#honest to god i made around 30 photos and only the 2 survived

[viperra1]

today i had no power in my building so i went ransacking through all my art supplies and found my stash of sculpting clay. here's my boy!!!!!!!

this photo is cringe af but i really want to show my boy with his 8 CHA ahh expression (this was still a wip)

[andimthedad]

Road Trip: Eastward Day 4: Rocks, Rushmore, Badlands, Dignity, and more

This summer, the kids and I embarked on a 10,000-mile cross-country road trip from Washington to Maine and back. Along the way, we got a brief taste of America through landmarks and sights that represent our nation, for better or worse.

Read notes from every day of the trip:

Eastward: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

Westward: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12.

And various posts from the FAQ.

--

Ken's Minerals & Trading Post, Custer, South Dakota

If you collect rock specimens, shops like Ken’s are irresistible. We hadn’t planned on stopping here, but the massive piles of rose quartz outside caught our attention, especially at a dollar a pound. Inside was a huge variety of specimens, fossils, and locally-made jewelry.

For example, here are a couple of selenite specimens we bought: first, as a sheet; second, as desert roses.

An older man was staffing the counter, knowledgeable about the rocks in the store and around the area. I asked if he was Ken. He chuckled. “No,” he said. “Ken has been gone for a long time. His sons run the store now. I just work here.” And he told us the store’s origin story.

Back in 1926, Ken and his wife were in facing some tough times financially, so the wife set up a little stand at their house to sell vegetables. With all the natural attractions in the area, a number of tourists stopped by. But instead of buying vegetables, the tourists wanted to buy the rocks that the couple had for lawn decor.  So Ken and his wife followed the money: instead of selling vegetables, they sold rocks.  And thus Ken’s Minerals & Trading Post was born.

We probably bought too many rocks.  But, it’s a really nice rock shop.

--

Mount Rushmore, Keystone, South Dakota

Mount Rushmore is pretty straightforward: the faces of four major American presidents carved into the side of a mountain. Despite their grand 60-foot-tall visages, they kind of look bored instead of thoughtful.

The four presidents were chosen by the artist, Gutzon Borglum, to represent four stages of American history: George Washington for the birth of America; Thomas Jefferson for its growth; Theodore Roosevelt for its development; and Abraham Lincoln for the preservation of the country. Sculpting began in 1927 and was completed in 1941.

Allegedly, Mount Rushmore was named after a lawyer for a mining company, Charles Edward Rushmore, who spent time in the area with mining prospectors. He asked the prospectors the name of the mountain, and they said it had no name, so they named it after him. Here is how it looked in the late 1800s:

Photo from the National Park Service.

It’s an interesting memorial, but it’s hard to imagine going often.

--

Wall Drug, Wall, South Dakota

This is one of those self-made landmarks: a huge, sprawling maze of rooms to buy all kinds of souvenirs and other stuff. It’s like a strangely-designed mall, except all the stores are owned by Wall Drug. You can also eat there. And you know this before arriving because Wall Drug has a zillion billboards along the highway for hundreds of miles in advance, advertising water and coffee and food and whatnots. They’ll probably be the first landmark to have billboards in space, if they don’t already.

Wall Drug started in 1931 by Ted Hustead, a Catholic pharmacist who wanted to work in a town where he could attend mass. As Hustead described it, business was terrible for the first few years, but then his wife Dorothy had the bright idea to offer free ice water to tourists driving past Wall on their way to other tourist sites. Immediately their business saw an upswing. 

Today the ice water is still free and the coffee is still 5¢. Still, we didn’t buy anything, or eat anything, or drink anything — we were already well hydrated. But we did wander around boggling at all the trinkets until we found bathrooms. I doubt anyone sells a shirt that says, “I went to Wall Drug and all I did was pee.”

--

Badlands National Park, South Dakota

Not far from Wall is the entrance to the Badlands National Park: nearly 250,000 acres of remarkably striking landscapes and natural beauty. We didn’t have much time, but we did drive the 30-mile Badlands Loop Road (Highway 240) to see the northern part of the park.

“I really wonder what the first humans thought when they saw this,” wondered Luke, age 14, in amazement.

“It’s almost like some kind of ancient war zone,” I said, “if the ancients had nuclear weapons.”

“If I didn’t know about modern science and religion,” agreed Luke, “I might wonder if the gods had a battle here.”

“Who won?” I asked. “Who lost?”

--

Prairie Homestead, Philip, South Dakota

You can’t exit northeast out of the Badlands without passing by the Prairie Homestead. It is a century-old relic of a pioneer family from 1909. Dug into the side of a hill and supported with a wood frame, the house’s walls are dirt bricks and its roof is covered in thick sod. 

“Can you imagine trekking out here from the East Coast, digging a house out of the ground, and living in it all alone for a long time?” I asked as we stood inside the sod house, looking at the old walls papered with old newsprint.

Beth, age 11, shook her head. “It’s amazing the human race has survived.”

I thought the admission price was steep, but it is a unique artifact of history. Unusually, there are white prarie dogs everywhere.

--

Dignity Statue, Chamberlain, South Dakota

At 50 feet tall, this statue of a peaceful, thoughtful Native American woman is impressive, especially since you can walk right up to it and sit at its feet (or on its feet, if you choose; they're big enough).

The artist, Dale Lamphere, said,

“Dignity represents the courage, perseverance and wisdom of the Lakota and Dakota culture in South Dakota. My hope is that the sculpture might serve as a symbol of respect and promise for the future.”

Dignity can be found at the highway rest area in Chamberlain, South Dakota — a sentence that would not make sense in any other context. But she really is striking. The reflective blue tiles in her shawl turn and twinkle in the wind.  I’ve read that there are lights on the tiles at night, but we were there during a sunny day.

--

World’s Only Corn Palace, Mitchell, South Dakota

Before the trip, I was amazed at the number of people who insisted we had to visit the World’s Only Corn Palace.

Dating back to 1892, the Corn Palace features enormous, mostly monochromatic brownish murals made entirely of corn cobs, using a dozen different varieties of corn to achieve variation in tone and color. They slice the cobs in half lengthwise, then nail them to the wall, updating the murals annually based on designs by local artists. They claim that it “is known around the world as a folk-art wonder on the prairie of South Dakota.”

There are several murals on the exterior of the building.  The building is also a civic center with a large auditorium and a basketball court, so there are plenty more murals around the perimeter of the staging area inside.  Apparently, USA Today named the Corn Palace one of the top 10 places in America for high school basketball, a factoid which baller Luke, age 14, has trouble believing. "This is just weird," he remarked, but he still tried on a corn cob hat for sale.

On the day we arrived, it appeared the front murals were in the process of being taken down.  And with no impending events, the basketball court was turned into a souvenir shop.

--

Spirit Lake, Iowa

We drove out of the east side of South Dakota and briefly into Minnesota, then dipped south across the state line to Iowa for the night.

I’ll be honest: this stop was primarily a convenient way to check another state off the list. We did not see any actual sights there. Sorry, Iowa.

—

Unless noted otherwise, all photos are taken by the kids and I, and are shared under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license.

[apocryphalfemme]

Veritas Revelata

A One-Shot for Pharmercy Week 2018.

You thought I had an AO3?  You guessed wrong darling.  So until I can post this there, enjoy my little contribution to Day Seven of Pharmercy week!  Read on below the cut.  Enjoy!  (I’d love any helpful feedback.)

“Instead, she opts to focus on the photo she has taped to the inside edge of her visor.  It’s a faded Polaroid of herself as a small smiling child, embraced by a much younger iteration of a particular Swiss Doctor.  The beaming smile on the young woman’s face brings warmth to Fareeha’s soul.  It’ll be easier to die remembering simpler times.  For some reason, as she closes her eyes, she thinks it’s appropriate her last thoughts should be of Dr. Angela Ziegler.”

Or

A brush with death forces Fareeha to realize just how important Angela is to her.

Her retrograde thrusters have failed.  She hurtles through the air far too quickly, wholly unable to slow down.  In front of her, the grotesque bulk of the gyrating Omnic tears across the skies of Siberia, moving to fly in the direction of St. Petersburg.  At the ludicrous speed at which it’s going, it’ll reach the city in just over 10 minutes.  Heaven knows what it’ll do when it gets there.  And she’s the only person left in the air, her strike team all either stuck on the ground, or knocked out of the sky.  Admittedly, the situation seems hopeless.  Impossible, even.  But when has Fareeha Amari ever let the impossible get in the way of getting the job done?  She’s damn well not going to let it stop her today.  

Violently, she twists in midair, and lets loose the main thrusters with everything she has left.  Screaming through open sky, bits of her damaged flight suit begin to peel off and fall to the Earth.  Her HUD flashes with a myriad of colorful warnings as she slams through the sound barrier and keeps on accelerating.  The poor Raptora was never meant to go this fast.  Nevertheless, she is rapidly catching up with the Omnic monstrosity, starting to gain on it as she angles through the troposphere.  Her HUD gives one final screeching protest before visuals die as she hits terminal velocity.  Doesn’t matter.  She doesn’t need visual pathing anymore anyways.  She’s on a direct collision course with the Omnic’s computational core now.  The crash is not going to be pleasant though.  She makes an effort not think about it as she gets closer.  Seemingly in spite of that effort, the Raptora system cheerfully chirps in her ear as she nears her enemy.

“Warning.  You are about to suffer terminal impact in 5 seconds.  Alter your course of action.”

“Yes, thank you, I had noticed,” Fareeha groans.

“In 4 seconds.”

She should do something about the user interface if she survives this.

“In 3 seconds.”

At the very least, she should make it less snarky.

“In 2 seconds.”

Maybe teach it a few puns?

“In 1 second.”

Perhaps Angela would help her with the reprogramming.

“Impact.”

The Omnic moves.  It’s only a few feet, but the damn thing drops in the sky and what should have been a direct collision becomes a desperate skitter across the machine’s surface.  Emergency air brakes deploy and are promptly snapped off by both speed and friction.  A wing and attached propulsion jet are torn from her back and spin into the void.  Fareeha scrabbles wildly for purchase, catching herself thanks only to her prosthetic arm, which claws into the Omnic to leave long gouges in the metal, revealing sparking circuits.  

Well shit.  

This wasn’t the plan.

Dangling from the face of the machine, Fareeha takes stock of the situation.  Her rocket launcher was lost in the botched impact.  Her other weapons systems are long gone.  And, most insultingly, the damn thing hasn’t even reacted to her presence, opting to instead continue through the air towards St. Petersburg.  Evidently, it doesn’t think her much of a threat.

“Big mistake you hunk of scrap,” she mutters.

Fareeha twists to reach the fuel canister on her back with her free hand and removes it.  Only 1/2 full.  While Raptora’s fuel is particularly potent so as to carry her weight, she fears it won’t be enough.  But it’s all she has.  After dragging herself up to the command module, she nestles the canister in the gouge she left with her prosthetic.  She takes the last explosive charge she has left, originally intended for her rocket launcher, and jury rigs it to blow in 30 seconds.  

Atop the Omnic, Fareeha breathes a small sigh of relief.  She did it.  But as the timer begins to tick down, she realizes she didn’t actually think about what she’d do if she made it this far.  Survival had kind of been pushed to the wayside as she‘d run out of options.  Damn it all though, she‘s not going to die with this accursed machine if she can help it!  So Fareeha does the next most sensible thing.  She jumps.  Falling, she begins to pick up speed as she hears the thing fly away from her position.  Hurtling through the sky once more, she stretches out to slow her descent before flipping in midair to watch the Omnic speed to its timely demise.

The explosion is magnificent.

Finally, Fareeha feels at ease.  Strange, considering she’s plummeting backwards through open sky.  To be fair, her thoughts are indeed a little scattered.  This is completely understandable, considering there’s a very real chance she’s about to die.  But despite this, Fareeha feels a bizarre sense of calm.  As she hears air whistle through the twisted metal of Raptora, she finds she has very little inclination to flip back around to meet the ground on its way up to meet her.  No.  She’ll be on the ground one way or the other soon enough, whether she wants to or not.  

Instead, she opts to focus on the photo she has taped to the inside edge of her visor.  It’s a faded Polaroid of herself as a small smiling child, embraced by a much younger iteration of a particular Swiss Doctor.  The beaming smile on the young woman’s face brings warmth to Fareeha’s soul.  It’ll be easier to die remembering simpler times.  For some reason, as she closes her eyes, she thinks it’s appropriate her last thoughts should be of Dr. Angela Ziegler.

...

When she was a child, Fareeha had had something of a puppy crush on Angela.  And just about all of the old Overwatch had known about it thanks to her mother Ana’s gentle teasing.  But Angela was a good sport.  She had always been more than happy to play when the younger Amari was visiting the base, even when the adolescent Doctor should’ve been working on filing reports and whatnot.  They’d had no end of silly fun together.  Fareeha still had several fond memories of adventures just the two of them.  But the universe had seen fit to intervene and cast the two down incredibly different paths.  With Fareeha’s enlistment, Ana’s death, the fall of Overwatch, and the vilification of those who survived, Angela and Fareeha were torn apart for a good many years.  And while juvenile notions of intimate affection may have faded with the passage of time, Angela nevertheless always stuck firmly in Fareeha’s thoughts, no matter where she was or what she was doing.

Several long years later, Fareeha received the fateful call.  She jumped at the opportunity to join the new Overwatch.  It had been a dream for most of her life.  It was the best reason she could think of to leave behind her life at Helix.  That being said, she would be lying if she said she hadn’t also thought fondly of the added possibility of reunification with the good Dr. Angela Ziegler, her dear friend from her youth.  So Fareeha left the deserts of Egypt behind and made for the warmth of Gibraltar.

