#i’m also covered in dirt. which I do think only adds to the appeal

[ongreenergrasses]

i always have to be the most fuckable person in the airport

[zaph1337]

Monster Hunter Rating 15: Cephadrome, the Sand Wyvern

All right, we all knew this was coming. I’ve complained about “-drome” monsters for a while now, but it was mostly ‘cause of the naming scheme, not the idea of a leader for smaller monsters. Still, I’m glad that the first one I’m talking about leads an interesting species. Let’s see what the Cephadrome has to offer.

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate)

Appearance: The Cephadrome literally looks just like a bigger Cephalos. I know that’s what it’s supposed to be, but several of the “-dromes” have subtle differences from their base forms to make them stand out more. From what I can see on the renders, though, the Cephadrome doesn’t have anything but size to set it apart from the Cephalos. Okay, the games say that they have “hardened, black scales,” but I don’t see those on any of the renders. Though something interesting the wiki page for Cephadrome points out is that it and Cephalos are both likely based on the Diplocaulus, an extinct amphibian with a spade-shaped head:

It’s not gonna affect the score any, but it’s interesting. Speaking of the score, since the Cephadrome is meant to be a big Cephalos, I won’t dock it points for that, but I will dock it points for just being a big Cephalos. 5/10.

Behavior: Since Cephadromes start out as Cephalos, they have the same behavior for a good portion of their lives. Cephadromes lay their eggs in oasis waters, but those eggs will only hatch during the dry season when those waters dry up. The baby Cephalos swim in the mud, but eventually the mud will dry up, too, and turn to sand...I’m assuming that the mud is wet sand and not dirt because otherwise I don’t think that would make sense. Anyways, the hatchlings will struggle to swim through the sand, but if they wanna survive, they gotta learn. This is why their mothers laid the eggs there in the first place; the hatchlings have to have some experience swimming if they want to learn how to swim through sand.

Once a Cephalos matures, it becomes a Cephadrome and leads a pack of Cephalos. It’s the Cephadrome’s job to protect the pack, so it’s often the one that attacks their targets first. It’s more aggressive than a Cephalos, but also very cautious; it directs its pack as far away as possible from monsters such as Diablos and Monoblos, which are known for intense aggression towards anything that moves. If it thinks its opponent is too dangerous to fight head-on, it’ll frequently dive into the sand as an evasive maneuver during the fight. This annoying strategy also allows the Cephadrome to distract nearby predators--even Diablos and Monoblos--to keep them away from its pack.

Other than that, Cephadromes have the same behavior as Cephalos: they swim in sand, jump out of it for air, and gulp some of it up to mix it with their mucus. It wouldn’t be fair to dock them points for doing a lot of what Cephalos do because that’s literally how leader animals behave irl, but I also feel like the reason I rated the Cephalos’ behavior so high was because every monster before them behaved mostly like real animals did, so something as bizarre as a sand-swimming shark dragon seemed like a breath of fresh air for a series about larger-than-life monsters. Plus, I don’t know how much the Cephadrome’s new behavior adds to the monster’s appeal. It certainly does its job as a pack leader, but I still feel like I don’t like it enough for it to justify giving the Cephadrome the same score here as I did the Cephalos...eh, I was never good at being objective, anyways. 7/10.

Abilities: Cephadromes literally have the same abilities as Cephalos do; they use their hearing to track prey and their fins have paralytic venom, but their greater size allows them to use their tails and hip-checks to damage enemies. The wiki also says that they spit a “sand stream,” which...I don’t know if that’s what Cephalos do with the sand they swallow. I assumed that since they mixed the sand with mucus, they’d spit it as globs, and I thought Cephadromes would do the same thing. I guess my issue with imagining a stream of sand and mucus is that I’d expect it to all come out at once because the mucus stuck it all together.

Okay, I’m watching videos of a Cephadrome hunt on the wiki, and Cephadromes and Cephalos do spit out sand in globs, but Cephadromes can also fire them in quick succession. Didn’t see anything I’d call a sand stream, though. My guess is that the sand stream is a move used by high-rank Cephadromes, when their health gets low, or both. Regardless, I’m giving them the same rating as I did the Cephalos. 8/10.

Equipment: For some reason, the equipment page Cephalos and Cephadromes share has mostly weapons made from Cephalos parts. At best, Cephadrome materials are used in upgrades of those weapons. All of the ones themed after the Cephadrome seem to be from Monster Hunter Online. Here’s the Cephadrom Great Sword:

Like with the Cephalos weapons, we see a mix of aquatic and desert themes here. If the was blue, I’d never be able to tell that it came from a desert monster. Honestly, the colors and spiked fins on the weapons remind me a lot of Futabi, one of the “vivosaurs” you can use in the Fossil Fighter games. Another interesting weapon is the Cephadrome Long Sword:

The neat thing about this weapon is its similarities to the shamshir, a sword that used to be used in Persia, which was a desert region:

Making the Long Sword a giant shamshir was a nice little touch. I also like how the curve calls to mind a wave-like motion befitting a Water-element weapon. As for the armor, here’s the Cephadrome Blademaster set from Monster Hunter Frontier G:

If you’re wondering where the blue scales came from, I should remind you that Cephalos and Cephadromes are blue, but covered in sand. This may not look deserty, but it does make you look like an Atlantean warrior or something like that, so it gets points from me. I like how the girl’s skirt is made from a Cephadrome fin, but I wish the male armor had a helmet that looked like you could actually see out of it. Those slits may be artistic, but they sure don’t look practical. I really like the armor overall, but I can’t ignore the fact that it kinda clashes with the weapons. But there’s also Cephadrome armor in Monster Hunter Online. It looks...different.

...y’know, I get that the helmet’s meant to look like a pharaoh’s headdress, but it looks so fleshy and goofy that it kinda ruins the whole look of the armor for me. It may not clash with the weapons like the previous armor does, but it’s just...no. The equipment on the whole, however, is very solid for the most part, so I feel that it makes up for it. 8/10.

Final Thoughts and Tally: Being so similar to the Cephalos, the Cephadrome has the same appeal to me; it’s a sand shark dragon that spits sand globs and is somehow still a Water-element monster. The worst I can say about it is that it doesn’t look different enough from its younger form, but it still looks pretty intimidating. I wish there was a way to remove the sand from its body and see the blue scales underneath, though. Still, 7/10.

[thecleverdame]

Gods of Twilight - 6

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking

Beta:  ilikaicalie

*Chapters 7-25 (26 posting tonight) are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

Two Months Later

“How often do the two of you lie together?” The midwife asks, sitting across from you in judgment. You’ve been married eight months and you’re still not pregnant. Most of the kingdom sees it as your only job and for the most part, it is. As the queen, it’s your duty to provide your husband with heirs to his throne.

Growing up you could never picture yourself as a mother, in fact, you’d never confess it but in truth, the idea of having children is not appealing at all. But your ability to give Sam children is imperative and it’s a responsibility you take seriously.

“Enough.” You shift uncomfortably.

“Apparently not,” she quips. “Have you keep keeping yourself warm during the nights? It will help your womb ripen.”

“I think so, I don’t feel cold,” you offer, looking back to your bed. “Isn’t there something we can do? Herbs I could drink?”

“I’ll concoct a tincture, perhaps it will help.” She eyes you and then shrugs. “I’ll speak to your maids. Make sure they’re stoking the fire throughout the night.”

--

After months of seclusion, you begin to plot your own personal rebellion. Most nights are yours alone. The last of the servants come to check the fire just before midnight, leaving you alone until the morning light breaks.

You typically stay up late, reading by candlelight into the early hours of the morning. It’s on one of these late nights when you’re curled up by the fire that you hear gentle snoring coming from the hall.

The night guard, Tobias, has fallen asleep.

Opening the heavy door to your room you peek out to find him propped against the wall, dead asleep on his feet. Collecting a shawl you inch out the door, tiptoeing silently down the hallway. You scamper carefully over the stone walkways, stopping to exchange your shawl for that of a servant’s and make your way to the exterior of the castle.

You walk with the stealth of a ghost, silent and light, making your way through the dark streets of the village and out of the city. You walk and walk until the fields surrounding the castle are visible under the moonlight. Staying in the castle at night feels like a waste of this perfect opportunity to slip into the dark.

Over the following weeks, you come to crave the experiences of nighttime, when the stars kiss the sky, decorating the heavens above like the most exquisite jewels. Beauty beyond human creation, all for simply raising your eyes instead of watching the timid footfalls that take you toward the aging drawbridge.

It’s here in Lebanon you discover your thirst for life after sunset, seeking ghosts of the past and whatever else prefers the world without the glare of the sun. In this shadowless black your ears are perfect, your senses heightened.

The night guard into a predictable pattern and you watch the clock tick well past midnight as you pry the door open to assure he’s asleep, which most night he is. These free nights are spent in the fields, laying your back, staring up at the heavens and dreaming of a different life, an existence where you’re free to choose your own path. If you were a man you’d go on grand adventures, exploring distant lands and uncharted territories. You get lost in these waking dreams, oftentimes for hours.

Tonight you’re running at full speed across the open field, your breath fast and heavy as you push farther and faster, skin covered in sweat. Your feet make little noise as they kiss the ground under the fat moon hanging full in the sky.

You slow as you reach the forest's edge, careful to make your way to the dirt path you know all too well. You’ve spent many a night alone in these woods, wandering and exploring like the little girl you used to be. There’s freedom out here in the dark. There’s no one to watch you spin under the stars, and hum quietly to yourself as you walk along.

Normally you’d have turned around by now but you’re full of pent of energy and eager to push the boundaries and explore further than you ever have before. You’re not sure of exactly where you are, but also unconcerned. It’s as you take a fork to the left, deeper into the forest that you sense you are no longer alone.

Stopping for a moment you listen to the sounds of the night, but all the peeping insects and squeaking bats have gone silent. In truth, it’s the silence that sends a chill up your spine. It’s dark out, but the moon is full and you’re eyes have adjusted enough to inspect your surroundings.

Listening carefully, you take a few more steps, spying something moving out of the corner of your eye. Drawing in a pregnant breath you freeze and slowly turn, only to find a sight that nearly stops your heart.

Fifty paces into the woods there’s a massive white wolf standing in the brush. You swear its eyes are glowing yellow, fixed on you where you stand.

Every story you’ve ever heard of the strange wolves of Lebanon floods back to you. You and the beast watch each other in the silent forest.

Slowly you take a step and the wolf moves in tandem, shoulders rolling as it matches your stride. You take, one, two, three more steps down the path and the wolf moves alongside, flanking you.

You should be afraid, you're not sure what’s wrong with you but find yourself sure that the creature has no intention to harm you. When you stop walking the wolf stops on cue.

“Hello,” you call out softly. “You won’t hurt me, will you?” The beast cocks it’s head at you as if drawn to your voice. “Can’t you sleep either? Why don’t we walk together for a while.”

The white wolf takes a dozen steps toward you, sniffing the air.

You continue walking, watching this giant dog follow at your pace.

“You are quite beautiful,” you offer, feeling rather silly at the prospect of speaking to an animal, but that doesn’t stop you. Your father always spoke sweetly to his horses and in return they were loyal steeds. This can’t be much different. Perhaps some of the wild tales are rooted in truth. “Can I tell you a secret,” you angle your path closer to the side of the road and the wolf gets closer as well. “It would be nice to have a friend. Most of the time I am rather lonely and it looks as if you are alone too. Perhaps we could be friends. I often walk at night, you could join me if you like.”

You wander on for the better part of an hour babbling on about your life. The beast stays with you, gradually getting closer and closer until it takes a final step onto the path next to you, walking barely an arm's length away.

Perhaps this kingdom holds magic. You’ve always believed in a subtle world beyond what you can see, the veil that holds the dead and the enlightened. This isn’t so far removed, it seems in this place the wolves are indeed part of something truly mystical.

“Do you not have a pack?” you ask, wandering along. “I am married but my husband does not like me very much. He prefers the company of his brother and other women I suspect. I came here to marry him so I don’t know anyone, you see. I am strictly decorative. A pretty thing to be seen and not heard. Sometimes I fear I will never be heard again.”

With realizing how close the beast has gotten, the wolf brushes your hand, his soft fur cold in the night air.

Crack.  

The sound of a branch breaking makes you jump and the wolf instantly leaps into the woods. You turn around on the path, alone and suddenly frightened as you watch the silhouette of man appear.

“What do we have here?” His voice floats out into the night as he approaches.

“Who are you, good sir?” you ask, forcing an even voice despite quaking nerves.

“Who are you young one, to be alone in the woods in the middle of the night.”

“You should not come any closer!” You warn, inching backward.

He whistles and after a moment another man appears. Two large men who are getting closer by the second.

“A woman just wandering around in the night in Lebanon?” the new man snorts. “Maybe it’s a gift for us, a whore ready to do her duty.”

“I beg your pardon, sir.” You square off your shoulders. “I am aware that don’t know me, so I will let your comment pass, but you are speaking to a queen.”

“A queen?” The first man chortles. “Oh my. I’m honored.” He mines a bow.

“So am I.” The second man adds.

They separate, each getting into position to grab you and you prepare to run, heart thumping faster and faster.

It’s as the first man lunges for you that the white wolf springs from the forest, pouncing on one of the men and taking him to the ground. The night becomes a mix of snarls and screams as you take off like an arrow, bare feet pounding the dirt.

You run faster than you have in your entire life, sprinting back the way you came. You run and run until you can’t breathe and are to forced to stop and recover, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

You’re lost. For a moment you fall to your knees, sitting in the dirt and crying to yourself. But it doesn’t take long to pull yourself back together, looking at the stars to find your way home. Your father taught you many things and celestial navigation was one of them.

It takes you hours to make your way home, the sun will be rising soon and you’re lucky to have snuck back through the village. It’s as you pass the stables that you come upon chaos, knights shouting for reinforcements.

You forgot all stealth and approach the first man you see.

“What is happening?” You ask grabbing the arm of a giant man clad in battle armor.

“The King was attacked and The Queen is missing. We’re forming a search party.”

Your mind swirls. What a wretched night, first you were assaulted in the woods and now Sam has been attacked as well.

“Is he alive?” you ask, confusion suddenly bleeding into a panic. The knight pulls away, annoyance brimming. “Answer me! Is Sam alive?”

In truth, it’s referring to The King as Sam that draws the attention of every person in the castle’s keep. They all fall silent turning to find their queen, covered in dirt with a torn dress.

“Forgive me.” The knight falls to his knee. “I did not mean to speak to you in such a way m’lady.”

Propriety is the least of your concern as you step forward. “I couldn’t care less about how you’re speaking to me. What happened to The King? Take me to him now.”

“My Lady.” Philip is beside you, gently taking your elbow. “Come with me.”

-

*Chapters 7-25 (26 posting tonight) are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

[grimelords]

October Playlist

My October playlist is finished and it’s complete from Rico Nasty to Rachmaninoff. I absolutely guarantee there’s something you’ll love in this 3 and a half hours of music, and probably something you’ll hate too! Something for everyone!

If you’d like to have these playlists delivered to your inbox instead of having them randomly appear on your dash, please subscribe to my tinyletter here.

listen here

Santeria - Pusha T: In anticipation of Jesus Is King I relistened to the entire Wyoming Sessions project a few times, and a year removed from all the hype and controversy here's the thing: it's fucking great. The individual albums ranged pretty widely in quality and felt slightly unfinished for how short they were sometimes, but taking the project as a whole 5-album 120 minute playlist it turns out it's a masterpiece. My personal tracklist goes Ye/Daytona/Nasir/KTSE/Kids See Ghosts, which isn't release order but I think makes it flow the best - both Kanye albums bookending it and the less impactful Nas and Teyana Taylor albums buried a bit further in where you can appreciate them now that you're deep in the mindset of the whole thing rather than alone on their own.

Puppets (Succession Remix) - Pusha T & Nicholas Brittel: This remix is such a perfect match: Pusha T’s corporate villainy finally given a context and prestige it deserves. It’s also short enough that it could feasible be the actual theme song next season, which would be a marked improvement imo.

Use This Gospel - Kanye West, Clipse & Kenny G: I am and remain a Kanye stan, even after everything. It’s nice to see him going back to the extremely uneven mastering of MBDTF era, it’s a sound that is uniquely his and it’s fun to see him revisit it. The thick vocoder harmony is so soupy you get lost in it, and the way it opens up to include the full choir in the No Malice verse is beautiful. Kanye reunited Clipse through Christ and we have Him to thank for that at least. The Kenny G break is great, and the grain and dirt on the whole track when the beat kicks in is so gritty you can feel it.

Man Of The Year - Schoolboy Q: I didn't love the Chromatics album they surprise released but it did thankfully remind me of the time Schoolboy Q sampled Cherry for Man Of The Year. Taken exclusively on lyrics, Man Of The Year is a triumph: he's the man of the year and it's all worked out but the sample and the beat underscores the dead eyed melancholy that runs through the whole of Oxymoron of never winning even when you've won.

Cold - Rico Nasty: This song fucking tears your face off. Imagine STARTING your album at this level of intensity. She just goes straight to 100 and burns the house down. Outside of Lil John so few rappers can get away with just straight up screaming in the adlibs but the way she just lung tearingly screams GOOOO through this is fucking sick.

Fake ID - Riton & Kah-Lo: TikTok songs are becoming their own genre, but it’s a very nebulous sort of a mood encompassing everything from aughts pop punk hooks to skipping rope raps like this. It’s a strange new way for songs to blow up that everyone seems compelled to write articles about but my take on it is it’s exactly the same as ads were in the old days. Remember how many songs did absolute numbers because someone put it in a Motorola ad? Same thing except you’re not being sold a phone this time, so in some ways it’s better. Anyway, this song bangs. The spirit of 212 era Azealia Banks lives on even if she’s doing her best ever since then to kill it.

Doctor Pressure - MYLO & Miami Sound Machine: There was a very good era in the mid-2000s where you could just put mashups out as singles and they’d chart, it was sick. My only two examples are this and Destination Calabria but I’m sure there’s more. Drop The Pressure is a masterpiece but as an alternate version this mashup is equally masterful.  

If You’re Tarzan, I’m Jane - Martika: Martika is unfortunately best known for the 1989 one hit wonder Toy Soldiers, a sort of boring overdramatic ballad which is best known for being sampled by Eminem in 2004 in his quite bad super duper serious song Like Toy Soldiers. I say unfortunately because every other song on her first album is great, it’s all hypercolour 80s synthpop and I love this song especially because it is so completely stuffed with activity it becomes dizzying. It gets so lost in itself that they completely abandon the dramatic pause before “I’m Jane” for some reason toward the end and instead just layer three different tracks of vocal adlibs. Every part of this song is great, the weird ‘o we o we o’ chant before the second verse? The neighing horse guitar before the bridge? The musical tour of the world IN the bridge? The part where she says ‘I want to swing on your vine?’. This song has everything.

You Got Me Into This - Martika: Every part of the instrumentation in this is amazing. The bass sound, the main synth, the extremely athletic brass, the wonderful echoing 80s snare that’s as big as a house. I just love it. She also does some really intriguing slurs on the word ‘love’ all the way through, just moving it around absolutely anywhere.

Space Time Motion - Jennifer Vanilla: I love when someone has such a clearly defined aesthetic and mission from the very beginning. Jennifer Vanilla is the alter ego of Becca Kaufmann from Ava Luna who I've had in this playlist before but never competely investigated. Jennifer Vanilla feels like an episode of Sex And The City where Samantha gets really into Laurie Anderson and she is incredible. This video is the best mission statement I’ve ever seen and is currently criminally underviewed so please do your part and support the Jennifer cause by watching these two videos.

So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings - Caroline Polachek: Caroline Polachek said watch me write a Haim song and did it. Apparently the very early versions of this album started when she was in writing sessions for Katy Perry, but then it started to turn into something else and she took it for herself, and I think you can hear that. With more normal production and a little faster this is a hundred percent a Katy Perry song, but instead it’s completely uniquely Caroline Polachek and it’s all the better for it. And also Katy Perry must be furious because her new songs are simply not good at all.

