#but there's an ongoing joke that everyone assumes he's chinese

[mjjune]

for the oc name ask game: danny!

Ah, yes, the ever-elusive 5000 year old vampire from somewhere ambiguous in Asia. How did that guy get named Danny?

Well, long story, so I'll put it under the cut~

So when I first invented Danny, in 2019, I actually shopped him around a bit and did some roleplaying with him—this was back when I was still actively doing forum rps, which I haven't done since then—and originally, he was from a specific dynasty in China. So, I began looking up ancient Chinese-based names. Even if I never used it in the rp itself, I thought I would have it for my own backstory of him.

I don't remember the specifics, but I came across an old surname Lu and I was going through Chinese characters for his given name that had to do with sun/dawn meanings (because a vampire with a sun name is fun) and one of those characters, if pronounced in today's version of Mandarin using Pinyin, was spelled "Dan."

This of course would be pronounced with a long "a" sound like "don", but regardless, he was called Dan for a while. Over time, I found that his closest companions called him Danny.

Even though he changed a LOT between the rp and actually writing avof, the name Danny stuck and I couldn't wrap my head around changing it. That's just... who he is. Regardless of his thousands of other identities he's taken on, Danny is the one he considers the closest to him and only people who really know him use it.

PLEASE NOTE—Danny is not Chinese in AVOF. This original form of Danny was very different, he wasn't genderqueer, he was a hell of a lot younger, the vampire lore as different, he was from a specific Chinese historical time period, and he was actually quite bitter in an Old and Tired™ kinda way. Other than basic physical features and some sarcasm, there is nothing similar between them, but this is where the name Danny came from.

[petetoms]

Every new year I think about how it might be nice to return to the salad days of blogging a little about things I’m watching or reading. Then I slip into the part of my seasonal depression where I’m rarely not lying on the floor until April and my thoughts of blogs turn to thoughts of our bad world, my lifetime of numerous regrets, how tired I am all the time, raccoon liberation, and my increasing understanding of the villainous characters from sci-fi literature who are trying to Freejack younger bods.

So while I doubt this will be an ongoing concern, here’s some bloggin:

CRAWL (2019)

Two things I would’ve put into this movie about two people hiding behind a sort of pipe fence from the alligators that are in their basement and want to bite them is a scene where they hear an unusual page turning sound and slowly realize that a gator is reading a how-to plumbing book and they have to escape before it gets to the chapter about removing pipes. And I would’ve had the gators, as a last resort, throw their gator eggs through the pipe fence, and as they break, baby gators would hatch and attack.

I was not exactly rooting for the alligators while watching this movie, I guess I just feel they could’ve tried harder.

THE PROFESSIONALS (1966)

This is kind of like SUICIDE SQUAD with aged western hunks. So like Burt Lancaster is Harley Quinn and uh, Jack Palance is the Joker* (I don’t really remember anything about the Suicide Squad movie at this point other than the couple that sat next to me when I saw it in the theater sang and danced to every song on the soundtrack and I now - perhaps totally unfairly- think of the two of them as the audience that all contemporary pop culture is geared towards).

There’s a lot of really good tough guy one liners in this movie. To the point where I imagined the anxiety I would feel if I was one of the professionals and had to talk knowing that all the other pros would have a cool comeback.

Me: Good night, Lee Marvin.

Lee Marvin: Nothing good about it.

Me to me: Damn he got me again.

*I realized after writing this that Palance is killed by the Joker in the Tim Burton Batman movie, so I apologize for making this joke.

DETECTIVE COMICS 339 (1965)

This comic has the same plot and many of the same layouts as one of Jiro Kuwata’s Batman stories and I’m assuming one is an adaptation of the other, though the laziest possible Google search doesn’t tell me which one came first.

A scientist feels bad that he grew up wimpy and boring so he builds a machine that gives him the traits of animals for a limited time so that he can become tough and interesting like your average animal. It’s all good when he gets like the flying powers of an eagle or the cool vibes of a snake, but when he gets the strength of an ape, the ape also gets the scientist’s intelligence and declares war on humanity. Kuwata’s story is longer and spends a lot of time on the ape’s motivations and ends with Robin being like “If I was an ape, I’d also want to get revenge on humanity.” So it’s much better, but this one ends with Batman saying that they’re going to send the ape to live in the jungle so he can hang out with other apes and the scientist is like “I wish I could get sent to a human jungle where other humans would be forced to hang out with me,” which is also a pretty good ending.

The most interesting thing about this is seeing how both artists interpreted the same material and it made me wish that every single Batman comic was just an adaption of this story.

THE PUNISHER LIBRARY

http://stanleylieber.com/2019/12/21/0/

IP MAN 4: THE FINALE (2019)

I went to go see the new Terrence Malick movie (I will possibly never get over the blurb on the Instagram ad I saw for it that said, “CINEMA AT IT’S MIGHTIEST AND HOLIEST. A MOVIE YOU ENTER LIKE A CATHEDRAL OF THE SENSES,” because it’s like something Dracula would say and you’d be like “Take it easy, Dracula. This is dramatic even for you”), but I was already feeling very sad and was nervous it would make me even sadder. So when I saw that Ip Man was playing, I decided to watch that instead. Then it opens with Ip Man being told he has terminal cancer.

Ip Man goes to San Francisco to try to register his jerk teen son for high school, but can’t without a recommendation letter from the Chinese Benevolent Association (which is made up of martial arts masters), so the main plot of the movie is him trying to get this recommendation letter. While, of course, dealing with racism against Chinese immigrants (it’s suggested in the film that the main cause of this prejudice is that Americans think Karate is better than Kung-Fu). The audience I saw it with (at like 5pm on a weekday in the mall) was kind of laughing at the entire movie and then when Donnie Yen beats up Scott Adkins (playing a racist American marine who’s a karate-expert and has a British accent) at the end, everyone started genuinely cheering.

I’m mostly curious if in trying to figure out what Ip Man was up to in his later life, the screenwriters heard he had a hard time getting his son a recommendation letter and were like “That’s it. That’s the film.”

THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY (1996)

I can’t remember if I saw this when it first came out, but I liked it so much when I watched it last week that I keep saying, “Yo, you seen Portrait of a Lady yet,” to people as if I’ve been in a coma since the 1996 awards season.

[softwonjunnie]

strike three  ⚾ chapter two

“sometimes, you find love where you’d least expect it.”

☽ baseball team captain!jinhyuck x softball team captain!reader

☽ college!au    

☽ ft. up10tion’s jinhyuck, uniq’s seungyoun, up10tion’s wooseok and most likely other produce x 101 contestants aswell

☽ also kim jiyeon, cho sojung and kim hyunjung of wjsn just to have a face to those names, but if you want to imagine your own people go ahead because this is mainly a produce x 101 fic

☽ fluff and bits of angst, possibly more mature content but only following a warning

☽ second person view, female reader who goes by your name (y/n)

☽ word count  : 2.2k

☽ finished at 2019-07-22,12:35 pm

☽ a/n : still writing it as jinhyuCK instead of jinhyuK, sorry guys. blame the korean language for being weird (or blame all the other languages for being weird?? korean is actually kinda cool). hope you guys enjoy this! feel free to leave any feedback! 

Masterlist l Chapter one l Chapter two l Chapter three l Chapter four l Chapter five

↬ You took a deep breath and opened the door to the boys’ dressing room. At an instant, you regretted your decision when you saw that Jinhyuck was in the middle of taking his shirt off. This looks bad, you thought to yourself. Luckily there’s no one else in here, so if I just look down and quietly sneak out- 

“Y/N?” Jinhyuck’s sweet voice called and you looked up at him. His hair was a bit damp from sweating at practice, and his toned upper body seemingly wasn’t something he was ashamed of. He grinned at you. “Did you take the wrong dressing room?” 

“Well, I-I-” you stuttered. That was a first. Jinhyuk wasn’t usually someone to make you stutter. You were used to his joking nature but in some way, your mind was too crowded right now to make out a sentence. Or, it was just the fact that he still hadn’t put on a shirt that made you like this. “Actually, no. I came in here to talk to you.” He cocked an eyebrow at you and sat down on one of the benches, looking through his bag after something. Hopefully a shirt to put on. “I have an offer to make. But this is kind of secret, so I’d just like for you to check so that there isn’t a naked man in the shower who could overhear us right now.” 

He chuckled and muttered a “fair enough” before heading towards the showers. “No one here, so go on.” 

You took a few steps into the room and closed the door after yourself, before sitting down at the bench opposite of where he had now sat down again. “I’m just going to get straight to the point. You know that prom’s coming up, I’m sure?” 

He nodded. “I wasn’t planning on attending, but yeah.” 

“What do you mean you aren’t attending?” you playfully scolded him and he shrugged. “It’s the highlight of the year! And the highlight of the prom is the coronation of the prom king and queen.” 

“Yuck.” 

You leaned forward and pushed his shoulder. “Hey! Can you at least listen?” He chuckled again and nodded, leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “Becoming prom queen has been my dream since I was a very young little girl. And this is my final chance, since it’s my senior year.”

