#and accidentally tried closing a gallon of water with the wrong top

[how-gross]

7:32pm — September 11th, 2024

Huh that was weird

[builder051]

It don’t take a word

James slags home from campus, feeling as though he’s pushing the car instead of driving it.  Steve’s outdated sedan is reliable, but today the front wheel drive is bumpy over the layers of ice and grit on the streets, and he isn’t a fan of the number it’s doing on his aching stomach.  

Aching.  Every part of him is aching.  The hand of his prosthesis is clamped stiffly around the ten-o-clock side of the steering wheel, sending pins and needles up into what remains of his shoulder.  His head throbs every time he pauses at a red light, then hits the gas again.  James tries to tap the pedals slowly, carefully, but he speeds a little in his eagerness to get home.  

He parks crookedly, but doesn’t care.  James slings his bag over his good arm, wincing as it thumps against his back with a decidedly unsympathetic and entirely too heavy pat.  “Hmph,” he exhales, swallowing frantically lest he lose control of his insides right there in the parking lot.  James supposes it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world; they already have the reputation of being the apartment with those damned coeds.  Being the one who left an unsavory gift beside a sloppily angled car isn’t much worse.  Plus, it would probably freeze overnight.  

Still, the bathroom is better.  James runs his tongue along the backs of his teeth, scraping away the thick, slightly bilious saliva.  He spits, snuffs, and takes off at what he hopes is a reasonable pace toward the gate and the stairs.  

James takes them two at a time until his legs start to shake.  Then he slows and sticks a little closer to the railing.  He’s watching his sneakers ascend the steps, kicking them out slightly to remove the snow sticking to the toes, when suddenly a door opens two inches from his nose.  

James stiffens, and his mind immediately goes blank.  Fight or flight takes over.  Even sick, he can dredge up the energy to crush whatever opponent has the gall to take him on.  

A laundry basket precedes the dark figure, and James goes for that first.  It’s probably meant to be a distraction, potentially containing some sort of device.  Maybe an explosive.  Or maybe it’s just a decoy.  

Socks and blue scrubs go tumbling, and someone loudly shouts, “Hey!”

James grinds his teeth.  He isn’t sure if he says something or not.  If he does, it probably starts with “Fuck.”

He goes for the head next.  James’s knuckles come into contact with the jaw, and something wet drips down his fingers.  Spit, probably.  Maybe blood.  

“Hey, man,” the opponent says through his fat lip, “I didn’t do it, ok?”  He backs up as far as he can.  The laundry room door has swung shut, and he plasters himself against it, his hands held roughly at the level of his ears.

“What?”  James realizes he’s out of breath.  This guy’s a civilian?  Is he a suicide bomber?  James looks him up and down as best he can in the tight space.  The man is slender and dressed in running tights and an equally close-fitting top.  No backpack, nowhere to put an explosive.  The laundry basket was probably the best bet for a hidden threat, but it seems clear.  Since it’s all toppled halfway down a flight of stairs, James doubts there’s a bomb tied up in a pair of boxer briefs.  

“Yeah.  I didn’t do it.”  The guy gives James an impressive side eye.  “What’s got up your crawl, man?”

“I, um,”  James stutters.  He wants to apologize, to explain, but he needs to get out of there.  He opens his mouth again to say something, maybe something about the war, the PTSD, but all that comes out is a nauseous hiccup.  

“You ok?”  The man James just socked in the jaw now leans in closer, offering what looks like it’s about to be a comforting pat on the arm.  

“No, I, I,” James looks wildly around.  “I’m really sorry,” he mutters, then he turns on his heel and takes off.

Speed comes easily again, but only for the next half-flight of steps.  James has just enough time to register the unfairness of it, the fact that he can see their front door from where he’s forced to stop and brace against the wall as what feels like every ounce of strength, as well as several gallons of liquefied snot, exit his body through his open mouth.

“Jesus fuck.”  James drags his fist across his lips, but he just bows forward and vomits again.  Strings of mucous drip down his chin, and the sourness of bile in his throat makes his eyes water.  Tear tracks burn their way across his cheeks before becoming lost in his stubble.

James swears again, watching his sick flow from one stair to the one below it.  It’s slow, like lava, and, as he thought before, will probably freeze over before the night is through. Then at least it won’t smell.  And he’s a floor and a half above the mystery neighbor’s spilled laundry.

James moves away from the mess as quickly as he can, dashing up the last few steps and tinkering with the doorknob.  He’s too shaky to handle keys, but it doesn’t matter.  The door’s unlocked.  

That means Tasha must be home.  Now that she’s free of self-bolting dorm doors, she rarely locks up.  James usually gives her a lecture when he comes tome to an easily penetrable front door, but today he’s ready to write her a thank-you note.  As soon as he stops trembling head to toe, that is.

James drops his bag as soon as he’s inside and starts in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Jamie?”  Tasha sits curled in the recliner, the lamp on like a spotlight over her head, making her auburn curls glow red-gold.  Her brow wrinkles as she focuses in on him.  “What’s wrong with you?”

James wants to say ‘nothing.’  ‘Mind your own business.’  ‘Do your homework,’ or something similarly big brotherly that will get her to lave him alone.  When he opens his mouth, though, he practically feels his Adam’s apple bob straight up into his mouth, bouncing off the uvula and bringing with it a rush of more guck.  Instead, he makes a guttural noise and shakes his head.

He fully expects Tasha to shrug and go back to her whatever-she-does when she sits alone in the apartment.  Read.  Meditate.  But instead, she hops to her feet and rushes at him.  At least that’s how it feels to James, who is so barely on his feet that he may as well be moving backward.  

“Huh?” he groans.

“I said, what’s wrong with you?”  Tasha grabs him by the shoulders.  

James flinches slightly.  Tasha loosens her grip and moves to gently massage the angry skin at the edge of the prosthesis.  It barely makes a ridge under his clothing, but she knows exactly where to find it.  

“Pfft,” James makes a negligible sound whilst trying to clear some of the awful taste growing again at the back of his mouth.  “Just,” he sniffs.  “Sick.  Shook up.”  He slowly lets his forehead come to rest on Tasha’s shoulder, her ear a warm comfort pressing against the top of his head.  

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”  James swallows a gag.

“Jamie.”  He knows Tasha’s giving him a look.

“Got shook up,” he admits through tight lips.  “Then got sick.”

“Going to again.”

“No,” James protests, though by now he’s sucking down bile.

“Wasn’t a question.”  Tasha walks him sideways toward the bathroom, expertly negotiating them through the doorway like a pair of ballroom dancers at Blackpool.  

She throws him down in front of the toilet with the same amount of gentle grace, then hooks her arms through his to unzip his jacket and help him get comfortable.  

James sets his cheek on the toilet seat and looks up at her with glassy eyes.

“Gonna be in here for a long night?” Tasha asks, using a washcloth to sponge a dribble of vomit from the front of his coat.

“Hope not,” James says into the toilet bowl.  “But probably.”

“What spooked you?”

James sighs and gives in to a heave before he answers.  He doesn’t want to talk about it, but she deserves an answer.  A few words, at least.

“Somebody coming out a door too fast.  In my face.”  James hacks and gags himself accidentally.  “Hit a little, uh, too close to, well, uh...”

“Far away from home?” Tasha finishes

“Yeah, that.”

