#being a previous host who drifts back into front like once every couple of weeks nowadays this is. 😭😭😭😭😭

[nexus-nebulae]

OH MY FUCKING GOD WE JUST FINISHED THE MASSIVE SYSTEM SPREADSHEET LIKE TWO WEEKS AGO WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE ALREADY HAVE 31 NEW MEMBERS?????

[scarabbai]

Dire Crowley is a man hard at work, one who wholeheartedly loves his school and every drop of sweat he’s shed while building, repairing, and maintaining its foundation. The scratch of his quill against parchment, the delicate yet deliberate lines of ink elegantly marking his documents, the low and thoughtful hum in his throat as he taps his claws against the table, all of it demonstrates his complete and utter concentration. New students, returning ones, management, fees, staff—he must keep track of it all, organizing existing assets and ordering whatever will be needed for the coming school year. With his mountain of tasks, he scarcely has the time to do anything, even things as simple as enjoying his afternoon tea! Ah, a true tragedy, but he mustn’t stop toiling away. Night Raven College is his pride and joy, and his continual efforts to care for it shall not cease even for a moment. He is kind, after all.

A knock at the door causes him to pause his writing, his quill suspended in midair as he stills. The wood remains unmoved as a ghost—Sir Mallow, one of his secretaries—phases his head through it. They blink at each other for a moment before the spectre clears his throat.

“Mister Crowley, sir?” Mallow brings the rest of his body inside, drifting into the room and hovering before Dire’s desk. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“A visitor? Asking for a meeting now?”

Dire brings a hand to his chin in consideration.

He doesn’t exactly enjoy being disturbed, especially when focused on such an arduous task, and this is rather sudden and unannounced. An excuse to chat or even stretch his legs a bit would be incredibly nice right about now, but he doesn’t have anything currently at the ready to entertain guests. Additionally, putting something together last minute would be a big hassle and not worth the trouble. Oh, unscheduled visits are such a headache to deal with even if they offer a much desired break from paperwork! It’s unfortunate, but he’ll have to decline.

“As much as I’d like to...” Dire heaves a dramatic, over-the-top sigh. “I’m rather busy at the moment. Could you please tell them to come at a later time?”

Sir Mallow wrings his hands—a habit much of the staff frequently point out—and frowns deeply. “That’s the thing, sir... He’s not taking no for an answer.”

“Hm?” Dire raises an eyebrow. “Who is?”

“One Mister Viper, sir.”

He snaps to attention at once, leaning forward in his chair. “Viper? As in, that Viper?”

Surely it couldn’t be that Mister Viper, meaning the famed noble of the Land of Hot Sands, with great power and even greater riches to his name? Of a family said to be the desendants of one of the Great Seven, the Sorcerer of the Desert himself? The man who recently graced the school with his presence, entering his office covered from head to toe in sparkling gold?

Just a couple weeks ago, Dire met with him to praise the flawless and outstanding performance his son—a quiet, brooding boy who spoke only once and glared viciously throughout the entire meeting—displayed during his entrance examinations. He congratulated him with utmost enthusiasm over his son’s acceptance to the school, expressing his overwhelming joy that the prestigious Viper family would even consider Night Raven College. Insisting the very institution was humbled by the Vipers’ presence, he quietly assured Mister Viper that his son would have been guaranteed a place at Night Raven even if he hadn’t passed. He would do anything to please the head of such an important family, after all.

Now, however, Dire is beginning to doubt the effectiveness of his previous displays of hospitality. Could it be that he upset the Vipers somehow? That would be disastrous! With their reputation and resources, they could easily destroy his school in just a few carefully planned moves. Surely that isn’t the case? Surely it is a mere misunderstanding, and Mister Viper isn’t the one knocking at his door?

Alas... “I believe so, Mister Crowley.”

Dread, cold and deep, crawls inside Dire’s chest. Despite this, he quickly wipes any apprehension from his features, turning his distressed frown into a warm, welcoming smile. After all, a good host never shows disdain in front of guests. Opening his arms with a cheerful and hearty laugh, he exclaims, “Well, why didn’t you say so! Please, let him in at once. We are kind, so we mustn’t keep our guest of honor waiting.”

Sir Mallow bows. “Yes, Crowley sir. Right away.”

The moment the ghost leaves the room, Dire leaps into action.

With a flick of his hand, magic surges outward. Stacks of both finished and unfinished paperwork burst into a flutter and begin to file themselves, sheet by sheet, away inside cabinets. Feather dusters spring to life and clean each and every exposed surface with mighty fervor. His work space rearranges itself, morphing from an office desk to an ornate tea table and placing down comfortable chairs. As he pulls his best tin of tea leaves out of a drawer, the table sets itself with his finest china and polished silverware. He rings the school chef for some refreshments to be prepared as quickly as possible before putting the kettle on and sitting down.

By the time Sir Mallow returns and knocks to announce the arrival of his guest, Dire is already pouring tea into his cup. “Do come in!” he chimes, his expression the epitome of cheer as the door creaks open.

He tries very hard not to go slack jawed in shock when it is not Mister Viper who enters his office—it is Mister Viper’s son!

Such an unexpected turn of events! Dire barely contains his sheer surprise and relief as he motions for the young Viper to take a seat, pouring tea for the young man.

The Viper heir—Jamil, he recalls his name was—carries himself with immense grace and poise as he sits across from him, as expected for someone of his social standing. Dire notes he’s looking much more composed and confident than the last time he saw him, his expression borderlining smug. How odd.

Nevertheless, he smiles brightly. “What a pleasure it is to see you again so soon, young Viper! You gave me quite the surprise, showing up unannounced the way you did. You must be tired from your trip here! Please, do have something to eat.” Dire gestures to the desserts lain out on the table, looking on with a pleased expression as the young man plucks a chocolate truffle from one of the trays. He waits for him to finish snacking on the sweet before continuing, “I must ask, are you here on behalf of your father? As I’m sure you remember, I met with him not long ago! He is a very outstanding and brilliant man, and he has many connections as well, correct? Ah, truly remarkable! Absolutely incredible! You know, I actually heard just last week he–”

“I’m not here to run my father’s errands,” Jamil states rather sharply. “I came here on my own. For my own reasons.”

“Oh!” Dire hadn’t even noticed the boy’s expression souring as he blathered on. Perhaps he hit a nerve. “I see,” he backtracks, toning down his enthusiasm. “Then what has brought you here today, young Viper?”

“I want to make a deal with you.”

“Hm?” Intriguing, but unrealistic. “With all due respect to your title, young Jamil, I don’t think it’s possible for me to–”

Out of thin air, the Viper heir materializes a glittering gold coin in his hand, holding it in front of Dire’s face. It gleams and glows like the sun even in the mediocre lighting of his office, and his eyes can’t help but follow its shiny surface as the coin sways back and forth. Crows adore sparkling trinkets after all, and Dire is no exception. Even as the gold piece is placed on the table, he remains greedily focused on it.

Just as he considers snatching it up for himself, the young man strikes, and the prize disappears back into his hand. He then tauntingly rolls the coin across his knuckles, showing off some sleight of hand and causing three more to appear before all four golden pieces vanish once more.

“Actually,” Jamil’s voice drips with arrogance as he nonchalantly examines his nails, “I think it is possible, Mister Crowley.”

Curse his feathers for being weak to such treasures! His inner crow can never resist such a dazzling gleam, and there might even be greater riches in waiting.

He must, at the very least, hear the offer.

Despite his immense irritation upon seeing the boy’s conceited smirk, Dire folds his hands and remains outwardly civil. “I’m listening.”

The Viper’s victorious grin turns downright egotistical as he sets down seven positively radiant golden discs between them. Pushing the coins toward Dire, he states his order:

“Fetch two files for me. I need records changed, information altered, and details fabricated. I’ll give you a basic story. Make it believable, and forge the evidence to back it up if need be.”

“And,” he silences the complaints on the tip of Dire’s tongue with a raised hand, “I want you to make it untraceable. No proof, no messiness. Like everything’s always been that way.”

The allure of the gold is tempting, but even Dire eyes the little snake and his offerings with suspicion. Such a sudden and specific request, and with so much to it as well! How troublesome. His lips curved downward in the smallest of frowns, he counters, “Now, young Jamil... What, pray tell, gives you the idea that I am capable of doing such things? I am merely the headmaster of a school, you know.”

The boy has the gall to laugh in his face.

With dramatic flourish, Jamil opens his hand to reveal a crisp slip of paper. Holding it up between his fingers, he waves it around in a mocking manner before placing it face down and sliding it across the table.

“See if this will change your mind.”

When Dire picks it up, his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets in shock, and his head spins with the number of zeroes staring him in the face.

Jamil, on the other hand, doesn’t even bat an eyelash as Crowley fusses over the cheque. Instead, he takes a moment to preen and bask in the glory of his success before growing bored, rolling his eyes, and snapping his fingers to get the attention back on him.

“You may be downplaying your talents in an attempt to worm your way out of this, but I know the truth.” He points a finger directly at the headmaster’s face. “You’re a powerful man, Mister Crowley. I’m sure you can figure it out and get the job done.”

The man—fae?—changes his tune quick as he pockets the bribes, becoming pleasant and cheerful once more. “Young Jamil, I will fulfill your request!” he declares in a booming voice. Then, in a much quieter one, he adds, “I shall listen, for I am kind.”

Jamil’s lips curl into a devious smile. Perfect.

“That’s what I thought.” He leans back in his chair. “Now, here’s what I have in mind...”

[jaskiersvalley]

The Mafia AU has caught my imagination a little and it definitely could do with a second part. Special shout out to @ohnomybreadsticks as my partner in crime and @raynalies who got me thinking about an OT3 that I’ve been quietly loving for a while now.

The welcome feast was a bewildering one to say the least. Geralt stuck close to Lambert and Eskel. They helped themselves to food but didn’t break rank, even when others drifted closer to talk. Jaskier in particular seemed keen to talk to them and eventually got them settled, idly nibbling at his remaining gummy rings.

