#... saying she encountered a man talking to himself on a secluded path through a local walkway...

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Leaving work earlier, I got stopped by some of the other servers, who asked if I wanted a ride to my car since I'm about a quarter mile away and they park super close since they get downtown earlier than I do. I declined, because I really like walking. But they insisted, telling me how dangerous it is to be downtown alone at nearly 11pm. And like. I hike and camp by myself all the time. I take my dog on night walks in the more dangerous part of the city I live in if she needs walked after I work. I grew up in a crack house. I'm pretty sure I'm ok to walk a couple of blocks to my car, ya know? And realistically, what's someone gonna do to me? Steal my phone? Because here's the thing: Having grown up in a sketchy house, I know how to outdo random downtown crackheads. You just go fill psycho mode on anyone who tries approaching you. Nothing says "leave me alone" like responding to someone asking you to hand over your money with biting them, or growling and jumping around, or metal screaming while facing the moon. Even if I had cash on me and someone was trying to rob me, I can get out of that in any instance where there's not a gun by simply out-crazying the other person.

[moonlightxarcher]

Selene’s Log, Day Four

Update, 8:05 am.

“Bzzzzt, Roto Dex here! Soooo, Selene, you slept in last night. I wazz almozzt expecting you to be up an’ at ‘em at 6:00 am or something!” The Dex cracks a cheeky mechanical laugh, capturing the gentle half smile the researcher gives him in return.

“I merely wished to rest before my battle, Roto-san. It is important to get sleep in these moments before a difficult encounter.” A difficult encounter that was soon approaching. “Now, I believe Captain Ilima said this Verdant Cavern was just toward the back of Route 2? Can you see him, Roto-san?” Roto floats to her side, his camera picking up the winding paths before settling on a small nook opposite the Pokemon Center. Zooming in closer, he can see a small figure waiting by the entrance. “Yup! Got ‘im!” He salutes his partner, cracking another cheeky grin. “Man, I’m really excited for thizz! Your first Island Trial, it’s gonna be huge! You got a plan all ready?”

“Yes,” she nods calmly, her eyes closing for a moment, “I have outfitted my teammates with useful items and have prepared each of them for their roles. But I am counting on Lupa the most for this one. Whatever we face, I fear it may have strong physical attacks. That would mean her Fur Coat Ability would be largely beneficial to us.”

The two close in on Ilima, and it is not long before Dr. Selene Berlitz starts her first leg of the Island Challenge with Captain Ilima’s Normal Trial.

---

“Montage time!” Roto chuckles as the footage begins playing out on his screen of a brief conversation between Selene and Ilima, where he informs her that she must find and battle a number of Alolan Rattata before making her way to the far back of the cave and collecting a crystal embedded in the pedestal. The scene shifts to her exploring the cave, her voice muted by the rapidly rising background music that the Dex was playing. “Selene really had this tracking stuff down to a science! She could distinguish the Yungoozz denzz from the Rattata denzz with just a single look! But then those nazzty Team Skull guyzz tried to get in her way-” The screen cuts to a pair of Grunts trying to impede her progress, only to unintentionally allow her to track down and defeat an Alolan Raticate, which sends the goons running off in terror.

“Yeahh! Run away ya gooberzz!” the Roto in the video calls out to them, his waving red appendages falling in and out of frame. 

“With that, she was able to make her way through the cave eazzily, and soon found herzzelf up againzzt an abzzolutely mazzive Alolan Raticate! Thizz wazz the fearzzome Totem Pokemon, oversized Pokemon flowing with extreme power! It wazz a heck of a foe, I’ll tell ya that! I thought I’d be snapped in half with just one Bite attack! But Selene was prepared.” His camera pans around toward Selene, pulling a small blue capsule from her pocket and a red and white ball off her belt. She pops the top off the capsule and tosses the Pokeball forward, releasing Furfrou in a brilliant flash. The regal white dog is adorned with a fashionable scarf, a Silk Scarf that raises the power of Normal moves. She thrusts the capsule forward, flinging a small pill toward the Normal Type, who deftly catches it in her mouth and swallows. 

“She used that X Defenzze on Furfrou to make sure she could weather more hitzz. It was a geniuzz move! Without it, she certainly would have had some trouble.” Roto shivers as the footage plays out, the two exchanging blows briefly before a smaller Alolan Rattata appears, slamming into Furfrou’s side and bouncing off it. “Even though it had extra help, Lupa still kicked that Totem’zz butt!” He cheers, pom poms flashing on the screen. The clip continues, with Lupa beating on the Raticate and enduring attacks from both ends. At some point, Selene darts in during the lull in attacks to personally apply a blast from a Super Potion, but it may not have even been needed, as moments later both the Alolan rats lay on the ground defeated.

“And so Selene won her firzzt Z-Crystal! Now she can put that Z-Ring to work.” The Dex’s screen continues to display Ilima congratulating her for her efforts, and the humble Totem offering a gift of her own- the young Rattata she had fought alongside. “The Totem Raticate wanted Selene to take care of her baby, and who could refuse an offer like that?” The little Alolan Rattata’s data flashes up on screen. 

Name: Ro

Gender: Female

Nature: Bold

Characteristic: Strong willed

“She seemed really amuzzed when naming her, talked about rodentzz of unusual size or somethin’ like that. I didn’t understand headzz or tailzz of it,” the Dex mutters in response, his screen showing an emoji of a blue face scratching its head with a questioning gaze. “We ran into those futuristic lookin’ people again, and I gotta say they need to work on their greeting. Ya say ‘Alola’ while moving your armzz in a circle, not in a square!” The Dex huffs, somehow offended. “Anyway, the female one introducezz herzzelf azz Soliera and the male introducezz himzzelf as Phyco. They seemed pretty interezzted in Selene and what she wazz doin’, but I don’t know if we could truzzt them quite yet.”

