#I am a human kermit flail right now

[always-coffee]

An abundance of joy

It has been a very good writing year for me, as of this moment. I am incredibly grateful. And a bit gobsmacked, honestly.

Being a writer of any sort means a lot of rejection. That kind of thing never makes it into the public realm, for me. I howl in private, to my friends, which is how it should be. Certain things aren’t for public view, and I know how to keep a secret better than most.

That said, I firmly believe that joy is to be shared always. Readily and with abandon, because it’s uplifting. When my friends do cool things, I am elated. When my friends make amazing art, I am delighted. When my friends are their brilliant selves, it is a privilege to witness this.

This month, so far, I have achieved several things. And I am still reeling a bit, because we’re barely two weeks into the year.

Yesterday, I found out that a second poem of mine has been nominated for the Rhysling Award. It’s one that appeared in The Deadlands, and it’s called “Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness.” I don’t often talk about why I write certain poems, because it’s generally irrelevant. If a poem makes someone feel something, I’ve done it right. But this one, I wrote in an effort to understand, and I wanted it to feel like a lighthouse in the dark, at the end. Because we have all, at one point, mourned the living. But that feeling isn’t final. There’s still so much beauty in the world. Grief doesn’t get the last word.

I also recently sold a poem to Uncanny magazine, which you’ll get to read sometime this year. It’s called “The High Priestess Writes a Love Letter to The Magician.” (Are you sensing a tarot theme? Good. You’ve been paying attention. I won’t talk about why I wrote it, but a part of it is a letter love/thank you to the power of words and how the save and help us save ourselves. I’m beyond excited for y’all to read it.

(I also have a poem from Uncanny up for the Rhysling Award, which you can read here, too. It’s called “Knight of Wands, Six of Swords.”)

To round this out, at the beginning of this month, Uncanny published yet another poem of mine. “Six of Swords Becomes The Emperor” is free to read, right now. This one, not unlike The Deadlands poem, is one of strength, even when things seem dark. It’s a reminder that there is power in hope, that we’ve never really helpless. It’s a call, too, to let the past go—it holds no power over you, in this moment.

**clears throat** I feel very lucky. Truly. I have been writing poetry since I was ten. I’m 41. I’ve worked hard and learned with every poem I’ve written, regardless of whether or not it’s been published. The trick is writing well is to write more and to read more. I have an analytical eye now that 23-year-old me did not. I’ve been enjoying playing with form lately to see how it affects rhythm. I look forward to getting even better with every piece.

But at the heart of it all, I am beyond honored. And if you have read my work and liked it, thank you. If you have read more work and shared it, thank you. If you have done a happy dance with me when I’ve had good news, thank you.

[wyrddogs]

Since I’m just taking sports classes right now, my answer will be sports-oriented.

I am looking for someone who is competing at high levels of the sport, and is abreast of current training techniques (aka not still training weave poles using a leash, which was outdated when I started agility over ten years ago). I don’t care what breed(s) the trainer owns, but I do care that they are able to adjust exercises to match the breed, age, temperament, learning style, etc. of both the dog and handler. I like to see a trainer having a lot of experience with off-breeds.

The trainer needs to be better at the sport than I am. Unfortunately that is now a thing that I look for. XD

I want to see how their students perform. Do they have good techniques? Do they communicate with their dogs clearly? Do they have a good relationship with their dogs?

Is the trainer supportive of their students? Do they encourage the students that are struggling? How do they handle it when a student comes to class with outdated ideas, or is belligerent? Do they make student(s) cry in class? What do they do if that happens?

How does the trainer handle size/breed/temperament differences in class? Do they make sure all of the students (dogs and humans) are safe and comfortable? If an incident happens, how do they handle it?

Is the trainer open to their students’ own experiences/thoughts/opinions? One of the several reasons I quit my old nosework class was because she would not leave me alone about hunting with Kermit. At least once a month she would tell me that hunting him would ruin him for nosework because her malinois’ crittering was completely out of control and kept making her NQ at trials. Since I have not been having any of the issues that she was having, this annoyed me a hell of a lot.

Various red flags that make me run the fuck away:

Is the trainer comfortable mocking their students behind their backs to me? Does the trainer tell me how much a particular student or dog sucks? Does the trainer roll their eyes or make exasperated noises when a student is struggling? I had a trainer, about fifteen minutes into auditing his class for the first time, turn to me and mimic shooting himself while a student flailed around in confusion.

Does the trainer engage in unsafe practices? If I say I want to do something differently because my dog is small/has known breed back issues, do they push back and argue?

Does the trainer put their students down or make them feel small? Do they offer criticism without also providing solutions?

Does the trainer seem angry all the time? Do they train while angry? Do they have a lot of machismo? I am looking for specific personality traits that make me feel unsafe. I don’t need the trainer to be sunny and bright and cheerful all the time, or even be a sweetheart (my current agility trainer is a hardass and I love her), but I don’t want alarm bells going off in the back of my head while in class.

