#also if you want me to scan a specific characters page from the club book

[elle-p]

Here is a link to a google drive of the uncompressed scans.

[riceball1759]

Reading Tips from your Hyper Librarian

"So many books, so little time", right? If anyone understands this, it's us bibliophiles and librarians (and publishers) -especially someone like me! My interests are super varied and many times, I'll start reading a few chapters in a book that REALLY REALLY interests me...but then, I have that ADHD SHINY moment and the poor thing is forgotten. Seriously, this is a constant struggle. Being a librarian makes this even more important that I know what I'm recommending. And I do! I just can't get the focus to actually read them>< I'm part of a committee that is assigned reading every year for 3 months (give or take) and -you guessed it- I get that done. Why? It's got a deadline and I churn through them like nobody's business. It also helps that I didn't choose them and they aren't always what I normally like to read. It gives me an edge when helping certain patrons look for something I normally don't read. Not that I don't have an idea already -it's just more cemented than usual since I actually read that particular book. Though I kinda gave you one of my tips in this blurb, I'll rehash later!

A little more on my SHINY moments and then we'll get to my tips! Like I said before, SHINY really takes a toll sometimes on my goals, but it also helps. How? Situation: I hear all this buzz about this upcoming book (debut author/fresh voice/intriguing plotline/etc.). I either miraculously get an ARC or I'm waiting with bated breath, for the dang thing to get shipped to my library so that I can "steal" it for the weekend before it gets catalogued (I tell everyone I'm borrowing it, so don't judge me!). If all goes according to plan, I DEVOUR it within a day and come back exclaiming all the virtues of reading said book. I might even write a glowing review (if I had the capacity at the time). This has happened with a few books in the past years: Stay Gold, Wicked Fox & Vicious Spirits, Ember in the Ashes, Invisible Differences, and a few others, but I can't remember right now. Point: it's super hard for me to get the reading I want done, actually done.

AND NOW, for the star of our show: The Hyper Librarian's Reading Tips!

Please remember, these are things I remind myself of when I'm having a hard time getting through my TBR (the library-books-out-that-are-due TBR). Some lead into or are extensions of others, but being specific is necessary for me. You can adapt them to your needs or or just copy/paste them into your life :)

1) It's ok to DNF. So you gave this book the 'old college try' and just can't do it -it's becoming torturous and you're at risk of going into the dreaded slump... Just stop already and save yourself more grief. Another reason is that you're just not in the mood to finish, so don't. Why torture yourself (again -I seem to like using this word, but it's so accurate at times!) by seeing a book lying close by that you wish was anywhere but? Some of us (incl. moi) have a shelf on Goodreads just for those pesky things. Let's cut the drama and move on! I find it therapeutic as well as final.

2) You are your own censorship committee. We all have that verbal content line where ~once toed/crossed~ our tolerance, belief, comfort level, etc., is compromised to the point where there's no enjoyment because of that one or more 'tidbits' giving you grief. Sometimes, I'll scan several reviews before starting because I want to make sure I don't get any 'surprises'. Most times, I get to that proverbial part that has me slamming the book closed, never to be opened again (dramatic, yes, but sometimes very true!). {{Point}}: you are the only person keeping you from reading something you don't like!

3) Be picky! You are as unique as your fingerprint. Why wouldn't your reading habits follow? If you get a rec that is absolutely not your thing, say no (thank you). It's not fair to you if you're just going to trudge through it anyway for the sake of being polite to friends/family/librarians/coworkers/etc (publishers, I'm sorry). If you like vampires, werewolves, and all things paranormal (like me) don't despair of the current books coming out -look back to the '90s and '00s! Reading is one of the most personal things we experience in our lives. {{Please, for the sake of your sanity}}: read reviews, look for trigger warnings (if that applies to you), verify that historically under-represented voices are portrayed correctly (misinformation is our greatest threat). For example: I won't buy a book about LGBT+ characters without verifying the plot as authentic (i.e. all fluff and no real problems vs real problems with a happy ending). I need to know that the book about that Transgender girl is written by someone who is either also Transgender or very well-informed.

4) Own your reading preferences. Just own it. I read somewhere in a journal interview that the concept of "guilty pleasure" shouldn't exist. So you like SJM's ACOTAR and are all about that fan community life, but are afraid to talk about it even though it's basically a mainstream subculture now? {{Point}}: Stop feeling guilty for what makes you happy! If people judge, that's their problem. I read romance for stress relief and because I just happen to like happy endings. Seriously, people need to stop shaming romance readers and self-shame is a huge part! Don't shame yourself, "SHUN THE NON-BELIEVERS"! (Charlie the Unicorn, RIP in Youtube history)

5) It's ok to read more than one book at a time. If you're anything like me (the Attention Deficit part), you probably have up to 5 books going at the same time: that paperback at home, the ebook on your phone, audiobook in the car, hardcover in your office, etc. (I know that's not 5 -I ran out of ideas!). Point: it's only natural you're in the mood for something different at certain periods of the day, week, or whatever. They'll get finished eventually. Just spare a thought for the 1 or 2 that are a little extra "dusty" cuz that might mean you need to DNF...just a thought.

6) Book clubs are your friend! They can be your enemy, too; but here's what you do: choose one that reads almost everything you want to in a specific genre. I'm not talking the next bestseller (unless that's you). I'm talking genre-specific and something you researched before joining. Online or in-person, this is has the potential for changing your reading habits for the better because you'll actually want to interact and read the books! I decided to join a book club so I could finally talk about a niche genre that is one of my favorites: Christian fiction. No one around me reads this (anymore) and I have no one to talk to (regularly) and trade recs with, so I joined a Facebook group and it's really nice to chat about all these great books and authors I've recently read with others who do the same:)

7) Book journaling. Yes, you may have heard of these things. There are so many ways to journal about your reading: bullet journals, the blank ones where you can let loose your creativity, the ones like from Moleskin where you just fill in the pre-determined spaces (aka: reading log), lined journals for writing your heart out, themed reading planners and TBR journals... Just look it up, the interwebs has you covered. The key is to use them as a tool for expanding and enriching your enjoyment or education (nonfic). I don't journal for everything, but I do like to do it for the ones I know I'm going to review later or for general reflections as I read. I started doing it by chapters, but that doesn't cut it when something jumps out at me from a random page and I NEED to write about it immediately. So, I make note of the page # and we good! I'm very personal in my writing (if you can't tell) and it can turn into tangents, but that's how I roll. I don't do that artsy stuff because that takes away from the reason I'm doing this in the first place. I write about anything regarding my reading -incl my reading slumps. I love it.

Wishing you Happy Reading! Thank you for reading:)

[nsheetee]

The Intricate Art of Being Enemies

Pairing: Rich Kid!Chenle x Rich Girl!Reader Genre: College AU, Rich Kid AU, Enemies to Lovers AU || Fluff, Angst Length: 14k Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, a kissing scene Summary: 

Step 1: The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him your friend Step 2: Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake Step 3: When you are confronted with an opponent, conquer him with love

Key: Sections in italics indicate the scene happened in the past

»»————-✧༺♥༻♛༺♥༻✧————-««

A four-leafed clover, a rare variation of the common three-leafed clover, is said to bring luck into the life of whoever finds it. To you, a four-leafed clover brought Chenle.

You found the clover in a sandpit during recess in kindergarten; maybe it got stuck on the bottom of someone's shoe or maybe the wind blew it this far from its home, but you didn’t care. It was pretty and your favorite color and you wanted it, but you reached for it at the same time a little boy with the chubbiest cheeks you’ve ever seen did. Chenle quickly snatched the clover out of the sand and clutched it to his chest. When he looked back at you, seeing tears well up in your eyes from the sudden fright, he sighed. His parents always told him to be nice to little girls, and he didn’t know much but he did know his parents are smart people. So he crawled over, sand sticking uncomfortably to his shins, and held out the clover to you.

“Here.” The smile that lit up your face made Chenle blush and quickly scurry away, but you called out to him.

“Wait! What’s your name?”

“I’m Chenle, you can call me Lele.”

“Thank you, Lele.”

“No problem, Clover.” And with that, he ran towards the swings and joined the rest of his friends with the reddest face, yours mirroring the same shade from the unexpected nickname.

Unfortunately, that would be the last innocent interaction between you and Chenle for a long, long time.

Your teacher took extra care so that you didn’t make any contact with Chenle after the day in the sandpit. As a small child, just being introduced to the world outside of your family, you couldn’t understand why your parents didn’t want you hanging around Chenle. He was in your class, sat at your work table, and was just a little dorky.

Your mother gathers you in her arms and sits you down on her lap, picking up a heavy brush from the table and begins brushing your hair in soothing strokes as she explains.

“Chenle is part of the Zhong family. Do you know who they are?” She asks you.

“No, Mommy.”

“The Zhong family runs a make-up company, just like we do. But they are very, very bad.” Your mother’s tone changes, but her steady hands keep brushing your soft hair. “They do a lot of bad things, and when you grow up you will learn more, do you understand?” No, you didn’t really understand, but her tightening grip on your hair makes you nod your head obediently.

“I’m glad. Remember: Don’t talk to Chenle. He and his family are the bad guys. We are the good guys.”

Your mother held true to her word, as you grew up you learned all about the Zhongcology Cosmetic Company. The company was run by the Zhong family, more specifically Liwei Zhong- Chenle’s father. Being the rivals of your family’s cosmetic company, Nuvane, you learned about their sick and twisted method of testing their products on animals. Although these were speculations, the amount of rumors that built up over time along with the consistency in stories made it seem as if it was fact. Unlike your parents, you waited to believe these rumors until hard facts were released that completely proved these stories.

Nuvane prided itself in complete animal-free testing of make-up products; from the beginning to the end of production, not one animal is harmed. Your parents taught you the importance of respecting animals and nature. You picked up the value instinctively, making them proud. Before you really knew how to hate, you started hating Zhongcology; just the thought of them testing their products on animals made you nauseous. Once you were old enough, you decided to wear your families make-up products with pride, knowing that they were safely made.

Chenle spent his childhood learning the same thing about your family. He was taught that Nuvane was filled with a bunch of sneaky, conniving tree-huggers who spewed lies about his family's company because of jealousy and hate for what was true: Zhongcology didn’t test on animals and made products that were superior to Nuvane.

Once you learned and understood the hatred between the two business, you still couldn’t understand the feud between the two families. You wouldn't believe that business practices could have your parents spouting venom about the Zhongs, and even pre-teenager you could understand there was something more that the families hated about each other. When you tried to ask your parents about it, you were met with a wave of a hand and the old, overused story of the Zhong’s business practices. It confused you, Chenle too, but after several years, you both learned to stop asking.

Regardless of the disputes, you and Chenle still went to the same school. From elementary to high school, and now the same private college, Carlston University, where your parents and grandparents once attended. The competition naturally continued here, through you and Chenle. You had so many rivalries that it was hard to keep track; everything from academics (who got the highest score on standardized tests), to how many titles of club president you could possess in the short four years of high school (you were the president of the Ecology Club, Chenle was one of the lead singers in Choir), even to how many hours of community service each could rack up (currently, it was you).

Maintaining this imagine of competitiveness was important for both of you; not only did it fuel your family’s image, but also yours as the next heirs of the two biggest make-up companies in the world. Before you could take the reins of the company, this seemed to be the only way to make your family proud; and if hating each other was the way to go, then you thrived in it.

You practically searched for things to hate in each other. Like the meticulous nature of Chenle, a micromanager, which is not a very good quality in a business man. Yet, people praise him for it left and right. He didn’t really fancy you that much either: you jumped to conclusions and were too willing to dive into what could possibly be a socially dangerous situation.

As the saying goes, keep your friends close but your enemies closer. You never would have guessed how close in character and mindset you and Chenle actually are.

During your lunch break, you spend your time in the library. Some days you studied, some days you mindlessly ate your lunch, some days you read; it was quiet and no one bothered you, a perfect break from all of your responsibilities. Today, you decide to venture into the book-keeping part of the library, where all the historical books about the school are located. Your eye catches the row of yearbooks dating back to the 50’s and you immediately search for the one from 1982, the year your parents would have been freshman at this University. You flip through the old pages, aimlessly looking through the black and white photos to find one of your parents, but instead you stumble onto something else.

You stare at the old, grainy photograph as if you can’t believe it exists. A woman, one who you have seen several times in your own family photo albums, stares back with a secret smile on her face and the man next to her wears the same expression, both of their eyes taunting you with something you don’t know yet. A shudder runs down your back as you read the description underneath the picture.

“1982, Wilson and Zhong prepping for their upcoming debate.” You recognized Wilson as your mother’s maiden name. But Zhong… There is one Zhong family that you’re very aware of and that family is a forbidden topic in your household. Something in your head tells you to shut the yearbook and put it away; if you act like you didn’t see it maybe you’ll forget about the man named Zhong that stands so close to the woman who you know you have a connection with, but don’t know how. Instead, you turn your head from side to side to scan the vicinity, and quickly rip out the page. Shoving the picture into the deepest depths of your backpack, you continue with your day and hope that your curiosity will be repressed.

Chenle learned to pick locks when he was 12; his nanny at the time taught him and Chenle has used this skill more times than he would like to admit. Like now, as he shoves a bobby pin into his father’s desk drawer lock. Chenle does this with the quietness of a mouse and the swiftness of a crook, excitement coursing through him but he swears he isn’t doing anything bad- He just wants the book his father keeps saying he will give him. He never meant to run into the picture and he only slightly wished he never did. Chenle holds the picture up to a light to see the caption better, eyes widening at the caption: “1982, Wilson and Zhong prepping for their upcoming debate.”

Chenle scans the room, as if waiting for someone to come in and catch him in the act. He sets the photo down and walks towards his father’s bookshelves, scanning the photographs that are placed at random on the shelves. One of the photographs closer to the bottom contains a picture of the man from the photograph Chenle just found, standing next to the younger version of his father. Chenle knows he’s seen this face before and his curiosity becomes too great to ignore. Chenle runs back to the desk and takes out his phone, snaps a shot of the old photo, quickly putting things back to where he found them and leaving the room as quietly as he came in. The photo burns a hole in Chenle’s phone as he sits at the dinner table later that night, thinking of the eyes of the man who he knew was somehow important to him.

Step 1: The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him your friend

Despite the differences that you Chenle have been grown into thinking you have, you both think quite similarly. So when you make your way to the classroom that the photograph had been taken in so many years ago, it shouldn’t have been surprising to see Chenle there, too. You walk through the door and immediately scoff, ready to walk back out. Chenle turns around at the sound and rolls his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asks harshly.

“What are you doing here?”

“I asked first.”

“Aren’t we a little too old to be playing this game?” Your patience wears thin every moment he opens his lips and you consider walking out once more.

“Then just answer the question.” You were about to throw some witty comment back at him until you see the familiar, grainy picture on his phone. You grip your own copy of the photo in your perfectly manicured hand and Chenle notices the motion. His breathing hitches as you try to hide the all-to-familiar photo behind your skirt and he steps forward, eyes on your hand.

“What’s that?” Chenle takes another step forward when you don’t answer, the back of your thighs hit a desk and the sudden feeling makes you sit down on the table. The photo drops to the tile floor and Chenle scoops it up. He could tell it was the same picture from ten feet away, but now that he holds a physical copy of it in his hands, his mind swirls with ideas.

“Let me guess… you know the woman in the photo?”

“I’m guessing you know the man, then?” You ask back and Chenle lets out a pained sigh.

“You can never just answer a question the normal way, can you?” It’s your turn to let out a sigh and you snatch the photo out of Chenle’s hand.

“I don’t know the woman… but she’s in a lot of my family's pictures from a long time ago. In my family, we don’t take pictures with people who have the last name Zhong.” You lean forward during the last line and your tongue practically drips with distaste at the last word. Chenle lets you push him away, but his next comment makes you stop before you leave the room.

“That man in the photo- I don’t know who he is either, but I know he’s somehow involved with my father. If you want to know what happened to the woman, I don’t think it’s something you can figure out alone.” As much as the thought triggers your gag reflex, you have to admit that Chenle is right. If that man is connected to the Zhong’s, Chenle is the best way to get the inside scoop. Your head is telling you no, but your gut is telling you to take the risk.

As if the universe could sense you needed a push, the door suddenly opens to reveal Dr. Krabbenhoft, the Forensics teacher. He’s an old and stout man who smells a bit like mothballs and earl grey tea, but he’s one of the oldest teachers in the University and most likely was teaching speech and debate back in 1982.

“Sir… My apologies for the intrusion. I was hoping to ask you a few questions.” Your eyes sway over to Chenle and you make quick eye contact- an even quicker decision made in your mind. “I mean…. We were hoping to ask some questions.” Chenle then steps forward and Dr. Krabbenhoft looks both of you up and down, scrunches his nose to push his glasses into place, waving at both of you to follow him as he walks further into the classroom.

“I don’t remember either of you in any of my classes.” He lays his briefcase down on desk.

“We’re freshman, we can’t take any of your graduate courses, sir.” Chenle chimes in, his tone different from the bitter one he used to talk to you only a few moments ago.

“Then what questions could you have for me.” As if on cue, Dr. Krabbenhoft notices the picture in your hand. You smooth it out before handing it over; the old man gently grips the paper at the edges and moves it in front of his sight until he sees the grainy image.

“We were wondering if you knew who those people are?” Dr. Krabbenhoft sends both of you a glance over the top of the photograph.

“I know I may look like an ancient relic, but I wasn’t working at this school in 1982. The Forensics teacher at the time was Dr. Jones. She can tell you about these kids.” He hands back the picture and starts sorting through his papers, completely unbothered.

“Where could we find Dr. Jones?” Chenle asks hesitantly.

“The last I heard she was in a nursing home in Parksville.” You and Chenle share another look. This woman could be dead by now, and that could be a major dead end to what is only the beginning of this mystery. You thank Dr. Krabbenhoft on your way out and silently walk down the empty halls.

“So… we’re a “we” now, huh?” Chenle jokes from beside you, knocking you out of your thoughts and making you send him a pursed look with a raised eyebrow.

“We are only working together to figure out who these people are, that’s it.” You concisely define your new relationship. A chill runs down Chenle’s spine and he fixes the silk tie on his uniform to keep his reaction from showing.

