you. "I wanted to give someone else a shot at the limelight. Soak it in while you can. Hollywood moves fast."

You nodded, not sure what to say, having decided to pretend to have missed the new pet name and ignore how much he was touching you. You didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He tended to get that way when he was excited. That was all it was.

He released you once inside the building and you also had to push aside the disappointment you felt from the loss of contact, shoving the emotion down to replace it with the excitement bubbling up in you for what you'd come here for.

It was time to watch the movie.

You sat down beside him at the back of the theater where the people who weren't the actors and director were asked to sit, and waited anxiously to see the final result of the hard work everyone in the room (besides the few civilians chosen to watch with them) had put in.

It felt like everything was about to change.

x

"So, how'd you like the movie?" Javi questioned as you settled down in the backseat of his limo with him a couple hours later.

"I loved it!" you exclaimed. "The director didn't change too many details and the cinematography was gorgeous. I admit, I wasn't thrilled at first with the casting, they definitely hired the actors for their popularity rather than their appearances fitting Nolan and Angie, but I can't really fault the casting people for it. Those two acted their asses off." You hummed as something that had bothered you crossed your mind. "I do wish the love scene would've been more them though."

Javi glanced at you quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not against movies having music in the background of a love scene," you informed him, "Not in the slightest. They usually add to it. But Nolan turning on that stereo? So not him. He wouldn't want to drown out his partner, you know? They were alone, no one to hear them. It was unnecessary and made it less intimate. Don't you think so?"

He cleared his throat. "Ah, sí, definitely." His phone binged with a text and he nearly jumped in his seat. You tried not to notice though it wasn't like him to get awkward discussing a love scene. You had wrote two together for Angie and Nolan, and they had been pretty spicy. Javi had been completely professional about it.

"Who's that?" you asked.

"One of the producers," he replied as he read the text. "Just reminding everyone the after party is only for those who were part of the crew or wrote for the movie and their significant others. No other family."

"They're paying for the booze," you guessed.

He grinned. "Sí. They promised a round of free shots."

"I think I'll stick to wine tonight," you told him. "The hangover after my birthday celebration was not worth it."

Javi chuckled. "I think I will refuse the offer too. I need to use every spare hour I have tomorrow editing my latest script. I cannot jeopardize my ability to meet the deadline to submit it to the film company interested in it."

The limo driver parked the vehicle and you and Javi quickly exited.

"What are the odds on them having chosen Club Midnight for the party?" you quizzed as you both strolled inside the familiar building.

"High," he shouted at you over the loud music. "I chose to bring you and Sierra here because I've been here many times for after parties. They rent out. So there won't be any general public tonight."

You nodded and weaved your way through the crowd to the bar, with Javi trailing you.

"Hey, congratulations," an unfamiliar woman said as you passed. "How do you feel, your first screenplay being a hit with the critics? Did you see the review calling the movie a beautifully real story about a man and a woman facing life's trials together?"

You turned your head in her direction and flashed her a toothy grin. "Thank you. I hadn't actually checked the reviews yet. Didn't know they released them so fast. And I figured the real test is going to be with the general audiences next week."

"True," she agreed. "They're the ones that make sure your scripts keep getting interest. Still, critical reviews affect turnout to some degree. Don't write off them off."

"Never."

You made it to the bar and ordered the first red wine you could think of, and Javi did the same. You both planted yourselves on bar stools in the corner of the room, away from most of the commotion, after the bartender handed you your drinks.

"I have a confession," you admitted to Javi as you tasted your wine.

"Do tell," he said, leaning in towards you.

"I still like cocktails more than wine."

Javi barked out a laugh. "I won't hold it against you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

You scanned the club, taking in your surroundings and watching as a decent crowd danced the night away on the center floor.

Being there again made it feel like the weekend of your thirty-fifth birthday had been yesterday. It was hard to believe more than a year had passed. A year, and here you were, in the club with Javi again.

What was the saying? The more things change, the more they remain the same? Was that appropriate for this situation?

An hour passed. You and Javi made small talk between yourselves and spent a little time mingling, chatting with the director and complimenting the actors for a job well done. You even talked to a few of the camera crew members for a bit before the DJ put on some slow music for couples to dance to.

You lit up when you recognized the beginnings of the second song. "You Want To Make A Memory."

"What?" Javi frowned.

"The song," you explained, "It's one of my favorites. Do you know Bon Jovi?"

"I saw them in concert once, in Spain, when I was twenty-one," Javi answered. "My girlfriend at the time suggested we go. They were good."

"Aren't they?" You grinned. "They're my favorite band. Jon has such a good voice and I like the majority of their songs."

"Oh?" Javi stood from the couch you were both seated on and offered you a hand in a very prince-like manner. "Do you want to dance?"

You widened your eyes. "Oh, no, you don't have to."

"Come on," he encouraged. "It'll be fun."

"Okay..."

You grabbed his hand and followed him onto the dance floor, where your eyes met and time seemed to slow. He smiled at you and clasped your right hand and his left together. You smiled back and put your left hand on his shoulder. Then his right hand found the small of your back and you both started swaying to the soothing beat of the song.

You soon realized you couldn't look away from Javi and it seemed he couldn't look away from you either. You were trapped, spellbound together, mesmerized, completely lost in the moment. Your heart was racing for no damn reason except the intensity of his gaze.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Moments like this, they were only in the movies, were they not? Yet there you were, living it, and too lost in it for your fears to touch you.

Your face got closer and closer to Javi's, seemingly on its own accord, and he also leaned in towards you, the hand on your back wandering up to rest along your jaw.

Then he was kissing you, and you were kissing him back, both pouring your longing into the movements of your lips, softly, sweetly.

It was exactly the same kind of kiss Nolan and Angie had shared in your screenplay after they'd decided they wanted to be together, no matter what other people thought about their relationship.

You abruptly pushed yourself away from Javi at that thought, the spell broken, and shook your head.

"I can't do this, Javi," you told him, your heart feeling like it was in a vice grip.

"Why not?' he inquired, caressing your face, eyes soft. It hurt, how affectionate he was being with you.

"Because in the morning I'll fly back home," you stated. "Nothing that happens between now and then could change that."

Javi dropped his hand, looking crestfallen, and you backed away, feeling guilty but knowing that trying to comfort him wouldn't help the situation. You couldn't be his friend after what had just happened. Your only real option was to turn away and leave.

So that's what you did. You practically fled the club, eyes welling up like they had after you'd said goodbye to him at the airport.

You cried because you knew the truth. It wasn't actually distance that was the problem, or even the differences between you and Javi.

It was you.

You and your cowardice.

You wanted to be brave, you wanted to charge back into that club and tell him you'd stay to see where your relationship went, but the fearful part of you, the one that remembered your history and the lessons your family had taught you, prevented you from doing so.

Better a broken heart now than a crushed one later.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Link to Bon Jovi's Song (on youtube)

(This song vibes with this chapter, imo)

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[ironcladrhett]

TIMING: Current (last night) LOCATION: Alan’s house, World’s End Isle PARTIES: Rhett (@ironcladrhett) & Alan (@alan-duarte) SUMMARY: Definitely worried about Alan’s shoulder after having been shot (and definitely not just an excuse to see him), Rhett drops in on the realtor unannounced. It’s going fine until Alan admits to Rhett, in not so many words, that he knows he’s a hunter, and he knows he attacked Cass and Alex. CONTENT WARNINGS: Wrspice (implied, it fades to black)

—

It had been months since he’d gotten shot by that fucking hunter. The wound had time to mend itself but you couldn’t say the same about Alan. The weather would only get worse and worse as the days went by, and the latest rainfall had made his shoulder ache. Still, how could he possibly regret stepping in the way? Ever since Alex had stepped into the werewolf’s life, he felt as though he had another, new reason to wake up in the morning. There was the purpose that came along with being a mentor of sorts, of course, but he also had to admit to appreciating the girl’s company, even if she spent half her air criticizing his housing projects and the other half talking about Cass. 

His hand idly rubbing at his shoulder, Alan’s eyes scanned through his emails. His empty coffee cup sat nearby, next to a pile of ongoing contracts and a plate that only had a bunch of crumbs to hold now. He didn’t usually bring work home but to say they were short staffed would have been an understatement. Alan could have hired someone extra, but there weren’t many people looking forward to living or working in a town where the floor wanted you dead (or anything close enough to that), and he hadn’t found anyone who could do the job properly among the very few resumes that were sent their way.

His jaw popped as he yawned and if that wasn’t enough proof that he needed a change of mind, a knock on the door finished convincing him out of his duties. And yet, as he opened the door, answering negatively to desperate emails suddenly didn’t seem like such a terrible idea. What was he doing here? 

—

He’d been attacked. Shot out in the woods while… what, hiking? The sudden surge of concern had been alarming, making his steps falter. Ophelia walked on without him for a few seconds before realizing her father wasn’t beside her anymore, slowing and turning around to face him. “What? What is it?” she inquired curiously. Rhett shook his head, his frown deepening as he tapped away at the screen. His daughter let out a huff of breath, closing the distance between them again and putting her hands on her hips. “Dad. What is it?” 

Rhett clicked the screen off and stuffed the device in his pocket, shaking his head again. “Nothin’,” he lied, flashing her a brief, unconvincing smile. She frowned and rolled her eyes, pulling the sleeve of her flannel back to check the time.

“Ah, shit, I have to go—we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow, okay?” The warden grimaced, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Do we gotta?” “Yes, we gotta. You need a place to live that isn’t that atrocious van!” Ophelia argued, shutting down his continued protest with a feisty glare. The man relented, holding up his hands in defeat. “Good. Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Can… can we do the afternoon, instead?” Rhett tried, giving her a hopeful look and a shrug. Ophelia narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then nodded. 

“Fine. 11am is late enough. Don’t be hungover,” she warned, grabbing him in a tight hug before hurrying off down the street to the nearest bus stop. Rhett sighed, watching her go for a moment before calling a taxi to take him to World’s End Isle.

The ride wasn’t unfamiliar, and neither was the home that stood before him as he got out of the taxi. Shoving a hand into his pocket, he paid his fare before moving toward the front door, pausing to pull his hair up into a messy bun along the way and push up the sleeves of the dark button-up he was wearing. He was still clad in jeans and boots, but they were a far cry from the ratty old things Alan had insisted he’d tossed. Knocking on the door, he didn’t have to wait long in the bitter cold of the darkening evening (he really should have worn a coat) for Alan to pull it open. 