James drags his wrist across his lips and gives her a tremulous smile.  “You don’t have to stay, you know.  Go do your...whatever you were doing.  Steve’ll be home soon.”

“Nah, I’m good.”  Tasha settles on the side of the bathtub.  “Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t aspirate on your own puke.”

“Nah, it’s only you who do that,” James pokes at her before he leans over the toilet for another wave.

“Only when I drink!” Tasha protests.  “Give me some credit, here.”

“Ok, ok.  You’re a fine nurse.”  James sits back on his heels and flushes the toilet.  “And not always a horrible patient.”

Tasha grins. “Feeling better?”

James smiles weakly back.  “A little.  Still bad, but the edge is gone.  I think I need to sleep the rest off.”

“Let me re-diagnose you in the morning?  Find out if it’s cold or flu?” Tasha offers.

“Sure.  You and Steve can tag-team it, if you want.”  

James shakes his head at Tasha’s evil expression and heads to the bedroom for clean clothes and warm blankets.  Nothing is solved, by any means, but like he told Tasha, he feels a little better.  

And all it takes is a little sister. 

[daveleddenwriter]

The Tortured Artist

The Tortured Artist

By Dave Ledden

For as long as I could remember I wanted to be an artist. My earliest memory is of my three year old self finger painting on the driver side door of my dad’s vintage Mustang. His face went blood red with rage and tears built up in his eyes when he caught me. I can still hear my mom’s words, vividly. “Calm down! She’s just a baby, she didn’t know what she was doing!” Needless to say he kept me well the hell away from his car for the rest of my childhood.

  For years I was the top art student at every school I went to. I continued painting, sketching, sculpting etc..  I got marks that were excellent, so I began studying art at college. I moved into a small place with my friend, Sasha. Well, at least I did for my first year of college. She dropped the philosophy course that she was doing and planned on moving closer to her home and her boyfriend. I was relieved to have some privacy, It meant I could have more space in the flat to work on my creations and she wouldn’t be here to force me to not stay up all night working. I was secretly excited the day she left.

 “I hope you won’t be lonely here by yourself.” Sasha said, putting clothes in a suitcase.

“Maybe a little, but I’ll manage.” I said, trying not to grin. “So you’re moving in with your boyfriend?” I never referred to him by his name because to this day, I’ve no clue what it is.

“No. We’ll move in eventually, but I’m not ready yet.” She replied. I nodded. Sasha then took a peak at the picture I was currently drawing. It was a ink sketch of a  cemetery with Tim Burton style headstones and trees.

“That looks darker than your other pictures” She said.

“I thought I’d experiment with a new style.”

“What has you experimenting?”

“You’re meant to experiment in college.” I replied, smirking.

Sasha laughed, then she became serious. “I hope you take care of yourself when I’m gone.”

“Yes mom.” I replied, sarcastically.

She continued  “Sleep, bathe, eat regularly.”

“Breath, blink.” I joked.

 We chatted until she had to leave. I helped her carry her luggage to her car. We finished loading her bags into the car. She hugged me.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” Sasha said.

“Okay.” I replied.

“Marian, please promise you won’t work yourself to death. Get some sleep and don’t shut yourself off from the world.”

I looked into her  eyes and saw that she was genuinely concerned. I didn’t want to promise her that, I knew if I did I’d be lying to her, but I didn’t want her to worry about me. So for what felt like an infinite amount of time, I couldn’t give any form of response. I stood quiet and expressionless. Sasha waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me back to attention.

“Marian, promise me!” Sasha said, with a stern look on her face.

“Ok…” I said, weakly.

***

I slammed back four cups of coffee and two cans of monster that night. After finishing my graveyard sketch earlier in the day, I had a new project to start working on. I was enjoying trying out the gothic art style and I wanted to make a sculpture in it. It was a doll, a girl with a white face and a long black dress and long black hair. The dress was made with some spare cloth I had and the hair was made with wool. I made her thin arms with some silver metal. Her face was also made with metal, but I painted it white. It took close to four hours to finish the doll and the sun was coming up. I looked at the sculpture with satisfaction and placed it on the shelf facing my bed. I finally crashed and went to sleep.

I woke in the afternoon, groggy and tired. I was blinded by the sun rays that invaded my bedroom through the curtain-less window. I rubbed my eyes until they adjusted to the light. When they did, I looked at my shelf, wanting to see the doll. My shelf was vacant and I was immediately wide awake from shock! I shot out of bed and stood frantically glancing around my room! I calmed down when I saw the doll lying face down on the carpet, about a foot away from the front of the shelf. The doll didn’t look damaged when I picked it up to inspect it closely. I was relieved because I wanted to work on a new piece tonight instead of repairing this one.

***

I created at least one art piece a night, sometimes more than one. I had a two week long break from college and I spent all of that time locked up in my apartment. I slept most of the day and worked nearly all night, every night. I never admitted this to Sasha whenever she would call. My groggy voice would always almost give me away, but I was able to reassure her any time she would become suspicious. My routine was working with little to no hassle… until halfway through the first week of the mid-term.

I heard strange noises at first. It sounded as if an animal was scratching the inside of the vents. I naturally assumed I had mice and I was quite angry that I’d have to leave my apartment to get traps or poison. I didn’t deal with the problem right away. I didn’t want to waste time. I had started a new sculpture that was gonna be far more complicated than any other ones that came before it, and thus required a lot of time to complete. It was a life sized self sculpture made from clay. The porcelain coloured skinned statue stood at 5ft 7’, and was clearly too large to fit into the kiln that I keep in the kitchen. My plan instead was to go over it with a hair dryer until it was bone dry. I got started and continued to work diligently on it. I neglected so much sleep, sometimes working the whole night through. When I actually did sleep it was only for short naps. I was beginning to hallucinate from exhaustion. A couple of times since the college break, I thought I saw my doll walk around my bedroom, through the cover of my eye. When I turned my head around to get a better look, she was always on her shelf where I left her, stood as he’d always been.

I only ate packaged foods that I didn’t have to waste precious time cooking or preparing. I also made sure that there was a cup of water next to me at all times so I didn’t accidentally kill myself with dehydration. I occasionally drank from the wrong cup resulting in me swallowing what I can assume to be a gallon of paint tainted water, in the course of only a couple of days. It was worth it. As long as I finished my piece, I didn’t mind having to withstand a bit of poison. Sasha rang a few times while I was focusing on the sculpture, so I didn’t respond. I was far too busy for guilt.

The scratching from the vents didn’t stop, in fact it had gotten worse. One night while I was making progress on statue me, so much It seemed that I would have it finished a few of days earlier than scheduled. The mice in the vent were going crazy! What was odd was the scratching didn’t sound like toe nails on metal, it sounded like metal on metal. It was pretty late, 03:35 A.M. according to my phone so I assumed I was just hallucinating again. I was too happy with my work to care so I powered through. All was going well until maybe a half an hour later. The scratching stopped for five minutes. I sat in total silence, glad that the mice were giving me some peace and quiet. Suddenly another noise emanated from the vent, but it wasn’t scratching. The sound that I heard this time, I can only describe as being demonic laughter. It didn’t sound like it came from a person. I’d never heard anything like it before, which is why I’m having difficulty describing it. It was high pitched, like a cartoon rodent, but it also sounded like metallic rattling!

