#fao's an idiot

[faofinn]

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am’’ 

Fao had been working flat out. Surgical training was no joke, the hours were long and the shifts gruelling. He wasn’t long back from his first tour, which had been amazing, but tiring, and now he was back to the rigours of the wards in Birmingham. 

He’d not slept much that night, struggling with the changeover from night shifts to days, and he was looking forwards to getting home and to his bed. But that was a distant prospect now, he had a shift to work, even if he was falling asleep into his handover sheet. 

He had a headache brewing, and had just rested his head on the desk for a second, just to breathe, that was all. 

“Blackwood!” 

The shout startled him, sitting up quickly. He must’ve dozed off. Shit. 

A glance at his phone told him he was ten minutes late to the morning handover. Well, that was why he was being yelled at then. 

“Sorry, Sir.” He said quickly, grabbing his stuff. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

He managed to get through his meeting, though it was a struggle, and then it was straight to theatres. A mix of military and civilian patients, it certainly kept him busy, and he was shattered by the time it got to his break. He slipped out for a smoke, but it didn’t really help the headache, and he swung by the emergency department on his way back in to grab some chocolate, hoping that might help, along with the energy drink he’d shoved in his locker. 

Harrison had been on shift when Fao passed through. He went to call over to him when he saw the state of him. His frown deepened, notes forgotten, he stood, padding over to Fao.

"Wolfie?"

“Mm? Hey, Tomcat.” Fao said softly. 

"You look like shit."

“Charming as ever.”

"Are you feeling alright?" He rested a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, just a headache, you know how it is.” He murmured. “Got a bollocking for nearly missing handover this morning and I’ve only just got out of theatre.”

"Come sit down with me?" Harrison couldn't shake the worry.

“I’ve not got long.”

"Yeah, I know."

“Five minutes, whilst I eat this chocolate.” He said, caving all too easily. 

"Good." He grinned, leading the way.

He followed Harrison tiredly, dragging a hand through his hair. If his head would just stop pounding, he could cope with the tiredness. But he could barely think straight. 

"I'm sure we've got a spare treatment room."

“I’m not that bad.” He grumbled. 

"I know." He lied. "Just for some peace."

“Staff room’s fine, it’s only five minutes.”

"Nah, come on. This way."

“I don’t need a treatment room.” He protested, but didn’t have the energy to argue. 

Harrison pushed open the door, hopping up onto the bed. "How's today been, then?"

“Busy.” He said with a sigh, sitting next to Harrison. He used his teeth to open his chocolate wrapper, before offering Hars a square. 

Harrison took it gratefully. "Thanks. You look like you've not slept in a week."

“I feel like it.” He murmured, breaking off a piece for himself. “I did the overnight on call all of last week and it was so busy it’s killed me off. Feel like I’ve not been able to get enough sleep in between shifts, and now I’ve changed to days and it’s just as busy.”

"Been dizzy?"

“Occasionally.” He admitted. “But sod off, I’m just dehydrated with low blood sugar, so’s half the hospital.”

Harrison hummed. "Sure, sure. And how bad is the headache?" 

“Like someone is hammering a nail into my brain.”

"Any visual changes?"

“Stop doctoring and let me be miserable for five minutes.” He grumbled, eating another piece of chocolate. 

"I need an answer." He nudged him, reaching to steal another square. "What about feeling sick?"

“No visual changes but my dyslexia’s worse because I’m tired.” He said, resting his head on Harrison’s shoulder. “Bit of nausea, but the sugar is helping.”

Harrison wrapped an arm around him. "Any auras?"

“Mm, no.”

"Anything else you're not telling me?"

“I just can’t think straight.” He admitted. “I need a holiday, for fuck’s sake.”

"Can I do a set of obs on you?"

“No, because if they’re shit I can’t go back to work and I need to go back to work because I’ve already gotten in the shit this morning.”

"All the more reason I want to do some."

“I told my consultant five minutes for a smoke and something to eat.”

"I'm worried about you." He admitted. "I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason, I am."

“I’m fine, I’ve got a drink upstairs and I’ll sit and do some notes.”

"Please?"

“I should’ve gone to the vending machines outside theatres.” He huffed. “Fine. Make it quick.”

"You know we've got the best shit down here." He grinned, hopping off the bed. "I'll be quick. Sorry, the cuff's cold."

“I know, that’s why I came down. And it was on my way back.” He’d been hoping to bump into Harrison, admittedly, but not to be fussed over and bothered. He’d fancied five minutes to rant, that was all. “You’re not getting any more of my chocolate, though.” 

"Rude. I'll live."

He had another square, letting it melt in his mouth as Harrison fussed. His bleep hadn’t gone off yet, which was a relief, because the way it had been squealing at him all morning really hadn’t been helping things. “You better.”

"Mhmm." He hummed, watching the machine. "Can you stand up a sec for me?"

“I’m comfy.” He protested. 

"Please?"

“I know what you’re trying to do.” He complained, but stood up. His back was aching - his table hadn’t been high enough for his last case, and he was paying for it.

"Okay, you can sit." He pulled out his pen torch. "Stare at my nose, just gonna shine a light in your eyes."

Fao sat gratefully, ignoring how his head span. “No, c’mon, you said a set of obs, and I even went so far as to give you the standing BP. Enough, I need to go back to work.”

"No." Harrison was firm. "You're not. Not a chance."

“I’m tired and dehydrated, it can’t be that bad.”

"You're still not going back to work. I want you admitted."

“Leave off.” He protested. “I’ll go home, if you insist, but I don’t need admitting. It’s a headache.”

"Surely you'd feel better with some pain relief? Antiemetics? Please, it's for your own benefit."

“Chuck a couple of paracetamol at me and I’ll get Alex to take me home.”

"No." 

Fao was about to argue when his bleep went off, and he winced. “Time’s up, I need to get that.” He said, frowning at the number on the screen. 

Harrison pulled out his own phone, taking the bleep from Fao. "Yeah, I'm overruling you on that one."

“Tomcat!” He protested. “Let me call them back?”

"I said no." Harrison’s voice was uncharacteristically hard. "I'm calling them, you're gonna lie back on the bed and let me do my job."

He stepped back, deliberately out of Fao's reach, and dialled the number. Fao's observations weren't terrible, but they were enough to worry him, especially with how shit his friend looked. He didn't really care if Fao hated him for it; he couldn't, in good conscience, let him continue working when he was so obviously struggling so much. 

He huffed, but his headache was much too bad to really give too much protest. He wasn’t going after Harrison, at any rate. He shuffled his bum back on the bed, swung his legs up and kicked his shoes off, feeling better for it almost instantly, though he’d never admit it. Guilt flared, knowing he was supposed to be busy, but Harrison making decisions meant it had been taken somewhat out of his hands, which he appreciated. Leaning back against the back of the bed he let his eyes close, listening to Hars on the phone. 

"Hi, it's Dr Harrison from ED? No, you paged Blackwood, not me, that's right. Yeah, he's not coming back up, I'm admitting him." He kept his voice low, aware it wouldn't be helping Fao. "Honestly? You should be ashamed of yourself that you let him keep working. Anyone could see he wasn't well, I could tell a mile off. Go ahead, it's Harrison Cunningham, I don't care. Thanks, bye now."

“Harrison!” Fao hissed, reaching to throw a pillow at him. 

"Hey, you'll need that. It's a luxury around here." He teased, passing it back. "I'll go grab you a blanket and get you booked in, too. Then I'll send someone across and we'll get some treatment sorted, yeah?"

“You’re an ass.” 

"I know." There was a hint of pride behind his tone. 

Fao rolled his eyes, but tucked his pillow back under his head. “I should call them.”

Harrison laughed. "You sound like every drunk girl on a Saturday night. Get some rest."

“Get me a cup of tea?”

"Sir, yes, sir." He teased. "I'll be right back."

“If you’re gonna admit me you could at least get me a cup of tea. Might as well milk it.”

"Might as well make the most of it. Want me to call Alex? Sheila?"

“Don’t bother Sheila, but call Alex? You can doctor at her.”

"Alright, I'll do that while I'm getting your tea, yeah?" He said softly. "I'll send a nurse through."

“Thanks.” He said, rolling onto his front to bury his face in the pillow. 

Harrison hummed, shutting the door quietly behind him. He grabbed one of the nurses, smiling sweetly and apologising for the extra work. He then had the fun job of calling Alex, so scrolled through before pressing dial, heading to the staff room for the good tea.

Alex had been enjoying her day off, having taken the dog for a long walk that morning. Now he was napping, and she’d been watching some TV when her phone rang. She should’ve been studying, but of course she wasn’t, and she reached for her phone. 

“Harrison?” 

"I'm at work, you can't yell at me. But, I may have just admitted Fao?"

“I can definitely still yell at you. What’s happened? Is he okay?”

"He's got a migraine, don't think he's been sleeping. His obs aren't terrible, but honestly? He looks like shit. Got yelled at this morning, apparently, for falling asleep before handover. That's not like him."

“He didn’t sleep last night.” Alex agreed. “How bad is ‘not terrible’?”

"Fluids worthy but not resus?"

She sighed. “He’s such an ass. He’s been struggling for days with his sleep.”

"I'd say maybe he'd learn from this, but I know better."

“He definitely won’t. He needs to sort his mental health out again, keep an eye on him?”

"Don't we all?" He sighed. "You know I will. I'm just making him a cuppa, he's had some chocolate, but I'll get him something proper to eat."

“Thank you. Are you expecting to get him discharged in a couple of hours?”

"Depends how he behaves."

She laughed at that. “Yeah, true.”

"Are you wanting to come in?"

“If I can, yeah. I’ll kick his ass.”

"Cool, I'll let him know."

“Look after him, yeah? He’s trying to be a hard ass but he’s been really struggling.”

Harrison softened. "Of course I'll look after him. He's got me worried about him."

“Glad you’re looking out for him. I won’t be long, let him know I’m on my way.”

"I will. Drive safe."

