#i went on smugglers run 10 TIMES last time I went and STILL felt like I didn’t get to hear all the queue dialouge

[bumpscosity]

It’s okay star tours will have its moment after they add all the new destinations. We’ll see 60+ min waits soon enough

[ameliajessicawilliamspond]

PART 1

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"Where is this blasted thing?" Luke complained, opening the map for the tenth time in the last 10 minutes.

"Same distance as the last time you checked the map." Din mused. Luke pursed his lips and closed the map, pulling his coat tighter around himself. He and Luke had done many missions together, both searching for what the remnants of the fallen Empire wanted with Grogu and the Jedi, as well as Luke's never ending search for more information on the strange ancient religion.

"You alright?" Din asked. Luke had been fidgety and testy the whole trip to Kajimi and had become downright orny ever since they stepped foot on the planet.

Luke huffed in frustration, shoving his nose into his scarf. "I'm not a fan of the cold." he mumble from beneath the fabric.

"Yeah I picked up on that." Din said, an amused huff escaping his lips.

Luke shot the Mandalorian a hard side glance, like a teenager throwing a fit. Luke always kept himself so stoic and distant, a protective mask from everyone around him. Seeing it slip because of some cold weather made his heart do a funny little flip. Yet the other side of him knew it obviously upset the Jedi so he stopped pressing him. He slipped his own scarf off and wrapped it around the jedi's neck. Luke looked at him incredulously but the Mandalorian just shrugged. "I run warm."

A while on -and lots of huffing and puffing from the Jedi later- they finally began to approach their destination.

"The holocron should be inside this cavern." Luke mumbled from beneath the scarves, nose burried in the holomap.

"Waterfall." Din corrected.

"...Cavern." Luke repeated, not looking up.

"Yeah...under a waterfall." Din said, pointing ahead. Luke finally looked up and saw what Din meant. a cavernous mouth to a cave, beneath a huge, freezing waterfall, billowing into a cold, deep lake.

Luke's blue eyes bulged. "Kriff."

The pair snuck up the side of the embankment with just enough distance to be able to avoid falling into freezing water below.

Luke hit a slippery patch amd let out a yelp as his foot slipped. Din reacted quickly, yanking the Jedi back up to the snowy embankment, the momentum putting them nearly nose to nose with each other. Din's breath seemed to catch in his throat as Luke sucked in a breath himself, his bright eyes locked with Din's visor.

"No falling behind." Din said, shaking Luke from whatever stupor just grasped him. The jedi nodded and they pressed forward, carefully approaching the ice cold waterfall.

"Seems there's no going around it." Din said, pressing forward but Luke grabbed his arm.

"Wait." he said, voice demanding yet gentle as the jedi stepped in front of him, eyes rolling back in his head. His hand shot up, palm open toward the falls.

Din stared in awe as the waters parted like a curtain. "Go." Luke said, eyes still closed. Din slipped around him and jumped into the hidden cave. Luke followed like a blind man, hand extended and eyes closed, but shoulders squared with determination, confidence in each step. Once in, he finally opened his eyes and dropped his hand. The waters slammed shut behind them.

Luke spotted Din staring, unmoving at him. "What?" He asked, slightly bashful.

What could he say? He was in awe of Luke and his abilities? Luke always surprised him? He was so beyond what Din could ever be himself? Luke was...Luke was amazing. "I wish you could teach me that." Is what he ended up settling on.

Luke let out a small laugh, lips parting into a smile and despite the cold, Din felt a warmth spread through his chest. "Come on," Luke said, taking the lead. "The holocron should be straight ahead."

They finally were right on top of where the holocron should be. But in its place was a giant hole in the side of the cave wall where it had been hidden. Luke dropped his head. "No..." he whispered to the ground.

"Smugglers or pirates, most likely. The Spice Runners of Kajimi are in this area." Din said, examining the square hole.

"They probably sold it by now." Luke said, arms flailing in an 'of course' sort of gesture. "Its long gone, probably has been for a long time."

"Not nessesarily. These are new markings on this. It would have been within the last week they found this. " Din said, trying to ease the already frustrated Jedi's mind. Luke rubbed his forehead. "If we find their camp we may be able to relocate the device."

"...Alright Fine." Luke said, biting his cheek, clearly irritated. "We're never getting off this frozen rock." He mumbled, rubbing his arms as be began to march back to the mouth of the waterfall.

"Hey," Din called, rushing to block the jedi's path. Luke avoided his helmet's gaze as Din finally grasped him by the shoulders. "Luke, talk to me."

Luke fidgeted in his grasp, looking anywhere but his visor. His eyes finally settled on the destroyed hole where the holocron had been, eyes distant.

"I'm from a desert planet." He began. "Tattooine."

"I'm familiar." Din said, earning a slightly surprised glance from the jedi.

"I'm...I'm already not used to the cold. And then later on in the war we were stationed on Hoth." Luke shifted from one foot to the other, obviously contimplating if he wanted to continue. "I was out on last patrol when I was attacked by a Wampa."

"You were attacked by a Wampa and survived?" Din questioned.

Luke just shrugged, and Din could tell that, somehow, being attacked by a kriffing Wampa wasn't even at the worst part of this story. "I escaped, but by the time I did it was approaching nightfall and the winds had picked up. There was snow everywhere, all I could see was white in front of me and I...I was so cold..." Luke pulled out of Din's grasp and turned away. "I fell. I fell and didn't get back up. Ben wanted me to go to Dagobah but... I was so sure I was going to die there." Din stepped forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Han found me. Stuffed me in his dead Tauntaun to keep warm while he built a shelter. I smelled like rotting flesh for a week...and..." Luke sniffed, pulling himself together. "...And the next day the Empire attacked and I got shot down. My co-pilot Dak didn't make it... I lost a good friend." Luke said, looking at Din, eyes distant.

Din spun Luke around and pulled him in for a tight hug. "I'm sorry. That sounds awful." He offered.

Luke tensed for a moment before melting into the hug. They stayed like that for a long time before Luke finally broke the silence. "You do run warm." He mumbled into his shoulder.

Din laughed. "Come on, let's find those blasted smugglers and get off this rock."

They went back to the cave entrance, Luke reaching foward, parting the waters once again. Din stepped through before Luke's eyes snapped opened and yelled, "No, Din, WAIT--!"

Before Luke could finish, something wrapped around his leg and yanked him into the lake below.

Din sunk below the water, waterlogged vision spotting a large monster with at least 5 tentacles keeping him below the surface. He reached for his blaster, shooting at the monster. It made a noise and the grip on his leg disappeared. Din swam with all his might back to the top, grabbing on to Luke's extended hand.

Another tentacle shot up, latching around his torso and pulling him below once again. Above him, he saw a green laser appear as the jedi ignited his lightsaber as another tentacle shot up above the water toward him. He sliced at it, making the thing bellow once again. The grip on Din loosened but not enough for him to pull out of the tight grasp.

A splash from above caught the Mandalorian's attention. Luke was swimming right toward the creature. Din squirmed and fought to free his arms so he could shoot it again but he was weakening by the second. Through greying vision he watched the Jedi reach forward and touch the monster's head, the scarf Dinnhad given him dangling from his back pocket. Din felt the grip around him loosen too late as water filled his lungs and his vision went dark.

The next thing he knew he was back on the bank of the lake. Luke was above him, coat missing, soaking wet, and leaning over his him, lips having just left his own. Din thought he had to be dreaming or dead until he felt the aggressive shoving on his chest. His ringing ears picked up on Luke begging him to breathe.

He tried to inhale, but instead was greeted with a coughing fit, water spilling from his lips before finally managing a small, shaky breath.

"Oh thank the Force." Luke breathed out, head dropping. "We need to get you somewhere warm." Luke said, pulling the coat he once wore up Din's chest, tucking it around him.

Before Din could attempt to object, something grabbed the Jedi's attention. His head whipped to the side and his eyes widened. "Kriff!" Luke shoved Din's helmet back on him before throwing his arms up in a defensive stance, hand shaking violently. "Please, we don't want any trouble. He hurt! He needs to go somewhere warm! Please!" Luke begged, but his pleas seemed to land of deaf ears. Hand decended on the Jedi and pulled him from where he kneeled next to the Mandalorian. "No, no!!" Luke yelled as he was dragged away from Din's side.

Din shifted, rolling onto his stomach, trying to call for Luke but instead earning himself another coughing fit. From his new position he could see Luke strugglnng witn a large group of people. Din couldn't tell if Luke was holding back because he didn't want to reveal his identity to these scoundrels or because he was still trying to beg them for help, but either way the large group finally overpowered the jedi. They pinned his arms out wide and his head was shoved violently to the side, a needle shoved into his neck. Luke tensed before slumping in their grasp. Din tried to reach for something, anything, any weapon but couldn't find the strength to even lift his hand.

"Leave that one. He's as good as dead." The group laughed.

Din watched as Luke was carried away like he was nothing more than stolen loot.

"L...Luke..." Din managed, before his frozen body slipped into unconsciousness.

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REQUESTED TAGGED: @theonlyredcar

Comment below if you would like to be tagged in part 2!

[awesomerextyphoon]

Madripoor Musings

Summary: You’re undercover as Zemo’s Sugar Baby while you’re with the team in Madripoor. You seem to like the position a little too much and Sam gets jealous.

Parings: Sam Wilson x Black Female Reader, slight Zemo x Black Female Reader

Word Count: 1,685

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Warnings: FATWS Spoilers, Smut, Oral (f receiving), Light Choking, Angst, Semi-Public Smut,  Daddy Kink, and Slight Emotional Manipulation

A/N: Ran into another writer’s block so I’m using prompts from this list to get myself out of it. Enjoy!

Back to Masterlist

“So, are we good to go, everyone?”

The four of you were jet-setting in Zemo’s private plane to Madripoor to get info on this new version of super solider serums. Zemo came up with the idea of having Sam go undercover as the West African weapons dealer/smuggler, Smiling Tiger. Bucky returned to his ‘Winter Soldier’ mode and you were to become ‘Miss Erina’, Zemo’s new arm candy/Sugar Baby.

Your backstory was simple: you’ve been with Zemo since before he went to prison living in his many estates and luxurious apartments.

It took some time for everyone to get into character. Sam tried and failed to pull off a Nigerian accent while Bucky kept up his hard glare and glower routine. You and Zemo put on the perfect couple facade with the both of you placing semi-sensual touches on each other’s bodies and showering each other with (sometimes lewd) compliments.

“Oh, thank you for the necklace, Daddy!” you gushed loving the way Sam was fuming. Bucky almost broke his character trying not to snicker.

“Nothing’s too much for you, котёнок/kotyonok (kitten).” Zemo mused as he offered you a coy smirk and leaned in for a kiss.

You giggled as he placed kisses along your jawline, neck, and collarbone.

“We’ll continue this later, киса,” Zemo whispered while winking at Sam.

 ––––

 Madripoor was amazing, to say the least. It was a cyberpunk wet dream with bright lights at various angles and two distinct levels giving off a Black Lagoon/Blade Runner/Ghost in Shell vibe.

It felt like your kind of town.

It’s been like this since the Snap. Your older sister died in a car crash right after Thanos’ victory. Your father and uncle were blipped into the ocean dying instantly. Nowadays, your mother could barely talk to you without crying.

Natasha was dead and Steve fucked off to the 1940s to crush English pussy. Sharon got branded an enemy of the US Government and was forced to run. Some dumbass cracker (you will NEVER acknowledge his name) was given Sam’s rightful shield and mantle of Captain America by the craven, racist US government and had the NERVE to tell you to stay out of his way.

To top it all off, you found out that the US military tortured a man for 30 YEARS in order to ‘make the perfect soldier’.

You were finally in a place that matched how you felt.

“We’re heading into Low Town. Be on your guard, everyone.” Zemo warned as he lifted your chin and kissed you again. He insisted on walking towards your escort.

“Why do I have to wear this again? I look like a pimp!” Sam whined while looking sexy AF in his Ankara (I’m saying it’s Ankara) suit.

“Don’t mind him, Daddy. Sam has no sense of style.” You joked snuggling closer to Zemo.

“We’re not at the club yet.” Sam pointed out, vexed at the way you were clinging onto Zemo.

“We cannot let our guard down, Wilson. Selby has eyes everywhere.”

Sam relented and tried not to look your way. It was tempting due to you wearing an amazing Burgundy Fashion Nova Sugar Free Mini Dress with Black Bow Whoa Pumps. Your curves were out, but not in a shameless manner.

You had class, yet you were a tease.

 ––––

 The ride to Selby’s was nothing short of thrilling.

You were right about the overall aesthetic. Madripoor definitely has the ‘dystopian punk’ feel on lock.

“You look radiant, котёнок.” Zemo cooed as you kissed his neck liking how smiled at Sam and inwardly cackled at Sam’s glower.

 –––––

 Several men and some women moved to make a pass at you on the way to the club. A few audacious men learned that you were Zemo’s the hard way, Bucky made sure of it.

You had to mask your displeasure at how many people were shooting appreciative glances at Sam.

You just hoped this escapade would end soon.

 ––––––

 Zemo advised everyone to aim straight for the bar wrapping his arm around your waist as he strode into the club. Sam and Bucky followed suit slipping into their Apex and Winter modes respectively.

The bartender licked his lips as he looked you over, “Thought Selby told ya you ain’t welcomed here, Zemo.”

Zemo raised an eyebrow, “I know, but this is important,” he eyed several bouncers making their way towards your group. Their moves did not faze the baron. He simply turned to Bucky and whispered in his ear.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to let loose. You could’ve sworn a couple of people were ready to shit themselves.

 –––––

 Selby was...interesting. She/They gave off a pretentious ‘I’m always ten steps ahead’ aura with a bit of fake whimsy. She/They wanted to give you to one of her best clients and keep Bucky for herself/themselves (probably for sexual reasons, didn’t want to pry).

The conversation was going well...until Sam’s phone went off.

Insert facepalm.

You’ve told him time and time again to put his phone on silent and get rid of vibrate. Now he was gonna get y’all killed, but you said,” Fuck it!” and shot her/them and the #2.

The group had to book it and you cursed yourself for wearing non-running heels.

 _____

 Your asses were saved by a guardian sniper, Sharon. You were glad to see her again missing your bi-weekly movie nights and sporadic weekend brunches.

“It’s good to see you, Sharon.” You greeted as you hugged Sharon at the entrance of her High Town pad.

“It’s great to see you, too, even after you’ve destroyed my work.” Sharon lowered her voice while pressing her lips together in frustration and then lust at the sight of Sam’s deliciously thicc upper body.

You couldn’t blame her as you wanted to run your hands and tongue along his planes of muscle.

You listened in on the group’s conversation as you changed clothes seeing Sam’s distress at Sharon and Zemo’s words. They did have a point about how being a hero does ring hollow, but it still hurt to see Sam’s sadness and hurt.

 ––––––

 You found Zemo, bless his heart, dancing like a lost dad on the dance floor and started grinding against him while shooting Sam a sexy pout accentuating your sensually full lips.

Sam, for his part, was trying to look interested talking to a waitress with killer legs. He almost lost it when he put his arms around your waist.

“Let’s see if we can get a reaction out of him,” you whispered wrapping your arms around his neck. He knew that Sam hasn’t been giving it lately.

 ––––––

 Your little stunt lasted for about ten minutes before Sam stomped over grabbing your arm and dragging you into one of Sharon’s ‘private rooms’ after another man got too close to what was his.

“Why did you drag me away like that?!” you shouted secretly turned on by the raging fire in his eyes.

“So you like calling your men ‘Daddy’?” Sam demanded as he backed you into the wall.

“I’m your ‘daddy’ now, vixen.” Sam breathed while lightly dragging his finger up your thighs only to find no panties.

“No panties, huh?” he smirked as he twirled his forefinger around your clit causing you to moan.

“Fuck, I love hearing you moan. Say my name, vixen. Don’t care if Sharon finds out.” Sam murmured against your lips. He effortlessly lifted you in such a way to make you wonder if he got some SS serum. It didn’t hurt that you got to see his muscles bulge underneath his turtleneck as he landed your blessed backside onto one of the tables.

“Eyes on me, kitten,” Sam ordered as he forced open your legs and made his way your slit leaving open-mouthed kisses and love bites in his wake. “You're already soaking for me, baby.” he mused as he gave your slit a long lick.

You could barely keep yourself from moaning.

“Who's your daddy, baby?”

“You are!”

“I’m your ONLY daddy!” Sam shouted and dove in.

You were drowning in ecstasy.

Sam was hitting all the right notes with your pussy. He was always a G at eating you out. Sam swatted your hand away from your mouth, “I want everyone to know who your real daddy is,!”

He kept you on edge for nine excruciating minutes before he finally let you orgasm.

“No time for rest, vixen.” Sam chided as he flipped you on the table ass up with your dress bunched up around your chest,” Are you a good little vixen?” Sam breathed in your ear as he placed kisses along your ear, neck, and collarbone.

“Yes, daddy.”

“You’re damn right I am!” He sheaved himself into you in one swift motion. You moaned in delight at the sensation. He didn’t move no matter how much you begged him, “Tell the world who your daddy is,” he instructed as he slapped your plump ass.

You screamed out his name and Sam started thrusting. He gently wrapped his hand around your neck while demanding you to shout his name. Sam pounded into you at a relentless pace constantly hitting your ‘Cum Dizzy Sector’ turning you into a delightfully orgasmic mess.

Sam was reaching his limit so he played with your clit to make you finish first. You came with what felt like an earth-shattering orgasm with Sam coming with a primal roar not too long afterward.

Both of you were so wrapped up in orgasmic bliss that you didn’t notice Sharon, Zemo, Bucky, and a few other partygoers at the door.

“So, how did go?” Sharon teased as you tried to cover yourself up.

“How much did you see?”

“Hmm,” Sharon hummed while tapping her chin, “Enough for me to close a $19.8M art deal.”

“We’re getting a 10% cut.” Sam barked annoyed with the rest of the group reigning in on his smash time.

“Fine. Get dressed, I got a lead.” Sharon announced while smirking all the way to her quarters.

You smirked at Zemo as you made your way to the exit.

Worth it.

[hasliaran]

Undertale is owned by Toby Fox

Sooner or Later You’re Gonna be Mine is written by Staringback.

TimeHealsTale - Still a WIP by me.

Meet my undertale OC from TimeHealsTale which is an AU living rent free in my head. They are a canon MC that replaces the real Sans (age 5) after he got dumped into a tub of Void by Gaster to be forgotten.

Name: Comic Sans Du Font (Comic/Komi)

Age: 22 (5 years younger than canon Sans and 8 years older than Paps)

Job: Monster Healer that does House-calls. (Not a Judge; Sans disappeared because he was a Judge)

Profile in Game: Toriel’s Contact, The Smuggler, Summon Healer (after befriending; limited to 5 calls (diff. work phone no.); rapid calls will assume it’s a prank and not be picked up for a certain period of time.)

