#mainly because he seemed to be speaking into a cell phone normally without any metallic sounds right in the mic

[annabelle--cane]

since needles said the other guy didn't see all his needles until they were right up close, I've been picturing them as almost looking like body hair. just little greyish wisps that sorta lay down flat, until either you see him from the right angle and realize his body hair glints in the sun or you get close enough and think "wow, I'm sure scaring him, all his hair is standing right on end" and then. well.

[xkavonimex]

What if?

Okay, he could do this. I mean, this wasn't something he did everyday but how could it really compare to saving the world? Scratch that, saving the galaxy. So yeah, he could do this. This really wasn't the √−1, that is to say impossible, but then that wasn't true, it was imaginary not impossible and while those words could sometimes be used interchangeably (like when mentioning the chances of pigs flying - but then that too - okay. This really wasn't helping. Sam needed to calm down and stop pacing - when did he start pacing? That doesn't matter. He picked up his backpack and moved to the door, taking another breath as he grabbed his helmet. His new life starts today, he should be way more excited. Pacing and procrastinating was not how he planned to spend the morning. Still, he had a short flight to the SHIELD helicarrier to clear his head, well short for someone with his abilities anyway. He found himself hovering in front of a metal door not twenty minutes later. The door itself was obviously no issue - he'd gotten the clearance earlier (even without it though he'd like to think he had a good chance against the thin metal). Instead, the problem was his racing mind as he prepared himself to meet his new team. This was it, his big defining moment. There was only one chance to form a first impression, just a matter of seconds really - unless they got amnesia but it was extremely unlikely that the whole team would - stop Sam, stop. All he had to do was go in, introduce himself and keep up his new persona, how hard could that be? Apparently, it was considerably harder than he thought. When he entered the room, all eyes turned on him. The other 3 people in the room - the rest of his team, were in the middle of some conversation but it trailed off with little complaint. The one closest to him spoke first, the only girl in the room. “You're Nova, aren't you?” She spoke as though it was a question but she hardly needed any confirmation, judging by what SHIELD had shown him of his soon-to-be teammates. He mentally listed what he knew about her: she was great at hand to hand combat; while in costume she had sharp claws and quick reflexes, making her a capable fighter; her intelligence was reasonably high both on and off the - oh she was waiting for an answer… oops. “Yeah,” he inwardly cringed at how loud that came out - that was something to get used to (though judging by their faces, they were also surprised and displeased in varying amounts). White tiger looked the most annoyed (by a considerable margin), but then she seemed like the serious type. “I'm White Tiger, or Ava Ayala, this is Luke Cage” - she gestured to the boy to her right who gave a small nod and a smile. He was well built, especially for a teen, and (from what he'd seen on the SHIELD files and from a bit of research - it was the smart thing to do) he had exceptional strength and impermeable skin. That in itself was rather interesting, those traits were clearly not just achieved through training so he had to have acquired them somehow, but there were so many possibilities. Did he get them from some sort of mutation? Or maybe it was passed on from a not-too-human parent or ancestor? Maybe this was the result of some interesting genetic engineering or - “and this is Iron Fist or Danny Rand” - she gestured to the boy to her left, drawing Sam's attention back from where he was probably staring. The boy in question offered a small bow of his head - wasn't that awkward?, and a greeting Sam was not listening to (in favour of mentally listing the facts he knew). Danny had the power to concentrate immense amounts of energy on his fist(s? He'd have to look into that). H was also incredibly skilled at some form of martial arts - whose name Sam couldn't catch from the rooftop he was perched on, and (confusingly) a pacifist? Sam's rambling was cut short this time by everyone's eyes on him, they'd probably asked a question? Naturally, he responded with the most intellectual response he could manage: “Uhh?” It was monosyllabic, a filler word (if it could be called any) and drawled in such a way that said ‘I probably only have half a dozen brain cells - at most’. Perfect. “What's your name?” Luke was somewhat louder this time, louder at least than whoever had spoken before. (Probably Ava seeing as she had been doing most of the talking and looked the most annoyed by his slowness, then again she had been the most annoyed by everything so far so she could just be short tempered? Maybe that was just her normal face and default tone? What was it that kid back in Arizona called it.. A bitch resting face! - Focus Sam.) “Oh, Sam,“ he paused for a moment before adding “Alexander”, because he could at least return the gesture of a full formal introduction. After the introductions were over, he learnt a few interesting titbits about the rest of his team and some intriguing rumors about SHIELD. Naturally, Sam continued to establish his new persona by being loud and slow - sometimes to the point that he would make the rest jump because of a sudden realisation. Sam was absolutely delighted to learn that they would be joined by another hero (and Spider-Man no less - not that he was a fan or anything). That feeling only grew when he found out they would be joining a school in the area. He had joked about making a new life for himself with this new persona, but this was something else. He'd be able to start school afresh as a complete idiot and try all the stuff he couldn't because of his suffocating reputation as a ‘smart and reasonable’ person. He couldn't wait. Okay, so Spidey wasn't as cool as Sam thought he would be; he was far, far better. His real name was Peter Parker, he was 16 like the rest of them and he was a total dork. He was smart and funny and, okay, maybe a little bit cute. More likely a lot. He was very cute. That had absolutely nothing to do with Spider-Man being one of his favourite Earth heroes - close even to Ms. Marvel on his (rather extensive) list, but the guy was just adorable. Obviously, he wasn't the only one on the team he found cute. Danny was somewhat adorable in a unique and strange way, like those small puppies who had lost a leg - Nope. Sam had heard that said before, but even when he thought it it sounded like an insult, maybe a backhanded compliment at best. Maybe he should apologise when he sees Danny next? That will probably confuse him but it should be fine, random apologies were hardly the weirdest thing the team put up with - mainly thanks to a certain spider and the slew of villains they had