#and my body temp runs a little hotter than a lot of other people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paullahotes · 5 years ago

Text

Incalescent-Chapter Four

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!OC

Summary: Em just wants to be loved and have a family for once in her life. But nothing has ever gone right in her life before so why should it now?

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: kissing, tiny vampires who won’t take no for an answer, lots of feelings that are all over the place

A/N: Listen, I don’t think I’m a good writer so this could be terrible! Let me know what you guys think of it!

Paul had cooked for me again when we got back from the beach. We had only spent a short amount of time there but my face was feeling tight with a little sunburn. Though I was grateful because I hadn’t had much sun since being here in Forks. I also felt grateful now for the blush that spread across my cheeks every time I looked at Paul. As I had watched him cooking with his back turned to me everything felt like it was falling into place.

I had spent my whole life thinking that everything was going to be awful and lonely. I always thought that it would just be my father and I, with him forcing me into solitude for fear of people finding out our secrets. Now so many people knew our secrets and I couldn’t feel safer. The thought of my dad randomly popping in still loomed in the back of my mind, though I knew he wouldn’t find out about anything. Who would tell?

Yesterday had gone so well after I ditched the rest of my school day that I decided to go against my father's wishes and skip school again today. Paul had given me a clean shirt for the day after I spent the night at his house. The fabric was soft and smelled like him. He was out on patrol now but every time I inhaled I could smell him and that comforted me.

Thinking back to last night was a good distraction from how bad I was turning out to be at sewing. I was at Emily’s house, sitting on her couch and sewing the packs clothes back together. They shredded them when having to phase quickly and Emily tried her best to put them back together so they didn’t have to keep buying new ones. My fingers fumbled with the small, delicate needle as I worked on a pair of Embry’s shorts. They weren’t too bad and I’m sure Emily would have no problem fixing them but my fingers were not cooperating with the task at hand.

“Have you ever sewed anything before?” Emily asked, laughing lightly as she saw me struggle with the needle. I huffed out blowing a piece of hair out of my face and glared at her slightly. The smile on her face didn’t waver and she mumbled, “so stubborn, just like Paul.”

“I will learn how to do this correctly,” I mumbled out through my gritted teeth. Over the years I hadn’t taken on too many hobbies that involved me producing something. I was always fascinated with art and got really in Art History at whatever high school I went to. But I never took a regular art class and when I was forced to I didn’t excel in the slightest. The same went for my love of books and music, I would never sit down and write either.

“At least you’re trying to help,” Emily mumbled back, there was a needle pressed between her lips as she spoke. “Jared’s girlfriend is a very lovely girl but she took one look at me doing this one day and didn’t offer anything. She just sat with him at the kitchen table, eating the food I had made.”

“Hm, maybe I should’ve done that,” I joked just as the needle poked my finger. It didn’t bleed, thanks to my more durable than human skin. I swore quietly to myself and shook my finger off, it was more of a hit to my ego than painful.

Emily and I fell into silence then, except for my occasional swearing. It wasn’t long until I had finished Embry’s shorts and I was sighing in relief. I held them up to inspect them and saw that they were in fact wearable but he would win no fashion awards for them.

We spent a couple hours sewing, some of it in silence and some of it with the living room filled with laughter. Being at Emily’s place felt like home. People were constantly coming in and out, leaving food or taking it. Over the course of the day I had seen every member of the pack and their girlfriends. I had even had the privilege of meeting Sue Clearwater when Leah had shown up with her in tow. They were stopping by to grab some of the clothes, Leah didn’t have any clothes of her own to sew because she had finally controlled her random phasing.

I noticed as I was going through the pile of clothes that Emily had given me, none of them belonged to Paul. I scanned the piles of freshly sewn shorts and shirts from Emily’s piles and realized none of Paul’s clothes were there either. Emily noticed my looks and followed my gaze around the room as I looked.

“Paul can control his phasing, he was the worst at first. We’d be sitting around, laughing at some jokes and suddenly the urge to phase hit him and he had to run out of the house quickly.” Emily explained to me like she could read my mind. Paul always seemed so collected that it sounded odd to me that he had trouble controlling anything. I started to wonder how that would even work, I didn’t really know anything about the wolves and I had yet to ask Paul.

“When were you going to tell us?” Emily and I were taken out of our thoughts as we heard Leah’s voice call out. The front door banged open to reveal Leah standing with her hands on her hips. Her eyes trained directly on me.

“Tell you what?” I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion. Leah walked over and sat on the couch next to me. Emily had stopped sewing and pushed everything to the side, watching our interaction.

“When we are in our wolf forms we can hear each other's thoughts, all of each other's thoughts,” Leah started, looking over at Emily and then back to me. “Paul and I were just phased at the same time with a couple others and he was thinking about something that happened between the two of you.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, my body started to feel hot all over. My mind wandered back to Paul and I kissing the previous day. It didn’t dawn on me how it would look wearing his shirt and I hoped they didn’t notice that I was wearing it.

“What happened?” Emily asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside my legs. She looked up at me with wide, excited eyes as she waited for me to spill the details. I pushed my sewing stuff to the side before looking between Emily and Leah.

“Paul and I kissed…” I trailed off as the two women squealed, Leah gripping my shoulder and lightly shaking me. “...we kissed a lot.”

“Finally, I’ve been getting sick of Paul’s sad inner monologue about he thought you hated him because you weren’t showing any signs of liking him beyond friendship,” I rolled my eyes at Paul’s idiocy.

“I’m very happy for the two of you! From what I hear you make Paul happier than he’s ever been,” Emily said, with her hand on my knee and squeezing it encouragingly.

Emily and Leah forced me to tell every single detail from the day before. Every kiss that Paul and I shared, along with every last thing we said to each other before and after. They were both confused when they asked if he told me about the tribes legends and I said that he hadn’t. They both shared a knowing look and dropped the subject quickly. The interaction made me make a mental note to ask Paul about it later.

“Now that you and Paul have decided to be more than friends we should double date sometime!” Leah suggested, holding Em’s hand tightly.

“That would be great!” I exclaimed, though I sounded very nervous. Were things moving quickly or was I just not familiar with everything?

Emily and I spent a while talking about the guys we were with. She confessed she thinks Sam would be proposing soon and she couldn’t wait to start planning the wedding. The thought of watching Emily and Sam get married warmed my heart. Being able to be around the two of them and watching be so in love, felt so pure. I knew I was a better person for just being around them.

“Hello, ladies,” Sam opened the front door dramatically when he came in. He took a couple large strides across the room to scoop Emily up into his arms, kissing her. I looked away to give them privacy and saw Paul walk in. He stopped in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest and smiled at me.

“C’mere,” Paul said, nodding his head to signal what he wanted. I scrambled to my feet and walked over to him without hesitation. If we were being honest once I kissed him for the first time I didn’t see how I’d ever be able to stop.

He didn’t waste anytime as he cupped my face and leaned down to press his lips to mine. With my hands on his waist I pushed up on my tip-toes to deepen the kiss. I vaguely heard Leah mumble something about everyone being ‘so gross’ before she brushed passed me and Paul, running into the forest. Paul didn’t stay kissing me for long. He eventually pulled away to press our foreheads together and look into my eyes.

“Missed you today,” Paul whispered to me. I gripped his hand that was cupping my face and pressed harder against his palm. It was silly that I had missed him too. We had only been apart for a few hours, less than if I had gone to school.

“Walk me home? I should catch up on some homework considering I do have to go back to school eventually,” he took my hand and we said a quick goodbye to Sam and Emily. She thanked me for helping her and didn’t let me leave until she had quickly put together my school lunch for tomorrow. She had upgraded me from a plain paper sack to a lunchbox of my favorite color.

