#Flew South For The Winter || {Queue}

[abevyofbirbs]

(*Will Smith poses* THE GIRL)

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Jairsolas

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Six

A JSE Fanfic

*gasp* A POV change?! For the first time in this story?! How exciting! Yeah short description because I’ve had a long day as of queueing this, but basically we follow Marvin as he tries to track down the King. But instead, along the way, he meets someone new. And that’s all I have to say. Hope you enjoy :)

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The noble family Portmota lived on the edge of the Southern Moors, their castle built on the last bit of solid land before the rivers came in and flooded the south of the kingdom. Officially, their claim covered all of the Moors, but everybody knew that the Moors ran on their own, much like the mountain villages to the west and north. But the meagerness of their claim didn’t stop the family from building themselves a solid, grand castle. It sat on top of a small hill, surrounded by a thick stone wall. The castle’s multiple towers reached the sky, and were numerous to require a large staff to keep the place running for the noble family and any visitors they might have.

With such a large body of servants, it was easy to slip in unnoticed. They always accepted help, and as long as you didn’t appear troublesome, they’d immediately snatch you up and put you to work the moment you asked for a position, no interview needed. 

This was something Marvin found out first hand when he decided to infiltrate the castle in preparation for the King’s visit.

Maybe they needed help to clean up for said visit, maybe they were always like this, the result was the same either way. All Marvin had to do was show up on the grounds, dressed in ragged clothes, and he was immediately hired by the head servant. She didn’t even mind when he said he had to keep his cat nearby at all times.

Once he was inside, it only took him a few days to get a scope of things. Normally his sense of direction was terrible, but the servants were always being sent on numerous chores, so the castle’s layout quickly solidified in his mind. The cleaning and cooking was...hard, he had to admit. Unlike Jackie and Schneep, he hadn’t grown up doing chores, and taking care of things was a relatively new skill. He went to bed in the servants’ quarters exhausted. But this was a small price to pay for the opportunity that had presented itself.

He began to notice odd things about the castle. First of all, effort was put into cleaning and clearing every room in every wing, even the ones that had been sealed off so the heat wouldn’t escape into the winter air. Every candlestick was being polished, every tapestry dusted out. Why all the work? Unless...there was something big happening.

There were also a lot more people wandering around the castle. Visitors. Nobility, to be specific. An oddly high amount. Not that the nobility didn’t like to go see each other, especially for parties, but the Portmota claim was currently home to just one person: the Marquess Portmota, the eldest member of the family. Marvin knew all the other Portmotas were either traveling, or had married into other noble families and now lived with them. There were far too many visitors in the castle for one woman to entertain, even for something as important as a Longest Night celebration.

Not to mention the rumors circling through the servants’ ranks. News spread fast through this network, and soon, maids, cooks, and gardeners were muttering to each other about the King himself visiting.

Marvin tried not to get too close to any of these servants. It would just...get in the way. Sure, many of them were friendly to him, offering to share lunches or spend their breaks with him. But...no, it wouldn’t work out. It couldn’t. Besides, he didn’t need them. All he needed was his familiar, Draco.

He’d been in Portmota Castle for a week when the rumors started to buzz. The cleaning suddenly intensified, and the visitors to the keep began strutting about in their finest clothes. One night, to confirm his suspicions, he asked a laundress named Mina what was going on.

“Huh? You mean you haven’t heard? You haven’t seen?” Mina glanced about the laundry room where she was busy working. Seeing nobody else nearby, she leaned close to Marvin and whispered, “They’ve seen the King! Here!”

Marvin’s eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. “Really? Why would he be here?”

“Why would he be here? For the Longest Night celebration!” Mina chuckled. “Elders, Westley, you can be oblivious,” she said, calling him by the fake name he was going by.

“Oh. That makes sense.” Marvin glanced down at the floor. Draco was batting at a loose sleeve dangling from a laundry bin, so he quickly bent over and scooped him up before the cat could knock the whole thing over. “Who saw him? How’d they know it was the King?”

“A couple people. Teresa, Connor, Kelley. They saw a man fitting his description walking around, with the brown hair and slender build, and Teresa pointed out he was walking very purposefully. Dressed finer than all other lords who’ve come to visit.” Mina dumped some of the laundry into a washbasin as she talked. “Kelley got really close to him, too, when they were serving food in the hall. They said he had the royal green eyes.”

“Royal green. Wow.” Marvin pretended to be in awe, and made sure not to show off any of the burning anger smoldering inside him. “If he’s the King, where’s he staying? I don’t think any room here would be noble enough for him.”

Mina shrugged. “Nobody’s said yet. There are a whole bunch of new rooms made up for the visitors, hard to tell. It’s not like he’ll be hanging the royal crest on the door.” She glanced about the room again, then nudged Marvin’s shoulder with some urgency. “Oh no, Ursula is coming. Better get out of sight before she demands you stop standing around and start working.”

“Right.”

That conversation was abruptly cut short, but Marvin got a lot of information from it. Namely, that the King really was here. The detail about the royal green eyes sealed it. Yes, the royal family were once known for their distinctive shade of green eyes, but none of them had actually been born with the color in recent generations. Until the current king. Something like that wouldn’t be forgotten easily. Now the question was how to get close to him.

He spent two days trying to figure out which room the King was staying in, but in the end, the answer fell right into his lap.

It was early morning, and he was in the kitchen, kneading bread for the day. It was a task he often volunteered for; something about the kneading motion was very calming to him. Even if Draco wandered around and tried to get under the feet of every grumbling chef and baker.

With no warning, the door suddenly flew open, and a voice called, “Any of you lot free for a quick delivery?!”

Everyone looked over in unison. It was Ursula, the head servant. “Depending what the delivery is!” answered Everett, the head cook.

“We need a breakfast tray prepared quick!” Ursula demanded. “It’s urgent!”

The chefs and bakers muttered amongst themselves. “How urgent is it?” Everett asked.

Ursula huffed. “Very. One of the lady’s important guests ordered it. And we don’t wanna upset him.”

Marvin’s head shot up. Could it be...?

“Alright, don’t get your skirt twisted, Helendaugh,” Everett muttered, rolling his eyes. “We’ll make one up. But you’ll need someone else to bring it up. We’re all busy here, if you couldn’t tell.”

“No one else can bring it up! They’re all busy too! Sure, I could scout around for someone, but that’ll take too long! Do I need to repeat that he ordered it urgently? Or that we can’t upset him?”

Marvin slowly raised his hand. “Um...sir? If you give me a minute, I’ll be finished. I can do it.”

Everett gave his kneading station a once-over, then nodded, satisfied. “Alright, that’ll be just enough time to make up the tray. See, Ursula? Westley can do it, no problem.”

Judging by the tightness of her face and the way she was wringing her hands, Ursula still thought there was a problem. But she stepped back. “Okay. Westley, you’ll want to head up the central tower, all the way to the top room. Knock on the door, but don’t wait for a reply. Open it and slide the tray right in, then close it and leave.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“Make sure you do. This is very important, for a very important guest.” Ursula took a few more steps back, right out the door. Then she shut it behind her.

Some time later, Marvin was practically running through the halls of Portmota Castle, Draco at his heels. The central tower was quite far away from the kitchens. Though...a tower room was odd. Most nobility preferred to stay in the keep itself, since towers got drafty, and walking up and down the stairs was rarely worth the view. Maybe the King was different? Eh. It didn’t really matter. The King wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy that tower room.

Marvin stopped at the base of the central tower, breathing heavily. He quickly glanced around, but luckily, the area was clear of any servants or noble visitors. Good. He needed to be quick. He slid over to the wall and knelt down, putting the tray of food on the floor. There was a floor-length tapestry nearby, and he pulled it over his shoulders, partially hiding him from view.

Then he reached under his shirt and pulled out a pendant on a chain. A beautiful pendant, with its smooth, palm-sized emerald and silver frame looking too expensive for the rusted chain it hung from. Even though wearing it might give him away, he couldn’t bear to part from his magical focus. A wizard without a focus was like a painter without their paint. They couldn’t do anything without it.

Quickly, Marvin pressed two fingers to the surface of the emerald, which immediately started glowing. When he pulled his hand away, the glowing light stuck to his fingertips. He drew a rectangle on the ground with his fingers, leaving light behind like chalk on a board. Once the rectangle was fully formed, the middle of it faded away. Now, Marvin was looking at the inside of a small box. And inside the box were a few things. A small dagger, a bottle of brown glass, a coil of thread, a white handkerchief, and a candle. Marvin plucked the bottle out from the box. He reached for the breakfast tray—swatting Draco away in the process with a “No, not for you”—and pulled it closer. Then he unstopped the bottle, poured a few drops of the liquid inside onto all the food items, and stopped it again, putting it back inside the small box. Once the bottle was back in place, the glowing rectangle disappeared. The floor reappeared as solid stone once more, with no sign of the magical box that had just been there.

“Good,” Marvin said, grinning to himself. He pulled away the tapestry, picked up the food tray, and stood up. “Now for the most difficult part...the stairs.”

That statement was a joke—a joke for no one, really, since Draco was the only one around and he didn’t really understand human humor—but Marvin was definitely winded by the time he reached the room at the tower top. No matter how often he walked up stairs, no matter how frequently he’d done so in the past week, he still hated them. Maybe that said more about how fit he was than the design of the stairs themselves. Which made no sense, he’d spent the past few years running around the kingdom, surely he’d be more fit by now?

He was getting distracted. The room door was in front of him. Wooden. A fine door, but no more fine than literally any other door in the castle. Yet...the King was inside.

Following the instructions, Marvin knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for a reply before easing it open and setting the tray down on the floor inside. Draco almost poked his head through the gap, but Marvin pushed him back, then closed the door.

He waited for a few minutes. Expecting to hear movement inside. But there was nothing. Well...the room must have thick walls, then. With his task accomplished, Marvin turned back and headed back down the stairs, which proved much friendlier on the way down.

That poison worked quickly. By that night, they’d hear news of the King’s assassination.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

But that was not the case.

Marvin waited with anticipation, but nothing happened. There was no outcry of poison, no panic as the King’s lackeys were left unsure what to do. Things proceeded as normal. Leaving him confused. He was sure he got the dose right, and he’d made sure to poison all of the food on the tray. Hadn’t he?

The next morning, the exact same thing happened. Ursula barged into the kitchen, demanding a breakfast tray for an important guest. Everett said everyone was busy, and Ursula repeated the urgency. So, Marvin volunteered to deliver it again. Once he was alone, he took the poison from the hidden box and again dosed the food, making sure to add a bit more this time before putting the poison back and delivering the food to the top of the tower. He even had to push Draco back from the door again.

But still, nothing happened.

And when the same thing happened the next morning, Marvin was about ready to shout out “Am I going mad?!” But he didn’t, and instead played it cool. This time, Everett asked him to take the tray up ahead of time, expecting him to be able to. And of course, Marvin agreed, and secretly added even more of the poison. And of course, Draco once again tried to squeeze into the room at the top of the tower. Honestly, Marvin felt he should have more control of his familiar, but given how cats were impossible to order around under normal circumstances, he took Draco even listening to him as a plus.

When nothing happened the fourth day, Marvin began to suspect something unusual was going on. Perhaps someone tampered with the poison? No, that should be impossible. That box was buried in the ground, far away from Portmota Castle. He could only access it because of his magic. But...maybe? If he tried again today and the King still did not die, he’d try a different method.

So once more, he took the breakfast tray when offered, headed to a private area to get the poison out of the box, added yet more of it to the food, and trekked up the stairs to the room at the top of the central tower. He knocked on the door, then without waiting for a response, opened it to slide the tray inside.

And the instant the opening was big enough, Draco leaped through the gap and into the room beyond.

“Draco!” Marvin cried out, dropping the breakfast tray. Without thinking about what to do next, he threw the door open and rushed inside to scoop up his cat.

But of course, there was someone in there. Someone who’d been startled by the sudden appearance of an off-white cat, but was even more surprised to see someone run into the room after it.

Marvin skidded to a halt, looked around, and before he could even think about it, blurted out, “You’re not the King.”

The person inside slowly shook their head.

“Oh.” Marvin took a step back. Now that he wasn’t worried about his familiar jumping into the hands of the King, he gave the stranger inside a once-over.

The person—Marvin now recognized him as a man��looked a bit like the King, at a first glance. He had brown hair, as most people in the kingdom did, and was fairly thin. But he was shorter than the King was said to be, had a distinct, dark mustache, and most importantly, blue eyes. Not green. His clothes were fine, indicating nobility, but the style was a bit old fashioned. Like the black bow he wore around his neck, something that had gone out of style at least ten years ago.

Draco was sitting on a stool next to the man, looking very self-satisfied. Evidently, the strange man had started petting him right before Marvin barged in.

“Well...sorry, then,” Marvin said awkwardly.

The man smiled and shrugged. He gestured to Draco.

“Huh? Yes, sorry about him. And about barging in, I wasn’t thinking.” Marvin glanced around the room. “So...is the King going to be back soon?”

The man tilted his head, puzzled. And shook his head.

“Why do you look so confused?” Marvin took a minute to think. Then a possibility occurred to him. “Wait...is the King...not staying in these rooms?”

And the man shook his head again.

“Damn it,” Marvin whispered, barely audible. 

Honestly, looking around the room, he didn’t think this place was fit for a king, anyway. Certainly, it was noble. There were plush sofas and chairs sitting about, and a desk with a mirror and stool in the corner. The windows had thick blue curtains that one could pull over to cover the glass. And he could see two more doors, both slightly ajar and showing a bedroom and a bathroom. But...it was rather small, in all honesty. The furniture was pushed together, and the blue wallpaper looked a bit old. Not to mention it was cold, as well, with no fireplace. Marvin wished he’d thought to bring a cloak, but the one he owned was too fine, and he had to leave it behind while masquerading as a servant.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” Marvin said politely. “They said someone very important was ordering the breakfast trays so—wait, have you been eating that food?”