“You’ve met Yennefer, my enforcer,” he said, nodding to the imposing woman who had collected them from the crime scene. “And that’s Cahir, my right hand man.” The man lounging lazily against a wall, eyeing up Lambert and Eskel waved. “Their word is my word. You’d do well to heed their instructions.”

“Especially if I demand you waltz around shirtless,” Yennefer chipped in, tossing up a grape and flicking it through the air with graceful fingers. She squawked indignantly when it was batted back easily by Cahir.

“But yes, while we don’t have a uniform, we do insist on Shirtless Thursdays.”

As much as Jaskier was entertained, he pelted both of them with a bit of bread. “Behave! Both of you.”

While both Yennefer and Cahir pouted, they did tone down their merciless teasing, keeping the most barbed comments directed at each other.

After that first meeting, Jaskier seemed to dress almost sensibly. He was still colourful, bright and over the top but at least there was a little more sense of style and fashion behind his wardrobe choices.

“New stylist?” Geralt asked one afternoon when he had been summoned, by himself, to Jaskier’s little empire.

“Nah,” Jaskier held his arms out and looked at himself critically. “Just don’t need to make an impression now. You’re mine, no need to put on airs and graces.”

The easy way he declared Geralt as his did interesting things to Geralt’s heart. Part of him basked in the idea of belonging. Since Kaer Morhen’s fall, it had been difficult to find his spot in the world.

“How is your old wolf?” Jaskier asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

Truthfully, Vesemir hadn’t been seen in months. The last they’d heard, he was being held hostage by the Cats who were demanding a ransom they could never hope to pay. Not even with taking every job, saving where they could and even resorting to petty crimes like stealing cars to strip down and sell for parts. His silence must had been too telling because Jaskier hummed.

“Who has him?”

“The Cats.”

At least that had a derisive snort coming from Jaskier, “They’ve been a thorn in my side for a while. Take Yennefer and destroy them. Get your papa wolf home.”

Much to Geralt’s surprise, Cahir was next to Yennefer, eyes dark with the promise of violence. It seemed odd that he could be there too but the more people who knew their way around the more brutal side of things with a little finesse.

It was just the five of them. Somehow, Yennefer had been able to find out where they were holding Vesemir and a whole host of other information that would only help them. Infiltrating the block of flats the Cats had claimed was surprisingly easy. They moved through the floors, Lambert out front, reckless as usual. It almost got him into trouble on the fifth floor. The previous floor had already been cleared in a short but ferocious scuffle. It had them all baying for more blood and Lambert was throwing caution to the wind. Which was his downfall and Geralt was too far away to help, as was Eskel who looked pained at the realisation. They didn’t expect the idiot looming over Lambert to suddenly clutch at his throat, knife sticking out. From the side, Cahir stood up, tucking a couple more throwing knives back into their place. There was blood pouring from a wound in his hairline but Geralt had never seen him look more vicious. Or happy for that matter.

They managed to find Vesemir who was in surprisingly good condition compared to expectations. He grumbled a little about his wolves selling out to Jaskier but once he was shown the hospitality of the mob, he was a little less disgruntled.

“When did tall and lanky throw his lot in with Lambert and Eskel?” he asked Geralt when it was just the two of them in the room. Which was a very confusing question and Geralt just stared, not understanding. “I mean-” Vesemir sighed, obviously despairing, “-when did they become a trio?”

More silence and Geralt scratched his head.

“Don’t tell me you never noticed. Lambert and Eskel? Always together, sharing clothes, food off each other’s plates, always turning up together. Geralt, are you really this dim, my boy?”

It seemed that indeed, Geralt was that dumb. He had his suspicions about Cahir but had been distrusting because he seemed to be playing with both Lambert’s and Eskel’s affections. Now that made a lot more sense.

“Next you’ll be telling be I haven’t realised someone is chasing me.” It was a joke, Geralt had meant it as self-deprecating humour but somehow it fell flat. Because, as his luck would have it, Jaskier was sidling up to him a short week later.

There were questions about Geralt settling into his new hierarchy, whether he needed anything and the like. Which was nice but Geralt didn’t understand why he head of the mob would be making a personal house call. Unless he was there for something more. Truly, Geralt was an idiot for not noticing sooner.

With that little issue cleared up, Geralt found himself with Jaskier more often than not. And, on the periphery, he often saw Cahir, Lambert and Eskel, usually lounging in a loose pile of limbs and looking very bored in meetings. Why they seemed to be able to slack off while Geralt had to sit by Jaskier like some prized trophy was beyond him. At least, until he realised he was allowed to chip in an help negotiate or threaten. It was much more effective if he glowered and growled in sharp contrast to Jaskier’s cheerful chatter. The amount the man talked was stunning.

Really, Geralt didn’t even realise that he’d become stupidly domestic with the head of the mob. To him, Jaskier was a chattering, optimistic fool who he had seen with pillow creases on his face and hair an absolute bird’s nest. It was only when there was talk of some ball or other that Geralt realised he’d been an unassuming fool yet again.

“You’ll be publicly declared as mine,” Jaskier said, showing Geralt the plans. “Would you object? Being a head of the mafia’s sweetheart.”

Truthfully, no, Geralt didn’t object. He quite liked the idea of sitting on a leather armchair next to Jaskier’s. There was only one request he had. While Jaskier’s was a dark leather, imposing and a stark contrast to his bright personality, Geralt wanted something light. It tickled him to no end that despite appearances, he was the one who was lighter because he knew that no matter what Jaskier said, one didn’t become the head of the most influential underground organisation by luck and charm. There was definitely some dark things in Jaskier’s past.

The ball itself was a bit boring in Geralt’s opinion. He sat on his armchair, fingers linked with Jaskier’s while various gangs approached with news, pledges and offers. It meant though that Geralt had time to scan the room and found Cahir, flanked by Lambert and Eskel, all three of them quietly matching in their suits with red pocket squares. Catching Vesemir’s eye in the crowd, Geralt had the grace to nod and look sheepish. Even if he was the sweetheart of the mafia’s head, he was still an idiot.

[ahgasescenarios]

A Fortunate Encounter- Doyoung Tattoo Artist! Au

Word count: 6.1k

Genre: Angst/fluff

Plot summary: (Y/N) is from a wealthy family while he works as a tattoo artist. When they cross paths, will they remain strangers or will they find themselves drawn to each other?

A/N: So I got this idea out of the blue and I could really picture it so I hope you guys enjoy! I literally wrote this until 3 in the morning because I was so inspired. I put a lot of work into this scenario and I'm so happy that you guys liked the teaser so much! Hopefully this will be up to par and thank you to everyone who reads my stories once again, I love you all so much(: Let me know if you'd like to see me do more of these long scenarios 

Ever since you were little, you had been told what to do- just like everyone else. You had been taught what was considered good and bad and had behaved accordingly. When you misbehaved, you were punished and when you behaved well, you were rewarded. It had been that way all of your life, society acting as a dictator.

Your entourage had taught you what to wear to be considered sophisticated, how to act around others, and so on. Being born into a wealthy family had its advantages, but people expected so much of you- to the point where it exhausted you both mentally and physically at times.

Just like today. You were sitting on a luxurious couch, staring into space and only vaguely making out your frantic mother's silhouette. She rummaged through your closet in search of the perfect outfit for the night. After groans and scoffs of desperation, she finally settled on a black gown. It was gorgeous, just like everything else in the humongous walk-in closet. You couldn't take pride in saying you had exquisite taste in clothes, as your mother was responsible for your wardrobe. The top of the dress was embroidered with lace and the gown pooled at your ankles in an elegant trail.

Your mother was hosting another one of her gatherings and as always, everything had to be perfect. She made some final touches to your look: adding some hue to your cheeks, making sure your hair had enough volume and tying a pearl necklace around your neck so you represented the family's fortune.

Before you knew it, you were descending the stairs with everyone's gaze fixated on your figure. You smiled shyly, introducing yourself to the select few people you actually were acquainted with. The only instructions you had to follow for this kind of event were simple, "Smile and look pretty." That was all that was asked of you. Most nights you were fine with it, but you weren't much in the mood for it all tonight.

You did have one person who always managed to lift your spirits though and he was coming your way.

"(Y/N), as dashing as always."

He kneeled, pressing his lips to your hand. He was wearing a brand new tuxedo, probably custom-made by the family tailor that same day. His red hair was slicked back which gave him a more mature allure despite his young age.

Although it looked like you two were a couple, Taeyong and yourself were merely friends. Both born in rich families, you had bonded over countless mandatory family dinners, golf tournaments, charity events, and more. You had been playful, teasing even at a young age but you grew on each other and matured together. The two of you had the same view of your reality, feeling as though all the money in the world could never guarantee anyone's happiness.

He scanned your face and in an instant knew exactly what was going through your head. He knew you like the back of his hand after all, of course, he would see right through you at a time like this.

"Wanna get out of here?"

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You looked up to the model-like man before you and nodded in approval

"I thought you'd never ask."

He took your hand in his and dragged you along to the exit, in an effort to escape people's lingering stares. You giggled and followed in his footsteps until you were met with the cold outside breeze.

You looked up, noticing how endless stars decorated the beautiful night sky. Night had always been your favorite time of day, a time where you didn't have to put on a façade but one where you could feel- something you apparently weren't allowed to do normally.

You lowered your gaze, taking in every detail of your surroundings. You had a pretty good view of the city from this high up. You observed the row of Victorian houses in the distance and tried to fathom from afar what normal life was like.

"You wanna go?" Taeyong asked, motioning to the town before the two of you.

You nodded with a smile on your face.

"I often wonder what it's like to live in this part of town." 

Taeyong muttered, hands in his pockets as you walked the streets of the quaint town.

"Me too, Tae. It seems other-worldly even."

He nodded his head, agreeing with you silently. The shops around you were all closed at this time of night and you sighed, feeling like you needed a spoonful of reality. The walk was silent but not in an uncomfortable kind of way, both parties lost in thought. A ringing sound broke the calm atmosphere.

