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midori-laboratories · 2 years ago

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Flowers and Ash, Chapter 3

Book 1, Calendula Chronicles series.

Story synopsis: When the eldest daughter of Edward Ashford accompanies her father and brother on a last-minute trip in 1968 to secure their legacy, an act of spite turns into a boon for the family. When tragedy and scandal strike, the survivors will have to be clever if they are to live long enough to pick up the pieces of their lives. Pre-slash/Gen.

Chapter synopsis: An Incident of Note.

CW for eventual violence, implied death of family member, isolation, dissociation, and violence

Marigold’s tent lay quiet but undisturbed in the executive section of the camp. Alexander, already dressed and heading for breakfast, snickered to himself as he approached. As tough as she acted for her station, she had been having a hell of a time holding her gin for the last few weeks.

Then he stopped, puzzled. Her battery-powered lamp was still faintly visible through the canvas. Had she been so far gone- no. She’d been fairly steady walking back, stopping to thank the porters dropping off fresh canteens of water and their quinine pills.

“Mari? Did you sleep in? We’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t hurry,” he called out, approaching slowly.

He pushed open the tent flap. “Come on, this isn’t funny. “

Under the drape of mosquito netting, Marigold lay silent, unresponsive. Alex blanched, then dropped to his knees fumbling under to netting to find a pulse. He found one, faint and fast.

He looked at her again, breath shallow. Her skin was flushed, but cool, clammy. Feverish.

Any doctor in this part of the world would have taken this for malaria. The symptoms aligned. But…they had taken measures. This cave was of interest to two of the top virologists in the world, and one of them was salivating at the thought of weaponizing it.

The notes from the mercenaries said that people had ingested the flowers in the case en masse, dying quickly.

Alexander had come across enough little wonders these last few weeks in the camp that he was rarely without a sample kit. More to the point, if anyone were to be infected in the middle of this marsh, despite the literal bomb of insecticide that had been dropped in the cursed fen, they needed to prioritize diagnosis and act quickly. The work was too time-sensitive to be waylaid by something as common as a parasite.

A few moments, some, gloves, a filled vial, a fevered prayer for her to not die, and perhaps also to not kill him in his sleep for the intrusion, Alexander stepped out of the tent, test kit palmed. An onlooker would have claimed that looked a good five years older at that moment, although none came.

There was a first aid station by the mess tent, with Giesma stain and a few microscopes available for quick diagnoses. The mercenaries in particular had appreciated the quick, ready medical care and decent food on top of their pay, Marigold had pointed out to him earlier that week. Panic hit him at the thought. If it were what he suspected...

Training taking over, he prepped the slide and peered into the scope. Frowned.

A dry cough came from behind him. Steeling his nerves, he turned with a polite smile to see his father standing in the doorway. Marcus had trailed behind, looking so tense that he might have screamed if as much as a gust of wind blew past. Just so.

“Good morning father,” he injected a note of cheer that he knew would ring false to familiar ears.

Edward Ashford’s brows raised slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he redirected the line of questioning. “We missed you at breakfast. Is someone unwell?” The mildness in his voice took on a chill. Marcus had drifted into Alexander’s line of sight, looking a touch sick himself. Clearly, someone was regretting an incredibly stupid course of action.

Alex forced a chuckle. “Mari must have caught a bug on the ride here. I told her not to skip her meds in the evening, but she said they made her nauseous.” An obvious lie, and furthermore, nicknames were strictly something for use at home. Family. The increasingly ridiculous researcher who had trailed in behind Edward Ashford, looking like he’d suddenly been given a pardon from death row, had not gone unmarked by either of them. No wonder this vicious moron had been tossed out of academia at the first opportunity.

Edward stepped forward, instinctively moving to verify for himself. Alexander’s hand shot out as his father moved to see for himself, gripping his arm hard. “I’ve got this in hand- could you save me a plate before they close up the breakfast service though?” Marigold would be proud of her brother for that moment if she ever woke up again. Her mild-mannered little brother, finally showing a flash of the infamous Ashford steel temper. “Lots to do today.”

Edward held his son’s gaze, startled. Something was terribly wrong, and he couldn’t say it in front of Doctor Marcus. Who had a rather panicked and winded look about him.

Without another word, Lord Ashford nodded and spoke in a tone far lighter than he felt. “We can make some time then,” he stepped back and turned, forcing Marcus to scuttle back as Ashford pinned him with a searching gaze.

And then the elder Ashford was gone.

Marcus turned back to the younger Ashford and, deeply uncertain, stepped back into the shade. Alexander had used the moment to quickly snatch the slide out of its cradle, depositing the contents of the kit back into the padded utility vest he wore. Alexander now stood at his cleaned station, eyes cool, silent.

Marcus swallowed, clearly realizing he’d fucked up. “Ah…everything’s alright then?” He was clearly trying for a genial tone, the fucking idiot.

“Clearly not, but we’ll manage,” Alexander replied. He pulled off his gloves, inverting them into a single ball and stuffing them into the pocket he used for trash. Completely ignoring the medical waste bin by his elbow.

Marcus’ eyes narrowed. “Perhaps I should come along. To check.”

“Perhaps I could let her slit your throat for trying to poison her- she was captain of her school's fencing team, that's not an empty threat. I assume that’s what the facial gymnastics just now were referring to. No, no, we hardly need to belabor the point.” Alexander smiled coldly, cutting off whatever denial was about to spew from the other man’s open mouth. “I’m apt to do it myself, should I find out you’ve gone anywhere near my sister with intent to harm. Then again, she’s the one who’d really enjoy it. You know, the little things in life.” He straighten his clothes and stepped forward. “Kindly get the fuck out of my way. I have rather a lot more to do today.”

Marcus fled. A moment passed, and Alexander began to move with purpose back to the executive tents. His father fell into step beside him. “Brilliant man, but I think Oswell overplayed his hand on that one.” He carried an apple and a bread roll in one hand. Another kit- the bulkier one with a microscope included- was tucked under the other arm awkwardly.

Alexander took the food gratefully, allowing his father to shift the bundle to a more comfortable grip. He’d obviously hung around in earshot, and he was grateful (though a touch embarrassed) for the consideration. He considered the food. He’d prefer to do this on an empty stomach, but…it was going to be a long day. That much he had said to Marcus in truth.

Possibly also the violence. The day was still young.

“One of us will need to be back at the main site as soon as possible. Probably you. Definitely you. Marcus and I shouldn’t be anywhere near each other for a while.”

Edward slowed. Stopped. “Hold on.” His face was grave. “No. Oswell wouldn’t…no.”

“I doubt Oswell would be working to recruit her, and then allow this. He seems quite pleased yesterday after dinner,” Alexander stopped, impatiently gesturing for his father to hurry up. Edward hesitated, then complied. Were the situation not so grave, he would have taken the moment to express his quiet pride in the boy’s resolve.

They reached the tent. “If anyone asks, you verified my findings and we’re treating her for malaria presently. I’d prefer not to move her for now, but we’ll see what happens. And someone will have to keep her away from knives when she wakes. I saw her take her full dose last night, but I bet Marcus thinks I found her pills. He was clearly terrified.” Alexander sighed. He didn’t like how this equation would have to balance (and Marigold would be furious...if even she woke up), but he would follow the math through if it meant his family’s legacy project could be salvaged. A stalemate, then. “I need to be recording her vitals till then.”

Edward sighed. Alexander rarely kept secrets of this nature, not from him. But, as much as the two bickered and fought, Marigold had always adored her little brother in her own way.

He had been summoned down from his study when they were both small, to find the local schoolteacher escorting the bashful boy and a murderous-looking girl. He had learned then and there that a young tough had tried to call her bluff to take a switch to anyone who picked on her little brother, only to learn that the future Lady Ashford was an utter hellcat at a mere eight years old. Schooling and training were meant to smooth the edges of that, but Alexander clearly believed her capable of dealing his elder colleague serious injury. “You don’t think it’s malaria at all, do you.”

“Officially? I absolutely do. And you really should until we’re all safely back home.” Alexander binned another pair of gloves and unwrapped a cloth face mask. Edward’s jaw dropped slightly as he finally allowed the truth to hit home. “Unofficially, we could have our first Sonnetreppe survivor. We’ve both had time to read the reports from this past spring. I have a preference for which side of the Atlantic she goes home on, and she made a point of telling me to mind the very nice men will the many large guns whom Uncle Spencer is paying.”

---

Spencer sighed. “James, we’ve really got to find better outlets for you.”

Marcus stood before him at the pavilion, wringing his hands in distress. He didn’t offer excuses. There really weren’t any excuses Spencer seemed about to accept, and Marcus knew it.

No one had said anything, but the sudden shift in demeanor of both Ashfords and Marcus, paired with the conspicuous absence of the young lady Ashford, who had been touring the site and learning what she could with interest on a regular basis, made the shape of the situation was obvious enough.

The young lady’s negligence and poor luck had caught up to her, though it was lucky that it had manifested where she could be treated properly - if Edward’s report on the situation were the whole story. Their continued murderous glances at the cowering Marcus suggested there was a malicious factor in the incident that was going unsaid. Marcus didn’t seem to be offering any defense and seemed to know exactly what had happened.

On a venture like this, a personality like Marcus was inevitable. Without a push like an anonymous tip to the dean of a certain university, Marcus would have hoarded data jealously, even from the man who provided his grants, likely to break away and wrap himself in pewter academic glory. Severing that link and letting the man loose in a controlled environment was for the best if his ego could be managed.

For a brief moment he had entertained a scenario where… but no. The odds of survival were so low as to be considered nil. The girl still lived, thus Sonnetroppe was out of the question as a vector. Even the young Mis Trevor had succumbed to a large extent, and her viral strain had been carefully cultivated for the task.

Good students might be valuable, but a foolish genius whose insecurities could be so easily leveraged was priceless.

Marcus, of course, would need a shorter leash in the future. Miss Ashford was indeed quite lucky that his botanist had failed in his attempt on her life, and that the Ashfords, furious as they clearly were, were also pragmatic. This trip was very nearly over, and their preparations at this stage were coming to completion. And soon, thanks to a piece of equipment packed up for the Europe lab and set to fail at a critical moment, the Ashford faction might cease to be an issue at all.

---

Marigold’s fever broke on the second day- no visitors, no solicitations permitted. If her eyes had taken on a slightly more glacial cast, it was subtle enough to miss through the veil of the relief of her family. As the sun rose on the next new day, the group took a car out to the airfield, their samples packed carefully into a trailing vehicle. The rest could be shipped after, Spencer assured them. He seemed bemused at the situation as a whole. With the weakened and disoriented girl, bundled into the back, the return journey was longer, but Connor managed to make the rough drive as smooth as a newly paved road. The girl smiled wanly in thanks when they reached the airfield, and a business card found its way into the mercenary’s hand as they moved to load everyone into the plane as quickly as possible.

---

Six weeks passed, a vial broke at the worst possible time, and Alexander Ashford watched his father slip away. No malicious cause could ever be proven, and the incident was ruled an accident. The blame largely fell upon the son.

In hindsight, neither of his surviving children should have been surprised.

#calendula chronicles #marigold ashford #albert wesker x oc #pre slash #resident evil fanfiction #flowers and ash

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hurt-care · 6 years ago

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Dear lord please tell me you'll bring back Francis and his poor asthmatic allergy stricken lungs at some point. He is 💗💗💗

Thanks!

For those of you who haven’t met Francis yet, you can read the first story about him here

As Long As You’re There

The spring weather in Plymouth had been temperate and pleasant all season. Away from the heavy smog and pollen of the inlands, Francis had been free to spend his days blissfully (mostly) free of sneezing and itching and all the general unpleasantness that came with his hay-asthma. His respiratory system would always be sensitive, but the sea air made a huge difference in his health.

And spending the days with one Miss Caroline Willison had been a delight. Their blossoming romance was no secret and they could often be found sitting together looking out at the ocean or playing cards in the solarium. Unbeknownst to the rest of the household, they'd been finding themselves more private corners of the estate for more intimate matters. Francis was dreading the thought of heading back to his business affairs in Surrey at the end of the hay-asthma season because it would mean leaving her.

They'd been apart a few days this week and already Francis was eager to have her return to her family home. She'd gone up to London on the train to do some dress shopping with her mother and was schedule to return on the afternoon train. When Francis woke, he rolled over to see a grey sky out his window and the trees bending in the wind. For a season that had been so mild, it looked to be a disappointing day.

He dressed in his best day suit with the green trim and went down for breakfast with Mr. Willison.

“I'll be going over to call on Lord Ashford today,” Mr. Willison said over their shared meal. “Miss Caroline and Mrs. Willison will be in on the two o'clock train. We can have Evans fetch them but you're welcome to go down to the station to greet them if you feel up to it.”

“Plymouth has been a great relief,” Francis said, sipping his tea. “I will most certainly go to fetch them. It'll be nice to have them back home. It seems so quiet without them here.”

