#Season 2 when they were on Berk slapped too

[dizzybevvie]

Every day i resist the urge to rewatch this series

[fanofawesomethings]

Rise Part 2: Bitter Storms

Part 2. First part needs to be read in order for the rest of this to be understood. Got it? Read first part.

North from the rest of the world and miles from anything hospitable for the faint of heart, another powerful blizzard struck the island of Berk two nights ago. Damage was minimal, the houses were strong. Everything was paper white snow that was knee-deep, which made the days even colder than normal. And yet, the snow and cold were pushed to the side. The people of Berk were far too busy to mind the cold, that day or any other before it. Everything had to be ready in two days.

 Daily life was different in Berk for so many years. Dragons, big and small, mighty and lanky, made the small island their home. They crowded every inch. To its people, Berk and dragons went hand in hand, so much so that the people made a game to honor them. Dragon Racing, a competition for only the fiercest dragon riders. The object: capture as many sheep as possible and drop them in baskets to score. After an intense season, the championship match was fast approaching. The villagers were eagerly preparing for it.

 “Little higher!” Tuffnut shouted from down below.

 “This good?” Ruffnut, his twin sister, replied. She used their dragons, a Hideous Zippleback, a twin headed dragon, as a ladder. The left head was Barf and the right was Belch.

 “You moved it like an inch. Come on, we need to get this place ready for when we win the game. Everybody’s gonna wanna hang out in the champion’s house,” he boasted.

 It was obvious which house was theirs. No other house in the village boasted the green marker as much as theirs did. The twins were fitting a shield above the doorway; both were both painted with the green emblem of the Zippleback.

 “Yeah, I’ll bet we beat the lovey-dovey dream-team so bad Stoick’ll throw us a parade in our honor,” she laughed. The dragon, named Barf and Belch, chortled with glee at the thought too.

 “Now you’re talking! Hey little to the right.” Belch, the right head, moved its rider’s as commanded. “No my right!”

 “It’s the same right, idiot!”

 “Hey I’m the one whose gonna lead us to victory, no way I want my shield to be crooked.”

 “What’re you talkin’ about!? Me and Barf are practically carrying this team!” The dragon head agreed.

 “Says you. It’s me and Belch who pick up the slack around here.” The other dragon head agreed. The left head snapped at the right head.

 While they argued a lump of snow was seemingly gathered into a firm sphere. No one in the surrounded houses saw it get lifted off the ground and thrown, hitting the grounded twin at the back of the head.

 “Ow! Who threw that?” When no one was there to direct his anger at, Tuffnut turned to Ruffnut.

 “I thought you said you were the ‘mature twin’ or something. Why’d you throw a snowball at me!?” Tuffnut barked.

 “What? How the heck would I throw a snowball at you? I’m off the ground!” Ruffnut growled back.

 “I don’t know, maybe you used your witchy powers or something. Always knew you were cursed.”

 Another snowball was thrown, hitting Ruffnut that time on the cheek. “Hey! You wanna start somethin’ you better come up here and finish it!”

“Oh ho! It’s on now!”

Tuffnut scaled the dragon to reach his sister. The fight between the twins was like the countless other times they fought—slaps and punches with each breath. Their neighbors found it more annoying than amusing, especially when they turned loud. Deafening insults of every variety shattered the tranquility of the morning. They couldn’t hear themselves over their other’s gripes nor could they hear the laughter of the unseen person who threw the snowballs.

Meanwhile, across the village, a gust of cold wind tussled the back of Snotlout’s hair. Panicked, he dropped the stacks of lumber he carried to quickly fix his mane. The wood his father told him to gather for the game torches rolled away while his concerns were elsewhere. Strands of hair back in alignment, Snotlout admired his reflection on the side of his helmet, but when it wasn’t big enough to see himself he plucked a nearby shield off a house to serve as a mirror.

“Who’s one tough Viking? Who can beat up all the Outcasts with one look and wins all the ladies with another? You are that’s who. Or is…? Whatever, I look darn good,” said Snotlout, blowing a kiss to himself.

For the four days straight Snotlout had been practicing his acceptance, speech, styled his hair, and got his armor shiny bright in anticipation of the Championship match. Actually practicing was the last thing on his mind.

 Suddenly a single strand of white hair caught his eye. Snotlout’s jaw hit the ground. He checked his surroundings as though the tiny hair stood out like a twenty foot tall dragon; Snotlout took cover behind the house. With the tips of his fingernails he steadied his hand to remove it without ruining the integrity of the rest of his hair.

 Laughter, a mischievous chuckle, found Snotlout behind the house, but just as before it went unnoticed. A young man with skin paler than snow and hair like frozen waves plotted in the shadows. He held a long stick with a curved tip outwards, aimed at Snotlout. A burst of wind escaped, hitting Snotlout’s back and rising to the sky. In a split second, Snotlout was left with a head of messy hair in a confused stupor because it happened so fast.

 Snotlout screamed. “My mane! My sweet beautiful hair! It never even got a chance to see me accept the champion’s prize. ARGH!” He cracked his fists. “WHO!?”

 Eyes sharp as dagger he searched for the culprit. The young man was laughing without restraint, out in the open. Snotlout looked in his direction and then continue searching. The young man, Jack Frost, threw away secrecy knowing he was safe.

 The cold winds picked up again, that time without being called. Jack spread his arms out like wings and the breeze rocketed him into the sky as though he was lighter than a feather. Soaring higher and higher, above the tallest building in the village, Jack wasn’t afraid, rather his smiles widened the higher he got. He flew with a flurry of snowflakes around him. It wasn’t anything new for the young man but it was a sensation he loved every time. He broke away from the current and dove towards the base of the mountain. The ground was fast approaching, he didn’t have any winds to stop his descending speed, and yet Jack saw the spot where he intended to land in. POOF! Jack landed face first into a pile of snow which softened his landing, as intended. He landed in front of a small cave with ice blocks all over the inside, his home.

 “I knew moving here was a good idea, something exciting always happens here,” said Jack to himself. He waved his hands, a beam of blue light struck the ground and an ice block formed from his palm; he used it as a chair. “Oh Berk, I hope you never change.”

 So many years, too many to count, passed since Jack could remember. He could only remember seeing the moon, feeling cold, and then watching as everyone in the world ignoring him. No matter how loud he screamed, how hard he touched them, no ordinary person could see or hear Jack. In his isolation Jack traveled the world for many years. He eventually stumbled upon Berk, a small island where cold weather was commonplace. Living in the small cave wasn’t ideal at first but he managed. But Berk proved to be more entertainment for Jack than he realized; after witnessing the rise and fall of dragon slaying, he found himself feeling at home in the small island. The commonplace cold weather may have come from him.

A school of Terrible  Terrors sailed by his cave. One with a limp wing broke away from the rest and plopped in front of the young man. The tiny creature curled up besides his foot, waiting for Jack to pet him like he always does. Jack smiled, he always enjoyed the company. He lightly hovered his fingers over its spine, without touching it. The Terror purred with delight like Jack had been actually petting it. But the tips of his finger tips went through the dragon’s skin.

“Sorry, little guy, I wish I could give you a good back scratch,” sighed Jack. His inability to touch was a bitter truth that stung him every time.

 A rush of wind threw the tiny Terrible Terror through Jack like a sheet of paper. Jack was overjoyed, he raced outside. There was only one dragon on Berk, maybe even in the world, Jack knew could rattle the icicles in his cave with explosive speed alone A dragon-shaped shadow blocked the sun. Toothless, a Nightfury—the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself—zoomed through the clouds with its body in a blur and a roar that energized Jack each time he heard it.

 “WOOO! YEAH TOOTHLESS!” Jack cheered, catching his attention, but not his rider’s.

 “What’cha looking at, Bud, another sea arch to break like the last one?” He asked. The helmeted rider found the cave but not the young man cheering his dragon on. “Oh a cave? Never noticed that one before. Interesting.”

 Out of every story Berk had to tell, Jack was most interested in watching the story of Hiccup unfold. Son of the Stoick the Vast, chief of Berk, the first to ride a dragon, the one who brought peace between Vikings and dragons, and the one who defeated raider after raider. No one on Berk, not even Stoick the Vast, grabbed Jack’s attention more than Hiccup.

 Toothless ascended higher. Hiccup clutch the leather brace, clicking his metal leg to adjust the dragon’s tail.

 “Come on, Bud! Keep going!” Hiccup roared. Toothless was equally excited.

 Jack grabbed his staff and climbed up the mountain side until the wind scooped him up. He used it to follow them above the clouds. But Hiccup and Toothless weren’t stopping there. They climbed and climbed, and Jack flew to the next gust of wind to catch up. Toothless noticed Jack following them but it only made him want to go farther.

 Dragon and rider touched the coldest part of the sky, breaking through the overcast to see the glaring sun, but that wasn’t the end of it. Hiccup wanted to break their record. Toothless coughed under his breath without faltering.

 “What do you think: first one to open their wings cleans the stables?” Hiccup bartered.

 Toothless gave a tooth-less smile in agreement.

 Hiccup readied Toothless’ metal attachment. Jack’s favorite part of their daily flights was coming; he watched with eager. Hiccup pushed off Toothless’ saddle, flipping backward and then diving down with his back straight. Toothless joined his rider’s freefalling. Jack closed his body and let the wind drop him like a log.

 All three plummeted to the ground, rapid winds clouding their ears, but although Hiccup didn’t know it, he shared the sensation of freedom in freefalling with Jack. Toothless and Hiccup met in the air, laughing at the other. The dragon looked to the side, to Jack, and stuck his tongue out towards him; Jack liked to feel included. Being so high it took some time to see the ground again. Breaking through the clouds the game began. Jack couldn’t decide who would open their wings first. Hiccup was just as brave as Toothless was, or rather the two were the same measure of foolhardy. The mountain peak zoomed by. They were poised to land on top of the great hall’s roof. Cleaning the dragon stables was no easy task, for a dragon or a person, it was obvious neither of the two wanted to be the loser. Hiccup was the first to feel a twinge of fear. The ground was fast approaching. Jack couldn’t hold his excitement.

