#'alma this tells me nothing about the new chapter progress'

[guidingthulite]

Alma Tries (and fails) to write the next chapter of famed fanfiction This Is Like My Sister's Shoujo Mangas But Worse

extremely self indulgent rant (and the consequences of said rant) below

[aggieharkness]

Hay que encontrar su propio futuro

Summary: She never meant to hurt her family once more, she had only expected to wake up with a hangover not with someone beside her that was about to turn her entire life upside down. She never thought she would get a chance at a new life with someone so different and at the same time so alike. Can they really find a future together?

(The title has been changed, it used to be Shame on whoever invented Tequila but as the story progressed it didn't feel like the right choice anymore so I changed it.)

a/n:  Hello!! This chapter is much lighter then the others, let's give Alma a short break, so it's just bonding with some of her family. Bruno will come soon and don't worry we will talk about Mariano, just not here. I hope you like it and leave any comments if you would like me to add something to the story :) I'm Spanish so I used expressions from my own language. I'm afraid I don't know Colombian ones so I had to work with the ones that I know. If there are any Colombians out there that would prefer for me to change what I have written I would very gladly do it, but even so, I hope you like the ones I have used.��

warnings: none for this one. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Hay que encontrar su propio futuro

Before dinner a few words had been shared about what had happened after Dolores and Alma had returned. Rosa had been mad, which was to be expected, both at her grandson and her best friend, I mean, you don’t get to hear everyday that the woman who changed his nappies was now playing him and his private regions like a child with a new toy. She had debated for several minutes whether to faint or start throwing things at Mariano, in the end she had chosen the second option and well, she didn’t have vases any more and her favourite cucharón had a dent but it was all worth it. Her grandson was grounded for the rest of his life and beyond; he couldn’t go anywhere near Alma and she had asked Dolores to tell her abuela that they wouldn’t be playing cards or having coffee any more. The girl had been stunned to see that they hadn’t been kidding when talking about Rosa’s aim, she should go to the olympic games honestly. And so after having smuggled some arepas so he could take care of the couple of bruises he had from the cucharon Dolores had left an upset Rosa who she had heard sniffling alone in her house. She had wanted to say something to the woman but it would be of no use, there wasn’t a single thing she could do to change what had happened. She had refrained from telling Alma exactly the words Rosa had used for her, no need to upset her abuela even more, they had been best friends since forever and if Dolores told her all the names she had been called there would be no room for reconciliation, Alma didn’t take lightly when people insulted her.

Sitting at the dinner table there was some tension lingering in the air but nothing that could be considered stifling or uncomfortable, it was just there, it had been acknowledged that was it. Pepa seemed slightly lighter in her walk when she had first entered the kitchen and had even kissed her mother on the cheek leaving both her siblings with their mouth hanging open, they couldn’t even remember when the last time they had seen that had been, maybe on her wedding day? No, Alma had been too busy trying to calm the hurricane and chasing Bruno demanding to know what had happened; he had escaped her grasp only because she wasn’t about to climb all those damned stairs, gracias al señor there weren’t any in his new room. Julieta and Pepa had talked briefly, the redhead filling her sister in certain news that Alma had told her during the argument, including the bit of their mother not having been anywhere near the town during that first scare with Mirabel because she was making sure their home was safe even if it had meant risking her life. Poor Julieta had broken down at hearing those words, after all she had decided the second time not to send anyone to fetch her mother, she had kept her in the dark about it for years but Alma had been no better. So many secrets that even after the fall and reconstruction of casita hadn’t yet been told.

Tonight the places around the dinner table had changed and instead of having Alma at the head both her daughters had dragged her towards one of the sides and sat beside her leaving poor Bruno having to sit in front of them with Dolores beside him. Either they were cornering her to give her a third degree questionnaire or they just wanted to be close to her. Felix had returned just a few hours after Dolores had come back from Mariano’s place because he hadn’t had the heart to say no to his little boy when he had asked his papá to go with him to the jungle to look for animals. They had taken a wrong turn after only thirty minute in the woods and instead of heading towards the lake they had ended up in the middle of nowhere, but Felix wouldn’t accept the fact that they had got lost and Parce had to guide them out, he still had his pride. When he first started dating Pepa he had told her just how good he was with maps which she knew was a lie; on their second date they had taken a shortcut to get to Casita and ended up on the other side of the village with no food or water at four in the afternoon in August. Now he was sitting next to Agustín with Antonio on his lap chatting lightly oblivious to everything that had happened. Just chilling. In Alma’s usual spot now sat Mirabel with Isa and Luisa on each of her sides and Camilo at the other end in between her brother and mother. Dinner was… nice, not completely normal, Luisa would glance once or twice every few minutes at her abuela as if she wanted to say something but never uttered a single word, just continued eating her tamal. Something was wrong with her and Alma intended to find out what it was, if it was her fault she wanted to apologise and make it better, if not she needed to be there for her nieta. The food was exquisite, as always, and soon empty plates were placed on the sink with Camilo on washing duty today, Agustin, Bruno and Felix retiring to the living room to discuss last saturday's football match (Santa Fe - Deportivo Pereira, what a match) that they had heard on the radio; that magnificent contraption had been brought to the Encanto just a few months after the slit in the mountain had opened and after debating whether or not to get one, Alma was rather exceptical about getting one, they had managed to convince her that it would do her some good to listen to some music or radionovelas; most days now you could find it being moved from the kitchen to the living room to the bathroom and maybe even the garden. It sat silent on the counter now, the ladies left in the kitchen still sitting on their chairs as Antonio went to his room to play with his tios rats in their new playpen that in the end Bruno had to build with the help of Camilo instead. At least nothing had exploded and no hands had ended up being glued to the floor, only fingers stuck together, Bruno’s to be exact, but it was fine, they were free now.

Isa and Dolores looked at each other with raised eyebrows, moving lips and eyes towards the others that were left on the table, mischievous and contagious smiles spreading quickly over their faces soon reaching Pepa. Of course Alma picked up on all this and watched from the corner of her eyes how one by one Luisa, Mirabel and Julieta joined the others in whatever silent conversation they were having and to which they had obviously forgotten to add Alma in. They were planning something and she wasn’t sure she felt up to it, but a small sparkle of curiosity had lightened in her chest and she couldn’t help but wonder what had all of them so worked up. Suddenly her eldest nietas stood up and conveniently informed them that they were very tired and were going to bed; Alma didn't believe a single word, she hadn’t been born yesterday, but decided to just bid them goodnight and hope to heaven above that they wouldn’t cause any trouble during the night. As they rushed out of the kitchen a trail of tulips and daffodils followed the girls into Isabela’s room betraying the girls' excited state. She wasn’t sweeping that in the morning. Mirabel and Luisa muttered just a couple of minutes later that they had something to do in Luisa’s room, leaving at a slow pace just chatting about nonsense to try and give the impression that everything was fine, even though Luisa’s eye twitching gave them away no one said a thing. Looking back from the doorway towards the table she saw Camilo just staring with raised eyebrows and a confused look, a half cleaned pot in his hands and soap and water on his brand new yellow apron, courtesy of Agustin’s gifted tailor hands. Seeing that not even her troublemaker nieto was in on this whole thing worried Alma, her girls were always so well behaved but when they decided to do something it could go soooo wrong and be even worse than Camilo’s pranks. Isabela threw a cactus at Osvaldo’s face, that says it all.

Before her daughters decided on leaving all hurriedly to do God knows what Alma stood up and told them she was going to bed, that it had been a very tiring day and she only wished to rest. At her words both women looked at each other as if their plan was falling apart and tried to convince her to stay, but she wouldn’t have it. After assuring them that she would spend the day with both of them tomorrow she left the kitchen, crossed the courtyard and went upstairs. Whatever they had planned she was starting to suspect involved her and she didn’t know if she wanted to be part of it, but the corridor was empty when she got there, her room just a few feet away her door glowing softly casting golden shadows over the railing. On her way to it two strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist and lifted her off the floor, a surprised scream escaping her lips just as she was walking past Dolores’ room.

-¡Luisa! ¡¿Qué estás haciendo?! Put me down this instant.

-Sorry abuela, but I’ve been told to take you to Isa’s room. It’s a task and I complete tasks.

-You could have asked me to go there instead of almost giving me a heart attack! Bajame Luisa!

-Sorry, no can do.

So this did involve her, good, yeah, great. Fighting against her suprestrong granddaughter was futile, the girl simply placed her more comfortable in her arms so as not to accidentally hurt her and kept walking towards Isabela’s room. She would have asked her what she was doing in her cousin’s room if it weren’t for the very obvious reason that she had been hiding there to catch her while she was on her way to her room. She asked a couple more times to be let down but her words fell on deaf ears and so she just simply let her carry her like a sack of potatoes. Walking past Pepa’s, her own room and Julieta's, she noticed that both her daughters were following them with giddy smiles and whispered words. Oh boy, they were soooo grounded after this. Reaching the flower decorated door Dolores who had been standing in the shadows with Mirabel opened it and let Luisa go in first, the rest of the ladies following. Pillows, mattresses and blankets had been distributed all over the flower covered floor along with big suitcases and fabrics. With a nod from Isa her sister left their abuela gently on the floor, the woman quickly placing her hands on her hips and turning to look at them all.

-What do you think you are doing?

-Sorry abuela, Isa and Dolores asked me to bring you and I didn’t think of just simply asking you. I didn’t hurt you did I?

-Of course not, but you should have told me. This time I screamed but the next I might accidentally hit you and I don't want to. You could have given me a heart attack sneaking up like that.

-I promise I won’t do it again abuela, I swear. Solo… escucha.

Crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow she waited for someone to speak. Pepa nodded and quickly jumped in front of her mother waving her hands excitedly while Julieta helped her youngest daughter carry trays with snacks to the small coffee table they had brought from downstairs. In the living room the men were using random boxes to put their coffee and water on, no idea where their table was.

-You see mamá, we haven’t really sat down to talk, to just chat and have a girls night since we were little and given the very complicated day we’ve all had we wanted to just spend time together, with you. There’s so much we don’t know about you and we want to see, we want to learn who you really are. Qué dices, ¿te apuntas?

A sleepover, they had planned a sleepover for her. After the conversations they had had during the day she had feared they wouldn’t want to be around her for a while and she wouldn't have complained but them doing this for her, to get to know her aside from the role of mother, abuela and matriarch, to find out who Alma was… It warmed her heart knowing that even through it all they were still beside her and didn’t hold a grudge against her in the slightest. A heavy weight was lifted off her shoulders, one that she hadn’t noticed had been there in the first place, a few stray tears making their way down her cheeks but the smile that now graced her lips didn’t falter in the slightest. Her family was going nowhere. Words couldn’t explain how she felt and she was not very sure they would come out right now so she simply nodded, taking her daughter’s hands in hers, letting her guide her towards one of the makeshift couches. Who needs sleep anyway. Next to her Mirabel was talking with her eldest sister, she had even laughed a couple of times and Alma couldn’t remember seeing them so happy together since they were children but it made her smile knowing that things were improving between them, that they were building up a new relationship basically from scratch. She didn’t mind even if they didn’t utter a word to her, just being here made her happy enough if her family was happy as well.

-Bueno abuela, a little birdy told me that you were thinking of doing some… changes? - changes, what chang… Ohhh, so that’s all this was about. Of course Pepa must have told Julieta of her intentions of giving their mother a makeover and she had told Isabela who then just simply spoke to Luisa and Mirabel. They had possibly tried to tell Dolores but the girl already knew and they just simply formed some sort of plan to do it. No wonder Isabela was giving her such gleeful eyes.

-I didn’t say a thing. Pepa made the choice for me, didn’t you, cielo?

-You didn’t disagree. I honestly think you can do with a big change.

-So what If I said no, that I’m quite alright like this?

-We wouldn't believe it for a minute. You’ve been eyeing those pale pinks and fucsias fabrics down at the shop, we’ve even seen you reading the new catalogues. You want this as much as we do. ¿Por fis mamá?

-Why are you so determined on doing this? You could let Isabela give you a makeover instead of me.