And just like that, his words failed him and he felt a little stupid for being here. Not unannounced, that’d never been a problem for him, but… ah, forget it. His gaze jumped from Alan’s face to one shoulder, then the other, then back to his face. 

“Hey,” he said stupidly, sucking in a sharp breath. “You, ah… I was… nearby, and I thought… uh. How’s your…” Another deep breath, and the warden closed his eyes. “I been shot ‘afore. Sometimes leaves… chronic pain. Learned a few… massagin’ techniques to take the edge off. Thought I could help. Maybe.”

—

While Alan doubted at first that Rhett just happened to be in the neighborhood, he then remembered Emilio saying that he had moved into the realtor’s neighborhood and it wasn't like they had not spoken recently. It was a bit perilous, to keep talking to him as though he wasn't aware of what had happened between the hunter and Cass, or of Alex’s involvement. 

Alan could get along with hunters, if they were reasonable. He got along with Emilio just fine. This complicated things. He appreciated Emilio, he cared a lot for Alex, which meant that he cared for Cass too, but ultimately, Alan also had a fondness for the man who stood on his doorstep with a bashful, stammering stream of words and what seemed like an attempt at sympathy and honesty. It was in a moment like this Alan wished he hadn't let others soften him up.

“Alright, don't stay here,” crossing his arms to wrap his cardigan around him and attempt to stay warm, he pushed himself aside. “Do you want to drink something?”

—

“Aye, when don’t I?” Rhett chuckled, moving into the home and giving a soft sigh of relief at the warmth that wrapped around him. He was still barely used to actual winters and didn’t quite prepare for them right, always overestimating his ability to handle the cold. A shiver ran up his spine and he let his gaze sweep over the place, still finding new things he’d missed despite having been here a few times. It was… nice. Maybe having a place to live that wasn’t on wheels wouldn’t be so bad.

“Anythin’s fine.” Not picky, he didn’t have to say. Alan knew that, obviously. He turned to the man as they made their way to the kitchen, his brow wrinkling as he thought about what he wanted to say. 

“Hey… maybe you oughtta stick to like, neighborhood trails, aye? The woods out beyond downtown are… fucked.” He stepped a bit closer to minimize the distance between them, one hand gently finding Alan’s shoulder. “... which one?”

—

“I’ll get something from the wine cellar,” Alan’s gaze drifted toward the lights across the street. Some of his neighbors were already decorating for Christmas, and their houses could have replaced the public lighting with ease. His parents always found it wasteful and Alan had always preferred to keep his front lawn decorations to a tasteful minimum, which didn’t clash with the minimalism of his house, or Alan’s less than sunny personality. “You’re alright with Californian wine?” Most likely. 

Two glasses were poured and while Alan focused on that, he could try to ignore just for a little bit the irony of Rhett’s words. One of the reasons the woods were so fucking dangerous for Alan was the presence of people who shared Rhett’s belief that a certain part of the local population didn’t deserve to live. And yet that hand on his shoulder was easy to lean against. “Wrong pick,” Alan glanced up to find the other’s eyes, and tapped on the left shoulder. The hunter didn’t look very frightening right now, did he? “Massaging techniques?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if he challenged the other’s ability to soothe out pain rather than cause it. “Your hand is cold dear, I’m gonna start a fire in the living room.”

—

“Where yer other scar is? Man. Unlucky shoulder,” the hunter mused, catching that look in Alan’s eyes and letting out a soft sigh. As the other announced his intention to make a fire, Rhett picked up his glass from the counter, leaning instead onto his cane as he stepped forward after his friend to slowly follow him into the next room. “S’what I said,” he answered, albeit delayed, at Alan’s apparent disbelief that there was much to be done about the aching wound. Or at least that there wasn’t much Rhett could do. Which was… fair. More fair than he figured the man knew, considering there’d not been any threats of violence yet. The way they’d carried on online, he assumed that news of the girls hadn’t made it back to Alan, which told him two things: Alan was unaware of the supernatural (which would stop the girls from having said anything, most likely), and by extension, he himself was quite normal. Human. 

Or at least this was the logic that he applied because he hoped it was true. He couldn’t imagine someone putting on a facade just to fool him, pretending that they didn’t know something as devastating as what he’d done to those girls just to… to what? Get the jump on him? It didn’t make sense, so that couldn’t be it. No, he had no idea, and Rhett found himself clinging to that idea more desperately with each moment of calm familiarity that passed between them. 

Parking himself on the couch while his host went about building a fire, Rhett rested his cane against the coffee table, keeping his eye trained on the other man. A finger reached up idly to push itself beneath the eyepatch and scratch at skin unseen. “Kinda good I been half-blind fer a couple years now,” he said suddenly, gesturing vaguely at the eyepatch when Alan looked over. “Would be havin’ a hell of a time with depth perception, otherwise.” It was said with a dry, nearly humorless chuckle. He’d long since adjusted, and the eye he’d lost to trauma was no more useful when it was still plugged into his head. It wasn’t something he readily told people, because it was a weakness, and he hated admitting those, but… well, it was a lot more obvious now anyway, wasn’t it? Anyway, he didn’t have to mention the fact that he could barely see out of the eye that remained. Even Emilio didn’t know about that.

— 

“Same one,” Alan confirmed. Right above that one bite mark he considered still a curse rather than a blessing. It was easier to tell Alex that she should embrace it than to make her feel the same way he did. There was no cure to the evil they suffered, and there was no undoing the things Alan did. There were some things he didn’t regret, of course, but there was too much he had lost for the benefits to outweigh the disadvantages. 

Sitting by the fireplace with a log in his hands, he looked over at Rhett, unaware of the hunter’s mental peregrinations. He was going through his own : it seemed unlikely that man was going to be able to do anyone harm in that state, but there was a chance he’d want to get his revenge. That is what Alan would have done if he’d been standing in his shoes. Maybe now was the right moment to ask Rhett about it. What could he do to him anyway? He had a bad leg and worse eyesight than before, and Alan liked to think he wouldn’t have come all the way to his house if he hadn’t appreciated him at all. “Since we’re talking about things that we’ve carried around for a few years,” he pushed himself back up, as the firestarter did its work and the wood started cracking gently against the new flames, “you know that old scar of mine?” He rubbed his fingers over his sweater, right where he knew the irregular scar remained. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable talking about it, after all these years. Still, he took a seat, on the other end of the couch, and picked up his glass of wine. “That’s something Alex and I have in common,” with a clearly knowing look, he turned his attention toward the hunter’s face. There was no trace of amusement on Alan’s face. He didn’t particularly enjoy having this conversation with Rhett, but it wasn’t like the other had left him with much of a choice. “I’m not trying to ambush you. You’d have joined the club already if I did,” but that was not the sort of fate he wished on anyone and Alan hoped he never did such a thing on one of his full moons.

—

Alan was uncomfortable. The things he was saying didn't quite click at first, and the warden just cocked his head at the man, wearing a soft, bemused smile. That’s something Alex and I have in common. His heart leapt into his throat at the girl’s name, body tensing reflexively. He felt his too-strong grip on the glass threatening to shatter it, and instead leaned forward to set it down on the coffee table, realizing that his hand was shaking as he pulled back again. “What?” he balked, refusing to believe what he was being told. 

Alan was a fucking werewolf? And he knew—he knew, this whole time. There was a vague threat in there, one that had been restrained only because of… whatever this was that they shared, apparently. The hunter’s heartbeat had kicked up significantly, fearful in spite of Alan’s assurances that if he wanted Rhett dead—or worse—it would’ve already come to pass. There was no pretending now. No reason to act like he wasn’t a killer, like Alan didn’t know that he’d attacked Cass and Alex in the woods, and that his fresh scars and permanent injuries were a result of the young werewolf protecting what she loved. 

Before her, he would have been angry. He would have been furious for being duped like this, duped into caring for someone who was… was… The insults felt bitter on his tongue, and of course his thoughts went briefly to his daughter. He’d been a hypocrite plenty of times in his life, he knew that, but he couldn’t—he’d said he wouldn’t. He was retired now. He couldn’t—

“You’re… I…” He didn’t know what to say, hating the feeling of fear and hurt taking up residence where the anger should have been. “I didn’t know—she… I thought I was protectin’ her,” he breathed, rising from the couch and grabbing his cane before he sank back to the floor without it. For the brief few moments before she turned and attacked us, sure. “Then she—look. Listen. I ain’t—I’m retired now, aye? I don’t…” He felt sick. Whatever sort of affection he held for the man—no, the werewolf—sitting at the other end of the couch felt tainted by his deeply ingrained disgust for inhuman things, but he was wrestling with his acceptance of his daughter at the same time. He couldn’t have it both ways, and yet his mind was trying to put the blinders back on. 

He took a wobbly step backward, waving his free hand in the air defensively. “I don’t want no more trouble,” he muttered, turning away from Alan to try and hobble back toward the front door.

—

“I…” Well this wasn’t what Alan had expected. For a moment, he thought he saw it : the anger, the disgust, but there was nothing but worry and something akin to fright there. At least Alan figured that must have been fright, and he realized that perhaps he had just fucked up here. “Rhett, please…” It wasn’t like he was gonna outrun the werewolf, not in the state he was in and Alan still rushed past him, if only to stand in his way and attempt to have a conversation. “I’m sorry, I…” Putting his hands before him, Alan felt oddly vulnerable, for someone who wasn’t precisely under any threat other than Rhett’s sudden departure. 

It was too much at once. Finding out Alan was a werewolf, finding out he knew about the hunting thing, about the incident with Cass, about the incident with Alex. But the werewolf was feeling a whirl of conflicting emotions ever since he had heard what happened, and the more he spoke with the hunter, the more confused he was with what was the right course of action. If he hadn’t known Rhett at all, it wouldn’t have been difficult. It would have been quite simple, really. With a sigh, Alan looked down to the side,  finding it difficult to hold up his gaze. 

“Can we just sit down and talk?” Because he’d just follow him outside, stubborn as he was. “You said you retired, yeah?” Whatever that meant. Retirement didn’t make anyone like Rhett completely harmless, but the way he said it made Alan wonder what had pushed him to make that call. He had mentioned a daughter earlier today, and now that the werewolf saw the damage done by Alex, he could take a wild guess and claim that the hunter was now unfit for carrying out his duties. “I wish I could do the same,” with a bitter scoff, he glanced the other way, still avoiding looking him in the eyes.

