#also if you have non-soup i am open to those as well just most slow cooker recipes are soups
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on a slow cooker soup making kick. send me your favorite recipes!
#preferably vegetarian or easily made vegetarian (ie switching from meat to veg broth)#i am open to any/all cuisines!#the speaking clown#also if you have non-soup i am open to those as well just most slow cooker recipes are soups
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TOGETHER FOREVER // Asra x Reader
ASRA + A NON-BINARY MC
WORD COUNT: 2541
GENRE: Fluff
Water.
Flowing water, molded into ballerinas, swaying to the slow, dreamy rhythm of a harp, by a skilled magician, surrounded me as I stood in the middle of a vast, colorful oasis. It took me a while before I realized that I was in Asra's gate. How did I end up being there?
The plants sprung to life, engulfing me, filling my vision with a dancing of warm colors that reminded me of him as I closed my eyes. I could feel the phantom of warmth embrace me, and when I opened my eyes, I was greeted with those deep and sincere purple eyes of his.
The world seemed to have slowed down, every action taking some time as if it was to savor the moment. I found myself loosely wrapping my arms around his neck as he caressed my other cheek, and I leaned to the feeling.
I could see Asra's magnificent aura combining with mine, making a beacon of blinding light that went up to the sky.
His tender touch never fails to send me flying over to the moon, both our magic combined as if speaking to one another, my heart reacting to his own.
He pressed his forehead against mine, a blush creeping up his face.
"I love you."
-
With that, I had unfortunately awoken. I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, soon realizing that Asra was not beside me anymore. The smell of my favorite soup wafted out from the kitchen to the bedroom, causing me to blearily walk towards it. The sleepiness soon ebbed my system once the smell got stronger. Asra wasn't aware that I already woke up, so I sneakily went on to hug him from behind, earning an adorable gasp from him and making me chuckle.
"[MC]? You're awake. Did you have a good sleep?"
I nuzzled his fluffy hair. "Mhm I suppose. I had a really good dream."
"Oh? Why don't you tell me about it."
"We were in your gate. But it didn't look like before.. it was more magical that time. Well, just us doing some romantic things.. Involving magic too!"
Asra let out a chuckle, "Why don't we make it real then?" He turned around, giving me that playful look of his. I grinned. "Ooh, I love the sound of that."
Soon, I found myself being fed by him as we ate our breakfast. Faust kept on squeezing us alternatively. She seemed excited about something.
"[MC], what do you say we go out for a trip today?" Asra asked, wiping off some remaining soup droplets on my chin which I hadn't noticed.
"Where will we go?"
"I thought about bringing you to the magical realms, but then I thought of something better." He casted a wistful look on me. "Let's forget about the realms for the mean time. Let's just explore the city. What do you think?"
"You know I'm up for it! But you'll have to let me take a bath first!" I chuckled.
"Take your time. I won't mind." He playfully winked at me as I headed towards the bathroom.
Some time later, we arrived at the city market. Vesuvians were partially rowdy and quiet. Though some even came stumbling near the two of us, but it was alright. Asra held my hand tightly as I saw him grinning at something— or someone. The market seemed a bit more playful today. Maybe that's why he decided to take me here? The fun in the atmosphere was tangible, especially when I heard the strumming of guitars— and the next moment, all I knew was that Asra and I were dancing in the middle of the street, accompanied by some other couples until the beat had stopped.
It was fun while it lasted. It's as if my body had a mind of its own when I let myself dance to the rhythm. I didn't care about anything else other than the joyous music. I knew what felt right, and it felt right to let myself sway to the rhythm with Asra. Abstract magic bubbled around the two of us. How I love feeling that way.
However, right after the dancing session, the world suddenly dissipated into nothingmess. I was left all alone in a dark, fathomless land where no one seemed to hear me. No Asra... no Faust. I tried to connect to them using my magic, but something was intercepting it. No no, I didn't feel something ominous despite the situation. So what, exactly, was stopping me? I called out to my magic once more, and there I felt a recognizable aura somewhere. Asra's. He was nearby, I could tell, but it's as if he was hiding behind a veil which I didn't know where to find. I was in distress, but then something dawned me.
Asra must've been playing tricks with me. I should've known from the beginning. Ugh, I am so going to get that rascal! I let my magic surround me, and then I was back at the market— but I was alone. If he was pulling a prank on me, I'd give him credits for the effort of making the crowd disappear too. I clicked my tongue but later on grinned. What kind of prank was it? I got a little excited to know what to see at the end of the tunnel.
"Asraaaaaa!"
I called out for the nth time. I was aimlessly walking that I didn't realize I already bumped to a hulking figure. The smell of Myrrh...
"Muriel! Have you seen my sneaky magician?"
He looked away as soon as I met his eyes. He didn't reply. He just walked away. I followed him with my eyes but then he stopped his tracks, reluctantly beckoning me to join him. And I did. And I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. Asra really did execute a massive prank for me because the whole Vesuvia seemed empty of people. I was beginning to get confused when I still didn't see anyone, but when we turned to a corner, leading to which I presume is the docks, an enthralling scenery surprised me.
My fellow Vesuvians were scattered on the side. The middle was empty and I supposed I would be walking there, and I was right. I let out a confused noise when they suddenly started singing all together. Their voices were harmonious that it somehow made my heart feel lighter than it already was. I could spot a few familiar faces.
Selasi, our favorite baker, then came up to me, handing me something. I was surprised that it wasn't bread but a bouquet of my favorite flowers. I thanked him, but before I could ask furthermore, he hastily ran back to the crowd.
"Muriel, what's going on?"
What did I expect? He didn't even turn around. I guessed I wouldn't be having any answers until I see the mastermind behind all of this.
I spotted Aisha and Salim in the crowd. They gave me a meaningful smile, a sly look on their faces. I smiled back and proceeded to walk down the center even if I had no idea what was happening. Their attentions were all on me. It made me feel overwhelmed, as if I was the star of Vesuvia. And jeez, was the Countess and all the other courtiers somewhere in the crowd?
Speaking of, I soon found Nadia standing in a corner. Her elegant figure stood out the most. I was taken aback when she walked to me, and I received a bouquet of flowers once again. She gave me a playful look and then weaved herself through the crowd. I soon spotted Portia, and she did the same thing to me, winking afterwards.
And by the time I had reached Julian standing in the middle of the docks, my arms were already full of bouquets, but he gave a blind eye to that and proceeded to put another bouquet on top of the rest that I could barely see what's in front of me. And as I expected, the strain in my arms made the bouquets fall to the ground. I regretfully looked at them. But just as I was about to pick them up, Julian intercepted, swaying his long, lanky arms that almost hit my face.
"Whoops! No no no no. We can't have our main star doing the work here, can we?"
He flashed a shameless grin and started picking up the bouquets. I didn't argue and instead chuckled. Then as I lifted my gaze, I finally saw Asra, standing at the edge and giving me a look as if to tell "I'm expecting you."
He smiled at me as I ran into him, completely forgetting the fact that he's at the edge. One slight move and he would fall into the water. But something unusual happened. 'Asra' bursted into fizzy bubbles and tiny butterflies that soon engulfed me, making me giggle. And once they gave way, I was greeted by a bunch of tiny ballerinas which emerged from the water. They were careful not to get too close and drench my clothes. My smile grew even wider as I recalled my dream. There were also dancing ballerinas surrounding me, but bigger. Asra must had taken note of that to pull the trick off.
I pivoted, seeing 'Asra' give me another bouquet of flowers. But they were much larger than the ones my friends had given to me. The other half was drenched though since it was given to me by the water in which Asra shaped himself to.
"[MC]." I heard a boisterous call, making me turn around for the nth time, and that time I finally saw the real Asra. Solid and radiating an immense aura of magic. Joyous but somehow perplexed. I threw myself at him, and we bursted into giggles.
"My, my.. You really know how to pull a trick off your sleeves. Is this really the real you, or are you just another one of his illusions?"
"I'm the real one you know," His airy voice tickled my ears. There was a playful tone in his voice. "Want me to prove it?"
"N-Not in front of everyone!" I flushed but eventually cleared my throat. "Uhm, mind explaining yourself? Please tell me what's gotten into your mind to do this."
He only gave me a smug look, but later on evaded my gaze as a blush crept on his face. The crowd had already stopped singing. They were silent and watching us as if expecting something huge to happen. I looked at my friends, who were only giving me playful looks. I frowned, but then it hit me.
Or I might just be assuming things. It was just a massive prank, right? Asra didn't do it because of...
"[MC]."
"Yeees?"
"I.. You know how much I care for you.. Right?"
I heard someone in the crowd squeal.
"Yes. You told me about it when.. when we were at the fountain... during the most recent masquerade." I blushed as I reminisced the scene. It made my heart flutter when he told me that he loves me. It filled me with joy. We've been through a lot...
"We've been through a lot of adventures ever since we defeated the Devil. And I treasure the memories that we keep on making... I find it better to go on adventures with you by my side rather than going alone," He looked at me and smiled. It was my turn to look away due to our faces' proximity. "You showed me a different perspective of the world, [MC], and I can't imagine living a life without you anymore. I feel like as long as we're together, we'll be able to overcome anything."
My heart erratically beated as he said those words. A mixture of Aww's and other complements came from the crowd, but Asra didn't seem to mind. He was staring at me. And only at me.
"I love you, [MC]. And I'll keep on loving you.." He widened the distance between us a little, kneeling down and as if searching for something in his pocket. I didn't know how red my face was at the time. I felt like exploding.
He really was doing it.
He was proposing to me.
Asra stopped his search and shyly looked around, but he was somehow distressed.
"Now where did I put it...." He looked down, facepalming. "Faust, where are you? I told you not to play with it."
At the mention of her name, Faust slithered towards him, something shiny in her mouth. Asra chuckled and scolded her as she took refuge in his sleeve. Then, he averted his gaze back to me, his eyes gleaming with hope and love.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, [MC]. And I hope you do too... Will you marry me?"
He showed me the ring that flashed the colors of the rainbow before my very eyes. Milliseconds after he said that the crowd started cheering and squealing, and I didn't even utter my answer yet, and I couldn't due to all the noise. Portia took care of it though.
"HEY! Did we actually hear what [MC] said? QUIET!" And the noise dissipated.
The more I looked at Asra, the more I realized how nervous he actually was. Even with a brave facade, I could still see through him. We were blushing so bad as he waited for my answer. But I felt like I couldn't speak at the time. I was overwhelmed with euphoria that I couldn't bring myself to utter a single word or even move. It took me a few seconds to calm myself, responding to his question with a smile.
"D-Do you even have to ask?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Of course it is! Yes! I'll marry you!"
Asra stood up with a wide, genuine smile as he put the ring on my finger. It was filled with an intricate design, the pattern carved meticulously. I was so amazed at how detailed it was. I looked at it with awe. I couldn't believe what was hapenning. I might've swooned.
"Good. I was beginning to think you wouldn't.."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know." Asra laughed, pulling me into a kiss. His magic surged into me and when he pulled away, he immediately took me in his embrace. The crowd started cheering once again that I could barely hear myself over it.
"Did you make the ring?"
"Yes. Did you like it?"
"Like it? I love it!" I flushed against his chest.
"The ring only?"
"Psh, of course you too! I love you, Asra!"
He chuckled and intertwined our fingers. I blushed even more. If I could explode, I already would've.
"I love you too. I loved you ever since."
"Asra! Stop making me blush.."
"But I was just stating facts! Right Faust?"
"Right!"
He really couldn't fail to make me blush, to create butterflies and grow flowers inside me, and to make my heart feel light and filled with pure bliss.
We were engaged, and I couldn't wait to see what the future stores for us.
The future that includes him and I, completely contented with each other's presence.
#asra the arcana#the arcana#the arcana game#asra x reader#the arcana x you#asra alnazar#asra the magician#the arcana x reader#asra x mc#fluff all the way#ASRA = BEST BOI#reader insert#character x you#x reader#SPOILERWEGONMARRYOURBOI
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68 from the winter prompt list seems Very sternclay and I would love to see your take on it, nsfw if it fits would be great too, thank you!!!
Here you go, it is indeed NSFW!
68. you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day
Stern tries to avoid being rude in public, or in general, really. But right now he’s wondering if he can get away with shoving his face into this soup bowl and licking out the bottom. The food at Amnesty Lodge has always been stellar, but lately the soups are the highlight of his day.
Reluctantly, he leaves the last delicious dregs at the bottom of the blue ceramic bow and heads to the counter to pay his bill.
“How was everything?” Dani rings him up with a smile.
“Incredible. I swear, Barclay out does himself every time I come.”
“Great! I’ll tell him you said so. I know he loves getting feedback on new recipes.”
-------------------------
“You did not say that.” Barclay drags the rag down the counter top.
“Okay, so I didn’t add ‘especially from guys who he thinks are hot,’you got me.” She smirks as she clocks out.
“It’s not my fault he’s so cute when he gets excited about food.”
“Barclay, just ask him out already.”
“But he’s a customer!”
“Who you also see once a week at game night at Duck’s. He’s for sure in friend territory at this point.”
“She’s got a point. Besides, sometimes flirting with customers ends well.” Aubrey leans against the kitchen door, twirling her car keys and winking at her girlfriend, “right, honey?”
“Absolutely, firebug.” Dani loops her arm around Aubrey’s waist, then levels Barclay with the look that routinely makes people mistake her for his little sister, “ask him out, or I am going to leave your number on his check the next time he comes in.”
“Okay, okay” He holds up his hands, chuckling, “you win.”
He waves goodnight, finishes locking up once the two women are gone. Then he climbs the stairs home. Amnesty Lodge was a real lodge, once upon a time. But as the city grew and buildings were divided and repurposed, only the restaurant and the rooms above it, plus the small house next door, remained. Mama, the owner, lives in the house, and Barclay has the apartment. It’s nice; he has no commute, he can run up and change if he gauges his layers wrong, and he likes being able to hear the river running nearby and the traffic humming through his window.
Maybe Joseph would like to come up here after closing some night for coffee? Or is that too forward? Would he be interested if it was forward, or if they took it slow? Would he be interested in Barclay at all? Does he just like him for his soup?
God, the soup. He never meant for it to become a thing. His usual menu had three or four soups of the day in rotation, but then Joseph ordered a bowl of the corn cheddar chowder to go with his club sandwich and ate it so joyfully that Barclay caught him licking his spoon. Which did nothing to quash his budding crush on the guy. So he started trying out new recipes just to see Joseph get excited, and now it seems like Joseph is coming in just for the soup, and the upshot is he may be stuck forever in a soup-loop because of the way Joseph’s eyes crinkle when he’s happy.
He knows that Joseph agreeing to a date would make him happier than a fresh produce delivery. But he has no clue if he really stands a chance with a guy who’s always well-dressed and friendly, when he himself is an often quiet, scraggly looking cook.
Well, if nothing else, he has to try. Dani is not a woman of empty threats.
------------------------------------------------------
“How do you do it?” Joseph rests his chin in his hand, spoon sitting in his empty bowl. He’s at the counter seating, so he can see Barclay working at the grill.
“Do what?”
“Come up with such good recipes. And don’t try to say it’s cookbooks; you said last week that you’ve come up with a lot of them on your own.”
“It’s, uh, it’s nothing special, just a lot of tinkering.” He gets an idea, one that flashes over him so hot and fast he’s afraid the stove caught fire.
“Would, uh, would you like to help me out with the newest one? I get off in an hour since I was on the early shift today.”
“I’d love to! I have some errands to run downtown, so as much as I’d like to hang around for an hour and watch you show off, I’ll see you at seven.” He sets down the cash to cover the bill and a tip, winks, and heads out the door. Barclay really hopes he stays in the suit when he comes back.
“Uh, dude?”
“Yeah, Jake?”
“Toast’s on fire.”
“Fuck!”
-------------------------------------------------
Barclay finishes setting out his mise en place right as there’s a knock on the front door. He swings it open and finds Joseph waiting patiently, a grocery bag slung over his shoulder. He’s still in his suit; Barclay can just spot his black tie with little ufos on it peeking out of his winter coat.
“Dani said I should just come on up.” He slips off his shoes, revealing socks with Bigfoot on them, “and I brought some wine, and a fancy beer I found at Jenny Street Market, since I wasn’t sure what kind of soup it is.”
“My take on a traditional Irish stew, so let's do the beer.” Barclay grabs two pint glasses and pours as Joseph finishes hanging up his coat and joins him in the kitchen. He’s down to his dress shirt and slacks, eagerly rolling up his sleeves before taking the glass.
“Right, what do we do first?”
Barclay takes a prolonged sip to avoid blurting out his real answer, then starts explaining that they need to figure out the right ratio of vegetable to lamb and which spices work best in the stock.
They talk as they work, Joseph sharing his theories on the plausible plot twists in this season of Agent X and Barclay teasing him whenever he gets going on a tangent about the monster of the week episodes. The easy back and forth, the warmth of the apartment as the air fills with spices and butter, the way the kitchen lights plays off Joseph’s face; it feels like a home, and his stomach twists whenever he remembers that the other man will leave in an hour or two.
“Barclay, I have to ask; why the sudden zest for soup?” Joseph sets his glass down, still half full because they’re talking too much to drink more than a sip at a time.
“Uhhh, just, uhh a good fit for a winter menu.” Barclay sets the lid onto the dutch oven; it’ll take at least forty-five minutes for this batch to thicken and develop flavor. When he hazards a glance at Joseph, the man is studying him, one eyebrow raised.
“Is that all?”
He washes his hands to buy time to build up his courage, then sighs, “Nope. It started after the first time you ordered it. You just got so excited whenever I had a new soup of the day, and I liked making you feel that way, so I just kept finding or making new recipes I hoped you’d like. Heh” he rubs his wrist, anxious, “sounds hella weird when I say it out loud like that.”
Turning, he finds Joseph with his hands covering his mouth.
“Fuck, sorry, probably shouldn’t have confessed that when we’re alone-”
“What? Oh, Barclay,” Joseph steps forward, taking his hands, “I’m not upset, I’m shocked. That’s, um, that’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s done for me, going to all that trouble, you didn’t have to.” The words are a bit stuttery and jumbled, Joseph going pinker after each one.
“I wanted to. I’d make a whole new menu every day if it’d make you smile that way.”
His lower back bangs into the counter as Joseph crowds him, fingers digging into his hair so roughly that it starts coming loose from its tie. He tastes like beer and stock he kept sampling, and Barclay licks it up, pressing his tongue between his welcoming lips, desperate to bring them as close together as possible.
Joseph pulls away, resting their foreheads together, as he undoes Barclay’s shirt with ruthless efficiency, “Do you have any idea how hot that is?”
“The...doing nice things for you part?” He cups Joseph’s cheeks, trailing his thumbs over the hints of five o’ clock shadow.
“You went to all that trouble, just for me.” Joseph drags his mouth up Barclay’s neck as he continues, “just to make me happy.”
“I mean, made me happy too.” He mumbles into black hair.
“I’m trying to compliment you, big guy.” Joseph nips his bottom lip.
“Oh fuck.” He whimpers at the nickname, at the way the other man doesn’t hesitate to shove his hands up his now-bare chest, demanding and adoring, “guess all those jokes about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach are true.”
“While the food helps, there’s so much more about you that I like. For instance” he drags his hands down to Barclay’s stomach before palming his hardening cock through his jean, “you’re the most handsome man in town.”
He whimpers louder this time, Joseph keeping up the light pressure on his cock.
“Bedroom?” It’s both an encouragement and a question, the ton letting Barclay know he’s welcome to continue but not obligated to.
“The, can’t, can’t leave the stove unattended.” He gropes Joseph’s ass through his slacks, kisses his neck as he tries to calculate if turning off the stew will mess up the recipe.
“I love how responsible you are.” It’s another compliment, a dead serious one, “and I have an idea.” He steps back, hurries over to the grocery bag, and pulls out a small, rectangular box.
“I couldn’t tell if this was a date, so I decided to be on the safe side.” He surveys the kitchen, “feel like picking a surface to bend me over?”
Barclay practically knocks a stack of cookbooks off the tiny kitchen table, dragging a laughing Joseph over to shove him across it.
“This okay?” He pants as he covers the back of his neck with kisses.
“Better than okay. Barclay please, I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and basically non-stop for the last two hours.”
“Fucking-A” He’s amazed there isn’t a cartoonish boi-oi-oing when he gets his pants and boxers down, his cock--his whole being, really--aching for the chance to fuck the man in front of him. Getting Joseph’s pants down takes two tries, and opening the condom takes three because he’s shaking so hard from excitement.
“Need a hand, big guy?”
“Nope. Just need this.”
“FUCKohfuck, shit” Joseph reaches forward, gripping the far edge of the table as Barclay sinks into him, “yes, need it too, need you so bad.”
“You got me babe” he loops one arm around Joseph’s hips, sets his free hand next to his on the table for balance, “and I got you.” He starts slow, relishing every little sound he gets in reply to his thrusts, kissing any exposed skin he can find, then rucking Joseph’s shirt up his back to find more.
Joseph’s hand moves down towards his cock, but Barclay gently guides it back onto the table, “No need to babe. Like I said, I got you.”
He doesn't mean to start railing him the instant after his fingers find his cock. It’s more that feeling him soaking and hard, all because of (and all for) him, the grateful moan he lets out at the contact, the way he grinds his hips back and forth, it sets off every part of Barclay’s brain at once, and all he wants to do is take him, make him cum, break the fucking table showing him how much he wants him.
“Ohmylord” Joseph gasps, raising his head, “oh my fucking--Barclay yes, like that, lord you don;t disappoint.” His smile is ecstatic, more than the worlds clumsiest hand-job deserves, and Barclay forces his fingers to find their professional finesse, rub and stroke in the ways that make Joseph beg for more.
He growls as he feels his orgasm building; not yet, no fucking way, he wants to feel Joseph cum around him. With Herculean effort, he stills his hips and focuses, growling again as Joseph tightens around him. When the man beneath him cums, the last of his restraint evaporates and he hammers into him, table scraping forward inch by inch in time with his grunts and Joseph’s weakening moans.
His climax doubles him over, and he spills with a muffled moan, mouthing at Joseph’s shoulder through his shirt.
Then his legs give, ten minutes of furious fucking after a ten hour shift enough for them to peace out. He lands with an “oof” on the floor, and Joseph is laughing again as he turns to stare down at him.
“Are you okay down there?”
He gives a thumbs up, “Cute guy just shorted out all my circuits, no big.”
Joseph fixes his pants and shirt, joins him on the floor and pulls him into his arms, “I’d say it was very big.”
Barclay snickers, rests his head on his shoulder, “Walked into that one. Gimme sec, then I can make us some dinner. Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“We’re not having soup?”
Barclay kisses his cheek, “Nah, you can have that for dinner tomorrow at the Lodge.”
Joseph’s smile is full of delicious trouble, “How about for breakfast?”
He holds him close, smiling at him, “Babe, you got yourself a deal.”
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Sanemi x F!S/O: Slow Burn (Modern AU, SFW Scenario)
Summary: Sanemi wants to get married immediately for personal reasons, and it just so happened that a feisty woman at a restaurant caught his eye. Little did he know that she was going to be his future boss— and even knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting to pursue her. Cue (Y/n), whose siblings are all meddlesome and bratty; enough to tell their father that she had a boyfriend, just for laughs. Not wanting to disappoint him with the thought of her living the rest of her life by herself, she sets out to find the perfect fake boyfriend. Note: This was written waaaay back in 2017, but it never saw the light of day. But I rewrote it for Sanemi, and here it is now. This is only the first part, since i initially planned it to be a three-part fic. But, enjoy, bbys. Hopefully I get to writing part 2 soon. It really depends on your feedback. Haha. Words: 6,252
Warnings: This is more OC-insert than reader-insert. Weird kitchen terms will fly. Which is why I want to scrap the idea altogether, but not without sharing it first.
***
Being away from home was always hard; not only did the person that was away miss the people closest to them, but also felt like they were wedging a gap between themselves and all of their loved ones as time went by. The longer someone was away from home, the bigger the gap grew, and the clearer it was to them that life moved on without them in the picture.
It hurt— of course it did— because it felt like everyone that that person left behind had forgotten about them, like they had become insignificant. But life did go on, even for those who had been the ones to leave— still, that didn’t erase their longing for days long past when their world seemed a much smaller, and marginally simpler place.
Almost nine years had passed since (L/n) (Y/n) moved away from her home to pursue her dreams. She wasn’t going to sugar-coat her story and tell people that she struggled financially while studying at Les Roche International in Switzerland for her Bachelor’s Degree in Hospitality Management, nor was she going to lie and say that she got into the New York campus of the Culinary Institute of America after so many setbacks.
She had been, however, downplaying her lifestyle after getting her associate degree for culinary arts at CIA. It was like she was leading a double life that the friends she made, while flitting from kitchen to kitchen, didn’t know about.
At 25, she had moved to Tokyo by herself to work at the city with the most Michelin Stars in the world; and now that she was at the cusp of turning 27, she was still in the same city, and the same restaurant, with the same one Michelin Star award— but she was a chef de partie now, which just meant more work for her.
Her one-year experience spent working in America after culinary school was a walk in the park compared to working for her current restaurant— well, three restaurants, if one were to be technical about things. Back at her old kitchen in the west, there was a full staff— and a very low employee turnover rate; in fact, it was rare to have people quit back there.
But her current place was— most possibly— worse than what everyone imagined when they heard the term ‘hell on Earth’. It was so bad that it was a regular sight to see people on the line quit on the spot, once they were so deep in the shits during service. She could have always left along with the others before her, but she found a perverse sense of joy from surviving in such a toxic workplace.
Not to mention the fact that she got to rub elbows with some of the best chefs from all over the world, when they came in as guests for one of the three restaurants.
The breakdown of the restaurants was the fine dining restaurant (where the Michelin Star was awarded), a gastropub, and a sub-kitchen for the events that they catered— as well as for those guest chefs that came in once a month for an entire week. The restaurant was huge— spanning 14,500 square feet, as well as a having a basement level where all the nitty gritty parts of the kitchen were.
When she first started there, she felt so exposed in the expansive open kitchen, that allowed the guests in the gastropub to see the hot line in the kitchen; while the pastry and garde manger stations were tucked away behind the wall, that separated the kitchen from the fine dining restaurant.
She couldn’t find a perfect way to describe the layout because it was just that big but, basically, the fine dining restaurant was tucked away from all the commotion— and people had to pass through a tunnel of sorts to get there.
While the gastropub housed both an open bar and the open kitchen, the event spaces as well as the sub-kitchen were hidden away at a loft-type space. It was so confusing to get around at first, but she eventually got used to it.
And now here she was, enjoying the last five minutes of peace of her supposed lunch break standing at the sauté station— her new station— and staring at the 22-quart Cambro filled with freshly-made Mornay, that she had almost shouted at one of the sous chefs about.
She was just lucky that she came in three (unpaid) hours early for work, because she wanted to get ahead on her prep; so she had enough time to squeeze in making the mornay with the other hundred things she had to do.
With such a big kitchen and a lack of people, everyone ended up stealing each other’s prep— whether it was for a VIP, or a party, or basically whatever that needed to be made. As long as it was in the walk-in fridge, it was fair game.
She was just happy to finally have been taken out of garde manger because— even if the station was meant for two people since it was prep-heavy (four if you count the two other people needed to take care of the parties)— she had been stuck working it by herself for the past five months.
“(Y/n), did you go on break yet?” The executive sous chef yelled from the pass— which was basically the area where their executive chef stood and expedited food during service; and just behind the pass was the stairs leading down to the basement floor. They also had an elevator, which was extremely helpful… when it wasn’t out of service.
“I am on break, chef,” the (h/c) haired girl answered with a laugh— when she just wanted to punch the guy square in the face, since he was the one who had used up the 14 quarts of Mornay that she had in the upstairs walk-in fridge yesterday.
“You know you shouldn’t be working, right?” The man asked her with a sardonic tilt of his head, that made (Y/n) want to scream. Just because he was higher up in the ranks than her made him think that he was the shit when, in fact, he was just shit— shit at his job, and shit as a person.
I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. She repeated her age-old mantra in her head, and then answered, “I know, chef. I’m-” the apology was about to slip from her lips when she caught it. “It won’t happen again, chef.”
“Make sure it doesn’t.” One of the banes of her existence called out before going down the stairs.
“Oui, chef!” (Y/n) cried, gritting her teeth afterwards, so she could hold back the snarky comeback that was threatening to spill from her lips. Really, she loved her job, but it was pricks like that who stressed her out.
And so, she took a deep breath and exhaled it in one strong gust— refocusing her mind so that she would be ready for the five parties up in the lofts, as well as the 250 covers that they had in the fine dining restaurant.
***
“Fire trio!” The executive chef, a 37-year old man from Florida (that used to be fit when he first arrived at the restaurant a year ago), called out from the pass— marking the ticket in his hand and tucking it into the slider bar mounted to the steel shelf that was mounted to the ceiling.
Everyone called out a loud chorus of ‘Oui’ in response.
Trios were there appetizer, and those got sent to the table before anything else, so it was synonymous with ‘another table just sat down’.
(Y/n) kept on making the orders that she had on her board, often moving from her stove to the Josper oven to put sauté pans with food inside. She was running out of burners on the stove, and it was starting to piss her off.
From behind her, the ticket machine whirred to life and started printing out an extremely long ticket. She internally groaned, before picking up one of the sauté pans on her stove and giving the mushrooms in it a little toss.
And all of that was happening while she had another ticket in her hand— memorizing all of her items on it.
“Order in! Four soup, two kale salads on the fly!” Whoever was serving the table on this ticket must have hated her, because she was already in the shits without any orders of their version of vichyssoise. But they just had to recommend the fucking thing now.
“Oui, chef! Four soup on the fly! Give me three minutes, chef!” (Y/n) yelled in a gruff voice— letting her frustration out in a non-hostile manner as she practically threw the pan of mushrooms in her hand, into the Josper behind her to cook them further.
Her brain was buzzing with so many things that she had to remember— the mushrooms in the Josper, the pan of broccolini she put in before the mushrooms, the truffle gnocchi that she still had to make in the next five minutes, and all of the other dishes from her station that needed to be up for the next table.
Sometimes even she amazed herself when she managed to finish a busy night, without getting yelled at even once.
“171 up at 15,” the executive chef yelled once more, and (Y/n) clicked her tongue as she hurriedly heated up the soup, while simultaneously plating her orders on that ticket— since it was already 7:14, so she had only a minute to get that done.
“Where’s my soup!? How long here, chef?”
“One minute, chef!” Her head was pounding with so much stress, but she pushed through it by taking all the food she had for table 171, and parked them beneath the heat lamps at the pass— calling out ‘hot, behind’ frantically at almost the top of her lungs.
“Fuck my life.” (Y/n) grumbled under her breath, as she plated up the dry components for the soup. She then grabbed her quenelle spoon from its secluded bain to make rochers of whipped crème fraîche. And once those were done, she poured the soup into four tiny, ceramic pitchers, before putting everything up at the pass. “Soup at the window, chef!”
No answer came, which was normal, so the (h/c) haired girl kept on cooking whatever was printed out on the new tickets that came in. It wasn’t until she picked up one of the pans on her stove that she froze.
She wanted to scream and let go of the pan because she had forgotten that she had just taken it out from the Josper, yet she couldn’t let it go, because it was filled with the truffle gnocchi. So, she slammed it down on the steel countertop beside her before she waved her right hand around.
There was a nice, clear burn mark where the piping hot steel handle had touched her skin, and she clicked her tongue as she resumed working; trying to ignore the pain as she put up ticket after ticket.
***
Shinazugawa Sanemi had been watching her all night from his table, that was a mere few feet away from where she was working.
The moment that he sat down and turned to watch the show inside the kitchen, his gaze instantly gravitated towards her. She didn’t stick out because she was a woman, no, he was used to seeing women not being forced into gender roles now— but she stuck out because of the way that she moved in there. She held herself with so much poise and grace, that it looked like she was gliding across the floor at times, all while yelling in a brusque tone.
He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips— eyes never leaving her. It was so obvious that she was getting overwhelmed with the influx of orders bombarding her every second, but he was impressed with the way she handled all of that pressure with a mere furrow of her brows here and there; until she burned her hand.
Sanemi expected her to stop the show to ask for help, and he chuckled in mild disbelief when she merely shook her right hand, before picking up where she had left off. It was as if nothing had happened.
That woman was really something, and his curiosity was piqued.
