#college nights

[testormblog]

Where Can I Sleep?

The Station Master’s discovery of me asleep in the railway carriage forced me to find a bed in Brisbane for college nights.  If somebody else had found me like a copper, I could have been arrested for vagrancy even though I hadn’t intended to sleep overnight in the carriage.

Mother mentioned she had a friend at Sunnybank, who’d give me bed and breakfast for five shillings a night.  The minute Mother said ‘friend’, I should have been suspicious.  This friend I hadn’t heard of previously.  Mother had probably met this supposed friend on her most recent train trip to Brisbane.  My desperation won out however.  I could stumble into bed at eleven yet catch my usual train from Sunnybank station, much later at 7.30 am.  The arrangement seemed like a reasonable solution.

The next week, I walked from the train station with my small kit bag and a piece of paper with the address.  It was 10 pm.  Whilst I was familiar with the road, I didn’t know the house.  I arrived at the address and looked twice at the ramshackle hovel and its overgrown surrounds.  Surely not!  I knocked on the door because I had nowhere else to go.  The door creaked open a little.  A haggard, sixtyish year old woman, wearing a stained and holey dressing gown, peered through the crack.  She asked for the five shillings.  Some cats and dogs inside awoke and started up quite a melee.

The woman beckoned me inside.  My mother’s housekeeping was deficient but none was done here.  The squalid scene before me was worthy of a graphic horror movie and the smell of a rubbish dump.  Small furry creatures of varying sizes scurried away from my feet.  I smelt their verminous odour.  However, the cockroaches ruled the abode by sheer number.  A black and white television caught my attention.  My family couldn’t afford one of these.  I tried to see the picture playing on it but some cockroaches were holding a party on the rear side of the television’s glass screen.

I had no other option.  The trains were finished for the night.  Whilst I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink; I couldn’t camp somewhere outside.  The streets weren’t safe.  Street lighting didn’t exist.  Dangers seemed to lurk in the shadows and made everybody fearful of darkness.  Besides, the night was cold and damp.  At a bare minimum, here I had shelter.  Neither was the woman a physical threat to me.

The woman showed me where the bathroom was and to a bed.  I gave the bathroom a miss.  No way was I going to shower in it.  Slimy used water filled the bathtub (which had the shower overhead) and the wash basin.  A multitude of roaches had committed suicide in both.  I took my trousers off and laid on top of the bed then counted the minutes one by one until morning.  When the first peep of dawn came, I silently escaped out the front door before the old hag stirred.  I wasn’t staying for my cooked breakfast; I had risked my constitution enough.  I tidied myself up as best as possible in the train station’s bathroom and hoped nobody would notice my appearance at work that day.  At least, the office’s omnipresent nicotine smoke cloud would obscure yesterday’s body odour.  Never again, I vowed to listen to Mother’s advice and never I did!

About the same time, I heard the Bethania Station Master’s daughter had married and bought with her husband a home at Salisbury.  Lorraine was a fine girl.  We had worked at the Bethania Refreshment Rooms together.  I thought the young couple might give me bed and breakfast for some extra income.  They were struggling financially too.  Well, Lorraine took pity on me and I was beyond grateful.  Perhaps, a kind word from her father helped.

The couple’s house was no more than a two bedroom wooden cottage purchased from the Housing Commission, a government scheme.  Still, it was clean and pleasant.  It also contained a bathroom complete with a proper toilet.

Salisbury was fifteen kilometres from the City and was considered to be a fringe suburb.  ‘Fringe’ was an overly polite description in its case.  It was nothing like its majestic counterpart in England.  It sat on a floodplain on which surrounding industry had sprung up as munitions factories in World War Two.  The Brisbane tram terminated at it at a terminus located amongst the industrial buildings.  Beyond these through some bushland and across a swampy creek was Lorraine’s house.  A bush track wound up a steep bank and through the swamp to there.  In daylight hours with people in the vicinity, the route was safe enough for an athletic young man.  At night time, it was perilous.  The factories’ surrounds were dimly lit and the swamp was cloaked in complete darkness.  Alas, the route was the only available path.  So being surefooted, I took my chances for a few nights and encountered nobody else.

Then one night, a middle aged, heavy set man rode the tram and alighted at the terminus too.  I didn’t make eye contact with him.  Other than him, I saw nothing unusual so began to weave my way through the maze of alleys between the buildings.  At a subliminal level, I felt a presence behind me.  All my muscles tensed.  I realised the man was following me.  He caught up to me as I neared the steep bank.  He said hello in a gravelly voice.  Given my rural upbringing, I treated all strangers with suspicion.  I was polite yet apprehensive.  I had never been propositioned before and couldn’t think what he'd want from me.  I hadn’t a spare penny to give him neither did I look as though I had.  Furthermore, if he were a thief, he’d have hit me on the back of the head rather than speak to me.  I feared he was going to murder me but couldn’t fathom why.  This man could easily overpower me.  I’d be defenceless against his bulk.  I increased my step size to put distance between us and thought quickly back to my childhood escapades in the bush.  My advantages were agility plus knowledge of the track despite the darkness and of the treacherous swamp.

I ran with my hair bristling on my neck.  The man came fast after me!  I knew exactly where some saplings had been laid in the mud to provide people with a firm footing and to save their shoes on their walk across the swamp.  A spot of moonlight shone for a moment at the crossing.  I sprang and my surefooted feet landed on the makeshift sapling plank perfectly and I continued to run.  My assailant didn’t land so!  He slipped and fell into the mud and murky water.  I sprinted faster than ever before to Lorraine’s place.  Somehow, I recognised that this man was evil.  I never used the track again nor caught the tram.  I resorted to the later train and the longer route home along the main roads though slept an hour less.

