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mrsgiovanna · 4 years ago

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Nostalgia

A bit of a drawn out scenario, slightly angsty as the reader fights with certain emotions, the beginnings of Don Giorno x reader relationship.

TW: mentions of injuries, part 5 spoilers,

Nostalgia is a strange phenomenon. Sometimes it can fill you with warm, comforting memories that imbue you with joy, other times it can instill a heavy melancholy that refuses to be shaken. You had been going back and forth between these two states ever since that bizarre week had changed the course of your life just over 3 years ago.

Septembers in Italy were beautiful, the sweltering summer heat begins to mellow out for milder temperatures and an amber glow starts to tint the atmosphere. Today, however, was especially important to you. September 27th… Bruno’s birthday… As you sit in front of your vanity mirror, adding the finishing touches to your outfit for the day, you can’t help but reminisce about the all the different things Bruno taught you as you were growing up. He was the one who taught you how to braid your hair and encouraged you to be a bit less abrasive in your mannerisms. It’s funny when you think about it, but you were groomed into a lady by the most elegant man you’d ever known.

You had first met Bruno when you were 10 years old after taking the initiation test with Polpo. You were forced into an impossible situation, and joining Passione was the only way to survive. Being among the younger members under Polpo’s control meant that you had encountered Bruno on a number of missions. At first you found him so vexing with his perfectly cut hair and neat, fashionable clothes. You on the other hand could have easily been mistaken for a street urchin had it not been for your naturally pretty face and sparkly eyes. An unlikely friendship had bloomed between you and the serene boy, and it wouldn’t be long before you both started to treat each other as siblings. Your heart was always unclouded when you followed Bruno, so you made a promise to yourself to protect him at all costs.

As the years went on, you’d trained with your stand to get stronger. Yours was one that comprised of two acts, the first awakened after you were impaled by the stand arrow during Polpo’s test, and the second, when you and Bruno were on a particularly dangerous mission. You had both somehow underestimated your enemy… You just remember being engulfed by a sea of red, not realizing that it was flowing from you. You watched the enemy stand user move towards Bruno, and your broken body moved before you could even think and landed the finishing blow in one graceful action. A few days later you woke up in a complete daze to a rather angry faced Bruno who reluctantly told you what had happened. You had hoped your poor condition would be enough of a deterrent for the scolding you knew you were about to receive, but luck was not on your side… After that day Bruno silently vowed to keep you safe.

One by one Bruno recruited members for his unit, stitching together a group of misfits into the family you had grown to love. You shared a special bond with each of them- they were the band of brothers you so desperately wanted. It was a shame it didn’t last longer…

You were jolted out of your reverie by the shrill ring of your cellphone. You didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know it was Giorno. You contemplated taking the call, but you felt a bit fragile, and knew that if he had heard how you had sounded, he’d want to go to visit Bruno’s grave with you. Aware of the fact that if he couldn’t get a hold of you, he’d just come to look for you, you reluctantly ignored the call and placed the cellphone in your bag, continuing with readying yourself for the day. You just needed a bit of time to visit Bruno on your own first.

You’d finished off the braid running over the side of your head with a familiar gold clip, and fastened a peculiar looking necklace with a golden zipper hanging from it around your neck. Usually donning these accessories when you needed comfort, it was days like these, the nostalgia ridden days in which comfort was what you needed the most. Giving yourself a quick once over in the full length mirror that was mounted next to the entrance of your room you decided you had done enough and it was time for you to head out.

The first thing you were greeted with when you stepped outside your apartment building was the luxurious black car waiting for you, sent by Giorno no doubt. Slightly grimacing, you gracefully climbed in expecting to find him there but the car was empty save for your driver and the guard who took up the front end. The young Don did, however, leave a large bouquet of white flowers for you to take with you as an offering. It seems with the ignored call, he had gotten the message. You didn’t understand why you still needed a guard. Over the years since Giorno had become Don, he had taken you off all dangerous missions, and recently, you hadn’t been sent on any missions at all... Looking at the beautiful flowers, some types you hadn’t even seen before, you were certain that Giorno created them with his stand ability, and was suddenly overcome with a pang of guilt, almost certain that your actions had slighted your boss. You had a complex relationship with Giorno. You were both the same age, and when he first joined Passione, you were intrigued by him... he seemed so much more mature than you were- it left you wondering what were the circumstances that had forged him in this manner. He was an incredibly handsome young man, and every time he had spoken to you, or had spoken in general, you had felt your face heat up. If only those warm, fluttery feelings could have lasted…

You didn’t blame him for losing your friends, you could honestly say, you never really did blame him at all, he was, unfortunately, an easy target for your wrath and sorrow because everything had spiraled out of control after his arrival, almost as if he was the catalyst. So in his first months as the Don, not only did he have to deal with reforming Passione, but with your ruthless insults as well, much to your chagrin though, he handled both of those challenges with the grace of a prince. After some time you had realized you were selfishly focusing on your own loss, not registering the fact that Giorno, Mista and Trish had all lost these people as well, and were all processing their feelings.

You resolved to apologize to Giorno, and he was gracious enough to accept without going further into it. With that you allowed yourself to get closer to him, and it wouldn’t be long before you realized that his convictions were as noble and selfless as could be.

You had finally arrived at the site. Slowly walking towards the beautiful headstone you laid the bouquet in front of it and sat on the soft grass beside his grave, just staring at the lettering on the ornate stone for a few moments. Saying a silent prayer, you could only hope that Bruno was at peace, and that he was watching over you all, hopefully with pride rather than disappointment.

Time had flown by, and you only noticed that the light was slowly starting to fade when a cold wind had ripped through the area. Hugging yourself to keep warm you stood up and gave his resting spot one last glance before you could turn to leave, which was proving more difficult than you thought, feeling the tears sting the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

Giorno knew that you were purposefully ignoring his attempts to contact you, so he gave you the space you needed. He wasn’t sure when his feelings for you intensified, but he was aware that the things he did for you went well beyond his sense of duty towards Bucciarati. He could understand why you wanted to keep your distance, and he convinced himself that assuring your safety and loving you from afar would be okay, but the cracks in his resolve revealed themselves every time he spoke to you. For all intents and purposes, he was going to let you have this day to yourself, but when he called the driver who was still waiting for you, and found out that you were still at Bruno’s grave, he had to go after you. He grabbed his coat, knowing that you’d probably be freezing in the nippy evening air and decided to drive himself to you.

When he got to you, it was as he expected, you were holding yourself as you stood up from your spot. Your shoulders trembled, although he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the emotions swirling around in your mind… no matter, he got out of the car and made his way towards you.

Suddenly, you felt something warm envelop you. The feint scent of expensive cologne was familiar to you and when you turned around to meet intense emerald eyes looking at you, you knew why.

“Cara… I was unsure of whether to come… I just wanted to make sure you were okay… Well as okay as can be expected on a day like this.”

The gentle quality of his voice was so soothing, you wanted to reply that you were fine and that he didn’t have to worry about you, but your words were trapped in your throat as Giorno raised his hand to your face to wipe away a few tears that had betrayed you.

Noticing how you battled to choke back your sobs, Giorno spoke. “It’s okay to let it out. Get it out of your system so you can heal. I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through in your life, but I do know that you’re pretty special to have won over everyone… even Abbacchio”.

He was shocked to hear your soft laughter. He looked down at you to see the most beautiful smile blossom on your face. You didn’t mean to laugh at him, you were just reminded of the exchanges between Abbacchio and Giorno and couldn’t help but laugh at the memories, or the fact that Don Giovanna still seemed perturbed by them.

“Come on cara, it’s starting to get dark and cold, and I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything all day. Mista, Trish and Fugo are waiting for us at Libeccio… Come, I won’t take no for an answer, ” Giorno said as he extended his hand to you. You looked up to see him smiling at you, and a sense of solace washed over you. You weren’t sure if it was his gentle demeanor or the way the setting sun illuminated his golden curls like a halo, but your heart felt at ease for the first time in years. You took his hand, silently returning his smile. The warmth kept growing within you, it was familiar, and a comforting reminder of happier times.

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libsterslobsters · 4 years ago

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Sick Again

Summary: It's the worst time of month for the reader, and on top of the difficulty of dealing with her period, she's having an awful, no good, very bad day all around. Lucky for her, Bucky just wants to help.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see shards of the future and understand every language)

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of blood and menstruation, language, fluff

Author's note: This is the softest shit I've ever written for this site! In real life, I'm lucky enough to have someone who goes out of their way to make my day better when I'm dealing with my period, so I thought the reader deserved that too. As always, I've left the reader unnamed so this can be read as a self-insert, but I've written so much about this character that, in my head, her name is Violet.

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She knows it’s going to be a rough one from the moment she wakes up. She’s slept through her alarm somehow (either that, or she forgot to set it), and she’s not entirely sure if her phone dinging with a good morning text that’s brought her out of unconsciousness, or the dull ache in her lower stomach. Cramps. Great. As she stands, she realizes that it’s already started, the bed has a noticable red splotch and her thighs are wet. Her period has arrived. Hey, at least she’s not pregnant. That would be some relief if she were actually having sex.

While waiting for the shower to heat up (after stripping the bed of course; she’ll have to do something about those sheets to make sure they don’t stain), she reads over her text. “Good morning, sweetheart.” That’s a new one. He must be exploring different pet names. So far, she feels awkward using anything other than his given name. Still, she smiles and types back a “Good morning. How are you always so damn chipper?” before stepping into the shower.

There’s not a lot of options for breakfast, and every single one of them turns her stomach as she imagines consuming them. With a sigh, she shoves some spare change in her pocket and vows to buy herself a cup of coffee on the way to the college. It’ll give her the jitters, but she’s so tired this morning that it’s a risk she’s willing to take.

Unfortunately, by the time she arrives at work, her head is pounding and the cramps have gone from unpleasant to downright painful. Her plan for this morning’s class was to read the children’s classic, “Green Eggs and Ham”, have a discussion about rhyming words, and then have her students work on simple poems of their own, but she’s feeling so bad that she decides to make it a movie day and have them translate a scene of their choosing from a Romanian cartoon into English.

Usually she enjoys her work. The students always ask great questions, and the thing she likes most about teaching adults is they’re here because they want to learn. Today, however? It feels like every minute lasts five times as long as it should, and by lunch time, she’s wilting. When her phone rings, she almost sends it to voicemail, but then he’d worry about her, and besides, the highlight of her whole shitty day so far has been that good morning text.

“Hey, Bucky.” As she says it, a wave of nausea hits her, and she has to take a deep breath before continuing. “What’s new on the other side of the city?”

She really should be paying attention, but she feels bad enough that most of what he says goes in one ear and out the other. She’s so muddled in fact that she doesn’t realize he’s asked her something until the line goes silent for a few seconds too long.

“I’m sorry. Say again?”

“Doll, are you okay? You sound a little…” he hesitates. “...not like yourself.”

She’s prepared to tell him she’s fine, right as rain, but one thing they both absolutely agree on is honesty between them, since they have to tell so many lies to the outside world on a day-to-day basis.

“I’m not feeling that well today, but I’ll be okay.”

“What’s going on? Are you coming down with something, do you think?” Yeah, her period, but if what she’s read about the nineteen forties is anything to judge from, he’s probably not used to hearing about that particular bodily function.

“No. It happens every so often. I’ll be good as new in a few days.” But right now, she sure as shit wishes she’d remembered to grab a few aspirin.

“If you say so. Do you want me to swing by after you get home from work and bring you anything?” That would be really, really great, but considering she still has blood-stained sheets soaking in her bathtub…

“No, that’s alright. Thanks anyway.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

It’s a mercy she only has two afternoon classes, neither of which are very intense, so by two o’clock, she’s on the bus home. All she wants to do is curl up into a ball on one of the seats in hopes it’ll alleviate some of the pain in her abdomen, but then an older gentleman with a cane boards the bus and there aren’t any other seats available, so she waves him over and gives him her seat. It’s only another ten minutes, after all. Finally, the bus stops a few blocks from her apartment so, slinging her over-filled backpack onto her shoulder, she sets off on the trudge home.

She’s just set foot into the building when a woman she recognizes as her neighbor from a few doors down comes her way. “The heat is out and the super is off who knows where.” Great. She thought it felt a little chilly in here, and now that she’s paying attention, her breath is forming ice crystals in the air. She thanks her neighbor for the warning and, collecting her mail, heads towards the elevator.

Because her luck is shitty, she has a vision of pressing the buttons and waiting, only for nothing to happen. Looks like the elevator is out too. The stairs then. No big deal. She only lives on the sixth floor. It could be worse. Of course, on her way up, her backpack strap breaks, so she has to shift to carrying it in her arms. Today is just not her day, and she needs to accept it.

That truth becomes even more apparent as she reaches her door (at last!) and realizes that her key is nowhere to be found. She must’ve dropped it in the stairwell when her backpack gave out. She’ll have to go searching for it later, but for now, she digs around in her purse and, producing the right implements, proceeds to pick her own lock and let herself inside.

It shouldn’t be possible, but her apartment is actually colder than the hallway was. Feeling utterly defeated, she drops her backpack onto the couch with a thump and, not bothering to peel off her coat, climbs into bed. Maybe she can get a power nap and it’ll give her enough energy to get through the papers she needs to grade before tomorrow.

___________________________________________________________________________________

The first sign of trouble appears when he texts her ten minutes after the usual time she arrives home, and there’s no reply. From what he’s read, lots of people take a while to return texts or phone calls, but not her. No, she’s always prompt. Thirty seconds or less. Then, he tries to call, ask her if she’s feeling any better and if she’s sure she doesn’t want him to bring her anything. After eight rings, he gets her voicemail. He’s not great at leaving messages, so he just goes with the basics. Hey, it’s Bucky. Just checking on you. Call me back when you’re up to it. Another hour passes, and nothing.

He can’t just sit around his apartment worrying, so he decides to do what he was planning on earlier when he sent the first text: ignore that she’s told him she doesn’t need anything and go to pick up some supplies, then drop them by her front door. No need to go inside if she’d rather not have company. They don’t even have to see each other. He wonders briefly as he’s going through the grocery store, adding cans of soup to his cart, if this is crossing a boundary. Should he just leave her be, since she said she didn’t need anything? Is this pushing too far? He doesn’t know, but he can’t stop imagining her all alone with no one to take care of her. Sure, she can look after herself, but she doesn’t have to. No, a few cans of soup and some tea won’t go amiss. That’s all he’ll do unless she asks for his help.

The bus ride is a little awkward, considering the two huge paper bags he’s carrying with him, but that’s the least of his worries as he sends her another text that he’s dropping a few things by her door, but not to worry about making conversation if she’s not up to it, he won’t come in. No reply, again. A huge part of him wants to get off at the next stop and just run the rest of the way (it’d probably be faster), but that seems like a good way to attract attention, so he forces himself to stay in his seat, waiting for the right street.

The lobby is freezing when he steps inside. There’s a thermometer hanging by the elevator. It’s in celcius, but he rapidly translate the temperature. Roughly thirty-eight degrees fahrenheit. In other words, cold as fuck. As he’s waiting for the elevator to return to the ground floor, a man passes by him and mutters, “You’re going to be waiting a long time, son. It’s out of order.” Of course it is. This isn’t the worst apartment building in the city, but it’s not too far off. The stairs, then.

He’s halfway up the six flights to her floor when he sees something on the ground, something he immediately recognizes because of the butterfly key chain attached. Her keys. Now he’s not just worried; he’s outright scared. Grabbing up the keys, he hurriedly climbs the last three flights and, no longer concerned about looking suspicious, knocks hard on her door. Nothing. Fuck. What should he do? The obvious answer is to use the damn keys (he has a spare set, but he’s never let himself in without her express permission before) and go inside. So, that’s what he does, hoping against hope that there’s a logical explanation for all this. One besides something being very, very wrong.

It feels like someone left the air conditioning on full blast inside the apartment. At first he thinks a window must be open, but as he walks from kitchen to living room (all four paces of it), he sees nothing out of the ordinary. Well, except her backpack. The strap has given out, and it’s been thrown haphazardly on the couch. So at least she made it home.

He calls her name quietly, then a little louder before making his way towards her bedroom, not wanting to startle her. The bathroom door is ajar, and without meaning to, he glances inside. Immediately, he freezes. There’s a set of bed sheets in the tub, and… is that blood? Shit! How could he be this stupid? He should’ve rushed over the second he realized she’d taken too long to return a text. Now who knows what’s happened?

The bedroom door is closed, so he can’t see inside. A cold sweat has broken out on the back of his neck as, slowly, he turns the doorknob. He’s got one hand on his pocket with the knife concealed inside as he eases the door open, but there’s no need. She’s all alone in there, curled into a ball on her stripped bed, still in her coat and hat. Thanks to his better than average sight, even from a distance, he can tell that she’s breathing, body shifting slightly with each inhale and exhale, and in return, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

He approaches the bed as quietly as he can so as not to disturb her. She’s really out then, if she hasn’t woken up from the mattress dipping as he sits down next to her. He doesn’t touch her, just holds the palm of his good hand a few millimeters away from her forehead. No fever from what he can tell. He feels a little foolish now, because it appears that she’s perfectly fine. More than likely was asleep and didn’t hear the text alert. Still, for his own peace of mind, he needs to hear as much from her.

“Doll, can you wake up for me?” As he says it, he pushes back a few stray hairs that have stuck to her forehead in sleep. Her eyelids flutter once, twice, before opening all the way.

“Bucky? What-” She starts to sit up, then groans.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, a pained smile in place. “At least, nothing major.” He’s not sure he buys that, but before he can give it anymore consideration- “What are you doing here?”

There’s no good way to put it, so he goes with the truth.

“When you didn’t answer your phone, I got worried. I was gonna come by and drop some things off at the door, but when I found your keys in the stairwell-”

“Oh.” She chuckles softly. “So that’s where they went. I had to pick the lock on my own front door. Must’ve dropped them when the strap broke on my backpack.” That answers that. Not a fight. Not her running to get away and, in her haste, losing her keys. Just an ordinary mishap.

“Sorry.” Without thinking, he scratches at his neck. “Guess I got a little carried away.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She shakes her head and, offering him a small smile, takes his hand. “It’s sweet of you to worry. Although I didn’t mean for you to.” Worrying about her seems to be a permanent part of his life, and frankly, it’s one he wouldn’t get rid of even if he could. That reminds him…

“Why were there blood-soaked sheets in your tub?” Her cheeks heat up, and he immediately hates himself. “Sorry. The door was open and I saw-”

“It’s okay.” She looks down, studying her lap. “This is embarrassing to talk about, but I started my period last night in my sleep.” Oh. “That’s why I wasn’t feeling so hot today, and before I went to work, I put the sheets in the tub to soak.” That makes sense. If he felt stupid before, now he feels like an absolute moron.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” It wasn’t exactly something that was commonly talked about when he was growing up, but he’s an adult. He knows how this works. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

��“We’re together now, right?” Frowning in confusion, he nods. “Pry away. I’ll tell you to fuck off if you push too far. After all, I think you know my biggest secret.” He chuckles and leans forward, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“I think that’s mutual.” Now that he knows she’s okay, it’s time to get to work. “Is it okay if I go ahead and unpack what I brought? Just a few cans of soup and the like?”

“You didn’t have to-”

“Sure I did.” He cuts her off. “That’s my job. Take care of my best girl.” The blush is back, but this time, he doesn’t feel bad for provoking it.

“I can help you put those away-” As she speaks, she sits up and starts to climb out of bed.

“Or you can stay there and rest. Let me handle it.” She still doesn’t look convinced. “Then maybe we can just sit together and relax, watch a movie while you get a head start on those papers? What do you say?”

She sighs. “Are you sure? I’m not going to be much company, and this time of month can get kinda graphic.”

As if that’s even a question. “I’m sure.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

It hasn’t been an evening for the record books. The most exciting thing that’s happened is that she’s taken a hot shower with him still in her apartment (scandalous! He was a mere two rooms away, so he could’ve seen everything). Still it’s been nice. The canned soup tasted as you would expect canned soup to taste. They made brief small talk about each other’s days before starting up a movie on her laptop (Frozen, because it seems appropriate, given the temperature, plus if she has to deal with ‘Let it Go’ living in her mind rent-free for the rest of her life, then dammit, so does he), and settled in on her bed to watch. The last paper was graded a full hour ago, and currently, she’s resting with her head on his chest, both of them bundled in every blanket she owns.