 “The grounds looking really up close and personal, Toothless. Makes a dragon rethink leaving the air,” Jack egged on.

 Toothless whimpered.

 It was going to be close. The ground. The distance between them and landing a very painful landing. Hiccup could almost see the details in the roof’s tiles. In the end it was Hiccup who unzipped his leather, faux wings first. He caught the wind just in time and then Toothless after. The two reunited with only a couple dozen feet left to go. Hiccup pulled Toothless out of the nosedive and together they touched down safely. Hiccup turned to mush as he fell over; Toothless dropped his belly on the ground. Jack landed with a poof on a pile a snow.

 “Looks like I beat the both of you, but Hiccup definitely opened his first so he loses,” remarked Jack.

 Toothless whipped his tail to the back of Hiccup’s head to jog his memory.

“Yeah, yeah, I know the terms, I lost so I gotta clean the stables tonight. Fantastic. I hoped for a night with milady, but who wants that when I get to clean dragon poop until past midnight,” groaned Hiccup sarcastically.

 “A bet is a bet,” said Astrid who had been waiting by the great hall entrance for them, “and it sounds like you lost so you gotta lose with grace.”

 Astrid was the second person to catch Jack’s attention, maybe even rivaling his interest in Hiccup. She was the strongest and bravest young Viking, not to mention she was a combat master. And she was also Hiccup’s girlfriend.

 “You don’t sound bummed at all to miss out on a night with me,” said Hiccup.

 “What can I say? I like men who uphold the honor of a contest. Besides, I’m actually going to be pretty busy. Stoick asked me to soothe the sheep for the games. A few of them had nervous breakdowns after the last season,” said Astrid, kissing Hiccup on the cheek on his helmet. He took of his leather mask expecting to get a second kiss, but she gave it to the top of Toothless’ head instead.

 “Yeah, I guess the sheep need calming so Dragon Racing doesn’t turn into sheep hide-and-seek like last time.” Hiccup comically collapsed on the snow, unknowingly landing next to Jack.

 After so many faces coming and going, it was some time since Jack had last seen a face up close like that. Hiccup’s eyes were green. Jack was surprised to discover something he didn’t know about his favorite story in Berk. Intrigue commanded Jack to notice more details like the tiny scar on Hiccup’s chin. Jack finally had a reason to count every freckle on his face. Something compelled Jack to keep staring. He couldn’t remember the last time he laid eyes on something he felt was beautiful but Jack seemed to recognize the sensation when he looked at Hiccup.

Astrid lay down next to Hiccup which put her on the other side of Jack. He noticed the alluring blue of her eyes immediately. Her hair was like strands of straw that had been strung into a gold shine. The freckles on her face were harder to spot, hidden under her flushed face, but Jack discovered them. She was beautiful to Jack too.

She reached for a kiss and Jack stumbled through Hiccup in a panic like it was meant for him. Instead she kissed her boyfriend on the lips that time. Hiccup and Astrid shared a loving moment that made Toothless look away. Jack picked himself up, no longer between them; it was a twist in his stomach, a pain he’d felt before over being left out, and yet it felt different that time.

Jack flipped his raggedy cloak hood over his head as he walked away. He climbed to the top of the great hall, without the wind’s help, and stared into the horizon. It was a lot of uninteresting water. Five minutes staring bored the easily-distracted Jack and he watched the sky instead, though the experience was the same. He was bored, that much was clear, but he didn’t feel like watching Berk then.

“Starting to feel it again. Maybe a change of place would help. But it was impossible to find Berk last time I left. Maybe I’ll visit North and swing by Bunny’s place…for…some…fun…” Jack trailed off at the thought. He realized he’d done the very same thing many times before.

Out of the corner of his ear he heard Hiccup and Astrid laughing. He didn’t want to look. Up there he could hear the twins still arguing over his prank. Another gust of wind hit Snotlout’s hair and he heard him cry out in agony over it. He heard him complain to his friend Fishlegs who sounded like he didn’t know the first thing about hair maintenance. Jack sat upright again. He sat in the highest building in the village, easily observable by everyone, and yet they didn’t see.

Jack puffed out his chest with an inhale. “HEEEEEEEY!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.

The dragons in the surrounding area had their eyes rise at his shout, but the humans he hoped to attract were deaf. It wasn’t often Jack lamented about his circumstances, he was an expert on pushing the emotion down, but that time his eyes twinkled with the water swelling. He crumbled to his knees.

“Why don’t they hear me? I’m here, I’ve always been here. Why don’t they see me?” Jack asked himself. “When does it stop hurting?”

Ice was an instrument Jack knew how to play without practice. The tiles beneath his feet were tainted by a sheet of growing ice he caused. That afternoon a Viking would be surprised to see the roof of the great hall completely frozen over.

  In the latest hours the dragons slept with smoke bellowing from their nostrils. Rather than light lanterns, the people had a few dragons perched on top of homes and their snores would give us embers in puffs, enough to light the ground with enough of them huddled together. Berk had surprisingly quiet nights then. No more screams from Vikings as dragons attacked, everything was calm at night. Thankfully the dragon stables were thick enough to keep the noise from disrupting the calm.

Inside were hundreds of sleeping dragons. They eat and rest and socialize in the giant pod and when it was time to spread their wings there was a massive door for them to fly out of. But grouping most of Berk’s dragon in one place provided hazards. The collected stink of their waste in a single place would get so bad if left unchecked, and thus someone needed to clean them every night. The task fell on Hiccup after losing. Shovel in hand and a small escape hatch to dispense the filth into a hole down below. As grueling work as it was, Hiccup has enjoyment.

“Missed a spot,” said Astrid.

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you said you had sheep to soothe?”

“Of course, and I take my job really seriously. Getting a good night’s rest is essential to being soothed. So I’m letting them sleep and supervising another Viking’s duty at the same time.”

“Love you, babe,” said Hiccup, glad to have some company. He had a second person to keep them company.

Jack snuggled up against the bumpy hide of a Gronckle. The dragon didn’t mind the cold young man as it slept soundly. Almost every dragon was a heavy sleeper. Jack rearranged a stack of rocks that were supposed to be the Gronckle’s midnight snack into a pattern he’d seen once along his travels. Twelve standings stones he’d seen in a far land in a deep forest near a castle. He remembered them not arousing his interest.

“Did you hear about our new trader, Ansgar? The last time he came around I got two really nice daggers at a good deal,” said Astrid, making conversation.

“You and knives is a relationship I’ll never understand. Let’s just hope this trader works out better than the last one,” said Hiccup.

Jack was in a bad mood, one that wasn’t improved by boring side conversation. Everyone else in Berk was asleep and traveling across the world to a place sunny seemed too much of a hassle for the easily deterred young man. As far as Jack knew he didn’t need to sleep. He knocked over his stacks which got the attention of the two. Astrid shrugged it off as the pesky wind, but Hiccup scanned the scattered pebbles with suspicion.

“You know something’s been bothering me for a while now. Sometimes I see Toothless react to something like someone’s talking to him, but there’s never anyone there,” said Hiccup. Jack stirred.

“Dragons have sharper senses that us, they can hear and see things we can’t,” answered Astrid.

He shook his head. “I think it’s more than that. Any time I see Toothless react he always stares off into space like someone is actually there. Usually when Toothless hears something he looks around, but those times it’s like he already knows where the sound is coming from.”

“You’re not trying to tell me Berk has a ghost only Toothless can see?” Astrid laughed.

“Not even close,” remarked Jack.

“Come on, what do you take me for? I’m not that paranoid,” said Hiccup.

“It’s just another dragon mystery we’ll probably never know. You can’t discover them all.”

“No don’t give up, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Jack said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Hiccup took a hearty puff of breath, fueling the flame in his chest into a blaze, in the last spurt of labor with the remaining pile of poop. Two more roundabouts and Hiccup threw the last scoop out. It proved to be too much for him. Hiccup panted while his body rejected every ounce of sweat he had to give. Astrid went in for a kiss but her boyfriend smelled of sweat and poop so she kept her distance.

“Ho oh, mighty Thor you have bested the enemies of poop and are victorious in battle!” Astrid puffed her voice to sound deep.

“I finished before the first rooster call, that’s way better than last time, so I get to have the last laugh,” gloated Hiccup.

“Let’s head back, I need sleep and you need a bath.”

“It’s going to be cold,” Jack grumped.

“It’s going to be cold though,” Hiccup pouted.

 Hiccup and Astrid went side by side, though with some space in between. Jack didn’t feel like following, preferring to stay in the now clean stables with the only creatures in the island that could keep him company. Hiccup touched the door out when a breeze nipped the back of his neck. It was meant to keep him there. A whisper he heard next. Astrid heard a tiny voice behind them where none should be. The two dragon riders reached for their weapons as they turned around, but they would never get to use them. A blue flare caught Jack’s eye and he too saw what they did. What looked like a tiny campfire without the wood beckoned them to come closer with what looked like stringy arms. The whisper came from it.

 “Hiccup?” Astrid stuttered, but Hiccup didn’t have a clue either.

 Jack shot to his feet and got a closer. He didn’t expect the tiny flame to turn to him and beckon him as well. To Hiccup and Astrid the flame turned to an empty space, and then back to them. It stirred, flying towards Hiccup and Astrid; Astrid drew her axe but the little flame went complete through her stomach and out her back, floating like a little firefly, and then hovering by the door, signaling them.

 “Uh…I think it wants us to follow it,” Hiccup spoke.

 “I’d say we shouldn’t but you got that look in your eye. Do you think it’s safe?” She asked.

 “Not sure, but if it wanted to attack us it would’ve done it already. Besides, if anything happens, Toothless’ll come in a second.”

 Meanwhile Jack was raring to following the little ember, but it wouldn’t move until they did.

 It was reluctantly that Astrid agreed to accompany Hiccup. She knew common sense wouldn’t stop Hiccup’s curiosity from going.

 Seemingly boundless, it left a trail of dazzling sparkles. The sentient blue flame didn’t speak above its inaudible whispers and its soul purpose was to make sure they followed it all around Berk’s village. There were no night watchmen to see it, or to call for help. Hiccup and Astrid followed it more than they watched the road it led them on.

