#Boat Share Gold Coast

[alfieco]

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[h2ojustaddmako]

GUYSSS!

So a while ago I said I wanted to make a collection of H2O merchandise for the mature audience/merch that is not automatically clockable as H2O themed. After dropping a Bella & the Band design, it was very well received and I started working on a few more things... So, today's the day!

This first drop contains 10 designs, available on t-shirts, hoodies, as stickers, magnets, hats, tote bags, and what not, including customisable colours. Welcome to the H2hoe: Just Add Merch! Collection.

The Life I Was Promised / H2hoe Water Bottle

These first two are inspired by some of the posts and memes on my page. The minute I wrote that line with Cleo in the bath I found it hilarious, and it was indeed a very popular post. The water bottle design says "Stay hydrated, you h2hoe" with the H2hoe shoe logo on the bottle, for the keen eyed.

Mako Island Tours / Greetings from Mako Island

These two were meant to be like, holiday souvenirs from your trip to the Gold Coast. One from a "business" of boat tours around Mako, while the other is more in postcard style.

Rikki's Café / JuiceNet

These two were tricky to come up with, cause restaurants don't really have merchandise. I made a mock up receipt from each cafe (including some references in the listed items 👀). You're gonna confuse a lot of people bout why you're wearing a receipt on your shirts, but if they know, they know.

No Ordinary Girl Form / Full Moon Spell

These were also semi-inspired by the memes on this page. The first one is a job application form, with some memorable lyrics :)

And of course, no one can hold you accountable for full moon fever, girlboss.

Bella & the Band #1 and #2

These two were posted here before, so I'm just gonna quickly mention if you missed 'em. First one is a tour merch for whatever fictional tour apparently happened during the summer of 2011. The other design is more of a poster with all band members and song titles.

AND THERE YOU HAVE IT!

All designs, as well as some of my older ones (like the H2O and Mako Eras tour posters!) are available on my Redbubble collection page!

CLICK HERE TO CHECK EVERYTHING OUT

and plz plz plz repost, share, whatever this is called. I worked really hard on those and if they do well I'd do some more designs I have in mind (so many were planned ffs)

[grogusmum]

WIP WEDNESDAY/THURSDAY

thanks for tagging me @nerdieforpedro Honestly I'm just glad I have something new to share. I have had other lovely moots tag me for WIP games and I've just had nothing, my writer's block has been going on for months, BUT I did make some progress!! WooHoo

Okay so as I understand it, I share two snippets?

From A Dark and Stormy Night (Lighthouse Keeper!Frankie Morales x f!Reader)

When you join Frankie in the kitchen, where he is again standing over the stove, a delicious scent reminds you of coming home after a long walk from school. The wind is howling and you can hear the crash of the waves, the pound of them light rumbling thunder, its only rival the whip crack of the actual thunder chasing the lighting strikes illuminating the windows.  “Where’s Cisco?” “Weather like this he likes to be below,” Frankie says back still turned, “I have him set up with his bed down there so he doesn’t get anxious.” “Oh,” you finally feel a little more at ease about not seeing neither hide nor hair of the beast of a dog all day. “It’s going to be dark early due to the storm and I’ll have duties up above. I’m going to ask you to stay in the living quarters. I’ll sleep up there so, um. Just - make yourself at home.”    

From A KInd Hearted Woman (Depression Era!Ezra x f!Reader)

Ezra had been riding the rails for several years now, picking up jobs where he could. Making his way up from the Gulf Coast looking for work. A factory here, a fishing boat there, both dangerous endeavors, but he was a lucky fellow. His mother always said he was like a tomcat with nine lives, but with every life he gambled she paid for it with a new gray hair to show for it. For all his near misses, it wasn't until he got a contract to prospect gold in Georgia that his luck was truly tested, and it was not at the cost of his dear mother's hair but his dominant arm. But he gained a compatriot after her father was killed in those same hills. Nevertheless, finding the odd job, let alone a steady paycheck was all but impossible.  He had never been so far north, luckily the seasons were turning toward the warm months up this way and they didn't have to worry about snow or freezing temperatures. The question he had on his mind was if they should go to a city where there are ample jobs, but also ample people- most with both hands to work with… or try somewhere small, where there are fewer prospects, but of course fewer people to do them, and perhaps some small town kindness for good measure.

no pressure tags @oonajaeadira @insomniamamma @writeforfandoms @ezrasbirdie @quicax3 @prolix-yuy @katareyoudrilling @morallyinept @chaoticgeminate

[arokel]

In the West

Rating: G Characters: Bobby Moch Summary: That’s why Bobby’s staying, really; that’s why he’s putting it off.

ao3

Bobby has seen a few east coast sunsets in his life - always this time of year, usually accompanied by a similar grouping of guys - but he’s never quite gotten used to the ways they differ from sunsets back home. There are no mountains in the way, for one; the sun just sinks and sinks until it vanishes over the horizon. There’s no lingering pale-blue glow just above and beyond the snow-caps even as the rest of the sky goes dark. It makes the night feel swifter, more abrupt.

It sets over land, too, which is even stranger. All Bobby’s life he’s known that the sun sets in the west, towards the sea. Out far enough on the coast, from the bay in Montesano, you can watch it submerge, reflecting gold off the silver-grey waters as it disappears. This way around just feels wrong.

He’s never given those differences too much thought before, on any of the other nights he’s spent like this in his four years of train trips east to race. But right now everything feels unnatural - the artificial stillness of a man-made lake, no breeze off the water to stir the muggy air; the nervous, expectant energy of another race to come mingling with the victorious flush on the race just won; the odd sense of poetic fitness that today, of all days, their Olympic dreams are now within their reach.

“What’s that thing, from Bolles’ thesis?” Chuck asks, head tipped towards the pale lilac sky. The wisps of smoke off his cigarette curl upwards to twine amongst the rising smoke of their bonfire, a wavering, hazy filter over the newly-appearing stars. “Some guy at Camp Lewis today in eighteen-whenever?”

“Eighteen-forty-one,” Shorty says.

“How the hell’d you just know that?”

Shorty uses the stick with which he’s been drawing patterns in the dirt to nudge one of the supporting logs into a better position. “I’ve got a good head for facts.”

“Maybe we should start calling you the professor. Now that there’s going to be an opening,” Johnny says.

“Nah,” Shorty says easily, “if anyone’s inheriting that it’ll be dear old Bobby here.”

And that’s the other thing that isn’t quite right about this whole scene.

Shorty’s re-positioned log crackles and flares with a new lick of flames, sending sparks up into the column of smoke. They hang suspended there, dancing like fireflies for a brief moment before they flicker out. Roger yelps and hurries to extinguish the few that have managed to find their way onto his shirt before dying.

Bobby has only ever seen fireflies out east, too. And next year he won’t be here to see them again.

“I won’t be anything nearly so professorial,” he says. “Just an assistant coach.”

He could come back here. That was always his plan: graduate, win Poughkeepsie, then on to law school at the most prestigious east coast college that would take him. It feels wrong to pause in the middle of that, to linger in a space that was always meant to be in-between - this final summer, his last hurrah as a college athlete, a farewell to the only sport he’s ever loved for its own sake. Bobby isn’t one to draw out goodbyes.

But after this year, after rowing with these guys… for the first time in his life, Bobby isn’t ready to move on to the next big thing.

“Bob?”

It’s Joe, speaking quietly into the new silence around the fire. Bobby blinks.

“Sorry, lost in thought. It’s going to be weird, not having him around.”

The sky, with its ever-surprising east coast alacrity, has grown noticeably darker in the time Bobby spent wallowing in his own second-guessing. The finality of it makes him anxious.

No one else seems to share his melancholy, though there is a wistful edge to Gordy’s laugh when he speaks, eyes gleaming through the hazy dark. “I’ll say. Who’s going to put together a freshman crew good enough to swap a few of ‘em into our boat next year?”

Now the laughter around the circle turns uneasy - no one wants to think about the others leaving any more than they want to think about Bobby.

That’s why Bobby’s staying, really; that’s why he’s putting it off. No matter what happens two days from now, no matter what happens in Berlin, he wants to hold on to this as long as he can. A drawn-out goodbye. The sun setting behind the mountains and into the sea.

“Me, that’s who. You’re not rid of me yet,” he says. He closes his eyes, breathes in smoke and warm air and camaraderie, and when he opens them, the day is gone.

He’ll get used to east coast sunsets someday. But not yet.

[demon-princess13]

wrote a draft for session 0 of my next campaign. I always write a little hook/monologue before I have to answer 194747393 questions about the setting, wanted to share it here!!

(edits/criticisms welcome, I only spent like 20 mins on this and there’s bound to be mistakes)

here’s to more of my obsession with Tiamat & Dragons

_

You step off your boat, onto a coastline decorated with fishermen, the early morning sun enhancing their sunburnt faces. You watch them; fly fishing the coast or preparing their own boats for castoff, enjoying the peace for the moment you allow yourself.

Leaving the captain of the for-hire ship to handle the rest of docking, you step to the sandy shoreline and onto a dirt path cut into the thick woods. A few feet through and a warm scent wafts up to your nostrils; reminding you of street fairs with their roasting meat & endless jugs of brew. Following the smell, you come upon a quaint town with houses of emerald green and gold, seeming to glisten in the sunlight. In one window a pair of large, glowing yellow eyes looks at you curiously before disappearing back into the shadows of the unlit home.

Taking your first glance upwards, you find yourself taken aback by the sight of hundreds of winged creatures in flight above you. So many different colours, sizes, and shapes it’s impossible to focus clearly on any one of them.

In the distance looms a castle, the red of its walls visible even from its resting place atop a mountain. The top of the castle is lost in the clouds, but a weak amber glow shines through them. How tall is it? You can’t be certain.

As you stare, enjoying a sight some only ever dream of- a glob of flaming goo lands just feet in front of you. Your thoughts are interrupted by the burp of a 20ft tall dragon who’s sat, contentedly licking up his flaming sick.

“Sorry about that! This one’s on a new die- oh. I’ve never seen ye before. New to town? No wonder you’re standing there with that stupid look on your face. Follow me, I’ll help ye find some lodgings.” A nearly toothless man grins, jumping off his mount and patting the disgusting creature on the head. “Seems you’ll be needing all the help we can offer” he chuckles, handing you a ration and linking his arm in yours. “Let’s be off then!! To a bed! My names Timny, by the way! Nice to meetcha!”

And so it begins. A new adventure

(( “invitation” story: One day, while sitting at home eating breakfast, a small bird sized lizard flies into your window and perches upon your table; where it drops you a small scroll held together by a golden ribbon. As you grasp the scroll, the tiny dragon puffs into smoke and disappears. The scroll reads as follows: “Tiamats whispers grow louder, and she has been whispering your name. Make your way to the point on the map below, if you hope to change your fate from one of fire.” As you finish reading each word, they disappear into thin plumes of smoke; revealing pieces of a map laid behind the enchantment. A small X marks an island a few days journey away. ))

((If a character chooses not to take part in the trip to the island right away, they find themselves plagued with nightmares of a five headed dragon during their sleeping hours, and nearly silent whispers in their mind during their waking ones. The map will reappear in any bag, closet or cupboard opened until the journey is taken.))

[gracehateseggnog]

the alcott ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ will turner x oc

summary: will turner has left minerva's hidden island without as much as a note. the following week, she sees a vision and feels his death on her fingertips. can she find him before it's too late?

pairing: will turner x fem!oc

word count: 6.1k

a/n: minerva is heavily based on morgana le fay's depiction in the mists of avalon book. for some background: she's the ruler of a hidden island off the coast of wales. all of the prayers used are basic pagan prayers with a bit of editing to match her religion, and the welsh is badly translated from google, but has translations of what it was meant to be!

tw: angst, a bit of gore, mentions of infertility and miscarriages.

gif creds: unknown

Minerva awoke the morning after her court’s gathering to an empty bed, save herself. She wept until the late hours of the afternoon, then cursed herself for thinking so foolishly, and dressed herself to protect her handmaidens’ eyes from her poor state.

༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

“We can work something out!”

Commonly, when Jack Sparrow found himself on the deck of another man’s pirate ship, he was pillaging it and foraging for any gold coins or rum left in the Captain’s Quarters, pulling down flags and replacing it with his own depending on if the boat was as beautiful as his was or not—usually it was not. Now, he stood at starboard, near the plank of the ship, hands bound behind his back and his feet tied together with the same, thick twine. He didn’t dare wriggle and cost blood to be spilt, many Captains, including himself, would roar with anger at the thought of their deck becoming stained with the fruits of their own cruelty, instead, he continued to negotiate, to haggle using his ‘charm’ that nobody truly believed existed and had worked as commonly as he boasted it did in the past, in order to get himself off the ship and back to Wales, where the search for John Callis’ treasure would resume.

Captain Sparrow’s actions were unmistakably unique when standing next to Will Turner, who fought every moment that he could to unwind the rope from around his wrists. His skin was already raw and bruised, bleeding from the friction and staining the twine he was captured with. His struggle had already gained him a deep sword cut against his hairline, blood dripping into his eyes and across his forehead, and a dagger to the stomach, which still hadn’t been released from its embedment in his skin. This treasure had only been trouble since the very beginning, though he supposed the karmatic rules that Minerva believed in had only given him a visit on this day, for all the moments he shared on the island of Cantre'r Gwaelo, according to her philosophies, he was bound to have something bad happen in return, and his capture atop this enemy pirate ship seemed the perfect punishment.

“We’ve got lots to offer!” Jack continued. “Gold, jewelry, a map to a’ old Welsh treasure, some very attractive deckhands—”

“A map, you say?”