The man looked embarrassed, and shook his head again.

“No? Well it couldn’t just disappear.”

Now even more embarrassed, the man pointed towards the bathroom.

“You’ve been...dumping it in the lavatory?” Marvin realized, shocked. “Every day? Well no wonder you look so thin, then, if you’ve been skipping breakfast the whole time.” He then remembered the tray of poisoned food he’d brought, and dropped in the hallway. “Oh. But ah, might have actually been a good idea this time. I mean, the—if I’m being honest, it was all undercooked, anyway,” he lied. “And the one for today is all splattered now. Sorry.”

The stranger smiled good-naturedly. He nodded.

“Um...I’ll just leave now.” Marvin took a few steps backwards towards the door.

Hurriedly, the man shook his head, gesturing for him to stay. Meanwhile, Draco pressed his head against the man’s arm, demanding pets.

“Oh. Right. Draco, come on.”

Ears drooping, disappointed, Draco hopped off the stool and walked out the door. “Sorry about all this,” Marvin muttered, backing fully out of the room and pushing the door closed.

As it shut, he could have sworn the man inside had a very strange expression on his face. Something like disappointment and desperation mixed in one.

How...odd. Marvin hesitated, wondering if he should go back inside. But...maybe he’d misread the man’s face. That was far more likely than...whatever he just saw. Yes. He should turn his mind to more practical matters. Like where the King was actually staying, if not here. And getting someone to come up and clean the tray he’d dropped.

But as he retreated back down the stairs, he felt somehow regretful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next day, the order for a breakfast tray came in, as usual. Marvin wasn’t sure about delivering it, but by this point, he’d volunteered enough that Everett and Ursula expected him to. After all, it was much easier to have one person do something than to constantly find someone new every day. So Marvin quietly took the tray and headed to the central tower once more. This time, he did not stop to poison the food along the way. Now that he knew the King wasn’t there, it wasn’t much use.

When he knocked on the door, it swung open before he could pull it open himself. The strange man from the day before was standing there, smiling and practically bouncing with excitement. He immediately grabbed Marvin and dragged him into the room.

“Whoa! Watch out, you’ll spill the milk!” Marvin quickly set the breakfast tray down on the nearby desk, making sure nothing had fallen off. He didn’t want to make another mess.

The strange man didn’t respond to that comment. He was kneeling on the floor, petting Draco. Much to the cat’s delight, of course. There was a lot of purring.

“Why’d you do that?” Marvin asked. “Pull me in, I mean. If you want to know if the breakfast’s good to eat this time, it is. I...um, checked. Did you just want to pet my cat?”

The man made a so-so gesture.

Marvin suddenly felt frustrated. “Why don’t you just tell me what you want?!” he snapped.

At that, the man stopped. He looked over at Marvin, then stood up. He was wearing another neck bow today, blue this time, and he silently pulled it down so that his neck was more visible. There, right in the middle of his throat, were two scars, arranged in a + shape. Clearly the result of some sort of surgery.

“Oh.” Marvin’s stomach immediately sank. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

The man waved away his stammered apology with a small smile. It was clearly a sensitive subject, but since it was an accident, all was forgiven.

“Still, I...I’m very sorry. Ah...do you have something to write with, maybe?” Marvin suggested tentatively.

The man shook his head. He did that a lot, didn’t he?

“...nothing at all? What about in this desk?” Marvin wandered over to said desk, opening the drawers. But the man was right. There weren’t any quills or chalk to be seen. There wasn’t even any stationary, and Marvin knew that nobles were fond of keeping their own personalized paper nearby in case writing was needed. Instead, the desk’s drawers were mostly empty, only containing a few game boards and card decks.

As Marvin looked through the drawers, the man walked over to stand next to him, watching. When Marvin opened the drawer with the cards inside, he reached forward and quickly snatched up one of the decks. He turned to Marvin, grinning, and pointed at him, then at the cards.

“You...want to play cards?” Marvin asked, trying not to sound excited.

The man nodded.

“Well...I’m supposed to have chores, but why not?” Marvin grinned as well. “I have to warn you, I’m very good at Luck of the Deal.”

That only made the man smile wider. He guided Marvin over to the sofas and gestured for him to sit.

A couple hours passed before Marvin remembered he had more to do. Not just chores, but he also had to locate the King before the Longest Night celebration, after which he’d leave and return to Suilthair, the capital, and be untouchable. So Marvin hurriedly excused himself, but found himself leaving with a certain spring in his step. It had been a while since he’d sat down and played a few card games with someone. He...really missed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, he and the man in the tower developed a routine. Marvin would take a breakfast tray up to the room, and the man would drag him inside for a few games. Cards, mostly, though they pulled out some of the board games, too. The breakfast tray would be mostly ignored, though Marvin tried to insist that the man actually eat it. The stranger was on the thin side, after all, he probably needed a meal. A bit odd to see a skinny noble, actually. They could definitely afford enough to eat. But Marvin wasn’t going to ask, in case it was sensitive, like the voice issue.

There were, however, other questions that he wasn’t afraid to ask. The first one came up on the second day of this routine. They’d finished their first game of cards—Enchanter’s Gambit, a shorter one—and Marvin had asked, slowly, “Can you tell me your name? I understand you can’t speak it, but there has to be something I can call you.”

The man paused in shuffling the cards, thinking. Then he set down the deck, stood up, and walked over into the bedroom. A few moments later, he returned, holding something. He handed it to Marvin.

“A handkerchief?” Marvin asked, turning it over in his hands.

The man pointed to one of the cloth’s corners. Marvin examined it, and saw a small design embroidered in gray thread. A rabbit, curled up and sleeping, surrounded by a circle of thorny plants. It was the sign of a noble family. But not just any family. One Marvin instantly recognized.

“That’s the Jairsolas crest,” he gasped. “But—that’s—a-are you a friend of theirs, or...?” He trailed off, not needing to finish his question. The man’s grim expression confirmed everything. “That’s...impossible,” Marvin whispered. “They’re all dead.”

More specifically, they’d been massacred. By the King and his forces.

The death of the Jairsolas family had been one of the earliest signs of how dangerous the King was. The Count and Countess Jairsolas had ruled over the small family peacefully, loved by the people of their land. When the King began demanding more warriors, when he began taking away royal funds from medicine and farming, they were one of the nobles who protested. Eventually, they refused to enact his royal decrees in their northern territory, saying they would not compromise the welfare of their people. They accused the King of swiftly becoming a tyrant. The King immediately proved them right by forcibly invading their land and killing the entire family.

And yet, even after this clearly unwarranted act, there were still nobles out there who stood by the King. There were still warriors who pledged loyalty to him and believed in his cause. There were even common people who repeated that the King was just and good, though that was usually because they were simply unaware of what was going on. The nobles and warriors, however, had no excuse. They continued to fawn over the King and happily harm innocents. It made Marvin sick just thinking about them.

“I’m...so sorry,” Marvin said quietly.

The man nodded slowly, sadness flashing in his eyes. He must’ve been a more distant relative, to survive the King’s attack. Marvin, unsure what to do, placed a hand on his arm, hoping the gesture would convey the sympathy he felt. The man patted it, and smiled a bit, indicating it was alright.

“Jairsolas is a bit cumbersome,” Marvin said slowly. “Can I call you...Jair? For short?”

The man nodded, eagerly accepting the nickname. He pointed at Marvin, raising an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m M—I’m Westley.” Marvin remembered his pseudonym just in time, and quickly changed the subject. “Want to play another round?”

For someone who couldn’t speak, Jair was very expressive, gesturing widely and exaggerating his facial movements. Marvin assumed that was necessary, to compensate for not being able to say anything. Though it was odd that there were no writing utensils or parchment in his room. That seemed like it would be helpful, and easy to acquire, too. But Marvin didn’t want to push the issue. Maybe it was just a preference. Or maybe Jair assumed Marvin, appearing to be a servant, couldn’t read much.

Despite the issues of communication, Marvin proceeded with his questions. About eight days after the first breakfast tray delivery, he got tired of Jair continually ignoring the breakfast. That was perfectly good food going to waste. “Why do you even order the trays if you don’t want to eat them?”

Jair looked up, a bit surprised to be asked this while the two of them were in the middle of a game of Fidchell. He indicated himself, then shook his head.

“You...you mean you’re not the one ordering them?” Marvin asked, confused.

Jair nodded, confirming this, and looked back down at the board, moving a piece.

“Wh—how’d you do that?!” Marvin spluttered, momentarily distracted. “I was going to move one of the warriors there—you just cut off my path!” He scanned the board. “How did you surround my king again?!”

Jair laughed silently, a breathy sound, clapping his hands in delight at winning another game.

Marvin scowled. Draco promptly jumped onto the sofa and knocked over the board, scattering the pieces. “Yea, take down that game. I’m shit at it, apparently.” He sighed, and grabbed the cat, moving him to the side. “Who’s ordering the breakfast trays, then? Can you tell them to stop? It’s enough work as it is.”

Shaking his head, Jair pointed at Marvin.

“I could find some other way to get up here.” Marvin paused, noticing Jair’s slightly uncomfortable look on his face as he went about collecting the knocked-over game pieces. “Can you...not tell them to stop?” He thought about it for a moment. “It must be someone higher ranking than you, then. That would make sense, and it would explain why they always said someone important ordered the trays. Heh. Is it the King?”

Marvin asked the question jokingly, but for a moment, Jair’s shoulders stiffened. Then he brushed off the question, laughing without sound again.

That...couldn’t be right, could it? Why would the King go out of his way to order breakfast for some random noble? And one related to the Jairsolas family, which he destroyed? It didn’t make sense. There must be some sort of lie or trickery involved. Maybe it wasn’t actually the King. Or the King didn’t know Jair’s true identity. Or Jair didn’t know what happened to the rest of the family. Something like that.

Either way, Jair was quickly putting away the Fidchell pieces and board, clearly wanting to move on. So Marvin dropped the subject for the day.

But he still needed information. The King was somewhere in the castle. Other servants had caught glimpses of him, but Marvin still hadn’t figured out where he was staying, or run into him at all. Longest Night was approaching. He was running out of time. So, he decided to ask Jair a few more questions.

“Have you seen the King around?” he asked one day over a game of Saelan checkers. “Apparently he’s in the castle for the celebration, but I haven’t seen the tail of him. Others have, though. What bad luck, huh?”

Just like the last time he brought the King up, Jair stiffened, and immediately denied anything with a shake of his head. He pointed to the board.

“Right.” Marvin moved one of the small stone balls that served as pieces, getting closer to the end goal at the other side of the board. He wasn’t too good at board games, preferring cards, but he was better at this than he was at Fidchell. “I suppose I shouldn’t assume you’d know, anyway. I was just curious. I’ve never seen him. Does he really have green eyes?”

Jair nodded, distracted by planning out his next move.

“It’s strange that none of us know what room he’s staying in. That’s why I assumed he was staying here, ha.” Marvin watched Jair’s face as he continued to talk. “Is he even staying on the castle grounds? I know it’s traditional and all, but I don’t know if anyone would stop him.”

Jair shrugged. This time, his response didn’t seem like avoiding the question, but genuinely not knowing.

“Do you...I’ve never seen you out in the castle,” Marvin realized. “Do you stay in these rooms the whole time?”

Squirming, Jair didn’t answer, instead focusing on jumping one of his pieces over two of Marvin’s, capturing the last one.

“That’s not good for you. Staying in all the time, I mean. Especially when you don’t have a fireplace here. And it looks like an old room, you’re probably breathing in dust all the time. You don’t have to go out and make conversation with others, or even go outside, but just walk around. Do you even go to the main hall for dinner?”

Jair leaned back and looked away, folding his arms.

“Oh. Sorry, I...didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Marvin said. “I was just...worried, I suppose. You don’t eat breakfast, you don’t go out, you don’t have a fireplace...it’s just...worrying. I’m...worried about...your health.”

Despite the clumsiness of Marvin’s statements, Jair looked touched. He patted Marvin’s hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“If you’re sure you’re alright,” Marvin said reluctantly. “Try to take care of yourself, though.”

Jair placed his hand over his heart, suddenly emotional. He nodded, smiling. 

Had...no one ever said anything like that to him before? Had no one looked after him? Marvin felt something stirring deep inside his chest. A familiar ache. He’d...he’d never someone he could...well...relate to.

Marvin was supposed to ask more about the King, but he found he couldn’t go through with it today. He would try again tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next day, Marvin arrived at the tower room a bit later than usual. It took them a bit longer to cook it today, since there was more food than the previous times. He hoped that meant Jair was planning to actually eat it, and not just feed pieces of sausage to Draco the whole time.

He knocked on the door, waited for a few moments for Jair to open, but when he didn’t appear, Marvin pulled open the door himself and walked inside. Huh. Jair wasn’t actually in the room. The bedroom and bathroom doors were closed, so maybe he was doing something in there. “Hello? I’m here,” Marvin called as he set the tray down on the desk. Something brushed against his legs, and he looked down to see Draco curling around his legs. “Hmm? What’s wrong?” Draco didn’t usually stick close to legs, not after too many occasions of people suddenly moving and tripping over him. And his tail was standing straight up, the fur all puffed out.

At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Jair walked out. He waved at Marvin the moment he saw him.

“Tthere you are. I was wondering why you didn’t open the door.” Marvin glanced back down at Draco, still on edge, then back up. “Is everything alright?”