And lastly, when I am actually a student:  How do I feel about going to class? The reason I quit my nosework trainer was because I was dreading class every Friday, and was hugely relieved whenever she cancelled. I realized that my feelings were telling me something important, and I quit. Great decision. I’m so much less stressed.

Okay, since dogblr has been pretty active and I have been on a class-taking kick, I have to ask:

What things do you look for in a class/trainer? What things stand out to you? What makes you run for the hills?

I'll go first. I really like trainers who take the time to cater to your individual skills even in a group class, and who give lots of input. Classes that are packed with content are going to have me coming back for more. I hate feeling like I'm standing around entertaining myself a lot or the trainer insists there's only one way to teach something. If a trainer says a student is ruining their dog or tells them they have a bad relationship with their dog, I'm not coming back.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Epilogue: Ja Mata, Friends

I finally finished the Main Story Quest Rewritten Series! Yaaaaay! *Kermit Flail!*

Erii settled down on her knees and opened her little red suitcase. She wrote down on the paper notepad that she was supposed to be going to Korea to start a new life, but you notice that she didn’t pack very much. 

Your body still aches terribly to the point where you wanted to puke. Your eyes rolled with fatigue. But Erii was showing you her things and writing down her words in her way to chat with you even though you could only stare blankly.

You were in the middle of a graveyard of bones. The cooling effect of the broken canister of liquid nitrogen mixed with the spring air and created a dense fog in the Red Well. But you could still see the outlines of ribs, femurs and skulls among the pile of debris. Charred skeletons embraced each other in battle and deadpool remains mixed with human remains. It reminded you of a scene in an ancient fossilized tar pit. Over hundreds or thousands of years, countless animals and people fell into the pit and died together. Archeologists discovered them but their bones were all mixed up.

Erii showed you her Roman shoes, her white strapped shoes, her hairpins, stockings and ribbons all neatly packed. Then she showed you her little toys. Then she showed you her postcards.

“On April 24th, I went to Tokyo Sky Tree with Sakura. The warmest place in the world is on the Sky Tree.”

“On April 26th, I went to Meiji Shrine with Sakura. Someone held a wedding there.”

“On April 25th, I went to the amusement park with Sakura. The haunted house was scary, but with Sakura there it wasn’t so scary.”

You blink sleepily and suppress a yawn to avoid the pain of stretching your bones. “Hmm… at Christmas, I will take you to see Siberia.”

She nods seriously as this is a solemn vow to her.

Erii quietly took out some of her clothes and pressed them against your skin. The battle had ruined the last remnants of your wedding dress. She opened a blouse and slid it on your arms, pausing when you flinched and hissed in pain, only to continue when you relaxed. Then she buttoned up the front for you. She handed you her skirt and slipped it over your body. 

A soft noise, like a stone rolling down a hill made you sit up in alarm. Erii pressed one hand to your shoulder to keep you from standing. She wrote in her notebook. “Sakura is here.”

You blink at an approaching, staggering human shaped shadow in the fog. For a second, you think it’s Z and your heart lifts. In a few more seconds, Lu Mingfei came into view. Erii with her amazing hearing had already sensed his approach. That explained why she had dressed you and covered you up.

The man looked exhausted and soaked to the bone. At the sight of Erii’s wave, he relaxed to near collapse. “You’re here!” He exclaimed.

Lu Mingfei stumbled the rest of the way into her arms. He hugged her tightly and after a long time, he quietly began to cry. You watched them embrace, feeling happy for them at first, and your eyes grow dull.

Chance was gone. Ruri Kazama was gone too. He fell asleep in the mind of Chime and you would never be so greedy as to use the clapper on him to bring him back. Chime was off somewhere with his brother. It was uncertain if you’d ever see him again. Somehow, you’d seen the world, been wooed by the most beautiful men of Tokyo and still had ended up alone with no one to hold you and cry. 

Lu Mingfei had arrived in a black Mercedes and that’s what you took to get out of this place. You fell asleep on your way there.

You woke up days later to an IV in your arm in the comfort of the luxury suite. You stare up at the princess canopy. You’re surprised. How could it be that this place remained untouched throughout the whole disaster? Ruri Kazama knew your room. Perhaps by his fierce order, all the Devil Clan members knew not to destroy the bedroom of his precious love.

“MC…” A familiar voice speaks out of the dimly lit corner. You sit up. 

Renata was sitting next to your bedside. Her long blond hair was down over her bare shoulders. She wore a frilly blue lace top and a light yellow skirt with a white obi belt at her waist. A black knee brace interrupted her silhouette. For a moment you stare silently into each other’s eyes, expressionless. 

“Is there still a bug in this room?” You ask.

“I had Fingel remove it.” She said, standing and sitting next to you on your bed.