—

Alan stopping him, apologizing and asking him to just talk were things that desperately confused the warden. He came to an abrupt halt, of course, keeping his distance from Alan, knowing that there was no chance of him forcing his way through. Even with his enhanced strength, he was crippled. There was nothing to do about it, so he stayed, trapped like a stray dog for the second time in as many months. 

At least this werewolf wasn’t trying to gut him like a fish. 

There was a weak attempt at humor that was met with a soft exhale from Rhett, not quite a laugh, but an acknowledgement of what Alan was saying. He looked as bewildered as he felt, the grip on his cane tightening as he steadied himself on his feet and lifted it to his waist, like he was afraid he was going to have to use it to defend himself. It was clear he didn’t want a fight, because they both knew it would be his last one, but he couldn’t help the reaction. 

“Nothin’ to talk about,” he argued, his voice strained with emotion. He too was looking anywhere but at Alan, his one-eyed gaze raking over the ceiling as he spoke again in a voice that was nearly too soft and too upset to be coming from such a typically gruff, loud man. “I fucked up,” he breathed, his knuckles turning white as they clutched the cane even tighter. It wasn’t clear what exactly he was referring to, though one could surmise that it was likely his attack on Alex and Cass—though in his mind, coming here had been part of it. Engaging with Alan had been part of it, even back when he thought nothing of it, because it always just made things harder. He wasn’t built for this. Never had been, and he shouldn’t have tried again. Not even to the level that they had… which was far from falling in love, but still. He cared for Alan in a way that was mostly foreign to him these days, and caring for people… well, shit, look what it had put him through with Emilio. Hell and back again. 

His eye finally found Alan’s face and he hissed in a sharp breath when he felt it welling with tears. “Please,” he begged, not sure what he was begging for. He just wanted to leave, but… he also didn’t. He wanted them to be okay, but some part of him was ready to convince him that they never could. That made sense, right? How could it ever be okay? 

This was why he shouldn’t be looking for a place to live. He’d fucked things up here, beyond the point of repair. There was no home to be had here. And Ophelia… she’d be better off without him. He was a destroyer, nothing more. 

—

“Really? You’re gonna tell me that what happened in the woods was nothing?” The bitterness of Alan’s tone clashed with Rhett’s, and it took the werewolf aback as well, as if he had expected their tones to match instead. They both had a right to be furious at the other, didn’t they? 

Confused, but not defeated yet, he pressed his lips into a thin line. “This makes things easier, don’t you think?” A monster meets a monster ; a killer, a killer, and a liar, a liar. They both had a lot of terrible things on their ledger, without a doubt, but Alan didn’t ask Rhett to stay because he wanted to have a look at an hypothetical moral balance if only because he worried his own would be just as bad, if not worse. 

“You don’t precisely have a monopoly on having done terrible things or fucking up,” and he held out his hand, not entirely sure of whether the other would reject it or not. “I’m not… I just want to talk and sort things out,” because he was tired of seeing people he cared about hurt, and of losing people. He didn’t want to lose Alex, but he had come to realize he didn’t really want to lose Rhett either. What they had might have been new, he cared for that fool enough to ask him, once again to have a word with him. Maybe Alan was the fool here, who knew? 

“I’m not a good person myself, but… I’m trying to be better,” because he’d seen the kind of change it made. Alan kept to himself the fact that a fae had been partly responsible for the change, at first. Forced kindness surely had done a lot for Alan’s morale at first, worsening it each passing day until he realized how different things were when he addressed others with consideration. “C’mon. You’ll be sorry you didn’t try the wine, and it’s warmer by the fireplace than out there, and…” then, and only then, he tried looking at Rhett, catching sight of near teary eyes and the look he gave him was an apologetic one. “I really am sorry for the way I brought this up.”

—

He stared at the extended hand, knowing it for what it was: an olive branch, and yet… His gaze jumped back up to find Alan’s just as he was looking at him. And he apologized again. And Rhett realized he still had yet to do that, but didn’t know if he could. He swallowed hard, finally releasing the cane with his left hand and setting it back against the floor where it belonged, leaning onto it as he realized his leg was aching. 

He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, sighed, and tried again. “I’m tryin’, too. To be better.” Annoyed that his body had betrayed him, the warden pressed the sleeve of his shirt over his ‘good’ eye to soak up the unspilled tears, lowering his arm again and shaking out the nervous energy that was building up in him like a terrible storm. Again his gaze fell to Alan’s hand, and he sighed, dropped his head, and reached for it. “Stop apologizin’,” he grumbled at the other, keeping his chin down as he was led back into the living room where the fireplace and wine still waited for them. 

Once they were seated again, the warden leaned forward onto his knees, hands clasped in front of him. “... what you wanna sort out, then? Before you ask, no—I ain’t gonna go after them again. Hence the whole…” Retirement thing, he left out, his voice trailing off instead as it threatened to waver and betray him once more. 

—

Alan was grateful for Rhett’s pragmatism then. He didn't precisely want to ask whether or not he would have to worry for Cass’ or Alex’s safety although he was curious as to what had caused him to change his mind. Was it the fact that he’d lost an eye, or that he most likely would walk with a cane from now on? Or was it that recent revelation he had had. 

It was another thing he wasn't sure how to bring up. Rhett had been evasive on the matter while they spoke online, and back then Alan was more interested in his girls’ well-being to care to push the subject any further. “What are you gonna do now? Focus on the forge business ?” Perhaps kicking around the bush was easier, for now. It wasn't like he didn't care for Rhett’s answer. Even though he was furious he had attacked Cass (especially since he’d first seen her at his place), when Alex told him what she’d done, he couldn't help but feel worried for both sides instead of just hers. And then, Alan had felt terrible about that. 

He still felt conflicted. How could he not ?

“Would you like me to let them know that they’re safe?” Part of him felt like an idiot for blindly believing his word, and the other part just had to look at the poor man to forget about any sense of doubt. “Do you want something stronger than wine?” Because one glass wouldn't suffice to soothe Alan’s nerves and he assumed Rhett, much like his brother, favored stronger liquor.

—

“I guess,” he responded dejectedly. It was true, it wasn’t like hunting was the only thing he spent his time on, and he could certainly put in more hours at the forge. They’d extend his contract if he asked, he knew that. His work made them a lot of money, after all. And that would fill the days, but what of the nights? He’d been horribly restless since Alex kicked his ass six ways to Sunday, stuck in bed all day and night, shuffling aimlessly around Parker’s house, irritated by his own uselessness. He slept enough, but not much. How would he fill the rest of those hours? It was why, in his conversation with Emilio, he’d wanted to make sure he ended up living somewhere near a pub, if that was a thing that was going to happen at all. He needed a distraction. He needed to medicate. 

Glancing sideways at his friend, Rhett scoffed, but it wasn’t out of malice. He was just… well, it was difficult to describe. “They know. Er… Alex does, anyway. She… reached out, after. Told ‘er as much. Guess hearin’ it from you too ain’t gonna hurt none, though.” At the offer for something harder than wine, the warden nodded silently. It wasn’t until Alan had returned with said liquor (and Rhett had drained his glass already) that the hunter spoke of the elephant in the room. 

“It’s my kid,” he offered quietly, downing a gulp of the hard liquor Alan had brought back to the living room, not much caring to know what it was, and just wanting it to help him fucking relax. “She’s… like Cass. A nymph.” He dragged a hand down his face, shaking his head. A moment of silence fell over them while Alan absorbed what he’d said and Rhett reached deep for the next thing he wanted to say. 

“I wasn’t… always like this.” Like this meaning, of course, the sort of hunter, the sort of man that would attempt to murder a girl who had committed no crime other than being different from him. “I used to… I was, y’know. More… live n’ let live.” The explanations were not coming easily, strangled out of him like he’d never spoken them before (which he hadn’t), an admission of the person he’d been before everything went wrong only making him feel worse for the way he’d become. He couldn’t claim to have been born this way, no… it was learned. It was adopted from grief, and he’d clung to that grief so bitterly and for so long that it had overtaken him like a parasite. Why? What changed? He knew the questions were coming. He could see Desmond’s face in his mind’s eye, hear his friend accusing him of failing. Fuck. Fuck. 

—

Although Alan felt as though speaking would do more harm than good, remaining quiet when someone unfolded themselves like that wasn't exactly easy. He would have liked to ask questions, but rather than push to know more, he sat back, getting his feet and his knees up on the couch to get comfortable and just listen. Nursing his glass of wine against his cashmere sweater, he shifted again, pushing on his shoulder briefly before humming quietly. 

Rhett had had a child with a nymph and then decided that not one single fae deserved to live. Alan knew he was missing a piece of the puzzle here, one that Rhett kept without a doubt, close to his chest. But he had already shared so much. Was it fair to ask ? Should he have waited for him to tell by himself? Was he supposed to piece it all together on his own ? 

With no clear answer to his thoughts, Alan took a long sip from his glass and leaned forward to give his pal a refill. He scooted a bit closer too, if only to put a friendly hand on his forearm. “What's her name ?” He inquired. “Did you… reach out to her?” He imagined easily that facing an angry werewolf could make one reflect on the meaning of their life. “Is she staying with you?” Neither the van nor the bunker seemed like a suitable place for a young woman to live, but Alan felt like now was a good time for kindness. 

The wood cracked a bit in the fireplace, and Alan’s gaze fell onto the flames for a moment. “You’ll have to tell me more about that live and let live guy. He sounds fun,” with a light smile he picked up his wine glass, taking another sip. 

—

What’s her name? Rhett stared down at his hands, at Alan’s hand on his tattooed arm, and hesitated. “Ophelia,” he finally answered, trying to make a list of the rest of them in his mind so he could rattle them off more easily and satisfy Alan’s curiosity. “And no. She.. found me. After… after this.” He gestured at his leg and eye. “Reached out once. Ignored her. Then she tracked down ‘Milio, made him agree to have us meet. N’ no. She ain’t stayin’ with me. She n’... her mum, they’re… they got a community’ah their own. One I was huntin’ down. I was ready to raze that place to the fuckin’ ground, mate.” He lifted his free hand to his face again, hiding behind his palm as he struggled with the reality of his situation. “She’s… she’s a good kid. Grown now, but… fuck’s sake.” He was crying again, gritting his teeth angrily and swiping at the tears with the back of his hand. 

