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toomanysurveys9 · 2 years ago

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I miss doing surveys.

Is there anything you dislike about your house?

I don’t like that it is starting to fall apart because there is way too many people living in it than there should be.

Would you permanently remove your pubic hair or would you be cautious in case pubic hair comes back “in” fashion?

I would not permanently remove my pubic hair. I really don’t enjoy shaving although there is so much pressure to, especially if you’re in a relationship. But I am an adult. I LOOK like an adult. And that should be more acceptable. Besides, shaving is way too much work.

What do you like to put on bagels?

I usually do cream cheese.

To what extent would you consider yourself to be an online “stalker”?

I don’t think I am at all.

Hypothetically, if you were still a virgin at the age of 40, do you think you’d just go out and have sex with anyone or would you still want to wait for someone special?

We’re going to pretend I got to choose when to lose my virginity... if it WERE my choice, I would wait for someone special.

What TV show would you recommend other survey-takers to start watching?

Eh. Depends what they like to watch. My viewing choices tend to be all over the place though so I could probably recommend something.

What do you think of restaurants with topless waiters? Do you think this is inappropriate/unhygienic?

Not something I am into visiting or working at, but it’s also not my place to say that others can’t work there or enjoy going. Just don’t be a shit human.

What’s your opinion on eating your own placenta after giving birth? Do you think you would?

None of my business, but it is not something that I did with any of my three children, nor would I personally want to.

Have you ever found mice or rats in your house?

I have two pet rats. We did have mice, but our cats and pest control handled it.

What do you think of “teacup” or miniature pigs?

They’re cute.

Have you ever seen your parents drunk? What was your reaction?

My mom, plenty of times. The first time, I was in high school and had to pick her up from the bar because my dad was across the country for work. I had to miss school the next day too, but she took me out for breakfast. My dad has never been drunk. He’s sipped alcohol once and hated it.

What’s your biggest body worry when you wear a bikini? (Being too pale, cellulite etc.)

Scars and fat. After having three babies... my body is a disaster.

Do you cringe when people call sex “making love”?

Nope.

1 - What are some of your favourite scents/smells?

Baby shampoo/soap. Lilac. Vanilla. Coffee shops.

2 - Do you enjoy watching murder mystery/crime programmes? Do you prefer fictional shows or ones based on real-life cases?

I do, unfortunately. Lol. I tend to watch fictional ones. The real-life cases mess me up.

3 - What was the last parcel you received in the mail? Was it something you ordered yourself or was it a gift?

I’ve ordered so many gifts off Amazon the past few weeks due to Christmas. The last thing I received were gifts for my Secret Santa and my dad.

4 - Is there anyone you send e-mails to on a regular basis?

Nope.

5 - What's your favourite colour combination? Are any rooms in your house decorated in that particular scheme?

Bright colors and black. Blue and black. Really anything with black. No.

6 - Do you prefer white, milk or dark chocolate? What about flavoured chocolate?

I prefer milk chocolate, and I am generally not a huge fan of flavored chocolate, although some is okay.

7 - What was the last reason for you leaving the room you're currently in?

I went downstairs to get medicine and go to the bathroom, because I was originally planning on going to sleep, but I really miss doing surveys so I decided to do one before bed. Even though I should definitely be doing homework if I was going to stay up. Lol.

8 - How many surveys have you taken so far today? Do you have any plans to take more after this one?

This is my first one in a very long time. I should probably go to bed after this one, but I might do one more. After my assignments tomorrow I’ll be on break from school for a couple weeks so I’ll probably do some more over the next couple weeks at least.

9 - If you eat it, what type of meat is your favourite? If you're vegetarian/vegan, do you like meat substitutes like quorn or tofu?

Probably chicken. I’m boring.

10 - What was the last thing you looked up on Google?

Uh, Google chrome so I could download it.

11 - What's the next major holiday coming up for you? Do you have any interesting plans?

Christmas. No interesting plans. The 23rd I have work all day and then a Christmas party for 4 hours. Then we’re doing our family Christmas on Christmas Eve this year because my brother works Christmas day (he started a new job as an EMT) and I give my littles their Christmas eve boxes. Christmas day we will probably celebrate with Jacob’s side of the family.

12 - Do you live in an area where masks are compulsory in order to enter shops?

Masks are not required hardly anywhere anymore. Although my work has started requiring them again last week due to so much illness, such as COVID and the flu.

13 - Did you wear any kind of uniform to school? If so, describe it. If not, did you at least have some kind of dress code to follow?

We did not have a uniform and the dress code was basically “girls are not allowed to show any skin and are also not allowed to look like girls.”

14 - Is there anything unusual or out of the ordinary in the room you're currently in?

It’s a disaster. I have a couple mountains of laundry to put away while I am on break from work and school next week.

15 - Who was the last person you spoke to via Messenger, if you have it?

Probably our family chat.

16 - Have you ever been badly sunburned? What did you do in order to make it less painful afterwards?

Yeah. A lot of aloe.

17 - When was the last time you went swimming in the sea? Do you prefer swimming in the sea or in a pool?

September of this year when we went to Texas to pick up my brother. I prefer pools these days. Oceans and lakes make me nervous since having kids and I’m always too anxious about them to enjoy it. I am in pools too, but it seems a lot easier to get to them quickly in those.

18 - What's something you need to buy in the near future? Are you waiting until you get paid to buy it?

More Christmas gifts for a couple people on Jake’s side of the family. Kind of. We’ve spent so much on so many people.

19 - What have you eaten so far today? Do you have plans to eat anything else before you go to bed?

Today I actually ate too much instead of not enough. I had half an omelet and toast for breakfast, and then an 8 oz steak, loaded mashed potatoes, and house salad from Texas Roadhouse for dinner.

20 - Do you parents still buy you Easter eggs even though you're fully grown?

No, but she does get each of us kids a Christmas gift even though we tell her that it is fine.

21 - The last time you were in a car, where were you going and what were you doing there?

I had to drive to the store to get some floor cleaning stuff.

22 - Do your parents have any opinions that you consider to be old-fashioned or odd?

Oof, yes. They have a lot, to be honest. Like my mom thinks that Jacob should be the main source of income for our family, so she doesn’t like that I am the one that makes more an hour. I could go on for hours.

23 - What time did you get out of bed this morning? Is that normal for you?

It was about 9:30 this morning, which is sleeping in for me. During the week, I usually have to be up by 6 AM because I have to get myself and Wyatt (he’s in kindergarten now) up and ready before everyone else starts waking up. And then I had to leave early because I was picking up a couple other little boys for school, but I’m not going to be doing that anymore. I’ll just be taking Wyatt to school and then going to work myself when he goes back after Christmas break. But usually the kids are up by 7:30-8 if I’m not waking Wyatt up at 6.

24 - What normal things do you miss the most since COVID hit?

For the most part, people have gone back to normal I guess where I live. Even though we have ungodly amounts of flu AND COVID AND RSV happening right now.

25 - What style of jeans/trousers are your favourite?

Skinny jeans I guess although I prefer leggings.

26 - Does it bother you when you recognise an actor but can't remember what else you've seen them in?

Nah.

27 - Are you generally more introverted or extroverted? Does this have a negative impact on you in any way?

Introverted for sure. It’s made it a lot harder to make friends I feel like and people are quicker to make assumptions about me.

28 - If you were on Mastermind (a UK quiz show where you need in-depth knowledge of a certain subject), what would your preferred topic be?

Either young adult fantasy books, Stephanie Plum novels, or marriage and family therapy.

29 - What's your favourite flavour of cookie? Have you ever tried those cookies that are stuffed with things like brownies or cheesecake?

Chocolate chip or M&M cookies. I have not tried those cookies.

30 - When was the last time you tried out a new recipe? Did it work out as well as you hoped?

Friday night for dinner. I made slow cooker chicken burrito bowls. It was pretty underwhelming for me, but everyone else seemed to enjoy it. I felt like it was just a lot of mush I guess.

#survey #surveys #personal #question #questions #random

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paulinedorchester · 4 years ago

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Hodgson, Vere. Few Eggs and No Oranges: A Diary Showing How Unimportant People in London and Birmingham Lived Through the War Years 1940-1945, Written in the Notting Hill Area of London. London: Dennis Dobson, 1976. Reprint (as Few Eggs and No Oranges: The Diaries of Vere Hodgson 1940-45), with a new preface by Jenny Hartley, London: Persephone Books, 1999.

Winifred Vere Hodgson (1901-1979) was born in Edgbaston, Birmingham, into what seem to have been shabby-genteel circumstances. On the one hand, after her father’s death in 1907 her mother was obliged to run the family home as a boarding house in order to make ends meet; on the other, she was educated at King Edward VI High School for Girls before reading history at the University of Birmingham. She was a niece of Thomas Vere Hodgson, the marine biologist on the H.M.S. Discovery during its voyage of 1904-6.

After graduating, she taught for several years at – wait for it – L’Istituto Statale della Ss. Annunziata, Florence, Italy, where – wait for it again – Edda Mussolini was among her pupils, and then for several more years at schools in (apparently – I’m a bit confused about this) Folkestone and Wimbledon. Deciding on a complete change, in 1935 she answered a “positions available” advertisement placed by a philanthropic body. Thus began her career as a social welfare worker, which seems to have been deemed important enough to have kept her from conscription during the war.

The organization for which Hodgson worked, the Greater World Christian Spiritualist Association, was located at 3 Lansdowne Road – still standing, this building was referred to at that time as The Sanctuary – and served primarily the Notting Hill and Holland Park areas, both of which seem to have been pretty down-at-heel at the time. They operated a night shelter for homeless women and gave grants of money and needed goods to the poor. (The Greater World, as its staff called it, doesn’t seem to me to fit the definition of a cult, so I’ll refrain from making any value judgements; you can read more about it here and here. It is still active.)

Hodgson’s job involved a good deal of secretarial and clerical work, but she also worked directly with the association’s beneficiaries as well as making nice with its benefactors. She often spent nights at The Sanctuary, either to be present for the women sheltering there or, once the war began, to take her turn as a fire-watcher. Although in her diary she always expresses gratitude for any free time she had, the job clearly brought her a great deal of satisfaction:

Went to see one of my poor old souls today. She has been getting a bit of chair-mending to do, and was better. She dreads the winter – as last year she was compelled to beg in the streets; but now we shall help her. The dread of complete destitution is terrible.

Like Clara Milburn, another wartime diarist whose output was published in the 1970s, Hodgson wasn’t writing primarily for her own benefit. Mrs. Milburn kept her diary with an eye to creating a record of the home front for her son, Alan, an officer in the British Expeditionary Force who was taken prisoner in Belgium in 1940. Miss Hodgson initially wrote for a cousin, Lucy Hodgson, who when the war began was in England on sabbatical from her job as an education officer in what was then known – to some people, at least – as Northern Rhodesia, and returned there in the Spring of 1940 “with grave misgivings,” according to Vere Hodgson’s introduction to the book.

Hodgson began sending installments of the diary to Lucy, who returned them to her and also sent parcels of cheese, tea, and other rationed foods. At some point Vere began mailing the pages to a round-robin of friends and relations, the last of whom would then send them on to Africa. (Amazingly, only one installment went missing.) Another thing that Hodgson’s diary has in common with Milburn’s is that she didn’t actually use printed diaries, allowing her to write very long entries at times.

The diary first came to public attention when Hodgson answered another advertisement, this one from the journalist Leonard Mosely, who was looking for first-hand accounts of life in wartime London as source material for his 1971 book Backs to the Wall (which is clearly something that I need to read). He quoted her entries for September 3rd, 1939, and May 7th, 1940. This resulted in a request from the publisher Dennis Dobson that Hodgson prepare an edition of her wartime diary as a whole. According to a publisher’s note in the Persephone reprint, “This she did, cutting by about three-quarters and editing substantially.” Since the reprint runs to 590 pages, one has to wonder what the original was like!

Few Eggs and No Oranges begins on June 25th, 1940, with the announcement that “Last night at about 1 a.m. we had the first raid of the war on London.” Air raids were at the very center of Hodgson’s war. She details, blow by blow, each and every raid and alert that she experienced. Indeed, she offers so much granular information on raids – where bombs fell, how many people were killed, etc. – and other topics that British newspapers weren’t permitted to discuss in any detail that it’s a wonder that the diary was never censored on its way out of the country. (At one point she reports that the censor returned to her a letter that she’d sent to a friend in Canada, so clearly this was something that really did happen! At the same time, she records many major events of the war all over the globe, seeming to assume that Lucy won’t have heard or read about them and leaving me wondering whether Northern Rhodesia can really have been that isolated by 1939.) Her preoccupation may have had something to do with the fact that she always found herself living on a building’s topmost floor: when the war began she was renting a room in a boarding house at 56 Ladbroke Road; in October, 1941 to her great delight, she moved to a “flatlet” across the street at 79 Ladbroke Road, the process of furnishing which she recounts with relish. Among other advantages, this allowed her to shelter friends who needed it: one of her friends was bombed out three times over the course of the war. To be sure, Hodgson did develop a good deal of sang-froid: “Very blitzy indeed last night,” she remarks off-handedly on January 10th, 1941.

When bombs weren’t falling, Hodgson simply recorded everyday life, often hilariously:

Spoke my mind to the cat. It is disgraceful that all the Cats have joined some sort of Pacifist Organization. To keep a cat in these awful days of food scarcity, and then have to catch the mice yourself, is a bit thick. I explained this to our animal.

As you might guess from the book’s title, food was another of Hodgson’s central preoccupations. There seem to be two conflicting narratives about food rationing in the U.K. during and after World War II. One is that pre-war Britons were overfed on a fatty, starchy diet, and that the nation’s overall health improved as a result of rationing. The other is that rationing was not only damaging to the nation’s morale, but led to widespread borderline malnutrition. Hodgson was inclined to the latter view. She repeatedly details all of the edibles she’s having to do without (fresh fruit was a major lack), either because they’re simply unavailable or, in the case of unrationed goods, because their prices have skyrocketed. On the other hand, she takes great joy in her own and other people’s ability to make whatever food could be had go further. (She writes about her Auntie Nell’s jam-making activities with obvious pride.) And whenever she had a windfall she was happy to share it.

