#and probably chop off my braids cause it looks awful

[savage-rhi]

.

[marshmallow-phd]

Heart of Thorns

Genre: Beauty and the Beast!AU, Romace, Angst

Paring: Tao x Reader

Inspired by: These moodboards created by @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme (x) (x) and my absolute obsession with Beauty and the Beast

Summary: Lost in a forest during a storm, you find shelter in a crumbling castle that had been hidden away for years. The master of the house shut himself away, refusing to engage with the world. Too intrigued and running away from your own fears, you refuse to leave no matter how much he tells you to, wanting to try and find the heart within the beast.

Part One I Part Two I Part Three

**

Everyone knew the story of the man in the forest mansion. He’d once been the son of a prominent and just lord. The people of the land praised the lord’s name as he was always fair and practiced justice amongst all his subjects. It was a month of mourning when he passed away from sickness, but there were high hopes for his son to carry on his legacy. And at first, all was well.

But something happened that changed his heart.

A woman appeared; beautiful, alluring, and sweet. She captured his heart and they say he adored her, showering her in gifts of gold, jewels, and fine cloth. No one knows what happened for sure, only that the lord’s son went mad. There was a fire and the woman died. Most say that he started it with the intent of killing her.  

Soon after, the son turned out all the servants and secluded himself from the rest of the world. Whispers popped up that the woman he killed was a fairy or a nymph and for killing her he was cursed. Some say that he was now a beast, sporting fangs and claws where his human teeth and fingers once were. Others say he was now a creature of the night and stalked the forest when the moon is high for wandering prey.

No had seen the son or the castle where he supposedly lived in years. The excuse that the grandmothers gave was that the forest had grown too thick from the trees and vines for the castle to be found. Since the son had turned out all the servants and land workers after the fire and there was no one to keep the paths clear.

You didn’t believe a word of it. A man with fangs and claws hiding up in a castle to terrorize anyone who came too close was utter nonsense; a fairytale to scare the children and keep them within the town walls. Even if there were such a man, you hardly considered the possibility that he was cursed.

“It's only because you moved here a few months ago,” Mrs. Mooney crooned. As the wife of the town butcher, she was privy to all the gossip that passed by the family shop. She often stood outside, keeping the stall for the smaller scraps or animals they hadn’t managed to sell to the more prestigious customers. “But we older folk remember the little boy who used to run around here while his father conducted business. Spoiled little thing. Always had a pretty pony and the finest clothes. Stuck his nose up at playing with the other children just because they had dirt on their sleeves. Serves him right, what he got.”

“You don’t know what he deserved and what he didn’t,” another graying woman chimed in haughtily. Her dress, though still rough like a peasant’s, was much nicer than the other villagers. Silver curls spilled out from under a white bonnet. Her hands looked coarse from hard labor and her skin kissed for years under the sun. Crinkles stayed permanently in the corners of her eyes, letting you know that she did smile on occasion. You’d never seen her before when you came to the market, but Mrs. Mooney seemed to know her well.

“You would know better than anyone, Feifei,” Mrs. Mooney sneered.

Though now you were intrigued, Mrs. Mooney did not elaborate how the other woman would know anything about this make-believe man.

“That tongue will get you into trouble someday, Johanna.” Adjusting the basket hanging from the crook of her arm, the old woman spared no glance at the meat as she walked away.

Mrs. Mooney clicked her tongue. With a shake of her head, she turned back to you. “So, milady, do plan on any wares today?”

“No, my father already sent Claudette earlier this week,” you said. The smell of the meat was starting to get to you, but you tried your best to keep it off your face. “I simply came down to escape the confinements of home.”

A huff pushed past her lips. “Oh, yes. I’m sure that large stone house must be suffocating.”

Though lashing out would have been easy, you bit your tongue. This butcher’s wife didn’t know your history. She didn’t know that compared to your previous home in the city, this new place was a shack.

It was your mother’s inheritance that kept you, your siblings, and your father afloat. The home, bought long ago by your grandfather who was now passed, was a honeymoon paradise for your parents. After your mother died giving birth to you, the house was locked up to be a refuge only to spiders and rodents since your father couldn’t bear visiting the place alone. He’d poured himself into his work, curating business as he brought investors and merchants together. When a major client lost his ships at sea, one of his managers took off with most of the assets and funds, leaving debts and loans in their place. To pay off the leeches, most of your possessions had to be auctioned off and the home that had sheltered you since childhood was sold to a new family.

Life away from the bustling city wasn’t too awful. You didn’t have to worry about being run over by a carriage since most of the residents here couldn’t afford one. Everyone seemed to know everyone, which was both intriguing to you while also a little bothersome. At first your family, being new, was the center of all the gossip. Rumors of your father or brother gambling the fortune away or you and your sister having scandalized the family and caused you all to hide away ran rampant. Eventually, the mill settled down and you were left in peace. Some of the villagers still gave side eyed glances, but you’d learned to brush them off.

Thinking it was time to head back home, you said goodbye to the butcher’s wife and followed the brown dirt street beyond the wall that surrounded the town until the scenery turned to fields of wildflowers and small farms. You took a right at the fork, already seeing the two-story country home come into view. The tan brick was a bit faded from the sun and thick vines grew up the sides and around the windows. A small garden grew out in front. There was a fairytale essence to the home that made you love it more. In the back, Claudette would be hanging the laundry to dry in the subtle breeze. Father was most likely in his study, shuffling through papers and letters to find a way out of this place. Cosette was probably lying on the old couch in the front parlor, constantly fanning herself as she whined of the woes she was forced to live through. Your brother, Lu, would be sitting on a log, writing in his journal when he was supposed to be chopping wood.

Cosette was right where you had guessed she was. As soon as you walked through the door, she jumped up and hurried to you with her skirt crumbled in her hand.

“Where have you been?” she screeched, her dark hair pulled back into an intricately braided bun. You tried not to be annoyed. She must have had Claudette do her hair when both of them were supposed to be helping with the washing. “Father has news that he’s been dying to share with us, but he refused to divulge what it is until you were here.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister’s impatience. “Surely, you must have known I would have been home eventually.”

She “hmphed” at you before whirling dramatically and stomping off towards your father’s study. You followed her slowly, your stomach swishing with nerves.

Truth be told, you didn’t mind it out here. The country was a great deal quieter than the city, the air cleaner too. The greatest unexpected gift, however, was how often you saw your dear father. As a child, you had to savor every dinner, every private concert in your living room, and the short moments you were able to spend with him in between his travels or meetings. Claudette never carried as she was more invested in the connections she was making with the other well-to-do families and Lu was often tagging along with your father as the eldest and heir apparent. Now the four of you felt more like a family. If you were, by some miracle or fashion, to go back to the city, routine would fall back into its previous structure and you would be alone again.

Lu surprised you by already being in the room when you entered, seated in a corner with a hardened look on his face. It was strangely out of place given his boyish looks often kept his expression soft. Your father looked up from the papers that were neatly piled up on the desk. “Aw, (y/n)! You’re back from town. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, I did,” you aswered cautiously. “The market was full today.” Your eyes flicked towards Cosette, who had taken the only other chair, continuing to fan herself even though the temperature wasn’t anywhere near that drastic. “I heard you wanted to see us all together?”