Rhett actually managed a weak laugh when Alan smiled as his own little half-joke. He felt like he was shaking his head too much, but it was all he could think to do half the time. All of this just felt… stupid. Wrong. He’d not talked to anyone about any of this and he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. Was he mourning who he used to be? Relieved to have a chance to get back to that? Afraid? He couldn’t fucking decide. “He was fun,” came his answer, finally. “Fun enough to… to keep his stupid, angry brother in line, anyway. Desmond, he… he hated nonhumans. Hated ‘em all, always wanted to kill every single one we came across. I talked him outta a lot of ‘em, but after he—” Rhett’s breath caught in his throat and he shivered, pushing the thought away. He turned his head to look at Alan, distraught. “M’sorry. Fer all of it. I ain’t been right in a… a long time.”

—

That wasn't the sort of spectacle he’d have ever expected to see. Some men looked like they had never shed a tear in their entire life and up until now, Alan figured that Rhett was one of them. For a few more seconds, he didn't budge, sympathetically brushing his thumb against the tattooed forearm. “She’s a brave kid,” at least from what he understood. Searching for the guy who wanted her whole species dead took guts. “I guess she got that much from you,” moving his hand to Rhett’s cheek, Alan couldn't help but smile a bit more as he elicited a laugh out of him.

His hand dropped back to his lap, and he once again fell silent. He didn't know everything about Emilio and Rhett’s lives clearly, but he always assumed their family bond might have gone a bit further than blood. Desmond was a name he had never heard before, one Rhett spoke of past tense, he noticed. It didn't take the full sentence for Alan to connect the dots. 

He remained silent, even as Rhett's apology finally arrived. With all that he had just unpacked, Alan even had to stop himself from saying sorry for the third time. “You know, if you can change once, you can change twice. I meant it when I said I'd like to know more about the live and let live version of you,” and how could that happen without support ? 

His empty glass of wine was set down on the coffee table, and an offer to get or make something to eat was made. “You’re not alone, alright ?”

—

She was brave… braver than Alan knew. Braver than Rhett could bring himself to admit. She’d sought him out, even though he was the reason she and her mother had to run from place to place. She looked for him knowing that he might want to kill her, and… and he had, hadn’t he? For a moment. The first time she called him, he was angry. Angry that she existed, angry that she’d found him, angry that her presence was going to complicate his plans. 

For a moment, he’d wanted her dead. For a moment, he’d settled on the idea that he’d be the one to do it. A moment turned into a week, turned into two. He’d kill her, he thought. Be done with it. Only Emilio wouldn’t let him, wouldn’t allow them to be alone together. Smart. He’d been bluffing when he told his brother that she was safe because she was his daughter—what did blood matter? He’d never been a part of her life. What did any of it matter? 

But then he saw her face to face, and his fury had withered beneath her warm gaze and bright smile. All the fight had left him in one fell swoop, and he found himself wishing it’d happened just a few days sooner. Before he tracked Cass to her cave. Before Alex attacked him to save her, before she crippled him further, before all of it. But… maybe it wasn’t a bad thing, being physically unable to fight, to match how he felt inside. Maybe it made all this easier. Maybe if he hadn’t been so injured, he still would have been angry when Ophelia looked him in the eye and told him he had to stop hunting her mother. Maybe he would have done something stupid, and maybe Emilio would have been the one to put him down. 

It was all for the best, probably. Except for that girl, that nymph. None of it was fair to her. Ugh. 

The offer of food was turned down, the warden’s interest in anything other than booze proving to be lackluster. And the more he drank of that, the less reactive he became to the things he was saying. The pent up fear and frustration and guilt didn’t force itself out by way of tears or stammered words anymore, and for a while, Rhett was quiet. He simply existed, sitting beside Alan on the couch as they watched the flames eat up the logs in the fireplace, the comfortable but heavy silence stretching on until he felt compelled to break it with a question. 

“Alan,” he began, his voice hoarse, “why don’t you hate me?”

—

Why didn't he hate him? Alan couldn't say he had tried very much. His anger against Rhett’s action had almost immediately become laced to worry and, little by little with an unsettling echo. The werewolf might have not hunted down any specific hunter in his life, most of those who had crossed his path had either come to regret it or didn't even have time to reflect on their mistake. 

A few months ago, he wouldn't have seen hypocrisy in condemning what Rhett had done because it wasn't the same, right? At least Alan was protecting himself, and those hunters were probably going to try to hurt him or another werewolf. It was only self preservation. Nothing more. These last few weeks, yes, Alan felt a different way. On both sides of the story, there were people with lives and loved ones and he knew for certain that this wasn't how he’d get hunters to stop roaming the woods looking for revenge or ultimately… trying to protect their own people.  Maybe it was not the same, no, but that didn't make it right.

Alan’s gaze remained fixed on the flames for a while more and he served himself another glass of wine as he thought some more on his reply. 

He didn't want to give Rhett the wrong idea. Even if he did something similar, he didn't convince himself that what he did was right, even if that would have helped him sleep better some nights. And eventually what did the trick was thinking of what else defined him and telling oneself that there was more to him than his wrong doings. 

“I suppose I have been reflecting on my own actions a lot lately,” and the eulogy that would have gotten him. He realized he would have been glad not to hear it. Maybe he didn't have it in him to do grand gestures of kindness but he could try at least to be kinder. That came with showing Alex how to live her lycanthropy better, helping his neighbors replace into a new home and quite frankly changing his methods. This wouldn't change how he got successful or buy him a ticket to heaven but peace of mind was good enough.

“Trying this thing called kindness,” he took a sip and didn't even grimace when he said that last word. “I wouldn't be doing a good job at that if I refused to see the good in you,” if you put aside some quirks that were anything but usual, the version of Rhett he had been around was nothing like the one he imagined the girls had faced. It didn't change what he had done, but Alan couldn't unsee it, or pretend he didn't appreciate him. “I have a lot of reasons to despise myself but I don't think I'd even try changing if there was no one to give me hope that it’ll be okay,” he looked up from the fireplace, at last, to set his eyes on the hunter. “I don't hate you, because you are so much more.” 

—

He didn't deserve it, he knew that. Alan making an effort to see the goodness in him was a waste, but was it fair to tell the man that? He'd likely just argue it, anyway. But Rhett knew better than anyone that he wasn't worth anyone's pity or concern, not for all the hellish things he'd done in his life. He didn't deserve his daughter, who seemed to love him unconditionally in spite of those terrible things, or perhaps because of them, because she felt like she could fix him. But there was nothing left to fix. The warden could claim to be retired, he could claim to have no interest in hunting intelligent supernatural species anymore, but the damage was done. The bias was there, and it was never going away. He'd never be able to love his girl the way he should, he'd never be able to look past the things that made him and Alan so different. He could lie and say he was, but deep down, he knew. He was a hunter. He was a tool, raised for one thing, and he'd been doing it for forty years. There was more bad in him than good, and anyone who knew hunters would know that he didn't have the time to make up for it. 

But... if that's what Alan chose to see, that small percentage of decency, who was Rhett to say he shouldn't? Life was fucking lonely enough already. 

He shook his head like he didn't really believe what Alan was saying, the silent response cut with a soft sigh. “Flattered you think so,” he finally responded. He wasn't confirming that Alan was right or wrong, just that it was nice to hear. Because... it was. For better or worse, Rhett and Emilio clung to one another like they were the only thing keeping each other afloat, and sometimes Rhett wondered if that wasn't the truth. They were family, but that didn't mean that Emilio saw anything in Rhett that he liked. He loved him, unconditionally, just like Ophelia... but that didn't make it right. That didn't mean that Rhett was worth saving, it didn't mean that the warden had any chance of changing again. 

He glanced over and found Alan looking back at him, and his throat tightened. “Don't mean it'll be okay, though. Caused a lotta damage. Figure there's plenty'ah folks that ain't gonna forgive me.” I shouldn't be staying in this town, he thought, but I have to if I want any kind of relationship with my daughter. “I'd leave, if not for...” The thought drifted away from him, dead in the air. If not for her. If not for Emilio. If not for the one person that doesn't have to like him, who shouldn’t like him, still giving him a chance. Alan. 

“Guess I just don't want you gettin' the wrong sorta idea, mate. Too mercurial for anythin' like that. Not long for this world, considerin'.” Don't get attached, was what he was trying to say. “So don't go givin’ me anythin' more than I've earned, aye?” Which was next to nothing. Polite company, someone to spend the night with. He hoped Alan could understand.

—

“I think we’re both old enough to know saying it will be okay doesn't fix much, but…” he fell silent. “What I'm trying to say is don't overthink it. You’re not alone, and that has to be a relief, hasn't it?” Or maybe that was just Alan speaking out loud, reflecting on his own needs. He found relief in having his family, yes, but it weighed a lot, knowing that he was lying to them every full moon. He had missed, over the last ten years, a good share of family events that had the misfortune of happening on one of these evenings.

He offered the other man a slight smile. He didn't have much more to offer in terms of comfort. Yes, there would be folks coming at him for revenge, and perhaps they’d want more than Alex had gotten here. He knew the sentiment. 

Now all Rhett could hope for was for these people to see his cane and eye patch and realize that someone had been quicker than them at getting back at him. That was also what Alan could hope for. 

“Rhett, I don't want to alarm you, but you’re being extremely gentle here,” he teased, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and wrinkling his eyes. It was also quite clumsy, but what else did he expect from the New Zealander? The werewolf reached out, plucking flyaway hair from the hunter's cheek and pushing it back behind his ear. “I’m fine with what we have,” he finally stated. “I’ll let you know if that changes,” it wasn't reasonable to expect much more at his age, with his track record. “Another glass of Martinique rum?” 

—

It was a relief. Rhett nodded to indicate as much, but let the man's words roll around in his head in quiet contemplation. He'd been overthinking a lot of things lately, since thinking was all he could fucking do. 

Whatever will be will be. There was no point in agonizing over it. Worrying wouldn't make anything better or prevent the inevitable… so he may as well just focus on existing in the moment. 

When Alan accused him of being gentle, the warden scoffed as if offended, though he did wear a slight grin at the same time. “Shut up,” he grumbled, not seeing the hand coming his way until it was touching his face. He tried not to flinch but was only partially successful, and an attempt to mask it was made as he turned his head again to look at Alan. His expression was… difficult to read. On the one hand, he was glad for the company. On the other… Alan was a werewolf. And sure, that boundary had been crossed some months ago already, but he hadn't known this then. If he had, he would have killed him. Tried, anyway. Probably ended up worse than he was now. 