Mr. Willison laughed knowingly.

“I'm certain that you speak only of my Caroline,” he said fondly. “She is taken with you, Mr. Miller.”

“And I with her,” Francis said, trying not to blush too obviously. He was still shy around her father, unsure of his feelings about his daughter's relations with a man who was so often affected by ill health. While Francis was a successful businessman with a substantial inheritance in the bank, he sometimes felt an inadequate match for someone as beautiful and vibrant as Caroline.

“She will be glad to be back, I'm sure,” Mr. Willison remarked. “She despises the city.”

“I understand that,” Francis replied. “I would relocate permanently if my father's business affairs allowed it. Unfortunately, until I'm able to sell the company, I'm obliged to return to Surrey.”

“You're a good lad. I'm sure he'd be proud of all you've done for the business.”

Francis looked down modestly.

“Thank you, sir.”

They finished their breakfast, exchanging casual conversation. At eleven, Mr. Williston took a motorcar off to visit Lord Ashford and Francis settled into the atrium with a book. He could not fully concentrate on the plot, however, as he continuously was drawn to his pocket-watch, counting down the hours until he could leave for the station.

When the time arrived, he rang for Evans and the valet brought around the second motorcar. Francis checked his jacket pocket for his familiar companion, a small folded stack of handkerchiefs. Though he'd been mostly free of his affliction, the smoke and dust of the train station could often trigger his symptoms, as could a ride in the car. It did not matter compared to the anticipation of seeing her again.

They sped off down the roadway towards the station, cruising along the coastal road. Francis looked out at the seaside, observing the rolling clouds gathering and the darkening sky. The heavy feeling in his sinuses and head foretold rain and he mentally cursed himself for neglecting to bring an umbrella. He'd have to ask the train porter to accompany the ladies to the shelter of the car with one.

They were about two kilometres from the station when a sudden BANG! sounded and the car lurched worryingly. Evans pulled over to the side and Francis leaned forward, calling through the window between the rear carriage and the driver's seat.

“What happened?”

“Blown tire, sir,” Evans called.

Francis took out his pocket watch and was dismayed to see it reading ten-to-two.

“They'll be arriving soon,” he said, leaning out the window. “How long will it take to fix?”

“I'm not sure, sir,” Evans replied, surveying the damage. “I can do it but it will take a while. Probably a half hour or more.”

Francis looked at his watch again and sighed. The Willison women would arrive to no car and would have no idea why they'd been abandoned at the station.

“I'll walk down and meet them,” Francis suggested, hopping out of the back of the motor. “It isn't far and I don't want them to arrive and think we've forgotten them.”

Evans nodded.

“Good idea, sir. I'll drive over when the tire is repaired and fetch you.”

“Very good. See you soon,” Francis said, settling off down the road towards the station.

The sky overhead was darkening and he quickened his pace. Though the station was not far, there were a few hills along the way and the exertion of climbing them left Francis' weakened lungs straining for air. He huffed a sharp cough into his sleeve and continued on. The air was growing heavy and humid, and above the clouds were getting denser. A clap of thunder startled him and then the heavens opened.

The rain began to pour in sheets, starting to soak Francis through to the skin. He rushed along the road, boots sloshing through the mud and puddles. He thought briefly of poor Evans back at the motorcar, fighting to get the tire changed in this dreadful storm.

Water dripped down from his head of dark curls, trailing across his cheeks and down his nose. His cravat stuck to his neck uncomfortably and his trousers were dark with rain. Even his sturdy day coat was soaked-through.

By the time he approached the station, he was starting to shiver a little. Water pooled in his boots and mud splattered his trousers. He ducked under the awning of the station, gulping for air as his lungs strained in the humidity. He coughed rattily and leaned against the wall, trying to steady his breath.

In the distance, the sound of a train whistle rent the air. Francis reached reflexively into his pocket and withdrew a damp handkerchief, clutching it over his nose and mouth. The steam engine barrelled into the station, spewing smoke into the rainy air. It slowed to a screeching halt and puffed a last great cloud of steam before settling at the station. The doors opened and people began to spill from the carriages, opening umbrellas or rushing towards the shelter of the station awning.

Francis lowered the handkerchief tentatively, searching the crowd for the two women. In the bustle of people, he thought he saw Caroline's auburn hair but he was forced to turn away as a tickle burst forth in his sinuses and he pressed the handkerchief to his nose, sneezing with an irritated sound.

GhhTSXHT!

“Francis?”

Emerging from the crowd was a radiant-looking Caroline. Her auburn hair was damp and sticking to her forehead, but she was glowing and smiling at him.

“Welcome home,” he said, ashamed at the hoarseness in his voice. “I'm afraid we have had a spot of trouble.”

Mrs. Willison appeared behind her daughter, wiping rain from her face.

“Trouble?” she asked.

“The motorcar had a blown tire. Evans is repairing it but I walked ahead to greet you. And I fear I got caught in the storm.”

“You're soaked through!” Caroline exclaimed, getting a good look at him. He tried valiantly not to shiver but he could barely keep his limbs from quaking. The sopping clothes were clinging to his slight frame and chilling him to the bones.

“I am, I'm afraid,” he admitted. “I'm sorry I'm not more presentable. Evans should be here shortly with the car. In the meantime, I suggest we have the porter deliver your bags here under the awning and we'll try to stay dry.”

They huddled under the glass canopy, watching the rain fall as they waited alongside the Willison family luggage. As Francis hugged his arms around himself in an attempt to get warm, he felt the gentle reassuring touch of Caroline's hand on the small of his back.

“I wish I had something to offer you to warm you,” she whispered softly so her mother would not hear.

“I'm better with you here,” he replied quietly.

There was a car approaching in the distance, headlights shining through the heavy rain. It trailed through the thick muddy road and came to a stop at the front of the station. Evans emerged, equally as muddy and damp as Francis.

He came over and bowed to the ladies.

“My apologies,” he said. “I'm sure Mr. Miller has filled you in on our misadventure. I do hope you haven't been waiting too long.”

“Not at all, Evans,” Mrs. Willison replied. “You've both done us a great service. Now, let's to the car and out of the rain.”

Evans loaded up the luggage while Francis helped the ladies into the back seat. He took the front spot beside the valet and when Evans had finished packing, they began the drive back to the family estate.

Francis rubbed his hands up and down his arms in a futile attempt to stave off the cold. In the back of the car, Caroline spoke cheerfully of their time in London and her visit with her cousin, Olive.

She was telling of their afternoon tea at a family friend's townhouse when Francis interrupted with an urgent, throaty sneeze.

Hurhh-TSGHHT!

He pressed a sodden handkerchief to his nose.

“Bless you,” Caroline said, her voice carrying a hint of worry.

“Thank you,” Francis murmured, wiping his nose gently. “Sorry. Go on.”

She continued her story but again, Francis interrupted unintentionally. He started to cough softly and it quickly turned to a harsh hack that he muffled with his handkerchief.

“Mr. Miller, have you taken ill?” Mrs. Willison asked.

“No, sorry,” Francis said between sputtering coughs. “The humid air isn't agreeable with my health. I apologize.”

He took a wheezy breath and huffed a final cough into his handkerchief.

“Forgive me,” he said again. His skin felt ice-cold and tingled all over, sending chills quaking through his limbs. He hugged himself to stop the shivering, focusing on the passing seascapes and willing his lungs to be quiet.

The motorcar arrived at the estate and rumbled into the front drive where they were met by the butler and a footman bearing umbrellas to escort them inside. Francis let the ladies go first and then followed, pausing in the front foyer to tug off his mud-soaked boots.

Hurshh-TSGHHT!

A sneeze tore out of him with a throat-scraping sound and he barely managed to shield his nose into his shoulder. A soft touch settled on his back and Caroline was looking at him with a concerned expression.

“You need to get out of those damp clothes. I'll send Parker up to help you dress.”

“I'd rather do it myself,” he croaked, trying to wipe his nose under her intense gaze. “I'll be down for dinner.”

Caroline reached down and squeezed his hand.

“Ring if you need anything. I'll let the staff know not to bother you.”

Francis escaped up to his rooms, shutting the door and stripping off his layers of sodden clothing. He was shivering madly, unable to keep his limbs from trembling. Goose-pimples rose across his bare skin and he searched his wardrobe for a pair of his pyjamas. He put them on and topped it with a dressing gown. Still shivering, he pushed down his bed sheets and climbed under, bundling himself in the quilts.

He lay with his damp hair on the pillow, wheezing audibly with his nose dribbling down his lip. He would need something hot to drink and a cigarette if he wanted to be comfortable, but the bone-deep cold and his pride kept him from calling for the footman. Instead, he propped himself up with some pillows until he was elevated enough to breathe more easily. And closing his eyes, he focused on small, slow breaths. Gradually, the quaking chills settled and he felt his body feel as if it were thawing. Heavy with cold and exhaustion, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

When he woke, it was to the sound of a knock on his door.

“Dinner, sir,” a voice boomed from outside his rooms.

“Yes, coming shortly,” he called, embarrassed to hear how raspy his voice sounded. He climbed stiffly out of bed and went for his wardrobe, selecting a dinner jacket and trousers with his favourite paisley ascot. He tied the silk securely around his throat, but not so tight as to restrict his already laboured breathing. Though his asthmatic wheeze was quieter with some rest and warmth, his chest still felt tight.

Fully dressed, he dragged a comb through his thick tangle of hair and scrubbed his face clean, pausing to fret at the pinkish tinge around his nose. The last touch was a trusty handkerchief in his pocket.

The family was in the parlour and they greeted him warmly.

“You look much drier,” Caroline teased, smiling at him.

“I feel it too,” he remarked.

They went through to the table and settled at their places in front of the starting course. They all tucked in to the delicious squash soup, chatting casually about the trip to London and catching up on the week.

Francis could feel his attention drifting in and out of the conversation as he ate. Perhaps getting out of bed had not been the best idea. It still felt like a struggle to get a full breath and he was becoming keenly aware of a dull ache in his limbs.

Though it was terribly impolite to cough at the dinner table, he soon found himself unable to help it and withdrew his trusted handkerchief to shield his mouth, turning away from the table and barking some chesty coughs into its folds.

Under the table, Caroline's hand found his thigh and squeezed it reassuringly.

She said something witty to her father, steering the conversation away from Francis' cough.

Francis sputtered and tried to recover his breath, but he could not. Pushing back his chair, he stood with his handkerchief poised over his mouth and managed to say his apologies before retreating out of the dining room.

He stumbled down the foyer, wheezing and hacking miserably before he found himself out on the front veranda. The rain had ceased and the temperature had dropped, leaving the yard masked by a low fog. The cool evening was a welcome shock to his beleaguered lungs and he took a raspy gasp as the coughs began to settle. He leaned back against the cool stone of the house and closed his eyes, feeling woozy and tired.

“Sweet?” a voice said.

Caroline emerged from the house and was at his side in an instant. She lifted her hand and pushed back the curls from his brow, testing its heat.

“You're fevered,” she said. “You should be in bed.”

“It's my affliction, nothing more,” he said wearily. “I'm still recovering from all the train smoke. You know it takes me some time to get over it.”

“This isn't hay-asthma,” she chided. “This is a chest cold from being stuck in that horrendous rainstorm because you insisted on being noble and coming to fetch us yourself.”

She cupped her hand to his flushed cheek and thumbed across the pink skin.

“Come inside before you get a worse chill,” she said gently. “Sit in the library if you won't go up to bed. Father suggested we go through for a glass of brandy.”

Reluctantly, he followed her into the library. Her parents were not yet there which was a great relief. He sunk into an armchair and sat with his handkerchief clasped in his lap.

“Do you want a brandy or something warmer?” asked Caroline.

“Something warmer would be for the best,” Mrs. Willison said as she entered the room. “I've asked Parker to bring up a tea tray with some honey.”

“Thank you,” Francis said, blushing. “I'm sorry for spoiling dinner.”

“Nothing was spoiled,” Mr. Willison said, selecting a cigar from his humidor and lighting it. “I'm sorry you're not well, Mr. Miller.”

“I think I just got a bit cocky going to see the ladies at the train and thinking I'd get away without a reaction.”

“He has a fever,” Caroline interrupted. “I told him that he should be in bed.”

As if perfectly on cue, Francis clasped his handkerchief to his nose and snapped forward with a harsh sneeze.

Hurrr-TSGHHHH!

“I'm so sorry,” he stammered from behind the cloth square.

“It's just fine, lad,” Mrs. Williston said. “Don't you worry yourself. You can have some hot drink and then to bed.”

The library door opened and the footman Parker entered with tea tray.

“And here we are!” Mrs. Williston exclaimed. She poured a generous cup for Francis and spooned in some honey, stirring it until it dissolved.

Francis took it from her gratefully and he sipped a little, feeling the warm liquid soothe his dry and aching throat.

