#I found it difficult to draw the head with the curved horns for some reason

[cinnamon-flame]

Last drawing before artfight starts! It's a vacation Abberation!

[evolutionsvoid]

Sometimes it feels like the world of natural history was built by ancient pranksters who vowed to make life for future researchers as difficult as possible. How else can one explain the utter insanity of naming conventions for both flora and fauna? What else could be the reason for the decades of classification attempts that are foiled at every turn? It seems that every other species I encounter or research has a name that makes zero sense (or is misleading) or its design and makeup makes it impossible to fit into a clear lineage. And let us not even get started on the involvement of magic! It is just a labyrinth of bizarre choices and concepts that baffles me to this day, but I guess it is part of the reason why I even got into this line of work. Maybe if things were so simple and clean, I would not have even gotten interested in this field, so I guess I can't harp on it too much. It provides challenge, intrigue and speculation, which I do enjoy quite a bit, but sometimes one must admit there is silliness in certain things. Like why does one clam species have "duck" in its name, and why is a large turtle called a "bird?" That last question is of course a reference to the Hammer Birds that live upon the arid continent. They are found in deserts and canyons, their very appearance matching the stony, dry imagery of these lands. They spend most of their time either alone or in small groups, with most "flocks" reaching the maximum size of four individuals. They roam across the dry lands in search of vegetation and fruits to graze upon. Hammer Birds are mainly herbivorous, but some have seen them nabbing the occasional lizard or fleeing rodent. Cactus and other plump plants are a favorite dish, as they use their strong beaks to tear out chunks and ward off needles. These same mouth parts are invaluable when it comes to fruits or roots that are not so squishy. Tough rinds and shells are no match for their beaks, and if their jaws don't do the trick, a few hearty headbutts will. Since I mentioned the word "beak" I feel that I should explain why I dislike the name Hammer Birds. If you were to take a look at these creatures, you would indeed see why people call them "birds." They have a beak, a long neck, large legs that would fit a cockatrice and reduced forelimbs that are always seen on flightless birds. With all that in mind, I understand where the misconception came from, but it still is a bit annoying. This is because Hammer Birds are actually more related to tortoises than any bird. You probably noted the large humped shell on their back, which is a staple for this family. Turtles and tortoises also have beak-like mouths, which fits with the maw of the Hammer Bird. So in truth, they should be called "Hammer Turtles" or something like that, but the damage has already been done and the name has already become too ingrained into society. Plus people always have a hard time associating these creatures with tortoises, particularly due to their speed. With long hind legs and a counter weight tail, they can break into sprints of impressive speed. Surely a turtle could never move so fast! All the fables and stories say that tortoises are slow, so they must all be! My irritation aside, Hammer Birds also get their name from their spiky beaks that give the impression of a horn or casque. This sharp curved structure is more like a horn, as it is solid and strong. This is used when it comes to cracking open tough fruits and nuts, as they thrust their heads forward and smash the stubborn morsel to pieces! This action is powered by their necks, which are packed with muscle and are capable of moving at incredible speeds. It is similar to many other turtles, who can stretch their necks out much longer then one would expect! By combining their strength with these tough horns, they can crack open shells or send a foe flying! Obviously such a handy tool can double as a weapon, and the Hammer Birds do not hesitate to use it. When threatened, they will try to run away, but if they are cornered, they can become powerful opponents. Their heads will retract into their shell, protecting their vulnerable necks. As the predators move in, it will aim to keep itself facing towards the foe, waiting for them to come closer. When one takes a step too far, that spiky mace of a face will launch out and deliver a paralyzing blow! The force of this impact can easily break bone, and many foolish folk have stumbled away from an angry Hammer Bird with a bunch of cracked ribs. A strike to the head can knock someone out cold, or just knock them dead, so don't get any funny ideas around this species. If a Hammer Bird has its head retracted and is letting out a warning hiss, move back. Fast.   Their ramming defense also plays a part when it comes to claiming mates. When breeding season rolls around, Hammer Birds will come together to find a potential partner. Males will fight over females, using their horns to knock their opponent around. The aim of the game is to knock the challenger off their feet, which is a sign of strength and superiority. The winner will claim the female, until the next foe approaches. When all is said and done, the female shall lay a clutch of six hard shelled eggs. These nests will be dug out from the hot sand, which will do all the incubating. Even with that, the female shall guard the nest until the young hatch, batting away predators with horn and tail. The resulting young will follow their mother around, gaining protection and food through her presence. Since they don't have the strength to crack open tough fruits, they will leave that work to mom. In time they will part ways, and they shall face the dangers of the desert alone. Hammer Birds are quite well known by many cultures, as their impressive horns and aggressive defenses are hard to miss. Their shells and plates are valued for lightweight armor and shielding. In lands where metal is not in abundance, their tough hides and shells are used instead to craft armor. Their butting heads are a popular image when it comes to weaponry, as many hammers, axes and maces have been crafted in their likeness. As for food, Hammer Birds have proven to be more trouble than what they are worth. Humans, dryads and others have found that taking down one of these beasts is way too risky for the amount of meat one gets. I do recall a while ago that a certain group of farmers were looking to use this species as livestock. In theory, a domesticated Hammer Bird would be much calmer and a lot easier to cull. After several broken bones, multiple concussions and dozens of wrecked fencing, these folk quickly gave up this prospect. Better to stick with Common Cockatrices than these armored, angry beasts. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ----------------------------------------------------------------- It took me a while to post this one, as I realized I should draw an example of what they look like with neck extended. Much procrastination followed, and finally here we are!

[aloepoke]

Chapter 4 - Monster in the Woods

Aloe squeezed herself through the door to her hotel suite. It was true that she had gone to heal her party of two, but that wasn't the only reason she had headed back to the Pokemon Center. Not wasting time, she dumped her bag on her bed and yanked her poncho off. She found herself drenched in sweat from the her chest downwards. Even her hoodie was soaked.

“Oh my goodness... I thought I was going to pass out in there...” Aloe bemoaned as she yanked repeatedly at her baggy shirt to cool down. “I am never entering a greenhouse dressed like this again...”

Aloe grabbed herself an overpriced bottle of water from the complimentary hotel fridge and tore the cap off. She took a long drink of the precious chilled liquid inside to replace her lost fluids. Throwing the empty bottle away, Aloe hurried towards the en-suite bathroom with a towel in one hand and a bottle of moisturiser in the other. Yanking off her clothes and sorting it in to a disorderly pile on the floor, she sat down at the shower.

A common problem for Aloe was that she found herself feeling too warm due to her extra chest weight. It was easy to call the cold, northern areas of Sinnoh home; but any warmer climates would become unbearable to her. This amplified by her preference to dress in thick layered clothings in an attempt to draw less attention to herself.

Aloe rinsed off the excess sweat and then dried herself thoroughly with a towel, then finished off by covering herself in a layer of moisturiser. Keeping dry but soft skin was important for avoiding rashes. Plus, the act of applying moisturiser to herself was enjoyable in its own way. The gentle smell of the herbal mixture tickled her nose, giving her a feeling brimming with satisfaction and cleanliness.

Feeling cooled off, she dried and brushed her hair before attempting to get dressed. The task of heaving her massive bosom in to the confines of her harness-like bras was difficult, but Aloe was an expert. Putting on clean clothes, Aloe hoped that wearing her poncho again would prevent Nita from noticing that she'd changed clothes in the first place.

Gearing up to head back out, Aloe remembered that she had something important to do. Taking out the Pokeballs of her two Pokemon, she released them in front of her. She knelt down to them as best as she could and was met with joyful chirps.

“Hey you two... I'm super proud of you for battling in that Gym” Aloe spoke to them both, praising them for their performance earlier. “Melopii... you did fantastic tearing up the whole gym with your ice attack!” She placed her hand on her Clefairy and stroked its tuft of swirly hair, getting a twitchy eared response.

“And you... Tabun. I know you're not meant to fight, but you've done a really great job these last few days... I can't thank you enough.” Aloe turned towards the Audino and gave her a pet on the head as well. Tabun purred, flicking her poofy tail around with contentedness. Not that she particularly liked the idea of any more battling.

They had only been gone for a day and they'd already ran in to so much action and adventure. Aloe kept praising her Pokemon a few minutes longer before she finally decided to head back out.

Meeting back up with Nita, Aloe found her friend talking to herself. After a brief exchange, the two continued on their task for the day. Following a scenic path that curved around the outskirts of Eterna's forest north of the city. It didn't take long for them to find what they were looking for. An old fashioned looking farm, complete with a big red barn that looked like it came right out of a story book.

A group of various farm Mareep and Flaaffy were taking refuge from the cold weather by hiding inside the red barn. Standing guard diligently outside was proud and warm looking Growlithe. It was like an idyllic scene right out of a storybook that Aloe couldn't help but be humbled by.

The same Growlithe spotted Aloe and Nita walking along, and immediately started barking at them both. Nita was about to open the gate, but hesitated.

“...Oi, that yappy bugger looks vicious... I know we're here t'help someone, but I'm not riskin' being bit by some Growlithe.” Nita complained, looking towards Aloe, who shrugged. Before Nita could complain about anything else, the owner of the farm came rushing out carrying a gun. He was old but grizzled, and sported an impressive beard. He looked around and spotted the two girls at the front gate, still being barked at by his trusty friend.

“Ay!” He called out, “Quit barking, Chief.” The Growlithe immediately complied and scurried over to the old man who was now walking over to the gate. “Aren't you two a colourful looking pair...” the farmer spoke, Aloe's extreme roundness contrasted humorously with Nita's skinny frame, “How can I help you two young ladies? Or are you just here to bother Chief?”

“A-Ah no... we were just--” Aloe didn't want to seem like they were up to no good but she was also nervous in the presence of a weapon.

“I'm fooling you, he barks at his own shadow, bless his heart. But as I asked before, what brings you up this way?” He continued with a cheeky grin as he leaned on the fence, placing down his firearm.