Paul and I walked hand in hand through the forest. My body temp has always been higher than a humans from what I had noticed over the years from accidentally touching people at school in the hallways. Paul however burned hotter than I did. I had noticed it before but now that we had been touching more regularly it was very apparent. His hand clasped mine, the heat almost searing my skin.

We came up to the river that separates Forks from La Push, he looked over at me wagging his eyebrows. He stepped back a few paces and then ran forward as fast as he could, launching himself over the river. My stomach flipped in fear, he had never done this in his human form. I was never worried about his wolf form making it over the river but I had no idea how he would make it over as a human.

“Were you worried?” He yelled over to me from the other side of the river. He looked smug as I watched him in awe. He had made it and was able to land gracefully. Frowning at him I took a couple steps back and launched myself over the river like he had. As I flew through the air I knew I had gone further than Paul and began to smirk. I landed then hit a cartwheel just to show off. Putting my hands in the air dramatically when I was done, I spun around to face Paul.

“Show off,” he muttered, shoving me lightly as he passed but still grabbing my hand to hold it. I giggled lightly and gripped his hand in mine, my other hand going to hold the crook of his arm. We walked quietly the rest of the way to my house, it was a comfortable silence.

“Emily told me you’re the best at controlling your phasing,” I started to speak when my questions from earlier popped back into my head. When I looked over at Paul he looked sheepish, like he was embarrassed from the praise.

“Now I am but when this first happened I wasn’t,” Paul explained, sounding like he didn’t want to. We walked in silence for a couple more minutes, our paces slower than a snails.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by bringing it up. I’m half a vampire and I barely know about them and they’re my kind. Finding out people can turn into wolves really turned my world upside down and I was curious about how it all works,” I felt myself starting to feel defensive and on edge. I wasn’t allowed to ask my dad questions and if I did he usually yelled at me for it. Paul wasn’t anything like my dad but I didn’t know anything else.

“I’ll have to bring you to a council meeting sometime so you can hear it from them, I’ve told you a little of what I know about it. It has to do with who are ancestors are,” Paul started, squeezing my hand lightly. He looked serious now, determination clear all over his face. “Everyone that can turn into a wolf now relates back to the original one. Taha Aki, the first shapeshifter in our history. Our main enemies over the years are the same, our legends call them the ‘cold ones’.”

“I’m assuming the ‘cold ones’ are vampires,” I concluded, thinking about how cold my father felt to the touch. Every vampire that I touched was cold like ice, one touch from a human could give away a clue as to what they were.

“You’re right, every time vampires come near us our genes tell us to turn into wolves,” Paul told me, as we walked into my backyard. “I don’t like to take credit for being the best at ‘controlling’ my phasing. We haven’t pinpointed a trigger for it besides the vampires. We don’t phase do to emotions or situations. We phase when we’re happy, mad or sad so none of really know how to stop the phasing. It’s all just luck.”

“Maybe it’s a skill you develop over time,” I suggested, trying to sound hopeful. To this day I hoped that I would show signs of some sort of ability. I had tried for years to force something out of myself. I tried to figure out things I was good at to see if I could practice them enough to where it started to grow and become something beyond the average but nothing ever panned out.

After a while my dad made me give up, his excuse was that I looked stupid trying to force something that wasn’t there. He said I wasn’t special and couldn’t make myself become special no matter how hard I tried.

“I’ll be back later after my patrol,” Paul told me as he walked me up my back steps. I was pulling the back door open when he pulled me into him for a kiss. It was unexpected and left me breathless. He had the same smug look on his face from earlier. He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before letting me go.

“Don’t take too long,” my voice barely above a whisper, with a slight hoarseness to it. He winked at me and sprinted off into the woods, unbuttoning his shorts on the way. I shook the dizziness out of my head and continued into my house.

The paper I was working on practically wrote itself. I had been writing the same paper for my history classes for a few years now. Whenever we were given the opportunity to write about the Civil War I wrote a lengthy essay about the women of the time and how they helped, sometimes more than men, in the war. It was fun to see what men in our history tried to erase and I loved digging up new details about the women.

The sudden ringing startled me as I was typing out my last sentence. My phone had been left back on the kitchen table while I sat at the island working on my paper. It was probably Paul changing plans and sending someone else over to spend the night to make me feel safe. I picked it up without looking.

“Long time no talk,” I joked as I answered. It had only been a couple hours since Paul had dropped me at my house. The other side was silent for a minute. “Anyone there?”

“You skipped school today,” a voice finally came through but it wasn’t Paul. My heart skipped a beat. My whole body broke out into a cold sweat so bad I could feel the beads of sweat pop up all over my skin immediately.

“I-I, uh…”

“I don’t want to hear it. I warned you before I left. I would always know if you stepped out of line and you have. You are walking on thin ice with me now,” he seethed on the other end. I could hear the malice in his voice. It felt like shards of glass were hitting my ears with each word. I couldn’t defend myself, the words were stuck in my throat.

“I have eyes everywhere, Clementine,” he started speaking again. He had eyes everywhere? I spun around anxiously, looking out the doors to the backyard and all the other windows that anyone could see me through.

“I’ve left you speechless now, haven’t I?” he asked, sounding satisfied with my lack of response to anything he said. My body felt like it was vibrating, my legs were weak. I gripped on the kitchen table as my legs started to give out.

“You better start being able to speak because I have a little question for you,” he began. Sitting down at the table, I stayed silent and let him continue. “Did you think I wouldn’t find about your dangerous little dog friends too?”

I froze, my tongue going so dry I thought it would turn to dust. I cleared my throat hoping it would help before I spoke, “What are you talking about?”

“I have a reliable source that says they saw you with them, more than once over the past couple weeks. Did you think you could away with kissing one of those foul beasts?” he explained to me. Someone had been watching me the whole time? Someone had learned the packs secret in the process? My stomach flipped as I thought about how someone had seen Paul and I at the beach, spying on us while we kissed. This was all my fault, I knew something like this would happen if I got too close to anyone. I had never underestimated my dad before and I shouldn’t have this time around either.

“They have just as much of a secret to keep as I do, maybe even more so,” I tried to reason with him. It was foolish to even try but I had to. I was old enough at this point to do things for myself and I had to stand up for myself, no matter who my dad has watching me.

“The more people that know about you the worse off you’ll be. Vampires are curious creatures, they love to check out their own kind from time to time. Sometimes even hunt them for fun. Do you want to be hunted for fun, Clementine?” The second use of my full name alerted me to how serious he was. There would be no reasoning with him now, not that there ever was to begin with.

“No, father,” I muttered quietly, my stomach churning. It didn’t matter how old I got or how far he was from me, I would never be out from under his control. He had never let me go far enough to learn how to be on my own or defend myself.

“I suggest you stop seeing your friends and continue to go to school. You never know the next time someone will be around and see you,” he warned before abruptly ending the conversation. My phone beeped alerting me to the ended call but I sat there with my phone to my ear, frozen in place.

There was a clock hanging on the wall across from me, I could hear each tick the second made as it went by. My phone began to slip from my hand as my muscles went slack. My whole body slumped back and my phone went clattering down to the tabletop.

The only good thing that came from that conversation was the implication that no one was currently watching me. Who would even be helping my father keep an eye on me? He had driven the notion of never getting to know anyone into my brain so much that I thought he had always adhered to the rule himself.

I snapped out of it suddenly, grabbing my phone and typing out a message before my brain could even realize what I was doing. It was a message to Paul, a light and airy feeling one, about how I didn’t need anyone over tonight because I was working on a paper and would be doing so all night. I didn’t bother to wait for a reply, turning my phone off and leaving it upside down on the kitchen table.

We hadn’t unpacked everything when we moved in. Most of our stuff still in boxes around the house. I didn’t know exactly where my father had put the box that held our curtains but I was on a mission to find them. I wouldn’t be letting anyone spend the night here anymore so I would need to make myself feel as safe as possible and I was going to start by having all the windows covered so that no one could see in.

