#I’m going back into my hole in the everglades

[mossy-paws]

Art dump (PHIGHTING)

Starting strong with this. Thing that a friend requested I saw, do I have regrets? No. Will it forever haunt me because apparently she has a shrine that she will not tell me about? Yes (ROSA I SWEAR TO GOD PLEAAAAaaaaSE WHAT IS THE SHRINE)

ANNND these things! These were style experience at and I honestly had a lot of fun with them LMAO, I was wanting to play with a more anime/manga-esc art style and it was pretty much so win :3

There’s also sword, this may or may not be a draft for mermaid au sword idk just maybe

(It was for a Twitter thing by the way! Just a small simple doodle I did for fun)

[vfdarkness]

AVFD Script - S2EP03 The Forgotten Man

[[Intro]]

You’re at a bus stop and your bus is late.

Finally, it pulls up, you step aboard, and for a brief moment… 

the driver’s facial features - their eyes, nose, mouth are in all the wrong places. 

As you stare, their face quickly rearranges itself to appear more normal. More human.

The door closes. There’s no one else in the vehicle.

You need my help.

[[AVFD intro music kicks in]]

This is A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD intro music fades out]]

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist, here to help you with all problems paranormal, supernatural, and otherworldly. And we have a wonderful show planned for tonight. There’s two national alerts for the state of Florida - one for the panhandle, and another for the everglades. After we go over these we’ll explore one of the strangest roadside attractions in American history. And of course we’ll finish our show with the phone lines open so you, our listeners, can call-in. But first, let's get to our national alerts

[[National Alerts music starts]]

A sinkhole has appeared in the middle of Kelson Ave in Marianna, Florida. The hole’s depth is currently unknown however twenty feet down, stone carvings of faces appear. The carvings continue for as far down as anyone can tell. Each is unique yet is made to grotesquely express either the emotion of fear or that of delight. A spelunker descended into the hole to gather information about its depth. Two hours into his descent contact was lost and he was pulled out. When he resurfaced he was said to be in a daze. He removed his harness and immediately jumped back into the hole. Please be careful while driving on Kelson, Ave in Marianna, Florida. 

Our second national alert is for the Florida Everglades. The Singing has returned to the wetlands. All those in the area are advised to wear hearing protection for at least the next 72 hours or until otherwise instructed. The source of The Singing is unknown but is said to compel all who hear it to walk into the wetlands and be devoured by the creatures there-in. Again, please wear hearing protection if you’re within earshot of the Florida Everglades.

And that’s all we have for national alerts this evening. 

[[NA music fades out]]

Next up we have Today In Odd America, where we’ll discuss a manifestation that once haunted every corner of this land. And afterwards we’ll open the phone-lines.

[[Today In Odd America]]

Today in Odd America we find ourselves across the highways of our country. Forty four years ago today marks the last known visit to a roadside attraction commonly called The House of Narcissus. No physical evidence of this place exists. It was never found in the same location twice - yet hundreds of oral testimonies swear to its existence. Tonight I will cobble together disparate accounts from those who claim to have toured the fabled roadside museum. My hope is this will paint you a picture of what the experience was like for those who wound up touring a space dedicated completely to themselves. 

“I was driving down Route 8,” Maise Bridges stated to the Columbus Dispatch in 1955. “It was late and dark. No other cars were on the road. Then I saw it - a billboard illuminated by a single dim light that read: Know Thyself, Next Exit. No other words. But next to them, taking up the entirety of the right side was a painted picture - of me. Unmistakably me. Done in a sort of… Norman Rockwell style I suppose. I just… What was I supposed to do? Of course I took the next exit.” 

All descriptions of The House of Narcissus begin this way. A strange billboard on a lonely road, mere seconds to decide to take the exit or not. Oddly, there are few confirmed cases of those who saw the billboard and kept driving. It’s impossible to say if that says something overall about human nature or merely the people The House chose to manifest for.

“I was overwhelmed when I first drove up to the house,” Curtis Johnson said to the Louisville Times in 1948. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I might have cried a bit. I mean the place was just, just magnificent. Out there, in the middle of this grassy field, in the middle of nowhere there’s this small piece of heaven, you know? I didn’t feel like I was about to tour some cheap-o roadside scam where they show you a mannequin in a five dollar gorilla suit and tell you it’s Bigfoot. I felt like I was home. Of course I rushed right outta my car up to the door. Why wouldn’t I? I was home.”

Descriptions of the museum are typically left vague. Abstract. At least when describing the exterior. Visitors will speak of the joy they felt upon seeing the house. Often they’ll say a sense of nostalgia or homecoming overwhelmed them. However no one was ever able to give a single concrete detail of what The House looked like. How many stories were there? What color was the siding? What the house looks like remains a mystery to this day. But there’s much agreement about its interior. At least in some respects.

“There’re no employees, no turnstyle to go through, nothing like a museum or roadside attraction typically has. You just go in the front door, and you’re suddenly there - in the first room. It’s filled with photographs along the walls. They were all of my family, friends, neighbors, teachers, former classmates, folks from my church, employers, co-workers. People I might have talked to only once in passing. None of these were photos I took or remember anyone else ever taking. None are in any photo album I own,” said Judge Michael Harvester in 1972, when he called into the KIRT radio station of Olympia, Washington. 

The Photo Gallery is always the first room visitors find themselves in. Under each photo is a brass plaque, on which a single sentence is etched: the last words said by whomever is touring the house to the person featured in the photograph.

Even this first room can be disarming to a visitor. As Judge Harvester said: “You don’t realize how many people you speak to, thinking you’ll do so again, but then never do. It adds up over a life. It really does. I didn’t look at all the pictures, or read all the plaques. I had to stop after awhile. I saw one in particular… the last words I said to an old neighbor of mine, lived a few houses away from the place I bought right after law school. Me, him, and some of the guys down the block would get together to play poker twice a month. Last thing I said to him, ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks.’ I don’t remember what happened after that. I guess the poker game fell apart. I don’t think either of us moved, I don’t remember us getting into any fights. But I never spoke to him again. And that’s just one example. People like to call that first room the photo gallery, and that makes sense, I guess. But that’s not what it is. It’s a monument. A monument to lost relationships.”

Most visitors to The House expressed regret coming there at all after visiting this first room. Unfortunately, the way they entered disappears after entry - replaced by a wall filled with photographs. Once you enter, The House forces you to continue through the rooms. That is, if you wish to leave.

“The second room was a full scale replica of my childhood home,” said Sara Lopez to the San Diego Tribune in 1966. “All five rooms of our house back on Balboa Avenue. “I went through the cabinets in the kitchen. The dishes… they were identical to ones we had. There were these little hand drawn designs on them. They’re abstract, hard to describe, but the plates in that museum. They matched perfectly how I remembered them. It was impossible.” Most statements regarding the second room share similar amazement at the level of detail on even the most insignificant items - stains on the carpet, entryways scuffed and dirty from children’s shoes. “What really got me about the second room, “Sara Lopez said, “were the smells. The kitchen had this overwhelming odor of garlic and cumin, spices my mother put in everything. The carpet near the entryway smelled like wet dog. Our lab, Daisy, would run through our neighbors sprinkler then come inside, right to that patch of carpet, and roll around. Little things like that, I’d forgotten about completely. Hadn’t thought of in years, but suddenly a million memories came rushing back to me.”

The average visitor reported spending somewhere between four to five hours in The House of Narcissus. There were outliers of course, in both directions. Some, after seeing the photo gallery, ran through the other rooms without lingering. Others claimed to have spent days and only left when they were near dehydration.

There are dozens of other rooms in The House. Too many to go over tonight. But I’ll end by stating what’s in the only obligatory room, the last room. The room with the only way out.

At the very end of a long hallway is a plain wooden door with a small sign above that reads: What if…

Inside is a small movie theatre. There’s a single red cushioned seat in the room with the perfect view of a small screen. To the right of the screen is a door with an exit sign above. The door will not open unless the visitor sits down in the chair and watches, truly watches and listens, to the film that plays in that small theatre.

“On the day of what was supposed to be my wedding I called my best friend - my bridesmaid. I cried and I gave her the awful job of telling my husband-to-be I’d changed my mind,” said Tonya Blanton to the Sante Fe Dispatch in 1958. “I was living in Minneapolis at the time. Born there, was to be married there, figured I’d die there eventually too. I don’t know what overcame me. But I got in my car and drove. Found myself in New Mexico and started a new life. My parents were furious. And I never spoke to the man who was to be my husband ever again. He sent me a letter when I’d settled in Santa Fe. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. But in that last room. In that last room of that awful house - a film played. It showed what my life would have been had I stayed in Minneapolis. I won’t… I won’t say what all I saw. What all I missed out on. All I’ll say is I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve thought about that every single day since visiting that terrible place.”

Tonya Blanton is not a unique case. Chicago journalist Studs Terkel in his book The American Road: An Oral History devoted a chapter to The House of Narcissus. He conducted over twenty interviews with those who'd toured the roadside wonder. When asked if they could change places and live the life they saw in that last room - would they? Every person he interviewed said they would.

The House of Narcissus only existed for some sixty odd years. The last known visit occurred in 1977, outside of Spring Green, Wisconsin. “People say I must’ve burned the place down or something,” Buddy Palmer, the last recognized visitor, said to the Madison Gazette in 1980. “I didn’t, I swear,” he went on, “but if I had some matches and kerosene on me, would I of? Sure thing. No one should ever be forced to watch the movie that plays in that last room. I’ll think of that picture the rest of my life. I’ll know I messed up early on and I’m not living my best, happiest life. You know how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning with that hanging over you? Sometimes that movie plays in my dreams. I usually gotta call in sick to work the next day when it does. I just can’t stop thinking about it. The rest of the place too… it’s just... Just too much.”

For those of you listening to this while driving alone, rest assured, you’re unlikely to see a billboard with your own face staring back at you and the words: Know Thyself, Next Exit. But in the rare chance such an event occurs, please consider my advice: don’t take that exit. Just keep driving. There are some truths about ourselves perhaps better left unexplored.

And now back to our main show.

[[TIOA music fades out]]

​​ACT II

RYDER

And we're back and we already have a caller on the line. Why don't you tell us your name and the nature of your supernatural problem.

RENE

Hello, Malcolm. I was wondering if we'd ever get the chance to speak again.

RYDER

(uncertain)

I don't recognize your voice. Have you called into the show before?

RENE

A few times, yes. And we met once or twice in person.

A beat.

RYDER

Who is this?

RENE

My name is Rene Dupont. And though I've explained this to you before, I will kindly do so again. I exist with a peculiar condition. People can rarely retain memories of me. Not in any form. As this conversation gets to a certain point, I'll begin to vanish from your mind as well as most of your listeners. If you try to write down anything about me during this call, you'll likely only produce gibberish or the vaguest of details.

RYDER

I've read case studies of similar situations. There was a man in Utah-

RENE

(interrupts)

Yes, yes.

Nathaniel Cotwell who lived in a small town that couldn't create new memories of him past the age of eight. And so as an adult they'd still treat him as if he were a young boy. You studied him and Sarah Pullman of Butte, Montana who went missing one night in the woods. When she found her way home again, her family had completely forgotten her.

A beat.

RENE

The few times we've spoken, you've wished to demonstrate knowledge of people who've existed with Memory-related ailments and those are your two most common examples.

RYDER

It seems we have spoken before. Mr. Dupont-

RENE

Please, call me Rene. No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances after all.

RYDER

Yes. Of course. And why have you called into the show tonight, Rene?

RENE

There's been a man following me. Repeatedly.

A beat.

RYDER

(realizing what he means)

And of course that's a difficult task to accomplish, as it's so hard to remember you.

RENE

You're correct. I am Anonymity Incarnate. But there's a man in a grey suit who seems to have found my scent. A further detail about him: he's missing one of his fingers. I'll let you guess which.

RYDER

Why is The Traveling Salesman after you?

RENE

I called you in search of an answer to that very question.

RYDER

In all likelihood he wishes to strike a deal with you. That's why he seeks anyone out. That, or to kill them.

RENE

Let's assume the former for the moment: what sort of deal would he want to make with me?

RYDER

I have no idea. Perhaps he needs information from someone. But he doesn't want this person to know they've given their secrets up. I imagine with your talent that's something you'd be good at.

RENE

Before the wall was destroyed in '89 I was employed on both sides doing something akin to what you just suggested.

A beat.

RYDER

Then that might be what he wants. Or perhaps something more... metaphysical.

RENE

Such as?

RYDER

Your ability to be forgotten. Julian already has some power over memory, but not that.

RENE

Could he really take that from me?

RYDER

Not take. Trade. The Salesman doesn't steal, Rene, but his deals are often one-sided, exploitive, as he'll neglect to tell you pertent information before you agree.

RENE

So he wouldn't really be taking something from me so much as he'd be giving me the gift of being able to be remembered.

A beat.

RYDER

That's a dangerous way of viewing such a deal.

RENE

Dangerous for you, perhaps, but of great advantage to me.

RYDER

It would be dangerous for the whole country for The Traveling Salesman to be easily forgotten. One of the few weapons we have against him are the memories of devastation he's brought about by the deals he's made. The only reason anyone ever turns him down is because his reputation precedes him. Take that away-

RENE

(interrupts)

I have the means and resources to go to many other countries. Julian Holloway can have this one.

RYDER

You'd potentially sacrifice hundreds of millions of people to-

RENE

(interrupts)

To be remembered. And yes, I would. This "talent" of mine came to me when I was young. For most my life I've been unable to have a meaningful relationship with another human being.

To even have an extended conversation. What's my name?

RYDER

Rene...

Malcolm searches his mind for the surname.

RYDER

Rene Dupont.

RENE

You're close to forgetting already, Malcolm Ryder.

A beat.

RENE

If I made a deal with your friend for him to take this power away, you'd never even know.

RYDER

The Traveling Salesman is not my friend.

RENE

If your former friend might help me where no one else could before, including yourself, then I would take him up on his offer.

RYDER

That is if he even wants to help you. He could be searching for you, as I already said, to kill you.

RENE

And why would that be his objective?

RYDER

There are limitations to his power. I don't fully know what they are, but I know they exist.

RENE

Again I ask, why would this necessitate him wanting me dead?

