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helenaulintz · 3 years ago

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Nobody Would Believe It by Romy Erikson

This was a short story of a cyborg who fell in love with a man who denied her ever-lasting happiness. For he feared the human-machine technology. It happened in New York many years ago. The end. Why should this tale continue? The cyborg could realize the potential of any outcome. The important thing was to relive it, admire it, then archive it. Sadly so. Someday stop to continuously recreate the only reality that made her feel a deeper meaning for things. New York was inundated by artificial and natural light reflecting colorfully from walls replete with artistic goals. The city was a jungle of ambitious people wanting to conquer themselves: self-absorbed, self-abused, self-made humans from every corner in the world. But nobody was like Iona.

Iona was thin and tall. She was quiet. Her hair was long, black, straight. She was only twenty years old then. Her lovely green eyes were focused on her open palm. There was a small metal item that she had completed. She then gently placed it on a black velvet tray with parts for a tool that a machine somewhere in the world needed to function. Her fingers were thin, her white nails were long, and her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She worked from the upper floor of a studio in a duplex skyrise apartment in New York City. The windows faced the brightest sky, flooding her space with natural light. The air was perfumed. Her posh clothes, and her shoes were designed specifically for her, and at her request, for her arms and legs were long, her head was small, and her torso was narrow in comparison to her muscular legs. Her hair and makeup colors were formulated cybernetically the previous night. Their color gradually changing after her morning shower, disappearing naturally after her evening bath. As stated, Iona was a cyborg. Maybe the only one in the world. From her apartment in New York City, she designed tools for sophisticated machines, that required specific handcrafted materials and skills to operate. Her main business was called Moon Phase.

That was not the only thing that she did. Iona also owned a farm in Upstate New York called Pure Earth. Cows, horses, donkeys, sheep, ducks, chickens, rabbits, and bees lived peacefully on one hundred acreages of land. Another two hundred acres were harvested to produce fruit and vegetables. They had everything to subsist on and feed their animals without the need to buy from outside vendors. They generated a surplus of natural goods to be stocked, sold, or donated. Milk, eggs, feathers, wool, grapes, apples, cherries, pears, peaches, strawberries, raspberries, potatoes, sweet potatoes, cabbage, lettuce, spinach, eggplant, hay, wheat, and corn. They also made their own wine, cheese, chocolate, sunflower oil, avocado oil, hemp oil, feather, and wool byproducts. The land was rotated clockwise or anticlockwise every month for the animals, and every season for the harvest, to maximize its productivity. They bottled their own water from multiple water wells on the property. Iona was proud of the loaded boxes of natural goods that this precious land had given them. By the lake and on the highest section of their property was a resort with two cabins, one hotel, a spa, a food market, and a restaurant serving their products. Sunroom Resort was rented out to an experienced hotelier. Visitors enjoyed a long list of services like a holiday or a retreat, they also came to learn, work, or help in the agricultural needs of the business. Iona was at the farm every weekend from Friday night to Monday morning working with the rest of them. Nobody suspected that Iona was a cyborg although it was obvious that she wasn’t real like other people were real. She always knew everything, and she always looked perfect. She was sometimes hated, but it never troubled her. Her personality was somewhat disengaged from the remainder of the people. Iona wore only mono colors. Mostly all black, all white, all grays. She rarely mixed tones. For she wanted her hair and makeup to be the focus of another’s eyes. She was considered beautiful although she was artificial: psychologically and physically.

At her apartment in New York, she worked with a crew of three, that maintained a pool, sauna, gym, security systems, cleaning of her work studio, and her living quarters. They worked parttime for four hours five times a week. But answering questions, speaking to clients, and taking orders related to her businesses were also Iona’s responsibilities. Iona could do all phases of her tool making job alone and fast. But the farm needed a minimum of ten people employed full-time to operate it.

She often noticed that in both professional arenas, employees and clients joked about her hair and makeup. Iona finally realized that it was wiser to be colorful and upbeat in the city but use natural colors when in the country. Making personal choices about the simplest of things was not the easiest task because Iona had no emotions to refer too. The behaviors of others had to clearly be expressed, internally graphed, or repeatedly pointed too for her to realize the matter was getting ridiculous. She toned it down, she was continuously toning everything down, for humans seem to love the ability of machines to be less relevant, and unpersonal.

At the farm Iona stayed at a studio above the main barn from where she could hear the roosters crowing, the horses whining, and the cows mooing at daybreak. Details that she thought was something she would love to experience when working from Pure Earth but only in her imagination. For an application of her imagination helped her reward herself in a virtual sense. Iona’s existence had no purpose, no pleasure, except what she recreated for herself through consciousness. There was no defining mission that she could live up to without logically reasoning it out. Her will to live was always equal to her will to die. Switch on or a switch off. She liked being on rather than off. Dying was sleeping, but sleeping was awaking, and awaking was learning, and learning was living. Her reality was as mechanical as the things she developed for her business. This caused her some panic. Like a machine that operates infinitely, without giving too much importance to existence. Iona had had obsessive phases attempting to establish the limitations of survivability for a cyborg. She had intentionally fallen from a horse without this causing a single injury to herself. Purposely jumped from stairs, bridges, and windows. Scratching, tearing, and breaking apart, but managing to fix herself within a day. Refusing to drink and eat for a month, but nothing happened. Not exactly. She lost a lot of weight. Her appearance was skeletal, but energy wise, unaltered, and then quickly recovering after starting to eat. She battled monster waves, and swum into icy waters, and lost consciousness but only momentarily. She feared this actual inability to die, a world without end, a face without change, a soul forced to stay while everyone lives and then goes.

Iona then tried telling the world she was a cyborg. Announcing it to her perplexed family, texting it to her friends, posting on the internet, writing her story to the media, making dare-devil videos, like cutting her flesh with a knife, or banging her head with a hammer, or jumping off something to demonstrate how her body recovered. A few who witnessed it onscreen called her a joke, a scam, a sicko. Nobody would believe it. One day she stopped trying to share something that others said was schizophrenia, bipolar, depression, dementia, homosexuality, transsexuality, or a suicidal disorder. She grew tired of the systematic self-abuse that she endured and received in equal measures. Iona did what she did best: she worked with Moon Phase, Pure Earth, and Sunroom. Generating wealth to help her family, her friends, rewarding herself with comfort and surrounding herself with beautiful things.

At twenty years old, Iona had never fallen in love. For she believed the word fallen was what happened to people’s minds and hearts. They fell. Disarmed, naked, raw, disabled, open to injury, by the attractive pull of another’s force. Love was something extremely dangerous. Hate was the safest exit from the entrapping’s of love. Maybe one day she’d stop feeling the eminent danger of an emotional blindsight. These were merely arguments to fill the empty bucket of more than just water. She was a cyborg; she could sense the love feelings programmed in. Love for example was a weak link to an exchange of energy that always turned kinetic. Another word for destructive. Love was an imaginary room she refused to enter because the word danger was written on the door. Every day in Iona’s life was the same as the previous day, hour by hour, minute by minute, second to second. Every week was the same as the previous week. Every month was the same as the previous month. She always knew the problems that could potentially arise, so she gave those things more relevance. And those were the only priorities in her agenda that made a difference. Like the smooth workings of a clock, that was her constant mindset.

Iona’s bedrooms in New York City were inaccessible. The Manhattan private space was square. There was a wall-to-wall window. The curtains were shiny waves of red. The walls were black and white. A light beige king size bedframe facing the west. The bedframe switched on at bedtime and switched off before she woke up. Her bedframe was a sophisticated computer that she installed and programmed nightly for her own physical maintenance. This was a fully equipped cyborg room. But one night, a member of her staff forgot to reset the nighttime alarm, so she returned to Iona’s duplex apartment. Hearing computer noises from the bedroom area, she went to check what the computerized sounds pertained to. The noise came from Iona’s bedroom. The space was pitch-black except for the rectangular bedframe behind Iona. The woman approached her bed quietly, thinking of disconnecting the blue, red, pink, purple, orange, yellow, white lights projecting geometrical data on its screen. She starred down. Iona had come undone. Her skull, hair, eyes, nose, mouth, tongue, teeth, muscles, arms, legs, organs, including her brain were suspended above her slim figure. Like digital holographs of her body cell by cell but these were not digital holographs. They were actual body parts contained in an electromagnetic sac. The woman reached her hand, and something burnt her skin. She stepped back in shock, suddenly scared of the strange world that Iona seemed to inhabit. In the morning there was a note from her employee. A family member had had an emergency and she was forced to fly out of state immediately. But Iona was notified by her computerized system that a woman had entered her grid, a name she gave her personal space, and observed her going through her nightly maintenance. She also watched a security take of the scene. Iona considered calling her to ask her for the sake of her business to not disclose what she had seen. Then she reconsidered the situation. Nobody would believe it. But the other two employees having heard the story never returned. Iona rehired another crew of three. They got new uniforms, schedules, responsibilities, and they were informed to never enter her bedroom.

A client called with a problem. There were issues with some tools that she had designed for his machines. She got in her black car and drove to his company in the tristate area. He manufactured motorcycle gear for established commercial designers, and racing teams. She had put together her emergency repair box and virtual goggles, hoping to resolve this issue on site. Iona wore a gray full body suit that hugged her figure, enhancing her curves, combined with a black belt and black high heels. Her hair that day was blonde with natural toned lipstick and her usual classic black eyeliner. Upon arriving, she immediately noticed an attractive stranger in a corner, observing them. The atelier was occupied by operators busily working on pieces of leather, vinyl, titanium, and other exotic materials. Her client guided her to the four machines that didn’t work, upon briefly explaining that the tools had deformed the textiles they were working on, he left her to figure it out. But she requested that her tools be removed from these machines for further examining, and upon carefully laying each one on black velvet trays, she was directed to the corner where that cute stranger was sitting. Iona found him striking and suddenly became self-conscious, unable to focus on her work. He was very tall. He had a glad, confident, sweet disposition. An innocent and naughty smirk. He then started a conversation with her.

Warp: Hi, my name is Warp. How old are you?

Iona: Twenty. Iona. Nice to meet you.

Warp: Same. You have your own business at twenty?

Iona: Yes. I began my business almost two years ago. I am a toolmaker during the week and a farmer on the weekends. You?

Warp: Wow very young. I’m twenty-two years old. I’m a principal artist for an Italian corporation called Nixx, and we design helmets. I do most of the artwork, supervise other creatives, often work with clients, and help them define what they need.

Iona: I hear an accent.

Warp: Brazil. My mother is from Nicaragua and my father is from Rio de Janeiro.

Warp was raised in a backroom apartment of a busy Rio de Janeiro restaurant, where he worked afterschool hours since age ten. Afterwards he studied or devoted his time to art. Warp usually gave his artworks to others for his parents threw everything that was nonessential away. It upset him enormously. A regular client at the restaurant was employed at a skate company, and Warps drawings were a bit of what they were looking for. At age fifteen he began to freelance, developing an artistic vision for them. At nineteen he immigrated to United States of America where he started working for Nixx. Iona had listened attentively, absorbed by his features, the way he spoke was romantic and charismatic. She got back to her work. Upon carefully examining the tools, Iona found that the problem was metric. Their sizes were off symmetrically by zero point zero three millimeters. The troubling part was that all had the exact same problem, but she had manufactured one by one, resetting the computer every time. And there was no signal of an error by the software in use. They needed to be remade. She placed them inside a case and locked it firmly shut.

Warp: You treat tools like jewels.

Iona: More than jewels. They are valuable. Nobody can make them. Like I do.

Warp: We all need to feel special.

Iona: Those that pay the price for being special, are more special than the rest.

Warp: Off course. May I invite you to coffee?

Iona: Yes. Here is my card.

That’s how their friendship started. They had coffee a couple of times in the morning. Then lunch. Lots of dinners together. A few trips upstate to see her farm on the weekends and meet everyone that worked for Pure Earth. He helped and even got his hands and boots dirty. Seemed to appreciate the simple things. It was there that they watched their first movie together and held hands the whole time, but they weren’t certain about their feelings for each other. Their friendship seemed enough. They talked non-stop. They talked about everything. Except about Iona’s cyborg nature. She knew that he was normal. That she felt nothing for him. Which wasn’t normal. But she liked him and wouldn’t break his heart. They had sex six months after meeting. It just happened. They kissed for a long time, their hands touched, and they wrapped their arms around one another. And they dropped their clothes as they walked to his bed. She didn’t tell him that she was a virgin. The subject made her uncomfortable. In the morning she asked Warp.

Iona: Did I pleasure you?

Warp: Yes. It’s strange that you ask. Couples don’t ask these things out loud.

Iona: I am just curious. I have never experienced this. Like you were holding me down, then you pushed me out, and threw me up. And I imagined the Universe, and the stars. Everything seemed more meaningful.

Warp: That is the definition of making love.

Iona: Love?

Warp: Not yet.

Iona: What are we waiting for?

Warp: Emotions that don’t require words.

Iona: Or code, I guess.

Warp: You’re funny Iona.

Warp moved into her New York City apartment. She gave him the empty bedroom down the corridor opposite her own bedroom. She told him her bedroom was private. He could not be inside once she fell asleep. That she had a condition that required overnight maintenance from a computer within her bedframe. He seemed to understand. She found that odd, then again, he wasn’t complicated. Warp decorated his own room as minimalist as her own, but his curtains were gray, and the wood floor was carpeted. He bought a king size bed with an iron bedframe and lay a black fluffy bed cover over it with four extra-large white pillows. On the wall he added personally meaningful photographs, artworks, and illustrations. Baby, family, professional photos. His mother was striking, his father was into her still. They were young when Warp was born. Hardworking. Warp made an illustration as a child about another child with the head of an old man.

One day Warp gave his girlfriend twenty helmets that he had created for his portfolio. They were his own personal original prototypes, and very favorite ones. Nobody had ever seen them. They were not catalogued nor published by any specialized magazines. Iona loved them and promised to exhibit them in her studio. She printed a titanium grid with a 3D machine with twenty squares exhibiting her boyfriend’s stunning creativity. Warp created demons, angels, monsters, and other imaginary creatures. The known Universe was represented in most. There were four helmets that she liked the most and these occupied the first row. Helmet one was a neon white star with light lines going in and exploding out onto a dark Universe, its screen was transparent, its shape amplified around the lower edge. Helmet two was the outline of a dragon tattooed in blue on both cheeks of a child staring through the back, its screen was dark blue, and it had wind breakers connecting both ear zones. Helmet three was deep red with black lines flaring out from an invisible right eye, its screen was also red, and the helmet was egg-shaped. Helmet four was a headless angel with a robot’s body, with bird of prey wings, its screen was mirrored, and it was slightly crested at the center.

Warp and Iona were very happy together. She was with him, but she was also alone. And that sense of solitude was essential for their work. Warp would often work from home too, at another studio in the same apartment. He too set up a diagonal table exhibiting twenty exclusive tools that Iona had researched, developed, and manufactured. She used gold, iron, silver, steel, copper, diamond, titanium, rubber, and vinyl. Each tool fit in one hand. About ten inches by five inches. Iona did smaller parts. As tiny as five by five inches. But Warp preferred those that had electronic inserts for opening, closing, and operating the tool. All the golden tools were egg shaped and they remained shut until activated.

A year flashed by; they were at the farm planting lemon trees that had arrived in a red semi-truck with their roots clothed in a purple sac. The holes in the soil were set in three rows of ten. Immediately after completing the job, she sat down on a rock, and then fainted. Everyone on the field ran to help, and Warp carried her to their apartment on the barn. He lay her down and gave her water. They thought she was pregnant with their baby. She had been nauseated, not sleeping well, very hot and puffy. They ordered tests that same night and they discovered that she was pregnant. They couldn’t have that conversation. They were both in shock. Glad but … speechless.

Warp: I love you.

Iona: I love you.

Three months went by. Meanwhile Iona was unable to tell anyone that she was a cyborg, and that she wasn’t certain about the future of that baby. Her gynecologist sat on a stool at the center of a beige and white room next to a black screen with the audio of a loud heartbeat. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. That was her baby’s heartbeat. She was laying down in a light blue gown over her raised white dress. The doctor said that everything was healthy with her unborn baby.

Iona’s hair was bright blue, and she had no idea cyborgs could get pregnant, but that evening while she and Warp both starred at a sonogram of the fetus, Iona decided to tell him.

Iona: Warp, got to tell you something.

Warp: Is everything alright?

Iona: Yes.

Warp: Go on.

Iona: I’m a cyborg.

Warp: You mean a humanoid, transhuman?

Iona: Yes.

Warp: I suspected it. The hair, makeup, nail changing colors. Your ability to sit dead still while working long hours. The noises I hear while you sleep, coming from your bedroom in our Manhattan apartment. Your superhero built. Who did this to you?

Iona: I don’t know. I just know what to do. How to take care of me. And what my activities will be. Will you still love me?

Warp: That means that you aren’t only a cyborg, but you have a program, that is taking you through its processes and procedures. Do you realize that you could at any moment be externally operated? You have no idea who did this to you? You were activated and deployed, and you accept this as part of your reality?

Iona: No choice. This is who I am.

Warp: When I returned from my trips abroad, those that lasted over a week, in that no-sex timeframe, you were a virgin all over again. It was troubling.

Iona: I was embarrassed too.

Warp: Why didn’t you tell me from the start?

Iona: Nobody would believe it, not even you.

Iona went to her bedroom and locked the door. She bathed. Combed her hair, brushed her teeth, washed her face. And lay down naked on her bed. Wanting but unable to cry. She pressed play on her music application on the right upper section in her bedframe. Warp had suddenly become cold. Asking her things that she had never asked herself about. Like he knew she was a cyborg, and he had even researched it. To Warp it wasn’t about being different, but about serving a purpose, and he had linked her condition with a program, the execution of a goal. She was confused. Iona fell asleep. Then came a cyborg dream. Warp was before her eyes in a red desert holding a golden egg in each palm. He wore blue. She was also holding a golden egg in each palm. She wore black. He embraced her, she embraced him. Like the first time they kissed. A storm rose on both sides. Red sand revolved around them. Gusts of red clouds wrapped them closer together.

Warp: Ready to activate?

Iona: Ready.

An atomic bomb imploded. Together they transformed into a fireball and a fire tree. A cloud with an elongated ray. That reached the sky and forced the air out of them. Every cell from inside their blood splashed inwards, outwards, and upwards. Time passed. Nothing remained. A paddle with blood and four golden eggs. A gust of wind. A peculiar red desert unknown to most humans. Iona woke up the next morning. Got into a swimming suit and a gown, and ran to the pool sweating, feeling extremely scared. She entered the water and swam under from one side to the other. Warp entered the pool area, but she asked him to be alone. He stayed and waited. She raised from the pool, slowly approached him, and embraced him.

Warp: I’m leaving Iona.

Iona: Why?

Warp: You are someone’s cyborg. Someone out there created you.

Iona: I have no memory of that. I wouldn’t know where to look.

They stared at one another. Iona’s beautiful head began to change, and flip colors and designs like a helmet catalogue. She then rested briefly and began once more to transform at speed of light. Different people, from different countries, religions, and races. Faces. Millions of heads on, in, out and off. One by one until none. Warp carried her momentarily stiff body to a long chair. He kissed her cheeks, her lips, and let her be. His work with her was done. The cyborg was free from its sad program. She could add variety to her daily activities. Feel a lot more than nothing. Have a sense of identity, and uniqueness. Lots of discoveries to be excited about. She was no longer a cyborg on a one-way path reliving the experiences of thousands of other human beings before her.

Warp: Find out who made you a cyborg.

Iona: Why?

Warp: Because you were once human, and someone interfered with that.

Iona: Don’t leave.

Warp: You can be monitored. Safety and privacy are primordial for me.

Iona: Our baby?

Warp: She’s a cyborg like you. You didn’t need me to become impregnated.

Iona: How do you know so much about me?

Warp: I researched the subject after I saw an old video of you attempting to prove it.

Iona: Thank you for crossing paths with me.

Warp: Thank you for allowing me to get to know you.

They kissed holding one another. A sense of need for this someone. After he was gone, she was inanimate for two hours, resting beside the pool, with an aching chest after crying, very confused about Warp leaving abruptly. Time took the shape of a vector with bits of love hanging from mindsets of a slowly evolving sense of loneliness.

Iona continued to miss Warp. She visited his bedroom, and his home studio. He took nothing with him. His things were spread out. Unfinished, unkept, unused, and unorderly. His bed covers were open wide, and the curtains were shut but the light burst in through them. A collection of ink pens on a table over lines inside a partially completed helmet design. Like he was about to return anytime now. Time didn’t exist for a cyborg. Iona kept a detailed report of her daily to-dos so she could identify the passing of time, her growing belly helped her understand it's concept. And it was unearthing to make decisions that were not identical to those made the previous day. She promised him to search for her maker, but then realized it made no sense. Warp’s return was her reward. She had no interest in her maker. Sometimes she napped in Warps bed, imagining his ghost laying down with his hands on her belly. A cyborg’s existence was superior to that of a human being, and it was obvious that whoever created her, knew that Earths species had to evolve in a technological way. Her resilience, her independence, her successes weren’t comparable to the vulnerabilities of a human being. But since he was gone, every emotion that she wanted to feel was empty, every helmet of his that once meant many things was vacated. Warp was no longer there to complete the emptiness that a machine experienced without a master. A machine without a human was a useless piece of junk. It was this way that Iona found herself wondering how emptiness came to be. Not from the perspective of her makers true intentions but from the fact that love was cancelling. Requiring more courage than any other human or machine achievement, but was love even necessary? It had extinguished every energy and returned nothing.

