#Portable Binocular

[gushinoptics1]

Portable Binocular

If you are looking for the best portable binocular, there are several factors to consider, including size, magnification, objective lens diameter, optical quality, durability, and price. it considers factors such as magnification, objective lens diameter, field of view, eye relief, waterproofing, and durability. It's also important to try out binoculars in person if possible to assess their comfort, ergonomics, and optical performance before making a purchase.

Visit us:-  https://gushinoptics.com/collections/portbale-binoculars

[andymurphy]

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[zephyrchama]

Barbatos with a purse. He's always got everything you need any time you go out together.

You need a pen? No problem. What color? Or would you prefer a pencil?

You need a phone charger? Don't worry. He has a phone charger and a portable battery pack.

Snacks? He has sweet, savory, salty, and sour. Please, take your pick.

Tissues, wipes, an umbrella. All kinds of medicine. A picnic blanket, another bag, a pair of binoculars. Spare clothes and a sewing kit. A knife and several glowing stones that give you goosebumps. A vial of mysterious bubbling liquid. Breath mints. Hand soap in eight different scents.

The purse isn't even that big and yet he manages to fit so much in it, all meticulously organized to provide what you need in seconds.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Stargazing (Fluff)

Bayverse!Donatello x reader

Warnings: Spelling and cutie Donnie💜

----------------------------------------

The city skyline glittered under the vast canvas of the night sky as you and Donatello stood atop a high-rise building. The cool breeze rustling through the fabric of your clothes causing you to shiver slightly. Maybe you should have brought a thicker jacket. Or a hoodie.

Your boyfriend, Donatello, had brought you with him up to the rooftop, to show you his latest invention, that he held against his eye pointing towards the stars. It looked like a normal pair of binoculars, except for extra wires sticking out here and there, along with a few blinking lights on the side. You were wondering what was so special about these binoculars that his goggles couldn’t do. Therefore you leaned interaged up against your tall boyfriend, watching his face in fascination. Donatello, feeling your body being pressed against his, wrapped his arm around you, holding you closer.

“Are you cold?”, he asked, lowering his binoculars to look down at you. He could feel you shivering against his rib and against his forearm.

“Just a little”, you said, wrapping your jacket closer around you.

Donnie looked at you for a moment with a small smile, before sliding behind you, wrapping both his arms fully around you. If it wasn’t for the height difference, he would have placed his head on your shoulder, and let himself enjoy the heat of your cheek against his.

“Here”. He placed the binoculars in your hand. “Look up at the sky”.

Donnie held you close against him, as he watched you move the binoculars to your eyes in curiosity. They were big and too far apart for your eyes, so Donnie helped adjust them before you looked into them. You gasped as you looked up, causing Donnie to chuckle, stroking your arms with thumbs. As you looked over the night sky, the binoculars would show you the names of the stars and planets. It would tell you each planet's temperature as you moved your gaze across them, along with facts and how far away they were. It would draw lines between the stars, showing you constellations you had never heard of before.

"This is amazing, Donnie!", you said, your smile wide and bright.

He grinned, a blend of satisfaction and excitement in his eyes as he took in your expression. "I'm glad you like it. It's a prototype, but I thought it would be nice to have our own portable observatory".

As you marveled at the celestial beauty above, Donatello couldn't help but admire the way the city lights looked on your skin and hair. He listened intently to your voice as you read out loud what the binoculars told you. You loved learning, and Donnie loved watching your excitement with everything you encountered.

"Did you know that the stars we see tonight are the same ones our ancestors looked at centuries ago?", Donatello mused, his voice a gentle hum in the quiet night, as he gently started to sway you from side to side.

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips as you let him rock you softly from right to left. "It's both fascinating and humbling. Makes you realize how small we are in the grand scheme of things".

Donatello rested his head on top of yours, humming in delight as one of your hands started to trace up and down the top arm he had wrapped around you. "That's what I love about stargazing. It puts everything into perspective. It's a reminder that no matter what happens down here, the universe keeps on spinning".

The two of you continued to share stories about constellations, galaxies, and the mysteries of the cosmos. Donatello's passion for science and astronomy shone through, and you couldn't help but be captivated by the depth of his knowledge. He often reminded you about the stars you were looking at. Just as bright and just as beautiful.

As the night progressed, the conversation shifted to more personal topics. Donatello spoke about his dreams and aspirations, the wonders he hoped to uncover in the vastness of space. He had always dreamed of going out there, and one day he would find a way. You, in turn, shared your own hopes and dreams, creating an intimate connection beneath the starlit sky.

The city below seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the soft glow of streetlights and the brilliance of distant stars. Time lost its significance as you and Donatello became lost in the beauty of the cosmos and the warmth of each other's company.

In that tranquil moment, surrounded by the tapestry of the night, Donatello's gaze lingered on you once more. The vulnerability in his eyes spoke volumes, and he hesitated for a moment before finally speaking once again.

"(Y/N)", he began, his voice steady but vulnerable.

Your attention shifted from the stars to him, curiosity and warmth in your eyes as you finally removed the binoculars from your eyes. "What is it, Donnie?"

He took a deep breath. "I know I say these kinds of things often, but being with you makes everyday feel like a dream I’m lucky to have. Being up here, sharing this moment with you, it feels right. I love you, (Y/N), and will continue to tell you everyday until-".

Before he could finish, you reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze with a soft smile.

"I know, Donnie", you reassured him. “I love you too, and I too will tell you so everyday”.

A genuine grin spread across his face. He dipped his head down until his lips met yours in a loving kiss. Even as the two of you pulled part, you continued to stand close, embraced in each other’s arms. You blushed as you noticed Donnie’s soft gaze on your face.

“Donnie, the stars are up there”, you laughed and attempted to hide your face against his chest.

“I know”, he said, placing a finger under your chin so he could lift your face to look at him again. “But you’re so much prettier to look at”.

Needless to say, but you and Donatello would definitely go stargazing together again.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

ATLA

Perfection is Overrated by JaggedCliffs (+ podfic) (NOTE: I've recced this fic before and I'll rec it again. When I die, I want to be buried with this fic)

For his first thirteen years, Zuko was raised in a palace. And yet somehow, it's the three years outside the Fire Nation that seem to count more – at least to the palace staff, who act like he's been raised by fox-wolves.

At first, this only annoys Zuko.

Until he begins to think that the Fire Nation needs more than a formerly-banished prince.

a brush of fingers, a kick of shins by lesmiserablol (+ podfic)

"Okay, I’ve been thinking all day, and here’s my idea,” Toph tells Zuko on their way to dinner. “You’re so sure he’s not into you, so I’m going to help you out and give you a gentle nudge every time he flirts so that you notice it.”

“Okay,” Zuko says slowly. He doubts it will be necessary, he and Sokka have been best friends for over five years now and that is probably all that Sokka thinks of him as. A good friend. “I don’t know if it’ll come up, but if it does...just don’t make it obvious, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” Toph smiles. Zuko knows her fairly well, he knows he should be worried at that, but he just follows her into the dining hall.

Stranger Things

who wants to live forever? by starbeyy

In which Steve Harrington has two nightmares: The one he has about the fire at the Starcourt Mall every time he falls asleep, and the one where Eddie Munson visits him at Family Video to ask him for a favor.

shape it up (get it straight) by fivecenturiesverse (+ podfic)

Mike doesn't know when he started caring why Steve and Eddie are friends now, but Dustin has made him curious. Eddie and Steve were enemies before, sort of. So why are they now best friends? They've just got to do a bit of surveillance to work this puzzle out. If Mike accidentally finds out he has feelings for his best friend along the way then... well, shit.

-

“At least I’m not using binoculars.” Mike shoots a derisive look over at Dustin. “Like we’re not in the middle of the high street, if they spot us how are you going to explain away those, huh?”

“Bird watching,” says Dustin. “My new hobby.”

Lucas punches him on the arm. “God you’re so fucking stupid.”

“You gave them to me!”

Shadowhunters

Portable Magic by smilebackwards

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering.

Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression.

Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

count the ways by smilebackwards

"I know the nephilim have some truly skewed perspectives on our history and culture but have you ever seen anything like this before?” Magnus holds out the book, open to Warlock Courting Traditions. The text only takes up half a page, a mystifying run-on list of odd and impossible tasks. It’s formatted almost like poetry and his dear, pedantic Alexander has turned it into a checklist, penciled lightly down the margin.