The next scene plays out, with Kukui nearly bumping into Selene as she exists the cave- and he comes bearing bad news. Lillie’s missing!

“Profezzor Kukui said something about mizzplacing her around Route 3, so he wazz hoping that Selene would help him. After everything that had happened with lazzt night, she definitely wanted to help, I know I did.” The scene follows on with Selene traversing the winding rocky terrain, unfamiliar to her. But not to the local Pokemon. “So Selene getzz this great idea to have one of the local Pokemon help, and she findzz thizz Cutiefly that she challengezz to a battle and capturezz quite artfully!” And that Cutiefly’s data flashes on screen.

Name: Bylii

Gender: Female

Nature: Naughty

Characteristic: Sturdy body

“Though the crafty bug leadzz uzz on a bit of a winding path, she does direct uzz toward a secluded area where a lot of people end up when they get lozzt on Route 3, Melemele Meadow. That’s where we found Lillie!” The scene shifts to the girl in question, frantically looking between her bag and the yellow flowers. 

“Nebby, where are you,” she mutters to herself, gasping when she’s spotted by Selene. “You think you can help me find her again?” she asks the researcher, her big eyes wracked with worry. “I’m so sorry for being such a burden to you...”

“You are far from a burden,” Selene answers, already starting to walk away. “You are a precious friend, Lillie-san. I will not rest until Nebby is found.” 

“It’zz there that Selene getzz the aide of another local Pokemon, thizz time a kind little Petilil that wazz more than willing to show them placezz that Pokemon like to hide.” The data for that Pokemon flashes on screen too.

 Name: Lili

Gender: Female

Nature: Mild

Characteristic: Scatters things often

“That’s what brought us to the Seaward Cave, accezzed through a tiny hole that Selene could barely fit through crawling on her handzz and kneezz. It was cold and dark in there, so it’zz good that Selene’zz so uzzed to Sinnohan temperaturezz,” the Dex tries to crack a joke, but the humor falls a little flat. His normally cheery voice falls a little low and somber. “Something... Something happened in there. I’ll... I’ll show you what I can.”

---

Update, 3:28 pm.

“Anything yet, Carmilla?” The researcher calls out to her Zubat, flapping a foot or so ahead of them in the dark cave, guided only by the thin beam of light projected by the Dex’s flashlight eyes. The blue bat lets out a low cry- negative. Deeper and deeper they wander, relying on what little natural light was there and the young Zubat’s abilities before they found the cavern floor below them start to shake and sunder, cracks lining the walls and shattering small rocks-

“Izz it an earthquake?” the Dex guesses, frantically clinging to Selene’s back in an attempt to keep himself protected, his screen briefly darkened by the fabric of her shirt before she pulls him off. 

“It might be,” she mutters, the Rotom’s light casting a dull glare over her bang-covered face. “We must keep moving.”

Smaller quakes rock the group occasionally, but they keep advancing onward. That is, until they reach a rather deep, narrow part of the cave, hearing a rumbling roar. “A wild Pokemon?” Selene wonders aloud, but she is soon caught off guard by another vigorous quake, even stronger than the first. It nearly sends her to her knees, the Dex clinging to her shoulder in a meager attempt to keep her up-

And just as the quake seems to let up, Carmilla swoops down and slashes with her wings, blowing a gust of air hard enough to topple Selene back- narrowly avoiding a rock that would have crushed her. Another falls and cracks the ground just a foot away from Rotom. Another drops further away. “A rock slide!” Selene calls out, but the tumbling earth ranging in size from pebbles to boulders start to rain down, blocking off their path forward. The gang scrambles down the wayb they came, but just as it seemed like they’d reach the entrance to this narrowed tunnel, the way out crumbles before them. Quite nearly punching the very stone blocking them, Selene tries to keep her cool-

Only to hear the feeble cry of a Zubat, her left side crushed below a rock more than twice her size. 

“Carmilla!” Displaying the most emotion Rotom had ever seen on her normally impassive face, the girl that he suddenly remembers is only 13 years old frantically tries to free her partner, to no avail. Her cry of anguish rises like an ancient hymn as she struggles to budge the rock even a bit. 

One of the balls on her belt bursts open, revealing Strix the Rowlet. She releases waves of sharp leaves at the rock, but all they do is scuff the surface. Leafage just isn’t enough. “Please!” Selene calls out, “S-Someone get help!” She rounds on the Dex. “Roto-san, can you call someone? Do you have that function?” There is panic in her eyes, the normally calm oceans darkened like the beginnings of a storm. 

The Dex nods, “I’ll do what I can, Selene-” Only for a stray rock to fall and crack his screen, sending him hurdling to the ground. 

“Roto-san!” The panicked cry of a young girl in over her head is the last thing the Dex could pick up before the recording died. 

[eclairz1]

A Flip Zimmerman Fanfiction (2/5) Chapter 2:

They had two days, two days before Flip went to the first in-person meeting with the Klansman that Ron had been talking with on the phone. The team prepared with diligence, they looked up the name that the guy on the phone had given Ron, the bar he asked Ron to meet him at, went over the transcripts of their conversations over and over again, debated on what the contingency plans would be, how to get Flip out of there if anything went wrong, best and worst outcomes.  

