#no but fr fireworks are dangerous

[class-jester]

Remember to be careful with fireworks this new years!

Alt ver under cut

[ran-orimoto]

The naughty ponentino

[ Italy miraculously scored at the 97th minute, I published a new Junzumi one-shot after MONTHS of struggling at uni and, consequently, in writing as well. Tbh I didn’t feel that fine in the first part of the year and my self-esteem paid the consequences of the tour down the hill my uni life took for months. You know, you go badly at uni, you will be attacked by parents and relatives everyday, you will get poisoned by all the mean things you hear and you will lose your self. But I’m healing, guys, slowly but I am. Junzumi and my trash about them has been giving me a great boost in recovering a part of my confidence. So…Enjoy this long story, fruit of my STRUGGLE, also because, like I said on AO3, this has been a writing struggle fr real. The amount of drafts I wrote before coming to a decent result could fill a sea!]

Context: This is set during the infamous roman trip Izumi intends to drag everyone in, after having turned Junpei’s suggestion upside down. It’s the last day of leisure in Rome and Fate tricks Izumi again. ]

• Il ponentino malandrino •

“Izumi-Chan? Izumi-Chan, are you sleeping?

…

She had decided to follow the wind in a place where it could have never entered. And yet, that was what had happened: it had managed to slip in a crack of the entrance, had chased her with the trails of its gusts, had sat by her side just to whisper words she, as only human on Earth, only creature in the universe, eventually interpreted and understood…Clearly. Then, after it had succeeded in distracting her from something she wasn’t minimally interested in, it had left, diving into a river turgid of notes and quickly swimming upstream.

Every wind had its own personality, she had learnt as time had passed by. There were sweet breezes that would punctually help her fall asleep, if she chose to leave the window opened at night: chilly and able to spread goosebumps on her skin at their first touch, but provoking those while giving her motherly kisses to reassure her, make her relax, calm the tornado whirling in her chest down. Sometimes, on a break from her photoshoot sessions, she would receive visits from an adventurous scirocco telling her about those seas and shores over which it had passed-by on its warm wings; those exotic corners owning sands shimmering like minuscule, precious stars stranded on our planet. At other times an irritated mistral would come to vent, seek comfort from its favourite shoulder, a bit shy at first, hiding below her curtain of wheat threads but ending up throwing them in the air, one after one, not having managed to control its anger.

And lastly, there was the naughty roman ponentino from her childhood memories, the place she believed it had sneaked in to fool her, to abandon her right at the moment she needed its support the most.

Confused, speechless, shocked…Thunderstruck.

Che cosa ho fatto?! Che cosa ho fatto?!

After having been hit by a lightning, a tree will stand still below the tension of the sky, peeved, until the creaking noises coming from inside its trunk and corroding its fibers force it to curve on a side and make it collapse on the hard ground.

What in the world have I done?!

Izumi petrified as well, but as soon as she felt her back rocking back and forth on its own, she tore up the roots her feet had anchored her to the floor with and tried waving her limbs. They felt weird, numb, like if she had stayed in the same position for an eternity, a tingling sensation reminding her of those little pops fireworks will leave after having exploded in the firmament.

Fortunately, she didn’t need them at the moment. Indeed, she wished for them to remain in that useless state until that spectacle, whatever it was supposed to be technically called, ended. She shouldn’t move, not even breath. Any minimal shift, even the uncontrollable ones of her chest, might lead her to unpleasant consequences, danger. If her palm had perched on her large grimace, concealing its guilt but leaving a small edge exposed, there would it have to stay; if her knees were pressing against each other, they would have to keep on doing that until time began flowing in the whole Teatro dell’Opera again, no matter if bones crackling against each other were one of the most repulsive feelings ever, in her opinion; if her other hand had landed on her skirt, pinching not only its tissue but also the flesh of her thighs, it would have to freeze in that painful nervousness until it was given a signal of stop.

In a nutshell, she would have to totally turn into a pillar of salt, one which, -who knew, she fantasized with shame-, could be disintegrated by that ponentino of her boots, if it came back to assist to the great finale of the orchestra’s performance.

Only her eyes were allowed to swing as much as they pleased, on alert, high allert just like they were supposed to be, occasionally venturing in the meanders of an artificial night to find a stout silhouette slightly leaning forward, round shapes of elbows puffing up on the marble of a sill.

Motionless, engrossed in the frantic escaping of the violins, the relentless rush of their bows, the terror of the chords being urged to keep on running, never looking back at the cumulonimbus advancing behind them.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Izumi’s mouth opened in surprise and she felt her figure disobeying to her steel orders at once, coming back to life, straightening, fully turning in that direction, in his direction, so she could take a better look at him and boggle. So much effort thrown away in the immediacy of a reaction that had skillfully evaded the supervision of her legendary, -beh, in the past it used to be, before that day-, control.

Suddenly, at that sight of utter nothingness welcoming her, she felt disgruntled. Her orbs got squeezed by a very accentuated frown that descended on their contours and unloaded all the weight of its annoyance on them. As paradoxically as it might sound, it was easier to believe some merciful entity, -Fairymon, might it be you?-, had landed on the big clock above the stage and had put a whole minute back on it.

It was easier, much easier to sell that lie herself than believing Junpei hadn’t noticed.

How could she, especially if she recalled all those recollections of hers featuring him listing a series of details about her, which not even she had ever acknowledged to own before? Special fragments of hers only he could grasp, such as swabs of impalpable colour that would bounce behind her, whenever she tossed her gilded strands down her back with an elegant movement of her palm. She had glared at him back then, had also been on the verge of slapping him: to be honest with herself, he had really begun spitting the biggest idiocies, since she had revealed about the motley filter enhancing her surroundings, her days, wherever she might go.