to put up with on a regular basis. Speaking of the spider, he does a lot of speaking, to himself. Obviously, Sam had no problem with it - he even found some of the spider’s more animated ‘conversations’ to be amusing, possibly even endearing. At first he had assumed that this was just the product of an overactive mind - a lot of smart people did talk to themselves at some point (unless you were Tony, then you built something else that you could talk to instead). However, full blown arguments with yourself fell into a slightly different category of overactivity that made him more than a little worried for Peter’s sanity. Thankfully, his ‘spidey sense’ as he liked to call it kept him out of any unforeseen danger (Sam was very interested in learning more about that). Sam had recently challenged himself to sneak up on Peter - it was proving to be far more of a challenge than he originally thought. Whenever he got close, Peter’s damned sixth sense would kick in and alert him of the incoming attack. So inconvenient. What made it worse was Sam had to very quickly start doing something ‘Sam-like’ to not blow his cover or just be caught being odd. Of course these were planned beforehand so he wasn't caught out but Peter may start wondering what's going on if this keeps up any longer. The problem, because for people like Sam a problem to overcome was always the solution to what you couldn't do. If he had problems, he had goals and solutions he could work towards. Most people seemed to like lists and organisation but Sam was happy if he knew what all the problems were. Then he could logically come to conclusions and solutions and - he really needed to focus just once. Anyway, the main problem was just a lack of confidence on his part. He always assumed that he would fail, causing him to stop short 9 times out of 10, but today was different; today he was going to do it. Sam took a slow breath when he saw the spider and began floating just a small distance above the floor - to mask his footsteps. Peter appeared to be fiddling with his web shooters, typical. He moved in slowly, keeping a consistent pace and trying not to grin. When he was close enough, Sam shot forward - his top speed was far too quick for any of Spider-Man’s legendary reflexes but that was hardly safe to attempt in doors and he didn't really have enough time or distance to accelerate. Instead, he chose to accelerate at a much slower rate slightly above Peter's head until he was almost above him. Now or never. Nova swooped down suddenly, grabbing Peter under his arms to carry him into the air. The spider gave a startled squawk and almost dropped his phone but that didn't deter him from contorting his body in a frighteningly dangerous looking way to land a solid kick in Sam's stomach, ouch. He was really, really glad he'd decided to sneak up in costume - if he hadn't, well he definitely would have broken a rib or two without the Nova force. “Chill Webs, it's me.” Thank whatever force up there that his voice came out evenly. Peter visibly calmed down once he realised what was going on, but he clearly wasn't happy about it. “Where are you taking me?” He sounded pissed, then again he seemed to hate the team by default - Sam put it down as an attempt to distance himself from the team and thus his secret identity from his crime fighting alter ego. Peter was easily one of the people who put the most effort into remaining unknown, most likely due to that overactive imagination and paranoia. Wait he asked a question, didn't he? “Sommewhere,” Sam drawled, putting extra emphasis on the draw out syllables. He hadn't actually decided where he would bring him, and he was still surprised this had worked. He was known for being a bit dumb and slow, and acting on impulse more times than not, but that wouldn't explain something like this. Everyone who passed was probably guessing his ‘ulterior motives’. For someone so smart, he really was stupid. As if reading his mind, the alarm sounded. Now Sam never really liked the phrase ‘saved by the bell’ - seeing as the bell signified the end of class, which meant corridors packed with students, or (far far worse) the end of the day. Granted he wasn't hated or even largely disliked, but he still had a number of people who would much rather see him moving at a more horizontal angle along the floor. Fun. Sadly, it appeared to just be one of the things that happened - you could only be so smart before the people you make feel stupid want to return the favour. Sam might have also had a few unfavourable habits that ended rather badly him and whatever personal belongings he had to hand (do not, I repeat do not correct an angry person period). Oh yeah, the alarm. It wasn't really a bell, which should have Sam feeling a lot more alarmed but instead he felt a bit relieved in his reminiscence, until he felt muscles tense beneath his hands (Wow.). It took little effort to reroute themselves, arriving at the control room just in time to hear Fury get real pissed - some idiot thought it would be a good idea to try attack the helicarrier. Needless to say, the heroes quickly set to work in disposing of the (somewhat pitiful) invading force - with the help of a couple dozen equally pissed SHIELD agents who had been ambushed on their lunch break (all the other agents just continued working unless directly inconvenienced). Peter seemed to have completely forgotten about the little act earlier, or assumed he'd known something that Peter hadn't. Sam definitely wasn't going to correct him or bring it up (he'd just file it away as a victory and leave it at that). Despite the somewhat rocky start to their friendship, it was hard to stop the group becoming friends with the large amount of time they spent together. Obviously, like all friendships, theirs went through many trials and tribulations - such as a nice extended stay at Peter's while the helicarrier was repaired, or rebuilt, or whatever they were doing (Sam really didn't care). While the flying fortress had been his home for quite an extended period of time, his own home - his real homes, were both only a short flight away (relatively speaking - the universe was vast). Since he currently had no desire to return to Arizona for the duration of the fix - just because he could make the flight didn't mean he'd want to, and he didn't want to go off planet for some unpredictable amount of time (what was time to galaxy travelling guardians?), finding alternative arrangements had been a must - and caused Sam ridiculous amounts of anxiety. But now? Now Sam was excited. He was going to be staying at his heroes house - even if he wasn't as cool as he originally thought and was, in fact, a massive dork. This meant he could observe him up close - for completely scientific, non-stalkery reasons that would benefit the team obviously. The excitement had been building from the second he learnt the plan, to the point that he couldn't hold back a grin and had to take a few laps of the town (to ‘patrol’) to help wear himself out. Would it be bad to wish the helicarrier was never fixed? By the time he arrived at Peter's house, Sam