The cramps are still bad, but his good arm is slung over her lower stomach, and the warm is helping somewhat. That, and with a few painkillers in her system, she’s feeling much better than earlier in the day. Better, and sleepy.

She tries to stay awake (she wants to be completely alert for every second that he’s with her), but between the warmth from their bodies pressed together under the covers, the pleasant background noise from the movie, the contentment of a full stomach, and the heaviness of exhaustion, before she realizes it, she’s asleep.

It’s only when she feels a feather-light touch to her cheek that she opens her eyes and becomes aware that she’s been dosing. His face is mere inches from her, hand caressing her face.

“Doll, you seem pretty tired. I think we should call it a night and let you get some rest.”

She knows better, but she’s just sleepy enough that her inhibitions lower, and she murmurs,

“Stay with me.”

Behind lowered lashes, she sees his face break into a small smile.

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll stay if you want me to.”

It’s forward. They’ve never spent the night together (or, come to think of it, even been in her bed) before in any sense of the word, but as she drifts off once more, she can’t help but think that this just feels right.

#marvel #fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #captain america #the winter soldier #fluff

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wild-springflower · 5 years ago

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First Impressions

I can’t get past the theory of Buck’s dad being an abusive asshole. So, here’s a thing I wrote where the team find out firsthand!

It’s a perfectly normal morning for the 118, nothing has gone catastrophically wrong yet and they are riding that shred of hope all the way through what is promising to be a good breakfast, if the smells wafting from the small kitchen area are anything to go by.

It had been a while since they’d gotten a chance to actually sit down and enjoy their meal, as they were being sent out on one call or another. Not that any of them would complain about their jobs, it just would be nice to enjoy non-microwaved food every once in a while.

Chim is in the middle of telling a story from his last call that both Eddie and Hen had missed, involving a guy who had dabbled, perhaps a little too much, in a less than legal substance, and had subsequently gotten his hand stuck in a toaster.

“So, we just walked onto the scene, and he starts screaming down at us to ‘hurry up!’ I mean, I thought he was dying based on how hysterical he was. And we get up there to find the guy had accidentally switched the toaster on while trying to get his hand out of it!”

Hen doubled over, not caring about laughing at some poor idiot who she knew was okay, because if he wasn’t Chim wouldn’t be telling the story. “Oh my god, no.”

Eddie shook his head, smiling and laughing as well, even Bobby gave a chuckle from his place in front of the stove. It had been a while since they’d all been like that, just siting and having a good time with one another. Except they were down one number.

Eddie’s thoughts had barely drifted to Buck when his phone buzzed, “Speak of the devil.” He said to himself, voice unheard over the uproar of laughter when Chim informed everyone that this moron forgot how toasters worked and didn’t know he could just unplug it to make it turn off.

Buck’s message was short, and to the point: Running late

Something about it didn’t sit quite right with Eddie, Buck was one for embellishing his texts with dorky emojis, or at least several punctuation marks too many.

“Well I guess it wasn’t that funny.” Chim commented, waving his hands in Eddie’s direction, “Yo, earth to Eddie.”

“He just got a text from his boyfriend, he’s a little preoccupied.” Hen heckled him.

“Buck’s not my boyfriend.” Eddie shot back immediately.

A devious smirk captured Hen’s lips, “Did I mention Buck? Chim I don’t remember saying Buck.”

“You most certainly did not say Buck.” Chim played along easily, smiling broadly at the expense of his teammate.

Eddie’s ears burned and he ducked his head in embarrassment but was thankfully saved by Bobby interjecting into the conversation before it could devolve any further.

“Where is Buck anyway?”

“Yeah, Buckaroo’s normally one of the first here.” Chim stated, looking around almost as if they had somehow just missed an entire member of their team.

Eddie shook his head, still looking at his phone, “He said he’s running late.”

Hen seemed to pick up on his unease because not a second later she was leaning towards him, all traces of her earlier jokes disappeared from her tone. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’ve just got a weird feeling. I suppose we just wait and see when he shows up? We can always ask him if something’s going on.”

The others nodded, and as it turned out, they were not kept waiting long, as not ten minutes later a very tense looking Buck strode through the wide garage doors. He wasn’t alone however, a taller and older looking gentleman was following close behind, clearly agitated about something.

“You’ve been ignoring me for nearly a decade Evan you’ll have to grow up eventually.”

“I’m not-” Buck started, but quickly lowered his voice, “I’m not ignoring you. I just don’t have time right now; I have to work.”

Eddie stood from the couch and started slowly walking towards the stairs, he didn’t like the way his friend was acting, and the older man was setting off all sorts of alarm bells in the back of his mind.

“Oh, you have to work, do you? Big important firefighter that you are.” The man jeered, clearly amused.

The loud voice drew the rest of the team’s attention, and they all were glancing warily between each other and the scene unfolding before them.

Buck’s shoulders sagged, and he looked so exhausted it almost hurt. “Please, can we just not do this here?”

“Okay, then when Evan? When are you going to grow a pair and actually talk to me, because I’ve had enough of your constant excuses. So, when are we going to do this.” He shot Buck’s own words back at him like some sort of insult.

Eddie saw the annoyance turn to rage and a second later Buck was whirling to face the man, who Eddie had a sneaking suspicion was his father, the thought leaving a pit in his stomach.

Buck’s duffle fell from his shoulder and hit the ground with a dull thud, his arms spread wide, “I don’t know. Eventually! Okay? Just not right now! Sorry if the fact that I have a life is inconvenient to you!”

The man’s glare darkened, and the energy in the room turned almost electric. Then before anyone could really react, he had extended his arm in a devastating backhand that connected with a strong slap against Buck’s right cheek.

Buck seemed to just freeze, gasping slightly, watering eyes steadfastly refusing to move from the ground.

“Hey!” Eddie shouted, and not a moment later he was bounding down the steps, three more pairs of boots echoing behind him.

They weren’t there fast enough however, because by the time they got near their friend the older man already had the cuff of his shirt bunched up in a fist and was pulling Buck closer.

Buck’s breaths were coming in stuttering gasps, whole body shaking as he leaned as far away from the man as possible.

“You know better than to raise your voice at me.” He growled, voice low and threatening.

“Yes sir.” Buck whispered, the words seeming to fall off his tongue in a habitual monotone.

“Now what do you say?”

Buck swallowed thickly, still refusing to make eye contact, but when he didn’t respond immediately the man shook him by the collar and raised his hand again in a threatening gesture.

Eddie didn’t think it was physically possible for Buck to get any smaller, his voice a hoarse whisper, “Sorry sir.”

Eddie was on them a moment later, rage boiling in his stomach at the sight. No one, especially a father, had a right to make someone feel that way. “Let go.” He practically snarled.

“This is a discussion between myself and my insolent son. It doesn’t concern you.”

Eddie had opened his mouth to spit back fire at the man, but Bobby’s calming voice interrupted him first, “Actually it does. It concerned me the minute you stepped into my firehouse and physically abused one of my employees.” The way he said “my” sounded almost possessive, and Eddie was sure that wasn’t an accident.

“Now, let go of him before I have to get the police involved.”

Bless Bobby and his ever-present level head, if it had been up to Eddie alone, he would have socked the guy square in the jaw. He still wasn’t entirely sure that ship had sailed however, as the man had yet to release Buck and leave the station.

Several pairs of hands dove together with wonderful efficiency, Chim working to release the man’s grasp from Buck’s shirt as Hen tugged the shirt away and Bobby placed a warning grip on the man’s wrist.

They’d gotten Buck out of the man’s hold, but their friend seemed glued to the spot, vibrating terribly and blinking back tears.

Hen gripped his shoulders in her arms, gentle and reassuring, while Chim was rubbing his arm softly.

“You’re pathetic, you can’t even fight your battles on your own can you.” The man sneered, taking a threatening step forward and raising his fist.

Several things happened all at once. The moment Buck’s father moved Buck viscerally flinched, eyes squeezing shut in preparation of some sort of retribution. Chim’s grip on his arm tightened, and he was entirely ready to physically pull Buck out of there should the need arise. Hen stepped in front of him with a death glare, fully prepared to take a punch for her friend. But before she was in any danger of the fist connecting Eddie had intercepted the man’s arm and shoved it out of the way.

Bobby grabbed his phone from his pocket, Athena’s speed dial all queued up. “Chim, Hen, take Buck upstairs.” He commanded; voice strong but soft.

Buck’s feet shuffled with a gentle tug from his friends but one shout from his father had him clamming up again. “Evan Xavier Buckley, I did not give you permission to leave.”

“He’s not in your house, he’s in mine. And I give the orders around here.” Bobby said, “Chim, Hen, get Buck upstairs.”

“Come on buddy.” Chim whispered at the same time Hen softly cooed, “We’ve got you Buckaroo.” Their strong arms wrapped around his trembling form the entire way.

Eddie still stood, hands clenched in fists by his sides, and glaring icy daggers at the man. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead ages ago.

“How dare you.” He hissed, rage turning to Bobby.

“How dare him?” Eddie scoffed, “How dare you!”

“Listen you petulant child, I don’t have the time or the patience for you.”

“So, what are you gonna do? Gonna hit me too?” Eddie mocked, stepping further into the man’s personal space. “Go ahead. Hit me, I dare you. Give me a good old smack, see what happens.”

A strong hand gripping his shoulder pulled his attention away and Bobby gave him a warning look, “Eddie, that’s enough. You head upstairs as well; I’ll join you all shortly.”

Eddie stood for a moment longer and just seethed, before he scoffed in disgust and turned his back on Buck’s horrible excuse for a father.

He heard Bobby, somehow still amazingly calm and collected, telling the man that he could either leave willingly or be escorted out, handcuffs notwithstanding.

Eddie stormed the stairs two at a time and started pacing angrily in front of the couch Hen and Chim had sat Buck down on. He looked completely shut down, eyes still staring almost vacantly at the ground as his body shook.

“God, who the hell does he think he is?” Eddie practically growled, “To think he can just come in here and get away with that?”

“Eddie,” Hen called, stern but quiet, “Knock it off.” And she gestured to where Buck was sitting, shaking somehow intensified.

With a pang of guilt, Eddie realized he had unintentionally scared his best friend even more. “Buck, hey I am so sorry.” His tone immediately shifted, and he knelt down in the least threatening way possible. “I’m not mad at you, I promise. Can I sit by you?” He was treating Buck much the same way he would treat Christopher when he was younger and still blaming himself for simple accidents.

It took a moment, but eventually Buck gave a halting nod of his head and Eddie was up and by his side in seconds, swapping out places with Chimney who went to retrieve the med kit; the broken skin directly on Buck’s cheekbone almost sent Eddie over the edge again.

“Is it alright if I put my arm around you?” He knew Hen was already all over the physical support area, but he felt the need to act, at least do a little something.

Buck’s nod yes was quicker that time and it made Eddie’s heart lift, if only slightly.

“Okay Buckaroo,” Chim called, announcing his presence long before he came into peripheral view. “I just need to clean that cut up a little bit, alright?”

“Um,” Buck’s voice wavered, his eyes scrunched tight, “Can you-just um, I need a minute okay?”

Chim’s voice was gentle with understanding, “Of course, you just tell me whenever you’re ready.”

“Yeah and we’re right here for you.” Hen’s words were accompanied with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. She met Eddie’s eyes over Buck’s ducked head, seeing the sadness she was feeling reflected right back at her.

Buck tried taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself, they were all halting and uneven, but his shaking quelled a little, which was better than nothing. Finally, he opened his eyes again, but his gaze remained trained on the ground by his feet. “Um, Eddie? Can I-” He trailed off, but his fingers extended to where Eddie’s hand was gripping his thigh, just above the knee, and Eddie understood immediately what he wanted.

He didn’t hesitate for a moment, gripping Buck’s hand within his own, “Of course.”

Buck’s grasp was tight, and his hands were definitely still shaking, but the support seemed to give him the confidence he needed. He still didn’t look up, but he nodded, “Okay,” He gave Chimney the go ahead.

Chim crouched down slowly, trying to make sure Buck could see him, the last thing Chim wanted was to startle his friend with any sudden movements. “Alright, so I just have to clean it and then put a little butterfly strip on, sound good?”

“Let’s do it.”

Eddie felt Buck’s fingers curl tighter around his palm, and by the look Chim sent Hen, they hadn’t missed the change either.

“Okay Buckaroo, I’m gonna be coming in, just my hands with some antiseptic.”

Eddie took it as a good sign that Buck didn’t flinch as soon as Chim’s hands got near his face, he did hiss and pull back slightly though when the antiseptic wipe was applied.

“I know.” Hen hummed in sympathy.

Chim winced, the last thing he wanted was to cause Buck further pain, “Sorry bud. Almost done.” A second later he was gently pressing two ends of a small butterfly bandage over the broken skin. He rubbed his thumb across his lower cheek, and Buck smiled up at him ever so slightly. Chim smiled back encouragingly, “All done. I think someone deserves a sucker.”

“You have one?” Buck joked, although he sounded slightly hopeful.

Their conversation was interrupted as Bobby came trudging up the stairs, and any progress they seemed to have made disappeared as Buck reverted back into himself. He quickly pulled his hand from Eddie’s and ducked his head down, refusing to make eye contact.

Eddie stifled a disappointed sigh and moved his hand back to Buck’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze to show his friend he was still there offering support.

Bobby saw Buck shrink from him and tried not to take it personally, he was the big authority figure of the station, he posed the most potential for threat no matter how small it was. The reaction still made his heart ache.

Bobby sat with a heavy sigh on the ground directly in front of the couch, eyes sad. He wanted to show Buck he was not a threat and getting below him in the least scary position possible seemed like a good place to start. His voice was gentle when he spoke, “Hey kiddo, I didn’t call Athena, but I can. She can help you press charges if you want, we won’t have any problem proving aggravated assault.”

Buck shook his head quickly, “No, no that would just-just make things worse. It’s fine, he’ll leave soon enough. I shouldn’t have yelled like that anyway.”

“Hey,” Bobby was quick to shut down that line of thinking. “First of all, this was in no way your fault. And no matter what you did, it did not warrant his reaction. You understand? You didn’t deserve that, and it’s not your fault that it happened.”

Buck bit his bottom lip, trying to quell the waves of tears pooling in his eyes once again. “God, I thought I was past that, past him. It’s been like seven years.”

Hen’s face crinkled in confusion, “Didn’t your dad say he hadn’t seen you in like, almost ten years.”

Buck just shrugged, as if to say, “that’s one way to deal with it”.

Eddie’s grip just tightened further around his shoulder, subconsciously pulling Buck as close to his body as possible. “Do you want us to call anyone? Maddie?”

At the mention of his sister’s name, Buck’s wide eyes shot up and zeroed in on where Chim was busying himself putting the antiseptic wipes away. “No! You can’t mention this to her!”

Chim blinked, before realization dawned, and a sad sigh rushed past his lips. “She doesn’t know.”

Buck shook his head as more tears followed the pre-paved trails down his cheeks, “You can’t tell her. Please Chim, she’ll only feel guilty and try to take the blame.”

“Seems to run in the family.” Hen gave Buck’s shoulder a gentle nudge.

He cracked a pitiful smile at that, and opened his mouth but Hen cut him off with a hand pressed against his lips.

“I swear to god if the next words about to come out of your mouth are “I’m sorry”, I’m-well I’m gonna hug you first but then I’m gonna be hella pissed.”

She pulled her hand away, and Buck almost cringed, not really sure what else to say other than, “Sorry?”

“Oh my-what did I just say!” Hen cried, all smiles, and pulled Buck into a tight embrace.

And if it lasted a little long or was a little tighter than was per usual, well no one was going to call them out.

When Buck pulled back his lips twitched slightly, eyes radiating silent gratitude. He sniffed and cleared his throat, “Well, Mr. Daniel Buckley ladies and gentlemen.”

Eddie gave an unimpressed shrug, “Ya know, as far as first impressions go, he left much to be desired.”

Buck barked out a wet laugh, the comment taking him by surprise. “You don’t say.”

#911fox #911 fox #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #dad!bobby #9-1-1 fox #tw: past abuse #tw: abuse

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tealin · 5 years ago

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The Story of the Discovery Hut

You may have noticed that last week I breezily mentioned a visit to Scott's Discovery Hut as though it were just another class on the schedule. It most definitely was not! Wandering around one of the principal locations of the Terra Nova Expedition – of the whole of Heroic Age Antarctic history – was the pinnacle of the sensory overload of my first 36 hours on the continent, not least because the grubby old Discovery Hut is one of the least well documented sites, so most of it was completely new to me. To visit the other locations on my itinerary, I needed one or another sets of training, but Hut Point is only a short walk from McMurdo Station on solid ground, so my coordinator was keen to get me there as soon as possible.

My first full day in Antarctica was the coldest of the whole trip. I noted in my journal that it was -4°F/-20°C – I don't recall if that was with wind chill or without, but it was definitely windy that day, so you can imagine. The previous day's flurries were still blowing around, so the atmosphere was properly polar, and for the first time I was glad I had brought the heavy-duty boots that had been such a boulder in my luggage.

The Discovery Hut is named such because it was built on the Discovery Expedition, in early 1902 when the ship had found its permanent berth in the small bay at the end of the southernmost peninsula of Ross Island. The bay was imaginatively dubbed Winter Quarters Bay, and the spit of land adjacent to it was called Hut Point, the creativity of which was extended to the whole Hut Point Peninsula. The hut itself had been picked up in Australia, where it was a flat-pack prefab intended to be transported to the Outback and used to house cattlemen as they drove herds across the country. As such, it was designed to shed heat – not an ideal feature in an Antarctic dwelling, but it was never intended to be lived in, rather to serve as a warehouse and emergency shelter should anything happen to the ship. Subsequent expeditions used it more than the Discovery did, because of its proximity to the permanent ice of the Barrier, which made it a key staging point for any southward travel. They all complained of it being uncomfortably cold inside.

And it was cold. Not that I noticed much, beyond corroborating historical reports that it somehow seemed colder inside the hut than outside. Antarctic cold is a funny thing: You are certainly aware that it is cold, but it is a surface sensation only, and doesn't feel as severe as the thermometer says it is. Skin exposed to the air registers the fact it is cold, but even at -20 it didn't go any deeper than that. Compared to the seeping, insidious cold of a damp British morning or an air-conditioned animation studio cubicle, which disregards layers and seems to chill you from the inside out, -20 in Antarctica is really quite comfortable, if you're dressed properly and sheltered from the wind. I barely noticed how cold it was until the tips of my gloved fingers started tingling, which I observed with some perplexity until I remembered the temperature. At that moment I understood how one could get frostbite without noticing, because one's outermost extremities could suffer while one's internal thermostat was still reading as perfectly warm, if not hot. Hence the practice of deliberate, conscious reminders every few minutes to observe the state of one's feet – they would be all too easy to overlook, otherwise.

Lithium ion batteries don't much like the cold, and unlike human bodies they neither generate their own heat nor have a core heat bank to rely on. I got a few photos that first visit, but my phone died as I was taking a video, so I decided to leave the image harvest to another day. The photos in this post are mostly from later (warmer) visits, when electronics were functioning fully and I'd got over the initial awe of being there.

But before I can give you a photographic tour of the Discovery Hut, I need to fill you in on the history, so that you know what you're looking at when you see it, as I did.

As I said before, the hut was built during the Discovery Expedition but hardly used except for storage and, occasionally, a theatre. The next expedition in town was Shackleton's Nimrod Expedition, which arrived in early 1908. The sea ice that year was much more extensive than it had been in 1902, and the furthest south that the Nimrod could anchor was at Cape Royds, twenty miles north of Hut Point. Shackleton had been on the Discovery, though, and knew there were a lot of good things left in the little square hut across the ice, so he sent a raiding party to scavenge some of them and bring them back to Cape Royds. When they arrived, they couldn't get the door open, so they broke a window to get in, which was never repaired. After it had served its purpose as launching point for southern journeys and the Nimrod left McMurdo Sound, the hut filled up with drifted snow which compacted into ice.