“Where do I get into the picture?” He sighed and looked at the clock hanging on the wall. “I have an ongoing practice, you know.” 

“Yes, I’ll make it quick. Here’s the thing; the committee this year only takes in actual couples for the applicants for prom king and queen. And to gain votes, the couple would have to be popular.” You took a deep breath, not believing you were actually about to say the next sentence. “And what would make a more popular couple than the team captains of both the baseball and softball team?”

He frowned. “Wait a second... You’re saying you and I should become a couple? Just for you to win some stupid crown?” 

“It’s not stupid,” you warned and held out a finger in the air to show him how serious you were - to which he could only laugh. 

“And what would I get out of this?” 

“If I said that I’ve heard from a little bird that one particular team captain has had problems finding a girlfriend recently, would that bird have been telling the truth?” 

“Yes, but-”

“And if another bird told me that relationships, for some stupid reason, brings you higher up in the hierarchy, and that this particular team captain has been falling down a bit recently due to another player dating the coach’s daughter? Would he still be telling the truth?” 

“Who’s giving you all this information?” 

“That doesn’t matter.” You shrugged. “Think about it. You’ll win over the boys in no time, and you’ll look popular around campus. And it would make it easier for you to begin dating again afterward, since people will think that if one person can put up with you, why can’t anyone else?” 

“You’re smart, Y/N, have I ever told you that?” You grinned and shrugged again. “So what exactly is it that you want me to do?”

“You pretend to date me. No strings, no feelings. You only take me out for a couple of dates every once in a while to show people that we are a great couple that they want to vote for as prom king and queen.” He nodded. “But we have to be great actors. We have to make everyone believe us.” 

“I can do that. I was really close to choosing my drama scholarship over this one.” He winked at you. 

“No way, you can not have gotten a drama scholarship!” 

There was a moment of silence where the two of you only looked at each other, no words being said, but he was looking at you with a face as if he was trying to make you believe in him. But you didn’t. “Fine, okay. But you almost believed me, didn’t you?” 

“...no.” 

He groaned and you laughed at his response. “Okay I should get back out on the field, but we can discuss this later?” 

You nodded. “Text me when your practice is over.” He gave you a thumbs up before pulling his shirt back on, thank god, grabbing his helmet and running out of the room. 

A couple of hours later, you had finished showering and laid on your bed in a pair of black tights and a hoodie, scrolling through your chemistry textbook to study for your upcoming test. Your phone buzzed and dragged you out of your thoughts, and on the lit-up screen was a text from Jinhyuck.

8:21  - Hey, should I bring dinner? I was planning on buying takeout

You realized from the text that you hadn’t eaten any dinner so far, and it was getting pretty late so the campus cafeteria would most likely close soon. You typed out an answer quickly.

8:22 - yes please! thank you!

You continued your studying and you weren’t interrupted again until a moment later, when there was a knock on your dorm room door. The bathroom door opened and out came your roommate Hyunjung, who told you “I’ll get it!” and reached for the door before you could even say a word. And as she opened the door, she revealed Jinhyuck who was standing there in a pair of loose jeans and a white T-shirt, a take out bag in one hand. “Oh, hello there,” she said, trying to hide her surprise.

“Hello! And hello, Y/N!” He looked past her and over to you, and gave you a small wave.

“Hi! Come in, come in,” you said and waved for him to do so and closed your book, putting it on the floor. You stood up and walked over to him, who was in the middle of taking his shoes off, when you saw that Hyunjung was backing away, giving you a face you couldn’t quite translate. Suddenly, Jinhyuck placed the bag on the floor and pulled you in for a tight hug. It took you by surprise; the two of you had never hugged before, but you weren’t exactly complaining. He was a great hugger. But you quickly realized that he had begun the act already. You smiled at the thought of him improvising like this.

“I have to go talk to Sojung about something,” Hyunjung started and you pulled away from the hug. “so I’ll see you later!” You nodded and waved at her as she sneaked behind you two and out through the door.

“Great Improvisation,” you said as soon as the door closed.

He grinned. “I’ve been planning to do that if she was here for fifteen minutes.” Your heart fluttered. Did he really think about hugging me? you thought, but then reminded yourself that it’s probably all just to make it more believable. Don’t get the wrong impression now, Y/N. 

You chuckled at him, but quickly changed your attention to the take out bag. “What did you get?”

“I got Chinese! Easy to eat right out of the box,” he responded and you both went over to the small dining table in the dorm. The table only had two chairs so it was very fitting right now. He pulled the boxes out of the bag, handing you one along with a pair of chopsticks. “So... about the thing...”

“It’s just the two of us in here so no one can hear, you can speak clearly.” You grinned at him and opened the box before breaking apart the chopsticks.

“Okay, okay. Here’s the thing; I feel like if we’re going to do something about this, we’re kind of in a rush because Wooseok is gaining popularity, my popularity, real quick and I’m losing it in the same speed. And prom is only like, what? Four months away? Five? If we want to compete with other couples who’s been together for longer times, we’ll have to work quickly.”

“So what’s your plan?” you questioned, both of you taking a bite of your food. He looked up at you with a frown. “What? You seem so matter-of-factly so I just assumed you’d have one...”

“You’re lucky because...” He released his frown and grinned instead. “I did actually think about it. We could say that we just started dating, but it could seem a bit suspicious if we like, just became friends and then go forward quickly. So, may I suggest,” You smiled at him as you continued eating. This boy had so much energy and seemed so into the thing already that it made you want to laugh. “We pretend that we’ve been ~casually seeing~ each other for a while now and decided to make it official just now.” 

“I must say, I never thought you’d be this creative.” 

He made a shocked face at you and jokingly held his heart, pretending to be hurt. “How dare you?” he cried out and you laughed. You had never seen this side of him before. This cute, energetic side. He was a really calm type around school and always was kind to everyone, so he made a lot of friends naturally. He looks like a tough guy and thanks to his nice front, he made a lot of friends. But not a lot of people could really get to his core, nor see his real deep personality. But you were hoping you would come closer to him; otherwise, people wouldn’t believe you two in your act. 

“How about skinship?” 

“Well, I guess it’s going to have to increase as this goes on to make it seem believable.” You got a lump in your throat when just thinking about it. You hadn’t had any of that kind of skinship with anyone since your last boyfriend. It made you feel weird - but then you reminded yourself. He is nothing but a friend, so it won’t be weird. “Holding hands is like a pretty basic must, I would say. And maybe like hugging when we greet and say goodbye? And like an occasional kiss on the cheek at times? Would you be comfortable with that?” 

You actually weren’t entirely sure what you felt. It had been a while since you went through and did all of those things, and you’d never done it with just a friend before. It was going to feel weird, but you reminded yourself that you needed to work hard for what you wanted. You’d just have to get used to it. “Yes, sure.” You took another bite of your food, swallowing it down with some water before continuing to speak. “And you?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. Do you want your arms over mine or below mine in a hug?” 

You frowned but kept your smile. “What?” 

He stood up and walked over to the chair you were sitting on. “Stand up.” You shook your head and chuckled, but followed his instructions and stood up next to him. You hadn’t until now realized how tall he was. He was probably a bit taller than the average, and a lot taller than you. And the way he was smiling down at you made you understand why he was so popular - his looks weren’t exactly failing him. “Hug me.” You could only let out a sound that you guess would be the vocal version of ~?!~, and he laughed at you. “Do it. And try to make it natural.” 

“Well the chances of that are about 0% now,” you muttered and he chuckled, but you pulled your arms around him. And he pulled his around you. It was a bit weird but you tried to relax into the hug, and you rested your head on top of his shoulder. 

“This is good, hm? It feels almost natural?” You hummed in response. “Okay, so my arms are above yours, almost around your neck, and your arms are around my body. Let’s remember this now so it looks good to others later, hm?” You pulled away and nodded at him. 

You knew there was no way you were gonna forget that feeling. 

[qvestchen]

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Summary: It was really laughable. The idea that Jeon Wonwoo had a nemesis. And yet there it was. The clear proof that all his life, like a nagging dull ache, Kwon Soonyoung had stepped all over his plans without ever really acknowledging him.

And maybe it was wrong for Wonwoo to seek him out but all he wanted was answers at first. He had never imagined they would stand opposite each other, fingers on triggers, his death in his nemesis’s hands and vice-versa.

Author: qvestchen

Status: Ongoing

Chapters: Home, Previous, Next.

Nemesis // Soonwoo SVT

Chapter 2:  But he is cursed

Soonyoung was laughing, totally immersed in a joke that his friend, Junhui, was narrating when Jihoon scoffed loudly.

“Have you two even signed up for your electives yet?”

Soonyoung and Jun stopped laughing and threw him a dark look.

“Jihoon, loosen up when you’re at the drama club,” Soonyoung said, whining slightly. “We still have till tomorrow to decide.”

Jun nodded. “A decision made at the last minute is the best.”

Seungcheol who was lazily watching the three of them while going over Jihoon’s new music with Joshua grinned at Joshua and Jihoon. “Should I break it to them?”