Electric Blue - Arcade Fire: I just love the obsession of this song in the outro, chanting over and over and over “Cover my eyes electric blue, every single night I dream about you”

Promiscuous - Nelly Furtado and Timbaland: I got a youtube ad for one of those Masterclass videos the other day and it was Timbaland teaching production. This ad went for five minutes for some reason and I watched the whole thing and it made me admire Timbaland even more. He’s demonstrating his compositional technique which is basically to just beatbox, and then loop it, and then add some extra percussion layers with more beatboxing and hand percussion, then loop that and add a little melody by singing or humming. ‘It’s that simple’ he says. Then later he goes back in and puts in actual drums or synths or whatever. I was stunned because suddenly a lot of his music makes sense. Without the barrier of instrument or timbre to get hung up on it allows him to write from this instantly head-nodding place of just making up a little beat you can sing and dance to immediately. Listening to a lot of his music now you can hear the bones underneath everything so clearly, all his beats are supremely beatboxable and all his melodies are very hummable, they’ve never overcomplicated by instrumental skill or habits, they just exist to serve the song.

Serpent - TNGHT:  TNGHT are back baby and this song is like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It feels like afrofuturist footwork from another dimension, the mbira sounding lead against the oil drum percussion in this cacophony of yelps and screams that just builds to an irrepressible energy without a bassline in sight.

Ghosts Of My Life - Rufige Kru: I'm reading Mark Fisher's Ghosts Of My Life right now and some good person has put together a spotify playlist of all the songs he mentions. He has a whole essay about why this song is sick so I’m not going to go into it here but it’s interesting to hear about someone growing up with jungle when it’s a genre that has always felt very niche to me. I guess partly as a result of it never really making it mainstream as a genre here, and also me being a little too young for it.

Renegade Snares - Omni Trio: My biggest introduction to drum and bass comes from the game Midnight Club 3: Dub Edition and this really great song from the soundtrack that is finally on spotify after a very long absence. At almost the exact same time as I discovered this song with its spacious piano and repitched snares, I discovered Venetian Snares and breakcore in general. Having no particular frame of reference for breakcore as an offshoot of drum and bass only amplified its appeal to me as a completely alien genre that sounded like nothing else I’d ever heard, and so my personal history with drum and bass is a story of walking backwards into it after the fact which is interesting if not helpful.

Punching In A Dream - The Naked And Famous: The Mark Fisher book also mentions the Tricky song which I’ve never heard from which The Naked And Famous got their name and I thought ‘man remember The Naked And Famous, they were sick?’. The sort of harder edged Passion Pit instrumentation mixed with pop punk, a winning combination.

Vegas - Polica: My favourite part of this song is the unexpected blastbeats after the chorus, using their two drummers to their full advantage and just shaking the song by its foundations every now and then lest you get too comfortable.

Right Words - Cults: I’m beginning to suspect I may be the last surviving Cults stan but if this be my lot I’ll gladly do it

Running From The Sun - Chromatics: The new Chromatics album got me to relisten to their definitive document Kill For Love, and something new I appreciated this time about an album I love a lot is its length. Kill For Love is almost 80 minutes long and it luxuriates in that length. It’s sequenced perfectly so it never feels like it’s long for no reason, but large chunks just completely space out and go out of focus in the soft neon light and the second half of this song is a good example. The whole thing just evaporates into smoke and it feels perfect. If this were a shorter and more concise song that had a proper ending it wouldn’t feel right, this whole album has no straight edges at all and it’s all the better for it.

Chance - Angel Olsen: I cannot belive this song. This feels like she wrote her own version of My Way looking forward instead of back. Instead of the ruefully triumphant "I've lived a life that's full / I've traveled each and every highway" it's “I don't want it all / I've had enough / I don't want it all / I've had a love." before the turn from the future to the present at the end, where she gives up on a forever love in exchange for right now. I love how raw this vocal take feels. It's not her best voice but it feels very very honest as a result. She's just singing her heart out in this huge showstopping closer. In an interview she said "I didn’t love the recording of it very much, and now I just feel in love with it as a closing statement, because it’s a way of saying, ‘Look, I have hope for the next thing in my life.’ I’m not going to anticipate negativity or hate or an end. But instead of us looking towards forever, why don’t we just work on right now?"

Something To Believe - Weyes Blood: This album just keeps paying dividends. I’m systematically going through long obsessive periods with every single song on it and now it’s Something To Believe’s turn.

Don’t Shut Me Up (Politely) - Brigid Mae Power: Without meaning to, Brigid Mae Power seems to have created some incredible fusion of folk music and stoner metal. The way this song absolutely sits unmoving on one deep and resonant chord for so long is amazing. When it does change chords it feels like a full body effort to get up and shift. She has a similar feeling to Emma Ruth Rundle, who more explicitly wears her metal influences, but Brigid Mae Powers' strength is in how much it resembles the traditional folk side of the spectrum. Her voice is also amazing, with the huge effortless runs she goes on about halfway through just coming unmoored from the song completely and floating off into space.

Sweetheart I Ain’t Your Christ - Josh T. Pearson: I had a real problem with Josh T. Pearson for a long time because of how he presents as so authentic on this album, and as I’ve previously discussed in these playlists the concept of authenticity in country music is a source of neverending anguish for me. But his newest album The Straight Hits! has largely cured that for me because it’s not good at all, is extremely contrived (all the song titles have the word ‘hit’ in them) and he’s shaved his beard and replaced it with one of the worst irony moustaches I’ve ever seen. So now I’m free to enjoy The Last Of The Country Gentlemen as a character construction, which allows me a far deeper and truer engagement than the idea of a man actually living and thinking like this which is frankly a little embarrassing.

Codeine Dream - Colter Wall: I love this song, it has that feeling that great folk songs do of feeling like you’ve always known it. The strongest moments on this Colter Wall album to me are in songs like this that chase this particular feeling of morose isolation, and where he leans away from storytelling like his biggest hit Kate McCannon - a kind of cliche country murder ballad. This song is fantastic because of the way it wallows in this black depression not as a low point, but as a reprieve from the lower previous point. Things are as bad as they get now, and they’re always going to be like this, but at least I don’t dream of you anymore.

Motorcycle - Colter Wall: I only just found out about Colter Wall this month and have been listening to this album over and over. When I first heard him I though it was strange I'd never heard of him before because he's obviously some old country veteran based off his voice, but it turns out he's 24 and this is his first album he just sings like he ate a cigar. I love this song especially because it's so straighforward. It's a simple and supremely relatable mood: what if I bought a motorbike and fucking died.

Who By Fire - Leonard Cohen: I watched American Animals a couple of weeks ago and it’s a great movie, highly recommended. This song plays near the end and I waited for the credits to find out what this great song was, and like a rube found out it’s only one of the most celebrated songwriters of all time. I’ve never had much of a Leonard Cohen phase, somehow. In my mind I always get him mixed up with Lou Reed, which I’m learning is actually way off. I love the harmony vocals in this, and the way they move around into the shadows in the ‘who shall I say is calling’ parts.

Words From The Executioner To Alexander Pearce - The Drones: Alexander Pearce was a convict who escaped Sarah Island’s penal settlement in Tasmania with seven other convicts in 1822. He was recaptured two months later alone. In 1823 he re-escaped with a fellow convict, Thomas Cox and again was returned alone.He was executed by hanging later having eaten six men during his escape attempts.

It Ain’t All Flowers - Sturgill Simpson: I found this album going through the Pichfork 200 albums of the decade list and I feel like a fool for not having heard it sooner because now I am completely obsessed. Sturgill Simpson is doing the very best work in country music right now because he's looking backwards with one eye and forwards with the other and this song is a great illustration: a perfect Hank Williams Jr type country song with big voiced hollers that morphs into a surprise psych freakout for the whole second half.

Desolation Row (Take 1, Alternate Take) - Bob Dylan: I’ve always liked Desolation Row a lot as a song but the acoustic guitar on the album version is simply not good, it's just kind of mindlessly playing this long directionless solo the whole time and over the course of a song this long it really adds up to just being annoying. Luckily because it’s a Bob Dylan song there’s a whole universe of alternate takes and mixes and this is a great pared down version I found without it. The best kind of Bob Dylan songs are the ones where he just makes an endless stream of allusions and bizzare imagery, and this and Bob Dylan's 115th Dream are my favourite examples of it.

Living On Credit Blues - El Ten Eleven: This is a groove I get stuck in my head a lot, and this is also a song I think would work well as a theme for a tv show. I've been meaning to do a 30 second edit of it just for my own amusement, maybe I'll do that soon. El Ten Eleven are a duo where one guy plays drums and one guys plays a double necked guitar/bass and looping pedals and somehow against all the odds of that description they manage to make emotional, driving instrumental music of very deep feeling, like this song which is one of my all time favourites.

Dusty Flourescent/Wooden Shelves - Talkdemonic: This is sort of a companion Living On Credit Blues, and Talkdemonic are similarly an instrumental duo with good drums. This entire album from 2005 is highly recommended, it's a sort of halfway between the post rock of the time and a kind of acoustic hiphop instrumentals that ends up sounding very rustic and homemade, like a soudtrack for a winter cabin.

Turnstile Blues - Autolux: This is a perfect song, built around a perfect beat. Every part just fits perfectly.

Fort Greene Park - Battles: The new Battles album is finally out and I absolutely love it. I cannot think of another band that has shed members in the same way as Battles; originally a quartet on their first album, then a trio for their second and third and now down to a duo for their fourth album - and somehow still performing material from their first album live. The paring down has seemingly only servers to focus them and the new album sounds fresh but still distinctively Battles, with no sense of anything lost or missing. This song is my standout so far, and the guitar line in particular is so good and interesting to me because I don’t think I’ve ever heard Ian Williams play something so distinctly guitar-y in his whole career. This is a straight up pentatonic riff with bends and everything. Filtered through his usual chopped and looped oddness it feels like he’s almost gone all the back around the guitar continuum and is this close to just doing power chords next album. And I’ll support him!

Diane Young - Vampire Weekend: I've listened to this song a lot in my life and I only looked up the lyrics the other day to find out that the opening line is 'you torched a SAAB like a pile of leaves' which I somehow never noticed. What a power phrase. There's also this very good quote from Ezra about it: "I had this feeling that the world doesn’t want a song called ‘Dying Young’,“ says Koenig, "it just sounded so heavy and self-serious, whereas ‘Diane Young’ sounded like a nice person’s name.”" and he was right to do it. This song is 100 times better because he’s saying Diane Young than it would be if he was saying ‘Dying Young’. That’s a songwriting tip for you.

Monster Mash - Bootsy Collins & Buckethead: Hey did you hear Bootsy Collins and Buckethead did a cover of the monster mash? Thank god for freaks.

The Dark Sentencer - Coheed And Cambria: There's not that many bands that I absolutely loved as a teenager that I've completely abandoned. I've moved on from a lot but I'll still keep up with them if they have a new album or something. Coheed And Cambria are one that I've almost completely turned my back on. They've had 3 apparently pretty patchy albums since I stopped listening after Year Of The Black Rainbow, which was extremely bad and really taught me what people mean when they say an album is 'overproduced'. On a whim I decided to see what they're up to now and listened to their album from last year and guess what: it rocks. It's got everything you'd expect from them: big riffs, bad and confusing lyrics, his weird high voice, overwrought and overlong songwriting, cheesy muscleman solos. Everything about this band is sort of cheesy and embarrassing and takes itself way too seriously, but I'm discovering slowly that that's what's so good about it. The weird pulp sci-fi story and mindset that underpins this whole band is ridiculous and overwrought and as a result it gives the music a reason to exist the way it does. It’s so big and dumb because the story it serves is so big and dumb. It feels exactly like reading Perry Rhodan or some increidibly long and dense but not especially good series like that, it’s pulp music and that’s what I love about it.

Romance In A (6 Hands) - Sergei Rachmaninoff: Piano works for 4 hands (where two guys sit next to each other on the same piano) have always seemed to tend towards the realm of the gimmick or party trick, and works for 6 hands (where three guys do it) even more so - but this Rachmaninoff piece is just beautiful and I can’t believe I haven’t heard of it before this month. It doesn’t overload everyone with a million things to do, it just builds this very wide harmonic bed for the simple melody to swim in - then the way the melody transfers over to the middle register is just magical before the tension of the final section takes over and builds.

Love's Theme - The Love Unlimited Orchestra: I’m so glad I got to learn about the Love Unlimited Orchestra this month. Aside from having one of the best names in music, they were Barry White’s backing band and had their own solo instrumental records too. Here’s a fun aside: Kenny G was a member when he was 17 and still in high school. This is a genre of music that has seemed to totally disappear into the realm of parody and farce only which is sort of a shame because it is unironically very beautiful and dense in its own way.

Dancing In The Moonlight - Liza Minelli: Can you believe I thought Dancing In The Moonlight by Toploader was an original until the other day when my girlfriend played this Liza Minelli version that predates it by several decades? This also isn’t the original! It was written by a band named King Harvest in 1972, with this version AND a version by Young Generation both coming out in 73 and a whole bunch of others in between (including a Baha Men version in 94) before Toploader finally had a proper hit with it in 2000. Truly the world works in mysterious ways. This version is the finest I think, it just goes and goes, frenetically unwinding at a breakneck pace before opening up into a flute solo of all things and then winding up again even and finishing in a kick line breakdown. Absolutely no limits.

Girls - Royal Headache: The sheer amount of power and melody that this song manages to pack into a minute and a half is incredible, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more instantly relatable opening lyric than “Girl! Think they’re to fine for me! Oh girls! And I’m inclined to agree!”

Pov Piti - Matana Roberts: In anticipation of Matana Roberts new volume of her Coin Coin album series that just came out I relistened through the three previous albums and they are even more powerful than I remembered. This song serves as a pretty good mission statement for the whole project, and the heartrending tortured screams that open it set the tone for the rest of it. Matana Roberts sings the injustices of slavery into being, and her sing-song delivery highlights the trauma - her indifferent delivery mirroring the indifference of the world at large. The way she rattles off this story like she’s gone over it a million times and grown numb to the facts only accentuates the pain in the telling, a pain that rises to the surface in the screams of her instrument and herself.  

Kingdoms (G) - Sunn 0))): This new Sun 0))) album is one of my favourites they’ve ever done because it’s so straightforward and back to basics. Every song is just ten minutes of straight up no-nonsense, big, rich, drone. They even put the notes in the track names so you can drone along if you like.

listen here

[cheswirls]

it’s your extension (let me extend) 3/6

sabo wakes with a start, tears in his eyes.

he sets up in bed, touches his wet face. 

he touches the bandage on his cheek instead, and winces at the contact.

in the corner, his phone goes off. he stumbles up to check on it, shivering as his feet hit the cold flooring.

he has a text from robin. almost there, it reads. his eyes furrow. almost . . almost where?

“what did you do this time,” he mumbles under his breath, tossing the phone on his bed in favor of slipping a worn notebook from his desk. he flips it to the last entry.

whatever you did to your face, it hurts.

robin says you’re reckless, so i guess i didn’t act out of character.

she saved my ass.

i might’ve almost gotten into a scuffle at work.

don’t worry, i didn’t.

your pretty face still only has one bruise.

you should be more careful, by the way.

also, i scored you a date. 

shinjuku station, 10am.

i was hoping for another double event, if i’m being honest. 

but if you get to go, you better treat robin right!!

if nothing else, she’s a great friend.

you’re welcome.

he’s bounding down the hall before he can process most of the notes, working on a casual blazer over a tee, tripping over his untied boots. from the kitchen, makino calls out to him, watching as he stumbles past. sabo runs into the door, fixes his shoes, and opens it in a hurry.

“gotta go! i’ll be out all day!” he calls back. the door’s shut before she can reply.

the station is crowded, and he has no idea which section he’s supposed to meet robin at. he eventually just texts her, asking where she was, and she replies promptly with her location. it’s not tough to find her, after that.

she looks pretty, all dressed up in casual clothes.

sabo’s never been on a date before.

sabo’s never been on a date with a girl before either. he knows for a fact ace hasn’t, either, flashing back to an event that occurred a few weeks prior.

“she’s kinda pretty,” sabo mumbles, passing by a group of girls on the road. from his other side, lami nudges him in the side.

“girls don’t like hearing that unless you mean it,” she huffs. “just stick to hitting on kidd.”

sabo raises a brow. “i thought it was the other way around?”

lami stops, pausing mid-walk. she recovers after a moment, laughing, and shoves him away. sabo over-balances, and he nearly loses his footing. she laughs on. “maybe you’re not as dense as i thought,” she howls, and sabo’s face colors.

nah, pretty sure he still is, he thinks. then, without thinking, he adds, “i think he would still settle for you, though.”

lami winces, laugh cutting off. “wow, harsh.”

sabo shrugs. “just my way of saying it’s never going to happen.”

“thanks, i guess?” lami mumbles. “you’re right, though. his dad would flip if he started dating a guy. now i see why you wanna move away so bad.”

sabo didn’t think that had been one of the reasons, but as he starts thinking, he realizes she may be on to something. an empty town in the middle of nowhere, a dad who ran out to play politics, a family who enforces traditions, nothing to do, nothing to see once you get over the lake-

and. suppression?

maybe not for ace. maybe the goa appeal was more about anonymity. not being important, being free to be who he really was.

or maybe he was reading too much into it. he hadn’t had the luxury before shanks and makino, after all, always being told he couldn’t like girls and boys-

sabo’s never been on a date, but he knows robin is nice, and pretty, and ace likes being around her. sabo does, too, so he decides to make the most of it.

they go a bunch of different places, having the whole day, after all. an observation tower, an upscale diner, even a cat cafe, after some careful prodding and recalling koala mentioning it one day. sabo thinks it goes okay, but he knows their conversation was awkward. he was by far not a smooth talker, and it showed as the day progressed. sabo could talk his way out of any situation -and when he chose not to, well, there was a bandage on his cheek for a reason- but chatting up someone about everyday stuff was not his strong suit.

they take lots of pictures, and sabo humors them just for ace to be able to see later. his camera roll had never been so full before they started switching bodies, and he certainly didn’t pick up the habit, but he could deal with it. 

they end at an art museum. it’s small, but everything is well-placed. robin signs the registry for them both, and sabo stands quietly in the background, looking at the paintings hanging in the foyer.

robin stays quiet this time, wandering from piece to piece, picture to picture. sabo trails after her. it’s not until they reach a wall of photographs that he pauses, eyes catching onto a piece in the center.

it was the lake. the crater-lake where ace’s mountain village was.

he stares at it a bit too long. robin wanders back.

“you’re . . a bit different today,” she notes. sabo tries not to let it bother him.

they’re passing a footbridge when sabo speaks next. “are you hungry again? we can go and grab dinner.”

robin pauses in her walk, turning back to gaze at him. it’s the first time sabo notices that the sun is setting, just behind her head. 

“nah,” she says. “let’s be done for the day.”

sabo tries not to visibly deflate. “oh. okay.”

robin smiles and moves a little closer. “hey . .” she waits until sabo looks up. “you . . used to have a little crush on me, didn’t you?”

“eh?” sabo’s face colors.

“but now you don’t.” her smile turns softer. “now . . you’re in love with someone else, right?”

“what?” sabo blinks. 

your pretty face still only has one bruise.

his mouth opens. nothing comes out.

across from him, robin laughs, covering it with one hand. sabo copies her, but he’s not laughing, just covering his own quickly-reddening face.

“n-no!” his shoulders move up to his ears. 

“hmm?” she moves closer. “you sure?”

“positive!”