The hours were grueling and demanding, they often didn’t stop for long, even when they took breaks. The team worked from early in the morning to late into the night. The conversations were peppered with humor and were always interesting, food was shared and Coffee flowed like a river. Ron was funny and level-headed, a little too invested in the case but it was hard not to be. They bonded well, over the anxiety, ambition, hunger, lack of sleep and tiring hours. It felt like they had always known each other like this wasn’t new.  

Lola felt exhausted from just doing all the research and thinking, she couldn’t imagine how Flip felt. He was hard to read, complex because he swung from being serious, guarded and private to friendly, funny and suddenly opening up when you least expected it. She stared at him, lost in her analysis of him, the dark hair that wove around his head, wild and crazy, the expressive eyes, the long nose, and the fullest lips she had ever seen on a man. He wore warm, comfortable flannel plaid shirts with jeans that highlighted his broad shoulders, and long, muscled legs. He was attractive, to say the least. Lola tried to not to think about that. She was here with a purpose and being able to work on this case was an absolute treat, the fact that the officer working the case was a complete dreamboat was just an added bonus.  

She forced herself to drag her eyes away from him and refocus on her task. Reading and re-reading the local files for any details she missed on Walter. The decision that Lola wouldn’t go with Ron and Jimmy was not her favorite, but she was a researcher, not a cop. She would only be a burden and a liability without the proper training. She would have to wait till the next day to know what happened but Ron promised to call her if something went wrong.  

She looked at the clock and realized that it was time to get going. She motioned to Jimmy and they silently rose to bring in the mic and tape system. The team was quiet now, minds occupied by the impending events of the night.  

They were in a small room, the door closed, each lost in their own thoughts until Jimmy made a joke and broke the tension. Lola walked up to the Flip who was sitting on the desk with the mic and a piece of tape in her hand.  He looked up slowly, surprised to see her in front of him. Their eyes locked, as he slowly unbuttoned his red flannel. She looked at him with renewed interest as she stepped even closer, she could smell the clean smell of aftershave, and the oil that he used to tend to his gun holster that was now on the table. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of the man who she tried not to be attracted to. When she opened her eyes, she noted that he was looking at her with equal interest.  

He peeled off the shirt off of his back and sat on the table in his undershirt without moving. She put her hand flat on his chest as an anchor and started sticking the mic to his chest. The board muscles under her palm tempted her to move her hand, touch him more, explore his expansive chest and shoulders but she took a deep breath to steady herself. Her mind screaming at her to act nonchalant even though her body wanted more.  

She suddenly remembered all the times his fingers lingered on hers as they passed papers and files, how he looked at her every day when she came in and always talked to her immediately when he noticed another officer looking at her, how he had asked every day if she needed a ride home and dropped her home when she said yes. The funny jokes he made as they worked together and the seriousness in his work when he focused on it. She suddenly felt scared. Scared for him. Her fingers brushed the attached mic and his chest one more time even as she told herself to stop touching him.

Their eyes met again. Fear bloomed in her. What if something happened to him tonight? Something happened to him before she could see if they had a chance. Oh no. In a rush, she realized that she had a crush on Flip and never acted on it and now he was going to walk out of this room on an undercover operation infiltrating a group of dangerous people.  

Lola took several steps back as she slowed her thoughts and tried to figure out a way to do something without giving too much away. The team broke up after a quick discussion and reiteration of the plans.  

Ron left to load up the covert listening system into his car, Flip walked to the door, trying not to think of her warm and soft fingers brushing over his shirt for that little extra second that seemed too short to him. He tried to still his thoughts, a cold numb feeling taking over him as he knew that the next few hours depended on him being collected and in control.  

“Flip?” her voice cut through his thoughts.  He turned around wishing he could say something to her. He wanted to talk to her a little more, ask her out maybe? Hell, he didn’t have time to date, between leading investigations for the intelligence team and remembering to feed himself, he never really cared for relationships with women. He had sex with a girl who was a waitress at a local pub once in a while but that was just sex. No strings attached. Lola’s bold humor, loud laughs, big dark eyes and curvaceous body with her long legs made him want to touch her and see her more.  

“Do you want to get some Coffee and Donuts sometime? Just you and me?” She asked looking a little unsure of herself.  

“Coffee and Donuts?” Say yes, not ask questions his mind screamed at him as the words left his mouth.

“I heard rumors that it was the preferred cuisine” She smirked at him.

He burst out laughing. He opened his mouth to respond, mildly surprised that she had asked him out but loving that she had. He was always direct about his thoughts and appreciated the same from other people.  

Jimmy cut in. “Maybe not the best idea to be seen with someone who looks like you while he tries to join the Klan?” He said it in a friendly tone but Lola’s face dropped. For a second a different Lola came to surface. Eyes filled with pain and lips trembling as her teeth bit down, her face crumpled. Then just as quickly a carefully doctored mask replaced the raw emotion Flip witnessed. A new smile, tight and without the ease of her usual smile stretched on her face. She nodded.  

“Of course.” it was barely a whisper but she turned away before Flip could say anything.

“Best of luck boys! I’ll see you tomorrow” she announced cheerily as she walked out of the room.

Flip cursed under her breath, this wasn’t the right time for this but he hated the glimpse of pain that he saw her face.  

He hadn’t ever thought about how the color of a woman’s skin could dictate who she could be with. He shook his head as he felt a sliver of the pain she felt.  