Alan was a werewolf, but he was also a friend. One of the very few that Rhett actually had, and certainly the only one willing to offer physical comfort—a thing the warden hadn't been aware he so desperately wanted until it had been given. He glanced at his emptied glass when Alan offered to refill it, and sighed. He'd promised Ophelia he wouldn't be hungover in the morning, but… “Sure,” he conceded, and when Alan had finished pouring from the bottle, he motioned for him to turn around. “Now, ‘bout that shoulder…” His hands quickly found a home on the correct side of Alan's neck, uncharacteristically cautious in the way they applied pressure meant to soothe, listening for any sounds of discomfort. The two-handed action was interrupted only as he moved one to grab his glass and take a sip. “Call me gentle again ‘n I'll make ya regret it,” he teased back as both thumbs dug into the muscle with care.

—

It was Alan’s turn to flinch, then. Clearly he wasn't scared too much by the hunter’s presence, but his shoulder had been giving him a hard time and while the idea of Rhett’s rough hands meddling with it didn't sound like a good one on paper, it didn’t prove so bad for now.

His nerves relaxed, and the werewolf who had no reason to feel uncomfortable by his own doing, rested his weight against the back of the couch, letting the hunter's fingers knead his tired shoulder. Alan found himself thinking of what his reaction could have been. 

A year ago, if Alex had told him of Rhett’s wrong doings, the werewolf would not have thought about it at all. He would have found him and attempted to put a more permanent end to the threat. 

While he was leaning into the hunter's definitely gentle touch, Alan’s smile grew up to his eyes. That wasn't supposed to be his reaction to a threat but in this instant it was difficult to feel anything but safe and warm. 

“I’m glad we had this conversation,” not as eye opening as figuring out the other could be soft, but certainly important. “I always feel lighter telling people I…” 

He still had his difficulties admitting to caring for others, even if he showed it in every way but words. 

“Well, telling them the truth. I hope you feel lighter knowing you’re not lying to me either.”

—

“Aye,” was all Rhett could say to the sentiment, struggling even more than his counterpart to admit when he gave a shit about someone. All other soft dialogue was shoved back into a trunk and locked away, the key discarded carelessly somewhere in the maze of barren rooms that made up his mind. His stubbornness would always put up a fight, a staunch refusal to accept such things boiling down into denial that kept him, in a way, at arm’s length from everyone. Not literally, of course—hands worked deftly at easing the pain in Alan’s shoulder, quite practiced in the motions after so many years of performing them on himself after difficult hunts. 

The silence that settled between them was comfortable, neither feeling the need to fill it with inanity, talking for the sake of talking. Anyway, Rhett was terrible with chit chat, a fact that Alan seemed to have already understood and internalized. He was grateful for it. 

His fingers slipped beneath the collar of Alan’s shirt in the front, sliding over bare skin to the scar on his shoulder that he now knew came from a werewolf. Still massaging with the other hand, Rhett drifted his fingertips over the uneven skin, his gaze flicking up to Alan’s profile. He’d never killed a werewolf before. Had a good idea of what it’d take, and it sure as hell didn’t sound easy. Not only that, but the man’s earlier insinuation that he could’ve been turned by now was… well, accurate, for one, but it was a thought that elbowed its way to the forefront of his mind as he took in the other’s visage. What was it like, he wondered. Losing control like that, but on such a strict schedule. How did Alan cope with it? How many people had he killed? How many hunters? When had Rhett stopped being just another body to add to the pile and started being something worth protecting? 

He was reminded, for a moment, of Emilio and how he had tried to protect the people in his life from Rhett. Funny, how the roles had been reversed. It was a perspective that he’d do well to think on for a while, but as his hands became distracted from their duty, wandering farther from Alan’s shoulder, so too did his thoughts. They were already quite close, but the warden leaned in to speak into his ear. 

“Mind if I stay here tonight?” 

—

“Aye indeed,” there was no denying that Alan, as respectful of silence as he was, was usually a little more talkative. It wasn't that he and Rhett had nothing more to say to each other but their conversation had been quite trying and the werewolf didn't want to go back there just yet. The subject would probably come back on the agenda later. Alan had a lot to make up for, too. Not that he had harmed Rhett, but among the hunters who had passed through his clutches, there were some who would come back to haunt him one day. He sometimes hoped that the large number of wolves in the region protected him. In truth, he knew nothing about it. Maybe no one was looking for him, and maybe living worried was the worst punishment he would have to endure.

Distracted by his thoughts, he was quick to notice that the hunter's hands had taken a more direct approach, and after a brief glance over his shoulder, unbuttoned the first few buttons of his white shirt to let him further examine the hideous scar that he had on his shoulder, now adorned with a second scar, more marked, recent, blistered. That silver bullet had left quite a mess.

When Rhett had flinched, Alan had told himself that his condition made him unattractive, even repulsive to the hunter, and he would have understood if that had been the case. Although he behaved like someone who had everything under control, that was how he managed to hide his weaknesses and faults from everyone. According to him, it was easier to live looking perfect for everyone to see, even if it meant being alone with your pain and difficulties, because that also meant that everyone envied what he had and that sounded better than pity. Besides, people had better things to do than deal with his personal problems.

The hunter's breath against his ear was a welcome distraction, and his unpleasant thoughts gave way to a relieved sigh as he sank into sturdy arms. “I would not mind at all,” and reaching over his head to weave fingers through unruly (but softer than usual, he noted) hair, Alan shifted to the side to grant the man an affectionate kiss on the corner of his lips. 

—

The mistake had already been made, if you could call it that, so what was the point in holding back now? Rhett would gain nothing by shutting Alan out at this point except more loneliness. He'd had plenty of that over the last couple of decades, why insist that it continue unless he sought misery? Sometimes he wondered if that wasn't the case, and he just couldn't or wouldn't admit it to himself. 

Oh well. Made no difference to him now. 

The feeling of fingers in his hair elicited a soft sigh from the warden, all the hostility that typically filled his days ebbing away to make room for something softer and warmer. Was this how other people often felt? Was the cold, dark grip of a life resigned to violence his own fault, or was that something he was always destined to ride out? He couldn’t say for certain, but he did recognize that it was becoming easier to forget that anger the more time he spent around people like Ophelia and Alan. People that, for all the world, should want him dead, and yet…

He chased Alan's kiss with one of his own, angling his head to better catch his mouth fully. There was something akin to desperation in the way he grasped at Alan, like he might slip away if Rhett wasn't quick enough to show his interest, like he'd come back to his senses and realize that what the warden had done was inexcusable. He guided the man to turn and face him, his bum leg dangling uselessly off the couch as the other tucked itself beneath him. 

“Was hopin’ you'd say that,” he answered breathlessly before pulling Alan over the top of him as he laid back on the cushions. 

—

From someone who would have happily massacred him a few months ago, Alan expected hesitant gestures as if inviting him to slow down the course of things, a kind of new timidity, as if they had actually met only a few moments ago. The fervor was as much a surprise as it was a welcomed one.

All this changed a lot of things. He knew it well. But he didn't want them to become strangers again. Doubts dissipated with each kiss given, each breath shared, each sigh whispered against the skin. Running his hand through his own hair to discipline it (a futile effort if there was one right now), Alan studied him for a short moment, his eyes wandering along those long eyelashes, the pronounced bridge of his nose, the scars more or less less recent speckling the face of the hunter like a constellation traced on his skin, up until he decided it was no longer time for contemplation.

For now at least. Because it resumed later.

It was entirely dark out now, and through the large windows that faced the living room, there was nothing to see. The fire still crackled in the attic, covering white noise and outdoor sounds. Alan often had something of the sort going, if only to cover the hum of kitchen appliances, cars in the street, or any distraction that he imagined had dogs barking. 

It didn't prevent him from monitoring every breath the hunter was taking, however, his face nuzzled as it was against the crook of his neck. It was a warm, comfortable embrace, and a younger Alan would have probably agreed on greeting slumber here with just a throw blanket and a shoulder for a pillow. “How does a proper bed sound to you? Or a shower and toothbrush?” He would have rather not moved, still, the werewolf pushed himself off the couch, stepping over discarded clothes to bravely lead the way there. “Unless you’d rather stay here on your own of course.” With a glance over his shoulder, and a kind smile he disappeared around the corner.

—

As their heartbeats slowed and breaths evened out, Rhett stared blankly at the ceiling. Alan was half draped over him, perhaps the only thing keeping him from floating off into that unseen abyss that was his fractured mind. He could hear Desmond, he could see him in some capacity, like a hallucination, loudly announcing his disgust at the sight of his brother in this state. It was the same as before, the same as when Desmond realized Rhett was falling in love with Mariela. I don’t know how you’ve managed it, but you love her more than me, and you’ve only known her for six months! You’re choosing her! 

It’s not that simple, Rhett had protested, and it was certainly a sentiment that could apply to the present as well. He looked down at the semi-opaque figure of his brother that stood at his feet. I’m lonely, he told the apparition in their private, shared headspace. What the fuck does it matter? I’ll be dead this time next year anyway. Desmond shook his head and turned away, just in time for Alan to stir and say something. Rhett watched him get to his feet, his chest tight. He hesitated on the couch for a few moments before pushing himself up and grabbing his cane to follow after his bedfellow, thinking that a shower, brush, and bed all sounded pretty damn nice.

[tewz]

I think it's such a shame that no one can get mental help in Upper Michigan, USA. I had to take "getting help" into my own hands and read into psychiatry/different therapies and teach myself how to be less depressed/anxious on my own because my survival instinct kicked in and I can't just go without help. I literally had to help myself as a last resort. It was really difficult but I somehow pulled through. I'm still not able to function like a proper adult (can't work or drive), but I'm no longer s**c*dal and planning my own death like I did between the ages of 14-28. My 30's have actually been great so far. I have a lot less episodes and they are shorter and less intense. I haven't self-harmed in about 5 years or so too. Some people can't conquer such a thing though, and I am really concerned for several of my friends. You wouldn't believe the amount of people who live in my area who come to me crying about how they can't take it anymore. A couple of them jumped through hoops to get online therapy (tele-health, but it's very pricey and inconvenient). It's pretty much all of my friends at this point. Like my advice and compassion can only do so much and it doesn't ever seem to help them. It's become a little tiring in a way.