Jihoon smiled. “Let me do the honours this time.” He straightened up from his position on the floor and cleared his throat. “Today’s the last date for applying for electives. Good luck getting any because I’m pretty sure all of the courses are filled up by now. The good ones, anyway.”

Soonyoung frowned, still disbelieving, reaching for his phone to check the date. “You’ve probably mixed up your da—oh shit, Jun, we got to rush. It’s today!”

The two of them scrambled up quickly jumping down from the cool stage, looking for their bags.

“Joshua, what happens if two fools don’t choose their electives?” Seungcheol asked, laughing fondly at his friends.

Joshua pretended to think. “Apart from the immediate embarrassment? I would say, failing the semester, seeing everyone else pass and ooh, or worse, expulsion?”

They laughed as Jun flipped them off.

Jihoon got up too. “I’m going to the studio—”

“You mean your dorm room,” Seungcheol corrected.

“What’s in a name?” Jihoon said, gathering his things. “Got to go, folks. Inspiration calls. Wait up, you two. I’m coming up.”

“I’m planning to go to the cafeteria too,” Joshua said. “I’ll grab a sandwich and finish my essay.”

Soonyoung, who was waiting for Jun at the door, said. “I don’t understand how you like the cafeteria food so much. Especially when now we have Jeonghan’s cooking to sample.”

Joshua visibly stiffened. “I’ll see you later.” He left without looking at Soonyoung.

“What’s up with him?” Soonyoung asked Seungcheol as they locked the drama club.

“He doesn’t like the new club member.”

“Jeonghan? He has barely known him for a couple of days. How serious can it be?” He said, looking at Joshua’s retreating figure.

Seungcheol shrugged. “I have no idea. He’s usually very welcoming to the new members.”

Jihoon said, “He’s probably just worried about his essay. He’s been writing it in the cafeteria since the start of semester.”

Jun cut across. “You’re all wrong. It’s the sexual tension.”

“O-kay, that’s our cue to leave,” Soonyoung said, dragging Jun to the Language and Literature block.

There was a huge line of students at the Chinese department so Jun suggested that Soonyoung should go ahead. “Unless you want to take the class with me which would be amazing, to be honest.”

“You’re Chinese. You’re going to ace it but it’s a bit too heavy an elective for me. Intro to Persian is famous for being a light elective. Let me just rush and sign up for it and come back for you.”

Soonyoung walked outside the department room and was immediately hit by the sound of students loudly discussing plans but the noise died out as he left the English and Chinese language departments behind and climbed upstairs to the quiet, dusty corridor which housed the small, air-conditioned room that worked as the reception of the Persian department. He knocked at the glass door and waited before poking his head inside. “May I come in?”

The man at the small reception desk looked up from the computer screen with intense dislike at having been disturbed from his solitary afternoon ruminations. “Since you’re here, you might as well.”

Soonyoung walked inside quietly, smiling a bit awkwardly. “I could come back later if you’re busy.”

Truth be told, the great ‘angel’ of the drama club who was famous for being loud, boisterous and confident, the friendly Soonyoung was, outside his drama club and otherwise small group of friends, a shy, polite person especially in front of people he didn’t know. Right now, he was a stark contrast to his popular image (Jihoon often joked “it is the Gemini in him”) but the fact was that he was all of this together, a complex person, a bit forgetful at times but an easily endearing person, the kind who made people feel at ease.

The man at the desk seemed to consider his words. “How can I help you today?”

Soonyoung smiled warmly. “I came to sign up for the ‘Introduction to Persian Language and Culture’ course. Wait I have my ID copy and registration form somewhere here.” He rummaged in his backpack, apologetically. “Ah, here it is.”

He was handed a sheet. “You’re lucky. We just had one spot left. Fill in your details, name, course, email and so on and sign here.”

“Oh wow,” Soonyoung said, writing down his name, “I am so grate—” His phone rang, a hip-hop number filling the small room. His eyes widened and he apologized, looking at his phone. It was Joshua probably calling to tell him that the cafeteria had some semi-edible delicacy. He silenced his phone, filling in the details and signing with a flourish, before picking up the phone. He nodded to receptionist. “Thank you for everything. I’m looking forward to the classes.” He winced as he heard Joshua nearly screaming out of his phone. “Hello, Joshua. You sound excited. What’s up? Yes, I just finished signing up for the Persian elective. No, no, I don’t want to change. I would love to study English but I would probably fail, see everyone else pass and ooh, or worse, get expelled?” He laughed his characteristic loud, happy laugh, swinging outside the door, not even realising that someone was standing right outside. If he had realized that he had nearly crashed the door into a very annoyed student he would have no doubt stopped and apologized profusely but as it was, he was totally immersed in the call with a frantic Joshua who, unsuccessfully, wanted him to change his elective for some inexplicable reason.

After Joshua mysteriously said a sudden goodbye, Soonyoung reunited with Jun in the Chinese department who was still standing in the queue. “You won’t believe it but I made it just in time.”

Jun said, “I hope I get lucky too. There’s so many people that I’m worried the course will get filled by the time my chance comes.”

As they waited, Soonyoung wondered aloud about Joshua’s strange call and recent behaviour in general. “I hope he’s okay.”

Jun assumed a saint-like expression. “I’m telling you it’s Jeonghan. I think Joshua is experiencing a crush for the first time ever.”

Joshua was, in fact, experiencing something totally different. After having reached the cafeteria and spotting Seokmin and Hansol, he had placed himself within earshot at a table nearby, pretending to work on his essay. He hadn’t expected to hear much but instead he got to know that Wonwoo had decided to take Persian.

He had been unable to stop himself from exclaiming in pure shock. “What!?” No, no, that could not happen. He could not allow that to happen. Soonyoung and Wonwoo could not be allowed to cross paths. As if on cue, the bracelet around his wrist heated up, the runes no doubt signalling impending disaster. He gathered his things into his backpack and between rushing to get up and calling Soonyoung simultaneously, he tripped and fell.

The loud exclamation and following fall alerted Seokmin and Hansol to him and Seokmin even began to reiterate the information but he was already rushing out of the cafeteria, nearly shouting in his phone.

He was crossing the threshold of the cafeteria when something in the corner of his vision seemed to slow down time.

A flash of blonde hair.

Yoon Jeonghan.

Maybe time did slow down because it must have been fraction of a second but Joshua could feel his heart drop as Jeonghan returned his gaze, a taunting smile foretelling his failure to stop things from happening. Still smiling, Jeonghan tilted his head in a greeting and then, time sped up again and turning back, Soonyoung’s voice sounding through his phone, Joshua’s heart dropped as he noticed Jeonghan walking to Seokmin and Hansol’s table.

He had been right. The Warlock was here to stay.

The scene vanished as he tumbled suddenly into a quiet classroom instead of walking out of the cafeteria. “Uh, Soonyoung,” he continued to speak in his phone, “please, don’t take the elective. How about you take English with me? Or, I don’t know, Geography, I’ve heard they still have seats.” But Soonyoung had already cut the line.

He jiggled his bracelet which was warning him of unauthorised magic use but at the same time burning with an urgency that he knew well to read. Soonyoung and Wonwoo were going to cross paths and here, his teleportation magic was shortcircuiting as usual. He groaned aloud. “I’m doing it for them. I’m not using magic for myself.”

He let out a breath, trying to calm himself down. Okay, one more try. He walked to the classroom door and turned the handle, closing his eyes as he walked out.

The air shifted around him and suddenly, he could smell old paper and musty air-conditioning. He sighed in relief on opening his eyes and found himself in the Persian department.

The man at the desk made an irritated noise at seeing him. “The course is closed.”

Joshua walked up to him with a small smile. “You are sleeping right now. I am a figment of your imagination. How about you move on to another dream?” He clenched his fist as his bracelet shuddered with the magic use. He wondered if it would work. Even if it did, it would only work for mere seconds. His magic was limited by the bracelet, taking a physical toll on him to work. Suddenly, a thought of Jeonghan crossed his mind. That one did not have a bracelet. He must be immensely powerful. Immediately, he shook his head. But he is cursed.

His magic seemed to be working for the receptionist eyes glazed slightly, eyelids drooping and his head lolled to the side as slight snores filled the air.

Joshua got to work. He crossed off Soonyoung’s name and details from the list, not even needing to check the list above the last name. Opening the folder beside it, he took out Soonyoung’s ID copy and registration form, stuffing them in his pocket. It took him less than five seconds and the receptionist had already begun to show signs of waking up. He walked to the door, turning one last time to mumble an apology and then, he was walking out.

The air shifted and he was wrinkling his nose, knowing already that his teleportation had messed up again. He was in the washroom beside the cafeteria. Not as offtrack as it could have been though, he reasoned, checking the runes on his bracelet. It was cool again, no warning signs. Disaster had been averted. Soonyoung and Wonwoo had been steered clear of each other.

He noticed that his hands were shaking and pursed his lips before walking out of the cubicle. He caught his reflection in the mirror. His face was ashen. The magic always took a toll, even if he used it for the right purposes. He washed his face and patted it dry with a tissue before walking out confidently.