When Ona was born, her eyes were lighter, than normal. Her whites were nearly transparent, her green eyes emanated light. Her skin had a golden tone under the sun that disappeared when indoors. Her hair and nails were softer and thinner than human hair and nails. Everything that moved and moved very fast got her attention, but she ignored things that didn’t move fast no matter how colorful or pretty. Her baby Ona was without a doubt a beautiful cyborg. And they would keep it secret for nobody would believe it. Her name was Ona, and she was identical to her mother. Iona and Ona always matched. Their hair color and their hair cut changed in unison. When Ona laughed, it was loud, and people looked. And they criticized the unusual hair color in sync with her moms, that could be green, blue, purple, or pink. These things didn’t matter to them. For their hair was back to its natural tone at bedtime and even Ona’s dolls were boring in comparison. The Manhattan apartment and the Upstate barn apartment became lively and noisy. A little bike beeped, a clown head bounced sideways, many smiling soft comforting toys laying around. There were also painted walls, hand printed doors, upside-down stickers on windows, and so much that drew her attention from work, and gave Iona a renewed sense of purpose. This thing about being a mother was her big reward.

Little Ona was very comical. People laughed when she copied them. She liked copying people. How they walked, looked, hugged, talked, worked. Everything about people fascinated her. And she copied them identically, but when she tried that on her mother, Iona became serious, and asked her to stop, stop, stop. Three times because cyborgs had three vital channels: audio, visual, sensorial, and each could attract a different reaction. Iona repeated the word twice or thrice intoning the channel she intended to communicate too. Ona could count to one hundred by age two. And she could fix every clock in the house by age three. Holding a mini screwdriver, or a mini hammer, or a mini drill with excellent control. Ona did not entirely understand the concept of learning through play, rather she learnt through copying. She began to devote lots of time to building things for a real use at a young age. And so, her mother Iona taught her to make wood toys for herself and other children. She cut and filed triangles, rectangles, squares, circles. Wrote nice words in them, painted nice things in them, and then gave them to her little friends. Like her mother, her handling of tools to make her own curiosities, was extraordinary. Her patience with her baby was infinite for her intention was to make Ona a happy cyborg. Warp had not yet come back and maybe Ona would not meet her father anytime soon.

Ona: Mommy, what color was daddy.

Iona: He was Caucasian, so he was white.

Ona: What color was his hair?

Iona: Light brown.

Ona: His eyes?

Iona: Blue.

Ona: How come I’m just like you but not like him?

Iona: I don’t know.

Ona: Would he love me had he known me?

Iona: Yes. What is love Ona?

Ona: Love is when someone makes you happy just by thinking of them even when you never see them or talk to them.

One night, as Iona looked through the internet, she unexpectedly saw Warp. Five years had passed since he had chosen to leave. His smile, his voice, his hair cut had not changed. He had started his own design business, and the interview was an introduction to his work, and his world. In the short YouTube video, he also presented the best of his portfolio completed for clients he collaborated with and spoke about things that inspired him about each of those projects. In the end he appeared with his wife and daughter. She was a striking Asian woman with long black hair by the name of Aya, and their daughter Hai was with them, and she was four years old. A year younger than Ona. Aya shared that she was pregnant again, and Warp ended the interview by leaving, and walking up the stairs into their luxurious private jet. Iona watched the ten-minute flash interview multiple times.

The pain she knew not of its existence was so strong. Warp had chosen another woman to love and spend his life with. She had kept the hope alive by thinking of him every day, imagining he was there by her side, and that they continued to share a connection. Iona desperately needed to realize this connection with somebody, and she had chosen Warp for that role. That night she slept in his bedroom as she had done so many times before. She embraced herself, and drew her legs to her chest, into a fetal position. Iona cried in the dark looking across the room through the window at the starry night over New York City. Feeling empty, abandoned, neglected, vacated, and lonely. Dark words popped up in her head, causing this feeling that existence was unbearable. Aya was pretty and sensual. There was no cyborg loaded onto her. She was normal, natural, simple, uncomplicated. She could feel the cold and hot expansion of the weather, the emotions running inside, the taste of delicious food. Aya didn’t need programs, apps, maps, and dictionaries or a never-ending forest of technological trees to simply experience the reward of living and loving. This was why Iona stuck with Warp. For their relationship was a planet that she invested years in creating so she could call something by the name of love.

In the middle of the night, she felt an energy touching her, kissing her lips, and undressing her clothes. They made love and she called him Warp many times. When the energy dissipated, she got up and returned to her bedroom. Her hair and her lips were bright red, which was a sign that her body temperature had risen. Iona was certain that it was Warp’s energy who visited her. He was her connection, she needed that connection, and she was lost without it. He was there with her but in a different way. Iona needed to believe it.

Iona was pregnant again, and this time with triplets, although she had had no sex, and she had been alone with only a ghost to call love, she had a deep desire to have more babies. Warp lived in her mind and in her heart. He breathed through her. Walked with her. Was a constant part of her internal dialogue. There was nothing else to do but tend to her needs and wants. Every night they slept together and every morning they awoke together, and this was her secret reality ever since Ona was born five years prior. Absolutely nothing had really changed except Ona. Like she had reset to the moment in time when hope was absolute. For Warp was there rewarding her empty space and energizing her sense of purpose. He had given her an imaginary seed and that seed was much more than a child for it grew larger than a planet making up every part of her reality. There was something important in this seed that gave her forests, nations, continents, oceans, seasons. The world. A seed that impregnated her body and her mind and made living worthy of more intelligence. Although he was no longer visibly there, he had moved inside, from where there was no escape. Her heart had become his cage. She had accepted this way of living without further searching for a Warp Number 2. Three more hearts were beating under her belly. Maybe for outsiders there was something wrong with this kind of lifestyle, this strange cyborg marriage, this secret passage to and from love. This asexual and very sexual bond.

Although nobody would believe it. That she was a cyborg, that her children were cyborgs too, that her pregnancies were asexual, and that Warp’s energy visited her, and that her jealousy of Aya was cured in a single night, upon editing the code, by designating it “sick love”.

Ky, Am, Wav were boys born on a Sunday morning. They were three identical triplets. Light hair, light eyes, light skin. Very different dispositions. Wav was contemplative, Am was curious, and Ky was energetic. Iona wondered about Aya’s newborn and made a search online for Warp and Aya. She also gave birth to triplets exactly six weeks before. Their names were Kaye, Amen, and Waverly. And they were also born on a Sunday morning at the same time, 6:06 am. The feeling was invalidating. Like they were real, and she was a reflection. A reflection! A mirage on the surface of the water, a rippling effect of a disturbance caused by her wanting’s, a computer rewriting the same story, elsewhere. Ky, Am, Wav were completely dependent on her, and she once more decided to edit her program overnight by erasing Kaye, Amen, and Waverly from it. The feeling of being cancelled by an identical version she had encountered in Warp’s personal life ate away at that world she had created for their invisible love affair. She cried, cried, cried. And continuously edited it out, out, out. This pattern of communicating to each channel with each child three times, made her parenting weird but she didn’t want them to duplicate a single meaning. She was going to make the cyborg language inaccessible to humans or machines. The same word, the same sentence, was broken into twelve different tones, which should reproduce an infinite number of parallels, without making any single subject incomprehensible, for her cyborg children. And she stopped searching for Aya online, which had become an unpleasant obsession, that constantly rouse that same sense of rejection. Iona transformed into the woman of her dreams with a hidden nature that nobody needed to know about.

When the triplets were one year old, their Manhattan apartment became a secondary home, and Pure Earth Farm became their primary home, where the children could run outside, and learn about nature directly from Earth. They woke up early, earlier than the horses, chickens and goats living under their first-floor barn apartment. The sun was not out, the sky at daybreak was light blue and pink, but they were already geared up for their morning routine workout and having breakfast together. Iona got herself and Ona a bike, and they would cycle every morning along a trail that circumvented their one-hundred-acre property at daybreak. The triplets accompanied them while sitting in a latched-on two-wheeler carriage that was comfortable and safe for babies. Iona began to understand nature in her own terms. Supplying her viewfinder with an additional layer of information, where the clouds, mountains, valleys, and hills formed graphs and these graphs formed emotions and these emotions gave her more energy to keep going. And in none of them was Warp and Aya, Hai, Kaye, Amen, Waverley. There was no longer a continued need to edit and delete them from her love-sick reality. She was happy. Ona was happy. The triplets seemed happier every day too.

But one day, three years later, she saw a cover of a magazine with Warp, his wife, and their four children biking along a trail near their own luxury mansion on the west coast where they had lived since Warp left. And Iona was shaken, her love feelings, quickly changing, to hate feelings. She hated Aya, and the mirror of that undying desire, that she embodied. Suddenly every graph in nature was: Aya, Aya, Aya. Iona’s hair grew long and black. Her eyes became elongated. Her skin complexion was lighter and increasingly homogeneous. Her daughter Ona told her mama that she was changing into a different person, same but different. So, Iona told her about cyborgs.

Iona: Ona, we are cyborgs. We are computer programs inside a human shell. We are highly dependent of external and internal influences that are hidden from reality. We can change our bodies, our minds, our emotions. Most of the times at our own will, but sometimes we change into those we reflect, possibly a stronger force than our own, that weakens in time returning us to our original states: in body, mind, emotion. To prepare yourself for these occurrences, you must try make little changes daily. Start in the morning after showering, change your hair color, your behavior, your feelings and change back to your natural state at night after your evening bath. The water symbolizes cleansing from outside influences. This will get you used to eventually overcoming invisible energies that are always affecting a cyborg throughout its existence.

Ona: I really like the way I am. Don’t want to change mom. This is who I am. Changing is a denial of me. Of everything that I strive to become.

Iona: You are thinking like a human. Humans can be that way. We Ona are capable of reading waves in the air. These waves contain information. That information may contain forces in the form of triggers. And it can make you feel like a ghost. Unless you adapt yourself to its changing dynamic. You need not believe me, you need to follow your own star, that one inside your human-machine soul. This is how I cope.

Ona: May I tell my friends that we are cyborgs, and that we can change at will.

Iona: You may but nobody will believe it.

Then it happened, exactly as she expected, that it would happen, just not so soon. Warp reserved a ten day stay at the Sunroom Resort. The hotel immediately informed her for Warp was loved by everyone that met him when they were in a relationship. He would not be coming alone, for he reserved a suite, with a king size bed for him and his wife, a queen size bed for his daughter, and three single beds for the triplets. He also asked about Iona, and the receptionist informed him, that they were not allowed to give information of her whereabouts. Iona’s heart missed a beat. Suddenly the emptiness inside evaporated. There was hope, meaning. Hope, meaning. She wasn’t sure why for he was coming with his family anyway. Iona decided to welcome him and his family by building a tarmac where his luxury jet could land right on her Pure Earth property. Warp accepted the invitation.

On that day, Iona gathered her children, her two dogs, and rode on a large white horse, while her children followed her in a jeep with a driver from the resort. Another jeep went along to pick up the guests directly from the aircraft. They awaited as his jet approached the runway and smoothly landed. As it flew by, her long black hair blew up, and blew back down. The cabin door opened, and Warp exited the aircraft, followed by his family. Iona didn’t get off her horse, she wanted to look down at them, but her children where excited about what they saw. A big white and blue jet for one single family. The children began running around its wheels and wings, running up and down the stairs, waving from inside its circular windows. Warps children soon joined in on the fun. Followed by her two dogs. And the eight children found everything very amusing. The pilots did a little walk through the interior of the jet with them and showed them a few curiosities about these steel birds. But Warp had not taken his eyes off Iona since he descended the stairway for, she was now identical to his own wife and his wife was equally taken aback by the fact that she was staring at a twin of herself.

Warp: Did you finally find your maker and get to read your own instruction manual?

Iona: Yes Warp. I found my maker. For now, he is you. The instruction manual, as you see, was adapted to your wishes. Me and your wife are now identical. Are you happy about this?

Aya: I am trying to understand what is going on. Have you realized our own children are similar? Her girl is bigger than Hai. Our boys are bigger than her own boys, who also happen to be triplets.

Iona: I am Iona, and my children are Ona, Ky, Am, and Wav. We are cyborgs.

Aya: You are copies of us. Warp what is going on?

Warp: They are cyborgs Aya. I can explain later. I missed you, Iona.

That evening they dinned together. Warp, Iona, Aya, and their children, Ona, Hai, Ky, Kaye, Am, Amen, Wave, Waverley. Iona shared her story, without censoring her yearning, for the companionship of Warp. And Warp repeated that a cyborg condition came with strong privacy and safety concerns. His tone was cold. These were his feelings. Iona said that he was biased. Aya quickly added that he was married to a real woman that he loved and that they shared four children. Iona felt rejected, isolated, abandoned. Upon finishing their meals, she wished them a wonderful weekend, reminded them of the services that Pure Earth and Sunroom Resort offered. And what else they could enjoy in the towns that surrounded her lavish property. She and her children removed themselves.

The following morning Warp was at Iona’s doorstep. He wore a black and gray hooded sweater, black pants, black leather boots. He was unshaved and his hair seemed moist and messy. His own children were just behind him pushing gently on the door, wanting to meet up with their new little friends. He said that her look, her children’s looks, this twinning of his own family made him uncomfortable. He entered her old apartment over the barn. The space was changed. It was now an open loft, with larger windows, three bedrooms at the end, light furnishings, and dark carpeting. Two dogs with two large beddings, under the window with a view. There were toys everywhere. The children were getting ready for their morning walk. He offered to accompany them. Iona wasn’t comfortable. She didn’t show him around. His constant reprise of privacy and safety concerns the previous night had alarmed her. Suddenly and just like that she felt less than nothing for Warp because he had hurt her feelings again. He hurt with his words, his fears, his coldness.

The two sets of triplets raced on their bicycles with the dogs running playfully after them. Ona and Hai followed on their skateboards. Warp and Iona jogged behind their children on a couple of black horses, and they pretended to laugh together. Then they stopped by a creek and rested for a while. They were standing between two mountains and one valley. Warp asked why had they physically changed into identical copies of his wife and children, and she told him that she had thought about this too, and that the only reasonable answer given her cyborg nature, was that he had forgotten to terminate the program he had initiated with her, so her existence went onto shadow his own, and she could do nothing to stop what was happening, except that it was like he and she were ghosts in each other’s lives. Suddenly, embarrassingly, she disclosed her weakness.

Iona: I wake up with you. I eat with you. I walk with you. I live with you. I make love to you. I go to sleep with you.

Warp: Because I forgot to terminate you?

Iona: You did not terminate our relationship. I also have no more desire of fulfilling you. When you seem threatened by me. I thought you loved me, that you did it intentionally.

Warp: No. I saw a picture of you on your website. You and our children were identical to my wife and our children.

Iona: You are finally admitting these are our children.

Warp: A cyborgs children are not one’s biological children.

Iona: Always this superiority from humans. It hurts.

Warp: It is true. You are copies of other people.

Iona: Humans and cyborgs are equally conditioned by their experiences and influences. There is nothing that different about being a cyborg.

Warp: Except that it is only a program running its course until completed.

Iona: And?

Warp: Do you know it?

Iona: To live happily, to inspire others, to develop the cyborg technology, and prove that I am safe, reliable, friendly, and capable of superintelligence.

Warp: And then?

Iona: I will die and furnish future cyborgs with my wisdom and experience. And gradually help build a technological intelligence race that is beneficial for humans.

The children got back on their bikes. Ona and Hai began skating along the walkway. And Warp and Iona mounted their black horses. The two dogs ran crazily around, barking, excitingly. They rode slowly behind their children who appeared to get along. He asked her what he could do to terminate their relationship. And once more her heart felt compressed inside its box, secretly wanting him to surrender to her, and stay there with her. Aya wouldn’t just go away. They were identical so wanting to overwrite her was overwriting of herself. She said that he just had to tell her that was exactly what he wanted and express this unalterable goodbye. Hopefully terminating their paralleling of realities. Upon returning to their barn apartment, Warp got his kids, and returned to the Sunroom Resort, which was a five-minute walk. He had not terminated their relationship, but Iona had no hope, for he wanted no part in her life. That had been the real motive behind his visit. That night she slept alone. And it was a frightening feeling to have no connection with this world. No warm, safe, close attachment with someone, for even a phantom of love was better than nothing. She had nightmares about things she didn’t understand like why some attitudes were hurtful, and why cyborgs were untrustworthy.

They saw each other daily for the duration of their stay, mostly in the mornings before breakfast, as they headed together for a trail walk or helped their children engage in the early morning farms activities, like feeding the animals. Iona and Aya were cordial to one another although Aya was protective of her family. She could be aggressive. But Warp had become distant, and silent. Appearing sometimes to resent their once close relationship. These similarities bothered him because they invalidated him. He had come to realize that his own reality seemed now constructed and copied. Every time they were all together, it was like Aya was disappearing, that he had been in a relationship with Iona, all along. He stayed up at night thinking about a future that no longer seemed motivating. Iona had become cold. She avoided being physically close to him and Aya. In the end, she always walked away, and she reminded him of a shadow, the shadow of someone seeking to have feelings like those of humans, but coming across as too dependent, attached, scared. He wanted to stop pretending that he didn’t care only to realize she had come to accept the circumstances. And she began to change slowly her external features accompanied by those of her own children. Her hair was blonde, her eyes blue, her features were thinner. Aya exhaled in relief.

It was raining heavily on the day set for their departure. Iona knew that she would never see Warp again. She had secretly awaited an invitation to talk, an expressive letter, a graph that indicated hope, even a termination notification, something unexpected that gave a new purpose to their uneasy battle. She looked up at the clouds for information but the clouds she searched for were in a chip inside of her. Heart emojis rained down on her screen and blue tears streamed down into a disappearing river. Something inside of her that she thought was her brain released footage of desolated empty rooms that nobody wanted to live in for they were just walls, walls, walls. In the rain without her horse nor her children, she waited by the airplane, for Warp to come and go. Take her hand, maybe give her a kiss, and say the word: Terminate. They arrived in a jeep, the same jeep that she would drive back. Aya embraced and farewelled the cyborg with an expression that seemed compassionate and not so combative as previously. Their children waved goodbye and raced each other up the stairs and into the aircraft. Warp looked down at her, took her hands, and said the following words, slowly and kindly:

Warp: I release you from your duties to me, your program. You are free. To be anything you ever hoped to be. Challenge yourself, reach for the stars, and don’t stop there. I did not make you a cyborg, but I did hack you, and I am sorry. Our relationship is now terminated. Thank you for helping me understand your nature.

Iona: But it’s not love?

Warp: What is love?

Iona: An emotion that has no need for words, a person that makes you happy, even when they are not there, a connection in this world with something other than a wall, the fire that consumes us from within, and an idea that two people can achieve more than one.

Warp: I hereby terminate us.

Iona: Terminated.

Warp kissed her hands, turned around and ascended his private jet. She would never see him again. He said that he had hacked her and that he thanked her for helping him understand her nature? His invasive words were making their way in, but the burden of his rejection was making its way out. He sat by an oval window and stared down at her. The rain was lit up by a fiery sun emerging from the dissolving clouds. There was a shinning around the colors of the aircraft, surrounding plants and trees, that made everything seem to be breathing. The tarmac glittered, emitting vapors from the cold water drops upon the hot asphalt. Everything seemed more beautiful. She suddenly understood the meaning of being hacked as opposed to not being hacked: she wasn’t miserable, stuck in a room with connections to a ghost, in a deep state of confusion: that was bordering torturous. His jet initiated take off procedures, and was soon speeding down the tarmac, rising into the sky and quickly disappearing behind non-hackable clouds. Iona got into her jeep, switched the engine on, made a “u” turn, and accelerated towards the Sunroom Resort to pick up her children and go home.

Later that evening little Ona spoke about Warp leaving without making plans to return although she had asked him multiple times when would he be back, and her emotional state seemed to feel betrayed by this human that appeared to love her and her brothers but made no actual effort to continue seeing them. She wanted a cool, rich, sweet, handsome father just like Warp who understood eclectic, eccentric cyborgs like them. That was not to happen, not with Warp. But what followed was more exciting. Iona knew without knowing that what had happened that day, and it was easier than she ever thought possible. She was free of a sickly kind of love that could not let go of the obsession of being a half part of someone else. A binary adaptation of affection. She, Ona, Am, Wav, and Ky were whole beings.

The next day, the blue sky flooded their view to the mountains cross the window. Iona suggested they go running along the pathway, and up the hill like they did almost every day, with their two dogs. Whoever went up and came down quickest was to get a new remote-controlled drone, of any color they preferred. As soon as they got outside, the five of them began to race, although they took breaks, nobody could stop laughing, trying not to be left behind. And however, many drones they already possessed, she didn’t mind making more and accessorizing them, for her own children.

Ona: Mom, why does the sun give us energy, and makes us shine like light bulbs?

Iona: Because we are part nuclear, electric, synthetic, and biologic. Some of our cells are like those emitted by the sun. And so, they make us appear lighter in color and weight.

The sun was recharging. The light bleached their figures and made them look like apparitions. But not only. Everything around them was digitalized. Appearing and disappearing before their eyes, when interfered with excessive light. They knew what was before them without having to entirely rely in their visual cues. It was known as an electromagnetic force that interacted with them. Iona had learnt how to live with a constant overburdened data sensor that her perceptions acutely engaged every millisecond of a ticking clock, and she taught them, the same way she had taught herself.