Same with getting a dentist with cheap insurance. The greedy conservatives (which is 2/3 of the population here) won't allow it. We all have to travel downstate or to Wisconsin to get basic work done (it takes 3.5 hours of driving to get downstate and 2.5 hours to get anywhere good in Wisconsin + no one drives or can afford cars anymore so we're all doomed). I'm gonna have to start getting to the abscess stage again to have to energy/drive to seek another dentist willing to help and that is not fair. I shouldn't have to look like I do hard drugs just because no one will fix my teeth + depression never helped with that equation either.

Everyone's life up here is a disaster. I live in a corner of the world that is sickeningly resource-less. The nearest psychiatric hospital is 1.5 hours away and doesn't usually accept people unless they've committed a crime or something drastic. The 2nd closest one is a double drive down to Wisconsin, unless you have Michigan-only insurance, then you're driving 6 hours downstate.

Another thing that drives me up the wall is the lack of basic ANYTHING. My friend from New York wants to come visit, but there's little to no AirBnB's up here unless you find a cabin in the woods with no phone/internet service, T-Mobile doesn't reach up here, no Uber drivers of any kind (2 expensive taxi companies that are overbooked all the time is the only way to get anywhere), no basic stores to find anything you're looking for so we all have to order stuff off the internet, no records stores in the entire U.P. except for a couple run-down multi-media stores that have maybe a bin or two of 60's country and Christmas music on vinyl, etc, etc. Also, my town has always been living about 10-15 years in the past. You can't find online reviews or even websites for most stores because the boomers and bootlicking assholes around here don't know what the fuck computers are. And if there's a fashion trend that I find on the internet (like crop tops of example), they won't hit our stores until 5 years later when the trend slows down. The end. Rant over. I don't wanna upset myself but like... lol...

[jigokusite]

きさらぎ駅

KISARAGI STATION

My first re-write of the new blog! I decided to start with a classic, Kisaragi Station. This one was posted in real-time on 2chan, where the original poster, who went by the name Hasumi, received advice from others on what to do in the strange situation she found herself in.

I'll be taking what I've got here from Kowabana.net! For the sake of simplicity and ease of reading, I'll make Hasumi's responses red and 2chan responses green.

Hasumi It might just be my imagination, but do you mind if I talk about something?

2chan Sure, go ahead. What happened?

Hasumi I just got on the train, but something’s off.

2chan Okay.

Hasumi It’s the train I always take to and from work, but it hasn’t stopped at any stations for about 20 minutes now. It always stops every five minutes, or at most every seven or eight, but it hasn’t stopped at all. There are currently five other people on board, but they’re all asleep.

2chan You haven’t gotten off the train yet, have you? You didn’t get on the express by mistake?

Hasumi Yeah, like you said, it’s possible I got on the wrong train. I’ll wait it out just a little longer. If anything else weird happens, I’ll come back again.

2chan First of all, why don’t you go to the front carriage and see the conductor? If he had an epileptic fit or something that would be terrible. Go and check on him!

Hasumi It still doesn’t look like we’re going to stop anywhere, so I’ll go and have a look.

The blinds or something are covering the window, so I can’t see the driver. I’m on a private railway in Shizuoka Prefecture.

2chan Did you knock on the window?

Hasumi I did, but there was no answer.

2chan Can you see outside? Can you see the names of passing stations or anything?

Hasumi After leaving the tunnel the train has started to slow down a little. We don’t usually pass through a tunnel though. It’s the train from Shin-Hamamatsu Station.

It looks like we’re about to stop.

2chan You’re not gonna get off, are you?

Hasumi We’re stopped at Kisaragi Station, but I wonder if I should get off? I’ve never seen or heard of this station before.

2chan You should get off.

No, you should stay on until the last stop.

I mean, the train should’ve started moving again by now, shouldn’t it?

Hasumi, what time did you get on the train?

Hasumi I got off. The station is empty. I got on the train around 11.40 pm, I think.

2chan I did a search for Kisaragi Station, but nothing came up… And hang on, your train’s been running for an hour now? Alright, I’m off to take a bath.

I looked for Kisaragi Station as well, but there’s nothing here.

Hasumi I think I should go back. I’ve been looking for a timetable but I can’t find anything. The train is still stopped so I wonder if it would be safer to just get back on? Well, while I was writing that I already got back on board.

2chan Are there any buildings nearby that look like they might have people? It’s cold out there, so be careful.

Hasumi I’m gonna leave the station and see if I can find a taxi. Thanks.

2chan That’s a good idea. Be careful.

I’m doubtful that you’ll easily be able to find a taxi at an empty station after the last trains have already run.

And it looks like Hasumi’s become a resident of the 2D world.

Hasumi There’s nothing here, let alone a taxi. What should I do?

2chan Go see the station attendant or a nearby police box!

Shouldn’t you call 110 for now?

Why don’t you call the taxi company?

All you can do at this point is go to the nearest convenience store.

If there’s a public phone nearby, you should look up the number of the taxi company and give them a call.

Hasumi I call my parents to come and pick me up but they don’t know where Kisaragi Station is. They said they’d look it up on the map and then come to get me, but I’m kinda scared.

2chan What happened to the others on the train? Were you the only one who got off?

Hasumi, I also tried to find Kisaragi Station on the internet, but there’s nothing here. You said you were near the Shin-Hamamatsu area, right? I’ll see if I can find anything on Yahoo.

Hasumi I went to look for a public phone but there aren’t any. The other passengers didn’t get off, so I’m alone right now. The station name is most definitely Kisaragi Station.

2chan There’s a chance you’ll find a public phone off the station grounds.

Why don’t you try leaving the station?

I just did a bit of investigating right now, and the kanji for ‘oni’ (demon) can also be read as ‘kisaragi,’ right…?

So you mean ‘Demon Station’…? That’s terrifying.

Are you a video game nerd? When I googled it, I found a video game.

Write down the previous and next stations from Kisaragi Station. Don’t say there’s nothing written there.

Hasumi What game are you talking about? There are no previous or next stations written here.

2chan Try walking back home along the tracks.

If you start running now, you can probably catch up with the train!

It’s a station, so there has to be people living around there.

Hasumi Yeah, that’s right. I was panicking, so I didn’t even notice. I’ll follow the tracks back and wait for my parents to call. I tried looking before in the Town Information part of I Mode in my phone, but it came up with some kind of error. I just wanna go home.

2chan Whether it’s a joke or not, I’m gonna work towards solving this seriously.

Hasumi There really is nothing around here. All I can see are grasslands and mountains. But if I follow the railway tracks, I think I can get home, so I’ll do my best. Thank you. You might think it’s all just one big joke, but can I come back if I run into any other problems?

2chan Of course. At any rate, take care.

Of course. Just be careful your phone doesn’t die. It’s your lifeline right now.

Don’t start walking in the wrong direction. And be careful inside the tunnel.

Can a phone even get reception in an area with nothing around? I think it would be better if you don’t move from the station…

All alone at an unmanned station on a cold night. The lights will probably turn off soon and it’ll be dark.

The railway tracks are an even darker trap. There’s a tunnel after that too, right?

And yet, it would probably be safer to spend the night at the station…

This is terribly risky.

Hasumi My father called. He had a lot of questions, but in the end we have no idea where I am, so he told me to call 110. I don’t really want to, but I’m going to give the police a call and see if they can help me…

2chan I think it would be easier for you to move around once it gets brighter…

Could you really wait there all alone at night? In some strange, unfamiliar place…

Could you pass through the tunnel all alone at night? On some strange, unfamiliar railway track…

So could you keep walking through some unfamiliar street at night in the cold?

Hasumi I tried explaining my situation the best I could to the police, but they thought it was a joke and got angry at me. I was so scared that I ended up apologising to them…

2chan Why did you apologise? You should call it a night. Go wait at the station for the first train.

What’s it like around the station? Is there anything there?

Hasumi I can hear what sounds like the beating of drums coming from far away, mixed with the sound of a ringing bell. Honestly, I don’t know what I should do anymore.

2chan Hasumi, you need to get back to the station. It’s best to return to where you were in the first place when you get lost.

It’s about to start…

Drums and bells…?

It’s probably just a festival.

Hasumi You might think I’m lying, but I’m so scared, I can’t look back. I wanna go back to the station, but I can’t turn back.

2chan Run. Whatever you do, don’t look back.

You can’t look back at the station! You’ll be taken away. Just run towards the tunnel, right now! It should be closer than you think.

Hasumi Someone just yelled out from behind me. “Hey, you can’t walk along the railway track, it’s dangerous!” I thought it might be the station attendant, so I turned around, and about 10 metres away there was the old guy with one leg standing there. Then he disappeared. I’m so scared, I can’t move.

2chan I said don’t look back. Just run.

Calm down and listen to what I have to say. Try going towards the sound of the drums. There should be people there.

Just where are you trying to send Hasumi?

That’s not it at all, Hasumi is about to be taken away. That’s why I’m saying, if she can, she should go back.

How come you could you tell it was an old guy with just one leg?

…because it’s an old guy with just one leg?

It’s probably some guy that was hit by a train and lost his leg and then died.

Hasumi I can’t walk anymore, but I also can’t run. The sound of the drums is getting closer.

2chan Just wait for morning. Once it gets brighter, it won’t be so scary.

You should have gotten back on the train.

Hasumi I’m still alive. I fell over and I’m bleeding, but I’m still holding onto the heel I broke. I don’t want to die yet.

2chan Well, it’s not like things were going to get better if you stayed in the one spot, anyway.

I think you’ll be fine if you can get through the tunnel, anyhow. When you pass through, let us know and get some help.

Hasumi I called home. My dad said he’d call the police for me, but the sound is getting closer and closer.

2chan Well, let’s just pray that sound isn’t the sound of an approaching train. Having said that, it’s probably too late for that now.

Hasumi I did my best and I’m somehow in front of the tunnel now. The name says Isanuki. The sound is getting closer, so I’m gonna gather up all my courage and try to get through. I’ll post again once I get through safely.

2chan Good luck.

This is the end. The train and the station are gone. You can’t go back. There’s no-one to follow. The sound you hear is a phantom of your own past. Run towards the tunnel. If you stop, you’ll just be stuck between worlds.

Hasumi I’ve exited the tunnel. Someone’s standing just ahead of me. Looks like doing what you guys suggested was the right answer. Thank you. I’m probably gonna be mistaken for a monster, my face is a mess of tears.

2chan Hasumi, wait! Don’t move!

Stop! It’s dangerous!

Who would be standing there at such a time? It’s too suspicious…

Hasumi Sorry for making you all worry. The person was very kind and said they would take me to the closest station. Apparently there’s a business hotel or something there. Everyone, thank you so much.