-But I don’t want one. Please mamá, we’ve all become new people but you are still stuck in the past. We know that changing one's hair or clothes doesn't automatically make us a whole new person but it's a start. Let us do this for you.

Stuck in the past; she’s been there a whole entire life. Little details were different in her family, everyone had noticed how Julieta would often wear her hair down instead of up and would let her daughter's brush it and put flowers in it, just like when they were little; Pepa had changed her clothes and much to Alma’s first surprise now owned several pairs of pants that the village disapproved of but she hadn’t cared. Little things that others wouldn’t have paid any kind of attention to but to her family they were huge steps towards a better life. She had often wondered how it would feel to have skirts with beautiful patterns like Mirabel’s, to purchase linen and velvet and to have gorgeous outfits not just comfortable ones. The opportunity was standing in front of her wearing yellow and seemed far more excited than Alma herself.

-Alright. Do what you will. Just don’t cut my hair nor dye it pink or blue, please.

-We would never do something like that!

-Isabela has green hair, try again Pepa.

-Well we don’t plan on doing that to you, so relax and let the professionals do their job. - they were hardly even amateurs but she wouldn’t tell them that and risk getting in an argument that she had no desire for. Even if they shaved her head and gave her nightgowns to wear for the rest of her life she would indulge them. Anything to keep those smiles on their faces.

-What are you going to start with?

-Gossip. - of course, Dolores’ favourite sport and main hobby. - I’ve been dying to tell you all this and there’s no better moment than right now. Remember Oscar, señora Hernandez 's son.

-The one who wants to be a lawyer like his late father?

-That one, tía. Well… We know he’s engaged to Verónica. Well he’s going out with Blanca behind her back.

-Noo. You went to school with her, I never took her for the sort of girl who would go out with engaged or married men. - after having helped Isa carry all her suitcases to the centre of the circle Dolores had flopped next to her mamá who was busy undoing her mother’s hairdo.

-So did I mamá, but that’s not all. There’s rumours that they are going to run away the day before the wedding, escape from the Encanto and settle down somewhere else.

-He would never do that, leave a nice girl such as Verónica alone at the altar… Ay Pepa, careful with the hairpins.

-Your hair’s knotted, what am I supposed to do? Make them vanish? Just stay still and I’ll try not to hurt you.

-Why am I letting you, the one with the unruly hair, take care of mine, I’ll never know.

-I inherited it from you, so don’t complain so much when it’s your own fault I have such awful hair.

-I didn’t have exactly a say in the matter when you were born. Anyway, who did you hear talking about Oscar?

-Blanca y Verónica.

-What?!

-Pepa! My head!

-They know about each other? - her youngest daughter had the attention span of a fly when she was faced with such juicy gossip; her hands were no longer in Alma’s hair and the brush that she had been about to take from Isa’s hand was still with the young girl. Better get someone else to finish the job.- Did someone tell them about each other?

-They figured it out themselves after he told Blanca that he couldn't go out with her a few evenings ago and then saw Verónica going into his house. She just connected the dots after that and when she was sure of everything Blanca faced Verónica and they both realised that he was using them.

-Then he’s not going to marry either of them? What an asshole.

-Isabela, language, why do I always have to remind you to watch what you say.

-Camilo is a bad influence.

-She’s got a point there abuela. But no, he’s not going to marry any of them because… he’s gay and has been trying to cover it for years. Luisa and abuela set an example for others in the village, but his parents still don’t approve and so he decided on causing a scandal that would allow him to leave and begin a new life.

-He’s going to leave them both humiliated here while he goes away?!

-No. The girls plan on setting him up to get back at him for what he’s done. Maybe I ought to do the same with Mariano.

-Dolores, rule number one, we don’t talk about Mariano.

We don’t talk about Mariano, was that the new motto for this family? She wasn’t going to stop them if they refused to talk about him, she was still quite angry at him and didn’t fancy the idea of having him as a topic of conversation when she felt so relaxed and happy. No need to ruin this wonderful night. The girl muttered a soft apology before falling quiet. Mirabel being the observant girl she was, took on the turn of emotions and quickly stood up and dragged her to the back of the room where several trunks were resting against the wall talking about how she needed her help with something that was a surprise. By then Isa had managed to brush Alma’s hair. It descended down her back in soft waves of silver and rich brunette stopping near the small of her back, soft to the touch but thick in volume.

-I was thinking that maybe we could change your style up a bit.

-No cutting it. Your abuelo loved my long hair and I don’t want to change that.

-That’s fine, I’ve got several ideas for long hair. We could do another sort of bun.

-We’ve seen her in that already, clavelito. Anything else? - with a tray in her hands Julieta sat in front of her mother. Luisa who had remained in the background was now opening a small unicorn bag as she sat next to her mamá. Inside it were various nail polishes, files and stickers that the big girl was placing neatly over the floor along with a bowl of warm water with lemon and a tiny bottle of orange oil.

-Well, we could do a half up-half down mamá but it would knot her hair a lot.

-Why don’t you just braid it? - Alma’s left hand was placed inside the bowl while Luisa watched her abuela’s hair with narrowed eyes. - I do it every morning. It’s easy and cute, maybe abuela would like it as well. What do you think? - the question this time wasn’t directed towards her sister but to her instead. A braid… She used to wear them when she was younger and had enjoyed them quite a bit.

-I think it’s a wonderful idea, mi luz.

-Great, I’ll do a simple braid and see what we can do to it.

-Do to it? Now Isabela, you said-

-I was talking about flowers and decorations, that’s all.

The hair was divided into three equal strand of hair, one with silver so glimmery it shone inside the room like a candle, one with tiny streaks of both tones so long that it reminded Isabela of strings of thread able to mend and create, and one with rich brunette locks that remained youthful and strong even after all the adversity. Three strands that resemble each of her children as careful hands braided one in between the others over and over again, never one of them outshining the others. All as one. Mira and Dolores hadn’t returned yet from the other side of the room but laughter and soft jokes reached Alma’s ears while she let her two other nietas pamper her. Both her hands had already been in the bowl which now was on the table next to the candy, Luisa drying her skin with the softest towel she had ever had the pleasure of feeling against her flesh. If this is what heaven felt like she would gladly spend the rest of her life sitting here among blankets and cushions listening to everyone chat about nonsense. This was the life she had pictured for herself once upon a time, and at last even if it was rather late, she was getting it.

-What do you think tía, tighter or looser?

-That’s quite nice, yes. Feeling fine mamá?

-Como nunca. What are you thinking so hard about Luisa?

-I don’t know whether to use this ivory colour or this light pink. Which do you think would look more natural?

-Either of them is good, but how about indigo?

-Indigo? - she wouldn’t wear it often but maybe she could indulge her nieta every once in a while and let her paint them her favourite colour. Ever since she was little everything had had to be indigo, her bedsheets, her clothes, even her toothbrush had to be that colour and Alma hadn't minded back then; as the girl grew she had forced her to wear less strong tones of it or to change it to white but the girl had still managed to wear something in that shade and in the end Alma had given up. There had never been any need for Luisa to change that bit of herself, but she had complied with what her grandmother had said. Si, she could indulge her nieta and let her paint her nails in her favourite colour to make up for that mistake, one more to add to the list of the many that she had dicovered in these few months.

-Indigo. Or don’t you like it anymore?

-No, I love it. I have this super beautiful tone that papá bought me the other day, it’s brand new, I haven’t even worn it but I’m sure it’ll look great on you. I used to have a doll with a dress in this colour that’s why papi bought this bottle for me, he said it reminded him of me when I was a baby. Of course I didn’t rem… Sorry, I’m rambling.

-I don’t mind. What couldn’t you remember, corazón?

One more point for Alma. Julieta had briefly locked eyes with her mouthing a grateful thank you as her hand brushed some short curls away from her daughter’s face. All that was needed was time; time to make up for all the things she had missed, all the things she had forgotten, all the things she had done wrong. Just time. She wasn’t the only one who was grateful for finally being able to see who her family was; Julieta had seen quite an improvement in her mother’s behaviour towards her children; Pepa had continuously talked about how much time Alma had been spending with her as well; Bruno was the only one who didn’t have to worry about children of his own but he was glad his mother was trying not to run away or hit any of his rats with a broom, so in a way she was also taking more care of his “children”. Everyone was trying and they all appreciated the effort. From the corner of her eye she could see a bright rainbow shining above her head with small drizzling clouds as she watched her sobrina talk incessantly about how she couldn’t remember the doll or the dress, just the beautiful shade that she had fallen in love with while she shook the bottle of polish in her hand before opening it.

-I’m done. I thought a looser braid would look better on her since abuela has a lot of hair. We could lose a couple of strands on the front and give it a more messy look if she wants to.

-But wouldn’t they get in the way?

-In the way of what abuela?

-My rounds in town. I always end up lending a helping hand in whatever tasks are halfway done and loose hair would bother me.

-Then change the rounds. You don’t have to help the carpenter finish a project or get more fabrics for the tailor, that’s their job. Seeing you helping build a house it’s natural but why do you have to bring the fish to the fisherman or kill the chicken for the butcher.

-We have to contribute to the community and since I don’t have a gift that’s the only way I have of helping.

-Nonsense mamá. - Julieta’s fingers were playing with Luisa’s red ribbon as she talked with her mother with a frown on her brow. - You run the town, and helping once in a while is fine, look at Pepa, she’s much happier now that she doesn’t have to water the crops everyday. You’ve done enough for the village, just let them figure out how to do things on their own. We might not always be here to help them and if they rely on us too much it’s going to be worse for them than for us. You want to wear those loose strands, do it. I wear my hair down, why can’t you?

Maybe she should listen, this whole thing of getting up going to town and working her ass off was getting on her nerves and her body was complaining more with each passing day. Like always Julieta was right. She should have stopped a long time ago but fear that they would lose what she had worked so hard for, that their miracle, Pedro’s sacrifice would go unappreciated had prevented her from doing it. There was nothing stopping her now, not anymore and she had been through too much with these people to let them rule her life until her last breath. She didn’t have to give her life to them anymore, she shouldn’t have given them all she had when in return all she had got was pain and constant anxiety of not being enough.

-I know I should, but how? It’s almost impossible for me to say no when someone asks me for help.

-I had the same problem, abuela, but I’ve been learning not to let them overwork me. We can relax and meditate together if it will help. Every morning I take a long bath and just sit down to listen to the world wake up, and in the afternoons I sit by the river and let the breeze take all my problems away. We can do that together if you want, walk around the forest, swim in the lake, do anything we want just to be one with the world and ourselves.

-I would love to do that with you bichito. I’ll let you teach me how to swim if you want to go to the lake and in exchange I’ll teach you how to knit. I think I remember a little girl who used to ask me when the unicorns would come so she could see one and become friends with them. Maybe she can still get a little woollen one to sleep with.

-I thought you would have forgotten, I was like three but I still love them and I… I really would like to learn how to make one. I know I won’t be as good as Mirabel’s-

-But it will be yours. - the nail polish was still wet but neither of them cared much, her hand cherishing Luisa’s cheek softly watching as the girl flashed her a genuine smile. Pepa couldn’t help it, she crawled towards her sister and held onto her trying so hard to keep her tears at bay but springing new rainbows out of iridescent clouds. From behind Isa saw the happiness her sister had been missing all this time, the chance to be with her abuela like when she was little before her gift had started ruling her entire world. Resting her head on her shoulder she looked at her beaming little sister.

-Yours will be great Lu, I tried to learn but was completely useless. All my stars would end up looking like balls and I never managed to finish the turtle Lola wanted so much. You’ve always been better at small things that require patience than me.

-See? All the things you do will be just as wonderful as Mirabel’s and Isabela’s.

-I’ve always wanted a pink and blue unicorn with a white horn. I used to draw them in my room after school. I’ll make one for each as soon as I’m capable of getting it right.

-I don’t doubt it. How about you let me paint your nails while Isa finishes my hair. I'm a bit rusty but I’ll try not to get too much polish on your skin.