RYDER

Because you possess power in one of his realms - Memory and Dream. And if you have more power than he does, and if he can't use you, or your power, towards his own ends, he'll want you dead. You're a liability otherwise.

A beat.

RENE

You're bluffing. Trying to stoke fear in me so I stay away from him. So I can't make a deal. If what you said was true, your friend Charlotte Price would be dead.

RYDER

Charlotte has found ways to take care of herself. She's forged alliances with things even Julian fears. Have you done the same?

A beat.

RENE

What you're telling me is that I need leverage before I allow Julian Holloway to try and offer a deal to me.

RYDER

That's not what I'm saying at all. Under no circumstances should you attempt to make any deal with him.

RENE

That's not what I took away from this conversation. Thank you so much, Malcolm. As always, you've been helpful.

RYDER

No, wait-

Dial tone.

A long pause.

RYDER

There was someone on the line just now. I swear there was.

I have notes I made, most are illegible which isn't like me. Of what I can read: Shadow, Mirror, Flesh, Spirit, and Dream. I tried to write Memory but it seems my hand was unable to. Odd...

A beat.

RYDER

I think we'll end the show there tonight. I'd like to play back the recording of the past several minutes. See if I can see what I'm missing.

A beat.

RYDER

But if you're experiencing anything supernatural, paranormal, or otherworldly, please feel free to call in next time on A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD outro music fades in and out.]]

[prairiesongserial]

13.10

Cutter had a vice grip on John’s arm, pulling him back into the shadows.

“Hey, hey, hey,” she said. “That is not a good idea.”

John knew that. He glared at Cutter in the dark, hoping his face was visible enough to get the point across. Cutter grimaced back.

“Things are going well,” Cutter said. “Interfere, and they might go less well, okay?”

In John’s mind’s eye, he was marching through the crowd of Good Guys, following Cody and the King out of the hall, and if necessary, pulling Cody by his feet out of the Birth Canal. John gave Cutter another biting look.

“I’ll take you around the other side, okay? You can watch him come through to the lake.”

She didn’t wait for John’s answer before leading the way into a tunnel John hadn’t noticed in the near-darkness. Her voice bounced off the cave walls as she talked.

“It probably seems strange to you, but I’m not kidding. Things are going well.” Cutter paused, then started walking again. “The initiation’s rough, but you Dead-Eyes got a lot more out of this parley than any of us expected you would.”

Again, Cutter paused, and John realized she was listening to his cane. She was able to hear when he fell behind, and each time, she waited for him to catch up. “I’m not even talking about whatever information the King decides to give up,” Cutter continued. “The initiation alone is...” Cutter sucked her teeth. “Well, let’s just say the King likes Cody.”

John slowed as the path under his feet began to slope down. Downward slopes hurt. He didn’t know whether he was making the right choice, trusting Cutter, or if he should have taken his chances with the rest of the Good Guys. It was too late to change his mind, now. Now that Cody was out of his sight, John wouldn’t have much of a chance of finding him on his own. All John could do was hope Cody would be okay without him.

A few minutes later, the tunnel widened, and finally spit him and Cutter into another giant cave. The air here was cold, and in the darkness, John heard the sound of the pier of Everglades City, the sound of the water gently slapping against the wood beams. He shrank back into the tunnel.

“What are you doing?” Cutter asked over her shoulder. “Come here, this is worth seeing.”

John crossed his arms. But soon, he didn’t have any choice but to join Cutter in the cave. There were footsteps, lots of them, behind him in the tunnel. He and Cutter weren’t the only ones turning out to see Cody make it to the other side.

John made himself small against the cave wall as he heard Good Guys enter the cave just a few feet away. Then he heard the King’s unmistakable voice, close and loud.

“Go ahead and light it,” the King ordered.

Something happened that took John’s breath away. A tiny light appeared at the other side of the cave, showing just how big the room was. It was even bigger than the hall where the King had parleyed with Cody on her throne. The tiny flame wavered slightly, held by an arm that was just barely visible in its light. Then the flame bloomed, as a lamp on the cave wall was lit. John inhaled sharply as the fire moved along the cave wall, like a snake emerging from a crack in the stone. It was fast, circling the room before John had time to process the sight. The ring of fire ignited several lamps that persisted even as the fire that formed its path between them slowly died. The snake ended its journey in a lamp above John’s head, and he staggered back from the wall to watch the last of the traveling flame die, leaving only the lamps lit. 

The lamps now revealed John and the Good Guys to be standing at the shore of a lake deep underground. The lake reflected the orange light, but the lamps only made a semi-circle, leaving the far shore of the lake in darkness; judging by the slight tidal pull of the water, it was a very big body of water.

The Good Guys around John, who he could now see clearly, seemed unmoved by the spectacle. They stood in nervous anticipation, not talking much. Some paced, but most were still, their eyes inevitably returning to a hole in the wall of the cave that John wouldn’t have noticed if not for the Good Guys’ interest.

A soft grunt, transformed by the echo of the caves into a sound that barely registered as human, sent a jolt of energy through the crowd. John felt it, too, his heart beating faster with the bizarre understanding that Cody was as close to being a part of the mountain itself as a person could be, alive, encased in the stone, and for the minutes he spent inside the Birth Canal, holding the mountain up in what measure he was able.

Cutter stole a look at John’s face, but he didn’t acknowledge her, his eyes locked on the King as she pulled Cody out of the mountain by the arms.

“You get it,” Cutter said. It was a statement of fact. The quiet in the room had vanished, replaced by the buzz of celebration; food and drink appeared and made a circuit of the room as Good Guys laughed and chatted.

John rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, the dust from his shirt stinging more than the welling tears. Yes, he got it. He was moved, though frustrated by being moved in equal measure.

“You would have made a decent Good Guy,” Cutter said. “Something tells me the King won’t be up to initiate another stranger today, though.” She grimaced at him, another thought clearly occurring to her. “Especially not one who snuck in to witness sacred rites.”

John barely listened to Cutter, still watching Cody as he spoke with the King.

“Speaking of which,” Cutter whispered, “I think it’s about time I sneak you out of here. As a favor to Sailor. That neither of us will tell anyone about.”

“I’ll go on my own,” John said, after a long pause that had apparently made Cutter nervous. He understood that after a certain point, his presence here had become more of a liability to Cody than anything else. “As a favor to Sailor, you can…” He wasn’t sure how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“No favor about it,” Cutter said, and suddenly turned solemn. “On my birthright, Cody will leave the mountain.”

A Good Guy John recognized from earlier that afternoon jostled up against Cutter, holding a beer and wearing a grin.

“King wants you, Cutter,” he said, before disappearing into the crowd again.

Cutter shot John a look that meant “Keep your head down and I’ll be back to walk you out in a minute.”

John waited until she had joined Cody and the King before disappearing.

Finding his way out of the caves alone wasn’t easy. He found his way back to the hall, empty now except for its eerie green glow, without a problem. Figuring out which passage to take back to the surface was more difficult.

John tried several of the passages, having to backtrack when each one inevitably lacked the series of ledges that had given John so much trouble on the way down. John was relieved when he finally found the stairs. It was a funny feeling, to be glad to see something that was about to hurt him. First thing when he and Cody got back to camp, he would ask Enis if he really meant what he’d said about making John a brace for his knee.

John rested several times on the way up, but he almost needn’t have bothered. Rest or no rest, he hadn’t been in this much pain since he’d been shot.

“This was really stupid,” he growled at the stone walls, hoisting himself up yet another step, too annoyed to be delighted when it proved to be the last one.

The stone walls didn’t reply, as if tacitly in agreement. John grumbled to himself as he made the rest of the trek out of the mountain.

The sound of late summer cicadas ushered him through the curtain of moss that separated the inside of the mountain from the rest of the world. The sun was threatening to set. John sat down and waited.

John was jerked awake by a hand on his shoulder and Cody’s voice, too loud, exclaiming his name.

He blinked up at Cody, whose face hovered close, blocking out the harsh light of the sun in the west. His breath smelled like beer, and his eyes were bright, though full of concern.

“Did you walk all the way here?” Cody asked. “You must have been waiting for…” Cody had pulled his hand away from John’s shoulder. He examined the layer of dust that had come away on his palm in a long moment of confusion. Then his eyes flashed with anger. Why was he angry? John was the one who had a right to be angry.

“You followed me in?” Cody asked. “Why?”

He put the questions gently, but John had seen Cody’s expression. John turned his head sharply, looking down the path they would need to take back to the circus. Cody sat back. After a moment, he dusted off his palm.

“Are you finding the words, or not answering?” he asked.

Anger spiked in John all over, filling his head with buzzing. He set his jaw. He was reminded of how he’d held the reins of the Chokecherry mare, Blueberry, when she’d startled after seeing a snake. He’d clenched his fists around the leather straps with measured control as she’d danced in place, torn between the hand she trusted on the reins and her desire to throw John and run. If John relaxed his control even a little, he’d ruin everything.

Cody waited, looking at him. John kept staring down the path, listening to his own heartbeat in his ears.

“Alright, let’s go,” Cody said at last, his voice hard around the edges despite the effort he was so clearly putting toward patience. Why was he mad? What had John done except try to honor the terms of their partnership? Above all else, above love, even, John followed Cody.

Cody got to his feet, and waited for John to join him. John wanted to. He pressed his hands against the ground, the muscles in his arms shaking. His bad leg wasn’t taking any weight. John grimaced. It would have to. He would force it.

Cody’s hand hovered in front of him, offering to pull him up. Cody didn’t look mad anymore, his expression soft. Again, John’s frustration spiked.

“I’m mad at you,” he snapped, and he could almost feel the leather rein wrenching through his fingers. He snatched it back before he could say anything else.

Cody’s eyes flashed again; so he’d still been annoyed after all. John liked seeing it on Cody’s face better than having to guess.

“I gathered,” Cody said, hand still held out. “Come on.”

John took his hand, and Cody wrenched him to his feet. John bit his lip to keep from showing Cody how much pain he was in as his weight, even offset by the cane, settled on his bad leg. Cody had already started down the path. John took a step forward, and a whine escaped him before he tottered three off-balance steps back, into the boulder that he had leaned against earlier that day.

Cody was walking away. John breathed in, deep and slow. He wasn’t going to cry from pain, or frustration, or anger, or the sad, seeping fear that Cody didn’t really care that much about John one way or the other. He closed his eyes. A moment later, he heard Cody’s feet pounding over the ground as he ran back.

“Please, talk to me,” Cody huffed as he came up next to John. He wiped roughly - frustratedly - at the grime on his face, a mix of dust, sweat, and the grease paint he’d smeared around his eyes. “This isn’t fair.”

John grimaced when he saw Cody’s earnest expression.

“Fine,” Cody grumbled. Bewilderingly, he turned his back on John and lowered himself, bracing one knee against the ground. “Come on, let’s go home.”

John realized he was supposed to let Cody carry him on his back. It was the last thing he wanted, but he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to get back to camp before night fell. Holding his breath, he stepped forward. He wrapped one arm around Cody’s neck, the other still gripping his cane. Before John had time to change his mind, Cody had grabbed under his legs and stood up, hoisting John into the air.

Cody staggered under John’s weight, and John accidentally smacked him with his cane as he scrambled to hang on.

“Ow,” said Cody.

“Sorry,” John muttered.

“You know, I crawled through a tiny, horrible cave today,” Cody grumbled. He had recovered his balance and started to walk, carefully, down the path. Every few steps he adjusted his grip, hoisting John higher on his back.

John rested his head, listening to Cody breathe heavily with the effort of carrying him. The sharp edges of his anger had dulled into something he could sit with comfortably, without holding the reins so tight.

13.9 || epilogue 13

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 5 - FLA - Weird Win

The Florida Panthers thought they would be the Carolina Hurricanes by this point: the hot, young club meteorically rising to the top of their division. The Hurricanes seemed like they were a goaltender away for half a decade and patched that up enough last year to make the Eastern Conference Final. They’ve added a lot from coaching to forwards and they’ve only built the beast bigger this season. Florida similarly has pulled all the stops to turn their corner. With two playoff appearances since 2000 that organization has been long hungering for something compelling on the banks of the Everglades. When it comes to Panthers v Sabres there’s little to no history to speak of. None of the Buffalo News’ top 50 Sabres games of all time involve the Florida Panthers. Most Sabres fans of my generation associate them with the Eichel Draft occurring in their arena, the Mark Pysyk trade and… well that’s about it. Neither of those moments are games. To my parents’ generation I suppose the Panthers represent a fun Sabres away game side trip while visiting their retired parents in South Florida. I solicited Sabres twitter for Greatest Game Against the Panthers for Buffalo. Understandably you guys had just as much trouble as me finding anything notable about the 100 matchups these two teams have had over the years. Somehow I ended up getting four games notable enough for them to memorable to some people. Don’t worry, there are three other games against Florida this season. The other three games will get in here as well. The Greatest Game Against for today’s matchup however was submitted by @t31mcgraw. It’s the January 19th, 2001 matchup that saw aging Dominik Hasek defeat young gun Roberto Luongo in a matchup for the ages. It was 0-0 until the last ten seconds of regulation when Sabres forward Denis Hamel blocked a shot and returned it to the Panthers zone to win it. That’s a throwback right there. Now let’s talk about tonight’s game.

This game could have been as contentious as the Habs game Wednesday night. If it was then both teams had a weird way of showing it. This one was a weird one from the start as the first 30 minutes of this game was more or less two drunk men just throwing haymakers at each other in the words of @d4rkbuffalo. Confession: I missed those first thirty minutes due to a work event. I turned this game on confused. 0-0 halfway through the game? Beyond 5 on 5 expected goals most every advanced stats category was dead even through that first period. The Sabres were getting outshot but looking back on this game you really don’t notice it until the overtime period, but we’ll get there. I’m tempted to say the gangbusters powerplay Buffalo has had through the first four games finally hit a wall and that’s why it was so dull but there was only one powerplay opportunity in the first. All five of the other powerplays between both teams were inconsequential. The powerplay didn’t click but it was symptomatic of these two teams just whacking each other will limp pool noodles. Breaking through in this game would take someone or some players making mistakes. And so this one became a game of mistakes. You know who cleans up a game of mistakes? The goalies. Linus Ullmark versus Sergei Bobrovsky is not a matchup you’re expecting to be a spectacular duel, at least not from the Ullmark side. I’m the biggest Linus Ullmark fan not married to him in North America. Even I will say I don’t expect him to win a pure goalie duel against Sergei Bobrovsky but once again: this was a weird game all the way around.