This is not her usual outfit but I just really wanted to post it.

In my head, the scene goes …

- she fell into the void trying to pull out a deformed still 5 years old Sans when she was going through her father’s stuff in his lab dungeon. (Occurred after the barrier broke)

- Sans was in a mega huge test tube floating in pitch black Void essence (frozen in stasis as no time passes through Void), so she couldn’t see anything or knew he was inside. Only after she accidentally tipped it over, smashing it to pieces, when trying to push it out of the lab that she realised there was an effing toddler inside it.

“Dad, seriously?” Comic got fed up already with the mess her father left behind after he got scattered.

- Cue her trying to grab the kid out of the muck only to fall in and be dropped down into another universe with the little one.

(Yes, this is the multiverse travel scene excuse and I love it)

Back then, Sooner or later your gonna be mine just uploaded a new comic chapter on YouTube. Hence, my brain went overdrive and said it’s a free real estate. So, I imagined the duo getting found by the skeleton brothers before the story started from rumours of them pillaging around trash sites, random food thefts and small skeletons offering up to do odd jobs.

Other skeletons than them, huh, curious.

Them skeletons in that story was already huge as heck though, now imagine a five a year old and a roughly five foot skeleton with a slight build running around what was essentially a mob era in the 1920’s.

The first thing that would go through their thick skulls was KIDS, THEY ARE KIDS, WHO HERE F***ED AND DIDN’T USE PROTECTION ?!

So much shenanigans from just trying to chase them down. ^_^

In the end, Komi and Void/V (little Sans; Komi’s not that creative at naming) were lured in by food, an offer for a roof over their heads and warm baths. Yep, tragic.

Little sans doesn’t look like a sans anymore here but a mere smooth skull shell with two big eye sockets and nothing else. I meant that literally. No lips or teeth as those were melted away and a pitch black body with stumps for legs. (look at Hollow Knight; Ghost but without the horns and has smoothen out round cheeks at least. I love that game.)

The last thing he remembered was that his aunt (step sister actually but he knows her as auntie) giving birth in the Underground Hospital and his uncle (Gaster) pushing him into a tub of black liquid, watching him drown.

And now he can’t talk since his lips is sealed shut.

Moreover, someone with his name who looks like a lot like his auntie and a bit like his uncle was dragging him around somewhere. It’s hella weird and confusing and he can’t cry properly. (Yes, HK reference here)

Yes, there is a story here for the duo that will coincide with SoLY’reGBM. Mostly, with Komi claiming Bara Sans courting skills were lame as hell no wonder Frisk ran screaming. This happen only at the time they were all comfortable enough to diss each other. Still, she and V were treated like sassy annoying younger siblings.

One’s assumed to be a teenager another a preschooler. So both were admitted to schools by force and with threats for Komi by Gaster since he didn’t want them in the house 24/7. Also to just enjoy the fact they have money now to send someone in their place to experience school. Papyrus here loves it that someone gets to experience and tell him all about while also not being the youngest in the family anymore.

Komi, in hindsight was 50/50 about it. Hating the idea at first before going, huh, maybe it’s not so bad… Hence the outfit up there. ^

She only has been to pre-school when her mother was alive and nothing else since, Gaster, her father, deeming it useless and only had been homeschooled by him. As much as you could call being locked in a room and told to read/answer these sheets of questions or not she’s never allowed to feed Papyrus as homeschooling activities. It happened in a period of when she was 10 - 14, so Paps would be 2 - 6. Damn well, she learned to memorise and spit everything out like a photocopier.

Seeing the Gaster in this universe sorta freaks her out. Making her wait to be ordered and when she doesn’t gets the order or the orders were just a pat on the skull and be told to behave, nothing else. She will proceed to look at him funny only to realise that oh, this is not dad. The three brothers can see that gal there has been through some shit and it’s not the fun kind. This also makes them question whether they should let them go back to wherever they came from, and that’s a whole other bag of fish to fry.

Komi knows they are a mob family, accepts it because hey her dad had a dungeon where he cuts up humans and eats SOULs for breakfast so why not this?

Only to find out they are pretty nice for a family and was this what a family suppose to be like? She liked it.

Komi with V/Void -, I will protect you my new baby brother that I have adopted at first sight with my body and SOUL. Which she does, she was raised with her Papyrus who was always aimed at gunpoint by her father. Basically, a rinse and repeat cycle situation in her eyes. Only to find out that no, nobody was out to get V!

She felt so gosh darn free in this universe but felt as though she was missing something all the time.

Yep, her found family from back home. So, definitely gotta get out of here somehow.

While also going to high school and befriending your adopted uncles’s enemy’s niece. Fuku Fire. Definitely not telling them what she did. They are gonna get so pissed.

Fuku - I have befriended the cool kid that’s not afraid to talk back against adults and was already a pro in home economics, who is also a skeleton Monster, meaning from a rival family. My parents and Uncle *pedo* Grillby must never know.

Comic will also be going through the motions of life here while figuring out how V’s powers work to send them back home and be getting a supply of Uncle’s favourite mustard since he’s been bitching about it every day by now.

He and Gaster will most definitely never know.

Nah, they know. Comic is a freaking blabber mouth that tells everything to this version of Papyrus just like she does in her own universe. Confirmed, she’ll be outed within 3 days by Paps and a fight about who she befriends was not their business.-at Gaster - who then sees it as an opportunity. Which leaves her storming out yelling they are all the same. Gaster and her Gaster.

Shit goes down that day, and everything went A-okay. Komi would make attempts to not overlap her father’s image over this guy because really, this Gaster is the farthest thing to her dad that’s a centuries old psychopath craving the secrets of the multiverse who would instead have not let her run out the house unscathed for yelling nor talked through things with her when she was brought back.

Darn guy was pretty nice.

Sans and Papyrus of this universe : who are you and what have you done to our brother?

G: What was that?

S&P: Nothing. S: (mutters under his breath) bias piece of sh*t

Then there’s that scene where they now got a new area to govern. Komi and V finds it weird but okay. *shrugs*. It felt like they were going to govern their territory or something. Sounds like basic Royal Guards one-o-one shtick her middle bro’s and friends’ kinda work. Seems simple enough.

It was not simple. I repeat, it was not simple.

G: No, we do not have to patrol the area.

G: No, we do not do shifts to monitor criminal activities.

G: It’s just an area that we will get a claim to.

G: But I need the humans here to be comfortable with Monsters, so I am going to let loose Papyrus on them. Since, we also have you two as well. Feel free to interact with the Humans. Tell me if anyone gives you three any trouble, Sans and I will personally deal with it.

S: wut? Yes? Yep, whatever he says goes. Better listen to your elders, brats.

P: Really, Sans?

C: So-, you want us to help around with the people in the area? Like charity work? Give free food and all that?

G: (how did she jumped to that? but otherwise, she’s not wrong.) … Yes-, that. Feel free to use your green magic on them as well if you have to but only when necessary. I don’t want you to suddenly disappear because your own loose lips.

C: Alright. (Does an excited fist pump) This is gonna be awesome~! …. Heyyy, did you just-

P: And I will be sure to guard them. (No arguing here from the other brothers)

V: (pouts and hand signed) N-O-T—B-A-B-Y

P: (could only stare at this being that barely reaches his kneecaps) Of course, little one.

All I know is, all of them are sassy sarcastic shits and there’s way more to be continued here.

So byeeee~

[danipixel]

Wherever the Force May Go

I haven’t written fanfiction in something like 10 years.  Now here I am with an OC and ideas.  I blame my favorite discord chat for this.  Specifically @maulieber.  All her fault.  And Maul’s.  He’s one hell of a muse.  If this isn’t awful, there will be more coming.

3k words?!  How did that happen?

Summary:  Daia Veeral is an ex-Jedi smuggler with a fondness for Mandalore.  When she finds her favorite world is under new leadership, she makes a special trip in hopes of new opportunities.  What she finds is a bigger challenge than she expected.  Only the Force knows where her life goes now.

The Tarisian cantina Daia found herself in was filthy.  The drinks were alright but the droids never cleaned.  Despite the dirt, this was the best place on the planet to look for work.  At least, it was most days.  Today there was nothing.  Every shipping and smuggling job was either taken or paid garbage for credits.  She was in no mood to take a mercenary job, no matter how well it paid.  “I’m not broke yet.” she thought.  

She walked up to the bar making sure her lightsabers stayed hidden in her jacket.  It was time for a drink.  She shouted and waved to the bartender, “Hey Jek!  I need something strong and cheap.  Whatcha got?”  The Togruta behind the counter poured her a small glass of dark brown liquid. “You’re not going to like it.”  

Daia took the glass and downed the presumably nontoxic drink in one move.  It burned down her throat and seared her sinuses.  “How do you drink that engine grease?” She choked out between coughs.  “I don’t.  You said strong and cheap.”  

“I guess I did.” she said with a hand wave.  “Anyway, please tell me you have news for me.  I don’t care if the job is legal or not.  I just need to keep the Fever Dream in the air.”  

Jek finished cleaning up the counter before answering.  “Sorry Daia.  No work, but I did hear some news from Mandalore you might be interested in.”  

That had her attention.  The jobs from Mandalore were the best paying contracts she had ever had.  With the Prime Minister in prison and Death Watch less active than usual she hadn’t heard from her contacts in months.  She just assumed they were dead or hiding. “What did the Duchess do now?  Piss off Death Watch again?  Trip down the stairs of Sundari Palace cause her dress was too extravagant?”  

Jek let out a small chuckle at that last thought. “No.  I mean, she’s always pissing off Death Watch.  Or at least, she was.  Word is that they took over Mandalore and put Almec back as Prime Minister.  Almec says Satine herself killed Viszla in a fit of rage after they took over.”

“Bullshit!”

“Yeah, I know, but I also heard Death Watch was taken over by someone else and that’s how he died.  A couple of monsters by the sound of it.”  

Daia rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as monsters, Jek.  But, I think I may need to pay a visit to Mandalore.”  She tossed Jek some credits for the “drink” and started towards the door.

Before she made it out the door Jek shouted, "Hey Daia, try to stay out of trouble!"  She turned around and flashed a smile before leaving the cantina.  "Never!"

On the way to the Fever Dream, Daia reached out to the Force.  The war raging across the galaxy made it more difficult to pinpoint specific occurrences within the Force, but something had definitely happened on Mandalore.  She felt something that almost felt like a storm when she focused her mind on the warrior world.  If Almec was Prime Minister again, there was no way he was actually the one in charge.  That man had no backbone.  He may have had Daia on his payroll before but that doesn’t mean she had to like the man.  Maybe she really should go to Sundari and find out who the new leader really was.  After all, it would only be polite to introduce herself and maybe reestablish a partnership.  Hopefully this one would be more reasonable than Viszla.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daia turned the corner into the docking hangar she had left her ship and saw one of her most loved sights in the galaxy, the Fever Dream waiting to take her into the stars.  She picked up her pace and jogged up the loading ramp into the small freighter.  She ran her finger along a small patch of rust near the airlock.  The poor girl needs some maintenance again.  That’ll have to wait until Daia comes into some credits again.  Daia saved every credit she could spare for a year in order to buy the ship.  It was in rough shape but having her own ship was like a dream come true.  Something to belong to her and not the Jedi Order.  She quickly checked on engines to make sure they would still run as smooth and silent as ever.  Those were the first things she replaced after her first simple cargo transport jobs.  The original engines were constantly running too hot and nearly cooked her inside the hull.  Her dream ship had a fever and a name.  

Satisfied with the state of the engines and pulling herself out of memories, she made her way to the cockpit and started her takeoff procedures from the well worn pilot’s seat.  With every button press and flip of a switch, the Fever Dream came to life and lifted from the hangar floor.  Daia guided the quiet ship through the Tarisian atmosphere and into the calming open expanse of space.  That view always brought a smile to her face.  The galaxy and endless options in front of her.  Nothing but herself, her ship, and the Force as her copilot.  She entered her destination into the navicomputer and waited for hyperspace jump calculations.  After a minute, the computer alerted her that the ship was ready to jump and she activated the hyperdrive.  “Let’s go home, love.”  Stars stretched and streaked past the viewport and were replaced by a tunnel of light as the ship was thrown into hyperspace.

She sat back in her chair for a moment, enjoying the swirling lights in front of her.  Starting to feel a bit restless, she got up and tossed her jacket and sabers into the copilot seat then meandered her way through the ship, eventually finding herself in the empty cargo hold in front of her training droid, P4R-E.  She activated the droid and picked up a couple of training blades.  No sense in cutting holes through the hull with her lightsabers.  “Wake up Parry!  Time for some exercise.”  The droid stood to attention and held out a staff. “Yes, Mistress.  Shall we begin a combat scenario?”

Daia held her twin blades in a defensive stance and circled her droid.  “Begin combat, Parry.”  The droid rushed at her.  He aimed high and she easily deflected the blow to the side.  She felt the Force begin to flow through her body and guide every strike.  P4R-E then aimed for her legs with a low sweep.  She leapt over the blow and brought one training blade towards his side, which he caught with his staff.  He quickly thrust a flurry of blows at her torso, forcing her to rapidly back up several steps while she repeatedly knocked the staff to her side.  She rapidly circled around and took aim at P4R-E’s back.  The droid managed to twist around and just barely catch her blade before it could connect.  She brought up the second blade and slammed it under his arm.  The droid straightened and faced the ex-Jedi.  “Well done, Mistress.  Shall we begin again?”

She rolled her shoulders while backing up to the other side of the cargo hold.  “Sure Parry.  Let’s try a more difficult combat program this time.  Begin combat.”  They began the dance again and continued for some time, both striking blows on the other, before Daia’s restlessness had been taken care of.  Breathing heavily and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, she stopped the training droid.  “That’s enough for today Parry.  I need to go shower.  Go ahead and power down for now.”  P4R-E took his place in the corner of the cargo hold again.  “As you wish Mistress.”

Daia walked to her room and the refresher to get cleaned up.  No sense in meeting her new employer covered in sweat.  After a quick run through the sonic shower, she put on a clean black and grey outfit and put her boots back on.  She examined herself in the mirror and quickly fixed her short cropped dark curls and applied fresh makeup.  Satisfied with her appearance she took a seat on the cushion in the corner of the small room and began to meditate.  Some Jedi practices never would go away.

She let out a slow breath and let the Force flow into and through her mind.  “Alright old friend, what do you have for me?  What am I walking into?”  Her old master always gently teased her when she’d speak with the Force like it was a living person.  If it was alive, why not treat it as such?  After several minutes, Daia felt her mind slip through the Force towards Mandalore.  She saw the world she had adopted as a second home in her mind’s eye, all desert sands dotted with shining domed cities.  She saw Sundari among them and focused on the capital city.  The Force showed her the familiar sights of Mandalorian markets and parks, filled with the passion driven people she adored.  In her vision she looked toward the palace but something was different.  It was covered in shadows that her sight couldn’t penetrate.  She pushed towards the palace but felt her projection pushed back.  “I’m not afraid of the dark.  Let me through.”  The Force relented and her vision passed into the shadow.  The familiar chill of the dark side surrounded her but still, she pressed on through the storm of shadows.  “Come on, something has to be there.”  She focused all her mind through the darkness until she finally saw something.  She saw eyes.  Golden eyes wreathed in flame.  Above the eyes she saw what appeared to be a sharp pointed crown.  The vision quickly faded from her and forced her back to her own senses.  “No, no, no.  That can’t be all.  There’s more, right?”  She tried again to dive into the shadows in Sundari palace and once more saw the same eyes and the same crown.  She finally gave up and stood up from her meditation.  “Fine.  Be cryptic.”

The ship’s alarm went off and alerted her that it would soon reach her destination and she would need to take control again.  Not knowing exactly what she’d run into today, Daia grabbed her blaster and strapped it to her hip.  She ran back to the cockpit, put her sabers and jacket back on and took a seat in the pilot seat.  When she reached her destination, she dropped the ship out of hyperspace.

The familiar sight of Mandalore filled the viewport of the Fever Dream as Daia pulled out of hyperspace.  Home sweet home.  Almost.  She flew a course through the atmosphere towards the dome of Sundari and the usual port she would always dock with.  Once she had put the ship down guards ran out towards the unexpected ship wearing armor painted red and black.  That was new.  She secured her sabers firmly under her jacket as she walked off the ship, making sure they stayed hidden but that her blaster was in easy reach.  No sense walking into this unprepared.

“Stop!  You’re not supposed to be here.”  One of the Mandalorians shouted, raising his blaster.  “We’re not expecting any ships this morning.  What are you doing here?”

Daia kept her hands in the air but focused her mind on the Force.  Reaching out to the guards’ minds and giving just that little push needed to have her will be theirs.  Finding that point in their minds, she pushed her will into their thoughts hard.  “You’re going to step aside and let me go to Sundari Palace.  I have business with the Prime Minister.”

Daia calmly held her open hands in the air.  “Su’cuy Mando!  I’m here on business.  I need to have a conversation with the man in charge.”

“That’s not happening.”  The second guard took aim at her head.  Clearly, normal conversation wasn’t going to work on these two.  

After a moment, the two warriors lowered their blasters and stepped aside.  “You have business with the Prime Minister.  Welcome to Sundari.”

“Thank you.”  Daia quickly walked past the two and took up a rapid pace towards the palace.  Slipping in and out of the morning Sundari crowds, she found her usual path to the back of the palace.  There was an old servant entrance that was rarely used in recent years.  Duchess Satine preferred to have her people enter through the main entrances.  Servant pathways were now reserved for those working maintenance and the smugglers Almec had employed.  Daia rounded the last corner for the entrance and immediately dropped back behind the wall with a whisper, “Shit.”  There was a Death Watch guard watching the door.  There was no way she was talking her way in there.

She thought about her options.  Mind trick?  No, palace guards are smarter than dock guards.  Flirt?  No, that’s just too obvious.  Bribery?  No, Death Watch doesn’t take bribes.  That Mandalorian honor can really get annoying.  Knock him out?  No, he’ll know someone went in.  She had an idea and started to head away from the guard.  This is so stupid, it can’t fail.  She snuck through the small space and found a corner to hide in.  Pulling out her blaster she screamed, “Help!  Gaa’tayl!  Gedet’ye!  Oh gods he’s going to kill him!”  Daia fired two shots straight into the ground and took off back the way she came.

Running back to the door, she heard the guard shouting and running into the corner she came from.  Let’s see if the codes are still the same.  She punched in the old door code Almec used for his smugglers to come and go as needed.  The door quietly slid open.  Almec, you idiot.  Change your codes once in a while.  Daia slipped into the open doorway and quickly shut the door behind her.  