If Julieta didn’t feel like she was about to burst of joy she would have let tears fall down her cheeks, but not to worry Pepa was doing it for her, fat hot salty tears that made her eyes sting, but she couldn’t and wouldn’t stop them or the soft rain that was falling over her and her sister along with bright rainbows that didn’t stop forming and vanishing with each passing second. They should have started having sleepovers years ago. After blowing at her nails a few times Alma took the bottle off the floor and took her nieta’s hand in hers tracing each nail with small short strokes to give her a clean and smooth colour.

Isa rearranged strands that didn’t quite fit with what she was aiming for until she was happy with the finishing result but she still felt like something was missing, like she needed something to top it all off. Looking up at her ceiling she saw her hanging vines and roses around her chandelier, a small little lightbulb lighting up inside her head. With a small discrete wave of her hand a small line of little green and pink hydrangea appeared on the back of Alma’s head, right at the beginning of the braid; that was quite an improvement but she still needed something to bring more colour and so a small blue Orchid made its way to one of the sides, a golden Calla Lily to the opposite one. Looking at her work from a foot away she realised that although they were small enough to be worn without the possibility of them bothering Alma each were unique and the colours belonged to the eldest members of the family. Maybe she could do something for the rest and so a little purple Ballon Flower sprouted in between the other two and in a zig zag pattern an orange Carnation was placed underneath the Orchid, a Blue Columbine blooming underneath the Lily, a Bleeding Heart in between with some droplets of water still sliding over the red petals. At the end of the braid a white camellia was tied to the string that held the entire hairdo together. Almost all the grandkids were taken care of, each with their unique gorgeous flower except for Mirabel. She couldn’t quite give her an outstanding plant for herself, after all she was a mix of everyone. A few minutes passed before an idea struck her and small little forget-me-nots sprouted all over the remaining bits of hair along with a couple of white daisies. They were small and light and didn’t make the braid look too crowded, simply unique, just like her abuela. Raising her eyebrows towards her mother and tía to get their attention both women crawled their way to Isa’s place to admire her work of art.

-It’s lovely mija.

-Si, le va a encantar.

-One for each and all together. I’m quite proud of myself to be honest. Abuela, I’m done, do you want to see it?

-Yes, please, I can smell the flowers so I guess you’ve done some of your magic on me. - picking up her hand mirror from her suitcase she handed it to her before diving back into it to look for her bigger mirror. After shoving some brushed out of the case and handing some of her makeup to her mother she was angling the mirror so Alma could see. It took several tries but soon enough her abuela asked her to stop. - Hold it there, don’t move. Oh… Oh… Isabela it’s beautiful, so gorgeous. The colours, the flowers themselves… The daisies… I have you all in my hair as much as in my heart. Thank you, I would wear it everyday if I could.

-You can; come to my room every morning and I’ll do it for you. I sometimes do mamá’s hair and Mira’s, I can spare enough time to do yours and if you want to change any of the flowers at any point I'll be more than glad to do it.

-I’m taking you on that promise. Tomorrow morning I’ll be up and about and waiting for you to do my hair. Are you sure?

-At what time do you wake up?

Another point for Alma, good job. Isa put the mirrors away but not before her abuela had turned her head to kiss her nieta’s cheek. Returning her attention back to Luisa’s hands she didn’t see the blush that spread over Isa’s face as she put everything back inside her suitcase. This was a small change, they hadn’t even cut her hair but having it out of its usual confinement and brushed into this amazing hairdo she couldn't help feeling that she was already a new woman. Luisa’s nails were done in a matter of seconds both women comparing the way the colour matched their skin and how well they had managed not to get too much paint on their skin, laughing quietly at the worst looking ones in Luisa’s hands. Even in their bad shape they still brought a smile to her nieta’s face and she wouldn’t change anything from this moment. The sound of something heavy falling in the back of the room disturbed the moment, making them all raise their heads towards the two girls that were now heading towards them with tons of fabrics in their arms.

-Are you done over here? Are we ready for stage two?

-There are stages? - Dolores was taking more and more fabric from Mirabel’s arms so the girl could take a closer look at whatever she was holding as if she had just finished fixing something and wanted to make sure it was fine. She wasn’t looking at them but Dolores was practically beaming.

-Not really but sounds fancy. Are you done?

Julieta and Pepa nodded, giving them the confirmation needed to start spreading outfit after outfit over the blankets and mattresses forcing Luisa and Alma to stand, the second one with a wide open mouth simply staring at what they were showing them. Stunning blouses and shirts with gorgeous lace details and embroidered butterflies and little candles, long and flowy skirts with gradients in pink and hand sewn drawings that Alma knew Mirabel had done. Was this all for her? Since when had they been planning on doing this, they couldn’t have done it in this short time. They remained in silence watching how Alma was crouching towards one of the dresses, her fingertips brushing over the fabric gently feeling the embroidery under her hands. It was a deep shade of quinacridone magenta sewed in satin with black and golden butterflies and several layers under the skirt, a simple bodice of solid colour that instead of finishing in Alma’s usual high neck now finished in an astonishing ruffle in a semitransparent kind of fabric with a round collar the outfit wrapping up with a pair of angel sleeves. It was the most splendid dress she had ever seen, better than any other outfit she had ever owned in her entire life.

-Do you… do you like it?

-Like it? No, I don’t. I adore it. - she hadn’t seen how Mirabel’s face had dropped for a second before breaking out into a delighted smile and a ridiculous dance that Alma was not seeing, still too taken by the dress to focus on anything else. - For how long have you been working on this? It must have taken you months.

-Weeks actually, papá helped, but it’s okay I didn't have much more to do. I was planning on giving it to you on your birthday but now seems like a better moment. Would you try it on? I’ve had to work with measurements that might not have been exactly correct.

-You made this for me. I can’t believe it, I have never had something so magnificent in my life but I’m so glad it came from you, mariposa. Help me put it on?

In under a second Mirabel was by her side lifting the gown off the floor and giving it to her mother, Pepa’s hands working swiftly on the buttons while Mirabel helped Alma get her dress off careful not to ruin her hair or newly painted nails. Standing in the middle of the room in her shift was not how she had expected to find herself tonight, but at least she wasn’t getting naked for a man and after the last couple of days that made quite a nice change. Both of them helped her get into the new one gently so they wouldn’t accidentally rip the fabric with her Victorian boots that didn’t fit with the outfit at all, they would have to get her new cooler shoes, Mira buttoning up the bodice and tying a lace belt Alma hadn’t noticed before. A quick twirl was all she needed to fall in love with it. It was light even with the layers the skirt had, and it seemed to fit like a glove, her neck free of any stifling materials and her arms free to move as they pleased. Even after seventy five years of life she could still pull it off. It was modest, didn’t show too much of her, but so different from what she was used to, it reminded her of something she would have worn when she was younger and she couldn’t be happier. The old Alma would have made a comment on how pretty it was but that would have been it, she would have refused to try it on saying that it was not suitable for a woman like her, the new Alma didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone thought, she felt like a princess and wouldn’t change that feeling for nothing in this world. Her granddaughters soon were around her complimenting her, making comments on what could be added and giving ideas on what other things she could wear Alma promising to show them how well the rest of clothes fitted. The sisters sat aside Juli brushing Pepa’s hair while the redhead tried to find a nice blush to use on her dark skinned sister both watching the scene wishing they had a camera to capture this moment.

-We should have paid more attention to how the people were treating her. We could have had a mother this happy if we had known what they were saying and doing.

-I know Pepi, but at least we have her and we can change things for her. No more running around until exhaustion and no more being used as a mule. None of the girls will allow it but she has to learn to say no on her own. Luisa is doing it and they seem to really want to get to know each other.

-We won’t have to worry then, she wouldn’t let anything happen to her abuela, she won’t let people bother her in the slightest but we should keep an eye on things for the time being, until we know for sure mamá won’t betray herself. I mean it’s fifty years what we have to erase, it won’t be easy.

-But we seem to be on the right path. - Dolores and Mirabel were holding their skirts loosely in their hands trying to follow their abuela’s steps as they danced admiring every movement Alma’s new ruffled skirt made and loving how merry each twirl made her; Luisa and Isabela were dancing their own choreography underneath a soft rain of poppies and morning glories all of them half whispering half singing the words to a song neither Julieta nor Pepa could hear, not that they minded much. All of their gifts were shining like bright stars around their abuela; they didn’t need Dolores’ super hearing, she loved to dance just as much as she loved gossiping, they didn’t need Luisa’s strength, they admired much more her kindness; Mirabel didn’t have a gift like her uncle or cousins had but she had many other qualities that counted as gifts just as much as anyone else's even if they hadn’t been granted by a magical candle. If only she had seen all this sooner she could have avoided them so much pain. Looking up at the ceiling the petals of the flowers brushed against her skin as she carried on dancing feeling that the woman her husband had married, the woman Mariano had shared a bed with, was now here to stay. No one or nothing was going to stop her from finding herself and sharing it with her family. Petal after petal her eyes closed, her body falling still just standing there letting them wash her fears away as a bright radiant rainbow was being born in between the palmas de cera and the rocios de sol high above their heads. In the middle of a circle of lilies, orchids, poppies and daisies stood Alma Madrigal, a woman in love.

[jeidafei]

The Core Message of D.Gray-Man

In my opinion, every story has something to tell. So what is D.Gray-Man actually trying to show us beneath the layers of all this tragedy and deaths?

This is my wild guess!

P.S. This is just my opinion, everyone! Every story conveys several messages and we are all free to interpret what the core message is in each work of literature...or whether they have a message at all...(I believe they all do, though!)

What is the core message of a story? A very clear example would be Aesop’s fables, which all end with “The moral of this tale is...”.

Most stories don’t just shove the message right into our faces from the get-go. In fact, most stories didn’t set out to preach at all, and the authorーsometimes even unknowinglyーdevelops the core theme and message as the story progresses. And part of the fun for me as I read novels and manga is figuring out the core message stories are trying to convey.

As D.Gray-Man is still ongoing, there are possibilities of plot-twists and new revelations, so I’ll state my guess for the story as of now (Chapter 230). 

And most importantly, if you’re an optimist like me, this core message might have already ensured that D.Gray-Man will have a HAPPY ENDING.

Though it does not necessarily mean Allen will survive, though...

1. Denying the Fate of an Exorcist

The message is there from the very beginning.

Yes, the bomb dropped pretty fast. Too darned fast most peeps including me wouldn’t notice. I’m talking waaay back into the first volume. Over a decade ago. We folks might not recall much, but we'll definitely remember this signature quote from Allen:

"Fate has got nothing to do with this. This is the path I chose by my own free will."

Yes, folks! The BIG SPOILER BOMB has dropped. This whole manga is all about....

                                                Fate Versus Choice

In this scene, Allen is denying what the Grand Generals and Cross Marian have told him: that by being born with Innocence, his fate had been set in stone by God himself, and to fight to the death as an Exorcist is his destiny.

Allen, however, assures Mana that he walks this path for he himself had chosen it. To atone for Mana. To save the suffering souls only he could see.

He's not doing this because Godーbecause Fate forces him to. It’s his own choice.

Allen's choice to become an Exorcist is what sets him apart from most ーif not allーExorcists from the very beginning. Other Exorcists usually joined through pure necessity or by being forced to fight by the Black Order. It’s more like can’t help it and I’m born to do this rather than I chose this. And this, as Dumbledore would put it, makes all the difference in the world.

And though some of them, like Lenalee and Kanda, later embraced their fate bound by Innocence, it's only due to having no other choice; Lenalee knows she can't keep living her daydream of a world without Akuma, and finally accepts that the only way she could protect her world is to fight.

Meanwhile Kanda first accepts his Innocence solely in order to survive and find his lost love, then later to repay Allen for his kindness. After he's done with that, then he can finally get his long-overdue rest in peace. Krory destroys Akuma to make sure Eliade didn’t die in vain. Miranda can’t make herself useful otherwise. Timothy has to leave the orphanage due to the danger Innocence brought to those around him. And so on and so forth.