Sanemi had to admit that he had been lacking female company as of late, because of four things; namely:
He had gotten tired of sleeping with his flings, because they always expected more than one night.
No woman had a personality that kept him interested for longer than a week, as every single one of them had a heart like a marshmallow— too soft and sweet.
No one could put up with his abrasive personality, and most importantly…
He wanted to get married. The sooner, the better.
Part of his desire to get married was because his younger brother, Genya, was already engaged and getting married next year— so he wanted to get another thing over his brother. He had been taught better than to think of a life commitment as a means for a competition, but he simply didn’t care: he wanted to have what his brother always said was unparalleled happiness.
But the more pressing issue was that… he was starting to feel lonely. He didn’t make a habit of getting jealous, but he found himself going green with envy whenever his married staff— both from his previous company and the new one— mentioned even the simplest night with their respective wives. He wanted that for himself as well.
Hell, he was prepared to pay any amount to any woman that could keep up with him, just so she would marry him. But maybe he was doomed to stay single forever— he didn’t know.
So, there he was— out drinking beer by his lonesome self on a Thursday night, because he didn’t want to be alone in his apartment.
He had thought that it was too small for his taste at first but, as time went by, he realized that it felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. After the party was done and all the bottles of alcohol were picked up, he was always left with a cold feeling of emptiness weighing him down.
“Would you like another pint, sir?” One of the waiters asked Sanemi as they were passing by. He didn’t even realize that he’d finished the whole glass.
The silver-haired man shook his head even though he wanted nothing more than to get plastered, so he could just amble home and instantly fall asleep on his bed. “No, thanks. But… could you get me a menu?”
It didn’t take long for the waiter to get back to him with a menu booklet in hand. He briefly thanked the man and browsed through the pages; lifting his eyes up to the (h/c) haired woman every once in a while. Based on what he had observed, the dishes that she was making wasn’t on this menu, so he flagged down another waiter.
“Are you ready to order, sir?”
“I was wondering if I could order some soup to start?” Sanemi asked in a no-nonsense manner, that he hoped would let him order something that clearly wasn’t on the menu for that part of the restaurant.
The waiter cast a glance over at the kitchen, and seemed to hesitate before nodding. “Of course, sir. Our soup is our chef’s version of a vichyssoise-” The young man drowned his voice out then, only half listening as is gaze flitted back to the woman. “Do you have any allergies or specifications?”
“No, no allergies.”
“Would you like anything else to go with your soup? A steak, perhaps? Or our truffle gnocchi; it’s one of our best sellers.”
He vaguely remembered her using truffles, so he found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t even matter to him that he had no clue what gnocchi was. “Sure. And I’d like to send a glass of red wine to one of the chefs— the finest you have.”
Again, he didn’t know a lick about wines or any of the fancy food that they served. And since he was more of a beer and anything-with-rice kind of guy, who was trying to get her attention, he had to play it up. He did have the money for it, so why not?
“Very well, sir. To which of the chefs would you like me to give your present to?” The waiter asked graciously, and Sanemi pointed over to where the woman was still working.
“To her.”
“Oh, I… uh…” the guy stuttered uncomfortably, hesitating a bit as Sanemi raised his eyebrows at him. “Yes, sir. I’ll give it to (Y/n); may I tell her who it’s from?”
“No. Just tell her that it’s from a new admirer— and that she should get that hand checked.”
***
“Chef, I have tomorrow and the next two days off, okay?” (Y/n) chirped as she popped her head into the chefs’ office, only to see the higher ups filing last minute orders and double-checking inventories for the night. It was always like that every night after service; everyone on the line would clean up in the kitchen— consolidating their mise and storing them in the upstairs walk-in chiller— before scrubbing everything down and doing their own little tasks for their stations.
“Why?” The executive chef asked, turning his chair so that he was facing her. “When did you ask me to give you that off?”
“Two weeks ago, chef. Remember?” She rolled her eyes with a sigh, which she never would have gotten away with during service. But after she was off the clock was a very different story. “I even wrote it down on a blue sticky note— right there!”
The man laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Have fun doing whatever it is that you’re going to do.”
“I wish I could, but I know that it’s going to be boring as fuck.”
“You can always work.” He offered with a grin.
(Y/n) laughed and shook her head. “Nice try, chef. But no. My attendance is a must at this family thing.”
“You’re going home to Osaka?” The sous-chef asked, turning his chair as well, so that he could look at the (h/c) haired girl standing in the doorway.
“No. If only Chef Jason would let me have a week off, right, chef?” She turned to the executive chef— Jason— with an innocent grin. “But alas, he’s going to miss me too much.”
“Your station’s going to crash and burn without you,” Jason griped with a huff.
“You’ll manage, chef. It’s only three days. But please don’t burn through all of my prep. I already stocked up on the things I could stock up on, and the rest of the gnocchi is in the freezer. I also finished doing my prep list. So, I’ll be going now! Bye, chefs!” With a wave, (Y/n) hightailed it out of there before they could tell her to get a jacket on and help them with party prep for tomorrow.
Like hell she was going to let that happen again. Fool her once, shame on her; but fool her twice… then she was dumb as fuck.
Once she made it out of the restaurant, she slowly made her way up the street— thinking about whether she should call an Uber to drive her to her condominium building. It was only three blocks away, but her feet were already killing her.
In the end, she took out her phone and sat down at the nearest bus stop to wait for her ride.
She looked down at her hands under the dim light above her, sighing heavily as she took note of how her cuts and burns stood out starkly against her skin. What once used to be unmarred and flawless— the envy of her friends back in high school— were so different now. Ugly as fuck for everyone else, but for her… “It gives me more character.”
A quiet laugh escaped her lips at that, and she heaved another sigh when she was reminded of what she had to face tomorrow at Nanafumi’s 50th anniversary party. Had it been any of the other companies in the long string of companies under her family’s ownership, she wouldn’t have even bothered to show her face, but since it was her family’s flagship company in Japan, attendance was a must.
Nanafumi was the crowning glory of her father’s empire— and it was the closest to his heart, because it had always been his late wife’s dream to become a big player in the Japanese market. Fifty years later, and the company that she had helped build was still one of the biggest players in the business world.
Along with the news of how the upcoming anniversary was going to be extremely fancy, there were so many talks going around that (Y/n) was the one who was going to be taking over the company. Since it was a food manufacturing company, many people thought that it made sense for her to take over.
But she didn’t want to take over the company; not because she was being rebellious, but because she wasn’t born with her father’s business acumen or her mother’s sharp business mind. Her sharp tongue, yes, but her mind… not so much.
Hell, there were six other siblings of hers to choose from, and all of them were just as qualified as she was to run Nanafumi. She could run it, but she would be running it into the ground.
(Y/n) was shaken from her reverie when a car pulled up in front of her. She checked the plates, and once she confirmed that it was her Uber, she hopped in for the quick trip to her building.
Suffice to say, her living quarters were… more than adequate for one person to live in. It used to be where she and her family lived when they spent month-long vacations in Tokyo, and her dad had given it to her as a present… along with the building itself.
She didn’t want to accept it at first, but she was a reasonable person. Not only was the unit already fully-paid for (which meant no rent to think of), but she also used the profits from the building itself (from the commercial spaces on the first three floors, to the monthly rent that some residential tenants paid) to pay for her own expenses.
She was basically set for life, but she didn’t want to just sit back and be a bum for the rest of her existence. Her mother had raised her better than that.
Even though both of her parents came from old money, they were pretty decent people. They didn’t look down on others, and made her and her siblings know the value of working hard for something you were passionate about. She liked to believe that all seven of them turned out to be well-rounded individuals.
And they were. If only her four older brothers and two younger sisters weren’t batshit crazy.
If she were to be honest, her family was like a pack of wild animals when all of them managed to get together. Everyone was so rowdy (sometimes even herself), but all of that was due to their closeness with each other; not because they fought or anything like that.
Yes, they did fight, but that was only when a good number of them were drunk as fuck.
She was just about ready to collapse when she managed to enter her place, swinging the door shut behind her, as she kicked her kitchen clogs off in the foyer. With a sigh, she walked towards her phone and pressed the button to hear all of her messages.
In this day and age, only her family would still use landline phones, and leave messages on answering machines.
“(Y/n), don’t forget the party tomorrow. It’s at seven.” Her father’s deep voice rang in the cavernous living area, making her smile as he spoke in their native Kansai dialect. “And bring your boyfriend with you— Miko told me that you got one over there? Is he husband material? (Y/n), you’re already 27, it’s time you got married and had kids.”
A loud groan escaped (Y/n)’s lips, as she pressed stop on the machine. She was going to kill Miko— her youngest sister— tomorrow. But tonight, it was time to eat something for her first meal of the day, get showered to get rid of the horrendous kitchen smell, and then get some much-needed sleep.
There was a stigma about people who worked in a kitchen: that they always had time to eat because they had access to so much food, but that was a laughable rumor.
They didn’t even have time to breathe, because they were always so busy doing their prep for the day. The most that she could eat on busy days was a French fry, or maybe a piece of raw tuna, but that was it.
And there was that time, about two weeks ago, that she got a glass of wine in the middle of service. The waiter didn’t say who it was from exactly, only that it was from an admirer— someone that knew about her burning her hand.
It was weird, not to mention creepy, but she took the glass with fervor and raised it up to the dining room— thanking whomever had sent her the alcohol, before downing it.
It certainly wasn’t her most refined moment, but she needed alcohol in her system at that time— and that more than did the trick for her. She had a slight buzz going, which emptied her mind and made her work more efficiently, so whomever it was that sent her that glass of wine had saved her from losing her sanity that day.
The wine kept coming every other day or so for a whole week, until it just stopped. She was bummed at first— because hey, it was free alcohol— until she had almost completely forgotten about it; until that moment.
She grabbed a pack of instant ramen from her cupboard stash, and promptly set out to make it.
Another misconception about chefs was that they always ate the best kinds of food— even at home, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Most chefs— especially those who worked full time in a restaurant— ate junk when they got home. The quicker it cooked, the better.
So all those last-minute aglio olio dreams, that some people imagined that chefs ate at home were just those: dreams.
The irony wasn’t lost on (Y/n), though. She spent her days making some of the best and most expensive food for people, but she always ate like a broke college student at home. Hell, broke college students even had time to order pizza— and she could have done that, if she didn’t get out of work at 11 or 12 at night.
Still, she loved what she did. After all, she also had a little of the crazy gene in her.
***
Dresses weren’t really high up on (Y/n)’s list of things that she liked to wear. Not anymore, anyway.
When she was in university, she loved dressing up and putting so much effort into her make up, but when she entered culinary school (where everything that wasn’t an ingredient was a food safety hazard) she let go of all the make-up, and the dresses, as well as the high heels that went with them.
There was one thing that culinary school helped her with, though: her confidence. When before, she had a hard time talking to people and had to force herself to be sociable at parties; after culinary school, she was so used to being the center of attention, because some of her mentors had a knack for yelling at their students in front of the entire class.
Hell, in the restaurant industry, people tended to treat everyone like shit— so she had basically been through a few mortifying situations that toughened her up enough to be somewhat shameless.
A downside to being toughened up by the kitchen was the potty mouth that came with the territory, though. And so, it took quite some effort for (Y/n) to keep herself from slipping a few casual ‘fuck’s, ‘damn’s, ‘shit’s, and a few other choice words into regular conversation, like she was adding salt to a bland dish.
“(Y/n)!” Her second-oldest brothers— twins— chorused as she entered the expansive events hall.
“Hello, motherfuckers,” (Y/n) greeted with a grin, which made a few heads turn to look at her, because of her language. Frankly, she couldn’t care less. She then hugged her brothers tightly and kissed their cheeks. “I haven’t seen you two in forever. How’s life in sunny Australia?”
“Really hot,” Yoshio, the older one of the twins, answered— fanning himself with his hand to emphasize his point.
“Lots of kangaroos,” Ren, the younger one of the two, piped up with a laugh. “Some even find their way on campus.”
“And you didn’t bring one for me? What kind of brothers are you?” (Y/n) asked with a chortle, before making eye contact with Yoshio. He hadn’t been trying to be discreet with his perusal of the faint scars that littered the backs of her hands.
With a brief shake of his head at his twin, Ren vocalized his thoughts, “It’s part of her job, bro. And haven’t you gotten used to seeing them on her already?”
Yoshio didn’t even have time to answer, because he was suddenly tackled in a hug from behind. The same happened to Ren, and (Y/n) just about laughed, only to be cut off when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her in a bear hug.
“Akio-nii!” (Y/n) managed to breathe past her lips, and her older brother set her down once more. She whirled around to face him, and was about to hit his chest with the back of her hand, when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head.
Out of all her siblings, she had to admit that she had always been the closest to Akio. They were the closest in age, but that played very little with their closeness. When their mother died a few years after Miko was born, Akio was the one who had doted on her. It was as if herself and her siblings had become self-sufficient once the matriarch of the house was gone.
The twins took care of Miko and Chiasa— which explained why the girls were clinging on to each of their brothers tightly. And while Akio took care of her, their eldest sibling— Masaru— served as their father figure, as their actual father was almost always away on business.
In line of birth order, it was Masaru, Akio, Yoshio and Ren, then her, which was followed by Chiasa, and last came Miko.
People were starting to stare at their sizeable group, but they paid the prying gazes no mind as they all caught up with each other’s lives.
“Where’s your boyfriend, (Y/n)-nee?” Chiasa asked aloud. Her curiosity wasn’t even veiled with any sort of pleasantry. It was plain as day that her younger sister wanted to meet this nonexistent boyfriend that Miko had been talking about.
“Boyfriend? There’s no such person?” (Y/n) answered with a glare at Miko. Her sister frantically shook her head and raised her hands up in mock surrender.
“It wasn’t me. It was Ren-nii that told me about it.” Miko replied in her defense.
All five pairs of eyes swiveled over to the man in question, who only balked before shaking his head. “It was otō-san. He told me you had a boyfriend.”
“But he left a message telling me that it was Miko who told him.” (Y/n) quirked her eyebrows at her sister, and then added, “Miko, tell the truth.”
“It really wasn’t me. I swear!” The youngest (L/n) pleaded earnestly, which made (Y/n) sigh and shake her head in mild irritation.
“(Y/n), there you are.” Masaru’s familiar voice rang out over the din of voices inside the ballroom. And all six of his siblings turned to look at him, as he crossed the room with an envelope in his hand. “Dad wants you to deliver the speech. Just read this. Come on, the program’s already starting.”
Her eldest brother didn’t give her much of a choice after that, as he took her by the wrist and dragged her over to where a stage was set up. She couldn’t even look over her shoulder to see their other siblings’ expressions, since she was too busy trying not to do a face plant on the floor.
It didn’t take long for her and Masaru to reach the side of the stage, where a lady in a pantsuit was waiting rather impatiently. She looked a bit frazzled already, so she didn’t want to add anymore to her stress. She knew what being under so much stress felt like, and she wasn’t going to be the reason why someone had a breakdown.
“I just need to read this, right?” (Y/n) snatched the envelope out of her brother’s hand.
“Yeah,” Masaru answered with a slight smile. He then wrapped his arms around his sister and pressed a kiss to the top of her head; which was an easy feat considering how tall he was. “Dad would do it, but he’s running a bit late. He said that he wants you to do it.”
That just sounded off to (Y/n), but she remained quiet. Now wasn’t the time for protests about taking over the company, or anything like that. If that wasn’t heavy implication coming from her father, then she didn’t know what was.
And with that, the lady with them explained her cues, before practically pushing her up the side stairs of the stage. She listened attentively to the host as he went on about useless drivel concerning the party, and then some of her background information, before finally introducing her to the crowd.
Gingerly, she made her way to the podium that was set up to the right side of the stage, and smiled at the crowd. She couldn’t exactly pick out who to smile at, since the spotlight practically blinded her, but she didn’t dwell on that fact as she opened the envelope and read through the speech that was written inside.
“What the fuck is this?” She whispered to herself, as she quickly skimmed through the contents of the speech. It sounded so impersonal and generic, even to her.
So, with a suppressed sigh of irritation, she folded the speech up and set it down on the podium. She reckoned that anything that came from her mouth would sound more sincere and personal than the drivel that was written in that letter.
“Good evening, everyone. It’s nice to see all of you celebrating with my family and I tonight,” (Y/n) began hesitantly, but eventually gathered up the courage to push through with her sudden change of plans. She just had to remember not to curse, and she would be good. “As all of you may know, Nanafumi was my parents’ dream fifty years ago. It used to be called Mochifumi, as my mother loved mochi very much. But it was changed around nineteen years ago, after my youngest sister was born. That made seven of us, hence Nana in the name, and Fumi— as in Fumiko, our mother.”
From the corner of her eye, (Y/n) saw her father enter through a side entrance by the stage. He even had the gall to grin and offer her two thumbs up, which made her chuckle and shake her head. Her old man had always been a sly one.
He had planned this; down to the shitty, pre-written speech.
***
To say that that speech had taken a lot out of (Y/n) would be the understatement of the century. She felt as if most of her energy was sapped the moment she got off that goddamned stage. And one measly glass of champagne wasn’t going to cut it; which was why she was already on her third one when he came up to her.
“That speech was quite something,” Sanemi hadn’t meant for his words to come out as mocking, but they had, and he already wanted to slap himself. Initially, he was surprised to find out that the lady that he had been so hard-up for at that restaurant was his boss’ boss’ boss’ daughter; but he had gotten over that initial shock and had carefully crafted a plan to get her to go home with him.
Or maybe even make out with him in a supply closet somewhere. Anything to get her to think about him enough to make her interested.
“Thank you, but… do I know you?”
Sanemi had to admit that the comment stung, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him from getting the (h/c) haired woman where he wanted her; preferably in his bed.
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For some, this entry may seem a little odd. All my other writings focus on the beasts and creatures of the wilds, species that roam the jungles, mountains and fields. Each entry a daring tale of majestic fauna and daunting adventures! Stories of bizarre encounters and incredible observations! Then all of a sudden I am here talking about simple livestock, how mundane! I would, however, ask that you stay with me and read on! For even the simplest of creatures and dullest of species can be a source of wonder and fascination! Yes, even mere livestock can lead to wonderful tales and moving messages! At least I think so. I am not really sure. What was I going on about again? Ah, right! Nectar Cows! Nectar Cows are large insects that share ties to the tiny, pesky aphids. It is honestly hard to believe at times that these creatures are even related! To think that something that is about the size of a cow can be so close to those little terrors! Oof, it is already making my bark itch thinking about them! Regardless, Nectar Cows belong to the same family, but have obviously gained some unique traits. As stated before, they have grown to massive sizes, rivaling that of an ox or bull! Despite this mass of theirs, they are herbivorous creatures who prefer grass, leaves and shoots. This leads to the next key difference, which is the fact that they have developed chewing mandibles. Other aphids have sucking mouthparts which are perfect for piercing the dermis of a plant and feeding on its juices (and perfect for being an absolute pest! I swear I could bathe in vinegar and still not be free of them!). Due to their large size, this type of feeding is a bit inefficient, so they go with the chewing route! With their mouths pointed downwards, Nectar Cows graze upon grass, brush and young plants, snipping them into bite sized pieces and pulverizing them in the back of their throats. They will also feed on vegetables and fruits that are on the ground, though they prefer ones that are more solid and crunchy. It seems that squishy, wet fruits are difficult for them to grab and chew without them falling back onto the ground. If you ever want to give a snack to a Nectar Cow, stick with things like apples, potatoes and carrots! They love those! Since they are grazing herbivores, Nectar Cows take life rather slowly. Their pace can be sluggish at times, and they never really seem to be in a hurry. All that matters to them is that there is food below them, and if there isn't, then it is time to take a few steps to a fresher patch. With such a slow lifestyle, one can imagine that they would be targets for predators. This is true, but Nectar Cows are not defenseless! First is their thick exoskeleton, which shields them from the front and top. Tooth and claw will have a difficult time piercing this sturdy armor, but crafty attackers may choose to approach from the bottom, going after the exposed abdomen. To help prevent that from happening, the Nectar Cow possesses specialized hind legs. As you may notice, these insects possess large, hooked claws on their back feet, which they use as weapons. When a foe attacks from behind, the Nectar Cow will hunker down with its front two pairs of legs and then kick back with their hind ones. This kick will cause the hooked claws to move in a slashing motion, which can slice into foes or even impale them. Those foolish enough to bother an agitated Nectar Cow may stumble away with a nasty gash, if they are lucky. Unfortunately, this defense only works for their rears and nowhere else. Fortunately, though, they have another tool at their disposal!
Due to their herbivorous ways, Nectar Cows encounter a lot of plants that do not wish to be eaten. There are plenty of species out there that contain bitter flavors, toxic sap and poisonous chemicals. This is meant to deter herbivores, but the Nectar Cow is not easily put off. They are capable of munching through these defenses without pause, taking these noxious juices and storing them in special sacs. These sacs are located all over their body, positioned right below their numerous siphuncule. These hard tubes can be found on their backs and all over their face plates, as they are positioned for defense! When a predator or unwelcome guest comes stalking close, the Nectar Cow will tighten its body and spray a misty cocktail of nasty fluids! Often this discharge is sharply bitter in smell and extremely nasty in taste. I once got hosed in the face with this mist of theirs and I can confirm it is quite disgusting! The taste is like if you took a copper piece, dipped it in a light acid and then stuck it in your mouth. Burning, sharp and somewhat metallic. I definitely would not recommend trying it! Often this spray is more than enough to scare away enemies, and it can even ward off the farmers who raise them! Thankfully, this spray is reliant on the food they eat, so wise farmers will feed them plants and vegetation that do not contain these foul fluids. The other thing to keep in mind is that this spray is not endless. They must eat to replenish their stocks, so if you bait them into discharging all their mist, then they cannot do again until they eat enough food. As you can probably tell from the name and the way I have talked about them, Nectar Cows are a domesticated species. So much so, that they pretty much came into existence through selective breeding and domestication. That's probably why they achieved such a large size! This large mass of theirs is perfect for their role as livestock, and they provide many products for those who raise them. The most obvious resource they create is their "nectar" or "honeydew," which is secreted from their abdomens (For clarification, "honeydew" is used by ants, while dryads prefer the term "nectar"). This yellowish fluid is sweet in flavor and is collected to be used as drink, cooking ingredient or sapling food. Think of it like the milk that comes from a mammalian cow, except that it is not totally repulsively fatty and horrendously curd- bluuugh, I can't even say it! Just the thought makes me want to hurl! How can people drink that stuff raw?! Anyways, this secreted nectar of theirs has made them popular with dryads and giant ants. In fact, it is believed that the giant ants were the first to begin the breeding of these insects, as their honeydew provided an efficient food source for them! Nectar Cows that are kept by giant ant colonies tend to be free-range, though they stay close to tunnel entrances. That way soldiers and workers can keep an eye on them and tear apart any predators that try to prey on their herd. While the ants allow their herds to graze on wild plants, they will supplement their diet with fungi that is grown in their underground farms. Any fungus that is not edible for the ants will be removed and given to the Nectar Cows so that no resources are wasted! How efficient! For dryads, Nectar Cows are often kept in pens at night and let out during the day to graze. During daylight hours is when they will collect the nectar, pouring it into buckets that are then bottled up and taken to market. This will be sold under the name "cow nectar" in order to differentiate between this fluid and the stuff that comes from plants. Due to its sugary content, the cow nectar is often used for baking desserts or sweetening up a dish. For dryad settlements that live in areas where Nectar Pod plants cannot properly grow, they will instead use cow nectar to feed sproutlings and saplings. It is an important source of nutrition for them at early stages, as they have not fully developed their stomachs. Cow nectar and other types of nectar are easy to digest and give them the fuel needed to grow! Good luck weaning them off it, though! That stage is a rough one to deal with! Besides nectar (or honeydew), these insects also provide food through their meat and eggs. The meat of a Nectar cow is quite juicy and has a hint of sweetness to it. It is often cut from their legs, thorax and abdomen, but careful butchery is needed! For meat that is carved from their abdomen, one needs to be sure to extract the sacs that contain their mist juices without puncturing them. One wrong move and your meat is now infused with a horrid bitterness and sharp metallic taste. That is why no one ever takes meat from their heads, as there are too many sacs to remove for it to be worth it. Due to its juiciness and texture, Nectar Cow meat is best shredded and added into a dish or soup. For dryads, it is a meat that works well on its own, but other species need extra seasonings and flavors to help tone down the sweetness. In non-dryad butcher shops, the flesh of a Nectar Cow is sold under the label "honey beef." Their eggs are also collected and sold as food, as Nectar Cows lay quite a lot of them! To insure survival, these insects can lay over a dozen of them at a time, which is a little much for one farmer to handle! To keep populations in check, the farmer will cull these eggs and sell a majority of them at market. These eggs are wonderful boiled whole or cracked open and baked! Some people swear that you can crack a raw one open and chug its contents, but I am a bit wary of that. They say it is a great pick me up and a quick source of nutrition, but that sounds way too much like a Floral Dryad thing for me to trust it. I have definitely heard that some of those crazy gals apply coats of that nasty mist fluid to their petals before bed, as it is supposed to create a healthy sheen. Pretty sure that is a load of garbage, because if that was true, Nectar Cow farmers would blind the entire town each time the sun came out. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ----------------------------------------- The Nectar Cow is one of the latest victims to the massive backlog. It is one of those wonderful moments where you draw something up, are happy with it, than have it get stuck waiting for months on end for posting, then at last its day comes and you realize that you hate it. Well wouldn't you know, the Nectar Cow came up for posting and I realized I didn't like its look anymore. This called for an emergency redraw, which I am happy with, but it makes me wonder what piece will be the next victim (too late, I already know!).
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Author: http://achieve-hams.tumblr.com
Recipient: http://wtfmrk.tumblr.com
Summary: King Jeremy finds himself lost and weak in the forest only to be saved by some townspeople. In this town, he learns about corruption, family, and loss. All the while missing his Ryan, who is trying to deal with Jeremy being gone. Who will believe who? Who trusts who? Does Jeremy even know his own people?
Warnings: Non-graphic violence, semi-graphic violence, vague mention of torture, mentions of blood
WordCount: 18,422
Jeremy’s feet could barely keep up with how fast his legs were moving. His feet kept catching on the underbrush and roots but his mind was too scrambled and exhausted to even acknowledge them or correct his mistakes as he kept moving.
Jeremy tripped and stumbled into a tree for what felt like the hundredth time. He quickly used what little strength he had to push off the tree and keep running. His leg caught on a prickly bush and it added another couple of scratches and wounds to his collection. Part of his brain wondered how much blood he could stand to lose before his legs gave out.
The rest of his brain was focused on keep running, keep moving and the more distance you put between you and them, the harder you are to hit.
The second part sounded an awful lot like Michael.
Jeremy was panting hard. Trying to remember to keep breathing as even as possible as he ran but he was just so exhausted. The mix of not eating anything since this morning and not having any water combined with the slow bleeding was doing nothing to help him.
Jeremy slowed down a fraction and tried to listen. He couldn’t hear any more creepers chasing him, the clomps of their feet having died out, but he could still faintly hear the clack-clack of the skeletons. Jeremy thought it was safe to slow down some.
Then he felt an arrow whiz right by his head. He took off in a sprint again.
Jeremy felt like he could cry. He just wanted this to be over! Why wouldn’t they LEAVE HIM ALONE! GODDAM-
Jeremy’s foot caught on a tree root and stumbled again. Except this time, instead of being able to push off a tree or quickly get off the ground, he kept stumbling and rolling. He hit every body part imaginable on rocks and branches. He felt his skin being torn into by branches and bushes. The hill felt never-ending.
And then he landed hard on solid ground. Jeremy was staring at the sky. It was cloudy out.
Jeremy didn’t know if he had hit his head so hard he couldn’t hear anymore or if he finally got away from the skeletons.
He told himself he was going to get up and find out, but then he heard voices and fast footsteps. And everything went black.
-
Jeremy felt like he was floating as he looked at Ryan. He was smirking at him from his horse as he ate an apple. Ryan was able to reach from the tall apple trees better than Jeremy, even though he was on a horse. Jeremy glared back at Ryan when he laughed at Jeremy trying to stretch to get one.
Jack was busy watching Michael and Gavin playfully joust at each other as they ran circles around Geoff; who was less than happy to be in the middle of their antics.
Ryan shook his head at them, barely jostling his crown, before throwing an apple at Jeremy which he quickly caught without fumbling it. Jeremy stuck out his tongue childishly at him before he bit into the apple.
Then, Jeremy felt a sharp and sudden pain in his shoulder.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
Jeremy felt himself fall sideways off his horse and hit the ground on the shoulder where the pain was. Jeremy cried out and looked to see an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. He tried to roll onto his back but that just pushed the arrow in more and he cried out again. He saw his crown roll off into the dirt next to the side of his head as he tried to look around.
That’s when they all heard them. Creepers and skeletons. They were about to be stuck in between a fight.
He could hear Geoff telling them all to run back to the castle. He could also hear everyone drawing their weapons. Jeremy quickly reached up and snatched his bag off his horse before she got spooked and ran. Jeremy forced himself to stand up and start to run.
He didn’t realize he was running in the wrong direction until he heard Ryan’s shouts for his name become quieter and the sound of creepers and skeletons chasing him become louder.
Jeremy!
“Jeremy.”
-
The first time Jeremy remembered waking up, he wasn’t alone. There was a girl asleep in a chair next to him.
He was laying on a less than soft bed with two blankets covering him. Besides the chair which the girl sat on, there was a desk with notebooks and papers scattered everywhere on it, a small dresser, and what Jeremy recognized as his potions bag resting on top.
Jeremy sat up as quietly as he could, wincing the whole way. He simultaneously felt well rested and fucking exhausted.
Jeremy knew he wasn’t in his castle or any castle for that matter. There were many cues for this. The fact that the room (house?) was made of wood and not stone was the main one. Along with being able to see the forest clearly through the window and there being no noise besides the girl breathing next to him.
He looked down to see he was shirtless beside the bandages wrapping around his left shoulder and mid-section. He also had a splint on his right wrist. Jeremy tugged off the covers gently to see he thankfully still had pants on (not his own, he noticed), but there were bandages peeking out from the holes in them.
The thing that scared Jeremy the most was not remembering what happened to gain all of these wounds and where he was. The last thing he remembered was trying to sneakily kiss Ryan without falling off his horse and before the other yelled at them to stop being gross and catch-up.
Before Jeremy’s mind could run away with the possibilities that could have happened to him, the girl woke up.
“You’re awake!” she shouted as she sat up properly.
Jeremy flinched hard at her tone, not realizing how much his head hurt in the silence of the room. He hit his bandaged shoulder on the wall as he flinched which made him cry out.
“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!” She quickly scrambled out of the chair and onto the bed, her eyes wide with panic as she tried to look over the bandages to see if anything was bleeding again.
“I didn’t mean to scare you but you just looked so aware this time, I got excited.” The girl was smiling at him now but she was a little too close for Jeremy’s comfort.
"Where..." Jeremy's voice was weak but the girl understood what he was trying to ask.
"Where are we? Well, that might be hard –"
"Marissa!" The door banged open to reveal a man with a scowl on his face, but the effects were damped by how carefully he was holding a bowl of soup.
They both jumped but the girl – Marissa – looked over a glared back.
"He's not a prisoner, Jared."
Jeremy hadn’t even thought of that.
"He's right Mari, let us question him before answering anything." An older woman pushed Jared out of the way. "It's only fair since he owes us for patching him up."
Jared glare shifted to the women after he stumbled and spilt the soup on his hand, but it had a more playful tone.
"Mama," Marissa whined.
"No Mari. We’re going to feed this man some soup and water then find out where all those fancy clothes came from.”
Jeremy suddenly felt as though he was the farthest away from the castles as he could ever get.
The woman came over with a pitcher of what Jeremy presumed was water and poured out a glass before handing it to him with a slight tremor in her hands.
Jeremy sniffed it before drinking, something Ryan had told him to do when taking drinks from strangers. You never know who would want to kill a king.
Jeremy’s heart panged painfully. He needed to figure out how to get back to them, to Ryan. He needed to find out where he was.
“Please,” Jeremy’s voice was stronger now that he had a drink. “just tell me where I am and then I’ll answer any questions you have.”
Jared dropped the soup loudly on the desk next to him, making Jeremy jump again.
“’Red, calm down. The boy must be frightened,” the woman said as she sat down in the chair Marissa was sitting in before. She nodded once at Marissa.
“We’re a very small town outside of the city of Vila, we technically don’t exist but anything is better than living under the General,” Marissa said the last part quietly and Jeremy knew there was a story there.