If anyone had seen him walk out, they wouldn’t have thought him any different from any other student. That gave him comfort and he had even begun to smile a bit, feeling happy with his quick thinking when he walked into the cafeteria. His smile dropped as he found himself under the attention of everyone at the table he had earlier been eavesdropping on. He felt like he was suffocating as he saw Jeonghan sitting alongside Wonwoo.

He knew already that his efforts today were only temporary. Now that Soonyoung and Wonwoo’s lives had a thin common factor—Jeonghan. The warlock seemed to sense his thoughts and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Jisoo, won’t you come meet my new friends?

His eyes bulged as he recognized the smooth, taunting voice in his head. Jeonghan knew his name. How did he know it? What else did he know?

Get out of my head, Jeonghan. He turned around and walked out of the place, finding himself inadvertently walking into the Chinese department where Soonyoung and Jun were still waiting for Jun’s turn at the registration.

“Joshua? What are you doing here?” Soonyoung asked, brightly.

He looks so happy, he thought, he doesn’t know what I’ve done. He wanted to say sorry for denying his friend his chosen elective. Maybe he could sign him up here. He opened his mouth to suggest it in some subtle way but no sound came out.

Jun clapped. “You’re joining this elective too? What made you change your mind?”

Joshua wanted to say something but his mouth had gone dry and even as he walked to his friends, his body was leaden. He could see their expression drop right before the world spotted and darkened.

The last thing he heard was Jun screaming.

It was, in fact, Soonyoung screaming. Together the two of them managed to haul him to the medic’s room in the building while a teacher rang up the campus hospital.

“Is he okay?” Soonyoung asked the nurse, his face stained with tears, after they had settled Joshua down a bit. It had only been minutes but Jun and him had panicked and called everyone. They were all on the way, including Jeonghan who had called Soonyoung and caught him crying.

The nurse smiled warmly at the two of them. “It’s exhaustion and probably stress but he’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” he asked again. He looked at his friend who was now on the hospital bed. He looked tired, slight dark circles beneath his eyes and pale, blotchy skin.

“Maybe we should call his parents?” Jun said, worriedly.

They looked at each other, suddenly realizing they had no idea how to contact Joshua’s parents.

Soonyoung picked up Joshua’s jacket. “It will be on his phone.” He unlocked the phone easily, priding himself at knowing the passcode, but frowned when he looked at the contacts. He just had four numbers saved. Soonyoung, Seungcheol, Jihoon and Junhui.

Jun who was beside him looked surprised too.

“Well?” the nurse asked.

Soonyoung kept the phone back. “You could say we are his family. I’ll stay with him here tonight.”

“Okay, how about you get these medicines from the prescription here and get him and yourself a change of clothes and toiletries?” the nurse said.

Soonyoung was reluctant to leave but Jun nodded.

“Go. I won’t leave. Don’t worry.”

And so he was walking out of the hospital when someone’s heavy backpack knocked into his chest. He lost balance and grabbed at air, eyes widening as he realized that he was heading straight for the open window.

A hand caught his t-shirt and pulled him back.

“Watch where you’re going, will you?” Seungcheol said, steadying him. “If you fell from here, you would probably die.” He pulled shut the window pane, securing it firmly, after glaring in the direction of the person who had collided with Soonyoung. “I’m going to complain to the admin about these windows here.”

“It’s okay,” Soonyoung said, rubbing his chest. “I wasn’t seeing where I was going. You go ahead. I’ll just get these medicines and—”

“Jihoon is getting nightwear and other stuff so don’t worry. Should I get the medicines?” Seungcheol asked.

“Thank God for Jihoon. I’ll get the medicines though. You go ahead.”

When Soonyoung returned, he found his friends waiting outside the room. “What happened?”

“He’s sleeping right now so that’s fine,” Jun said.

Jihoon looked furious. “The nurse kicked us out because we were crowding the place.”

“We aren’t even that many,” Soonyoung said.

“Jeonghan dropped in with a friend. Remember the idiot who nearly killed you near the window here. That’s his friend, Jeon Wonwoo. I nearly told him off. Anyway, I politely thanked them but knowing Joshua wouldn’t be happy to see Jeonghan when he woke up, I somehow managed to get rid of them for now.”

The packet of medicines slipped from Soonyoung’s fingers.

Jeon Wonwoo?

“D-Did you say Jeon Wonwoo?” No, what he wanted to ask was, he is real?

He felt sick. The name was echoing in his head like a ghost haunting his veins. Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Wonwoo. The spectre which followed him only to disappear. Soonyoung had thought he had got over him. He had spent a good part of his high school life chasing after this name. Only to find nothing. He had sworn himself to let go, to forget, convinced himself that there was no such person, that everything that happened, every little incident, every whisper, was nothing, had told himself to stop looking for that glint of spectacles, that soft head of dark hair, that once-heard deep voice, because they were all red herrings.

“Yes, do you know him? He was kind of weird. I mean, he said he saw Joshua at the cafeteria when he was with you guys.”

And yet there it was. The name and the person.

He dialled Jeonghan’s number hurriedly. “Hey, is—is someone…this is going to sound weird but do you know…do you have a friend named Wonwoo?”

hello, hope you enjoyed the new chapter!

lots of things happened, we got to see a bit more about soonwoo's relationship of sorts, more about joshua (and his powers and limits) and jeonghan, and we met soonyoung's friends! what did you think of the chapter? are you ready for soonwoo to meet next chapter?

side note: "Introduction to Persian Language and Culture" is an elective course i took in uni. this is a little bit of a background story for this fic but in our uni this course was immensely popular among the students because it was supposed to be easy to score marks in. and it turned out to be true lol because of the structure of the course (rather than the content or anything else) and the fact that we only did basic language in the course. i actually enjoyed the course and loved learning the language and about the culture. persian is a beautiful language. unfortunately, my classmates and i, did not, even after a year of the course, become fluent. idk i thought this would explain this bit of the fic and some of the references that i'm using. most of the uni scenes in this fic are going to be typical uni student lives but with seventeen.

thank you for supporting <3 love, positive vibes and great friendships!

[asian-down-under]

Fork or Chopsticks?

When eating in an Asian restaurant, I'm always plagued with the same question and everlasting internal battle – should I just use the chopsticks or ask for a fork? Naturally, everyone assumes I'm more comfortable using the chopsticks since I am half Chinese and half Filipino. However, once I open my mouth and a fluent Aussie accent comes pouring out, one would definitely question my natural instincts. Being brought up by an Asian family in a Western, albeit proudly multicultural society like Australia has been in a word: challenging. The differences between the cultures are so prominent, they punch me in the face almost every day. Instead of comparing apples with oranges, I'm comparing dumplings with VB. Others in similar situations would attest that the struggles usually come from their persistent parent/s. In my case, it's my dad, my mum and her parents (my Kung Kung and Popo) who regularly make me feel like I'm disappointing them for not upholding the Chinese ways, traditions, superstitions and philosophies. My mum is still somewhat mortified when ordering food in a Chinese restaurant, all I want are the “gweilo” (a.k.a. ghost man – meaning white people) dishes like special fried rice, and sweet and sour pork. I have been living in Australia since I was 3 years old so my palate definitely prefers dishes like that over chicken feet, animal organs like livers, tongues, and any others not for the feint of heart (or stomach).

Growing up in Australia and being raised by the Asian ways made things like sleep overs and staying out past midnight nearly impossible. My dad was always too afraid to let me sleep over at my friends’ houses in fear that their parents would, in his words, “rape” me. His paranoia and overprotective parenting style definitely backfired on him during my teenage years. The teenage rebellion ruined our relationship for the good part of a decade. Nevertheless, in my earlier years, I had to do the quintessentially Asian after-school activities like tutoring and piano lessons. My mum would always and still usually speaks to me in Cantonese and my replies are in English. My dad, who let's be clear, doesn't speak Cantonese as he is Filipino and only speaks Tagalog or English, would yell at me when I was a kid for not using my native tongue (even though he couldn't understand most of the conversations which occurred between my mum, my sister and me). You would think that a brother would want to be in the know but apparently, he was quite happy just sitting there pretending that he understood.

I can't speak for Western families but I'm of the opinion that Asian parents tend to be the most strict. When it comes to children's behaviour, my dad's ultimate requirement and demand is respect. Thou shalt show thy father respect at all times, even when he's wrong (especially when he's wrong) or suffer the wrath of the ego bruised Filipino man. Trust me, it isn't pretty. It's like arguing with an infuriated, irrational and deaf gorilla. When living with my dad as a kid, next to respect, he also valued saving 'face'. We were required to answer the phone like we were running a hotel, “Good morning, thanks for calling. This is Cat speaking”. He also made us fold the toilet paper into a point like Housekeeping just on the off chance a guest (one of his mates that he was trying to schmooze) came to the house and needed to use the loo.