When she stepped off the dropship however, Fareeha’s cheeks had flushed for reasons besides the Mediterranean heat.  Old glimmers thought long since forgotten promptly flared to sucker-punch her in the stomach as Angela shook her warmly by the hand.  The woman was breathtaking.  Disheveled, sleep deprived, overworked, overstressed, and more than a little irritable, but breathtaking.  Fareeha found there was a whole new reason she was glad to have joined Overwatch.

And as the months have trickled by, a beautiful friendship has blossomed between them.  As more and more faces both old and new join them, Fareeha and Angela have found themselves spending increasing amounts of time together.  Not just in administrative capacity, but in a personal capacity.  They’ve rather rapidly became both the best of friends and profound confidantes.  Through their time together, Fareeha has come to trust Angela implicitly.  Sometimes more than she trusts herself.

Of course, gentle teasing has also begun to take place.  Some things never change.  Usually, one of Lena or Genji will make a good-natured crack at just how much time the Doctor and the Captain spend in one another’s company.  Angela usually just sighs, and Fareeha shoots back slyly with some godawful pun at the perpetrator’s expense.  It’s all in good fun.  Everyone knows that, in truth, she and Angela are just…

Just…

What exactly?

It is a little unclear, even to Fareeha.

Certainly, she’d had a little crush when she was younger, but…  

They’re friends.  Nothing more.  Surely.

Right?

...

Fareeha’s a little surprised when her eyes open.  She hadn’t exactly expected her body would ever function again, to be honest.  She’s also a little annoyed at having awoken.  She was having the nicest dream about... Fareeha feels her cheeks flush the deepest shade of beetroot as she remembers her Ziegler-themed stupor.  

Embarrassed, she props herself up on her elbows.  Time to focus on the present.  Where is she?  By the looks of things, she appears to have crash landed in the middle of a forest.  Good god, how fast must she have been traveling to have left behind the tundra completely?  Better question, does her team know where she is?  She can only hope.  Either way, she owes her survival to the thick layer of trees above having broken her fall.  That being said, it seems to have broken a few other things as well.  Fareeha gives a quiet moan as she realizes that the Raptora suit is mangled.  The blue metal of the flight suit lies lacerated and crumpled around her.  Oh well.  It’s only a machine.  It can be rebuilt.  She, on the other hand, is not so easily reconstructed.  

Fareeha turns her attention to herself.  Spine?  Intact.  Still has feeling in her body.  That’s good.  Head?  Definitely concussed.  Still attached to her shoulders though.  That’s acceptable.  Body?  Amazingly, her left arm is fine.  Her prosthetic is… oh.  Mutilated.  Reduced to a lump of metal bolted to her arm.  Ugh.  Still replaceable at least.  Legs?  As Fareeha pushes herself further up on her remaining good arm, searing pain shoots into her body.  She gasps at the shear intensity of the feeling.  Her right leg is undoubtedly broken, but at least the bone hasn’t pierced the skin.  But her left leg is… Her left leg has disintegrated.  No better than a bloody, pulped jelly.  Damn it.  It’s doubtful even Angela could save it at this point.  

At the thought of Angela, Fareeha collapses defeatedly backwards onto the ground.  How long has she been unconscious for?  She’s not sure.  Any amount of time seems too long.  The Doctor must be sick with worry by now.  The last thing she wants is to make Angela worry on account of her own bravado.  It doesn’t help that Angela is certainly going to blame herself for the loss of the leg, even when she couldn’t have done anything about it.  The thought makes Fareeha ache.  And what if she were to die out here?  She dreads to imagine the guilt she’d inflict on all the members of Overwatch for her own rash actions.  But she worries about none more so than the Doctor.  This thought fixed in her mind, Fareeha steels herself.  She has to make it out of here.  For Angela’s sake.  

She scrabbles her helmet off with her good hand, then reaches inside to pluck her comms system and the Polaroid from the padded interior.  Tucking them into her waistband, she then sets about pulling herself from the wreckage.  How is she going to do this?  She can’t walk, that’s for sure.  But the metal of the flight suit is fairly loose around her.  Escape is quite possibly just within her reach.  Seems she’s only got the one course of action then.  She braces, then pushes off with her good hand, launching herself to the right and rolling.  She barely stifles a scream as her legs squish painfully underneath her in the process of pitching out of the blue scrap metal.  But she does it.  She escapes the impact site.  

Tumbling to a stop on hard frosted moss, Fareeha groans again.  This is not how she’d wanted to celebrate mission completion.  She had, in fact, harbored a shy hope that after the mission, she and Angela would have been able to… something.  Anything.  Honestly, any time spent with the Doctor seems, in Fareeha’s opinion, the best reward imaginable for a job well done.  Sheepishly she wonders if Angela feels the same way about spending time with Fareeha.  The idea that she might indeed feel similarly burns hotly in Fareeha’s soul.  It’s enough to propel the soldier onwards.  Grabbing some nearby branches, she uses her belt to rig a makeshift splint around her still salvageable but broken right leg.  No easy task with just the one hand.  With the aide of a large stick serving as an improvised crutch, and no small amount of colourful cursing, Fareeha finally stands.  She’s more than a little dizzy.  But she’s standing.  From her waistband she takes the Polaroid and stares at the little image for several long seconds.  

“I’m not dying out here,” she whispers softly.  “Not today.”

With grim resolve, Fareeha hobbles into the unknown, photo clenched in hand.

...

Their first mission alone together was, frankly, brutal.  Fareeha had been excited to share in the company of the good Doctor, or at least, watch Angela do what she does best.  But what should have been a simple case of humanitarian outreach had turned into an unabated shit-show with the arrival of a small cadre of Talon agents.  They just hadn’t been outfitted for that sort of engagement, as their team had consisted of a host of civilian doctors and Angela.  The only other Overwatch representative was Fareeha, who had been tasked with running guard duty.  And with Angela preoccupied with her medical responsibilities, she was the only one who was properly equipped for such combat.  

But between the two of them, Fareeha distracting enemy fire from the air while Angela shepherded the evacuation of the refugee camp, they had managed to help everyone escape without a single casualty.  Well.  No civilian casualties at least.  Because as Fareeha had roared low over the camp in Raptora, making one last pass for stragglers, some damnable Talon sniper had landed an unbelievably lucky shot.  The bullet absolutely shattered her right arm, and Fareeha only made it back to the waiting dropship by virtue of a Herculean effort and unfathomable amounts of adrenaline.  

When she crashed at the base of the loading ramp, Angela had known something was very wrong.  Whatever assistive synthetic muscles are in that Valkyrie suit are something else, because within seconds the smaller woman had sprinted to the impact site, slung Fareeha over her shoulder, and was hustling back through the craft’s doors to take Fareeha to the med bay, all while while ordering take-off.  Talk about Fast-Response.  Fareeha doesn’t wholly remember the details of that flight back to base.  Excruciating pain, elephantine doses of drugs, and countless hours in the air bleed together to create an unremembered haze.  The aftermath of the flight though, she will remember forever.  In any other scenario, with a full suite of medical equipment, Angela may have been able to save her arm.  But in a paltry dropship medbay, with all her supplies left abandoned at the refugee camp, Angela had been forced to amputate the arm to save Fareeha’s life.  

She awoke two days later in the small hours of the morning, head groggy, eyes fogged.  And while her stump - oh, that was a strange thought to have, her stump - certainly ached, what actually pulled her from her stupor was the disheveled mess of blonde hair seated to her left, the head held in trembling hands, the soft crying filling the sterile room.  A little unsure of herself, Fareeha had reached out with a shaky hand, and caught ahold of Angela’s shoulder.  The Doctor’s head had snapped up, and she split into the most relieved, tearful grin Fareeha has ever yet seen.  Abruptly, Angela threw her arms around the solider while apologizing profusely for not being able to save her arm.  At the time, words had failed Fareeha in her drug and pain fueled daze, and she could only stare dumbfounded into the worried blue eyes in front of her.  There had been much to process after that mission.  More strongly than anything else however, Fareeha remembers how right it felt to have Angela in her arms.

...

Night begins to descend on Siberia as Fareeha stumbles over the thick layer of frost in the murky half-haze of twilight.  She’s absolutely freezing.  How the hell can it have gotten so cold so quickly?  In her mind, the heat of Gibraltar tantalizes, a now distant memory.  Oh what she wouldn’t do to be back at the Watchpoint.  Out here unfortunately, all she has to keep her warm are the tattered remnants of the jumpsuit she wears to prevent chafing while piloting Raptora.  Certainly not useful for practically sub-Arctic conditions.

For the umpteenth time, she buzzes her comms.  She’s lost track of how many channels she’s flipped through during her agonizing trek, trying desperately to let someone, anyone know where she is.  All she’s heard is static.  No responses, no search team, no random signals even.  Just… nothing.  They haven’t given up on her, have they?  It’s a smoldering, painful little thought.  Again, Fareeha wonders how long she was unconscious for.  It couldn’t have been long enough for a rescue attempt to have been called off.  They wouldn’t do that.

Angela wouldn’t let them.

Not for the first time that day, thoughts of Angela make Fareeha’s heart promptly spark.  Why is it that every time she thinks of the long-suffering Doctor, her spirit soars?  Even simply picturing the woman in her mind, Angela brings Fareeha joy.  She grins at memories of Angela asleep at her desk.  Remembers and relishes the many long, thoughtful conversations, that more often than not last late into the night.  Melts at the sound of her laugh.  Turns pink in remembrance of the way her collarbone softly curves beneath her customary turtleneck, sloping down to undoubtedly softer breasts.  The way that Angela…  

The realization hits Fareeha like a freight train.  

Of course.  Of course she has feelings for Angela.  Of course she has feelings for her best friend.  For the person she trusts most in this world.  For the only person with whom Fareeha has ever felt like she can truly, truly, be at peace.  Suddenly, Fareeha feels like she could lift off the ground by virtue of sheer happiness.  Who needs Raptora?  She’s flying on elation, she…

Hang on.  What is that?  Is that a break in the trees?  It is.  Has she found a road?  Better yet, found civilization?  Rallying joyously, Fareeha presses forwards, advancing toward the lazy shafts of light slanting through the pines.  She can do it.  She’s going to do it.  She’s going to make it.  She’ll be able to tell Angela in person how she…

Oh.  

Shit.

As she breaks the tree-line, the Siberian tundra suddenly stretches endlessly into the distance afore her.  Enormous, long rolling stretches of frozen nothing.  She’s managed to walk f**k knows how many kilometers on ruined legs back the way she from whence she crashed.  Back to the most godforsaken place on Earth.  There’s no way they’re going to find her.  Woozy from blood loss, Fareeha collapses despondently against a tree before sliding to the ground.  Damn it.  Damn it!  Got her hopes up for nothing.  She really thought she had a chance for a second there.  Her mind begins to fog.  She shouldn’t have pushed herself so hard to walk.  Wretchedly, she stares down at the Polaroid in her trembling hand.  

“Sorry Angela,” she mutters.  “Don’t think I’m going to make it after all.”  

The photo slips from her fingers as Fareeha slips into unconsciousness.

...

People are always surprised when they learn Satya plays the violin.  Though the architech may not initially strike people as having the sort of time necessary to devote to the mastery of a musical instrument — considering the fervor with which she pursues her work — it turns out she is in fact quite the virtuoso.  She plays to relax, to ease the strain from her mind, often playing long into the night after rough days.  There had been one particularly such rough day last month, full of political drama and ethical argumentation.  The legality and the future of the new Overwatch and all that.  The unending meetings had left the members of the team terribly ragged.  That night, quite a few of their number opted to get absolutely shit-faced.  Nothing builds camaraderie like group inebriation.  That being said, Angela and Fareeha decided it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to engage in such behaviour considering one was Chief Medical Officer, the other a Captain.  

So together, the two had escaped outside into the warm night air of Gibraltar.  Leaning against the railing, they had talked.  Just… talked.  Made bad jokes.  Traded witty repartee.  Gently flirted.  It was wonderful.  Then, they were unexpectedly interrupted by the dulcet tones of Satya’s violin.  Another soul who had had forgone the temptation of drink that night, the music she’d begun to make was filtering outside and onto the balcony.  The moment was simply too perfect.  Pushing off the railing, Fareeha gave Angela a rakish grin and extended a hand in invitation.  

“Care to dance, Doctor?”

Angela flushed a deep shade of crimson at the offer, a fact that still gives Fareeha pleasure.  But with no small amount of enthusiasm, she indeed took Fareeha’s hand.  As the strings of Satya’s violin sang, Angela and Fareeha waltzed beneath the light of the stars.  They danced through the night, giggling to each other.  To be fair though, what started as coordinated movement slowly devolved into a gentle slow dance.  Eventually, they stopped moving entirely.  The world disappeared as they stood together in the night air, arms wrapped tightly around each other, Angela’s head buried in Fareeha’s shoulder.  Fareeha didn’t even notice when Satya stopped playing to go to bed.  She’s not sure how long they stood out there in warm embrace.  She never wanted to let go.  When Angela began to softly snore however, she’d scooped the woman into her arms, and carried her off to her quarters through the now empty halls of the Watchpoint.  

