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#and loads of other mountains that i don’t recognise <3
abba-enthusiast · 2 years
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When you’re on the train and the weather is just right so you can see the Alps 💖🫶😍✨💖❤️🥰🫶😭💫✨🏔️❤️‍🩹💖❤️✨😭
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imagine-darksiders · 2 years
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Ok I’m sorry to ask because I know you’ve said you have a bigger work load now, but is there any way we can get some head cannons for your dragon Monty? I’ve only known him for 3 seconds but he’s my new beloved.
- Dragon Monty is a total thug.
- He’s the scourge of your father’s kingdom, a cantankerous beast with an explosive temper and a penchant for bullying innocent denizens into giving him their hard earned gold, livestock or other such essentials.
- He’ll often threaten to burn down the kingdom if he doesn’t get his way. And yet, in all the years he’s plagued the land, he’s never actually carried out on his threats. So far as the people know, he hasn’t actually hurt anyone, although he insists he definitely has.
- Freddy Fazbear is the captain of your royal guard, and he’s your most trusted friend.
- For your part, you despise the wretched dragon who terrorises your people.
- One night, a couple of thieves steal their way into the castle and take you for a ransom.
- They flee under the cover of darkness, making for the mountains in the hopes that the fearsome dragon will deter anyone from following.
- Monty smells the intruders in his territory and rushes to confront them. He doesn’t expect to stumble into a camp whereupon he finds a pair of thieves in the process of removing the local royal’s regalia.
- His eyes land on you, tears streaming down your face and your arms littered with rope burns and the beginnings of bruises from your rough treatment.
- His temper rages. Your home is in his territory. And everything in his territory belongs to him.
- His stomach is lined with Boric acid, which turns his fire a brilliant, sickly green when it erupts from between his teeth.
- Predictably, the thieves flee, leaving you tied on your stomach, half clothed and petrified.
- Monty scrutinises you for a moment, weighing up how he’s going to play this.
- Eventually though, with a dramatic roll of his eyes, he gathers you between his teeth and flies you back to his cave, nestled beside an alpine lake.
- He’s never taken a royal before, so he’s a little embarrassed by the state of his home. With nowhere clean to put you, he deposits you gingerly on top of his treasure pile.
- He decides you look rather pretty perched up there on all those gemstones and coins.
- You daren’t say a word in case you set him off. You know of the dragon’s irascible nature.
- So it comes as a surprise when he suddenly offers you some undamaged clothes from his horde.
- You squeak out a tight ‘thank you’ that seems to catch Monty off guard. He glances around, as if there’s some other monstrous dragon you’re talking to, before he tentatively replies, ‘you’re… welcome?’ It’s like he’s never said those words before in his life.
- He still has a reputation to maintain though, so he puffs himself up and demands to know why you were in his territory, yet he almost immediately loses his bluster when you break down into sobs and hide your face in your hands.
- Well now he just feels bad. He’s not the smartest dragon in the world, but he knows what those thieves had almost done to you.
Clueless for how to calm you down, he decides to do what he does best. He acts tough. “Hey, you don’t gotta worry about those creeps no more! They wouldn’t dare come back now they know Montgomery D. Gon’s got their scent!”
- A strange noise drifts out between your fingers, so seldom heard by the dragon that he doesn’t immediately recognise it. When he does, he’s surprised. It’s a tiny, wet but unmistakable laugh.
- He’s… never made anyone laugh before…
- Monty would rather chew off his own wings than admit to himself or anyone else that he’s lonely.
- He realises he wants you to stick around. Which is a problem for you, since you’d much rather go home.
- That same night, after Monty finally falls asleep curled around you and his treasure pile, you make a run for it. You have no idea just how possessive a lonely dragon will turn out to be.
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j4gm · 3 years
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TOGETHER AGAIN SPOILERS
A thread of lore, Easter eggs, episode connections, and background details from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Together Again! Let me know if I missed anything! This is adapted from my original Twitter thread.
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Keep reading ⬇️⬇️⬇️
1. I was expecting them to perhaps do a classic style title sequence for this episode, but I wasn't expecting them to straight up use the original title sequence. The only difference is this final screen saying "Distant Lands".
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2. The background of the title cards is also the hill from the title sequence.
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3. The ice cream having "50 flavours" and having an image of an enlightened soul is an obvious reference to the 50th Dead World as we see it later in the episode.
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4. Continuing with the metaphor, the dirt in the ice cream could be a parallel to the fact that Jake's Nirvana actually wasn't perfect, because his inaction was allowing for injustice to perpetuate.
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5. This whole scene feels immediately slightly off. Finn has his Scarlet sword and is out on a classic Ice King adventure, but he speaks in his grown voice and all the slang feels much more forced than it did in the real season one. Turns out this was deliberate.
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6. The snow golem speaks with a baby voice like it did in the pilot episode, even though in canon it has a deeper voice. This further hints that something is not quite right.
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7. The first major break in continuity is these snow golems resembling Uncle Gumbald and Peace Master, who Finn didn't meet until later in his life.
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8. LSP sitting on Finn's head like this is reminiscent of Pen Ward's piece for the 2018 Ble crew zine.
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9. Finn being given the choice of helping somebody but ending up helping everybody reminds me of "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain". It's the kind of resolution that wouldn't happen so much in the late seasons of the show, which helps make this scene feel even further out of place.
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10. Jake is half frozen by Ice King in pretty much the exact same way as he was in "Prisoners of Love", and even has a very similar line.
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11. The Snail is seen here. The crew have said that the Snail has been deliberately left out of previous Distant Lands specials, so its placement here is another very deliberate hint that this whole sequence is "trying too hard" to be like the early seasons.
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12. The book "Mind Games" appears a couple of times, as seen in several previous episodes of Adventure Time. The first is as Finn is approaching the library in his dream. It also appears as one of the items in Finn's backpack later.
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13. Jake is hurt when Finn fist bumps him with his metal arm, revealing that this scene is not real. This is also a callback to the title sequences of "Islands" and "Elements".
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14. A whole bunch of familiar skeletons are seen in the bird's nest: Dirt Beer Guy, Abracadaniel, Me-Mow, Lemongrab, Mr. Pig, and the Snail again. This doesn't necessarily mean that all these characters are dead, since this scene is just a hallucination.
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15. Old Man Finn! He's still got the chest tattoo of Jake, and this time we know that Jake is dead, so the theory that Jake died before "Obsidian" seems pretty likely. He looks similar to his old man design from "Puhoy", with the same facial hair.
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16. There are several cameos of familiar characters who apparently died at the same time as Finn. The first is this duck, who previously appeared in "Ocarina".
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17. The second is Donny, from the episode... uh, "Donny".
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18. This goblin guy is an unnamed background character from “The Silent King”.
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19. This old lady first appeared in "The Enchiridion", way back in season one. Old ladies are a species in the Land of Ooo, so I guess she wasn't actually very old back then, given she just about outlived Finn.
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20. This is the cobbler who first appears in "His Hero". Amazing that he lived so long given all the trouble he got into in that episode.
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21. Land of the Dead! This place was first seen in season two's "Death in Bloom", and now we are finally learning its actual purpose. It's a sort of gateway and hub to all of the other dead worlds.
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22. There are some more minor cameos at the gates: a house person from "Donny", a soft person from "Gut Grinder", and a wood person from "When Wedding Bells Thaw". And, of course, the gate guardian himself from “Death in Bloom”.
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23. Finn completely ignores the gate guardian in the same way he did in Death in Bloom. This also has the convenient effect of not having to reveal how Finn died, leaving it up to the audience's imagination.
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24. Mr. Fox! We already knew he would die at some point because BMO had his skull in the finale.
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25. Finn has his design from the first Distant Lands poster in this scene. Turns out it's young Finn in old Finn's clothes. But they gave him a shirt in the poster so you wouldn't be able to see the tattoo.
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26. The clapping that Finn does while he's looking for Jake is a callback to "James Baxter the Horse", when Jake tells Finn to listen for that same rhythm if they are killed and need to find each other in the afterlife.
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27. Mr. Fox talks about a "past life quotient", suggesting that there might be some kind of limit to how many times somebody can reincarnate. Finn's reincarnations are also seen in this scene; a callback to "The Vault", and confirmation that reincarnations share the same soul.
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28. Boobafina, the goose who Mr. Fox was in love with in his debut episode “Storytelling”, apparently reincarnated into a tugboat. We've already seen that objects can have souls in the episode "Ghost Fly".
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29. Finn is initially assigned to the 37th Dead World, which is the same one that Jake went to when he died in "Sons of Mars". We can only guess at what the other numbers on the ticket mean ;)
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30. Tiffany! Despite several lucky escapes throughout his life, Tiffany has finally died. I like the use of this imagery to express Finn's conflicted feelings about him.
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31. The 50th Dead World has long been established as the "highest" dead world, and the one synonymous with Heaven within Adventure Time's universe. It was first mentioned in "Ghost Princess" back in season three.
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32. It's unclear what happens to souls which are destroyed within the dead worlds. It is a similar question to asking what happened to the ghosts that were killed in "Ghost Fly".
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33. Death doesn't speak at all in Together Again because his voice actor, Miguel Ferrer, passed away in 2017 long before production began.
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34. Finn phases through New Death when he tries to attack him, just like what happened way back in "Death in Bloom".
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35. The 30th Dead World contains Tree Trunks as well as many of her love interests; Mr. Pig, her alien husband from "High Strangeness", Danny and Randy who first appeared in "Apple Wedding", and several more who we don't recognise, including at least one who presents as a woman.
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36. Literally yelled when these two showed up. Joshua calls Finn a crybaby, which is a callback to "Dad's Dungeon".
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37. The wall of weapons in Joshua and Margaret's house includes the iconic Demon Blood Sword, which was broken in "Play Date", as well as Margaret's auto-loading crossbow from "Joshua & Margaret Investigations".
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38. Jermaine is sidelined a few times through the episode, in reference to his attitude in "Jermaine" where he feels that Finn and Jake were always their parents' favourites. I would have hoped things would be a bit better by now.
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39. Fern gets name dropped while Finn and Jake are reuniting. A shame he doesn't actually show up in the episode.
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40. In this scene, Finn says "What time is it?" This is a very subtle reference to the 2010 cartoon "Adventure Time".
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41. In a couple of shots during this fight scene it looks like Jake might have a tattoo. It seems like it only becomes visible when he stretches out his arm.
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42. New Death's amulet in this scene resembles parts of the Lich's cape, foreshadowing his influence on New Death.
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43. There are several more cameos in the 50th Dead World: Booshy from "High Strangeness", one of the Marshmallow Kids from "Scamps", and Ghost Princess and Clarence, who were seen ascending to the 50th Dead World in "Ghost Princess".
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44. Finn didn't interact with Booshy in "High Strangeness", but it seems they must have met at some point before they both died because Finn knows his name.
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45. It seems like people in the 1st Dead World are slowly melted away until they become part of the landscape. Nasty.
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46. Lots more cameos in this scene: a gnome from "Power Animal", a gnome from "The Enchiridion", a Bath Boy from "The Vault", Blagertha from "Love Games", Maja the Sky Witch, a troll from "Dungeon", Chocoberry, Choose Goose, Wyatt, a spiky person from "Gut Grinder", and possibly more.
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47. Tiffany's insults are consistently nonsensical and amazing, as they were in the original series.
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48. The Candy Kingdom looks extremely different. Peppermint Butler is wearing the crown so he might be in charge now, which is supported by the kingdom's very magical-looking augmentations. It’s not clear whether Finn and Jake were expecting to find Princess Bubblegum or Peppermint Butler, since both have the initials “PB” and both could be going by the title of “Princess”. Perhaps Peps and Bubblegum share the princess duties now that PB is living with Marceline more of the time.
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49. Peppermint Butler has a "Boss" mug, although it's not the same colour as the one from "Obsidian".
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50. Jake's ghost has the same design as he did when BMO killed him in "Ghost Fly". I also absolutely love Finn's ghost. This scene establishes that ghosts are just visitors to the mortal plane from the dead worlds.
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51. Life has only appeared in animated shorts before now. Namely, "The Gift That Reaps Giving" which establishes her relationship with Death, and "Frog Seasons: Winter". This episode gives her a concrete place within Adventure Time's pantheon: she is in charge of reincarnation.
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52. A translation of Life’s angry French dialogue by Shado: “After all I did for that boy. After all I did for him. No, it's not possible. It's not possible no, that... that makes me so mad but it's not possible.”
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53. We finally have in-universe confirmation that Shoko's tiger is a previous life of Jake. This was previously confirmed by one of the writers, but wasn't canon until now.
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54. I feel like Finn pulled off Shoko's look even better than Shoko did. I wonder whether Finn has gained the memories of his past lives now that he’s dead.
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55. No Easter egg here, just want to appreciate this image.
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56. There is an elemental symbol on the wall here, as seen in "Jelly Beans Have Power".
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57. Tiffany's dramatic internal monologue is a recurring gag, as is his habit of nearly dying from falling into holes.
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58. The Jake suit makes a cameo in the fight against New Death. It was last seen in the episode "Reboot”.
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59. Finn's backpack contains a few familiar items: the t-shirt with the pocket from "It Came from the Nightosphere", Finn's underwear from "Little Dude" and other episodes, and a copy of Mind Games as I've already mentioned.
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60. The Lich's Hand is present in the background of Death's... death scene. This is probably the unseen "friend" who New Death keeps talking about.
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61. The Lich's menacing monologues often begin with a single command. Previously they have included "Fall" and "Stop". This time, the command is "Burn".
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62. Jake uses the word "boingloings", which is a callback all the way to "Hitman" in the third season.
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63. Jake's blue shape-shifter form from "Abstract" appears very briefly during his fight with Finn.
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64. Finn's lumpy space person form also makes an appearance. This design was last seen all the way back in the second episode of the entire show, "Trouble in Lumpy Space".
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65. Jake steps on the Lich's hand in a very similar way to how he stepped on Ash in "Memory of a Memory", which is itself a Monty Python reference.
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66. The credits include a dedication to a few AT cast and crew who have passed away. Polly Lou Livingston was the voice of Tree Trunks. Miguel Ferrer was the voice of Death. Michel Lyman and Maureen Mlynarczyk were both sheet timers on the original series. Rest in peace.
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67. The message that Finn and Jake write out on the ouija board is "BUTT", which Peppermint Butler takes as a distress signal. This message is also used as a distress signal by the Hot Dog Knights in "The Limit".
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68. Peppermint Butler's reversed dialogue from the scene where he makes contact with Finn and Jake is "Kee-Oth Rama Pancake", the spell from “Dad's Dungeon” for banishing demons.
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69. That appears to be President Porpoise with all of Tree Trunks’ other lovers.
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70. In this scene, Life is humming part of "Lonely Bones", the song which Death tried to record for her in her debut short "The Gift That Reaps Giving". It's hard to notice because it's so brief.
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71. Finn and Jake's cover is blown while in the Land of the Dead because Jake loudly farts, which also happened in "Death in Bloom".
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72. The place where Mr. Fox explains the perception mechanics of the afterlife is the exact same location as the River of Forgetfulness from "Death in Bloom", which, as it turns out, was imaginary.
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These are sort of out of order at the end because I was adding stuff to the Twitter thread as it got discovered. That’s all for now!
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tinyyoungblood · 3 years
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how ab a headcanon where the avengers all take a trip either to disney world or on a disney cruise? i’m a whore for the idea of everyone, especially peter and y/n, just acting like kids again
pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader
a/n: i like this prompt so much!! i’ve never been to disneyland, but i hope this is accurate enough lol. i also turned this into a vlog bc someone had to record this mess and since it can’t be me, i’m giving filming privileges to bruce
              ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
the avengers in disneyland
everyone is very very excited and the days before they leave pass in a flurry of excitement, but peter has never been to disneyland, so he’s THRILLED beyond means
peter’s jumping up and down while everyone’s loading the van and he keeps asking them if they’re ready for this “life-changing field trip?????”
sam is genuinely afraid that if peter jumps any higher he will bounce off earth, so he grabs peter by the middle and carries him horizontally into the car
steve gave a whole lecture on not getting lost the day before and since tony couldn’t resist it, he is dressed head to toe in neon yellow and grinning cockily
nat steps into the van, sees him, and turns around with her hand over her eyes like she’s been blinded
bruce brings his video camera with him and records everything. first thing they do is hit up a gift shop and it is better than any oscar nominated movie
everything they pick up is subjected to a thorough label reading and some kind of commentary
“steve, show them what you’re getting!!” “slippers” “what kind of slippers” “uh...soft”
thor on the other hand takes it very serious and his commentary ends up being very ~shakespearean~
peter and y/n get matching friendship bracelets for everyone
loki: “i’m not wearing that”
y/n: “that’s alright-“
loki: “no tie it on for me”
bucky wouldn’t have come along if it weren’t for steve and sam, but now he’s taking it upon himself to make sure that everyone stays in good condition so they don’t miss out on training
the whole team gets hourly text messages from him in the group chat
bucky: “There’s a water leak in Mickey’s Toontwon. If any of you slip and hurt yourselves I will kill you.”
y/n: “love you too buck”
(they know it’s his way to express his love for them so every message almost makes them tear up)
loki really wants to go on splash mountain but since he doesn’t want to get his clothes wet, he asks the guards how ~splashy~ splash mountain gets
they don’t take him seriously and it infuriates loki because it’s a perfectly reasonable question but it quickly turns into a passionate argument that holds up the entire line
“I DEMAND TO KNOW HOW HIGH THE RISK OF GETTING WET IS, YOU INCOMPETENT FOO—”
*cue y/n and nat dragging him away while bruce runs after them to zoom in on loki’s pouty glare*
they get him a green rain poncho with black polka dots from one of the gift shops, and he’s still glowering but he puts it on without protest before each ride that involves water
normally the avengers would easily get recognised but since everyone is walking around in costumes, people approach them for several other reasons
thor is just peacefully standing in life, staring at the incredicoaster like it’s the love of his life, when a little kid tugs at his cape
“excuse me sir, why are you so tall?” “good question, why are you so short?” “hmm” “hmm”
they find a micky mouse whac-a-mole and everyone is having Fun but something possesses tony and clint and they are really going for it
tony is a 5 foot tall ball of stress and competitiveness and he is yielding that plastic hammer like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do
clint on the other hand is starting to feel the numbness in his arms
y/n, with sarcasm: “you can do it, clint!”
clint, with spite: “i cannot do it, thanks”
*y/n stares into the camera*
they also make up a rule that if you are in a 5 meters radius of one of the theme park characters, you HAVE to snap a picture with them
steve, who gets constantly shoved nudged by bucky into some character’s path, ends up taking a picture with almost every single disneyland character
at some point, he’s just downright sick of it and there’s a 7 min video of steve zooming across the lot while goofy and woody run after him with wide open arms
bucky is doubled over with laughter in the background while sam is standing beside him and wiping away his own tears
the avengers also buy all the pictures that are taken of them on the rides and even stop at some photo booths so they can send them to wanda and vision who are both vacationing on hawai’i <3
thor, peter, and y/n run themselves ragged and their legs almost give out but they will not stop until they have been on every ride that disneyland has to offer
the others think it’s obnoxious but they follow and join them without hesitation
tony is secretly trembling with fear. doing loops in the air at the speed of light is fine and so is battling aliens, but getting on a rollercoaster ride is just heart-stopping horrifying
it’s not that he doesn’t like rollercoasters, (that man has no self-preservation skills, anything that resembles plummeting to death will be gazed at with big heart eyes) but he just doesn’t trust them
if he didn’t build it or prove it, he doesn’t trust it. period. but the avengers are just so excited and happy that he can’t find it in him to sit out
that quickly results in thor and tony re-enacting very impressive Shouting Contests on each ride without fail
tony is screaming and clinging onto whoever is sitting next to him for dear life because he’s Petrified™️
and thor is screaming, because he’s having The Time Of His Life
he’s feeling the wind in his hair, his heart in his throat, and if he’s not shredding his vocal chords and flinging his limbs around, what’s the point of it all
after 20 different rides, tony is sick of pretending and just trudges through disneyland, the happiest place of earth, like it’s the sole cause of all suffering in the world
nat rejoins the group after she mysteriously disappeared for a moment and her hair is tossed, there’s ash on her face, and half of her clothes are wet
bruce, startled: “where have you been??”
nat, beaming: “there was a ride that spat fire from all sides and people jumped out of nowhere to scare you while the whole place was filled with hot water!!!”
bruce, concerned, zooms in on nat’s excited face
“nat i think you went to hell”
sam is big on merry-go-rounds so he drags everyone with him and while some one them first don’t seem to enjoy it, they change their mind once they see bucky’s little smile
(they go on at least ten more rounds until it starts to get dizzy)
a little girl trips over her princess gown and falls close to where steve is waiting in line, and steve immediately abandons his spot to rush over
bruce zooms in on them bc steve has always been kinda awkward with kids, but here he is, crouching down and comforting that little girl, and it’s so unashamedly soft and sweet
they can’t hear what steve is saying but she’s BEAMING now and even giving him a wobbly courtesy while he claps proudly
bruce turns the camera around and both he and clint are lowkey in TEARS like “why are we crying?? we didn’t even fall down” “i KNOW!!”
nat gets a hold of the camera and she’s on a mission to get the most embarrassing greatest footage possible
“bucky, go stand next to moana” “why?” “it’s moana go stand over there” “but i don’t know-“ “bucky.” *cue bucky, awkwardly standing next to moana while nat grins broadly*
when he’s back with the team, sam just stares at him blank-faced, clearly waiting for bucky to ask why he’s looking at him
eventually bucky caves in with a long sigh
“what” “i can’t believe you don’t know who moana of montunui is. she restored BALANCE to the WORLD. put some RESPECT ON HER NAME”
no one knows why but there’s footage of y/n, thor, tony, and loki strutting up and down in the middle of the lane in minnie mouse plush shoes like it’s a catwalk
sam, bucky, and nat are holding up their fingers to score them while steve is staring at them like he’s analysing their fighting stances
bruce, clint, and peter are standing on the sidelines and cheering them on as they should be
they end their day by digging into an unholy amount of fries that even steve can’t resist because they’ve been walking the whole day
a questionable amount of cotton candy also end ups in their possession and the footage of that is just mostly everyone trying out each other’s cones while the camera is passed between them
soon after, the avengers are back in their van to drive home and bruce zooms in on the row of seats where y/n has her head on peter’s shoulder while the others are also half-lounging on each other, and everyone is asleep <3
* * *
guess what i’m about to say?
stay hydrated pals
hc masterlist
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chipsfics · 4 years
Text
Part 6 1/2 - Doubles Therapy
Half of part 6! The second half is coming soon ;)
Rated: PG (for swearing and heavy themes)
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One morning, the sun rose exceptionally orange, filtering through the leaves and harsh through the windows of the hotel. Yinyang was awoken abruptly by a ray of sunshine peaking out from behind the nearby mountains and hitting him directly on the face- He blinked and wrinkled up his face. Another morning... Yang cursed under his breath and turned away from the window. Through squinted eyes, though, he saw his roommate, the Cherries, place what looked like a small brochure onto his bedside table silently. Before they could process what just happened, the Cherries were out the door. What in the...?
After a couple minutes of resting, trying to wake up- Yinyang heaved himself out of bed and stretched their arms towards the ceiling. He reached over and inspected the paper that the Cherries gave him- It read in big, blocky font:
"DOUBLES THERAPY GROUP"
Yinyang stared at it a couple seconds before sniffing and opening up the brochure. 