My heart was racing and I was physically shaking. The laughter ended and when I calmed down I decided to not only get to sleep there and then, I also planned on taking Sasha’s advice to give up neglecting sleep in favour of my art, at last, before I completely lost my mind. I eventually did fall asleep after a while, but it didn't last long. I was forcefully woken up by what sounded like a fog horn. I sat up in my bed, terrified, “Ya know, I’m starting to think that it isn’t mice.” I said out loud to myself before exhaustion took over me once again. I was woken up again. This time by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. I sprang up in my bed again and switched the lights on. My eyes were drawn to my almost finished self sculpture. It was now headless. The wires that were inside the sculpture, acting like a skeleton were sticking out of the top of the neck where the head used to be. They looked like they had been chewed through by an animal. Statue me’s head was on its side on the floor, looking at me face to face. I looked into its hazel eyes, there was a crack running through its left pupil and iris. The head was scalped. Shards of black clay, that was the sculptures hair was scattered all over the carpet.

I almost broke down crying at the sight of it. I then noticed her, the doll stood at the foot of my bed, facing me. She had a still poker face, but it felt like she was mocking me. I garnered the courage to speak up.

“You broke it, didn’t you?!” I sounded  small, like a frightened child. The doll remained stationary and gave no response.

“Why did you do it? That’s so mean.” I realised how petulant I sounded but I was trying to keep my voice from trembling. Yet again, no response. The doll just stared at me with its dead eyes. She was really pissing me off at this point and I lost it and screamed at her.

“Why are you doing this to me?! What are you doing in the vents?!” I was still shaking, but this time it was a blend of both fear and anger. I tried my best to maintain a straight face. The doll and I stared at each other down like we were in a duel, waiting to see who will draw their pistol first. Neither of us made a move.

“What am I doing?” I thought, letting the ridiculousness of the situation sink in. I looked away from the doll and hung my head for a split second. When I did, I felt something being thrown at my forehead. The projectile landed on my lap and I saw it clearly. The doll threw a balled up sock at me.

“You piece of…!” I stopped myself mid-sentence by biting my lip. I snatched the doll up and ripped it’s arms off with my bare hands. Her face remained expressionless, so I pulled off her head and crushed it. I then pulled her wool hear out of her dented metal scalp, and tore her fabric dress into scraps of rag. I bunched up her remains into a ball and tossed it in the trash, leaving my apartment for the first time in almost a week.

 I got back inside and collapsed to my knees in front of my wrecked sculpture and cried. I tried to calm myself down but I couldn’t hold back. All of my anger, fear, misery, got the better of me and what made it all worse was the fact that I was so tired! Two solid streams of tears flowed down my cheeks and I started cradling the severed head of statue me. I finished sobbing and sat at the edge of my bed. I told myself that I could repair the sculpture another time, but for now all I wanted to do was chill. I was too afraid to go back to sleep. I planned on sitting in my well lit bedroom and waiting for morning to come. It’s too bad that that didn’t happen.

I woke up lying across my bed on top of the covers. I was blinded by the light and I could hear a now familiar and horrifying metallic scratching. I looked at the floor and saw the doll standing before me, fully intact as if she never been damaged at all. She stood next to the sculpture of me. She had broken off both of the sculptures arms and the head was so crushed if was practically powder. “Die!” I roared, chucking my phone at the doll. I missed. I finally saw the doll move, it was lightning fast but moved as if it was on the verge of breaking to pieces. It preformed a strange side flip and my phone passed right by it. She then hissed at me and sprinted away. I didn’t see where she went.

After that night she didn’t leave. I could hear scurrying around the vents every night from then onwards. She would laugh at me and make sure that I never got a wink of sleep. She mostly hid herself. Only letting me see her so that she can force me to watch her destroy all my art. She loved when I was afraid and crying, she was having way too much fun making me her pet. She wouldn’t even let me leave my apartment and she snapped my phone in half. I was eventually rescued after a few weeks of this torment.

I heard a bang at my front door,

“Marian, dear, open up! you’re scaring me!” Said a female voice.

I was so relieved that Sasha had come for me, but I didn’t even have the energy to give a verbal reply let alone answer the door.

“Marian, you’re class said that they haven’t seen you in a month and you haven’t answered the phone for much longer than that. Let me in, I’m worried about you!” Said Sasha.

After an hour the police broke my door down and they and Sasha saw me lying on the floor. I was thin, pale, bony, dehydrated and babbling incoherently to myself. “What happen!?” Screamed Sasha. I really wanted to have the mental capacity to form a response, but couldn’t.

FIN

[floral-and-fine]

Full on Love pt.1

Thor x plus size/chubby fem. reader 

a/n: super fluffy. mentions of alcohol and getting drunk. Part 2 I’m hoping to add some smut, we’ll see. My first chubby/curvy/plus size reader fic! Also I prefer long hair Thor (I’m still sad over his new haircut)

Summary: The reader is new to the team. Thor can’t keep his eyes off of her.  

“Good morning Thor!”

“Good morning Lady y/n, you are looking lovely as always.”

“Thank you.” you said, while continuing to mix the batter you were preparing.

You shook your head, smiling. He was always such a sweetheart. You had just got out of bed, wearing only a tank top and cute sleeping shorts. You weren’t sure what Thor’s idea of lovely is, but you thanked him anyway.

“I was about to make french toast, would you like some?” you asked, as he rummaged through the fridge.  

Thor peeked his head over the refrigerator door, “I would!" 

He closed the fridge with his arms full, carrying a carton of eggs, gallon of milk, coffee creamer, bottle of syrup, and orange juice.

This had become a typical part of your day, while most of the Avengers woke up early, you and Thor were always the first ones in the kitchen. 

You were still finding your place within the group, and so far Thor had been the most welcoming. You tried being yourself around the rest of the group, but it had been easiest with Thor. Your attitude lately has been more shy and conservative. You had been feeling slightly self conscious for not being as fit as the rest of the team. You were soft and curvy, and if it hadn’t been for your powers you doubted you would be in this situation. 

"Thor, hun, could you get the coffee started?”

You knew that eventually, the others would gradually join up in the kitchen, so you always made enough for everyone. 

He nodded, getting the coffee beans down from the cupboard while eating a Pop-Tart.

“Would you like the other piece?” Thor offered, handing you the Pop-Tart left in the silver wrapper. 

“I don’t want to spoil my appetite, how about I just eat half…” you broke off half and started eating it while getting the bread ready.

Soon after the kitchen smelled like cinnamon and coffee. 

“Here, for you,” Thor announced proudly, setting a cup of coffee next to you. It was prepared just the way you like it.

You took a quick sip, “mmmm…That’s perfect, thank you.”

Thor grinned ear to ear when you placed a plate of french toast in front of him. Immediately, he drowned them in syrup.

Shortly, the rest of the Avengers appeared. 

“Smells delicious in here!” Rhodey commented, helping himself to some orange juice. He started working out with Natasha and Clint now that his legs were doing better.

Still groggy Tony headed straight to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup, and drinking it silently in the corner.

Steve wandered over to help you make enough french toast ready for everyone. While the rest of the group found places to sit.

When everyone else was all set, you made your self a plate.

“I’m going to take my breakfast upstairs and get ready for the rest of the day,” you said, feeling like you were showing too much skin in just your pjs. 

As you headed out of the kitchen, you were oblivious to Thor, whose focus was on watching you leave the room in those short shorts, instead of finishing his breakfast. He stared at your figure until it disappeared from view.