Will didn’t miss the twinkle in his Captain’s eye as the pirate opposite him sneered with sudden interest and stepped forward, he was taking the bait Jack had laid out for him. “Yes! Apparently, it’s worth more than both our ships, combined.”

“How much exactly, Sparrow?”

“A couple hundred…”

“A couple hundred what?”

“Gold.”

“Hmph.” The pirate scoffed, “We ain’t lookin’ for gold.”

“You're pirates. Of course you're looking for gold!”

“We’re lookin’ for ‘im.”

With a wandering eye, the pirate turned his gaze to Will, one hand placed firmly on the hilt of his longsword and the other flat against his hip. Many enemies were to be made as a pirate, Will knew that as well as the next person, but there was always a shock when the person angry with The Black Pearl had it out for Will rather than Jack. The pirate eyed him up with a squinting gaze, stepping forward and causing Will to scooch backwards out of instinct to get away, forgetting the iron grip weights tied against his ankles, rubbing back and forth against his skin painfully and making him wince. He didn’t know what to do, truly. Usually, Jack had some sort of exciting negotiation or escape plan ready, and all he would have to do was give Will a look for him to know that they would be in the clear, that his mastermind personality had come to shine once again. But Jack’s face stayed stoic, and he did not dare to look to his left at Will.

He wondered if he should pray, Minerva did, she had done so often, but had never told him that he should, only taught him how. His father wasn’t a Christian man, if he was he would’ve been quite a bad one considering his actions as a pirate, but Minerva wasn’t either, she had beliefs incomparable to the rest of the modern world, beliefs that most on her island believed as well. She had told him that praying would never increase his luck or karmatic value, but often for her, it eased her mind and told her that her Gods, whoever they were, were truly listening. Perhaps it wouldn’t stop him from getting pushed off this boat, but maybe it would convince Minerva’s Gods to take it just a little bit easier on him. In all truth, he had no idea how any of it worked, Christian nor Pagan, but he was willing to give it a try if it meant his life or his death.

‘Mam pob peth, gwylia drosof heno, dal fi yn dy freichiau, tan olau boreuol.’ 

Mother of all things, watch over me tonight,

Hold me in your arms, until the morning light.

Even through thought, Will could not speak Welsh as Minerva did, and butchered nearly every word, but hoped that it was enough to prove his life was worth saving.

“‘is father’s Bootstrap Bill, d’ya know tha’?” The pirate asked, swinging his gaze over to Jack, who widened his eyes at the sudden confrontation, then furrowed his brows. “We ‘eard you was travelling with ‘is kid, Sparrow—”

“Captain—”

“—but we didn’t think ya’d be stupid enough to let ‘im get captured. Again!” The pirate howled with laughter only caused by his own remark, which Will didn’t really find all that funny in the first place.

“He’s not under my jurisdiction, he’s quite the idiot.” Jack then turned to look at Will, his eyes filled with the anger he had nearly trademarked for himself, and Will shrunk down, since the whole altercation was really mostly his fault. “But I’ve got the map to this ol’ treasure, so we can all go on our merry ways with a nice split. Savvy?”

The pirate’s jaw moved slightly to the left. “No. Vesh!”

Will Turner did not get to see who the deckhand Vesh was before a large club was beaten over the back of his head. Pain seared up through his hair only for a moment before his entire vision blacked out, and his mind slipped into the world of painlessness, yet unconsciousness. Jack looked at him with a sense of empathy, knowing all too well the shock of getting hit over the head, and that of the experience of fainting from the impact. The head pirate of the captor ship didn’t waste a moment before pushing him off the ledge of the ship, leaving the ever sinking body of William Turner to plummet to the sands underneath the North Atlantic Ocean. 

༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

She had stopped counting the days after the first week passed. Will Turner had left the mists without so much as a goodbye, or even the half-decency to leave a note on her bedside table, a gesture she would have greatly appreciated despite his horrendous penmanship. Minerva wanted to believe that her reasoning for ceasing to etch the tally marks of the days passed into anything she could find was simply because he had left and she was so incredibly angry because of it, but she knew the truth was deep inside her, and that truth was that she loved him so deeply the days blended into one another. Her scatteredness of time wasn’t just caused by the mists that separated her from the clocks that ticked away in Europe, but because her eyes were in such a haze she could not think properly for the most part, except for diplomatic reasons, of which hadn’t been addressed in a while. She supposed she looked as miserable as she was.

The dining hall that once seemed so small when it was just Will and her sitting at the end of it, eating their weight in fish had turned into something daunting, somewhere that transformed into a place she felt so small in, not like she owned it as she did. Minerva sat at the head of the table, the foggy light cascading through the stained glass window behind her and creating an ethereal glow around her as she looked at the plate of food in front of her. Even nourishing herself had begun to feel like a chore, and she often felt so grief-stricken for not only herself, but for her people that could not care for themselves without a leader such as herself, and were now stuck dealing with her future predecessor, Conwinna, who was much too young—six and ten, to be exact—but Minerva supposed that she was being offered great experience and allowed the Lady to grieve in peace.

“My Lady.”

Minerva’s head shot up from her stuck gaze on her platter of fish, suddenly feeling a loss of appetite as the figure in front of her was not who called her ‘my Lady’ as an endearing term, just one of her guards that had called her by her correct title. She was surely going mad. “Yes, Sir Gerbaut? What is it you require?”

Sir Gerbaut bowed, then returned to stand tall. “Sovereign Conwinna is requesting your assistance with Elder Apolduc’s family. He has fallen ill and they are requesting the Castle to take him to his final resting place in South Wales.”

“What is there to confuse?” Minerva shook her head, pushing both palms of her hands against the wood of the dining table and standing up, her chair scratching against the stone floors as it moved backwards. “He will need to be escorted by soldiers and our nobleman’s boat. You may escort him, if you so wish. I know he was your mentor for a time.”

“Thank you, my Lady.” Sir Gerbaut nodded.

“Is there anything else?”

“Sovereign Conwinna is doing better than you may assume, my Lady.”

“Is that so?”

“She has kept her composure.”

“That is not what makes a Lady of Cantre'r Gwaelo. Composure is not enough, she must know that empathy is not the only emotion one can have, though I am giving it to Elder Apolduc and his family this time.”

“She is only six and ten.”

“I was three and ten, Sir Gerbaut. I have taken ease upon her, which seems to be a mistake now that she is sitting atop my throne, her training and prayers should have started years ago, not now.”

“She is trying her hardest—”

“That is not good enough!” Minerva caught her voice raised in her throat, and settled it just as soon as it had crawled up. If Conwinna could continue her composure through her hardest times, she had to, as well, despite the ache in her chest. “There is trying until you break, and there is passing that stone brick wall that you must climb thorns and ivy to clear. If she does not find that out now, I fear she never will. You are dismissed.”

Sir Gerbaut nodded and bowed to Lady Minerva once more before turning his metal heel the opposite way, disappearing through the large, wooden doors and into the main court room, leaving his Lady behind in the dining hall alone with the ghost of the man she had once loved, but still loved all at once. She grieved for someone that hadn’t died, but had left such a cavity in her chest that she feared would never fill, no matter how many men she would court in hopes of an heir that was not her orphaned niece. Minerva was not naive enough to believe that the kind of love she felt for Will only passed her lifetime once, but she did not want to believe that any man could rip out her heart as the pirate had done. Perhaps after her reign, she would live the rest of her life in the church of Cantre'r Gwaelo, singing and awaiting the day her promise would return.

A deep, pained groan ripped from her lips as her chest suddenly lit with fire and froze both at the same time, pain striking through her sternum like a bolt of lightning and a roar of thunder. Minerva nearly doubled over, but kept her balance with one hand against the top of the table, her other clutched in between her breasts to mark the pain, in a futile way to ease whatever bubbled inside her. She cried out in agony as the pain only rippled and doubled in torment, clawing at the inside of her ribs as if something was inside of her, trying desperately to escape. Hacking coughs soon followed from her mouth, yet nothing, blood or saliva exited, as if she was drowning from the very air she breathed. Her chest lit with the searing sensation of burning, and her knees and body fell to the floor, her hand slipping off of the table and slicing her palm open with a deep splinter.

Footsteps rushed into the room. “Lady Minerva!” Sir Gerbaut cried out, then turned back to the open door from whence he had come. “The Lady has fallen! Gather her handmaidens!” He shouted, the metal of his armour scraping against its own pieces and creating a dreadful noise as he dropped down to look at Minerva. “My Lady, can you hear me?”

But Lady Minerva did not see Sir Gerbaut as he looked upon her pale, grieving face, nor did she see her handmaidens grasp at her hands to check for the constant beating in her wrists. No, because in that moment, she saw William Turner, eyes shut as if in a peaceful slumber, floating in the sea, without a gasp of breath passing into his lips, his hands bound by rope, and his legs shackled with iron weights. A scream clawed up at her throat, tears pricking in her eyes, this is what she had felt, the drowning was her body against his, her feelings his own. She then noticed the blood surrounding him, the deep gash across his forehead and floating through the water, the darkness that stained his coat and bruises surrounding his ankles and wrists from the binds. Minerva then knew this was what she was meant to see, the Gods she knew had given one last vision of his breath to her so she could be with him.

Minerva shot up from her position on the floor, coughing once, twice, and once more before looking up at Sir Gerbaut, her eyes bloodshot and skin a sickly pale, but both returning to their natural hues as the moments passed. “My horse. Gather my horse.” When Sir Gerbaut hesitated, Minerva cried, “Now!” and he left the room in haste by her command. “Help me up.”

The worried handmaidens each placed a hand beneath her arms, pulling her gently up to her feet. Her—Will’s—pain and weakness had gone just as quick as it had come, and her fire was fueled by the knowledge she needed to get to him, wherever he had disappeared to in the sea. He could not be far from the coast of Wales, if he had followed the directions of the map, but her rationale told her there was not much she could do other than look, but he would surely be filled with water instead of life before she could drain the ocean for her love. She would try, nonetheless, and she would refill it with her own tears if she had to. Her feet stabilized on the ground and as soon as she gained her balance, Minerva swept the bottom of her green dress against the flooring of her castle and left the dining room, rushing down the court room, ignoring the worried pleas from Sovereign Conwinna before pushing the large front doors open, and disappearing down the stairs.

Sir Gerbaut met her at the bottom of the winding stairs that led to her castle, holding the reins of her horse Marchogion ready for Minerva to take. She grasped onto them and pushed her feet into Marchogion’s stirrups, clicking her heels against his fur and turning away from the castle, cantering down the remaining few steps and into the town. Citizens gasped as she rode through the cobbles, the only thing protecting her from the elements being the cloak over her head and shoulders and her casual dress over the rest of her. She hadn’t time to prepare if her visions were true, which they had never been untrue as far as she had lived, and if Will was drowning… She tried not to think about how long he had truly been beneath the water, devoid of air and sunlight, tears streamed down her cheeks, nearly freezing against her skin as she galloped under the archway into the city, now facing the mists.

With a flick of her palm, they veiled behind her, protecting the stone walls from outsiders as she drove her horse as fast as he would run towards the Northern docks, where boats lay across the water, anchored to the ground and only to be used by those willing to forsake Cantre'r Gwaelo for the rest of their mortality. Minerva did not allow her mind to ponder what would wait for her on the outside of the mists that she controlled, or what would happen to her once she crossed the sea border of her island. She had never left in her twenty years, she had never even set foot upon the waters that graced the edges of the Isle, just the water that touched the lakes, small rivers, and streams that made their way through the mossy grounds. A short prayer to the Gods spoken in a murmur to only herself she hoped would do the trick to help her on her journey, to not get accused as a witch as had happened to many of her kinswomen that came before her as soon as she stepped foot on mainland.

“Mam pob peth, gwylia drosof heno, dal fi yn dy freichiau, tan olau boreuol.”

Mother of all things, watch over me tonight, Hold me in your arms, until the morning light.

The mists of her island parted in front of her as if sensing her prayers, and the shore lined with three wooden boats became visible through the sudden clearing. Thanking the Gods, Minerva slid off her horse, giving Marchogion as short of a stroke across the back of the neck as she could before picking up the bottom of her dress and running through the grass and to the shore. She didn’t pay mind as her feet and dress grazed the cold, rushing water beneath her as she stepped onto the rocks, hastily untying the rope of the center boat from one of the man-made posts. The skin that touched the ocean water began to prick with pain from the cold, but she paid no mind, even as the waves licked her shins and drenched the bottom of her dress. All she cared about was getting to the mainland for Will as she pulled at the small sail, pushing harshly against the back of the boat to get it dislodged from the rock it had been docked atop of—nobody had used any of the boats in so many years, there was no point in truly anchoring them if they could harbour them on land without any trouble—and leaping on, bidding a ‘goodbye’ to her island.

Minerva raised her arms above her head, joining her hands in the center and creating a triangle with her fingers. Then, she spoke, “Dduwies Mam helpa fi i fod yn amyneddgar ac yn gryf, i weld beth sy'n wirioneddol bwysig, i weithredu heb hunanoldeb nac ofn. Duw tad elpa fi i ymddiried yn dy ddoethineb, i wrthsefyll ffordd y llwfrgi, i rodio mewn ffydd a thosturi, i fod yn wirioneddol ddynol o ran ysbryd a chalon.”

Goddess Mother help me, to be patient and strong, to see what is truly important, to act without selfishness or fear. God Father help me to trust your wisdom, to resist the coward’s way, to walk in faith and compassion, to be truly human in spirit and heart.