The box wasn’t too hard to find, it was located in the closet under the stairs. Everything I needed was miraculously in it, from the curtains to the curtain rods that held them up. There were so many windows all over my house that I hoped I had enough to cover all of them or I would be limiting where I go when I was home.

It didn’t take long for me to hang up curtains all over my living and in my kitchen. There was nothing I could do about the sliding door, no curtains were big enough so I looked around for a bed sheet big enough to cover it up. I already had my sheets on my bed and my dad wasn’t around to use his, not that he would anyway since he never slept.

With hammer and nails in my hands and a bedsheet in the other hand, I set to work. Standing on different kitchen chairs in the process, I had the bedsheet nailed over the sliding door in no time. Feeling no safer when I was done, I decided to grab my laptop and school work and barricade myself in my room until it was time to go to school in the morning. I reluctantly had to grab my phone and turn it back on just so I could set an alarm in case I somehow was able to fall asleep.

Paul had texted back saying that was fine and wondering if I was sure I didn’t need him. He didn’t express it but I knew he was hurt by me suddenly being cold toward him. We had just gotten to a good place, one I had never been in before and it was ruined. This was my life and I had better learn to just keep my head down and deal with it.

To distract myself from the hole I was on the brink of spiraling down I decided to get my essay back out and begin to pick it apart. My eyes were burning by the time I decided my essay couldn't get any better. The sun had been gone for a while now, the sky completely dark and void of stars. Looking out my window and into the backyard I saw something move beyond the tree line. A shadow too big to be a human or vampire but it was too far away for me to be sure it was one of the wolves. But if it was it was probably Paul checking on me to make sure my father wasn’t home and keeping me from him.

Guilt washed over me as I abruptly shut the curtains and threw myself down on my bed. The blankets were in a pile next to me and I grabbed them, pulling them to me to wrap my body around. I didn’t want to cover up for fear that I would need to get up quickly to defend myself, only to get stuck in the blankets and get killed because of it. I didn’t have much of a say in the matter as my eyes closed and didn’t reopen.

Rap! Rap! Rap! I startled awake at the sudden sound, my feet hitting the floor before my eyes even opened. The pounding sound didn’t stop. As I gained my bearings I realized it was someone knocking on my front door. It couldn’t be anyone I knew because Emily had a key to my house and would give it to anyone she trusted who wanted to come see me.

From the top of my stairs I could see a man with a navy blue hat on standing on my front porch. His whole frame wasn’t visible through the little window on my front door so I couldn’t know where he was from until I went down and greeted him.

“Can I help you?” I asked as the door swung open. His whole uniform matched his hat. The crisp navy blue uniform, was loose on his body. He stood awkwardly on my porch with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.

“I have a delivery for, Clementine Abbott?” It was more of a question than a statement. I nodded at him and he handed me the clipboard to sign my name, stating that I received whatever it was he had brought with him. He uttered a quick thank you and picked up a heavy box from the porch that I hadn't noticed before. It was a white, styrofoam box. The same kind we put blood bags in when my father and I stole them for me.

“This isn’t the only thing,” He gestured my usually empty driveway. There now sitting in the driveway and looking completely out of place was the car I had wanted for a while. It was the newest version of it too. A royal blue, Land Rover Range Rover, sat there looking pristine. The man handed me the keys and an envelope.

“Have a good day,” I muttered, trying to be polite but I was in absolute shock. The envelope was heavy in my hand, somehow even more so than the keys were. I tore it open already knowing who it was from.

Clementine,

This is sort of a peace offering. Peace on the condition that you do as you are told from now on. The car is so that you don’t have to rely on anyone for anything. You have everything you need at the house and you have a credit card to go and buy whatever you should find the need for. The car is now a way for you to get there without running into anyone while you walk to and from.

The blood bags are so that you don’t find yourself thirsty and running into the dogs while in the woods hunting. Remember, I will know if you see them again.

You will see me again very soon. I have run into an old friend and we have something big and exciting planned. You’ll know everything when the time is right.

Hope you just love your new dream car!

Stay Safe,

John Abbott

Him and an old friend had something big and exciting planned? Nothing about this letter sounded good. Each word brought more bile to the back of my throat. Breakfast was now out of the question with the way my stomach felt. With the blood bags stowed away in the fridge and the keys left on the island in the kitchen next to my backpack I went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed for school.

It may be springtime here in Forks but the weather didn’t show it. The window to my bedroom had slight fogging to it, meaning it was a lot colder outside than inside. Slipping a sweater over my head to pair with my jeans I was finally ready to leave for school. Despite everything I was excited to be able to drive at school, especially in the car I had wanted for so many years.

My car stuck out in the school parking lot. Everyone had used cars, years old. I had noticed that even the Cullen’s had a car that blended into the surroundings. The only other car that stuck out like mine did was Bella’s old, rusted, bulbous truck. I parked in a spot that was the closest to the school, I had never driven to school before but I’m sure it was rare that this spot was ever open this late in the morning.

A couple kids were staring as I grabbed my bag and got out of the car. I needed to head to the main office building to print out my paper quickly before going to class. It was due this morning and if I hadn’t spent time procrastinating my skipping school to hang out with Paul I would have already had it done and turned in. This was super last minute for me and I usually never did this. If my dad found out I was turning my paper in the last minute he would say it was late even though it was right on time.

There was no one in the main office that I could see but I could hear the principal and secretary somewhere chatting. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, it was an office but it felt comfortable. Without bothering them I went to the computer and signed in to print out what I needed.

The task didn’t take as long as I thought it would so I went back to my car with my papers. The Cullen’s had now arrived. Bella had gotten out of her truck and was now standing with the two vampires at their car, chatting quietly while eyeing me in my car. I looked away from them and put my papers away.

It wasn’t surprising to me when I heard a soft knock on my passenger side door. When I looked up I saw Alice. She waved at me, looking sheepish. My lips pursed but didn’t go into a full pout. There was no getting out of this so I clicked the unlock button to let her in. She slid in gracefully and let out a long sigh.

“I’m really sorry for what happened the other day,” she started, turning her tiny body to look into my eyes. Her tiny, cold hands reached out and grabbed mine. She clasped them tightly as if to emphasize how serious she was.

“I can be a lot and most people don’t really like that. My siblings however are usually the quiet brooding types so I didn’t see the outburst coming,” she looked genuinely upset. I knew from what I heard the other day that she could see the future, which made me wonder how she didn’t know what I was. Or maybe I was going to be able to keep my secret forever and they’ll never find out?

“It’s fine, this whole town seems to act weird when new people show up,” I wasn’t going to drag this on. She needed me to accept her apology to get her to leave me alone. She seemed to agree with me as she nodded slightly and leaned back in the seat.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her eyes were locked with mine. She was probably noticing how tired I looked. Or maybe it was the fear I had that showed all over my face. Was someone watching me interact with her? Would my dad call again threatening me to not talk to the towns vampires? Or would his friend show themselves to tell me to stop in person?

“I haven’t been sleeping that well,” I muttered back to her. It wasn’t technically a lie, I was scared of being alone in my house and I was scared that my dad would show back up soon. I had a lot on my mind that wasn’t letting me have the peace of mind I needed to sleep. She seemed to believe me and leaned back in her seat looking around my car.

“I love your new car by the way. With your taste you’d really get along with my family. We may take a bland car to come to school but we have a whole garage of fancy ones,” she seemed excited now. Her eyes went somewhere for a second, like she was seeing something I wasn’t. She looked very worried for a minute but then shook it off with a laugh.

“Are you graduating this year? I know you have a couple classes with Edward and Bella but you could just be advanced,” she asked. Where could this be going? I thought once I told her I wasn’t bothered by what happened the other that she would leave me alone but it wasn’t turning out to be like that.