was the picture of annoyed nonchalance. This was the product of a good half hour in front of the mirror (in some random mcdonalds a few towns over), and a quick read on the difficulties that honeybees were facing (he'll plant some lavender and tulips when he gets the chance). Some of his still hidden excitement did die down when he realised just how cramped the house was going to be with the entire team there, but he'd be lying if he said that didn't interest him even slightly. Sam had been enjoying getting to know his team and all their little quirks and traits so being forced to spend even more time even closer to them wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Don't grin, don't grin. Peter had greeted the group at the door with an awkward smile and a few horrible jokes - it always amused Sam how he flitted between Peter Parker and Spider-Man whenever the team was involved. They were introduced briefly to his aunt before being given a tour of the house while Peter attempted to do his best at sounding authoritative - cute. Knowing Peter, he was probably being ridiculously detailed for the benefit of the group. He had also probably thought ahead about what everyone would want or need to know, so that he wouldn't be bombarded with questions later and to avoid some unsatisfactory situations. “And do not, I repeat do not, go in my aunt's room,” Peter turned back to face the group, giving a smile the said the tour was concluded, “any questions?” Now was probably not the time to admit that he hadn't been listening, like at all. Then again he could get a one-on-one tour with Peter (and find some new things to appreciate). Anyway, it was a very Sam-like thing to have not been listening. “Do you think you could repeat that end bit?” Sam saw Peter go to speak, probably about to ask for clarification on what Sam had not heard and/ or understood. “Oh and the first bit,” he gave a slight pause again as though inviting him to speak, “while you're at it, repeating everything that came between would be great.” Even he felt like slapping himself, so it was nice to see that the feeling was mutual for the majority of the team; Danny seemed to be the only one who didn't have a problem with this, but then again he seemed to be a Zen master (Sam made a note to try piss off Danny sometime, not that he didn't like the boy or anything, he just wanted to know if he could). “Did you listen to anything I said?” Part of being “somewhat intellectually challenged” (as his science teacher had written on his recent report - Rude), was that he pretended not to understand a great deal of content. To his team, he was always using the excuse of being out in space so unable to attend school - which they easily bought. The school seemed satisfied with hearing that his old school hadn't been so good. This did mean he made a few enemies in the teachers who got tired of explaining each topic in explicit detail only to have him fall at the first hurdle. Repeatedly. He honestly couldn't find himself minding when it meant he had significantly better relationships with the other students. Surprisingly, despite his constant low performance, he wasn't always the worst in the class - which was honestly slightly worrying, but those that were didn't hate him for doing better. Consistently bad test results did cause issues when it came to the nicer teachers, those who wanted to help him and were offering him all sorts of extra support. Fun. He did his best at playing the part of an annoyed teen, but they just kept thinking up new ways to help. Sam honestly hadn't counted on them trying to involve his friends. Peter, being the nerd he is, often happily went to extra sessions after school to help ‘further his knowledge’ - yeah right, he was already ahead in some subjects but he only ever revised those same few. Their physics teacher, being the butt he is, tried to use this to his advantage by trying to convince Sam to come along on the basis that his ‘best friend Peter’ is going to be there. It wasn't until Peter asked himself (and Sam managed to get him to agree to a game night afterwards) that he changed his mind on the matter. Physics always had been one of his strongest subjects. When they arrived, 10 minutes late - because their English teacher really didn't like Sam (one might even say they hate him, not Sam though, Sam preferred the word despised), they were met by a group of miserable faces and one strained smile. “Hello boys, glad you could make it,” the physics teacher (and the only one smiling) greeted, turning away from the students he'd been bothering (read: tutoring). “Do you have anything specific you wanted to work on?” Unsurprisingly, his smile seemed less strained at the prospect of abandoning these students (obviously, he would be reluctant to leave the students but he did have to help others as well). “Me and Peter are gonna work on-” Sam, seemingly randomly, grabbed one of the sheets that had been set out for the study session “-this.” As an afterthought, he grabbed one for Peter. Before Peter could interject, he had been dragged to a table near the back of the room. Sam did not want to spend the next hour listening to the teacher drone on about some of the most basic information, especially not if doing so meant suffering through his oversimplifications and models (just because it is slightly similar does not mean a student should base their understanding off it). Instead, he was going to spend his hour daydreaming and staring at Peter (definitely not daydreaming about Peter though), while pretending to not know what he's doing and making spectacular mistakes. What do you mean gravity isn't 23m/s^3? It is on that one planet. Peter was playing the part of the adorable nerd perfectly. Whenever he got stuck on a question or confused he would furrow his brow and sometimes seemingly squint at the words (Probably a habit from back when he needed glasses) but the smile that would take over when he worked it out was unmistakable. The little repeated pattern didn't help too much at working out what question he was on with all the indentations (Looking at you 4biii) and with the ridiculously simple ones that weren't worth his time (I wonder what gravity could possible be). Sam could almost see Peter roll his eyes as he moved through some of the simpler questions. He had really nice eyes as well and, thanks to the bite, very keen eyesight. With eyesight that keen, it was honestly a surprise his staring hadn't been noticed earlier - Spidey's peripheral vision was nothing to laugh at. He was probably too engrossed in his science. Obviously, Peter picked that moment to glance over at Sam. Great. Sam could feel his ears begin to burn and his mouth go dry (not that he wanted to speak anyway, he was far more likely to convince Peter he was part bird). Sam would swear he felt his heart skip a beat, would not could - he knew it was far more likely for your heart to give an extra beat than it was to miss one, but the frighteningly consistent rushing beats were thundering in his ears. Calm down, calm down, calm down! What was it Starlord had taught him? Reciting things from memory? (That obviously wasn't his first suggestion but it had been the only one Sam had deemed acceptable). That's simple enough, just pick a number. Sam took a deep breath. 