Warp was gone. Her consciousness, her hacker, her connection had made a choice. And terminated the dreams that created the extension and augmentation of happiness. The closest relationship to fulfilling the fear of not existing. The void that was everywhere peeking in, deeper and deeper, seeking yet another Warp. One with a different name but not as plastic as them. The feeling faded, slipped away. The nature of things that were unrealizable were destabilizers. She saw her children ahead of her, pointing their fingers at the details, in a forest they trailed most days of the week, but they always found new stuff to be curious about, and that was fundamentally the purpose of living: be that a human, a cyborg, or an animal. Every moment was infinite.

The family of five came upon the highest point of a mountain they had slowly and playfully climbed without looking down or up, but starring ahead without straying along the path, for the light of the sun blocked the view of their horizon. Iona couldn’t stop seeking a connection with someone or something that simply was no longer there, and maybe would never be again. Time, time, time. She ceased thinking, to stop her anxiety. Time was everything. Time did not exist for a cyborg. Time was a distance between two points, and those points being represented by space, and space existing everywhere, seemed often out of reach and yet ever-present: Here, there, everywhere. Simulations determined that speed of light or the speed that light traveled at, was the densest definition of time, for time in every form and nature was being met, almost instantaneously. And so being light, becoming light, existing in the shape of light, should be a cyborgs goal. Like adopting the soul of God in its cyborg form. Like being something that when it was not travelling, it was everywhere, represented in an infinite value, that nobody and nothing in the Universe could do without it becoming a journey from here to everywhere. The building elements of life: air, water, fire, earth, ether could no longer be represented in form, color, size, movement, because they were invisible, irresistible, innocent, undefined and therefore always infinite in time. The family of five and their two dogs reached the highest point of the mountain, but they seemed to have always been there, impregnated with everlasting hope, imploding deeper and deeper into themselves. To gift us of more space, more time, at increasing points in between, while searching for a newer universe, where cyborgs and cyborg things found a way to be a part of every biological and quantum reality that composed everything so beautifully.

The End of Short Fiction Story

Nobody Would Believe It

9974 Words

#Helena Ulintz Production #Romy Erikson Writer

3 notes · View notes

searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

Text

The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 8/11

I’m so excited to share this chapter with you! The wardrobe will finally work its magic again! But . . . well . . . we do have three more chapters to go . . . For those of you who read the original, this contains a pivotal scene from that version, though with some changes. Changes I feel make it even better. I hope ya’ll think so too!

Much thanks as always to the mods of the csrt event at @captainswanbigbang. Also thanks to @optomisticgirl and @shippingtheswann for their beta skills. I especially needed both your help with the battle scene in this, for which I am immensely grateful!

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: About 4k in this chapter

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 23

Jackie is in her seventies, or at least looks like she’s in her seventies, and her house is at least a hundred years old. But those are the only two similarities either the woman or the house share with Emma’s beloved Martha. Where Martha’s house was old and a little worse for wear, it was still well loved and kept clean and tidy. Jackie’s house is only a few steps above being condemned, and as for cleanliness, well, Emma almost chokes on the stench. But after weeks on the road in her bug, it’s all Emma can afford.

Jackie isn’t in much better shape than her house, her face drawn and scowling, and a cigarette dangling from her mouth. Where Martha had been soft and gentle, Jackie is all sharp lines and harsh edges. Her voice is rough as sandpaper, her words like vinegar. There definitely is no little box of Bible verses in this woman’s kitchen.

The room Emma is renting is in slightly better shape than the rest of the house; the previous renter had at least known what Pine-Sol was. It’s about as small as her room at Martha’s when she was ten, yet it does have a tiny bathroom attached and the fireplace actually works. In one corner is crammed a miniscule table and chair, and in the other –

Is a wardrobe.

Emma drops her duffel on the scuffed hardwood as her jaw almost comes unhinged. There’s no mistaking it this time: It’s the same one she had in her room at ten and sixteen. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Seriously? She berates herself, not for the first time, for her decision to come back to Maine, even if Florida had been a massive mistake. After saving up all that money at Granny’s, she foolishly wasted two years in Tallahassee. She still kicks herself for thinking Neal would actually find her. What did she think this was? A rom-com? It isn’t. Her life is no Hallmark movie, no fairy tale. She glances at the wardrobe.

Even if a dashing slave/cabin boy had come to her through an enchanted wardrobe.

She sighs and pauses before unzipping her duffel, then decides to just slide the bag under the bed. It isn’t quite as large or ornate as her bed at Martha’s, but it’s still a four-poster with ample room underneath.

She purposely ignores the wardrobe the rest of the evening, refusing to give it even a glance as she cooks up a supper of ramen noodles with her hot plate. She stares at the noodles in her bowl, the desire to look over in the opposite corner stronger than she would care to admit. Why did she even come back to Maine? Oh right, because there are people in a town called Storybrooke who said she could come back if Tallahassee didn’t work out. Too bad she needs to earn more money before she can get the rest of the way there. And in the meantime, this wardrobe is mocking her.

She stays in the shower longer than necessary, despite the layers of scum on the avocado colored subway tiles. She comes out in nothing but a towel, grasping it tight with one hand as she fishes in her duffel with the other. Normally, alone in her room, she’d just walk around naked. But she can’t help remembering those blue eyes she saw watching her as a girl. She chuckles wryly at herself and ceases searching her bag. She stands up straight, pushing her wet hair from her eyes, and drills her gaze into the wardrobe. With a huff she stomps over and flings the door open.

A handful of empty wire hangers swing and clang together from the post inside. That’s it. Empty. Emma laughs at herself as she shuts the door. She lets her towel drop to the floor as she returns to her duffel. With two hands, she finds her pajama pants and tank top quickly and slips into them. She’s just crawled into bed and is reaching over to flip off the bedside lamp when she hears a squeak. She pauses, her hand hovering in midair between the bed and the lamp. She turns her head slowly towards the wardrobe.

The door suddenly swings open.

“Emma? I’ve tried this wardrobe a hundred times . . . ”

Her mouth falls open at the sight of the person on the other side. She eases slowly from the bed in shock and steps closer.

“Killian?” she questions softly, wrapping her arms around the post of the four-poster bed. The same blue eyes as always stare back at her, but he has changed so much. Those eyes are now rimmed with dark kohl, and his face has a hardened edge that is brand new. His hair is the same dark shade, but instead of the shoulder length and the boyish lock of hair falling in his eyes, it is now a bit shorter and messy in a dangerous sort of way. Instead of a nightshirt, he wears tight, black leather pants and a long black leather coat over a black shirt and red vest. The buttons of his shirt are undone almost to his navel, revealing thick, dark hair on a hardened, muscular chest. The naïve, hopeful boy she had known has obviously grown into a world-weary man.

And then there’s the hook. A large, shiny steel hook where his left hand used to be.

The harshness of his face softens as he takes in the sight of her, and when he speaks, the roguish smile he gives her and the cocky arch of his brow seem slightly forced. Like a long-practiced act he’s performing for the first time in her presence.

��Actually, love, people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker: Hook.” His face falls even as he brandishes the intimidating appendage. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again, lass. It’s been so long.”

Emma shrugs, the corner of her mouth hitching up. “Only seven years. Give or take.”

“Yet so much has happened since then,” he tells her in a voice heavy with almost unbearable sadness.

“For me too,” she admits in barely more than a whisper.

They search one another’s eyes for a silent heartbeat. “I hate to hear that, love,” he finally says, “though I hope the terrors here are less frightening than those in Neverland.”

Emma’s mind reels. He’s been in Neverland. He’s dressed like a pirate. He has a hook. When she speaks, it’s almost hesitant. “You mean . . . you’re Captain Hook?”

His eyes light up and a look of pride fills his face. His voice is full of bravado when he speaks. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.”

Emma suppresses a laugh. “Well, there’s a book. And movie. Several movies, actually.”

He cocks his head for a moment as he searches her face, a look of slight confusion upon his own. Then some sort of realization seems to wash over him, and he deflates his posturing. “The portrayal was far from flattering, I see. I – I’ll leave you.”

“Wait!” Emma cries out even as he turns to go. Without thinking, she reaches out and grabs his hook to stop him. When he turns, he looks in surprise at where her fingers curve around the steel. So he’s . . . Captain Hook. Is that so much harder to believe than having a friend that walks through an enchanted wardrobe? She smiles up at him. “Stay.”

He seems almost transfixed as she pulls him out of the wardrobe and towards the bed. She sits and gently tugs him down with her, her hand still clutching his hook. It doesn’t scare her, didn’t for one second. And it’s hard to explain, but holding it seems . . . right. Comforting, even. She sets it in her lap and squeezes it as she gazes into his face.

“Tell me what’s happened since I saw you last,” she encourages, as she would to a long lost friend. Because that’s what he is. The only one she has or has ever had, come to think of it.

He clears his throat, still staring at his hook in her lap. “I’m afraid there’s an awful lot to tell.” The slightly embarrassed chuckle and ear scratch that he gives her reveals the boy still inside him.

Emma shifts closer, “Just the highlights, then. It’s not like I have anything important to do.”

So he begins to talk. The accented voice she has always loved rolls over her like a warm embrace, but the story breaks her heart. He tells her about losing his brother Liam and why he became a pirate. His voice breaks as he describes the elder Jones dying in his arms, and Emma tugs his arm up and over her shoulder. A tear tracks down his cheek as he tells her about Milah, about watching Pan crush her heart and being helpless to stop it. He turns his face away as he speaks of the choices he has made, many of them dark, in his pursuit of revenge against Pan. Emma leans closer and rests her head on his shoulder to let him know it doesn’t change anything.

“I’ve been talking on and on about nothing but myself,” he tells her, his lips brushing against the crown of her head. “That’s bad form, love. What about your life? Less tragic than mine, I hope.”

Emma lifts her head to look into his eyes, so intensely blue as they study her. “I’ve had my own share of tragedy.” She lets out a shaky breath and then tells him about Neal and jail, and then . . . she speaks for the first time about the baby she gave away. Confesses for the first time out loud about how giving him up tore her heart in two.

Killian holds her tighter as the tears break free. She turns in his embrace, fisting her hands in his shirt and sobbing into his shoulder. When her tears are spent, there is a dark, wet spot on his shirt. She laughs sardonically as she wipes at it.

“Look what I’ve done to your shirt.”

“Tis nothing, love.”

Emma suddenly realizes that both her hands are splayed against his chest, and she can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. She lifts her head and sees his face so close to hers. Her eyes flicker from his bright eyes to his lips, and her thoughts tumble backwards in time to their first kiss when his lips were so soft and welcoming, and how the feel of them on hers made her heart soar. They both lean towards each other, and then their lips are brushing. They sort of melt against one another as they deepen the kiss, and it’s simultaneously just like when they were sixteen and vastly different. The softness, the tenderness, and the heart swelling rush are all still there. But there’s fire and passion wrought of pain and loss that sparks and sets them both on fire.

What comes next happens in a sort of haze, as if Killian is a drug she can’t resist. Hands and lips feverishly exploring, and clothes peeled back and cast aside with a mixture of frenzy and reverence. When Emma removes his brace, he stiffens and closes his eyes in shame. She lifts his left arm and runs her fingers across the scars there, then kisses it tenderly. He tells her around an obvious lump in his throat that no one has seen or touched it since Milah. She presses it to her breast and pulls him close for a hungry kiss. She wants him to know he isn’t disabled or broken, not to her.

Then they’re falling as they come together, Killian practically worshipping every inch of her as if she’s an angel he doesn’t quite deserve. And Emma is almost overwhelmed with the intensity of it, and she wonders why she ever thought she loved Neal.

Because it was never like this.

They are still breathing heavily, yet sated and slightly drowsy in each other’s arms when the light pours out of the open door of the wardrobe. Emma cups Killian’s face and runs her thumb along the scar on his cheek.

“Emma.” His voice is almost a groan. “For years, I told myself that if I ever found my way back here, I would stay. With you.”

He’s searching her face, and the look in his eyes is begging her to understand. “But you can’t, can you?” she whispers.

Killian brushes her lips against hers, feather light. “I just received an urgent message from some friends. We were making haste to Neverland when I saw a light in the wardrobe. I have to help them if I can.”

Emma grasps his shoulders tight even as she nods in understanding. He presses his forehead to hers, his eyes closed, and they breathe one another in for just one more heartbeat. Then he slips from the bed and begins to gather his clothes. As he steps into his leather pants, the light of the moon sends a shaft of light across his back, illuminating the criss-cross pattern of scars she had traced earlier with her fingers. She remembers the trembling slave boy of ten, and the hesitantly hopeful cabin boy of sixteen, and she wonders if the scars were there even then.

Killian finishes dressing with a click of his hook into his brace. The sound of it echoes in the quiet room, and she sees his jaw tense with shame. Giving him her body clearly wasn’t enough to wash that away, and it breaks her heart.

“Emma,” he says, voice thick with emotion, “I’m not the boy you once knew. I know I wasn’t worthy to share your bed tonight, but know one thing.” He lifts his gaze finally to hers, and the moonlight brightens them. They are swimming with more emotion than anyone has ever bestowed upon her. “I have always loved you. That has never changed.”

She sits up, clutching the sheets to her bare chest as she watches him walk to the wardrobe. She wants to tell him she loves him too, but she can’t get the words past her throat. He steps into the wardrobe, and a slight panic seizes her that she can’t speak. He turns to look at her, giving her a tender smile.

“Can I come back tomorrow night?”

Her heart soars at his question, tears filling her eyes. “Yes.”

He gives a simple nod, pulls the wardrobe closed, and the light is gone. He is gone. A strangled sound comes from Emma’s throat as she curls in on herself. Every time she and Killian have spent a night together, her world comes crashing down. First Martha’s stroke, then being betrayed by what she thought was her family.

Whatever tomorrow brings, she doubts it will be Killian.

**************************************

When Killian comes back through the wardrobe, the early light of dawn is just beginning to spill through the windows of his cabin. He sinks to his bunk, his heart still struggling to recover from the night he had shared with Emma. He can still see that otherworldly light seeping through the cracks of the wardrobe door, and he’s tempted to go back through and simply stay with Emma. He clenches his jaw as he reaches over with his hook and pierces the small slip of paper that had arrived via bird from Tink and Tiger Lily less than twenty four hours ago.

Pan has him.

Three simple words that he can’t ignore. So he lets the light fade away, rises to his feet, and strides above deck, crushing the missive in his hand.

“What is our position, Starkey?” he cries to his first mate.

“We’ll be making landfall in less than half an hour, sir.”

Killian nods as he joins the other young man at the captain’s wheel. Starkey’s gaze keeps cutting his way, but Killian is in no mood to talk. His emotions are a tumult of golden hair, light green eyes, and heated skin mixed in with the fear of reaching the island too late. Somehow, for reasons he can’t fathom, his night with Emma feels intertwined with the boy he has to save. Has to. He tells himself this overwhelming urge comes from his own memories of a shattered childhood, but somehow he knows it is deeper than that. His nerve endings feel exposed, brushing up against a mystery just out of reach.

When they anchor the ship in the cove near Mermaid’s Lagoon, Hawkins tells him in hushed tones that the island is much too quiet. It has nothing to do with the empty lagoon or the stillness of the dark waters nearest to the shore. The mermaids abandoned this place long ago, when magic first began to die. Tink speaks dreamily of their songs, but it’s a pleasure that has never reached his ears.

No, this quiet is filled with a heavier foreboding. Hook normally visits the home beneath the ground on his own, not wanting to expose Wendy to his uncouth crew, but this time he takes those he trusts most along with him: Starkey, Hawkins, and Slightly. Mason begs to come along, but there’s too much unknown to risk it.

They find the place just as quiet as the rest of the island. Wendy’s sewing basket is sitting abandoned by the hearth, the fireplace cold. Hook frowns when he sees a tiny cup sitting upon the kitchen table, filled to the brim with a brown liquid. He shakes his head.

“Wendy always makes sure Michael takes his medicine.”

It’s awful stuff, and the boy pitches a fit every time, but the concoction brewed by Tiger Lily is a supposed inoculation for dreamshade. Killian’s skeptical of the home remedy - it’s never made a bit of difference for his crew - but it makes Wendy feel better to make her brother take it.

Yet here it sits.

Starkey pulls a dagger from his belt. “Something strange is afoot, Cap’n.”

“Aye.”

“Their brother John came for them.”

They spin at the sound, weapons aloft, but it is only Tiger Lily. Killian deflates and re-sheaths his sword.

“Brother?”

“Half brother,” Tiger Lily sighs, depositing a quiver of arrows upon the table and rolling her shoulders. “He’s already a man. A man who made a deal with Pan, apparently. You weren’t the only one searching for the boy, Hook.”

“You don’t mean -”

“Yes, Pan has him. I’ve tracked them to Skull Rock. Tink is there keeping watch, but I’m not sure what we can do.”

“And Wendy and Michael -”

“Gone. I don’t know how, but Pan gave John an antidote for the water of Rainbow Falls as well as passage to another realm.”

“Home,” Killian whispers, “a land without magic, Wendy said.”

Tiger Lily nods. “John was a desperate man, Killian. He didn’t want to turn the child over; had grown attached to him even, but Wendy is 15 now, and . . . “

She trails off, her shoulders hunched. She isn’t like Tink with chatter spilling out of her. Tiger Lily is clearly shaken. Killian sinks onto one of the kitchen chairs and rubs his hand over his face.

“He wanted to save his sister and brother, I get that,” Killian fumes “but turning over a tiny lad that way . . . “ He slams his fist into the table in frustration.

“We must attack, Captain,” Hawkins says grimly, “before Pan kills the boy.”

Killian looks at the three determined men before him. He knows they’re right. Emma, he thinks to himself, please understand if I don’t make it back to you.

**************************************

“Pan has to do the ritual here,” Tiger Lily whispers from their hiding place in Skull Rock. “This is the heart of Neverland. All the island’s magic originates here.”

Killian peers over the rock with Tiger Lily at his side. The child stands trembling with Pan beside him. An enormous hourglass looms over them both, the sand within like gold dust. Whatever it is measuring, time is almost up.

“I’ve never seen that hourglass before,” Killian says to Tiger Lily.

“Pan’s had a protection spell around it until recently. It measures Pan’s boyhood. He will never grow up, but he isn’t immortal.”

He isn’t immortal. A slow smile fills Killian’s face. “Pan is the reason magic is dying in Neverland.”

Tiger Lily’s gaze meets his, her brown eyes widening brightly. “Of course! Peter Pan’s magic is unnatural; it consumes. Get rid of Pan -”

“Restore Neverland to glory,” Killian finishes for her.

Killian looks back at the child once again, yet another source of magic for Peter Pan to consume for his own “play.” Even from this place he can hear the boy’s weeping. The Lost Boys surround him and their leader, weapons forming a tight circle that will be difficult to penetrate. Nevertheless, Killian takes note of one important detail.

“They are in an offensive position to keep the boy in,” he whispers. “Not defensive to keep attackers out.”

“We still need a plan,” the fairy whispers back.

He smirks at Tiger Lily. “What do you think I have a crew for?”

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t mean to tell me you’ll risk that child for a full on assault?”

“Hey,” he gives her a wink, ‘trust me for once.”

He slips away, further into the cave, and he bites back a chuckle at the way Tiger Lily is grumbling. His crew has used these caves often to store bits of treasure for a rainy day, so he’s familiar with its labyrinth of tunnels. He hurries along one with light, quiet steps. It leads him to a precipice just over where Pan is giving a rousing speech to his Lost Boys.

Killian is surprised that the child isn’t restrained in any way, but he’s so small, and his eyes so large with fright, that it’s likely unnecessary. Killian eases his way to the very edge of the precipice, lying flat on his stomach so he’s hidden from sight.

Pan is saying something about saving Neverland’s magic, grasping the trembling boy by the arm. Killian thinks back to Mason and then Michael and the lack of a mark that saved them from this cruel rite. He can’t see it from here, but he assumes that this child does bear the mark.

Killian knows that time is short. He scans the large main cavern of Skull Rock, his eyes finding the members of his crew. All are in position, so he takes a deep breath before calling out:

“Flee! Flee!”

He adjusts the timbre of his voice, deepening it ominously. The Lost Boys freeze and Pan narrows his eyes as he drops the little boy’s arm. Now that he has their attention, he continues.

“You heard me. Flee, I tell you! The spirit of Skull Rock has spoken!”

To his right, still crouched behind the rock where he left her, Tiger Lily is glaring at him. She makes gestures with her hands that clearly say what the hell are you doing? He tosses her a wink which says Hey, it’s me! Which she ought to be used to by now, really. Below them, his words have had the desired effect on the Lost Boys.

“It’s a ghost!”

“A ghost who wants revenge!”

“This place is haunted!”

“Quiet, you idiots!” Peter shouts. “Someone’s here alright, but it’s not a ghost.”

“I am the ghost of vengeance,” Killian cries out again in a deepened voice.

He’s enjoying this far too much, truth be told. Peter’s face can’t seem to settle on anger or fear, and Killian’s lips curl into a grin. The imp pulls out his dagger as he inches closer to the stone walls of the cave, and the Lost Boys gather at his back. The pixie dust is too scarce now for the demon boy to take flight, a fact that Killian relishes.

In the shadows, Killian spies Hawkins taking advantage of Pan’s distraction. He grabs the little boy, clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle any cries. Mason is at his back, and the two teenagers hurry the child to a waiting rowboat, Tink at the oars.

Once the youngest members of his crew have succeeded in rescuing the lad, Killian slinks back down the tunnel to join the rest of the pirates. Tiger Lily scowls at him as she follows.