You finally wrap your arms around her, rest your head in her chest, and the tears roll down your face. Renata doesn’t cry but the strength in her arms as they hold you, so firm and so tightly, conveys her thoughts. You slept for twenty years and traveled all the way across the world. You’d fought with monsters and devils, gangsters and gods. But you still managed to find each other in the end. In this secret hide away in the dark, you could hold each other again. You press your ear to her chest and listen to that strong heavy heartbeat and hear her breathe in and out. “Renata… I loved you back then.”

“I thought so too. I was too embarrassed to say anything about it. I was afraid of getting in trouble with the nurses. But please. Continue to call me Zero. It’s more than my new identity. It’s who I am now.” She pulled away from you slightly. “Do you know about… him?”

You know she’s talking about Z and you nod. “A little.”

“Please keep it to yourself.” Her eyes were gentle, but her voice held a command. “There are things that are still far beyond that we cannot understand. But if you stay useful to the end, he will not leave you.”

It takes three months for everything to settle and, in the meantime, you stay with the men in Takamagahara Night Club. Your bloodline test returns completely clean and you are installed as a full member of Cassell College.  You don’t tell them how it happened, that you were bitten by the Light King parasite and filled head to toe with its fetal blood. When Erii embraced you, the effect was the same. She bathed in the blood of a young dragon and her bloodline issues resolved. In Caesar’s report, he simply states that your bloodline problems were clerical errors and you were never a dangerous hybrid.

In those months, the club Takamagahara was fully restored. Though Tokyo still lies in ruins, a great final performance has been arranged. You settle in your seat next to Zero and she looks at you and smiles.

The curtain was slowly opened. Caesar’s fingers ran across the keys of a piano, Chu Zihang blew out the first note on the saxophone and the applause rolled over like a tide. The spotlights swayed over them and the banners that read “Love Sakura!” “BasaraKing forever!” and “Sacred Ukyo!”

Zero huffed to your right. “Someone should stand behind Lu Mingfei before he faints.”

Erii sat next to you on your left and held up a sign. “Go Sakura!”

Tonight is his debut show and the farewell show for the three of them. The theme is ``Goodbye, Ikemen Team.” The TV regrettably announced that BasaraKing, Ukyou, and Little Sakura would be returning to the United States due to their expiring contract. Tonight is their last performance. They would also be ending their careers as performers, so this was truly Sayounara.

All the tickets were sold out in advance. Not even VIPs could get a hold of them. Whole bar fixtures were removed to accommodate more guests. The dance floor was full of women, young and old. Everyone was dressed in costumes from shiny sexy short skirts to dignified long black sleeves. In order to ensure safety, the Metropolitan Police Department temporarily activated traffic control measures and everyone had to walk to the Takamagahara.

Apparently, Cassell had pulled some sort of mass brainwashing. All the people who witnessed the raging deadpool in the club suddenly didn’t remember it that way at all. They only remembered you and the boys protecting and helping people during the storm and that was it. Cassell was scarily efficient at hiding the truth of the world from the world.

Lu Mingfei stepped to the microphone and looked at Erii and sang a shaky little “Sayounara.” He picked up the champagne on the piano cover and drank.

You only understand the word Sayounara in the song. It’s all in Japanese. Lu Mingfei might not have the best voice, but he does have the best Japanese of the three. You quickly pick up a handkerchief. “Erii… don’t cry! Come on, you have to give your support! You can still chat over Line tonight.”

There was no more fear that Erii would rage out of control and kill everyone. So she was free to express sad emotions like this. Now her red eyes ran with tears. “I want to go to the US with Sakura.” She wrote.

“And you will! You will! Eventually… Don’t despair okay?”

The best theater speakers in Tokyo were tuned to the use of the Takamagahara. The sound from the subwoofers burst like ten thousand cannons. Caesar’s piano skills were handed down to him from the world’s top masters and flowed into the sound system. Chu Zihang’s saxophone was also very good. The musical emotional refrain climbed higher and higher. And then when the hall seemed to no longer be able to accommodate such surging music, the top of the hall suddenly opened letting in the moon and starlight.

The spring had turned to summer and the warm air of the seaside city flooded in. You look up at the star strewn sky and grin. Your hand tightens on Zero’s hand. “Make a wish.” You whisper.

Caesar got up from the piano and Chu Zihang put down the saxophone. They all walked to Lu Mingfei’s side and the three took each other’s hands and bowed deeply. 

Cries and applause swept the stage like a storm. And the enthusiasm can't be contained. Women rushed the stage to embrace the young men who were leaving but the stage was too high to climb. So they throw roses, thousands of roses until the stage is covered with bright red, pink and white.

“Ukyou! Ukyou! BasaraKing! Basaraking! I love you! Don’t leave!”