“Well... we're travellers passing through here on behalf of the Eterna City's Gym... there's apparently a problem?” Nita started to explain.

“Travellers huh...what, did the Gym send you? I wanted the Gym Leader- not some kids...” the farmer complained without much regard to his guests, placing his face in to his hands and sighing.

“...Oi-oi! We still might be able to help! What's the problem?” Nita was still confident in their skill. Aloe chose to remain quiet and let the talkative Nita deal with everything.

The old man looked up at them both and rolled his eyes, accepting that something is better than nothing, “Alright then, come this way...” he said as he began to walk along the fence, following it around the corner of his land. Both girls weren't far behind.

They approached a crop field that had been attacked, and then a large hole in the fence. Nita let out an impressed whistle, “I see what yer problem is...” She mentioned while eyeing up the hole and trail of destruction behind it.

“Aye, something broke in. Its been eating my crops and leaving. Can't let it keep doing this or I'll be in trouble.” He explained as the two girls stepped inside using the impromptu hole.

“So... what d'ya 'spose did this?” Nita asked the big question.

“Snorlax.”

“Snorlax?!” Both girls exclaimed at the same time.

Nita shook her head, “A Snorlax is... that's well above our pay-grade mate... you're gonna want a Pokemon Ranger for that!”

“A Pokemon Ranger... that could take days for one to come out. I don't think I have that time.” The farmer responded. If it was a Snorlax, his crops had a three days at most.

“...He has a point, Nita...” Aloe finally spoke up, she looked towards her chirpy friend who was now regretting their decision to come out here.

“Yeah but... I'm not sure how we're meant to deal with a Snorlax.” Nita replied, still not happy with the idea.

“We could try and catch it but... I'm not sure if we're legally allowed to do that...” Aloe suggested a potential plan. Nita shook her head.

“I'm not sure... I'm not gonna like this, but we'll at least check it out... if we can find where the blighter likes to take its naps... well...” Nita tried to think of something they could do, she rubbed her chin.

“It's better than doing nothing at all...!” Aloe answered with an added touch of enthusiasm.

“Look... the worst that can happen is you annoy it. The only time you want to worry about an annoyed Snorlax is if you're between it and its meal.” The farmer spoke as he lightly kicked a broken chunk of fence away from the hole. With a lead and a trail to follow, the girls set off tracking down a Snorlax.

The act of tracking a Snorlax through a forested area was very easy. A trail of trampled bushes, broken trees, and flattened grass were indications that a huge lummox of a Pokemon had been on this path. Aloe typically would have struggled to move through the narrow clusters of trees, but fortunately a path had already been cleared for her. Nita took the lead while Aloe followed behind, who still struggled to keep up with the energy and spry movement of Nita.

“Come on, luv... the thing's going to wake up at the rate you're going!” Nita urged Aloe to keep up, but Aloe was finding it tricky to navigate herself over collapsed trees and entwining plant life, “Look... if that big Pokemon can waddle through here, surely your wide-self shouldn't struggle.”

Aloe looked up and rolled her eyes, “In case you didn't notice... I'm not exactly built for walking like this...” she huffed as she leaned her arm against a tree. The act of walking was a hit or a miss for Aloe. Straight and flat paths were no problem at all, but moving over uneven terrain would tired Aloe out faster and cause her to feel imbalanced.

“Come on, just a bit further, pet. I'll treat you to an ice-cream once we're done!” Nita tried to give some words of encouragement.

Aloe groaned and pushed forwards, starting to move a bit more like a bothered zombie. Who knew being a Pokemon trainer would be such tough work.

As they continued down the trail, they finally came to a clearing in the forest where a plump and proud Snorlax was comatosed with an iconic snore. The creature had likely finished filling itself with food recently and was now sun bathing comfortably. A sight so relaxing it was hard to not want to join in.

Despite her earlier protests, Nita was quick to start inspecting the Pokemon by placing her hand on its plump belly and giving it a slight wobble.

“H-Hey... shouldn't we be careful? This thing is pretty huge and... well...” Aloe protested to Nita's actions.

“It's asleep, Aloe. Not even a fog horn could wake one of these buggers up while they're asleep.” She said, hoisting herself up on to the Pokemon's belly and lying down on it, “Always wanted to do this, I have.”

Aloe wasn't convinced this was safe, she clutched on to Melopii's Pokeball. If it did get angry and attack, the Clefairy's Ice Beam might slow it down. She took a few steps closer to observe the sleeping Pokemon, “So why do you think they're illegal to own..?” Aloe asked, feeling a touch curious about the whole situation.

“Ehhh... I'm no expert, but I don't think they're quite illegal – more you need a permit to own one. It's more illegal to breed them. Can get hit with a hefty fine if you're caught with an unlicensed Munchlax.” Nita answered with the best of her knowledge.

Aloe looked the Pokemon up and down, then walked around to its head to inspect its gaping maw. The chasm it called a mouth looked like it could swallow anything hole. “Must be because of how much they eat... maybe there was a problem with novice trainers getting Munchlaxes and then setting them free once they evolve- I don't think it'd be easy to meet their requirements..!”

“Actually yeah, I think you're right. Good guess my girl!” Nita said, sliding off of the Snorlax's stomach and landing back on her feet, “Maybe you were a Snorlax in a past life. It'd explain those world-class knockers and appetite of yours!”

Aloe frowned and give Nita a light knock to the head in response, “That's mean!”

“I'm just ribbing ya!” Nita said, giving Aloe a sharp poke back, aiming for her bouncy protrusions. Before Aloe could respond, Nita brought them back on track, “So what do you propose we do about your buddy here?”

“I don't think we can beat it... not that would do any good... we could always report back to-” Aloe began to suggest something else before getting cut off by Nita.

“We should catch it! Bring it back to the Gym with us!” Nita suggested, clasping the bottom of her fist. Her face was bright enough that Aloe could almost visualize a comedic light bulb above her head.

“...We can't- no, even if we did, what would we do with it? We can't feed a Snorlax...” Aloe tried to find some sense in the idea.

“Don't gotta! Just hand it over to Gardenia and she'll have to figure it out! Look... if things get sticky, I've got some snacks in my bag I'll toss out to distract it while we leg it!”

“I don't know...”

“Come on Aloe, let's just give it a try. It'd be somethin' to talk about when you get back home.”

Aloe let out her longest sigh yet. “Alright... fine...” she huffed out, she couldn't believe they were going to do this. “What exactly do you want to do?”

Nita opened her bag and reached deep in to it. She yanked out several Ultra Balls and held them out for Aloe, “Me and me 'Puff are gonna wail on it until it wakes up, then she's gonna put it straight back to sleep. When I say so, you need to be ready to toss the ball.”

“Why do I have to throw it?” Aloe said, inspecting the yellow and black patterned Pokeballs.

“Easier I guess. Plus you need some practice.” Nita answered, giving a thumbs up. She took out her only Pokemon's ball and released it with a ray of warm light. Materializing in front of them was her Jigglypuff. “Alright 'Puff. See that biggun there? You need to beat it up until it wakes up, then we need to put it back to sleep. Think you can do that?”

The Jigglypuff nodded instinctively, it wasn't uncommon for Pokemon and their Trainers to be on the same wavelength. Aloe took a few steps back from the Snorlax and finally released Melopii from her ball. The Clefairy looked around and shared a friendly wave with Nita's Jigglypuff, all before it spotted the sleeping Snorlax. She looked back towards Aloe.

“We're going to catch that... Nita and her Jigglypuff are going to weaken it, but I'm going to have you offer backup in case things go wrong.” Aloe explained while kneeling down as best she could in order to see Melopii over her protruding chest. With everyone ready and understanding the plan, there was nothing left to do but go through with it.

Nita hesitated, but then she pointed towards the Snorlax, “Alrighty 'Puff, hit it with a few Double Slaps to butter it up, then finish with a solid Wake-Up Slap to the cheek!”

The Jigglypuff nodded with a high pitched battle-shrill and leaped towards the Snorlax. She unleashed a barrage of 1-2 slaps all over the Pokemon. It grunted in its sleep, the damage seemed to be bothering it. Jigglypuff landed near the Snorlax's head and recoiled backwards momentarily before putting all her effort in to a solid slap straight to the Snorlax's face. Despite the size difference, the Jigglypuff practically slapped the Snorlax up in to the air and on to its feet. The damage it dealt was immense. Looking around, it spotted the the assaulter and didn't wait to respond with a stomping roar.

“Good initiation, 'Puff! Now send it back to sleep!” Nita commanded more, putting great amounts of energy in to her movements.

The Jigglypuff inhaled before it started to sing calming melody. Hearing it made everyone feel drowsy. She aimed the brunt of her attack at the Snorlax, who was now fighting off the temptation of sleep. However, it shook its head and roared again unperturbed. It lurched forward and flattened Jigglypuff with a body slam.

Aloe and her Clefairy both recoiled as the Jigglypuff was flattened, however Nita remained calm. “Okay, I'm gonna need your Melopii to get the Snorlax to move.” Nita asked.

Aloe nodded, “Alright... Melopii, use your Ice Beam on he Snorlax.” The Clefairy started waggling her fingers, and then pointed them both towards the Snorlax. A chilling beam of blue energy was blasted out towards the large Pokemon. Despite this, it didn't seem to bother it in the slightest; the frost that formed in its fur quickly melted away. The Snorlax didn't seem any worse for wear. Aloe shook her head, “Okay, try Metronome then.”

Melopii nodded and returned to wiggling her fingers in the air methodically, storing up her magical energy. When she completed the ritual, a magical pair of ethereal hands materialized in front of the Clefairy. She sent them forwards towards the Snorlax to which they managed to pick up the behemoth. After spinning it up in to the air a few times, the hands released the Snorlax so that it'd slam head first in to the ground. It seemed to do a massive amount of damage.