Once she was in the servant passages she wrapped the Force around her like a cloak to help her sneak through the palace.  Almec and Death Watch would be in the throne room this time of day, which meant a lot of walking.  Climbing the many stairs and walking the winding pathways, Daia hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake.  There was a presence in the Force that she’d never felt here before.  Something or someone powerful.  Before she knew it, the small door that led to the corner of the throne room was in front of her.  She pressed her ear to the door and could hear voices beyond.  Almec was in there, that was for sure.  She heard several other voices but didn’t recognize them.  The presence was still in there and it was powerful.  Powerful and dark.  Am I still doing this?  Yes, yes I am.  It’s now or never.  

Daia opened the door and strode confidently into the throne room with a grin.  “Good morning Almec!  It’s good to see you alive and well!  Congratulations on your release from prison.”

A dozen Mandalorians in red and black armor turned and aimed their blasters straight at Daia’s head. She took the hint and held her hands in the air.  Across the room Almec started with a curse.  “Oh sweet maker, what do you want?”

A quick glance around the throne room was all she needed to know she was right about Mandalore's new leader.  An unfamiliar man with crimson and black skin and a crown of horns sat on the throne.  That explains the new armor.  To his side was another Zabrak.  This one was larger with longer horns and gold and black skin. The Force swirled around the two men like a storm.  These men were no simple warriors.  They were Force users.  Strong ones at that.

The warrior with horns welded to his helmet brought her attention back to the blasters in her face.  "Who are you and what are you doing here?  Spying?  An assassin?"  

Is that Saxon under the bucket?  "I used to smuggle for Almec and Death Watch.  Are you saying you forgot about me?  I came here to talk business and maybe reestablish our relationship since you seem to be under new leadership."  Viszla's dead but Kryze was nowhere to be found.  It seems things had changed more than she thought.

The Mandalorian gestured towards her blaster on her hip, "If you’re here to discuss business, then why are you armed?"  Definitely Saxon under there.

Daia let out a dramatic gasp.  "Someone armed among the Mando’ade?  Who would do such a thing?"  She looked back at Almec who was pretending and failing to act like he didn't recognize her.  "Are all these warriors such di’kutla?"  That earned her a deep chuckle from the man on the throne.  Good, he has a sense of humor.  That’s an improvement.

Daia lowered her hands slightly and addressed the Prime Minister again.  "It looks like you’ve made some new friends since the last time I was here, burc'ya."  She reached out with the Force to make a small connection to the Zabrak on the throne.  A greeting, almost like a knock on the door.  I see you.  His eyes immediately snapped to hers in response.  Golden eyes wreathed in flame and not a crown, but horns.  Now the vision made sense.

The Force wielder gestured to Death Watch to lower their blasters as he finally spoke, "Answer them.  Who are you and why are you here?"

She finally dropped her hands entirely and put on her most charming smile.  "My name is Daia Veeral.  I’ve been smuggling for Almec for about two and half years now.  I'd heard he was Prime Minister again but this time publicly backed by Death Watch.  I’d also heard rumors Death Watch was taken over by monsters.  I came to see for myself.”

The Zabrak narrowed his eyes at her monster comment.  "So, Daia Veeral, do you see the monsters you came for?"  He gestured to himself and the now glowering man beside him.

Daia shook her head, "I don’t believe in monsters.  What I see is a very capable man on the throne of Mandalore."  She moved to take a step towards the throne.  This time a blaster muzzle met the side of her skull and a woman spoke.  "Don't take another step."

Letting out a snort and a laugh Daia teased, "What are you, his bodyguards?"

The red Zabrak smirked at her joke and again signaled for the blaster to be lowered.  This man wielded power like he was born to do it.   "Do you have a problem with my personal guard?"

She shot a glare at the Mandalorian that had just threatened her.  I think I know her. Kast, I think it was.  "None at all." Daia then gestured to the two Force users.  "I’ve just never seen two men less in need of bodyguards in my life.  I take it, you’re the one that killed Pre Viszla then."  The larger one smiled at her compliment.

The crimson man sat a little straighter and lifted his chin before answering.  Oh, he's a proud one.  "Is that a problem?"

Daia smiled again. "No, I’d like to thank you.  Working with that man was hell.  If it wasn’t for the fact that he paid so well, I would have stopped a long time ago."

Saxon reacted angrily to her comments.  "All of us served under Viszla, he was a strong leader and he led us for years.  Careful what you say."

She turned and glared at the man. "Not strong enough obviously.  Viszla was a complete shabuir.  Did you ever try talking to him?  He thought he was the god of Mandalore.  His ego would have gotten you all killed eventually."  If Saxon wanted a fight, he'd get one.  He loomed over Daia.  "Watch it." He spit out at her.

Daia snarled back.  "Not a single one of you had the gett’se to do what this man did."  She walked away from Saxon and turned back to the throne where she saw a smirk on the Zabrak's face.  "So, Mand’alor.  I would like to offer you my services as a very capable smuggler and fighter if you'll have me."  She held out her hand and walked closer to him.

Mand'alor rose from his throne and stalked towards Daia, a metallic click sounding with every foot step.  The Force draped itself around him like a swirling shadow leaving darkened ripples in his wake.  "Very well."  He firmly grasped her outstretched hand. "You may stay in the palace as long as you are on Mandalore."

Shocked at the offer but refusing to let go of his hand, "That’s very kind but not necessary."  "I insist," He growled.  He made his point known with a tighter squeeze on her hand and a push into her with the Force.

Daia finally let go of his hand with a small push back of her own.  "Very well then.  Thank you for your hospitality.  I’m sorry, I never got your name."

"Maul."  The name rumbled out of his chest.  It was more a growl than a word.  Does he always introduce himself like that?

"I’ll go get my things from my ship then, Maul.  I look forward to our new partnership."  Oh this is going to be fun.  With that Daia gave a small bow and walked out of the throne room and back towards her ship.  Life just got much more interesting.

Maul watched Daia intently as she left the room.  Why had a Jedi come into his throne room and offered to work for him?  Something must not be right.  He'll keep watching her until he finds out what it is.  

His counterpart finally came up from behind him to speak.  "Brother, she's lying to us.  No smuggler would be wrapped in the Force like that.  Why keep her here?"

Maul regarded his brother’s words for a moment before speaking. "Sometimes it is best to keep your enemies close, Savage.”

“Is she an enemy, then?”

“I haven’t decided.”  Maul would be patient for now and see what comes of the woman who just lied to him.  He would deal with her later.

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Heat in the rain pt. 8 Christmas at the burrow

(What a very un-christmassy Christmas chapter! I hope it’s alright that I focused more on the people rather than the activities, after all, there’s a lot of people to keep track of; I actually often wonder how the Weasley’s get through Christmas with the enormous amount of people the family would consist of today lol - hope you enjoy xxx) 

Description: Reader and the twins go home to the burrow for Christmas and get to catch up with most of the Weasley family. Reader has a serious talk with Harry in the kitchen, as one does. 

Warnings: none in particular

Wordcount: 1881 

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 

Christmas rolled around quickly, the days of December flying past in a haze of coloured lights, snow and too many cookies. Upon the 23rd, you and the twins set off to the burrow, apparating there. 

A brief moment of feeling like you were being pulled and squeezed in possibly every direction at once and then a thud. The cold air outside the burrow filled your lungs, your hands holding your bag, the twins had appeared beside you roughly at the same time, both looked happy to be home and you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy to be seeing the burrow’s fantastically crooked frame, you’d spent several summer holidays here, every single one being part of the happiest moments in your life thus far. 

The door opened as you and the twins neared the house, Molly appearing in the door, opening her arms wide as she went to greet you happily, 

“Hello dears, so good to see you!” She said as she hugged the twins, moving on to you, 

“Oh Y/n,” She said, her voice full of empathy, “It’s so good to have you here!” She embraced you in hug tight enough to choke you but you didn’t mind, you’d missed her motherly presence. 

“Molly, please, she’s turning blue!” Arthur laughed as Molly let go stepping aside so that Arthur could welcome you as well, 

“Let’s get your stuff upstairs,” said Molly as the three of you hung up your coats, “Y/n you’ll be sleeping in the twins’ room,” She explained as she led you through the house and up the stairs to the second floor where the twins’ old room was located, next to Percy’s where him and Charlie would be staying, she explained that Bill and Fleur were staying in Bill’s old room, Ginny and Harry in Ginny’s, Hermione and Ron in Ron’s, 

“Thank goodness for romance,” Molly chuckled, “without it we’d be completely overbooked,” there was a twinkle in her eyes as she mentioned romance, her eyes drifting over you and George who seemed to look anywhere other than at each other, 

“But come downstairs and say hello to everyone else, I have to get started on dinner,” Molly chuckled, you followed her downstairs, the twins behind you. 

In the kitchen Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Arthur and Percy were standing in the living room, chatting and laughing with each other. Bill had his arm comfortable wrapped around Fleur who was talking to Charlie who was pointing to a new scar on his right wrist, Arthur and Percy laughed about something work-related. 

You went round receiving hugs and exchanging hellos before sitting down on one of the sofas with the twins who excitedly asked Charlie about his scar, 

“Got it from our newest addition, an antipodean opaleye, beautiful but extremely temperamental, she’s a real teenager,” Charlie explained with a snicker, his arm stretched out so that you and the twins could see the burn scar, “we’re watching her until we can move her to another sanctuary in New Zealand,” 

“Why can’t you move ‘er now?” Asked Fleur, you noticed how much her accent had improved since last time you’d spoken to her, “Well she’s still a bit too young for travelling far,”  Charlie said, “We’d like to wait until she’s a bit older, and has gained a little weight, she was in an awful state when we got her,” He said, rubbing the scar reminiscently, 

“Another smuggler?” Percy asked. Charlie nodded, “That’s what we suspect anyways, we can’t be sure as she was apparently abandoned but then again that’s not uncommon for smugglers,” 

Percy gave a nod of understanding, 

“I didn’t know the department of magical transport dealt with smugglers?” Fred asked, 

“Yeah, shouldn’t that be Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures’ job?” George added, 

“Well it’s more of a cooperative job,” Percy explained, “since magical law enforcement catches them, but they’re typically using magical transportation and finally smuggling various magical creatures, meaning the paperwork is shared between all three departments,” Percy looked tired at the thought of the paperwork, which you didn’t question, he had a history with working tirelessly with his previous job at the ministry, though thankfully, he’d become a lot more grounded and even nice again after the war, much to the joy of the remaining Weasley family. 

“We’re trying to work with the other two departments on finding a way to stop smuggling for good but naturally that’s turning out to be easier said than done,” Percy said, running a hand through his hair, 

“You know, the muggles have an interesting contraption for catching smuggled goods,” said Arthur, “I believe it’s called a metal-detector,” 

“Unless they’re smuggling a niffler, that’d hardly be helpful,” Percy said, 

“Yes, but see they also have a way of tagging wild animals in order to track them, I read it in one of the books Hermione borrowed me,” Arthur explained, excitement over the chance to talk about his biggest passion shining through on his aged, kind face, “so, say if you started tagging wild dragons, of course not in way that would harm them,” Arthur said defensively as Charlie looked alarmed, “but with this little tag, you could build a metal detector of sorts, similar to the spell detectors we already have and use and catch the smuggled dragons that way,” Arthur sat back, pleased with his offer. Percy looked at his father, seemingly impressed, 

“That’s not all that bad,” he admitted, “of course it would still be difficult in terms of the smuggling of eggs, but it’s a start, thanks, dad.” He said, clapping his father appreciatively on the shoulder, 

“No problem, Perce, it’s good to know this old brain can still be put to use,” Arthur answered with a small wink in the direction of you and the twins, causing the three of you to giggle a little. 

The conversation between the Weasleys was interrupted by the sound of the door and soon Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny appeared in the entrance. Arthur stood up and walked to the entrance but the rest of you held back, letting them receive their hugs and welcomings from Molly first. She seemed even more keen to reassure Harry as she said hello, holding onto him for an almost extreme amount of time as, even after hugging him, her hands remained on his shoulders as she told him how happy she was to see him. Harry had been a bit timid after the war, you supposed it was the survivors’ guilt which you’d all felt immediately after the war but it was no wonder that Harry had been brought down most of all by the deaths of allies and schoolmates. He’d taken to keeping to himself for a little until Ginny, Hermione and Ron decided to burst his bubble in which he’d kept himself under the illusion of ‘protecting others’ and ‘not causing any more harm’. He seemed to be doing better now, however, as he and the gang had decided to try and renovate nr.12 Grimmauld place to fit Harry a bit better, and because of this, you noticed, they all looked a little worn in the way that people do after doing physical work for an extended period of time though nonetheless happy. 

As it became your turn to say hello to them, you noticed how Harry avoided your eyes at first, and at first you questioned this, then you remembered your parents; Harry had explicitly said during the war that he wanted as few people to suffer because of him as possible, so when random civilians with a past connection to the first wizarding war, people like your own parents, were killed he’d felt miserable, you suspected he’d heard of your parents. You made sure to tell him how good it was to see him again, hoping it would soften him up. 

***

After dinner people settled in various places, Ron, Hermione and Harry were talking to Bill and Fleur, Ginny had sat down with Charlie who was recounting how he’d gotten his newest scar again, Arthur and - a mildly horrified - Molly sitting next to them. This left you and the twins who were discussing business with Percy, you four had stayed in the kitchen but after mentioning a prototype they were working on, Fred and George went to collect their plans for it, wanting to show Percy who’d followed them thus leaving you alone in the kitchen (after George had asked if you wanted to come and see as well, of course, though you’d turned him down on the grounds that you’d already seen the prototypes) 

You stood up to get some water and when you turned around you met the easily recognisable, brilliant green eyes belonging to Harry who was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, 

“Uhm...hi,” he said, 

“Hi?” You replied, lifting an eyebrow, Harry took a hesitant step forward, 

“Y/n I’m really sorry about your parents,” he said, looking down. You were a little shocked that he was so forward about it. You didn’t really know what to say, something about the way he looked so unsure himself made you step towards him as well. It was strange how much he sometimes still resembled the young boy who’d come out of the maze in the Triwizard tournament, scarred and shocked, you figured that moment would have been the beginning of his insecurity, if it hadn’t started before because what kind of child could possibly bear the pressure of being named ‘the chosen one’ at such an early age?

“Harry it’s alright, really,” You said, “I mean it’s sad-” 

“I wish I could change it,” He said quietly, “all those people, dead because of me,” 

“Not because of you,” You cut him off, “because of the war, almost all those people chose to fight, they chose to stand with you and they knew what the risks were when they did, we all did, you didn’t lie to us when you warned us it was dangerous, we already knew, so really it’s not your fault,” 

“your parents…” Harry interjected, 

“My parents didn’t get to chose this time, but they in the last war and that’s why they were targeted, because they had entered the first war, just as willing to die for the cause as we were when we fought, not because we were foolish or delusional but because it was what was right, and they felt the same when they made the choices they did, when they were targeted they knew that they had their past to blame, not you, Harry,” You took a deep breath, he looked taken aback by your ramblings but you had a lot to say, you knew he was guilty but this wasn’t something you wanted on his conscience, 

“Harry,” You said, taking his hand, “you wanna know how I know you’re not to blame?” you asked and without letting him answer you continued, “because you’re a good person, Harry, everyone knows that you would never want anyone to get hurt, so of course none of us blame you, me included, because we know it was out of your control and that if you could have your choice, then there wouldn’t have been a war in the first place,” you gave him a reassuring smile, which he returned hesitantly, 

“Y/n,” He said, tears brimming his eyes, he swallowed hard, “Don’t worry about it,” you said quietly, squeezing his hand as a lump in your throat prevented you from speaking further. 

___

oof: Alright raise your hand if you also think Harry James Potter suffered from extreme anxiety and guilt after the war? me too. 

___

Taglist:  @lilcutekittykat​ @proflongbttm​ @silentexplorer18

[crystalized-dreams]

As tempting as it was to try and write this slightly in character, I’ve been sick these last several days so I’ll try and lessen it, especially for those of you who read this blog and aren’t particularly into Star Wars (That said, if anyone is here from my old SWTOR blog, a Rising Moons/Bright Suns to you depending on where you may be in the universe!). I’m also probably going to bring up a bit other facets of my trip to Disney World, but the focus is absolutely going to be in the brand new area– Galaxy’s Edge where you can visit Batuu and get a feeling of full immersion in the Star Wars Universe.

I wouldn’t really call myself the biggest Star Wars fan, but I like it enough to still enjoy several aspects of it. What I found myself most excited for was using the new Datapad mode through the Play Disney app once we arrived in Batuu. I absolutely adored collecting things in SWTOR so being in this immersive world where we can scan things and do jobs and quests and collect things? Completely up my alley.

While I wouldn’t mind my face not just being a black silhouette, there’s still some fun outfits. As hard as I tried though, I wasn’t able to do everything. I will say as much fun as I had with the Datapad, there were a few… issues I ran into with it. Less about the app itself, but oversights with having this type of connectivity and immersion.

For one, there isn’t a lot of seating. This isn’t really too surprising– besides for immersion reasons, it helps keep people moving and to be honest, it never felt incredibly crowded outside the shops a bit. Because of this though, people essentially make their own seats, whether it be the sides of plants or most commonly, the various crates lingering around. Which wouldn’t be so much of an issue if most of the crates weren’t used for the Datapad game. Various crates of all sizes have a QR code like this, either vertically like below or horizontally: There were many times I ended up passing by areas missing them because people were covering them– whether leaning on it or with their legs while they sat down on it. While some people knew about the app (or recognized it after seeing multiple people playing and having them ask people to move), most had no idea and didn’t realize they were blocking anything. And sometimes people need to sit and nobody really wants to interrupt someone who just wants to take some photos, but there were times I ended up just waiting around for 5-10 minutes for someone to be done to finally scan something for two seconds. Some can even be facing inward which, at least for me, weren’t always easy to reach.

In the end, I managed to get 9/15 Outfits, 3/8 Weapons, 7/11 pieces of Cargo, 12/20 Parts & Scraps, 2/4 The Interior Star Maps, 3/3 New Territories Star Maps, 1/4 The Slice Star Map, 0/2 Trailing Sectors Star Maps, 1/3 Western Reaches Star Map, 2/4 Unknown Regions Star Maps, 8/8 Vehicle Schematics, 0/1 Schematics Data (though, I swear I had this?*), 4/8 Droid Data Memories, 4/5 Dok’s Den Dealings Transmissions, 0/3 Kase Double-Cross Transmissions, 0/2 A Strange Feeling Transmissions, 0/3 A Lifelong Companion Transmissions, 1/3 Debts to Oga Transmissions, 0/3 Life in the Outpost Transmissions, 1/3 Dhoran’s Mistake Transmissions, 1/3 DJ R-3X Transmissions, 1/2 Droid Problems, 1/2 Resistance Operatives Transmissions, 2/4 First Order Comms Transmissions, 0/1 OTS Recruitment Transmission, and 0/1 Monkey Lizard Sighting Transmission. As for titles, I have 23/40 unlocked. I probably won’t unlock all the First Order ones, but I have 2/5 of them thus far. I really want to get the Galactic Explorer title. I also don’t see myself earning Bankrupt or a few others unless something with the requirements change.