“well, okay.” she pats him on the shoulder. “bye, sabo. thanks for today.”

the sky is more dark than light, now, and sabo’s still on the bridge. 

way, far ahead of him, the last of the sun’s rays hit the goa skyline. twilight, for sure. 

he has his phone out. there’s a last bit of the notes ace wrote for him that he didn’t read, in his rush to leave. lucky for him, ace always took a picture when he finished writing.

by the time your date is over, you’ll be able to see the comet.

sabo frowns, looks up at the sky. the only thing he sees is a passing airplane.

his gaze moves back to his phone, but it catches on the hand holding it, at the red cord wrapped several times around his wrist. he stares. and stares.

wait.

wasn’t that-

a noise catches his attention, and he throws his head up just to spy another airplane, this one lower, just having taken off.

he sighs, closes out of the photos to open his number directory. comet? what is he talking about?

they’d given each other their numbers a while back, but never used them, always opting for the notes instead.

sabo’s finger clicks on ace’s, bringing up his contact.

ace portgas.

he stares. and stares.

then he clicks ‘call’, and holds the phone up to his ear.

“when did you give me . .” he mumbles, almost whispers. his phone rings. and rings.

-

ace’s phone buzzes from across the room. 

he opens his eyes, awoken from his catnap against the window seat. looking out, he can see the sun beginning to set, disappearing behind the crater’s crest.

slowly, he moves to stand.

“hello?”

“ace? why weren’t you at school today?”

“oh, kidd?” he blinks. had he been expecting different? “i just didn’t feel like going,” he lies. “sorry.”

“what about the festival?”

he hums. “that’s tonight, huh?” right. the comet. it would reach its closest point that night, be the brightest. it had been such a long day already, he’d forgotten.

“lami and i are meeting at nine.”

“okay.” he turns to the mirror, pushes a hand up into his hair, into the dark strands setting just below his shoulder.  “ . . i’ll be there.”

“admit it. you just wanna see ace in a yukata.”

kidd flinches back before glaring sharply at lami, who’s laughing at him now, legs swinging from the bench they were set on.

“just because it’s a festival-”

“oh, come now, luffy won’t let him leave the house without one. their grandpa would make lu wear one, and he’ll whine to ace until he’s matching, until they’re both suffering the same.” her smile turns a little whimsical as her gaze falls, staring at her own yukata sleeve. “though, i don’t see why. they’re really comfy.” she looks over at kidd again, a glimmer in her eyes. “y’know, i did offer you one of law’s old ones. instead you chose to show up in oil-stained shorts, an old hoodie.”

kidd huffs. “so what?”

she shrugs. “nothing.”

kidd crosses his arms, leans back. “still. he didn’t sound so good.”

“it’s ace. he gets worked up sometimes. if he said he’d come, he’s probably better than you think-”

“hey.”

they both turn. 

“ace!" lami’s smile quickly turns into a frown. her eyes widen. “w-wha-”

kidd falls off the bench.

ace blinks, first at her, and then at the redhead now sprawled across the dirt. he rubs a hand on the back on his neck, the short strands there tickling his palm. “is it that different?”

kidd is frowning. lami wants to ask, but they’re not that far behind ace, so she grabs his arm and lets them fall a few more paces back, ace walking further ahead, blissfully unaware. “what is it?” she hisses.

“think he got his heart broke?” kidd mutters. “think there’s some other guy?”

“why? because he cut his hair?” lami scoffs. “can’t people just cut their hair? it doesn’t have to be all about break-ups.”

“sure, but why so short? i can see his ears now, and it’s not even up!”

“get over yourself! just because you don’t like it-”

“hey, who says i don’t-”

“oh!”

ace’s voice breaks them out of their argument. they turn to see him breaking out into a jog, dipping off the road, and onto the grass proper. “you can see it,” he calls back, and lami and kidd forego their arguing to catch up.

ace stands on the edge of the ridge, looking out across the lake, and up into the sky.

it’s now after half-light, and above them, the comet is flying.

his breath catches as his eyes lock onto the trail it leaves behind, colors shining like the northern lights he’d always heart so much about. just another place to go, another thing to see, when he finally left this place.

the comet had been a tease since the start of the year. news anchors loved to talk about how it was coming, something that only passed every 1200 years. astronomers set a date for midsummer, for about four days you could view the comet. the time grew closer and closer. even as he switched with sabo, the next morning, news about the comet would always be playing on the old television at he ate breakfast.

sabo . .

i wonder if he can see it.

on the third day, today, tonight, right now, the comet moved to its closest point to the earth’s surface, and became the most visible than any of the other three days.

ace’s eyes move from the trail to the white speck itself. he hears lami and kidd come up behind him.

he watches as the comet moves, and then blinks, gaze caught on a new streak separating from it, dipping off, going red from white, and red, and redder, and lower and lower and lower-

oh.

-

“the number you have reached is no longer in service. please hang up and try-”

sabo sighs and ends the call. must’ve typed it in wrong. whatever, he’d ask for it again next time they switched. he pockets his phone, finally moving off the bridge. his fingers move to wrap around the cord.

“how’d it go?” shanks asks as soon as he’s through the door. sabo only sighs, faking his forlornness to exaggerating lengths to hide the real stuff lingering underneath. shanks lets out a breathy laugh, and then he’s slinking off to his and makino’s bedroom, holding a finger to his lips before he slips in and shuts the door.

sabo catches the hint, and takes off his boots before moving across the apartment.

at the end of the night, before he can properly settle in bed, he reaches for his marker and scribbles down his arm.

when did you give me this?

he wakes up, and the note is still on his arm. 

the next night he frowns, re-writes it.

the next night, before he can re-write it, he forgets what he was going to write in the first place.

the next night, he starts drawing.

-

sabo draws ace’s village, so he won’t forget, just like he forgot the writing on his arm, just like he forgot everything that happened before he got the burns, before shanks and makino. he draws for the same reason he’s been writing those notebooks.

he draws the view from the dining room, when the shoji doors were open, and the tatami a little damp from the weather. he draws the lake, and the houses nestled into the cliffside. he draws the front of kidd’s mother’s diner. he draws the high school, sitting alone at the top of the crest. he draws the broadcast club room, where he’d come to pick up lami after school had ended. he draws the big torii gates on the edge of the village. he draws the radio towers clustered together on the far side of the lake.

he draws the shrine, the streams and puddles and the tipped tree and the giant stone slab. he draws the scenery of the plateau atop mount corvo over and over and over.

he draws until he runs out of pages, until the sketchbook is empty, all the drawings torn out and hung on the wall, the last remaining page all the notes he and ace scribbled all those months ago.

he uses money he’d earned from his job to buy a new one, because without ace spending it all on food after school, he actually has some spare.

time passes. life goes on. he spends time with koala, goes to work, eats breakfast with makino, gets teased by shanks. he keeps drawing, filling his entire wall with sketches pinned there by a strip of clear tape. 

he glances down at the red band tied to his wrist, and can’t help but think, well.

that he’s missing something.

-

summer fades. the weekend comes. sabo takes all the drawings off his wall, and pulls out a trash can.

he stuffs the tape into it, then shoves the paper into the sketchbook, and slides that into his backpack.

he hikes on a jacket, because it was still rainy season, and he didn’t fancy getting wet. 

he wraps the red band around his wrist, ties it there with a clasp. it’s routine at this point. methodical. 

a glance at his phone confirms koala’s last message, a thumbs-up symbol, for the millionth time. sabo moves out of the thread to a different one, to a long list of failed-to-send messages.

he knows, if he looks at his call log, it will read the same. ace portgas, over and over and over again.

he opens up a new app, his list for settlements surrounding the corvo mountains. it was a wide mountain range, so he had his work cut out for him.

he’s worth it, he thinks, and then slams a lid over that thought quickly. he shoves his phone into his jacket, slings his backpack over his shoulder, and leaves the apartment before makino wakes up for the day.

at the station, koala and robin are waiting for him.

sabo blanches. he turns to robin first. “w-what are you doing here?”

“koala told me,” she hums, smiling down at him, curse her height. 

he turns to glare at the redhead next. “traitor.”

koala hands him a ticket. “say it on the train,” she drones, pushing him towards the platform.

“i told you to cover my shifts and make up a lie to makino,” he hisses, once they’re all properly seated. koala rolls her eyes.

“you have a week off. i’m not lying to makino. i told her we were taking a trip.” she shoves a finger into his chest. “and i’m not letting you go alone. you’ve never met this guy before, what if he’s some old man?”

sabo sputters. “he’s not-”

“plus, you’ve been acting weird.” she crosses her arms over her chest, leaning back and from her other side, robin leans over.

“it’s someone you met online, right?”

“no!” he says, maybe a touch too loud.

“i think he’s been using a dating site,” koala whispers to her. robin laughs.

“no!” he says again, definitely too loud this time. he ducks in his seat, shoulders hunching, as people turn to stare.

it’s not until they’re switching train cars at another station does robin finally ask the big question. “so. where are we going?”

“uh.” sabo gulps. “i don’t exactly know.”

robin stares.

sabo moves his gaze away. “i just know what the town looks like. and that it’s somewhere near the corvo mountain range.”

the silence remains. settles. the train begins to move.

“you’re a terrible trip planner,” koala finally says, snorting.

sabo huffs. “you didn’t have to come!”

“yeah, i did,” she continues, bumping shoulders with him. “that’s what friends are for.” she gestures to robin. “and we’re your friends. we’ll help you find him.”

they leave goa nearing six in the morning.

it’s almost been eight hours since then.

they’ve rode the train for hours. sabo shows his drawing, the one of the lake and the village, to everyone. train conductors, station workers, taxi drivers, inn keepers, the people who served them breakfast, the couple who offered them lunch, the town mascot. the list went on and on.

sabo spies a torii gate and forces them off at the next stop. his heart falters as he sees the scenery is wrong, gate on top of a slope, and stone steps leading up to it. he stops a pair of older women before they can make their way up, but they don’t know what to make of his drawing, either.

sabo shows his drawing to passing farmers, shopkeepers, other locals, other tourists, delivery men, young kids, old people. he points to a distant mountain, comparing it to the one in his sketch, but gets waved off each time. not here, they say. and not anywhere i know. sorry.

he shows it to the bus driver who takes them out of town, but when that, too, comes up empty, he has the old man stop on the edge, and all three of them collapse onto the tiny waiting bench.

“this isn’t going to work,” sabo sighs, his head falling into his hands.

“what?” koala gasps. from his other side, robin looks affronted. “but we’ve spent so much effort!” and money, she doesn’t add, but there’s no need.

“we?” sabo side-eyes her. “i’ve been doing all the work!”

koala had taken sabo’s wallet hostage, and treated herself and robin to a local delicacy at every stop, not to mention small knick-knacks. they’d played cards as sabo conversed with locals, stopped to admire the small stations and all they had to offer, took tons and tons of pictures while sabo obsessed over the list on his phone, hope fading with every crossed-out line being added.

-

“a ramen.”

“a ramen!”

“uh, a ramen, then.”

their server, an older woman who ran the shop with her husband, hums and takes their menus. “it’ll be right out.”

sabo sighs for the zillionth time that day and resists plunging his face into his water glass. he tosses a straw into it instead, swirls it around.

“maybe i should just give up. could we make it back to goa by tonight?”

robin turns to look out the window. “could be close. let me check.” she pulls out her phone.

koala leans forward in her seat. “but, sabo! is that really okay?”

there’s a faint glimmer in her eyes he doesn’t want to acknowledge. he sighs again, instead, and leans back in his seat.

their ramen comes. they dig in, each surprised and impressed by the flavor. sabo considers koala’s words and sets down his bowl halfway through. he plucks the drawing out from the sketchbook, set in the chair beside his own. “this isn’t going well,” he mutters. “does it matter if it’s okay? what choice do i have?”

“oh. that’s fuusha, ain’t it?”

sabo blinks, then looks up. the woman is back, refilling their water glasses. her eyes are on the drawing in sabo’s hands.

“drawin’ you’ve got there looks just like it. hey, hon, come look at this!” she calls. from behind the counter, the chef pauses in his work, then slowly ambles out.

“yeah. that’s fuusha,” he notes.

“he’s from there, y’see,” the woman tells sabo.

“brings back memories,” he hums.

sabo feels his breath catch. “fuu . . sha.”

the hope returns, a small flicker growing into a large flame.

-

“yeah! fuusha, that’s it! do you know where it is?”

he’s nearly out of his seat. his heart is racing, suddenly his head feels a lot lighter as the adrenaline kicks it. fuusha. fuusha village. he’s found it. after everything that day -no, the week they’d stopped switching-

no. the months since they started.

he’d finally found it. him. ace.

something shifts on the chef’s face. him and his wife share a glance. “where . . ?” she asks. “but . .”

sabo blinks. he feels like he’s stuck in a loop. the adrenaline kicks into high gear. his hand squeezes down on the wooden tabletop. across from him, koala and robin exchange looks.

“fuusha,” koala murmurs. “isn’t that . . ?”

robin’s eyes widen. “yeah. that’s where the comet-” she cuts herself off, face closing off.

sabo catches it, though. he turns his head sharply, from the shop owners to his friends. “comet?” he mutters, recalling the mention of such from ace’s note, a week back.

when robin looks back up to him, it’s with very sad eyes.

his heart plummets.

sabo’s already running. it’s short work to jump over the yellow caution tape warding strangers off from the area.

he jogs to the edge of the crater. to his left, the high school sat, still intact, still giving the illusion that everything was okay.

below him, where fuusha should have sat, there was a second lake.

his heart catches.

rubble coated the side of the crater. everything below the ridge he stood on was decimated, destroyed. 

there was a second lake, almost as big as the first. it formed where the walls of the crater once began, right near the bottom, where sacha’s restaurant and kidd’s home had once been. it stretched near where the top of the crater was, where sabo now stood. the wreckage collected on the sides. in the middle, there was nothing but rock and earth and water.

his breathing stops.

he lets his arms fall limp to his sides.

behind him, robin and koala come to a stop a safe distance away. koala gulps as she catches sight of the damage.

“hey . . this can’t be it. there’s gotta be a mistake, right, sabo?” she asks, her voice raising. “this can’t be the place, right? you’re mista-”

“i’m not!” sabo shouts, spinning on his heel. his eyes are burning. “this is it! this is fuusha. but . .” he shakes his head. “i . . no.” he gulps. “i was here. i was just here. i’ve been in the high school-” he gestures vaguely at the building. “more times than i can count this semester. i’ve been here. i was here. how is it . .” he shakes his head. “how can it be . . . ?”

he stands there for a long time. tears dot the ground at his feet. he keeps his head hung low, so he doesn’t have to see the sun finally setting behind him, drawing this impossibly long day to a close. from further back, behind the girls, the ramen chef leans against his car, having taken the time to drive them all down there.

“you can’t have,” robin says, speaking up softly. “the disaster happened three years ago. no one has touched fuusha since.” she swallows, looks pained. “lots of people died, sabo.”

his breath catches, again. he remembers, very faintly. seeing the comet. seeing the split.

his hand reaches for his jacket pocket. he slides out his phone, and his hands begin to tremble. “no,” he mumbles. “no, that’s not right. i-i still have the notes he wrote for me. all the pictures he took-”

he cuts himself off, staring at his camera roll.

a bunch of blank image slots greet him.

he clicks on one, almost frantic, and is greeted with a simple message. “image corrupted?” he murmurs. “that can’t-” 

it’s like that for all of them. his whole camera roll, all the way up from when they first started switching. 

his phone dies, right there in his hands. he hadn’t charged it all day.

sabo lets out one choked, forced sob.

he collapses before he can let out another.

-

the miran comet had an orbital period of around 1200 years.

three years ago, astronomers predicted its path near earth, down to the day, the hour, where it would be a stone’s throw from the atmosphere. three years ago, as summer finally dawned, it was all the news stations could talk about. the comet was coming. the comet would be visible. what weather to expect, what it would look like through a telescope versus through the naked eye, what deterioration it had taken in space from the last time it had flown by the planet.

what no one had predicted, though, was for the comet’s nucleus to split. three years ago, the stuff that made the comet a comet, the snowball part that was lit on fire, for a simple enough explanation, broke. plummeted to earth, as the rest continued its course. caught on fire. fell. crashed.

“right into fuusha,” koala finishes, pointing to a spot on a map from one of the many books they had lying open on the table. sabo sat in a chair in front of them all, head resting on his hands. he’d hadn’t -more like refused to- believed it, so after they had gotten a ride back into town, robin drug him to a library, where they dug up articles and such about fuusha from three years back.

it was starting to process, by now. he was starting to remember. seeing the comet split, watching from the rooftop.

“a third of the town died,” robin murmurs, coming up to them with a new book. “nearly five hundred people.”

she sets it down and sabo’s eyes widen at the title. it was a list of victims. a thick, black-binded tome. he doesn’t waste time in flipping it open, in scanning the names.

it doesn’t take long before his finger stops moving down the page. “kidd,” he mutters, voice hoarse. 

and another time, on a different page. lami, he thinks, attempting the words vocally with no success, lips moving along silently. 

and then, on a separate page, the name he didn’t want to find. the one that makes him gasp, breathy and quiet, as his finger slides to rest over the number, over the ‘17’ marking the age he died at.

portgas ace.

koala leans closer. “that’s him? ace?” her lips purse. “then, that can’t be the same person. i mean, he died three years ago, sabo! it’s right there . .” she trails off, eyes widening as sabo begins to shake his head.

“no,” he whispers. “a week ago, he told me i could see the comet. he . . he-”

ace?

old man garp’s words echo back to him.

you’re dreaming now, aren’t ya?

“he . . what . . .” sabo blinks, looks up from the names.

but.

it wasn’t supposed to be a-

-

koala finds robin in the common room of the small inn they’d picked to stay for the night. it was far too late to catch a train back to goa, not with all the stops and transitions they’d have to make. unfortunately, the inn they had found had only had one room available. robin had insisted it was fine, but koala was closer to sabo, the two had been around the other for years, and she didn’t exactly know how well the raven was really taking it. sharing a room with two teenagers.

koala watches for a moment as robin’s eyes move around the room, watching, scanning. she pulls out a book before too long, and before she could get into it, koala marches over. robin looks up expectantly once koala’s shadow falls over the pages.

her lips pull tight. “sorry we couldn’t get another room,” she mutters, shuffling over to rest in the seat next to robin, who only smiles, marks her page.

“i’ll manage. how’s he doing?”

“ah . .” she glances away. “well. still reading. he did take a lot from the library, but . .” she shrugs. “he brought his laptop, i guess. he’s reading internet articles now. anything he can find about fuusha.” her eyes move back to robin, questioning, watching. “what do you think of his story?”

“hm.” robin blinks, closes her book. “i’d sooner believe in reincarnation,” she answers bluntly. 

koala almost laughs. how . . very robin-like. 

“if you had told me, say, sabo got into an accident three years back. and ace’s soul was reincarnated into him, instead of his own. that would make more sense.” she shrugs again, as koala’s expression shifts. “still certainly  . . not exactly sane. but more believable than-”

“that?” her brows raise. “yeah. i know what you mean.”

robin frowns. “or if it was from the same time-”

“but it’s not.” koala sighs. “not if it was recent, for sabo.”

“i don’t think i can believe it,” robin answers after a long, silent moment. koala nods, slowly.

-

“i do think,” she continues, and koala perks up, thinking that the conversation had been over. “that he had been acting differently, lately. almost like he could’ve been an entirely new person. i would like to believe it.” robin’s lips purse. her eyes go carefully blank. “maybe i could have, if ace was still alive.”

“but . .” koala murmurs.

“regardless, i do think he’s met someone.” robin smiles over at her, and koala only blinks. “someone who has changed him.”

“that, i can believe, at least.”

-

sabo brings up his camera roll again.

now, not even the notices of corrupted images are left. there’s not even blank space. his camera roll just picked up where he left it, middle of freshman year, some random things he thought looked cool, back before he could draw to preserve things for his memory.

he can’t even have the reassurance that the notes are still intact, in his notebooks. how many did he have, by now? nine? eleven? which one had ace been writing in again?