A Sabres powerplay had just ended when Kyle Okposo and Johan Larsson came streaming into the Panthers’ zone in the last minute of the second period. This line has transcended being just a cliché checking line. These three veterans, all dudes we were begging to see shipped out over the summer have had a great start to the season. They’ve played a stout game defensively, frustrating their matchups and even getting the puck entrenched in the offensive zone against better competition. Call it the roaring twenties line or call it the LOG, its making hay out of dirt whatever you call it. Kyle Okposo covered by two defenders gets the puck over to Johan Larsson who shoots over the outstretched Bobrovsky and gets the Sabres out to a 1-0 lead. He falls over Bob like Bobby Orr. Okay. Sure! That’s a lead. I’ll take it no matter which guy wearing a bison on their jersey does it. That goal-less dynamo line finally gets rewarded! Moreover Marco Scandella saved a puck from the goal line in heroic fashion. It was certainly a weird one. Through that second intermission your thinking: okay, scoring effects alone have to even the score in this game, the most weirdly even-uneven game we’ve seen in a while. Then two minutes into the third period the LOG gets right back to work as Zemgus Girgensons skates in, drops it to Kyle Okposo, who drops it to Marco Scandella… yikes not him… *eyes widen* …did he just… score!? Yes, believe it or not, Marco Scandella just tapped it in past Bob like he was an Allstar or something. Did someone drug me at my work party? What is this? This can’t be Sabres hockey, even the new version doesn’t feature Scandella dingers. What’s going on? They reminded us who we were watching, don’t worry.

The Florida Panthers got a new coach over the offseason in addition to the Sergei Bobrovsky. The one and only Joel Quenneville. Three-time Cup winner with the dynastic Chicago Blackhawks. I don’t need to tell you who he is. Evidently the rough start for the Cats got him upset. He was bag-skating dudes in practice this week. Do you think the likes of Mike Hoffman and Aaron Ekblad are taking well to that? You think Eichel is tired of losing? Imagine being Ekblad and not even living in a place that knows you exist! They were not going to lay down and die after a couple scrubs scored on them. This Ullmark fan is going to be honest here: Linus was a little far out of the crease when Evgeni Dadonov came in and snuck it around him. They call him daddy in Miami. He sparked the Panthers comeback and comeback they did. The Cats got up and began shelling for the equalizer. And this is when the first and foremost flaw in Ralph Krueger’s coaching becomes clear. He moved Jimmy Vesey up to Victor Olofsson’s spot next to Jack Eichel and gee, I don’t know. I want Greasy Vesey to get going I just don’t know how to trigger him. Maybe when you’re clinging to a one goal lead late in the third against a divisional opponent isn’t the time. Just a thought. Krueger is still figuring out who to trust in these tight situations and hopefully he soon figures out the Scandella-Ristolainen pairing probably ain’t it. Hell, what do I know after this game? At this rate Scandella scores a hatty against Dallas on Monday, what a weird world! Anyway, after the shelling reached it’s fever pitch in the dying minutes of the regulation Mike Hoffman sunk a tight 4-hole shot and it was even with less than 15 seconds left! Yeah, that was a hair-puller. But it got worse.

I was certain, almost beyond convincing that they were going to lose the game in overtime. It doesn’t take a savant to tell you possession is everything in 3 on 3 overtime. It’s golden goal and its over so the dude who has the puck is making his team multiple times more likely to win the game just by having the puck! The Sabres had maybe a minute of possession the whole five-minute overtime. It’s a low-grade miracle the Panthers didn’t take two points in OT. They didn’t and so we went to the first shootout of the season. This is where the goalies matter most. Linus Ullmark was 2-2 in shootouts coming into this but well over .800 in shots taken on him in those shootouts. He’s a good goalie and the shootout is damn good evidence. No Panther got a puck past him and Jack Eichel and Casey Mittelstadt both had their fancy finishes. The Buffalo Sabres took away the two points and the 3-2 win from this one and successfully completed a two-game overpowering of two big Atlantic Division wildcard opponents. I’ll say this: letting each of these games go past regulation, giving both of Montreal and Florida a point in the standings is not ideal. There is a lot more hockey left, 77 games in this regular season in fact, so let’s see where it goes. I think it’s a safe bet that come next month we’re not talking about the Quenneville Panthers getting bag-skated in practice. They’ll turn it on and so will the Canadiens. The question remains: will the Sabres be a good team in November, December, January, February, March and yes, April? Or do we have another team here that will burn bright early and fade? I don’t know but I really hope we have fun, meaningful hockey in the spring. We’ll have to see, it’s not even winter yet, eh.

You might be reading this on Saturday. If you are tonight is the night! If you’re not… well tomorrow is the day! Tomorrow is the Third Annual Buffalo Pod-a-Thon downtown at Buffalo Riverworks! Doors open at 5:30 and most of the proceeds go to BB&G Charities. That’s $25 at the door and you get dinner with that, so I think it’s a good deal. Once you’re in you get me and about two dozen other Western New York Sports personalities to enjoy. I’ll be the one wearing a Rochester Americans Linus Ullmark jersey. I’m awfully proud I get to wear it the day after a performance like that! I know it will be fun and even if you’re not my biggest fan you’ll find something there you’re into. There’s even going to be a game show I hear! I hope you’ll come on down and come back here Monday night after the Dallas Stars come to town to take on the… wait for it… the 4-0-1 Buffalo Sabres! They haven’t started this well since the Ryan Miller era! Like, comment and share this blog with a friend. Hopefully I see you tomorrow!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. I want to join the pile-on Alex Nylander. He got a few games on the Toews and Kane line in Chicago and now he’s scratched. That sounds like the guy I remember! I still cannot believe we got Henri Jokiharju for that guy!

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 032821

28 March, 2021

Dear Dad--

Happy Sunday to you! It’s been an uneventful week, because the casino people still have me in hurry-up-and-wait mode. They were doing the background check and the pee test. Both tests should have come back with boringly predictable results; I have no criminal background, and I have no crimes in my whizz, either. They gave me a packet of information about the pee test, including lists of what they test for. They seem to test for alcohol, which is weird, but I guess the test is to determine if you have a lot of it inside you at that moment. Because if you can’t sober up for an 8:00 a.m. pee test, I suppose it indicates a potentially interesting personal life…?

So I’ve been spending my time cleaning all the things that don’t normally get cleaned, in case it’s a long time before I can clean them again. For example, I scrubbed the bathtub, cleaned the light bulbs in the bathroom, and waxed my car, Beige Lightning. I probably wouldn’t worry about keeping a 13 year old Hyundai waxed and shiny, except I own some Turtle Wax, and what the hell? I can watch the rain water bead up on the hood while I’m quarantining. I don’t wax the whole thing, just the upward-facing surfaces, like the hood and roof and trunk lid. Waxing the doors feels too fastidious for me. My thinking is that if you wax the parts where the rain will bead up, people will just assume you waxed the doors, too. Now I just need it to rain, so I can watch all the beads forming and feel like a proud motorist.

If it seems like I’m already straining to come up with a topic of conversation, I must admit, I thought I’d be working by now, so I didn’t plan much over the past week. I’m still unvaccinated, but the process seems to be accelerating tremendously, and it’s beginning to look like I’ll get my shot within maybe a week or two? With Zach getting his shot no more than a month after that. Downside of marrying someone of an earlier generation: I qualify as “old enough to get a vaccine,” while Zach does not. We can’t exactly start partying with our friends until we both get the shot, but it sounds like it’s going to be a glorious day when everyone we know has been vaccinated. I miss restaurants, and buffets, and movie theaters! Life returning to normal, kinda.

Oh, I made pad thai! I get the impression that there was a period in the past when making pad thai was more popular, like the fondue sets of the 1970s. I’ve always liked pad thai, no matter which restaurant made it, but I never attempted to cook it myself, because it’s a complicated dish. It has a lot of ingredients, including a few that I’d never buy otherwise, like bean sprouts (stupidly perishable), and fish sauce. Fish sauce is the most disgusting-smelling thing I’ve ever had in my kitchen, or my nose, for that matter. I was not looking forward to spending money to get an ingredient that I’d otherwise consider about as edible as enriched plutonium. But, I appealed to my inner Vulcan, and logic told me: Fish sauce, while repellant in every way, is present in every pad thai recipe I’ve found. It suggests that fish sauce has always been included in the pad thai, so maybe I should just trust the recipe and buy the stupid nasty sauce. My deduction was correct! You add fish sauce, but you also add rice vinegar, soy sauce, and brown sugar, things that ameliorate the smell of the fish sauce, and make it just another delicious ingredient.

When I had completed making the pad thai on Wednesday, I’d have to say it was a partial success. I had included too much pasta, and the flavor was a bit bland. But it was okay. The thing is, when I was packaging up the leftovers, I grabbed a big handful of the noodles and threw them away. Apparently, this made the leftovers exactly perfect, and Zach and I ate the leftovers with more zeal and yummy noises than we had the first time around. Now I want to make the dish again, because I know how much pasta (rice noodles, aka rice sticks) to use, and I can get all the ratios correct from the start. Kind of exciting, because I always viewed the dish as too lovely and complicated to make myself. Now I don’t need a restaurant to make me pad thai, because I found a recipe that allows me to do it at home.

I saw a good documentary about a plane crash lately! This one was a plane full of French people, which disappeared over the open ocean a few years back. Some wreckage came to the surface and was gathered up. Then they started doing searches underwater to find the plane, which took a long time. Eventually they found it, and found the two black boxes. Because I’m a plane crash nerd, I know that the black boxes are actually bright orange, to make them easier to find amid plane wreckage, and they’re not even boxes. And there’s two of them: the flight data recorder, which keeps track of plane and flight data, and the CVR, the Cockpit Voice Recorder, where they can listen to what everyone was saying in the cockpit.

After years, when they finally found the plane under water and got the two black boxes, they figured out what had happened. This, really, is the part of the generic plane crash story that grabs my attention and makes me want to learn more: when they piece together all the evidence and come up with a detailed timeline that shows everything that happened, and everything that went wrong. What happened this time? Well, a little probe thingy that sticks out of the fuselage and measures something (maybe airspeed?) got coated in ice and started giving shitty data. The plane recognized this and took itself off of autopilot. The flight crew, not knowing what was going on, and in possession of shitty airspeed information, put the plane in a nose-up attitude, but didn’t give it enough power. We all know what happens when you run out of power while going uphill in an airplane, right? Stall! The plane stalled, which kind of doomed their dumb asses.

Because it was at night, and because the pilot and the rest of the flight crew didn’t figure it out in time, the plane stalled. This means it stops moving forward like a plane, and just starts dropping like a rock. But as it drops it still maintains the same nose-up attitude, and because of that, and the fact that you’re obviously still moving, it can be hard to detect that you’re in a stall. This is where I need to learn more about this accident if I don’t want that part to bug me, because they stalled the plane, and then they just flew along happily, dropping like a rock, until they hit the ocean. Did no one notice that the altimeter was showing the plane falling to the earth with invigorating speed? Was there no audible alarm saying, “Stall! Stall! Do something, dumbasses! You're in a stall!” The good news about flying happily into the ocean, however, is that it’s unlikely that everyone died in a terrorized panic. Plane’s still pointed forward, still moving through the air, no worries. Beats getting sucked out of a hole in the plane and falling to your death, am I right?

I have recently rewatched a made-for-TV movie that used to scare the bejesus out of me as a kid: The Ghost of Flight 401. Remember that? This plane crashes into the Everglades. (Why did it crash? They focused so much of their attention trying to diagnose what was actually just a light bulb problem with their landing gear indicator light, that they experienced a brief period of, “Oops, no one’s flying the airplane,” and they crashed.) In the made-for-TV-movie, one of the flight crew was Ernest Borgnine. And after the crash, they recycled some parts from the crashed plane and installed them in planes still in service. Then dead Ernest Borgnine comes back and starts scaring the shit out of everyone in the planes that got the flight 401 plane parts! All based on a TRUE STORY.

It was the ghost of Ernest Borgnine that used to scare the hell of me. And the movie was spooky as fuck, and it came out in 1978 when I was nine years old, and for a made-for-TV-movie, it was really well done! If you recall, because I know we watched this when it aired originally, the movie ends when some of the people affected (including an Asian flight attendant woman, who’s stood out in my memory ever since) get together and have a seance to encourage dead Ernest Borgnine, and anyone else listening, to move on, and stop haunting our airline passengers, pretty please. You know, you can watch this whole thing on YouTube for free, whenever you want? I find it less terrifying now that I’m 52 years old, but it’s still refreshingly creepy.

Okay, time to wrap this up. Perhaps by this time next week I’ll have started my casino job! Either that, or at least heard back from them to bring in my gaming license application and get my ID photo taken. Hope the spring has sprung! All my love to you both!

[lbigreyhound13]

Truly Together Forever (BOTGD EU)

Okay, so this oneshot got really long, so I put the full story under “Keep Reading.” 

A lot of Grey’s family members will be referenced, so here is Grey’s family tree if you’re curious. 

(Takes place 77 years after the Rebellion) 

 August 13, 1122

Ninety-eight-year-old Grey Hertha Bergman-Felman…former Chief of the Haligan Tribe and former Lady of the United Revolutionaries…tilted her head back as the wind pushed back her waist-long snow white hair. The warm summer air greeted her as she and Shadow soared through the sky. 

It had been a long time since she and Shadow had flown together. With the passing years and both their aging bodies, it had become quite a task for both the former Chief and her loyal Night Fury to take off into the skies for a flight that it was almost rare for them to fly. Today, however, felt very different. Grey and Shadow both silently agreed that today was the perfect day for two 98-year-olds to fly to the mainland. 

“Such a beautiful day, isn’t it, Shadow?” Grey finally asked. 

Shadow crooned in response as she flapped her old wings. Even after not flying for some time, the old Night Fury was keeping them both in the air. Granted, their altitude was lower than how they used to fly, but it was still an enjoyable flight nonetheless. 