It is…Just impossible, She gave another suspicious glance at him, an eyebrow getting stuck in its arched form as she reluctantly returned to her right, to that column and the elegant bollard attached on it, the only source of frail light she could reach out to in the hope of clearing her mind. As soon as she let the dim halo of its ray embrace her, she felt like punching herself. Actually, it finally dawned on her that was what she had been looking for. That was the chance she had been praying for, the solution to her problems, so there was no reason to feel so upset, so dissatisfied; there was no reason for that pout she had worn without even realizing to exist.

Accepting it was true he hadn’t noticed, he hadn’t felt anything implied she could pretend she had never done that as well. After all, nobody had seen her doing what she had in the thick darkness, there was no one who had witnessed her mistake, there was no camera that had taped that instant. In conclusion, there was no proof of that, except those obnoxious electric ants still crawling on her skin -but they would go away sooner or later, wouldn’t they?- and her still fresh memories making her toes curl at their continuous circling, -but even when it came to them, someday they would turn into nothing more than the remnant of a hallucinated lucid dream, wasn’t that so?-.

Instead of smiling at that idea, though, she clenched her jaw while ruminating about that possibility, afraid of taking that step forward despite being aware it would free herself from so many unnecessary concerns and pains.

Where are you? Why did you escape?

Where had the wind gone? Where? She wasn’t used to filling her head with so many doubts. She didn’t like thinking and getting lost in the maze of her questions, without a guide leading her from up above.

…

“Izumi-Chan? Izumi-Chan are you sleeping…?” Who knew for how long she had been running in that imaginary garden with no destination, if he ended up asking her that. “Izumi…Izumi-Chan? Are you?” In the thick shadow of a theatre box, Junpei’s voice, the chirping of a well-fed robin begging for more crumbs from the railing of a balcony, sounded like being hopping in her ears like the sticks thumping a drum.

“Do you happen to often ask a sleeping person if they are sleeping?” Having got further from the bronzy glow with a hop of her backside, she couldn’t make out where he exactly was, how closer he had got to her, but there definitely was something quite large hovering near to her nose. It was performing slow rotations and pulling away whenever it accidentally grazed the waves of her ruffled hair, as if it could sense the imperceptible shivers running on her bare shoulders.

“Uhm, now that you ask me, I would get pretty angry if someone did that to me. I don’t know what I would do if you happened to be that person, though, Izumi-Chan,” She didn’t feel like adding a word to that externalization of disarming naivety, so she limited herself to internally sigh while continuing listening to his clumsy blabbing, to those sections of its’ he was muttering more to himself than her in a very silly monologue. What in the world was he talking about? He was the only one knowing that! “I would open my eyes and think I’m dead or something because an angel has woken me up, ah ah. Or a mermaid! Because Izumi-Chan’s voice sounds like a beautiful song even when she’s just speaking, ah…”

“Junpei…!” Her tongue suspended in incredulity, she searched for a part of his body she could pat on to fish him out from that swirl he had been trapped in. In the span of less than five seconds, he had dragged her to such levels of exasperation his name had come out from her mouth way too loudly. Predictably, to her utter shame, some old man blending in the indefinition of their surroundings punctually sent her a very bothered warning through a long hiss.

“Eh, someone is in urgent need of a chamomile,” Junpei commented with a snort, unaware her fingers were floating some millimeters distant from his arm. How many other times would he be fooled by those jokes the blackness had been pulling at him?

“Oh…Look at what you have done!” A laughter bursted in her vacillating conscience confirmed that she wasn’t going to aim her gaze at that direction ever again. “It was already embarrassing enough to hear you asking me if I was sleeping!”

“I didn’t want to embarrass you, I’m sorry, Izumi-Chan,” She could picture him shaking his head at an increasing pace, his lips probably protruded in a childish mortification. “But, you see, I was worried you had fallen asleep because it would have meant you had got bored.”

And she had to confess he wasn’t that wrong. It was the first time she had gone to the theatre and…Well, she wasn’t really enjoying it that much, if she had to be sincere with herself. To someone like her not being able to stay at a desk and focus for more than thirty minutes, without fiddling with, -for example- ,the zip of her pencil case or making her feet stomp on each other or, again, just contemplating the poetic scenario out of the window, that was resulting to be a struggle. Having to sit on a chair with no support surface in the vicinity was making her feel so restless, making her want to stand up and give kicks in the air. Yet, what was even more tedious about the situation than that that there was…Nothing in front of her. Just people in soulless elegant clothes playing instruments and repeating the same actions over and over again; people whose appearance wasn’t even that distinct, as Junpei hadn’t only got a back luck not finding opera tickets, but he also had had to settle for a theatre box confined to the extreme right of the large area, isolated in his misfortune from the rest of the audience.

Chissà, Like a flyer fluttering through the roads of a big city after having avoided to be torn by a darting car, a cautious hypothesis got thrown out from the incessant, vicious tornado that had generated in her stomach. Her curiosity was quick to pick it up and eagerly read its daring content, even quicker to mold her wince of resigned perplexity in a sly smirk. Maybe I did that out of boredom…

Only when other freed leaflets began crowding her mental space, polluting it with paper scribbled with baubles, rubbish, did she remember she had a bizarre conversation to keep going. Her interlocutor had been in standby mode for a considerable while, but he predictably reanimated without complaints or silly exclamations, -more fitting for him!-, as soon as her attention shifted on him again. He could have waited for a reply, a sign of life from her for hours and hours, for all she knew.