As she tucked the Doctor into bed, Fareeha was struck by how serene Angela looks in her sleep.  Dr. Ziegler spends her days burning the candle at both ends, stressing and worrying for the Overwatch family without concern for herself, often only finding respite in unconsciousness.  The thought tugged at Fareeha’s heart.  She wished the Doctor would take better care of herself.  She wondered if there was anything she could do for her.  At the moment, the best thing seemed like sleep.  So Fareeha rose to depart.  But as she made to leave, Angela rolled over in her sleep and began to mumble quietly.  Sleep talking.  Shamelessly, Fareeha’s lips pulled into a smile and she strained to hear the words being spoken.  Most of it seemed to be nonsense mixed with medical jargon.

But all of a sudden, she could swear that she heard Angela whine a little, then murmur,

“…Fareeha…please...”

She’d been flushed down past her chest as she hurried out of the Doctor’s quarters.  

...

She is dragged back from the abyss of memory and into consciousness once more when she hears the comms system crackle to life again.  This time however, the machine has burst into activity of its own accord.  Harsh static hisses in the air, interrupting the frigid tranquility of the Siberian morning.  Is someone trying to contact her?  Possibly.

She waits.

*kkzzzRSSHHHHH*

Is that it?

*HHSSSSSRZ*

It’s not enough that she has to freeze to death on her lonesome, the universe has to continue to taunt her mercilessly?

*HSsshRKZZZ*

Suddenly, fragments of a cockney accent break in amongst the fizz of static, and Fareeha snaps into focus.

“Ca…” 

*KRSHHHH*

“…do you hear me? Captain Amari, come…”

*KRKshhHHHHh*

“...come in!”

Fareeha scrambles for her mic, pulling it clumsily up to her lips.  “Oxton?  I... I hear you, I’m here.”

“Captain?  Oh blimey, we’ve been searching for you for hours, we -“  Suddenly, the British woman is interrupted.  “Hey!  Gimme that back-”  

Her voice is replaced by the musical lilt of a Swiss accent.

“Mein Gott, Fareeha?  Fareeha, are you there?  Where are you?”

Still quite delirious, Fareeha feels herself break into a silly grin.  “Angela?  Is... is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me Fareeha!  Please, where are you?  Tell me where to find you.”

Fareeha’s brain finally kicks into gear.  “I’m… not sure.  But I can rig my comms to emit a pulse on this frequency so you can triangulate my position.”  As she speaks, Fareeha fiddles wearily with her communicator until it begins to give off a slow, steady radio pulse.  “There.  Angela, I... I don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Oh scheiße.  I’m coming for you Fareeha.  Don’t fall asleep!  Please, hang on!”

“Angela, I...”  

Fareeha trails off as her vision starts to fade again.

Stay awake.  Alright, she can do that.  She singlehandedly took down a rogue Omnic.  She made it this far on broken and pulped legs.  She needs to talk to Angela.  She can sure as hell stay awake.

And she tries.  Oh, does she ever try.  

But exhaustion and delirium are a devious couple of bastards, and together they gang up to push poor Fareeha over the edge.  She groans and slaps herself a couple times.  But it is to no avail.  Despite her best efforts, she sinks down onto the icy ground.  Dammit.  She’d really been hoping to see Angela again before she died.  

And what on earth is that infuriating noise?  

  Somehow, it sounds reminiscent of the pounding vibrations of whirling helicopter blades.  That, or it’s her own pulse hammering in her ears.  Either way though, it doesn’t really matter.  She’s tired.  So very, very tired.  Try as she might, her eyes begin to droop closed.

The last thing she sees before blacking out entirely is an ashen-haired woman borne aloft on golden wings, flying to her side with arms outstretched.  Desperately, she calls Fareeha’s name.  

An angel.

Fareeha decides she’s probably hallucinating.

... 

Ow.

Cognizance swirls murkily in Fareeha’s head.

She’s pretty sick of waking up woozy and confused, not totally sure of her location.

 Where is she?

Bedridden in a cold, clean medbay room.

She’s missing a limb.

And to the left sits Angela.

Wait a minute.  Haven’t they done this already?

Slowly, Fareeha begins to process her surroundings in the here and now.  Awareness invades her consciousness like a virus.  Everything hurts.  Alright.  Okay.  They have indeed been here once before.  Only this time, Fareeha has lost her leg, and Angela is… snoring.

Her head lain on the side of Fareeha’s bed, the Doctor is fast asleep, hair freed from the usual high ponytail to spill wildly across her shoulders.  She’s… she’s beautiful.  Tranquil in slumber.  Seeing Angela in propria persona is more than Fareeha had thought she’d ever see again.  It makes her heart flutter.  Gently, Fareeha laces her fingers with Angela’s and squeezes just a tad.  The sleeping woman groggily wakes.  She appears exceptionally disheveled.  How long has she been by Fareeha’s bedside?

As their eyes lock, Fareeha can’t help but smile as she speaks.  “Hey.”

“Hello,” Angela replies, a little sheepishly.  For a long moment, silence stretches between them as they simply gaze at each other.  “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now.”  Words to be said swirl in Fareeha’s mind.  But anything she thinks to vocalize seems disingenuous.  What can be said, in moments like this?   The truth.  Only the truth.  

“Started to think I’d ever get to see you again for a minute there.”

“You didn’t think I was just going to leave you out there, did you?” she replies, concerned.

“No, no, I-“

“I’d move heaven and Earth to bring you home, Fareeha.”  She tightens her grip on Fareeha’s hand, seemingly unaware she does so.  The sincerity in her tone is shocking.

“Angela…”

“Look, I know it’s unfair of me to ask, but please don’t do something like that again.  I couldn’t bear it if you were to…“  Her voice cracks a little as she trails off, eyes beginning to well up.

“No, Angela, I promise.”  Fareeha places her newly repaired prosthesis on Angela’s cheek.  “I’ll be more careful.  I… I could never do that to you.”

“Thank you,” Angela whispers.  For another long moment, nervous silence fills the room.

Eventually, Angela clears her throat and removes herself to retrieve the holopad from the base of Fareeha’s bed.  “Well, your EKG looks fine and your leg is healing up as well as can be expected, so I think the best thing for you to do is get some rest.”  Reluctantly, she stands to leave.  “I’ll leave you be, and-“

“Angela, wait.”  

“Yes, Fareeha?”

“While I was out there, I… I realized something.”

The Doctor cocks her head in query, smiling softly.

“I realized…  I’m trying to say that I…  Oh damn it.”  What is it that she’s trying to say?

The truth.  

“When I was stuck out there, the only thing I could think about was how badly I wanted to be with you here.  How much the idea of leaving you alone hurt.  How desperately I wanted to hear the sound of your voice just one more time.  You’re the most important person in my life, Angela.  I’m in love with you.”

Angela’s eyes widen.  Her jaw drops just a little.  She stands slightly dumfounded, staring at Fareeha.  But only for a merest breadth of a second.  Without warning, the holopad falls from her hands as she flies to Fareeha’s side.  

For the first time, their lips meet, and enthusiastically introduce themselves.

Fareeha’s not sure how much time passes until they break apart, gasping for air as they rest their foreheads together.  

There will be other conversations to be had.  Other things to decide.  But right here and right now, in each other’s arms, they’re together.  They’re finally together.  It’s all that matters.

[iridescentwinters]

equivalents

— skam noorhelm+remakes crossover

— part three of the three-part series “jails and bails”

grace returned into their temporary jail cell, and took a seat between ele and mia.

“called my boyfriend.” she muttered, “he’s gonna be here in 30.”

mia took her hand. “everything okay?” she asked, worried. “is it money? alex is coming and-“

“no, no, not that,” grace reassured, “it’s just that… he was having dinner with his mom and her new boyfriend.” she gently thumped her head against the wall. “i feel so bad. ugh,” she cringed, “imagine what he told her! hey, my girlfriend’s in jail so i gotta go bail her out.”

ele couldn’t help but let out a snort, but when grace started to laugh, the rest of them started to join in. they truly had no idea why, but they just felt like it. if all of them were being honest, they felt a lot better kicking around the sleaze.

a police man arrived in front of their cell, and mia went up to him, obviously because she was the only one who spoke german. he said a few things and pointed back at the girls, and she nodded, before thanking him and making her way back to the girls. she had a grin on her face.

“what’s up?” grace asked, as soon as mia sat down. “apparently, we broke our glasses and kind of made a mess at the bar, but the good news is, they won’t be pressing charges. actually, a lot of the bartenders who work there said that they wanted charges against the dude. he’s been a douche harassing a lot of the lady bartenders, workers and the visitors. they’re calling us heroes, basically.” she chuckled.

manon let out a ‘whoop!’. “we did it, ladies.” she grinned. “even only knowing each other for just a few hours, we managed to knock a sexist asshole out.”

the girls high-fives each other. “anything else?” ele asked. “mm, yeah,” mia started, “they just want our statements before we go.” ele grinned. “oh, that asshole won’t even have a chance of escaping.” she said, cracking her knuckles.

“thank God my husband came with me,” noora said, “or else i wouldn’t have known how else to get out of here. i don’t like to carry around a lot of money.”

“neither do i,” manon said. “charles usually handles all of that. and the passports.” she grinned sheepishly. “i’m prone to losing things.”

“same here, sister.” grace said, before smirking. “and ooo, charles huh? sounds like he’s some french prince or something.”

manon snorted. “just the french equivalent to mia’s alex.” she nudged her head over at mia. “aw,” grace suddenly noticed a ring on manon’s finger, “is that from him?”

manon looked down at it, before nodding shyly. “yeah, we got engaged 3 months back. he’s kinda like a puppy, though.” she rolled her eyes. “he follows me everywhere i go. but this time, i’m glad he did. but if only i could get him to stop trying to spend so much money on petty things….”

ele scoffed. “my boyfriend’s the king of petty and money-spending, trust me.” she said. “edoardo refuses to eat nothing but over $18 ice cream. $18!” she exclaimed, exasperated. the girls wheezed from their laughter. all of their men were extremely spoilt in a funny way.

“what about your other half, grace?” noora asked. “what’s he like?”

grace rolled her eyes. “think about any cliché guy character from a cheesy american love story or movie, and there you go!” she exclaimed sarcastically. “that’s daniel. he was the football team’s captain of my high school. a total spoilt brat and asshole. it’s really a wonder how i fell for him.” as she said that, a smile was unconsciously spread on her face.

the girls smiled as well. “guess we’re prone to charming assholes.” noora said. “hey, i married one, you guys will be too. this shit is forever.” she joked.

but obviously deep down inside, they wouldn’t want it any other way. william entered the police station, which was a few miles away from the hotel he and noora were staying at.

“er, hi,” he greeted the police man behind the counter. “i’m here to bail someone out.”

“may i know their name, sir?” the police man asked. william nodded. “noora sætre.” he said. the man didn’t even need to go through his computer. “she’s currently in questioning right now, sir. you can pay right now and then have a seat behind you.”

william’s eyes widened. “questioning?” he asked in disbelief. “is she okay? what did she even do?” noora hadn’t explained anything to him, only told him that she got herself in jail and needed him to bail her out.

the police man cracked a small smile. “don’t worry about it. nothing major. in fact, it’s just taking a statement, that’s all. and i’ll leave the story to her.” he said, which made william relax a little. “okay, then. thank you.” he thanked, and paid the bail before making his way over to the row of chairs the police man had directed him to.

there were 4 other men sitting there, waiting slightly impatiently. william guessed that they must’ve gotten here a lot earlier, and still hadn’t managed to do what they had come for.

the chair in the middle was empty, and he helped him to it. after a few minutes in awkward silence, he finally decided to break it. “you guys here to bail someone out? a friend?” he asked, in a slight joking manner.

the boy on his right broke into a smile. “try fiancée.” he said. “and i still don’t know what happened. one moment she’s at her art gallery, telling me she’ll be out with some friends she made, the next thing i knew, i was receiving a call from her. from jail.” he recounted his past hour. “oh, and i’m alex, by the way.” 

he extended his hand out to william, who shook it. “william. and hey, that’s basically what happened to me as well. my wife noora’s here on a business trip, and she was at an art gallery to go report on it, and then bam! in jail.”

“your lady as well?” the man on william’s left piped up. “my girlfriend works at-"

“artchives?” the last two men finished simultaneously. the one on alex’s right extended his hand out for all of the boys. “charles. charmed to meet you.”

“i’m daniel.” the other man introduced. “edoardo. pleased to meet you.” the man on daniel’s left said.

“well, you guys clearly aren’t from around here, especially you with the american accent.” alex pointed at daniel, who raised his hands in surrender. 

“dead-on. i’m from new york, but born and raised texas.” he explained.

“ah,” charles said, “explains the texan accent. i’m from france.”

“rome, italy.” edo then said.

“norway.” william said. “and i have a feeling our girls got arrested all together.”

alex snorted. “let me ask you guys something.” he said. “do your girlfriends-wife,” he gestured towards william, “pick on fights at every chance they get? will do and say whatever it takes to make them right?”

“absolutely.”

“a 100%.”

“no doubt.”

“is that even a question?”

alex did jazz-hands. “ta-da!” he exclaimed sarcastically. “that’s how we’ve ended up here. our psychos have found each other.” he paused, before continuing. “my girl mia’s the artist of the gallery.” he explained, pride shining clear in his voice.

“naw, that’s cool man,” edo said, “she’s really talented. ele kept sending me photos every step she took.” he said, with a grin.

“as did manon. she’s crazy about art.” charles shook her head, but with a glowing smile on his face.