"Baby, what's up?" Taeyong answered. "Wait- right now? Okay, okay, I'm on my way. Be there in a few."

His gaze shifted towards you, a helpless look draped over his delicate features.

"It's okay, go. I'll be fine."

"Thanks, I'll make it up to you."

He hugged you briefly before going back to his car. Girlfriend emergency, you figured. You couldn't blame him for having a girlfriend, you were actually happy for him. It sucked that he didn't spend as much time with you as before, but you understood. Although sometimes, you wished you had a special someone to share everything with as well.

You kept on walking down the usually jampacked street, taking the time to admire the charm of each little boutique. It was getting chilly out, but you didn't mind. A certain shop caught your eye, as it was the only one with lights still on at this hour. You picked up your pace until you were standing in front of it. Your eyes were met with a neon sign reading Black Lotus Tattoos. Your gaze immediately drifted inside the shop, checking out the place from where you were standing. It was pretty empty, but it seemed like it would be a lively place typically.

Your eyes landed on one tattoo artist tending to a client. His black hair was pushed back in a failed attempt to keep it out of his face. Tattoos adorned his arms, each one more fascinating than the previous. You had never seen anyone with tattoos before, but somehow you knew you wouldn't be seeing the last of this man. He seemed so enthralled in his work, his eyes squinting in concentration.

You must've been staring at him for quite some time because he had just finished his client's tattoo by the time you snapped out of your daydreaming. They were most, fortunately, discussing something funny since a big smile made its way to the mysterious tattooer's face. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight. You had never seen someone so handsome, and that was saying a lot considering the people you were constantly around.

Before you could protest, your feet led you inside.

"Can I help you?"

He quirked one of his eyebrows at you, silently judging your choice of attire for this kind of place.

"Are you gonna say something or is that something stuck-up princesses like you don't know how to do?"

You opened your mouth in shock. You stood there baffled, no one had ever talked to you so rudely before.

"Uh- sorry, I- uh, I'll just leave then. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

You mumbled an apology, too unsettled to say anything else. You bowed your head at him before scurrying out. The boy watched you walk away while shaking his head. Everyone in town knew about the rich families who lived "above" them, in every sense of the word. No one in town could stand those families; they were greedy and hostile which didn't have its place in such a homey village.

Rudeness was not something you were familiar with. Your family's influence and power were intimidating enough for people to think twice about their actions. Yet, this particular guy did not care at all. And secretly, you admired that about him because "not caring" wasn't even an option for you in the world you lived in.

  You didn't return to the shop until weeks later, too anxious to confront what scared you most: normality. We were all scared of the unknown after all. You also feared the handsome tattoo artist's smoldering gaze. But your curiosity had gotten the best of you so you decided to go back- for a reason this time. And yes - you guessed it - you had decided to get a tattoo. You had already done your fair share of research online so you knew precisely what you were getting yourself into - you had read enough worst-case scenarios to know how to take care of the new addition to your body.

You ransacked your entire closet in search of any regular clothes. Your mom didn't let you keep many "poor people clothes" as she called them, in a firm belief that you had to reflect what you were (more like how much money you had) in every aspect of your life. You finally came across a pale green sweater and worn-out shorts but decided that they would do regardless. You slipped into your favorite pair of boots (which your mom never let you wear) and grabbed a backpack before heading out.

The shop was within walking distance, but it was still a long walk. You hummed as you walked, finding the weather to be especially pleasant today.

You took a deep breath before entering the shop. A faint part of you wanted him to have the day off, but there he was in all his glory. His smile faded when he saw you, excusing himself from the conversation he was currently having. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn't find you beautiful, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

"Well, well, look who has returned."

You caught a glimpse of his name tag. Doyoung was his name. It suited him, you thought. You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"Look, I didn't come here to cause you any trouble. I know people like me aren't particularly welcome here but I just want a tattoo. And I have a name you know, it's (Y/N)."

"Fine, then. Anything in mind?"

You browsed through their catalog for a few minutes, Doyoung growing impatient by the minute. You made your way over to Doyoung shortly with the binder still in hand.

"I want this rose on my left ankle. And this wave on the right side of my ribcage. Can you do that?"

He widened his eyes.

"Of course I can do it." He scoffed, "Any color you wanna add?"

"No thank you, just black will do."

He laughed at your politeness, something he wasn't used to in his line of work. He came back a few moments later with the necessary equipment in his hands. He prepped his station while you looked around nervously. You knew it would hurt at least a little - or like hell if you trusted what people said on Yahoo! -, but you were still scared. You had never been too keen on anything requiring needles and you were doubting your decision to come here just a little.

Doyoung motioned for you to get closer and you approached hesitantly. You were shaking, your heart beating out of your chest. You positioned yourself on the chair, shifting uncomfortably now and again.

"Can you stop fidgeting please?"

He looked at you with annoyance clear in his eyes.

"Sorry. Uh- is this going to hurt a lot?"

You muttered. A small smile tugged at his lips as he understood what was going on. It wasn't the first time a client was scared of the pain the needle would inflict.

"It'll be over before you know it, I promise."

It felt weird for kind words to leave his mouth, but you just nodded frantically in response. You were anxious to get this over with. To think you'd go to these lengths just to see him again. He got to work, placing a hand on your waist to steady himself while he worked. Goosebumps formed on your waist at the spot. You had never reacted that way to a guy's touch but shrugged it off regardless. It was probably the nerves talking.  

He was right, it was over before you knew it. He handed you a mirror, showing you the results. You smiled in delight. Even if they were small and discreet tattoos, they still caught the eye which was exactly what you were going for. You made your way to the cashier happily.

You had one thing left to do before leaving. You spotted Doyoung and walked over to him, successfully capturing his attention.

"Listen, uh, I know you think I'm just a spoiled brat and what I'm about to do probably won't help change your mind, but I just hope you can see that I'm far from being one. I don't especially like living in luxury, for what it's worth."

With that, you shoved a hundred-dollar bill in his pocket and walked away. Doyoung stood there in shock. He had always thought negatively about the upper class, but maybe you were actually one of the good ones.

  Your parents never noticed the addition of ink to your body, much to your relief. You didn't regret it, but they would make sure you did if they ever found out. You were currently enjoying some much needed alone time when you heard a knock at your door. Weird, you thought. People didn't usually knock since it was such a big house- who would hear it? You hurried to open it, your jaw dropping when you saw the person before you.

"Doyoung, what are you-"

"I wanted to apologize for acting like such a jerk. You didn't do anything to deserve that, and I'm sorry. Do you think we can start over?"

You were too stunned to speak. It took your brain a few moments to function properly again.

"Sure. It's okay, don't worry. Happens all the time."

"Let me make it up to you, over coffee maybe?"

He took you by surprise once again and you accepted the offer. You invited him in since you had to change out of your pajamas. You tied your hair in a high ponytail, putting together an outfit in record time.

You found Doyoung admiring a painting hung in your living room.

"It's an original. Do you like art?"

"I'm an artist, of course, I do." He laughed, making you laugh as well.

He brought you to his favorite coffee shop and you had to agree with him. The place was remote, but the moment you stepped in you were met with friendly faces and delicious aromas. Your coffee tasted amazing and you could tell by the taste that the owners ground their own coffee beans.

"By the way, how did you know where I lived?" You asked, the question having been on your mind ever since he crossed the threshold.

"It's a small town. Plus, there aren't a lot of houses up there."

Your lips curled up into a smile at the thought of the young man asking around about you. You made conversation for a little while, going through the basics. What your childhood was like, what school you went to, your major in college and your favorite things in life. And then came the inevitable question.

"What's it like to be rich?" He asked with hesitance laced in his voice.

He didn't expect to hear that it was so lonely and demanding, that was for sure. He listened to you carefully, hanging on to your every word. And that's how it was for a few hours. You got to know the mysterious tattoo artist who was actually studying to make his dream a reality. Opening an art gallery, becoming a renowned artist. Doyoung had ambition, something you lacked yourself. Working as a tattoo artist made his artistic juices flow in the meantime, you learned.

You actually had a lot in common with Doyoung, despite coming from two completely different backgrounds. You enjoyed his company so much that you found yourself pouting as he walked you home.

You came to a halt when you faced your doorstep. You exchanged phone numbers before he bid you goodbye, waving from where he stood.

  Laying on your bed, you recalled your time with Doyoung. It was the first time you had hung out with someone from the "outside world" in a while and you were happy you two got off to a good start. Maybe a normal friendship was what you needed in your life right now. You smiled to yourself, playing with your hair absentmindedly until fingers poked your side repetitively.

"Hey, what's up with you? In love or something?"

Taeyong rolled his eyes, abandoning the idea of you ever listening to what he was trying to say beforehand.

"No, nothing like that. I've just made a friend, a normal one."

"Oooh, tell me about her then!"

"Him, actually. His name's Doyoung and he works at a tattoo shop on the street we walked together that one time."

"Oh, I see how it is. You've got the hots for him."

Taeyong teased.

"I do not!"

"Liar."

You chased after him, set on making him think twice about teasing you.

  You saw Doyoung again a few days later, this time for a meal at some local restaurant. The more you got to know him, the more you realized that despite his cold exterior, he was a really sweet guy.

"Is it hard to have friends in your situation?"

His question took you by surprise, it wasn't often that people asked you about your feelings.

"Well, yes since I don't go to school, but I do have a best friend whom I share everything with. He's kinda all I've got."

You laughed lightly.

"Nonsense, you've got me too now."

He winked playfully, making your heart stop for a nanosecond. His beauty never ceased to unsettle you in the subtlest of ways.

  Hanging out with Doyoung soon became a regular thing. You shared the same passion for music as well as art, and so much more. You had never been this close to someone who your parents didn't "approve" of and it honestly felt refreshing. You'd visit him at the tattoo shop often and admire his passion for his work from a distance. Whenever he had a day off, you would see each other whether it be for a walk in the park, going to the movies, or chilling at his place. You had grown quite close in those weeks and so, you figured it was about time that your two favorite people met.