Jair nodded, waving away the question. He then walked straight over to the desk and started rummaging around the drawers, pausing for a moment to gesture at Marvin.

“Oh, I don’t want to do anything specific today. Maybe more cards?”

Nodding again, Jair pulled out one of the decks. While he walked over to the sofa and began shuffling, Marvin glanced around the room once more. Nothing looked out of place...what had Draco so spooked? He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, looking out the glass at the scenery. Clear skies ahead. On the ground below, there were...a lot of people in the surrounding open-air keep. More than he saw on the way over to the tower. That wasn’t too unusual, though. So Marvin closed the curtains again. “What were you doing?” he asked Jair.

Jair looked up at him, confused.

“I mean, you’re usually waiting for me. What was different this time?”

There was a slight pause. Then Jair shrugged. He pulled on the ends of his neck bow, tightening it, and followed it up with a so-so gesture.

“I don’t understand, what do you mean? Something about getting dressed?” Marvin asked. This whole thing felt...odd. Why did it feel odd? Was it just because Draco was still clinging to his legs?

Actually, Draco wasn’t just staying close to his legs. He was also staring at something, ears flat, a warning growl low in his throat. Marvin followed his line of sight...to the door they’d just come through. And...now that he wasn’t speaking, he could hear something underneath the sounds of shuffling cards. Faint, but growing louder.

Footsteps coming up the stairs.

Now why would someone be coming up the stairs? The only thing in the central tower were guest rooms. But most rooms were farther below, and the steps were definitely close enough to be heard. Meaning...someone was coming to this room. Why? Jair wasn’t exactly sociable. It could’ve been Ursula coming to get Marvin for chores, but...Marvin grabbed his amulet through his shirt, and his eyes lit up the smallest amount. No, he could sense more than one living person approaching. Quite a lot more, actually.

“Can I use your lavatory?” Marvin asked. He didn’t wait for Jair to nod before heading over and disappearing inside, closing the door behind him.

Just in time for the room’s entrance door to open, and for all those living people to fill the room. Accompanying the footsteps he’d heard before was the faint sound of metallic clanking, like...like chainmail. Or weapons.

Panic flooded Marvin’s mind. They’d discovered him, hadn’t they?! He had to get out of here! There was a small window in the bathroom, maybe just barely big enough to squeeze through. It was quite a drop to the keep below, but better than nothing. Marvin tried to break the glass with his fist, but only managed to crack it, so he pulled his amulet out and began to focus.

“Open up! We know you’re in there, traitor!” Bang bang bang bang bang!

“Damn!” Marvin cursed. They were knocking on the bathroom door. He didn’t have time to break the window, he needed to go through them! He whirled around—

The bathroom door slammed open, revealing three warriors wearing tunics with the royal crest. Marvin grabbed his now-glowing amulet and made a throwing motion. Light flung from his hands, hardening to stone as it hurled through the air, and three good-sized rocks hit each warrior in the chest, knocking them down. Marvin immediately bolted.

The small room was packed with other warriors, as well. Many were blocking his way to the door, armed with broad-bladed swords. Marvin threw more light to either side of him, and the warriors yelled as they tried to get out of the way of the suddenly-appearing rocks. For the ones in front, he pulled more glow from the amulet, forming it into a long, thin whip made entirely of green flame. He swung it around and many of the warriors scattered. Two stood their ground, acting quickly to pull circular shields from their backs and block the magic fire. But then Marvin was in front of them, his hands ablaze with more flame.

And then pain wrapped around his torso.

He looked down just long enough to register the black thorny vines wrapped across his chest before suddenly being yanked backwards. Pulled off his feet, he landed on his back and was dragged across the floor for some distance before suddenly stopping. He looked up and saw a face looking down at him. Unnaturally blue eyes. Pale blonde hair, stylishly curled around her face. And a few smattering of freckles, almost disappearing beneath a light layer of cosmetics. She looked as surprised to see him as he felt seeing her. “Marvin,” she said.

“Thalia,” Marvin scowled.

“I didn’t think it would be you. They said the servant’s name was Westley. Unless—you lied, didn’t you? Like you always do.”

“You’ve always been the liar.”

“No I haven’t. I’m always honest with everyone.”

“Nope. I know you haven’t told anyone about those secret visits to the mountains, have you?” Marvin laughed at Thalia’s surprised expression. “That was hard to find out, but I immediately recognized your handiwork. Burning the stone? Really? Talk about excessive.”

“Shut up,” Thalia snapped. She reached up and touched a silver-and-ruby broach pinned on her tunic. Her focus. Her eyes lit up. “I’m the one in charge now.”

“No you’re not.” Marvin grabbed his own focus, flicking the light from it up into her face. Thalia yelped as the glow turned into liquid and went into her eyes, and she lost concentration on the vine spell. Marvin shot up and looked around the room again. Now counting, there were ten warriors. One of them was holding his cat-shaped mask. Damn it! They went through his belongings and found it. He could have left it behind, but he brought it in case something happened and he needed it. Clearly that hadn’t been worth the risk.

All of the warriors were strategically blocking his ways out. The window, the door out, the doors to the bathroom and Jair’s bedroom—

Wait, Jair?! Where was he?!

Marvin didn’t have to look far. Jair was sitting in the exact spot he’d last seen him. On the sofa, having not moved a finger since the warriors and Thalia entered. His eyes were fixed downward, his hands clutching the deck of cards tightly in his lap. Marvin blinked. “Jair, what are you—”

Fog suddenly filled the room, unnaturally quickly, blinding him in seconds. Marvin whirled around, lighting up his amulet to try and see through the mist. 

Dark figures lunged out of the fog and grabbed at him. Shouting, Marvin threw the light in a circle, turning it to green flame again. Several people cried out, and the fog lifted as the fire burned through it. Marvin saw the surrounding figures of the warriors, and then someone lunged at him from behind, wrapping legs around his and pulling his hair.

He yelped. “Thalia! Get off me!”

“No, give me that focus!” Thalia demanded, clawing at the chain around his neck.

“Die in freezing!” Marvin tried to grab his amulet, but that was a bit difficult while the chain was strangling him. He had to divert effort to giving himself room to breathe. “Who jumps on someone’s back?! You’re thirty years old!”

“You’re the one acting like a child! You stole that, I recognize it!”

“It was mine, too!”

After a few moments, the combination of struggling and the weight on his back caused Marvin to fall over, bringing Thalia down with him. The moment he was down, five of the ten warriors lunged forward, pinning him. He struggled, but there were just too many. Then Thalia pulled once more on the chain holding his amulet, and it broke. She backed away, holding the amulet upward in triumph.

Out of nowhere, there was a yowling sound. Thalia screamed as a streak of off-white fur ran at her and began clawing at her leg, tearing through her trousers while spitting and hissing. Instinctively, she kicked, and the ball of fur went flying across the room.

“Draco!” Marvin cried, managing to push free of the warriors for long enough to see his cat stand up again. “No! Get out of here!”

Draco wailed, then hissed, ready to attack despite being outnumbered by eleven tall humans.

“No! Out! Run!” Marvin’s magic was quickly fading without his amulet within reach, but he had to get Draco to safety. He looked Draco in the eyes from across the room. His flickered blue for a moment, and Draco’s eyes glowed for a second in the matching shade. Marvin sent the image of a safe place to go through the connection he had with his familiar, and followed it up with instructions on how to get there.

Reluctantly, Draco turned...then bolted, weaving in between the legs of the warriors in a sudden burst of speed. Once he reached the door, an unnatural wave of strength overcame him, and he pushed it open and disappeared. The warriors cried out, but Thalia called, “Let it go! It can’t do much!” She looked down at Marvin. “Really? A cat? Why not bond with something more useful, like a dog?”

“Fuck you!” Marvin shouted, and lunged at her.

Then a warrior brought the hilt of their sword down on the back of his head, and everything went black.

[out-of-jams]

Airplane Mode || Track 05: Moving On | jhs

Summary: Inspired by Love at First Touch by bagelswrites.

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate in time, they starve to death. 

So what happens when your soulmate is a world famous idol?

And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language?

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem Character

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: Language. 

Words written like this are spoken in Korean. 

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Eunjae glared at the screen displaying boarding times like it was responsible for all of her life problems. Though in this instance, it kind of was.

With water dripping down her hand from the sweating plastic cup filled with coffee she held, Eunjae took a deep breath to stop herself from getting arrested by security for assaulting airport property. She’d already gotten lost multiple times in the obnoxiously large airport. And then once she finally found her gate to check in, the staff working at the desk politely informed her that the flight to Seoul was completely full. Therefore she would need to check her carry-on suitcase in with the rest of her bags because there wouldn't "be enough room in the overhead compartment."

Eunjae had been so tired up to that point, from the emotional farewell with her best friend to the long lines and early hours of the morning. She’d never been an early riser. In fact, the only way to even get her out of bed before eleven was if you bribed her with caffeine. And seeing as how her flight was supposed to leave at 6:54 am, she’d been wandering around half-awake like a zombie. After Eunjae'd gotten turned around in the airport for the third time, she finally caved and bought a ridiculously expensive iced coffee. Even though the side effects of First Touch turned the normally delicious drink into trash.

Taking another sip out of her rapidly draining cup, Eunjae tried not to grimace at the taste. If she was being completely honest, it tasted like she licked the walls of a dirty alleyway. But caffeine was caffeine and she would at least try to drink it while she could still stomach food. With a sigh, Eunjae slipped her vibrating phone out of the back pocket of her pants to read over the latest text from Hoseok. She’d sent a message off to him once she passed through security check to let him know that she would be on her way soon.

Well, she would have been.

Green straw pressed between her lips, Eunjae’s freshly manicured fingers flew across the keyboard. She wasn’t one to get her nails done routinely, since it would just get ruined when she worked on a new clothing piece. But Miles had forced her into getting a mani-pedi with him. Something about not letting her meet Bangtan with busted nails or whatever, but he’d volunteered to pay so she’d acquiesced.

A ding alerted her to a new text and she sent off a reply as she reluctantly trudged her way back to her gate.

Eunjae’s stupid flight had gotten delayed by almost six hours because of some storm raging in the middle of the ocean. She didn’t know if she was more angry at the fact that she now had so much time to fill, or that she could have still been asleep.

What the hell am I supposed to do for that long? She thought angrily as she slipped her phone back in her pocket. Hiding her glare behind the protective lenses of her sunglasses, she grumbled to herself.

Six hours and almost a season of Parks and Rec later, the call for her flight to start boarding came over the loudspeaker. WIth a final glance at the blank notification screen of her phone, Eunjae gathered her red mini backpack and boarded the plane. Hoseok had yet to respond to her last message, so she just assumed that he was super busy with his schedule for the day.

Settling into her roomy seat on the giant plane, Eunjae silently thanked Big Hit for getting her a first class ticket on a non-stop flight. Her seat was separated from the one next to her by a wall that rose over the top of her head. There was a small table right underneath the movie screen in front of her and she dropped her backpack on it before reclining in her chair.

As the flight attendant at the front of the plane began to read off safety instructions, Eunjae leaned her head back against the headrest and hoped that she’d at least be able to get some sleep.

With dark red nails tapping impatiently on the countertop of the help desk, Eunjae watched through tired eyes as the staff member manning it clicked away at her computer. The rest of the baggage claim was completely devoid of people and the notes of some slow song playing over the loudspeaker echoed hauntingly.

Eyes hooded with exhaustion, Eunjae spared a quick glance out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the wall in baggage claim. It was too dark to see anything properly so her hunched over reflection greeted her through the glass. With a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and straightened the hem of her cut-off black hoodie. The material fell right underneath her bellybutton and the top of her black joggers prevented any chance of seeing skin. Eunjae toed the tile floor with the tip of her white, platform Puma sneakers and sighed.

The bad luck of the day (days?) was apparently never ending. After falling into a weird, fever like sleep on the plane where she woke up confusedly every hour, Eunjae was greeted after landing in Incheon International Airport by the news of the airline losing her bags. It was almost three in the morning and she couldn’t even call Sejin to let him know the issue since her American phone didn’t operate in South Korea. The man was probably wondering where the hell she was.

“Ah,” the voice of the female staff member drew Eunjae’s attention. The middle aged woman looked up from her computer with an apologetic smile. “Your bags are currently in Beijing.”

Eunjae could only respond with a slow blink as her tired brain tried to process the information. She’d been lucky that the woman at the counter could speak English. She didn’t even want to imagine how the conversation would go with a round of charades.

“Beijing?” She parroted back stupidly. Her voice was still a little groggy from her attempt at sleep.

“Yes.” The woman bobbed her head, her brunette hair brushing her shoulders with the motion. “We are terribly sorry for the inconvenience."

Eunjae just nodded slowly. “When can they get here?”

“In about three days or so. If you write down the address of where you’re staying, we could have them send your belongings straight to you.”

Eunjae filled out the slip of paper robotically, pen jotting down her new address quickly. Luckily she’d memorized it from the amount of times she’d had to write it down on boxes to ship out. None of those boxes, unfortunately, carried any of her clothes. Eunjae hadn’t sent any out until two days ago. The rest of her clothing was in the bags lost somewhere in Beijing.

She silently cursed her past self for being so stupid. But she’d needed clothes to wear back at home, damnit!

The rest of the interaction passed by in a blur and Eunjae walked out of baggage claim with only her mini backpack and a copy of the form she filled out. Luckily, the signs in the airport were labeled in both Engilsh and Korean, so she had no trouble finding her way out.