2chan Hasumi. There’s something I want to ask you, so please answer. Where are you? Can you ask that kind person the place name?

Are they really kind? They could be scarier than what’s going on here, you know.

Yeah, maybe. Anywhere, where the hell are you?!

That person is dangerous!! Why is someone on the railway tracks at this time of night? They must have run into you while disposing of a dead body or something! Run!!

Hasumi I asked where we are, but he just said ‘Hina.’ There’s no way that could be true though.

2chan Hasumi, get out of the car!

I’m sorry, Kasumi. Where is Hina?

What a strange story. So at this particular time some suspicious old guy just happened to be there to pick up a girl walking along the railway tracks…? What was he doing?

Hasumi We’ve started getting closer to the mountains now. I don’t think there’s anywhere for the car to stop, and he’s stopped talking to me entirely.

2chan There’s no reason for even a strange old dude to be up at this time.

Maybe he’s not talking to you anymore because you’re always on your phone?

Hasumi, you’re in danger. Did you tell your parents to come and get you from the tunnel?

Hasumi. Call 110. This might be the last time you ever write anything.

Hasumi My battery’s about to die. Things are looking strange, so I’m gonna try to run the first chance I get. He’s been muttering about something I can’t understand for a while now. Just so I’m ready when needs be, I’m going to make this my last post for now.

※ After this post, Hasumi was never heard from again.

[blackwomentravelmagic]

Traveling is one of the most exciting experiences a person can have, but it can also be a little nerve-wracking, especially if you're traveling solo or to an unfamiliar destination. However, there are many ways to ensure your safety while traveling, so you can enjoy your trip without any unnecessary stress or worry.

One of the most important things to do before you travel is to research your destination. This includes learning about the local culture, customs and laws, as well as potential safety concerns. For example, if you're traveling to a city known for pickpocketing, you'll want to be extra vigilant about keeping your belongings secure.

Another important safety tip is to always trust your instincts. If a situation or person feels uncomfortable, don't hesitate to remove yourself from the situation or seek help from a trusted authority figure. It's better to be safe than sorry, and your gut instincts can often be a reliable guide.

When it comes to transportation, it's important to choose reputable companies and drivers. This means avoiding unlicensed taxis or private cars, and instead opting for established taxi companies or ride-sharing services. You should also avoid walking alone at night in unfamiliar neighborhoods, and instead opt for well-lit and populated areas.

In addition to taking precautions while on the go, it's also important to secure your valuables while traveling. This includes keeping your passport, credit cards, and other important documents in a secure location, such as a hotel safe or hidden pouch under your clothing. You should also avoid carrying large amounts of cash or wearing expensive jewelry, which can make you a target for theft.

Another important safety tip is to stay connected with loved ones back home. This can be as simple as sending regular updates about your whereabouts and activities, or sharing your itinerary with family or friends. You can also use social media to check in and share updates about your trip, which can provide an added layer of security and peace of mind.

Finally, it's important to remember that accidents and emergencies can happen, no matter how well-prepared you are. That's why it's important to have a plan in place in case of an emergency, such as knowing the location of the nearest hospital or embassy, and having emergency contact information on hand.

Traveling can be an incredibly rewarding and enriching experience, but it's important to take steps to ensure your safety while on the go. By doing your research, trusting your instincts, securing your valuables, and staying connected with loved ones, you can enjoy your trip with confidence and peace of mind. So pack your bags, grab your passport, and get ready for the adventure of a lifetime!

[rideboomindia]

Another milestone will be added in RideBoom journey of launching its bike taxi in the Indian city of Agra.

Agra, India, 23rd October 2023, ZEX PR WIRE, RideBoom, a leading transportation network company, is excited to announce the upcoming launch of its innovative bike taxi service in the city of Agra. With this new addition to its portfolio of services, RideBoom aims to provide convenient, efficient, and eco-friendly transportation options for residents and visitors of Agra.

The bike taxi service offered by RideBoom will utilize a fleet of well-maintained motorcycles operated by trained and professional drivers. Customers will be able to book a bike taxi through the RideBoom mobile application, which will connect them to the nearest available driver. The service is designed to offer a fast and affordable mode of transportation, particularly for short-distance trips within the city.

RideBoom’s bike taxi service brings numerous benefits to the local community. Firstly, it provides an alternative transportation option that reduces road congestion and promotes cleaner air quality. Additionally, the service offers flexible employment opportunities for individuals who own motorcycles and wish to earn a livelihood by partnering with RideBoom.

“We are thrilled to introduce our bike taxi service in Agra,” said Mr. Harminder Malhi known as Harry Malhi, CEO of RideBoom. “Agra is a city known for its rich cultural heritage and vibrant tourism industry. By launching the bike taxi service, we aim to enhance the overall transportation experience for both residents and tourists, while also contributing to a greener and more sustainable future.”

To ensure the safety and security of passengers, RideBoom has implemented comprehensive safety protocols for its bike taxi service. All drivers undergo a thorough background check, and the motorcycles are regularly inspected and maintained to meet stringent safety standards. Furthermore, riders will have access to a 24/7 customer support team, allowing them to address any concerns or queries they may have during their journey.

The launch of RideBoom’s bike taxi service in Agra is scheduled for 12 November 2023. The service will be available to residents and visitors throughout the city, allowing them to conveniently navigate through Agra’s bustling streets and explore its many attractions.

For more information about RideBoom and its services, please visit https://rideboom.com/india/ or download the RideBoom mobile application, available on iOS/Android.

About RideBoom:

RideBoom is a leading transportation network company committed to revolutionizing mobility solutions across various cities. With a focus on convenience, safety, and sustainability, RideBoom offers a range of transportation services, including ride-hailing, bike taxis, and more. The company strives to create a seamless and enjoyable transportation experience for its customers while contributing to the development of smart cities.

[moldgonee]

Ways To Travel Off The Beaten Path

Traveling is a great way to expand ones horizons. It introduces one to new cultures and ideas, expands ones understanding of the world, and can be extremely fun to boot. However, proper precautions should be taken Taxi Airport To Nerja traveling. Prior planning and research are important, to minimize sticky situations and unexpected snafu's. This article will cover some of the required information you should gather before embarking on your journey.

Travel can be a good way to get away from it all, but sometimes it is necessary to get in touch with the rest of the world. For this purpose, make sure your cell phone works wherever you are going or purchase a prepaid phone in your destination country. You will be glad you did if you lose your credit cards or passport and need to contact your bank - or embassy! - right away.

When taking a road trip to an unfamiliar area, be sure that your car is serviced and you have a full tank of gas. The last thing you need is to break down, unaware of where the nearest gas station is. Keep an empty gas can in the trunk of your car in the event that you run out of gas. You will be able to make your way to the nearest service station and fill up the can, rather than calling someone out to do that for you.

Savvy air travelers know not to let delays get to them personally. In modern air travel delays are virtually inevitable. Every frequent flyer will encounter flights that run late, get overbooked, or even get canceled. Passengers can do nothing about these things. What they can do is remember that the airline personnel taking care of them are doing there best to get them to their destinations.

Make sure to research what the weather is going to be like in your destination. This will allow you to pack more appropriately. If it will be cold, you will need to take lots of layers. If it will be warm, then you know you can pack a lot of light weight clothing and sandals.

One simple tip for hotel safety is to carry a small rubber door stop with you. It can pack easily inside a shoe or even be carried in a jacket pocket if you're short on space. This door stop can be wedged under the door at night, to prevent midnight visitors.

Use vacuum bags to pack more into your carry-on luggage. Trying to fit everything you'll need for your trip into a carry-on-sized bag can be challenging. To maximize the space, try using travel vacuum bags for your clothes. You insert your clothes, zip the bag, and roll it to remove the air. Just be sure to unpack as soon as you arrive at your destination so that your clothes have time to return to their normal shape.

Because security does not allow you to lock your luggage, you run the risk of the zippers coming undone and your belongings leaving a trail across the country and around the baggage claim. To help prevent this, use zip ties, which hold the zipper together, but can easily be cut off (with little cost to you) by security, if necessary.

When going on a cruise, wear your room key around your neck, on a lanyard or similar item. Losing your room key on a cruise ship can cost you greatly, not only in money, but in lost time. Keeping your key with you wherever you go can insure that you, and your belongings, will be safe.

Traveling is one of the greatest experiences one can have in life. The ability to meet new people, explore new places, and learn about new cultures is unprecedented. The tips in this article should serve you well on your exciting adventures.

[loyaltyandchaos]

@therapardalis​ said:

Thera hurried through the entrance door to 79s, maybe a little more quickly than she needed to. Neon lights reflected from her hair and the shimmer of her dress, tamped down the spots of high colour on her cheeks as she climbed the stairs toward the private tables. She spotted Cody at the one nearest the corner, alone despite the curious glances being sent his way from some hopefuls at the bar. "Hello, Al'verde." She leaned in for a greeting kiss before taking her seat, lips pursed in a clear attempt to keep laughter down. "So, I got an air-taxi from the docking bay ... and it was the driver from the 'Kitten Incident'. Just thought you should know."

This time, Cody decided to stay alone and not join the conversations and companies. He wanted to be alone and think a little. When Thera joined him, Cody didn't mind. He was glad to see her. He took a sip from his glass and chuckled. The commander remembered that incident well.

"Oh! And what did he say? Was there anything interesting?"

He was wondering how the taxi driver behaved this time.

[fakesurprise]

Skipping Hope: first scene

I’d never met a Monday I didn’t like, which might be why the world fell apart Tuesday morning. I came downstairs, not sure how to tell mom and dad I didn’t actually need a job for college

Dad was already up and in a suit and tie: he sleeps less than anyone I know. I could hear mom upstairs in her office fighting with the computer, but she hadn’t yelled for me so it was probably just the normal issues.

“Sannu,” I said, giving Dad a handshake to buy time before figuring out how I’d explain last night to them. He was going to ask what jobs I’m applying for before they left, and I tried not to lie to to my parents.

Dad gave me a puzzled look, his grip loose. “Good morning?”

I let go. “Dad? Is everything okay?” “Everything is fine,” he said, not looking any less puzzled.

I walked over and did a sniff-test, but mom hadn’t replaced his coffee with decaf.

As if my worry has summoned her, Mom came down the stairs in a rush of shoes, a bag slung over her shoulder. “Amari: can you clean up? We have to go: the flight was moved for the conference and the computer crashed when I tried to rebook anything!”