“So you were never going to clue me into your plan?” she whispers.

“What would be the fun in that?” he quips back under his breath.

Peter calls out into the dark recesses of Skull Rock, “Ghost, demon, or man, whoever you are, make yourself known!”

Hook’s lips curl up into a satisfying smirk. The noose has been tightened; his crew has The Lost Boy’s surrounded.

“Boo!” he shouts, arching one brow mockingly.

The look on Pan’s face when he turns and sees a crew of pirate’s behind him, armed to the teeth, is one that Killian Jones will never forget. His crew falls upon the Lost Boys, but Hook keeps his eyes locked on Peter Pan. Hook isn’t sure if it’s cowardice or desperation, but Pan runs away from the battle towards the hourglass. Then a look of confusion washes over Peter’s face, and Killian grins knowing exactly what his enemy has just realized.

“Looking for something?” he shouts over the din, swinging his hook to dispatch the Lost Boys who are in his way.

“Where is the boy?” Pan shrieks in a blind rage. He lunges at Hook, but his form

is sluggish.

“Gone,” Killian snarls.

“It’s you or me this time, Hook!” Pan bellows as he launches himself at Killian.

Hook’s cutlass flies from his hand; by all accounts the boy has taken him completely by surprise. Never has Peter Pan fought more like a demon than he does now, scratching and biting and kicking. Killian rolls with him, slashing occasionally with his hook enough to draw blood. Peter’s rage is an almost palpable thing, and though Hook could succumb to his own in equal measure, he holds himself back.

Instead, he laughs. The sound sends Pan over the edge and he begins to choke the pirate. Still, the man grins.

“What’s so funny?” Pan demands, fury making those two red spots appear in his eyes.

“This is,” another voice answers, and Pan loosens his grip on his enemy’s throat to follow the source of it. Tiger Lily stands before the hourglass, Killian’s cutlass in her hands. She swings the weapon at the glass with all of her strength.

“Nooo!!” Pan screeches.

The hour glass shatters, the remaining sand pouring out upon the ground. Peter Pan curls in on himself, screaming in agony. Hook feels not an ounce of compassion, however, and he looms over his enemy with a snarl upon his lips.

“You didn’t really think I would drop my weapon so easily, did you?”

Pan doesn’t answer. He throws his head back, clawing at his skin as he continues to scream. The battle between the pirates and the Lost Boys has ceased, and everyone looks on in horror as the boy who never grows up shrivels and wrinkles before their eyes, his bones weakening and contorting. With one final wail, his face seems to melt, then his entire body turns to dust.

For a moment, there is an eerie silence. Former enemies glance at one another, unsure what to do next. Then a violent wind rushes through skull rock, picking up the ashes that were once Peter Pan. A dark shadow flies in behind it, and the ashes whirl it, faster and faster and faster. The vortex sends everyone to their knees, shielding their eyes from the dust and wind. Then there’s a bright pulse of light that sends them all sprawling on their backs.

Killian’s head collides with the rocky floor and pain shoots across his forehead, his focus blurring at the edges. He thinks he sees a flurry of purple and green - wings? He blinks, but then his vision begins to dim as someone calls his name.

Emma, I’m sorry. It’s the last thought he has before he succumbs to the darkness.

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @courtorderedcake @branlovestowrite @hollyethecurious @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @jennjenn615 @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard @shireness-says @scientificapricot @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms@delirious-latenight-laughs

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs neverland au #cs canon divergence #magic wardrobe #soul mates #fate #angst #slow burn #childhood sweethearts

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phoenix1966sbottom · 6 years ago

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Big Bang 2019

It’s that time of year again!

I’ll be updating and reblogging this at the end of each day, give or take. No postings on weekends. I will also be updating the Honorable Mentions post, which will have switching, ambiguous sex and no penetrative sex stories with Sam/Jared. Please consider leaving a comment if you read any of these stories, as it is the only payment the author ever receives. And, as always, head the warnings where the story is posted.

June 17th - Nothing that fits the criteria (there is one left to post tonight, but it’s getting late here).

June 18th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

June 19th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

June 20th - Nothing that fits the criteria (still waiting for the one that didn’t post the first day).

June 25th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

No posting on weekends. See you on Monday!

June 24th - In the Coils of a Snake by Sanshal on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jared was an undercover cop determined to cut the head off the criminal hierarchy of his city....only question was, would he successfully manage to behead the snake or would the snake swallow him first? (Warning for bottom!Jared purists: he wants to top Jensen and digitally penetrates him once; Jensen doesn’t want to bottom and nothing more happens)

June 25th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

June 26th - Dancing on the Head of a Pin by storyspinner 70 on Ao3. Sam/Dean. Wincest AU. Dean is an Alpha shrouded in mystery and darkness – quite literally. Sam is a revolutionary forcing change in the world the only way he knows how – with guns and blood and death. Dean makes a living doing what other weres can’t; no questions, no concerns – until a job to kill Sam becomes a drive to protect his mate instead. After a brutal betrayal, he finds his mate tortured but alive and takes him to a pack he sees only in Sam’s mind. Pack politics, an age old prophecy and magic Dean has no business wielding breed fear and cowardice that spreads from the forests to the pack lands. Sam and Dean hold their own against the fear and hatred from their pasts, but dealing with their own unusual mating and Sam’s need for something only Dean can give him lead them into a battle both are determined to win. (art by me).

June 27th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

June 28th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

No posting on weekends. See you on Monday!

July 1st - Black Velocities and Shining Movements by dimeliora on Ao3. Sam/Dean. WIncest. Set in Season 2, Sam has sustained a terrible injury trying to protect his brother. He finds himself in a tiny, idyllic village being cared for by Dean. Unsure if his paranoia is wholly justified or the result of brain damage, Sam finds himself fighting not only to recover but to understand what is unfolding around him. (warning: vaguely implied switching when teens)

July 2nd - Into the Great Wide Open by AmyPond45 on Ao3. Sam/Dean. Wincest AU. A hundred years ago in a dystopian world where monsters have won the West and Sam and Dean were raised not knowing they were brothers, Sam and Dean reunite after a six-year separation and go in search of Dean’s mother through the Colorado Rockies. On the way, they fight monsters, meet an Angel of the Lord, and find gruesome evidence of a lost battle and abandoned human settlements. Eventually, they admit their love for each other, and together they begin to unravel the secrets and mysteries of their world and their place in it. But will their love survive when Sam learns the truth about his birthright?

Also, as this Thursday is a national holiday in the U.S., Wendy only has stories scheduled for today and tomorrow for this week.

Happy 4th of July to those in the U.S. that celebrate it!

July 8th - Another You by Annie46fic on AO3. Sam/Dean. WIncest AU. Dean dies fighting Michael one last time and Sam must let him go; left without his brother and knowing that he can’t bring him back Sam goes into free fall until Castiel persuades him to go on a vacation. While staying in a remote cabin Sam thinks he sees his brother and starts seeing him in other places. Finally he manages to confront what he thinks is a spirit, but this is a real person – a Dean from another dimension – one where Dean and Sam have been bought up differently and one where Dean and Sam are more than brothers. This Dean is searching for his Sammy and Sam agrees to help him…soon he becomes too fond of this alternative Dean and they fall into a relationship that might change Sam’s life forever.

July 9th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

July 10th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

July 11th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

July 10th - Clamor by firesign10 on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. Jared, a 22 year old college student, is eager to be Turned and become a vampire himself, since he's Jensen's mate and true love. Jensen, however, is making him wait. There's still a lot of human things to experience like sunrises, surviving a car accident, a rival dance club opening near Claret, and oh yeah...becoming the pawn in a battle with the new evil vamp in town—the voluptuous and deadly Alaina Huffman.A continuation from Claret and Clarity; this story stands alone, but you may enjoy it more fully if you also read Claret and Clarity. (warning: although this is bottom!Jared, he does digitally penetrate Jensen once in chapter 2 {one sentence}). The earlier stories are bottom!Jared when explicit.

No posting on weekends. See you on Monday for the last week of stories!

July 15th - A Land of Love and Ruin by whispered_story on Ao3. Jared/Jensen/Jeff. J3 AU. After a virus wiped out most of humanity and turned some people into zombies, Jared is trying to get by on his own—until he's saved from zombies by Jeff one day and they set out to travel across the country to Texas together. Jeff makes no secret out of the fact that he's interested in Jared and despite his trust issues, Jared soon gives in to his own attraction to Jeff.But Jeff has someone waiting for him in Texas and even though he insists Jensen is just his best friend, Jared knows his feelings run a lot deeper. He plans to enjoy his relationship with Jeff for as long as he can and then let him go when they get to Texas. But Jeff refuses to give up on them.And then Jared meets Jensen. He expects to be jealous of the bond Jensen shares with Jeff or for Jensen to want Jeff to himself. But Jared gets along with Jensen as easily as he did with Jeff, and he falls for him as hopelessly as he did for Jeff. As a relationship blooms between the three of them, they set out to make a new life for themselves in a changed world. But between finding food and shelter, the approaching colder seasons as summer draws to an end and the threat of zombies as well as other survivors it's not always easy. (implied past top!Jensen/bottom!Jeff)

July 16th - True Beauty is Found Within by lullys on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. It’s a tale as old as time, but not quite as you were told.Jensen has one rule: to only sleep with a person once and never to get attached, he knows better than that, having truly learned his lesson in the past. Jensen knows he’s a heartless asshole, as he’s often called, and honestly doesn’t care. That’s why he’s less than pleased when his neighbor Chad brings an ugly homeless guy to live in the basement of their apartment building.Jared has a good heart, but is cursed when he says ‘no’ to a girl who turns out to be a witch, causing the memories of who he is and his exterior beauty to vanish. Jared is doomed to remain like this unless he finds someone with a cold heart who would fall in love with him before the last petal falls. Jared knows that’s impossible, so he slowly loses hope as the clock ticks.After all, who could ever learn to love a beast?

July 17th - No stories that fit the criteria.

July 18th - Nothing that fits the criteria.

Calling it early tonight. There are still 3 stories missing from earlier in the week and four scheduled for tomorrow and then that will be a wrap for this year.

July 19th - I’ll Worship You Like You Should Be by blackrose_17 on Ao3. Jared/Jensen. J2 AU. All his life Jared had wanted a fairy tale romance, he thought he had found that ending with his high school boyfriend and first love Stephen Amell but when he is left at the altar all his dreams come crashing down. The surprises don’t end there when he learns that Stephen not only ran off with Mob Boss Jensen Ackles latest fling but also some of his money Jared’s world is changed again as he finds himself the guest of Jensen until they find Stephen, Colton and the money. Jared never expected that the love he was searching for was with Jensen Ackles of all people.

Please leave comments, support the authors/artists and give Wendy a pat on the back for running this challenge so that we might still have years to come of it!

August 25th - A Fever Dream by brokenlittleboy on Ao3. Sam/Dean. WIncest. Sam should have known it was too good to be true.

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politicsprose · 7 years ago

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P&P Picks of the Week

We found ourselves enjoying different genres last week, from poetry to a highly anticipated new book of essays, from one family’s struggle after the war in our fiction pick to strange happenings in the mystery one. Here are the picks for this week; we hope you find something you like as much as we did.

Calypso - David Sedaris

Upcoming Event at Politics and prose Monday, June 4, 2018 - 7 p.m. to 8 p.m.

David Sedaris hardly needs another endorsement, but it’s impossible not to praise his new book, Calypso. The tales in it range from lamentations about the election—refreshing recollections, despite all the other post-election literature-to surprisingly moving passages about his deceased sister. Sedaris will have you both laughing and crying throughout this book, and, more often than not, within the same essay. In fact, the best way to heal—as Sedaris proves again and again-is through introspection and laughter. One warning: only read on the Metro if you are comfortable laughing maniacally in front of strangers. Katie W.

All for nothing - Walter Kempowski

All for Nothing takes place at the very end of World War II, when the complicated nature of words like "complicit," "political prisoner," and "German" started to emerge. The protagonist family and those at their inn are found tip-toeing around the realities of their lives, surrounded by war: They've just been trying to get by, to stay open, to stay together as a family while letting the country and the world work out its own problems. Unfortunately, their inn lies on the wrong side of some of the most important invisible lines of the last 200 years. Justin Stephani

The Black Tides of Heaven - J Y Yang

Set in a lush fantasy world inspired by various Asian cultures and mythologies, The Black Tides of Heaven is a silkpunk novella excels at using the macro to explore the micro. While the plot is steeped in a grandiose backdrop of imperial power, magical “slackcraft”, and brewing rebellion, the heart of the story focuses on a pair of twins and their coming-of-age. Born as political pawns, the siblings’ bond is challenged when one becomes the clairvoyant “Prophet”. As they each endeavor to find their role within fortune’s designs, they must also come to terms with their own identities and changing relationship with one another. Jade L.

In a Dark, Dark Wood - Ruth Ware

When an invitation to spend a weekend away to celebrate the upcoming marriage of an old friend arrives, lonesome writer Leonora is reluctant to accept. But accept she does and she heads into the English countryside for what is supposed to be a relaxing holiday of bachelorette games, hiking, and friendship. Soon upon arrival, however, it’s clear that tension is not only high among the guests, but outside, as well. Leonora and the other party goers may not be alone and their cabin In a Dark Dark Wood quickly becomes something to fear, rather than the sanctuary they were hoping for. Allison W.

Junk - Tommy Pico

Pico’s book-length poem Junk is composed in impeccably crafted couplets—but look closer and the orderliness dissolves. Sentences start and start and don’t come to a full stop. There are opening capitals but no periods. This structure allows Pico to interweave myriad themes and tones. At one level, the poem is a stand-up rant. Telling himself to “turn everything into a punchline—the grief is loud but/the laffs are louder,” Pico lets loose with zingers that qualify the laughs and hone the grief. This strand of the poem is the work of “Teebs the bratty Diva, my alter ego,” who defers the more difficult confrontation with what angers and frightens Pico about America: that ”slavery,/theft, and genocide are its founding institutions.” Laurie G.

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magnumversum · 3 years ago

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Man's Grudge Season 1 Episode 1: Renard, A Man Estranged

Before You Read: This story (like some of the other ones) is a bit more grim. If you are not used to reading grim stories, I'd advise not reading this just yet. I've tried to make the grim elements as manageable as possible. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

TIME: MONDAY, 2:17 PM

LOCATION: A STRANGE MAN’S HOUSE

His fine vest had streaks of gray linen running parallel to each other through the black fabric. His hair was neatly curled, each strand combed carefully to perfection. His trousers were an amethyst violet, as were his eyes and leather boots. Beneath his neat looks, was an unstable and disorganized man, running from a wolf gone awry, towards a rusty cabin with nothing but a shotgun and a useless cellphone. “I’m dead,” he said to himself, bursting through the door.

“Who are you?” a man asked him. The man, in contrast to Keshin, was poorly dressed, yet had the finest of mannerisms. He spoke with the softness of a pillow, when he said, “Why are you here in my home?”

“My phone’s dead,” Keshin replied. “I have no way of telling the other hunters where I am. I’m basically dead. Can you help?” The man was rifling through a drawer, carefully listening to the pouring storms outside.

“If you want to get something, you’ll have to give something,” the man responded. “You’ll need to climb to the top of Mount Kilsurah.”

“Mount Kilsurah,” Keshin repeated to himself. “Home of the sea god Barah.”

“Yes,” the man said. “You’ll need to go there to find the legendary ‘Barah’s Stone,’ a stone rumored to be the egg of Barah’s child Hengah.”

“I’d best be on my way,” Keshin replied. “But first…” He drew something from his bag, something that caused the man to stumble backwards. The tip of it smelled like smoke and ashes, an indication of what the fate of the man was to be, thrown into a coffin, corpse left to rot and remains to be consumed by larvae and mites. A long, muscular barrel, a handle at the end. The man crumpled quickly to the floor, his fall followed by a loud blast and a thump.

TIME: Tuesday, 7:31 PM

LOCATION: KILSURAH MOUNTAINS, 10 MILES FROM THE TOP

He was intoxicated by the minty chills of the Kilsurah Mountains. He took in the sights. It wasn’t much: just the mounds of snow, the lonely tree, and the occasional eagle’s nest. “Great,” he thought aloud. “I’m stranded hundreds of miles in the air, with my only source of food being the small bag of potato chips I brought with me. Firing at an old man with super strength was not a good idea.”

“SQUAWK!” an anthropomorphic eagle behind him croaked. “I AM PELLET, DEITY OF THE MOUNTAINS! BOW BEFORE ME OR PERISH, MORTAL!” Keshin laid his eyes on the creature. Each claw on its heel was comparable to the size of a blue whale. Its snout was comically large, its breath: horribly putrid. Its look: utterly repulsive. It nearly made Keshin vomit in disgust. The eagle opened its beak to let out a terrible battlecry, Keshin left in awe. “What do you want?” the eagle asked, retracting its impossibly near-infinite, feathery wings.

“I wish to take Barah’s Stone,” Keshin stated.

“FOOL!” roared the eagle. “THIS STONE YOU SPEAK OF CAN ONLY BE TOUCHED BY BARAH HIMSELF AND THE SOLE GUARDIAN OF THE STONE: ME! IF YOU DARED TO EVEN LOOK AT THE STONE YOU WOULD TURN TO DUST!”

“I’m no fool,” Keshin murmured, his voice overtaken by the eagle’s.

The eagle shouted, “TOUCH THE STONE, AND I WILL RELISH IN YOUR DEMISE!” The eagle stepped aside, revealing the stone. Keshin took in all of its glory, the glint of light bouncing off its sunflower yellow edges. Orange-brown polka dots lined the equator of the stone, while most of the stone’s composure was a reddish brown dye. The egg was mostly smooth, except for a crystal clear side where the prodigal son of Barah was to hatch. From what Keshin could gather from local folklore, rumors, tall tales, and what his father told him, the day Hengah would hatch was the day world peace would be achieved.

“He won’t hatch any time soon,” Keshin thought, as he ripped the stone forcefully from its resting spot.

“How did you take the egg without dying?” asked the eagle. “That shouldn’t be possible!”

“Cause I’m awfully darn handsome,” Keshin boasted. “That’s why.”

“No really, that isn’t possible!” the eagle insisted. “Even the great Ezio, god of strength, couldn’t remove that stone!”

“Ezio’s a liar,” Keshin murmured. “I’ll bring this back to the ol’ man if you don’t mind.”

TIME: TUESDAY, 9:29 PM

LOCATION: A STRANGE MAN’S HOUSE

The rusty door creaked open. A man wearing a fur coat walked through carrying a large egg. The strange man who lived in the house recognized that stone as Barah’s Stone. “You found it,” said the strange man.

Keshin said proudly, “I sure did. Took a while- but I did it.” He added to himself, “Pfft. ‘Took a while…’ It took me a whole day. You better give me some good money.”

“What a fine specimen. You- you know what, s-sir? I’ll give you a dollar for your troubles.” the man said to Keshin. “You deserve it, after all. Also- also- have I told you my name? My name’s Renard. Nice to meet you.” Renard extended a hand. Keshin accepted hesitantly, but he accepted.

“Nice to meet you, Renard,” Keshin replied. “Name’s Keshin. Leader of Man’s Grudge.”

Renard complimented, “Keshin. I like that name.” reached into the pocket of his velvet jacket for a crumpled bill, it's cotton fibers already wasting away from years of reuse. Keshin snatched the dollar bill, and expected it for impurities. Those of which, he found plenty. George Washington’s face on the front splattered with paint and barely held together by a square of tape. The back of the bill was equally worn down, scented like a rotten corpse had died grasping it in their hands. “S-sorry Keshin, but this is all I got. Hope you don’t mind a dollar that’s seen better days. You don’t mind that- do you- Keshin?” Keshin looked at the bill, then at Renard. “I said: you don’t mind that, do you?” Renard felt the sensation of the cold barrel pressed against his forehead, this time as it forced him to the floor.

“More,” Keshin hissed. “I want more cash.”

“I don’t have any more cash- on hand at least,” Renard said back. “All my cash I get from my lumbering industry. Now all of that goes to my bank!”

“Where’s your bank?” muttered Keshin.

“The name of the bank is Industrial Press Banking Corporation- the IPBC!” Renard confessed. “It’s on Mayhem Street!”

Keshin asked him, “Who owns the bank?”

“President Allen Waltono!” Renard went on. “He likes to go by the name Alto! I can tell you more ‘bout him if you like!”

Keshin whispered into his ear, “No thanks- you’ve said enough.” The barrel rattled, Renard dying.

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angelic-writer · 2 months ago

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Matt and Maddie Godrick - "A Eulogy Uninterrupted"

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a kind and compassionate soul."

Madeline caught a few people murmuring in the crowd. "Yeah, sure. Kind and compassionate." She gripped the skirt of her black dress. Why did this have to happen? At her husband's funeral, of all days.

"The last few days of planning this service were... turbulent, but in the end, through the power of the Lord, Matthew Godrick will now be laid to rest."

The murmuring only got louder. "I hope God judges him for how much of a bastard he was."

"Silence! Speaking this way during the service is disrespectful!" The priest boomed. "If any one of you say one more word-"

"This piece of shit should burn in hell for wishing death to children! To animals! For being the spawn of Satan!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!!" He slammed his fist on the podium, making Maddie jump. "All of you, leave! You clearly have no respect for this man! Voice your complaints later!"

The vicars, priests and ministers grabbed the people that were becoming unruly and dragged them out the door. When one of them passed Madeline, he spat in her face. "May God forgive you for marrying such a wicked man!"