“We should be getting there soon,” the old woman finally said leaning back against her seat. When it became harder to sit up by herself, her oldest son, Sven, insisted that the village blacksmith make a saddle that allowed her to recline if needed. Of course, Grey was at first against it, but now, she had to admit that it was nice of her family to think of her like that and that it did help stop her straining her aging body. “Of course, given how old we are...it might take longer...” She laughed at her little joke.

Shadow chortled in response to her sister’s joke.

Soon enough, their first destination became visible on the horizon. The vast land has changed in the last 77 years, but that gaping hole where Perch Hall once stood was still there. She could never forget the tragic events of the witch attack...when Orskaf Donz unleashed Kiri’s witch powers upon the Rebellion. Only 1/3 of the Rebellion perished, and the camp was destroyed forcing the survivors to move to the Dungeon. 

As soon as Shadow landed near the piece, Grey slowly took her sword and stepped down using the sword as her cane and walked toward the piece of land with flowers in her arm with Shadow behind her. The former Chief knelt down and placed the flowers on the ground, and then both she and the Night Fury bowed their heads in a moment of silence. 

“I know I’m a couple months late, my former comrades,” Grey finally said. “Travel has become quite difficult in my old age. I can hope that you all have found peace in Helheim.”

There was another moment of silence before Grey finally stood up again. “Come on, Shadow,” she said as she mounted her Night Fury. “We have another important place to visit today.”

The former Chief and her Night Fury traveled North to the Everglades, and much like where Perch Hall once stood, the land was slowly changing as well. Time had a way of changing things, especially over the course of 77 years. The Grounded Dungeon was nothing but ruins...standing empty and abandoned after its last occupants finally left the bunker the Goddess of Helheim herself made for them during the days of Ragnarok. 

Shadow landed near the rotten building, but Grey did not dismount her and simply surveyed the structure. It was easy to see that time had indeed not been kind to the structure, as there was no sign of its former glory, and Grey was grateful for that. This dungeon was no longer the intimidating structure that loomed over all the prisoners and those outside it, and it no longer represented High Central’s cruelty. 

Grey smiled at that thought. “It may have served as a refuge for us during Ragnarok,” she mused as she gently pet Shadow’s head, “but this dungeon is where it needs to be...hidden and stripped of what it was before the Rebellion.”

Shadow crooned in agreement leaning into Grey’s touch. 

“Still though...no one can deny the good memories we had in this old thing...” Grey said after a moment of silence. 

Another moment of silence passed as Grey and Shadow looked up at the building one more time, and then, the silence was finally broken when Grey took a deep breath and looked down at her Night Fury smiling. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, girl,” she began, “but I think it’s time we head home. Traveling is not as easy as it used to be, and our family is waiting for us, I’m sure.”

Shadow crooned, and without hesitation, she flapped her wings slowly taking off into the sky allowing Grey to turn around and to look at the Grounded Dungeon one last time. She smiled and turned back to the sky in front of her. It was time to head home to Haligan Island. 

Back on Haligan Island, the former Chief and Grey’s successor paced back and forth along the cliff overlooking the docks. It had been a couple hours since his elderly mother...his 98-year-old mother took off on her just-as-elderly Night Fury toward the mainland. Sixty-nine-year-old Sven Felman looked up into the sky one more time for any signs of Grey before resuming pacing. 

“No sign of Nana?” a voice asked from behind. 

Sven jumped as he turned around only to find his sixteen-year-old granddaughter, Sassa, Erik’s daughter. “Oh, Sassa,” he said breathing a sigh of relief, “you shouldn’t scare your old grandpa like that.”

Sassa giggled as she walked over to Sven. “Sorry, Grandpa,” she replied, “Grandma and Great-Aunt Dagny sent me to look for you. So, back to my original question, no sign of Nana?”

Sven chuckled. “No, my dear,” he replied placing an arm around her and kissing her head, “not yet.”

“They’re probably on their way back now,” Sassa suggested trying to ease Sven’s nervousness. 

“Perhaps, I just worry because your Nana gets tired easily, and it’s been a while since she has flown this far with Shadow.”

“True, but Shadow would never let anything happen to her. They’re sisters after all, and Papa is probably watching over them and making sure they get back okay.”

The former Chief sadly chuckled at the mention of his late father. It had been only 10 months since he passed on, and ever since then, Sven and his younger sisters couldn’t help but feel the need to keep a close eye on their mother. That wasn’t to say that the entire family didn’t care because they did. They all wanted to help take care of their matriarch, but since it was their mother, Sven, Dagny, and Kari worked to make sure that their mother was happy and healthy in her elder years, especially when she was alone without her husband. She had Shadow, of course, Warren, Asha, and the entire family, but Grey obviously missed her husband with all her heart.

“Yes, I’m sure he is,” Sven finally said aloud.

Before Sassa could reply, a black dot appeared out of the corner of her eye, and she immediately knew who it was.

“Grandpa, look!” she shouted happily pointing to the black dot.

Sven looked up and smiled when he laid his eyes on the black dot. It was Grey and Shadow! They finally returned home! 

Both grandfather and granddaughter watched as the mighty Night Fury landed in front of them and bent down to allow Grey to dismount. 

“Nana! Welcome home!” Sassa said as she ran over to her great-grandmother as she slowly dismounted with Sven following close behind.

Grey chuckled. “Thank you, my dear Sassa,” she said running a hand through the teenager’s hair. “It’s good to be home.”

“Here, Mom, let me help you,” Sven quickly said. 

“No need, Sven,” she said as she finally made it to the ground with both feet. “I’m just fine. I must admit that I do love having this saddle seat. It takes a lot off my aging bones when I fly Shadow.”

“Ah, see?” Sven replied smirking. “I told you, and you said that I was fussing.”

Grey chuckled as she lightly swatted her son’s chest. “Don’t get cocky, darling,” she said. “Now enough of that, I believe we are to be in the Great Hall for the celebration.”

“I believe you’re right, Nana,” Sassa said wrapping her arms around Grey’s. “We wouldn’t want to be late, right, Grandpa?”

“Right, Sassa,” Sven replied smiling at his granddaughter. “Mom, may we escort you to the Great Hall?”

“I’d be honored, Sven,” she said wrapping her free arm around her son’s arm. “Shadow, come, girl.”

Sassa giggled as they walked together to the Great Hall in the center of the village. Being the oldest of Grey and Brandt’s great-grandchildren, the future Chief of Haligan Island was very close to her great-grandparents and grandparents. When she was little, she would spend time with them while her parents worked in the village or when she simply wanted to see them. Naturally, she was heartbroken when her great-grandfather Brandt died, but that only brought her and Grey closer. 

She made sure to spend as much time as she could when she wasn’t training to be Chief with her father to make sure that Grey never felt alone. Yes, she had Shadow by her side, and there was nothing against the Night Fury. Shadow looked out for her as well when she was young, and they continued to have good times together. However, that didn’t change the relationship between the Heir of Haligan Island and her great-grandmother. 

They finally made it to the Great Hall, where Grey was greeted by her two daughters, her daughter-in-law, her sons-in-law, her grandchildren, her great-grandchildren, her two adoptive sisters, and their respective families.

“How was your flight, Mom?” sixty-eight-year-old Dagny asked as she gave her elderly mother a hug. 

“Oh, it was wonderful, right, Shadow?” Grey replied before turning to her Night Fury, who crooned in response. She lightly patted her Night Fury on the head chuckling. 

“How far did you go?” sixty-seven-year-old Kari asked as she hugged Grey as well. “Sven was so worried that you were gone for so long.”

“Only because it’s been a while since Mom took that long of a flight with Shadow,” Sven interjected. “And don’t place all the blame on me. You two were looking nervous for a bit as well.”

“Darlings, please,” Grey finally said, “don’t make me ground you. I’m supposed to be done with that now. I appreciate the concern, but we were both fine. I promise.”

“Right, sorry, Mom,” Sven replied scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Sorry,” both Dagny and Kari replied in unison. 

Sassa couldn’t help but giggle seeing how her grandfather acted with his two younger sisters and how they all worried for their mother. 

“Now, let’s get this family reunion started,” Grey said. 

Life had become very busy for Grey’s family. The adults and the older children all had jobs around the village, and the younger children often spent time with Sven, Dagny, Kari, and their spouses respectively. Sure, she often spent time with her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and when she wasn’t with them, she found herself with Asha and Warren with Shadow alongside as always. However, before Brandt passed away, they agreed that once month the whole family would get together for a family reunion in the Great Hall. What a great tradition it was! The family grew large over time, and the tradition was still standing strong. 

As dinner was being prepared, the former Chief found herself sitting in her chair with Shadow sleeping next to her as she watched the younger children play with the teens in the corner of the Great Hall. 

“So, Nana, you didn’t say where you went with Shadow today,” Sassa finally said.

“Yeah, Nana, where did you go?” Thora, Olga and Even’s 6-year-old daughter, asked. 

Grey chuckled. “Well, I went to visit Perch Hall and the Grounded Dungeon,” she finally replied after a moment, “to pay my respects to my old friends.”

The children gasped in delight. 

“Really?!” Sassa asked excitedly. “You went back to the Grounded Dungeon and the camp?”

The former Chief laughed again at the children’s excitement. “Yes, I did,” she replied. She sighed thinking back on the memories of the Rebellion that occurred all those years ago. “I can remember as if it were just yesterday. Sometimes, I still can’t believe it’s 77 years.”

“Can you tell us a story from the Grounded Dungeon Rebellion again, Nana?” Helga, Gunnar’s 12-year-old daughter, asked quickly folding her hands together. “Please?”

“Please!” all the children said in unison. 

Thrilled by her great-grandchildren’s enthusiasm over hearing stories from a point early in her life, Grey laughed again. It made her old heart sore to see her great-grandchildren excited to hear the tales of the Battle of the Grounded Dungeon. It gave her hope that these stories would never die with her and would live on through her children, grandchildren, and now, great-grandchildren. “Of course, I can,” she finally said calming down from her laughter. 

The children only replied with cheers making Grey laugh even more along with the other adults. 

“Well, now, what story would you like to hear?” she finally asked. 

“I don’t know about them, Mom,” Sven said as the adults sat nearby to wait for dinner, “but I’ve always been partial to the one where you sang to King Haddock.”

Sassa gasped. “Oh, yes, that one’s my favorite too, Nana!” she added. 

“What about the one where Great-Aunt Warren tried to train the Whispering Death?” Halvar, Gustav’s 15-year-old son asked. 

As soon as he said that, a chorus of ooh’s and “I love that one” rang out amongst the children. It was pretty clear at that point which story was the most preferred. 

“Very well, then,” Grey said. “We’ll start with Warren training the Whispering Death, and then perhaps, after dinner, we will tell Sven and Sassa’s favorite story.”

The children cheered again, and then, along with the adults, they quickly turned their attention to the former Chief waiting for her to begin her story. 

“Okay, now, once upon a time, in the Wilderwest region, there was a HUGE dungeon known as…the Grounded Dungeon,” she began. Out of the corner of her eye, Grey saw Sven, Dagny, and Kari looking at each other, clearly remembering the introduction she used for every Grounded Dungeon story she ever told them, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself thinking back on those memories. Nevertheless, she remained focused on the story she was telling.

“Now this dungeon was guarded by the evil…Warden, a demon from the North, and the Warden was very mean to all the prisoners in this dungeon. Soon, the prisoners grew very angry at how the Warden was treating them so horribly. So,  King Haddock finally stood up and led the prisoners in a massive rebellion against the Warden...”

After dinner, Grey regaled the tale of the one night she sang to King Haddock with her family, and now, just like the one she told earlier, the story came to an end. It was time for the family reunion to conclude and for the former Chief and her family to retire for the night. Once she said good night to her grandchildren, her daughter and sons-in-law, and her great-grandchildren, Grey asked for her son and daughters to accompany her and Shadow on the walk back to her house. Sven, Dagny, and Kari were, of course, happy to join their mother and her Night Fury on a quiet walk. It had been a while since the five of them had some alone time. 

“Mom, you never cease to amaze me with your story-telling,” Kari said as they walked back to the very house she and her older siblings grew up in. 

“I’ve had years and years of practice, my darling,” Grey replied. “It’s nice to know that I haven’t lost my touch.”

The four of them laughed together at her comment. 

“You know, Mom, the three of us had been talking with our spouses,” Dagny finally said after a moment, “and we felt that--you know--with our kids moved out of our houses with their own families, maybe we could look into the possibility of you moving in with one of us.”

“Moving in?” Grey asked. 

“Well, yes,” Kari added quickly, “and it’s not that we’re trying to baby you or anything. It’s just that...”

“...Ever since Dad died, we’ve hated that you’re in that house alone,” Sven interjected, “and we think that if you moved in with one of us, we could keep you company more often.”

Grey could only smile at the three of them. “Look, guys, I really appreciate that you want to help me,” she finally said, “but Shadow and I really are doing just fine. Besides, I could never leave that house. It’s the house your father and I built together, the house that you all grew up in. I just...can’t see myself leaving it, at least not now.”

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” Dagny said taking Grey’s hands into hers, “but would you at least think about it?”

Grey’s smile grew before she placed a hand on her middle daughter’s cheek. “Of course, I’ll think about it, Dagny,” she said before turning to Sven and Kari as well. “Darlings, you have no idea how happy you’ve made me. I really feel like the luckiest woman in the world to have such an amazing family. You three are my rock, and you always have been.”

“I think I speak for Dags and Kari when I say that you are our rock, too, Mom,” Sven replied. “You always have been.”

“I love you three...so much,” Grey said pulling the three of them into a group hug while Shadow nuzzled them. 

“We love you, too, Mom...very much,” Kari said closing her eyes embracing the warmth of the group hug. 

When they finally pulled apart from each other, they resumed their walk to Grey’s house. After a few minutes, Sven, Dagny, and Kari made sure to help their mother to the front door with Shadow in tow.

“Well, this is my stop,” Grey said as she opened the front door. 

“I’ll come by in the morning to bring you to the healer for your check-up,” Sven said. “Then maybe, afterwards, the four of us and Shadow can have breakfast together in the Great Hall.”

“That’s a great idea, Sven,” Grey said. As much as she loved the family reunions, the former Chief always loved the opportunity to spend some quality time with her three children. 

Shadow crooned in agreement.

“I do, too,” Dagny replied placing a hand on Grey’s hand.

“Me too,” Kari added. 

“Perfect, it’s settled,” Sven said clapping his hands together.