Jeremy also had a feeling this ‘General’ wasn’t someone good.
“We’re in the Dooley Kingdom, but we found you on the border of Ramsey’s four days ago. We’re just on the edge of the forest.”
Jeremy let out a sigh of relief, “The Royal Forest,” he confirmed. It was a deep forest that went right through the middle of Geoff’s kingdom and spilt into his. It would explain the quiet and it meant they weren’t too far from the castles.
“No,” Jared sneered. “The Forest of Creation.”
Jeremy felt his heart drop to his stomach.
“The Forest of Creation!” Jeremy exclaimed, “that was walled off before I even be –”
Jeremy stopped. These people didn’t recognize him. They said they were in his kingdom but they’re are treating him like a common person. If they don’t recognize me, maybe it’s best to hold off on the truth for now.
“Before I moved to the castle region, I mean,” Jeremy finished, hoping they would mistake his slip-up for the fact he hit his head hard enough to scramble it.
“So you are a noble,” Marissa said with wonder and she leaned closer.
“Yes, they call me Sir Tim. I work closely with Mage Kdin under King Ramsey.” Jeremy patted himself on the back for being able to come up with a believable lie so quickly.
“One,” Jared said, holding up on a finger, “You told us your name was Jeremy when we were trying to get that arrow out of your shoulder,” he held up a second finger, “Two, I thought Mage Kdin was just a bedtime story. I mean, someone having to help the kings defeat a dragon? Unless they really are that incompetent, which is more believable than some girl helping the kings.”
Jeremy didn’t know people didn’t believe Kdin’s story, still, he felt a flare of annoyance on her part for someone not appreciating her genius. Also at the incompetence comment, but he held it down.
“One,” Jeremy imitated Jared with the fingers, “My name is Jeremy Timulous. Two, Kdin is real and yes, she did help the Kings defeat the dragon. They are just people ya know?”
Marissa giggled at Jared’s pissed off expression and Jeremy just smirked.
“I have to go actually take care of people, so good day, Sir Tim,” Jared said with the most un-respectful tone he could manage.
He slammed the door in the way out making the older woman sigh.
“You can call me Mina, child,” she said, “I’m the unfortunate mother of these those two.”
Jeremy cracked a smile as Marissa let out an indignant “Mama!”
“So, tell me, Jeremy, what’s your real job?” Mina leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees, staring at Jeremy with an all-knowing expression.
Jeremy froze and glanced at Marissa who looked back with a smirk.
“Just because Jared doesn’t like the kings and doesn’t want the children learning about them, doesn’t mean that we,” Marissa gestured to her and her mother, “don’t at least know what you look like, King Dooley.”
“How,” Jeremy said, royally confused.
“Mari and I went to sneak some books from the city for the children one day when we saw your coronation being played by a seer.”
“These two years you’ve been king have not been kind to you,” Mari teased with a giggle.
“Hey, being a king is a stressful job!” Jeremy shot back, but he was hardly containing his smile too.
“Alright children, don’t get too loud. Jeremy is safer if the town thinks he’s a noble, not our king,” Mina said.
Jeremy and Mari both nodded.
“When I was learning about my kingdom,” Jeremy said after a moment of silence, “I was informed that all cities and towns within a hundred-mile radius were being evacuated and there was going to be a wall built and reinforced with magic. I was told there was no one out here. All the kings were told there was no one left out here.”
“The only wall there was one of made of people,” Mari muttered angrily. The change of mood in the room was almost visible.
“The was the plan, yes,” Mina said, “but the dates kept being pushed back over and over until we all realized no one was coming for us. No wall was being built, no one was going to save us from those creatures.”
“I don’t understand!” Jeremy cried, “All the kingdoms sent supplies and people out here! When they came back they said the job was done, the refugees were safely distributed throughout the kingdoms. Almost all of my advisors oversaw this!”
“They lied,” Mari snapped. “None of you ever came out here! No troops, no advisors, and especially not someone who people say is the Kind King!”
Marissa was on her feet, breathing heavily as she stared him down.
Jeremy gripped the blanket in his hands tightly.
“The Forest of Creation lies in my kingdom, I was responsible. I stayed up day and night writing letters to all of the families that reportedly survived,” he whispered. “I had the other kings send stuff too. Potions, comfort animals, building supplies, farming equipment, seeds, solar energy…”
Jeremy looked between Mina and Mari, desperate for either of them to say something, anything. Tell him that he wasn’t lied to since his coronation, that these people don’t think he’s a monster, that this is all some prank that he’s gonna beat Michael and Gavin up for later.
Mari balled her fists up and looked at the floor. Jeremy saw a few tears fall.
“All we got was the royal guard beating people in submission and the General forcing everyone under his command, telling us this is the new king wanted.”
With that last statement, the one that shocked all of the emotion of Jeremy, she left slamming the door just like her brother.
Jeremy turned his eyes to his lap, his hands went slack and just rested there as Mina sighed. Jeremy had too many thoughts buzzing around his head, he couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t hear, his eyes were unseeing.
The next time Jeremy looked up, Mina was gone too.
-
When Jeremy was first old he was going to become the new king of what was previously the Burns Kingdom, he thought it was a joke.
Burnie Burns was the last surviving king of the group that unified the kingdoms. Before the kingdoms were united, there was war. It was a constant thing, but no one ever knew why they were fighting. It was almost like people were born with a hatred for any king other than their own. Kings Heyman, Burns, Sorola, and Hullum had unified all four kingdoms by bringing peace between the kings and their people.
Since they were unified, four kingdoms became six. There was too much land in the Sorola and Burns Kingdoms that in an effort to make all of the kingdoms more equal, two more kingdoms were to be created and two new kings would begin their legacy.
King Ramsey and King Pattillo were the first to be crowned. In the years following their coronation, Heyman was assassinated by an advisor of Hullum’s that still held a distaste for other kings, even after the war. King Haywood, Heyman’s appointed heir, stepped into his place and quickly taken under the wing of Ramsey and Pattillo.
Years later, Sorola and Hullum were killed in a nether mining explosion. Mage Kdin went on to discover that it was the dragon’s fault as King Free and King Jones took over. Plans to find and destroy the dragon began immediately.
The Kings were concerned for Burns’ mental state and physically being, so they made Burns appoint announce his heir publicly, so they would have someone from each kingdom fighting.
Jeremy knew he was the heir, but while Burns was getting older, Jeremy thought he still had years until he was to become king. An heir is not someone who holds blood relation to a king, but someone that the king has a close relationship with and trusts the people in their hands. Heirs were to be written in a king’s will and will not be announced to the public until a king has died, to reduce the risk of attempts on the heir’s life.
Jeremy had known since he was eighteen that he was going to be an heir. What he didn’t know was that Burns was going to have a heart attack while they were off fighting the dragon. Jeremy came back to teary eyes telling him that Burns was dead, there was more activity than ever in the Forest of Creation, and that the people were awaiting their king.
Jeremy was twenty-two when he became king. The youngest person to ever be a king.
Coming off the high of helping defeat the dragon and the after-effects of the journey along with all the preparations for his coronation left Jeremy feeling helpless.
It wasn’t until King Haywood showed up with his most trusted staff came to the kingdom to give condolences did Jeremy start to feel better. King “call me Ryan for fuck's sake” Haywood took over in helping Jeremy learn about his kingdom and make a stronger defense plan for the Forest.
Ryan, having lived in Burns kingdom until he was twenty-four, moving to the Heyman kingdom to study potions and work under mages afterwards, was still very knowledge on the Burns kingdom and its people.
With Ryan’s help, they created a plan to fortify the wall around the forest with magic. Jeremy was so fascinated with Ryan’s skills that they quickly become closer and closer, as Ryan spent four months in the Burns kingdom teaching Jeremy about how to be a king. By the end of those four months, Jeremy was crowned and the Dooley Kingdom was born.
Jeremy quickly won over the hearts of the children and young people of his kingdom with his potions work, which had become impressive. Ryan said he never saw someone take to potions so fast before; even Kdin had complimented him on it and offered to be a more permanent teacher to him once Ryan went home.
Getting all the older people to like him was more difficult. He spent most of his celebration party discussing policy with the older people and his nobles for how he was going to take care of the kingdom for as long as he was alive. He also told almost every story and joke knew to regular shopkeepers and labor workers to start a relationship with everyone.
He had slowly snuck out of the party once everyone had a smile on their face and all of the nobles and some of the other kings were drunk off their asses.
Jeremy plopped down the balcony of the library and let his head fall back against the wall, breathing out a shaky sigh as he closed his eyes
He wished Burns was still here, still king. He wished he had years to learn all about how to be a king, not a few months. To be thrust into kingship amidst a panic in the outer cities was taking a toll on him. Having to deal with becoming king unexpectedly, trying to gain the support of his people, and trying to deal with a crisis that is resulting in lost lives made him feel like he was doing the impossible.
“Want some company?” a voice asked.
Jeremy opened his eyes and turned his head to see Ryan standing there holding two glasses, one in offering. Jeremy nodded and stuck out his hand to grab a glass as Ryan sat down too.
“These parties are hellish enough without the added looming thought about the Forest and everyone asking ‘what’s your plan?’,” Ryan said it like it was a question but was also an answer to an unspoken question.
“Yeah.” Jeremy sipped his glass then coughed immediately. “This isn’t wine.” He looked at Ryan accusatorily.
Ryan laughed. His face was perfectly illuminated by the moonlight and his laugh sounded like the most beautiful thing in the world. Jeremy felt speechless around him because of his looks, his voice, his mind.
“Felt like you could use a pick-me-up. I’d drink slowly if I were you,” Ryan frowned thoughtfully, “at least that’s what Geoff says.”
“You’re not drinking the same thing?” Jeremy asked.
“Fuck no,” Ryan laughed, “Alcohol is nasty. I’m more of a syrup water kinda guy.”
“Doesn’t that shit kill you?” Jeremy felt himself smiling and laughing along with Ryan.
“Not as fast as that will,” he said gesturing to Jeremy’s glass with a smirk.
Jeremy shook his head and put his glass down on the other side of him. When he looked back at Ryan, he felt like he was a thousand times closer. Ryan stared right into his eyes, smiling softly.
“You’re doing great, Jeremy. The rest of the kings think so too,” he said, “They wanted to come see you but they didn’t want to interrupt your studies or your bonding time your people.”
Jeremy felt his breath hitch.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Jeremy meant it on multiple levels. One, he was glad he didn’t have to deal with trying to befriend kings during his studying and two, it reassured him that they didn’t come see him tonight because they hated him or something.
“Trying to befriend a king during this time would have been hard.” He settled on.
“You seem to do just well with me,” Ryan said, smirking slightly.
“Yeah, well, you're different,” Jeremy could feel himself blushing.
“Oh?” Ryan was full on smirking now and leaned in more.
Jeremy cleared his throat.
“Yeah, you’re way more fascinating than anyone else in these kingdoms.” It was Jeremy's turn to smirk as Ryan looked startled.
What Jeremy did next, he would blame on all the wine people had shoved down his throat all evening, but as time went one, he knew he made the right choice.
Jeremy leaned in and kissed Ryan. The only noise for the next few minutes was Ryan’s cup hitting the ground as Ryan pulled Jeremy into his lap.
-
Jeremy felt more than physical pain once the buzzing stopped. Taking a trip down memory lane did nothing helpful. It just reminded him of how he was lied to by people he trusted and how much he missed Ryan.
Jeremy’s eyes caught his bag at the other end of the room. Jeremy was both glad and sad that it’s his potions bag. The potions could be helpful, and it was given to him by Ryan, but he has no idea where his personal bag ended up.
Jeremy winced as he shifted his legs to move off the side of the bed. It felt like an eternity once his feet hit the ground and he was already panting. Jeremy reached out to grip the chair that still sat next to his bed and pulled it towards him. Jeremy used it to pull himself up into a standing position while leaning on the back of the chair. He dragged the chair across the floor and used it as a walker and carefully stepped forwards one foot at a time, gripping the chair in an iron grip. Push the chair forward, take one step, take another. Repeat.
Jeremy finally reached the dresser as he knees buckled. He half hung on the dresser and tried to straighten his legs again without pulling too much on his bandages. He got himself into a leaning position on shaky legs as he blindly rummaged in his bag.
After pulling out an invisibility potion and a damage potion, he finally found the one he was looking for. A potion of regeneration. It worked better on a full stomach, but there was no way he could trust the soup. The smell of poison could be masked by the meat and vegetables.
The potion would work, but he would still be sore next time he woke up.
Jeremy popped the cork and downed it right before his legs gave out underneath him.
-
“You know this whole thing works better if you actually show up for the date.”
Jeremy was leaning against the doorframe watching Ryan hunched over a bunch of books and papers, occasionally making notes.
Ryan startled when he heard Jeremy’s voice. He looked at Jeremy without really looking at him before he rubbed his eyes and looked at him again.
“What?” he mumbled.
“Our date?” Jeremy asked. “At the gardens?”
“Shit,” Ryan said, looking around frantically. “Wasn’t that tomorrow night?”
Jeremy suddenly felt concerned. How long has Ryan been here? Has he eaten or drank anything?
“Ryan,” he said moving forward to stand next to the table. They were in Ryan’s private study. A small little room filled with his most prized and favorite books with a single desk in the middle.
“What’s the day and time?”
“It’s Friday, sometime in the afternoon, right?” Ryan looked adorably confused and Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh and kiss him on the top of his head.
“It’s Saturday, almost midnight,” he said into Ryan’s hair.
“Our date,” Ryan gasped. He turned to look at Jeremy apologetically.
“It’s okay, Michael and Gavin found me wandering and took me out for bevs,” Jeremy paused, “Well, it was more of them sucking face between arguments and me being the referee and then drinking to forget.”
“Sounds about right. That’s usually Geoff’s job,” Ryan said softly and cuddled back into Jeremy.
“No wonder he was so happy that I became friends with them.” Ryan laughed along with him.
“I’m sorry about our date,” Ryan said after a moment of silence.
“It’s alright.” Jeremy paused again, “You can make it up to me by telling me what you were working on.”
Ryan perked up suddenly and reached for a paper. Jeremy stopped him before he could get too excited.
“Tomorrow. Right now, I want to sleep in your glorious bed.”
They stumbled out of the study laughing.
-
Jeremy woke up in bed. With a note right next to his head.
“Next time you fall, I’m not picking you back up. Asshole.”
Jeremy could only assume it was from Jared. Unless Mari was truly that upset with him. Nevertheless, it sounded so much like something the guys would say it made it heart hurt all over again.
Jeremy sat up and noticed that he barely even felt any pain. He gently took the splint on his left arm, then pulled the bandage on his shoulder. He rolled his shoulder back and forth to get the stiffness out but still felt a twinge of pain. He unwound the bandages around his stomach and folded them up again. He noticed a few scars this lingering. Jeremy threw the blanket off and pulled his pant legs off to inspect his legs. There was also still scarring there, and his right leg still held pain.
After taking all the bandages off he shuffled out of the bed again to stand up. His leg felt more on fire now that he put weight on it. Jeremy limped to the door and tried his best not to put too much weight on his leg.
He gently opened the door and peered around. He could hear sounds coming from outside, but the house was quiet. He limped out into the common room and looked around. The front door was to his left. He could see shadows moving beyond the curtains. He looked around a spotted another door.
Jeremy hobbled over and opened it. It was the back door. It led out onto a small porch with a few chairs. There was a fire pit a little way away from the chairs on the grass.
He felt a little awkward wandering around without a shirt and someone’s old pants, but the fresh air and cool breeze felt much nicer than that stuffy, hot room.
His eyes caught the edge of the forest and he walked towards it. It wasn’t too far away from the back edge of the house. There would be no mobs around the edge during the day due to the sunshine, but a quick glance around confirmed there were no defenses up. How were these people surviving the night?
Jeremy turned around and looked back to the town. There was a sizable number of houses that circled around a huge open area filled with people and other equipment. There were a few animals roaming and a group of kids surrounding two women. It looked almost like an outdoor class.
Jeremy could see more buildings past the main circle on the far side. The town built out away from the Forest. The closest out to it was Mina’s.
Nobody noticed Jeremy at the moment, but he knew he was going to have to make his way into town. He couldn’t survive in the forest. He couldn’t run. He needed to take more regeneration if he was going to go anywhere, but he needed food, or side effects were going to start kicking in.
Jeremy sighed and made the trek back to the house’s back door. He stepped up on the porch and opened the door. He closed it behind him and looked up just in time to see an unfamiliar blonde woman open the front door holding some papers.
“Yo, Jared!” she called while still looking down at her papers, “We needed you for the meeting ten –”
She looked up and froze. So did Jeremy.
“Who are you?” she asked coldly.
“Jeremy. I’m a noble that Jared rescued after I fell down a hill and badly injured myself.” There was no point in lying or making things worse. He already had a story, he should stick to it.
“Jared hasn’t mentioned any noble.” She spits out the word noble. “How long have you been here?”
“Five days,” he said.
She crossed her arms.
“Yet, you don’t look badly injured.”
“I used a potion.” he said quickly and truthfully, again.
“Potion?” she asked incredulously, “Shit you must be a noble.”
Jeremy stopped dead. Potions weren’t something rare. There are thousands of different potions sold in common stores. How long haven’t these people had access to what the rest of the kingdoms regarded as regular commodities?
“What’s your name?” he asked instead, after a moment of silence.
The woman considered him for a second before answering reluctantly, “Jenkins.”
“Well, Jenkins,” Jeremy smiled naturally, “It’s nice to see a new face.”
“You don’t act like a noble,” Jenkins huffed, crossing her arms. The papers she was holding crinkled a bit but she paid them no mind. She looked him up and down. “You certainly don’t look like one either.”
“We're not all assholes, neither do we all dress like snobby assholes.” Jeremy figured she didn’t need to know Ryan’s gaudy clothes or Michael’s fur coat.
Jenkins let out a giggle at Jeremy’s playful tone.
“You seem alright, Jeremy. Why have they been holding you up in here?” she asked. “Unless you’re not telling the truth, Jared has no reason to hide you away like a prisoner.”
“Why do you care?”
“I’m responsible for keeping the people in the know.” She paused. “And I intend to do just that.”
With finality, she quickly turned on her heel and opened the door. She glanced back at Jeremy. “Coming?”
Jeremy limped forward quickly as If she would change her mind. He was both excited and nervous about meeting more of these people. He wanted to help if they had a problem, but they were obviously wary of royal people.
Jeremy was fascinated as he stepped out. Jenkins closed the door behind them as Jeremy looked around. The kids he saw before were now sitting around a girl with fiery red hair. It looked like she was telling a story about fighting something. There were crops that Jeremy couldn’t see from the edge of the forest. They didn’t look like they could sustain everyone if all the buildings around housed people.
“We’re not much,” Jenkins said, looking around, too. “But we survive.”
“Is there a chance I could talk to whoever is in charge,” Jeremy asked. He spoke again before she could answer. “Preferably not Jared alone.”
“Jared is one of the leaders, yes. But you’ve probably figured out that we aren’t in favor of royalty, so we have a group that makes decisions primarily. But everyone is free so to speak.”
“Could you get me an audience with this group?”
Jenkins sighed.
“Is that a no?” Jeremy didn’t want to think about what would happen if he couldn’t reason with these people. Would he make it home? Would this town survive? Jeremy knew something bad was happening. That someone – no, a few someone’s �� were meddling with the way his kingdom was being run. People were lying for their own gain and hurting his people. Who could he trust when he got back? If he got back?
Before Jeremy could get into his own head, Jenkins answered his questions.
“Theoretically, yes. But five days here, I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out how Jared is.” Jenkins side-glanced him and raised an eyebrow.
Jeremy nodded slightly back.
“Come on,” Jenkins said as she stepped off the porch.
Jeremy followed hesitantly but no one seemed to care who he was. No one glanced in his direction more than once. They all must have assumed that he was just helping Jenkins with something. Jeremy assumed she was important.
He still kept his head down just in case someone either recognized him. He couldn’t help glancing around at everything. There were the crops again. He sure hoped they had more because they looked in bad shape. He picked his head to keep looking around.
These people live this close to the forest but don’t have any protections?
He stopped dead as he caught glimpse of a group involved in what looked like a sparring match. They had strong weapons but the way they were fighting showed they had no idea what they were doing. The oddest thing was, they people on the sidelines were cheering like it was the best fight they had ever seen.
“Jeremy,” Jenkins said.
Jeremy looked forward to see her a few yards in front of him. He nodded and glanced back at everything before following with a sense of dread in his heart.
-
“What is he doing here!” Jared shouted as soon as Jenkins opened the door. They were one the second story of a building tucked away between a few empty ones. Jeremy was still confused about how many people actually lived here.
“I found your dirty little secret, Jared,” Jenkins smirked.
Everyone else in the room looked confused. Jeremy looked around to see Mina and Mari among them. Mari tipped her head in his direction while Mina smiled brightly at him.
“Miss Mina sent me to get you after you decided to be late to the meeting.”
Jeremy smiled back at Mina when he realized what she did. Jeremy tipped his head in gratification and he saw Mari send a smirk to her brother.
“He’s not a secret,” Jared growled. “He’s a danger.”
“What is going on?” A woman with blonde hair stood up.
“I’m not a danger,” Jeremy addressed the room. “I’m a noble under King Ramsey. Jared found me hurt at the bottom of a hill. I’ve been here a few days. Look –” Jeremy tried to get straight to the point but Jared cut him off.
“No, you look,” he growled again. “I will not have someone noble come in here and run this town.”
“Well, clearly you aren’t doing it well enough!” Jeremy shouted. It felt weird, but he was just so angry at the fact that these are his people and they are at risk.
“You have no protections up! No defenses! The only thing you have going for you is all the lights. But that won’t keep the creatures away forever. They will adapt.” The whole room was silent like they knew this already but didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“Not the mention your poor fighting ability or your crops that will die within the week.”
“What wrong with our crops?” Mari asked.
“And our fighters?” the blonde woman also asked.
“Your crops are planted wrong and aren’t being taken care of correctly. They need to be planted where they can get sunlight all day. Where they’re positioned, their sunlight gets cut off during midday because of how close they are to the buildings. The ground around them also needs to be taken care of and could probably use some nourishment from herb spells.”
“Spells?” a man asked not looking up from where he was writing everything Jeremy said on a piece of paper.
“Yeah, do you have anyone who has practiced magic before?”
“Yes,” Jenkins answered at the same time Jared said “no.”
“Well?” Jeremy asked, looking between them.
“Not someone who has actively practiced, but she can do more than she thinks.”
“Perfect, I can help her,” Jeremy said.
“No,” Jared said more forcefully.
“What about our fighters?” the blonde woman asked again. “Could you teach them how to fight better?”
“And tell us what to do with defenses?” a burly man with a beard asked.
“Yes!” Jeremy exclaimed. “Do you know how to build?”
“Yes, I have a few people that can help too.”
“Perfect,” Jeremy said. He pushed down the thought that he looked and acted so much like jack.
“Not perfect,” Jared said angrily. “You have no right to make decisions here.”
“Jared’s right,” agreed another man. A few more nodded.
And just like that, a fight broke out. They were people shouting in Jeremy’s defense and others shouting against. Jeremy didn’t even know where to begin to help break this up. Royal discussions were never like this. There was always a hint of playfulness, but he detected none with these people. They were at their wit's end.
“Come on,” Jenkins whispered in his ear and tugged on his arm.
She pulled him out of the room and he saw Mina and Mari sneak out before the door shut. The four of them were silent as they made their way downstairs and down the street.
“I still have a say in the town, and I say you are free to do whatever you need to help us survive. And I will do what it takes to get you back to the castles,” Mina said, staring at Jeremy with such fierce determination.
“Thank you,” Jeremy said sincerely.
“Mari, Ash, get Meg and Coe. I’ll get Adam and Barb. We’ll meet at our place at 5, Mari.” Mina barely waited for them to nod before turning and walking back to the meeting building.
“Ash?” Jeremy questioned when they started walking again.
“Ashley,” Jenkins said as she turned to walk backwards and held her hand out.
Jeremy shook it and smiled. Ashley turned back around to walk forward.
“How the hell are you up and walking?” Mari asked poking at his shoulder.
“Potions of regeneration does wonders,” Jeremy supplied. He poked her in the stomach to get back at her.
“Damn,” Mari whispered and shook her head.
“Language,” Ashley said. Mari scoffed as Ashley spoke again.
“Meg is the person I was talking about.”
“The person who knows about magic?” Jeremy half skipped to be next to her again. He noticed, gratefully, that his limp was gone.
“I used to work with her back in Vila.”
“The city under the General,” Mari supplied from behind them.
“Yeah,” she nodded, “She always had her nose in a book about magic or was looking for papers about Mage Kdin. She knows everything about magic but never thought she could do it.” She paused. “She can do it,” she said forcefully.
“Jeremy works under Mage Kdin,” Mari said as she walks faster to be on the other side of Jeremy.
“Really?” Ashley asked, looking at him.
“Yeah,”
“We might have more a chance than I thought.”
“Let’s hope that’s true,” Jeremy said softly.
“Why? Got someone back home?” Mari teased. She bumped his shoulder which made him bump into Ashley.
Jeremy’s apology was on the tip of his tongue but Ashley beat him to it but bumping him back which sent him tumbling into Mari who bumped into another girl walking.
Ashley started giggling as Mari jumped around to apologize to the person she almost knocked over. But she stopped and whirled back around to glare at Ashley.
“You saw Meg walking towards us when I bumped Jeremy, so you knew exactly what you were doing!” she accused.
Ashley continued to giggle but Jeremy paid no attention. Meg was the girl with fiery hair he saw with the children. Up close he noticed her hair was red, but the fiery effect he thought was just the sun shining through it, was actually her aura.
-
“My what-a?” Jeremy asked looking between Ryan and Kdin from where he was sat in Ryan’s study.
“Aura,” Ryan laughed.
“To put it simply, people who have an aura can practice magic. One can create an aura, but it won’t be as powerful as someone who was born with it,” Kdin answered.
“But what is it?” Jeremy was feeling more and more confused every time they spoke.
“We don’t really know, but it’s been theorized to be a sort of personification of one’s magic being.”
“Magic being?”
“The part of you that can do magic,” Ryan answered this time. “Different parts of our brains have different functions or control different things. Our aura is like an extension of our brain.”
“You said people can create their own?” Jeremy asked turning to Kdin who was casually leaning against the table.
“Yes, creating an aura causes a great amount of stress on one’s brain but it can be done. you can usually tell by looking at a person’s aura whether or not it’s developed or created.”
“Wait, you can see aura?” Jeremy’s head was starting to hurt.
“Yes,” Kdin rolled her eyes, “that’s why we're’ talking to you.”
“Developed aura’s are usually warm colors, while created aura’s are usually cold. The brighter they are, the more powerful.” Ryan answered.
“Ryan’s is a bright yellow, mine’s apparently bright pink, and you’re is a dim green. No offense, but we almost didn’t know it at first,” Kdin said.
“I’ll assume I can’t see my own so why can’t I see yours?”
“It depends on knowledge and experience,” Ryan said. “How much do you actually know about magic?” he teased.
Jeremy frowned.
“And that,” Kdin said leaning forward with a smile, “is where I come in.”
-
“Jeremy, you okay?” Mari asked.
He had been staring at Meg for an uncomfortable amount of time but she was looking at him with the same expression of wonder.
“Yeah,” he said, not taking his eyes off her aura. It was just so bright.
“Ashley said you knew a lot about magic?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Meg forced herself to look at Jeremy’s eyes and not around his head. Jeremy picked up on this immediately.
“Do you see it?” he almost whispered.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling now, “I’ve never seen one before. I only read about it.”
“What are you two talking about?” Mari asked, looking confused. Ashley had the same look, but also one of interest.
“Yours is bright red,” Jeremy said. Meg smiled for a second before frowning.
“The brighter the color…” she trailed off.
“The more powerful,” Jeremy finished.
Meg gasped as she looked at him with wide eyes.
“But I can’t,” she tried to say before Ashley cut her off.
“You can continue your weirdness later, we need to get Coe if we’re gonna make it to the place on time,” Mari said exasperatedly.
“Coe should be letting his class out soon,” Meg said absently.
Ashley nodded and put her hand on her back to get her walking. Jeremy sent a smile in Meg’s direction but didn’t say more. She needed time to process this on her own.
Mari just rolled her eyes and grabbed Jeremy’s arm to pull him forward.
-
“Coe!” Ashley shouted as they got closer to the makeshift fighting grounds he saw before.
A man with his arms crossed who was standing outside the ring of people looked over. Ashley tilted her head in the direction of another abandoned shop. He nodded and turned back to the group.
“Dismissed for today! Remember what I said about fighting outside training!” he yelled as Jeremy followed the rest into the little shop.
Coe jogged over to them and closed the door behind him.
“What’s up?” he said crossing his arms and looking from Ashley to Meg. Meg seemed in a better state now but she was still quiet.
“How many times have you begged Barbara for a better regimen for your fighters?” Ashley asked getting to the point.
“Thousands. You know I’m not teaching them squat,” he replied. He glanced at Jeremy question. “Is he my solution?”
“I know how to fight like the royal guards,” Jeremy responded, “And I know how to fight dirty against royal guards.”
“I thought you were a noble?” Ashley asked.
“Noble?” Coe whisper yelled at her.
“Everyone who works in the castle has to have a semblance of defense training. The more important your job, the more training you have to receive. I work very closely with Mages and sometimes the kings. I know how to defend myself and others.” Jeremy was trying to convince Coe that he was capable. “It also helps that on slow days some of us go and spar with guards in training to help them improve.”
Coe was silent for a minute.
“How much did you know about what was going on out here?” he asked. His tone was guarded.
“Tyler,” Meg said softly for the first time.
“Meg –”
“None of it,” Jeremy said.
Meg, Ashley, and Coe all abruptly stopped. Mari sighed.
“Way to spill the beans dipshit,” she muttered.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Ashley demeaned.
“I mean nobody knows,” Jeremy said, ignoring Mari. “Well nobody that would care,” he amended.
“Not even the kings?” Coe asked in disbelief.
“Definitely not the kings,” Jeremy confirmed.
“How do you know they aren’t lying to you too?” Meg half-yelled.
Jeremy looked at their faces and panicked. Coe looked ready to leave while the girls looked like they didn’t trust him anymore, even Mari. He said the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m dating King Haywood,” Jeremy gasped along with everyone else after he said it.
“You’re dating who?” Meg asked dumbfounded.
“I’m dating King Ryan,” he whispered looking down.
“Damn,” Coe muttered.
“How do we know you’re not lying?” Asked Ashley.
“He’s not,” Mari said.
“How can we trust you?” she fired back. “You knew he didn’t know about the General!”
“Mama was going to bring it up at the meeting and then he showed up so she couldn’t after Jared got pissy. I assumed you would find out at our meeting.” Mari said softly.
“What meeting?” Coe asked.
“You won’t survive out here,” Jeremy said bluntly. He looked all of them in their eyes. “I’m surprised you survived this long, to be honest. Adam can build stronger defenses and weapons that can be reinforced with magic. Meg, you have powers that could save you and everyone in this town from the forest. Coe, If I give you direction on fighting you can turn your people into fighters who can take down royal guards. Not to mention creatures. Mari, I could teach you about non-magic potion making. Ashley, you could learn about taking care of crops and growing things from basically nothing. I can teach you how to do this stuff and you can teach others! I’m not the best but with all of us working together you can ensure the survival of everyone. Ash,” Jeremy stopped to really make them listen.
“You said we're all free here. Kingdom rules don’t apply?”
“Yes,” she said hesitantly.
“Then why can’t we do this? Jared doesn’t lead and neither does anyone else in that room. We can do this if you trust me. We can do this if you all push away your doubts and fears. I promise after I believe you can continue on your own, I will go back to the castle and I will get rid of the General and you will all be truly free,” Jeremy said forcefully.
Everyone was quiet. They all looked at each other as if trying to gauge what they were feeling after what he said. Finally, they all looked right at Jeremy.
“When do we start?” Ashley asked.
Jeremy broke out into a grin.
-
Ryan looked down at his papers. He felt like they were all written in an unknown language.
It had been two weeks since they had their monthly Kings meeting. Which usually meant some quiet time in a ride through the woods while they discussed anything new in the kingdoms during lunch.
They had just wandered into the apple orchards to try and find a nice spot to set up for a picnic when Jeremy let out a wail. In a split-second, Ryan had gone from teasing Jeremy to feeling like he was the one who was shot as he watched Jeremy fall off his horse.