1 . 7 7 Peter was still looking at him. 2 4 5 Thankfully, he only looked slightly confused. 3 8 5 0 His heartbeat was no longer in his ears; small victory but one nonetheless. 9 0 5 5 … “Um,” he attempted after what felt like forever (Probably only a couple of minutes since Peter was still looking at him). Sam cringed when he heard his voice crack on the single syllable; Peter raised an eyebrow. “I was just daydreaming.” Please buy it, please buy it- “Your supposed to be stopping yourself falling further behind,” Peter rolled his eyes and held out his hand, “Did you even try any of the questions?” “I'm ahead of Flash!” he countered as he handed over the sheet, inwardly smirking at the pigeon scrawl he had chosen to use. “Flash doesn't count,” Peter responded just as quickly, smiling slightly as he did. The smile didn't last long though, dropping off his face effortlessly as he looked at Sam's sheet, brow furrowed. Not good. After a few seconds of silence, Sam sighed dramatically. “C’mon Peter, it can't be that bad.” He was sure he only used the wrong constant, and the wrong formulas, and the wrong symbols, and the wrong numbers altogether… oh yeah - that might have been overkill. No wonder Peter looked so confused. “This is Spanish.” Though a statement, there was an unmistakable upward infection, showing Peter's uncertainty. Oops. “You're failing spanish.” Double oops. Sam shrugged. “I was cramming for the Spanish test next week.” That was clearly a totally acceptable answer as to why someone who struggled to say their own name in Spanish would manage a whole page, right? Peter did not look impressed. “I can't even tell if this is right or not Sam, I can't even understand half of it.” Peter squinted back at the homework sheet, as though expecting his now narrowed field of vision to somehow aid his Spanish translating (you really never know, he is Spider-Man so it wouldn't be odd if he had some weird, near-sighted translating powers there was, after all, no proof that spider's didn't have that ability) - it did not. Even if his focused squint was beginning to decode the horrid pigeon-scrawl, Sam didn't wait to find out. He effortlessly snatched the paper from a Peter (with his stickiness it was shear luck that it was being held so gently), before ripping it into a hard to assemble mess - not impossible but, in the circumstances, good enough. When he was satisfied with the physics confetti (which both had physics on them and obeyed the laws of physics - double physics!), he unceremoniously dumped the mess into the bin and grabbed another sheet. The look Peter gave him was (absolutely adorable) met with a small grin. “I was listening to those, uh, weekly language ones on YouTube while I went to sleep, so it is either not Spanish or my half asleep brain's poor excuse of it.” Sam laughed, and wow it sounded forced. Judging by Peter's skeptical look he hadn't really bought it either. What was he thinking? No reasonable human being would accept that excuse, Sam would have better chances saying he was trying to do his Spanish homework at the same time. He did have the Spanish sheet in his bag, but getting it out without Peter noticing would be somewhat difficult - maybe he can say that he kept sneaking glances at it? With his previous story, he was a lot less likely to believe this new one but- “Earth to Sam? Are you going to actually attempt the work or are you just going to daydream?” Peter's brow was furrowed yet again, and Sam swears he felt his heart rate increase this time (which is, in fact, entirely plausible). “I just can't focus here, it's too long and hot and boring and..” Sam paused his rambling, thinking up more lame excuses (no brain, saying you were experiencing vertigo was not a valid excuse but it might put a positive spin on things) “And I'm hungry, really hungry. You can't focus on an empty stomach!” Sam did his best attempt at whining - he was now a self-certified expert if he did say so himself (and he did, all the time, in his head and to mirrors), to help convey his point. Peter gave him an unimpressed look - so much for him buying it. “Why don't you tutor me?” He attempted, trying to stop the stare down. “You can make sure I pay attention and review the topics you've covered, it's win win!” Sam felt genuinely excited at his own proposal, he'd get to spend more time with Peter and if he does finally manage to bring his grades up the teachers will see they work well together. Win, win, win! (Not that higher grades counted as a win all things considered, but still). Peter, thankfully, also seemed to approve of the suggestion. “Okay, but I'm going to make sure you actually pay attention.” Sam nodded dutifully, knowing that he was hardly going to attempt to stay engaged - he knew all the stuff anyway so as long as he checked what Peter was teaching he could pretend to be struggling or have learnt something. “And you're going to do your homework!” He added as an afterthought, making Sam groan dramatically (another one of his specialities). Peter seemed satisfied with his responses, allowing Sam to leave the study session early as long as he agreed to study with Peter tomorrow. After a lot of, extremely weak, protests (he didn't want Peter to actually change the date), he agreed and made a show of running from the room. He was looking forward to the next few weeks. In maths, as they always did, they had a test, which, as it always was, was annoying. Sam, as he always didn't, tried a little bit harder than usual, which he expected to be met with praise for his improvements. Sam was wrong - as he always is when it comes to school (for very different reasons). When the teacher had handed out the results, Sam's had been kept on her desk with a ‘come see me after class’ - odd. When he did as instructed, he was asked why he cheated - Rude. Apparently, having done only slightly better than usual (he checked and it wasn't a drastic improvement), the teacher thought he had copied off someone else because, as she said ‘he was incapable of something of this ability’ - again rude. After a long discussion, because adults have discussions not arguments and Sam definitely didn't raise his voice or call her names (he did both simultaneously), he found himself with an hour long detention and having to redo the exam. Some small, petty part of him wanted to answer every question correctly just to see her come up with excuse after excuse on how he cheated this time. Maybe he used a pulley system of strings and mirrors to read the answers from the uncollected sheets of absent students? (That would be kind of cool) Instead, he sat grumbling at his desk writing dumb answers to dumb questions (most of which were incorrect, of course) and waiting until his detention was over. Fun. Upon leaving the room, he was surprised to find Peter waiting for him, until he remembered they had study - thank you universe. Sam greeted him with a grin before