"Today, 3:30 PM - Hotel OJ event hall B Any and all objects who are 2 or more connected and/or merged are invited to talk about their experiences."
Yinyang read it about 4 times before they placed it back onto the table, thinking. 
"I don't... We don't need therapy." Yang growled under his breath.
"I think Cherries gave that to us just cause we're, y'know..." Yin said. "I don't think they meant any offense. And... I think we kind of do."
"You might. I'm doing fine," Yang said. Yin furrowed his brow at his other half. 
"Anyway, let's go down to the kitchen."
"Fine. But are we going to show up today?" Yin said. 
"Not if i can help it. I've got plans," Yang said. 
"Plans? That I don't know about?" Yin said, standing up off the bed.
"You don't know everything about me." Yang said.
"Yes I do," Yin continued.
"No you don't." Yang contested.
"Yes I do!" Yin exclaimed.
"No you don't." Yang stood his ground.
"We're literally fused!" Yin said, waving his hand.
"Dumbass, we've been split before," Yang said, leading them out the door and towards the elevator.
"For like 20 minutes." Yin continued, talking as they walked.
"Well you still don't know EVERYTHING." Yang said.
"Name one thing that I don't know about you." Yin said.
"I can't, cause then you'd know it and it'd defeat the purpose." Yang responded.
"That doesn't even make sense!" Ding. Yin pressed the elevator button. 
"You don't make sense," They went down and turned the corner towards the snack cabinet- Their usual route. They usually ate a chocolate chip granola bar for breakfast- Because it was just healthy enough for Yin to tolerate and just sweet enough for Yang to tolerate. When they reached up and grabbed the box, it was surprisingly light- They shook it around and there didn't seem to be anything inside of it. Yinyang sighed and threw away the cardboard box in the small trash can in the corner of the walk-in cabinet. They trudged their way out of the snack cabinet, getting even more upset. It was around 11:45- A thought hit him. He wondered if there was any coffee left in the breakfast bar.
Yin hated coffee for how unhealthy it was- plus the old, worn out coffee maker in the hotel looked so.... Dirty. The wear and tear on the machine didn't help the already skunky smell of cheap coffee that filled the air every morning. But, beggars can't be choosers, and they were already making a beeline for the breakfast bar. Yinyang scanned the room for the old coffee machine, still steaming and half-full of coffee from earlier that morning. Yinyang sleepily grabbed a mug off the rack and poured themselves a cup- As they were about to exit the other side, they paused as they saw someone they didn't recognise spreading cream cheese on a bagel. 
They were a pair of blue swimming goggles with a small orange stripe on the outside plastic- one arm on one side, and another arm on the other. There was one face on each of their glass panel "eyes"- and when they noticed Yinyang standing and staring, they awkwardly glanced over and quickly glanced back. Hurry, say something!
"Ummm... Hi." Yinyang said. "I don't believe we've met."
"Oh! Um. Hello, we're Goggles." They turned around, and the two faces spoke in unison.
"Were you on Inanimate Insanity? I don't remember competing with you." Yinyang continued.
"Umm. Cutting right to the chase, huh?" One of Goggles' faces took a bite out of the bagel and chewed while the other spoke. "Nahh, we were never on II. But we're friends with the Cherries, and they invited me to the doubles therapy circle thing going on this afternoon. We live pretty far away, and we didn't know how long it'd take to drive here. I guess we overestimated, haha... but your pal OJ said we could chill out here until the event officially starts."
"Huh... cool. Wait, you drove here?" Yinyang continued. "Its been forever since i've driven or even been in a car."
"Oh, we don't drive a car." Goggles said, and failed to elaborate.
"Really? Then what do you drive?" Yinyang said, his interest peaked.
"We drive a tandem motorcycle." Goggles said, smiling. 
"Tandem motorcycle?" Yinyang said.
"Yeah! It's like a tandem bicycle, but a motorcycle." Goggles continued.
"Huh." Yinyang said, taking a sip of their coffee (which was quickly cooling down). "By the way, we're Yinyang."
"Oh, we know. We've seen you before! On TV. Man, you were one of the funniest characters! We loved the bit about the vending machine." Goggles said, and swallowed. One of the arms passed the bagel to the other face, and they took a bite and started chewing while the other face smiled at them.
"Funny?... Bit?" Yinyang looked puzzled and a bit offended. There was a short but stuffy silence.
"Anyway, I assume you two are coming too? To the therapy circle?" Goggles continued. 
"Yes!" Yin said. "No," Yang contested. "Maybe." Yin added. 
"Well, we'd be happy to see you there!" Goggles said, and finished off their breakfast. "See ya around!" They said, walking off, seemingly in a hurry. What a weirdo. 
Yinyang sipped their coffee. The interaction made them want to go to this event even less... But somehow even more at the same time. That weird sort of curiosity. 
Yinyang took his mug into the game room, where Tissues was already sitting on the floor eating out of a box of cereal as if it were crackers, watching the tv. 
"Oh, hai guyse. I've been waiting for you!" Tissues said, and shoveled a handful of cereal into his mouth and crunched loudly. "What do you wanna play first? I think that we can make it past level 5 in Space Bubble: Galaxy Quest today." Tissues said the title of the video game in a commercial-esque voice. 
"Hmmm.. Yeah! I think so too." Yin said. "I'm gonna blast the hell out of those aliens!" Yang added.
Tissues laughed and loaded in the cartridge, handing the other controller to the two. He booted up the game, selected two-player, and started on their old routine. This was a particularly difficult game to beat- especially the platforming aspect. Neither of them were very good at it. After a couple minutes of playing, Tissues occasionally taking breaks on loading screens to eat another handful of cereal (Yinyang doing the same with his coffee), Yinyang broke the conversational hum.
"Tissues?" Yinyang said.
"Yeah?" Tissues answered, still preoccupied with his game.
"Have you ever been stuck in a situation where... where you want to do something adventurous, but you aren't sure if you should?" He said, and Tissues quickly brought his full attention back to the conversation.
"Hmm. Yeah... I usually go for staying at home. But that's just the kind of person I am," Tissues said. "Oh- Uhh, Here's a good example. When i was given the offer to join Inanimate Insanity like... a million years ago... I thought about it for a long time and I figured "why not." I.. Well, i didn't do so well in the umm. Actual show, but im glad i said yes, because i got to meet you guyse." Tissues said, setting down the controller, as they were between levels.
"Huh." Yinyang said, and smiled. "Thanks, Tissues."
"Now... let's go on to level 6," Tissues smirked, and there was a sweet, knowing silence.
Once they ran out of lives for the 3rd or 4th time, Tissues paused and heaved himself up onto the couch in order to see better, leaving the half-empty cereal box on the ground. He nuzzled oddly close to Yinyang... that or he was just sliding towards them because their weight weighed down the cushion. Either way, it was kind of nice. He was very warm. I guess it distracted him, because before he knew it, they game over'd for a 5th time.
~~~~
3:30 PM. Yinyang walked past the pale orange double doors of event hall A and stood silently in front of event hall B, thoughts racing. Should they? Shouldn't they? Their two halves started to blend together, to the point where it was kind of disorienting. Yinyang took a deep breath. Maybe just for a little while? He thought on what Tissues had told him earlier that day- Adventure, new opportunities. Who knows, they might even learn something. 
What's the worst that could happen?
Yinyang pushed open the double doors and leaned in, the medium sized event room mostly vacant except for the aforementioned Goggles character, the Cherries, and one other object- What appeared to be a traffic light with 3 faces, one on each of the different colors. He was attempting to stay quiet- But Goggles spotted him and waved, causing the other objects' attention to be directed on him.
"Yinyang! You made it." Goggles' two faces said in perfect unison. "We were starting to think you wouldn't show."
"Welcome, welcome!" The green face on the traffic light said. 
"Take a seat, I guess." The yellow face on the traffic light suddenly dinged on and spoke. 
Yinyang sighed and walked through the door, taking a seat on one of the folding chairs they'd set up.
"Alright. Now that everyone's here, should we start?" one of the Cherries spoke up. Everyone looked around and nodded a sort of awkward universal agreement, and the speaking cherry clapped their hands together. 
"Alright! We should go around the room and introduce ourselves, and explain a bit about ourselves. We'll go first." The Cherries smiled. "We're Cherries, and we're twins connected by a stem. We think exactly alike, although Right Cherries handles creative tasks, while I, Left Cherries, handles logical tasks." The Cherries elaborated, the right cherry nodding along to what the left cherry was saying.  "Alright, you next, Goggles!" 
"We're Goggles," Goggles said in perfect unison. "We share the same mind. Sometimes we talk seperately and bounce ideas off each other or tell each other jokes, but most of the time we're in perfect sync. Alright, you next, Traffic Light!" 
The green traffic light dinged on. "We're traffic light! I'm Green, and I'm happy and positive." The yellow traffic light dinged on. "I'm uhh.. I'm Yellow, and I'm indifferent or whatever." The red traffic light dinged on. "I'M RED AND I'M WAY BETTER THAN THOSE OTHER TWO IDIOTS!"
Yinyang chuckled. "Yknow, he kind of reminds me of you, Yang." Yin thought. "Shut up," Yang glared at his other half. 
Cherries sighed. "Alright, you next Yinyang!"
"SHUT UP!" The red traffic light shouted.
"See?" Yin thought, and Yang huffed. After a short silence, Yinyang realized that everyone was staring at him. 
"Oh. Umm. I'm Yin, and he's Yang." Yin said. "I'm good and pure, and he's.... well, he's passionate. We don't always get along, but we need each other. We're two halves of the same whole." Yang didn't feel like arguing with that, because as much as he disliked himself, it was true. 
"Something me and Yinyang have in common was that we were both on Inanimate Insanity season 2," The cherries spoke up. "It was... A little traumatizing. I think i speak for the both of us," The Cherries laughed. "But i had fun while it lasted!" 
"It was weird to have our... whole thing broadcast on live TV like that. It felt like they were making fun of us," Yinyang said. "And when we split... It was really stressful." Yin said. "Well, I thought it was fun. But yeah..." Yang continued.
"I know what it's like to have people make fun of you," The Goggles spoke up.
The yellow traffic light sighed. "Us too, especially Green and Red." 
"Mm. I think we've all been there," The Cherries said, paused, and then perked up when they thought of something. "Wait, Goggles, have you ever been on a bus, or in a movie theater, and you couldn't find two seats for the both of you?" 
"All the time!" Goggles gasped. "Wait, on a similar topic- Have you ever been separated from each other somehow?"
The Cherries looked a bit uncomfortable. "Yes, once... It was kind of scary." Cherries said. "We felt... incomplete. After a little while Right Cherries started to-" The Left Cherry shuddered. "Decompose? I dunno. Disconnected from the stem, they just started rotting. It was really freaky!"
"Woah. That sounds rough." Goggles said. "Our bond is pretty strong, but one time we snapped in two. It was kind of like stapling our brain in half? Unfortunately we died like 2 minutes later, and it was a huge relief once we were recovered and still connected."
"Thats heavy. I think Yinyang can understand, too." The Cherries looked over at the two.
"Oh. Well, yeah... It was. Stressful is all I can say... I just felt incomplete." Yin said. "I could have made it on my own." Yang was completely deadpan. 
The two got really quiet. After that, they kind of tuned out the conversation. They were sitting in the metal chair, weirdly uncomfortable, in a dizzy thought jumble that made them feel like their brain was being scrambled. The other objects' voices got really muffled and far away- and it was hard to form a coherent thought. Some kind of all-consuming bad feeling. Like a shadow suddenly cast over them. What was this feeling?
Yinyang snapped back to reality when he was touched gently on the shoulder by Goggles' right side- He yelped and grabbed their wrist and squeezed it, hard. Once he realized what he'd done, he jumped back and apologized profusely.
"Oww, What the hell?!" The Goggles said, slightly out of sync. "What's wrong with you, man! The session is over. Traffic Light and Cherries are already gone,"
"Oh god, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." Yin said, "Don't touch me." Yang growled. 
The Goggles sighed. "Ugh... Just... Man... You've been quiet the entire session. Is something wrong?"
"I don't..." Yinyang clenched his teeth, hard. "I just... I.... I'm... We're.." He opened and closed his fists.
"Whatever. Just don't do it again, ok? Jesus." The Goggles got up and put away their chair. 
Once he was sure that he was alone again, Yinyang cried in the empty event hall until he didn't feel like someone anymore. What was happening to him? How did it get this bad so fast?
~~~~
29 notes · View notes
ahrorha · 3 years
Text
Flame of Winter
This is the final chapter, and it feels unreal to have come so far. The story is far longer than I ever could imagine. And I want to thank everyone who joined me on this journey.
Your kind words were a joy to have received. Thank you so much for everything.
I love you guys <3
Chapter 35
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Upstairs in the Hanged Man in Kirkwall, Varric sat in his armchair. His room in the most famous tavern of Kirkwall had become his second office since he became the Viscount. Here he could hide for a while from the complaining nobles and stuffy politicians he was surrounded by in Hightown. He could clear his head here and listen to the common people living in Kirkwall, who faced, in his opinion, the real problems in life. Not that he could escape his 'assistant' (pain in the but) Senechal Bran here. Bran had just delivered another stack of letters that required his 'immediate' attention. Varric sighed. He would become bald, grey and worn out like the previous Viscount if he wasn't careful.
“I see you are still insisting on staying in this lovely part of town.”
Startled, Varric looked up and saw Dorian walking into his room, looking critical at his choice of furniture.
“Sparkler! You've already arrived. Take a seat.”
“Yes. My voyage was very boring and uneventful. No burly Qunari pirates visited to make it less tedious.”
Varric stood up to send for refreshments, and soon afterwards, he took a deep drink from a mug of ale while
Dorian was sniffing his wine before taking a careful sip. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at the excellent taste.
Varric laughed. “I got you something good. My knowledge of wine has improved after spending time with you and Broody.”
They both were silent for a while.
Swirling his mug of ale, Varric asked. “Have you gotten one too?”
“Yes. Though mine was a little different.” Dorian answered.
“How so? Didn't you get a letter? Mine just showed on my nightstand when I woke up.”
Dorian gave him a surprised look. “A little unnerving. Do you know who brought it?”
Varric shook his head. “No, and to be honest. After Hawke, the Inquisition and my trip through eluvian capital, there is little that still can surprise me.”
“Well, this might just do. I have talked to our little Snowflake.”
“What?!”
“I didn't get a letter. I got a sending crystal.”
“What is that?”
“A small magical marvel. It is a magical gemstone that can be used for communication. They come in pairs, and you can talk with the person that has the other one. With the crystal came a small note with a date and time.”
“She has the other one?”
“Yes, though she hasn't answered any of my calls to this date, but I talked to her just before I left Minrathous. She is doing well, though she feels guilty about how she left. We talked a long time about me and how I was after Iron Bull's betrayal. I have to confess I wasn't entirely sober after that.”
“So, it is true she is back with Chuckles?”
“Yes, they are back together, and she seems happy.”
Varric sighed. “Well, at least one good thing has come out of this mess.”
“She also told me that things are far more complicated than she ever thought, and she was unsure what the future would bring.”
“You don't say. I know a lot of people don't believe what Chuckles is claiming and are more worried about the Qunari. But after what I saw in the Crossroads and seeing so many elves disappear, I know something is going to happen.”
“True, though our dear Inquisitor hasn't told everything that happened.”
Varric looked curiously at him.
Dorian chuckled. “Do you know what the first thing she did was, when she saw Solas?”
“No.”
“She slapped him with all her might.”
Varric sputtered. “She did what?”
“I think it may be not as bad with her at his side.”
“Maybe? I got an extra note with my letter, from the Dread Wolf himself.”
“Really?”
“Yep. He confessed that he had spent the last two years looking over his shoulder, fearing for a shot from my Bianca. He also thanked me for looking out for her.”
They both huffed a laugh and nursed their drinks again.
“Do you blame her?” Varric asked.
“After everything that happened to her and with the Circle looming over her head? No. Though I fear what the future is going to bring.
“If I have learned one thing over the years is that nothing is simple.” Varric lifted his mug. “Let's drink. And I think we will come face to face with her or Solas sooner than we might expect.”
.
Skyhold was once again surrounded by a thick layer of snow. Cullen shivered as the cold wind tugged at his cloak. Winter had the Frostback Mountains full in its grasp. He looked up at the sky where slowly clouds were gathering. There would fall even more snow today. It would delay his departure even further back.
Feeling a little melancholy, he gazed over the walls. It had been almost eight months since the events at the Exalted Council, and soon he and the remaining troops would leave Skyhold for good. The fortress would become a mere outpost now the Inquisition had transferred into the personal honour guard of Divine Victoria.
Currently, the main body and command centre of the Inquisition was stationed in Val Royeaux. Most of the Inquisition's operations had already been transferred; what remained at Skyhold was the clean-up crew.
Cullen looked at how little was left of the once vast field of tents and huts in the valley. So much had already been deconstructed. A caravan of wagons was being loaded to bring the last of the supplies down the mountain. It was strange, they had arrived here with so little, and now they needed weeks to clear out the fortress.
It wasn't really necessary for him to be here, but it felt right to accompany the last of his men personally when they would leave. A final goodbye to another place he had called home.
Three years they had stayed at Skyhold, and somehow it felt like he hadn't achieved anything. True, many things happened here; they had defeated Corypheus and saved Thedas, but if what Ryan had told them about Solas was correct, then Corypheus had only been the beginning. He had a hard time grasping what Solas claimed to be. To
Cullen Fen'Harel was a character from elven folklore. In the past, he had never paid much attention to the Dalish tales about their gods. As an Andrastian, he had always believed that their talks about elven gods were no more than silly fairytales. Even now that he had spent time studying those stories, he wasn't any wiser as to how to prepare for an opponent that claims to have made the very Veil itself. But one thing was for sure, Solas had outsmarted them all, even Leliana.
It had been very sobering to see how many elves had disappeared after Ryan's confrontation with Solas. Over a period of weeks, servants, craftsmen, cooks and cleaners had left. They all disappeared overnight, not leaving any trace behind. And it wasn't only the Inquisition or Orlais that reported the disappearance of elves; it was the same in Fereldan, Nevarra and the Free Marches. Tevinter was keeping quiet, but they gathered enough information to know that they also struggled with people becoming missing. Whole families had left, leaving some alienages almost empty and the servant quarters abandoned. There were even reports of entire Dalish clans that hadn't been seen on their migration paths. It showed just how vastly Solas' network was and how his people had access to every organisation in Thedas.
Maybe the most dangerous thing was that no one could estimate how big Solas' forces really were. It showed just how no one took the elves seriously and how they could have operated without being noticed. Cullen had a hard time convincing others of the dangers those elves could represent. To most, the disappearance was a mere nuisance; they complained because their servants they relied on had left. And for once, they had a hard time finding a replacement.
What they didn't see was the threat those elves could represent. Cullen knew from his own experience how dangerous things could become once Solas would train these elves. The Inquisition itself had started this way; the first soldiers under his command were recruits from Haven, men and women who barely knew how to hold a sword. The same recruits turned out to be brave soldiers that won many battles and helped to defeat Corypheus.
Solas had achieved what hadn't happened in seven hundred years; he was uniting the elves of Thedas. Though Cullen couldn't guess what Solas' plan was. He had said to the Inquisitor that he would destroy the world, but Cullen doubted that Solas would destroy it in such a way that his allies wouldn't survive. But he wondered what Solas' plans meant for the humans. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be peaceful. With how things were now, no human nation would support any claim of the elves for land or power.
He shook his head. No, whatever was going to happen would end in more bloodshed.
His thoughts went to Eirlana. Was she back beside the man she loved? Or had Solas cast her aside just like after the defeat of Corypheus. He felt a pang in his heart thinking of her. He missed her more than he wanted to admit, and although she had rejected him, he hoped that wherever she was, she was happy.
.
Cullen entered his quarters, a familiar headache pulsing in his head. Without Eirlana's healing, his headaches had returned, as well as his cravings for lyrium. He sat down at his desk, feeling drained. With a sigh, he rubbed his tired eyes, knowing there wasn't any escape from his withdrawal. But there was no time to rest; even in an almost abandoned fortress, paperwork was waiting for him. Letting out another sigh, he grabbed a report to be read when his sight fell on a small raven scroll lying in front of him. With a frown, he took it, wondering where the scout had gone to who had delivered this. A message from a raven typically meant they needed a reply immediately. With ease, he broke the seal and unrolled it. A small pressed elfroot leaf fell out of it, and Cullen's heart skipped a beat when he recognised the familiar handwriting.
.
____________________
Cullen
I don't know if you want to hear from me, but I have a request.
Meet me alone at the grove tonight. I will be waiting for you.
Eirlana
.
____________________
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Cullen sat there stunned, re-reading the short message. Why would she contact him? Grabbing a drink from his secret stash, he stared out of the window, not knowing what he should do.
.
The eluvian sprang to life in the small elven ruin. The eluvian was half-buried in the rubble, and Himel had to bow down to step through it. Immediately he checked the surroundings. Soon he was followed by other elven soldiers that spread out and did the same. The eluvian's surface rippled again a short while later, and Solas and Eirlana stepped through it.
Himel returned to them and kneeled down. “There are no signs of any activity in the vicinity, my Lord.”
Solas fussed at the fur collar of Eirlana's cloak, pulling it tighter around her neck. “Wait here for our return.”
“Yes, my Lord.” answered Himel. “Stay safe.” He then directed his men to their stations and guard this place.
“Are you ready?” Solas asked Eirlana, stroking her cheek with his gloved thumb.
Eirlana nodded. “Just a little nervous.”
“We will be alright.” Solas stepped out of the ruins in the open and transformed himself into a huge black wolf. Crouching down, he waited until Eirlana had climbed on his back. Once she had securely grabbed his fur, he rose and took off. The sun was setting, turning the snowy peaks into orange and pink hues wherever the twilight managed to peak through the heavy snow clouds. When they arrived at the mountain ridge surrounding Skyhold, night had fallen, and Solas slowed down. Casting a spell to hide himself and Eirlana, he carefully made his way over the mountaintop and down the valley. As of yet, he couldn't find anything unusual other than that the walls had far fewer guards and that the fires in the settlement surrounding the lake had dwindled in number. Skyhold was almost abandoned. Confident that there was no trap waiting for them, he fade-stepped the last distance into the grove.
Solas waited again, listening, smelling for any sign of trouble before lowering himself so Eirlana could slip off his back. He transformed back and walked with Eirlana to the oak growing at the far end of the grove. Silently Eirlana lay a couple of white flowers on the grave of their unborn daughter. She shivered when Solas took her in his arms, it still hurt that she had lost her, but the pain didn't sting as much as it used to. She could feel how Solas also mourned the loss. It was strange to be with him here together after the years she had mourned alone. But she was grateful they finally could share their loss without the burden of their secrets between them.
She leant against Solas, and he pressed a kiss on her head. “She will always be a part of us.” he said softly. “And who knows, maybe she has decided to come back.” His hand stroked her tummy tenderly. Under his fingers, he could feel the spark of a new life. “You have given life to something precious again.”
She shivered again under his loving stare, which turned concerned immediately.
“Are you alright? Do you feel cold? Do you need something?”
Grabbing his hand, she smiled. “No, I am fine. We both are. Though it's strange to be suddenly in the snow again.” She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Solas' ears twitched as he heard footsteps in the distance.
“Stay back.” he whispered and turned back into a wolf. He narrowed his eyes when he saw the glow of a lamp. Silently he moved forward, curious if Cullen had heeded Eirlana's request.”