He felt numb once all of the creepers and skeletons were gone. Jeremy had run in the wrong direction. Ryan was breathing heavily as he leaned against the castle wall. Jeremy had run in the wrong direction. He didn’t even know if Jeremy was alive. They had to go looking for him. They had to –
They couldn’t find anything. The blood trail was all over the place and eventually led nowhere. Ryan hasn’t been able to fall asleep since; the only times he slept were when he passed out from exhaustion from crying too much.
Mica had been by to shove water and food down his throat. He was secretly grateful that she had been the one to come by. She didn’t judge him for not moving for hours on end or not getting anything done. She made sure he’s still alive and then leaves him to it.
The other kings were supposed to come today to have a meeting. They need to do something about Jeremy. Either keep looking for him or declare him dead without really knowing. They would also need to tell the kingdoms what was going on at some point. The others said that the final decision was up to him.
Ryan curled further into himself in his chair. He knew the people deserved to know what was happening to King Dooley. But he knew the minute they made a decision, it would all be actually real. Either Jeremy would be missing or dead. Ryan has been able to pretend he would be back and he just missed him. Telling the world he was missing indefinitely or presumed dead would break Ryan even more. He knew this.
Ryan sniffled and pick his head up from the desk. He hadn’t even noticed he put in down. Ryan reached a shaky hand out to the drawer on the left side of his desk. He pulled it open the felt underneath for a switch. He flipped it and a little compartment at the bottom opened up. There sat a little green box.
Ryan’s vision became watery and he picked it up and set it on the table in front of him. He popped it open to reveal the ring nestled inside.
Ryan sobbed as he clutched the box harder. He slowly crumpled; his head and shoulder fell onto the desk. The chair and the desk where holding him up on their own. He gripped the box in one hand while the other gripped some loose paper. His shoulders shook as he sobbed onto more paper, wetting them.
His wail could be heard outside the door where Mica was frozen. Her hand held up to knock as tears formed in her eyes.
-
Jeremy was put on wood gathering duty. Meg had gotten fed up with him hovering over her shoulder as she tried to concentrate on a spell had been stuck on. She physically forced him out of the room and slammed the door behind him then shouted through it that they need more wood for the bonfire later that night.
So here he was.
It had been a week since he gave Ash, Meg, Mari, and Coe his inspirational speech. A week since he met with everyone who was willing to help in Mina and Mari’s hideout closer to the edge of the main road. There he had met Adam’s helpers, Barbara (who was just as important as Jared), and many others who were willing to help start the process. Their group had grown bigger and bigger until more people were helping and learning new things than there were people opposing Jeremy’s help. Not everyone who helped trusted Jeremy but they trusted Ash and Mina, and that’s all that mattered.
Jeremy reached down and picked up another branch and some kids tore by him, almost knocking him over. He laughed as he heard some shout at them.
He and Ash had been working with the kids and middle-aged women on planting crops in the right area and how to sustain them. The kids loved taking care of them and making sure they were keeping track of their growth. Jeremy had taught Ash how to take the information the kids were taking and apply it to growing better crops each time they would replant in the future.
Meg had been growing more and more confident over the past week. Jeremy spent most of his time with her since they were trying to shove years of experience into whatever time they might have. She had gotten better at spoken spells and placing spells on objects but they had yet to venture to non-spoken and fighting spells. She had almost given up in the first two days multiple time, claiming she would be better off going back to teaching the kids. Jeremy and Ash let her cool off before going to convince her to come back. She hasn’t had one of those moments in the last four days.
Meg did bring a bunch of women to the fighting ring one morning claiming they had been pestering her about fighting. Meg had yawned and told them that if they didn’t let these girls fight that she would make them, before sleepily going back to her shared house with Ash.
The fighters had denied them but after one girl stepped up to a sparring match with Jeremy, they had agreed.
Jeremy had Coe had laid out a plan and curriculum for advancement for the fighters that was approved by Barbara immediately. They had all done exceptionally well so far and were faring even better with the weapon Meg and Jeremy were reinforcing for them.
Jeremy had to give little direction to Adam and his group since they knew what they were doing. They made better armor, weaponry, and were even planning on building better defenses for the whole town.
Barbara had been overseeing everything and she and Mina had also been keeping Jared and his posse out of their way while trying to convince more people to join in on the effort. Jeremy often caught Jared watching from afar but the last two days, he hadn’t been focused on Jeremy. The only time he saw Jared the last two days was when he came back home late at night and when he went to the meeting room in the morning. Jeremy first thought he was avoiding him now, but he had a feeling something more was going on. Something bad.
He tried to think of something else, but he ended up thinking of something worse. Ryan.
Jeremy desperately wanted to tell them they're ready, but he doesn’t want to let them down or think that he was abandoning them. He just wanted to see the other kings again; they’re the only family he had left. Jeremy squashed down the thought of the late nights at the abandoned shop where Mari, Ash, Meg, and Coe shared laughs. He was nothing more than a mentor to them. Nothing more than a noble or king.
His misses Ryan more than anything, though. Late night talks and getting in trouble with Kdin after trying to make an unholy concoction in the lab. Stargazing with Ryan and Gav’s telescope, long nights in Ryan study going over kingdom plans, the rare days Jeremy gets to wake up in bed and feel Ryan net to him. Once he starts thinking he can’t stop himself until he’s blinking tears out of eyes and realizing he’s just been standing staring out into the forest for minutes on end.
Jeremy turns back to the camp and realizes this is almost the same spot he limped to two weeks ago, but the view is different. The crops are flourishing, people are laughing while doing their daily jobs, he can see fighters explaining how their weapons to some of the younger teenagers, and he catches glimpses of Adam’s crew carrying around building supplies. He smiles and thinks maybe he can go home.
“You know,” Meg’s voice startles him out of his thinking. Jeremy turns to see her walking towards him from the direction of Mina’s house. “I thought I saw someone out here the day I met you.”
She smiles at him teasingly, “I guess creeper would be a fitting nickname. You’re by the forest edge AND you looking like you’re peeping on the town.”
Jeremy laughs but thinks back to Gavin’s creeper-esque outing clothes and his heart hurts all over again. Meg notices the change in mood.
“I miss home,” he answers her unasked question.
“I bet you're desperate to get back,” Meg says but Jeremy also notices the hurt in her voice. Jeremy decides he can be honest with her.
“I miss home but,” he pauses, “I feel like this is my home too,” he almost whispers.
“Please,” she says, “When you get rid of that awful General,” she looks at him and Jeremy notices how much this last week has taken a toll on her, “Please come back to us.”
Jeremy can’t guarantee that. He doesn’t know if the others will let him out of his sight again much less his own advisors. But he speaks anyway, “I promise.”
Meg nods and grabs an arm full of branches from Jeremy. Jeremy watches as she headed back and deposits the wood in the already forming bonfire pile in the centre of the town.
He can’t help but think that she would get along with the others like a forest fire. He follows her path back and leaves his thoughts at the edge of the forest.
-
The night is in full swing by the time Mina sits down with Jeremy where he had been watching all the antics from the grass in front of her house.
Mina shoves food into his lap and he laughs. She had been doing at all week. Making sure all of her “babies” (as she calls the three of them, to Jeremy and Jared disdain) were well feed despite their duties.
“Thank you,” he says and starts to dig in.
“You don’t have to sit out here all alone, you know,” she sides eyes him.
Jeremy sighs and looks up to where Jared was trying to spin Mari around in a weird dance. She looked grumpy, but Jeremy knew she was trying to hide a laugh. Meg and Coe were having a drinking contest on the other side of the fire. Adam and Barb were telling stories with some of the people Jeremy recognized from that fight in the meeting room. He’s realized that they all still loved each other no matter the divide. That they can put away their differences for a night of being happy.
“They’re doing fine without me.” He smiles.
“And you think they’ll continue to do fine without you,” she says matter-of-factly. Jeremy sighs again and places his empty plate to the side.
He hesitates but Mina scoots back to lean her back against the house like he’s doing. She takes his hand and holds it in her soft but unyielding grip.
“I want to go home. I miss everyone something terrible, I almost feel sick with how much I want to see them again, to make sure they are all okay but,” he trails off.
“But you feel like you’re abandoning us,” Mina confirms.
“I know it’s stupid,” he shakes his head. “I’ve only known you people two weeks.”
Mina squeezes his hand to tell him to go on.
“I don’t have a family,” he pauses to make sure everyone is engaged with the festivities before speaking again, “That’s not true, I have a weird version of a found family. We call Geoff and Jack mom and dad, the lads are like brothers to me, and Ryan,” he chokes on his name. He hadn’t actually said his name in a week, but it feels like forever.
“Mari told me,” Mina says. Jeremy squeezes her hand back, “But I understand. They feel like the other kings first and they’re not always there.”
“I feel like you’re reading my thoughts,” Jeremy jokes.
“You’re not the only one who lost their original family Jeremy.” Jeremy looks at her in surprise but she’s looking at everyone else. “I’m old, I lost my parents a long time ago. But everyone else,” she trails off. “The General took more than you can imagine from us. Meg lost her mentor at the very hands of the General, he made her watch. He was killed for practicing magic. You see lack of confidence from her but it’s really nervousness.”
Every word is like a puzzle piece falling into place for Jeremy.
“Tyler lost his brother to the royal guard for not being a good fighter. It’s why he pushed Barb for a better regimen for so long. Barb lost her lover to a noble; he took her as a servant and she was never seen again. Rumor was she was taken to the castles. Adam lost his wife, some of the mothers lost their husbands. Some lost kids. Some kids lost their parents. Mari and Jared,” she paused. “Their mother was taken same as Barb’s lover but we know she was killed. Their father was killed by the General with many others. The refused to comply. I was a friend of their parents, so I took them and fled. They think of me as a second mother.”
“How long ago did the General take over?” he was dreading the answer.
“We were hearing about Burn’s death one night and the next, the General was taking over and telling them that this is what the soon the be king ordered.”
“Over a year and a half ago,” he confirmed. “How could they all trust me?” he said looking out at everyone.
“Because they saw your compassion. And they saw you were just as hurt when you found out about the General,” she replied. “I always believed that someone as young as King Dooley couldn’t possibly have so much evil in him. I’ve tried to convince as many of our people as I could to not base their views on royalty from what happened in Vila. I always knew there was something more going on that we couldn’t see; that we weren’t the only victims. Mari was the hardest to convince. She’s barely an adult and she’s still growing. But ever since meeting you, she’s been fighting the hardest in your favor. It’s had a sort of ripple effect,” she laughed. Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that.
“Now Jared may be lacking in the trusting area but he is my son. Listen to him.” She patted his hand. Then she stood up and walked away without having said anything else.
Before he could question it, Jared was taking her place, although not as close.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of his mouth.
“Um,” Jeremy said eloquently.
“Mari said I have a lot to apologize for so consider that a blanket apology.”
“Okay.”
“But Mari said that wasn’t enough, so I have something else to offer,” before Jeremy could ask, Jared was speaking again. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’ve been spending more and more time in the meeting room.”
Jeremy nods when Jared actually turns to look at him.
“It’s always a struggle, getting supplies from the city. But if we want to continue to make our home safer, we need more.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy says earnestly, “I didn’t even think”
Jared held his hand up to stop Jeremy. “I may not have liked you in the beginning but you’ve done more than I could ever imagine for this town. You have ensured our survival for a long time, so it’s time I did something for you,” Jared paused and sighed. “We’re making the trek out to Vila early tomorrow morning. Mina and Barb are the only ones staying that know. It’ll be Adam, two of his aides, two more from the leaders, me, and you. There’s a man who has a reputation for getting people past the city and into the more royal parts of the kingdom. After we get our supplies, I’ve arranged for him to pick you up and take you home.”
They were silent.
“Should I say goodbye?” Jeremy asked after a moment. He had a lump in his throat as he looked from Mari to Meg, to Coe, to the kids.
“We all know of your promise,” Jared said softly, “As long as you fulfil it, I think they’ll forgive you.”
Jeremy nodded. They sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of the night.
-
“Did you get the message?”
That’s what Mica had said to Ryan before his world was flipped again. Jeremy had been found. Jeremy was alive.
He was involved with a fight on a trail in the outer parts of the kingdom. The doctors were still checking him over but rumors were flying around the whole castle. He’d been tortured, brainwashed, a group of defectors from his own kingdom had kidnapped him and forced him into labor work.
Ryan paced around the entire castle waiting for word on his condition. Mica had said she caught a glimpse of him and thought she saw physical injuries, but they would heal. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t more going on inside of his head.
Ryan finally sat down in the little waiting room outside the door after his legs started to protest all the movement. He foot started tapping.
Jeremy had been found. Jeremy was alive. But did that mean anything if he was the same Jeremy mentally?
There was a commotion from behind the door the same second mica rounded the corner. Both of them dashed to the door to open it.
Jeremy was fighting the two doctors and the helper, screaming. He had bruises all over his body
“I need to get back! I need to help!” he cried.
Mica picked up a syringe one of the doctors was reaching for as he tried to fight off Jeremy, and she stuck it in his arm.
“I need,” he mumbled before collapsing back onto the table.
Ryan stood helplessly in the doorway. He clenched his fists and silently promised to kill whoever hurt his Jeremy.
-
The morning was cold as Jeremy pulled on the outerwear Jared had lent him. It was like a cross between Gavin’s hooded coat and Michaels long cloak. He admittedly felt badass wearing. Jeremy smiled as he looked at the little bit of forest he could see from the porch. He was going to be seeing them soon.
Everyone was still asleep in the town. They were all up to late last night to want to get up as usual. Jeremy looked back at the house sadly. Mari was still asleep, she was going to bitch him out the next time she saw him no doubt. Jared came out the door and nodded. They had already said goodbye to Mina, so they made their way to the very front of the town.
Jeremy tried not to think of Meg, Ash, and Coe but he was unsuccessful. He was going to miss them, but he promised he would make it back.
They met up with five and Barb. They said their goodbyes before turning and walking down the road. Vila was twenty miles away. It would take them the better part of the day to get there.
Jeremy glanced behind to Barb’s retreating form and the town. He can’t help but think the gods are responsible for making him run in the wrong direction those two weeks ago. He turns back to look ahead and can’t help the small part of him that feels like he’s doing the wrong thing.
-
They stop when the sun is above them. They take a much-needed rest to eat and rest their feet. Adam jokes with his two aides he brought along. The other two occasionally comment or laugh but they’re quiet. Jeremy catches that they’re brothers. He doesn’t want to think about if they lost their family too. It makes him feel sick.
“Are there any other towns like yours? That left Vila and the royal guard?” Jeremy asks Jared in quiet.
“Yeah,” Jared nods. “There were. Rumor was they tried to cross into the Jones kingdom when the General stop giving them supplies. We still struggle with supplies, but I think the only reason we're still here is because the General expects us to die with being so close to the forest. They’re too afraid to come to close to the forest. Practically untouchable,” Jared laughs a joyless laugh.
Jeremy doesn’t want to think about if the brothers lost their family too. Doesn’t think about how Jared said “were.” It makes him feel sick.
It’ll be over soon. I’m gonna fix this.
Jeremy and Jared sit in silence together for the rest of the hour break.
-
Jeremy had a thousand possibilities run through his head as he tried to imagine what the city looked like. The hustle and bustle of a regular city wasn’t one of them. It held almost an illusion of a normal royal city. The things that broke the illusion were the guards placed at every corner and the look of terror on everyone’s faces like they all expected to be executed on the spot. Or worse.
Jeremy kept his head down but still visible in an effort to not be too suspicious. “Where do we need to go?”
“Building just past the town square. We’ll meet back up with Adam two streets over, he’ll take your supplies then we'll take you to B.” They talked quietly but they were sure they couldn’t be heard over the noise of everything.
Jeremy couldn’t see over anyone’s heads but he could see a large open area between the building up ahead and assumed that was the square. He was proved right when they cut across to the right and fought their way to the other side.
Jeremy glanced at the centre, wondering why people weren’t walking there when he saw the post. And the blood. Jared tugged on his arm to keep him moving but he couldn’t take his eyes off the centre.
That’s when a cry broke out above all the noise, silencing everyone in a wave-like manner. Everyone stopped dead, trapping Jeremy and Jared staring at the town centre with everyone else as a woman was forcefully shoved into the centre. Jared’s hand gripped his arm in a death grip. Jeremy looked around the square frantically and caught sight of Adam and one of the brothers. They looked horrified too.
“I’m glad you all could join us today!” said a man in a loud voice. Jeremy knew who he was immediately, The General. He wore a white outfit that looked like a scarier version of a guards uniform. He had stark white hair with a sharp smile.
“You know how much I hate having to be here for this but someone must be the example, yes?” Everyone mumbled a yes. His smile got wider.
“Please!” the woman cried as she was strung up to the post. “My child is dying, I just needed a little bit of bread!”
Jeremy was shaking with how much he wanted to run out into the centre but Jared kept his grip on his arm.
“Please!” the woman cried as a guard came forward with a whip.
Jeremy knew he had to do something. He needed to do something now.
The guard raised to whip.
Jeremy stomped on Jared’s foot which caused him to loosen his grip on his arm. The next few seconds passed by in slow motion for Jeremy. He heard Jared yell for him, the General turned to look but Jeremy was booking it to the guard. He skidded to halt in front of the woman and raised his arm, turning his face away.
The whip came down on his arm with a painful crack. Jeremy stumbled back and placed himself protectively over the woman who was still sobbing. Everyone was still silent. Jeremy caught sight of Adam’s horrified face. He shook his head as if to tell Jeremy no.
Jeremy reached up and tugged off his hood. He heard some people gasp. Jeremy’s face hardened as he turned to face the General.
“I am King Jeremy Dooley and I command you to cease this activity.” Jeremy barely recognized his own voice.
This time a collective gasp went through the crowd.
“My King,” The General said thought Jeremy noticed how pissed he looked, “We did not expect you.”
“I know what you have done,” Jeremy snarled. “I command you to lay down your weapons and leave this city.”
“My king, surely you are mistaken. We all remember your order,” he was grinning a feral grin.
Jeremy glanced around to see everyone’s angry faces directed at him. Jeremy stopped on Jared’s face, who looked betrayed.
“I didn’t order this,” Jeremy said, still looking at Jared. The General noticed.
“Have you been spending time with the group of defectors?” the General asked, faking worry. “You look unwell my king, these defectors must have kidnapped our king and brainwashed him,” he shouted the second part of the sentence. “We all know these defectors have a reputation.”
Next thing Jeremy knew, multiple guards were pulling him away. He struggled before he noticed guards moving in the direction of Jared.
Jeremy screamed as they grabbed him. Kept screaming as Adam rushed forward, only to be caught along with the one brother. Still screamed for them to stop when the guards raised their weapons. Started to cry when the guards beat Jeremy down. More fearful they were going to kill other others over him.
He felt a pain in his next before he felt himself start to go limp as he was dragged away.
Tried to think of Ryan’s face as the pain started to hit him.
He blinked, and he was laying in a carriage.
Ryan’s face. Blinked again.
It was night time.
Closed his eyes.
Could only picture Jared’s look of betrayal. Could only picture everyone’s angry faces.
Couldn’t think of anything for a while. Couldn’t feel anything after a while.
Jeremy opens his eyes again to see cobblestone walls. His heart sinks down to his stomach.
No.
-
“Geoff,” Michael whispered to him away from the others. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”
Geoff sighed. He looked almost as bad as Ryan did when he came and told them Jeremy was found and was requesting a meeting.
“We won’t be able to make a decision without talking to him first,” Geoff said.
“I’m afraid of what’s going to walk through that door,” Michael admitted.
“You’re not the only one,” Geoff said even softer. His were fixed on Gav and Jack sitting at the table, both of them looking nervous, but Michael knew Geoff was feeling the same.
Geoff patted Michael's shoulder and steer him to the table. Michael sat down next to Gavin and sent him a smile. Gav sent him a shaky one and kept bouncing his leg. Geoff stood behind Jack’s chair, hand on his shoulder. They all looked at the door in waiting.
They got lucky. The door opened seconds later to reveal Mica who stepped inside and held the door open. Held it open for Jeremy who was walking slowly. It wasn’t shocking to see Ryan walking behind him, but he looked a little out of place with just a shirt and pants paired with his crown.
But they all gasped as they caught sight of the bruises on his face, neck, and what little of his arms they could see. Jeremy looked up as he stepped into the room. Ryan stepped out from behind him to stand by his side.
“Hey guys,” Jeremy said, tears springing to his eyes.
“Hey Lil J,” Gavin said, relief coming out all in one breath.
Jeremy just looked at them for a moment before turning to Mica.
“I’m sorry to ask this, but could you give us a few?”
“Of course, Jeremy.” She nodded to Ryan and closed the door behind her as she went.
Jeremy sighed and walked forward to sit at the table with the rest of them. Ryan stayed standing with Geoff.
“God, you idiot,” Michael said. Jeremy nodded.
“I deserve that. I mean I did run in the wrong direction,” he laughed before his face got serious. “Look we need to talk about something urgent.”
“Jeremy,” Ryan said with a sigh, looking imploringly at Jack.
“You don’t need to tell us, we heard what happened in that city, what happened to you,” Jack assured. “Get better, we can take care of those defectors,”
“Don’t call them that,” Jeremy said forcefully. “The only defectors in my kingdom is my own guard.”
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“What?” Geoff asked.
“Geoff,” Jeremy said, looking straight at him. “Do you remember the plans to build the wall around the Forest of Creation? How everyone was evacuated from the area?”
“Yes,”
“It never happened,” he said.
“We wrote letters,” Michael said.
“And sent supplies,” Jack said.
“It was all a lie!” Jeremy shouted. “It was all fake,”
Geoff looked up at Ryan who shook his head.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning Jeremy,” Geoff urged.
“We don’t have time for this, people could be dying,” he stressed, choking up a little.
“Please, Jeremy, help us understand,” Gavin said, looking scared.
“Fine,” he sighed. “I ran for a while after the creepers and skeletons started fighting near us. I couldn’t shake them no matter how hard I ran. I ended up falling down a hill and passing out. Next thing I knew I was in a bed in a town. A town literally steps away from the Frost of Creation,” he looked at all of them, hoping they understood.
“How...” Jack trailed off.
“A few people found me and brought me back. I met this family,” Jeremy was smiling now, “They took care of my wounds and let me stay there. They were wary at first, and I told them I was a noble. Turned out two of them, knew I was a king,” he laughed, then sniffled.
“I took a potion to move the healing process along so I could actually move without feeling like I wanted to die.” Jeremy rolled his eyes at himself. “The point I’m trying to get to is, they had very little defenses, their fighters weren’t training properly, their crops were dying, and they needed help. I talked to the leaders of the town and got about half of them on my side and we went to work. I trained a girl who had a strong aura, helped them take better care of the crops, created a new way to teach the fighters, I gave the wielders and craftsman initiative, and they took it all in. They built up their town in merely a week. Meg learned spells to grow the crops faster, reinforce weapons and buildings. It’s amazing what these people did,”
“Jeremy,” Ryan said. “Where did the bruises come from?”
“That’s the part I was getting to,” he assured, “The only reason their town was so close to the forest is that they all ran from the main city in the area. Royal guard and nobles under my kingdom started to follow on of my generals as he took over. Everyone believed that was giving those orders. He killed people’s families. Almost everyone in that town lost someone.” He clenched his fists.
“We went into the city to get supplies, it was arranged so I would leave to come back here after I helped them gather their things but I saw my own guards drag a woman into the square. They were going to beat her in front of everyone for stealing some bread for her dying child.” He was crying now.
“I would never give those orders,” he said looking right at Geoff, “But everyone in that city believed the General. They had no way of knowing if I was lying.” He took a deep breath. “I ran forward and got hit for the woman.” He rolled his sleeve up more to reveal a mark.
They all gasped.
“I revealed myself as a king but it did nothing. Everyone was angry with me, even as I tried to command the General away. But he has them wrapped around his finger. He tried to tell everyone the people of the town brainwashed me. Played right into their fears of defectors. The guards grabbed me and the group I came with. I saw them start to beat them and I tried to fight but the guards started to beat me too. Then I felt a pain in my neck and I woke up in the castle.”
No one aid anything. Michael reached out and squeezed Gavin’s hand, who looked close to tears. Jack leaned back into Geoff who squeezed his shoulder more.
“Am I the only one having a hard time believing this?” Ryan snarled.
“Ryan,” Jeremy pleaded.
“I heard firsthand accounts from that fight. Guards were patrolling the area and got into a fight with a group of defectors. You were apart of them. The guards said you had bruises all over you and you were fighting for those defectors. The doctor said he found evidence of magic brainwashing.” Ryan wasn’t even looking at jeremy which made him more upset.
“None of what you said actually happened Jeremy. The doctors are right, you need to stop playing into this fantasy and so do we.” Ryan spoke everyone word as if he was talking to a child.
“Ryan,” Geoff started.
“Meg didn’t even know she had an aura before me!” Jeremy shouted. He stood up and knocked the chair back.
“Then you are a child if you believe that!” Ryan yelled back as he got in his face. Jeremy stared at Ryan with a look of hate.
“Fuck you,” he snarled before storming out of the room.
“Ryan,” Geoff said again but Ryan just glared at him.
“Leave,” he said before turning and following Jeremy out.
The rest of them just looked at each other, not knowing what to believe.
“Jeremy’s not dumb,” Gavin said.
“He’s not,” Jack agreed. “but if he’s telling the truth, there could be corruptions throughout all of our kingdoms on multiple levels.”
“Then it’s something we’ll have to deal with,” Michael looked determined. Gavin nodded with him.
“When was the last time we went on an adventure?” Geoff asked.
“I thought we retired adventuring after the dragon,” Jack joked.
“Well, I think if we are going to find the truth, that we should do some investigating,” Geoff said.
“How will we know where to go?” Gavin asked.
“I’m sure Kdin could take a minute from her day to help us,” Michael smiled.
“I’m not telling Lindsay,” Jack sighed but he was smiling too.
“She’ll understand,” Geoff said. They all looked at each other again. “Let’s go, lads,”
-
Jeremy stormed into his and Ryan’s room and fought the urge to scream. He paced around, hands on his head, trying to think of something. Trying not to think about throttling Ryan. It was only his luck that Ryan walked in and slammed the door behind him.
“I don’t want to look at you right now,” Jeremy said. He pointed to the door to get him to leave.
“Jeremy, you need to accept this if you are going to get better,” he stressed, stepping forward.
“Why do you believe random people over me!” Jeremy didn’t phrase it as a question.
“Some of those random people are my own people,” Ryan fired back.
“I can’t even look at you,” he said. “One of the only things that kept me going for a while, that kept me fighting was the thought of making it back to you. I guess I was wrong,” Jeremy said as he turned away from him.
“I was gonna propose,” Ryan said. Jeremy drew in a shaky breath and shook his head. “That day that we lost you. Jack was the only one that knew.”
“I refuse,” Jeremy whispered.
“What?” Ryan asked, sounding obviously hurt. Jeremy didn’t want to turn and look at him but he had too.
Ryan was staring at Jeremy like he didn’t know him.
“I refuse,” he said as firmly as he could through tears. “Goodbye Ryan,” he said before walking around the frozen Ryan and walking out the door. He knew what he needed to do.
Ryan stood looking at where Jeremy had been standing, helpless, before collapsing on his knees.
-
Jeremy knew this was the worst idea he’s had in awhile, but he had to go back.
Jeremy thought he would feel comforted by being back in the castles. Even after what went down in Vila, he would finally be able to do something about the General. But he was proven wrong immediately.
He was taken to his and Ryan’s room by Mica after waking up again and proving that he could be calm. He barely had time to be appreciative of the fact that his crown and personal bag fill with notes had made it before he was confronted by Ryan and a group of doctors. All telling him that he was under the effect of magic and that his brain was struggling to come up with a believable story as to make the trauma suffered from the defectors not real.
Jeremy told the doctors “bullshit” immediately and told them he didn’t endure any trauma from defectors. Ryan had to dismiss the doctors when Jeremy got more and more heated and refused to listen to them. Jeremy bristled more when one of the doctors told Ryan that playing into his “fantasy” wouldn’t help him get better. Ryan almost had to physically restrain Jeremy as they were leaving.
Jeremy had grabbed his crown after they left and demanded they have a royal meeting immediately. Ryan had sighed and allowed it, but Jeremy knew that he only agreed because the other kings hadn’t seen him in so long.
Hearing Ryan say he didn’t believe him and call him a child had struck something deep in Jeremy. Jeremy thought he could trust Ryan but after that he didn’t know if he could anymore. He still felt a pang of guilt for refusing him, but he had pushed it down as he swiped a map from the library.
He had a general idea of where the town was so he headed to the stable to grab a horse. He pushed the horse as fast as she would go to get back to the apple trees quicker. He would go past the apple trees, into the forest, and to the edge of the hill. Then it would be guesswork from there. But he needed to get back.
-
“Are you sure you’re reading that right?” Michael said, doubtfully from his horse. They had been riding since last night. They snuck out after dinner, which neither Jeremy or Ryan had shown up to, and have been at it through the night and into the next day.
Kdin came up with the faster route without going near the city and Geoff had commandeered it immediately. It would take them far right around the city then they would cut back on the road until they found something.
“Yes, I’m reading it right,” Geoff hissed.
“Look, there’s the road up ahead,” Jack pointed to an old dirt road. Geoff humphed at Michael as he passed. Michael rolled his eyes and followed.
“Should be close now right?” Gav asked. “Bloody forest of monster can’t be that far.”
“We could in the forest already,” Michael smirked as Gavin glared at him.
“Not funny,” he said. “There’s supposed to be a wall idiot,”
“All high and mighty but you’re scared of the forest ain’t-cha?” Michael teased.
“Boys,” Jack said using her mom's voice.
“Geoff could have read the map wrong and got us right into the middle of it,” Michael laughed.
Gavin squawked as Geoff turned to defend his map reading skills. Michael laughed as he saw Jack close his eyes and sigh.
“Stop!” Someone shouted, shaking them out of the moment. They all brought their horses to a stop as people came out of the foliage and from behind trees. Almost all of them had weapons.
“It’s some of the kings,” a girl said.
“Perfect,” the man standing next to her said. “Just what we needed.”
“Look,” Geoff started.
“I said stop,” yelled someone again.
Geoff looked to see the other three looking just as confused. None of them moved. That’s when Geoff caught sight of another horse running up with someone on it. Ryan.
He pulled his horse to a stop just beside Geoff. He looked at Geoff questioningly, as if gauging to see if he needed to be ready to fight.
“Get off your horses,” The man ordered.
“Wait,” Jack tried to say.
“Do it, or I will force you,” The man said, with no room for arguing.
Geoff shook his head at Ryan before he slowly got off his horse and hoped that the rest of them were smart enough to follow. He let out a relieved sigh as he saw the rest of them put up no fight. The men came forward with some rope that had a tell-tale glimmer to it. Geoff glanced at Ryan and thought the same thing. Was Jeremy really telling the truth?
“’Red, is this really a good idea?” The girl from before asked. “They could be here to help.”
“I’m not risking it, Mari,” Red said. Geoff tried to look into the eyes of the person tying his hands, but he wouldn’t look at him.
“If they were really here to help, Jeremy would be here,” the man said as he forcefully tied the knot in Geoff’s binding. He looked straight into Geoff’s eyes before turning away.
The girl sighed as if she thought the same thing.
A few people pushed the five of them forward into a group. The girl looked at them before turning and walking forward. He and the man called Red were the only ones walking in front of them. The rest brought up the rear. Geoff could hear the horses walked with them too.
Geoff raised his eyebrows at Michael when only two miles up the road, a town came into view. Michael rolled his eyes.
“Take them to the centre, I’ll grab the others,” Red said before walking towards one of the buildings as they entered the town. Three people slipped off with the horses too. They continued to be pushed towards the back, the forest coming into view more before they walked into a large clearing. The most shocking thing was, there was no wall that they could see.
Someone people stopped what they were doing to look at them in shock. Everyone started nudging others until everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at them.
Geoff hazarded a look around. Some looked hopeful and others looked scared. Geoff glanced at Ryan to see him staring intently at a girl with red hair by some children.
“Where is he?” a woman said walking up with Red. A few people trailed behind him.
“He’s not with them,” the girl said.
“What,” the girl with Red hair shouted, pushing forward to get a look at all of them. “he promised.”
“I told you we couldn’t trust a dirty king,” Red snarled.