“Yes! Yes! Um.” Your father looked around, perhaps to see if there was another place for you to sit. As there was none, he went on. “I received a letter from Lu’s old friend, Lin Gao.” Lu perked up at the mention of Gao. None of you had seen him since you came here, thinking that he, like the others, had abandoned you all when the money was lost. Now, that didn’t seem to be the case. “He has worked with several connections and can bring us back into good standing with society. He’s even convinced a few merchants and investors to allow me to broker deals again.” Your father cleared his throat. “There is, however, one condition.”

“What is that, Father?” Lu asked.

“He asked for (y/n)’s hand in marriage.”

The quietest gasp escaped your lips. Gao wanted… to marry you?

As the baby sister, you tended to follow your brother and his friends around, begging for attention and often they obliged you, as long as the setting was appropriate for a child. All of his friends had treated you as their own sister, equally protecting and caring. You’d never suspected them to have thoughts that led into the contrary as you’d grown up.

Lu’s eyes landed on you for a split second, studying your face enough. “Did he say (y/n) specifically?”

“Yes, why (y/n)?” Cosette scoffed. “I would be more than willing.”

“He specifically asked for (y/n)’s hand.”

Cosette closed her fan with a snap. “Well, then. Arrange the wedding so we can get out of this dumpy town.”

But wait. Did you not get a say in this?

Your father leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “The help from Gao would be tremendous. But I will not force anything on to any of you. (Y/n),” he looked at you with conflict in his eyes, “if you do not wish to marry Gao, I will send him a letter politely declining the offer. I can find other means on my own.”

He was giving you a way out, if you so wished. But you couldn’t deny the help this would bring for all of you.

“Can I think about it?” you asked in a quiet voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“What do you mean, think about it?” Cosette nearly flew out of her seat. “What is there to think about? If we are to get our fortune back, then (y/n) must marry him. I would in a heartbeat if he had asked for me.”

“But he didn’t ask for you,” Lu said.

Your father insisted. “Let your sister think about it. To force this upon her would break my heart. I will not have her live unhappily.”

“And what about me! Why should I live unhappily?”

“Enough!” Your father stood to his feet and he slammed his fist down on the desk. You flinched at the noise the collision created. Rare was it for your father to get upset like this. He was usually very levelheaded. “I am still head of this household and you will accept my decision. Now, go!”

With a stomp of her foot, Cosette stormed out of the room like a spoiled child told that she couldn't have a piece of candy. Eyes trained down on the floor, you quietly excused yourself and went upstairs to your room.

Your favorite place in the house was your room, the smallest besides Claudine’s on the first floor. But the trade for it was the reading crook by the window, overlooking the garden. You liked the isolation you could feel when you sat on the bench, knees pulled up close to your chest as your skirts fell over the side. The window was cold as you laid your forehead against the glass. A breeze was moving through, swaying the leaves in the trees and rattling the vines against the stone walls of the house.

What would living with Gao be like? You had never thought of your brother’s friend in a romantic light. Would there be any romance between the two of you? Or would you be condemned to a loveless marriage like so many other girls? Could you live like that?

You had no answers at the moment. You weren’t sure if you would ever have an answer. But a compromise was coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have to say yes right away. Maybe you could meet with Gao, get to know him more, in a different way that how you knew him before. And, if you decided that he was not the kind of man you wanted to spend your life with, if there was no possibility of love between the two of you, perhaps you could convince him to help your father anyway, for sake of his friendship with Lu.

You pictured Gao’s face in your mind, willing yourself to love it. But all that did was churn your stomach.

**

Your father had sent the letter asking if a visit to the city would be possible for you. Gao’s reply came back quicker than expected: yes. He made all the arrangements; he hired the carriage, sent money so you could rest in an inn for a night before arriving in town the next day. Barely a week had gone by since you were first told of this offer and now you were traveling by yourself for the first time in your life.

Cloak wrapped tightly over your shoulders, you kissed your father goodbye on the cheek. Tears were swelling behind your eyes, but you refused to let him see them.

“Be on your best behavior,” he teased. You were the last out of the three to get into trouble. “Write to me as soon as you arrive. Alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

Lu patted your shoulder. When you were a child, he showed you affection freely, but now that you were grown, he’d become a bit awkward when other people were watching. Cosette didn’t say a word. She simply fanned herself at a quick rate as smirk rested on her lips. All she carried about was getting back to high society, to the parties and the searching for a husband who possessed a fortune large enough to keep her satisfied.

Your father glanced up at the sky. “Better go now, my dear. The clouds are growing darker. I want you at that inn before the storm comes through.”

“The only way to do that is to go through the forest,” the driver commented from atop the carriage.

Your father seemed unnerved by that observation but gave no protest. “I will wait to hear from you.”

You gave one last kiss to his stubbled cheek. “Goodbye, father. Take care of him, Lu. Will you?”

“Naturally,” Lu said with a chuckle.

You merely nodded to Cosette before stepping into the carriage. The cabby lurched forward and you allowed the small smile that had been straining on your lips to fall away. Anxiety settled in your stomach. You wanted to have a positive outlook on this whole thing. It was better to possibly marry a friend of the family rather than a complete stranger twenty years your senior.

Unclasping the hook that held your cloak together, you let the soft fabric fall behind you on the seat. The literal weight off your shoulders helped you to breathe easier. You closed your eyes and leaned back. There was still a long journey until you would arrive back in a city that you hadn’t seen in months, although it felt more like years. That was another life to you, a past self. One you had been okay with letting go. And now you were uneasily walking back into its arms.

The ground shook, rattling the walls of the carriage. You pushed the curtain out of the way and peaked out the window. Flashes of lightning so bright that not even the thick trees of the forest could keep them back splintered across the sky. The storm had come quicker than anticipated. Raindrops splattered against the dirt floor, starting out slow then growing in pace. Soon it was impossible to see more than five steps in front of you.

The wind grew untamable. The carriage rocked from side to side, the thin wheels ricketing against the strain. A bolt of lightning screamed too close for comfort. The horse reared back in fright as the carriage passed by a ravine. It was all too much. The carriage toppled over, falling down the side of the ravine. You were tossed around the cabby like a rock between a group of children. When the falling finally stopped, you let out a cry of relief. A second cry left your lips, this time for the driver. But no reply came.

The carriage had landed on its side, but thankfully, it had another door to escape through. You clasped the cloak around your shoulders once more and pulled up the hood before pushing the door open and climbing out.