beginning his usual annoying and loud post-test complaints. Peter, ever the polite soul (or at least usually - his temper was impressive), let him ramble on, adding small responses and nods wherever possible or necessary. “Clearly she just hates me, I mean it's easily possible to improve that much between tests.” Sam, noticing immediately how not-extremely-retarded that sounded added on a “I mean C’mon, it's not rocket science”, perfect. Peter just shook his head, laughing slightly as he did so. He would have complained but damn if that laugh wasn't cute. It wasn't until they arrived at Peter's that he realised where they were going. After the complaints, they had moved on to talk about the recent episodes of The Flash and The Walking Dead - easily among some of the Earth's best attractions (at least half the things Sam found on this list were TV shows), so he was happily disoriented as he focused on the task at hand (babbling about cool things is a very important task, thank you very much). He almost didn't groan when Peter said it was time to study, almost. The study was tolerable enough anyway, when it dissolved into unabashed staring and blatant daydreaming while Peter excitably went off on tangents (because he just really, really loved chemistry - or so he said, about 8 times). That just gave Sam me time to appreciate what was in front of him. Peter was a really expressive person, this was even clear when he was thinking or talking to himself, and Sam loved it. He would bite his lip in thought or raise his eyebrows in surprise while working through problems on his own, each time having his mini revelations. The way his eyes would glance up in thought or he would mouth words when not speaking was (downright adorable) making Sam wonder how much he missed when his expressions were covered in red spandex. Obviously, the teen was just as expressive with his hands. Using them to count or mess with his hair as he worked things out. Just looking, it was clear that Peter was a tactile person - not that Sam was complaining (instead he was curious as to whether this was a changed caused by the spider's venom). It would make sense if this was a newfound change, as a spider's sense of touch is it's most valuable - judging by the amount the sense is used. Was Peter able to sense vibrations at all? He did have similar hairs along his skin, so it would definitely make sense for them to have the same functionality. Maybe? Peter and Sam both jumped. Granted Peter jumped first and Sam's own reaction was a result; they still both jumped. The cause of the sudden, spasm-like movement was caused by Sam touching Peter and shocking him out of his science-fueled trance, fuck. Sam's own reaction was slightly worse, the jump causing his heart rate to spike as he began to panic. 1 . 7 7 2 4 5 3 8 5 0.. Peter was calling his name, and possibly had been for a while. He'd been talking out loud, shit. “Yes?” He asked, grimacing as he heard his voice come out so weak and un-Samlike. Peter's brow furrowed in genuine concern. “Are you okay? You kinda scared me there, then you started saying random numbers, what was that?” Peter seemed to have completely forgotten about the science, or else elected to ignore it. This was two of his most endearing trait of his: putting friends first and worrying about others. He was too soft, Sam could only hope he never changed - or at least he would when he wasn't trying to talk his way out of this. “Um, er, root pi? Wait! Um, it's nothing, you just, you, you scared me and, and I, I was daydreaming and… and.. Just don't worry about it!” Sam slapped his hands over his mouth as he shouted the last few words, he never was particularly confident and he could almost feel his façade slipping. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled, once he deemed it safe to speak. Believe it or not - and it's hard not to, Peter still looked worried, though now there was a bit more confusion evident on his face. “Sam,” he began slowly, almost as though anything quicker would startle him (it wouldn't, probably), “What's root pi?” An intellectual, in the position Sam was in (how one would find themselves in that position is clearly an incredible combination of bad decisions, which seems far too shortsighted for one of that logical calibre), would not answer that question - or at least not correctly. Sam most clearly was not. “1.7724538-” he caught himself too late. “How?” Peter asked shaking his head, “Just how?” Peter showed his calculator, the number in question showing proudly on the black and white display. What followed could only be called the most one-sided game of cat and mouse. Every excuse Sam gave (from hearing Ava saying it to needing to learn it for a game - naturally all excuses were highly probable) was immediately shot down by Peter. To make matters worse, even the more likely reasons were simply disregarded because of the babbling that lead up to them from Sam's slight panic. He needed to calm down, take a breath and form a coherent lie. Sam did one better: he lay down. To perfect the action, it was completed with a brief thrust of his hands in a general upward direction and an ‘I give up’ - perfect. Now if only Peter will leave him alone so he can think of some sort of reasonable answer. Logically speaking, he should have defended one of the more plausible lies instead of backing down at the slightest resistance - not that it helped now. Of course this argument had to be against somebody as stubborn as Peter ‘I-Will-Do-Whatever-I-Want-Especially-If-You-Tell-Me-Not-To’ Parker. Even now, Sam was sure he was getting sent evil looks for not letting him get to his desired victory. Staring at the back of somebody's head seemed to eventually lose appeal, as Peter returned to his science - albeit with less vigor as Sam was reluctant to notice. The small gestures and mannerisms were unavoidable as he became more engrossed, allowing Sam to go back to watching him work through a small gap between his arms. It wasn't until Peter made a simple, yet easily noticeable (for someone of Sam's intellect anyway - which as noted earlier may be significantly lower than he originally believed) mistake that Sam spoke again. “Wrong!” He sing-songed, talking a bit more like his normal, softer tone than the one he had not so recently adopted. The look Peter gave him alone was enough to set of a round of giggles as he tried to work out the error. Obviously, Sam found out seconds after Peter spotted it - the widening of his eyes gave it away. “How did you know that, we haven't even been taught this in class yet and you're behind everyone else.” The statement was matter-o-fact, leaving no room for dumb lies or silly games. Peter's eyes were narrowed as he said this, and his tone even. All signs saying that he was done messing around and if he didn't start getting answers things were about to get stuck to walls - preferably (for Peter) Sam being stuck to a wall either until he gives the desired and/or accepted answer or until SHIELD arrive to find out what's really going on, not a very good outcome. Sam had a lot of explaining to do.