When Scott arrived in the Terra Nova – which was also barred from Hut Point by sea ice and so had settled at Cape Evans, fifteen miles north – he found the broken window and the interior of the hut one solid block of ice. This did not do much to improve his opinion of Shackleton. The depot-laying party pushed on south with their supplies, but Atkinson, who had got an infected blister on his heel and couldn't continue marching, was left at Hut Point with Tom Crean; while the depot party was away, they employed themselves in clearing the ice from the hut. Once that was done, they used biscuit cases and the discarded winter awning from the Discovery to build a smaller chamber within the single room, which would hold the heat better, and improvised a blubber stove from discarded bricks and metal in the Discovery's rubbish heap. There are lots of seals around Hut Point so blubber was a self-supplying fuel, as opposed to the very limited quantity of coal which had been brought down by the ship.

The only way to reach Cape Evans from Hut Point is over the sea ice, and by the time the depot party returned, that had all broken up and gone out to sea. (I am glossing over The Sea Ice Incident. Check it out if you want some crazy adventure.) There was nothing for it but to wait at Hut Point for the sea ice to freeze again, which took from the beginning of March to mid-May. This was, as yet, the longest period of occupation for the hut, and was full of tinkering to make the place more liveable. Everyone devised what they thought was the best model of blubber lamp: whatever the design, it smoked with a thick black soot which added to the smoke from the blubber stove. As a result the hut was often thick with smoke and everyone looked like chimney sweeps before long. Crean and Atkinson had done a massive job clearing out the block of ice in the main room, but there was still ice in the cavity between the ceiling and the roof which they could not access, and this dripped on the assembled crowd every time they got the hut above freezing, turning their reindeer skin sleeping bags into a soggy mess. Despite the soot, the 'snipe marsh,' and a diet limited to recombinations of biscuit, seal meat, and the odds and ends left over from previous expeditions, the men all had a roaring good time. Some of them even claimed, when all was said and done, that this was the best part of the expedition.

Just enough to eat and keep us warm, no more – no frills nor trimmings: there is many a worse and more elaborate life. The necessaries of civilization were luxuries to us: … the luxuries of civilization satisfy only those wants which they themselves create.

— Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World

The hut served its purpose again the following November as the jumping-off place for the great effort to reach the Pole. This is its classic role, and what it is best remembered for, when it is remembered at all, but something which I think gets lost and which adds a great deal to the emotional understanding of the place is that it's also the first taste of home for returning parties, the first solid walls after months of living in a tent. For both the First and Second Returning Parties it was a concrete assurance that they had made it, they were back to safety; it was only the matter of a day's walk to Cape Evans from there, which they did all the time. Like reaching one's own freeway exit after a long road trip, the Discovery Hut would be a welcome return to the familiar. It's the first comfort the Polar Party would have been pulling towards in their struggle to get home before the weather broke up for the winter.

But, as we know, they never got there. The next role of the Discovery Hut, and its most poignant, to me, is as the staging point for another southward journey, the one to meet the Polar Party with the dog teams. Atkinson had taken the dogs there after using them to help unload the ship at Cape Evans, but before he could leave he was co-opted to save the life of Teddy Evans , leader of the Second Returning Party, who was dying of scurvy not far away. Atkinson had to find a substitute, so he sent a message to Cape Evans requesting Wright, and if he was unavailable, Cherry-Garrard. Simpson, who was in charge back at Cape Evans, sent both to Hut Point, with the advice that Wright was needed for his particular scientific expertise and that it would be very inconvenient to lose him. So Wright was sent home, and Cherry was chosen to go south. He failed to meet the Polar Party; he and the dogs turned up back at the Discovery Hut exhausted, frostbitten, and unable to do any more work that season. Cherry spent a miserable purgatory in the hut with a strained heart and broken wrist, delirious on painkillers and tormented by the howling wind and fighting dogs, gradually coming to realise that his friends were never coming home.

When the Terra Nova finally left Antarctica for good, they left a large depot of food at Hut Point for whoever might come after, an act of generosity whose prescience was not long in the proving. Shackleton's Endurance Expedition is famous for the ship getting crushed in the ice and the last-chance boat voyage to South Georgia to find rescue. Fewer people know that that expedition had another half: a smaller contingent of men were sent to the Ross Sea to lay depots for the Endurance party to pick up as they crossed the Antarctic continent, which was the expedition’s original raison d’etre. They had what can only be described as a mindblowingly horrible time. It started with their ship being blown off its anchor at Cape Evans and out to sea before it had been fully unloaded, and got much worse from there. Winter clothing had to be improvised from a heavy canvas tent left by the Terra Nova Expedition, and they depended largely on the food that had been left at Cape Evans and Hut Point two years previously. By supreme effort they succeeded in laying the depots required of them, all the way to the Beardmore Glacier over 400mi/600km to the south, and suffered terribly from scurvy on the way back, one of them dying. The remainder narrowly scraped their way into the safety of the Discovery Hut, to recover their health and wait for the sea ice to freeze, but two decided prematurely that the greater comfort of Cape Evans was worth the risk, and set out over the new ice, never to be seen again. It turned out that their suffering was entirely in vain, as the Endurance party, whose survival they expected to depend on their depots, never so much as set foot on the Antarctic continent.

These are the layers of history with which the Discovery Hut, and all the geography of McMurdo Sound, are imbued. It was one of my great privileges, while a guest of the USAP, to be a portal to the Heroic Age for many people who were mostly unaware of what had passed before the building of the American station. It's harder to transmit the tangible immediacy of the history via the internet, but I hope this and the next post will get you some of the way there.

#history #discovery hut #mcmurdo sound #antarctica #antarctic history #discovery expedition #terra nova expedition #prefab architecture #discovery #heroic age #nimrod expedition #shackleton #captain scott

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ahnsael · 5 years ago

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My car is finally fixed!

Went to a local Auto Zone that advertises free tests of batteries, alternators, etc to diagnose problems like mine. It was a REAL quick test. “Yup, that battery is DEAD.”

He explained that new cars usually come with cheap batteries, and you’re lucky to get three years out of them (I got about 3½ out of mine).

I told him we did the same thing at Disneyland -- when you buy a light-up toy, odds are it comes with “Rocket” brand batteries, which we got (at the time) for about 1¢ each. And they would last maybe an hour or two (if you were lucky) before you’d notice your toy getting dimmer (granted, we brought LOTS of spare batteries out with us to sell these toys, so any guest that came up to say their toy didn’t last long, I’d explain that the batteries are indeed cheap and don’t last long but when they put better batteries in, the toy will last. And then I’d give them enough batteries to change them out four more times so the toy would last them through the next couple nights of use.

I spent an extra $30 (in theory -- read on) to get a better AGM battery (at least it’s better for my situation -- they tend to recharge faster and withstand extreme hot and cold temperatures, unlike normal car batteries -- and since most of my trips are four miles to or from work, that wasn’t long enough to recharge what battery power I spent on starting the car by the time I reached my destination. And since I work graveyard, my car is outside in sub-freezing temperatures all night this time of year).

The guy said he wasn’t trying to upsell me (he was TOTALLY trying to upsell me), but when I went with the more expensive option (and after we talked Disney for a few minutes -- I’m telling you, once in a while being a former cast member still pays dividends) he asked if I was a veteran and I said “No, but he is” and pointed at my stepdad who was in the Army, and the guy took $20 off the price on the spot, and then he said that he’d take another $10 off if we left the old battery with them (which, THANK YOU, because I don’t want an old car battery to try and figure out how to get rid of).

So in agreeing to spend $30 extra without hemming and hawing over it (I had actually looked at batteries over the past couple days and knew that everything he was telling me matched up with what I had read about AGM batteries vs the standard wet cell battery), I got this battery for the same price as the other one that he had which would fit my car.

No more having to jump-start my car every time I go to work, recharge my jump starter while working, and jump start the car again to get home! No more worrying that I can’t stop at the store on the way home because the store isn’t going to charge my jump starter for me and I may not be able to start my car again to get home. No more leaving the car running when I run into a convenience store and hope I see it if someone tries to get in and drive away.

And now I ramble (yeah, yeah, I hear you shouting “too late, you’re already rambling!” at your computer screen), so here’s a “read more.” Some of you who have followed me for less than two years may learn something about me at the end of this post that may change your perception of me, but since tumblr is the only place I’ve talked (albeit sparsely) about this particular thing. Those of you who know me well already know this unless you missed those posts.

I’ll still keep the jumper in the car “just in case” -- I just have to charge it every 30 days to keep it up to snuff. Plus, it may come in handy if a guest at the casino needs a jump. Though I should check with my boss on that; it may bring up liability issues that we would rather not deal with. I have a feeling that would be a no-go. We’re not even allowed to administer first aid, or even have a first aid kit, because of the liability if we “treat” someone and it goes south somehow. We just call for the ambulance (which I’ve only had to do twice -- once for a lady who fell out of her chair [never did find out why but she was alert and coherent and walked to the ambulance but DID want their help] and once for a guest who had a stroke while at a machine -- and didn’t want the paramedics, he wanted to keep playing video keno with his left hand since he couldn’t lift his right one (we did get him on a gurney, but he literally did not stop playing until paramedics put him on the gurney, and then I cashed him out and gave his money to one of the medics to give to him -- if a friend of his hadn’t told me that he wasn’t okay I wouldn’t have known because other than playing with his left hand when the “play” button is on the right side, he looked okay, but after she told me he needed help and I wasn’t sure if he did I sat down and talked to him and it became very clear that she was right but without asking him about it I would have never realized what was going on, but because she told me that she thought he was having a stroke, and the 9-1-1 operator walking me through some tests which confirmed it, it was caught in time that there was no lasting damage).

But I digress with work stories.

Now to the thing newer people may not know about. As some of you know, I did something REALLY not-smart a couple years ago (I got behind the wheel of a car when I had no business being behind the wheel of a car), and I’ve been dealing with the consequences since then. Nothing too terrible, all things considered (thankfully I didn’t hurt anyone or cause any damage), and finishing the worst part by serving the rest of my 48-hour jail sentence was over in August of 2018. In February of 2019, I was freed of my obligation to attend counseling after the counselor signed off on me not being a continued danger and not likely to re-offend (which I WILL NOT do -- the consequences get worse with successive infractions, and just ONCE was enough to teach me that, even if I hadn’t felt awful for putting my community at risk, the punishment is NOT worth deciding to go to Burger King when I should NOT be driving to Burger King -- fun fact: the Auto Zone I was at today is next door to that very Burger King which I was leaving when I was pulled over).

In August of last year, I was done with “alternative sentencing.” What that was, was I had to call the probation arm of the Sheriff’s Department EVERY SINGLE MORNING to see whether or not they wanted to test me for alcohol in my system (the judge had ordered me to drink ZERO alcohol for a year -- not even NyQuil if I was sick). If they were to find alcohol in my pee test, I had a warrant issued for my arrest. Granted, in May of last year, the head probation officer told me that I didn’t have to call anymore -- but I was subject to search or testing at any time (and they did show up at my house a few times to make sure I was still complying -- they still had to monitor me, but I didn’t have to call anymore because I had earned a degree of trust with them; also they were genuinely nice people and I got along well with them, so our positive relationship may have entered into it as well; when I was officially released from their rolls of “people to watch over,” I went in the day after the judge’s order had expired to verify that I was done with them, and the head guy shook my hand, said “you’re off our rolls,” and admonished me: “Don’t come back”).

But then there was the year of having an interlock device in my car. I didn’t reinstate my suspended license until January of 1999, and that’s when the year (ordered in my August 1998 sentencing) kicked in. It’s not “wait a year and then reinstate your license without having to do this;” it’s “once you reinstate your license, you must have this device in your vehicle for a year from THEN”).

It’s actually been 13 months now. But I wasn’t sure about the process of getting it removed. I asked about it the month before my year was up at the place where I have to get it calibrated once a month, and they said to call the interlock company (this is a car audio place that also handles interlocks, but not the interlock company themselves), and they would tell me how to “petition the court” to get it removed.

I did more research and the interlock company says they need the “monitoring authority’s permission” to allow the interlock to be removed. But they don’t say who the “monitoring authority is” (which is understandable as they are a nationwide company and state laws differ but even when I found a page that broke down the removal process state-by-state, it didn’t say who my monitoring authority was or what kind of “permission” I needed to obtain or how to get it).

But yesterday morning, I emailed the interlock company and the DMV to ask them about the removal. Surprisingly, the DMV got back to me first (still haven’t heard back from SmartStart -- edit, yes I have, see below).

But it was a reply to my email address from a person in the “Drivers License Assessment Team” saying that they had looked at my record and that I was good to come in and get the interlock restriction removed, and that that should be enough for the interlock people.

And, as I was writing this, I got an email from SmartStart saying “Please be informed that removal authorization is not needed if you have had device installed (1) one year from date of when your restricted license was reinstatement.” Grammar aside (”when your license was reinstatement?”), this actually contradicts what the web site says. But I think I’m going to the DMV tomorrow morning to get my restriction removed, and then I’ll call the car accessories store that I’ve been using and make an appointment for its removal (I may have to call SmartStart and have THEM schedule the appointment -- I replied to SmartStart’s email asking with whom I make the appointment, so we’ll see if they replay today).

But the one other major stress in my life is going away. Not that I’m afraid “I may be too drunk to drive” because THAT IS NOT HAPPENING AGAIN but that it has occasional errors, gives me an “ABORT TAMPER” message (which means it thinks I tampered with it somehow) when temps get below 20º, sometimes reboots itself mid-drive (it will test me after about 10 minutes of driving after I start, then about every 45 minutes thereafter to make sure I’m not drinking WHILE I’m driving). When I leave work on a cold morning, I could be sitting in my car for 4-5 minutes before the thing is ready for me to breathe into it -- as I sit there shivering, because without the engine on, the fan isn’t blowing in heated air, it’s just blowing in outside sub-freezing air (and frosting my interior windows as much as it had been outside before I scraped the ice off while waiting for the interlock to warm up).

So that other major stress will be gone soon, too. And then that whole nasty experience is behind me after two years, as long as I’m never stupid enough to do it again. And I do NOT plan on that. My thing is that...I have a co-worker who I used to offer rides to once in a while (I’m off 30 minutes before him, but sometimes I stay and gamble for a bit). He walks a couple miles to/from work. But he doesn’t know about my DUI, and I don’t want him to know about it. I did give him a ride ONCE since then when weather was particularly nasty, but I wend out and started my car while he played a daily tournament, and by the time he got to my car I had gotten it started after passing the breathalyzer. Then I just hoped that it wouldn’t test me before we got to where he lives (I hid the interlock under my seat while he was in there). Fortunately, it didn’t request a re-test until a few minutes after I had dropped him off.

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solia-dreams · 6 years ago

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Endings

17th January, 2013

The writing had always been on the wall, maybe since the first time she stepped into the basement office and shook his hand. In that moment, he'd both anticipated it and wondered how he might accelerate the inevitable – how quickly could he irritate, scare or otherwise deter the Bureau's handpicked goody-two-shoes?

He was glad now to have been so unsuccessful, to have sold her so far short, but ignoring the writing, even seeming to defy it for a blink or a lifetime or however long had passed, had not scrubbed the wall clean. The writing was still there, crisp like fresh ink in every argument, in every frustrated sigh, in every missed dinner, in every relieved smile and demand of "Where have you been?! I was worried." He saw it between the lines of blog posts he was still reading at 4am while she slept in the next room; he saw it in the barcodes of boarding passes as he took his seat on a last-minute whirlwind flight he'd forgotten to tell her about; he saw it in the hours she clocked up on her payslip.

Like all the best improbable scenarios, he wanted to believe. He was determined to believe that the writing and the wall could be beaten. Whenever he caught it out of the corner of his eye, which was less often than it should have been, in honesty – he definitely missed a lot of the wall's appearances, too distracted – he tried to jump on the opportunity to fight the inevitable.

To call home.

To switch off the computer and go to bed.

To make dinner.

And maybe those efforts were what staved it off, but retrospect gave him a brutal new perspective of his own flaws and the part they'd always played. His forgetfulness. His obsessive drive. His fundamental capacity to take her for granted.

So there was no shock for him when he saw the suitcase at the door and determined resignation in dry blue eyes.

He could have begged. Maybe he should have. But he'd known her for so long, pushed her so far, that he knew when not to bother, and he knew there was no winning this round. It had already been fought in the days, hours, minutes that he'd not been present, not been where he should have been, and nobody had won.

She swallowed and straightened when he stepped out of the bathroom, still towelling his hair. He froze, not because he was shocked but because why now, and he urgently thought through recent events to try and pinpoint the triggering moment. He'd forgotten to load the dishwasher, again. He'd spent money without asking her first, trying to get stolen military satellite images from a shady source he was sure she'd rather not know about. He'd forgotten to come to bed last night. He'd wasted the last three years of her life chasing after a 2012 conspiracy he was absolutely certain of that had, on the big night, turned out to be a total fizzer, and since then he'd been distant, moody, difficult, tense, frustrated, directionless.

So, nothing out of the ordinary.

Which meant, or at least so he deduced, that she'd finally worked out what he'd known all along: she was much too good for his shit, and she was done with it.

He was lucky to have had the years he'd gotten. He dropped his towel on the back of his armchair and she tightened her hand on the extended handle of her suitcase. He wondered vaguely what she'd decided to pack and what she'd decided to abandon, since less than half of her things could fit inside that. Starting over, clean and free. Like she deserved.

Later he'd wonder if she wanted him to beg, wanted him to plead, but he knew in the moment it wasn't going to stop her leaving so he chose to skip to the next line: "Where will you go?"

Deep eyes he would have comfortably looked into for the rest of his life briefly reflected her sharp hurt, then cooled instantly, and he knew it was the wrong thing to say. She shifted a little closer to the suitcase, like it was structural in keeping her upright.

"My mom's, to start with," she answered, very steadily, too steadily. She'd practised this monotone. This had been a long time coming. Not surprising. Her mouth twitched very slightly when she tried to close her lips, when she tried to finish speaking, but the rest of the words wanted to come. Conflicted, not wanting to elaborate but feeling somehow compelled, she added, "Then back to DC somewhere, I suppose."

Unable to break the habit of being clear and honest with him? Or just needing to be clear and honest in that she was leaving for real, and this was no weekend stay at her mother's? Either way, could she be any more carelessly hurtful?

"That'll shorten the commute," he offered emotionlessly. In his ears, over the sound of blood erratically rushing through their vessels, his voice sounded alien, not his. It was the voice of someone distant and uninvested, someone who didn't care for the opinion or favour of the person they were speaking to. That was the furthest possible place from the truth – that his chest hurt with every breath that brought him closer to the inevitable, that his brain was on fire running in circles trying to find a solution, that his throat was tight with unspoken words of anger and regret. But none of this was conveyed in the voice he heard, and none of this was conveyed to the face he had loved for so many of his years when she nodded slowly, resignedly.

"I suppose," she said again. She watched him for a few moments in silence, and he held her gaze, almost in challenge. What was she waiting for? For him to dissolve and break? No, he wasn't going to let her see that. Part of him didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

The other part didn't want to sway her resolve. She deserved to do this. It would be easier if it was clean. If he begged… if he cried, made her see how much he adored her, how much he needed her… if he won her back in this moment, it would be a mistake. He would only lose her again tomorrow, next week, next year, when he fucked up again.

No. He held her gaze, waiting her out, no expression to let her see into the cracks that were opening up inside him, no words to give away the voices that were screaming around his head. Hers was the loudest. You should have seen this coming. You could have changed your patterns of behaviour at any time. You knew what you had and now it's walking out.

"I, uh, I made a casserole," she said awkwardly, dropping her gaze. "To get you through the next couple of nights. It's in the fridge."

She'd been very prepared. He tried not to let that sting. It didn't, really; just reverberated against his hollowed heart, another dull throb to join the dull throb of his heartbeat.