Flip let out a long sigh, he was in his truck driving back home, the joining form for the KKK nestled in the pocket of his jeans and it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He was giving that damn thing to Ron the first chance he got the next morning. The whole encounter shook Flip, he worked with the gory and the gruesome on a day to day basis but never encountered so much hate in one night. He felt drained, the beers he drank in the bar with those racist assholes did nothing to calm his mind or heart. Suddenly he felt a huge weight settle on his chest, he couldn’t shake it off or let it go. He was wound up too tight, emotions flooded his mind, something that seldom happened.  The slurs, the cruelty, the hate for people, people like Ron, people like Lola and most surprisingly people like him.  

Lola! He replayed what happened at the station in his mind, her face, dammit. He took a different turn, swerving off the path to his ranch-style house in a more secluded part of the town. He drove the rest of the way lost in his thoughts and only realized what he was doing as he rang the doorbell.

A small woman with short brown hair and a friendly face opened the door almost immediately, she looked at him quizzically.  

He felt stupider by the minute, he didn’t even know what time it was.  

“Umm, I’m here for Lola?” he asked uncertainly of what was happening.  

The door opened wider and the woman turned around and walked into the house, not waiting for him to follow.  

“Are you the guy she works with?” She asked voice pleasant.

He nodded not knowing what to say.  

“Lola’s upstairs in her bedroom” she walked away towards the kitchen, sizzling sounds filled the air as an aroma freshly cooked food wafted through the open doorway.  

Flip looked around for the stairs, feeling more and more stupid. He scaled the short flight of stairs two at a time and looked up and down the landing, soft music played from one of the rooms that had its door half open. He felt an odd thrill of excitement, more excited than anything he felt lately and knocked as the voice of Aretha Franklin flowed from the room.

“Come in” Lola yelled over the music.

He entered wishing he had said something more to make sure she knew it was him. Well too late now.  

There was a burst of color that was everywhere in her room, posters, plants, Knick-knacks, and books covered the surfaces and a queen bed with colorful bedding sat against the wall and Lola was laying down in the middle of it with a book in front of her. The pastel-colored cotton nightgown contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone, her hair was flowing down to touch the sheets and her eyes were focused on the page.

“Is dinner ready?" She mumbled. When she didn’t get an answer, she looked up and gasped as surprise filled her eyes. She jumped off the bed and grabbed a robe that was hanging off the wall on the hook and quickly draped it around her curvy body and fastened it.  

Flip just stood still, watching, not knowing what to say, he had come because he was emotionally drained after the events of the night. He wanted to be with her, laugh at her clever jokes and take his mind off of work. That’s what he told himself. Looking at her bare long legs, he could think of a hundred other reasons why he was in her bedroom.  

“Hey” he murmured trying to figure out what to say.  

She moved to him, with long strides, “Hey, is everything okay? Are you okay?” her concern overwhelmed him, after blocking all his feeling for most of the night, emotions came at him like angry swirls of hot water barraging a dam wall. He broke, face filling with emotion as he stepped into her path. She hugged him and it felt natural. He sunk into it, letting her warm soft body comfort him. Her hands reached around him and rested on his back. She stood still letting him regain control of himself. He could smell her now, a clean, fresh citrusy scent that infiltrated his senses. He buried his head in her hair.  

“Yeah, I just wanted to come to see you,” he told her, hoping that it would be enough.  

She nodded understanding. It would be a lie to say that she hadn’t been thinking about him.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was going to say yes. For the coffee and donuts”  

She pulled back from the hug and moved away, he missed her instantly.  

“Maybe it's not a good idea, you heard what Jimmy said” she added the last part looking away from him.  

“Since when did you let a middle-aged white man tell you what to do?” the humor in his voice making Lola laugh.

“I would hate for anything bad to happen to you because of me.”

“That is my line. I’m the secretive cop”

She smiled at him, the walls she set up around her melting.  

“Are you sure?” she still sounded a little unsure.  

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you out but am glad you asked first.”

“Why? Because you would never ask otherwise?” They both burst out laughing.

They went down to eat, Flip met Lola’s roommate, Roxie and enjoyed the simple pasta dinner with them. The conversation flowed, the women were educated, witty and funny. Flip found himself relaxed and at ease for the first time that night. They teased each other about the classes they took, their friends and the people in their lives.  

Hours later when she walked him to the door, the harrowing events of the night seemed a little less scarring. They stood in the empty room, in dull light, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He knew he had to leave but didn’t want to leave and he couldn’t get his feet moving out of the door.  

She suddenly seemed nervous as well, unable to think of words to fill this magical moment that stretched between them, when Flip leaned in, Lola reminded herself to breathe just as his warm lips touched hers. That was the last thought she had for the next several minutes.  

Fireworks went off in Flip’s head as her soft lips molded to his, she was in his arms, he let his hands rest on her hips as he entwined himself in her smell, her hair, and her soft body. He kissed her slowly at first, exploring, her sweet taste flooded his senses and he needed more.  

He pushed at her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth for him, dipping her head back with a small mewl that zapped his body into hyperfocus. He explored every inch of her mouth languidly, with his tongue and lips. She moved in his arms, unable to stay still while this stallion of a man uncovered her inch by inch. Her responsiveness was the answer that he was looking for. He walked her back, not breaking the kiss, not letting her go until her back hit a wall.  

He broke the kiss then, moving his lips to her jaw, kissing as he explored her soft skin. She mewled again low and soft, he pulled back to see her eyes closed, lips parted, and trying to catch her breath.