“Bloody hell! Talk about luck! That musta been a Storm Throw!” Nita called out as her flattened Jigglypuff inflated itself now that it was free. Despite taking two massive hits, the Snorlax was still moving – a testament to its sheer power. “Alright, now I'm feeling lucky! 'Puff, try using your Sing move again!” The Jigglypuff filled up with more air and then let out an even louder Sing attack. The Snorlax pulled itself back to its feet; only for it to fall over again completely asleep. “Great! Now Double-Slap it a few more times. Aloe, get ready with the ball.”

Aloe was ready. She gripped the Ultra Ball in her hand and watched as Nita's Jigglypuff unleashed another volley of aggressive slaps against the sleeping behemoth. Waiting for the right moment, Aloe pulled her arm back and flung it forward, releasing the Ultra Ball from her grasp. Albeit a bit off target, the ball collided with the sleeping Pokemon and absorbed its bulk inside. The ball shook around.

Shake. Shake. Shake...

The Pokeball split open and a great beam of light filled the clearing as the Snorlax was released. Fortunately it was still asleep.

“Bloody... okay, I have an idea. We're gonna use up all our luck for this!” Nita said, “'Puff, use your Wake-Up Slap again, then Aloe, blast it with another Ice Beam when it's riled up!”

Aloe waited, her Clefairy knew what to do. She didn't question Nita at this point and only acted. Once the Jigglypuff punched consciousness back in to the Snorlax, Aloe pointed towards it, “Now!” She called out. The Clefairy wiggled its fingers and hopped up in to the air, she released a freezing beam from her finger tips that struck the Snorlax. It didn't seem to have any effect, but Aloe cheered Melopii on. The Snorlax would gradually slow down enough that the Ice Beam started to entrap it in a thick layer of ice. Before it had a chance to react, the Snorlax was frozen completely solid.

“Right! Ball it!” Nita shouted as she hopped up and down on the spot. Aloe pulled her arm back and threw one of the other Ultra Balls at the frozen giant. It collided with it, and absorbed the entire frozen mass inside.

Shake. Shake. Shake...

Ding! The ball remained shut.

Aloe couldn't believe it at first. Time felt as if it was stood still; as if there was going to be that one extra inevitable shake before the ball split open once more... yet there it was. Aloe locked her gaze with Nita for a moment, who didn't wait to cheer out in victory, “Wa-hoo! We absolutely did it!”

It took a moment, but it finally sunk in for Aloe. “W-Wow... we actually caught it..!” she confirmed it to herself. Nita rushed over and threw herself at Aloe, trying to hug her front on. Although, she ended up more embracing Aloe's front padding rather than anything else. Either way... Aloe didn't mind, it was just a hug. She patted Nita since she couldn't really reach to hug her back. Once Nita released her embrace, Aloe walked over and picked up the Pokeball containing the Snorlax; as well as the broken remains of the other Ultra Ball. Melopii followed behind to inspect their catch. Aloe smiled at her Clefairy, “You did good!”

“Sooo, what'cha gonna call it huh?” Nita spoke up from behind Aloe, leaning around her to take a look at the Pokeball.

“Uhm... nothing?”

“Nothing... that's a funny name- are you trying to tell me you aren't gonna keep it?”

“No... why would I? I can't feed it, I probably can't train it, I don't have a permit...” Aloe started listing various reasons.

“Mmh... alright bab, fair points. Shame though, a big ol' blighter like a Snorlax would'a been good on your team...” Nita felt a bit disappointed, but she agreed after a tiny bit of persuasion.

“At the very least we could give it to Gardenia... maybe she'll give us a reward?”

“I'd bloody hope we were gettin' a reward! Snorlax or not.” Huffed Nita.

“Right... a reward... let's go back to the farm and let the farmer know his crops are safe.” Aloe suggested in the meantime. Nita couldn't disagree, so they headed back to the farm with their Pokemon.

Arriving back at the farm, all it took was an annoyed Growlithe to summon the farmer to their location. He sauntered over this time without his firearm. “Good to see you young ladies back. Find anything out there?”

“You were right, it was a Snorlax; but it'll no longer be an issue for ya!” Nita once again did all the talking, leaving Aloe to look around the farm.

“Of course I was right, I aint never wrong. But how'd deal with it?” The farmer asked, they seemed no worse for wear after a potentially tough fight.

“We caught it with a bit of team work!”

“Caught it? Now that's impressive...” The farmer seemed glad, “I 'spose I owe you a thanks. You have no idea how much you've helped me.”

“No problem! My sidekick and I would be glad to help anyone!” Nita gave a thumbs up and a toothy grin. Aloe looked over at her and shook her head in dismissal.

“Nah, I mean it. Them folks down in the city didn't think it was important, and even if they did they'd have just got a Ranger to come do it – that'd have taken far too long.” The farmer began to explain, “So... I figure I should pay you two back.”

Nita tried to be humble before Aloe could, “Ah- no. It's okay!” But Aloe didn't seem to notice. She nodded along with Nita's statement.

“I insist. I've got this old vardo wagon, about 8 years old but in good condition. Get something to pull it and you're set- granted you're going anywhere.” The farmer explained, “You do some work on the inside, you treat it with respect... it'll take you for miles and miles. I used to use it to make deliveries all over Sinnoh as well as camping.”

Aloe perked up at the idea of a wagon, but she still had to take things slowly, “...It sounds nice but- wont you need it for your farm's business?”

“Me? Nah. I'm upgradin' big style! Got me one of them big pick-up trucks with 5 seats and everythin'! It's right out back in my garage, I could show you.” The farmer practically bragged.

“It's alright but... we don't really need a wagon y'see, we can just walk--” Nita started to dismiss the offer, but then felt a sharp jab in her back. She turned around to see an worryingly serious looking Aloe. She swallowed, and turned back, “W-What I meant to say is we could walk, and we d-don't need it... but a wagon would be nice for a rainy day.”

“That it would! Me and my family used to believe in the old ways quite a lot, but that new truck has some mean air conditioning. Trust me though, this thing will do you well for more than a few rainy days... come on, I'll show you.” The farmer was quick to unlatch the gate and welcome the girls on to his property.

They followed behind him briefly until they had made their way around the main barn. Behind it stood the 10 foot tall carriage. It wasn't ornate like the fancy ones you might see on television, but it still had a nice aesthetic to it. It combined an old timey wooden structure with several modern qualities such as a steel frame, brakes, and some form of water tank with pipes underneath. It definitely had some wear from use, but nothing that would put them off from accepting it.

“B-Bloody hell...” Nita said in a bit of awe, she didn't initially realize what a vardo wagon was, “I thought you meant somethin' like those things you'd pull along when you were a kid but... this makes sense now.”

“Nope! This thing's made for living. It's reliable, sturdy...” the farmer said while banging on the frame of the wagon, “It'll take you for miles without needing any fuel. Would you ladies like to see inside?”

Aloe didn't hesitate to nod. She loved the look of it, it seemed cosy just from the outside. The farmer opened up the two part door and revealed the interior. Aloe climbed up the small steps at the front stuck her head in to inspect the inside. It was a bit snug, but it was definitely made for travel. At the back was a bunk bed; the bottom half being more like an enclosed cabin an the top being open with a window on the wall. Along the right side was a small kotatsu-like table with a padded floor, then a small kitchen area. To the left, an enclosed electric heater, an open space, and then a small seat. Everywhere that there was empty space there was some form of shelf, cupboard, or other storage. All of it combined with the faint smell of wood to create a homely and strangely nostalgic interior. Aloe was already planning in her head how she'd redecorate – a few pillows here, some blankets there, curtains hanging up on the roof, some lighting along the edges...

“Oi!” Aloe felt a quick jab at her big rear, “You gonna stand there gawkin' and blockin' the entrance or are you gonna let me see, pet?” Nita pestered, also interested.

“Right, sorry...” Aloe apologized as she stepped down. Nita wasted no time climbing inside completely to take it all in. “It's all very nice, are you sure you want to give this away?”

“Well... I was planning on selling it. Might have made a fair bit of money too, but I reckon catching that Snorlax has saved me a good chunk of produce. Plus it'd break my heart for some rich folk to come along and just leave it to rot in their garden or something like that. Giving it to you two means it'll get some use – your friend mentioned you were travellers.” The farmer began to explain, as if he already had this speech prepared and practised beforehand.

Aloe quietly nodded along while Nita made a variety of excited noises in the background, “It'll definitely help a lot... but how do we move it?”

“Good question! Around the front there's a driver seat. You'll need something to pull it along. For me, I've used two Rapidash in the past; or a particularly big Tauros. Really, you just need a hardy and strong Pokemon who doesn't mind pulling.”

Aloe thought of their Snorlax. It'd definitely not have any problems pulling the wagon around, but she wasn't going to keep it for very long, “I see... I-- we don't really have a Pokemon suitable for the job, but I'm certain we could figure something out.” She walked to the front of the vardo to see how it was meant to be driven. It had a basic looking driver's seat with an overhanging waterproof canopy. Attached to it was reins intended to be placed on whatever was going to pull the vardo.

The farmer followed Aloe around, “Ah right... I should tell you how this works. This bit here can clip off and be replaced...” he started to explain the basic instructions for getting a Pokemon hooked up, as well as how to use the brakes. Once he got to the end, he changed the subject quickly, “By the way... I've been dying to know...” Aloe felt a looming dread coming over the back of her mind, “Aren't you hot under all those layers of clothes?” The farmer asked.

As intended, her disguise worked. Or really, the thick padding of her winter poncho had tricked the farmer in to thinking she was just wearing lots of layers, “A-Ah no..! I've got uh-... poor blood circulation. It's quite chilly these parts of Sinnoh, isn't it?” She answered.

“Aye right you are missy, I s'pose it does get quite cold this time of year. When you're inside, the heater should do a good job at keeping you warm. Although- don't open it while on the go. That's a fire hazard.” The farmer explained. Aloe nodded attentively to his advice. Eventually they had both gone through the entire tour of the vardo and been instructed on its operation. All there was to do was hand over the paperwork and the keys.