“You should show some respect to the kings,” Ryan said back.
“Why should I respect any king? Dooley lied to us and then abandoned us. You kings abandoned us and treat us like nothing. As far as I’m concerned, none of you are my king.”
“I’m just looking for Jeremy,” Ryan said, but at the same time he said Jeremy’s name, the kids screamed it too.
They all looked around confused before they saw the kids barrel into Jeremy who had a huge smile on his face. The girl with red hair gasped and ran forward to do the same. The five kings looked at each other before watching as multiple people ran up to him and started hugging him. They could hear his laugh from here.
“He promised,” The girl said to Red as if rubbing it in his face. She giggled when he rolled his eyes. They watched Jeremy say hello to everyone before making his way over.
“What are you doing here?” he asked them all, crossing his arms, standing next to one of the women, who patted his shoulder.
“We needed to see for ourselves,” Geoff said, “It was all true?”
“Yes, all of it,” Jeremy promised. Geoff nodded, so did the rest of them, except Ryan. Jeremy barely looked at Ryan before settling his eyes on Red.
Red looked shocked, but all of his previous anger dissipated from his face. He looked almost relieved to see Jeremy.
“Jared,” he addressed.
“I know why you did it,” Jared confessed. “I would have never listened to you if you said you were a king. I’m not even mad at you. I was at first but, I’m madder at myself for not realizing.”
“Thank you for believing in me,” Jeremy said, looking at the townspeople. He turned back to the rest of the kings. “And thank you to the four of you for realizing the truth.”
The comment was loaded with passive-aggressiveness towards Ryan. Geoff glanced over and saw Ryan trying to cover up a hurt look. Everyone looked a little awkward, and some of the townspeople tried.
The girl opened up her mouth to comment but all that came out was gasp as an arrow lodged itself in her left shoulder.
“Mari,” the woman yelled and caught her as she stumbled forward.
Everyone whipped around to look in the direction of forest and caught sight of Zombies and Skeletons heading their way. No one had noticed how low the sun had dipped below the trees.
The kids started to scream just as a woman in blonde started barking out orders with Jared.
Ryan paid no attention to the others as he rushed forward to the girl who was shot. The woman was crying over her.
“Untie me, I can help her,” Ryan pleaded. The woman nodded and untied his hands. He glanced over to see the others had been united and jumped into action.
Ryan got to work, conjuring up any magic to help this girl. Ryan rarely used magic during a battle, but it was worth it if Jeremy cared for these people.
-
Jeremy was shocked over two things at first. How quickly and efficiently the town was taking care of the creatures and how quickly the rest of the kings jumped into action.
It took him a minute to realize he wasn’t even that shocked. He saw the things this town was capable of, it was just jarring to see them in action for the first time. And he knew the other kings, he had no reason to doubt them anymore.
It was almost effortless to take out the creatures. Meg was conjuring her magic, Coe was leading the fighters and with Michael, Adam and Jack were luring some of the creatures to the hidden traps, and Gav, Ash, and Jared were tag teaming with each other. Jeremy cut another zombie head off and looked around for Geoff. He caught sight of him comforting Mina was Ryan leant over Mari. He could see the magic flowing over her.
Jeremy looked around to make sure there were no more skeletons before rushing over to them. He dropped to his knees and took Mina’s hand, she was still crying softly.
“Ryan knows what he’s doing, don’t worry,” Jeremy said to her. He glanced up at Geoff who smiled at him and took her other hand.
“She’s the one who convinced me to trust you at first,” Mina said, although her voice was shaky. “She also spent all night with Jared after he got back. She talked some sense into him.” She laughed before sobbing again.
“I can’t lose one of my babies,” she cried. “I’ve come close with two of you already in the past week.”
Geoff looked at Jeremy in surprise, but he just put his arms around Mina and said nothing as they both watched Mari.
Ryan gasped all of sudden and feel back away from Mari. The arrow lay next to her face and she blinked her eyes open. They all looked to her shoulder to see the blood gone, and a scar in it’s place.
Mina cried out took her into her arms.
“Damn, its been awhile since I’ve done that,” Ryan joked. “last time was when that creeper blew an arrow into your side when we were looking for pearls.” He said nervously as he looked at Jeremy, as if he was going to blow up on him immediately.
Jeremy smiled at him, hoping it showed his thanks before wrapping himself around Mina and Mari. He could feel Jared run up and do the same, making sure she was alright.
Jeremy looked over his shoulder to see the rest of the kings walking over with townspeople. All the creatures were gone.
Jeremy buried his face into Mina’s shoulder and gripped both Mari and Jared tighter.
“Looks like we’ll have matching scars, Jeremy,” Mari’s voice was muffled but it made everyone laugh through their tears. Everything wasn’t fixed, but this was a damn good start.
-
Everyone was celebrating. A mix of welcoming the kings, welcoming Jeremy back, and celebrating their victory.
Ryan and Jack raised their glasses to two Michael and Gav as they came over to sit with them. The two younger ones had been dancing with the red-haired girl who was introduced as Meg and another called Ash.
The two of them were telling them how much Meg had learned about magic in only a week when Jeremy, Jared, Mina, Mari, and Geoff walked over and sat with them at the table. It was a little cramped but they made it work, even if Mari, Jeremy, and Jared elbowed each other to make room.
“Children,” Mina said. They all muttered a quick sorry before Mari giggled and elbowed Jeremy again. Jeremy gasped and “accidentally” elbowed Gavin. Gavin let out a squawk that sent them all laughing.
Ryan caught Jeremy’s eyes from across the table and they smiled tentatively at each other as everyone calmed down.
“I realize this can probably wait but, every day since that day in the city, we’ve been waiting for the General to come and deal with us once and for all,” Jared said.
“This is complicated,” Geoff said, “After everything you have told me, there is more corruption than we could imagine.”
“it’s gonna take a lot of time,” Ryan agreed. Everyone started at Ryan, not knowing which side he was on still. “I suggest we start with the city, it could be one of the main sources.”
Everyone nodded.
“We will do everything to make sure your people stay safe,” Jack assured Jared.
“They’re not my people,” Jared laughed and nodded his head towards Jeremy.
“Their no one’s people.” Jeremy agreed. Jared stopped where he had raised his beer to take a sip.
“What?” He asked.
“You said it yourself,” Jeremy smiled. “Everyone’s free here.”
“You’re mad,” Jared said incredulously, slamming his bottle down.
“After we catch the General and his people, you will be pardoned. The wall will be built and this town will not be under any rule. You will still be able to trade and get supplies within the city, but as long as you promise to not become criminals, you will be free.” Jeremy said.
“That’s a dumb move,” Mari crossed her arms.
“Yeah, but Jeremy’s not dumb,” Gavin said and raised his drink. Michael and Jack did the same.
“As King Dooley commands,” Geoff said as he raised his.
Ryan raised his glass, “To the kindest king.”
Everyone clinked their glasses in the middle before taking a sip. Michael started to chug his and reached over to get Gavin to do the same by lifting the end of his bottle. It resulted in beer spilling all over the two of them as Gavin started gagging and sputtering and Michael started choking as he laughed.
The rest of them started dying laughing and Michael ran away from the table and Gavin chased him. The rest of the table fell into a comfortable conversation about the things the town had accomplished after they stopped laughing. Ryan listened and realized everything that they had taught Jeremy since he was king, he used to help these people. Ryan’s magic, Michael’s fighting, jack’s farming technique, Gavin’s weapon designs, and Geoff’s leadership. Ryan looked around at the town and all the people. It was abundantly clear that Jeremy had an effect on all of these people.
“Excuse me,” Ryan said softly. Geoff and Mina nodded as he got up and left the table, taking his drink with him. He walked into the direction of the forest and stood just beyond the last house in silence.
“You know,” someone said, making him jump a little. “this is where I saw Jeremy for the first time. Looking out at the forest.”
Ryan looked down to see Meg had walked up to stand with him.
“Really?” He asked.
“Yep,” they were silent for a moment, just staring at the trees. “One of the only reasons we believed his story about the kings not knowing what was going on out here was because he told us he was having an affair with you.”
“What?” Ryan laughed.
“Yep,” Meg giggled too. “To be fair, we thought he was a noble at the time.” She paused for a second. “We tried not to bring it up because we could tell how much you missed you guys.”
Ryan hummed before taking a drink of the water he had been drinking all night. “I may have ruined my chances.” He admitted.
“Nah,” Another voice said.
Ryan looked to his right to see Mari.
“Meg’s right. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of going back home to you.”
“He refused my proposal,” He said.
“Because you were being a dick,” Mari said.
Ryan let out a disbelieving laugh at her boldness as Meg giggled again.
“apologize to him,” Meg said
“I don’t know how,” Ryan said, frustrated.
“Just say you’re sorry,” Meg said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Then,” Mari stressed. “Give him some time. Give yourself time too. You both need to figure some things out.”
Ryan said nothing.
“Good luck Ryan,” Mari sighed as she patted his shoulder. She motioned for Meg to follow. She sent him a smile before walking back with Mari.
Ryan continued to stare out into the forest. He should go find Jeremy and apologize before he can talk himself out of it.
“Hey,” Jeremy said, walking up to stand next to him like Meg had. “I hope the girls weren’t too rough on you.”
Jeremy always had a knack for knowing when Ryan needed him.
“Nah, they were fine.” He assured. Jeremy nodded and looked at the forest with him.
“I’m sorry,” Ryan rushed out. “For everything. I was so wrong about everything. I betrayed your trust. I’m no better than those people you told us about.”
“You’re not. I know you’re not because you wouldn’t have rushed to save someone you barely know if you were. I know you’re sorry,” Jeremy said. “But I don’t think I can forgive you yet.”
“I understand,” Ryan said with a shaky breath.
Jeremy nodded again and took Ryan’s hand. Ryan squeezed it back and Jeremy rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder.
It was a start, Ryan thought as he glanced down at Jeremy’s face.
-
“Knock, knock,” Jeremy said walking into Ryan’s study and using a knuckle to knock on the frame.
“There better not be a joke beyond that,” Ryan warned as he looked up from his desk.
Jeremy smiled warmly, and Ryan sent one back.
Things hadn’t gone back to normal, but they had developed into a new normal. The new normal involved, systematically going through their staff, nobles, and guards to weed out anyone who followed the General.
Taking down the General was almost too easy, but as it turns out, six kings showing up with a group of “defectors” is pretty scary. That or the guy was just a coward. That was Ryan’s favorite theory.
Sentencing was to start within the next month. It had been three since that night at the town. It gave all the kings plenty of time to gather as many corrupt individuals as possible before they start to process of trials. Is was Jeremy’s idea to give the fair trials since some cases were worse than others, everyone agreed.
Ryan knew Jeremy was looking forward to staring the General in the face as he announced he and his guards were not to get a trial and that they would spend their lives in prison. Ryan was looking forward to it too.
“You know me,” Jeremy said as he walked over to the side of Ryan’s desk.
Things had changed between them, but Ryan found himself being okay with it. They didn’t sleep in the same bed when Jeremy came on to the castle or Ryan went to Jeremy’s. Only when Jeremy or Ryan had a nightmare would they find themselves waking in the same bed. It was more frequent when they first made it back to the castles but as Ryan has realized Jeremy has been healing and Jeremy has put more and more bad people away, the nightmares have stopped coming. Ryan still misses Jeremy in his bed but he still respects Jeremy’s choice.
Ryan has been by his side as more of a friend through the process. Went with him as he visited the woman he stood up for in the city, held her baby as Jeremy helped her cook dinner for all of them. Help track down someone with Ryan’s own staff so they could be reunited with a woman back in the town. Helped Jeremy find out what happened to family members of the people in the city and the town. Arrange funerals when Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to do it. Stopped him from hurting anyone when he found out there were two more cities that were treating the people the same under the General’s rule. Defended his decision to pardon the main city that was under the General to the others. Held his hand when he needed it but never crossed any lines Jeremy didn’t.
“We’ve done a lot in the last couple of months,” Jeremy said looking down at Ryan.
“Just thinking about that too,” Ryan said.
“You know, Mari and Jared have been pestering me on when I’m gonna finally forgive you so that they can give you the shovel talk.” Jeremy laughed.
“Oh really?” Ryan laughed too. “It’s your call though. How much longer do you want me alive?” he joked.
“Ryan,” Jeremy said in all seriousness. He reached out and ran his hands through Ryan’s hair and cupped his face. “I forgive you.”
“Jeremy,” he gasped. “You don’t have to –”
“I wasn’t finished,” Jeremy chastised playfully. Ryan furrowed his eyebrows as Jeremy took his hand from his face.
Gasped again when Jeremy got down on one knee and took out a little red box.
“These last four months have been hell but I don’t regret them. We’ve been lost, we’ve been found. We’ve both changed to be better people and found things we could have never imagined. Both good and bad,” he laughed. “But throughout this whole time, I’ve never stopped loving you. Even when it hurt to do so,” He confessed.
Ryan knew what he was talking about, Jeremy didn’t need to say it. Ryan drew in a shaky breath.
“Ryan Haywood, will you marry me?” Jeremy asked. His face was completely serious.
“Yes,” Ryan agreed. It was the only answer in the world.
Jeremy started to cry as he jumped up to hug Ryan. Ryan buried his face into Jeremy’s neck and cried with him. This was more than a start.
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Uncle Huey’s 2019 Oscars Post!
A confession: I love the Oscars.
A confession, extrapolated: I am an unabashed Oscars fanboy, who legitimately looks forward to the Academy Awards all year long. I love the opening montage where the host skewers self-righteous Hollywood stars, I love the cringeworthy banter of presenters pretending to have a non-scripted conversation (as if they were actual actors!), I love the montages reminding us why we should keep liking movies, I love seeing which recently deceased actors (it’s always the actors) cause people to break the “no-clapping-until-the-end” rule during the In Memoriam clip (Hollywood’s version of “you can only bring Valentine’s Day Cards to class if you give one to everybody”), I love the wildly reactionary vitriol thrown towards the Academy every time they make a decision about anything, I love the Academy reacting one-year too late to everything, I love the politics, I love the self-seriousness, I love the acceptance speeches in which you can tell the actor deeply resents his or her family, I love seeing the loser shots and trying to decide whether they’re legitimately happy for the winner (spoiler: they’re not), and I love seeing the same tired, rehashed Twitter jokes about how long the Oscars telecast is.
Reading back through that paragraph, I realize how disingenuous my love for the Oscars sounds, but I do love the Oscars, if for no other reason than I really fucking love movies. And while I’m no critic, I do fancy myself a semi-educated film buff, and with that, as well as an uncredited extras role in The Flintstones In Viva Rock Vegas! that I ask that you indulge me in the first annual Hu’s the Boss Oscar Preview!
In the interest of full disclosure, this is where I tell you that I’ve only seen 11 of the movies nominated (Avengers: Infinity War, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Black Panther, BlacKkKlansman, Bohemian Rhapsody, The Favourite, Isle of Dogs, Roma, Solo: A Star Wars Story, Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse, A Star Is Born), but whether it’s the utter predictability of some films (Green Book), or familiarity with a director’s work (Vice), I feel reasonably confident in my admittedly underinformed predictions.
You might have heard that the Oscars will not have a host this year, for the first time since 1989, and we all remember how that went! (I was 2 years old, I definitely don’t remember how that went, but the internet does, and yikes, it wasn’t good. Side note: I’d sooner tell my own grandmother that her matzo ball soup was overseasoned than do anything horrible enough to warrant Julie Andrews calling me an embarrassment in an open letter). How did we find ourselves in this predicament? Blame the Academy. Well, also the internet. Maybe Kevin Hart too. President Obama as well. Let me explain.
While in office, Obama had the opportunity to sign an executive order mandating that Amy Poehler and Tina Fey host every major awards show, but failed to do so. Given President Trump’s current feelings towards S&L, it feels like that window has closed. The Oscars are generally hosted by a mainstream comedian, and this year was shaping up to be no different, with Kevin Hart signed on to host. But then the unthinkable happened. The internet internetted, and found that Hart had performed some homophobic material back in 2009 and 2010. The backlash got real loud, real quick, and the court of public opinion sentenced the Academy to 10 years without Kevin Hart as host, with the possibility of parole once we realize that every comic who started writing before 2010 has included something homophobic in one of their sets. So you can blame Kevin Hart, whose jokes were clearly offensive; you can blame the Academy for either not vetting their host, underestimating the research capabilities of internet denizens, underestimating the outrage of the general public (hard to imagine, given the public reception of most of the Academy’s decisions of late), or, depending on your viewpoint, bowing too easily to internet outrage; or you can blame the outraged, for not understanding the evolution of standup comedy, or for making a stand when one may not be warranted.
I’ll leave it to you to draw your own conclusions on who’s to blame for Hart not hosting, but I can tell you who’s to blame for there the absence of a host, period: Critics. Not since Billy Crystal hosted the Oscars for a 73rd consecutive time has any host be universally lauded. The host isn’t funny, the host is too mean, the host is too sophomoric, the host disappears for extended periods of time, etc. It’s been a thankless job for years now, and that was before a dissection of your extended comedy catalog became a prerequisite. Personally, I’d love to see the hosting job go to an up-and-coming comic and let them roast Hollywood for a bit. It would be a way to take the self-reverential mask off of Hollywood for a couple hours, and provide a massive opportunity for an up-and-comer. But ratings dictate that stars and stars alone must host, so I’m not holding my breath.
Ok. That sound you just heard is me jumping off my soap box. Back to movies.
“The field is wide open this year” is a great way to build up buzz for an awards show, but when it comes to Best Picture, it’s also a euphemism sugarcoating the fact that there were truly no great movies this year. Personally, I think nearly every contender has at least one seriously fatal flaw, and that, coupled with the rare lack of a huge late PR push for one movie above the others (a la The King’s Speech, The Artist, Argo, Birdman, etc.) mean that “wide-open field” isn’t just lip service, it’s true. Just not for the best reasons. Still, it makes for an exciting awards show, if you’re into that sort of thing, and probably means that the Academy won’t be on the hook for buying into one film’s hype and looking terrible for it down the line (Shakespeare In Love over Saving Private Ryan, The King’s Speech over The Social Network, Birdman over Boyhood, etc.). But these things aren’t always predictable, and maybe in ten years we’ll be talking about what an underappreciated movie Vice was in 2018.
Now on to the awards, where I’ll give my two cents on each nominee for Best Picture, then a brief thought on each subsequent category declaring my best guess for the actual winner and my personal favorite. In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve watched the Golden Globes and the SAG Awards, and usually pay a lot of attention to movie/Oscars buzz, but I’ve generally tried to avoid Oscar prediction articles for the sake of this post. Again, I don’t claim to be a film critic, but I do have lots of opinions on movies, so take everything with a grain of salt. To further highlight any conscious or subconscious biases I have, I’ve put the films I have seen in bold in each set of nominees.
THE OSCAR GOES TO
Best Picture
Nominees:
Black Panther – A wildly entertaining and legitimately good movie, but it’s not even the best Marvel movie ever. This feels more like an acknowledgment from the Academy that it respects superhero movies, than a legitimate contender for best picture.
BlacKkKlansman – Given the wild true story the movie is based on, it probably didn’t even need Spike Lee’s direction to shine, and yet I left somewhat underwhelmed. Everything was solid, but very little really stood out, aside from costume design and a few warranted but ham-handed references to our current political climate. Spike is one of the most provocative filmmakers of the last quarter-century, but with a story that I expected he’d be able to knock out of the park, I didn’t fell like I gained an interesting perspective or was shocked by anything; a rarity for one of his films. Maybe that’s more reflective of the times we live in, or maybe I just set unfair expectations for Spike, given the subject matter. Either way, despite enormous potential, this had all the trappings of a good-but-not-great movie.
Bohemian Rhapsody – Rami Malek’s performance and the final Live Aid scene alone catapult Bohemian Rhapsody into this year’s contenders. Unfortunately, that was all that was Oscar-worthy about this movie. The rest was a by-the-numbers music biopic that tried to pack way too much into 133 minutes. It’s no wonder this movie took so long to get made and so many writers/producers/directors/actors were involved and uninvolved at one point or another (Sacha Baron Cohen was originally slated to play Freddie Mercury), because there’s a lot to untangle between the rise and “fall” of the band, Mercury’s sexual awakening, and his HIV diagnosis, all while the real-life remaining members of the band did their best to ensure that we got a PG-13 version of Queen history devoid of any real dirty laundry. The final result was a watered down, factually dubious mishmash that doesn’t go deep enough in any direction to have a true lasting impact. Those music scenes though, still make it one of the best music biopics ever filmed.
The Favourite – Of all the Best Picture nominees, the Favourite and Roma were easily the least digestable for mass market audiences. Period pieces aren’t for everyone, especially ones that have little in the way of plot, and take place exclusively on the grounds of an 18th century British palace. But the Favourite managed to be thoroughly entertaining thanks to top-notch set design, Oscar-worthy performances by Olivia Coleman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone, sexual intrigue and two hours of steady, if a bit slow, mischievousness.
Green Book – I have not seen it. Obviously the reviews are positive, but no one has yet convinced me that this movie isn’t entirely formulaic. I haven’t seen this movie, but I’ve seen this movie, and I’m pretty sure it’s fine.
Roma – A beautiful movie about an underrepresented social class in an underrepresented era in an underrepresented country. It’s shot well and acted well, and the camerawork makes up for a meandering plotline. It probably is the class of this category, but I can’t help but think that it might be 15% worse if it wasn’t shot in black and white. That was clearly a conscious choice by writer and director Alfonso Cuaron, who, between Gravity and Children of Men, among others, has more than proven he knows how to make a film beautiful, regardless of subject matter. But the Artist won Best Picture for its two-part gimmick of being black and white and silent, and I’m not entirely sure that Roma’s colorless palette shouldn’t be considered gimmicky as well.
A Star Is Born – The most classic Best Picture fodder on this list, by leaps and bounds, and not just because previous versions of this movie have been nominated for Best Picture, among a host of other awards. But Hollywood loves a movie about the entertainment business, not to mention a story about underdogs and redemption. This was a really well done movie across the board, and while I thought the Grammys scene was a little over the top, I now realize that was an integral scene to the previous three versions of the movie, so its inclusion is a lot easier to justify here. Aside from the acting, which was exceptional across the board (Andrew Dice Clay!), I think the most impressive part about this movie was that it was a big-budget film about superstardom, yet managed to feel very intimate, and resisted using tired crutches of story narration/plot forwarding by way of TV/radio news reports or newspaper headlines – something Bohemian Rhapsody was unable to pull off.
Vice – I have not seen it, which is odd, because of every movie nominated, it’s probably the most up my proverbial alley. The initial mixed reviews were a part of my missing it, though I imagine my love for Adam Mckay’s masterful balance between humor and the depression of irresponsibly-wielded power in the Big Short and Succession (to say nothing of his comedy genius displayed in Anchorman, Talladega Nights, Step Brothers et al.) would make me a more likely candidate than most to appreciate Vice. Alas, that’s all I’m able to really opine on.
Will Be: If there wasn’t a strong anti-Netflix bias in the Academy, as has been reported, I would go with Roma, but I fear that the safest choice here is Green Book, and in the absence of anything truly groundbreaking, that’s going to be the pick.
Should Be: I’m on the fence between Roma and A Star is Born. To me, Roma’s lack of plot and failure to explore its main character in depth separate it from A Star is Born, which really has no obvious flaws.
Actor in a Leading Role
Christian Bale – Vice
Bradley Cooper – A Star Is Born
Willem Dafoe – At Eternity’s Gate
Rami Malek – Bohemian Rhapsody
Viggo Mortensen – Green Book
Will Be: Having only seen two of these movies, it’s hard for me to make a real educated guess, but it’s also hard to imagine that Rami Malek won’t be rewarded for flawlessly playing one of the most eccentric entertainers in music history. All I know for sure is that Willem Dafoe will not be winning.
Should Be: Malek. Malek’s apparent real-life persona is shy and understated –essentially the exact opposite of Freddie Mercury’s – making his transformative performance that much more jaw-dropping.
Actress in a Leading Role
Yalitza Aparicio – Roma
Glenn Close – The Wife
Olivia Colman – The Favourite
Lady Gaga – A Star Is Born
Melissa McCarthy – Can You Ever Forgive Me?
Will Be: Glenn Close. When an actress from a movie you’ve never heard of keeps racking up awards, it’s a pretty safe bet the Academy will follow suit.
Should Be: I’m going to stick with Close, given how much consensus this pick seems to have. Of the movies I saw, I think Colman and Gaga are both very worthy. I can’t quite figure out Aparicio’s nomination. Given that she had never acted before, she was incredible, but the lack of dialogue and depth that the script afforded her puts her performance in stark comparison to the other women on this list. Close is the biggest lock in any of the acting categories.
Actress in a Supporting Role
Amy Adams – Vice
Marina de Tavira – Roma
Regina King – If Beale Street Could Talk
Emma Stone – The Favourite
Rachel Weisz – The Favourite
Will Be: Amy Adams. This is a really tight race that could legitimately go to anyone. With five very deserving nominees, the biggest differentiator is the fact that Adams has been nominated for an Oscar five times before, with no hardware to show for it. In situations like this, the Academy has shown it’s not above the unofficial lifetime achievement award.
Should Be: I’m a huge fan of every actress in this category, though my two favorites – Adams and King – are nominated for movies I haven’t seen. Given that, my pick would be Emma Stone, who portrayed innocence, quirkiness, resourcefulness, wittiness, ruthlessness and helplessness in one winkingly dry performance. Weisz was just as game from an acting perspective, but the script gave Stone a lot more to work with, making her performance more memorable.
Actor in a Supporting Role
Mahershala Ali – Green Book
Adam Driver – BlacKkKlansman
Sam Elliott – A Star Is Born
Richard E. Grant – Can You Ever Forgive Me?
Sam Rockwell – Vice
Will Be: Mahershala Ali. The Academy loves him, and with good reason. In a tight race, the fact that Rockwell deservedly won this award last year for Three Billboards probably disqualifies him. Elliott was exceptional in A Star Is Born, but had a considerably smaller role than the other actors on this list. I thought Driver was good, but not Oscars-good, and obviously I haven’t seen Grant’s performance, but the buzz is very positive, despite being in a movie that not a ton of people saw. There’s definitely a cynical side of me that thinks Ali is the most justifiable selection among all the minority Oscar acting nominees, and its hard to imagine there aren’t at least some voters who are still trying to erase the scars of #oscarssowhite (to say nothing of minority representation over the course of film history) by essentially casting a vote for inclusion. But ultimately he may just be the best choice in a tight category.
Should Be: Ali. I’ll be rooting hard for Elliott, both because he tends to be my favorite part of any movie or show he’s in, and because it’s nice to see the older guys finally win one. Since Ali and Rockwell already have a statue, there may be some sentimentality votes going his way, and his career in mainstream American cinema spans much longer than fellow elder statesman Grant. Again, I haven’t seen Green Book, but I know Ali is as game as any of the actors in this category, and had the biggest role of anyone in the category. That’s good enough for me.
Directing
Spike Lee – BlacKkKlansman
Pawel Pawlikowski – The Cold War
Yorgos Lanthimos – The Favourite
Alfonso Cuaron - Roma
Adam McKay – Vice
Will Be: Alfonso Cuaron. There’s talk of this going to Spike as a “my bad” award from the Academy for never having even nominated him for best director (not giving him even a nomination for Do the Right Thing borders on criminal). But he did receive an honorary Oscar from the Academy in 2015, and that, coupled with BlacKkKlansman being just a good movie make me feel like this isn’t Spike’s year. Vice is a very hype-typical movie that isn’t getting much hype, and Cold War is the only movie on this list not nominated for Best Picture. That leaves Roma and the Favourite, and the Academy has proven it loves Cuaron’s work, not to mention Roma is the most unique, visually stunning film on this list, which are usually two of the major criteria for this award.
Should Be: Cuaron, for all of the reasons listed above, but I wouldn’t be upset with Lanthimos taking it.
Adapted Screenplay
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs
BlacKkKlansman
Can You Ever Forgive Me?
If Beale Street Could Talk
A Star Is Born
Will Be: I really have no clue on this one, but I’m confident that The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and If Beale Street Could Talk are the first two out. The remaining three are all unlikely to win in the other major categories so voters might simply choose their favorite of those three to ensure they win something. If that’s the case, my guess is the most popular among them is A Star Is Born.
Should Be: I won’t rehash my thoughts on BlacKkKlansman again, and I haven’t seen Beale Street or CYEFM, but when considering adapted screenplays, I like to vote based on degree of difficulty jumping from the source material to the screen. That’s why A Star Is Born falls short for me, given that it was adapted from three previous versions of ultimately the same movie. To me, that makes the writer’s job easier, not harder. I definitely have a Coen Brothers bias, so my vote goes to The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, which managed to take a collection of short stories written over the course of 25 years and transform them into a series of visually stunning, dialogue-rich (aside from Tom Waits’ story) vignettes that somehow formed a (great) movie.
Original Screenplay
The Favourite
First Reformed
Green Book
Roma
Vice
Will Be: First Reformed is getting buzz for this award, and it might be a way for voters to give some gold to a movie than many felt was snubbed in other categories. My take is that if voters loved the screenplay so much, it would have been nominated for those other categories. So the most likely pick here is Roma, a movie about an upper-middle-class family in Mexico City with a relative dearth of dialogue or plot lines that somehow ends up being as captivating as any other movie this year.
Should Be: I thought The Big Short’s screenplay was incredible, so if Vice is comparable in both style and quality, I’m sure I’d love it. But critics are saying otherwise, so I’m going to go with The Favourite, whose screenplay managed to make a thoroughly beguiling and darkly humorous film out of what could easily have been just another dry period piece.
Foreign Language Film
Capernaum – Lebanon
Cold War – Poland
Never Look Away – Germany
Roma – Mexico
Shoplifters – Japan
Will Be: We can pretend Cold War has a chance, but the award has all but been handed to Roma already. If it’s the only movie on this list that managed to be worthy of a Best Picture nominee, logic would dictate that it’s the only movie worthy of winning Best Foreign Language Film
Should Be: Having only seen Roma, I don’t have any great insights to add here, but I’m still confident in saying it deserves this one.
Best Animated Feature
Incredibles 2
Isle of Dogs
Mirai
Ralph Breaks the Internet
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
Will Be: Despite winning two of the last three years, Pixar doesn’t have the stranglehold over this category that it once did. In most years, Incredibles 2, Isle of Dogs or Ralph Breaks the Internet would have a great shot to win, but this is simply Spider-Man’s year.
Should Be: I liked Isle of Dogs, but Spider-Man was probably my favorite movie of the year, and quite possibly the best. Sorry Pixar.
Cinematography
Cold War
The Favourite
Never Look Away
Roma
A Star Is Born
Will Be: Roma. Sweeping cityscapes, countryscapes and beachscapes (are those things?) + historical time period + black and white = Oscar.
Should Be: Roma. Sweeping cityscapes, countryscapes and beachscapes (are those things?) + historical time period + black and white = Oscar.
QUICK HITTERS
Production Design
Black Panther
The Favourite
First Man
Mary Poppins Returns
Roma
Will Be: Roma
Should Be: The Favourite
Costume Design
The Ballad of Buster Scruggs
Black Panther
The Favourite
Mary Poppins Returns
Mary Queen of Scots
Will Be: The Favourite
Should Be: The Favourite
Death, taxes, and a Victorian(ish)-era drama winning Best Costume Design are the only certainties in life.
Visual Effects
Avengers: Infinity War
Christopher Robin
First Man
Ready Player One
Solo: A Star Wars Story
Will Be: Avengers: Infinity War
Should Be: Ready Player One
This pick is based entirely on the trailer and my 1980s and 90s nostalgia.
Original Song
All the Stars – Black Panther
I’ll Fight – RBG
The Place Where Lost Things Go – Mary Poppins Returns
Shallow – A Star Is Born
When a Cowboy Trades His Spurs for Wings – The Ballad of Buster Scruggs
Will Be: Shallow
Should Be: Shallow
Along with Roma winning for best Foreign Film, this is easily the biggest lock of the night. It’s also a really good song.
I don’t really have anything of substance to add for the rest of the categories, and if you’re somehow still reading, you’re probably not anxiously awaiting my take on all the documentary shorts I haven’t watched.