You were soaked as soon as you stepped out of the carriage. The driver was gone. You didn’t know if he was dead or if he had ran away. The horse, the poor thing, didn’t move or whine. Water was slowly rising in the creek from the rushing rain. You had to get out of here. With what little strength you had, you managed to climb back up the side of the hill. A chill froze your fingers and chattered your teeth. You walked in the opposite way that you thought the carriage was heading. Getting back to your home was your only hope. You had never been in these woods and the sky was too dark to tell directions from the sun. The rain was pouring down harder. Each step you took grew weaker. An unseen tree root stuck out of the ground, catching your foot. Shock ran up your arms as you tried to catch yourself when you fell. You couldn’t go anymore. You were too cold, too tired. So you lied there in the mud, wishing for a miracle. The rain soon came to a stop, but you were still too exhausted to push yourself up. Your eyes grew tired. Finally, the lids closed. The sound of horse hooves against the mud grew near, but you couldn't be sure if it was real or simply your imagination clinging to hope.

“We can’t just leave her here, Xao.”

“But what would the master think if we showed up with her?”

“So, you would leave her to die?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then we take her with us! The castle is big enough that he would never even have to know.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Someone lifted you up from the ground, but before you could discover who it was, you lost consciousness completely.

**

You weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the splitting headache that pounded at your skull. Or it could have been the shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“Get her OUT of here!”

“My lord, please, see reason. The poor child was dying in that storm.”

“I don’t care. She’s alive now, so get her out!”

“But she’s still sick. The poor thing has a fever. She’s been sweating all night.”

“I do not want her here. No one is to come here, you know that!”

“Let me take care of her. Once she’s on her feet again, I’ll take her back into town.”

“Fine!”

Heavy foot stomps echoed off the floor. One side of the double doors opened and inside stepped the old woman from the market.

You?

“You’re awake,” she sighed. “I can only imagine what had woken you up.” In her hands was a silver tray of different morsels and a tea kettle slowly letting out a flow of steam. Seeing you struggle to sit up, she hurried to set the tray down on the nightstand and help you. “Don’t overexert yourself, miss. You’re not fully recovered from that awful storm yet. You’ve been asleep for two days now.”

Two days! Your father must have been losing his mind when he never received word that you had arrived in town. A coughing fit of your own started up. The old woman gave you a glass of water to calm your throat before adjusting the pillows behind your head. You took in the bedroom that you were housed in. The light gray drapes that hung from the bedposts were old and a little faded but still made from an expensive velvet fabric. The blanket that covered you was soft and warm and smelled of lavender. Cosette would squeal at the size of this place. It was even bigger than her room at the old house in the city.

“Where am I?”

The old woman’s hands stopped before she could pull out the warming pan from the foot of the bed. “You're at the lord’s estate.”

You frowned. “What lord?” As far as you were aware, the closet lord was at least several days ride from town. And you doubted he would have allowed a room to go untouched like this one obviously was.

Sadness fell upon the old woman’s face. “He’s a good man. A good man with a tragic past.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the old woman folded her hands and laid them in her lap. “Do you remember the story Mrs. Mooney was telling you at the market?” You nodded. “This is his home.”

“He… exists?”

“Yes. Though the awful rumors….” She shook her head. “Anyway, yes. But his lordship isn’t accustomed to visitors. I apologize for what you might have heard.”

Perhaps it was the fever, but your curiosity was now out of your control. “Why doesn’t he want anyone here?”

The old woman stood up. “Never you mind. We’ll get you back on your feet and then Mr. Chan will take you back into town.” She poured a fresh cup of tea, handing it to you carefully.

“Do I have to go back to town?”

“We don’t really have a choice, dear. You heard the master.” She eyed you as you sipped on the warm, caramel colored tea. “What is it? Why don’t you want to go back to town?”

You finished off the tea before explaining. “My family wants me to get married, to help the financial situation. At first, I thought I was willing to at least try, to see that man again and find out if I could love him. But… now I’m grateful for the storm.”

“If you don’t wish to marry him, why not say so?”

“Because if my father never restores his reputation and our family falls further into ruin, it will be all my fault.”

The old woman shook her head. “You poor thing. That’s too much weight to bear.” She let out a long sigh. “Try to eat and then get more rest. Your eyes look heavy. We’ll see if we can’t delay your being cured by a few more days.” She headed for the door. After opening on side, she halfway turned back around. “I’m Mrs. Chan, by the way. If you need anything, pull on the cord by the bed. I’ll hear the bell and come to you. Now, rest.”

As soon as the door closed and you were alone again, you felt the weight of your lids growing. Reaching over to the tray, you tore off a piece of the bun and chewed on it slowly. Eventually, you nodded off into a dreamless sleep.

**

Over the next several days, you passed between peaceful sleeps and uncomfortable awareness. Your fever broke on day two, but you still felt weak. Mrs. Chan checked up on you often, keeping you well fed and making sure there was a fresh pitcher of water or tea for you to drink. When you stopped sleeping as much, she brought you a book to occupy your time. But you read through the comedic romance quickly. A tingling was coursing up and down your legs. They needed to move, to be used. You’d been lying in bed for so long you weren’t sure if they even worked properly anymore.

Earlier, Mrs. Chan had stopped by to say she was going into town to pick a few things up at the market. Mr. Chan was to be out on the grounds so if you needed anything it would have to wait for her return.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing. On one hand, you could find nothing of interest in this ancient castle. On the other hand, you could find yourself in the absolute wrong place and have yourself thrown out into the cold before Mrs. Chan could come back and rescue you.

Silly. All of it was. A little walk wouldn’t do any harm. You would make sure to stay near your room and if you heard footsteps, you would run back here in an instant.

With your feet bare and the nightgown Mrs. Chan had given you made of a thinner material, you were a bit cold as you left the comfort of the blankets. But you pushed forth with your curiosity. This grand room was all you had seen of your haven. You wanted to know more about the home of the lord whose memory haunted the village. You stuck your head out first, looking down the hall from either side. It was empty save for the polished suits of armor that lined the sides, sitting between old portraits previous tenants. As quietly as you could, you closed the bedroom door behind you and softly stepped further into the hall. Through the long space you made your way, glancing at every painting as you passed. Some had chipped paint while others’ frames had dulled over the years, but each one was still magnificent, the subject stunningly beautiful in their own unique ways. You weren’t sure if it was the magic of the artist or if the family was truly blessed in that manner.

Every so often you would peer into a room when the door was unlocked. Most of them were bedrooms or small studies. By the collection of dust gathered on most of the furniture, they hadn’t been used in quiet a while. Soon, the hall took a turn, spilling out into the Grand Hall where the other hallways met. You started to go right when a set of double doors down a shorter hallway in the other direction caught your eye. They were bigger than any of the other doors you had seen so far. You hurried to that one instead, intrigued by what might be behind it. Barely able to get it open with your weak arms, you squeezed through the space and stumbled inside. Then you gasped.

When Mrs. Chan had described the library to you, she had said that the family had a fair collection of books. You might have to clarify with her what a “fair amount” really meant.

The library was housed in the back most tower, the shelves built into the walls and going higher than your eyes could see. Ladders made of wood and metal were attached to the spaces between the shelves. They moved freely from side to side to put any book within reach. As a child, you thought your father had the biggest collection of books by any one person in the world. How silly you were. This place could hold twenty of your father’s old library. You whirled around and around, taking in every detail. It was like a fairy tale.