Allen, on the other hand, probably could have gone on living normally even with his arm activated; Cross had simply asked him whether he would like to be an Exorcist. Despite all his misfortunes, Allen had what the other Exorcists-to-be don’t: a choice. And he made it: He decided on his own to become one and atone for Mana, then later to save the Akuma, and eventually to fight alongside his friends. That is his sole purpose. Allen will not choose another path even if it is open to him, as I will talk about in the next point. 

Had they not possess Innocence, Lenalee would have chosen a normal life in China with Komui even after her parents had died. Kanda would have chosen to run away with Alma and Marie and start a new life. Lavi would have gone on training to be a Bookman. Krory stated himself that he would be content to stay locked up in that castle with Eliade forever. Miranda would have chosen anything else, any job she could do well. Timothy would have chosen to stay on at the orphanage with Mother Superior and Emilia, etc.

2. Denying the Fate of the Fallen One.

When Allen's left arm was destroyed, everyone thought his fate had been sealed. It's over. He's not an Exorcist anymore. He’s fallen. Bak Chang offered him many choices: he could walk a different path, become a Finder or some other support staff. I think he could even leave the Order, actually, seeing as nothing else binds him to the place, and be whatever he wants.

But Allen instead chooses to stubbornly walk forward on this road, even with no hope of regaining his arm, refusing to bow down to fate.

Later when he faces the destroyer of his arm, Tyki Mikk, once again in Noah’s Ark, he states that one does not cease to be an Exorcist when one’s Innocence is destroyed. He then demonstrates this by repairing his broken Innocence using nothing but his own willpower. Nothing, even destroying his arm, will stop him from pursuing his goal as an Exorcist. 

3. Denying the Fate of the Host

Yes, Allen never seems to get a friggin’ break. Right after the Invasion, he starts to learn that his beloved Mana might not be what he thought he was at all.

This is a very, very devastating blow to Allen’s personality and development. His whole life had been built around this illusion, this mask of Mana he cherishes.

He chose to walk this path primarily because he wants to atone for Mana, after all. He hates the idea of succumbing to fate, so he chose to be an Exorcist that fights with his own free will, instead of bowing down to the Innocence’s (or, in other words, God) will (that’s why he won’t let Suman’s Innocence kill its host).

Allen soon learns of his true fate: his fate is to disappear and make way for the 14th Noah to use his body to reincarnate.

But still he refuses to surrender and go quietly into the night. When Link brought him some porridge in jail and confesses to him about the Thirds, Allen said this one sentence that deeply moves Link:

“If only I knew, then I would be able to change something, wouldn’t I?”

Exactly, by trying to learn more about it all, Allen hopes to change his fate. Yet again he does not obediently accept his fate. He then leaves the Order to do so, vowing to Lenalee that no matter what fate throws at him, he will always remain an Exorcist, as he has finally found his home amongst his comrades in the Order. He also refuses to accept his fate and disappear even at Cross’s insistence, as he believes that if he continues to walk he might be able to change his fate, or at the least inspire those who walk the same path as him to fight.

Don’t stand still. Keep walking has always been the words Allen lived by, and may actually translates to Never stop fighting against fate. By coming to a stop on your path, you are accepting that fate no longer has a future laid out for you, and you simply await your end: your chance to change things is zero. By going on, walking on even when the end looms ahead, there is still hope for a better tomorrow.

And as Cross most wisely and beautifully put it: Our path is not laid out before us from the start; but the earth hardens and forms into our road after we have walked upon it. He is saying that there is no such thing as fate; our lives are decided solely by our own choices.

Really, the Hallow OP said it all:

「誰一人邪魔をさせるか。初めて自分で選んだ道だ」

I won’t let anyone stand in the way...of this path I first chose for myself.

4. Link’s confession to Kanda

This recent(?) piece of evidence is what seals the deal for me, actually. The penny drops in this scene Link confessed he fervently hopes Allen will be able to win against the fate of the host:

"There’s someone I want to save...

If heーif Allen Walker could really triumph against his fate as the host...then I want to be there to see him make it.

If it’s true that people could choose any future they want simply by following their hearts, then I want to know the source of their strength."

In my opinion, when Link said there's a person he wants to rescue, he is talking about Tewaku. He's hoping to see Allen win against such a hopeless fate, so he could finally believe in the power of choice himself, and use that inspiration to spur himself to save Tewaku and his remaining Third friends. Link, though he had started to have doubts about Lvellie, is still too weak-willed to openly defy his fate as Lvellie's dog, and relies on Allen to make him believe in himself. And if my noobie writer's sixth sense is to be trusted, THIS scene confirms that the core message of D.Gray-Man is indeed trumping fate, against all the odds. 

And this is why I say DGM would probably have a happyーor at least bittersweet ーending: Even though DGM has always been a very tragic manga, the message of friendship, love, sacrifice and perseverance in the face of impossible adversity is always portrayed as having an optimistic outcome. Characters may die or suffer a lot throughout the series, but every arc ends on a positive note.

This is what sets DGM apart from stories like Attack on Titan, whose message is cynical and pessimistic, and if any dude starts spouting idealistic crap you might as well just stick a death flag on his head, and not a single arc ends positively.

Hoshino-sensei herself said that no matter what happens, Allen will always have friends by his side. You won't see that kind of heartwarming note with AoT. So if the core message of DGM is winning against fate, you can be quite sure DGM won't betray it and will show Allen winning against fate in the end.

5. Even his personal motto confirms it.

The latest guidebook, Gray Log, has revealed Allen's personal motto: To wait for fate is to wait for death.

Exactly, Allen. Literally. 

6. Even his fate as the host is something he chose by himself

Yes, this is the real deal. This is why I say that there is no such thing as fate for Allen; even the so-called fate he is fighting to change right now is actually brought about by his own choice.

Other reincarnations of the Noah have been doomed by random; no-one knowingly becomes one (pretty much like the Exorcists, come to think of it!), but in the case of Allen (if that past!Allen really is him) he willingly chose to become one. Why? I’d guess that maybe he believed that by doing so he could help Neah save the world...help change fate.

The Allen of then already knew the Earl is the enemy of mankind, with his soul-sucking powers. His purpose has not changed, be it 35 years ago or now; he wants to save the world from the Earl, and now he’s going to learn why he brought this fate upon himself.

In the end, after he has learned the Truth, Allen may no longer be an Exorcist in the sense that he fights on behalf of the Order and dons the black coat, but in the sense that he fights to save Akuma and mankind alike, just as he had decided when he regained his Innocence.

Allen’s journey, from the time when he was Red the circus errand boy, has always been one of finding his true home and family. Now that he has found his second true home amongst his Exorcist comrades, he will not let his fickle fate tear it away from him.

(NEW!) 

7. The Mask of Allen and Red’s determination

I stumbled across this one while finishing my translation of Lost Fragment of Snow.  

As I mentioned earlier in Number Three, we now know that Allen’s current personality and motivations are mostly shaped by his determination to atone for Mana: The Mask of Mana. He doesn’t care that much for God or the Holy War or whether the Order wins this war; Remember, he refused to help the Order’s cause by being just any support staff; he just wants to save souls (and later humans) as an Exorcist. In this way, Allen’s worldview is perhaps just as particular and narrow as Lenalee, and that is why during his training to restore his arm, Lenalee’s question of “When you close your eyes and think of the world, what do you see?” constantly had him thinking hard, and finally adding humans to his world as well.

Back to the Mask of Mana. We now know that Cross despises that mask and torments Allen because 1) It’s payback for having him mopping up his two icky Ps and nursing him for months 2) He’s a d-head and d-bag 3) Because he likes his share of booze and boobs and 4) Because he wants Allen to drop that mask and be The Boy With A Red Arm once more. 

(Why do I not simply say Red? Because actually in the Japanese text of LFS and D.Gray-Man, Red is actually just “The Boy with A Red Arm”. It’s in BRACKETS. Yes. He has NO NAME AT ALL.  For the sake of convenience I’ll go back to calling him Red for now, but we must keep in mind that Red is not a proper name.)

In Lost Fragment of Snow, Red is initially a silent, traumatized yet unusually perceptive kid. But his true personality shines out when he starts befriending Mana after Allen the Dog’s death. Just like how Allen gets frustrated by the irresponsible, improbable Cross and yells at him occasionally, Red also loses his temper with and bossily mothers the distracted, naive, slightly amnesiac Mana. The more I read LFS, the more I notice the similarity between the rant-mode Allen to little Red, and normal Allen to Mana back then. 

But Allen’s mask has existed long before Allen turned Mana into an Akuma. His first mask was the Mask of Allen.

After a fiasco in the circus during which Red lost his temper with Mana and pummels him on the head with his dormant, Innocence-embedded arm, Mana became entirely amnesiac, forgetting even his purpose of searching for Neah, and even confusing Red for his dog. 

After an enraged Cross blames Red for Mana’s plight, an extremely guilty Red decides to play along as Mana’s dead dog Allen in order to payback to Mana and Allen for the simple love and happiness they showed him. That is how Red donned his first mask and adopted his first name: Allen Walker.

Why is all this important? 

Back when Red faced impending death, thrown into a lion cage, Red was thinking in frustration and despair about how his life is meaningless, his existence pointless, that he is helpless and powerless, simply waiting to be killed. During his childhood in the circus, Allen/Red repeatedly lamented having no power to change his own fate. He yearned to escape the hellish circus and make a better life somewhere, but with his disabled arm he was unable to do so. 

Evicted from the circus, and with the circus later destroyed by the Millennium Earl, for a while there Red had no clue how to proceed with his life. This is no different from the time Allen lost his arm and had no clue how to keep walking on. But then Red saw the amnesiac Mana and remembered how he destroyed him, and decided that atoning for Mana will be his new reason to live on.

Yes, Redーnow Allenーhas always lived to fight fate when it dropped him into terrible spots, to find meaning for his life. And that journey has led him through THREE turning points on his road, after all of which he still chooses to live to atone for Mana Walker. 

But then, along came Neah’s resurrection and the unfurling truth behind Mana. And now that (in the latest chapter) this Boy With The Red Arm has returned to Eddystone (which is actually Edinburgh according to lots of our dissatisfied readers XD), where he had first donned his mask of Allen Walker, he must question his reason for living and take action one last time to change his fateーand perhaps finally live for himself. 

After listening to the theme song for D.Gray-Man Hallow, I must say that though the anime’s quality (and decision to replace Ms. Kobayashi) might be up for debate, this is the best and most relevant theme song for Allen. 

Key-Bring it on, My Destiny mainly talks about the Path of One’s life, of choosing between crossroads and keep walking on with free will. Once I was researching suicide in Japanese culture, and I came across an interesting explanation of the importance of The Life Path for Japanese people. The Japanese of old seem to view life as one single path set out for them. Once they came to a standstill or hit a wall in their way, they feel as if their life is over, and thus many chose to end their lives. Unlike western culture, the Japanese do not seek an alternate path.

In my opinion, the concept of walking on one’s road and challenging that road is becoming more and more significant in D.Gray-Man. Allen has always been very fixated on one goal. He viewed his life as one road he cannot deviate from, and falls easily to despair whenever it seemed he could no longer live as he had chosen to. Cross reminds him that his life path is not straightforward but meandering. One’s fate and life goal can change during the course of one’s life. And understanding that, Allen finally sets out to face the truth behind Mana so he can decide what he should do next with his life. 

The concept of living on by yourself after the death of your loved one has always been another central theme, obviously, of D.Gray-Man. Allen early on said he came to understand that the tears of Akuma are not tears of hatred, but love and grief for the bereaved who could not find the strength to live on alone. But Allen himself is still unable to move on from Mana. In a sense, with Mana living inside of him as his Akuma eye, with Allen “wearing” Mana like a human suit, Allen is an Akuma himself. And thus his story might end with him exorcising himselfーby finally stepping out of Mana’s shadow, putting the past to rest, and freely choosing his own future.

End of uber long rant. Will add more when I could think of more XD

[thelouisianauproar]

Louisiana Uproar - Chapter 15

Summary: Tensions rise after the organization becomes fully merged;  Ray asks a personal favor; Dottie uses coercion to get the business she wants. 