Over the last few weeks everyone in the compound couldn’t help but notice Thor’s longing gaze at your direction, especially his interest on your posterior. 

The way his eyes would linger on your hips as you sauntered out of a room, wasn’t very discrete to anyone around. 

Most of his teammates were kind enough to ignore his not so subtle way of checking you out. The exception was Tony, who one day caught Thor staring at your ass for a long duration of time as you were bent over, and now constantly made sly remarks about it. 

Fortunately, neither Thor or you understood what he was implying. However, the rest of the team were exhausted of hearing all the various ways he could say ass in a conversation. 

Now that Tony had his caffeine he joined the rest of the group. “I hope everyone remembers that tonight is Avenger’s movie night, therefore I expect to see all your asses there.”

“Whose turn is it to pick the movie?” Wanda asked.

“Mine!” Sam said, “and we’re watching Ghostbusters 2!”

“I believe it is my turn for snacks,” Thor commented.

“Make sure someone else goes with you,” Clint suggested. “The last time all you bought was Pop-tarts and coffee.”

“Perhaps I’ll invite lady Y/n…" 

Thor got up and put his dishes in the sink, then headed to your room.

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

You pushed the cart along as Thor picked out various snacks and drinks.

"Lady Y/n, are these good?” he asked holding up a package of Redvines.

“Definitely, those are a classic movie candy.”

Thor grabbed several packages from the shelf dropping them into the cart. 

As you headed down the next aisle you spotted your favorite drink, Yoo-Hoo, on the bottom shelf. As you bent over, Thor’s attention was drawn to you. 

An elderly lady, coughed, as Thor stared at you. She managed to get his attention, when he looked over at her, she raised eyebrows and shook her head, making Thor feel like a child caught stealing.

He could never understand why mortals were so uptight when it came to things involving love and lust, especially considering how short their lives are.

“Hey, hun, we should get some popcorn. Movie night just isn’t right without any.”

“Of course,” he replied pushing the cart for you now that it was loaded down with junk food.

After checking out Thor looked over at you, staring with a serious expression.

“You ok?”

He blinked a few times, after realizing that you were addressing him.

“Ah yes, I’m fine. I wanted to thank you for coming with me.”

You gave him a quick hug, “No problem, Thor. It was fun.”

--------

Boxes of pizza, bowls of popcorn, several types of candies and drinks were scattered around.

All Avengers were spread out in living room. Movie night was all set. 

Sam seemed pretty excited getting this chance to share one of his favorite movies.

Thor sat next to you on the couch.

Engrossed in the movie you picked up your drink without looking. The moment it touched your lips you realized that you picked up the wrong glass.

The taste was strong and bitter, and the small sip burned your throat as it went down.

Sputtering, you set the glass back down, “Sorry Thor, I accidentally took a drink out of your glass." 

Thor chuckled, "That’s quite alright,” then he paused for moment, only to laugh harder. “Hopefully, the effects won’t be too strong for you.”

“E-Effects?” you stammered, worried. 

Thor patted your head with his large hand, “Nothing so drastic, you just might be more intoxicated than you planned… Or have ever been.”

Your eyes went wide, just a sip of whatever he was drinking could do that. You were an honest, bubbly, and cuddly drunk, and fearing that you would embarrass yourself you decided to call it a night.

But as soon as you stood up, your legs felt like jelly. You collapsed back on the couch, giggly to yourself. 

Your face started to feel warm as the buzz took over.

“You were right… I feel so tipsy right now!” you half whispered to Thor. You started to play with his hair absentmindedly, no longer entertained by the movie.

You sighed while observing him as he watched the screen. He didn’t seem to mind your odd behavior at the moment.

It was nice being able to look at him closely. His hair was so soft and golden and he had the most blue eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You’re really pretty,” you muttered, “…like soo pretty.”

He smiled at you in response, and you smiled as wide as you could back.

“I think your quite pretty as well.”

“Psshhht,” you rolled your eyes and playfully hit his arm, “I think pretty is stretching it, I’m cute at best.”

Thor’s face went serious, like he was considering his next words very carefully, in a low voice he responds, “You are beyond cute and pretty, if I had to choose a single word to describe you… It would be ravishing. Your body represents a banquet for my eyes to feast upon every time I look at you.”

In your drunk state it took a while to process his words, but once they sunk in you felt your eyes begin to water and a grin spread across your face.

“Thor… That was the sweetest thing anyone has said ever!" 

You groaned, realizing you were speaking louder than you meant to. "I’m way too drunk for this right now.”

You covered your face with your hands, feeling guilty about talking during a movie.

“How about I escort you up stairs, hm?”

“That would be nice,” you said accepting Thor’s offer.

Without asking, Thor immediately picked you up off the couch, “Lady Y/n is not feeling well, please excuse us.”

You buried your face in his chest out of embarrassment, why’d he have to tell everyone.

The group replied with nods and 'okays’ as they continued to watch the movie.

—-

You woke up the next morning feeling like you had been hit by a bus. Everything was sore and hurting. Even opening your eyes stung in your dark bedroom.

Your head started to pound harder as you sat up in bed. This was by far the worst hang over you’ve ever felt.

On the night stand, was a large bottle of Tylenol, a bottle of water, and a note from Thor.

'Dearest,

I hear these tablets help with any pain you might be enduring in the morning. 

-Thor’

You smiled to yourself as you read the note, he really was the absolute sweetest.

[littlerawrs-blog1]

“Starry Night” by Dale Valerio

Banners flap in a vigorous manner, the buntings of the stand fell and some of the customers flinched and tumbled. "Ah! These days, the wind currents are very strong.." as Kotetsu, the owner of the Ramen stand, sighed in digress. Kotetsu got out of the stand, picked up the bunting and brought it inside. He sat in a lanky wooden stool and let out a deep sigh.

"Two ramen and a soda here sir!" a customer demanded.

"One for me sir, add onions and don't put too much water please." another one added.

"Hey! Speed it up! I've been waiting for an eternity." Kotetsu sits still and became oblivious, his ears we're flooded with complaints. Kotetsu remained oblivious and ignored the uproar that is made by his rampaging customers.

"Take this!", a customer splashed a glass full of water and flung several noodle strands to Kotetsu. The customers left, leaving behind several shattered plates and a mess to be reckoned with.

The night is going deep and the deafening silence entered the room.

Still, he remained nescient, frozen and unfazed. Blankly staring into the night sky, his vision became blurry and his thoughts drowned his consciousness.

"I think it's better, for me to vanish.." he murmured manically.

Kotetsu grabbed the butcher's knife besides the cutting board and laid his wrist on the counter. As the cold knife made contact with his wrist, his pupils were magnified and he lets out a deep sigh.

"My life's useless after all.." preparing the sheer cold knife to slide on his wrist, his breathing became more rapid and his body continuously trembles. Kotetsu's eyes are all dull and convinced to end his own life, but all of a sudden a loud shout broke the silence from Kotetsu's head.

"HEY! Stop that!" a mysterious silhouette ran towards the stand.

"Oh it's you, Heather.." Kotetsu quickly drew the butcher's knife into a drawer full of memento from his mother and a petal doused with blood.

"Hey! Are you ill or what? The radish is right over there! Your arms are not radishes, tsk tsk" seriously aforementioned by Heather. Kotetsu looked down and giggled silently.