At school, most of my friends were Australians. I only had a few Asian mates but I still found I had more in common with my Aussie friends. I wasn't focused on my studies. I just wanted to chat, gossip and party. Being one of the only Asians in my close circle of friends was interesting to say the least. I remember on my learner's driving licence, under skin colour my mum told me to write 'yellow'. What am I, Lisa Simpson? Still to this day I find it baffling that Chinese people can be so intelligent yet so clueless in as many ways. The literal translation for my family's nickname for me was ‘fat pig bread’. Chinese people won't blink an eye if one of their friends told them they are fat or look like they've gained weight. You do that to an Australian and you may be sporting dark eye shadow on one eye by the end of the conversation.

And don't get me started on the bad driving! My husband and I have an ongoing joke that nine times out of ten a bad driver that we see on the road will usually be Asian. It's like our genes were too focused on ensuring that we all master the abilities of studying and reading that they ran out of juice in the coordination department. Perhaps we shouldn't handle heavy machinery because if I had a dollar for every time I witnessed an Asian lady reversing out of a parking space at a pace slower than the ice caps melting, I'd be able to purchase the Richmond AFL team twice over.

I've also noticed that many Asians are clean freaks and I am a self professed clean freak myself. Germs, dust and outside dirt are not our friends. Many Chinese families in Hong Kong will not only ask you to remove your shoes before entering their houses but also provide you with their own guest slippers so that your bare feet or potentially dirty socks don't soil their clean homes. I'm guilty of owning a few pairs of boot covers but I have yet to find the courage to ask a tradie to use them as the thought of the sheer embarrassment of requesting that they slip on my blue, swan print bootie protectors has overridden my fear of their shoe dirt thus far. My husband has had the toughest time having to compromise or succumb to my non-negotiable cleaning standards. The poor man worked as a gardener for some years and I'd make him undress outside to prevent getting grass and dirt inside the house. If any neighbours looked over at that time, they probably would have been mentally scarred from the sight of his white, hairy legs. Upon reflection, my OCD cleanliness could just be my individual personality trait instead of an Asian thing but I definitely have the nagging Asian wife bit down pat. My mum has taught me well for sure. It's known to some that the language of Cantonese naturally sounds more 'naggy' than Mandarin due to the elongated sounds we make after a statement. Nevertheless, all the nagging does come from a good place. Chinese people can be quite negative and adopt the ‘glass is half empty’ attitude but it all still does come from a good place.

Nonetheless, I've had my little rant but I welcome others who are in the same boat to share their crazy Asian family stories so we can have a laugh together or share if you would just like to have a vent.

[racingtoaredlight]

Profiles in IMDb Greatness: Glenn Fleshler

I love the Internet Movie Database. was that the big boy from Modern Family working the front desk at a hotel in Almost Famous? Sure was. As such I enjoy looking over random performer pages and arbitrarily judging the scope and quality of their careers to determine if they merit entry into my vaguely defined IMDb Hall of Fame. Today’s enshrinee: Glenn Fleshler

Hello old friends, hope everyone is doing well during this pandemic and instead of protesting at state capitol buildings with the shittiest people alive you’re safe at home enjoying wholesome blog content. While riding out quarantine the mind has more time to wander and ponder the deeper mysteries, like what are the moral obligations a government has to keeping its population alive and in the nearly 50 years of HBO has there ever been a more vital figure in its programming than Glenn Fleshler over the past decade?

Much like Gus Frerotte appearing out of nowhere to be every team’s backup quarterback at some point in the last 20 years, Fleshler just strolls from one prestige television set to another covering the gamut from drama to horror to comedy. I considered writing this post months ago when I first realized we were dealing with Mr. HBO here but quarantine boredom was just the propellant needed to get this baby off the ground.

First Listed Role: While fans of the IMDb HOF may remember my affinity for these actors getting their starts in soap operas the true character actor spirit is captured from appearing in network crime dramas so of course Glenn Fleshler opening up with an episode of Homicide: Life on the Street which also featured friend of the HOF Jon Polito! The episode description is simply “The team investigate a woman who appears to be murdering her husbands for the insurance money” so I’ll assume they ripped the whole thing from the plot of Addams Family Values and Fleshler played Uncle Fester.

Newest Role: Of course after calling Fleshler Mr. HBO I’m immediately served up a role on Showtime’s Billions. I didn’t get into that show when it premiered since I don’t trust Showtime original programming anymore and when I tried to start it up a couple weeks ago I made it five minutes before realizing that a show about rich assholes talking about the stock market wasn’t what I was looking for in 2020. I’m sure it’s delightful.

CSI/Law & Order/NCIS Guest Spots: Three episodes of Law & Order and three more of SVU, six different characters. This is legendary stuff. Let’s go in chronological order where I play my favorite game of trying to guess who the character was in each episode.

Don Hamilton, 2/6/02 - A former aide for a state senator has turned up missing and it’s revealed that she was having an affair with the senator and was pregnant. My money’s on Fleshler as the murderous, fertile politician.

Dr. Noah Kamens, 11/1/02 - Yikes, child sex ring episode here. Fingers crossed that Fleshler was just appearing as a child psychologist and not as a predatory pediatrician but as we’ll visit later he can pull off menacingly creepy well.

Rick Kawalchuck, 4/20/05 - A porn star is murdered, safe to assume Fleshler is the corpse and this light-hearted episode is filled with wisecracks about how with his rigor mortis they won’t be able to close the coffin.

Jimmy Curren, 12/3/08 - A man from upstate New York is found dead in Chinatown, a realistic crime based on my knowledge of midupstate New Yorkers and their appreciation of a good Chinese buffet. This crime leads all the way to the governor’s office and since Jimmy doesn’t sound gubernatorial I’ll guess Fleshler is an adviser who kills the victim over the last potsticker.

Corrections Officer Kravitz, 10/7/09 - This game isn’t fun if you do all the work for me, character name.

Phillip Altshuler, 12/6/17 - A true pro still doing these gigs when at this point he’d been in some truly great TV. this episode is about the rape of a social media star so he’s the venture capitalist funding the app and trying to keep the story under wraps.

One of these days I really should watch an episode of Law & Order.

Hall of Fame Ballot Submissions: Just from the HBO division we got Sex and the City (he looks like Charlotte’s type based on the schlubby lawyer she ends up marrying down the stretch), Boardwalk Empire (not the best show but I did love him as George Remus who always referred to himself as “Remus”), True Detective (hope everyone’s working from home in case remembering the “Making flowers” scene gets you understandably horny), The Knick (technically Cinemax but I always thought they were owned by the same crew, if not when a show has a guy taking a shot of cocaine to the dick it gets in here), The Night Of (kind of became a mess at the end and there entirely too much John Turturro foot picking but the pilot was great), Barry (fantastic show, Fleshler should do more comedy) and then he turned up in the best episode of the incredible Watchmen season.

What a run, when Glenn Fleshler passes on down the road I hope this kicks off his funeral.

Miscellaneous Credits: I didn’t think Joker in any way deserved a Best Picture nomination and the conversation around it was embarrassing all around since in the end it was a mostly entertaining Taxi Driver ripoff but hey, Glenn Fleshler can say he was in award nominated motion picture.

Highest Rated IMDb Entry: Kinda surprised that the True Detective finale landed here since I remember there being disappointment with it even though I thought it and that whole season were fantastic (his relative/ladyfriend Ann Dowd would be a good one to cover in the next post so keep that in mind for the next pandemic) but here it is at a robust 9.6. Fleshler is the right kind of unnerving after a season of buildup to who the killer was. I can see how a fella like that would catch on in multiple Law & Orders universes even if he’s appeared enough times for people to question why everyone in New York City looks like Glenn Fleshler.

Lowest Rated IMDb Entry: A 2016 film called The Rendezvous where Fleshler’s the only name I recognize on the cast list. Let’s learn about this movie together, shall we.

Oof, I was rooting for armageddon to come take me less than a minute in to that. My only intrigue in diving in further is to see if the “we work for a higher power” sticks with that Steel Magnolias accent all throughout the movie. And the quips, my god the quips. The “you think?” line is what happens when Marvel movies are oversold for their witty banter, everyone wants a taste of jokes they don’t have to work on.

IMDb Fun Fact: The only three I had to choose from

Off-Broadway, he has appeared in such plays as Measure for Measure and Pericles, Prince of Tyre.

Fleshler studied acting at New York University's Tisch School of the Performing Arts, from which he has an MFA.

Fleshler's Broadway credits include Death of a Salesman, Guys and Dolls, Arcadia and The Merchant of Venice.

Neat.

IMDb HOF Members: Looking for a Mother’s Day gift for the special ladies in your life? Just send her this list of links and they’ll wish quarantine would never end so long as there are more to read!

Bob Balaban

Jim Beaver

Clancy Brown

W. Earl Brown

Reg E. Cathey

Gary Cole

Keith David

Cary Elwes

Noah Emmerich

Glenn Fleshler

Jami Gertz

John Hawkes

John Michael Higgins

Toby Huss

Allison Janney

John Carroll Lynch

Margo Martindale

David Morse

Joe Morton

Robert Patrick

Bill Paxton

Jon Polito

Alan Rickman

Stephen Root

Matt Ross

Alan Ruck

Peter Stormare

Daniel von Bargen

Next Time: If the pandemic is still ongoing, the monkey from Outbreak. If not, the monkey from Outbreak.