So here you were in Taeyong and Doyoung's company, talking about this and that. They had hit it off from the getgo, both noticing the antique car parked in the driveway of the café. Apparently, it was one of a kind. You had proceeded to find a table while Doyoung took care of ordering the drinks for everyone. Taeyong had leaned over and whispered in your ear.

"I like him."

You had talked for hours and shared countless anecdotes (most of which were embarrassing for yourself). You were happy that the two most important guys in your life got along, you would even go as far as to say that it was a relief.

  The next Saturday, your parents decided to host a charity event to raise awareness for one of the same old causes: helping the poor, protecting the environment, making the world a better place allegedly. You weren't too psyched about it, especially since you didn't think your folks would let you invite Doyoung given the importance of the event. You had still tried, though.

"Mom, can I talk to you for a second?"

"What is it? I have a lot to do, make it quick."

"Uh, can I have a plus one for the event?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Make sure to share the dress code, I can't have anyone looking homeless."

She shivered at the thought. She was too busy to pay attention to you, as always. Her agreeing was not something you expected, though. You invited Doyoung nonetheless to which he confirmed mere minutes later. You smiled thinking about how full of surprises the day had revealed itself to be.

Said guest arrived a few hours before the official time, wanting to spend some time with you beforehand. He showed up in a fitted tux, his sleeves rolled up so the average person could catch a glimpse of his numerous tattoos.

"Earth to (Y/N). Hello?"

You hadn't realized you were staring until he waved a hand in front of your face. You felt a blush creep to your cheeks and just smiled to disguise it.

You laid next to Doyoung on your king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling mindlessly. Your eyelids were starting to droop before Doyoung spoke up.

"You know, before I met you, I thought all rich people were the same. Brats, greedy, arrogant. But you've proven me wrong and I'm honestly happy you did."

"Wow, where is this coming from?"

You answered, trying to mask your giddiness.

"I don't know, I'm just glad I met you I guess."

"You guess, huh? How convincing."

You laughed. He rolled his eyes, used to your behavior by now.  A maid entered the room shortly after as if to make sure that your happiness was short-lived. She handed you the dress you were going to wear for the night. It was a sparkly one this time, with Valentino written all over it- figuratively speaking.

Doyoung waited downstairs while you got ready, recognizing Taeyong in the foyer. He approached the young man and the pair exchanged a polite greeting.

"I know we get along and all, but if you hurt her, I swear I'll kill you."

Doyoung's brows knitted in confusion.

"What-"

Before he could finish his sentence, his gaze was directed elsewhere. You were now standing right in front of the two boys in your carefully-selected Valentino dress.

"What are we talking about?"

You looked at the both of them inquisitively.

"You look beautiful, (Y/N)."

The comment left Doyoung's mouth almost without him realizing it. You blushed at the comment.You uttered a faint "thank you" under your breath.

People started arriving shortly after, filling your house to capacity. You had greeted some people, but couldn't for the life of you find the hosts. Precisely at that moment, the lights turned off all at once and music started playing. A spotlight lit up the area where they were standing, waiting for everyone's attention to be redirected to them. Of course, they were going to make a grand entrance, you thought.

After a useless speech on how it was important to give back to the community - because everyone knew that the rich only attended these events to feel good about themselves -, you made your way over to the waiter whisking away a flute of champagne.

A hand grabbed your arm forcefully, almost making you drop your glass.

"Who the hell is that, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"

Your mother stood in fury before you, pointing to where Doyoung was sitting.

"My plus one, his name is-"

"I don't care what his name is, young lady! I will not let you disgrace this family. Tell him to leave and you are never to see him again after that."

"But Mom-"

"No! Or you go with him."

You were taken aback by her cruel words. Would she really disown you just because you were friends with a commoner? You knew your mother cared about her image, but this was crossing the line. And it wasn't the first time that she had been this mean to you, which only added fuel to the flame. Regardless, you were too upset to stay in the same room with her.

You tugged at Doyoung's arm who understood by your facial expression that something had gone haywire. He let you drag him out of there, walking until you felt like you were far enough from that house and everything it represented. You halted and tears started forming in your eyes, your hand moving to cover your mouth as you exploded in sobs. Doyoung pulled you against him, caressing your hair as you cried it all out.

It took you a while to get back to your senses, wiping your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears.

"My mom's horrible, Doyoung. She threatened to disown me if I didn't kick you out."

He thought for a moment to process what you had just said.

"Why didn't you though?" He frowned in confusion.

"Why didn't I what?"

"Kick me out."

"You're my friend, I would never do something like that to someone I care about. Unlike my mother."

You looked down, feeling the tears form in the corner of your eyes once more. Seeing this, Doyoung brought you in for a hug.

"It's okay, I'm here."

He rested his head on top of yours, giving you all the time you needed. You broke away from the hug as you felt the tears come to a stop. His thumb wiped the remainder of your tears away and he smiled, still cupping your face. Staring into his eyes, you felt safe.

"Doyoung, do you mind if I sleep over at your place tonight? I don't really want to go back there."

"Of course."

He took off his jacket and draped it across your shoulders, holding you against him while you walked towards his car. The small gesture made your heart flutter for some reason.

You were exhausted when you arrived at your destination. Crying was very draining, both for the mind and the body, you concluded. You began walking towards the couch when Doyoung took ahold of your wrist to stop you.

"No, no, no, I'll take the couch. You can take my bed tonight."

"But-"

"There's always a but with you, isn't there? You don't need to worry tonight, okay? Just take my bed and sleep it off."

He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

You mirrored the action, nodding in defeat. He handed you some of his clothes to sleep in. You changed and hopped into bed, wanting nothing more than to relish in the comfort of a warm bed.

You tossed and turned for a while, feeling quite guilty about stealing his bed away from him. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and walked over to where he was supposedly sleeping.

"Doyoung."

"Hmmm?"

He opened an eye.

"There's enough room in your bed for the both of us, come on."

He mumbled something under his breath. You could only make out "Bed, for, you".

"I know you'll wake up with a sore back if you sleep on the couch, Doyoung."

He groaned because he knew you were right. You put a pillow between the two of you and fell asleep in a heartbeat.

  The sun rays shone through the curtains, making you squint your eyes. You woke up with heavy eyelids, still feeling quite tired. Your head fell to the side, expecting to land on a pillow- which did not happen to be the case. Your eyes widened when you saw the position you were in. Doyoung was sleeping on his back, an arm wrapped securely around your waist. Your head was on his chest and your legs were entangled with his. Oh god, you thought. How were you going to explain this? Did friends even cuddle? A thousand questions starting running through your head before you decided to do something about it.

You got up, limb by limb so you wouldn't wake him and tiptoed to the kitchen. You decided to make breakfast as a way to repay him for being there for you the day before.

Doyoung woke up while you were preparing the pancake mix,  smelling the food from his bed. He looked over to where you had previously been, smirking as he remembered how you had cuddled up to him in the middle of the night.

"Something smells good."

You jumped in surprise, not expecting to see him there.

"I sure hope so, I'm making pancakes."

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day apparently."

He chuckled, taking a seat at the counter. You finished making breakfast and the both of you enjoyed it in silence. He made a few comments about the food here and there, making you blush in the process. You had never been one to get flustered easily, but you found yourself blushing often when you were with him.  

You decided to go back home, even if you weren't ready to confront your mother just yet. You had probably made everyone worry, something you had never taken pleasure in. You thanked Doyoung for everything again, giving him a hug before leaving.

You took a deep breath as you stood before the familiar surroundings. You had never really found any comfort in the mansion you lived in, the place was never a home to you despite having lived there all your life. Any minute now, you would have to face your mother's wrath and saying you were dreading it would clearly be an understatement. You hated her outbursts, but most importantly, you hated that you could never stand up for yourself.  

The door swung open, revealing one of your nervous maids. She sighed in relief when she saw you- having had to deal with your ballistic mother for the last 24 hours. You apologized for your absence, knowing it must've been hard for the poor maid to calm your lunatic of a mother. You gathered all your courage and spoke up so your voice resonated in the empty foyer.

"I'm home."

Your father was probably at work by now, but you knew for a fact that your mother would be home. She didn't have a job, so she basked in her luxurious surroundings day after day. She planned events now and again, but it wasn't like there were a lot of them to be held. It must get boring to stay home and do nothing every day, you thought suddenly feeling a sort of empathy towards your mother.

She wrapped her silk robe around her slim figure before making her way to the foyer. She had too much pride to admit that she had missed her daughter, especially after what she had done. Honor was of utmost importance, especially when it came to your family.

"You have no idea how disappointed I am with you, (Y/N). First, you disrespect your family by bringing a hobo into our home, and then you go and run off with him. What do you think that says about our family? Do you know how humiliated I was? I had to come up with an excuse on the spot again and frankly, I am tired of having to do that for you! "

She was still mad, as predicted. She seemed more resigned than the previous day though.

"You know what mom? Screw that. You don't have to care about what I do all the time, isn't that what freedom is all about? Oh wait, I don't have any! No one cares about our stupid family reputation but you. We're respectable enough as is, we don't need to justify our every move. And you know why you care so much? Because you have nothing else to do. You don't have anything to occupy your time, you just sit here all day doing who knows what!"

"And now you're talking back to your own mother? What has gotten into you!"

You were so engrossed in your argument that none of you heard the door open.  

"Is this because of that boy you've been spending time with? What has he said to you? I knew I should've gotten involved sooner, look at what he's done to you! Can't you see that he's a bad influence, just like all the others?"

"Don't you dare pin this on him. This has nothing to do with him and quite frankly, I'm glad I met him."

 She gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

"He's made me happier in the last few months than you have in my entire life! Did you think that having me cooped up in this prison that you call a house would make me happy? Well, think again, because I'm not you. I know how desperately you want me to be, but I'm not. To be honest, I don't care what you think of him. I don't need your permission for anything anymore, Mom. And as my mother, you should be happy that I've met someone like him."