Ragnor snorts into his tea.

“Oh,” Catarina says, looking at the book. “That."

In somno veritas (In sleep lies the truth) by lawsofchaos (+podfic)

Jace blinks, peering at the loft in vague stupefaction. “This,” and Alec’s parabatai’s voice sounds like he’s dragging each noise out from his exhausted mind and forcing it out before he can forget what word he just discovered. “Isn’t the Institute?” The final phrase comes out as a question.

Alec tilts his head in puzzlement, glancing at his brother as if wondering how he could possibly consider that Alec had taken them there instead of here. “No?”

Alec’s head moves back to level and he narrows his eyes instead. “We said we were going home after patrol.”

The ‘ergo, we are home now’ wasn’t said, but it was obvious in implication.

bloom by smilebackwards

Alec loves watching Izzy get flowers but he thinks he would have liked, just once, to know what it felt like for someone to send him something so bright and sweet, frivolous, just because they cared.

[doctoraxiom]

I love this abstract ideal of everyday carry mentality.

How can you make sure emergency essentials and things you may need in urgent situations are always available?

For me that means stocking my purse with emergency medications, having sunglasses, binoculars, portable weather gear, some basic tools for quick-and-dirty repairs, emergency snacks. Basically every time I'm out and about and I run into something where I really wish I had some kind of tool or resource- I think to myself: "how can I get the functionality of that tool in something compact enough to fit in a sling bag?" Then I find a way to make it happen.

Unfortunately it feels like the online EDC community spends most of their time on knives so it's hard to actually piece together the more practical advice. Don't get me wrong they're cool knives but I want to know about the creative ways of fitting functionality in a small package. I actually get better info on practical everyday carry items from disability related threads.

[zyrafowe-sny]

October 23rd WIP Wednesday Game Community Answered Asks: Pine Cone (18/18)

I finished the fic!

@stonemaskedtaliesin

They slowed their pace. With the help of their Institution-issued binoculars, they eventually spied the wyverns by a cluster of boulders. That made sense — they usually preferred rocky nests.

@1attheedge

They went after livestock and killed the occasional human, but unlike their dragon cousins, wyverns couldn't also burn down fields and farmhouses.

As per Institution policy, Ballister and Ambrosius dismounted a good distance away and activated the provided portable force field enclosure to protect their horses from any predators or thieves. (Trained warhorses were expensive to replace.) Walking was a little uncomfortable in their stinky, thirdhand armor — there was no shortage of potential squires should they get injured — but finally they were close enough that the wyverns started hissing at them.

@eriquin

As one, they raised their shields and swords, ready to attack and defend from all angles as the beasts flew near. Ambrosius was already yelling silly nonsense at them — even though heckling was wasted on wyverns — and Ballister could feel a fond grin pulling at his lips. Fighting back-to-back came naturally; they were always aware of where the other was and could usually anticipate each other's next moves.

@kallisto-k

One relatively clever wyvern diving down from above did manage to separate them for a time. Even as he parried attacks from wyvern tails with his sword and landed hits, Ballister's eyes kept darting away to check how Ambrosius was doing. He shouldn't have worried; Ambrosius definitively skewered the wyvern in front of him and soon enough they were reunited. As always, stronger together.

@friend-shaped-but TW for baby creature death

Once they'd struck down all the adults, they checked the area for juveniles. Decapitating baby wyverns was gruesome work, but Ballister told himself that they were basically overabundant at this point without other predators to keep them in check. Eliminating all of them would benefit not only humans, but other native creatures too. Perhaps jackalopes would make a comeback.

@aparticularbandit

"No need to hide tonight," Ambrosius rasped, and soon demanding lips were on Ballister's. He felt a little breathless when Ambrosius finally pulled away to crack open the cider.

"You went through all the trouble of smuggling it all the way here," Ambrosius said a little apologetically. "Let's make the saddlebags a little lighter for tomorrow."

[polkadotsunshine]

Preparation and Flexibility

Seeing a total solar eclipse requires both preparation and flexibility.

First is the equipment. My family has a collection of welder's glass so we can watch the sun before totality. It's a high quality, comfortable, and durable version of eclipse glasses. We use rubber bands to fix the glass to binoculars, so we can quickly remove the filter during totality. We've also fitted a perfectly parallel straw to our telescope's reflex sight so we can align it to the sun*.

*Spotting the sun with the naked eye would cause physical harm yet welder's glass blocks out so much light you couldn't see the sight with it on. By aligning the shadow of the straw on your hand, so that the sunlight comes straight as a white circle, you can aim the telescope.

Next comes the location. Years in advance, we analyze historical weather data to determine a path along totality with the least likelihood of cloud coverage. We're not looking for a location to sit in; we want a road we can travel along to escape dense clouds. Months in advance, we change our plans from Mexico to Texas. Days in advance, we change our plans from Texas to New York. Even as we drive through the Adirondacks the day of the eclipse, we watch the radar to adjust course. Even as we set up our telescope, we watch for changes in cloud density and the direction of the wind. We settle by Tupper Lake, mentally calculating how long it would take to pack everything up and drive east.

Fetching supplies from the car, we discover someone parked less than an inch away from our passenger’s side. We shuffle through the driver's side doors, over to the other half of the car, and accept the circumstance. As my dad waits in line for a portable toilet, someone points out our neighbor’s parking job and offers astonishment then condolences. As my mom gets a blanket from the car, someone rushes up to her, exclaiming they witnessed the parking job in horror, and they complain about the Cornell bumper sticker on their car. The third time someone runs up to us, it's the driver himself. He profusely apologizes.

We get to know the guy: Jordan. My mom asks about Cornell, since that's where she and my dad met. His daughter went to Cornell. He asks where I went to college. The conversation goes from there. It turns out his wife is home sick and he went to finish the trip alone. He's visibly jealous of our telescope. We adopt him into our party. He corrects his parking job and we share our equipment with him. I teach with him the little I remember from what my dad had taught me. 

The anticipation builds. For a while, it's just a relaxing day outside. The moon hasn’t even begun to cross the sun. I look at sunspots through our telescope and ask my dad how many times the size of Earth they are. I read my book and listen to the lake lap up the shore. A son plays catch with his father. A group of college friends yell over cards. I watch Canadian geese swim around a family in kayaks.

The anticipation builds. My dad shouts, "First contact!" as he checks the telescope. We lazily look through our glass and idly remark interest that such a small sliver is visible without magnification. I eat beef jerky and check my phone. We occasionally look to the sun and make small talk over how fast it's moving. I walk to a nearby McDonald's to use the bathroom; I don't want totality to be interrupted. As the sun wanes, I play with a colander to find the focal points of each pinhole camera it creates, speckling our folding table with polkadot sunshine in the shape of tiny crescents.

The anticipation builds. It starts getting dark, like twilight. Automated lights flick on along the lake. The geese come to shore. My mom identifies the nightsong of birds in the park. Totality is in 10 minutes. The lighting shifts from twilight to unnatural; a dimness creeps from every direction, somehow illuminating the now-muted colors of the world. Our brains struggle to make sense of it. It's cold. My grandparents' dog hides between my brother’s legs. He comforts her.

It's fast. My dad points across the lake. It's the shadow of the moon, screaming towards us at over 1000 mph. The clouds dissipate inside its cold beam of darkness. He points out Venus, visible to the naked eye. The crowd clamors. The last light of the sun forms a brilliant white diamond atop a ring, surrounding the pitch black moon in the sky. I've never seen contrast so strong in nature. I shout because Jordan shouts and Jordan shouts because I shout.

Each moment is heavy. Totality will begin soon. Totality will end soon. It will be years before I get the mere possibility of seeing anything like this ever again. I tell myself to make each second count. I won't waste time taking pictures. I won't waste any time at all. I look up.

There is a hole in the sky. The stark white corona tinges aquamarine, fringed by red Baily's beads bleeding through the mountains on the moon. My emotions overpower prepared thought. Yellow orange sunsets surround every horizon. Anywhere I look is a beautiful moment that can't last. Everything feels wonderfully wrong. Red plasma arcs at a magnitude incomprehensible; three solar flare prominences push their way to my attention. I see the eclipse. I cry.

And then it was over. I had counted down to this day for 7 years. It marked the end of an era; bookending the as-of-now most important years of my life. It landed on a day I made up layered sentimental feelings for. The eclipse was beautiful because I forced myself to savor every memory, yet despite all my plans, for those 3 minutes and 31 seconds, it became something else. I allowed myself to fall in love with whatever came my way - and I found more than I had ever expected.