"You don't think I can cook for myself?" It came out like an accusation, colder than he meant. Her eyes came back up to his.

"I know you can't," she replied calmly, and he allowed himself a small smile, because no one had ever known him better, no one had ever been this good for him and he'd ruined it. Even now he was letting it slide straight through his fingers. He closed his fist as though it could make a difference now, and felt his smile turn icy. Frozen and brittle, because if he didn't freeze it, it would melt down his face to the floor where he would join it.

"Well, I guess I'll have to learn," he responded in the same calm tone. Her lips thinned visibly, guilted, and while he so badly wanted her to change her mind right now he also so badly wanted her to stand her ground. Be the strong woman he knew she was. Get what she was owed after all these years, and strike back at the narcissistic, self-loathing creature she'd selflessly shackled herself to out of misplaced love and loyalty. He swallowed. It hurt. Keep it professional. "I'll forward your mail to Maggie's, then?"

She nodded quickly, following his lead back to the cool professionalism that would characterise their relationship for years to come. "Yes, please." She looked around the house, sucking her lower lip into her mouth as she tried to decide how to say the next bit. "I left everything I have so far on Harris on the kitchen table. I hope… I hope you find what you're looking for."

On your own. It was implicit, underneath her words, and he felt his cheeks redden with shame and realisation. This time, she wasn't going with him chasing shadows and unexplained flashes in the night. Finally, he'd burnt her out, and that night was the turning point. Harris, one of his contacts, had been instrumental in helping him pin down Billings, Montana, as a likely site of the invasion he'd spent so many years anticipating, but since December, he'd gone silent. No one from the conspiracy forum circuit seemed to know what had happened to him.

And, eyes dull and voice weary, his FBI girlfriend had agreed to run down some leads at work for him. If he'd been paying attention, he'd have seen that writing again, neon-bright – the same old wall, with the same message he'd been outrunning since day one in the basement.

I hope you find what you're looking for. He smiled again, brittle and forced again. He said, "Yeah, me too," instead of "I don't need to look. I've already got it," and shoved his hands into his pockets so he couldn't extend them to her. He kept his feet planted firmly. He watched her face, loving every curve and every line, and closed his hands into fists inside his pockets in an inner fight against the desire to cup her face with his palms and kiss her and tell her… tell her what? To stay? To put up with more? He wished he could ask that, and promise in return that he would make the changes in himself that he wanted to make to deserve her, but if he could have made those changes he would have. No. He'd done this to them. Later, later he could be mad with her, blame her for leaving him when he still needed her, believe that she played a part in breaking them or that she was weak and let him down, but right now, in the sobering clarity of the moment of her departure, he knew the whole truth. This was his own fault.

He had done this, and he deserved the clawing ache in his chest, and she deserved all the wide world that waited for her outside that door, even if that truth made him want to cry.

He cleared his throat. "So, uh, you said 'so far' with Harris…?"

"I'm still waiting on one contact to get back to me," she agreed, normality relaxing her voice. It gave him a little spark of optimism. They made good partners, worked superbly together, and if this was all they had left when the romance and sex and love was stripped back, well, it was sure as shit better than what most people were left with. "I'll make sure I pass on whatever he tells me. Should I… post it to you? Would that be best?"

The optimism died in his stomach, and he felt himself deflate. He was lying to himself. Their working relationship had always been something to brag about, but in actual fact, if that was what was left over when their relationship ended – which was mere minutes away, waiting to be marked by the second she walked out that door, he was only prolonging the inevitable here – then it would not be good enough at all. More than her brilliant mind at work, more than her excellent body in his bed, more than her hand in his, what he loved most about her was her friendship. He could do without everything else. Christ, he'd done without the sex for months now, without realising, caught up with his work and frustrations of the mind. The real loss he stood to experience was the loss of his best friend, the soul he trusted above any others, the heart who knew his, the person who had stood at his side and had his back and pulled him out of more trouble over the years than anyone but a best friend could be expected to put up with.

His best friend was leaving, asking whether she could contact him via post from now on.

He hadn't just burnt his lover; he'd unwritten his deepest friendship. How long before he unwrote himself?

"Whatever you think's best," he answered coolly. "Should I do the same if I find work I think is more yours than mine?"

"My phone number won't change," she said, quite gently, quite kindly, and he wanted to rekindle that sparkle of optimism but he didn't dare. He smiled wryly at her.

"You know they're tapping that line."

Her restrained sigh was one of exaggerated patience with his paranoia, one of her least favourite of his qualities. "They're not tapping my phone. You can call me whenever. You know I'll answer."

"Do I?" He couldn't help a deliberate glance down at her heavy-looking suitcase, the elephant in the room both had managed to avoid directly addressing. Her hand tightened again on the handle and her expression closed further. Eyes sharpening. Mouth thinning. The longer they stood here, the further away he drove her, and neither was even moving.

"I'm telling you I will," she said steadily, without warmth, "if it ever occurs to you to call."

Ouch. His surgeon cut through the pretence with medical precision and shone her harsh penlight straight at the malignant mass of brutal truth at the heart of this breakdown, and he felt the slice like it was made with a real knife.

"Neither will mine," he said finally, when he was certain his legs weren't going to give out beneath him. It had just struck him that this was really happening. She was really going. After all this time, this was happening. "My number."

She laughed, surprised. "Mulder, your phone number always changes."

"Not this one." He'd been prepared, too. Knowing this was coming. He unrooted his feet and made himself walk towards her, hoping his gait looked natural and comfortable, two things he felt anything but. "Give me your phone."

She was reluctant but produced her cell from inside her jacket and placed it without question in his hand when he stopped in front of her. He tried not to wonder whether he'd chosen an appropriate distance for exes. That's what they were about to be. He tried further not to wonder whether he would always notice how pliant she was with him, how her blind trust in him had not faded, how normal it still seemed despite their in-process breakup for her to do as he asked. Would that change next time he saw her? Would she question him where she hadn't before, be wary of him, refuse where once she would have followed without thought? Would he know her like he did in this moment?

Did he know her in this moment like he did in moments before? His Scully had never left him. He raised his eyes from her phone as he worked to survey her quickly. He saw the writing on the wall in the sad, tired lines around her eyes, in the red at their edges, and he saw the woman he'd loved and wanted and breathed for so damn long that he didn't even know how a future without her looked. He wanted to touch her hair and say this was a mistake; he wanted run his fingers across her lips and say he was sorry; he wanted stroke her cheek and promise that she'd adequately scared him and didn't need to go, that things could be different, he could change. Maybe it could be true. With her help maybe he could make it true.

But he handed her back the phone and let his heart crumple a little more at the sight of her wry smile to see the entry into her address book. "M. F. Luder," she read. She looked up at him sceptically, normalcy restored for a brief flicker that he cherished while it lasted. "Excellent cover. No one will ever guess that one."

"If you think of a better one, change it." He swallowed, wanting to prolong the normal, wanting to stretch out the gentle and the playful and the love for as long as he was allowed. "That number won't get recycled. That phone will always be charged up, always be switched on." He swallowed again. Say it. "For you."

It swayed her, he could tell, made the writing on the wall fade to the periphery. He saw her expressive blue eyes fill with regret and apology and saw her mouth open, struggling for words to say amidst her inner conflict. He knew her in this moment, he knew her fully. Her mind was saying go. Her heart was tugging her against all logic, against all sense, back to him, and pushing her to stay. God, he wanted her to listen to that voice, like she had every other day of their lives together.

"Won't… won't it be trackable?" she asked, shaking her head to get some clarity. Her hair, which he'd always loved, so vibrant, fanned at the motion, catching morning light from the windows. He'd remember that in the days to come, sitting here drunk and delirious and ruined with this one memory of her hair reflecting red sunlight. "Isn't that why you burn through all the others and jump between numbers?"

Impulsively he touched her hair. She flinched; it was unexpected. He let the strands fall between his fingers. He might not get another chance to feel its softness, its familiar texture, and he wished he could take back every opportunity he'd missed to touch it.

"No one else has this number," he answered. "I haven't given it to anyone, so no one can track it." Heart thudding, probably pumping blood straight out of the holes they'd cut in the organ with this conversation, he shifted his fingers to her mouth. He felt her sharp intake of breath, waited for her to pull away, but she didn't. Best to say it now, then, before he lost his nerve. "If you ever need anything, I'll answer. I'll…"

I'll be there. But he couldn't say it. The words got stuck, his concentration trapped in the overwhelming sensory overload of her. The softness of her lips under the pads of his fingers. The familiar smell of her skin and clothes and hair. The brightness of her beautiful eyes, exactly as sad as he knew his must be. They had invested so much into this, and now… He swallowed again. He heard it, that and her shallow breaths. Their age-old chemistry mesmerised him and he could tell it was the same for her. It would have been no effort to lower his mouth to hers, to start that fire, to wrap his arms around her and lift her, to run his hands through her hair and feel hers in his, to push her against the wall and get his hands under her clothes, to get them off, to unzip his…

Instead, he brushed his fingers from her mouth to her cheek. His body fought every muscle twitch of his exercise in restraint.

"I know," she said finally, and he knew she did, and that understanding hurt even more than relinquishing what would have been excellent sex. She knew he would be there whenever she needed it, she knew what she was to him, she knew his devotion was incapable of compromise or degradation and that he would be ever loyal to her… and she was leaving anyway.

She was leaving.

And she wasn't going to call, because she had made up her mind in all those moments he'd made it up for her. The phone calls he hadn't made, the seduction attempts he'd dismissed because he was too focused, the irritable words he'd spoken when he was frustrated with his work and not with her. She wasn't going to call. Why would she want to?

"And, you know, if you ever need help with a case," he added, casually, dropping his hand and hoping it would take the magnetic tension with it. She nodded, channelling professionalism again.

"Right. Of course. Well, hopefully I won't need you for that. I'm not working the X-Files, remember, just Counterterrorism." She looked at him oddly. "I'm done."

I'm done. Not just with him, but with what they'd worked on together. That shocked him more than the fact that he was leaving him. "But… all our work…"

"Your work now," she said, looking much less sad about this, more certain. "I'm done with it. No more dead-end conspiracies and skygazing and inexplicable phenomena."

"It was never about that," he argued, annoyed now. Annoyed that she could whittle it down to such meaningless base elements. "Fighting for the truth, Scully, shining a light on what men with power will do with secrets they shouldn't have and making visible the people they hurt along the way."

"That's what you're upset about," she noted, cold again. "That I'm leaving the work, not that I'm leaving you."

I'm leaving you. There, the words, out in the room for them both to cringe at, peeled straight from the wall. He felt a surge of shame and rage.

"Yes!" he fumed, though there was so much more he should have said to better detail the depth of his brokenness. "That's what we stand for."

"That's what we stood for," she corrected, and he remembered the suitcase at her side. "I can't do it anymore, Mulder. From now on I stand for fighting evil that can be beaten. Don't fight me on it, Mulder," she interrupted him when he tried to disagree. "I have already given it everything I had, and it's still not done." She left the details unsaid but he heard them. Her sister. A daughter she'd not been given the chance to know. Their son. Twenty years of her life. And him, lost to her somewhere along the way, too caught up in the work to be what she deserved. "I'm done."

He stood there, rocked to his core. He really was alone. He looked from the suitcase to her face and couldn't help the cold smile that stretched, unforgiving, across his lips. "You're giving up."

It hurt her, he could tell. But she shook her head and muttered, "Whatever. It was a good fight but it's over and it's not having me." She hoisted the heavy-looking suitcase to turn it around. "I should go."

"Do you want me to carry that to the car for you?" he asked, though once he would have taken it without question. He extended a hand, hating that he was questioning his own behaviour around her already, but she raised hers to stop him.

"No. I want to do it myself. Thank you." She opened the door and took a deep, unsteady breath. "Good luck, Mulder. Take care of yourself."

Don't leave. Stay. Take care of me. Love me. I love you. I'm sorry. Please. I need you. You're everything. I don't know who I am without you. I can change. I can be better. I can take us back to better times. Just don't go.

All the best option words did not come through, and he said only, "Yeah. Sure," and she nodded resolutely, a transaction completed, and turned away to leave.

To leave.

"Scully." His voice made her stop and look back. Was that sparkle in her eye the beginnings of tears? "You… You too. Take care."

She nodded again, but with the traces of that soft smile of hers this time, and he knew it was the right thing to say. Permission to go and find herself. A clean break, on good terms, because that was the least of what they deserved.

"Thank you," she murmured, and he knew she understood.

"Just… one more thing," he made himself say, though it came out uneven, ragged. "I know, after this minute ends, you won't be with me anymore." It cut deep to say aloud. He wanted to stop, but there was something he needed to hear, and he needed to bleed first to be allowed to ask it. "I know. But…" He didn't even know how to phrase it, or whether she would get what he was asking. Her glistening eyes held him in their longing gaze while he struggled, and god, he loved her. How could this be ending? "But even if you aren't with me, are you still… with me?"

It made no sense. He wasn't certain even he knew what he had just asked, except that he knew it was a big ask and he might not like the answer. Was she still on his side, when push came to shove? Was she still going to keep his every secret, the lockbox of trustworthiness he'd fallen in love with? Did she still have his back when it counted, as only best friends do? Did she still believe in him? She stared at him, processing, struggling, halfway out the door. Halfway gone.

But she stepped back inside. She left her suitcase on the porch and came back in. She raised her hands to her neck and felt for something under her hair. She stopped right in front of him and reclasped her necklace, then looked up at him.

He felt twenty years of need and want and love and trust and friendship and wholeness in the hold of her gaze, and felt the equivalent emptiness waiting just beneath it, ready to crush him, ready to end him when she ended them. She took his hand, squeezed it gently, and coiled the chain in his palm. She closed his fingers over the necklace. The gold was still warm from her body heat.

Her voice was cracked and loaded when she spoke.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

She left quickly after that, eager not to let him see the tears as they fell though how could he miss that, and before he could get a handle on the moment it was over and the door was closing behind her, and her car was starting and she was gone, she was gone, and he was still standing where she'd left him.

Drawing a ragged breath before his own tears spilled, he opened his hand. There in his palm was the golden crucifix Maggie had given her daughter as a girl, the delicate gold chain he'd found when she was abducted by Duane Barry and again when she'd been stolen away to Antarctica. Both times he'd kept it close while she was missing, while he worked tirelessly to find a way to bring her back into his life. Both times he'd found her and given it back and their lives together had resumed.

Slowly, heavily, he dropped into his armchair, ignoring the damp towel that tumbled onto his shoulder. He stared at the little ray of hope she'd left him through glassy wet eyes. He wondered how deeply he could read into this. He raised his eyes to the blank wall opposite him and felt the hollowness of his loss and wondered whether the tiny cross could defy the truth he'd been avoiding for two decades.

The writing had been on the wall since the first moment. She was always going to leave.

The cross said something else, a message he'd listened to before only in the darkest moments of peril but which should have been his life's mantra. She can be found but she has to be earned.

He closed his hand over the cross, heart aching, and let the tears come.

This is the 44th chapter of my X-Files fic This Is How The World Ends, which you can read on AO3 and FF. MSR, slow burn, post-IWTB, alternative events of S10/11 ignoring most of what happened in the revival episodes. Novel-length.

#fictober #x-files fanfic #x-files #msr #angst

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injaninja9 · 6 years ago

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On Loneliness: Getting Over My Snow Queen Complex

Last time I blogged, I wrote about my dating history and how it has been a disaster for a Hermit like me. While I went over said dating history, I have mentioned that there is more to the story of "J" compared to the rest. Before I open that can of worms, I'd like to talk about the Snow Queen Complex that I had. To understand what I mean, you would have to read Hans Christian Andersen's story The Snow Queen. For the sake of clarity, I will provide an abridged retelling of the story. It starts off with a sprite, who forges a mirror in hell that, when gazed upon, will reflect the worst attributes of whatever is reflected. Being the mischievous bugger he is, the sprite has the idea to take the mirror to Heaven and show it to God. Except the sprite is clumsy, and he drops the mirror on the way to Heaven. When it hits the ground on Earth, it shatters into a million pieces, which fly around the world. Enter two orphans, a boy and a girl. When the girl goes on an errand, the boy gets hit by two shards of the mirror: one in the eye, and one in the heart. With the shard in the eye, the boy sees the world in the worst possible light. With the shard in his heart, he heart turns cold, and his personality changes accordingly. After a fight with his sister, the boy runs away and gets taken away by the titular Snow Queen, who promises a place for the boy to belong. The girl goes on a journey to find her missing brother, and eventually learns that the Snow Queen has him. Upon reaching the Snow Queen's Castle, the girl finds her brother on the Snow Queen's lap, freezing to death by her cold embrace. The girl pleads the boy to leave and come back to her side, breaking down in tears out of frustration that her brother isn't listening. One of her tears flushes out the mirror shard in his heart, restoring the boy's heart. He in turn cries, and flushes the mirror shard in his eye, restoring his vision to normal. With their heartfelt reunion, the boy and girl go home and live a happy life again. If you don't understand the point of this story, I didn't either at first. But then J came into my life. I met J through OKCupid. We had a compatibility rating in the 90+% range, similar interests in hobbies, and he studied in a well regarded university in Canada. We started messaging each other through OKCupid before moving on to Facebook. Looking back, it wasn't so much the both of us talking to each other so much as me asking him questions to get to know him; he never asked questions about me at all really. However, that didn't stop my heart from growing fond for him. After a few weeks of this, he sent a message saying that he wanted to remain single, and he wanted to stop talking to me, even going so far as to apologize for leading me on. Naturally, I was frazzled by this; why the fuck would you go on a dating site if you never had any interest in dating in the first place?! But I gave him the benefit of the doubt and gave him a few weeks of silence before asking him if he would like to start over as platonic friends. When he said no, that was when it felt like I had two mirror shards hit me in the eye and heart; I began my downward spiral towards cynicism, yet I still clung to hope that someone would be there to rescue me from my despair. Each rejection I got in my futile attempts at dating only made things worse, and on some days I felt like the Snow Queen herself was embracing me towards death itself. Not even scrubbing J's existence from my like did anything to help. Fast forward to about two weeks ago. I was seeing my therapist for my final session because I felt that her advice to deal with my loneliness wasn't working. When I talked a bit about J, however, she presented a possibility that somehow switched something in my mind: J was probably a liar. By all rights, this should have angered me; it implied that J was intentionally wasting my time to play around with my little heart like a glass yo-yo. And yet, the way it was framed in my mind made me realize that he never deserved my good graces in the first place, and that I dodged a bullet by not meeting him in person in the first place. I felt like that the cancer that plagued me with emotional pain was plucked out in one mere sentence. You might be wondering (or not if you don't care about me at all, which I don't blame you) about where it leads me to now. There are some good things and bad things to come out of getting out of my Snow Queen Complex. First, the good: I've realized that my happiness cannot be dependent on other people, and that I need to find what makes me happy to be happy. The important aspect of this is that now I feel I have some direction through which I can find my Purpose, and that I have intrinsic goals to work toward. Next, the bad: the damage has already been done on the psychological level by my complex; I used to believe in the romantic ideal of soulmates, but that eventually turned into bitter envy against every living couple I meet because they have something I believed I never could have: romantic love. Even now, I question if romance is even real, and I have so little faith that there is "the one" for me out there. No one rescued me with love (or even wanted to for that matter) when I felt my worst; I only got out of my complex due to a simple shift in thinking on my own. Am I going to shun potential suitors and die as a Hermit? I don't think so. What it all means is that I need a great deal of convincing that there is, in fact, a soulmate for me; this whole ordeal has led me to believe that the only person I can count on to help me is me myself alone, since no one arrived to wash the mirror shard from my heart. To convince me otherwise will require one simple thing that I've never really had from any of my failed attempts at a relationship: genuine goddamn interest in me as a human being. Think about it: the entire time I talked to J should have also been about J trying to get to know me too, and the actual one-sided conversation provided the fuel that was unrequited fondness; the final rejection was the spark that ruined me. Do I feel hopeful at all about my prospects? As I said, the psychological damage has already been done; I still see everything in the worst possible light, even if my heart is just beginning to heal. At this point, I would rather pour my energy into my creative projects than to deal with possible flakes (which is everyone, as far as I see). I think the moral of this story is that if I am to actually discover the joy of romantic love, I want to see that the potential suitor in question has a genuine interest and attraction towards me, lest it's all a waste of time. If not, then leave me the hell alone. I'm no longer afraid to die alone in this shithole of a world; if you wish to be there to lay me to rest, it's your interrogative to be my guest, but take the time to know what you're getting into first.