She pulled her hands apart slowly, and the thick mists in front of her veiled like a curtain of a window, allowing her to see the true, blue sky for the first time. The air was much different than in Catre'r Gwaelo, in a way worse yet better, clearer yet muggier. Clouds only dotted the blue every once in a while, though she could see thunderous clouds looming far in the distance, far in the distance towards where she needed to go. If Will was drowning like she had seen, the lightning would only do him worse considering the metal binds keeping his legs from separating and the rest of his body from floating. Everything felt like fire to Minerva, her eyes as she tried not to weep before she had even caught sight of him, her legs as they fought against the rigidness of the water they had been whipped with. At the discovery of a whole new life outside of her own, perhaps she would have cried out in excitement of it all, but instead, she looked painfully out to sea and tugged against the sail rope once more, setting off for the mainland.

༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻

When the beaches of Brandy Cove, Gower came into Minerva’s gaze, she nearly collapsed into her boat. The sand was what she had seen in the background of her vision, the large mountains that shielded the newfound civilizations of South Wales from seeing such a dastardly act occur on a ship on the water. But the ship had gone, it was the only thing that had changed, and as she neared closer, she peered as far into the water as she could, begging the Gods for a sign of Will. The water swayed peacefully beneath her as sprinkling rain poured overhead, wetting her hair slightly and making it stick to the back of her neck and the apples of her cheeks. Her sails flapped and floundered against the oncoming wind as the boat began to reach land, the sight of the beautiful sandy beaches of Gower coming into view, and signifying her first steps onto land that was not her own. It was terrifying, but she could barely think about how monumental the moment was for her, not when—

“Ah!” Minerva cried out in a voice that didn’t sound her own when it slipped past her lips, not with the pain and sorrow that painted her chest red.

There, in the darkness of the clouds that covered the once blue sky, she could see the faint silhouette of an ever-sinking body in the ocean, mixing between the tall-growing kelp and the fish that nipped and prodded at its clothing. She didn’t have to recognize him, she knew it was Will from the pain that threatened to crush the inside of her chest as soon as she caught a glimpse of him. His hair and clothes looked the same shape as he had worn when he first arrived at Cantre'r Gwaelo, albeit it was more tousled and unkempt in the water. The final thing Minerva saw from him before taking action was the thick, red colour of blood floating around his floating body, pouring out from his forehead and stomach and dispersing into the water, creating a hazy cloud around him of his own innards, it nearly made her throw up into the boat.

Without missing a moment, Lady Minerva dove from the inside of her boat into the sea, landing with a splash and taking a few seconds before opening her eyes completely and letting them sting in pain just to see Will. She pushed herself forward and swam through the water, blinking back the irritation in her eyes and the horrid feeling of her brown dress becoming utterly soaked by the saltwater. Soon enough, her vision was clouded by his blood, her chest seizing with pain as she looked upon his limp frame in the ocean. He didn’t look as peaceful as the dead, which gave Minerva a slight sense of hope for his life, but his eyebrows were furrowed deep, his lips in a frown as if he was still in pain, even in his unconscious state. Everything about where he was and how he looked filled her with dread, the dread that she was simply too late and he was past recovering crept up into her gut.

She used everything in her power not to let out a gasp in shock as she finally took a look over Will. A huge gash ran across the front of his forehead, nearly lining the wrinkles that would appear whenever he raised his eyebrows in question and wonder. The hilt of a dagger was the next thing Minerva spotted, dug deep into the left side of his stomach, right near the junction of his hip bone. Two iron clasps were fastened together around his ankles to weigh him down, reminding her that he continued to sink towards the bottom of the sea at every moment that passed, and his hands were tied together at his back with thick, twine rope. Whoever had done this to him wanted him hurt badly, and Minerva tried her best not to think about what would happy after she saved him, if these people would try to come after him again or not, as she swam around him.

One of each of Minerva’s hands snaked in between Will’s torso and his bound arms, hooking underneath his armpits and meeting in the middle of his chest, pushing inwards so she could get as best a grip on him as she could in the water. Kicking her legs, she began to swim upwards with the limp man in her arms, slowly but surely to the surface of the water. The iron clamps weighed them down significantly, but it didn’t make the journey impossible, just slower than Minerva anticipated. Her chest began to burn with the need for fresh air but her resolve didn’t falter, she had felt worse pain, physical and mental, in her life beforehand, she could handle this much. Will’s hair was matted and floated around her face, an increasingly painful reminder of how she loved to run her fingers through it when it wasn’t caked in blood and saltwater. She shook her head in remorse for the memory, and took one final push forward before breaking through the water.

Coughs racked her body first, seizing her chest and running her throat dry with each hack and gasp for air. Will still didn’t move in Minerva’s arms, so she barely took a moment before pulling him the short distance to the sandy shore, her biceps beginning to contract in pain with each push forward. He was quite a lot heavier than she was, and the water soaking both of them head-to-toe didn’t help in the slightest, especially when it came to her dress. She could see her small boat, beached atop the sand, the sail having led it to the coast she needed to be on. Her prayers to her Gods had been answered, perhaps, as she knew there were decent enough medical supplies and herbs on board prepared, hopefully enough to repair the cut on his forehead and the deep stab in his abdomen. His chest was the uncertainty for her, if he had breathed in the seawater he was submerged in, she wasn’t sure if she could get it out of him, but she damn sure would try.

With a final heave of Will’s body, Minerva pushed them both onto the sand, coating her wet dress and skin in a fine layer of the granules, her hair caked in a mix of the sand, water, and Will’s blood. She didn’t allow her legs to wobble when she stood up, as much as they protested against her movement after hauling such a heavy weight against the calm ocean, and she stepped towards her boat. Her hands found a  small, wooden box off to the right side of the ship that she grasped onto tightly, heaving upwards and holding against her stomach as she walked back to Will. She could hear the squelching of her feet in her shoes, the hair and sand that stuck to her skin uncomfortably, and the pain in her eyes from opening them underwater, but she pressed forward, dropping to her knees on Will’s right side and placing the medicinal box down in front of her.

“Please…” Minerva begged as she opened the hatch of the wooden box. Inside was an organized platter of different Catre'r Gwaelian medicine herbs, bandages, tools for stitching, small bottles of rum and other liquor, and herbs for pain, which hopefully she wouldn’t need to use up until Will woke up. “Thank the Gods.”

First, she grabbed a piece of cloth and one of the bottles of rum, biting her teeth against the cork and yanking it out, spitting it somewhere into the sea behind her. With one hand on the thick cloth and another on the bottle, she poured a generous amount of the liquor into the cloth, dampening it in its entirety and spilling some of it over her hand, making her hiss in pain when the liquid ran over some of the messy cuts on her palm. Minerva pushed herself forward in the sand and gently placed the cloth over the large cut on Will’s forehead, trying not to let tears fall from her eyes when his body made no reaction to what was surely a painful sensation. She continued to wipe it down to the best of her ability, covering the fabric with a mix of his blood, water, and the dirt that had accumulated from the exhaustion of travelling. She wondered how long they had been away from the island.

Then came the bandage. Since it was only a surface-level cut and not nearly as deep as the one caused by the dagger in his side, Minerva knew it wouldn’t need stitches, or at least, the stitches could wait until they returned to her island, or he ventured deeper into the towns and cities of Wales and England, or went back to The Black Pearl. She carefully placed one end of the bandage at the left side of his hairline, then took it around the back of his head, gently lifting up the back of his neck so she could wrap it around his forehead once, twice, three times, until she reached the other end of the bandage. Her hands grasped around a metal safety pin in the box, and she was vigilant not to cut herself on the sharp end before weaving it in and out of the bandage, securing it in place. Few splotches of blood managed to seep through her handywork, which meant that the blood was stilling, which was a good sign of his survival.

Minerva let out a shaky breath and gazed upon the sharp dagger in his stomach, thinking for a moment about her plan of action before readying her tools. She soaked another two cloths in rum, squeezing them together to create a thicker piece of fabric and placed it on his chest for safe keeping. After that, her shaking hands took hold of the needle and thread most commonly used for stitching, which she would use for the exact same reason, and weaved them through each other, preparing to close the wound as best as she could. She had been trained as a nurse for many years before her coronation, before her father’s death and her succession, and she had the best relative knowledge she could ask for, but she hadn’t needed to use her skills in such a situation before, not in a situation that truly mattered. Those were the prayers that never worked, the prayers she whispered in hope she would never require the skills she had learnt.

Wincing and bracing for Will’s body to start spasming, Minerva quickly unsheathed the dagger from his stomach. “I’m sorry, Will, I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” She spoke to him, his muscles twitching under the pain slightly until the dagger was out.

Blood quickly began pouring out from the wound, dripping onto his skin and staining the fabric of his torn shirt. Minerva grabbed the rum-soaked cloth she had prepared minutes before and applied pressure to the wound with it, desperately trying to cease the bleeding and rid the wound of sand, dirty water, and the muck in general he had most likely accumulated from his lifestyle. She tossed the bloodied dagger onto the sand and began to tear his shirt around the area of his laceration, making it easy to see the skin surrounding it. She didn’t feel particularly sorry for the item of clothing, her mind was in such a haze only comparable to her island’s mists that she couldn’t truly think of anything else other than Will. This was how she solved problems, how she was taught to solve problems; to isolate the situation and not let her mind wander, especially not to foolish questions such as:

“Where in your Hell did Jack go?” Minerva asked Will, but it ended up more a question for only herself when he obviously didn’t reply. She sucked a quick breath in and pushed the first stitch into his skin, beginning the process of closing up the stab wound. His body convulsed under her shaking hands, but fell limp again shortly after. “‘Sorry.”

In and out the thread weaved, slowly but surely closing the injury and stopping the majority of the blood flow out of Will’s body. When it was completely shut, Minerva grabbed a pair of shears from the box and snipped the end of the thread, placing the remainder back where it came from and applying the same pressure of the rum-soaked cloth back on his wound, making sure it was still thoroughly clean before grabbing the bandages. The main challenge was getting underneath his back to wrap it around his torso, but Minerva made quick work of it by pulling him into a half-seated position on the sand, letting his head fall limp onto her left shoulder as she worked the bandage around his back thrice over, and fastened it in place with a safety pin back where she began, leaving no remnant of the bandage leftover to put back in her box.

A sigh flew from her lips as she tossed the dagger off to the side, unable to look at it as her body finally relaxed. “You can’t simply be happy with a life of normalcy, can you?” Minerva slowly maneuvered her aching body onto the sand, laying on her side beside Will. She took a hand to the strands of hair that weren’t covered by the bandage, brushing them despite the blood and dirt. “Please live, Will. You have defied horrid odds before, you can do it again.”

Minerva moved onto her back and let her hand fall from Will’s face and onto his open palm beside her, she grasped onto his wrist, making sure that if she fell asleep, the absence of his life’s pulse would awaken her. She could feel his heart thumping ever so slightly as she prayed in a whisper, her eyes shut despite the bright light of the sun above her, the clouds of rain having cleared. “O Dduwies Fawr, Mam Trugaredd ac Iachawdwriaeth, anfon egni Hygeia i faethu o'i Phowlen Sanctaidd. Anfon egni Brigid i iachau dyfroedd ei Ffynnon Gysegredig. Anfonwch egni Demeter i adfer bywyd i gelloedd gwywo. Anfonwch egni Quan Yin i fendithio yr iachâd â thangnefedd. Anfon dy ddoethineb iachusol i'r corff i adfer ei gydbwysedd cysegredig. Diolch Dduwies Fawr, Mam Pob Oes.”

Oh Great Goddess, Mother of Mercy and Healing, Send the energy of Hygeia, to nourish from Her Sacred Bowl. Send the energy of Brigid, to heal with waters of Her Sacred Well, Send the energy of Demeter, to restore life to withering cells. Send the energy of Quan Yin, to bless the healing with peace. Send Your healing wisdom to the body, to restore its sacred balance. Thank You Great Goddess, Mother of All Life.

She continued to chant her prayer in a whisper, repeating it from back-to-front as she fell into a deep slumber on the sandy coast, her hand still grasped tightly around Will’s.

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Henry Golding

full name: Landon Nor

nickname(s) / goes by: Landon

pronouns & gender: He/Him

sexuality: Bisexual

birth date: February 10th, 1989

birth place: Merrock, Maine

arrival to merrock: Born and raised

housing: Downtown 

occupation: Fisherman & Bartender 

work place: Bartends at Anchors Away

family: Father, Mikhail

relationship status: Single

PERSONALITY

Landon can be described as a jack-of-all trades; he enjoys working with his hands and learning new and useful skills. He's that friend you can call on if you don't want to hire a plumber or contractor, happy to help with his DIY skills whenever he can. Though very generous, he's definitely a more 'show not tell' kind of guy, and can come off as rather sarcastic and distant from time to time. He'll often put others before himself for better or for worse, but will never ask for help or admit when he's struggling. Landon also harbors a lot of resentment for having to give up his dreams to take care of his ailing father though it's something he's buried and will deny until the end of time. Though he wouldn't do anything differently, sometimes he can't help but wonder how his life would have turned out if things had gone to plan. Can be very flirtatious, especially when he's bartending (because, hello, great tips). and when he's not working on the boat or at Anchors Away, you can usually find him outside or doing some form of physical activity. 

WRITTEN BY: Ray (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: death tw, parental death tw, cancer tw, sex work tw

Landon's journey began in the quaint fishing town of Merrock nestled along the rugged coast of Maine. Born into a world of salty sea breezes and endless horizons, he came into the world amidst the bittersweet sorrow of his mother's passing. Her death during childbirth left a void that could never truly be filled, but Landon's father, a rugged and determined fisherman, dedicated his life to raising his son with all the love and care he could muster.

