#Halfway through making it I realised I just made freddi fish

[insertcommonnoun]

Some character designs I made for an English assessment I am too proud of to abandon in schoolwork :)

Character names and descriptions under the cut

The main idea these characters are attached to is a point and click adventure game, where you (the blue-ringed octopus) solve the mystery of the plastic pollution in the reef.

Note: Each bio is written in the perspective of the main character, H. Losa.

Detective H. Losa

Species: southern blue-ring octopus

Bio: “An up-and-coming, suave young detective who moved from his humble rock pool down south to the Big Reef. Avid mug-collector and assigned to the plastic case.”

Note 1: I really like this design. I think it’s one of the better ones I’ve made, really.

Note 2: His briefcase carries everything in the inventory. Originally it was going to be much larger, but I felt like it unbalanced the design.

Dr. Carrie Ginglymostoma/Doctor G.

Species: Nurse shark

Bio: “A GP working at the local clinic and the person who brought the plastic problem to my attention. Plastic bits have been showing up all over the place recently, and have even started to show up in her patients! She is a lovely person, she helped me when I got myself stuck in a shampoo bottle once.”

Note 1: I would imagine she would move very drowsily and just seem tired of it all.

Note 2: I like to think her glasses don’t help at all, nurse sharks in real life have poor eyesight but she uses her barbels & other senses to navigate, she just thinks it makes her look smarter.

“Crusher” Carcharhinus

Species: Great White Shark

Bio: “Big boss of the Atlantis casino down the shore from my office. He frequents Dr. Ginglymostoma’s clinic for the wound where his dorsal fin was and his fedora currently resides. Nobody knows his real name. The Carchar family run a lot of this part of town, most of the property is owned by them. He married into the family, partially for love, but mostly for power… Rumour says his dorsal fin was ripped off his body by a fisherman. Crusher looks intimidating, but he’s actually an excellent host! I just wish he didn’t think I’m a fry, I’m well above the average size for my species!”

Note: I was originally going to make him very intimidating, but I couldn’t stop laughing at images of great whites from the front. Of course great whites are very dangerous in the wrong circumstances, but I wanted to capture how silly they can look.

Melano Carcharhinus

Species: Blacktip reef shark

Bio: “Crusher’s stepson. He reminds me of me as a fry, scared, terrified and a little wimpy. Crusher seems to not like him much. I feel for him, poor kid just doesn’t seem cut out for the family he was born into. I’m glad he has one. I wish I knew my parents, us octopuses tend to die as soon as we mate. Which is why I’m indefinitely a bachelor.”

Note: I was going to give him a little casino outfit, but clothing a shark is as difficult as it sounds. Also, I was running out of time. These were all made in like an hour.

Note 2: I’m aware octopus mothers don’t die as soon as they mate, but they do die shortly after their eggs hatch.

[iwalc]

Take me home

Hi people! I hope you are all well! Here is a something I've worked on for a while. Uhm, I realise now that I have never posted anything I've written on here before, so I am a little nervouse, ngl. I've been into a horrible writersblock for over a year now and this is the firt piece I've even been able to finish, which also makes me kind of nervouse. Either way, here it is. I hope you'll like it, and if you do, pls let me know.

Wordcount: around 2500.

I haven't really proofread anything, so if there are anything that's a bit off, then I apologise.

Damn it. I lost. Again. Here I am pissed drunk in a bar, far away from home. Or... what's supposed to be my home. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast.

Almost a year ago I moved from home. It was sudden but necessary. I got into college in London and saw my opportunity to leave my abusive household. For years the mental abuse had just gradually gotten worse. Although I love my parents to bits, it was not a healthy surrounding and I needed a new perspective. I moved into a small apartment a few minutes from my college. The apartment wasn't really luxurious. But what could I expect with rent that cheap. It was alright. For me at least. Soon after the move classes started. The first few days were rough. A lot of new things, new people, new surroundings and I was all alone. You see, I am not a fan of new things. I'd rather be stuck with everything the same than have the winds of change knock everything I know to pieces. That's what I soon noticed. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Everything was to pieces. I've never felt so lost or scared.