And about those windfalls: Hodgson gleefully records each of the “gifts” of extra food she received from retailers – which included oranges that only children were supposed to get – and items bought from roadside vendors on trips out of London. It’s really quite shocking how common fiddling the system seems to have been, and how unrepentant people were about doing it:

Went for my bacon ration and while he was cutting it had a word with the man about the Cubic Inch of Cheese. He got rid of the other customers and then whispered, ‘Wait a mo’.’ I found half a pound of cheese being thrust into my bag with great secrecy and speed!

Then going to the Dairy for my butter ration I was given four eggs and a quarter of cheese!

Despite the housing and food problems she and her friends and neighbors had, Hodgson seems to have enjoyed a lively social life throughout the war, with neighbors, co-workers, former pupils, visiting relatives, and complete strangers she encountered over lunch at the Mercury Café. She saw plays at the Mercury Theatre and wrote about them as well as the films she saw. (She seems to have had no objection to American adaptations of British literature – How Green Was My Valley was a favorite – but did complain that American films were too fast-paced for her liking.)

Hodgson’s answer to the iconic question “Is Your Journey Really Necessary?” was nearly always an emphatic “Yes!” Throughout the war she made frequent trips to Birmingham to see her mother and sister (there, too, she recounted air raids and the damage they caused); to Brede, Sussex, where two more aunts lived; and occasionally to other places in search of fresh air, quiet, and a change of pace. Although she makes note of the bad travelling conditions that she often endured, she almost always persevered.

Her politics are difficult to pin down. She idolized Winston Churchill (“The bravest of us all!”), even though his policies led to the internment of a close friend, and on weekdays she read The Daily Telegraph. But on Sundays she read The Observer and The People, and once Germany invaded the Soviet Union she became a great fan of the Russians. Hodgson was also enthusiastic about Americans: she expresses equal admiration for Roosevelt and his 1940 opponent, Wendell Wilkie, and remarked that “Really the Americans seem to give the best Postscripts,” after hearing one from Dorothy Thompson in August 1941. (She seems never to have actually met any Americans, however.)

On religion, too, she is very vague. She greatly admired the altruism and sheer energy of Winifred Moyes, the founder of the Greater World Christian Spiritualist Association, and at least in the published version of her diary she never criticizes Moyes’s Spiritualist “meetings,” but neither does she ever seem to have attended one. She appears to have been only an occasional church-goer, more often listening to broadcast services. However, she did regularly read her horoscope, as well as Edward Lyndoe’s predictions in The People, and was irritated by a Mass-Observation report that disapproved of the finding that 40% of the British public had some degree of interest in astrology.

A couple of aspects of Few Eggs and No Oranges did make me uncomfortable. One is Hodgson’s enthusiasm for what could be called “air-raid tourism”: as soon as possible after learning where bombs had fallen during a recent raid she went to have a look at the damage, telling her readers about what she saw. This seems to have been a popular pastime, as she rarely seems to have been alone in her rubbernecking. People probably wanted to be reassured that others were worse off than they were, which is understandable but doesn’t make the behavior any less creepy.

And then there are the bits that brought me right up against the limits of my Anglophilia. On several occasions Hodgson mentions off-handedly, and for no apparent reason, that someone she encounters is Jewish: “Met Ivy [Croucher, an actress and elocution teacher; she’s the one who was made homeless three times] coming back from her lunch at the Grosvenor with her Jewish pupil.” Later, during a visit to Birmingham, she notes that she “got four [oranges] from a Jewish trader by spinning him a yarn.”

What exactly is the point? Did she enjoy inducing the produce vendor into actions that could easily have landed him in court? How did she even know that either of these people were Jewish? The distinctive dress of those now known in the U.K. as the strictly Orthodox would have been a rare sight at the time, especially away from London; and if Crompton’s pupil was eating at the Grosvenor Hotel, as is implied, then he or she can hardly have been Orthodox at all. And then there’s this:

Went to see The [Great] Dictator today. How I enjoyed it! Superb satire! For all its tomfoolery written with a profundity of serious purpose. The speeches of Hynkel, half-German, half-English, are there. People who understood German were even more convulsed than I was. ... The palace scenes, where Hynkel did not waste a moment, were all in the spirit of German thoroughness. But Mussolini in real life does not smile so much. All done by an East End Jew! [emphasis added]

One hardly knows what to say — other than “Wrong on both counts, sweetheart.”

When Persephone republishes a book, they don’t simply reprint it from the original, but set it into type anew. (Their reprint of Mollie Panter-Downes’s London War Notes 1939-1945 features a row of tiny U.S. flags at the top of each even-numbered page and a corresponding row of British flags on each odd-numbered one.) The original Few Eggs apparently included illustrations that aren’t in the reprint. All we get is a hand-drawn map of Notting Hill and Holland Park; while beautiful to look at, it’s reproduced here on such a small scale as to make it essentially useless. I’m slightly sorry that I didn’t try to find a used copy of the original publication.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed reading Few Eggs and No Oranges, and recommend it to anyone who’s looking for a (very long) first-hand account of the British home front.

#world war II #u.k. home front #first-hand accounts #diaries #a long post for sunday #the beta post editor is unable to handle a post of this length and complexity

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sorceress-coffee · 4 years ago

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Air Heads

AO3 Link Phase 2 Chapter 24 Episode 19

Jim and I stood in the Void, constantly berated by the Trollhunters of the past. Currently they were tearing apart Jim’s memories from our fight with Angor Rot in the Quagawump swamps. Especially the moment Angor escaped with the Killstone.

“We’ll get it back,” Jim tried to explain for the hundredth time today. Who knew ghosts could be so stubborn?

“You said your friends would make you stronger!” One spirit yelled, running straight through my spirit form as they circled Jim and me.

Jim sighed, tired of the Void already. “It’s one set back.”

I frowned, watching as the statues flared with irritation. They continued to question and insult us, when Kanjigar finally decided to step in.

“They are right,” He lectured, floating in front of us. “You, Trollhunter, are too focused on your fight tomorrow, not the fight today.” Turning to me, Kanjigar pulled Jim’s memory of me shielding him from Angor’s blade. “And you, River,” He sighed, watching the panic break across Jim’s face in the memory. “You are so focused on protecting others, you never think of when and when not to fight.” He squared his shoulder glaring over both of us. “You both bring change. Neither is fully troll, and only one of you is part human. You bridge the worlds that you protect, but if either of you fall in battle, who will able to protect the realm of humans and magic?”

I looked away from Kanjigar, unable to argue with him. After talking with Draal, seeing how much it hurt him, I was uncertain how to fight. I had always jumped head first. Calculating was easy when all I had to worry about was myself, but if you put my friends, my family into that equation, it was like I was running on instinct.

Kanjigar hummed in surprise as neither of us offered an argument. “It seems after your fight with Angor Rot, you recognize how unprepared you are.”

“Angor Rot has killed Trollhunters before.” Jim sighed, looking to the statues. “That means some of you can help me.”

“When Angor kills his prey,” a gruff voice began.

“And he always does,” another chimed in.

“Their soul is devoured,” the gruff voice finished.

Kanjigar sighed, “It is true. Those defeated by his hand are gone forever.” He circled us, pulling memories of Jim almost getting hurt while protecting Toby and Claire. “We were once concerned your devotion would get your team killed. We now fear that it is your team who will get you killed.”

We were forced out of the Void, both returning to the Forge to see Claire and Toby in the middle of a fight. As their fight got progressively worse, I noticed that Shadow staff was charging.

“Claire, stop!” I yelled out, trying to get her to notice the staff at least.

Jim ran for Toby, panicked seeing the portal Claire was creating, “Get down!” He tackled Toby, barely missing as the Shadow staff hurled a portal where Toby’s face had been moments ago.

Claire dropped the staff in surprise, shocked at what she had just done. “Oh my gosh, Jim! I-I didn’t mean to!”

I quickly went to Claire, picking up the Shadow staff. “Magic is emotion, you’re imbedding yourself into the staff.” I explained, the staff turning white as I held it.

“See, Jim!” Toby yelled behind me, angry at Claire. “She just tried to kill me!”

“It was an accident, Tobes. Remember what I did to the wall when I was first learning?” I huffed.

“Stope! Enough!” Jim yelled, cutting us all off as the stress from the council finally caught up to him. “The council was right,” he sighed.

Draal frowned, approaching us with Arrrgh, “What did my father say?”

Jim stood straight, looking between the trolls and the humans. “He said that we need to step it up.” He tried keep it toned down for them. “And that’s not just coming him. That’s coming from me, too.” Sighing as he walked past us. “Our task ahead just got harder. If we want all the stones, the path now goes through Angor Rot.”

I winced, knuckles turning white as blue mist clouded the white of the shadow staff. If Angor killed Jim, his soul would be lost.

Claire held my hand over the staff, easing it from my grip, allowing it to turn white and collapse again.

“And we all know what that means.” Jim spoke, pointedly at me. “Even the council doesn’t know how to stop him.” Looking to the others, he continued. “We all need to pull our weight and that goes for me, too.”

“Which means we all have to train, none of us can be defenseless,” I added, agreeing with Jim.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Claire agreed quickly.

Toby rolled his eyes, scoffing at Claire’s eagerness, “We will do whatever it takes, Jim. But if rookie here gets to rock a sweet weapon, I get to rock a sweet weapon, too!” He decided, running over to the wall of weapons kept in the forge for sparring.

I looked to Jim, both of us knowing there was more going on than Toby wanting a weapon.

“Warhammer!” Toby gasped, dragging a crystalline hammer that was way too heavy for him to carry. We watched as Toby fell over, trying to carry the Warhammer back to our group.

Draal sighed, “Shouldn’t you pick something easier to handle first?” Shaking his head as Toby refused to give up.

“See?” Toby asked, struggling to drag it towards us, “It’s not that heavy.” He grunted, pausing as Bagdwella’s voice echoed through the forge.

“Trollhunter!” She yelled, running straight for Jim as soon as she spotted him in our group. “It’s urgent!”

“What is it?” Jim asked, concerned at how frantic Bagdwella was, “Is everything okay?”

She held out a wood and iron box to Jim. “I have a package I need delivered to my sister, Sagdwella! She lives under a trailer park in Oo-tah.” She explained, shoving the box over to Jim.

“Wait a minute,” He took the box, confused on why Bagdwella was coming to him for this. “You want me to mail something?”

I inched further from the box, recognizing the iron right away. Last thing I needed were more burns to add to my ever-growing list of injuries. Draal stepped between Jim and I, making sure I had a buffer.

Bagdwella began to complain that carrier mice trolls were inefficient and often ate the parcels they were meant to deliver, where as the human post offices were more reliable. Jim and her argued back and forth for a moment before he ultimately caved and took the box.

“Jim the mailman? Why not?” He huffed.

Bagdwella pulled out a piece of parchment handing it over with the box, “The address. Whatever you do,” she grabbed Jim’s hand taking the parchment, “do not open it!” She pulled her bangs back, revealing her second eye, “I’ve got my eye on you.” She ran off laughing quickly, most likely back to her shop before the Gnomes tried to take over again.

Toby cheered as he was finally able to lift the Warhammer. He regretting the action immediately as be began running backwards, trying to keep the weight centered before he ultimately crash, Warhammer and all.

I sighed as we made our way to school, having healed most of the scrapes Toby gained from his stunt with the Warhammer. “I think we all could use more training.”

Draal chuckled, walking with us. “You were just as eager when we started training. Remember how bruised you were? I thought Vendel was going to take my head.”

I laughed nodding at the memory, “That’s when he finally caved and taught me the healing spell.”

We all gathered around the lockers, the teachers oblivious to Draal’s presence on the school grounds.

“So, what’s in the box?” Claire asked, curious about what could be so important for Bagdwella to need our help mailing it.

Jim put the box in his locker, sighing, “It doesn’t matter. We’re not gonna open it.”

“Yeah Claire,” Toby chimed in, slipping under Jim’s arm to look at the box, “it doesn’t matter. But aren’t you curious though?” He asked Jim as the locker was shut. “There could be, like, a tiny creature in there that can’t breathe, Jimbo!” He gasped, panicking over a possibility, “Or an itty-bitty troll king whose little kingdom needs saving!”

“I thought it didn’t matter?” I questioned Toby, realizing he had been picking on Claire, unsure of why though.

“Guys, it doesn’t matter, because at lunch, I’m taking it straight to the post office.” Jim declared, relaxing a bit. “Easy win for once.”

“What?” Steve’s voice wrang out over our group, causing most of us to groan. “You think you’re gonna win today, Lame Junior?” He smirked, leaning against the lockers. “The touch-a-tuck-athon is mine.” Steve sneered, trying to bait Jim. “It’s the ultimate test of endurance, and no one can touch like me.” He grinned, reaching for both mine and Claire’s hands.

“In you dreams,” Claire hissed, snatching her hand from Steve.

Grinning, Steve used both hands to grab mine, “Which brings me to this, River. Would you go to Spring Fling with the future king?”

I blinked before turning to look at Draal, “I didn’t know you were running too.”

Draal smirked, grabbing Steve by the collar with his prosthetic arm, forcing him to drop my hands. “Sorry, Fleshbag, River has a ‘date’.”

Steve’s eyes went wide for a moment before he ripped himself from Draal grasp, “And you are? What another transfer student?” He asked, referring to Eemeli.

“Ah, that’s right. Only the girls have met you.” I smirked, turning to Steve, “Steve, meet my fiancé, Draal. He’s actually visiting from out of town.”