 . . if he had been at all?

he can’t even go home and check, either. trains weren’t running. it’d cost a fortune he didn’t have to get someone to drive him there. he would be walking for days if he set out on foot.

he turns his phone back off. puts his head in his arms, right over the folded articles spread out on the table. from the corner of his eye, his computer screen finally winks off to sleep.

there had to be a reason. there had to be.

option one. he saw the news three years ago. he remembered the scenery from then. that’s what he had been sketching, all this time. you see enough before and after photos, you can draw some old buildings, right?

option two. he really . . was dreaming. imagining. he runs a hand through his hair, face still pressed down onto his other arm. the switch only occurred in his dreams, right? or, was he schizophrenic, now? imagining people, forgetting days of his life.

option three. 

the door opens.

sabo sits up, rubbing at his face. “koala?”

“sorry, she’s in the bath.”

he looks over his shoulder. “oh. robin.”

“hey.” she moves closer. spies all the papers. her expression grows a bit pensive. she manages to even it out, slides into the chair across from him. “hand me a mag, okay?”

“sorry,” he mutters, staring blankly down at the same page and not comprehending a word. robin looks up, but sabo doesn’t. “for dragging you into this. for . . saying all this crazy stuff.”

robin watches him carefully before replying. “regardless, i did have fun today.”

sabo lets out a laugh. its short. “glad someone did.”

she flips a page, hums. “this one’s interesting,” she notes. “braided cords? tradition, apparently.”

sabo looks up.

robin does as well, glancing to his wrist. “that’s one, right? a braided cord.”

sabo blinks. looks down to the red wrapped around him. “i . . yeah,” he mutters. “yeah.” his brows furrow. “someone gave it to me. i can’t remember. i . . . when, who-” you know, though, his mind echoes, and he mentally nods. he knew who it belonged to. but. how long had he had it? when did he get it? when did he stop paying it mind?

when did he notice it again? all this time, and he only noticed . .

after it had ended?

wait.

“someone told me,” sabo begins, slow. “someone who makes braided cords. they represent the flow of time. twisting and tangling and unraveling and mending together again.” his eyes widen. across from him, robin’s narrow.

“wait,” he breathes, and one hand fumbles for his phone without him realizing. he finds the corner of a map, instead. “if i went there . .”

robin’s hand falls over his. he jumps, but she doesn’t pull back, even when he finally looks into her eyes.

“not tonight, at least, okay sabo?” robin murmurs. “rest tonight. it’s been a lot day.”

he nods. right. it had been a long day. and the weekend wasn’t over. he still had time.

except, did he really have time?

he writes a note, early, too early in the morning. he tells the girls to head back to goa. he would catch up with them.

there was one more place he had to check.

[serenlyss]

For the Sake of a Smile Chapter 4

Rating: G Relationships: terumob, teru&reigen, teru&ritsu, shigeo&ritsu, teru&tome Chapter Summary: Teru interviews for a part-time job. Crossposted to AO3: Chapter 4

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

"Invest in what’s real. Clean as you go. Drink while you cook. Make it fun. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It will be what it will be." — Gwyneth Paltrow

---

Teru stares up at the cafeteria menu and feels his stomach drop.

In retrospect, he should have known that such a posh school would have equally nice and expensive food, but staring at the prices on the board above his school’s lunch line, he realizes just how ridiculous they really are.

How does anyone afford this? he wonders to himself bitterly, counting bills in his head. He hasn’t exactly brought a ton of spending money with him from home, just whatever he’d had saved up at the time, and it’s clear that it won’t last long if he plans on eating at the cafeteria every day. He’d been anticipating having to pick up some sort of part-time job to cover his extra expenses, even with his tuition covered, and now he knows for sure that he’ll have to find something as quickly as possible.

He settles for a cheap ham sandwich and a miniature water bottle for his lunch; it won’t last him all that long, but it’s better than nothing. Then he retreats to an empty table, awkwardly taking a seat and leaning his head on his hand. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his messages with nothing better to do during his break. There’s a text from Tome at the very top of his notifications from that morning, and he cracks a smile at the sight of it.

“How’s rich person life suiting you? Have you let the fame and fortune go to your head yet?” it reads, with Tome’s signature unabashed snark woven into every word. He can practically hear her voice through his screen.

“About as well as you’d expect,” he replies honestly. “My class is full of rich snobs.” His text is only slightly sarcastic; while there is undoubtedly an air of snobbery amongst some of his more well-off classmates, the majority of them are friendly enough.

It’s the middle of the day, so he doesn’t expect Tome to get back to him for a little while. He tucks his phone back into his pocket and moves to unwrap his sandwich.

He’s interrupted before he can take a bite by Shigeo and Ritsu, the former of which waves a hand at him with a small, shy smile. Ritsu, predictably, hardly acknowledges his presence beyond a cursory glance as Shigeo pulls up a chair to sit across from Teru. “Mind if we join you?” he asks, as though he’s expecting Teru to refuse.

“Not at all,” he replies with a gracious wave of his hand, ripping a piece off the meager sandwich to nibble on. “I’m surprised you both have the same lunch period.”

“Oh, everyone in our homeroom has this lunch period, that’s how they divide it up,” Shigeo explains. “Ritsu does too, but the student council also meets during the lunch break, so he doesn’t usually hang around the cafeteria for very long.” As he speaks, he reaches into his bag to pull out his own lunch, homemade by the looks of it. It makes Teru ache a little for the food from his hometown, but he pushes that thought to the back of his mind before it makes him homesick.

Ritsu, on the other hand, is staring at Teru’s sandwich thoughtfully. “That’s all you’re eating?” he comments, and as he does, Shigeo seems to pick up on Teru’s meager lunch as well.

Teru reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear self-consciously. “Ah, well, the cafeteria food was… a bit pricier than I was anticipating,” he replies, attempting to sound as breezy as possible. “I haven’t managed to find myself a job yet, so I have to be careful about how much money I spend.”

Ritsu’s brow furrows, and Teru tries not to squirm under the younger boy’s intense gaze. He wonders why Ritsu keeps staring at him like that, like he’s some kind of puzzle that needs to be solved. 

“I see,” Ritsu says after a moment. He glances down at a watch around his wrist, then adds, “I need to get going, Shige, or I’ll be late for the meeting. I’ll see you at home.”

Shigeo shares a smile with his brother as Ritsu leaves for his meeting, then turns to face Teru again. “You say you’re looking for a job?” he says, bringing the conversation back to places Teru doesn’t really want to talk about. He supposes it isn’t worth trying to hide, though, it’s not as though it would be hard to tell that he comes from less-than-privileged means.

“Yes, eventually. The academy is paying for my tuition and board, which is very generous of them, but I’ll need to have a little money coming in for food and things like that, the necessities,” he explains, looking down into his water bottle with a tinge of embarrassment. He knows that many of the students here come from rich families who have absolutely no trouble sending money to pay for all their childrens’ expenses and more, but he’s not about to go searching for his own parents now. Just the thought of it steeps his dormant rage, and he quickly tamps it down before it can manifest in a scowl on his face.

Shigeo considers this for a moment, poking at his lunch with his fork, then says, “Maybe you could try the place I work.”

Teru looks up in surprise, both at the fact that Shigeo himself has some sort of side job he works and that Shigeo would be willing to recommend him. “Really? Where do you work?” he asks, his interest piqued.

Shigeo smiles, apparently pleased at Teru’s enthusiastic response. “It’s actually a diner on campus. I’ve been working there for a while now, ever since middle school. It’s kind of old and a lot quieter than it used to be, but I make a little money from the customers that do come in and Master Reigen teaches me a little about cooking, when he has the time,” Shigeo says. “You already know how to cook, though, so I bet he’d be really happy to have you working there, too! Want me to introduce you?”

Some of Teru’s enthusiasm wanes at hearing that the diner isn’t quite as successful as it had once been, but he can’t deny the allure of a job like this. He really can’t think of anything more perfect than working in a diner, but the academy’s cafeteria has a strict rule against hiring students, so he figures this may be his best shot. Besides, he reasons, it can’t hurt to just check it out, even if I decide it’s better to find somewhere else to work. With that in mind, he nods his head with a bright smile. “I’d love to! When can I come by?”

---

Teru finds it very, very hard to stay optimistic about this potential job opportunity when the path that leads to it is so overgrown. He can’t even tell if this is a legitimate path anymore or if he’s decided to take a spontaneous detour through the backwoods behind the tennis courts. The grass reaches up past his knees and the sprawling ferns block his path with every step. “This is so stupid!” he curses to himself, stumbling over a well-hidden rock and nearly eating dirt as he does. “No wonder no one goes anymore, who wants to go traipsing through the jungle just for some lunch?”

Still, the walk itself is only a few minutes, even if he does feel abnormally winded by the time he finally stumbles upon some sort of building. At first, all he can do is stare and wonder if he’s taken a wrong turn somewhere, somehow; the diner isn’t very appealing to the eyes, and it looks old, with ivy climbing insistently up its walls and its outdated, chipped sign hanging at a slight diagonal angle that he can’t possibly believe is intentional. Still, the name on the sign is the same one Shigeo had given to him, and the sign in the front window says “Open”.

Sweets and Such… what kind of name is that? Teruki thinks to himself as he clambers out of the woods and onto better-tamed grass, already feeling the suspicious scowl on his face starting to make itself known. He crosses his arms as he warily approaches the front door, hiking his bag higher up on his shoulder. He’d baked cookies earlier to bring to this meeting in hopes of making an impression and showing what he could do, but now he’s starting to wonder if it’s even worth trying if the place feels this much like he’s walking into a ghost town. Still, he’d agreed to this meeting at Shigeo’s behest and it would be terribly impolite to turn away this opportunity without at least putting in his fair share of effort, so he pushes the door open and pokes his head inside.

It’s empty, predictably, and the inside of the building doesn’t look much better than the outside. It’s after school hours, which would normally mean a place like this would be bustling with students fresh out of club activities and looking for a bite to eat, but instead the place looks like the owner is fit to move out. Tables and chairs are scattered around the parlor with no discernable order, and there are boxes of miscellaneous supplies and posters up against one of the walls. It’s, quite frankly, a total mess, and one look at it solidifies the fact that Teru would never choose to sit and eat here, not even if the prices were dirt-cheap.

“Hello?” he calls into the empty room, taking a wary step inside and letting the door close behind him. “I’m looking for a mister Reigen Arataka? Um, Shigeo told me he’d let you know I was stopping by.”

There’s a clatter from the kitchen at the back of the store, and Teru swears he hears someone yell “Shit!” before he calls out more clearly, “Oh, of course, one second please!”

There’s more noise from the kitchen, the sounds of metal objects being knocked against each other and the occasional boom of a particularly heavy footstep, before Reigen makes himself known. He strides out with a confidence that’s easily dispelled by his disheveled appearance; he looks to be somewhere in his mid to late twenties, but he’s rather scrawny, like a sapling that has to have supports tied to it so the storms don’t knock it over. His light brown hair is partly covered by a wrinkled bandana, which is a surprising shade of pale pink and matches the button-up shirt he wears under his black apron. In short, he looks more like a waiter than a chef, especially with the way he hastily puts a cigarette out into an overflowing ashtray as though to hide the fact that he’d been smoking in his own kitchen.

“You must be the one Mob was talking about.” The man greets him with a broad smile, one hand buried in the pocket of his blue jeans while he holds the other out for Teru to shake. “Uh, Hanazawa, right? Mob says you’re on the hunt for a job, and that you’re kind of a whiz in the kitchen. I’m Reigen Arataka, I own the place.” He releases Teru’s hand after his brief introduction, then gestures toward a nearby table. “Let’s sit, yeah?”

Teru starts a little at the invitation. “Oh, sure,” he acquiesces, sliding into a chair opposite Reigen. He casts a quick glance around the diner, then asks, “Are you renovating?” It’s the only suitable explanation he can find for why the place would be in such disarray, aside from laziness.

Reigen reaches up a hand to rub the back of his neck with an apologetic smile. “You could say that. I mean, I was going to, but that kinda fell through. I, uh, haven’t had a chance to clean the place up much,” he explains breezily, but the words feel like only half the truth. The tables aren’t dusty, so someone must be at least keeping them clean enough to eat on, but the whole place has an air of disrepair. “Anyway,” Reigen continues, hastily changing the subject, “I don’t hire many temps here, since the place is pretty small and I don’t exactly have a lot of extra money to spend on help, but it’s pretty rare for Mob to bring up anyone from school, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what the fuss was about.”

Teru decides to drop the subject of the diner’s shoddy state of being for now, but he definitely adds that to a mental list he’s making of the pros and cons. It looks like this: Pros, he’ll be able to make a bit of money on the side at a place that’s already approved by the school’s director. He’ll have a friend working here, too, and despite the place’s obvious flaws, Teru can tell that at one point it was probably pretty charming. Not to mention, he’ll be able to cook here, potentially whenever he likes. Cons, the diner is as dead as they come, and it practically reeks of laziness and loss of hope. No self-respecting restaurant owner would let their business fall so steeply into the garbage like Reigen obviously has. It’s clean, at least, but the atmosphere is terrible, and it’s hard to ignore the stench of cigarette smoke that permeates the parlor. The building is so hard to find that he wonders if Reigen gets any customers at all, and what he could possibly be doing to keep his doors open when things are this bad.

“Mob… is that a nickname?” Teru asks, instead of asking all the other questions that permeate his mind. He’s never heard anyone else call Shigeo by that name, and it feels almost mean on the tip of his tongue, like an insult.

“Ah, maybe he doesn’t go by that anymore?” Reigen muses, leaning back in his chair. “When he started working for me in middle school, he said it’s what his friends used to call him. He’s probably grown out of it by now.” He waves his hand as if to banish the thought, something Teru is quickly discovering is somewhat of a habit for him. His hands are almost never still, constantly gesturing or fiddling or doing something equally distracting to occupy himself.

Teru falls quiet for a moment, then remembers the cookies he’d brought with him. “Ah, before I forget,” he says quickly, reaching into his bag and producing a tupperware container he’d borrowed from the school’s kitchen. “I figured I’d bring something to share. Like a portfolio, I guess, if you want to try one.” He cracks open the container, revealing a dozen soft pumpkin cookies dotted with chocolate chips. “This is an old family recipe, something I used to make all the time for my siblings growing up.” The word ‘siblings’ slips off his tongue naturally in reference to the other kids at the orphanage, and despite the mundanity of it, it still seems to pique Reigen’s interest.

He flashes Teru a thoughtful look for just a second before shrugging his shoulders and reaching for the tupperware. “Sure, why not?” he relents, plucking a cookie from the top of the pile. He doesn’t hesitate to take a bite of it, brow furrowed thoughtfully. He falls quiet for a few seconds, even after he’s swallowed, and then he meets Teru’s gaze across the table, wagging a finger at him. “I knew there was something special about you, kid,” he says around a mouthful of pumpkin cookie. “I can tell you’ve been doing this for a long time. You’re lacking in formal training, but that’s to be expected. Were you self-taught?”

“Mostly,” Teru replies, which is mostly the truth. He remembers very little from the cooking lessons his mother would sometimes give him growing up, before she became distant. Most of what he knows is a combination of his own experimentation and his lessons with the sisters who had looked after him growing up.

Reigen nods, considering this, then uncrosses his legs and leans forward on the table, face a mask of sudden seriousness. He clasps his hands together in front of him. “Listen, I’m gonna be honest with you, kid, because I think you have real talent,” he starts. “I’m sure you can tell, ‘cause you strike me as the perceptive type, but this place isn’t exactly what it used to be. I’ve been wanting to close up for a while now, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. Frankly, I think the only reason it’s still open at all is because Mob likes it here. He’s my only employee, and only a handful of students even bother to come by anymore. I’m kinda surprised ol’ Suzuki hasn’t shut me down already, considering.”

Teru blinks at the name, recognizing it from his acceptance letter. Suzuki, the President of the academy and the one who had placed him in the special class with his recommendation. “I see,” he murmurs, “that’s a shame. This place seems like it was pretty nice, at one point.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Reigen accuses, raising a brow at Teru, but there’s amusement in his gaze. “Mob wants to fix the place up, make it more like what it was like when he started working here, maybe even better. I won’t pretend that hiring one new temp employee is going to suddenly fix everything, but… I’m curious about you, kid, and what kind of ideas you might have. Call it a hunch.”

Teru frowns, attempting to connect the dots in his head, but there’s something missing from the bigger picture that makes Reigen’s logic really fall to pieces. He seems to have an inordinate amount of confidence in Teru’s abilities and judgement, confidence based on a five-minute conversation and a single pumpkin cookie. Something about it makes his skin crawl uncomfortably. “What do you mean?” he asks cautiously, putting the lid on his tupperware and stowing the cookies in his backpack. “You want me to… help you remodel?” Who enlists a fifteen-year-old’s help with something like that? Not to mention, Shigeo seems to have been roped in as well. “I don’t think I’m qualified for that kind of job.”

Reigen shrugs. “Not necessarily the remodeling parts themselves, but, y’know, put in your input about what you think would look nice, give Mob a hand with the cooking and cleaning, that kind of stuff,” he amends, tapping a finger on the table in front of him. “It would take a bit of stress off my shoulders, at least, and I think Shigeo would be happy to have a friend around instead of hanging out with me all day. What do you say?”

Teru hesitates, mulling over the possibilities in his head. His first thought is that adjusting to a new job while they’re in the middle of remodeling--and not very successful, for that matter--is a terrible job choice, but the more he thinks about it, the more he sees this as a unique opportunity. It’s a resume builder, for one, even if it’s a little early to be worrying about that, and the job Reigen is offering him would allow him a lot of creative freedom, too. Not to mention, access to a kitchen without having to worry about scheduling time or competing with other students for space and supplies. How bad could it be? “How about a test run?” he compromises. “I can come in sometime this week for an afternoon, see what kind of shift you run, and then decide based on that.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Reigen agrees with a grin. “Come in on Friday, and I’ll have a list of things for you to work on.” He holds out his hand to Teru again, this time in farewell.

“Alright, then I’ll see you on Friday,” Teru replies, and gives Reigen’s hand a firm shake. Despite the oddity of the situation, he can’t help but feel a thrum of excitement at this new opportunity.

He only hopes it won’t come back to bite him in the butt later.

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Yume Twins Nov 18

Before we begin, I wanted to let anyone curious to know that I put in my order from Blippo.com. I was cheap though- so I’m not actually sure when it’ll be delivered!

This months theme: Twinkling Transformation

“Have you ever wished you could transform into something different? Like maybe a magical girl, or even your pet for a day? We certainly daydream about being whisked of into a new exciting world where we get to shapeshift into a something different ourselves! So this November we’re bringing you the Twinkling Transformation box, with some kawaii items that transform literally, an items that will change your surroundings too! The word transform or change is “henshin” in Japanese, so we hope you love your super kawaii items in this months box and that they will allow you to fulfill your henshin dreams!“

The prizes for this months photo contest feature a variety of cute Korilakkuma themed items.

While the Yume Prize box contained a variety of Kuromi and Keroppi products.

Sumikko Gurashi Peg Set

Our first item are these adorable little pegs/clips. These types specifically are the ones people usually use to hang up with some string decorated with ornaments, pictures, notes, etc, giving the area a cute but mature feel.

There are 4 sets available, each with 3 pegs.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

These are really cute little ways to add decoration to something usually so plain and basic. The little pieces are entirely made from wood and the glue is very strong, so I’m pretty sure they’ll hold. These are kind of small but they’ll have no problem doing their duty, I’ve seen tinier ones do it fine.

 Right now I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do with them... but I am very happy happy I got Neko x3 besides Shirokuma, he’s my favorite.

Kawaii Changing Pouch

Our next item is a pouch based on a the popular changing sequins trend that’s been going on lately. I love sequins and the idea appeals to me, but besides this I only have one thing featuring it.

Now, these were mostly Sanrio based, but they also have a Doraemon. There was a total of 6 the subscribers could find. As you can see I got the Kuromi and My Melody version. I’ll probably end up keeping it as is in the picture since I like how it looks.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

As cute as this is, the awkward way the pouch opens kind of bothers me. It unzips down one corner and side, due to a flap on the inside, which in a way I kind of like, but on the other hand it’s weird. I’m a bit conflicted on whether I like that or not, but I can definitely use this for stuff so I do like it.