*I believe this is the Credits Skimmer. I never really figured out how to utilize it properly. But maybe it just doesn’t show up properly while out of the park.

While you have full control over the crates (barring… anyone sitting on and/or blocking them), the transmissions I had a lot of trouble with. I found my phone just did not seem to pick them up often and they would be gone fairly quickly (like it’d be there and gone within the next refresh even if I didn’t move). Hacking seemed to work the best, but some just… worked in awkward ways (For example, I found I had nothing to hack in the Cantina despite a few things requiring DJ R-3X to be). It felt like I had to walk in circles to really get it to work. Speaking of the Cantina though, we actually went in for breakfast as I just… had to try the Moogan Tea: It was amazing. I actually got a second one to go. We also had some Batuu Bits which were really tasty. I’d love to go again for dinner, though, hopefully we can actually sit next time… Fingers crossed they will have the new dishes that their other location has too.

Moving on, the thing I had the most trouble with was actually the translating. The automatic rarely actually picked up anything I was near (and I needed to hold my phone up in front of it when it was) while it was also near impossible to really do so manually without holding up traffic. I don’t really know a better way to do it, but I ended up making no progress on it because of that. It would translate fine when it actually worked– the problem was just getting it to pick up what I needed.

The jobs were definitely the most fun and for the most part, worked the smoothest. I did almost every job with the exception of some of the First Order jobs– I only did the ones that would get me an item over just credits. I never received more jobs on a different day (though, I could repeat the ones I did), but I’m hoping more may be added in the future.

The exception to “working smoothly” though is “Flight Crew Wanted”, a big multi-step job that requires you accomplishing certain things while in the queue (normal queue– not fast pass and not single rider’s) for Smuggler’s Run. As much as I enjoyed the right (well, sort of– we’ll get to that), this is where I found some of the biggest oversights are for the Datapad mini-game. The job involves helping out Hondo Ohnaka and starts off wanting you to scan crates you will see along the line. There are a lot of crates and occasionally, you’ll be asked questions about where they go. How many crates you scan and how many questions you answer correctly determines what the characters will say about you and how well your performance was.

The biggest issue is that this is a moving line. If the line is moving incredibly slow and it’s a huge line, well, maybe it’ll work out, but unfortunately for health-related reasons, I actually can’t stand for long periods of time. If the line is moving that slowly, I wouldn’t even be able to stand in it. If the line is moving at a fair pace, you can’t scan fast enough and you end up blocking the line so I can either get separated from my party or end up just letting people pass me. It’s incredibly hard to balance and even when we tried to, it just became too much as we kept seeing more and more crates and even ones we missed due to not looking around enough.

Next, you’ll be memorizing various different IDs and then answer questions asked about it. I’m not sure how many you have to do in order to have “done enough”– but one surely was too little. You have a good amount of time to do this at least and this is probably the step you can work on the most as it really doesn’t require a specific area to be in to take care of something. You just need to be after the crates and before the look-out deck… which is where the next problematic step comes. You’ll be going past four large windows above the Millenium Falcon and again, depending on the line queue, this isn’t exactly the easiest to do. You will be asked questions about the ship and need to answer accurately in order to pass.

Once that is done, it’s time for the actual ride part and your performance matters. Whatever credits you earn from the ride will get you those credits in your datapad and even an achievement based off how much you can earn. At most, if you do everything perfectly, you can earn 13,000 credits, the amount going down based on your performance and how much damage the ship takes. And that is what brings us to our biggest oversight– each “party” for the game consists of six people. And not everyone is likely to want to do the ride just like you. There’s two pilots, two engineers, and two gunners. While you can see if someone may want a different pass than you (Someone is our group had been engineer before so I traded them my gunner pass as I didn’t want to be engineer), you can’t really do anything about having different ideas in mind for what you want to do. In general, there’s essentially these groups of people:

People who want to do everything perfectly

People who want to fail completely

People who just want to enjoy the ride for the heck of it

People who are just there for someone else

The other half of our party mentioned having an issue as one of the pilots was a little kid. A similar situation happened with a friend. There will be kids on this ride. That is absolutely expected. And while I absolutely believe some kids can do a great job, there are also plenty of kids who do not care in the slightest or are only there because their parent/guardian wants to be on the ride. And I genuinely worry slightly on the kids part because someone will absolutely get annoyed and take it out on their party members and that’s kind of the problem with these group teamwork things, especially if you do not know enough people to make a full party.

When we go to Disney, we have anywhere from 2-5 people usually. Not enough for a full group and one of those people would absolutely not go on it due to motion sickness. It ended up being three of us going on the ride with three people we didn’t know. My husband and our friend ended up being in the pilot seats with me as an engineer while our newly met crew members would be the two gunners and the other engineer.

In the end, while I managed to keep my side of the ship at 100%, the other engineer didn’t do as well with 15% damage done halfway through and even more by the end of it. My husband also messed up with the breaks at one point.

The ride is incredibly reflex intensive and the thing is, and unfortunately this is the other big oversight with it, the best chance you have at doing your best is not actually watching the ride at all. Maybe I could’ve done it regardless, but in the end, I had rarely watched any of the ride screen as I was too busy focusing on my buttons. You mainly just have to hit the buttons lit up and switch the appropriate switches as indicated. It’s very easy to read (likely due to the range of ages), but it’s also easy to get caught up in the screen or forget exactly where a button is if you’re not looking at it. And if you’re looking at the buttons, you’re missing what’s going on around you as you’re no longer looking out the window, but at your control panel.

I saw so little of the ride itself because I was so focused on doing well and not letting my crew down which I suppose our other Engineer didn’t care as much about. We had earned about 11,800 Credits, but due to damages, ended up losing over 3,000 in repairs. I actually hadn’t even known we would get them in the Datapad at the time of going on the ride– I just am a perfectionist, but this made me even more disappointed we failed. Especially considering how well we did.

And does this encourage people to go on the ride again? Yes, absolutely, but heck, it’s encouraged by being one of the best ways to earn credits too and when you have a full schedule or not a lot of time, while going on Smuggler’s Run over and over again for an entire day/week sounds fun, it’s not always plausible– not to mention the team situation again. And honestly, I wouldn’t even mind trying a “failure” run where I just… don’t do anything the entire time, but I’d want to actually do a perfect run first. Since the ride varies based off when you “fail” or succeed, I really want to see both paths definitely, but it feels like it’ll be a while before doing either.

Smuggler’s Run was actually one of the last things we found time to do because of a very busy schedule and just trying to find a good time where the line wasn’t too crazy. There is no fast pass for it (and I’m not sure if there is one planned) and to be honest, as it currently stands, I would assume that would take me away from my crate checking and everything involved in the Datapad job so I’m not sure I’d get a fast pass even if I could.

As for the ride just… on its own merits, it was fun and reminded me of essentially a smaller party version of Star Tours– it moves very similar, but obviously, it’s much more interactive.

I had hoped to go on the ride again, if only for another chance at scanning things and a perfect score, but we just didn’t manage to make it back unfortunately. I’m still bummed about it.

Moving onto things I did BESIDES the Datapad minigame, for one, my husband and I both made Droids! Mine is this cute BB Unit who I still have yet to think of a name of. We even got the bag for it too: I also got a personality chip for it and some stickers so I hope to style it up a bit at some point (mostly using the pink to cover up the black maybe…). My husband made an R6-Unit: I kind of wish more could’ve mixed and matched, but I’m not really surprised they couldn’t. I hope we’ll see more ways to customize our droid in the future.

We also stopped by Savi’s Workshop for some very important business.

I had gone the Elemental Nature route which also gave me this lovely pin: There were some pieces I liked from the Protection & Defense type, but in the end, Elemental Nature just kind of fit me more. Though, I wish they still kept the original coloring over the silver for the whale bone:

We also made sure to stop by the markets and I picked up these lovely handmade plushies:

This adorable Mouse Droid (plus a lovely droid group photo): (The top opens and the wheels move so it’s fun to just… move it about and have it old some things 🙂 Plus the lanyard to wear it around your next)

And a Holocron, currently with the purple crystal I had gotten with my lightsaber: 🙂 I also got white and green Kyber crystals. I sure hope they add pink ones.

As for food, I already spoke about the Cantina earlier, but we did our best to try everything at least once. Kat Saka’s Kettle was worth it for the Mouse Droid, but honestly, the popcorn just… wasn’t that great. It was kind of chewy in an almost stale-like way and I don’t know if we just got a bad batch or what, but it just… was not enjoyable.

We, of course, had to try the Blue Milk and Green Milk over at the Milk Stand. Both were enjoyable, but my husband and I both preferred the Blue Milk. I think my only complaint is I would’ve loved a less “smoothie-like” version– just actual milk or even a milkshake. Something more creamy, essentially. We wanted to get the special Milk container, but due to lack of time, we didn’t get the chance.

For breakfast, we had Ronto Roasters and got the Ronto Morning Wrap and Ronto Wrap (which seemed to be a combination of it and the Endorian Chicken Wrap at the time we went, but now seem to be more different things). Despite generally not being much of an egg person, I loved the Ronto Morning Wrap. It was perfect and the Grilled Pork Sausage was amazing. I’d absolutely get it again.

We got Docking Bay 7 Food for lunch (though, my mother had the breakfast and said it was great so I definitely want to try the Bright Suns Breakfast Platter next time we go). I had gotten the Endorian Tip Yip with mashed potatoes while my husband got the Felucian Garden Spread. I really enjoyed mine, though, if I picked, I’d say I liked my Ronto Morning Wrap more. While my husband liked his and I enjoyed my taste of it, it was a lot spicier than expected which took away from the flavor.

To go with our lunch, we also tried the [non-alcoholic] drinks and desserts! The drinks seemed to have been changed a bit since we last went, but both we had were great. As for the desserts, I got the Batuu-bon and my husband got the Oi-Oi Puff. We shared a bit though and both were really great. My husband can’t decide which he liked more, but I preferred my Batuu-bon.

Next time we go, I’d love to try the Batuuan Roast and/or the Smoked Kaadu Ribs. I’ve heard the macaroni and cheese is good too.

And of course, we’re not here to just talk about what we did, I have some pictures of the sights too 🙂 #gallery-0-37 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-37 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-37 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-37 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

The entire area has such high rocks and is set up in such a way that it genuinely does feel like its own planet/city. Even if it’s a bit awkward walking through Toy Story Land to get to it. And all kinds of familiar and new characters will just be walking around. And who knows, maybe you’ll run into a cool spy and have cool spy conversations like the person writing this did 😛

Moving on to the rest of Disney, it was honestly a bit of a mixed trip. In a way, it was less crowded than we expected despite some areas still being rather packed and I ended up being sick two days before we left and the day of. We normally go around this time for the cooler weather, but this year, it was about 90 the entire time, which sure I guess is to be expected when on a planet with three suns and also in Florida but usually it’s closer to 70-80 or so when we go. In the end, I quickly got hit with heat stroke which just kind of murdered me ahead of time for our trip. I’m not going to go into my health issues, but for several reasons, I do very very poorly with heat and with all the construction and things being moved back for the new gondolas, I was not doing well.

Because of that, a lot of our plans got cut a bit. We did our usual Afternoon Tea at the Grand Floridian where we had been hoping to stay before things ended up not working out: #gallery-0-38 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-38 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-38 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-38 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

I had gotten Zanzibar Chai as my tea and absolutely loved it. While I love all the courses, I will admit the scones and sandwiches are my favorite courses. We had planned to do the tea tasting they now have in Epcot at the England Pavilion, but due to me getting sick that day, we ended up having to cancel. I’m really hoping we’ll be able to go next year.

Due to the issues with our hotel stay, what we ended up doing was staying in a Polynesian Bungalow for a night (which was really nice, honestly): #gallery-0-39 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-39 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-39 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-39 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

The view was so pretty and we even got our own little private pool. While the Polynesian isn’t necessarily my favorite hotel, it at least has nice room service and I still love passing this every time we enter the hotel: #gallery-0-40 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-40 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-40 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-40 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

And then switching to a room at Saratoga Springs for the rest of our stay (in which I finally got to accomplish my dream of a two floor hotel room like in Home Alone 2…): Despite the size of it, the beds were not as comfy unfortunately and the pillows were… incredibly flat 😦 Which made sleeping a bit difficult. The room also wasn’t particularly close to a bus stop which meant a decent trek in the morning (and the room was one of the last due to the size) to not be late and an exhausting trek back after already walking all through the park.

While we hoped to do our usual “taste” around the world part of the Food Festival, due to lack of time, it just… did not fully work out. Because of this, we tried to focus on just our absolute favorites (and even then, still tried to narrow it down) for things we’ve had before and prioritized new things we hadn’t tried. I didn’t get many pictures because, again, time was just hard and honestly, I never want to plan a trip with so much overlapping again, but we did get a few pictures of some desserts plus the lovely Boba Milk Tea from China. #gallery-0-41 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-41 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-41 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-41 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Lion King Panna Cotta

Cheesecake Sampler

The Cheese Crawl Victory Cheesecake

Panna Cotta isn’t usually my thing, but that one was pretty interesting. I liked the left-most cheesecake of the sampler best. And of course I had to do the cheese crawl– the cheesecake for finishing was really good too. And China always has an amazing Bubble Tea lately to be honest.

The only things I didn’t get to try were the Cheese Plate and Popcorn at the new Apple Orchard booth Someone ordered the last just before me and I’m still pretty bummed about it. It was our last day so not much I could do about it.

On the bright side, we FINALLY got to do one of the “special events” at the Food Festival. Because my husband and I don’t drink alcohol, it’s really hard to justify the prices of most of the events as alcohol is always included, but the Parisian Breakfast was one of the more reasonably priced events despite also giving alcohol. To be honest, I was worried we would miss it– there was a hurricane passing through and it was pouring like crazy. We ended up being completely soaked (and being super wet on the freezing cold bus was not fun) and then essentially had to book it from the entrance to Epcot all the way to the World Showcase and to Paris. Maybe if I was less out of breath and stressed out I could’ve tried explaining in French, but thankfully I eventually managed to get out that we had reservations (There has been people who had tried to come in for food and to be out of the rain who had not) and thankfully, they still sat us despite being about an hour late.

They were so nice and it was really good. Also lots of cheese which is always great. I absolutely loved the Hot Chocolate especially– I prefer my hot chocolate more light and creamy than really rich so this was literally perfect and I wish I had the recipe for it. I drank so many cups. And while part of it was so we wouldn’t get pneumonia, it was also because it was genuinely super tasty. #gallery-0-42 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-42 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-42 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-42 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

One other new thing we finally got to do was check out the Na’vi River Journey ride and Pandora in general over at Animal Kingdom. We rarely go to Animal Kingdom as it doesn’t have a lot of indoor areas and I kind of need that with my heat issues, but a lot has been added since we’d last been there. I had managed to get fast passes for the ride as I kept hearing good things about it and I have to admit, while the land wasn’t as amazing as Batuu, Pandora was still pretty cool: #gallery-0-43 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-43 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 50%; } #gallery-0-43 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-43 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Unfortunately, I can’t really say the same for the ride. It was pretty and sure, the Animatronic was impressive and very fluid, but it was just very… boring. Even most dark boat rides I’ve been on, there’s usually at least some… speeding up or amusing things to look at or some nice song or even a tiny drop, but this was literally just meandering around in a river in the dark and seeing some of the sights which, like I said, isn’t necessarily bad– I don’t regret going on it, but I don’t understand the hype and I would never go out of my way to do it again (and honestly, I’m not sure I would do it again even if I didn’t have to go out of my way).

On the bright side, we ended up eating at really lovely place– Tiffins. I loved the decor of it and while it was expensive, all the food was amazing. The drinks were really creative too. And that place alone may finally get my family to give Animal Kingdom another shot. And who doesn’t like seeing cute animals? #gallery-0-44 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-44 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-44 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-44 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

We also finally tried out the Frozen Ride which wasn’t too bad, but I do miss the old Norway boat ride. I really liked how the area for the line was decorated though.

In the end, we only went on about four rides total– besides the three mentioned above, we also went on Test Track again with our friend as it was his first time in Disney. I hope Disney will one day add an option to like… 3D-Print these over just getting it on a card. #gallery-0-45 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-45 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-45 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-45 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

Regardless, we at least got a lot of the big important things done. I just really hope our next trip goes much smoother. And with that, I just have one last thing to say: Til the Spires 😛

Incoming Transmission from Batuu (and the World of Disney) As tempting as it was to try and write this slightly in character, I've been sick these last several days so I'll try and lessen it, especially for those of you who read this blog and aren't particularly into Star Wars (That said, if anyone is here from…

[lightningmastertrilogy]

Path Of Lightning: Origins Chapter 10: The End, Copy cat, and the sand man.

Summary: Liz and Nosaru go on their first mission together, and end up facing unlikely oppenents.

Word count: 2.4k words.

Read chapter on wattpad.

Chapter:

They walked into the mission selection room. It was full of people, each selecting a job they find appropriate.

Liz pulled the device she received in the morning. It was in the form of a tablet. It contained members' profiles, missions' information and other things.

"So what is our mission?" She asked her partner who ignored her, still looking at the mission board. "If we're going to go on a mission together, then we need to work as a team." She said, looking annoyed with the girl’s dismissive behavior.

"Oh, and I suppose mercenaries are great at teamwork." Nosaru said, sparing her a quick glance, before transferring data toher tablet.

"Yes! We were great at teamwork!" Liz argued, throwing her hands around.

"Then why don't you go back to them?"

"I would if I could!" Liz muttered, crossed her arms then looked away. Her expression turned somber, which the blue haired girl noticed. She decided not to say anything.

Suddenly, Nosaru felt an arm being thrown over her shoulder, and pulling her close.

"Dear baby sister, what did I say about bullying people?" Aiko asked with a smile. The two stared at her, wide eyed, startled by her sudden appearance.

Where did she come from?!

"How-" Nosaru started to question, but her sister tightened her grip on her.

"I heard you two are going on your first mission together." Aiko said then shot the blonde a threatening look and a scary smile. "You better watch my sister's back out there!"