“We need to head over to Parksville. There’s only one nursing home there and if Dr. Jones is still alive, we need to ask her some questions.”

“Okay… So, let’s go tomorrow? After classes?” You suggest.

“Meet me in the baseball field parking lot. We can take my car.”

“You really want to meet all the way by the baseball fields?” You stop and turn towards each other.

“Don’t you think it would be a little suspicious if people saw you getting into my car after classes one day? Especially the type of people that attend this University… our parents will hear about it in no time.” Ah, your parents. Of course, wandering around with someone who is your lifelong enemy and taking a trip with him would probably not stand so well with either of your parents. You realize you hate how Chenle keeps making valid points, or maybe you just hate how you can only agree with all of the others who praise him: he really does think about all the details.

“Fine.” Chenle starts to walk again until you speak again. “Just so you know, this is only until we figure out who these people are.”

“What you’re trying to say is… you don’t trust me?” Chenle asks.

“What I’m trying to say is… There isn’t a “we” and there never will be. Let’s make sure we can go back to the way things are after we figure this out. Got it, Lele?”

“Fine, whatever you’d like, Clover.”

The next day, after you changed out of your uniform and Chenle picked you up at the baseball field parking lot, you make your drive to Parksville. The car is quiet, only the radio silently playing in the background and the sound of wind hitting Chenle’s Mercedes-Benz as he drives down the highway. You pull down the sun visor and open the mirror, retouching your make-up; Chenle rolls his eyes when he sees the familiar blue label of “Nuvane” on all of your products from the corner of his eye. The eye roll did not go unnoticed by you, and you spend the entire ride in stubborn silence.

The “Sunny Hillside Retirement Home,” despite the chirpy receptionist and the cheerful name, looks dull: old, slow-tempo jazz music plays, the wallpaper is an incredibly dull yellow color, and several buff men are wearing the same dull yellow polo with “Sunny Hillside Retirement Home Security” printed boldly on the back.

“Hello! Welcome to the Sunny Hillside Retirement Home! How can I help you?”

“Hello, we are looking for Dr. Jones?” Chenle asks. The receptionist tilts her head but her smile stays strangely stable.

“Dr. Maria Jones? Of course, can I ask what your relationship is?” The receptionist starts fiddling around on her desk. You and Chenle take the time to share a look; unfortunately, you both didn’t think this far. If you answer with the truth, they’ll never let you see Dr. Jones, but what lie could you come up with in one shared glance? Thankfully, the receptionist’s assumption answers for you.

“Oh, I’m guessing you’re her grandchild? And you’re the spouse, right?” You didn’t think about the implications of saying you’re married to Chenle, or how stupid the receptionist must be to think that two college freshman are married.

“Yes, we are.”

“Yes, we are.”

Chenle naturally wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side, and you both give a fake, warm smile, pleasing the receptionist. You resist the urge to show surprise on your face as the receptionist hands over your pre-made name tags. Chenle was given the one with “Sam” on it and you got the one with “Amanda” on it. Chenle guides you away from the receptionist’s desk with a hand on your lower back and leans over to whisper in your ear.

“We must be the luckiest people ever because that was way too easy.” You push his arm away, giving it a look of disgust as you walk further into the building.

“Don’t be so lax, someone is supposed to be here instead of us. The receptionist will figure it out soon.”

You and Chenle walk into a living room-looking area; it smelled of medicine and dust, several people were sitting around and watching the television, some were playing board games, and some were looking out the window. You tap Chenle’s arm as you spot Dr. Jones, a perfect older version of her picture from one of the older yearbooks. She looks old in every sense of the word. Her skin sagging and her hair whitening, she looks fragile enough to fall apart if the wind from the open window blew too hard. Walking up to her seat by the window, you gently clear your throat to get her attention.

“Hello, Doctor. I’m Y/N, and this is Chenle. We were hoping we could ask you some questions about some students you once had?” She woman stares at both of you, looking down at your name tags, and opens her wrinkly mouth.

“You kids have nothing better to do than to bother old ladies?” Her boisterous voice blew you and Chenle out of the water and you both physically take a step back, shocked at how deep her face could frown. “Questions? What questions could you want to ask? Are you from the NSA? They really train ‘em young, don’t they?” She continues. You and Chenle look around at the rest of the people in the room, panicking at all the attention that now seems to be thrown your way.

“Whatever it is, it’s not worth my-”

“It’s about these people.” Chenle suddenly pulls out your crumpled piece of paper, catching Dr. Jones attention. Her hand reaches forward and snatches the paper, squinting at the grainy photograph.

“What about them?” She asks.

“Who are they?”

“They were some of the best debaters I have ever taught. I am still proud of what they achieved despite the sins they committed.” She nonchalantly hands the paper back as your and Chenle’s eyes widen at the word “sins.”

“I’m sorry, sins? What sins did they commit.” You ask but before Dr. Jones could answer, your attention is drawn to the slamming doors at the front of the room. The receptionist stands with two security guards at her side, surveying the room until their eyes land on you.

“There, those two.” The receptionist doesn’t seem to be as preppy as she was before, and could even be more angry than the woman sitting in the chair next to you. You freeze as the two security guards march towards you, but Chenle grabs your hand tightly in his own and pulls you through the door at the other end of the room. You hear the stomping of feet from behind you as Chenle rushes you down hallway after hallway in what seems like a labyrinth more than a retirement home.

“Where are we going?” You tug on his hand in an attempt to slow down.

“I’ll tell you when I know.” Chenle stops at a cross in the hallway, looking down all ways before pulling you out of the doors with the big red “EXIT” sign over them. The alarm system screams from behind you and the harsh wind whips at your faces as you run through the parking lot to the car, kicking up the few yellow and orange leaves that have already fallen to the dirty concrete. You and Chenle don’t get a chance to breathe until you're in the car, on the highway heading back home.

“God, that place was a prison.” Chenle heaves and you silently agree, still out of breath.

“I never would have thought that an old lady could have so much pent-up anger.” You sigh and it’s Chenle’s turn to agree with you. Slowly, giggles arise as Chenle thinks about the insane situation you both were in. Before you know what’s going on, you and Chenle are pulled over to the side of the road with unstoppable laughter filling the car.

“Oh, my god.” Chenle gasps and continues to cackle. You try to not shove your fingers in your ears from the loud sounds coming from his mouth.

“What is that?” You ask as he calms down.

“What?”

“That cackling sound?”

“That was laughter… Oh, sorry. You wouldn’t know what that is, right?” You roll your eyes but before you can say anything else, Chenle speaks up again. This time, he sounds a bit insecure. “Is it… annoying?”

“What? No, it’s just different. Good- different.” Chenle turns away to hide his smile at your answer. You've never heard him laugh like that before, not even with his friends at University. You feel a little flutter in your heart from the thought that he let you hear something so raw and pure like his actual laugh. The adrenaline still in your system, you realize this is the first truly teenager-ish and rebellious thing you’ve done, and you did it with Chenle, of all people.

“Lele… Do you think these people actually committed sins? Is that why we don’t know who they are?” The mood in the car shifts with your sudden questions.

“Dr. Jones seems a bit… exaggerated. I think we should take her words with a grain of sand.” Chenle reasons.

“But then… why don’t our families talk about these people if they didn’t do something bad.” You and Chenle think it over; the visit seems to have raised more questions than answers.

“Let’s go home.” Chenle sternly says and starts the car again. The ride back to school is more quiet than the ride to Parksville.

Although it seems like you and Chenle hit a dead end with the visit to Dr. Jones, you refuse to believe the story ends there. After some more research in the yearbook, you find names of other people on the Forensics team from 1982. You’re not surprised to find that most of them moved to other cities and that some of them have already passed away. What you were surprised to find was that one member from the Forensics team was your own neighbor, Paul Reizter. He lives a few houses down from you, and you’re all in for the idea of paying him a visit until Chenle refuses.

“Can you stop being such a walnut, Lele? Mr. Reitzer was on the same team as these people, he probably knew them well. This could be the way to figure out who they are.”

“Absolutely not. He lives two houses away from yours. Two. You’re practically asking to get caught. All your parents have to do is look out the window and they’ll see us, and then what?” You sigh in frustration, all the reasons why you couldn’t stand Chenle in the first place filtering through your mind.

You want to argue that the forest in your backyard and the fact that Mr. Reizter’s house is a gated mansion would make going to his place more discreet, but you keep your mouth shut. The answer to your questions could be, literally, down the street and you wonder if it would be a big deal to visit your neighbor without Chenle. Just the thought of it creates a weird, uneasy feeling in your stomach that makes you retract the statement from your mind. You hate to admit it but after visiting the Sunny Hillside Retirement Home, you started to slightly respect Chenle for his quick thinking under pressure, a skill that you obviously do not possess.

“Fine, we won’t go. Do you have a better idea?”

“I might. But it’s a bit… meticulous.” And that’s how you and Chenle end up at the city registrar's office, a small corner of city hall that doesn’t look like it has been used in several years. The office was stacked high with shelves of newspapers and documents dating back from several decades ago. This time around, you and Chenle thought through your plan carefully before visiting the registrar. You walk in separately, ask for different documents, and sit at different sides of the work room that’s adjacent to the office. Once the registrar left the work space, you and Chenle move to sit together in the far corner of the dusty room.

After taking the time to grimace at the old paper smell and the continuous sound of a fan working in the corner, the work room became your second home over the next few weeks. You spent hours sifting through several different newspapers from 1982 trying to find any traces of your mystery people.

It seems like it was the hundredth time you’ve sighed, the toll of hours of research coming onto you. Chenle walked out of the room a while ago and you cursed him out in your head for leaving to make you do all the work. Almost exactly after that thought, Chenle walks back into the room. He sets down a large cup in front of you and you quizzically stare at it.

“It’s hot chocolate,” He says as he sits and takes a sip from his own cup, “Don’t you know what hot chocolate does?” He muses. You take a sip, the chocolate melts on your tongue and the whipped cream mixes in to make just the right amount of sweetness to calm your frustration.

“No, what does it do?” You ask, almost distracted by the drink in your hands.

“It helps you think better.”

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious! Just watch, we’ll find something in no time.” You continue your work, and silently appreciate Chenle’s efforts to lift the spirit in the room.

You always take Chenle’s car to the registrar’s office, leaving yours at the school. You once pointed out how it would be less suspicious if you took your own car, making Chenle snort. “I’ve seen how you drive around the parking lot at University, you can’t handle driving through downtown.”

Chenle parks the car and walks out towards the meter. You watch him from inside the car, picking at the meter with his finger before he walks over to you. You slowly roll down your window.

“What’s wrong?” You ask teasingly.

“The parking downtown is expensive and someone told me I can put coins into one of those… things. I don’t have coins, give me some.”

“Expensive parking?” You ask, before your face raises in realization, “Do you mean… parking tickets? Lele, it’s illegal to park here if you don’t put coins into the meter.” He blinks at you with a blank face, as if you were speaking to him in an alien language.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not my car, why should I pay for the meter?” You explain and cross your arms stubbornly.

“C’mon, stop playing.” Chenle whines, a particularly harsh gush of wind blowing his blonde hair over his face as he reaches through the window and shoves your shoulder until you cave.

“Only if I get to drive tomorrow.” Chenle groans at your ultimatum.

“Fine, fine, whatever. Do you have to be like this, Clover?”

“Only for you, Lele.”

Sometimes, after searching through several documents and newspapers for a long time, you and Chenle lean back in your chairs and stare up at the off-white ceiling in almost-defeat, waiting for some motivation to pick you back up.

Chenle’s breathing almost lulls you to sleep. Whenever you blink, all you can see are the printed letters of newspapers in the back of your eyelids.

“This is so hard. I didn’t realize how hard this could be.” You mumble.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Chenle answers. You pause.

“You know the whole thing about bat poop in mascara? Yeah, that was all an urban myth.” Chenle laughs at your unexpected comment, turning to face you.

“What?” He can’t help but giggle at your how your hair sticks to your face as you turn your head to look at him, and he helps you move it away. “You really are a tree-hugger, huh?”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be confused.

“You know… the whole thing about Nuvane products being 100% free of animal testing and all that… You’re a tree-hugger.” Chenle explains like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I think you need to look up what “tree-hugger” means.” You roll your eyes, “Nuvane is 100% free from animal testing. I can swear that fact up and down and I’m proud of it. Thousands of animals are still killed through testing every year, it’s not really funny, Lele.” Your disapproving tone makes Chenle look away, a bit embarrassed at being called out. You bump your knee with his.

“Hey,” He turns to look at you, “My family are not tree-huggers, or whatever, they just don’t stand for that kind of stuff and neither will I.” You turn to focus back on the newspapers, and Chenle can’t help but admire you for a moment. You have a serious value that you uphold, and your pride in yourself makes Chenle admire you more than he already does.

Eventually you try the Internet, but the city’s digital records don’t go as far back as the 80’s. You check newspapers from 1983 and 1984, and expanding out into the nearby towns to see if their newspapers have the information you need. You refused to believe that the only trace of these people are one picture in an old yearbook. Unfortunately, luck was nowhere to be found and researching only became difficult as you proceeded; it was physically hard to keep sitting in the rickety and uneven chairs of the small work room.

Chenle watches you sit up, a hiss coming from your mouth at the feeling of your neck and back pushing into place after so many hours of hunching over papers. Your hands come up to massage the place your shoulders and neck meet as you try to get comfortable in your chair. Chenle barely realizes that he’s out of his seat, gently taking your tired hands in his own. You’re startled, but you let Chenle take control. His own hands replace yours, his delicate but strong piano fingers play a melody on your sore muscles, making you relax and lean your head back into his stomach. You occupy the room in silence for a few moments, Chenle expertly massaging until he realizes what he’s doing and suddenly stops.

“You weren’t doing it right. You’ll hurt yourself if you massage it like that.” He mumbles and sits back in his seat. You try to focus on your own work, but the lingering feeling of his fingers distracts you for the rest of the night.

You and Chenle tried to make the most use of your time, but every day you came back, the registrar seemed to become more and more suspicious of your endeavors. She’s an older woman, her wardrobe seems to consist of only tweed suits, and she wears wire bifocals that leave marks on the side of her nose when she takes them off. At first it seems like she was unbothered by your presence in her office, but after almost two months of research she decides to poke her head into the workroom. It takes you a minute to comprehend her presence and you jump away from Chenle, making him sloppily jump away from you.

“You kids have been camped out here almost every night for the past couple months. I think I now have the right to ask what you’re here for. There must be something I can help you with?” You and Chenle start to deny her request.

“Alright, but if I leave this room I may have to go make a phone call to the local news station. I bet they would be interested in why the two heirs of the biggest make-up companies-”

“Wait.” You tiredly call out when you realize what the registrar was hinting at, checking her name tag as she turns around. You had no idea if her threat held any substance, but you’re too tired to care. “Miss. Rose, we could use your help, but please don’t call anyone.”

“We’re trying to figure out who these people are.” Chenle sluggishly stands up and hands the ripped yearbook page to the registrar. “We haven’t had any luck so far, as you can tell.”

“This is what you’ve been slaving away for?” She tsks. “You could’ve just asked me first. I went to school with your parents. I was a scholarship student.” She explains and hands the photo back. You and Chenle physically slump at the realization that your answers have been this close to you all along. “Well, I was a freshman when these people were seniors. They were very popular while in school. College sweethearts, I think.”

“Wait, wait… they dated?”

“Yes, from the gossip that I heard. It was kind of obvious, too.” Miss. Rose leans against a desk and lifts her head up to the ceiling to remember. “They were always together, sitting at lunch under the apple tree in front of the University…” She trails off.

“Who are they?” You ask. The registrar gives you a perplexed look.

“You really don’t know? She’s your aunt.” Miss. Rose looks at you and then towards Chenle, “and he’s your uncle.”

“No, that’s not possible. I don’t have an uncle.” Chenle refuses and the registrar shakes her head.

“I specifically remember being told to keep away from them because they were one of the sons and daughters of the people who ran Zhongcology and Nuvane.”

“You were told to stay away?” You furrow your brows.

“My parents told me to not associate myself with them... since their companies just formed and I was just a… poor student.” Miss. Rose looks away. “I guess that was a smart idea since they started to rival against each other a few years later…” She trails off, “but that looks like it’s changing?” She smiles suggestively. Before you can deny, she speaks again.

“Why are you looking for these people?” The question threw you and Chenle off guard. Despite the months spent looking for these people, this was a conversation you have yet to share. As if Miss. Rose could sense the tension her question brought, she quickly spoke up.

“It doesn’t matter, you kids better head home. It’s almost nine.”

“Wait.” You call out before she turns around to walk out of the room. “What happened to them? Where are they now?”

“Oh, I’m not sure about that. I didn’t see them during the second semester of that year. I don’t think they ever graduated either.” With that thought, she walks out of the room. As you pack away the files you checked out and put on your coat, you think about the last words Miss. Rose said. “They never graduated.” These people, who are apparently close family that you never knew you had, are out there somewhere. Living their lives and probably not thinking about what they left behind. Do they know you exist? Do they feel guilty about leaving? Why would they want to leave their family?

“What are you thinking about?” Chenle gently nudges your shoulder, and you only now realize that you’re outside, halfway to the car. It’s cold; it feels cold and smells cold and the cloudless night sky does not help heat up the city.

“Why do you want to find out so much about these people?” The repeated question stuns Chenle to his spot and you both stop walking. Your toes are beginning to lose feeling from staying outside for too long. Yet you still face Chenle, who recently dyed his hair a vibrant green color and somehow manages to pull it off with a navy Burberry coat.

“Well… at first I was just confused and curious. Now that I know that man is my uncle… I really want to find where they are.” Chenle admits. You nod and Chenle reciprocates the question. Before you can stop yourself, you let all your thoughts out, forgetting about the history between the two of you. Whatever you were taught to believe about Chenle, you refused to believe now; especially after spending so much time together these past few months.

“I’ve only seen that woman in photo albums… And now… I just want to know who she is. What does it mean that they never came back to finish school? Actually, thinking about it now, can we even trust Miss. Rose? She said she was only a freshman when they were seniors, and she didn’t know them personally-”

“Hey,” Chenle gently grabs onto your elbow. If he was as confused and nervous as you, he didn’t show it.