[easyfoodnetwork]

Here’s What Eating Out Might Look Like When Restaurants Reopen

Expats gather outside bars and restaurants on Peel street in Soho

Masks, temperature checks, and awkward bar vibes — one writer’s recent night out in Hong Kong could be a glimpse at America’s future

On a recent Friday night in Hong Kong, two police vans idled outside an upscale Italian restaurant on Wyndham Street. Only a few months earlier, their presence might have been an ominous sign that a unit of anti-protest riot cops was in the area, tear gas and pepper spray at the ready. But as is the case for much of daily life here since January, Hong Kong has moved from a state of protest to pandemic, and that night, instead of an armed “raptor” force wearing dark green fatigues and gas masks, the vans discharged a group of what looked like ordinary patrolmen in simple short-sleeve uniforms and surgical masks.

The officers had mustered in one of the city’s busiest nightlife districts to enforce the local government’s ongoing social distancing measures in response to COVID-19, many of which were first announced in late March. They stood outside on the sidewalk like nuns chaperoning a Catholic school dance, armed with rulers, ready to stalk the floor and push guests apart to “make room for the Holy Spirit.” Except in this case the school gymnasium was a bar full of consenting adults, the rulers were rolls of measuring tape, and the Holy Spirit, I assume, was the distance required for gravity to pull down tiny drops of spittle from the air between us.

As cities and states across the U.S. begin to float possible dates for reopening the closed sectors of their economies, many diners and hospitality industry leaders are asking what that next phase might look like for restaurants. Because Hong Kong — along with other Asian cities like Seoul and Taipei — has largely succeeded in controlling outbreaks, and allowed its restaurants to stay open throughout the pandemic, some are asking if the present state of dining here could be a glimpse at the future for America.

Can diners in Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, China send me photos of what it looks like in restaurants. How the seating is set up? Are all the servers wearing masks and gloves. What are guests wearing? If anyone works in kitchens how are you dealing w new protocol?

— Dave Chang (@davidchang) April 16, 2020

And so, with the number of newly reported COVID-19 cases in Hong Kong staying firmly in single digits over the preceding few days, I traded house socks for chukka boots, slipped on a surgical mask, and did what many in the U.S. have been longing to do for weeks. I went out for dinner.

I chose Frank’s in part because it makes for a useful case study of the current regulatory climate in Hong Kong. Bars have been ordered closed, but not restaurants; Frank’s is a split-level operation, with more of a bar setup downstairs and a sit-down restaurant upstairs. The mandatory bar closure has meant that almost all of Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s famous party district, has been shut down; Frank’s sits on the edge of LKF, sandwiched between it and the equally busy but more restaurant-heavy SoHo neighborhood.

Although popular with Cantonese locals for workweek lunch, at night, Frank’s is often filled with expat residents drinking Negronis and ordering the veal. Expats have come under special scrutiny recently, after a wave of travelers rushing home to the city from hot spots abroad brought new cases back with them only a few weeks ago.

Normally, it would cost me less than $1 to take the subway or minibus from my house to Wyndham Street, but to minimize time spent in small, enclosed, crowded spaces, I splurged $6.50 on a cab. At the entrance to Frank’s, I was stopped by a host and was confronted with the first in a series of small obstacles to eating out: the temperature check.

Well before COVID-19, it would’ve been hard to go a day in Hong Kong and not see someone wearing a mask. They’re common enough that if you met a friend on the street and someone asked you later if the friend had worn one, you might not remember. In restaurants, I’d seen staff wearing masks from time to time too, though almost never in more upscale situations. But at Frank’s — as with every other restaurant I checked in on — all staff wore the same thin, blue surgical masks Hong Kongers had been wearing on the street for years.

While Hong Kong’s pre-existing mask culture somewhat prepared me, in the U.S., it might have felt a little like a mass text had gone out on Halloween, where the in-joke was that instead of asking everyone to dress in a sexy costume, every costume would be a surgeon: Surgeon servers. Surgeon cooks. A surgeon DJ. Even having lived with regular mask culture for years now — and among their near-ubiquity for weeks — seeing every single person who handled my food and drink wear the tell-tale sign of medical caution was jarring.

Still, not long into the meal, as the unnerving feeling began to subside, it was quickly replaced by communication issues. I’ve heard a lot of people lament the non-verbal communication lost behind masks, the missed smiles or bitten lips, but more difficult for me were the few times I couldn’t understand what my server was trying to ask me. He was enunciating clearly at a volume well above the ambient noise, but without seeing half his face, he may as well have held his hand behind his back and asked me, “How many fingers?” “Sure,” I replied the first time this happened, and the result was a side of squash I didn’t think I’d ordered. (It was great.)

After dinner, I picked my own mask up off my knee, where it had remained throughout the meal, and headed downstairs for a cocktail. I ordered at the bar, got my drink at the bar, and then immediately had to walk away from the bar and stand against the far wall. The bar itself had no stools, and featured printouts explaining that customers could not hang out at the bar. In a total reverse of the usual crush to buy drinks, the few guests in the quarter-full room were clustered in small groups against the far wall with me. Only they weren’t with me at all.

When you sit at the bar you are part of a continuum, long or short, curved or straight, finite or infinitely looped, that counts everyone seated anywhere along it as also at the bar. Downstairs at Frank’s, we were all standing up while observing social distance. Me trying to join any one group would have been the awkward equivalent of pulling up a seat to a table full of unsuspecting strangers upstairs. Not having the stomach for that, I downed my drink, put my money on the bar and left.

Police on Wyndham Street prepare to enforce social distancing rules on Friday night

Pens used to fill out health declaration forms at Yardbird HK are individually sterilized after each use

Outside, I walked back past the cops and did a quick loop through an eerily empty Lan Kwai Fong, before wandering back up towards Soho to see how restaurants were doing there. Turning up Peel Street, I was only half-surprised to see several large gaggles of maskless expats drinking out in front of restaurants on the dead-end road. You know that particular genre of sports bloopers where an athlete begins celebrating right on the verge of winning, only to have victory snatched away by someone actually digging for those last few inches? I’ve gotten some good schadenfreude out of those scenes, but with only one new case of COVID reported in Hong Kong the day before my night out, these people felt like the last link on our whole city’s relay team, and their confidence made me nervous.

I moved on, and tried to stop in a wine bar that sells enough charcuterie, cheese, and other no-cook food to maybe pass as a restaurant, but the man at the front desk of its building told me that the entire floor was closed. I stopped into the lobby of a high rise on Wellington Street, hoping to finally try the “martini 3-ways” at VEA Lounge, the cocktail bar one flight down from Vicky Cheng’s French-Chinese tasting menu restaurant, VEA, but the button for the 29th floor didn’t work at all.

Then I remembered that Yardbird Hong Kong had reopened. It closed for 14 days starting March 23, after word of infected diners at another restaurant group got out. But it was back in business now, albeit under a new regime of health and safety measures. There was a wait, as usual, but nowhere to do the waiting. The front room, where I’ve spent several past pre-dinner hours nursing a cocktail or two while my name moved up the host’s list, had been converted from a mostly standing-room bar area into a second sit-down-only dining room. Anyone not yet seated would have to wait outside. I gave my phone number and went for a walk around the block.

When I did finally get in, the host took my temperature and asked me to sign a form declaring that in the last 14 days I had not been outside of Hong Kong, hung out with anyone outside of Hong Kong, and/or had COVID-19 or symptoms of COVID-19. I also gave my name, phone number, and email address, so that should anyone present that night later test positive, they could contact me. I’d had to give the same personal information at Frank’s as well, so that now, despite paying cash at both venues, there was a point-by-point record of my night just floating out there in the ether, my American right-to-privacy preferences be damned.

Diners at Yardbird sit four to a table max, in a dining room at 50 percent capacity by law

The host told me she had never had problems from anyone about the health form, but there had been larger groups who got annoyed at having to separate into tables of four or fewer. On my own, I was led to a two-top in the middle of the back dining room, ordered a cocktail, and read on my phone.

At 50 percent capacity, the place was still lively, but even if the kinetic feeling of the restaurant was still there, some of the potential energy for a solo diner had been stripped away. I’m usually fairly confident being out on my own, but something about sitting so far from another table — even an empty one in one of my favorite Hong Kong restaurants — was uncomfortable.

Steam rose in the open kitchen, swirling past a flurry of masked chefs shuffling around their stations. What felt like more servers than I can ever remember seeing on that floor swarmed about the dining room. And everywhere there were people eating. Everywhere, except of course within about six feet on all sides of me. If my distant neighbors and I had shared a brief conversation before I finished my drink, decided there was no point in trying to stay out anymore, and headed home, it most likely would’ve consisted of an exaggerated wave and a pantomimed shout, as if we each occupied either side of an enormous cavern, and could never get much closer than we were already. It would’ve been mildly funny. And mostly true.