He dragged his warm lips from her jaw to her neck and kissed and nibbled on her soft glowing skin as he moved down till he hit her collarbone. He couldn’t stop, not after he got her taste swimming in his head. He felt her arch against the wall for him, her face moving to the side to give him more room to find the treasures he knew only she would hold for him now. She didn’t know how to respond, no words formed in her head so she wrapped one leg around his hip. He loved it, loved how close to him she was, trapped between him and the hard wall, he moved his arm to help her wrap her other leg around his hips and just like that she was off the ground.  

His hands fisted in her sides as he pinned her against him and explored her body, lips moving further and further south. His fingers brushed her soft and supple breast and heard her gasp.  

His lips, tongue, and teeth attacked her with renewed passion. She moaned soft and sensual, the feminine sound drove him crazy.

“I think that's the first time I’ve heard you moan…it was like a fucking melody.”

[magnoliasinbloom]

Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 2

Coffee felt anticlimactic, after the noise and pound of the club. The fluorescents highlighted the bright orange vinyl booths, making every spilled sugar grain on the table glow.

Claire sipped slowly, enjoying the scalding of her tongue. The whiskey buzz had been on the verge of turning into tipsiness, but before that could happen Claire had dragged Geillis out of the club and into the closest open diner she could see. 24 hour caffeine purveyors.

“Do you regret it?” Geillis watched Claire over the rim of her cup. “Not going backstage I mean.”

“No. You were very clear on what their true intentions were. Why?” Claire raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“Not anymore.” G tilted her head towards the diner door behind Claire. The faint tinkle of a bell preceded the entrance and exit of customers.

The lounging server at the counter had her feet up on a stool, reading a magazine, but stood and grabbed a bunch of menus at the sound of the door. She dropped them just as fast and gasped.

Claire turned, and who should come through the door but James Fraser and the rest of The Clan. She couldn’t for the life of her remember all their names just then – her eyes were helplessly riveted on the tall man who smiled gently at the dumbfounded server and stooped to retrieve the fallen menus.

“Here you go.” James Fraser held them out to her – Laoghaire, read her tag. Claire and Geillis watched this encounter silently, while the men with James Fraser (could she stop thinking of his name like that?) waited patiently for the girl to react. She hadn’t, thus far. Her hands went to her flaming cheeks and her mouth fell open.

“You’re—they’re… you’re— “ Laoghaire stammered.

“Jamie. Pleased to meet ye.” Jamie put the menus on the counter once it seemed clear Laoghaire wasn’t quite up to the job at the moment. He extended a hand that was quickly taken in a death grip. Claire and Geillis exchanged amused glances.

“Oh my God, oh my God! It’s you! Here!” Laoghaire jumped up and down, still holding Jamie’s hand. He smiled good-naturedly and slowly extricated himself from her grip. “Could I have a picture?”

“Of course. Here, lads.” The men quickly surrounded them, subtly stepping in between Jamie and the girl. She pulled her mobile from her apron pocket and looked around wildly for someone to oblige.

“Would you mind?” Laoghaire finally shoved the phone at Geillis, who stood from the booth and held it up and snapped 3-4 pictures for good measure. As the flash went off, Claire caught Jamie’s eye, smiling at her and not for the picture. She allowed him a small smile in return, remembering certain invitations and talk of groupies.

“Thank you so much!” Laoghaire squealed. “Let me find you a table or do you prefer— “

“A table will be just fine,” Jamie interrupted. “Perhaps this one?” He pointed at the booth Claire and G were occupying.

Claire began to fume. The whole empty diner and he was seriously asking to have them booted? Rock star or no—

“May we join you ladies?” Jamie smiled disarmingly, running a hand through his hair. Behind the apparent nonchalance Claire detected a hint of nerves. “These are my mates, Rupert, William, Ian.” Each nodded and smiled in return.

“Sure!” Geillis grinned and moved down the seat. Claire followed suit more hesitantly, looking daggers at her friend. Jamie squeezed in next to her. Six to a booth was a slightly tight fit, but they managed somehow. “I’m Geillis, and this is Claire.”

The men (more boyish up close, including Jamie, Claire noted) turned to Laoghaire, still standing by breathlessly. Rupert, the drummer, winked at the girl. “Let’s have a keek at those menus then, shall we?”

Quarters were a bit cramped for flipping the laminated pages. Jamie couldn’t seem to help brushing Claire’s hands every time he ran a finger down the proffered items. Claire picked up her coffee cup only to discover it was empty.

“Can we get another?” Jamie gestured at the server, who scampered away for the pot.

“Thanks.” Claire smiled as her cup was topped off. Laoghaire ignored her, eyes only for Jamie.

The rest of the men ordered burgers, fry-ups, and more coffee. Laoghaire balanced the tray full of food and lingered eagerly by the side of the table.

“Could ye maybe leave the pot?” Jamie gave her a dazzling smile and she grinned back, setting the coffee down and backing away slowly, her eyes never leaving his.

“So.” Jamie forked some chips over to his plate, while Geillis flirted with the rest of the men—Claire focused on her cup like her life depended on it.

“So?”

“We asked you backstage at the pub.”

“We?” Claire raised her eyebrow at him, and sipped. Two could play this game.

“Och, weel.” He ducked his head and the red strands tickled his forehead. “Not we, then. I asked ye backstage. Ye looked... intriguing.”

Claire glanced at Geillis. She was laughing raucously at something Rupert had said – no doubt something lecherous. The men’s conversation had faded into the background as Claire focused her attention on Jamie.