“We’ll figure it out. We know more now, that’s a good thing, Clover.”

“Yes, but why does it seem that answering one question just leads to four new questions?” You ask and he pulls you closer in response. In the past, you would have shoved him away, threw him a nasty glare and told him to bug off, but now you accepted the close proximity, even leaning towards him more. His cold hands hold your colder cheeks, timidly rubbing comforting circles as if asking if this was okay.

“Whatever it is, whatever happened, we’ll figure it out together. We seem to be good as a pair. Too bad we only found that out now.” He smiles and you offer a weak smile back. The look you give each other lasts longer than expected, and you feel gravity pull you to him. You can’t stop it, it feels too natural; like the pull of the moon to the Earth or the pull of waves to the shore. Chenle’s heart thumps in excitement and want when he realizes the moment is just right, his hands sliding down to hold your neck, but you’re yanked out of the moment by the stark honking of a car.

Jumping away, you both look towards the nearby intersection where two cars angrily honk at each other. You sighed in defeat, but Chenle feels agitated. With the moment broken, you seperate and a new type of cold engulfs both of you. You make your way to the car and the drive home is silent once again.

“Chenle.” A voice from the top of the staircase echoes out into the foyer. Chenle freezes in his steps and quickly turns around. He gives a half-smile to his father who begins to cascade down the staircase wearing his matching Prada robe and slippers, looking like he’s supposed to go to a photoshoot rather than to sleep.

“Where have you been, son? You keep coming home late nowadays.” His father reaches him and pats a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder. Chenle appreciates the gesture, too bad it isn’t sincere. He knows the look on his father’s face: “Tell me the truth, what have you been doing.”

“I’ve been studying at the library.” Chenle half-lies.

“I’m glad to hear that, Chenle. You don’t want to study here?” “Who are you with every night?”

“I would, but I might get distracted.”

“Ah, yes. Focus on school for now. One day, you’ll be in my shoes.” “Don’t let this happen again.”

“Yes, sir.” Once Chenle is secure in the private walls of his room, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He doesn’t have many interactions with his father: some in passing in the hallways, some when he visits his office, or some at dinner every once in a blue moon. The intimidating air his father carries makes him a great negotiator and businessman, and a horrible father at the same time. Chenle then remembers the new information he learned just a few hours ago: that man has a brother, a person who has been kept secret from Chenle for his whole life. He feels strands of anger pull at his chest; his father is many things, but he prides himself in not being a liar. Chenle’s head hurts as he thinks about how that’s not the case anymore.

Just as quick as they came, Chenle’s heavy thoughts dissolve when he pulls off his coat and the smell of you permeates through the air. He stands in the middle of his room, shamelessly pushing the coat into his nose to smell more. He sighs as he pulls it away from his face, thinking about what could’ve happened on that sidewalk if the cars didn’t bother you. His tummy goes static and his heart swells, making him close his eyes in bliss at just the thought of pulling you close and feeling your lips on his own.

Chenle was sure he began to feel these feelings for you as soon as he realized you’re not what his parents told him you are. You’re not a reckless, lying tree-hugger, but a compassionate and hard-working person with a love for animals. He feels that anger come back to him; he has been lied to for so long by the people he trusted. Chenle would feel lost and confused right now, but he knows he has you, no matter how much either of you want to deny it. He thinks about you some more as he gets ready for bed, and when he lays in his dark and silent room, he smiles at what tomorrow could bring.

Little does Chenle know, on the other side of the mansion, his father walks into his office after his encounter with Chenle, and situates himself behind his large desk. Liwei Zhong’s office mirrors his personality perfectly: dark velvet curtains covering the windows and the desk chair, mahogany wood cabinets with neatly filed papers, and not a speck of dust to be seen. Leaning back in his chair, Liwei pushes a blue button on his phone, and one of the butlers of the mansion glides through the doors.

“How can I assist you, sir?”

“Find out where Chenle has been going in the evening. I don’t care how you do it, but I need hard evidence.”

“Right away, sir.” The butler exits the room as quick as he entered and Liwei glances over at the portrait of his family that hangs over the burning fireplace. He’s standing behind Chenle’s mother with an indifferent hand on her shoulder and Chenle sits next to her; the picture was taken years ago when Chenle was beginning high school. Despite the youth in his face, he held seriousness in his eyes and it made Liwei’s chest fill with pride. He pulls out a picture of his brother that sat snugly in his desk drawer, holding it up to the portrait. If only there was a fourth person who could be added…. He sighs and throws the picture back into the drawer. His son, whatever he was doing, was not going to be put to waste like his brother was. Liwei can’t do anything for his brother now, but he can do something for his son.

Step 2: Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake

The next day, Chenle walks through the courtyard at school, a pep in his step and a smile on his face. Chenle’s good day started the moment he woke up thinking about you, excited to see you today. He practically runs up the stairs and races down the hallways towards your locker. Approaching you with so many other people around was risky, but a discrete wave to each other every morning has become routine and something Chenle looks forward to. When he rounds the corner, the sight in front of him made him stop dead in his tracks. His good morning was officially ruined.

Yangyang, your incredibly fun and loud chemistry partner came up to you to talk about the recent lab. Your mind was still reeling through the events of yesterday (not just the information you learned from the registrar, but the near kiss with Chenle) and you didn’t even realize he was speaking to you.

“Y/N?” Yangyang asks and the sound of your name broke you out your thoughts.

“Yang? Oh, gosh, you were talking to me, weren’t you? I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. What’s wrong? You look troubled.” Yangyang was such a pure soul, so happy and innocent. You decide to spare him the unwanted details.

“I just have a lot on my mind, and I didn’t get that much sleep.” Both statements are technically correct. Not the full truth, but Yangyang didn’t need to worry about it. He pulls you into a hug, a very Yang-type thing to do, and holds you back at arms length after he feels you relax.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out, you have a good brain up there.” He ruffles your hair and it makes you laugh.

“And,” he leans in, making you lean in also, “I’ll let you sleep behind your book in chemistry today if you let me copy your notes from last week.”

“Deal.” You both giggle and Yangyang waves as he walks away. A flash of green catches your attention and you turn down the hallway. Chenle was staring at you, eyes wide and mouth set in a stern line. You smile stiffly and wave, but he doesn’t wave back. Only giving you a nod, he turns and runs down a different hallway. You furrow your eyes, a new feeling creeping into the concoction that’s already in your chest- anxiety. What if you screwed things up with Chenle last night? You don’t have too much time to think about it when you realize your next class starts in five minutes.

Chenle spends his morning classes thinking about the interaction he saw between you and the guy from this morning. The way he hugged you and leaned in to you and you both laughed. It rose the ugly green monster of jealousy in his stomach and no matter how much he tried to push it down, Chenle couldn’t. He realized there was still a large gap between you and him that was created by the social pressure to hate each other, since that’s what your relationship has been so far. He thought you both had come further than that; he wanted that gap gone.

So instead of having lunch, Chenle went to the library where he knew you would be. Once he sees your belongings laying at a table, he throws his stuff down and walks down aisle after aisle, peeking down the rows until he sees you leaning a shoulder against a bookcase with all of your attention on the book in your hands. Chenle takes a deep breath, finding whatever courage he could muster to move his feet to you. The movement causes you to look up, just in time to watch Chenle gently take the book out of your hands and set it down on the bookshelf somewhere behind you. He comes closer to you- close enough to push you back into the bookcase and brace yourself against it. Your heart beats wildly as he stares at you with so much confidence and boldness, you can barely think about anything else except how close he is to you.

“Let’s finish what we started.” He whispers and you barely have time to breathe before his lips are on yours. He snakes an arm around your waist to pull you against him while the other hand pulls at the ends of your hair. His lips mesh with yours so perfectly, you barely have to think when you kiss him. He pulls you closer like he can’t get enough and kisses you harder, patience and self control leaving both of you as time goes on.

“I’ve been waiting for this.” Chenle mumbles between breathes for air, opening his eyes for long enough to see the glossed over look in your eye, and quickly diving back into the dessert that is your lips. The words repeat in your head and send butterflies straight through your chest and to your stomach.

Suddenly, the clatter of books somewhere in the library brings you both back to earth. You try to jump away but Chenle holds you close, the hand that was in your hair now holding your jaw to keep you looking at him. His green hair sticks up and you only now realize that it was your doing, both of your lips a bright red color from all the rushed activity. You bite your lip as you think about the dirty actions you just committed and Chenle finds it to be the cutest thing ever.

“C’mon, let’s go to my car.”

“Your car?”

“Yeah, where else are we going to continue this?”

When the pictures land on Liwei’s desk, his continuance first washes over with anger and then betrayal. Grabbing the pictures in a tight fist, he flips through them, the anger spreading and churning. Pictures of his son pushing his enemy's daughter against the bookshelves with lips interlocked, pictures of them walking out of school to his son’s car, more pictures and more anger. Chenle’s father dismisses the man who delivered them, and promptly throws the pictures across the room once the door shuts. He paces in front of the fireplace pensively as he smooths his hair back; whatever was going on between the two of you, Liwei cannot let it continue. He cannot let Chenle think it’s okay to lie to him, he cannot let this type of insubordination take place under his own nose. Liwei pushes the blue button on his phone once again, a butler cooly walks through the door a second later.

“Tell Moon to release the file.”

“Which file, sir?”

“He’ll know what I mean.”

“Right away, sir.” And with that, the butler leaves the dark room, letting Liwei marinate in his own frustration.

It was everywhere, it spread like a virus. The news was on the tip of everyone's tongue, the twisted information spreading like vines on a brick wall, but much, much faster. You heard it on the radio as you were studying one night.

“This just in, a new report has been released from an old employee of Nuvane stating that Nuvane has been using animals to test their products before sending them to consumers. This company, who has been a known leader in animal-free testing...” you couldn’t even hear the rest, your heart beating too loud to pay attention to anything else. You reach for your phone, fingers shaking as you type in your passcode and press the call button on your father’s contact.

“Honey, I wish I could talk to you right now but there’s a situation-”

“So it’s true?” You try to keep your voice even, but the pregnant pause from the other side of the line releases a whine from your lips. “Oh, my god. It’s true?”

“No. No, it’s not.”

“Then why did you hesitate?”

“Listen, I don’t have time right now. We’ll talk about this when I get home.” and the line cuts. You stare at your phone, not believing your father hung up on you. The news then hits you, cutting through you with a knife that lets you know one of your oldest and strongest values has a foundation as shaky as a leaf. Before you can think of anything else, you stumble into the bathroom, barely turning on the lights and dropping your phone onto the counter. The water that runs out of the tap is close to burning hot, but you don’t let that stop you as you scrub your face raw with whatever make-up remover was closest to you. You’re not sure what’s more effective, the remover or your tears, but when you turn off the water and look at yourself in the mirror, strands of your hair and the front of your shirt are soaked from the frenzy. The rims of your eyes burn from the friction and your skin is rubbed into a red color that makes it look like you just ran a marathon. Despite the endless scrubbing, your face still feels dirty, tainted. You fear that feeling won’t go away anytime soon.

The events that progress on only happen within a few short weeks: You don’t go back to classes, the fear your parents have of you being ridiculed and bullied too great to overcome the need for you to become an heir, especially since there is no need for an heir if there is no company. Your father explained that Nuvane will be going bankrupt by the end of the year due to stocks dropping and several strikes against their products, leaving them out of business. Unless, by some miracle, the report is withdrawn and redacted by whoever released it in the first place.

The report, which your parents assured you was fake, left you stunned for two reasons. Firstly, that you could go back on your family’s word and be sent into the type of episode that you had instead of believing your father. It made you think about where your loyalties lay, and how they might have been skewed because of your recent activities with a certain someone. Secondly, if the report was fake, then the person or group who released it must have some sort of vendetta against the company or against your family.

You can’t help but let some tears fall down your cheeks at the thought of this having to do with the Zhong’s.

You didn’t need to communicate with Chenle about stopping your little investigation, the message of you not returning to classes and the photographs in the news of your family walking to and from the lawyer's office with bowed heads, despite not being guilty, proved enough to both of you that solving the mystery should be put on hold. Still, Chenle was curious about several things: The fact that you swore up and down that you would never wear make-up from a brand that abused animals made it hard to believe that Nuvane could pull off something like this without you knowing about it. Of course, Chenle couldn’t assume anything, but he would like to say he knows you better- he knows you aren’t a liar.

At one point in time, Chenle hated when you would make huge mental leaps, but now it was his turn to take the jump. Which leads him to the same conclusion as you: someone who doesn't like your family or their company is out for you, and he can’t help but think of his own.

He turns up at his father’s oak door, a hand raised, ready to knock whenever he gets enough grit to move his wrist. A wave of courage overtakes him, and knocking fills the hallway as Chenle waits for his father’s permission to enter. When Chenle walks in, the room is as dark and musty as ever, and he wonders what your father’s study looks like. Is it the same maroon and ebony color scheme with dread dripping down the walls? He wonders how you’re doing, a thought he’s been having a lot lately, but quickly shakes it off as he approaches his father’s desk.

“Son, what can I help you with.” His father had the lightest smile on his face and it scares Chenle. He only smiles when he’s happy, which is not a regular occurrence.

“I was wondering…” Chenle trails off and his father gives him a stern look.

“Chenle, what did I tell you about that look on your face? If you’re unsure about something, why say anything in the first place. It makes you look weak.” His father turns back to the papers on his desk, no longer entertained by Chenle’s presence. Chenle feels a streak of frustration burn a stripe through his chest and he let out his thoughts, uncertainty and fear out of sight.

“The scandal with Nuvane. I want to know the truth.”

“What truth? The truth is that they have been testing on animals this entire time, this report just allowed everyone to see that.” Chenle’s father continues his work and Chenle continues with his incessant grilling. “You hate them so much, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had something to do with that report.” Chenle dares to suggest, earning a glance from his father over his papers. The man drops them and opens a drawer in his desk, all while keeping steady eye contact with Chenle. The photographs land in front of Chenle, and despite the darkness of the room, he sees them clearly. His stomach plummets. There’s pictures of him pushing you up against the library bookshelves, completely unaware of the world around him and oblivious to the photographer that was taking pictures of this private moment. Chenle first felt embarrassment, which turns into confusion, which turns into anger.

“And you seem to love their daughter a lot.” Lewei states but Chenle can’t seem to look him in the eye, all previous confidence lost. “Let me ask you something, Chenle. Was it worth it? Was it worth dating some girl for a while just for it to end up like this. Look at what you made me do. Her family is probably going bankrupt. If she knew about these… she’ll probably blame you for the rest of her life-”

“Don’t.” Chenle manages to growl out.

“Don’t twist yourself into a knot, Chenle. Take this situation as a lesson to be learned. Your enemies are your enemies for a reason.” Hatred fills Chenle to the brim and he feels like he’s drowning in it, like he can’t breathe and his father is the one that pushed him into it all.

“Why did you do this?” These are the only words that Chenle can say at this point.

“There are some things you don’t know- you can’t know about.” With that, Chenle’s father gathers up the spilled photos, tucking them back into his cabinet and shoo-ing Chenle off. He numbly walks out of the office, his father’s last words hover over his head. There is something Chenle doesn’t know, and it’s finally time to find out.

You didn’t expect to be back in the small registrar’s work room so soon, but the light green letter that was slid into your families mail caught your eye the second it came in; you find yourself sneaking out into downtown that night. Your beanie covers your hair and your scarf covers your face as the strong wind blew you into the registrar’s office. She smiles somewhat sympathetically and continues to look at her book as you pass by. Chenle was leaning against a desk when you walk into the familiar work room, foot bouncing up and down with nerves.

“You came.” He sounds surprised. You slowly take off your winter gear as you sit down.

“Yeah, you said you had something to say.” Chenle almost couldn’t recognize you as he takes a good look at your face. Not only do you look tired, you sound like it, too. Your usual good posture is gone and your eyes look dead. Chenle walks closer to you and kneels down in front of you, turning your fatigued frame to face him.

“How are you?” He asks, not knowing where to start. Chenle reaches up with a gentle thumb pad to trace over a scab on your cheek. “What is this?”

“It’s nothing.” You try to look away, but Chenle gently cups your cheeks in his hands and turns you to face him again. You try to look away, but Chenle cranes his neck to make eye contact.

“Please, tell me what happened. I’m worried about you.”

“I scrubbed all the make-up off my face when I heard the news…” You trail off, not needing to finish. Chenle’s heart chips a bit, he slowly leans in to place a lingering kiss over the scab. You look so worn out; the worst thing is that Chenle can do nothing about it, and that’s what hurts.

“It’s all fake. You know it’s fake, right?” Chenle almost pleads to you. You nod your head, looking like you just need to be held right now. Chenle pulls you off the chair and down on the floor in front of him, wrapping you in his embrace; the floor was cold and dirty but you don’t care. Chenle tucks you away under his chin, and kisses the top of your head as you wrap your arms around his middle, hiding away from everything else in the world. He holds you for awhile, and you don’t realize how much you needed another human’s contact these past few weeks, specifically Chenle’s.

“I know, but how do you?” Chenle tenses at your question, and you pull away when you feel the change.

“That’s what I want to talk to you about.” You start to grow nervous at the look on his face. “But you have to promise not to freak out.”

“With the way you’re looking at me, I don’t think I can promise anything.” Chenle nods, preparing himself for your reaction.

“I talked with my dad,” The pause between his next words is almost unbearable. “He’s the one who released that report.” You completely unravel yourself from him to look him fully in the face.

“Why?” The question is simple, but Chenle has a hard time answering. For once in your life you don’t want to jump to conclusions, so you wait for him to respond.

“I was followed… that day in the library,” Chenle can see the gears turning in your head, “And there were some pictures taken of us that my dad saw.” A chill runs down your spine; you can only imagine what kind of pictures his father has his hands on. Embarrassment slowly overtakes what seems like every empty cavity in your body.

“So that’s why he released that… that fake report? We’re the reason-”

“No, no. This is not your fault-”

“Damn right, it’s not my fault.” You slightly push yourself away from him. Chenle cringes at how the words that came out of his mouth must sound to you.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“We caused this, Chenle.”