It was time for the final rankings of the performers. At this moment, the spotlight suddenly came on to Lu Mingfei. Whale who had lost an arm in the disaster strode onto the stage. “According to Takamagahara practice, whether Little Sakura stays in our warm family depends on one thing - love! That is, your love!” Whale shouted. “Only the flower tickets of your love can get him to stay. So vote for him. Waiter! Please reveal how much love did LIttle Sakura get during his internship?”

A waiter came with an envelope on the platter. Whale tore it open with his teeth and shouted “320 flower tickets!”

“Oh…” You wince. Poor Lu Mingfei. Chu Zihang and Caesar and easily gathered over 900 ticket buyers in a few days. And after months here Lu Mingfei couldn’t gather half that.

But Whale continued. “In addition to the flower tickets purchased before the show, the total is 100,320 flower tickets! Congratulations Little Sakura, you passed the internship period and you are now a member of our Takamagahara club family!”

Whale took a check from his pocket. A projector enlarged the check until it was the whole background of the stage. It was a check for 100 million yen. Lu Mingfei stood in stunned silence. The check was signed by Erii Uesugi.

Erii had stood up at the end of the show but now she held up a new sign with a sad silent face. The sign read clearly. “Sakura, please stay.”

“Oh… Oh Erii…” Your heart was moved by this. You reach out to her.

Zero takes your arm and whispers urgently. “You have to go now. Or else you’ll miss them.”

You hesitate. Erii doesn’t look at you or shift from that spot. Lu Mingfei stares at her over the crowd but the curtain goes down in front of him. Zero is pushing you now and you have to go.

Erii still stands there even though the curtain is down.

Zero drags you out a side entrance to a waiting Alfa Romero Sports car.

“You can comfort her later.” Zero says as she shuts the door of the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“Yeah…” You buckle up and then do a double take. “Since when did you learn how to drive?”

“Since forever ago.” She turned her head and backed out of the alley and sped down the street so fast you were pressed into the leather. 

The helicopter was parked in a large parking lot two blocks away and the eight executive members of the Hydra lined up to send the Cassell team off. After this incident, the Japanese branch was established again, but a new agreement was signed. Anjou gave up his personal control over the branch, though he still holds the highest decision making power.

The last surviving member of the original family was Nanami Sakurai and she was promoted as Minister of Japan and the new acting director of the Executive Bureau. Chisei and his brother were missing in action and assumed dead. But before his disappearance, Chisei had left the leadership to Mrs. Sakurai. Caesar and Anjou spoke to Mrs. Nanami and she was impressed by their words enough to let you have a special internship and training as a White King bloodline operative and you would be handling all matters when it came to the Devil Clan and unstable hybrids.

“These small gifts left by the clan chief are not quite high end,” Crow gave sunscreen in glass bottles to Casear, Anjou, Lu Mingfei, Zero, and Fingel. “They’re his whole collection. He was really serious about going and selling sunscreen.”

“I’ll smear it on the prettiest girl’s back for him.” Caesar said.

“That would make him happy. That’s what he looked forward to the most.” Crow said.

Your heart aches slightly, thinking of Sakura Yabuki. You wondered where Chisei was now. You hoped he managed to find peace somewhere with his brother.

Caesar approached you. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

Your lips curl upward. Then you dip your head and delicately remove your contact lenses. Your eyes are glowing golden, permanently. One didn’t just brush up against the experience of being a dragon king and not be left with some sequelae. “Caesar… Are you going to be alright by yourself?” You ask in a sly voice.

Caesar averts his eyes. “Okay, okay, point taken.”

You replace the contacts in your eyes. “I’m no Caesar Gattuso, but I think I can hold my own here.”

Caesar’s eyes soften. “We’re going to look for him.”

Your smile fades. “Don’t look too hard.” Your chest aches again. “Chime needs time. And so do I.”

Caesar pulls you into a tight hug. You inhale deeply and focus on the bright sweet scent of tobacco. “Don’t forget to text me when you get in. And tell Nono I said hello.”

“I will.”

You approach Lu Mingfei. His eyes are dim and he doesn’t look up. You shake your head. You’re living because of this guy, so you can’t punch him or threaten him too badly. You tap his nose and he looks up at you, looking irritated. 

“Better step up, pretty boy. She went through a lot for you.”

“I know… I... “ Lu Mingfei rubbed the back of his head.

“Don’t say anything! I’m having the hardest time not dragging you back to the Takamagahara right now. It’s 100 mil yen man… come on.” You suddenly hug him tight.

“Ow! Ow! Have you been working out or something? Geez you’re gonna leave a bruise!” He whined.

“Text her.” That’s the last you say to Lu Mingfei.

You approach Chu Zihang. He looked down at you with golden eyes hidden behind black eyed contact lenses. Even now, you didn’t feel particularly close to him, especially not close enough to hug. Chu Zihang was holding a long white wood box that contained Chisei’s swords anyway. He nodded once to you.

“I will be following your progress closely.” He said.