“Why would you get that worried about it? There’s no need.”

“There is, instead. I am the one who invited you to come here.”

“More like you convinced me with a magical trick,” She felt so stupid while attempting to mimic the skilled oscillating of his index, vividly viewing it in her fresh memories from back when they were in the foyer. He had showed, indeed, had put his ticket on display, like if it was a precious possession, a new member of his collection of accumulating bits and pieces.

…

…

More or less, an hour before

That nagging silver tongue of hers ,which had previously pestered him with so many futile platitudes, was refusing to collaborate with her: it had holed up at the door of her throat, inert, obstructing the passage of her voice, of whatever she could say to fill that silence of hers.

“Junpei…”

She just believed it wasn’t fair he had to be the one always getting let down by events he couldn’t control. If it had been oddly refreshing to have been the one having bad luck for once, having had to wave farewell to her afternoon of leisure, it would have been even more than that if she had been the only misfortunate one for once. She would have been laughing about it all, instead of being taciturnly staring at the young man in front of her who was pretending not to be caring in the least, reading the content of a booklet out loud in an unlistenable italian. He could annoy her even in such an unpleasant circumstance!

“Let’s see…Anutonio Vui…Varudi. Vi…Vardi?”

“I-It’s Antonio Vivaldi,” She managed to formulate a coherent sentence only when she spotted a man holding a broom, a couple of elders sitting on a sofa, the receptionist behind her desk, all those people who had been minding their business in the foyer suddenly stopping what they were doing to look at them. Everyone, no one excluded. She could feel their curious, malicious eyes checking them out from any direction, all the attention of the Teatro dell’Opera on them as if they were a pair standing on a stage, below the spotlight. That was even worse than the moment their plane had landed in Rome and he had started singing a Nel blu dipinto di blu at the top of his lungs. Every passenger, -again, everyone! She had turned to give a glance at the the rows of seats behind them!- had begun commenting about the scene with mean-spirited observations, obviously pointing not only at him, but also at the distressed girl by his side who had eventually been affected by that euphoria because of…A weak immune system?

“Didn’t you say you are a fan of classical music as well? It doesn’t seem so.”

“I really do, Izumi-Chan, but I play piano, not violin.”

Nonplussed, she analyzed that genuine smile extending from a side to the other of his face, those glimmers of joy sparkling in his irises like honey on a little spoon. He had just heard that his last chance to watch an opera spectacle in Italy had gone up in smoke, that there were no tickets left and he was acting like that? She was aware each person’s reactions to disappointments weren’t the same, but he wasn’t looking disappointed in the least. That wasn’t possible, that was just…Inhuman.

“Izumi-Chan…?”

“Has anyone ever told you it’s okay to make a scene, mope, yel-,” She cut herself short with composure, changing the trajectory of her speech by slowing down with a single toe on the brakes. Words were supposed to be pondered while talking to him! “No, yelling is absolutely not okay, especially to someone like you. But you get what I mean, don’t you? I know you were truly looking forward to watching…What was his name? Rossini? It’s understandable you are feeling sad. I would too, so there’s no reason to pretend you are not.”

“Well, I did care about watching that spectacle, but things have gone the way they have. There’s nothing to do about it,” He shrugged, imperturbable, readily tweeting that nonchalant answer without a moment’s hesitation. That swiftness and undeniable frankness made her jaw softening its clench. Then, however, Junpei began growing stiffer, uptight, abruptly averting his gaze and puckering his lips as if he wanted to whistle. His irises flew away to nestle in some hidden tunnel in the ceiling, whereas hers swooped onto her top, their eyelids feeling hot and humid as she blinked over and over again to discern the outline of a pair of slopes, of their borders trimmed with lace.

She had picked the best outfit for a stroll in the old town, had turned her trolley upside down to test every possible combination of styles and palettes in front of the mirror. When the crew had seen her stepping in the hall of the hotel, enwrapped in a dress woven with the white of serene clouds, the boys had awed at the simplicity of her elegance. Overcome an initial phase of astonishment, of gulps that were more audible than his struggling attempts to say something, mumble a few words, Junpei had rambled about how she resembled a refined main heroine from those old black and white movies set in Rome.

She hadn’t been able to react the way she had intended to, taken aback by his lingering stupor, by all those hints making her understand he truly believed she was as graceful as an actress picked by Fellini and there was no one who could ever deny that.

Thus, the more she had echoed that bold comparison in her mind, the more she had found herself liking it, getting into character for fun and making the others exchange baffled glances. The preview of the incoming scenes had looked fascinating. On curtains appearing from nowhere and rolling down the sky to obscure the blinding Sun, she had marvelled at frames of her sitting before the Trevi Fountain, teasing its ripples along with the wind by wiggling her fingers just above them, gasping at its foam’s fog moistening the folds of her skirt.

In the end, in her reality, everything she had on, from her straw hat to her sandals, from the twine of the row of buttons, which broke the monotony of the whinteness, to the empty gap between her loosened belt and her flat belly had got wet, indeed, soaked under a petty summer shower.

Her life could be considered as a film just like Junpei had underlined, but he had evidently made a mistake about its genre: she wasn’t that sure about which it might be, though. In which kind of movie would the main character stand in front of a best friend of hers’, blushing furiously, embracing her chest with a protective gesture, despite having ascertained the worst hadn’t happened and he apparently wasn’t avoiding her spheres because of a matter of decency ? In a cheap one without any doubt, the cheapest ever shot in decades.

“May I ask what in the world you are thinking about so intensely? Allora?”