Grey chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about you three,” she finally said, “but I’m so tired that I can hear the bed calling me.”

“I would imagine after that long flight you took with Shadow today,” Sven replied. 

“You need help with anything inside?” Kari asked.

“No, no, don’t worry, dear,” Grey replied. “I’m going to change, get right into bed, and write a letter to Aunt Seasick before I go to sleep.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear from you,” Dagny said before leaning in to kiss her mother on the cheek. “Good night, Mom.”

“Good night, Mom,” Sven said as he repeated the gesture as Dagny.

“Good night, Mom,” Kari said as she followed her older siblings’ lead. 

“Good night, my darlings,” Grey replied as she stepped inside. “I love you all. Never forget that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dagny replied.

“Not when we love you too,” Kari added.

“Good,” Grey replied. “Shadow and I will see you in the morning.” She then turned to the Night Fury standing beside her. “Come, Shadow. Let’s get into bed.” The old woman stepped aside allowing her Night Fury to go into the house first, and as soon as Shadow was inside, she blew her three children a kiss before closing the door as they returned the gesture. 

As soon as Grey closed the door, Shadow blew a small plasma blast at the fire pit illuminating the main floor of the house. 

“Thank you, Shadow,” Grey said as she made her way into the bedroom. However, she stopped when she noticed a very special painting on an old shield on the wall. It was a portrait of Grey and Brandt in their younger years with their three children smiling happily, and Grey remembered the day it was painted very clearly.

It was after she and Sven stood together for their portrait, which took its place with the past Chiefs and their successors. Both he and Grey wanted a portrait of the Felman family to be place in their home, and that was precisely what they did. She could only sigh as she focused on her husband’s face. 

“Gods, I miss you, Brandt,” she whispered. “You would’ve had such a great time today with our wonderful family.”

Shadow crooned sadly as she nuzzled her rider’s cheek as Grey leaned into the touch. “Oh, thank you, Shadow,” she said before placing a kiss on Shadow’s cheek. “I miss my husband with all my heart, but I’m also forever grateful to have had you by my side all these years. No matter what, we are together forever, you and me. I love you.”

The Night Fury crooned in reply as she nuzzled Grey’s cheek again. 

“Let’s go get some sleep,” she said. “Sven will be taking me to my check-up, and then we’ll have breakfast with Sven, Dagny, and Kari. Then maybe afterwards, we can take a flight around the island, hmm?”

Shadow chortled again in reply.

With that, the former Chief and her Night Fury made their way into the bedroom, where Grey changed into her nightgown and settled into bed with paper and ink to write to Seasick. Shadow took her usual spot right beside Grey on the floor with her head resting on Grey’s lap.

When she finally finished her letter to one of her best human friends, Grey yawned as she felt the fatigue of the day’s events taking over. She put her letter on her nightstand taking a mental note to send it in the morning  while Shadow went to the living room to put out the fire. As soon as the Night Fury returned, Grey blew out the candle and settled under the covers while Shadow curled up next to the bed. Grey looked down at the Night Fury as she settled down for the night and smiled gently scratching her head. 

“Good night, Shadow,” she whispered. 

Shadow crooned in reply clearly wishing Grey good night as well. 

The former Chief closed her eyes as the peacefulness of the night and the warmth of her bed and her sister right next to her relaxed her and allowed sleep to overcome her.

August 14, 1122--the next morning

The silence in the house was so deafening as Sven, Dagny, and Kari sat at their old dinner table with tears streaming down their faces. Their spouses thought it would be best to allow the three siblings to have some time alone while they went to pass on the news to their respective families.

“It just feels like a bad dream,” Kari finally said. “I keep thinking that she and Shadow are just going to come out of the bedroom ready to go to get breakfast.”

Sven reached forward and took his younger sister’s hand into his. “I know,” he whispered sniffling. 

“We were with her all day yesterday,” Dagny said as tears welled in her eyes. “She looked and sounded fine. The both of them did. Did we miss something?”

“We didn’t miss anything, Dags,” Sven replied. “It was just...time to go.”

Dagny let out another sob as more tears flowed down their cheeks. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “I just...I thought that...after Dad...we would have more time with her,” she said. “I-I didn’t think it would be this soon after him.”

“Let’s be honest here, there was never going to be enough time,” Sven said shaking his head. “No matter how prepared or how much time passed, there was never going to be enough time for us to spend time with her.”

“I know, but it still doesn’t ease the pain,” Dagny replied. 

“I didn’t think it would,” Sven said shaking his head, “but...there is one thing we can find comfort in.” Both women looked up at him. “Mom wasn’t in any pain.” He thought to how he found her and her Night Fury earlier that morning. “She looked like she was at peace, and she wasn’t alone. Shadow...her best friend...her sister...died alongside her. They promised each other to be together forever, a promise so strong that not even death could overcome it. Mom and Shadow are truly together forever now in Helheim, and they’re with Dad, Uncle Greg, Grandpa Sven, and Grandma Ingrid.”

“I suppose,” Kari said. Her big brother was right. Their mother was with her Night Fury and the rest of their family now in the afterlife. She could only imagine how happy Grey must’ve been to enter Helheim with her Night Fury by her side and to reunite with her husband, adoptive brother, and parents. “I’m still going to miss her though...both of them.” She began to cry again. 

Sven and Dagny quickly stood up and hugged their youngest sister tightly as they cried together. 

“We are, too, Kari,” Dagny said through her tears.

The three siblings cried together for a few more minutes before finally pulling away. 

“What are we going to do now?” Kari finally asked. 

“Well, we’re going to give Mom and Shadow a funeral,” Sven said, “but before we do that, we’re going to have to let some people know, like Aunt Nala and Aunt Seasick. Erik will notify the village and the rest of the Wilderwest.”

“Havelock and I can take care of Aunt Seasick,” Dagny offered. 

“I can help you track down Aunt Nala, Sven,” Kari added. 

“Perfect,” Sven replied nodding. “As soon as that’s taken care of, we’ll have the funeral.”

“We should make sure that Mom and Shadow are on the same ship together...side-by-side...for the funeral,” Kari finally said after a moment of silence. “Mom...Mom would’ve wanted it that way...to be sent out to sea with her sister right next to her.”

“Of course, Kari,” Sven replied. “We will do just that.” 

“I agree,” Dagny added.

“We’ll get through this...together,” the oldest Felman sibling said. “We may have our families, but we will always have each other to lean on, just as Mom and Dad said.” He paused to look at his younger sisters. “I love you both very much, I mean it.”

Dagny and Kari could only pull him into another group hug. 

“We love you too, big brother,” Dagny replied. 

(A Few Hours Later...)

“May the valkyries welcome you,” Chief Erik began, “and lead you and your  Night Fury through Odin's great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you've taken your rightful place at the table of queens. For a great woman has fallen: A warrior. A Lady. A chieftess. A sister. A wife. A mother...” he let out a shaky breath, “...a grandmother. A great-grandmother. A friend.”

As soon as the Chief finished, he turned to his father and nodded. It was time.  From Erik, the torch was passed allowing the older members of Grey’s family and Nala to light their bows as the younger children and Seasick watched the scene unfold with the other villagers. Once the task was completed, they turned to the old ship...the very ship that carried the bodies of Grey Hertha Bergman-Felman and her Night Fury, Shadow, as they laid side-by-side, slowly floating out to sea. 

The Chief of Haligan Island shot the first arrow, and once it landed on the ship, more arrows followed slowly setting the ship aflame in a true Viking fashion. The family of the former Chief and her people watched giving her and Shadow one final farewell. 

Sassa, the Heir of Haligan Island, slowly walked forward with tears rolling down her face. “We love you, Nana,” she whispered. We’ll miss you...you and Shadow.” She was jolted out of her thoughts when she felt her father’s hand on her shoulder causing her to look up at him. 

The young teenager hugged her father tightly as he returned the gesture. 

“I don’t want to ever forget her, Daddy,” Sassa finally said sniffling. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Erik said running a hand through his daughter’s brown hair, “and you never will. Nana and Shadow will live on in our hearts, our minds, and the stories that she told you and you will in turn tell your children one day. Future generations of our family will know of the stories of the Battle of the Grounded Dungeon and your great-grandmother.”

“A young woman,” Sven said walking up to his oldest son and granddaughter, “who joined the Rebellion to stand up to High Central, became second-in-command to a great Hero, died in sacrificing her life to save her beloved Night Fury only to be risen from the dead by the God of the Dragons, and grew into becoming a natural born leader.”

“Couldn’t said it better myself, Dad,” the Chief replied smiling at his father. 

[oneshul]

Korach: And the rejoicing began

           It was the Anniversary-Day, the day on which On ben Pelet, last of the Korachite mutineers, celebrated his survival of the Great Catastrophe. Little children of the Reuben and Levite tribes flocked into his tent, where Yecholah bat Nifla, his loving wife, gave the little ones cookies she baked from an old recipe—“As good as the manna we ate in the Wilderness!” swore the elders, some of whom still kept a small pot of the real manna, secreted away in their tents. The adults made do with the parched grain dipt into vinegar which Yecholah proffered them, and not a few had a nip of the special honey-mead which On himself distilled—“from an old family recipe, going all the way back to Egypt!” he would tell them proudly, although they knew it was not true. Slaves building pyramids had no time to tipple, even had there been anything besides the brackish water which the cruel Egyptian taskmasters gave the Israelites. 

           “We are lucky, all of us, to be free of slavery,” said On, sipping delicately at his own cup of mead.

           “Do you think that Merneptah will offer us reparations?” asked a young Levite.

           “Reparations? What—are ye crazed from the sun’s rays?” rasped On.

           “But, Master On, our ancestors—yourself among them—slaved for four hundred years!” persisted the tyro.

           “Now ye listen to me, younker,” said On, taking the young man’s robe, up by his neck, and twisting it until the young Levite gasped for air, “there will be no reparations! The Egyptians need all their gold to placate the Hyksos that threaten them. Well, no matter—” he continued, releasing the Levite from his iron grasp, “Let me tell my story—how I survived, and afterwards begat all of you.”

           “Ahem—” said Yecholah, “with my help, I’m sure!”

           “Oh, yes, my Dear—” said On, looking guilty, “We must always pay homage to the ladies—see that ye do, all ye Young Men!”

           The youth nodded guiltily; some had their affianced young women by their side.

           “And so, how I survived the Big Crevice, into which Korach, Datan, and Abiram fell—” began On.

           “And didn’t many of the offering Levites—those with incense—were they burned by Heavenly Fire?” asked a young Reubenite.

           “Ah, yes—” retorted On, “and you can bet that I kept my distance from them! Something, I don’t know what, told me to stand closer to Korach—what an orator he was! It just shows you how one fool can, through his bellowing voice, convince a mass of other fools to follow his stupidity—and I, there among them!”

           “And what did you do, Great-Uncle On?” asked a little Levite.

           “Do? Do? Well, I was just a youngster then, young man—just like you,” returned On, lifting his beaker to his lips. “And I saw that, while Korach had the people by the ears, the entire affair would end to no good—after all, Moses, despite being old and crochety, had the LORD GOD on his side. So, even while I stood near enough to loud, blustery Korach, I kept an eye on Moses. That was best....”

           “And what happened, Neighbor On?” asked an elder, who was standing next to the mead-cask.

           “Why, the ground split open!” cried On, “and Korach’s evil crew fell into a vast darkness—Sheol, Hades, or Hell, who knows?”

           “But why did you not fall into the hole, along with the miscreants?” asked a Levite teenager.

           “Because I held on!” said On, and flexed his still-strong muscles. “Let that be a lesson to all of ye—follow not a fool according to his folly, and avoid the mistakes I committed! And now, Friend Mezamer, sing us a song, and beat that tambour ye’re holding!”

           And the rejoicing began.

______________________________________________________________

Rabbi David Hartley Mark is from New York City’s Lower East Side. He attended Yeshiva University, the City University of NY Graduate Center for English Literature, and received semicha at the Academy for Jewish Religion. He currently teaches English at Everglades University in Boca Raton, FL, and has a Shabbat pulpit at Temple Sholom of Pompano Beach. His literary tastes run to Isaac Bashevis Singer, Stephen King, King David, Kohelet, Christopher Marlowe, and the Harlem Renaissance.

[timtamtalestakestwo]

We’re back...

It’s been a hot minute since our last update...I think the last one was reflecting on our Aussie Christmas which seems a very long way away now!

A couple of weeks after the last update, Tom and I started our annual leave with a short flight from Newcastle up to Brisbane to stay with my lovely friend Julia (my housemate when I first lived here 5 years ago) and her partner, Matt. It was great to finally introduce Tom to them both having talked about Julz all these years! It was a very flying visit, filled with lots of amazing eats, as is the thing to do in Brisbane!

From there we headed north up the coast to the even hotter climate of aptly named Sunshine Beach, just south of Noosa, where we stayed in a beautiful little Airbnb with a pool and a garden, and 50 metres down the garden track to the beach! We did some beautiful walks along the coastal path, interspersed with swims in crystal clear water to cool off! One morning, we decided to hire a double kayak, packed it up with 5L of water, lots of snacks, and even more suncream, for an adventure up Noosa river towards the Everglades! We passed one of Richard Branson’s many private islands, and kayaked many kilometres of both very narrow mangrove-lined estuaries to wide open river surrounded by eucalyptus forest. We were aiming for our turnaround point at a large lake about 12km away which was off the edge of the map we had, so over the last 45 minutes before finally reaching it, there was a lot of ‘it’s just round this next corner, I’m sure of it’ repeated for about 15 corners. We were so hungry when we arrived, and the lake was so big, we didn’t have the energy to kayak further to find a place to land, so we ended up wedging the kayak in the rushes so we could eat our lunch on board! The way back proved tougher on our spasming back muscles but many games of ‘I-spy’ kept us going, and the beautiful ‘golden-hour’ light as we kayaked the final stretch topped off an absolutely fantastic 8 hours of kayaking! We also made a trip up to Rainbow Beach and the beautiful Carlo Sandblow followed by a seafood platter feast!!!

We ended our stay by popping along to the well-known Eumundi markets and stumbled across an old map stall, selling original prints of maps from the 1800s/early 1900s from all over the world. I found one with Bosham on (with Sturts’ Farm even marked on it!) from the 1850s and Tom found an old one of Rutland which had his road marked on! Was quite odd to find in an old box in a small town on the other side of the world!