Their modest life was painted with hues of simple happiness. Landon's early memories were woven with the sound of seagulls and the scent of saltwater, as he spent his days by his father's side, learning the art of fishing and earning his own place in the family's tradition. Early mornings before school and weekends were marked by the rhythm of their boat against the waves, and as Landon grew, so did his love for the sea and the bond he shared with his father.

In their close-knit community, Landon's intelligence and ambition were evident to all. The town's residents saw a bright future for him and spoke words of encouragement that painted a future of limitless possibilities. With such unwavering support, Landon harbored dreams of becoming a doctor, a goal that seemed attainable against the backdrop of his coastal upbringing.

As time marched on, his father's sacrifices became more apparent. Selling their family home was a testament to the lengths he would go to ensure Landon had a shot at a different life. Landon's path led him to Cornell University, where he pursued pre-med studies with the same determination that guided his fishing ventures. Yet, life took an unexpected turn as a shadow fell over their lives once more: his father was diagnosed with cancer.

In an instant, Landon's dreams of medical school were deferred as he shouldered the responsibility of caring for his ailing father. The fishing business became not just a way of life, but a lifeline for both of them. Days blurred into nights as Landon navigated a demanding schedule, determined to provide the love and care that his father had once showered upon him.

Years of struggle and perseverance followed. Landon's father's health teetered on the edge, but through unwavering resolve and modern medical miracles, he went into remission. However, victory came at a heavy price, leaving them drowning in medical debt that seemed insurmountable. It was during this desperate period that Landon made a choice that would forever mark his soul. He turned to sex work, a decision born out of desperation, as he grappled with the chasm between his childhood aspirations and his current reality.

In the shadows, he found a way to alleviate their financial burdens, though the shame was a constant companion. But Landon's determination never wavered; he finally managed to free his father from the weight of debt and secured him a peaceful retirement home. Their reunion was bittersweet, for Landon's sacrifices had been immense, leaving him to accept that his life had taken a much different path than he'd initially hoped.

Today, Landon finds himself living in a fixer upper with roommates downtown, not far from the familiar shores of his hometown. He leads the family fishing business with a combination of nostalgia and determination, a tribute to his father's legacy. By night, he stands behind the bar at Anchors Away, serving up drinks and stories to the city's denizens. It's a life that offers comfort and stability, yet the pull of the past occasionally drives him back into the world of sex work when he needs to make a quick buck. While it's not a trade he engages in regularly, Landon's determination to reach full financial freedom and take care of his father has him unable to resist the allure of the trade. Plus, he's quite good at it, so why waste a lucrative talent? 

[ayizan]

Translated from the tomb of the Pharoh Tuk Ur, part 2

Part 1

As the sun began to set, the heat of the day broke bringing a blessed cool breeze. The breeze seemed to waken the city of Amm’Ti and before long the streets were filled with the sounds of people and a hub of celebration. Tables and carpets were pulled from houses so that neighbors could sit and feast together. Young girls huddled by the windows, dressing each other in perfumed oils and clean cotton robes. They giggled at the boys that would try to call out them but would not respond until they made it to the boats waiting at the shore. There, girls and boys would slip between the rushes to share a quiet moment in the darkness, watching lamps on the boats glimmer off the surface of the water, like distant fireflies. 

Daa ni took in a breath of the cool air as he excitedly dodged the crowd. While most were heading to the river to watch the procession of the Pharaoh and his family sail down the Nile, Sa’ma had suggested that they go up into the hills to watch the whole thing from above. Daa ni hadn’t been certain that they would see anything up there but spending a quiet moment with Sa’ma beat getting jostled by crowds of drunken people any day. 

The hills were dark by the time Daa ni reached the edge of town, just three large black silhouettes against a purple and deep blue sky. At the gate was Sa’ma in her customary black priestly robes. She blended so well into the hills Daa ni would have entirely missed her if it wasn’t for the oil lamp she was carrying. 

“Took you long enough!” She called waving him over. 

“Sorry!” Daa ni said, catching his breath. “You know how my parents are.” 

“Riiiight,” Sa’ma said, “and it wasn’t because you were staring at all the cute girls on your way here.”

“No!” Daa ni protested, instinctively looking away and blushing. 

She stared at him hard, waiting. He was never good a lying to Sa’ma. 

“Well ok, maybe a little, and it was mostly because I saw Paal ina on my way here.” 

Sa’ma snorted. “Paal ina? Why would she be on the streets? Doesn’t she think they are beneath her or something?” 

“She doesn’t think that!” 

Sa’ma gave Daa ni a ‘don’t bullshit with me’ look. 

“Ok well maybe sometimes she does think that, but today was different! She was with Daa’sh and Kwa an and they were looking at some of the boats.”

“Huh,” Sa’ma said, surprised. “Aren’t they usually in the boats? What are they doing on the shore?”

Daa ni shrugged, his mind filled with thoughts of how pretty Paal ina had looked, how beautiful her long black hair was, how it swayed liked papyrus in the wind. She wouldn’t give him the time a day of course, but a crush was a crush and Daa ni was happy to look on from the distance.

“Alright,” Sa’ma said, “I see that puppy dog face on you, forget about Paal ina, we have more fun stuff to do.”

Daa ni shook the thoughts from his head. “Speaking of which, what are we doing? And is Tuk Ur really going to show up?” 

Just as he said this there was a shout from behind him and both Sa’ma and Daa ni turned to see a dark skinned boy running towards them in the distance. This was the simplest either had seen Tuk Ur dressed. Normally he was covered in gold, lapis and jade, face painted with markings of a prince. But now, he wore a simple cotton wrap around his hip and his hair was tucked under a neat red head wrap. As he came up panting, Daa ni couldn’t help noting how different he looked without the makeup, more a boy like him and less a prince. 

“Sorry for the wait, you guys,” Tuk Ur said. “It took a while to distract Hotep, he gets so crazy when it comes to these celebrations.”

“Are you sure its ok for you to be leaving?” Daa ni asked, looking over Tuk Ur’s shoulder, just in case Hotep was charging down the road behind. Thankfully coast was still clear. 

“It’s fine,” Tuk Ur said, waving his arm. “What are twelve half siblings for if a few can’t play hooky?” 

“Right…” Sa’ma said, looking uncertain. If Sa’ma’s life was heaven, Daa ni would consider Tuk Ur’s life hell. Yes, he was a prince of Egypt, but with twelve siblings all vying for the throne and the thought of assination not off the table, Daa ni wasn’t sure how Tuk Ur had survived so far. On top of that whoever won was guaranteed to execute or exile the rest as well as any nobles who supported said rival. Frankly it was dangerous for Daa ni and Sa’ma to be seen around Tuk Ur as he so far seemed to be in dead last when it came to reaching the throne. But Tuk Ur, Sa’ma and Daa ni had all been friends since they were tiny and they were determined to stay friends for as long as they could, social life be damned. And actually damned they were as all three had faults that prevent them from “fitting in.” 

Daa ni was the son of sorcerers, an occupation that was uneasily accepted within the Royal Courts. Only the Pharaoh seemed to trust his parents, and nobles were ready and willing to blame any misfortune on them. This made an easy target, recommended even, for the young noble and royal boys trying to make a name for themselves. 

Sa’ma had been considered a promising daughter of the illustrious Mann’son clan. One of the few rare clans that managed to survive complete execution not through one but two Pharaohs. Their loyalty to the current Pharaoh was considered one of the strongest, until Sa’ma joined the royal court. Just on her first day she managed to piss off everyone by showing up in black priestly robes instead of the usual white and gold and declaring that she’d rather become an embalmer to marry one of the princes. From then on her family limited her presence in the Royal halls as much as possible. 

Finally Tuk Ur, somewhere in the middle of the seven princes and five princesses. He was the least noticed and the least listened to in all of Amm’Ti. Despite this Daa ni found Tuk Ur to not only be incredibly kind but incredibly smart. He knew everything from the paths to take if you want to avoid unpleasant run ins, to the ins and out of the royal law. His only flaw was that he was smaller then the rest of his siblings and had no strength. Unfortunately those were the pre-requisite to becoming a ruler, whether you had the skill to or not. Daa ni always thought that if Tuk Ur was lucky enough to be exiled, he would join him and see the rest of the world. 

“Shall we get going?” Sa’ma asked lifting her oil lamp. “This stuff ain’t cheap you know.”

“Right,” Daa ni said. Tuk Ur nodded as both boys followed Sa’ma out of the city and into the darkening hills above.

Part 3

[sincerelyjxyy]

Gold Rush - Four

Invisible String - Gold Rush

Chapter Four - Blue Eyes and Safe Smiles

Song Of The Chapter - Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine

✧ softness is not weakness. it takes courage to stay delicate in a world this cruel. — beau taplin, shed your sharp edges ✧

Summary: The Pogues go on a mission to find out who was the owner of the Grady-White, only to find out it was one of their own. Now, they are determined to find out and steal whatever is hidden in the boat.

Warning: Depiction of panic attack in this chapter.

Word Count: 10.1k

Gold Rush Masterlist

THE KILDARE ISLAND BOAT DOCKS WERE SIGNIFICANT TO THE LIFE OF AN OUTER BANKS RESIDENT. On any average day, if one were to walk through or pass by the docks, they'd fine them full of sailors, fishermen, and lost tourists. At times, it could be quite crowded, but it was manageable enough that there was always someone available to help.

That particular day, however, was the one right after a hurricane. So, one could imagine the hectic atmosphere swarming the docks when the group of friends arrived.

The pogues made their way toward the Coast Guard building, walking under canopies set up for all different types of storm relief. Josie felt the stressful environment influencing her own worries as she observed the troubled, panic-stricken people that begged for help.

She pulled the hat that JJ had given her further over her eyes, as she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing she needed was to get caught by anyone who might mention her location to her mother.

In passing, she overheard people mention that they were looking for their lost loved ones. She strained to listen as the Coast Guard radioed in through their walkie-talkies to help find and save whoever they could.

But there were only so many of them that could help, compared to the number of people who'd shoved themselves into the building.

As the five of them navigated through the crowd, Josie was able to catch the sounds of a woman at the desk who begged for someone to help search for her diabetic dog. It made Josie's heart clench in sorrow. She felt for all of the animals and people that were lost and scared out there, looking for their own loved ones after the storm. And she silently thanked whoever that she'd woken up that morning with their cat in her bed.

They approached the help desk, and Josie watched as John B tried to gain the attention of the desk attendant, to no avail. "Hey, excuse me."

JJ picked up a pen from the desk to mess with while he also tried to speak up. "Hey man, we found a boat-" He'd also been cut off by the worker, who continued to converse with the distressed woman.

Josie too tried, but her slight calls predictably fell on deaf ears. 

"You're gonna wanna hear this." That time John B tried to get out that they had found a sunken boat, the attendee snapped at him and told him to calm down.  Even though, Josie sharply noted, her friend's tone showed no sign of obnoxiousness.

But she understood that the guy was probably super overwhelmed.

Josie shook her head to signify that their plan was a bust, and she gently plucked the pen out of JJ's hand and placed it back into its container. John patted them on the shoulder as he passed. "C'mon, let's go. We'll figure something else out." Josie nodded, and the duo followed him out.

"Well, that went well," Pope offered sarcastically as they gathered outside the building. Kie and Josie shared a look of incredulity at the utter chaos happening inside. The brunette leaned back against one of the deck posts, and Josie leaned against her as she once again pulled the hat down.

JJ leaned his arm on John B's shoulder. "So, what's the plan?"

Of course, the boys were itching to head straight into action. How could they not?

John B smiled as he held up the motel key. "Think I know how we're gonna find the guy who owns that boat."

"Ever the trouble magnet, I see." Josie nodded at the boy as she chuckled, and John B couldn't help but wink in return. The girls turned to knowingly smirk at one another. John B, ever the adventurer, was going to lead them all on a wild goose chase for this mystery person.

Josie couldn't deny that she was a bit curious herself.

Pope shook his head in disagreement. "No, no no. We don't know whose room that is. It could belong to anyone." Josie sighed and pulled away from her stance against her friend, patting Pope on the shoulder in solidarity. It was easy to see that he was not going to win that argument.

JJ snatched the key from John B's hand. "I'm in," he declared, before tossing it to Josie.

She teasingly hung them out toward Pope as she walked backward, swaying them from her fingers. JJ raced to follow her, walking short steps behind her as they slowed turned away from the bustling building.

Kiara laughed at Pope as she tried to reason with him. "C'mon, we'll be lookout." She moved to join JJ and Josie, and the trio waited as John B persuaded Pope.

"Finder's fee. Just sayin'. And, hey, at least you'll only be an accomplice."

Josie led the group as she made her way down the dock, JJ on her tail. She knowingly laughed upon hearing Pope give in. She overheard John B's "C'mon, Bubba" and peered over her shoulder to see Pope turn to follow them.

"C'mon, P. If I can decide to put my valedictorianship on the line, the least you can to is put the scholarship down!"

She couldn't see it, but she knew Pope was rolling his eyes from the back of the group. It had been a running joke between the two of them to disagree on who would become valedictorian at graduation—a bit of friendly competition. She knew it could rile him up just enough to do anything.

"That is, if you get it," Pope disputed, blowing out a raspberry that Josie giggled at. Either way, the two of them would be proud of whomever got the honor.

Josie led the group back over to where the Pogue was docked. Before she could jump into the boat, JJ held his arm out to stop her and get in first. Once in the boat, he then held his hand out to help her down.