After a while, these strange feelings of insecurity and fear decreased a bit. I started seeing people from my classes. We went to lunches, studied, went out on the weekends. For the first time in a long while it felt like my life was starting to get better. I felt alive, not only like I was just existing. I felt normal. I lived in a large city, in a tiny apartment, barely being able to pay rent, eating fish sticks and whatever else cheap food that Tesco happened to sell out, spending all money on weekends clubbing, listening to bands, laughing, getting shitfaced, having the time of my life.

On one of these nights, I met someone. Someone that would change my life drastically, and thank god it was for the better. It was an ordinary weekend. Me and the girls got ready for a night out, as usual. Only this time we were to meet Angela's boyfriend and his friends. Everyone was crazy excited. I tried to be, but as we have stated before, I'm not doing very well with breaking routines or new things, hence my increasing anxiety. To cut the chase, Angela's boyfriend had nice friends. Especially one of them. Brian. I don't really know what drew me to him. He just seemed so calm and safe. Somewhat on my level. The others, Angela, Jessica and Amanda, were all outgoing girls, finding it easy to talk and meet new people, having no trouble being in the centre of attention. I did not enjoy those types of things. I enjoyed letting others being in the centre of attention and them leading the way. I thrive in the shadows of other people and Brian seemed to be the same way. He was the quiet one, the one in the shadows. But he didn't seem shy. He sat comfortably in the booth, a beer in his hand, listening in to the conversations, taking part in them whenever it was needed. He seemed so calm, safe, secure. Something I craved. He was tall, green, welcoming eyes. Angela sat down beside her boyfriend, Roger, a blonde, seemingly handsome guy. Jessica was called over to Freddie, a dark-haired man, seemingly not afraid to stand in the centre of attention, he was very authentic and expressive. At first, I'd say he'd be a bitch, but he was so nice and welcoming. Such a sweetheart. Amanda sat down between Jessica and John and they got carried away with their conversation pretty quickly.

Me being me, trying to read the room, the new people, anxiously stood there, at the end of the table. My anxiety started to peak at this uncomfortable social situation. I had no idea what to do. I froze. The others seemed engulfed in their conversations and bonding and hadn't noticed my uncomfortable state. But Brian did. He seemed to understand and saw my anxiety. It was amazing how he just knew how to deal with it without scaring me off more. He redirected his attention towards where I stood. He calmly called my name. His voice. I've never ever felt more secure. After a few calls, and his hand gracing mine, I zoned in again and once again became aware of my surroundings. His touch. Warm. Soft. Peaceful. "Hey" he said softly, "would you like to sit down?" he asked as he carefully for a second took a hold of my hand, with me not showing any sign of uncomfort, he carefully guided me to sit down beside him, a soft smile gracing his lips. "I'm so sorry for zoning out like that, thank you" I quietly whispered. He once again took a soft hold of my hand, smiling, "Don't apologise, I understand". Something told me he did understand.

And ever since we met that night, at a pub in Kensington, he has made me feel at home. Safe. Comfortable. My pieces were glued together again. Brian was my everything. He still is. The last few months with him has been filled with such happiness and security I never ever thought I'd experience. I love him to bits. He understands me and my needs like no other. He knows how to take care of my anxiety attacks. He knows how to help me relax. He is my rock in a stormy ocean.

Until today. Earlier today, the pieces he glued together, fell apart, again. Today we moved in together. We figured it would help with our economic situation since we were both students. I mean, we love each other so why not. Well. This is why. I am once again falling apart. My pieces are flying away. I couldn't handle one more change. I've broken up with my family, moved away from home, started college, all in the period of 6 months. It was too much. And now this. I love him. But my world has been picked apart once more.

The whole day I've been feeling my anxiety increasing. Usually, Brian notices or I feel comfortable telling him, but this time I noticed how excited he was, I didn't want to hurt him with my bullshit. It's horrible feeling yourself falling apart but not be able to do anything about it. It was 7 pm and Brian was unpacking things in the living room while I sat on the sofa trying not to lose it. He kept talking about how happy he was and how this was a dream of his. How excited he was to share his life with me, to love me. All the while he was so happy babbling away, I was freaking out. To say the least.