Nita was the one who accepted the paper while Aloe sat down on the small overhanging step at the door of the vardo, “Huh... didn't think this thing was registered...” Nita said as she looked over the papers quickly, “Still a problem guv, we 'aven't got any Pokemon to pull this – at least not yet we don't... how we gonna get it down to the city?”

The farmer rubbed his bushy beard, “Well... I guess I could get it pulled down to the city for you... but from there, you're on your own. Deal?” He offered them a bit of help. Nita nodded accepted, and then the farmer left to fetch a Rapidash.

Once they were left alone, Nita sat down beside Aloe on the step, “Not a bad earnin' if you ask me... I had my doubts at first but this thing seems ace.” She started making conversation.

“...Yeah, it'll definitely help us get to Canalave city, and anywhere in-between.” Aloe answered as she inspected some of the wood at the door.

“Right.” Nita agreed. There was a short moment of silence before she spoke up again, “So uh... why 'aven't you gone inside then?” Nita asked, looking over towards Aloe with suspicion.

“...It's uh, no reason I guess.” Aloe gave her answer. It was not enough to please Nita.

“No reason? I find that hard to believe.” Nita said. She crossed her arms and stood up, “Come on, up you come. Go take a look inside.” Nita offered a hand to Aloe.

“I-It's fine really!” She protested as she was pulled to her feet anyway, not an easy task for Nita.

“Nah! There's something buggin' me, go take a look. Is there a weird smell or something?”

Aloe sighed. She opened the door and poked her head in, and gave a sniff, “...No it smells fine.”

Nita rolled her eyes, “Right. You asked for this.” She warned as she placed her hands on Aloe's back and gave her a shove. Aloe fell forwards and then bounced backwards, causing her to fall on top of Nita and knocking them both to the floor. Aloe rolled off Nita as they both groaned in pain.

“T-Thanks for that...” Aloe said sarcastically, shooting an annoyed glance at Nita.

“...Oooohhhh... I get it now...” Nita responded, brushing herself down. She stood up, and this time offered her hand to Aloe for her to grab instead. Being pulled to her feet, Aloe also gave herself a quick brush with her hands. Nita looked at Aloe's shape and silhouette, then at the door. There was definitely going to be an issue with fitting her unique companion inside. “So... what now?”

“I'm not sure. I could maybe squeeze in but...” Aloe sighed deeply, once again feeling embarrassed by her body.

“Hey, hey! Don't sweat it, we can figure something out, alright luv?” Nita said placing a hand on Aloe's shoulder, she didn't like to see people down. “Could you not just... squeeze yourself in?”

Shaking her head, Aloe answered, “I don't like squeezing in to things... it makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“How about just turning as you go through the door?” Suggested Nita.

Aloe looked at the door, and then felt a bit silly. That might actually work. Without saying anything else, she climbed on to the step and turned on the spot as she went inside. She turned meekly towards Nita, “It's uh... definitely cosy...”

“Haha, just a little! I'm gonna sit up front and get a look at how this thing runs. You take 5, alright?” Nita said. Aloe nodded, and Nita closed the door. Now that she was alone, Aloe became more acquainted with the space around her. It felt a little claustrophobic even. It was definitely large, but the space was still a bit tight for someone like her. It might be a bit awkward living in the vardo with another person.

Aloe sighed, she sat down at the kotatsu and let it take the weight off her chest. At least there was a private place for her to take off her winter poncho without having to worry about prying eyes. She wasn't going to do that right now. She'd wait until they were back at the city.

It felt like a long few minutes before there was any significant sign of life outside. Aloe heard the muffled voices of the farmer and Nita talking. After some distinct clopping noises, the vardo was pulled forward with a sudden jolt as the wheels started to turn.

The ride was bumpy. Aloe could feel her whole being shaking, her breasts felt particularly vulnerable to the movement. It made her uncomfortable. She turned away and shuffled backwards to let her breasts slide off the table to instead rest down on her lap instead. This alleviated her from some of the wobbling sensation. She let out a weary sigh. While the whole vardo felt nice, it was definitely wasn't something made for her. She almost felt stuck.

Aloe shook her head, trying to rid the negativity from the back of her mind, “Positive feelings, Aloe... think happy; feel happy.”

Finally, the vardo came to a stop. Peering out the window, Aloe could see the Pokemon Center. Holding her arms outwards, she stretched while making a tired groan. She felt completely out of energy already, and it wasn't even lunch time. After counting to five, Aloe pulled herself to her feet – the only thing on her mind was food.

[pointy-kitty]

We Can Make It

A Wreck It Ralph Fanfiction from five years ago

Chapter Four

The wind of the racers speeding past nearly threw Make-It off her balance. Turbo swore quite loudly as the others took off without him, but he was hot on their tails not a fraction of a second later.  

Turbo was utterly ruthless. He swerved and ground against the sides of the NPCs cars, directing them harshly off the track. He crashed quite deliberately into another, flipping him clear over and causing him to spin out and spawn back where the impact started. As Make-It flew overhead, she could hear him growling obscenities to himself and the other racers. With a cheerful barrel roll, she lowered to rush along beside his car.

“Ahoy—WOAH!” She barely managed to dodge him trying to run her down. “Watch it, there, buddy. Almost looked like you wanted to hit me!”

“If I had wanted to,” he barked back, “I wouldn’t have missed! If you come near me again, I’ll make you road kill!”

“Nice to see you too,” she grinned and tipped her still-yellow hat to him. “I hope you’re enjoying your practice race.” She picked up the speed to linger just in front of his car, facing him with a cheeky grin. This only prompted him to race even faster.

“YOU HAD BETTER NOT LET ME GET MY HANDS ON YOU,” he looked just about ready to leap out of his seat and tackle her.  

“Oh, calm your bits,” she flipped her brush through the air to produce a big, fluffy, blue blanket, which immediately smacked itself against Turbo’s face. “Crybaby.”

His tires yelled just about as loud as he did as he swerved blindly, clawing at the blanket, having quite a difficult time getting it off his face with the speed that he was going. Make-It took that opportunity to land on the hood of his car, but overestimated her ability to hang on. The momentum flung her right into the driver just as it did the blanket. Both of them yelped and cussed in surprise, but when Turbo had pushed and struggled against her long enough to figure out it was her, his hands immediately flew to her neck.

He was screaming something muffled but obviously profane as he shook her. She squealed and clawed at his hands, landing a solid kick to his side that loosened his grip just enough for her to escape. Flying about ten feet above him, she coughed and spluttered.  

“Gosh,” she wheezed, “should have named YOU Grabby.”

His fingers swiped at the air for a moment, but returned to his wheel when he felt himself spinning out. The other racers were a decent way ahead now, and he was relying purely on memory to see where he was going. Sure enough, he began skidding off track.

“Woah, now,” Make-It swooped down to grab onto his spoiler, “let me help you.”  

He screeched something that sounded very close to “I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!”

Make-It noted their direction that, if left uncorrected, would send them blasting through the walls of Turbo’s mansion. With quick glances at Turbo, the mansion, her own body, and the crowd, she quickly set to work painting every bit of his car that she could reach a rich, lovely pink. She finished off with his helmet and jumpsuit, barely avoiding getting swatted away.  

“Okay, you can look now,” she told him as she grabbed onto the blanket and tore it upwards through the air. Turbo froze for a moment, taking in his suddenly very feminine car and jumpsuit, his place in the race, and his course set straight for the wall, but swerved back onto the track with an enraged and panicked yell. The others were nearly sixty feet ahead of him, and this did not please him in the slightest. Sparks blazed from his bumper as he shifted gears and rocketed forward so quickly that Make-It had trouble keeping up.

“Wait up, there, little buddy!”  

He merely shouted some obscenities in response.

“Wow, there, grumpy. What’s your rating?”

“GET. OFF. MY. TRACK!”

“I’m not ON your track!” She pointed to her feet, grinning and winking. He swore several more times.  

He was gaining on the others with impressive speed, and he would overtake them in a matter of seconds. Make-It knew that she could not keep up with him with just her little rocket shoes. She searched dutifully for another approach to messing with him, and found her answer in the fact that the track was curving. Cutting across the grass to the finish line, she landed, her stance wide.  

This did not go unnoticed to Turbo. The racers were already behind him, and his eyes were fixed on where she was standing. He wanted to mow her down and he did not intend to miss. She took long, deep breaths, the pounding of her heart drowning everything out.  

She crouched, her brush against the track, waiting until the very last chance she had to blast herself backwards, painting a huge puddle of oil as she went, and zipped upwards as quickly as she could.

Turbo cried out in alarm before inevitably driving into the black mass of oil. The sparks from his bumper set the pool ablaze as he passed over it. His traction completely disappeared as his car spun out and went flying down the track, not stopping until he slammed into the side of a bleacher. Some of the black, featureless pixels of the structure shattered and rained down on him. The fans shrieked in panic, but the bleacher did not fall.

Make-It lowered to hover over the flames that he had left behind. The other racers had stopped. Even though the race was over and Turbo had still won, they were all splitting their sides laughing, pounding on their steering wheels and honking their horns. Make-It noted with dismay that Nose had spawned with a healed face and she could no longer tell her partners in crime apart from the others. What she assumed to be one of them gave her a fleeting thumbs up, however.

The fans were whining and wailing in brainless confusion. Turbo sat completely still in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline, his face the epitome of silent rage.

Make-It frowned. For some reason, she did not find it funny anymore. She had no reason to dislike Turbo, or to be on the NPCs’ side, or to even want a trophy. She had come looking for a fun prank, but she was only halfway done and already felt like a jerk.

She hovered over to the pink racer slowly, keeping a safe distance and very carefully coming into his view. His fingers groped the wheel that squeaked under the pressure.

“Uh,” she tried to say something, tried to clear her throat, tried to come up with anything to say, but she drew a complete blank. His eyes darted up to her, pure molten anger and loathing bubbling in his yellow gaze. Her heart twisted. She was definitely in too deep, much deeper than she had intended. They stared at each other, neither blinking, for nearly a minute.  