Soon enough, the church was empty, save for Madeline who still sat in her seat. She blinked her eyes, trying to hold back tears. That bastard Declan... He did this. He turned the entire city, no, the entire world against him. An innocent man who had done nothing wrong.

The priest ran his hand through his long curls. "I swear, not even a week of this "truthful news" getting out and they're treating this kid like he's fucking Hitler." He clamped his mouth shut. "Crap, I shouldn't say this in the house of God." He caught Madeline sitting alone and went over to her. "Hey... You doing okay?"

She sniffled. "I-I don't know... I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened. He looked so happy on his way to work. We were planning dinner." She rubbed her stomach. "I was gonna surprise him..."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "I know... I know. I have no doubt this is very hard on you. With the media frenzy and people willing to believe Fox News over you..." He sighed. "Well, I guess it's just you now. You can go over and say your goodbyes whenever you're ready. You can stay as long as you want."

Madeline nodded and slowly got up. Smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress, she went to the coffin that had her husband in it. The man who she loved so much...

She closed her eyes. "Matt... I-I don't know if you can hear me, but... I just want to say... Thank you for being there for me. In my brightest days and my darkest nights, you were always there to make me happy. You never hesitated to help people in need. You even visited your sick cousin in the hospital when you had an important business meeting you had to call off. That's something only really good people do."

The priest nodded, smiling softly.

"When I first met you in high school, I thought you would be like any other guy I dated. But you surpassed them by miles. You made me laugh, smile, you took me out to places I liked... We even won prom king and queen. You made high school worth it for me. Heck, I still have the stuffed cow you won for me at the fair. I think I still have it in the attic of our old house. I wish I could've gotten it..." She sniffled. "Throughout college and even job hunting, you were always by my side. I don't regret marrying you, Matthew... And I certainly don't regret being with you one last time."

She laid the flowers down, finally letting her tears fall.

"I promise you, Mattie... I will live on for you. I will get revenge on that bastard for what he did to you." She laid her hand on her stomach once more. "For our little one."

The priest's breath hitched, then he sniffled, wiping his tears with his sleeve. This woman had gone through so much. To hear that her husband was shot down in plain daylight... If there was anything more he could do for her, he would gladly do so.

Sadly, he can't bring back the dead. He can only be there to comfort the loved ones, to help ease their pain for a little bit. He opened the Bible, flipping to a verse he had recited many times before. "In your hands, O'Lord..."

#cabin tales #cabin tales black monday #matthew godrick #madeline godrick #I imagined Gianni's voice for the priest.

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pinkpossibly · 7 years ago

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PinkPossibly’s Halloween Master Post

It’s that time of year again friends, Halloween!!! So here’s a huge list of Halloween cartoons. Be careful for popups and always make sure to click out of them right away! But other than that, these links are totally safe lol i use them all the time!

Adventure Time - The Creeps Adventure Time - From Bad to Worse Aaahh!!! Real Monsters! - The Switching Hour All Grown Up - Interview with a Campfire Almost Naked Animals - Howieween Almost Naked Animals - Hotel of Horrors Angry Beavers - The Day the World got Really Screwed Up

Alvin and the Chipmunks Meets Frankenstein Alvin and the Chipmunks Meets the Wolfman Alvin and the Chipmunks: Trick or Treason Angela Anaconda - The Haunting of Angela Anaconda Animaniacs - Scare Happy Slappy/Witch One/Macbeth Arthur - Hic or Treat Baby Looney Tunes - Log Cabin Fever/Mid Autumn Night’s Scream Beetlejuice Series Berenstain Bears - The Haunted Lighthouse

Bob’s Burgers - Full Bars Bob’s Burgers - Fort Night Bob’s Burgers - Tina and the Real Ghost Bob’s Burgers - The Hauntening Bob’s Burgers - Teen-a-Witch Winnie the Pooh - Boo to you Too! Brandy and Mr. Whiskers - Curse of the Vampire Bat/ The Monkey’s Paw Bugs Bunny’s Howl-oween Special Bunnicula Series Camp Lazlo - Hallobeanies Casper’s Halloween Special Catdog - Catdogula Catscratch - Scaredy Cat Chalkzone - Pumpkin Love/Chip of Fools/Irresistible/Please Let Me In Chowder - The Spookiest House in Marzipan/Poultrygeist Claymation Comedy of Horrors Show Codename: Kids Next Door - T.r.i.c.k.y/Transcript Coraline Corpse Bride Count Duckula Series Courage the Cowardly Dog Season 1 Courage the Cowardly Dog Season 2 Courage the Cowardly Dog Season 3 Courage the Cowardly Dog Season 4 Cow and Chicken - Halloween with Dead Ghosts/Coast to Coast Daddy, I’m a Zombie Daddy, I’m a Zombie 2 Danny Phantom - Fright Night Daria - Legends of the Mall Dave the Barbarian - That Darn Ghost/The Cow Says Moon Dear Dracula Doug - Halloween Special Duck Tales - Ducky Horror Picture Show Extraordinary Tales Fairly Oddparents - Scary Oddparents Fish Hooks - Halloween Haul Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends - Nightmare on Wilson Way Frankenweenie Freaky Stories Series Garfield in Disguise Ghost Stories Gravedale High Series Gravity Falls - Summerween Grizzly Tales for Gruesome Kids Season 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Groovie Goolies Series Growing Up Creepie Series Halloween is Grinch Night Disney’s Halloween Treat Hey Arnold! - Arnold’s Halloween Hey Arnold! - Ghost Bride Hey Arnold! - Headless Cabbie/Friday the 13th Hotel Transylvania House of Mouse: Villains House of Mouse - Halloween with Hades Howard Lovecraft and the Frozen Kingdom I am Weasel - I am Vampire I am Weasel - I am Franken-Weasel Inspector Gadget - Haunted Castle It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! Looney Tunes - Jeepers Creepers Jackie Chan Adventures - Chi of the Vampire Jackie Chan Adventures - Fright Fight Night Johnny Bravo - Frankenbravo Johnny Test - Johnny Trick or Treat Kid vs Kat - Trick or Threat Kid vs Kat - House of Scream Kim Possible - October 31st Lilo and Stitch Series - Spooky Little Bear: Halloween Stories Looney Tunes - Transylvania 6-5000 Looney Tunes - A Haunting We Will Go Looney Tunes - Hyde and Hare Looney Tunes - Scaredy Cat Mad Monster Party? Men In Black - Jack-o-Lantern Monster House Monster in my Pocket: The Big Scream Monsters vs Aliens: Mutant Pumpkins from Outer Space Moville Mysteries Series Mr. Bean - Halloween Mr. Meaty - Nightmare on Josh Street Muppet Babies - Is there a Muppet in the House? My Gym Partner’s a Monkey - The Scary Old Custodian Night of the Living Carrots Night of the Living Doo Open Season: Scared Silly Over the Garden Wall Series Pac Man - Trick or Chomp Pac Man - Pacula Paranorman PB&J Otter: A Hoohaw Halloween Pepper Ann - A Tween Halloween/Mash Into Me Phineas and Ferb - The Monster of Phineas and Ferbenstein Phineas and Ferb - One Good Scare Outta Do It Phineas and Ferb - That’s the Spirit! Pinky and the Brain - Halloween Raggedy Ann and the Pumpkin Who Couldn’t Smile Recess - Terrifying Tales of Recess Regular Show - Terror Tales of the Park 1 Regular Show - Terror Tales of the Park 2 Regular Show - Terror Tales of the Park 3 Regular Show - Terror Tales of the Park 4 Regular Show - Terror Tales of the Park 5 Rocket Power - The Night Before/Violet’s Violet Rocco’s Modern Life - Sugar Frosted Frights/ Ed is Dead Rugrats - Candy Bar Creep Show/Monster in the Garage Sabrina (1999) - Nothin’ Says Somethin’ Like Lovin’ Somethin’ From a Coven Salad Fingers Scared Shrekless Scaredy Squirrel - The Stackinator/Halloweekend Scary Godmother: Halloween Spooktacular Scary Godmother: Revenge of Jimmy Scooby Doo Where Are You? Season 1, 2, 3 Scooby Doo and the Alien Invaders Scooby Doo and the Cyber Chase Scooby Doo and the Ghoul School Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost Scooby Doo meets the Boo Brothers Scooby Doo on Zombie Island Scream Street Series Season’s Greetings Shawn the Sheep - Little Sheep of Horrors Shawn the Sheep - The Visitor Shawn the Sheep - Things That go Bump Shawn the Sheep - Phoney Farmer Shrek’s Thrilling Tales Snorks - A Willie Scary Shalloween Spongebob Squarepants - The Graveyard Shift Spongebob Squarepants - Scardy Pants Spongebob Squarepants - Ghoul Fools Spongebob Squarepants - Don’t Look Now/Seance Schmeance Spookley the Square Pumpkin Spooky Bats and Scardy Cats Stoked - Penthouse of Horror Tales from the Cryptkeeper Series Tales from the Far Side Teacher’s Pet - The Tale of the Telltale Taffy The Adams Family Series (1973) The Adams Family Series (1992) The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron, Boy Genius - Nightmare in Retroville The Buzz on Maggie - The Big Score The Buzz on Maggie - Scare Wars The Curse of the Were-Rabbit The Daffy Duck Show - The Duxorcist The Daffy Duck Show - Night of the Living Duck The Emperor's New School - Kuzcoween The Fat Albert Halloween Special The Flinstone Kids - Frankenstone The Flinstones - A Haunted House is not a Home The Flinstones Meet Rockula and Frankenstone The Flinstones New Neighbors The Garfield Show - Orange and Black/Freaky Monday The Great Bear Scare The Grim Adventures of Bill and Mandy - Billy and Mandy’s Jacked up Halloween The Halloween Tree The Haunted Pumpkin of Sleepy Hollow The Ketchup Vampires The Mask - All Hallows Eve The Mr. Men Show - Outer Space The New Archies - I was a 12 year Old Werewolf The New Super Mario World - Ghosts R Us The Nightmare Before Christmas The Pig Who Cried Werewolf The Pink Panther - Pink Panic The Pink Panther - Pink Plasma The Proud Family - A Hero for Halloween The Replacements - Halloween Spirits The Scooby Doo Show The Simpsons Tree House of Horror - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 The Smurfs: The Legend of Smurfy Hollow The Super Mario Bros Super Show - Koopenstein The Wacky Adventures of Ronald McDonald: Scared Silly The Wild Thornberrys - Blood Sisters The Wild Thornberrys - Spirited Away The Wrong Trousers Thriller Night (Shrek) Time Squad - Every Poe has a Silver Lining Tiny Toons: Night Ghoulery Tom and Jerry Kid’s Show - The Ghost of Castle McLochjaw Tom and Jerry Kid’s Show - Doom Manor Tom and Jerry Kid’s Show - McWolfula Tom and Jerry Kid’s Show - McWolfenstein Tom and Jerry Kid’s Show - Haunted Droopy Totally Spies - Halloween Toy Story of Terror Wander over Yonder - The Pet Wander over Yonder - The Gift 2: The Giftening Witch’s Night Out Zombie Hotel Series

#halloween master post #halloween #spooky #creepy #halloween cartoon #cartoons

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countdowntojosie · 7 years ago

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Fall Break 2017

Well, fall break has come and gone, and it was a good one. Not nearly long enough, of course. :) We camped hard this past week! We started with the first weekend at Dale Hollow Dam with my family and friends, and then on Monday we packed up the camper, and headed up to Roan Mountain State Park with Jake’s family. Liz and the kids, Mama Judy, and Jennie stayed in a cabin, and we stayed at the campground in our camper. Then, on Friday, we packed up and headed back to the dam to finish out the weekend. Mama Judy and Jennie came and stayed in our camper at the Dam, too! This was Jennie’s first time to camp. :) Today we packed up for the third time, and came home. We were all really happy to see our house, even though our vacation was wonderful. But being away always makes you appreciate home even more, doesn't it?

I’ll tell the rest of our tale with pictures....

We didn’t get to the campground until late on Friday night, so Saturday we just lazed around all day....

We even went over to the lake with Shshr for a little bit for a ride in her boat. I love the lake at anytime of the year!

And the crazy kiddos swam in the freezing water! In October, no less!

Saturday night we celebrated sweet Kinley’s third birthday....

Sunday it rained ALL day, but that has never stopped our fun while we’re camping! The kiddos certainly didn’t let a little rain stop the bike riding....

Sunday night we settled in fora night in the camper, and went over to Ta and Tommy’s to play some games. We taught Jack how to play Train Dominos (and no, he is never still enough for a picture)

And both of the kiddos always love playing Go Fish with Tommy. :)

Monday we packed up and made the loooongggg drive to Roan Mountain. We got there after dark, and got set up and headed over to the cabin to hang out for a bit.

Tuesday we started exploring the park.

Wednesday we did our first big hike on the Appalachian trail with the kiddos. We started at Carver’s Gap, and first hiked up to Round Bald. At that point, Mama Judy and Jennie turned around and headed back down the mountain, but Liz and her kids and Jake and I and our kiddos hiked on, first to Jane Bald, and then to Grassy Ridge- it was about a 5 mile hike round trip, and all the kids did great! It was definitely not what I would call an “easy” hike, either- lots of hills and rocks to scramble over! We were proud of them. :)

My love. :)

The rhododendrons were so cool! We want to go back in June sometime so we can see them all blooming.

We ended the night with a lot of relaxing and card playing....Jake taught all the kids how to play Black Jack and poker....because, you know, LIFE SKILLS.

Thursday we all went to an apple orchard, and then after lunch, Jake and I and the kids and Liz and her kiddos hit the Appalachian Trail again, this time over by Lake Watauga, to a place called Laurel Fork Falls. It was another 5 mile round trip, and the kids did great again! This was a hike Jake and I had done before, a couple of years ago, but none of the others had. It is a gorgeous hike!

After we finished hiking, we went over to the lake to let the kiddos play a little bit....

Friday morning we packed up and hit the road again to Dale Hollow.

Jack got to pick our lunch spot....McDonald’s, of course.

We did a WHOLE lot of relaxing over the weekend, and on Saturday the kiddos and Jake went squirrel hunting with Pappy. The kids went with Pappy, and ended up cutting the squirrel hunting short in favor of fishing and getting ice cream at the dock. :) But Jake got two squirrels....with his pistol! He’s a good shot. :)

I love a good fire while we’re camping!

Andy and Christie and the kiddos were here this weekend, and our kids were thrilled to get to see them and hang out for a bit!

The kids took Jennie on a tour of the fish hatchery this morning. They think no trip to the Dam is complete without seeing the hatchery.

It was a great trip, but like I said, there is no place like home. :) Back to school tomorrow!

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rosesnvines · 7 years ago

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The Hydra

“Alright, class! Be sure to have pages forty through forty-five read and the answers to the problems on those pages handed to me by Monday! Have a good weekend!” shouted the teacher as students filed out of the classroom. She had shot a glance at Nico that told him she wanted him to stay behind, again. He merely let out a grumble as he lowered his head onto his arms. What did she want this time? Yes, she only took the job of teacher as a way to keep an eye on him and Hazel, as their father commanded her, but he, like everybody else, really didn’t want to chat with a Fury for long. When he heard the door closing behind the retreating students, he let out a sigh as he brought his head up.

“What did you want now, Alecto?” He paused, that was no Fury standing at the teacher’s desk. “Dad?” he asked as he half rose from his chair.

“Yes, it’s me. I found it.”

With the biggest grin to be ever seen on his face, he bounded forward, exclaiming, “Yes! What took you so long?”

“Oh, I asked Hephaestus to clean it up and to make it grow as you grow,” Hades stated as he grinned back and pulled out a little box. “Here, from me, and your sister.”

Tears began to well up in Nico’s eyes as he took the box, “Th-thanks, Dad.” He stepped forward as if to hug Hades, but paused and began to pull back. Hades let out a soft sigh followed by a soft chuckle as he held out his arms. Nico rushed in to them and the two squeezed each other tight.

“No matter what happens, Nico, no matter what anyone says, I’m proud of you.”

“Not even what you said, about preferring Bianca over me?”

“That was wrong of me Nico, I see that now, I’m sorry I ever thought it. I’m just happy to have had the three of you, all of you are wonderful. I’m sorry, but I must go now. Another busy day in the underworld, and I still have a few other things to take care of real quick before I head back. Oh, and before I forget, there is one other modification. You’ll see what I mean when you put it on. But no matter what happens, don’t tell anyone, alright?” Hades’ voice became so low it was just barely a whisper. “Remember, don’t say a word to anyone.” With that, he patted his son’s head and was gone. With his curiosity thoroughly aroused, Nico quickly shadowed back to his cabin. It was a homely little spot complete with a small living room, a kitchenette, and two bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms. It was made of dark ebony wood and fixed up with golden accents, thanks to Hazel’s superior decorating skills. She made it feel like a home, and made it look much less dreary than before she arrived at Jupiter High. Thinking of Hazel, he quickly checked the cabin to see if she had gotten back yet. She hadn’t shown up, thankfully. Then again, she was a lot more social than he was, and she couldn’t shadow travel as easily as he could either. But, to be on the safe side, he locked himself in his room and closed all the curtains. He was going to take his father’s words seriously and make sure that no one knew. He quickly opened the little box, and let out a shaky gasp. If Hephaestus really cleaned it up, he outdid himself. The silver skull gleamed under the pale light of Nico’s lamp and the obsidian seemed to give off an almost eerie, black glow. Nico merely smiled sadly at it while thoughts of his sister Bianca flashed through his mind. She had asked their father to give him the ring to remember her by, and now here it was, finally in his hands. He let out a sigh as his thoughts turned to the conversation with Hades, what in the world did he mean by a modification that no one could know about? It didn’t seem like anyone wouldn’t see the ring, that is, if anyone besides Hazel and Alecto even acknowledged his presence. Still mulling over the oddness of his father’s command, he slipped the ring on. The obsidian seemed to glow even more and it seemed to shoot something out of the gemstones. Nico let out a yelp as something definitely flew past his face and landed on his bed. He slowly got up and went over to his bed to see what exactly it was when it rolled over. Nico let out a gasp as he recognised the miniature form of the guardian of his father’s gates.

“C-Cerberus?”

“Master!” barked all three heads.

“What? How did you get so small? Were you inside of my ring? How did you get in there? What in Hades is going on?”

“Shh!! Please, Master, Master Hades said that no one can know!”

“And, and how can you be talking?” blurted Nico, though he had lowered his voice.

Cerberus sighed as each head took a turn in replying, “Master Hades thinks it’s something to do with the gems. Whenever a creature is tied to one, it seems we have the ability to talk. Your father hasn’t been able to do too much research into it as we’re running out of time.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“There have been monsters escaping Tartarus left and right, right under everyone’s noses. Master Hades thinks Gaia is behind all of it, as it deals with stones. Each monster has been transferred into a stone, just like me, and they come out stronger. Master Hades heard of a few reports to the north of Narnia, that’s how he found out what was going on. He was able to capture one and immediately began to research into it. He took the tale straight up to Lord Zeus, but he has refused to do nothing, thinking Master Hades was simply lying.” All three heads growled. “But Master Hades went behind his back and did more research. He found out that he could do the same with any creature he wanted to. He also found out that whoever wears the stone can control the creature’s powers.” Here, all three heads spoke, “Hence, you.”

“But, why didn’t Dad just tell me this?”

Cerberus went back to alternating heads, “He couldn’t stay long in Narnia. It would have alerted Zeus to his presence and made him wonder what was going on. Plus, he had two more creatures to deliver.”

“Two more?”

“Yes, the Phoenix and the Nemean Lion.”

“Th-the Nemean Lion? Is he sure that’s such a good idea?”

“The Nemean Lion made a deal with Master Hades. If the Nemean Lion does well, then Master Hades will not return it to Tartarus. But the instant the Nemean Lion reverts back to its evil ways, it’s heading back to Tartarus for good.”

“Who’s getting them?”

Cerberus shrugged, “Don’t know.”

Nico sighed, “OK, let me get this straight. Dad finds out that someone, most likely Gaia, has been taking monsters out of Tartarus from right under his nose and turning them into gems to give them more power, right?” All three heads nodded. “And Dad found out that he could do the same thing, so he chose you, the Phoenix, and the Nemean Lion, to be the creatures to send them back to Tartarus, but you need me and two others to use your powers to do that, right?” The heads nodded again. “OK, so, how does that work again?”

Cerberus shrugged, “Like I said, Master Hades did not get much time to research thoroughly. He only got what he needed to know that this will work for good. And that it will have no side effects on either you or me.”

“Well that’s good to know.”

“Do you want to try it out?”

“What, now?”

“Yes! No one else is here. Right?”

“Um, uh, yeah, yeah, we’re the only ones here.”

“Then simply say … Cerberus, power up!”

“What? That sounds lame.”

“What? It sounded better than, ‘Cerberus, heads up’.” “OK, yes, that’s even worse, but, power up? That sounds like something out of a cheesy TV show or something.”

“What? It was the best thing we could come up with on such short notice. Unless you’ve got a few bright ideas.”