“No. What I’m trying to say is that it's not our fault. My dad should have never released that report because of what we did. That’s not fair to us.” Chenle thinks back to the words his father told him: “Look at what you made me do.” Neither of you did anything wrong, it was a few kisses. No one had any right to invade your privacy like this.

“Does it really matter now. That screwed my family over.” You wail out, “Nuvane is probably going bankrupt by the end of the year, Chenle. That’s it, I’m done after that. All because you couldn’t keep your lips to yourself” You spat out, the stress and anger shakes your shoulders and you feel like you could explode.

“Are you telling me you regret it.” Chenle asks as you stand up. He looks so small in front of you right now, but you’re too mad and embarrassed to care. “Because I don’t.” He finishes. Your head hurts too much and you were too confused to answer, which hurts Chenle, but he continues.

“We can still figure out what happened to those people in the picture-” You groan at the mention of the photograph, wiping the stubborn tears that fell down your neck.

“Chenle, do you think that’s what’s on my mind right now? I don’t think that what happened to those people can save anyone now.”

“We need to at least try, if we know where those people are we’ll have more than what we do now.”

“No, Chenle. I said I’m done, I mean it.” And with that, you put your coat and hat back on. “For the record, I didn’t regret kissing you. But now, I’m not so sure.” You turn and storm out of the work room, leaving Chenle’s heart worn out from your hasty confession.

The next day, Chenle approaches the mansion with the last of his hope. The electronic gates part and he drives through to the front entrance of the grand house. It snowed overnight, a hefty five inches covered the house and the yard; winter never looked more persistent than at this moment. Walking through the front door, an attendant leads him to a large tea room with light filtering in through the curtains and the smell of matcha mixed with old books fills the stagnant air. The man who Chenle is here to visit sits in a chair by a large window as he reads his book, his legs crossed and glasses perched on his nose. The attendant who led him here introduces Chenle, but the man does not pay any attention. Chenle gives the attendant a confused look but he walks away, leaving Chenle to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“Well sit down, have some tea. Don’t stand there like a log.” Chenle is startled by the man’s voice but does what he is told, and the man continues to look at his book. “What are you here for, Chenle.”

“I have a question about one of your old classmates.”

“Which one?” Chenle reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, pulling up the picture he took months ago and handing it over to Paul Reitzer. Despite what Chenle told you months ago about visiting Mr. Reitzer, he had no idea who else could solve the mystery of these missing people. He sent you an apology through his head this morning; he knows you’re mad at him and he hopes you’ll forgive him for everything he has done. Mr. Reitzer nods as he looks at the picture.

“I was wondering, where are they?”

“You are very straightforward, you know that, Chenle? You also seem like you stay true to your word.” The comment sent Chenle off guard as he looks around the room in confusion, anywhere but at the man in front of him.

“I… guess?”

“I am about to answer a lot of questions for you, I will need something in return.” This makes Chenle sigh. People like him are always out for something. Although Chenle didn’t understand why this information is kept so tightly hidden, it was starting to be irritating.

“What do you need?”

“Just for you to promise not to say where you got this information from.” The man finally turns to Chenle, startling him at the sudden attention.

“I promise. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good.” The man stands up and walks to a bookshelf, running his fingertips over some spines before hooking a book with his finger and swiftly pulling it out. A photo album is set into Chenle’s hands with several pictures of the man in front of him and the two people from the photograph Chenle knew so well.

“Jun Zhong would be your uncle, and Lena Wilson was his girlfriend. We were close friends. All three of us were on the Forensics team, we spent almost all of college together.”

“They really did date.” Chenle continues to flip through the photos. They seemed to begin at the beginning of college and continue through the years. Chenle watches as the three friends grew up picture after picture, holding trophies, eating food, and simply sitting around, laughing.

“Yes, they did. For a long time. I thought they were perfect for each other, I wished I could fight and quarrel about stupid little things with someone and still embrace them in my arms and laugh it all off in the end. It is a special type of love that you should not let go.” The words rang through Chenle’s head, his heart suddenly heavy as thoughts of you invade his mind.

“Their parents never liked the two of them dating, and they never wanted to be the heirs of their family company. They tried to run away.” Chenle looks up in shock. Run away? Is that why they never graduated from Carlston? “They failed.” Mr. Reitzer finishes and Chenle gulps at the ominous words.

“What do you mean?”

“They ran away in the middle of the night before New Years Eve. They slid on some black ice on their way out of town and crashed into a tree. The car caught on fire.” He collects the photos from Chenle as he sits back in shock. Chenle has more thoughts running through his mind, but one rose above the rest: He understood why they would want to run away. If you ask Chenle about his future four months ago, he would’ve proudly told you he wanted to be the President of Zhongcology. Now, Chenle could only think about how his father lied to him and blamed him for your family’s downfall. He would be anything but proud and happy to take over the family company.

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” Chenle stands up and backs out of the door, an absentminded “thank you” leaving his lips as he practically runs out of the house to his car and throws himself into the driver’s seat as his mind races with ideas. The death of both of these people has to be the reason the fight between his parents and yours started- Chenle was sure of it. He shakingly picks up his phone, calling you over and over again. Once he realizes you aren’t going to pick up, he flings his phone into the passenger seat and speeds home.

Step 3: When you are confronted with an opponent, conquer him with love

The gala is in full swing. The chandelier shining over the whole foyer, where people of high social status roam with their respective plus ones on their arms. Several people showed up for the last big hurrah of Nuvane. It was surprising how many of these people were trash talking your family’s company only weeks ago, but can turn around and flash a charming smile at your mother and father when they bring up giving away the assets of the company. It was your parents’ last way of making some fast money before shutting down production of Nuvane products. The company your family has built from the ground up decades ago will soon crumble, and you can’t help but be confused; Chenle was right, this isn't your fault. Then why did you feel so guilty?

Your royal blue Dolce and Gabbana dress cinches your waist and your Cartier diamond earrings are as heavy as your broken heart. You stay near your parents the whole night, the memories of what happened several days ago with Chenle repeating through your mind on a loop as you mindlessly talk to people who come up to you. You have yet to tell your parents the new information that Chenle told you, not really sure how to bring it up and scared of the consequences when you do. Suddenly, attention turns towards the front doors as the Zhongs enter. You nervously crane your neck to look for Chenle, but when you don’t see him walking with his father and mother you quickly lose interest. The inquiring eyes from other guests glance over as they walk up to your mother and father to start “friendly” conversation.

Attention is drawn to the front doors as they open once again, this time louder and not as elegant. The sip you took of your bubbly drink almost spews out of your mouth as Chenle runs in, tuxedo disheveled and his new brazenly-dyed orange hair making him stand out from everyone else. The room quiets down as Chenle shuffles through the people scattered around to reach you, his eyes looking at you only. He can’t help but admire how beautiful you look, the light from the room makes your skin glow and the color of your lipstick makes Chenle hungry for more kisses. Your heart lifts in your chest when he’s only a few steps away, he has the same look in his eyes as the day he approached you in the library. Liwei calls out before Chenle gets too close.

“Chenle! Don’t you dare take another step.” His voice booms throughout the foyer. Chenle’s familiarity made you want to dive into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and hide from it all, but you remember the last conversation you had. You were probably not his favorite person right now, but the past week spent without him, knowing that you said the things that you did out of anger and not truth, was killing you. You need him to know you didn’t mean it. He was so close, yet so far.

“Stop all of this. I know why you and the Y/L/N’s are fighting.” Quiet murmurs fill the previous silence and you try to get Chenle’s attention, but it’s no use as he walks towards both of your families. You watch his adam’s apple move as he gulps, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else notices his nerves.

“Your brother, Jun and your sister, Lena… I know all about them.” Chenle continues, “How they dated in college, how they tried to run away, how they died in that horrible car accident.” Your eyes widen along with the rest of the audiences at Chenle’s story.

“Lele… Is it true?” You whisper to him coming closer, until your mother grabs your wrist and pulls you away.

“Yes, Clover. It’s all true.” You never would’ve guessed that stupid nickname would make you feel relieved, but somehow you relax under Chenle’s soft gaze.

“Can you please control your son.” Your mother’s voice raises over the voices of the chattering guests. Liwei approaches Chenle and grips his elbow, pulling him away as if the strong grip could contain Chenle’s wrath and confidence.

“No.” He pushes himself away from his father. “What is all this fighting for? These decades of hating each other, what has it accomplished? Has it brought Jun and Lena back? Has it made you feel better about yourselves?” Chenle accuses.

“How did you even find out about this. What have you been telling him.” Your father points an accusatory finger at the Zhongs and they turn to Chenle for an answer. Everyone leans in to listen, and Chenle suddenly doesn’t feel as confident or big as before.

“I… can’t say.” The crowd grumbles at Chenle’s answer and he looks at you again. You know this look; he’s asking you to trust him- to have faith in him.

“I have been trying to figure out who Jun and Lena were.” You speak up and your mother and father looking at you in shock. “With Chenle. We’ve been doing it… together.”

“That’s what we were supposed to be doing in those pictures.” Chenle whispers to his father, but the comment was overheard by your father.

“Pictures? What pictures?” Your eyes widen.

“Chenle.” You hiss quietly, and he gives you a pointed look.

“You didn’t tell them about the pictures?”

“Not yet!” You hiss back. After a moment of silence, Liwei’s low laughter fills the foyer.

“Oh, the pictures? You mean the ones of you two in the library? Chenle pushing you against the bookshelves, kissing each other? Or the ones of what you did in the car afterward-”

“Stop.” Chenle whispers, but the crowd’s reaction covers up his voice.

“You sick bastard!” Your mother shrieks.

“Y/N… Is this true?” Your father asks. You bite your lips and try to look away, but the betrayal in your father’s eyes is too strong for you. Despite that, you don’t feel guilty anymore. Maybe it’s because Chenle still seems to be on your side, or maybe it’s because of the fact that the family feud had been about something as unstoppable and unfixable as the death of your relatives.

“Yes, it’s true.” You stand your ground.

“I thought we raised you better than that. I am so disappointed in you.” The quiet anger your father radiates sends a chill of fear through your spine, but is quickly replaced by the stuffy feeling of wanting to cry. It was unfair; other than meeting each other behind your parents’ backs, which was something you were forced into doing, you and Chenle didn’t do anything wrong. You were about to retaliate before your father held up a hand.

“I’ve had enough. I can’t let this continue, not with what our family is going through right now.”

“Dad…”

“No, you need some time away from all this, it’s obviously made you lose your mind. You’ll be staying with your grandparents from now on.”

“What!” You yell out, “You mean… in Canada?” The look your father gives you makes you assume you are right and your jaw drops. You couldn’t believe he thinks you’re the crazy one. You have not lost your mind, if anything, you see more clearly than before.

“No, wait, sir-” Chenle spoke up when he realizes that your father was serious about sending you away. The chatter of the audience rose when your mother tries to push you out of the room. Chenle reaches forward to grab onto any part of you that he could, but you could only send him a pleading look at you’re whisked up the stairs and Chenle is held back.

“Chenle, let’s leave.” His mother spoke from behind him, but he’s still trying to understand the events of what just happened. Your parents were really going to send you off to some other country, just like that? And for what, some pictures that were taken of you and him?

Chenle turns and runs out of the house, grabbing his coat and scarf along the way. He runs on the path that led around to your backyard garden, jumping over ice chunks as he rushes through your lawn. Once he reaches the area of your backyard under your bedroom window, he yells out your name, his voice cracking from the cold. When there’s no response, he gathers up some snow and throws it at your window.

The window opens a few moments later, your head peeking out.

“Clover!” Chenle yells again, this time in relief. “Let’s go.” He calls out.

“What?” You answer.

“I said let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere, somewhere other than this place. Those people are crazy, Clover. They want to send you to Canada! C’mon, we can find somewhere to go. I know you might hate me, but I can’t stand the thought of leaving you here with these people. You don’t deserve this kind of life.” Chenle calls up to you.

“I’m sorry!” You shout down to him, and Chenle squints in confusion.

“Why?”

“What I said, about regretting that kiss. I don’t regret it, not one bit. I was just… angry and embarrassed.” The cold, winter air stills around Chenle as he digests your confession. “I don’t hate you, Lele. I think… It may be the opposite.” He felt tears prick at his eyes as he looks up to you, your upper body hanging out of the window as you shout your confession.

“Do you trust me? Because I trust you. Fuck, this might be the wrong time to be telling you this, but here I go.” Chenle sighs and you lean a bit farther out of the window to hear him.

“I think all the shitty things we have been taught about our families have been... untaught by spending so much time together. Not just untaught, I relearned. I learned how the things I once hated about you, that those are the things I love now. Yeah, I love you. And if you leave for Canada I know there’s not a chance I’ll ever see you again. I’d rather take the chance to get out of this city than to stay here without you.” Delicate snowflakes fall from the dark sky as Chenle confesses his love to you, laying it all out for you to either catch or throw away. You can't believe what you’re about to say, but you want it, too. You want to get out of this town and go. Most importantly, you want to do it with Chenle.

“Okay... Let’s go.”

Your elegant dress is thrown down onto your bedroom floor as you change into jeans and a sweater, not giving the room a second glance as you climb down the side of your house. The flimsy coat you grabbed before leaving barely did anything to keep you warm, but you keep running through the forest behind your backyard like you can’t feel the frostbite nipping at your skin. The trees in front of your path were only illuminated by the moon and the stars, your breath fogging in front of you as the small specks of snow land on your hair and eyelashes. Despite the burning of your lungs and muscles, the cold snow that reaches halfway up your shins keeps you cold.

“Chenle, wait. Slow down.”

“No, we don’t have time.” The rising of your knees to run through the snow was tiring and Chenle’s hand that tightly held yours practically pulls you through it all. Chenle looks behind him at your freezing figure, suddenly stopping despite his previous words. He takes off his scarf, wrapping it around your exposed neck and tucking it into your coat.

"Lele, you're gonna freeze." You say, noticing how his neck is now exposed, his skin turning more pale than usual.

"I'll be fine, as long as you're okay, Clover." The words warm you up, but you don’t get another second of rest as Chenle grabs your hand and pulls you further through the forest; you’re not sure if he knows where he’s going, but you trust him. Eventually, the sound of passing cars pulls Chenle into one direction, and you’re thrown out of the forest and onto a highway. Chenle pulls you down the street until you see the sight of his familiar car haphazardly parked on the side of the road.

He hastily retrieves his keys from inside his tuxedo jacket and opens the passenger door. He helps you in and buckles your seatbelt, grabbing the sides of your cold cheeks with his numb fingers and pressing his lips to yours for just a second before pulling away. His lips sends warmth through you that makes running through a snowy forest and the cold you’ll get later worth it. Before he can get too far, you grab his hands and pull him back.

“I love you, too.” You confess. “I can’t believe you said it first.”

“I’ll never let you live it down, Clover.” He grins, and leans in again, pressing his lips to yours several more times, relishing in the simple fact that it’s something he can do now, without restraint- without the eyes of anyone watching. He closes your door and rounds the car to the driver’s side, starting the car and driving onto the highway. You and Chenle drive out of town, to the next city, and the next one after that- not stopping until the sun rises and you don’t know where you are. For once, the car is not filled with silence, but of music from the radio that’s turned all the way up, of Chenle’s shrieking laughter as you tell him story after story from your childhood, and of your kisses that you press to his hands to warm them up.

City after city, one highway to the next, your hand on his over the middle console. The nerves of a pair of runaway covered by the beating of your heart, thumping with adrenaline, love, and contentment. You are free.

Indeed, keep your friends close but your enemies closer; until your enemy becomes your friend, and that friend becomes your lover: this is the intricate art of being enemies.

»»————-✧༺♥༻♛༺♥༻✧————-««

[anistarrose]

Fear The Reaper A Lot, Actually - Chapter 4

AO3

Chapter Summary: An unlikely friendship springs from a book club, while secrecy becomes more important than ever for Tres Horny Boys. Kravitz receives a summons. Angus does a hit.

Characters: Kravitz, Taako, Barry Bluejeans, Angus McDonald, Magnus Burnsides, Merle Highchurch, Noelle | No-3113, The Raven Queen, The Director | Lucretia, misc. BoB cameos

Relationships: Taakitz, Angus McDonald & Taako, Barry Bluejeans & Kravitz, Kravitz & Angus McDonald

Don't let the Lunar Interlude-esque setting confuse you — this update's a long boi! If you can't already tell how much I love Angus McDonald, then the next few thousand words should make it pretty clear.

***

Some days, Kravitz found paperwork relaxing. Today was not such a day.

The Raven Queen was almost always receptive to his suggestions about how to restructure the forms, and happy to do what she could to minimize the bureaucracy and tedium inherent to almost any other office job. But today, Kravitz’s unbeating heart just wasn’t in his work — just like yesterday, after he’d returned from Wave Echo Cave.

So it was simultaneously a relief and a surprise when a blue glow flashed in his peripheral vision, and he felt the telltale tug of a summons from the Material Plane, specifically…

“The moon?” he muttered out loud. “What is with these people and ridiculous floating secret bases?”

The pull of the summoning spell was designedly weak, and easy for Kravitz to shrug off if needed — but he wasn’t going to pass up an excuse to get out of the office, and try to part ways with Taako on a better note this time. Maybe he could ask around, find out if anyone knew what Lucas and Noelle were up to…

In a cozy bedroom on the moon, a hissing plume of smoke emanated from a sapphire arrowhead, embedded in the soil of a potted plant. As the smoke solidified, Kravitz’s human form took shape, and instinctively scanned his new surroundings for dangers or necromantic abominations.

Two floor-two-ceiling bookshelves were stuffed with novels and encyclopedias, and glow-in-the-dark stars covered the ceiling. The bed was neatly made, but was so small it couldn’t have accommodated anyone larger than a gnome, or a halfling… or a human child.

“Hello again, Mister Grim Reaper,” said Angus. He sat on a tiny wooden chair, pen in hand and notebook open to a fresh page. “I’ve got a number of questions for you.”

Kravitz plucked the arrow from the potted plant, and the electric blue glow of the sapphire faded. “Does Taako know you have this?”

“Nope. But if he did, he’d probably endorse me breaking the spirit of the law, if not the letter — after all, you never said that only Taako could summon you this way.”

Kravitz holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. I was just… expecting to meet with Taako today, so this surprised me. But I’d be happy to answer your questions — provided they don’t take more than an hour or so.”