You stepped closer to the wall and ran your hand over the leather bindings. It had been so long since you’d been able to take in the smell of old books. You had only been able to save two of your favorite novels from the auction. They were currently hidden under your bed. If Cosette ever got a whiff of them, she’d sell them to pay for a new dress. As you made your way around the library, you spotted another door, one that nearly blended in with the shelves. Feeling brave from your latest discovery, you tried the handle. It turned with ease. You pulled the door towards you. Sunlight spilled into the library. The secondary room was mostly empty – save for one object. A piano.

Bang!

The door shut in your face, startling you backwards. You stumbled into something hard. Turning to see what it was, you gasped in fright

A tall, dark hair man with the left half of his face covered in a white mask glared at you.

“What are you doing in here!” he shouted, face glowing red with fury.

“I-I-I’m sor-sorry,” you stutter as you scurried back. The door to the room stopped you from going any further. You were trapped with no way to escape. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You were supposed to say in your room,” he continued to bellow, not concerned at all with your fear. “Stay away from this room! Go!”

That last command was enough to send you running, passing the man and leaving the library. You hurried to the Great Hall, to get back to your room as quickly as possible. Looking back over your shoulder, you checked to see if he was coming after you. The hallway was empty behind you. Once safely back in your room, you scurried under your covers as if they would protect you from the masked man.

**

Mrs. Chan gave no indication that she was aware of your little adventure. If the masked man – the lord of this castle, you presumed – had told her, surely you would have been thrown out by now. She did, however, seem upset about something.

“Is everything alright?” you asked before she could leave the room with your empty food tray.

“Oh, it’s nothing I want to trouble you with, dear,” Mrs. Chan said.

You smiled at her. “I’ve been told I’m a very good listener.”

A second went by and then Mrs. Chan sighed. “It’s just the master. He wasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been wondering through the west wing lately and I’m worried about him.”

The west wing? That was where you were headed before the library stole your attention. “What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing of importance,” Mrs. Chan snapped. It was a harsher tone that you were used to. You lowered your gaze remorsefully. “Oh, dear. I’ve upset you. Don’t worry about and try to get more rest. You need color back in your cheeks.” She left the room, blowing out the lamp before shutting the door and leaving you in darkness.

You woke a few hours later to a loud bang. At first you thought of ignoring it. Then the thought of something happening to Mrs. Chan came into your mind.

Throwing a blanket around your shoulders, you carefully relit the lamp and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hello?” you called out softly. Another bang answered you. It was faint, not coming from this hallway. You followed it, occasionally calling out again. No human ever replied.

You passed through the Great Hall and into the west wing. You should learned, really, from your earlier excursion. But the thought of someone being trouble refused to let you turn back. Now that you were closer to the source, a soft moaning could be heard among the silence. You pressed your ear from door to door, trying to see if it was coming from behind one of them. It was the door on the very end that held back the sound. With enough moonlight coming from the wide window at the end of the hall to see by, you put the oil lamp down on the floor out of the way and went inside.

Even in the darkness, you could see the smoke and soot stained walls. The remnants of a bed stood in the middle of the wood. Hanging behind it was a portrait of a beautiful woman with golden hair and rich brown eyes that stuck out even with half of the painting burned and curled.  

“What are you doing in here!”

You gasped as the lord of the castle stepped out of the shadows. His mask was gone, but he kept the left side of his face covered with his hand. In his other hand was a small torch. With its light you could see the scars on the back of his hand, the tight and lifted skin usually caused by fire. You said nothing, too stunned to find words.

Dropping his left hand, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist. The scars on his face were now partially visible, but still mostly hidden in shadow and by the locks of hair that had fallen. From what you could see, they matched the scars visible on his hand. “I asked you why you are here!”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice came out in squeaks, fear running you cold despite the proximity of the flame. “I heard noises. I thought someone might be in trouble.”

He sneered at your answer. “If you’re well enough to walk around then GET. OUT!” He practically threw you out of the room.

You landed on your knees but didn’t stay there for long. You scrambled up to your feet and took off down the hall, leaving the oil lamp behind. The nightgown caught on your foot in your haste as you passed the staircase. You went tumbling down the marble stairs, a scream piercing your throat. You couldn’t stop no matter how you tried. When the bottom of the staircase finally came, you were out cold.

[charmingcentry]

Bechloe - Lost

Part 1

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- CHLOE’S POV -

A wide stiff yawn emerges from an awakened Chloe, turning off her 5:30 A.M. alarm. Although her veterinary profession doesn’t require her to clock in until 9 A.M. sharp, she rises extra early to run errands beforehand in hopes of free time after clocking out at 5 P.M. She rubs her eyes and stretches out her body, letting out another yawn in the process. The redhead creeps out of her room, cautiously walking to the bathroom, not wanting to wake her roommate, Aubrey Posen. Let’s just say, no one would want to deal with grumpy exasperated Aubrey unless they’re looking for a death wish. Chloe lets out a sigh of relief after her seemingly long walk from her bedroom to the bathroom, grateful that she didn’t wake up the blonde. The redhead switches on the shower faucet and steps in, resisting the urge to break out into song. Instead, she hums the tune of When I’m Gone, a song Beca had shown Chloe over the course of their many video chats.

Ever since the two met, they have been inseparable, usually talking over the phone after Beca has put Jamie to bed and after Chloe has taken care of her veterinary-related research along with dinner. Their video chats, audio calls, and text conversations have lasted approximately an hour each night, their longest being 2 when coincidentally, the two had an off-day from their profession. The two feel like teenagers whenever they talk at night, avoiding to stay up too late since they both wake up early morning. Throughout the day, Beca and Chloe usually send somewhat flirty texts to enlighten the other’s mood and day.

Chloe: this puppy i just took gave vaccines to reminds me of you ngl. Beca: is it because im as sick as a dog? Chloe: ha ha very funny. but no, it was pretty tiny actually ;P Beca: hey! Chloe: its coat of fur had similar color to yours. it was also pretty adorable too;) Beca: you callin me cute beale? bc trust me, when im sick like this, i look horrifying Chloe: aw no you donttt. you looked really hot during our facetime date last night;))  Beca: it was probably bc of my high fever but thanks chlo  Chloe: oh whatever. i gotta go but ill text you later. feel better becs!

The redhead turns off the shower faucet and dries herself up, using a blow-dryer to quicken the process of drying her hair. She walks out of the bathroom into the kitchen, greeted by an energetic Aubrey who is chopping up fruits on the counter. The blonde greets the redhead, shoveling the sliced fruit into a blender. Chloe pats her friend’s shoulder and quickly downs a banana that she snatched from Aubrey’s cutting board.

“Hey! That was gonna go to our smoothie Chloe.” Aubrey exclaims as she tears another one of the yellow fruit from a bowl.

“Sorry, Aubrey!” Chloe exclaims, tying on her running sneakers. “Needed a quick snack before my run.” She opens their apartment door and heads out. “Bye Bree!”

“Bye Chlo, be safe!”