As she went through the empty queue at immigration and rode the escalator down to the main floor and entrance, Eunjae gently slapped her cheeks to wake herself up. She’d been on the receiving end of one too many stares on the journey and couldn’t wait for the bruises to heal. Stepping off at the ground floor, Eunjae immediately spotted Sejin pacing back and forth near the escalators. His hands were stuffed deep in the pockets of his thick brown coat and a white face mask was pulled down to his chin. Eunjae shifted her backpack higher on her shoulder and cleared her throat.

“Hey.” She didn’t need to raise her voice since the airport was empty anyway.

Sejin’s head snapped up from where he’d been staring intently at his shoes, and a look of relief twisted his features. Stepping closer, his tense shoulders relaxed. “You’re here. I was starting to worry.”

“Yeah, sorry about the wait.” A large yawn interrupted Eunjae mid sentence and she covered her mouth with a sweater paw. “They lost my bags.”

“Ah.” Sejin frowned. “How long until they ship them to you?”

Eunjae waved the flimsy paper in her hands, the edges fluttering with the movement. “Three days. So please excuse my homeless-chic appearance until then. What I’m wearing is all I have.”

Sejin shook his head and gestured for her to follow him to the door. “We’d initially planned for you to meet Bang PD-nim and the rest of the members tomorrow morning--well now this morning. But we can arrange for someone to take you shopping first.”

The automatic doors swished open and Eunjae frowned at the cold wind that bit across her cheeks. Hands shoving into the pouch of her hoodie, she looked around the empty passenger pick-up area. The bright lights from inside the airport’s floor-to-ceiling windows gave them plenty of light to see by as she followed the man down the wide pathway.

“I don’t really have a lot of money to spend on clothes.” Eunjae’s words puffed a white cloud into the winter air. Unfortunately for her, it was just as cold in Korea as it was in New York. She could already feel her cheeks starting to freeze.

Sejin sent her a weird look as they crossed the empty street towards an even more deserted part of the pick-up zone. Eunjae could just barely make out a parked van through the darkness. “You wouldn’t be paying.”

Eunjae snorted in amusement through her slowly reddening nose and joked, “less than an hour here and you’re already planning a robbery on some poor clothing store. Shaking my head, Sejin. You’re a bad influence.”

The lack of sleep was beginning to get to her.

Rolling his eyes in good humor, Sejin gave a fake, put-upon sigh. “You’re going to fit in with the boys great.”

She simply raised an eyebrow at him and watched as he slid a keyring out of the pocket of his jeans. The van was close and Eunjae picked up her pace a little at the thought of gaining solace from the freezing wind. Her short legs had to work almost double time to keep up with tall Sejin.

“Like I said before,” he began, clicking a button on the keyring to unlock the vehicle; its lights flashed twice. “Big Hit will cover all of your expenses while you're here. That includes anything and everything you might need.”

Eunjae grimaced. She really didn’t like the thought of being dependant on someone for so long. Even if that someone was a millionaire like Bang PD. “I don’t want to just be given things without working for it. That doesn't sit right with me.”

The tall man paused in his steps, causing her to stop as well. Staring down at her seriously, he held the keys in his hand tighter. “You’ve just moved out here to a completely different country; you’ve given up a lot and we recognize that. So let us at least try and make up for it.”

All Eunjae could do was blink at his statement. Sejin patted her shoulder twice and stepped off again leaving Eunjae with no choice but to follow in silence. They were at the van now and she stepped up next to Sejin as he slid the backdoor open for her. Why he didn’t want her to sit in the passenger seat, she had no idea. But the question answered itself as soon she slid inside and the door closed behind her.

Leaning against the opposite door of the row’s seats sat Jung Hoseok. The hood of his chalk grey coat was pulled up over his dark, wavy hair and a small gold chain hid beneath his neckline. With the silver zipper pulled halfway down his chest, the soft cotton of his charcoal covered shirt stretched across his chest. Hoseok had on his own pair of black joggers and Eunjae silently wondered if always accidently matching clothes was a soulmate thing, or if they just had the same taste in fashion.

The second the door closed, Hoseok pulled down the black face mask covering the bottom half of his face and gave her a smile so big that the tiny dimples on his cherub cheeks popped into existence. His dark eyes turned into adorable half moons as he spread his arms wide open with flapping hands. “You’re here!”

Eunjae just about died on the spot. From the scent of his masculine cologne in the air, to the sudden warmth of escaping the biting wind, to his cute accented voice. Her tired brain was beginning to short circuit from all of the input.

Returning his smile with one of her own, she responded, “I’m here.”

As she slid the backpack from her shoulders, Hoseok tilted his head to the side in confusion and sent a glance back towards the still empty trunk of the van. Turning back to her, he waved a hand at the backpack between her feet.

“No more?” His brows pinched together in bewilderment.

The driver side door opened then, and Sejin slipped inside and started the van quickly, likely wanting to warm up just as much as she did. The car rumbled to life and the vents perched on the ceiling of the vehicle flooded the space with lukewarm air.

Shaking her head at Hoseok’s question, Eunjae answered him as the automatic door lights shut off and plunged them all in darkness. A soft glow from the center console at the front cast his face in shadow as Sejin finally pulled away from the curb. “My bags are somewhere in Beijing right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened comically as he seemed to grasp the gist of what she was saying. He leaned closer and Eunjae had to almost physically stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Soulmate or not, they were still strangers and Eunjae wasn’t comfortable enough with him to invade his personal space. So no matter how much his body called out to hers, how much the blood in her veins sang out for him, she shoved the feeling of longing deep into the recesses of her mind.

“What? Why?”

Eunjae had never been so grateful for her ability to retain information that she crammed into her brain last minute as she easily translated Hoseok’s Korean. Miles had been giving her random pop quizzes at all times of the day to try and help. Even though he had no idea what he was saying and ended up pronouncing half of the words wrong anyway. Scrunching her nose in thought, Eunjae pulled up the virtual dictionary floating through her exhausted brain. She didn’t know a lot of Korean vocabulary and the rules of sentence structure confused the hell out of her. So she wasn’t confident in how coherent her response was.

“They lost them.”

Eunjae wasn’t sure if Hoseok’s reaction was because of what she said or the fact that she’d spoken it in his language. Heart shaped lips spreading into another smile, his long fingers came up to frame either side of his face. “Your Korean is good!”

“Ah, I don’t know a lot.” A pout formed unconsciously on her face as she shrugged non-committedly.

“Still.” Hoseok beamed. One of his hands moved as if he were going to touch her before he seemingly thought better of it and dropped it on the seat between them.

A few beats of silence overtook the car that hovered over the soft music playing from the speakers. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was the kind of silence that reared its head when two people didn’t know what else to say. Maybe it was because they were both tired, or perhaps it stemmed from the fact that they barely spoke each other’s language. But the invisible barrier between them appeared more solid without the ability to communicate via texted emoji.

“We still have a long drive ahead of us.” Sejin finally broke through the quiet from up front. “If the two of you want to get some rest, now would probably be a good time. Today’s schedule starts early.”

He repeated his suggestion in Korean so that Hoseok could understand and Eunjae felt her fatigued body scream out at the thought of another early morning. She instantly felt guilty, however, as she glanced over at Hoseok. Even in the lack of light she could see how worn out he was, even though he was trying his best to scrape up whatever energy he could find for her. The fact that he’d even chose to come pick her up when he could have been sleeping spoke about what kind of person he was.

Whatever exhaustion she was feeling after a day and a half didn’t even hold a candle to the years that he’d felt the same way. With a frown pulling at her lips, Eunjae slowly reached out to gently pat the hand lying on the seat between them. She tried to ignore the instantaneous reaction as the electrifying energy buzzing between their skin warmed her veins. Hoseok’s hand twitched under hers and Eunjae had to stop herself from curling her small fingers around his longer ones. It wasn’t in a romantic sense. Her body was just reacting to whatever science it was that drew soulmates together, so not all of her reactions were completely in her control.

“Sleep.”

Hoseok’s tired eyes peered at her through the dark as he sent her a grateful smile. He flipped the palm of his hand over to softly squeeze hers and Eunjae was almost surprised when the static the gesture sent through her wasn’t visible in the air between them.

“You too.”

As the van drove down the virtually empty highway, a strip of light from the streetlamps lining the road flashed through the tinted windows of the van. Hoseok’s eyes were already closed, his long eyelashes brushing against the apples of his cheeks. How he’d managed to fall asleep so fast, Eunjae didn’t know. But what she did know, was that his hand was still holding onto hers in the warmth of the voiceless, dark car.

The sound of a car door shutting forced Eunjae’s eyes open. It was either that, or the sudden rush of cold air brushing against her skin. When her eyes had fallen shut in the first place, she wasn’t sure. But as the overhead car lights flickered off, they drifted closed again. The comfortable heat pressing against her side threatened to drag her back into unconsciousness.

And it would have if the door to the backseat of the van hadn’t slid open. Eunjae groaned as the cold coaxed goosebumps from her covered flesh. The soft material her face was pressed into shifted as if sensing her annoyance. Stuck somewhere between the land of dreams and that of the conscious, Eunjae wasn’t sure if the warm breath that brushed the top of her head was real or not.

A light chuckle breached through the darkness of her closed eyelids. “Wake up you two. We’re here.”

The lights on the ceiling of the van were getting harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, the weight that she’d barely processed over her shoulders shifted as her pillow mumbled incoherently. The deep, sleep filled voice set off familiar bells in her head, and Eunjae peeled her eyes open with the speed of a sloth. It always took her at least twenty minutes after waking to fully fall into consciousness.

Her eyes blinked leisurely as her brain tried to process what was going on. The first thing she noticed was that she was confusedly on the other side of the car than the one she’d been sitting on. The next was that she’d somehow grown four legs, two of which were larger than hers. It could have taken her two minutes or two hours for her brain to process it, she wasn’t sure.

However, it wasn’t until she lifted her head from where it’d been comfortably pressed into Hoseok’s side that she finally came to the realization. Sometime, somehow, over the course of the drive her body had acted on its own accord and snuggled itself into his side. He had one arm thrown across her shoulders while his other hand sleepily rubbed through the wavy hair under his hood. Hoseok’s eyes were half lidded as his lips parted in a wide yawn. Both of their bodies, it seemed, had answered the other’s call while they were unconscious.

It be ‘ya own body. Eunjae thought half drunkenly, resisting the urge to ignore everything and go back to sleep. Turning her head to the side, she saw the light washed figure of Sejin standing at the open van door.

“You guys going to stay in there all night? Or are you going to come out?”

While she couldn’t make out his expression, Sejin sounded very amused. Eunjae knew enough Korean to be able to get the gist of what he’d said, or at least she hoped she did.

“Mmm. Yeah.” Hoseok grumbled, lifting the arm from around her shoulders to rub at his face. If he was at all phased by how he woke up, he didn’t show it. His voice was deeper than normal, vocal cords still coated with sleep.

Eunjae was still barely processing what was going on around her, but she was awake enough to slide across the seats and scoop up her bag. Sejin moved out of the way as she swung her legs out the door, pausing a moment to blink rapidly from the bright lights overhead. It appeared like they were in some underground parking garage. The frigid air pulled a small whimper from her throat as she hopped out. The garage wasn’t super huge and it looked like Sejin had pulled the van around to park in a darkened corner. By the way it was just pulled to the side and not in a parking space, Eunjae figured that this wasn’t his final destination.

At the sound of Hoseok’s shoes hitting the concrete behind her, Eunjae shuffled out of the way so that he wouldn’t fall over her as he got out. As he stretched his arms above his head, she quickly averted her eyes as the hem of both his coat and shirt raised to reveal a strip of golden skin.

God, what K-drama is this? Eunjae just barely resisted rolling her eyes at the universe. I think we’ve hit just about every cliche by now.

“I’ll show you to your apartment.” Sejin spoke, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty garage. Eunjae looked up at him and narrowed her eyes at the bags under his. The man looked completely and utterly drained. Like he was two blinks away from falling asleep standing up.

“Just tell me the code and how to get there, I’ll find it.” Stuffing her hands into her hoodie pouch, she rocked back and forth on her feet in an attempt at warming up. The winter air was slowly starting to shock her body into becoming more and more awake. “You look like you need some sleep too.”

Chuckling, Sejin ran a hand down his face. “I’m not going to have you wandering the halls. It won’t take long.”

Eunjae refused to back down, however. With a head jerk at a yawning Hoseok, who looked like he wasn’t even trying to follow the conversation, she asked, “does Hobi know the way?”

At the sound of his name, Hoseok turned from where he was closing the van door and shuffled over to them. Hunched against the cold, his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his now fully zipped coat.

“Yes.” Sejin admitted.

“And the door code?”

The taller man let out a deep sigh, his warm breath puffing into the air. “Yes.”

With a smile of victory brightening her sleepy face, Eunjae rocked back onto her heels with a nod. “Cool. Then he can show me, right? And you can go home and sleep?”

Sejin’s narrowed eyes lacked heat as he finally relinquished. “You’re stubborn. But fine.”

The man reluctantly translated for Hoseok, who’s lips twitched as he sent Eunjae what looked to be a thankful glance. His response went completely through one of Eunjae’s ears and out the other, his deep voice causing her tired eyes to fall shut momentarily. She was always a sucker for the groggy voices of men who were still half asleep and the sound made her yearn for her bed.

“Someone will come grab you in the morning to take you shopping for some clothes.” The statement was directed at Eunjae and she nodded in acknowledgement of Sejin’s words. With one last glance back at the pair, the taller man made his way back to the van and slipped inside.

The brush of Hoseok’s fingers against the middle of her back brought her attention back to him. With a nod towards the elevators in the middle of the garage, he let his hand drop. “This way.”