Draal smirked leaning into me slightly, “You’re the Palchuck then,” he sneered, leaning into Steve’s face. “Next time, don’t refer to Dr. Lake as nurse, you might keep your teeth.”

Steve clenched his fist, trying to size Draal up before pushing past him, realizing it was a fight he couldn’t win. “Whatever, like I side, the touch-a-truck-athon is mine!”

“Poor Steve,” Toby rolled his eyes once Steve was out of earshot, “I think he’s becoming unhinged.”

Jim groaned, hitting his forehead against the lockers. “The truck-athon’s today? That’s gonna take all day!”

“Then let me deliver the package,” Claire offered, “How hard could it be?”

“Be careful, it’s covered in iron. While I’m not sure how gaining magic from a staff works, that stuff burns mages.” I instructed, knowing she was able to hold the gaggletak before. Claire nodded, eyeing the metal of the box.

“You mean, we can deliver it.” Toby butted in, causing Claire to roll her eyes.

Jim sighed, facing them, “Bagdwella wanted me to deliver it.”

“Focus, Jim.” Toby cut him off. “We’re trying to win Spring King, remember?”

“We?” Draal asked, confused how Jim winning could have anything to do with Toby.

Toby glared at him as he continued, “We can be cool?”

“You mean, you want to be cool,” Jim shook his head, smiling at Toby’s antics.

“Semantics,” Toby waved him off. “You already won the first challenge. If you ace this, you’ll be a lock to be king. Then I’ll be duke. Win this and you won’t have to worry about anymore of these stupid things.” He argued, knowing that if Jim won this challenge, he was assured to be Spring King.

“He actually has a point; you wouldn’t even have to show up to the last challenge.” I agreed, knowing it would free up more of Jim’s time.

“You said we needed to step up,” Claire chimed in, eager to help.

“Guys, troll mail isn’t what I meant,” Jim sighed opening his locker as he thought it through.

“But this is our chance to show you,” Claire reasoned. Wanting to prove herself after almost taking Toby’s head off earlier.

I grasped his shoulder, turning him to look at me, “I’ll go with them, and I’ll keep out of the way unless they really need help.”

Jim caved, handing the box to Toby, “Just remember, don’t open the box.” He instructed, still tense about the situation.

“Don’t worry, dude,” Toby grinned, practically ripping the box from Jim’s hands. “Postmaster Toby and his assistant, Claire, will handle with care.” He grabbed the address, already dropping the box.

“I think I’ll stay with the Trollhunter,” Draal huffed, still watching where Steve left, “I don’t trust that fleshbag.”

“Alright,” I grinned, ushering Claire and Toby away from Jim before he could change his mind, “Keep Draal from killing Steve!” I called over my shoulder.

We hurried to our classes, meeting up during our break to discuss taking the package in. “Alright, I can’t touch the box, so one of you will need to keep it until lunch.” I sighed, keeping my distance as Toby held the box.

“It’s just mail, River, how hard can it be to mail a package?” Toby snickered, handing the box to Claire as he began rifling through his backpack.

“You still have the address, right?” Claire asked, carefully maneuvering around the iron on the box, just in case.

“Um,” Toby stuttered out, “You wouldn’t happen to have memorized it, would you?” He asked Claire, rummaging through his pockets frantically.

I groaned, “Toby, how did you lose it already?”

“How could we mess up already?” Claire sighed, “All we’re doing is mailing a package, the easiest task in existence, and we can’t even do that properly?” She huffed, looking around the floor in case he dropped it. “Look everywhere!”

Toby turned out his front pockets, dumped his backpack, then opened the package. As air escaped the box he snapped it close, realizing what he had just done.

“Wait,” Claire scoffed, glaring at Toby, “You opened it?”

“You told me to check everywhere!” Toby accused, letting go of the package.

I sighed, letting them work through this. Toby had been acting strange since the Wumpas, when Claire took the Shadow Staff from Angor Rot. If we were going to be a team, we couldn’t have animosity between us, but I couldn’t begin to tell where Toby’s issue with Claire began.

“What was in it?” Claire finally asked, curiosity over the package winning over her annoyance with Toby’s attitude for the moment.

Toby shrugged, looking at the package, brows knitted in confusion. “It was empty, I opened it and there was a weird ‘whhhooooooosh’ then nothing.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” I sighed, wondering what manner of magic Bagdwella could be sending to her sister.

“A ‘whooooosh’? How could that be bad?” Claire asked as my unease showed through.

Glaring at the package, I shook my head, “Could be a form of magic, I don’t exactly have formal training so I’m not 100% sure, but unknown noises in empty boxes sounds like the start of a horror movie.” I explained.

Toby began to struggle, trying to reach his back pocket. “Aha!” He cried out, pulling the slip of paper with the address written down. Grinning in triumph as he presented the paper. “It was in my back pocket!”

Claire rolled her eyes, plucking the paper from his hands and stuffing it in her backpack along with the box. “I’ll be holding onto this.”

Toby glared at her, “Fine. Whatever. We’ll meet here at lunch.”

I sighed watching as they took off to their classes. This was going to be a long day. As Toby walked away, I noticed a pencil float out of his back pack. I snatched it out of the air before anyone could notice. If what I thought was in the box latched onto Toby, it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose.

Heading to my class I deposited the pencil into a zipper pouch of my backpack. Hopefully it wouldn’t spread from the pencil if Toby was infected. Throughout the morning I kept a close eye on my bag, watching for any signs of it trying to float.

During Chemisty, an orange blurr caught my eye across the courtyard. My head snapped to the window as I realized it was Toby, floating mid air by Claire’s classroom. I quickly pulled my hood up, a signal to the teachers that my ‘condition’ Eemeli had filed for me was causing issues, allowing me to exit the classroom without argument.

I quickly ran to the courtyard meeting up with a panicked Claire. “Did you see where he went?” She asked as we took off for the school entrance, careful to avoid the truck-athon.

“Last I saw he was floating outside of your class, I really hope no one else noticed,” I grimaced, looking near the roof, hoping Toby had enough sense to grab onto something.

“Claire! River!” A panicked yelp drew our attention to the flagpole.

“Toby!” Claire hissed out, running back to the school.

I grabbed her arm before she could get too far, teleporting us up to the flagpole. “Toby hold on! We’ll get you down!”

“It was the whooooosh wasn’t it?” Claire huffed, using the rope to lower Toby with the school flag.

“I don’t know!” Toby defended, wincing as Claire and I worked to lower him. “Jim already thinks I’m useless, I can’t even pick up a Warhammer!” He frowns, as Claire grabs him, holding on tight so he doesn’t float off again.

Sighing, she pulled him away from the flagpole, “We are useless, Toby. The only who’s been able to help Jim is River.”

Sighing I teleported us to the ground, “Claire, I’m severely untrained. I have little to no control of my actual magic, if it wasn’t for the collar, I’d be decimating walls left and right, not to mention people and trolls. Also, all the injuries I’ve sustained? I’m more likely to get killed in a fight than you two.”

Toby grimaced, grabbing my shoulder as Claire kept him grounded. “Look, we can argue about who the worst sidekick, after we get my feet on the ground.”

Smiling I nodded, “Our best be will be Blinky, with as much magical research he does, he might have an idea about what’s going on.”

“Blinky’s at your house! Can you teleport us that far?” Claire asked, wanting to fix whatever was going on with Toby as soon as possible.

I shook my head, trying to calculate the distance, “I don’t doubt I’d be able to teleport that far by myself, let alone with two other people.”

Nodding, Claire and I each took one of Toby’s arms, keeping him as close to the ground as possible. We tried to avoid main streets, knowing three teens skipping school would gain attention. As we ran trough town, we were passing through a smaller street when Toby slipped from our grasps.

We began chasing him through the streets of down town Arcadia, running past mom and Strickler on a date. I tried to keep from gagging as I spotted them at the café. As Toby began floating back, heading past them again, I spotted Eemeli with Eri inside the café, keeping an eye on Strickler as he was running around town.

Toby began to descend as we reached a row of houses. “I think it’s wearing off!” He cheered before slamming face first into the asphalt. “Never mind,” he groaned, struggling to sit up.

Claire tried pulling him up, unable to move him an inch, “Toby, you have a serious weight problem!”

“Not funny!” Came Toby’s muffled yell.

Looking around, Claire spotted a wagon in one of the driveways. “River, think you could get him in the wagon?”

I nodded; eyes glowing as I pushed magic through my body. Claire pulled the wagon over as I grabbed Toby. Even with magic enhanced strength, it took a lot of effort to get him in the wagon. “Toby, this isn’t a diet issue.” I groaned as the wagon creaked under him.

“You’re going between really light and really heavy,” Claire sighed, pulling the handle as I pushed from behind.

“That seems accurate,” Toby huffed, unable to lift his head.

We were able to get a couple blocks closer the bridge when we were stopped by a cop. Claire quickly made up a story about taking Tobes to the hospital, which Toby flourished by adding that he had no bones.

The cop offered to get us a ride and called in for a car. While his back was turned, Toby floated off before Claire or I could grab him. I grabbed Claire, teleporting us away from the cop as we lost sight of Toby.

“How do we lose a floating teenager?” I growled out, eyeing the sky as we ran through the suburbs, Claire on the phone with Toby before he disconnects.

She groaned, hanging up her phone, “He dropped it!”

My phone began going off, NotEnriques ringtone filling the air. “What’s the little monster up to?” I sighed, opening my phone to a selfie of NotEnrique, Toby floating off behind him. “He’s at your house!” I grabbed Claire, her house being close enough now to teleport into the yard.

“I have an idea!” She called out, running into the shed, coming back with a brightly colored kite. “This should be long enough to reach him.”

I nodded, taking off after Toby’s form in the clouds, heading straight for the bridge. “There’s no wind!” I called out, realizing we would be able to get the kite into the air without it.

“Can’t you just make wind?” Claire asked, watching as Toby began to drift into the clouds.

“With what wind spell?” I panicked, eyes flaring as orange sparked to life among the blue flares of my magic. I looked from the sparked to Toby, trying to imagining the feeling of wind picking up around me and funneling up towards him. I let out a sigh, focusing on the feeling along with the sparks I had seen, letting it take over my mind.

“That’ll work!” I could distantly hear Claire call out. “Toby! Grab on!”

My eyes snapped open to see a wind tunnel holding the kit in the sky as Toby clung to it.

“Alright, alright!” Toby cried out, getting a little wind burnt, “pull me in!”

“Not until you admit it!” Claire yelled, finally snapping at Toby. “Admit you’ve been a butt to me all day!”

“I,” Toby stuttered, “Okay, okay!” He groaned, looking from Claire to the ground. “I’m a butt!”

I sighed, trying to pull my magic in to keep it from harming Toby since it seems we were talking this out now. I reached up, letting out a breath I had been holding and closed my fist tight, imagining pulling the wind back as my fingers closed. As I had hoped, the wind slowly died down, Toby’s floating form keeping the kite airborne as he clung to it.

“Why are you so jealous of me and Jim?” Claire asked as she carefully began to reel him in.

“It’s just,” Toby sighed, eyes locked on the ground, unable to look at Claire. “for so long it was the Jim and Toby show, you know?” Frowning, he continued on, laying bare why he was truly upset, “And you’re this cool, smart girl, who’s great at everything, and is really pretty, you’re also not River, and now you have this super rad shadow staff, and what do I have?” Toby asked, as Claire and I were finally able to reach him, holding tight to his arms. “I have weight problems.”

I smiled softly, knowing how hard this must be for Toby to admit, especially since he never had to share his best friend’s attention with someone else before. It was like watching your sibling take off without you.

“Toby, you and Jim are the dynamic duo! I could never change that,” Claire smiled, finally understanding why Toby had been a jerk since the Wumpa swamps. “And I would never want to change that! You’ve supported Jim from day one!”

Toby sighed in relief; thankful Claire was understanding. “Oh, thank Deya! I thought you were going to be mad, and we wouldn’t be friends anymore!”

“Uh, Toby?” I tried to get his attention as Claire began to float beside him.

“Toby!” She snapped, cutting off his rambling. “The curse is spreading.”

“Quick River! Get us to Blinky!” Toby panicked, clinging tight to Claire and me.

I nodded, able to teleport to the house now that we were on the bridge. I grabbed both Toby and Claire, flashing us into the living room, scaring Blinky.

“Blinky!” I grinned, relieved that we may have help. “Toby’s been cursed!”

“Lady River!” He yelped, watching as Toby and Claire floated around the living room, the curse spreading to both of us too. “Did you curse young Tobias?” He asked, holding onto the light fixture.

“I could do this?!” I asked, now scared I may have been the reason behind the curse instead of the package.

“It wasn’t River!” Toby defended, understanding my insecurities with magic after our heart to heart at the school flagpole. “I opened the box Bagdwella gave Jim!” He admitted, refusing to let Blinky blame this on me.

Watching the box fly out of Claire’s bag, Blinky gasped, having been at the house the entire day. “A cursed box?! Why would Bagdwella give this to you?”

“Does it matter? How do we stop it?” Claire asked, getting knocked into the corner of the ceiling as the curse spread to the house, causing it to lift from the foundation.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea!” Blinky yelped, dodging the coffee table as it flew by, the cursed object picking up speed. “Vendel would know what to do!”

“I have an idea!” Toby grinned, grabbing the collapsed form of the Shadow Staff, throwing it to Claire. “Open a portal and get us to Vendel!”

“I can’t!” Claire snapped, clinging to the staff. “I can barely make one the size of a dormouse, remember?” She began to panic, “River, you could teleport us here, why can’t you get us to Trollmarket?”

“I haven’t figure out how to teleport inside! With Blinky and the curse, I’m not sure I’d even make it to the canal!” I argued, knowing there was no way for me to get in without a horngazel in my current state.

Toby groaned, an idea forming, “I really hate to do this but…” He took a deep breath, glaring at Claire, “Way to let us down Claire! Just like you lost the Killstone!”