She didn’t expect him to go back to her so fast. Those thoughts of his he seemed to have no intention to reveal must have got to the roof at that point. Nevertheless, bolts aren’t supposed to return to the roaring expanse they have been hurled from. When they had deluded themselves the sky looked so near it might welcome them back thanks to a prodigy, they had been sent back to the ground, forced to discharge their thrilling, devastating energies on whatever or whoever they had happened to strike. There was no possibility to transgress Mother Nature law’s commandments.

“Uh, about a bit of this and that,” Evasive at first, seemingly confident he could escape from her by making his pupils tiptoe away, he was ambushed by a belligerent blast of ponentino abruptly barging in. It opened both the doors of the entrance with a rough slap and caught him in its implacable current, effortlessly sweeping his spirit, as resistant as a boulder just like he was, back where it was supposed to be. The temporizing Junpei had no choice but to surrender. He had to speak. “I was telling myself that if there is nothing to do about it, it means I will play along with it.”

The Moon of his Cheshire cat grin rose and reflected its mystery over the agitated waves of a green sea. That time it dropped an object that was as light as a feather and trusted those crystalline depths with its extreme fragility.

Once face to face with a very familiar building and its even more familiar porch, Izumi couldn’t keep herself from grabbing, or better, trying grabbing the ticket. Actually, showing to own rather snappy reflexes, Junpei’s palm promptly pulled away from her sight to make her grip grasp at nothing else but thin air.

“Ah, ah, ah, if you touch it, you will spoil everything,” He shook his index in comical disapproval, making her clasp her hands in delight at the realization of what she was assisting to: in spite of that sibylline admonition, the haughtiness suddenly enveloping him, evoked by a pose holding a bizarre kind of sloppy grace only someone like him could emanate, his emphasized tone reminding her of a narrator telling children about a scary wolf eating people in one bite were just unmistakable. “You mustn’t do that, eh eh,” And add those naughty chuckles to the picture too, because he was a particular amateur magician laughing about his tricks even more than his audience usually would.

“Ok, then. What do you want me to do?” Just like when they were kids, it took not even a second for her to get excited about what he had in store, feeling like clapping in merry anticipation and almost forgetting she was in a place swarming with strangers.

That time it seemed Junpei would need her full concentration. He didn’t really give her any explanation about what he wanted her to do, but she could guess the whole magic was going to revolve around that ticket. There was no card she would have to pick from a deck, no meaningless ritual formula at whose rhythm their tongue would have to dance at the unison. Only that ticket, wrinkled because of his fidgeting and sweat. Why was he so nervous? He should have known she wouldn’t be disrespectful in his regards, if the result of his spell wouldn’t be what he was desiring it to be like, if that poor, crumpled ticket remained there and, -who knew what he was planning!-, didn’t get replaced by some flower and its lilac petals.

Obviously, they would be lilac: after seven birthdays united by the memory of lovely boxes adorned with huge lillac ribbons and presents manufactured by him, each of them being painted with the hues of early dawns, she could recognize he knew what her favourite colour was.

Though he hadn’t told her to do so, she spontaneously closed her eyes and breathed in a sweet scent only she could smell, because carried by gusts blowing from the far land of a dream.

Meanwhile, too focused on his immense feat, Junpei made the ticket swing from right to left and viceversa at an increasing speed, movement those trembles provoking spasms even in the core of his chest didn’t luckily hinder.

“Ok…Now you see a ticket,” She heard him chanting in a way too theatrical fashion, but his intonation, along with those consecutive stresses hopping from a syllable to the other, soon grew persuasive enough to build a crescendo of hype in her body and soul, a tenuous formication marching on her whole frame with muffled steps, as if she was made of snow. “But nothing is what it seems. If I make the ticket come here and go there, come back here and return there, you will get to see what your eyes couldn’t until now. And…Sorupuresa!”

Sorpresa.

She wasn’t disappointed not to have been greeted by a violet at her awakening, but she didn’t react at what Junpei had called surprise in his butchered italian with one of her, Commozione!

“Eh, eh,” Junpei wasn’t either. Indeed, he had apparently predicted the failure of his special effects and the final result, putting on the mask of an imperturbable jester to try covering his awkwardness in vain. “Surprise, uh? Surprise might not be the right term to use. It’s not like you are into this stuff.”

Unbeknownst to him, to those bleak fantasies his negativity was burdening his cheerfulness with, Izumi had just been left lost for words. She fairly gave him the wrong impression she was vexed with him, so repulsed by his game, terribly pensive, but ,actually, she wasn’t thinking about anything substantial because her brain had turned a blank sheet, a tabula rasa. Therefore, she limited herself to gingerly reach out again, this time being allowed to touch the ticket, or better, that second ticket which had materialized from nowhere, and free it from the weight of Junpei’s thumb.

It was a copy of the first one, its twin. They were identical with the same title in bold , the same photo of the outside of the theatre, the same scarlet background reminding her of a red carpet, the same frame edged with golden which gave them an aura of unexplainable, sophisticated preciousness, -no matter the miserable state of Junpei’s-.

It was so obvious.

“You bought another ticket for me.”

…

…

Still, for some reason, her statement had sounded more like a question, confused and diffident, ellipsis opening a window to let her discover what else the wind and the leaves ,with no destination just like her spirit, wanted to tell her.

“I wonder what I would have done, if I had messed that up again”.

She landed back into her present with a thump. The recollection of those loquacious gusts she hadn’t got to listen to mixed with a rumble she couldn’t understand where it might come from at the beginning, disrupting the carefreeness of a Carnival of pink and azure but never physically showing up to crash the party. The thunderstorm was as chatty as them. It wanted to talk to her and it had a lot to say too, though she wasn’t used to its booming, to translating its roar into a human language without having to ask it to repeat it.