“You guessed it, I’m a genius. I’ll graduate next year hopefully early so I can start some college,” and hopefully get the hell out of this town. After the stunt I pulled my dad probably wouldn’t argue if I asked to move after this school year. Hopefully whatever him and his friend were planning it would be over in time.

“Would you like to come to the graduation party I’m planning anyway? You said you wanted to graduate early so you won’t get one if you do that! Edward and I really want you to know how sorry we are for the other day and what better way to show you than a party in a mansion!” she was easily excited. Her cheerful voice filled the car as she spoke. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she waited for me with her hands now clasped under her chin no longer holding my hands.

“Oh, I don’t know…” the look on her face told me it wasn’t optional. It was clear that she wouldn’t leave me alone until I said yes. I leaned back in my seat, feeling defeated. If my dad found out he would be furious but what teenager says no to a party? The Cullen’s clearly knew how to dig into someones life and would surely nose around more if I was acting like anything but a normal teenage girl.

“Yay! This is so exciting!” Alice squealed, bouncing around in her seat. She settled down after a second and looked me over. “I think I know your size so I’ll send you something to wear to it! You’ll love it!”

“You don’t have t-” she was gone, the door clicked shut behind her. She was already standing back with Bella and Edward before I could even process the door shutting. Edward looked displeased at what she was telling him, probably about how she invited me to the party. Bella looked uneasy and I could hear her mumble something about them ‘being tricked by them’. Whoever ‘they’ were worried me a little bit. Bella seemed really scared about whoever they were, scared to the point of some new kid in town being a potential threat.

All the students in the parking lot eventually made their way to their classes. I followed only after the three people I didn’t want to interact with again had disappeared to wherever they needed to. The gloom from over night had stayed, low rumbling thunder sounded in the distance. The rain was staying away, for now, as I made my way to my first class.

I turned in my paper as soon as I got there and the teacher read it while he played a video for us. It was over the Civil War and turned out to be very boring. If I hadn’t slept at all last night I’d be a goner as the black and white pictures flashed, dully on the small tv screen at the front of the class. Much to my mortification he read my paper during class and stopped the video before it was over to make me read my paper to the entire class.

Everyone stared at me as I stammered through the words. The teacher applauded when I was finished and bragged to the class that he hadn’t read a paper ‘this good in years’.He wanted to keep it and hang it on his wall if that would be alright with me. I just wanted everything to be over so I told him it was alright and practically ran back to my seat.

The rest of the morning went quickly, as usual. I kept under the radar for it, not wanting to risk reliving my first period of the day. My lunch sat on the table in front of me as I sat in the cafeteria. I was alone today, thankfully, and could eat in peace without having to storm out at any point.

Alice, Edward and Bella were all sitting with the group of people they had been with the first time I saw any of them. Alice was inviting them to the party too. Everyone seemed shocked by the invite and one girl even exclaimed that ‘no one has ever seen their house’. Alice seemed to ignore that and her eyes went somewhere again, I was guessing the same place they had gone when she was in my car. Edward looked concerned in the worst way. His eyes became scared even though he was trying to hide it and he subconsciously put his hand on Bella’s. The small action took some fear out of his eyes and he tried his best to shrug it off and look normal.

Lunch was over in what felt like a matter of minutes and I was walking back to class when I overheard Alice and Edward whispering anxiously to each other. Bella was nowhere to be seen so it seemed like they were keeping something from her. They were stopped just outside a classroom, so I stopped behind a tall bush and pretended to be on my phone as I eavesdropped.

“My vision was clear, she’s coming this weekend,” Alice whispered, she sounded more determined than scared.

“We have to get Bella out of here for the weekend. I’ll remind her of the place tickets Esme and Carlisle got her for her birthday, maybe she’ll actually listen to me for once and go visit her mom,” Edward suggested, he didn’t sound determined. He sounded completely wrecked at even the thought of Bella not listening and being here for whoever was coming this weekend.

“She’ll go I can see it but she’s going to ask you to come along. You should go, we can handle Victoria without you,” Alice assured him. My heart seized in my chest at her name. The pack hadn’t seen or caught her scent in a couple weeks, they thought she had finally given up and moved on. They needed to know she was coming back, they needed to prepare.

There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to risk it all and go warn them about it. I had no idea what my father would do if he found out about me seeing the wolves again but I didn’t matter when it came down to every life in the packs and the lives of those involved. Hell, I would probably even join in and help them catch this dangerous, red-headed vampire.

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote fic #sam uley #jacob black #quil ateara #embry call #seth clearwater #leah clearwater #jared cameron #emily young #alice cullen #edward cullen #bella swan

59 notes · View notes

losersclubimagines · 5 years ago

Text

the coroner’s girl

[the losers club x reader]

warnings: swearing, bullying, blood and body parts.

summary: being the coroner’s daughter means dressing practically rather than flatteringly, carrying your father’s blood samples in your schoolbag, and having maybe too much of an avid interest in human anatomy for your classmates’ tates. you’re an outcast - a loser, something you had always been and been pretty okay with, until the last day of school in 1985, when greta bowie gets a little too familiar with the things you carry in your backpack.

request here

Being a coroner's daughter was never going to be easy.

It was like being the daughter of the exterminator that came to rid your school of rats or termites; nothing inherently bad about it - it was an honest profession, all right - but goddamn embarrassing.

But you knew that. You'd known that since second grade when the teacher said your class had to go around the circle and everybody said what their parents did for a living. There were four temps, one dentist, one taxi driver, a receptionist and a cashier before you proudly said, "my dad examines dead people to see how they died!"

Your teacher had thought it was interesting. Your classmates, not so much. They thought you were dirty. Most of them didn't touch you, if they could help it. You had your own special brand of cooties, creatively named 'The Y/n Touch" that the others would pass and tease each other with at recess and lunch in games you couldn't participate in. Well, fine. They'd decided you were to be an outcast, you'd do just that.

You stopped really trying in third grade. Stopped putting your hair in curlers every night and teasing it with hairspray every morning like the others, stopped dressing fashionably and started dressing practically, stopped trying to fit in at all. A lot of girls talked about lipstick or boys or singers, or else music you'd never heard of and movies you'd never watched. The boys talked about girls and soccer and bikes, or else books you'd never read or bands you'd never listened to. You didn't fit in with anyone else's conversation - you knew hearts and brains and lungs, vessels and arteries and veins, homeostasis and rigor mortis and symptoms of asphyxiation. But when you tried to talk about that, all you got was disgusted or scandalised looks, so you stopped. You kept to yourself.

All through third grade to eighth grade, the closest thing you had to a friend were our various biology teachers throughout the years. You were hopeless at the other sciences, barely passing, and mediocre at everything else, but your biology always came back with a fat shiny A on every report card.

It was the last day of school before summer in 1985. Before you'd gone to school, your dad had passed you three plastic sample jars, half-full of blood. At your raised eyebrows, he grew defensive.

"The refrigerator's stocked again!"

"Maybe it wouldn't be if you did your job like every other coroner in America and stopped-"

"Yes, I know, I know," he interrupted, looking badgered. "Can you just ask your friend in the prep room to store them, just for a day? I'll have the refrigerator cleared out by then."

"Fine." You checked the lids were done up tightly then stuffed the jars in your satchel. "Can I go now?"

"Yeah, go, you'll be late. Don't go throwing your bag around now, those jars are done up tight but they'll burst with pressure."

"Got it," you called, moving to the front door.

"In the fridge as soon as you get to school!" he shouted from the cellar. "As soon as!"

You shut the door in reply, disgruntled.

You did as bid, making your way to the science prep room before class and sweet-talking Mr Keary into letting you store the samples in the huge refrigerator. They kept the stuff used for dissecting in there - sheep hearts and frogs and pig brains. Needless to say, you'd aced that particular section of biology. A scalpel was so familiar in your hand by now, it felt like an extension of your fingers.