 Jack followed closer up. He saw nothing much to it’s besides the other side of its flame, but he meant to follow it anyways. Finally another creature that seemed to notice he was there, and it asked him to follow, which he was more concerned about than the fact that it called Hiccup and Astrid too. But as for answering his questions, it only called him to follow.

 Soon, it led them away from the city, through the forest, and then to the base of the mountain. When they were far the nearest house, Hiccup and Astrid raised their guards. Jack saw them clutch their weapons. He woke up from his mindless following to find apprehension in the curious ember, and he grabbed his staff with both hands, aimed at it. The ember ran up to a slender bolder that stood upright in a clearing in the forest. To Jack it was the same as the ones he’d seen.

 “A rock?” Astrid identified.

 “Never seen it before,” said Hiccup. The lantern zipped around it. “But it looks like it’s important.”

 The flame climbed the rock and hovered at the very top. Coming closer to it, strange markings were shown to them—swirling patterns that seemed to be incomplete. All three drew closer, slowly. The flame wiggled its arms.

 “I think this is something important,” said Hiccup.

 “Come on, I came all this way, will you answer me now? You can hear me, can’t you?” Jack inquired. Still the flame beckoned them.

 Hiccup, Astrid, and Jack took their step in the clearing. The flame stirred, startling them, and it circled around the pillar. It vanished after it touched the ground.

 “Hey wait!” Jack shouted. He didn’t notice his voice was louder than usual.

 A sensation he hadn’t felt since the dragons, he felt eyes on his him. Hiccup and Astrid jumped when a voice came out nowhere and then a young man appeared right in front of their eyes. They were staring in his direction. Jack whipped his head behind, but he couldn’t see what they saw. He turned back and they had finished leaning in closer. Jack took a step to the side and their eyes followed him. Their eyes followed him.

 “C-Can you…see me?” Jack gasped.

 Astrid and Hiccup both nodded their head, too spooked for words.

 “Can you hear me?”

 Again they nodded.

 Jack’s knees gave up on him and he dropped down. His body reacted with what looked like stage fright; he crawled backwards until he met the standing stone. They watched him skitter away. They watched him panting furiously. They watched him stare back at them. They saw him. Jack repeated the fact in his head to make sure he acknowledged it.

 The two saw a nervous young man who looked about the same age at them, paralyzed as if fearful. It was obvious, they never seen him in the village before. He wore rags for clothes, holding a long stick, with pale skin and silver hair like fresh snow. A thought crossed their mind at the same time without the other knowing: Astrid and Hiccup individually thought the young man was immensely handsome. They didn’t see any weapons visible on him and to them he looked like he was scared out of his mind. Astrid let go of her axe and Hiccup crouched down to Jack’s eye level.

 “Hey there, its okay, we won’t hurt you,” said Hiccup, not sure what to say. He pulled Astrid down.

 “You really startled us there, we had no idea you were here too,” Astrid said tenderly. She was not one for small talk with new faces.

 “Is he that new trader you told me about?” Hiccup asked her on the side.

 “Ansgar is twice as old as him. See, you’d know if you take down from time to time,” she corrected.

 “Okay, got it. Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you—”

A tear streaming down Jack’s cheek interrupted Hiccup, and then another.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Astrid inquired. She extended a hand to him, Jack took it. “Holy—! Your hands are so cold! Hiccup, he’s freezing over, we have to take him to the village!”

 She felt a hand cold like stone while Jack touched the warmth of her palm. Joy beyond the ability of words to describe washed Jack into a stupor. He couldn’t remember what it felt to touch another person. Were hands always this warm, he wondered. How much pressure should he give? Should he make his hand go limp? Regardless of the question, Jack’s body went limp on its own. Astrid didn’t realize she was the first human to touch Jack in countless years. Hiccup became the second.

 “Whoa you’re right! No wonder you’re so pale. Let’s take him to the workshop, Gobber’s furnace is hot enough to melt fire,” said Hiccup.

 “Can you stand?” Astrid inquired.

 Jack threw his arms around Astrid’s neck and pressed his cheek to hers like a kitten. His face was colder. Astrid was bewildered, turning to Hiccup but when he didn’t know what to do she patted his back to offer awkward support. The attention made her blush.

 “This is real. You can see me. I can feel,” Jack sobbed, feeling the tickle of Astrid’s long hair on his brow; she smelled like charcoal and violets.

 “What do you mean?” Hiccup asked.

 Jack jumped from Astrid to hug Hiccup. His cheeks were warmer and he smelled like sweat and dragon poop, a less pleasant aroma, but Jack didn’t care. Even with a girlfriend, Hiccup’s reactions to affection from an attractive source were poor. Jack felt his cheeks burn twice as hot.

“I’m sorry!” Jack apologized after realizing it but without letting go of Hiccup. “No one’s ever been able to see me like you. Please just a bit more.”

“No one could see you? And you’re cold. Are you actually a ghost?” Astrid asked believing it.

Jack finally let Hiccup go. The idea was absurd, but it was then that Jack found himself struggle for answers. “I don’t know.”

Gobber’s workshop was precariously in the middle of the village. It allowed for easy access to weapons and equipment during the time of random dragon attacks in the middle of the night. But on a calm night it sat with the furnace exhausted. Without anyone patrolling the village that night it was easy for Hiccup and Astrid to sneak a new person and start the fire to warm him up. Strangely, the furnace didn’t burn as bright. They wrapped Jack around a leather quilt they’d normally take pieces from for various leather needs, but that night it became a blanket. Hiccup lightly touched Jack’s cheek, recoiling because it was still cold. As they waited, Jack told them everything. As far back as he could remember when he was named by the Man on the Moon, North and Bunny, and where how many years had passed. When he was finished it was obvious they were skeptical.

Jack pointed the crooked end of his staff on the ground. An icicle formed and rose as he raised his hand. It was more than credible proof. Astrid and Hiccup were floored.

“Wow. That’s magic if I ever saw it. And I always thought magic was just one of Gobber’s stories,” said Hiccup, thoroughly impressed.

“It’s beautiful,” said Astrid which made Jack blush.

“Thanks. Being able to do this is the first thing I could remember. The Man on the Moon told me my name and then let me loose in the world; I had to find out things on my own. There are a few who can see me but people like you…don’t. The dragons can see me, but I can’t touch them.”

“So that’s what it was! Every time I saw Toothless react to something, was that you?” Hiccup asked.

“Yeah, sorry, I just can’t resist how great of a dragon Toothless is, and how great of a rider you are. I watch your rides all the time, it’s my favorite thing in the morning. I really like it when you use your wings too,” said Jack. Hiccup blushed, which Astrid caught and she giggled. “I watch you too, Astrid. I love when you ride on Stormfly’s tail.”

“Well at least we know he has taste,” Astrid gloated.

“So you’ve been here the whole time watching us. It kind of makes me feel a little guilty we didn’t see you,” said Hiccup.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. Besides, before today I was used to it, but now—! Look at me! I’m talking to my two favorite people on Berk! This is crazy!” Jack laughed. With his laughter the furnace flame were lowered.

Jack threw off his blanket and hopped around the tiny shop faster than a rabbit. The two riders were surprised by his agility and lack of restraint by gravity. His smile was bright with shimmering happiness. It was enough to lift Hiccup’s cheeks, but he found himself thinking elsewhere.

“Jack, it’s great we can see you now, but how can we see you now? If you couldn’t show yourself to us then what happened this time for things to be different? Was it that fire that did it?” He asked.

He finally stopped on top of the furnace. His bare feet barely felt the heat; Jack preferred himself to be up high instead on the ground.

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never seen a fire come a life, but I have seen a stone like that before. It was south…or was it east…wait, which one is the left direction? Whatever, it was in a land far from here and it had twelve big stone standing in a circle. I heard the locals saying they were magical but they were really boring.”

“Hmm, can’t sit still and gets easily bored, wonder who he reminds me of,” Astrid mocked. Hiccup ignored her.

“I’m not an expert on magic so I wouldn’t be able to say anything. But I say we shouldn’t look a gift dragon in the mouth. We can see you now, Jack, that’s all that matters,” smiled Hiccup.

“Thanks, Hiccup, it feels nice to be seen.”

“Hey, you said you could fly. We should totally have a race first thing tomorrow morning! I want to see what you got,” said Astrid.

“Now you’re talking my language! Me against you and Stormfly,” huffed Jack, confronting Astrid.

“Well this sounds like a recipe for disaster. Count me out,” said Hiccup.

“Party pooper. Where’s the Hiccup that took down a Red Death years ago? Maybe you’re hiding him under all that ‘muscle’,” Jack teased.

“Whoa, whoa, excuse me, what are you trying to say?” Hiccup asked.

“I see your extra padding on your arms and chest.”

Astrid chuckled, not picking a side.

The tools hanging from the ceiling rattled. A powerful rumble happened upon near them and a shadow walked around the tiny workshop. The three froze in place like statues, being caught off guard. It was Stoick, Berk’s chieftain and Hiccup’s father, that shook the ground with his very steps. The giant of a man had to duck under the doorway to get through.

“Hiccup? Astrid? What the blazes are you doing up at this hour?” He asked.

“It was by day to clean the stables and Astrid was with me,” said Hiccup, although he wondered why they were the people Stoick focused on first.

“Oh, good, Skullcrusher loves it when the stables are clean. Guess our night ride took longer than I thought, I was just about to head home. You’d better get some rest too, Hiccup, big day coming up, don’t want to fall asleep at the helm,” said Stoick.

“Wait, Dad, you’re okay with this?” Hiccup was nervous to ask, pointing to Jack who was silent.

Jack felt the authority the chief had over the entire island just by looks alone. He very rarely followed Stoick’s story. Even though before he knew he wouldn’t be seen, Jack was always afraid to be seen by the man who was rumored to have popped a dragon’s head off at birth. The fact that he rode a dragon only made him scarier to Jack.