“i met my noora in high school. i fell in love with her the moment she stood up to me. no, roasted my ass.” william admitted. “and i’ve been crazy about her ever since.”

“you too?” the rest of them exclaimed, which gained some weird looks from the others, as well as the police man standing outside the waiting room. they slowly reclined back to their seats.

“i noticed mia around, and was ready to just tap that ass,” alex admitted, “but then when she started insulting me, asking me if my mom never cuddled me enough or if i still wet the bed, i felt like i met an angel. a woman.”

“grace insulted me in front of my entire football team.” daniel started with a sheepish grin. “at first i thought it was some kind of intimidation trick, until she hit a sensitive nerve.” he paused, before admitting it. “my daddy issues.”

“mine too.” edo admitted. “but if i’m being honest, i couldn’t hear half the things eleonora was saying. i was too focused on her face. i was like…” he imitated an explosion with his hands, over his head. “mind blown. how is one woman that beautiful?” he asked, before continuing. “oh, and she-“

“-said that your pubes didn’t grow as fast as the others, so you got bullied for it?” charles interrupted with edo’s exact words. when he nodded, charles grinned. “manon surprised the hell out of me. i was used to being the boss, with no questions being asked. i didn’t give a shit about anyone but myself and my basketball team, until she came along.” he ran his fingers through his hair. “i don’t know what i would’ve been right now, if i hadn’t met her.”

“it’s a scary thought, isn’t it?” william asked. charles nodded. 

“probably would’ve still been a piece of shit.” edo admitted, and the rest of the boys agreed with him. the five of them had gone silent for a little, before william asked them another question. or more like, stated it like it was some sort of trivial game.

“okay, nicknames. go.” he pointed at charles.

“charles-henri.”

“axel.”

“donald.”

“eduardo.”

william sighed. “wilhelm. she still calls me that when she’s pissed at me. which is, you know….”

“every 2 days?” daniel guessed, and william nodded.

“damn,” alex muttered, “it’s like our girlfriends are each other’s international equivalents.” the rest of them agreed immediately with them.

“does that make us equivalents too?” daniel asked with a half-kidding smile. “i mean, if y’all can relate to my troubled youth….”

“try me.” edo challenged with a small smirk.

alex snorted. “you don’t even wanna know my family and its history.”

“there is no way in Hell you’d survive my family.” charles muttered.

william rolled his eyes. “try an asshole prick of a brother.” he stated. the others tensed up at his words.

“ignorant piece of shit of a father?” charles asked. the others stayed quiet.

“lying, cheating and stealing bitches for mothers?” daniel muttered. still no protests.

“nannies your entire life? gossiping ones, at that, so you basically had to learn about your family through others?” edo asked. he received nods.

“dead little sisters?” alex asked quietly. and in that moment, all of the boys had gone stereo-quiet. like they had nothing else to say. it was also shocking that 5 strangers had led almost the exact same lives. they hadn’t felt so understood before.

“i was actually glad that grace called.” daniel admitted. “i was having dinner with my mom and her new playtoy. i needed a way to get out anyway.” he tried for a smile, as did the others.

“man,” edo said, “forget the girls being each other from different countries. we’re each other from different countries."

the others couldn’t have agreed more.

“william!”

william looked up, and saw his wife grinning, and waving at him. she was with four other girls, who were already making their way towards their partners.

alex engulfed mia into a big hug. “what have you done, you little troublemaker?” he teased.

“ugh. i’ll answered that.” ele said, as she detached her head from edo’s neck. 

“so, your amazing girlfriend brought us to this bar and told us the story behind her crazy gallery. which,” she looked at edo, “you have to go to.” she then looked back at alex. “and this fucking sexist, living in the 1900s moron comes up to us and says idiotic shit to us. and we got pissed and jumped him. the end.”

charles’ eyebrows raised alarmingly. “idiotic shit?” he repeated, before looking at manon. “what did he say? did he try to hurt any of you? did he-“

“calm down, dad,” manon joked, stroking his cheek. “he just said something a horny 12 year old would say, and then said some interesting ideas as to how to make us behave.”

daniel scowled. “that fucker should be thankful that i-we weren’t there.” he corrected himself as he spoke.

grace raised an eyebrow in amusement. “we?” she asked with a grin.

edo looked over at the boys. “let’s just say that we bonded while you girls were in there.” he said.

noora smiled. “we knew that’d happen.” she said.

“and now you guys can still continue to bond tomorrow,” mia said, “since i have an interview with all of these ladies scheduled at my office. and you're all invited.” she said with a grin.

“hell yeah!” daniel exclaimed. the group were now heading out the doors of the station. “that means i get more time to complain about grace!”

grace gasped, and whacked his arm. “excuse me? try me trying to live with you!” she huffed.

“it’s okay to be unbearable grace,” edo joked, “you have ele to relate to.”

“and mia.” alex added.

“oh, definitely manon.” charles said.

“hey!”

“you better take that back, axel!”

“i just went to jail and will not hesitate to go back again!”

as the other couples argued, noora and william walked a little behind them. they watched their new friends with smiles.

noora looked at william. “it’s as if they’re us, just with different names and nationalities.” the blonde said.

“it kinda feels like a family.” william confessed. “it’s something about all of them that make me-“

“-want to have kids asap?”

william nodded with a grin. noora smiled. “i’ll see what i can do about that.” she placed her arm around her husband’s waist. “but for now…. you’re definitely the most annoying one out of all of the boys.”

“then you’d have to be the most unbearable one.” william said with a grin. he paused for a moment, before continuing.

“besides, they’re all younger than us by two or three years. we’re probably the original king and queen of opposites attracting."

TEARS. i miss my parents, and would like to request for a skam reunion special episode. thx

[haonqq]

30 Day Yinro Challenge: Day 1-9

All of this ended up longer than intended so its 9 days under the cut lmao

1. the basics: introduce us to your watcher!

You enter the walls of Caed Nua, met with the sight of milling guests and locals alike, small market stalls lined up. It almost appears akin to a small village, people going about their business, be it building, shopping, watching the speech in the foyer you can’t quite hear from your distance, or perhaps attending worship in the small, homely church. It certainly wasn’t what you’d expected from all of the ghastly descriptions of the place from merely a year ago. You peel your eyes from the sight and make your way towards the Great Hall, but as you approach, looking like one to proposition the local thayn, a guard stops you. “You won’t be findin’ him in there.” She gestures behind her at the large door, cracked slightly but seemingly empty. “This time a’day he’s usually out by Brighthollow, working in the garden or cookin’. If he hasn’t been stolen off to help out with some other chore.” What she’s saying doesn’t quite make sense, and you aren’t inclined to believe her, but follow her directions back towards this ‘Brighthollow’. Passing through a few groups of gossiping locals, you find the building matching her description and look around. Nobody seems to be in the garden, though it does seem recently tended. The kitchen seems to be your next stop, but as you make your way towards the door, you hear something like a curse above you. Squinting up into the afternoon sky, you manage to spot a shingle as it slides off the edge of the roof, managing to move out of the way just in time to avoid it landing on you. You look up again to see an elf. You blink again, having not believed the rumors of a pale elf being the new thayn and owner of Caed Nua. “Oh, gods, sorry! Did it hit you? I should have been more careful, slipped right between my hands!” He looks as apologetic as he sounds, wiping a wrist along his forehead, thin locks of strawberry dusted pale hair sticking to the sweat on his face and neck. “Here, let me just-” And within a moment he’s down the ladder and in front of you, checking you over carefully before wiping a fleck of dirt off your shoulder, then clapping his hand there. “There we go, good as new!” It was harder to hear from above, but its clear he isn’t from the Dyrwood. Rauatain, if your memory is to be trusted, but he speaks Aedyran clearly enough. He smiles as he looks you over, crow’s feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes and it’s only now you notice their striking pink color. “Ah, my apologies, Yinro Manaaki, Thayn and Lord of Caed Nua at your service. I take it you’re here to speak with me?” He starts out maintaining eye contact with you, but as he continues on he squats down to pick up the bits of broken shingle from the ground before standing again. You nod your affirmation, though you’re not sure what to make of him. He seems genuine enough, and the name matches. He smiles again, so genuinely you can tell everything he’s telling you is the truth. “You have excellent timing, I was just finishing up fixing the roof.” He disposes of the shingle pieces and wipes his hands on his pants, already dirty from previous wear. Then he gestures forward and takes a step towards the Great Hall, waiting on your before moving along, keeping at your pace. “So, what is it I can do for you?”

2. appearance: what race is your watcher? what do they look like? any scars, tattoos, or markings?

(photo by @riessene because its just,,, so good im cry)

I touched on a few things in the fancy dancy intro but! He’s a pale elf with strawberry blonde hair(though its on the lighter side) and of the lighter blue skin variety. Naturally, he’s covered in those white freckles because i love them He has two prominent scars, both on his face

The first is the scar on his mouth, which crosses both lips. While in a,, disagreement fight with his older adopted brother Branwen, there was always some shoving and punching and the like, but Branwen got a solid hit on him and Yinro managed to catch his face on something sharp and it just sliced through his lip and its healed but never really gone away,, The other is on his cheek, down to his jaw and he actually got this one when he met Aloth! Unable to talk the drunks down, Yinro assisted Aloth with taking them out for their safety and managed to catch one of the weapons on his cheek since he’s an idiot and doesnt use weapons when he fights and with everything going on with lack of sleep and all its unlikely it healed to full capacity and so it will remain for all his days

(im debating on one over his eyebrow at the beginning of Deadfire but that depends on how That starts exactly also debated on a tattoo but lbr i forget his scars all the time im good lmao)

3. personality & alignment: give us a look into your watcher’s personality! you can use theirmyers briggs type, d&d morality alignment, or just describe their motives and quirks.

As a start, Yinro is bordering the Neutral/Chaotic Good alignment, sticking closer to the Trying to keep lawful, but also following his own moral compass as to whether the Law is truly Good. He is however a supremely good person and tries to remain as honest as possible without putting someone in danger that doesnt need to be. While he is, as Eder put it, the type to “get involved”, in cases where the punishment seems deserved he won’t step in. However, while he does genuinely try to be good and make good decisions, part of it is attempting to make up for past wrongs and trying not to dip back into bad habits. He also has problems, because of that and misunderstanding teachings, avoids his anger. He used to let his anger pretty much control him, back when he was first adopted, and made a lot of trouble for people who didnt deserve it. He was supposed to be learning to control his anger and work with it and not let it control him, but ended up suppressing it in the long run. (which is going to be a primary Personal Conflict in Deadfire cause BOY is he pissed). But ultimately he’s a benevolent person and believes the best of everyone and believes that anyone can make up for their mistakes in the long run if they’re willing to try.

4. sexuality & gender: how does your watcher identify? is this important to them, or have they never given it much thought?

Gender hasn’t really been much of a focus for Yinro and he’s never really given it much thought. He probably thought about it a bit when literally soul searching provided his previous life was a woman, and if he didn’t already view gender as more of a biological thing than a soul bound thing or important at all, he’d probably be more fluid but he’s comfortable identifying as a man in this life.

Yinro is strictly attracted to men, both romantically and sexually, and is pretty important to him. While I dont think Rauatai in particular is against same-sex relationships, I think in his mind considering before being moved there he only lived with his mother and didn’t really interact with much anyone else he probably heard a lot about het relationships moreso thank gay ones and so when he got to a romantically interested age, he had that barrier of ‘but I SHOULD like women’ when realistically he was repulsed at the idea. It was a big part of realizing who he is and is much more important to him than gender.

This being said, he is a very touchy person (touchy being like. Physically touching peple, he enjoys physical contact) and isn’t opposed to being as touchy with female friends as long as they’re aware theres no romantic inclination there.

5. background: what’s your watcher’s culture and background? tell us a bit about their life before traveling to the dyrwood!

Yinro spent the first 20 years of his life in The White That Wends living a nomadic life with his biological mother. His father was still alive, but the relationship with his mother was purely to produce a child for her. She was a hunter, and decided clan life wasn’t for her, and so that was where Yinro grew up. An unfortunate accident after being ambushed by slavers hampered her mobility, and ultimately resulted in her death in an avalanche. This left Yinro travelling alone with no hint as to where a clan may be or really anyone at all. He lasted alright, knowing how to hunt and survive there, but that didn’t prepare him for the slavers catching up, trapping him and ‘escorting’ him to Rauatai for selling. He didn’t spend long in servitude but it was enough to twist his sorrow from losing his mother into an anger that would permeate the next 10 years of his life. Naturally when he managed to escape servitude, he was a scourge of the streets. Petty theft, shakedowns, anything to get by. After he was picked up by a kind dwarven woman with a knack for picking up troubled youth and adopting them named Vianna Manaaki, this behavior continued until he met his mentor. His mentor really kicked him a new one, but became almost like a father figure to him, even if he was temporary. After that, Yinro began to shape up and make amends for his previous wrongs and becoming a role model for his younger siblings and gaining some semblance of a normal siblinghood with Branwen, though the resentment for the trouble Yinro caused his mother was still there. He began making amends to a local tavern owner by washing his dishes, steadily becoming more and more interested in cooking while watching him in the kitchens. Over time, the owner began working with him to the point that Yinro was a full fledged assistant chef. Once the management changed, Yinro decided that was his time to set out and find somewhere he could really call his, always feeling a bit outcast. He set out for the Dyrwood after hearing about cheap land, hoping to find an inexpensive place to live and settle down and make a living off cooking. Then we find him with the caravan and WELL,, chefing didn’t work out.