She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. She knew that she was born with her foot in her mouth and whatever she said would only make it worse. Drawing out her brush, she painted the shape of a shining, golden trophy, and wrote carefully on the plaque, “I’m sorry for being such a cuss.”

Knocking it into existence, she landed and stepped carefully towards him as if she were approaching a landmine. She paused beside him, giving him a fair chance to punch her in the face, and gently placed the trophy in his lap. He did not even glance at it.  

Her hands fidgeted awkwardly at her sides. “Mm. Sorry.”

She took to the air again and zipped back over to the car of the racer that had given her the thumbs up, landing hard on his hood and deliberately putting a dramatic bend in it. He flinched back.

“Wow, sheesh, go on a diet or something—”

“The deal’s off,” she deadpanned. “Keep your worthless trophy.”

Straightening up, she brought her foot harshly against his face, resulting in a sickening crack. He shouted in pain and anger as she hovered backwards, observing his bloodied and broken nose when he pulled his hand away. Soaring dejectedly to the console’s train station, she painted herself back to her normal colors and flew down the tunnel without taking the train.  

“Not my business,” she muttered. “Friggin screw-up. Screwing everyone up.”

Her trip through Game Central Station was uneventful. There were hardly any characters wandering around, as the arcade was just about to open. Without pausing to observe or re-paint anything, she floated into Fix-It Felix Jr.’s station and plopped herself down on the train.  

By the time the first quarter was inserted, Make-It was curled up in her bed, bunched up in several more blankets than she had when the morning started. The building shook as Ralph did his damage and Felix’s sound effects echoed down the out-chute. She stared quietly at the garish and paint-splattered walls, unable to shake the sight of Turbo frozen stiff in his car. Sure, he probably deserved what he got. Maybe. But it was not her business. None of it was even remotely her business.  

And even though she knew that her own business was sticking her nose where it did not belong, she felt terrible. She remembered telling Grabby that she was there of her own free will, that her code was not the reason why she had agreed to prank Turbo. That only made her feel worse.

Running it all through her head and considering it all, though, she had to admit that her code probably had a great deal to do with it. She did not want that trophy. She did not like Nose and Grabby. She did not hate Turbo. She just wanted to cause a ruckus and disrupt the everyday routine, as was her purpose as a character. Despite her code, and despite how hilarious it had been at the time, she was not proud of what she had done. She wanted to go back and fix everything, but she had no idea how.  

She curled up tighter and tried to fall asleep, fighting away the nagging feelings of being a worthless, one-dimensional little pest.

The day passed by for Make-It just as any other might have. None of the gamers entered her combination correctly. Ruckus and mayhem overhead played out like any other background music to her, she had become so accustomed to it. The only difference within this day was that she did not spend the hours repainting everything at least five times and experimenting over what she could manage to create. She trudged around draped in layers of blankets, rolled around lazily on the floor, mushed her face against the walls, and ate tub upon tub of candy. She was quite content to wallow in guilt and negativity for as long as she felt she deserved.

She was face down in a bucket of gummy worms and nearly asleep when she heard the knocking and scratching. It was coming from behind Niceland, in the general area of the shaft that she used to enter her suite. Miniscule amounts of dust and dirt fluttered down with each knock.

“Hello? Mavy? Jimminy jamminy, where’s the door…?”

She took in a deep breath of the sickly sweet gummy worm air and sighed. Poor, sweet Felix was only going to make her feel even guiltier. But she supposed she deserved it.  

“It’s the seventh stone from the left,” she called up. “Just hop on it.”

“Oh. Let’s see here…” he paused in what she could only assume was a moment to count the rocks. “And… seven.”  

She heard him plummet down with an alarmed yelp, step off the stone, and watch it fly back to its place in the garden, but she did not look up from her gelatin grave.  

“Thanks, Ma—Mavy? What are you doing?”

She groaned. The gummy candy was a surprisingly good sound insulator. A hand rested on her back.

“Cuz, did you eat too many treats and get a tummy ache? What’s the matter?”

“Gummy worms are my business,” she grumbled, “and my prime directive.”

“Aw, c’mon now, Mavy, you’re not talkin’ sense,” he lifted her from her sulking and leaned her against a wall. She bundled herself up in her layers and watched the candies fall from her face and into her lap.  

Felix nestled up beside her, putting his hands on his knees. “Now, why the long face?”

“First,” she said, trying to sound more energetic than she was, “can you tell me why you came down here?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized far too sincerely, “isn’t it okay for me to visit my cousin? Plus there’s a teeny something I need to discuss with you, but first I wanna know why you were trying to drown yourself in candy.”

She sighed. “I screwed up, I made a bad decision, I made a mistake and I’m trying to move on.”

“By suffocating yourself in candy...?”

“I could breathe just fine,” she shrugged, eating the gummies from her lap and spluttering when any of them had a hair on it. “I was just punishing myself for being an idiot.”

Felix frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you at all. The Mavy I know would never sit around worrying about one little mistake. She’d pop right back up and make something new, something better. That’s what you do with your art, isn’t it?”

“Well… yes,” she nodded a bit, trying to look at him but to also avoid his gaze, “but this mistake was not art. I messed up someone else in their game for no good reason. I just made someone unhappy and pleased a bunch of bad guys’ code-given desire to see their protagonist fail. It was my first day out of my game and I screwed it up already.” She threw the last gummy worm from her lap across the room in frustration. “And now I can’t even decide exactly WHY I feel bad, because I was just doing what was in my code, but I feel bad in a different part of me, and it’s just so confusing, and I don’t even want to think about it so I’m numbing my brain with gallons of candy!”

Her cousin sat rigid, his fingers raised a bit as if he wanted to touch her but was not sure how.  

She sighed heavily. “Look, Felix, I don’t especially want to talk about it. It just aggravates me. I’ll figure it out eventually. Just… What is it you needed?”

He shifted and cleared his throat. “Well,” he stared at his feet and gave a half-hearted smile, “uh… Turbo came to visit today.”

Make-It’s heart burst into heavy, sinking flames. “…Why?”

“He was… Well, gosh, he was mad. And he was all… pink.”

She frowned, hiding herself in her blankets. “What did he want..?”

“He needed my help,” Felix avoided his cousin’s eyes that time. “He said that his spotlights were broken and one of his bleachers was cracked. His track had also been scorched pretty badly. He said that there was a… uh…” He flinched at the memory, seemingly filtering through his words, “…A… flying yellow girl with a magic paintbrush.”

Make-It whimpered against her knees. “That’s not how he worded it, was it?”

“Um…” Felix twiddled his thumbs. “No.”

The lump of shivering blankets that made up Make-It groaned mournfully.

“But, well, I went and helped him of course, I fixed his spotlights and his bleacher and the track… But I couldn’t fix his suit or his car. It was pink no matter which way I hammered. He seemed pretty put down about that… Uh… So… I don’t know, Mavy, but you might feel better if you… you know, went and fixed that for him. I know that you were the girl with the brush, unless you’ve got a duplicate that I don’t know about.”

“Nope,” she whined, “that was me. The biggest jerk in the arcade.”

“Mavy, no,” he squeezed her shoulders. “Everybody slips up sometimes. But you know what we do? We fix it, and we make it better. Right?”

It was all Make-It could do to not let her emotions leak out everywhere. Taking a deep, calming breath, she leaned the tiniest bit in her cousin’s direction to rest on his shoulder. With another great inhale and much blinking, she nodded briefly.

“Yeah,” he smiled and patted her shoulder. “Now, c’mon,” he stood, pulling her up and pushing the blankets to the floor, tidying up her sticky hair and clothes, and pushing the edges of her mouth up into a smile, “go on and get some closure. You’ll feel better in a jiffy.”

She chanced a look into his eyes and immediately regretted it. He was just so loving, nurturing, and affectionate. It made her feel positively sappy inside.

“Thanks, cuz,” she forced another one of her wobbly smiles reserved only for Felix. He patted her shoulders again and nudged her towards the out-chute. After they had both popped out into the open air, stuck the perfect landing and said their goodbyes, Make-It headed for Game Central Station with her heart pounding in her belly.

[kristablogs]

Leatherworking tips from a modern-day cowgirl

Why have a boring, flat leather belt when you can have one that looks like weathered wood? (Courtesy of Aprille Tomilinson/)

The iconic American cowboy’s style invokes a feeling of ruggedness and free spirit, so it’s no surprise the functional fashion of the wild, wild West is once again trendy in mainstream fashion. Distressed boot-cut jeans, a cowboy hat, and a pair high-end boots make wearers feel like they’re ready to saddle up and work on a ranch—even if they’ve never ridden a horse or touched a cow. Hand-carved handbags and custom-tooled belts are popular accessories for those who long for a day in the saddle, but they’re also part of the everyday attire for working cowboys and competitive riders like myself who like to bring a bit of the frontier into the corporate office space.

But mass-produced leather products aren’t the same as those handcrafted by an artisan. They’ve got a similar look and feel, but often aren’t made with the same high-quality leather and don’t offer the personalization that defines artisan work. So, when it’s time for me to order a new belt or gear for my horse, I go to a skilled leatherworker.

Aprille Tomlinson is exactly that. And as a trained artist who taught herself the craft after buying a horse, she knows the appeal of teaching oneself a new trade. For anyone considering a foray into leatherworking, she has some wisdom to offer.

Home on the range

Tall and thin with a neat blonde braid that hangs down to her waist, Tomlinson looks like she belongs on a ranch out west—especially when she’s riding her golden palomino. Her favorite outfit is a chocolate-colored felt cowboy hat, a long-sleeved purple button-down shirt with pearl snaps and a western yoke adorning her shoulders. Chocolate-colored leg coverings with ivory accents are her favorite piece of cowgirl gear.

Known as chinks, these protect a rider’s legs from brush and bramble, the weather, and a cow’s pointy horns. They’re a shorter variation of chaps that end mid-calf on most riders and are believed to have evolved from the Spanish vaquero leg covering called armitas. These are her favorite because she made them herself.