“What?” Claire asked, face falling with pain at Toby’s words.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re ready to be a Trollhunter!” Toby yelled, insulting her further.

“Why are you being a but again?!” Claire snapped, the Shadow Staff activating as her grip tightened, slowly turning black as Toby egged her on.

“Right guys?” Toby asked, Blinky and I.

“You’re right, Tobias!” Blinky agreed, glancing at the staff.

I winced, understanding the plan immediately as all three turned to me, Toby and Blinky hopeful. I sighed, looking at the Shadow Staff as it slowly turned black. “Alright. Claire, I don’t think you have what it takes to be a mage! You’re all over the place and you can’t even power the staff! It’s just not in your blood!”

“What is wrong with all of you?!” She screamed, confused on why we were going against her.

“Oh, are you mad Claire?” Toby asked, as a tiny portal formed at the tip of the staff.

“Yeah! I’m mad!” She snarled, the portal expanding.

“Then look at the staff and think of Vendel!” He yelled, grabbing onto Blinky.

Eyes widening, she looked to the staff. Grinning as she realized what was going on, she opened the portal quickly, heading into it.

I grabbed her ankle as she headed in, knowing we had to get Toby to Vendel. Blinky linked his arm with mine as Vendel and Claire pulled us through into his study. The curse immediately began to spread through the Heartstone.

“Blinkous! What mischief have you gotten yourself into now?” Vendel asked, as he began floating, hitting the ceiling of his study.

“Don’t look down on me,” Blinky huffed, grabbing onto a stone table. “It is Tobias who is cursed.”

“Can you fix it?!” Claire asked as she floated across the ceiling, whacking various objects out of the way as they flew by her.

“Yes, but I need a vessel to trap the curse in!” Vendel yelled, trying to grab his scrolls as they floated around the room.

“River!” Toby grinned, “I know exactly what to get!”

“Warhammer!” I laughed, nodding to Toby as I teleported to the forge, grabbing the hammer her had tried to lift this morning. I flashed back with the weapon, kicking off the wall to float by Vendel.

“River, I’ll need your help. Grab onto a small section of the Heartstone and draw its magic into you.” Vendel explained, having me hold one end of the hammer hilt while he held higher up.

“Is that safe?” I asked, hesitating as I reached a small grouping of the stone.

Vendel nodded, “You are part troll, it’ll be like drinking your coffee, if it was magically enhanced.”

I nodded, knowing I could trust Vendel. I grabbed the small outcrop of crystal, claws sinking into the stone as I began to pull the magic from the crystal. My eyes began to glow bright blue, my magic meeting the Heartstone’s as I pulled it into me.

“Alright, slowly channel it into the Warhammer,” Vendel instructed, incanting in Trollish as the magic flowed from me, into the Warhammer.

I kept a tight hold on the magic entering and leaving my body. The more I focused, the more orange began to bleed into my eyes, slowly taking over the blue glow as the Heartstone magic began to meld with my own.

We slowly began to descend the longer Vendel was chanting, sealing the curse inside the Warhammer. One by one, our feet planted on the stone floor. Once Toby’s finally hit, we knew the curse had been trapped.

Vendel ended the chant, waiting for my to finished transferring the magic.

I could feel a coolness settle over me as I slowed the flow from the Heartstone to the Warhammer. The lines that had once bled blue, burning my skin, were now a soft orange, the burning sensation nowhere to be found. I released the Heartstone and the Warhammer as I held tight to my control over the magic.

Vendel smiled, patting the top of my head as the glowing dimmed, complimenting the changeling features coming out. “Well done, River. Focusing on the feeling of what you’re wanting to do may be the best course for you to practice with.”

“If the wind was anything to go by earlier,” Claire grinned, crouching on the floor, happy to have solid footing again.

“Wind?” Vendel asked, handing the Warhammer off to an overly excited Tobias as he was bouncing next to us.

Toby began swinging the Warhammer, careful to keep from hitting Vendel at least. “Claire used a kite to get me out of the sky, but there wasn’t any wind. Next thing I saw was blue and orange sparks as River made a wind tunnel!”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Besides the healing spell, I don’t know any incantations. I figured if it was anything like teleporting it was all about feeling. Like you said, it seems to be working for me.” I shrugged, still trying to wrap my head around it.

Vendel smiled, corralling us out of the study before Toby could breaking something. “Why don’t we head to the Forge? I’d like to see what else you could do.”

Blinky whacked the Warhammer from him as we walked to the Forge, meeting with Arrrgh as he was putting away the weapons from multiple sparring session that day.

Toby and Claire immediately went off. Claire was focusing on controlling her anger and imbedding it into the staff. Toby began to test the effects of the curse on the Warhammer as it switched from feather light to weighing as much as a freight truck.

Vendel, Vendel and Arrrgh stood to the side. Arrrgh and Blinky were keeping an eye on Claire and Toby while Vendel called out instructions.

“Since you were able to conjure wind, why don’t we try another element?” He suggested.

“How about water?” I asked, not trusting myself with fire yet.

Vendel nodded, “That will be a good start.” He chuckled, realizing my hesitance, “The safer option for now.”

I smiled, closing my eyes as I began to focus, imagining the feeling of water around me. This felt familiar, my mind going back to when I created the crystals, the flowing mana pools that had taken shape in my mind. I felt myself sink further into my mind as I kept a tight hold on the mana surging around me. I began to envision the calm flow, the cooling sensation of water running against my skin, pulling it all around me, slowly forming the water into bubbles, letting them float around me, a mix or blue and orange taking form throughout the water bubbles.

I could hear Vendel chuckle near me, Blinky and Arrrgh voice flitting in and out of my consciousness.

“Changing,” Arrrgh’s voice broke through. At first I thought he may be referring to more troll features surfacing.

Blinky’s voice flitted in, “Her magic began to shift when she took in energy from the Heartstone, is this just leftover power the stone gave her?”

“Perhaps,” I could hear the smile overtaking Vendel’s face, “though, I believe it could be something very different.”

“Fitting,” Blinky huffed as Vendel couldn’t clearly answer his question. “A half changeling sorceress is unheard of, but the fact that she’s learning from feeling instead of tomes sounds like a young Merlin.” He reasoned.

“Hey!” Jim’s voice cut through, as two sets of footsteps drew closer to the forge, “Does anyone know why there are bubbles all over the Heartstone? The trolls don’t seem worried, is it like a salt lamp…” He trailed off as his steps came to a brief halt.

“As you can see, young Trollhunter, our sorceress is beginning to learn what drives her magic.” Vendel chuckled.

“That’s definitely new,” Draal’s voice broke in, shifting my focus back to the physical realm.

I slowly opened my eyes, first focusing on Toby and Claire as they continued to spar. That wasn’t odd, other than their fight earlier, maybe he was talking about Toby throwing the Warhammer around like it was nothing.

The light of the forge highlighted blue and orange objects around me. My eyes began to focus clearly as bubbles of water came to view. Floating throughout the entire forge were bubbles of magic water, some were blue while others were orange, all of varying sizes and brightness.

“Whoa,” I breathed out, in awe of the bubbles. I titled my head, thinking of how it felt when they popped on my hands or fingers when Jim and I used to chase them as little kids. I lifted my hand and snapped my fingers, watching as the bubbles simultaneously popped throughout the forge, the magic dissipating into the air.

Draal grinned, picking me up as he cheered, “You’ve learned a new spell!”

I laughed, hugging around his neck, keeping myself stable as he swung us around. “I guess I did!”

Jim smiled, letting us be while he turned his attention to Claire and Toby sparring, “Can I get in on that?” He asked, summoning Daylight as he ran out to spar with them.

The magic I released, boosted their weapons. Allowing them to power up their weapons easily. Toby’s a little unstable due to the curse, but he adapted quickly enough.

Vendel smiled, speaking with Blinky, “At times, we forget they are still children. Let them have fun while they can.”

Blinky smiled, watching over us proudly as we all began to spar, learning to adjust to each other’s fighting styles, and teaming up against each other. “They’ll almost look like a team.”

Eemeli ran into the Forge, waving me down as he sidled up next to Vendel, out of breath.

“Eemeli? What’s going on?” I asked, flashing to him as he leaned over his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Strickler.” He got out, coughing a bit.

“He ran all the way here from the other side of town,” Eri explained, popping out of Eemeli’s hood. “We followed Stricklander all day.”

“How did it go?” I asked, worried about what could cause Eemeli enough distress to come running.

“Not sure,” He sighed, finally catching his breath. “He met with Angor Rot tonight. All I know is he’s planning something big, and Strickler won’t be around for it.”

I frowned, while this was terrible news for us, we still didn’t really have anything to go on. “Strickler’s tactics, are these normal for Changelings you’ve worked with?”

Eemeli shook his head, “We’d never do anything that would gain a lot of attention, our goal is to blend in, not take over. That was for Gunmar to do.” He sighed, having no idea what could be going through Strickler’s head.

“Then I have a favor to ask,” I steeled myself, unsure of Jim’s reaction to come. “Eri, I need you and Eemeli to find my father.”

Eemeli jumped back, looking shaken by the request, “You want us to find Garridan, an ex- Gumm-Gumm general?”

“River, is that a good idea? Both of our dad’s left to protect something.” Jim cut in, worried about my request.

“Both?” Vendel asked, eyeing Jim confused.

I turned to Jim, nodding. “I’m sure. We don’t know what Strickler is up to, we don’t know how massive his plan could be. He’s not following normal Changeling ways. He’s desperate with a side of crazy, and has a troll assassin on his side.” I explained, “If anyone might have an idea of how to handle a renegade Changeling, our fathers’ are our best bet.”

“I’m not supposed to take you to him!” Eri cut in, panicking. “I’m supposed to stay here and help you.”

“You wouldn’t be taking me, you’d be taking Eemeli.” I sighed, knowing this was a lot to ask. “I’m starting to get a better handle of my magic thanks to you. But we may need his help. I’m not willing to wait until its too late.” I scratched under her chin, “And you’re the only one who knows where he is.”

“You think sending a Changeling to him is the smartest thing to do?” Eemeli asked, nervous about meeting Garridan again. “He might actually kill me.”

“Even with Eri escorting you?” I asked, more to Eri.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Eri sighed, wrapping herself around Eemeli’s shoulders. “If you think this is the best course of action, I’m in.”

Eemeli nodded, holding out his hand for me. I reached out, instead of grabbing my hand, he linked our wrists. “I’ll find him. You’ve done more for me than the order ever could. If this is what you ask, it’ll happen.”

I smiled, nodded before pulling my arm away. “Thank you. Both of you.”

Vendel coughed, gaining all of our attention, “Is no one going to explain what the Trollhunter meant by ‘our fathers’?” He asked, glaring over all of us.

Jim chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “Right, River do you have the book?” He asked, hoping to soften the blow.

I nodded, grabbing my bag quickly and bringing my mother’s grimoire back. “Right here.”

The pages began to glow as I opened to the sketch of our parents, showing it to Vendel as the human knights morphed into trolls. “They’re brothers, and both are Changelings.”

Vendel sucked in air quickly as he watched the sketch shift back and forth, “What did the council have to say?”

Jim took out the amulet, “Not much actually, Kanjigar said River and I both bridge the world between humans, trolls, and sorcerers. That we both protect it. Other than that, they didn’t seem to have much of an issue, though Deya’s eyes were glowing the entire meeting, and that’s a first.”

Vendel hummed, nodding to himself as he closed the book. “Then I have nothing to say on the matter. Your sister has proven time and again that Changeling have the potential to be trusted. After Bular, I have great faith in you, Trollhunter.” Vendel smiled, patting my head, then Jim’s.

“It seems we all have our tasks then,” Blink grinned, clasping his fleshy hands. “Eri and Eemeli will find River’s father. Arrrgh and Draal will look over Jim and Tobias’ training. I’ll research ways to help both our Fair Claire, and Lady River with their evolving magic.”

Draal rolled his eyes, elbowing my side, “Since when is Blinkous a magic tutor?”

We all burst into laughter, even Vendel as Blinky spluttered, trying to defend his researching methods. We split up in our respective groups for the night. Eri and Eemeli heading out right away, the rest of us training into the early hours of the morning, excited to have some direction now.

#Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #trollhunters fanfiction #tales of arcadia fanfiction #Draal #draal the deadly #human draal #draal x river #draal x oc #River Marie Lake #River Marie Wyllt #river of arcadia #Phase 2 #chapter 24 #episode 19 #air heads

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ginnyweatherby · 7 years ago

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Anything Your Heart Desires Will Come to You

This story is somewhat of a sequel to this one I wrote awhile ago, but it can stand on it’s own. I just wanted to write about Charlotte going to Disney World, since she wasn’t able to go on Lefou and Stanley’s last trip with her brother and sister... This time Gaston tags along too!

I struggled with this story more than anything I’ve ever written, but after days weeks months of fighting with it, and I even seriously considered scrapping it a few times, I think I can finally say it is finished. 100% family fluff because that is my jam and I hope it is yours as well.

Being born in the middle of first semester meant Charlotte’s birthdays often went by without much of a fuss. Quiet dinners, a small (or as small as a family such as hers could accomplish) party if it fell over a weekend.

But last November, Charlotte Mae Durand-Lefou had turned twenty-one years old.

No one wanted to admit it out loud, but not many people thought she would make it this far. Between her endless hospital stays, and more surgeries than anyone her age should have to endure, twenty-one seemed like an even bigger milestone than it was to everyone else.

Still. She had college degree to obtain. So, once again, her birthday went by with a nice dinner (featuring her first - doctor-approved - adult beverage) with both sides of her family, complete with Michelle singing an endless chorus of “Happy Birthday”, while Barney tipped off the waitresses to join her.

Now, it was early May, the weather was warm and Charlotte didn’t have a care in the world. She’d completed the school year with good grades, didn’t have to think about exams or reports for a few months, and still had two weeks of freedom before her summer internship began.