"You clearly don't have a single clue of what I am about to do, do you?"

"Are you kidding me? Of course you're going to make ramen, but you've mistaken your arm as a radish.." debated by Heather

"No you idiot!" yelled by Kotetsu as he smacks a fresh long radish to his face.

"Ouch! You don't have to go so harsh! Geez, How about we just call it a night and lets go into the nearest bar in the city?" stated by Heather as he pulls Kotetsu's arms.

"But.. Ugh.. Fine! But I won't use any money for this! You'll have to pay for my drinks.. Hehe"

"Gee, Anything to make my friend happy!"

The two went on to the nearest bar and enjoyed the rest of the night. The full moon with the glowing blue-black clouds creates an ensemble on the sky, teasing the shadows upon the surface of the earth. As time runs faster and faster, it was time for Heather and Kotetsu to part ways after some time in the bar.

"Hey! Kotetsu! You sure you don't need company?~" woozily asked by Heather.

"Yes, I'm fine.. You almost drank a gallon of beer my lad, I think you are the one who needs company.."

"No, No~ no"

"You sure? You look like a dog with no concept of direction"

"Dude! I sure know I can walk home! Get lost!"

"Okay, bye then"

Kotetsu walks through the park full of withered cherry blossom trees. The wind blows like it whispers morbid secrets that it never been said before. The full moon is still up and locked it's sight towards Kotetsu, The clouds marched across the sky seeking to block the majestic light of the moon. Yet the moon was luminous and the cloud stays inferior.

The park reeks the smell of cherry blossoms similar to the veil that was used often by his mother. As Kotetsu reminisces his mother, his legs became weak and he decided to sit on the bench for a while.

"Oh mother.. Why do I have to live without you! This curse! This god awful curse! I can't do this!" Kotetsu said with grievous emotion.

"If only I could kill my greedy father who bestowed me this curse, A curse that forbids me to have a reciprocating relationship, If only I could nullify this curse..If- only.." Kotetsu said with a weak and soft voice. His vision became blurry and his eyelids became heavier, he fell asleep without him even knowing it. The rowdy city is far away and so the park can dominate it's silence. The majestic moon still gives off a menacing look upon the earth and the night stays deep, dark and phantasmagorical.

Kotetsu feels his body become warmer as time goes by, little did he know it was already daytime. He tried to confirm this by opening his eyes carefully but at the moment he lifted his eyelids, his eyes were welcomed by the blinding rays of the sun. He tried to block it by putting his hand in front of his eyes, enough to see what was below or beside him at this point.

"Oh I slept here? What the hell?" confusingly said by Kotetsu.

As he looked over to his right, he saw a woman wearing a bright red dress and with daring crimson high heels. He wants to peer at her face but she was facing the opposite direction. Kotetsu's heart pounds faster and gets louder every beat. He slowly approached the woman and at the moment he's about to touch her shoulder, the woman turned over his way and immediately greeted Kotetsu with a joyful smile.

"Oh, hi! I was wondering, are you a homeless?" the woman asked in a sweet voice.

"Uh-Oh, Uh no- I'm just, I accidentally fell asleep here!" muttered by Kotetsu.

"What's your name?"

"K-Kotetsu, H-How about you?"

"Kotetsu? What a nice name! My name's Alohna! Pleased to meet you" Alohna stated as she offered her hand to Kotetsu.

Their hands grabbed tightly with each other and Kotetsu felt Alohna's soft and baby-like skin. It was like paradise being with her, her smile, her voice, all of it was perfect for Kotetsu.

"Sadly, I have to go now, Kotetsu, I was waiting here for a friend but it turns out he didn't come in time, I'd have to pick him up" Alohna said with a disappointed tone.

"Okay, Alohna.. I lo-, Oh I mean good bye then.." nervously said by Kotetsu.

"You're funny haha, I'll go now and you can let go of my hand.."

"Oh sorry, Farewell then, see you soon!"

Kotetsu sweats profusely and his heart continuously beats. He stood up and gazed at the fading silhouette of Alohna.

"This is wrong, I can't fall in love... What if she disappears.. I won't let that happen again" Kotetsu worryingly sighed.

"I have to go to my ramen stand! Oh god! I think I didn't even get the chance to clean the place up!" Kotetsu went straight to the stand and walked with a fast pace.

The time he arrived at the stand, the place was tidy and clean. He slowly approached the stand and saw a note that says: "I cleaned this place up messy hog, sincerely Heather" written in scrambles with scribbles of happy faces. He crumpled the note and smirked hideously.

"It's time for another day!" joyfully cheered by Kotetsu and as he started making ramen he searched for the butcher's knife.

Kotetsu wondered where he left the butcher's knife and searched all throughout the stand. As he pulled the drawer, he saw the butcher's knife along with several memento from his mother. He grabbed one of the framed photographs from the drawer and he puts it on top of the counter. The framed photo contains the picture of his mother and him.

"I miss you, mother" sighed Kotetsu

Kotetsu grabbed one of the swaddled apron from the cabinet below the counter and wore it.

The day has gone by fast and yet again the darkness swallows the cheerful meadows of the surface. The cherry blossom trees remains withered and there are only little to no more leaves attached to it's branches. The moon is at it's full glory again, conquering the night sky, this time clouds were scarce and this led for the moon to dominate the entirety of the heathens. The wind blows vigorously again and the silence of the night is here to visit them again to conform from it's daily routine. The ramen stand was empty and Kotetsu's head was getting flurried with thoughts again.

“Good night, may I interrupt your sightseeing mister?” A mysterious voice emanates from somewhere, a soft modest voice to be exact.

“KOTETSU!” a loud shout follows and Kotetsu slowly recognized who they were.

“Heather? And.. Alohna? Wait you two are friends?” Kotetsu querried.

"Yes, I was supposed to meet her this morning but I was sober this morning, I forgot it HAHAH" Heather exclaimed.

"Oh is that so.. So Alohna you really know this guy?"

"Oh! Ye-"

"OF COURSE YES! You don't believe me, do you? Ahh.. Anyways we knew you were here so we brought beer so we could have fun tonight! Let's go guys!" Heather prepared the bottles of beer and some crackers. The three engaged several conversations and they did some quirky little minigames in between. The moon is at it's focal point again, being in the middle of the night sky and the two except Heather is still awake.

"Hey Alohna! Keep it down, enough of that! You're drunk!" Kotetsu demanded as he lets out a huge yawn. Alohna didn't respond and just glared at Kotetsu.

A rush of thought visits Kotetsu's mind, what if I tell her my feelings now, she wouldn’t notice because she’s drunk.

“Alohna?..”

Alohna obliviously stares at Kotetsu, before Kotetsu’s eyes close he managed to dish out his words properly.

“I- I.. Love.. You..”

Alohna replied but Kotetsu instantly fell asleep and he didn’t get to hear what Alohna responded to.

The three fell into a deep slumber while the moon spotlights the three.

“Kotetsu! Kotetsu!” a voice is yearning to be responded.

Is this Alohna? Then the curse failed to work this time?

As Kotetsu opened his eyes, he was greeted by his friend Heather, waking him up and telling him to clean up, Kotetsu looked in all directions and still didn’t see Alohna.

“Where’s Alohna? Where is she!?” Kotetsu exclaimed.

“Al- Who?! Who’s that?”

“Your friend! The woman that wears a red dress?”