Due to him spending a majority of his life in Rauatai, I went with the Rauatain Laborer background, though he does still follow some TWTW culturally, he’s more in tune with Rauatain (initially he was a drifter but ultimately didn’t fit with his bg)

6. family: who does your watcher consider family? do they place more importance on blood relatives or found family? do they keep in touch after traveling to the dyrwood?

Yinro always considers his birth mother family, but considers his adopted family (even Branwen) just as much family as she was. (guess who’s got nine fucking adoptive siblings, though two are older than Yinro) And while he does consider his companions family as well, there’s a different context, familial but definitely more on the ‘found family’ variety, whereas adoptive family are basically blood relatives in his his eyes. He was doing well keeping in contact with them on his way and at the beginning of the trip, but as things got more hectic and he got more tired, he didn’t want to worry them so he sent one final letter reassuring them that he was just getting busy and wouldn’t be in contact for a while. He has since resumed regular contact post-game.

7. stats & class: give us a rundown of those sweet, sweet base stats. do they line up with how you envision your watcher from a roleplay standpoint, or are they more gameplay based? do they line up with your watcher’s race and class? how did they begin training in their chosen class? (bonus! will they be multi-classing in deadfire?)

Not technically the stats i used in game, since these are from one of the replays with the laborer bg and more context to what the stats actually do. I try to stick closer to a roleplaying form rather than gameplay, but try to keep a clooose balance between the two, making it possible to do the things I want Yinro to be able to do as well as keep close to how he actually is. I think he is not nearly as perceptive or smart as the average elf assumedly is, he’s a lil bumpkin with no formal education but he’s not stupid either. I thinkkk its pretty good Monk stats though (okay he DOES have perception but he’s too much of a dingus to do anything about what he sees) I briefly touched on it in the bg question, but! (okay im changing how they met right now because i just came up with a better idea here we go lmao) Yinro was shaking some people down late at night, when his master(monk master/teacher is what i mean by master in this story) walks by. Of course, being in this part of town for a while he’s heard of Yinro, little shits got a rep. He waps Yinro over the back of the head with a his staff, knocking him down and dazing him, letting the two he was shaking down go but turning back to Yinro is able to recognize the pain and and anger behind his actions. Gives him two options: get turned over to the guard(again), or become his pupil and move past this. Yinro, conflicted but also WANTING to change and grow, took him up on the offer. And so for the next couple years he trained him in both combat and discipline, and Yinro stopped being so much of a little shit.

The plan IS for him to multiclass, but I’m not sure if I want him to be a Shadowdancer or a Brawler,,

8. fighting style & gear: what weapons and armor does your watcher use? are there any talents/abilities that they favor in combat? are there any that they refrain from using, for moral reasons or otherwise? (bonus! will they choose a sub-class in deadfire?)

A good portion of the game I had him in medium armor, but realistically he’s more likely to wear light armor(aka basically,, regular clothes,, with maybe a leather vest, MAYBE) He also didn’t use any weapons, depending purely on his little gay hands, though come Deadfire he’s realised that,, maybe he should,, use weapons and right now I have him using a sword/sabre in his main hand and dagger/stiletto in his off hand but thats subject to change depending on subclass and how viable monk is Debating on the Shattered Pillar subclass for monk, but Im not sure about a multiclass subclass (maybe avoid a subclass for one for simplicity’s sake)

9. reputations: what are your watcher’s dispositions? do they line up with how you envision your watcher? what are your watcher’s reputations? do they work to maintain any reputations, either good or bad?

Remember how i said Yinro was a good boy? When have I EVER lied to you?? I will say I didn’t play with dispositions on so a lot of the stoic options (esp the Hiravias one with the raw meat. Also Yinro would eat raw meat just not That Part) I was playing off for comedic effect which is. Really funny if you consider Yinro just being bad at jokes

Reputation wise he didn’t explicitly try for anyone to like him besides the Crucible Knights and that was so he could get into the peace talks since they seemed the closest Law without consorting with criminals or,, u know the Dozens,,, neither of which he was a fan of (he had some drawbacks with the knights ofc but less than the others) Which is probably why he ended up with some places only seeing him as a hero rather than a champion And some places,, not liking him much at all

[imperiusv]

V - Million pieces

Blinded by my own arrogance and stupidity. I just couldn’t believe this was happening, again , I knew it was coming and that it  was for the better we went our separate ways, but somehow i thought we were different, that there was a small chance that it might not turn out like that, that we are actually unique and we can do better and create a better future and world for ourselves.Oh boy, was i naive.You always let me down so tenderly ,you said that maybe this is where it ends and took a bow for the bad decisions that we made. It breaks my heart into A million pieces If it's gonna break me Won't you let me go Leave it till the morning I don't wanna know We're too far gone Nothing I say will mean anything Just drink, fuck, dance Right through disaster I entered our apartment ,but it wasn’t home for me anymore, as my home had left 30 minutes prior to my arrival. Words can not explain how i felt , anything i write or say won’t ever be enough to express what was going through my head - anger, rage, sadness, guilt and God knows what else . Probably that was the hardest day, seeing that you are not there and realizing you are not coming back, I knew from the get-go it was over and no amount of talking , convincing or begging would make you come back , due to the simple reason i allowed you to leave me instead of dumping your ass, but i still had to try, didn’t I? It was all a blur , i have no idea how, but my brother was there too, he came , again I don’t recall why or how , but he came to my place and was  there for me and i will forever be in his debt, he helped me survive  those dark days and sleepless nights, even though i hurt him too and didn’t show enough gratitude , he thought i wasn’t appreciating what he was doing for me , i realized even back then , that without him i would have been lost completely.  Unfortunately i was still sick , top all that emotion and sadness with a high fever and you will have a pretty messed up cocktail , no wonder i had hallucinations. I couldn’t sleep, eat , drink or even think rationally , all these conversations we had during that time were at the cost of such a huge effort on my side, it took me hours to recover from each one, seeing how you give less and less of a damn with each second spend apart from me , really messed me up, it was like i couldn’t recognize you anymore. Not something unexpected , of course, I just again thought you were different and it wouldn’t be the same with you, but it was, you weren’t different at all, the same thing, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I've been squashing my whole life. An ugly, evil, belly-to-the-ground , lying piece of crap . At one time the lines were so blurry, between you and the other hoe , i thought i was losing my fucking mind. The vultures gathered and were waiting to feast , all thinking i would collapse and fail , my ex contacted me as soon as you started deleting photos, talk about a messed up stalker, it was disgusting , my friends advised me to screw her brains out, but yeah, just one short thing about that , i was accused by some folks who were there with me the last time, that it seemed,  at least to them ofc , I got over you so quick and smooth and that it was as almost i didn’t care that much , which is absolutely not  true at all. Last time this shit had happened , my whole fucking life was a complete and utter mess, i was a fat fuck, who had been living in a bubble of his own making for the last 2 years, force fed by lies and junk food, my mom had just ran away, grandpa died , i barely passed  the semester, on the final day and I had really toxic people around me, who did not want to see me do better, it was not that i loved that hoe more, i want to make that CRYSTAL CLEAR , she was just the anchor of stability i had attached myself to in that pile of shit  i called my life at the time. So yeah this time I took the rational way out and to be honest my life was starting to get better even as we were breaking up, not to mention since you left that everything with a few exceptions has been phenomenal and my life has really kicked off in the direction i want to see it go, but yeah enough about that. Other bitches started writing me , girls who apparently were waiting on this to happen, like that bitch from work you hated that much, but nothing compares to the disgusting shit you had in for yourself and the crap you had been feeding me the last weeks how everything was my fault and so on, but more of that later. I was there, alone, faced with the consequences of our actions, feeling lower than the sterling. Initially nobody was on my side,not even my own self, as you had painted this grotesque picture , which i believed in without question  as it was the Imperial truth. Blaming myself for everything , not receiving support from anyone, my dad initially told me i was a piece of shit or something similar, only my brother said he noticed your erratic behavior the last couple of months and knew you were up to something , i defended you, blind to the truth. The only reason i went to the sea was because i knew you were there too and it took a lot of convincing and fighting to stop me from coming to see you, how pathetic would that have been?As i was trying to make sense of it all, barely breathing and counting every second, you were having a party with your fucking parents, celebrating your freedom, as I was doing something to constrain you or damage you, I only wanted to push you to do better and be a better version of yourself, so we can grow and improve together, to overcome difficulties and conquer new peaks, not be mediocre. I guess we didn’t want the same things. I remember getting high with my brother, he was so worried i might do something to myself and i was really close to be honest to cutting or having an emotional suicide, i mean i would never kill myself for some dumb bitch, but i was close to shut down completely  my emotions, I remember almost breaking down at work i went to the bathroom to catch my breath and try to get through the day, i looked myself in the mirror and i could see in the eyes of the reflection that, he just went through war and said to him ,whatever it is that broke your heart, won’t fix it, so let go. Thank God i didn’t get  deeply depressed, as  the last time it took me two years to recover from that, i managed to stay strong and i grew so much through all this pain, it was my metamorphosis, i was reborn as a phoenix  for a second time , the good Lord had given me this opportunity to become a better man, to see the right way and find my own path in life, which i eventually started doing down the line,at the time i didn’t realize it of course, I was saying to myself why me, why does it have to be me , in all the fucking people in the world , this shit had to happen to me , i lost the woman i loved, i was thinking i might lose my job, i was actually thinking to quit , as the first weeks i was clearly unfit to do work or think at all rationally , good thing i had holidays. It was a struggle every day , just to get out of bed for weeks and months, felt like hardest thing , Fortunately for me , I am a fighter and i didn’t give up, my life has always been shaped through tragedies, funny thing is you never realize that the tragedies are shaping you,but they indeed are, making you a better man, step by step, only if choose not to be subdued by them and use them to grow  and in retrospect when you look back at them you understand something you didn’t when they were happening, that life is actually a struggle , nothing is actually without a cost , just given to you, you have to fight for it ,earn it , suffer and sacrifice and learn your lessons. You made my life so hard, that i am actually grateful for it, as now i can appreciate all the good things more and learned to recognize the bad ones and avoid them like hell. Slowly my senses starting coming back to me, i am really proud of myself that i didn’t turn to alcohol like last time, i did some drugs though, but  i’ve been smoking  cigarettes occasionally ever since, like one before bed or whatever. Strangely i find solace in work, those days i pushed so hard at work, that my colleagues started to hate me and people generally disliked me for being a workaholic and keeping to myself a lot, it was work, gym,headphones and insomnia 24/7. Solitude. I started running every morning as i was running for my life, when i put on some music and took in a gasp of cold morning air, running through the azure fields, full of blue flowers and sapphire butterflies , I felt so good and at peace with myself, just looking at the beauty of the world and marvel at nature’s wonder, realizing how insignificant or important I am , depending on how you perceive yourself , but just for a few seconds of course, before thoughts of you would come racing to my head, but with each day they were less and less intrusive and demanding.I was lifting every fucking day so i can keep my mind off things, worshiping the Gym deities in the Temple of Iron , I was improving really slowly and seeing you every time set me back days. As the initial haze lifted I saw the truth you were hiding from me, it really tore me apart to go into your personal messages, but i had to go through your dms, as you were lying to me you dumb fucking bitch, imagine my shock and surprise when i started reading all that shit , at first i was defending you, she is confused , doesn’t know what she is saying , but slowly it all started to make sense, i started connecting the dots,  older conversations, inconsistencies, logical explanations for your behavior , it all added up - Hodgetwins my girlfriend left me for a fat guy. It was disgusting when my mother tried to reach out to you, because she cared,wanting to see how we were doing - you laughed  at her with you fucking friends, she is not the best woman in the world, but she has a good naive heart and she really did like you, instead you talked shit and made fun of her, despicable , i couldn’t believe what you were writing to your mom and friends about me  and my family, like i was some kind of guy who was beating you and treating you like shit  that all my family was fucking nuts and harassing you, meanwhile i was ready to sell my own fucking soul just to get back with you. Praise the Emperor that you are so fucking stupid not to change your passwords, so i can take advantage of your own stupidity to find out the truth,as this was the only thing i ever wanted - the truth. When you came with your sister i intentionally let it it slip ,as i couldn’t handle reading that shit anymore i knew you had to do something as I was gonna go completely crazy, good thing you are not that stupid and caught on otherwise if that shit had gone for longer , i might be in jail.The revelations from reading your messages , really set me free, gave me the spark i needed to light up my rebirth and transformation  and i know what you are gonna say, that i am placing blame on other people and I’m a dumb motherfucker, blind to his own mistakes, but that’s not true, you can CLEARLY see that from the other chapters how much i cared and loved you, i know i screwed up and where exactly i failed our relationship ,but baby girl it takes two to tango , you should have fought for us , instead of giving up and taking the easy way out, as nothing worth it comes easily , a lesson i thought i had learned from trying to date you the first months of and prior our relationship, i remember these lessons now and wont repeat the same fucking mistakes , but you never experienced those things, never had to endure or suffer anything your whole fucking life, that’s why you couldn’t appreciate me or what we had, because you didn’t work for it, it was all me, love. This is what hurt me the most , that you just fucking left like I meant nothing to you, it almost shattered me and brought me to my demise, but i managed to go through the fire and the flames left from the rubble of our sin.  I wasn’t planning to talk about him, but , c’mon you know me better than that, literally WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, VERONICA. At first i thought it was some kind of sick stupid joke , but as reality started hitting me i realized that the joke was on me.Were you high or drunk or probably blind? I know the old tale what matters is on the inside, but he didn’t seem any special there as well, i believe in the ancient greek saying that the physical appearance is a manifestation of the soul, this guy must be a troglodyte from the underworld, then. Girls always move up the dating world when they leave their boyfriends , at least for the time being of course, i feel like you hit rock bottom, he looks homeless,skinny fat, disgusting ,unkempt and worst of all he is a complete beta,a stooge and a wimp for you to push around and make him your pet. I know you have a thing for disgusting guys - Romaine , Jan, this guy, lol, but I just imagine how bad i must have been for you to do such a thing or how stupid,gullible and insecure you must’ve been to make such a choice. I became the laughing stock of our entire community , even Pierre felt bad for me, all my girl friends think you went insane and most of them joke that you were probably a goddess in bed and that’s why i stayed with you for so long, it was so eye opening and refreshing when I started talking to other girls about how our relationship was, as they were telling me the things their boyfriend did and did not do and i could genuinely see the envy they felt when i was telling them how i treated you and how we lived together, going places and doing stuff and how you did me in the end,yes love, i remember you telling me the same thing how talking about us to your friends opened your eyes and what a revelation it was, oh spare me the sermon, but mine counts, as the girls i talked to, were not your disgusting friends like the one who is fucking cheater and a whore or the other one who is nasty , unfuckable  fat piece of shit, or your boss and the hobo that was sniffing around, I’m talking about decent, stand up girls, educated, intelligent and smart , with a lot more life and relationship experience, older than you and your gaggle of dumb ass bitches. Every time i saw you together, something died inside me, it was the part that still loved you , in the beginning i was aggressive, as i knew i would get fired, a few times i came really close to it, especially during the winter awards lottery, I had a couple wines and i saw you with him in the crowd, thank god i was with Skalamander and Jojo, they saw you and and my eyes spelled murder, they sensed what i was about to do, make a fool out of myself and thankfully stopped me, before i could acomplish that, Jojo distracted me and Skalamander  held me back, long enough for me to get distracted and you vanished into the crowds of people gathered to celebrate the holiday season, people were so happy and joys , all i could think was how fucking bad shit had gotten then, like how did this happen i was thinking the whole time, tracing back all my steps and mistakes, struggling to comprehend it all and basking in my own misery ,in such moments  my thoughts were directed at myself, feeling  so broken and damaged and nothing will fix me and it will only get worse and worse, but time fixes everything, that’s all i needed - time.  I avoided going out alone and being generally in situation where there is no one to stop me , especially after those really close  few times , I decided to put in huge effort no to do anything stupid, you never knew of course, as I am a really good hunter, i tracked you down and found what you were up to, it was rather easy , as i knew how you think and act, i studied your habits and knew exactly how you were hiding and fooling around, this  brought me only misery and sadness of course,but this revelation was what i needed to break the chains that bounded me and finally  stop believing that fairy tale image i had of you. It was like magic - every time i would feel weak and start to miss you, i would get a good tasty cup of reality tea or a slap in the face, talk about irony , but the rage and disgust i felt from seeing you two lowlifes together , helped me overcome my addiction to you more than all the self love in world, positive vibes, gym and bitches i fucked. To be honest I thought it wouldn’t last, like the first time you would fuck him , you would be so disgusted with yourself and see the difference, probably come begging to take you back, when that didn’t happen , by the way i knew when you fucked him, I saw you in the subway with him that morning, your messed up hair and how you were looking at one another, talk about mental breakdown, my heart fell, i nearly collapsed, it was so hard to control myself i lit a cigarette inside from being so angry, i was trembling and seeing red, thinking i might explode from the inside out.Those bits i would rather forget. Then of course i thought pride and its normal, it might take a while as  it was a rebound, i wasn’t exactly being nice to you after we split , all my friends were telling me that it wont last so long and eventually you will want to find a normal decent guy , an year in, it is still yet to happen, sometimes when i feel shitty or down , i open up your Instagram and i start laughing , always fixes my mood, by the way i still don’t know why you blocked me,as I didn’t write you or anything, it also baffles me how you didn’t even reach out once to me or to my friends, family or whoever just to see how I was doing, if i was still alive or whatever, it just ridiculous. I did ask people about you, just to clarify and i tried reaching out, but you already knew that, even thought you were the one that said you still wanted me in your life and to keep contact , be friends and all those cliches , you turned your back completely on me like I didn’t fucking exist or we never happened and you still do, which is fucking ridiculous , it is as i had left you for another girl or you caught me cheating or something , wtf? After these “ incidents” I would make an effort not to see you at all, I stopped going on walks when you would be there, I knew your habits, i started going to the gym exactly at the time you would go out and your dumb ass started hanging under the gym and around, so i can see you , i hope you didn’t do it on purpose and just didn’t realize it, I mean you are not the sharpest tool in the box, but i wouldn’t be surprised if you did it on purpose just to mess with me. A lot of PRs in the gym came out of this, seeing you and Quasimodo down in the yard laughing and fooling around, sometimes i would even feel like the moment i would start to miss you, the Gods would send me the both of you together, just to remind me , why i shouldn’t miss you or want to get back together. A lot of times i would see your disgusting friend , she hates me for no fucking reason and would give me the stink eye all the time, probably because she is fat,ugly and miserable , who knows, people like to blame me for their misfortunes all the time. So this went on for quite a while, going back and forth , feeling bad , then worse and in the end better , I started fucking other girls, that didn’t help at all, first time i felt so disgusted with myself, even though all the girls were better looking than you and hotter and performed a lot better than our first time, it just didn’t feel right, fucking with no feelings and still doesn’t, i mean its cool and all , one time i fucked this french girl and woke up in some neighborhood some where in the south side of the city, with zero battery and not a single clue where I was , which i realized when i was outside of her apartment, she had a cute cat and made me tea and some french pastries,I had to ask people where I was, all dressed up in my evening attire in the chilly morning , some old guy started laughing and said he used to be the same as me when he was young, as he knew exactly what i had been doing lately , screwing around. I managed to get to the city center, got one of those fat pizzas we used to love, ate it all, walking around , feeling like i was the king of the world, for a couple of  blissful minutes or probably seconds, i didn’t think about you, us or anything as a matter of fact. As the cold air entered my lungs, peace and happiness filled my mind, ham, mozzarella and tomatoes my belly, the sun was trying to warm me up on that winter morning and as quickly as it had started, everything was over,before it had really began i guess, thoughts of you started racing to my brain, oh we ate that pizza together, hahaha it tastes better than the one inside, oh we kissed in that park, yeah here we took those funny pictures,we used to walk around here, that’s the beer place we would go and try out new stuff, literally what the fuck, I knew i had to leave that shithole of a city and soon, before i had completely lost my mind. I lived in our old home or the den of misery as i liked to call it, just kidding, i called it the frozen basement or something of the sort , until December, then i went to studentski , there i finally found  a great place, i actually felt kinda sad when i left it, it had a great view of the mountain it was so warm and cozy and everything was absolutely brand new, full with young people and bad memories of course, what was i thinking , i went one time next to your old dormitory and almost died, i felt so  fucking bad , but i had to face my demons, challenge them and triumph , didn't work out so well initially   or when Melanie and Aga came and we went to fantastico and the shots i vanished after exactly 35 seconds, i didn’t even say anything to them as i felt like i was about to cry, but yeah back to our old place, it was cold, dark and really fucking sad, my brother stayed with me for some time in the autumn, but just a couple of weeks , I don’t blame him, i would stay in that fucking place either, but the other ones I was looking at weren’t prettier either, but it was convenient for work,gym and i really liked the area, which i explored even more after you left, you have no idea how many cool places i found , that were right under our noses, each and every one ruined of course by the thought at the back of my head - she would have loved this, welp, too bad she ain’t here , everything new became a constant reminder of how many things i wanted to do and go and how we didn’t take advantage of the time we had together to the fullest, but filled it will bullshit, fighting, excuses, toxic people and wasting our time,efforts and energy, when should’ve been having the time of our life , that’s what messed me up the most, even when i came here, to this place, unspoiled by you , Sofia was all defiled with memories of us , every corner,park, street , club, restaurant i go to , we’ve been there and it sickened me so much being in that place, i just couldn’t stay anymore there, as soon as they told me I was going to Dublin i didn’t hesitate for even a fucking second, i left a dancer girl who was sucking and fucking me every day and was at my beck and call , without even blinking or thinking for  a second, poor cunt got her heart broken, but she didn’t mean shit to me, just one more plaything, one more heart i broke trying to fix mine, sad but true, she thought i was getting back with you, hope she didn’t reach out to you or anything as she lost her mind when i told her we are done, talk about crazy and obsessive people , huh. I ditched all my friends and family too, just to come here and escape from you, i remember talking with Aurora and she never believed me how messed up things had gotten between us and always thought i was over exaggerating everything, but when i told her I was going here, she said she was sorry,having realized and told me that i must have really loved you so much , that i now that we weren’t no longer together i would run away and go into self imposed exile, just to get away from you and survive, because at that point it was a question of survival and sanity, not a whim , money or just changing stuff, i was going crazy,my mind is complex and efficient thing and has made me forget most of that crap , but now when i write and try to remember, listening to music from that period and reminiscing i get a glimpse of how bad things were and how fucked up everything had gotten to the point when it was just unbearable. Again this shit is getting way too long and i can go on forever writing about you , us or me, i feel like i can write a book about this, Women and other dumb stuff , i would call it . 