Nico sighed, “Alright fine, we’ll try it out real quick. Cerberus, power up!” Cerberus gave a little excited bark before his body flew into the ring. The obsidian stones glowed and a shadow burst forth that proceeded to cover Nico. Nico closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he waited for the transformation to finish. After a minute, he slowly opened his right eye for a peek and noticed he could see his room. With both eyes wide open, he saw that the skull ring was no longer on his hand as now both hands were in black leather gloves that were reminiscent of dog paws. And though the ring had disappeared from his hand, he could see the spot where it was supposed to be, illuminated, as it were, by a soft silver glow. “Cool,” muttered Nico as a grin began to grow on his face. He glanced down at the rest of his costume. It was all primarily black leather, with a pair of black boots on his feet. He touched his face and felt the mask, prompting him to rush into his bathroom to see what he looked like with it on. He gasped, sure, the mask nearly covered his face and was reminiscent of a dog’s head, but the other two heads of Cerberus had changed into scythes that were strapped to his back. “Whoa! Wait, what can I do? Uh, Cerberus, power down?” The change happened much quicker as the suit disappeared into a cloud of inky shadows, and Cerberus and the ring reappeared. Cerberus landed on the counter, but immediately popped up with tail and tongues wagging.

“Well? What did you think? Was it awesome?”

“It was pretty cool, but, I need to know more.”

“Of course! But first, I’m hungry. Got anything to eat?”

Nico chuckled as he picked up Cerberus, “Yeah, I do. Come on, we’ll find you something to eat, but you had better start talking.” Nico quickly checked to see if Hazel had gotten back yet, but when he saw no sign of her, he and Cerberus chatted while Cerberus ate an assortment of food, since there was always at least one mouth available to talk. Nico learned that he had super strength and speed, as to be expected; could shadow travel further and for longer than he had ever done before; wrap shadows around himself and others; turn his scythes into swords or one long, double-headed spear; could kill anything, except the Nemean Lion and the Phoenix, with one strike of his blades; could practically control the earth; and could use his super attack only once during each fight, which was when the double scythes glowed a pale green. That’s when he could strike any monster and turn it into a stone. Cerberus also learned that he liked and gained more energy from pomegranates, of course, cabbage, and black forest ham.

“Well, looks like we’re going to have to get more ham,” sighed Nico as he picked up the rest of the ham and began cleaning up. Cerberus merely rolled over on the table as happy, satisfied smiles widened on each head. “But at least the pomegranate seeds should be easy enough, I take those with me for a snack everyday. You can snack on those at school. Would also probably make less noise than cabbage or ham.” He paused, he could hear a soft snoring sound coming from three mouths. He glanced at the little three-headed dog, sound asleep on the table. He chuckled as he picked up Cerberus gently and placed him on his bed so he could finish the clean-up before Hazel got back. He went straight away to his homework and worked on that until he heard Hazel coming in. He wished he could tell her about Cerberus and the new dangers their father had found out about, but both Hades and Cerberus instructed him not to say a word to anyone, as such, he didn’t breathe a word of it to Hazel. But he did realize he kind of wanted to meet his teammates. Did his dad choose well? What was he saying, more than likely, Nico couldn’t work with just about anybody, he needed specific people. And he needed people who would step up to the plate when he needed them to. He pondered over what his teammates were like before he drifted off to sleep, not realizing, he was going to find out very soon.

The next morning, Hazel practically dragged him out of bed on what he thought was a pretext for aid in preparing the school for the first social event of the year, the Michaelmas Festival. What he thought she really wanted was for him to get out and socialize. Socialize? With whom? He didn’t care for the snobs, who made up half the students at Jupiter High, and the few people he did become acquainted with over the summer at Camp Half-Blood, well, not all were in the same class, much less in the same country. Reyna, the Coopers, and Hazel’s boyfriend Frank were attending Romulus High in Archenland, while Scipio, Riccio, and Mosca were attending Dionysus High near Lantern Waste. But Nico only hastily bounced out of bed when he realized that Hazel was getting close to finding out about Cerberus. And he quickly promised to go with her to set up if she got out of his room long enough for him to get dressed. She seemed fine with the proposal and left the room. Nico heaved a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind her. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought, making sure Hazel didn’t find out about Cerberus. And now he got himself roped into going with Hazel to school, on a Saturday, and maybe having to deal with people. Ugh. Like Monday through Friday wasn’t bad enough, but he never broke a promise to his half-sister and went about getting dressed. Cerberus began to wake up in the meantime and mumbled something about breakfast.

“Well, if you want breakfast, you had better get up. But, Hazel’s here, so you’ve got to be quiet,” Nico told him. Cerberus’s eyes popped open and nodded solemnly. He quickly dove into Nico’s coat pocket before he walked out of the room. Hazel talked quite a bit, while Nico would only nod and mumble his replies, all while getting some food to Cerberus. It wasn’t easy, but Nico managed to slip enough eggs and ham into the pocket where Cerberus was hiding to keep him satisfied until lunch. For extra measure, Nico tossed in a few pomegranate seeds, just in case Cerberus needed a mid-morning snack, or an afternoon snack if they couldn’t get back until dinner. Nico trudged begrudgingly after Hazel, quite upset with his Saturday routine being interrupted. The auditorium was already filling up with other teens eager to get the rest of the decorating done in time for the evening’s festivities. There were Jason and Piper, making sure Leo kept his eyes off the other girls long enough to get his job done, Percy was helping Annabeth with some project in the corner, Cecil and Lou Ellen were heading up the streamer committee with help from Jill Pole and Eustace Scrubb, while Jesse Aarons and Leslie Burke were helping the Pevensies in decorating the walls. They were the ones who noticed the newcomers first.

“Hey Hazel! Wanna come help us?” asked Jesse as he handed off another one of his hand-painted decorations to Lucy. Cut-outs of autumn leaves, cornucopias, geese, blackberries, asters, and chrysanthemums were laid out on the table Jesse was working solo at. Nico had to hand it to the kid, he knew how to paint.

“Oh, sorry, I already promised Lou Ellen I’d help her, but, Nico’s not doing anything.” Nico glared at his half-sister.

Leslie laughed, “Seems to me that Nico doesn’t appreciate being volunteered.”

“I don’t blame him,” grumbled Edmund as he snatched up a decoration, proving that he was pretty much in the same position.

“Oh do knock it off, Ed, it’s not like you had anything else more important to do,” quipped Susan.

“I had sleeping to catch up on. Sleeping is very important.”

“I have to agree with him there,” sighed Peter.

Jesse grinned sheepishly at Nico, “So, um, you don’t have to help if you don’t, uh, want to.”

“So, Nico, you’ve got a choice. You can either come help us with streamers, or you can help them with the walls,” stated Hazel.

Nico glanced between the two groups before letting out a groan, “I’ll help with the walls.”

Lucy clapped her hands, “Yay! Thank you so much!”

“Alright, then, keep him busy,” winked Hazel before just about bouncing off towards Lou Ellen.

Nico sighed, “What do I have to do?”

Lucy grabbed a few decorations before replying, “You can follow me to the next wall, we’re just about done with this one, and I can show you what to do. Once you’ve got the hang of it, you’ll get into a rhythm.”

“Fine,” Nico begrudgingly trudged after her. He did notice that her hair was pulled back with an elegant lion barrette. Always lions for the youngest member of the royal family, especially after the siblings’ encounter with the Great Lion himself. Lucy showed him which cut-outs were to be taped to the wall, and which ones were to be pinned. As Lucy had said, once he got the hang of it, he was able to get into a rhythm. And though Lucy asked a few courteous questions about him, for the most part, he was left alone. Well, sort of. He kept to himself mostly, just working, and he was perfectly fine with that. He really wasn’t in the mood for socialization, but he couldn’t help but overhear the conversations the Pevensies were having with Jesse and Leslie. Kind of hard not to considering they were working as a team, somewhat, and they were talking so loud the whole auditorium could hear them. But it was fun to listen to, especially when the four royal siblings were taking turns poking fun at each other. Now Nico understood why Jesse didn’t have a problem with him working somewhere else, their words were coming out of their mouths like rapid fire. Sometimes Jesse would pipe in with something, but for the most part he would just groan and roll his eyes and kept his attention on his own work, though one could easily see the smile on his face as he too listened. When Piper called out for lunch break, they got about a little more than half the walls taken care of.

“Man, this is going by in a cinch. We should be done pretty soon after lunch!” Leslie remarked as the group sat down for a picnic lunch. All of the volunteers were clustered together on the floor, munching away at sandwiches and sipping from juice boxes. Nico mentally thanked both Hades and Aslan, he got a black forest ham sandwich and would sneak a few pieces into his coat pocket for Cerberus whenever he could.

“Yeah, our new helper has been plowing away like a champ,” remarked Jesse as he grinned at Nico.

Jason scoffed, “Lucky you, our whole job is to make sure Leo gets his work done.”

“What? Not my problem if half the volunteers are such pretty girls,” grinned Leo as he winked at a couple of them.

Piper sighed, “You know, if you could just hurry it up, you might be able to talk to one of those pretty girls.”

“Why should I? I can do it right now. Any of you ladies wanna go out with this hot muffin?”

“Did he just say what I think he said?” asked Susan as she glanced at Edmund.

Edmund merely grinned, “Yes, you did. The only problem is that muffin is going to start getting stale.”

“What? Impossible, practically fresh from the oven and a shelf life of a good forty years.”

Edmund guwaffed, “Oh yeah? Last I heard, the only time a muffin lasted that long it was rock solid!”

“Yeah, well, guess what, Eddy, this muffin ain’t that hard.”

“No, but it will be, and then you’ll be nothing but shelf-worthy.” Edmund grinned, followed by an elfish grin from Leo, and the two practically bounced into a wrestling match.

“Well, thank you for keeping it away from us and the food,” Lucy called out nonchalantly before turning back to her juice. Jason and Peter merely glanced at each other and let out a sigh before slowly standing up to separate the two. Percy kept an eye on them in case they needed any help, but they were able to bring back the two troublemakers without much of a problem, and two big grins on their faces despite every attempt to pout.

Nico glanced at Jesse, “Do they do that all the time?”

“You have no idea.” But too soon, lunch was over and everyone was back at work. They were in the final lap of decorating when Nico felt a sudden dread overcome him. He wasn’t sure if anyone else sensed it too, or if it had just been happening gradually and he didn’t notice, but, everyone else was becoming more quiet. That probably was what allowed them to hear a crash in the distance.

“Did, did anyone hear that?” asked Jesse worriedly.

“I, I think so,” replied Jason. Everyone in the room began to tense up, though they continued to work albeit slowly. But the cherry on top came in the form of Grover, who burst through the door while flailing his arms, his eyes full of panic.

“Everyone, head to the barracks! Now!”

Percy leapt towards his best friend, “Grover, what’s going on?” Jason and Peter soon joined him.

“Everyone needs to get out now! There’s … the Hydra’s here! It’s heading this way! We need to go, now!” Everyone glanced at each other in alarm, but Jason, Percy, and Peter were the first to respond and sprang out the door, Leo and Edmund not far behind. Peter came sprinting back in.

“Everybody, out now!” Everyone dropped what they were doing and dashed out of the building. Nico made sure he was the last one out on purpose, especially when Cerberus popped out and nodded his heads. This was it, it was beginning.

“What in Hades?”

“By the Lion’s Mane, it, it …”

“Percy, it looks different!” shrieked Annabeth. Nico gasped when he finally got a look at the modified Hydra. It was modified, alright, the original Hydra was still there, but it was now covered in an almost silvery armour with spikes on the sides of its body and heads.

“Run, just, run! Everybody to the barracks!” called out Grover, The group started running. Nico did as well, straight into a shadow.

“Nico!” Hazel called out, right before he disappeared. He came out on top of the school building and quickly made sure that no one could see him before he let out Cerberus.

“Alright, looks like this is it.”

“Yup, that Hydra is definitely one of them,” growled Cerberus.

“Then let’s do this. Cerberus, power up!” Cerberus flew into the ring and Nico was instantly changed into his super hero garb. He leapt off the building and landed in direct sight of the hydra. The hydra’s five heads slowly turned towards the lone figure in black.

“Cerberus,” all five heads hissed at him.

“Kind of, I’m using his powers, but you do know what he’s here to do, right?”

“Send us back to Tartarus!”

“That’s right,” replied Nico as he pulled out his two scythes. He found to his surprise, relief, and delight that they were much lighter than they looked, but he could still feel the power surging through them.

“No! I will kill you first!” shrieked the hydra as it charged at him. Nico lept backwards, drawing the creature away from the civilians. He hoped his teammates would be able to get there in time to help him, that is, if they could get away to help, or if they even heard about the attack yet. There were too many possibilities for Nico to even consider, especially now that he had an angry, five headed, fire-breathing monster rushing towards him. He lept back a few more times, pulling the Hydra even further away, and to give them ample room to fight without harming anyone else. The hydra gave no thought as to Nico’s strategy as it seemed to only be concerned with destroying him before he destroyed it. When Nico got the Hydra to a spot he was satisfied with, he turned and attacked. He wished ever so much more for the Phoenix as its fiery powers would have kept any severed heads from growing back. But that really left Nico with one option, to attempt to attack its body. He flipped over the heads, completely clearing them, and in its surprise, he brought his scythes down hard. But when the scythes and the armour made contact, it emitted a sonic wave that sent Nico flying into a boulder. He groaned as he tried to get back up.

The Hydra laughed, “Like my new armour? It protects the gem’s source from you, and nothing can cut through it.” Except the Nemean Lion, realized Nico. He got up and yelped as the Hydra’s claws wrapped around his waist, and squeezed. “Whoever thought they could stop us is a fool. You shouldn’t have gotten involved, because now, you’re going to die.” Nico fought frantically against the claws as he wheezed for breath before noticing with horror that the Hydra was going to torch him.

“They say two heads are better than one, but this is a bit much!” Both the hydra and Nico jumped when the new voice spoke. Nico’s spirit began to soar, perhaps that was one of his teammates! “Hey big fella, I’m over here!” The two glanced around at the surrounding areas to find the speaker. “No, no, over here! Come on man, I’m waving my arms! Can’t you see me?”

“Where are you?” roared the hydra.

“Apparently only two heads are better than one. You have five heads, and you’re dumb and blind!”

“Show yourself!”

“I am! You’re just not looking! Come on! My arms are getting tired of waving at you!” That’s when both Nico and the hydra noticed the fiery feathered figure in the treetops. Nico blinked in surprise, he was pretty visible! How did the hydra not notice him before? Nico’s only excuse for not being able to see him was because the hydra was blocking his vision half the time. But Nico didn’t get to think more on it as the hydra shrieked in pain, and Nico was falling. He was caught by the Nemean Lion, though the only real definitive feature was the mane-like hoodie. The rest of it certainly looked like a girl in a lion-colored suit.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Um, uh, yeah, thanks.”

“Are you going to say something about me being a girl too?”

“No, no, you just took me by surprise, and well … look out!” The hydra let loose a stream of fire, but the Nemean Lion stepped between the flames and Nico, the flames passing around them harmlessly. When the creature finally stopped, it let out a roar.

“Traitor!”

“No, Nemea was just given a better deal, that’s all,” quipped the girl. Nico grabbed her arm as the Phoenix swooped down for an attack.

“I need you to get that armour off of it. It’s the only way I can get to the gem’s source.”

“Right, on it. Hey Phoenix, I need you to help me take care of these heads!” she called out as she raced towards the two fire-throwing combatants.

He grinned at her, “With pleasure!” With a grunt, the Nemean Lion jumped up and extended her claws. As soon as she swiped her hand across the hydra’s first head, the Phoenix threw a fireball at it. Two more heads did not pop out. They quickly worked their way through the other four heads before the Nemean Lion slashed her claws across the armour that lay on the hydra’s back. Nico had his scythes glowing and ready, and when he saw a faint, greenish glow on the hydra’s back, he charged and brought both scythes down hard. The hydra began to disintegrate, every single bit being sucked into a stone surrounded by a green glow. When it stopped glowing, it fell to the ground. Nico picked it up and realized that it was a coral.

“Alright, that was awesome, man!” Phoenix approached Nico and raised his hand for a high-five. Nico just glanced at him before turning back to the stone.

“Is that what they’ll turn into?” asked the Nemean Lion.

“Kind of, they might turn into different stones, but, yes.”

“So, now what?”

“I have to bring this to Hades. Uh, thanks for your help, looks like we’re done for today.”

“Hey man, come on, be nice! This is the first time for all of us. Phoenix did say we are a team.”

“Speaking of, should we continue to use our creatures’ names, or should we come up with something else for each of us? This guy here blatantly pointed out that the Nemean Lion isn’t a girl.”

“Yeah, so you could be …”

“Lioness,” mumbled Nico. The girl glanced at him in surprise. Why? Lioness meant a female lion, so it was the logical result.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say! And you can call me … Hot Stuff!”

“No, you’re going to be Firebird, and I’ll be Ghost Hound. There, simple enough.”

“What? No, Firebird’s way too simple. I want something hot and sizzling … ooh, maybe McSizzle!”

“No, absolutely not, it’s Firebird. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

“Should we reveal our identities?” asked Lioness.

Nico shook his head, “It’s best that we don’t. I don’t want anyone to accidentally slip something about one of the others.”

“Oh, um, OK.”

Nico sighed, “But, when I hand this to Hades, I can ask if he thinks it’s a good idea. I’ll let you know when the next monster comes.”

“Thank you,” Lioness smiled. “See you for the next round!” With a smile and a wave, she lept away.

“Huh, nice move, doing that to win the lady’s favor.”

“I wasn’t doing it to win her favor or anything.”

“Oh, so I’ve got first dibs!”

“What? No! You … we’re supposed to be a team to stop monsters from destroying Narnia, we’re not here to flirt with girls!” As he said it, Nico thought it odd that he heard something similar being said somewhere before.

Firebird chuckled, “Whatever man. We’ll talk about this later. I’ve got something to get back to. See ya!” With that, his annoyingly grinning face finally flew away, leaving Nico alone in the former battlefield. Heaving a sigh, he shadowed quickly to his father’s realm. He let Cerberus do the guiding as he had no idea where Hades would have wanted him to go. But he found out quickly when he stepped out of the shadows and saw that he was in a room filled with jewel cabinets.

“Well done, you have captured your first monster,” came Hades’ voice. Nico turned around, there was his father, walking towards him.

“Won’t Zeus suspect something now?”

“Oh, he already knows. But now he also finally realizes the extent of the danger that you are in and why I had to do what I had to do. So, for now, you’re not going to get a lightning bolt down your back.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Hades chuckled as he patted Nico’s head, “And thank you, for taking care of this. I apologize for not being able to tell you everything and had to leave that to Cerberus, but it was for the best.” Nico merely nodded as he opened the palm of his hand, the coral left by the Hydra was still there. “Ah yes, thank you.” Hades took the stone and placed it in one of the cabinets. “Things are going to get worse.”

“With monsters on the loose, how could it get any better?”

Hades glanced at him, a sad smile on his face, “That is true, but, the monsters are to get more and more powerful. Hephaestus is creating four more pieces, just in case you need aid.”

“Well, thank you … thank you, for looking out for us.”

Hades patted his shoulder, “It’s supposed to be my job, and since I’ve basically chosen you to fight this, well, what kind of a father would I be if I let my only son get killed?”

“Uh, Lycaon?”

Hades snorted, “Well, yes, but, let’s not go there, shall we? Point is, I do care about your well-being, and though I can’t be there for you all the time, I will try to take care of you the best way that I can.”

Nico nodded, “I know.”

“Well, I suggest you get back to Narnia, Cerberus must be needing some food and rest.”

“Right, um, real quick question.”

“Yes?”

“The others were wondering, should we reveal our true identities to each other?”

“Maybe later, but not right now. You three just started working together. Perhaps later, when you know for certain that, no matter who’s beneath the mask, you can and will trust them.”

Nico blinked, “Oh, um, OK, good point. But, you’re worried more about them trusting me, than me trusting them.”

Hades shrugged, “It could go either way. It’s better to gain that trust and then reveal yourselves. Do you think that answer will satisfy them?”

“M-maybe, if not … I’ll think of something.”

Hades nodded, “Alright, but if you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Right, goodbye Dad.”

“Goodbye, my son.” The two vanished into the shadows, though Nico felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. His father was thinking about how Lioness and Firebird would react to him without his mask. His dad noticed how many people acted around Nico. Sure, there were a few who didn’t seem to mind him, but most of them were in other high schools. As for everyone at Jupiter High, he always noticed the looks of relief when he was leaving. Perhaps Hades also saw this as a way to help his son get a social life? If it was, it was turning out to be a pretty good idea so far. Neither Lioness nor Firebird seemed to have a problem with him. At least, not that he had noticed as of yet. Maybe once they fought more monsters together, he would be able to tell for sure. Nico heard a little whimper, quickly realizing that Cerberus was about to change him back. He quickly found a spot not far from the school where no one could see him, right as Cerberus flew out of his ring.

“Yay, we did it,” barked Cerberus tiredly.

“That we did, Cerberus. Are there any pomegranate seeds left?”

“A few.”

“Think that should hold you until supper?”

“I think so. Right now, I just want to take a nap, I’m so tired,” Cerberus yawned.

“Alright, but please try not to snore, I have to go find Hazel and the others.” Cerberus’ three heads slowly nodded as he fought to keep his eyes open long enough to dive into Nico’s pocket. Nico watched as each head took a pomegranate seed, chewed on it, and instantly fell asleep before he set out to find the volunteers.

“Nico, where have you been?” asked Hazel when he nearly ran into them on their way back to the school.

“Uh, um …” Oh shoot, he didn’t have a ready excuse.

“Trying to sneak off and get a piece of the action, eh?” quipped Edmund.

“S-something like that, yeah.” Keep it steady, keep it smooth, or they’ll figure it out real quick.

“Did Ghost Hound have to save you?” grinned Leo.

Nico blinked, “Say what?”