"I don't know who you are anymore."

You let out a chuckle, utterly discouraged.

"I'm not gonna apologize for falling in love with him because you know what? I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry that spending time with him has made me notice all the small things in life. I'm not sorry that he's made me feel things I didn't know I could feel. Most importantly, I'm not sorry that he feels more like family than you ever will. If you still want to disown me after this, I'm not stopping you. There's nothing holding me back anymore."

You shook your head in a mixture of pride and sadness. You had stood up to your mother for the first time in your life and yet she still didn't understand.

You had never identified your feelings for Doyoung before that fight, the truth coming out on its own accord. You did notice some details when you were around him like how your heart would beat faster when he touched you, how happy you felt when he was around, and more. You had never realized it was love because truthfully, you had never been in love before.

You left the house as fast as was humanly possible but a hand grabbing your wrist prevented you from doing just that. You turned around, not quite sure who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't who you were met with. Doyoung stared at you quizzically, his lips parted as though he was still in shock about something. You walked out in a hurry, him trailing behind you.

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it, actually."

"Oh god."

You heard yourself say out loud. You ran your hands through your hair in disbelief. Just when you were sure the day couldn't get any worse, this had to happen. The universe really was out to get you.

"Did you mean it?" He asked.

You pondered the question for a short while. If you agreed, everything would change and probably not for the best. You wanted to deny it so badly, but you owed him the truth.

"Yeah, I did."

You looked down and bit your lip as you waited for him to reject you.

"Good."

You raised your head in confusion.

"Because I'm not sorry that I fell in love with you either."

And with that, he pulled your face towards his in a heated kiss. You moved your lips slowly against his, deepening the kiss. He bit your lip before releasing your lips. You smiled before pulling him in for another kiss. It was slower this time, expressing all the pent-up feelings you've felt for each other all those months. By the time you broke away from each other, the both of you were out of breath.

He held out his hand invitingly which you gladly took. He led you to his car, his hand resting on your thigh as he drove. His touch comforted you and ignited something in you all at once.

You were in his apartment in no time, his lips finding yours again. Your hands found his hair -which was just as soft as you had imagined it to be- and his grabbed your waist firmly. He trailed down, giving your ass a squeeze. You gasped at the new feeling, granting him access to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

He guided you to his room, making you giggle when you knocked over some foreign objects. He closed the door with his foot, leading you to his bed.

"Are you sure about this, baby?"

"Yes."

And that's all it took for Doyoung to show you how he felt about you on a deeper, more intimate level. You wouldn't come to regret the events of that night, quite the opposite actually. You felt things you had never felt before with Doyoung and you knew this was only the beginning.

As you cuddled up to him that night, you were convinced that there was more to family than just the link that bonded people with the same blood together. Family was a feeling. The feeling of being loved and having a home, that's what family was all about. You felt safe and alive with Doyoung. And somehow, he simply felt like home.

Masterlist (in case you guys want to check out my other stuff)

[riverofmemoriesft]

. The Game of Life . 5

Full Summary: “You’re new here, so I’ll explain the rules once.  Winners get one lash, losers die.  It’s quite simple. The last one standing gets no lash.  We do one game a day here and you live as long as you can stand it.  If you somehow miraculously try to get away, I kill you.  It’s quite simple really.”

Pairings: Natsu x Lucy, Gajeel x Levy

Warnings: This really isn’t a fic for sensitive readers.  Mentions of suicide, descriptive gore, the likes.  It’s rated M, my friends.

Wendy was inconsolable, but Natsu really couldn't blame her. She kept close to Gajeel, dark eyes haunted and her fingers tangled in his shirt as he worked around her to search the area. Gajeel kept a close eye on her, a silent conversation between the dragon slayers - and that included Sabertooth's, as they'd arrived in the night and early morning - ordering them all to watch her.

When he'd first heard that the body of a blonde woman had been found, Natsu's heart had skipped a beat and he'd nearly imploded in his desperation to make sure that it wasn't her. He had been relieved to discover that he didn't know the young woman with platinum hair and missing eyes. The officials had used the stash of belongings to identify her and contact her parents.

Wendy had been the one to stumble across the body on her way to the guildhall. She'd been skipping streets by passing through alleys and had quite literally tripped over it. According to Charle, Wendy had screamed and screamed, catching the attention of the inhabitants of the nearest buildings, who'd come running to investigate. Someone had thought to contact Fairy Tail as well as the officials, and it was currently Gajeel who was watching over her.

"You're right," Sting muttered as he appeared beside Natsu. He wrinkled his nose. "You can't detect anything. They have no scent." He ran his tongue over his teeth. "Sometimes if you lick the right thing you can catch it that way, but-"

"You did not lick a dead person," Rogue said with a look of disgust as he glared at his partner.

"No, I didn't," Sting huffed, scowling. "I think I know better than to lick the dead. Poor girl." He gave the body bag being pulled past them a sympathetic look. "She didn't deserve that."

"It's brutal," Rogue said quietly in agreement and they all nodded.

Her tongue had been swollen and seared from the brand placed upon it, dried tear tracks and blood caking her face, empty eye sockets telling them where the blood came from. Bloodied lash marks had been cut across her back, bruises at her throat speaking of how she'd died.

"And Lucy and Levy are in this man's grasp?"

"Mhm," Natsu said dully, scowling. He shook his head, running a hand tiredly down his face. Nightmares from the death of a future version of his partner had plagued him. And this time, Lucy hadn't been there to reassure him. It had made him even more aware than he'd been beforehand of the fact that she was gone.

"How long has this been going on?" Sting planted his hands on his hips. "Look. I can't hang around for too long, but I want to help. Lucy's a friend of Yukino's, and I don't want her to suffer any more than she suffered at the hands of Sabertooth's previous guildmaster. And it would hurt her a lot if Lucy was hurt."

"And we're grateful for your help, Sting," Mirajane said gently as she brushed past, heading for Gajeel and Wendy.

"Very grateful," Juvia agreed as she appeared with Gray at her side. Her hand loosely clasped Gray's wrist, but he didn't seem to mind her keeping that close. "Juvia thinks the disappearances started a couple months ago. He waited until he had a certain number of victims before beginning his killing."

"Lamia Scale's member went missing a month or two ago," Gray offered. "The murders started just a week ago with this one. One a day."

"Why are we assuming that Lamia Scale's mage has something to do with this?" Gajeel grunted as he approached, freed of watching Wendy.

"Her possessions were among the others," Gray explained quickly and then turned to Rogue. "Can you find out anything from shadows around the area? Could you find anything odd that we wouldn't have noticed on a regular basis?"

"Perhaps," he said slowly. "I'll look around Magnolia when noon comes. It's when the shadows that don't belong are most noticeable."

"Thanks," he sighed. He glanced at Juvia, who informed them that she'd gone through the canals and had found all of the girls' clothing but had found nothing else. "I think this bastard is in it for the thrill of killing and nothing else," he admitted. "And torturing," he added as an afterthought.

"They haven't been involved with anything suspicious, so the victims are chosen off the street at random," Sting said with a thoughtful expression. His sharp blue eyes darted to Natsu. "He has to have known their living patterns. Does he stalk them before he takes them, maybe?"

"Possible," Natsu said slowly. He thought over it. "We didn't see anything strange before everything picked up, but with what Yukino said about a shadow outside of Lucy's place, it wouldn't surprise me." He tugged the scarf from his mouth. "I took a look again. There was nothin' different."

"We'll look there anyways," Rogue murmured. "If we find anything strange, we will inform you."

"Thanks." Natsu watched as the Twin Dragons of Sabertooth left, heads bent together as they chatted about where to go from this point.

"It's nice of them to help," Juvia said softly, her lips pressed together anxiously. "But Juvia doesn't think they'll find anything that we haven't."

"Neither do I," Gray admitted.

Grunting, Gajeel turned to Juvia and said, "C'mon, water woman. You've been out since early searchin' the canal, and I know ya get tired from drawing yourself together after that big of a spread."

"Okay." Juvia patted Gray's hand with a smile and he gave her a long look that had her promising, "Juvia will be careful. Juvia will have Gajeel to watch out for crazy killers."

"Be careful anyways. With our luck, you'll be snatched out right from under his nose."

When the time came once more to play a game, Lucy wore a grim look. Ivy had kept that scratched word on her arm hidden whenever Simon came down, her eyes determined. She'd made sure to keep it small and on the inside of her upper arm, where it was less likely to be noticed.

The cuffs clicked off as Simon descended. Lucy drifted over to Levy, who took her hand and squeezed. She could feel Levy trembling. It was unlikely they'd get away with both of them not receiving lashes this night, but she would sacrifice her back for Levy.

Levy was strong, but Lucy wasn't sure her small body would hold up against the leather whip she'd been gifted by Loke…

Thinking of her Spirit brought tears to her eyes. Tears that she pushed back. She couldn't show weakness, not in front of this bastard!

Levy moved to stand close to her, brushing against her, and Lucy could see her shiver once more. She was cold, Lucy realized, whether from fear or something else, she wasn't sure. Lucy took a deep breath and then focused as Ivy stood, helping the shaking Maria. Maria was so scared she couldn't seem to gather her legs beneath her. Ayako was silent, staring Simon down when he looked her way from beneath his eyelashes.

Suddenly, he clapped, "I want to play a trivia game and since we're so involved with mages," he paused to look at Ayako, Lucy, and Levy, "We'll use knowledge on magic to see who wins. If that is alright with you lovely ladies, of course."

No one said a word.

He ordered them to line up and then caressed the whip that he pulled from his belt. Lucy didn't think she'd ever be able to use the whip again. "For every one you get wrong, you get lashed...hm, how many questions shall we do...there's five of you now…" He gave them a long look. "Let's go twenty four questions. We'll start with Maria...you're the one who's been here third longest, hm? The first question is this: name the top three guilds in Fiore, starting with third place."