“Uh?”

“My magical trick. I’m glad you liked it because it has been the first time I have succeeded. At home I tried with some pens. Maybe it was too long as an object to practice with and that was why the duplication never worked as it should.”

In a strong dejà-vú, in the vice of some kind of cursed time loop, she abruptly shook herself out of her physical and mental torpor with an involuntary twitch of her fingers, paper rounded edges peeling against their tips. After having attempted to reproduce that hectic sway, determined to find out what was the ingenious mockery behind that stunning enchantment, -How? How had he managed to do that?!-, her ticket had wilted, had grown soggy like a biscuit dipped in milk, its side eaten by her sticky touch.

“But oh! Wait! Why would I say something so embarrassing in front of Izumi-Chan?! Ah…! I-I hope you liked it, Izumi-Chan…”

“Shhh, Junpei! Perfavore !” She would have added so much more to that sibilant scolding just to ignore and suppress another unmistakable guttural hiss slithering towards them, making its way avoiding the low yet heavier musical phrases. Anything not to begin feeling like shrinking in her chair, not to die of embarrassment. Ehm, it was more appropriate to call it second-hand embarrassment! Because she wasn’t the one who had been bothering that man with her incapacity to adjust the volume of her voice!-.

“I’m so sorry, Izumi-Chan! I did it again.”

If only there had been more light; if only she could have found his face as easily as she had…A while before: she would have seriously stuck a whole fist in his mouth! In the absence of valid alternatives that could give her such a sense of satisfaction, she had to settle for squeezing that unlucky ticket as hard as she could, frozen in the expectation for a debacle of historic proportions, a heated discussion in the middle of a violin concerto.

But, needless to specify, the fire never broke out, no door ever opened behind them, either. The old man obviously, -and fortunately-, mattered more about listening to the melody of a melancholy winter than wasting that cathartic experience arguing with two foreigner who had no respect for the miracle music was to human life. Most likely, he had cooled his anger with a huff, had glared at her, - so he believed he had, at least-, for a last time and had faded in the inscrutability of the blackness once more. Izumi didn’t calculate how long she had been sitting still, but when her body began complaining about that unnatural immobility, she melted that general tightness right away. Unless the man was struggling to take off one of his shoes without being able to see where he was exactly putting his hands, she could sigh out of relief, certain her reputation would be safe and sound.

Look at what kind of trouble I will get into because of you!

She had survived to the storm. Again. Still, may that be the last time it happened!

“That man should know better. It’s rude to tell a woman to shut up,” And speaking of which, Junpei’s indignant grunt and the rustling of what clearly sounded like shirt sleeves being rolled up sturdy arms were surely going to bode ill. Her resolution to cherish that fluke by not throwing it away in the span of a single second like that was so impetuous, as much as a hurricane, the impact against his shoulder and something else he instantly snatched away occurred without her having to grope in the dark.

“Now, now, where were we? Ah right, the magical trick,” She was pushed downwards along with the sagging of his muscles. A hint of tension, however, still lingered within them. She could sense it under her palm, a rigidity that was in stark contrast with the softness of the area, closer to the inflexibility of bones than the malleability of flesh. So precisely, carefully in detail. It almost felt like she could describe that feeling because it was changing her own body to the core; because it was more hers than his. Perhaps, it felt both simultaneously due to those pins and needles irradiating from him to her. Again. Right when they had finally started vanishing like she wanted them to! “Well, to be honest with you, I would like it better ,if you explained me how you did that.”

“That wouldn’t be fair, Izumi-Chan. A magician never reveals his greatest tricks. He’s just like a chef never divulging his secret recipe.”

“This isn’t fair, either!” It dawned on her Junpei had never turned down a request of hers until that evening. Once, even more incorrigible than usual, exploiting the fact they had remained all alone to rattle on an avalanche of pointless stuff, he had stammered he would give her the Moon as present, if it was possible, because he could tell how intriguing and marvelous it was to her. If she still had Fairymon’s wings she would set off for the night firmament, he was so right. Back then, she had just given him a nudge right into his stomach and had walked past him, unable to find a worthy continuation to his foolishness, feeling so…Small, minuscule just like she would before the magnificence of a full Moon, totally unsuitable as object of that overbloated admiration.

And yet, he couldn’t give her that, couldn’t whisper in her ear where that ticket had been hiding before coming out in the open. How stupid was he! And how stupid was she too, following that train of thoughts without refusing to. She got the confirmation in a place where sight was mostly useless, her other sensorial perceptions seemed to have really been boosted, especially the ones tied to her conscience’s roaming.

His chirping could ring in her ears differently as well, like the vibration of a robust cello wanting to weave stories about an endless spring retaining hints of wintry reticence here and there.

“But ,you know, if I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to give you an exhaustive answer. I really don’t know how I managed to make it. It’s not like I don’t remember, I just don’t know what I did that was so different from before! My hand went here, then there, I followed the script like always and, puff! The tickets were two and I was as baffled as you looked”.

“I-I wasn’t expecting you would give me a ticket,” She admitted with faint awkwardness, obviously omitting -it goes without saying-, the unnecessary detail of the flower. While she was absently rolling some ruffled locks, that sticker left on the tall pile of her thoughts was whirling like them and progressively losing its petals one after the other, new butterflies surfing on the waves of the wind; of the galloping ones of the ponentino.

Suddenly, there was a shift.