Andrew Genung is a writer based in Hong Kong and the creator of the Family Meal newsletter about the restaurant industry.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3eHzabl https://ift.tt/3apyZyk

Expats gather outside bars and restaurants on Peel street in Soho

Masks, temperature checks, and awkward bar vibes — one writer’s recent night out in Hong Kong could be a glimpse at America’s future

On a recent Friday night in Hong Kong, two police vans idled outside an upscale Italian restaurant on Wyndham Street. Only a few months earlier, their presence might have been an ominous sign that a unit of anti-protest riot cops was in the area, tear gas and pepper spray at the ready. But as is the case for much of daily life here since January, Hong Kong has moved from a state of protest to pandemic, and that night, instead of an armed “raptor” force wearing dark green fatigues and gas masks, the vans discharged a group of what looked like ordinary patrolmen in simple short-sleeve uniforms and surgical masks.

The officers had mustered in one of the city’s busiest nightlife districts to enforce the local government’s ongoing social distancing measures in response to COVID-19, many of which were first announced in late March. They stood outside on the sidewalk like nuns chaperoning a Catholic school dance, armed with rulers, ready to stalk the floor and push guests apart to “make room for the Holy Spirit.” Except in this case the school gymnasium was a bar full of consenting adults, the rulers were rolls of measuring tape, and the Holy Spirit, I assume, was the distance required for gravity to pull down tiny drops of spittle from the air between us.

As cities and states across the U.S. begin to float possible dates for reopening the closed sectors of their economies, many diners and hospitality industry leaders are asking what that next phase might look like for restaurants. Because Hong Kong — along with other Asian cities like Seoul and Taipei — has largely succeeded in controlling outbreaks, and allowed its restaurants to stay open throughout the pandemic, some are asking if the present state of dining here could be a glimpse at the future for America.

Can diners in Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, China send me photos of what it looks like in restaurants. How the seating is set up? Are all the servers wearing masks and gloves. What are guests wearing? If anyone works in kitchens how are you dealing w new protocol?

— Dave Chang (@davidchang) April 16, 2020

And so, with the number of newly reported COVID-19 cases in Hong Kong staying firmly in single digits over the preceding few days, I traded house socks for chukka boots, slipped on a surgical mask, and did what many in the U.S. have been longing to do for weeks. I went out for dinner.

I chose Frank’s in part because it makes for a useful case study of the current regulatory climate in Hong Kong. Bars have been ordered closed, but not restaurants; Frank’s is a split-level operation, with more of a bar setup downstairs and a sit-down restaurant upstairs. The mandatory bar closure has meant that almost all of Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s famous party district, has been shut down; Frank’s sits on the edge of LKF, sandwiched between it and the equally busy but more restaurant-heavy SoHo neighborhood.

Although popular with Cantonese locals for workweek lunch, at night, Frank’s is often filled with expat residents drinking Negronis and ordering the veal. Expats have come under special scrutiny recently, after a wave of travelers rushing home to the city from hot spots abroad brought new cases back with them only a few weeks ago.

Normally, it would cost me less than $1 to take the subway or minibus from my house to Wyndham Street, but to minimize time spent in small, enclosed, crowded spaces, I splurged $6.50 on a cab. At the entrance to Frank’s, I was stopped by a host and was confronted with the first in a series of small obstacles to eating out: the temperature check.

Well before COVID-19, it would’ve been hard to go a day in Hong Kong and not see someone wearing a mask. They’re common enough that if you met a friend on the street and someone asked you later if the friend had worn one, you might not remember. In restaurants, I’d seen staff wearing masks from time to time too, though almost never in more upscale situations. But at Frank’s — as with every other restaurant I checked in on — all staff wore the same thin, blue surgical masks Hong Kongers had been wearing on the street for years.

While Hong Kong’s pre-existing mask culture somewhat prepared me, in the U.S., it might have felt a little like a mass text had gone out on Halloween, where the in-joke was that instead of asking everyone to dress in a sexy costume, every costume would be a surgeon: Surgeon servers. Surgeon cooks. A surgeon DJ. Even having lived with regular mask culture for years now — and among their near-ubiquity for weeks — seeing every single person who handled my food and drink wear the tell-tale sign of medical caution was jarring.

Still, not long into the meal, as the unnerving feeling began to subside, it was quickly replaced by communication issues. I’ve heard a lot of people lament the non-verbal communication lost behind masks, the missed smiles or bitten lips, but more difficult for me were the few times I couldn’t understand what my server was trying to ask me. He was enunciating clearly at a volume well above the ambient noise, but without seeing half his face, he may as well have held his hand behind his back and asked me, “How many fingers?” “Sure,” I replied the first time this happened, and the result was a side of squash I didn’t think I’d ordered. (It was great.)

After dinner, I picked my own mask up off my knee, where it had remained throughout the meal, and headed downstairs for a cocktail. I ordered at the bar, got my drink at the bar, and then immediately had to walk away from the bar and stand against the far wall. The bar itself had no stools, and featured printouts explaining that customers could not hang out at the bar. In a total reverse of the usual crush to buy drinks, the few guests in the quarter-full room were clustered in small groups against the far wall with me. Only they weren’t with me at all.

When you sit at the bar you are part of a continuum, long or short, curved or straight, finite or infinitely looped, that counts everyone seated anywhere along it as also at the bar. Downstairs at Frank’s, we were all standing up while observing social distance. Me trying to join any one group would have been the awkward equivalent of pulling up a seat to a table full of unsuspecting strangers upstairs. Not having the stomach for that, I downed my drink, put my money on the bar and left.

Police on Wyndham Street prepare to enforce social distancing rules on Friday night

Pens used to fill out health declaration forms at Yardbird HK are individually sterilized after each use

Outside, I walked back past the cops and did a quick loop through an eerily empty Lan Kwai Fong, before wandering back up towards Soho to see how restaurants were doing there. Turning up Peel Street, I was only half-surprised to see several large gaggles of maskless expats drinking out in front of restaurants on the dead-end road. You know that particular genre of sports bloopers where an athlete begins celebrating right on the verge of winning, only to have victory snatched away by someone actually digging for those last few inches? I’ve gotten some good schadenfreude out of those scenes, but with only one new case of COVID reported in Hong Kong the day before my night out, these people felt like the last link on our whole city’s relay team, and their confidence made me nervous.

I moved on, and tried to stop in a wine bar that sells enough charcuterie, cheese, and other no-cook food to maybe pass as a restaurant, but the man at the front desk of its building told me that the entire floor was closed. I stopped into the lobby of a high rise on Wellington Street, hoping to finally try the “martini 3-ways” at VEA Lounge, the cocktail bar one flight down from Vicky Cheng’s French-Chinese tasting menu restaurant, VEA, but the button for the 29th floor didn’t work at all.

Then I remembered that Yardbird Hong Kong had reopened. It closed for 14 days starting March 23, after word of infected diners at another restaurant group got out. But it was back in business now, albeit under a new regime of health and safety measures. There was a wait, as usual, but nowhere to do the waiting. The front room, where I’ve spent several past pre-dinner hours nursing a cocktail or two while my name moved up the host’s list, had been converted from a mostly standing-room bar area into a second sit-down-only dining room. Anyone not yet seated would have to wait outside. I gave my phone number and went for a walk around the block.

When I did finally get in, the host took my temperature and asked me to sign a form declaring that in the last 14 days I had not been outside of Hong Kong, hung out with anyone outside of Hong Kong, and/or had COVID-19 or symptoms of COVID-19. I also gave my name, phone number, and email address, so that should anyone present that night later test positive, they could contact me. I’d had to give the same personal information at Frank’s as well, so that now, despite paying cash at both venues, there was a point-by-point record of my night just floating out there in the ether, my American right-to-privacy preferences be damned.

Diners at Yardbird sit four to a table max, in a dining room at 50 percent capacity by law

The host told me she had never had problems from anyone about the health form, but there had been larger groups who got annoyed at having to separate into tables of four or fewer. On my own, I was led to a two-top in the middle of the back dining room, ordered a cocktail, and read on my phone.

At 50 percent capacity, the place was still lively, but even if the kinetic feeling of the restaurant was still there, some of the potential energy for a solo diner had been stripped away. I’m usually fairly confident being out on my own, but something about sitting so far from another table — even an empty one in one of my favorite Hong Kong restaurants — was uncomfortable.

Steam rose in the open kitchen, swirling past a flurry of masked chefs shuffling around their stations. What felt like more servers than I can ever remember seeing on that floor swarmed about the dining room. And everywhere there were people eating. Everywhere, except of course within about six feet on all sides of me. If my distant neighbors and I had shared a brief conversation before I finished my drink, decided there was no point in trying to stay out anymore, and headed home, it most likely would’ve consisted of an exaggerated wave and a pantomimed shout, as if we each occupied either side of an enormous cavern, and could never get much closer than we were already. It would’ve been mildly funny. And mostly true.