Principal Anjou was blowing out a puff on his cigar as you approached him. He handed you a small white card. “This is your official Cassell Credentials. You’ll be on remote study, but given your performance, you can study at your leisure.”

“Thank you, Principal. I would like to learn Japanese, and how to drive faster than Zero.”

Zero looked up from where she was about to board the helicopter and rolled her eyes at you, but there was a trace of a smile on her lips.

The helicopter took them up into the sky and you watched as its white light disappeared like a shooting star flying into the distance, taking your friends away across the ocean to the United States. 

You turned back to Crow who bowed deeply until he was horizontal. “Mrs. Chief. Forgive my bad English, but your car is ready to go to your new accommodations at the Hydra headquarters in Genji Heavy Industries.”

You grin flashing your white teeth at him. “Arigatou.”

[mindwideopen]

Disclaimer: anyone embarrassed of my cleavage, please bypass this post. Thank you. (Again, repeat this disclaimer out loud, and say it like Steve Martin being his insane yet loving character “ruprecht” in “dirty rotten scoundrels”)

Faux Monty python auditions:

Disclaimer 2: NOT based in reality, because the actual members of Monty python are gentlemen, and are kind. No character assassination intended. My intention for writing this is harmless satire because of my admiration for their group. And, the fact that as women, they are prettier than I am.

(Lights up on a very large board room with a very long table. All of the members of Monty python are sitting in a row, facing Kari.)

Kari: hey! Nice to meet you all! (Shakes their hands) you guys are fantastic! I’m so happy to get the opportunity to audition for you, and be considered for your group.

Monty python: nice to make your acquaintance. (Whispers amongst themselves at the long board table they’re sitting at, evaluating Kari) who is she?! A bird. What kind of bird? I don’t know... let’s analyze... pull up her headshot. A “headshot” is a picture for you people who don’t know what a head shot is. We don’t mean an actual gun shot to the head.

(To Kari) Ok. Let’s...

Kari: let’s what?

Monty python: look at your portfolio of character work.

Kari: I write, mostly, but these are silly pictures of me for fun.

Monty python: we love fun. Quite.

Kari: we have that in common then!

Monty python: quite.

Monty python: no. Ok. You are not a bird. This is not you, is it? No, it can’t be. You are a cat woman. Unusual.

Kari: oh, that’s a filter on Snapchat.

Monty python characters: Snapchat? What’s that?

Kari: it’s an app that makes you into different creatures.

Monty python: what’s an app? Our show is based primarily in the 1970s we think, we have to look it up to be reminded, and haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about. Well, regardless, let’s all pull up a better picture of you, since you are not really a cat. We’re quite sure, yes, quite, that you are a human being, although not sure, so no. Next slide, please! (We’re British, so we’re polite about our requests...)

Monty python: ok, no. In this one, you are a shocked and lacey, bear creature. Are you a biological man?

Kari: no.

Monty python: one of the criteria of joining our group is that you are a man.

Kari: well, I’m not. See the next slide.

Monty python: please discuss something amongst yourself while we confer about you, in front of you.

Kari: ok. (Kari starts talking about ray rayner, and chelveston the duck to herself...)

Monty python: well, we’re not sure why she’s here if she’s not a man. We play all the women in our sketches. Um, also, we hate to bring this up and look naive, but is she writing us? We don’t know. Some of us aren’t even alive, so it’s hard to determine what’s happening in this case, as we’re all speaking the same words at the same time. If she is writing us this is highly irregular, which is a state that we’re used to being in. The words keep coming. Yes, but she never differentiates the difference between one of us, and all... so we sound like a men’s spoken word chorus. Do those exist? They do now, we are it. Who is this insane woman? God only knows...

God: no, I don’t.

Kari: well, I’m done with my conversation with myself, are you guys done as well?

Monty python characters: yes. Quite. ok, well, next slide pleeeeease.

Monty python: oh my.... yes. Not a man. Ahem. Yes. Clearly. Right. Kari, would you please excuse us again, as we need to confab about you yet again.

Kari: ok. (Kari discusses her love of Kurt Russell and Goldie yawn amongst herself. Both national treasures, both not in the movie, “national treasury, or whatever it’s called...)

Monty python: all in favor of her being in our group, say we! Wait! Before we vote, oh. My... (they Hub hub hub hub peas and carrots. Please say the hub hubs and the peas and carrots like all of the characters in the movie “waiting for guffman”.)

Monty python: Kari, We need a moment to discuss you.

Kari: do you want to discuss me, with me?

Terry Gilliam: yes! Absolutely eventually at some point not now no yes. But we need some privacy at this time.

Kari: ok. I need to take a shit. I’ll be back.

(Monty python all sit and analyze this photo. 4 hours later)

Monty python: yes. Quite. ok! Next slide, please.

John Cleese: um, I’m not done. You all proceed. I’ll hang back a bit, because she looks like she could get rough. I will protect us... because she’s evil... I hope.