My other complaint is that there are so many white accents (you can probably tell in the pic) and it makes the design look a bit messy. But that’s probably just my opinion.

Costume Pet Plushie

Our third item is perfect for the transformation theme :3 every magical girl needs a companion~

This plush set includes a variation of 10 possible dogs or cats you could get, including ones in full costume or just those with a hood, like mine.

Oh, and if you’re wondering why it’s on it’s side... it needs some “cleaning“ done because somehow it got dirty, even though kept it in the box and it was clean. Also, it’s just easier to get a picture this way.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ 

As much as I love plushes, I’ve seen cuter. Like it’s cute, but I wish it was more... inline with what you would actually see in Magical Girl series. I was also kind of perturbed over its condition and messed up whiskers (probably can’t tell in the picture, but they are very crazy and bent).

Sheep Microfiber Cleaner

This item, practical item is infused with bamboo charcoal to not only pick up dust, but absorb any nasty smells and deodorized wherever it gets put; for example, on the back of the wrapper it shows 2 of these within a pair of shoes.

Besides this brownish color, it’s also available in white and a pinkish-orange.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Not only is it the most kawaii cleaning buddy ever, but it works great!

Today we brought in a carpet to put own on the living room floor and we found so much dust and dirt beneath the couches and corners of the room we haven’t seen in forever- and I’m pretty sure I mentioned this, but I have dust allergies and they were having a field day. So I used this little sweetie to help pick up some of the dust.

I didn’t get a chance to test the scent thing though, I didn’t really get any sleep last night so my mind was elsewhere and it never occurred to me. But I did notice it seems to have it’s own little scent, so I’m pretty sure it could pick.

Sailor Moon Cleaner Cloth

I love when they include Sailor Moon items in the box x3 and this is a very practical item for me which makes it even better. Besides cleaning screens, they can also be used on glasses, or a make-shift hair tie in an emergency if they are the normal square ones (like if you have wind blowing your hair all over the place and you don’t have any actual hair things on hand.... I know from experience.)

This was available in any of the 5 main sailor scouts, and I actually think all 5 variations are pretty, so any of them would have been nice. They all have the same design, the only difference being the name written on it.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

On a side note... It actually killed me separating these two items. I know it’s silly but I loved how this packaging looked, I didn’t want to destroy it.

But as it turns out it was super easy to un-assemble and put back together. The bow on the back is just held together by flaps and the cloth is folded and partially sticking in a slot. So if I ever miss it I can just reassemble it. Word of warning though, the points of the ribbon are very sharp >3<

Uh, in terms of the cloth itself... I mean you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. It’s very silky smooth, a bit thick, and after today my laptop screen really needed a quick wipe.

Kawaii Mini Mini Memo

Available with Mochi Mochi Panda, Yeast Ken, or Animal Life, these mini memo pads are the perfect companion to the sequin pouch we got to look at earlier. Or just for putting in your pocket if you feel like it.

It has a nicely textured spine and a little information on the series/character on the back. The pad also has two styles of sheets, one vertical with a list format and one horizontal with designs like those on the cover. 

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I know this isn’t the most exciting review, but I had a long day and I really wanted to get this taken care of before bed because after all the work I did today, I won’t be doing anything tomorrow.

But to be fair what can you say about a notepad? I get them all the time from these boxes and you can’t really judge the quality of notepad/memo pad paper because you know it works. It’s paper.

♡ Cutie Ranking ♡

Content - 4 out of 5. I like what we got and I was very happy with the practicality and variety of it.

Price - 3 out of 5. I don’t know what all of these items cost, but most of the items are on the small side, paired with 2 bigger items. So I wouldn’t say it was worth it, but the reason the items usually cost so much is because of the name branding.

Theme: 3 out of 5. This box was pretty much a play on words, like rather than items that would cause personal transformation- these items bring transformation to our things. All items but the memo pad (which is a partner to the pouch pretty much) fit that idea, but... I don’t know, as a magical girl lover I really wish they did something more. 

Total Rank: 7 out of 10. I like the content well-enough and I’m not displeased by the box or anything. But at the same time, something about it just left a little to be desired to me. It’s boxes like this that remind me of how much I liked the Yume Twins I signed up with a few years ago. We got around 10 items, there was a wider variety, (the mascot twins who I still miss), they would include things like blind box re-ments or charms or accessories....

I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the box, it’s just that sometimes I find it hard to entirely like it as much as I want to. I always want to love my boxes, and I genuinely like them at the end of the day, but not every single one will appeal to every single subscriber.

♡ Cutie Scale ♡

1. Microfiber Sheep - I’m thinking of naming it Puffy, or maybe Wheats, cause that’s what I end up thinking of looking at it. Anyway it’s so cute and fluffy, I love how soft it feels. I’m not sure I could stand to try to use it to see if it actually removes stench though... I’d feel kind of bad.  

2. Memo Memo Pad - I love Mochi Mochi Panda, it always makes me happy to look at. I wanna squeeze it’s stuffed cheeks~

3. Kawaii Changing Pouch - I really wish the booklet showed both forms of the pouch like I did in my pic. A few of them are obvious without seeing the other image, but not all of them. I also wish the sequins were a bit more cleaned up, as I noted during my review of the item.

4. Sailor Moon Cleaner Cloth - It’s pretty and sorta elegant looking to me, I really like how it was packaged too, it’s so creative!

5. Sumikko Gurashi Peg - I’m glad I got Neko but the poses are very basic. I’ve seen them on tons of things I got from these boxes and I kind of wish they were more unique. 

6. Costume Pet Plush - it’s cute and really soft, but I still can’t figure out how it got dirty...

Alright guys, that will be doing it for this review. I’m sorry it’s kind of lame this time, but I just couldn’t think of much to say about the last few items. I feel like they were so obvious that it took away much opinion you know? Like if it works it works, if it’s cute then it’s a great bonus :D I promise to do better with the Kawaii Box review I’ll be tackling next, so until then remember to continue unpacking those cuteness boxes~!

[fantroll-purgatory]

FIRST: Alternia or Beforus or some type of AU? Alternia, Hiveswap era

Name (preferably include how you came up with it and why): Sofacy Lavern (Sofacy is a cyber-espionage group and Laverna is a goddess of thieves, cheats and the underworld, both because she is a hacker)

Oh I love this, Especially w/ the cyber-espionage bent because Laverna was specifically invoked to help thieves keep their cover. This also makes me maybe want to put a Thieves’ Cant spin on her symbol. 

Age: 7 sweeps

Strife Specibus: glovekind (for the weapon I was thinking a cyberpunk like glove that has a keyboard so she can connect to any device on the go if she has to)

I kind of like the idea of her having like… a technokinetic branch of telekinesis, something more mirco/electrokinetic that she syncs through this glove to allow her to refine her abilities. Good for hacking, can also release a static shock in an emergency situation but that’d fry her system for a hot minute, so it should be used Sparingly. 

Fetch Modus: Yeah I’m really bad at these

You know those Hacking Puzzles in video games that are almost always like this- 

Each of her items gets locked behind one of those and she has to solve it to get the item out.

Blood color: Rust

Symbol and meaning: Armini, sign of the Reconciler

This is definitely good, but I wanna Maaaybe bring in some thieves’ cant inspo when it comes to spriting the symbol on. Maybe. 

Trolltag: crimsonCanker (a canker as in an infection, as a reference to viruses she makes and spreads)

Quirk: u r goin to paY for this lol (Capitalizes Y, uses ‘lol’ and ‘mfw’ frequently and shortens words, all lowercase letters and no punctuation, starts a new row instead of using a period)

Special Abilities (if any): Regular rust abilities, telekinesis and can commune with the dead

Like I said above I like the idea of her kind of having trained and used tech to refine her ability down to being techno/microkinetic, too. Really fine and technological work is a lot easier when you can use your mind powers to do it. 

Lusus: I have no idea I looked for one for a while and I just couldn’t find anything that fit the theme

Hmmm. Maybe a bear? Sofacy comes up in relation to Fancy Bear, so it’d at least be appropriate name-wise. You could probably also go for Chameleon, for the camouflage/espionage angle, but that starts leaning a little voidy. Because of Sollux’s lore worldbuilding about apiculture networking, bees are also associated with Technology and thus doominess. So you could give her a Flightless/Sterile Queen Bee lusus. Her inability to fly would push a doomy feeling because of the metaphorical inability to run and the inability to create new life, which only works narratively since life is doom’s opposite.

Personality: She used to be part of a large anonymous hacking group that taught her everything she knows. They were activists that started with fighting against injustice online but when they moved to fight against Alternia’s oppressive system, starting with the censorship in the mediums of entertainment they all loved, they were seen as a serious threat and were all caught and killed after a slip up. As the only survivor, after watching all of her friends and her lusus die and having her hive destroyed she has become bitter, fearful and fatalistic. She lives in hiding, trying to lay low and has given up serious activism in a mix of nihilism and fear. Her views on Alternia and the spectrum haven’t changed, but it has proven to be too great a foe and has made her jaded. Now she has gone back to shitposting and highlighting people’s ignorance. She is harsh in her call outs, quick to dig up dirt and mock away anyone she sees spewing bad arguments, hypocrisy and lies. Still, she manages to stay as humorous as she can, even though her jokes tend to be either morbid and cynical or just mocking someone. Sofacy is cheeky and smug to hide the fact that, after being burned once, and as much as she wants to speak up again about the serious issues, she is deathly afraid of making a mistake again.

Oh I Love this personality, really strong and solid. It also makes her placement as a Witch of Doom fascinating because it positions her in session in a place where she has to learn to overcome that passive acceptance and fear in order to overcome inevitability, to literally Change the rules and fate itself. 

Interests: The paranormal (ghosts, demons etc.), creepypasta stories and video games (horror games most of all), she also loves scaring people with her prank viruses. If only she enjoyed digging up dirt on people and exposing lies as much as shitpost and memes she’d be a serious threat.

Imagine her in a gossip competition with your Regina George Archetype Troll. 

Title: Witch of Doom

Land: I have no idea

Land of Harrowing and Hacks. A ruined world where everything is crushed underfoot and ever more destruction seems on the horizon. Some how, in some way, the Denizen of this world has hacked into the system and built a world where they always win. Time for Sofacy to change the rules.

Dream Planet: Derse

Design time:

So I’ve done two versions, one with regular Armini and one with the addition of of the “underground entry” symbol into the symbology. 

On the face, I had to add that little lash because Homestuck Style dictates lashes, and I added the eyebags a little more visibly because she’s supposed to be a fearful and traumatized character- she’s gotta look tired. I also did a few proportion edits, but nothing Major. 

Other than that, lots of outline edits for better/more visually appealing contrast!

-CD

[otdderamin]

Analysis Critical Role C2 Ep014 Molly's Backstory Part 6: Disciple of The Moonweaver

This post is part 6 in a 7-part series examining everything we learned about Molly's backstory in Critical Role Campaign 2 Episode 014. They are meant to be read together in sequence, but 9 pages seemed a little long for Tumblr, so I've broken them up into separate posts. You can also find links to this series, as well as further reading, on my Molly Index.

Disciple of The Moonweaver

Building himself as Molly was about more than the practical consideration of not being recognized.

"Can you imagine what it would feel like to not feel anything about anything that had happened to you so far? […] It's very freeing. It's the best thing- It's the thing that happened to me. It's not the best thing that happened to me, it's the thing that happened to me. I found peace in building a new person. The Moonweaver-" (CR C2 Ep014 2:10:36)

It was probably the people of the circus who introduced him to The Moonweaver, a chaotic good goddess of the Trickery domain. "[She] is considered to be the deity of love, protecting the trysts of lovers with shadows of her own making. Those who work in darkness and trickery often ask for her blessing." Her commandments are, "Seize your own destiny by pursuing your passions. Let the shadows protect you from the burning light of fanatical good and the absolute darkness of evil. Walk unbridled and untethered, finding and forging new memories and experiences." (Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting, page 17) To someone starting over from scratch building a new life, these are very appealing commandments, and have probably deeply shaped who he's become.

Molly's had to learn or relearn everything in the last two years. Language seems to have come back fairly quickly, so some of his old mental mapping had to have, too. But even things that came back must have been spotty and needed to be filled in. Which means he's had to actively think through every abstract concept we take for granted because the rest of us learn them through social osmosis. He had to ask himself questions like "Do I like purple? Why do I like purple? Am I a person that likes plaid?" So, he reached ideas around things like gender and absolutely had to think through all of them, individually, how he associates himself with them, and why. (Gender specifically I'll be talking about later in another article. My current thinking is that his demonstrated preferences for colors and patterns tell us a lot about gender identity, too.)

"I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad, and to travel for it too!" (Shakespeare, "As You Like It" act 4, scene 1, line 25) Building a new person became a way of asserting control over his life and seizing his own destiny. Faced with no memories and only vague clues about his former life, he had to choose between picking through the mystery for a sense of self he might never fully relate to, or letting it go entirely. What he did know was nothing he wanted to be associated with. "Whoever that was came to that end. And I want nothing to do with that. Whatever it was, it doesn't feel good when I- the moments when something creeps through, I don't like it. I don't want anything to do with it." (CR C2 Ep014 2:05:05) "Some asshole got buried in the dirt. Fuck him. I am enjoying what I'm doing. I want nothing to do with that. Anything that came before, I was happy to just leave it be." (CR C2 Ep014 2:01:36)

Feeling beholden to a past that you can't be part of and can't connect to is a lot like having a phone number that used to belong to a shady person. You don't have anything to do with them, but other people occasionally bother you with the misapprehension that you're the same. For Molly it was easier to just cut ties, change his number again, and move on. “New identity, who did?” The directive to "Walk unbridled and untethered, finding and forging new memories and experiences" was permission to build a new life wholly his own. He worries, "What if [my past] feels that it- that I owe it something?" (CR C2 Ep014 2:11:36) "I don't want to remember anything, I don't want anybody else's baggage in my head, I don't want anybody else's problems, thoughts, ideas." (CR C2 Ep014 2:09:45) Taliesin said:

“[Molly] doesn't care who Lucian was. […] It doesn't matter if he was a good person or a bad person. It's, 'I'm me now, and I have decided this is what I'm doing.' This was, 'I am made of nothing but decisions that have led me to be this person, and if you think I need to add a bunch of decisions to be more complete, or if a bunch of stuff that happened in my past is more important to who I am than who I am now, that's wrong. That's just- That's fucked up and stupid. I mean, that's madness.' You get to decide who you are, and he has very much decided who he is. And there's this little tangent, and wherever it leads, good or bad, is possibly to someone who- or to a person who's going to change- want to fundamentally change who he is and overwrite a lot of that. That's yeah, no. He wants nothing to do with it." (TM 2018-04-17 0:39:24)

He added later:

"I have friends who travel with the circus, and I have friends who live kind of that lifestyle, and who travel. I just saw a couple of them a few days ago. And there is a joyous freedom to not owing the world anything of yourself. Of just being, just- And it's not even just being responsible only for yourself, but just choosing not to just let yourself get bogged down with a bunch of stuff that doesn't really doesn't matter to you." (TM 2018-04-17 0:41:35)

Molly is an interesting character because he is a synthesis of the philosophical debate around what constitutes personal identity. (Which is far outside the scope of this analysis, but I encourage you to look it up.) It was performers who helped him shape his identity, and that has had a profound effect on how he views the purpose of his "self." The goal of a circus is to lie, impress, entertain, and delight in a way that convinces people to further your survival (give you money). He says, "I like pretending. Pretending's great. Who cares where anybody came from?" (CR C2 Ep014 2:03:26) "I spent two years, before I met you all cajoling people, occasionally ripping them off, occasionally doing a good turn here or there; never trust the truth. Truth is vicious; the truth thinks that you owe it something; none of that. I like my bullshit. It's good, it's happy, it makes other people happy. […] It is exactly who I am!" (CR C2 Ep014 2:11:59) Telling others the semi- to wholly- fictitious story of who we are and what we are comprised of is how all of us interact with other and shape how they see us. Molly just does this very deliberately and without pretense.

Molly's understands that other people deal with their impression of you rather than your impression of you. I elaborated on this in my earlier articles "How Molly uses appearance to assess people" and "How Molly manipulates the way people see him" Keenly aware that he's an outsider, he's shaped his appearance to challenge people. If they have an immediate recoil reaction, even if they cover it after a moment and act cordial, he knows not to trust them and their bullshit. If they take his appearance in stride, he knows they're open to outsiders and might be worth engaging. He also makes his appearance overwhelming so people focus on that and don't actually focus on him or his abilities too closely.

Part 1: Separating Molly and Lucian Part 2: Cree Part 3: The Tomb Takers Part 4: The Ritual Part 5: Molly Awakens Part 6: Disciple of The Moonweaver Part 7: Weird Blood Powers

If you like this transcript, please consider donating your time to Critical Role Transcripts, @CRTranscript on Twitter, to help them provide closed captioning to Critical Role. We’d like to share this wonderful show with as many people as possible, regardless of hearing ability or English language skills.

 Also, consider buying my a coffee (ko-fi.com/otdderamin). I’ve been working on these while struggling to adjust to disability. Donating helps me justify spending time on these projects.

References  

Mercer, M. (2018). Blood Hunter Class Details.  Retrieved from D&D Beyond.

Mercer, M., & Haeck, J. (2017). Tal'Dorei  Campaign Setting. Seattle: Green Ronin Publishing.

Analysis Critical Role C2 Ep014 How Molly manipulates the way people see him

Transcript Critical Role C2 Ep014 0:13:00 Molly’s Backstory 

Transcript Talks Machina 2018-02-20 0:20:50 How Molly uses appearance to assess people

Transcript Talks Machina 2018-04-17 Alpha 0:35:07 Molly’s notion of identity

[dipulb3]

2021 Mercedes-Benz E450 All-Terrain first drive review: Go butch or go home

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2021-mercedes-benz-e450-all-terrain-first-drive-review-go-butch-or-go-home/

2021 Mercedes-Benz E450 All-Terrain first drive review: Go butch or go home

How do you sell a wagon in the US in 2020? Make it look like an SUV. Traditional station wagons continue to fall out of favor with American customers, yet higher-riding crossovers keep on selling like hotcakes. With that in mind: The Mercedes-Benz E-Class wagon is dead; long live the Mercedes-Benz E-Class All-Terrain.

The All-Terrain joins the Mercedes’ US lineup as part of the E-Class’ 2021 model-year update. It’s essentially the outgoing E450 wagon with 2 extra inches of ground clearance, standard air suspension (previously an option), some rugged-looking body cladding and butch new bumper treatments. Overall, the look really works; the All-Terrain is definitely handsome, though I’m not sure if all the cladding works against my tester’s rich shade of Cardinal Red. In any case, this crossover-like updo makes a whole lot of sense for the E-Class, better positioning it to take on other high-riding luxury wagons such as the Audi A6 Allroad and Volvo V90 Cross Country.

2021 Mercedes-Benz E450 All-Terrain is ruggedly handsome

See all photos

You can only get the All-Terrain in E450 4Matic guise in the US, meaning it uses Mercedes’ 3.0-liter turbocharged I6 engine and all-wheel drive. The straight-six engine is the same one you’ll find in a number of Benz’s other products, producing 362 horsepower and 369 pound-feet of torque, in addition to a supplemental 21 hp and 184 lb-ft from the 48-volt EQ-Boost mild-hybrid system.

With its ample low-end torque and smooth-shifting nine-speed automatic transmission, the E-Class All-Terrain is super nice to drive. This wagon pulls away from stoplights with authority, thanks in part to the extra torque boost from the mild-hybrid tech (Mercedes estimates a 0-to-60-mph time of 5.1 seconds). What’s more, EQ-Boost irons out the action of the stop-start system, meaning I’m more likely to leave the fuel-saving function activated as this tech isn’t usually my jam. This helps the portly, 4,350-pound E450 All-Terrain return respectable EPA fuel economy estimates of 22 miles per gallon city, 28 mpg highway and 24 mpg combined.