- BECA’S POV -

“Mommy get up already!” The brunette lets out a groan as her little daughter basically body slams her, feeling Jamie’s hair smothering her own face. Beca elevates herself and lays back on her forearms, noticing the clock read 6:45 A.M. The brunette ruffles her daughter’s hair as Jamie lets out a giggle, proceeding to then step off of the bed to pull her mother by her arm. “Come on! You promised you would get me ready for picture day!”

Beca finally gives in to her pleading daughter and gets out of bed, scrambling around her room to turn on the lights. “Okay sweetie, let mommy get ready first alright?”

The excited girl lets out a squeal and makes her way down the hall of their small condo as Beca continues to wonder how in the world Jamie has this amount of energy so early in the morning. Well, I guess it’s because she’s only five and for some reason, younger kids have a lot more energy than everyone else in the world. The brunette lets out a yawn, grabbing a change of clothes from her closet as she shuffles her way to the bathroom as her slippers scarped against their hard wooden floors. Beca brushes her teeth as she scrolls through her phone, being met with dozens of text from her friend Stacie Conrad who is already teasing about Chloe this early in the morning

Stacie: how are things with that redhead going;))  Beca: honestly its too early in the morning for this stace. but its good i guess. we have a coffee date later tonight which should be cool Stacie: YAY! so happy you decided to go through with it Beca: thanks i guess? but i mean, i am too. chloe seems pretty nice and stuff Stacie: you needa sharpen up on your complimenting game if you want a second date with that gorgeous redhead of yours Beca: oh shut up conrad. Stacie: :). oki, imma help Bella organize her school items now. byeeeee! Beca: cya weirdo.

The brunette walks out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed after dousing her face in cold water. One of the cons of being a night showerer is that they definitely suffer from lack of energy in the morning, so Beca splashes her face in cold water to make herself more alert and awake. She finds her daughter sitting patiently in her room, still in her pajamas with wet hair, Beca smiles that her daughter is beginning to learn how to shower on her own. Jamie’s mouth turns into a big grin when seeing her mom walk in, immediately bouncing up from her small racecar bed - a hand-me-down from Stacie after Bella grew out of it - and rushing towards her mother.

“What should I wear?” Jamie asks in excitement, still jumping up and down in place. Beca smiles and scoops her up, walking over to her closet. The brunette slides the door open and puts on a dramatic pondering face, causing Jamie to let out a laugh.

“How about~ this!” Beca exclaims, pulling out a light yellow sundress with white polka-dots scattered across the fabric, a present from Chloe the redhead had given it to Beca when she saw the brunette’s dad pick up Jamie from kindergarten.

“Yes! Chloe gave me that!” The brunette puts her daughter down and playfully throws the dress over Jamie’s head as she lets out another laugh yet again. “Hey! That’s mean mommy.” Jamie pouts as she pulls off her pajamas with the help of Beca. The tinier brunette lifts up her arms as her mom drapes the sundress over her body, Jamie letting out another squeal of excitement as she sees her outfit.

“Careful with noise Jamie, we don’t want to bother the neighbors do we?”

“Bo-ther?” Her daughter asks, Beca being reminded that there are words that Jamie still doesn’t know - the music producer also has to watch her cussing too...

“It means you make someone sad in some way. Some of our neighbors get bothered when there is a lot of noise when they want to sleep.”

“Oh, okay! I’ll try not to… bo-ther.” Beca smiles as she kneels down to braid her daughter’s hair, finally getting the hang of it after countless tutorials on Youtube and incidents of countless hair pulling. After 5 minutes, the braid was finished and Beca finishes off her outfit with baby pink sneakers, planting a kiss on Jamie’s cheek.

“Okay, let’s roll Jamie! Get your backpack.” Beca states, tying on her sneakers and grabbing her car keys off of the bowl that rests on top of the kitchen counter

“What about breakfast?” Jamie asks, getting a backpack that is twice the size of her own body.

“Don’t worry, we’re stopping by a cafe. I need to get coffee for someone and we’ll eat there.” Jamie lets out a small cheer, she always loved when they ate breakfast at her favorite cafe.

“Who are you getting coffee for?” Beca takes ahold of Jamie’s hand as they walk out of their condo, the brunette locking the door after them.

“Chloe sweetie.”

“Why?”

“Just a little surprise for her,” Beca states, wondering why her daughter is suddenly asking many questions.

“Wow mommy, you really like Chloe.”

Beca chuckles as she presses the elevator button to the main floor of their condo building. “Yep, I sure do Jamie.” They walk over to the parking lot and Beca hoists Jamie in her car seat and begins the seat buckle process.

“No, wait! I can do it on my own.” Jamie says, grabbing the seatbelt from the top left corner and clicks the belt into the slot. Beca stands back in astonishment and prevents a tear trying to escape. Her little Jamie is slowly growing up.

“Pretty neat little dude, getting smarter every second.” She walks over to the driver side of the car and gets in. She buckles her own seatbelt and starts the car, turning up the radio, laughing when Jamie quietly raps along to No Diggity... maybe Beca should play this song a lot less with her daughter in the car.

[pinktatertots99]

nanbaka Halloween week day 5- darkness falls

Title: sleepless nights and lustful spite (prequel to "hot as hell") Author: pinktatertots99 (tates. taylor) Character(s): qi, upa, liang Pairing(s): qi x liang Rating: T Warnings (if there are any): religious themes, swearing. Summary: for the past few weeks qi has been plagued with such vulgar and explicit dreams that cannot seem to be exorcised no matter how hard he tries. taking advice from his apprentice he decides there's only one thing to do: capture the cause of these dreams. unbeknownst to him what hellish hole he'd fall into after finding the truth.

Qi rose from his bed, gasping in a cold sweat as he looked around the small room. Lifting the sheets a bit he sighed, deciding to head for the bathroom for a cold shower...again.

This has been happening for two weeks now. He'd pray, go to sleep, and then dream up such...venereal dreams. He couldn't remember them waking up but snippets of a naked body and panting he could remember. And then the feel of light touches to scratching skin. Which would then lead him to waking up and having to...fix a certain problem. Then he'd go back to bed and consult to one of the other priests the following morning.

This has become basically routine and it was honestly annoying the man. He didn't want to keep going to consult about these dreams. He wanted them gone! But he didn't know how to get rid of them. He's tried whatever he could. Repress them, avoid certain foods that could cause it, avoid sleeping on his stomach, anything he could read up or look up to stop them. Some days they wouldn't come but others they would and it's been driving him mad.

This night though, this night was different. As he emerged from the bathroom fully clothed drying his hair with a towel, his eyes lazily looked to the end of his bed and did a double take. The end of his bed was dark but he could see clearly two bright peach colored eyes staring sharply at him. No one in the church he knew had those eyes so it couldn't be a visitor. They were unreal. He looked to the door and back at the eyes that seemed to also follow his line of vision.

Quickly he lunged towards the door, opening it yelling that a demon was inside repeatedly. Getting the attention of a few priests, rushing to him.

“A DEMON?!”

“what're you talking about?”