.
Cullen stepped into the grove alone. It had just begun to snow, and he peered through snowflakes, wondering if Eirlana would really be here or if he was about to step into a trap. Maybe Leliana was trying to test his loyalty in a twisted way. She had become highly suspicious and vigilant after what happened at the Exalted Council. Seeing no one, he walked further when suddenly a giant black wolf appeared from the dark. It was double the size of a big war-horse, and its six yellow eyes were glaring at him.
Startled, Cullen dropped the lamp and reached for his sword, cursing he hadn't brought his shield.
“Cullen?” Eirlana's voice called for him.
He hesitated to draw his weapon further when he saw her approaching from behind the wolf.
“I come as your friend. Are you alone?” she asked.
“I am alone.” he answered, not taking his eyes of the wolf. It had to be Solas, he thought. Slowly he sheeted his sword and spread his hands. “I am not here to hurt you.”
Eirlana smiled, seeing Cullen's gesture. “Solas, please.” she turned to Solas.
Solas took another deep sniff before he was satisfied that Cullen was telling the truth; with a whoosh, he turned back. He gave him another silent stare before he spoke. “You have nothing to fear from me, Commander. I am merely here to escort her.” He kissed Eirlana on her forehead before he stepped back and leaned his back against a tree, not letting his guard down.
.
Cullen felt a chill running through him; Solas wore a full golden and black elven armor under a black-furred coat. He looked nothing like the humble apostate Cullen knew. Though he had the same face, his body language and expression had changed dramatically. It now screamed confidence and self-esteem, and even without having consumed lyrium for years, Cullen knew he had never faced a more powerful mage.
It was a stark contrast with how Eirlana looked as she approached him. Her armor consisted of a silverite breastplate and arm guards, both of elven design and richly engraved. Under them, she wore finely tailored blue robes that were silver embroidered. Her cloak was lined with white furs. She looked radiant, like a noble elf from one of the old elven legends he recently read. Her hair had been intricately braided and decorated with a silver circlet. He also noticed silver jewellery encasing her left ear. It curled along her whole ear and had a couple of silver chains dangling down. Both jewels were adorned with small blue gems that glittered in the light of the lamp.
Cullen was stunned, not knowing if what he saw was real. Before him stood the two most wanted elves in all of Thedas. And they had just shown up, taking the risk of him betraying her request. Although now Eirlana was coming closer, he also could feel her magic radiating from her. It was stronger than ever before.
“Cullen?”
He realised he had been staring at her. “I...”
Not only Solas demeanour had changed, but she had also changed. She seemed stronger and more at ease. There was an air of self-confidence around her she usually only displayed when she worked as a healer. Her eyes had lost the sadness that he had seen in the past two years. She looked more content, happy. It gave Cullen both a feeling of relief and sadness.
.
“I am sorry about the way we parted ways.” Eirlana smiled at him.
Cullen looked back at Solas for a second. He was still leaning against the tree, he looked relaxed, but Cullen could tell he was listening and watching for any sign of danger.
He focussed back on her; he needed to know. “I understand, but I have to ask. Did you know about Solas?”
“Did I know he is Fen'Harel?”
He nodded.
“Yes, I knew. Did I know about his plans or his involvement against the Qunari at the Exalted Council? No. Though I always intended to leave the Inquisition and look for Solas after the Council.”
It shocked him that she knew about Solas' identity, but it wasn't surprising she had planned to leave the Inquisition. He couldn't see her go into a Circle.
Eirlana huffed a laugh. “This is more difficult than I thought. I want to tell you so much, though I find it difficult to find the right words.”
Cullen rubbed his neck, feeling awkward. This is ridiculous; they used to talk all the time. Why did he freeze now? “How... how are you?” he asked; it was the first thing that popped into his mind.
She looked at her feet, gathering her thoughts. “Good.” she looked at him. “I want to say wonderful, but it is more complicated than that. There is much I need to consider.”
He shook his head lightly and smiled. Her answer reminded him of Solas and how he used to give answers that only resulted in more questions. “I see you have spent much time with Solas.”
A beautiful smile of love and affection spread on her lips, giving Cullen a slight sting of jealousy, but he was also relieved to see her so happy.
“I did.” she answered. “Though many matters demand our attention.” She stared at the mountains in the distance. “Everything is much more complicated than I ever could imagine. Good and evil, right and wrong, they are not so easy to define anymore.” Sighing, she looked back at Cullen. “But I didn't come here to discuss such matters. I came to help you. Your symptoms must have returned for a while now.”
He nodded slowly, perplexed that she put herself in danger for him. They must be aware that both the Inquisition and the Chantry were looking for them. Not that their searches had any results, but they both had to know the danger they put themselves in by coming here. And yet, here she was, taking the risk of being captured just to help him.
.
“Come. Let's sit down.”
She walked towards the frozen water of the grove's spring and sat down on its stone edge. Cullen glanced at Solas, who watched them without saying a word before he followed her. She had removed her gloves and
raised her hands towards his face, activating her magic. He closed his eyes as her familiar magic engulfed him. As always, a sense of relief and peacefulness washed over him, chasing away his headache and discomforts of his lyrium withdrawal. Then something changed; he could feel her magic going deeper. The residual lyrium within him reacted immediately; he could feel it hum and answering the call of her magic. It felt both peaceful and overwhelming at the same time.
Cullen wondered, what more had she learned over these past months?
He took a sharp breath when he could feel the lyrium leave his body, burning away like small timber. It gave him chills throughout his body. He inhaled deeply when the magic finally ebbed away, and he felt cleansed and whole again. A little disorientated, he opened his eyes. Solas had moved next to them and offered his hand to help Eirlana up. He hadn't even heard him approach.
Looking at him, she smiled. “Thank you for coming and honouring our friendship. I won't ask secrecy from you. You may tell everyone what has occurred here.”
She pulled out a satchel from a small bag she carried. “Here this is for the others. It is not as effective as my abilities, but it will help them. I am sorry, but I can't risk it to meet them.”
Still, a little dazed, Cullen took it. “I will see to it that they get it.”
“ I have included the recipe to make more. Adan or any other skilled alchemist should be able to make them.”
Solas suddenly whipped his head around and stared up the walls of Skyhold. They could faintly hear some guards talking. He turned back and pulled Eirlana's hood up. “I am sorry, my love. It is time to leave.”
She nodded and gave Cullen a smile. “Farewell.”
Then she turned around and walked back to one of the bigger oak trees.
Cullen watched her before focussing again on Solas.
Solas studied him before he spoke. “I have to thank you for protecting her when I couldn't. I will never forget what you have done for her. I hope that our paths won't cross when you are operating in the name of the Chantry or the Inquisition. Live well, while time remains.”
He inclined his head and then joined Eirlana. Cullen noticed when he turned he had the same elvish ear ornament that she wore. Only his was crafted from dark metal.
Solas transformed into a giant wolf again and crouched down so Eirlana could climb on his back. Watching them, Cullen stood up and immediately could feel a difference in his body. Gone was the stiffness and the pain he was used to. He huffed, not even remembering a time when he wasn't in discomfort. His head was clear, and the constant calling for lyrium had disappeared.
“Goodbye, Cullen.” Eirlana said to him.
“Goodbye.” he answered. “Eirlana. I... please stay safe.” he then raised his voice a little. “And you! Don't you dare to leave her again, or a swear by the Maker I will...”
The wolf turned his head and closed slowly his to many eyes, as if he was acknowledging him. Eirlana smiled at Cullen and ruffled Solas fur. Cullen watched as they both turned invisible and a trail of paw-prints and disturbed snow let into the darkness. By now, it was snowing heavily, and Cullen knew that their tracks would be gone by the morning. Wondering what the future would bring, he walked back to Skyhold. At that moment, he shared Solas' sentiment and hoped he would never be forced to face Eirlana as an enemy.
.
Solas ran over the mountain passes. His heart tugged as he felt Eirlana's sorrow as they left Skyhold behind. He could understand her pain. She had given up so much to be at his side and would face even more heartbreaking decisions in the future. It was a fate he couldn't spare her from.
Suddenly her hand stroked the fur by his ear. Now they were truly bonded; she could feel his sorrow as he could feel hers. There was a spike of gratitude towards each other as they knew they were not alone.
Travelling through the snow, they went to face an uncertain future. But they knew one thing for sure. Being bonded, they would face it together.
.
This is the end so far. I can't wait for DA 4 to blow our minds again with long lost secrets and hidden lore. And our next heartbreak that will come (thnx Bioware ;p)
We already know that the next wizard in our party will have some hidden agenda. And I hope we will finally be able to romance a dwarf.
Until we meet again, for I am not finished writing fanfiction in the epic world of Dragon Age
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allie1804-fan · 4 years
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Malaise (Chapter 3 Just Friends No Benefits)
Chapter 1, 2
Warnings Brief mentions of sex
A couple of weeks after the appointment with Tara, Keanu found himself at a loose end and really needing to “scratch the itch” as it were. He called Lucy, one of his “friends”
“Oh hey Ke” she said somewhat hesitantly “How are you doing?”
“ah I’m good thanks, just had some free time at last and thought maybe we could re-connect?”
“uh,errm, well that sounds great ……………but I should tell you, things have changed for me in the past few months”
“Oh, how so?”
The phone went quiet at her end for a few seconds.
 “I’m engaged!”
Now there was a pause his end while he sought to process this news, tamp down his personal disappointment and muster some happiness for her!
“Oh my god, congrats, that’s amazing news, who’s the lucky guy?”
Lucy proceeded to tell him how she’d met her new love Jamie and when the wedding was scheduled etc and they concluded the call with her agreeing to a celebratory lunch date with Keanu the following week, somewhere suitably fancy – he was nothing if not chivalrous even as he was letting go of one of his options for sex in future.
He made the next call straight away, figuring that if there was going to be more disappointment, then he might as well get it all done in one go and if there was a chance that one of his “friends” was free, then it would lift him out of the funk Lucy’s news had left him in. Karen agreed to come over later, saying she could tell he was lonely from the tone of his voice but she also said she’d been meaning to talk to him, just talk, for ages so he already felt that the shutters were coming down there too and that hanging out was all they would be doing.
As they tucked into a take-out pizza and beers that evening, they stuck to small talk but when she wiped her mouth after her last piece, Keanu could feel that she was holding back from making a pronouncement.
“Keanu, if I had to guess why I’m here right now, I’d put my money on you being lonely ……..  and horny and hopeful of moving onto the sofa shortly and working your charm on me”
His eyes widened and he took a swig of his beer.
“My, you’re awfully forthright tonight hun!”
“Well it’s true isn’t it, how many times in the past year have we hung out and not had sex?!”
“errrm, none”
“Correct, and the things is, Keanu, much as I love you and much as you are  fun to be around, so  giving and sexy as hell, I need to move on from being, well, one of your fuck buddies basically. Yes, that’s right, I know that I’m not the only one and I know no promises were ever made, that wasn’t the deal, but I want, no, I need a relationship with a man that gives me more. And the longer I am jumping to your tune like some child following the Pied Piper, the less I’m able to be open to a proper grown-up relationship. One where I prioritise what I want and need, something longer term with commitment on both sides. One where that person can give me time and not just occasional fun and  gifts but strictly on his terms. I’m honestly not complaining about what we had. We were both honest about it and it worked then, but not now. I’m sorry.”
Keanu smiled, a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes
“Good while it lasted though huh?”
“Yes!” she grinned “and I’m not breaking up with you, not as a friend, I hope I can always be your friend”
“Sure, of course, no chance of one final send off huh?” he asked, eyes twinkling mischievously
She pushed him in the chest “no way, that’s just a slippery slope right back where we came from, you cheeky boy!”
They hugged and spent another hour or so chatting and getting used to being ‘just friends’, Keanu trying to avoid staring at her breasts like he would normally.
After she’d gone, he called his third option.
“what a glutton for punishment!” he thought. “Might as well choose between becoming a monk or taking out a direct payment to the agency each month if this one doesn’t work out!
It turned out that Martha, his third girl was out of town on a 6 month work placement. When he called, he recognised a European dial tone and she picked up speaking with a sleepy voice. It was about 7am where she was in Italy.  The opportunity had come up out of the blue and she’d only been there a week and hadn’t gotten round to telling people who weren’t in her immediate circle that she was going.
They talked briefly and he said he would try and tie in a visit if he was in Europe whilst she was still there. He might have movie promo or a bike related trip to make. He hung up feeling utterly dejected. Two of his options were done for good and he wouldn’t mind betting that Martha would meet some gorgeous Italian stallion while she was there and that would be that, finished.
 “God you’re pathetic Reeves” he said out loud to no-one. “The world is your oyster, you’re single - check, rich – check, OK looking – check, what the hell is your problem?”
He took himself off to bed, found some porn to watch and jerked off angrily but despite the ejaculation, the satisfied sleep that should follow eluded him, and when he awoke as dawn was breaking through, he felt a grey malaise shrouding his senses, dulling his movements and fogging his brain.
He had a new film starting in a month’s time but he couldn’t concentrate on any of the character research he should have been doing, learning his lines or working out to make sure he looked the part.  He would look at his phone and think about calling the agency but he didn’t want to get hooked and for that to be his only sexual outlet just seemed kind of tragic. For a couple of weeks  he’d spend his days either sleeping or drinking or tooling  around on his bike for hours up in the mountains. None of that helped him to shake the sense of emptiness and foreboding that filled his spirit.
First his mother noticed he was being slightly morose when they met for lunch one day. He was usually charming with her but he was monosyllabic and not the least bit enthused about their meal, his new film or the latest bike launch with Arch. Patricia flagged her worries to Karina who called round on spec a few days after to find him lolling on the sofa, listening to John Coltrane. His hair was unwashed, he smelled of whiskey and cigarettes and he’d clearly told his housekeeper to stay away for at least 2 weeks.
Alex was next to join the list of people telling him they were worried about him and begging him to share his worries. Even Rob, his band mate who was often a bit oblivious to others’ problems, could tell just from the flatness in his voice when he spoke to him on the phone.
Keanu assured them all that he just needed to get back to work.  
A week before he was due back, with little done to prepare still, he made a decision and called the agency again for Tara. He left instructions about repeating something they had done before that fell into the ‘unusual’ category. It wasn’t that weird but certainly outside the realms of straight sex. When Tara saw the request, she wondered if something was wrong too. That last time he had this request, he had been out of sorts mentally. When he messaged her about dinner, she chose Ramen noodles thinking that would be light and vaguely healthy. She didn’t imagine burgers or pizzas would do him good if he was in a funk about something.  She chose a cosy, close fitting woollen dress in cream for their “date” and hoped she could sooth him if he was troubled.
Keanu greeted her at the door bare foot and freshly showered. Truth be told he hadn’t showered for days before that and, since he had shunned the housekeeper for 2 weeks, just half an hour before her arrival he had cleared up and shoved a load of rubbish and dirty clothes in the garage where she wouldn’t see. The ramen arrived soon after her and they ate in comfortable silence.
 “You OK, Keanu. You look a little tired if you don’t mind me saying. Are you on a shoot again? You don’t usually see me when you’re shooting”
 “naaah, next week,  shooting starts next week and I’m so not ready!”
 “That’s not like you”
“I know, I know, I dunno what’s wrong really, so I figured ……………….”
“Do you really think THAT will help?”
“Well , yeah, don’t you?”
“Not sure to be honest, I’m pretty sure sex would help but that kind of sex???”
What he had asked was for her to tie him up and take him. They had not done that in a long while. The last time her feeling was that it was driven by a deep inner need to submit all control and give up calling the shots. She hadn’t understood then what brought it on but afterwards, he’d gone off to New York, filmed John Wick and made an absolutely cracking film. Maybe this would work for him this time too.
Tara enjoyed the feeling of power at bringing him very slowly to a powerful release and she could feast her eyes on him the whole time and tease him, frustrated as he was not to be able to touch her breasts, lying totally at her mercy.
Afterwards she stayed much longer for the aftercare, making them both a cocoa and trying to get him to open up. He confessed about the friends with benefits situation and she posed the idea that maybe, faced with escorts being his only option and finding that lacking, just maybe his needs emotionally were changing.
“Maybe  it’s time to let your guard down again and let someone in”
“dangerous territory” he muttered
“for who?” she pushed, arching an eye-brow.
“no good has ever come of it, not for me and not for them”
“and how many tries have there been?” she pushed. “how many in the last 10 years say”
He formed his fingers into a 0
“thought so” she said smugly “you don’t even know how it would go if you don’t try”
@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers
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kyndaris · 4 years
Text
“99 Little Bugs In The Code...”
With the release of so many titles during the holiday season of 2020, I was barely able to keep up. But, what I was saddened to learn were the plethora of bugs and glitches that permeated the video games I enjoy. In fact, after researching ways to resolve an initial issue where a cutscene refused to load but Eivor was unable to move, I discovered a series of different problems that could possibly prevent me from wrapping up the story of the video game. Cue the anxiety.
I am quite proud to admit that most games I have started, I have actually finished. If not the platinum trophies, then the main story and many of the side activities along with a hefty amount of trophies to showcase my dedication to the game. Often, when I’m writing up impressions/ reviews/ analysis of the narrative in video games, I’d have explored nearly every nook and cranny of the fantastical world I’ve been thrust in. While some people prefer to power through the story and finish the game like The Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt in approximately 50 hours, I spent almost an entire day just sailing around Skellige, seeking out the treasure chests and vanquishing any and all question marks that remained on the world map.
A game is not finished until the credits roll. But until that happens, I’ll be doing all that I can to take in the sandbox developers have built around me.
As such, when I encountered a game-breaking bug in Grand Theft Auto V, I was devastated. No matter what I did, the mission circle would not appear. Even as I scoured the internet for a solution, I was unable to make the yellow circle appear in order for me to continue the story. 
My only recourse would be to start the game afresh.
But I had already invested so much time and energy to get where I was. Could I handle another 30 or 40 hours to reach the point where I was at?
It was a hard thing for me to do, but in the end, I simply let it go. It is disheartening for me to admit, but I never finished the story in Grand Theft Auto V. I had neither the time or the energy to go through what I had done before. After all, what if the same error occurred? Then I would have put in so much effort, only for it to go unrewarded.
Besides, I still had a mountain of games to get through.
As I have gotten older, I’ve also become more appreciative of the time I spend with each game. And though I’ve not many other commitments, besides my writing and Netflix, I still feel that my time is quite precious. So, why would I want to waste it on trying to repeat the same things if it might not resolve the problem I faced? 
What’s worse is that I also feel the pressure to get my hands on the latest and greatest video games. Developers are pumping these monsters out in record speed and it is hard to sink my teeth into each and every world. I also feel bad, as someone that blogs about the video games I play, that I’m not keeping enough of my readers entertained with my thoughts on the latest releases. But, because I’m not recognised as a video game reviewer, I don’t receive any of these earlier than other people. In fact, I often have to go out of my way just to pick them up, pop them into my console and start playing on Day 1 or Day 73 (depending on the other titles in my relatively imposing pile of shame).
But maybe I just simply put too much expectations on myself and you, the few readers that I have, are content with anything that I put out. Even if it doesn’t arrive as timely as it can. 
In any case, I’m somewhat heartened by the latest patches for Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla because it was incredibly frustrating to know that I had a treasure hoard I should have been able to collect, but not being able to loot anything in Ledecestrescire. And by the time I finally get to Cyberpunk 2077, it’ll hopefully look a lot better on my PlayStation 4 Pro and most of the kinks will have been ironed out.
I dread to think when I’ll finally be able to play Trails of Cold Steel 4. Why, I hear you ask? Because I still haven’t even STARTED Trails of Cold Steel 3.
Then there are the new games I’m eagerly looking forward to such as Kena: Bridge of Spirits and Horizon: Forbidden West. 
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profanetools · 4 years
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sorry to take a jokey AU and make it serious, but would it be like, “gives up everything for love in a bad, annoying way” if kagrenac realised she was miserable in the situation where she got exactly what she wanted and decided to make herself mortal again to track down bthemetz and make amends?
because i think that, in my own canon:
1. by the time of 1E700 kagrenac had established herself as essentially the unspoken “prince” of the dwemeri “court” (debate hall) through various tactics and often clever, often cruel manouvering, because she saw that kind of unity as *necessary* to allow her to do what she needed to do without question (the fact that she saw a question there as a bad thing... boy)
2. emotionally speaking, this leaves her in a place where the only people she feels comfortable being truly herself around are people who have known her prior to her meteoric rise, during her ‘wilderness years’ where she was trying to train as a tonal architect and remake herself into the woman she is now - the number of which are very few, reliably only Bthemetz and Dumac - the former defied her/betrayed her, the latter died too soon. she has ascended, but ascended wearing a mask that she cannot remove, with a fierce love for her apprentices -- but there is still a lot on her shoulders.
3. while she does some very cold, callous things, she does not like herself for it. she accepts it, because she believes it is necessary. but she’s not a cold, unfeeling person, and has just become very practised at burying those feelings. & i think there is an absolutely immense amount of guilt she feels about how things panned out with Bthemetz. like, 1E700 Kagrenac is an absolute mess of a person who is struggling to contain self-loathing while her paranoia is through the roof & she is trying to keep hold of the reigns, too tightly. she’s not happy about what she has done and having achieved her aims all she has gained is time to ruminate on that. i know it’s a classic ‘be careful what you wished for’ scenario, but still.
4. i think she does take a great deal of pleasure from mentoring and helping apprentices reach their full potential & part of the reason why she was so politically successful was through maintaining this close network of apprentices through converting them to acolytes and loyal followers. this was political but also something she genuinely enjoyed doing. i don’t think she gets there and is like [immediate angst]. i think after ascension, she takes a political back seat, & there are a number of reforms that essentially relegate her to a mentor with an honorary role rather than a voice with real power. that takes off some of the load. she finds herself softening up, healing, somewhat, being proud of being able to raise apprentices, and gains fulfilment through that, but also i think this inability to speak openly + this remainder of guilt really prevents her from finding peace. it takes her a while to realise this. perhaps it’s possible she does actually make quasi-friends, or even real friends, again, but through speaking to them that just cements the fact that she still feels guilt/a wound.
5. so i think she apprentices people for several generations, but eventually, decides to stop taking any more on. and after the last one graduates, instead of retiring to a life of leisure or adopting her own family, she makes the decision to return and apologise/make amends to Bthemetz. not because she spent her divine afterlife tortured the entire time, despondent, in agony. But it did eat away at her, and she eventually - much like Bthemetz, after too long - decided not to ignore the things that ate away at her.
6. hypothetically this is where this fic could occur.
7. alternatively: she goes back to Nirn, to Bthemetz, to apologise, to make amends. not to ask forgiveness - that cannot be asked, & it is not what she seeks, really, her approval or acceptance. she just wants to do right. it is not about love, in the sense of, i would give my life away for you, but it is about love, in the recognition of, i recognise you are important and worthy and meant the world to me, once, and i recognise that is was heinously cruel for me to entrap you in a political game that you could not win, that it was cruel for me to pick away at your allies one by one, to make you feel so helpless that you felt treason was the only option. i recognise too that what i did to the heart was unjust, beyond words. that i am not infallible. that while the others might not recognise it, the world i have made is through violence.
there is no expectation of love, or forgiveness, in return (I have a lot of qualms about the concept of forgiveness honestly). it is about justice. & bthemetz does not make it easy for her. she asks if she will help her, finally, escape her prison - it is not a demand, but a request - & kagrenac accepts. they end up going on lots of quiet journeys through windy mountains and empty deserts and beneath starless skies.
perhaps they fall in love again. perhaps they don’t -- but in that case, i do think they at least find some measure of friendship and comfort in each other. things heal, slowly. it takes time, and effort, but neither of them were ever unwilling to dedicate either of those things to each other.
they are each other’s companion until the end. they grow old together. (& in a sense, that was always what they wanted too). 