The ride up to the eighth floor passed in silence. It was more comfortable than the one in the car and it seemed that whatever skinship they shared in the van chipped away a little at the invisible barrier between them. It was still standing strong, but Eunjae didn’t feel quite as awkward as before. Maybe it was because she was half conscious, or perhaps it was because she’d been snuggled up to his side less than ten minutes ago. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to complain.

With a quiet ding the elevator doors slid open and Eunjae followed Hoseok as he walked straight down the hallway. The beige colored walls and carpeted floor passed them by and at the end of the hall was a T-shaped intersection. Hoseok peeled left, but slowed down as he pointed a thumb in the opposite direction.

“Bangtan’s that way.” Eunjae turned as she glanced at where he was pointing with a hum. He stopped a few feet down in front of a white door with the numbers 821 embedded in a small plaque above it. Hand fluttering at the door, Hoseok spoke again.

“This is you.” With a glance down at her, Hobi made sure that she was watching as he slid up the code panel and slowly typed in a five digit code. The light above the numbers flashed green and a gently beep sounded as he twisted down the handle. He pointed from the panel to her, and back and tilted his head with a small smile. “You understand?”

“Yeah.” If she was going to be on the receiving end of his eye smile every time she spoke Korean, then she was going to find herself fluent, and soon.

Hoseok stood in the doorway with his back propping the door open. He didn’t enter, seemingly not wanting to invade her space. As she brushed past him to step through the threshold, the soft call of her name caused her to turn back towards him mid-step.

“Call if you..,” He trailed off, lips pursed as he searched for the correct words. The hood had fallen off his head sometime from getting out of the car until now and Hoseok reached up a hand to run through his wavy locks.

“I will.” Eunjae smiled at him reassuringly and he sent her back a grateful smile. “Thank you, Hobi.”

Beaming at her once again, Hoseok reached out and gently ruffled the top of her head, unintentionally sending tingles running a path down her spine. “You’re welcome! See you tomorrow, okay? Goodnight.”

"Goodnight." Her voice followed him softly as the door closed behind him, taking both the scent of him and his warmth. Eunjae pressed her forehead against the cool wall closest to her. The apartment behind her was still shrouded in shadow as she sighed into the paint. Tomorrow she was going to meet both Bang PD-nim and the rest of the members of Bangtan.

“No biggie.” Her voice muttered sarcastically into the dark, silent apartment. “No biggie at all.”

[sussex-nature-lover]

Saturday 20th March 2021

Anniversary Week

As we started to hear about the global pandemic and to worry about how it was going to affect our daily lives, I had the idea to write a blog. Write about what you know I always hear and so my theme was what’s right on my doorstep. The very first entry I wrote, pre-Tumblr was on 20th March 2020 on Google sheets, but I soon decided I need to move to a different platform and so my first Tumblr Blog came about on 27th March 2020, which was a Friday.

Where has the time gone? We’ve missed all the birthdays, big anniversary, Mother’s Day (twice) and Father’s Day, Christmas with family and so on, so the big benefit of a nature blog is that rather than marking time by your own life events, the seasons are going to roll around come what may and that Spring is the period of hope and regeneration. We’re into Spring proper now as today’s the Vernal Equinox.

photo credit: Ms NW tE

Ms NW tE is definitely catching the gardening and nature bug and spent yesterday painting some pots. I’ve got my eye on that one in the middle, you can tell it’s my style as per these hiding behind Pedro.

My Mother’s Day Muscari are all flowering now

Finally, this morning I got up to some colour on my green sticks. Hoorah! Crow got up to a patient queue awaiting his breakfast café - all the girls (female Pheasants) were lined up in the shrubbery, anticipating a feast. They may have been having a long wait because I was awake at ten past four today, when Robin was singing. There wasn’t even the slightest sign of light either and I nodded off again.

photo credit: Ms NW tE

I also got this Parakeet picture sent from SE London, what a fantastic pose it is too.

The rose-ringed parakeet is sexually dimorphic. The adult male sports a red and black neck ring, and the hen and immature birds of both sexes either show no neck rings, or display shadow-like pale to dark grey neck rings. Both sexes have a distinctive green colour in the wild, and captive bred ringnecks have multiple colour mutations including blue, violet and yellow. Rose-ringed parakeets measure on average 40 cm (16 in) in length, including the tail feathers, a large portion of their total length. Their average single-wing length is about 15 to 17.5 cm (5.9 to 6.9 in). In the wild, this is a noisy species with an unmistakable squawking call.

Wikipedia

When you talk about noisy gardens and nuisance calls though, I think the Parakeet might be preferable to the Rooks’ and I can tell you they’re revving up big time now.

Rook (Dunnock behind)

GARDEN NOTES:

Yesterday I watched three Rabbits chasing each other around the bottom of the garden.  Last night I heard an Owl for the first time in a while and a few times today the Sparrow Hawk flew in and landed low in the shrubbery. One time the door was open and we both roared at the same time and off it went, but it’s been back since.

AROUND THE WORLD:

Volcano erupts in Iceland after tens of thousands of earthquakes and in Japan

An earthquake struck northern Japan generating a tsunami of one metre on Saturday.

The quake hit the coast of Miyagi Prefecture at 6.26pm (0926 GMT) and had a magnitude of 7.2 at a depth of 60km, the Japan Meteorological Agency said.

Tremors started just before 6:10 p.m and could be felt in Tokyo, about 400 km south of the epicentre.

The United States Geological Survey said the quake was centred 27 kilometres east of Ishinomaki at a depth of 60 kilometres, which is off the coast of the Miyagi prefecture - an area that was heavily damaged during the huge earthquake and tsunami of 2011.

The Standard

WHAT DID I LEARN TODAY?

I can’t quite believe this TV series with the gardener Monty Don, passed me by. It’s two years old and has 10 episodes visiting famous gardens all around the world - perfect for lockdown viewing.

Link at the BBC here.

Episode 9, which I haven’t seen yet, features Sissinghurst (National Trust) near to us.

Winter view from the top of the Tower at Sissinghurst. The famous White Garden is located between the two buildings, with the Orchard on our right

Spring at Sissinghurst

and if you can’t get the BBC i-player then episodes are on Daily Motion.

[highbuttonsports]

Toronto Blue Jays’ Joe Carter 1993 toronto blue jays world series champions - Bing images

Our Team

Take me out to the ball game. Take me out with the crowd. Buy me some…well maybe not this season (hopefully though). For some of us, snow is still on the ground and the cool air of winter is still biting our breathe. However, that doesn’t mean baseball isn’t still warming our hearts and our minds. A lot of Jays fans can easily relate to this sentiment, especially those of us that reside north of the border. As “Canada’s team”, there is a strong sense of pride associated with touting that moniker. Toronto is the only franchise in the MLB that has the distinction of being their country of residence’s only one. It really fosters an us against them mentality. It’s a David vs. Goliath thing. A little brother vs. big brother thing. A Superman vs. Batman thing. You get the point.

There’s a long-standing history of the Canada vs. U.S. rivalry rooted in sport. Every December/January brings about the World Junior Championships for hockey with each country perennially battling for the gold medal (the U.S. took it home this past tournament). International women’s hockey has predominantly been a Canada/U.S. fight for top spot since it’s inception. As well, the Olympics has provided many instances of our countries’ amazing rivalry. There was Canadian track star Donovan Bailey’s beating of American Dennis Mitchell in the 100m race at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta (in world record time no less). More recently, Canadian ice dance darlings Scott Moir and Tessa Virtue “got smoked” (Scott’s words) by U.S. rivals Meryl Davis and Charlie White at the 2014 games in Sochi. Then there is perhaps the best non-baseball example of this good-natured battle in the 2019 NBA Championship by the Toronto Raptors. That was the first NBA title to leave American soil and that wound is still fresh. In fact, many talking heads south of the border still refuse to give the Raps any credit for that win. The prefer to focus on all of Golden State’s excuses (classic sore loser behaviour). All of these are just a sample of the friendly yet heated rivalry that exists between our great nations.

When it comes to baseball that is no different. I am of a certain age to vividly remember everything about the Toronto Blue Jays’ historic rise to the top of the baseball world in 1992. It was the first time the World Series had been played outside of the U.S. in the history of the league. This is America’s past time we are talking about after all, so having a team from Canada trying to take that from them made it about more than just baseball. It’s not as if the Jays came out of nowhere though. They had won the American League Eastern Division title for the second consecutive season and third time in four years coming into the series. So, it was no fluke they were there threatening to take the title out of the U.S.A. for the first time ever. As well, Atlanta Braves brought that annoying swagger with them having lost in the World Series the previous year. They were hungry, a little cocky, and the favourites. After all, what were these guys playing out of a hockey country doing thinking they could be champions of the baseball world? Of course, this story could not be written without mentioning the Game 2 fiasco involving the Canadian flag. Before the game started, during the performance of the National Anthems of the United States and Canada, the U.S. Marine Corps Color Guard accidentally flew the flag of Canada upside down. It was an accident and the Marines went out of their way to apologize while insisting they were honoured to carry it ahead of game 3. That doesn’t mean it didn’t add some extra vitriol to an already contentious battle between the two countries. It perhaps may have even sparked the Jays, as after losing game 1 they went on to win games 2,3, and 4 to take a commanding 3-1 series lead. Atlanta wasn’t going to just lay down though as they fought back in game 5 winning convincingly 7-2. This set up a dramatic game 6 back in Atlanta in front of 51,000+ chanting and chopping Braves fans. If you were a Jays fan back then like me that brutal Atlanta tradition was like nails on a chalk board. Game 6 was a back-and-forth tight pitching duel with the Braves tying the game up in the bottom of the 9th to stave off elimination. After both teams failed to score in the 10th, the Jays jumped out to a 4-2 lead on a Dave Winfield double plating 2 runners. That was the legendary Winfield's first career World Series extra-base hit, and at 41 he was the oldest player in baseball history to record one in the World Series. Atlanta caught a break in the bottom of the inning on a fortunate mid hop bounce to short, turning a sure double play into a 1st and 3rd with nobody out situation. After a sac bunt made it 2nd and 3rd with 1 out, a forced play at 1st on a ground ball scored a run reducing the Jays lead to 1. It was that moment that Atlanta announced the speedy Otis Nixon as a pinch hitter. He was one of the fastest players in the league and a fantastic bunter. Knowing this, Toronto countered with bringing in a right-handed pitcher. It is much easier for a righty to field of bunt towards 1st base since they fall off the mound naturally in that direction. Even though a bunt is not very common with a runner at 3rd and 2 out, with Nixon at the plate it was a big possibility. That’s exactly what happened too. Otis bunted, Timlin fielded the ball perfectly, and dished it to Carter at 1st for the final out. That secured the 1st World Series title in Blue Jays franchise history as well as the 1st title to leave the USA.

If that didn’t rile up American baseball aficionados enough, they definitely didn’t get any happier the following year. 1993 brought the Blue Jays back to the World Series to defend their title against the Philadelphia Phillies. This time Toronto meant business and they were the favourites. It was up to Philly to unseat the champs, but the Jays weren’t having any of that notion. They won game 1 of this go around to put themselves in the driver’s seat. The Phillies tied the series at 1-1 by winning game 2, but that was as close as they would get going forward. Even though they fought back with a shut out in game 5 to force another game, it was the battle tested Jays who finished the series off in epic fashion in game 6. This moment is engrained in all Canadians, not just baseball fans. As iconic as the Golden goal which says a lot for a bunch a hockey loving hosers. Just thinking about it again gives me goose bumps. Our boys were down 6-5 going into the bottom of the 9th with feared closer Mitch “Wild Thing” Williams coming into the game to try and push it to a deciding game 7. To say it started out terribly for him is an understatement. He walked future hall of famer (and still holder of the record for most stolen bases all time) Rickey Henderson to begin the inning. That put the heat on him to get the ball to the plate as quick as possible. In order to do that, Mitch used the slide step method. He had never used that move before in his career, but with the uber dangerous Henderson at first, he couldn’t risk giving up a stolen base. That caused him to be out of sync in his delivery and resulted in diminished velocity and control. After the next batter flew out, another future hall of famer in Paul Molitor singled to put runners on 1st and 2nd with 1 out and Joe Carter coming to the dish. Queue the music everyone! That’s when Joe hooked a 2-2 pitch over the left corner wall for a back-to-back World Series winning 3-run homerun and forever immortalizing himself in baseball lore.

It doesn’t get much sweeter than that in sport. What makes those moments even bigger is the connotations of national pride and excellence. It’s no secret that the U.S. has a great reputation of success when it comes to sport. The country houses 4 of the 5 highest grossing sports leagues in the world while having a stranglehold on the media coverage. They are usually the favourites and have the hardware to back that up. That’s why whenever us simple snow-covered folks (up here North of the world’s longest unprotected border) have a chance to wave our flag or sing our Anthem in victory, we do it proudly and loudly. It’s what we hope to be doing later this fall when the 2021 Jays take the field with the highest hopes they have had in years. Not since a certain bat flip 6 years ago perhaps. But we don’t need to go there…do we?

By: Jaymee Kitchenham

[freenewstoday]

New Post has been published on https://freenews.today/2021/02/20/texas-weather-southern-us-cities-now-face-water-crisis-after-deadly-winter-storm/

Texas weather: Southern US cities now face water crisis after deadly winter storm

Millions of people in parts of the southern US are having to boil water before drinking it as burst pipes caused by record low temperatures may have contaminated the water supply.

In Texas, seven million people – a quarter of the population of the nation’s second-largest state – were under orders to boil tap water because low water pressure could have allowed bacteria to seep into the system.