The rest of Monty python: very well, next slide, please.

Monty python sans the John Cleese cause he went off to shoot his cameo in the “great muppet caper” 40 years ago...: jooooohhhhnnnnn..... she is evil....

John Cleese: on it! (Mumbling to himself but half to us, the reader, which is me only, cause I write for my own amusement) But not, because she’s married and I think I am but I’m not sure, cause she’s writing this, and unaware of my marital status...) I will call, the only ghostbuster she isn’t pissed at right now because he’s dead... and doesn’t ignore her insane writing because he’s unaware or aware that she writes... oh Egon....

Egon Spangler (as portrayed back in the 80s, by Harold Ramis, or, as Kari lovingly refers to him, Hamis.): yes, this is a classic class F case of a “she be piiiiiiiissed” poltergeist, fairly common around these parts as of late, shouldn’t be an issue. I accept rubies (not to be confused with a ruby gem stone) and zorks currency as payment. Payment due up front.

John Cleese: (yelling) well I don’t have a ruby or a zork on me?!? What do you think I am?! The queen or something?!

Queen the band: definitely not.

John Cleese: (yelling and flailing his arms around like Kermit the frog because he idolizes him, and just worked with him, in the great muppet caper, so he’s heavily influenced by his dynamic personality) see?!?! Now how are we supposed to exercise her?!? She’s the devil! She writes insane things not unlike us, but we’re fine because we’re men that dress like women, and that is socially acceptable, but a woman who acts like a man, is not! And she sometimes acts like a black man, and that is doubly not acceptable, not in a way that cancels itself out, but in a way that emphasizes my point profoundly. She MUST be exercised!

Richard Pryor: have you tried walking her around the block after meals?

John Cleese: (still yelling per the ush) what the hell are you talking about??!? Walk her around the block after meals?! I couldn’t get a harness around her if I tried! She’s writing me flailing around like Kermit the frog! The woman must be stopped!!!!!!

Richard Pryor: just a suggestion. You need to relax, Jack, ok? Cause you’re more than a little uptight.

George Carlin: British.

Richard Pryor: ok. Got it.

Carlin: and isn’t it, exorcised?

Richard Pryor: not as funny.

Carlin: ok. got it.

Eric idle, who stands idle to the fact that his last name is also “idol” when said, and also leaves too many questions like others who suffer with the same affliction have... which idol are we discussing? The sun god, Rah? The sacred cow? American?

Eric idle character: oh god.... scene...

God: I love Kari, I do, because she believes I love everyone, so yes, scene is fine.

John Cleese character: yes! Quite.

Egon Spangler: 70 zorks, please. No personal checks.

Svengoolie (not his son, just him): yes. No.... personal.... checks.....

(Kari walks into an empty conference room)

Kari: um, hey guys? Anyone here? Oh well, I feel better now that I’ve pooped!

(Monty python jump out from underneath the long board table)

Monty python: Boo!

Kari: oh! You startled me! Good thing I just pooped!

Monty python: yes, quite. So, here’s the thing; we’ve reviewed your portfolio and you’re brilliant with the exception of a few things.

Kari: what’s that?

Monty python: well, the first thing is that you’re a woman.

Kari: yes, I am. I saw proof of that in the bathroom.

Monty python: ah, yes. The second thing is that according to Wikipedia, a website we have never heard of at the point in which we were in the first picture, let alone the fact that the internet as we know it was not conceived yet either, and all we had were encyclopedia brittanicas, our show ran from 1969–1983, 1989, 1998–1999, 2002, 2013–2014. All years past. You were born, when?

Kari: 1974.

Monty python: ok, now see? We were in full swing at that point in time. You were a bit too, not available for us, and also too much of a woman for us all, and that’s great! Because you’re way more intelligent than we imagined, we can tell by your pictures, and truth be told, we’re more than a little afraid of you, because you write for us, even though some of us have ceased to exist on this celestial plane. And although we enjoyed our time chatting, we are going to have to take a pass.

Kari: that’s ok! It was nice watching you chat about me a bit while I talked to myself. I’m going to get a soy pumpkin spice latte now from Starbucks. Care to join me?

Monty python: no, thank you. As Starbucks isn’t invented, and neither were pumpkin spice lattes.

Kari: ok! Maybe in 2020 after the Covid shit subsides a bit.

Monty python: yes. Quite.

Scene, scene... (whisper this one) scene.

The aforementioned scene was not real, nor was it endorsed by the real Terry Gilliam, Michael Palin, Eric Idle and John Cleese. But, I think terry jones and graham Chapman (who is a chap, and a man, making him a double man, which is very manly indeed, loves me, Kari Keillor, for who I am. Not egoic, but loves herself enough to write still, even its for her own pleasure, and to herself. ❤️)

[the-elemental-sides]

The Elemental Sides: Chapter 2

Urban fantasy AU: The Sides are four spirits trapped in an amulet. When Thomas finds it and puts it on, he gains the powers of the four elements…or that’s what should have happened, but mistakes were made. Now the Sides have to coach him in their respective elements while Thomas deals with both his new powers and his ability to see into the magical realm. Not only is magic real, but there’s some pretty intimidating stuff out there, and only Thomas and the Sides have the power to stop it.