So yeah the last time i saw you was on accident by the way, i was just late for work, but i knew, it was just a feeling deep down inside as i woke up and showered, that i would see you that day, at first when we started talking i felt like my heart was gonna explode, but as soon as i realized you were more nervous than me i relaxed and started being an asshole and wanted to show off to you, how good i was doing without you, i wasn’t , but then again i was, it really depends on how you look at it. We should have went out or at least had another talk before i left, i felt like we didn’t finish things as we should have , we just let everything fall apart, which was not the right thing to do, but for you it was perfect, as you escaped responsibility and the consequences of your actions, I was thinking i should hurt you and take my revenge on you, not physically of course, i have no idea why you would think such a thing, but rather in some other way, but i decided not to, there is no use hurting you for something that I was the consequence of my own actions,  but i had to kill you , emotionally at least in my own head, as this was the only way to survive for me, i killed you, then the memories of you and after that i went after everything connected to us , butchered them too . As i had failed us , I allowed this to happen, it was all my fault ,through my fingers , out of sight, how could i have let you go , cutting corners, turning stones ,but i could only see your ghost. i started living a fast life, to forget my past time, I numb out to escape my feels. Yeah High on  Life by Martin Garrix, Hope by Winona Oak/Chainsmokers and Thunderclouds by LSD (Sia) were my anthem at that time. Also finishing game of thrones without you really sucked , i mean it was so fucking bad, but still that sucked major balls having to watch it alone. We were born to go out there, explore, try and taste new things, our relationship should have been a never ending adventure, as how it started, i don’t know why couldn’t keep that flame up and i don’t think this will ever happen again , not that you were that special or anything , i mean you were in your own way, we all are unique and so on.it just i’m older, i don’t get excited as much , i’m rather emotionally distant, more mature,cold and calculating, I’m not that naive boy full of fire,hope and believing in Hollywood love tales, don’t get me wrong of course, i have become  a lot more optimistic, happy and generally i love and enjoy myself a lot more, i have learned to respect my own well being and i take great care of me,as i can not afford to lose myself ever again, I am very excited about what the future will bring me and whatever it is , good or bad, I am ready to face it, on my own , battle hardened, wiser, been through the fire and the flames, I didn’t let that shit break me , as the pain and heartbreak were so hard, i took all that and grew through it and came out  with a new mindset ready to love and accept,compromise, improve, learn and do better, I will never be that bitter, resentful and spiteful creature or how I was before, never again will i walk that path or fall into that trap  .I lost track of time and i want  end this shit once and for all  - this is just my side of the story, of course, every coin has two sides, if you decided to write yours I would love to read it, there is nothing I enjoy more in this world than people telling me about me, because i have no fucking idea who I am , but yeah small chance of that happening , you prefer to pretend i never existed, but i still made you cum. I used to think that i was damaged so bad and this shit would even further fuck me up to the point ,it would render me irreparable, but it didn’t , i came out of it better than ever and now i feel ready to be with someone new now, as i am quite happy with just myself and  someone else would just enhance  and compliment my life, bringing further joy , rather than being the whole point of it. I think you know that , but I really did love you, never forget it  , probably won’t love anyone as i loved you, i mean all love is relative and different in its own way, but just the way i loved you, unconditionally and pure, knowing all your flaws and shortcomings and what you actually were, that was something , one day you will surely regret loosing or just not having me in your life, as we were not just lover, but best friends  . And this is in no way me trying to reach out to you or getting back together or whatever, I know myself better than that. 

How do we forgive ourselves for all the things we never became.  No man is beyond redemption, Lucius , not even you. Standing in line To see the show tonight And there's a light on Heavy glow By the way I tried to say I'd be there, waiting for Vicky the girl Is singing songs to me Ausculor

[nithyanelson-blog]

I have got a story to tell!!!!

I have got a story to tell!!

I went for a trek recently and as usual uploaded the photos stories in WhatsApp and Insta. One of my best friends insisted me that I should write about the experience in detail since I went with zero company. I'm not so good with words or metaphors but here I'm trying to detail what I've experienced.

Usually, I have the habit of exaggerating everything. But when I decided to write about my trip, I wanted it to be damn honest and the way I experienced it and not for the usual Insta update.