Seeing a total solar eclipse requires both preparation and flexibility. The sight is gorgeous of course, but for me, experiencing a total solar eclipse is a communal ritual. It is my dad showing me how to align his telescope. It is the tips my aunts and uncles exchanged when deciding where to go. It is the picnic I had with my grandmother. It is the unlikely friend we made. The anticipation built from our collective preparation allowed me to follow my central directive: I lived in the moment, no matter where that took me.

After all, isn’t everything amazing?

[ambientbroth]

Autism/ Neurodivergent Tips! Autism Journal Entry

On an everyday basis I have 1 backpack and 2 fanny packs I wear on my body.

I wear fanny packs for trinkets, money, writing notes, eye drops, pocket magnifying glass, forging pocket knife, tweezers, lighters, chapstick, a mask, hand sanitizer spray, extra marker, bobby pins, and peppermint oil.

In my backpack I carry books, headphones/earplugs, stationary pencil bag, stim puzzles/toys, extra makeup, THC gummies, cards, matches, AirPods, cigarettes, binoculars, sticky notes, and a portable pee funnel, Advil, Tums, and Dramamine

But I also carry a single backpack in the car for emergencies; stuck in traffic, shit my pants, need to change clothes. The contents of my bag are baby wipes, a pair of socks, a pair of underwear, a bandana, pants, a shirt, a hand fan, Clorox wipes, and a make up bag with; athletic tape, bandaids, vapor rub, tiger balm, and CBD oil. Also I carry my charger sometimes.

I also have applesauce and small pringles cans for homeless people and for myself.

I NEVER go without these 2 bags and 2 fanny packs EVER

Recently, I was stuck in the car due to a flat tire. I hadn’t showered all day, I had been to literally 6 different spots and I spent a total of 7 hours in the car, alone, driving. I had too many interactions with people over the past few days and that day with no spoons left in me. I had a meltdown when we pulled to the apartment because the apartment keys were left at the last spot we were (which was 15 minutes back) I was livid and scream cried. I sat in the back of the car and tried to calm myself down, we were almost back to the apartment, then we got a flat tire. It popped and it scared the fucking life out of my already high-stress-alerted body and I had another full blown meltdown. I was screaming and inconsolable and frankly losing my fucking mind. I was thrashing my body and screaming with hot tears running down my face, pulling my hair all while on the shoulder of the highway with cars and semis speeding past at 70 mph shaking the car.

If it wasn’t for the bags I always keep on me I wouldn’t have made it out the way I did. After I had calmed down just enough I sat with my headache. I took an advil down with some applesauce, I peed using my portable pee funnel into my reusable pint water bottle, I wiped myself everywhere using baby wipes, I changed out of my sweaty underwear and socks, and changed out of my clothes completely. I put my headphones on and turned on some brown noise. I stuffed my clothes in a plastic bag from the car. I opened a book and looked at some pictures. I put eye drops in and put on my coat. After about an hour I was fine enough to go outside and help my partner with the flat tire.

If you are neurodivergent or are Autistic please please please take my tips and carry a change of clothes, baby wipes, and things you might ever need with you. Accommodate for yourself. You never know when you will actually need it. This isn’t to scare you, you can’t prevent life from happening but you can help yourself.

[navibluebees]

Someone to be Proud of (Recom Quaritch x Human Female Reader) - Part 6

Please read before interacting.

Thank you so much for your patience for this part! It was a hard week. I am so grateful for all the new followers, passed 100 this week! Welcome to everybody and thank you for the support!! :)

You packed a bag. You did not know when to leave, where to go. All you needed was to get away.  In a flurry, you tossed your clothes into the bag. You threw in a couple of portable solar power battery packs for the air masks. A first aid kit, some nonperishable meal packets and a water bottle. Your tablet lit up and you pulled up your notifications. There was going to be a trip in a couple of days to another location that would be linked to Bridgehead. If they spread out the colony sites, then the resources wouldn’t be depleted so quickly in one spot.

You sighed deeply. What was the point of even going? You didn’t really have the heart for it anymore. But maybe this would be the time to escape. You sent a confirmation that you had received the message. About to put your tablet down, you stopped at the ding of another notification.

Missing you. Hope to see you in a few days.

Miles

Repulsed, you swiped it away, refusing to respond. How you’d handle that, who knew? But you weren’t going to be waiting for him. 

~~~

Miles watched as the mother tulkun was impaled by the harpoon. She let out a groan and her calf whined. He winced, something bothering him. Something he wouldn’t look too closely at. The tulkun was pulled onto the ship, a machine taking him, Spider, the captain and a scientist in its mouth. Spider was looking around in awe of seeing another creature of Pandora so closely. The scientist was talking to him, explaining about the intelligence of the tulkun. Spider listened attentively until the captain interrupted, making a joke about dropping the Amrita. The scientist, Garvin, stared at him flat-faced and then turned around to his screen.

The captain annoyed Miles. He was just a tiny, greedy man. No true purpose other than money and fame. Worthless. The word resounded off the walls of his mind. What was his own purpose?

They dumped the tulkun, leaving the tracker stabbed into its side for Sully to find. If he was so close to these ocean clans and they were close to the tulkun, he could be provoked out with anger.

A few days after, they saw a lone tulkun. The small boats dropped and shot a tracker into it before returning to the main ship. The ship followed the signal and came around a tall rock to see small blue shapes moving on top of the creature. Miles looked through the binoculars and smirked. “Well, I’ll be damned. Sully’s kids. Let’s go.” He stepped away, moving to alert the captain to drop the smaller subs to go catch the kids. Spider ran after him and jumped, pulling on his arm.

“Why are you doing this?! Stop! Just leave them alone!!”

He whirled on Spider. His mouth snarled in a furious way. He was so close to getting everything he thought he wanted. So close to completing the mission. If Spider was more of a soldier, Miles was sure he would understand. “Get to the bridge. Go now. Or else the ass whoopin’ I mentioned a while back still stands.”

Spider growled and Miles signaled for guards to escort him back. He jerked his arms away and stomped on ahead of them. Miles’ ears flattened and he shook his head, clearing his thoughts. The subs returned after a bit and brought three of the kids along with it. One was a lighter blue with a different tail, but he handcuffed all of them to the railing anyway. Jake and the tribe he’d been hiding with had come into the area. He held a gun to the head of the boy next to him. ‘Boy’. A child. He winced internally, imagining Spider in his place. He knew he would do anything to save that kid for a chance to know him. This was the right choice to bring Jake in. 

He talked to Jake over the comm systems and threatened the lives of the children. He paused, waiting for him to come closer to surrender himself. What he’d do with the kids after? Maybe hold them hostage. What would you think of him? Damn, you probably wouldn’t approve of the situation in the first place. He decided he wasn’t sure he would ever tell you.

~~~

It wasn’t up to him anymore. Your train was leaving in an hour and so you had your bag prepped and ready to go at your feet. You went toward the room that had the body cam footage in it before. Just on the off chance you could see more of what was going on. The door was cracked again. You covered your mouth in panic, trying to hide the gasps that were coming from you. 

This was Miles’ cam. His voice was too close for it to not be him. He was holding a gun to the head of a young boy, his head turned, anger in his eyes. Another girl, worried sat beside him, and no, there was one more, hidden in between the two older ones. She looked up, her eyes wide, face so small and vulnerable. Children. He was threatening children to get to Sully. Whatever Sully may or may not have done, threatening children was something that could not be justified, something that you would never be able to unsee. You picked up your bag and shuffled quietly to the end of the hallway from the conference room. You took off toward the train, determined not to miss it. You had been given confirmation of your decision to leave.

~~~

The ache in your chest swallowed you whole as you rode the train toward the potential location of another colony. Were you even told the truth? Humans had twisted and messed up the world for as long as they had been alive so you supposed it made sense that they would tell a completely false story about the events on Pandora years ago. Head pounding from the new revelations, you rested it against the window, steady motion lulling you to sleep. 

A screeching alarm woke you up. You looked around, but all you could see were your other team members panicking and putting on their masks. You followed protocol and donned yours too. The train squealed loudly over the tracks, trying to stop. You started to rise in your seat, quickly pulling your seatbelt over you to stop it and gripped the armrests, fighting the nausea and hysteria rising in your throat. The train flipped and toppled over. You felt the impact jolt you, rattling your brain around in your skull. Keeping your eyes shut tight, you waited until your body stopped shaking long enough to register what had happened. 

You opened your eyes and looked around, not seeing any team members. Turning a bit, you saw they were staggering to the door, struggling with being upside down in the train car. You waved your hand weakly and one ran to you, unbuckling you and helping you down. You glanced around and by some miracle, your bag had stayed nearby the whole time. Slinging it across your body, you went to the exit as quickly as you could manage.

They had all run ahead and you stumbled, landing in the rubble. They turned and waited and after not seeing you, ran down the tracks, heading back to Bridgehead. Your knees were too weak to stand, your hands shook and so you curled in on yourself, drawing them to your chest. Sounds raged around you. The smell of smoke. Shouting in a foreign language somewhere behind you. A shadow fell over your eyes and you opened them slightly. “Miles?”

The person leaned closer and you saw it was one of the Na’vi tribe you had heard of. The clan that Jake Sully had joined. Weakly, you turned back and stayed curled up. They could kill you. Or leave you. It didn’t really matter at this point. You weren’t going back. Strong hands scooped under you and threw you over a shoulder. Your eyes popped open, but the raging light from above forced you to close them. Blood seeped from a cut across your stomach and lightheaded, you passed out.