We scheduled the series of meetings to begin at eleven in the morning. It’s still too early and I’m hungover. 

“Morning.” I join the conference room. I’m early. After last night, my nervousness went away about the merge.

“So, you wanted to meet with me and Danna.” Ray starts the conversation. “Must have something good?” “Making some progress on the list.” “I see.” He tries to look in the box, I brought, but I jokingly hit his hand. Soon, Danna joins us. “Shall we get started?” “Both of your wives have selected the homes in Frisco Fields. You already know that since you are in the packing process.” I say, and they nod. “Enzo, Morty, and Pat will be looking today so I’m hoping to get something before they leave.” “Good work.”

“I want to talk to you both in terms of legitimate business.” Why am I so nervous? I go through the box and put some papers on the desk. “I thought about what can make money and yet, is low maintenance.” “Real Estate?” “Investing in Real Estate.” I correct Ray. “There is an office building in its final stages being built for a company called Frazier Real Estate & Investments. We already work with Cavar-”

“Whoa. What does he have to do with this?” I would tell you if you let me speak.

“We invest in them. We invest now. It’s cheap, up and coming  business. We have them partner up with Cavar. Watch them do well and we make money.” “Stop.” Ray puts his hand up. He looks at Danna. “If the business is the way it sounds. Could be pretty lucrative. Cavar’s doing well.” Danna hasn’t respond. He looks like he’s turning red. Ray glances at me.

“With everything that’s going on---this is what you’re thinking about? Legit fucking business?”  Wait, what? “Dottie. I don’t have time for your little adventures taking god knows what company and merging.  You got a merge right here.” He tries to breath. “You know who spends the money in this organizations? It’s not the people who were in the last fucking conference. It’s you! Get me something concrete.” My heart is pounding. I look at Ray, he’s calm. Danna storms out and Ray chuckles.

“You okay?” he asked, amused.

“I...don’t know what to say.” “Hmm. First.” He leans forward. “You talk to me, first.” “Okay.” Ray starts to look through the documents. “You’re looking at the big picture and I like that.” Good? “Don’t worry about him---let me look at these and I’ll get to work on the boss.” He stands up. “Communication is key for us, alright?” “Yes.”

“Ray.” I stop him. “There is one more thing. I’d like to hire another person.” “Can you afford it?” “Yes.” “Alright.” He leaves.

“Sorry I’m late.” I walk into the conference room.

“That’s fine.” He said, “I helped myself to more coffee.” “That’s probably good. I tried to condense these documents as much as possible.” I place the box on the desk and he starts to rummage. Easy pal, I organized those for a reason. I guess they belong to him now.

---

“Hey.” I say when Nicki opens her office door.

“Hi.”

“I stole one of these expensive champagne bottles from the hotel. I-” I see Mortimer come out of her bathroom. His shoes are off.

“That’s great.” He wipes his glasses with his shirt. “What are you doing here?” I try to force a  friendly face.

“I wanted to get to know each racket-” I have to be host. I’m not entirely sure what he’s said. I wasn’t paying attention. This is a sign that I need to be alone.

Nicki brings a glass to me and Morty. His shoes are off.

“Thank you.” I pause, “I should get going.” “Are you kidding? You drove here!” Nicki paused, “have a drink.”

I don’t know. If I leave now, I have to deal with perceptions. Fuck it, I forced the drink down.

“I have to go. I thought I saw you eyeing it.” “Have a goodnight, Dot.” Don’t call me that, Mortimer.

“Thanks, you too.” I rush to the door.

---

The meetings are almost past us. I have to meet with Mortimer to discuss the documents, and transition. I hear the door to my office open. I glance over and see Ray. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He says, “You sure I can’t mandate that you move? I saw alligators out there.” “You know there are alligators.” I walk behind my desk. I don’t feel like playing these games, Ray. “This is also my personal life---Why did you come here? Where’s Danna?”

“He and Morty are on a tour today.” Oh, that’s right. “Something eating you today?”

“No. Is Danna still mad?” “He’s mad about everything. I told you, I have a job here, too. I’m working on him” He puts a folder on my desk. He plops in his normal seat. “Hey, I agree with you. Did you hear me say I don’t agree with you? I agree with you.” I take it that he agrees with me. “Talk to Mory.”

“I have degrees in this, Ray.” I start to raise my voice.   “So does he!” Ray matches my tone. “And he in charge of this.” He pulls a cigarette and he lights it. “Now, fix your face.” What’s up with him and telling me what to do? I turn back to my to-do list. “I want to talk to you about the new position. I have some one.” “Who do you have?”

“Enzo Balsamo’s daughter, Camille. She’s just dropped out of school-” He has no respect for me at all.

“This is my job--- a very important one. “ I breathe. “Or you tell me this is not an experiment.” I shake my head. “She’s a smart girl. There’s gotta be something she can help with.” “Let me think.” I say, “For now, I would like you to leave.” He nods and prepares to go

”Hey, I’d see this as a personal favor.”

This just isn’t going to be my week. My next meeting is with Mortimer.

“Good evening to you.” he greets me. “Welcome to my humble home.” I am sitting on my desk. “How was your tour?” “It was great. Danna told me all about your plans for the city.” He gives me a thumbs up. “It’s really hot out there. Could I get some water?” Fuck you. “My kitchen is back there and to the right. Help yourself.” I watch him leave and return. To clear my nerves, I start my cigarette. “Did you have a nice visit with Nicki?”

“Yeah, she really is a great girl. Whip smart.” I know that. “Thanks for bringing the champagne.” Again, fuck you.

I am stuck in a meeting for at least two hours with Mortimer! It’s important that we discuss these things, but I can’t stand the sight of him.  The phone rings and I hope it’s an emergency, so he can leave.

“Dottie Jetson’s office.” I answer the phone. “Hi Dottie.” I hear a feminine accent. It’s southern. “How may I help you?”

“Are you alone?” “Not yet.” I look at Mortimer. “But you will be.” “Soon.” “I can be there in twenty.” “For what exactly?” “I want you, Dot.” She bluntly states. “I’ve been watching you in those meetings. I can’t take it anymore.” “Really?” “Really.” I check my watch. I look at Mortimer. Oh, this is too good. Too bad I want him on my side. “Sure-----I’ll help.” I pretend as if this is about business. She hangs up. “Morty it’s getting late and I have someone coming in.” “Say no more.” He stands and collects his items. “I was going to invite you to dinner.” “Sorry.” I pause. “How about lunch? Then we’ll find Danna.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I walk him out and down the steps. Morty stops for a moment and turns to me.

“Dottie, before I go.” What now? “I know you don’t like me.” “Morty. We just worked together for two hours-” “No, I understand it. This was your operation. Nicki, Emmanuel, Alma---they did what you said because you understood the numbers, and in a way that they can’t.” He has my attention, now. “Now, I come along with a bunch of other guys and The Don acts like you aren’t the expert.”

“Morty, as you can see, by the last two hours that we’ve spent together. I have the same confidence in you.” “Good. I have confidence in you, Dottie.” He says, “That’s why I think we should alter your business plan for the Don.” My arms cross and I step closer. That son of a bitch was just buttering me up so he can change my plans, again. “Currently, you want, what? To open an investment company in the Don’s name for you to manage?” “That’s right.” “Open it in your own name.” He says, it’s almost as a matter of fact. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it.”

“I hadn’t.”

“Why not? Dottie, this is what I can do for you. You and I have the same age range, the same education.You know New Bordeaux’s operation better than anyone. After Clay axed the last regime. What you don’t have is the experience of the mob.” I can’t argue with him there. “I will only approve your proposal---if you put in your name.” “Why?”

“It’s insurance. It’s great that you know this place, but with experience, so will I. I don’t know about the working man, Dottie, but the thing about the mob is: you work your ass off thinking there will be a payout, there won’t be, they will just keep your working hard until your body gives out.”

“What are you saying about insurance?” Morty chuckles. He puts his hands on both of my arms. “I am saying that you make the money, kick it up to Danna. You already know you’ll be running the company. He won’t be able to deny what you earn. Insurance.” He’s right.

“Alright. I will do that.”

“We have a deal?” “We have a deal. Thank you, Morty.” “I really see us getting somewhere, partner.” That’s a vote of confidence. We shake hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Certainly.”He enters the back seat and is taken away. Now, I have to prepare for Nicki.  

It doesn’t take long before she’s at my door. “Hey.” I greet. She lets herself in and I’m sure to lock the door behind her. “I’m surprised you called.”

“Why?” “I was having a bad day.” I sigh, “I figured nothing would make it better.” I pour two drinks from the bar and she hugs me from behind.

“Let me try.” Her soft kisses plant on the back of my neck.

“So, what had you so upset?” Nicki asks, after she’s had me.

“Hmmm.” I chuckle. “Where do I start?” There is a silence between us. I look at her and she’s waiting. “Have everyone here. Mortimer taking my job so I can be Ray’s little bitch.” “You were so jealous when you came over that night.”

“I was…surprised.” “It was just a conversation.” She turns to face me. “He likes you. He asked if you are single.” “Oh?” She lights a cigarette. “And you let me come over here after your meeting with him. You dirty bitch.” She teases.

“Nicki.” I sit up to start a cigarette. I pass it to her. “It feels like he’s taking things from me.” “Dottie, you need to be on the inside.” She pauses. “You know, Alma would be reluctant to admit it, but you were the leader of the pack.” “Thanks,” I chuckle. “Ah, I should nice of Mort. I need him.” “Well you saw me first.” I did.

“How’s Enzo?” “He’s fine. Old school, but I can handle that.” “Ray wants me to hire his daughter.” We exchange looks before laughing about it.

---

In the afternoon, I have my meeting with Danna, Ray, and Mortimer. The topic was my investment proposal. It amazes me that The Don and Ray require Mortimer’s seal of approval over mine. Anything I say, they look to Morty for endorsement. Nonetheless, Morty signed off on everything.

“Good work, kid.” Ray comments as I stand to leave the conference room.

“More to do.” I shrug. “Don’t leave yet.” He puts out a cigarette. “Did you think about Camille?” “Yes.” “Verdict?” “I want to speak with her.” “That’s promising. I’ll have that arranged.”

---

There he is, Travis Cole, the owner of Frazier.

“Good morning.” I greet pleasantly, when I’m let into his office.

“Ms. Jetson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stands and we shake hands. Wow, he even looks me in the eye. I don’t get that often from the working man. “Could I offer you a drink?” “Only if you have one.” “It’s ten in the morning, but I think I can do that.” He brings back two drinks and sits with me. I look at his wall at the collegiate decal. “I attended Brandt too.”

“Finance 1960. What about you?”

“Finance and Stats, 1966.”

“Overachiever.” He nods. “How did an accountant become a reporter?” “I’m not a reporter.” I try to speak in a bubbly fashion. He doesn’t seem surprised. “I really do have a finance degree.” “I see.” He leans forward. “So what do you want to discuss?” “I see you’re moving to Downtown.” I start. “It’s a nice spot.” “Thank you. It’ll be nice to expand---closer to the New Bordeaux bigwigs.”

“Isn’t that any CEO’s dream.” We chuckle. “It’s a big jump---to a building of your own.” I take a drink. “How much do you think you’ll expand in the next year?” “...You sure you’re not a reporter?” He looks slightly surprised.

“I’m not. I just think you’re decision to build upon Marcano’s old building was opportunistic, and yet, too soon.” He’s silent. “What if I told you...I can get you an investor, a partner, and expand your employees in the next year?” “And how would you do that?”

“Glad you asked.” I start to go through my files. “Did you like working with Cavar Construction?” I put the business plan on the table. He opens and starts to read. “You want us to merge?” “Just a few projects---and we can go from there.” I shrug. “It’s a win-win, he builds and creates structure. You get people to invest. You make Danna a large shareholder and there will be an endless supply of structure being built.” “How were you able to figure all these numbers?” “Not a journalist.” “Naturally.” He pauses. “Dorothy, I have people that I have to run this by. I need time. I don’t even know who David Danna is.” “You’ll find out.” I pause. “Here is my card.”  