We arrived back on the same day that Tom’s parents finally arrived in the country! Was so amazing to see them and finally be able to show them round! Wasn’t long until we headed off down to Melbourne to start our big road-trip back up to Newcastle!

Our first night was on the 55th floor of the EQ tower in the centre of Melbourne – certainly not one for anyone with acrophobia but wow what a fantastic view! It was even more special at night with the city glistening beneath us! The Australian Open was nearing the final (we could even see the stadium from our bedroom!) so the atmosphere in the evening was buzzing.

It was just a quick visit as the following morning we headed out of the city, down the coast and then inland to our first of many rural farmstays, just near Neerim South. We’d been upgraded to ‘The Farmhouse’ and it’s safe to say we were all completely gobsmacked when we arrived! Given this was Tom’s parents’ first AirBnB experience we had some expectation management to do as not all AirBnBs would be this fancy! It was enormous, very smart, and surrounded by acres and acres of farmland filled with parrots, kookaburras, deer, wallabies and the (despite huge efforts) unsighted wombats!

I am aware that if I describe our whole trip in detail both I, and you will be here forever, so I will try to just let the photos to the explaining. But to summarise our route and highlights…

We drove from our first night to Walhalla – a beautiful and somewhat eerie old gold-mining town in the middle of the forest which once had a population of 5000 or so, and now of 10. Drove through lots of dry expanses of farmland to our next stop, ‘The Burrow’ – a house built into the side of a hill with gorgeous views and our own little echidna to watch emerge at dusk! I made sure we didn’t miss Raymond Island- well known for its large population of koalas. It was extraordinary walking around the island and looking up at so many koalas snoozing in the branches! 

Our next stop was the only place we had for 2 nights – a large house on stilts in Wonbyn, with yet another beautiful view across to the sea! We made the most the BBQ on the balcony and although the weather turned, we were treated to some very dramatic lightning storms over the ocean! This part of the coast is well known for it’s whaling history and whilst visiting a small inlet which was once a whaling station, we spotted a fairly decent size animal breaching the water every few minutes. It wasn’t like anything I’d seen before but thankfully I was with a couple of more-than qualified conservationists who suggested this might be a Dugong. The only thing being they are only found a few thousand kilometres up the coast and being a protected species, really shouldn’t be here…! Unfortunately we never found out if that’s what it really was but Tom (senior) did report it to the local marine agency who, perhaps understandably, didn’t seem overly convinced without us providing a photo!

Eden was a beautiful stop off and a fascinating hour or so spent at the Killer Whale Museum there, devoted to ‘Old Tom’ – allegedly the head killer whale who would signal to the whalers when the different whales they were after were in the area!

Next stop- a ‘farm motel’ near Bega (Bega being known for it’s cheese and peanut butter factory, what was there not for me to love!). Slightly less fancy than our earlier farmstay but the surroundings no less beautiful with a beautiful creek at the bottom of the hill where I spotted a couple of terrapins! We also went to the amazing Pioneers Museum in Bega which had a phenomenal collection of items from the last 150 years of the town!

Our penultimate night was in Depot beach, a tiny seaside village where kangaroos filled all the gardens and roads! It was also a great spot for some snorkelling and a close encounter with a big stingray! Again, the place was surrounded by rainforest which we ventured into for a beautiful walk down to a very still, tranquil lake, only be attacked by leeches!

We stopped off in Nowra – a request I had made, as my Grandparents had met there when my Gran had been training my Grandpa in the Fleet Air Arms in the 1940s. We visited the Fleet Air Arms base there (which is still active) and the museum attached. Saw the Fairey Gannet, the planes my Grandpa used to fly, and felt very special to be at the place that saw the start of such an adventurous life together!

The final night of our big trip was spent in a very architecturally pleasing converted grain silo on another farm a couple of hours south of Wollongong! It was an early sign of a good place when they’d left little chocolates on our bed on arrival!!! The farm was at the base of a big plateau, which had a Blue Mountains-esque feel with expanses of dense eucalyptus forest and beautiful waterfalls, swimming holes, and plenty of dragons and lizards!

My summary was not very short, apologies. There is a lot I haven’t even mentioned but I’ll leave it at that for now so you don’t fall asleep if you haven’t already! It was a wonderful week enjoyed by all – I’ll let the photos do the rest of the talking!

It was straight into a set of night shifts for me, and Tom and Gill continued their roadtrip north to Brisbane and back. They filled their last couple of weeks here with lots of trips to local National Parks and long walks, days on the beaches, snorkelling, and a week with my Tom at the end with a trip to Sydney and lots of delicious dinners out!! We had to sadly say our goodbyes this week as they flew back to the UK and the cold weather but was absolutely lovely to have them here for the month!

I hope it won’t be such a long hiatus before the next blog, and I hope it will also be a little more concise…

The next couple of weeks see our 3rd anniversary, my birthday and Tom’s birthday so I’m sure we’ll be keeping busy enough! Ooo and I forgot to mention that Tom’s visa has come through (so he is now on my visa) and doesn’t have to be deported so I will leave you with that fantastic news!

Have a wonderful week all! Love from us both xxx

[mastcomm]

What to Cook (Grill!) This Weekend

Good morning. I hope you’ll be getting first tracks at Mt. Hood in Oregon this weekend, pushing out of Timberline to hit Thunder to Phlox to Wingle’s Wiggle, then back up Pucci, en route Magic Mile. I hope you’ll greet sunrise at the edge of the Everglades, push down toward the Lostmans River, Watson’s Place, Shadow Country, and cast to rolling tarpon or hidden snook. I hope you’ll get out into Acadia for a few hours if you live Down East, hike the Witch Hole Pond Loop, warm up with some hot chocolate afterward. I hope you’ll end the day at Grandview, in Encinitas, Southern California, ripping swells that developed hundreds of miles to the west.

Not me. I’ll be looking out into the mealy-mouthed winter of New York circa 2020 and thinking about my grill. Live-fire cooking, after all, is an activity that can unite the nation, even if some of us will be cooking in layered wool, and others in flip-flops. (This time of year, if you visit the public park grills at Jacob Riis Park, in Queens, you’ll see how some combine those looks.)

What I’d like to cook, what maybe you could cook yourself: Momofuku’s bo ssam (above), but on the grill and not in the oven, the heat opposite the protein, with lots of wood chips to flavor the smoke. (Yes, of course, you can make the dish in your oven instead of going outside and firing up the grill. That’s how the recipe is written. But the fantasist takes it outdoors!) What a Saturday night that would be, along with a few dozen oysters on the half shell.

Though maybe a whole day of smoke-roasting is not in the cards for you? I get it. I’m wired differently. If you’d still like to grill, though: How about this awesome and speedy charred broccoli situation I learned to make from the chef Joe Carroll’s book, “Feeding the Fire”? You could pair that with some grilled sausages and radicchio, from Melissa Clark. Or her sweet and spicy grilled chicken breasts.

Back inside in your actual kitchen, you might cook some crisp-fried pork chops with buttered radishes, an Alison Roman jam of some distinction. I like one of the notes on the recipe from a subscriber called Discerning1: “At Step 1 spread a little mayo on both sides of the chop and then dip in panko. Panko adheres nicely. Good with fish fillets too.”

Creamy braised white beans could be nice this weekend. Likewise this vegan mushroom étouffée. Mango pie? Chocolate whiskey cake? Even if you’re not grilling or skiing or surfing or fishing, even if you’re just going to sit on the couch for most of the weekend reading “Three Women” by Lisa Taddeo, the world is your topneck clam. Prepare it as you like.

Go look around on NYT Cooking to see what other recipes strike your fancy. You may hit what we call a paywall. That will slow your roll. It’s what we call “friction.” It’s designed to encourage you to purchase a subscription to our site and apps. That subscription supports our work and allows it to continue. And I think you’ll find it worth your while, if you haven’t taken one out yet. If you have: Thanks so much!

Will you check us out on Instagram? We’re on Facebook as well. We break news on Twitter. We make short videos on YouTube. Come visit and, as they say, like and subscribe. (You can follow me, too: @samsifton on Twitter and Instagram.)

Please write if anything goes sideways while you’re cooking or navigating: cookingcare@nytimes.com. We will get back to you. You can always escalate matters by reaching out to me: foodeditor@nytimes.com. I take punches, enjoy mash notes, can direct you to services that’ll solve your problems, and would like to hear what you have to say. I read every message sent.

Now, it’s a solid three-iron shot from the (salad) green(s), but the rules hold that when Amanda Fortini has a byline, we need to read it right away. Here she is on the people who live in Las Vegas, who aren’t visiting, who make up the actuality of the place, in The Believer.

I’ve been enjoying “The Catch and Kill Podcast With Ronan Farrow.”

Also, the original season of “Top Boy,” from 2011, when Dushane and Sully were young.

Finally, here’s Buckingham Nicks, “Heartbreaker (Circles in Time),” and if it’s not a great recording, they’re still throwing off strong ’70s energy to take you into the weekend. Listen to that loud and I’ll be back on Sunday.

from WordPress https://mastcomm.com/what-to-cook-grill-this-weekend/

[kansascityhappenings]

Farmer gruesomely saves his own life, amputates his leg after getting stuck in equipment

OMAHA, Neb. – Kurt Kaser has been a grain farmer for more than four decades, but last month, the 63-year-old Nebraska man “paid the price of being in a hurry and not paying attention,” he tells WMUR.

As he was unloading corn, his leg got caught in farm equipment and he couldn’t get it out.

“Stepped into the [corn] hopper in the little hole. It just sucked my leg in and I was trying to pull it out, but it kept pulling,” he says.

He couldn’t reach his cellphone to call for help, and feared he would soon lose consciousness—or his leg would get pulled farther in.

Then, the gruesome solution: “I had my pocket knife in my pocket. I said, ‘The only way I’m getting out of here is to cut it off,’ so I just started sawing at it.”

He amputated the bottom part of his own leg, crawled 150 feet to the nearest phone, and remained conscious all the way to the hospital.

He was released from a rehab center Friday, and now must wait for his leg to fully heal before he can be fitted for a prosthetic.

He told doctors his goal is to get back to farming.

“It is what it is, make the best of it is all you can do,” he said. “I look at other people that were [at the hospital] and I still have most of my leg and hope to walk again soon,” he adds to NBC News. “There’s a lot of people in those places that’s in a wheelchair and they will never walk again. … You got to think of that.”

(Pinned logger cuts off toes to free himself.)

More From Newser:

3 Species Were Known to Go Through Menopause. Now It’s 5

New Python Hybrid May Spell Future Trouble in Everglades

Entire Arctic Expedition Perished, but Not Because of Lead

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/05/14/farmer-gruesomely-saves-his-own-life-after-getting-stuck-in-equipment/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/05/15/farmer-gruesomely-saves-his-own-life-amputates-his-leg-after-getting-stuck-in-equipment/

[mossy-paws]

2am Doodle(????) (PHIGHTING!)

Calling this a doodle since it only took like 1 hour and I speed ran it while sleep deprived at 2am absolutely blasting ano’s cover of god-ish

Anyways I don’t really draw this kinda stuff too often out of sheer personal preference but when I do it’s honestly kind of fire (+ it’s just fun to draw angsty stuff like that)

enjoy your food for the time being I’m going back into my hole

[killertransqueen]

this storm feels different. i can hear him playing imagine dragons in the room from my spot in the middle bathroom. in mine the water is shut off, so i'd be able to hear it beyyrt in there, but i can;t go in there. ots nice to hear readu aj m fire though. its been a while since i listenend to imagine dragons but i remember that song being one of my favorites. im tying this without looking at the keyboard, in the dark, in he bathroom. but this storm feels different because its late, and theres no wpppwer, and its sgarting to get kind of hot. emily is asleep, so i cant hang ojt with her, and i havet got my phone or my laptop charged all the wau, so its only a matter of time before they die, wbich will sick. but the hole jn the batjroom floor helps a lot, bevause a big just of wing will bring in a little nit of ait. does that make anu sense? i,, truing to tupe in the dakr and im not as ofood at this as i thougt. i got one of the blinking butterflies from my mom, and i'm in my room, so i can see my keyboard now. i would go back and erase and fix my typing mistakes, but i think it's funnier that way. i'm gonna play music on my phone.

also if anyone steals my phone, the passcode is "faggot"

now i'm listening to skating polly's "stop digging". i wish i could make songs like them, but i don't think i could. i dont really feel things anymore.

i woke up and the power went off, i just realized that. i was half asleep pretty much, but o wask awake when the power went off. i had the fan on in my room, and the door was open just a little so i could see the light in the living room because mom came in to get her phone. and sje left the door open a little. the lights cut off and i heard her laugh her weird, kind of creepy laugh. i thought the power was going to come right back on, but it went out at 7;30-ish, and its 9;48 right now. i think we're going to go to the resturant tomor-----i tyed that all in the skating polly song.

now i'm making myself listen to mindless self indulgence's "witness". i dont really like their music all that much. but if im in the mood i can listen to the whole "if" album. sort of. i like the beat in "never wanted to dance" and "sex for homework" and another one i cant remeber but it's about sex too. god i literally cannot remember the name of that motherfucking song. anyway but i dont really like them because their songs are fucked up. like :stupid motherfucker" i think it is where jimmy says "should i talk slower like youre r******d" and i really hate how hes a grown ass fucking man saying that shit like its funny.

i wrote all of that in witness playing, now i think its a bratmobile song. it is a bratmobile song.