Ruptured pipes also shut down the Memphis airport on Friday and left hospitals struggling to maintain sanitary conditions.

Image: People in Austin queueing to enter a supermarket. Pic: AP

A man died at an Abilene health care facility when a lack of water pressure made medical treatment impossible.

US President Joe Biden said on Friday he will declare a major disaster in Texas, the Associated Press said, having already issued a state of emergency there, as well as in Oklahoma and Louisiana.

Mr Biden has asked federal agencies to identify additional resources to address the suffering and has said he hopes to travel to Texas next week, but doesn’t want his presence to distract from recovery efforts.

Image: Cars line up to receive free cases of water in Houston, after the city issued a boil water advisory following record winter storms

Dozens of generators and supplies, including fuel, water, blankets and ready-to-eat meals, have been shipped to the affected areas by the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

In the county surrounding Memphis, water main ruptures and pumping station problems left about 260,000 homes and businesses also boiling water.

Restaurants that cannot follow suit or do not have bottled water were ordered to close.

In Jackson, Mississippi, most of the city of about 161,000 had no running water.

Crews pumped water to refill city tanks but faced a shortage of chemicals for treatment because icy roads made it difficult for distributors to deliver them, Mayor Chokwe Antar Lumumba said.

The city’s water mains are more than 100 years old, Mr Lumumba said, and not built to handle the freezing weather.

The water woes were the latest misery for people across the South who went without heat or electricity for days after the ice and snow storms earlier in the week, forcing rolling blackouts from Minnesota to Texas.

Historic snowfall and single-digit temperatures created a surge in demand for electricity to warm up homes – buckling the state’s power grid and causing the widespread blackouts.

Of the three million Texans left without power, “millions” have since had it restored, NBC said.

Please use Chrome browser for a more accessible video player

Texas senator sorry for storm trip

The extreme weather was blamed for the deaths of at least 69 people, including many who perished struggling to get warm and a Tennessee farmer who tried to save two calves that apparently wandered onto a frozen pond.

Texas senator Ted Cruz came under fire amid the crisis after he flew to Mexico with his family while the state he represents dealt with power outages and water supply issues due to the freezing temperatures.

Source

[peter-horrocks]

Cool holiday in the mountains

It was with a degree of pessimism that we set off for our family holiday get together in the high French Alps at the beginning of August. Mainly because I was only used to ski resorts in the winter and because here in the southern alps its quite hot and there are no end of beasties wanting to bite you, which is OK for a days walk but staying a week is another matter. And we had a load of young kids with us. What on earth were they going to do in a ski resort in the summer, it would be dead wouldn’t it?

“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame.”

William Butler Yeats, The Land of Heart's Desire

Snow on the tops in Val Thorens

Like many we had already endured our fair share of rescheduled flights and cancellations with money lost or placed on credit and being the wrong side of 60 we had lost the appetite for flying as the risks no longer seem sensible. But being stuck in France has its advantages, it is a country with so much to offer, there is such variety, the choice is huge. The only obvious thing is that this summer was no time to be crammed with the masses as the risk of getting contaminated with Covid was glaringly obvious and if we could escape the extreme July/August heat that would be even better.

So when my wife’s elder daughter announced that she had an option to reserve a chalet in Les Menuires, a ski resort at 1850 metres altitude in the Three Valleys, at a very reasonable price, on three floors with easily enough room for ten of us, we felt there was little to loose even if it got cancelled as it was within reasonable driving distance for everyone.

I struggled to get excited as I had been to Les Menuires with work many years ago and my memories were of a rather ugly purpose-built resort with “motorway” skiing. I’d also spent a few weeks in the high Alps chalet hunting in Spring, cold and wet were the main memories retained. The chances of rain in the high Alps is always a distinct possibility. I set about researching what was open in the resort and soon realized that with the Covid restrictions things like indoor swimming pools and cinemas were all closed. All I could latch on to was an outdoor basketball pitch. So, I bought basketballs adapted in size for very small and average size children and a couple of kites in a desperate attempt at offering at least some sort of outdoor diversion for the young.

It was really hot when we set off early from Grasse up the route Napoleon and it got hotter as the day progressed. Being away from the main motorways on one of the busiest days of the summer was ideal as even the service areas near Grenoble were not too busy so we felt safe from Covid crowds. It is frequently surprisingly hot in the low French alpine valleys in summer and the air conditioning in the car was doing overtime with temperatures close to 40 degrees centigrade. So we were elated to watch the thermostat drop progressively as we started the climb uphill from Moutiers for the last half an hour of the journey to Les Menuires. When it hit 26º we cut the air conditioning and cheered, when it hit 20º we opened the car windows and releveled in the sensation of the breeze in our hair. The drive up was lovely, the mountains verdant, much more beautiful than I expected. 

When we arrived in Les Menuires it bore little resemblance to the soulless resort I remembered. There was a very modern rather smart church tower with a clarion belfry and a kind of trendy, with-it feel about the place. Sunny and with wonderful fresh air though it was still shorts and t shirts weather, and there were plenty of people around, it was far from dead, but not too busy either. Cool! From my days looking after the websites and holiday sales for the ski programs for various companies in the past I had always been disappointed to see empty chalets and apartments at “give-away” prices from May to October, when they were full at “daylight robbery” prices during the winter. Whilst on the coast people were paying through the nose to be crammed on beaches like sardines burning red raw despite lashings of Ambre Solaire. Strange how it took an epidemic to literally drive some family holidaymakers to the high mountains who would never normally have gone there, including us. 

My wife’s daughters, a husband and the five children aged from one to eleven were already there when we arrived. The twin boys were laughing as they peddled their hired go-karts and the two elder kids were in the queue for the outdoor trampolines with catapult elastics, whilst the adults were sat on the outdoor terrace of a cafe enjoying a drink looking out on the mountains, everyone looked happy to be there. And they were. 

We quickly realized Les Menuires was a hive of pleasant outdoor activity, with something for everyone. You could hire all sorts of electric bikes, scooters, 4-wheel drive vehicles and the gondola lifts were running to take you up to the tops if you wished. Morning and evening outdoor fitness classes with suitable high-tempo music blasting out was another surprising though rather fun to watch option. There was an outdoor archery range, paintball, mountain bike tracks and infinite walks for all grades and even an impressive toboggan track on rails which had the kids begging for more. 

In the mornings we strolled down the hillside from our chalet’s hamlet and enjoyed relaxed games of five-a-side football and basketball mixing with holiday makers kids and parents from Paris and Lyon. Then we joined up with the ladies and the smaller children for picnics by the crystal-clear river which was cold but not enough to deter the children from getting stuck in building dams and playing around in the water. All in a suberb setting with lovely walks by the river, where pretty, ancient farm buildings were set beautifully in the heart of the high valley surrounded by stunning summits topped by snow up at Val Thorens. Clear blue skies and warm sunshine, it was perfect.  

The kids having fun making dams in the river

Back in the chalet in the evenings the kids hoovered up “l’apéro” crisps and drinks whilst the adults kicked back with a glass of wine, the music came on and everyone ended up dancing around even the smallest who only recently took to standing was grooving with the rhythm. I assisted my son in law cooking up a “tartiflette” using local mountain potatoes and Reblochon cheese from the in-resort “fromagerie” and that set the standard for a week of delicious mountain cuisine. The spa at the hamlet opened its sauna and hot tub for small group reservations which allowed the parents some relaxing downtime whist we looked after the youngsters who spent hours playing hide and seek in the chalet. The week flew by.

I took the time one evening to walk up high and sit quietly, watching the small video clip taken by my sister that same day, in Wales, of the scattering of the ashes of my elder brother who died naturally in South Africa recently. Covid circumstances prevented me from attending what was already an improvised occasion. 

My brother Martin loved to hike in the high mountains, and he fancied himself as a bit of a poet so it felt fitting to reflect on his passing amidst the tranquility and majesty of the Three Valleys as the sun went down. I was grateful to be there.

We all left Les Menuires in good spirits and feeling positive despite these troubled times. It would be a shame for the high mountains to become over popular, but it was great to see them appreciated other than just for walking.

Best wishes

Peter H.

[joycey4]

Southeast Washington State – Back in Summer of either 2003 or 2004, a friend of mine I decided to pack up my car and head south along the coast. We didn’t really know where we’d end up going only that were going to follow the Pacific Highway as far as we could go until we either ran out of time or money.

Highway 1

Photo ©: Jimmy Emerson, DVM & Derek Helt

Eager to get on the road, we left home the evening before and stopped an hour and change away in Goldendale, WA. There we spent the night at her grandparents 15-room house in the woods. Purchased in 1983, they’d been working on the house bit-by-bit. Y2K wasn’t going to catch them off guard. Each of the room had a different theme and could sleep a family. Most of them had direct access to the center piece of the home, which was a large indoor pool. Most pools you see are surrounded by concrete. This one had pretty cobblestone. It looked like something you’d find in a lodge at ski resort in the Colorado Rockies.

Through the glass paneled wall, which looked out onto the surrounding evergreen trees,  their tailless pet peacock in its metallic blue and green brilliance could be spotted strutting about. We were told that it had been spooked by something and left its backside behind as it ran. I didn’t want to laugh, but the way it was carrying about, you’d swear it would tell you a different story. “You should see the other guy” was written all over it’s proud, avian face; Whether a town fair or a festival, I can’t remember, but we spent a whimsical evening in town before turning in.

The stop in Goldendale set the tone for the rest of the trip. My pal Bean couldn’t drive stick (manual) so I drove it all for us. We continued through the Columbia River Gorge (taking a break at the Gardens in Portland), with overnight stops at the Redwood National Park, CA; San Francisco, CA; Santa Cruz, CA; Anaheim, CA; and a Rosarito, Mexico. Rosarito was as far as we made it when both time and funds ran short. During the trip we camped, hosteled, hoteled and homestayed and then car slept on the way back. On our return, we took the major interstate routes outside the major cities through Sacramento all the way back. All this to say:  I’ve never made to the city.*

The opportunity was there, but we got stuck in traffic along the way. After balancing gears for two+ hours, I’d had enough and we decided to book a hotel in Anaheim and hit up California Adventure instead. I don’t know that that actually counts. Either way the experience left a bad impression. From that brief encounter, I had no desire to visit Hell-a.

The City Angels

Between the trip to Copenhagen and December 2017, I’d managed to bank my holidays and a couple weeks of overtime. Having moved last August to save some dough, I decided this year to use some of it and live my best life.  Rather than take holiday with everyone else, I held out for the end of January to take advantage of lower fares and less tourists. A perk of a child-less traveller. The original plan was to spend a proper winter at home in Washington State, but we wouldn’t be able to do much. Better saved for July.  Instead I’d opted for So Cal and Vegas before heading south.

——————————

The North American leg of the trip was sort of my first solo trip and I. LOVED. IT. My entire life was got. Before I get to the highlights, a very public shout out to my tía (aunt) Vi. not only for hosting me the week I was there, but also for having me drive around town in style as the Angelinos do.

I didn’t actually stay in LA, but in Riverside. I heard from mom (who flew down for a couple days as I flew to Vegas) that it’s a very nice place:

Photo ©: Mom

I have a lot of exploring to do next time. From my own time there, these were the highlights:

My Summer do (hairdo).  Technically this was just before the trip, but I’m counting it. Heat, humidity and I are not friends. I don’t know what to do with myself. In the run up to Sydney summer, I had my hairdresser (Rumbi & Co) do as she wished; anything to make dealing with my hair in the wet heat manageable. This is what she did. Also peep the new specs the guys at Vedi Optik (Copenhagen, DK) picked out for me. In the end it came down to the exact frame in two colors: obviously cool and interesting. I went with interesting.

Day 1: Was really just me landing and knocking out a list of things I had to do (including updating my phone). Nothing special, but I was immediately reminded the nation’s customer service prowess. I miss it.

  Day 2: Disneyland. Having been before (Disney World in the late 80s and Disneyland Tokyo in 2000) I was surprised by how excited I was about to go.  It👏🏾 was👏🏾 FUN👏🏾! Largely because I didn’t have to answer to anyone. Also because it was A) Low season (= less people) and B) single rider lines. The longest wait I had  (10-15 minutes roughly) was for the Haunted Mansion, which I only went to because I’d gotten my portrait done and the paint needed time to dry. I regretted going to it immediately after the doors shut. #notforme

After the ride and picking my picture, I bought my self some funnel cake mindlessly wandered over to a cluster of people standing around and joined them. Seemed like a good thing to do and it turned out it be so. Not only did I meet a lovely older couple from Spokane, WA, but it was the prime standing zone for the evening firework show. Spectacle? Whatever you’d call it, it was pretty cool and I enjoyed watching it.

Faves: The Bayou/Pirates ride (the Bayou was so pretty!), funnel cake and spotting Mary & Bert (in the photo above on the left). Regrets: The shoes I wore. Although flat, they had no arch support. By the end of the spectacular show, my dogs were howling. Who knew you could drunk-girl-in-heels walk entirely sober in flat shoes? I struggle-walked back to the shuttle and barely made it to the car.

Day 3: Universal Studios. I had no intention of visiting UP at all. Figured a day or two at Disney would be good. But the couple from Spokane convinced me it was worth the trip and I’m glad that they did. We hoped to meet up again at the Three Broomsticks, but this was not meant to be.

Like Disney, it was a good time to visit. Since I’d only be there one day, I opted for an Unlimited Express pass (includes unlimited express access to each ride, attraction and seated shows). At $220USD (for general admission + pass), it makes a dent, but I could not have been happier with my decision. Rather than spend most of my day there waiting in queues (the Studio Tour was at least 30 mins, Harry Potter & Jurassic Park more like a hour) I was able to hit up every ride** and most the shows. I don’t know that that was a good thing as I was began feeling my age a few rides in, but no barfing. A slight headache yes, but I imagine it was because at all the virtual simulation.