~~~

When you woke up a bit later, your mask wasn’t on. You grabbed at your face and patted around you, holding your breath and then sat up quickly. Your head swam and hands moved to your shoulders, gently pushing you back down. 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. Just rest. The train shook you around a lot. It’s alright.”

“Who are you? Where am I?” You mumbled. 

“My name is Max. You’re with the Omaticaya.”

***

Taglist:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @mechformers

[curiousobsession101]

Recorded livestream of the green comet passing by earth for the first time in 50,000 years! This stream happened a few hours ago (night of February 1, 2023) but the comet will still be close enough to earth to technically observe with the naked eye throughout tomorrow as well.

Unfortunately you can't see it with the naked eye in a place with too much light pollution. Binoculars and portable telescopes help, but this video is great if it's too bright or too cloudy where you are or you just don't want to go out when it's chilly. If you do want to see it for yourself, if you're in the northern hemisphere it will look to be near the north star (because of where it is and the speed it's moving it will stay near the north star as the earth rotates and the constellations move in the sky).

If you're in the southern hemisphere, sorry I don't know where in the sky it's visible. But I have read that it will be fainter and harder to see there.

[snaillamp]

Jod - day 27 - Unwelcome guests

Masterlist

Day 27: “I’m so sorry.” | Sacrifice | Obsession | Display |

Enjar stood from the small rowboat, making his way to shore. He gazed out onto the fjord, watching the mist drift over the water. He sighed, looking at the small catch he had managed to bring in. It would last him a while if he dried it, but he might have to go hunting for game later.

Hauling the boat in, he lifted the nets and pulled the fish from them, placing them in a sack and throwing it over his shoulder. His boots squeaked as he walked across the stony beach, trudging back to the pathway leading home. A cold wind whipped up from the ocean, sending spray flying into Enjar’s hair and face. He licked the salt from his lips, opening the door to his cabin and dumping the fish on the old wooden table. Pulling the small radio from his belt, he placed it in the dock next to an old shortwave radio that was on the table beside the front door.

The cabin attached to a large lighthouse. It was small, stone and comprised of three rooms, a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen/living area. A small fire place was tucked in the corner of the kitchen side and dry driftwood was piled beside it. On the other side, an old, sagging sofa that had been there long before he had moved in, was pushed against the wall under the window. He didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, and besides, it was quite comfy, despite its’ age. Beside it, the ancient shortwave radio, along with the smaller, newer portable radio, taking up the space on the side table.

There was a door on the other side of the cabin leading to a winding staircase. It reached its’ way up to the top of the lighthouse that was gently spinning a light out into the abyss of the black, churning ocean. Beside the door was a large built-in closet, filled with rope and climbing gear. When he was bored, Enjar liked to abseil, and it was helpful to use for maintenance on the tower.

He lifted some of the wood into the fireplace, then placing some kindling, old paper, into the wood pile, he lit a match, then the kindling, watching the flames begin to consume the wood. Standing from the fireplace, he moved to the kitchen sink. There were three fish, as long as his forearm that he needed to harvest. Leaning over in the sink, he began laying out the flesh he cut to be preserved in salt. He laid the strips on a salt covered tray and sprinkled dried herbs over them.

When Enjar had finished, he pulled a chair from beside the table and set it in front of the fire, beginning to clean the knife. After a few minutes of staring at the flames and listening to the wild wind, he fell asleep, the knife clattering to the floor as it slipped from his hand. He slumped in the chair, in front of the warm flames, tired and sore from a long day of fishing.

Enjar waited as the man walked into the trees. His large gun shined dully in the pelting rain as he disappeared behind a bush. Enjar looked through the binoculars spotting the man again. It was a Viktor Madsen, and he was an evil man. He had kidnapped a woman and was holding her hostage in a bunker in the woods.

His only mistake was that he had let her keep her phone, which had been pinging off a tower in this area for two days. “Suspect spotted. Squad A moving in.” Enjar muttered into a radio. He was young, but elite. His taskforce was the best of the best, ready to jump into action at any moment. He had done so many rescues before, this would be a piece of cake.

Shots rang out as the man behind Enjar flew backwards. He had triggered a booby trap. Glancing behind him Enjar felt his stomach drop. There was no helping his comrade now. More shots rang out and he fell to the ground, panting as he scanned the trees. He couldn’t tell where the shooting was coming from in the rain. He lay there, deep in the bush, completely still, waiting for the man to emerge into the downpour. He watched as Viktor ran across his line of sight. Readying his own gun, Enjar took a breath, aiming carefully and…

Bang.

Waking to the sound of banging on his door Enjar looked around. Pulling his hair over his shoulder, he walked to the door, glancing through the window. It was small and covered in salt, making it hard to see through, but it didn’t help that it was also really dark. Reaching for an old oil lamp by the door, he lit it with a match, holding the warm light near his head as he opened the door into the screaming wind.

The man was young, haggard and tired. He had to be at least 20, so 10 years younger than Enjar at least. He stared at Enjar with gaunt, scared eyes as he was illuminated with the warm light. Enjar noticed his eyes falling to the large, thin scar trailing across his face, running from his left temple, down past his eye and settling across his cheek. He did admit to himself, it made him look more scary than he was, which wasn’t always a bad thing.

“What are you doing out here on a night like this?” Enjar asked the man, who shivered. He was wearing a thin, long sleeved shirt and some long, baggy cargo pants, not exactly warm gear. “Come inside and warm up, hey?” Enjar moved to the side a little, making space for the man to squeeze through. The man hesitated for a second, before walking inside.

Enjar placed the lantern on the table before going to switch on the lights. The dull lamps flickered and buzzed as they jumped to life, humming slightly. Turning off the lamp, Enjar offered the chair in front of the fire to the man, who silently accepted. He shivered as he sat in front of the dying fire, so Enjar stepped in and piled more wood onto the weak flames. “So, what’s your name, stranger?” He smiled slightly, looking up at the young man. “N-Nils.” The man replied, rubbing his arms with his hands. Enjar sighed, looking at the pale man, whose chattering teeth were beginning to slow. “Wait here, I’ll get you a blanket.”

Walking into the other room, the bedroom, Enjar pulled open the closet. He found a thick, woolen blanket and pulled it out. It smelled kind of musty, but then again it had been there when he took over as lighthouse keeper, almost 10 years ago. It was a dull, grey colour, quite warm in the cold winters, Enjar actually quite liked it. He brought it out of the room, looking at Nils, who was a little less blue in front of the flames. He had taken his feet out of the big, maybe too big, leather boots he was wearing and was resting his feet in front of the fire. He had removed his thin ankle socks to reveal his purple toes, not purple from cold but from bruises. His feet were swollen and cut up pretty badly. Enjar frowned, looking at Nils’ feet with suspicion.

“Here, it smells kinda bad but it’ll warm you up quick.” Enjar said quietly, wrapping the blanket around Nils, who pulled it close to him. Enjar noticed the cuts on his knuckles as he grabbed the edges of the blanket, but they were quickly hidden by the fabric as Nils pulled it around his body. “You eaten?” He asked the man, who shook his head. Sighing, Enjar walked to the counter of the kitchen, opening the cupboard under it and looking at what he had. His stock of dried meat and herbs was low, not that Nils would really eat it anyway. He needed something warm.