My anxiety kept increasing and now I couldn't handle it anymore. I felt my breathing quickening, my hands and legs started to shake and tears started to stream down my eyes. I couldn't do this. What have I done? "Love? What do you think hanging this here?" Brian asked excitedly holding up a poster on the wall. I couldn't breathe. "Love?" Brian asked before he turned around. My knees were up to my chin, hands holding them in place, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my eyes. Brian was shocked to see me in this state of mind but wasted no time. He hurried up to me on the sofa. He sat down on his knees in front of me, his hands on my cheeks. "Love, look at me" he pleaded with a calm voice. "Love" he said, more firmly this time. "Shh you're okay, love, I got you" he said as I lifted my head to look at him. I was frightened. His beautiful, angelic face that earlier always brought me peace and comfort were now triggering my anxiety. I ran. I ran out of the apartment, down the staircase and out of the building. Before leaving the building I heard Brian calling my name, running after me.

That's where I am right now. I ran to a pub, the pub we met at. I'm drunk. Anger, love, confusion, roads that lead nowhere. As to lately, I don't know what has gotten into me. We all know life's a rollercoaster, ups and downs, downs and ups. This time I wasn't prepared. I've hit the ground. Hard. Everything happened so fast. Wrapped up so consumed by all this confusion. With every thought I down a beer. "Could I get another one pls?" I slurred to the bartender. But no. No way I was going to drink more tonight. I don't know if it was intentional or not to go to the only pub in London where I'm recognisable since we go there all the time. Maybe I wanted to be found. The bartender declined and then went through a doorway to the kitchen. I heard him talking on the phone. He was talking about me. More than that I couldn't recognise and soon after my head hit the table and I was out.

I woke up in a bed. It took some time to locate where I was, but soon I noticed I was in our apartment. My head was killing me along with the anxiety and guilt. What the hell happened. I had no idea.

Soon enough Brian entered the room. I couldn't do anything. I barely dared to look at him. He looked exhausted. And there was something else, it shocked me that I couldn't decipher what it was.

"Hi" he calmly said as he strode to my side of the bed and set down a glass of water and aspirin.

"Hi" I vaguely answered.

The silence took over the room. I barely dared to move but did to take my aspirin and drink some well-needed water. Not letting my eyes of Brian, I watched as his tall body sat down on the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he calmly asked as his hand strode closer to me but he didn't dare to touch me, probably confused by my signals yesterday.

I met him halfway and took a hold of his large and warm hand. As soon as he felt my hand on his he held mine tighter and let out a breath I didn't know he was holding.

"I don't know how to answer that" you answered honestly.

Brian hummed and stroked my hand with his thumb, looking at our locked hands.

"You scared me" he whispered. Tears threatening to leave his eyes.

That hurt.

"I'm so sorry" I panicked and sat up, only to regret it as my head almost pounded you dead. "Ow," I winced as my free hand went to hold my forehead.

"Careful" Brian voiced as calmly as ever. His eyes scanned around the room, trying to muster the courage for what he was to say next. He cleared his throat. "Can we talk about what happened?" he almost whispered, taking my hand in both of his, stroking it with his thumbs.

Of course, he wants to talk about it. There is nothing strange about that. However, I rather not. What am I supposed to say? That I panicked, that his face suddenly made me uneasy? That... I don't know. Suddenly I felt his hand upon my cheek. I must've zoned out.

"hey, it's alright"

I let out a loud sigh, catching Brians attention. "Brian, it is not alright. I'm a mess. What I did wasn't alright." Tears were now streaming down my cheeks. Burning like fire. Brians weight shifted as he crawled onto the bed, laying down behind me, embracing me like never before. His arms around my aching stomach and my arms. His leg over mine. His chin in the crook of my neck, whispering calming sentences while my tears shook my body. His body warming mine. It's always so calming.

How can I be so damn lucky? I ran away from home, from my love, I got piss drunk at a pub, and still, he took me home, taking care of me, holding me, loving me like no other. It's suffocating in the best way.