“I’m not a local. I’m visiting with my friend. I had…” She took a deep breath. “A bad experience in London. I needed to get away.” She didn’t understand the need to pour her troubles out for this stranger.

“What kind of bad experience?” Jamie’s heavy eyebrows knit together.

Claire shrugged, despondency settling briefly on her features. “Romantic, you could say.” She waved her hand dismissively, not willing to go into details at the moment. “How about you?”

“Nothing as bad as that,” Jamie smiled, making the corners of her own mouth lift ever so slightly. “We’re on tour, heading south. We’ve done Edinburgh, tomorrow’s Glasgow, then Newcastle and Leeds . Then Manchester, Liverpool, and Cambridge, and ending in London.”

“Sounds exhausting.” Claire sipped again. “And where’s home?”

“Scotland, obviously. Place called Lallybroch. Family farm, for generations and all that. Can’t wait to get back. You?”

“Based in London. I’m a nurse.”

She spoke of the hospital and her cozy flat. Of her childhood with wandering Uncle Lambert and her favorite bookshop. Of her longing for mornings when she could sleep in and her dislike for high heels. Of the way she drank her coffee and the most difficult medical case to ever cross her path.

He filled her in with the details of his large family – his sister Jenny, married to Ian their keyboard player and his nieces and nephews. How he had taught himself to play guitar in between farm chores. How his parents had encouraged him to pursue his dream of music and crowds who clapped and cheered. How he had found his band – his clan – in Ian the pianist, William the bassist, Rupert the drummer, and his uncle Murtagh as manager.

Two hours later, as Claire happened to glance at her watch, and still going strong at 3 AM. The food was gone and the whole coffee pot practically empty. One of the other men—Ian, Claire recalled—raised his hand for the check, glancing briefly at Jamie, who nodded. Laoghaire bounded over, paper slip in hand.

“No charge for you. On the house.” She smiled ingratiatingly at Jamie and thrust the check into Claire’s hand. “Two coffees, £2.40.”

“Och, I insist.” Jamie pulled a £50 out of his pocket and set it on the table.

“But that’s too much!” The girl’s eyes almost popped out of her head. She reached out for the bill and drew her hand back, afraid to touch it for fear it wasn’t real.

“Nae bother. Thank you, lass.” He nudged Willie, who had been sitting to his left all along unobtrusively, and they all slid out of the booth. Geillis flushed and laughing still, her hand on Rupert’s shoulder.

Well, well, Claire thought, what have we here. She caught G’s eye and winked, which only caused Geillis to giggle unabashedly.

Jamie placed his hand on Claire’s back, guiding her towards the door. She couldn’t resist a dig at Laoghaire as she turned her head back and called out, “Thanks so much!” while the girl just stood there, agape and overwhelmed by what had transpired.

The burst of cold air on her face was most unwelcome, after the secluded warmth of the diner. Instinctively her shoulders hunched against the chilled wind, and she drew her coat about her. The rest of the band was still talking animatedly with Geillis, and Claire managed to catch her slip a napkin with her number to Rupert the drummer; he tucked it in safely into his jacket pocket.

She turned to face Jamie as much as she could, still shielding herself from the freezing gusts. “Thank you for the coffee Jamie. It was nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand a bit idiotically and was surprised to feel the enveloping warmth of his own.

“Claire. It was lovely to meet ye. I hope… perhaps… we can meet again.” Jamie gave a most convincing bow, which would not have been amiss in an earlier century. He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into her skin.

Her heart stuttered, against her will.

Against her will, images of Frank flooded her mind. When they went out on dinner dates, when she sat through his endless lectures, when he supported her decision to apply for medical school, when they spent time together in the morning reading the paper, when they had kissed and touched and loved. When she had been betrayed.

And she thought, Never again.

Claire pulled her hand out of Jamie’s grasp as gently as she could, hoping her face would not betray the anguish his simple gesture had triggered. “I wish you good luck Jamie, with the rest of your tour.” No word on meeting again, no number exchanged, no last name given.

She turned to the William, Rupert, and Ian; shook hands with each of them quickly, nodding goodbye. She took Geillis by the elbow and pulled her away, down the street, and managed to glance back only once.

Jamie stood there, fiery hair glowing in the street light, smiling after them. A smile that said, Soon.

[allwicca]

AN INTRODUCTION TO 21ST CENTURY SHAMANISM

By: Veronica Zotescu

It has been my experience that each of us has the ability and the opportunity to develop a wonderful and close relationship with our own Spirit. Just as well, you can all develop the connection with your own inner healer and to heal yourself emotionally and spiritually. It’s a long journey of self-discovery and healing. I would go as far as saying, it’s a challenge, yet amazing, full of surprises and rewarding.

I spent one year and a half in a shamanic center in Spain where I met two shamans—British Ross Heaven and South-African La Gringa living in Cusco. Then I went straight to the roots of the teacher plants in Peru where I spent around my 3 months as an apprentice. I left Peru and then came back to spend more than one year in the Amazonian Jungle of Iquitos and in the mountains of Cordillera Blanca, keeping specific diets with local shamans, also known as vegetalistas, who have a long tradition with this practice.

Shamanism

Firstly, I would like to clarify that Shamanism is not a religion, but a spiritual practice that involves a relationship with all things in nature, be they animate or inanimate. Shamanism may be the oldest of all the healing therapies.