“IN MY ROOM! IT'S IN THERE!”

“are you mad?!”

“hush! Can't you see he's terrified?!”

“I SWEAR! It was staring at me with piercing pink eyes!”

opening the door, qi and the others jumped into the room, with one of them turning on the switch. The room was bare. Nothing was there. Qi was shocked as the others looked confused and a few a but annoyed.

“it-it was right here! At the end of my bed! I SWEAR I'm not making this up!” he defended. Most were starting to leave the room.

“perhaps you were seeing things?”

“i swear I wasn't-”

“those dreams you've been having-”

“it WASN'T a dream. I was up and awake when I saw it.”

“why are you trying to make up other reasons for this?” one of the priests spoke out on qi's behalf. “if he saw a demon he saw a demon. And with this sighting and the dreams it's obvious somethings wrong.”

“and that would be?”

“he's in great peril.”

the man froze, gripping his cross necklace and shirt. “p-p-p-pERIL?!”

“we should do something about this! We shall cleanse this room immediately! Get the sage!” a hand came onto qi's shoulder. “you've been through a lot this evening. Why don't you go downstairs and pray while we cleanse the room?” qi nodded in agreement and went downstairs to pray in the corterdal. Shortly after though he fell asleep and woke up with a blanket over himself and pillow under his head. One of the priests had found him and told him the room had been cleansed. Overwhelming relief flushed through him with the news. That night he slept peacefully, no more of those dreams or sightings .

It didn't seem to last for long though. After a couple days the dreams started to come back. He confronted a priest the next day after the first dream came back.

“perhaps you should cleanse the room?”

and he did, and the next night came...and the dream came back. It shocked him. How did it not work. He went to talk to the priest again.

“and you THOUROUGHLY cleansed it?”

“yes.”

“hmm. We should circumcise the room then.”

that day they circumcised the room. That night though, he was visited by those dreams again. This. Was. RIDICULOUS. WHY were they happening still?! Cleansing didn't work, circumcising didn't work, praying didn't work, all the things he tried weren't working, NOTHING WAS WORKING! This HAD to stop. Now.

The next day, after morning prayer, he avoided telling the priest about this and went for the church's library to find some form of advice to get rid of this. Unfortunately he couldn't find anything that he hasn't already tried. So his next stop was the library that was a couple blocks down. Once there he started searching through the books, distracted with trying to find the right one.

“father?”

he jumped a bit at the sudden voice and looked to see a familiar face. In front of him was upa, the church's church boy. In his school uniform no doubt, already out of school and there to obviously do school work.

“ah, upa.” qi sighed in relief. Upa raised his eyes at the other curiously. “what are you doing here?” he asked. Qi started scratching the back of his head nervously at the question. “um..well I was just-” before he could finish upa had looked over at the table near them and seen the stacks of books there and walked to them, picking one up. Qi froze a bit at it as the younger looked back at him.

“is this...” he trailed off. Qi's mind started wandering over what to say, but before he could upa reached into his book bag and picked out a large, old book and made a beeline to the printer. Opening the book he scanned a few pages from it before returning with a few in hand.

“your gonna want these.” he offered the pages to the older. The priest looked at them. On the pages were instructions and sketches of how to catch a demon. He looked at the younger boy quizically, many questions filling his head.

“if you want the problem to stop, you need to catch it. If you catch it then you can interrogate it and maybe it'll leave you alone. Or kill it. Whichever one works for you.” upa answered. Qi's eyes were still wide a bit. The younger sighed. “my grandfather had it and after he died loaned it to me along with any other belongings.” “oh.” the older responded, giving upa's head a pat, smiling. “what would I ever do without you upa?”

“probably something stupid.”

that night after dinner and prayer, qi had made his way to his dorm and started drawing the pentagram that was on the page on the floor. This might've looked stupid, and maybe it did, but he was desperate now. So drawing this demon catcher to catch this demon was something he was willing to do. After he drew it he prayed and went to bed.

sleepy magenta eyes opened the next day as qi woke up that morning. In his groggy state he realized that he didn't wake up last night. So then, does that mean it worked? As he stretched he looked over to his right...and looked again and screamed at what, or more specifically, who he found.

In the place the pentagram was was a person. Kinda. Putting his glasses on he could clearly see the person better. The person was Chinese, young, looked to be a young adult or so, their long raven hair was in a braid split at the end. The outfit was consisted of a black, leather cropped tank top, matching leather gloves, matching pencil skirt, and from the looks of it healed leather boots.

What caught him though were the stranger's eyes. Bright pink, peach colored eyes that seemed to glare at him. Those eyes, they were the eyes he saw that one night! This was the demon!

“it's about time you woke up.” it said. Qi jumped at the sudden interruption. From the sound of it's voice though, he could safely assume this demon was male. Though now the clothing seemed more questionable but he'll let it slide.

“i was tempted to wake you up myself, though, you did look rather cute sleeping.” the demon went on, smiling a toothy grin, showing a bit of his fangs. The older just raised a brow at the other. He was still awe stricken at this.

“and if you wanted me to stay around longer, you could've just asked.” at that qi grimaced at him. “actually, I want the opposite.” he said. The demon looked at him curiously. “i want you gone. Out of here. And to take your disgusting dreams with you.”

the demon was wide eyed before seeming to calm his features and smiled at him. “oh, I don't think that'll happen anytime soon.” he purred. The priest raised a brow at that. “what do you mean?”

“i'm saying I'm not leaving you for a long while.” he said. Qi felt a jolt of fear at that. It felt like a threat. “the only way to get rid of me, is to kill me. Of course, even if you did, you'll never be able to kill those nasty little thoughts in your head.~”

“wh-what? No, YOU planted those IN me.” the demon stifled a giggle at the notion. “please, if it were that easy.” he said. “as an incubus it's basically my job to know ~exactly what you like~.” he licked his chops. “don't tell me your not interested. I've taken many notes on what you like.~”

the priest stared blankly processing what exactly the being just said. “a-...a what?” he asked. “incubus. Sex demon. Come now that little book you read HAS to have some description of us doesn't it?”

“yes it does. Your a bit...different? Then the sketches though...”

“we change our looks for our clients. Course if you want-” a sudden blur of smoke came from him as qi looked to see the other still looked...like a woman?! “-we can change certain ~parts~ to your liking.” his now feminine silky voice purred as qi went completely wide eyed. His mind swirling with so many questions right now but THOSE would have to wait.

“i've...never thought of ideas like...this.”

“oh you didn't have to~ those deep feelings you have spoke VOLUMES~.”

that was it. That cracked the camels back as he glared at the other. “that's it. THAT'S why I caught you. To get you to STOP with your weird sex related thoughts. I want them done and gone. Now get rid of them!”

“well too bad. I'm not going anywhere unless you fuck or kill me. And we both know your not doing one of those, so...” silence. Qi was now uncertain about this. Kill a demon? Sure it'd get rid of the problem but...that was a sin right? Maybe for good it could be forgiven but...somehow...he wasn't sure killing THIS demon would be an exception to that rule.