A/N: The newest chapter is here! Again, tHANK YOU for the nice comments and reblogs and likes. It’s all so appreciated!

TAG LIST (!!!!!): @shinylyni, @hissesssss, @vexation-virgil, @madd-catter, @rptheturk, @asofterfan

Previous Chapter

***

The ride back to Thomas’ apartment was silent.

Joan offered to stick around, but Thomas declined politely after swearing to text Joan later just to confirm he was still okay. He watched Joan leave, thinking about how lucky he was to have his friends.

Then it was onto more pressing matters.

Thomas’s eyes darted nervously around his apartment. Those hallucinations...were they watching him?

He touched the crystal amulet, which he still hadn’t taken off. The four colored marbles were dark.

“If there’s anyone in here,” Thomas said loudly, just in case, “I have a very intimidating friend who will curse at you if I don’t text them back!”

“Joan, right?” said a voice. Thomas almost fell over in spite of himself. The first copy was back again. He’d changed his clothes into a sensible dark shirt and tie, and he was wearing glasses...Thomas’s glasses?

Thomas ripped off the necklace and prepared to throw it at him.

“NO NO NO!” he yelled, and suddenly the other two clones were there too, trying to stop him.

“Don’t throw that!” the prince-ish one was saying. “Do NOT let go of that!”

“Stop yelling!” protested Thomas.

“Okay, time-out!” The third one was also wearing Thomas’ glasses, and he’d replaced his cat onesie with a gray sweater on his shoulders. “Indoor voices, now.”

“What’s going on?” asked Thomas.

“Thomas, we are inside that amulet, and we can only come out of it when you’re touching it,” the prince said with forced calm. “We just got done with spending fifteen years in there. Please put it back on.”

Silence. All the copies watched him. Thomas sighed and slipped on the necklace. “I’m gonna need some answers, because I am very confused,” he said.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” said the one with the tie. “My name is L—“

“Wait!” the strangely dad-like one said. “Don’t you want to hide our names with, I don’t know, apt descriptions of our personality, and then reveal our names during suitable moments with a lot of emotional buildup?”

More silence, but this time it was because everyone was just staring at him.

“Point taken!” he concluded. “Hi there! I’m Patton.”

The one in the tie growled a little. “Stealing my thunder, all right, that’s fine. My name is—“

“I am Roman!” the princely one declared with a dramatic hand gesture. “Pleased to meet me, acquaintance?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Of course you are!”

“Ugh! I’m Logan!” Logan scowled. “You guys are always ruining my fun.”

“Wasn’t there a fourth one?” Thomas asked.

“Oh, that’s just Virgil,” Roman said dismissively. “Or, as I like to call him, Ruby Gloom, the Grim Creeper, Raggedy Anxious, An Emo Nightmare—“

“You called?” the fourth copy said, appearing behind Roman, which made him scream and lose his composure.

“You—” Roman fumed. “Ugh! I don’t like you.”

“Isn’t that flattering.” Virgil sidled off to sit on the arm of Thomas’ couch. Thomas noticed that, in addition to a purple-and-black jacket, he had black makeup thickly drawn under his eyes. He looked a little like a raccoon.

“So, uhhhh….” Thomas said. “How did you know my friend’s name?”

“Because we know your memories, Thomas,” Logan said, clearly glad to be back in control of the situation. “You’ve been friends with them for a long time now, right?”

“Yeah….”

“Since you were the one who picked up our amulet, we’re a part of you now,” Roman said. “Or, to put it another way: you are lucky enough to have us around to guide you!”

“Wait, what?”

“So it only makes sense that we know who you are as a person! We have to make sure the right guy found us. Can’t have Dingo Dingus from down the lane stumbling around with my magic powers.”

“Um, again, what??”

“Okay, let’s back up,” said Logan. “In short: yes, we have magical powers. We would like to give you those powers. So we’re just poking around to make sure you can handle them.”

“Me?” Thomas said in shock. “Why me?”

“Because you picked up the amulet, son!” Patton said.

“I—that’s a little weird? I’m not your son?”

“You’re the shining sun in my heart!”

“Try to use them,” Virgil offered.

“Use what, the powers?” Virgil gave him a look that meant ‘well, clearly.’ “Okay, okay. Um, what exactly are they, though?”

“EARTH!” Logan yelled.

“FIRE!” Roman yelled.

After a long pause, Virgil said “Wa—”

“AIR!” screamed Patton, and waved his hands wildly, creating a gust of something bright green that blew across the room and managed to knock over Thomas’ lamp.