"YES MA'AM!" Liz answered immediately, scared by the woman Who knew what kind of experiments she could try on her if she didn't follow her orders.

"Good! Now you kids behave." Aiko patted them on the head then walked away.

Liz watched her for a moment, before whispering to the girl next to her.

"Your sister is scary."

"I know." Nosaru sighed then used her tablet. "Our job is here." She pointed at a red mark in the map. The blonde stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out where it was.

"That's too far!" She exclaimed, wondering how they could get there.

The blue haired girl gave her an annoyed look before taking the blonde's tablet, typing something then handing it back to her and prompting her to press the button.

Liz looked at her in suspicion, before pressing it.

She felt her body growing still and heavy for a moment, and she closed her eyes, only to open them and find herself somewhere else. It was a road in the middle of a desert.

"What…?" She mouthed in confusion, still trying to make sense of everything.

"Did you even read the instructions given to you about the device?" Nosaru asked and groaned when the blonde shook her head. "This device is what helps us travel to different places in no time. There are multiple areas marked by Aether. They are called save points. You can transport to them. This is also how you can access Aether without remembering the destination." She explained and started walking. "Our targets should be close."

Liz followed her, letting the information sink in. "You still haven't told me what our mission is." She said, annoyed by the girl's attitude.

"Some people are smuggling special weapons. You're aware of them, right?" Nosaru answered, still moving forward.

"You mean the ones that hold 'energy'? I heard of them." She heard about them from Jack, and they had few encounters with people who used them. “They’re used by normal people to make up for their lack of penergy.”

“Most times. Some people use them so they don’t overuse their own powers.”

They walked for a while, but there was still no sign of their targets. None of them talked, but Nosaru could feel the blonde silently staring at her, and it made her uncomfortable. After enduring it for a while, she finally had enough.

"I can feel you staring! Stop it!" Nosaru stated and turned to glare at her partner.

"Well, your sister did ask me to watch your back…" Liz said and was cut off when her partner gripped her by the collar and gave her a murderous look. "It was a joke." She said, raising both arms in defense.

"Behave." Nosaru said then let her go when she heard the sound of wheels getting closer. She looked at the tablet, and noticed their targets moving towards them.

She was about to summon one of her weapons but the blonde was faster.

Liz summoned a knife and threw it at the approaching vehicle. The knife hit the wheel and caused the car to violently turn around before crashing.

"How was that?" She asked smugly.

The blue haired girl gave her an unimpressed look. "That could have killed them and caused an explosion with all the weapons."

"You did not seem troubled when you were trying to kill me." The blonde said, placing her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow.

Nosaru rolled her eyes and walked towards the vehicle, while Liz pouted.

A green energy shot appeared from the smoke and targeted her, but she noticed it and summoned her shield to block it. The smoke disappeared and three guys stood there.

"You will regret attacking us!" One of them said. "I am The end! This one over here is Copy cat and that one is…" The one he was pointing at quickly interrupted him.

"MALIK! It's Malik, don't give me any strange names!" He said loudly, stopping his companion from saying anything embarrassing.

"… And we are going to crush you! Do you know how much this costs?" The end pointed at the vehicle.

"Uhh…" Liz and Nosaru glanced at each other than at the strange trio and shrugged. “I might have a question about the names?” Liz started, but did not receive an answer due to the third one’s outburst.

"Wait… G-GIRLS?! We're fighting GIRLS?" Malik froze from the fear upon noticing them.

Copy cat poked him but received no answer. "He'll recover." He said, while his other companion groaned.

Putting his goggles on, The end shot the ground beneath the girls making it explode and the two got separated avoiding the attack.

Nosaru jumped to the side and when she looked at where the trio stood, no one was there except for the traumatized Malik. She saw a shadow and looked up to see The end pointing his heavy looking gun at her in midair. She blocked the fire with her shield then unequipped it and threw her chain towards her enemy, snatching his gun from him and throwing it away.

The end landed and angrily pulled two pistols while Nosaru did the same. They fired at each other, and each bullet collided with another, therefore no shot hit its target. The end was about to run out of ammo so with a smirk, he freed one of his guns of it and threw it towards her before firing at it and causing an explosion.

His vision was blocked due to the sand, but he was sure he got her.

He smiled at his victory, but that smile was wiped away when a golden gauntlet collided with his face sending him flying backwards. He struggled as he tried to get up while she walked towards him.

Nosaru then felt a presence behind her and turned to see copy cat jumping at her with his twin Ryyk blades. However, Liz jumped towards him, kicking him away, and landing behind her. She looked at her with a smirk, and her scythe in hand.

"I did not need your help." Nosaru said, looking away. She can handle it on her own.

"You might be able to handle one person, but handling two can be complicated." Liz answered and stood behind her. They stood back to back as they faced their enemies. "They're working as a team. We should do the same."

She was right. Nosaru knew that, but she couldn't bring herself to trust this stranger. How could she trust her, when even her own father…

How could she trust her when even her own father betrayed her?

But she wasn't like him. If he was in her position, he would have relied on that thought and worked alone, but she wasn't like him.

She will never be like him.

Nosaru remained silent for a moment before sighting and saying. "I will take care of the shooter." Her answer made the blonde smile, but she kept her head turned away so her partner wouldn't see it.

"Then I will take the kitten down." Liz said and with that, and they both ran towards the smugglers.

Liz had confidence in her close combat skills, so she decided that attacking Copy cat would be the smartest option.

Liz equipped her scythe and attacked copy cat who blocked it with his blades. She tried again and again but he was able to block it. What bothered her was the fact that he did not try to attack her, he was defending instead.

She pulled away, and he did the same. She moved to the right, and he moved to the right. She raised her scythe and he did the same with his blades.

"I see. So that's why you call yourself Copy cat." She said and smirked. "He is copying every one of my moves and knows exactly what I'm going to do. He's trying to make me tired, isn't he?" She thought. An idea came to her, and she smirked while he carefully studied her.

She summoned a hammer with a huge head then jumped in the air, she then hit the ground with it since the cat jumped away, but the impact of the hit both made him almost lose his balance and slip. With the sand temporarily blinding him as well, Liz jumped at him with her scythe but he blocked it with his blades even though he was lying on the ground.

Groaning, he used his leg to hit her, but she balanced herself using the scythe's handle and jumped away. He got up quickly and went back to copying her moves as she attacked him.

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" She asked then equipped a knife. She did a drift and they were back to back, both blades moving to the other's back.

This was it, the last trick to against him.

The copy cat didn't notice any hesitation in her attack which made him afraid of getting hit. He pulled away at the last second which allowed her to grip his hand and hit him in the stomach with her knee, knocking him out.

When she turned to see how her partner was doing, she noticed that the end was also knocked out. So they were surprised when there was a sand storm around them.

They forgot about the third person.

Malik was moving his hands, controlling the sands. He used them to pull his partners away, and to cloud the girls’ vision. The end got up panting, and pulled one of the weapons they were smuggling, it was big and looked like a canon. The weapon started loading as he pointed it at them.

Nosaru looked around but was unable to see anything due to the storm. She tried to think of a way out, and much to her dismay, it involved her partner. "Liz! Can you hear me?" She yelled once she thought of a plan.

"Yeah! Where are you?! I can't see!" Liz's voice was heard from the distance, despite her attempts to locate her, she couldn't see her, so her voice was her only clue

"Catch this!" Nosaru yelled and threw the chain towards her partner's voice.

Fortunately, Liz had strong senses, so when she heard the chain's sound and gripped it. "Got it!"

Nosaru then focused her energy on her arms then pulled the chain making steady, before turning around and around and then once she had enough force, she lifted it up.

The chain was wrapped around Liz's arm, so she found herself up in the air and out the storm. She laughed at her partner's exciting plan, then equipped her scythe and attacked Malik who was surprised but managed to dodge.

The storm disappeared and an arrow was shot into the cannon's opening. The end looked up and saw Nosaru holding a golden bow and smiling smugly at him. He then gulped and fearfully looked down at the weapon. "Oh god-"It exploded.

Malik frowned and attacked the blonde with his sand but she dodged every time. She jumped in the air and lifted her scythe. He lifted his arms to shield himself. 

One strike was all it would take to kill him, and she knew it.

However, in that moment, the thought of Jack, and that coin during her talk with Bob, came to mind. Her eyes widened in realization.

She unequipped her scythe at the last moment, not hitting him.

He fell on his back, letting out a sigh of relief, while the blonde looked shocked for a moment.

“Honestly, girls are so terrifying…” He muttered to himself, but to his misfortune, the girl before him was a half demon, and has strong hearing.

"What? Do you hate girls?" She asked.

He looked at her, uncertain before answering. "They are scary and mean and…"

"Why do you think that?"

"You were literally about to kill me!" He said, and she chuckled nervously. “Besides, they’re always mean to me.”

Feeling sorry for the guy, Liz sat down before him. "Come on, tell me your story."

"It all started with that girl in school who bullied me…"

Nosaru stared at the scene in disbelief and raised her hands and was about to say something, then closed her mouth, watching the strange interaction.

"I'm sorry, but not all girls are scary! I can be your friend!" Liz smiled at him and shook his hand. "My name is Liz! The scary one over there is Nosaru."

"Are you two done?" Nosaru asked in a calm yet threatening tone. "The three of you are coming with us." Malik looked back to his friends, who were both tied up and unconscious.

"YES MA'AM!" Malik answered, scared of her.

"Mission accomplished!" Liz said and raised a fist to her partner who stared at her suspiciously. "Oh come on! Let's celebrate it with a fist bump!" She looked at her with a smile and hopeful eyes.

After studying her for a while, Nosaru rolled her eyes then gave her a fist bump. "Are you happy now?"

"See? I wasn't such a bad partner, right?"

"You were fine." Nosaru said then looked down unsure of what to say. "Thanks for…watching my back."

Liz smiled at the unusual kindness. "You're welcome, partner."

Next chapter: We all have scars.

[chubbyooo]

Blurred Lines : Chapter 4 - Gacen

chapter four adding everyone favorite depressed smuggler 

Ash looks after the ship while Gacen bums around the ship (writing this made me proper sad :( why do i do this to my precious children)

Ash was setting the ship up for a hyperspace jump, they had a long way to go to deliver their cargo so best settle in for a long night. She couldn’t think straight at the moment, she hadn’t seen Gacen in a couple hours which could be very bad, she wanted to go find him but knew she had to not smother him that would just make it worse. 

As if in response to her worry she heard him enter the cockpit. “hey Ash you got the route setup” he said as he plopped down into the co-pilots chair feet up on the controls

“Yeah I've got the route plotted and we’re ready to go into hyperspace” she was rather new to piloting but thought she’d been picking it up fairly fast with Gacen’s help

“I should probably check just in case don’t wanna end up inside a giant space worm or something” he said with a slight chuckle, he leaned over the console catching himself on about 10 buttons “don’t worry about that it’s probably unimportant” Ash made a mental note of which buttons to reset once he had finished. “pretty good but look here” he pointed at a point in the route near a black hole “this is a bit too close to the black hole it’s probably best not to risk it” 

Ash was surprised “but I've calculated the risk and it’s small enough that making that journey will be worth it to get us there sooner” made sense to her they would get paid more even if there was damage

“yeah i know but better safe than sorry right, also if we add” he pointed to another star “this we can pick up lunch at a place that actually serves good food rather than bug food” he made a good point usually food at the drop offs was quite unenjoyable

“alright sure why not” Ash said probably best not to press it

“excellent” he said moving back to his reclined position, he slipped for a second and nearly fell over “I’m fine i’m fine don’t worry” he said scrambling back into his seat

“I wasn’t worried” Ash said with her arms folded she swore he’d lose his head without her “so you doing okay?” she asked probably best to at least ask

“what do you mean” Gacen said with a puzzled look on his face

hmmm she didn’t want to be too obvious “you been stable” she said with an eyebrow raised

“oh cmon Ash trust me i’m fine you’d know if there was a problem trust me” exactly that’s why she was worried but he was right she should trust him

“okay good i’m gonna bump this into hyperspace we got a while in there so make sure you don’t get too bored” she said hopefully implying the right thing

“yeah i’m gonna take a nap easiest way to combat boredom” he said with a smile he walked out the cabin with his usual chipper walk which was a good sign. 

Ash stayed at the console for a bit making sure that every precaution was taken before leaving it to make the trip, she had an alert for if they came out of hyperspace, a remote pilot, the list went on. She had tried to install some upgrades to the ship after agreeing to join Gacens crew, the ship was royally unequipped and could fall apart any minute, now it could probably manage the Kessel run, Gacen said that was some kind of hard maneuver or something. Speaking of Gacen a nap didn’t seem like the worst idea and it would be good to check on him. 

Ash got up and made her way to the bunks but when she arrived there was no sign of Gacen oh no this was bad she began to look for him checking for alcohol as she went there was none last time she checked, she made sure of it. None in the kitchen area but his hiding spots were more of the issue, None in the chess table good, none in the holopad and none in the medbay hidden as medicine. This meant he either already had it and he had a lot or Ash was overreacting. 

Where was he though? she’d normally found him by now, she searched the ship one more time and still couldn’t find him in any room, the only place he could still be is in the turret. She made her way to the bottom of the turret “Gacen? you up there” She could see his feet but still polite to ask

“huh wha-- oh hey Ash what’s up” Gacen seemed disorientated which was a very bad sign

“what are you doing up there i thought you were having a nap?” god this was going so wrong he better not be drinking himself to death up there

“nap? oh well... i like to nap up here sometimes ya know the hyperspace trails they’re cool n stuff” that’s a suprisingly good lie but his stupor and dazy way of speaking was giving it away big time

She would have to trick him down “well i’m going to take a nap so need someone up front” obligation seemed a good road to take

“oh well... sure i can do that i guess give me a minute to come down you just go ahead and go to bed” yeah sure and leave you like that fat chance at least he wasn’t slurring his words 

Ash had to keep this charade up so went to the bunks but stayed awake. She heard a loud crash about 2 minutes later and made her way to the bar area fists clenched. Gacen was sat there on the floor drinking from a flask “uh A---Ash um this uh where did this flask come from” he said barely comprehensible “i think it’s haunted” 

“God dammit Gacen why do you keep doing this” Ash was shouting now this was not the first time and she was really trying to help him she was furious 

“alright fine okay i can’t do it are you happy now you win I’m a drunk and you’re in control” Gacen said retreating into himself beginning to drink more from the flask

“this is not what i want Gacen i want to help you why do you want to do this to yourself” she said snatching the flask from Gacens hands

“you know damn well why, everything is garbage, everyone leaves and i’m left alone i can’t do it anymore it’s too hard” he said trying to stand up but stumbling back to his knees

“so what you’d rather just drink yourself to death” Ash was really trying she had a lot of patience for him because of all he’d done for her but she could not tolerate that

“YES i would what’s the point in not i don’t exactly have any family who would be sad about it” Gacen seemed so lost Ash had no idea what to do she was terrible at talking to people regularly how did she bring her best friend out of this

 “how do you know if there’s a point if you’re never sober hell when was the last time that you were” Ash really hoped that would it through to him

“i don’t wanna be sober because then i start thinking and when i start thinking i can’t stop and feel just as bad” Ash knew he’d been through a lot but he still hadn’t told him half of the story how was she supposed to help if he wouldn’t open up

“please tell me when was the last time that you were sober” she needed to know how long she had been lied to

“a little after we got out of Belsavis, what do you care anyway?” WHAT a little after Belsavis the whole time they’d been working together she was utterly furious she wanted to slap him so bad but contained herself 

“of course i fucking care Gacen i’m not angry at you for no reason i’m angry because you’re my friend and i want my friend back the one who could bring me out of a bad mood with his stupid jokes and show me right from wrong when i was too stubborn to understand. You’re not the only one who lost people you’re all I've got now but i don’t know if i can keep doing this if you’re always drinking trying to die of alcohol poisoning” Ash was tearing up at this point she wasn’t familiar with this sensation what do people normally do with tears where do they go?

Gacens face changed though maybe it worked “oh i...i just thought you wanted me to be better so i could help” Ash was shocked did he really not realize that she just needed her friend back “you really want me to be better for me?”

“of course i do i know i’m not good at showing it but i really care about you Gacen, please just get better for me?” Ash didn’t like admitting these sort of things but this seemed like it was worth it

“Okay Ash i’ll try i promise it’ll be a slow process and i’m still gonna drink but i won’t drink myself to death” Gacen said with a half smile that was a half victory for Ash it’s better than nothing and he at least understood now.

“okay thanks buddy i really appreciate it” Ash needed a rest after that she felt so overwhelmed.

“good now i’m gonna take a nap on this nice cold floor i’ll see you in the morning” with that his head hit the metal and he passed out

Ash picked him up and moved him too the bed, even as dead weight he was the easiest thing to carry. “good night Gacen you stupid fool” Ash said with a smile and left him...

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Our Tuesday wound up being one…

Loooooooooong…

Day.

Don't know what to tell you, it felt like using the Disney buses to get around was a pretty efficient strategy.

So.

After our Blizzard Beach experience was over yesterday afternoon, the girls took to Disney Hollywood Studios whilst we returned happily to the Animal Kingdom where we spent our morning.

We started with the It's Tough To Be A Bug experience because we're still kinda sore they took it away from California Disney.

It's still the blast we remember in interactive 3D complete with water and fog, crawling insects and dangling black widow spiders all making appearances inside the auditorium, not simply on screen.

Once the bug show was over, we headed over to Pandora for the Na'vi River Journey and then Avatar Flight of Passage.

Now the Na'vi River Journey's basically Pirates of the Caribbean without the shooting or the pirates. Just a peaceful floating on an alien river, immersed in an alien jungle environment complete with plant life, living organisms, and animals.

The Avatar Flight of Passage, though?

That was a crazy, breathtaking, original, headrush of an experience. They put you on that planet, plunging from high cliff tops to low valleys and oceans through jungle foliage, above villages, and away from flying predators… all on the back of a banshee.

It.

Was.

Amazing.

Incredible.

Unimaginable.

As in unimaginable that the experience we were having was actually possible. The imagery completely filled our visual fields and then some. The detail was incredible. And we travelled such distance both horizontally and vertically.

All.

While going.

Nowhere.

Not even off the ground.

Crazy. And wow.

Wow.

Wow.

And wow.

We finished that ride around 545, shortly before it was time for the park to close. And so, we followed through on an earlier plan we conjured and grabbed a bus for Epcot.

Cute thing about that bus ride: there was a tiny kid on that bus who was so fascinated by buses that he pointed them out, each one, every time, to his dad.

Or as he said, Daa-dee.

He'd exclaim in genuine excitement each time,

"Daa-dee, bus!"

"Daa-dee, bus!"

"Daa-dee, bus!"

Until he spotted Epcot at which point he exclaimed

"Daa-dee, ball!"