That was easy. After my inaugural meeting with Mr. Cole, I have lunch with Camille Balsamo, Enso’s daughter. She’s waiting for me at a diner in Del Ray Hollow. I want to know exactly how she handles balck people.

When I enter, I see her. She sticks out, but she doesn’t look nervous---at least not nervous to be the only white person.

“Hello.” “Ms. Jetson. Nice to meet you.” She stands and we shake hands. Good. “Thank you for arranging to have us here.” “Certainly. Please sit.” I want to get to know her. She’s nineteen, yet she feel so much younger than me. I guess seven years is a lot.

---

It’s amazing how much change occurs in a week. I have employed Balsamo’s daughter, Camille. I set her up with a nice desk adjacent to mine---just like Vito had for me. She seems willing to learn. Plus, I worry about hiring someone who isn't legit.

My team is making movements and there is still much more to do. When everything slows down, I planned to go back to Washington, D.C to visit. I promised my father that I would.

“Dorothy Jetson’s office.” Camilla answers the phone. “Please hold.” She transfers the call to my desk. “Travis Cole.” “This is Dottie.” I answer.” “Greetings. It’s Travis Cole.” “Mr. Cole. It’s been a few days, I was worried that you’d forgotten about me.” “Oh no, how could I forget a meeting like that?” I chuckle. “I’ve thought about your offer and I have one of my own.” “Do tell.” “I’m gonna get out of here around 6pm. Why don’t you meet me at Duffy’s in Point Verdun? We can talk further.” “A bar? Interesting place to talk business.” “See you there?” “Sure.” I hang up. “Could you tell Ray, I have a meeting with Travis Cole. I’ll fill him in in the morning.”

“Sure.” “Mr. Cole.” I greet him. He’s playing pool and having a drink by himself.

“Travis. Dottie, it’s good to see you.” He brings his attention to me. “Could I get you a drink?” “I can get one.” “I insist. I’m a gentleman.” He leaves and returns with a drink. “Do you play?” “Oh, I imagine I’m a little rusty.” I shrug, “but if you’re looking for a challenger.”

“I’m sure you’re nothing short of formidable.” “Thank you.” I chuckle. “I see his left hand as he’s racking the balls. “You’re married. Any kids?” “Two.” He smiles. I knew that. “I’d ask you but you don’t look a day over twenty.” “Twenty six. No kids. No significant other.” I shrug. At least no official significant other. Nicki comes to mind.

“Keep it that way.” He jokes.

Travis Cole seems like a cool guy. We play a few rounds and just relate to each other. He seems like someone that I would want to be friends with. That would be if I had friends outside of the business.

He’s from Connecticut and went to school here. Travis has been CEO of his company for the last seven years. His wife is a french second generation immigrant, and they have five and three year old sons.

“This place. Y’know, back in my day---we used to come over here and get drunk with the Irish.” “I believe the frat boys did the same in my day.” I pause, but decide to add, “black folks not allowed.” “Ah, you don’t seem like the type who listens to rules.” “Very astute. I’ll have you know that my rebellion is fairly recent.”

“Hmm. Were you with Marcano?” My heads snaps to look at him. “See? You’re not the only one who can find things out.” “I wasn’t.” I guess now is the time to start to talking business. “You, young lady, you’re excellent. You literally excel.” He starts, “Your offer is literally everything I see for my company, but it seems too much like selling my soul to the devil.”

What a disappointing answer. He is still speaking to me, but my thoughts have drowned him out. I think of Marcano and what happens when someone became useless to him. I’m sure that Danna, Ray, and Marcano are birds of a feather. Who am I worried about? Trav or me?”

“You seem disappointed. I’m sorry for that.” “I just...you have such a bright future.” I start. “I worry about what will happen to you...if you weren’t to take this offer.”

“I’ll be fighting just as hard as I am now, and for a lot longer.” Don’t be so sure. “You really are a lovely woman.” He puts money on the table. “Thank you for tonight.” “You too.” I look at him. He gently pats my shoulder before leaving.

---

My heart is in my stomach as I drove to the Ray’s house, the next morning. “Dot! Good morning. You hungry?” Ray comes down the steps. “I’m fine.” I force a smile. “:Alright.” He takes a seat. “Let me know if you change your mind. So, your meeting with Cole?” “He declined.” I rip the proverbial band-aid off.

“I see.” He nods and crosses his legs. “What are you going to do about it?” What? “I’ve worked hard to get Danna to come around.” He uncrosses his legs. “I assume you came here to ask permission for what you know you have to do.” “Yes.’ “Do it.”

“Okay.” Ray pats the table.

“So uhh, how ya doing besides this?” “Alright.” “How’s Camille?” “She’s doing well. Thank you. I do like her.” A smile forms on Ray’s face. “Me too.” What? “I like what this favor will bring me. I’m cooking up something big, Dot. You getting that favor for me is big. I won’t forget that.” His phone rings. “Excuse me.” I take that as my cue to leave.

I met Bobby at Alma’s office in River Row. “It’s great to see you back.” “Thank you.” He nods. “It’s good to be back.” “Are we good as new?” “Ah, Dot. I don’t think I was ever that.” We share a laugh. “Your girl says you have a special assignment for me.” I put a file on his desk. “I need him to comply, but I don’t want to hurt him.” “I don’t know how much assistance I can be there.” “I’ve already thought of it.” I start. “I need the details, supplies, and the back up.” “I’m listening.” “Travis Cole is the CEO of Frazier Investing. He doesn’t know it, but he works for me.” I say. “I need to know when he gets home, his family schedule, what his wife does.”

“You got it.”

---

I don’t think I can feel my heart as we pull up to Travis’ home. I can hear Bobby sigh as he looks at the house.

 I paid to have someone tamper with Mrs Sarah Cole’s vehicle---just enough that she would have to pull over. One of my guys would take about thirty minutes to fix the issue, now her husband is all alone in his home. 

“He’s alone in there?” “Yes. Shall we?” “We don’t hurt him.” “Well, depends if he acts out.” Bobby shrugs, “but we’re burning daylight.” No time like the present. I look at the rear view, there are two cars behind us for security. We step out of the car, up the driveway, and Bobby gives a stern knock.

Travis opens the door and his smile quickly fades away. “Dottie, I-” “May we come in?” Bobby doesn’t wait. He lets himself in and Travis doesn’t fight. I follow Bobby. “Shut the door, will you?”

I take a seat on his couch. Travis shuts the door and I gesture for him to sit. He’s speechless. “You know what this is, Trav.” I start. “I know you to know I can get to you anywhere.” That’s Bobby’s cue. He inject him in the neck.

“Hey, relax man.” Bobby catches him as Travis starts to fall to the floor. Bobby sits him down. “The paralysis will take hold.” It does. Trav sings in his seat and I stand. I’m thinking of the words. I rehearsed for the last few nights.

“I can’t imagine how you’re feeling...like your family is due at anytime. What will we do to them? Nothing. We just want you.” The fear in his eyes. “You will merge with Cavar Construction, and your company will get fucking rich.” I nod. “You belong to David Danna now and we won’t abuse that.” Like I am, right now. “Hey.” Bobby leans in front of him. “Blink twice if you hear her.” Travis blinks twice.

“Blink three times if we have a deal.” Travis complies. “Good. Let’s get him to bed.”

With that, Bobby carries him to a bedroom. We assume the biggest is the master bedroom. “Trav, Sara had car trouble, but she’ll be back soon.” I take a seat on the bed. “Just tell her you aren’t feeling well, take the weekend to rest and think. I will see you on Monday. Do not try to run, do not involve the cops. It won’t work.” I say while Bobby undresses and tucks the CEO in.

“Blink twice.” Travis complies again.

“Goodnight, Travis.”

I can only imagine the fear he feels, right now. It’s been a few hours, he should be mobile again.

I know this feeling, the feeling that I have disdain for my own power. This feels like the night we sunk the “Delphine” ship in the Bayou. Yet, this is more personal. I stripped Travis’ manhood.

[rnufharose]