They stayed there throughout the day. It grew hotter and hotter, but you kept all your layers on - black jeans cuffed to keep them from trailing on your battered sneakers, a charcoal-grey shirt of your father's that hung to your thighs and a soft, woolly, dark green cardigan that swung about your calves. You liked the comfort that layers of clothes gave you - like wearing multiple plates of armour. The day passed as usual - you ad no biology class, so you spoke to barely anyone and barely anyone spoke to you, you kept your head down and ate lunch alone and doodled in every class until the final bell rang. Great. Okay. Finally.

You swung by the prep room and grabbed your father's samples, placing them carefully in your backpack, ensuring they were cushioned by your pencil case and textbooks before hefting the bag onto one shoulder and making the trek to the front exit.

You were literally twenty feet from the door when it happened.

Greta Bowie stormed out of her history class with a dark expression on her face, evidently having to be held back to be lectured by her teacher. Her mean eyes flickered over the corridor for someone to take her anger out on, and, most unfortunately, they landed on you. You didn't even notice her until her shoulder collided hard with yours, and your bag slipped from your shoulder and sailed through the air, hitting the linoleum hard and skidding away. As you stumbled, Greta hooked an ankle around your's and sent you flying backwards.

"Sorry, Y/n!" she called, sweet as sugar. Sweet as fucking diabetes, you thought to yourself furiously as you reached for your bag - only to draw back in surprise and dread. A large, dark, sticky stain was spreading rapidly through the fabric. You tore your bag open, pleading with God that it wasn't so - but of course it was. The samples your dad had entrusted you with, that you'd chilled all day and packed so carefully in your bag - had burst on impact, and now two were all but empty, and the third was drooling blood slowly, it'd lid knocked to the side rather than all the way off.

"Shit!" you shouted, jumping up, your hands flying to your hair to grab it in despair. "Fuck it all, shit on it you bitch!" Before you even realised what you were doing, you'd lunged at the retreating Greta and shoved her in the back. Hard. So hard she flew into the lockers and slammed her head on the metal.

She yelled in pain, spinning round to look at you. The whole corridor was raptly focused on the two of you, Greta furious and red-faced, a bleeding split on her forehead where she'd grazed a padlock, and you, realising what you'd just done with your eyes widening and your feet beginning to retreat.

"You are so fucking dead!"

Greta ran right at you, her arms catching you in the midriff and knocking you back several paces. You gasped as your back slammed into the floor, hard, and Greta seized a handful of your hair, yanked your head up, and slammed it back down again. You wheezed and whimpered, trying to push and scratch to no avail, and Greta straddled you, her fist raised, ready to punch-

Your left hand closed over something cylindrical, smooth and vaguely wet and warm. As quick as you could, even as Greta drew back her fist, you whipped the lid off the last jar of blood, brought it out from the depths of your bag and tossed what was left of the sample square into Greta's snarling face.

She shrieked like a banshee, rearing back and gagging, and you took the opportunity to throw her off your body. You sprang to your feet, stumbling only a little as Greta retched and choked, groping for you blindly with red in her eyes. You took of running, pausing only to pick up your soaking red bag on the way, slamming through the double-doors at the end of the corridor.

You jumped down the steps double-time, jumping at the end and staggering as you hit the floor, then you ran again. In your haste you charged straight through a group of four boys making their way leisurely down the path. You knocked into two of them heavily, felt them stagger.

"What the fuck, dude?" someone called after you furiously, and you turned your head, still running, to look back at them.

"Sorry!" you yelled hoarsely, tearing out the front gate and out of sight.

"Fuckin' weirdo," mumbled Richie Tozier to Bill Denbrough, who was bending down to help Eddie stand after that girl had barged into them. Richie hauled Stan, who had also fallen, to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder, before picking something up off the ground.

"Stan my man, you dropped your yokefellow!" Richie told Stan cheerfully, holding a brimless cap up with a flourish.

"Yarmulke," Stan corrected tiredly, snatching it back.

"Bless you."

"E-Eddie, I think that g-g-girl left a suh-suh-stain on your sh-shirt just now," Bill interrupted demurely.

"Is that fucking blood?" Eddie squeaked, his eyes widening in horror.

"What the fuh-fuh-fuck?" Bill laughed.

"Maybe it was that time of the month," Richie said wisely.

"Buh-beep beep, Richie."

Richie looked seriously at Eddie, who was frantically scrubbing at the dark red patch on his perfect pink shirt. "Werewolves," he told the littler boy sagely.

"Shut up, Richie!" all three of the boys said together, as they crossed through the front gate, making for the Barrens.

——

a/n: just a lil something to get my creativity going while i work on requests. let me know if you want to be tagged in coming parts!! i’m thinking there will be at least two more <3

161 notes · View notes

ocsxinxpurgatory · 4 years ago

Text

Falling Apart (Riker Ascott)

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: Riker, Earl, and anyone you don’t recognize belong to me as does the plot while everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Setting: Season 1 compliant

Pairing: None (past mentioned poly-ship)

Rating: PG-13 for themes

Everyone has their breaking point even someone as stubborn as Riker. It was only a matter of time before his past spilled out of him with all the poison that was still burning through him. Unsurprisingly it’s Earl who lends his ear as he did with so many of Purgatory’s hurting coyotes....

*~*~*~*~*~*

Falling Apart

It was crisp and cold; the kind of weather that had one's breath visible were it not night and pitch black save for the stars. The thin gloves and threadbare coat barely keep the chill from sinking into his skin even though it would take time for it to effect him. The curse was good in that way at least.

His body still shivers as it knows without a doubt that he should not be out here staring into the distance like this when his trailer was nice and warm and safe. His body might understand it but his mind was a darker, colder place and he needed the bite of the cold to try and mitigate the way he was feeling.

He wishes he could forget.

Snow crunches behind him signaling what he should have been more aware of a while ago before would come, “You trying to make yourself into a very unattractive ice sculpture, Riker?”

“No.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Taking a refreshing stroll in the dark,” he retorts caustically, “What business is it of yours?”

“You and I both know who makes it his business to know the comings and goings on here. And wandering around in sub temps is not a smart idea even for us Revenants. You'll still come down sick.”

“Well, it won't be anyone's but my own fault,” he counters that feeling of frustration filling him that no one could mind their own goddamn business. So of course it has him stalking further into the park boots crunching through the snow as he makes his way away from the other.

Of course it's not long before he finds himself out by the picnic tables which are still half-buried thanks to this last round of winter weather and he brings a mitten through the snow on one of the bench clearing it as much as he can before tugging his jacket down far enough to sit without getting his pants soaked. At least not immediately. He closes his eyes again trying to rein in the urge to scream in frustration and anger; emotions bottled up for too long and too hard were all fighting for an outlet he had yet to be able to give them.

Unfortunately, the more frustrated he feels the more he feels the curse and the heat pulsates in his head by the mark making him groan softly before resting his elbows into the snow covered table and leaning his face into his hands. Soon, he has it pressed against the table in the snow and inwardly grimaces at the hissing noise as the snow melts immediately upon contact. Thankfully, though, shifting around and pressing against a few more spots has his skin cooling enough that it stops hurting quite so much and he just rests himself in the cold wetness deciding it was just more comfortable to do this than move.

A cold lethargy has overtaken him before he realizes the dangers posed even to a demon and cannot pull himself up enough to even try to correct the issue. Part of him wonders if it wasn't the price one paid; to end up going into shock and then being frozen until someone came down there or it thawed.

It was shitty but...

He isn't given the chance to come to whatever mental conclusion he might have as he feels himself jerked right off the table a guttural snarl coming from whoever had him. He's just too cold and too tired to even bother figuring it out. Later, his foggy mind chooses, later he'd be concerned.

Unconsciousness takes him not long after that.