Newbie tip: Amex has a lounge in the park that’s open to card members! Though small, it’s clean, air-conditioned, cosy, quiet and empty (when I was there anyway). Free to take were a selection of beverages and light snacks. Note that you have to purchase your entry ticket with your Amex card in order to access the space. I didn’t know this. But, since I was alone and there was only one family in there, they let me in. It was a welcomed break from all the walking and all the noise.

Photo ©: Universal Studios

Favorites: In second place, the Special Effects show. The top spot goes to Harry Potter World. I’d seen the movies but never read the books prior to going. Every part of me was blown away by the attention to detail and imagination of Hogsmede. I wanted to live there. It’s how I imagine my tiny house in the woods would look minus the wildflowers if that stonework wasn’t so expensive. Twice I hung out there, upon arrival and after I’d seen everything else, and enjoyed some Butterbeer (like a butterscotch soda). My souvenir? Harry’s knitted sweater. The Sydney Opera House has been running an HP in Concert series and I was able to debut the jumper.

This last one I was able to convince Als to join me. Unimpressed with the basic pics we ended up with, I had my way with them and came up with the much better pics below. Als looked too put together and pretty in her pic so I gave her greasy streaks, teardrop tatts and a chipped tooth. 😂😂😂

  Day 4: The Downtown Street Fest. What’s not to love about a block party in someone else’s neighborhood? It was a pity not to have been able to stay longer, and that there wasn’t better dance music on the open spots (although large CPH’s Distortion it is not), but it was meeting up with a friend from Chicago (he and I met working at a comedy theater) and his wife.

Day 5: Oxy, my Ukranian sista, and I went shopping. 

We studied together in Michigan. It had been a minute. The last time I saw was just after my graduation when she and two other friends came to Chi-town to hit up the zoo with me for my birthday. That was over ten years ago already…

  Chicago Zoo 2008

Chicago Zoo 2008

Chicago Zoo 2008

Chicago Zoo 2008

Chicago Zoo 2008

Photo ©: Rich Beckermeyer

I wasn’t expecting to see her. I shouldn’t have. Something was wrong with her car. A burning smell or smoke. I told her not to risk it, but as I made my way to the Desert Hills Outlet Mall, a text came in on my phone. She was on her way. My friend drove a questionable vehicle 2 hours (4 hours round trip) to see me. Oxy. We spent the next four hour strolling about, catching up and constantly leaving our items behind. In all I made two purchases, which she approved of but wasn’t impressed with. “My dear, these are not sexy. How are we going to find you a man? You need to show more skin!” Oxy.

Next up: Vegas

————————————————

*Somewhere the physical photos for this trip exists. If I find them, I’ll share them.

** The downside of these parks this time of the year is that a few of the rides are closed. At Disneyland it was Matterhorn and It’s a Small World. Think there was another. At Universal Studios, the Water World section was closed.

Los Angeles...in which I catch up with friends, hit some amusement parks and reminisce about a road-trip I took many moons ago. La ciudad de los angeles gets two thumbs up from me. Southeast Washington State – Back in Summer of either 2003 or 2004, a friend of mine I decided to pack up my car and head south along the coast.

[abevyofbirbs]

(I had SO MUCH fun drawing this! X3 I saw the base and immediately went... I need to draw Emil and Jasper like this. lol I hope that you like it!) 

( Pose - ★ )

[newstfionline]

From Africa to tea with the Queen

By Melissa Twigg, BBC, 19 July 2018

Eighty-year-old women are supposed to stay at home. The neatly dressed grandmother of our collective imagination derives her pleasure from indoor pursuits--cooking, reading, knitting. One thing octogenarian women aren’t supposed to do is embark on a solo five-month journey through Africa, driving from Cape Town to Cairo in a battered Toyota Conquest.

Julia Albu never set out to be exceptional. Her daily routine slotted neatly into what the world expects from an older woman living in a leafy village near Cape Town. Every morning she would listen to the radio, and one day the discussion turned to then-President Jacob Zuma and his extravagant taste in cars.

“I was incensed,” Albu said. “I phoned in immediately to say I was going to be 80, and my car, Tracy, was a 20-year-old Toyota and she ran beautifully. We could happily drive to London together, so why Zuma needed all these new cars was beyond me.”

Buoyed by the enthusiastic response she received, Albu pledged on air to drive to Buckingham Palace to have tea with the Queen--and before long, the seeds of what had begun as a joke started germinating.

“My partner had recently died, you see,” Albu said. “It was an exhausting process, and after all that I thought, ‘My goodness, there really isn’t much of life left’. I feel like I’m 36 from the shoulders up and 146 from the shoulders down, and I wanted the younger me to win for once.”

Six months later, on the dawn of her 80th birthday, Albu’s youthful half triumphed. With Tracy’s grey, squat exterior emblazoned with the rainbow-coloured stickers of her sponsors, Albu set off on a frosty morning from her house in Jakkalsfontein, hurtling up a gum tree-lined road pointing north.

“I was raring to go,” she said. “I had been inoculated against every known virus, although the doctor said he didn’t think I’d need any STD precautions, which was insulting. And Tracy was looking beautiful, upholstered from the seats to the sun visors in pink florals.”

A cavalcade of Harley Davidsons bid her farewell outside Johannesburg, but other than that, South Africa passed in a blur of Karoo pepper trees and cold winter nights. And so it was left to Botswana to give Albu her first taste of African adventure.

“We were pottering along the road when an elephant nearly came to blows with poor Tracy. And the potholes, oh they were too awful. But it all felt magical, from the heat drifting through my windows to the baobab trees. I knew I was going to be alright because everyone I met was so kind. They called me ‘Gogo’, which means grandmother.”

In those early weeks, Albu often slept in a tent on the side of the road. But while her spirit was indomitable, her body was not, and sleeping on the ground soon took its toll. Her family rallied around to help--one daughter eventually drove with her to Zimbabwe, while her son accompanied her through Malawi.

But interspersed with moments of hardship was Albu’s utter exhilaration at seeing the continent she was born in finally blossoming into focus. Her eyes lit up when she talked about the majesty of Lake Malawi or Zimbabwe’s Victoria Falls, but also when she described the details of life on the road. There was the man selling wicker furniture under a dusty Malawian tree, and the Zambian schoolgirls who read to her. She talked about vendors frying mice, truck drivers sharing food with her, and ripe tomatoes she plucked off the vine.

“I never felt lonely, even when I was alone,” she said. “I loved the times my children visited, and the intimate moments I spent with each of them. But you must remember Tracy is also an older lady just like me, and this was something we were doing together.”

Albu’s age was clearly a mixed blessing. African border posts can be notoriously difficult to negotiate, but she breezed through most of them. The truck drivers she had been sharing the road with began to recognise her and ushered her to the front of the queue.

“The belief in the wisdom of your elders is ingrained in a lot of African cultures--though often they just found me hilarious,” she said. “One Ugandan customs official asked why I was driving to London. ‘To have tea with the Queen’ I replied. His eyes were like marbles, and my passport was stamped in a jiffy.”

Nonetheless, I sensed Albu’s profound frustration at being physically unable explore the nooks and crannies of the continent unfolding around her. “Oh to be 40 years younger,” she said. “The mountains I would have climbed; the lakes I would have swum in.”

Instead, Albu quenched her boundless thirst for Africa through its people. Her travel diary is filled with page upon page of names, numbers and business cards, including the addresses of hundreds of teachers she sent schoolbooks to through a charity she is affiliated with.

In Tanzania, she stumbled upon a small village and began talking to one of the elders, named William. They spent hours together that day and the next, sitting on a bench while putting the world to rights. Months later, a letter from him plopped through her door in Cape Town. “Your radiant and full-of-life personality is amazing,” he wrote. “Your willingness to share the good moments of others taught me what life can mean. I, in my own way, promise to give you company.”

During the trip, Albu learned to shake off age with a flick of her hair. In Tanzania, at a honeymooner resort, she peeled off her dress for a midnight swim. In Ethiopia, she camped with eager 20-somethings in the Danakil Depression, a neon-hued moonscape of lava and salt plains that is often described as the ‘gateway to hell’.

Her enthusiasm for Ethiopia is particularly infectious--for the dramatic landscapes and for the profound spirituality that imbues the place. Sudan, too, she describes with a sense of awe that I suspect is reserved for an Africa with which she no longer feels familiar.

“I think I got my moment of purest joy when I was driving alone through the Sudanese desert on the long road to Khartoum,” she said. “My tape of hymns was playing at full blast and I was singing ‘Jerusalem’, thinking about England’s green and pleasant land while a shepherd shuffled through the sand in the distance.”

Albu’s African odyssey ended in Egypt, the country where her luck in namedropping the Queen finally ran out. Held at border control for several days while Tracy was fitted with Arabic number plates, her only option was to sleep in a cafe. “I’m not sure if you’ve ever spent the night alone in a room with seven Egyptian men, but it certainly was an experience,” she said. “They were kind though, and if they were surprised I was a woman on my own, they didn’t show it.”

Up through Egypt she went, stopping off in Aswan and The Valley of the Kings and finishing in the polluted streets of Cairo. On her last day, she parked on the banks of the Nile to collect some murky river water, which was destined to sit on her mantelpiece next to bottles filled up at the source of the White Nile in Tanzania and the Blue Nile in Ethiopia.

From Cairo, Albu flew back to Cape Town, watching the continent unfold below her and pitying her fellow passengers for their sky-high perspective. After recuperating in Jakkalsfontein for a few months, Albu boarded a plane to Europe and was reunited with Tracy--who had languished for weeks in a container in Greece after crossing the Mediterranean by ferry. From Greece, she drove through Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Slovenia, Austria, Germany and Holland, and arrived in London for the summer season.

“Oh, I was dying to have tea with the Queen--particularly after telling the world and his wife that I was going to,” Albu says. “But it was the week of Royal Ascot and apparently she was otherwise engaged. The English are a strange breed--I’m not sure they appreciated quite how long my journey to Buckingham Palace was.”

Although astoundingly, London was not the final stop in Albu’s odyssey. Last week, she crossed the Channel again and is currently heading for the heel of Italy, from where she will sail for Tunisia and begin her drive to Cape Town--crossing Africa overland for the second time in as many years.

“Well, why not? What do you want me to do, sit on this sofa and wait to die?” she asks, with a laugh. “There is a freedom that comes with old age that so many people don’t realise. I didn’t know it before my adventure, but at my age you’re actually freer than you’ve ever been--you lose a husband and the children are grown, and you worry less about the consequences of everything.”

We have a tendency to treat older people with kid gloves, but excitement and adventure are not prerogatives of the young. And if the inhabitants of Buckingham Palace one day read about Albu’s story and send an embossed invitation down to South Africa, she and Queen will undoubtedly have a lot to say on the subject.

[dadsontour]

Dads on tour: One day in Antarctica

My dad loves to write a holiday letter. And they’re usually too funny not to share. Names have been changed to protect fellow passengers (you’ll understand why)...

This letter was received after a sightseeing flight to Antarctica.

This was never going to be a typical flight, albeit Melbourne to Melbourne (via Antarctica) non stop for 12 ½ hours depending on what happened along the way.  

The instructions were quite simple – bring the camera and not much else, no check in, no luggage,  just a lanyard and two boarding passes (one for the trip to Antarctica and a different seat for the return).  I opted for the back section of the 747 where viewing was as unrestricted as it can be through plane windows.  Good choice.

The passengers

Three hundred and something people boarding a jumbo in domestic – well it worked and there was not a spare seat!  I couldn’t help but notice a school group decked out in their uniform.  Of course my thoughts went straight to which private school was this and then counting the rather good teacher to student ratio! 

 It was only later that we found out that the school was a government one and was one of three (the others from Hobart and also Invercargill) as part of a scientific research program in schools. I suppose no overseas travel documentation required on a Melbourne to Melbourne flight!

Not having extravagant luggage to squash into the overhead lockers might have simplified boarding considerably had it not been for the couple in row 46 who just could not work out which seats they had, but we got there.  Off and in the air by 8.20 a.m. in the safe hands of “one of QANTAS’s most experienced captains” with two other captains and a second officer along for the ride.

Remembering the first rule of group travel “if they are not talking about someone then watch out it could be you!” we weren’t even past take off when it became obvious I was surrounded by some of the potential talking points of the outbound journey.  

Yes my neighbour (let’s protect the innocent and call him Bert) and his daughter (let’s call her Beryl!)  Well Bert did manage to ensure that everyone around had an individual explanation of his hernia op and his knee replacements before Port Phillip Bay had disappeared. 

 And Bert was a contractor in building the runway too!  But wait Beryl, they have the flight path on the screen “I’ll show you how to read it” And read it he did, aloud! Photos, he had to get a few so off to a window before announcing that his phone was just about full somewhere across Bass Strait. To some relief he found himself trapped behind the drink carts and unable to get back to his seat until somewhere around Hobart.

We also had a film crew on board from the Places We Go (channel 10 in October) - the Clint Bizzell one.  I saw Clint at one stage come down to  the next galley but they didn’t trouble themselves with the rear cabin!

Brunch

Its brunch time over the Southern Ocean and of course being seated down the back, the food options were reduced by the time the trolley came around, but no problem. We didn’t come for the food.  

Bert got half way through his meal when he informed us that he had a Japanese tenant at one stage and she sends him photos of food still. He decided it was time to return the favour, so took a photo of the meal to send to her.  Next time Bert perhaps before you start it rather than half way through??  The food served, the young gentleman in the seat in front of Bert took the disruptive step of putting his seat into full recline (the only one in the whole cabin) and settling into a movie as you do on a sightseeing flight to Antarctica. 