Dad ran upstairs and was down with his briefcase in under four minutes while mom argued with the cab company while handing me a small stack of bills for the week. Dad came down, gave me a normal hug and mom a peck on my cheek before they were out the door, leaving the kitchen looking like aliens had invaded it.

I was halfway through doing dishes when mom came back in, up the stairs and back down as I stared in shock.

“Forgot my phone,” is all she said before the door is slammed and the taxi skidded back onto the road.

I dropped a cup, which hit the ground and rolled against the fridge without breaking.

“What?” I squeaked out, but it’s far too late.

Everyone has weird talents. I have a friend who can tie her shoes without looking, doing it perfectly every time. Dad could guess the time to the nearest five minutes without even needing to look at the sun. And mom never, ever misplaced her keys or phone, to the point that we teased her gently about it and threatened to try and hide them on her. Not that dad or I ever would.

I finished cleaning the kitchen out of reflex, slathering a bagel in butter and headed upstairs as I ate it. Cleaning helped ground me, and mom and dad didn’t exactly object to it.

Their bedroom was neat as always, like they insisted mine should be. Mom’s office was a bit of a mess, but it often is because she wore too many hats at the university and Dad often had his office crammed into a corner of hers when he had to work from home. Nothing weird to it, nothing off in their bedroom.

No smell of drugs.

I knew my parents had met because my mom snuck off to smoke marijuana during a missionary trip. Dad kept her and her friend safe, got them back to their hotel. They’d met properly two days later after she was left stranded in Nigeria and kicked out of the mission after they’d found out her real reasons for joining. They smoked some pot on their anniversary as a remembrance, but that was two months ago. No smell that screamed drugs or anything weird.

I checked the envelope behind my computer desk. Nothing has changed. I had the hundred thousand I’d won last night from Campfire Casino, enough for university and a bit left over. I put it back, as if somehow moving it would do something. Nothing happened. I stood. Breathed. Dad had been off. Mom was busy. I knew my upcoming fees were stressing both of them, but I’d taken care of that. Not smartly, but the slot machines had worked.

Luck had always been my talent: by ten I’d had to stop entering any school raffle because I won them all. It was silly and weird, but no sillier or weirder than how Gorman in grade three had been able to fart entire songs from his butt.

“Okay. Okay.” I shook my head, put my keys in the left pocket of my jeans and went downstairs to water our gardens. Given the weirdness of today, mom hadn’t even left me a list of things to do, but that was always on it. I started making a mental list to check groceries and make sure their flights back would be on time so I’d know when to properly clean the house even as I headed out into the garden, working out a mental map of which plants needed watering first. Most of our back yard was garden, and that I couldn’t just leave for several days or mom would have had my hide. It was the work of a good hour to water all of it but I seldom did it at once.

A noise I hadn’t known was possible came out of me as I opened the back door.

Every flower was dead. The garden was all dead earth and dying flowers like a scene from a horror film. The back wall was devoid of ivy, each planter and pot looking as if locusts had feasted on even the local weeds and mosses. The hedge dad and I had planted six years ago looking like it was the ass-end of winter and not mid-summer.

The sound of the water can hitting cement was moment I realize I dropped it, and somehow water on my sandals made it real. I bolted inside, slamming and locking the street door and yanking the blinds closed after me.

I ran from window to window, checking and locking them. A glance out the living room windows showed that the Mr. Robertson and the Ao family shouting at each other across the road. Every lawn? The whole street? I didn’t know. I was too scared to know. I closed everything I could as if that would be better than my own eyes and was triple-checking the front door even as the landline in mom’s office began to ring so loudly I half-thought it was emergency services.

A giggle escaped me as I pictured baffled police officers calling in old lady gardeners, but the ringing didn’t stop.

I took the stairs two at a time. “Amari. Who is –.”

“Have you been outside?” Ms. Anchor all but screamed in my ear. She’s three doors down, and mom politely called her a study that many papers would love to report on.

I winced. “I saw our garden. Mom and dad are out of town –.”

“My Raymond was right: the government is finally acting! Don’t drink the water! Turn off your TV. They’re controlling us with our phone –.” There is a moment of silence, and then the phone slams down as her body caught up with her thoughts.

I moved to my parents room, opening the door onto their balcony. The six small pots were all dead plants. Beyond that: withered trees, scorched brown lawns. Everyone outside was moving slowly, questions and threats about the HOA giving way to the same confused fear vibrating throgh me. I stepped back, closing the patio and locked it. Yanked the blinds closed.

I sat down on my parents bed, staring at my shaking hands.

No one had called. Mom and dad would have noticed this when leaving, no matter their hurry. Conference or not, mom would have cancelled fights and hunted down the head of the HOA to demand answers about fertilizers in a tone no one would have ignored.

I wiped away tears. The garden had been mom’s pride and our collective joy. I stood, half-hoping to wake up from sleep and pinched my arm to no effect.

“Phone.” I bolted to my bedroom, turning my phone on. The local HOA message board was on fire with messages; three block radius that people knew of, and less terrible on our block. I had no idea what other places must have looked like, and less idea what to send.

A few local twitter hashtags had begun. #gardengate was being used by Eliza, one of mom’s friends.

I began to send her a private message when a stranger stepped into my bedroom.

Tall. I was tall, but this person was tall. Not thin so much as narrow, skin so dark it felt like their shadow was lighter. Long, dark clothing matched that. They didn’t move. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. My bones felt cold.

A sweaty hand pressed against my face, and let go a moment later.

I stumbled, staggered two steps and found myself somehow on my feet. Sand. Heat. The sun overhead, dunes around me. The air rich and clear, but I turned as quickly as I could to find a stranger staring at me.

This stranger was a good foot shorter than me, skin librarian-white with pale blond hair and wide grey eyes in a round face. He had on sweats, shoes and a large t-shirt soaking through with sweat as he tried to wipe sweat from his forehead.

“Stupid. Stupid,” he said softly, voice cracking a little. “We need to get away from me.” I stepped back as he moved toward me. “Don’t come closer.”

He stopped. “Please. The desert won’t be safe.” He held out his right hand. “I can get you somewhere safe.”

“I don’t know what is going on. I don’t know what you are. But I can damn well break your nose if you move closer.”

He vanished.

One moment in front of me, the next no one was there. No shift of light. No sound. No weird glow. Just gone.

I fumbled out my phone, turned on the map.

Sudan. I was in the Libyan Desert. Miles from any marker on the map.

I had no idea what roaming fees would be. Less how I’d explain anything to anyone.

I just stood as still as I could and gripped my phone carefully like a talisman I didn’t quite trust.

[cornishkat]

0010 Mission Report

Warnings:  Violence, death, swearing, explosions

You shouldered the door to the tower and on the second attempt it crashed opened to reveal the controllers slumped over their desks.

“Q, the controllers are dead, can you get into their systems?”

“Did you really just ask me that, I thought you knew better by now then to question my abilities”

“Calm down Q, I’m not casting aspersions on your abilities, I’m sure you probably designed the systems”

“No, I didn’t but yes, I can get into their systems.  I take it what you were sent to recover has already been taken”

“Yes, safe is open and empty, how did someone got here before me?”

“Well, I suggest you get out of there and get yourself back here so we can work out how to recover it”

“Working on that Q, there is bloody a foot of snow and the car you gave ran into difficulties”

“What do you mean ran into difficulties, what have you done that was its first outing”

“Technically it was not my fault”

“Bugger fault am I getting it back in one piece?”

“If you can dig it out of the snow then yes, probably”

Before Q could berate you any further you heard a noise coming from downstairs,

“Q I have company; I’ll get back to you”

Drawing your weapon, you silently left the control room and made your way back out into the corridor, scanning the stairs as you did. The noises continued from below and you could see movement as you positioned yourself with a view of the stairs.  You watched them circle the bottom of the stairs, trying to work out if they had the equipment, you were after. One of them stopped at the bottom of the stairs with his back to you, silently you crept down the stairs and after checking for his partner, snapped his neck before he even realised you were there.  Steeping over his lifeless body you swept the room looking for his partner.  You caught movement to your side and your shot had hit your target before you had even finished turning, as the second man fell to the ground you saw the silver briefcase fall with him.  Quickly grabbing the case you headed out of the building, snow still covered the airfield but it had stopped falling for now.

“Q I have the hard drives now get me out of here”

“Contrary to popular belief I can’t just magic transport out of thin air”

“I expect better of my quartermaster”

“And I expect my double 00s to not wreck every car I give them”

Rolling your eyes you looked out across the airfield and your eyes landed on the Cessna Skyline sat on the runway in front of you.

“Ok Q at least make yourself useful and get into air traffic control, so I have some clear airspace to get out of here”

“This may seem a silly question but can you actually fly a plane”

“We are going to find out”

“As always your warped sense of humour and flair for the dramatic never ceases to amaze me”

“Q just get control of this airspace for me and find me the nearest safe airfield to get me back”

Opening the door of the small plane you jumped into the cockpit and stowed the hard drives.  You had flown this light aircraft before but where was the fun in telling Q that, running through your pre-flight checks your attention was taken by a 4x4 heading across the snow cover airfield towards you.

“Q are we good to go, I need to get out of here now”

Patience double 0”

“Q I swear to god…”

As you looked back out at the 4x4 you saw it had stopped and there was now a goon with an RPG trained on the aircraft.

“Q, times up”

You started to taxi toward the vehicle, your only hope was to get enough speed to lift before you got to it or they fired on you.  Full throttle you skidded down the icy runway and just as you got within five metres you pulled back hard making the nose of the small plane lift into the air just as they took aim with the RPG, banking hard you skimmed the 4X4 and were forced back into the seat as you ascended further.  

“Q I need you to help me here”

As you struggled to level the small aircraft out, as you heard the sound of the RPG round hitting the tower behind you.  As you banked hard again the blast as the building exploded threw your aircraft into a spin and you struggled hard as you went into a nosedive.  As you steadied your breathing you heard Q’s voice in your ear.

“What is happening are you ok, are you out of there I’ve identified a safe airfield for you to land”

As the aircraft headed for ground and dense forest you wrestled with the controls and finally managed to pull out of the dive and back up to level out.

“So, Q where is this airfield and did you really ask me earlier if I could fly this plane, I hope you were not questioning my abilities”

“Nothing that you double 0s do should ever surprise me anymore, but you could have just told me that you can fly.  Sending co-ordinates for the airfield to you now and do do try and get you and the hard drives back in one piece”