The family made small-talk while Francis sat quietly drinking his tea and pausing every so often to surreptitiously wipe his runny nose.

Ehh-tsGCHHTT!

He put his tea cup down just in time to avoid spilling it before he wrenched forward with a sneeze.

“Let me walk you up to your rooms,” Caroline offered, putting her hand on his arm.

He smiled wearily at her.

“I think it's for the best,” he rasped.

“Mother, Father, I think I'll retire to bed soon too. I'm worn out from traveling,” Caroline said.

“Alright, dear,” Mr. Williston said. “Sleep well.”

Francis added his good evenings and followed Caroline out of the library, climbing the stairs to the bedrooms and turning down the hall. When they reached Francis' door, she paused. Leaning in, Caroline kissed him on the cheek.

“Father won't leave his brandy and Mother never goes to bed before nine. May I come in and get you settled.”

Francis smiled a little.

“You're very sweet,” he said quietly. “But I don't want you to have to be looking in on an invalid.”

“You're not an invalid,” she said, pulling him into her grip. She wrapped her arms around him and twined her fingers into his hair, scratching lightly along his scalp. “It would make me feel better to see you settled comfortably.”

Francis reached around her and opened his door.

“Come in.”

The went into his room and shut the door behind them.

“We have to be quiet as church mice,” she warned, reaching up to loosen his ascot from around his throat. Her fingers stroked the rise of his Adam's apple as she unwrapped it from his neck.

“I cannot promised that,” Francis croaked. “You heard me earlier.”

“Yes, but I must be,” she said, starting to unbutton his shirt. When she reached the bottom one, she plunged her hands under the shirt and pressed them against his chest. He sighed with a sharp wheeze and let his head loll forward to rest on her shoulder.

“No sleeping yet,” she said, rubbing slow circles on his chest. “Where do you keep your pyjamas. I'll fetch them and you keep undressing.”

“Third drawer in the wardrobe,” he said.

She guided him to sit down on his bed and then went in search of his pyjamas. Francis reluctantly unbuttoned his trousers and slid them down so that he was sitting shivering in his boxers and socks.

Caroline returned with the silk pyjama set, his favourite ones with the green pinstripes. She guided the sleeves around his arms and bent to button up the front. Francis took the liberty of putting on the bottoms, blushing slightly. Though they'd done plenty of exploring with each other, the vulnerability of being naked alone in front of her made him nervous.

Caroline drew down the bed sheets and helped Francis under the quilts, tucking them back up to his chin. She pushed his hair back, testing his forehead again with a frown.

“Thank you,” Francis said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “I'll be alright.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“Okay. I'll tell the footman to keep an ear out for your bell. Ring if you feel unwell during the night.”

He nodded and settled down into the pillows, coughing a few times as he closed his eyes. He felt Caroline's hand stroke his cheek a final time and then the sound of her quietly closing the door.

The next morning, he came back to consciousness with a start, taking a sharp breath and instantly dissolving into a fit of chesty, painful coughs. Someone had knocked and woken him. The door to his chambers opened a crack and Caroline's face peered around. She took one look at him and rushed over to the bedside.

“Oh, Francis,” she said sympathetically. “You should never have gone out in that rain.”

He took a shuddering breath and covered his mouth with his pyjama sleeve, hacking until he was red in the face and wheezing audibly. She pressed her small hand to his brow and frowned.

“You still have a fever,” she said. “We need to send for the doctor.”

“No,” he rasped, gasping for breath and trying to get the coughs under control.

“Francis, you can barely breathe!” she countered. “Please.”

He managed to get the coughing to quiet for a moment and he took some shallow, careful breaths as he wiped his nose with a handkerchief.

“I'll recover.”

“You don't get a fever from the rain,” she said. “We'll call for Doctor Harris.”

She went and tugged on the sash that would alert the staff to Francis' rooms.

“Now,” she said, leaning over the bed and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Mother won't like finding me in your rooms alone. I'll come back soon.”

She cupped a hand against his feverish cheek and he leaned into her soft touch.

“Thank you,” he said, defeated. The more awake he became, the more he realized the deep, heavy congestion that gripped his lungs and sinuses. He cursed his damn weak lungs and constitution for making him so vulnerable to illness like this. He watched Caroline leave, wondering if she'd ever considered that there were other men who could weather a little rain and escape unscathed.

Parker, the footman, arrived outside his rooms and Caroline instructed him to fetch a hot tea and to see to Francis' comfort.

Soon, a flurry of activity filled the bedroom as staff delivered a tray of hot tea and began setting up the sick room, spreading an extra quilt across the foot of the bed and providing more pillows to keep Francis upright.

“A flannel for your chest, sir,” explained Parker, arriving with a steaming bowl. He wrung out the hot cloth and reached over to unbutton Francis' pyjama top, spreading the fabric across his upper torso. “Miss Caroline said you might require your inhaling device?”

Francis, mortified to be caught amidst so much attention in his weakened state, shook his head.

“I will wait for Doctor Harris' advice,” he said softly. “But if you'd be so kind as to fetch it in case he recommends it, it can be found in the box atop my dressing table.”

While Parker went to fetch the ceramic inhaler, Francis searched the sheets for his discarded handkerchief, feeling the tingle of an oncoming sneeze. He located the cloth in time to press it against his nose, stifling a sneeze.

NghXHT!

He instantly went from the sneeze to a volley of barking coughs that left him wheezing softly again. Parker smiled sympathetically and put the inhaler down on the bedside table.

“Anything else I can fetch for you before the doctor arrives, sir?”

Francis shook his head as he wiped his nose. “No, thank you. I will just rest.”

“Very good sir.”

He bowed a little and left Francis alone for a moment. And then there were voices at the door and the Willison family entered, looking sympathetic. Francis felt his face flush at being seen in bed by all three of them.

“I'm so sorry you've taken so ill, Francis, dear,” Mrs. Willison said. “You should have stayed in the motorcar. We've called for Doctor Harris, but he'll be another few hours yet.”

“Our Caroline has offered to sit with you, if you'd like some company,” Mr. Willison said. “But if you'd like to rest, that is fine too.”

“I would like that very much,” he said quietly, trying to shield them from the dribble of snot that was threatening to escape his nostril. He pressed his handkerchief there briefly and sniffled.

“I'll be happy to keep watch,” Caroline said. “I'll go fetch a book and be right back.”

Mr. Willison moved the armchair from the corner to beside Francis' bed and Mrs. Willison offered her best wishes for a fast recovery before they both left him alone. Caroline returned holding a copy of one of their favourite novels, “Jude the Obscure” by Thomas Hardy. She settled into the chair at his side and leaned over to take his hand.

“Sweet, tell me truthfully how you feel?”

“Like my lungs and head are stuffed with cotton fluff and honey,” he admitted wearily.

She frowned.

“The doctor will not be here for some time. Can I persuade you to take some hot drink and maybe to try your inhaling device?”

“I'll take the tea first, thanks,” he said, accepting the steaming cup as she passed it over.

“Shall I read a little to you?” she asked. “Or do you want quiet?”

“Your voice is as good a medicine as any,” he said softly. “I'd like that very much.”

She smiled affectionately at him and opened the book.

Barely a few pages in, he interrupted her reading with a coughing fit. He shuddered and hacked, bent at the waist with his cheeks puffing as each pained bark filled the room with the uncomfortable-sounding coughs. Caroline put the book down and stood, bending over the bed and rubbing his back.

He took a strained breath and coughed hard, grabbing the handkerchief and clutching it over his mouth.

“Love?” she said, worried.

He hacked one last, hard cough into the cloth and slumped back into the pillows, fighting for his breath.

“I think we should use this,” she said, reaching for the inhaler.

He nodded reluctantly.

“The tincture is in my box there,” he said, gesturing to the dressing table. He huffed another wheezy cough and added “we'll need some boiling water.”

“I'll have some put in it,” she said, leaning over and kissing his flushed cheek. “I'll be back shortly. Rest.”

He watched with a fevered gaze as she left and returned a while later with the ceramic inhaler filled with a steaming mix of water and medicine.

She held it out to his lips and he took the curved portion into his mouth, sucking in the steamy medication. The harsh, fragrant medicine always seemed to burn for a moment but he felt the congestion easing. She pulled it away as he started to cough with a looser, wetter hack.

“There,” she said, gently rubbing his back as he coughed weakly into his handkerchief. “That'll help.”

He went limp into the pillows, still sputtering with coughs but utterly exhausted by the illness. She pushed his hair back and removed the cooling flannel from his chest, buttoning his pyjamas back up and tucking the quilts up to his chin.

“Thank you,” he rasped. “I'm sorry. I feel silly being so ill like this from something as simple as a rainstorm.”

“You can't help it,” she said. “Now, quiet. Don't strain yourself.”

She settled back into the chair and took up the book again. Francis closed his eyes, floating between sleep and waking as the fever pulsed in his body and robbed him of his strength. Soon, he was sleeping fully, wheezing quietly as he breathed. Caroline set down the book and tested her hand on his brow. It was still burning with a steady heat.

Francis' pocket-watch was on the nightstand and she checked the time, wondering how long it would be before the doctor arrived. She hated seeing him feeling so poorly and struggling to breathe.

He dozed fitfully for the next hour, snorting and snuffling for air. Caroline had a maid fetch a cool bowl of water and a flannel. She dipped the cloth and wrung it out, gently sponging off Francis' face and neck. He stirred and his eyes flickered open for a moment.

“The doctor will be here soon,” she said softly, pushing back his sweaty hair and wiping his brow with the cloth.

Francis opened his mouth to speak but only a croaking noise came.

Caroline tipped a glass of water to his lips and helped him to drink.

“Thank you,” he rasped wearily. “I'm sorry.”

“I told you to stop apologizing,” she chided, taking up the flannel again and pressing it to each flushed cheek.

There was a knock on the door and a kindly man with a white moustache entered.

“Mr. Miller?”

“Yes, this is him Doctor,” Caroline said, standing and approaching the doctor to greet him. “Thank you for coming.”

Mr. Williston followed the doctor into the room and smiled at his daughter.

“Your nursing duties are relieved, dear,” he said. “Why don't you go down to the parlour for some tea with your mother and let the doctor look in on Francis?”

Caroline turned and gave Francis a small smile.

“Yes father,” she said and reluctantly left the room.

The doctor sat Francis up and listened to his chest with a stethoscope.

“Definitely congestion of the lungs,” the doctor murmured. “I've seen you before, for hay-asthma a few years back?”

“Yes,” Francis croaked. “I'm affected rather severely by the climate inland. I come to Plymouth for my health during the warmer months. You saw me when I was affected by an unfamiliar plant at a neighbouring estate.”

“Those prone to the modern affliction of allergies and asthma are often more vulnerable to diseases of the respiratory system,” Doctor Harris said, leaning Francis forward to listen to his lungs from the back.

“I'm afraid I caught a nasty chill in a rainstorm,” Francis said. He sniffled softly. The leaning forward was making his nose run.

“I'm sorry doctor-- I --” he began, voice wavering. He turned away and sneezed damply into his pyjama sleeve.

Hurhh-TSCHGHHHT!

The doctor passed him a fresh handkerchief from the nightstand and Francis blew his nose softly.

“Excuse me,” he said, mortified that Caroline's father was witnessing this whole display.

“Is there much sneezing and congestion of the nose?” the doctor asked.

“Oh yes,” Francis replied. “It's hard to get my breath either way. My nose is not quite as troublesome as it is when around pollen or dust, but I'm still quite prone to sneezing today. It feels as if my head is stuffed with cotton.”

“And how long have you felt feverish?” the doctor asked, taking a small mercury thermometer from his case.

“Since the afternoon yesterday,” Francis replied. The doctor wiped off the thermometer and put it under Francis' tongue.

“Hold that there a moment,” he instructed.

The doctor busied himself with rummaging through his bag while the thermometer measured Francis' temperature. Holding it under his tongue, Francis focused on breathing slowly through what little passage was left in his nose. But his lungs were not in agreement and he found himself gripping the thermometer tightly between his lips as he started to cough.

“Just a moment more, lad,” the doctor said as Francis' cheeks puffed with the suppressed coughs. After a moment, he removed the thermometer and Francis took a gasping breath, dissolving into harsh coughs.

“Yes, still fevered,” Dr. Harris said, consulting the thermometer's gauge. “I'm going to give you some medicines to calm the coughing and allow you to rest. And I'll leave some pastilles to help soothe your cough as well. Mr. Williston has told me you already own an inhaler?”

“Yes sir,” Francis sputtered between small coughs. “On the nightstand there.”

“Ah yes, very good,” the doctor said, examining the device. “I would recommend a treatment before resting and another upon waking, up to four times daily to keep your breathing loose. You'll take a spoonful of the cough medication twice daily and make sure to have plenty of rest, hot drink, and it is important that you stay warm and dry so you do not catch a worse chill.”