“Always.” She murmured, and said her goodbyes before she hung up, grabbing some stuff for Fao.

When she arrived, he was on his side in the bed, though sipping the tea Harrison had brought him. He looked worse than he had done when he’d left the house that morning, but the smile he offered her as she appeared had her anger and worry evaporating like mist in the morning sun. 

“You daft shite.” She said, settling next to him and running a hand through his hair. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know.” He murmured. “Sit wit’ me properly?”

She was always a soft touch for him, and so she settled on the bed properly. Fao sat up as she did so, putting his tea down, and then laid back down again, his head in her lap. They’d already given him antiemetics, and he had fluids running, which were making him feel better, but Alex there was certainly doing the hard work. Her fingers carding through his hair, he was asleep in minutes, warm and safe.

[villruu]

managed to do most of the essay and deadline got extended to tomorrow so time to go procastinate again 👍

ive been procastinating so hard,,,,, bitch this video and essay has to be given tomorrow.... u havent even done the front page.... ouhgjhgigkhjg

[girlvinland]

That stupid little dragon from FAO Schwartz just got here and I broke down crying when I opened him. Like I feel so stupid right now but everything has been so bad lately and I don’t know why this stupid purple thing is so soft and feels here to hold part of me while I sit in the bottom of this jar I’m in that just keeps filling up with water.

Do I even deserve a soft thing like that at all

Do I need to feel ashamed that I’m an adult holding on to a stupid purple dragon

I feel like an idiot when this thing is a toy for toddlers that lights up and makes sounds but why does it feel comforting right now when I’m going through so much bullshit

[moths-in-hats]

I'm an idiot and in America for the first time so I keep seeing things and mentally going "Just like in Stranger Things" "Just like in Teen Wolf" "Just like in that one Jenny Nicholson video"

[nukaworldnerd]

My Raiders and my Minutemen. uwu

[life-is-no-sugarlicking]

Nuka-Nerds ♥

[makosgotmoxie]

Critical Role Campaign 3 Episode 19 Quote List

"So for this dramatization, Liam and Ashley will be playing the Willinghams."

"You're me??"

"You're an actor, not a CEO."

"Maybe lime juice will bring answers."

"You're not going to take it Fearne." "I'm just going to take a look. Calm down, dad." "... did she just call me dad?"

"I can't roleplay while you watch."

"I forgot I was blue until I looked down at my arms."

"All gingers are cursed."

"Don't you just Vex me, you fuck."

"Note to self, let's all become druids."

"Vax stopped aging all together."

"I've got bitchin' eyes. Cold like a glacier, blue like the sky."

"If you're going to stick something in there, it needs to be stiff."

"I'm so excited to see your next character."

"It's limes all the way down."

"This guy just watched us shove a frog in a fountain. We look like idiots."

"And a bag of ball bearings."

"You're a corpse."

"We.. went shopping with no money."

"You assist by smiling." "Come on. Look at this."

"Do you like cherub and childlike design?"

"Ahhh man I love a choking hazard."

"Guns."

"This is a mighty fine lime."

"Four splooges is more than enough, thank you."

"I cast decompose on him."

"You just see Pate’s rat hand grabbing Sashimi’s ass."

"Finger smells like poop."

"I don't want to run anymore."

"I'm not dead." "And you're not alone."

"I would murder everyone around us if anything happened to you."

"Be good with your money, kids."

"Let's fuck shit up in this haunted house."

"I went to a birthday party at FAO Schwartz as a child and we could play with any toy in the place, sure. Didn't everybody do that?"

[dannifielding]

Season 10 Sneak Peak

Here you go, then. Another one.

I expect lots of questions and asks and things, because this one is quite spoiler-y. I thought you would enjoy it and now that it’s out of my brain hopefully I can get on with writing what I’m supposed to XD

~0~0~0~

Danni stormed into the bedroom, grumbling to herself before she dropped her laptop onto the bed. How was she supposed to study if the Doctor insisted on talking at every single moment? Bill didn’t know any better, but he did. She needed quiet. How long had they been at the university now? He knew how she studied, it had never changed.

She ignored the fact that she was just angry because he’d brought in a companion with zero consideration of her or the responsibilities that he decided they needed to bear. If he hadn’t been so soft at heart then Missy wouldn’t be underground right now, alive and planning her next move. They were Time Lords, they had lifetimes to think of escape plans. She should know. She’d lost a lifetime to that monster. He didn’t understand but how could she argue? He’d taken on the oath of looking after Missy’s body for a thousand years which wasn’t something he could just get out of.

Apparently.

Not that she’d found, anyway.

Even if he could, she knew that he wouldn’t. He wanted to help Missy find the goodness inside and he wouldn’t listen to her when she told him there wasn’t anything good inside that woman. She was beyond redemption.

She sat heavily on the bed, opening her laptop with more force than necessary. And now she had to write a 4000-word essay on the drawbacks of viewing time in a linear fashion. She smiled slightly before she opened the word processor. He was a fantastic teacher, though. She could listen to him gives lectures for the next thousand years no problem at all. Even if he went over old ground, she would still enjoy it more than pretty much everything else.

She started her studies by, naturally, going on the internet. This time period did love Twitter so that was her first stop. It was usually a hellpit of arguments and death threats, but sometimes there was a good meme she could lose some time in.

Next was Facebook, where she liked a couple of posts on the group that had been created for everyone who attended the Doctor’s lectures. She turned down an invite for a night out, but promised to fill a spot at a trivia night. She liked to show her face from time to time. It was part of being a student.

Lastly were her emails. Brian still liked to drop her the occasional update of the 1950s, and all the plants that he was cultivating in Amy and Rory’s back garden. She appreciated updates from all her family and, no matter which body she was in, she made sure to give him the proper level of attention and intrigue. If he loved the plants so much then they must have been important.

Then, amongst the spam and newsletters she’d inevitably signed up to when she went online shopping, a random email appeared. With the subject of ‘FAO: Danielle Fielding’ she should have guessed it was just some more spam, but it still caught her attention enough to open it.

‘Hello, my Pet.’

She smiled softly to herself. The Doctor hated email, but who else could it be?

The door opened and the man himself peered around the door. “Ah, I thought you would be here,” he said. She looked up at him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ve just got an essay to write,” she replied a little cheekily. “My professor decided he wanted us to write a 4000-word essay for next Tuesday.”

“And some old idiot kept prattling on so you couldn’t focus?” he asked in reply, looking a little sheepish.

“Oh, you heard him too?” she asked, playing along. “I’ve asked him so many times to not do that when I’m working but he just can’t help himself.”

“He can’t. He must love the sound of his own voice,” the Doctor replied. She smiled brightly. “Your professor is always giving you homework. Maybe you should find another one who doesn’t eat up so much of your time.”

“Nah,” she dismissed. “The rest of the universe is boring. He’s the only one who can hold my attention long enough for me to actually want to do the homework he sets.”

“That’s good. Because I know, from experience, that he’s only teaching because he likes to see you smile,” the Doctor told her. “Speaking of.” He stepped into the room, revealing a large mug he’d hidden behind his back. “I thought you could do with something warm while you studied.”

“Thanks,” she replied sincerely. He walked over and placed it on the bedside table. He then leant down and placed a kiss on her hair. She turned, caught his lips for a brief kiss, but let him go. She really did want to get the essay done.

“Was 4000 words too many?” he asked as he headed for the door. The fact she’d hauled herself up in the bedroom told him rather clearly that she wanted to be left alone.

“I shouldn’t think so,” she replied. “Linear time can be quite the complicated subject when you dive in enough. I suspect you’ll have a few over the word count.”

He paused at the doorway. “Perhaps I should stop assigning so many essays,” he declared. “I’m just making more work for myself.”

“Definitely might be something to consider,” she agreed. He chuckled, knowing that he wasn’t going to stop challenging his students, then headed through the door.

Danni looked back at her computer and saw the email he sent her. “Theta?”

He darted back into the room. “Yes?”

“Did you send me an email before?” she asked. His brows furrowed.

“Why would I do that? I know where you are,” he replied, confused.

“I guess so,” she mused with a frown. Then she smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, my Pet,” he replied before disappearing. Probably going back to Bill, she was sure their tutoring session had another half an hour or so to go.

She didn’t pay it much mind, instead she turned back to the email. She believed the Doctor completely when he said it wasn’t from him, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t send it from his future to her present. The TARDIS could, on occasion, divert from one timeline to another if needed.

‘Who is this?’

It seemed the simplest of questions and she sent it without much thought of manners. A moment later it there was a reply.

‘Don’t be stupid.’

She frowned, annoyed for a moment. They obviously thought that she should know who they were, which she didn’t. Maybe she could work it out. The Doctor was the only one who called her his Pet but, while the next message could have easily been from him, she knew it wasn’t.

She checked the email address, something she should have thought of sooner. Her eyes widened slightly. The username and domain name were exactly the same.

‘knockknock.’

Four knocks.

Well, she had to admit, it was pretty on the nose and she felt rather stupid for not noticing it sooner. It didn’t last very long, though, because the anger at the thought quickly took over. She slammed the lid on her laptop shut and jumped off her bed. She stormed out of the TARDIS, straight past the Doctor and Bill who just watched her leave but didn’t follow. The look on her face must have told them that she was best left alone and she was glad at it, because she didn’t want Bill to see her shouting.

Nardole was outside the Vault door, doing whatever checks he tended to do when he was there. He glanced over his shoulder. “Danielle, I was just making sure…”

“Move,” she demanded shortly. He spun, looking slightly alarmed.

“What-What are you…” he stuttered but she pushed him out of the way, tapping away on the keypad that unlocked the doors. “You can’t go in there! She’s not ready to see anyone.”

“Don’t care,” Danni retorted. “She’s broken the rules.” She continued to type – the Doctor had really overdone the passcode – and didn’t look up as she called inside. “Get inside the glass box!” she commanded. “If you’re not in there I’m not coming in!”

“Danielle, I must insist you stop this at once,” Nardole exclaimed. “The Doctor gave me strict instructions to keep everyone out of there, including yourself. It’s for your safety.”