[chocolate-brownies]

Spring: the scent of apple blossoms, the chirping of birds, the riotous colors of tulips, the taste of fiddlehead ferns cooked in butter, the feel of new grass beneath bare feet—this idyllic picture is brought to you by your five senses!

To be alive is miraculous. To truly appreciate life, we need to perceive, to feel—to sense our world. We rely on our sense organs (our eyes, ears, noses, tongues, skin) to be sensitive to light, vibrations, touch, or the very molecules that make up scents and tastes and translate such stimuli into electrical signals that travel via the nervous system to areas in the brain. Those signals are then interpreted so we have fully formed perceptions.

It truly is astounding that we can communicate so intimately and accurately with the world by means of our senses. Yet we tend to take our senses for granted. Mindfulness helps us connect more directly with sense perceptions, bringing us into the present. In mindfulness meditation, by sitting quietly and attending to our breath, we slow down. We aren’t dragged around all the time by our thoughts. Mindfulness in everyday life provides an opportunity to pay extraordinary attention to ordinary sounds, sights, tastes, smells, and touches, many of which we normally overlook. Have you ever really heard your refrigerator? What does the paper in your office printer smell like? Have you noticed the bright red lipstick your coworker is wearing today?

In modern urban life, we suffer from both sensory deprivation and sensory overload. The deprivation comes partly from the narrowing of our physical environment: we ride the same bus or subway every day to work; we sit at a desk, staring into a computer screen. At night, we go home and often stare into more screens. It’s no wonder we crave sensory experiences, seeking out the best coffee, vegetables, or olive oil while we take up gardening, knitting, or cycling, or we head to the gym or the bar after work.