Francis nodded, feeling his energy fading away. The coughing fit had left him feeling drained and he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and submit to sleep.

“A spoonful of medicine and then you may rest,” the doctor said, sensing his exhaustion. He dosed a small teaspoon of thick, dark syrup that Francis swallowed followed by a bit of lemon water to remove the harsh taste.

“Mr. Williston?” the doctor said, turning to the master of the house. “I recommend that he remain in bed at least a day more and that he limits his physical activity for a week. No strenuous walks or tennis and I think it best he stay indoors given his propensity for reaction to natural irritants. Calm afternoons spent reading or playing a quiet game of cards will be the best medicine for his recovery once he's well enough to be out of bed.”

“Very good,” Mr. Williston said. “We'll ensure he does just that. Thank you, doctor.”

“Do ring if his condition worsens or does not improve within a few days.”

“We will. Francis, do you have everything that you need before I show Dr. Harris out?”

Francis raised his head from the pillow and nodded.

“Yes, thank you sir. I think I'll just have a rest. I'm feeling quite tired.”

“I'll leave you to it then. Ring if you need anything.”

Mr. Williston accompanied the doctor to the door and sent him on his way before heading to the parlour. His wife and daughter were playing a game of bridge over afternoon tea.

“How is he?” Caroline asked eagerly.

“Quite unwell but the doctor believes he'll recover within a few days. He dosed some medicines and recommended that he rest as much as possible.”

“May I go sit with him?” she asked.

“He's going to sleep now, dear,” Mr. Williston said. “I think it best you let him. I worry about you wasting your affections on a man with such a poor constitution.”

“I'm not wasting my affections!” Caroline retorted. “Francis is a dear and kind man who has never been anything but sweet and respectful towards me. I love him, papa, and he loves me.”

“I didn't mean to say the affections were wasted,” Mr. Williston replied. “I just worry you'd be left playing nursemaid more than you should. Think of the state of him when he arrived here at the beginning of the season. There'd be no freedom to travel during the warm months, no garden parties, no impromptu train trips.”

“It won't matter,” Caroline said defiantly. “We'll make a home here on the seaside. I detest London and when Francis can sell his family business, we'll have enough to live here comfortably without worrying for his health. I'd be happy enough with that.”

Her father smiled at her.

“Yes, darling,” he said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. “I believe you would be. He's a good lad, I agree with you there.”

Later that night, Caroline crept along the dark corridors of the home after everyone had gone to bed. In her nightclothes and dressing gown, she slipped into Francis' room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was asleep, hair wild and unwashed with a pink nose and flushed cheeks. She felt a swell of affection as she watched him at rest.

He stirred and opened his eyes as she leaned over to kiss his brow.

“Love?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she whispered back. “Just checking in on you. Mother and father insisted I leave you alone to rest but I wanted to see you for myself.”

“The medicine is helping,” he murmured. “But I'm ever so sleepy.”

“That's okay,” she soothed, stroking his cheek. “Get some rest. I'll sit for a while and then I'll come visit you tomorrow for tea.”

Francis closed his eyes and dozed off again as she sat, carding her fingers through his hair. With a last kiss she went off to bed, relieved to see him recovering a little. Two days later, he was well enough to join her in the library for tea and cards. And one week later, they strolled arm-in-arm along the coast as Francis drank in the cool summer air with a cheerful eagerness. He leaned in to kiss her as they reached a secluded spot free from prying eyes.

“I will marry you,” he said into her ear and she laughed playfully. “And we will build a home with this view.”

“I don't care about the view,” she said, returning the kiss. “As long as you're there, I'll be happy.”

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foreverbehindthismask · 6 years ago

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To Walk with the Devil

Her hand trembled within his grasp. Fingertips cold beneath his lips as he pressed gentle kisses here and there to try and warm them. They both knew it would do no good, but time was fast running out, so they cherished these last precious moments. Her eyes found his, wide and warm and loving despite the clear signs of fading life. He met her gaze head on, deep green swimming with tears he dare not shed. He must smile for her, until the last moment. “Promise me something...” She breathed, her voice a barely there whisper in the silent room. He nodded, edging the chair closer to lean in. “Anything, my lady.” He swore. The corners of her mouth lifted in the trace of a smile at this, her breath shallow. “Please...continue to protect my brother...in my stead.” His eyes widened a fraction at such a request, but she continued before he could answer. “I know. You have been friends for a long t-time...and you would d-do so...without question...but...” She trailed off with an inaudible gasp, her lips pale in her struggle for survival. “The path...you tread will be...a lonely one.” He saw tears in her lavender eyes and reached a hand to her cheek, ready to catch them as they fell while never releasing her hand. She smiled again, finding his gaze. “...you both mean...t-too m-much...to me...I couldn’t bear...that for either of you.” He grit his teeth against the surge of emotion he felt, looking to the ceiling a moment to clear his eyes of those tears that he, her Knight, the man who loved her as Euphemia long before he did as Princess, could not dare let her see. Her hand tightened within his, by a hairsbreadth and he looked back, the smile on his lips as genuine as his words. “I Promise.” She smiled once more... Then she was gone.

Suzaku’s eyes opened. The room was still dark, the blinds giving away no trace of morning light as yet. He raised a hand, staring at it a moment before covering his face with a heavy exhale. His head ached, his cheeks were damp, his eyes watery and his heart a steam-hammer in his chest. He dragged his hand down his face and let it fall back against the bed sheets, staring at the ceiling. For a while, the Knight didn’t move. He let his pulse relax, allowed his mind settle on the present...and waited patiently for his heart to let go. Then he sat up, swinging his legs off of the bed and stretching some before standing. Surveying the room, Suzaku noted with minor irritation that he was in the Camelot guest room and not, as he often hoped, in his room back at Ashford. There, he could sometimes forget the brutality of the real world, playing the part of a struggling schoolboy to his hearts content. Here, he was a young man, a pilot and a war hero. Another sigh followed before he moved to the bathroom, washing his face and swallowing down two painkillers with a mouthful of water before vacating the room and dressing. He checked his watch, counting the hours back by six. He had twenty minutes. Suzaku shouldered his bag and slipped out, following the hallway down until the bright light of the main Knightmare field met his eyes and he stilled by the observation platform. Narrowing his eyes, he located the source of his headache. Lloyd was standing by the main computer display that was linked to the Lancelot Albion. Even at a distance, Suzaku could see the eager grin on Asplund’s face and he groaned. Turning away, he ducked into the entryway and followed it down until he reached the main door and let himself out. The night air was cold.

@saviourofarea11

#[The White Knight] Suzaku Kururugi #[The Black King] Lelouch Vi Britannia #[The Black Knight] Zero #To Walk with the Devil | Enemy of Britannia!Suzaku #//Sorry it be Long AF XD #//I just kinda...yeah XD

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pandemicperipatetics · 3 years ago

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Weekend Trip to Mount Rainier National Park

Mount Rainier from the Skyline Trail

The Verdict:

Mount Rainier has one of our favorite hikes from any U.S. National Park -- the Skyline Trail! We highly recommend this park for this hike, and also, of course, for generally awesome views of stunning Mount Rainier.

We stayed near the southeast entrance of the Park (by Packwood), but the accommodations were overpriced for what they were. You could do the Skyline Trail and another sight or two at the park in a day trip from Seattle.

We visited in the last weekend of September and the weather was great -- if anything, a bit too hot and sunny one of the days, and pleasantly cool on the other (we managed to dodge rainy days). It seems like a generally nice time to visit.

Deciding between Mount Rainier and Olympic National Park? We loved Mount Rainier more (because of the Skyline Trail), but found accommodations more comfortable and better bang for your buck at Olympic (Port Angeles is really nice).

What to do

Ice and clouds along the Skyline Trail

The park has four main areas that, through our research, were recommended to visit: 1) Paradise, 2) Sunrise, 3) Ohanapecosh, 4) Carbon River [listed fourth because we didn't visit this one].

#1. Hike the Skyline Trail to Panorama Point (~6 miles, loop, ~1,900 ft elevation gain).

Wildflowers!

This hike starts from the Paradise area of the park and is absolutely stunning from start to finish. It is known both for its views of Mount Rainier and for the colorful wildflowers along the trail. It is the rare hike that is extraordinarily beautiful every step of the way, not just at certain points or peaks. We took a leisurely 3h 10m to complete this hike and loved every step of it. We read from AlllTrails reviews that many people saw wildlife (mountain goats, bears, marmots, pika) along the trail, but we did not see anything apart from squirrels. Still, if you can only do one thing at Mount Rainier National park, do this!!

A few logistical tips:

What to wear: It was VERY windy and at times bitingly cold for much of the hike -- it was one of the rare hikes that we actually needed all of our layers (full sleeve UPF shirt + bubble jacket + windbreaker). We went on a beautiful day with a low in the mid-50s and a high of 70 degrees F.

Getting there: 1) Google mapping to "Skyline Trailhead" will cause you to overshoot the start of the hike and end up on a one-way road that will add 5-10 mins to your drive. The actual trailhead starts by a large visitor center & park lodge. 2) We drove from Packwood to the trailhead (~an hour) via Paradise Valley Road. The clouds were so low that we were literally driving through them for several miles, and visibility was terrible. We were lucky we hardly passed any other cars on the road. It was a bit of a scary drive.

Parking: The parking lot does seem to fill up. There were loads of spots when we arrived around 7:30 a.m., but it was full when we left around 11 a.m.

Toilets: There are toilets by the trailhead (plentiful, and decently clean when we visited) and by Panorama Point (we didn't check this one out, though).

Other Hikes: There are lots of hikes that start at Paradise and share parts of this trail. We didn't get a chance to try them, and we chose this hike based on Earthtrekkers' recommendation.

#2. Hike the Sourdough Ridge Trail & Fremont Fire Lookout Trail (~6 miles, out and back, ~1,200 ft elevation gain)

This is a highly recommended hike on many blogs and podcasts about Mount Rainier National Park. It is located in the Sunrise area (east), is considered moderately difficult, and has good views of Mount Rainier. It took us 2.5 hours in total, including a 20 minute lunch break at the top. We thought the hike was nice, but to be honest it didn't knock our socks off. Probably because we are spoiled from all of the beautiful hikes we have gotten to do this year.

#3. Hike in the forest at Grove of the Patriarchs (1.5 miles, out and back, easy) and Silver Falls (depending on where you start, 1-3.4 miles, out and back or a loop, easy to moderate)

After a very hot, sunny afternoon hike to the Fremont Fire Lookout, we were glad to walk in the shaded Grove of Patriarchs in the Ohanapecosh area of the park (southeast). This is a beautiful and peaceful hike amongst massively tall trees; it reminded us a bit of walking in the Hoh Rainforest at Olympic National Park. There is a lovely swinging bridge that can be fun to walk across. However, since the hike is easy, it gets very crowded, especially with families with smal children. It does not have views of Mount Rainier, so while it is nice, we would not prioritize it if strapped for time.

Literally just across the streets from the Grove of Patriarchs trailhead, you can go to see Silver Fall, a waterfall amidst striking blue-green waters. We have a fairly high bar for waterfalls and thought this one was very pretty. If you start the trail from opposite Grove of Patriarchs, it's just a 1-mile out-and-back, fairly inclined walk to the waterfalls (0.5 mi each way). If you want a longer walk in the woods -- which we didn't, since we had just done that at Grove of Patriarchs -- it seemed like you could start the hike somewhere else and walk a ~3-mile loop with the waterfall as a stop along it.

#4. Tolmie Peak Fire Lookout (~5.6 miles, moderate)

This hike starts from a lake in the Carbon River area of the park (north). It is said to have very nice views of Mount Rainier and is highly touted by Earthtrekkers. That said, it is a pretty long drive to get there -- it would have added 2.5 hours to our drive from Paradise to south Seattle -- so we did not try it. We did read that it requires driving ~11 miles down an uncomfortable unpaved road.

Itinerary

Since we started from Seattle, we drove around the park in a clockwise loop: Seattle > Sunrise (east side of the park) > Ohanapecosh (southeast side) > Packwood [overnight by Ohanapecosh] > Paradise (south side) > Ashford [town by southwest side] > back up to Seattle along the west side of the park.

Where to stay + eat:

We stayed at the Cowlitz River Lodge in Packwood, as it was very close to Grove of Patriarchs/Silver Falls (~15 min drive) and Paradise (~50-60 min). The lodge was adequate but overpriced for what it was, and nowhere near as nice as our similarly priced hotel in Port Angeles (by Olympic National Park).

There was not a lot going on in the town: there were very few food options, but we really enjoyed White Pass Taqueria + Taproom, the Mexican restaurant in town . Their vegetarian burrito with butternut squash was amazing, and they had tons of outdoor seating.