The tears calmed down. "Brian, I want to come home", I sniffed, crampingly grabbing onto his large, warm hand. "I'm hurting. I'm so lost. Confused. Angry." the tears were now rapidly streaming down my face again as I poured my aching heart out. "I really had to get away from home to live my life, to get better. When I first got here I felt cheated. It was so hard and I've never been worse my whole life. I've never felt more alone, left out, beaten up." I kept rambling on. "I know, love, I know." Brian cooed into my neck, stroking my arm. "But you don't Brian. I can't seem to find my way home. I'm so lost." I said as tears wrecked my body. Brian, holding me, securing me, hushing me, whispering sweet things. "I don't even know how you put up with me. I'm so broken. I came to you with a broken faith, and you gave me more than a hand to hold." The first time I voiced my fear and insecurity about how Brian feel about me. I'm so scared he'll leave me. He's all I've got. "Love, shh, It's ok. Hey, listen to me." he started as he turned me so I could look at him. "I understand that you feel like you're lost, I really do. Everything you've ever known has changed in less than a year. Space will eventually make it better, time will make it heal, and soon enough you won't feel like you're haunted. You won't be lost forever!" He praised as his hand stroked my cheek. Emphasizing the last sentence. I won't be lost forever.

"I'm so scared Brian"

"I know baby" he embraced me, "I know."

"I need you, Brian, don't leave me please, you're all I've got." I cried into his chest.

"Baby I won't. I never could. I love you! I will hold you. I will take you home. I'll be here every step of the way. I'll be your home." He said as my body once more broke down in tears.

I know there must be somewhere better because he always takes me there. Maybe I've found my home. I think he's my home.

[fatgirlonabicycle]

Road Magic

I’ve been in the USA for about a month now and have just under two months left before I head back to the UK.

There have been some wonderful bits, some difficult bits, and some disconcerting through to downright terrifying moments. Overall, I have met many interested, kind and thoughtful people who have really helped me get through and made this trip much less lonely.

In no particular order, here are some of the many instances of kindness that I’ve encountered in the last few weeks:

John, fellow Brit who was on the same flight to Austin and staying at the same hostel, who walked to an Amazon Locker with me to collect my maps and then had a few beers with, making my first evening in the USA more successful and convivial that I could have hoped.

Fanny, the excitable French taxi driver who got me from the airport to the hostel while telling me all the truck drivers secrets.

Everyone at Bicycle Sports Shop Austin who dealt with me delivering them a mechanical curve ball with absolute grace and whose hard work meant that I headed off on my tour on schedule with a fully functioning bicycle.

The member of staff at the Dairy Queen in Johnson City who gave me a massive ice cream for free. Literal manna from heaven on a hot and difficult second day of cycling.

The friendly old boy I met at the municipal campsite in Fredericksburg who told me it was headwind all the way West. I resented the information… but he was kinda right.

The friendly old boy I met riding into Brackettville who told me that it wasn’t headwind all the way West. I appreciated the information… but he was kinda wrong.

Antonio for buying me a beer in the Camp Wood biker bar. 

The snowbirds of Fort Clark, Brackettville, for inviting me to their Valentine's Day chili cook off. A halfway proper dinner was most appreciated.

Jeanie and Coco, who I met in Seminole Canyon, introduced a different pace to my tour and reminded me that I don’t just have to slog long my planned route day after day. We enjoyed some excellent fireside meals and conversations, and they gave me a lift into Big Bend. If it wasn’t for Jeanie I wouldn’t have visited Big Bend, nor hiked to the Hot Springs and paddled in the Rio Grande. I hope to catch up with them in California before I head back to the UK.

Brandy and Ray who saw me riding into Sanderson after a tough 80 mile day and greeted me with a cold beer and a good chat.

Mike O’Connor, the rancher who insisted on giving me a lift to the next town when he saw me struggling up hill into the driving wind and rain between Sanderson and Marathon.

Maria, my Polish RV mum. She insisted on giving me breakfast on the morning I left Seminole Canyon, gave me a hug and told me “You need a hug everyday.” Bumping into her (twice!) in Big Bend, she came through on her declaration and gave me much needed hugs.