"She's gonna get it," JJ added, eyes never leaving Josie as she grabbed his hand.

Josie smiled down at him, ignoring the gagging motion Pope directed at John B, as she made her way onto the boat. JJ had always been the biggest believer that she could easily win at anything. She thought he put way too much faith in her, but it was nonetheless appreciated.

Once they were all settled aboard, the group began their journey to the Summerwind Motel, its name faintly printed on the keychain. The plans were set for what to do when they arrived; Kie and Pope would be lookouts; Josie, JJ, and John B would check out the room and see what they could find.

After a few minutes of navigating around the island, and making their way through the Heyward Sound, they eventually moved down The Cut and found the motel. As they slowly approached, Josie couldn't help but note how much it looked like it'd come right out of one of those don't do drugs, or this is where you'll live programs on television. It'd been utterly defiled by hurricane damage.

JJ whistled in surprise. "I thought the Chateau looked bad." He stepped up onto the bow to grab the tie-off rope.

"This place is a shitshow," John B commented as he steered the boat toward the bank. Josie couldn't believe she'd never seen the building before, having lived on the island for more than half of her life.

"Motel or meth lab?" Kie questioned as she scanned the area in disbelief.

"You be the judge."

Josie glanced around to survey the damage that had made the place even more spooky than it probably was normally. "This place had definitely seen better days."

"I don't think it has," Pope quipped once again, his face set in seriousness.

"Doesn't look like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would stay," John B pointed out, and Josie nodded her head in agreement.

"No. Looks like the type of place someone with a Grady-White would get killed," Pope reiterated.

He was right, it did look like somewhere right out of Law and Order where someone would be brutally murdered. Still, for someone who had a weird obsession with death, he seemed super pessimistic about the possibility of seeing a dead body.

Josie's eyes once again wandered around the surrounding area of the motel. The run-down sign had been knocked down, obviously by the strong winds of the storm. Palm trees were toppled all around the building, some laying on cars in the lot. Part of the roof had been torn off and covered by tarps, and trash littered the water and ground surrounding the building.

It really did look worse for wear.

"Alright, here we go." John B steered his way closer to the bank, and Josie stood to move onto the bow beside JJ. She chuckled as JJ mimicked the sound of a walkie-talkie into his shoulder.

"This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue comin' in for landing." He jumped off the front and onto land, stopping the boat with his hands, and began to tie it down. Josie grabbed her backpack and threw it over her shoulders.

"We good?" John B checked.

JJ seemed satisfied with the tie as she shot out a "yeah, we good." He stuck his hand out for Josie, who took it and jumped to join him on the bank. Once she felt stable on her legs, they turned to face the group.

"Alright, here goes nothing." John B moved to join the two of them, when Pope's voice called out for his attention.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" John B turned to look at Pope, who pointed over to JJ.

"Don't let him do anything stupid." Pope's behest came from a good place, Josie was sure, but she snorted at the unlikelihood of it.

JJ jokingly widened his eyes and placed a hand over his heart as he looked at Josie, who shrugged with cheerfully pursed lips. He quickly dropped the façade and turned back to Pope. "Oh, we will."

"I'm not making promises." John B shook his head, which caused Pope to shrink back in disappointment.

"Yeah, I know."

The genius boy then glanced over to catch Josie's gaze—a last resort. She simply shrugged and lifted a hand up to pat JJ's shoulder. "I'll do my best, buddy, but you know how persuasive this one can be." JJ smirked and nodded his head, throwing his arm over Josie's shoulder.

Pope defeatedly shook his head. "Just try to keep yourselves from any imminent death." He sternly pointed at Josie, and she two-finger saluted him in response.

"Be careful," Kie directed at John B. Her glance fleetingly wandered to Josie, before it returned back to the brunette. Josie watched the interaction closely as she twirled the motel key around her index finger. She tried to piece together the sudden chemistry between her friends.

When did that happen?

She peered up at JJ, whose arm remained perched around her shoulder, and raised an eyebrow—a silent question of if he saw what she did. He smirked down at her, wiggling her eyebrows at the implication of the best friends having tension.

"I mean it."

John B gave out a slightly confused chuckle, before confirming that he understood as he moved to join the other two. They dubiously stared at him as he jumped down with them and patted JJ's arm in passing. "Let's go."

The trio made their way through the hurricane-wrecked parking lot, with Josie trying her best to avoid any rodents hiding out in the trash. JJ jumped at her, mimicking a feral animal growl, and laughed when she annoyedly shoved him away from her. She kept her eyes trained on the area around them as they approached the outdoor staircase.

Josie huffed as she watched the boys dart up the stairs. Because, naturally, the room had to be on the second floor. Go figure.

Josie huffed as she held onto the side railing, knuckles stark white, and cautiously took the metal-grated steps one at a time. She flinched every time the metal croaked or her eyes wandered downward to the holes of the metal. She tried to keep her focus on the back of JJ's head above her.

As they climbed up the steps, John B looked around at all of the furniture that had been moved outside and leaned against the railings. Mattresses, lamps with no shades, and blankets were haphazardly strewn out in the hallway of the motel. Josie figured they probably just needed a good clean.

"Why are all these mattresses out?"

"After a hurricane, they have to ditch 'em 'cause they're all moldy," JJ apprised easily, turning to watch as Josie slowly ascended to the top of the stairs. He stuck his tongue out at her when she reached them, and she shoved him to turn around and walk.

She internally praised herself for managing a set of stairs without having an anxious meltdown.

"Just be so careful, John B." JJ seductively mocked Kiara as he grabbed John B by his shoulders and caressed his jaw.

Josie let out a small giggle and watched, entertained, as John B shoved the blond off of him. "God, you're so weird."

"Dude, what the heck was that about?" JJ referenced the obvious looks at Kiara sent John B's way during their departure. It wasn't that Kiara never suggested caution or expressed concern for them, but the way she'd looked at John B seemed to convey a bit more than just worrying about the group's safety.

"I don't know. Maybe she wants us to be careful," John B plainly reasoned.

He pleadingly glanced at Josie to reel their friend in, but she shrugged in denial. She enjoyed the light-hearted teasing that JJ threw his way, which John B often partook in when aimed at the rest of them. If he could dish it out, he should be able to take it.

"Since she heard you're being threatened with exile she's just been like-" JJ massaged his shoulders, releasing little teasing moans as he mimicked a feminine voice. "Oh! Be so careful, John B."

John B tried to push him off, but JJ wasn't fazed. "Oh, just give me that John D already." He backed off to grin at Josie, before he pointed toward the boat. "Like when are you gonna swoop on that, man?"

Josie's eyes widened, fully prepared to bring up their most important rule, when John B beat her to it. "Bro, you know the rule. No Pogue-on-Pogue Mackin'." John B pointed toward the boat for emphasis and raised his brows at Josie. She agreeably nodded and smacked the arm of the boy to her right.

John B turned to point matter-of-factly. "You would get that if you weren't hitting on Jose twenty-four-seven."

Said girl desperately tried to conceal the redness that rushed up her neck. She adamantly blamed it on the blistering heat outside and not the very distant and improbable concept of JJ purposely hitting on her. It was all playful banter—nothing to come from it.

She was in a growingly serious relationship, and he didn't do girlfriends. Most importantly, they were best friends.

It was out of the question.

"Dude, of course I'm hitting on her. Have you seen this girl?" JJ carelessly wrapped his arm around Josie's shoulder as they walked, and she lightly elbowed in his stomach in retaliation.

She really wanted to refrain from thinking about JJ that way, too afraid of the path her brain might wander down. She couldn't afford to think about someone who wasn't her boyfriend like that. Especially not JJ, her JJ.

"She's a super-hot, rich, history nerd slumming with us and her hot, rich, hippie chick best friend." Josie shrugged his arm off her shoulder as he spoke, rushing forward to walk beside John B.

"Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro?" He playfully grabbed the top of Josie's head. "I know this door's locked because I've tried it. Have you?" He pointed out to where Kie and Pope were for emphasis, and Josie swatted his hand away.

A part of her really wished she'd stayed on that boat.

"You need help," John B reproached as he looked over at Josie, who concurrently nodded. "Not a little bit of help, you need a lotta help. 'Cause it's like every girl who just has a heartbeat, you're like...uhh." He imitated what Josie could only assume was a terrible climaxing sound.

She grimaced, eyes quickly moving away from the boys. Maybe she could throw herself over the railing. Facing her biggest fear seemed better than having to deal with this conversation any longer.

She absentmindedly picked at her nails and tried her hardest not to picture JJ in the vulnerable and intimate state that John B had inferred.

"I mean, what? Is that a big deal?"

Josie immediately wanted to interject that, yes, it was a particularly massive deal, but she halted as they stopped in front of the door. The topic was something they'd always heavily contradicted each other on—the sacredness of sex.

She was grateful for a distraction when they'd stopped at the door at the end of the hall. Room two-twenty-nine. "This is it."

JJ confirmed that it was indeed the room they'd looked for, and he walked around the other two to face the door. The blond knocked in a random pattern, putting on a feminine voice as he called out to whoever may be in there. "Housekeeping."

Josie hid her giggle behind her palm and shut lips as he tapped again, before he moved to the window to do the same.

John B looked over at Josie and motioned to the key in her hand. "Should we try it?"

She turned to JJ to be sure, and he nodded. "Yeah. No persona aquí." With his confirmation, Josie bent down to unlock the door. "No power. No security cameras. No one's gonna know."

She stepped back as the door swung open, allowing JJ to brush past her and walk in first to check that the coast was clear. John B flashed a light inside, and they quickly discerned that the room was empty. "Huh, okay."

The three of them entered the room, and Josie's eyes immediately scanned for blood or anything out of the ordinary. She was cautious in her search for anything that would warrant dragging the boys right back out of the room.

"I'll check the bag. See if there's a name on there somewhere." John B shut the door behind them, approaching the bag on the bed.

He used his flashlight to rummage through the duffle, as JJ dug through the person's coat, and Josie examined the inside of the dresser drawers. They listed everything they could find. "Definitely over fifty. He's got New Balances."

Josie laughed at his declaration. "Hey, my Pépé wears New Balances, and they look great on him," Josie joked. She ran her hands through the jeans in the drawers for anything that might be hidden. No such luck.

She looked up at catch John B's pointed stare. "Yeah, and your Pépé's like eighty-four."

Josie rolled her eyes, ignoring the statement, and crawled around to the side of the bed closest to the door. She reached down to check under it as JJ read the paper that was laid out on the beside table. "Yo, dude, c'mere. Maybe, this is where they were fishing..."

"Let me see."

The boys congregated around the side table as Josie moved her arm around under the bed, praying that nothing bit her or chopped her hand off if it was hiding. But she couldn't bring herself to look under the bed; she'd hate knowing for sure if something was there.

Once she was certain nothing was under that bed, she made her way to the opposite side of the furthest bed. She gave herself a little breath of support, before she once again stuck her arm out under it.

"Right there." JJ pointed to the sticky note of coordinates attached to the map, but John B quickly shut him down.

"No, that's off the continental shelf. That's Big Swell. Nobody fishes there."

"Well, they do," Josie chimed in, her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth as she flailed her arm around under the bed. "They just never catch anything."

She knew that she probably looked extremely stupid, but she wanted to take extra precautions to ensure that there weren't any hidden mics or cameras attached to the bottom of the bed. She'd seen plenty of spy movies and crime shows to know that one could never be too careful.

She closed her eyes, mentally pushing herself to face her fear, and laid on her stomach to slide under the bed. She looked around for anything out of the ordinary, like a blinking red light or a black box.

"Coffee, Jose?" John B called out, and she huffed from her spot halfway under the bed. Any other time she'd take him up on the offer—not really one to turn down a good cup of bean juice. But she doubted that the old, musty motel coffee pot was very trustworthy.

"Yeah, standard. Tissues for when you get lonely..." JJ's fake British accent faded as he passed by the bed, discovering where a half-covered Josie laid under it.

He shined the flashlight at her, and he definitely did not admire the view of her backside from where he stood. "What the heck are you doing?"

"Checking for bugs, being paranoid. You know, the ushe."

JJ hummed, both in acknowledgement and humor, and left her to it to make his way into the bathroom. "Ooh!"

"D'you find anything?" John B called out to the boy. He turned to look at Josie, who decided that she maybe was being a bit neurotic, as she crawled out from under the bed. That was, until her hand grasped something stuck to the bottom of the bed, and she let out a triumphant cheer.

She pulled out from beneath the bed, face quickly growing red with embarrassment as she examined what she held up. The black sock hung limp from her hands, and John B did his best to stifle his laugh down to a chuckle.

"A really awesome Dopp kit you won't let me steal," JJ quipped as Josie dejectedly stared at the item in her grasp.

"Yeah, 'cause we're not stealing shit."

The kleptomaniacal boy glanced back at Josie as he exited the bathroom, smirking at the sock in her hand. "I know you were looking for bugs, but I gotta tell you. There's only one reason a stray black sock is hangin' out under a bed." He wiggled his eyebrows for effect, and Josie immediately tossed the fabric away from her.

"Eugh, men are disgusting."

She watched as John B opened the cabinets to the entertainment center, eyes widening when she realized he was imputing a code into a safe. She scurried across the floor to stop beside him, and she deliberately avoided picturing all of the disgusting excrements that she maneuvered over.

Josie could ascertain what her friend was doing when he went from imputing all ones to substituting the last number with a two. She groaned and smacked his arm. "You do realize there are ten thousand unique combinations you could repeat, dumbass. So, unless you plan to be here until graduation, that isn't going to work."