Opening the small pantry cupboard, Enjar looked at what he had. A large bag of flour, a small bag of sugar, yeast and some stock cubes were laid messily on one shelf, while a large bucket of salt, a bottle of oil and a battered tin of coffee were on the lower shelf, equally as messy. A thin layer of dust covered the highest shelf, the biscuit tin containing sewing supplies untouched for months, and a mortar and pestle, also unused pushed to the back of the shelf. “Shit, I really don’t have much, do I?” He muttered looking at the barren pantry. He went over to he mini fridge beside the pantry, opening it and looking inside. Fresh veggies and fruits were piled inside the crisper drawer, along with milk, fresh bread and a few sausages. “There we go.” He smiled, pulling a potato and two sausages from the fridge.

After mixing everything up on the small stove beside the sink, Enjar handed Nils a plate of sausages and mashed potato, with a steaming cup of coffee to boot. Nils’ eyes lit up and he eagerly ate the food, not even accepting the fork Enjar offered him. Enjar shrugged, placing the fork back on the drawer it came from, before walking over to sit beside the fire. He noticed his knife near Nils’ foot and reached over, grabbing it, causing Nils to jump. “Hey, it’s okay. Just grabbing my knife I dropped earlier.” He held it up, before placing it above the fireplace, next to the seagull skull.

A seagull had flown into the window and broken its’ neck a few years ago, and Enjar, always up for something to do, had decided to keep the bones. The skull looked nice on the mantle, ever watching with curious, unseen eyes. It was comforting to have some company out here in the lonely wilderness, and Enjar even talked to it occasionally. He had called it Ulrich.

Nils finished the food and set the plate down at his feet. It had been licked clean. “Damn, I won’t have to clean it, you’ve already done it for me!” Enjar joked, looking at the man who stared back blankly. “Okay then…” He reached forward, picking up the plate and taking it to the kitchen sink. When he put it in, it hit the side of the sink, making a dull metallic thud and Nils twitched in the chair. Enjar frowned again, returning to his spot, resting his head against the wall. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, feeling it bend stiffly due to the layers of salt. He should really wash it soon.

“So Nils, what’s caused you to come out here in this weather. It’s not great to be out right now, given the storm front coming in.” Nils nodded, slouching in the chair. “It’s nothing.” He looked at Enjar, who tried to smile gently, but Nils quickly looked away, instead staring into the flames and leaving him smiling at nothing. “I’m Enjar, by the way. Been this lighthouse’s keeper for 8 years. I never really have anything like this happen, sure I’ve gone looking for missing people and such, but not many people turn up at my door. They tend to only do that when they want something.” He glanced at the shortwave beside the sofa.

The thing was ancient, probably older than he was, but it worked like a charm. It had crackled to life on many an occasion, usually the coast guard wanting assistance with finding missing fishermen or hikers. One of his favourite missions however, had been when he had had to help a guy abseiling when he got stuck on a cliff face. Enjar had used his own gear to rappel down and clip the guy on, before climbing all the way back up. A small red light on the machine blinked slowly, showing it was on.

“No reason. Just hiking. Weather turned and I saw the light from the lighthouse. Figured I could stay here until morning.” Nils murmured. Enjar nodded, his suspicion growing. “Well, you’re certainly well outfitted for a hike… Where’s your gear?” Nils glanced in his direction, knowing Enjar didn’t believe his lie. “Well, Mr Nils, you can stay on the sofa for the night. Let me know if you need anything, and I can take you to where you want to be tomorrow. Fuel is short though, I might only be able to get you as far as town in my truck.”

Nils nodded, standing from the chair and shuffling to the sofa, lying down on it. Enjar walked to his room and pulled a thick quilt from the closet, bringing it over to the cold man. He lay it over the top of him and walked to the light switch, pointing at his door. “I’m in there, need anything at all, just knock.” Smiling, he turned out the light and shuffled to his room.

The wind began to howl even louder as Enjar quickly changed clothes. He curled up in bed, sinking into the soft mattress before kicking himself for not having a shower. He probably stank of fish. Looking at the door to the bathroom, he sighed, he would do it tomorrow, the water would take forever to warm up in this weather anyway. Drifting off into a restless sleep, he dreamed of howling winds and cold rain, battering down on his skin…

Bang.

He missed Viktor by less than a millimetre. The running man froze, looking directly in Enjar’s direction. The rest of his team were gone. It was just him, he was the only one able to take this scumbag down. For the woman, for his friends, for his team. He aimed at the man, lining his barrel up perfectly and pulled the trigger.

The gun jammed.

‘Shit’ Enjar thought as he saw the man approaching him pull a machete from his belt.

Before he realised what was happening the man was on top of Enjar, raising the blade. Enjar felt his arms sting as he raised them to protect his face. His helmet got knocked off, maybe cut, in the struggle, and the man swung the blade again, catching Enjar’s temple. He felt the blade slice the skin down his eye and across his cheek, making his face scream in agony. He realised it was actually him screaming.

Enjar woke with a start, moaning softly and sweating hard. He rolled over, glancing at his clock, 3 am. The red, digital numbers glowed in the dark, as the rain battered the window. Nights like these brought back memories he would rather forget. He threw the blankets off his body, in an effort to cool down and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the deep scars on his forearms.

Standing from bed, he groaned, pulling his sweat stained hair back and tying it behind his head. It was below his shoulders now, it had been that long since he’d cut it, but he was kind of enjoying the change. He’d had short hair his whole life, this made him feel… it made him feel like he could be someone else, not the person he was before, despite the scars he carried as a reminder.

Walking into the bathroom, he turned on the dim, yellow light, twisting on the stiff tap and watching the water trickle out. “Pressure’s shit itself again…” He mumbled to himself, sticking his hand under the water, before pulling it back. It was ice cold. “Fuck.” He shook the water off, rubbing his hand and standing there, waiting for the water to warm up.

Eventually, a small trail of steam rose from the tap and he splashed his face with it. The warmth melted the sleepiness away as he switched off the tap, turning off the light and returning to bed feeling a little better. Pulling the blankets back over his body, he shivered as he stared at the clock, watching the red numbers tick up, 3:15, 3:34, 3:59, 4:00. Sighing, he rolled over, shutting his eyes and trying to fall back to sleep. Just as he was slipping away, a soft knock echoed from his door.

Groaning in slight annoyance, Enjar sat up, rubbing his face. He had forgotten he’d acquired a guest. Stepping out of bed, he walked over to the door. When he opened it, he looked at the man standing in the doorway, his expression as gaunt as ever. “What’s up?” He mumbled, looking at Nils and blinking slowly with tired eyes. “They’re coming.” Nils whispered, staring at Enjar, spooked.

“Wait, what?” Enjar asked sleepily, “Who’s coming?” he looked at Nils who was visibly shaking. “Lars. He’s… I don’t know, but I heard it on that.” He pointed at the shortwave. “What?” Enjar shook his head, entering the main room. “What exactly did you hear?”

Nils sat on the couch, pulling the blanket around his body, almost as a defence against the short wave. “I heard him. He was talking, that thing spoke.” He shivered. “He said that he would check the lighthouse next. The keeper wouldn’t be a problem. He was talking to me...” Enjar frowned, looking at the spooked man. “So… Who’s Lars then.”

“Lars Sorensen.” Enjar’s face grew stern. “The murderer? That Lars Sorensen?” Nils nodded. “He escaped with two other men. They split up and were talking on radios they stole from somewhere. Guards at the prison I think.” He shivered, “I worked there as an officer, they took me hostage… I’d only been working there a few months and… You have to help me they’ll kill me if they find me.” Enjar looked at the man shuddering on the sofa. His pleading eyes seemed to be telling the truth at least partially.

“Fine.” Enjar sighed. “Take the blankets and go up to the tower. Climb the stairs until you reach the top. There’s a small maintenance closet at the top you can hide in. I’ll tell them I haven’t seen anyone around.” He glanced at the shoes and socks by the fire, picking them up and placing them in the cupboard under the kitchen counter. Looking up at Nils, he raised his eyebrows, “Well, go!” he pointed at the door and Nils sprung up, grabbing the blankets and racing to the door.