Happy Oscars Night, everyone! Looking forward to seeing you again next year, when we’ll get to predict the winners of the Academy’s new categories:
Worst Performance By A Best Actor/Actress Loser At Time of Award Announcement
Most Terrifying-Looking Live-Action Genie
Best Performance By People Trying to Bring Matt Damon Home
The Wes Anderson Lifetime Achievement Award for Contributions to Whimsy
Worst Acting Performance by a Musician Who Now Thinks He/She Can Act Because of Lady Gaga
Worst Singing Performance by an Actor Who Now Thinks He/She Can Sing Because of Bradley Cooper
Best Use of “That Guy” (Andrew Dice Clay!)
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Friday Night Lights, Khodrin’s Journal
This is the story of the Friday Night Lights campaign, as told through the eyes of the Mountain Dwarf Fighter, Khodrin Emberhelm. This also means that if Khodrin doesn’t see (or hear, sense, smell) something happening, he doesn’t “experience” it.
After trudging trough the southern part of Silver Oak Forest, heading out from Athlin, I entered a large plain of green rolling hills, covered in various, low vegetation. The mid-day sun shone down, and I found myself wiping sweat off of my forehead more than often. After telling a fellow smith at Amduhr's Armory, in Athlin, about my plans to leave, she drew me a rough map to follow. Though the map had barely any detail to it, I could clearly see the two mountain ranges; Zenils and Treols Mountains. Together, these two mountain ranges created a natural border to the east. Eastward, the promise of new land, maybe a place to settle? Maybe even find fellow Dwarves and herd some pigs, maybe grow some hops, brew my own ale. I was more or less lost in my thoughts, walking through the green meadows, up one hill, down the next. The land was unchanging, yet each hill felt new, different sights were available at each top. From the look of the map, it seemed a river drove a pass between the Zenils and the Treols Mountains, if I could find somewhere to cross the river, the Treols Mountains would serve as watch-point towards the next part of my journey.
In the distance, to the east, I could see the mountains rising. Without those blasted trees, I should be able to follow the foot of the mountains to the pass down south. As if drawn to them, I began to walk more in a south-eastern direction. Sitting myself down on a high hilltop, I enjoyed a light lunch, a hump of bread and a few gulps of water, while surveying the area. I was still far from the mountains, I reckon I was half a day’s march from reaching them. From the map, I should be arriving at the pass in roughly three days of walking. Packing the remaining food and the waterskin into my backpack once more, I flung the pack on my back once more, to the rattle of the chain mail. My warhammer was already sitting in my belt, a brass ring made the hammer easy to grab and place back by my hip. As the last thing to do, I picked up my shield, placing it back on my left arm, as my fingers locked on the bar, I cocked a small smile, it was a well-made piece of equipment, balanced, but sturdy. I had yet the need for it, but just having it felt good; it felt safer. Not that there was much to feel unsafe about. I had not seen any signs of danger, barely any life at all, since leaving Athlin. I did spot a couple of rabbits early on in the meadows, but before I could ready and aim my crossbow for a shot, the little buggers were already long gone. I could have set up the trap, that was tucked in somewhere in the backpack, but in the end, I decided it to be more of a distraction. And I wasn’t short on food at all, several lumps of bread, each one wrapped neatly at the top of pack, that would last me at least ten days, maybe even more.
As I descended the hill, careful not to fall forwards and tumble down, a gentle breeze from the east reached my nostrils. There where two smells; the fresh, sharp scent of frost, likely from the mountains, a scent I hadn’t smelled in years, along with something more familiar; the smell of wood burning at a fireplace. As I had seen no trees, thankfully, that led me to thinking “There’s someone nearby, someone civlized enough to make a fire, perhaps I could make halt for the night in company of people.” This was, of course, a rather risky decision, it could very easily turn out to be a band of bandits, marauders or another dastardly, non-friendly group. To my luck, a few hills nearby were a relatively amount higher, excellent vantage points to scout from. And in case things should go awry, easy to defend. This hill semed steeper than the last, but the view made the climb a trip worth it’s while; a small farmstead with surrounding fields, a calm, grey pillar of smoke rose from the cobblestone chimney, right in the middle of a thatched roof. My spirits rose, perhaps I could even stay the night indoors. Last time I slept outdoors, I woke up with a thistle stuck in my beard, took some precarious grooming to get it out, without damaging too many hairs.
I started walking towards the building, I couldn’t see any windows, but in case someone should see me, they probably would not consider a lone Dwarf as a threat. Reaching the house from the back side, I let the fingers on my right hand slide across the cobblestones, making up the walls. Of course, it wasn’t Dwarven mason work, but it felt pretty sturdy, despite the fact that moss had clutched onto the lower stones. The door frame was a little crooked, the stones on the left side seemed to bend the wood ever so slightly. Breathing in, slow and deep into my lungs, I lifted my right hand, and knocked a couple of times on the wood. The door was only a couple of planks, fitted together with a board and some nails, it worked, but anyone who wished to enter, wouldn’t have to use much force to break it down. I stepped back a few steps, it could seem rather intimidating, opening a door, having a warrior fully clad in chain mail as the first sight. Opening up outwards slightly, with a creak as planks grinded against the crooked frame, a human woman looked out. She seemed to study me thoroughly, before asking “Can I help you, master Dwarf?”. Bowing my head in a friendly greeting, I looked back up at the woman, her plain, rough clothing, not exactly ugly-looking appearance, solidified my thought that she was a farmer. The bags under her eyes indicated that she had much to worry about, or that her days were long and hard. There wasn’t much trace of joy in her face, even so, her aura seemed warm and friendly. I spoke up “Well, I’d hate to be bother, I’ve travelled from Athlin up north, heading south and east, I was wondering if I could stay the night here.” While speaking I had unhooked my relatively small coin-purse, holding it in my right hand. “I can pay for my stay if needed. I can also help out, if you need any tools repaired, or any other help.” She looked at the purse in my hand, then directly down at my face. Shaking her head, she opened the door, signalling for me to enter.
Inside was a cozy heat, a large iron pot stood over the fireplace, a stew of some kind, it smelled quite delicious. The woman presented herself as Sylvia, and as she spoke, three children of various age appeared from the back of the house. They all looked in awe at me, the oldest one almost as tall as me. I wasn’t used to children, so I just tried a friendly nod, as I took off my backpack, placing it with a rather loud thump on the beaten clay floor. I pulled the shield off of my arm once more, placed it leaning up against the backpack. As I looked over into the pot, the scent became clear; a classic vegetable soup, easy to make, nutritious and nourishing. Not a glorious meal though, but I was used to meager meals, that had the standard since I left the stronghold, those fifty years ago. Ah, the thought of mead-roasted pig, slices of shepherd’s pie and sweet honey-dipped apples. i could feel a drop of drool form on the edge of my mouth, and wiped it off with the back of my gauntlet, before it got into my beard. Just then a loud clatter made me jump, a hand automatically reaching for the hilt of my warhammer. As I turned around, I saw one of the children having knocked my shield down. Good thing it didn’t hit the child, the iron-fitted edge could probably cause quite a bruise. Sylvia quickly rushed over, she was setting the table up for dinner, to check if the child was hurt. The shock from the shield moving, and the following loudness of metal and wood against hard clay, had turned the child stiff, but aside that, the child was not harmed, at least not from what I could see. Sylvia gave me a look, that I could not quite analyze, “Oh I’m so terribly sorry, please, don’t be angry with him, he’s just a child... You know how they can be.” I was not entirely sure what she meant, but instead, I just shook my head, trying to smile back to her; “No harm done, while it isn’t of Dwarven construct, it’s pretty sturdy, it should be able to survive a small drop like that. Besides,” I said, shrugging my broad shoulders, “If it couldn’t withstand that, it would serve almost no use in combat, now would it?” I’m not sure it helped Sylvia to be calmer, but it seemed to affect the boy in a positive way.
We had just sat down by the table, when an odd sound was heard. Odd, but familiar. The sound, slightly muffled by the thatch, of an arrow sinking into wood. Leaping from my seat, I grabbed and readied my warhammer. I turned to the startled Sylvia; “Do not leave the house! If I don’t return or call for you, you’d better start praying to whatever god you favor!” Hastily I checked the crossbow, ready and sitting well on my back. I hurried through the house, grabbing my shield as I headed for the door. I couldn’t let harm come to my friendly host, but if I were to fall... I shook the thought out of my mind, and opened the door inwards. Perhaps I was too eager or riled up, as I pulled the door, the rusty hinges gave in, and the door almost fell on me. I had barely regained my composure, as a crude arrow whizzed by me. Damn it, this fight could be tougher than I first thought. In the afternoon light, I saw several tall figures, most of them carrying spears, but some in the back stood and took aim at the house. The stench of wet dog hang heavy in the air, along with the smell of arrogance. These attackers did not expect resistance, one of them barked some commands, I could not make out the words, but now one of the figures started lighting a torch. I could attempt a shot with the crossbow, but it would be a very far shot, and I am not exactly a marksman. I had no time to think it through further, as a volley of arrows were fired towards me. One smacked into the door frame, a little above and to the right of my head, another one pinged off of the stonework, a third one into the ground. A fourth arrow was going the right way, but instead of me, the arrow hit one of the metal fittings on my shield, and caused no harm. “Blast! There’s no way I can reach out and stop them, they’re too many... I’ll have to take them one by one,“ Steeling myself behind my shield, I prepared for the next volley as the figures began to close in on the house, bolstering my courage, I yelled out, “WELL, COME ON THEN, YA COWARDLY FURBALLS! I’LL MOP THE FLOOR WITH YE HIDES BEFORE YE GET PAST ME!!!”
I am not sure if it worked, taunting them, or if they actually adapted a strategy, but they seemed unsure how to act. Only for a short moment though, as they now began advancing on my position in the door frame. If I went further out, they would surely surround me; they were already spreading out to flank me. And to clear the line for their archers, I presume. Now that they got close enough, I could see them; horriible, savage dog-men, their teeth looking more nasty than their crude weaponry. None of them seemed to be carrying any armor, not that it mattered much, my hammer would make quick work of any and all types of armor. “Just need to ya get close enough, ye mangy mongrels.” I gritted my teeth as a big brute came charging towards me with his spear. He stopped up shortly, only about ten feet from me, his sand-coloured fur had no markings, other than some old scars. It seemed the other creatures also stopped up, their ears or heads all turned towards a point somewhat behind the house. Did I hear the faint climbering of a lute? “Hmm... This might be good for me, I highly doubt these... things to have much skill into instruments... Well, other than simple battle drums or maybe a war horn.” I couldn’t take advantage of of the creature being distracted, that would only create and opening. Meanwhile, the creature with the torch had managed to get close enough, and hurled the buring torch onto the roof of the house, which caught on fire the instant the torch made impact. As the sound and smell of thatch burning, Sylvia panicked inside the house. The creature in front of me had stopped, he must have realised I couldn’t be surrounded, and there was something about the lute in the distance. Several of the other creatures seemed unsure of what to do as well. A stalemate. Though a damned one at that, the fire was consuming more and more of the roof, slower than expected. I could do nothing to prevent it, and if I did, the creatures would overwhelm me and then the house.
Suddenly a sharp crack was heard and, from behind the house, a clear blue light appeared. There were only a few clouds out, and it had been mostly clear all day, it couldn’t be thunder. As if a natural reaction, I heard the yelp of one of the creatures. Something had attacked and hit one of the creatures, my hopes and courage rose; now things weren’t looking so grim. Which couldn’t be said about the creature in front of me, looming over me, he thrusted his spear at my head, but completely missed, thrusting too high up. As it prepared for another strike, I had started winding my right hand and warhammer back, and flung it forwards in a big swing, whacking the creature in it’s side. The whimpering was almost pitiful, “Yeah, hurts, doesn’t it? Bet ya didn’t expect to face a Dwarf this day, eh?!” I could hear another sound, but couldn’t indentify it, shrugging inside of myself; it wasn’t a bother right now, if it became a bother, I could care about it when that time came. What seemed to be bothering the creatures though, was the blue light and the sound of thunder, once again it was followed by the yelp of one of the creatures, and there was a slight scent of burned fur in the air. Right before me, and encasing several of the creatures, the ground turned slimy... Webs? Like some giant spider in the sky had just taken a silky dump on the ground. The creatures all struggled in the sticky mess, unfortunately my attacker was not hit by it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone moving in fast, as the creatures nearby where halted by the web, it seemed a lot like the person was dancing in between them. The glint of her daggers told that it was no dance at all, but eventually she also got stuck in the web, and as some of the attackers broke free, they started to swarm her. I wanted to help her, but I still had my own foe to care about, and I couldn’t leave the house unguarded. Thankfully the archers seemed to had found different targets. Further away, a tall warrior moved in, swinging a battle-axe in her hands, the distance was too great for me to see if it landed, but hearing no yelp or whimpering, I reckon that it didn’t. In my moment of distraction, I was a little slow to react as my attacker thrusted his spear again, the spear tip punched through my chain mail and into my side. It wasn’t a deep wound, but it still hurt. What hurt more, was the victorious grin on the dog-man’s face, “Think that’s gonna be enough? Clearly, ye haven’t fought my kind before.” I gritted my teeth, it hurt quite a lot in fact, “Allow me to show ya how it’s done, HAAARH!” I swung the warhammer with might and anger, and heard the cracking of bones as the heavy hammer-head struck the dog-man’s chest. The blow shook the creature, but it was still alive. Which was more than what could be said about a lot of the creatures, four had already been slain, and the battle was not turning to their favor. I lifted my warhammer once more, aiming for the wounded creature’s head, and finally the creature had barked up it’s last tree. In the distance I saw the warrior-woman with the battle-axe missing yet another swing, and now another of the dog-men was coming to aid his mate. In an instant, I dropped my shield and warhammer, as none of the creatures seemed to focus on me at the moment, reaching behind my back, i grabbed and readied my crossbow. The steel-tipped bolt was released with a thwak, flying through the air, I held my breath, as if that would affect the shot at all. The bolt started dropping, but managed to strike the one dog-man in his leg, though it didn’t look to stop or halt him.
I was about to ready another bolt, but with no easy targets, and at the risk of hitting a friendly person, I merely kept it at the ready, observing the rest of the battle, as the creatures one by one was deleted from this existence. I now noticed a figure flying high above the confict, several arrows had struck her, and she seemed to be having a rough time. With the last creature slain, I holstered the bolt and placed the crossbow back on my back once more, and picking up my shield and warhammer. There was still a tuft of fur, clotted with dark-red blood stuck to the head of it, but a swift wipe with my gauntlet got most of it off. The aftermath quickly turned from the victorious into the obnoxious, and I’m still not quite sure how to explain it, honestly. From what I could understand this was “normal” behaviour for the group, I decided to not be too friendly at first, especially the Tieflings, as if one wasn’t enough trouble, this group had TWO. Besides, who have ever heard of a flying Dwarf? We can see the blue glow of the moon just fine from the ground, and if height is needed, we’ll climb mountain, that’s just logical, right?
Apparantly, Sylvia was the wife, or widow as it would turn out, of a man whom the group met, but who didn’t make it with them. Already shaken up from the attack, she just sobbed and broke down from hearing the news. The group eventually persuaded her, with obnoxious theatrics to distract the children (so Tiefling claimed) in the background, to pack up and leave for Athlin. The solitude of the farm would make it difficult, well, almost impossible, for help to arrive in time. We were all invited to stay the night, though the one Tiefling, whose name I didn’t catch, and the bard Panrry, who caused the flying, were locked out (after reparing the door) and were to keep watch for the night. I wonder where this group is headed, perhaps I could tag along, if they’re going southward tomorrow...
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♡ and ♒ for Sycamore, ☆ and ☮ for Alain, ■ for Manon, and ♥ for Meyer!
Sycamore—
♡ Romantic Headcanon:
Sycamore is, and always has been, absolutely a romantic at heart. He acknowledges, when he thinks of it, that this might seem like something of a cliché; one of Kalos’ primary stereotypes is that it’s the most romantic and lovey-dovey regions, and while that isn’t as true as some other regions of the world would like to believe (Kanto in particular tend to take romanticization too far when it comes to Kalos), he also knows that he’s not exactly helping matters (if they can be helped) by being such a hopeless romantic himself. However, he has long since come to terms with himself and has accepted that, well, he is a romantic. He’s not so much a romantic in the “love forever at first sight” kind of way, but more so in the sense that he loves candlelit dinners, walks on the beach at sunset, heartfelt conversations while cuddling in bed, bouquets specially crafted for an individual, homemade chocolates and candies—things like that. (Not that he can actually make chocolates, mind you, but he really likes the idea. Funnily enough, this is a tradition that actually originated in Johto, so for all that Kantoneans might look at Kalos as being the region of love and romance, Sycamore thinks perhaps they should look next door a little more often.) He also does believe in true love, in a sense. Again, it’s not so much that he believes in love at first sight, or even so much that someone can have only one true love in their lifetime. More like, Sycamore believes that true love can be found, and can be developed, and two people can love each other for the rest of their natural lives … but that this relationship, like all relationships, does need equal input from both parties and isn’t something that can just exist without some effort being put in. True love exists, but effortless true love does not, if that makes sense. And this doesn’t make the notion any less romantic to Sycamore. If anything, it makes it more romantic in his eyes, because the idea that two people could come together to equally work on the love shared between them is, in his eyes, one of the most beautiful concepts of all.
All of this said, Sycamore has only ever had romantic / sexual attraction to men. And specifically, he has a type, and that type tends to be broad shouldered and muscular, more often than not with facial hair of some kind, and often some body hair, too. That’s his type sexually, anyway; romantically he’s attracted to bravery, loyalty, sincerity, fun-loving and exciting individuals, with a bonus (night requirement, really, after he unofficially adopts Alan) of being family-oriented (or at the very least tolerant of children, because honestly, if you can’t accept his kid you’re going to have to get out of his life, no exceptions). These are just some base traits of what he looks for in a partner, but it’s enough to give you a general gist. ;)
All of that said, it should be noted that as much as he is a hopeless romantic at heart, this doesn’t mean that Sycamore sees romance as being all-important, or the end-all, be-all of relationships. Far from it, in fact. He’s the one who introduces a rather concerned, anxious Alan to what aromanticism and asexuality are, talks him through the concepts and helps him realize that this is perfectly fine and normal, and that he’s fine (more than, really—he’s marvelous) just the way he is. Sycamore’s a romantic, but there are so many different types of love out there and he’s open and inclusive to all of them, not a worry about that. (In other words, he adores his aroace son. Again, if you can’t accept his kid, get out of his life.)
♒ Cooking / Food Headcanon:
Sycamore’s cooking ability is … rather all over the place.
To be entirely honest, he didn’t do much in the way of cooking at all prior to unofficially adopting Alan. In childhood, prior to setting out on his journey, his parents did all the cooking for him (as is to be expected, given that he was a child). After setting out on his journey, he mostly carried non-perishable food goods and snacks (like, a half of a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a jar of jam, for instance) with him that he could slap together while on the road / in the event he didn’t make it to a town with a restaurant. After abandoning his journey to return to school (and then university) it still wasn’t a problem because the schools had cafeterias / on-campus eateries that he could partake in. So even though his university roommate, Fulbert, told him time and again that he should learn how to cook real food, because one day he was going to actually have to be (gasp!) an adult and fend for himself, and when that day came he wouldn’t have a cafeteria to cook for him, Sycamore usually waved that commentary off (or used one hand to mime a talking mouth) while eating cereal out of a baseball helmet. (You may remember Fulbert bringing that one up during the fight he had with Sycamore over whether or not Sycamore was right to take / should keep Alan. If you ask Fulbert, it is one of the most outrageous things Sycamore ever did during their time as roommates, “… and that’s saying something.”)
After university, when he lived on his own, he realized that, to a degree, Fulbert had been right. (Note: He never told Fulbert this, and never would.) However, he still didn’t really learn to cook. He had cereal, and could make sandwiches, and sometimes when he was feeling very fancy he’d get one of those frozen dinners to toss in a skillet or in the oven to cook. Sometimes they had vegetables and everything. Amazing. However, after unofficially adopting Alan, Sycamore quickly came to the realization that things like eating cake for breakfast, or cereal for all three meals, isn’t exactly a good diet for a five-year-old child—and that, if he’s going to have this five-year-old child that is living with him eat nutritious meals, he should probably make a concentrated effort to improve the standards of food around the house. So with that said, Sycamore got some recipes from his parents and started making dedicated efforts to learn how to cook. Some efforts were more successful than others. Sycamore is very good with various kinds of pasta dishes, as well as various soups. To his frustration, he can’t bake worth a damn for the most part, with the exception of cookies that he and Alan make every year for Festival de la Vie. (Thus, birthday cakes and the like are usually store-bought, but he still makes sure to get very good ones.) He started eating three square meals a day along with Alan, as well as little snacks throughout the day, and marveled at the fact that actually eating a healthier, more balanced diet really did give him more energy and made him feel better. Who knew.
(A reminder: Sycamore had just turned twenty-five when he took Alan in—like, I think my current timeline has it about five days after his twenty-fifth birthday. So he was still in his mid-twenties when that happened, and it happened suddenly, so I think we can forgive him for being a bit of a mess, especially since—considering the lab and his status as a professor and everything—he was still far less of a mess than I am right now at age twenty-seven.)
Alan—
☆ Happy Headcanon:
One of Alan’s absolute favorite activities—something that is guaranteed to make him feel at peace, feel free, feel happy—is flying on Lizardon. The feeling is, to him, nigh indescribable; there’s the thrill that comes with swooping through the air, whether Lizardon is diving, or pulling a turn so sharp that he at first shoots straight up into the air, and then flips into a turn so smooth that for a moment Alan is actually parallel to the ground before Lizardon rolls in the air and rights them again. Lizardon likes to push his speed, to fly faster and stronger depending on the flight, and if he mega evolves during the flight then his endurance and speed is even greater. The thrill is definitely there, and Alan does love the thrill of it. He would be lying if he said he didn’t (and trust me, he isn’t a liar). Both of them love the thrill of it.
But it’s more than that, too. There’s something about the sky that makes him feel alive and free. He feels truly awake when they’re flying, and as such it’s often one of the very first things he does when he wakes up. The two of them go for a morning flight, not only so that Lizardon can stretch his wings, but because although Alan will still have some morning coffee when they get back, flying first thing wakes him up in a way few other things do. There’s something about the air in his lungs at that altitude, the wind through his hair, the sunlight (or moonlight) on his skin; breathing is easier in the sky, and the feeling of himself is something both more real and more … okay than in other circumstances. In the sky, nothing can touch them. They slow or stop for nothing and no one. It’s just the two of them, just Alan and Lizardon, in their own world. Whenever things get to be a bit too much on the ground, Alan knows that flying can make him feel better, even if that feeling is only temporarily. He can enjoy it, for that moment. It’s bliss incarnate.
Aside from flying, he also loves battling—and, specifically, he loves battling opponents that are truly on his level. This is not, as some might believe, because he has a thirst for combat, or for dominating opponents. While he does want to be the strongest, he wants that strength to protect others, and defeating increasingly strong opponents is a part of this only because it gives him the knowledge (and with knowledge comes a feeling of security to ease his anxieties) that he and Lizardon have the strength necessary to protect those they love / the world. (And also each other, but we all know how much Alan thinks about protecting himself. It’s okay, though; Alan’s safety is at least a concern to Lizardon.) So the reason why battling brings Alan joy isn’t about that particular goal of his, nor is it about anything ridiculous like blood lust. On the contrary, Alan finds joy in battling because it’s something that he and Lizardon do together, that they work toward together. Battles aren’t just about the pokémon engaging in combat against each other, nor are they about the trainer shouting commands. They’re not about trophies, medals, or accolades. Instead, they’re about the bond between the human and the pokémon; they’re about the two of them working in tandem, working in sync, accomplishing the same goal together, walking the same path together. Training is a part of this, absolutely (and he loves training with Lizardon, too), but when they’re battling an opponent on their level, Alan’s entire mind focuses on the battle, and on Lizardon, and on what the two of them are accomplishing together. When he wins and feels that rush of euphoria, it’s not just because he won, but rather because they won, together.
And in that, you might notice a theme between these two activities: Alan is happiest when he is with Lizardon, and specifically, when they are doing something that lets them fall into sync, where although they are two individuals, it’s really the two of them … as one. Flying is like this, because even though Lizardon is the one actually flying, anyone who has ever, say, ridden horseback can tell you that the rider puts just as much physical exertion into that as the horse does. Horseback riders have some serious muscle definition, and the exact same thing is true for dragon riders. And with a battle that seriously engages both of them, the same is true; they are both wholly engaged, and we’ve seen multiple times in canon when they even mirror each other’s body language during battles, because that’s how in sync they are. This is particularly true for mega evolution; mega evolution is dependent on their bond, and they have not faced struggles with this because their bond is strong enough that, even when they are both tense and angry during a battle (such as when battling Lysandre in the Flare arc), far from risking Lizardon losing control, all it does is make them both stronger. But the point is, these activities—flying with Lizardon, battling alongside him … these are things Alan enjoys, absolutely and unreservedly. He’s at his most peaceful during a solitary flight with just the two of them, and his most enthusiastic and energetic in a fierce battle (against a good friend—enemies are a different story, but against a dear friend? Look no further than every match he ever has with Ash to see just how happy those battles make him).
Smaller things that make him happy include, but are not limited to: Coffee (and mochas), sweets of various kinds (especially dark chocolate), spending time with and meeting new pokémon, good music, engrossing and entertaining books (both non-fiction and fiction), various board games and some video games, select TV shows, really comfy clothes, positive attention / affection from Sycamore (not that this is hard to get, but he’s happy and grateful every time), really soft blankets and fabrics, and sunny, warm days.
☮ Friendship Headcanon:
Alan has always found it far easier to befriend pokémon than people.
Part of this, as you could guess, stems from the abuse and neglect he had for the first five years of his life, growing up in Isolé Village. While he was far from a feral child (he was, after all, raised by people and not pokémon), the adults in the village all disparaged and disliked him, viewing him as an unwanted burden, and the other children in the village picked up on that and saw him as a convenient target to either blame their own indiscretions on, or otherwise bully without any repercussions. For this reason, the first friend Alan ever had was Soot the houndour puppy, whom he unwittingly stole from its pack, which caused the houndour raid and destruction that resulted in Sycamore finding him in the mountains. Funny how these things work out.
Over the seven years he spent living at the lab (bridging the time from when Sycamore brought him home to when he left on his journey), he slowly opened up and developed some social skills, and became (as we see in the flashbacks) a much happier, brighter child. But he’s still a reserved person by nature, still has some shyness to him, and the truth is that while there are other children in Lumiose City that he could have befriended, potentially, Alan spent a lot of time at the lab, or kept to himself when he was out in the city (or else stuck by Sycamore’s side if they were out together). So he still spent most of his time around Sycamore, any other adults that Sycamore had by the lab (Sophie if she was working, Fulbert or Meyer if they were visiting, et cetera), and thus by the pokémon. I don’t think Alan consciously thinks this way, but subconsciously he finds pokémon more trustworthy than people. I mean, thinking back to Isolé Village, none of the pokémon he ever encountered hated him on principle or mistreated him. Pretty much every human he ever knew before meeting Sycamore did. Even if he doesn’t consciously think about it, that sort of thing sticks with a person, especially a small child. So he’s far more likely to open up to a new pokémon than he is a new person. It’s not uncharacteristic of him to initiate conversation with someone only so that he can ask if it’s all right if he pets their pokémon, particularly if it’s a new one he hasn’t encountered before.
ALL OF THAT SAID— Sycamore did, when he could, gently encourage Alan to interact with children around his age whenever the occasion arose. He never pushed—he fully respects that Alan is reserved, he understands precisely why this is (natural personality + experiences), he doesn’t want to force Alan to do anything that makes him uncomfortable. But like, that summer camp is an annual thing, right? So I imagine that Alan must have attended, though most years he just helped out, because he was the Professor’s assistant, after all, it’s his job to help run it. But one year Louie (yeah, that Louie) decided to single him out as a Rival™, and Alan took the bait (tl;dr: Louie suggested that maybe he could be an assistant for Sycamore too, Alan coolly said they weren’t hiring, Louie said “then I’ll just show him how smart and impressive and great I am and take your job” and at that point the gauntlet was thrown, and more specifically, thrown by Alan), so he ended up asking Sycamore if he could participate this time. Sycamore was very excited because yes, yes, Alan wanted to go play with the other children, he wanted to make some friends!!, all the while not realizing that, no, Alan and Lizardon just wanted to beat the shit out of Louie and Garchoo. Whoops. (Well, not Louie specifically, but his pride got pretty badly wounded. He remembers this for all those years to come, while Alan pretty much forgets Louie exists after the summer camp. Whoops.) But that rivalry aside, for the scavenger hunt portion Alan is partnered up with Ayaka (yes, that Ayaka) and, depending on how I want to swing this, potentially anime-verse!Emma. The three of them make a pretty good team (Team Vowel, since all three of their names start with vowel sounds), and so there’s a light friendship there.
(I’ve also considered a situation where, possibly, Emma could be an on-again, off-again childhood friend—like maybe they run into each other around Lumiose City a lot in various different circumstances, and Emma calls him “books-for-brains” and teases him for staying in studying all the time, and Alan surprises her by showing her that he’s just as capable of scaling buildings and running across rooftops as she is, that sort of thing. Maybe they go years without talking, and then even as the police try every trick they can think of to pin some charge on him for the Flare nonsense (fighting tooth and nail against Diantha all the while), the Looker Bureau—and specifically, Emma—steps up to say nope, nu-uh, no way, that’s bogus, we did our own investigation and you’ve got nothin’, and also you’re violating a couple laws here so you might wanna stop. But I don’t know, that’s all up in the air, it’s just something I’ve considered before.)
In general, when it comes to human friendships, Alan gravitates toward people who are a.) great with pokémon, and b.) are not pushy, and therefore c.) respect his boundaries and the fact that he’s very introverted, still reserved even as he grows, and needs his space at times. Pretentious attitudes and arrogance are extremely off-putting to him, as are bullies, people who are almost constantly loud and hyperactive (it’s one thing to get excited sometimes, but it’s another to be Extra™ all the damn time—that is exhausting for an introvert like Alan), and of course people who are cruel to or mistreat pokémon. (That’s not even a “we can’t be friends” thing for him. That’s an instant “we are enemies” thing for him. No excuses.)
Manon—
■Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon :
Manon grew up in a boarding house, which is run by her aunt. For those who are unfamiliar, a boarding house is sort of like a dorm for adults; it’s a house that is filled with bedrooms that tenants can rent for short or extended stays (sometimes up to years), and has common areas such as a living room, dining room, bathrooms, et cetera. If you’ve ever seen the cartoon Hey Arnold!, Arnold lives in a boarding house. That’s where Manon grew up.
The boarding house itself is pretty old. It’s a building made of brick and has a very antiquated feel to it, and much of the furniture inside also seems to be several decades out of date, both due to Manon’s aunt’s taste in furniture, and also due to the fact that even with tenants money can still be scarce, particularly with the medical bills for Manon’s mother. (Manon’s mother is unwell; due to an accident that happened around the time of Manon’s birth that no one will tell her about, her mother’s physical health is frail and her mental health tends to be a bit unstable. She has her days of lucidity, when she’s perfectly aware of everything around her and remembers most things, but then she also has periods where she thinks that she’s several decades in the past, isn’t really aware of what’s going on around her, doesn’t recognize her daughter at all, et cetera. She’s still sweet and kind to Manon either way, so she’s never been abusive or anything, but she does need active care, and that’s what Manon’s aunt provides for her.) But despite being an old building the boarding house is still in good shape (as is the furniture inside), and is three stories tall. Manon’s room is on the top floor (because she likes to feel tall), and faces the street. She has a big window with a bench seat in it, and she often liked to sit on that and people / pokémon watch from the window. She would sketch pictures of the people she saw going by in her diary and make up stories about them. She still does this sometimes, even as an adult, albeit from outdoor seats at cafés instead of from her bedroom window.
Back to the point: Manon’s bedroom is actually one of the largest in the boarding house, second probably only to her aunt’s room and her mother’s room. She has the big window with the bench seat, as well as a four-poster bed with a sheer canopy, like a princess. She has an unfortunate shag carpet (which is light green), and a wallpaper border up against the ceiling that has rainbow imagery. She has a bookshelf against the wall across from her bed, but rather than books, every single shelf is stuffed with plushies instead. (She also has a lot of plushies on her bed. Like, a lot. She has a lot of plushies.) Her walls are dotted with various drawings, as well as some pictures she liked from magazines, usually of models or actresses she really liked for whatever reason. (Years later, as a teenager, she would come to realize what that reason was and have an, “OOHHHHHH” moment.) Her four-poster bed frame is white wood, and she has white wood dressers and nightstands as well. Her table lamp has a flowery lampshade.