Andrew Genung is a writer based in Hong Kong and the creator of the Family Meal newsletter about the restaurant industry.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3eHzabl via Blogger https://ift.tt/3eDUheN

[easyfoodnetwork]

Expats gather outside bars and restaurants on Peel street in Soho Masks, temperature checks, and awkward bar vibes — one writer’s recent night out in Hong Kong could be a glimpse at America’s future On a recent Friday night in Hong Kong, two police vans idled outside an upscale Italian restaurant on Wyndham Street. Only a few months earlier, their presence might have been an ominous sign that a unit of anti-protest riot cops was in the area, tear gas and pepper spray at the ready. But as is the case for much of daily life here since January, Hong Kong has moved from a state of protest to pandemic, and that night, instead of an armed “raptor” force wearing dark green fatigues and gas masks, the vans discharged a group of what looked like ordinary patrolmen in simple short-sleeve uniforms and surgical masks. The officers had mustered in one of the city’s busiest nightlife districts to enforce the local government’s ongoing social distancing measures in response to COVID-19, many of which were first announced in late March. They stood outside on the sidewalk like nuns chaperoning a Catholic school dance, armed with rulers, ready to stalk the floor and push guests apart to “make room for the Holy Spirit.” Except in this case the school gymnasium was a bar full of consenting adults, the rulers were rolls of measuring tape, and the Holy Spirit, I assume, was the distance required for gravity to pull down tiny drops of spittle from the air between us. As cities and states across the U.S. begin to float possible dates for reopening the closed sectors of their economies, many diners and hospitality industry leaders are asking what that next phase might look like for restaurants. Because Hong Kong — along with other Asian cities like Seoul and Taipei — has largely succeeded in controlling outbreaks, and allowed its restaurants to stay open throughout the pandemic, some are asking if the present state of dining here could be a glimpse at the future for America. Can diners in Taipei, Hong Kong, Korea, China send me photos of what it looks like in restaurants. How the seating is set up? Are all the servers wearing masks and gloves. What are guests wearing? If anyone works in kitchens how are you dealing w new protocol? — Dave Chang (@davidchang) April 16, 2020 And so, with the number of newly reported COVID-19 cases in Hong Kong staying firmly in single digits over the preceding few days, I traded house socks for chukka boots, slipped on a surgical mask, and did what many in the U.S. have been longing to do for weeks. I went out for dinner. I chose Frank’s in part because it makes for a useful case study of the current regulatory climate in Hong Kong. Bars have been ordered closed, but not restaurants; Frank’s is a split-level operation, with more of a bar setup downstairs and a sit-down restaurant upstairs. The mandatory bar closure has meant that almost all of Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s famous party district, has been shut down; Frank’s sits on the edge of LKF, sandwiched between it and the equally busy but more restaurant-heavy SoHo neighborhood. Although popular with Cantonese locals for workweek lunch, at night, Frank’s is often filled with expat residents drinking Negronis and ordering the veal. Expats have come under special scrutiny recently, after a wave of travelers rushing home to the city from hot spots abroad brought new cases back with them only a few weeks ago. Normally, it would cost me less than $1 to take the subway or minibus from my house to Wyndham Street, but to minimize time spent in small, enclosed, crowded spaces, I splurged $6.50 on a cab. At the entrance to Frank’s, I was stopped by a host and was confronted with the first in a series of small obstacles to eating out: the temperature check. Well before COVID-19, it would’ve been hard to go a day in Hong Kong and not see someone wearing a mask. They’re common enough that if you met a friend on the street and someone asked you later if the friend had worn one, you might not remember. In restaurants, I’d seen staff wearing masks from time to time too, though almost never in more upscale situations. But at Frank’s — as with every other restaurant I checked in on — all staff wore the same thin, blue surgical masks Hong Kongers had been wearing on the street for years. While Hong Kong’s pre-existing mask culture somewhat prepared me, in the U.S., it might have felt a little like a mass text had gone out on Halloween, where the in-joke was that instead of asking everyone to dress in a sexy costume, every costume would be a surgeon: Surgeon servers. Surgeon cooks. A surgeon DJ. Even having lived with regular mask culture for years now — and among their near-ubiquity for weeks — seeing every single person who handled my food and drink wear the tell-tale sign of medical caution was jarring. Still, not long into the meal, as the unnerving feeling began to subside, it was quickly replaced by communication issues. I’ve heard a lot of people lament the non-verbal communication lost behind masks, the missed smiles or bitten lips, but more difficult for me were the few times I couldn’t understand what my server was trying to ask me. He was enunciating clearly at a volume well above the ambient noise, but without seeing half his face, he may as well have held his hand behind his back and asked me, “How many fingers?” “Sure,” I replied the first time this happened, and the result was a side of squash I didn’t think I’d ordered. (It was great.) After dinner, I picked my own mask up off my knee, where it had remained throughout the meal, and headed downstairs for a cocktail. I ordered at the bar, got my drink at the bar, and then immediately had to walk away from the bar and stand against the far wall. The bar itself had no stools, and featured printouts explaining that customers could not hang out at the bar. In a total reverse of the usual crush to buy drinks, the few guests in the quarter-full room were clustered in small groups against the far wall with me. Only they weren’t with me at all. When you sit at the bar you are part of a continuum, long or short, curved or straight, finite or infinitely looped, that counts everyone seated anywhere along it as also at the bar. Downstairs at Frank’s, we were all standing up while observing social distance. Me trying to join any one group would have been the awkward equivalent of pulling up a seat to a table full of unsuspecting strangers upstairs. Not having the stomach for that, I downed my drink, put my money on the bar and left. Police on Wyndham Street prepare to enforce social distancing rules on Friday night Pens used to fill out health declaration forms at Yardbird HK are individually sterilized after each use Outside, I walked back past the cops and did a quick loop through an eerily empty Lan Kwai Fong, before wandering back up towards Soho to see how restaurants were doing there. Turning up Peel Street, I was only half-surprised to see several large gaggles of maskless expats drinking out in front of restaurants on the dead-end road. You know that particular genre of sports bloopers where an athlete begins celebrating right on the verge of winning, only to have victory snatched away by someone actually digging for those last few inches? I’ve gotten some good schadenfreude out of those scenes, but with only one new case of COVID reported in Hong Kong the day before my night out, these people felt like the last link on our whole city’s relay team, and their confidence made me nervous. I moved on, and tried to stop in a wine bar that sells enough charcuterie, cheese, and other no-cook food to maybe pass as a restaurant, but the man at the front desk of its building told me that the entire floor was closed. I stopped into the lobby of a high rise on Wellington Street, hoping to finally try the “martini 3-ways” at VEA Lounge, the cocktail bar one flight down from Vicky Cheng’s French-Chinese tasting menu restaurant, VEA, but the button for the 29th floor didn’t work at all. Then I remembered that Yardbird Hong Kong had reopened. It closed for 14 days starting March 23, after word of infected diners at another restaurant group got out. But it was back in business now, albeit under a new regime of health and safety measures. There was a wait, as usual, but nowhere to do the waiting. The front room, where I’ve spent several past pre-dinner hours nursing a cocktail or two while my name moved up the host’s list, had been converted from a mostly standing-room bar area into a second sit-down-only dining room. Anyone not yet seated would have to wait outside. I gave my phone number and went for a walk around the block. When I did finally get in, the host took my temperature and asked me to sign a form declaring that in the last 14 days I had not been outside of Hong Kong, hung out with anyone outside of Hong Kong, and/or had COVID-19 or symptoms of COVID-19. I also gave my name, phone number, and email address, so that should anyone present that night later test positive, they could contact me. I’d had to give the same personal information at Frank’s as well, so that now, despite paying cash at both venues, there was a point-by-point record of my night just floating out there in the ether, my American right-to-privacy preferences be damned. Diners at Yardbird sit four to a table max, in a dining room at 50 percent capacity by law The host told me she had never had problems from anyone about the health form, but there had been larger groups who got annoyed at having to separate into tables of four or fewer. On my own, I was led to a two-top in the middle of the back dining room, ordered a cocktail, and read on my phone. At 50 percent capacity, the place was still lively, but even if the kinetic feeling of the restaurant was still there, some of the potential energy for a solo diner had been stripped away. I’m usually fairly confident being out on my own, but something about sitting so far from another table — even an empty one in one of my favorite Hong Kong restaurants — was uncomfortable. Steam rose in the open kitchen, swirling past a flurry of masked chefs shuffling around their stations. What felt like more servers than I can ever remember seeing on that floor swarmed about the dining room. And everywhere there were people eating. Everywhere, except of course within about six feet on all sides of me. If my distant neighbors and I had shared a brief conversation before I finished my drink, decided there was no point in trying to stay out anymore, and headed home, it most likely would’ve consisted of an exaggerated wave and a pantomimed shout, as if we each occupied either side of an enormous cavern, and could never get much closer than we were already. It would’ve been mildly funny. And mostly true. Andrew Genung is a writer based in Hong Kong and the creator of the Family Meal newsletter about the restaurant industry. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/3eHzabl

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/04/heres-what-eating-out-might-look-like.html