Angus narrowed his eyes. “Will you answer me honestly?”

Seeing no reason to lie to even the most precocious of ten-year-olds, Kravitz declared: “I swear to answer truthfully upon my oath to the Raven Queen.”

“Then tell me — why are you so nice?”

“Pardon?”

Angus glared at him. “You know exactly what I mean — why are you so helpful? You tried to reap my friends’ souls, and told them they that could only save themselves by accomplishing an impossible task! But then, you — you saved them yesterday, and even healed them! What are you playing at?!”

Immensely grateful that he’d set the terms on his own honesty oath, Kravitz told the truth with a few details omitted. “I helped them because they seemed like nicer people than most of the bounties I hunt — and in that strange sort of ‘begrudging respect’ way, I guess I’m growing fond of them.” Taako even moreso than the others.

“If you were really fond of them, you wouldn’t be trying to kill them in the first place,” Angus muttered, lowering his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Kravitz told him, and that too was the truth. “It’s just what my job demands —”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have gotten into this line of business!” Angus screamed, wiping tears from his eyes. “In two months, I’m gonna lose three of the closest people I have to family, and it’ll all be because I’m just a kid detective who can’t track down a couple of liches — but it’ll also be because of you! I hate you, and I hate everything you stand for!”

Angus’s fist sunk harmlessly into Kravitz’s raven-feather cloak, but he staggered backwards like he’d punched a brick wall, falling to his knees and taking off his glasses to sob — but against his better judgement, Kravitz kneeled down at Angus’s side.

“Don’t count out Taako and the others just yet,” he whispered. “I’ve seen them do miraculous things — escaping from me in the laboratory, for one thing, and banishing Legion, for another. If they can defeat thousands of unruly undead souls in combat like that, then they might just be worthy opponents for even the most crafty and powerful of liches.”

“You’re sure they’ll be okay?” Angus sniffed.

“No,” Kravitz admitted. “I’m not sure. I wish I could be, because I really don’t want to send them to the Astral Plane. But they’ve got help — not just your smarts, but my scythe as well, because I don’t intend to just stand idly by without giving them a fighting chance. I… truthfully, Angus, when I offered them the deal, I wanted to bring an end to the headache they’d given me by any means necessary. But they’ve earned my respect since then, and though the deal can’t be undone, there’s no rule stopping me from aiding them. I don’t want to reap their souls if there’s any way I can avoid it, any excuse or loophole.”

Angus rubbed his nose. “Do you — do you normally like reaping people’s souls?”

Kravitz took a moment to think about his answer. “I was a human like you, once. Alive, and precocious, and always getting in over my head. When I died, and started serving the Raven Queen as a reaper, I felt like I had discovered my life’s purpose, even though it ironically required becoming undead as a prerequisite. My duty is to keep the balance of the universe — to save lives by stopping liches, necromancers, and their foul servants from upsetting that balance — but I remember what it felt like to be mortal, to have mortal loved ones. So… I don’t enjoy watching people grieve, because it feels all too familiar.”

He sat down, and crossed his legs. “I don’t tell a lot of people about this, but in a way, if I’d come to terms with death and grieved more quietly when I was alive… well, let’s just say I probably wouldn’t be a reaper today.”

Angus managed a smile. “You know, you’re nothing like the Grim Reaper in the Caleb Cleveland, Kid Cop books.”

“Oh? I know there are… a variety of misconceptions about me floating around in the world, but I haven’t read that series. Are they detective stories?”

“They’re the world’s greatest detective stories,” Angus declared, “and I own every installment!” For the first time since his ill-fated attempt to punch Kravitz, he stood up, and selected a book from his bookshelf. “This is the first one that you — well, not really you — show up in.”

Kravitz took a look at the cover illustration, which featured a child in a deerstalker hat standing back to back with a deathly pale man, dressed in tattered gray robes and wielding an iron scythe. The title read Caleb Cleveland and the Mask of Death.

“Not much of a resemblance, is there?” Kravitz mused. “I guess can’t fault them for the iron scythe, because that’s what everyone seems to expect, but iron and celestial magic don’t always get along — better than iron and fae magic for sure, but still not especially well.”

“His personality isn’t a whole lot like yours either, sir,” Angus sheepishly admitted. “This is the start of the five-book Grim Reaper arc, which starts off with the reaper helping Caleb solve murder mysteries until Caleb’s previously-struggling private detective agency — which he started after his schism with the corrupt police establishment in the last book — is renowned throughout the country. But then Caleb realizes that the reaper is just trying to bring about an era of prosperity and increased population density, so that he can kill the maximum number of people possible while poisoning the water supply! And of course Caleb disavows his partnership with Death, but the reaper spends the next four installments of the arc committing more murders as revenge — which initially felt like a little bit of a motivation downgrade, if I’m being honest, but it also led to some great continuity between books as well as some really well-written horror that unsettles without pulling on cheap shock value! So they turned out to be some of my favorite books in the series, and… I’m sorry if I judged you a little hastily because of them. You’re a whole lot nicer than the Grim Reaper I expected.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You’re hardly the first person to misjudge me for my line of work, and I don’t expect you to be the last.” Kravitz flipped through the book, which was full of underlined words and fan theories neatly written in the margins. “Actually, do you mind if I borrow this? I’ve always loved mystery novels.”

“You really want to read it?” Angus’s eyes lit up. “Uh, well, I should probably start by giving you the first book in the series, otherwise a lot of callbacks to previous adventures won’t make sense. But I guess I did kind of just spoil the whole plot of Books 21 through —”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kravitz assured him with a smile. “And I think I will take Book 1 to start out, please.”

“Alrighty, then!” Angus selected a well-worn book from his shelf and handed it to Kravitz. “Could you, um… let me know what you think of it when you finish reading?”

“I absolutely can. Oh, and Angus?”

“Yes?”

“You sound like a marvelous detective. If anyone can crack the case of these liches, I believe it’ll be you — but don’t beat yourself up if you can’t, alright? That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, and you’re a growing kid — you need your rest.”

Angus nodded. “I’ll try to remember that, sir.”

***

Angus gave directions to the three Reclaimers’ shared dorm, but didn’t specify which individual room was Taako’s, so on a hunch, Kravitz knocked on the door of the room that smelled the most like baked goods. Sure enough, he heard Taako shout “It’s unlocked!” over the banging of bowls and cookie sheets.

“You need to look after your arrows better,” Kravitz warned him as he entered. “If someone with more malicious intentions than Angus were to steal one, then they could easily lure me into a trap.”

Taako blinked. “Whoa, what happened to your accent? I thought you were a stranger and almost chucked a bowl of gingersnap dough at your head!”

Kravitz narrowed his eyes. “Did you really? You look like you’ve got a pretty firm grip on it, there.”

“No, you called my bluff. I’m too good of a chef to just go chucking perfectly good food whenever someone spooks me — the point is, what is up with your voice, my dude?”

“It’s, um… a work accent,” Kravitz explained. “My normal voice isn’t that intimidating. As you can tell, heh.”

“Still wouldn’t want you to slice me up with a scythe, though. You gotta give yourself more credit.” Taako rolled a small handful of gingersnap dough into a ball, dusting it with sugar and placing it in the corner of a fresh cookie sheet. “And to answer your complaint earlier, Angus wasn’t as slick as he thought he was when he swiped that arrow, but I let him get away with it ‘cause I knew neither of you two dorks would try to fight each other or anything like that.”

“He actually did want to fight me for a minute or two,” Kravitz replied, “but we worked it out and now we’re apparently… book club buddies? I’m not sure, I’m no good with kids — or maybe I’m better with kids than I’m consciously aware of?”

Taako snorted. “I didn’t endear myself to little Ango at first either, but now I guess I’m his hero, and his teacher, and maybe even his emotionally adopted uncle or something? There’s just something magical about that kid.”

“Absolutely, but… he seemed stressed.” Kravitz sighed, and Taako’s expression softened. “I suppose this is partly my fault, but there’s an awful lot of pressure on him.”

“Yeah, he — he doesn’t find it so funny when me an’ the boys joke about death, I’ve been noticing. I’ll make sure he takes some time off the case to relax — you think that would help him?”

“I think that would be a good place to start.” Kravitz nodded, glancing over the sheets of oatmeal cookies cooling on the adjacent counter. “You look like you’ve been keeping busy yourself.”

“Yeah, the Director was so thrilled with my Candlenights macarons that she requested a couple batches of oatmeal-white chocolate and some gingersnaps. Guess she read my cookbook or something — ‘cause my whole cookie portfolio is choice, don’t get me wrong, but those are a couple of my top-tier baked goods after the macarons.”

“They smell heavenly — and I should know, working in the Astral Plane! Do you mind if I try one?”

“Wait!” Taako pushed Kravitz’s hand away from the tray. “I didn’t check them for — hang on, you’re already dead, right? You know what, go for it. Sorry about that.” Under his breath, he added: “It’ll be fine. Perfectly fine.”

Confused and a little concerned, but too polite to decline Taako’s offer, Kravitz took a bite of an oatmeal cookie. It was still slightly warm, and the white chocolate melted in his mouth, but he couldn’t imagine it being any less of a delight after having cooled, either.

“So, how many of these does your boss actually want,” asked Kravitz, “and how many can I take back home? They’re just as good as they smell!”

“Course they are,” Taako snickered. “Gimme a few minutes here, and I’ll make you a little gift baggie.”

“Speaking of gifts, that reminds me —” From an inside pocket of his cloak, Kravitz procured four new summoning arrows. “I spoke with the Raven Queen, and was able to arrange an exception to that… company policy, the one about summoning me for business only.”

Taako didn’t look away from his cookie sheet, but his ears immediately perked up.

“You can use them outside of emergency situations — within reason, of course,” Kravitz continued. “I don’t want to manifest in the middle of, I don’t know, a heated debate about moon bylaws, or whatever it is that you people vote on up here.”

“Actually, it turns out moon society is kinda authoritarian.” Taako finished filling the first sheet with gingersnap dough, and began work on a second. “But be honest — how much of this was actually premediated on your part, and how much is just a spur of the moment decision now that you know I’ll give you free baked goods?”

“It was premediated, but make no mistake, the baked goods are a bonus,” Kravitz chuckled. He neglected to mention that there had been no company policy in the first place, nor had there been a conversation with the Raven Queen. Part of him just wanted to give Taako his Stone of Farspeech number like he had with Angus, and bid farewell to the archaic summoning rituals altogether, but it would still be handing over personal information to an active bounty, and there were some lines even Kravitz didn’t dare cross — at least, not yet. “But as good as it is to be able to keep in touch with you, there’s something I should probably warn you about sooner rather than later.”

“Fire away.”

“I assume you were looking for Lup in Wave Echo Cave the other day. But that didn’t unveil many clues to you, did it?”

“Unveil? No matter you and Angus are starting a book club, you speak in the same detective mambo-jumbo. But you’re right, we found zilch.”

“Are you going to start looking for Barry Bluejeans next, by any chance?”

Taako made a funny expression. “Yeah, I guess that’s the plan. But, well, we also agreed that the plan should be to stay on the moon to rest and train for a couple days — ‘cause Magnus has been a bad influence, and we all rushed into the cave expedition just a day after we almost died averting the crystal apocalypse. You saw how that worked out for us.”

Kravitz nodded. “Today is the first day I’ve actually seen you without bags under your eyes. It suits you.” The last part slipped out without Kravitz thinking it through, but it prompted a wink from Taako, which Kravitz considered among the better possible outcomes of impromptu flirting.

“But getting back on topic,” he continued, “I wanted to warn you about Barry. I’ve encountered him a number of times, and he’s not exactly a normal lich.”

Taako sat down on a stool and crossed his legs. “Well, you dunno what my reference point is for liches. He could be a totally regular, run-of-the-mill lich by my standards — maybe a little spooky, but nothin’ to write home about, you know?”

“Then you’d be consorting with some pretty strange liches, because Barry is a very confusing one. Most liches are either antisocial or obsessed with grim monologues, but Barry has held a handful of coherent brief conversations with me — all of which started out weirdly normal, until he started rambling nonsense about the planar system with a genuinely unsettling amount of conviction.”

“Oh, those liches,” Taako muttered, nodding along. “Always saying the darndest things.”

“I feel like you’re not taking this as seriously as you could.” Kravitz narrowed his eyes. “To be fair, I’ve never seen Barry hurt innocent mortals, which is another way he differs from essentially all other liches — but that doesn’t mean that he’s not a threat, especially if you’re hunting him down. After all, there’s a reason I’ve spoken to him several times, but never successfully captured him.”

Kravitz thought back to one of his first and most troubling encounters with Barry, about a year after the end of the Relic Wars. They’d crossed paths by accident, in a seaside town recently demolished by a serpent of the Oculus’s creation, and Barry had exploited the shambles of the port to his advantage, hurling fishing nets and tattered sails at Kravitz as he made his escape.

“You can’t run from justice forever, Bluejeans!” Kravitz had shouted, slicing through a weighted net with his scythe. “Your kind all wind up in the Eternal Stockade eventually!”

“I’ve spent decades bracing myself for the end of apparent eternity and the exhaustion of apparent infinity,” Barry had replied matter-of-factly. “If your prison could really stay intact until the end of time, then I’d be happy to hunker down there with everyone I love and wait for this storm to blow over.”

With a flick of a spectral hand, he’d flung a half-dozen crates of rotten fish at Kravitz’s head. “But you don’t see me handing my soul over without a fight, so… I guess that should tell you everything I think about your so-called ‘eternal’ stockade.”

Kravitz had easily dodged the crates, but stepped right into the epicenter of the geyser that erupted from beneath the dock a moment later, launching him into the air. By the time he’d flown back down to sea level, Barry had been long gone.

“You know, if he still seems pretty chill for a lich,” Taako mused, dragging Kravitz back to the present, “and he’s harmless except for when you try to capture him, then… why are you still trying to capture him? Why not just let him do his thing?”

Kravitz sighed. “That’s a good question, and I’m honestly curious… why do you think I haven’t given up on him?”

“Well… ‘cause liches are illegal, right? Is this a trick question?”

“That’s the answer I was expecting, and you’re not wrong — but that’s not the entire story, either,” Kravitz told him. “I also don’t want to leave Barry to ‘do his thing,’ as you put it, because I don’t know what ‘his thing’ entails. I’ve heard him allude to needing something specific out of undeath, but I don’t know what that is — if it’s immortality, or power, or something else altogether. I don’t know if he’s just putting on a harmless facade while he waits for me to let my guard down.”

Taako nodded. “You think he’s planning something.”

“I know he’s planning something. Most liches, they’re unpredictable because the combination of undeath and their hunger for power has eroded their sense of logic and driven them insane. And at first, I thought this was the one thing Barry had in common with them — with his nonsensical grim warnings, and haphazard pattern of popping up in the last places I expect — but over the past decade of hunting him, I’ve gradually realized he isn’t insane at all. He just bases his decisions off of information that no one else in the universe seems to possess, and constructs plans that no one else in the world understands. He’s unpredictable, but not irrational — and coming from a spellcaster as powerful as he is, that honestly terrifies me.”

Taako whistled. “Guess we’ve really got our work cut out for us, then.”

“I’ll leave you with this: please, if you track Barry Bluejeans down but he seems civil, and reasonable, and harmless, you still cannot and should not trust him, no matter what he tells you. With liches, even abnormal ones, you can’t risk anything less than constant vigilance. Take it from someone who learned it the hard way centuries ago, and has been significantly better at his job ever since.”

“Aww, you’re worried about us,” Taako snickered as he placed the gingersnaps in the oven. “But I read you loud and clear — you don’t need to worry about me falling for a lich’s tricks, of course, but I’ll remind the other two goofuses to be careful.”

He frowned, closing the oven door. “Although, now that I think about it… what does Barry even look like as a lich? I don’t actually know what we should be searching for, but I’m assuming it’s not a normal-ass dude in jeans.”

“Oh, you can’t miss him. Most necromancers spring for black or gray robes, but his is bright red.”

Taako’s eyes went wide. “You know those grim warnings you mentioned him giving? Would they happen to be about, uh, the hunger of all living things?”

“You’ve met his lich form, too?” Kravitz slapped his forehead. “Were you also the best man at his wedding? Do you golf with him on Saturdays?”

“Man,” Taako muttered, “I am so glad we decided not to tell the Director about this.”

***

Angus found Noelle in the Bureau’s gym, dumping a cooler of water on her teammates as they finished an intense workout. On the other side of the room, Avi was thoroughly demolishing Brad Bradson at an impromptu game of half-court basketball, and a small but rowdy crowd had gathered to watch.

“Not gonna lie, I’d kill to be a tireless cyborg like you, Noelle,” Carey groaned, overdramatically collapsing into Killian’s arms. “I’m exhausted.”

“I dunno. If training didn’t make my arms ache, then I don’t think it would be half as satisfying,” Killian replied, wiping her brow. “Although some laser eyes to pair with my crossbow might be pretty kickass.”

“I’m enjoying the whole swappable body parts thing more than I thought I would,” Noelle said. “At first I was worried I’d accidentally fry a whole bunch of people with my arm cannon, but it turns out I can just take it off for non-violent occasions!”

“Hey, Angus!” Carey called out, waving to him. “Got any strong opinions about cyborgs and integrating technology into our bodies?”

“Um, I was actually just here to ask Noelle a few questions. Is this not a good time?”

Noelle shrugged. “Well, we just finished training for the day, so I don’t see why not.”

Angus beamed. “Great! But do you mind if we conduct the interview somewhere… a little quieter than this gym?”

Noelle raised an arm, shielding Angus from a stray basketball. “Sounds like a plan.”

Upon arriving in Noelle’s as-of-yet sparsely furnished dorm, Angus sat cross-legged on the floor and opened to a fresh page in his notebook.

“So, Magnus told me that you had a run-in with Barry Bluejeans shortly before his death in Phandalin. I’d never want to force you to think back to traumatic memories, but if there are any details you recall about him off the top of your head, that could be vital to our investigation.”