Her bedroom aside, as mentioned, everything else in the boarding house was pretty old-fashioned. Shag carpets abound, rickety wooden stairs leading between each of the floors, a swinging door leading into the kitchen. Still, Manon spent plenty of time rampaging around the boarding house growing up (albeit she wasn’t always allowed in the tenants’ rooms—only with their permission, and how well she got on with them varied from tenant to tenant), so it’s still home to her even long after she’s grown, despite her complicated relationships with her mother and aunt. (Like, she loves them, but her mother is ill and her aunt is always tired and rather harried, plus can be rather stern, so particularly around the times she leaves to become a trainer, she’s not as close to them as she would like, and for example, didn’t think of them once during the Flare crisis until all was said and done. She felt really bad about that and resolved to make things better, and over the years both she and her aunt make a concentrated effort to have a closer relationship, and make a lot of progress as well. Her mother, for understandable reasons, finds it harder—but Manon still makes an effort to spend more time with her.) Additionally, Manon has always found it super cool that she grew up in a boarding house, because there are often very interesting tenants who sometimes told her cool stories of things they had experienced, and plus, how many kids could say they grew up in a boarding house? Hardly any, if any. But she could, and that’s cool. Even as an adult she doesn’t regret it. She still thinks it’s cool. Try and tell her it’s not and you’ll be wrong in her eyes, so there.
Meyer—
♥ Family Headcanon:
Family is very, very important to Meyer. He grew up in a family-oriented household; as the second oldest of four siblings, he naturally slipped into the role of helping look after his two younger siblings while also spending time with his older one, and loved spending time with both of his parents as well. His parents, in fact, would often arrange family vacations, board game nights, et cetera to try and spend more time with the kids whenever they were home. Various journeys made this difficult, but letters and phone calls were important. Meyer learned the importance of family quite early on.
So of course, this has transferred to how he treats his own family. When he and Teresa ended up divorcing, it was important to both of them that it be amicable. In fact, while they did attend some couple’s therapy to try and work things out and mediate, both were very attentive to the fact that it had gotten to a point where they just weren’t a good fit anymore, and decided to part ways while it still could be amicable, versus when things had gotten so toxic that they couldn’t even be friends anymore. As such? They still are friends, and this is very, very good with regards to Clemont and Bonnie (and it was really because of Clemont and Bonnie that Meyer and Teresa were so attentive to this; neither one wanted the kids to suffer). Bonnie, fortunately, was only around three at the time, so honestly she was too little to really recognize that her parents were divorcing and that Meyer had moved out. Clemont, on the other hand, was about six, so he was more aware of it and it didn’t make him happy. He understood enough to know that Meyer had moved out, that Meyer and Teresa weren’t going to be married anymore, and from his perspective he took it to mean that Meyer didn’t want to be with them as a family anymore, that he wanted to leave and go do other things because he didn’t love them as much. Meyer assured him this was not the case, as did Teresa, but Clemont was still hurt and standoffish for a while. Meyer gave him space to come to terms with his feelings, and once Clemont realized that Meyer still loved them (and that Meyer and Teresa were still on good terms, both wanted this, et cetera), he came around and was able to have a good relationship with Meyer again. (Meyer, of course, was very grateful, because trust me, that wasn’t easy for Meyer, either.)
In later years, Meyer marries Sycamore and gains a husband, and in so doing he also gains a stepson, Alan. Meyer had actually known Alan for years prior to this point; Sycamore and Meyer were friends back when Sycamore first brought Alan home, and so in a way Meyer has seen Alan grow up, albeit in that sort of neighborly, family friend kind of way prior to the romance blossoming between Sycamore and Meyer. (So, a much spottier version than what Sycamore bore witness to, but nonetheless.) He already had some familiarity with Alan therefore, knew he was a good kid, and that helped him have faith in Alan after the Flare crisis was all said and done. (Like, he didn’t even have a moment of doubt. Sycamore had some trepidation about what Meyer might think at first, and was quite relieved to see that there wasn’t a doubt in Meyer’s mind that Alan was a good—albeit hurting, at the moment—kid.) Teresa has some trepidation about Alan spending time around Clemont and Bonnie—she doesn’t think he’s a bad person, per se, nor does she think that he’s a criminal or intentionally dangerous or anything like that, but she just worries that an accident could happen, you know, she’s just uncertain—but Meyer assures her that Alan is good and that he’ll be careful with Clemont and Bonnie, and she trusts Meyer, so she trusts Alan, too. Even before Alan is his stepson, Meyer takes care to make sure that no one within earshot has misconceptions about him.
(And specifically, the situation with Teresa happens when Meyer goes to pick up Clemont and Bonnie for a visitation weekend, and Bonnie cheerfully says she called Alan to come pick her up, and there’s a moment of surprise before Alan gets there because, well, he had some free time, and Bonnie called him to ask him if he could fly her back on Lizardon, so he agreed. And he’s able to take her with him, but that’s when Teresa and Meyer have a talk because Teresa has trepidation about Bonnie just flying off on a charizard like that, even with the charizard’s trainer right there, because accidents could happen and, well, the Flare crisis was a pretty big accident—but again, things get smoothed over. Clemont chimes in and helps some, too. He knows Alan is a good guy. Teresa doesn’t need to be worried; Bonnie’s safe with Alan.)
Meyer really makes an effort to reach out to Alan, because it’s important to him that Alan knows that he is a welcome part of this family. (He is, as a fic that I’m planning to post on Father’s Day will show, the one who finally clues Sycamore into the fact that he needs to talk to Alan about adoption and, more importantly, actually officially adopt the boy already—in the prime timeline, at least, Meyer is the one who does that.) He doesn’t want Alan to feel left out, or like he can’t be there, and the two of them do get along pretty well. Sycamore, of course, is delighted by this. (Because again, looking above, accepting Alan is a requirement for serious romantic relationships. Ex-boyfriend Lionel learned this the hard way.)
So yes, Meyer is quite family oriented. He cares a lot about the kids and also his husband. And it doesn’t matter that Alan is technically his stepson (or even that Alan isn’t even his stepson yet in, say, To Devour the Sun), because he loves him just the same. Again, he’s part of the family, and once Meyer and Sycamore are married he’s one of the kids. That he’s Meyer’s son by marriage doesn’t matter. Still counts just the same.
#headcanon meme#ryttu3k#these are always like several books long lmao#sorry about that#i just have . . . a lot of headcanons . . .#i haven't decided whether or not alan and/or ayaka remember each other from the summer camp in tsme 1#but louie def remembers alan#and alan def does not remember louie#in fact he keeps forgetting about him and then just dislikes him again at each new meeting#like it doesn't matter how many new first impressions louie gets#he's just an unlikable person to alan#alas poor louie#you are too pretentious to be tolerated#anyway#professor sycamore#champion alan#my valiant dragon son#trainer manon#meyer
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Good morning everyone and Pete… time for another post which is this crazy idea from one of my fellow scribes…but food fun…E is a doozy…
Did you know?
There are 95069 words that end with E…of course, not all food-related but there are quite a few so I have not gone for the obvious many of your favourites will not be here …Brownie being one but never fear chocolate is still featured…
Abalone…
Image by 덕효 홍 from Pixabay
Or sea snails…I have never tasted these I have seen them on cookery shows and posh menus…it is also illegal to take abalone from the ocean. Numbers of abalone are now at critically low levels because of over-exploitation. Poaching is the biggest threat to abalone. People in local communities are either paid money or given drugs by large syndicates to illegally remove abalone from the ocean.
95% of abalone comes from aquaculture, eating non-farmed abalone is truly a rarity…
Agrafe…
Image by congerdesign from Pixabay
A winemaking term for the metal clip used to secure the cork in a bottle of champagne or sparkling wine…That was a new one for me…I didn’t know that …
Aubergine…
Is actually a colour — aubergine — that resembles the purple of the aubergine or as it is also known as the eggplant. … Apparently, way back in the 1700s, early European versions of eggplant were smaller and yellow or white. They looked a bit like goose or hen’s eggs, which led to the name “eggplant.”
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Small purpleThai eggplants
The daddy…
Tiny pea eggplants used in Thai Curries
It looks to me like the earlier European versions have had a revival or never went away as we get lots of small..tiny eggplants here and in all colours…yellow included…
Buckle…
The history of this is fascinating and shows how one dessert has many names depending on where you come from… this one has some great names…such as cobbler, pandowdy, grunt, slump, buckles, crisp, croustade, bird’s nest pudding or crow’s nest pudding. They are all based on seasonal fruits and berries, in other words, whatever fresh ingredients are readily at hand. They are all homemade, simple to make and rely more on taste than fancy pastry preparation.
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Deconstructed crumble
Buckle topping
Early settlers of America were very good at improvising. When they first arrived, they bought their favourite recipes with them, such as English steamed puddings. Not finding their favourite ingredients, they used whatever was available. That is how all these traditional American dishes came about with such unusual names.
The early colonist was so fond of these juicy dishes that they often served them as the main course, for breakfast, or even as a first course. It was not until the late 19th century that they became primarily desserts.
Calzone…
A folded pizza…I’m sure someone will tell me it is not just a pizza…half-moon shaped and stuffed with cheese, meat and or vegetables, fried or baked and often served with a marina sauce.
Cerviche…
This is more to my taste …raw fish cured in lime or lemon juice spiced up with chilli peppers, onions, coriander, tomatoes…like a fish salsa…
Deglaze…
Just a posh word for adding cold liquid to a hot pan and releasing all the lovely stuck on bits of meat and juices is how you make the best gravy for your Sunday Roast…
Did you know? Those brown bits are called Fond which is the French word for bottom…
Ganache…
Dieters beware this glaze or icing is made from chocolate and cream…it can be used to glaze pastries or fill pastries…
Lattice…
Lattice is the pretty topping for pies…very easy to do and just adds that little extra…
My individual latticed apple pies…
Pottage…
Is a term for a thick stew of vegetables, grains and or meat/fish this dish goes back to medieval peasants who grew what they could and cooked it slow to produce a thick stew or soup, which they ate with dark rye bread…It filled the tummy on a cold day…
Poutine…
A dish of french fries, gravy and cheese curds… originating from the Canadian province of Quebec
Not something I have eaten but it looks delicious…
Sardine…
A small oily fish which is part of the herring family…hubby loves sardines on toast as do the grandkids…according to the FDA sardines contain less mercury than other fish they are also as high in Omega 3 fatty acids as pink salmon…
Shitake…
An edible mushroom native to East Asia…it is also considered to be a medicinal mushroom in some forms of traditional medicine. They grow naturally on decaying hardwood trees…you can purchase them both fresh or dried… it is said that dried they provide a deeper more balanced medicinal effect…Here they can be sauteed and served as a side dish, they are often sliced and added to miso soup, added to stir-fries and used to make a stock base for Kombu broth, a delicious, balanced, health-promoting broth.
They are also quite a meaty mushroom although I love mushrooms and do eat these they are not among my favourites …
Treacle…
A treacle tart is…sigh…Treacle is an uncrystallised syrup made during the refining of sugar. The most common forms of treacle are golden syrup, a pale variety, and a darker variety known as black treacle. Black treacle I use in my Christmas cakes and puds and also gingerbread…
The golden syrup I use sometimes in a steamed pudding or make a tart with breadcrumbs and served with vanilla custard…sigh…not good for the waistline but a delicious treat…
That’s all for this week see you in two weeks for the letter F (aperitiF)…Yes, please!
Please stay safe as it seems in some places lockdowns are being introduced again…not good xx
About Carol Taylor:
Enjoying life in The Land Of Smiles I am having so much fun researching, finding new, authentic recipes both Thai and International to share with you. New recipes gleaned from those who I have met on my travels or are just passing through and stopped for a while. I hope you enjoy them.
I love shopping at the local markets, finding fresh, natural ingredients, new strange fruits and vegetable ones I have never seen or cooked with. I am generally the only European person and attract much attention and I love to try what I am offered and when I smile and say Aroy or Saab as it is here in the north I am met with much smiling.
Some of my recipes may not be in line with traditional ingredients and methods of cooking but are recipes I know and have become to love and maybe if you dare to try you will too. You will always get more than just a recipe from me as I love to research and find out what other properties the ingredients I use contain to improve our health and well being.
The environment is also something I am passionate about and there will be more on this on my blog this year
Exciting for me hence the title of my blog, Retired No One Told Me! I am having a wonderful ride and don’t want to get off, so if you wish to follow me on my adventures, then welcome! I hope you enjoy the ride also and if it encourages you to take a step into the unknown or untried, you know you want to…Then, I will be happy!
Please stay safe and well and follow your governments safety guidelines remember we are all in this together xxx
The Culinary Alphabet with a twist…The letter E (agrafE)
Good morning everyone and Pete… time for another post which is this crazy idea from one of my fellow scribes…but food fun…E is a doozy…
The Culinary Alphabet with a twist…The letter E (agrafE) Good morning everyone and Pete... time for another post which is this crazy idea from one of my fellow scribes...but food fun...E is a doozy...
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Come, now is the time to worship. After an impromptu time of worship (read about that here) and then sharing my desire with others that I wanted to host a planned time of home worship at some point in the future- it happened! We did it!! And it we had a great time of fellowship singing praises to the Lord. Let me tell you how it went! I’ll talk about planning and hosting, ‘At Home Christian Worship,’ and the guestlist.
youtube
Was this the first time you hosted this kind of thing?
No. This was my second time, but my first time hosting this here in South Korea. 🙂
Well, how did it go?
It went great!!
No, seriously, it did!
So what did you all do?
Okay! So that’s what you want to know!! Why didn’t you just ask me that it in the first place……..? HAHA I’m just joking! 😉 Here’s everything that you’d probably want to know so maybe YOU CAN HOST An AT HOME WORSHIP EVENT TOO! If you do, please let me know how it goes!!
Planning and Hosting
Well, I planned a date and let other musicians I’ve met know about it and asked them if they were free to come over that day. Some were and some weren’t. Some were on the fence…………… (they didn’t say that, but I felt like they were). I get the struggle because most of us have lots of obligations already on our plate and they were probably thinking so what is this supposed to be anyway? (So, as far as moving forward and choosing the best date and time, I threw out an option that first was good for me and when at least ONE person was solid and committed to come at that date and time THEN I made a flyer and went with it! You will never host an event where everyone you think that would love it will be available to come. It just never works out that way. I prayed throughout that Holy Spirit would lead and make opportunity for those He wants to come to actually come.)
Created this flyer using Spark.
The purpose of this opportunity, in my mind and how I described it to others, was simply a time to come together as leaders and encourage one another through song as we sing or play before the Lord. Nothing special, just an informal, relaxed time of bringing what you’ve got (really it’s what God gave you) and giving it (back) to the Lord.
Notice I posted in the group using the free BAND app.
Before the day came, I created a group using the free BAND app (it seems to be popular here in South Korea) and I sent the link to those that indicated they were coming. On it, I put my address, what to expect and most importantly, I asked them to start posting YouTube songs there so we could listen to and become familiar with them beforehand. Everyone was invited to post songs that they wanted to suggest and do. I suggested each person offer up 3. I think I posted like 10 because I couldn’t make up my mind!!!! (Don’t do that though becasuse no one really had time to listen to all those songs before coming!! Yikes!) I ended up making a YouTube playlist and as suggestions came, I just added it onto the list. The list was posted in the app and on Facebook for all to see (and be inspired)!
The day of, I sent out reminders and answered questions typical to anyone who hosts folks in your home. I was happy that someone ventured to come who hadn’t even met me before but was invited by a mutual friend who was coming. She came and arrived on her own- you go girl!!! Glad you were brave and came out! You are welcome here anytime! If you receive last minute cancellations- they happen! Remember how, in the beginning, you prayed that the Lord would use this time? Remember how you prayed that those that Holy Spirit draws out would come out? We have no idea what God doing so don’t act like you do! Be gracious and maybe next time, they will be able to come. Sharing ‘how it went‘ after the fact (hence THIS blog post!) can help with those who just need to know in advance how things like this go. It can help calm those nerves! -wink wink- Or it can help to show that YES you CAN have a great time in the Lord with people you don’t know (or don’t know well yet)!)
Dinner time. Since the event was planned for 4:30-6:30pm, I also invited anyone who was interested to stay afterwards for dinner. I offered it actually because some needed to come after work and I didn’t want to send them home hungry. I also thought maybe the meal would help them to come over right away. For this event, I made “Slow-Cooker Chicken Tortilla Soup” on the stove. I didn’t bring my crockpot here to Korea unfortunately, so I figured it would just have to work out this way. I’ve made this receipe before and it was always a hit. It is super easy to make. I did serve it with the following condiments: sour cream, sliced avocadoes, cherry tomatoes, grated cheese and a LARGE BAG OF TORTILLA CHIPS!!! Whoo hoo!!!!
Here is the recipe! I changed it to 16 servings and I didn’t use super exact amounts but whatever was closest in the cans (i.e. all of each can).
Snacks. Gotta have the snacks. I placed a few bowls of snacks around to help break the ice (and stomaches of mainly my own children who smelled the food and wanted to eat but they needed to wait until 6:30). Offer water, tea, coffee, milk… whatever you have to help folks settle in and feel comfortable.
Hosts. I’m so thankful for a friend who was able to come over early and just help me welcome everyone as they arrived. We need those hosts – and friends!! Thank you! Oh, and also thank you for washing all my dirty dishes as I was preparing the soup!! You complete me! 😍
Make sure you invite friends who are sold out for Jesus; it is so good for the soul! (But let that not be the ONLY people you open your doors to! hmmm)
At Home Christian Worship
The event
So once we officially started (pretty close to starting time 4:45pm I think?) I opened us up in prayer thanking God for everyone who was there and asking the Lord God to bless our time together. I then had everyone go around and introduce themselves. That was probably the only awkward time of the whole evening; in my opinion it can be a bit difficult talking about oneself, but it was quickly forgotten by the main event- the music!!
On one accord. I suggested the first song, as I heard it mentioned during conversation and we just needed to get things going. So I typed in “10,000 Reasons” by Matt Redman and my computer was already hooked up to the TV and everyone sang/played using the chord sheet that showed up on the TV screen. (How did I find the chord sheets? As songs were suggested, I would look it up by typing the name of the song (10000 reasons + chord + pdf ) or (10000 reasons + chord key of G + pdf) and whala! I would download only from links that were reputable to me. I didn’t use Worship Together this time because the chords and lyrics were too small to see on the TV, but they DO have all the lyrics and chords there for free access to most christian worship songs! Check it out! For other detailed information on how I went paperless, read here!
So the “rule” was, when it was your turn (we simply went round and around in a circle) to suggest a song, you were asked to then lead the song. Gasp!! So we did have at least one guest that self-identified as a “non-musical” person but instead came for fellowship who balked at the idea (it was funny when we told her the rule afterwards). During worship though, someone else just kinda took over as the Spirit led. It was beautiful. And what does ‘leading the song‘ mean? In this situation, it meant choosing the key (or I helped out with that – basically whatever we could easily play on guitar using our capo!! 😆I had another device which showed music in a different key to be used with the capo and on the TV was the actual key for the pianist (who seemed to be able to play anything!) connected via HDMI to my computer…) But leading the song most importantly meant leading where people sang next………… Do we sing the verse twice? When do we go to the chorus? We simply followed the lead of the person who chose the song… maybe near the end of the song the Spirit led us to just keep on going with the song…that is something the leader (and the group) would be sensitive to and lead everyone in the way in which the leader wanted us to go. Never done it before? Why not try it out in a group setting like this and give it a whirl!
Set list. These are the songs that we ended up singing, with each person having an opportunity to offer up a song and lead the song for the group. I sang and played songs that were new to me and so did others. One friend would explain before or after why she chose the song she did and I think her words really added to the song. She’s a great worship leader!
Check out the YouTube playlist of these songs here!
Here’s a recording of “With All I Am.”
At about 6:30, we ended our worship time by doing one of the songs we sang over and I asked my son to record us. I wanted to try and include those that weren’t able to make it. I wanted them to know that we thought about and prayed for them. And I knew that I would write this blog to share it with others and I want YOU to know that I’m praying for you. I’m praying for those that will take up the mantle and lead wherever and however God calls you. The fields are ripe for harvest (John 4:31-38)!!! I’m praying for laborers to go out into the fields now! (Matthew 9:35-38)
youtube
We ended our time together by enjoying a meal with one another with those who could stay. It was a great time in the Lord! We even got to see a friend in action as she naturally loved on our youngest participant after dinner with singing and dancing.
Guestlist
United body of Christ.
Guests who came represented different nations and spoke different languages: English, Korean, German, Spanish and Swahili. Guests also served at or attend different churches. The #usagdaegu Area IV Peace On The Rock (POTR) Contemporary 5pm service on Camp Walker, Hana Church with uploaded sermons on YouTube interpreted to English, Urdu, Spanish or Khmer depending on listeners, and also Dongshin English Service located in Suseong-Gu were represented.
Make room for more. The purpose of this event was to invite those who played instruments or sang to come together and worship Jesus, the name above every other name, and encourage one another through song and fellowship. It is true that I specifically invited those I knew from my various church-related circles but the offer was open for anyone to come. I was happy when a few people came who wouldn’t describe themselves as “musical” but came simply because a friend invited them. May we (and I) continue to invite those who may not be necessarily interested but, because you asked, may they come, taste and see, that the Lord IS good! (Psalm 34:8) He knows what we need even before we ask! (Matthew 6:8)
Are you hosting again?
Absolutely! I’m always hosting something. I’ve always been bringing people together but now I have a sole purpose. I want to help build relationships that draw others to a deeper understanding of and obedience to the will of God. I believe we can do that when we have a safe place to just be ourselves, have real conversations and explore God. Maybe the question isn’t am I hosting again… but perhaps…. are you coming?
This is just another documentation of my guitar journey and spiritual growth. Please share with others and tell me how this was helpful for you! Let me know when you host!! May God bless your time together as everything that has breath praise the Lord!
Hosting Christian Worship at Home Come, now is the time to worship. After an impromptu time of worship (read about that…
#faith#gathering#guitar#home#homeworship#invite#leadership#learning#music#relationships#spiritual#Spiritual Growth#worship
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Bright Wall/Dark Room December 2018: An Essay on A Ghost Story, Certain Women and Food by Marissa Higgins
We are pleased to offer an excerpt from the latest edition of the online magazine, Bright Wall/Dark Room. Their theme this month is "Food." In addition to Marissa Higgins' piece below on "A Ghost Story" and "Certain Women," the new issue also features essays on "A Christmas Story," "Howl's Moving Castle," "Eat Drink Man Woman," "Obvious Child," "Landline," "The Neon Demon," "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia," "Allegro Non Troppo," "Bread" (1918) and "My Best Friend's Wedding." They are also offering discounted holiday gift subscriptions for just $15/year ($10 off the regular annual price) through December 24.
You can read our previous excerpts from the magazine by clicking here. To subscribe to Bright Wall/Dark Room, or look at their most recent essays, click here
In the months after the woman I loved, C., died, I ate meat when drunk, sober, alone, and among strangers. Until then I had been a vegetarian. I would return to the dining hall to devour a double cheeseburger, sans friends, when I’d been there just an hour before, picking at a salad. I ate the burger in two, three bites. Past midnight, I crept to the vending machines, tucked into the basement near the laundry room, and bought multiple packages of Pop-Tarts, Cheetos, and Diet Coke. I drank cheap beer in my dorm room before class in the morning, hungry but avoiding the dining hall, full of friends and their questions.
Alone, I finally had the space to open and honor my grief. What I really wanted, and what I did not want to admit to anyone, not even to myself, was that I wanted my grief to be seen. My grief and my love.
This is something that David Lowery’s A Ghost Story does well. To watch the film, you have to watch grief. Messy, aching, uncomfortable grief. Rooney Mara, playing M, grieves the unexpected death of her partner, C, played by Casey Affleck, who dies in a car accident early in the film. She mourns him, and visible only to viewers and other ghosts, he returns as a simple white sheet, moving through time to watch not only M, but what came before the both of them. A Ghost Story is many strange and beautiful things; a temporal mediation on life; a question of how we haunt others, and ourselves; a statement on what endures, and how we manifest memory. Grief aches throughout.
But for me, A Ghost Story is Rooney Mara eating a pie until she pukes.
M, sitting on the kitchen floor eating pie is an expression of grief that comforts me. Nothing distracts from her ache; Lowery gives audiences no relief. There is no music, so we hear her chew, hear the fork scrape the bottom of the dish. We hear cars pass, a reminder that life goes on around us while we cry into our grief pies. Music would offer a distraction, a place for our brains to go and forge other connections. In loss, grief does not allow such escape.
The camera doesn’t move. M’s face, wet with tears, stays wet with tears. When she slows her chewing to breathe, to wonder if her body is going to reject this much food this fast, we can feel her stomach distend, adjust. When she springs to the bathroom to vomit, the camera brings us no closer. Neither does it turn away.
Reviewers, from film critics to YouTube commenters, struggle with the scene. The general sentiment is: We get it. Why does it have to be so long? That is to say, people understand that eating in grief is painful, mourning is difficult, she eats too much, too quickly, and immediately vomits. What they are saying is: We understand what grief looks like. Why must we sit through it?
*
Women’s trauma surrounds us. Women grieve our losses day in, day out. Not just literal deaths. We grieve the lives we had before sexual assault, domestic abuse, abductions, eating disorders. In movies, women’s trauma is represented as caricature: an anorexic withers away, unable to take even a bite of food during dinner with her family; a wife covers bruises from her husband, terrified to leave an otherwise comfortable life; a woman is brutally raped, reminding us that women’s bodies and pain are collateral damage to further along a plot.
But so rarely do we see women’s grief, uncomfortable and unapologetic. Often when we see a woman’s grief—her pain for any kind of loss—it’s a mere hint. A chip in the glass, a rupture in an otherwise strong facade. We wonder at the depth of her pain, are guided to think: it is beyond imagination. In A Ghost Story, it isn’t beyond imagination. It’s right there: The onus is on you, the viewer, not to look away.
In A Ghost Story, M’s grief takes up space. Grief is space. Grief is seen, if you only will yourself to look.
*
In the six months I spent with C. (yes, that little), I knew. I accompanied her to the hospital; curled beside her in a very narrow hospital bed; laid, alone, in her dorm room bed; beside her, again, in her childhood bed, at her family’s house, just after Christmas, as she healed from an emergency open-heart surgery. I knew that I _____ her. I knew I did not have ___ _____ to tell her.
I never said _ ____ ___. Then she died.
I could not make my grief neat. Friends, classmates, family, professors, a waitress, all asked: What were you two? Was she ___? Are you sure you ____ her? Did she know? I could not answer. I craved validation. Someone, anyone, to put into words what I could not. What we were was obvious, wasn’t it? Not to them, not to me.
What they said instead was: We know grief. Please, do not make us sit through it with you. Please, they said, make your grief small enough to understand.
Corresponding initials aside, my relationship with C. hadn’t been as clear-cut as the M and C of the film. In A Ghost Story, we watch a heterosexual couple kiss, cuddle, bicker about living in the city or the country. With my C., I didn’t know what we were then, and I don’t know what we were now.
I am nearing a decade since her death and the questions have not changed. I am asked: Well did you ever ____ ___ with C.? Did you ever talk about ____? Did you feel____? Did you say _ ____ ___?
These questions haunt me, as does knowing I can never answer them. Words were not, are not, enough. Perhaps all I can do is look at my own grief, will myself not to cut away.
*
IFC Films
Food pulled me to C. before her death, too. In Certain Women, Beth (Kristen Stewart) and Jamie (Lily Gladstone), meet at a local diner for several late, late night orders of burgers and soups. Beth eats, Jamie watches. Beth, exhausted from her job as a lawyer, teaches a community class on education law that Jamie, a rancher, takes for seemingly no reason. Jamie drives her car into the parking lot, following other cars, and settles into class.
The first night C. invited me to her room for whiskey and pizza, I had walked around my campus, aimless. Why am I outside? I’d wondered. Why is my body taking me in circles? The cars could have led Jamie anywhere. My feet could have taken me to my bed. Chance changes so much.
Of course, the reason Jamie stays in the class is evident; she is attracted to Beth. Their relationship remains entirely ambiguous, but viewers—and the characters themselves—feel the tension.
At the diner, Beth eats a few spoonfuls of the soup, slices a burger in half and bites into it. She is messy, quick, slouched. The camera doesn’t shy away from a woman eating. She talks with her mouth full, wipes her mouth on a napkin still wrapped around silverware. You can practically feel the grease on her fingers, the skin around her mouth. There are no delicate salads, no denials of hunger, of need.
Each time, she orders too much food. I can understand that when one desire feels forbidden, you indulge in another.
Beth pushes her plates, still full of fries and meat, toward Jamie. Jamie refuses each time, the grilled cheese, the soup, the ice cream. How difficult it is to accept love when we do not know it is being offered. When we do not yet realize it is limited.
“Are you gonna come back?” Beth asks Jamie as she chews. The law class, Jamie admits, is one she hadn’t even signed up for. But it doesn’t matter; she’ll return every Tuesday and Thursday, if not for a passion for law, to see Beth. With hope, of course, of taking her to the cattle ranch where she lives and works. With hope, of course, for more.
After three classes, Beth quits. Not just the diner dinners, but the class, the town, the hope. The drive is too long—four hours each way—and she is exhausted. Jamie doesn’t know this until she makes the drive herself and sleeps in her car, parked by Beth’s law office, hoping to see her again. Beth explains, and it is all reasonable; the drive, her fatigue, the roaming cows on country roads at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday night.
What they do not explain, what they do not ask of one another is: Are you ___? Do you ____ me? What are we? Where could this go?
Jamie starts the long drive home to her ranch. Those diner nights are sometimes all you get.
*
Food as desire is nothing new, but trepidation around food, and by extension, trepidation around desire, feels intrinsically queer. C. was always trying to get me to eat. In the dining hall, at restaurants, at divey diners. She kept snacks in her dorm room, but sustenance, too. Endless cans of soup. I was 19, then, and felt like we were middle aged, choosing canned soup and watching movies in bed. We didn’t clamor for fake IDs, happy, instead, to drink rum and Cokes in her room.
I shook with joy.
Before the nausea of grief, it was the nausea of excitement. Proximity to C. shut down my insides. At 1 a.m., she’d drive us to a local diner, order pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Eat, she’d prompt, eat. How could I chew, taste, swallow when she sat across from me?
Months later, when she was dead, food became background. Chew, swallow, chew, swallow. I did not taste, did not count calories, did not pace myself.
C. said Eat, I said yes. C. said Get in my car, we’re going to the diner, I said yes. C. said I am awake, come to the hospital, I said yes. C. said Take the long train to my parent’s house, and stay, and I said yes. Yes, yes, yes. Then C. died and what could I say yes to?
*
Grief is not neat. You think you have more time. The half-eaten burgers, the dropped glances, the surgeries that keep a heart together. These moments, you believe, are the start. These moments promise. In grief, you remember—because you have always known, as I knew—that these moments were both the beginning and the end. Long drives at night, a grilled cheese at the diner, mostly uneaten. Watching her sleep, inches apart, afraid touch would dissolve me. These moments, all of them, make up a life. Grief, too, is living.
This year, on what would have been her 29th birthday, I sit on my kitchen floor and eat an apple pie. Days before, I had poured sliced apples into a crust that came from a box from the local supermarket. To the apples, I add cinnamon, lemon juice, brown sugar, chunks of butter. I bake it, I let it cool. The pie is hideous, but I eat it anyway. No one else eats the pie. I take a fork to it, make it last a few days. At first, I eat it standing, looking out my kitchen window. In the years since C.’s death, I have wanted my grief to be seen. I craved validation; not spotlight, not centering, but nods of understanding. The depth of my grief did not feel seen, the validation of my queerness, of my love, of my queer love, did not appear in ways I could understand it. People, I felt, were always turning up the music, cutting short a scene, wanting to fast forward the aches.
On her birthday, I sit on my kitchen floor, eat my pie, watch myself in my oven’s glass door. People have slowed in their questions, now, eight years later. It is my turn to ask them to myself. I put forkful after forkful of pie into my mouth. Watch myself chew. Now, it is my turn to look at my grief. To ask and answer the questions that haunt me. Now, it is on me not to turn away.