*~*~*~*

Coming to is harder as his limbs feel heavy and it takes him a bit to realize he's under a large amount of blankets. Slowly, he shifts and stretches his body out. “Oh, so you're finally awake,” comes the unamused tone of one Bobo Del Rey, “Fantastic. It only took about a week after your idiotic choice to try and sleep out on the picnic tables.”

He goes still. “A-a...week?” he croaks out.

“Yeah, dumbass. You've been in and out of consciousness and feverish for a week. Congrats on that by the way. You managed to really outdo yourself on the obnoxious scale this time, Ascott. I thought we got passed you being a pain in my ass.”

He sighs softly before slowly uncovering his head so he can gaze at the male through tangled strands of black hair. “Contrary to belief, Bobo Del Rey, this was not an attempt to annoy you. I needed some air and my damn curse mark decided to act up.”

“Well that's what happens when you don't properly regulate your more angry and bitter emotions, moron. I've told you this. Your mark gets hotter the angrier and more hateful you get. You keep stuff bottled up so much I'm surprised you haven't lit yourself on fire.”

“Only Axel is capable of that without it doing harm to him so I'm going to avoid it if at all possible,” Riker replies, “As for bottling things up...that's just how I handle things.”

“Well, then find a better way to do it. I don't care what coping mechanism you use so long as it doesn't involve me playing nursemaid because that's not my job and I will toss your goddamn carcass back over the line. We've talked about this.”

Riker wants to be sullen and snarky in return but it had never served him well so he manages a quiet, “Yes, I got it. I'll work on it.”

“You better because I am not kidding, Ascott.”

No, Riker is sure he's not.

It takes a few more days before he feels good enough to try and be sociable and by then he's sure everyone's heard. The teasing gets very old, very fast. But he allows it not wanting another conversation with Bobo Del Rey that will no doubt go bad. Both of them are still very aware of the paint incident and the words exchanged between them. There was no need to push any further.

He's at the benches, cleared and dry this time, with a cup of hot chocolate when he hears, “You know, he gets grumpiest when he cares don't you?” Earl's voice is quiet but still fills the area despite that fact.

“Suppose it's crossed my mind,” he agrees, “but he's still nosier than a man should be.”

“Have you seen most of the idiots he deals with? He just likes to get a feel for the men around him and what might keep them from going off the rails. That's all.”

A sigh escapes him. “It's not...it's not as cut and dry as that and you know it. You give a man that much ammunition and good intentions or not he's still got a loaded gun where you are concerned. I don't...I don't trust it.”

“Problem is, son, you don't trust anyone. And that tells enough.”

Riker looks away a moment, breath leaving in a wisp before sighing softly. “Of course it does. But then...if I don't trust anyone it means no one has the means by which to hurt me and that suits me just fine. Better even.”

“Because it was betrayal that ended your life.”

It wasn't a question which makes it so much worse because as Riker had found; Earl Slater was an astute bastard. Give even a little bit and he could make a few very educated guesses in the absolute correct direction. “If it was, it's not to be repeated. Ever.” A flare of anger and he winces slightly.

“Uh huh, except it's gonna keep punishing you over and over until you get it out of your system. It's how this curse works. It's also why he warned you to talk about it. The more you keep that seething rage just under the surface; the more of you that's going to be lost. And honestly, I don't think whoever did this to you is worth losing yourself over.”

“I loved them.” The words escape like choking on glass, “I would have died for them. And they never fucking cared. Not one bit.” His eyes burn at the feeling twisting like a sharp curved blade.

“Tell me about it. Just me. And you know nothing between us goes anywhere. You've learned that much about this place, I am sure.”

That was the one truth he had come to learn; confidences with Earl were sacrosanct and he would not divulge them. He still can't help the pleading, “Do you promise? Not even to Del Rey?”

“Not a chance, Riker. This is between you and me. Most I'll tell him is that he has no reason to worry about you. That's all he needs. Affirmation. But you need an ear and some support. So let me do that much, kiddo.”

He curls his fingers tightly around the cup pressing it against his lips as he considers all his years of running and avoiding almost everything. And how much it had not helped anything. At all. Maybe it was time to let someone else help with what followed him like the worst sort of shadow.

“I'm sure,” he finally says quietly, “that you've heard what my death sentence was given over. Everyone else has and Revs like to gossip.”

“Suppose I have heard a thing or two,” Earl murmurs, “because you are right; you all can be a nosy, gossipy lot.”

“It was all the same situation,” he admits after a moment, “Three death sentences all in one night and a couple of acts of passion.” He sets the cup down. “The murder charge, which is what always gets the most attention, has never been gotten close to being correct though. I was with a man that night and a woman. Neither of them died though.” Something twists harder in him. “I wish it was a cut and dry as that. It would have been easier to swallow but...” He was babbling, he realizes and he takes a slow breath, “Let me go back a ways because I know I'm not making any sense.

God was the cornerstone of my family, you see. God and the church. My father was friends with the local pastor in the area; they grew up together with the same religious upbringing. As did all the people around us. God was the head of the family and the man was his right-hand. Puritans at their most fanatical. My mother was the perfect and obedient house-wife and taught my brother, my sister, and me to be pure and god-fearing.” He has to pause and laugh bitterly as he sets the cup down. “Let's be clear that I don't particularly feel one way or another about someone else's religion so long as they don't shove it at me. Living in my house was a nightmare as I could not wrap my mind around why such a being deserved anything remotely close to worship when he was so judgmental and choosy about who he favored. All the hoop-jumping bothered me to a steadily rising degree. I just learned early on that I was not going to get anywhere asking my questions.

At about thirteen there were a few new families joining the community and I had the low but inextinguishable hope that maybe, just maybe I might have the chance at normal level-headed friends. Even though I knew they belonged to our faith. I was stupid and naive and needed community. I've come to the conclusion that's the one thing about being human; our need for community and connections.

And this is when I met Lydia and Titus. They were my age from affluent families. We hit it off right away. By the time I was fifteen we were an inseparable trio and were always together. We collectively agreed that our parents were idiots but we knew better than to say that to them and instead kept our own counsel on what we truly thought.

I thought I found what I'd been wishing for and it was liberating.”

He has to pause his jaw tightening. The feel of a hand on his shoulder has his breath coming in a ragged sound. “I should have known something was up. I should have known that it was too convenient.”

“Riker...”

He squeezes his eyes shut. “We were eighteen when I admitted having more than a passing fondness. For both of them. I was afraid that I was going to lose the two most important people in my life. I loved them despite knowing how dangerous it was in a time like that. But when they didn't turn away in disgust when they told me that they were relieved that I felt the same...I knew I would die to protect them.

We were happy for the next couple of years. Or at least...” Grief fills his voice and he swallows a few times. “I was stupid then. So stupid. I didn't see the signs that I see now clear as day.”

“Lovin' someone, lovin' anyone is not something that makes you stupid,” Earl says voice kind, gentle even, “There was nothin' wrong with how you felt.”

Gray eyes fill with anger and resentment red swirling in their depths as the demon rears it's ugly head. “Except,” comes the guttural retort, “When I was twenty-one I learned better. I learned it was a set-up. The whole thing. Them. Their feelings. Everything.” He watches Earl's eyes widen a moment and laughs bitterly. “Oh yes, they were from my church. My father got in touch with some of his old friends worried that I was going down “dark paths” and needed to be looked after. So they were told to befriend me. Eventually tempt me and see what I was truly made of. To keep up the charade until they knew for sure. Until it was too late. There we were, entangled in bed and my father, their parents, and the good reverend come in. To a space we'd made fr ourselves that I thought wasn't known to anyone else. I was charged with buggery, sodomy, and murder. What they didn't bother telling the good Marshals who would eventually hunt me down three months later was that the murder charge was over me. That my choices would no doubt send me to hell. Because suicide wasn't something they could pin on me still being alive.” He carefully sets the mug down too afraid with his shaking hands and all he was feeling that he would break it either by dropping it, squeezing it too hard, or hurling it at something. “So there you have it,” comes his quiet, broken tone, “I was set up by my community using people I honestly loved and who I thought loved me. Who I connected with. So no, no I do not and will not trust someone else. Not ever. Not for any reason. I just want to wait out this goddamn curse so that I don't go to hell again. That's all. That's it.”