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padfootdidit · 6 years
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Watch Us Rise
CHAPTER FOUR
After a bit of a wait here is chapter four! There’s a bit more plot, a bit more marauders, a bit more jily and a bit more Snape. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it. Let me know what you think!
As always thanks to the amazing @htcake for betaing and making this bearable<3
canon: sixth year | word count: 4.4k | ao3: read here
Hogwarts, September 1976
The fight is all anyone talks about for the next few days, but as in most semi-contained social eco systems it only takes another, just as dramatic event to catch everyone’s attention. This time it’s a third year accidentally accioing a girl’s robes. Lily is there when the accio event happens and it really is an accident, and far less dramatic then the fight, but she doesn’t mind that people have something new to talk about. She knows Remus has never liked this level of attention, even if Peter takes some enjoyment in stopping Madame Pomfrey from healing him and showing off his bruises much longer than he needs to. Plus, if people are talking about the fight, they’re also talking about the Slytherin boys and she’s definitely had enough of hearing about them. It’s bad enough being in Potions with three of them.
Especially when, in the last week of September, Sev and her are the first ones to arrive at the deserted dungeons. Maya is finishing the essay due in and Mary had forgotten her books and told Lily to go on while she sprinted back to the dorm.
She almost scarpers when she comes down the stairs and spots him there, alone, flicking through the textbook. From the steps she can see all his scribbling on the pages, his handwriting almost as familiar as her own. He looks up before she can hide and there’s a short second where his face lights up and Lily thinks he’s going to smile. He doesn’t.
Lily hoists her bag higher on her shoulder, resolutely deciding that she’s not going to give him the power to stop her from doing everything normally. She can stand behind him, waiting for everyone else. It doesn’t need to be a big deal. So she ignores the pain in her ribs, her heart, and simply joins him by the door, eyes fastened on the steps, hoping Mary hurries the fuck up.
“How- how- what do you think of Slughorn this year?” Sev says a few moments later, and Lily jerks her head around to look at him, almost in disbelief. He’s not looking at her. His eyes are firmly on the steps too and a distant part of her mind wonders what’s holding Avery and Rosier up.
“I think he’s being more dramatic.” She answers flatly, wishing she was able to ignore him just like she’d planned to do when she’d thought about this situation happening. If she was Marlene, or Maya, she could turn a cold shoulder or tell him to sod off.
Mudblood mudblood mudblood, in her head the scene replays, and she can see them all standing in a circle of other students, hatred and anger and confusion pushing them towards each other and tearing them away at the same time. But she can also see him lying on her bedroom floor, staring pensively up at her ceiling, asking how long it took her to cut out all the stars that are stuck up there. You can see the stars in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, you know. The real ones. He’d given her so much. Tried to take it all away too.
"I didn’t realise he could be more dramatic,” he laughs, cuts it off quickly. “At least he’s only given us one essay.”
“Yeah,” she pauses and mudblood deafens her. “Sev… We’re not-“
“I know.” He says it softly, still not looking at her, and she’s not sure what hurts more. Mudblood. I know.
There’s a sudden clatter of footsteps and Mary and Maya appear, followed closely by the rest of the class. At the same time Lily sees Avery and Rosier amongst the herd, Sev steps away from her, almost instinctively, and that hurts more than anything he could have said.
Don’t you dare cry over him, Evans. She bites back foolish tears as Maya and Mary join her at her side, shooting quizzical looks but knowing better than to say anything, partly in case they are overheard and partly because she’ll tell them when she’s ready. The Slytherins, led by Avery, leer at the Marauders, apparently hoping to goad them into a pre-class scuffle. In a surprising show of restraint though, Potter’s only response is to loudly ask Black what he’d thought of the article in the Prophet that morning about the Slytherins who slipped down the ladder of success.
Just as Black is telling Potter that he’d thought it rather insightful, Slughorn appears and ushers them in, tutting at the boys and jokingly asking them if they’re going to behave in his lesson.
Afterwards, Mary asks what Sev said to her but Lily brushes the question off and, thankfully, they don’t push it.
“I miss summer,” Maya moans, flinching at the cold as she presses her hand to the dorm window. Where she’s touched it, there’s a handprint in the frost and through the panes they can see snow on the tops of the distant mountains.
“It’s only been gone a week,” Lily says. October had arrived sharply, booting out the sun and heat very matter-of-factly and making up for how lazy summer had been in leaving. It hasn’t been sunny for quite some days, to the point that the Hufflepuffs had had to call off a training session on Tuesday because of the unforgiving wind.
“Still, I miss it.” Maya says and pulls her hijab closer round her neck. Their dorm is warm, even cosy, and it’s absolute shit that they can’t say the same for the rest of the castle. They’ve just got back from the library and walking through the halls had felt more like diving into the lake.
There’s a small tapping noise and Lily looks up from deciding which jumper is thickest and towards the window. Maya gets there first and lets the owl in. It hoots a thank you and flies over to settle on the headboard of Lily’s four poster, looking a little bit worse for wear.
“It’s Acklebey,” Maya can recognise the Hogwarts owl Lily uses to write to her parents and by now all of the girls have become familiar enough with each other’s mailing habits, so there’s no need to explain her excited grin as she hurries to untie the letter. The owl flies off as soon as she’s unattached the envelope, probably desperate to get to the shelter of the owlery. “You go down to dinner, I’ll catch you up.” She tells Maya, no longer hungry but desperate to read her mother’s words. Maya double checks that she’s sure, tugs on a jumper and then closes the door behind her.
Lily settles onto her bed and tears open the envelope, recognising her mum’s handwriting immediately.
Lily,
It was so good to get your last letter. I’m glad you’re writing so much. Your dad and I miss you lots n your letters make our week! Tuney is all moved out now and we’ve only chatted on the telephone a few times, but I think she’ll visit at Christmas.
About your letter: it’s good you’re enjoying the year so much. God knows your dad and I never liked school as much as you. Can you explain what human transfiguration involves… it sounds a bit too dangerous for younguns to be trying. Good that Potions is going well like usual, that teacher of yours definitely sounds like he knows what he’s doing.
Hopefully you’ll keep up with all your work, but it does sound like you’re getting a lot. Makes me tired just reading the number of feet.
Here everything is normal. Colder now September is over but your dad has more shifts down the mine and his cough seems to be getting better. He can’t finish the crossword without you and misses you a lot. I think I already said that.
Val popped in yesterday to say hi and asked how you were getting on. Everyone wants to know how you are! She brought over some apple pie but it’s too sweet for me. Maybe I’ll ask her to bake one I can send to you. Would you like that?
I’m sorry this letter’s so short, I’ve got about two loads of washing on and I promised I’d do the cake for Sunday’s service so I’m very busy. Say hello to all your friends.
Lots of love, your mum and dad x
She doesn’t realise she’s crying until a teardrop hits the paper, lined and clearly ripped out of a notebook,  and she wipes them away quickly because there’s no need to cry. She just misses them. A lot.
Lily reads the letter a few more times, then grabs some parchment and writes an immediate reply. She explains the theory behind human transfiguration and tells her mum not to worry, there’s only a small chance she’ll get an extra leg. Then she asks about her dad’s cough, because she didn’t even know her dad had a cough to begin with. He’d had a ‘tickle in his throat’ over summer, but that had been there for years and no one ever paid much attention to it. Then she just writes and, by the time the girls come back from dinner, carrying a few new potatoes and sausages in a napkin for her, she’s got five sides of parchment finished.
“Do you want to write my letters home for me?” Marlene asks, taking a bite from one of the sausages before she hands her the food. “My mum would kill to get that many pages.”
“And mine,” Tegan says. Lily laughs and carefully folds the parchment up and tucks the pages into one of the muggle envelopes she keeps in her bedside table.
“Bad daughters,” Mary says with a shake of her head. “It’s not that hard.”
“You haven’t got Potter’s training schedule to contend with,” Marlene says, looking sick at the mere thought of it.
Lily licks the envelope and then asks, “What’s he got you doing now?”
“Four training sessions, two fitness ones and a strategy meeting every Wednesday lunch.” Tegan tells them with a dead expression behind her eyes and Maya, Mary and Lily all pull faces. Lily loves Quidditch but she’s glad she doesn’t have to play, especially with Potter as her captain too; for someone who prides himself on his casual façade, Lily’s heard enough stories, and seen enough, to know how much of a dictator he can be when Quidditch is involved.
“If he mentions the trophy one more time, I’m going to steal it and bludgeon him to death with it,” Marlene groans from where she’s sprawled face-down on Lily’s bed.
“I’ll help.” Tegan picks her beater’s bat up from where it’s propped upright at the end of the bed and pretends Mary’s old, stuffed bunny is Potter’s face. Mary rescues her bunny with a squeak of outrage, and they all squeeze onto Lily’s bed and listen to Marlene coming up with different ways to remove Potter’s legs from the rest of him.
“Oh, by the way, first Hogsmeade trip next weekend!” Mary says excitedly, once talk about murdering Potter has died down and they’re just ribbing Marlene for flirting with the new fifth year chaser. “It went up on the board over dinner.”
“Three Broomsticks?” Suggests Tegan.
“No I was thinking we could try out the Hog’s Head,” Marlene says sarcastically. They go to the Three Broomsticks every trip, it’s routine by now.
Tegan throws her a derisive glance from where she’s sat. “Whatever. Maybe you’ll be going to Puddifoot’s anyway, since you’re basically married,” Tegan jibes and, with a growl, Marlene dives at her. They fall off the bed and Maya, Mary and Lily lean over the side to watch them scuffle on the floor.
“Do you think this is because Marlene has about a hundred brothers?” Maya asks, sounding genuinely curious, as a snarling Marlene straddles Tegan and tries to get her in a headlock.
“Nah, it’s just because she’s feral,” Mary says and nods her head when Maya looks at her questioningly.
Lily pretends to think about the question, “Maybe it’s because Tegan doesn’t have any brothers. All the testosterone from the quidditch team is rubbing off on her because she’s not used to it.”
Maya and Mary stretch out an understanding “ah” and Tegan manages to give them the middle finger before overpowering Marlene and bending her arm behind her back. Mary throws a pillow into the mix and before anyone can blink, an arm extends from the tangle and she gets dragged into the fray too. Lily laughs but it’s quickly and efficiently cut off by Mary grabbing her wrist and yanking her off the bed, using her as a human shield whilst Tegan pummels them with the pillow.
The Hogsmeade weekend comes quickly and Lily and the girls race down the stairs, feeling a bit seasick by the time they reach the Entrance Hall. On trip days the stairs tend to get a lot more excited, as if they know how much everyone wants to get out of the castle and are trying to stop them.
With his usual litany of muttered complaints, Filch herds them into the line already stretching back from the doors, and demands to see their permission slips. He spends about five minutes inspecting each of them, and almost refuses to believe that Mary’s is real. It takes some time to persuade him, but then they’re out of the doors and huddling together as they follow the stream of students.
“I hate Scotland.” Tegan’s voice is muffled behind her scarf as they fight their way against the wind. “You never get shit like this in the valleys.” There’s no point replying because the wind would just snatch away any conversation, so they stay silent until they reach the Three Broomsticks and can recover from the biting gusts.
Maya points out the Marauders sat at one of the tables near the back, already surrounded by bags from Zonkos and she, Mary and Tegan go to join them whilst Lily and Marlene queue at the bar.
“You meeting your brothers?” Asks Lily while they wait to be served.
“Can you believe them? They said it was ‘too embarrassing’ to go for lunch with me,” Marlene says, drawing quote marks in the air. “All three of them. Bunch of traitors.”
Lily shakes her head in support, “Wankers, all of them.”
“Even Arnie and he’s only eleven. He doesn’t even know what embarrassment is.”
“What can I get you ladies?” Madame Rosmerta interrupts their conversation and they order four hot chocolates and a butterbeer.
“How is he getting on?” Lily asks once their drinks are being made.
Marlene shrugs, “Okay, I think. He’s got friends but I think he’s struggling with all the new magic. He never expected there to be so much theory.”
Lily thinks about how much theory they have in sixth year and laughs, “You gonna warn him?”
“I would if we had had lunch today,” Marlene says jutting her chin out. Lily grins and then accepts the tray from Madame Rosmerta, levitating it over to the table because she doesn’t want to risk dropping it. Tegan picks it up out the air and sets it down on the table, handing the drinks out.
“Butterbeer? In the morning,” Remus says, feigning outrage.
“Fuck off Lupin,” Marlene says and flicks some of the froth into his face.
“What’s that?” Asks Lily, leaning across the table to see what Potter and Black are reading. It’s a small pamphlet with a sketch of Hogwarts on the front.
“’A hit by hex commentary of the confrontation that has the whole castle talking’,” says Potter, pitching his voice to a tone that reminds Lily of him in first year.
"By Gilderoy Lockhart,” adds Black.
Lily frowns, “The Ravenclaw boy who tried to kick Peeves out the castle last year?”
“Hogwart’s very own Narcissus,” Remus confirms.
“What’s he saying?” Tegan asks, cradling her chin in her hand to listen.
Black clears his throat and then begins reading, “’If you weren’t lucky enough to witness the fight that everyone’s been talking about then, fear not, because our Editor-in-Chief, the one and only Gilderoy Lockhart was there and has all the action for you, straight from the side lines.’”
“Editor-in-Chief?” Marlene snatches the pamphlet from Black’s hand and looks at the back where there’s a list of contributors. “’Editor-in-Chief, Gilderoy Lockhart. Editor, Gilderoy Lockhart. Researcher, Gilderoy Lockhart. Manufacturing, Gilderoy Lockhart. Publisher, Lockhart Incorporated…’ Is this even allowed?”
“He was handing them out in the Entrance Hall until Filch confiscated them off him,” Peter shrugs, “so probably not.”
“Filch will confiscate anything though. Remember when he tried to take those dungbombs off us in third year?” Pouts Black, snatching the pamphlet back and tossing it onto the table. On the other side a sketch of Lockhart himself grins toothily up at them all, hair waving slightly.
“I wonder why he’d do a thing like that,” Maya says and rolls her eyes. Black pointedly refuses to acknowledge her comment.
“Apparently he’s petitioning Dumbledore to start an official Hogwarts newspaper.” Remus, wanting to get back on the subject, says and flips the pamphlet over to point at the title. Lily reads it upside down. If The Walls Could Talk.
“Sounds more like a gossip rag if you ask me,” Tegan says, although she does look interested. Students at Hogwarts are bred to be interested in everyone’s business and the idea of it being delivered routinely in a neat little phamplet isn’t too shabby.
“Funny you should say that…” Peter points to the contents, squashed below the sketch of the castle. He reads it out, “Page 1, Current Affairs; page 2, Affairs.”
"Very tasteful,” Lily says with a snort that almost sprays her friends with hot chocolate.
“Which does your fight fall under?” Asks Mary innocently.
“Ha,” Potter smirks, “both.” He stretches his arms into the air and then clasps his hands behind his head, knocking Black’s shoulder in the process.
“Arrogance isn’t a virtue you know,” Maya tuts.
“Let him have it, it’s his only personality trait,” Marlene says dryly. This gets a laugh out of everyone but Potter just frowns, looking genuinely upset. Although Lily can’t be sure, because she hasn’t got all of his facial expressions catalogued. That would mean she’d spent a long time looking at him, and that definitely is not the case.
They all leave just as it starts snowing, the hot chocolate in her stomach not hot enough to keep Lily warm for longer than a second. She shivers as the snow finds its way to every bit of her exposed skin and wishes she had a time-turner so she could dress more warmly this morning.
“No scarf?” Potter asks, letting the other three boys pull ahead with a more relaxed strut.
Lily looks up at him, ignoring Marlene’s eyebrows behind him. “At the bottom of my trunk. I thought the summer might hold out a little longer.”
“This is Scotland,” he smiles and then unwinds his scarf from his neck before holding it out to her. She waves it away, words stuck in her throat, so he just wraps it around her neck, warm fingers brushing her skin once, twice. “I’m built to handle the cold.”
“With all your layers of fat?” Finally she finds her voice, and manages to raise an eyebrow too. Cool, cool.
“Exactly Evans,” Potter grins and takes a step back, sliding his hands into his pockets, “exactly.”
“Thanks,” she says, before he turns away.
“What are friends for,” he winks and then turns, almost slipping on the wet ground but catching himself just in time. He jogs to catch up with the boys and Lily imagines the blush on his face.
“Nice scarf,” Maya says, slinging her arm over Lily’s shoulder at the same time Mary does. Lily blushes and ducks her head down, burying her chin into the scarf and pretending not to hear her friends.
October drags, sticking its heels in and refusing to leave. The snow doesn’t settle, just leaves the grounds soggy and the castle cold. Professors take the opportunity to give the sixth years even more work and Lily finds herself in the library every spare moment, trying to finish essays before she is handed the next one.
Distractions worm their way in though, and she finds herself playing Exploding Snap with the Marauders or walking down to the pitch to watch the Gryffindor’s practice or flicking through to the back of Witch Weekly. One day she even finds herself reading through all of Lockhart’s If The Walls Could Talk, which Filch had officially classed as contraband two weeks ago. A perk of being a prefect though is that she still gets access to all the contraband she confiscates, so she hides herself behind a pile of books on conjuring spells and flicks through the copies.
Rumour has it that Lucinda Talkalot is only second rate on the pitch, but first rate in bed… What a lot of people don’t know is that the Lockhart family actually founded… To take a sneak peek inside the library’s Restricted... This week in the Hufflepuff’s surprisingly rowdy… her eyes wander over the pages, taking in the Affairs section but skipping over the Current Affairs, which always seem to relate back to Lockhart or his family’s achievements.
She pretends she’s reading all of them just for something to do. But she also pushes all the other copies to the side when she finds the one she wants.
… straight from the side lines. It all began with a single, off-hand comment from Slytherin Quidditch team member Evan Rosier. “How did your summer go?” He asked the handsome member of the Marauders, Sirius Black. This was apparently a touchy subject for Mr Black, who didn’t answer Rosier’s question but instead hexed him. James Potter, Marauder and man who got rejected by Lily Evans… Lily stops reading and takes a steadying breath. …was not happy about this and soon it was an all-out brawl. The Marauders can certainly handle themselves in a fight, but so can Slytherins and it’s hard to say who would have won if Professor McGonagall, hard line teacher and animagus, hadn’t intervened.
“Not the best writer, is he?” Potter announces himself, appearing suddenly over her stack of books and making her jump. Lily slams the pamphlet down and pushes the pile away, although it’s too late to pretend she hadn’t been reading it. Potter winks as if he’s just discovered some big secret and is promising not to share it. “Don’t worry, we all have guilty pleasures.”
“It’s not… I was just…” Lily pulls her wand from her bun and arranges her hair to calm herself down. “I thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.”
Potter grins and asks, “Which one were you perusing… ah,” he snatches up the one she’d dropped like it’d burnt her. “Thought this was old news by now?”
“Took it off a Slytherin beater this morning. They’re still not over it,” she says, happy to have some sort of defence.
“No,” he drops down into the other chair, “they don’t seem to have the ability to get over things. Terrible at obstacle courses, I heard.” Potter smiles at his own terrible joke, half hiding it behind the pamphlet. Lily struggles not to smile back. “Hey,” he looks up, “I tell you who else hasn’t gotten over this. Pa- Black. He won’t stop quoting it to us. ‘The handsome member of the Marauders’ has really gone to his head. I don’t suppose you could do a mate a favour and –“
“Confiscate his copy?” Interrupts Lily.
“He’s got eight copies, Evans, eight! I don’t know where he’s getting them from. Every time I throw one away, another is on my pillow when I get back.” He shakes his head and tilts the chair back, looking quite put out by the whole thing, “Disgusting.”
“I did always think it was Remus who was the handsome one,” Lily says, looking at him out of the corner of her eye whilst she pretends to flick through the other pamphlets.
“Each to their own, I’ve always rather fancied Pete myself.”
“Potter?” She looks at him suddenly, the thought burning in her head since she read the story.
He looks at her. His smile hesitates, as if he knows what’s coming. “Evans?”
“Is his summer a touchy subject?”
Potter tilts the chair back further. Runs a hand through his hair. Considers her. Runs a hand through his hair again. Then he says, “I don’t know if I’m the one you should be asking.”
This is a fair answer. This is also a true answer, but Lily knows Black would sooner give Lockhart an exclusive on his summer than answer any questions she has about it. “But he’s okay? That’s what I meant.”
“He had a change of address,” Potter says, no longer looking at her and setting his chair back down. He hands her back the pamphlet and sounds eerily expressionless when he speaks again. “Good luck with all that reading.”
She doesn’t want him to leave on a sour note. Not that it’s sour. Just… stale. “Where are you going?” He swings around and shrugs, half smile, his half smile on his face.
“Got some planning to do. Can’t be known as the Marauder who got rejected by Lily Evans forever, can I? Need to make a name for myself.” His hazel eyes meet hers for a second, almost as if daring her to keep talking about the subject, but then -
“Shh!” Madam Pince appears, armed with her feather duster and a half manic look in her eyes.
“See you around, Evans,” Potter stage-whispers before saluting Pince. The librarian replies by chasing him with her duster. Lily watches him out the library and then drops her head onto the desk and groans to herself. You’re a knob.
A few seconds later, she’s jerking her head up again as a first year timidly approaches and shoves a familiar looking scroll onto the desk. Before Lily can ask anything or say thank you, the first year runs off and disappears amongst the shelves. She shakes her head and unfurls the scroll, happy to see that this year Slughorn has skipped the exploding confetti.
Dear Miss Evans,
It has been too long delayed but I would now like to cordially invite you to a meal to celebrate the start of the school year on 15th November. There will of course be excellent food and, as always, stimulating company. Do let me know if you’ll be in attendance, although I’m not sure what else you have to be doing!
Prof. H. Slughorn
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mvssmallow · 6 years
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Cloudy With A Chance
Chapter 29 Part II: …of swimming pools
Masterlist
Everyone tells them that she has his dimples and eyes but every time he looks at her face, all he can see is Jiwon’s toothy smile and cheeky smirk. They paint her room pale blue but her shoes are always red, like the shade of shiny ripe apples.
****
He tells himself, time after time, not to take anything for granted. And he doesn’t. Not Jiwon’s undivided attention, or how he always asks for advice (as if there weren’t more qualified people in his life to give them), or texts and phone calls about nothing. On top of that list is waking up next to that familiar warm body with all it’s reassuring weight, living and breathing beside him.
He knows that soon enough, in the not too distant future, all these things will fade and become few and far between. He knows it’s coming, like stormclouds on the horizon. But you can’t get on top of the mountain without shedding a few things. Sacrifices and compromises will have to be made and if he has to be the one doing most of that, so be it.
I guess that’s what you get for being in love with someone so amazing.
It’s so easy to love Jiwon in his mind and in his heart but it’s still difficult to say it out loud, he doesn’t pretend that it’s getting easier as the months go by, because it doesn’t. If anything, it’s even worse because the stakes keep getting higher and higher.