#mountrainier

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thehikingviking · 5 years ago

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Smith Mountain from Gold Valley in DVNP, and other peaks along the way

I had meticulously planned a long desert road trip only for a storm with “light snow” to completely change everything. As we made our way down Highway 5, I learned that the Grapevine was closed and all traffic headed towards Southern California was redirected towards Highway 58 over Tehachapi Pass. The reported traffic conditions were poor and Google Maps stated that going over Walker Pass via Highway 178 was faster. The Caltrans website and twitter page confirmed the roads were open. All went well until we were stopped by parked traffic just a few miles from the pass. We waited for a while, but traffic wasn’t moving and many people were turning around. The rumor being passed down was a big rig crashed on Highway 14 on the other side of the pass. We had no way to ascertain when the stoppage would be cleared, so I decided to turn around and find a place to sleep. We had all the gear needed to comfortably sleep in the car so we park at the trailhead for Hooper Hill where we spent the night.

It was cold the next morning. Asaka was slow in getting up so I decided to run up Ball Mountain.

I reached the summit in about 15 minutes but the views were blocked by clouds.

I jogged back down to the car then Asaka and I followed the trail up Hooper Hill. We followed the path to the the ridge then cut back towards the summit. There was a thin layer of soft snow on the ground, but it was easy to walk across.

I admired the various animal tracks that utilized and bisected the trail.

Several large boulders covered the summit. What would have been an easy move to surmount in the summer was made a little tricky with the snow coating the tops of the large stones. To the southeast was Piute Peak.

The rest of the views were obstructed. Rather than follow the trail back down, we dropped straight down the eastern slopes to the car.

We had lunch in Lake Isabella and drove over Walker Pass which was finally open. I was dumbfounded by the amount of snow along the side of the road and atop the mountains. I needed one more bonus peak to feel fulfilled, so I turned my attention to the lower 5,174 ft Five Fingers. When I arrived there was more snow than I expected, but I couldn’t think of any lower peaks to climb. Even the El Paso Mountains were covered with snow. The beauty of the peak drove me to attempt it anyway.

At first the snow was shallow and manageable. Asaka was feeling tired but we didn’t have very far to climb, so we took it slowly. As we climbed higher, the terrain become more rocky and footing became uncertain.

The snow became deeper, but the outstanding views distracted me from the worsening conditions.

Owens Peak stood above us towards the west.

I went from knee deep to waist deep snow. Breaking trail was become a chore. I began audibly grunting as I trudged onward. The summit was only a mere hundred feet above us, but we had to cross over to the north side of the peak to find the easiest summit chute.

As we traversed around we left the sunlight and temperatures began to cool off. The wind was becoming more noticeable, and our route was often obstructed by large boulders that lengthened our route.

The last 50 feet or so was covered with snow and ice. It did not look safe. Asaka was also beginning to struggle and she wanted to turn back. To make matter worse, my hat blew off my head and rested beneath a small cliff down below. I was visibly upset, but it was the right call to turn around. I retrieved my hat and made my way back to the sunny side. I made one go up the side of the rock that was free of snow and exposed to the sun.

I did a couple class 4 moves with wet feet. I maybe could have continued to the summit, but I was unsure if the climbing would continue to increase in difficulty. The more I committed myself, the harder it would be to descend. It wasn’t a worthy enough peak for me to put myself in such danger, so I bailed and we descended back down to the car.

I was bummed. If we couldn’t even climb a five thousand foot peak, then we would have no chance on the 8,000 ft peak I had planned for the next day. We booked a motel in Ridgecrest and had dinner with my roommate and his family who were passing through. I re-outlined the whole trip, this time taking into account the snow and Asaka’s pregnancy.

The next day I planned to climb Lookout Mountain and Death Valley Buttes, both in Andy Zdon’s Desert Summits book and both with low summit elevations. We drove north along Panamint Valley then turned west on the dirt Minietta Road. Road conditions were good until we reached the base of Lookout Mountain. I was under the impression we would be able to drive most of the way up the peak via Stone Canyon, however the road conditions proved to be too difficult for my jeep. I eventually gave up and we parked along the north side of the peak at 3,200 ft. We continued up the road on foot.

It was a good decision to park because I wouldn’t have been able to make it much further. Terry Flood mentioned he parked at 3,400 ft, and only a very capable vehicle would have been able to go any further than that. I asked Asaka if she wanted to climb directly towards the peak, or take the longer road to the top. She preferred the latter. There we signs of mining activity throughout the canyon.

We followed the road to the saddle west of Lookout Mountain at the wilderness boundary then continued along the road to the top.

We left the road just south of the peak and hiked across the rocky terrain towards the summit.

To the north were Panamint Butte and Towne Benchmark.

To the northeast was Pinto Peak.

To the east were Wildrose Peak, Rogers Peak, Bennett Peak and Telescope Peak.

The register had more signatures than I expected for such a minor peak.

We dropped off the north side of the peak, following some steep use trails down to Stone Canyon. Once at the car, we drove into Death Valley and parked along Daylight Pass Rd at the northeastern end of Death Valley Buttes, our next objective. We climbed to the ridge where we found a use trail.

I tried my best to observe the snow level of the surrounding peaks to help give me an idea of what to climb the next day. Funeral Mountain appeared to have snow, and I couldn’t really make out the conditions of Smith Mountain.

To the north was Corkscrew Peak. This showed few challenges, but for some reason I didn’t really feel like doing this peak. I wanted to choose something with a more remote trailhead since I could use the rest of the day to get there.

We reached Death Valley Buttes, East, which was just a false summit. Asaka decided to call it quits here and I continued on my own.

I tried to make it quick. I jogged and power walked as much as I could. I found three big horn sheep grazing on the slopes below me.

The final ascent had some fun low class 3.

The further I climbed, the harder it became to spot Asaka resting below the false summit.

After the scrambling, the true summit was reached just a couple minutes later.

To the north was Corkscrew Peak.

To the southeast ran the Funeral Mountains.

To the south were Badwater and Telescope Peak.

To the west were the Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes and the Cottonwood Mountains.

To the northwest was Tin Mountain.

I sipped on some water, signed the register and hurried back down. I caught up to Asaka on the walk down and we descended the same way back to the car.

I still hadn’t made up my mind for the next day, so I brainstormed over dinner in Shoshone. While there was a risk of snow covering the peak, I felt the best decision was to climb Smith Mountain, as I heard the drive to the trailhead was a long one and we had enough time to endure it. We approached via Greenwater Valley, which I was surprised to find was a good 2WD dirt road. We eventually left this road for a 4WD road leading towards Gold Valley, however the conditions of the roads remained decent enough for my Jeep Grand Cherokee. My biggest concern was the layer of snow which coated the road. The snow disappeared as we descended into Gold Valley, and we parked off the road on a slight incline where we planned to depart the next morning.

We woke up as the sun rose and I found there to still be a good amount of snow on the peak. With a class 2 route to the top, I figured we would be able to manage.

We started off hiking across the large alluvial fan descending down Gold Valley, crossing several small washes along the way.

We aimed for the canyon leading up the northeast side of Smith Mountain.

The canyon spends most of the day shaded, so snow remained along our route. I was concerned about Asaka, but she appeared to be eager enough to give the cold canyon a shot.

We remained in the shade, but nothing along the way really gave us trouble. The toughest part was one steep section with a step that we surmounted with relative ease.

We took a rest on a dirt spot in the sunlight and eyed the next section. The snow remained thin enough to pass, so we ascended a ridge leading toward the saddle of Smith Mountain and Smith Mountain, East Peak.

Out of nowhere, a mouse jumped out of a bush towards me. After realizing its error, it ducked behind a bush where it thought it was hidden. Its long tail grossed me out. This guy wasn’t very smart. It remained completely in view, so I snapped a couple photos of him and continued upwards.

There is something very calming about trudging through light snow. The conditions gave more personality to what would have probably been a boring hike.

We reached the saddle where we had views of Ashford Junction to the south.

Smith Mountain stood just a short distance to the west.

Death Valley was visible through a gap to the north.

We picked up a use trail here and followed it the remaining distance, avoiding the snow patches wherever possible.

We reached the top. Off towards the east were Charleston Peak and the Nopah Range.

To the southeast was Smith Mountain East Peak.

To the south was Ashford Junction.

To the southwest were Needle Peak, Manly Peak and Porter Peak. There was also a challenger peak which appeared lower.

To the northwest was Telescope Peak.

To the northeast was Funeral Peak

I decided to run to the challenger peak just to make sure I was on the high point while Asaka waited behind.

This point held the register and the benchmark, however it was clearly lower.

I suppose this point had better views from a surveying perspective.

I hiked back to the true summit where I joined Asaka for lunch. The eastern summit was so close, but my biggest challenge would be to convince Asaka. I first asked her if she would be inclined to join me, to which she immediately declined.

I worked several angles but none seemed too persuasive. I commented that it would be easier to hike over the east summit and hike down the other side, which may have actually been true. Before she could express displeasure, I marched onward. I looked back and she was following me, so it looked like I would get my wish.

We reached the top in no time.

I had the idea of climbing Gold Valley Peak as a bonus, which is listed in Purcell’s Rambles and Scrambles book. It was somewhere to our southeast but I couldn’t make it out.

The previous summit stood across the saddle.

I couldn’t find the benchmark which was buried in snow, but I did find a reference marker.

Even Asaka seemed glad that we made the bonus peak.

My plan was to descend the ridgeline directly towards Gold Valley.

This plan worked like a charm. The soft snow cushioned our steps and the dirt was soft as well. I was barely able to make out the car parked a few miles away.

The descent went by very quickly. We picked up some Mylar balloons along the way. The walk across the alluvial fan was uneventful and we reached the car around 2pm.

With so much daylight left, I had enough time for a bonus peak and Gold Valley Peak fit the bill. I drove south as far as I could and parked at an abandoned mine. Asaka didn’t want to join and would wait for me in the car. I told her I would be back in an hour an a half.

I followed the road further on foot then headed cross country towards the ridge on the west side of the peak.

From there I headed east, finding very little difficulty accessing the summit area.

The north summit was marked as higher, so I quickly marched up the final section to the top.

Here I found a fairly new register with the signatures I expected.

To the north was Funeral Peak.

To the west was Smith Mountain.

To the southwest was China Lake Naval Weapons Center.

To the southeast was Avawatz Peak.

To the east was Greenwater Valley.

Rather than follow the same route down, I headed off the north summit and quickly scrambled down to firmer ground.

Once on easier terrain, I jogged back to the car.

It took me only 45 minutes to bag the peek. Asaka was surprised to find me back so soon. I snapped a couple photos of the interesting rock formations surrounding the Jeep.

From there we drove out to Shoshone and continued on towards Pahrump where we ate a warm dinner and watched the 49ers beat the Seahawks.

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ember-furness-blog · 8 years ago

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Do You Want to Kill a Snowman? || Ember, Ricky, Qianneng (POTW)

Setting: Itey’s Lair Characters: Ember, Ricky, Qianneng The trio go track down, release and fight the Itey

Ember held the knife that she had forged tightly. Partially because she almost felt connected to it from being so integral to the process. And partially because she really wasn't sure how things were going to go. She already was wearing layers upon layers to protect herself from the snow and still didn't feel like she was wearing enough. Winter really didn't suit her whatsoever. Hearing someone's footsteps behind her, Ember quickly turned around to see who was coming. "Um...hi," she said, taking a few deep breaths to try and keep herself from hiccuping - not to mention praying that everything that was going to happen wouldn't somehow mess up the glamour she had. "Are you ready?"

Qianneng wasn't sure what to expect when he answered the call to stop the killer wave of snow creatures once and for all. As much fun as he personally was having melting them with his makeshift snow creatures each day, his supplies were wearing thin and the onslaught just kept coming. Qianneng was acutely aware of how poorly other, normal people were dealing with these attacks too, especially after stumbling on what looked like some poor hiker, bones picked clean by whatever animals came after the snowmen. It wasn't right for them to be terrorized like this, by these things. Qianneng left with what he hoped was warm enough clothes for the occasion, wrapping his limbs in thick cloth as extra precaution; protection against both cold and freezing bites. As he approached the only person who could have been the scribe, he raised an eyebrow at her attire. Well, at least he wasn't the only one here who hated the cold. "Hello," he answered back, nodding towards her. He looked down at the knife clutched in her hands. He wasn't used to handling weapons that weren't his own, but from what he gathered, this one was supposed to be special. "Yes," he said, looking around, "It's time to end this."

Ember had to admit that she was glad that she wasn't asked about her clothes, even though she was sure that it would come up eventually. Or if she had to turn on her fire only for her clothes not to burn in the process. But she figured that they would cross that bridge once they got there. If they got there. "Alright, so I'm assuming that you know how to use this," she said as she held the knife out for him to take. "And then, I probably won't be much of a help in the fight itself. Just so you have a heads up about that."

Qianneng had to bite down on his tongue before a sarcastic comment escaped from it. Now wasn't the time. "Don't worry," he said with what he hoped looked like a confident smile, "I'm good with blades and I'm used to fighting alone anyway." Not that he liked doing so, but she didn't have to know that. "I imagine that thing won't be in its lair alone though. Do you know how many of its...helpers will be with it?"