The wetness isn't helped by the cold and that tightened feeling is worse now, his breathing sharp and uneven. Decades later it was still a festering, bleeding wound. Hell had made it worse. He relieved that reveal over and over and over. Nothing else hurt as much as the knowledge that he'd never been wanted or loved in the first place. That how he felt at thirteen had been a game played by a fanatical group of individuals who didn't trust their own community because he was sure they knew how wrong their views were in ways. How damaging.

But people liked to be in control didn't they?

A hand presses lightly between his shoulder blades and he feels himself go tense before uttering a weak, “D-don't...Earl...”

Of course it's not listened to and he finds himself lightly tugged back and tucked against the other as his breathing sharpens further and a choked sound escapes; something ragged and whining and hurt from deep in him. Fingers slowly move to thread through long black strands. “That's it, kiddo,” comes the low murmur, “Let it out. You've been wronged so much, Riker. And you didn't deserve it. Problem is that for some of us; there was no justice to be had in all of it. Men can be stupid about things they do not agree with and that is no fault of yours.”

He's not sure what sort of sight he has to make sobbing brokenly as he does but there is that moment of relief when the pressure in him recedes somewhat. It wasn't a magical fix by any means but there is a freedom to letting someone else know, letting someone else see the jagged, broken parts. And Earl, bless his demonic-self, just holds him, fingers gently carding through his hair murmuring soothingly to him.

It's as he's drowsy and feeling his eyes slowly close that he wonders if there was a Revenant there who hadn't been here trying to reclaim themselves. Lethargy fills him and he hears a quiet, “I've got you, kiddo. Rest. I'll handle the others over this. You'll find yourself again, Riker. You will.”

Something in him; that small smoldered flicker of want for something for himself sends a bit of smoke into the night. A whispered promise. You will get through this.

#Wearp OC: Riker Ascott #Riker Ascott Drabble #Polyamory tw

1 note · View note

volcanofandom · 6 years ago

Text

CAN YOU WALK ON LAVA?

By Erik Klemetti Posted 01/12/12 on Science

The lava lake at Puʻu ʻŌʻō crater on Kilauea in early March, 2011 (image courtesy of the USGS/HVO). Care to take a stroll across it?

THE RESPONSE TO my post about what might happen, contrary to Hollywood's vision, if you fell into lava was, to say the least, amazing. Thanks for everyone who has read the original so far. I have gotten a lot of comments about that post, so I'm trying to respond to some of them (sorry if I didn't pick yours) to tackle some of the current questions and criticisms for my analysis – the idea that you aren't to likely to quickly sink into the lava lake, but rather burn yourself to a crisp like a hush puppy in hot oil (well, a hush puppy in molten iron). So, enjoy this followup and see what I suggest as some of the best ways to navigate a lava flow.

Paul: In another stupid disaster movie, sweaty survivors cross over a pond of lava on a horizontal fire truck ladder. In reality, the radiant heat would cause clothes and skin to burst into flame within seconds, even at a distance (incident infrared radiation would be the same at 20 ft as at 1 ft.). And the aluminum ladder would sag very quickly.

Me (Erik): That is one of the many aspects of *Volcano *that bother me – you know, other than a scoria cone erupting from the La Brea tar pits. I think to most people, the heat from a lava flow is the same as the heat from your oven. However, most ovens get to 525°F / 273°C on broil, so the average basaltic lava flow as shown in Volcano would be about four to five times hotter.

Cory: Consider, a body (of a certain weight) falling from a substantial height into a pool of lava that is of a certain variable viscosity—differing at different depths, AND flowing with underlying current. A body might then penetrate the surface to some necessary extent, and be pulled under by strong currents of high-viscosity molten rock flowing below. True, a body is not necessarily ‘sinking’ as is more familiar to us in our ‘normal experience’ (considering only the relative densities of a ‘still’ fluid and an object), however, the hapless Gollum (or, some other body) may, nevertheless, be observed ‘sinking’ into the lava after striking the surface.

Me (Erik): Cory has an interesting point – if there were active currents in the lava flow (see below), you could get “pulled in” as if you fell into a flowing river. However, the viscosity and density differences would still not allow you to sink. It would be like a stick on a stream – even when caught in the current, the stick wants to float rather than get entrained.

How about surfing a lava flow? We haven't talked about that yet?

Bob: Sadly - you've got something else wrong. At those temperatures, you wouldn't burst into flames. Considering the human body is made up of 80% water, the portions of your body that come in contact with the lava would generate huge amounts of steam, which would likely have sufficient pressure to blow you up off of the surface (at those temps the transformation of water to steam will expand by a volumetric factor in the thousands almost instantly).

I work in the metals industry, and the fear of steam explosions is a constant. At our facility, well before things like OSHA were around to keep everyone safe, an individual fell into a furnace three feet deep, full of molten aluminum (roughly 760°C). He was blown back out of the furnace, and actually died from the impact of that as opposed to anything else.

Me (Erik): I think the key limitation here is how that steam would escape – remember, all that water is conveniently kept in a sack of skin, so first you’d have to get that steam out of that sack. I think I’ll leave it at that. However, Bob's story does seem to lend credence to the idea that the steam could pop you right back off the lava.

Paul: But isn't that assuming he just sort of walks off the edge and it's right under him? After watching the video of the film on YouTube, I count that he falls for seven seconds. While I don't know offhand if that would allow for him to reach terminal velocity, would not the velocity of his fall, in effect, ADD something to his weight (at least in terms of downward acceleration) for the purposes of penetrating the viscosity resistance of the lava below? Assuming that Middle Earth has a similar gravity to the Earth, the downward acceleration of 9.81 m/s, at 7 seconds, would result in Gollum hitting the lava with a velocity of 68.67 m/s - surely that would affect how he hits the lava (or would it still be magma, as it is still technically in the earth and not on the surface)?

Marc: I realize this entire post is satirical, but if I were to jump into lava and land on my feet, my entire weight would be applied over about 1/2 sq ft. My density wouldn't be at issue, but instead the pressure I'm applying to the lava would. Granted I might not sink, but I might end up without the lower part of my legs.

Me (Erik): This is one thing I didn’t fully tackle in the original. However, think about jumping into the water from a diving board. You penetrate the surface but are usually forced back to it by your buoyancy relative to water. Water is much less viscous than lava, so it would be much easier to penetrate the surface and sink in by some depth, so if you fell the same way into lava, you wouldn’t penetrate nearly as deep. However, it would take much longer to rise back (likely longer than it would take to burn you to embers) due to that increased viscosity of lava as well.

Boris: I picked a huge chunk of dense, cold lava from the surface - it weighed a good 20 kilos - and threw it through the skylight onto the bright golden-yellow lava surface, where it impacted without creating the least bit of a dent, but rather burst into numerous pieces. If I had thrown a human being instead of that large rock, probably that unfortunate person would have burst into flame and largely evaporated before touching the lava surface. You get an idea about the heat in such environments when standing on the rim of a skylight over a lava tube - if you stand on the wrong (downwind) side, you will soon feel how your eyelashes, eyebrows and hair are seared by the heat.