Maria's lips trembled. "Lamia Scale. Second place is Sabertooth. First is Fairy Tail."

Lucy thanked the popularity of the Grand Magic Games.

"Number two. Miss Heartfilia," he said as he turned to her next. "What sort of magic does the guildmasters of those three guilds possess?"

"Makarov Dreyar of Fairy Tail uses giant magic. Ooba Babasaama of Lamia Scale uses spinning magic, and Sting Eucliffe of Sabertooth uses white dragon slayer magic."

"Good," Simon praised. Levy was next, and the solid-script mage, who was an endless source of information, answered correctly. When it got to Ivy, however, Lucy clenched her jaw. "What is the true names of the Twin Dragons of Sabertooth and the Sky Sorceress, Black Steel, and Salamander of Fairy Tail?"

'Salamander' struck a chord in Lucy's heart and she wanted to cry. She missed her ever cheerful companion with all of her heart. She remembered shrugging his overheated self away with annoyance and regretted it, now longing to feel such heat once again. She could name every single one of them. By the look on Ivy's face, she could, too.

"The Twin Dragons are Sting Eucliffe and Rogue Cheney," Ivy said thickly. Lucy wondered why all of the questions seemed to be more focused on the dragon slayers. Did he have something against them? Obsess over them? "Salamander is Natsu Dragneel, the fire dragon slayer. Black Steel Gajeel." Now, she pretended to falter, her eyes widening in false alarm. Simon leaned forward eagerly, as if he didn't recognize that she was faking.

"I don't know," Ivy whispered.

Lucy flinched as she cried out when the whip struck her, leaving a bloodied welt on her belly. She touched the spot with a sob, tears boiling over.

Maria moved to comfort her, but Simon snarled, "Don't move from your spots!"

Maria froze.

"Ayako," he continued, turning to her. She lifted her chin. "What guild specializes in hosting women?"

"Mermaid Heel," she said coldly.

"Correct."

It went on like this for a ridiculous amount of time and when it was over, Lucy wasn't surprised that Levy was the winner. Ivy had purposely lost and her lips trembled as Simon performed the lashings on them. Levy was sent aside, Ayako and Maria taking theirs with muffled sounds.

Lucy gasped. The one mistake she'd made had earned her a lash, but this...he'd clearly not used his full strength. When she received this lash, it was as if he'd used every ounce of strength in his arm and she cried out, legs giving out. She hit the ground on her knees, blood trickling down her spine from where the flesh had been flayed open. Tears finally rolled down her cheeks, her head spinning and hands shaking.

She barely noticed when Ivy was dragged kicking and screaming from the basement. She had accepted her death, but in no way was she going without a fight. Even if one of them got away, it was better than none. If they got away alive, they would know where the victims were kept.

But Lucy had the feeling they wouldn't get lucky.

At least they wouldn't be without a clue, though.

"Lucy?" Levy said a few hours later, when Simon had returned, made sure they were cuffed once more, and returned to the main part of his home. She glanced over, biting her lip when it tugged awkwardly at the lash on her back. She was surprised to find that Levy was heaving for air, her face streaked with tears. Ayako and Maria were asleep, neither daring to not rest before they were forced to continue the next day.

"Levy?" Lucy said softly. "What's wrong?" She wanted to smack herself. As if she didn't know what was wrong!

Levy gave a sob, her body shaking with the force of it. "I want to go home! I want to wake up and go to the guildhall! I want to find Droy and Jet fighting to get my attention, and I want Gajeel there to insult them! I want Lily to keep my lap warm! I want to hear Gray and Natsu fighting, and Erza stopping them, and I want to take jobs to stop bad people and help innocent! I want to hug Master and…Gajeel to..." She choked off, unable to finish, and gave a little wail that was quiet enough that it wouldn't get Simon's attention. "I want to go home, Lucy! I just want to go home."

Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat. "Natsu will be looking for me," she said fiercely. "Just as I'm sure Gajeel's running himself ragged to find you. Nothing escapes a dragon slayer, Levy. Nothing. They will find us."

But even to her, it didn't sound convincing.

[papermoth-bird-blog]

Ontario: Catching up with time.

There is a scene in Big Fish, in which Edward, the main character, explains the old cliche “Time freezes when you meet the love of your life”. He muses further, saying “what they don’t tell you is that it has a nasty habit of speeding up after, to make up for lost time”. Being one of my favourite films, I think of this moment often… and often find that it appears in similar ways in my life.

It happened first in Mexico. I looked at a calendar and found myself more than halfway through my trip. Of course, it is a glass half-full, half-empty situation. But time is like water, the more we cling to it, the more it slips through our fingers. The only way to enjoy it, is to jump in- head underwater, for as long as you can. The times I checked my watch, a calendar, it was like taking breaths- necessary, but also stole those moments of subversive bliss. The more I breathed, the more I wanted to never leave the moment. And with that, my writing practice faltered too.

For the sake of my future self, who undoubtedly as just as flimsy as a memory of myself at the present, I find it important to reflect on the two weeks that have flickered by since the last I wrote. They are mostly about Ontario, even though I find myself currently in Amsterdam (with an ever-expanding mind-ramble).

So I shall start where I left off:

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When it comes to my own story, I doubt there is anyone that is more surprised by my path as myself. The biggest part of healing my emotional wounds came in the form of delicately unraveling my own narrative. Re-evaluating what I gripped onto as “me” or what I “like” or, more so what I didn’t. Toronto cleansed me in that sense, freeing myself of my ego, and changing my mind, about how much change within a person is really possible. (I, others, the “stationary” memories I had of this city previous to this visit).

I found myself reflected back to me in different facets of the city- version that I recognized, but abstracted from the forms I thought I knew. I lingered around Kensington market, more times than I expected too. On the first few days I did so, I took my brother out to help him pick out shoes & new clothes. He is a senior in high school now. As we shifted through clothes on the rack, I found my mind flickering with memories of myself in the same spot, at the same age. I remembered how I felt & thought. Those parts still sit in my mind, but like some strange film that I once acted in. I am not ashamed or disappointed, in anyway, of the teenager I was. I am, very glad to be changed now- by experiences both bright & darker. The ghosts of my former selves followed me throughout the city- and then the countryside.

Though I really wanted to go see Homeshake with my brother, I decided to let him go with his friend instead. I remember Ali & I going to every concert we could get our hands on in high school. Though Isaac doesn’t seem to get into much trouble, I figure it best to at least give him the opportunity to if he feels the need ever. So I stayed at home and chatted with my mom about ordinary things. While we spoke, I cuddled up to our (now quite elderly) dog Harley. My overalls quickly became covered in blonde retriever hair, which I have not yet been able to get all off. As I drifted to sleep on the dog bed, my mother & I mused about the day we adopted him. How strange it is, that that was 13 (nearly 14) years ago now.

I often borrowed my mother’s red flannel hunting jacket, as I was without a coat & Toronto was still to host a few more light snowstorms. As I didn’t actually experience much of ‘true’ winter, I was glad to see the snow. I could tell those that had been in the city over the winter, were quite finished with it.

Though I grew up there, I always feel at a loss for who to reach out to when I am in town. I’ve fallen out of touch with many of my old friends there- mostly because many of my friends were friends of circumstance, and without our shared context, there is not much tying us together in conversation. Toronto, in my mind, was always more about family than friends. That being said, I did hang out with a few friends in the city.

I even hung out with an old lover of mine. There was a funny tension certainly, but it was a pretty nice hangout. Mostly, he just showed me around his studio space & all the projects he’d been working on since we last saw each other a couple years ago. It was nice to see a friendly face, especially a friend that could remind me of who I am in my adult life. We talked about a lot of things, but one that we shared is that we were both processing deaths of people close to us. It was nice to talk about, not that I needed more people to talk about it with, more so, because it gave me a huge sense of perspective. I was able to witness how far I’ve come in grounding & processing those deaths.

The days following, I found myself deep in introspection. My Aunt Jeannie is a ceramic artist & she invited me to play around in her studio to keep her company. I was more than happy to keep her company. With a head so full of thoughts, it was nice to able to translate them into molded forms. I built pots & bowls for my new apartment, and less practical things too. I built lace- inspired vases to host dried flowers in the fall. And most excitingly, many faces & hands that I hope to make into dolls when I am able to finally get them to Halifax. It was nice to spend one on one time with Jeannie as well- family gatherings can quickly become so loud & hectic; it’s hard to have a properly threaded conversation.

When I got home, my brother & I had our picture taken (quite formally) by my mom. It was kind of goofy, but nice. I’m starting to realize how important it is to actively capture memories (with a memory like mine)- yes, in ways, it’s true, it is kind of an act of “un-presencing”, but one for posterity’s sake. In a way though, also helps celebrate the present.

After another long day at the studio, I did end up making plans with another friend of mine. I met my friend Rachelle at work, but we have quite a bit in common. She just moved to the city from Halifax to pursue a career in Costume design- which is actually what I was studying when I first moved to Halifax. I did my best to help give her insight into Toronto, and what area she should look at moving to. We met up in the west end- the area that she was looking at. A friend of my sister’s, Eliza Nemi, just put out a really awesome EP called ‘Vinegar’. Eliza was playing a show at the Monarch Tavern with another friend of a friend called Luka. I’ve loved his music for so long- His song ‘Oh my heart is full’ is one that is pretty permanently stuck in my head.

Being at the show was, again, strange but lovely. A space between two worlds. Two different versions of my own past, combined. It was very quiet at first, but that made it easier to find Rachelle, who had brought along her friend Jaya. A few other girls from costume studies met up with us & it quickly became a conversation exclusively about that. I honestly didn’t mind, because by that time many people rolled into the room. There were, surprisingly enough, a whole bunch of familiar faces from my Halifax world. I chatted with my sister’s friend Nicholas, then Peter. Not long into it, I also spotted my friend Allie, who I haven’t seen since university. It was nice seeing everyone, but I also found myself seeking moments alone, to just feel the music & keep my own company. Eliza’s set was as if an elf had come experience city life. Before her, was another talented female songwriter Le Ren- who did some country-pop tunes that I was actually very impressed by.