I needed a driver’s licence and wheels!

[girlwithrituals]

20 NIGHT JOURNAL PROMPTS TO CLEAR YOUR MIND BEFORE BEDTIME

1. what's on my mind right now?

2. how am i feeling right now?

3. write down one word to describe my day (calm or hectic, productive or unproductive, etc.) and write a sentence about it (today was calm because i did my morning routine and that helped me stay in the present moment)

4. what am i grateful for today?

5. emotions i felt today include...

6. what did i do today to make myself proud?

7. what did i learn about myself today?

8. what is something I accomplished today, big or small, and how did it make me feel?

9. something that bothered me today was...

10. how did I handle any stress or anxiety that came up today?

11. have i done anything to make someone else happy today?

12. write one thing that made me feel loved today.

13. what do i want to take from today into tomorrow?

14. what's my word for tomorrow?

15. what would i like tomorrow to bring me?

16. if i could change one thing about my behavior today, what would it be?

17. what is a meaningful conversation I had today and why did it stand out?

18. what are my top three priorities for tomorrow?

19. what's one thing I can do to improve tomorrow based on today's experiences?

20. how do i want to feel when i wake up tomorrow morning?

[hanafubukki]

The Legend of the Prefect of NRC

Legend has it there was once a Prefect at NRC.

The Prefect appeared one day with chaos at their heels.

Not much is known about them as an individual, but they are known for their achievements.

They stopped great calamities that befell the Island of Sage.

At times, even stopped Twisted Wonderland from unraveling.

Not much is known about what happened to them.

Some say they returned from whence they came.

Some say they chose to stay.

Some say they even found romance or traveled the world.

But there is one aspect everyone agrees on.

They were cherished by all who knew them.

And they, in return, loved them just as much.

It is no wonder the Great Seven became the Great Eight in homage to the Prefect and those who lived in Ramshackle Dorm.

A statue of three ghosts, a chimera, and a hooded figure made of marble commemorates the newly established dorm at the Main Street of NRC.

Now you may wonder, what does this dorm represent?

It is based on the spirit of the Prefect of Legend, the one known to tame even the mightiest.

The Ramshackle Dorm is for those who do not belong. Those who have the potential for greatness beyond any normal means.

Now take the hand before you, for you have been chosen.

The Ramshackle Dorm welcomes you.

[outthewazoo]

You either said something really funny or he thinks you’re pathetic. It’s probably the latter though sorry.

[floq]

they are both addicted to caffeine, but in different ways

[ID in alt text]

[qweaenr]

TWISTED WONDERLAND - Book 7 1/2

[kamapon]

So what if NRC had versions of it's uniform? I refuse to believe there's only one uniform for every season!!

🌸Spring uniforn options🌸

※copics & watercolours

[violetvirus]

silly claw game :>

[alicraft336]

Twisted Wonderland Incorrect Quotes [2]

Lilia: *patting Yuu/Mc on the back* "I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you Yuu/Mc!"

Yuu/Mc: "I actually don't have parents...."

Lilia:

Yuu/Mc:

Lilia: "Your father is very proud of you!"

Yuu/Mc: *confused* "Lilia, I just told you I don't have parents-"

Lilia: "how do you feel about moving into Diasomnia with me and your brother?"

[svaints]

Pounce on you even.

[autisticrosewilson]

While we're on the topic of De-aging AU's I wanna talk about Jason and Damian if Jason was 14 again real quick.

Do you guys think that Damian looks at this version of Jason, so different from the version he knows, nothing like the person he was told Jason was, and feels uncomfortably seen?

Damian was always told that Jason died because he was reckless, because he disobeyed orders, he was fired as Robin and he got himself killed. A cautionary tale, not a threat to his position. He dismisses Jason because Bruce does, because Dick does, because sometimes even Babs and Alfred do.

That's not the kid that he's looking at now. This Jason is happy, and smart, and full of love that has not yet soured into grief. He hangs on Bruce's every word, trains until his hands bleed and his body gives out to perfect the moves Bruce teaches him. He looks at Bruce with stars in his eyes and he calls him dad.

And Damian can't help but think, that this is the perfect Robin. The perfect son. And if Jason - sweet, loving, strong, Jason - can be fired, can die and have his room locked away and his pictures torn down, can have his last memory as Robin be as A Good Soldier, how could the rest of them ever compete? What could Damian do to stand a chance?

Jason will never grow out of the shadow of Robin, like the rest of them did. As long as Bruce, and Dick, and Babs, and Alfred look at him and see a dead kid who came back wrong, he will never get to be anything else. He will not get to be looked at through who he is now without the shadow of a dead boy looming over him.

And the worst part? Jason is exactly the same person he was back then. Bitter, sure, angry, justifiably, but he is still the boy with too much love in his heart and righteous fury festering in his gut. He is exactly the same boy who threw himself in front of an explosion to save his mother.

(The lines between the mother that betrayed him and the father that disgraced him are so very blurred. Fire or blade or crowbars or fists it does not matter. It ends the same way it always does because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe, in every timeline, Jason dies and crawls out only to be killed again and again and again.)

[andi-o-geyser]

local gang of dnd players intimidate and viciously bully game show host sam reich, threatening to push his ass down the stairs like he's a 90-year-old grandma in a retirement home. more at 8

[tartppola]

NRC!!!!!!! 💥💥💥

[thedeadpoets-blog]

i could spend forever in the library

[academic-vampire]

𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 🌧️