In contrast, at Kilauea there are documented cases of people sinking into small pahoehoe lava flows. One of them was familiar with Etna's more viscous lavas and believed he could likewise step onto a Hawaiian lava flow, which resulted in him breaking through the crust covering the lava, and his trousers catching fire. That was very painful, and an even worse incident happened to an American volcanologist in 1985, who somehow came to SIT on an active pahoehoe lobe and slowly his legs began to sink into it, while he frantically tried to push the incandescent lava from his legs with his NAKED HANDS. So, no doubt, you can sink into a Hawaiian (tholeiitic basaltic) lava flow, and since the lavas of Erta-Ale and Nyiragongo are very similar (the latter volcanoes are still more fluid), I guess you would easily sink into those lavas, too. Unless, of course, these lavas occur in the form of lava lakes, where you'd presumably evaporate practically in the same instant you step on the lava surface.

Ed K: I think the alkalic lava at Nyiragongo probably behaves more like the stereotypical Hollywood lava.

Me (Erik): Boris has another good, first-hand account of throwing something in lava – if a rock doesn’t penetrate the surface of a flow, then the likelihood of a person to do so, even if they fell from a great height, seems unlikely. The story from Hawai’i, however, does show you can slowly sink into a lava flow – and, as Boris and Ed point out, certain lava types, such as the alkaline basalts of Erta’Ale, might make sinking easier because of their lower viscosity. Alkaline basalts are called that because they contain, proportionally, more sodium and potassium (alkaline elements) than other lavas. This extra Na and K breaks up the bonds between silicon and oxygen, lowering the viscosity of the magma. If you really wanted to have the best chance of sinking to your fate in lava, try to super-odd carbonitite lavas of Oldoinyo Lengai in Tanzania.

JayS: So, with the right shoes, you could run over lava?

Me (Erik): I thought about this some and, in theory, I would say the answer is “yes”. You’d need something like snow shoes, except instead of a mesh you have a sole of some heat resistant material. You don’t want to use anything that will transfer heat, so maybe the best bet would be asbestos – probably at least 25 cm thick. You’d want the soles to be big so they can block some of the radiant heat from the lava and you’d need to wear a heat-resistant suit (see right) as well. And you’d need to walk reeeeal slowly because falling down is not an option. The biggest issue would be that as you walk, you will sink a little into the lava and the viscosity of the lava means you will “go with the flow.” Most molten lava at the surface has some flow to it, even in a lava lake, as the hot lava churns, so the closest equivalent to this might be trying to walk across moving ice. Except you stick to the ice. And you’ll burn to a crisp if you lose your balance. So, possible “maybe” but I wouldn’t want to be on the Japanese gameshow that makes you try this out.

Claude G: Two [of them] got serious burns in Iceland and New Zealand as the crust broke under their feet on a geothermal field. The other two got much more serious burns on Lengai and Kilauea (Boris knows one of them) when a lava tube broke under the weight of their bodies. Contrary to what many people think, it would be a great mistake to walk on a lava field on Kilauea wearing fireproof boots. As long as you can bear the heat, it means lava is strong enough for you to walk on it. If your shoes start taking fire, just move away!

Me (Erik): More evidence that walking on lava might be feasible, but not recommended. I imagine more people have accidentally ended up in thin lava flows and live to tell the tale. Oddly, I don't know if I've ever seen anything about someone falling into a lava lake and dying – at least with anyone around to tell the tale.

RP Bird: Here is Gollum's death from Return: "...and then with a shriek he fell. Out of the depths came his last wail Precious, and he was gone."

Me (Erik): I can handle the questions of magma, but my Tolkien knowledge isn’t as sharp.

Greeble: I have personally walked on VERY slow moving lava at Kileua in nothing more than tennis shoes! I only did it for about 15-20 seconds, and it damaged the shoes, but I didn't sink in the least bit. A local did it first, and then I had to try it as well. As the local said, "Dude, it's rock. It's just really HOT rock. Would you sink into a bucket of gravel?"

Me (Erik): It sounds like here you were walking on A’a lava instead of pahoehoe, which is what is normally pictured in Hollywood films. A’a is cooler and slower moving, almost like a pile of hot rubble moving like a tractor-tread. That should be a lot easier to walk across than the less viscous pahoehoe lava.

214Jim: If the lava is outgassing, the gasses dispersed therein would make its density considerably lower, allowing a body to sink below the lava's surface. E.g., a ship attempting to sail through subsurface gas vent of sufficient size would promptly sink as though someone had yanked the rug from under it. (Yes, this has happened in the offshore oil industry.) But it's possible that the intense heat would cause a falling body to reach combustion temperature before it even reached the lava.

Me (Erik): This is an interesting idea – the viscosity of a magma will go down with increased volatile (mostly water vapor and carbon dioxide) content. It might not work exactly like methane bubbles in the ocean causing boats to sink as high bubble content in a lava might lead to an explosive eruption, but theoretically, volatiles could help you more readily sink.

Jan S: Does that also mean that Dante's Peak riding a truck over the lava is actually closer to reality than Gollum? Or is the truck's density (it's mostly steel after all) too high to not get stuck?

Me (Erik): This one is tricky – the scene in Dante’s Peak where our hero Pierce Brosnan (right) guns a pickup truck over a lava flow (successfully – and they even rescue the dog!) is very different than Gollum’s fate. First off, the lava flow in the scene from Dante’s Peak is thinner. Also, Pierce has the advantage that he’s not the one burning, so he can use the progressive ablation of the tires on the truck to his advantage. However, one thing that has always bothered me: Why didn’t the gas tank explode? It should have heated so rapidly when the bottom of the truck over the lava that you would think that the flashpoint for gas should have been passed, so Pierce and co. would have blown up before they could ever save Rover … but this may be a quandary for another day.

Simon Smith: In the Top Gear episode, tire temperature was maintained with water spray except when he stopped. All four tires caught fire after which he got rolling again...tires were extinguished but didn't fail.

Me (Erik): This might be one way to keep things from getting too hot – a constant spray of water to keep things cool. I have to admit, I haven’t seen this on Top Gear, but I imagine the water helps in both keeping the tires intact and from the gas tank from exploding. Problem might be the amount of water you might need to keep things cool.

Aruisdante: You would likely sublimate well before you died of asphyxiation if you flat out fell into lava. While your lungs would almost undoubtedly be irrevocably charred from the hot air above the lava (assuming relatively static air conditions over the lava), it takes about 80 seconds for the average human to fall unconscious from lack of oxygen, and I highly doubt your body will last that long.

Me (Erik): This is another aspect I didn’t really tackle – what happens on the way down or, in other words, is it the lava that will kill you when all is said and done.

Frank: Wouldn't the temperature just roast your body or would you pop like a tick with your now boiling blood? Hairs would certainly be the first to go, bones last?

Movie agents, note that my movie is a period piece! (Modified from images by pandrcutts, cruccone and coolinsights.

NZMCA: It didn't quite say beyond the obvious (that one bobs on top of lava) what really happens when you fall into it. Do you combust? Do you burn slow, writhing in agony as your flesh is seared? Come to think of it, the One Ring behaved correctly, floating gently on top and melting away like a truffle on top of a grill...

Me (Erik): I think your actual demise might vary – not to be too gruesome, but might a 150-pound marathon run see a different fate than a 400-lb sumo wrestler (see above)?

Summary: The long and short here is that you might be able to make it across lava if you have the right equipment – maybe a 4x4 truck with a 10-cm layer of asbestos across the bottom and a 1000-liter tank of water constantly spraying your vulcanized rubber tires. Then again, I have trouble envisioning a situation where you might need to employ this, except, of course, in the next big disaster movie where lava flows spread across London. I’ll be taking bids from agents/studios for that script (tentatively titled either *London Bridge is Melting Down *or Mount Python Frying Circus.)

Images: 1) USGS/HVO. 2) Schizoform/Flickr. 3) Interpretive Arson/Flickr. 4) Modified from Flickr images by pandrcutts, cruccone and coolinsights.

#Volcanoes #Lava #Science

0 notes