“Okay with what, son? Oh! Never you mind that! You’re mother and I had midnight meetings when I was your age. Of course we chose better meeting places like behind the waterfall, oh and that time in the mountain, and that one time by the beach,” he listed without an end.

“Ew, Dad, not that. Don’t you see—?”

“Oh! Looks like Gobber finished buffing my sword and didn’t tell me. Probably asleep on the job like the last time, and the time before that, and…before that. Should probably talk to him about staying up late too.”

 Stoick went over the furnace. Jack didn’t notice he was crouched on top of a sword in a sheathe. He went to move aside when Stoick reached his hand straight through Jack’s feet to pick up the sword which too phased through the young man. Astrid, Hiccup, and especially Jack were in shock.

 “I’ll see you at home, Hiccup, just don’t get too crazy,” joked Stoick as he left.

 Astrid broke the shock by quickly grabbed Jack’s arm. She could still touch him and she very clearly saw him there—she saw the look of dismay in his eyes.

 “I don’t understand, my Dad couldn’t see you? What—?” Hiccup couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Jack panted heavily into his hands. He stumbled off the furnace and raced after Stoick.

“HEY! STOICK I’M RIGHT HERE!” Jack screamed.

 The chief kept walking without anything grabbing his ear.

 “I’M JACK FROST! I KNOW YOUR DRAGON IS SKULLCRUSHER! I KNOW YOU’RE THE BRAVEST CHIEF EVER!”

 Stoick unsheathed his sword to admire it. He couldn’t see much in the moonless night, but he pressed his thumb to the edge and flinched. It was as sharp as he liked it. He drifted away.

 Jack started to cry, squeezing his fists. He ran after him, tripping and dropping his staff in the process. Jack reached for the man in desperation.

 “I’M HERE!” Jack cried pounding the earth. Stoick was out of sight. “Please…don’t…go…”

 The tears falling from his cheeks frozen and shattered like glass on the earth. He felt an unimaginable pain twisting his stomach, endless that got worst once his mind pictured every time he tried to reach to someone and then being ignored. There were so many.

 Hiccup and Astrid were unsure what to do. What could they say? Everything about Jack was something they’d never experienced before. When they couldn’t think of words of comfort they were hesitant to take another step closer.

 The winds shrieked.

Hiccup and Astrid took both sides of Jack. They may not have known what to say to him but they both shared the same thought to console him. They wrapped their arms around the young man and held him. It only made Jack cry harder. He threw himself on Hiccup, and then Astrid pressed her face on Jack’s back.

Astrid couldn’t believe the pain in her stomach hearing Jack’s cries. It was enough to make her cry, something rare in the Viking warrior who prided herself on being tough. Before she knew it a tear escaped her eyes, and then cut her cheek. It turned to ice in a second. What’s more, Astrid could see her breath like a thick fog.

Meanwhile, Hiccup felt his body drop in temperature like a freefall. His fingers stiffened.

“Uh…Jack…” Hiccup stammered finding it awkward to point it out.

“Sorry, Hiccup,” said Jack, prying himself from the other young man, without realizing the cold himself.

“It’s not that. Look!” Hiccup pointed to the sky.

Scattered blotches of white, at first slowly, trickled down from the unusually darkened sky. The ends of Astrid’s hair were blown across her face. The cold winds were returning, and they were gaining speed. Hiccup was pelted on his head. A tiny rock fell from the sky and melted—hail. The village rooftops beat like hundreds of drums being struck by the zooming rocks. The three took shelter in the workshop. In mere minutes, snow rained, the hail fell without mercy, and the village vanished under the veil of snowfall and hail. The sleeping dragons innocently nesting on top of the houses were spooked into taking flight, either off the island or into the stables. It no time at all, the village bell was rung.

“BLIZZARD!” It was Stoick’s voice that thundered above the storm—he was the one sounding the alarm.

Door after door of Viking household burst open with a powerful warrior on the other side. They grabbed tarps and nailed down anything that would fly away. An onslaught of snow and hail did little to deter them from accepting the chieftain’s call. When dragons used to attack they’d spring into action equally fast.

“No it’s my turn to nail the bog pot!” Tuffnut shouted.

“We go by who was born first!” Ruffnut countered.

“So it’s my turn!” They both said at the same time. Hiccup wasn’t surprised he could hear them through the winds.

“Jack…” Hiccup inquired.

“It’s not me…I mean…this has never happened before. I don’t…maybe it is…but I don’t know,” Jack fumbled his words while his mind trailed off.

Gobber hopped to throw Stoick a big hammer. The chief pounded wooden stakes into the ground, tying down the ropes that held a huge lantern they used for the dragons. Old clumps of charcoal flew everywhere. It came time for Gobber to tie his own end, but the snow scratched his eyes.

“I can’t see!” The fat blacksmith shouted.

“I came to save the day!” None of them heard Snotlout shout obnoxiously.

He appeared riding on his dragon, Hookfang, a Monstrous Nightmare dragon. Being the center of attention interested Snotlout more than being helpful, and as a result he forgot one fact about his dragon. As he clicked his heels on Hookfang’s neck, the dragon’s entire body became coated in a blazing inferno that was meant to act as a beacon. However, Snotlout’s bottom was burned and he leapt off his dragon because his pants caught fire.

“GAH! WHY DO I ALWAYS FORGET THAT!?” Snotlout cried.

Every from as far back as the great hall to the stables could see Hookfang’s fire. For a moment. The storm grew once more, the increase in snowfall extinguished the dragon, and he sought warmth himself.

A roof was ripped off one house. The water in the village’s well had made its transition to become solid ice in an instant. And even the fiercest of the Vikings, Stoick, felt his beefy arms succumb to the cold.

“It’s getting crazy out there; this storm is out of control. Jack, could you do something about it?” Astrid asked.

“I don’t know, this has never happened before. Ugh! It feels—different from other times. I feel angry and scared and…sad. And my powers were working, I can feel it happening, but I don’t feel like I have control,” Jack explained.

“What if this is a new power? I mean if you think about it it’s something you’ve never seen before so of course you’re not going to know about it. Kind of like when Stormfly used that waterspout thing,” said Hiccup.

“I guess that makes sense, but how do we stop it?” Astrid argued.

“Let me try something,” said Jack.

He jumped out from the workshop, into the open. The cold, the wind, the snow and the hail, he was used to all of it from being in parts of the world where those were abundant, it didn’t disturb him in the slightest. He held his staff tight in one hand. The air was invested with frost; a deep breath tickled his nostrils with it. Jack felt he sensation of his powers fester in his stomach. Any other time using his powers came easier than breathing to him, but the situation called for him to be more mature in his approach. Jack slammed the end of his cane down. His hands glowed deep azure blue. His hair stood on end.

“Whoa he’s really something,,,amazing,” said Hiccup without realizing he did so. He clapped his hand over his mouth when Astrid stared back at him. “Uh…I didn’t mean to say that! It just slipped out! Not that I was thinking it!”

“Hiccup…how did you say the same thing I was thinking?” Astrid asked, being more astounded by that.

By a face full of red and a blank stare, they knew what the other was thinking because they were thinking it themselves. Surprise followed. So many questions zipped in their minds without them being able to answer any of them.

Jack stood planted for a while. The storm gained more momentum and without anything else that came to mind he continued doing what he had been doing.

“Hiccup! Astrid! What’re you doing!? Get out of there!” Stoick hollered.

An iron nail flew out of his hand and rolled away. He raced after it, unknowingly going through Jack to reach it. The chief didn’t see the young man.

Jack lurched forward, the pain in his stomach returned tenfold.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut settled on pinning down their precious family pot together when they were thrown to the ground. A hailstone the size of an apple knocked their heads together. The wind then scratched their skin with flakes of ice.

“RAH! I’M HURT! I AM VERY MUCH HURT!” They both wailed.

The Vikings were being attacked by a never ending barrage of ice. They withstood as much as they could up until that point, but the growth in hail and the ice chipping away at their skin proved to be their breaking point. Not to mention the winds grew so strong the tiles on their homes bombarded them next.

BAM! The statue outside the great hall fell over. The head of a great Viking from longs past was the next to wreak havoc, plowing everything in its destructive path. Fishlegs stumbled along said path. He had delivering leather tarps to anyone who swiped them out of his hands. The rampaging head missed a step and shook the ground with its landing. Fishlegs heard it coming then and screeched as he moved out of the way. But then he heard tiny screams above the roars.

 Children were in the boulder’s path, their house having been ripped almost entirely off the ground. Fishlegs ran as fast as tiny legs could take him. He threw himself on top of the children as a shield, and he braced himself for the impact.

 Jack put his concentration on hold. Swinging the staff like a sword, he threw a gust of wind that flung the rolling head off its current course. The children and Fishlegs were safe.

“Hiccup! Astrid! I can’t stop it!” Jack cried.

Eyes trained in hyper focus, Hiccup spotted new tears across Jack’s face. The pattern was slowly beginning to unravel. The storm appearing when Jack was distraught, the storm getting worse when Stoick passed through him again. It came to him!

“It’s his feelings. Astrid, its Jack’s feelings! This all start because he was sad and it got worse. His powers are reacting to his feelings,” Hiccup explained.

“Whoa, just like what happened when Gobber took away Grump’s sleep toy and he was belching fireballs the side of boulders.”

“Exactly. If we can calm Jack down maybe the storm will let up. I mean, it’s worth a try.”

Astrid was willing to try, but there had been hesitation to reach Jack before and it was still there then. “But what are we supposed to say to make this better? Nobody but us sees him. He’s been lonely for a long time. I can’t imagine what that must feel like.”

It was a heavy sigh Hiccup said, “I can.”

The storm had transformed into an unimaginable degree. The Vikings switched from nailing things down to having their arms full of their belongings to keep them from soaring away into oblivion.  Jack’s next step on his mad dash to the workshop didn’t touch the ground. Fast like a fish caught in an eagle’s talon he was swooped off the ground. He waved his hands, thrust his chest forward, whatever he’d used to do to get down from a pesky air current, but the ground drifted further and further away, slowly but indefinitely.

“Oh come on, what else?!” Jack griped to himself.

“He did say he could fly, right?” Hiccup asked.