Tomlinson fits the part of a working cowgirl, but she wasn’t raised on the open prairie; she was born in West Sand Lake, New York—a town with fewer than 3,000 residents that’s about 40 minutes north of Albany, the state capital. She lives in nearby East Nassau on a 12-acre farm, large enough for a few horses.

An elementary school art teacher by day, Tomlinson earned a bachelor’s degree in art education and a master’s in painting and drawing. About five years ago, she was shopping for new horse gear, called tack, and found herself admiring the decorative carvings on the leather.

“I remember thinking: ‘Why can’t I make this myself?’” she says. “My parents are creative and always building things just by looking at a finished piece. It was just a way of life for me and with my art background, I thought, ‘Why not?’”

Leatherworking: the basics

Her workshop is in a spare bedroom at the back of her 1879 farm house, with various work stations set up around the perimeter of the room. There’s one table for dye work and painting, and one oversized wooden desk topped with a granite slab for drawing, carving, and stamping. A long table covered by a rubber mat fills one wall and serves as the cutting and assembly area. An industrial sewing machine sits in one corner and a large rack that nearly fills one wall of the room stores rolls of leather. She’s also created a staging area near her worktable for photographing her work.

But before you go on a shopping spree to fill a room with tools and materials for leatherworking, Tomlinson says it’s important to understand a few basics of the trade:

<b>Make sure your work area is well-lit.</b> The detail and crispness of the carving is what makes a difference in the final quality and working in a dim area makes it hard to make fine cuts.

<b>Start with an inexpensive kit.</b> Well-made tools are expensive. They are worth the investment as you become more skilled, but starting with a cheap kit will give you a chance to learn how to use the tools.

<b>Set up a workspace with a surface</b> that won’t damage your tools when you cut through the leather. Tomlinson uses <a href="https://ift.tt/32sIz0U" target=_blank>a self-healing cutting mat</a> to protect her blades when cutting leather to size. When tooling, she sets a granite slab on top of the work bench for a solid surface to pound against. A plastic kitchen-style cutting board is best for punching holes.

<b>Don’t get discouraged if you don’t have experience</b> with drawing or painting—you can buy ready-made patterns online.

<b>Take your time.</b> Mistakes happen when you rush, and there’s no eraser or undo option.

Leatherworking supplies

Tomlinson says there are eight tools every aspiring leatherworker needs to start:

Utility knife with an interchangeable blade

You’ll use one of these to cut smaller pieces of leather off a hide or to round corners. They’re ideal for leather about 1/16th of an inch thick—5 ounces in leatherworking terms—or less. Leather measurements describe the material’s thickness, and Tomlinson says 1 ounce is equal to about 1/64th of an inch. Other countries measure in millimeters instead of ounces.

Round knife

Also called a head knife, these are used to cut out shapes or trim off pieces of leather.

Swivel knife

Leatherworkers use these to carve designs into leather. Tomilinson says this type of knife tends to feel quite awkward until you get the hang of it. Using one a skill that relies on muscle memory, so you’ll have to train your hand through repetitive work. “Start just using leather scraps and practice creating curved cuts and following lines until you’re comfortable using it,” she says.

Beveler

Simply put, these are used to enhance the edges of a design.

Tomlinson uses a maul to tap the end of a metal stamping tool. Both are pieces of equipment she says every leatherworker should have. (Courtesy of Aprille Tomlinson/)

Maul

Use this tool to tap the top of a beveler or a stamping tool to make impressions in the leather. Mauls come in different weights, ranging from 6 ounces up to 5 pounds, so it’s important to find one you like. Tomlinson prefers a 16-ounce maul and says anything heavier quickly tires her arm. Some people use mallets, but she feels she has more control with a maul.

Mallet

These are made out of rawhide or plastic, and Tomlinson uses one to punch holes and set rivets.

A set of stamps

When hammered into wet leather, these three-dimensional metal blocks leave an impression in the form of either a letter or a geometric design.

An awl and thread

Together, you’ll use these to stitch two pieces of leather together or to add decorative details.

Material selection

Cow hides are a leatherworker’s canvas. Learning the difference between leather types takes a lot of research, and Tomlinson says the project she’s working on dictates which leather she uses. For beginners, she recommends imported leathers, as they’re inexpensive and good to practice on.

Tomlinson mostly uses American vegetable tan leathers for her custom orders, especially when making horse gear, because it needs to be durable. This type of leather is heavy, stiff, and comes in a natural tan color that leatherworkers can dye to their desired hue. She doesn’t have a tannery nearby so she buys it online by the square foot.

Regardless of the brand, leathers are of varying quality, Tomlinson says. All hides are ranked Grade A, B or C, depending on how damaged they are and how many defects are in the most usable (prime) areas or sections most likely to be trimmed off (non-prime). “I’ve found that I’m able to use Grade B for most of my projects and they are a bit more reasonably priced. You can definitely feel the difference in quality when you get to C leather,” she says.

If you’re looking for softer, more flexible leathers that come pre-dyed in a range of colors, you may want to check out the oil tan and glove tan varieties.

Getting to work

Deciding on a design is the first step to any leatherworking project. When Tomlinson makes an item for a client, she first asks if they have a design in mind. Some prefer a traditional leather pattern such as an oak leaf, acorn, or flowers. Others choose something more personal. Once she has a direction, she draws the design on tracing paper. Wax paper works, too.

“When I first start to draw a design, I always start with the flower and build my vine-type lines off that,” she says. “There is a certain flow that needs to be achieved when designing a pattern and that flow needs to be established ahead of time so you know which way each petal should bend, and which direction each vine should travel.”

Aprille Tomlinson on horseback. (Kelsey Morgan Photography/)

Next, she wets both sides of the leather—a process called casing. If the hide is too wet or too dry, it is difficult to get a good, clean, deep cut. To get the perfect moisture content, Tomlinson uses a spray bottle. You could also use a sponge or dip the hide in water and then let it sit.

“When the natural color starts to come back into the leather, that’s usually about the ideal moisture level you are looking for,” she says.

Once the leather is wet, she transfers the design to it by laying transfer paper with the pattern over the wet leather and tracing the lines with a stylus-type tool. The stylus imprints the design into the wet leather, giving her an outline to carve.

“A drawing can be transferred to leather in a number of different ways,” she says. “If you feel comfortable enough, you can just draw directly on the leather with pencil because it erases quite easily.”

The carving process begins with the swivel knife. Tomlinson tries to go about half the thickness of the leather. The deeper you cut, the more dimension you’ll get in your carving, but you obviously don’t want to cut all the way through the hide.

After she’s finished with the main design, she uses the beveler to add depth and dimension. Holding the beveler in her off-hand, she angles the widest part of the edge where she wants to add shading and taps the tool with a maul. Depending on the project, she might also use a stamping tool to add texture.

“Decorative cuts are like the artist’s signature. Every leatherworker develops their own set and style of decorative cuts, and they are added after all the other carving and is done,” she says. “In general, these marks are shallower than the cuts that are being beveled.”

The finishing touches

For Tomlinson, leathermaking is functional art. Each completed piece is worn—either by horse, human, or dog—rather than hung on a wall for display. Beyond the carving and the stamping, she adds her own flair by using an antique gel or acrylic paints to create accents.

“I like to experiment,” she says. “I once carved a mermaid and watered down some acrylic paint to color her hair and tail.”

Antique gel is a popular finish among leatherworkers. It’s a dark brown goo that gets wiped over a carved design, filling in crevices, creating contrast, and giving the carving a 3D look.

“There are so many items that we use on a daily basis that either already are or could be made from leather,” she says. “I have made sandals, rifle scabbards, belts, chaps, and hand bags. My favorite is when I see my work in action… especially when I am at a horse show and see someone ride by in a pair of chaps I made — it’s exciting.”

[scootoaster]

Leatherworking tips from a modern-day cowgirl

Why have a boring, flat leather belt when you can have one that looks like weathered wood? (Courtesy of Aprille Tomilinson/)

The iconic American cowboy’s style invokes a feeling of ruggedness and free spirit, so it’s no surprise the functional fashion of the wild, wild West is once again trendy in mainstream fashion. Distressed boot-cut jeans, a cowboy hat, and a pair high-end boots make wearers feel like they’re ready to saddle up and work on a ranch—even if they’ve never ridden a horse or touched a cow. Hand-carved handbags and custom-tooled belts are popular accessories for those who long for a day in the saddle, but they’re also part of the everyday attire for working cowboys and competitive riders like myself who like to bring a bit of the frontier into the corporate office space.

But mass-produced leather products aren’t the same as those handcrafted by an artisan. They’ve got a similar look and feel, but often aren’t made with the same high-quality leather and don’t offer the personalization that defines artisan work. So, when it’s time for me to order a new belt or gear for my horse, I go to a skilled leatherworker.

Aprille Tomlinson is exactly that. And as a trained artist who taught herself the craft after buying a horse, she knows the appeal of teaching oneself a new trade. For anyone considering a foray into leatherworking, she has some wisdom to offer.

Home on the range

Tall and thin with a neat blonde braid that hangs down to her waist, Tomlinson looks like she belongs on a ranch out west—especially when she’s riding her golden palomino. Her favorite outfit is a chocolate-colored felt cowboy hat, a long-sleeved purple button-down shirt with pearl snaps and a western yoke adorning her shoulders. Chocolate-colored leg coverings with ivory accents are her favorite piece of cowgirl gear.

Known as chinks, these protect a rider’s legs from brush and bramble, the weather, and a cow’s pointy horns. They’re a shorter variation of chaps that end mid-calf on most riders and are believed to have evolved from the Spanish vaquero leg covering called armitas. These are her favorite because she made them herself.

Tomlinson fits the part of a working cowgirl, but she wasn’t raised on the open prairie; she was born in West Sand Lake, New York—a town with fewer than 3,000 residents that’s about 40 minutes north of Albany, the state capital. She lives in nearby East Nassau on a 12-acre farm, large enough for a few horses.