Love is for crazy people. Crazy brave people. He doesn’t want to admit that it’s hard but it is. Acknowledging all their feelings makes everything real. To accept that he’s in love is to accept that he’s now got a weakness and responsibility. To be attached to someone is to leave yourself vulnerable to the possibility that they might one day leave. But it’s all or nothing, he can’t have all the good parts without accepting the bad. Love takes all kinds of courage. There’s no bravery in being alone, there’s just survival, which isn’t the same thing. Before Jiwon, he’s pretty sure he wasn’t living at all, just merely surviving.
Maybe Jiwon’s trip to Japan wasn’t such a bad thing. He can get used to being alone again and wean himself off needing Jiwon so much. Not that he wants to admit that either but one day, he won’t get to decide anymore. He won’t be in control of their lives and wanting Jiwon won’t be as easy as just reaching out across some crumpled sheets and wordlessly demanding it. At some point, he won’t be the most important thing in Jiwon’s life and he’ll have to wait for the sun to shine his way, like everyone else.
Right on cue, as if Jiwon heard him waking up, a text message buzzes on his phone.
[morning baby, its freezing here! its gonna be sunny in sk tho]
[thnx for packing the coat, wearin it now]
Yeah, he’s going to miss this so much one day, especially being called baby. Nobody has ever called him that before. He hates it; how much he loves hearing it. Yes, call me baby. I am your baby.
[hey, you’re welcome. How are you feeling? How’s the hangover?]
[im ok. headache tho]
[did you take the tablets I packed?]
[yeah i did, thanks]
[wish i was there with you]
[you are]
[what?]
[took you with me]
There’s a photo that loads on his screen. It’s all the layers of clothes on Jiwon’s chest: a pink t-shirt underneath a familiar gray hoody underneath that caramel coloured coat that they both share.
He knows what Jiwon’s doing, the implication and explanation coming in a photo because he can’t articulate it in a text message. It fills him with so much fondness that his chest constricts violently and he can feels the start of a tear in the corner of his eye. How are you supposed to respond to something like that?
[great, now what am I supposed to wear?]
[lol idk go naked]
[south korea isn’t ready for that]
[haha! you can practice when i come back, ok?]
[you wish]
[i do actually]
[shut up Jiwon]
[lol, i gotta go. Jin’s glaring at me]
[Good Luck with your meeting]
[Thanks baby. Love you.  xj]
[You too. xxh]
[have a good day]
[go to your meeting, you loser]
[say something nice at least]
[ok, how’s this: I’ll be thinking of you and I hope something good happens to you today.]
[yeah, not bad, whatever. talk to you later]
[JIWON!]
[lol jk jk. I miss you. Have a good day baby, do something crazy]
He can’t stop smiling after that. What would Murakami write about him right now? Laying naked in bed with the sun streaming through his curtains, smiling like an idiot at his ceiling. Is this what contentment feels like?
He reads Jiwon’s last message again and scrolls through all the photos that Jiwon has sent him from Japan. He scrolls so far back that he lands on a photo of his little sister, holding her ballet trophy proudly. He hasn’t seen her in a long time, too long really, and no matter what he does, there’s no ignoring the guilt.
His self esteem is managable at best and diabolical at it’s worst. He doesn’t want to be one of those guys who constantly waxes lyrical about love but in all honesty, it really does heal a lot of things, some that he didn’t even know were broken in the first place. Jiwon’s love is no ordinary love though, it must be the extra-strength-triple-fortified-eternally-lasting kind because it gives him courage at times when he has none.
His sister is still smiling at him through his phone screen and before he really knows what he’s doing, his fingers have already hit the dial button.
“Hanbin?”
“Hi mum.”
Yeah, love might give you courage but it takes a crazy kind of courage to get involved with it in the first place.
****
He fingers the soft gray fabric of Hanbin’s hoody and tries not to feel completely underdressed in the room full of slick designer rappers. Clothes don’t mean shit. He knows that but there’s no escaping Jin’s sigh when he climbs into the car and the fact that he looks like the odd one out.
Doc McKinney was surrounded by a crowd 3 people deep. The meeting is over in an anti-climatic ten minutes. Everyone wanted to meet the famous american producer and on the hierarchy of importance, he was right at the bottom. He might be known in Seoul’s underground rap scene but here, he was just another fish in an even bigger ocean. He’s not entirely sure why Beatbox wanted him to go because Doc Mckinney doesn’t even know who he is but at least they could speak English and ended up talking about Bob Marley. That was something.
He’s standing at one of the big windows afterwards, trying to take a photo of the Tokyo skyline to send home, thinking of how much he wants to take Hanbin here one day.
“Korean?”
He turns to his left to see a tall thin man with long black hair, a straggly beard and thick glasses. He doesn’t remember meeting him but there’s something in that voice that he recognises. The stranger doesn’t even look at him, preferring just to stare out the window.
“Yes?” He replies, both curious and cautious.
“Get dressed in the dark this morning, kid?”
He looks down at his outfit and yeah, okay, he really did get dressed in the dark this morning. It doesn’t stop him from feeling defensive about Hanbin’s grey hoodie and their caramel coloured coat. Who does this guy think he is?
“Excuse me? I don’t-”
There’s a quite snort next to him. “Relax. You look fine. Stood out like a sore thumb though didn’t you? In that sea of Supreme? Couldn’t tell one guy from the other.”  
“Oh, I guess?”
“What’s with all the pink? Your girlfriend dress you? ”
He smiles at his reflection in the glass window. “Yeah, something like that.”
“What company you with?”
“Beatbox.”
“Ahh, Jin. He’s been looking for his Neo all these years. I’m surprised he didn’t dress you up himself.” The guy chuckles. “Must have a lot of faith in you to bring you all the way here for a pointless trip.”
He’s just about protest when the guy turns to face him with a pensive look on his face. “They treating you alright? You gotta watch out for these big companies.”
Whatever he was about to say gets swallowed back down, his mouth opening and closing comically to the point where he gets laughed at again. He doesn’t have much of a temper but there are time where it grates on his nerves a little too much. But even then, he wasn’t raised by wolves, his mother did teach him some manners and he doesn’t want to let Hanbin down by burning any bridges.
“Yeah, things have been good so far.” He kicks himself, unsure what the protocol is when a stranger asks him about Beatbox. This was one thing that Jin hadn’t finish coaching him on. “I haven’t released anything yet though.”
There’s another laugh followed by the shake of a head. “Yeah, he’s really putting all his money and reputation on you, huh? Smart guy though. Indie company mentality with corporate company ambitions and money. Just don’t let them blindside you guys.”
He’s seen those eyes before, the watery thoughtfulness that always looks like it’s watching and reading you the entire time. And that voice…..he knows that voice. Why can’t he place it?
“Sorry, have we met?”
The guy shrugs. “Doubt it, kid. What’s your name?”
“Jiwon.”
“That your rap name?”
“No…no, it’s Bobby.”
“Of course it is.” The guy smiles but doesn’t bother to introduce himself. “How are you liking Japan?”
This entire conversation was like a car driving in and out of traffic; constantly changing lanes, veering sharp lefts and abrupt rights. He has no idea where it’s going or what the agenda is. It’s almost like talking to Hanbin.
And just like that, his focus shifts back to South Korea, where it’s sunny, and to that pokey little apartment, where there’s a sleepy neurotic writer still tangled in their sheets. His fingers come up to absentmindedly smooth over the soft fabric of his coat.
“It’s really nice. Kind of a waste to be here for business in some ways.” He laughs. “Wish the person who dressed me was here.”
“Ahhh.” The Guy says quietly, like he understands the context. Maybe he does. “Well. Work hard. Write often. Learn everything, especially when to shut up. Don’t let anybody change the part of you that makes you you. That’s always the first thing they’ll try to do. But I got a good feeling about you, kid. Put in the work and maybe next time you’re here, you can bring that girl of yours.”
He wants to correct the assumption but there’s someone calling him.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, kid. I’ll see you around.”
There’s a brief pat on his back before the Guy disappears through the sea of Supreme again.
Jin eventually catches up with him. “Who were you talking to?”
“I have no idea.” He says earnestly. He really had no idea and maybe he just hallucinated some kind of rap yoda. God, he needs either caffeine or sleep.
No such luck. Jin has him sitting through another meeting with a smaller company this time and as tired as he is, he hears the words of Rap Yoda and Hanbin echoing in his ears. He doesn’t really want to be there but he’s going to act like he does. Hanbin would probably find out if he’s slacking off and kick his ass when he gets back home.
So he turns on the charm, laying it so thick that no-one will ever forget that they met him. Jin and the team seem happy, so he guesses he’s doing something right. They eat at some barbecue joint that serves ice cold Asahi. He wants to avoid more alcohol but chicken without beer is like Jiwon without Hanbin and that just goes against the laws of the Universe.
Everywhere they walk is just another place he wants to show Hanbin one day. The tiny hedgehog cafe (with real live hedgehogs!). The waffle shop that makes dog shaped desserts. The toy store with a life sized Rilakuma at the entrance. The endless bookstores with original Murakami and scrolls of beautiful traditional brush calligraphy on the walls. The parks lined with cherry blossom trees and ivy.
He takes photos of everything and sends them all to Hanbin’s phone.
****
He feels like a stranger knocking on the dark red door and he feels like it was a lifetime ago that he used to live here. They were a happy family once, so he knows it’s possible but he doesn’t know if they will ever be like that again. Some wounds are just too deep.
But there was always his sister. She has nothing to do with all their mess and deserves some kind of normalcy. And it’s really that thought that drove him here today. Maybe his relationship with his parents will never go back to normal but at least he still has his sister.
“HANBIN!!” He hears her before he sees her and for all her ballerina’s grace, she has the tendency to crash into him at 100kph and hang off his neck like she was still 5 years old. He’s glad that hasn’t changed.
“Hey Peanut.” He smiles, half breathless by the tiny monster truck that just crashed into him. “Missed me?”
Hanbyul lets go and grimaces, her words directly contradicting her actions. “No.”
“Yeah sure.” He chuckles and flicks one of her ponytails. “Did mum tell you why I’m here?”
“She just said you were visiting.” Hanbyul says, eyes inquisitive but with a shade of melancholy that shouldn’t be natural at her age. “Are you visiting? Are they still mad at you?”
He sighs inwardly, telling himself to keep it together. When he spoke to his mother this morning, the request was simple: he just wanted to take his sister out for the day. But like everything that seems to happen in their family, a simple request can turn into a drama production.
“Don’t worry about that. I’m gonna go talk to them for a bit. I’m come get you after okay?”
She’s 9 years old now but when he leaves her standing in their hallway, she still looks like the toddler that he remembers following him around everywhere.
He doesn’t have to search very far for his parents, they’re both in the kitchen table when he walks in, his mum pouring tea (like he was some kind of guest) and his dad sitting at the table with a grave look on his face (like someone died).
“Hi. Mum…..dad….” He greets them awkwardly.
“Hanbin, come in. Sit sit.” At least his mum was trying to be kind. He feels a surge of love for her then and doesn’t know why he ever doubted her support. “Are you hungry? I know you want to go out for lunch but well, you aunt brought over some cake so here, have some cake.”
He nods absentmindedly, flashing her a small smile even though he really wasn’t in the mood for cake. He can see the strain on her face but she’s trying and so should he. “Thanks mum.”
The clock ticks too loudly as they just sit and stare at the grains of wood on the dinner table. His dad clears his throat eventually and they all hold their breath.
“So, how are you?”
Stay calm, Hanbin. You can do this.
“I’m fine, dad. How have you been?”
“Oh you know, the blood pressure is no good. Dr. Park has got me on too many medications. Something about my risk of a heart attack and decreasing my salt intake. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Part of him expected this, the overly mundane conversation, and part of him is relieved that they weren’t shouting at each other from the moment he set foot in the house.
“He’s a good doctor.” He says, trying to keep the facade going. “He doesn’t really think you’re going to have a heart attack does he?”
His dad snorts derisively. “ He’s just trying to scare me. He wants me to cut out soy sauce but this is Korea, what a ridiculous request.”
“Are you taking the medication at least?”
“Oh god, not you too.” His dad sighs loudly. “First your mother and now you? For the record, yes I am taking my medications.”
There’s a long silent pause and he knows what’s on all their minds but doesn’t know how how to start talking about it.
“How’s work?”
“We’re on holidays at the moment but it’s been great.”
“You know, there’ll always be a job at my company if you want it. It’ll be a pay rise, if you ever want to move out of that shoebox you live in.”
He frowns again, fingernails digging into his palms under the table. There will never be a time where his dad isn’t disappointed in him.
Keep it together, Hanbin. Think of Hanbyul. This isn’t about you.
“I’m fine where I am. I’m getting help with the rent now anyway.”
His words, and all its implications, hang in the air between them. They all want to talk about Jiwon so they might as well just get it over with.
“Is that still…..” His dad trails off, pausing for a beat before finishing his sentence. “How is that going?”
He hears it, the strain in his dad’s voice, the way he almost had to force the words out in some kind of neutral civil tone. That must be his mother’s influence. He knows they both really want to ask, “Is it still going?”
“It’s going great.” He says, looking at the dense chocolate cake his mum pushes towards him and avoiding any other eye contact. “He’s in Japan right now.”
“Japan? What for?”
Does he want to do this now? Start telling Jiwon’s life story to a man who might never accept them? But if not now, then when?
“For work. He’s um….he got a record deal. He’s a musician. He’s over there for some business meetings.” They can all hear the shakiness in his voice but nobody mentions it, so there was at least that.
“Oh.” His dad says. “Your mother said he worked in that garage downtown. Since when was he a musician?”
He looks up in surprise, first to his mum, who gives him an encouraging smile, then slowly to his dad, who is wearing a genuinely shocked expression.
“He’s always been one. He just got signed recently.”
There’s another long heavy pause and then all pretend to eat the cake that nobody has an appetite for.
“Did you read the contract?” His dad asks suddenly, eyes now serious and focused, like he must be in all his business meetings. “Before he signed it, did you read it?”
He almost feels like smirking, if his dad wanted to talk business, then they will talk business. It’s the one topic where they have some common ground. “Of course I did.”
“What company did he sign with?”
“Beatbox. It’s a new subsidiary of Globalkore.”
“Which law firm is representing them?”
“Lee & Ko.”
His dad hums in what he knows is approval. It gives him emotional whiplash.
“Did you have to re-negotiate any terms?”
“Only a few. We got them all. It wasn’t really that hard.”
He eats more of the cake, finally able to swallow some of it down. He can see his dad’s mouth opening with hesitation before closing again with resignation. Being good at business and law is one thing but wanting to make a career out of it is an entirely different thing. They’ve had The Family Business conversation so many times over the years. It always begins with his dad disappointed by his refusal to put that business-law degree into effect. It always ends with him storming out of the house, shouting about how art isn’t a worthless pursuit.
They’re all shocked when the conversation veers off somewhere else altogether.
“Is he pulling his weight? Helping you out? You’re not doing everything are you?”
He looks across at his dad, surprised that they were back to talking about Jiwon. It’s been some time since he’s really stopped and looked at his parents and their lives. His dad works hard at a job that carries more high stakes and stress than one person should be mentally permitted to. He’s not perfect, he’s hurt everyone in the family with his blunt words and careless actions but right now, there’s just a weary father with too many deeps lines on his face, worried about blood pressure tablets and his son’s future.
Something melts inside him. It’s not forgiveness, not even close, but it’s a small step in the right direction.
“Yeah dad, he’s helping out.”
There’s a crash outside the kitchen that makes them all jump. Hanbyul’s ponytails swing into view, along with the pot plant she tripped over. Their mum is up in a flash, sighing and gently scolding as she dusts the soil off Hanbyul’s jeans and leads her off into the bathroom to wash her hands.
“That’s your cue to go.” His dad says, getting up to help with the cleaning. “Have her back before dinner.”
He’s nodding and is just about to bend down to help when his dad waves him away. “No, I’ll take care of this. Go entertain her, she’s been bored of us for weeks now.”
“Okay. Um, thanks dad.” He says, feeling every bit like a child again.
“We haven’t told her anything about your….situation. If you insist on going through with all that, just think about what you say and who might end up hearing about it, not just for your sake but for everyone else’s too.”
Part of him wants to automatically snap back. Of course he knows all this. Of course he’ll be cautious. But he keeps his mouth shut and just nods again. It’s longest conversation they’ve probably had in 6 months that didn’t end in a some kind of argument or shouting match. It’s unsettling and foreign and he’s almost forgotten how to deal with it but sometimes you have to take a few hits in order to win the war.
“Come on Hanbin! I want to go to the pet store!” Hanbyul is tugging at his sleeve impatiently and he only has a brief moment with this mum on the way out.
“Thank you.” He whispers.
“For what?” She smiles mysteriously.
He pulls out of the driveway feeling off-balanced in a good way (if there was such a thing). There are more questions than answers and he still doesn’t know where his dad stands on the topic of Jiwon but at least they were all talking and his sister seems to be doing okay. So for now, that’s enough.
****
“What were you talking about with mum and dad?” Hanbyul asks over lunch. “Why did you look so serious?”
“They’re just worried about my life. That’s what parents do.” He says with a smile. She is even more inquisitive than he ever was at this age. “They’ll worry about you too, when you decide to grow up.”
She scowls at him with the fury only a 9 year old girl can generate. “I’m not a baby!”
He reaches over to pull her hair away from her face so it doesn’t get stuck in her food. “Nah, you’re always gonna be a baby peanut. Better get used to it.”
Hanbyul glowers a few more times before suddenly deciding that it just wasn’t worth the energy to get upset. Kids these days.
“So they’re not mad anymore?”
“I think mum’s okay. Dad’s just tired, you know. I don’t think they’re as mad as they were before, there’s just some adult things we need to figure out right now.” He kicks himself immediately as soon as he gets the words out because his sister pounces on them without missing a beat.
“Like what? What things?”
He sighs. He is never going to come out of this conversation alive. His sister had concentrated Kim genes- all the tenacious charm of their mum mixed with all the cunning intelligence of their dad. It’s a potent combination in a tiny 9 yo human.
“Like my job and my apartment. Stuff like that. It’s boring. You don’t want to hear about it.”
She wipes her mouth daintily and stares lasers at him. “Do you have a girlfriend that’s a boy?”
He’s so taken aback that he can only laugh. “What?! Where did you hear that?”
“My friend Mina said that her brother has a girlfriend that’s a boy because some people have girlfriends who are girls and some people have girlfriends who are boys. So do you have a girlfriend that’s a boy?”
Kids these days.
“That is the weirdest question.” He says, shaking his head. “You know that having a girlfriend whose a boy is just like having a boyfriend right? It’s the same thing. Some people like boys and some people like girls and some people like both.”
He kicks himself again. His parents will kill him for introducing their innocent daughter to the idea of bisexuality. He might as well start digging his own grave now.
“I know that Hanbin!” Hanbyul says, rolling her eyes condescendingly. She’s just a baby, when did she learn to roll her eyes? And where the hell did she learn about bisexual dating?!
“How do you know? Who told you that?”
“Mina’s brother picks her up from ballet and sometimes there’s a boy and sometimes there’s a girl with him. And Miss Lee said that some of the famous ballet dancers are like that and it doesn’t make them bad or weird. Oh! Do you know Tiler, Hanbin? She’s my favourite dancer! Mum let me watch her videos on Youtube, she’s the best.”
He just shakes his head. This whole time, he was agonising over how to explain to his sister that he was gay and in 10 minutes, she’s already explained the concept back to him.
“No, I haven’t heard of her. You need to show me one day.” He reaches across to tuck more wayward strands of hair away from her face. “Does it bother you that some of your favourite dancers like boys or girls?”
Hanbyul shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s weird sometimes.”
He knew it wasn’t going to be all smooth sailing. Maybe his sister understands that more than one type of couple exists but beyond that is harder to come to terms with.
“Why’s it weird?”
“Because it’s weird!” She says, exasperated by her 9 yo brain’s inability to articulate its own thoughts.
“What if it was me? Would you think it’s weird?”
She looks at him with wide eyes for a moment but slowly shakes her head. “I don’t think you’re weird.”
“Well, good. You shouldn’t hate people or tease them because of who they like, okay? You wouldn’t want someone hating you for liking ballet and Tiler right?”
She’s nodding her head but too fixated on her food and chopsticks so he doesn’t really know how much sinks in but this is enough for one day. There’s no point ruining their day together with social politics, there’ll be plenty of time for that when she’s older.
****
Jin finally releases him at 5:30pm.
He goes straight to the hotel room and falls face first onto the bed. There’s the temptation to just crawl under the sheet and sleep but he knows it’ll mean waking up in the middle of the night because he’s missed dinner.
Hanbin hasn’t replied to any of his photo messages, which makes him irrationally worried even though he knows there’s probably a good reason for it.
To distract himself, he decides to check out the rooftop pool in the hotel. It’s dinner time for most guest and he’s relieved to find the 25 metre pool empty.  It’s an indoor pool but encased by glass windows so you can see everything outside, including the evening sky.
After attempts at some hard and fast laps, he’s too exhausted to do much more than just float on his back and stare out the glass ceiling. The sky was violet, it reminds him of the colour of the sky on his birthday. It wasn’t the first birthday he’s had with a boyfriend but it was the first birthday where he was given a gift that meant something.
He still can’t get over the mixtapes. Nobody has ever made him anything like that before. Teenage confession letters were one thing but four mixtapes with handwritten tracklists were another thing altogether. 1 hour per tape equals four hours of music and probably days or weeks of thoughts and consideration on Hanbin’s part. That’s his favourite present. It wasn’t so much about the tapes themselves or the songs on them, it was really the knowledge that Hanbin sat down and put so much effort into something just for his birthday. It hits him in the gut when he thinks about it and lyrics start forming in his head as he floats in the warm water.
Locked with your thoughts I’m swimming With u right here I’m swimming With no-one else I’m swimming Wanna be with u
He eats dinner with the windows wide open so he can stare at the glittering night lights of Tokyo and listen to the ‘Before Sunset’ tape at the same time. The sky was dark indigo now and even though Hanbin was still not replying, he sends a photo of the night skyline anyway.
He recognises the song through his headphones, it’s something he remembers hearing somewhere before. Maybe when he was younger, when his family was still in America and they had long hot summers down the West Coast with the radio playing in the car. He lets the nostalgia wash over him, wondering how the hell Hanbin managed to find a song that incapsulated his childhood without even being there.
He’s playing with the little cardboard insert in the cassette case when he sees something written on the inside of the spine.
“I’m not good with words, so I’m using this to tell you instead.”
He wants to laugh because he’s read Hanbin’s articles and knows a talent when he sees one but on the other hand, Hanbin has always had trouble saying what he means and meaning what he says. Some people are better writing words and some are better verbalising them. Hanbin is the former and he himself is definitely the latter.
And right on cue, as if Hanbin heard his thoughts, there’s a message that buzzes on his phone.
[Hey sorry, had a big day. How did it go over there?!]
[Gonna look at all the photos in bed later]
[its was ok, we got along but it was only a quick 10 min thing. Hallucinated a Rap Yoda tho]
[what?]
[was takng a photo to show u and this dude just starts talkn to me like yoda in the sw movies]
[who was he?]
[IDK! super weird]
[That is weird. How’s the headache, feeling better?]
[yeah its fine. how was ur day? do anythng crazy?]
[Actually….yes]
[omg what]
[Talked to my dad]
He stares at the words for a full 5 seconds before attempting to think of a reply. With his chest thumping, he dials Hanbin’s number instead.
“Hey.”
“Don’t ‘hey’ me! What happened?!” He nearly shouts down the line.