"You got a better idea?" John B crossly snapped; forehead creased as he looked at her. She shook her head and pointed to the safe door.

"No, but I have enough common sense to know how idiotic it is to press some random buttons and hope for the best." She raised her hand at John B, before moving it to the safe. "Dumbass, meet dumb solution."

"Dumb solution my ass-" The two of them quietly squabbled back and forth until John B huffed and abruptly halted their argument.

"What?" Josie inquired, watching as he stood and made his way back toward JJ and the table.

"Wait a second, wait a second, wait a second. Here." He grabbed a little piece of paper that sat under the phone on the table. Josie shook her head at him, ignorant due to his lack of explanation.

All the while, JJ stood at the table busy as he tried to decipher if the coordinates actually did mean something. "I don't know. I don't know about the second one. Jose, c'mere."

Josie left John B to the safe as she stood up, joining JJ to look over the map of the area surrounding the Banks. "Wait. My cousin said you could catch swordfish here."

Josie shook her head at him, untrustworthy of most of the Maybank cousins. "Cousin Ricky or Cousin Bucky? Because Cousin Bucky also said that you could throw up cash if you prayed hard enough, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right, that wouldn't make any sense. What about a surf spot?" JJ offered, but Josie shook her head again.

She pointed to the shelf that lay a little further inland than the coordinates. "No, look, it's way too far out. You'd get fined if they caught you out there."

"Maybe it's shoals. Have you heard of shoals?"

Josie turned her head to check on John B's progress, and the sight of the opened safe caused her eyes to widen. She lightly tapped JJ's shoulder with the back of her hand, her gaze fixed on the wads of cash and the weapon that sat in front of John B. "Uh...JJ?"

"Hm?"

His eyes followed to where Josie's were as John B spoke up. "You're gonna want to see this." He held up a stack of the bills, and JJ's eyes widened like saucers.

Josie was speechless.

John B moved to let JJ approach the safe, but both the brunette and Josie instantly regretted as JJ snatched the gun from the safe. "Dude, dude, dude!" The younger pogue could only get his words out excitedly as he backed away with the weapon.

Josie gasped and rushed over to hold JJ's arm pointed down. He tried to wriggle out of the grasp to examine the gun some more, but Josie's grip was iron clad.

"You grabbed the gun. You grabbed the gun. Would you put the-" John B hissed out in disbelief, not able to finish due to his bewilderment. Josie released JJ to glare at the other boy with a duh expression on her face.

It was JJ. He was obviously going to grab the freaking gun!

"This is a SIG Sauer," JJ cried out in amazement. Despite the boy's obvious awe, Josie couldn't focus on anything other than the stress building through her body. The last thing she needed was for him to shoot his toe off.

"Put the gun back, JJ," John B scolded. Josie rubbed at the bridge of her nose, ignoring the internal berating of her mother's voice, and watched John B's attempt to reign JJ in.

JJ's noises of giddiness bled through the tone of his voice as he cradled the weapon. "This is a fucking spendy gatt, man! Jose, Jose, look! Bap, chicka bap." JJ pretended to make gunshot noises and shoot all around the room, while Josie ducked and shrunk away from where he pointed the gun. She punched him in the stomach, hard enough that he had to stop himself from doubling over as he grunted in pain.

"Are you insane, JJ Maybank? You can't just point a weapon around willy-nilly! The first gun was made in China in the year 1000. Y'know what that means? It means thousands of people since then have died from accidental firing. You are not the exception," Josie angrily hissed at him. She pushed down both of his arms that dual-wielded the gun and the flashlight like he was a cop in a tv show.

"Besides, we are not stealing anything," John B chided through clenched teeth as he shared a frustrated look with the girl. JJ could've gotten them caught if he wasn't careful, or worse.

"Jose, please take a picture of me. Right here." Josie incredulously stared at him, shaking her head as he stared at her with pleading eyes.

"You want her to take a picture of you?" John B asked, completely unimpressed.

"Yeah, dude, like-" He posed, and Josie rolled her eyes at his audacity. She loved him, incredibly so, but he was testing the immense amount of patience she had for him.

From the look on John B's face, he agreed. "You wanna make our own incriminating evidence? Is that what you're talking about?"

JJ stared at them both in increasing realization that they would, in fact, get into a ton of shit if someone found photos of JJ holding a stolen gun on any of their devices. He defeatedly looked down at the gun, twisting it in his hands to inspect it.

Josie jumped at the sharp sound of something hitting the window. "Wait, what was that?" John B moved to peek out the window, and JJ questioned him again.

"What, what's going on?" Josie worriedly inquired when John B quickly moved away from the window, muttering out a curse as he jumped over the bed to look out of the window by the door.

"Cops," John B mumbled. His statement was quickly followed by a knock on the door, and Shoupe's voice rang out.

"Kildare County Sheriff's Department."

Josie was thrown into immediate panic, looking around for any solution to their predicament. John B made his way back to the window by the beds and slid it open, but she paid no mind to either boy as anxiety swallowed her whole. The fear of her mother finding out where she was outweighed anything else.

Maybe she could hide in the bathroom, or under the bed.

Once John B was halfway out the window, he motioned out his hand for a panicked Josie to take. She immediately shook her head. "No, no, no, no, no. I'm not doing that, nope. No way, John B."

"Fine, you wanna tell Shoupe that we broke into a hotel room, or why JJ's holding a gun that's not his? What do you think he's gonna tell your mom?" John B knew it was a low blow, but he had to get her out that window somehow.

Still, she shook her head, despite the insistent wave of his hand for her to grab.

"Jose, I'll be with you the entire time. I won't let anything happen," JJ spoke up hurriedly from behind her. He placed his hands firmly on her waist as he gently pushed her closer to the window. She continued to shake her head, tears building up as John B grasped her arm and helped her through.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she climbed out, and she immediately reached back for JJ as he clambered out behind her. John B let go of her arm once she had a firm hold on JJ. The tears freely cascaded down her face as she let the blond move around her to stand furthest from the window and by the edge.

She tried to avoid looking down, choking back sobs as JJ wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her as close to him as humanly possible. She wrapped both arms around him and tucked herself into his side, squeezing tight enough to also protect him from falling to his death.

She focused on his soothing voice as it whispered sweet reassurances and claims that she was okay. Promises that he had her and wasn't going to let anything happen to her. She desperately attempted to not think about being forced onto the rood where she was hiding from her uncle and could potentially fall to her death at any moment.

It was paralyzing—the reaffirmation that she was off the ground. At any time, JJ could lose his grip on her, or worse, he himself could plummet off the roof. The anxiety in her chest rose to a bile in her throat as she sobbed into her friend's shirt. He hadn't stopped whispering into her hair and rubbing his hand up and down her side, but she couldn't concentrate on anything other than her fear.

She pleaded with herself to change her thoughts as John B peeked into the room through a crack he'd left in the blinds. She could feel JJ motioning out toward something behind her, which she assumed was probably the others on the boat.

She sought comfort where she could, moving her left hand slowly from her friend's side up his torso and to his neck. She grabbed ahold of the pendants dangling from the cord around his neck—a shark tooth that had always been apart of the necklace and a stray golden sun pendant that was an addition. She twisted them in between her fingers, focusing on the cool feeling of them on her skin.

She thought about the palms that tightly trapped her against JJ—safe and secure; she knew that he'd die before he let her succumb to the reality of her fear. The roughness of his calluses soothed her as they rubbed her side, occasionally meeting her skin as the fabric of her shirt lifted with his movements. The large size of his hands made it apparent that his hold was unwavering, with his grip slightly tightening every time Josie choked out a low sob.

She focused on the breath blowing just above the upper shell of her ear, lightly brushing the wisps of hair by her face. The constant honey-sweet words that spewed from lush pink lips—words that Josie stuffed into her heart like the cotton of a pillow. She listened as he promised, like it was his only purpose in life, to make sure that she would be okay.

He was her best friend, her sunshine, and her co-captain. He'd always protect her.

She turned her head from JJ to watch John B move closer to get a better look, and she quickly jutted out her left hand as if it would get him to stop. She was so terrified that if any of them took the wrong step, they'd descend to the ground. When he nodded to show that he was okay, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall, rubbing her right hand up and down JJ's back in an attempt of distraction.

"Just hum something, Jose, quietly. Don't think about it." If JJ hadn't been close enough to where his lips ghosted over her ear, Josie wasn't sure she would've heard him.

She could feel as he stretched across her back to get a better listen of what was going on in the room. She leaned into the wall and very faintly hummed the first Taylor Swift song that popped into her head, while she focused solely on the lyrics burned into her memory.

Despite her best interest, she let her gaze wander out to Kiara and Pope and immediately met the incredibly worried gaze of her best friends. Kiara looked ready to climb up the roof to get Josie down herself, and her eyes widened they made contact with the green color of Josie's.

Kie tried to speak to her through their gazes, but Josie's attention had already gone somewhere else.

The redhead couldn't help it as her sight fell to the ground below them, realizing how high they were from the grass below. Josie knew that to any rational person; it was only a mere jump down. But that's why they were called irrational fears.

Because to Josie, it felt like she was about to fall from a plane without a parachute.

Once the fear fully set into her bones, she moved to cover her mouth as a loud sob involuntarily escaped her lips. She stumbled as she lost her footing, and she swore that it was the end of her. She was going to be sick right there on the roof.

The grip around her tightened as JJ urgently tried to keep her from slipping off the roof. In the chaos of the stumble, the stolen gun fell from JJ's pants and loudly clanged against metal dumpster at the bottom. Both boys winced and sunk into hiding as JJ pulled Josie even further away from the window.

She leaned forward into the wall again, muttering out a small "sorry," aware that it was completely her fault. But JJ was quick to lean in and diminish her apologies, assertively stating that everything was fine. It was just the gun. It didn't matter.

She was petrified as she watched the blinds of the window lift open, and JJ pulled Josie as close as possible without hanging off of her back. And try as she might to focus on the fact that her uncle was about to catch then, her brain quickly began to short circuit not only from her fear, but also from the close proximity of her best friend pushed up against her.

She chalked it up to the fact that she was a teen girl, and he was a boy. Naturally, she'd be weird about how pressed together they were.

Josie turned her head to look at John B again, who nodded in reassurance and brought a finger to his mouth. She returned the nod in understanding, before she pressed herself back into the wall to calm her sobs. Tears persistently fell down her face as she opted to instead tap a song into JJ's side.

"Alright. Let's go," the familiar voice from inside the room affirmed, and Shoupe retreated from the window. "No one's here."

They waited with bated breath and listened for the motel door to slam shut, before John B quickly opened the window and rushed a still-crying Josie into the room. Once she was back on the flat floor, she turned to point her finger at John B as he climbed through. "You're a son of a bitch, John Booker Routledge! You're an asshole, and I hate you so much!" She couldn't contain the mixed sobs of relief and terror that flew from her lips, which she tried to muffle with her palm.

John B gazed at her apologetically, pulling her into a secure embrace and rubbing her head. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I had to. It's all clear now, we're okay."

Josie was grateful that even though she was blubbering like a baby, her friends were more than understanding of the reason. They'd seen it a fair few time—the overwhelming sense of terror that rushed through Josie the moment she was in the air. They'd been nothing but supportive and comforting every time she had to face whatever had brought her to the heights in the first place.

John B let Josie pull away first, and he swiped at the tears that fell from her eyes as her cries slowed. "I'm sorry. Promise I don't hate you." He chuckled at her declaration and nodded to assure her that he knew that.

"Alright, let's get outta here, yeah?" JJ joked once Josie fully removed herself from John B, grabbing her hand with his. She could only answer with a nod, desperate to catch her breath as he pulled her to his side and placed a lasting kiss on her temple.

Their hands separated once he pulled back, leaving Josie's hand cold and tingly. She ignored the feeling as JJ motioned for her to follow him and John B out of the door.

Once they'd gotten the all-clear from the duo in the boat, the trio descended the stairs and headed back out toward the water. As John B and Jose marched through the grass, JJ departed for a quick moment. But before Josie could turn to question JJ's actions, she caught sight of Kiara's sternly concerned gaze.

The brunette immediately rushed to the front of the boat, reaching her hand out for Josie to take as she tugged her into the boat. Without a second to spare, the younger girl pulled the redhead into an embrace.

"Are you okay? Do you need to take a second? Do you need something to eat? Drink?" Kie pulled away to assertively glance back at Pope. "Pope, grab a water from the cooler." She turned back to Josie to wipe the tear strands away from her cheeks.

Josie smiled gratefully, her breathing pattern returning to semi-normal after setting her feet back on the ground. She shook her head, before reaching out to wrap her friend in a much-needed embrace. "I'm okay, I think. Just need a moment to unscramble my thoughts and take a beat."

Kiara didn't pull away until Josie did, the latter wiping at the stray tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Kie pushed the strands falling into Josie's face back behind her ear and smiled proudly at her best friend. "Well, you did it. It's over now, and you're okay."

She latched their hands together and guided Josie to sit down beside her on the boat and recoup. Kie handed her the water that Pope passed her, and Josie took it happily. She downed the entire bottle before she placed it back into the cooler to be recycled. Her head fell to the side and onto Kie's shoulder as they sat together, and she squeezed her hand in appreciation.

The boys loaded onto the boat, and Josie refrained from saying anything as she gathered herself. As John B started their journey away from the motel and explained to the others what they'd seen, she could feel the weight slowly lift off her shoulders. It floated away in the presence of all four of her friends.

Her eyes met the blue of JJ's as he sat on the far end of the boat, and he inquiringly smiled at her. She returned her own smile, one that would reassure him that she was growing calm.