It was seriously cute.

Having been dropped off at Epcot, we made a beeline for the pork sliders 'n drinks, after which we ran into Linzy nearby who took us over to Mexico where Rachel was grieving a hugely disappointing margarita.

Now it's time to end our day and maybe score some easy rides over at the Magic Kingdom as every family lines up for the evening's parade as well as a well-earned trip back to the hotel.

On the monorail connecting Epcot and the Magic Kingdom, we're in a car with a family of five who're having a really.

Loooooooo9ng.

Day.

When we pulled into the station in front of the Magic Kingdom, we gotta announcement that the Magic Kingdom monorail was out of commision so we'd all be taken by ferry.

A lovely. Beautiful. Painterly experience.

See what I mean?

Once inside the park, we hustled straight for the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad that continued to be the blast we always remember. The second section of the track, especially, it was funny to watch Linzy throw her hands and arms in the air and be flipped to the side like a rag doll as the train went into a high-G bank. After that, we crossed the street to Splash Mountain where, after a bit of delay, we joined a young, newly wed couple for a huge drop from which they absolutely took a ton of displaced water head-on.

Call it the "splash" of "Splash Mountain".

It was a blast even with the delays before and after.

😁😁😁

Once again, by the time we exited that ride... the park was closed except for everyone who was there for the Boo Bash, a celebration of Halloween on a full-on summer's eve when, presumably, Covid would be less a threat.

Once we were out the front gates, it was clear how much of a mess everything was with everyone previously in the park now lined up for the monorails and ferries.

After a quick assessing and reassessing, Kimmer 'n Linzy decided our best course was to catch a nearby shuttle to the Polynesian Resort and, from there, call for a Lyft.

It was an effective way to beat most of the throng to the other side of the lake as well as avoid competition with all those who'd be calling in their own ride shares that would make for an inevitably longer wait.

The plan worked perfectly, by the way. And our feet were super thankful.

It would be around 10:40PM by the time we arrived at our home base pretty exhausted.

Still, the next morning, this morning, we did the 530AM thing again. And again, not as bad as it sounds. It's a slow moving ritual that eventually, eventually brings us full consciousness and into a state of readiness for the day.

So eight this morning? We're on the road with our Lyft driver, Gregorio, a Venezuelan gentleman with a deep knowledge of classical music leaning hard toward the Russians: Shostakovitch, Prokofiev, Stravinsky, and their contemporaries.

Our destination this morning is Disney's Hollywood Studios where we've got all things Star Wars on the agenda.

That proved an unfortunate aspiration as we'd made no moves to join the virtual queue for Rise of the Resistance and we had no actual design on Smugglers Run… so we took full advantage of the five minute, basically walk on, "wait" time over at Toy Story Midway Mania and had a literal blast.

This was a first for Rachel so she scored newbie scores. Between Kimmer 'n I, Kimmer was the most accurate between us, maintaining a significant lead most of the game. It's only in the bomus speed round at the end where I caught up to her and bested her by one smashed plate.

120,600 to 120,100.

Of course Linzy clocked in at 154,000.

Beat us all.

Now one thing I wanna mention is that on our way to Star Wars Land there was a group of young adults wearing bright neon t-shirts and walking alongside us. Some of them were walking pretty brusquely which prompted the following:

"Guys, there's no crowd. We can slow down."

Of course they don't slow down... they speed up.

At which point she says

"Well, thanks for taking my feelings into account."

☹️☹️☹️

Another thing I wanna point out is when we were just getting in line at Midway Mania, a kid runs up and starts walking along… which prompts his mother to say

"Sweetie. You're with the wrong family."

And then last thing I wanna mention is this young girl who was in line behind is for Aerosmith's Rockin' Rollercoaster. She was with her parents but obviously anxious about the ride. I don't blame her either. When that thing takes off from an absolute standstill… it looks like someone just hit the fast forward button.

Crazy stuff. And plenty to be anxious about.

Anyway, Rachel talked to her a little to encourage her 'cause she'd felt that same anxiety the day before.

So then we do the ride… and then the little girl and her parents do the ride. And I'll never forget when her aunt who was standing next to us just then asked her how it went… and all the little girl could do was to twice shake her head quickly from side to side. Whereupon her parents immediately got to work figuring out how many hugs to give and things to buy in order to pull her from her state of stunned silence.

Afterward we hit a light breakfast nearby then headed off for Star Tours. Rachel indulged some time Star Wars gift shopping afterward… then she 'n Rachel headed off for more rides while we mosied over to the Brown Derby patio for a pair of cool grapefruit drinks under an umbrella 'cause the SciFi Diner was booked as was the main seating area of the Brown Derby.

By the way, while we're sitting there enjoying ourselves, I happened to catch a family of four whose t-shirt uniform was Iron Maiden.

Dang.

That's all for now. We're heading back to home base for some peace and rest.

We'll see how long that lasts and then I'll fill you in on the rest of the night...

[dansnaturepictures]

My 10 Wildlife/Photography Highlights of 2017-Blog 4: The many New Forest visits

Every year there is one place that dominates my wildlife/photography interest, the truly wild and magical national park I live very near to, the New Forest. I am proud to call this beautiful place part of my home and make the most of it every week, month and year exploring all it has to offer. I managed to capture many of my best landscapes from a great year for them for me in the New Forest, like the first 4 pictures in this photoset; sun shining through trees at Ibsley Common, a misty scene at Eyeworth Pond where I’ve had a particularly good year with many great wildlife encounters too, Rockford Common and a boggy scene at Smugglers Road.

What really sets the New Forest apart from other British national parks for me is its diversity in wildlife caused by habitat range and presence of many rare species. This year I enjoyed many of the specialities like seeing my first Crossbill of the year one of my greatest birds in January at Blackwater, seeing one there again in November alongside several Hawfinches a top bird which I had to wait a bit to see in 2017 and seeing the Fieldfare in the 5th picture in this photoset in a field at Harbridge in January too. Harbridge is near to one of the greatest New Forest nature reserves Blashford Lakes where I have had another brilliant year, seeing Siskin, Brambling, Goldeneye, Garden Warbler, Little Ringed Plover, Grey Phalarope, Yellow-legged Gull, my first ever Black Tern, Ferruginous Duck and Pink-footed Goose as I mentioned in the main birds highlights blog and much more. In my first year of visiting this reserve 2008 I saw at least one new bird on every trip in very different times for me only a year and a bit into birdwatching. But it’s nice to know I can still see things I never have here. I took lots of photographs I was proud of there too like the Black-headed Gulls in the 6th picture in this photoset and achieved my dream of a decent Kingfisher photograph there in September. In early winter I saw a Brambling high in a tree at Milkham when loads were being seen across the forest, this was the first time I’d ever seen a Brambling outside Blashford. 

In July at Fritham I finally saw my first iconic New Forest Dartford Warbler of the year, this favourite bird of mine had eluded me for longer than I was used to in 2017. This same afternoon I saw a couple of herds of Fallow Deers at Fritham and at Stoney Cross on the way home which was brilliant to see and I got to enjoy these one of my favourite mammals a lot in 2017. A Jack Snipe was another true New Forest favourite I saw in a boggy area at Shatterford, as were Redstarts that I saw at Eyeworth Pond especially this year, and a Raven soaring and barking over Denny Wood in October epitomized the wilderness of the New Forest for me. The next day I saw again the lovely Ring Ouzels at Leaden Hall which pass through at that time of year, taking my bird year list level with my record of last year at that stage, one of three new birds from last year which I also saw this year it was one of my greatest birds of the year. Eyeworth Pond a place where I felt the amazing escapism the New Forest gives me so much on a visit there on Thursday also brought me a reunion with one of my favourite birds the Cuckoo which I hadn’t seen since 2015 when I saw one and photographed maybe the same one or a different one in the 7th picture in this photoset here in May which was part of an incredible run I had with them being extremely lucky enough to hear them on about 9 or so different occasions mostly at New Forest locations. In spring 2017 I think I heard the highest amount of Cuckoos in one season since my amazing spring of 2011 when I heard one at nearly every place I went in the New Forest over this time and saw my first ever. As I mentioned in my favourite birds highlights blog perhaps one of the moments of the year was seeing another of my favourite birds the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker again at the wonderful Pig Bush where my dreams came true and I saw one in 2014, this moment brought me so much joy to see this bird and is another New Forest moment I will just never forget one of my greatest birdwatching moments ever. When I returned to Pig Bush in August I got an extraordinary for the time of year hat trick of bird year ticks in a day, Stock Dove, Spotted Flycatcher and a Willow Warblers including a very yellow one, the latter two are real New Forest specialities in late summer.

The day after that Lesser Spotted Woodpecker sighting I saw a Garganey another of my greatest birds in my big 2017 in the Pennington part of the Lymington-Keyahevn reserve. I had a top year at this reserve too seeing some great things such as Spotted Redshank, Slavonian Grebe, Spoonbill, Bar-tailed Godwit, Grey Phalarope, Bearded Tit in the 8th picture in this photoset and the Little Tern in the 9th picture in this photoset. This photo was quite a big one for me this year of this fantastic bird as I entered it into the New Forest online Seasonal Snaps spring competition and was voted 1st place. This picture summed up a brilliant spring and wild New Forest moment for me and I have always been very proud of it but for it to win this competition and become my 4th such achievement and second in this competition was something that really made me feel very happy and humbled. Everything I achieved with this photo was a true highlight of my 2017.

Something I really enjoyed more than ever in the New Forest this year were the ponies, not just the New Forest ones but Shetland too especially during the breeding season. I produced a few pony and foal pictures I was proud of this year like the 10th picture in this photoset of a Shetland one named Pumpkin. On the subject of grazing animals it was surreal to see two donkeys running along and racing beside our car driving through the New Forest in October, we’d not seen many run before. This came after seeing some pigs out for pannage a real highlight of the New Forest year which I mention extensively in my autumn highlights post going out next Tuesday. At the height of a heat wave in mid-late June on a trip to Bolderwood I saw New Forest wildlife at its finest, one of my favourite butterflies the Silver-studded Blue beautifully flitting about a heath and lots of dragonfly and damselfly species by the water like Golden-ringed Dragonfly, Keeled Skimmer, Common Darter, Common Blue and Large Red Damselflies and many Beautiful Demoiselles. It was amazing to see so many Redwings flying there which I obviously saw and photographed today at a slightly different part of Bolderwood when visiting the same spot earlier this month, probably more than I’ve seen on a day before it was extraordinary, these birds certainly seem to have come in numbers this winter. I saw lots of Silver-studded Blues in the forest this summer as well as other of my favourite butterflies the Common Grayling and Silver-washed Fritillary especially at Whitefield Moor and Standing Hat respectively which the forest’s heaths and woods are so good for.

In August I did the New Forest tour again, when three coloured open top buses all of which we went on show tourists and locals alike the delights of the New Forest and tell a variety of local historical and cultural tales. It's become a bit of a tradition for me and my Dad, who doesn't accompany me to any of my regular New Forest walks now, to do this tour in the summer and it’s a great way to see so much of the forest. On our 2017 tour we got to appreciate stunning views again, I was particularly impressed the heather as it was at its beautiful best when we did the tour and the lovely water vistas the green route shows us at Hatchet Pond and Beaulieu. I enjoyed a great range of costal wildlife especially birds when we stopped off at Sturt Pond in Milford and walked to Keyhaven. The next day me and my Mum went for an afternoon tea at the wonderful Rhinefield House hotel, it was lovely to see inside a house I see looming in the distance on Whitefield Moor’s heath often.

This is the disclaimer I close this post with every year which says that my 9th highlights blog posted next Tuesday is about my autumnal experiences this year and most of them happen in the New Forest, I don’t like to write things twice really but autumn is a big part of why I love the New Forest too so the autumn blog becomes a bit of a continuation of the New Forest one.

[gryffnwing-blog]

On Metamorphosis 2.0, and the state of Magic the Gathering.

Woo Nelly. Did we get some announcements today. Of course I’m talking about the article title Metamorphosis 2.0.  While everyone is talking about the news, I want to break it down in a few ways. The Good, the Bad, and the Unsettling. I’m talking about this in terms of being a consumer, and as a future LGS owner. I also want to cover the state of the game as a whole. Now before I talk about the game itself. Please note, I haven’t played the Standard format since Jeskai Ascendancy combo was a thing. So about two-three years since I last played standard. I do keep up with the conversations, and in fact take a look at a set as a whole for the Standard format.

Where are we in the game of Magic the Gathering? To put it bluntly, we’re lost. We went from a very low powered sets; i.e Theros, and power creep slowly built up with the Khans of Tarkir block. Then we hit a snag, Battle of Zendikar. Our first two set block. For Standard, the block was moderately received. Where modern got trampled by Eldrazi. Then followed Shadows Over Innistrad. Here we got a few decks that became popular, due to the block itself. Finally we come to Kaladesh, which added some cards to our previous decks. Shadows had Black Green  Delirium, which then added AetherWorks Marvel. Marvel becoming it’s own deck. Delerium also got a card in Smugglers Copter. 

These are things that make good game design. By that I mean, you can have two completely different sets, that can add, or improve previous choices made for past products. Now I will not say Copter was healthy for the game, but I will say the idea of a card that could help fuel the Graveyard, in a block that had no Graveyard theme, but helps out a previous block. That’s good (should have costed 3 mana and crew 3, but I digress). Before Aether Revolts release, we had roughly four decks that were in the top decks to play in Standard. They were, Blue/white flicker, Black/ Green Delirium, Black/ Green counters, Aetherworks Marvel, and the beginnings of Vehicles. Suddenly we got our first Standard Banning since Jace the Mindsculptor. Three cards in Emrakul the Promised end, Smugglers Copter, and Reflector mage. The first two were quite strong, and in the case of Emrakul, un-fun. Something about taking over an opponents turn equates to un-fun. The matter of Copter was to slow down the Delirium decks, and Reflector Mage was preemptive. That word, preemptive should stand out. Finally, Aether Revolt was being spoiled, and what we got was this: 

A combo piece, similar to that of a banned modern combo; Splinter Twin. Guardian paired with Saheeli Rai made a turn four win. The moment this was spoiled, Saheeli went from a $5-$7 card, to a $20+ over night. Many players, myself included were happy for a combo deck in Standard, but dumbfounded as to how this slipped through R&D. At this time we had a single deck now dominating Standard, in Vehicles, and it seemed like the Combo would be the answer. Well then two decks became dominate. Mardu vehicles, because Aether Revolt gave them more fuel, and now the Saheeli Combo. Standard for a lack of a better term was shit. Local FMN’s were dying. I say this as a person who was drafting at the time, and playing Commander while event’s were firing at the time...or mis-firing. Now yes, Drafts can make a store a bit more money than Standard, and it moves product. Though local FNMs, especially Standard ones bring in a crowd of people who either A), don’t like draft, B) may not be able to afford the $10-$15 weekly price, or  C) measure someones skill and the hopes of improving for larger scale events. If standard isn’t doing well, the store does indeed suffer. Less people show up, which means less product moves and sales hinder.  Come to the Amonkhet ban&restricted update. Everyone was bracing for the Saheeli ban, among other cards. We didn’t get it. Collectors and players sighed a bit of relief. The investments they made were safe, but the game would suffer. Come three days later, and there was an addendum. Guardian was banned, I mean that’s better than banning the Mythic rare, right? Well not really. Saheeli tanked in price, and trust was lost. Banning cards always hurts moral, but the issue was that it should have happened on the day of the announcement. Not after. All this time we went from a 18 month rotation back to the original two year rotation. So players were in fact furious that for two years, we’d have Saheeli combo. This was another decision that Wizards went back on. It seems each new change they were introducing they were taking a step back on. Come to today. Amonkhet has been out for a few months, there are decks that have been made from the block itself. This in turn is due to said bannings. Now here is the issue, Amonkhet’s power level is much lower than the previous two blocks. What does this mean? Power creep is normal, and yes, to balance things out we would want other sets to either have a lower power creep, or stay on the curve. The issue is, when a set cannot carry itself, it fails in design, play-ability, and fun. Which translates to slow selling, and loss of profits. Now let us talk about today’s news, Metamorphosis 2.0. “Finally!” The first change is to the block’s themselves. Well, we don’t have blocks. Blocks went from three sets done over the course of a year, to two sets which made two blocks a year. Now with the two-block paradigm we had a large set and a small set. The large set containing roughly 280 cards, and the small set to around 190-ish. With each set being a large set, we are not given information on if these sets will be larger the current large sets. This also means for story purposes, that more than one set could indeed be tied to one story. Where with the current block paradigm, they are connected through the Gatewatch. Onto the Gatewatch. I personally have a love/ hate relationship with these characters. Now moving forward, they will have less Planeswalker cards. I mean I’m now said that I won’t be able to run a deck with 4 different Nissa’s, 3 different Gideon’s, and 3 different Chandra’s. While they will still have a connection, it will mostly be story. Which is great. Some sets we might have one or two, and other sets none. This leads to more creative Planeswalker cards being made. The next things to bring up is the Master pieces. These helped sets sell. These premium cards made for packs and boxes to sell, but upon Amonkhet, the hype for them diminished. Mostly due to hard to read font, and Amonkhet’s lack of cohesiveness. They will be in sets that make sense. My take on that is maybe once a year. A set should be able to carry itself on it’s own cards, and not on the chance of pulling a $100+ card. Though now I worry. The idea was behnd Masterpieces was to increase the purchase of sets, to make Standard cheaper. Let’s see how this affects the market in later sets. The Return of corsets. Ok as a player and as someone involved with LGS’ I was lost when the announced the removal of Coresets. Orignally corsets were just reprints, and upon the release of the M20 series, they started adding in new cards. Both to have older players buy in, and give newer players a chance to get some good classics. When Magic Origins was released, that was the “final” corset. With I believe all new cards only, and the beginning of each Gatewatch members story. We felt the hit of the lack of reprints. Though Wizard’s did say to us that going forward reprints would be in sets that needed them. I have no recollection of seeing much needed reprints in a recent standard set. Let’s talk about the Good :)

- Larger sets are more defined, and if we stay on worlds for much longer, we have mechanics that could overlap.  - There is the same amount of sets to a year, but more cards.

- While the Gatewatch is meant to connect the players to the worlds, having the same amount of characters as cards is annoying. We now have the ability to see new and interesting characters and card designs.

- We now have a dedicated team to working on Standard. I hope this translates to “Less to zero bannings” - While Master pieces are not leaving, they are going to worked upon and improved. Let’s talk about the Bad :(

- Less master pieces might mean standard prices going up.

- Coresets returning while good for reprints could cause speculators to drive prices up for cards not getting a reprint.