Enjar heard the shortwave crackle to life, it was Matthew, the local coast guard. “Attention all staff in the area this is Base. I repeat attention all staff, this is Base. Be advised there have been escaped convicts sighted in the area. Be on look out for four men, Lars Sorensen, Hugo Andersen, Neil Larson and Nils Strass. Consider them armed and dangerous. Do not approach. Report all sightings to me immediately. Do you copy Tower 1?” Enjar listened as each of the towers answered.

“Do you copy Tower 4?”

Enjar reached for the receiver, “Tower 4, copy. Be advised, I heard some chatter, no one I recognised. Do the men in question have radios? Tower 4 out.” His mind was reeling, was Nils also a convict? Should he even be helping him?

“Copy, Tower 4. Checking now,” a few seconds ticked by as Enjar waited for the reply. “Yes, they have radios. Passing that on now, thanks Tower 4. Will send some…” The radio was overcome with scrambled buzzing, “Tower 4 do you…” Enjar reached for the receiver, “Base repeat?” “Tow- Be advis- Cauti- Tower 4. Over?” Trying to contact Matthew again, Enjar heard the wind howl against the lighthouse. The radio buzzed and then went quiet. “Dang it. The storm is interfering with the signal. Piece of shit.” He looked at the machine, twisting nobs and pressing a couple of buttons. It made a high pitched whine, before promptly cutting out. Trying the hand held radio, Enjar spoke into it, only receiving static. “Shit. Signal’s gone”

He sat on the sofa, hoping that someone would be able to come and check on him as he watched the rain batter against the window. The fire had died down to embers now, providing a slight glowing light. As he watched the raindrops race down the window, he began to feel sleep settle in. He lay back on the sofa, shivering as the wind shook the rattling window and letting a sliver of cool air in. As he dozed, arm flopped over the edge of the sofa, he swore he saw a shadow in the window. His stomach sank.

It all happened in a few seconds.

The door burst open and a large, wet, bearded man barged into the cabin. He had a large purple bruise on his cheek and a blackened eye, clearly from a well placed punch. Enjar leapt from the sofa, staring at him. “Heard your little conversation. Though I’d come and put a name and face to that lovely voice of yours.” He growled, holding up a small, handheld radio, before he placed it in his pocket. The wind whistled through the cabin as the man rushed at Enjar, who dodged, flinging himself onto the sofa, then diving towards the fireplace. The man was panting as he rested his hand against the edge of the sofa. “Ahh, so it’s going to be like that huh?” His cold, dead eyes stared into Enjar’s, sending a shiver down his spine. He had seen eyes like that before.

Lars Sorensen however, was famous. He was convicted almost 5 years before of heinous murders. He’d killed at least a dozen people, probably more realistically. But now, he was standing in front of Enjar, even bigger and uglier than his photo made him out to be.

Enjar’s hand found the small shovel used to clean coals from the fire. He gripped the it, shoving the shovel into the hot ash and scooping some up. He flung them at Lars who put up his arms in front of his face. He was wearing a cheap, nylon jumper that the few small coals went straight through, as well as the prison jumpsuit he had on underneath. They bounced off his heavy boots, before Lars lowered his arms, stamping out the glowing embers. “Oh, you’re going to regret that.”

He lunged again, Enjar using the shovel to move the chair into his way. Lars picked it up and threw it at him, forcing him to duck. Enjar swung the shovel back at him, the hot metal landing on Lars’ pale face, making him yelp in pain. He knew Lars was cold and he couldn’t keep up fighting for long, but then again, neither could Enjar. He had to end this now. The door shook as the wind blew against it, causing the embers to flare and then fade.

In the darkened room it was already hard to see, but the loss of the one source of light made it nearly impossible. Enjar heard a heavy footstep behind him but couldn’t move out of the way in time. A large, meaty hand landed on his shoulder, crushing it and pulling him around to face the man holding him. Enjar gasped in pain as both shoulders were grabbed, and he was thrown back hard against the wall.

The walls were made of exposed stone, great for trapping heat, not so great for a soft landing. Enjar felt his head crack against it, sending a bright, sharp pain through his head. The hands met his shoulders again, pulling him forward. “Where’s that brat Nils? I know he’s here.” Enjar looked up, feigning confusion. “The only Nils I know is the pharmacist in town. So… the pharmacy I guess.” Lars threw him against the bricks and he felt his head crack against the stone again. He felt dizzy now. 


“Don’t play smart with me, keeper. I know you know who I mean. Little bastard left footprints leading right to your door. I followed them right here.” He pointed at the muddy footprints scattered across the floor. “Those? They’re mine. I leave the house you know, I’ve got stuff to do. I’m a lighthouse keeper not a hermit.” Lars threw him against the wall again. The world began to sway and Enjar’s legs felt a bit weak.

“That’s a lie. I tracked them myself.” Lars lifted a small torch from his pocket, turning it on and shining it in Enjar’s eyes, forcing him to squint. “Nice scar. Think I’ll add another one if you don’t tell me where that son of a bitch is.” Enjar glanced up at the convict, panting as he tried to stay awake. “I have… no idea… who you’re talking… about.”

Lars bristled. “Liar!” He screamed, pulling Enjar forward, before slamming him back one more time. Enjar heard a ringing in his ears as the weight lifted off his shoulders and he groaned, sinking to the floor. His head felt like it had exploded, it was pounding as he came to a stop on the floor, slumped against the wall. Lars chuckled, patting his head and trudging off into the cabin. “Oh Nils, where are you? Nils? NILS?!” He hollered into the cabin, which was the last thing Enjar heard before the world went dark.

Lars heard the lighthouse keeper sigh. Tuning around, he saw the man go limp, slumped heavily against the wall.

He wouldn’t be an issue now.

Walking to the sagging, pathetic sofa, he bent down, looking under it. There was nothing there except dust. The door swung noisily on its’ hinges, annoying and squeaky. Lars groaned, walking to door and slamming it shut. It rattled, shaken at the force at which it was pulled shut, but was enough to make the small glass window shudder.

Opening all the cupboard doors in the kitchen Lars peered in, unable to see much. Feeling around he couldn’t grab anything, until his hands came to rest on a container. ‘This bastard eats almost nothing. Unless he’s fed it all to that weasel.’ He though to himself, opening the container and smelling the pleasant smell of dried meat. Grabbing a handful of dried meat, he shoveled it in his mouth. It tasted quite good, causing him to lift his eyebrows in surprise at the pleasant mix of dried herbs and salt. Swallowing the meat he continued to the bedroom.

Ripping the blankets from the bed, then checking under it, he sighed in frustration. He tore open the closet door, being met with with a few musty smelling quilts and blankets. A moth fluttered out of the space and into the room. Moving to the bathroom, he flicked on the light, listening to it buzz. The room was small, a toilet, tiny sink and a pitiful shower. He found it hard to believe the keeper man chose to live like this. Lars had a better bathroom in prison. Then again, this was almost a prison in and of itself, in a way. ‘Damn lighthouse.’ He thought to himself.

Leaving the bathroom, he made his way to the main room, stumbling around in the dark, until he spied the light switch. He fumbled his way over, turning it on. In the dim, flickering light he observed the scene before him.

The lighthouse keeper was crumpled on the floor, blood flowing down the back of his neck, over his ear and onto his shoulder. There was a smear of blood on the wall above him too, where his head had been slammed and sank.

As he walked back through the kitchen, he noticed the shoes and socks tucked away. They were way too large to be the keeper’s shoes and Nils had been forced to grab a large pair… Lars smiled to himself. He opened the closet by the door he hadn’t noticed in the dark and laughed with glee at the sight. Rope. Lots and lots of rope. Picking up one of them from the closet, he walked over to the lighthouse keeper. He grabbed the chair he had thrown at him and sat it up. Picking up the body of the man, he dragged the lighthouse keeper into the chair. ‘For a man a lot smaller than me, he’s a heavy son of a bitch.’ Lars thought, dropping the limp keeper in the chair with a thud.

He tied the man’s arms to the back of the chair, noticing the scars. ‘Gotta be careful with this one. Must be a fighter.’ His mind flickered with annoyance at this, the small burns on his own arm throbbing a little. Soon the keeper was all tied up, so at least enough so that if he woke, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

Lars noticed he was quite still, but he could hear the tiny sounds of his breath going in and out, so he knew he was alive. It was better that way, at least for now.