#On Loneliness #I know this ending got dark but it's part of my very being as of now #How about this as a semi-comedic thing: I can't spell the name of the fairytale author because I'm not Dannish

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maybeignoreme-blog · 6 years ago

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Hey. Maybe the Internet IS Helpful

The internet is a hateful place. You know it. I know it. It’s pretty much a fact. So many weird/bad things have come out of the creation of the internet. That ‘me gusta’ meme for example.

(Know Your Meme)

(Seriously why did we let that go on for so long) Or Jake and Logan Paul.

Think about it. If we didn’t have the internet D*nald Tr*mp would have no platform for his hate speech. But sometimes the Internet produces some really great things. Vine (may she rest in peace), those random websites that let you stream movies for free, the Wendy’s Twitter account. The internet allowed Ariana Grande’s “Thank u, next” to go certified platinum. It’s beautiful really.

Another bonus, the internet has this really cool ability to connect everyone in the world. Facebook has 1.49 BILLION users (click that link if you don’t believe me). Think about that for a second. BILLION. B-I-L-L-O-N. ~21% of the world’s population is on Facebook.

So all that super awesome internet connectivity has to amount to some good, right? Yeah! It has. The internet has proven to be revolutionary in terms of increasing the outreach and influence of new social movements. At the same time, however in some ways, these movements are slightly less effective than the ones in the past.

I’m gonna focus on Twitter because I actually use that site and it’s pretty much the birthplace of the New Civil Rights Movement. Twitter rebirthed and rebranded activism. Literally every issue on earth is at your fingertips and with a few keystrokes, boom. Anyone can be part of the conversation.

So here’s the downside. According to a USA Today article “77 percent [of people surveyed] believe social networks can distract from issues that are really important, and 71 percent agree that “social media makes people believe they’re making a difference when they really aren’t” – a phenomenon more commonly known as ‘slacktivism’” (Simon, 2018).

USA Today writer Caroline Simon isn’t alone. In her dissertation Nadine Barnett-Cosby had this to say: “Some scholars argue that online activism is an asset or supplement to real-life activism, particularly for younger users who may not otherwise engage, others argue that it is a major deterrent from active behavior because it can create “the false sense of making a difference and undermines real-life activities” (Milosevic-Dordevic & Zezelj, 2016, p. 118)” (Barnett-Cosby, 52).

It’s easy to see where all this comes from. To be completely honest I’ve been guilty of slacktivism. Most of the time I just scream into the void that is my Twitter feed without really doing anything. I sign the petitions but I don’t pay money to fund them. I retweet the posts but I don’t go to the rallies. (No one ever wants to admit that but like...who’s gonna fight me)

What is digital activism anyway? In his dissertation, Tyler Goodridge puts it best. “Digital activism is both static and fluid; it can function as awareness building on an online forum, mobilizing large groups of people through digital campaigns, or using one’s personal social media account to support or promote a social concern” (Goodridge, 11). Basically that means that digital activism is unique as opposed to other more traditional forms of activism. The internet allows more people to become educated be a part of a movement.

Another thing people worry about with movements like Black Lives Matter is the lack of a key figure. In the past there were leaders. Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Marsha P. Johnson.

They were figureheads that people could rally around. Online movements tend not to be structured that way.

However “the suggestion that the organizations that have emerged from the Black Lives Matter protests are somehow lacking because they have rejected the old style of leadership misses what makes this movement most powerful: its cultivation of skilled local organizers who take up many issues beyond police violence” (Ransby, 2017). By not having a centralized figurehead movements like Black Lives Matter have been able to have leadership groups that can better work to help their communities under the banner of this huge movement. The e-generation is one that rejects tradition.

But great power comes great responsibility (or something like that). At the same time this non-traditional stance we have with modern activism can sometimes backfire. Movements can become too big. In his dissertation Kyle Chapman says about the #NoMakeupChallenge “What began as a movement intended to promote solidarity, femininity, and cancer research essentially devolved into a platform for egotism and narcissism” (Chapman, 44); which is pretty much a harsh way to say the movement was co-opted and its focus shifted from breast cancer awareness to how cute someone is without makeup (I’ll admit I thought the no makeup challenge was a way for people with clear skin to show off tbh).

That’s just one example. Remember the Ice Bucket Challenge? People dumped freezing water on top of their heads. It made a lot of funny videos. For example:

youtube

(Crey Crey, ‘*NEW VINES* EPIC ALS Ice Bucket Fail’) People got more caught up in the comedy than in the message behind the challenge. It was supposed to ‘simulate’ how ALS patients feel to raise awareness (and money) but it turned into a meme.

Such is the danger of the internet.

But Black Lives Matter has proven to be different. #BlackLivesMatter has proven not to be a fad. It began in 2012 with the death of Trayvon Martin. It garnered more momentum after Zimmerman wasn’t convicted. Black Lives Matter was catapulted back into the spotlight when Michael Brown was shot. This time it became a viral thing. By analyzing tweets from the beginning of 2014 to the end of November 2014 there were roughly 66,159 tweets about #BlackLivesMatter (Ince et. al), 45,844 of which were posted after Darren Wilson wasn’t indicted. Even more, these weren’t all just tweets. There were rallies and protests and petitions.

Black Lives Matter is a fluid movement that adapts with the time. Unlike #occupywallstreet (who was she anyway) or the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, #BLM has managed to outlast the Internet’s 5 second attention span and has continually made changes IRL.

Anyway I’m gonna finish this up. If you’re going to take anything away from this it’s that you shouldn’t let old people tell you that you’re not doing enough because you’re not marching in the streets and getting arrested. Awareness can be just as powerful as direct action because oftentimes awareness can inspire action. Although maybe you should donate to your local organizations just to be safe.

If you’re broke (Me. I’m calling myself out) or don’t know who to donate to or just don’t don’t want to donate you can always speak to people about issues. Creating a dialogue can be just as helpful as going to rallies. Holiday season is coming up kiddos. Call out your racist uncle. Correct your homophobic cousin.

To be completely honest most of the people you try to talk to won’t take you seriously but those whose minds you do change will be better for it. I mean come on, how cool is it to have bragging rights for converting your problematic family members? Even a little bit of change is good. Bring attention to marginalized groups even if it doesn’t affect you directly.

No, especially if it doesn’t affect you directly. You don’t have to be black to raise awareness about Black Lives Matter. You don’t have to be trans to advocate for trans rights. If you, yes you, incorporate those little changes you learned online to the real world you can make a change. Knowledge. Pass it on.

#ignore this #don't fight me #this is for school #i'm jus tryna get my degree

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ecstilson-blog · 3 years ago

Photo

I decided to live life to the fullest, so Mike trepidatiously pulled our bikes from the garage. We rode to Edson Fitcher, a nature preserve where the kids love using the rope swing while Mike and I sit and watch an area that seems forgotten by time. While the kids were off playing, Mike and I slowly rode past the main body of water, and I saw some movement less than ten feet from us. I carefully stopped and staying quiet. “Mike,” I whispered, “I just saw two otters!” It seemed like the most magical moment ever—I rode a bike AND saw otters! So, Mike and I sat on the ground. The tumors in my back and hip had begun aching something fierce, but I wouldn’t have moved for anything in the world because the otters popped up again and put on a show for us! They jumped and played. One even stole a fish from a fisherman—that made my day but ruined his, what a dichotomy! As I watched the otters, I suddenly just broke down and cried so hard on the edge of the water. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” “It’s just that one doctor this week said I’ll never get better, but regardless, everything is about to change. The kids all still live with us, and they’re so darling. You’ve seen the kids at the rope swing! They’ll be old before we know it. I know I’m sick, but things are actually so good for two seconds. We’re all so happy.” I sobbed. “I just want to appreciate every moment. I wish we could freeze this entire time in our lives—keep these moments forever.” Mike held me. I knew dirt covered both of us, but I loved being held right there by the magical otters who seemed to know that I needed them. Not long after that, I received a message from an artist I know through Facebook. “Hi, Elisa. I hope you’re doing well. I’ve been following your story. I’m writing because I painted a photo you posted quite a while ago. I was so struck by the image… Let me know if you’d like to see it.” Imagine my surprise when he sent me a scene of my two youngest kids from Edson Fitcher! He’d captured a moment for us, something I’d hoped we could somehow freeze in time! To see more of John’s artwork, visit his site: www.artisfortheheart.com https://www.instagram.com/p/CcJGlogPEhw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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fenvincible · 7 years ago

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I wrote a thing.

I’ve been inspired by @writergrump‘s merman Arin AU. It’s super cool and I”m sure everybody in the fandom so far has read it, if you haven’t give it a moment and do so. anyway, I was inspired and this inspiration took flight, they’re completely to thank for the fact that I’ve spent the greater part of the last two weeks researching the ocean and working on this! It’s my work but deeply inspired by them and their themes. This is the first thing I’ve written for egobang, and if enough people like it I will continue and publish the rest! Thank you. 🖤

Fatigue, heavy and hard, settled into his bones. He pumped his arms ferociously, feeling the freezing water suck the energy out of him, but still he pumped his arms and kicked his legs. The sunlight refracted through the water, but it wasn’t warm. He was still so far below the surface, fighting wasn’t helping as his body was continually pulled down. His lungs and fingertips burned from the lack of oxygen. Though the energy was sapping out of his body as he floated further from the surface he continued to swing his arms and kick his legs. He needed air.

An exasperated yell escaped his lips but the ocean cut him short. Sea water eagerly, happily, filled Dan’s mouth and lungs, leaving the taste of salt on every surface it caressed. He was giving up. The lack of oxygen made life just fuzzy enough Dan didn’t realize he had stopped fighting the inevitable. Just as the haze in his vision was closing, the lack of oxygen causing him to black out, I see what looks like an angel. An angel with a tail? Sunshine blonde hair floating around their head, strong arms pushing me towards the surface, and a beautiful tail. Glistening in shades of purples and blues. I see a smile before the blackness takes over.

Dan woke harshly, his breath burning his throat. Hair damp and body covered in the thin film of a cold sweat, almost like he had just been dragged from the ocean again. As Dan’s breathing slowed he practiced the grounding techniques he used in the years following his near drowning.

In the sublime dusk of the early morning Dan looked slowly around his room. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around.

“I see, a book, my favorite shirt on the ground, phone on the charger to my right, my computer on the desk in front of me, the picture of Debbie and Avi from last Thanksgiving.” Dan states, just above a whisper.

“I can touch my blankets, my pillow, my hair, and if I’m lucky an awesome pair of boobs.

I can hear the birds singing, the grandfather clock in the hall, my neighbors fucking dog, like it isn’t balls early in the fucking morning.

I can smell the soap from my shower last night, and the coffee that started automatically brewing this morning.” Dan took a deep breath in,

“Speaking of the coffee, I can already taste it.” Dan whispered, the cycle finished as he threw back the blankets and made his way to his bathroom.

A quick moment later and Dan was standing in the hot jet of water. The dream quickly fading from his mind as he grasped at the smoky tendrils. All children had a near death experience, Dan thought. As he guided the soap frothed towel across his chest and down his arms. His was weird, he still feels the arms pushing him he still sees the plump pink lips. Dan spent years drawing and coloring the blue-purple tail that he associated with his savior. He understood what the doctors and his parents said. He has excitedly swam too far out, he got swept up in the current, his head was fuzzy as the buildup of carbon dioxide in his lungs drove his brain into insanity. He imagined the water angel, later classified by Dana as they conspired together as a mermaid, as he was miraculously able to break away from the current and swim to the surface.

As he worked the towel down his legs and rinsed off the lingering bubbles Dan thought about the aftermath of his near drowning. His fascination with the ocean, with the aquatic life he was sure he had seen. Instead of developing a fear of the water, as some might do after nearly drowning, Dan had become fascinated, obsessed really. He excelled in the sciences throughout elementary school. Soared through his earth sciences classes in high school and got a scholarship to the University of California – Los Angeles. Here he began majoring in marine biology. His passion only growing year after year as he got involved with more sciences and formulated research theories.

Now, in his final year of his undergraduate degree, Dan had the most coveted research opportunity in the entire school ahead of him. It wasn’t only due to his hard work, assuming that would be a lie. Dan knew, and thought about it with a smile, that his ability to be on the receiving end of this grant, was because of his bond with the physics professor.

Dr. Brian Wecht was a strict looking man approaching his tenure at the University. With a PhD in physics and his interest in the ocean he had become one of Dan’s favorite professors. They had bonded quickly over late nights in the labs and theories on what types of life would succeed in the deepest parts of the ocean. When applying for the Universities largest yearly grant to investigate the depths of the ocean Dan had needed a professor to vouch for him. Brian offered to vouch as well as assist Dan in his application process. Without Brian’s help, Dan was sure he would have lost the grant to a graduate student researching something stupid, like the mating habits of dolphins. No, Dan wanted to research something real, and Dan’s research started today.

By the time Dan was in the kitchen enjoying his coffee and a bagel his phone had been blown up. He had several texts from Brian and the other student on the research project, Suzy.

Pumped?! Was all Suzy had sent, but her excitement was clear through the messaged.

Like Ron Jeremy’s dick! Dan quickly replied, knowing Suzy was probably on her way to the site.

Brian had sent several

Hey super butt baby

Wait was that professional?

Fuck it

I hope you’re ready

We are gonna start this project today

So call me daddy and get your ass down here ASAP

Dan giggled quietly, finishing his bagel. As he typed out a reply to Brian, sometimes it’s impossible to believe the man has a wife, a child and a literal fucking PhD.

That’s not at all professional, Wecht. Be there in a minute.

Though early morning LA traffic was peaceful Dan knows that within forty-five minutes the freeways will be backed up and a fifteen-minute commute will suddenly take an hour. He was thankful that Brian had insisted they be on site before the sun was even up, preferring to get a head start on anything that might go wrong. The man was childish but brilliant, Dan thought as he pulled his car into the beach front area reserved by the University for the research students.

“Dan! Hey!” Suzy shouted, almost tackling Dan in her excited hug. Dan might be considered brilliant by some peers and professors, if that was the case Suzy was a genius. She graduated high school a year early and entered the University at the age of 17 having already completed a year and a half worth of credit hours. She was two years younger than Dan but also a senior looking into grad schools. Her long black hair was only changed by the violet streak she kept. Face only marked by the eyeliner she somehow did every day, making her look as alluring as Cleopatra must have.

“Are you ready? Are you excited? I got you a tea” Suzy handed Dan a warm paper cup that radiated warmth and the calming scent of Earl Grey.

“I think I’m ready. I know I’m excited, I got up before my alarms. Thank you, what did I do to deserve you Scuze?”

“You still don’t, but if you’re lucky you can earn if after today.” Suzy laughed. Leading the way to the pier, where Brian stood. She dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, good choices since the morning chill was still lingering, made worse by the cold ocean stretching out in front of them. Brian, on the other hand, looked stern as always. Blue eyes constantly assessing and taking in the world around him. Slacks and a navy button up completed the look of stern professor. The façade was broken the moment Brian saw Dan though.

“Hey dick.” Brian broke into a smile, shifting his features harsh to soft and fun. “Are you ready to be in the water?”

Dan nodded excitedly, hair bouncing wildly, beyond ready to utilize the Universities multimillion dollar submarine. Behind the layers of science and research questions that has brought him here, basically he was just a kid with a want to go deep into the ocean and see some cool fucking shit.

“Bet your ass! I am beyond ready, I am so wet for this.” Dan walked slightly behind Brian and Suzy as they moved down the pier, toward the submarine waiting for them. Ironically the University had painted the entire submarine banana yellow, when Dan had laughed and pointed out the relevance to the Beatles song released in the 60s Dean Terry had given him a blank stare. He realized the color of the submarine wasn’t inspired by John Lennon before he quietly sat through the rest of the meeting with Dean Terry.

The submarine was fantastic and huge. Large enough to fit two people though today only Dan would be going down. A plethora of buttons and levers, gauges and displays ran over the front of the sub. Measuring everything from temperature, to depth, pressure levels. Tools to grab samples and take pictures were available. Today Suzy, Brian and Danny had gathered to take the sub as deep as they possibly could. The goal was a depth of about 3,500 feet, the ocean floor near California, if they got the submarine to that level with no issues their next mission would put them in Guam, to explore Mariana’s Trench.

“Are you ready, man?” Brian inquired? Looking at Dan as Suzy went over the submarine, doing one of three more checks the team would do before Dan went under.

“I- I think so. I had the nightmare again last night man. But, I want to do this. I need to do this.” Dan had told Suzy and Brian about his childhood, the time he nearly drowned and how that affected his life. “I’m gonna- gonna go change real quick.”

Dan ran to the bathroom, taking less than a moment to change into a wetsuit, preparing for the worst case scenario. When he exited Suzy had finished her check of the submarine and Brian was having his go at it. Dan watched as the man moved methodically, going over every gauge, lever and reading in the submarine before checking the steering and controls. Finding those satisfactory he moved to the oxygen tanks and “just in case equipment stored in the submarine. Checking the pressure gauges to ensure they were working once more Brian gave a contended hum before nodding to Dan.

“I think it’s ready for you.”

Dan jumped into the submarine, feeling the water craft bob under his added weight as it adjusted. Dan checked his gauges and dials, everything fell within the required areas. The oxygen tank was full and the equipment where he could grab it quickly if things went awry. With a last, precautionary verbal check with Suzy and Brian they were finally ready.

Dan was going to dive into the deep.

The descent started normally, the readings remained well within their limits. Pressure gauges weren’t indicating any issues. Dan continued slowly. 250 feet, 500 feet. The pressure in the cabin remained stable. Oxygen levels were good. Dan started looking around. His goal was to simply descend and ascend safely, proving that the craft was ready for their trip to Guam.

“Earth to ‘Sexbang’ I’m thinking a certain scientist forgot to check in with his anxious team.” Suzy’s voice broke through Dan’s thoughts as he took in the sights around him.

“Right Scuze. I’m sorry. Readings look solid on my side. Is the camera feed okay?”

“Camera feed is fantastic. Our readings look good. How are you feeling?” This time the voice was Brian’s, playfulness gone from his tone. Dan imagined him starting at the feed, icy blue eyes roaming the screen as they took in what Dan was seeing and looked for what Dan might miss.

“I’m good. Oxygen is still filtering in well, not yet stuffy. We should add a music player to this damn submarine. I could really go for some Rush right now. Sing to me Brian?”

“In your dreams.”

Dan giggled, once again thankful for the automatic bond he had felt in Brian’s presence and for Suzy, a glue allowing them to get work done while having fun.

“I’m continuing descent. Looks like we are at 1,500 feet now. I think when we get to Guam we should start with margaritas on the beach.”

“I’m only investing in those if Holly gets to come. I’m sure there’s a bird or two there she will be excited to meet.” Suzy added. Always ready to spend more time with Holly. Nothing was written in stone yet, but Dan was sure they were more than friends and roommates like they said.

“I’ll appeal to the dean to allow Holly to come if you let us have one really nice evening on the beach, no paperwork.” Dan said as his descent reached 2,000 feet. Already imagining the fun they would have in Guam.

“Deal.” Suzy’s voice was distracted. Dan heard shuffling as Suzy and Brian moved around the temporary set up.

Time seemed to slow down as things went from great to terrible.

The oxygen levels in the submarine dropped. The cabin erupted into a shrill wine as a red light bathed the dash in front of Dan. Something was wrong.

“D-Dan! Dan, what’s happening?” Brian’s voice was brisk but concerned. The concern was enough to raise the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck.

“I- Brian. I don’t know. All of my readings are fine. They’re not coming across as alarming. What about yours?”