On the other hand, we are bombarded by the excessive sensory input that is part of urban life. Construction noise, bad air, traffic jams, crowds everywhere—we’re so busy going nowhere. No surprise that we also dream of a beach vacation with no agenda or drink ourselves into oblivion on the weekend. Politics, money, relationships, parenting, and jobs all create stress, and stress tends to deaden us and dull our perceptions. We can’t go on vacation every day or every week, so finding the space and the aliveness within everyday activities seems essential. This is where our senses can really serve us. With all the stresses and strains that we face, our senses can show us and support us in taking a more open and balanced approach to everyday life. These openings to the world are inexpensive. In fact, they freely transmit the beauty, power, and richness of the world. In times like these, let’s celebrate the senses.

Sight

Sight is the overwhelmingly dominant sense. As much as 80% of what we learn comes through our eyes. When you look at something, you may think you’re seeing the object, the thing itself, but you’re really seeing light reflected from that object (unless something is actually self-luminous, like a light bulb). We only see a narrow spectrum of light, which does not include ultraviolet, infrared, x-rays, or other wavelengths. Yet, within this narrow band of perceived reality, we have discovered planets, solar systems, and galaxies. We have looked inward at cells and molecules. We have painted masterpieces.

A mindful approach to seeing is being in the present, without judgment, and taking a fresh look at the world, one that broadens our perception. Our habitual approach is to make judgments that narrow what we see. We accept this and reject that. We like blue but we hate pink. This person is our friend, but that guy is a “jerk.” We have no idea what the “jerk” is wearing. We don’t notice how sad he is.

Or we may see the forest, the overview, and not the trees. When we’re looking for our car in a parking lot, we don’t notice the other vehicles or whether there are clouds in the sky.

Our habitual patterning often leads to pigeonholing, limiting our vision, both literally and metaphorically. But some habitual patterning is essential. Our brains organize visual input into patterns that allow us to recognize what we see. Our brains tell us that the soft red layered ball with a green stick coming out of it, emitting a sweet smell, is actually a rose.

For one moment, it might be worth seeing the petals, feeling their softness, inhaling the scent—experiencing the rose rather than simply labeling it. That’s where mindfulness comes in.

Take A Look

Stand quietly with mindfulness, with your eyes open. Don’t focus on any one thing; simply notice what is in your visual field. You see colors and shapes. You see movement, shadows, light passing across the room or the landscape. Then very slowly turn your whole body from left to right and then from right to left. Take five minutes to complete both sides. Then look ever so slowly from top to bottom, and then from bottom to top. What do you discover? How do you feel before, during, and after?

The Sense lexicon

There are many phrases in our language that reflect a connection to vision: We use the idea of “seeing” to mean much more than physically seeing someone.

Seeing is believing Out of sight, out of mind I’ll see to that we Don’t See Eye to Eye We’ll see what we can do You’re a sight for sore eyes

Sound

Sound adds a rich dimension to what we experience. It alerts us to approaching danger or a much-anticipated visit. It is a key to human communication. It delights us with music, while it irritates us with noise pollution. Sound is created by a series of compression waves that travel outward from the source of the sound. There has to be a medium—solid, liquid, or gaseous—to carry the sound waves, so in a vacuum, there is no sound. In order for us to hear sounds, the mechanical signals from sound waves are converted to electrical signals in the inner ear, which passes these along to the brain. This happens so quickly and seamlessly that we experience a continuum of sight and sound. We see and hear almost simultaneously, unless the sound is travelling from far away, as in the case of distant lightning and the associated thunder.

We react with immediacy to so many sounds: toast popping up in a toaster, the bing of a text message, a police siren, or the shock of the “breaking” news of the day.

We may be largely unaware of habitual sounds in our lives. Do you hear your feet thumping on the stairs? Do you hear your shower while you’re in it? Do you hear your fingers tapping on a keyboard? We can learn to sleep through traffic noise, human voices, and the sounds of wind and rain. Yet we will awaken quickly if the baby is crying.

Sound is also a very emotional medium, evoking both joy and sorrow, in the music we listen or dance to. Turn off the sound to a TV show and listen with subtitles, and you’ll realize how important sound is to your emotional experience of the show.

Now Hear This

We can learn to pay more attention to the soundtrack of our own life. Take a sound walk, where you focus on what you are hearing. Find a place to stop and listen to sounds with your eyes closed.

When you are feeling anxious or stressed, mindfully listening can help you to connect and relax. At work, find a quiet moment to close your eyes and listen to the sounds around you: computer humming, people on the phone, sounds of workmen hammering across the street.

When we have a conversation, we mainly pay attention to what a person is saying. Try listening to how a person is speaking. Are they speaking slowly, very quickly, loudly, softly, in a high- or low-pitched voice? Listen to how they pronounce words. This is an exploration of communication, not a judgment of good and bad speech.

TIP: Keep a sense journal

Journaling about your senses encourages you to be more aware of them. When we pay extra attention to sensory experience, we also begin to uncover the psychological connections with our physical feelings. Keep a five senses diary. Make a daily entry of one experience of each of the five senses. Note any emotions they evoked in you.