Let’s talk about the unsettling @.@

- This is yet another huge change in the past year. It seems as though Wizards keeps retracting anything they do. This causes players, and LGS’s to lose faith in that they’re being told.

- While we have a new Play test team, will other formats be ignored? I say this, knowing that they design for Standard and Sealed.  - Again I’m going to talk about Master Pieces. Upon the announcement for Amonkhet, we were told that moving forward each block would have them. Because of how poorly received Amonkhet’s Invocations were, they are now saying that they are taking a step back. They work two years in “advance”, and numerous time have mentioned to us that they have marketing tools that let them know what players want. Well then, how did the Invocations happen? Why tell us last year that we are getting them all the time, and then after one failure go “oops, we take it back”. - Coresets returning is great, but again we were told that consumers and stores didn’t like them. Now all of a sudden they’re back? Decisions this big need a few years to look at, especially when telling your audience that “Well you’ve been telling us this whole time.”  - Does this mean rotation will end up changing again? That’s a question that worries me. As always, thanks for reading. What do you think about these changes? What do you think could be done to improve Magic as a whole? Do you love or hate how Magic is at the moment? Until the next article. Gryffnwing~

[apsbicepstraining]

The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’

Ultra-running is one of the worlds fastest growing sports, generally taking place in remote, scenic landscapes. Not an athletics way in London. Will opponents contact nirvana?

I hallucinated, of course. I ever do, Pat Seabrook says. She is 76 and has expended the past 24 hours flowing round a 400 m athletics track in Tooting, south London. She sits in the front seat of her car, peeling plasters off her toes. At some degree I began to think the white routes on the trail were lassoes, rising up around me, and I was pushing them away. She chortles: Frequently I run with my friend and we take turns to hallucinate.

Along with 44 other athletes, Seabrook has just vied in the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence 24 -hour Track Race. Ultra-running, in which opponents take part in hastens longer than a marathon and often 100 miles or more, is one of the fastest growing sports in the world, with brand-new races propelling all the time; the most difficult ones have been forced to introduce lottery to systematically cope with the numbers who want to enter. But part of the appeal of these races is that they usually take place amid some of the worlds most remote and scenic landscapes, such as the Sahara or the Rockies. Not around a line in Tooting.

Paul Corderoy: You can get into that infinite; a few laps go by and you dont realise it. Photograph: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

The winner, James Stewart, moves a mind-boggling 160 miles over the course of the day. Its hard to comprehend, watching him plug away, lap after lap: 160 miles, without going anywhere. He could have moved all the way to Cardiff, but hes still here, on the trail in Tooting.

Seabrook is the oldest opponent here and considers 83 miles during the course of its race. Its not that great, she says, gathering off another plaster. Last year I operated 87. As well as innumerable 24 -hour races, she has also move 456 marathons. She didnt even start loping until her late 40 s, when all her children had grown up and left home. I required something to prevent me busy, Seabrook says. What else am I going to do on a Saturday?

Yet in spite of her low-key attitude, something else is going on here. The race was started virtually 30 years ago by adherents of the late Indian spiritual coach Sri Chinmoy, who believed that ranging was integral to a spiritual life.

In 1977, Chinmoy started a marathon team, which started putting on races in New York and is now one of the most important organisers of perseverance happens around the world. While most of the voluntaries and organisers in Tooting are adherents of his teaches, only one of the smugglers, Mahasatya Janczak from Poland, is part of the Sri Chinmoy unit. He has done the race twice before. Does he find self-transcendence through it? At minutes, certainly, he responds, a shimmer in his eyes. Its truly something. You can only understand it if you try it.

Pat Seabrook, aged 76, is the oldest challenger. I necessary something to deter me busy. Image: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

Diana Celeiro has come the whole way from Argentina for the hasten. Its her second experience here. Her husband, Gustavo, acts as her reinforce gang. Most of the smugglers have someone who accepts diligently by the track watching, offering encouragement, devising snacks or helping with any issues that arise, from sores to emotional failures. Some of the approval crews have brought tents; one family even has a motorhome parked up on the edge of the track. A few of the smugglers have no gang and have just set up a table on the grass or, in one athletes speciman, an ironing board laden with their supplies.

Some allies disappear dwelling or to a hotel on the night for some sleep. Gustavo, though, puts vigilant throughout, always smiling. This is different from flowing 100 miles in the mountains, he says. When “youre running” 100 miles all around a way, it is a battle with your mind.

I expect how his wife is, after completing a race like this. Very quiet, he says. Almost dead.

In Japan, monks on Mount Hiei run 1,000 marathons in 1,000 daylights in a effort to reach enlightenment. One of the monks once told him that the idea behind the constant shift is to spend the memory, the body, everything, until nothing is left and you are almost dead. When you are nothing, then something pop! comes up to crowded the cavity, he said, miming a bubble popping. That something, he told me, is the immense consciousness that lies below the surface of our lives a feeling of oneness with the universe.

Diana Celeiro has travelled from Argentina for the race. Photograph: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

None of the athletes here in Beeping vocalises it quite so lucidly, but there are peeks of something deeper than PBs and course accounts. Sometimes, you can get into that opening; a few laps go by and you dont realise it, Paul Corderoy says.

Theres a nowness to it, thats for sure, says Jamie Holmes, a management consultant who lives less than a mile from the racetrack. He has recently completed the famous Spartathalon ultra-marathon in Greece, which is 153 miles. When I ask why he remains doing such long races, he says he cant certainly made a statement in explanation, but thinks hes trying to break himself. I suppose Im trying to find my restriction, he says. Perhaps when I find it, Ill stop.

Shankara Smith, the race director, says that the biggest challenge is yourself. Sri Chinmoy used to say its not mind over thing, but middle over attention. If you cant stillnes that brain, then you cant do it, because your brain will tell you you cant. Here, you cant tell yourself its you versus that mountain, because there is no mountain. Its merely you versus you.

Smith has watched the hasten each year since it started in 1989, when her father was the hasten director. I desire it, she says. If youre here at 3am, the city is quiet , nothing is going on, but on the line, the atmosphere is zinging. But too peaceful.

I spend a few hours watching the smugglers lap the racetrack. Everyone seems in good spirits; its a chilly, overcast afternoon, which is fine for the runners, and while a few have gone off rapidly at the front, most are running well within themselves, chitchatting to one another and joking with the officials. I decide to get some food and rest.

Driving back to the line at 3am, I find it hard to imagine they are all still moving but, for sure, out on the floodlit line 15 hours after they started, the smugglers are still going around and around. About 10( principally those who started at the figurehead in the first few hours) have discontinued out.

Many challengers are strolling, often with difficulty, by the time darkness descends. Photo: Adharanand Finn for the Guardian

Some of those left look as if theyre in pain, their trot modes twisted and contorted. Many are amble, but even that gazes difficult. One boy with a shaven chief is walking gradually with his fists clenched; he examines as if he wants to punch person. They have nine hours left to go.

Some parties stand out, mollifies and compiled. One of them is 68-year-old Ann Bath. Shes not very fast, shes a little inclination over, but she used merciles. While others rarely stop for a rub, or to eat something, she presses serenely on, never stopping. In the end, she extends an incredible 116 miles, an age-group macrocosm record.

Holmes, the management consultant, smiles when he sees me again. He is now ambling cautiously and his knee is heavily buckled. I envisage Ive felt my restriction, he says. At the end of every lap, the runners elapse a tent full of the persons with big clipboards and rolls of numbers. The lap bars have to wave to their smuggler each time to show theyve registered the lap, and the runners typically curve back to double check their lap has been counted. As the hours change, an intimacy builds up. They get to know one another well, there are still lots of chuckling and joking. The athletes say it devotes them a lift.

Ann Bath lopes 116 miles, an age-group macrocosm record. Image: Marietta dErlanger for the Guardian

Some hastens, you have a chipping counter tied to your shoe, one runner tells me, but what I like about this race is that you have people doing it.

Another runner and his bar “ve tried to” call a new animal each lap. After a while, the runner, his psyche frazzled, stops and reclines on the table line. I cant think up any more, he says. Im done. No, await, flamingo! And, with that, hes off again.

Youre looking great, one of the lap counters wail to Holmes.

Youre examining beautiful, he replies, his startled smile now prepared permanently across his face, perhaps shielding the pain. When I catch him along the back straight-out, he tells me he misses his friends. Commonly I run with sidekicks, he says. Without them here to tell me to stop being an dumb, I cant find the will to try running again. So he treads. But he doesnt stop.

Around the track, many of the corroborate crews are sleeping on chairs or on the flooring. Lauren Howes, whose lover, Cameron Humphries, is doing his first 24 -hour race, is struggling to understand what shes doing up there. I dont get it, she says. Its like a religion. His heroes are not Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but some ultra-runner guy.

Kilian Jornet? I crusade. Hes just about the most famous ultra-runner I can think of; he lopes up and down mountains.

Yes, thats it. Hes went four pairs of his shoes.

Some of the gang are hasten ex-servicemen who cant stay away. One tells me she was a marathon runner when a person at her fraternity informed her he had construed a hasten where people were gobbling sandwiches while they were guiding. I didnt believe it, she says, so I went to watch. I turned up in the morning and there was a group of beings wandering all over the way like zombies. Ive been hooked ever since. If Im not leading, Im crewing.

Although at times it seemed that it would never come, lastly, at just before midday, we get the bell celebrating the last five minutes of the race. For the final few laps, the runners are joined on the track by family and friends. Parents run propping mitts with “their childrens”, pairs flow, or move, arm in arm. One serviceman decides to start sprinting, his support crew struggling to keep up, while another carries his young daughter. One lady, clearly in affliction, is accompanied by her concerned partner and two teenage sons. When the hooter goes to signal the end, she abounds into snaps. Others collapse on the dirt where they are, or hug the nearest party. I find myself close to tears.

One runner, the shaven-headed husband with the clenched fists he didnt unclench them the entire race is ambling back alone across the infield. I ask if hes OK. He looks at me blankly for a moment, as though Ive simply emerged out of the field. I simply need to lie down, he says in the meekest spokesperson Ive ever heard.

And so it intentions. I suspect theyll all go back to their jobs and parties will ask them if theyre mad. Why? parties will request. Why would you do such a thing? And theyll likely be unable to answer. But theyll be getting back next year to do it all over again.

The post The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’

Ultra-running is one of the worlds fastest growing sports, generally taking place in remote, scenic landscapes. Not an athletics way in London. Will opponents contact nirvana?

I hallucinated, of course. I ever do, Pat Seabrook says. She is 76 and has expended the past 24 hours flowing round a 400 m athletics track in Tooting, south London. She sits in the front seat of her car, peeling plasters off her toes. At some degree I began to think the white routes on the trail were lassoes, rising up around me, and I was pushing them away. She chortles: Frequently I run with my friend and we take turns to hallucinate.

Along with 44 other athletes, Seabrook has just vied in the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence 24 -hour Track Race. Ultra-running, in which opponents take part in hastens longer than a marathon and often 100 miles or more, is one of the fastest growing sports in the world, with brand-new races propelling all the time; the most difficult ones have been forced to introduce lottery to systematically cope with the numbers who want to enter. But part of the appeal of these races is that they usually take place amid some of the worlds most remote and scenic landscapes, such as the Sahara or the Rockies. Not around a line in Tooting.

Paul Corderoy: You can get into that infinite; a few laps go by and you dont realise it. Photograph: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

The winner, James Stewart, moves a mind-boggling 160 miles over the course of the day. Its hard to comprehend, watching him plug away, lap after lap: 160 miles, without going anywhere. He could have moved all the way to Cardiff, but hes still here, on the trail in Tooting.

Seabrook is the oldest opponent here and considers 83 miles during the course of its race. Its not that great, she says, gathering off another plaster. Last year I operated 87. As well as innumerable 24 -hour races, she has also move 456 marathons. She didnt even start loping until her late 40 s, when all her children had grown up and left home. I required something to prevent me busy, Seabrook says. What else am I going to do on a Saturday?

Yet in spite of her low-key attitude, something else is going on here. The race was started virtually 30 years ago by adherents of the late Indian spiritual coach Sri Chinmoy, who believed that ranging was integral to a spiritual life.

In 1977, Chinmoy started a marathon team, which started putting on races in New York and is now one of the most important organisers of perseverance happens around the world. While most of the voluntaries and organisers in Tooting are adherents of his teaches, only one of the smugglers, Mahasatya Janczak from Poland, is part of the Sri Chinmoy unit. He has done the race twice before. Does he find self-transcendence through it? At minutes, certainly, he responds, a shimmer in his eyes. Its truly something. You can only understand it if you try it.

Pat Seabrook, aged 76, is the oldest challenger. I necessary something to deter me busy. Image: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

Diana Celeiro has come the whole way from Argentina for the hasten. Its her second experience here. Her husband, Gustavo, acts as her reinforce gang. Most of the smugglers have someone who accepts diligently by the track watching, offering encouragement, devising snacks or helping with any issues that arise, from sores to emotional failures. Some of the approval crews have brought tents; one family even has a motorhome parked up on the edge of the track. A few of the smugglers have no gang and have just set up a table on the grass or, in one athletes speciman, an ironing board laden with their supplies.

Some allies disappear dwelling or to a hotel on the night for some sleep. Gustavo, though, puts vigilant throughout, always smiling. This is different from flowing 100 miles in the mountains, he says. When “youre running” 100 miles all around a way, it is a battle with your mind.

I expect how his wife is, after completing a race like this. Very quiet, he says. Almost dead.

In Japan, monks on Mount Hiei run 1,000 marathons in 1,000 daylights in a effort to reach enlightenment. One of the monks once told him that the idea behind the constant shift is to spend the memory, the body, everything, until nothing is left and you are almost dead. When you are nothing, then something pop! comes up to crowded the cavity, he said, miming a bubble popping. That something, he told me, is the immense consciousness that lies below the surface of our lives a feeling of oneness with the universe.

Diana Celeiro has travelled from Argentina for the race. Photograph: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

None of the athletes here in Beeping vocalises it quite so lucidly, but there are peeks of something deeper than PBs and course accounts. Sometimes, you can get into that opening; a few laps go by and you dont realise it, Paul Corderoy says.

Theres a nowness to it, thats for sure, says Jamie Holmes, a management consultant who lives less than a mile from the racetrack. He has recently completed the famous Spartathalon ultra-marathon in Greece, which is 153 miles. When I ask why he remains doing such long races, he says he cant certainly made a statement in explanation, but thinks hes trying to break himself. I suppose Im trying to find my restriction, he says. Perhaps when I find it, Ill stop.

Shankara Smith, the race director, says that the biggest challenge is yourself. Sri Chinmoy used to say its not mind over thing, but middle over attention. If you cant stillnes that brain, then you cant do it, because your brain will tell you you cant. Here, you cant tell yourself its you versus that mountain, because there is no mountain. Its merely you versus you.

Smith has watched the hasten each year since it started in 1989, when her father was the hasten director. I desire it, she says. If youre here at 3am, the city is quiet , nothing is going on, but on the line, the atmosphere is zinging. But too peaceful.

I spend a few hours watching the smugglers lap the racetrack. Everyone seems in good spirits; its a chilly, overcast afternoon, which is fine for the runners, and while a few have gone off rapidly at the front, most are running well within themselves, chitchatting to one another and joking with the officials. I decide to get some food and rest.

Driving back to the line at 3am, I find it hard to imagine they are all still moving but, for sure, out on the floodlit line 15 hours after they started, the smugglers are still going around and around. About 10( principally those who started at the figurehead in the first few hours) have discontinued out.

Many challengers are strolling, often with difficulty, by the time darkness descends. Photo: Adharanand Finn for the Guardian

Some of those left look as if theyre in pain, their trot modes twisted and contorted. Many are amble, but even that gazes difficult. One boy with a shaven chief is walking gradually with his fists clenched; he examines as if he wants to punch person. They have nine hours left to go.

Some parties stand out, mollifies and compiled. One of them is 68-year-old Ann Bath. Shes not very fast, shes a little inclination over, but she used merciles. While others rarely stop for a rub, or to eat something, she presses serenely on, never stopping. In the end, she extends an incredible 116 miles, an age-group macrocosm record.

Holmes, the management consultant, smiles when he sees me again. He is now ambling cautiously and his knee is heavily buckled. I envisage Ive felt my restriction, he says. At the end of every lap, the runners elapse a tent full of the persons with big clipboards and rolls of numbers. The lap bars have to wave to their smuggler each time to show theyve registered the lap, and the runners typically curve back to double check their lap has been counted. As the hours change, an intimacy builds up. They get to know one another well, there are still lots of chuckling and joking. The athletes say it devotes them a lift.

Ann Bath lopes 116 miles, an age-group macrocosm record. Image: Marietta dErlanger for the Guardian

Some hastens, you have a chipping counter tied to your shoe, one runner tells me, but what I like about this race is that you have people doing it.

Another runner and his bar “ve tried to” call a new animal each lap. After a while, the runner, his psyche frazzled, stops and reclines on the table line. I cant think up any more, he says. Im done. No, await, flamingo! And, with that, hes off again.

Youre looking great, one of the lap counters wail to Holmes.

Youre examining beautiful, he replies, his startled smile now prepared permanently across his face, perhaps shielding the pain. When I catch him along the back straight-out, he tells me he misses his friends. Commonly I run with sidekicks, he says. Without them here to tell me to stop being an dumb, I cant find the will to try running again. So he treads. But he doesnt stop.

Around the track, many of the corroborate crews are sleeping on chairs or on the flooring. Lauren Howes, whose lover, Cameron Humphries, is doing his first 24 -hour race, is struggling to understand what shes doing up there. I dont get it, she says. Its like a religion. His heroes are not Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but some ultra-runner guy.

Kilian Jornet? I crusade. Hes just about the most famous ultra-runner I can think of; he lopes up and down mountains.

Yes, thats it. Hes went four pairs of his shoes.

Some of the gang are hasten ex-servicemen who cant stay away. One tells me she was a marathon runner when a person at her fraternity informed her he had construed a hasten where people were gobbling sandwiches while they were guiding. I didnt believe it, she says, so I went to watch. I turned up in the morning and there was a group of beings wandering all over the way like zombies. Ive been hooked ever since. If Im not leading, Im crewing.

Although at times it seemed that it would never come, lastly, at just before midday, we get the bell celebrating the last five minutes of the race. For the final few laps, the runners are joined on the track by family and friends. Parents run propping mitts with “their childrens”, pairs flow, or move, arm in arm. One serviceman decides to start sprinting, his support crew struggling to keep up, while another carries his young daughter. One lady, clearly in affliction, is accompanied by her concerned partner and two teenage sons. When the hooter goes to signal the end, she abounds into snaps. Others collapse on the dirt where they are, or hug the nearest party. I find myself close to tears.