“I appreciate the concern, but it’ll be alright,” Noelle assured him. “I’ve already been thinkin’ back to that encounter a lot, ever since I learned Barry was a lich — ‘cause he really, really didn’t act like how I was always told liches would behave. See, he… he almost took a blast of fire to the chest while he was shepherding us into that stockroom, and even then, he told us to stay in there while he risked his life trying to lead the dwarf away. He was so brave, and he even got that dwarf out of the bar… but still not far enough away, I guess.”

“Was he using any spells? Magically redirecting fire? Did he try to teleport you to safety?”

“No, no spells that I saw. He threw a chair across the room to distract the dwarf at one point, but that was with his own two arms and I imagine a whole lot of adrenaline, not any sorta spectral mage hands or whatever it is that wizards use.”

“Hmm.” Angus clicked his pen. “I hate to say it, but if he didn’t cast a single spell, then it sounds like he really wasn’t trying that hard to save the town…”

“No, that’s not it. I’m sure of it. He told us not to be afraid, but he was… he was scared. Did a real good job of hiding it, but he was shaking as he closed that door to that stockroom and went back into the bar to face the fire. I sincerely believe he was doin’ everything he could to save us from the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet, and it just… wasn’t enough.”

“I wonder if Lich Barry has — or rather, had a kinder but more incompetent twin brother,” Angus mused, jotting down the thought in his notes. “It would make more sense than — wait. What did you just say about the gauntlet?”

“That Barry tried to save us from it? I guess I didn’t know what it was called back then, not until after I died and I remembered the Relic Wars —”

“Exactly! Noelle, you’re a genius!” Angus sprung to his feet. “We need to go talk to Johann!”

Noelle floated after him as he raced out of the room and towards the nearest elevator. “About what? The Voidfish?”

“Right! Maybe Barry didn’t cast any spells when he was alive because he didn’t remember that he could!”

“So when he died, the memories would’ve all rushed back to him, and he could go back to his lich-y business!” Noelle finished. “But why would the Bureau have erased information about Barry, of all people?”

“I don’t know,” Angus admitted as they stepped into the elevator and it began to descend. “Maybe he used to work with them, and went rogue? I’d ask the Director, but…”

“She’s not in on the lich-hunting secret, right. But you’ll probably have to tell her eventually, won’t you? Y’all can’t keep sneaking out forever.”

“Oh, I know. But the Reclaimers are going to be the ones to break the news to her, not me. They were the ones who lied about it in the first place, after all.” The elevator doors opened, and Angus sprinted out at full speed towards Johann’s office. “Johann, I have a question! Is there a way to check what people the Voidfish has erased?”

Johann gingerly set down his violin, and tapped his head. “You’re looking at it. I’ve been in charge of feeding info to the Voidfish basically since the Bureau got started, and lucky for you, I’ve got a pretty good memory for who and what gets erased from the rest of the world.”

He sighed. “I kinda… I feel like the least I can do is remember them when no one else will, you know? ‘Cause it’s what I hope someone will do for me when I’m gone, and… well, that got real depressing real fast. You probably don’t want to hear that, kid — so just tell me, who do you need to know about?”

“I realize now that I’m forming the question in my head that this might sound like a goof,” Angus admitted, “but have you ever erased information about someone named Barry Bluejeans?”

Johann laughed. “You’re right, that does sound like a goof! I can’t remember hearing about him before, never mind erasing him — and I’d definitely remember a name like that, trust me.”

“Oh.” Angus’s face fell. “I was so sure…”

Noelle drifted over to the Voidfish’s tank, watching the swirling galaxy patterns drift by. “Don’t give up, Angus. You might still be onto something — maybe the info could’ve gotten erased before Johann was in charge here, or maybe before the Bureau even found the Voidfish.”

Johann nodded. “Yeah, maybe. You want me to ask the Director about it?”

“No!” Angus and Noelle shouted in unison.

“Not yet,” Angus added hurriedly. “Maybe eventually. I’ll need to talk to Taako and the others about it first.”

“Okay, whatever,” Johann shrugged. “I don’t really understand what’s going on here, but you do you.”

As Noelle rode the elevator back to the roof with Angus, she asked: “So, what’s our next move?”

“I guess we should go tell the Reclaimers about the break in the case, or lack thereof. And maybe make an argument for coming clean to the Director, while we’re there.”

They made their way back to the Reclaimers’ dorm, but upon opening the door, every one of the room’s occupants jumped out of their seats in shock.

“Oh, it’s just you two,” Taako sighed, lowering his Umbra Staff. “Try and knock next time! I thought you were Lucretia coming to bust our secret meeting!”

The living room looked exactly how Angus would expect the site of an impromptu clandestine gathering to look, with dozens of papers scattered about and a corkboard lying on the coffee table. Red and blue strings connected dozens of thumbtacks, and the center of the board was occupied by a red crayon drawing of a disembodied robe.

Merle chuckled, elbowing Magnus. “You know, if you’d really wanted to keep our meeting secret, then we woulda made sure our ‘security guard’ actually locked the goddamn door —”

“That’s not important right now,” Magnus interrupted, closing the door and motioning for Noelle and Angus to join the circle around the coffee table. “What’s important is that you two haven’t let anything slip to Lucretia since the last time we talked!”

“Um, we haven’t, but…” Angus frowned. “We were actually thinking it might be better to let her in on the secret. I have a lot of questions that only she can help us answer —”

“Then they’ll just have to go unhelped!” Taako declared, magically silencing Angus’s Stone of Farspeech. “If you tell her our lives depend on arresting one of the Red Robes, she’ll go ballistic!”

Angus blinked. “I think I’m missing a lot of context here, sir.”

“I think I’m missing even more,” Noelle added.

Magnus pointed at the drawing of the Red Robe. “See this? This is Barry’s true form, according to Kravitz. And according to Lucretia, the Red Robes are all super duper evil, so she’s not too keen on us talking to them. Or interacting with them any more than we have to, really.”

“Well, what’s supposedly so evil about them?” Noelle asked. “Are they all liches?”

“No! Well, actually, they might be,” Merle admitted. “I dunno the states of all their souls, but we do know they made the Grand Relics!”

“What?” Noelle gasped.

“You know, like the Philosopher’s Stone?” Magnus added. “And the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet?”

“No, I know what the Grand Relics are, but there’s gotta be some mistake,” Noelle replied. “Barry was trying to stop the Phoenix Fire Gauntlet from going off and incinerating the whole town — and even if he was amnesiac when I met him, I just can’t imagine him ever creating something like that. It just doesn’t make sense —”

“Nothing about Barry Bluejeans makes sense,” Angus agreed. “There must be something we’re missing…”

“I’m sure there is, but one way or another, I’m pretty sure Barry did help make the Relics,” Magnus told them. “He’s popped up near almost every one of them, except for the Oculus —”

“Yeah, remember when you sensed a lich in the Cosmoscope, Noelle?” Taako chimed in. “That was Barry. He rooted through Lucas’s trash and said some ominous shit about billions of lives getting devoured. Doesn’t that sound like a guy who could be the evil mastermind behind the Relic Wars?”

“Well, why don’t we just ask him?” Merle spoke up. “I mean, it’s not like we have any trouble finding the guy even when we’re not looking for him, ha! — so next time we run into him, how about I cast Zone of Truth, and ask what he has to do with the Grand Relics?”

“That’s a great idea, sir!” Angus exclaimed, but his face fell after just a moment. “But if Barry usually just shows up around the Relics, and we have no idea where the last three are, then how will we know where to look for him? We don’t have the time to wait for another to surface randomly like the Philosopher’s Stone and Gaia Sash did.”

“Kid’s got a point, Merle,” Taako admitted, rubbing his chin. “But as long as we don’t have any other leads… I can think of at least once place it wouldn’t hurt to check, and maybe even grace with a séance!”

“Phandalin?” Noelle asked, and Taako nodded.

“Exactly! Sure, the last time we revisited an old stomping grounds didn’t go so well, but Phandalin’s just a flat circle where you can see danger coming from any direction. What could go wrong?”

***

End notes:

Some miscellaneous headcanons about the stuff in Angus’s room: Magnus made the bookshelves and chair, Lucretia provided the bed and helped Angus attach the stars to the ceiling, and the books are almost all Angus’s own. It took a while to bring them all up to the moon, but Lucretia was happy to help, and she and Taako both gave Angus a few more novels to add to his collection.

Next chapter has some exciting stuff happening, including an appearance from a certain lich that the boys may or may not be hunting, so stay tuned! I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to hold the every-other-Tuesday update schedule after Chapter 5, because long story short:

I got a part-time job that doesn’t take up that much time, but does occupy the part of the day when I’m usually in the mood to write.

I had mild insomnia for like a solid 4 nights, which I have since recovered from but not before it threw a wrench in my writing process, so that burnt through a “buffer” pre-written chapter or two.

I’m by no means abandoning this fic, but if updates slow down to more of a monthly pace after Chapter 5, this is why! Just wanted to give you all a heads-up.

[ice-cream-beat]

I'm sure you've gotten this question before, but how do you learn/study Japanese? Did you learn it from a class, or did you self-study? And have any tips for a fellow Japanese-speaker? Love your content, keep up the great work! ^_^

heya, thanks! I’m entirely self-taught, since the closest college that offers a JP class is two hours away and online tutors run more expensive than I’d care to pay for. for resources (whether you’re self-taught or class-taught), I’d personally recommend

WaniKani - a kanji-learning site (also available as an app) that’s dedicated solely to teaching kanji and vocab, nothing more and nothing less. it uses mnemonics to teach instead of just hammering you with lists to memorize, which is much more bearable and effective imo. it is a bit pricey ($80 a year) but you can try the first few levels for free, and every year around Christmas they offer a really big discount on the lifetime package. it also has a really active community forum that’s really helpful for answering questions on anything Japanese, and even has some fun things like book clubs.

Tofugu - a blog run by the creator of WaniKani. good list of resources as well as articles on culture, grammar, etc.

Midori - a JP dictionary app for iOS. costs $10 iirc but well worth it; you can type or draw in characters to look them up, and if you copy/paste words you want to translate it will show you the furigana over the kanji in addition to giving you the definitions. my only complaint is that it will sometimes incorrectly translate words/phrases with a lot of kanji in a row as several smaller, different words, but this is easily fixed as long as you pay attention.

HiNative - a site/app for a ton of languages that allows you to ask questions for native speakers to answer. the people on there are super nice from my experience and really quick to reply (it’s also fun to help out people learning English). for me, it’s been especially invaluable in learning casual phrases/slang that textbooks don’t typically teach you. the app is free, but the subscription of $8 a month gets you bonus question formats and a couple other bells and whistles.

Google Translate App - I recommend this with the heavy warning that the translation part needs to be taken with a grain (or ten) of salt; I use it for its scanning feature, which is surprisingly accurate 95% of the time. this is good for when you want to translate, say, a book page, but don’t want to hold the book open in one hand and write with the other. you can scan the text, copy it to an email/word document, and bring it up on your tablet or PC for easy viewing.

Twitter - if you can find some native JP speakers to follow, it’s a good way of getting a grasp on casual speech, and practicing your conversational skills if you’re comfortable doing so. I started off by following some of my favorite doujinshi artists, and through them I found other accounts that I liked.

As for textbooks, I’ve found that people’s tastes vary widely, but at the moment I use the Japanese From Zero series (which I avoided for a long time because the covers look so weebish, but it’s good at explaining grammar and has an integrated workbook, which is nice) along with Tae Kim’s Guide to Japanese Grammar (I own the hard copy, but it’s available for free on his site).

With regards to tips, the big things that come to mind are

- make learning part of your daily routine, even if it’s something as small as reading a couple sentences or reviewing stuff you already know. I make flashcards for important grammar/conjugation points, and if I put no other time into studying for the rest of the day, I can at least whip those out right before bed for a little review. I’d say that even if you can’t take in new information every day, you want to at least reinforce the info you already know.

- reading makes a big difference!! I noticed a big jump in my reading comprehension after I struggled through my first Japanese manga volume. it feels frustrating sometimes, but I think every little bit teaches you something. I’m still surprised that reading a phrase or word just once can stick it in my memory permanently if it’s used in a memorable scene. if you can find the JP and English versions of a manga or novel to read side-by-side (or the JP version of an English book you already know really well, like the Harry Potter series or something) then that’s all the better, as long as you keep in mind that localizations do often take some liberties in their translations.

- if you need incentive, set a goal for yourself--a specific, realistic one, like “I want to be able to read this particular book from start to finish” or “I want to be able to watch an episode of something in Japanese, without subtitles, and understand most of it.” or start even smaller if you prefer. (e.g. for a long time my end goal has been that I want to be able to read both Zestiria light novels comfortably--that is, hardly needing to consult a dictionary as I go, if at all. until I reach that point, I won’t even let myself attempt to read any part of them at all, so I remind myself of that on days when I’m feeling lazy.)

- lastly, don’t overdo it. if you need a break, take it, whether it’s for a day or a week. consistency is good, but burnout isn’t worth the risk.

I hope this helps! I’ve only been studying the language “seriously” for about a year now, so I know I still have a lot to learn, but these are the habits and resources that have managed to keep me interested and focused on a day-to-day basis. :]

[ayearofpike]

The Starlight Crystal

Pocket Books, 1996 195 pages, 49 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-55028-4 LOC: CPB Box no. 327 (Stored at Landover) OCLC: 34074707 Released February 1, 1996 (per B&N)

Paige Christian knew she was going on the anthropologist’s starship that would use near-lightspeed travel to jump ahead generations. But that didn’t stop her from falling in love before she left. It’s that love that keeps her going — through ship problems, interstellar war, the end of the universe itself — because of a promise she made. She can’t stop and won’t stop until she gets there, because Paige’s love exceeds the boundaries of space and time.

That one-paragraph summary sounds existential and metaphorical, but actually Pike is being painfully literal with these devices. It’s maybe the first hard sci-fi he’s given us since The Tachyon Web (which, by the way, would be re-released a year after this one). And now that I look back on what I’ve read, for someone who named himself after a Star Trek character, Pike hasn’t really done much in the hard-SF realm. The aforementioned two, Eternal Enemy (the second half, at least), maybe See You Later and The Visitor (both of which probably have too much spirituality and mysticism to qualify, even if there are spaceships) and The Star Group coming up (maybe, let’s see — I don’t remember it at all). Interesting how half of that output comes during the Spooksville years. Maybe he had enough supernatural horror going on in the kidlit division and needed to drop some science on teens to balance it.

We’ve seen this title crop up a couple of times before. It’s Mark’s video game in See You Later, and Shari Cooper wrote a short story with this title as the bulk of Remember Me 3. (I feel like it might be in another one, but I don’t want to dig through this whole blog for it.) This story has more in common with the latter than the former — vindictive aliens who only want to wipe out humanity, a universal presence that we are invited to join — but it does take Paige (as Mark indicates the size of his game) “to the ends of the known universe” (SYL, 10). In more ways than one. But let me not get too far ahead of the recap.

At any rate, I liked this one more than I remembered, and then I remembered liking it back when it was released. Yeah, it’s kinda sappy — one girl’s love pushes her farther than any human has ever dreamed of going! — but it hit me at the perfect time, having just started college and being a romantic in general and trying to figure out my own relationship status. Isn’t it worth it to pursue true love across the distance, when the reward upon reunion will be so sweet? The truth is that for me it wasn’t actually true love at the time, but the idea of it, the concept of sharing my life with one who could share my heart forever. But don’t try to tell eighteen-year-old me that; I wasn’t ready to grasp the difference between loving the idea of being in love and loving an actual person I wanted to spend time with. I’m not sure Paige does either, but maybe that’s why it resonated with me then.

Let’s jump into the recap and you can decide for yourself. It starts the way so many early Pike first-person novels started, with an acknowledgement that this tale is being written or told after the events we’re about to see. And again, the narrator conveniently forgets this frame as soon as she starts telling the story. In fact, the only place this has been fully effective was Remember Me, because Shari never forgot she was telling a story from the end. Ultimately I think what it’s there for is to impress upon us the enormous span of Paige’s life (nine billion years!) and the vastness of her experience, but it’s less foreshadowing and more straight up telling (and in some ways, misleading).

Oh, I should mention before we get too deep: the protagonist of this story is named Paige Christian. The book itself is dedicated to Paige Christian. I can’t find any evidence that Pike named his character for a real person, but it wouldn’t be that weird. Like, look back at The Midnight Club, and how he said it was inspired by a storytelling group at a hospital, and how specific he was about his main character’s origins and ethnicity when he’d never really done that before. That’s a clear case of trying to respect and honor a source. It’s not really that big of a step to just using their name.

So anyway, Paige kicks off her story by talking about the day she met her true love. She was coming out of a library and met some weird lady wearing sunglasses but who otherwise seemed familiar, who suggested Paige go check out the pond in the park across the street. When she gets there, a dude suddenly emerges from the water. This is Tem, and Paige feels an instant and inexplicable connection to him, as he does to her. Unfortunately, they’ve only got a week together, as Paige is set to blast off with her dad, the captain of the study vessel. So they promise to exchange letters once a month for the rest of their lives, which for Paige sucks because she’s gonna be writing to a dead dude before a year is passed for her.

So she gets on the ship and works in the gardens and writes her letters, but quickly starts to regret her choice. She asks her father to please stop and take her back to Earth, which ... have you ever tried to get a bureaucrat to listen? He can’t compromise the mission for one person’s feelings, even if that one person is his daughter. Plus, this has been a problem for him before: he was captaining another ship where the engine went haywire and they had to abort the mission then. So obviously he wants to have a successful one, never mind that it will throw a wrench into his daughter’s true love for a dude she knew all of one week. What I’m saying is I’m having a hard time sympathizing with Paige right now.

They get through their time dilation, spending two weeks at a speed sufficient to observe 200 years passing on Earth. Which: I don’t actually know how this would work. When the engines are on, they can’t receive transmissions. When they get to their target speed (99%+ the speed of light) and are coasting, wouldn’t they be going TOO FAST to receive transmissions? Let’s gloss over that and get to the important part: the attack! Yes, Earth is attacked and destroyed just as they are starting to decelerate. These alien warships have the technology to keep up with Paige’s ship at its high speed, and they catch it and send a boarding party. Paige’s dad plans to blow up the ship so that they can take out the alien commander (like in Shari’s story), but she (the commander) kills him before he can trigger the explosion and takes Paige hostage.