Archaeologists and anthropologists have dated shamanistic practices as ancient as 40,000 years. Evidence of shamanic practice can be found on all the continents in the form of rock paintings, carvings and relics. The oldest archaeological evidence of shamanistic practices comes from the Altai and Ural Mountains of Russia and Mongolia. These practices have been concluded to have been some of sort of religion, a word that I would not associate with shamanism.

Remember that until about 12,000 years ago, there was no form of religion on this planet, so people attained some kind of access to the sacred through various practices. Therefore, shamanism then becomes about technique, or a way of living, and if any of you are students of the literature of shamanism, you probably know that one of the great overviews of shamanism is contained in Mircea Eliade’s book, Shamanism: The Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy.

Various sources claim that the word “shaman” most probably originates from the Evenki word “šamán,” most likely from the southwestern dialect spoken by the Sym Evenki peoples located in Russia and China. Romanian Mircea Eliade, the world’s most influential historian of religions to date, noted in his writings that the Sanskrit word “śramaṇa”, designating a wandering monastic or holy figure, has spread to many Central Asian languages along with Buddhism and could be the ultimate origin of the Tungusic word. In the Tungusu-Manchurian language, the word “shaman” means, “to know”—which means to know without knowing, to receive the information from higher self as a Hindu would say.

The modern term “shaman” has now been adopted by many as a catch-all word to describe those who by spiritual means seek direct access to information and healing power not ordinarily available. In Peru, healers do not call themselves Shamans. Mostly they call themselves ayahuasqueros, tabaqueros, vegetalistas, curanderos, wachumeros,depending on the type of Sacred Plants they are working with. Their choice of working with the spirit of Tabacco, Ayahuasca or San Pedro Cactus depends on their region and tradition. The best and simple way we can call them is “The medicine man/woman”, so then everybody can understand. This naming has to do with their their knowledge of the plants and how to use them to cure different disease. Imagine that after the ceremony where they use the psychotropic plants, they are able to recommend you a diet with just one plant or two plants out of 80 000 species growing in Amazon region.

The way they are working with psychotropic plants is sacred they are having a different approach from the modern society who consider them just simple drugs. In a way the modern society discovered through science about the healing properties of some plants, while these amazing the medicine man knew all about them for thousands of years.

The Path of the Shamans

The shamanism in Peru is known as curanderismo (from Spanish “curar” which means “to heal”) and the healer is known as either curandero in the Andes or vegetalista (“the man or woman who works with plants”) in the Amazon Jungle.

The South American indigenes are using medicinal plants from the Amazon and from the Andes Mountains in an old traditional way, inherited and spread from generation to generation. Also some people with some strong visions visits the local shaman and then the shaman might suggest after some ceremonies that the person who have suddenly some connections with spirits shows that the spirits choose him/her to become a healer. So in this way some other people are trained to follow this path if they want. In this part of the world, the plants are used to cure various types of diseases and help us rediscover ourselves from a new perspective which will give us a fresh approach to life. Psychedelic experiences in a safe setting with teacher plants can help our consciousness open up to this sensation of connection and of being one with nature. The following trailer from the movie “Embrace the serpent” can be a clear introduction into the amazonian shamanic way of living.

Embrace the Serpent — A film by Ciro Guerra, 2015, Colombia/ Venezuela/Argentina, 125′. It tells the epic story of the first contact, encounter, approach, betrayal and, eventually, life-transcending friendship, between Karamakate, an amazonian shaman, one of the last survivor of his people, and two scientists that, over the course of 40 years, travel through the Amazon in search of a sacred plant that can heal them.

Shamans play a vital role in maintaining an ongoing relationship between the natural and spiritual world, while helping people with their healing processes. Considering that often Shamans make journeys into the spiritual realm to seek help for the community, it is not just the people who benefit from the role of the Shaman in society, but also animals, plants and the entire planet. As you may know, Shamans as well as other healers from various corners of the world believe that the origin of the disease is of spiritual nature and is caused by psychological, emotional, spiritual factors too. Also they believe that most of the diseases appear because of invisible arrows of some malevolent spirits not because of some organically caused sickness and death.

Some anthropologists and religious scholars define a shaman as an intermediary between the natural and spiritual world, who travels between worlds in a state of trance. Once in the spirit world, the shaman would commune with the spirits for assistance in healing, hunting or weather management. Ripinsky-Naxon describes Shamans as,

“People who have a strong interest in their surrounding environment and the society of which they are a part.”

The path to becoming a Shaman or healer is not an easy one. It’s not a journey where others can join and stand by you. It’s a personal, solitary and long-term journey in the world of the Teacher Plants. It takes a fasting period with each plant he intends to work, or is showed by a teacher plant what he/she needs to diet. You can also get the advices and recommendations of a more experienced Shaman. As I have worked in the jungle with different Shamans and went through different apprenticeship diets, I realized that there are many and different gates that open once you start working with healing practices. I also understood that the only way to become a healer is to listen to my own intuition and forget what I’ve been taught until that moment of my life. It was a kind of mental reset, an new kind of openness that allowed me to become a channel for the teacher plants. If the person is ready and open to receive its healing, the plant knows what must be done and reveals for the person seeking to heal the healer within himself.

The aspiring Shaman begins his journey by going into an isolation for months and sometimes even for years in the depths of the jungle or on the top of the secluded areas of the mountains. This way he accesses the spirit world that hopefully will teach him the secrets of healing. By comparison with other types of healing, the aspiring Shaman finds his initiation all by himself and does not receive it from another healer or guru. This makes the Shaman a powerful medium for channeling the spirits of the nature in order to help people.