“Tell me about your day first?”
“Fuck no. Yours is more important!”
“Jiwon….” Hanbin was using his Responsible Adult Voice.
“Hanbin….” He echoes in his own serious voice.
There’s a sigh from the other end. “Okay, fine. Well, I was in a good mood this morning so I rang mum to ask her if I could take Hanbyul out for lunch and she said I had to come over and talk to dad about it because they probably think I’m going to introduce her to being gay or something. Anyway,  I went over and we talked and nobody punched anyone in the face. So it was a pretty good day.”
There’s a pause then but Hanbin stays silent.
“And then what?” He asks impatiently. “Did he say anything about us? Or me?”
“He offered me a job again but mostly he wanted to know about your contract with Beatbox. He was worried about us not reading fine print and signing a dodgy deal. It’s a business school thing.” Hanbin says, almost distractedly.
“Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“You told him about my contract?”
There’s a quiet intake of air before Hanbin speaks again. “Shit. Did you not want me to? I’m sorry Jiwon! I just thought that-”
“No, it’s fine! I don’t care that you told him. It’s just, why would he be interested in that? Last time you all talked, there was shouting and they stormed out.”
“Yeah I know.” Hanbin says wearily. “I think mum got to him. Wore him down as usual. I didn’t ask her to do that but I think she did it anyway.”
“So, are they just okay with us now?”
His heart jumps with hope but he’s been in these situations before, with equally homophobic parents, and he knows that false hope is the cruelest of them all.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t know what my dad thinks. They’re both trying and that’s all I can honestly say right now.” Hanbin finishes earnestly. “Hanbyul seems okay though, thank God. At least they haven’t messed her up too badly yet.”
“Oh yeah? That’s good. I want to meet her one day.”
“I know. I want you to meet her too but….”
“…just not right now. It’s fine Hanbin. Don’t stress about it, it’ll happen when it happens.”
Hanbin hums a vague response and there’s another pause.
“So tell me about your day?”
He sits in the chair facing the big window and watches all the lights flicker over the city in the distance. Hanbin doesn’t even interrupt him, he’s known for awhile that Hanbin finds his voice soothing and he wonders if he was ever read to as a child.
He’s half way through describing the hedgehog cafe when his body gives up being in an upright position.
“Sorry babe, I need to get into bed, gonna crash soon.”
“It’s okay, me too. My chest is killing me. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“I’m coming back tomorrow.” He says with a tired laugh. “Why’s your chest killing you?”
“It’s nothing.” Hanbin says quickly. “I’ll let you go. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow? Your flight lands at 4pm right?”
“Yeah, I’ll call you.”
“Okay. You want me to hang up first?”
“Yeah.” He laughs quietly. “Night baby, love you.”
“I…..me too.” Hanbin says, only slightly tripping over the words. “See you tomorrow.”
His eyes are already half closed by the time he gets in bed but he doesn’t sleep straight away, instead he scribbles all the bits of lyrics that seem to flood his head all the sudden. He dreams of swimming pools, dimple smiles, violet skies and mixtapes. He can’t think of a title, that’ll just have to wait till morning.  
****
He hangs up first because Jiwon still can’t do that for some reason. His chest is aching but there’s something about the pain mixed with everything good that happened today that makes him itch to write it all down. His laptop glows into life but the words don’t look right on the sterile whiteness of the computer screen. Instead, he opens up the playlist he made for Jiwon and reaches for the notebook he jammed under the mattress all those months ago. 
It’s cold and smooth underneath his finger tips, the paper old and slightly yellowing with age. His favourite black pen still glides over it just like it used to. This feels better. It feels familiar. 
So he writes. 
Cloudy With A Chance: Chapter 0....
****
Soundtrack: Tiny Dancer -Elton John | Your Song -Lady Gaga (cover)
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pho---to---graph · 3 years
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Henry Fox Talbot – The Haystack
Posted on July 7, 2015 by Steve Middlehurst In April 1844 William Henry Fox Talbot set up a camera loaded with light sensitive paper and photographed (i) a haystack on his country estate at Lacock Abbey in Wiltshire. The haystack had presumably been constructed in the summer of 1843 but as we have no clue to its original size we cannot tell if it has been used to feed livestock all winter or only recently opened. A ladder leans against the stack, blocks are obviously being cut starting from the top down and we can see that the hay knife has been left high in the stack to the left of the ladder (ii). We can see how the stack has been designed with an undercut to minimise rising damp and painstakingly thatched to protect the valuable crop from the rain. Another thatched roof can be seen behind the stack but this looks more likely to be a barn. I partly chose this image because I lived in rural Italy for a number of years and stacks not dissimilar to this still exist in the mountains of Abruzzo, I found an ancient hay knife in the outbuildings of the house we lived in. This, of course provides a punctum (1) in this photograph that is quite personal to me.
Overall the composition has a strong geometry with the bright ladder and its dark shadow  providing contrast to the mid-tones of the hay. The Haystack is a study of light, tone and texture with the shadows of the ladder, the eaves of the thatch and the undercut all playing important roles in defining the significant and detailed forms in the scene. The dark leaves overhead provide a contrasting backdrop to the stack.
Such a stack would have been common place in rural England in the 1840s, unremarkable, probably identical to many other stacks in the Lacock area if not on the estate itself. This leads me to wonder why Fox Talbot photographed this particular stack, what did he want to communicate to his audience and who did he perceive that audience to be? Because this is a well know photograph, one of a series that Fox Talbot published in The Pencil of Nature in 1844 (2) (iii), it has been analysed, considered, critiqued and interpreted for over 175 years.
In fact it was whilst quite casually turning the pages of Ian Jeffrey’s How to Read a Photograph (3) that I paused to read his interpretation of The Haystack and began to think about the variety of ways in which we can read this calotype and how those readings have probably changed over time. It is interesting to consider such an old image in this way because, whilst we feel compelled to label it, there were no strongly established photographic genres in 1844 and no history of this type of image to speak of so Fox-Talbot only saw his work in the context of his drawing, his scientific research (iv) and as a commercial opportunity. He did refer to his calotypes as Art saying in his introduction to The Pencil of Nature that the book is a “first attempt to exhibit an Art of so great a singularity”  and refers to the process as “Photogenic Drawing” (v) but I cannot shake off the feeling that the practical process or the commercial potential was more interesting to him than the end result.
Fox Talbot, like many educated men of his time, maintained regular correspondence with contacts all over Europe and from the letters held in the De Montford University archive (5) it is possible to find many references to his photographic work but the ones I found (vii) were predominantly practical, or scientific in nature; and perhaps not surprisingly he was very interested in arguing the advantages of his Calotype process over the Daguerreotype. The discussions he was engaged in rarely touched upon the aesthetics of his or other photographer’s work and one letter from Fox Talbot to William Jerdan, the Editor of the Literary Gazette (vi), is particularly revealing; he wrote “The Complexity of the Art requires a division of labour; one person should invent new processes while another puts in execution those already ascertained, but hitherto I have been the chief operator myself in the different branches of the invention.”
We do know that Pencil of Nature is as much a catalogue as a photo book. Fox talbot selected subjects that showed the potential uses of photography; a photograph of his china collection is accompanied by a text explaining how this would help recover them if they were stolen, the leaf of a plant is contact printed as a botanical specimen, and the haystack is included to show how well photography could record “a multitude of minute details which add to the truth and reality of the representation, but which no artist would take the trouble to copy faithfully from nature.” He also places some photographs into the context of schools of painting, his famous Open Door is referenced to the “Dutch school of art”. All of which supports Gerry Badger’s description of the book as “an advertisement, a calling card, an experiment, a history, an aesthetic achievement and a manifesto” (6).
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Ian Jeffrey looking at The Haystack with a post modern eye suggests that the ladder has been placed here to provide human scale, “it serves as an attribute, making practical sense of the haystack”. He goes on to say that the sparse composition leaves the audience focusing on the items that are there so the ladder becomes suggestive of Jacob’s ladder which reached from earth to heaven. All valid points from a highly respected critic; I don’t see the ladder as being “placed” by the photographer, it is logical to me that it has been left here from the last time they cut into the hay which also explains why the hay knife has been left so high on the stack. I didn’t find the ladder suggestive of anything other than a practical way of accessing the hay.
When Fox Talbot photographed The Haystack, his intent appears to have been to show how his new process could capture the infinite detail in a large and recognisable object. He created a pleasing composition and may or may not have had one of his farm labourers bring a ladder and hay knife into the scene to add human scale or human interest. His message was primarily concerned with the functionality of the Calotype; his audience was probably a mixture of the scientific establishment, the British artists he hoped would “assist the enterprise” and the middle-class buyers who, not being able to afford a Constable, might buy a Fox Talbot instead.
Jeffrey sees the photograph as an example of the conceptual game “in which one step forward delivers things and words and one step back discloses the scene itself in all its natural complexity” (3). One the one hand I see it as a romantic view of rural life that has personal links to my life and on the other hand as a photograph taken by someone more interested in process and technology than the picture, rather like those internet conversations about pixels that appear to reduce photography to a technological arms-race. But, my interpretation is no more right than Jeffrey’s nor has this eminent art historian and critic has in any way missed the point, far from it.
The haystack is a prefect example of the practical application of Roland Barthes concept of “The Death of the Author” (7) and the idea of “Creative Attention” as proposed by Ainslie Ellis and Jonathan Bayer (8). (These ideas have been discussed in previous essays – see note viii below)
The post modernist view which is strongly based on Barthes’ essay The Death of the Author argues that whilst “the sway of the author remains powerful” the viewer is the primary controller of Art’s meaning. Barthes argues that reducing the influence of the author “utterly transforms” a piece of art and The Haystack is a perfect example of this process. Its power as a photograph is built upon a complex combination of its original context including the history of Fox Talbot and his competition with Daguerre, the mysteries and ambiguities that exist inside the frame and its aesthetic appeal but this is only relevant as a springboard for the ideas the viewer creates by engaging in a dialogue with the image. Harking back to Bayer’s idea, The Haystack releases its meanings slowly and has been doing so for over 175 years.
(I have also looked at this photograph in the context of semiotics here.)
Notes on Text
(i) Fox talbot patented the calotype in 1843. Light sensitive paper was exposed in a camera, developed and fixed to create a negative. A print was made by exposing another sheet of light sensitive paper placed in contact with the negative. (1) I was intrigued to find a letter in the de Montford archive where he uses the term “photograph” as a generic term “Several photographic processes being now known, which are materially different from each other, I consider it to be absolutely necessary to distinguish them by different names, in the same way that we distinguish different styles of painting or engraving. Photographs executed on a silver plate have received, and will no doubt retain, the name of Daguerréotype. The new kind of photographs, which are the subject of this letter, I propose to distinguish by the name of Calotype; a term which, I hope, when the become known, will not be found to have been misapplied.” (
(ii) Since the advent of silage hay is is used far less for animal feeding and when it is used it is bailed and stacked as opposed to just stacked. The art of making a haystack has nearly disappeared in England but in many parts of Southern and Eastern Europe both the stack and the the unique triangular knives that are used to carve out the hay are still common.
(iii) Fox Talbot’s great contribution to the process of photography was the concept of printing multiple copies of the same picture from a single negative. The Pencil of Nature was the first ever photo book and ran to to six separate volumes that in total contained twenty four calotypes.
(iv) By all accounts Fox-Talbot was a brilliant man, as a gentleman scientist he explored many fields and was awarded a honorary Doctors of Laws degree by Edinburgh University not for his contribution to the arts or even his political career (he served in Palmerston’s government when the MP for Chippenham) but for his many contributions to science. In mathematics there is the “Talbot’s Curve”, in physics “Talbot’s Law” and the “Talbot” is a unit of luminous energy; there are two species names after him in the filed of botany and for good measure there is a Talbot crater on the moon. (4)
(v) He also points out that “you just can’t get the staff” saying that the chief difficulty he faces is the “paucity” of “skilful manual assistance”.
(vi) The full text reads: “I intend sending you a Copy of my new work the Pencil of Nature which I expect will be published tomorrow. I have met with difficulties innumerable in this first attempt at Photographic publication, & therefore I hope all imperfections will be candidly allowed for, and excused – I have every reason to hope the work will improve greatly as it proceeds, & that British Talent will come forward and assist the enterprise The Complexity of the Art requires a division of labour; one person should invent new processes while another puts in execution those already ascertained, but hitherto I have been the chief operator myself in the different branches of the invention.” (Document number 5013 in The Correspondence of William Henry Fox Talbot held by the De Montford University (5))
(vii) It is important to recognise that Larry J Schaaf has recorded approximately 10,000 letters to and from Fox Talbot so it would be quite wrong to give the impression that I have done anymore than skimmed the surface of this resource. I concentrated on reading the letters written between early 1843 and late 1844 which covered the period of The Haystack photograph and the publication of The Pencil of Nature.
(viii) The Death of the Author is discussed in two essays about post modernism here and here and the ideas of Ainslie Ellis and Jonathan Bayer are looked at here and here)
Sources
Books
(1) Barthes, Roland. (1980) Camera Lucida. London: Vintage Books
(3) Jeffrey, Ian ( 2008) How to Read a Photograph: Understanding, Interpreting and Enjoying the Great Photographers. London: Thames and Hudson.
(6) Badger, Gerry (2007) The Genius of Photography: How Photography has Changed our Lives. London: Quadrille.
(7) Barthes, Roland (1968) The Death of the Author. (Included within Image, music, Text, translated by Stephen Heath (1977)) London: Fontana Press
(8) Bayer, Jonathan (1977) Reading Photographs: Understanding the Aesthetics of Photography. The Photographers’ Gallery. New York: Pantheon
Internet
(2) Fox Talbot, William Henry (1844) The Pencil of Nature (accessed at PCCA 6.7.15) – http://www.photocriticism.com/members/archivetexts/photohistory/talbot/talbotpencila.html
(4) Schaaf, Larry J. The Correspondence of William Henry Fox Talbot (accessed at the de Montford University Fox Talbot archive 6.7.15) – http://foxtalbot.dmu.ac.uk/talbot/biography.html
(5) Schaaf, Larry J. The Correspondence of William Henry Fox Talbot (accessed at the de Montford University Fox Talbot archive 6.7.15) – http://foxtalbot.dmu.ac.uk
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sbknews · 3 years
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Drift Innovations Ghost X Action Cam Review
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Neil Jewell of Jewell Bike Training tests the Ghost X Action Cam with many thanks to Drift Innovations check driftinnovation.com for more info Cameras are everywhere you look these days. Speed Cameras, CCTV cameras, Dash Cams and also Action Cams. If you are looking to capture your epic events then is an action camera the tool for the job? Superbike News recently reviewed a motorcycle dash cam https://superbike-news.co.uk/viofo-mt1-dash-cam-review/ so, which is right for you, an Action Cam or a Dash Cam. The Ghost X from Drift is a compact action camera that has been designed to be mounted virtually anywhere. It records HD 1080P video at 30fps
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It’s Drift’s budget camera coming it at about £130, it offers a 5 hour battery life which can be extended to 8 hours with the bigger battery unit that is available for another £25. The included 32GB microSD card might need to be replaced for a bigger one as a 10 minute video (1080P) takes up 3.8GB of storage so by my very rough calculations you are probably good for 1.5 hours before you’d fill the card. Not a problem if you change one of the mirad of settings to give you loop recording. The loop interval can be set at different stages between 10 seconds and 10 minutes meaning it will record at 10 minute lengths until the card is full then return to the start and begin overwriting.
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In the box is everything you need to get started. I initially ignored the instruction manual as it looked too thick and technical.  I set about figuring the camera out myself. There are only 3 buttons on the top how hard could it be. One button is clearly an on/off as identified by the international on/off symbol. I pressed it, nothing. I pressed and held it for a couple of seconds and the little camera beeped into life. The back of the Ghost X has the tiniest of screens, smaller than a postage stamp, it had illuminated a pleasant green colour. This is where those with bad eyesight may begin to struggle. The little screen is giving out a lot of information in such a small space but, if you can see it, it does makes sense. Information such a recording mode; view angle; recording quality; the number of files saved; battery life and remaining card capacity are all shown on a screen size of 132mm² Staring at the screen I began pressing buttons, The top button, the one closest to you as you look at the screen, cycles the display through the various modes that the Ghost X has to offer, Video, Still camera, time lapse, burst image, settings menu, each one of these comes with its own colour. This will prove useful as you can instantly tell the mode the camera is in simply by looking at the glow and not squinting at the screen. Pressing the button again cycles back to the start. I pressed the middle button and discovered this cycles through the options on the screen being displayed, so in video mode you can alter the resolution to 1080, 960, 720 or WVGA which is probably the same resolution as a typical CCTV camera the advantage being you can up the frame rate to 60fps if you need to. I’m not a keen photographer so would probably need to look up what a lot of the settings do to fully understand the functionality of the Ghost X but then I would probably ignore them all and set it to record video at its best 1080P x 30fps resolution and never touch any settings again.
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Cycling through the screens and the modes, I only had to revert to the instruction book once and that was to understand what the K140 meant. I could change it to K90 and K115 but did not know what I was doing. Reluctantly, I flicked through the quick guide to realise that the K wasn’t a K but a symbol to illustrate the field of vision for the recordings. There are three options 90º, 115º and 140º. Once familiar with the button layout and how the options on the screens cycle through the menu options and back to the beginning, setting up the time and date and other options on the Ghost X was relatively simple. Just click slowly to get to where to need to be otherwise run the risk of cycling through all 28 menu options before getting back to where you need to be. (press and hold the button to go backwards through the menus) One of the 28 menus was Video tagging, this seems like a very clever idea if you don’t want to be recording all day and then have to wade back through hours of footage to find that one time where your mate did something cool. Video tagging is like having the Ghost X set in sleep mode, it’s always watching but not recording until you press the record button. Then, depending on the settings it can record the previous 2 minutes and the following 2 minutes. With Video Tagging, you’ll never miss that perfect action shot ever again. I eventually found my way back to the screen that told me the camera was in video mode but how to actually record video? I had one button left to press so pressed it, The Ghost X emitted a little beep, change to a big beep or no beep in settings, and the green glow turned red. It was recording. Starting and stopping is as simple as touching a button and to check it was all fine I hooked the camera up to the computer using the included USB lead and was impressed at how quickly the device was recognised. Much easier than removing the SD card from a DashCam type recorder. The Camera also charges up while attached to the computer and the little screen glows green when fully charged.
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Feeling good that I had worked out all the buttons and squinting at the tiny screen, I was feeling ready. I just one had more flick through the user guide to make sure I had found everything. It was at this point I made the life decision to read the manual first on every new thing I get.
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The guide was easy to use and only so thick because it contained all of the languages. It mentioned an APP, of course there is an APP, I downloaded that and looked up how to connect the APP to the camera. It was here that the instruction booklet came into its own. After connecting the APP to the phone via on-board Wi-Fi (easy) you get full access to all the system settings on your phone screen, not one that is 11mm wide x 12mm high. You can see a live image of the camera on the phone to help you set in the perfect location. You live and learn. The APP does a lot more than just system settings you can control the camera, live stream and join the drift community to share videos and experiences. After fiddling with the menus, it was time to fix the camera to my crash helmet. I already have a motorcycle dash cam on the bike, I didn’t want to go full Tellytubby and mount it on the top on my lid so opted for the side. The box contains 2 x 3M sticky pads, one is flat and the other curved. There was a lot of searching for the best location on the helmet to stick it. 3M pads are wondrously sticky so I wanted to find the right place first time. One of the great things about the Ghost X is that the lens can rotate so the camera can be mounted at any angle and the level corrected by simply rotating the lens so that the marker arrow is pointing straight up. Doing this exercise while looking at the image on your phone means you can get it right first time.
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As expected from an action camera there are many different mounting option available, the handlebar mount, designed for mountain bikes, might work on the handle bars or crash bars of some motorbikes. It is made from metal and looks & feels well build and robust. There is a pivot mount that will allow for the camera being mounted any which way; a roll bar mount for clamping onto scaffold sized tube. In fact, wherever you want to mount your camera there is probably a mount designed to do that job on the Driftinnovation.com website.
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I wanted a sleek fitting camera so went for the simplest solution of the curved sticky pad and then having the camera clip fitting directly into that. The camera clip is indexed onto the camera with a serrated grooved ring that controls the vertical angle the camera. The horizontal view depends on where you put the sticky pad. Changing the orientation of the camera and rotating the lens can be done without tools making camera position changes quick and easy, something that can’t be done with a dashcam.
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The camera clip locks into the sticky pad via a couple of spring loaded plastic prongs. Pinching these together enables the camera to slide out. When not on the helmet the sticky pad socket is hardly noticeable. One thing I would always want to be sure of, though, is that the camera clip is securely located in its socket. Make sure you listen for 2 audible clicks as it locks into place and then try to pull it back out. The last thing you want to see is footage of your camera bouncing down the road, if you ever find it again that is. There are no tethers available on the website to offer peace of mind. The buttons and the release prongs are easy to use with a gloved hand. Once you have mastered where the buttons are, you can turn the Ghost X on and off and start and stop the recording by touch. Or do as I did and start the camera recording and then lock it into place on the helmet. Remember that colour coded screen? There’s a small indicator light above the lens so you can check in a mirror what mode you’re in and if you are recording or not just by looking at it. Out and about on the bike, I didn’t notice the camera at all. It’s slim enough that it doesn’t rub on your shoulder when cornering and light enough that I couldn’t feel it. I made a few runs, the first one used the onboard mic and suffered horrific wind noise, maybe the sensitivity was too high. The second run I used the external mic. On returning back to base and reviewing the footage I was very disappointed that the mic had not picked up commentary. I did some checks with another mic and diagnosed a bad connector on the original mic. I’ve ordered a new one for £10 which fixed the issue.
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With the mic fixed and installed inside my helmet alongside my intercom mic, I connected the app to the camera via the on-board Wi-Fi and set off on another test run using the app to alter the settings along the way. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDiYkKhAGHk The Ghost X is not waterproof at least, I don’t think it is. It’s probably not fully waterproof. you see, I’m not really sure if it is or not but there is a waterproof case that is available as an accessory so, if you do want to go out in the rain then that is probably what you need. I tried in on the camera and was not happy with it. It’s good for 40m underwater though! The Ghost XL is waterproof, according to the website, and as it’s only another £20 I’d get that one. However there is one annoyance that comes from browsing the Driftinnovation.com website, and that’s the constant notifications that people are buying stuff. I really don’t need to know that Karen from Margate has just bought a Drift Class 10 MicroSD card 1 hour ago. I want to know the IPX rating of the Ghost X is please so I can decide to go out in the rain or not. Thank you very much.
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Overall, a great action camera, reasonably simple to set up and get going but will need some fine tuning of the settings to get the most out of it. I was happy that it came with a fully charged battery so I could start to mess with it immediately. I later searched the website and found out that the Ghost X is IPX4 rated. This means that you can use it in the rain, but not at high speed in heavy rain.
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It has other modes apart from the video; you can take 12MP still images; bursts of up to 15, 4MP images and set up time lapse. These are good to have but I wonder how many times they will be used. It’s certainly less hassle as a camera than a dash cam system, it’s compact and easy to access the files with the USB link, the quality of the video is great and it offers more to the video creator because when mounted on the helmet it follows the rider’s eye. With the bigger battery and a larger SD card up to 128GB the recording times are comparable to that of a hardwired dash cam system, but ask yourself how often do you ride for longer than 8 hours? Even if you do, grab a spare battery that can be charged up via USB and swap them in seconds. The downside is that it only records in one direction and if something happens behind you you’ll miss it.