For a long time, I was thinking of going on a solo trip and experience what actually it is. So when my colleague Keerthi who is an avid trekker told me about his experience, I got a spark that I should try this one. It took me around 5 months to convince myself that I will be able to make it and it took another 2 months to convince my paranoid mother why I wanted to do it.

After getting the blessings from Mommy Dearest, the date for the auspicious trek was finalised as Feb 3rd 2019. The plan was to reach Delhi by flight and train to Dehradun from Delhi. So I started to Delhi on 2nd Feb morning. Morning dawned as usual and I got ready as usual and boarded local train to airport as usual except the fact I'm carrying 60 litre bag. It was quite heavy and I still wonder why the hell I packed so much for a trek(First timer- you never know what you'll need :P) I left Singara Chennai with much love from two of my best friends Ani and Vaishu. To be honest, I didn't feel a thing till I landed in Delhi. The moment I got into the Delhi metro station alone, the feeling of doing something for the first time started to kick in. Now many of you think what's fuss about this going alone as if I'm going to Moon or other planet(I feel you guys!) but I'll tell you why. This is not something that happens in our household often. Even I go to Bangalore or any other place for office trips or any other trip for that matter, my mother make sure that I call her before, after and during the journey and book the safest mode of transport suggested by the company itself or being accompanied by a friend or colleague. I won't say that I have never travelled alone then it would be a big load of bull shit but this kind of trip and trek with bunch of strangers in no network area is not a usual one for us.

So I met two of my trekmates in the Delhi railway station and we started our journey together to Dehradun. Around 6:30 in the morning, I reached Dehradun and met the other trekmates who were waiting outside railway station. Then the introductions happened and a guy who looked not more than 20 came and introduced himself as my trek leader and he is Himanshu. Haha I was shocked. I had to check twice whether he was the trek leader for real. Then our journey to the village of Sankri began. Sankri is the base camp for our trek. It is around 180 kms from Dehradun. 10 of us got into tempo Traveller and started our journey to the base camp. On the way we had our dinner and lunch.

I still wonder why did I order Dosa in the pahadi restaurant. It was so worse all I wanted to do was to take a flight back to Chennai and have a Saravana Bhavan Dosa. And yeah I don't blame anybody. On the way I saw the glimpses of snow and Yamunotri ranges. Man I was damn excited for this trip!

At around 5, we reached our base camp and got settled in the rooms provided. I explored the village for some time and went to the temple and prayed without knowing who's the God🤦 Back in the camp, all the prerequisites for the trek(medical history, documents) were checked by our trek leader and he started the briefing for trek. We gave a brief introduction about ourselves and it reminded me of my college first day. Then I was so nervous but now it was so fun. I was smiling for no reason. 20 of trekmates came from different cities of India. One big gang from Bangalore, one couple from Mumbai to celebrate anniversary, one couple to celebrate honeymoon, one engaged couple, a father daughter duo from Kolkata, guys from Rajasthan, Mumbai. It was a mix of everything. Once the briefing was done, I went out to have my dinner and felt the first cruel chill of the trek. To be honest, I have never been in a place where the temperature is below 18° C. That too because this year we had actual winter in Chennai. So when you put me in the 4° C, obviously I would shiver and freeze. I was about to cry when I couldn't feel my hands. Himanshu smiled and said 'Hota hai hota hai'. Adeii!! All I wanted to do was to smack his face at the very moment. Then I grabbed the hot tea vessel and had some food for the growling stomach and retired to bed soon. I couldn't help imagining how I'm going to survive for the next 4 days. Truth to be told, I was excited for the trek and panicked for the cold. Somehow I was drawn into a dreamless sleep.

The next day I got up to the commanding voice of Himanshu. This time he wanted to check blood pressure at 6:30 in the morning. Phewww!! There gone my sleep with him. We got ready and had our breakfast and all set to go for the trek. On the first day we had to cross 2.5 kms. But believe me when I tell you it's not just 2.5 kms. When you ascend the mountain, you would feel it requires double or triple the energy to cross than the one guides have mentioned.

After getting the do's and dont's from Himanshu, we started our trek following the trail. We would have walked hardly for 500 m , then it was just snow. I came to know that this year the snowfall was very heavy and usually on this trek we get to see snow only on 3rd day but this time we got it 1st day itself. I was quite happy and excited and got into my usual jumpy mode to see the snow.

I had to pinch myself to make sure that I was not dreaming. I was walking on the 3 feet snow and all I could see was just snow. I played and played and played throughout the trail and fatigue started showing it's face before I could reach the 1st campsite. With much struggle and constant Chalo chalo echoes from the guides Sunil Bhai and Upi Bhai, I reached the camp.

It was such a mesmerizing sight! One side its a valley of snow and other side stood the glorious pine trees bathed in snow yet giving the majestic looks. We have got two local dogs to play with and it accompanied us to other camp sites as well. We played mafia, cards, some funny games for introductions and had a blast on the first day. It felt so very good to get rid of my inhibitions and be able to mingle with a group about whom I knew nothing of. Once the dinner done, some of us decided to go for star gazing and the argument, discussion about various topics during star gazing we had, are something that's gonna stay with me forever.

Second day dawned little cloudy and sun was not ready to come out and meet us. Today we had to cross 4-5 kms. There were three steep ascends in the trail and I was dreaded and excited as usual. But it was much better than I expected and was one of the firsts to reach base camp. On the way we had so much fun and as for me, 2nd day was the best. I sang the loudest on the way and threw snow at everyone I saw and we played with the fresh snow on the whole trail.

I stopped at so many places and wondered whether I'm in heaven. The moment I saw the frozen lake Juda ka thalaab, I fell in love almost immediately. How can everything be so pristine white like there is no hint of cruelty or bad vibes in it! Words fail me to describe the magnificence of the nature. No adjectives are enough to express the beauty of it. All I could do was to be in the moment and enjoyed it till lasts.

The same joyous mood stayed for the complete day. Even in the campsite, we played games but this time, on the snow. I was so carefree, and didn't have any worry about anything in the world. I made snowman(with huge help from Rahul), engaged in snow fight, played so many games. It was just merry making time for us.

After the two days of trek, I was confident that I could manage to reach the summit. So it was never a question of whether I could do or not.

Himanshu told that we would be starting at 5 in the morning for the summit. Around 11 pm, I woke up to the butterflies in my stomach. I thought it was the excitement and nervousness of climbing the peak. But later I found it was the butterflies of sickness. I threw up twice and Himanshu was called and he gave medicines and clearly told me that he wouldn't allow me for summit if my condition remains the same. So I prayed all the gods to keep me fit and healthy just for a day.

Around 3:30 am, we got the woke up call and we were welcomed with snowfall and bone breaking cold. I hoped that weather and my health get better before trek get started. An hour passed with the refreshments and nokjhoks. Weather got much better than me. I was feeling breathlessness for walking from my tent to dining area. Himanshu told me that I'm not going anywhere and asked me to take rest. After much pleading and him not wanting a debate in the morning, I started the trek. I took my father's muffler with me and keep on talking with it as if with my father. I keep on telling 'Appa epdiyadhu poidanum'. I pretty much managed half way then suddenly I started feeling nausea and was about to faint. I had to walk to a hut which was 100m away where I could take rest and start again but I couldn't even reach there. At that moment I realised I'm not gonna make it to summit and I failed. I informed my guides and Himanshu that I'm not coming and they can go ahead. I sat in the hut for 20 minutes feeling dejected and listening to a guide and other fellows who decided not to go to summit for various reasons. I listened and listened and suddenly I couldn't any more. I came out controlling my tears and looked at the majestic Kedarkantha peak for one last time and started to run to the base camp. Alone. Defeated. I blamed myself, my father, my health, Himanshu, anything and everything that came on my mind. And then I stopped and took a look around me. It was just snow and mountains looking at me. I sat there on the snow and started thinking why I failed. Then I realized I triumphed the moment I took the TT to Sankri with 10 odd strangers. It was never about the climbing the summit at 13000 ft. It was about me coming out of my comfort zone which I have drawn for myself. I still remember when I was roaming on the streets of Delhi, I gave a thought of going back to Chennai without even showing up in Dehradun. But I came to Sankri and for 3 days I was among the strangers doing things which I have never done in my life and lived my life like never before and survived -20° C. This is the success for me and this is what I wanted. If I climbed the summit, that would definitely been a cherry on the top but I can't sulk over it and not seeing the happiness and fulfillment I got every other minute over the past 3 days. I have never seen snow in my life but here I'm walking on the snow and couldn't see anything other than snow and beautiful ranges. Why would I worry for something which I can't control?? With determined mind, I started walking to the base camp. This time contented and happy. I danced, I sang, I laughed, I played, I talked with the mountains and I slid down the snow. Simply I lived in the moment and enjoyed the time. With the whole hearted happiness, I reached the base camp, gulped the medicines and waited for others to join. I heard the stories of people who climbed the summit and to my surprise I didn't regret the decision of coming down. We stayed in the pahad for two more days and enjoyed the bliss and started our way back to Dehradun bidding good byes to our guides, Himanshu and the black dog who accompanied me throughout the trek! Being emotional type that I'm, I shed two or three tears when Himanshu hugged and asked me to come back to finish the summit.

When coming back, all the memories of the last 5 days rushed in my mind and probably the precious memories of my life. I'm sure I will go back to see the mountains again. May be they wanted me to come again and that could be the reason for my sickness 😝 (When you're are so optimistic, you can say anything)

This 5 day trek was not just another vacation for me. It was the best time and there is a feeling of content and self realisation! I realised it's ok to give yourself a break and live the life a little at times!!

While we were on the trek, everyone had a story to tell. When they looked at me, I told them with much embarrassment that I don't have any story. Rahul cheered me up and said 'Now you have got a story'.

And yeah now I have got a story to tell everyone💛

[milantilmarch]

Happy 1 Month Anniversary Milano

Cheers to Italy & my beautiful city I am so fortunate to call home until March! Today marks exactly 1 month that I have spent in Milan

Here I want to reflect on what the first month has really been like. And share some photos to my very photo-less blog. 

So, here we go!

I left the United States from JFK on Saturday, January 6th. I had taken a direct flight to Malpensa Milano with my soon to be roommate in Milan who I had met at our gate. She and I flew one of the most horrendous flights. Long story short, everything that went wrong could have gone wrong, but thankfully the flight was safe & our plane didn't fall out of the sky. 

Our flight was an over night one. I couldn't sleep. Sure I slept an hour here and there, but it wasn't an honest rest. We landed at Malpensa International 3 hours later than our scheduled arrival. Had gotten picked up by the driving arrangements courtesy of our housing, and had gotten checked into our apartment around noon Sunday January 7th. 

So, landing on a Sunday sounded like a great idea. We could hit the ground running Monday morning, beginning our crash course of learning italian for 2 weeks, spend the whole day getting settled in, unpacked, all that. Come to realize and experience first hand that Sundays in Italy are sacred. Yes I understood that Italy was a religious country, but not so religious that everything was literally closed. After unpacking and settling in a little, my roommate and I were quite famished from our disastrous flight, and went on a hunt for some food and groceries to stock our fridge. Obviously, we didn't know where ANYTHING was. And we also didn't know that EVERYTHING would be closed. I won't ever forget, aimlessly walking around the areas nearby our apartment, searching for an open restaurant, an open anything just to get something to eat. We ended up finding a spot, and asked the cashier where the nearest grocery store was to go shop at. After a 10 minuet walk in the father direction of our apartment, we walked through a very damp and wet city, realizing that Sundays are a day of rest, recover, and worship in this country.

Got home, and began to prepare for the week. We had 2 weeks of survival Italian courses at a well known language school called Linguadue. I had taken Italian 101 at my college all fall semester prior to leaving, so I knew the very VERY basics. Combating jet lag, adjusting to a new city, and wishing my mom was here for this entire experience, naturally resulted in me skipping a handful of those courses. 

My first 2 weeks in Milano were quite grueling. Our schedule was language class from 9-12 with a 30 min. break, then class with the chair of the fashion department from Buffalo State from 1-5. I really enjoyed class with my professor Dr. Boorady, much more than my language classes at Linguadue. Our school was in a beautiful & perfectly positioned location of Milan. Corso Buenos Aires. 

We did so much sight seeing, so much exploring, chased the tail end of mens fashion week, and so much more that is a huge blur in my memory now (thank god I took pictures of everything I did). We visited various shopping districts, between luxury and lower end brands, different neighborhoods of Milan, sooo many breath taking cathedrals, and more. Since there were only 3 fashion students from Buffalo State here doing internships, we were a small intimate group. 2 design students and 1 merchandising student aka me. And we really made our own class schedule every day for those first 2 weeks. We were given a course syllabus and journal. We have a project due at the end of our internships when we return to the states. And the journal is for documenting everything we see, feel, experience, smell, eat, learn, obtain inspiration, you name it. I actually carry it around everywhere. And almost have used it every single day, event into the first couple weeks of my internship. Sometimes I’ll take it out at a restaurant or cafe and just write. Draw. Jot down whatever. We have to hand the journal in when we get back, then well get it back once Dr. B is done grading our assignments. I’m really looking forward to holding onto that journal for ever. 

We visited so many museums, so many window displays, so many libraries, and I’m just going to let the pictures speak for themselves here.  My next post will be about the start of my internships and adventures in-between shifts. Enjoy!

CiaoCiao!