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Crock-Pot 6 Qt 8-in-1 Multi-Use Express Programmable Slow Cooker (SCCPPC600-V1)
New Post has been published on https://usakitchenandhome.com/slow-cookers/crock-pot-6-qt-8-in-1-multi-use-express-programmable-slow-cooker-sccppc600-v1/
Crock-Pot 6 Qt 8-in-1 Multi-Use Express Programmable Slow Cooker (SCCPPC600-V1)
The Crock-Pot 6 Qt 8-in-1 Multi-Cooker can cook meals up to 70% faster than traditional cooking, so you can spend less time in the kitchen and more time with friends and family.
With the Express Multi-Cooker, thanks to 8 pre-set pressurized settings for various foods, you can choose to eat sooner, or you can use the slow cook setting to come back later to a delicious hot meal.
You can also steam, brown, or sauté before programming, making one-pot meals easier than ever.
Crock-Pot Express Crock Programmable 6 Qt 8-in-1 Multi-Cooker
Enjoy the same bold, slow cooked flavor, with the convenience of cooking fast or slow!
Dish Up Dinner to Dessert—Fast!
One versatile appliance
In the current fast-paced world, you’ll need a multi-oven that may maintain your way of life. The Crock-Pot Express Crock Multi-Oven accelerates cooking, so that you can cut back time in the kitchen area and much more time with buddies and family.
Using the Express Multi-Crock-Pot 6 Qt 8-in-1, because of 8 pre-set pressurized settings for a number of foods, you may choose to consume sooner, or make use of the slow prepare setting to return later to some scrumptious hot meal. You may also steam, brown, or sauté before programming, making one-pot meals simpler than ever before.
Tips
Don’t use the fast Pressure Release Method when cooking foods rich in liquid content (soup, stews, etc.). Of these, please make use of the Natural Release Method, waiting a minimum of ten minutes after cooking is finished to rotate the Steam Release Valve.
To make sure lid is attached in locked position, put the lid upon the Multi-Oven and make certain that downward facing arrow (around the lid) aligns using the unlocked symbol. To lock, turn counterclockwise aligning the downward facing arrow aligns using the locked symbol.
4 methods to prepare – slow prepare, fast prepare (pressure prepare), brown/sauté, or steam
8 Fast Prepare settings for various quick, healthy meals in the touch of the mouse
One-touch digital control with Delay Start capacity
Is it dishwasher safe 6-quart non-stick cooking pot
Airtight locking lid stays locked until pressure is released for additional safety
More Ways To Cook
Slow Cook
Don’t want to cook after a long day? Prep your meal in the morning, set cooking time from 30 minutes to 12 hours, and then let dinner cook itself. Choose from high, low, or warm cook settings.
Pressure Cook
In a hurry? Choose from 8 meal options and serve up delicious home-cooked meals in a fraction of the time that traditional cooking requires.
Steam
Prepare meals with less fat and more nutrition! Insert the steaming rack onto the cooking pot to prepare vegetables, fish, or whenever you want to prepare something light and delicious.
Brown & Sauté
Use this setting as the first step during your meal prep: sear roasts to lock in juices or brown meats for stews and chilis. You can also cook tender sautéed dinners with adjustable high and low temperature settings.
Eight Pre-Set Functions
Quickly cook meats, stews, poultry, chili, rice, desserts, and more! Before you program the full meal, you can also steam, brown, and sauté.
One-Touch Digital Control
Convenient digital display shows the cooking time, indicator lights, and buttons to adjust time, temperature, and pressure.
Easy Cleanup
Six-quart non-stick cooking pot is dishwasher safe for easy cleanup. And the convenient lid holder helps keep your countertop mess-free.
Cook Safely
Airtight locking lid remains locked while pressure is inside the unit. The lid will only open when all pressure has been released.
There are several benefits and drawbacks with this Crock-Pot 6 Qt 8-in-1 particular.
Though it looks strange (my first circular slow oven) and appears enjoy it must be unable to hold just as much, I filled this to the fill line (which, as being a bit from the top, causes it to be appear even EMPTIER) so when I put that into my current slow oven Hamilton Beach 33861 Flexcook Slow Oven, Silver it emerged close to the top. To ensure that little bit of eyeball methods really is simply a trick – her same capacity just like any other slow oven I have owned
My first immediate disappointment – because of the nature from the lid, I can not make use of the Reynolds Wrap slow oven inserts I have used since they first arrived on the scene. So cleanup really REQUIRES cleanup… Not what I am accustomed to.
But that’s not really a huge impediment since chances are for many of my slow cooking needs I’ll be using my current one, just simpler and fits better where I have them (this really is way too tall to suit anywhere I’ve available today, I must arrange several things somewhere).
This provides extensive functionality. Frequently the issue using the “jack of trades” factor may be the “master of none” and that is type of how this falls in too. I’ve got a couple of pressure cookers that actually work wonderfully, but on the other hand shiny things cost significantly greater than this did. Technically this labored, and did a reputable job, coupled with I not had normal pressure cookers in my gas range I might have thought it was the be-all-finish-all for pressure cooking. The advantage here might be that this may be their entry into that arena. And it is far simpler to create that step having a combination unit such as this than to purchase a pressure oven by itself, in a greater cost, only to discover that you will not get much benefit throughout your normal cooking routine and also have it wallow in it, unused. A minimum of with this particular, even though you avoid using that function, there are many more to warrant the acquisition.
Grain – don’t even get me began. I have to be missing the grain gene since despite a grain oven I can not make grain well… This did not change that…
But having the ability to sear and brown things in here, then just dump all of those other ingredients on the top and only pressure prepare or simply slow prepare – I *really* such as this feature. The benefit is amazing. Here it’s the same as my normal slow cooker since I’d need to use a pan (and clean that up) to prep the meat, so the inability to use my slow oven plastic bags in such cases does not really incur any other cleanup.
We do not do desserts here, so I am unable to speak towards that function.
I additionally seldom do delay start. I have never been keen on something sitting outdoors the fridge for lengthy amounts of time. The present slow oven I’ve is really a flex one, in order to combine both high and low temps to personalize cooking occasions, however it does not possess a delay start, which most people enjoy.
But bear in mind, it’s tall. This is actually the giraffe within my kitchen, so make certain you’ve got a spot to place it.
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27/10/17
6:33 AM Tokyo time
Good morning all. I am writing this blog post in the morning, yet again, because I got home too late to write a proper post, and only had time to get my things put away, take a steam shower, and then head to bed. It’s cloudy this morning, and the birds are happily singing. I’m happy it’s cloudy- I think I feel better on cloudy days, and I like the atmosphere more. I notice I tend to feel a little happier on sunny days, but not as physically well. The sun, even minute at 60 degrees, really can take the life out of me and feel exhausted.
Yesterday was a quick day, and I wish I might have slowed down more to enjoy the day more thoroughly. I think fast-paced Japan is starting to catch up to me. I went to Kamakura yesterday, first thing in the morning. This is where the Great Buddha of Kamakura statue is... I will include pictures. I’ve been here only once before, but with Sylvia. This time I was alone, and it was different. It was a very spiritual experience, and being a big fan of those, I was thrilled to go on such a good day. It isn’t very hard to come across spiritual experiences in Japan; you need not look very far and you will see great beauty and peace in most things.
The train ride there was shorter than the ride back! This is because I made a huge mistake, one that couldn’t be avoided, that took me back to Tachikawa (where I change stations) on a local service train. It stops. At every. Station. But anyways...
The train ride there in the morning was very peaceful. I tried my first Japanese vending machine and was very pleasantly surprised. Of course, what I got wasn’t vegan, but, when in Rome. I got what is called a “Japanese Milk Tea” which is not really milk and tea, but more a royal, deliciously brewed cold coffee with a hint of caramel and milk. I took the train to the small sea-town of Kamakura, after an hour and 31 minutes, and I had met two foreigners traveling along the way, which made me happy. They were from Brisbane, Australia, and were here on holiday. They were very kind, and sweet, gentle people. I think they were happy to have a native english speaker on the train because I helped them a few times remember when to get off for their Kamakura stop! I think... even though they and I live in separate parts of the world, it felt like home to hear my native tongue and speak it. However, Japan now feels like home to me more than any other place, so the combination of all that was very solidifying, wholesome. It almost brought me to tears. I felt complete, and sure of myself. It was a good feeling. :)
When we arrived at Kamakura station, we bid our farewells and headed out. I said goodbye rather abruptly, not only because I am very shy, but because you have to be very quick and uniform getting off the trains. I headed out, not needing much of my google maps. I cannot describe the smell and energy of Kamakura. It is a seaside tourist town, but the smell of the town is very coastal indeed, much like San Diego on a sunny day with a lower temperature. It smelled of very, very light brine, maybe more of a tinge, and the warmer air brought a touch of humidity that made the energy feel vibrant and charged.
I prepared myself spiritually for the Great Buddha viewing. To most non-locals and Buddhists, the Great Statue is more of a tourist hot spot, and is not thought of more than that. But to me, this was very significant. I am currently still reading Old Path, White Clouds, but I am also working hard on emptying my mind of anxiety and fleeting thoughts, something I struggle with terribly. Many thoughts crossed my mind! And upon further reflection, how silly those make me feel! I would worry about only having three months to stay here, how horrid I would feel flying home, how anxious I was to do this, that, and the other thing. This was useless to me and I simply let go. It was then when the town became alive to me, rich in alien green, moss, and the faint echoing bells from a Somewhere. I was so happy, because I passed a few schools of children walking my way. This is perhaps my most joyous sight in Japan. Japanese children, when they are in elementary school, wear bright yellow fishing caps, and they hold hands cheerfully and skip down the streets in pure bliss and wonderment. The sight nearly brought me to tears; they inspired in me a lightness and tenderness that washed away my fears and doubts. Children are healing this way- they ignite an old instinct in body and mind that remind us to take care of our souls, and release worry from our mind.
When I arrived at the Great Buddha, I paid my entrance fee, cleansed my hands and soul with holy water, and entered the temple. It is suggested that before you enter you prepare yourself with reverence, so this I did. The sight of the Buddha always brings me great joy, because I think of all the peace and mindfulness that following a path of meditation has brought me. I think of the stories of the Buddha that I am reading now, and how wonderful to be there to see him in person. I cleansed myself with incense three times, then walked to the statue, clapped three times, then bowed with my hands folded palm against palm against my solar plexus. I learned to do this last time I was in Japan. It is the typical way Japanese will honor a shrine, statue, then pray to the god of their choice, and in instance, thank the Buddha. It is customary to then throw Yen into a holy box that echoes when the coins hit the inside, as an offering.
I didn’t spend too much time here, I suppose because I simply didn’t feel the need. I knew I would be back, on a day less busy than Friday, and when it was cooler out. I headed back after purchasing some gifts (very cheap!) and I made my way back to the station. I stopped to look at the seaside market, which is HUGE, by the way! It’s one big street full of vendors and shops. I was almost leaving when I decided to take an alleyway at random. I’m overjoyed that I did, because I found the most precious gift for myself. It was a Japan East Railway Company lunchbox, in the shape and print of the trains. This, beyond anything I’ve seen so far, is the cutest thing in all of the world. It’s small, fits in the palm of your hand, and contains a bento box, which fits in the bottom. It has an open pouch at the top for extra food, which can be closed via velcro.
I finally got home to Tachikawa two and a half hours later. Of course, this is not actual home, but the landmark most familiar to me for which I change platforms and take another train home. This is similar to arriving in Tempe after say, 8 or 9+ hours of driving in another state, and feeling “home”. I headed to a thrift shop where I stopped to check for anything new, then to a mall to get a new sweater. I’m running out of things to wear here. I packed as lightly as possible, and did quite well, but this does not bode well for a three month trip.
After that, I went to Fussa for dinner. I no longer feel as guilty for eating at the same conveyor sushi place over and over again. It’s unbelievably cheap, very clean, very close, and most of all, familiar; the employees are starting to get to know me and that makes me feel more a part of. I tried two new terrifying foods last night. I stepped out of my comfort zone and decided to be brave; a rather rare feat for reclusive me. I sat next to an older couple, and the gentleman beside me had some strange shrimp soup with an ENTIRE shrimp, eyes and all, soaking inside. This is what I ordered first. It was not bad, to my surprise, although I did struggle to eat the giant shrimp (eyes and all). Then I had a strange dessert- a green powder-covered chewy square that you cover with black jelly. THIS was delicious, and I will order it next time I go. The night took a surprising turn for the worst, however, when an old woman with her family started to have a heart attack, or some sort of sickness. It was quite scary- the whole restaurant went quiet as the fire department arrived. This happened just after I received my check. It left me in a sort of funk, but I tried to put it out of my mind.
My feet were aching, and I mean ACHING, by the time I arrived at my train station, so lucky for me my train was delayed by 20 minutes for maintenance. I waited on foot, then finally headed home. I must share the most joyous news... I walked home all by myself without GPS, just like in the morning! That was my first day GPS-free for walking to and from the station, which is great. I made myself memorize it, and I’m very proud and impressed with myself, because the roads are twisty and wind-y, and it is so easy to get lost in that 30 minutes. This truly is an accomplishment, and I feel more at home now than ever.
It’s 7:18 AM now. I will get ready, dressed, then head out to Ikebukuro and Harajuku for some shopping fun. Not wanting to spend a lot of money, but I do need a mini back pack and at LEAST another sweater. So, the day should be fun.
It already is when I remember, at last, I am home.
Amanda
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The problem with dealing with hurricanes, tropical storms, or other storm systems that bring a lot of rain in a little time is that you’re not just dealing with the storms. Though that’s certainly bad enough, sometimes it’s what comes after that does more damage than the actual storm.
What am I talking about? Flooding. I live in a hurricane zone, and we have a saying: hide from the winds, but run from the water. That’s because there usually very few lives lost due to damage from the high winds; most lives are lost to flooding.
On top of that, much of the extensive damage is also caused by flooding. How do you deal with the remains?
The actual storm itself rarely lasts more than a few hours but it can take weeks for a river to crest after the storm is past.
For example, the St. Johns River that runs from Vero Beach in Southeast Florida, up the middle of the state, then empties into the Atlantic Ocean in Jacksonville, is a north-flowing, lazy river. That can make for a bad situation for a couple of reasons.
First, it’s common for hurricanes to hit the southern part of the state then pound the rest of it with heavy downfalls. Since the St. Johns both starts and empties into the Atlantic Ocean, it can get a storm surge from both ends if the storm hits just right.
This Device Easily Turns Air Into Water!
Add in a foot or two of heavy rain to a state that’s not very far from sea level and you’re going to see major flooding in the dry areas, too.
So, you have the initial surge, which can push it off the banks, then you have water draining toward it from all directions inland then you have to factor in the slow rate at which it runs – .3 mph. That means that, assuming we’re lucky enough to have dry weather for a couple of weeks after the hurricane, it can take the river up to a week or so to crest; if it rains it can take even longer than that. And, since it’s lazy, it’s not receding for several days to a week.
So it’s not uncommon for a house near the St. Johns to make it through the hurricane just fine, but flood three or four days later, and stay that way for a few days. And this is a problem that happens all over the world; I just used the St. Johns because it’s one that I have first-hand experience with.
The reason that I took the time to go into this is because it’s important to understand that time plays a huge factor in things. Houses, yards, manufacturing plants, and buildings can be flooded for days, or even a week.
This opens up the door to a tremendous amount of potential toxins to flow, mix, and/or grow:
Septic waste: A septic tank may be able to handle a little bit of flooding, especially if it’s localized, but if the land is submerged for several days, it’s a different story. The leech field and even the tank itself are leaking into the floodwaters.
Fertilizers and pesticides: Again, a quick wash of floodwater may contaminate things a little, but when the water has plenty of time to sit and thoroughly saturate the soil deep down, it draws up toxins that have been soaking into the ground for months or years and spreads it far and wide.
Sewage plants: It’s practically a given that at least one sewage plant is going to suffer spillage during a flood.
Landfills: if it’s in a flood zone, it’s going to share the wonders of decomposing food, feminine hygiene products, diapers, and all the other stuff you’d typically want to make tea with. Home garbage containers also spill into floodwaters, so that’s another source of loveliness.
Dead Fish: between the contamination and the change in temperature and pH levels, there’s almost always a huge amount of dead fish that add to the contamination of the water, and also end up scattered on the banks, leaving the lovely smell – and health hazard – of dead fish strung along the shore, baking in the sun.
Mold: now that there’s a lovely, poisonous soup sitting in a building, or even on the ground, stewing in the heat, mold, and mildew start to grow. This creates another hazard that’s hazardous to you, both if you touch it and if you breathe it.
Storm debris: the winds and rushing water bring down trees and tree limbs, roof shingles, siding, fences, signs, and many other hazards that flow in the water and are left scattered behind once the water recedes, leaving physical hazards as well as chemical ones.
Now that you have an idea of just how damaging floods are, you need to know how to deal with the aftermath.
Be Prepared
Just like food is going to be scarce before the storm, cleaning supplies are going to be in demand following it. Stock up on garbage bags, bleach, rubber gloves, paper towels, rags, and whatever else you may need to clean up your area. Of course, if you prepare for a hurricane throughout the year, this may not be an issue for you.
Don’t Swim in It
After learning about all of the disgusting contents in floodwaters, the last thing you would probably think to do is swim in it. But many people don’t.
Kids of all ages like to get out and wade in the floodwaters, and even after the waters start to go down, it’s hot and people want to go swimming in the river.
Don’t. Just because the water has receded doesn’t mean that the toxins aren’t still there.
Pay attention to local EPA and Fish and Wildlife folks who monitor the level of contamination in the water and don’t go back in until they deem it safe.
Boil Water
Often, if you’re on city water, your city will issue a boil-water alert until they’re sure that the water is safe to drink again. Heed these warnings – they’re given for a reason. Usually, this is just for drinking water, but sometimes they’ll issue one for water used for hygiene as well.
It’s best to stockpile some water, both because your power may be out for awhile and because of the danger of contamination after the storm.
Test Your Soil
Though most of the time, the soil will be OK a few weeks or months after the flood, have it tested. The contaminants stay in it for a long time after the waters recede.
As a matter of fact, I once lost an entire litter of 4-week-old puppies to Parvo two weeks after a flood because the ground had been contaminated via rats’ nests that had been flooded.
As we know, rats also caused a couple of plagues, so this isn’t something to take lightly.
Wear Sturdy Shoes
By now, you’ve probably figured out that the ground is gross even after the waters recede. If you have to wade in the water, wear rubber boots that are higher than the water so that your feet don’t come into contact with water.
However, it’s best not to wade in the water at all because there are all kinds of things – boards with nails, broken glass, etc. – that you can’t see and will cut your shoes right along with your feet. Then all of those lovely contaminants are in your bloodstream.
Wear Gloves and Masks
Once you have to go in and start doing cleanup, you don’t want to touch the contaminated debris with your bare hands and you don’t want to breathe the air in enclosed spaces because of the mold and mildew. It can and will cause serious health issues once you suck it into your lungs. Medical masks are fairly cheap, especially compared to funeral expenses.
Dispose of Debris Appropriately
At the time of this writing, it’s three weeks post-Irma and there are still huge piles of yard debris lining the streets and stacked in parking lots. Follow local ordinances and be patient. If you want to dispose of it yourself rather than wait for city or county waste companies to get to you, there are often designated drop-off areas where you can haul it to.
Typically, these drop zones are for yard debris only. Drywall, fencing, shingles, flooded household goods and furniture, or any other non-bushy stuff isn’t accepted. Check for area dumps to haul building debris to, or call your municipality to find out if they’ve made special arrangements to pick up this type of waste.
Watch your Pets
Dogs and cats just love to roll in gross stuff and eat dead things that they shouldn’t.
There’s also the danger of nails, glass, and disease (see afore-mentioned Parvo) that are dangers to your animals. Horses are at particular risk, too, because of the way that their hooves are made. A nail can easily penetrate the sole, so be sure to police the yard and turnout areas where your pets will be roaming before you let them out.
Floods cause millions of dollars of damage and lives are lost both to the rushing waters and the hazards that accompany the water, both during and after the event.
Use common sense and follow precautions set forth by your local authorities. Post-disaster really isn’t a time to ignore safety directions because if warnings are issued, you can guarantee that there’s some level of risk.
That’s why you need to stay prepared and to know how to keep you and your family safe!
Have you been through floods and have suggestions, tips, or a story you’d like to share? If so, please do so in the comments section below.
This article has been written by Theresa Crouse for Survivopedia.
from Survivopedia Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag
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Sar pass trek from Kasol : Stairway to heaven
“Not all those who wander are lost.” – J.R.R. Tolkien
Trek time – End of May
India is a land of natural wonders and mesmerizing beauty. The Himalayan ranges in the northern part of India are a feast for eyes and a challenge for enthusiastic trekkers. I and my friends were eager to trek over Sar pass(literally means passing over the lake as the lake is frozen normally and we cross over it) in one of the most beautiful stretches in the Himalayas.I am glad this trip happened. We booked our trek with YHAI (the cheap and best organizers) around January. Me, Karthik, Rishab, Saurabh and Preetham took flight from Goa to Delhi, whereas Arun and Sumith took flight from Bangalore to Delhi. From there we took HRTC Volvo to Bhunter (better bus, compared to other private Volvo bus).Our base camp was at Kasol, we can take a local bus from Bhunter which is 30 km from Kasol, due to curvy roads it takes around 2 hours to reach. Its fascinating to see all the people from different parts of India with different age group and profession coming to Kasol to trek over Sar pass. Kasol has many Israelians visiting over the year during different season to get the feels of Himalayas and of course weed. The trek was eye opening journey for me as I reflected upon myself throughout the trek, also the Trek is a heaven for photographers and nature lovers due to bewitching landscape and Himalayan flora and fauna.
View from base camp
Base camp
Our base camp was great it was located near the river and we had the view of the snowy mountain that we had to climb. But we wanted to start trek as soon as possible. They had us do exercise, rock climbing, rapling and acclimatization walk of about 4km to see our fitness level, well these things were not easy at all as I had not done any physical activity for many days, so in other words, these exercises actually helped us. The night was filled with entertainment activities (Jack and Jill ... cough) for team bonding and just get us out the tents during the freezing nights of Kasol. There were occasional rains now and then but our batch was luckiest as we missed the rain narrowly all the time.It would only rain during lunch time or after we reached other camp sites. At evening we would go to Kasol market and hang out at our tea spot and get some free wifi and go further and eat some tasty momo's ( these momo's are the best ), some of them did last minute shopping for the trek and were all set for the trek.
The trek itself is challenging as we had issues with weather now and then, even the local people could not predict what the weather will be like. Also, we can easily catch fever or cold and have stomach upset all the time, there are chances to get altitude sickness, but it's all part of the trek.Our batch had 2 doctors and they would give Tablets if there is any need, but our batch was mostly very healthy and there were no major health issues with anyone. There were also frequent trekkers and experienced trekkers who had done Sar pass several times.
YHAI did a good job at providing tents, tasty food, awesome guides for the trek, toilet facility in the middle of nowhere, water facility, sleeping bag, blankets, rucksack etc.The trek was painstakingly well planned by our organizers. Not to forget all the camp leaders where from Rajasthan (:p) and were very strict in some cases, they sacrifice thier time to do volunteer job here at the camp.
Base camp at Kasol
At acclimatization walk
There are several things to consider before trek like your health. Also, you need to be prepared for the trek. Buy thermals, jackets, lunchbox, mug, good trekking shoes (preferably shows from Decathalon ), raincoat or ponchos. All these things are available in Kasol but they might be costly in some cases so you can purchase these things beforehand. The difficult part was to leave behind some stuff and pack up for the trek (bag must not be more than 6kg + lunch pack + water bottles).
There are many things to say but I will keep it short, yet descriptive about the trek details. Each day follows about trek from one camp to another camp site, while we trek over mountains ,valley, forest, snow and water streams. The experience was overwhelming. The guides where localites who knew the tracks properly and were super human trekkers considering they do this for their living.
Stream in Kasol
Day 1: Kasol to Grahan
Feet: 6500ft to 7700ft
Kms: 9 km
Time taken: 7 hours
Difficulty: Easy to Medium
Grahan camp
This was our first day of trek and was told the trek would be relatively easy, but we were wrong , trekking is always challenging we had to climb hills to move forward so it takes away all the energy , we reached lunch point around 1 pm ate some momo's and took rest and started trek again, the terrain is good we saw variety of forest trees and streams , the weather was pleasant enough for Trek and thank god there was no rain, as we reached Grahan we found local children(pahadis) asking for chocolates (they say, "tata! Toffee") , if we gave chocolates to one kid they he/she would run away without sharing it with other kids , there was a kid called Mohit he would forget that he had come to our tent before and would go on to ask for chocolates again!(LOL). The campsite was near a field with hills surrounding it.After we reached camp all of them were tired and dozing off, as this was the last place with human inhabitation I wanted to see the village. So me along with Karthik and Rahul(Tarzan) went to village for some adventure ,luckily we found our guide in the village ,he was happy enough to show us his village , it had narrow paths with a different kind of house , there was school(they had till 8th standard) , school playground where children were playing volleyball , other small kids running around , apple trees , sacred temple (no one other than their village people can enter the temple) and giant 250 year old tree . The village was lively until it started raining, we ran across the streets to our camp site. The scenery after the rainfall was alluring .Night is usually cold , we go inside our sleeping bags which is awesome experience in itself as we don't feel any cold. Usually, in camps, old people would be playing cards or play anthyakshari, but we had our power banks and smartphones to play mini militia to spend our time. Atul(Royal boom) had become a pro at the end of trek, speaking of which savatha bhabi(Sumith) or swagger swami (Preetham ) would be on top of the point table always.Not to forget Jitu's non stop hindi speaking skills and Iyer playing music non stop.
Children playing at Grahan
In deep discussion
Puppy at Grahan
Day 2 : GRAHAN TO PADRI
Feet: 7700ft to 9300ft
Kms: 9 km
Time taken: 5 hours
Difficulty: Easy
Herd of goats en-route Padri
The easiest track of the trek no steep hills or downhill ,just a steady track, still it was not a bummer as I had lots of fun as the whole trek was in the forest. We reached the next camp very early and had lots of time to rest. There are Maggi and tea points throughout the treks, yes they are costly but 70 rs for maggi in Sar pass is very reasonable, the price increases as we go to higher altitude as the weather is totally messed up as we climb up.
Padri camp site
Padri camp
On of the best camp site, it was situated in a valley, so there was a large open field where you can see horse grazing and galloping around and in front of the camp there is Snow capped mountain which we had to eventually climb, the Himalayan range looked majestic and arresting at the same time.The phantom-white mountain reared into the sky. I had quality time outside the camp taking pictures and roaming around in the cold as it just rained for about an hour, the field was very slippery so its advised to wear shoes all the time outside.The toilets are usually outside in the forests, but we where free to do our business in the open woods(the best?).
Horse grazing in the open field
Day 3 : PADRI TO MIN THATCH
Feet: 9300ft to 11200ft
Kms: 11.5 kms
Time taken: About 9 hours
Difficulty: Difficult
One of the tiring track of the trek was extremely steep and had some dangerous routes to cross, I was feeling hungry as we left the camp early but reaching lunch point was very difficult , lunch point was at the top of the hill , there were pahadi women selling buttermilk which was delicious and cheaper than those Maggi . There was constant fear of rain and we needed to open our raincoat/ponchos which is a big headache. But as for our convenience, there was only little drizzles here and there.Usually, these tracks have some snow here and there but we didn't get the chance to encounter any snow. Finally, after the trek, we reached our camp. As there was lots of rain, this was a slushy camp. The walkway was dirty and slippery but the view from behind our tent was just gorgeous. After a hot cup of tea followed by soup, I was in the mood to enjoy the beauty of Min Thatch. I had some stomach upset here (and lasted the rest of the trek :( ) because I had eaten something wrong, the camp was never boring we had our Rajasthani friends doing all the entertainment in the form of jokes and mockery between Ronak and Atul.Rahul(Tarzan) would come first to camp site and reserve us the best tents. At night time it was cold still we went outside for stargazing, man was it beautiful!
View from Min Thatch camp site
Day 4 :MIN THATCH TO NAGARU
Feet: 11200ft to 12500ft
Kms: 9.5 kms
Time taken: 7 to 8 hours
Difficulty: Medium
Steep climb to Nagaru
The trek is very steep but we had to trek in a single line and put slow trekkers in the front , so there was no fatigue ,there was only slow climbing, the path looked dangerous ,one slip could mean death as there were many loose stones lying on the path, so trek shoes is a must, we also had wooden stick for balance, we could see that we were constantly climbing up towards the peak ,yet it was far way . The lunch point here was most breathtaking as it was located just near a steep slope. We had food and waited for the rain to go away (we were lucky again as we didn't get rain while trekking). The serrated phantom-white mountains loomed in the distance as we made our way towards them . After we reached the camp, the sun was out. The camp leader said that we were lucky to have the sun as other batches didn't get this chance. Also, we had good water access as the snow was melting fast. And hey we get mobile network here!!! .We could see the mountain that we had to climb tomorrow in order to reach sar pass, it was filled with snow, we where very excited to climb it. We slept early as we had to wake up at 2 am for the trek else the snow starts melting and it will be difficult to trek.
Nagaru lunchpoint
Nagaru camp at good sunlight
Day 5 : NAGARU TO SAR PASS TO BISKERI
Date: May 8 2014
Feet: 12500ft to 13800ft to 11000ft
Kms: 14 kms
Time taken: 10 hours
Difficulty: Medium
Heaven called Sar Pass
This is the D-day we will reach sar on this day, we left our camps at 4 am it was very cold, we had to trek on the snow, we had a steep but slow climb to sar pass. One thing to remember here is to follow everything the guides tell you. Don’t try to break any rules as it can be fatal. it was 6:30 when we reached sar pass, it was literally heaven on earth the place was so beautiful it can't be explained in words , there was a crimson hue over the horizon as the sun shined with pride over the mighty Himalayas , we had so much fun on the snow, as it was flat land , we had war of snowballs and had few group pics .The heaven-touching apex of the mountain was drenched in brilliant light. Spikes of thin light impaled the snow in a bristling, moving line. There was one guide who bought flute here and started playing sweet melodies in it. The atmosphere was so pleasant. Even though we wanted to stay on that frozen lake we had to move forward to next camp, we had to trek through the snow, again one slip in snow we will slide down and need to climb up, the guides have ice axe to make way the path, even I slipped once , but because of the wooden stick I was saved big time!!. Sunglasses is a must as the sunlight directly reflects from the snow to our eyes. Finally our guides left us behind from the sliding point, we had to slide for about 300 m downwards, this was the most fun part of the trek, sliding down on snow is awesome, my slide was good and had a jump while hit the speed breaker and also couldnt stop and hit ajja (Preetham ) from behind , we slid together for another 100 m(LOL) .
We reached lunch point and had some Maggi. The lunch point was an open field, it was picturesque and winsome. After that we had to climb down, my knees and toes were hurting after climbing down. Basekri camp was beautiful, buffaloes and horses grazing around and the weather was rather pleasant other than some occasional showers.
Lunch point after Sar Pass
Day 6 : Beskeri to Barshini to Kasol
From Beskeri we wanted to skip Bhandak thack(mini Switzerland) as many of them were ill and were tired as fuck. So we planned to go to Kasol directly the next day. We took short cut to barsheni , there was only climbing down from here on , it was steep climb down so it was difficult , few of the fast trekkers reached the bus stand very early , I took my time and was taking it easy enjoying the nature and resting here and there finally we reached about 6,600 ft from 11000ft . We took a cab to our base camp, which is around 15 km.You can also catch bus to Kasol from barshini.
We were feeling sticky as we had not taken shower for days. I took shower in Delhi the next day, but Delhi was 45 degree, very hot and with lots of pollution. It was huge contrast from the beautiful sar pass trek. It was major shocker and upset to me. I just wanted to leave Delhi and go to my home.
Conclusion
At the end YHAI had planned the trek very well they served good food and water, the tents were placed at good spots. They had good cooperation from the local people, otherwise, trek would have been near to impossible, transportation of foods to those camp sites is very difficult. The photos where taken from Karthik's SLR and Arun's Oneplus 3. The dogs in this region are beautiful with furs.Also, the trek varies from person to person, it is never the same trek. When I referred to one blog the had snow from Min Thatch itself, but we encountered snow only at Nagaru camp. So the trek was a great experience for me, I just loved it and I am eagerly waiting to visit Kasol maybe in different season.
THANK YOU!
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