Now my solution to that as previously trialled on long haul flights is quite simply to undertake very regular knee and leg exercises into the back of the seat of the offender.  Not really a possibility for Bert with those knees (“titanium you know”). 

Valentines day passion

I had joked previously about all of the Valentines Day couples who would be on the plane.  Well let’s put the record straight.  By 10.30 the queues for the toilets certainly reflected the demands of ageing bladders, not Valentines Day passion!

The plane was a real mix of people, but there was certainly an over representation (in my part of  the plane at least) of daughters around 50-70 taking one or both of the elderly parents along for the ride.  Not sure who was paying!

“Beryl, how about we have a selfie” says Bert and so lots more NQR photos before a woman in front ends the misery by offering to take the photo of them.  “They call this a selfie” says Bert to the helpful lady. “ I have a couple of selfie sticks at home but they are broken”  For that we could be grateful as I told him!

The first icebergs

By 11.20 the first sightings of icebergs appeared amongst lots of clouds,  announced by someone walking the aisle as “I just saw an icicle!” Much excitement and photos of course.  

By this stage we were not at the Antarctic Circle and still cruising along at just over 10,000m ASL.  Apparently the weather all week in much of Antarctica had been really bad and although they had 19 alternative flight paths, it was quite clear they were hoping to some extent on this occasion.  

Typically it all starts to open up about 4 hours into the flight as the ice takes over. That ice on this occasion was below a very thick cloud cover.  The most common flight path is apparently to head for the South Magnetic Pole and then on hitting the coast travel west along the Australian section of Antarctica, but not today.  

We were aiming for the Ross Sea and Ross Ice shelf where the weather was expected to be better.  On passing over Cape Adare we dropped down to just over 5000 metres which was to be the level we flew at whilst down there.  Remembering of course that much of the land is over 3000 metres ASL. Only -26 degrees outside which I expected to be a bit colder!  

The clouds have cleared

And then 4 and a half hours into the flight the clouds cleared and the most amazing sights appeared. At this point the whole dynamic of the plane changes.  Even the movie goer is out of his seat taking a photo or two.  Bert has managed to squeeze out a few more photos.  

Virtually no one is in the centre bank of seats and everyone is in the aisles or squashing into the 3 or 2 side seats.  We then spent the next four or so hours cruising around the Ross Sea with the plane doing figures of 8 to ensure everyone saw plenty.  

Concurrently two former Antarctic Expedition Leaders provided continuous commentary over the P.A., which was good although difficult to hear at times.  I was very appreciative of an exceptionally generous couple (my seat rotation pair) who were happy to share their window views on the way down.  That was the sort of atmosphere that prevailed once the views appeared.  

Spotting penguins (not quite)

We flew over the Korean base and the Italian one (the Italians had gone home for winter) and although McMurdo was down there I did not see it.  One of my real highlights was flying adjacent to Mt Erebus and actually being able to look into the smoking crater of the volcano as we flew just 1500 metres above it. 

Pristine ice tongues extending out into the ocean looked amazing, stunningly sharp and steep mountains and some great glaciers but let the photos speak for themselves in that department.  We got down to 78 degrees south. 

No, we didn’t see any penguins, but as I am reminded by the fans of Happy Feet the girls have done their bit and left the eggs with the males whilst they go back out to sea.  My view on these flights had always been that a flight and could not match the ground experience.  How that has changed.  

The distance we flew over and the sights we saw from the air were just amazing.  Such a fantastic experience.  And of course each flight is different.  The one the week before from Sydney had passed over Mawson’s Hut and other places that were off limits to us due to the weather, but then the comment was made that they had not seen parts like Mt Erebus as clearly as this flight on any previous one.  I don’t think anyone felt left out of the viewing or the experience.  

Heading back to Melbourne

When the cloud set in again about 4 hours later we went back up to altitude and started heading for Melbourne.  We weren’t finished though as the Balleny Islands (right on the Antarctic Circle) popped out of cloud – an uncommon phenomenon apparently.  Of course that meant a 30 minute detour to take these in as well. That was the sort of flight that it was.

The return flight was a much more subdued as dinner and the fundraising raffles (for Mawsons Hut restoration) were underway.  A head wind back as well as our detour around the Bellany Islands meant that the 6500 kms was a bit slower, with a late arrival, but who cared!  Certainly not me.  

It certainly did not feel like a 13 hour flight.  As everyone had been thanked and we cruised into Melbourne there was one more experience awaiting.  Our much praised Captain (under the watchful eyes of his two peer captains) misjudged the last few metres of the descent and we arrived with a (huge) thud.  

The passengers in front who were suddenly presented with a whole bank of oxygen masks falling out of the roof certainly got a huge shock!  The Captain came on the P.A. and apologised for the landing, assuring us though that there is a silver lining to every cloud – the sudden stop meant that we had a much shorter taxi to the terminal!  

What an unbelievable experience!

Dad

[abevyofbirbs]

(A li’l gift for the amazing @compan-heiro ! :3 Nestor is an awesome character; the amount of thought and care you put into how you portray him is incredible. I’ve learned a lot about him (as well as all the characters you RP) and they are all just SO GOOD?! lol X3 I really enjoy reading your posts, and think that you are not only a wonderful person but a wonderful writer as well! :D I hope that you have a super, duper day friendo! *thumbs up*) 

[abevyofbirbs]

how do your muses view magic?

(The views on magic actually vary a lot with my different magical muses… How they view it, even anthropomorphizing it in some instances, depends heavily on who they are. Personalities, ambitions, how they are raised, etc… No view of magic is exactly the same as the other and I think that’s pretty neat. :3 Even though some of my muses are adults in threads, I’m going to focus on their views when they were children. Because that is when they were more concerned/focused on magic due to learning it in school.)

(Odelia: Magic feels like a living entity for her, but one that is stubborn and mischevious. Like a trickster who finds joy in messing with her… It’s always just out of her reach, enough for her to graze it and sometimes even draw a trickle of it. But never enough for her to do anything worthwhile or even that impressive at all. It’s like magic doesn’t want to be used, at least, by her… When she is calm, she is allowed to touch it. But it’s like only being allowed to touch a drop out of a vast ocean. When her emotions are strong, she is suddenly allowed to dive into it. But it’s like diving into a raging sea that is nearly impossible to navigate… Magic is alive, but it isn’t kind. It isn’t helpful. It is a cruel, taunting, frightening thing that she is desperately trying to learn how to control. It’s an enemy.)

(Delilah: Magic itself isn’t her main focus. It is important and it is something that needs to be mastered, but the craft is what she fixates on when it comes to magic. What can be done with it… For example, magic is like paint. It is necessary for a painter to have, but without being applied with a paintbrush and actually turned into something beautiful… it is just paint. It is a tool that when used correctly, is the source of something amazing. But alone, it is simply a source of potential. But potential is meaningless if it isn’t actually being taken advantage of. For her personally, her tool is flawed. It is unpredictable, and she can never be certain if it is going to work like it should. It’s like dipping her brush into a paint bucket, but never being sure if the paint is going to stick or simply slide off. It’s something that she is trying to force to work, trying to force to be fixed. Because how can she create something amazing if it is constantly failing? It’s a necessary tool.)

(Dedrick: Magic is something he doesn’t put too much thought into. It merely exists in the world. Like phones, pencils, cars, etc… It’s a tool that just so happens to be a lot more useful than most things are. He’s fortunate enough to be someone who is actually capable of using it. He finds it easy enough to handle, unlike others who seem to struggle with using it. If he had to guess why using magic isn’t too difficult for him, he’d just equate it to natural talent. Like someone being a naturally good singer… People are either able to do it or they aren’t. Yet again, he just happens to be one of those who can. It’s all just dumb luck and magic has no hand in any of it. It’s useful and he takes full advantage of it, learning whatever spells he thinks are helpful and not bothering to learn those that aren’t. It’s no different than learning how to cook but not how to bake. It’s just a tool.)

(Serenity: Magic feels like a separate being from her. Even when using it, she feels as if she is working alongside someone. Borrowing from them, rather than just drawing from a source of unfeeling energy. Channeling magic is like communicating with this mass of raw power… It’s strong and dangerous, but beautiful and nurturing at the same time. If its trust is earned and it is shown the proper reverence, then it will do what she asks it to. Because even when casting a spell, she isn’t telling the magic what to do. She is merely telling it what she would like it to do… Magic is like a mix between a wild animal and a dear friend. Sometimes spells are cast without her even meaning to or realizing that it is being cast. Like whenever there is fire around, a powerful protection spell is placed on her seemingly instantly. This could be equated to her instinctively casting the spell, and lots of people claim that is the case. But whenever this happens, it feels more like a spell is being cast on her. Rather than her casting one herself… As if magic itself is coming to her aid. It’s a friend.)

(Theo: Magic is neutral. It isn’t alive. It isn’t good or bad. It isn’t something to be used for amazing things and it isn’t something to be used for mundane things. It is just something to be used… What it is used for depends on the person using it, as well as their capabilities to use it. Magic is a tool and channeling it is a skill that can be honed with practice. No different than any other (aside from the fact that not everyone is capable of pursuing it) people can become more adept at using it if they apply themselves. While some people are naturally good with it, this doesn’t mean someone who isn’t a natural can’t reach or surpass those who are. If someone works diligently enough, eventually they will improve just like they would if they were attempting anything else. Theo doesn’t find it that difficult to use and could be considered inherently skilled. But he still finds himself not nearly as good as he is told he should be, and he often feels inadequate compared to his peers. So, he continues working in the hope knowledge that he’ll get better… It’s work.)

[abevyofbirbs]

✩ { @birdhcuse - Continued from ★ } ✩

{ ☆ } Serenity looks over at the unfamiliar girl, eyes widening with surprise before regaining a friendly twinkle shining in their indescribable depths. Well... This is new. Normally, people aren’t too fond of the burst of color disturbing her monochrome scheme. Viewing it as a deformity that she should hide, instead of flaunting the disgusting blemish for all to see. Not that the complaints have any noticeable effect on the Loon... If anything, they just make her defiantly hold her head higher. Looking everyone dead in the eyes; daring them to blink first.

Setting down the chocolate milkshake that she had been leisurely sipping, her elbow goes to rest on the counter as she supports her cheek with one hand. Grinning, she unashamedly responds, “Hehe... Thanks, Dolly! You got some real neato eyes yourself...” Free hand going to push back the thick glasses threatening to slide down her beak, Serenity continues, “Two different shades of grey. I’ve never seen that before...” Her gaze roams over the other girl for a moment, checking to see if there is anything else out of the ordinary... Not much. Her outfit is well-coordinated and her feathers are neatly styled.

Which is more than can be said for Serenity...

As if her eyes don’t draw enough attention to her, the Loon’s outfit is also a tad... odd. At least, regarding the social norm. Instead of donning a dress like most girls do when going out in public, Serenity is wearing a comfortable pair of dungarees. Suitable for lounging around the house or for younger girls who are still allowed to get dirty playing outside... Not visiting an establishment; even if it is just a local diner. Her blouse doesn’t fare much better, untucked and a bit wrinkled. As if she’s been jumping and running in it. Which isn’t too far from the truth. Her ruffled appearance contrasts starkly with the silk ribbon holding back her hair... Although, the messiness of the ponytail quickly reaffirms the casual look. { ☆ }

[abevyofbirbs]

(*boops out a li’l gift for the awesome @birdhcuse * :3c Your OCs are amazing and I love learning about them! They are all so deeply thought-out, unique, well-designed, etc... Honestly, I could gush about how wonderful they and you are for a while. lol X3 I adore all of our interactions and chats, and just wanted to let you know that you are an incredible person, writer and artist! :D *finger guns* I hope that you have a great day, friendo!)

[abevyofbirbs]

✩ { @maudgical } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } Abbey has seen a lot of strange things ever since she started dating Maude... Things that she used to only dream of or read about in books, suddenly manifested in her life once the magical girl entered it. It’s both a blessing and a curse... While having the chance to get first-hand experience with the subjects of her research is a wonderful (often unbelievable) opportunity, it is also one that tends to be... terrifying at times. Like now, for instance... Abbey is about eighty-five percent sure that when a voodoo doll begins to talk, it’s not a good thing. Especially when it’s one as creepy as this doll.

Jumping at the unexpected voice coming from the unexpected vessel, Abbey’s heart races as her brain screams for her to leave. However, instead of listening to her common sense fear, Abbey presses herself against the wall and does her best to calm herself down. If she ran every time something unnerving happened, she wouldn’t deserve to call herself a researcher. Although at the moment, that doesn’t seem like an important enough reason to continue looking into those chilling button eyes... Creating a mental checklist, Abbey does her best to steady her breathing. She can’t exactly talk if she’s hyperventilating, after all.  

Steady breathing... Check. Make eye contact... Check. Unfortunately... Respond... “H-Hello...” Abbey timidly begins, voice barely above a whisper. Not one for talking, it usually takes her a bit to get her voice stable when she’s just speaking to a person. So, this will take some effort... Clearing her throat, her face soon heats up with shame. Embarrassing herself in front of a doll... That’s a new low. “H-He... Ahem... S-Sorry... Ahem... Hello...” Respond... Check. “Um... It’s a... Ahem... Pleasure to meet you.” From the anxious look on her face and the tenseness of her body, pleasure isn’t exactly a word that could describe how Abbey feels about the situation. But, polite to a fault, Abbey finds the words instinctively flowing from her. “M-May I know your name, please?” { ☆ }