To the audience of the theatre it was the one of the clock hands, their overlapping on a glowing number announced by an imperceptible clicking sound; the cessation of the music represented by the gentle thud of the first violin in the crook of a velvet arm; the unearthly silence. To her, instead, it was that mischievous blowing and the goosebumps it brought along, thar bouncing brush of her hair against her skin, that whiff of laughters tickling her lobes.

And, again and again, Junpei’s ever-changing voice, distant, so distant, from the chanted poetry of the winds of the world, but still greatly appreciated by them. That was what was her orbs could see, the only beings standing out quite crisply in the last minute of the illusion of the night: lively puffs of air dancing around him like virtuous nymphs.

“I know you weren’t. I wasn’t as well, in a certain sense ah ah. I told you. Maybe, it was because you were there. Yeah! I didn’t make a fool of myself thanks to you. I’m sure of that,” Firstly his pitch got lower, much lower, almost making him sound like someone Izumi didn’t know, then, all of a sudden, completely surpassing an intermediate level, it shrank into the squeaking of some dog toy. Izumi’s teasing sarcasm and its arrogance risked to be crushed by that elevator.

“T-This might be the most original, nonsense excuse I have ever heard.”

“No, Izumi-Chan. I would never lie to you, it’s the truth. I just thought about you, about how I wanted to spend…Yeah, the conclusion of this holiday with you, because I had so much fun visiting the Colosseo in two, trying that special gelato from that cafè, tasting yours, letting you taste mine as well, chatting with you in the hall of the hotel before going to bed. I wanted more of that but I had given up, until you were caught in the storm and you seeked shelter below the porch. I thought it was sign of Fate! Now, though, I’m afraid I’ve been selfish... With you here, this has been better than any Rossini I might ever listen to, but it hasn’t been to you. You would have preferred going to the stadium with Takuya and Tomoki or to the museum with the twins. I-I-“

While he had gone through half of that week the crew had spent in Rome, she had let herself be taken back in time along with his gab. Dragged to all those memories, to all those chances to watch opera Junpei had thrown away to stay with her. The first late afternoon the group had split, that moment each of them had agreed about the impossibility to satisfy everyone’s interests and wishes, she had spotted Junpei carefully reading a poster attached to the glass of the bus shelter. Once he had heard her approaching him, he had turned to her and had asked her about where she intended to go. Like that, with a large grin, without further questions and second thoughts, he had tagged along with her, no matter where she had planned to head for. As long as he was with her, -he had said among sheepish chuckles-, he would be happy, words she had quietly made slip by with a shrug as she couldn’t see any harm in letting him come along, especially if she considered she would have been alone if he had had other plans. Junpei might be noisy and more often than rarely he would make her wish she could hide her head in sand like an ostrich would, but he could offer a nice company at the same time. A very enthusiastic one�� She had no doubts those memories they, only they shared still felt alive in her heart because of that overemphasized excitement of his latched on them: his yells joining hers in their cacophony to cheer for Takuya at the stadium; the extinguishing fire of the Sun inflaming the ruins of the Colosseum and making his spheres shine so intensely as the rays bathing a summer day; the delicious taste of that long spoon filled with pistacchio e cioccolato he had made easily slide between her lips; all those conversations about this and that she could perfectly remember, the fresco of the bustling Rome in background looking more vibrant, a riot of colours, at her occasional glances.

She had been happy too, she had enjoyed herself as if she was a solitary drop of ponentino, mocking herself but also smiling at herself at her own motley trails guiding her decisions.

“There is a door behind us,” She breathed to Junpei who had got further from her to clap the violinist and the orchestra. “If I had got that bored, rest assured I would have used it.”

The night came to an end, but she took advantage of the lingering penumbra offered by the dangling red drapes. Hidden below them, blending in the thunderous applause of the entire theatre, she shortened the gap between them by getting closer and closer to him. Then, she leaned forward, stretched her neck and…She did it.

She placed her lips on his puffy cheek. Just a little peck on his soft skin. It lasted longer than the first as she was no longer scared by that electrostatic energy bursting in her whole body, without prior warning, darting through her veins and nevers to elicit every millimeter of her organism. Yet, it still was as fleeting as a butterfly perching on her favourite flower and taking off immediately afterwards, before someone could catch her.

Thus, she parted from him. And she noticed it, indeed, them.

“Izumi-Chan, what is it?” When the curtain closed, he raised an eyebrow at her, once more incredibly oblivious to what she had just done.

“Oh nothing, nothing…Non è…Niente.”

“What does it mean nothing?! You are-“!

…

Two lilac butterflies. There were two lilac butterflies on one of his cheek. The pair of the first outstretched on the one of the second looked like the petals she had been daydreaming since she had stepped in that theatre.

She might not be the great actress he believed she could become, but she undoubtedly was a fantastic magician, as fantastic as him, with secrets she would never reveal.

Or so she thought, at least.

XXX

Italian notes:

•Ponentino: it is a wind typical of Lazio and Toscana, very frequent in Rome. It is considered as a naughty stronger breeze blowing over people in love to act as a matchmaker ahaha.

• Chissà: it’s a sort of “who knows”, very mischievous in some contexts.

• Antonio Vivaldi: Composer from Baroque age. The violìn concerto Izumi and Junpei are assisting to features Le Quattro Stagione (The four Seasons). The story starts when the orchestra is playing Estate, (Summer), which has got a movement echoing the dramatic dance of a thunderstorm.

• Nel blu dipinto di blu: It’s a song by Domenico Modugno, the VOLAREEEEE cementing a part of our identity as a country loving music.

• Gioacchino Rossini: One of three Belcanto opera composers along with Bellini and Donizetti. Rossini is a very particular genius of our lyrical panorama. His music is brilliant, witty, so funny, I can see Junpei enjoying it very much.