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So which is right for me dash cam or action cam?  Well the perfect solution is to have both. The helmet mounted action cam will be used extensively to record live commentary over the top of video for training and feedback purposes and the front and rear dash cam system will be there to record any incidents and as also as back up when, not if, I forget to press the record button. Definitely a great little camera that looks sleek has a lot of functionality and will absolutely capture your best moments. You should get one. Review and photos by Neil Jewell of Jewell Bike Training You can check out Jewell Bike Training website and also follow on socials T: @jewelltraining FB: @jewellbiketraining Insta: @jewellbiketraining For more reviews check out our dedicated Reviews page For more Drift Innovation and our reviews check out our new dedicated page Drift Innovation News or head to the official Drift Innovation website www.driftinnovation.com
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Fracture 7/10
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Please note that this chapter references torture, drugging and character death. I sobbed some ugly tears writing this. It honestly hurt me
If you like Juyeon, go love on @yoosungshoodie, since Juyeon is her OC. The banner comes from @kiserusmoke!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue | AO3| Masterlist
Three months ago
Nari’s train was running late. She frowned at the timetable, muttering to herself that of course it was . She had chosen to take it as an experiment, one that she was careful to lie to her family and friends about. As far as they knew, she was doing it for the environment, when in reality she was considering selling her car. She doubted she would be unemployed for long, but if that proved to be the case, using the bullet train would be easier on her finances than a car.
She took a seat as she waited for the next train, taking her phone from her pocket. She had been checking the business and job listings of three different news sites and loaded up the first, frowning almost immediately when the page finally loaded.
KOREA’S MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR: an exclusive interview with the heir to C&R
She could not deny that he was handsome, but the carefully posed photograph inside of his office only added insult to injury. It was difficult not to imagine those stern features dismissing her from C&R.
Nari opened her emails instead, scrolling through the usual spam and lingering over a particularly curious entry.
Paradise awaits you, Nari Song
With a smirk, she opened the e-mail, expecting some kind of shopping coupon or horoscope spam. The actual e-mail was even more cryptic, though, and she read over it several times to try and gauge its meaning.
Don’t you want to escape from this filthy world?
This is an invitation to paradise.
Are you suffering from your past?
We will help the pain go away.
A world filled with pleasure…
A world filled with truth…
A world with no tears….
A world with no rejections…
Accept the angel’s invitation and enter the mysterious messenger.
There was a link at the bottom and Nari clicked it, curious of the messenger and quietly acknowledging the clever marketing at play. No matter how many pretty words an advertisement had, there was no match for a person’s natural curiosity. The appstore entry was equally as vague, listed as the angel’s invitation with no screenshots. Two people before her had offered reviews, claiming their lives were changed as a result of the app, offering no further details than that. Nari read over the page twice before clicking download. She had nothing better to do, after all.
Her train arrived as the app finished downloading and she watched her screen as she gripped the nearest railing. By the first stop, she had created a login and proceeded to the opening screen, which offered no answers either, looking exactly like a messenger platform, with icons for e-mail and some form of texting function. She tapped at each, taking in the empty contact pages and coming to the conclusion that it was some kind of chat room, even if no one appeared to be online.
She was about to put her phone away, deciding to take another look later on, when the screen went blank, displaying green letters of code that she did not recognise.
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Three months later
“What foods do you like?” Ray asked, arranging a fresh napkin on a saucer for his guest.
“Hmm?”
Judging from her expression, she was curious of his motives and he couldn’t find it in himself to blame her. The elixir of salvation was, after all, bitter on the senses and he did not want her to suffer any more than was necessary. The very thought of her face crumbling into one of agony left his heart skipping beats and palms clammy.
He had never been able to stand the thought of her coming to harm; had picked her out from hundreds based on that fact alone. She was different to the others: fragile and mysterious and completely out of place in the ordinary world.
“Ah! I’m sorry to ask such a strange question,” he said, “I just wondered if my cooking suited your tastes. If you’d rather something else, I can go and prepare it for you.”
“Oh,” she said, “please don’t worry! Everything here is…”
She gestured at the table, at all of the pastries and soups and other dishes that he had prepared for her.
“This is more than enough.”
“I’m so happy you think so! Although…I must say I am still curious. I’ve never had the chance to cook for someone like you before.”
“Someone like me?”
Ray blushed, realising too late that his words might come across as offensive.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to insult you!”
“You didn’t,” said Nari, her smile softening into one of sympathy. “Hmmm…let me think.”
She never got the chance to tell him, however, for C607 entered the garden and shattered the relative peace.
“Miss Song!” She called, waving and running towards the pavilion as fast as her heels would allow. “Miss Song, good morning!”
C607 had taken to her role as Assistant Park almost too well. Most of the clothes she used when in character came from her own personal collection, which she had abandoned upon her initiation into Mint Eye. The boldness of it made Ray’s toes curl; C607 discarded her beliefs as quickly as her clothes and her love for the paradise was transparently insincere.
“You weren’t in your room,” breathed C607, “I’ve been looking for you.”
She took a seat at the table and helped herself to a cup of coffee, quite deliberately not acknowledging him. He knew it was deliberate; that Miss Park had no reason to interact with him and going out of her way to do so might arouse suspicions, yet he would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him.
“Have you heard from Driver Kim?”
Nari was straight to business and Ray spotted the mean edge to C607’s smile even if she didn’t.
“I spoke to him just a few minutes ago, actually. He’s really sorry about the delay.”
“Is he…” Nari hesitated, thumbs tracing the edge of her cup, “alright?”
“Of course he is! He’s never been better.”
C607 took a sip of her coffee, leaning forward as if to whisper a secret.
“Actually,” she said, “he told me to tell you that we can leave as soon as you finish breakfast.”
Ray pretended he didn’t notice the joy in Nari’s eyes; the way she gulped down the rest of her coffee and dusted crumbs from her lap. He pretended he didn’t notice C607 reaching for her hand and guiding her away from the pavilion; away from him.
And he absolutely pretended he did not see C607 sneering over her shoulder at him.
Nari couldn’t believe her luck any more than she could hide her excitement to go home.
She all but threw her belongings together to the amusement of Juyeon, who lingered in the doorway and pointed out the things she missed.
“At this rate, that Ray guy will think you’re running away from him,” she laughed. “He is a little weird, don’t you think?”
Nari disapprovingly glanced up from her purse.
“He’s a little… enthusiastic,” she said, “but he means well.”
“Haven’t you seen those long lingering looks he gives you? I think he has a crush on you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“I’m not being ridiculous! It’s clear to anyone!”
Nari sighed, turning to chastise Juyeon, only to freeze at the sight of her swooping forward with a cloth in her hand. It smelled of something, something sweet and artificial, and she writhed against Juyeon’s grasp, digging her nails into the nearest arm and throwing back her head to try and loosen the one gripping her hair.
She realised it was chloroform only moments before her eyes fell shut and her body limp. She stared at her own outstretched hand, reaching and flailing, convinced she would remember Juyeon’s smile forever.
Jumin’s upcoming wedding had had something of a ripple effect on C&R. For the majority of employees it was gossip; hushed comments and carefully hidden tabloids. For the other select few, it was extra work. Almost overnight, the country had grown fascinated with Nari Song, whether it was the clothes she wore, her origins, the hidden truth of her relationship with Jumin; there was some part of her that intrigued everyone.
Suddenly the PR department had not only the prospect of a scandal to deal with, but weeks of careful research into a person that ordinarily would take months. They needed answers for any given official statement and ideas for how best to build her public image, whether it was denying the engagement came as a result of a pregnancy or scripting her replies to interview questions.
On the receiving end of arguably the highest amount of fallout was one Jaehee Kang, who found herself in an endless cycle of adjusting schedules, advising the PR department, passing on memos and more.
She had come to dread it whenever Jumin called her to his office because it never preceded anything good. This time around was no exception to the rule and she mentally reshuffled all of her recent e-mails and phone calls in an attempt to gauge exactly what Jumin was about to tell her. It seemed almost optimistic to wonder if he had a new pet project in mind.
“Mr Han?” She said, after knocking at his door. “You asked to see me?”
Jumin was in the process of flipping through the pages of one of the files from the mountain at his desk.
“Ah, Assistant Kang,” he said and waved her over, though never looked up from the file. “I have a task for you. It’s of the utmost priority.”
“Of course,” she said, pulling out the notebook she had been keeping her pocket. The constant adjustments and additions and reshuffles were difficult to keep up with at the best of times and she had taken to scribbling them down where possible.
“I need you to make a cancellation.”
“A cancellation,” she said, pen at the ready. “Of which particular appointment?”
“All of them.”
Jaehee glanced up from her notebook.
“P-pardon?”
Surely she had misheard, though that hope rapidly dissolved as he finally set aside the file in his hands.
“Sorry…that was vague,” he said. “I would like for you to cancel everything in regards to my engagement. My regular business appointments may remain the same.”
He said it casually, though Jaehee could only stare. He had finalised the design for the cufflinks he would wear on his wedding day only the night before and cancelling months of work in a single day never happened without a good reason. She wondered if she ought to ask about Nari, though decided against it. If the worst truly had happened, then reminding Jumin of the incident would only make matters worse.
Instead she accepted his task and pulled her phone from her pocket after sitting back down at her own desk.
Nari….is everything okay?
Ray had spent most of the evening and some of the morning preparing dishes for Nari’s breakfast. He had chosen each and every one based on things he had watched her eat through hacked security cameras in the penthouse she called home. He had cast his mind back to mornings in which she made coffee and wrapped her arms around Jumin’s shoulders, stepping up onto her tiptoes for kisses as he picked up his cup. He had remembered chefs entering the premises and anxiously waiting at the side of their dining table until dismissed. He also remembered Nari reaching into the back of the kitchen cupboard for sugary cereal: the same sugary cereal that Jumin occasionally reached for when he ate breakfast alone.
Ray wasn’t sure when exactly he had mentally inserted himself into every situation; cooking Nari pancakes instead of Jumin Han. He was not sure when he had decided she was miserable and only he could make her smile. They were selfish thoughts, out of line with the Saviour’s teachings, but his mind drifted nonetheless.
After Nari left with Juyeon, he returned to the kitchen, sinking his hands into the steaming dishwater and scrubbing each plate at a time. Technically speaking, he did not need to undertake such a task himself. Any given believer would happily have accepted any such order. He wanted to clear his thoughts, though, wanted to scrub the scrub the plates clean where he could not his mind. He wanted to wash away Nari’s happy expression at the prospect of returning home.
He had always condemned Juyeon and her selfishness; her desire for approval more so than paradise. The irony of it was clear to him now that he wanted Nari to smile and laugh for no one but him. He wanted her to smooth the creases out of his shirt, rearrange his tie, rush to greet him when he walked through the door. Even the sting of the hot water could not erase it.
The previous night he had reached for elixir, desperate to quieten his mind and focus. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the dark thoughts at the back of his mind, though. The whispers that repeated everything he did not want to hear.
The saviour will use her to convert Jumin Han.
He scrubbed harder.
She will choose him at the everlasting party
Harder, he scrubbed harder.
Even in paradise, she won’t love you.
He stopped, the water from the sink spilling onto the floor.
You’re wrong, he thought to himself. You’re wrong and I’m not listening to you anymore.
He squeezed his eyes open and shut, reaching to place the dish he had been washing alongside all of the others. There was no dish, though, only his hands; hands that he had so vigorously scrubbed that they were bleeding.
I won’t listen
His squeezed his hands into fists, the sting of his broken skin satisfying on the senses.
I won’t listen.
I won’t
Posing undercover as an acolyte came with an equal amount of perks and downsides. Nobody questioned Jihyun’s ignorance on the matter of their special guest and he found that some believers had curiosities of their own. It was, however, increasingly difficult to continue feigning ignorance. Even as someone outside of the castle for an extended period of time, he should have known which rooms were normally out of bounds. Twice they caught him at the stairwell and twice he lied about his presence there. Finally, on the third attempt, he changed his tactics and told a half truth.
“I want to see her,” he said, shrugging off the believer’s hand on his shoulder. “The Saviour thinks she is special…I want to see it for myself.”
It was a risky move, considering, but ultimately one that paid off. The three of them climbed the stairs to an empty floor, eerily silent to the point that everything they said and did left an echo.
“I heard her ceremony is tonight,” said one of his group, a woman, whose pretty face lay obscured by her hood. “I overheard Mister Ray telling Miss Jenny that the elixir would be ready once he added the final touches.”
Elixir
Just the word sent shivers up his spine. He knew the implications even if he did not the finer details. Jihyun stopped in his tracks, wanting nothing more than to steal Nari away from that terrible place. He opened his mouth to demand they take him to the saviour; to tell them that he was no believer. Before he could, though, footsteps rang out in the empty corridor and his heart skipped a beat.
A handful of other believers were coming towards them, led by a woman in a magenta uniform. He knew her face, despite the fact that he had only seen her on a couple of occasions.
Back when he was still recovering from his eye surgery at Jumin’s penthouse, he had taken every chance to help Nari adjust to her new role. Sometimes that amounted to describing the personality of interviewers or the places she should avoid if she didn’t want to be swarmed by the media. At other times, his help arrived in the form of making tea and reading through the seemingly endless lists of things that needed her attention.
On a few of those occasions, Nari’s assistant had visited the penthouse, though for the most part he only ever encountered her as a disembodied voice on the other end of the phone. The few times he had seen her, she had been clutching bubble tea or informing Nari of appointments added to her schedule at the last moment. He was sure he had seen her at one of his exhibitions too, though the last time he had had one he and Rika were still together, so he was sure he must have been mistaken.
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense for Rika to plant someone like her so close to Nari and he wondered exactly how long she had been planning such a move. How long had Juyeon known about Rika’s plans? In any case, he realised that she must have been the ‘Miss Jenny’ the other acolytes had spoken of.
He clenched his hands into fists at what followed her; she led a number of hooded believers, one of whom cradled a body in their arms.
No. Not a body. Nari.
The acolyte held her with the same amount of care one would expect of a ragdoll, allowing one of her arms to dangle to the floor as the other lay crushed against their body.
All he could think about was her laughter all of those months ago. The three of them once played poker; Nari setting down her earrings and Jumin a book from his shelf. He had long wondered what to bet himself and ultimately set down an IOU.
“An IOU?” Jumin had said, examining the paper.
“Yes,” he said. “Whoever wins this can ask one thing of me in the future.”
“That’s potentially dangerous.”
“Are you suggesting either of us would take advantage of him?” Nari had laughed and, beaten, Jumin shuffled the cards.
Unsurprisingly, she won, and Jihyun knew from Jumin’s soft smile as she turned the pages of her new book that he was not the only one who had allowed her to win.
Of late, her laughter only left him guilty. It was his fault that she had been tricked into the apartment; his fault that she lay unconscious in front of him. Every time she laughed, he remembered Jumin’s lips against his own and his own deep, dark need to believe she could not be trusted.
He remembered Jumin’s insistences as they sat on the roof of the penthouse that they tell her about the kiss they had shared. He wanted her to know everything, and it was Jihyun who protested. He hated change, yet wanted everything to. He did not want to hurt her even slightly, yet wanted to steal away everything she held dear.
He was the one who couldn’t be trusted; Nari’s bright smile when she returned to the penthouse only serving as a cruel reminder of his betrayal. She was so eager to know if they had enjoyed the meteor shower and he realised too late her full intentions. It was no coincidence that she had left them alone together; that she had orchestrated everything in the hopes that they would repair their friendship.
He could not bring himself to regret the kiss, but he was sure he would regret the betrayal for the rest of his life.
“Juyeon,” he called, dragging down the hood of his cloak.
She seemed surprised that anyone had called out to her by name, though the shock left her as soon as she saw him standing there.
“Let her go,” he said, gaze drifting from her to Nari, his trembling hands breaking any illusion of composure.
“Well, well, well,” said Juyeon, approaching him in the same slow, practised fashion a tiger might. “What have we here?”
They took him to a cell in the basement. Jihyun knew from observations and conversations with acolytes that up until recently, such a thing was rarely done; it was the norm to take prisoners and any intruders before the saviour until they were cleansed and no longer deemed dangerous or, alternatively, died in captivity. For him to be isolated so quickly meant only one thing: he was considered an enemy of the organisation and if Rika came to see him at all, it would be to announce whatever torture she had in mind for him.
The guards draped a hood over his head that smelled mouldy, as if it was designated for drownings, and he choked at the smell as they pushed his shoulder to get him moving. They probably only walked down a couple of short flights of stairs, but it felt like he walked for miles. Finally, the guard tugged the cloak from his head and kicked him into the back of his new prison, locking it behind them with a mutter that they would come back once they had received orders.
“Come back and let me out of here,” Jihyun threw his body against the bars. “Tell the saviour to come!”
They did not acknowledge him, though, no matter how hard he shook the bars. He slumped to the floor despairingly, considering Nari’s limp body in the acolyte’s arms. In retrospect everything was obvious to him; he should never have suspected her, should never have fallen into the trap of questioning her intentions solely because she had won the heart of his friend. He should have told her everything from the beginning instead of succumbing to jealousy.
He wondered if he would ever get the chance to explain her current circumstances; if he would ever be able to take her hands in his and explain how he had kissed Jumin on the roof of the penthouse. The latter scared him most of all and he could not bear to imagine her reaction. In his heart, she would always be happy and smiling, brewing good coffee and pouring bad wine. She would always be the one who laughed at his double entendres and scolded him for missing meals.
And in that moment, just like Ray before him, he realised his love for her like a storm cloud overhead.
“M….Mathter V, thir,” someone mumbled in the adjoining cell, dragging him out of his thoughts. He peered into the darkness to make out the owner and gasped when he saw.
“Driver Kim!”
This was not the Driver Kim of days past, however. This man drooled blood and had cuts across his temples.
“What happened to you?” Jihyun said, holding onto the bars that separated them. “Who did this?”
Driver Kim’s eyes glazed over at the memory and Jihyun regretted asking him.
“I’ll get you out of here,” said Jihyun, seeing the occupants of the other cells for the first time. He recognised them all; had seen their faces in Luciel’s files. They were all members of the agency and all MIA. The ones that weren’t unconscious groaned in pain at their injuries, some even chained to the floor of their cell.
“I’ll save you,” Jihyun muttered. “I’ll save you all.”
Somehow.
Nari’s senses were muffled when she opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she was back in the penthouse and half expected Jumin to be beside her.
It came as something of a surprise when she found herself tied to a chair in a strange room, arms bound behind her back and someone, whose voice she only half recognised, muttering that she was waking up.
Nari lifted her head, instantly regretting it as a sharp headache flooded her senses. She hissed with pain, leaning over until she could see straight ahead before making a second attempt to sit up.
Juyeon was standing on the other side of the room… or at least she thought it was Juyeon. This Juyeon had on a strange magenta uniform with a rose fixed to her blazer. What’s more, even though that Juyeon stared her in the face, there was no hint of recognition in her features.
“Ju…Juyeon?”
Juyeon did not reply. It was someone else who reached for her face: someone with sharp nails and a black mask that obscured their features.
“Welcome to paradise, Nari Song.”
They reached to clamp their hand down over her nose, clutching a vial of a bright blue liquid in the other. Nari clenched her mouth shut, unable to tear her eyes away from Juyeon, who watched her struggle without a reaction. Beside her stood Ray, who fiddled with his hands and avoided her gaze.
Her chest burned and she gasped for air, giving her assailant the opportunity to force the bottle against her lips. The liquid inside was bitter, burning her throat and insides, through when she tried to spit it out the masked stranger slammed her hand over her lips, forcing them shut until she had no choice but to swallow.
“What have you….done to me?” She asked, trying to spit out the remainder of the liquid, stomach churning so forcefully that she was sure she was going to throw up.  
“Please,” she murmured, the shakiness of her hands transferring into her voice. “Let me go.”
“Don’t look so sad,” they said, so close that their breath was warm against her face. “I would never hurt someone so precious to Ray.”
Nari’s heart skipped a beat and Ray called out from the other side of the room.
“Saviour-”
“You may leave.”
Nari’s thoughts had been muddled and confused even before having a chemical forced down her throat and she dug her nails into her palms in an attempt to stop the room spinning. She remembered Juyeon’s words only a short time earlier:
At this rate, that Ray guy will think you’re running away from him. He is a little weird, don’t you think?
Haven’t you seen those long lingering looks he gives you? I think he has a crush on you.
As Ray and Juyeon left the room, Ray’s hands twitching and his expression one of concern, Nari could not help but think about how comforting it was that at least one part of her stay had been real. Perhaps it was the drug, or her own fear, but when the door closed it echoed in her senses. What was going to happen to her now? She wished Juyeon and Ray would just come back, for even if their intentions were far from pleasant, she would at the very least recognise their faces. There was something strange about their ‘saviour’; a kind of familiarity that she did not understand.
“You have such beautiful eyes,” said the saviour, “I can see why Jumin favours you.”
Nari’s heart skipped a beat.
“What do you know about Jumin?”
“I know that Jumin is the CEO in-line,” said the saviour. “I know that he prefers the finer things in life… Egyptian cotton, aged whiskeys…intelligent women. Most importantly, I know that he wouldn’t let just anybody into his inner circle. Tell me, how do you find my RFA?”
Up until that point, C&R was the most obvious reason she had been kidnapped. She had, of course, forgotten that without enemies to the RFA she might never have arrived in the apartment all of those months ago.
“ Your RFA?” She said, realisation rapidly sinking in.
She finally understood why the masked woman looked familiar. Even with the mask on, her resemblance to the girl in V’s photographs was obvious.
“No,” said Nari. “You- you’re dead!”
“That’s what V told you,” said Rika, “and you must not believe his lies.”
Nari was not so naive as to think V had never lied to or kept information from her. She had watched him play poker, after all. He had an excellent poker face even as he let her win.
“I’m sure he had his reasons.”
“It seems he has already poisoned you,” laughed Rika. “I wonder what sweet promises he whispered in your ear to make you trust him so much.”
“He didn’t whisper anything! I know he’s a good man.”
Rika sighed, clearly unimpressed with her answer.
“Tell me Miss Song,” she said softly, placing a hand on Nari’s shoulder, “what are you afraid of? Shall I guess?”
“I…no…I-”
“Hmmmm,” Rika searched her face. “You stayed with the RFA even after there was no need for you to. You attend every meeting Jumin asks of you… could it be?”
She smiled cruelly, sending shivers down Nari’s spine.
“Are you afraid of being alone?”
Suddenly Nari was fourteen again, sticking pictures of idols she did not even like to the inside of her locker. Rika pressed a finger against her lips, coming to a conclusion before she could confirm or deny it.
“Sssssh, it’s okay,” she said. “In this place, no one will leave you. We will be kinder to you than the RFA. Nobody here will dictate how you dress or what you eat. We will not lie to you or ignore you, like Jumin and the rest of the RFA.”
Nari thrashed, eager to shake off Rika’s touch.
“I LOVE Jumin,” she protested. “I want to make him happy.”
Even as she said it, she knew how it sounded. She would not have believed her either.
“You’re very kind,” said Rika. “And so simple minded. What makes you so sure that he cares for you?”
Ordinarily, Nari would have been offended by such an insinuation. Ever since news of her engagement went public, she had scowled at so many articles about the status of her private life that Jumin had stroked her hair and warned her that she would age prematurely. Now, though, all she could think about was the clatter of her engagement ring against the kitchen tiles and Jumin’s words on the messenger.