i changed it to where its fall out boys "americas suithearts" funny memory about that song--d asked me one time last year in mrs. smiths class what song it was tht has a really animated music video. i said it was carpal tunnel of love bevause thats the one where its in the style of happy tree friends and holy fuvk id that music video super fucked. but he said that wasnt the one so i tried thinking and i found out that it was actually americas suitehearts, so i told him that but when he looked it up it swouldnt show. so i told him he has to spell sweethearts like suite in a hotel, and then he got it. i dont know what but i thought that was king of funny. my ear hurts. i pierced it on august 16 and it was suppose to be healted all the way already, but they got infected ahain so i have to wait. i wrote all of that in the span of americas suitehearts. my favorite seether song is one now, but im gonna change it because its really low quality

now its seethers "gasoline" i really like this song, intresting favt-- seether is from africa. i didnt knw that, i thought they were all full american

the power cae back on for a full five seconds, then split back off. im gonna keep my stuff plugged into the wall though. widow by destroy boys just went off and now im listening to memohis mayfires "virus" and i really like this song. but the music video had him almost doing blackfce if i remember right

vampires will never hirt you by my chemucal romance just came on. mvr has some good songs and i dont know why i never listeneed to them all that much until revently but i really like this song by them called surrender for the part at the end where gerard gives out a really emotional "you can fight this all you want" for the way he says want. ut the song in general sounds really fucked up because it sounds like its about rape. :you can fight this all you want, but tonight belongs to me" really sounds fucked up. i thought the last album they had which is the true lives of the fabulous killjoys came out in 2013 but it actually came out in 2010. also monster pipelines punch and minute maid lemonade taste good but this is my last monster becaue they give me panic attacks.

everglade by l7 is on and thats my favorite song by them, i wanna do a cover of it for the band i have. i have a band by the way, and suzi gardner follow me on instagram. rednecks on parade is a really good phrase i love l7. im gonna try to write songs now

[polaris-love3]

I walked back out onto the stage and hovered over my coworker. For a moment, I felt guilt for what I was about to do. Her pussy flowed with juices and her asshole puckered. Her eyes were dazed but elated at the sight of my cock. If only she knew how much she was getting. My dick slid into her mouth and I skullfucked her for so long that I lost track of time, hungrily alternating between holes, fucking and fucking like an animal on cocaine. Every time she pleaded for mercy I pushed the tip of my dick against her lips and came, holding her head to the tip. I came until her guts swelled as large as they would, and then cum fountained from her ass. At the point I pounded her throat still cumming for days. Slowly cum replaced the water filling the lakes in the park. The last emotion Sally showed was wide eyes when the cum level met her chin. Her reaction drove me into a final frenzy that lasted until cum reached my neck. Even still I fucked her. I raped Sally for 14 years. After fucking her passed any reaction except orgasm, I grew frustrated, and for the final 5 years I fucked Sally with the legitament attempt to bring her to the brink of death, hoping for a reaction. Instead I continued to pound the living fleshlight I produced just 4 months after the start of the ordeal. I began to rape the alligators who eagerly engaged. After breaking 200 the drugs began to wear off. After the 250th break, they slowly began to overwhelm me. I couldn’t make it to 253 before they overpowered me, and I mostly slept while 350 alligators had their way with my rock solid monster cock and factory balls.

I walked out of the shower and looked in the mirror. I was lean and muscular, and my soft cock still made a threatening bulge in the towel I wore. I sat down at the computer and opened my e-mail. The last one was 14 years ago, from my boss.

‘Jacob, Sally turned in her letter of recommendation for you yesterday, so I’m appointing you manager of the park. Your salary has increased to $268 an hour and I figured a workaholic like you should be paid hourly. As an added bonus, if you stay overnight at work you don’t have to clock out, and in addition I’ll triple your hourly for every hour of overtime you work in one shift. As manager you now are responsible for the payroll, and I’ll let you decide how much to pay Sally. I know she likes to slack off, so whatever you deduct from her salary, you can take the leftovers.’

You looked over to the time stamp and saw that you and Sally have been clocked in for ~122k hours each, meaning you had made a nice fortune.

‘In addition, the park has only female gators. They can survive off cum, so feeding them is part of your duties now.’

You looked out into the park. Much of it was still flooded with cum, and hundreds of pairs of eyes floating on the surface surely hid massive gators underneath.

‘When I was growing up, if we had a problem, the solution was to just use more ammo. You haven’t had many sales, so I’m sending you monthly batches of gators until I see some dollar signs. Also studies show that being gay is the new thing, so I’m sending Nile Gators to you. They’re 8 foot tall slabs of muscles and cock, and have the second highest rape warning in the world, second to Zebras. Female Egyptian gators that fuck humans get stuck permantently birthing male Nile gators. Their cum is so virile that any female gator they fuck will breed enhanced versions of Nile gators too. The EPA scooped up a pure female gator and has slowly been restoring the Nile gator population in South Africa, so we’re all good there. But a female Nile gator can’t be bred into exhaustion until we feed them honey, and retrieving female gators is dangerous. This is a long way of saying that Egypt is basically paying people to take all these nile gators off their hands, so I’m expanding the park and linking them with secured gates. Wouldn’t want any of our females getting knocked up by then.’

You look up and notice a gate you didn’t seem to remember. You go around the park to different breeding grounds and fuck the gators that swam up to shore. They were massive and fucked like beasts, but you loved it and loved how they could take 4 feet of cock without flinching. As the sun began to set, you walked back to the employee house. Sally was inside. Her tits and ass looked like they belong to a penny whore. You pushed your dick past her lips and into her throat, and a most escaped her lips. You pounded her for a solid hour before releasing your load into her stomach. You grabbed an iPad and continued to fuck her throat while looking through applications for new employees. You loved having a living fleshlight, and the idea of fucking more girls in a drug induced rape fest hardened your cock. You listened to the soft moans and lewd sounds your throatfucking made while you reviewed the 9th application. All of them were solid picks, with 7 being horse girls, you knew they could take a cock. Applications 4 and 9 wrote that they had experience with oral, with candidate 9 holding multiple blue ribbons in county contests for deepthroating her stallion, long beating her contestants, but instead yearning to break her own records. You set appointments with all of them tomorrow afternoon and tossed the iPad to the side, focusing intently on the throat in front of you. That night you lay awake in bed. You climb out and walk over to the gate, stepping inside.

The stentch of cum hits your nose as you enter the Nile Park. The doors open and you see a wooden walkway several inches above the water lit by a small light every twenty yards. Two hundred yards away you see a building, but everywhere else you look you see nothing but swamp stretching into the night. You walk the path until you reach the building, and you step inside. There’s a computer which you boot up. An inventory program logs all incoming shipments. The original park holds about 600 gators, but this park had a capacity for 400,000. You check the spreadsheets and look over the contents. You open a file to read

‘S CLASS NILE CROC’ followed by... 393,740. The park you had just discovered was almost entirely filled. You shoot an email to your boss, who replies almost instantly.

‘Hey sweety, the vet says you’re taking really good care of my crocs. He says he’s never seen them in such great health. Thank you so much! I knew I trusted you as my manager, so I giving you another promotion! I was thinking about building another park, but then I started to think about other solutions. Our park sits on the border of the Everglades, so I bought the whole national park! I reached out to Egypt, and they’re going to start bringing all the Nile Gators they can catch to the park! It’ll take a while for the paperwork to come though, so we’ll keep the first dozen or so shipments at your park. “Capacity” for your park is one gator every square kilometer, so I think you can fit the 10 million or so gators that each shipment brings just nicely. I’m not sure how they’ll behave though, but you’ll figure it out!’

You sat back in your chair. All you wanted to do was move out of Florida, but now you’ll be running the largest rape swamp in the world. In this reality, the Everglades extend into the Caribbean, meaning all of the islands, Cuba, and Haiti have been swallowed by a near continent sized swamp. A park bigger than half of the U.S. is now mine to control. You thought back to what brought you here, and your eyes light up. You remember the years down in the sewers, deepthroating gators. That was so long ago, but you remembered how nice it felt. Your eyes look out into swamp around you. You take off your clothes and walk over to the equipment closet. Inside are two spray cans. One makes you sexually invisible to the predatory gators, while one attracts them, meant for baiting gators into traps to capture and study, a fine mist is sprayed onto a reinforced fuck toy, and within minutes a horny Nile gator will enter the scene and begin fucking the toy. I took the can and sprayed my face for a solid minute. The pheromone dripped off of my face like sweat. I walked out onto the dock and jumped into the water. It was chest depth, and warm. I slowly waded over to a sand bank and got onto my knees, waiting. The sounds of the swamp filled my ears and before I knew it I saw a pair of eyes glowing in the dark. Slowly emerging before me was the largest and most muscular gator I had ever seen. And his 6 foot throbbing cock was pointed straight at my mouth.

[brookeshuckmagellan2017-blog]

Days 7, 8, & 9: May 27 - 29, 2017

Since these last three days were my last in Ft. Lauderdale, I decided to spend all three back at Everglades Holiday Park. Also, because I did the exact same thing three days in a row, I decided to just make one post about them so that no one becomes too bored. On these days, the airboat rides were much better. This was partially due to my guide (I had the same one all three days surprisingly), but also due to the fact that I got to see wild alligators swimming around the boat all three times. 

On these tours, I got to learn a lot about the behavior of wild alligators when it is very hot outside. Alligators, being cold blooded creatures, like to keep their body temperatures around 84 degrees. So, when they are too hot, they will do one of two things. The first is that they will go to a shallow area of water and dig a big hole in the mud. They will then lie in the hole and stick their feet as far into the mud as they can. This helps to cool the gator off. The other thing a gator might do is simply sleep under the water. In this case, the alligator will sink to the bottom of the water. They will then slow their heart rate down so that it beats only about 2 times per minute. This enables the animal to hold its breath from anywhere to 2 - 4 hours at a time. That by far has been the coolest piece of information I have learned yet!

On these airboat trips I also got to see a lot of birds including vultures, Isabelle the water chicken, and also her new chick Junior. If you do not know what I’m talking about check out the blog post from day four! Once again I fed them popcorn and watched them interact with our tour guide. 

The alligator wrestling shows that I saw on these three visits were sadly not as exciting as the first one I saw. I believe this is because Paul was not the one doing the actual show. However, the shows were interesting because they were all performed in the water, where as Paul did his shows on the sand. Also, after observing the alligators that were held in the pit, it seems to me that alligators that are help in captivity with little space are a lot less active than alligators that have space to swim and move around. Overall, I was happy with my visits to Everglades Holiday Park, but I am excited to start handling captive alligators!

[djojeb-blog]

Years Gone:

Written: Tuesday-September-9-2008-8:05.P.M.

Years Gone:

Can we all just get along? True enough, I think I had enough!

Living life just like a song, True enough, I think I had enough!

Doing right when it feels oh so wrong, True enough. I think I had enough.

Can we all just get along? True enough, I think I had enough!

Can we all just get along? True enough, The world is looking at us, Like who is us? What is love? But like beating a dead horse.

No remorse, Or no sorrow. For a lost cause, A lost boy, Lost in the sauce.

And years gone.

The world is our song, Who is love? I think that I just want a hug.

True enough,

Pack your bags. Get your stuff. Because your making me sick. Who is love? When is enough? What is love? When is love? True enough?

Our stuff, Back stage passes. What is love? To what is love? To what do I owe this demeanor from heaven above. Heaven sent like a dove. Holy spirit, Holy one. Holy love, Undercover. Holy one. What is love? Who is us? Like who is us. Holy one,?

Is you true enough?

Let’s make love in here, Dutyed up. HaHaHa LOL What is enough? When is enough? Purified in my lies, Purified in my mind. Like neighbors in love.

Spit it like who is us, It’s hot in here. So go get a cup. And make some tea.

For the years gone.

You see the spirit be watching, Policeing and copping. His watch he be watching, Synchronizing, perfect timing. If time is eternal? He gonna be rocking. Ain’t no time to be stopping, The blocks he be watching. Evergreen everglades, Of greys blues and color hues. Of a muse, So shrewd and confused. Like an apple that fell far from a tree, And stepped on you.

Like the years gone.

Spiritual hymnal, Lyrical copping.

I think they’ll remember me, I’m a renegade in the shade, forget the sage, I’m an archangelic being living free and happily, like a renegade. Under the shade. Where they’re throwing shade. I am me.

Under the shade, Is the trees, Playing spades. So free and happily.

I think they’ll remember me, The year of december. I think they’ll remember me, But I don’t remember. I think they’ll remember me, In this song. I think they’ll remember me, But I won’t remember,

The years gone.

By: DJ OJEB

New Chambers:

So this is how we gonna do, Speaking youngin for the crew. Wheres the sour brew? Chewing on my phone like a pendant indented pen pencil. What to do? Woe is you. Woe is me, Woe to you. Nothing new,

In these new chambers.

Nature calling through and through. Eternal, Timeless. Like a muse. Nothing new,

In these new chambers.

I’m lucky like a four leaf clover, I’m hot like a toaster. You can get the right and left, boulder, and bold, boldest, hottest and coldest icy hot cold shoulder, Amusement poster. Amused like a fuse, On a four leaf clover.

I’m lucky like a four leaf clover, Never sober. I’m getting older. Like your mamma always told ya. Looking at the man in the mirror, And he’s sober. Seldom getting older. Giving everybody the cold shoulder, And seldom getting older, Like everybody done grown older. Like everybody told ya , Wheres the remote ya? Turn the tv on and there’s a boat in the lake, And a baby momma with a stroller.

In these new chambers.

By: DJ OJEB

I Am Me:

Early morn, While the world is gone. I shine through, The amazing evergreen everglades, Of blues and rainbows hued.

Cued to the sound of the blues in my ears, Rescued from death, And seth he is here.

Step dads on rollies, With rollies they appear. The aliens in the sky, Of grandma’s years.

Polos and holes like three feet deep, Singing la la la la la. In the neck of the streets.

In the neck of the woods. In the jungle, I am here with a message for you my dear. Singing la la la la la. I am here, And I am me.

With tears in my eyes, Of a leer. A deer caught in the head lights, Blood all smeared. I’m in heaven again my friend, But your not here. Your not with me, Because I don’t see you here. But still I remain sucker free, Because still I am me.

I am you, As I look in at the man in the mirror. And stare right at you, And clearly see right through you. Colored in paint from the vestibule. A shitty logo on your forehead, No polos or truies. No true religion!.

But only me. Only love, Because I am three. I am me, I am you. I am me, Only lyrical genius that got you in these streets. Feeling the beat. Moving to the music. I hear that fire with that heat.

The fire. My desire is for you to move in with me, And love me for me. Because I want someone to love me for who I am. But your a sucker, And I am me.

Living so free and happily.

There’s a man in the land, Won’t you move in with me? Shoot me down, To the ground. And groove to the beat. Go pound for pound, Round for round. And move from your seat. Don’t make a sound, When I come around in the throwaround. Shoot em up at dawn. Dusty fields, Tumbleweeds. Tumbling with their knees to the ground.