• Allora? : It’s a kind of “So?”

• Fellini: Federico Fellini was a film-maker, one of the most important in the whole world. Some of his masterpieces are La Strada, which we fondly remember along with its soundtrack composed by Nino Rota, 8½, and, dulcis in fundo, la Dolce Vita to which I’ve given a very small homage in my own style lol.

• Cioccolato and pistacchio: Simply chocolate and pistache ahahahah.

[elysianavenue]

songs that remind me of genshin characters

aether: soldier, poet, king - the oh hellos (venti clearly sings it for him duh)

lumine: two birds - regina spektor (it's about her and her bro (':)

amber: touch the sky - julie fowlis (please it s c r e a m s amber)

kaeya: iris - the goo goo dolls (ik it's a romance song but i lowkey picture him singing it to his bro im sorry)

lisa: dangerous woman - ariana grande (need i say more?)

barbara: sisters - radical face (give this girl a sister of the year award rn)

razor: on melancholy hill - gorillaz (he was raised by wolves)

xiangling: what baking can do - jessie mueller (she cooks lmao?)

beidou: wellerman - nathan evans (she's a pirate it makes sense ok)

xingqiu: paperback writer - the beatles (mans writes fanfiction cmon)

ningguang: national anthem - lana del rey (i'll tell you you're my national anthem mommy)

fischl: control - halsey (i can't explain this one it makes sense to me tho)

bennett: world's smallest violin - ajr (he definitely will blow up into smithereens at some point)

noelle: teenage dirtbag - wheatus (HER NAME IS NOELLE-)

chongyun: lemon boy - cavetown (chongyun is robbie and xingqiu is lemon boy oop-)

sucrose: rät - penelope scott (i honestly just hear her voice lol)

jean: oh no! - marina (she do be after success)

diluc: alive - khalid (daddy issues by the neighbourhood was too obvious)

qiqi: the blue wrath - i monster (again, it's one of those songs i hear and homegirl comes to mind)

mona: a sky full of stars - coldplay (her entire personality is astrology sorry)

keqing: unworthy - vancouver sleep clinic (this one might only make sense to me so i won't bother explaining it)

venti: golden slumbers - the beatles (ducky told me to put this one for venti)

klee: wrecking ball - mother mother (this should make the most sense, damn little menace)

diona: my alcoholic friends - the dresden dolls (no one hates alcohol more than this girl)

tartaglia: cherry bomb - the runaways (he deadass listens to this on repeat, prove me wrong)

xinyan: i love rock n roll - joan jett & the blackhearts (self explanatory)

zhongli: good riddance - green day (ducky also told me to add this song)

albedo: the moon will sing - the crane wives (wasn't he abracadabraed into existence or something? lmao)

ganyu: brutal - olivia rodrigo (it's ok ganyu)

xiao: can you feel my heart - bring me the horizon (lil emo boy)

hu tao: dead! - my chemical romance (im convinced she'd commit homicide to keep the funeral parlor in business SORRY LMAO I LOVE HER I PROMISE)

rosaria: take me to church - hozier (she makes me wanna go to church oop-)

yanfei: cool kids - echosmith (little nerdy lawyer chick you're cool trust)

eula: who is she ? - i monster (fr tho who is she)

kazuha: softcore - the neighbourhood (this should make sense to everyone no excuses)

ayaka: reflection - lea salonga (YOU ARE THE PERFECT DAUGHTER BB)

sayu: dreamy night - lilypichu (SHE'S LITERALLY THE VOICE ACTRESS AND IT FITS SAYU SO WELL COME ON)

yoimiya: firework - katy perry (do i need to explain?)

sara: i'll make a man out of you - donny osmond (show me what dreams are made of general kujou)

raiden: you should see me in a crown - billie eilish (she's my queen who can step on me any day)

kokomi: gilded lily - cults (it can't be easy being a high priestess :()

thoma: rainbow connection - weezer, hayley williams (specifically this version)

gorou: soldier - fleurie, tommee profitt (another self explanatory one)

itto: seven nation army - the white stripes (it's just him singing honestly)

yun jin: treacherous doctor - wallows (it makes sense after her hangout event)

shenhe: graceland too - phoebe bridgers (another i think it only makes sense to me)

yae miko: bubblegum bitch - marina (mommy-)

ayato: son - sleeping at last (he do be a son)

yelan: don't threaten me with a good time - panic! at the disco (MOMMY-)

shinobu: anklebiters - paramore (her singing to the gang)

heizou: hayloft II - mother mother (this one is more based off a headcanon)

collei: sweet hibiscus tea - penelope scott (give this girl a hug rn)

tighnari: marigolds - early eyes (my fav botany connoisseur<3)

dori: million dollar bills - lorde (stingier than mihoyo)

candace: ancient dreams in a modern land - marina (just listen to it. candace.)

cyno: the other side of paradise - glass animals (i just hear him singing it. it was originally poker face by lady gaga LOL)

nilou: footloose - kenny loggins (nilou is basically bella thorne in her shake it up era no disrespect)

nahida: fireflies - owl city (another it just makes sense to me but also i highkey imagine her jamming out to this and scara is like ???)