Freddy, a young guy who lives in his car, who used the hostel in Austin once a week to cook a good dinner and have a proper wash and sleep. He kindly invited me to eat a great meal with him and pointed out that the American coins I had brought with me were actually Euros.

Joe Pat Hennon, who I met standing round the fire in the Marathon Motel, and insisted on giving me one of his CDs. (Nevermind I’m on a cycle tour and didn’t know when I’d next be near a CD player. We ended up listening to it in Alpine.)

Lisa, the beautiful Park Ranger at Big Bend National Park, who told me *exactly* where the hills were in the next 30 miles out towards Terlingua and recommended La Kiva for a beer and burger.

The folk at La Kiva, Terlingua,  - especially Dena and Deniro who adopted me and showed me round the ghost town, as well as how to handle the packs of desert dogs - for letting me camp out the back of the bar. I really liked Terlingua, though it's goat head thorns have killed my sleeping mat.

The classic Texan gentleman, complete with cowboy hat, who, remembering me from a previous campground and meeting me again at La Kiva, insisted on buying me a beer.

Chelsea and Sara who let me hitch a lift to Alpine from Terlingua, saving me a gruelling 80 miles of windy desert riding. Who would have thought strapping a bike to a car roof would be such a hilarious challenge.

Betsy in Alpine, as well as Shea and Lyndsey, who let me not only stay with them for a restful long weekend, but let me be part of their cool girl gang. Especially Lyndsey who drove us to the amazing Balmorhea spring - after getting over my trepidation at the overly friendly fish, this is the best swim I’ve had in the US - and for getting me to El Paso the next day.

Kirsty and Erin in El Paso for a good night’s sleep. I’m looking forward to coming back to see them in a few days.

Lisa in Las Cruces who has helped me so much I’m not sure where to begin. Lisa is an amazingly generous and chilled out host, if you are riding the Souther Tier you must send her a message via Warm Showers.

Pilar, who I have decided may actually be a saint. On Wednesday I was attacked by a bunch of farm dogs just outside Hatch. Pilar was the first person to stop and she quickly figured out what to do (call her boss to take me into town in his truck) and prayed for me. And of course her boss, Zane, who turned up so quickly and was the picture of practical concern and helpfulness.

Bill, the retired motorcycle mechanic I met at Percha Dam Campground, who took the time to true my wheel which was wildly out of tension. When the dogs attacked me, they managed to somehow rip a rear pannier from its rack, wedging it between the wheel and rear triangle. I rode to the campground, desperate to continue the tour, but quickly realised my wheel was borked beyond my capability to fix. My first plan was to see if anyone was going to a town with a bike shop, and Bill was the first person I asked.

Eric - another cycle tourist who is staying with Lisa - who borrowed a car and came to get me when I realised I was more shaken and upset by the dog attack that I first wanted to admit, and got me back to Las Cruces.

People like to share horror stories and make fateful predictions. In the same bar that I was bought a beer by Antonio (a young guy of Mexican descent), a woman told me that I was likely to be kidnapped by Mexicans and sold into sex slavery for daring to go so close to the border alone. I’ve been told to get a gun or a man or a whole new plan. There are cartels and rattlesnakes to fear.

The dog attack was terrifying and upsetting, and has caused me to change my plans for the next few weeks. But what I will remember is that when the thing that I’ve openly said I was most fearful about did happen, both strangers and new friends stepped up to help.

There is much I still need to beware of and be careful of on this cycle tour. Being alone in a different country is not a time to be naive. But I honestly believe - half through airy fairy hopefulness and half through actual experience - that people are good and if you need it, they will help you.

This is something Steve, former self confessed hobo and seriously canny cycle tourist I met staying in Las Cruces, calls Road Magic.

I’m removing a few hundred miles of New Mexico and Arizona from my itinerary. Tomorrow I’m heading back to El Paso and then on to the West Coast via train. My plans have changed so much in the last month that I’m uncertain what the next two will hold.But I’m confident that I will encounter enough kindness and Road Magic to outweigh the challenges and difficulties.

The best place to keep up with where I am and what I am up to is Twitter and Instagram.