“Something’s wrong,” Astrid concluded.

Astrid snatched a line of rope under the workshop counter and raced headfirst into the storm. Hiccup followed. The torrent frightened away the Viking that nailed the giant lantern down. One swish of her ax, Astrid severed the bottom of the rope and was flung into the air by the weight of the structure tipping to one side. She whistled. The wind swept her up as well so she had plenty of time while she was waiting. Stormfly, Astrid’s Deadly Nadder, answered her call, catching her with the saddle.

“YA!” Astrid cracked her dragon’s whips.

Undoubtedly even the most skilled dragon rider on Berk would think twice about flying in such a storm. Astrid and Stormfly were braver than most riders. The winds were powerful but so were the wings of Deadly Nadder. The pair sailed across the blinding storm like a paper crane with Astrid only able to see a silhouette in the air—there wasn’t anyone else being tossed around in the air besides Jack. Stormfly wouldn’t be able to touch Jack, but Astrid found a solution. She slide down the scaly skin and clung to her dragon’s talons.  

“Over there, girl!” Astrid commanded.

The dragon saw the floating young man and knew at once she was meant to lift her rider up so she could catch him. Astrid hung from her feet next, stretching out her hands, upside down. She grabbed Jack’s hands as Stormfly zoomed away from the epicenter of the storm.

“So what’s better: me riding on Stormfly’s tail or me hanging from Stormfly’s talons, upside down, while I say a damsel in distress?” She joked.

Before that day, Jack had never been seen let alone rescued from the air. He couldn’t help by be enamored by Astrid as she held him.

“Don’t joke, between the two of us I have all the damsel,” Jack found time to joke back.

“You know I could always drop you.” Astrid laughed. Her laugh was gorgeous, something that Jack was quick to notice. He finally smiled.

Watching Astrid fly would always send chills down Hiccup’s spine. He could seldom feel the chill from the actual storm then. A hailstone knocked his daydreaming out, but he felt a softer impact. The ice clods had become snowballs then. It was working.

“Stormfly, fly around and make sure no one else is flying,” said Astrid once the dragon let her and Jack down. Her dragon understood and flew on her way.

Once again the three took shelter in the workshop. It was fortunate Gobber was an excellent carpenter in addition to being a blacksmith or else the tiny building would be miles away from Berk by then. Hiccup nailed the last remaining shred of leather to cover the openings. Though the hail was light the winds were no less raspy with their wails.

“I couldn’t stop it, Hiccup, I tried. I don’t get it, I did everything I usually do. This whole thing doesn’t make sense,” Jack lamented.

“Hiccup thinks its more complicated than that, Jack,” said Astrid.

“The storm is reacting to your feelings. When you felt sad about being ignored the storm started and got worse. But now look! The hail’s soft now, it’s getting better,” Hiccup smiled. Jack didn’t return his smile.

“So it is my fault.” Jack dropped his face into his hands. It was the reaction Hiccup wanted to avoid.

Hiccup sat next to Jack. “Were you here when dragons still attacked the village?”

 “Yeah?” Jack was confused by the sudden question.

 “So you saw how people used to look at me as. They saw me as a screw-up and when they weren’t doing that, they didn’t see me at all. I know it can hurt a lot, doesn’t it?”

 “Like everyone is passing you by while you’re watching them. They move on—”

 “And you’re stuck standing there,” Hiccup finished Jack’s thought.

Jack’s fingers trembled from the swelling in his stomach. Astrid held his hands, they were colder than before.

“I don’t know what it feels like to be complete invisible to people but I know how loneliness can feel. So I thought killing a dragon would get me noticed, but really I just wanted people to accept me. And then I met Toothless and suddenly things changed. Toothless and I understood each other more than anyone else on Berk. He made me feel seen. If you told me then that I, a Viking, would be friends with a dragon I’d call you crazy, it seemed impossible, but it happened. Sort of like when you met us.”

Hiccup rested his hand on top of Astrid’s on top of Jack’s.

“We see you now, Jack. You don’t have to feel alone anymore,” Astrid added.

“You’re our friend now. Right?” Hiccup didn’t want to assume it right away.

Astrid felt her palm heat up. Jack was crying except a timid smile breaking the ice on his face. She and Hiccup hugged him. The young man did felt hold but it was pleasant like a cold drink. Jack joyfully received their hug, and the two knew it was also his way of accepting them as his friends. The tear on his face didn’t turn to ice.

 Outside the storm stopped almost right away, unnaturally of course. The Vikings came out of their place of hiding to prepare in case of another wave of frost, without knowing there wouldn’t be any.

 Meanwhile, the three basked in the warmth a tiny workshop brought.

 The night of the vanishing storm would go on the Viking history book as the strangest night to ever befall the island. It appeared and left in an instant. Then the skies became so clear it was unimaginable there was even a storm to begin with. Not a single star was obstructed. In the midst waiting for the second wind to strike the Viking were left bewildered when nothing happened. Hours went by and they finally came out from cover. When morning came the hail and snow melted quickly. However, the damage did not vanish as fast. The storm had crumbled almost every house to splinters. The winds blew Ruffnut and Tuffnut’s many adornments to the middle of the forest. The dragon stables were nearly knocked into the sea. And of course the statue outside the great hall was missing a head.

 Already tired and irritated, the Vikings got to work repairing everything at the first sign of daybreak. They worked with sour faces. Dragons needed to be caroled, sheep needed to be calmed, again, buildings needed to be repaired. It wouldn’t be done in two days time. The championship match had to be postponed for at least a week, maybe more. It was an unspoken fact that the Vikings took with a grain of salt. Still, everyone pitched in to do their own share.

 Jack watched from his cave, vexed with his lack of things to do. A Terrible Terror slept beside him. Hiccup and Astrid were down helping with the repairs and checking off what was and what wasn’t flown away by the storm. It was busy work for the both of them. Jack tracked Hiccup and Astrid, having a vantage point to see them both.

 Hiccup carried a notepad and marked whatever Gobber pointed to. After the seventh mark for the unchanged number of sheep, Hiccup waved his fingers to the mountain where he knew only Jack would see it.

 Astrid flew with Stormfly to deliver lumber from the forest. It was the dragon’s job to cut down trees. Such a task would be better suited for a Timberjack, but Stormfly’s skill at deforestation was no less excellent. The two flew around the rim of the mountain for another round of lumber when she gave a more energetic wave to Jack who waved back.

 Into the low hours of afternoon the Vikings took a break. Dinner was one meal those in Berk would never skip. Every hammer was dropped and a feast was served. Sour faces were sweetened by a hearty meal, and merriment rung inside the great hall. Jack could smell roasted chicken and the guffaw could be hear from the other side of the mountain. He wanted to watch the merriment, but he couldn’t join them.

 Astrid managed to pull Hiccup away from the party. It wasn’t easy, especially with a plate of food. They climbed to the top of the great hall and signaled for Jack. He leaped off the mile high cave. The two riders flinched, for a moment it looked like their friend was freefalling, but a friendly breeze caught him before he touched the ground.

 “We brought you some food, you know, in case you were hungry, in case you can actually eat it,” Hiccup presented the plate of a roasted chicken leg, corn and a cooked potato.

 Jack touched the chicken leg but it only reacted weakly to his touch as thought he pushed it with a feather.

 “Thanks, but as far as I know I don’t need to eat anyway. North and Bunny can eat, but what they have going on is way more confusing,” said Jack.

 They sat on the edge of the roof. On a day after a snowstorm the snow sparkled like diamonds beneath the sun which always seemed brighter. The air was crisp. They watched the ice break away from the bigger cluster only to be shattered when the waves brought them to shore.

 “I’m sorry I can’t do anything to help, guys,” said Jack, “even though I caused it.”

 “As far as my dad knows: it was a random snowstorm. No one was hurt and it’ll take a week at best to get everything back to normal,” said Hiccup, optimistic.

 “Oh I know it’ll take you guys no time to get all this rebuilt. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

 “We will need cold drinks for the work tomorrow so stick around a bit,” Astrid joked.

 Jack clutched his staff and his fist tight. Tiny squares of ice fell between his fingers. Astrid was impressed if not surprised her joke turned out to be a good idea.

 “I found Berk by accident. One day I found a weird gust of wind so I decided to take it, see where it’d take me, and that’s when I saw Berk. It’s always cold here, there was a good cave, and there was always something interesting happening. And you know, it felt right staying here. I think Berk was always meant to be my home.”

 “It could be better if you decided to stay with me. I’m sure Dad won’t mind another tenant,” said Hiccup.

 “Thanks, Hiccup, but I’m fine where I’m sat, and I want to avoid being reminded I’m not really here. You probably don’t want another snowstorm.”

 Hiccup and Astrid nodded, reiterating the agreement they finalized. They had been talking a lot about it during the party, a serious discussion held around people whose inside voice was rowdy. The agreement was done between two who trusted each other more than anyone else. They took Jack’s hands, holding them with an extra soft touch.

 “We see you, Jack,” said Astrid. “Sure it wasn’t the most ideal meeting, but we’re glad we finally got to meet you.”

 “This is normally not my thing, but I’ll make an exception for you. That is if it doesn’t feel weird,” Hiccup awkwardly muttered, his cheeks flushed.

 They moved in closer. Jack was sandwiched by their shoulders pressing against his. Slowly, their faces leaned in closer to his. Confusion struck the young man. They tightened their hold on his hands. Jack was overwhelmed as though he was trapped. He saw a way to get free but he didn’t want to get free. Their breaths brushed his cheek, they were really warm. Jack turned to stone. Only when their lips were inches from touching his cheeks did he realize what was happening, not that it did him any good knowing for it only made his mind give out harder. It was too much. Jack couldn’t be more elated, without knowing he would never feel their kiss.

 The great hall rattled, Astrid and Hiccup were jostled. Flakes of clay tiles hit their faces. The merriment down below stopped flat. Something had landed on the great hall to deliver the silence—something big. A mud-colored tail cracked the roof with a powerful strike. A dragon no one had ever seen before eyed Astrid, Hiccup and Jack with immovable silver eyes. Its single roar, powerful as it was frightening, shook Berk with dread.