In honor of her twenty-first half birthday, her father agreed to take her and the family on any trip she wanted… within reason. Michelle was still only six, after all.

Despite her love for princess movies and countless Mickey Mouse t-shirts, Charlotte had never been to Disney World.

Which is why today Charlotte was checking her reflection one final time as she placed her Minnie Mouse headband over her unruly hair. She may have accomplished reaching adulthood, but that didn’t mean she couldn't spend a week with her family (and her favorite Uncle Gaston) embracing her inner child.

Michelle was running up and down the halls of their hotel, her Little Mermaid backpack bouncing on her shoulders as her family dragged the bulk of their luggage into their rooms. At six years old, she didn’t fully understand the responsibility of “carry your own bag, Michelle!” Lefou shook his head as he watched his daughter practically float in excitement before swiping the room key to his and Stanley’s room. “Michelle, honey, over here.” Michelle skipped back to the rest of her family and leaped past them to bounce on the bed. “Papa, this bed is huge!” “That’s because they knew there’d be a little girl trying to destroy it,” Lefou teased, finally releasing his grip on his suitcase, Michelle’s suitcase, and his backpack. He let out a sigh of relief as the weight was lifted from his aching body. It had been a long day of travel and he couldn’t wait to put his feet up and rel- “WHEN ARE WE GONNA GO TO DISNEY WORLD, PAPA?” Lefou let out a breath. He should have known better. “We just got here, Michelle,” Stanley appeared behind them, relieving himself of his own luggage. “Take a breather.” “I wanna see Ariel,” Michelle whined. The mere thought of visiting a theme park after spending so long in transit exhausted Lefou. He didn’t know where children got their energy, but he envied their apparent never-ending supply. He had to get his in the form of caffeine... he thought he saw a coffee shop downstairs... “We will, just relax,” Stanley laughed, pushing open the door to the adjoining room, where Charlotte and Michelle would be staying. Barney had managed to convince Gaston to allow him to stay in his room across the hall to not have to share with his sisters. Michelle – who was usually found attached to Charlotte’s hip whenever the latter was around – caught sight of her sister unpacking some of her things and jumped off her parents’ bed with an impressive thud on the carpet to run through the doorway. “Is this my bed, Charlotte?” Michelle asked, and Lefou saw her climb onto one of the beds, before hopping across to the other. The girl had boundless energy and it wore him out just to watch her sometimes. “Pick whichever you want,” Charlotte said. Michelle flopped onto her back on the bed closest to the window, seeming to test out the mattress. “I think I want this one...” “Alright then I’ll take the other o-” Charlotte turned around to see Michelle, flat on her back, arms sprawled on either side of her, eyes shut and sleeping soundly. “How did she fall asleep so fast?” Charlotte peered through the doorway to look at Lefou in disbelief. Lefou shrugged, as he heard Stanley chuckle behind him. “She’s like a battery... she just keeps going and going...” “Until she stops.”

Lefou was simultaneously juggling a handful of tickets (as no one else could be trusted with such responsibility) and doing a head count as he led his small parade of family members through the front gate of the theme park. Stanley stood next to him, his nose deep in a map. He had spent most of their last trip in a similar position, and soon enough he would probably be pulling a bottle of sunscreen from his backpack insisting everyone lather up. Gaston had Michelle balanced on his shoulders to keep her from running off in her excitement; Barney was hovering behind them from a distance, pretending that fifteen was far too old to be on a Disney vacation with his family. Lefou knew he’d warm up to the idea soon enough. … and then there was Charlotte. She may have been legally an adult – as difficult as her father found it to believe – but she was looking around the park with a look of awe and wonder usually reserved for small children seeing snow or fireworks for the first time. Lefou stayed away from theme parks during her childhood. He didn’t want to disappoint her when she discovered most of the rides were forbidden for those with heart conditions such as hers, but this was her choice... and he soon realized he may have made a mistake keeping her from it. There were still plenty of things she could enjoy this week. “It’s even more amazing in person,” She muttered under her breath as she looked to Cinderella’s castle.

Lefou smiled as he watched his daughter take everything in. If he was honest, he never got tired of seeing the castle, himself. “It’s pretty great, isn’t it?” Stanley asked, as he finally tore his eyes away from the map to follow her gaze. “It’s unbelievable,” Charlotte said, with a small nod of her head.

Normally, Lefou would have taken a photo of such a precious sight, such a beautiful expression on her face… but not only were his hands too full to root through his pockets to find his phone, but he soon realized part of the magic that Disney so often promised was being present in the moment.

To his parents, a trip to Disney meant a week with the family, a few dorky kiddie rides, matching family outfits… Their choice today was a Finding Nemo theme, with Lefou and Charlotte sporting orange and white to be Marlin and Nemo, respectively, Stanley wore blue to be Dory, Michelle was wearing a pink dress and cheering “aww, you guys made me ink!” every few minutes, even Gaston had been talked into wearing green and brown to be Crush, and finally, Barney wore a yellow shirt that Charlotte had insisted on emblazoning “I’M OBNOXIOUS” across the front in permanent marker.

Stanley said it was a rather fitting quote.

… but to Barney, a trip to Disney meant more than matching costumes. It meant thrill rides (the Haunted Mansion was his favorite) and most importantly, the snacks. There was something about food in the shape of cartoon mice that just tasted better.

They’d hardly walked through the front entrance before he was begging Stanley for a few dollars to buy popcorn. His dad was something of a pushover when it came to the kids, and easily relented. Now, while they were headed towards the Finding Nemo show that Michelle insisted on seeing, Barney spotted a Mickey pretzel cart and he wanted nothing more than to partake in one.

He rummaged through his pockets for the spare change he’d accumulated from all his earlier snacking, and managed to come up with enough for two pretzels. He figured he would treat his Papa since he was the only one willing to wait behind as the others charged ahead toward the theater.

“If you keep eating like this, you might actually have to start buying shirts in a size medium,” Lefou teased, poking Barney’s skinny arm, before taking one of the pretzels from him.

Barney rolled his eyes, as he bit into an ear. “I’m a growing man, Papa.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Lefou said. “I still see that tiny little thing hardly more than six pounds in the nursery when I see you.”

“Papa.”

“A little taller now, I'll give you that.”

Barney opened his mouth to reply when they reached the theater. “Ooh, can we get some popcorn? It's not a show without popcorn!”

“Bartholomew, you still have a massive pretzel in your hand.”

“What if I promise to share with Michelle?”

Lefou sighed, before handing Barney his wallet.

Charlotte and Michelle were on a mission. They were determined that over the course of their visit, they would meet every princess they possibly could. Michelle met Ariel on their last trip, and in the two years since, had spoken of little else. Barney had dragged Gaston to ride one of the bigger rides that his sisters couldn’t, so they began their quest, with Lefou and Stanley hovering behind, making sure Michelle stayed within eyesight… They trusted Charlotte, but Michelle could be a handful. “Keep an eye out, Michelle,” Charlotte was holding the younger girl’s hand. “Poofy dresses and dainty voices are a dead giveaway for princesses.” “What does ‘dainty’ mean?” Michelle asked, taking her role of "lookout” very seriously. “Watch ‘Snow White,” Charlotte said. “You’ll understand.” Only a moment later, Michelle’s voice rang out in the busy crowd, “IT’S AURORA!” “We found one!” Charlotte said, laughing at Michelle’s enthusiasm. There wasn’t much of a line to see their princess, and in no time Michelle was falling into the arms of Aurora. “Oh, my, hello there, Princess!” Aurora greeted with a chuckle, trying not to topple over from the force of Michelle’s hug. “How are you today?” “I’m good,” Michelle said, politely, as she pulled away. “Charlotte and me are gonna meet all of the princesses today!” Aurora flashed her a smile. “Is that so?” “Yep! You’re our first stop.” “Well, I’m honored,” Aurora said, looking past Michelle’s head to her family. “Then this must be Charlotte?” “It is!” Michelle said, excitedly, as Charlotte walked up to the princess and gave her a hug of her own. Lefou managed to snap a picture of the sweet exchange, pleased to see both of his daughters involved in the magic together. “Are you friends with Ariel?” Michelle asked. “You know what?” Aurora said, “I am. I think I saw her swimming around somewhere today. I bet you could still catch her if you look really hard.” Michelle’s excitement was contagious as she squealed at the thought of meeting Ariel again. She liked Sleeping Beauty well enough, but nothing would ever hold a candle to The Little Mermaid in her mind. “What about you, Princess?” Aurora turned to Charlotte, who turned slightly pink at the nickname. “Do you have anyone you would like to meet?” “Oh, I’m just happy to meet you,” Charlotte said, honestly. Lefou knew that Mulan was her favorite princess movie, but she was a fan of them all. “I’m flattered,” Aurora said, putting a hand to her chest. “You’re both so sweet. I can’t wait to tell Phillip about you two! Now tell me, is there a prince in your life?” She glanced over Charlotte’s shoulder to see Lefou and Stanley. “... or perhaps a princess?” If Charlotte was pink before, she was magenta now. “There might be... uh, a prince, that is.” Stanley, who’d just taken a swig from his water bottle began to cough. “... Excuse me?” Aurora giggled a delicate laugh behind her hand as Lefou pounded his husband on the back while he spluttered to get him to breathe properly again. “Did you know that?” Stanley hissed into Lefou’s ear as the girls continued to talk to Aurora. “Not exactly,” Lefou admitted. “But she’s twenty-one, so I can’t say I’m surprised.” “She’s too young.” Stanley insisted. He didn’t even know Charlotte until she was twelve, but he had fully accepted her as his daughter to the point where he was apparently scandalized by the thought of her having a boyfriend. Lefou decided not to tell him of all the times Charlotte had mentioned her dates in the past. “She’s an adult,” Lefou corrected. “By the time I was her age... she was already born.” “That isn’t exactly easing my state of mind,” Stanley grumbled as they watched the girls give Aurora one last hug before waving goodbye. “Sorry, Dad,” Charlotte said, as they began to walk away. “I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack back there.” Lefou snorted. “He’ll get over it if we buy him a churro.”

“Did someone say ‘churro?” A familiar voice asked from behind them. They turned around to see Barney, now sporting a smile and Gaston who looked a little green in the face. “Those rides were a lot more fun before I turned forty,” Gaston muttered, steadying himself on the handle of the wheelchair Charlotte used if she tired from walking too much. “You aren't suggesting we're getting old, are you?” Lefou asked, steering them in the direction of the churro line. Between this, the Mickey-shaped ice cream Barney insisted on, and the bucket of popcorn Stanley had refilled three times already, he was sure he was gaining a few extra pounds this week. “Never,” Gaston said, before turning to Charlotte. “Well, bud, what’s next?”

“Michelle and I are still on the hunt for more princesses,” Charlotte said, as Stanley handed her a churro. “Maybe there’s one out here for you, Uncle Gaston.” “If he hasn’t found one yet, I think it may be a lost cause,” Barney snorted. “Oh, really?” Charlotte said with a smirk. “... maybe for you, then?” Barney’s freckles appeared even more prominent on his face as he blushed… or maybe that was just the sunburn. “There’s Tiana, Daddy!” Michelle said, pulling on Stanley’s hand and pointing across the way. “You’re right,” Stanley agreed. “Barney, maybe this is your shot!”

Barney grumbled under his breath, his pale face now just as red as his hair.

Lefou couldn't help but laugh at his son’s disgruntled face. He wrapped an arm around Barney’s shoulder as they watched Michelle give Tiana one of her signature bear hugs.

“Oh, Bartholomew,” He sighed, as Tiana complimented Michelle on her dress, before greeting Charlotte. “I must say, you could do worse than a princess.”

Barney shrugged his father’s arm off his shoulder, but Lefou could see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Charlotte?” Tiana gasped, once Charlotte had introduced herself. “Why, that’s my best friend’s name! Are you sure that's not you, Lottie?”

Charlotte laughed, as she shook her head. “I’m not interested in kissing any frogs, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Stanley muttered from beside Lefou. “At least she's not kissing him.”

“Maybe he's already turned into a prince,” Lefou teased, reaching over to squeeze his husband’s hand.

“Lefou!”

Tiana offered to take a picture with the group, and while Lefou was usually behind the camera, Gaston offered to hold it to make a family photo of it.

“Say… uh, ‘frog’, I guess?” Gaston said, as the family crowded around the princess and flashed their smiles.

“Uh, frog, I guess!”

Gaston only groaned as he snapped the picture.

As they walked away, Charlotte leaned into Barney’s side. “So, what did you think of her? I bet I could get you her number. My name is Charlotte, after all. I have connections.”

Barney retorted with something Lefou was glad Michelle didn’t overhear.

Late afternoon was setting in and Michelle was getting cranky.

To counter her mood, Charlotte plopped her in the wheelchair and was pushing her towards the “It’s a Small World” ride for the third time that day. Charlotte was able to ride that one, and even though Lefou would have rather done anything but listen to that song for another fifteen minutes, he would never refuse her. “And here we thought she outgrew strollers,” Stanley commented as Michelle giggled when Charlotte hit a bump. “It can be fun to be pushed around,” Charlotte admitted, as they approached the line. Charlotte didn’t often use her chair, and it was mostly used to carry their bags, but Lefou could tell she was getting a little winded and may need to trade with her sister soon. “Do you want to sit down?” Lefou asked. Charlotte sighed, seeming to admit defeat. As much as she didn’t like to use it, insisting she was well enough to go without, it had been a long day, and they would be in this line for awhile. “Michelle, sweetie, can you stand up?” Stanley asked, reaching down to lift her out. “No, no, she’s fine,” Charlotte scooped her sister out of the chair, before falling into it, Michelle settled on her lap. The younger girl looked close to a nap. “Are you sure she’s okay there?” Stanley asked. “She gets heavy after awhile.” “She’s alright,” Charlotte said, letting out a breath. Lefou took over pushing the wheelchair as the line moved forward. “Do we really have to go on this one again?” Barney asked. “I think I’ll have this song stuck in my head for the rest of the day.” “The week,” Gaston corrected. “The month.” “The year.” “My life.” “I like the song,” Michelle chimed in, sleepily. “Do you now?” Stanley asked, throwing a mischievous glance in Barney and Gaston’s direction. “... Can you remind me how it goes again?” Michelle perked up a bit as she began a chorus of “it’s a small world after all...” “Dad,” Barney whined as Gaston let out a groan. “Just trying to keep a kid entertained for the next half an hour,” Stanley said, a little too innocently. “... it’s a small world after all!”