Have no fear, Rescued from death as he appeared.

In the early mourn. Holes in the ground like three feet deep, Kneeled to the ground with the sheep. Like a sheep to the slaughter, That can’t make a sound or a peep.

In the neck of the woods, There’s no country for old men.

I am here with a message straight outta brooklyn for you my dear and my dearest friend, In the leer, a glare, a soft spoken, out spoken word, poetically inclined to the ear of a nerd, but a word that he never knew he would share or say or dare, A deer caught in the headlights for a dare, For a man to pretend that his dividends had no ends without a care for despair again.

Couldn’t spare. Couldn’t share. Couldn’t stare, Didn’t care if he died. By the electric chair. Blood all withheld, And glaringly sneered. With blood all smeared. In the windshield of a car in the now and here

Here and now, In the moment. Only love, In these streets.

Why you lie? I realize whats on my mind. Held deep inside, Is the lies you told me all this time. But still I shine.

I grind, I live. With you in mind. All the time, At times. It’s for you, I rhyme. But.

May I remind you. Your a vestibule, A shitty logo on the foreheads of lost dogs rescued.

Fifty eleven times. Why you in the streets? You a dime! On my mind. I recline in the electric chair, With you in mind. Hug you and hold you from behind, As I resign from my job with money in my hand and with you alone in mind. I shine, With the times. And the lines in my rhymes, Seek you out and hug and hold you from behind. And think about the times where I killed and I murdered you for a nickel and a dime.

For a dollar that the man gave me to push your wig back for a truth or dare and a dare or a truth. I bid you adieu. Words to the wise, The men in blue. But you are you, And I am me.

By: DJ OJEB

Let Me Hear It:

Never seen another one, Living it in the spirit. Feel it till you hear it, Dance in the spirit. Words is slurred, Fly like a bird. Cause my words is slurred, You heard. I’m a spirit.

Let me hear it, Let me hear it.

By: DJ OJEB

[rmartian]

FORTUNE INCORPORATED

Logline: Sibling treasure hunters march through a swamp to find a long-lost Spanish fortune worshiped by a deadly mythical tribe.

FADE IN:

EXT. TROPICAL WETLANDS - DAY

A sea of grass, the FLORIDA EVERGLADES, stretches as far as the eye can see. Trees sprout up above the sawgrass. The canvas of green meets the rising golden-red sun at the horizon.

TITLE: Florida, Everglades

Closing in on a canal between the plants is a small AIRBOAT with FOUR PASSENGERS and EQUIPMENT. The air boat is propelled by a large FAN MOTOR which emits a powerful sound.

At the front of the airboat is MILA SANTOS, an athletic Cuban-American woman in her late 20s dressed in cargo pants, long-sleeve shirt, and boots. Next to her is RICK SANTOS, Mila's younger brother, and a man thick with strength. Rick is sporting a more aggressive look than his sister with a HANDGUN holstered on his hip.

Behind them is DOCTOR KRAUSS, a frail, pale man, dressed like a tourist and ill-equipped for a day in swamp heat.

Piloting the airboat at the rear is HECTOR, a man who makes his living out in the swamps.

Mila raises a fist into the air.

Hector reacts, powering down the fan, abruptly ceasing the noise and slowing the air boat.

Mila stands on the airboat as it drifts near an object. It's a limestone STATUE, carved to resemble an OWL.

Mila inspects the statue but the morning silence is broken by a TRIBAL CALL.  

Krauss and Hector both react with a touch of terror. They look at each other with concern.

HECTOR The Lechuza are out here.

KRAUSS The Owls?

Mila and Rick take out oars and begin slowly maneuvering the airboat through a narrowing canal.

KRAUSS (CONT'D) They're a myth.

HECTOR Did that sound like a myth to you?

The boat rocks as it bumps into land. A skittish Krauss turns, watching as Mila and Rick hop off and pull the boat onto a small embankment. Hector follows.

Krauss swallows a thick ball of terror.

Hector finishes securing the boat as Rick and Mila begin walking up the trail.

The group carefully hikes the trail, moving between the tall grass growing out of the water. Hector and Krauss cannot keep their eyes still as paranoia forces them to look out into the swamp.

KRAUSS Maybe this treasure isn't worth it, you know?

RICK (to Mila) Can I punch him?

MILA (to Rick) Not yet. (Beat) It's just a three-mile hike,

Doctor. As the team hikes, the sun moves across the sky.

KRAUSS I've spent 15 years locked in a library looking for this place.

RICK I'm surprised you didn't burn alive in the sun.

MILA We promised we'd find el Disco Solar (the Solar Disc) for you, we didn't say it'd be easy.

KRAUSS I could not wait any longer to see the Solar Disc for myself.

Krauss is visibly exhausted, Hector is close, but Rick and Mila are unfazed.

HECTOR How much further? We are too deep into Lechuza territory.

RICK If The Owls were real we'd be dead already.

Krauss recoils and yips at the sight of an alligator on the side of the trail.

Mila raises a fist again and everyone stops. She kneels down and starts to move vines and plants apart. A round, stone manhole COVER is revealed. Carved on it is the face of an owl.

Hector nervously peeks over Mila's shoulder.

HECTOR Lechuza.

MILA This is it. Rick, move it.

RICK Am I just muscle to you? I have feelings you know?

MILA I know. I was there during Beauty and the Beast when you--

RICK --Hey, hey, it's okay. No need to go on. I'll move it.

Rick grips the cover and pulls. It doesn't budge. Rick turns and smiles off a touch of embarrassment.

Rick tries again, this time the stone lid creeks and Rick drags it open, revealing a hole.

An invisible wave of stench created by death rushes out, forcing everyone to recoil.

KRAUSS Dear god!

Rick tosses the rope at Hector who grimaces as he catches it.

RICK Tie this.

Mila shakes a chem-light on and tosses it down into the hole, then looks in.

MILA Doesn't look like much of a drop.

Mila starts to crawl into the hole.

RICK Sis, what are you doing?

MILA You're coming in right after me. Chill, little brother.

Mila eases down and drops in.

MILA Whoa.

RICK Talk to me.

Hector hands one end of the rope to Rick.

RICK (CONT'D) Sis, report.

MILA It's amazing down here. Amazing.

Rick tosses the rope down.

RICK (to Krauss)

Doctor. Krauss moves into the hole.

KRAUSS I should just keep reminding myself of the money we'll make.

RICK Whatever gets you through the day, Doc.

Krauss vanishes into the hole. Rick offers Hector the chance to go next but Hector insists Rick go first. Rick eases himself into the hole.

CUT TO:

INT. CAVERN

Rick drops down into the dark cave. Mila has placed more chem-lights around, revealing more of the ancient artwork, spiders, snakes, and some long-dead skeletons.

RICK Incredible.

KRAUSS I can't believe it.

MILA Hector, bring the cameras down next.

A moment of silence strikes everyone with curiosity.

Rick looks up into the hole ...  

RICK Hector?

... the rope drops down ...  

RICK (CONT'D) What the--

... Mila rushes over to the hole.

MILA Hector?

Hector peeks in with guilt-ridden concern.

HECTOR Lo siento amigos.

Four men dressed in business suits and wearing owl masks step out from around Hector.

HECTOR (CONT'D) They threatened my family.

Rick and Mila grimace. Krauss' jaw drops ...

KRAUSS They're real.

With a loud clunk, the lid slowly shuts on the group below.

RICK Great.

KRAUSS Well, I suppose dying in the place I spent most of my life looking for is somehow poetic.

MILA We're not dead yet.

Mila confidently storms ahead of Rick and Krauss, heading towards the back of the cavern. She flips on a flashlight, revealing a passage way out.

MILA Want to die while looking for a way out?

RICK I like that idea.

The trio moves into the dark passage. Krauss is enamored by the art on the walls. Paintings of human figures, one dark, one light as if reflecting each other. Each figure has one, large eye that comes together with the other figure's single eye to form a pair of eyes on a face in the negative space.

KRAUSS This is definitely the place. All the depictions here represent human trinity. The dark and light reflect each other. The eyes look for the truth between.

MILA The passage opens up ahead.

Mila reaches the edge of the passage where it opens into a large, circular room. It's lit by sunlight coming through a hole in the ceiling.

RICK There's our way out.

KRAUSS It's the God of the Graveyard.

At the center of the room is a giant owl's head carved from wood, now aged centuries by water and earth falling from above. The owl's mouth is open and there's an OBJECT inside.

MILA Is that the Solar Disc in its mouth?

KRAUSS (glossy-eyed smile) Let's find out.

Krauss begins to take a step into the larger room but Mila quickly stops him.

KRAUSS What's the matter?

RICK Haven't you watched Indiana Jones? These places are always booby-trapped.

KRAUSS (pushing ahead) Don't be silly. This tribe wasn't sophisticated enough for that sort of thing.

Krauss walks right up to the Owl. He turns ...

KRAUSS (CONT'D) See?

Krauss takes the object; it's a small, wooden clamshell. He holds it carefully.

KRAUSS I can't believe it.

Krauss opens the object and a puff of powder shoots out, covering the doctor's face.

KRAUSS Oh, my.

Krauss stumbles back, dropping the object near a SMALL POOL of dirty water at the base of the owl statue.

Krauss claws at his face, moaning louder and louder in pain.

KRAUSS My skin ... It's burning.

Krauss keeps walking backward and falls through a patch of moss on the ground that's covering an unseen pit.

KRAUSS (O.S.) AH! AHH! AHHH!

Rick and Mila grimace from the horrible sound of Krauss' demise. They rush over only to find a pit of SNAKES. Only Krauss' hand sticks up from the reptilian mound.

RICK What's the call?

Mila's eyes lock onto the owl statue ...

MILA The doctor said something about a reflection.

Mila carefully walks up to the owl statue. Rick follows while looking up at the exit.  

RICK I think we have just enough rope to get out.

Mila kneels down and looks into the muddy pool of water. With the skylight above her, her dark silhouette is surrounded by a halo of light.

MILA (muttering) The truth between.  

She runs her hand through the muddy water. For a split-second, a limestone button is revealed.

MILA I found it.

RICK Found what?

Mila runs her hand again, revealing the button and with two fingers she presses it.

A panel on the base of the owl pops opens.

Mila pulls back a small door to reveal the SOLAR DISC, a palm-sized golden metal gear.

MILA (smiling) Jackpot.  

Mila stands up holding out the Solar Disc with a smile but it quickly vanishes when she sees Rick is unloading his gun.  Mila puts the disc in a pocket.

MILA What are you doing?

Rick begins to tie the rope through the pistol grip of the gun.

RICK Need to get the rope up there but it's easier with some weight.

MILA Who says I'm the brains of this outfit?

RICK What? Who says that?

Mila carefully walks over and looks into the snake pit. Krauss has vanished beneath the reptiles.

Rick unsuccessfully launches the gun up into the air. As it comes back down, heavy rain comes down with it.

Rick unsuccessfully launches the gun up again, trying to wrap it around a thick branch. He ducks as the gun almost hits him on the head.

A worried Mila looks around as parts of the ground is already flooding from the water.  

Rick fires the gun up again, this time it sneaks around the branch and comes back down. He pulls it down so that he can just barely hold both ends of the rope.

RICK Take the end with the rope. I'll pull you up.

Mila takes the rope, grips it tightly and nods at Rick.

Rick starts pulling and as if weightless, Mila zooms up.

The water in the cavern is reaching Rick's ankles. A snake slides across the ground and slithers around Rick's foot.

RICK Oh, hell no!

Rick jerks his leg, releasing tension on the rope. Mila begins to fall, heading straight for the snake pit.

MILA Rick! Rick! Rick!

Rick kicks the snake away then grips the rope with both hands while bracing his legs and body. Mila's fall stops just seconds from hitting the snake pit. The Solar Disc slips out of her pocket and falls into the snakes.

As Mila reaches for the Solar Disc, the undulating snakes reveal Krauss' lifeless face for a second.

Rick pulls and Mila lifts back up ...

MILA No, wait!

Rick is kicking more snakes that are coming out from all around the cavern.

RICK What?!  

Rick pulls Mila all the way to the top.

MILA I dropped the disc.

RICK I'll get it. Tie the rope.

Rick charges ahead, kicking and fighting off snakes while heading for the pit.

Above, Mila frantically ties the rope.

A snake bites Rick's ankle, forcing him to the ground and to the edge of the snake pit.

Krauss' body is back at the top and the Solar Disc is resting on his chest.

RICK You ready up there?

MILA Ready!

Rick grips the gun end of the rope and swings across the pit. As he moves through the air he snags the Disc off of Krauss' chest.

Rick swings back, putting a foot on the ground when another snake bites him, forcing Rick to let go of the rope and drop the Disc which lands at the edge of the snake pit.

Rick hits the ground on all fours, he grips his ankle that's swelling from the bite, grimaces, and groans.

Mila grips the rope and slides all the way down.

RICK Sis, no!

MILA Shut up!

RICK Get out of here!

Mila reaches the ground next to Rick. She takes the Disc and puts it in her pocket.

MILA I told mom I'd take care of you.

Mila helps Rick up to his feet.

MILA You still got arms, right?

Rick grabs the rope. Mila wraps herself around him.

MILA Pull!

Rick growls and pulls himself and Mila up the rope, out of the reach of the oncoming snakes.

With each pull, the branch above creeks and bends. And with each pull, Rick lets out an incredible pain-filled growl.

At the top, Mila climbs out then reaches back to help Rick escape. The pair fall to the side and breath a deep sigh of relief.

Mila holds out the Solar Disc. Rick looks at it and they both smile wide.

CUT TO:

EXT. SWAMP - NIGHT

Under a cloudless sky and bright moon, Mila struggles to help Rick walk. Rick is pale and fighting to move while or keep his eyes open.

RICK No more hikes for a while, okay?  

MILA We should be close.

RICK And if we're not?

MILA You die and then I probably die too.

RICK Estaremos con mamá otra vez. (We'll be with mom again.)

Rick collapses to the ground. Mila falls to her knees.

MILA No, Rick.

Mila uses all her remaining strength to roll Rick onto his back.

MILA (CONT'D) You freakin' ox. You're not dying on me--

Mila's words fade out as four shadows loom over her.

Mila turns, eyes wide. The Lechuza, the four men in suits from before, surround her.

FADE OUT.

THE END