During the tail end of Eliza’s set, I pushed my way towards the bar to grab a glass of water. There was a woman in front of me who, herself, was getting a glass. She spun around to offer me the pitcher. It was quite comical how we both did an over-dramatic triple-take. She shouted over the music “I know you! I know your hair. How do I know you?” I have always been rather good at names and faces- and it didn’t take long for me to shuffle through circumstances to figure where she fit in. Last fall, she had come down to play a house show in Lunenburg with an old boyfriend of mine. We quickly fell into conversation & she told me she was about to leave to go on tour with Tim Baker & invited me to the show they are playing in Halifax. I do hope I am able to go, but I am unsure of the timing & how that will work with my schedule. Regardless, its funny circumstances like that that give me comfort in the workings of this tiny world we have. (something I have been learning A LOT about recently).

There were more familiar faces still lingering around the bar- but I felt it was the time to leave, so I did. It’s good I did too- because, as it happens, I somehow drained both my prestopasses without realizing. By sheer dumb-luck, or rather a startling act of kindness I’ve never experienced in Toronto, the bus driver just waved me in the street car without any form of payment. I’m not entirely sure why, but I didn’t ask questions and ran to the back to make myself as small as possible- as if hiding in case he changed his mind.

I was quite tired by that point, and missed my stop somehow.

By time I found myself getting off the bus I was terribly impatient to be home and so I ran the rest of the way. This impatience echoed the feeling I was getting about the city itself- a general restlessness. As if I had come to the city to accomplish something, despite me not being specifically clear what that was. These thoughts raced through my mind as I ran down the dark of the avenue I grew up on. I lay on my parent’s front porch for a moment to still my mind & heart. When I walked through the door, my brother was sitting on the velvet couch singing a song that was so familiar I teared up instantly.

As kids, my cousins, siblings & I watched the movie Dan in Real Life whenever we had the chance- and notably on every thanksgiving since it was released. Sondre Lerche wrote the soundtrack, and we’ve listened to the album more times than I could possibly count.  So, my brother sat and played ‘Modern Nature’ over and over throughout the evening. We worked on harmonies until the early morning hours. It was so lovely to work creatively with my brother in that way. It is not often we find moments to do so.

The following day, Isaac played in the New Orleans Jazz band at Massey Hall. Regrettably, I missed it, because Morgan had finally charged his phone. Which meant he called me & came to whisk me off to the woods of Willow Beach, Ontario. An adventure, I was eager to fall into, though it would have certainly been nice to see Isaac perform once more.

[themusicenthusiast]

Saturday, November 17th, 2018 – Legacy Hall’s One-year Anniversary Concludes with a Topnotch Performance from The O’s

Photos by Jordan Buford Photography It was a landmark weekend for Legacy Hall, as the food hall located in the Legacy West district of Plano was celebrating its one-year anniversary. It has quickly built up a clientele in that time, serving as a great hangout for friends and a paradise for foodies; the outdoor patio area known as the Box Garden that opened back in the spring further diversifying the venue by hosting a few free concerts per week. And to celebrate their first full year in business they had gone all out, picking some excellent talent to grace the stage, from promising up and coming talent from D-FW to more well known acts. (Jaret Reddick of Bowling for Soup had performed a solo set on Thursday, with Robert Randolph & The Family Band keeping the party going on Friday.) And closing out the three-day celebration was possibly the greatest duo that resides in North Texas: The O’s. 2018 has been more of a quiet year for the group, John Pedigo and Taylor Young exploring some side ventures, while still teaming up here and there to perform the various favorite songs spawned from their four studio albums. And this anniversary party at Legacy Hall was as excellent an occasion as any for them to do so. As darkness fell, so, too, did the temperatures, the cold front that was moving into the area growing more noticeable. Still, it was far from the bitter cold that had plagued North Texas earlier in the week; and it certainly didn’t deter any patrons. Few seemed like they were at the Box Garden solely for the music. Rather, the tables were packed with people enjoying some of the food the various vendors had to offer, while a few kids ran around or drew in the sand; that family-friendly atmosphere being one of the most irresistible things about the Box Garden. Nevertheless, there were some people anxious to hear more music, eagerly looking on as Pedigo and Young set up their gear.

The pair hit the stage shortly before nine that night, setting things in motion at 8:51 with “Sunshine”. It was the first of many cuts that would be heard from 2011’s Between the Two, the gentler love song being a perfect opener, given the particular audience they had this night. It was an ideal one to use to ease people into the show. Pure folksy Americana, the steady tempo that track boasts was compelling enough without them seeming too overbearing right out of the gate; Pedigo dabbling on his pedal steel guitar as he alternated between it and the banjo, while also handling the lead vocals. “…We’re from just a hop, skip and a jump down the street…” Young remarked afterwards as they proceeded to dole out the dry, witty and at times somewhat offbeat humor that defines a O’s performance. Pedigo concurred with that. “…But I didn’t hop or skip here tonight…” he added; their delivery of their banter being precise and something that can’t fully be appreciated unless you witness it firsthand. Early on the songs frequently alternated between who was at the helm, Young taking up the duty of lead vocalist on “Found the One”. It was a nice progression from that first one, as they became a little more assertive; the beat from the kick drum that Young was also operating being more pronounced than it had been just moments before, the track growing in urgency as they attempted to tighten the hold they had on the spectators.

“That song is called ‘Found the One’ and in parentheses ‘Happy anniversary Legacy Hall’!” Young jokingly informed everyone after. That led to some disbelief, Pedigo swearing that the place had been around longer than one year, declaring it an “institution” of Plano. “I need to move in here,” he soon remarked, as if thinking out loud. Later dialogue would shift to the converted shipping containers that house the outdoor restaurants, how great for sleeping those must be and pondering the amenities that come with living there – or at least in the apartments nearby. Afterwards, they struck with the lead track from 2013’s Thunderdog, the anthemic “Outlaw”. It’s one of The O’s songs that fully demonstrates just how far a two-man band can go, the simple mix of a banjo and acoustic guitar being pushed to the limit, rivaling that of an outfit with two to three times the members. A hint of rock ‘n’ roll bleeds through during the fleeting moments the banjo is distorted due to the use of a pedal, the fuzzed out, gritty quality it yields adding immensely to the emotional depths that it mines. Pedigo was fully invested in it as he passionately belted out numerous lines; the song still standing as pertinent as ever in regards to reshaping the society we live in. “Medicine” demonstrated the harmonies the duo is capable of, Pedigo chiming in with Young at every turn. “I thought someone was singing karaoke, then I looked over and it was you singing,” Young quipped afterwards, eliciting a chuckle from his band mate.

They continued to tear through their 95-minute long set, from more delicate numbers to one’s that demand you stomp your foot along with the beat, and plenty more jokes thrown in for good measure. They even managed to reference a joke from the movie Spaceballs at one point, Pedigo quickly adding that he liked to date himself before proceeding to list of various other ‘80s era films. However, what was perhaps the most entertaining moment transpired in the closing moments of “Go with Me”. Young looked rather stoic, albeit caught in a trance as he gazed into the distance, while Pedigo rushed towards the edge of the stage, removing his cap in the process and waving it in the air. “Don’t you hate when you’re doing a rock pose and then you just zone out?” asked Young afterwards, Pedigo replying that he was testing out his country pose. “It works better in arenas,” he said rather matter-of-factly.

That would become an ongoing gag throughout the remainder of the set, Pedigo’s move becoming a little more exaggerated each time, and thus, more hilarious. On a couple occasions they even ventured back to their nearly ten-year old debut record, including the staple “You've Got Your Heart”. “That’s classic award-winning us…” Pedigo said afterwards, commenting on the track that gorgeously captures what it’s like to be enamored with someone, depicting a love that’s new and pure. Apart from a slew of originals, they did work in a cover song in the form of “Bowling Green”. Originally done by The Everly Brothers, The O’s imbue it with their qualities, keeping the infectious tempo intact, while some grit was thrown in thanks to Young’s delivery; their rendition overall being a spellbinding and energetic piece that set up the homestretch of their performance nicely. The best had been saved for last. “In Numbers We Survive” got underway with an extended harmonica solo – stretched out over a couple of minutes or so; that song bleeding seamlessly into “Pushin Along”. There was an excellent duality between it and their closer, “Pushin Along” evoking a melancholic mood, the song lyrically drifting into the territory of love reaching a conclusion, though fighting for it every step of the way.

As it ended Pedigo once again rushed towards the edge of the stage, swiftly taking off his hat and swinging it into the air. He probably did that a couple times before finally deducing what the problem might have been. “…I may need a cowboy hat,” he remarked, throwing in a nice plug for a fellow Dallas musician by saying, “I look stupid wearing this Joshua Ray Walker hat.” They kicked it into overdrive with “Everything's Alright”, the blistering speed being infectious and leading to a few more patrons making their way up towards the stage. “I got a feeling everything’s alright!” It was near impossible for that chipper refrain to not resonate with you, the enthusiasm and conviction behind it practically assuring a person that there could be nothing but smooth sailing ahead. With one final declaration of “We are The O’s” Young and Pedigo took their leave, disappearing into the green room after wrapping up a three-day long party in sensational fashion.