“Everything is good here Dan. Come back up. Slowly. Don’t go any further down. Come back up now.” Suzy’s voice was stern, using the mothering tone she often used when Dan and Brian got out of hand.

“Yeah, I- uh, okay. Yeah.” Dan’s descent had just taken him nearly 2,300 feet below sea level. He was sure only a few seconds had passed, maybe even only one second before Dan heard a popping sound he knew wasn’t good.

“Shit.” Was all Dan heard before water was rushing into the submarine. He didn’t have a spare moment to grab the oxygen. He didn’t have a moment to think.

The water didn’t slow, didn’t hesitate as it rushed into the submarine, filling every space. The water didn’t hesitate as it pushed Dan, hard, to the side knocking his head against the metal siding of the submarine. The water didn’t hesitate as it began to fill Dan’s lungs and his vision faded to blackness.

When Dan woke his lungs were still burning with the sting of salt water. Brian and Suzy leaned over him, concern written over their faces.

“Dan! Oh my god.” Suzy gushed, hands automatically roving over the man, checking for any injuries.

“Scuze?” Dan coughed. “What the fuck happened man?”

Dan looked up to see Suzy looking uncomfortable, Brian looking nearly angry.

“The sub.. something happened. The pressure gauges weren’t reading correctly. Something went wrong.” Brian stated, an unusual edge to his voice as he spoke. “The ships integrity failed about the time you hit 2,500 feet. I think you hit your head. I’m not sure, we should get you to a doctor.”

“I- hit my head? How did I get out?” Nothing made sense, Dan should be dead not here asking questions about how he avoided death by drowning. Again.

At this Brian and Suzy looked uncomfortable, Brian even looked angry. They both looked behind them, Dan followed their gaze.

Stuck in a net was a sight Dan never thought he would see. A man with beautiful brown hair to his shoulders. A pink streak flowing through the hair. A look of dismay on his face as he struggled against his binds. What caught Dan’s eye, took his breath away was the beautiful tail the man had, starting just below his belly button, where a normal humans naval would have been. The tail was an array of pinks, and caught the sun in the most beautiful ways. Dan watched as Dean Terry looked over the creature, a cold curiosity in his eyes.

“They wouldn’t let him get away.” Brian sighed, voice full of sadness and anger. “He saved your life and they captured him.”

#egobang #merman arin au #mermArin AU #fee writes.

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feywildatheart · 7 years ago

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Darna, I hate this planet.

Elyn convinced me to leave Nosirion-1 behind with the temptation of witnessing vast mechanical cities moving through the desert like insects scampering across logs, and instead all we’ve found is sand and upset and strife, an endless series of labyrinthine tunnels and so very, very many dead. I should have stayed with the Silver Tree and helped the scientists explore the planet and got to see Loren and Devon settled in properly and spent my evenings singing halfling ballads in the inn with Ren.

…I don’t really mean that, I suppose, but I’m so tired and I’m so angry, and everything that’s happened since we landed here has made my heart heavy. We spent most of the day walking only to discover we were walking in circles, and it’s my fault and I should have known better. You taught me better. I wasted everyone’s time and maybe now more people are going to die because we’ve had to stop for the night before we’ve found Rihash, and that’s on me. I should have seen it. I was so busy worrying about falling into illusioned pits that would have damaged little more than my dignity that I failed to see that I’d led us into a much more devious trap, and this one of my own making. I don’t know how my maps failed me so badly, I don’t know how your training failed me so badly, but I just wish we could leave this place and be done with it.

You can’t know what a comfort your letter was to me. I don’t even know how I managed to get signal enough to receive it, when we’re buried deep under the barren desert, with any cities (any cities that are still standing, in any case) most of a day’s travel away. But I woke this morning to the beep of my LICD as your message came through, and it could hardly have been timed better. Thankfully, Pika was too distracted with some sort of fervent praying this morning to comment on how I was crying openly into Squirt’s fur, not that she’d have been likely to say anything anyway — though then again, perhaps she would have. I’ve stopped thinking that I can do anything like predict her. And Elyn at least was kind enough to only ask me if I was all right, and then leave it at that.

I’m very glad to hear your work is going well. You’ll have to send me what you’ve charted so far, and once you jump to the next site, so I can find you whenever I do manage to make it back to the Feywild. What sort of pattern have you found in them? Don’t think just because I’m half a galaxy away that I’m not just as keen to understand them as I was when I was drawing maps at your side. Please, tell me everything. Tell me everything you would if I were there, if I’d never left.

I… Look, darnaneth, you know me. I don’t think you’d believe me, if I did promise to stay safe. I am your daughter, and you’re my mother, who took up sword and bow to protect Cylla and me while she carried me. I can’t not help, when I see others who could use my assistance. I can’t hang back where it’s safe if it means letting others face the dangers instead.

Even if I wanted to, my companions are both too keen to throw themselves into the fray instead of keeping themselves safe, and so I must be my mothers’ daughter, and trade bow for sword, and wade in to keep them both from getting themselves killed. I did try to convince Elyn, after she nearly died at my feet in this last fight, that she ought to at least consider the merits of fleeing to safety when she finds she’s outmatched, but she doesn’t like the idea of letting others face danger while she hides from it any more than I do.

(I know, I know. The irony of this isn’t lost on me, believe me. But honestly, I’m hardier than either of them are, and I’m not too proud to retreat when it’s prudent.)

I do promise to try, though. I’ve no wish to die, nor do I relish the thought of being grievously injured. I’m trying to be as safe as I can be, and still do the things that need doing. I’m still not entirely sure what it is we’re facing here on Rugira Prime, because Pika’s been even less forthcoming than she ordinarily is, but she’s jumping at every shadow, so I have to imagine the danger is particularly great. And that’s not even counting the cities being swallowed up whole, or whatever it is who’s been stalking the fallen cities and picking off survivors. But I can’t turn my back when people are dying and could be saved, and whatever government there is here— Well, Pika’s told us little of that, too, but I’ve got nothing kind to say about them, when two cities got swallowed up by the desert and, so far as we can tell, there’s been little or no effort on the part of the authorities to discover what happened to them, or locate survivors. Nida — she’s one of the few survivors we found in Arkard, though I’m getting ahead of myself here — she seemed to be full of excuses for why they wouldn’t, how it’s treacherous in the desert and a search-and-rescue mission might be too dangerous, how there might be little to find if an earthquake just swallowed a city up whole, but— honestly, darna, we’re three women (three women and a dog if we count Squirt, which you know I always do) and we found them inside of two days. They’ve been down here for months and months. People could have been saved, and so far as I can tell the authorities have just… done nothing. Just shrugged and chalked both cities up as a loss and continued on their merry ways, and have I mentioned I hate this planet? It’s not just the sand and the heat and the desert, though they’d be miserable enough on their own. The Feywild is a treacherous place to live, and so we looked out for one another. But here, where they need each other the most, they just… don’t, so far as I’ve seen. They just let whole cities be swallowed up and continue about their day because at least it’s not their city. Pika’s so focused on her own objective here, and I pointed out that perhaps we ought to be concerned about what happened to these two lost cities, because if it had happened to them what’s to stop it from happening to the city her objective lies within, and she—

Well.

I’ll get to that.

The point is, people as individuals may be kind and may look out for others — Nida seems to be sheltering a small group of fellow survivors, and Tace sent us out here to discover what had happened, after all, and Snapdragon’s been more generous than I could have ever expected (but, no, I’ll get to that, too. Have patience with me, darna, I’m trying to work myself up to it but it’s no easy thing to talk about) — but Rugira Prime as a whole seems a wretched, unkind, self-centered place. There’s such poverty here, darna, and such incredible wealth, and it’s heartbreaking to the see the two side by side and see no one trying to help those who need it the most desperately.

Nida offered us water and provisions before we left to try to find Rihash, offered it to us, when we’ve got full packs and they’ve been trapped down there for months, using up what supplies weren’t damaged in the fall and unsure of any rescue. There are kind and generous people here, but they’re not the ones who have the power to make a difference in any sort of lasting, meaningful manner, that much is clear.

I’m sorry it’s hard and strange, darna. I hope you know it is for me, too. I miss you both every day. Sometimes I lower my bow and take a breath at the end of a battle and for a moment it’s startling to realize you aren’t both there fighting next to me. Sometimes I have to catch myself before I turn to ask you a question, or tell you a thought that I know would make you laugh. I still don’t regret leaving, but sometimes I wish there might have been a way to do so but still have you with me, more tangibly than just these letters sent between us.

Oh— Oh, darna, I never thought you might read that letter and think it was written by someone else. And I’m sorry I was so short in it, I wasn’t trying to hide something from you that I thought would worry you. I promised you both that I’d tell you everything, and I meant it. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you what happened. I thought maybe with some time I could put my thoughts in order and figure it out, but I still don’t. I’ve spent this whole letter trying to work my way around to it and I still don’t have the right words. But I can’t bear the thought that it’s made you worry more than I know you already do. I’ll just have to do it poorly, then, and I know you’ll forgive me if I’m a bit of a mess through it.

I told you about making that comment to Pika, expressing concern that the thing we’re here for might end up swallowed up beneath the sands next, if everyone keeps shrugging off the disappearance of these other cities. And, I still don’t understand how or why when all I wanted was to ensure that it stays safe, but she took it as a threat somehow, and before I could so much as blink had spun on me and pressed a dagger against my throat and snarled something at me that I can’t even remember now, I was so startled and taken aback and hurt. Not physically hurt, I should say, before you and Cylla both pack up your things and come tearing out here to have words with her, just. I never expected it of her. I’m still shaken, if I’m honest, and feeling like I have to be guarded with her now where I was only ever open with her before. But Snapdragon says it’s borne of fear. She used some terribly lovely metaphor that I’m probably mangling as I try to recall it, but she said that she’s seeing sandstorms in every bit of shifting sand. She also offered me sanctuary, if I felt I needed it, and Elyn warned Pika that if she drew steel on either of us again that she’d quickly find herself left on her own, which was an unspeakable relief, too, to have someone there at my side speaking up on my behalf. And I wrote to Athan, too, asking advice about how to handle a situation like that should it arise again, since it made me all too aware that I may be good at a distance but I don’t know what to do with myself but freeze when I’m taken by surprise like that. He sent some good advice back to me, and I’m planning to ask Tace to spar with me so I can practice his suggestions, once we leave this damned desert behind us and get back to the city.

I love you both so much. You’ve made me cry all over again, just rereading your letter. I have been meaning to see if I couldn’t find a temple where I could make an offering to Cernunnos, once we get back to a city, if for no other reason than because he answered my prayers when I spoke them unthinking in regards to the Yeruses, and perhaps he might be equally inclined to help with our task here on Rugira Prime. I haven’t decided whether it’s more or less likely that a desert people might give offerings to a god of green and growing things.

You are both a comfort to me, in your own ways. I couldn’t ask for better mothers than you. And I don’t care how grown I am, I’ll always welcome and value whatever advice or encouragement either of you might see fit to offer. You two and the things you’ve taught me are at least half the reason why I didn’t find my way into some sort of horrible disaster five minutes after leaving the Feywild.

I’ve just given Squirt a hug so tight that I think I may have alarmed him. Hug each other for me, please, until I can make it back and do it myself. I promise I’ll come home to see you both when I can, if ever our path takes us anywhere near Caliz Beta, or any of the rings into the Feywild.

I love you. I miss you. Please be safe, and send me those maps, so I can know how to find my way back to you.

Love,

Maliah

#in character

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selfmadetorturedsadnessetc · 7 years ago

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You think lies, scandals and drama are only in the big city lights? Well, I have proof that small towns may be just as bad if not worst! Oh, and it doesn't revolve around the rich and famous. Just lonely southern housewives, which is typical, but also working women with some power. At least that is how I started out.

About lucky 7 years ago, I was an assistant Mgr at a gas station! Who also did all the store managers work, because he was a two faced, fame seeking closet gay! Who got what he deserved later on. Anyways, I worked so hard and was on call 24/7. I was always so tired and just wished I had something to keep me motivated, happy and energetic! Then I reunited with an old guy friend!!

Gus was a somewhat bad ginger male, more like a low life who was good in bed and had just what I needed! Addy's bc my savior and my soon road to destruction! I was sleeping with the hook up so I got either free or really cheap. Which then led me to others who dealt it and I became the whore who slept with men for pills! Seeing that taking the Addy's increased my sex drive tremendously. Which leads me to my other road to major destruction.

Social dating apps are fun, esp seeing who is on there. Which was my first intention when I got on the site. It became so much more when men started messaging me by the many. Gus had already abandoned me by this point for another, married, women. So I started hooking up with guys from my old high school, whom I had crushes on, and some hot muscular men. One was a manager at a local resturant where we had sex in his office after hours, and there were cameras! Only slept with him once though. Another was this sexy, self made business, and married man! He would meet me in hotels and we would have sex for hours. We saw each other a good bit. He was a very controlled man. Then my adventures drifting to just about any decent looking man available, mainly my small town husbands! Until I met the man who helped me ruin my life.

I met this man on the dating app named Andy and he was much older than me with a disability and far from rich or handsome! It seemed to be the way he talked to me, he put me under a spell of some sort! Didn't help the Addy's, working and the adventures were taking over and messing up my mind. Well, we were talking for awhile and he started talking about me coming to visit him. So I did and we had a great relaxing and constant orgasmic time. Which spelled me even more some how. So when I got back home, he would call all the time and if I didn't answer he wouldn't stop. He would call my job and refused to hang up so I could work. Come up with reasons why I didn't have to hang up. It became a huge problem but I still considered leaving to go live with him. I did go live with him. Left my husband and my son for 4 days. Leaving my husband was nothing to me, but my son, it killed me inside to out. This man who spelled me somehow to do all this, let me freeze naked in a bedroom every night and sex was no longer enjoyable with him. He looked no longer like the man I thought would make me happy. He was so controlling and when I didn't come to him bc I had a phone call, he came to me, snatched my phone and broke it to pieces on the concrete steps. It is was like he broke the spell at that very moment bc I called my husband, who didn't hesitate to come and get me at the hotel Andy had dropped me off at, in tears!

Once I got home, I held my son in my arms for hours it felt like. I vowed to never leave him again, and I haven't. As for my husband and I we actually made love like never before six nights later. I was so in shock after everything that I had just done. Four days that felt like forever hell. Then 5 weeks later, I got a even bigger shock of it all. Seemed like a sign to me at the moment though. I was pregnant!

To be continued........

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packernet · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://www.packernet.com/blog/2020/01/16/packernet-podcast-keep-the-hate-coming-were-loving-it/

Packernet Podcast: Keep the Hate Coming - We're Loving It

Transcript:

8s – 1m 8s

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, once again to the back of that podcast. I am your host and residence analyst that’s always Ryan slip check it out online packernet.com. Find me on Twitter Pack underscore that is so today. I’ve got quite a bit of things that I want to touch on some news and notes some rumors. Probably going to get a little bit Ranchi. There’s a couple different things to different people at you know, I was just talking yesterday about how you know, if I’m being honest I liked the days when the media was gushing over the Packers a lot more than I like today. I really did like that. It kind of it was it was somewhat undeserved kind of like what the Chiefs get with Mahomes and now Lamar, you know that the Golden Boy treatment that Aaron Rodgers somehow had for felt like basically his entire career up until what 2015 maybe even late cuz I think I think even as you started to decline the video

1m 8s – 1m 45s

Because you know, that’s just how they work. Nobody wants to be the first to say it and then as soon as somebody says it is like this just Avalanche. I don’t like them either. It’s just you know who can dislike him the most so, you know, that’s that’s how you get to be edgy you without actually being edgy because you didn’t want to say it for 5-10 years. Anyways, I don’t like this so much. However, I got to admit there’s something kind of nice and extra motivating about these games. You’ve already got the aspect if I really really really really really want to win and see this team in the Super Bowl is sort of like

1m 46s – 2m 46s

It hasn’t even sunk in that it’s a possibility and it’s not because I’m sure I believe thoroughly that we’re going to lose. It’s just it’s just like that that just doesn’t happen Packers don’t go to the Superbowl this certainly don’t win the Superbowl and it’s super rare and probably nod and I forget who it was and I apologize but somebody gave the visual in the Facebook group. Make sure you join the Facebook group that he could Envision Aaron Rodgers and Aries and Aries next to each other hosting the trophy and it was like one of those things that visual just made it very real and it’s like, oh my goodness this could really happen. I mean this could really actually happen but then you take the excitement of winning and the desire to win and add to it how much distain I’m developing for everybody because everybody dislikes the Packers and some of it is fine, right? You got the sports books and everything else. They’re saying the Packers have the lowest chance depending on where you look of winning a Super Bowl get it. You’ve got some stew.

2m 46s – 3m 46s

Mystic people just kind of laying out some facts, but for the most part you have very biased people that have never liked the Packers and love the fact that Aaron Rodgers is not the favorite anymore and take every opportunity. They can to remind everybody which largely is wrongly but because this is what the statistic Community now believes remind everybody that Aaron Rodgers is no longer the goat. He’s no longer even any good. He’s averaged this team is a fraud. They just can’t stop and every opportunity they get to say it they say it so that’s starting to make me angry to the point that I want them to be wrong almost as bad as I just want the Packers to win because the level of distain I have for them. Although I get it because that’s what being a fan of a different team is about. It’s still a little bit annoying. So I want to address some of that and again just some other little bit of this little bit of that. But anyways I said,

3m 46s – 4m 46s

Make sure you jump in the pack and a podcast Facebook group. That’s where the party’s at all day everyday we party and we talked about the Packers. That’s just what we do also apparently get into very serious discussions about needles in San Francisco, you know, some people tend to rant kind of like I tend to reims I can’t hate him for it. It’s it’s my life to also make sure you jump in the back of my podcast Facebook page. Thank you to all of you have sent messages. Obviously. You’ve not been getting hardly any responses. I have to go in and start working on all those responses and develop or develope responses to all the stuff you been saying to build the ultimate supercomputer. I don’t think that’s possible but it’s you know, I got all year figure this thing out. I don’t care. What else do I have to do? I pick one thing that I want to really work on this year on top of all the stuff that I’m doing and that’s one of the things I want to build. So leave me alone. What’s your New Year’s resolution push-ups get on my face. I’m building a supercomputer man Skynet Sun before the T-1000 was

4m 46s – 5m 46s

Schwarzenegger guy before the Schwarzenegger guy was the Packer. Chad Bock. You didn’t catch that and Terminator. Did you wait till Terminator 8, they’ll tell you how it all begins. If you would like to support the fact that podcast I would strongly encourage you to check out patreon.com pack underscore daddy. There is a link in the description somewhere in the link of links. You can support the show for as little as a dollar a month. It means a lot more to me than it does to you is in terms of you know, it’s more positive for me than its negative for you. I understand podcast for free, but I’m hoping that you like the value that I bring enough that you think it would be worth it to you to offer up at least a buck a month. Please consider it. I’ve had a very very good response up over $50. Which is awesome. As long as you don’t consider the fact that there are literally thousands of people that listen every day that it’s slightly less. Awesome. But still it’s good. It’s a good start and don’t forget there will be a giveaway ever.

5m 46s – 6m 29s

Single month, all you have to do is make a small donation. $1 is one entry 5 dollars is 5 entries etcetera etcetera. If you just want to win the thing straight out Super Bowl tickets are to do it. I think that’ll increase your odds substantially. So there you go something about otherwise a five-star iTunes review Stitcher review and make sure you are listening to the Packers iPod cat because the podcast broadcast on another podcast that has not called the Packers at podcast. If you don’t want to switch over that’s fine. I still get all the accounts for it. I just would like iTunes in the rest to realize that people actually do listen to my podcast. So if you wouldn’t mind subscribing to mine as well that be greatly appreciated, why don’t we take a break cuz I got a lot to talk about not a lot of time to talk about it.