One runner, the shaven-headed husband with the clenched fists he didnt unclench them the entire race is ambling back alone across the infield. I ask if hes OK. He looks at me blankly for a moment, as though Ive simply emerged out of the field. I simply need to lie down, he says in the meekest spokesperson Ive ever heard.

And so it intentions. I suspect theyll all go back to their jobs and parties will ask them if theyre mad. Why? parties will request. Why would you do such a thing? And theyll likely be unable to answer. But theyll be getting back next year to do it all over again.

The post The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2mGtPYO via IFTTT

[apsbicepstraining]

The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’

Ultra-running is one of the worlds fastest growing sports, often taking place in remote, scenic sceneries. Not an sportings way in London. Will opponents reach nirvana?

I hallucinated, of course. I always do, Pat Seabrook says. She is 76 and has expended the past 24 hours moving round a 400 m sportings track in Tooting, south London. She sits in the front seat of her car, peeling plasters off her toes. At some part I began to think the white directions on the way were lassoes, rising up around me, and I was pushing them away. She titters: Often I run with my friend and we take turns to hallucinate.

Along with 44 other smugglers, Seabrook has just vied in the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence 24 -hour Track Race. Ultra-running, in which contestants take part in races longer than a marathon and often 100 miles or more, is one of the fastest growing boasts in the world, with brand-new races propelling all the time; the most difficult ones have been forced to introduce lottery systems to cope with the numbers who want to enter. But part of the appeal of these races is that they usually take place amid some of the worlds most remote and scenic sceneries, such as the Sahara or the Rockies. Not around a line in Tooting.

Paul Corderoy: You can get into that room; a few laps go by and you dont realise it. Photo: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

The winner, James Stewart, runs a mind-boggling 160 miles over the course of the day. Its hard to appreciation, watching him peg away, lap after lap: 160 miles, without going anywhere. He could have guided all the way to Cardiff, but hes still there, on the trail in Tooting.

Seabrook is the oldest contestant here and deals 83 miles during the course of its hasten. Its not that great, she says, gathering off another plaster. Last time I led 87. As well as countless 24 -hour races, she has also run 456 marathons. She didnt even start operating until her late 40 s, when all her children had grown up and leave here. I necessitated something to maintain me busy, Seabrook says. What else am I going to do on a Saturday?

Yet in spite of her low-key position, something else going on here here. The race was started nearly 30 years ago by followers of the late Indian spiritual schoolteacher Sri Chinmoy, who was held that ranging was integral to a spiritual life.

In 1977, Chinmoy started a marathon unit, which started putting on races in New York and is now one of the most important organisers of perseverance events around the world. While most of the volunteers and organisers in Tooting are partisans of his teachings, only one of the smugglers, Mahasatya Janczak from Poland, is part of the Sri Chinmoy crew. He has done the race twice before. Does he find self-transcendence through it? At instants, obviously, he replies, a flash in his eye. Its genuinely something. You is simply understand it if “were trying” it.

Pat Seabrook, aged 76, is the oldest opponent. I requirement something to preserve me busy. Picture: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

Diana Celeiro has come the whole way from Argentina for the hasten. Its her second era here. Her husband, Gustavo, acts as her supporting gang. Most of the runners have someone who holds diligently by the racetrack watching, offering encouragement, developing snacks or facilitating with any issues that arise, from cysts to psychological explosions. Some of the help crews have brought tents; one family even has a motorhome parked up on the edge of the trail. A few of the runners have no crew and have just set up a table on the grass or, in one athletes occurrence, an ironing board laden with their supplies.

Some followers vanish home or to a inn on the night for some sleep. Gustavo, though, holds vigilant throughout, ever smiling. This is different from operating 100 miles in the mountains, he says. When “youre running” 100 miles all around a trail, it is a battle with your mind.

I expect how his wife is, after completing a race like this. Very quiet, he says. Almost dead.

In Japan, friars on Mount Hiei run 1,000 marathons in 1,000 dates in a effort to reach enlightenment. One of the friars formerly told me that the relevant recommendations behind the constant crusade is to deplete the psyche, their own bodies, everything, until nothing is left and you are almost dead. When you are nothing, then something popping! comes up to fill the cavity, he said, miming a bubble popping. That something, he told me, is the immense consciousness that lies below the surface of our lives a sense of oneness with the universe.

Diana Celeiro has circulated from Argentina for the hasten. Image: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

None of the athletes here in Beeping vocalises it quite so lucidly, “but theres” glimpses of something deeper than PBs and route accounts. Sometimes, you can get into that opening; a few laps go by and you dont realise it, Paul Corderoy says.

Theres a nowness to it, thats for sure, says Jamie Holmes, a management consultant who lives less than a mile from the track. He has recently completed the famed Spartathalon ultra-marathon in Greece, which is 153 miles. When I ask why he hinders doing such long races, he says he cant actually explain it, but believed to be trying to break himself. I guess Im trying to find my restraint, he says. Maybe when I find it, Ill stop.

Shankara Smith, the race chairman, is indicated that the biggest challenge is yourself. Sri Chinmoy used to say its not mind over content, but nature over judgment. If you cant silence that judgment, then you cant do it, because your recollection will tell you you cant. Here, you cant tell yourself its you versus that mountain, because there is no mountain. Its only you versus you.

Smith has watched the race every year because it started in 1989, when her father was the race head. I desire it, she says. If youre here at 3am, the city is quiet , nothing is going on, but on the racetrack, the atmosphere is zinging. But likewise peaceful.

I invest a few hours watching the smugglers lap the racetrack. Everyone seems in good spirits; its a chilly, overcast afternoon, which is fine for the athletes, and while a few have gone off fast at the front, most are running well within themselves, chatting to each other and joking with the officials. I decide to get some meat and rest.

Driving back to the trail at 3am, I find it hard to imagine they are all still running but, sure as shooting, out on the floodlit line 15 hours after they started, the runners are still going around and around. About 10( mainly those who started at the front in the first few hours) have descended out.

Many challengers are treading, often with difficulty, by the time darkness descends. Photo: Adharanand Finn for the Guardian

Some of those left look as if theyre in pain, their operate forms twisted and wrung. Numerous are amble, but even that ogles difficult. One humanity with a shaven president is strolling gradually with his fists clenched; he seems as if he wants to punch someone. They have nine hours left to go.

Some people stand out, allays and compiled. One of them is 68-year-old Ann Bath. Shes not very fast, shes a little inclination over, but she is incessant. While others rarely stop for a massage, or to eat something, she presses serenely on, never stopping. In the end, she guides an incredible 116 miles, an age-group macrocosm record.

Holmes, the management consultant, smiles where reference is sees me again. He is now treading gingerly and his knee is heavily strapped. I feel Ive felt my restraint, he says. At the end of every lap, the runners legislate a tent full of people with big clipboards and lists of numbers. The lap bars have to wave to their smuggler each time to show theyve registered the lap, and the athletes often curve back to double check their lap has been weighed. As the hours progress, an intimacy builds up. They get to know each other well, there are still lots of tittering and joking. The smugglers say it affords them a lift.

Ann Bath operates 116 miles, an age-group world-wide record. Picture: Marietta dErlanger for the Guardian

Some hastens, you have a chip counter tied to your shoe, one runner tells me, but what I like about this hasten is that you have parties doing it.

Another runner and his bar are trying to refer a new animal each lap. After a while, the athlete, his brain frazzled, stops and tilts on the table rim. I cant think about any more, he says. Im done. No, wait, flamingo! And, with that, hes off again.

Youre gazing enormous, one of the lap bars shouts to Holmes.

Youre appearing beautiful, he responds, his startled smile now determined permanently across his face, perhaps shielding the sting. When I catch him along the back straight-shooting, he tells me he misses his acquaintances. Commonly I run with friends, he says. Without them here to tell me to stop being an imbecile, I cant find the will to try running again. So he walks. But he doesnt stop.

Around the trail, many of the aid crews are sleeping on chairs or on the flooring. Lauren Howes, whose lover, Cameron Humphries, is doing his firstly 24 -hour race, is struggling to understand what shes doing up there. I dont get wise, she says. Its like a faith. His heroes are not Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but some ultra-runner guy.

Kilian Jornet? I enterprise. Hes just about the most famous ultra-runner I can think of; he guides up and down mountains.

Yes, thats it. Hes got four duets of his shoes.

Some of the gang are hasten ex-servicemen who cant stay away. One tells me she was a marathon runner when someone at her sorority told her he had construed a race where people were gobbling sandwiches while they were extending. I didnt think it is, she says, so I went to watch. I turned up in the morning and there was a group of parties wandering around the line like zombies. Ive been hooked ever since. If Im not moving, Im crewing.

Although at times it seemed that it would never come, eventually, at just before midday, we get the bell labelling the last five minutes of the race. For the final few laps, the athletes are connected on the track by family and sidekicks. Parents lead impounding handwritings with “their childrens”, duos operate, or walking, arm in arm. One boy decides to start sprinting, his support crew struggling to keep up, while another carries his young daughter. One maiden, clearly in agony, is accompanied by her concerned husband and two teenage sons. When the hooter goes to signal the end, she abounds into weepings. Others collapse on the soil where they are, or hug the very near party. I find myself close to tears.

One runner, the shaven-headed gentleman with the clenched fists he didnt unclench them the entire race is ambling back alone across the infield. I ask if hes OK. He looks at me blankly for a moment, as though Ive exactly appeared out of the field. I exactly need to lie down, he says in the meekest spokesperson Ive ever heard.

And so it aims. I predict theyll all go back to their jobs and beings will ask them if theyre mad. Why? people will ask. Why would you do such a thing? And theyll maybe be unable to answer. But theyll be getting back next year to do it all over again.

The post The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’

Ultra-running is one of the worlds fastest growing sports, often taking place in remote, scenic sceneries. Not an sportings way in London. Will opponents reach nirvana?

I hallucinated, of course. I always do, Pat Seabrook says. She is 76 and has expended the past 24 hours moving round a 400 m sportings track in Tooting, south London. She sits in the front seat of her car, peeling plasters off her toes. At some part I began to think the white directions on the way were lassoes, rising up around me, and I was pushing them away. She titters: Often I run with my friend and we take turns to hallucinate.

Along with 44 other smugglers, Seabrook has just vied in the Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence 24 -hour Track Race. Ultra-running, in which contestants take part in races longer than a marathon and often 100 miles or more, is one of the fastest growing boasts in the world, with brand-new races propelling all the time; the most difficult ones have been forced to introduce lottery systems to cope with the numbers who want to enter. But part of the appeal of these races is that they usually take place amid some of the worlds most remote and scenic sceneries, such as the Sahara or the Rockies. Not around a line in Tooting.

Paul Corderoy: You can get into that room; a few laps go by and you dont realise it. Photo: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

The winner, James Stewart, runs a mind-boggling 160 miles over the course of the day. Its hard to appreciation, watching him peg away, lap after lap: 160 miles, without going anywhere. He could have guided all the way to Cardiff, but hes still there, on the trail in Tooting.

Seabrook is the oldest contestant here and deals 83 miles during the course of its hasten. Its not that great, she says, gathering off another plaster. Last time I led 87. As well as countless 24 -hour races, she has also run 456 marathons. She didnt even start operating until her late 40 s, when all her children had grown up and leave here. I necessitated something to maintain me busy, Seabrook says. What else am I going to do on a Saturday?

Yet in spite of her low-key position, something else going on here here. The race was started nearly 30 years ago by followers of the late Indian spiritual schoolteacher Sri Chinmoy, who was held that ranging was integral to a spiritual life.

In 1977, Chinmoy started a marathon unit, which started putting on races in New York and is now one of the most important organisers of perseverance events around the world. While most of the volunteers and organisers in Tooting are partisans of his teachings, only one of the smugglers, Mahasatya Janczak from Poland, is part of the Sri Chinmoy crew. He has done the race twice before. Does he find self-transcendence through it? At instants, obviously, he replies, a flash in his eye. Its genuinely something. You is simply understand it if “were trying” it.

Pat Seabrook, aged 76, is the oldest opponent. I requirement something to preserve me busy. Picture: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

Diana Celeiro has come the whole way from Argentina for the hasten. Its her second era here. Her husband, Gustavo, acts as her supporting gang. Most of the runners have someone who holds diligently by the racetrack watching, offering encouragement, developing snacks or facilitating with any issues that arise, from cysts to psychological explosions. Some of the help crews have brought tents; one family even has a motorhome parked up on the edge of the trail. A few of the runners have no crew and have just set up a table on the grass or, in one athletes occurrence, an ironing board laden with their supplies.

Some followers vanish home or to a inn on the night for some sleep. Gustavo, though, holds vigilant throughout, ever smiling. This is different from operating 100 miles in the mountains, he says. When “youre running” 100 miles all around a trail, it is a battle with your mind.

I expect how his wife is, after completing a race like this. Very quiet, he says. Almost dead.

In Japan, friars on Mount Hiei run 1,000 marathons in 1,000 dates in a effort to reach enlightenment. One of the friars formerly told me that the relevant recommendations behind the constant crusade is to deplete the psyche, their own bodies, everything, until nothing is left and you are almost dead. When you are nothing, then something popping! comes up to fill the cavity, he said, miming a bubble popping. That something, he told me, is the immense consciousness that lies below the surface of our lives a sense of oneness with the universe.

Diana Celeiro has circulated from Argentina for the hasten. Image: Marietta d’Erlanger for the Guardian

None of the athletes here in Beeping vocalises it quite so lucidly, “but theres” glimpses of something deeper than PBs and route accounts. Sometimes, you can get into that opening; a few laps go by and you dont realise it, Paul Corderoy says.

Theres a nowness to it, thats for sure, says Jamie Holmes, a management consultant who lives less than a mile from the track. He has recently completed the famed Spartathalon ultra-marathon in Greece, which is 153 miles. When I ask why he hinders doing such long races, he says he cant actually explain it, but believed to be trying to break himself. I guess Im trying to find my restraint, he says. Maybe when I find it, Ill stop.

Shankara Smith, the race chairman, is indicated that the biggest challenge is yourself. Sri Chinmoy used to say its not mind over content, but nature over judgment. If you cant silence that judgment, then you cant do it, because your recollection will tell you you cant. Here, you cant tell yourself its you versus that mountain, because there is no mountain. Its only you versus you.

Smith has watched the race every year because it started in 1989, when her father was the race head. I desire it, she says. If youre here at 3am, the city is quiet , nothing is going on, but on the racetrack, the atmosphere is zinging. But likewise peaceful.

I invest a few hours watching the smugglers lap the racetrack. Everyone seems in good spirits; its a chilly, overcast afternoon, which is fine for the athletes, and while a few have gone off fast at the front, most are running well within themselves, chatting to each other and joking with the officials. I decide to get some meat and rest.

Driving back to the trail at 3am, I find it hard to imagine they are all still running but, sure as shooting, out on the floodlit line 15 hours after they started, the runners are still going around and around. About 10( mainly those who started at the front in the first few hours) have descended out.

Many challengers are treading, often with difficulty, by the time darkness descends. Photo: Adharanand Finn for the Guardian

Some of those left look as if theyre in pain, their operate forms twisted and wrung. Numerous are amble, but even that ogles difficult. One humanity with a shaven president is strolling gradually with his fists clenched; he seems as if he wants to punch someone. They have nine hours left to go.

Some people stand out, allays and compiled. One of them is 68-year-old Ann Bath. Shes not very fast, shes a little inclination over, but she is incessant. While others rarely stop for a massage, or to eat something, she presses serenely on, never stopping. In the end, she guides an incredible 116 miles, an age-group macrocosm record.

Holmes, the management consultant, smiles where reference is sees me again. He is now treading gingerly and his knee is heavily strapped. I feel Ive felt my restraint, he says. At the end of every lap, the runners legislate a tent full of people with big clipboards and lists of numbers. The lap bars have to wave to their smuggler each time to show theyve registered the lap, and the athletes often curve back to double check their lap has been weighed. As the hours progress, an intimacy builds up. They get to know each other well, there are still lots of tittering and joking. The smugglers say it affords them a lift.

Ann Bath operates 116 miles, an age-group world-wide record. Picture: Marietta dErlanger for the Guardian

Some hastens, you have a chip counter tied to your shoe, one runner tells me, but what I like about this hasten is that you have parties doing it.

Another runner and his bar are trying to refer a new animal each lap. After a while, the athlete, his brain frazzled, stops and tilts on the table rim. I cant think about any more, he says. Im done. No, wait, flamingo! And, with that, hes off again.

Youre gazing enormous, one of the lap bars shouts to Holmes.

Youre appearing beautiful, he responds, his startled smile now determined permanently across his face, perhaps shielding the sting. When I catch him along the back straight-shooting, he tells me he misses his acquaintances. Commonly I run with friends, he says. Without them here to tell me to stop being an imbecile, I cant find the will to try running again. So he walks. But he doesnt stop.

Around the trail, many of the aid crews are sleeping on chairs or on the flooring. Lauren Howes, whose lover, Cameron Humphries, is doing his firstly 24 -hour race, is struggling to understand what shes doing up there. I dont get wise, she says. Its like a faith. His heroes are not Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but some ultra-runner guy.

Kilian Jornet? I enterprise. Hes just about the most famous ultra-runner I can think of; he guides up and down mountains.

Yes, thats it. Hes got four duets of his shoes.

Some of the gang are hasten ex-servicemen who cant stay away. One tells me she was a marathon runner when someone at her sorority told her he had construed a race where people were gobbling sandwiches while they were extending. I didnt think it is, she says, so I went to watch. I turned up in the morning and there was a group of parties wandering around the line like zombies. Ive been hooked ever since. If Im not moving, Im crewing.

Although at times it seemed that it would never come, eventually, at just before midday, we get the bell labelling the last five minutes of the race. For the final few laps, the athletes are connected on the track by family and sidekicks. Parents lead impounding handwritings with “their childrens”, duos operate, or walking, arm in arm. One boy decides to start sprinting, his support crew struggling to keep up, while another carries his young daughter. One maiden, clearly in agony, is accompanied by her concerned husband and two teenage sons. When the hooter goes to signal the end, she abounds into weepings. Others collapse on the soil where they are, or hug the very near party. I find myself close to tears.

One runner, the shaven-headed gentleman with the clenched fists he didnt unclench them the entire race is ambling back alone across the infield. I ask if hes OK. He looks at me blankly for a moment, as though Ive exactly appeared out of the field. I exactly need to lie down, he says in the meekest spokesperson Ive ever heard.

And so it aims. I predict theyll all go back to their jobs and beings will ask them if theyre mad. Why? people will ask. Why would you do such a thing? And theyll maybe be unable to answer. But theyll be getting back next year to do it all over again.

The post The 24 -hour race: ‘It is a battle with your mind’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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