It is my personal belief that the path to becoming a Shaman is not necessarily linked with being part of a family where Shamanic healing is a tradition. If somebody feels “the calling”, he just needs to take the first step. As others before me, I do believe the path to becoming a Shaman is a very personal journey and after all the best teacher is the plant spirit. But, considering my own experiences in Peru and the many talks I had with well-respected Shamans, any apprentice must have some kind of guidance from the experienced ones at least for a while.

On my Peruvian long journey I met as “good” Shamans and also “bad” Shamans and that the reason I would advise caution when considering to work with a Shaman. You must be careful in which hands you put your trust, because as everywhere in the world the duality is part of our life. Before making your decision, do your homework, get references, look at their code of practice and ethics, see what patients have to say about their experiences. Try whatever it takes to make sure that the Shaman you’ll work with is mainly driven by his healing mission and not by his fight for survival.

The Energy of the Sacred Icaros…

I cannot end my first brief story about the Shamans without mentioning the amazing “icaros” songs used during healing ceremonies. Icaros are either whistled or vocalised in words and vocables. If I were to associate them with anything you are more familiar then it would be the special Christian prayers priests use when performing religious services. There’s a similar powerful healing energy. Actually the power of an icaro is similar to an indian mantra. Through the icaros the Shamans bring the spirit of the plants he dieted with to help the person in need. I warmly recommend you to listen to these Shipibo icaros. The Shipibos is the name of some indigenous minority tribes from the Amazonian rainforest very well-known for their Shamanic practices.

These icaros were recorded in the Amazonian Jungle almost 50 km away from Iquitos during Ayahuasca or Sage ceremonies.

Believed to derive from the Quechua verb “ikaray”, which means “to blow smoke in order to heal”, the icaros are used for various purposes: to protect the space and those present at the ceremony, to enhance or to subdue the effects of plant medicines, to evoke the spirits of the plants, to invite the spirits of healers, to dispel dark spirits etc. It is said that the icaros are revealed to the Shamans by the plants themselves after special diets. The longer the relationship between the Shaman and the plant, the more powerful the icaro is.

The icaros are a gift from the spirits of the plants the Shaman dieted with and the way of healing through each icaro is different. Experienced shamans can learn over the years hundreds of icaros which can be used during ceremonies for very specific healing purposes such as snake bites, communication with the world of the spirits, clairvoyance during the ceremonies, for calling the help of the healing crystals etc:

Icaro del tabaco — icaro for evoking the tobacco sacred plant;

Huarmi icaros — for winning the love of a woman;

Icaro del viento — icaro for evoking the wind;

Ayaruna — for evoking the help of the spirits of the healers that passed away;

Accompanied by the sound of the chapaka which is composed by a small bunch of plants with elongated leaves, who helps to connect with the jungle, who helps the shaman to clean the space and the persons from the ceremonies from the energies they don’t use anymore giving it back to the mother nature being helpful for a discharge of energy.

One cannot overlook the unmistakeable wonderful smell of the Holly Wood (“Palo Santo” in Spanish), similar with Frankincense, Myrrh and Copal. The Palo Santo is part of the citrus tree family and has sweet notes of pine, mint and lemon and is used for energetic cleansing of the space before and during the ceremonies. The Palo Santo has similar healing properties as the Sage or the Cedar wood, enhancing a deeper connection to the Source of all creation. The tobacco, another powerful teaching plant, is used for cleansing and protecting the space.

All of these plants I’ve mentioned you about are tools for the Shamans only to create a protected space and to make it possible the healing process by opening the gate between the two worlds—our world and the spiritual one, by channeling the plant spirit through his body and by icaros making possible the contact the world of the spirits and this way the healing takes place. In other words, the diet given by the Shaman and the strong desire of the person looking for healing produces a switch consciousness that makes possible the disease to vanish away. If you want to find out about the Shaman practices, please feel free to visit innerpath.eu.

Conclusion

Despite of the fact that tens of thousands of years ago, shaman healing and other such practices were widely spread, the economic and scientific developments but not only alienated people from such practices and made us lose the contact with mother nature. The good news is that in the past 20-30 years more and more people are open to rediscover these ancient ways of healing.

I’m going to end this first introductory article on shamanism by quoting Terence McKenna:

“In other words, shamanism is not so much a religion, as ordinarily conceived, as it is a kind of, uh, pre-rational science; a kind of methodology for attaining a certain kind of experience. We are not bullshitting you! This is not yoga! This is not NLP! – not to knock those things This is real! It is so real that you can take the most hardened, rational, reductionist asshole and drop him into that environment, and he will meet his Maker, you know?! It dissolves you into a confrontation with authentic being, and this is what we are starving for; this is how we’ve gotten into the messes – and mess – that we’re in. Take seriously the techniques of shamanism. Study the plants. Make real choices, and then, don’t dibble the dose! Once you’ve done your homework, go for it!”.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this first introductory article in the world of Shamanism and until next time, may peace be with you.

Recommended Reading

Eliade, Mircea — Shamanism: The Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy

Heaven, Ross — Shamanic Plant Medicine — Salvia Divinorum: The Sage of Seers

Heaven, Ross & Charing, Howard G — Plant Spirit. Shamanism. Traditional Techniques for Healing the Soul

McKenna, Terence — Shamanism

Ripinsky-Naxon, Michael — The Nature of Shamanism: Substance and Function of a Religious Metaphor

Watts, Alan — Alan Watts on Shamanism and the Role of Isolation

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