“You’re crazy man! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Kotetsu opened his palm and saw a flower petal doused in blood. The same petal when her mother disappeared.

“I should’ve known”

Story Details(Short, summarized only :’( )

Kotetsu – A guy that has a curse put upon him from his father and this forbids him to engage a mutual love relationship with a girl

Alohna – A charismatic girl that catches the attention of Kotetsu and she has perfect attributes that is liked by Kotetsu

Heather – A confidant of Kotetsu and is intellectually challenged but a loyal and good friend of his. Also a friend of Alohna

Setting:

Japan, Gensokyo(A Made up city of Japan) in 2019, autumn.

[bladesurgence]

panorama.

( this was supposed to just be a writing exercise )

     “Irelia.” Ashe’s voice rises, and she brushes her forearm to point in a direction. Irelia follows it to the edge of a cliff, where the top of a pole erected further down the path has a wire attached to it, traveling down about three hundred feet to the floor of the valley.

     “That is the Giant Basket Ride,” Irelia explains. She’s never ridden, but she’s heard enough stories from some of her guardsmen and women. “Traditionally, couples sit in it and ride from here to the bottom of this hill. There’s a great view of-”

      “Can we ride in it?” Ashe asks, and Irelia can feel her heart drop and rebound inside her chest.

      The last thing Irelia wants to do is refuse a queen’s request, but-

     “Well, we can, it’s just that...”

      “Do you fear what your tradition may suggest?” Ashe’s smile is wide, even without showing teeth. It’s the kind you’d see from someone as they glance off a forty-foot cliff in Shon-Xan, knowing that you’d scream if you fell from that height, just before they take your hand and leap into the ocean.

     “It is a simple ride to the bottom, from what I understand. There’s nothing like this in my culture, so it would be inaccurate to assume anything about me from it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

     Irelia cannot argue against the sound logic, though she thinks that she isn’t the one that Ashe should be convincing.

     “If Your Majesty wishes to ride, then I cannot refuse.”

     “Great!” Ashe walks over to the basket, its walls high enough to protect either of them from accidentally following over, but the space cozy enough that it can only seat two. She sits atop a small wooden bench placed into it, and pats the space next to her. “You aren’t wrong - this really was made for couples.”

     Irelia steps into the basket, her movements slow as if she was treading on a thin layer of ice on a frozen lake. She seats herself, finding that they really have entered close quarters. Her leg brushes up against Ashe’s, though the queen isn’t inconvenienced in the least. In fact, she seems to lean further into Irelia.

     “How does this work?” Ashe asks.

     Irelia looks around for the knot of a rope tied through a hole in the basket. “Supposedly you just loosen this knot, and then the basket will slide along the wire. But...” She peers out the basket, the green and grey landscape of the valley below them.

     Ashe’s brows knit together. “Are you afraid of heights, Irelia?”

     Irelia’s legs twitch. “No, not at all. I just... I did not expect your close company for my first visit here. I expected to visit the basket ride with... well, one of my...”

     Ashe’s mouth parts, and she raises a finger to her chin before closing. “Oh! I didn’t mean to insist.”

     “It’s nothing, Your Majesty. After all, the desire of a guest is more important than my sentiment.” Irelia pulls at the rope, preparing to loosen the knot. “Are you ready?”

     “Ready when you are.” Ashe’s smile returns, and she looks directly at Irelia. The faint sunlight through the cloud twinkles in her eye. Irelia gulps.

     She moves to undo the knot, and the basket lurches before scurrying down the wire. It’s a slow-moving vehicle, as Ionian architects and mages had ensured that the ride would be completely safe for people riding it during the festival, but the rush of traveling through the air, even in something as quaint as a basket, is exhilarating. They can see the snow-capped peaks of Ionia’s mountains in the distance, and the winding shore of Lake Muzumo on their right.

     “Ionia is beautiful,” Ashe murmurs, the tip of her hood waving back and forth in the wind.

     “It is,” Irelia agrees, and shudders when she feels Ashe sit back and lean against her shoulder. Her breath hitches, and she immediately imagines the disapproving glare of the Council’s eyes on her. But there are no elders, nor members of Ashe’s guard, to frown at them this high up. Still, Ashe’s touch has felt like a treasure locked away in a vault. Someone might lay claim to it, but not Irelia. Hell, she’d be the guard protecting it. Having some of the treasure find its way into her palm feels like stealing.

     Perhaps she has stolen a bit from fate, with Lady Luck’s help.

     Irelia wants to touch her back - it would be rude not to reciprocate, wouldn’t it? - so she moves an arm, aiming for the other side of Ashe’s waist. Her progress is slow, as if moving to not disturb her.

     “I am not fragile ice, Captain,” Ashe teases, sliding her waist so that Irelia’s hand moves closer. Her hand pretty much falls into place. Irelia lets out a sigh, a heavy sigh she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Her shoulders feel like they’d been carrying ten gallons of water on a bucket pole.

     The basket glides along, with a steady rustling that reminds Irelia that they’re in motion, and not suspended in the sky. It is a fortunate reminder that the ride will only last three or four minutes. Irelia doesn’t think she can manage sitting like this with Ashe, without her heart pushing her to do more.

     “Are there many rides like this in Ionia?” Ashe asks, her voice a gentle murmur against Irelia’s sleeve.

     Irelia sighs, her fingers daring to move and brush Ashe’s arm, the skin around her elbow. Ashe turns her head to look at her, and smiles. Irelia tries to smile back, but her face feels like wet plaster. It might look more like a wood carving of a kami’s face than an actual smile.

     “Not to my knowledge,” she responds, after a pause. “I feel like this is the only place with a valley and a plateau accommodating enough.”

     “I suppose we’ll have to return here often, don’t you think?” Ashe asks, rising up. Irelia feels her lips press upon her cheek, but it doesn’t feel like that - it feels like she has been buried in snow, but not the snow she’d see in winter. It’s more like the melting snow that she finds hanging in trees on the first days of spring, the ones that drip away to give rise to the first flowers of the new season.

     It feels like a touch that she hasn’t felt since before Zelos left, before the armies of Noxus showed up, and before she was expected to lead Ionia into a future that it had never anticipated.

     Irelia turns towards Ashe, realizing that her face looks mortified, even though her heart is the exact opposite. “I...” Should I kiss her back? Would that be too soon? Is that something I should save for the second basket ride?

     Ashe blinks back at her, her smile slowly fading. “Did you not enjoy that?”

     “I did!” Irelia insists. Her hand climbs its way up Ashe’s back, pulling her closer, and Ashe leans in. She’s very close now. But Irelia’s attention is focused on everywhere but the blue in Ashe’s eyes, and with a stifling dread she notices that the basket is already approaching ground level. They’d have to disembark soon.

     “Oh, we’re already back at the valley?” Ashe asks. “These rides end so soon when you’re having fun,” she adds, and her lips curve into an adorable pout that feels like an arrow of ice has pricked Irelia’s heart.

     They pull away as the people from the festival come into view, and Irelia exhales, fighting down everything she had felt in the basket ride and praying that her composure returns to her face in time.

     “Unfortunately,” Irelia manages. Her throat is drier than the dunes of Shurima.

     “But, if you insist, Your Majesty, we could return any time you want.”