"Well I'm glad to hear that," Ember nodded, for once actually meaning it. While she wasn't the biggest fan of people who killed other supernatural people, though in the case of so many people being killed - things were a little bit different. "I don't. I was just given a location and the fact that there was Itey there, and that it's trapped in ice. And that they're from Ashford River. But my guess would be that there would be quite a few. I can probably help with the ice part, I'm good with heat and fire, but other than that...." her voice trailed off, partially because she didn't want to repeat herself with how horrible she was in a fight. "We should probably start up there."

"I see," said Qianneng, "I would appreciate any help you would give me, but you don't have to feel like you owe me any if it makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe." He tried his best not to judge anyone by their looks, but this girl cocooned in her cloth armor didn't look to be much of a fighter. Maybe it was because she looked to be even younger than his little sister that something in his mind was screaming at him to keep her out of the fray. "Do you know if anyone else is coming?"

As much as he loved the snow, Ricky was getting goddamn tired of this particular storm and the monsters that came along with it. Molly had passed information about the killing party onto him and since only he and she had seen where this thing's nest was, he was tagging along as a guide and spare muscle. He jumped out of his rental car (sending up another silent prayer for the Jeep's recovery) and strode over to where Ember and a stranger were standing; favorite weapon of snowman smashing, his skateboard, on his tank-top clad shoulder. "Hey Ember. Got enough coats on?" Raising his makeshift weapon in a mock salute he turned to the stranger "you must be the muscle. Let's go kill us an ice fucker."

Ember's eyes instantly fell to the ground, embarrassed by the fact that she did have to wear that many coats just for survival. And while she had hoped that people would just accept it and move on, all that happened was that she was immediately a lot more self-conscious. "I don't know," she finally shrugged, her voice incredibly quiet as she looked up the mountain. "But yeah, let's do that. Lead the way."

Guess that answers his question. Looking up, Qianneng sent out a silent prayer to whatever gods may be listening. Being unprepared for fighting was one thing, but being completely unprofessional about it was not something he wanted to deal with. He nodded silently at the new stranger, not trusting himself to make a jab at his attire if he were to open his mouth.

Ricky raised an eyebrow at Ember's demure response and the stranger's absolute lack of a response. This was going to be a great trip. "Alright. Cave's not too far up the mountain. Pretty easy to find and we didn't see snowmen until we were almost there. There shouldn't be too much resistance until we're almost to Ice Cube himself." He struck up the mountain, gesturing to the other two to follow him as he trudged through the snow. "Finish that book yet, E? I've got another one for you when you're done with it. If you liked Deathless you're gonna love this one. More modern, but, same quality of writing. Though admittedly tongue in cheek." He looked behind him to make sure his silent companions were keeping up.

"Yeah I've finished it," Ember nodded, though as she followed Ricky she kept her eyes on the ground to try and stay in the shallowest parts of the snow - just to keep herself from keeping stuck. Between her water issues and her height, the hike seemed like it was more dangerous now than when they got to the snow monsters. "I really liked the modernization of Russian folklore, it made it a really interesting read, so I'll gladly take any other suggestions that you have," she nodded, "Though you might want to wait until this is over, just to make sure that I remember it."

As they all walked through the frozen wilderness, Qianneng held back from the group to bring up the rear, partly to look out for any potential dangers and partly because this Ember girl and their guide already seemed to be good friends. He didn't want to intrude on their conversation if they could help it. "How would you describe this ice monster?" he said, ducking under a branch, "Is it similar to the creatures it controls?"

"Oh my god you're actually capable of human speech!" Ricky held a branch out of the way so Ember could duck under it while the stranger asked a question. "Hard to get a super good look at it because when Molly and I saw it it was still encased in a gigantic ice cube. But no. It's not. It's pretty big, vaguely humanoid, super long limbs but that's about all I can give you. oh! Lots of teeth. So so so so so many teeth. Which makes it similar to the snowmen." Trudging forward he shrugged, "But... we'll see what it looks like when it loses the ice."

Ember listened to the description of the ice monster and couldn't help but shudder. It sounded like it came out of a nightmare, and the girl couldn't help but wonder if she was going to start dreaming of it at night. Though that would depend on how this went, and if they even got through it. A train of thought that she was sure she didn't need to go down. "Right, ice. That much I can help with," Ember muttered, "Just....once the fire starts both of you should probably stay away from him because I don't want you to get hurt. Just a heads up."

"Forgive me for not being chatty on my way to stab a giant monster in the heart," Qianneng let out witheringly. He'd hoped for something more specific like an estimate of height or what type of animals it resembled, but he didn't think he'd be getting anything more useful than that. Oh well. He'd been in worse situations. Slinging his small pack over to his front, Qianneng rummaged around in it before he pulled one of the makeshift "flamethrowers" (it was extremely generous to call it that) that he'd been using this past week. "Here," he said holding it out in front of him, "She said she can make fire, but I don't know about you. Skateboards can't possibly be that sturdy."

"It's only a little giant. Like.... 50% giant 50%.... teeth." The tone with which the random asshole accompanying them spoke to him was annoying. Ricky was used to people treating him like a dumb jock but this was a little beyond the pale. Ricky looked with some skepticism at the mechanism the man was holding out. "That can very very very generously be called a weapon but mostly it looks like a really painful for me to commit accidental suicide. I'm pretty comfortable among the living right now, hit a dark spot a month or so ago but I'm good now so I'm gonna go ahead and pass on that." he twirled the skateboard around in his hand. "Skateboard's great for the snowmen, actually. Broad base means big dispersal. Hasn't failed me before so. I'mma stick with it."

"A little giant is a bit of an oxymoron," Ember pointed out, though if something was like a giant to Ricky then she was pretty sure that it would be a true giant to her small frame. Which wasn't helping her feel any better about the whole situation. She felt herself starting to fall a little behind, just from being so small and trying too hard to be careful, and attempted to speed up. Though she wasn't actually sure if she wanted to, considering she couldn't see herself much of a help. "Is there much hiking left?" she asked, trying her best not to sound like she was whining, but instead interested, "Just out of curiousitly."

Qianneng shrugged and put away the device for later, hoping that he wouldn't have the need to use it. In its place, he brought out a collapsible baton. It was an old thing, one he used mostly to practice form before switching over to his blades, but he'd found that its blunt force worked better with these snow creatures than his knives and short swords did. After all, they didn't bleed. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he extended it to its full length before continuing onward. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted white moving against white. Crouching down and looking closer, he saw the white, occasionally red, figures funneling into what looked to be a cave. "Is that were the monster is hiding?" he asked.

"That is exactly where the monster is hiding." Ricky murmured as he crouched down next to the man, idly twirling one of the wheels on the board. There were more snowmen than there had been last time, but not enough where it gave Ricky any pause about them charging in there. "So how do we wanna do this? I assume my main literary gal back there is gonna take care of the ice while you and I keep the snowmen away from her. But beyond that I'm open to suggestions about what comes after the ice is melted." He turned to look at Ember over his shoulder, "Hey... question... are you gonna catch your coats on fire? Because that makes me concerned about getting back down the mountain. I could give you a piggy back ride!"

Ember stared at the cave, nodding at Ricky's plan considering it was probably what was best. "I'll stay on fire, just so that they stay away from me," the phoenix added on, though she was more than happy to have them keep the snowmen away from her. Partially because Ember was a little scared of the melting ice already and didn't need to think about one of those attacking her either. "And no, clothes don't burn. Pretty much just paper and dry grass. And people. Which is probably good because if I burned my clothes off that would be really embarassing."

Qianneng nodded silently along with the suggestions. "Sounds good," he said, scanning the area more closely, "You said the thing was still encased in ice though? Exactly how far back in the cave is it?" He hoped that it wasn't so far in as they would be trapped by other snowmen while trying to attack the monster. "Also, sorry about forgetting to ask your names in the beginning," he said, turning towards the other two, "Screaming 'hey you!' in a fight isn't really useful when you're with more than two people. I am Qianneng."

"Most of my plans are good. Actually that's a fucking lie. I have a lot of terrible plans but mostly I'm good at them." he nodded as they watched the snowmen patrol, "Bout fifteen to twenty feet inside the cave. Cave doesn't have any other entrances or exits... just the one. So that's both good and bad I guess." Another eyebrow raise at the very very belated introduction, "Ricky. Ricky Cordero. All around badass and pretty handy in a fight. Though this one wasn't started by a drunk at a bar so it's a little different than what I'm used to."

Ricky's words didn't give Ember much confidence, especially since she was pretty certain that the plan was really the only one that they could really go with. "I'm Ember Furness," she said, realizing that she still had the knife in her hand. "And you should probably take this. I may have helped make it, but that doesn't mean that I know how to use it." Handing the knife over was a little strange, partially because she felt connected to it, despite the fact that Ember knew that wasn't actually the case. Maybe it was because it was one of the few things that really made sense as of late, and so handing it over just brought the world more craziness. "So I should probably go over there and start melting things. Be prepared for things to get a little crazy quickly. If you're both ready."

Qianneng hummed as he took everyone's names in. He looked down at Ember's hand and the knife she held in it. It was beautiful in a straightforward way, no glossiness or intricate etching needed. If it wasn't for the fact that she looked at it almost like she was handing over a baby, Qianneng would have wanted to keep it for himself. With a careful hand, he reached out and took it from her. "Thank you," he said softly, "I won't let you down. Go do what you need to do."

Watching the exchange of what had to be a very very special dagger Ricky stretched out in preparation for the upcoming battle. He wasn't really nervous about it. He'd seen a lot of death recently, had almost died a couple times himself. He'd left some notes in his apartment; for Reza and Neven, Molly and Veronica, and his father... just in case he didn't make it out alive. But really he had every confidence they'd make it out in one or two pieces. "Alrighty roo. muscles has the dagger, ember has the flame and I've got a skateboard. Who's ready to ruin some snowmen's day because I'm totes on board with this shit. Ember? Light a motherfucker up."

Ember nodded at Ricky as she took a few steps away from them and released her fire. That much hadn't changed, releasing her flames and letting them take control. Which in all honesty the girl was glad for, otherwise it would have made things a lot harder. Going as fast as she could, she headed towards the cave, knowing that the snowmen weren't going to come near her flames and yet still afraid of what was going to happen next. Instead she just kept her focus on the cave and the ice, closing her eyes and breathing as she got to the wall and watched it start to melt.

Qianneng has always had a complicated relationship with magic, but there was something deeply satisfying at watching this girl channel something so clearly innate in her being. The fact that it was causing these demonic snow creatures to shriek and flee was an added bonus. Face flushed with both the heat and excitement, Qianneng gripped the dagger in his dominant hand as he prepared for the monster to be released. From the sound of the cracking ice and the smell of burning fur, that time was coming close.

Ricky watched as Ember unleashed a truly impressive and slightly terrifying torrent of flame from her body. A million "damn you're hot" jokes came to mind but Ricky pushed them out of his mind as he slid his feet shoulder width apart and took up a fighting stance. He could hear the sound of the ice cracking behind him as he turned to face the mouth of the cave, taking a swing at the first snowman that came through, dusting it quite literally. "We got incoming back here, Muscles. I got this if you can handle the monster that's coming outta the ice." Another snowman dusted as the first one started reforming, "Don't. Stop. Me. Nooooooow... I"m having such a good time. I'm havin' a ball. Don't. Stop. Me. Nowwwwwwwwwww..." Ricky sang to himself as he kept the snowmen from fully reforming. This was actually pretty enjoyable.

This was probably the closest that Ember had ever gotten to ice. She had always been warned about the dangers that came with her being close to water - or in this case frozen water. That she was here actually melting ice, it was enough that was starting to just hit her anxiety. She hiccuped a couple of times, figuring that it didn't matter at this point trying to hide the fire that went with them considering that she already was on fire in the first place. A few loud cracks suddenly pierced the air, as she watched the wall of ice start to crack apart. Ember wasn't entirely sure that the itey would avoid her, but she hoped that it would. Just in case one of the others didn't get there with the knife quick enough.

"I've got it!," shouted Qianneng, pummeling his way through the ravenous snow creatures with his baton. He was almost at the entrance now. Suddenly, one of the loud cracks of the melting ice gave way to soft, almost dog-like moaning. Then, a blood-curdling shriek pierced the cold mountain air. Qianneng looked on in horror as a long wet hand curled its fingers over the lip of the cave. Whatever it was was big, and was dragging itself out. Qianneng had never seen anything like it before in all of his years of hunting. If whatever ice it was in was like its egg, then they had cracked it open before it had fully incubated. The monster didn't look...finished. Still, he needed to get up on it before it stood up, otherwise they could never get at its heart. Qianneng quickly glanced down. The arm closest to him was furred with matted white hairs. Hopefully that would be enough for him to find purchase. Taking a deep breath, he sprinted towards the limb and grab on, beginning to climb.