Taste

Taste is a direct sense: You can’t taste the vegetables in your garden from the porch. The veggie has to go into your mouth. Adults generally restrict tasting to the food they eat, but infants will put almost anything in their mouths. Taste is obviously an important tool of learning, one that we have to restrict for the child’s own safety. The tongue can identify five basic taste groups: sweet, salty, bitter, sour, and savory. Other tastes that we can identify include metallic, watery, and fatty. Because of an intimate connection between smell and taste, when we smell a pie cooking in the oven, we can almost taste it. The texture of food has more to do with the sense of touch on our lips and in our mouths than with our taste buds. So our experience of taste actually combines several senses.

The Sense lexicon

Our language around taste is exceptionally diverse, perhaps because we have five distinct taste groups.

Savor the moment Variety is The Spice of Life The bitter taste of defeat My mood has soured Worth your salt In poor taste

Taste Life

Wake up your taste buds with these two exercises

1. Slowly eat four very different foods, such as a nut, a noodle, a piece of lettuce, and a spoonful of ice cream. Close your eyes, if you like. Try to discriminate the textures as well as the taste. Can you separate the smell from the taste? Or do you have a unified experience of tasting something, combining these senses?

2. With an attitude of mindfulness and appreciation, go to a wine tasting, to an olive oil store, or to a tea or coffee shop. Sample and savor the wine, the olive oil, or the tea. Or host your own mindful tasting party.

What’s in a Flavor?

We usually think of “flavor��� as a product of our taste buds. In truth, many flavors arise from a unique blend of smell and taste through chemosensation—a fancy word for our body’s ability to synthesize chemicals into specific smells and tastes. These sensations begin when molecules are released by various substances, which stimulate special nerve cells in the nose, mouth, or throat. Olfactory (smell nerve) cells are stimulated by the odors around us, while gustatory (taste nerve) cells react to food or drink mixed with saliva. These cells transmit messages to the brain via the olfactory and gustatory nerves, and from there our brains identify flavors.

Smell

Smell operates across space—you can smell coffee brewing across the room or the smoke from a fire miles away. To produce a smell, a substance must be volatile enough to spray microscopic particles into the air. Molecules travel through the air into our noses, where five million receptor cells reside. They trigger impulses to the brain’s olfactory bulb.

Smells warn us, telling us that something is burning or that our food has gone bad. Smells also delight us, bringing us the scents of each season: newly mown grass in the spring or mulled wine in winter.

Smell can also reach across time, connecting us with the past. As Helen Keller wrote, “Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.” The nose transmits information about smells via the thalamus to regions of the brain involved in learning and memory, which may explain why odors are so evocative of former events.

Follow your nose

1. Diane Ackerman wrote that “when we give perfume to someone, we give them liquid memory.” Mindfully smell different perfumes with your eyes closed, either in your own home or at a store.

2. Put a small amount of various loose teas in glasses or small bowls. Close your eyes and smell each sample. You can do this with other foods and drink. Try wine or single-malt scotch. Or some herbs and spices.

3. Take a scent walk. Visit a garden or a forest where you can literally “stop to smell the roses.” In an evergreen forest, can you distinguish between pine needles, fir, and juniper?

The Sense lexicon

More than with the other senses, metaphors relating to smell often have negative connotations.

That stinks The Sweet Smell of Victory Wake up and smell the coffee Reeks of favoritism The stench of failure

Take a Sniff Down Memory Lane

Here’s an exercise to help unlock the connection between smells and memory: Make a list of 10 events, places, and times in your past. Then, while sitting quietly, contemplate how they smelled. Can you remember the smell of your grandmother’s kitchen or her garden? Do you remember the smell of the train station the first time you took the train? When your children were babies, how did they smell when you snuggled them? When you were growing up, do you remember how your dog or your guinea pig’s cage smelled? When you contemplate these times and smells, what other memories or emotions are evoked?

Touch

Touch, like taste, is direct. You can’t touch a piece of paper across the room; you can’t feel pebbles in your shoes when they’re not on your feet.

When we touch something, receptors in our skin transmit information via the nervous system to the brain. Our fingers, hands, toes, and feet are particularly sensitive to touch, yet we feel things in every part of the body: an ant on our calf or a hand on our shoulder.

Our bodies depend on touch to help orient us in space and to guide movement, whether walking, running, or swimming. Without a sense of touch, we would have a difficult time drinking a glass of water. How would you know when the glass touched your lips if you couldn’t feel it?

Feel Your Way

Mindfully explore your sense of touch with these three exercises:

Hands

Touch familiar everyday objects with your eyes closed. Take your time. What does a book feel like? What about a door? The doorknob? A spoon, a teacup, a paper napkin.

Feet

Mindfully feel the texture and temperature of rugs, tile, wooden floors, and other surfaces in your house. Outside: Feel the grass, the sidewalk, sand in a playground or at the beach.

Body

Focus on how water feels in the shower or a bathtub. Feel rain or snow falling on you. What does wind feel like?

Illustrations by Whooli Chen

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