“...So that’s what we can do,” Logan said while Thomas picked his furniture back up. “But you? You can use all four of them.”

“Water, earth, fire, air?”

“Correct.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m the Avatar?!!”

“You’re the what now?”

“I’m like Aang from The Last Airbender! Oh my goodness gracious, that’s great!”

“I’m...not following.”

“You know? The show from 2005?”

“We don’t know anything past 2003. We were a little busy being in a crystal.”

“But...how can you not know? It’s like, super popular.”

“We were supposed to be doing Captain Planet, but Virgil got it wrong,” Roman grumped. “Also, we don’t have a Heart.” (Patton, for a second, looked offended.)

“You know what Captain Planet reminds me of?” Thomas said thoughtfully. “That old thing, the Rainforest Rap.”

Logan gasped. “Now what is a rainforest let me tell you—”

Another gust of green wind blew across the room and violently blew Logan’s tie into his face.

“Whoops!” Patton said cheerfully. “I’m still a little airheaded after being out of practice for so long! Hey, why don’t you give it a try, kiddo?”

“Well, okay,” said Thomas. He concentrated, took a deep breath, and flailed his arms in the air like Kermit. Nothing happened except that he looked pretty silly.

“Earth might be more your style.” Logan created an illusory rock from nothing and tossed it at Thomas. It bounced off his chest and dissipated on the floor.

“Fire?” Roman asked.

“No, not in the apartment!”

“Relax! As long as we’re transparent, our attacks are too. Patton’s the only one who can touch anything.” Roman opened his hand and created a thin column of fire. He approached Thomas and carefully placed it in his cupped hands. The second Roman stepped back, it was snuffed out.

“Well, heckity heck.”

Thomas looked at Virgil, who made no move to try anything. “Mine’s not gonna go any better. Look, we should give this up.”

“What’s going on?” Logan asked himself, frustrated. “Skilled or not, you should at least have some grasp of using magic merely by having the amulet. I—Oh no. Thomas, when you put the crystal on, did you feel anything?”

“A little,” Thomas reflected. “It just made me feel really sick and dizzy.”

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Yeah, what, Left Brain?” Roman asked.

“We messed up. We have to have messed up.”

Logan started pacing. He was so nervous that he wasn’t looking where he was going. He walked back and forth straight through the couch and partly into the stairs. “The formulas…” he was muttering. “The compounds, the rituals we all had to perform. It was all perfect. I made sure of it. Who messed it up?” He turned on the other sides. “Who messed it up?”

None of the spirits said anything.

“Virgil?” Logan demanded.

“Why are you looking at me!” Thomas hadn’t seen the fourth spirit emote much, but he was furious when Logan accused him first. He stood up. “I’m sick of this, okay? I thought you’d have learned to treat me better after fifteen years. What happened to sticking up for me, Patton?”

“Hey, kiddo—“

“That’s enough. I’m out.” Virgil vanished. Thomas looked at his crystal just in time to see that the four marbles had been glowing again, and the purple one abruptly went dark.

“There he goes again,” Roman mumbled, but there wasn’t the same snark behind it.

“Can anyone...explain what just happened?”

“It’s not your fault,” Patton said. “But, uh. Logan?”

Logan stared at Thomas. He looked like a very old and tired college professor. “The ritual we used to seal ourselves in the crystal,” he whispered. “We weren’t always spirits, you know. We were human too, fifteen years ago. We were supposed to find someone, make sure they could be trusted with our powers, and move on. But if you got sick, it means our powers didn’t take. We’re trapped here. We messed up.”

“Logan…” Patton said.

“I worked so hard,” said Logan. Then he vanished.

“It’s not that bad, right?” Thomas asked Patton and Roman feebly. “If I learn your powers, the problem is solved, isn’t it?”

“It’s not just that,” Roman said darkly. “It’s...oh, never mind, Thomas. Look, we never finished the background check. We’ll go in the crystal, and, you know, confirm you’re all right to hand off our powers to. If you’re even capable.”

“Are you okay going back in the crystal?”

“Oh, yeah,” Roman said. “As long as you’re in contact with it, it’s not what it used to be. There’s a pretty sweet mind palace in the place now. Virgil’s already built his own room.”

“Don’t worry too much, okay, sport?” asked Patton as Roman gave Thomas a tired wave and disappeared. “Logan’s always stressed when he hasn’t had his jam fix in a while.”

“Is everything okay?” Thomas asked.

“It’s fine!” Patton was smiling as he always was, but Thomas couldn’t deny that he looked worried in his own way. “We made our own crystally beds long ago, and now we’re lying in ‘em. We’ll talk to you later, all right, Thom-O? Text your friends.”

“If you say so.”

“Would your ol’ pops lie to you?” Patton asked confidently. But before he vanished like all the others, Thomas thought he saw a flash of guilt.

***

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