"Oh now that is just seventeen kinds of fucking disgusting right there!" Ricky exclaimed as he paused battling the snowmen long enough to look at the half-formed creature that Ember had melted free. The creature was.... malformed and disgusting. He was interrupted from his disgust by a sharp pain in his arm and he looked down to see a snowman treating his arm like an appetizer, "Oh fuck off." He sighed as the flattened it with his board, returning to blocking snowmen from ganging up on Qianneng so the other man could focus on the giant.... gross-monster that they were fighting. "I've got the snowmen! Just worry about that thing!"

Ember's eyes widened as she saw what she had released, her hiccups only increasing as she walked as quickly as she could outside the cave. She knew at this point she wasn't going to be much help at this point. She couldn't fight, the ice was melted enough, and all Ember really wanted to do was hide. It wasn't as if she was going to be any help fighting against..........that. Ember stared as she watched, almost feeling a little useless in that she wasn't able to do much else but keep herself on fire.

Qianneng grimaced as he climbed up the monster's weird, spindly body, wet fur making squelching sounds underneath his grip. He was almost up to its shoulder when he felt a rush of vertigo as the creature stood up. It had to be at least ten feet taller than he was. He quickly maneuvered onto its back before it began shaking violently, trying to throw him off. Qianneng squeezed his eyes shut, clinging desperately onto the monster's furred back, waiting for an opportunity to stab it without being thrown into the treeline.

The monster roared in pain as Qianneng started stabbing it repeatedly. With its roar however, the snowmen redoubled their efforts to get inside the cave to their magical master. Ricky amped up the speed with which he was deflating snowmen, but they kept coming faster and faster. "Hey there muscles. I know you're sorta in your groove, doin' your thang, and I'm all about that, you do you buddy. But we should probably get that thing dead super duper fast because these motherfuckers are not about to let me stop thumping them but I'm pretty sure it being dead will help with that. So... yeah.... not criticizing or anything! Just sayin'. maybe we pick up the pace." Another snowman sank its fangs into his leg and he destroyed it, praying Ember had gotten herself to safety.

Still on fire, Ember inched away from the opening of the cave, watching with both horror and interest as to what was happening. She still felt like she should help, and yet she was also afraid that if she tried to help he'd just make the situation worse. Part of her was afraid that they'd fail and she had no idea how to talk to the police of something like this, especially since the last thing she needed to be was a witness to a murder again. "Please try not to die too! Just keep that in mind!" she attempted to yell at both of them, though she wasn't sure if they could hear her, and couldn't help but wonder if that was for the best.

"I'm! Getting! There!" gritted out Qianneng as he stabbed wildly into the monster's chest, hoping to find that purchase into its heart. He hissed as he felt a clawed hand rake against his back, but luckily it didn't seem to break any skin. Only his backpack and only good winter coat were its casualties. With a loud shout, he stabbed into its chest one last time. The creature let out one last roar that petered off into nothing as it finally stopped moving. Qianneng sighed in relief. He couldn't rest long though because what was once solid muscle under his body started turn and give way into slush. With a yelp, he rolled of the dirty pillar of ice and a sharp pain rolled up his right arm. Yup, definitely landed on that wrong. He couldn't be too angry with himself for it though. It was over.

@rickycorderbro @watermargin-s

#touchofchatzy #do you want to kill a snowman #qianneng chatzy #ricky chatzy

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the-ashford-arms · 8 months ago

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Discover the best activities near Ashford in the Water in the Peak District. From scenic walks in Monsal Dale to exploring historic Chatsworth House and cycling the Tissington Trail, there's something for everyone. Plan your visit and stay at The Ashford Arms for a perfect getaway. Book your stay today!

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dwyguyhikes · 4 years ago

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Mt. Rainier

Paradise to Camp Muir: 4,788 ft gain in 5:49

Camp Muir to Summit: 4,222 ft gain in 5:50

Final elevation: 14,410 ft

Link: https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/washington/mount-rainier-standard-summit-route

Buckle up for this one because it’s going to be a long one.

I was supposed to climb Mt. Rainier last year, but the trip got canceled because of COVID. I knew this was going to be one of my toughest highpoints to check off, and I wanted to use it as an opportunity to learn as much as possible to learn about alpine and glacier traveling. RMI Expeditions offered a 5-day program with multiple days of training, so I knew it was the perfect route for me to go.

I got picked up in Seattle by some other people on the trip, and we made our way to basecamp in Ashford. The first day was just orientation and gear check. I had to rent a few pieces of equipment, but most of the stuff on the list I either had already or was able to borrow from Nick back in Salt Lake. Some interesting gear that I didn’t have any prior experience with were crampons, double leather boots, gaiters, and an ice axe.

We also met our lead guide, Jenny, on the first day. All I can say about Jenny is that she’s a total badass, and I knew that she was going to get us up and down that mountain safely. Our team had 8 climbers not including the guides: Chris, Minia, Jim, Jason, Jamie, Ricky, Eli, and myself.

Once we had all our gear sorted out and learned the best way to stuff it all into a backpack, we broke for the day. I was staying at a campsite only a few miles away, so I headed there to try and rest up for the big days to come. Conveniently, this campsite featured a bird that constantly pecked at the metal roof of the building in the center of the camp as well as a small army of screaming children with their parents’ Trump flags billowing in the wind. Terrific stuff.

Day 2 was a training day. We went to a snowy part near the bottom of the mountain and learned how to walk up and down hills with crampons, self and team arrest with an ice axe, anchor an ice spike, and walk as a team of 4 people. On Rainier, we’d be tethered together for nearly the whole climb. There needs to be 30 ft of rope between each person because that’s how wide the crevasses are on the mountain in case someone falls in. Jamie also shared that she had fallen into a crevasse while trying to climb Mt. Baker, so the dangers of the climb were starting to become more and more apparent.

We also got to meet our second guide, Steve, who used to be a pro hockey player and is missing his two front teeth to prove it. He actually plays now for the Idaho team in the BDHL, which I’m trying to play for in Park City. Small world!

After minimal training I still felt incredibly unprepared, but that didn’t matter because we were climbing anyways. The next day, we met a Paradise parking lot at around 9 am and started our climb! Our goal for that day was to get to Camp Muir, where we’d be staying for our nights on the mountain. It has a bunkhouse for us to sleep in as well as tents for the unvaxxed folks.

The hike up to Camp Muir was a slog and gave us a taste of exactly how difficult this climb would be. Steep hills and slushy snow made for some tough terrain, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. We all walked in a straight line, with each person kick-stepping into the previous person’s footprints. This meant the last person in line had practically a staircase for all the steep hills. Imagine climbing a 5,000 ft high staircase with a 40 lb backpack on your back, and that’s roughly what our experience was like. Chris ended up falling way behind and Eli pulled something in his leg about 75% of the way up, and it was tough to see team members fall off like that.

I think the worst part was that everything seemed deceptively close. When we caught out first glimpse of Camp Muir, it looked like it was 5 minutes away. Wrong! We still had another hour to go after seeing it. That bit was demoralizing.

Eventually we all made it to Camp Muir and claimed our spots in the bunkhouse. The guides provided hot water for our meals and prepared us for the next day. Based on the weather forecast, our best chance to summit would be the next day. This means waking up at 12:30 am and heading out of camp at 2 am, so we all headed to bed straight after dinner. The elevation and general excitement/anxiety led me to get MAYBE an hour of sleep before the guides came roaring in at 12:30 to wake us up. They said it was pretty normal to not sleep the night before the climb, but that didn’t make me feel any less tired.

Chris and Eli weren’t fit to climb, so we departed as a team of 6 with our guides. With only our headlamps to guide us, all you could really do was keep your head down and look at your feet. We had to conserve energy by rest-stepping into the footprints of the person in front of you. I started out on a rope with Jenny and Minia, and Jenny set us off into the darkness with a nice, slow pace.

We crossed Cowlitz Glacier and then made it to Ingraham Glacier. The scariest part was crossing some pretty narrow bridges over crevasses. I tried not to think about the fact that you couldn’t see the bottom when you looked down them and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. After crossing the glaciers, we took our first break after about an hour. We put our parkas on to stay warm and tried our best to force food and water down. It’s crazy how hard it is to eat at that elevation. This was also where Minia decided she couldn’t go any further, so one of the guides took her back and we changed up our rope teams. Now we’re down to 5 members.

The next bit was absolutely debilitating. We had to ascend Disappointment Cleaver (cleaver? I barely know her), which was a rocky section full of switchbacks. Normally I feel pretty at-home while scrambling over rocks, but doing it in crampons with full backpacks and no light was terrible. All I tried to do was focus on my breathing and ignore the grating sounds of metal spikes on rocks. I was tied in with Ricky for this part, and I could tell he was having a hard time. After about an hour and half of climbing, we sat down for our second break and had a breathtaking view of the sunrise. That view alone almost made the cleaver worth it, but I can barely put into words how much that part sucked.

Break passed quickly, and before we could start up again Jim decided that he couldn’t go any further. Jenny made the executive decision to call it for Ricky too, so they both tied up with another guide and started heading back down. Now there were only 3 of our original team left: Jason, Jamie, and myself. We all tied in with Jenny and became the J-Line (since, ya know, my middle name is John…)

The next bit I could only describe as a seemingly never-ending staircase. At this elevation, every step becomes a struggle. Our pace is slow but steady, I’d say we’re taking roughly one step every two seconds. Try that out for a quick second to understand just how slow our pace needed to be to be sustainable.

The last leg really took its toll on Jamie who was in the back. I was trying to crack jokes to keep team morale high, but everyone was getting their ass kicked by this crazy mountain. After what felt like an eternity of climbing, we eventually reach the crater at the top of the mountain. The crater is considered the summit, but the true summit was about another 30 minute hike past this point. I was so excited and full of adrenaline that I practically ran toward it. Jamie and Jason stayed behind, content with the crater, so I ended up being the only person of my 8 person team to reach the true summit.

I snapped some pictures up there (and recorded a quick clip for my next Survivor application) before starting to feel light-headed and heading back to the team on the crater. Little did I know that my rushing to the true summit would lead to a truly miserable descent: my trip to the top meant that I didn’t get a break like the rest of the team. As soon as I made it back to the crater, I had about 2 minutes of sitting before it was time to head down. We were in a time crunch because some unusual heat was going to produce bad descent conditions, so we needed to leave before it got too bad. I thought I’d be ok with a super short break, but boy was I wrong.

The heat, the elevation, and the exhaustion proceeded to destroy my body on the descent. My head hurt, my body ached, and I started to get tunnel vision. I had to keep telling myself “the only way off this mountain is down, and you sure as hell can’t afford a copter ride out of here.” I was stumbling all over the place and started getting really scared that things were going to end badly.

Pure grit got me to the first break, where I felt nauseous and could barely eat or drink. I put away as much water as I could, which made me feel only slighter better. Still, the only way off was down, and it was time for Disappointment Cleaver round two.

Downhill rocks with crampons on felt like a living nightmare. I was slipping a ton and I was walking in a daze. It felt like a miracle when we finally made it through and returned to the snow. This came with its own frustrations, as Jason and I kept post-holing waist deep into the snow. I wanted to shout and cry and just lay down every time this happened. My morale never felt lower.

I think one of my favorite things about hiking is just the simplicity of it. All you do is put left foot over right foot over left foot until you make it to your destination. The best I could do was focus on this as we continued our descent to Camp Muir. When we finally rounded the corner and saw it, I nearly wept. I felt terrible: I was out of water, my head was throbbing, my clothes were soaked from sweat, and my feet felt like they were about to fall off. The final steps into camp had me on the brink of collapsing.

I immediately rushed into the bunkhouse to take off my layers and try to hydrate and cool down. I laid in my bunk for a couple hours but didn’t feel any better. I was guzzling water but wasn’t peeing, which had me worried. I felt nauseous and dizzy and couldn’t cool down. Jenny came to check on me, and said that I probably had heat exhaustion, which is crazy to think of when you’re on a mountain covered in snow. She said that all the water I drank was diluting my body, and that my body was probably starved of electrolytes. She made me a quesadilla and brought me a Gatorade as I continued laying in bed.

After trying unsuccessfully to sleep it off, I went outside and proceeded to immediately throw up everything. The liter and a half of water I had drank since we got back came spewing out. The good thing is that this helped with my nausea! I still felt like ass, though. I went back into the bunkhouse and tried to sip the Gatorade and nibble the quesadilla as much as my body would allow me. Luckily, I was able to get a bit of a nap in too. I had gone the last 30 or so hours on only an hour of sleep, and my body was not happy about it.

The nap + Gatorade + quesadilla combo helped me to feel a lot better. It still felt like a struggle to get anything into my body. The rest of the team met with the guides to learn some knots since we had time to kill, but I didn’t have any strength to get out of bed. That was a low moment for me.