An elementary school art teacher by day, Tomlinson earned a bachelor’s degree in art education and a master’s in painting and drawing. About five years ago, she was shopping for new horse gear, called tack, and found herself admiring the decorative carvings on the leather.

“I remember thinking: ‘Why can’t I make this myself?’” she says. “My parents are creative and always building things just by looking at a finished piece. It was just a way of life for me and with my art background, I thought, ‘Why not?’”

Leatherworking: the basics

Her workshop is in a spare bedroom at the back of her 1879 farm house, with various work stations set up around the perimeter of the room. There’s one table for dye work and painting, and one oversized wooden desk topped with a granite slab for drawing, carving, and stamping. A long table covered by a rubber mat fills one wall and serves as the cutting and assembly area. An industrial sewing machine sits in one corner and a large rack that nearly fills one wall of the room stores rolls of leather. She’s also created a staging area near her worktable for photographing her work.

But before you go on a shopping spree to fill a room with tools and materials for leatherworking, Tomlinson says it’s important to understand a few basics of the trade:

<b>Make sure your work area is well-lit.</b> The detail and crispness of the carving is what makes a difference in the final quality and working in a dim area makes it hard to make fine cuts.

<b>Start with an inexpensive kit.</b> Well-made tools are expensive. They are worth the investment as you become more skilled, but starting with a cheap kit will give you a chance to learn how to use the tools.

<b>Set up a workspace with a surface</b> that won’t damage your tools when you cut through the leather. Tomlinson uses <a href="https://ift.tt/32sIz0U" target=_blank>a self-healing cutting mat</a> to protect her blades when cutting leather to size. When tooling, she sets a granite slab on top of the work bench for a solid surface to pound against. A plastic kitchen-style cutting board is best for punching holes.

<b>Don’t get discouraged if you don’t have experience</b> with drawing or painting—you can buy ready-made patterns online.

<b>Take your time.</b> Mistakes happen when you rush, and there’s no eraser or undo option.

Leatherworking supplies

Tomlinson says there are eight tools every aspiring leatherworker needs to start:

Utility knife with an interchangeable blade

You’ll use one of these to cut smaller pieces of leather off a hide or to round corners. They’re ideal for leather about 1/16th of an inch thick—5 ounces in leatherworking terms—or less. Leather measurements describe the material’s thickness, and Tomlinson says 1 ounce is equal to about 1/64th of an inch. Other countries measure in millimeters instead of ounces.

Round knife

Also called a head knife, these are used to cut out shapes or trim off pieces of leather.

Swivel knife

Leatherworkers use these to carve designs into leather. Tomilinson says this type of knife tends to feel quite awkward until you get the hang of it. Using one a skill that relies on muscle memory, so you’ll have to train your hand through repetitive work. “Start just using leather scraps and practice creating curved cuts and following lines until you’re comfortable using it,” she says.

Beveler

Simply put, these are used to enhance the edges of a design.

Tomlinson uses a maul to tap the end of a metal stamping tool. Both are pieces of equipment she says every leatherworker should have. (Courtesy of Aprille Tomlinson/)

Maul

Use this tool to tap the top of a beveler or a stamping tool to make impressions in the leather. Mauls come in different weights, ranging from 6 ounces up to 5 pounds, so it’s important to find one you like. Tomlinson prefers a 16-ounce maul and says anything heavier quickly tires her arm. Some people use mallets, but she feels she has more control with a maul.

Mallet

These are made out of rawhide or plastic, and Tomlinson uses one to punch holes and set rivets.

A set of stamps

When hammered into wet leather, these three-dimensional metal blocks leave an impression in the form of either a letter or a geometric design.

An awl and thread

Together, you’ll use these to stitch two pieces of leather together or to add decorative details.

Material selection

Cow hides are a leatherworker’s canvas. Learning the difference between leather types takes a lot of research, and Tomlinson says the project she’s working on dictates which leather she uses. For beginners, she recommends imported leathers, as they’re inexpensive and good to practice on.

Tomlinson mostly uses American vegetable tan leathers for her custom orders, especially when making horse gear, because it needs to be durable. This type of leather is heavy, stiff, and comes in a natural tan color that leatherworkers can dye to their desired hue. She doesn’t have a tannery nearby so she buys it online by the square foot.

Regardless of the brand, leathers are of varying quality, Tomlinson says. All hides are ranked Grade A, B or C, depending on how damaged they are and how many defects are in the most usable (prime) areas or sections most likely to be trimmed off (non-prime). “I’ve found that I’m able to use Grade B for most of my projects and they are a bit more reasonably priced. You can definitely feel the difference in quality when you get to C leather,” she says.

If you’re looking for softer, more flexible leathers that come pre-dyed in a range of colors, you may want to check out the oil tan and glove tan varieties.

Getting to work

Deciding on a design is the first step to any leatherworking project. When Tomlinson makes an item for a client, she first asks if they have a design in mind. Some prefer a traditional leather pattern such as an oak leaf, acorn, or flowers. Others choose something more personal. Once she has a direction, she draws the design on tracing paper. Wax paper works, too.

“When I first start to draw a design, I always start with the flower and build my vine-type lines off that,” she says. “There is a certain flow that needs to be achieved when designing a pattern and that flow needs to be established ahead of time so you know which way each petal should bend, and which direction each vine should travel.”

Aprille Tomlinson on horseback. (Kelsey Morgan Photography/)

Next, she wets both sides of the leather—a process called casing. If the hide is too wet or too dry, it is difficult to get a good, clean, deep cut. To get the perfect moisture content, Tomlinson uses a spray bottle. You could also use a sponge or dip the hide in water and then let it sit.

“When the natural color starts to come back into the leather, that’s usually about the ideal moisture level you are looking for,” she says.

Once the leather is wet, she transfers the design to it by laying transfer paper with the pattern over the wet leather and tracing the lines with a stylus-type tool. The stylus imprints the design into the wet leather, giving her an outline to carve.

“A drawing can be transferred to leather in a number of different ways,” she says. “If you feel comfortable enough, you can just draw directly on the leather with pencil because it erases quite easily.”

The carving process begins with the swivel knife. Tomlinson tries to go about half the thickness of the leather. The deeper you cut, the more dimension you’ll get in your carving, but you obviously don’t want to cut all the way through the hide.

After she’s finished with the main design, she uses the beveler to add depth and dimension. Holding the beveler in her off-hand, she angles the widest part of the edge where she wants to add shading and taps the tool with a maul. Depending on the project, she might also use a stamping tool to add texture.

“Decorative cuts are like the artist’s signature. Every leatherworker develops their own set and style of decorative cuts, and they are added after all the other carving and is done,” she says. “In general, these marks are shallower than the cuts that are being beveled.”

The finishing touches

For Tomlinson, leathermaking is functional art. Each completed piece is worn—either by horse, human, or dog—rather than hung on a wall for display. Beyond the carving and the stamping, she adds her own flair by using an antique gel or acrylic paints to create accents.

“I like to experiment,” she says. “I once carved a mermaid and watered down some acrylic paint to color her hair and tail.”

Antique gel is a popular finish among leatherworkers. It’s a dark brown goo that gets wiped over a carved design, filling in crevices, creating contrast, and giving the carving a 3D look.

“There are so many items that we use on a daily basis that either already are or could be made from leather,” she says. “I have made sandals, rifle scabbards, belts, chaps, and hand bags. My favorite is when I see my work in action… especially when I am at a horse show and see someone ride by in a pair of chaps I made — it’s exciting.”

[the-cat-and-her-spider]

Glitter In The Air 5/30/18

     “Have You Ever Fed A Lover With Just Your Hands. Close Your Eyes And Trusted, Just Trusted. Have You Ever Thrown A Fist Full Of Glitter In The Air.”      Soft voices echo through the dark chamber she calls her bedroom. Her TV being the only source of light as the early hours of the morning passed by. She pushes her newly crimson colored hair behind her ear and sighs as her mind races.  Each thought just a reflection of her inner fears. A voice that she’s tried to quiet all her life that just seems to be getting louder day by day. She tries to be strong for others. Tries not to show the everyday wear and tear of fighting these inner battles. But she can feel that her days are numbered. That eventually, this same voice will grow so loud that she can’t hear the others.  She shakes her head and numbly steps out of her bed, turning just slightly. So she can face the mirror on her wall. A simple piece, but that’s how she was, simple. The cool reflective surface was surrounded by dark onyx colored vines.  She smirks as she stares into it.  “Mirror Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all.” She whispered softly, her hand reaching up to touch her reflection.  As soon as her fingertips make contact with the cold glass however, the image starts to ripple. Almost as if she had touched one of Alice’s looking glasses instead. Her once, normal, reflection is now a darker, more sinister looking version of herself. Inside the looking glass, her hair is now a more vibrant shade of red. While her skin lost all of its liveliness and was replaced with a pale grey color. It was her eyes that frightened her the most though. The eyes which most, including herself, considered to be the windows to ones very soul. This creature had eyes a twisted looking lime green color. Almost as if she had the gods paint her eyes using the flames from Loki himself. It was a color she had grown up associating evil, mischief, and mayhem with, the smirk on her reflection’s face just continued to put her on edge. For a brief moment, she considered she was dreaming. But when she closed her eyes and reopened them, the devil woman was still there. Still smirking at her from behind the looking glass.  “You asked the mirror to tell you who the fairest was, and I’m telling you right now…it isn’t you. You’re nothing but a weak and pathetic little human being. Who whines when they don’t get enough attention. Who cries at every little thing. Who puts everyone else’s happiness before your own. You give everyone else power over you, including me. And yet you have the nerve to stand here and ask who the fairest of them all is. You make me sick.” The creature smiles as two lengthy and curved horns appear out of the top of her head. While navy blue flames encased her dark form. Her mechanical laughter fills the room as she sits back down onto her bed, with sobs threatening to break through the surface.

     Have You Ever Hated Yourself For Staring At The Phone, Your Whole Life Waiting On The Ring To Prove You’re Not Alone.    