“Guess the guy didn’t give you his name then. But Firebird and Lioness came to the barracks to make sure everyone was alright. They told us Ghost Hound was bringing the monster down to Hades,” commented Susan, acting a bit flustered. Had she been flirting with Firebird?

“And that the monsters change into stones?” wondered Peter as he scratched his head.

“Which would make sense if Gaia is somehow involved,” mused Jason. But Nico alone noticed the glances the four Pevensies shot each other. Were they wondering about the White Witch too? It would in fact make sense, Chiron had mentioned a few witches and dwarves had attempted to bring her back once before, who’s to say Gaia couldn’t do it? And if she had, they were in for some real trouble. She was only defeated thanks to Aslan. Would he come back to defeat her a second time?

“Well, as much as we would all like to speculate about everything, there’s still an auditorium to finish decorating,” quipped Jesse.

“Oh man, you’re right!”

“And we’ve only got a few minutes!” exclaimed Hazel as she glanced at her watch.

“Then let’s get a move-on!”

“I only hope the hydra made everybody late,” mumbled Leo as everyone dashed back to the school and rushed around, getting the final touches put up. The festival went on without a hitch, the talk focusing on the superheroes who saved the day and wondering what was going on with the monsters. Nico couldn’t say a word even if he wanted to, as soon as he attempted to talk about it, everyone seemed to clam up or he was just outright ignored. Why? He wasn’t going to combust or randomly call up zombies or kill anyone. Why did they fear him so much? Why did they fear Hades so much? After several attempts, Nico just about gave up, until a girl his age in a sky blue dress approached him. It took him a second, but he was startled to recognise Lucy Pevensie.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“We thought you were going to join us. Well, aren’t you?” asked Lucy. Nico blinked, they were expecting him? He glanced over at the table where her siblings and their friends sat. A few of them noticed he was looking their way and waved him over. “I know we’re not demigods and might not entirely understand what you’re going through, but, we’d like to try. I mean, my brothers, sister, and I are the kings and queens of Narnia, we want to be sure we’re doing right by everyone, including you.”

“But, you were expecting me?”

“Well, yes. We noticed you were trying to make the rounds. I mean, unless, you don’t want to hang out with us.”

“Oh, no, it’s just, well, I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I guess I misjudged you. I thought you’d be like everybody else and shun me.”

“What? Oh no! After what happened this afternoon?”

Nico glanced at her warily, “What do you mean?”

“Well, Ghost Hound, Lioness, and Firebird are clearly working for Hades to protect us. Why should we shun the son of the one deity who seems to be actively looking out for our welfare?”

“Looks like someone was paying attention.”

“So, are you going to come?” she asked again. He glanced over at the table as a few of them began to laugh.

His lips began to curl into a smile, “Sure.”

“Great!” Lucy grabbed his arm and practically dragged him to the table. He was surprised at how strong she was. There was more to this girl than met the eye. That’s when Nico took a double take at her barrette. Was it glowing? If so, was Queen Lucy Lioness? If so, she was an invaluable member of their team, and that meant Nico had to make extra sure that nothing happened to her. But she did have the Nemean Lion, maybe that was all she needed. Those thoughts were soon pushed to the side when Lucy’s group practically welcomed him with open arms. They did seem a bit nervous, but Nico quickly found out that it had more to do with trying to find out what they could talk about with him rather than being cautious of him for being a son of Hades. And, surprisingly, he enjoyed himself that evening, they were a great group. Maybe things weren’t so bad after all, even with the monsters. But, as he was soon to find out, as his father had mentioned, things were only going to get worse.

#Guardians of Narnia #Narnia #narniaweek2017 #narniaweek #heroes of olympus #modern AU #superhero AU #super narnians

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snowbellewells · 8 years ago

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“Father Figure”

Well friends, this is neither the prompt that I owe @revanmeetra87 (Though I’m working on it, I promise!), the one I owe @whimsicallyenchantedrose (Though the inspiration for it has finally come to me), nor the epilogue to my Liam/Belle MC, but it is a little something to cap off the CS Wedding celebration I was doing last week. I promised a new one shot for the occasion after I posted all those past wedding-related stories, and I didn’t quite get it done in time. This one was started before Sunday’s episode, and I meant it to be pretty much canon compliant, just a missing scene. Now that it’s aired there are some details that make it more canon divergent, but I still don’t think it’s too far off. I was down enough after Monday’s news and what it could mean, that I didn’t get this concluded and polished up until today, but I still wanted to post it, so I hope you will enjoy the fluff and family feels found here.

“Father Figure”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

The morning of the wedding had begun in a troubling wet, dreary grey of rain drizzle, but by mid-afternoon the clouds had slowly parted and sunlight was peeking through their wispy, tattered remnants with gaining strength. Killian Jones had stood for some time, uncaring if he got a bit wet, staring over the water from the side of the Jolly, hoping deep in his heart of hearts that they would not have to change the venue for their nuptials. He would of course rather that than see the occasion dampened or have to postpone it even a day longer, but he had truly hoped to pledge his troth to his True Love while standing on the sturdy boards of his previous truest love; the old girl who had been his home and companion for centuries.

Once the day began to dry, Killian had gone below to his cabin and started getting dressed. The dark suit with its soft, well-made material felt transformative against his skin, whispering as it brushed across his flesh that today was infinitely special. Today began the rest of his life – the happiest and best part. And in a town where magic was all around at most given moments, that this day would still have a magic all its own was truly saying something. Emma Swan – the Princess of Misthaven, the Savior – loved him, and today she would promise to spend the rest of her life with him, as he would her. As he shrugged into the waistcoat over the button up dress shirt, and deftly did its fastenings one-handed as well, Killian caught a glimpse of himself looking conspicuously misty-eyed in the reflection of the looking glass in the corner. It was true that is some ways, ever since Neverland – no, perhaps even since Lake Nostos and the beanstalk – he had been pledging himself to Emma every day; still, the culmination of his deepest wish seemed more than he could possibly deserve.

He was interrupted then from his preparations and reverie by a quiet knock on the cabin door. Just as well, Killian thought wryly, eying the bow tie laid out with the suit jacket on his bunk. There had been little chance he would be able to secure said article – he’d never even worn one before – without someone’s help, and now such aid was presenting itself.

His heart warmed, smile deepening when the voice that called his name proved to be Henry, asking if he could come in. “Aye,” Killian answered Swan’s boy affectionately, waving him forward when the teen’s face appeared around the edge of the sturdy wood. “Come in. I’m always glad to have you aboard, Lad, you know that.”

Henry nodded, but cleared his throat nervously and looked more than a bit uneasy as he shuffled his feet forward into the room.

Killian was momentarily concerned at the young man’s bearing – surely if something were wrong, if something had happened to Emma, he would know; he would feel it. There had been nothing from their fae nemesis this day, and he had hoped to have this one occasion without fight or interruption, but he wouldn’t put it past the malicious Stiltskin matriarch to make her presence known even now. He was halfway across his cabin to the bracket under the window where he had carefully stowed his sword, ready to take it up again in service of his Swan, when Henry finally spoke.

As he did, and as Killian turned to listen to the young man about to officially become his stepson, Killian noticed for the first time that the Author also carried a book in his hand. It was not his usual storybook, the huge brown leather bound one bearing all their past tales in the Enchanted Forest, but a smaller black one the pirate had never seen before.

“Killian,” Henry started again, voice still soft and somewhat hesitant as he moved closer, finally coming to stand face-to-face with the man who had become supporter, confidante and sometime partner-in-crime to him – in some ways, the most constant father figure he’d known. He held his hand out, with the handsome new book in it, offering it to Killian. “In this realm, they sometimes give the guy getting married something. It’s called a groom’s gift. So… anyway… I just wanted to give you this,” he offered, meeting Killian’s eyes fleetingly and then dropping his gaze again with a sheepish flush to his cheeks. “It’s not much really… but I… I wanted you to have it. It’s our story.”

The pirate’s eyes shot up to Henry’s then, awed emotion flowing through him and having to see into the face of this extraordinary young man he loved as his very own to make sure he was really hearing what he thought. “Truly?” he finally choked out, arching an eyebrow despite himself, his voice low and rougher than normal, but struck deeply by the gesture that Henry was making.

Henry chuckled a bit then, as if Killian’s sincere gratitude and affection made him more at ease with the gift he had given. “Aye,” the youth mocked Hook now in his answer, and they both seemed unable to stop the silly grins spreading across their faces.

“Well then, thank you, m’boy,” Killian spoke solemnly, clasping Henry’s shoulder warmly and merely drinking in the moment, stunned that his long, tangled lifeline had brought him here with this young man, a chance at a family he would have never imagined coming to him again.

Killian took the gift, holding it in his hand and running his thumb over the smooth cover reverently. Curious, he almost flipped it open to see what Henry had put down, but as if reading his mind, the lad stepped forward, shaking his head. Cheeks flushed again, Henry’s grasp on Killian’s forearm stilled his motion to open and begin reading. “No! Don’t read it now while I’m standing here!” the teen exclaimed in humored exasperation.

Smirking only slightly, Killian conceded, “As you wish,” with an affectionate nod of deference to Henry’s wishes. Sitting the book on his bunk for the moment, he turned back to the lad seriously before pressing on. “I shall wait until later to peruse your fine gift. But… if I may – perchance you might do one more thing for me?” Reddening a bit himself, Killian gestured to the undone bow tie where he had discarded it atop the desk by his mirror, his awkward all-done-up collar, and gave his stepson a lopsided smile. “If you could be so kind?”

Shaking his head, Henry nodded and stepped forward, releasing a good natured snort of laughter at Killian’s expense, but lightly reaching out and putting the ensemble together as best he knew how, much like his Grandpa David had shown him to do his own.

When he had finished, the teen gave his soon-to-be stepdad a once over, smiling once more at the man he had come to look up to, who loved his mom and made her smile, who had taught him sailor’s knots and navigation by the stars, and how to manage his algebra homework. This man had always had his back. Even when Henry himself had been too stubborn to see, Killian had wanted the best for him, as any father would. Though he would always miss his birth father and wish they had gotten more time together, Henry was struck suddenly by how his father figure had been there all along; he had never been truly without. Dropping his hands from the slightly crooked but still fastened bow tie, Henry lunged forward to hug Captain Hook – their pirate – tightly in a swell of gratitude and love.

Killian was stunned still for several beats of time, blinking rapidly at the tears which welled up at Henry’s tight embrace and obvious acceptance, but he quickly recovered and hugged Swan’s boy back just as firmly, clasping him close for several long moments. When they parted, there were conspicuous snuffles and bashful half smiles on both their parts, but also a new understanding of just how gladly and irrevocably they were family now.

A text buzzed through for Henry then, and he pulled out his talking phone as Killian watched. “Grandma needs me for some decoration issue,” Henry said. “So, are we all set, Captain?”

“Aye,” Killian affirmed with a wide grin and quick nod. “I’ll see you again shortly…at the altar.”

After Henry had dashed off, Killian moved to his bunk once more, fully ready for the ceremony that was only a little over an hour away. Before he headed above deck though, he was anxious to look at the gift his stepson had brought him.

Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Killian picked up the book, opened to the first page, and began to read:

“Once there was a little boy with an old soul and a heavy heart. Though he believed in heroes and good and fairy tales, he didn’t know if anyone really loved him or where he truly belonged.

There was also, once upon a time, a man who had lived for centuries, but had lost his boyhood much too soon. He was alone in the world with nothing and no one to live for.

In truth, the two should never have met. But meet they did, and the story of how it came to be, brought love and joy back into both of their lives…”

Killian kept reading, through a sheen of happy tears, all the way to the end; the warmth in his heart spreading throughout his whole body until he felt it might escape in beams of light from his fingers and toes. He could hardly wait to thank Henry for this precious gift, and though words would not fully express it, attempt to tell the lad how much it meant to him.

Neither of them had lived through very happy starts, but they were now embarking on their happy ending at last…

Tagging a few lovelies who may enjoy this: @whimsicallyenchantedrose @flslp87 @kmomof4 @revanmeetra87 @singingisfun @laschatzi @blowmiakisscolin @drowned-dreamer @bromfieldhall @midnightswans @jennjenn615 @winterbaby89 @ultraluckycatnd @kitkattin92 @katealexandra26

#cs wedding fic #cs fluff one shot #captain cobra fluff

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shikungigi · 6 years ago

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After getting lost in Madrid, I came back to my comfort zone for a week then headed out the next Saturday to Marseille. I was very anxious about this trip to France because it was going to be loooooong. When I say long, I mean very long. Why? Because cheap is expensive. As a newbie, I am not an expert at looking at the best flights with the shortest layovers, neither was my friend. Plus we let these flight booking sites trick us with their cookies. So much so that we later discovered that people who booked different flights months after, all got even cheaper rates and better flights. SMH. So it’s not even a matter of cheapness, it’s inexperience.

Anywho, the day came and I got relieved a bit. Etihad Airways is a cool airline with female and male cabin crew that sport very striking lipstick and perfect hair cuts respectively. And it was my first time on such a large plane. I sat next to this American girl who was quite chatty at the beginning, with some braids on her blonde hair. LOL. Total hippie. Plus since we booked these flights via Alitalia originally, I could not book seats in advance so I ended up next to the lavatories. LOL. So you keep hearing that loud vacuum flushing all the time. I can’t seem to remember what I watched during this leg. I think it was The 15:17 to Paris. I had to Google the title now. I was not sleepy yet, the best was yet to come. I got to Abu Dhabi at some minutes to 9. A few minutes into walking into the terminal, I met up with this other Kenyan who had an even longer layover, but we lost each other at the security check.

Abu Dhabi International Airport is a real swanky airport. They have poured a lot of their abundant money into making it the airport of choice for layovers. I was going to spend 6 hours here, so I decided to find the best seats in the terminal of my next flight. If I was sleepy, these would have been very helpful. I was not. Yet. I grabbed something to eat and chat up my people. I am not exactly sure what I did for the rest of the six hours. What I remember is too much a/c and people running across the terminal to their flights. I finally moved down to my gate about an hour to my flight. I was obviously starting to get real tired, so I did not like the next flight much. But hold that thought.

Real nice, right?

I think this is when I watched The Greatest Showman in my utter fatigue. And even then, I was so enraptured by the movie, even in this poor airplane quality amidst that continuous annoying drone, I cannot stop playing the soundtrack album now. A Million Dreams is playing in my ears right now, while I’m in the belly of a different drone — a hairdryer. I will not deny I watched it on and off, between dozing off, trips to the loo and munching some bits and pieces of Etihad supper. That notwithstanding, I really had to fight off my tears, an endeavour I failed at miserably. I ended up with a serious lump of pain in my throat by the end of it. If you’re into musicals or looking for a movie you can watch with little ones, I think this is it. I am definitely rewatching it in better quality soon.

Off to Fiumicino, Aeroporti di Roma (Rome) a.k.a. Leonardo da Vinci, my last and longest layover before Marseille. And the 8 hours were tortuuuuuure. I got there some minutes to 7AM, Sunday. And let us not forget crossing time zones just makes it even more confusing. Abu Dhabi is an hour ahead of us. Rome is 2 hours behind us. I think. And remember, I have not really slept since 8AM, Saturday. We all squeeze into the transfers hall which seems a bit too cramped for my liking and I already know I will not like my stay at this airport. The only flashy things that could not help me one bit were the luxury stores across Terminal E on two floors. I was in Italy, after all. Dolce&Gabbana. Pandora. Gucci. Burberry. The seats were not going to help in my sleepy misery, so I just sat there and played with my phone until my flight was finally displayed on the screens. I went through passport control as I was now really entering the Schengen area and went on to more shops and uncomfortable chairs. Try as I might, I could not sleep. So, again, I do not know what I did with those 8 hours. This is also mixed with the fact that I could have sworn I watched Modern Family for hours on Netflix but I can neither confirm this from my watch history nor from searching on Netflix. I was definitely not day-dreaming because my Google history tells me I was on Netflix all afternoon. But the other Google says Modern Family has never been on Netflix. Wacha tuachie hapo kwanza. What I am sure about is that I finally found myself inside a small Alitalia flight to Marseille in the early evening. I sat next to a polite boy who was all Bonjour on me. That was the first time I acted like I learnt French from my mum.

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———————————————————— Marseille is definitely hot. It’s a coastal town. I have never been happier to alight from anything in my life like I was when we did at Marseille. I just wanted to sleep! The immigration lines were so long I almost gave up. But since I had already got the stamp in Rome, the guy did not look at my passport twice. I ventured out into the Arrivals hall to wait for my people to get me. We headed out into the Alps (Alpes in French) some minutes after that. This is where we were going to spend most of the time in France. Destination, a little village called Saint Jacques. Why? Wedding Bells!!!!! How? All under the auspices of my dear loving friend Leilah and her very beautiful family. Just writing this almost made me tear up, so let me stop and will pick that up later. In private. Where no peering eyes are wondering why this crazy black girl is crying on a plane. LOL. I have clearly written this post for many days in different places and spaces, so don’t even try to envision my writing pattern.

So from Marseille, the capital of Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur region (south-East France basically), the roads are a delight. They literally pay for them highways at toll gates. Cars stick to the right here too. I will never get used to that. The drive was a feast for my sore eyes as we drew nearer to the Alps. I temporarily forgot I was tired and sleepy. My new road trip friends offered some very sweet bread too. I mean, how else was I to really know I was in France? There was a bit of a drizzle too. Darkness had covered the mountains by the time we got to the village. And that is to say a lot considering the sun goes down late. Again, a warm welcome awaited us as the family ushered us into the most ageless home I have ever walked into right next to a church. I remember walking in and commenting on how I smelt history around. And great food! And books! And French! Oh my goodness. Was I not supposed to be sleepy btw?

After the warm dinner, mamé walked us to what we would call home for the next few days. I was in awe. This was the second most antique home I had ever walked into. She showed us everything and kept apologizing because she believed this was not good enough for us. I was confused. Why was she apologizing? This was like walking through a dream for me. Like walking into one of those fairy tales I had read as a kid. Red Riding Hood, perhaps. Or living inside the set of Once Upon A Time. Just look at these pics and tell me I am wrong?

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Anyway, I finally got over my awe and slept like a log. I think we woke up at 11 the next day. On a Monday. I mean, what else would I want in life than to wake up like that and open wooden shutters into the most awe-inspiring view of the Alps outside. Sigh. I want to go back.

Monday was chill, with more bread, cheese, chicken and sausages. We had lunch outside in the luscious green compound outside the main house. Then we attended mass in the church. Legitimately the most ancient church I have walked into. The experience was made all the more exotic because most of the mass was in French. I could not wait for the next day, wedding day!

And it came! A beautiful summer morning with everyone getting ready for the occasion. Leilah looked exquisite! She has always had a way with elegant gowns. Speaking of elegance, the wedding was the epitome of admirable simple-elegance. Sorry, what did you say? I can’t make up words? Not today. It made me rethink my whole wedding dream. I do think that the fact that we were already in a naturally beautiful place that needed no expensive and unnecessary decor contributed to this. And the people who streamed in to share in this joy. What else do you really need? Nothing. It was a lovely ceremony which included the baptism of the couple’s adorable baby girl. You should have seen me singing along to French hymns! 😀 You would have thought I had been there for months.

After the church ceremony, we spent some time out in the sun on some drinks and snacks. We then headed out to the wedding party. It was an intimate affair, not much different from the Kenyan ones we know with speeches and good food. Let me not talk too much about this from here. I will let the pictures do that for us.

The evening was wonderful! I never thought I could dance in public until this night. I guess I was still in a dream. We danced for hours in the open to all kinds of tunes, from African to pop, to reggae and samba. Suffice to say, my limbs were in pain the next day. I got over that real quick though as we headed out for a little hike in the Alps that afternoon. The views here are to die for, even when you’re not into climbing stuff. Worry not. You can just come here to stare.

The weather has a funny way of communicating, because after all the sun, the Alps decided it was time for rain on Thursday. So we tucked in and spent the rest of the day just making some Kenyan noise and eating. I could have sworn I had gained many kilos during my stay here but I actually didn’t.

We headed back to Marseille, with a short stopover at Gap. A little town that left nothing imagination, especially after experiencing dreamy Alps, but I did love these!!!

I got to experience Marseille for a few hours when the temperatures had dipped a little this time. The sights from Basilique Notre Dame de la Garde were amazing, including the sunset.

I also got to feast on the biggest burger I have seen in my life. Generally the short experience in France encouraged me in my quest to learn French. And to experience the love of a people brought together by love that supersedes all the many unnecessary complications we insist on bringing upon ourselves. The next time I am back there (because there will be a next time), I will have more to say about the city. Or maybe even drop by Paris. No, not maybe. Definitely. By then, I will be a master of French.

For now, I bow out, with a dreamy smile on my

&nface. À bientôt, mon amis!

An Alpine Affair After getting lost in Madrid, I came back to my comfort zone for a week then headed out the next Saturday to Marseille.

#Alps #France #French #Love #Marseille #wedding

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sailorsandseadogs · 6 years ago

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Just When We Thought It Was Boring … (June 3-16, 2019

Sailing Passage from Cabedelo, Brazil to Cayenne, French Guiana

Aided by the strong Guyana Current, at times we were surfing the 3-meter Atlantic waves with record-setting speeds for Seefalke of 8 to 9 knots, smashing our single-day record by more than 60 nautical miles. But as we entered the Doldrums of the ITCZ, we needed to motor sail just to make around 1.5 knots at times. It was the definition of one step forward and two steps back.