“Who did River tell you to listen to?” she countered.

“Well, that’s not really fair…”

“That’s not an answer.”

He sighed. “You, Danielle,” he admitted reluctantly.

“So, my orders supersede the Doctor’s. Stop contradicting me.”

“But you have to see why I must,” Nardole pressed. “She’s recovering, not recovered. If she gets ideas then it could set everything back decades!”

“She’s never going to recover,” Danni snapped as she stepped back and the Vault doors started to open. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or not to see Missy sat in the middle of the room in the containment field in the middle of the room. On one had she was very happy to see as many barriers as possible between her and Missy, but it also meant that she would be able to talk to the other Time Lady and that was never a good prospect.

Keeping her anger tight, she strode into the room. “Where did you get the internet?” she demanded. “You’re not supposed to contact the outside world at all.”

Missy held her hand up to her chest. “I don’t have access to the internet,” she promised. “Or a phone, or even a Morse code machine.”

“You are lying,” Danni snapped back, getting as close to the glass as she dared. “Where is it?”

“I promise I don’t have any such thing,” Missy replied. “You know I’m not lying.”

Danni barked out an angry laugh. “You’re not lying?” she exclaimed. “All you do is lie!” She opened the laptop, showing her the browser where her email inbox sat. “What is this, then?” she demanded. “Knock-Knock at Knock-Knock dot com. Did you really think I wouldn’t get that?”

Missy leant a little closer to see and, despite the glass walls separating them, Danni stepped back and away from her. “I can see the confusion,” Missy replied calmly. “But honestly, Danielle, that isn’t me. You can check the room if you like. I’m sure you’ve got that silly little sonic device with you.”

Danni stared at her for a moment longer, alert in case she tried something she needed to react to quickly. She did have a point, unfortunately, so after a moment to make sure she wasn’t too much of a threat, Danni tucked her laptop underneath her arm and pulled out her screwdriver. She did a quick scan of the area and found Missy was right. She lowered her arm, still holding the sonic screwdriver tightly. “There’s nothing here,” she admitted reluctantly.

“I’m glad you can see that now,” Missy replied, standing up. Danni again moved a little backwards from the glass. “I really am trying to change, Danielle. Surely you can see that?”

Danni shook her head. “You can’t change,” she retorted. “You’re never going to change. Your regeneration is poisoned.”

She actually looked hurt, which just made Danni feel a little sick. “I am trying,” she insisted again. “I know I hurt you, I know I did wrong. Please, let me show that to you.”

She stepped towards Danni and Danni shot backwards, dropping her screwdriver in her panic. “Stay back,” she cried. “Stay away from me.”

“Please, Danielle,” Missy begged. “I just want to make it up to you.”

Danni shook her head. “No, no, you’re not going to change and you’re not coming anywhere near me,” she exclaimed. She turned and quickly strode out of the Vault. “Lock it up, Nardole.”

Nardole sighed heavily, doing as she said. “I said it wasn’t a good idea,” he muttered.

“I know you did,” Danni retorted as Missy sat back down, watching the doors to the vault close in front of her. “Don’t tell the Doctor I was here.”

“But Danielle…”

“Don’t tell him!”

Nardole sighed again as she disappeared out of the basement. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he muttered. “No gratitude at all.”

~0~0~0~

Danni stopped after bursting back out into the outside world, leaning against the wall and panting heavily. Her hands were shaking, her hearts were racing. They had been here decades and she still couldn’t help but feel absolutely terrified just at the sight of Missy. She hated going down there, but she had needed to find out if Missy was trying to escape. There had been no ability to contact anyone outside the Vault, though. Missy was clean.

The thought should have calmed her, but it didn’t. She reopened the laptop yet again and replied to the email quickly.

‘Who is this?’

She watched, trying to catch her breath and calm her nerves, for what felt like eternity. She’d never been so anxious to get an email before. Then the reply appeared. There was a picture attached and embedded but, as the university infrastructure was absolutely awful, the text appeared first.

‘Did you miss me?’

‘What do you think of the beard?’

Her eyes widened, her breath caught and her knees went weak. The wall was the only thing holding her up as the image quickly revealed itself. Brown hair, styled beard, a killer grin and a ridiculous smug look.

“Koschei?”

[spamzineglasgow]

(REVIEW) Hello by Crispin Best

In this review, Josie Rogers reads the desiring pursuits, moonselves, evil plans, semantic playgrounds and conversational prowess of Crispin Best’s debut collection Hello (Partus Press, 2019).

> About halfway through Crispin Best’s Hello, an image announces itself that pivots my reading of the whole collection. The image is of an orrery, in the poem ‘poem in which i mention at the last moment an orrery’. In case you were about to Google that, as I had to: an orrery is a mechanical model that shows the motions of the earth, moon, and other planets around the sun. You could buy one on Amazon, in homage to Best’s poetic commitment to beautiful and banal commodities: to that which is plastic and reproducible but which holds meaning nonetheless, if you let it.

> The orrery in ‘poem in which i mention at the last moment an orrery’ is, I think, an artefact of the intimacy held between the space of the poet and the addressee. It’s a love poem that begins with an inverted blazon: Best invites us to ‘consider the things my body is | for example there is a part of it | which is an ankle | another part which i can only describe as | the distance between distance | and distance | a part which makes a muffled | hopeful noise and another part which is | an ankle’ (Best 2019, ‘poem in which i mention at the last moment an orrery’). The muffled hopeful noise seems to be embodied intimacy itself, an optimistic and stunted thing, and the distance between distance and distance recalled to me the psychoanalytic idea of desire as perpetual deferral — to desire is to be unsatisfied in some way, and so desire is what must always remain unsatisfiable. Poetry is the domain of feeling, and poetic feeling is so rarely without desire. Here, it is held in the sprung trap of the body. I like how Best repurposes poetic desire, stating it in honest and absurd terms: ‘and i long for a poem | that is just about | i don’t know | cucumbers’, or, ‘[i] want | to bite through | the porcelain | of a mug | while you watch’ (‘how do we feel’). The wish for uncomplicated cucumber poetry demonstrates how Best swerves the — ambivalently ecstatic and agonisingly humiliating — lyric pursuit of truthfulness: by being disarmingly, candidly bizarre. He confides his desires directly to you, the reader, too: ‘i want to tell you | that the moon | is my favourite kind | of indirect light’ (Best 2019, *that sound from the start of “circle of life”*).

> The orrery revealed how often the moon, and the sun, ‘earthlight’ and ‘windowlight’, appear in Hello. The moon in the line above offers a kind of interstitial illumination (like how poetry can illuminate through reflection, as it slips between pruned and manicured language and language that seemingly bubbles up straight from the heart/bones/head/stomach). But then later the moon becomes, quite explicitly, the moonself of the poet: ‘i am a moon and you | are a moon | i mean i am the moon and yes | you are too | i am calmer when we’re the moon if you can believe such | a thing’ (Best 2019, ‘poem in which i mention at the last moment an orrery’). At first I considered how two people could both be the moon, and then I remembered that some planets have many moons, and then I remembered that really moon is just a word we have applied to a thing to make it make sense to us. Such tiny revelations are often the punchlines of Best’s linguistic jokes and facetious non sequiturs: ‘on uranus a year lasts 84 years | [...] on uranus you die on your first birthday’ (Best 2019, ‘io’).

> The moonself suggests a metamorphic subject, made holistic by distance — the distance between two bodies, between our expectations and the devastating realities of how we execute our existence. A poem like ‘my god’ revels in this painful deficit: ‘you have no idea | of the distances i would travel | just to disappoint you | i will even wear a fashionable shoe | my god | just watch me | another? i ask | go ahead you say | and another? | no that’s too many shoes’ (Best 2019, ‘my god’). You are ambushed, simply and ridiculously, with the image of a man trying to wear three shoes; and with the equal absurdity of hoping not to disappoint the people you would do the most for. Moons wax and wane, like desires and like our capacities for presenting ourselves to the world as we want to be seen. Moons suggest both illumination and occlusion, the equivocation that we might see as the essential quiddity of the lyric voice; the i, in Best’s case. The divine feminine energy of the moon also suffuses Hello: a lunar pull (of desire, of the desire to be heard and touched) that is at once tender and powerful. One quora.com contributor suggests that moon symbolism in literature signifies an evil plan. I like that. I think Crispin Best has an evil plan, and it’s to make you laugh even while you feel sad and strange — ‘when i die | know that i died how i lived: | not wanting to die’ (Best 2019, ‘io’). That’s my favourite kind of evil plan, and my favourite kind of poetry.

> Most of all, the orrery made me think of orbiting. It made me think of spinning in space and time, surrounded by other strange celestial bodies cutting their own orbits. ‘and it’s nearly night | the same sunset | has been travelling | around the earth | for millions of years’ (Best 2019, ‘poem at the dinner table’), Best writes, and we glimpse an infinite celestial spillage that both illuminates and retreats, heralding the same ending and beginning: f(lux). (It’s pleasing that Hello’s cover resembles a dreamy, galactic fog.) He embeds the astral plane in the domestic — ‘between the boiler’s ticks’ … ‘it is good to be talked to | and also | to hear people sleep’ (ibid.). He dramatises the (extra)terrestrial pleasure of just being and knowing that there is someone nearby, just being, too. He bears a blushingly tragic longing for even the abject: ‘barack it might be enough just to find | a longer hair in my sink | once in a while’ (Best 2019, ‘fao barack obama).