The All-Terrain is the kind of car you wouldn’t think twice about putting hundreds of miles on in one sitting, knowing you’ll arrive at your destination as relaxed as when you left. The standard adaptive air suspension takes a lot of the credit for that balance and composure, mitigating larger impacts from broken pavement and generally delivering a solid, serene ride. Pro tip, though: Skip the 20-inch wheels you see on this test car. Good as they look, they allow for small initial impacts to be felt through the chassis. Plus, the surprisingly aggressive 245/40 front and 275/35 rear Pirelli P-Zero summer tires kind of go against the whole take-me-anywhere attitude of the All-Terrain. This E450 comes standard with 19-inch wheels and 245/45-series tires at all four corners; that’s definitely the way to go.

Methinks you won’t be doing much off-roading with these 20-inch wheels and P-Zero summer tires.

Michael Shaffer/Mercedes-Benz

On the other hand, throw the All-Terrain into Sport mode and the air suspension hunkers down, the steering adds a bit more weight and those sticky tires offer lots of grip while cornering. In other words, the few folks who might’ve otherwise bought a standard E450 wagon will be happy to know this thing can still hustle when provoked. And if it’s performance you’re after, AMG has you covered.

For what it’s worth, the All-Terrain has Offroad and Offroad Plus driving modes that raise the suspension and reduce throttle sensitivity, but I don’t recommend venturing too far off the beaten path in one of these wagons — especially if you’re rolling on 20s. Much like the new Audi A6 Allroad, this E-Class is an All-Terrain in name and appearance far more than in ability. Have a dirt road on the way to your campsite? Great, have fun. Want to hang with the Jeeps on the trails? Break into Mercedes’ headquarters and steal the E-Class 4×4 Squared instead.

Also like Audi’s new Allroad, the E-Class All-Terrain is an absolute tech powerhouse. On the driver-assistance front, the E450 is available with full-speed adaptive cruise control with stop-and-go capabilities, active steering assist, lane-change assist, traffic sign recognition, blind-spot monitoring, lane-keeping tech and Mercedes’ new Exit Warning function, which will alert you if an object is approaching when you’re parallel parked and about to open your door. (Cyclists will thank you.) The only bad news is that none of this safety gear is standard, so be sure to add the $1,950 Driver Assistance Package.

The All-Terrain’s cabin is mostly flawless, and all 2021 E-Class models now use Mercedes’ MBUX infotainment tech.

Michael Shaffer/Mercedes-Benz

The E-Class upgrades to Mercedes’ latest MBUX infotainment tech. A pair of 12.3-inch screens span two-thirds of the dashboard, the left display acting as a digital instrument cluster, the right one serving as the main multimedia interface. Like MBUX’s integration in other Mercedes-Benz models, you can operate the software via controllers on the steering wheel, a touchpad on the center console, voice commands — “Hey, Mercedes, I’m cold” — or simply by touching the screen. I’m all about the latter, especially with the system’s quick responses to inputs. Also, you should totally spring for the augmented reality navigation overlays ($350) because they make finding destinations a cinch.

Aside from the tech update, the E-Class’ interior carries over largely unchanged, which is fine by me. This is an incredibly comfortable and stylish cabin, with nice details like open-pore wood, real metal finishes and a gazillion different ambient light choices. Front and rear passengers have lots of room to stretch out, and there’s 35 cubic feet of cargo space behind the back seats. Fold ’em down and you’ve got 64 cubes at your disposal.

There’s just one itty-bitty-teensy-tiny problem with the new E-Class’ interior, and it isn’t specific to the All-Terrain: the steering wheel. For some weird reason, Mercedes removed the thumbpad controllers for the infotainment system as well as the physical buttons and scroll wheels for the volume and menu controls. Instead, there are little capacitive-touch sensors which take getting used to. The four-way swipe pads for the screens aren’t so bad, but the slider bar for the volume is infuriating. I inevitably always end up going too far up or too far down, or I press too hard and mute the whole thing. I’m not sure why Mercedes opted to fix what wasn’t broken.

Long live the longroof.

Michael Shaffer/Mercedes-Benz

But like I said, that’s a minor complaint in an otherwise flawless cabin, one that can be optioned to the gills with amenities like massaging seats, wireless phone charging, heated armrests and lots of different color and trim combinations. There’s even a $1,100 Acoustic Comfort Package on the options roster, which offers increased cabin insulation and special acoustic glass. If silence is your definition of luxury, then this is a must-have add-on.

The 2021 E450 All-Terrain costs $68,650 to start, including $1,050 for destination. Load one up like the car you see here and you’re looking at $84,790. That’s a bunch of money, but it falls in line with Audi A6 Allroad pricing. The Volvo V90 Cross Country is the most affordable of the bunch, however, and it offers a lot more ground clearance. Plus, I think the Swede is the best-looking wagon of the bunch.

Really, though, it doesn’t totally matter if the All-Terrain can out-Allroad an Audi. What matters is that it makes the E-Class wagon more appealing to US shoppers. If these off-road duds even manage to convince a few people to pass up a GLE-Class SUV in favor of longroof life, that helps ensure a brighter future for all Mercedes-Benz wagons — the holy-grail AMG E63 included. The new E-Class All-Terrain is no better or worse a wagon than the old E450. But if some added cladding and an air suspension is what it takes to move these in the States, then I’m all in favor of a little off-road cosplay.

[haught0pocket]

Fic Writers Week - Day 4

The Devil’s In The Details- Highlight small details you loved in the fics you’ve read or written.

Okay, this is really tricky because I have to resist the urge to write pages and pages about @piratekane , @sensitive-pigeon , and @iamthegaysmurf .

Ah. I’ll write them anyway.

Also, I’m a day late because ... well, if you click “keep reading” you’ll see. I just had a lot to say.

This will be long, so I’m just giving it the chop right here.

Reader:

HEY. GUESS WHAT. We’re talking about i don’t mind you comin’ here again! (You will have to physically remove me from my computer to stop me from talking about this. So.)

There is no mentioning details without mentioning @piratekane , and the amount of work and dedication that is put into the incredible 80′s Mixtape AU. I could write an essay on the details, the attention to them, how accurate and good they are. But I’ll choose one from the latest installment (which I’ll never be over)

Waverly stands with her hands on her hips. “If you didn’t want to come on an adventure, you could have-” “I do!” Nicole insists. She squats down, just barely avoiding a moss-covered rock. “Which way are we going?” She peers at the map. Waverly drew it on a piece of large construction paper. She probably used the crayons Wynonna got her for her birthday. Everything is in shades of green: the trees and the leaves and even the lake. There’s a crooked brown line that runs from the bottom lefthand corner of the map, up and across the page in zigzag lines that makes Nicole twist her head back and forth as she tries to follow its winding path. It eventually ends at a large red ‘x’ over a few black circles in the middle of the green-blue lake. “We’re going to cut through the woods,” Waverly says proudly, jabbing her finger at the brown zigzag. “I even wrote when we’re taking snack breaks.”

Like. Where do I start? The construction paper Waverly used because - hey - she’s 9. All the shades of green because Waverly would do that, to be as accurate as possible on her little map. The fact that the crayons came from Wynonna (because this fic is from the POV of little Nicole, and little Nicole would note these things! a;lksfjjfgiuhiaj;iasejf!! [Sorry. Excited key smash]). Waverly writing down when they take snack breaks.

The details in the setting, the character behaviors, the items they carry around with them, they’re all just outstanding. Mindblowing. They immerse you, %1000, into this world. This is so much more than a story because of these details. So, so much more.

Without details, a story doesn’t really exist. This couldn’t be truer for 180, by @sensitive-pigeon . I don’t know if there’s anyone in the Wynonna Earp (fic reading) fandom that hasn’t read this. It’s so universally appealing.

Once again it’s incredibly difficult to choose an example of a detail I love. Because I love. Love. LOVE. all of them. Every single one. They are all pitch perfect and so full of purpose. Here’s a delightful one that is particularly fantastic (ch 2):

@ssssspaggeti2: #alphabase is anyone seeing this [photo attached] I think shes dead. its been six hours. Check raw stream nasa.gov LivingSpace2 cause the public is off at 4am. No sound on raw =/ @StetsonBot: houston’s not said anything so she’s probably sleeping after work, nbd @ssssspaggeti2: @MarsAlphaBase @NASA @POTUS houston we got a sleeper... @BotanyisBest: wow what a surprise!! 14:35 on Mars too. whats that like 2pm??? @CBSNews: @ssssspaggeti2, do you mind if we use your photo?@BotanyisBest: hahah rip @EarthToWaverly please draw on her

Pigeon created twitter personalities. And it’s not just that she created these twitter personas. Each one has a specific voice, a specific purpose. Excuse me while my brain explodes.

Oh no but wait there’s more. All of this? All of Alpha Base, the science behind this - it works. IT. WORKS. Not only is Pigeon a brilliant author, she’s an actual genius.

I’ll tell you right now, if I don’t stop here, I won’t stop.

I might be slightly obsessed with @iamthegaysmurf ‘s You’re Going To Find Your Way Back Home. (read: very obsessed) Haven’t read it? K. Go Read. Seriously, right now. Stop what you are doing, go read, then come back (if you so wish).

...... Did you read? 

That was pretty great, right?

Smurf dug into a ridiculous amount of historical legends, myths, lore, etc, specifically for this Halloween fic. And then carefully adjusted them to make, big, incredible story. It makes it so intense and believable - the dedication and time that was put into researching all these factors she put in. Everything flows seamlessly, it’s Emily Andras level dedication to myths and lore and telling those stories. (Did you guys know that Emily is a total nerd for all things legend/myth/lore? This was the question I asked her on the reddit ama and she confirmed - yes, she is.)

Here’s a passage that is just ... whoa. You go to the movies for the visuals of it. But you read to get these kinds of descriptions (ch 7):

She can feel the jagged shards of bone littering the ground digging into her back and shoulders, ripping her flannel – and her skin – in places.  Feel the razor-sharp claws tearing at her ribs and throat.

She can smell the putrescence on its breath, hot and fetid in her face.  Smell the sour tang of its unwashed body, a century and a half of dirt and sweat and sulfur permeating its desiccated, leathery skin.

She can see its yellow eyes inches from her own.  See them burning not with the color of the sun or spring flowers or the eggs that Waverly makes them for breakfast on their lazy Sundays, but with that of infernal hellfire.

She can taste the copper in her mouth where one of her teeth sliced into her tongue with the impact.  Taste it mixing with the dust from the air and the clay from the ground and the ash from the aura that engulfs the creature, the flavor of it causing bile to rise in the back of her throat.

I mean. I think that speaks for itself. I can’t add anything to that. It’d just be air. It’s stunning.

Writer

Well, this was difficult. After all of that??

But here is a bit in You’re A Beautiful Thing that I am fond of:

She ran her fingers through those wonderful locks. It felt like silk. Like actual, real silk. The fact sort of confused her for a moment. No hair could truly be that soft. But it was. It really was.

Then a thought hit her.

Hands…

She laid the baby gently down in her lap and unwrapped the blanket, releasing the bundled up arms. Tears rolled down her face, and she sobbed, openly.

Waverly had been sitting quietly, letting the new mother wonder over her daughter. But at the sound of her sister crying, she went to sit next to her on the bed. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Wynonna wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I was so scared of her hands.” She gazed in earnest into Waverly’s face. “But they’re so beautiful. Look at ‘em!” She took a little hand, and it immediately wrapped around her finger. “Oh my god,” now she whispered, staring once again at her daughter, awestruck.

Wynonna wondering at her new baby was always something I wanted to see, from the moment we found out Wynonna was pregnant. Because new babies are magical. So I just wrote it. (This was written before the finale)

And now I need to go do day 5! hahah

[lookatthedawn]

While in Bangkok

Breakfast at the hotel is a very formal affair.  The dining room is big and well decorated and there is a plentiful buffet.  The headwaiter speaks good English and is quite solicitous, although a bit intimidating.  He wants to make sure that everything runs smoothly and that's good, but I need a little more space.  A table at the corner is occupied by a sour-looking French couple.  At another table sits a group of Asian ladies who could be Thai or from another country nearby.  They're noisy and demanding, but I'm grateful to them as they hijack the headwaiter's attention.  My usual beverage of choice is tea, but I want to try the Thai coffee.  I find it a lot like the Vietnamese; extremely strong and sweet.  Also, very small.  After it's gone, I'm still thirsty, so I have a big cup of tea. Many people in Thailand speak English, some quite well.  On the way to the Grand Palace, I get directions from an Englishman with lovely blue eyes, then a couple of locals are happy to direct me to the train station. From the station, I take a tuk-tuk whose driver convinces me that the best way to see the city is by boat.  He shows me the route on the map which covers a great part of what I want to see.  He can't tell me the price of the boat tour but his own fare is quite low.  I like the tuk-tuk as it offers an affordable way to see the city.  As we arrive at the pier, I'm surprised that there's no line and no one waiting to go on a tour. 

The tuk-tuk driver directs me to a woman sitting at a table, who will make a special price for me, which is two thousand Baht.  I think I misheard, so I ask how much again.  Two thousand Baht, she repeats.  I tell her I don't have that kind of money and start to walk away.  She lowers the fare to 1800, I tell her no, thank you.  Sixteen hundred, she says, is her best offer.  The driver is still around, trying to convince me as well, but I'm already on my way out.  He offers to take me wherever I want to go, but I decline.

I want to see a Buddhist temple we passed by, but in Bangkok, you find Buddhist temples and Seven-Eleven stores in every corner.  I stop at one of these temples for a bit of peace and quiet away from the heat.  It is white with a red and gold roof decorated with precious stones in the front.  Everything is clean, neat and peaceful.  Dozens of statues of the Buddha sit behind glass windows facing a patio.  At a table on the right side of the temple, two monks sit and talk.  I greet them and they reply amiably but as I don't speak Thai and they speak precious little English, so we communicate with smiles and nods.  I usually feel quite comfortable around Buddhist monks.  Something about their lifestyle appeals to me.  I have a thousand questions for these two, but for now, the language barrier means my questions will remain unanswered.  

After a while, I exit the temple and take a taxi to the Grand Palace.  In Bangkok, the taxis have the most wonderful shade of pink, something between magenta and fuschia, and drivers drive on the left side of the road. It's a busy Saturday afternoon and the area around the King's Palace is blocked.  The driver, who speaks English with ease, makes light conversation.  He asks where I am from and we talk about soccer a little bit, then he speaks of his country; he has a few complaints, mostly about the cost of living, but overall he is quite proud of his homeland and the new king.  He drives me as close as he can to the Palace and I jump out.  I see men and women dressed in black going toward the palace and feel inadequate in my jeans and red, sleeveless tunic.  I think of the long-sleeved shirt in my bag, in case I have to change into something more somber.   There is a narrow passage leading to the palace area where security is tight.  They check my ID and my bag before letting me in.  There are a few people, tourists like me, wearing regular clothes, but most visitors are in groups, wearing black and walking purposefully.  The marine, the army, and the navy are massively represented.  A sign at the palace's gate says that the King's Palace will close earlier, because of the death of the king.  I bemoan my timing as I connect the dots of the sights around me; the people in black, the many official cars, the soldiers, the monks and all the signs praising the king.  The mood is both festive and somber, as the tribute to a well-lived life.  I don't know much about the king, but I suspect he was quite well liked.  

I leave the area near the palace and find a pier with shops around.  I'm looking for a fridge magnet from Thailand.  On January, when my son Marcelo went to Europe, he had the bright idea of collecting magnets from every country visited.  He proudly displays his collection on our fridge and I have decided to do the same.  Thailand will be my first if I can find one.  I walk around the shops and find shoes, hats, and t-shirts, but no magnets.  On this pier, there is a line to get in the boats.  The price for the boat tour is around six hundred.  Four hundred and change before 4 p.m., but this is 4:10.  It strikes me as odd that prices for the same tour -- even though the first was individual and this is in a group -- can go from 2K to 600 hundred Baht.  I watch the long line of people getting into boats as I try to make up my mind whether to buy the ticket or not.  In the meantime, I sit in the shade and rest, while watching the people and the breathtaking view of the city.   I decide not to take the tour.  I walk out of the pier and back in the streets.  There's food for sale everywhere.  Fruits, juices, smoothies.  Small shops, doors that are no more than two meters wide, selling every kind of food and clothing. No magnets, though. I come to another pier, which looks like a well-kept plaza, pleasant and tourist-friendly.  This is the third pier I visit and it offers quite a contrast to the other two.  The first one was poorly maintained and smelled strongly of fish.  The second and busiest catered to tourists but was disorganized and the staff was not very friendly. The pier where I now stand is elegant, with a restaurant overlooking the Chao Phraya River, big pots of flowers, and polite people.  I imagine the price of the tour to be exceedingly high.  When I ask, I think I misheard.  "Forty Baht."  "Excuse me? How much did you say?"  The smiling clerk pushes a table with different prices.  For the ride I want is, indeed, forty Baht.  "The next one leaves in twenty minutes," he adds in clear English.  I buy the ticket and wait for the boat to arrive. This is a hop-on-hop-off boat, for which you pay for the whole day or buy a one-way ticket like I did.  The ride offers a chance to see much of Bangkok for little time and money.  It is not only for tourists but a safe and pleasant type of transportation for Bangkokians commuting from work, school or just going out shopping.  I try capturing the moment with my phone camera, but I can never catch the breeze, the sounds and smells as the boat glides over the Chao Phraya River.  I'm aware that this is a singular moment, one I'll remember many times when I think of my time in Southeast Asia.  Yes, I was there, I shall say, and it was worth it! I hop off at Yannawa and walk toward Silom.  The streets are busy with traffic, vendors, and buyers.  I wonder if other cities in the country are as busy as Bangkok or if the whole country conglomerates here.  I make a mental note to research.  That is what visiting a different country does; it ignites the mind and incites our curiosity.  Who is the minority in this country?  Who do they blame when things go wrong?  Who is the scapegoat? What are their problems?   What I see is a pretty homogenous people, going about their business boisterously but peacefully.  I search my brain for news I might have heard from Thailand.  Was there any terrorist attack on its soil?  Earthquake? I find nothing.  The place reminds me of movies with Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker, where a lot is happening right under the surface, but the regular man and woman don't have a clue about it.  Is that the case here?  "Be careful, his bowtie is really a camera."

In Silom I enter Robinson Department Store, which is a chain of megastores, sometimes standing alone, other times in a shopping center.  This one is in a shopping center, which includes a supermarket, cafes, clothing stores, etc.  I spend much time in this mall, looking at products and prices, then sitting at a cafe to rest for a while.  

I don't know what I thought about Bangkok, but I definitely didn't think it was so large, busy and well organized as it is.  I see a fair number of tourists and Westerns living here.  Something like 8 million people live in Bangkok.  And yet, traffic flows without conflicts.  Unlike Hanoi, drivers don't honk as much and the people are polite and helpful.  I find quaint little shops in picturesque villages.  Art galleries, cafes and restaurants look delightful in the late afternoon's glow.   I stop at Mama Mia Bangkok, a busy diner on a side street where I'm served the richest vegetable soup I ever tasted.  The restaurant has tables on both sides of the narrow street, which the waiters cross constantly while carrying trays with hot dishes and cold drinks.  There are more tourists eating here than there are Thai customers.  While waiting for my soup, I pull out my laptop.  The humdrum in the background is perfect for writing.  In the meantime, night falls over the city.

After searching in a number of stores I finally find magnets at a stand of a street vendor.  It's the first one I see and it's dirt cheap.  As soon as buy it, however, they appear everywhere.  I explore the city on foot, amazed by Bangkok's modern and creative architecture.  It's hot and humid, but there's a constant breeze that makes walking around a pleasure. At a bridge over the train station in Silon, a girl wearing a costume poses for a photo shoot. She's not the only one.  In fact, the place seems to be quite popular with photographers.  Most people on the streets are in their twenties, usually with a group of friends, having a good time.  If they're in a group, they keep to themselves but if they're alone they politely greet me.  There are many Westerns around, and most of them look like well-adapted residents, not tourists.  