[sirrongirl]

Road Trip to Tahiti

Tuesday, Feb. 19, 2019

Nah - he’s not going skiing. The mountain actually got more than a foot of snow, conditions for skiing are excellent, but conditions for driving up there are not. We opted for a walk around the downtown area. Michelle was right, it’s a very cool town, with kind of a hippy dippy vibe. We walked around the Santa Fe Plaza, visited the Church of St. Francis of Assisi and took some goofy pictures around town. It was cold, but when the sun is out it’s tolerable. With a last stop in the dog friendly Starbucks, we were ready for another day in the car.  About Starbucks -I really don’t prefer their coffee, although Tom does. There is just something about the place I like. Maybe it’s the smell? Mallory suggested I try the citrus defender tea on one of our visits. That’s my go-to drink now. I also like there coffee mugs, although I don’t buy them.  I get anxiety just thinking about collecting them. All the opportunities I have missed in all the places I have been. So it’s probably better I just don’t start. I have one, that Mallory brought me from Bangkok.  At this point in my life I don’t need to collect more “stuff”. When I’m home, I’m busy selling my “stuff” on ebay. Anything that still doesn’t “spark joy’ as Marie Kondo says. 

So where to next? We could drive down to Phoenix and have dinner with Mallory who is there for work. Roswell NM is close, we could go check out the aliens, or head towards Las Vegas? The museum of nuclear energy is where we ended up — and I’m so glad we did. I have never b been a fan of nuclear power. I’ve always worried about the waste product blowing up and destroying the planet. I remember back at Our Lady Queen of Heaven School, as we had air raid drills in the hallway. I also remember worrying about the fact that we didn’t have an underground  bomb shelter near our home on Sirron Street. Buildings use to have  sign on them if they were “official” shelters. I remember once walking from my home to the school building counting the steps to shelter. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that? Back into the dog carrier for Dylan- and into The National Museum of Nuclear Science & History we go. 

Best Western Santa Fa

Downtown Santa Fe

Looking at the models of the bombs I remember our friend Michael Cocken. Michael told me about his “15 minutes of fame” when he accidentally dug up an unexploded bomb in gardening project he was working on with his dear wide Jackie. Mike and Jackie live outside Birmingham, England. We met on a Holland American Cruise of Norway. 

Today we met Ray, a  retired geologist , now a docent.  Ray told us about his experience mining for uranium and working for power plants.  It was fascinating to learn from him that in fact, there is a recycling procedure for most of the waste that results from producing energy. Most of the world is going it, especially Germany, Canada, France, and the Scandinavian countries. China and India are also onboard. It’s not being done in the USA, because President Carter stopped it.  Ray strongly feels that was a mistake. So the situation currently is that we produce radioactive waste, and the US has no good method to dispose of it. Instead of recycling it, we transport it and fight about where to store it. We are missing a huge opportunity for energy, in Ray’s opinion. So what are we to do for energy? As much as I myself would love to rely on solar and wind power — it won’t be enough to power the world  Coal has become a dirty word, and rightly so in my opinion. Oil? Natural Gas? Much smarter minds than mine will have to figure this out.  

We moved on to the exhibits of the bombs.  Models of both ‘fat man” and “little boy’ the bombs that were dropped on Japan were on display. The same B29 bombers that delivered the charge were also parked in the outside yard.  Ray told us a very interesting story about the fact that “little boy ," the bomb dropped on Hiroshima almost wasn’t . The bomb itself was so heavy, the aircraft had to dump fuel in order to fly.  The pilot , Colonel Paul Tibbets,  knew they did not have enough fuel to get back to Tinian Island. Only he and two other crew members knew exactly what kind of weapon they were carrying. Once the bomb was dropped, they made their way to try to land in Okinawa.  When they tried to radio the air base there to advise of their emergency landing - the reply was radio silence. This B29 was a secret aircraft that didn’t exist- and now it was trying to land? Ray tells us when the aircraft actually landed, there were only 7 gallons of fuel left. 

Saying goodbye to Ray, I asked a question I have wondered about. Where is the safest place in the world?  Ray smiled and told me he has though about that as well. The Southern Hemisphere, he says, “has no target so it’s the safest place”. 

I went outside to walk the dog and check out the aircraft. There I met Ed, was wearing a USS Marshall hat. I asked him about his career and he also had a fascinating story for me. Ed was a 20year old serving in 1962 as the carrier headed for Cuba.  I wont go into the whole Cuban crisis, I’m not a history writer. Ed told me it was common for the Russian Submarines to surface off the coast of the USA.  Something about recharging? Americans had no idea the submarine were so close. But the Navy knew they were there. Ed told me that his ship was situated right on top of one of the Russian ships during the blockade. They sat on it like a mother hen as Kennedy and Khrushchev negotiated. Ed and his pals had no idea how tense the situation was, he tells me “it was just another 13 days in the navy” for him. When the situation was resolved, they moved away off the sub.  Ed says the Russian Submarine surfaced and asked for food and water from the US navy.  Russian Sailors appeared on deck and play Dixieland music. Ed says they never did get the food or water.

I looked around at more of the aircraft. I saw the ‘hound dog’ missile  loaded onto one of the planes.  I walked back into to the car humming “you ain’t nothing but a hound dog”. 

Heading out of Albuquerque, we found ourselves in a huge traffic jam on I-40. I checked WAZE, and found out there was an accident ahead. We heard on the radio a car had driven off a bridge ahead and was in the water. Divers were searching for a baby because they found a car seat in the back of the car. The news reported that the driver died in the car, but there wasn’t a baby in the car at the time. 

Although we have had good luck with the Wyndham Collection, there wasn’t much of a dog friendly choice off the highway in Gallup, NM. There were two Days Inn’s in town. One had an indoor pool, hot tub, offered free breakfast. Okay-that could work, I booked it and programmed the GPS. When we arrived, I quickly saw the either the pictures were all wrong, or I had booked the wrong place.  This Days Inn was an old style motel with the individual outside entrances. The pool was outdoors, cold and empty. There were bars on the windows of the lobby. I wasn’t expecting much from Gallup, but this was unacceptable. I imagined the cold it coming through the door that probably wouldn’t seal completely.  I remembered being in Oakland CA with my mother when we delivered that Cadillac way back when I was 13. .  We stayed at a sketchy hotel that night. Mom pushed a chair backwards up against the door for safety.  With a little help from Beth at Wyndham customer service, we were able to cancel the booking. Instead, we found a very comfortable La Quinta in snowy, cold, dreary, dirty Gallup, NM. 

[thehikingviking]

Arc Dome (11,773 ft) from Columbine Campground

Jeff Fischer reached out to me via email asking if I wanted to do a hike with him. We agreed to climb Arc Dome and possibly Mt Jefferson during the fall. Both are ulta prominent peaks in Central Nevada that we’ve had our eyes on. After committing to the first weekend of November, I later planned a trip to Taiwan for a wedding, a hike and work. The trip was scheduled for the weekend before the Nevada trip and I knew I would be jet lagged. Not wanting to bail on my commitment, I warned Jeff of my situation suggesting that I would have low energy and might be too tired to attempt Mt Jefferson the day after Arc Dome. We planned to meet at the Columbine Campground the morning of the hike. At the end of the week Asaka and I drove to the Great Basin where we stopped for dinner in Middlegate. I still had some Taiwan money on me so I stapled 100 NTD (3 USD) to the ceiling.