> Hello is marked by wonderment at the sheer elsewhereness of things — say, that, ‘next time we are together | hundreds of people will be sleeping in submarines somewhere | why wouldn’t they’ (Best 2019, ‘in a white sweater at work for you’). The orrery models bodies interacting, but they remain parallel on their paths. ‘Hello,’ one moon in the orrery says to the other as it passes. Hello is a greeting and an introduction to the potential of intimacy. In it, Best masters a distinctive, conversational voice — not conversational in its informality, although it is often informal, but conversational in how its apostrophe manifests; i.e., how these poems are directed at or spoken to someone or something. Some poems are addressed to a singular (love interest?) you, some to a plural reader-you, some perhaps to the poem itself, and one to Barack Obama. Hello has a formal sinuousness, in that the construction of its lines and caesura demand little from the reader: they seem natural, as far as poetry can be natural. Best, like you and I, lives on the internet, and his stylistic conventions of minimal capitalisation and punctuation just look like how we tend to communicate textually now. In ‘centralia’, excessive ellipses cut a curving shape on the page and fill what would otherwise be blankness. It’s like you can see Best typing in real time (...) (...) until his next stiches materialise. As serious poetry critic Jonathan Culler has pointed out, apostrophe, occurring in poetry as it does in the presence of witnesses, often does more to dramatise or manifest an image of the self rather than an i-you relation (Culler 1977, 59). The image of Best’s moonself builds itself up in this way, and poems like ‘nature poem’ and ‘i’m not late’ read like reruns of those seemingly unimportant conversations that stick, inexplicably, in the mind; or of conversations you wish you had had, if only the paths of your orbit had tilted.

> These poems are often collages of dialogue and thoughts and images that bloom towards the construction of a social subject. It’s a lyrical and unpretentious realism, telling stories of selfhood without staid narrativisation: ‘i long to hang glide / with a thud / into the face / of that perfect cliff / the shame / of just going about / my idiot business / from day to idiot day / sticks to me / like a dark sausage’ (Best 2019, ‘but do dolphins want to swim with me’). Sometimes, Culler writes, apostrophe can endow objects with power, reifying the forces they exert on us sentient beings (Culler 1977, 61). ‘io’ is a long poem in which Best apostrophizes to many objects and phenomena: ‘o party rings | o life | o des’ree | o sonique | [...] o curly wurly wrapper | o nokia 3210 | o crepitating autumn leaf | o mars bar ice cream in september and the rain’ (Best 2019, ‘io’) and, in doing so, creates a sort of living elegy for himself comprised of a cavalcade of consumables. It reads like someone’s life flashing before their eyes, a life that bears the imprint of ‘dragostea din tea’, along with ‘brookside’, ‘modern american poetry’, and ‘goatse’ (ibid.). Maybe it’s just a shared millennial nostalgia that makes me moon over this, but I made one of my oldest friends when she showed me a dance routine to Dragostea Din Tei. The idea that poetry can assimilate this system of self-building, of nebulous and frenetic reference to the strange apparatus of our capitalism-conditioned youths, feels fresh and real. This mode of referentiality also reflects the ways in which many of us wrote ourselves and our relationships over the internet (via myspace, MSN, tumblr, etc., depending on your age and preferences), like magpies curating and sharing points of cultural reference to generate a conversation and, then, some kind of relation.

> In the period of late-late capitalism we inhabit now, critics often pathologise the ubiquity of plastic objects as a symptomatic plasticity of our times; a kind of mutability whereby such objects, and their connective tissues, become meaningless. But ‘io’ demonstrates instead how plastic objects and strangely plastic cultural phenomena stick in our lives and life-worlds. ‘io’ realises the compulsory eclecticism of our daily lives under a system of hyperactive production and consumption; of the baffling abundance of stuff we have and have experienced, and how it shapes our orbits. The kitsch aesthetic of Hello, like certain other contemporary poetry the critic Christopher Nealon writes about, performs a contemporary experience of materiality that is both ‘desubstantialised and supersaturating, subject to both lightning-swift consolidations and dispersals and to humiliating, vegetally slow decay’ (Nealon 2004, 581). Thinking about our position in plasticky 21st century capitalism in this way also speaks to the appeal of banal, communal delights in Hello: the tenderness of domesticity, the strangeness of our normal bodies, and the absurd potentialities of language (see: ‘what if v neck stood for | very neck’ (Best 2019, ‘fao barack obama’). These small, slow things provide comfort in contemporary reality, moving as it does at breakneck and exponentially increasing speed, and codified by capitalist individualism and energetic exuberance.

> Reading Hello is like scrolling through messages from a friend. Best balances the gentle existential turmoil we all seem to feel with silliness, a welcome facet of post-internet poetics. This mode both invites and resists critical reading — why does ‘fao barack obama’ feature no less than three holey carbohydrate snacks (doughnuts, bagels, pretzels)? What could this systematic signification MEAN? I think it just means that these are things we can grope for in the haze of our quotidian lives, as we orbit one another like odd little planets on the rotating mechanical arms of an orrery. We can ‘laugh at the sheer | machinery of feelings barack’ (Best 2019, ‘fao barack obama’). Hello, hello, there is solidarity in these sensations. Best deploys them like ‘a custard pie in the face | of certain death’ (ibid.).  

References

Best, Crispin. 2019. Hello (Oxford: Partus Press)

Culler, Jonathan. 1977. ‘Apostrophe’ in Diacritics 7(4), pp. 59-69

Nealon, Christopher S. ‘Camp Messianism, or, the Hopes of Poetry in Late-Late Capitalism’ in American Literature, 76(3), pp. 579-602

Hello is out now and available to purchase via Partus Press. 

~ 

Text: Josie Rogers

Published: 26/1/20

[faofinn]

18. “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

The autumn meant the start of the rugby season, as well as a new term at uni. Fao was looking forwards to it, having taken the summer to build his fitness and prep for the upcoming season. The weather had changed quickly, from the Indian summer they often had in September giving way to cold rain. 

Fao’s first match of the season was at home, which was nice, and meant Sheila and the family could come and watch. He loved having them there, even if they did fuss over every tackle.  

It had been a long, tough game in the mud and the rain, Fao playing the full 80 minutes. When he finally came off, the team victorious, he was soaked to the skin and freezing cold, though shaking more with the adrenaline. They’d finished celebrating, though there would be drinks that night for sure, and Fao paused to see his parents, grinning.

The three were bundled up in coats and scarves and hats, faces flushed and beaming. Fred called out to Fao in celebration, Finn joining in from beside him. Sheila waved him over, unable to stop being a mother hen.

He headed over, water dripping from his hair. “Hey.”

"Here, put this on, you'll get cold." She passed his coat over. "You'll feel it now you've stopped."

"You were super cool!" Finn interrupted. 

Fao waved it away. “It’s fine, I’m gonna go shower.” He murmured, turning to his brother. “Yeah? You think so? Did you enjoy it?”

"Yeah! You were so fast and then you dodged the other guy and got past him and he didn't even know what was happening!" Finn beamed. 

“And then I scored.” He said with a grin. 

"Loads!"

“Was good, eh?” Fao said. “I like it when you come to watch, makes me play harder.”

"It does?"

“Yeah, of course. I’ve gotta win for you guys.”

"And you did!"

“I did! Of course I did.”

"Can I come say hi?"

“Of course you can, c’mon.” Fao offered him his hands. 

"Don't be too long, though." Fred reminded. 

"And wear your coat, Fao, you'll catch a cold." Sheila tried again, holding it over the barrier. 

“Yeah, yeah, later.” Fao said, taking it and draping it over his arm. He helped Finn over the fence, and headed over to the team. They all adored Finn, they’d be glad to see him. They’d been thrilled when Fao told them he was watching. 

"Now, Fao! Put it on!" She called, shaking her head. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. 

“I’m gonna shower!” He shot back over his shoulder, heading across the pitch, Finn next to him. The team were happy to see Finn, laughing and grinning, and they all headed to the locker room to change and shower. 

Finn loved being included with the team, the older boys accepting him like an honorary younger brother. They all knew what he'd been through, what both of them had been through, and most of them were fiercely protective of the both of them. 

Fao had no issues leaving his brother with the rest of the team as he stripped off and showered, and whilst the locker room wasn’t the best environment for a 12 year old, the whole team weren’t about to ruin things by talking shit. As Fao got dressed, conversation turned to the night’s celebrations, where they were going to go. 

“Fao, you’re coming, right?”

“Ah, I’d love to, but with Finn and my parents here should probably head back home.”

“Nah, shut up. Finn can come with us, he can celebrate too!” 

"Can I, Fao? Please?" Finn’s face lit up. 

“I’ll have to ask mum, yeah?”

"I'll behave super well." He promised, grinning. 

Once they’d all changed and got sorted, they headed back home for a couple of hours before they planned on going out, which gave Fao and Finn time to convince Sheila to let them go. Fao wouldn’t stay for long, just the first pub, get a drink with the boys and then take Finn home. But the whole team had been egging him on to do it, promising they’d look after Finn, that there’d be no stupidity, and after a lot of begging she agreed. 

So they headed out, Sheila insisting that Fao wear his coat yet again, something about him already being cold making it worse. Fao shrugged her off, and as they walked from his flat to the pub in the rain, he draped his coat around his little brother to stop him getting cold. Finn was more important, at any rate, and it was cute to see him in the personalised jacket that had Blackwood, Captain on the back, as well as the uni logo. It was like he belonged. 

Finn loved every minute, feeling like one of the boys. Wearing Fao's jacket felt like a privilege, and he held his head high as he swaggered around. The coke he'd been bought was full sugar, too, which only added to his good mood. The boys were rowdy, and Finn quite happily joined in, celebrating along with them.

The pub was a firm favourite of theirs, they were well known and got plenty of good drinks. Fao was already on his second pint whilst Finn clutched his own pint of coke, the boys immediately treating him like one of their own, laughing and joking. Fao nudged his little brother, looking over at him. 

“Hey, Finn.”

He grinned at him. "Yeah?"

“Want a sip?” He offered.

"I'm not allowed." He shook his head, eyes wide.

“A sip is okay, if you want it. You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

"You won't tell mum?"

“I won’t. One sip is okay.”

"Go on, Finn. Give it a try!"

"Okay. Just a little one." Finn agreed. 

Fao pushed the glass towards him. “Careful, it’s heavy.”

He took it with both hands, doing his best to be careful. He took a cautious sip, quickly pulling away with a grimace. "Ew!"