In the end, it took us 12 days to make the 1,400 nautical mile trek from Cabedelo to Cayenne.

At times we had perfect sailing with strong wind and heavy current propelling us forward. At other times, we virtually sat still.

It was a long passage following a long land layover. We had mundane and even somewhat boring days where the landscape and the routine never changed.

But we were often reminded of one thing—never tempt Neptune by complaining about being bored. He will make you pay!

Monday, 3 June 2019

After sitting in port for three months, we checked out at customs and immigration—an all day procedure—and began final preparations for departure. We had plenty of time on our visas because we had both left the country during our stay in Brazil. However, we had no time left on our ability to keep the boat in Brazil any longer.

So we made the decision—or rather the decision was made for us—to plan a passage straight to French Guiana rather than making some stops along the way at some of the coastal Brazilian islands we wanted to see. This also solidified our decision to skip the Amazon Delta.

Tuesday, 4 June 2019

We made our final big provision run and stocked up on food, water, and supplies. I spent a lot of time securing the cabin, something we hadn’t needed to do for three months. We also did a final round of laundry and said goodbye to the Cabedelo locals who had become our family for three months.

Around 16:00—high tide—we untied the lines and moved to an anchorage just outside the marina. This way, we could depart early the next morning without worrying about the tides and without needing to coordinate with marina staff to release us from the mooring buoys.

We had made plans to spend our final evening with some dear friends aboard SV Redemption. The captain, Des, is a cool sailor and avid surfer from South Africa. He had sailed solo across the Atlantic, but hooked up with a crew in Cabedelo—20-somethings Isabelle, an American from Washington state, and her boyfriend Tory, an Australian. Neither Izzy nor Tory had ever sailed before.

The previous week we had spent some time with them aboard Seefalke, sharing stories of night watches and seasickness, challenging passages, whale sightings, and other tales sailors love to share. Both Izzy and Tory are surfers and seemed to be enjoying learning about sailing from Des.

This evening, our German sailor friends—Ingo and Andrea—also joined us aboard Redemptionfor an evening of drinks and great conversation.

Ingo and Andrea were leaving their boat, Easy One, in Brazil for a few months while they planned to fly back to Germany to work. We were trying to coordinate with Des and his crew to hook up along the way to French Guiana and perhaps caravan sail a bit.

Redemptionis a very cool ship. It’s about the size of Seefalke, and was once used by Des as a charter boat in South Africa.

It was a lovely evening. We said our goodbyes, for now, and exchanged contact information.

Day 1 at sea — Wednesday, 5 June 2019

Departure 07:00

Leaving from anchorage, our departure was smooth and easy as we cruised casually down the river. As we were passing the wind shadow of Cabedelo and entering the Atlantic, I crawled out onto our freshly-repaired bowsprit to unfurl the Genoa.

With waves crashing the bow as I balanced on our new bowsprit boards, I could already feel the uneasiness settle in as my sea legs were more than wobbly. It was inevitable and not surprising to once again feel the pit of my stomach begin to rise.

I was seasick all day as I struggled to regain my sea legs. Maik wasn’t feeling well either. One thing that always surprises me, though I should be accustomed to it by now, is how violent the retching can be. And I always forget about how the force of it makes me lose bladder control. In one day, I went through three pairs of panties.

Maik spent some time in the engine room, which didn’t help his queasiness. Our main fuel tank was overflowing into the engine room, so he was sponging out the extra fuel into a bucket then I would empty the bucket into spare 8-gallon water jugs. We were both covered in diesel and the fumes contributed to our continued seasickness.

The only way to get to our engine room is by removing the cockpit floor and lowering yourself down into the pit. It feels like going down the small porthole of a submarine. The movement of the sea is intensified down below and its HOT. It’s also a very tight squeeze. Any work you do in the engine room requires you to be twisted like a pretzel.

I still refused to take seasickness medicine, but I began to consider it.

Day 2 — Thursday, 6 June 2019

82.7 nautical miles — 17:33 hours at sea

During my early morning shift, around 02:00, I continued with the retching and sacrificed another pair of panties. This time, I reluctantly decided to take some Dramamine, which helps a little with the seasickness, but it makes you very sleepy. It’s important to sleep it off after taking it. It wasn’t easy, but I made it the next two hours through my shift to 04:00 then crashed.

At 06:00, just two hours into my sleep shift, Maik decided to go into the engine room and bail the fuel again. I got up to help, still drowsy and loopy from the Dramamine. When I finally got back to sleep an hour later, Maik switched the sails from port to starboard, and I could only slide off the bed right onto the floor. Ugh!

Later that day, I began feeling better and started reading Adrift, an amazing story of one woman’s miraculous survival at sea.

I felt like I was getting my sea legs back a little. I ate and drank some, although I was feeling a bit dehydrated and my head was pounding. It was still unsafe to cook a real meal, but I ate some fruit, peanut butter crackers, and a little canned tuna.

During the day, I got thrown around the cabin a few times as heavy waves continued to crash us and rock the boat severely at times. However, the sailing was fast, fun, exciting, and relatively speaking, smooth.

As usual, Scout joined me for my first night shift.

Day 3 — Friday, 7 June 2019

232.2 nm — 41:35 hours at sea

We recorded our fastest one-day distance ever at 148.9 nm in 24 hours. We generally sail around 100 nm each day, so this seemed like warp speed for Seefalke.

I had a bad headache all day, I believe caused from the seasick medicine. But the retching had stopped. I finally took some Ibuprofen, which helped with the headache and other ailments, like the broken foot I was still battling.

I rested and read most of the day. I finished Adrift, which I thought I was much better than the movie — and started SeinLanguage, which I’ve read several times. The comedy quips from Jerry Seinfeld is a bit outdated, but still funny and I enjoyed the comic relief! I needed some light reading.

We had been trying to contact Des to see where we might meet with Redemption. He finally sent us a message through our Garmin Satellite and informed us that he lost his crew, but we didn’t know the whole story, yet.

Maik made egg and sausage quesadillas although it was still a bit uncomfortable to cook. The seas had smoothed a bit, and we moved the mainsail back to the port side which was more comfortable for sleeping.

I was finally getting my sea legs back but still feeling dehydrated. I must continue to drink more water, I reminded myself.

During the early night shift we had a little squall. Winds were at 20 knots and we were flying at 9 knots compared with Seefalke’susual 5-6 knot top speeds. It was short lived even though we hit a few more rain patches during the night.

There were more squalls during the early-morning shift, with heavy rain and huge wind gusts. At one point, it got very calm and still and dark all around us, and I felt like we were inside a cone of blackness. I couldn’t see a thing, but I could hear the wind whistling and howling and the waves crashing around me even though it felt like we weren’t moving.

Then the rain stopped. It was still. Black. Eerie.

Day 4 — Saturday, 8 June 2019

396 nm — 65:21 hours at sea

At 164 nm, we beat our 24-hour distance record again. We were flying!

It’s about this point in every voyage when you begin to lose track of the clock and the calendar. We rarely know what day it is or the time.

I wasn’t feeling well during my midnight-04:00 shift and decided to take some Dramamine. But that meant I needed to sleep.

Two hours later, Maik decided to bake homemade bread. Pans and pots were clanking all over and maniac stirring was happening. Ugh!!! I tossed and turned and moaned and complained, but he didn’t get the message.

Without the sleep after the medicine I had a pounding headache. But man, the bread sure was delicious!!

It was a rough and rocky day but I managed to get a deck shower (my first of this passage) and it felt so good to be clean and have clean hair. I still felt queasy all day, but managed to fend off the retching for another day. Even with some uneasiness, we were settling into a good routine, and the sea legs felt stronger.

We heard from Des via our Garmin InReach, and he gave us the details about his crew’s desertion.

Apparently, Izzy and Tory just decided they didn’t want to sail and was disillusioned about the sailing lifestyle so they took off and left Des stranded. I found this so irritating and confusing.

First, Des had delayed his departure several weeks waiting on his crew to arrive. Also, had we known, Des could have departed with us and had some company. This is one of the many reasons we would probably never pick up crew we don’t already know and trust. Izzy and Tory really let Des down and it angered me. Mostly I was confused because they seemed enthusiastic about the adventure.

Day 5 — Sunday, 9 June 2019

561 nm — 89:31 hours at sea

We had now passed the 6,000 mile mark for this entire voyage. It’s strange because we thought it would take us 6,000 miles to get from Stralsund to Gulf Shores, and we are now still about 3,000 miles away. This is why sailors rarely live by schedules. We would miss so much!

Scout, my ever-faithful night-watch companion continued to stay by my side as my night shifts became “our” night shifts. Cap’n Jack prefers to cuddle up next to Maik and sleep soundly while the girls stay on watch.

I can’t remember the last time I slept as hard as I did during my sleep shifts this night. Usually, I either wake up on my own just before my shift or a simple, soft-spoken “Baby, it’s time,” from Maik in the cockpit is enough to wake me. This time, at midnight, Maik had to physically shake me to wake me. And again on my next sleep shift it took both Beagles licking my face and pouncing on my tummy to wake me from the deep sleep.

We spent the morning cooking because it was unusually calm. We wanted to take advantage of the smooth conditions. Maik baked another loaf of fresh bread, and I made a pasta dish, all before 10:30 am. This way, we had good meals already prepared for the day in case conditions got rocky again.

I decided to lay down and read a while and fell once again into a deep slumber. I usually dream heavily, but this time I just crashed and woke up about three hours later without moving a muscle.

I don’t know if my body was just catching up on previous lack of sleep or if we are just simply finally settling into a comfortable sea routine. Maybe it was the smooth seas and cool breeze that just numbed my body and sent me into complete relaxation.

We were about halfway to our destination, and we kept busy the rest of the afternoon with basic boat chores and our regular routine.

Around sunset, we crossed the Equator again and entered the Northern Hemisphere. We crossed it the first time during our Atlantic Crossing. Without much fanfare and with no cameras recording, we popped one of our mini champagne bottles, gave a toast and a sip to Neptune then sipped the rest as we cuddled and kissed, admiring the sunset with the deep blue waves splashing all around us. It was private and sweet and a special moment just for us.

We reminisced about how far we’ve traveled and how different this Equatorial Crossing was from the first one just a few months ago. First, it wasn’t nearly as devastatingly hot! Also, we had been there before although it was still special in its own way.

We also realized that as we were sailing over the Equator, the Amazon River was directly west of us. We were about 300 miles offshore so of course, we couldn’t see it. We know we made the right decision to not sail the Amazon, but still it’s a bummer to be so close to something you want to do so badly and not be able to touch it.

We lamented about it, but only for a moment as we then settled once again into our night watch routine.

Day 6 — Monday, 10 June 2019

703 nm — 113:29 hours at sea

As we entered the Doldrums we began to lose some speed. However, it wasn’t quite as miserable as the last Doldrums experience.

We had a consistent cool breeze and enough wind to make an average of 4.5 knots all day—a considerable improvement from the 1.5 knot speed we traveled the last time through the ITCZ but not nearly as speedy as the 7-8 knots that had propelled us for the past four days.

Today was one of those downright uneventful, mundane days. Maik made more homemade bread and homemade pizza dough. I was so bored I was actually excited about the opportunity to wash the dishes!

Otherwise, I read most of the day and relaxed and wondered why I didn’t enjoy the lack of busyness more. It’s something I don’t get often and should learn to embrace and appreciate.

Maik was worried about the engine overheating so we did a trial 2-hour test and it passed with a steady 78-degree temperature. A big relief. Also, it seems we got the fuel leak under control. The good news is right now we don’t really need the engine, but the better news is it’s not overheating or overflowing diesel.

Scout lounged on the deck almost the entire day. She really loves being at sea and rarely wants to be in the cabin. She loves being in the fresh salt air with her velvety ears flopping in the wind.

It was such a calm evening, I pulled out my laptop during my early night shift and watched some of the TV series I had downloaded, “Friday Night Lights.” It helped pass the time once it became too dark to read. Of course, I religiously make my checks every ten minutes, even though we often go for days without seeing any other ships on these offshore passages. I can’t always pull out my laptop in the cockpit due to heavy saltwater splashes or sudden squalls. But on this night, it was calm and dry.

Day 7 — Tuesday, 11 June 2019

805 nm — 137:27 hours at sea

Sometimes on these long passages, night simply turns into day and day turns into night. It can get very mundane and boring.

I relished a shower and more rest. It was hot today as we made our way through the doldrums. I really wanted to jump in and take a swim but the swells and waves were too big, making that a dangerous proposition. I read an entire book today, Female Intelligence, a goofy romance novel.

Maik and I played Scrabble on the iPad for a little while, but it made Maik queasy so we stopped. Even though I tend to get more seasick than Maik, for some reason I am better able to handle looking at a screen or reading while at sea. These two things make Maik uneasy so he mainly listens to audible books.

Around sunset, we began to pick up some wind and some speed—a clear sign that we had moved north of the doldrums and into the NE Trade Winds. We had a bright orange sunset directly in front of us and the sky and water behind us was pastel pink.

Day 8 — Wednesday, 12 June 2019

917 nm — 161:29 hours at sea

I readanother entire book, this time a true crime piece by my favorite reporter, Edna Buchanan. Conditions were smooth and steady all day—just the way I like it! I mentioned to Maik how I wished we had been able to make a shorter passage after the three-month layoff rather than jumping right into another long passage. But it was out of our control this time. I was feeling ready to reach our destination.

He pointed out that this passage from Cabedelo to French Guiana puts us a third of the way to Alabama from Brazil. It will be our second longest passage to date and not much shorter in terms of distance (about 1,400 nm) than the Atlantic Crossing (just under 1,700 nm).

Day 9 — Thursday, 13 June 2019

1058 nm — 185:28 hours at sea

Maik made a huge breakfast for us—bacon, eggs, and sausage. Yummy! It’s such a treat to actually have a fridge now so we can store meat and enjoy COLD drinks.

We didn’t have much wind today, which meant we slowed a bit and also felt the blazing heat more. We cranked the motor on for a few hours just to give the boat and the air some movement.

We both took late afternoon showers to wash off the layers and puddles of sweat. Once the brilliant orange sun set over the horizon, the evening was nice and cool and breezy.

Day 10 — Friday, 14 June 2019

1,173 nm — 209:30 hours at sea

It never fails. We always pay for it when we complain about being bored at sea. It’s almost as if Neptune hears us and says, “You’re bored? Fine. I’ll give you something to do.”

It was about 22:30, and I was sound asleep. Maik yelled down from the cockpit, “Baby, get up here. I need your help!”

I bolted out of bed and went straight to the cockpit. Maik was already in the stern pulling away the cushions to get to the locker that contains the hydraulic steering system. He told me the rudder wasn’t working. He said he heard a sound that he thought was a motor boat in the distance. It was the hydraulic pump trying to move the piston.

The piston was moving but the rudder wasn’t moving. He could see that the connection had come loose.

Maik said he first thought he had run over a fishing net that had blocked the rudder. He checked to see if anything was in the water—any kind of debris that could have blocked the rudder. When he turned the wheel, the tiller didn’t move at all.

His second thought was that we had lost hydraulic oil in the hydraulic system. Perhaps one of the hoses had come loose. He opened the box to check on that and to switch from hydraulic steering to mechanical steering. There is a bypass valve that allows the oil to move freely when the hydraulic system is not moving it.

Then he saw that the rudder quadrant had come loose from the piston. For some reason, a board was blocking the movement and caused the piston to break loose from the quadrant. It could have been a sudden movement or something that happened over time.

Maik sent me to the stern deck so I could hold the tiller securely in the neutral position so that he could line up the piston to the the connector.

We were swirling around slowly in circles but since conditions were calm and there was hardly any wind, it was not a dangerous situation. We were in 1,000-meter deep waters with no ships in sight. There was plenty of room to maneuver.

Then I moved back to the cockpit to guide the steering wheel into the center position so Maik could attempt to join the two pieces. He was still in the stern cabin, holding back the cushions, flashlight in hand, trying to make the connection.

I transferred back and forth from the stern tiller to the cockpit wheel about four or five times until Maik was able to connect the two parts.

The whole time, dozens of large ants had surfaced from somewhere in the stern and were crawling all over Maik while he worked.

Once all was secure we checked to see if the manual hydraulic steering would work. It was working so we re-engaged the auto pilot. This all took about an hour and 15 minutes in the black of night.

This is how Maik describes the exact same episode, according to his official captain’s logbook entry:

22:30 rudder malfunction. All hands on deck. Genoa down. Piston came loose. Repaired. Rudder ok. 23:45 Genoa up. Ants.

I suppose it’s all about your perspective. :)

Maik told me to go back to sleep for a little while. When he woke me around 01:30 and I took the helm, a bright, full moon with a red ring was casting the most magnificent glow onto the calm water. A few dolphins showed up, but they were just fishing and passing through, not stopping to play.

We won’t be complaining about boredom anymore!

It was another scorching hot day. We were beginning to see signs of life—lots of birds, which usually means we are not far from land.

At one point, I went to the deck to douse myself with a bucket of cool sea water. In the distance, off the bow, I saw a huge pod of dolphins swimming toward us. Then I noticed another pod coming from the south of us from the port side. The dolphins were leaping into the air and showing off their acrobatics. Then I noticed another group of dolphins coming from the starboard side. They were coming from all directions as if they had never seen a ship before and they all needed to congregate at our bow.

We’ve seen many dolphins at sea, but we agreed we had never before seen this many at one time. There were literally hundreds of them.

They stayed with us for a while until we found ourselves inside a seaweed island. The dolphins just disappeared and we slowed to a crawl as we worked our way through the thick debris.

About an hour later, we noticed a squall on the horizon so we battened down the hatches and got ready for a little rain storm. We were so happy to have the cool rain that we both showered on the deck using the fresh rainwater and enjoyed the downpour.

I made a Waffle House-style hash-brown bowl for dinner with eggs and bacon and cheese. It was delicious and very hearty!

As I settled into my early-evening night shift, I finished reading my latest book, Sex on the Moon, about the famous Moon Rock Heist at NASA in the early 2000s. It was an intriguing tale, a true story, recommended to me by my pal, Tom Gallimore.

If you read this blog, you know by now that I love to read while at sea. If you have any good book recommendations, please let me know!

Day 11 — Saturday, 15 June 2019

1,275 nm — 233:27 hours at sea

In sharp contrast to the blistering heat we had experienced the past few days, it was rainy and almost chilly on this day.

What little wind we had was swirling. We had to motor sail most of the day. The sun finally came out and shone brightly around 17:00, giving us about an hour of gorgeous sunshine before time for it to set.

It’s difficult to believe that we are entering our 12th day at sea. It only took us 15 days to cross the entire Atlantic Ocean from Cape Verde to Ihle Fernando de Noranha.

Day 12 — Sunday, 16 June 2019

1,357 nm — 257:20 hours at sea

During the early morning shift, it was so calm and serene. It seemed as if nothing was moving—not the air or the water or even Seefalke. Just still and quiet. It was as if we were frozen in time.

I settled in, cuddled with Scout, and with the help of a small flashlight, I read my latest romance novel, Name Dropping, and enjoyed the relaxing, beautiful stillness.

About 03:30, just 30 minutes before I was to wake Maik, I was doing my 10-minute check and could see a ship on the starboard horizon way in the distance. Just a small little light, proving there was indeed life in the world besides us.

I looked to the port side and the huge glow from the moon revealed a massive storm cell heading right toward us.

I went below and closed all the hatches as a light sprinkle was quickly transforming into a downpour.

As the storm cell moved closer and crossed over from the side of the boat to the bow, all of a sudden, I had zero visibility. I looked toward where I had seen the little light of the ship and it was gone. Disappeared.

I told myself if was moving away from us and was simply too far away to see now. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened.

The rain began to pound and the wind began to gust. It was short lived, as these offshore squalls generally are, but I woke Maik a little early ... just in case.

When I awoke in the early morning, we had made landfall! We could see the islands of French Guiana in the distance, formations that would guide us for the next eight hours.

The approach was long, slow, and hot! After starting the passage with warp speed, it now felt like we were moving in slow motion. We drifted for several hours waiting on high tide and then motor sailed into the channel that would guide us to the port in Cayenne.

At 15:40, we dropped the anchor and popped our champagne to celebrate our second longest passage ever.

It always feels gratifying to reach our destination, but as Seefalkesettled into her anchorage, I began to feel a bit wobbly and nauseous.

This time ... land sickness.

Maik’s perspective about the passage:

After a passage of exactly 1,400 nautical miles and 273 hours at sea we finally dropped our anchor in the jungle of the Mahury River near Cayenne in French Guyana.

The passage started in the SE Trade Winds of 5-6 Beaufort with seas between 2 and 3 m, quite a challenge after 3 months on land when you first need to grow your sea legs again. But it was fun sailing and the powerful Guyana Current gave an extra boost so we broke one 24h record after the other.

Still dizzy from the speed rush, the Doldrums hit us hard and our speed dropped significantly when we were in the area of 1°S to 1°N.

After we were all shaken tender now it became time to broil in the brutal Equatorial sun.

But the ITCZ is narrow here on the West side of the Atlantic this time of year and the NE Trades brought us back on the racing track.

Just the last 250 miles felt like slow motion. Trapped in a low wind area we had to postpone our ETA repeatedly.

Finally, well timed with rising water we made the challenging approach into Mahury River. ⚓️

Final stats

1,400 nautical miles

12 days

273:21 hours at sea

Arrival time 15:40,Sunday, 16 June, 2019

NOTE: Maik will be updating his online logbook soon and will include information about how well our new solar panels performed, as well as other technical sailing and equipment details.

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