Final Fantasy XV Novelization

Chapter 2 As we watched the warriors in the training hall, Sir Clarus began to tell us of the security measures and precautions that would be taken during the treaty signing ceremony. It was up to Sir Clarus to protect King Regis at all costs and he told Gladio that he had to keep Noct safe not only as a shield but as a friend. "Yes, Dad," he bowed down before his father. "And also," Sir Clarus added with a smile. "Do mind your manners around Alma. The poor girl is going to be around four men throughout the whole journey." I blushed at the thought and shook my head to clear everything away, "S-Sir Clarus!" "Not to worry, Dad," Gladio stood tall again, smirking. "Not only is the Prince in good hands but so are the others," he met my eyes. "Alma included." Before I could scoff and turn away, the doors opened and in came the Marshal of the Crownsguard, Cor Leonis. He is one of the three strongest warriors within the guard and has one many battles, earning him the nickname "Cor the Immortal." He was a decade younger than Sir Clarus with short black hair, blue eyes and he always carried his katana around. Accompanied by the Marshal was a familiar face I knew all too well. No one could miss his blonde hair, his big blue eyes, those freckles and his sweet mannerisms. It was my friend Prompto Argentum. "Pardon the intrusion," Cor walked over to us. "I thought it appropriate that our new recruit met with the captain." "Not at all," Sir Clarus replied and looked to my friend. "You're Prompto Argentum?" "Y-Yes sir. Pleasure to meet you, sir." He saluted him. There were times when he would get shy and uptight and it was sort of amusing. Prompto's eyes wandered behind him, meeting me and Gladio. "Ally, Gladio!" he smiled. Gladio placed his hands on his hips. "What are you doing here?" "He's here for his Crownsguard uniform," I answered. "He passed the written exam and completed his self defense classes." "He's an excellent marksman, he is," Cor glanced at our friend. Sir Clarus presented Prompto with his garb, "Here you are, my boy. Now," he looked to me and Gladio. "Cor and I have some business to attend to. Why don't you kids go and have fun? You're dismissed from your duties today." "You sure, Dad?" Gladio cocked an eyebrow. "You don't need help anywhere else?" "I just need you to be on time tonight. You, Iris and I are going out for dinner before you help Prince Noctis clean out his apartment." "Understood," his son nodded and turned to me and Prompto. "Let's go." We followed the big guy out of the training room and into the corridors. "Can't believe I'm going to be with you guys tomorrow," Propmto smiled, looking down at his new clothes. "It's sweet that you want to go as Noct's friend," I chuckled. "but you'll do a fine job in protecting him." "Are you going to wait for him?" Gladio asked our newly recruited friend. "No, actually," Prompto shook his head. "I'm going to go home and show my parents my new garb. Then I'll be coming over to his apartment." "Sounds good," I replied. "You've earned it." "Just hope they'll be home when I show this to them. But if not, I'll come right back to the Citadel," he gave us a thumbs up. He began to walk towards the elevator. "Anyway, see you guys soon. And Gladio, send Iris my regards." "Will do," he chuckled from behind me. Once Prompto entered the elevator, Gladio and I were left alone and the corridor became dead silent. My heart started fluttering and I tried with all my might not to clutch my chest, listening to Gladio's footsteps as he made his way in front of me to look at me. "Why so quiet, baby girl?" he asked. "Don't call me that," I grunted softly. He laughed, "You always look so flustered. Anything you wanna tell me?" I sucked in a breath and looked up at his dark eyes, "No." I began to walk past him. "Where are you heading now?" Gladio asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his leather trousers. "I'm going to see my parents. I haven't seen them since last week." I answered. I found the doors to the office of the ruling council, several middle aged and elderly men and women were dressed in the gold and black robes identical to that of Sir Clarus' garb. At the sound of the door closing, two people looked up from their paperwork and walked quickly towards me. One was a tall man with shaggy black hair and stubble and grey eyes and another was a woman with long brown hair and hazel eyes. They were my parents, Eques and Femina Integrates and they were the youngest members of the ruling council, my father being forty and my mother being thirty seven. "Ally!" Mother breathed and hugged me tightly. "I've missed you so much. I'm so sorry we haven't been home." "Mother," I smiled softly, hugging her back. She pulled away and Father pulled me into a hug as well, running his hand through my hair, "Please forgive us, angel." He had always called me that for as long as I could remember. I pulled away and shook my head, "No need to ask for forgiveness, Father. I'm a Crownsguard too. I know how hectic our duties can become." "We've been taking extra security measures for the ceremony," Mother explained. "We've decided that the Kingsglaive will be tasked to protect the Citadel. Most of the soldiers in the Crownsguard will be looking after the citizens. As for your father and me, we will be protecting His Majesty if there are any complications." "Sir Clarus told me about that," I nodded. "And your duties are to protect Prince Noctis," Father held my hands. "Be careful on the long road." "I promise," I replied. "Gladio," Father looked behind me. "I know you've a duty to protect the prince but take care of my little angel, will you?" "Of course," Gladio bowed. "I won't let any harm come to your daughter." I sucked in a small breath and met my parent's eyes, "And you take care of yourselves as well..." "We promise," Mother nodded, kissing my hair. "Right," I furrowed my brows, "I wish...we could spend some time together before I leave tomorrow..." Father placed his hand on my shoulder, "We will once you come back from your journey. Just stay with Prince Noctis tonight. He needs you more than ever." I spotted this sort of sadness in their eyes. I already knew something wasn't right about them. It was as if this would be the last time we saw each other again. However, I didn't question them and hugged them again, making sure that I could stay in their arms one more time. "You are a daughter of House Integritas," Father muttered into my ear. "Wear your name with honor and pride." After what felt like an eternity, I pulled away from their embraces gently pulling my hands away from theirs. I turned around, my eyes resting on the door. My walk towards them felt like some long journey and I pulled them open by the handles, Gladio walking behind me. When we reached the elevator, I pushed the button to the ground floor, and we stepped inside, an ominous silence enveloping us. "You okay?" Gladio broke the silence; I felt his dark eyes looking towards me. "Yeah," I murmured, looking to my feet. "I'm fine." I heard him shift and I watched as he crossed his arms from the corner of my eyes. "You worry too much," He chuckled gruffly. "Our little gathering tonight will make you feel better." "I hope so," I stepped out of the elevator once it opened, spinning to face the big guy behind me. "Have fun with your dad and Iris." He gave me a kind smile, "Thanks for that. I'll come by afterwards." My cheeks flared at his very expression and I quickly made my way out of the Citadel to make sure he wouldn't notice. Once I reached the parking lot, I clutched my chest in an effort to ease my pounding heart. I hated this feeling, whatever it was. I asked the valet for my keys and sat in the driver's seat, heading for Noct's apartment. ***** The first few hours of cleaning out his apartment were filled with nothing but frivolity. I watched amusingly as Ignis tried to get Noct and Prompto to pack up but they were too busy going through the Prince's things, caught in the beautiful wave of nostalgia. "Hehe, I loved this comic," Noct smiled like a child. "I know right?" Prompto said giddily. "Best series ever!" Ignis gave a defeated sigh from beside me and I held his elbow, "Let them take it in. It's their last night here." "But we haven't made any progress," he frowned, gesturing to the living room full of half empty cardboard boxes. "If we did all of the work, Gladio would have nothing to do," I can't believe I said that. I wiped the smile off of my face and looked away. "Ally," Ignis observed my expression. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," I shrugged it off and began to gather the rest of Noct's clothes, music albums, comics and video games, placing them into each respective box. We were no where near finished but it helped me take my mind off of whatever I was thinking about. And then, there he was, entering the living room with a bag in his hand. "Gladio," Noct stood up. "How was dinner with your family?" "Great," he smirked and held up the bag. "I bought extra food from the restaurant. We can eat it afterwards." "Yum!" Prompto cheered and once again found the motivation to clean. Once the whole apartment was clean, we closed the boxes and brought them towards the front door, placing them into a truck that would take the Prince's belongings back to the Citadel. We spent a good fifteen minutes listening to Prompto strain and grunt and Noct was no better. Gladio effortlessly picked up three stacked boxes, earning a jokingly flirtatious comment from the blonde and the big guy just gave him a weird look. Afterwards, we retreated into the apartment to eat whatever food Gladio bought for us. Before we knew it, night broke through the day and the fact that this would be our last night in this place began to sink in. "I forgot how big this place actually is," Prompto commented, placing his empty white box and plastic fork into the trash bag. "We made a lot of memories here, huh," I smiled sadly. taking a seat on the couch. Ignis put his cellphone away, "The movers will be taking Noct's furniture back to the Citadel tomorrow." Noct gave a soft sigh, "Tomorrow is the day," he leaned back against the leather cushions. "I'm gonna miss living here." "You've got a bride to look after now," Gladio poked his head playfully and Noct swatted at his hand in slight annoyance. "No more living alone once you get married. Don't tell me you've never thought about it." "Hey, give me a little more credit than that," Noct grumbled. "I'm terrified. I don't know what to expect." I found sympathy in Gladio's eyes and he patted Noct's back, "You'll be okay. You've made it this far." "Wonder what it's like out there," I thought out loud. "Outside the city." Ignis pushed his spectacles up his nose, "I've studied the outside briefly. Culture outside of the city is thirty years behind what we have here. It'll be like looking at an old photograph." "I'll be taking a lot of pictures," Prompto grinned. "I want to keep a record of our journey," he looked up at the ceiling. "I'm so excited, I don't think I could sleep!" "Who said we need sleep?" Noct pulled out his phone. "Let's play King's Knight." Ignis furrowed his brows in confusion. "Right now? It's getting late. We need to be up early tomorrow for the journey to Altissia." Gladio laughed heartily, "Why not? It'll be our last night playing here." He shoved his giant hand into his pocket and deftly opened the game on his phone. I went into the pocket of my leather jacket and followed suit, "One last memory to share in this place." And then, Ignis gave a defeated smirk, joining the four of us in one last epic battle. The apartment was dark, our light being the bright white screens of our phones. We tried desperately to keep our voices down lest we wake up the neighbors but it was all in vain. Noct and Prompto seemed the happiest right now, beaming with their blue eyes eagerly fighting enemy after enemy. Ignis had stopped playing once the clock struck twelve, sleeping with his arms crossed as he sat on the chair. Noct was the next to doze off, his phone falling out of his hand as he fell onto the couch. Prompto was also battling with his fatigue but gave up once his eyes closed. His limbs were splayed out across the floor, his mouth slightly open. The only ones left who were awake were me and Gladio. I put my phone down and walked towards Noct, shrugging his leather jacket off of and placing it over his torso to keep him warm. He stirred slightly by still slept nonetheless, smiling in his sleep. He must have been dreaming of his fennec friend, Carbuncle. "Heh, they couldn't keep their eyes open," Gladio chuckled from behind me. I turned around, meeting his gaze, silent. He smiled in the dark and I looked away, facing the glass doors leading to the veranda. I heard his soft footsteps closing in, his physique towering over me, "You should sleep too, baby girl." "I told you before," I muttered softly. "Don't call me that." "I can't help it," he laughed again. "It just suits you." I closed my eyes, ready to walk away but his hand closed around my wrist. "Ally," his voice was low. "Good night." "Good night," I replied almost inaudibly and headed for the guest's room.

[occamsashes]

OA//:RECOVERED_FILE_3857D: HELIOTROPE_ITERATION_27//

// LOOP-OA1

27.01mk4 --- FISH TANK

Sound comes through the darkness. Again.

//

Light fills the void. Again.

//

E.C. Gordo opens his eyes as strands of reality bend and sway around him. At first he is confused, but as time and space slice through him, he feels peace. He notices an electronic-like buzzing echoing through his surroundings. Without moving so much as a finger, Gordo lives countless lives. He glimpses segments of past and future through his helmet.

//

He is eating dinner with a family. He is the family.

He is dinner being eaten by a family. He is the family.

He is a wolf in a pack. He is the family still. He is the whole pack. Why is he still the family?

He is a redwood, standing still for a hundred years. Is this his family?

He is every termite in every log in every forest. //

He is the will of the salmon. //

He is the earth’s magnetic field. //

He is every employee of an interstellar arms corporation. //

He is on a couch in a run-down, decrepit spaceship. The Pig bus.

//

Observing his surroundings, he notices a television screen. It is alite with an old film, jumping between dialogue as though speaking to him. E.C. tunes in, and slowly pieces together that the contraption is protesting the very idea of space travel. It says:

// Hello Gordo

// I’m Teevy

27.019mk9 --- TOO LATE

“Is it any better world than it used to be? I rebel against this progress. What has this progress, this world civilization done for us? Machines and marvels… They’ve built these great cities of theirs, yes. They’ve prolonged life, yes. They’ve conquered nature they say and made a great, white world.

//

Is it any jollier than the world used to be in the good old days? When life was short? This space gun business, because of this project to shoot human beings at the stars. People don’t like it, shooting humans away into hard, frozen darkness. They’ll murmur.

//

Now, suppose someone cried, “Halt, stop this progress!” Suppose I shouted to the world, “Make an end to this progress!” I can talk. Radio is everywhere, this modern world is full of voices. I’m a master craftsman I have the right to talk!

//

They’ll listen, trust them. If I shout, “Arise, awake! Stop this progress before it is too late!”

//

//

Slaveries they put upon themselves today, they will impose tomorrow upon the whole world! Is man never to rest? Never to be free? The time will come when you in your turn will be forced away to take your chance upon strange planets, and in dreary, abominable places beyond the stars.

//

An end to progress. Make an end to this progress now. Let this be the last day of the scientific age. Make the space gun the symbol of all that drives us, and destroy it!”

//

E.C. can not help but wonder if he too was forced away to take his chance upon strange planets. If humanity was forced to send him away out of necessity, or out of curiosity; out of opportunity. E.C. holds his head. The answer is yes.

//

//

27.028mk7 --- PROBLEMATIC

He notices something odd. He is not breathing, and the electronic-like sound coming from all around him is in fact coming from him. He feels panic, and the sound grows louder and louder. He feels the urge to breathe, but the capacity to do so has gone. Louder and louder. It is as if his lungs are no longer there. Louder and louder. The sound abruptly stops when he notices he is not alone.

//

A single cockroach skitters along the wall opposite him, and his mind is immediately taken over by the thought of himself occupying this bug. He is momentarily convinced not to kill it, but as it makes its way to a surface within arms reach, he lashes out, scared and confused.

//

In the split second between deciding to squash it and the act of squashing it, Gordo’s surroundings once again transform. A new face appears on the TV, and a voice suddenly resounds through E.C.’s head. It says:

//

I know that you’re smarter. Did your charter, Alma Mater, but do ponder on this monster and the lyrics that I offer:

I’m aware that you are given times to make your own decision, but I do highly suggest that you just give the R a listen.

//

You’ve been missing simple moments, honing cronies for the loaning, people owe you, you know younger-when you couldn’t feed your hunger. See, but I’ve got something greater, gain more knowledge than the papers, be unbiased, only knowledge-lawless chapters in Valhalla.

//

Tell me do you sing to suffer? Brothers, sisters eat their mothers. I’m the offer you must order so that you can spend your dollars. Caller one yes you’re a winner, caller two seems you’re a sinner, easy lying for beginners when I try to eat your innards.

//

So the life that you have entered spent a plenty under weather, not too pleasant it’s a shame that now your pool is often tethered. I don’t say to each the rich, but hey, a dollar tastes like fish and when you slice a benji frankie it is frankly quite delish.

//

These are words I do abhonder, ponder longer than the mongrel. Congress lies and so do you, so simmer down, your mind has wandered. Like I said just give a listen. Slipping slow so quit your pissin’, I’m the R, I see it all, and I’m the g that stops your bitchin’.

//

I’m not adamant of your arrogance. Bafflement from the flair of this. Radical, my righteousness. Advocate for my relatives. Adjectives upon adjectives. Problematic, the bastard, but rápido with that Spanish shit, so let’s go and let’s manage it.