The O’s have a brilliant kind of chemistry, Young and Pedigo having a robust skill set – musically speaking -- wielding it exceptionally well. That extends to the impeccable rapport they have with one another, constantly working off what the other is doing, be it in terms of music or even the banter that fills in the gaps between songs. To be a two-piece band you’d pretty much have to be in order to offset what could potentially be lacking, and in their case they’ve honed their abilities over the near decade they’ve been a band to the point that their a well-oiled machine. They’re storytellers in the purest sense, each song being an intimate display of thoughts and emotions; their brand of humor splicing in an appealing quirkiness to their performances – something that’s refreshing. All of that is what has made The O’s one of the more compelling bands in the North Texas music scene and a must-see. I hadn’t seen them in a while, and I’ll be honest in confessing that – even though it was infrequently – I had seen them enough over the previous couple of years that the shows began to seem identical. Granted, those were supporting shows where they had a brief amount of time to work with. But this night all of that had been long enough ago that it was just enjoyable to hear everything they did once more, and they even dug out some older stuff. (At one point, Young stated that the forthcoming song was one they had forgotten they had done and upon rediscovering it decided to put it back in the live shows.) The duo brought their A-game and then some to their show at the Box Garden, capping off Legacy Hall’s one-year anniversary quite superbly. Keep an eye on their FACEBOOK page for info on other upcoming shows; and you can find their music in iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY. Set List: 1) “Sunshine” 2) “Found the One” 3) “Outlaw” 4) “Medicine” 5) “You Are the Light” 6) “Go with Me” 7) “Fourteen Days” 8) “Lighten the Load” 9) “You've Got Your Heart” 10) “Finding it Hard” 11) “Tennessee Coalminer” 12) “Bowling Green” (The Everly Brothers cover) 13) “Brand New Start” 14) 15) “We'll Go Walkin'” 16) “In Numbers We Survive” 17) “Pushin Along” 18) “Everything's Alright”

[travelinglifeshighways]

Glacier National Park & Livingston, Montana

Glacier National Park

& Livingston, Montana

Saturday - Sunday, August 11 -12, 2018

Smoky, 82°

 “Before Alaska came along and ruined everything, one of every twenty-five square miles in America was Montanan.  This much space has nurtured a healthy Cult of Place in which people find perfection, even divinity in the landscape.” (Ellen Meloy)

 Saturday - Before leaving the Golf Course RV Park, laundry was done, oil added to the RV and in about an hour we would be at the border crossing on Highway 93 in Roosville, Montana.  Border crossings can be fun or a little annoying depending on how crowded or the moods of the border patrol officers working at the time.

This little back road entry into the United States was not crowded but watching the vehicle in front go through the passport procedure gave a little hint as what was to come.  The couple in the car in front of the RV, after giving their passports to the patrol officer, was asked to get out of their vehicle and go inside for further examination.  After several minutes, the man came out and moved his vehicle so we could pass through.

 The patrol officer asked the usual questions, “How long have you been in Canada?”  “Do you have more than ten thousand dollars in the vehicle?”  Are you carrying any fruits, vegetables, or other agricultural products?”  The answers were, “about a week, I wish I had ten grand, and no.”  The officer explained that the couple in front was pulled inside for a random inspection but since they had other issues the random inspection would go to the RV instead.

 He took the passports; off inside we went and after about 10 minutes another officer came over and would go out to the RV to inspect it.  I had put a bundle of firewood in the shower to keep it dry and looking at the border crossing from Alaska into Canada there was about a cord of fire wood in “camping bundles” off to the side so I figured this time the firewood would be grabbed up by the officer.  He came aboard, looked into the refrigerator and found two and a half lemons there.  This was forbidden fruit, even though it was purchased in Alaska, he had to confiscate it.  Oh no, contraband being brought in the United States.  They were bought to help my throat irritation from all the fire smoke.  Lemon and honey plus maybe some Jim Beam to help soothe that crappy feeling over the last several months was what the hot toddy was going to be used for.

 After the identity check and confiscation of the wayward fruit we were allowed to enter the USA! 

Welcome to the USA Sign - Simple but True

 It was about time after this forty five minute pause in the drive.  Down the road a way was the beautiful little community of Whitefish.  There were several deer grazing in people’s yards and the road through town was filled with people doing their Saturday chores.  The town has a rustic feel to it, much like Jackson, Wyoming, with its old style buildings.  There was a fire truck with firemen collecting money for the Muscular Dystrophy Association for the upcoming Labor Day drive.  This would be another beautiful place to live with a population of only about 6,500 people.

 We were heading to Glacier National Park to Apgar campground, a first come, first served facility which fills up quickly each morning.  Arriving just at eleven o’clock the board at the Park’s entrance still showed campsites available. 

 Glacier National Park Sign

 It took only a couple minutes to drive into the campground but the camp host said that the last spot was just taken minutes ago so there was no room anywhere in Glacier National Park to spend the night.  The smoke was really bad and we could only see Lake McDonald through a fuzzy bluish-white haze.  The mountains with the glaciers were not visible and were covered by the smoke that drifted everywhere.  It was lunch time so a picnic by the lake was in order.  After lunch, a drive along the lake revealed a black bear and several deer wandering the campground.

 Deer in Campground

 It would have been nice to spend the night but it was time to head toward the next bucket list place and cut down on some of that drive tomorrow.  Heading out from Glacier was Flathead Lake where I wanted to drive along the west side on a major highway south.  Missing a turn somewhere, we ended up on a small country road on the east side of the lake.  This whole area was filled with cherry groves and small roadside stands selling fresh, off the tree cherries.  Another unexpected find and the cherries were great, large Rainier cherries.

 South on highway 93 was the National Bison Range, it was debated whether to turn down an old dirt road to see if there were any bison but decided not to as there were still many miles to go.  Where the highway hits the town of Ravalli, coming over the hill and down a long incline were several herds of bison off to the west. 

 Bison off the roadway

It was another pretty amazing sight, seeing these ancient animals grazing or waddling in the dirt.  It would be several more hours before stopping for the night in a small town called Deer Lodge, Montana.

The city is perhaps best known as the home of the Montana State Prison, a major local employer.  The Montana State Hospital in Warm Springs, and former state tuberculosis sanitarium in nearby Galen are the result of the power the western part of the state held over Montana at statehood due to the copper and mineral wealth in that area.  Deer Lodge was also once an important railroad town, serving as a division headquarters for the Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Paul and Pacific Railroad ("the Milwaukee Road") before the railroad's local abandonment in 1980.

The current Montana State Prison occupies a campus 3.5 miles west of town.  The former prison site, at the south end of Deer Lodge's Main Street, is now the Old Prison Museum.  In addition to a former cell-block building, the museum complex includes a theater, antique and automobile museums, and a former Milwaukee Road "Little Joe" electric locomotive.

 Deer Lodge is also the location of Grant-Kohrs Ranch National Historic Site, dedicated to the interpretation of the frontier cattle ranching era.  This site was the home of Conrad Kohrs, one of the famous "Cattle Kings" of Montana whose land holdings once stretched over a million acres of Montana, Wyoming, and Alberta, Canada.  The Grant-Kohrs ranch was built in 1862 by Johnny Grant, a Scottish/French/Metis fur-trader and trapper who encouraged his people to settle in Deer Lodge because of its pleasant climate and large areas of bunch grass prairie, ideal for raising cattle and horses.  The city's name derives from a geological formation known as Warm Springs Mound which contained natural saline that made for a natural salt lick for the local deer population; the protected valley in which Deer Lodge is located was where most of the local wildlife would winter as the temperatures lowered in the high country. (Wikipedia)

We pulled into the small KOA campground as the sun was setting.  It cast a warm, red glow on the western horizon toward Warm Springs Mound.  The other campers were sitting by their fires but after the long day of driving, it was time for dinner and off for some much needed sleep.

Sunday – It would be another long day driving across Montana.   As I was doing my routine of disconnecting the water, power, and sewer, I saw that the thread was showing on the driver side front tire.  This was not good as there have been over 18,000 miles on this trip and whatever was on the tires when the RV was purchased.  It is Sunday morning, in the middle of nowhere USA, and all of the tire stores are closed today.   

It was only about fifty or sixty miles to Butte, so hopefully, we could find something open on a Sunday and replace the tire.  It was a slow careful drive into Butte and hopefully, this Montana town would have something open.  There was a large Walmart with an automotive section that was open so we spent the day there getting two new front tires.  The young guy helping check me in looked at the tires, said the rig was out of alignment causing the excessive ware on one side of the tires.  He had replacement tires but thought he would have to put the new tires on the rear of the RV and swap out the rear ones to the front.  After checking, he decided to put the new ones on the front since the rear wheels have dual tires on each side.

It was going to take several hours to get to the RV ready so it gave us an opportunity to buy groceries, get a pedicure, and hang out for lunch while the vehicle was being readied.  One stop shopping for all your needs at Walmart.  There were even a couple of overnight campers Boondocking in the parking lot.  It was about four in the afternoon when the tire change was finished.  Finally, it was time to hit the highway towards Bozeman and another “hot springs” campground. 

Calling ahead, we found the campground was full so it was time to adapt, overcome the obstacle and find another campground for the night.  On a previous trip, I remembered another KOA campground just past Livingston, Montana on the way to the north entrance to Yellowstone National Park.  So, it was time to drive there for the night.

While driving towards Livingston, I remembered a dream from the night before.  It was weird and funny and came to me out of nowhere.  I was checking into a camp ground and the camp host was “Jerry Lewis”.  He was the airline pilot, “Captain Eddie” from “The Family Jewels” complete with the funny looking mustache.  After getting set up at the campsite another “Jerry” came by to show me how to start a campfire.  This one was “Skylock”, the Sherlock Holmes style detective with glasses and bushy mustache.  He went around placing kindling and haphazardly threw logs in the fire pit.  Once that was done, he threw gasoline all over the logs and lit it causing a huge explosion and fire.  His eyebrows and mustache were singed off as he excitedly said what a great fire he started.  I’m not sure what brought this dream on but could only figure that driving through Whitefish, seeing the fireman with the MDA boot must have triggered something from long ago.

 We checked in just before sundown.  While taking a walk, I started up a conversation with another veteran staying there.  He and his wife were staying in one of the “Kamping Kabins®” that KOA offers.  They were with another couple riding their motorcycles through Yellowstone and that part of Montana.  Each year, they pick a place and do a road trip.  They camp in the cabins and ride each day to see what the area has to offer.  A walk down to the Yellowstone River as the sun was setting was a nice way to end another day on the road while Traveling Life’s Highways.