Fao couldn’t help but laugh, as did the rest of the table, taking back the drink. “Not for you, eh?”

He shook his head dramatically, still pulling a face. "It's so gross!"

“It’s not that bad.”

Finn gratefully took his coke one of the lads next to him passed him, taking a big gulp. "It really is."

“Maybe you’ll like it when you’re older.” Fao told him, ruffling his hair. 

"I'm not gonna be allowedp to."

“Eh, you don’t know that.”

"I'm not allowed to with my medications."

“They might change in time, it’s okay.” Fao told him. “But you don’t have to drink to enjoy yourself.” 

"I know. I'm not right now."

“Exactly.” Fao sipped his drink now Finn wasn’t interested in it. 

Fao's teammate reached to ruffle Finn’s hair as well. "When you're old enough, you'll have to come out properly with us."

“When he’s old enough we’ll be bloody ancient.” Fao joked, clearing his throat. He definitely had a sore throat brewing, but he wasn’t about to admit it. That would just add fuel to Sheila’s fire that he should’ve worn his coat. 

"You're already ancient." Finn teased. 

“Hey!”

Mischief was clear in his grin. "It's true."

“Cheeky little git.”

Soon enough they finished their drinks, and as the rest of the team decided to head out to their next bar. Fao nudged his brother, and they said their goodbyes before they went home. Fao certainly didn’t need any more to drink, and the boys deserved a chance go be drunk and messy and rowdy. 

They headed back home in the cold, the rain having started again, and Fao made sure Finn kept his coat on. Finn needed it more than him, even though the scratch in his throat made him sure he was getting a cold. Better him to have it than Finn, a bit of rain wasn’t going to hurt him. He’d be fine. 

When they got in, Fao shook the rain from his hair, shutting the door behind him. “Mum, dad? We’re back.”

Sheila rounded the corner with a smile, though the look she gave Fao as she shook her head was less than impressed. "You didn't wear your coat, did you?"

“Didn’t want Finn to get cold.” He said, ruffling his brother’s hair. 

She folded her arms. "Go on, then. Go get warm, the pair of you."

Finn passed Fao's coat back to him, dropping his own on the floor. "Mum, guess what?"

"Mm?" She gave him a smile. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, loads!"

“Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it?” Fao said, reaching to pick Finn’s coat up off of the floor and hanging both coats up on the rack. 

"Yeah! And you don't have to worry about me going out when I'm older, mum. I'm just gonna drink coke because I don't like the beer." Finn said lightly, heading through to the living room.

Fao rolled his eyes. “Oh my god.”  

Sheila turned to Fao. "Do you want to explain?"

“I offered him a sip - if he wanted - of my Guinness so he didn’t feel too left out. He didn’t really drink anything.”

"You know what? It's better I don't know." She laughed. "Go on, go get yourself warmed up."

“Honestly Mum, it was barely a sip.” Fao defended. 

"You boys are gonna be boys. I should know better by now." She shook her head, though was far from actually mad. "Go on."

“Figured he’d want to try, we were all drinking, making him feel like one of the guys. Obviously I wasn’t going to let him actually drink. And he hated it.” He said with a smile. “We did buy him proper coke though, I am responsible for that.”

She covered her face with her hands. "You should just have just bought him the beer."

“Probably.” He said, but moved to hug her. “Thanks for trusting me to take him out.”

"You know, I trust you to take more care of him than I do yourself." She said, hugging him back.

[random-idiot-yt]

Do not try this yourself! - Discover the reason why here -> https://youtu.be/K_5QRJn2L-0 #danger #dangerous #spill #watchout #dont #donot #no #not #fail #lol #idiot #challenge #why #fao #pouring #pour #stupid #fails #test #stupidity #think #liquid #mug #cup #coffee #tea #drink #arrow #sit #seat

[satiresandstrawberries-blog]

COWS, MOO.

What makes cows so interesting?

What are they?

What are cows to you? A source of steak, milk, (theoretical) greenhouses that can set the world into economical and environmental chaos?

Let’s talk etymology first. The word cow, is the informal word for the name cattle. Cattle at first meant moveable, personal property, a variant of the word chattel, a unit of personal property. Because we are lazy human beings and we can’t bare two syllable words, we made the excuse cow meant bovine animal.

Cows were actually brought to America by the Pilgrims. That's all I can say about their origins. BUT ON THE OTHER HAND–an opposing source says that cattle came first from the first Spanish conquistadors on their way to America. So, if you like Spanish people, you can say they brought the first cows, and if you like pilgrims, you can also say they brought cows to America.  

Despite their ubiquitousness, cows are fairly complex. A regular cattle’s stomach consists of four compartments: The Rumen, Reticulum, Omasum, and the Abomasum. I hate these names.

Seeing that cows are idiots, that’s where the reticulum comes in. When they consume metal and other things of hardware–the harmful objects end up in the Reticulum–keeping the cows safe from further harm, never really learning a lesson.

The average life of a cow, is about 22-25 years, and we can actually see this by counting the number of rings on their horns-like trees, but for cows.

Cows also have an almost 360 panoramic vision, and can see all colors except red-because nobody likes red. They can also detect odors from 5 miles away, and I don’t even know how much five miles away is. And of course, they even best us humans in hearing lower and higher frequencies in sound. But aside from that, cows actually share 80% of our genes of their 22,000.

Cows actually have emotions.  These even contribute to their meat quality and milk.

There have been five emotional traits of cows.

shyness-boldness

exploration-avoidance

activity

aggressiveness

sociability

Speaking of emotions and other things we don’t need, let’s talk about sleep. A domestic cow apparently only has 4 hours of sleep, around the same estimate as a teenager who uses the excuse they have insomnia when they’re actually cultivating useless mutual relationships. And despite common myth, cows sleep lying down, and cannot be tipped over by people pushing them.

And speaking of myths, let’s talk about something cows contribute a vast amount to, global warming. Cows apparently according to “scientists” from the FAO (False Attainments Organization), are responsible for 18% of the world’s entire amount of greenhouse gases by meth-ane, wow.

Another concern for these “scientists” is their manure?

I’m done, bye.

[evinayak]

Court may ask U 2 disclose #EVERYthing from #watch & #perfume used when wife seeks #moolah !!

If your Wife files a maintenance case on you, you may be forced by the court to disclose everything from the brand of perfume you use, the brand of watch you wear, details of all movable and immovable property you have, details of your income, details of the debit & credit cards that you have etc etc !!! Try telling this to any person trying to get married and he will laugh at you as if you are in idiot. He will call you a loser, he will call you a loner, and talk to you as if you do not have manhood😞😞 !! The Same young man will later realise the truth, but it will be very late by then 😳😳

-----

////// 15.4 This Court is of the view that the format of affidavit of assets, income and expenditure provided in Form 16-A of Appendix E of the Code of Civil Procedure is not comprehensive to discover the complete income, assets and expenditure of the parties in matrimonial litigation and therefore, there is a need to formulate a comprehensive affidavit of assets, income and expenditure. Puneet Kaur v. Inderjit Singh Sawhney, 2011 (183) DLT 403

16. In Puneet Kaur v. Inderjit Singh Sawhney (supra), this Court, while dealing with Section 24 of the Hindu Marriage Act, directed both the parties to file detailed affidavits of their assets, income and expenditure. The relevant portion of the said judgment is held as under:

7. ...both the parties are directed to file their respective affidavits of assets, income and expenditure from the date of the marriage up to this date containing the following particulars:--

7.1 Personal Information (i) Educational qualifications. (ii) Professional qualifications. (iii) Present occupation. (iv) Particulars of past occupation, (v) Members of the family. (a) Dependent. (b) Independent. 7.2 Income (i) Salary, if in service. (ii) Income from business/profession, if self employed. (iii) Particulars of all earnings since marriage. (iv) Income from other sources:-- (a) Rent. (b) Interest on bank deposits and FDRs. (c) Other interest i.e. on loan, deposits, NSC, IVP, KVP, Post Office schemes, PPF etc. (d) Dividends. (e) Income from machinery, plant or furniture let on hire. (f) Gifts and Donations. (g) Profit on sale of movable/immovable assets. (h) Any other income not covered above. 7.3 Assets (i) Immovable properties:-- (a) Building in the name of self and its Fair Market Value (FMV):-- - Residential. - Commercial. - Mortgage. - Given on rent. - Others. (b) Plot/land. (c) Leasehold property. (d) Intangible property e.g. patents, trademark, design, goodwill. (e) Properties in the name of family members/HUF and their FMV. (ii) Movable properties:-- (a) Furniture and fixtures. (b) Plant and Machinery. (c) Livestock. (d) Vehicles i.e. car, scooter along with their brand and registration number. (iii) Investments:-- (a) Bank Accounts - Current or Savings. (b) Demat Accounts. (c) Cash. (d) FDRs, NSC, IVP, KVP, Post Office schemes, PPF etc. (e) Stocks, shares, debentures, bonds, units and mutual funds. (f) LIC policy. (g) Deposits with Government and Non-Government entities. (h) Loan given to friends, relatives and others. (i) Telephone, mobile phone and their numbers. (j) TV, Fridge, Air Conditioner, etc. (k) Other household appliances. (l) Computer, Laptop. (m) Other electronic gadgets including I-pad etc. (n) Gold, silver and diamond Jewellery. (o) Silver Utensils. (p) Capital in partnership firm, sole proprietorship firm. (q) Shares in the Company in which Director. (r) Undivided share in HUF property. (s) Booking of any plot, flat, membership in Co-op. Group Housing Society. (t) Other investments not covered by above items. (iv) Any other assets not covered above. 7.4 Liabilities (i) OD, CC, Term Loan from bank and other institutions. (ii) Personal/business loan (a) Secured. (b) Unsecured. (iii) Home loan. (iv) Income Tax, Wealth Tax and Property Tax. 7.5 Expenditure (i) Rent and maintenance including electricity, water and gas. (ii) Lease rental, if any asset taken on hire. (iii) Installment of any house loan, car loan, personal loan, business loan, etc. (iv) Interest to bank or others. (v) Education of children including tuition fee. (vi) Conveyance including fuel, repair and maintenance of vehicle. Also give the average distance travelled every day. (vii) Premium of LIC, Medi-claim, house and vehicle policy. (viii) Premium of ULIP, Mutual Fund. (ix) Contribution to PPF, EPF, approved superannuation fund. (x) Mobile/landline phone bills. (xi) Club subscription and usage, subscription to news papers, periodicals, magazines, etc. (xii) Internet charges/cable charges. (xiii) Household expenses including kitchen, clothing, etc. (xiv) Salary of servants, gardener, watchmen, etc. (xv) Medical/hospitalization expenses. (xvi) Legal/litigation expenses. (xvii) Expenditure on dependent family members. (xviii) Expenditure on entertainment. (xix) Expenditure on travel including outstation/foreign travel, business as well as personal. (xx) Expenditure on construction/renovation and furnishing of residence/office. (xxi) Any other expenditure not covered above. 7.6 General Information regarding Standard of Living and Lifestyle (i) Status of family members. (ii) Credit/debit cards. (iii) Expenditure on marriage including marriage of family members. (iv) Expenditure on family functions including birthday of the children. (v) Expenditure on festivals. (vi) Expenditure on extra-curricular activities. (vii) Destination of honeymoon. (viii) Frequency of travel including outstation/foreign travel, business as well as personal. (ix) Mode of travel in city/outside city. (x) Mode of outstation/foreign travel including type of class. (xi) Category of hotels used for stay, official as well as personal, including type of rooms. (xii) Category of hospitals opted for medical treatment including type of rooms. (xiii) Name of school(s) where the child or children are studying. (xiv) Brand of vehicle, mobile and wrist watch. (xv) Value of jewellery worn. (xvi) Details of residential accommodation. (xvii) Value of gifts received. (xviii) Value of gifts given at family functions. (xix) Value of donations given. (xx) Particulars of credit card/debit card, its limit and usage. (xxi) Average monthly withdrawal from bank. (xxii) Type of restaurant visited for dining out. (xxiii) Membership of clubs, societies and other associations. (xxiv) Brand of alcohol, if consumed. (xxv) Particulars of all pending as well as decided cases including civil, criminal, labour, income tax, excise, property tax, MACT, etc. with parties name.