[cynthiajayusa]

The Tasty Star of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’ Talks Fluid Sexuality

Antoni Porowski is known for his avocados. But on a recent afternoon he was contemplating the coconut, mapping every sultry detail of the tropical fruit as if it were the body of a new lover: the fleshy inside, the milky nectar.

It’s the first day of June when the Polish-Canadian wine-and-dine expert on Netflix’s Queer Eye reboot rings and, oh right, we’re talking about food. But gay America isn’t hungry: It’s thirsty AF.

And because real lives are being changed thanks to Porowski, designer Bobby Berk, culture advisor Karamo Brown, stylist Tan France, and groomer Jonathan Van Ness, it is also joyfully crying.

Season 2 of Queer Eye — note the dropped qualifier, a nod to the show’s new inclusivity — doesn’t skimp on opportunities for you to feel good about this otherwise not-good world, as the Fab Five imparts their best-life insight and general gay wisdom to a diverse group of clients, including the franchise’s first woman and transgender man.

As Porowski continues to process the experience, and the attendant upswing in gay male thirst and avocado sex puns, the 34-year-old subject of culinary controversy talked critics and why variety truly is the spice of life.

In the new promo video for the show, with Betty Who singing the theme, you’re cradling avocados and wearing a crop top. The avocado dick puns have been out in full force.

I guess I asked for it, right? I’m literally wearing a crop top and unsuccessfully trying to juggle avocados, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATCH:

I must say, I do hope the crop top becomes your signature look in the third season.

[Laughs.] Thanks! I do have to give credit where it’s due, and that was 100 percent Tan France.

When it comes to you, the thirst is real. What is that kind of attention like from the gay community?

I do maintain a certain amount of ignorance to it — and a kind of detachment. There’s been a lot of really amazing and positive attention from the show. But with that, there’s also gonna be haters. If I’m gonna take the good, I have to take the bad, so I’ve decided to take neither.

I just try to focus on what my next move is with this show, with press that we’re working on, living out of hotels for the past couple of months, and hoping that people really enjoy [this season] as much as they did the first.

When you’re living out of hotels, how do you maintain a healthy diet?

I don’t! That’s the honest truth. I’m not one to deny myself the pleasures of, like, a good ripe stinky cheese on a crusty slice of fresh-baked bread in Paris.

Oh, I’ve seen you indulge on the show.

It happens.

You’re not afraid of some macaroni salad.

There ya go! Well, but that wasn’t my recipe.

It wasn’t, but you still ate it.

Oh, I ate it. I’ll try anything twice.

Are you still trying to wrap your head around your overnight fame?

Yeah. I mean, it certainly hits in waves. We were just in London, and when you experience people who’ve been waiting outside of your hotel with magazines to sign, it’s kind of like, “Wow, you’re a human with a life and a job, presumably, who wanted to wait to have a moment.” I’m grateful for it, but it’s not something I want to be too comfortable with. It’s very bizarre and very overwhelming.

What my therapist tells me is, “Don’t trust your feelings right now because you’re constantly basically running on adrenaline — your life right now is pure adrenaline.” It’s been like overdrive, so it’s just, take everything very lightly.

What are your gay fan interactions outside of hotels like?

I feel like I’m pretty good at reading people, but with fans, the energy and the direction of it is very different. So my thing is: Ask them a question about themselves, try to make this a human interaction, and try to normalize it, just to make sure that the person has a nice, meaningful experience and they can leave happy.

[But] sometimes I’m left, like, taking care of people. They’ll come up, and their mouths open and they don’t say anything. I have to kind of take care of them and be like, “Are you OK? It’s fine. Here, do you want a hug? Do you want a photo?”

You don’t just go right in for the hug?

No, I’m a little — yeah, I have more of a European sensibility. We like to kiss twice. Or, I don’t know, healthy boundaries?

Kiss twice, though? Everyone must just enjoy meeting you.

[Laughs.]

How has helping other people on this show changed your approach to your own life?

I’ve had many passions: I studied psychology; I worked as a gallery director; I photographed vintage furniture. And on the acting side of things, that was something that was always very ego[-driven]. I wanted people to look and see and feel my presence, whereas with the show, it actually isn’t that at all. The energy is directed in the other direction, so it’s really us being of service to this person that we’re helping.

We see that happen in the first episode of Season 2, with Mama Tammye

Mama Tammye is an example who spun it on us, and doesn’t even take care of herself and shows up as a teacher and as a member of her church, and for the five of us.

You cried at the end of that episode. Of the Fab Five, who cries the most?

You’re talking to him! When you hear somebody’s struggle, or especially when they’ve overcome something or made a choice like Tammye — there was a lot of pain and a lot of fear and borderline hateful feelings toward gays, and she realized that it was her perspective that was wrong, and she’s a beacon of hope for people.

It’s possible at any age. If you have people like Tammye who were able to figure it out, there’s no excuse for the rest of us.

Even though you’ve been with men and women, you’ve said that you don’t like to call yourself bisexual. Have you found the best way to explain your sexual orientation to people yet?

Not really. And it’s not something I feel too pressured to figure out.

I have very strong opinions about how to cook a filet of salmon so the skin remains crispy and doesn’t stick to the pan, but with a lot of things, I don’t like being the expert. I’d rather go in and be like, “I don’t know.” There’s a power in that for me. It’s sort of like going in with humility and saying, “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

While I don’t think I’m trying to figure out my sexuality, I’m just not as concerned with it anymore. It’s this dynamic process. I’d just rather keep it open and fluid, because that’s how I am with the books that I read, the music that I listen to. All of my interests are always changing, and it’s a constant dynamic process, and so is my sexuality.

Is today June 1?

Today is June 1.

It has me thinking about Pride and what Pride means: the ability to be the truest version of yourself without any negative consequence or fear of being persecuted or judged or criticized or hurt for it. And whatever that is for a person, however you define yourself or don’t define yourself, you should be able to do that with total freedom.

I read that you were a private chef for some high-profile clients.

It was something that kind of happened accidentally, cooking for people. I’m not a classically trained chef, where I’m in a kitchen and I’m doing my own thing; I’m an entertainer, that’s who I am. And I love food, and I love playing with it, and I love preparing it for people. It’s how I show my love.

It wasn’t an everyday thing, where I showed up and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for someone. I’ve always had, like, 10 different things going on at the same time.

If you could cook for any celebrity, who would it be and what would you cook?

Dead or alive?

They can be dead.

I would take something off of the menu at Voltaire in Paris, and I would prepare it for Oscar Wilde. I would slap my copy of De Profundis in front of him and be like, “We’re gonna talk about this for five hours, and I’m gonna feed your belly, and I’m gonna get you drunk, and you’re just gonna tell me everything and answer all of my questions.”

You’re on a desert island and you have to survive on just one food: What is it?

I love a fresh coconut. You crack it and you have the milk, which is so delicious, but the flesh too. There’s that creamy part on the inside that you can scoop with a spoon, and then there’s the really hard shell part that, if you roast it with sugar, it gets caramelized and really nice and crunchy.

So, I think coconuts. I’d get fed up with them after a week, but I don’t know what food I wouldn’t get fed up about, truly. Ask me again tomorrow.

I’ve never thought about the flesh of a coconut until now, and it sounds weirdly sexy.

[Laughs.] Oh, think about it. Go buy a fresh coconut and think of me.

WATCH:

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/06/28/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye-talks-fluid-sexuality/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2018/06/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye.html

[demitgibbs]

The Tasty Star of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’ Talks Fluid Sexuality

Antoni Porowski is known for his avocados. But on a recent afternoon he was contemplating the coconut, mapping every sultry detail of the tropical fruit as if it were the body of a new lover: the fleshy inside, the milky nectar.

It’s the first day of June when the Polish-Canadian wine-and-dine expert on Netflix’s Queer Eye reboot rings and, oh right, we’re talking about food. But gay America isn’t hungry: It’s thirsty AF.

And because real lives are being changed thanks to Porowski, designer Bobby Berk, culture advisor Karamo Brown, stylist Tan France, and groomer Jonathan Van Ness, it is also joyfully crying.

Season 2 of Queer Eye — note the dropped qualifier, a nod to the show’s new inclusivity — doesn’t skimp on opportunities for you to feel good about this otherwise not-good world, as the Fab Five imparts their best-life insight and general gay wisdom to a diverse group of clients, including the franchise’s first woman and transgender man.

As Porowski continues to process the experience, and the attendant upswing in gay male thirst and avocado sex puns, the 34-year-old subject of culinary controversy talked critics and why variety truly is the spice of life.

In the new promo video for the show, with Betty Who singing the theme, you’re cradling avocados and wearing a crop top. The avocado dick puns have been out in full force.

I guess I asked for it, right? I’m literally wearing a crop top and unsuccessfully trying to juggle avocados, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATCH:

I must say, I do hope the crop top becomes your signature look in the third season.

[Laughs.] Thanks! I do have to give credit where it’s due, and that was 100 percent Tan France.

When it comes to you, the thirst is real. What is that kind of attention like from the gay community?

I do maintain a certain amount of ignorance to it — and a kind of detachment. There’s been a lot of really amazing and positive attention from the show. But with that, there’s also gonna be haters. If I’m gonna take the good, I have to take the bad, so I’ve decided to take neither.

I just try to focus on what my next move is with this show, with press that we’re working on, living out of hotels for the past couple of months, and hoping that people really enjoy [this season] as much as they did the first.

When you’re living out of hotels, how do you maintain a healthy diet?

I don’t! That’s the honest truth. I’m not one to deny myself the pleasures of, like, a good ripe stinky cheese on a crusty slice of fresh-baked bread in Paris.

Oh, I’ve seen you indulge on the show.

It happens.

You’re not afraid of some macaroni salad.

There ya go! Well, but that wasn’t my recipe.

It wasn’t, but you still ate it.

Oh, I ate it. I’ll try anything twice.

Are you still trying to wrap your head around your overnight fame?