Their day ended a little earlier than they’d anticipated. Lefou always loved to watch the fireworks show at Disney, but they had another few days for that. Michelle had fallen into a heavy sleep, trapping Charlotte (who was also getting a little worn out) in her chair, and Barney’s combination of roller coasters and absurd amount junk food made him sick, putting him in a sour mood for the rest of the day. The sun hadn’t even begun to set yet, but they decided to call it a day and head back to the hotel. “I’d say that was a pretty successful first day,” Stanley said. He was sprawled out on the bed in their hotel room, scrolling through the pictures he’d taken on his phone that day. Michelle was curled up next to him, her pigtails in disarray, bangs plastered to her forehead. She had sticky ice cream residue on her dress, and Lefou saw a hint of sunburn on her cheeks. She was cuter than ever. Charlotte was resting in the room next door, while Gaston and Barney went downstairs to check out the hotel pool. Lefou couldn’t imagine swimming after a day like today, but he’d never been nearly as athletic as they were. He’d swim later. He fell onto the bed, taking care not to wake his daughter, before flipping on the TV. “Successful indeed,” Lefou agreed, flipping through the channels. “We wore Michelle out, at the very least.” “She’s not the only one,” Stanley said, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Lefou checked his watch. “There’s still an hour and a half before the dinner reservation.” With that, Stanley scooted down on the bed, fluffing the pillow a bit before closing his eyes. Unsatisfied with the choices on TV, Lefou shrugged and laid down on his own pillow, and in no time they were both asleep, Michelle snuggled up between them.

The next day was somehow even muggier than the previous afternoon, and it was still early.

Lefou was already drenched in a layer of sweat, and could feel himself growing more irritable by the minute. He didn't want to spend his vacation in such a foul mood, but if they didn't find air conditioning quickly, he might just melt into a puddle like that talking snowman in Frozen.

Stanley took the girls off to meet a few more characters, while Lefou and Gaston took Barney to ride the Haunted Mansion for what was sure to be the first of many times. Since it was his favorite ride in the park, they always made a point of hitting it at least once, and the line had been too long the day before.

Barney walked ahead of the adults, impatient to reach the line as soon as possible. Lefou and Gaston trailed behind, talking among themselves.

“He acts so high and mighty sometimes,” Lefou chuckled, as he watched Barney try and keep from racing too far ahead, “but look how sweet he is when he cuts the act.”

“Don’t you remember being a fifteen year old boy?” Gaston asked. “Between puberty, parties and wooing girls, you’re lucky he wants to spend a week with his old man at all.”

Lefou let out a dry laugh. “Our teen years were vastly different, my friend… and as much as I appreciate you, I hope my son doesn't go quite as crazy as you did.”

“I have to agree with you there,” Gaston said, honestly.

“Come on, you guys!” Barney called back to them. “We’re almost there!”

They were now at the entrance, and Lefou watched as Barney allowed a mother and her young child to cut in front of him before they entered the line.

“That was awfully nice of you,” Lefou commented.

Barney shrugged. “She was really little. I guess I could wait a little longer.”

No, Lefou didn't have anything to worry about.

“Okay, who’s thirsty?” Lefou and Charlotte were balancing handfuls of souvenir mugs in their hands, before carefully placing one in front of each family member.

“Do I want to know what you spent on the specialty drinks, love?” Stanley asked, taking a sip.

“Probably not,” Lefou admitted, falling into the seat next to his husband. He pulled his own cup close to his face, inspecting it. It was brown, with a rustic feel to it, but he couldn't identify the characters on the side. A handsome, rather muscular fellow in a red coat, and a squat little man with a large, pink nose.

“I don’t know who they are, but this guy is ugly,” Barney said, pointing at the smaller character on the side of his mug.

“Just think,” Stanley said, rolling his eyes. “Since Papa undoubtedly spent a fortune on these, we get to keep them forever.”

“I hope they stay in the back of the cupboard.”

“Actually, Papa,” Charlotte said. “I'm not sure why, but this guy has always reminded me a bit of you…”

“Should I be offended?” Lefou asked, taking a sip. Maybe it was a little expensive for a glorified cup of apple juice…

“I don't think so,” Charlotte said. “The other guy reminds me of Uncle Gaston.”

Gaston looked pleased at this fact.

“Do you know what movie he’s from, Char?” Barney asked. “I’ve seen his picture around, but I can't figure out who it is.”

“You mean you’ve never seen-”

Before Charlotte could finish her answer, Michelle let out a shriek, her pricey apple juice now spilled all over her dress.

Stanley sighed, before reaching into his backpack for his pack of trusty wet wipes.

Even though she wasn't his daughter, Charlotte had been a big part of Gaston’s life ever since she was born. He had spent many of his college days at Lefou’s apartment, holding that tiny little girl against his shoulder, wondering how he ever got to the point where his friends were having babies, and wondering if someday he’d have one or seven of his own to coddle.

Now his favorite Little Buddy wasn't so little anymore. Twenty-one years older, and was tall and smart and everything Gaston had hoped she would turn into, plus some.

He watched Charlotte fall into her wheelchair, pulling Michelle into her lap as Barney pushed them around. He loved each of his little “nieces and nephew”.

“Disney magic making you emotional?” Lefou asked, handing Gaston a bottle of water. “You look lost in thought… which is strange for you.”

Gaston chuckled. “A dangerous pastime indeed. No, I was just thinking about-”

Before he could finish his answer, Charlotte let out a gasp and then a snort.

“Oh, I am so getting a picture with him,” She said, pushing herself out of her chair, and taking Michelle’s hand.

She led their group a little farther down until they met her destination. Gaston never saw the thrill in meeting the characters at Disney World. They were just people in costumes, what was so exciting?

Upon closer inspection, he noticed this must be the man who was on their drinks earlier that afternoon.

A large man with padded muscles and a long black ponytail gave a charming smile as they approached.

“Well, hello there,” He greeted. “What brings you here to see me today?”

Charlotte was the only one who was familiar with this character, so the rest of the family hovered behind as she spoke to him.

“I just had to meet everyone's favorite guy,” Charlotte said, her smile growing wide. “Rumor has it there's no man in town half as manly.”

Even though Gaston didn’t know who he was, Charlotte was obviously smitten.

“Perfect, a pure paragon.” The man said with a wink.

“Now, who do you have with you today?” The man took in the crowd of people behind Charlotte.

“My dad, my other dad, my brother, Barney, my sister, Michelle, and my…,” Charlotte snorted again before continuing, “Uncle Gaston.”

The man’s eyes darkened as he looked Gaston up and down.

“Uncle Gaston, you say?” He crossed his arms as Gaston took a step closer.

“That's what they call me,” Gaston said, furrowing his brow. Just because he didn't know who this guy was, didn’t mean he was about to feel threatened by a children's character.

The man took another step closer. “You look like a strong guy, Monsieur.”

Gaston flexed his muscles (he could practically feel Lefou rolling his eyes behind him), and a smirk of his own crept over his features.

“Not nearly as much as me, of course.”

Gaston felt his face fall. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The other man flexed his arm, that annoyingly handsome smirk still tugging on the corner of his mouth. “I just mean I'm the strongest guy here.”

“Sounds like a challenge, doesn't it, Gaston?” Stanley taunted from behind them.

Gaston turned back to see him and Barney trying not to laugh at the interaction with this mystery character.

“A challenge?” The man let out a hoot of laughter. “This guy would hardly be a challenge… but I'm always ready for some healthy competition. How are you at push-ups?”

Gaston threw his head to either side, resulting in a series of crackling noises, before falling on all fours. “Oh, you're on!”

It was late, and Charlotte was sitting on Lefou and Stanley’s bed, snuggled up to her father’s side with the TV turned low, the light casting shadows across their faces in the dark room.

Stanley was asleep in the chair near the window, Barney passed out on the floor, and Michelle curled up like a cat at the foot of the bed. Their day had ended after watching the parade, Gaston heading to bed as soon as they arrived back at the hotel - still a little huffy about losing his little competition against the buff character.

Charlotte and Lefou were the only ones still awake to finish their movie, despite their own exhaustion. Charlotte yawned as she laid her head against Lefou’s shoulder. Michelle may have watched this movie hundreds of times due to her love for all things underwater, but Finding Nemo was really Charlotte’s movie with her papa.

When she was younger, she didn't understand why her father cried so much when watching a movie about animated fish in a dentist’s office, but as she got older, she began to realize.

It couldn't have been easy on him (or her mother, of course) when Charlotte was born. He became a single dad so quickly, only for his child to come out with some serious health issues. Charlotte absentmindedly ran her fingers over the large scar across her chest. It had been a source of insecurity for a long time, but she’d learned to embrace it, and it didn't bother her anymore. She didn’t even mind when Michelle asked questions if she wore a lower neckline.

She watched as Nemo swam with his lucky fin and she knew this is why her father loved the movie so much. It was just her and her papa against the world for so long, much like Marlin and Nemo… and like Nemo, she could have gotten lost.

Lefou stroked her hair - a mess after spending a long day out in the humidity - gently as they continued to watch. It was nearly over now.

Michelle rolled over, jostling the bed a bit.

It wasn’t only her and her father anymore. Now she had a full life with a big, loving family.

Barney let out a snort in his sleep, as Nemo and Marlin were reunited again.

Charlotte nestled even closer under Lefou’s arm and closed her eyes as the credits began to roll. She thought she heard him sniffle, but chose not to bring attention to it for once.

Despite the dozens of times she had seen the movie, for the first time, she felt herself get a little choked up as well.

It could have been so much worse. She could have been lost.

Thankfully - like Marlin - she knew her papa would always be there to find her.

Another reason Gaston tagged along for the trip, was because Stanley and Lefou’s wedding anniversary happened to fall in the middle of their vacation. They didn't make extravagant plans for the occasion, but they did want a little alone time to celebrate their nine years of marriage together.

Stanley pressed a kiss against his husband’s sleeping forehead to rouse him. It was early, but Stanley always struggled to sleep in past six, even on vacation. He was already showered, and his breath tasted of mint toothpaste.

“Morning, love!” Stanley greeted, cheerily.

His husband - who much less of a morning person - mumbled something, his face smashed into the pillow.

“Happy anniversary,” Stanley tried again, poking Lefou’s cheek, his coarse facial hair scratching at his hand. “Can you believe it?”

Lefou rolled over, his face no longer in the pillow, but it was now marked with pink wrinkle indents. “Believe what?”

Stanley situated himself against the headboard as Lefou groped the nightstand for his glasses. “Nine years, Lefou… that’s a long time.”

“You're making us sound old,” Lefou teased.

Stanley chuckled, pressing another kiss into Lefou’s hair. “Do you think Gaston will be able to handle the kids today?”

“He said he’ll take them to Disney Springs,” Lefou said, snuggling up to Stanley's side. “I’m sure they'll be too busy looking at souvenirs to act up.”

“That will keep them busy for awhile, then,” Stanley said. “Which is good because I have plans for us this evening.”

“Is that so?” Lefou asked, a smirk crossing his face.

Stanley nodded, a grin of his own spreading across his lips. “I’m taking my man out for a nice, perhaps overpriced dinner, have a drink or two, and then we can, um, come back here for awhile.”

Lefou snorted, and opened his mouth to make what was sure to be a witty retort, when they heard a (rather violent) knock originate from the door between their bedroom and the girls’ room.

“Sounds like Michelle is awake,” Lefou chuckled, as Stanley untangled himself from his spouse to unlock the door.

He cracked it open to reveal their youngest daughter, waving a folded piece of purple construction paper in the air.

“Happy anniversary, Daddy!”

“Good morning… Let’s see what you have there,” Stanley plucked the card from her hand, and brought it over to the bed for Lefou to see, Michelle close on his heels.

Lefou took the card and read it aloud, squinting as he tried to decipher the spelling of a six-year-old. It was a sweet note with a cute little drawing of their family, Lefou and Stanley holding hands in the middle. At the bottom of the card, Michelle had even convinced Charlotte and Barney to sign it.

“Thank you, darling, I’ll be sure to put it in my book when we get home.” Lefou said, kissing Michelle’s head. He kept all the cards and drawings his children made for him in a scrapbook he often liked to page through. He still had the first wobbly drawing of flowers Charlotte made for him when she was hardly more than two.

“What do we do on anniversaries?” Michelle asked, wedging herself between her parents in the bed.

Lefou laughed. “Daddy and I are going to dinner tonight, no kids allowed.”

“No kids allowed” were three of Michelle’s least favorite words, and she made her opinion known with a disgruntled noise.

“But you get to spend the day with Uncle Gaston, and your brother and sister,” Stanley pointed out.

Michelle's response was a much cheerier noise.

Before long, there was another knock at the door, this time it was Barney, asking if Michelle wanted to go downstairs for some breakfast.

Michelle's noise was the happiest of all for the promise of sugary cereal was better than anything else Stanley or Lefou could have said.

“Are you coming too?” Michelle asked, once she had reached the door and opened it, revealing her brother, still in his Superman pajama pants, and sporting an impressive case of bed-head.

“We’ll be down in a bit,” Lefou said. “Go on ahead.”

Michelle slammed the door behind her, and Lefou let out a laugh. “I love that girl more than anything, but she has far too much energy for seven o'clock in the morning.”

“Shopping, shopping, shopping,” Michelle sang as Gaston hoisted her onto his shoulders. Disney Springs was crowded tonight, and he knew her well enough to know she had a habit of running off when something interesting caught her eye.