6m 30s – 7m 30s

Living with chronic pain is kind of a nightmare. It’s more than just discomfort. It can affect your whole life. I know there are a lot of people listening to this podcast. I probably have some type of pain that has prevented them from relaxing sleeping stopping them from exercising perhaps been ongoing for weeks. And now it has an improved with any of the treatments. They’ve tried enter omax Health. If you’re looking to get rid of nagging muscle and joint pain immediately while providing long lasting recovery, then you need to try the natural breakthrough pain relief solution. Cryofreeze CBD roll-on developed Biomax Health. This non-prescription triple-action pain relief roll on is specifically formulated to block pain receptors reduce inflammation and provide muscle and joint flexibility. The best part is this 100% natural CBD powered remedy works his magic within 10 minutes of application and relief lasts up to eight hours much longer than over-the-counter products as a bonus to you. All Max health is

7m 30s – 7m 53s

Offering my listeners 20% off a full bottle of cryo freeze CBD pain relief roll-on plus free shipping this discount also applies for any product site wine. Just go to omax health.com today enter promo code over time. That’s o m a x health.com and enter promo code overtime to get 20% off cryofreeze and site-wide.

7m 54s – 8m 53s

And once you’re feeling better, you don’t want to just feel better sitting on the couch. You especially don’t want to just feel better out shoveling your driveway making the pain come right on back. How about instead? We spend our February and March following our favorite baseball teams to Arizona for the Cactus League spring training. I can’t imagine a better way to spend February then out in 75 degree weather watching some baseball eating a couple hot dog hanging out with your significant other your body’s your kids and after the game getting some autographs and then buzzing over to one of the great craft breweries some great outdoor scenery and Adventures like hiking biking Jeep tours hot air balloon skydiving jet ski horseback riding and then after you’re completely famished go out and get some great Arizona cuisine cuisine as Gordon Ramsay kind of says, you know the British don’t speak too good scene. They try, you know,

8m 54s – 9m 54s

Make sure you plan your spring training get away at visit arizona.com spring training. Alright so much to do so little time. What are we talkin about? How about the fact that Luke Kuechly just retired yesterday. Can you imagine being a Carolina Panthers fan? You had a good team then it all kind of went sideways. We know what that’s like, it happened last couple years, right? Suddenly things just aren’t good anymore. We were Super Bowl Contender and then we were trash quarterbacks banged up but we’re starting over now. We get this guy rule in and it’s like he’s going to take over and he’s going to transform everything and then you find out the LSU who just won the National Championship the passing game coordinator. The guy that’s worked with Joe burrow land in the rest of that LSU crew to help them to win. The national championship is going to join Rule and help us rule the NFC South took me a second there and it you just feeling good and you know it you’re probably going to get a new quarterback. Maybe you like it. Maybe you don’t but

9m 54s – 10m 54s

It’s just it’s a new era, right? Cuz it this is a good team. We just got some work to do. We got to fix up this defense a little bit. But may we got the best running back in football? We’re going to get an electrifying quarterback in here. Take a guy like Herbert would be great somebody that doesn’t really need to be benched. But as long as he has a good Supporting Cast which which the Panthers kind of do right, they’ve got wide receivers kind of for the first time that got a great running back decent enough offensive line, like you can plug him in and just make some stuff happen and it will just focus on the defense and just hammer away at it. We’re going to be good man. We got Kuechly hang a hammer in this thing ain’t turn it down in the day that you get the news. You got a new offensive coordinator. The guy that has been like the guy on your team. One of the better linebackers of all time decides that at 28 years old with two years left on his contract. He’s going to hang it up. That’s wild by the way. This is not insignificant news to the Green Bay Packers because the Green Bay Packers are playing the Carolina Panthers at home in 2020 the Panthers

10m 54s – 11m 54s

Who had a abysmally horrible defense this past year are now without Luke Kuechly now. Who knows what’s going to happen to you know, after Gronk left, obviously, there was a total speculation that he’s going to come back. Maybe this is just stay a moment, you know as far as lacking Clarity, maybe it’s it’s injury-related and he’s he’s just really worried who knows but things change Stihl 28. He still healthy maybe is not the same Luke Kuechly was last year. He said in his goodbye message. He’s just not that same guy and he doesn’t want to play if you can’t play up to that level anymore, but maybe I mean Jared Veldheer retired now, he’s back helping us win a Superbowl but as it stands the Packers now are planning to go up against the Carolina Panthers at home without Luke Kuechly. I think the sooner we get that team the bed because the new coach and all that stuff that’s going to take some time to kind of develop that team build that locker room build up the new scheme in the new system. And I you you get those teams early enough before they really

11m 54s – 12m 54s

Get into the groove if they ever do but you catch them before they get into a Groove and that’s that’s going to work to our benefit. I also wanted to comment on something in just a little bit old news, but it’s interesting apparently and this is reported via Tony Pauline. I actually was I found this while I was doing some draft homework trying to get caught up on all the latest news and rumors and things for the draft and came across some news that apparently prior to the Vikings beat in the New Orleans Saints and then understand Tony Pauline is legit. He called stefanski to the Browns like in the same article prior to in Minnesota and the Saints game. She called it but decided the Browns number one candidate was stefanski. Anyways, he had said based on an inside source. The Minnesota Vikings are kind of tired of of Zimmer now, I’m shocked by this because the outside perspective by everybody not in Minnesota is that Zimmer’s a phenomenal code? He’s done a great job obviously is Zimmer defense is a very tough defense in the defense is what makes that team great, obviously.

12m 54s – 13m 54s

Cousins did a good job and all this other stuff, but the Zimmer defense is what makes the Minnesota Vikings in Minnesota Vikings, but in Pauline’s words Zimmer has worn out his welcome in Minnesota. Here’s the interesting thing. The report was if they lose to the New Orleans Saints Zimmer’s done and stefanski will get hired as the head coach so bad because I believe the source I do think that the ownership wants to move on from Zimmer. However, they did beat New Orleans. I can’t imagine one game like that is really going to make that big of a difference. Although I mean, of course it’s a big win but to be that good of a team to get in the playoffs and to still say if you lose to a basically the number one team arguably in the NFL then you’re no good. And it’s that’s kind of a ridiculous statement. It sounds to me like something you’d say when you kind of just want him to go but the other kind of unfortunate thing is for the Vikings. Anyway, you also lost your intended replace.

13m 54s – 14m 54s

So now what are you do you you not only beat the Saints but the guy that you were going to replace dimmer with supposedly is gone. So you don’t have a replacement. No, forget that forget. The fact that I think this whole thing is a ridiculous conversation. I don’t know what’s going on inside the organization. Maybe Zimmer has become an insufferable jerk. He feels like he runs things, you know, whatever. I don’t know. I’m just telling you what the standpoint of ownership is and in for the Vikings fans listening. I want to clarify something. I understand that. The owner has said we 100% are bringing back our GM and our head coach. We have no intention of moving up. Please understand the eagle said the same thing about two of their coaches and fired them both the same day within 24 hours. I think it was like the quarterback coach something else. I don’t know but there was a question. Are you bringing it back? You should absolutely they’re coming back within 24 hours. They were both fired. So when you get put on the spot, you know, you don’t waver on a Zimmer coming back of course is come.

14m 54s – 15m 47s

Oh, yes, definitely. You tell the media. Yes, and then you go do your job or you try to throw out some it mean that there’s really just two ways to handle it. You don’t care what the media thinks and you just say yes because it’s better for your your franchise because you don’t want to waiver on it and then keep Zimmer was Zimmer, you know in the back of his mind taking these guys are trying to get rid of me. So you just say, of course, that’s our guy or the other way to handle it is just kind of, you know, not answer the question in which case everybody fully understands. You are answering the question. So you think you’re being cute but you’re answering the question and say yes, we’re trying to get rid of them by wavering on it don’t hurt her. I should have asked you to come Sizzla Floor coming back next year. What do you think the answer you think is going to be? Well, you know we go to the media asks you I think the right thing to do is say yes, of course dumb question and then if you want to fire me fire if the media wants to call you on it just to cares.

15m 47s – 16m 47s

He made you look dumb not the other way around cuz guess what you’re going to keep asking me questions as though I’m an authority and I want to keep telling me the answers that I want to give you whether they’re true or not. Cuz I could not care any less about you and your little articles. I’ve got a team to run a multi-billion-dollar franchise to run in a little Minnesota blog doesn’t mean anything to me and I’m not going to hurt my franchise answering your ridiculously dumb questions. I don’t care about you. So again, this is just to say I fully understand he said they’re they’re intending to keep them at this point. That might be their only option i d d, you know, I don’t know maybe they like some of the other candidates that are out there be enemy McDaniels. The Ravens offensive coordinator is getting a ton of love and could be a very good option. You also have to figure that. You might be looking to get a new quarterback in the near future. So maybe you want to get it off. I think that I think this is all ridiculous. I I think this is a defensive team of talk about identity in the past and the weird thing but certain teams

16m 47s – 17m 47s

This is just have identities that last through the decades the Vikings trying to go off at doesn’t work. They win when there are defensive team same is true for the Chicago Bears. They have tried over and over and over and over with guys like Trestman and everything else trying to get an elite offense and it just never works in. The one time that they’re legitimate team is when despite the fact that they’re still trying to go off ends Vic fangio building Elite defense and there you have it this Minnesota Vikings team lives and dies with their defense the purple people eaters on through the line This is a defensive franchise. They are a smash you in the mouth kind of a team and I just I don’t I don’t know. I don’t know why they would do it, but I wanted to bring it up because it is interesting and it definitely feels like this team has kind of been flogged. It’s kind of like Luke Kuechly Jumping Ship when everything’s kind of influx. Anyway, I’ve been kind of on the fence. Anyways, you’re going to fire my code. You’re getting rid of my quarterback. Probably maybe you’re bringing in all these new people. I just you know,

17m 47s – 18m 47s

The franchise is kind of in the in the in the train in the dirt. Whatever I can think of a word out of here and you know, the Vikings are kind of going through that’s enough that they’re a bad team. But you lose your offense of coordinator your defensive coordinator your assistant GM you might look at him know, you know what since we’re getting poached and we’re losing everything. I’ve been kind of want to make some changes. Anyways, let’s just kind of make some changes until I all I’m saying is if I had to guess the dimmers going to stay if for no other reason than he met that one qualification in that they beat the Saints and the replacement is currently coaching the Browns. However, keep that in the back your mind if the Vikings don’t have a good year next year. He’s 100% gone and it’s also possible that if they could find a good enough candidate they may move on. Anyways, I mean maybe before they go out and find it offensive coordinator. Maybe they go out and find somebody and offensive coordinator to coach the team and you know, there’s a lot of good defensive coordinators floating out there. They don’t get as many looks as had head coaching jobs as offensive coordinators do so. There’s some really quality guys that are just floating. So anyways something to keep an eye on.

18m 47s – 19m 47s

Something else that was brought up kind of a long that same vein Max in the Facebook group said he is a Packer fan from Minnesota and that there is growing speculation that Stefon Diggs is permanently unhappy on an overall average Vikings roster. Now though the point of his question was as a possible we end up getting them in the in the main response at he got was that there’s no way the Vikings are going to allow him to go to the Packers. That’s probably true. However, let’s also keep in mind. He doesn’t have to come to Green Bay in order for him to benefit us if the Vikings really do it again, they’re kind of in this middle grow their kind of in a spot where if they wanted to kind of tear things down they could or they can just try to hang on just replace the vacancies go into the draft get some more quality guys and come back and Hammer it again next year. I mean there there’s still a pretty good team. Although there is that question of the ticking Time Bomb might these guys are getting a year older and a year older and all our guys that are older or under these really long contract. I don’t know maybe we do need to start doing something a little bit more dramatic a little bit more.

19m 47s – 20m 47s

Secure Kendricks the odds of him playing at this level again or basically zero, he’s never play that at that high of a level ever in his career. He’s arguably the top linebacker in all football and I’ve been dogging the guy for 4 since forever saying he’s overrated Kendrick sandbach. You certainly was November 8th of this year and you know Everson Griffen and daneel Hunter very very good. But, you know the age catches up with everybody. These guys are both in or push in 32. Neil’s obviously a lot younger. He’s got a lot of tread left but Everson Griffen. I know you got them locked up long-term, but that doesn’t mean you got a quality player locked up long-term. He’s 32 just cuz you sign them through 35 doesn’t mean you’re freezing his age. So I don’t know. I mean if it’s true that they are considering moving on from their head coach. It’s certainly true that they could be willing to move on from there. They’re wide receiver, especially if he is kind of a head case and you feel as though he’s a negative in the locker room. I don’t know that he is I mean sometimes loud guys like that are positive other teammates really like him and I think her cousin says very much cuz he’s always screaming at cousin but so is

20m 47s – 21m 47s

The receiver feelings constantly getting into space 2 so you have to cut him if that’s if you’re just worried about him his Kirk Cousins feelings and Kirk Cousins is probably gonna be gone pretty soon. Anyway, so what are you worried about that for? Anyways, that’s enough about the Vikings. But I guess here’s to hoping you know, if the offseason has been really crazy since what like 2017 when it just really went nuts and we’ve seen teams do things that you know people that have been watching football for a long time. You just think that would never happen. That’s to correct. Those things have been happening the last few years, but some of the biggest stars just randomly end up on different teams. So it’ll be interesting to watch the Vikings in the kind of gauge and see what their strategy is which for a long time has been. Let’s just retain everybody at some point. You got to assume that they’re going to try to blow it up a little bit. We’ll see what happens little bit of minor Packers news parent leave the Packers had to work out with CFL running back to Shawn Amos. No clue. If there’s any relation to Adrian Amos. However, he is a r was a Calgary stampeder and a teammate of Reggie begelton another guy that we had.

21m 47s – 22m 47s

I believe sign to a reserve Futures deal. So we’ll see what happens when it comes to a PC still doing a lot of work and it clearly they’ve been doing some work in the CFL as well. And you know, I’m not going to not get a job goop the man knows what he’s doing. So we’ll see how the last thing I want to bring up before we take a break and get into some other more. I don’t know what college visit philosophical type thing. There was a point brought up by no other than OJ Simpson that Aaron Rodgers probably still has a chip on his shoulder against the 49ers leaving aside the part where that was a very long time ago because you probably still have some kind of a chip something that OJ seems to be forgetting is that he probably has a chip had a ship on the shoulder on November 24th, when we lost 30728 probably had a chip on his shoulder when we lost of the 49ers 23 to 20 back in 2014 as well as losing twice to the 49ers the year before

22m 47s – 23m 47s

So I’m not so sure that that really holds a lot of water I bring it up just because it’s entirely possible that there’s some pack offense of her then go. Oh, yeah, he was snubbed therefore. He’s angry therefore he wants revenge do this is the third time we face it for San Francisco in the playoffs with Aaron Rodger We Roll for 2. So yeah, maybe but I’m not putting a lot on that. However, he was the one thing I will say to try to get a little bit to that bigger than Aaron Rodgers is the general theme that although the Packers haven’t been perfect. They win when it matters, I would focus little bit more on that to be honest the fact that yes, we did lose to them earlier in the regular season, but when it really matters do we have the guys on this team come up and play a good football game and again to win when it matters that’s been there Mo all year. So be very Packers ask of them to have an ugly series with the 49ers but ultimately win when it matters and to once again prove everybody wrong something they’ve been doing literally all

23m 47s – 24m 47s

Let’s take a break and then I want to get in to see how much of this other stuff we can get at. I want to start with the the first thing first. That is this Eric eager guy who is a vitriolic anti Packers Vikings fan who is trying to put on his analytics hat as he tries to dismantle the Green Bay Packers and the shocking thing is that although other people are doing a fairly good job of it. Just just laying out historical fact and letting it lie there and letting Packer fans. Overreacting look like The Crazy Ones this Eric dude is just out of his mind. So I want to kind of walk through this a little bit to matter simply means that the offense is what is most predictive and actually this game was a perfect example of that. So it’s pretty clear. He’s trying to defend something right? He’s he’s he’s not walking something back but he got called out for something dumb and he’s trying to defend it. First of all, what in the world are you talking about? Trying to defend apparently some comment he made about defense.

24m 47s – 25m 47s

Doesn’t matter which is dumb as the guy that has in a self-proclaimed way written the book on it. That’s just not true offense is more predictive of success. That’s not true. Remember what my little project was quarterback versus defense, which really is how they started off. That’s what I call it ends up being sort of what the predictive odds of winning based on your statistical points where you rank in terms of points and yards on offense and a defendant in a mathematical sense looking at every single Super Bowl winner throughout all of Super Bowl history. I looked at what the percentage odds are based on all these things and end points against which is defensive points allowed is by far the most predictive in terms of actually winning a Super Bowl 30% 30% of all Super Bowl winners have the number one overall defense. That’s just number one.

25m 47s – 26m 46s

I’ve been through all this stuff before he’s just wrong about this defense is more predictive of success know if you’re talking about maybe some other things. I I don’t know what is initial claim was but he’s absolutely wrong having a great offense is going to help you win the Superbowl but having a better defense is much more predictive and then for him to go on and say end this game was a great example of that. Excuse me, the Packers won because of their offense against the Seattle defense. Is that the claim that you’re making that’s absurd It song about the Packers five sacks Russell Wilson had a better day than Aaron Rodgers did statistically it was Aaron who it was Russell Wilson versus the Packers defense. That was the story of this game. This was not an example of that. If you go back over history the last time they played in the playoffs the Seahawks want and it was Seattle’s defense against the Packers offense. This was Seattle’s offense against the Packers defense in both cases defense came out on top two hilarious thing though. Is that his co-host

26m 47s – 27m 47s

Yeah, that’s right. And then goes on to explain how the Packers defense was really good and that the Seattle offense was really good what this game was? Absolutely. I mean we were we were told the entire in a sort of going into the game that Green Bay was more Stout up front in Seattle and they were I mean, they think pressured Wilson more than 50% of his dropbacks. But ultimately Russell Wilson and the Seahawks have gained the Packers. They made a lot of plays Wilson at 106 passer rating when pressured their yards per play We’re actually higher than their historical, you know average for the season. I think they were saying that offense is more important than defense and this game shows in the co-host goes. Yeah, that’s true. Seattle’s offense was incredible. And in fact, they played better on offense then they have all year, but the Packers defense was better. Maybe they just think Seattle one. I don’t know.

27m 47s – 28m 13s

I’m a little confused because the initial statement for mr. Eric was defense doesn’t matter the whole Cohoes comes out and says, yes, he knows offense was great Packers defense was great Packers won and to look at his face as he just sits there and watch it happen to him is hilarious Cindy goes down and tries to do damage control and explain how Green Bay’s defense actually isn’t that good? And that in fact, I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know listen to what this guy is trying to do here.

28m 14s – 28m 48s

Upoint were talking before this which is like Willie Turner Turner drops a stone cold light up in past. That’s not an example of Green Bay’s defense being great, right? It’s an example of offense dictating what happens in this game great offense is going to win out right? That’s just what happened and that offense is also going to make your defense look good, right? So Russell Wilson in this game his fatal flaw was that he held onto the ball a long time and he did not feel the pressure and Aaron Rodgers. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop stop.

28m 49s – 29m 49s

Wow, this is this is how I knew he was a Vikings fan. This is how I absolutely knew because this makes no sense Point number one offense dictates to defense. So the point you’re making is basically the the way that I’m going to be right about this is that I’m going to say offense is more important the defense and if you point out to me a good defense I’m going to say that it wasn’t actually good defense was just bad offense, which you can do in every case, except your one example is ridiculous. You gave one example of a guy dropping a pass how many other dropped passes were there? And and what are the five sacks come into play and how about the dropped interception? Can we just hand him? Can we hand Kevin King the ball since we’re just going to make stuff up. Let me ask you another question explain to me how the Tennessee Titans beat the number one ranked offense in football. How did that happen? It don’t even give me this garbage about Lamar didn’t play. Well, he threw some of the most pinpoint perfect passes I’ve ever seen in my life. He was running for his life. That is a very good offense that try to dictate a with but loss.