[indochine-moto]

It started with three

About three weeks ago I was on my way through the alley to head to the local convenience store. As I exited the alley I saw three kittens eating fish out of a flattened basket on top of a 2 meter high stone wall. As I approached a local woman hit the basket with her hand, and one of the kittens flew out of the basket and fell to the ground below. That is the first time I met the little white kitten pictured just below. I call him Kasper.

The little one called Kasper. He would be dead within a week of this photo being taken.

When I arrived back at our apartment I told Shalma about the kittens. The next day she would get to meet them for the first time.

When we went down into the alley way there were only two kittens there. They chased after us, frantically meowing. It was Kasper and the kitten who we would later bestow with the moniker of Scruffles. We felt bad for the beasts and went to the convienience store and bought them a can of cat food. They began to gorge themselves and Scruffles would not let Kasper near the food. Below are pictures of our meeting with these little ones.

  Scruffles the first time we really met him

Feeding Kasper and Scruffles

After our meeting with Scruffles and Kasper, Shalma and I went around the corner to a Lebanese restaurant and cafe called Aroma and met another kitten living in a plant pot. He had been living at the cafe for several days. He was extremely skinny and unwell. The owner of the cafe later told us that the cat had accepted some food and water the first day he arrived at their business but refused to eat or drink for several days afterward.

  This little black cat was one of the sweetest things I have come across in this world. So neglected by life, and without a mother, he was magically full of love. He made quiet meows from his resting place in the planter. I peered over the table at him. He wanted so badly to love and be loved (yeah, this is an anthropomorphism and I don’t care) that he jumped onto the table, inspected my beer, then eventually settled, curled up like a furry snail shell, next to Shalma’s hip. We kind of wanted to give him loves, but he was so dirty we feared what kind of diseases he might share with us.

Cambodia: A cruel world for domesticated animals

We had no intention of giving these cats a home. We had already witnessed pretty terrible animal cruelty in this country. We had seen live chickens tied together by their broken legs, pigs in tiny cages on the back of 125cc motor scooters, presumably headed to slaughter. Aside from the more abhorrent things we witnessed, we simply saw neglect. And who could blame people who make less than $120 a month for being neglectful of the world around them that they are powerless to influence?

Shalma and I accepted that this was the life that animals must live in Cambodia; this was their lot. In that acceptance, we decided to help just a little and fed the two cats another time. We figured the restaurant cat would be taken care of, although Shalma had tried to feed him and he had refused food. I think we both put him out of our mind and began to focus on our little alley cats. After all, they were the critters on our front stoop.

Kasper went missing

A few days after we fed the cats Kasper seemed to vanish. He was gone. Baby kittens easily become victims of predation, often from feral dogs, but sometimes from wild animals as well. They also have a great deal of trouble regulating their body heat and frequently die of exposure even in a tropical environment such as this. It was the peak of the rainy season, so it may be that Kasper got drenched in water and died of cold. Shalma  and I wanted to believe that he was somehow rescued, but we have failed to delude ourselves. I really liked that cat, and I am sorry he is dead. Scruffles was now all alone in the alley.

Scruffles all alone in the alley after losing his brother

  About a week after our first meeting wth the kittens we walked by the restaurant and saw the little black kitten. He looked dead, like a carcass, a hollow shell that shouldn’t remain living. His eyes were swollen almost shut and appeared to popping out of the sockets in his emaciated head. There was a thick film, and he was essentially blind. He responded neither to sound nor touch. This was one sick animal, a truly pitiful sight. We went home and neither of us were happy about the state of suffering we saw this poor creature in.

Shalma was almost frantic in her sadness and concern. She asked if she could bring him upstairs right then and there and I told her that I thought it would not be a good idea. As much as I would like to lie, I shall refrain; neither of us had a dry eye. We were both profoundly affected by the suffering we saw. Shalma asked if we could take him to an animal hospital in the morning. I agreed. Then, in the most solemn of moments, Shalma exclaimed, “I will go down and get him first thing in the morning!” She wasn’t joking.

Shalma tossed and turned throughout the night. She was absolutely unsettled by the plight of this kitten. I hardly got a wink of sleep due to her restlessness.  Needless to say, Shalma is really special to me largely because of her compassion. True to her word, she was  up at six in the morning. She dragged me out of bed and we went down the seven flights of stairs and around the corner to look for the little black cat. He was nowhere to be found, and I realized that I still had not opened my right eye yet. The left side of my brain must have remained asleep throughout the whole ordeal!

We went back upstairs and had a couple more hours of restless sleep. We went back downstairs at about 9:30 and found him curled up in a little ball on the pavement. He looked even worse than he had the day before. It was almost unbelievable that an animal could look worse and still remain alive. The security guard of the little market next to the restaurant told us that he had taken the cat inside during the night. Shalma picked the cat up and wrapped him in her favorite NASA t-shirt. I called him Odin, for the Nordic god who was once known for healing the sick. We piled into a tuk tuk and headed for the other side of town.

As you can see, the cat is uncomfortable in the tuk tuk and Shalma is incredibly concerned

It soon became apparent that our tuk tuk driver was from somewhere out in the provinces and had no idea where he was going even though we had showed him on a map. He also spoke very little English, so as Shalma was trying to keep the cat in the bag I was leaned over and giving directions to a place I had never been before. Eventually, we wound up at the vet, and the tuk tuk driver let us out. We soon realized that the office was closed even thought their posted hours said they were open. I opened the security gate and called out for someone. A woman (who also didn’t speak English) came and told us as well as she could to come back later. I really need to learn Khmer; life would be a lot easier! Eventually the woman got the vet (who turned out to be her daughter) on the phone and she told us we could leave Odin for the time being. Shalma and I needed to decompress and decided to walk two hours to get home.

We felt pretty satisfied having hopefully saved Odin’s life. At that point we kind of imagined he would have a 30% chance to live if he was lucky. We sort of resigned ourselves to that. When we arrived home, we walked past little Scruffles. Shalma had awoken to her affection for baby cats and wanted to sit with him for a while.

Shalma cuddling Scruffles for the first time, still wearing the backpack we had just used to transport Odin to the vet.

As you can see in the picture above, Shalma is welling up with emotion. However, at this point we felt like we had done enough to save a single cat. Scruffles was still destined (in our minds) to remain an outdoor critter. All we could do is hope that he survived. From what we had seen of him he was a hardy beast that could handle the outdoors better than the competition. However, he was sweet and anxious for attention. He meowed repeatedly and ran toward us every time we saw him. Nonetheless I was anxious to go back upstairs, and Shalma told me she wanted to spend more time with Scruffles but that she would follow me up shortly.

The first thing Shalma told me when she got upstairs was that a woman shooed her off just as I left her with Scruffles. Shalma told me that the woman said, “Take him!” The local people living in modest apartments in the alley below us have suffered from stray cats. They are little more than a nuisance as they keep people awake all night with their incessant meowing through through their thin walls. The cats also create a competition for food. Few Khmer people will take in a cat like Scruffles when caring for the kitten may cost them nearly what they make in a month. The cats are little more than annoying objects and only useful as rat killers.

Shalma was disturbed well into the evening thinking about Scruffles. She told me that she wanted to go downstairs and check on him. I tried to convince her not to do so. I told her that she would annoy the local people by fawning over this animal. Sure, I felt the same way as she did; I was also concerned. That didn’t mean that I wanted to interrupt anyone’s lives. For poor people living in the tiny alleyway apartments, the alley itself acts as a playground, a place to do laundry, a place for business, and a community center. I felt we had no right to invade that as foreigners. In my mind, we should try to create the least amount of fuss possible. Eventually, Shalma went downstairs anyway.

I got a little worried after waiting for more than an hour for her to come back. I tried to call her on my phone, but she wasn’t taking my calls. Eventually she answered and told me that she was coming up shortly. When she did finally come up she brought a surprise with her: Scruffles!!!

To be honest, I wasn’t particularly happy to see that Shalma had brought wild street fauna into our home. My first response was to ask, “Don’t you think this is something we should have discussed?” That is when she told me that she went downstairs to find boys playing catch with the frightened kitten. Shalma had made them stop and took the kitten from them. That is when she met a Khmer woman in the alley who had actually rescued several cats herself and explained to Shalma how most people here don’t care about the cats and would never spend such a large portion of their income on them. The woman explained that her own mother could live off of less than two dollars a day, which is much less than it costs to take care of all the needs of a cat.

Anyway, Shalma gave Scruffles a bath so he was less of a wild animal. In the picture below you can see a Scruffles who (as it turns out) does not enjoy a nice relaxing evening in the bath. In fact, he doesn’t seem to be relaxed by it at all for some reason.

As you can see Shalma missed his nose, and little Scruffles was pretty annoyed by this bath because nobody told him what a bath is. Admittedly, baths tend not to be particularly warm here in Cambodia, especially for cats. I have yet to be in an apartment that has warm running water in the bathroom sink, and even the showers don’t quite cut it if you’re looking for anything truly hot and steamy. At any rate, Scruffles eventually dried and settled right into being a cute little cuddly thing. You can witness this in the pictures below.

It is difficult to explain why, but Shalma and I were emotionally exhausted at this point. There were a lot of tears over both cats. We didn’t want to take in these cats, and in fact had zero intention of doing so. When we first took in Odin we talked about getting him fixed up just enough to release him back into the wild. We were realizing that this wasn’t sufficient. Our hearts just wouldn’t let us do that. Making matters worse, there is really no place that can take cats at the moment. Resources are limited and it was peak cat season. Making matters worse, there was recently a massive evacuation of a famous local housing project called The White Building that is being razed. This exposed countless feral animals that have left the few shelters at capacity. You can read a little bit about this den of drugs, prostitution, and squalor in the hyperlink.

Taking the Scruff to the vet

It became clear that we had to look after these cats against our will until we could find them a forever home or figure out what the hell we were going to do with them. Shalma and I could not take Scruffles to the same vet that we took Odin to because it just happened to be closed, so we took him to a wonderful place called Animal Mama here in Phnom Penh. There we me the couple who run it, Yulia and Darren, two extremely lovely people who kind of got caught up the way we did, and ended up opening an animal clinic.

Inside their office Darren was telling us about the dogs wandering freely in the lobby. One was rescued from becoming soup, another was a beautiful Belgian Malinois that was once a de-mining dog, saving people’s lives only to eventually be abandoned. One dog really touched my heart; his name was Hercules. I was never sure what kind of dog Hercules was because he was tortured by sociopaths beyond recognition. He had his lips and nose cut off. They cut off his penis and many of his toes as well. The would-be coup de gras was when they threw him into boiling water, which has left him without skin on much of his body. And yet he persisted and survived to be the sweetest and most loving animal to us, humans, who do not deserve his love and affection. Dude, there are a lot of tears, man. This is actually hard to write about.

Making friends with a retired mining dog at Animal Mama Phnom Penh

Making friends with a retired demining dog at Animal Mama

Getting the kittens back

We left Odin at his vet for six days and Scruffles stayed at Animal Mama for five. When we got them back they were both doing better but Odin was having a lot more trouble. They both have worms pretty badly, but Odin was far sicker and much more infected. We ended up taking Odin back to the vet for an additional three days before getting him back.

We picked Odin back up just a week ago. I started cooking fresh chicken from the market for them. I boil it, strip it off the bone, and then chop it up finely. The fresh chicken still gets them very excited, and they are both putting on weight, Odin a lot slower than Scruffles. Scruffles is really rounding out nicely. Here are a couple pictures taken of him last night:

He’s rounding out and looking like a cartoon cat. Unfortunately, Odin has a scorching case of ringworm and will be back at the vet for the next seven days. On the upside, Odin has been gaining weight too and has began to jump, meow, run, play, eat a bunch, and use the cat box.

Our next course of action

This has been a pretty emotional trail to wander down, and it has been a lot of work. We are still trying to maintain the health of the cats. At the time of this writing Odin is back at the vet. He had a considerable amount of ringworm, and will be treated around the clock for the next seven days. We will have both cats vaccinated and they will receive final doses of deworming medications. Hopefully they will be at the pinnacle of health within the next week or so.

Our next goal is to get the kittens adopted. This is a task far more easily said than done. The chances of adopting the cats out here in Phnom Penh are somewhere close to a million to one. Our hands are kind of tied to the point that we can either take them to the US or release them back into the wild. Our apartment is not equipped to keep them long term. We cannot even open our windows here in the tropics because nobody puts screens on windows in this country. We have already had Scruffles attempt suicide, but Shalma rescued him.

We have one friend in Oakland who would like to take in Odin, and we would like nothing more than to place him with her. As for Scruffles, I am sure that we could easily find him a home because he is so sweet, funny, and incredibly affectionate. Plus, most of the cats here have weirdly short tails (Khmer cats are kind of their own breed) and I am sure someone would enjoy taking in such a special looking cat who really had no other option.

We know there are a lot of animals to be rescued in the US, so I can understand why it seems odd that we would send more animals there. But these animals literally have no chance to have a long healthy life here. I honestly never wanted to do any of this stuff; I feel like it just happened to us, and I am not the type of person things just happen to. We have put a lot of time and money into the care of these cats because we really felt compelled beyond responsibility. Shalma is thinking of setting up a gofundme account to aid in transporting the kittens and assure their medical costs in the near future can be covered. I am really hopeful that we can get them both to the US. It would be kind of a miracle for them.

If anyone would like to take in Scruffles or help out with transportation or anything, please do not hesitate to contact me.

  A Tale of Two Kitties: Scruffles and Odin It started with three About three weeks ago I was on my way through the alley to head to the local convenience store.