He looked back to see the other had turned back to his male form while he was contemplating the option. “so? What're you gonna do with me?~” he asked. Qi sighed, he couldn't believe he was going to do this. “i must be either really stupid or really nice, but, i'm sparing your life.” he stated.

“i say very stupid indeed.” the demon protruded. “though, you may have made a good decision. I have friend's who wouldn't be very happy knowing I turned to dust...~and would avenge my death one way or another~.”

he felt a shiver go down his spine at that notion. He does NOT want to know who these “friends” may be. He calmed his breathing though before continuing. “i'll spare your life IF you get rid of these accursed dreams.”

the demon tapped a finger on his lips humming in thought. “perhaps, that can be arranged. BUT-” oh no. he was worried about a but coming into the sentence. “but, I get to stay. After all it is the truth that I can't leave unless we have sex. It's part of the rules. Set in stone.”

qi sighed in defeat. He couldn't fight with a law, even if it was a law made in hell. Regardless he had to respect it. “fine.” he said. “but YOU are not to touch me or attempt at doing ANYTHING physical with me unless I say it's fine. Got it?”

“of course.” the demon agreed, shocking the priest. “i'm a SEX demon after all. Pleasure is the only thing I give and achieve. Though, certain types of ~pain~ can be put on the table as well~.”

“and your also to never EVER show yourself to anyone else. No one must know your here.” qi demanded. “very well.” he agreed. It was honestly a bit shocking for qi to see such a layed back demon be perfectly fine with his demands. He was expecting more arguments for them really, but atleast this made things easier. Though, now, he had to test fate about this by letting the demon go.

“so, if I were say let you go, you wouldn't attack me would you?” he asked.

“hmm depends. I mean I could but such a pretty face like yours i'm not sure I could.” cautious, qi went to his nightstand and picked out the drawer a bottle of holy water. The demon's eyes went wide eyed as a look of fear went through him, catching the other a bit off guard, looking at the bottle before looking at him.

“does this...harm you?” he asked. The male looked at everywhere but him before sighing and nodding. “it's like acid to us.” he confirmed. Qi now felt a bit safer knowing this. Now he had leverage against the other. “okay.” he walked towards the other's location, putting a foot on one of the lines of the pentagram. “i'm letting you free now. No attacking got it?” the other nodded and slowly qi erased a part of it, taking a step back.

The demon than stood up, stretching himself before looking at the other. An odd feeling in the air a mixture of intense and awkward before he stepped out of the pentagram. “guess i'll see you later then priest.” he said turning his back. “wait.” he stopped looking back at the other. “what's your name?” he asked.

The male raised a brow. “for what reason?”

“well your basically gonna be haunting me now so, I mean, I have to call you something besides demon or...whatever disturbing nicknames your into. Just maybe a normal name I can call you by?”

the other was silent for a minute before replying, “liang.”

“liang? qi.” he replied taking his hand out to shake. Liang stared at it as if it was an alien tentacle before awkwardly taking a hold of it.

“qi? Well now I have a name to call out~.” qi's grip on liang's hand tightened around it, warning him. “...for when I need something of course.” he covered. Qi's grip went lacid as they let go. “see you some time, qi~” and with that he disappeared in a flash, throwing qi off guard. He sat on his bed, going through everything that just happened, processing it before a sudden knock came to his door.

“come in.” he called. The door opened and low and behold it was upa in his church boy outfit. It was the weekend so it wasn't all that shocking for him to be here. Seeing him brought a grin to qi's face. “ah upa, come in.” he greeted, gesturing to the other to come in. “i just came up here to tell you breakfast's ready.” the younger stated. Man was he really up and with that incubus for so long he thought.

Upa then looked to the made up pentagram on the floor then back at qi. “did that trap work?” he asked. “yes actually.” qi confirmed. “thank you.”

“so, what did you do with it?” how was qi to approach this question? He replied, “we worked things out and reached a peaceful agreement.” the younger rolled his eyes, feeling that the father was talking about inner demons more than actual ones. “well, whatever. That's good atleast. Now come on, breakfast's getting cold.”

at that the older rose up, reached for and put on his priest outfit, and left with the younger. Making a note to pray extra long and hard today for his protection.

[thesteveyates]

Wykeham-Martin that is.

I was going to call this post “enter the troll-beast” for the many problems that i consistently had with sailing Inanda for the first time.  Some things are clearly not as good as they could be, the sailing ergonomics for example are awful, but a lot of my problems last week simply came down to ‘noob’ error.  Some of you might have the mistaken impression that i am some sort of mega-experienced old salt who can sail anything, anywhere and any time.  Well, although i might in the past have been able to choreograph 26 people on the deck of a maxi doing twin-pole gybes, big spinnaker sets and drops in lots of wind and so on, Inanda has really tested my basic sailing skills and it’s been quite a humbling experience. I guess i have been spoiled by the Liberty which is almost the ultimately simple sailing experience especially given the work i did to make her even easier to sail.

Inanda by comparison is a very physical boat to sail, difficult at times to work on deck, lots of string to pull and adjust and lots of small things that can go wrong during basic sail handling that then cause further problems. In time i would simply adjust and get used to it all but there are some things that really are a problem and need changing as soon as possible.

Just to go back over the details, Inanda is a gaff cutter with a traditionally proportioned mains’l dominant rig.  The rig is relatively short but with a very long gaff and long boom.  Both the boom and the gaff have been extended and as far as i can tell the bowsprit hasn’t been extended to compensate for the extra power high up and further back.  Pete (previous owner) told me that Inanda’s previous owner actually sailed with the first reef tied in most of the time as that balanced the boat better and my experience so far is that this is true. I really only had the full main up once when i was running ‘light’ down the Solent and even then that big main wants to take over and turn the boat up into the wind.   With some form of self-steering or a mate on board i would then have hoisted more grunt up front to re-balance her but didn’t have that option on the trip.  The best and most balanced sailing i had with Inanda was during the long beats in the Thames in fairly consistent wind and little waves when i was able to balance the single reef plus jib and staysail with some degree of weather helm and the tiller pegged. In that state i was able to relax for long enough to do all the other work and not have to attend to the steering.  The polar opposite was after i lost the staysail halyard and couldn’t get the jib to deploy on it’s furling gear with over-riding the drum and had too much wind and chop to deal with….then it became a total pain to handle and increasingly difficult to sail.  The low point was beating out from behind Dungeness point where i just couldn’t get it right….kept getting things wrong during simple sail handling, couldn’t get the jib to deploy, kept having to drop the jib and bring the bowsprit traveller in, lost the staysail halyard and all while pitching into a nasty head sea.  That whole day was just exhausting with problem after problem.  Eventually that day i gave in trying to sail properly and took her down to 3 reefs and let her drive upwind on the engine running hard and the main just pulling.  Her small fuel tank then caught me out and i had to heave-to while i refilled the tank and bled the engine through.

You can see where i had to work to try and sort out the furling gear.