If you ever go to Bangkok, pay close attention to which airport you're arriving and departing. I arrived at Suvarnabhumi Airport, but I will be leaving from Don Mueang International. This airport is smaller and the staff is quite friendly.  As I am flying first thing in the morning, I spend part of the night in the airport, and I'm far from the only one.  There are people sleeping everywhere.   At a busy charging station, I meet and befriend Carl, Kazild, Kevin, and Cynthia.  Each of us is from a different part of the world, traveling to another, completely different place.  At that airport, what unites us is that we need to charge our phones.  Carl and Kazild are best friends originally from the Philippines but raised in Hawaii.  They're on their way to Hanoi, Vietnam.  Kevin is from Pennsylvania and he's flying back home, and Cynthia, who is from Argentina, has just arrived from Myanmar and is flying to Japan.  All of them have been around and have interesting tales to tell.  Just by looking into their eyes you can see a world of places and people, of which they're happy to share, though no narrative can fully bring to others the intensity of the experience itself.  After talking of places, people and how to find the best lodgings, we settle on politics, and I find that, though our backgrounds are quite diverse, our views are similar. Soon it's time for Kevin to board his plane.  One by one we go our own ways, but we promise to stay in touch.  As I depart from them I wonder about their expectations and thoughts toward their destination.  It took courage for each of them to embark on this adventure and I'm impressed -- and jealous -- of their experiences.  I wish them all the best.   My batteries are fully charged and it's time for me to go too.  I stop at the exchange booth and turn baht into riel, then eat my last guava before heading to my gate.   Goodbye, friends! Goodbye, Thailand!

[starboyjxmin]

Equinox (Hoseok x Reader) Pt. 1

Synopsis: What happens when you decide to befriend the boy who lived under the window of your loft? What happens when it turns out to be far more of a bad thing than a good thing or like he likes to call it, “A charity case”? 

(A.N.: This is written in first person which is your pov, I hope you guys like it! Also, this fic was written with POC in mind, mostly Hispanic, but I did put in that the OC is Mexican but feel free to disregard this or change it to your ethnicity :) 

There was always a boy outside my apartment complex. A boy that was homeless. Everyone knew who he was. The residences by of the apartments would call him Freak. Freak was actually a man who was around the age of 20 or 23.

I was 20. I had grown up in a life of luxury and wealth. I never knew what hunger was nor thirst. I never knew about not being spoiled. I didn't ever know what rocks or dirt were nor had I ever seen that. So when I became pregnant at 19, close to my 20th birthday, my parents had decided to send me to our old apartment unit in London. Right next door to the castle. My parents were neither mad or glad about my pregnancy.

They just never cared.

It was I that wanted to live away from the luxury. I wanted my child to see what I couldn't see. And this is where Freak comes in. From outside my window I could see the beauty in London. But if I looked down, I saw Freak digging through trash cans. The tenants would talk about him as if he were not even human.

"Oh that Freak! He is just so ugly and awful! I don't understand why the manager has not called the police yet." Her accent was so beautiful to me, Mrs. Lye, that I was thinking she was discussing how a rose was exquisitely mesmerizing.

"The manager has! Indeed many times! However he always comes back that good for nothing!!" Her husband said grimly.

Most of our apartment meetings were like this. The discussion of Freak. Of course my thoughts on him would not be imbued by theirs.

"Yesterday he tried to talk to my son!" Her (the lady across my apartment named Ms. Dudley) gesticulations were awful as she shook her furiously as well enough to make me worry that her tiny head would be undone from her huge body. Her shrill voice was enough to give me a migraine.

"I don't really see how he is making a caprice in our regimen." They all groaned at my response.

"How does he even effect you? You have the largest apartment!" Mr. Polk exclaimed as he had face palmed himself.

"And the fanciest might I add," added another man in the back. There were murmurs of approval to this.

"He is not going to be good enough to even change and even if he did change, there would be no efficacy to it." Mrs. Lye growled at my direction.

"Are you suggesting an epoch? With Freak?!" They laughed.

"Why not?" I looked at them daring them to tell me otherwise. The lady who complained about how Freak (Ms. Dudley) had tried to talk to her son, looked at me seriously.

"Sometimes, Mexicans can not always do the difficult jobs done because there are some that are impossible." A cold silence fell over the room.

"What are you implying with that?" I replied coolly.

"People, we know that Freak is a hazard to our community and everyone living here. We can not kill him for that would be inhuman to do-"

"But he should not even be considered human!" I winced at the shrill voice again. The manager continued as if he was never cut off.

"He hasn't hurt anyone!"I cried.

"Yet." Mr. Lye states calmly. "Not... Yet."

I rolled my eyes. There was no solution to that meeting. I looked down from my window brushing the memory. There stood Freak. His filthy grey, ripped clothes and his excessive long hair. His dirty grey face looked dead. Yet there he stood as the children of the apartments threw rocks at him.

And Freak had never ran or threw or said anything to the kids. The children were warned by their parents to stay away from Freak. There were rumors that he was a murder, a rapist. A monster lusting for blood. The fact that his face was covered with the hanging dirty hair of his with almost dreadlocks of dirt. That his smile was yellow, almost grey as well as his face. He smelled of onions. But no matter how badly he would be beaten by the teenagers of the complex, he never fought back.

No matter how hurtful the words that the tenants would hurl at him, he would not talk back but in a sweet, husk like voice he would say thank you. Children would be mean but he never did anything back.

He only wanted to talk. To be given help. He didn't ask for money either. He couldn't get a job because of his looks of hideousness. No one wanted him to even breathe. I didn't understand why the hatred towards him...

I hastily ran out of the meeting room, burying enraged. My shaking hands were soon latched onto the door knob, but my hunger seemed to suddenly make itself known.

I walked to the kitchen. London, as I would come here during winter, was freezing hell. It was two months away until December. I was 3 months pregnant and it didn't even hint to my stomach that I was. I would spend Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas as well as New Years alone. My phone rang.

"Hello, you have reached (Y/N), how may I help you?" I answered simply bored as I opened the fridge. Hot pockets were the first item in sight.

"Hi, I am from the Homeless Help Society. How are you today Miss (Y/N)?"

"Baby wants Hot Pockets," I muttered as I grabbed 5 in my hands, struggling as I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder. "Hot Pockets it is." I walked to the counter.

"I'm sorry. I did not catch that ma'am." The man's voice was purely confused.

"I'm sorry. I am just talking to myself. Um, I'm good thank you for asking. How are you?" The male voice chuckled from the other side of the line.

"I'm great thank you as well for asking. I am conducting a survey on homeless people." Duh, I thought as I popped the hot pocket without the wrapper into the microwave. "And I want to know if you can give me a few minutes of your time for this."

"Of course." I began to rip the clear wrapper of another frozen hot pocket.

"Do you know of a specific homeless?" Freak.

"Yes." I was tapping my fingers against the counting impatiently as the hot pocket slowly spun in the microwave teasing me. 1 more minute to go.

"Do you talk to him?" I paused.

"No." 43 seconds to go.

"Have you ever given them money?" 39.

"No, he never asks for money either way." 33.

"Have you thought of giving him help?" 29. I paused again...

"No." 17.

"Would you do it now if I kindly asked you to?" Again, silence. 14, 13, 12, 11.

"I'm pregnant." I blurted out, mind absently, 8.

"Congratulations Mrs. (Y/N)." 5.

"Yes, I will help him." 3.

"Thank you." 2.

"There," 1. The microwave was beeping a lot now. "Is nothing to thank me for." I proceeded to open the microwave and take out the steaming hot pocket.

"Thank you for your time. Goodbye Mrs. (Y/N)." The line went silent. I locked my screen and placed my phone next to the hot pocket. God, what did I get myself into? I breathed slowly as I gripped the counter. That wasn't actually a survey as I began to look absently at my phone and then to my microwaved food. My hot pocket didn't seem as appealing anymore. There were many thoughts rushing through my mind.

Before I could process my situation, my feet had taken me to the window of the living room where I had seen Freak under. I placed my fingertips on the glass. Instead of a wall for the north side of my apartment, it was just a glass wall. A window, as I preferred to call it. I looked down. Sure enough there was Freak. This time he was just sitting on the green floor. It seemed as if he was picking flowers that were next to him. To anyone else they would have seen him as a decaying virus trying to impregnate the beautiful land with dementia of ugliness. However to me, he seemed like lost child. I knew he wasn't a child but it's what the sudden innocent moment held. I had said I would help him. Freak was now tying the flowers together.

There was no turning back now. I went to my room and put on my coat. Again, I walked over to the window. Freak was shivering as he placed the flower crown he made on the floor.

"Freak.." I went to my door and left my apartment. Ms. Dudley's door (she was my front door neighbor) was open all the way. I brushed off the fact it was open to begin with. I didn't run but I walked as fast as I could. Sure enough there was Freak in the cold, laying on the grass with the flower crown on his fingertips. My breathes were shallow and visible in the air. The small puffs of air exited my lungs danced around, taunting me to get closer to Freak. My eyes were now closed as I let my mind wander with the cold air.

"May I help you?" I opened an eye. Freak had sat up and was looking right at me. It surprised me how deep and careful his voice was. However, the accent almost went unrecognized by me.

"I-I would l-l-like you to c-come over." It was difficult to see his eyes what if he didn't have eyes? His rule hair covered most of his face. How silly of me to think such things.

"Why?" I couldn't read him.

"B-because it's co-cold." Freak looked down at his ripped hands.

"But I'm dirty. I shouldn't come inside."

"I don't see why t-t-that matters." I said in a quiet voice. He continued to look down.

"I can't," I groaned in response to his remark.

"Please?" I was getting impatient.

"Miss, I really-"

"Don't tell me you appreciate it when you won't come." My hand flew to my mouth. How rude of me!

"I could be dangerous." He had disregarded my rudeness as if it was nothing.

"Please." I stepped forward. His head was up now.

"I-"

"I'm pregnant." Kill me. Why did I say that?!

Freak didn't say anything to me. He looked to the side.

"Don't pull that on me."

"Please."

"You are a stubborn child." He growled and stood up. The flower crown was in his now fisted hand.

"Please."

"Fine." He looked like a giant. He came over to me. I looked up. Well he wasn't that tall. Okay he was.

"What's your name?" I said as I began to walk with him to the apartments.

"Freak." It was extremely difficult to keep up with his monster steps.

"Your real name." He slowed down to keep us aligned and I was grateful that I wasn't half running stupidly by his side.

"What's yours?" A little boy came out running from the glass doors of the entrance of the complex.

"I asked you a question first." Roger, the butler of the apartments, held the door open for me as he tipped his hat. As soon as Freak entered alongside me, Roger quickly jumped in front of him.

"Excuse me, I will politely ask you to please not-"

"Hey, it's okay Roger." Roger cocked his head, his pudgy face filled with sudden curiosity. "He's with me." My voice was soft towards the end of my statement.

This caused Roger to give me a twisted smile that seemed to hold pain behind it. He turned to Freak, tipped his hat.

"I'm so sorry Sir, won't happen again." The enormous disgust in his voice was shamelessly brought out. He did not try to mask it, not like how he masked his obvious repulse at my statement.

Freak simply nodded once and walked behind me. Continuous dirty looks were thrown at him while confused eyes searched my face for any sign of slight terror.

"My floor is 4," I clicked the elevator button. "We are going to get you something to eat, a warm shower, and then any clothes that I have for you. Afterwards, we will go down to get you more clothes." The doors opened. "Then you need to sleep." I stepped in. Freak stepped in behind you and moved to the opposite extreme of where I was standing, as far away as he could.

"How can you be fine with me?" Freak seemed as if he were slowly suffocating by the minutes as the elevator passed the first floor.

I smiled.

"You are a nice person, Freak. But may I also know your real name?"

"I don't believe it would be practicable." I gently scoffed at his response, staring at the small lit circles that contained the number of floors. You were now on the third.

"I believe it is. And also quite necessary." It then became quiet between us. The only audible sound was of the elevator making its subtle hums. After a few seconds, the elevator made a chirpy ding sound, signal we were on my floor.

We stepped off, Freak following behind me at what he believed was a safe distance. The pitter-patter of my flats rang off the tile of the floor and echoed off the soft cream walls. I quickly placed my key into the deadbolt, unlocking my door.

"Am I allowed in your home?"

"Of course," I stepped in. "Always."

I turned to the boy, he resembled youth given to his almost childlike face although it was a bit dirty.

"Thank you." He carefully stepped into my home.

"Would you like anything in specific to eat?" I was now wandering into the pale, illuminated kitchen which still had the microwave slightly opened. After mentally cursing myself for not being responsible, my mind began to think of Fettuccine Chicken for dinner.

"I would rather much wash up to avoid violating your home with my filth." Freak's gravel voice traveled through the walls.

"Don't think such a thing but sure, hold up." I was sure that there was clothes for him here. My boy- ex boyfriend had come to visit at the beginning of my pregnancy and had left part of his luggage in my room. How convenient.

I quickly jogged my way to my room, reached under the bed, and pulled out the black trash bag that contained that dickface's clothes. Sure enough, he had left complete outfits, underwear included.

"Thank you universe." The quiet words slipped out as I stood up with the rather heavy bag. It was far much bigger than I had remembered. But I was pretty angry when I packed all this away.

Freak was standing on the doormat of the entrance of the apartment.

"Thanks." He said idly as I held out the bag. Freak grabbed it, careful of not making direct contact with my hand.

"Bathroom is over here." I was already starting to walk but he quickly interjected.

"Just give me directions, I'll find it myself." His tone was a bit icy but I brushed it off.

"Er-sure. Down the hall, the fourth door on the left side." He was already walking past me.

"Thanks."

"Welcome." I quickly made my way to the kitchen.

By the time the pasta was done and I had served it in plates along with some flutes filled with champagne, Freak had barley come out.

"Oh, you're just in time!" My back was to him, but I could feel his presence behind me. I was busy fixing the forks in place according to the direction of the napkins. "I really hope you like my cooking, it isn't exactly Gordon Ramsey cooking but yeah!" I turned.

_______________ (A.N. I wrote this a year ago exactly but with Harry Styles in mind, however, I can never fully find good BTS fanfics in Wattpad when there's many great Hazza fanfics. I'm not a great writer but if you want something done good, do it yourself right? Also, I just decided to put it up on Tumblr.)

[besthomepacker]

How to Keep Your Wooden Furniture as New One

We all like furniture which specially provides plenty of space. But as you know, cleaning the furniture, especially for home furniture, can be very difficult. Everything that happens in our home or office requires proper maintenance and cleanliness. If you do not clean the furniture properly, sooner or later it will lose its attraction. Fortunately, there are a lot of smart ways to keep wooden furniture clean and as new one. We will discuss this in today's article. We talk about all those things that you should know about keeping wooden furniture clean and polished.

Wood represents our country's traditions and culture. Later, other materials were used in the furniture industry to clean it easily or easily, but wood furniture still dominates others. This is not only because of tradition but also because the wood gives a unique refinement to the whole house. As we all know that wooden furniture is more expensive than other types of furniture.

Despite the stability of the furniture, if it is not kept clean and shiny, then it quickly loses its shine through the accumulation of dirt, dust, oil etc. Now you can use the same cleaning techniques or components for each material. Cannot be adjusted like a steel surface and cannot be suitable for wood surfaces as well. So you have to know which wood surface is the best. Today I will give you some important tips on how to keep your wooden furniture as new one. These tips not only help to decorate your furniture, but they also save it from loss and increase its life.

The beauty of wood furniture is mainly contained in its fabric, dull or shiny. However, over time, beauty gradually fades away if not regularly cleaned. Wood texture is mainly influenced by dust, dirt, and signs of Greece. Therefore, proper care of your wooden furniture is necessary to increase life and maintain quality. One week's dusts are best, but if you are busy, clean it at least once or twice a month. Polishing is also important if you want your furniture to look fresh for a long time, and then make it once a year, and maintain the beauty of your wooden furniture.

However, all wooden surfaces cannot be polished. You need to know what kind of wood you have before thinking about polishing. But do not worry, because I will discuss everything in detail. After reading the article, you have a clear idea about how to easily store your wooden furniture.

Wooden furniture has Indian heritage and I am sure all of us want to protect it. I'm sure everyone wants to know how.  Packers and Movers Wakad are one of the trusted packaging and moving company will take care of your furniture while transporting among various cities.

 Tips to keep your wooden furniture as new one

Before I went to my new home, I completed an internship. Of course, my house is full of wooden furniture and I take care of everything and that's why I always look for a new one.

Dust, cleaning, and polishing are easy ways to store wooden furniture, but you have to know the techniques to correct it. These tips will help you to keep your wooden furniture as new one.

The following is a list of the most important tips that you can use to keep your wooden furniture as new one and increase its lifespan.

Basic cleaning agent

Before cleaning any furniture, make sure you have all the basic cleaning products available. Take out the vacuum and bucket. Select a cube to capture at least one gallon of water. After that, you should also have soft, clean clothes, which should not be used with other cleaners because they can affect the quality of your wooden furniture. Using microfiber cloth is best.

The reason for what I have said is that things are being done to clean things so that you can do the work fast. If you need to find cleaning products during the cleaning process, it stops concentration and delays the work unnecessarily. When terminating the important cleaning agent, the cleaning process of wood furniture remains incomplete. Therefore, it is best to arrange all cleaning products before starting cleaning.

Start with a base powder

First, take a clean, dry cloth and moisten it with water. Carefully clean wooden furniture this moisture helps the dust particles in the dock and does not allow them to fly in different directions. After some time, remove dust with vacuum cleaners and brushes from wooden surfaces. Clear dust shapes and even small spaces however, remember that do not use the attached file in the corner fill, because it can cause many scratches.

Use vacuum cleaners to remove dust from wooden furniture cushions and pillows, as it does not have any meaning to soak some cleansed wooden furniture with some dirt.

You can spray the grains because the years of work on the surface of your timber make a specific pattern. Packers and Movers Wakad will look after your every household items and office goods. We assure you the safety of the products with 100% guaranteed.

Clean with vinegar water solution.

If your wooden furniture is so dirty, then use vinegar and water to clean it. Add few of the drops of vinegar in half gallon hot water. If you cover a large area of wood you can increase the hold. Then put this solution in the spray bottle, spray or use a cloth to clean the surface of the wood.

Be sure to blow the cloth properly on the wood, because the water can damage the wood before use. Continue to rub the cloth in a circular motion.

Remove moisture

This is one of the important tip that never allow the moisture to be on your wooden furniture. As soon as you find any moisture, remove it from the surface. If the water gets inside wooden surface then it will shorten the life of your furniture.

At the end of the furniture cleaning process, you have to find a final coating to remove the remaining moisture from the surface.

Use a dry cloth to rubbing the surfaces again and shining in a circle. Unless you have not ensured that you can easily remove moisture and dry or nearly dry wood surfaces, do not stop working.

Polish wooden furniture

If you want your furniture to be always beautiful and shiny, then you need to polish it twice or at least once a year. This does not mean that polishing requires professional help. You can do it easily with the help of vegetable oil or olive oil. These oils also help in achieving the correct brightness. But then it is easy to polish because there are so many woods in the wood.

However, not all wood species need oil. Therefore, the type of furniture is important. In other words, the finishing of wood is an important factor, whether it is steel or liposomal paint or polished or whether special wood such as bamboo needs to be dried from time to time. One of the best ways is to consult the expert to deal with these kinds of situations. If you are looking for the packaging and moving company then Packers and Movers Wakad is the number one choice. They will take care of your goods and products and deliver it safely to your location.

The main purpose of the morning is to restore endurance, but it is necessary to use specially designed wax for wood. The other option available for your use is based on polished oil but does not produce hard ends.

Do not use oil enamel on the surface of linoleum. It is best to coat wood regularly by rubbing it with dust or rubbing it with a damp cloth. On the other hand, a greasy wood like oak, beech and teak and a good mahogany oil treatment such as teak oil or dry, linseed with lint-free cloths.