8. Both the parties are also directed to file, along with affidavit, copies of the documents relating to their assets, income and expenditure from the date of the marriage up to this date and more particularly the following:--

(i) Relevant documents with respect to income including Salary certificate, Form 16A, Income Tax Returns, certificate from the employer regarding cost to the company, balance sheet, etc. (ii) Audited accounts, if deponent is running business and otherwise, non-audited accounts i.e. balance sheets, profit and loss account and capital account. (iii) Statement of all bank accounts. (iv) Statement of Demat accounts. (v) Passport. (vi) Credit cards. (vii) Club membership cards. (viii) Frequent Flyer cards. (ix) PAN card. (x) Applications seeking job, in case of unemployed person.

9. The affidavit and documents be filed within a period of four weeks with an advance copy to opposite parties who shall file their response within two weeks thereafter.

11. Both the parties are directed to remain present in Court on the next date of hearing along with all original documents relating to their assets, income and expenditure."

17. Format of the affidavit of assets, income and expenditure.

17.1 This Court is of the view that a comprehensive affidavit of assets, income and expenditure should be filed by the both the parties at the very threshold in all matrimonial cases to enable the Courts to determine the maintenance on the basis of true income of the parties.

17.2 The affidavit of assets, income and expenditure by the parties at the very threshold of matrimonial litigation has following advantages:-

(i) The parties will have to disclose their true income, assets and expenditure. (ii) The maintenance order can be passed expeditiously without any delay on the basis of the affidavit. (iii) Substantial judicial time would be saved. (iv) The maintenance would be fixed by the Court on the basis of true income of the parties.

17.3 The learned amici curiae agree to the formulating of the format of the affidavit of income, assets and expenditure to be filed by the parties.

17.4 This Court has formulated the draft of the assets, income and expenditure to be filed by the parties at the very threshold in all matrimonial cases which is attached hereto as Annexure A.

///////

Kusum Sharma vs Mahinder Kumar Sharma on 14 January, 2015

Author: J.R. Midha

WITH

FAO 297/1997, MAT.APP. 47/2005, MAT.APP. 64/2007, MAT.APP. 33/2010, MAT.APP. 35/2010, MAT.APP. 124/2010 MAT.APP. 36/2012 & MAT.APP. 8/2013

[faofinn]

Day 19 - Emergency Room

@mediwhumpmay

Fao loved being at home with his family. Christmas was his favourite time of year, too. He supposed that was not having much of a childhood, but he was still like a kid in the buildup, enjoying watching the lights and decorations going up. He loved the cold, too, the frosty mornings as they got closer to the end of December. 

In his final year at uni now, he was so close to qualifying he could almost taste it. That came with its own stress, trying to sort out dates for Sandhurst and planning his career. Not to mention having to deal with all the exams, the pressure, the placements. So when Christmas rolled around that year he was thrilled, already tired despite only having been at uni since September. 

Getting home was a relief, able to put aside studying and placement and everything and just focus on spending time with family for a few days. It was Finn’s birthday, too, which meant extra festivities and spending time with his little brother, which Fao adored anyway.

They’d started the tradition of going down to his big house for Christmas, which was nice. Fao could fill it with good memories again, and it meant they had all the countryside to enjoy over the holiday. Apollo even loved it, though he wasn’t allowed out of the house. It was big enough he didn’t need to, often caught chasing moths upstairs or curled up in front of the fireplace. They’d bought a couple of big trees, one for the hall and one for the living room, and Fao and Finn had had great fun decorating them together. 

Come Christmas Eve, Fao was doing some prep for Christmas Dinner, making life easier for them the next day. He had festive songs blaring, singing along as he chopped veg. He’d had a glass or two of mulled wine, and was certainly feeling festive. 

He’d set his knife down to grab another carrot, but knocked it off of with his elbow. Acting on instinct alone, he went to catch it, trying not to let it hit the floor - he didn’t want to have to wash it up. But he kept his knives sharp, and as he caught the knife the sharp blade bit into his skin and he dropped it with a clatter. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, blood welling up in the cut almost immediately, dripping on the floor surprisingly fast. He quickly ran it under the tap, swearing as it made the pain worse. He was bleeding a decent amount, and the cut looked deep. Shakily, he reached for a tea towel, wrapping it around his hand and picking up the knife. Last thing they needed was someone else getting hurt. Feeling more than just tipsy, he leaned against the counter, forcing himself to take a deep breath. 

Sheila had been pottering around the house, making sure the place was completely perfect for Christmas day, when she heard Fao's shout. For once, it wasn't Finn, but that didn't make it better. 

"Fao? What have you done?" She called, rushing through.

“I just cut myself.” He mumbled.

She sighed. "Let me see?"

He delicately peeled back the tea towel. “It’s deep.” He said. “Tried to catch a knife.”

She winced. "Oh, Fao. That's going to need stitches."

“I know.” He grumbled. “Fucking hurts.”

"Come on, I've not had a glass yet."

“‘M not sure I can move.” Fao admitted, aware the counter was basically holding him up. He was shaking, he knew, but that was the shock more than anything. 

"Alright, that's okay. Let’s sit on the floor for a mo, eh?" She gently steered him down, pulling him close. "You're okay."

He nodded. “It surprised me, is all.”

"Of course it did. It would have surprised me."

He forced a deep breath. “Yeah. Whoops.”

She had to laugh. "That's about right."

“Shouldn’t have tried to catch it. Didn’t want to wash it up.”

"You're an idiot. I love you, but all I've got is idiots in this house, the cat included."

“Sounds about right. And now I’ve gotta sit in A&E all evening on fucking Christmas Eve.” 

"Hopefully we won't be there forever."

The shakiness was starting to subside a little, replaced by pain. “Help me up? Sooner we go sooner we get home.”

"Take another minute?"

“Mm.”

"Just so you don't fall on me."

“It’s jus’ the shock, I feel okay.”

"I know, I know."

He sighed. “Sorry.”

"Don't be. It was either gonna be you or Finn."

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”

"The joys of having kids."

Fao managed a laugh, and then the pair of them got up off the floor. He was pleasantly surprised he didn’t pass out when he stood, but felt relatively okay, and quickly swapped the used tea towel for a clean one. They’d probably be waiting a while. 

He leaned on Sheila on the way to the car, and again from the car to A&E. Once they were checked in and sat, he rested his head against her, feeling tired and miserable.

"You're gonna be okay." She murmured, holding him close. "We'll be home before Christmas morning."

“Hope so. It hurts.” He said softly, glad of the comfort.

"Want me to go see if you can have anything?"

“Mm. I don’t know, they’ll probably just want me to wait.”

"Are you sure?"

“I just want to go home.” 

"I know."

He sighed, silent for a moment. “Mum?”

"What's wrong?"

“Love you. Sorry you always end up in A&E waiting rooms wit’ me.”

She hummed. "As long as you're still here, I don’t care where we are."

“Feels like I spend my life in A&E sometimes. At least this makes a difference from London, change of scenery an’ all.”

She had to laugh at that. "Oh, I guess that's true."

“Never a dull moment.”

"With you three? Not a chance."

[faofinn]

Day 8 - Broken Bones (alt prompt 4)

Part 1 | Part 2

@mediwhumpmay

The problem with telling someone not to do something, is that the phrase makes it so much more enticing to do just that. And that ended up being precisely what Fred's attempts to keep Finn from the face of business ended up doing. He let Finn treat, let him run what he could in the basement, but then Fao and Hars returned. With Fao running surgical, Finn ended up shoved out of the loop, Fao's organisation and opinions taking the lead. 