Each part of the rig has caused me problems and i am happy to admit that some of that just comes down to inexperience with the rig but i also want to add that some of it also comes down to the rig design and set-up and specifically the furling gear which i think is a fundamentally badly designed piece of kit. I think that for me everything that could go wrong with the furling gear did go wrong…..from getting the jib wound up with the now-slack forestay (traveller too far forward), not deploying (furling line jumped off drum) furler won’t furl (line off drum again) and so on and so on.                                                        I have never had a Wykeham-Martin furling gear before and never want one again…..this one almost got stowed in the briney when i became ultimately frustrated with it’s troll-like nature.  I did for a while seriously contemplate simply setting the jib flying or even finding a cheap bucket and banding it like a spinnaker. I do know of some quite big gaffers that set flying jibs….i think Pete’s smack works that way for example.  While i was in Newhaven i had a good look at the other small gaffer, which i think is also a Deben, to see his set-up.  He has his jib on a Wykeham Martin out on the bowsprit but doesn’t have a forestay at all so that gets rid of one problem.  I have wondered about doing that with Inanda, clearly it’s the jib luff that is doing the work once it’s under tension.    Just to back-up a bit the handling procedure seems to be :

Roll the sail into a long sausage around it’s wire luff such that there are a couple of turns of sheet around the sausage.

Attach the Jib tack to the bowsprit traveller and the head bearing unit.

Run the WM out on the traveller to a position (critical) out near the end of the bowsprit.

Hoist the sail on it’s wire halyard (it has a rope handling tail) then clip in the handy-billy tensioning tackle , heave that up and cleat that at the mast.

The sail should then deploy by pulling on a sheet although what can happen and frequently did happen is that the furling line either jumped off the drum or over-wrapped and stopped the whole thing working. A couple of times with the jib half-in and half out flogging around my head i had to to a flying drop on the pitching foredeck….not so funny in the conditions i had.

As i say i would probably have been faster and more confident with a flying set and drop especially with a stopped or banded sail.

Looking at the gear closely i think now that it’s an appalling piece of design that could have been made into a much better design years and years ago.  While quite simple it’s obvious that it has a very high possibility of losing the line off the narrow drum and getting itself wrapped around the swivel under the drum…..that is what happened to me several times per hoist.

One time was absolutely maddening :

I was in Ramsgate tied to the visitor pontoon with a big French sailing school yacht just ahead of me.  When i made to leave the skipper kindly came along and asked me if i would like an assist to help me get away.  That was kind because i had to back off into an awkward breeze and then do a reverse and tight turn.  I declined the assist simply because i need to learn how to do it all solo.  Instead i asked the French skipper if he would just ‘watch me out’ in case it all started to go wrong.   The back-off and reverse/turn went ok so i moved off into the outer harbour and came head to wind with the plan to sail smartly out of the harbour.  I had really pre-planned my sail handling moves, got the main up at 2 reefs with just a couple of glitches and then went to deploy the jib so that i could bring the head around.  Of course the furling line jumped the spool and i was left with a half-deployed jib and the boat trying to sail onto the harbour wall.  Instead of a neat bit of solo motor and sail handling it turned into a total farce of having to motor hard to get under control with my mainsheet wrapped around one bit of boat and the jib flogging away rather than pulling me down the fairway.

And of course i had the French sailing school as an audience.

Although completely traditional for this era of boat i feel no great need to stay with kit that is simply crap !, rather i will take from any era of boat technology to make my sail handling simple, safe and effective.  I want to work either from the cockpit or at worst at the mast and not have to try and balance right forward on the bow when i am trying to deploy or furl the jib.  One option as i have described already is to either put the sail in stops or bands and treat it like a spinnaker.  A second option is to look at more modern jib furlers because the tech has improved to such a huge extent with far more boats using sails on furlers….like the big reachers and gennakers on race boats.  I wouldn’t object to having a much better furler and several different headsails….my experience with Inanda so far is that she needs as standard a bigger jib and staysail.

This looks interesting which is why i took a whole series of photographs of it.  This is a powerful looking and very ‘sorted’ looking gaffer called ‘Nomad’ seen in Poole harbour. The rig proportions look much better to begin with, taller mast but with a shorter boom and gaff.  Jib and staysail on modern furlers. Both jib and staysail look longer in the luff. Running backstays and lazy-jacks to keep the mains’l under control.  Obviously it’s a much bigger boat

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So far then….

Inanda’s rig needs several changes to make the sail handling actually work so from forward-aft :

Modern furling unit for the jib/jibs and several different jibs on vectran luffs. Change jib halyard to non-twisty modern line, possibly high-end vectran.  Bring the traveller outhaul back to near the mast and the furler line to near the cockpit.

New long-luff jib with more area.

Sheet doublers to increase the available sheeting power….or a pair of sheet winches.

New staysail on hanks with more area.  Change staysail halyard to 2:1 purchase arrangement.

Mains’l.  Possibly move gooseneck band up mast a couple of inches to improve head clearance at cockpit.  Generally work with 1st reef tied in.  Change throat and peak halyards to better braid on braid and colour-code so that i can always see which is which.  Change all halyard blocks to modern low-friction blocks.    Add lazy jacks port and stbd and lead aft to cockpit.  Change reefing lines.   Replace mainsheet (crusty and worn)

Aft.   Rig running backstays.   Alter sheeting points so that i’m not trying to heave in sheets while leaning over the coaming (bad ergonomics) add 2 pairs of winches : one pair for jib sheets and a pair for running backstays.  Add attachment points aft for runners and rig soft runners from forestay/shrouds point on mast.

Have coffee break….

Sell Wykeham-Martin to some other mug via Ebay……….

  Edit 1.

Ok, lets now design the jib handling system for Inanda

Lets start by getting rid of the outer forestay just like the other Deben at Newhaven has done and keep the bowsprit traveller. Lets add a simple bowsprit downhaul tensioner and have a high-tech bobstay which we can also haul up out of the way to clear the anchor rode.

Instead of the WM lets add in a small Code zero furler with its continuous line going all the way aft.

Instead of the single halyard at hounds height lets have a 2:1 halyard at that height and a second halyard ( 2:1) at the masthead, both with furler swivels already attached. The lower halyard will be the conventional jib halyard and the 2:1 adequate for a decent hoist but not quite good enough for maximum luff tension.  We can now get a longer luffed jib for better balance and better pointing.  To get the tension back we rely on the new running backstays (3:1 + winch) to haul back on the hounds and masthead .  The second, higher,  halyard can now take a bigger overlapping reaching jib or code zero which would also be supported by the top span of a 2 part runner arrangement.

The code zero furler, even a small one, would be a very expensive piece of kit but should be a total solution to headsail furling and crucially get me off the foredeck.  The ability to fly different jibs would be useful, that would mean i could carry a standard jib but which would be longer in the luff than what i have now, and maybe a big reacher.  The stays’l will stay on hanks as that’s the ultimately simple set-up.  Just for giggles i looked at the cost of some of the high-end furlers….crikey !

We need to talk about Martin. Wykeham-Martin that is. I was going to call this post "enter the troll-beast" for the many problems that i consistently had with sailing Inanda for the first time.