Perhaps I only loved you because I thought you were something more. Perhaps you were always meant to be a stranger to the RFA. I think… that if I had not proposed to you so publicly, in such a way, I might never have married you.
Every breath left her mind and body fluttering, as if she bobbed up and down on a stormy sea. She hated herself and her own naivety. How had she never realised that she was being manipulated? How had she allowed herself into such a situation?
“He loves me!” She spat, closing her eyes. She refused to believe Jumin’s affection was a dream; just another stain in her ivory tower.
Rika seemed delighted by her responses, reaching out a finger to catch her tears.
“Jumin…loves me,” said Nari, more to herself than to Rika. “He loves me.”
He loves me.
She remembered Sarah Choi’s horrified expression as he leaned in for their first kiss; a kiss that tasted of pancakes and gave her butterflies.
She remembered how her hand trembled when he fell to one knee at the party.
She remembered the scent of roses against her skin as he sat behind her in the bathtub to wash her back.
He loves me .
She also remembered his expression in their last argument; the sound of him moving around the kitchen as she waited for him to knock on her bedroom door.
He loves me
He loves
He
She repeated it even as everything went black and her head lolled over onto her chest.
“Don’t worry,” said Rika, stroking her hair. “I’m not the same as them. I want you exactly as you are.”
She cupped a hand around Nari’s face, feeling for her breath against her skin. She had made such a powerful elixir and many people were not strong enough to survive the ordinary batches. Those that did came out transformed, butterflies from a painful chrysalis, wiser for their introduction into the truth of the world.
Nari’s breaths did not come, however. Rika’s hand remained as cold as it had always been. With a frown, she pressed her fingers against the other woman’s neck, feeling for a pulse where there was none.
She let go of Nari’s head, then, sighing deeply and crossing the room to pour herself a cup of tea.
Perhaps they were not so similar after all.
Three months earlier
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Wow, what a race. Except, Celtman is not just a race, it is so much more.  
So please forgive me rambling…… several years ago a friend raced Celtman, I dismissed it as a crazy notion stating something about no-way on earth, what’s the point, etc, etc!  To be honest, I didn’t really understand it.  Also, from a personal perspective, about 3 years ago to the day of this race, I stood on the finish line of an Ironman distance and said I was never going to race that far again – it’s a bit antisocial and unpleasant!  Therefore, in theory, I shouldn’t be writing this.
Fast forward to Sept 2017 and I turn up to the ‘welcome to the Tri Club’ evening at University of Stirling and stand talking to a guy called Robin who was wearing a Celtman jacket. We both thought the session was a bit rubbish and a friendship instantly formed.  Robin is from the Celtman area in Wester Ross and was going to race again last year – he finished 9th!  
Over the forthcoming months, basically, Robin goaded me into entering the ballot, promising to be my support if I got in.  I entered and didn’t really think I would get a place, but come November, I got through. That meant there were going to be several months of committed training and preparation.  You see, this is not just about it being one of the hardest races in the UK, it is also as close to a team participation effort as you get in triathlon – instead of your nearest and dearest seeing you a few times during the whole race they have to: help you out of the swim and through T1; feed, water and mechanic you on the bike; help you go from bike to run at T2; and bring stuff to an extra transition (T2a); and someone has to run with you if you make the cut off time at T2a.  
What had I done?!  
Luckily my better half is very understanding (or was eventually after being a bit annoyed with me) and Robin was good to his word.  Support crew in place.  In addition, to help me keep focussed and structured I decided to engage a coach – who is a person, but I never meet them, setting a programme around my availability via Training Peaks.  Over the next few months I follow the programme as well as I can with work and travel and begin to feel pretty fit.  Then I get to the tricky part….equipment.  Father Christmas sorted out all of the ‘I wouldn’t buy them if it wasn’t for this race’ things.  But the key thing was my bike - my TT was bought in 2006!  It was a good bike at the time and still pretty reliable now, but was quite dated.  After a period of ‘negotiation’, I eventually become the owner of a shiny new Giant Trinity (and eventually she got some new shoes too (from HED wheels) – after further negotiation with the holder of the purse strings!).  I rode her for virtually every training ride from April.
At Easter we went to stay with Robin to recce the course, I saw the swim, swam/froze in a different loch, cycled 100mile of the bike route and we walked the mountain section.  I’ve got to be honest, it was so hard it scared me! And I realised just how much more work I needed to do.  I did. Am working in Portsmouth for the summer so joined Portsmouth Triathletes and got some sea swims in, then I rode Fred Whitton only 3 weeks later.  I was able to get off the bike and run 10k off road, which restored some of my confidence.  Over the last 6 weeks I just focussed and built.  I’m not a lover of going up-hill on foot or bike and with a dodgy left ankle I usually avoid off road – but I’ve done more vertical in the last few months than I have in years and almost look comfortable on the Fells!  
So, with the exception of a bit of a tight calf for a couple of weeks I managed I get to the start line having swum 76km, cycled 3309km and run 630km, since January (and no-one really cares, but I also skied 500km).  Quite possibly the most committed I’ve been to any race ever. This meant that, surprisingly, I was feeling quite calm about heading north.
We decided to make a bit of a holiday out of the race so headed to Scotland a few days in advance. Got some swims and bit of a bike and drove the course in advance.  Apart from the distance across the Loch looking huge and the mountains looking as menacing as they were on the recce I was ready physically and psychologically for the race.  Kathryn and I spent a couple of days with Robin to prep, boxes for each transition, an ‘I’m cold’ box, nutrition, fluid and spares – all sorted and loaded into our trusty camper van.  We were ready.
Now, if you aren’t too bored and haven’t forgotten what I said at the beginning, Celtman is more than just a race.  This is in relation to the community, affinity/respect of the landscape/elements and with each other.  In essence, Celtman is an all-encompassing extended family.
I had an idea it was like this from the way Robin described it, but it started to come to life when we met up on Wednesday evening at the bar in Shieldaig.  Talking to the locals it started to become obvious that this event is an important part of the local calendar.  Whilst they think we are a bit bonkers taking part, they genuinely want us to do well and enjoy what their corner of Scotland has to offer.  As we head into registration and briefing on Friday, the ‘family’ shows itself we don’t see Robin for hours (and this is a repeating theme over the weekend – he’s always chatting!).  On a personal level, it is all very relaxed and welcoming. No question is too stupid – even though some of my fellow competitors could perhaps have read the race manual more fully!  That’s it. Time to apply numbers to bike, hat, belt and sticker up the car.  Food and bed. It’s race time.
‘twas the night before race day and all through the house, it felt like everyone else was asleep but me! My calm relaxed state of mind was gone. Had a bit of a cat nap but when I pulled my ass out of bed at 2am I hadn’t had too much shut eye.  Hey ho, time to focus.  It was a 15minute drive to the T1, where we would collect our GPS trackers and timing dibbers.  The weather forecast at briefing was fine.  But this is Scotland.  It was raining.  In the drizzle my team racked the bike and then I said my temporary goodbyes and went to get the swim start bus at 4am.  The bus journey takes about 20mins on a tiny road.  As we disembarked the piper and drummers start up, in growing light of the dawn, 200 neoprene clad bodies keeping warm by the potted fires, making nervous small-talk is a slightly surreal experience.
Celtman has traditions, before the start they set fire to a giant logo and we get our photo graph taken. In addition, this edition of recognised the recent passing of a significant member of the Celtman Family, Chris Stirling.  Chris had taken part several times going from novice to race winner (as well as winning other XTri events around the world).  Despite being a member of the same Triathlon Club I hardly knew Chris; I had only met him when he sold me my new bike.  But he spent the time while we were setting it up to talk to me about the race, tactics, pitfalls, etc – his love and passion for everything Celtman/Xtri was palpable.  His untimely passing is very sad.  In the half light on the shore of Loch Torridon we celebrated his life.
As time ticked down towards 5am it was time to enter the cold, salty Loch.  We made our way out from the shore to the start line, 10mins, 5mins, 2mins, 1min… Go.   Like all good triathlons there was a mad scramble for a few seconds while we all found our space.  The route is from one side of the Loch to the other, the finish is blind for most of the swim.  First head towards island 1, then spot on the white house behind island 2, then as we round island 2 head into the shore.  3400m with the jelly fish.
I got into my rhythm quite quickly and felt like I was moving fairly easily.  As we went past the first island there was a little bit of swell on the water, not too much but it meant extra concentration, then we found the jelly fish – wow they are big, more solid than you think if you try to push one out of the way but actually very pretty!  By this point I was largely on my own, I was aware of a couple of my swimmers to my left and right but largely we were all ploughing our own line. All became smooth again as we approached the second island, I felt I was going quite well but was a little anxious I was going to be a bit slower than my 1hr target time.  As I rounded the rocks on the end of the island I found a line into the finish and kept my steady pace going.  As I exited the water I felt good, and was able to get up an moving on my own (though had a little stumble).  Quick glance at my watch and I’d hit my plan time.  What I didn’t realise was that I was 23rdout of the water (making this probably my best ever swim).
Transition is usually my specialty!  This was the first test of our team work, Robin grabbed me and guided me up transition, we had a cameraman following us too, I managed to start to get out of my wetsuit but did need some help and ended up sitting down.  We had identified different laying strategies depending upon how cold I was.  Went for a vest under tri-suit and cycle shirt on top, some bike mits and sealskin socks as I was ok. No problems - I’m in and out in less than 5mins (6thfastest).
Out of transition is a little hill and then there are a couple of rises round to Torridon in the first 7miles before you hit 10miles of single track road out to Kinlockewe. This is a gradual rise for 8 miles before 2 miles down to where T2 will be.   I’d enough food and drink for the first 2.5hrs as it can be a problem for the support team to get up the single track road with the numbers of bikes.  My high position out of the swim meant this was no problem for them, so they went off to get breakfast at mile 34.  After the T2 junction there was going to be a tail wind for 20odd miles up the side of Loch Maree.  The road is a false flat until we get to a decent climb before Gairloch, I put my head down and made the most of this favourable wind.  I lose a few places on the road as the slow swim/fast bike guy’s get their acts together!  At Gairloch we turn and head north mainly along the coast, the wind is sort of head/cross and the road starts to undulate.  
Kathryn and Robin make frequent stops for food and drink.  Its great, they have cowbells and just offer so much encouragement.  Back to the Celtman family thing, everyone offers encouragement to everyone, it’s great as an athlete.
As the road continues to rise and fall, some just 20-40m, others up to 100m, we approach Badcaul and head into the wind.  This is going to be 50+miles of straight headwind, probably somewhere around 8-10mph, there are two big climbs just before and after Dundonnell (where Tim Rice owns Dundonnell Hall).  This section is all about managing my pace, I know at the end of this section there is a glorious tailwind for 24miles.  I try to be conservative and but lose a few more places on the road, my team continue to yell encouragement and advice.  My tummy hurts, it’s messing with my head.  I stop to feed the plants (not in my plan!).  After that though I feel better focussed and on the downhill where I’m going nowhere near as fast as I want because of the wind I just keep it steady. Running in the last few miles to Garve I’m just thinking about the last section and busily trying to compute what my likely time will be.  At the turn, if I carry on at the pace I’m going it will be something like a 7hr 40 bike, which will put me under a lot of pressure for the blue tshirt and trip over the mountain.
I turn right, feel the wind. This is going to be great, it will be quicker.  It is, I manage the last 24 and a bit miles in <1h10 – which was pretty quick for me. I take a few places back.  This section basically drags uphill for 20miles at about 1-2% (with a couple of steeper bits) followed by 4miles downhill which are quite steep and fast.  Adrenaline heaven.  I hit T2 and I’m buzzing. 7hr 12m for the 124miles.  A little behind schedule but all within range.
Although I mention losing and taking places on the road I actually have no idea where I am in the race. I didn’t ask, and Kathryn & Robin decided not to tell me!  At this point I’m 28th.
Through T2 in <5mins and Robin and I start to run (well jog), and we leave Kathryn to pack up my mess. The first couple of miles are flat on a forest trail and road, before heading up 250m of vertical, some on muddy deforested hillside and then onto gravel track.  We walk up the hill and I enjoy a lovely ham sandwich and some salt & vinegar crisps.  Awesome lunch.  We jog over the top and down to the loch, along a gravel trail back to the road. Just a couple of miles to T2a and the magic cut-off.  We have loads of time and make T2a at 10h22m29s i.e. with more than 37m before the 11hr cut off.  I need another call of nature, grab a cup of tea and a sandwich.  
We are off to the mountain. Say bye to Kathryn and off we go. I have to admit, the euphoria of knowing I’d met my objective (subject to finishing) was a little too much, and I lost some focus.  It is a 900m climb to the top of Spidean Coire nan Clach, I start steady.  Robin is great, giving constant encouragement and feeding/watering me.  I just have to keep moving.  
However, when it got really steep, I had a bit of a psychological meltdown!  I didn’t really want to go on, I would happily have turned around.  I got a pretty stern talking to and then Robin went up not down.  I dug in. Slow steps, hands on knees to help. I had to focus on one step at a time. Robin continually encouraging me. In no time we were on the ridge, the really difficult uphill was behind us. Robin had a chat – he knew the crew! We got a nice picture and carried on. The summit was in sight.  There were no clouds, there was no wind and the big yellow sunny thing was out.  It was absolutely stunning.  
I guess it was a bit frustrating for Robin, but I mainly walked along the ridge on the way to Ruadh-stac Mòr, the highest point of the day at 1010m.  A few people passed us and we kept passing/being passed by Geddes & Ryan – which was quite nice!  Grabbed a few sweets and a few drops of water from the summit crew and then its just 1000m of descent to go.
First up is scree slope. There are two ways down, the quick way (down the centre) and the safe way (along the edge).  We went the safe way.  A few people went down the centre but didn’t really get too much advantage. After this we wound our way through the rock field to the Loch, around the Loch before the final mountain decent on a rough rock path.  It’s not the most pleasant of runs.  It was at this point the heavens opened.  We just plodded on.  As the path became less steep and the rock pathway more regular we started to jog. I’m not really sure how it happened, but once I started jogging I felt OK, and I just kept going.  Eventually the road comes into sight, its almost a relief the last section.  
Time for the victory dance. The last 8.4km are along the road, we ran the whole way in - it wasn’t quick, it wasn’t pretty but is was steady. The last mile is a little bit cruel. As you arrive at Torridon village, instead of heading straight to the village hall, to get up to 42km, the route goes out along the Loch edge before heading back into the village and up a tiny incline (that feels like a mountain) before the glorious blue arch and the finish line.  I crossed that line in 15h42m0s. (7h25m53s run split).  It was a bit emotional.  Hugs with Kathryn, hugs with Robin.  To be honest I’d have hugged anyone.  And the brilliant reward for crossing that finish line…..a bottle of beer.  I’ve not had a beer in months, I was looking forward to it.
We got some food, had some chats, more hugs and went to bed.  I was knackered and happy.  I’d made my target and would pick up my blue t-shirt in the morning.  I fell asleep with a cup of tea in my hand.
When we arrived at the hall for results on Sunday morning I was pretty stunned to find out I was 33rdoverall (and although it doesn’t count for anything in this event 1stof the SuperVets!).  Although I’ve put the positions in above these are from the results; I actually thought I was much nearer to the back of the field than I was – Kathryn & Robin then fessed up that they knew I was going pretty well, but they didn’t tell me in case I Iost focus.  Glad they did as I probably would.
The presentation morning is part of the tradition.  All athletes and supporters turn up, grab bacon butties & a cup of tea and chat about their experience amongst themselves.  At 11 o’clock we were all called to order and asked to sit down on the wooden floor – for some, not the easiest with the lovely lactic flowing through our joints.  We started with a little video the team had put together overnight – was totally awesome, and I featured twice (see link, I’m at 1m11 & 1m56!).  The prizes followed - sunglasses, fizz and a picture to the male & female winners plus Norseman entry to 1st& 2nd.  The podium got their t-shirts of blueness.  Then those who had completed five, yes five, Celtmans entered the hallowed red t-shirt club – 2 new entrants this year.  Total kudos to these people.  The raffle and the lucky dip for guaranteed Norseman entry – I didn’t win, but I may be single now if I’d won a place!  
Then a new annual award was announced.  The Chris Stirling Rock Award – it recognises someone who (like Chris) encapsulates ‘the spirit of Celtman’; i.e. through their achievements, commitment, support, etc to the Celtman community.  The inaugural winner is Ryan Maclean, who has participated 4 times, been a support runner (as he was this year) and provides other support/advice too.
It was then time to collect our t-shirts and head outside for the traditional group photo in front of the mountain.  I have never been so proud of a race t-shirt!
The day is not complete there though….after an afternoon of R&R and packing, it is back to the Torridon village hall for an evening of alcohol (other drinks were available), music and dancing.  There were many people in tartan, the celtman beer flowed well and we all talked excitedly about the race.  Virtually everyone in the room got up to dance at some point.  It was the most relaxed and enjoyable end to a race I have ever experienced.  I especially enjoyed the version of Thunderstruck by ACDC played on the piano accordion.  Amazeballs.
Before I go I need to thank two special people…. Robin, your energy and enthusiasm was infectious and never ending, without you I would not have finished; I have a debt of gratitude I can probably never repay.  Kathryn, thank you for putting up with me week-in-week-out, I guess I need to make it up to you….holiday to my next race?
I set out to write a brief race report, but I seem to have written a short novel instead!  Celtman got under my skin.  I get the whole thing now.  It is the most difficult one day event I have ever participated in, somehow managing to be simultaneously brutal and beautiful.  But it is not just the physical challenge, it doesn’t matter whether you wear white, blue, red or didn’t make it.  No-one cares.  It’s about being part of the family.  Thankyou CxTri, fellow athletes, support teams, race crew and the local people. #memoriesforlife
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i-see-shapes · 5 years
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The Scottish miserabilists are releasing a new album in 2015, so what better way to drum up anticipation than a top eight list of all their albums? From fan favourites to teenage confusion, here’s Roddy’s rundown
Roddy Woomble
Mon 17 Nov 2014 10.48 EST
1 Everything Ever Written (2015)
New records represent who you are now – and they include all the different versions of you leading up to that point. At times this is our most mellow record and at others, our most chaotic – consistently though, it is our most confident. We were 18 when we formed the band – that was 20 years ago now – I’d like to think at least musically, we have aged gracefully and naturally. We are not in a rush anymore. Self-produced over an 18-month period, Everything Ever Written is a labour of love. After our break, we took our time to get all the songs the way we wanted them to sound. We have two new members, Andrew Mitchell and Luciano Rossi, who have both added so much. The band is re-energised: it is a new version of an old band.
Key tracks: Collect Yourself, Come on Ghost
2 Warnings/Promises (2005)
This record represents one of the most creative and productive periods in the band’s history, and maybe also the most fun I’ve ever had recording. Written in the Scottish Highlands, it was recorded in Sunset Sound Studios in Los Angeles over a glorious two-month period in the summer of 2004. We rented a house in West Hollywood with a pool and lemon trees in the garden and lived out our Laurel canyon fantasies: cruising down Sunset Boulevard, weekends in Topanga canyon, pool parties and trips to Big Sur. The studio was full of great sounding old vintage gear, and producer Tony Hoffer brought in loads of cool extra musicians to enhance the songs and sound – pedal steel, strings, female vocalists – our Byrds and Crosby, Stills and Nash influences were finally allowed to shine through. None of us wanted to leave.
Key tracks: Too Long Awake, El Capitan, As If I Haven’t Slept
3 100 Broken Windows (2000)
A fan favourite, and the earliest of our albums I can listen to now and still enjoy. It has the right balance of distortion and melody – very stark and Scottish sounding, oblique lyrics full of references (Gertrude Stein, post-modernism, crofting, Scottish mountains), vague black and white artwork – all the ingredients for an album that will stay with you, if it hits you at the right time in your listening life. We were improving as musicians and songwriters all the time, but not so much for the album to lose its raw edges. 100 Broken Windows debuted in the Top 20, our tours were selling out, and there was a real feeling of some kind of momentum behind the band. An exciting time.
Key tracks: Roseability, Little Discourage
4 The Remote Part (2002)
This debuted in the charts at No 3 behind Oasis and the Red Hot Chilli peppers. We were on Top of the Pops, magazine covers and the spotlight was on us. It was a strange period, but one that we had been moving towards for five years. Not that we were prepared; in fact, we were at our most unprepared and fractured. Bassist Bob Fairfoull walked out of the band and we played some truly terrible gigs in front of very large crowds – we just weren’t up to it, and so the spotlight moved on. In hindsight, this was probably for the best. The record itself was good enough for the masses, although its slick production was not to everyone’s taste – but it sounded good on the radio. To me, American English still sounds like it could have been a worldwide hit. It wasn’t of course.
Key tracks: You Held the World in Your Arms, American English, In Remote Part/Scottish Fiction
5 Captain (1998)
This survives the test of time on youthful zeal and punk rock spirit. How producer Paul Tipler managed to get this out of us in three days I don’t know. We couldn’t really play, let alone play in time – our concerts at the time had a real reputation for teenage chaos and excitement – but in a studio it sounded like a mess, or “a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs”, as NME famously put it. Somehow in a cheap demo studio in south London, Paul whipped us into shape and this mini album captured some of that live spirit, made it listenable, and put us on plenty of those Bands to Watch lists that year. It also got us out in a van on tour. The title track is still regularly in our live sets.
Key tracks: Self-Healer, Captain
6 Post Electric Blues (2009)
This is the most overlooked record in our catalogue – perhaps unfairly, as it starts as well as any of them – and the first three songs are among our best. It gets a bit directionless in the latter half perhaps, but hopefully never to the point of being boring. Like its predecessor, Make Another World, Post Electric Blues was made very quickly and in some ways is a product of its circumstance. We needed a record out so we could go on tour again. This LP was initially funded by fans via a pre-order scheme and then later licensed to a label. I was sceptical of this method at first, but it proved quite liberating after years of being signed to record labels. We realised that controlling the process ourselves and selling directly to fans was the way forward. Everyone is doing it these days.
Key tracks: Younger than America, Readers & Writers
7 Make Another World (2007)
When I think back to this record, I can’t help but picture being stuck in a rehearsal space in an industrial unit in Fife, eating microwavable lasagne. Across the road there is a boarded-up housing scheme, and it’s always raining. After leaving EMI and spending so long on the previous record, we wrote, recorded and mixed this one in our practice space in about six months. I had made a very folky solo record the year previously, which had done quite well, and I was excited about incorporating some of these new influences in Idlewild, leading on from what we started with Warning/Promises. At the time though, the rest of the band weren’t into this and wanted to make a rock record. Subsequently there was a division of tastes, and Make Another World suffers from a lack of range. There are some good songs in there, the title track in particular, but for me, a back-to-basics, unhappy, slightly claustrophobic feeling reigns supreme.
Key tracks: Make Another World, Future Works
8 Hope Is Important (1998)
It’s cruel of me to put a record at the bottom of my list that I know means a lot to Idlewild fans. However, listening to this is akin to looking at a photograph of yourself as a teenager – awkward, not quite fully formed – you know it’s you, but it’s hard to recognise that person. Musically, Hope Is Important is caught between Captain and 100 Broken Windows and was just a bit confused generally. Maybe its charm lies in this confusion. There are certainly enough hooks, riffs, quirkiness and noisy moments to still validate it. Ultimately this record did what it needed to: it kept us in the van and on tour for a year, making us become better as a band.
Key tracks: A Film for the Future, When I Argue I See Shapes
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