Yeah. I mean, it certainly hits in waves. We were just in London, and when you experience people who’ve been waiting outside of your hotel with magazines to sign, it’s kind of like, “Wow, you’re a human with a life and a job, presumably, who wanted to wait to have a moment.” I’m grateful for it, but it’s not something I want to be too comfortable with. It’s very bizarre and very overwhelming.

What my therapist tells me is, “Don’t trust your feelings right now because you’re constantly basically running on adrenaline — your life right now is pure adrenaline.” It’s been like overdrive, so it’s just, take everything very lightly.

What are your gay fan interactions outside of hotels like?

I feel like I’m pretty good at reading people, but with fans, the energy and the direction of it is very different. So my thing is: Ask them a question about themselves, try to make this a human interaction, and try to normalize it, just to make sure that the person has a nice, meaningful experience and they can leave happy.

[But] sometimes I’m left, like, taking care of people. They’ll come up, and their mouths open and they don’t say anything. I have to kind of take care of them and be like, “Are you OK? It’s fine. Here, do you want a hug? Do you want a photo?”

You don’t just go right in for the hug?

No, I’m a little — yeah, I have more of a European sensibility. We like to kiss twice. Or, I don’t know, healthy boundaries?

Kiss twice, though? Everyone must just enjoy meeting you.

[Laughs.]

How has helping other people on this show changed your approach to your own life?

I’ve had many passions: I studied psychology; I worked as a gallery director; I photographed vintage furniture. And on the acting side of things, that was something that was always very ego[-driven]. I wanted people to look and see and feel my presence, whereas with the show, it actually isn’t that at all. The energy is directed in the other direction, so it’s really us being of service to this person that we’re helping.

We see that happen in the first episode of Season 2, with Mama Tammye

Mama Tammye is an example who spun it on us, and doesn’t even take care of herself and shows up as a teacher and as a member of her church, and for the five of us.

You cried at the end of that episode. Of the Fab Five, who cries the most?

You’re talking to him! When you hear somebody’s struggle, or especially when they’ve overcome something or made a choice like Tammye — there was a lot of pain and a lot of fear and borderline hateful feelings toward gays, and she realized that it was her perspective that was wrong, and she’s a beacon of hope for people.

It’s possible at any age. If you have people like Tammye who were able to figure it out, there’s no excuse for the rest of us.

Even though you’ve been with men and women, you’ve said that you don’t like to call yourself bisexual. Have you found the best way to explain your sexual orientation to people yet?

Not really. And it’s not something I feel too pressured to figure out.

I have very strong opinions about how to cook a filet of salmon so the skin remains crispy and doesn’t stick to the pan, but with a lot of things, I don’t like being the expert. I’d rather go in and be like, “I don’t know.” There’s a power in that for me. It’s sort of like going in with humility and saying, “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

While I don’t think I’m trying to figure out my sexuality, I’m just not as concerned with it anymore. It’s this dynamic process. I’d just rather keep it open and fluid, because that’s how I am with the books that I read, the music that I listen to. All of my interests are always changing, and it’s a constant dynamic process, and so is my sexuality.

Is today June 1?

Today is June 1.

It has me thinking about Pride and what Pride means: the ability to be the truest version of yourself without any negative consequence or fear of being persecuted or judged or criticized or hurt for it. And whatever that is for a person, however you define yourself or don’t define yourself, you should be able to do that with total freedom.

I read that you were a private chef for some high-profile clients.

It was something that kind of happened accidentally, cooking for people. I’m not a classically trained chef, where I’m in a kitchen and I’m doing my own thing; I’m an entertainer, that’s who I am. And I love food, and I love playing with it, and I love preparing it for people. It’s how I show my love.

It wasn’t an everyday thing, where I showed up and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for someone. I’ve always had, like, 10 different things going on at the same time.

If you could cook for any celebrity, who would it be and what would you cook?

Dead or alive?

They can be dead.

I would take something off of the menu at Voltaire in Paris, and I would prepare it for Oscar Wilde. I would slap my copy of De Profundis in front of him and be like, “We’re gonna talk about this for five hours, and I’m gonna feed your belly, and I’m gonna get you drunk, and you’re just gonna tell me everything and answer all of my questions.”

You’re on a desert island and you have to survive on just one food: What is it?

I love a fresh coconut. You crack it and you have the milk, which is so delicious, but the flesh too. There’s that creamy part on the inside that you can scoop with a spoon, and then there’s the really hard shell part that, if you roast it with sugar, it gets caramelized and really nice and crunchy.

So, I think coconuts. I’d get fed up with them after a week, but I don’t know what food I wouldn’t get fed up about, truly. Ask me again tomorrow.

I’ve never thought about the flesh of a coconut until now, and it sounds weirdly sexy.

[Laughs.] Oh, think about it. Go buy a fresh coconut and think of me.

WATCH:

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/06/28/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye-talks-fluid-sexuality/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/175340031015

[hotspotsmagazine]

The Tasty Star of Netflix’s ‘Queer Eye’ Talks Fluid Sexuality

Antoni Porowski is known for his avocados. But on a recent afternoon he was contemplating the coconut, mapping every sultry detail of the tropical fruit as if it were the body of a new lover: the fleshy inside, the milky nectar.

It’s the first day of June when the Polish-Canadian wine-and-dine expert on Netflix’s Queer Eye reboot rings and, oh right, we’re talking about food. But gay America isn’t hungry: It’s thirsty AF.

And because real lives are being changed thanks to Porowski, designer Bobby Berk, culture advisor Karamo Brown, stylist Tan France, and groomer Jonathan Van Ness, it is also joyfully crying.

Season 2 of Queer Eye — note the dropped qualifier, a nod to the show’s new inclusivity — doesn’t skimp on opportunities for you to feel good about this otherwise not-good world, as the Fab Five imparts their best-life insight and general gay wisdom to a diverse group of clients, including the franchise’s first woman and transgender man.

As Porowski continues to process the experience, and the attendant upswing in gay male thirst and avocado sex puns, the 34-year-old subject of culinary controversy talked critics and why variety truly is the spice of life.

In the new promo video for the show, with Betty Who singing the theme, you’re cradling avocados and wearing a crop top. The avocado dick puns have been out in full force.

I guess I asked for it, right? I’m literally wearing a crop top and unsuccessfully trying to juggle avocados, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATCH:

I must say, I do hope the crop top becomes your signature look in the third season.

[Laughs.] Thanks! I do have to give credit where it’s due, and that was 100 percent Tan France.

When it comes to you, the thirst is real. What is that kind of attention like from the gay community?

I do maintain a certain amount of ignorance to it — and a kind of detachment. There’s been a lot of really amazing and positive attention from the show. But with that, there’s also gonna be haters. If I’m gonna take the good, I have to take the bad, so I’ve decided to take neither.

I just try to focus on what my next move is with this show, with press that we’re working on, living out of hotels for the past couple of months, and hoping that people really enjoy [this season] as much as they did the first.

When you’re living out of hotels, how do you maintain a healthy diet?

I don’t! That’s the honest truth. I’m not one to deny myself the pleasures of, like, a good ripe stinky cheese on a crusty slice of fresh-baked bread in Paris.

Oh, I’ve seen you indulge on the show.

It happens.

You’re not afraid of some macaroni salad.

There ya go! Well, but that wasn’t my recipe.

It wasn’t, but you still ate it.

Oh, I ate it. I’ll try anything twice.

Are you still trying to wrap your head around your overnight fame?

Yeah. I mean, it certainly hits in waves. We were just in London, and when you experience people who’ve been waiting outside of your hotel with magazines to sign, it’s kind of like, “Wow, you’re a human with a life and a job, presumably, who wanted to wait to have a moment.” I’m grateful for it, but it’s not something I want to be too comfortable with. It’s very bizarre and very overwhelming.

What my therapist tells me is, “Don’t trust your feelings right now because you’re constantly basically running on adrenaline — your life right now is pure adrenaline.” It’s been like overdrive, so it’s just, take everything very lightly.

What are your gay fan interactions outside of hotels like?

I feel like I’m pretty good at reading people, but with fans, the energy and the direction of it is very different. So my thing is: Ask them a question about themselves, try to make this a human interaction, and try to normalize it, just to make sure that the person has a nice, meaningful experience and they can leave happy.

[But] sometimes I’m left, like, taking care of people. They’ll come up, and their mouths open and they don’t say anything. I have to kind of take care of them and be like, “Are you OK? It’s fine. Here, do you want a hug? Do you want a photo?”

You don’t just go right in for the hug?

No, I’m a little — yeah, I have more of a European sensibility. We like to kiss twice. Or, I don’t know, healthy boundaries?

Kiss twice, though? Everyone must just enjoy meeting you.

[Laughs.]

How has helping other people on this show changed your approach to your own life?

I’ve had many passions: I studied psychology; I worked as a gallery director; I photographed vintage furniture. And on the acting side of things, that was something that was always very ego[-driven]. I wanted people to look and see and feel my presence, whereas with the show, it actually isn’t that at all. The energy is directed in the other direction, so it’s really us being of service to this person that we’re helping.

We see that happen in the first episode of Season 2, with Mama Tammye

Mama Tammye is an example who spun it on us, and doesn’t even take care of herself and shows up as a teacher and as a member of her church, and for the five of us.

You cried at the end of that episode. Of the Fab Five, who cries the most?

You’re talking to him! When you hear somebody’s struggle, or especially when they’ve overcome something or made a choice like Tammye — there was a lot of pain and a lot of fear and borderline hateful feelings toward gays, and she realized that it was her perspective that was wrong, and she’s a beacon of hope for people.

It’s possible at any age. If you have people like Tammye who were able to figure it out, there’s no excuse for the rest of us.

Even though you’ve been with men and women, you’ve said that you don’t like to call yourself bisexual. Have you found the best way to explain your sexual orientation to people yet?

Not really. And it’s not something I feel too pressured to figure out.

I have very strong opinions about how to cook a filet of salmon so the skin remains crispy and doesn’t stick to the pan, but with a lot of things, I don’t like being the expert. I’d rather go in and be like, “I don’t know.” There’s a power in that for me. It’s sort of like going in with humility and saying, “I’m still trying to figure it out.”