So, Finn had decided to take matters into his own hands, swiping one of the letters from his dad's desk. It gave the details of a new client, a simple job with an easy payout. He borrowed some of the men on their payroll, and the job was done. He gave them his number and told them to contact him if they needed anything. The rest was history. 

Finn continued to gain clients, by both means, and continued to work behind his father. There was always plenty of work, and he soon had more than enough people working for him, including Harrison and Steve.

Finn did his best to avoid places he knew his dad worked, and it worked, for a few years. But suddenly things changed, the meet-up was tipped off, their client too suspicious to meet on Finn’s terms. He wasn’t impressed, but he needed this one, and went with it, after adjusting his fee, of course.

He'd gone along for the ride, checking up on his assets to make sure they were still useful to him. It helped prove his strength to the buyer too, so he didn’t mind. He told Fao and the others he was busy with Jess, and got Harrison on standby, just in case; the other man was always useful to have around. 

The meet had gone well, even after the drama, and Finn had been happy with his men. But, of course, things always seemed to change when they were going right. Tithe guy he'd assumed to be the mole had appeared, somehow having gained intel from somewhere. 

Finn flipped, anger not usually seen rising to the surface. His gun was drawn, and threats made, ties and allegiances severed. 

Finn had been doing his stuff on the side for long enough now that Fao knew he was doing something, he just didn’t know what that something was. But the money was obvious enough, as was Finn’s lies and secrecy. Although Fao knew Finn was lying to him, that didn’t mean the lie wasn’t good enough. He had no idea what his little brother was doing. He just knew that he’d picked up the pieces enough times to know what he was doing was dangerous.

He was definitely suspicious when Finn made plans with Jess that evening, especially as work with Fred was becoming more and more charged with a rumoured mole amongst them. Not only that, but Hars was suspiciously quiet, hadn’t replied to any of Fao’s texts and hadn’t been around all day. That was another huge red flag, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

He was somewhat relieved to be called out by Fred, to give him something to do rather than worrying about the state his brother was going to come home in. They were chasing this mole, having got some very good intel. 

It was a rough job, quickly getting messy and more complicated than they’d initially intended. Fao was leading men and trying to keep things together, guns being fired and punches being thrown. 

Finn heard the second lot of gunfire, eyes quickly darting over his team. He wasn’t missing anyone, but there were too many shots for it to be who he’d left. Frustrated it was going to be a later end to it all, he ordered his team back, leading the way. 

Out of everyone he'd expected, he hadn't expected to see his brother amongst the chaos. He swore under his breath. Obviously they'd found their own info on the mole, and he'd clearly not been very good at it. Finn had more than half a mind to leave him to it; Fao was more than capable of dealing with him. But, unfortunately, he was hit with the sobering truth: if he’d spilled Fred’s name so easily, Finn’s wouldn't be far behind. Which meant Finn needed to get to him first, and get him out of Fao's reach. 

He rummaged through the bag he carried, finding the flashbang. He signalled his team to watch out, and threw it, covering his own face.

The flashbang took Fao and his men by surprise, as well as the men they were fighting. Obviously it sent everyone scattering, blinded and disoriented momentarily. Fights broke out, of course, as they always did, Fao coming in with his own counter measures, his gun drawn. He shouted for his men, making sure people were organised. The flashbang hadn’t been theirs, but their rivals seemed just as surprised, and it set Fao on edge. Someone else was here. 

As the smoke cleared and the dust settled, Fao’s eyes adjusted to the gloom again and there, with unfamiliar men around him and their target unconscious in his grip, was Finn. There was blood running down his face from a broken nose, and as he reached up to cuff it away he made eye contact with his brother. 

There was a darkness in Finn’s eyes that Fao didn’t recognise. A coldness to his face that he’d never, ever seen before. Fao’s grip tightened on his gun, though he had no intention of firing it. 

“Finn!” He shouted, his voice rough. 

His brother didn’t react, didn’t even acknowledge that he’d seen him, before he turned tail and dragged the target away, flanked by his men. 

Fao rushed forwards. There was no way he was letting him get away. Not with such an important person. But it was no good. The men stopped him, he was outnumbered and outgunned, and he was forced back after taking a couple of them out with the butt of his pistol. Chest heaving, he spat bloody saliva from a split lip in disgust, frustrated and beyond confused. 

For fucks sake. Finn hadn't stopped swearing on the way back, beyond pissed he'd been seen by Fao. Not just pissed, there was a worry curling in his stomach, a worry Fao would rat him out. That, and he was pretty sure he'd done his wrist in. 

It was already twice the size and he couldn’t make a fist. The pain was there too, the adrenaline had disappeared pretty sharpish after getting in the van. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't making him dizzy, or if he promised he wasn’t going to be sick. He texted Hars too, a heads up he'd need to be seen, along with one of his guys with a definite concussion, and another with a bullet graze. They’d be fine, he was just useless with his one hand.

Empty handed, Fao and his men bolted too. They weren’t sticking around for the fallout. Whilst the men went back in the vans, Fao’s own car offered him some fucking quiet that he needed, and he quickly called Harrison, trying to get some information before he had to face Fred at home. He listened as it rang, impatiently lighting a cigarette and breaking his own rule of not smoking in the car. 

Harrison answered, waiting for Finn. He had a few minutes to kill and appearances to uphold. "Fao, you alright? "

“No, I’m not actually. What the fuck is going on, why have I just seen Finn out in the field throwing fucking flashbangs and taking my target?” He asked, already angry. 

Fuck. "Finn? In the field? Have you hit your head, Fao? What the fuck are you on about?"

“Yes, Finn in the field. Are you fucking deaf?” Fao snapped. “I know what I saw, and I know you work with him.”

"Finn’s busy with Jess. I think you're going senile, mate."

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice was hard. “I’ve got to go back to Fred now and tell him I couldn’t do my job, and I know you’ve got something to do with it. What gives? What’s going on?”

"So you’ve missed your target and you're trying to blame it on me?" Harrison scoffed. "Don't be an arse."

“Finn was there, I saw him and he saw me. If Finn was there, you were there. So can you please tell me why the fuck I’m being undermined by my own family?!”

"Fao, mate. I'm at home. I've not left the house. Video call me, I'm not lying, I've not lied to you."

“I’m driving.” Fao snapped. “I know you’ve lied and you’re continuing to lie. Why are you lying to me? What the fuck is going on with your stupid little side business, trying to get me fucking killed?”

"Then pull over and talk to me properly." He spat. "There, look. I've shared my location. Even sent you a photo. I haven't lied once to you on this call, and I'd stake Tai's life on it."

The angrier Fao got, the faster he drove. His speedometer was nudging over 100 mph down the motorway now, and his jaw tensed. He didn’t show down. “Why was Finn in the field?” He asked. “I’ve got to go back to Fred and explain this to him, and I’m not going to be able to protect Finn. What. Is. Going. On?”

"I don't know what you think you saw, but Finn was with Jess. I don’t really want to know what the pair of them have been up to." He managed a laugh. "Just tell Fred your target wasn't there. He'll turn up again and you can get him there. You know, when you're not seeing Finn everywhere."

“I know what I saw, Harrison!”

"Alright, alright. Just maybe you need a day or two off, get Steve to do you a sick note, yeah?"

“Don’t start. I’ll ask you once more. What was Finn doing in the field and why is he working against me? I know you’re working with him. You always are.”

"As if your brother would be working against you." That did make Harrison laugh. "Do you hear how stupid you sound? Finn thinks the sun shines out of your arse, and we all know that's not true. Finn and I have worked by each other for years, you know that. He helps out with the stuff behind the scenes for Sanctuary and the caf. Fred doesn't like him in the field, so he doesn't tend to go out much at all."

“Why are you lying to me?” He asked, exasperated. 110 mph, now. “I swear to fucking god I saw Finn tonight and I just need to know what the fuck is going on so I don’t shoot him in the head next time I’m in the fucking field.”

"Nothing I've said has been a lie. You're getting more paranoid, Fao. What's brought all this on? Do you, like, need someone to talk to?"

“Harrison.” Fao growled. 115 mph. “Tell Finn if he’s got the mole that he’s much more dangerous than we originally thought.”

"Who's more dangerous? Finn?" Harrison asked. "You're not making sense, mate."

“I can’t fucking trust you, can I? Thought as much.”

He had to admit that stung. "Fao, it’s me. Of course you can."

“Yeah, right.”

"You know what? Fuck you too, then. If you’re going to call me out of the fucking blue and be a cunt, then don't bother. You'll just call me a liar and a piece of shit regardless. Don't crash the car, I won’t be there to pick the pieces up again."

“Well, if the shoe fits, eh?” 

"I've not fucking lied to you once. But whatever. I'm done. Oh, might as well tell you now, we won’t be over for a takeaway on Saturday. Something's just come up."

Fao scoffed. “Shame.”

"Anything else to yell at me for?" He asked, sickly sweet. "Go ahead, I've got nothing better to do." 

The irony of his sentence was lost on him, the crunch of tyres on gravel meaning Finn was finally home. Jess passed him in the hallway, heading out to meet them.

Fao had been about to answer Harrison, but his witty remark died on his tongue, hearing the slamming of doors in the background of Harrison’s call. A voice; distinctly Jess’, calling a name. Finn. There was more fuss, muffled but very much there, and a groan that could only be Finn’s. Fao’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip and he flicked ash from his trousers. It hurt, knowing Harrison had withheld information. 

“Say hi to Finn for me, Hars. And tell him if he’s not careful showing up on my jobs, he’s going to get shot. Remind him I rarely miss.”

"Yeah, yeah, uh, I've gotta go." He said, distracted by the fuss and apparently forgetting he was on the phone with Fao. And that he'd been mad at him. "Bye."

The line went dead, and Fao swore, thumping the steering wheel. He was just approaching his exit, the road deserted, and he’d yet to slow down. 

He didn’t miss the flash of the speed camera as he drove past, and it was just the icing on the cake. Fred was going to be pissed when that ticket showed up in the post. Stupid mistake. He made it home, and then it was straight to Fred’s office without time to even speak to Ely, who had been lingering by the door looking pale as ever. 