Barney and Charlotte were beside him, debating on which restaurant was the best one to stop at for dinner, while Michelle was insistent to find something to add to her ever growing Little Mermaid collection. Gaston was just hoping to keep them out of their parents’ hair long enough for them to finish whatever they had planned for the evening… Perhaps he didn't want to know what they had planned, exactly.

“Ooh, let's stop here!” Michelle said, pointing her finger in the direction of one of the shops.

Gaston was starving, and was really hoping Charlotte and Barney would make up their minds soon so they could get something to eat, but he supposed they could make a detour while they decided.

He led them into the store, and placed Michelle on the floor. “Stay close to us, you.”

Michelle nodded, before taking Barney’s hand and leading him toward the back of the building.

“I guess she saw something she liked,” Charlotte snorted, before wandering off to browse the shelves herself.

Gaston headed to the opposite end of the shop, wondering if there was anything with antlers to add to his own house. The Bambi stuffed animal Michelle brought home for him after her last trip still sat proudly in his room.

“UNCLE GASTON!” Michelle’s voice rang throughout the store, causing a few people to look in her direction.

Gaston sighed.

Michelle weaved her way through the shelves (and customers) until she reached him, holding something red in her arms.

“It’s Sebastian,” She explained, offering Gaston the large stuffed toy. “He goes with my Flounder! Can I get him? Pleeeease?”

Gaston never was able to refuse the kids what they wanted, at least not when they gave him those big doe-eyes.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” Gaston asked, peering at the price tag… Well, at least Lefou had paid for his plane ticket.

“I do, I do, I do!” Michelle bounced on the balls of her feet, hugging Sebastian tightly.

“Alright, then,” Gaston chuckled, as Charlotte found her way back to them.

“I think I found an anniversary present for Papa and Stan,” She said, displaying a little snowglobe with Donald and Daisy Duck on the inside. Lefou collected snowglobes, and Stanley did love Ducktales.

“It’s perfect,” Michelle declared, giving her nod of approval.

“I like it too,” Barney agreed.

“Anything catching your eye, Barney?” Gaston asked, pulling his wallet from his pocket as they made their way to the cashier.

“Yeah,” Barney said. “The restaurant across the street… wait, is that a Mad Hatter hat?”

Splash

Barney pulled his head above water, shaking droplets out of his hair like a dog when he resurfaced.

“Hey,” Charlotte wiped her face dry with the back of her hand, where Barney had apparently splashed her with the force of his cannonball into the hotel pool.

“It’s a pool, Charlotte,” Barney laughed, using his hand to splash her intentionally this time. “You’re supposed to get wet!”

“I know, but my hair takes forever to dry,” Charlotte said, as Michelle floated by them, her goggles falling down her face.

Before Barney could retort, an even bigger splash soaked all three of them, this time Gaston was the culprit.

Charlotte sighed, wiping her face again.

“When’re Daddy and Papa gonna come in?” Michelle giggled, as Gaston pulled her from the water, before throwing her back in, her arm floaties causing her to bob like a buoy.

“Right about now,” Stanley said, walking into the pool room, and placing his towel on a table, Lefou close behind.

Michelle cheered as her parents walked tentatively into the cool water.

Michelle doggy-paddled over to Stanley, while Lefou - clad in a pair of heinously neon swim trunks - made his way to where Barney and Charlotte were wading.

“It’s humid in here,” He commented, already beginning to sweat.

“That's because you still have a shirt on, Papa,” Barney said. “Are you afraid of getting sunburned inside?”

If Barney didn't know any better, he would say Lefou was turning a little pink in the face. “Maybe if your father hadn't…”

Lefou cleared his throat, muttering something about his anniversary, and Barney tried not to imagine why he kept pulling his neckline a little higher, and why Stanley kept throwing mischievous glances in their direction.

Charlotte snorted, her laugh echoing through the high ceiling.

It was late on their final day of vacation, and Charlotte was sitting in her wheelchair, Michelle asleep in her lap. While she didn't want the week to end, she was exhausted, and couldn't wait to tell her mother all about her trip - and to sleep in her own bed again.

Barney was revoked of his wheelchair-pushing rights after he rammed into Gaston’s ankles three consecutive times, and Lefou had taken over, while his son followed sleepily behind.

The parade was enchanting as ever, and now they were all gathered around a garbage can in their matching Mickey ears, while they waited for the fireworks to start.

“You wanna see the fireworks, Michelle?” Charlotte asked, adjusting the girl in her lap.

Michelle mumbled something unintelligible and nuzzled her face further against Charlotte’s shoulder. Charlotte supposed they had already seen them a few times.

… and yet, they never seemed to get old.

Her father always told her the fireworks were his favorite part of the day, and Charlotte now understood why. She watched in awe as bright colors exploded over the sky and reflected on that beautiful castle, all while her favorite Disney songs played behind them. The first night they’d seen them, she cried… and she thought she might again tonight as a final farewell.

The song faded into “You’ll Be in My Heart”, and she was certain she heard Lefou sniffle behind her. That song always seemed to make him emotional for some reason.

Charlotte hugged Michelle a little tighter as the finale blasted, and she heard the ooh’s and ahh’s of the people around them, and thought she might have let one out herself. She couldn't help it.

The crowd erupted into applause, and Charlotte contributed the best she could with her sister constricting her arm movement.

“I’ll never get tired of that,” Lefou commented, as they followed the funnel of people out of the park one last time.

“It’s really beautiful,” Charlotte agreed, while Barney only yawned impressively. Their trip had apparently worn him out just as much as it did herself.

“But,” Stanley leaned down and lifted Michelle out of Charlotte’s chair, and onto his shoulder. “I still wish I could figure out who that princess in the yellow dress was!”

Charlotte smiled to herself, choosing not to say a word. She supposed he would figure it out on his own eventually.

#SHOUTOUT TO ALLY FOR BEING THE MOST PATIENT HUMAN ALIVE WHILE I DRAGGED MY FEET WRITING THIS #THIS ONE IS FOR YOU MY FRIEND #the last couple of scenes are a little rushed #those are just little bits i wanted to add somewhere #the pacing of this was so hard to figure out and i was only 75% successful in doing so #but i hope you can excuse that and enjoy it anyway #disney #beauty and the beast #lefou #stanley #stafou fan fiction #stanfou #stafou #random ramblings #weatherby writes

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mychaoticdiary · 4 years ago

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January, 6th, 2021

Dear Diary,

I’ve taken an edible so I can’t remember what happened first thing this morning. But my sweet senior girl looks worse than ever, her eyes are sunk in, she can’t stand for long, her meows get the attention of my other cat even though they never had in the past...I think she’s crying for help. My mom comes to me to tell me what I already know, we need to put her down. I agree, it breaks my heart. She calls the vet to get an exact quote on how much it’ll cost we were told around $200 the other night by the vet but now we’re greeted with a new number $446. My stomach falls, that’s just too high. We decline and we both just try not to cry. We call around all the quotes are $350 and up, it would leave us with no money for my other cat in case she also needs to be put down. What a nightmare. We call the Humane Society where we adopted her and just hope maybe they’ll have an answer on where to go, it turns out they do what they call ‘End Of Life Services’ it’s only $50 and we could get her ashes and a paw print for $150, it’s a life saver. How Ironic. I still hate Alanis Morissette. But they offer something else they hear our story out and offer instead for us to surrender her, they have a vet on board that can give her all the treatment she needs, they’ve got staff to keep her company, they’ve got everything. But everything that’s too good to be true has a catch. We don’t get to know what happens, we surrender her and sign a contract that says we won’t attempt to seek her out in the future and we understand that we can never adopt her again. We both cry as we agree. We both feel like failures but we know it’s the best option for our sweet senior girl, she could still have a few more years of life in her if she receives the right treatment, she could turn back into that happy purr machine I love so much...but I’ll never know. I’ll never be allowed to know. A selfish part of me wants her to just end with me so I can know but I shove that ugly part deep, deep down. She deserves a life if she can get one...even if I’m not in it. It happens tomorrow, we can’t chance waiting too much longer even till tomorrow seems risky. Me and my mom talk in circles, repeating the same words: This is the right thing to do. We’re making the right choice. This is the best option. It seems like we’re hoping if we say it enough we can beat down the ugly part of our minds that tell us we’re failures. She heads to work early, she needs to distract herself, I wish I had a job to do that with. Me and my friend talk, today seems to be filled with circles. We say the same things to each other: Sorry I can’t do anything to help. I love you. Your feelings are valid. I’m here no matter what. I love you. We both cry, we’re both so emotionally high strung, our minds can’t form any more words but we’re there for each other and we know it. We’ll make it. We always do. We have too. My good friend messages me, she’s had enough of heart break from her best friend of over a decade, she’s done with feeling ignored and pushed aside, she sends me what she wants to send her and asks me what I think. It’s angry and I see a lot of my own anger I’ve got at my own best friend in her words. It’s solid, it’s honest, it’s angry but it’s fair so I tell her to remove the swear words so her friend can’t write her off as ‘overly emotional’ and send it, she thanks me and does. My best friend messages me, she’s ready for the phone call that’ll explain everything that’s been happening. Part of me wants to say to her what my other friend has said to her best friend, I’m ready to be angry...but I just don’t want to be, I don’t want that to be us. I call her and it starts clunky, there’s tears as I explain what’s going on and I offer her a chance to say goodbye to my sweet senior cat. She helped take care of her when I worked nights, she’d come and feed her, play with her, it only seems fair though I mainly expect to hear a ‘no’ she says ‘I’m on my way’ and it feels like the best friend I once knew. I decide to shower, I smell and this is a good a reason as any to actually do something about that. I get in and start it only to hear a tiny thunk behind me I look over and see my senior cat, she has been in the bathtub recently for reasons unknown, I wonder if she just wants to be close and doesn’t notice that the shower is running but she walks over to the pooling water. Maybe she’s that thirsty? But she doesn’t lick up any water. I don’t want her to get wet and then get cold and get even sicker so I gently coo at her as I lift her up and out of the tub and try to start my shower again. Another soft thunk and she’s right back where she was before so I just watch and she comes back over to the pooling water and to my shock sits down and goes to lay down but I just can’t let her get that wet. I pick her back up and put her back out of the tub, I move the shower curtains to the outside to try and discourage her but it’s to no avail. I have to take her out of the bathroom and close the door, my heart breaks as I listen to her cry outside of the bathroom she just doesn’t understand but none of my soap is pet friendly and I just don’t want her to get any more hurt than she already is. The second I open the door back up she’s back in the tub, I lay down a towel and let her be, if it makes her content and comfortable I don’t want to argue with it. My best friend arrives, sometimes I forget she has a key to my apartment. Again the hello is a little clunky, we’re both a little off. But it’s good to see her none the less. We talk about the obvious and a mirage of sorry’s leave her mouth. I tell her about my friend and how she feels about her best friend, I open up and instead of approaching it angrily I simply tell her that I feel like we’re been drifting apart like that and I desperately don’t ever want to feel that way, I don’t ever want to write her an angry letter saying my heart is broken because of her and I don’t want her to write me one either. For the first time in months we open up. Both of us have been bottling things up this past year, trying not to bother the other, trying to keep things light during a heavy year. We talk about how the past month has just beaten us down and sat on us, we’re unable to get up as life laughs like a school yard bully. She had a pregnancy scare, her cyst got so bad she couldn’t go to work, two of her mice suddenly died both unfortunately violently, her boyfriends nana and cousin died days apart from each other, her bank account was empty. In short depression had eaten us both alive but we didn’t want to tell one another because we both just wanted things to be ‘good’ so bad when we saw each other. This talk feels like us. This talk is open and no guards are up. I try to find a speckle of sunshine from the darkness that is my cat leaving, at least it brought this up, at least I don’t have to lose my best friend too. I don’t like saying that but I have to find a positive in all this negative and this is a positive. Some things are going better for her, she finally got her vacation pay after 3 years, I don’t have the heart to tell her she’s been ripped off and it wouldn’t serve a purpose so I tell her I’m just glad she got it instead of scrutinizing the amount. She says it’s okay to ask for money if I need and I ask for a $100, she’s my best friend and money has never been weird between us, she knows I’d never ask for that much if I didn’t feel like I needed it. There’s no guilt she just agrees. She brought some art supplies for us to play with, it’s water colour brush pens. I’ve never been good at water colours but I love watching her, I make sure to shower her in praise, art should always be praised. I give it a shot after she encourages me. It’s fun and for once this is exactly what I want, this is how water colouring should be. I draw a jellyfish, a bumble bee and a koi fish. I’m going to buy myself this and I let her know, I don’t want to lie to her about where her money might go. She’s happy I like it so much and is okay with seeing her money go somewhere that makes me happy. The visit is good, surprisingly light hearted even with the important talks, nothing gets heated it’s all just soft sincere words of love. This is what I want for this year and I tell her that, she agrees. We’ll work together on being more open with one another again. She heads home and my chest feels tight, my asthma decides it time to act up even though everything went well. I’d rip out my lungs if I could, I hate my asthma. The rest of the night is much like the last, my heart breaks watching my senior cat struggle and I have to remind myself I’m making the best choice for her tomorrow. It’s hard to find a way to bond with her when I want to the most right now, she’s distant and usually I’d give her treats to make her happy but right now she can’t eat not even chicken can get her body to try. I settle with pats, her purrs are no longer boisterous and loud but quiet and eventually she leaves to visit her new found love of the bathtub. My mom gets home late, I know she’s having a hard time but I still try to talk to her to help her unwind she tells me she got so mad at work she threw things and then went on break, I feel horrible, I wish she didn’t feel like she had to bottle it up and I tell her that but it’s just the way she deals with death. It’s hard on her. There’s been so much death lately. Her longtime boyfriend died 3 years ago, our neighbors wife died a few months ago, her niece and my cousin hung herself less than three months ago, her friend had a miscarriage. It’s a lot. I do the only thing I can and just tell her I love her and that I think her best is more than good enough, I tell her I’m thankful for her. I mention my best friend’s sister gave her edibles to give to me as a sorry for everything that’s happening. I always offer her some but she never has any but tonight she says okay, it’s a small dose only 25 but I bite off 90% of it and give her 10 since she’s not used to it, she’s in bed within minutes. I want to be in bed but I told myself I’d do this so here I am at 2 AM...less then 12 hours away from handing over my sweet senior girl...this sucks but it’s the right thing to do. I realize after talking with my best friend and mom that I think I’m suffering from auditory hallucinations, I’ve always had them a little bit just when I’m trying to sleep. I sometimes think I heard a band or footsteps but I never paid much attention I just thought it was weird brain activity but the past 4 months have been more intense and this past week has been almost constant. I think I hear my mom call my name, I hear footsteps, I hear my cats meowing, I hear the tinking of their metal bowls, I hear noises beside my bed it always shocks me awake only to find out that the noises were never there. I’m going to ask my therapist if she knows what this is called and if she can point me in the right direction to get medicine for it. God, so much happens tomorrow...today now...I don’t know how I feel, I don’t know how I’ll react. I don’t feel much typing this but a small sinking feeling in my chest. Maybe I’ll take another edible.