Once he was sure she was okay, he let out a playful quip. "Well, that was fun." His gaze drifted playfully around the group, before setting back on Josie. "Could've warned us a little sooner."

Josie pressed her lips together in agreement. She felt a squeeze of her hand, and she looked over to catch an apologetic Kie. "We would've, except Pope was on the math team."

Josie's head quirked in confusion as John B spoke up. "When were you on the math team?" Josie looked at the brunette like he'd grown two heads. The more important question was how that was at all relevant to them escaping sooner.

"The cops took everything like it was a crime scene. Did you guys find anything?" Pope questioned as he looked between Josie and JJ.

Josie's brows furrowed in thought as she shook her head. She didn't remember them taking anything, other than JJ's obvious gun snatch. But when she turned to look over at John B, she caught the mischievous smirk on his face as he turned away.

JJ's voice called her attention back. "Did we find anything, Jose?" JJ reached into his pockets, and Josie's green eyes widened as he pulled out both the gun and a stack of cash from the safe. "No, I don't think so. Oh yeah, we did."

"What the hell?" Pope admonished as he stood from his spot by the wheel.

Josie groaned and folded into her knees, pressing her face against her thighs. Hopefully, this would stop her from having to acknowledge her incredibly idiotic best friend.

"Dude, what?" Kiara questioned, looking down at her shamed friend as if she'd answer her. But Josie had no logical explanation for JJ, ever.

JJ tried to reason as he approached a stern Pope. "Dude, chill. Come on."

"Why would you take that from a crime scene?"

"It's better than the cops having it," JJ argued. Though for what, Josie assumed he wasn't sure. None of them knew exactly what they were getting involved in, much less why the cops were a variable. Nevertheless, she understood his quick aversion to assisting cops in any way, shape, or form.

She turned her head on her thighs and eyed her friends as Kiara chastised John B. "Are you serious?" John B's smile fell as he met her critical glare.

"I'm gonna lose my merit scholarship," Pope strained, frustration and irritation apparent as he looked over at the girls. But his expression of stress was interrupted by none other than the blond in his face.

"Hey, hey, hey." JJ shushed him, fleetingly placing the gun against his mouth like a finger, as his left arm wrapped around Pope's shoulders. Pope was quick to gently push the gun down and away from his face. Josie mentally praised her friend for having enough common sense to notice the danger of haphazardly handling a gun. "At least you have us, right?"

Pope pulled away from JJ, glancing at the girls once again. "I'm living the nightmare."

Josie gave him a pitying stare as JJ looked around at the others confused, unsure as to why his statement was worth Pope's dread. But, to a certain degree, Josie understood Pope's frustration.

While she loved the Outer Banks, or more so the certain people that lived there, she too sometimes found herself desperate for some space, an escape. That was why the idea of Chapel Hill was so appealing.

She'd be a mere few hours' car and boat ride away should she ever wish to see the pogues, but she could also fill the gaps in between with her own self-growth and discovery. She could learn and figure out her identity away from her hometown, not necessarily from the friends there.

Her wandering thoughts were pulled back to focus as Pope spoke up again. They all began to discuss what to do after they'd investigated the motel, and Kira eventually suggested that they chill on the docks to wait and see if anything suspicious came up. If someone was looking for a lost boat or talking about the motel, that's most likely where they'd be.

So, that's exactly where they holed up.

The pogues met up with a few other teens from The Cut, and they waited as people came and went from the docks. Some were looking for their loved ones; others were looking for people to help clean up; and some were trying to find ways to contact the people they couldn't find.

Josie and Kie took up a spot on an ice box, and the duo played a game of War on a stray cooler to keep themselves occupied.

Josie looked up from her winning round when she heard the sound of a woman's desperate cry. Her eyes searched for the origin, before she found herself staring right at a dead body with said crying woman hunched over it. Goosebumps littered her arms, and Josie had to contain the shiver of sadness and horror that ran up and down her spine. She felt her stomach churn and had to swiftly avert her eyes.

She felt sick.

She could only guess it was another loved one finding their lost person after the hurricane, and her heart filled with overwhelming pain. She didn't even want to imagine what that kind of loss felt like.

She looked down to flip another card with Kiara, distracting herself as Kiara's five beat Josie's two. She tried to keep the acid in her stomach from lurching out at the reminder of what she'd seen.

"Who's that?" John B asked as he nodded toward the body on the stretcher.

Josie glanced up to observe the woman as she stroked the man's face, trying to keep her eyes only locked on her. She could already feel her own tears well up in the ducts of her eyes. She was extra sensitive after what had happened earlier, so it felt easy to get herself wound up. Something like that intimate yet tragic act of love was enough to get her emotions twisting.

"It's Scooter Grubbs," Cassidy Peele, a girl from The Cut, answered. "He was out during the storm. Check out this pic that I got." She held out her phone for them to see, and Josie winced when she realized it was a clear picture of Scooter's body. "Dead body."

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Josie groaned as she pushed the phone away from her face. She bent to rest her elbows on her knees, cradling her head in her palms. Kie's hand rubbed up and down her back soothingly. "Real classy, Peels."

Cassidy rolled her eyes at Josie's chide, showing the rest of the group the photo. Josie's gaze drifted back over to the woman and her loved one, her stomach growing tight as she sympathetically hurt for the woman's loss.

"What kind of boat did he have?" JJ inquired, and Josie puzzledly turned to look up at him. He didn't think a guy from The Cut could own a Grady-White, did he?

"Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady-White. Everyone's out looking for it."

Josie turned to look at Kiara, brows creased as she strained to put the puzzle pieces together. It just didn't make sense.

How, or why, would Scooter Grubbs have a safe full of money and a map marked with coordinates in a motel room? How did someone from the south-side of the island even acquire an incredibly expensive boat? Why were the cops treating the motel room like a crime scene and not a missing person's investigation?

So many questions, so few answers.

Eventually, the group made the decision to make their way back to the Chateau. It was a private place for them to talk without prying ears or eyes. It had begun to sink in for Josie that the guy whose motel room they'd just been in was dead. Their DNA was all over that room. If the cops decided to check it again, which was entirely probable, they could easily be convicted with tampering with a crime scene or worse.

And yet, at the same time, curiosity ate at her as she tried to figure out what exactly was going on. Had it been a drug-smuggling operation gone wrong? Was it really just an accident in the ocean?

Maybe Scooter had been cheating on his wife, and his affair partner had finally put their foot down and threatened to rat him out. So, he got the money to offer as hush-money. And if they refused to take it, he'd had a backup plan to kill them with the gun.

Maybe he'd already done it, and he'd actually taken the boat out during the hurricane to throw the body overboard. People throughout history had done the same thing dozens of times: throwing dead bodies overboard to plummet to the depths of the sea.

That sounded probable, but then why did he end up dead?

Josie's thoughts were scattered everywhere in her brain as the group congregated on the screen porch. When they'd arrived at the Chateau, she was no longer able to hold in her sick from seeing Scooter's body. To ease her newly empty stomach, she chewed down on a granola bar.

She ran through every possible option, trying to also offer any type of solution to their predicament. But they all remained in their own heads as Pope frantically paced around the yard.

She and Kiara sat next to each other on the couch, while JJ played with his lighter in a lone chair, and John B leaned against the screened wall in front of the girls.

"Okay. So, um...we didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We didn't do anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia." Pope pointed to each of them as he spoke. The end of his statement was directed toward John B as he sat down beside Josie on the couch.

"Actually, Pope's right, for once."

Josie turned to JJ like he'd just stated he was giving up weed. Since when had he ever heeded Pope's warnings? "See? I agree with you sometimes."

JJ stood and made his way toward John B nonchalantly as he pointed at each of them. "Deny, deny, deny." As JJ spoke, Josie silently mimicked his predictable words. The mantra was one she'd heard more than once—a rather common JJ saying.

"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kie admonished.

Josie hummed in agreement as she twiddled with the granola wrapper. None of them knew for sure what that money was for. The whole thing was incredibly sketchy.

"Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, guys." JJ pointedly turned toward the girls.

Josie shook her head as she returned his gaze, nodding toward Kiara. "She's right, JayJ. We have to pass that money off to Lana Grubbs."

"Otherwise, it's bad karma," Kie finished. While Josie's concern leaned more toward the legal repercussions, she was still very aware of the spiritual ones that could bite them all in the ass if they weren't careful.

"Yeah, do you know how many archaeologists have died or been seriously maimed because they decided to disrespectfully take something from the dead? You really want to take that chance?" Josie stared quizzically at JJ, but he only offered a shrugged response. As if the implication of Scooter's spirit making the rest of his life a living hell wasn't enough to warrant caution.

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too." Pope's addition earned a tap to his arm in agreement from Josie, and she conclusively pointed up at JJ as he continued. "We gotta go dark."

JJ slowly walked past them and pushed Josie's raised hand down. "If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree." Josie rolled her eyes and leaned back against the couch as he moved to the screen door. Her gaze fell to John B, and she waited to hear what his brain had been concocting.

He leaned up from his spot against the screen and patted JJ's shoulder. "I don't agree."

JJ's forehead slightly creased as he watched John B move away from him. "What? Why?"

John B walked across the porch as he spoke; all the pogues' attention focused intently on him. "Just think about it. This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about, right? Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas."

"We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White?" He looked at them matter-of-factly and raised his hands in faux surrender. "Just sayin'."

Josie huffed out in exasperation, sliding further into the couch and crossing her arms. She felt Kie playfully pat her head in comfort. Of course, John B had to make things a tiny bit more difficult.

After they moved out to fish on the dock, John B brought the conversation up once again. "Alright, so think about it, Pope. How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"

Pope inhaled sharply as he considered his answer, "prostitution."

Josie chuckled as John B rolled his eyes, and she leaned forward against the dock beside JJ. Her eyes watched his lure bob in the murky water.

"Square-groupers, bro," John B corrected pointedly. "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane."

Josie silently acknowledged his point, pursing her lips, and further considered her previous observation about a drug deal under the radar. Maybe there was a possibility that there was some type of smuggling going on.

"What does that mean? JJ?" John B moved to point behind him at the blond.

Josie glanced to her right, watching the thoughts quickly bounce across his face. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he aided in John B's theory. "They were straight smugglin'."

"Smugglin'," John B agreed. Kiara turned to look back at Josie in disbelief, but the redhead could only shrug in response. It wasn't that far-fetched.

"And I guarantee that there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."

Finally, something Josie could get onboard with.

With the claim out in the open and out for the taking, Josie couldn't help but latch onto the bait, same as JJ. If there was weed, she was very inclined to be involved. And the boy to her right seemed to agree. "Hell yeah."

She watched as the pole bent, indicating that something had latched on. She tapped JJ's shoulder in support as he pulled back to reel the line in and keep it away from her face. "Fish on."

The group moved back to the shack shortly after, congregating in John B's room as they discussed the idea of the boat belonging to smugglers and the money they'd found because of it.

It was an interesting turn that the day had taken, and Josie steadily grew more intrigued by the whole ordeal.

She laid on her back at the foot of John B's bed, head hung off the end and legs tucked under one of Pope's. She smiled up at the blue-eyed boy that sat in her eyesight, and he grinned back down at her as he poked at different parts of her face.

"For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it, it probably belongs to someone else."

Kie shrugged. "Minor details."

"They could come looking for it. Taking it would be catastrophically stupid."

Josie laughed and sat up to fully face Pope, her brow raised to indicate that he was fighting a losing battle. JJ leaned over her hunched body, placing one hand on her shoulder and the other taking the wad of cash from Pope's hand. "Right, well, stupid things...have good outcomes all the time." Another common JJ mantra.

Josie scooted left as he leaned forward on the bed, spreading the money out in his hands to clearly display the plethora of hundred-dollar bills. She couldn't help but gravitate toward the smug, persuasive look that JJ shot both resident brainiacs.

He sent Josie a quick wink, his eyes glimmering with mischief. It was clear he knew she was much more inclined than Pope was.

"All we need to do right now is just figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck," JJ reasoned as he looked around at them. "Until then, we just lay low. Just act normal." He leaned back against the open window.

Josie nodded and pursed her lips in agreement, sharing a look with Kie that admitted they couldn't really argue with his plan. Pope, however, was not as easily convinced. "Right, and how exactly do we do that?" He looked at the blond expectantly.

"Kegger?" Kiara suggested, and the rest of the pogues nodded in agreement. It was the fastest way to make themselves look like a regular group of teens hanging out for the summer.

John B looked to Josie, his smile growing as he raised his brow. "Whatd'ya say, Corporate? Final verdict?"

Josie glanced back at Pope, who returned the gaze disapprovingly, but who also knew that she was far too hooked to cross the line back onto his side. She glanced around at her friends, catching JJ's smirk and nod as she weighed her options.

Lay low until they figure out how to get the contraband from the boat, and then risk being caught doing something illegal? But also have the possibility of scoring quite a bit of contraband. Or, give the money to someone else and pretend none of this ever happened?

She sent Pope a fleetingly apologetic look, before tilting her head at John B with a smile. "I still got that unused keg from Cory's birthday in my basement, ripe for the taking."

⋄ ⋟⋆ june 18, 2020 #2

my heart broke into pieces this afternoon as I stood atop the mountains of my own demons. the fear of falling consumed my being and ground it to tiny chunks, only to then spit me back out into the cruel reality of life. and I thought things couldn't get any worse than finding myself in the air without wings. But then I saw it, I saw death greet someone like an old friend. the wailing widow stood over him in sadness, and it took everything in me to hold my grief back from harmonizing with hers. how do you handle such a thing? it reminded me that, no matter who it is, every single person on this little floating rock has something in their life and past that is probably worth collapsing to the ground in an inconsolable sobbing heap over. I was reminded of how truly lucky I was to have blue eyes and safe smiles. be nice to others, and find comfort in the search for others' joy.