She grabs fists full of her hair, shaking it violently as she tries to block out the voice. Meanwhile her looking glass counterpart laughs on. The mirror itself seamlessly stretches to the floor, allowing the creature to step forward.  Navy blue flames go from encasing her, to dancing around her horns. Illuminating her in a soft blue glow. With a snap of the creature’s fingers, the dark vines surround her. Elegantly draping around the more intimate parts of the creatures body. She shakes her head as the demon’s hand reaches out and grabs her chin. Forcing her to look back into the terrible green chasms she had for eyes.  The creature smiles at her again. Her pearly white fangs sending shivers down her spine.

“See, I show you the truth. And instead of accepting it and moving on, you’re sitting here crying. This is exactly what I said. When are you going to grow a back bone. You’re so nice all the time, don’t you think it would be better if you let me out to play. Wouldn’t it be more fun to be wicked for just a day.”  

The creature’s claws were starting to pinch under her chin. Drawing a drop of blood, coloring the rest of her nails. She shakes her head free for a moment and pushes her back towards the wall. A small spark being lit inside her.

 “No! That’s where you are wrong. That’s the path that leads to being you and I don’t want to be you. Yes, I’m too nice sometimes. Yes, I see the good in everyone, including the people that hurt me. Yes, I’ll give someone chance after chance after chance. But I also love with all of my being. I will be the best you ever had. If I’m with you, then I’m one hundred percent with you. I don’t see anyone else. I only have eyes for you. I don’t ask for much. I really don’t. This ‘attention’ you say I crave is just the normal amount that you give anyone. Ten seconds, that’s all it takes to let someone know you’re thinking of them. And that’s all I ask. You, you’re just every fear I’ve ever had speaking out. Every person that’s told me they’d stay and haven’t. Every late night just lying in the dark wondering when it all was going to end. You are the one who is nothing. Whose existence doesn’t matter, not me. I’m better than that. I know what I bring to the table. You’re the reason I doubt it somedays. You’re the reason I question things. Your annoying voice just squeaking in my ear all the time. You aren’t going to be able to do that anymore. I’m done with you. I’m done giving you power over me.”

She says as she shoves the creature back into the hellhole looking glass from once it came. Her fist coming with contact with the mirror as she shoved her. Shattering it into a million pieces. And as she shakes her hand free of some glass, she breathes a sigh of relief. As if a small weigh has been lifted off of her shoulders. She reaches over to the table and grabs her phone. A number she knows by heart leaving her fingers as she taps on the screen.

 “Babe, it’s me. I just wanted to call and say I’m sorry. I’m sorry my anxiety is so bad sometimes. That I get into my own head and make things worse. I’m trying to fix it, some days are just harder than most. Especially when it seems like you’ll talk to others before me. And by that I don’t mean you need to talk to me all the time. But when I call, I wish you’d pick up the phone. You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. How much that helps sometimes. I also wanted to thank you. Thank you for being so understanding. Thank you for being there for me through all of this. I know it’s difficult. I know that I can be difficult. But I love you so much for standing by me. I love you, so much. Being with you is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve found my missing puzzle piece. And I hope you feel the same way too. Again, I love you with my entire heart babe, good night.”  

With that she presses the phone against her chest. Her heart still hammering in her chest. But with a smile on her face. She felt so much better after facing her demons. After pouring her heart out. Her one hope now was that she wouldn’t get burned. That this time she gave her heart to the right person.

     There You Are, Sitting In The Garden, Clutching My Coffee Calling Me Sugar. You Called Me Sugar. Have You Ever Wished For An Endless Night. Lasso’s The Moon And Stars And Pulled That Rope Tight. Have You Ever Held Your Breath And Asked Yourself Will It Ever Get Better Than Tonight.

[nickihstn-blog-blog]

Glitter In The Air 05/30/18

Glitter In The Air: Third Person POV       “Have You Ever Fed A Lover With Just Your Hands. Close Your Eyes And Trusted, Just Trusted. Have You Ever Thrown A Fist Full Of Glitter In The Air.”       Soft voices echo through the dark chamber she calls her bedroom. Her TV being the only source of light as the early hours of the morning passed by. She pushes her newly crimson colored hair behind her ear and sighs as her mind races.  Each thought just a reflection of her inner fears. A voice that she’s tried to quiet all her life that just seems to be getting louder day by day. She tries to be strong for others. Tries not to show the everyday wear and tear of fighting these inner battles. But she can feel that her days are numbered. That eventually, this same voice will grow so loud that she can’t hear the others.  She shakes her head and numbly steps out of her bed, turning just slightly. So she can face the mirror on her wall. A simple piece, but that’s how she was, simple. The cool reflective surface was surrounded by dark onyx colored vines.  She smirks as she stares into it.   “Mirror Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all.” She whispered softly, her hand reaching up to touch her reflection.  As soon as her fingertips make contact with the cold glass however, the image starts to ripple. Almost as if she had touched one of Alice’s looking glasses instead. Her once, normal, reflection is now a darker, more sinister looking version of herself. Inside the looking glass, her hair is now a more vibrant shade of red. While her skin lost all of its liveliness and was replaced with a pale grey color. It was her eyes that frightened her the most though. The eyes which most, including herself, considered to be the windows to ones very soul. This creature had eyes a twisted looking lime green color. Almost as if she had the gods paint her eyes using the flames from Loki himself. It was a color she had grown up associating evil, mischief, and mayhem with, the smirk on her reflection’s face just continued to put her on edge. For a brief moment, she considered she was dreaming. But when she closed her eyes and reopened them, the devil woman was still there. Still smirking at her from behind the looking glass.   “You asked the mirror to tell you who the fairest was, and I’m telling you right now…it isn’t you. You’re nothing but a weak and pathetic little human being. Who whines when they don’t get enough attention. Who cries at every little thing. Who puts everyone else’s happiness before your own. You give everyone else power over you, including me. And yet you have the nerve to stand here and ask who the fairest of them all is. You make me sick.” The creature smiles as two lengthy and curved horns appear out of the top of her head. While navy blue flames encased her dark form. Her mechanical laughter fills the room as she sits back down onto her bed, with sobs threatening to break through the surface.

        Have You Ever Hated Yourself For Staring At The Phone, Your Whole Life Waiting On The Ring To Prove You’re Not Alone.      

She grabs fists full of her hair, shaking it violently as she tries to block out the voice. Meanwhile her looking glass counterpart laughs on. The mirror itself seamlessly stretches to the floor, allowing the creature to step forward.  Navy blue flames go from encasing her, to dancing around her horns. Illuminating her in a soft blue glow. With a snap of the creature’s fingers, the dark vines surround her. Elegantly draping around the more intimate parts of the creatures body. She shakes her head as the demon’s hand reaches out and grabs her chin. Forcing her to look back into the terrible green chasms she had for eyes.  The creature smiles at her again. Her pearly white fangs sending shivers down her spine.

“See, I show you the truth. And instead of accepting it and moving on, you’re sitting here crying. This is exactly what I said. When are you going to grow a back bone. You’re so nice all the time, don’t you think it would be better if you let me out to play. Wouldn’t it be more fun to be wicked for just a day.”  

The creature’s claws were starting to pinch under her chin. Drawing a drop of blood, coloring the rest of her nails. She shakes her head free for a moment and pushes her back towards the wall. A small spark being lit inside her.

  “No! That’s where you are wrong. That’s the path that leads to being you and I don’t want to be you. Yes, I’m too nice sometimes. Yes, I see the good in everyone, including the people that hurt me. Yes, I’ll give someone chance after chance after chance. But I also love with all of my being. I will be the best you ever had. If I’m with you, then I’m one hundred percent with you. I don’t see anyone else. I only have eyes for you. I don’t ask for much. I really don’t. This ‘attention’ you say I crave is just the normal amount that you give anyone. Ten seconds, that’s all it takes to let someone know you’re thinking of them. And that’s all I ask. You, you’re just every fear I’ve ever had speaking out. Every person that’s told me they’d stay and haven’t. Every late night just lying in the dark wondering when it all was going to end. You are the one who is nothing. Whose existence doesn’t matter, not me. I’m better than that. I know what I bring to the table. You’re the reason I doubt it somedays. You’re the reason I question things. Your annoying voice just squeaking in my ear all the time. You aren’t going to be able to do that anymore. I’m done with you. I’m done giving you power over me.”

She says as she shoves the creature back into the hellhole looking glass from once it came. Her fist coming with contact with the mirror as she shoved her. Shattering it into a million pieces. And as she shakes her hand free of some glass, she breathes a sigh of relief. As if a small weigh has been lifted off of her shoulders. She reaches over to the table and grabs her phone. A number she knows by heart leaving her fingers as she taps on the screen.

  “Babe, it’s me. I just wanted to call and say I’m sorry. I’m sorry my anxiety is so bad sometimes. That I get into my own head and make things worse. I’m trying to fix it, some days are just harder than most. Especially when it seems like you’ll talk to others before me. And by that I don’t mean you need to talk to me all the time. But when I call, I wish you’d pick up the phone. You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. How much that helps sometimes. I also wanted to thank you. Thank you for being so understanding. Thank you for being there for me through all of this. I know it’s difficult. I know that I can be difficult. But I love you so much for standing by me. I love you, so much. Being with you is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve found my missing puzzle piece. And I hope you feel the same way too. Again, I love you with my entire heart babe, good night.”  

With that she presses the phone against her chest. Her heart still hammering in her chest. But with a smile on her face. She felt so much better after facing her demons. After pouring her heart out. Her one hope now was that she wouldn’t get burned. That this time she gave her heart to the right person.

      There You Are, Sitting In The Garden, Clutching My Coffee Calling Me Sugar. You Called Me Sugar. Have You Ever Wished For An Endless Night. Lasso’s The Moon And Stars And Pulled That Rope Tight. Have You Ever Held Your Breath And Asked Yourself Will It Ever Get Better Than Tonight.