#my diary #diary entry #diary #January 2021

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ficdirectory · 8 years ago

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Disuphere (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

THEN

Friday, December 25, 2009

Missing: 2 years, 3 months and 18 days

Josh was seriously starting to hate winter breaks.

Even though nothing was as awful as last year (chained in the basement for a week), this was still pretty bad. He had left to go visit His mom’s grave, which meant He was totally crabby during Something Else and then just left Josh chained to the bed in his room. There was a little slack (enough to go to the bathroom, or to His room - disgusting) but not enough to get to the kitchen or the front or back doors which were always locked with 17 billion locks.

He left a lot more food this time. Josh was relieved about that. The water situation was solid. There was heat. Josh had clothes and blankets. So he really should stop complaining. It was just...he didn’t expect to be left alone with the blaring Christmas music again. With nobody to talk to. Not even the deer head.

At least Josh had an alarm clock in his room and a skateboarding calendar to keep track of the days. (Josh remembered when He started asking what Josh liked. What other kids had. The calendar was the first thing He’d given Josh to help him fit in.)

Instead of thinking of his family, Josh spent hours organizing his food: How much was left? How long could he make it last? Should he have eaten the best things last instead of first? Too late now.

Ever since August, when He was super mad and kept putting Josh Down There for punishments, Josh had made it his mission to never have to go Down There again. But when it came down to it, not going made him so nervous.

Josh couldn’t even shut up about it and had to ask Him:

“So, I-- I don’t have to go Down There?”

He’d turned. Eyed Josh, still chained to the bed. “Have you done something to deserve it?”

“No. I’m just asking, because…”

“Relax. If you haven’t done anything wrong, you’re in the clear. Consider it your Christmas gift.”

“Okay,” Josh hesitated. He was staring in that gross way. Like He deserved something back for chaining Josh in a different room. Then, he remembered: “Thank you, Dad,” he recited.

So far, he was doing okay on food and water. Josh had organized it a bunch. Now what? He sighed, looking at his backpack. All the teachers in sixth grade assigned homework like theirs was the only class that existed. So, Josh did Social Studies and Science. Math and Reading. Language, he saved for very last. He wrote a haiku poem, because they were doing a whole unit on it in that class. He put DON’T READ in all caps at the top because they were allowed if something was personal.

Josh still knew better than to make anything seriously personal. If he did that, he didn’t want to think about what would happen. Bit his lip and rubbed his ankle where the chain was digging in. When they went back to school, Josh knew Mrs. A. was going to have them write about how break was. Josh could use the rest of the time (however long he was stuck here before He came back) to make up the best fake break ever. Family coming over. Lots of presents. And food.

Unfortunately, Fake Breaking didn’t take as long as he hoped. So Josh just decided to catch up on his sleep. He slept a lot but didn’t stay asleep because of the music and because his chains kept digging in. Josh woke up a lot - he kept thinking he heard Him coming back in for more Something Else.

Josh woke up for real when the music changed. It was the I’m So Dumb song. Goosebumps rose on his arms and when the music stopped for one or two seconds before repeating, Josh heard it:

A boy crying.

He lurched to the bathroom, dragging his chains and fell on his knees to be sick.

Josh was a terrible person. Happy he wasn’t locked Down There, when it was really because He was taking another kid. He needed The Pole and The Mattress and everything for the other kid. Josh was crying out of control, and felt like he was dying.

All this time - all these months - He had been talking about getting another kid, but Josh never thought He actually would.

Pulling against the chains, Josh screamed. There was no way to do what he really wanted and rescue the other boy. Because Josh couldn’t even save himself.

Finally, giving up, Josh lay down on the floor in the bathroom. He went to Level 3 because the blood was already rushing in his ears.

Josh never dreamed since being Here, but distantly, he had the thought: “Please let tonight be a dream.”

Then nothing.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Missing: 2 years, 4 months and 7 days

For almost three weeks, Josh kept waiting for the other boy to be allowed upstairs. Tried to talk to Him about, but He was distracted. His eyes shining in a weird way. He’d be downstairs then upstairs. When there was a noise He’d say it was mice.

That made Josh shiver.

Today, Josh came home to a note on the kitchen table. It said He was working late and Josh better behave and leave the music on. All the doors better be locked when He came home.

Usually, Josh knew, He waited around to be sure He could lock Josh in, but He didn’t today. Any other day, that would scream ESCAPE NOW, but his finger was still sore sometimes, and he was so scared of having to go Down There if he got caught. The truth was, Josh was too scared to try to escape. Plus, he knew there was another boy. And this was Josh’s chance to see about helping him.

There was no lock on the basement door, so Josh just waited until he knew for sure (mostly) that He wasn’t coming to check up on them. Then he opened the basement door and started down the stairs, shaking.

The smell was bad. The laundry didn’t even cover it. It was like an outhouse Josh used once, camping out, but worse. Nervous now, he flipped on the light.

There.

Josh’s stomach dropped.

The boy was skinny. Pale. Chains digging in. A hood over his head. No clothes. Holding still like he was frozen. (Oh yeah, the light.)

For a minute, Josh just stood there. Then, he forced himself to move. He got an old towel from the dirty clothes that looked so much cleaner than the boy. Then, he knelt, and with shaking hands, he took the hood off the boy’s head.

Grey eyes went wide with fear.

“It’s okay,” Josh said, holding his hands up. Looking the boy in the eyes. “I’m like you. Okay? I’m like you.” Pushing up his sleeves, his pant legs, his shirt, Josh showed the marks. Proof he’d been right here once, too. “My name is Josh. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not like Him.”

Josh put the towel over the boy, so it at least covered his lap and legs.

“I’m gonna untape your mouth. Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll try a different angle.”

The boy nodded. He was so skinny. There were tears on his face. Josh could see where they made tracks through the dirt there.

Josh winced, and went to work, carefully peeling away the tape. The boy made little noises but his voice was gone, like hoarse.

Finally, Josh got the tape off, and he stuck it to another part of the pole but not all the way. He knew he was gonna need to put it back on eventually, and Josh wasn’t about to go looking for fresh duct tape.

The boy started crying, but no tears came.

“What’s your name?” Josh asked.

“I-- Jacob…” he croaked.

“How old are you?”

“Eleven,” he whispered.

“Hey. Me, too. Oh, I almost forgot,” Josh reached into his sweatshirt pocket. Took out a can of Sprite, a chocolate pudding and a plastic spoon. (It paid to save your lunch.)

Jacob’s eyes got big. His stomach growled.

“I’m gonna help you with these, okay, but I just gotta check something quick. I’m not leaving you, I promise.” Josh ran up the stairs and and listened for a car engine. Boots. Keys. The clock on the wall said 4:11. Still almost seven hours ‘til He came home from work.

Josh just had to be careful. Because you never knew when He might come home spying.

Back downstairs with Jacob and the horrible smells, Josh opened the can of Sprite and held it to Jacob’s lips. “Be careful,” he urged. If Jacob spilled on himself there was the towel to wipe up, but there would also be evidence on it. They couldn’t risk that.

Jacob chugged the whole Sprite not spilling one drop. Josh opened the pudding and Jacob had it eaten in six bites. Again, Josh headed upstairs to throw the garbage away in the kitchen, so He wouldn’t suspect. Made sure to look around again. Listen again. No sign.

Back downstairs.

Josh sat across from Jacob and frowned. The chains he could see looked so tight. “Sorry,” he muttered. “If I had the key, I’d unlock you, and then we could run away. Get help.”

Jacob sobbed. “I want my mom!”

“Hey. I know. It sucks. This is gonna sound so bad, okay, but trust me: You’ve gotta just forget her, okay?”

Jacob wailed louder.

“Listen to me, okay? I was right where you are. I’m telling you this because it’ll help you stay alive: It’s easier to just forget. It hurts too much to remember them. If you try to find them, they’ll be in danger, too… You gotta be strong, okay? You can fight but don’t cry. Do whatever He wants. Disappear in your head, so you don’t think about it or feel it.”

“I don’t know how…” Jacob whimpered. “I just wanna go home. I want my family.”

“Well…” Josh thought. “What if I was your family? Just for now ‘til you get yours back? Like brothers or cousins, or something…” (Josh didn’t tell Jacob, but he had already started referring to him as “my cousin” in his journal for school.)

Jacob cracked a tiny smile: “Bro-sins,” he offered.

“Deal. So in order to get out of here, you have to do all the stuff I said. Then, you’ll be able to walk around like me, and then, maybe we can think of a way out of here.”

“I don’t know how to be strong, though…” Jacob hesitated.

“Are you alive right now after twenty days Down Here?”

Jacob looked surprised. (There was literally no way to tell days or hours.) “Yeah,” his voice cracked.

“Then you’re strong. I’m gonna go make supper. I’ll bring you some, okay?”

“Don’t leave…”

“Listen. I can’t visit you all the time but I swear I’ll sneak down whenever I can, okay? When you’re by yourself and scared, remember that I’m here, too. I’m in The House. And in The House, we only have one job.”

“What?” Jacob asked.

“Stay alive,” Josh said seriously. “So we can be rescued.”

“Okay. Bye, bro-sin,” Jacob called, trying to be brave.

“See ya in a few. I’ll bring you some pizza.”

Monday, February 1, 2010

Missing: 2 years, 4 months and 25 days

Josh kept his promise. Every day that He went to work, Josh visited Jacob. Two and a half weeks after they first met, Josh found Jacob inconsolable.

Checking him for injuries before grabbing a towel from the dirty clothes to cover him, Josh took off the hood and the tape.

“What did He do?” Josh asked, shaken.

“Said she died!” The last word made him choke. “My mom! He was saying I’d get to home home, but now He says since I don’t have any parents, He has to be my dad!”

Josh felt sick. Then mad. Because he was almost 100% positive he had just seen Jacob’s mom on the news today during current events time in Social Studies, and not for being dead. (There was a different name, not Jacob, but it was definitely Jacob’s face on the poster, and in the woman’s features.) She was talking about him. Saying they were still looking.

(Was Josh’s family still looking?)

It was a good thing his disappearing wasn’t a current event. It would be too weird seeing his own face while he was sitting in a desk three hours away. But Jacob had been taken from Santa Barbara, even further up the coast than LA. Much farther away from San Diego. Police probably didn’t even think to look for the same bad guy.

“Stop crying. Stop crying, okay?” Josh finally had enough and grabbed Jacob by the shoulders. Hung on tight. “Stop crying so I can tell you He’s a liar!”

Jacob froze. Stopped crying. Maybe stopped breathing from fear.

Josh let go, and Jacob dragged in a huge breath. Then another. Then another. Then he said: “What?”

“I swear, as your bro-sin, I am not messing with you. I saw your mom on TV in Social Studies today. She was telling you not to give up hope. That they’re still looking for you. He probably just told you that because His mom died and He wants somebody to feel bad like Him.” Josh took Jacob’s face between his hands. Stared at him hard. The hardest thing was to not be able to give Jacob a hug when he needed it.

(Jacob needed to get off the damn pole.)

“Your mom is alive. That’s true. She just said she’s not giving up. She just told you not to give up. So, don’t okay? Do what He says because you have to...but don’t believe Him. Promise?” Josh asked.

Tears flowed from Jacob’s eyes. Even with the towel, he shook with cold. But he swallowed. “Promise you’re telling me the truth?”

“Jacob, I wouldn’t lie about this. I’m like you. He did the same thing to me as he’s doing to you. I’m not like Him.”

“Okay,” Jacob breathed, his grey eyes locked on Josh’s brown ones.

Josh checked the time on the old-fashioned watch He gave him, instead of a cell phone. Almost no time til He came home.

“Sorry, bro, I gotta do this,” Josh apologized. He took the towel off first and put it back in the basket, giving Jacob as much time to look around, to talk, as he could.

Right before Josh put the tape back on Jacob’s mouth, Josh heard it, just a whisper from Jacob:

“Love you, bro. Stay alive?”

Josh nodded, tears falling down his own face, as he secured the tape in place:

“Stay alive,” Josh vowed.

Hood.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry.”

Lights out.

Engine.

Boots.

Keys.

Josh was sprawled on the floor, seemingly absorbed in homework in his room when He passed by. Level 1 was there to help him not show every damn thing on his face.

“Give you any trouble?” He asked, like they both took a kid from his family on Christmas night.

“No,” Josh said, as if he was surprised to hear mention of another person in the house. “Forgot he was even here. Maybe he’s sleeping.”

“Please God… That one’s such a whiner…”

“Please God...” Josh echoed - not a complaint - but a prayer.

#fic: disuphere #fosters fic

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