- josephine grey ⋄ ⋟⋆

[goldcoastcanalcruises]

Sail Into Adventure: Gold Coast Boat Charters for Unforgettable Experiences

Explore the stunning Gold Coast waterways in style with a private boat charter. Whether you're seeking a luxurious day out, a fun-filled fishing trip, or a serene sunset cruise, a boat charter offers a unique way to enjoy the beauty of the Gold Coast. With customizable packages, you can plan the perfect adventure, from snorkeling to island hopping or simply relaxing on deck. Ideal for special occasions or just a day of relaxation, Gold Coast boat charters provide the ultimate escape on the water.

Discover the Magic of Gold Coast Boat Charters! ⛵✨   If you’re dreaming of a perfect day out on the sparkling waters of the Gold Coast, a boat charter is the way to go! Whether you’re celebrating a special occasion, looking for a unique adventure, or just wanting to soak up the sun, here are a few reasons to book a charter:

Breathtaking Views: Experience the stunning coastline and vibrant marine life. The Gold Coast's beaches and skyline from the water offer a view you won’t want to miss!

Customizable Experiences: From fishing trips to sunset cruises, you can tailor your boat charter to fit your vibe—relaxing or action-packed, it’s your choice!

Privacy & Comfort: Enjoy an intimate day with friends or family away from the crowds. Many charters come with comfortable seating, food options, and even water sports!

Local Expertise: Let experienced captains guide you to the best spots. They know the hidden gems and can share stories about the area’s rich maritime history.

Unforgettable Memories: Capture special moments and create lasting memories with your loved ones out on the water.

Ready to embark on a breathtaking adventure? 🌊 Book your Gold Coast boat charter today and let the waves carry you into a day of fun and relaxation!

[alfieco]

Yacht Charter Gold Coast  | Alfie & Co

Discover luxury and relaxation aboard G5. Explore the captivating waterways of the Gold Coast and embark on an adventure through the wrecks of Tangalooma throughout the year with Yacht Charter Gold Coast .

Whether you're captivated by boat syndication or enticed by membership, our walk-on walk-off service guarantees unforgettable moments aboard G5.

URL:- https://www.mvalfieandco.com.au/

[miamimarinesurveyorfl]

SAMS Surveyors: SAMS Surveyors: The Gold Standard in Marine Surveying

Title: "SAMS Surveyors: The Gold Standard in Marine Surveying" When it comes to excellence in marine surveying, the reputation of sams surveyors stands unrivaled. A crucial aspect for anyone involved with marine operations, whether you are buying a boat, insuring one, or ensuring compliance with safety regulations, sams surveyors provide the expertise needed. Marine Survey Information is key, and that’s where sams surveyors step in. With decades of experience, Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting relies on the professional services provided by sams surveyors. These experts conduct detailed assessments of vessels, ensuring all components meet the necessary standards and regulations. The critical role of sams surveyors cannot be overstated, as each survey they perform contributes to the safety and operational efficiency of marine vessels. sams surveyors bring an unparalleled depth of knowledge to their craft. Their assessments help identify potential issues that could become serious if left unnoticed. For someone looking to purchase a vessel, information provided by sams surveyors is invaluable. It not only influences purchasing decisions but also impacts insurance rates and compliance with maritime laws. The training undertaken by sams surveyors is rigorous. They undergo extensive programs to ensure that they can handle the diverse challenges presented by different types of vessels. From small fishing boats to large cargo ships, sams surveyors adapt their skills to meet specific needs and requirements. In addition to conducting surveys, sams surveyors also offer consultation services. Many boat owners rely on the expert advice from sams surveyors to maintain their vessels. Regular consultations with sams surveyors help mitigate risks associated with wear and tear and the harsh marine environment. Marine Survey Information provided by sams surveyors helps in creating transparency in the buying and selling process of vessels. Their reports give buyers the confidence that the vessel is exactly as represented by the seller. This trust is crucial in transactions involving such substantial investments. However, the scope of work for sams surveyors extends beyond just surveys and consultations. They also play a pivotal role during emergencies and accidents. Assessments done by sams surveyors are vital for determining damages and necessary repairs, facilitating smoother insurance claims processes. Sun Coast Marine Surveying & Consulting has witnessed firsthand the dedication of sams surveyors to maintaining high standards in their work. Their commitment ensures that all activities related to marine surveying are done meticulously and accurately. For those involved in marine industries, partnering with sams surveyors means securing peace of mind. Knowing that your vessel has been thoroughly inspected and assessed by sams surveyors provides assurance of its performance and safety at sea. sams surveyors also contribute extensively to educational efforts in the marine industry. Through workshops and seminars, sams surveyors share their knowledge, helping to elevate industry standards. This contribution underscores the broader role of sams surveyors in nurturing a culture of safety and excellence. Engaging with sams surveyors not only aids in individual cases but also uplifts the overall marine industry. The insights provided by sams surveyors into vessel conditions and maintenance requirements can guide policy formulation and regulatory adjustments. Finally, as technology evolves, so do the techniques used by sams surveyors. They continuously update their methods and tools to incorporate technological advancements, ensuring that their surveys remain comprehensive and up-to-date. Therefore, when it comes to marine surveying, there truly is no substitute for the expertise offered by sams surveyors. Their thorough inspections and reliable reporting set the gold standard, making them indispensable partners in the marine sector.

sams surveyors

[fashioneditswebsite]

Tommy Hilfiger’s nautical NYFW show makes a splash on a Staten Island ferry

Tommy Hilfiger presented his spring/summer 2025 collection on the unusual location of a decommissioned Staten Island ferry. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Tommy Hilfiger (@tommyhilfiger) For his latest New York Fashion Week show, the American designer paid homage to the nautical lifestyle that has inspired the brand for almost 40 years. He took guests to the John F. Kennedy boat, which served as a Staten Island Ferry until decommissioned in 2021. Pete Davidson and Colin Jost, both New York natives, bought it the following year with other investors. The collection had nautical accents such as anchor motifs and Breton stripes (Charles Sykes/AP) Hilfiger's love letter to the East Coast of America extended to the Empire State Building, lit up in the label's colors. The show's invitation was a Tommy-fied version of a brass Staten Island Ferry token, a remnant of New York history. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Empire State Building (@empirestatebldg) The New York-born designer unveiled his second collection since returning to the NYFW schedule with a further refined luxury aesthetic. The pieces were classically Tommy: navy captain’s blazers and trench coats, cricket sweaters and cable-knit V-necks, pleated prim dresses, and capri pants. The nautical theme ran throughout, with anchor motifs and Breton stripes aplenty. Hilfiger made the classic styles modern through contemporary tailoring (Charles Sykes/AP) “It’s the New American Prep wardrobe, fusing vibrant Ivy League style with everyday coastal functionality,” the label said in a statement. Hilfiger wanted to “live within our brand codes: Stripes, red, white, and blue, nautical and collegiate preppy.” Modern silhouettes, crinkled cotton, and fabrics encompassing sportswear's fluidity energized the signature looks. “Today, it’s updated and remixed for 2025,” said Hilfiger. “The look has the ease of effortless summer style, but with a confidence that feels ready to step off the ferry and back into the city.” The collection featured classic Breton and Ithaca shirting stripes, regatta jackets, and utility trousers made from sail-cloth nylons. Celebrities in the front row included Gen V actor Patrick Schwarzenegger, 30, who recently became the brand’s face. In a herringbone tweed suit jacket and nautical-striped shirt, View this post on Instagram A post shared by Tommy Hilfiger (@tommyhilfiger) Schwarzenegger embodied the brand's quintessentially preppy aesthetic. Schwarzenegger was accompanied by Blackpink’s Jisoo, 29, who noted Hilfiger’s hip-hop influence of the Nineties in a leather baseball jacket and beanie. Others in attendance included actor Brooke Shields, who watched her daughter, Grier, on her first Fashion Week runway. “I got very emotional,” Shields said. “It was her first show and this is something she wanted to do. And I said, ‘You’ve got to go to college, but it’s a Sunday, so it’s OK.’” View this post on Instagram A post shared by Gabby Thomas (@gabbythomas) Sports stars were out in force – including Olympic gold medal-winning sprinter Gabby Thomas, who wore a herringbone double-breasted blazer over a white mini dress, and gymnast Sunisa Lee in a classic belted trench coat. Romee Strijd, Noah Beck, Tinashe, and Wu-Tang Clan members enjoyed a surprise performance at the event. Tommy Hilfiger demonstrated that the brand is as much part of the city’s iconography as the ship that hosted it. It is a true American classic. Read the full article

[qnewsau]

Martoya Jackson wins Brisbane's new Dragged Out pageant

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/martoya-jackson-wins-brisbanes-new-dragged-out-pageant/

Martoya Jackson wins Brisbane's new Dragged Out pageant

Queensland drag performer Martoya Jackson has won the inaugural Dragged Out pageant in Brisbane.

On Thursday night, the Brisbane riverside cabaret club Pink Flamingo Spiegeland hosted the huge new drag competition.

Fourteen local drag queens competed, vying for the title and performing four drag numbers across three different categories.

Brisbane’s Martoya Jackson was ultimately crowned winner and won a $3500 cash prize.

Martoya worked tirelessly for three months to produce her drag package and is so thrilled it all paid off.

“To my Dragged Out sisters I love you all… you’ve inspired me with your forms of drag,” she said.

“To the judges, thank you for seeing my love of the art form and choosing me as your reigning queen.

“I wanted to thank the team behind Dragged Out for bringing this opportunity to Queensland.”

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Martoya Jackson (@martoyajackson)

Martoya Jackson on her drag philosophy

Martoya Jackson is based in Brisbane but grew up in far north Queensland. Drawing on her Cook Island heritage and love of pop culture, Martoya bends the rules of drag as well as both male and female gender roles.

“Drag gives me permission to be myself out of drag,” Martoya explains.

“Drag allows me to find those experiences that help me find the courage I don’t have at times out of drag.

“Having this platform is a responsibility within the artistry of drag and a responsibility to myself to do the best that I can.”

Judges Ellie Gonsalves, Maude Pearl Boate, Sue Porrett and Shylie Hill picked which queen reigned supreme.

Gold Coast-based drag performer Justine Kace created and hosted the inaugural Dragged Out competition.

“Dragged Out was born from a desire to offer contestants something bigger and bolder in terms of production and resources,” Justine told us ahead of the competition

“This is the first event of its kind offering contestants a huge large-scale production and platform to showcase the best drag they possibly can.”

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[coolyecoinau]

The Environmental Impact of Swimming with Turtles: Gold Coast Conservation Efforts

Swimming with turtles is an unforgettable experience for many tourists visiting the Gold Coast. The serene waters and abundant marine life make it an ideal destination for those seeking an up-close encounter with these majestic creatures. However, as the popularity of swimming with turtles increases, so does the need for responsible tourism practices and conservation efforts to protect these vulnerable species and their habitats.

The Allure of Swimming with Turtles

The allure of swimming with turtles lies in the opportunity to observe these graceful animals in their natural environment. From the gentle strokes of their flippers to the mesmerizing patterns on their shells, turtles captivate the hearts of all who encounter them. The Gold Coast, with its pristine beaches and crystal-clear waters, provides the perfect backdrop for such encounters, drawing tourists from around the world.

The Environmental Impact

While swimming with turtles offers a unique and memorable experience, it also comes with potential environmental consequences. The increased human presence in turtle habitats can disrupt their natural behavior, disturb nesting sites, and even cause physical harm to these fragile creatures. Additionally, pollution from sunscreen, plastic waste, and boat traffic further threatens the health of marine ecosystems, including the habitats of turtles.

Conservation Efforts on the Gold Coast

Recognizing the importance of protecting turtles and their habitats, conservation organizations on the Gold Coast have implemented various initiatives to mitigate the impact of swimming with turtles. These efforts focus on education, research, and sustainable tourism practices to ensure the long-term survival of these iconic species.

Education and Awareness

One of the key strategies in turtle conservation is educating the public about the importance of respecting marine life and adopting responsible behavior when interacting with turtles. Through outreach programs, workshops, and signage at popular turtle sites, visitors are informed about the risks of disturbing turtles and encouraged to follow guidelines for ethical wildlife encounters.

Research and Monitoring

Understanding the behavior and ecology of turtles is essential for implementing effective conservation measures. Researchers on the Gold Coast conduct studies to track turtle populations, monitor nesting sites, and assess the impact of human activities on these animals. By collecting data and sharing findings with policymakers and stakeholders, they contribute valuable insights to turtle conservation efforts.

Sustainable Tourism Practices

Promoting sustainable tourism practices is vital for minimizing the environmental footprint of swimming with turtles. Tour operators and coastal resorts on the Gold Coast are encouraged to adhere to guidelines that prioritize turtle conservation, such as limiting the number of visitors, maintaining safe distances from turtles, and using eco-friendly products and equipment.

Conclusion

Swimming with turtles offers a magical experience that connects people with the wonders of the natural world. However, it is crucial to recognize the impact of human activities on turtle populations and take proactive steps to ensure their protection. Through education, research, and sustainable tourism practices, the Gold Coast is committed to safeguarding these beloved creatures for generations to come. By embracing the beauty of turtles responsibly, visitors can contribute to the conservation efforts that help preserve the delicate balance of marine ecosystems.