However, the guard who is supposed to take Paige to their ship instead takes her to the engine room, where he says he has a power source that will accelerate their ship away from the attackers. He climbs down and inserts a green crystal into the power core, upon which he is killed by his captain. She levels her weapon at Paige, but the ship’s first officer cuts her down before she can fire. Then they check their instruments, and sure enough: the alien warships are gone, and their ship is infinitely approaching the speed of light, and their engine can’t produce the power required to slow them down, to the point where they will simply outlive the universe. (I’m also not sure that this is factually possible, but I don’t care to do the math.)

It’s time for Paige to write another letter to Tem, but she doesn’t see the point. (We’ll learn in a little bit that he only wrote to her for five years.) She’s talking about it with her friend in the garden, when all of a sudden her friend is ... possessed? a channel? At any rate, she starts talking from a larger group consciousness that wants humanity to unify with it, to drop its illusions of desire so that it can truly find love and joy. Sound familiar? This is the primary tenet of the Eastern religion that Pike loves to scatter around his stories, or at least his version of it. But they also say that there is another ship of humans nearby, one that this crew will have to assist in decelerating so that they can then start a new human colony. The new captain is adamant that there’s no way there could be another ship of humans, which, like ... fucker, there’s been 200 years of progress on Earth since you left, you seriously disbelieve they could have made ANOTHER spaceship?

But anyway, they scan for it, and they find it, and then the presence comes back and tells them how to manipulate their technology to slow down and dock with this other ship. Specifically, they tell the scientists to clone the dead alien and have Paige interact with it, and then she will activate its genetic memories and remember herself. (More greatest hits!) So they go through the contortions to put a cloning womb in a shuttle fired at a slightly lower velocity and recapture it after enough time has passed for the clone to be an adult. (Time out: if there are shuttles on this ship, why couldn’t Paige just have taken one back to Earth instead of trying to get the captain to scrub the whole mission?) Under the guidance of the other, Paige takes the alien’s hands and concentrates on the connection between hate and love (yep, it’s back) and suddenly knows how to make the green crystals that will help control their engine. Along with a whole host of genetic manipulation techniques that will come in handy later.

Meanwhile, this universal presence is trying to teach the humans how to become one with it. It talks about understanding the difference between truth and illusion, and about the importance of love. But it won’t tell them the rest until after they recover the other ship. It turns out to be a colony in extended hibernation (with the propulsion end mysteriously missing) and check it out! Tem got on! Huzzah! Only he’s not waking up. In fact, out of more than 20,000 colonists, only two didn’t survive: Tem and one other woman. He death-cheated on Paige, that bastard!

But so the upshot is that Paige still isn’t satisfied, but her desire for this physical love with one human person that she can no longer have is getting in the way of her ability to achieve otherness. They’ve come back into real time now (this is the nine billion years she spoke of at the beginning), and they’re planning to colonize the dying Earth and live it out, but Paige wants to bury Tem first. Only he sits up and starts talking to her once they’re on the surface. Of course it’s the universal consciousness channeling through his body, and it tells her that everything is destined even though we’re not supposed to feel like it, and her destiny isn’t over yet. Paige is supposed to get back on the ship, empty it out, and take off with more green crystals, wait out a cycle of death and rebirth in the entire universe, and then come back to Earth the way she left it the first time.

So she does.

So if she went on and watched the universe start over, a span of who knows how long, why at the beginning did she say she’d been alive nine billion years? It’s never addressed! Let’s move on.

Her first thought, upon returning to Earth, is to break the cycle, to say fuck you to destiny and keep herself from having to suffer. So she gets a gun and some sunglasses and finds herself outside the library. But she can’t pull the trigger. Instead, she directs herself to the pond, just as before. Then, six months later, she goes to the pond, where Tem is diving again, and she befriends him and tries to start a relationship, all the while hoping that he won’t give up on Paige-on-the-ship for hiding-older-Paige-on-Earth. And he doesn’t. So she tells him something that only they could possibly know, a promise that she whispered to him on a deserted beach before she got on the ship. And now he knows that even though she’s got a different name and is older than she’s supposed to be, she’s back for him.

But Paige also knows that she’s got another responsibility. An awesome and terrible one. And it goes along with the genetic memory thing from earlier — how could she remember what the aliens knew unless somewhere along the line they had a gene in common? In fact: it’s hers. Part of her cycling around through a new universe was so that she would know that humanity needed a calamity to kick them forward toward the universal consciousness. And so she genetically creates the aliens. But that’s not all! She clones herself and Tem, in her own womb, and then when they all get on the colony ship and drop into hibernation she sets herself to wake up early so she can do what needs to be done. First, she disconnects the propulsion end of the colony ship and shoots it off into space to evolve its “aliens.” Then she wakes her children and joins hands with her daughter, who is actually her, and gives her shared consciousness. (No, she hasn’t accomplished unity, because it’s still just her and not the universe.) She can’t make her son into her partner, so he’ll always just be her brother ... another cockblock. But she does put them into a shuttle bound back for Earth, and then kills off this iteration of Tem and herself, because it is necessary for her growth.

A lot of tragedy going on here! Don’t worry — even though this is the end of the numbered chapters, it’s not the end of Paige’s story. As soon as she’s an adult, she and Tem enlist in the space army to try to track down and kill the menace of the aliens (which didn’t exist yet, but remember she already knows it’s coming). She uses her billions of years of smarts to work her way into command of a fighter, and then puts it into position to be captured by the aliens. But she’s got a radio in her pocket that basically EMP-bombs the aliens’ genetic code and kills them all. Then they fly the alien ship back to where Paige knows their home planet is (the one she sent them to in the first place) (and yes, she needed an alien ship to make it through their defenses undetected) and plants a bomb made of green crystals on the surface, one strong enough to destroy the planet itself. She intends to set it off herself, but surprise! Tem stowed away in her shuttle, and here he cuts off his foot so that she can’t make him leave, so that he’ll save her life and be the one to perish when the alien planet explodes.

Obviously this is the end of Paige’s career in the military, as well as the end of her hanging on to a love that wasn’t ever supposed to be. She finds a home with a primitive people on a distant planet, where she learns to weave rugs with such clarity and scope that the local shaman asks for a meeting. To get there, Paige has to hike for six days, each day overcoming another step on the journey to universal oneness. When she gets to the elder’s house, no one is there but a ten-year-old kid, who slowly reveals himself to be the elder, one with the universe, and tells Paige that she’s almost there if she will just accept it. And she starts to feel it, more strongly than ever before, strongly enough that she does finally believe him. When she leaves, the wind kicks up the surrounding dust, which forms into the shape of Tem, and they leave the physical realm hand in hand, together in love at last.

I know, it’s pretty sappy. But The Starlight Crystal is a solid synthesis of everything I liked about Pike’s early years, brought back with the skill (and, yes, some of the tropes) he’d develop over a decade of writing. It’s the love story I liked about the earlier lonely sci-fi novels, enough mysticality from the later stuff to make it feel more heavy and more real, and it ties together better than a lot of his other recent work. Maybe the math doesn’t hold up, but the feeling of want, of love, of a need to belong, does.

[leeeovitate]

April 22,2020 3:23AM: It was not intended but this ended up becoming my high school memoir.

I sifted through my old journals. I have been obsessed with notebooks and pens back then, maybe a little bit until now. You see I wanted to be an artist. At least 5 of them were filled with songs and rubbish from cover to cover.I remember the first song I wrote way back in 2007 or 2008. It was called “Putting Traces” and the first I ever played was for my grandmother on her birthday. I played a video of it I recorded with my sister at her dinner party. I don’t think she appreciated it or maybe it just wasn’t any good but she was polite about it. It was called “Thank you for everything”. My first songs notebook was a tinee tiny one with the Eiffel Tower in black on the cover and silver on every page. Then I got obsessed with buying every journal that looks cute or has music related designs or the ones with London and Paris or other European countries that I would love to visit. Then I bought every pen to my liking and spent my lunch money on paperbacks. I was basically a resident at National Bookstore or the stationery section of every mall. I scanned them all tonight, those journals. I forgot about some songs but when I read the line it comes like a flashback to me. That is why I kept writing. It immortalizes the moment. When I play that song, I feel like the emotions turn into concrete and I could go back when I want to feel it again. I was so sure of myself in the songs I wrote before. I knew what I wanted and that was to make music. Maybe I had that dream of being magically sent a record deal. I wanted to have a world tour before 18 but the world was never in my favor. I remember setting a deadline and counting down like Lena did on Beautiful Chaos. I think I also set it on 100 days but nothing happened.

High school is the best years of my life. I remember one of my friends borrowing my songs journal and told me all my titles sounded nice. I have one friend who writes fiction, legit ones and we would talk after class until our fetch arrives and then we’d talk more on the telephone when we get home. I don’t have that in medschool. One time, our teacher made us do a school project. It was to write to a novel incorporating our topics on math class. Epic, I know. I planned it out alright, written everything with a plot but I never finished it and ended up rushing for the deadline. I won’t ever forget that. I loved doing it so much. My fiction writer friend, she ended up writing a sequel for the story she submitted as a math project. Then I also read some of the stories my classmates made. I felt surrounded by talented people and it felt really good. Then in English class, junior year we were required to have a green journal and have at least 3 entries per week. It could be a diary entry, poem, essay, sketch, whatever you like. We also had drama class. I remember saying the lines “The cat sat on the mat.... etc” with different emotions. I freaking nailed it. I loved it so much. The we were also asked to advertise a specific product we made up by pairs. Ours was a perfume and I played a fairy. The nicknamed me “Mama Fairy Tree Rapunzel Country Girl”. I had really long hair and used to braid it. Then I played guitar singing country songs. We also assigned ourselves to greek mythology characters, mine was Gaea. I was also quite tall back then and they say my limbs were long so I was like a tree with roots to the earth and that is where they all came from. We had to write a play for our final project. I was “musical director” and I was not good at my job but I freaking enjoyed it so much.

The senior year we had lit classics and we just have the best teacher on mythology and poetry. Wont ever forget him reprimanding me for reading “statue” wrong. Freshman year, we have 2-hour PE classes and the last hour was spent however we wanted. We would play and sometimes we would just sit around our teacher’s cassette player singing along to our favorite songs while the wind is blowing at the topmost floor of our high school building. Oh what I would do to go back. There was a time when I chose a ribbon as prop for gymnastics practical exam and danced to Avril Lavigne’s “Freak Out Let It Go”. I hated individual stage work but it was something we all had to do and my high school crowd were not mean. I used to choreograph dance routines, unbelievable if you see me now but yes, I remember when I did that. I would do it all over again. I have that one friend, the least I expected of all, who got into kpop. It was epic.

When we are feeling lost, our CLE teacher taugh us to open the bible at a random page and read those two sheets spread open. Whatever we have bothering us, God’s answer are within those pages and it is up to us how to interpret it. I think it also became a project like we were meant to do it everyday for a month or something. She collected money for a journal but it was never delivered though. I have no idea what happened. We also made a promise to meet in March 2020 or 2021 as a class but I think everyone forgot about it or are just too busy, these days. In high school, we made so many films too. Man it was great. You probably could already tell how much I enjoy acting and the I have this friend who is a really awesome video editor.

We also had the best advance chemistry and advance physics teachers. One time at the physics lab, I was busy reading my some Paulo Coehlo I did not notice that I got called in class. That was epic. My teacher threatened to confiscate my book, thank God she didnt. My only argument was “This is not a pocket book, Ms. Violeta.” Our statistics teacher, freshman year who entered the congregation of nuns kept saying “K” in class. It was really funny, my friend and I tallied the number of times she said it until we ran out of scratch paper. Would you believe that the highest grade I got in high school was in Geometry and the lowest I got was in Calculus? Lol I turned in an unfinished Calculus final exam because my tummy was upset but my teacher won’t accept it. I could not tell him what I was feeling at the time so I shaded the letter C in every item and I kind of flunked the exam. I was not that frustrated though. I was never the grade conscious type.

There is this cafe we frequented back then, It was called “Book Latte” and we got membership cards so we could rent books and chill in secluded spots. The place was really fancy but not that wide. Pizza Hut on the same mall became “our spot” with someone I used to consider one of my best friends. One of our friend’s became our go to for schoolworks and shooting videos or movie marathon. In math class again we had to do a song adaptation with video. We did a remix but Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade will always remind me of that. It goes “because tonight will be the night that I will study math over again don’t make me change my mind”. There was a competition in relation to Buwan ng Wika or our Foundation day every august. For the first 2 years of high school it was song adaptation and for the juniors and seniors it was song composition. For the first year, we did Awit Ng Kabataan by Rivermaya and my author/video editor friend wrote the lyrics. I think we skipped on sophomore year. I was not yet comfortable with exposing my songwriting in general at the time. I struggle with confidence issues until now. They assigned me for our junior year. I did it on guitar and piano. I had piano lessons when I was 9 but I did not appreciate it until years after. Our Environmental Science teacher who used to be in a band helped us out abit and they were rushing with the deadline for the song, I kind of backed off. My clubmate did it instead. Senior year, Had the song done early and we got first place. I was truly grateful.

I joined Guitaristas club freshman year. We were assigned into tutor-tutee. I was a tutee of course. I was assigned to someone who was like the great guitar player who was in a band and I was crushing on. He was so nice and he taught me guitar. I wonder if he still remembers me though. I don’t think he’ll recognize when we see eachother on the street. The the club changed it’s name to Tokata club and I spent two years there. We once played Back to December as a band on family day. The guy on drums is someone I was crushing on. I nicknamed him Orange because he told us about Battaglia delle Aranche, not sure if I remember that correctly. The past years I hated waking up early. Most often I’m late for class that they made me class monitor for like 2 years or so. I hated staying at home and I would wake up early. Some days I get to school at about sunrise and he would be there too. That was how we became really good friends and I became close to his younger brother too. My senior year, Speakers zone. It was a new club and it was accidentally not included in our new club ballot sheets. I think they accidentally printed out the old ones from last year. Our english teacher told us about it and only like 7 or 8 of us joined. All from our class. Every monday morning, we had to do a news report after flag ceremony. We were assigned sports new, weather, current affairs, celebrity, etc. It scared the shit out of me, stage fright and shit. I wanted to get over that so I forced myself to audition for our Literary Musical contest, newscasting category and got picked but I lost. I talk really fast and my nerves get the best of me. I was so scared, I wanted to chicken out minutes before the contest. I wanted to walk away from the stage instead of towards it.

We also had monthly trips and my favorite was doing grocery shopping the afternoon before with my groupmates. We assigned to prepare meals and took turns to cook. We went to islands, camps and other educational sites. It was so fun. Although I could not bloody swim and some days I feel sad because of being away from home. I missed 2 trips and forever hating my parents for it. I know they were just concerned but I missed out on alot. It was heartbreaking. I think it was because on our first trip, we climbed a mountain and stayed at a beach and I asked my parents to come over because my chest was aching but turns out I just needed rest. I don’t think I went home with them though or maybe I did, I kind of forgot. I stayed and missed the team building activities but I got to watch the games. Second trip, I missed. They talked about ghost soldiers and stuff. Third trip, we had to swim from one island to another which I couldn’t so I used a canoe, sort of. My mom accompanied us that time, she helped out with cooking and some other things. We stayed for 2 nights and one of my friend’s mom visited us too. Fourth trip, I think it’s that another one I missed. One time, we thought we discovered dinosaur remains, yeah our imagination were that wild. Some of us went fishing and the rest of us stayed at the Marine Biology site. We played ins and one of us tripped on a huge rock which was shaped like a dinosaur’s head. Then we started digging and then we talked about the islands around us making up stories about it. That night, we all slept at the rooftop and had a shadow show. Then we saw shooting stars. One unforgettable experience I had was getting lost in the mountains and getting help from NPAs because they freaking had rifles. It was raining and should have be frightening but at the time, it was more fun than scary and they brought us safe and sound to our campsite. I had a nightmare that night but I loved literally sleeping beneath the stars. I forgot how many trip we went to in total but I am thankful for each and every single one of them

It is funny how I went from a kid with all the big dreams to who I am today.

[aes-k]

Speechless Speaking 2.0

Characters mentioned: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, Kim Taehyung

Words: 2.1K

Summary: Min Yoongi makes his first friend at Seoul High School.

“Jungkook!” he heard a voice call from across the cafeteria.  He recognized the voice anywhere, it was low and boomed off the walls of any room even if he whispered.

Kim Taehyung.

He rolled his eyes as he set his sandwich and lemonade on the lunch table as he joined his three friends Jimin, Namjoon, and Taehyung as he did every day.  He began to eat like he hadn’t for days, trying to muster up in his mind how exactly to tell his friends he would have to house the new kid and take him with him everywhere he went.  They were pretty accepting, but Jungkook had a difficult time imagining how Yoongi would even feel being stuck in a group of people who do nothing but talk all day.

He just had to be deaf, he thought.

Mentally, he wanted to slap himself for thinking such a selfish thing, but he really had no idea how he was going to take on this newfound responsibility.  He doesn’t even know anything about Yoongi except for his name and his condition.  Could he talk?  What were his interests?  How has he communicated with others in the past?

Jungkook was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a sharp pain in his own hand, taking a bite of his sandwich that was no longer there.

“What’s gotten into you, today?” Namjoon asked with concern and a raised eyebrow.

“He did a stupid thing,” Jimin intruded, choking immediately on his food from the look he received from Jungkook.

“I did not!  What I did was a very nice and generous thing...” he trailed off, losing confidence with each word that left his tongue.

“What was it?” Taehyung asked, resting his chin on his palm and arched a brow with curiosity.

“He volunteered to take in the new kid for exempted hours from Rotary for the rest of the year,” Jimin replied.

“It wasn’t for that reason.  I’ll have you know I’m in that club because I actualy want to help people!” Jungkook defended.

“Wait, wait,” Namjoon interrupted, “you mean the new student as in Min Yoongi the new student?”

“Yeah...” Jungkook sighed, averting his attention to avoid the awkward stares from his friends.

Sure it wasn’t normal to take in a complete stranger, but Jungkook loved to help people.  It was in his nature to give to the less fortunate. 