He turned and stared at the door leading to what he assumed was the tower. “I wonder what the views are like from up there? Well, I’d better go see for myself…” he muttered in the keeper’s ear, stroking the man’s long hair. He pulled the hair tie from his head, sliding it around his own wrist. “Might come in handy.” He muttered, thinking about his own head of hair or what was left of it. He was nearly bald, but his beard was as bushy as ever. Gathering it up and securing it with the band, Lars made his way to the door, grabbing the handle. He held his breath for a second before rushing in.

The bottom of the slim, steep metal stairs was barren. An old set of skis was leaning against the wall, clearly not used in forever. Next to that was a can of fuel for a car. Nudging it, Lars huffed in frustration. It was empty.

Beginning the climb he marveled at the design of the tower. It wasn’t stairs all the way up, instead there was a floor halfway up the tower. He’d never actually been inside a big one like this, he’d only ever seen the little ones that no one even lived in, not the traditional red and white striped ones. Upon reaching the floor, he observed the scene.

There was a workbench and some tools, probably for maintaining the light, and a large closet. Grinning he crept over to it, the cold tower making his skin prickle, with the added excitement of the chase already making him giddy. Pulling open the closet, he sighed in frustration. It was full of oil and grease and a huge light, probably a replacement for the big turning one. There was also a flat thing covered in a soft sheet. Picking at the sheet, Lars realised it was a mirror. Pulling it forward, he checked behind it.

No Nils.

Maybe the keeper had taken his shoes and passed him on. The bastard did steal a pair that were way to big for him. He had paid for it though, when he had to walk over the rocky beach with no shoes because he kept tripping. He slowed them down more than the other two had, not that they were much better. Then again, they weren’t a problem anymore anyway.

“Nils…” Lars softly called out. He listened, waiting for any sound. Nothing. Continuing his climb to the tower, he reached the final floor with a low ceiling. He had to crouch a little, as he noticed the trap door and small, iron ladder. He walked up to it, pushing the door open and stepping up into the light room. It was smaller than he’d imagined it to be, the light humming slowly as the machine rotated lazily in circles. Stepping up into the room, he watched for any sign of the ratty little man, but to no avail. Stepping back down, he pulled the heavy trapdoor shut, turning to leave.

He noticed the door.

Half the room was bricked off, turned into a large closet, presumably to store stuff… The perfect hiding spot. Lars took in an excited breath, walking to the door and pulling it open. It squeaked loudly on its’ rusted hinges. Lars noticed a small, old fashioned light switch beside the door frame. He pressed the button and a barely functioning lamp flickered to life, humming louder than all the others in this damn lighthouse.

Inside the closet, well it was really a small room, was a shelf with an old gas lantern on it, covered in a few decades worth of dust. Old, rusted metal parts were stacked against the wall, long forgotten. There was a grey blanket huddled in the corner covering something. That… that wasn’t supposed to be there. Sure the blanket looked ratty and old, but it wasn’t covered in the layers of dust that everything else was. Stepping forward, he approached the blanket, before his hand shot out and he ripped it off. Underneath was a shivering little man, wrapped in a quilt, who looked up in horror with the widest eyes Lars had ever seen. “Found you.” He growled.

Nils yelped in pain as the large bearded man’s hand grabbed his arm. He squeezed it so hard, Nils though it would snap like a twig. Wincing as he was dragged from the closet, Lars pulled him down the many stairs, back towards the cabin. Nils cringed at the thought of Enjar seeing this. The guy seemed nice, Nils knew that he would be upset when he realised he had lied, but he probably would have turned him away if he had told the truth, any sane person would. After Lars had pushed Neil off the cliff and drowned Hugo in the stream, Nils knew he wouldn’t be safe for long. The sooner he could get away from the maniac the better… and now, he was royally fucked.

Re-entering the cabin, Nils gasped. Enjar was slumped in a the chair, head and neck covered in blood. His arms were bound tightly behind him to the chair, his legs each strapped to a chair leg. He looked to be in bad shape as he took small, faint breaths, Nils’ gut telling him they were almost too small and faint. “Like what I did with the place?” Lars joked, holding out his other arm and swinging around, as if he were showing off a freshly renovated home.

Pulling another chair from the table, Lars sat the quivering Nils down, picking up more rope from the table and tying him up too. Nils knew better than to fight. At least then he might have a small chance of getting away. The wind had died down a little, and the shortwave cackled to life.

“Tower 4. This is Base. Respond immediately. Repeat, respond immediately.”

Lars laughed, “Nah, they won’t be getting any response any time soon…”

Matthew turned from the radio and ran his hand through his hair anxiously. Enjar was always quick to respond. He was always by the old short wave in his tower and when he wasn’t he had his hand held. Matthew’s stomach sank at the thought of what might have happened him.

A search team had found Neil Larson at the bottom of a cliff and Hugo Andersen drowned in a little stream, closest to Tower 4. It looked like they had been murdered, there were injuries on their bodies from what looked like a fight.

Perhaps the storm had cut off contact… but he was getting through to the rest of the towers, Tower 9 was the closest to Tower 4 and they could talk fine. “Tower 4. Please respond. Do you have a light?” Once the coded phrase for distress went unanswered, Matthew swore, picking up the radio and speaking with shaking words into it. “Base to Search Team Beta. We have a situation at Tower 4. Please investigate, ASAP. Base over and out.”

“Copy Base. Search Team Beta over and out.”

“Come on Enjar. Pick up damn it…” Matthew stared at the radio, willing Enjar’s voice to come out of it. He was met with a deafening silence, only broken by the chatter of the radios from other lighthouse keepers who were beginning to clue in to the situation by now.

Enjar groaned, lifting his pounding head. Nils glanced at him, watching his eyes open and letting out a breath he hadn’t reailsed he was holding. Enjar glanced at Nils, dazed. “Nils?” Nils shook his head, “Shh, it’s okay. He found me… You need to stay still okay. You’re hurt pretty bad. Lars went to piss, so we’ll be alone for a minute or so more.”

Enjar’s head dropped, as the world swayed. He had experienced his fair share of bad concussions before, but this was something else. He was fighting to keep his eyes open as he tried to move, only to realise his arms were stuck. Pulling on them again, he saw he was tied up. “Fuck…” He groaned quietly, sinking in his chair. He glanced at Nils, who was going in and out of focus. “You… you’re not his escaped hostage… are you? You’re not even a guard…” he grimaced as a wave of pain rocked his skull. “You’re one of them…”

 Nils looked away ashamed.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice shook. “Lars was so nice to me… he protected me from the other prisoners, big guys who could snap you in half with ease…” A tear fell down his face, “But when we escaped… We grabbed what we could. He couldn’t fit into any of the guard’s clothes we stole, but he took a jacket. We all stole stuff… shoes, clothes and- and radios…” His voice hitched as the tears began to stream down. “Hugo and Neil got frustrated when we ended up out here. Lars left a cache around but we couldn’t find it. He was obsessed with finding it… it was all he could think about, talk about… dream about. We all got in a fight… He pushed Neil off a cliff and drowned Hugo and- and I just ran. When I saw the light from the lighthouse, I just hoped you’d let me in and… I didn’t want you to turn me away… so I- I lied…”

Nils looked over at Enjar, who was staring at him, he looked mad, which was understandable, but also a little sympathetic. “I wou-ldn’t have… t-urned yo-u away…” He mumbled, his words catching in weird places. Nils felt a little pang of worry. “I wouldn’t hav-have left you in that storm to… d-die.” Enjar’s eyes became distant as he suddenly began staring into space. “Enjar?” Nils’ voice rose in panic as he watched the man’s eyes roll back in his head. “Enjar?” He squeaked, glancing around. Lars would be back soon. Enjar seemed to sag as he sighed, passing out completely. Something told Nils that was very, very bad.

Lars chose that moment to storm back in. He was adjusting his jumpsuit. “Damn. That was a nice piss. I wouldn’t have had to hold so much in if I wasn’t looking for you though.” He glared at Nils. “Did he wake up?” He nudged Enjar’s shoulder, watching as he drooped in the restraints. “No.” Nils lied, looking up at the man.

“Weird, I could of sworn he’s moved... and that I heard you talking to him, pipsqueak.” He grabbed Enjar by the jaw, lifting his head. “I know you can hear me, keeper man. Quit the act already.” Enjar remained limp and silent, Lars huffed and removed his hand, watching the man’s head drop heavily forwards. “Well if he’s faking he’s doing a damn good job of it.” He kicked Enjar’s right shin. “Eh, whatever.”