29m 49s – 30m 35s

To a better defense because the old adage that defense wins championships has kind of been true for a while. If you don’t have a good defense, you don’t have yourself a Super Bowl the last time a team won. The didn’t have a top-10 defense was the 2013 Ravens and I tell you right now with 100% certainty that was a top-10 defense by the time they hit the playoffs and Ray Lewis said guys. I just need one more the last time a team won Super Bowl without a top-10 defense or offense. 2016 Bronco that offense was not good at all. The quarterback was ranked 39th about the number 4 ranked scoring defense in the number one defense in terms of yarded and know their quarterback didn’t get better in the postseason. He was the same guy that couldn’t hardly do any of it. At least physically this it this is such.

30m 36s – 31m 36s

Ridiculous nonsense trying to say that despite the fact that it was actually the Packers defense that one and then the Seahawks offense that lost another what’s a good offense force a good defense and the defense with the way you twist. This is by actually saying the the Seahawks offense wasn’t good. The guy just laid out the statistics. It was a very good offensive performance and Russell Wilson played out of his mind and a know he held on the ball too long. I wonder why genius you think maybe it’s cuz nobody was open because you know defense, what are you talkin about? Why are you doing this the reputation of Pro Football Focus is going in the tank. Every time you open your mouth PFF is all about Advanced analytics. It’s about statistics is supposed to be about facts right that the even her grading scale is based on a very strict criteria of factual information and you got this guy flapping his gums sing the dumbest crap I’ve ever heard of my life offense dictates to defense a good defense.

31m 36s – 32m 36s

Is nothing more than a bad offense. What are you talkin about? This these words have never been spoken in the history of the universe ever accept by this Vikings fan who forgets that he’s on on an actual broadcast and his hatred of the Packers has so consumed him that he can’t even form a coherent thought he is. So Lowe’s to give the Packers any credit that he’s essentially saying that the Seahawks just their offense just fell apart. The five sacks just kind of happened Russell Wilson held onto the ball because he just felt like it not because nobody was open but because he felt like it despite the fact we saw the replays in the coverage and nobody was open and there was nowhere to go with the ball for not going to give Packers any credit this this this is exactly the problem and I don’t I don’t think we’re going to have time to get to my other thing. Maybe we’ll talk about it tomorrow. I don’t have a problem with the analytics Community. But but this is no different than than the end in the political realm there statistics and there is evidence for just about anything that you want to prove and when you get people with enough

32m 36s – 33m 36s

They’ll try to use all this stuff to basically paint the picture that just isn’t so and this is not even a coherent looking picture. This isn’t even using statistics or anyting. This is just a guy that’s lost his mind either. He’s lost his mind. He’s never had one. I don’t know. I don’t know who this guy is. I’ve never heard him speak before but this is dumb and it’s not just cuz he’s talking about the pack of this is the end of this is a stance that he’s taking that offense is more important the defense an example of a defense beating out the offense. It’s because the offense didn’t do what it’s supposed to do that’s called circular logic my friend. That’s not how this works. That’s not how anything works. If you’re listening to this and you want I can let you borrow my thirteen-year-old daughters introduction to logic book. It’ll maybe help you work through this a little bit. She’s done with that when she’s moved on to intermediate logic so you can borrow the the intro to logic book if you if you want it seems like you you might need it but the but the but that’s what that’s what gets me so frustrated about this because there are people that are just being honest.

33m 36s – 34m 36s

I don’t have any problem with Vegas giving better odds the 49ers again. I trust Vegas because Vegas is just all they care about is money. I trust a greedy capitalist because they just care about money there a biased they’re not willing to to to lose money to get their way of Vikings fan working at a casino setting a betting line is not going to move the line to sort of hurt the Packers fans feeling because they just care about money and so I can trust them doesn’t mean they’re right but they’re going to take all the available information which is the other thing I wanted to talk about but we don’t have time is in a how much how much of the stuff that we can see accounts for the whole picture. That’s sort of a another question that will try to talk about tomorrow because some of the analytics people seem to think that all the information we have is all the information we need and my ability to take the information and paint the correct picture is is 100% accurate. So I am all-knowing and that’s that’s when you get to be obnoxious. I love analytics. I love none.

34m 36s – 35m 36s

The love playing with stuff because it provides a little bit of context. It paints a picture but the actual Beauty and football I’ll give you the end of the story tomorrow. I’ll just ruin it is the fact that we don’t know anyting the fact that there isn’t a supercomputer that’s going to tell us who wins the Super Bowl because there will never be a super computer that can tell us that because there is an unknown quantity to the human element of football that will always remain unknown that at that can’t ever be no that is the part about football that makes football special statistics will never be able to touch that part of football ever until some of these people are just wildly speaking out of turn and I’m to the point now that anytime I see it. I’m just going to try to come swing it if you want to say you think the 49ers and I went I don’t care that’s fine. You should think that if I wasn’t a pack of Five Nights at 49ers going to win and I don’t need the other game. I don’t know. How do I run things Chiefs? I’m kind of leaning Titans a little bit same way. I was leaning Titans against the Raven cuz you have these wildly good offense is going up against a team that has a rat that is just a solidly, you know steady team.

35m 36s – 36m 36s

You don’t like I go for the study Team every time it was steady Patriots looking team versus team that let a team score 24 points in a quarter and then came back and scored like 30 or three touchdowns in 3 minutes. That is the epitome of volatility. Anyways, that’s neither here nor there point is I have no problem with Packer fans saying I think we’re going to lose that I’ve gotten so many messages saying I’m not feeling good about this. I don’t think we’re going to win that doesn’t bother me letters are a good team. Even if they weren’t there’s no guarantees in football, which is another thing that the analytics Community doesn’t want to look at. They look at the fact that the Packers almost lost the Lions save their for their garbage. Why because your supercomputer said if they were good, they would have blown him out of the water. Your supercomputer is stupid and I hate the fact that I am at war with the analytics Community because I feel like these are my people. I’m the one that’s been taking the the arrows for PFF for 2 year haven’t talked about how we can go back up in this and this guy is not the embodiment of what PFF is. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know why he’s there. I don’t know who liked who gave him a microphone.

36m 36s – 37m 36s

Speaking anything factual or even using what is going on with Twitter do this is ridiculous the stuff that’s trending is just get out of here. I got to get off here stuff popping up like why is what anyways, so there’s a lot more I want to talk about but, you know time constraints and whatnot. I know. It’s only 36 minutes in but I got to go to work speaking of a couple things everyone. Don’t forget patreon if everybody listening decides to give me a dollar a month. I can start working on my sales pitch to my wife to quit my job. It won’t work, but I’ll start I’ll try secondly on a slightly more serious note, although I would seriously appreciate that regardless of what happens with the Green Bay Packers in a few weeks. The season is over. Let me encourage you because there’s a lot more listeners now than there have been over the past year because of how much popularity with the Packers and their the playoffs and all that. Let me encourage you to please stick around after the season is over if you need a couple days to recoup after a loss if there is a loss, that’s fine. But but please come back.

37m 36s – 38m 36s

Because I’ll tell you what the offseason is when things get fun with the draft coming up with free agency coming up. This this is one of my favorite times of the year. In fact that the Packers won in the playoffs. This would already be my favorite time of the year. It’s the time when we get to dream as Packer fans about what can be what might be to look at the prospects to look at the free agents. And then once we get them to talk about what they might be able to do for the offseason is the time to dream about what could be it’s also that the best time to go back and really digging deep into what the Packers were. Not just what they can be but what they really were in to theorize and that’s what I love the most the regular season is not my favorite time to podcast it’s easy because everything is laid out for you, but it almost kind of gets monotonous is the same thing at the same schedule as it’s just but you got to hit on these points so I can’t get away from it. Even on a daily podcast you get your routines in your ritual. I like the offseason the offseason is when the fun happen, so, please let me encourage you to at least stick around for

38m 36s – 39m 12s

Weaker for 2 weeks just to see if if I’m lying to you and if you don’t love it, and if you’re not getting some inside, so you never thought you would and if you’re not enjoying the offseason by all means going to the football hibernation, and we’ll we’ll see you again in August, but I promise you this offseason going to be a lot of fun. I’m still planning on doing daily. I did it daily last year didn’t think I could but I made it and I fully intend to do it again. So that’s my pan. I’d love to see the numbers increase in the offseason instead of decrease. Anyways, you folks have ourselves a fantastic day. It’s us against the world, and that’s exactly how it needs to be. I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good one. Bye. Bye.

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weracetogether · 7 years ago

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Adventures in SwimRunNC- Race Report (and more) http://ift.tt/2yDLZCa In April the 140.6 Patrick and I were set to race in October was cancelled. A few things came of this-- disappointment and opportunity. Sure we were no longer going to be racing across Delaware but little did we know what exploits were ahead of us. I went looking for something "fun" and "different". A friend had mentioned SwimRun events to us previously. A quick google search lead me to SwimRun NC. I don't recall which race we were driving home from as I sat in the passenger seat and inputted an application to the race.

We waited, we started to run more trails but not overly focused in this area, as we were not sure if we would be racing fall trails. We waited some more, learning to swim with each other in a line or side by side. We waited a little longer, to the point that I figured there would be no new adventure this fall. Then while I was showering one morning Patrick came in the bathroom asking if I knew. Knew what? That we were in if we wanted the spot. A team had dropped and we had a spot to race SwimRun NC. There are no other words to express my thoughts, while I stood there smiling with excitement all I could express was "Oh SHIT!!!!" With an ecstatic heart and worried mind I paid our entry fee and signed our names to the 2017 roster. Since at this point we had weeks to train we increased our trail running but since the 20 mile swim I had been slacking on swimming Plus every time I wanted to swim the wind was whipping up waves or the jellyfish were in attack mode, so bailing on swims became too easy. Race day was quickly approaching- I knew it had to be getting close based on the scrapes and bruises I had from falling during woods training runs.

Starting out

There were a few things we already knew- the terrain would not be Florida sand and hills, we knew we would be in NC foothills, going up a mountain on rocks; we knew the water would not be our warm salt assisted water, we knew it would be cold but fresh; we knew the weather would be a major factor, but this factor was just another day for us Floridians. We packed up our short cut wetsuits, rope, pressure bandage, shoes, swim paddles and buoy, and courage and headed north to the mountains. As we drove the leaves began to change and so did the weather report. The rains were setting up for after the race as a front brought colder temperatures. No worries, this was after the race. We made the final drive into the mountains and the day brought another change in weather, the rains would happen the night before and morning of the race and the dropping temperatures would happen as we raced. Well, this was suppose to be an adventure, right?

The prerace meeting was encouraging-- look for the yellow and pokadot ribbons and have fun. I do have to say we were a little worried with the conversations of Ironman achievements going on between most of the athletes that not everyone was there to have fun. But we have never been at a race for the benefit of others or to show off our accomplishment list; we were here for the love of the sport and to try something new. Better than the "let's have fun" message was the other bonus for racing- letters written by elementary school students wishing the athlete luck!! Our author even hoped we would bring home the trophy. Only in our hearts!!

Race morning alarms woke us to find it raining outside. We geared up in swimsuits and sweatpants and loaded the remaining gear. I ate my yogurt as Patrick drove up the winding mountain roads, covered in rain and leaves. At the start site the air temp was in the mid 50's, not bad. The problem was more so that the winds were picking up and the front was pushing in. We chatted with other athletes as we wiggled into wetsuits and stuffed supplies in sleeves. We readied ourselves at the start line and after a few inaudible words (because we were int eh back of the pack) and a quick kiss, the horn sounded and the pack let loose.

The first stage was four miles up the mountain (with a few downhills). During this trek we would encounter the waterfalls and some climbing opportunities. The one problem we ran into was with all the groups starting at the same time there was a bit of a logjam as people were single-file up the rocks. This was a beautiful start to the race and our first time getting our feet wet in the cold streams running down the mountainside.

The top found us looking out over the lake. The push up the mountain had turned out wetsuits into personal saunas. One would think, "Oh this water is going to feel great." Well the answer is yes and no, both said immediately and at the same time. The water was in the lower 50's. Our warm bodies were instantly cooled, this quick temperature drop made it a challenge to catch my breath for the first few strokes. So there are no buoys (except at the out) in SwimRun. We were navigating blind with matters made worse by fogging goggles. As the cold water rushed out suits we fell into a rhythm. Patrick stopped to clear his goggles a few times and then spotted off me as we moved through the lake. About 2/3rd of the way through we started to see trees in the lake. Let me tell you when you are swimming along seeing nothing and all of a sudden there is a freaking tree under you it is a little freaky!!! And for a Gulf swimmer every algae plumb or piece of grass was for sure a jellyfish!!! We stood up in the muck and made our way to dry land. We ran for a short period and then back in the water for a quick swim. Then we went down the damn and back to the lake entry point, again we went around. This time the cold water was making my hands become pins and needles. There was no warming up between plunges. Patrick again watched me to his right and we fell into sync with each other. The lake trees didn't surprise me this second time around, but their eerie presents gives way to the realization that the cold is real in the lake, freezing items with their summer coverings. This time down the hillside to the damn there were few around us, we were racing the clock to not get stopped short of the mountain climb. For this reason we zipped past the volunteers offering fluids and food, grabbing only what was right in front of us, and leaped over the race mat to start our climb. The hike up Moore's Wall to Moore's Knob (here after known as "the TOP") is a climb of just less than 2 miles. Seems reasonable, except it is comprised of 642 "trail" stairs. See trail stairs are different than normal stairs. If I tell you there are 642 steps, you think "Oh I love the stair master" or"I walk up the stairs each day to work". But trail steps are a different beast. They are uneven in height and length. They are spread out and then close together. They are covered is a light slime from the rain and slippery with mud and small gravel. They don't give at all when your hamstrings cramp from the cold and you miss a centimeter of height you needed to clear the step. As the trees were beginning to thin we could feel the winds increase, noticing now more than before that the temperature was dropping. Clapping, we started to hear clapping! A volunteer stood there cheering us to the top. He was a beautiful site. A little more of a climb and we were there at the top looking over the edge. Even though we were only halfway this was our trophy moment. We stood and watched the hawks fly below us over the tree tops painted with autumn colors. I pushed to the edge as far as Patrick would let me go, after all I was tied to him and there was no net!! The mist and clouds swirled around us and the wind blow the cold air against our faces. Int hat moment the burn faded and the beauty of all that surrounding us filled us with warmth. The TOP the glorious TOP. But as it has been said what goes up, must go down.

The TOP

It was a fleeting moment of warmth. Now the downhill portion began, knowing that at the bottom of the hill we would be greeted again by the cold waters of the mountain lake. The terrain was rocky giving way to roots. Knowing we were halfway we spent much of the downhill laughing at the "trouble" I managed to get us into and telling stories of other times we went looking for waterfalls or exploring wooded trails.We spent much of our time just the two of us, we would pass a team here and there, offering "hellos" and "we got this" remarks. We were good alone in the woods. The trees this time parted to a view of the lake. Swim gear on we dove in. The water rushing into our wetsuits, cooling us and then beginning the hypothermia process again. Somehow this time I had gotten onto the wrong side of Patrick. It was awkward on his left, but my brain could not figure out how to stop an get to the other side of him. Finally he popped up and told me to get over. FIXED!!! We quickly fell into our rhythm. Patrick began to push hard and was pulling away a little; I knew he was in the zone, trying to forget about the cold and push his body to not shiver in the water. My body cooled faster this time and I could feel my hypothermia symptoms of hip pain and my hands pushing against the swim paddles in an attempt to become claws. We popped up at the out again, gathering ourselves. We ran on feet so cold they felt as if we were walking on pebbles in our shoes. Again across the smaller swim and down the damn. This time Patrick informed me that the hypothermia was making him able to see better!!! Yep in that moment I realized between the swims he was not putting back on his glasses. Hew as going down the muddiest, slipperiest, most unsafe section of the course blind, and me in front!!! I assured him that clarity was not a normal symptom of hypothermia; it was more so his brain shutting down and not caring about clarity! What could we do but laugh!! We made it back for the last lake loop. Paddles on and buoys set between our legs we dove back in. By now the air temperature was starting to drop to where our cold arms could feel the cool or the air against the "warmth" of the water. This time Patrick was a little slower out of the water, trying to step carefully onto land. He wasn't use to being so skinny and cold (lol)!!! The little crossing was fast and soon we found ourselves back down the damn. We stopped at the clocking check point to be sure to be marked. Here the race director, Herbert, asked us how we were feeling and rubbed Patrick's arms to help get blood flowing. All the while telling us to untether. Wait, untether? No our team made the choice to be sure we were close enough and to stay tethered through the event. Herbert looked at us in a way that I am not sure if it was disbelief in us having survived making it down the mountain or in questioning again this "sacrificial lamb" race team even being on the race course! Herbert helped us untether, because regardless of the looks intent it was clear he was going to "help us out". Now to be honest we came close to reconnecting on the other side of the road, since hell we made it this far!! Again we laughed down the mountain.

I say we laughed but the cold was taking a toll on me and the downhill was not helping. My hip was tight and painful, making each step feel like a needle going into my bone. To add to the problem my diaphragm was cramped limiting my ability to stand up right or breathe. So there are two things you want to be able to do while racing- make forward motion and breathe! I was failing at both. I had thought a few times during this event that pulling off the course and calling it a day would be an option. This is not normally my mind set in a race but I was hurting, more than in most race. I was slowing our team from forward motion having to slow from the pain then try again and again. I knew I wasn't an easy teammate to be "tied" to in that moment but in the moment I was ready to cry, Patrick turned to me, "We got this" and smiled. I laughed. I was so far from "getting this"in that moment. My body felt like it was failing me; I was angry at myself for not being able to push harder; I was frustrated that I had the thought of giving up; I was scared of disappointing Patrick. I looked around and in the woods, as the leaves danced in the wind above us, I could not have felt more loved. We found a few more volunteers and then saw what we had been waiting for, the entrance into the river. Yes, we had been begging to freeze again because it would be the last time. For me this meant little pressure on my hip and chest. It meant being in my element where I felt comfortable even in the cold. I was in a place I knew I could control.

We entered the river with smiles and foggy goggles (again). As we moved down the river we hit a deep spot where the current was flowing fast, we were on our way. Well, we were until I saw a ripple, hit a rock on the edge and then turned to yell "ROCK" at Patrick just as he pulled a Little Mermaid move, ramping up on the rock with a few choice words! He unbeached (unrocked?) himself and we headed down the shallow river again. Given that Patrick could not see the ripples indicating rocks, I kept yelling, "10 yards, 5 yards, ROCKS!" Oh the fun. We made the turn and saw the exit, moving towards the side and stepping over the last few large rocks, we made it back to land. Up about 20 steps and a 50 yards run to the finish line. Hand in hand we crossed. Patrick bent over after the finish, laughing with his hand on his knees. All I could do was to hug him, smiling, knowing what he just overcame because I had this idea one day. We were soon joined by Herbert with a smile asking, "Was it great?" Yes. Yes, it was great.

All smiles and love

Unpacking at Home :)

Once we had gathered ourselves (very quickly) we made our way to the Jeep to get out of the cold wet clothes. Frozen hands do not make it easy to get a wetsuit off. We heated up the Jeep just to blow warm air out on us. Yep that's right here is the visual- Two people, cold, shivering, laughing, trying to not get stickers in their feet, changing clothes at the back of a Jeep, at some point half stuck in a wetsuit, with the doors open to warm the outside air!!! The air temperature dropped from mid 50's to mid 40's, the winds picked up, the water temperature around 54 degrees; there were 90 teams on the mountain that morning, 83 teams finishing; over 14 miles of running, almost 2 miles of swimming, and over 2000 feet of climb; but all I remember are the laughs. Next year.... Bonus awesomeness with entry fees the group purchased a fire suppression vehicle to help control forest fires. Photos (the clearly professional and amamzing ones) thanks to Brian Fancher, Richard Hill, and Brian Lefevre. Thank you gentlemen for the beautiful representation of the day. If you can, please help us support the Navy SEAL Foundation. Teresa's Donation Page for Tampa Bay Frogman Swim 2018 Teresa is actively raising money for the Navy Seal Foundation. For more information please read this: Supporting the Navy Seal Foundation- Frogman Swim We've been blogging for a while now. If you enjoyed this one, you may enjoy others. Look though the Blog Archive on the right, for more of our experiences and random thoughts. Thank you for your ongoing support of our adventures. Please feel free to share our blog.

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