The world was always uneasy because no one saw all people on Earth as equals.  Someone who worked in a supermarket was less than someone who was a CEO of an insurance company, who was less than a wealthy celebrity.  People shot one another because skin color suddenly determined how human you were, and those who worked for the government thought they were above the law.  

Jungkook, however, strived for a world where everyone would be on level ground.  He came from a rather wealthy family, but he didn’t see himself as anything better than a beggar on the corner of the street in the middle of a big city.  He always gave things he was lucky to have to those who would have sacrificed anything to be in his shoes, and genuinely felt that was the first step to changing the world, whether it just be him or everyone had joined the cause, someone out there deserved to feel just as important as anyone else.

“Jungkook, you do know Min Yoongi is deaf, right?” Namjoon asked, “How are you planning on communicating with him?  You don’t even know sign language.”

“I’m not great at mouthing words, either, but I was planning on just using writing until we can get established on something more practical,” he shrugged.

“Well, I know a little bit, if you need help, let me know,” Namjoon offered, getting a smile from the younger as a way of thanking him.

The bell soon dismissed them for the fifteen minute break before their next class where students mostly gathered in their class hallways and chatted amongst themselves, so Jungkook took this as his opportunity to find Yoongi and break the news.  He could already feel his palms begin to sweat, but he knew that if anything, Yoongi would be just as nervous to talk to him.

Nerves begin to build up as he turns the corner to the senior hallway, deciding to stop to his locker and write his words on a sticky note to give to Yoongi in case the conversation doesn’t go smoothly, but just as he closes his locker and begins towards locker 148 in a brisk pace, he bumps into another student, knocking the both of them directly to the ground.

He winces as he gets up, only to realize he bumped into none other than Min Yoongi himself.

How ironic.

Jungkook froze, staring at the smaller boy in front of him, who looked anything but pleased by the sudden interaction, not knowing what to say to him or how to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry, Yoongi,” Jungkook said a little louder than normal, mouthing his words as careful as possible.  Searching for anything in his brown orbs.

Yoongi tilted his head in confusion, trying to decipher what Jungkook had just said, but instead shook his head, pointing to his ear with a shrug and a frown on his face.

“I said I’m sorry...” Jungkook attempted again, drawing a sigh from Yoongi in frustration.

Yoongi set his books back onto the floor and brushed a piece of his minty green locks from his face as he took a deep breath, signing Jungkook that he couldn’t understand what he was trying to say, but Jungkook sighed in defeat, glancing to Namjoon for help.

Jungkook motioned for him to show what he said to Namjoon, hoping he would have any idea of what he was trying to say.

This is going to be harder than I thought.

“He said that he can’t understand what you were saying,” Namjoon explained.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“What were you telling him?” he asked, folding his arms while Yoongi patiently waited.

“I wanted to tell him I was sorry for running into him like that,” Jungkook flashed Yoongi a half smile, but wasn’t returned one.

“Alright,” Namjoon responded, signing ‘He said sorry’ to Yoongi.  It wasn’t as elaborate as it should have been and sounded quite rude in his opinion, but it would have to do for the time being.

Yoongi smiled, showing his gums and rested a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, showing his forgiveness for the action.

Jungkook bowed in respect and picked Yoongi’s books up for him, ripping a page out of his own notebook and writing a short memo to Yoongi and set it on the top of his books.

‘I’m sorry about that, I don’t know sign language.  Meet me in the library at 1:30′ it read and Yoongi nodded, walking away into the sea of students, disappearing due to his small stature.

Jungkook waited in the center of the library in a red, clearly-worn bean bag chair with a notebook in hand and a black pen tucked behind his ear as he waited for Yoongi’s arrival.  He had shown up about ten minutes early out of anxiousness, trying to muster up how to explain Yoongi’s new living and school situation or how to take Yoongi’s reaction, whether it be good or bad.

He sighed and bit off the cap of the pen, chewing on it as he wrote his explanation to Yoongi, wording as best he could without overwhelming him.  

Lost in his words, he didn’t notice the light tap on his shoulder as he finished up, until he saw the beat-up black converse on the floor by his own feet, looking up to lock eyes with Yoongi once again, causing him to blush.

He smiled and waved, motioning him to sit across from him as he capped his pen and handed the notebook over to Yoongi to read.

‘Yoongi,

Hello, my name is Jeon Jungkook, I’m in your grade.  I think I’m slightly younger than you, so I’ll call you hyung if you’d like, it’s up to you.  I’m in a lot of clubs and I get good grades, majoring in English (even though I want to do music,’ Yoongi chuckled.

‘one of the specific clubs I am in is the volunteer club, where we basically volunteer to help people and make the community a better place to live in.  Well, recently, our leader has taken notice that your being new makes it difficult for anyone to really show you around or make friends, and has asked one of the members to take it upon themselves to show you around and be your friend, stuff like that,

‘I volunteered because you seem like a kind and unique person that I’d like to get to know.  I know it’s so sudden, but they also wanted me to invite you into my home and live with me, but that doesn’t have to happen if you don’t want it to.  I know we already established that we don’t communicate very well together since I don’t know sign language, but I trust that you know how to read so I think this is the best and most efficient way until I can learn some sign language from both you and some from my friend Namjoon, who helped us earlier.

‘Please let me know what you think or what you’d like to choose.  I’d love to be able to be your friend and get to know you, hyung/Yoongi-hyung/Yoongi. 

Please circle Yes   or   No’

Jungkook twiddled his thumbs as he watched Yoongi read his letter, searching for any reaction whatsoever that he would agree or he wasn’t offended in any way, but the boy was as emotionless as a rock.  Jungkook was normally good at being able to read people, but Yoongi was a never-ending guessing game.

Yoongi lifted his attention from the notebook and reached into his pocket for a highlighter, marking the paper and adding in some writing with a pencil, handing it back to Jungkook with a small smile on his face as he clicked the pen closed and crossed his feet.

The raven scanned the paper, catching what was marked.

‘Yoongi,

Hello, my name is Jeon Jungkook, I’m in your grade.  I think I’m slightly younger than you, so I’ll call you hyung if you’d like, it’s up to you.  I’m in a lot of clubs and I get good grades, majoring in English (even though I want to do music,

‘one of the specific clubs I am in is the volunteer club, where we basically volunteer to help people and make the community a better place to live in.  Well, recently, our leader has taken notice that your being new makes it difficult for anyone to really show you around or make friends, and has asked one of the members to take it upon themselves to show you around and be your friend, stuff like that,

‘I volunteered because you seem like a kind and unique person that I’d like to get to know.  I know it’s so sudden, but they also wanted me to invite you into my home and live with me, but that doesn’t have to happen if you don’t want it to.  I know we already established that we don’t communicate very well together since I don’t know sign language, but I trust that you know how to read so I think this is the best and most efficient way until I can learn some sign language from both you and some from my friend Namjoon, who helped us earlier.

‘Please let me know what you think or what you’d like to choose.  I’d love to be able to be your friend and get to know you, hyung/Yoongi-hyung/Yoongi.   Any is fine, Jungkook-ah :)

Please circle Yes   or   No’

Jungkook flashed his bunny-like smile to the smaller as he closed his notebook and pulled out his phone, typing quicker than either of them could write.

‘Meet me at the main doors after school and I can show you your new home :)’

Yoongi nodded, running towards the brunette and hugging him, shocking Jungkook slightly, but soon wrapping his hands around him in return with blush creeping back along his cheeks.

He then glanced up at the clock, noticing it was time to go to the next class and let go of the hug, bowing Yoongi a goodbye and waved as he picked up his things, but as he turned to walk away, he slightly jumped at the sudden low-pitched voice.

“See you later, Jungkook-ah.”

[daniellethamasa]

Hey all, Dani here.

Obviously, with National Library Week running from April 19-25, I am in the mood to talk about books and libraries and bookstores…and so that translates into wanting to talk about books that are written about books, or about libraries, or about bookstores. So for today’s recommendations posts, I want to toss out some titles that feature these elements as a major part of the story.

A majority of these are books that I have read, but there are a few that I just know are about books and the places we find books, so I’m still going to recommend them.

Let’s start with books where bookstores play a big part.

I’ve read 3/5 of these and I’m planning on picking up the other two over the next week. There’s probably other books where characters work at bookstores, or where the bookstore is an important setting. Actually, I think Well Met by Jen DeLuca could technically qualify here because there is a decent amount of time spent at the bookshop where the main character gets a job…but I’m not including it because the primary setting is at the festival grounds. But there’s just something so nice about having books that feature so many other amazing books within their pages. It’s like books recommending other books to you. I love it.

Bookshops are a very special brand of magic, and right now I am desperately missing my trips to my local bookstores. I am already planning a trip to The Book Loft of German Village, Barnes & Noble, and Half-Price Books once businesses are able to open again. Until then I am placing online orders. But it just isn’t the same. I enjoy scanning the shelves and discovering books I didn’t know about before seeing them there in front of me. It’s wonderful. Right now I’m thinking about buying another Malarmarkus Mystery Box from the Book Loft; I already got one and they picked out some pretty cool books for me. I’ve already posted my book haul photo on my Twitter, and it will be in my monthly wrap-up as well.

Also, I have not yet reviewed any of these books, but I will be doing so fairy soon.

Okay, now let’s talk about books about books

Clearly I have a few more books to mention that are about books. A couple contemporary, a couple historical, and a couple middle grade fantastical stories. It’s pretty great, and I can definitely say that these have been wonderful and powerful reads. From The Librarian of Auschwitz which could have gone in this section or the library section, to Suggested Reading which is about censorship, and The Bromance Book Club, which is about more casual about mentioning specific book titles, all of these books highlight the wonder that is books. We watch the characters learn things, and we learn alongside them. We get to learn about events to try and restrict or remove books. We get to learn about bringing people and items from books to the real world or characters from the real world traveling to fictional worlds.

I do have some reviews up for these books, so I’ll go ahead and include those links here:  The Librarian of Auschwitz by Antonio Iturbe, Suggested Reading by Dave Connis, Story Thieves by James Riley, The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams, The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde.

Finally, it’s time to talk about books about libraries.

Three of the books on this section about libraries and librarians are memoir/non-fiction. Wow. I’m not going to recommend any of the textbooks I had to read in library school, though; they were pretty dry reading.  I’ve already reviewed a couple of these books, I have a couple more reviews scheduled for next week, and a couple more I’m reading this weekend so I can hopefully review them next week during National Library Week as well. And I guess since I’m recommending The Librarians and The Lost Lamp, I should probably also recommend the trilogy of “The Librarian” made for TV movies as well as the complete four season show “The Librarians.”

I have a few reviews coming soon and I have a couple that I need to re-read before I review them, but here’s the ones I’ve reviewed on my blog so far: The Library of the Unwritten by A.J. Hackwith, Magus of the Library Volume 1 by Mitsu Izumi, The Librarians and the Pot of Gold by Greg Cox.

Wow, this was a fun time talking about books where books, libraries, and bookstores are a primary feature. Do you have any other books to recommend here, because I would love to hear about them. Let’s talk about books, bookstores, and libraries in the comments. Thanks for stopping by, and I’ll be back soon with more bookish content.

Recommendations: Books About Books Hey all, Dani here. Obviously, with National Library Week running from April 19-25, I am in the mood to talk about books and libraries and bookstores...and so that translates into wanting to talk about books that are written about books, or about libraries, or about bookstores.

[coralstarfishtrash-blog]

Lolita

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[ds4design]

Charting the Galaxy: An Interview with Star Wars: Galactic Maps Illustrator Tim McDonagh

Growing up on Tatooine, Luke Skywalker often looked out at the stars and wished for a life of adventure out there. If he had gotten a copy of the new book, Star Wars: Galactic Maps – An Illustrated Atlas of the Star Wars Universe, he might have gotten an even bigger appetite for the different worlds and star systems of the galaxy far, far away — and maybe wouldn’t have been so dazed when he saw the patrons inside the Mos Eisley cantina. Available now, Galactic Maps is not your typical modern atlas, full of maps with plenty of boundaries and dots and exact locations; it’s more similar to map collections of the past, when the world was not as well-traveled, and empty and unknown spaces were filled in with hand-drawn illustrations depicting the historical events, landforms, flora, and fauna of a place.

Originally developed and released by Egmont UK as Star Wars: Galactic Atlas in the United Kingdom, Ireland, and South Africa in November, this lovingly detailed 80-page book brings together the characters, landmarks, creatures, and geography and presents it in an in-universe fashion, as if put together by an artist inspired by travelers’ tales. Plus, this atlas brings together information from across the Star Wars saga, including The Force Awakens, The Clone Wars, Star Wars Rebels, and the newest Star Wars film, Rogue One. StarWars.com reached out by e-mail to the real-world illustrator of Galactic Maps, Tim McDonagh, and learned how this treasury came to be.

StarWars.com: Galactic Maps is not your typical Star Wars reference book. What makes this book stand out?

Tim McDonagh: I think what makes the book stand out is seeing different scenes from the films, comics, books, and TV series all together on the pages. I think it gives the events of the Star Wars universe more of a sense of place, since there is so much there and it’s easy to get overwhelmed!

StarWars.com: The maps you’ve illustrated combine the places of Star Wars with a lot of the characters and happenings at those places — how did this come about?

Tim McDonagh: Well, a lot of those choices were down to the editor, Emil Fortune. His extensive knowledge and research of the Star Wars universe was crucial in putting the book together. We knew we wanted it to be a book of maps that depicted different planets, so then after that it was more of a process of going through all of the material and working out what planets might be the most interesting to illustrate and what events in the universe held the most weight.

StarWars.com: What is the process you went through when developing a spread?

Tim McDonagh: I would start with the planet name and a list of 15 or so events that occurred there and then start penciling out all of the vignettes for the planets individually. For example, in the case of Naboo, vignettes like Queen Padmé Amidala, Doctor Nuvo Vindi, Boss Nass, etc., would all be drawn out separately about three or four times the size that they appear on the page. Then we would collate them on a spread and move them around until it made sense to us. After the layout of everything had been agreed, then I would ink all of those up, scan them in, and color them digitally. Then it was a matter of filling in the terrain and adding in any extra bits that I thought might help each spread along. So for Naboo, that was drawing a lot of trees and green areas, taking a look at the kind of architecture that was associated with Naboo and anything else that. There was lots of tweaking and moving objects around because of the scale of the project and all of the information in the book. I had been a huge Star Wars fan before taking this job on, though. I loved the films, books, and computer games growing up, and so I already had an advantage from that point of view.

StarWars.com: How did the collaborative process work between you and writer Emil Fortune?

Tim McDonagh: Emil was absolutely fantastic to work with, along with Egmont’s in-house designer Richie Hull, whom I couldn’t have managed any of it without! Emil was great at determining which events happened on what planets and at what time, which is a pretty difficult task, even for the most dedicated Star Wars fans. He would provide me with a detailed list of scenes that should be depicted on each planet and where they appeared in the canon, whether that be in an episode of Star Wars Rebels or in the Battlefront game. Aside from those specific scenes though, they were very open to my interpretation of whatever planet we were working on and I was given plenty of freedom to play around with the look and feel of each individual planet.

StarWars.com: Galactic Maps collects a lot of information about the significant events of a place, pulling from the films, television programs, and other sources. How was it determined what information to include?

Tim McDonagh: That was largely down to Emil and the editorial team. I suppose there are planets that spring to mind which have such a strong visual identity already that it’s almost a given that they are going to be included, like Tatooine, Hoth, and Endor’s moon. But then there are others which we still know little about, like Dagobah and Kashyyyk, which were fun to do because you start to realize your own interpretation of that place, whilst at the same time trying to stay true to what information there is out there. There are lots of major events that happen throughout the Star Wars universe and so I suppose we just wanted to be sure to include everything that had a significant impact on the universe. I think what I like almost as much as those though are the small details of each planet that gives them a sense of place, like the womp rats on Tatooine, Teedos on Jakku, or Gungan warriors on Naboo.

StarWars.com: The atlas is more than just planetary maps, but also includes star charts, an illustrated timeline, bios of important characters and a bestiary — what are some of the fun things about creating these different sections?

Tim McDonagh: As a massive Star Wars fan myself, just being able to create and see an overview of this huge galaxy was really interesting. As an illustrator though, I really enjoyed drawing up the character profiles that appear in the beginning of the book. All of the characters are all so fun to draw and having them all appear on one page together seemed like a cool idea. The only problem was choosing only 48, there could have been hundreds more!

StarWars.com: What was it like to work on the map of Jedha, a planet that is a key setting for Rogue One?

Tim McDonagh: That was the last map we worked on because of the limited information available about Jedha at the time of starting the book. As we progressed though, we were slowly given more information about it. Each little bit seemed to be more exciting than the last! We were sent concept art and screen shots from Rogue One, so I started to get a real sense of the place from those. We were also given a lot of character shoots of the residents of Jedha, and when you are given designs and concept art that looks that good, then it makes my job quite easy, really. I think what I love most about Jedha are the eerie mounts that the stormtroopers patrol on. The costumes for the pilgrims of Jedha look amazing, too!

StarWars.com: Tell us about your background and what advice might you give to aspiring illustrators?

Tim McDonagh: I graduated from the University of Westminster just over six years ago and was soon picked up by my agents Handsome Frank, who still represent me today. So I have been working as a freelance illustrator since then on a broad range of projects. What I usually say to aspiring illustrators is, be sure to create work that you love and that you enjoy working on. The work and clients will come later on, but if you enjoy what you are working on then your journey as an illustrator won’t be a chore, it will be fun!

StarWars.com: Lastly, are there any little inside jokes or Easter Eggs that you worked into Galactic Maps that you’d like to mention?

Tim McDonagh: There are a few in there! When I was younger, I was obsessed with the book and Nintendo 64 game Shadows of the Empire, which takes place between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. As a little nod to that, I may have included Dash Rendar’s ship the Outrider on the Hoth spread, as I remember that being one of my favorite levels on the game — having to escape Echo Base. There are a few more hidden in there, too, that I won’t spoil!

James Floyd is a writer, photographer, and organizer of puzzle adventures. He’s a bit tall for a Jawa. His current project is Wear Star Wars Every Day, a fundraising effort for a refugee aid organization. You can follow him on Twitter at @jamesjawa or check out his articles on Club Jade and Big Shiny Robot.

TAGS: Books, Galactic Maps, Star Wars Books