While I don’t think I’m trying to figure out my sexuality, I’m just not as concerned with it anymore. It’s this dynamic process. I’d just rather keep it open and fluid, because that’s how I am with the books that I read, the music that I listen to. All of my interests are always changing, and it’s a constant dynamic process, and so is my sexuality.

Is today June 1?

Today is June 1.

It has me thinking about Pride and what Pride means: the ability to be the truest version of yourself without any negative consequence or fear of being persecuted or judged or criticized or hurt for it. And whatever that is for a person, however you define yourself or don’t define yourself, you should be able to do that with total freedom.

I read that you were a private chef for some high-profile clients.

It was something that kind of happened accidentally, cooking for people. I’m not a classically trained chef, where I’m in a kitchen and I’m doing my own thing; I’m an entertainer, that’s who I am. And I love food, and I love playing with it, and I love preparing it for people. It’s how I show my love.

It wasn’t an everyday thing, where I showed up and made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for someone. I’ve always had, like, 10 different things going on at the same time.

If you could cook for any celebrity, who would it be and what would you cook?

Dead or alive?

They can be dead.

I would take something off of the menu at Voltaire in Paris, and I would prepare it for Oscar Wilde. I would slap my copy of De Profundis in front of him and be like, “We’re gonna talk about this for five hours, and I’m gonna feed your belly, and I’m gonna get you drunk, and you’re just gonna tell me everything and answer all of my questions.”

You’re on a desert island and you have to survive on just one food: What is it?

I love a fresh coconut. You crack it and you have the milk, which is so delicious, but the flesh too. There’s that creamy part on the inside that you can scoop with a spoon, and then there’s the really hard shell part that, if you roast it with sugar, it gets caramelized and really nice and crunchy.

So, I think coconuts. I’d get fed up with them after a week, but I don’t know what food I wouldn’t get fed up about, truly. Ask me again tomorrow.

I’ve never thought about the flesh of a coconut until now, and it sounds weirdly sexy.

[Laughs.] Oh, think about it. Go buy a fresh coconut and think of me.

WATCH:

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/06/28/the-tasty-star-of-netflixs-queer-eye-talks-fluid-sexuality/

[holding93]

I’m confused.  Among all the choices, versions and variants out there in car land, there are no less than 3 vehicles available for sale today called GTR.  There’s the obvious, the Nissan GT-R.  The new contender, the Mercedes Benz AMG GT R.  There’s the recent, sold out but totally still on our minds McLaren P1 GTR.  The recently renamed Ultima GTR – which is now called the Evolution.  Then there’s the pantheon of great GTRs, the CLK GTR, the McLaren F1 GTR, the BMW M3 GTR and Holden Torana GTR.

The question is – why so many GTRs?

The Meaning of GTR

The GT badge can be traced back as far as 1929 to the Alfa Romeo 6C 1750 GT.  Later, in 1951 and the Lancia Aurelia B20 GT, with its more powerful engine and elegant 2 door Ghia-designed, Pininfarina built body was when ‘Gran Turismo’ would start to earn its definition.  1950s Grand Touring was about motoring with exceptional comfort, effortless speed and supreme style.  This association with wealth, speed and style was like catnip to marketing people and the GT designation has since graced everything all the way down to humble hatchbacks with nothing more to note than a sporty pinstripe.

The Bentley Continental GT and the Aston Martin DB11 are possibly the closest modern examples of a true ‘GT’ car, however you can also buy a Kia c’eed that wears the same letters.

Adding suffixes to extend the meaning of GT further diluted the comfort and style side of the balance.  GTO (Omologata) for homologation special, GTA (Alleggerita) for lightened version, GTV (Veloce) for a fast version, GTI (Injection), GTX (eXtreme) and many more.  The R in GTR stands for Racing.  They all have a theme – high performance.

The Inconsistent GT Suffix

With the exception of obscure sports car maker Ultima, the car companies who have used the GTR name seem to have a very love/hate relationship with it. The designation has always been used very sporadically.

McLaren has it reserved for the racing/track version of the pinnacle of their range, so after using it from 1995 to 1997, it wasn’t dusted off again for 18 years and the P1 GTR in 2015.

Mercedes dabbled with the GTR name on the 1997 CLK GTR GT1 race car.  The GTR only ran for the 1997 season plus two races in the 1998 season before it was replaced by the upgraded CLK LM.  The 25 road cars built in 1998 and 1999 would also carry the CLK GTR name.  The badge would stay in hiatus for 18 years until 2017, when AMG would again use it on the hardcore version of the GT coupe the GT R.

Similarly, BMW was to use the GTR name on the racing versions of the E36 and E46 M3s.  Built to maximise the GT series rules at the time, 10 E46 road cars were offered for sale after Porsche complained that the M3 had not met with series homologation rules.  Only 6 were built, none of which were sold to the public funnily enough.  The name has stayed on ice ever since.

It’s like this all through the history of GTR.  The Ford Mustang GT-R was a one-off concept.  The Holden Torana GTR was only around for the LC and LJ models between 1969 and 1974 and never revived.  Porsche called the racing version of the 924 the GTR and we all know how long that lasted.

Even Nissan, the most consistent user of the badge in recent memory has been very on and off.  After the ‘Kenmeri’ Skyline GT-R was killed off in the midst of the oil crisis in 1973 it would be 16 years before the R32 Skyline GT-R would revive the nameplate in 1989.  The GT-R was killed off again when the last R34s rolled down the line in 2002.  The R35 only came along 5 years later in 2007.

GT-R at Les Combes, Spa Francorchamps

The Original GTR

I’ve done a lot of research to write this article and one of the points of note was, of course – who did it first?  My research took me back as far as 1969 when 3 GTRs appeared for the first time.  The Holden Torana ‘LC’ GTR was presented to dealers for the first time in October 1969.  The legendary GTR XU-1 would follow a few months later.  Predating the Holden by just one month in Japan was the Isuzu Bellett 1600 GT-R.

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The earliest appearance of the R suffix, however was the PGC10 Nissan Skyline 2000 GT-R.  It first appeared as a concept at the Tokyo Motorshow in October 1968 before going on sale in February of 1969.  Its predecessor, the Prince Skyline 2000 GT-B was already a legendary racing car in Japan, after taking the fight up to, yet ultimately coming second to the word-conquering Porsche 904.  An ‘R’ racing version was the logical next step and was marketed alongside the R380 race car to legitimise its racing bona fides.

Racing Pedigree

GTRs are built to race and most have become legendary.

The Skyline GT-R PGC10 won 33 victories in one and a half years of racing.  The Coupé KPGC10 would take further wins, making it legendary in its home market.  Later, the Group A R32 GT-R would decimate all before it, earning the nickname ‘Godzilla’.  Notable wins include the Bathurst 1000 twice, Spa 24 Hours and all 29 races it was entered in between 1990 and 1993 in Japan. It’s well documented that the rules were changed in Australia to outlaw it, such was its dominance.  If there was ever a case for the ultimate pedigreed GTR, this would go a long way to earning the rights.

The GT-R, reintroduced with the R32 (launched August 1989), made its debut at the opening race of the All Japan Championship in March 1990. In the four seasons running up to the last All Japan Championship held in1993, the GT-R achieved a spectacular record, winning all 29 rounds. This No. 12 Calsonic (CalsonicKansei at present) Skyline (K. Hoshino/Masahiko Kageyama) was victorious in 1990 and 1993.

Not as long lived but just as legendary, the McLaren F1 GTR.  The F1 was never intended to race, however the program was borne at the behest of McLaren’s customers.  It’s wasn’t a slap-dash job, but Gordon Murray was only afforded one day in the McLaren wind tunnel to develop the aero kit, lest he take too much time away from the Formula 1 team.  They still went out and dominated the BPR class it was built for then in 1995 won that little race, the 24 Hours of LeMans.  It remains the only time a car entered in the road car based GT class would ever top the Prototype classes.

The CLK GTR never won the LeMans 24 Hours, however it did take out the 1997 Drivers and Teams GT championships.  It also contributed to championship wins in 1998.

  The State of Today

I find Mercedes AMG’s choice to name the track version of the GT coupe the GT R very curious.  It clearly fits with the naming convention within the range, GT, GT S, GT C.  Yet it’s inviting comparisons with a Nissan, a brand I would generally consider well beneath Benz.  Yet they’re pitching it into the same class with the same name.

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The Nissan GT-R has always been a special, one-out car that transcends the rest of the dowdy Nissan range.   If anything Benz is giving Nissan a free kick.  The R35 is a 10 year old design.  The similar naming has invited the motoring press to compare the two. The new car is winning but not by anywhere near the margin you’d expect it to.  Especially for a new Benz.  Better choices might have been GT T (Track), GT P (Performance) or if they wanted to tap their own history, GT H (Hammer).  GT H works on so many levels, it also has amusing marketing synergies with Lewis Hamilton (Hammer time) but I digress.

The CLK GTR is a mostly forgotten blip in Mercedes history and they quickly renamed it to the LM when they got serious about chasing the LeMans win.

MERCEDES-AMG GT R, AMG green hell magno, Leder Exklusiv Nappa/Mikrofaser DINAMICA schwarz;Kraftstoffverbrauch kombiniert 11,4 l/100 km, CO2-Emissionen kombiniert 259 g/km* MERCEDES-AMG GT R, AMG green hell magno, Exclusive Nappa leather/DINAMICA microfiber black;Fuel consumption, combined 11.4 l/100 km, CO2 emissions, combined 259 g/km*

The big problem is that the AMG GT R is not really the Racing version, that’s the GT3.  It’s a track day special.  It hasn’t earned the R designation in the hellfire of motorsport like the Nissan, the McLaren or even the BMW and Holden have.  It doesn’t matter how good the car is, the marketing berks at Benz have wiped their feet on 48 years of tradition.  They can go and get stuffed.

  Nissan. Mercedes AMG. McLaren. Why so many GTRs? #h93 #cars #street #racing #sportscar I'm confused.  Among all the choices, versions and variants out there in car land, there are no less than 3 vehicles available for sale today called GTR.