Wandering over to Nils, began to untie him. “You’re gonna come with me Nillsy. We’re gonna go on a little ride in keeper man’s little boat.” As soon as he was free, Nils leapt forward, grabbing the knife beside the weird skull. He held it in front of him, shaking. “Oh,” Lars exclaimed, laughing. “What, are you gonna take me out with that toothpick? Come on pipsqueak, you couldn’t fight to save your life.” Lars began to untie Enjar, “What do you think, he’d make a nice human shield for me wouldn’t he?” He hoisted up the limp man, holding him under his arms. Enjar twitched, coming around. “And here he is, back in the land of the living at last.” Lars mumbled in his ear. “Welcome back, lighthouse keeper.”

Enjar lifted his head, confused at the scene before him. The last thing he remembered was being tied up, so why was he standing? He realised he was being held up when the man, Lars mumbled in his ear, “Welcome back, lighthouse keeper.” He glanced at Nils, who was holding his knife out at them both, quivering like a leaf. “Let me go…” Enjar growled as he felt the adrenaline kick in. His survival instincts were still intact, especially after last time…

Survival instincts took over. He shoved his attacker, the machete flinging itself away as Viktor fell backward. Enjar’s fists met Viktor’s face, over and over until the man lay limp below him. His arms and face were bleeding profusely and his head felt thick as he stood. The world tilted as he heard a distant yell, and then he hit the ground, his head hitting a rock and sending him into a black void.

He had retired after that. The flashbacks were too much. The anxiety of being around people, any of them could be monsters. When he had heard an old lighthouse keeper of one of the most isolated lighthouses in the country had retired, he jumped at the chance to go. 8 years later, he was happy, content with his life of solitude. Sometimes it was lonely but it was safe, it was free. That was the sacrifice he had made. And now.. that was broken, by this bastard, by this murderer. A murderer like Viktor… 


Enjar’s body seemed to almost explode. Despite his injuries, he was still quite powerful, thrashing against the much bigger Lars. He managed to slip from the man’s grip, and jumped on him. Lars staggered back, crashing into the table behind him as Enjar attacked his face. He screamed and raised his arms in defence from Enjar’s fists, only for him to shove the smaller man off. Enjar staggered, leaning heavily on the wall. The dried blood on his neck, was beginning to drip in some places as sweat formed on his skin. Lars lifted himself off the table, running at the man, when Nils screamed out loud, thrusting the knife at the man.

He felt the blade sink into the man’s arm, and Lars howled, ripping the small knife from his arm and clutching the wound. “Little shit!” He screamed, raising the knife to attack the little man. A weak hand caught his wrist. Enjar was gripping it, arm shaking with the effort. “You don’t wanna do that.” He growled, watching the killer with his own, cold eyes. Lars felt a shiver go down his spine as he turned to the weakened man. He had the eyes of a killer too. “Maybe I should finish you off instead.” He raised the knife, thrusting it at the man who could barely stand.

Nils leapt forward, shielding the injured lighthouse keeper. The knife sank into his chest, just below his collar bone. He fell to the floor, dazed and in shock. Enjar shoved Lars back, stepping over the bleeding convict at his feet and eyeing down Lars. He was panting with the effort, his mind focused on one thing:

Taking. Him. Down.

A yell from outside distracted the tall man, Enjar taking that exact moment to tackle him. A bright light filled the cabin as Enjar wrestled the man to the ground, managing to get on top of him and hold his arm behind him. A swarm of people in tactical gear filled the cabin, someone rushing to Nils’ side, whilst another pulled Enjar off Lars.

Enjar felt an arm pull him back as three people in tactical gear jumped on top of Lars. He heard a far off voice say something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. He suddenly felt empty, his head feeling light and his limbs heavy, watching as the world blurred and went dark.

Nils watched Enjar stumble, before collapsing. The person who pulled him off Lars caught him, slinging his arm across his shoulder. Nils realised he was being carried by two people, out of the cabin towards flashing lights. His shoulder felt weird as he was loaded onto a stretcher, listening to the voices of people around him. Someone shined a light in his face and he blinked confused.

Enjar sat on the sofa, sipping strong coffee and staring at the cabin. It was spotless, like that night had never happened. Weirdly, he didn’t feel anxious like he had after Viktor, still felt secure here. Matthew brought him another blanket, wrapping it around his friend’s shoulders. “You with me Enjar?” Enjar blinked, realising he had been staring into space again. “Yeah, yeah… I’m here.” He looked at the man beside him, sighing and leaning back.

“I’m just confused. Why don’t I feel like I did before? The therapist was worried that I would go back to how I was 8 years ago, but I feel fine… I keep waiting for it to hit but it never does. It’s been months…” He rubbed the scar on the back of his head, beneath his freshly washed hair.  Matthew sighed, staring at the flames. “Maybe it’s cause you don’t blame yourself this time? I know you blame yourself about Viktor.” Enjar looked into his coffee swirling it with a quiet groan.

“I guess… That kid, Nils, sacrificed himself for me too… That gave me the chance to take Andersen down… Dr. Dall said that because I have a completed scenario in my head my brain can handle it… I don’t know…” He glanced at Matthew, curious. “How is that kid?”

He had often wondered about the criminal who had jumped in front of that knife that night. Did he even survive?



“He’s fixed up pretty well. He got moved to a different prison, away from Lars’ buddies. From everything I heard he’s happy, even with an extended sentence.” Matthew smiled, patting Enjar on the shoulder. “He’s lucky the knife was so small, it missed everything important by a hair.” Looking at his watch, he sighed, standing from the sofa. “I’d better get going, it’s already pretty late. Let me know if you need anything, Enjar, any time.” He glanced at the man who nodded, curled up on the sofa, already sleepy and warm in front of the fire. Taking the cup from his hand and placing it next to the short wave, Matthew bid Enjar goodnight and left the cabin.

For the first time in a while, Enjar sighed, falling into a restful sleep, lulled by the hush of the waves beside his home. He still felt secure. He still felt safe. Even after all this time, after everything… he hadn’t had a bad dream in ages.

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

camping headcannons with the whole stranger gang

———

Packing actually takes a lot longer than all of you would like.

For one person households, like you, Eddie, Steve, Dustin, Robin, Max, and Argyle, packing doesn’t take more than an hour or two. But for two or more households, like the byers, the wheelers, and the sinclairs (even though Erica’s not going she can’t help but bug the crap out of Lucas), packing takes more than two hours.

Who is carpooling with who takes almost as long, between Nancy and Steve’s cars, and Argyle’s and Eddie’s vans. It becomes decided that Nancy will take Jonathan, Mike, El, and Will. Steve will take Robin, Dustin, and Lucas. Eddie and you ride in his van. And Argyle takes all the important luggage, like tents, blankets, pillows, sleeping bags, sleeping cots, food, and more.

The lot of you travel a couple miles out of Hawkins and into a well known forest, as couple of the kids had camped here throughout their childhood. You all find a clearing in the forest to settle in and start unpacking immediately. The adults set up the tents while the kids bickering over who is getting what tent.

The boys (Mike, Dustin, Will, and Lucas) and Max all settle into a five person tent. At that point, the only thing they have left to bicker over is who’s cot goes where.

Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy then settle into their own tent.

Thus leaving you, Eddie, Steve, and Robin do your own four person tent.

Once night comes around, a campfire is built and the portable cooking grill is put to work. Tonight’s dinner is hotdogs, buns and condiments are distributed.

From the day of travel, everyone goes to bed quick. You fall asleep quickly to Robin and Steve bickering sleepily.

The summer weekend camping trip is filled with many shenanigans. Such as take a small journey to the nearby lake and watching as the kids played downstream while you and Eddie made it a competition to see who can catch the most fish bare handed, collecting walking sticks, and birdwatching with a pair of binoculars your brought.

You all took turns telling ghost stories at night, around the campfire, accompanied by hotdogs and s’mores. And if you were all up late enough, you’d burn out the fire and listening to the coyotes yap in the distance.

When bedtime came around, you could hear the kids bickering in their tent over something, Steve and Robin discussing their points, and Eddie casted shadows around your tent with his small lamp that he used to read his latest book.

This is what you feel asleep to the last two nights. And you slept great.

[andymurphy]

Lanterns and flashlights are ideal tools for finding your way around your campsite in the dark during camping lanterns provide adequate light output. A lantern with a fan can be handy if you are an adventurer and camping in summer. If you are looking for a lantern and want to buy Led camping lantern with fan, I recommend the vitaadventure online shop.

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