If your wood polishing furniture is good, then you can just rub wax on the surface of the wood and cover the length of forming a thin layer. Leave it to dry and then wash with a soft, clean cloth. Many people prefer odor which just ended, the choice of spray paint. If you are also interested, then buy refreshments and rest your wooden furniture.

Use honey on wood Wax is depicted. In fact, the varnish prevents the penetration of the wax, it is silly to waste time, which is smooth.

Always remember that cleaning the forest in a well-ventilated area is better and safer. While cleaning, you can simply keep logs on other objects on the floor and are not even polluted. After completing the cleaning of the furniture, the cleaning near the environment will be easy.

Always keep in safe place

In safe places, I mean that the furniture is kept in ideal weather conditions. In other words, it is best to save wooden furniture from direct sunlight. If this is not possible, then try to come into contact with direct sunlight. It is good to avoid furniture at very low places at the same time because it can cause cracks in the walls.

You: How do you clean and polish your furniture?

It is the most used furniture in the world. Not only do they look very aesthetic, but they are also very solid. The price of wooden furniture is generally higher than other types of furniture, but it is worth considering.

Suppose if you have a expensive and appealing furniture at your office of home, so how you will maintain its appeal? Proper maintenance, including quick cleaning and polishing, is definitely a case.

There is no need to polish some wooden furniture and can be kept in good condition after cleaning the dust and collecting dirt. However, you need to grow other types of furniture or get oil treatment to repair the timber's durability. After that, you need to see what kind of wood you have and then take help of various natural ingredients like white vinegar, vegetable oil, olive oil, and other items to take care of your furniture.

Professional cleaning companies are interested in everything from cleaning agents to cleaning and polishing your product.

How do you clean and polish your furniture? Have you tried one of those successes which we have talked about? Do not hesitate to share what you do to keep your furniture clean and polite.

[jeevanrahii-blog]

How to Keep Your Wooden Furniture as New One

We all like furniture which specially provides plenty of space. But as you know, cleaning the furniture, especially for home furniture, can be very difficult. Everything that happens in our home or office requires proper maintenance and cleanliness. If you do not clean the furniture properly, sooner or later it will lose its attraction. Fortunately, there are a lot of smart ways to keep wooden furniture clean and as new one. We will discuss this in today's article. We talk about all those things that you should know about keeping wooden furniture clean and polished.

Wood represents our country's traditions and culture. Later, other materials were used in the furniture industry to clean it easily or easily, but wood furniture still dominates others. This is not only because of tradition but also because the wood gives a unique refinement to the whole house. As we all know that wooden furniture is more expensive than other types of furniture.

Despite the stability of the furniture, if it is not kept clean and shiny, then it quickly loses its shine through the accumulation of dirt, dust, oil etc. Now you can use the same cleaning techniques or components for each material. Cannot be adjusted like a steel surface and cannot be suitable for wood surfaces as well. So you have to know which wood surface is the best. Today I will give you some important tips on how to keep your wooden furniture as new one. These tips not only help to decorate your furniture, but they also save it from loss and increase its life.

The beauty of wood furniture is mainly contained in its fabric, dull or shiny. However, over time, beauty gradually fades away if not regularly cleaned. Wood texture is mainly influenced by dust, dirt, and signs of Greece. Therefore, proper care of your wooden furniture is necessary to increase life and maintain quality. One week's dusts are best, but if you are busy, clean it at least once or twice a month. Polishing is also important if you want your furniture to look fresh for a long time, and then make it once a year, and maintain the beauty of your wooden furniture.

However, all wooden surfaces cannot be polished. You need to know what kind of wood you have before thinking about polishing. But do not worry, because I will discuss everything in detail. After reading the article, you have a clear idea about how to easily store your wooden furniture.

Wooden furniture has Indian heritage and I am sure all of us want to protect it. I'm sure everyone wants to know how.  Best Home Packers and Movers are one of the trusted packaging and moving company will take care of your furniture while transporting among various cities.

Tips to keep your wooden furniture as new one

Before I went to my new home, I completed an internship. Of course, my house is full of wooden furniture and I take care of everything and that's why I always look for a new one.

Dust, cleaning, and polishing are easy ways to store wooden furniture, but you have to know the techniques to correct it. These tips will help you to keep your wooden furniture as new one.

The following is a list of the most important tips that you can use to keep your wooden furniture as new one and increase its lifespan.

Basic cleaning agent

Before cleaning any furniture, make sure you have all the basic cleaning products available. Take out the vacuum and bucket. Select a cube to capture at least one gallon of water. After that, you should also have soft, clean clothes, which should not be used with other cleaners because they can affect the quality of your wooden furniture. Using microfiber cloth is best.

The reason for what I have said is that things are being done to clean things so that you can do the work fast. If you need to find cleaning products during the cleaning process, it stops concentration and delays the work unnecessarily. When terminating the important cleaning agent, the cleaning process of wood furniture remains incomplete. Therefore, it is best to arrange all cleaning products before starting cleaning.

Start with a base powder

First, take a clean, dry cloth and moisten it with water. Carefully clean wooden furniture this moisture helps the dust particles in the dock and does not allow them to fly in different directions. After some time, remove dust with vacuum cleaners and brushes from wooden surfaces. Clear dust shapes and even small spaces however, remember that do not use the attached file in the corner fill, because it can cause many scratches.

Use vacuum cleaners to remove dust from wooden furniture cushions and pillows, as it does not have any meaning to soak some cleansed wooden furniture with some dirt.

You can spray the grains because the years of work on the surface of your timber make a specific pattern. Packers and Movers in Delhi will look after your every household items and office goods. We assure you the safety of the products with 100% guaranteed.

Clean with vinegar water solution.

If your wooden furniture is so dirty, then use vinegar and water to clean it. Add few of the drops of vinegar in half gallon hot water. If you cover a large area of wood you can increase the hold. Then put this solution in the spray bottle, spray or use a cloth to clean the surface of the wood.

Be sure to blow the cloth properly on the wood, because the water can damage the wood before use. Continue to rub the cloth in a circular motion.

Remove moisture

This is one of the important tip that never allow the moisture to be on your wooden furniture. As soon as you find any moisture, remove it from the surface. If the water gets inside wooden surface then it will shorten the life of your furniture.

At the end of the furniture cleaning process, you have to find a final coating to remove the remaining moisture from the surface.

Use a dry cloth to rubbing the surfaces again and shining in a circle. Unless you have not ensured that you can easily remove moisture and dry or nearly dry wood surfaces, do not stop working.

Polish wooden furniture

If you want your furniture to be always beautiful and shiny, then you need to polish it twice or at least once a year. This does not mean that polishing requires professional help. You can do it easily with the help of vegetable oil or olive oil. These oils also help in achieving the correct brightness. But then it is easy to polish because there are so many woods in the wood.

However, not all wood species need oil. Therefore, the type of furniture is important. In other words, the finishing of wood is an important factor, whether it is steel or liposomal paint or polished or whether special wood such as bamboo needs to be dried from time to time. One of the best ways is to consult the expert to deal with these kinds of situations. If you are looking for the packaging and moving company then Packers and Movers in Dwarka is the number one choice. They will take care of your goods and products and deliver it safely to your location.

The main purpose of the morning is to restore endurance, but it is necessary to use specially designed wax for wood. The other option available for your use is based on polished oil but does not produce hard ends.

Do not use oil enamel on the surface of linoleum. It is best to coat wood regularly by rubbing it with dust or rubbing it with a damp cloth. On the other hand, a greasy wood like oak, beech and teak and a good mahogany oil treatment such as teak oil or dry, linseed with lint-free cloths.

If your wood polishing furniture is good, then you can just rub wax on the surface of the wood and cover the length of forming a thin layer. Leave it to dry and then wash with a soft, clean cloth. Many people prefer odor which just ended, the choice of spray paint. If you are also interested, then buy refreshments and rest your wooden furniture.

Use honey on wood Wax is depicted. In fact, the varnish prevents the penetration of the wax, it is silly to waste time, which is smooth.

Always remember that cleaning the forest in a well-ventilated area is better and safer. While cleaning, you can simply keep logs on other objects on the floor and are not even polluted. After completing the cleaning of the furniture, the cleaning near the environment will be easy.

Always keep in safe place

In safe places, I mean that the furniture is kept in ideal weather conditions. In other words, it is best to save wooden furniture from direct sunlight. If this is not possible, then try to come into contact with direct sunlight. It is good to avoid furniture at very low places at the same time because it can cause cracks in the walls.

You: How do you clean and polish your furniture?

It is the most used furniture in the world. Not only do they look very aesthetic, but they are also very solid. The price of wooden furniture is generally higher than other types of furniture, but it is worth considering.

Suppose if you have a expensive and appealing furniture at your office of home, so how you will maintain its appeal? Proper maintenance, including quick cleaning and polishing, is definitely a case.

There is no need to polish some wooden furniture and can be kept in good condition after cleaning the dust and collecting dirt. However, you need to grow other types of furniture or get oil treatment to repair the timber's durability. After that, you need to see what kind of wood you have and then take help of various natural ingredients like white vinegar, vegetable oil, olive oil, and other items to take care of your furniture.

Professional cleaning companies are interested in everything from cleaning agents to cleaning and polishing your product.

How do you clean and polish your furniture? Have you tried one of those successes which we have talked about? Do not hesitate to share what you do to keep your furniture clean and polite.

Visit: “Solution to Control the Emotional Stress While Moving to a New City”for best and reliable solution.

[golfnomad]

Bay Area Trip, Part 1: East Bay Seclusion

I recently returned from a quick 3-day trip (I guess 4 days if you count the drive up on Sunday night) to the Bay Area. When all the smoke cleared, I played 12 courses, including a number of short courses in between the main rounds. This will end up being a 5-part series to cover all the rounds. The main reason for the trip was to take advantage of an invite to play California Golf Club of San Francisco. I played that on Tuesday afternoon, right in the middle of the trip. However, that one will get its own review and you’ll have to wait for it. It will come last.

Part 1 will focus on the first three courses I played Monday morning in the East Bay Area...

Lake Chabot Golf Course • Oakland, CA • 6/19/17

This is a course that has always intrigued me, and I wanted to make it a point to play here on this trip. The main reason for the intrigue is the 18th hole, which is the only par-6 hole left in California. I’ve never played a par-6 on my travels and they are quite rare these days. I know there used to be one at El Rivino down in Riverside, but that closed long before I had a chance to play it.

I booked a 6:34 tee time on GolfNow for $24, which turned out to be much cheaper than the $42 listed on the course’s website. I arrived early and the pro shop wasn’t open yet. They didn’t open up until a little after 6:00, but there wasn’t much of a crowd and I was able to get off first on my own for a very quick round.

On my drive into the course, I was able to get a sneak preview of much of the front nine. In fact, this is perhaps the worst-designed entry road of any golf course I’ve played. The road goes right through the middle of a bunch of holes and will very much come into play. Luckily, I played on a slow day, so there weren’t many cars coming through while I played (and there weren’t too many golfers hitting as I drove out afterward). Otherwise, on a busy day it would be very uncomfortable for golfers teeing off on these holes and very dangerous for drivers coming or going from the clubhouse. It is a very strange set up for the road.

The front nine where the road is in play is rather repetitive. Most of these holes have a downhill tee shot over the road and then a steep climb back uphill for the approach. The holes definitely get a lot more interesting after this initial stretch. However, there is a predominance of uphill/semi-blind approach shots. Almost every green on the course is elevated. It can get tiresome.

The one hole that helps make up for this is the par-3 9th, which is one of the most severe downhill par-3s I’ve ever seen. From the blue tees, it plays at 175 yards and is a completely blind shot down into a small canyon. There is a pole behind the green to give you an aiming point, but otherwise it’s just bombs away. Hit it and hope! If you are playing the white tees, you can see at least part of the green, but it is still a tricky shot to judge. 

Beyond the initial repetitive stretch on the front nine, Lake Chabot is anything but boring. The course overall is not long, topping out at just 6,006 yards from the blue tees. It is very hilly and tight with a lot of trees and steep slopes in play. It is definitely target golf, which I personally enjoy. The setting is also nice and secluded, and you are afforded some great views from the elevated greens. The setting definitely adds to the appeal here. With the morning sun and the elevated approaches where you can’t see much of anything, it was hard to get pictures. You’ll see most of my shots are from on or around the greens with the elevated vantage point. Not much else turned out.

After a very fun middle stretch of holes, Lake Chabot culminates with its signature hole. I was excited to play the par-6 and see what it was all about. The 18th measures 667 yards from the blue tees. The tee shot is somewhat demanding with a slightly downhill shot and what feels like a narrow landing area. The fairway also slopes pretty hard from right to left. 

Then, the hole makes a sharp left turn straight down the hill. It is a steep drop-off with the cart path zig-zagging back and forth across it kind of like Lombard Street. I suppose that is for safety because a straight downhill path along one side or the other could get dangerous, especially in winter. This steep drop runs all the way down until about the 100-yard marker and then the hole goes slightly back uphill for the approach shot to a two-tiered green. 

It’s great that Lake Chabot has this par-6 gimmick to market around, and based on the short overall distance of this course (only one of the three par-5s measures over 500 yards), I guess it makes relative sense here. However, I would argue by most standards it should be a par-5. I am not a long hitter. I hit a pretty good (not great) drive that ended up in the middle of the fairway up top. Then, I hit a really good 3-wood over the corner for my second shot. 

A maintenance worker was out there managing the sprinklers and luckily he saw where my ball ended up. It got hung up in the little bit of rough that lines the cart path that zig-zags across the fairway several times. It is not much rough to stop your ball, but I think the combination of that and the freshly watered fairway was enough to slow my ball down to a stop. Even then, I ended up about 2/3 of the way down the hill and I only had 160 yards in for my third shot. If my ball didn’t stop there, I might have easily gotten as far down as the 100-yard marker at the bottom of the hill.

Of course, I still missed the green, wasn’t able to get up and down, and ended up with the most disappointing par ever! Either way, a short hitter like me shouldn’t have that easy a look at getting on the green in under regulation. 

I’m told that in the winter, when things are wet and soggier throughout the course, this hole definitely plays as a true par-6. You won’t get the same kind of roll-out you do in summer. I actually think a really long hitter (a pro perhaps) could hit a big high draw (right-to-left shot) over the corner off the tee and get all the way down the hill, leaving just a short wedge in and a putt at double eagle.

So, in some ways it’s a silly hole that is questionably rated as a par-6. That said, it is a very fun hole design with the big dogleg and steep fairway drop. A lot of good and bad things could happen here. I happened to hit the ideal first two shots for my game, but it wouldn’t take much to make a complete mess of this hole. 

The course was in decent shape and it seems they are making an effort. They were doing a lot of watering on the fairways with sprinklers that I had to shuck and jive around at times. Some tee boxes were a bit unlevel, but fine enough. Fairways were inconsistent, but mostly lush and nice to hit from. The rough was more hit and miss. There are very few bunkers on this course (I think only a couple fairway bunkers I noticed and no greenside bunkers I can remember?), so no comments there. The greens were soft and rolling medium/slow, getting quicker as they started to dry out. They were sometimes a bit bumpy and had a few bad spots here and there. They were not terrible, but not great either.

Whatever you think of the 18th, Lake Chabot ends up being a pretty fun layout. Keep it in play and you can post a really, really good score. Get offline just a bit and you will be hating life. It’s not a course everyone will enjoy, but I had fun there and I definitely liked the peaceful, secluded setting. I saw wild deer and turkey roaming the course, and I also made friends with a couple goats that were in the yard of one of only a handful of houses that border the course. 

Some pictures from Lake Chabot Golf Course (6/19/17):

Below is all you can see from the blue tee on the downhill par-3 9th. Unfortunately, it was still dark in that spot, so you can’t see much:

I wasn’t done at Lake Chabot. That’s because they actually have a second course here...

Lake Chabot Golf Course (Par 3 Course) • Oakland, CA • 6/19/17

The short course at Lake Chabot is just a 9-hole par-3 track, but I wouldn’t necessarily call it a “pitch and putt.” The holes range from just 66 yards up to 162, so you actually get a pretty good mix of lengths. 

The Par 3 Course is walking only (cost me $11 to play) and also doubles as an 18-hole disc golf course (with two baskets near each green). I brought one of my discs just to throw a couple times. Though only nine holes, the course is a pretty good hike up and down some hills and along the edge of a canyon. A few holes are pretty narrow from tee to green, as well. Then, the 4th hole is a fun one that plays straight downhill.

Conditions were spottier on this side compared to the main course. The tee boxes were pretty chewed up and most of the areas in between the tees and greens were brown grass or just bare dirt. The greens themselves were decent enough, though probably a couple notches down from the other course. Everything was adequate enough for a short course of this caliber.

The short course at Lake Chabot is a fun side option or place to work on your short game, but not something that is worth too much trouble. 

Some pictures from Lake Chabot Golf Course (Par 3 Course) (6/19/17):

After grabbing a quick breakfast, I was ready for my next golf stop nearby...

Redwood Canyon Golf Course • Castro Valley, CA • 6/19/17

Redwood Canyon is not far from Lake Chabot as the crow flies (it is just on the other side of the actual lake/recreation area). That’s the main reason I picked it for my next round. However, it is an indirect drive that will take 15-20 minutes.

Redwood Canyon used to be called Willow Park. I am not sure why the name changed. I can definitely understand the “canyon” aspect because this whole course runs down through a beautiful little canyon area. I am not sure where the “redwood” name came from, as I didn’t see anything resembling a redwood around here.

I made a 10:18 time online for $27, but the course wasn’t crowded at all on a Monday morning. I teed off by myself a little before 10:00. I caught some groups about halfway through the front nine. Ultimately, I joined up with the twosome ahead of me at the turn. The back nine went slower with a foursome in front of us that seemed to get more sluggish as the round went on. Still, it was only a 3:20 overall pace. 

Like Lake Chabot, Redwood Canyon is not a long course. It is a par-71 that stretches out to only 5,801 from the blue tees. I would probably also consider it target-oriented, but not quite as much as Chabot.

Despite the lack of any redwoods, the most appealing aspect of Redwood Canyon is the secluded canyon setting. It is very pretty and peaceful out there with no civilization anywhere around the course. You are enveloped by the natural surroundings and it is a great backdrop for the course.

The course itself is just okay. Each nine goes out and back in different sides of the canyon, but there are no changes in elevation. It is pretty flat overall. A creek runs down the middle of the front nine and can come into play a lot. There is a little less trouble to get into on the back nine. Trees definitely are a factor throughout the course. There are many big old trees that come into play and affect your shot decisions. A number of front nine holes have trees guarding the front left of the greens, which I must say was a real nuisance for me trying to play my fades.

I don’t know if I would consider anything a signature hole at Redwood Canyon, but the best parts of the course are the two par-3s furthest away from the clubhouse on either end of the canyon. I’m talking about the 5th and 13th holes. There isn’t anything overly distinctive about the holes themselves, but they are probably the two prettiest parts of the course because they are the most removed from anything resembling civilization.

The course was in mediocre condition, to put it nicely. I would say consistently inconsistent. Many tee boxes were rock hard and it was difficult to get the tee in the ground. I suppose they were level enough, though. The fairways were kind of hodge podge of grass/weeds/hardpan/dirt/etc. and not always cut to consistent lengths. Some areas were pretty good and others were not so good. The rough was more of the same, but even spottier. I was in one bunker and it had very nice soft sand. The greens were soft-ish and rolling at medium/slow speeds. They were bumpy at times and had some ugly spots here and there.

Of the two, I would definitely pick Lake Chabot. I loved the setting of Redwood Canyon more than anything about the course itself. Still, I had a fun time at both locations and the prices were reasonable. The seclusion each property provides is a welcome relief from the hustle and bustle of the Oakland/East Bay congestion. 

Some pictures from Redwood Canyon Golf Course (6/19/17):

I ended up playing twice more on Monday, with one more regulation course (Metropolitan Golf Links) and one really crazy short course (Montclair Golf Club). I will review those in Part 2, so stay tuned...