We then finished the long lonely drive and parked in an open site at Columbine Campground. While parking in the dark, I accidentally bumped into the wooden structure which outlines the camp. I positioned the car in the flattest manner possible then we climbed into the back where we slept that night.

It was very cold the next morning. The gallon of water we left outside froze. We were still under the sheets as we watched Jeff drive by in his pickup truck. After saying our hellos we began up the trail at 8:15am.

We followed the trail through a birch forest for 0.3 miles then turned left at a fork, passing through sage brush up gentle slopes.

The trail then entered a canyon with snow from a previous storm still lingering on the shaded northern flanks.

After two and a half miles we reached the pass at 10,500 ft. We took our first rest along the subsequent descending switchback. 

This 200 ft descent was a surprise to me, but I should have studied the map more closely. Once we began ascending again, sections of the trail became covered with snow and became difficult to follow.

The direction we needed to go was obvious and we never got off route. We reconnected with the trail shortly after.

As we made it to the ridgeline below Cirque Mountain, North Arc Dome came into view.

We would climb this peak first as it was only slightly out of the way. We climbed a short section further until we reached a plateau then followed the top of the ridgeline to the top of North Arc Dome. In retrospect, it would have been faster to just follow the trail and veer off to the peak just for the last quarter mile. To the northeast were alkaline flats of Big Smoky Valley.

To the north was Cirque Mountain further down the ridge.

To the west were the lower Shoshone Mountains.

To the south was Arc Dome.

To the southeast was Toiyabe Dome.

Mt Jefferson stood across the Big Smoky Valley to the east.

Happy to get the bonus peak out of the way, we continued south and reconnected with the trail.

I was dismayed to see a rather large drop still to come. 

The wind started to pick up during this section. It sure was frigid. 

Once at the base of the saddle we began the main course of the hike. The wind continued to pound on us and we weren’t having fun anymore. We were completely exposed on the barren rock.

The trail switch-backed up the mountain for a thousand vertical feet. 

We made it to the top at 12:15pm, 4 hours after departing from the trailhead.

To the south was Mahogany Mountain.

To the east were Toiyabe Dome and Mt Jefferson.

To the north were North Arc Dome and Cirque Mountain.

To the west were the Shoshone Mountains.

To the southwest was endless Wilderness.

We climbed into a wind shelter below the western edge of the summit where we had lunch. It was too cold for any of us to enjoy the view. Before we left, Jeff asked if I could take a photo of him on the summit. When I took my hands out of my gloves to take the shot they almost froze over.

Hoping for a more hospitable climate, we quickly walked down the north face of the summit to the saddle. The wind continued to chill us to the bone.

Once at the saddle, we had an annoying 500 ft climb that took us back up to the plateau next to North Arc Dome. It was a desolate waste land up there.

While the conditions were miserable, I felt I had enough energy to climb one more bonus peak, so Jeff and I left the trail and hiked to the top of Cirque Peak. Asaka was not interested and continued down the trail. This put us back into the biting wind, but bonus peaks are good. To the south was North Arc Come.

To the west we could see a dust storm developing.

To the north was South Toiyabe Peak. The Toiyabe Ridge Trail heads in that direction; maybe one day I will come back for those neglected peaks.

Now it was time to get down into the wind protected canyon. I jogged down the steep slopes until reaching the trail then pushed forward to catch up with Asaka. I followed her footprints through the snow but eventually lost them once they met the trail. I started growing concerned because I expected Asaka to wait for me once out of the wind. There was a spur trail leading to nowhere and I was afraid she might have taken the wrong fork which she has done in the past. A night out here would be fatal, so I went down the spur trail checking for footprints but came back unsure. Jeff and I climbed back up to the 10,500 ft pass but there was still no sign of her.

I hoped with all my heart that she knew the way down, and after hiking further and yelling down the canyon, I eventually got a faint response from her. I was very frustrated that she did this once again. Maybe she will never learn.

Once back at the car I told Jeff that I was done for the weekend. I didn’t want to drive 3 hours to the Mt Jefferson trailhead, I didn’t want to sleep in the car again and I didn’t want to hike anymore. The jet lag combined with the Siberian conditions had me worn out. I later learned I was in the initial stages of catching a cold, as I became sick afterwards. I said goodbye to Jeff and he drove out of the canyon. Asaka and I followed shortly after and 5 minutes into the drive my car started overheating. I punctured my radiator when I hit the wooden structure parking my car the night before. I had no service and Jeff was long gone. With the closest major city over a hundred miles away, it was panic time. All I could do was roll my car downhill to to the Yomba Tribal Council at the intersection of Nevada State Routes 844 and 21. I had a little service here and was barely able to get a hold of Jeff. I told him my situation and he agreed to come back. Once he arrived, we tried putting water in the radiator and driving back to Fallon. On the uphill drive to Ione (population 41) the engine began to overheat quickly and my Jeep showed warning sign after warning sign, but then my temperature gauge dropped back down to cold. I took this as a sign to keep driving uphill, but I really should have parked the car. The engine’s temperature sensor overheated and malfunctioned. In reality the car was continuing to overheat. I made it over the pass and turned off my car to cool it down, just six miles from starting off behind Jeff. When I tried to turn the car on five minutes later it refused to turn on, which was a fail safe mechanism built into the engine. With the car off, I couldn’t even roll the car downhill, so we decided to call AAA. Jeff was a gold member (so was I but I didn’t know at the time) which entitled him to 100 miles of free towing. I checked the distance between my location and Fallon and it was exactly 100 miles. We got a hold of a tow truck but it would take him two hours to arrive since he was in Hawthorne, Nevada. Jeff was starving so we agreed to leave the Jeep and drive to Gabbs, Nevada for dinner. There is one restaurant in town (cash only) and they served us a great meal. We met the tow truck driver here and drove back to the Jeep. We found the car sitting where we left it and our tow truck driver did his best to hook up the Jeep for a tow. He had trouble with this and we spent over an hour waiting in the cold before the Jeep was finally ready.

I offered to ride with the tow truck driver and we listened to an XM radio channel replaying shows from the 1950s. We made it to Fallon after midnight and checked into a motel for the night. I tried pouring some solution into the radiator to help clog the leak but the hole was too big.

The next morning we were disappointed to find all the auto repairs shops closed. We spent a lot of time in the Auto Zone cluelessly walking around and our bewilderment must have been obvious because a young man offered to help us out. He took a look at my radiator and confirmed the leak, and he offered to take us to his home garage where we could try and replace the radiator ourselves. I figured that a guy who spends his free time at Auto Zone must know his cars. His name was Mason and he was a young veteran with an unapologetic and unpredictable demeanor. We went from store to store and tracked down the right radiator model in Fernley, Nevada and he drove us to the location where we picked it up. We then went back and began the long process of taking apart the Jeep. We worked late into the night but we eventually got the new radiator attached to the Jeep and reassembled the vehicle.

Mason warned us that we would need to burp the system when we got home and there was a chance the engine could still overheat due to lingering air bubbles. I offered to deliver some artwork to his father who lives in the Bay Area and while he didn’t ask for anything I gave him some cash. We thanked Mason then left Fallon a little after 8pm. It was very touch and go because the engine continued to get hot, but it would cool off as the bubbles subsided. We had to stop the vehicle several times to let it cool down. Highway 80 has a lot of steep sections which we took very slowly. Once we made it to the top of Donner Pass we were home free.