Night finally fell and it felt like a miracle that I was able to get some sleep. The wind was howling all night and there was a symphony of snoring coming from the other bunks. I woke up around 4 am and actually felt moderately ok, so I think my body was finally recovering.

I kept sleeping on and off until it got to be about time to go. We packed everything up and it was finally time to get the hell off this mountain. The Camp Muir to Paradise hike was almost enjoyable even. It was all downhill so we kept a good pace, and there were tons of “luge” spots where you could slide down on your ass. That’s my kind of descent.

After about 2 hours, we finally made it to the pavement of the Paradise parking lot, and I wanted to kiss the ground. We headed back to Ashford to return our rental gear and celebrate with our team over some beer and burgers.

Man, what an incredible experience this trip was! I loved how much fun our team was and how knowledgeable the guides were. We all kept each other in good spirits, and I got up and down the mountain (mostly) safely. That’s all I could really ask for. All in all, though, I think I’m ok to not do any more hikes for a little while. Only 48 more highpoints to go!

#hiking #rainier #mt rainer #mt rainer national park #highpointing #summit #snow #glacier #crevasse

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danalberard · 6 years ago

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Hit the Open Road on Buffalo’s Best Scenic Drives

Hey there all you Sunday joy-riders and open road fanatics! If you’re looking to take a pleasant drive to any one of our local destinations, this is the guide for you. Enjoy views of the Lake Erie shoreline, explore the keystone of Buffalo’s local renaissance or traverse the winding back roads that will bring you some of our favorite vistas, lookouts and natural wonders – with some of our favorite eateries and watering holes along the way. Hit the road, get in gear and enjoy all of the remarkable views and the fresh breeze that Buffalo has to offer.

The Waterfront Route From downtown Buffalo, take the Skyway over the Buffalo River and past the Outer Harbor. From the top of the skyway you’ll see the rolling waves of Lake Erie. There’s quite a bit to discover as you head South, so you have plenty of options whether you’re looking for a short trip or an all day excursion.

Head South on Route 5 along the shoreline. About 11 miles down the road, merge onto Old Lakeshore Road. Another 3.5 mile stretch will bring you to Graycliff Estate, one of Buffalo’s Frank Lloyd Wright structures. Enjoy a tour of this masterpiece of American architecture and learn about the restoration process that’s bringing Graycliff back to its days of glory.

As you head North on your way back to Buffalo, take Route 5 past Woodlawn Beach until you reach the exit for Tifft Nature Preserve. Make a left to get to Fuhrmann Boulevard where you’ll ride alongside Gallagher Beach and the Buffalo Small Boat Harbor. Stop by any of these locations around sunset to get an awe inspiring view over Lake Erie. Further up Fuhrmann Boulevard is the Buffalo Outer Harbor and Wilkeson Pointe. Turn off of Fuhrmann to get to Ohio Street where you’ll ride along the Buffalo River. Stops along the way include Buffalo Riverworks, Riverfest Park and saloons such as Ballyhoo and Swannie House. From there, a left on Perry brings you to the front door of Canalside, our one-of-a-kind entertainment destination hosting over 1,000 individual events throughout the year!

The Scenic Byway From downtown Buffalo take South Park Avenue South for about 7.5 miles. A left onto Big Tree Road will bring you to Route 20A. After 3.5 miles, 20A will deliver you to the heart of the beautiful Village of Orchard Park. In the village, make a right onto Route 277 for 6.5 miles. You’ll pass by Chestnut Ridge Park and find yourself in North Boston. Make a left onto Boston State Road and enjoy a relaxing ride for 15 miles to the Village of Springville, close to the geological wonder of Zoar Valley. A left on Springville’s idyllic Main Street will bring you to another left on US-219. Head South for 19 miles to Ellicottville where you can enjoy a seasonal pint at Ellicottville Brewing Company.

To close the Scenic Byway loop you’ll head back north along Route 242 for 3.5 miles and make a left on Route 240 in the Hamlet of Ashford. Cruise the dips and waves of 240 for 30 miles and make a right on Route 47/Mill Road. This leads you right into the quaint village of East Aurora. Chow down on a plate of saucy wings at Bar-Bill Tavern and shop for trinkets and knick-knacks at the world-famous Vidler’s 5 & 10. Head back West on Route 20A, once more through the Village of Orchard Park and along to South Park which will lead you right back into the city.

The World Wonder Buffalo has a natural world wonder right it its backyard! Taking the I-190 North from downtown Buffalo leads you along the Niagara River, over the bridge to Grand Island and to the Robert Moses Parkway after about 20 miles. The Robert Moses Parkway winds along the upper Niagara River all the way to Frederick Law Olmsted-designed Niagara Falls State Park. Stretch your legs and enjoy the beautiful views of the Niagara Gorge as you take in the power and majesty of Niagara Falls.

The Robert Moses Parkway continues North, winding along the beautiful green spaces that brightens the lower Niagara Gorge. From here, you can stop at favorite hiking trails within Whirlpool State Park and Devil’s Hole State Park (check for accessibility here). Keep cruising North and you’ll find yourself on the charming streets in the Village of Lewiston. Grab an iced coffee or some ice cream, peruse the shops and boutiques along Center Street and walk right to the shores of the lower Niagara River as the walls of the gorge reach high into the sunny blue sky. Back down Center Street, hop back on the I-190 South and you’ll be ushered directly back into the city of Buffalo.

The Road to Letchworth

On this calming drive, we’re heading back to East Aurora. But we can’t stay long… Ok, ok, you can get one more order of wings from Bar-Bill, but then it’s on Letchworth State Park – lovingly dubbed the Grand Canyon of the East. From EA, take Route 20A East for about 30 miles through the small countryside towns and villages, like Wales Center, Varysburg and Warsaw, that dot the path. Past the farms and orchards, beyond the towering wind turbines and over the rolling hills of Erie and Wyoming counties will bring you to Route 246. Make a right from 20A, through the Town of Perry and follow the signs that lead to the entrance of Letchworth State Park.

You’ll be astounded by incredible views of the upper, middle and lower falls that flow through the massive, naturally carved canyon. Listen for the sound of the train chugging along the tall iron bridge that spans the gorge hundreds of feet above upper falls. If you’ve come equipped with camping gear, pitch a tent for the night to maximize your adventure. As day breaks, a lovely morning drive back West down 20A awaits.

The post Hit the Open Road on Buffalo’s Best Scenic Drives appeared first on Visit Buffalo Niagara.

from Blog – Visit Buffalo Niagara https://www.visitbuffaloniagara.com/scenic-buffalo-fall-drives/

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kandadiff · 7 years ago

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Ashford : Midnight conversations (1)

I snuck out of Anne’s bakery effortlessly and ducked into the nearby alley way placing on my pink wig and put on a simple red facemask covering my lower face and hopped in a taxi to the docks where the arm dealer car sat. I figured the guns would be there it was the only place big enough to hold all these guns.

I knew it was dangerous to be out here so late at night and staring at the warehouse like a child looking into the window of a candy store but I was doing jumping jacks of joy in my mind. It was time to set everything into motion, The goddesses main source of income was arms dealing and thievery. I was handling stealing the high profile things they wanted to or at least making it harder for them to do it and now I was going to fuck with there guns. I smirked to myself before I heard a car pull up not to far away. I glanced at it and saw the Three Skulls etched on the side, The Brotherhood was here. I quickly turned on my heels and hopped back inside the taxi.

“I can’t believe we are stuck guarding this fucking warehouse tonight.” Robert said to Andrew as he leaned back staring at the far off building turning up the AC. “Why couldn’t he get one of marcels fucking nerdy friends to do it.”

“Well you did try and fuck Gemma.” Andrew smirked taking a bite of his deli sandwich “And the other gangs probably have someone looking after there shit too. I mean its full of everyones shipment of guns which I think Ed is a fucking retard for... why don’t we just steal all the guns and if they try and take it back shoot the shit out of them.”

“I’m all for it.” Robert said lazily then sat up in his seat after seeing some movement not so far away. “Who the fuck is that?” Andrew leaned forward in his seat, seeing a person staring at the warehouse, her hair was a shiny pink and she looked like she was studying it. Robert took out the gun from his pocket, the smooth metal feeling like home in his hands. He leaned forward some more to figure out who it was but accidently pressed the accelerator, the noise starled her and she hopped back in a taxi.

“Maybe she was from another gang.” Andrew shrugged leaning back in his seat and Robert sighed.

“Bitch looked like she was up to something. If fucking Ed would listen to me they wouldn’t dare hit against the Brotherhood.” Andrew shrugged again “Oh shut up.”

“Did you forget your key again, noona?” Jimin asked over the speaker, he was laughing and I heard Taehyungs laugh in the background.

“Yes” I yawned leaning against the door waiting to be buzzed in.

“How do I know if it’s really you?” he teased and I sighed not in the mood for his games.

“Jimin please let me in, I’m tired!” I whined and I heard him laughing again.

“But if your not Kalyn, I could get in trouble-”

“JIMIN!” I shouted and I heard the buzz unlocking the door and I closed it behind me as I walked up the stairs, Jimin opened his door when he heard me pass it.

“Noona!” He called after me “Come down here, I have someone who wants to see you!”

“I’d love too” I said not turning back “But I am so tired can it wait until the morning?”

“Namjoon!” He shouted walking back into his house not closing his door but I just continued going upstairs to my door cursing myself for forgetting my key at work. I leaned my forehead on the cold metal half-heartily trying the knob and the door opened. My joy was quickly replaced with alarm... why was my door unlocked? I took the knife out of my back holding it tightly in my hand as I opened the door just enough to sneak in but when I saw who was sitting on my couch I just opened the door.

“Hey Hurricane” Damien smiled holding up two black kittens “Osiris and Anubis missed there mother.” He placed small kisses on there fur and I couldn’t help but laugh immediately knowing where my keys went.

“Damien.” I plopped down on my couch next to him, Anubis, the smaller kitten meowing and jumping on my lap purring as I pet him. “Stop stealing my keys please.”

“I have too” He shrugged pulling me close to him “You won’t give me a copy.” I rolled my eyes and pushed him off of me, grabbing Osiris from his hands. The kittens two different color eyes looking up at me as he meowed. Damien pouted and threw his arm over my shoulders. “So how’d it go tonight? That boy still trying to get in your pants?”

I ignored his question about Jackson “It went fine, I found the warehouse now I just have to sabotage the guns.” I smiled at the kittens “That’s the easy part, I still have to break in.”

“Okay, what do I do?” He asked pressing himself closer to me.

“Go home.” I stated clearly standing up, the kittens following me to the kitchen. Unfortunately they weren’t the only ones and I felt Damien behind me. He pressed me into the fridge, one hand holding me into place while the other tilted up my chin.

“Don’t you want me to stay here? We can keep discussing what to do to take down that bitch or” He trailed his fingertips up my arm “other things.”

“D” I pushed myself onto him so our lips were an inch apart “Go home.” I leaned down and went under his arm grabbing the kittens bowls and filling them with water and some salmon meat I had left over.

“Hurricane” Damien said in a stern voice but I just laughed “Don’t do this to me-”

“Noona!” It was Taehyung and given the amount of footsteps I heard it wasn’t just him coming up the stairs. “If you’re soo tired why aren’t you asleep-” he opened the door a few boys behind him, Namjoon the man who owned this building and who I only met a few times in the company of Yoongi and Jimin until he was back in the hallway. Taehyung looked at him with a guilty and apologetic look.

“geunyeoui jib-eul musihaji masibsio.geunyeoege chodaejang-eul yocheonghasibsio. (Don’t be disrespectful to her house. Ask her for an invitation.)” The man said in Korean and rolled his eyes switching back to English when he looked at me. “I’m sorry about him Kalyn, sometimes he forgets his manner.”

“Don't worry about it.” I smiled at him and Damien stood slightly in front of me watching each man who stood in the doorway.

“She was just going to sleep,” Damien added walking closer to the door. “It’s best of you all leave.”

“Who are you?” Taehyung asked and I saw Damien’s eyes narrow but I quickly jumped in.

“It looks like I forgotten my manners as well,” I pull Damien back “this is my brother Damien, he was actually just leaving.” He glared at me in surprise then anger as I pushed him out of my apartment. “And I really am sorry boys but I am really tired, if you all wouldn’t mind...”

“No of course” namjoon said and when he spoke all the boys around him stopped to listen. “We’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” I nodded “Goodnight Kay” His smile was warm and his dimples charming, Damien clenched his fists but I gave a warned shake of my head to him and instead he stomped down the stairs.

“Goodnight boys.” I closed the door and sighed looking around ofr the two small kittens, I heard oen hissing down the hallway to the my dark room. “Anubis? Osiris?” I called out hearing the hissing as I turned on the lights to my bedroom seeing what-who they were hissing at.

You sat on my bed, your legs crossed and your hair a little disheveled. “We need to talk.”

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