//

Dammit, you just need to learn to speak your mind get your motives going out your way to learn your lessons, then forget them, then progress until we guess we never movin’ groovin’ backwards, manga chapters, digest stories till it’s boring cause it’s gory and just cliché on the replay, so you sit there and do nothing.

//

E.C. changes the channel. He is more confused than before. As if that isn’t enough, he then notices a severed human head on the floor.

After...

...staring

at it...

for...

//

several...

//

//

seconds...

//

//

//

the head speaks. “What the fuck are you lookin’ at, fatass?”

27.027mk1 --- LARRY

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, fatass?”

//

Taken aback, E.C. can only muster a quiet “eugh” sound.

//

“Oh great, you’re a vegetable.” The head takes a long inhale, much to E.C.’s further confusion, and slowly says, “Niiice tooo meet yooouu. IIII ammm Laaarry.”

//

Gordo responds again with a slightly louder “churf” noise.

//

“Me too, buddy. Me too. Aaaaanyway, that over there is Teevy... and we’re... uh, how you say, figments of your imagination.”

//

Gordo chokes, but manages to say “What?”

Surprised at the computerized sound of his own voice, he also lets out a small yelp.

//

“I said a few things mate, can you elaborate on what part you’re “what”ing?” Larry asks

//

“Where are we?” E.C. replies

//

“Dude I literally just told you I’m in ya damn head, how would I know about things outside your realm of thought?” Larry says

//

E.C. literally cannot argue with that logic, and there is a long pause.

//

Larry breaks the silence, “Can you remember anything?”

//

//

27.036mk9ver4 --- HELIOTROPE

Pacing through the ship, E.C. says he remembers that the word “Heliotrope” holds some significance, but he can’t remember any further information. He pictures the flower, and tries to create memories based upon it. Maybe one will seem correct. Was that his significant other’s favorite flower? Was it some sort of space thing? Gordo can barely keep his head up, but when his eyes close, he still sees what he would, were his eyes still open. It’s an infinite loop of imaginary realities.He gains no rest, and his mind cycles back to the flower.

//

E.C. - “I don’t know why it echoes in my head, but I can’t get it out, and the part of me that knew why is dead. Can’t get to sleep, can’t stay awake, can’t be alive, but I can’t be dead.”

//

Larry - “Oh, yes you can!”

//

E.C. argues with himself and Larry for hours. Teevy chimes in seemingly at random with strange distorted footage. It starts to become too much for Gordo to comprehend.

// IF IT CAN ALWAYS SEE THE SUN, IT IS ALWAYS TURNING

27.045mk21 --- LAX MODE PANIC

Finally overwhelmed, E.C. decides to hide in a closet, away from his two alleged “imaginary” friends. He grows anxious and afraid, the closet seems to close in on him, and he is taken to the darkest corners of his mind. He decides he cannot handle this, and the only option is suicide.

//

E.C. - “Reach into your mind, try to decide how to die.”

“How does it know I can only relax in panic mode?”

//

This last sentence is complete nonsense to him, further adding to his panic. If his own thoughts are not his own, how can he be certain he is still himself? His thoughts slowly turn from fearful to violent. Who is responsible for this? Where is he?

When is he?

Why is he?

//

Who is he?

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27.054mk6ver5 --- HOLD ON

E.C. - “I can’t take it, I can’t take much more.”

“I forgot how to be myself”

//

He rounds up his friends, and an old e-piano, and goes out into the vacuum. He plays himself one last tune to set the mood, and hits himself in the head with a can of crab juice. He feels his eyes get sucked out. He feels the very skin on his very hands boil and freeze simultaneously. And he hears laughter coming from Larry.

//

Shocked and angered, E.C. does not die, and Larry finds this amusing. Gordo throws him into space in a fit of confused rage. He immediately regrets this decision, and dives after him, scared. His own fear and anxiety distort space and time around him once more, transporting him through moments of human history, past and future.

//

//

27.063mk3 --- ANYWAY

He finally catches Larry, and takes a moment to calm down. He starts to notice the beauty of his surroundings, colorful nebulas, the sheer size of it all would be breathtaking if he could breathe. He begins to have flashbacks of his life, remembering more and more of it the longer he stays motionless and calm, floating in space.

//

He recalls moments of his time spent on earth. His brain

With friends, out eating and drinking. brought back

Hiking through the woods. from death

Going to space several times. by the AI

And a peculiar image of a brain hooked up to electronics. in his helmet.

//

//

27.072mk1 --- DO IT AGAIN

Filled with determination, he returns to his ship. He is determined to find earth by any means necessary. He rips apart the ship searching for clues. He finds several documents: sketches of himself, tall tales of his adventures across the galaxy.

//

“Have these things happened?” He asks himself, “I have no memory of this one” he sets down a transcript of an apparent interaction with what the author calls “duckosaurs” and just as he does, the technology on his wrist begins to spark and glitch.

//

27.081mk12 --- WARPIN’

He is suddenly somewhere else, again and again and again. Sometimes he is in many places at once, and as his eyes begin to adjust to one (three), he is zapped to another. He is running.

//

“What am I running from?” Turning to look behind him, E.C. sees dozens of unimaginable creatures chasing after him.

//

“Maybe… maybe I’m imagining this, too?” He tries to imagine earth, and just as he does, the warping stops.

//

//

27.09mk1 --- SEROTONIN

He opens his eyes, and he’s on the ship. Looking out the window, he sees earth. He imagines walking through a busy street, and just like that, he is on the planet. But it is not how he remembers it. Namely, the people are not people. They are a horrible combination of duck and dinosaur.

//

On the duckosaur planet, E.C. suddenly feels an immense pain in his head. The AI in his helmet has connected to an internet signal, and all at once E.C. knows the history of the duckosaur planet. He knows their customs, their way of life, and can understand their language. He asks around about “Earth” and comes to find that it has been destroyed by a black hole.

//

//

27.1mk2ver3 --- SLIGHTLY (COMPLETELY)

He imagines himself back on the ship, orbiting duckosaur world. He sits there, mortified, for what could have been months, years, or centuries. He can’t even maintain a coherent train of thought, as if several people are inhabiting his brain. But it’s just 2.

//

E.C. - “Everything I thought I was is gone.

     Everyone I thought I knew was lying all along.

    Everywhere I’ve been, and every time I go,

    Just doesn’t seem to matter anymore”

// HIS AI AND HIS MIND AGREE TO COEXIST

He decides to go through the wormhole. He will find earth. Any earth. by any means necessary.

//

He closes his eyes and imagines the void.

//

//

//

//

//

// Again.

OA//RECOVERED_FILE_3857D_S_REVERSIBLE_or_DISGUISED_TEXT//

[justball4ever]

This article was written by University of South Alabama Graduate Assistant Andrew Steele

  From my earliest memories, I knew I wanted to be a professional athlete when I grew up. Whether it was a basketball or football player was pointless, just as long as I was going to be able to play the game that I loved. However, for my first serious Career Day at school in 5th grade, I dressed up as a coach.

Not an NBA or NFL player, but a coach; football coach to be exact, wearing a Clemson hat (tough to admit that now considering this past football season, but it will ALWAYS be Roll Tide!). I guess I got it honestly, because my dad was a longtime high school basketball and football coach. Throughout this story, I will talk about the five lessons I have learned in coaching. Discussed in no particular order, these are lessons that I feel will help anyone aspiring to get into the coaching business:

Have Faith

Take a Risk on Yourself

Work Extremely Hard

Love Your Players

Find Good People to Work for and With

Fast forward to my redshirt sophomore season at the University of Alabama in 2010-11. After missing a majority of the previous season due to a stress fracture in my ankle and the first 13 of games that 2010-11 season, I had a lot of time to view the game in a different way. It absolutely killed me to not be able to play for over a full year, but what happened during that timeframe has changed my life forever.   It was during that period, one of the hardest of my life, that I discovered my true passion in life: coaching. I was typically a leader on all the teams that I played for, not because I was always the most talented, but because of my ability to connect seamlessly with my coaches and teammates. I considered myself a coach on the court, and I took tremendous pride in that role. So, it came as no surprise that once my college eligibility was up, the natural step would be to transition into coaching.   After my I finished playing in 2013, my plan was to stay on at Alabama as a Graduate Assistant. I had constant conversations with my coach, Anthony Grant, about my future after basketball because we thought that day had come a lot earlier than it actually did. The short story is that I had a concussion near the end of the 2010-11 season, and after constant monitoring throughout that following off season and summer, the symptoms never got better.   Thus, I decided to move into coaching, getting invaluable experience as a student assistant to start the 2011-12 season. In January 2012, I finally healed well enough to return to playing, but the coaching seed was already planted in me. So, when my eligibility was done, I knew what the next step was. At least I thought I knew.   Instead of becoming a GA, I took a job as a marketer with a nonprofit dental company, and traveled throughout the state of Alabama talking to kids about the importance of doing the right things. Part of my talk would be for me to incorporate my basketball experiences, and the talks would end with me playing basketball with the kids and signing pictures from when I played at Alabama.   I was never far away from basketball, even when I thought I wanted to be. The biggest blessing that happened was that my boss decided to keep me stationed in Birmingham at the last minute, instead of moving me to Huntsville as originally planned. That decision allowed me to be an assistant coach at my alma mater, John Carroll Catholic High School, and that experience as a coach furthered my conviction that coaching is what God is calling me to do.   My plan was to go back to UA as a grad assistant, but the head coach I worked under at JC retired and I was presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. I was offered my first head coaching job at the age of 23, and it was at my alma mater of all places. The same place that helped mold me into the man I am today would be the same place that launched my coaching career.   In the back of my mind, I always knew I wanted to coach in college, but the opportunity to be a head coach was simply too good to pass up. There are times that I question if I made the right decision, wondering if those two years at John Carroll slowed my progression through the college ranks. But, those two seasons as a head coach will stay with me for the rest of my life.   The lessons that I learned, both good and bad, both easy and hard, will undoubtedly help when I am someday a college head coach. It will surely help me when I am promoted to Assistant Coach, and it has definitely helped me in my current role as a GA. As painful as it was to leave John Carroll, I knew it had to be done if I were to ever fulfill my dream.   As I excited as I was to start a new chapter, I was equally sad about leaving my old one behind. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would get so attached to my high school kids, but I truly love each of them like the little brothers I never had. From coaching those kids, I learned firsthand that they do not care how much you know until they know how you care.   I know it is a coaching cliché, but kids can tell when you are genuine and when you are not. That group gave me everything they had, and I believe that a coach can ask for nothing more of his team. No matter how far I hopefully go in my career, that group will always hold a special place in my heart.   In taking this job at South Alabama, I have grown even more as a coach and person than I could have ever hoped to in such a short period of time. A major part of that is because of my wife, Brittany, who has been so supportive that words cannot do it justice. Without her, I would not have a great shot to be successful in life, much less coaching, so I can never fully repay her for what she has done.   My time here at USA has shown me so many things that go into running a college program that it even shocked me, and I considered myself an insider. Again, I would not trade these experiences, as I know all the things I have learned and the truly wonderful people that I have worked with will stay will remain relevant factors in my life going forward.   My advice to aspiring coaches would be to take a risk on yourselves and follow your dreams. No one on this earth has the ability to see into the future, so I believe that faith is extremely important. I am not one to quote Bible verses at the drop of a dime, but my relationship with Jesus Christ is the most important thing in life.   That belief in His promise is what drives me every day, so I know that I am in good hands all the time. So, while faith is important, faith without work is dead. If you want to be successful in this business, you cannot be afraid to take risks. And if you are blessed enough to land a job, work as hard as you can at the job you have.   Your work in the job you have is your best indicator of your potential in a future job, and you only get one chance to make a first impression. I believe that “luck” is when hard work meets opportunity, and there is so much beauty in that concept. We can control the hard work, but we cannot control who opens the doors of opportunity. The good thing for me is I know who does control those doors of opportunity, and He has yet to let me down.

  The post Five Lessons I Have Learned from Coaching appeared first on Basketball HQ.

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 Source: Ball4ever.com