Fao was soon the least of Harrison’s worries, Finn taking priority. He'd stumbled over the threshold, the adrenaline having almost evaporated as he stepped inside. The dizziness had hit him, more than he'd expected, and he'd naturally reached for Jess. Of course, it had been with his bad wrist, and the wave of pain was enough to send him to the floor. 

While it didn't completely knock him out, it sent the world spinning, everyone's voice muffled in his ears.

It took a few minutes, pressed against Jess' side, but slowly and surely, things returned to normal. Asde, of course, from the pain in his wrist. He finally answered Harrison, or at least tried to before he interrupted. 

"It's just dislocated, right? You can just ket and manipulate, yeah? Just that?"

Harrison gently took Finn’s wirst in his fingers, and hissed quietly. "Shit, Finn. I'm not sure it's going to be as simple as that."

"Oh. More sedation?"

He shook his head, reaching for Finn’s other hand. "Here, feel this. It's fucked, mate. You've broken it."

"Oh."

"Let me check here,too." He murmured, skimming down his arm. "Ah, I think you've got a break here too, just on the ulnar. I can feel it under my fingers, Finn. You’re gonna need casting, minimum."

[faofinn]

DAY 3: muzzled

@febuwhump

It was a running joke amongst the pack and sanctuary staff that Fao was the litmus test for new things in the pens. If he could find something to injure himself on, he would. They’d given the main area a revamp, thrown in a whole load more enrichment, and Fao had been keen to spend some time enjoying it. He had some annual leave, it was a lovely frosty week, why not spend time shifted without a care in the world? 

He’d not been out in the main sanctuary space for a while, either, and it would be good for him to be around, so visitors could see him. Many were repeat visitors and always wanted to see their favourite pack members. 

He’d spent the morning sniffing around,chasing the scents in the frost and searching out hidden treats, which was always fun. After a nap in the pale winter sunshine, he’d chosen to check out the new den they’d built for the pack. It was a large wooden box, full of straw to keep it warm, and offered shelter from the elements. It was surrounded by logs and things, and Fao hopped up onto the roof of it from a log, keen to see the area from a different viewpoint.

But the frost and ice made it slippy, and he skidded as he jumped on. His back paw caught on an exposed nail and he yelped as he felt the metal bite into the flesh. It startled him to the point he whipped round to inspect the paw, overbalanced, and fell off of the den onto the frozen earth below. He scrambled to his feet, but his paw was throbbing, and he could smell the iron tang of blood already. Shit. 

Despite the cold weather, there were a few members of the public around, keen to see the wolves. They often came in the cold, knowing many of the wolves preferred it. They’d been watching Fao, enjoying seeing the dark wolf for the first time in a while. They’d seen him fall, too, and noticed the blood on the frozen grass. Obviously there was nobody in the enclosure, but there were staff around, and one concerned visitor went in search of one of the roaming staff, worried for the wolf who clearly needed some medical attention. 

They found Theo on his way out of the staff area, heading to check on a delivery that had arrived. 

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you. One of the wolves - Raven, I think? - big black one. It looks like he’s hurt himself, there’s blood near him and he won’t put one paw down.”

Damn it, Fao. Theo thought, sighing. “Alright, thanks for bringing it to our attention. I’ll go and speak to our veterinary team.” He said, reaching for his radio as the woman scurried off. 

“Steve? It’s Theo. I’ve gotten a report that one of the wolves is hurt, potentially Raven. Gonna go check it out now.”

"Of course it's him. I'll send Hars across with the kit."

“Alright. I’ll meet him there, I’m going to head into the pen and see what I can do.” 

"Just be careful."

“Of course. I’ve got some food on me, that might keep him a bit settled.” Theo said, and headed into the enclosure. It wasn’t hard to find where Fao was, the scent of blood strong in the cold morning. The dark wolf had flopped onto his side, licking at his foot to try and stop the bleeding. Theo approached carefully, aware he was in pain. “Hey. Look what you’ve gone and done, made a fuss. Hars is coming, just stay put for me.” 

Fao lifted his head, stopping licking for a moment. His ears flicked back and forth and he sniffed the air. Theo wasn’t so bad, he wasn’t going to hurt him, surely. He let him get closer, and delicately took the treat he offered him. 

Harrison wasn't long, heard way before he was seen, cursing the slippy ground. He dropped his bag by Theo, eyeing Fao up. "What's he done?"

“Looks like he’s just split the paw pad, but he won’t let me get anywhere near it.” He’d already snapped at Theo twice, a growl rumbling in his throat. 

"Really, Fao?" Hars shook his head. "Think we'll be able to get him to the clinic? Or are we going to have to sed him?"

“I don’t know. We’ve got a lot of people watching us.” He murmured. “Busy day today, apparently.”

"So we'll have to do it by the book." Harrison huffed. "I already can't feel my fucking hands. You really had to do it today, Fao?"

Fao whined, stretching out to nudge at Theo. It wasn’t his fault it had been slippy. 

"Is it just your paw? You're not hurt anywhere else?"

He was sore where he’d fallen, but nothing felt overly bad, except for his throbbing paw. He was aware of the people watching, unable to do much, but his tail wagged hesitantly, trying to convey to Hars that that was the only thing wrong. 

"Alright, okay. Are you gonna be okay if we give you something to take the edge off? Make you a little sleepy?"

Panting, he whined. He didn’t want it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d have a choice. There were people watching all of them. 

"Just don't bite me, will you?" He murmured, fumbling through his drug pouch. 

He whined again, struggling to sit up. He didn’t want to do this, he was cold and he wanted to sleep. 

"Relax, just until we get you inside."

Theo reached out for him, trying to soothe him. “That’s it, settle. Won’t be long.” 

Fao begrudgingly settled back down, still panting anxiously as Hars dug through his supplies. 

"I'll be gentle, yeah? Just a sharp scratch when I've got it." He muttered, struggling to draw up what he needed. 

Fao grumbled, not happy with it all. He didn’t want the drugs, not at all. 

"Don't be like that. It's gonna be okay."

Fao huffed, watching Harrison carefully out of the corner of his eye. His fur was keeping him warm, thankfully, but he just wanted to be left alone. 

"Right. C'mon then, let's get this over with, and we can get you inside."

Fao wasn’t sure why it was getting to him this time, maybe it was the cold making him feel the wolf more. But the pain and the blood were making him feel like shit, and as Harrison went to find a vein, he snapped, growling and lunging for him.

Harrison jerked back, Fao’s teeth sharp against his skin. Drugs forgotten, he swore, moving to pin Fao to the ground.

"Theo, little help?"

“Shit.” Theo swore. “Yup, on it. Are you hurt, did he get you?” He asked, taking over from Harrison to hold Fao down. 

Blood dripped down his arm and he wiped it against his trousers. "It's not too deep. Fuck, we've lost the sed too. I'm gonna have to muzzle him."

“Shit, do you not have any more?”

"They were delayed last week, due in today. Didn't expect to need it." He muttered, grabbing the muzzle as he tried to settle his own wolf. "Sorry, sorry. Let's get this on."

Fao growled again, struggling against Theo’s grip. “I know, I know. It’s alright, just settle.” He tried to soothe. “We’re going to help, promise.” 

Harrison swiftly clipped the muzzle on, slipping a lead around his neck too. "Ready Theo?"

“You want to lift him?”

Fao hated the muzzle. Though he couldn’t snap any more, a growl still rumbled in his throat. 

"Just want to step back a second, let him decompress." He murmured. "Hopefully, at least."

He nodded. “Yeah, good shout.” On Harrison’s nod, he let go, edging back a little to give Fao some breathing room. 

It worked somewhat, Fao’s growl dying off. Without hands all over him he could ground himself a little, sprawled out on the frozen grass. His paw still throbbed, and he twisted to nose at it, though he couldn’t lick it anymore. 

With Fao slightly more settled, Harrison gave himself a moment to check his arm. It probably wouldn't need stitches, but it was deep enough to be a pain, and it was starting to sting. Annoyingly enough, it was still bleeding, so Harrison grabbed a spare bandage, cursing as he wrapped it.

Theo looked over at Harrison. “Need a hand with that?”

He shook his head; he was nothing if not stubborn. "I'm good."

“Are the seds completely fucked?” He asked after a moment. 

Harrison sighed, nodding. "Yup." 

“Do you think he’ll let us carry him?”

"Doubt it." 

“How are we going to get him to the clinic?”

"Cry?"

Theo laughed roughly. “What about some pain relief or something?”

"Doubt he'd let us do that too." He shook his head. "He should be able to manage on three legs, so providing you're not going to be an absolute arsehole, we can just walk him in."

“Alright. Get him up, then?”

"Yeah. C'mon, let's go." He gave a gentle tug on the leash.

Fao whined. It hurt, he didn’t want to get up. 

"Fao, c’mon. Please?"

He rolled onto his front, but didn’t make much more of an effort to move. Didn’t he understand that it hurt? His ears flicked back and forth, unsettled. 

"Don't fucking bite me again then." He grumbled, bending down. "I'll carry you, but you owe me."

Fao whined as Harrison picked him up, but didn’t resist. He couldn’t bite him, not with the muzzle tight around his nose and jaw. 

Harrison stumbled slightly, adjusting to carrying Fao's weight. "Can you grab the bags theo?"

“Yeah, of course.” Theo said, grabbing them up. “I’ll come and have a look later to see what he cut himself on.”

"Did he come off something? We checked the new den, there was nothing sharp in it."

“Uh, they didn’t say. We can check the security footage later.”

"Yeah, he'll have been doing something stupid, no doubt. He is Finn’s brother, after all."

“Exactly. He’s the one that always finds stuff that needs fixing.”

Thankfully the clinic wasn’t too far, and they could get him settled inside and away from prying eyes. They didn’t have to be as careful, now. 

Harrison got Fao settled in the pen, leaving the muzzle on. He didn’t fancy another bite. With a grumble, he headed to find Steve, and some more sedation.