layla: tired - beabadoobee (get some sleep girl you deserve it)

faruzan: people i don't like - upsahl (oh she very clearly doesn't like a lot of people)

wanderer (scaramouche): i would hate me too - tx2 (HE WOULD SO SING THIS THAT LITTLE EMO ASSHOLE. an honorable mention would be emo legendary by the voice of scaradouche himself, patrick pedraza)

yaoyao: honey - derivakat (ik the song was aimed at tubbo but come on yaoyao gives this vibe as well)

alhaitham: saint bernard - lincoln (the biggest alhaitham vibe ever don't tell me otherwise)

dehya: team - lorde (*cough* mommy *cough*)

mika: scrawny - wallows (lil stinker)

kaveh: no surprises - radiohead (alhaitham if you won't give him a hug then i will)

baizhu: body - mother mother (just do his story quest)

kirara: hello kitty - avril lavigne (...self explanatory...)

lynette: tourner dans le vide - indila (okay yes a romance song but if you squint it's just about a girl who would do anything for a male she loves and in this case lynette is someone who would do anything for her brother whom she loves)

lyney: mad hatter - melanie martinez (seriously. do i need to explain this one.)

freminet: rises the moon - liana flores (my actual favorite character of all time)

neuvillette: ocean eyes - billie eilish (mans is hydro man with pretty blue eyes i had to pick this one im sorry)

wriothesley: wires - the neighbourhood (THIS MAN HAS ME ON A FUCKING LEASH. ahem. sorry im gonna go touch grass right now and call my therapist.)

charlotte: watch what happens - kara lindsay (god i love it when things just make sense)

furina: the ballad of mona lisa - panic! at the disco (you're really gonna look at me and tell me that i'm wrong?)

this is the playlist on spotify 👇

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5puQ0xhZv1MrwZ8TyAMkde?si=6wlgE48iTtGH-V_Ld19DfA

[newsworthy-rust]

There are people setting off fireworks dangerously close to my house so I'm going to blast baby shark out the window for a bit. Taking other song suggestions fr

[feminariden]

Finished the volume and arc yesterday and it was pretty good 👍

I have seen a lot of people claiming this is the chapter where it gets "really good" and while I don't see a huge jump in quality tbh it's definitely better than Katana arc at least, Reze is a geniunely a pretty interesting character and memorable female main villain, in a shonen of all thing;, we get some good development on our fave loserboy Denji, along so spicy sideplot for Aki and Angel, along with Makima and Beam slaying fr

Best part had to be the date with Denji and Makima tho, sorry Reze but your insane firework adventures don't compare to makiden crying together

And speaking of that i'm kinda let down by Reze as character, for how hyped she is by the fans i expected her to blown my mind by good writing but once I finished this arc i was just like "eh, that's it? This is the character hundreds of guys hated Asa for months", all in all...... she was kinda of a bitch, her reaction to being rejected by Denji is arguably the biggest crazy yandere incel i have seen in the series until now and didn't really felt bad for her when Makima and Angel found her, and speaking of that is it just me or Makima stopping Reze from pulling her trigger similar to when Reze did that Denji?

Makima def saw that so she's just avanging him in the eviliest way possible, but hey, she is the one who tortured and betrayed an innocent boy who trusted her, so I don't really care either way

She has her motived and sad backstory, which got waaaaaay less explamation than expected but I guess it's not super necessary rn to say what's going on in Russia of all countries, but still i didn't feel that.... emotional about her, i'm more interested in Katana Man and Sawatari comparated to her even if they are way more flat than her

That said, i do like her, her relationship to Denji is pretty good and it'a cool.how the "school" motif pops so often with her from the start right to her death

She poses herself as Denji's "life teacher' but when she dies she admits she never went to school either, i think she wants to be seen as and teach Denji how to be the only master of themself and a free warrior but in reality she is another trapped guinea pig who doesn't know shit about the world just like him; after all, her animal motif are rodents which is something even she is aware when she says she prefers the "country mouse", but in her last moments Makima breaks her bubble and say even the country mouse will get brutally killed by dogs in his "safe" farms, Makima is the top dog but Reze will always remain just a little lab rat, all her attempts to escape her fate and live an happy life will always lead to a brutal karmic death

It's certanly a sad death for her, specially when she was just starting to experience what real freedom tastes like thanks to Denji, I appreciate the parts in the dates where Reze criticized how PS has been treating him, but she almost seem unsure about that, saying she has been thinking really a lot about that, while a normal teen would have jumped to the conclusion that Denji's situation is Fucked Up, she is starting to change and see that her being a living weapon isn't that much better than being a slave, while Denji never does stop to find out if Reze is right or not, he's just happy things are starting to get "better" with his work, cool contrast between our villain protagonist Reze and her unchanging DMPB Denji where they never find a compromise, arguably you could say Reze was the real city mouse trying to live in danger for a chance at freedom while Denji is the country mouse who only wants to stay in his "safe" PS family

And speaking of Dennis

Mh

Uh

This guy got carbonized and still forgives her for every crime she committed and proposed to escape together because "he liked her", I feel like he and a bunch of Reze fans didn't get the memo she is a actually merciless war veteran and not a sexy tehe ^_^ young girlie, but I guess Dennis thinks way too much with his dick and we just have accept that 😑

As for the art and fight themself, this arc was sooooooooooo funny, I don't think CSM really worries about making great fight scenes but Fujimoto KILLED it here, everything was HYPE AS HELL, Aki, Angel and Beam were Epic, and Bomb Girl is soooo badass and scary, but also very funny, her powers are goofy and nosensical like her little headless walk lmao, she can make explode everything she touches including herself to a comic but extremely entertaining degree, she turning her body parts into bombs made of fuses (her clothes are also made of fuses which is neat detail) is such a cool ability too, it feel like Bomb Girl never ran out of surprised and that Fujimoto is expanding his vision for action scenes with campy fantasy elements, def a good ride

All in all, can't wait to buy next volume

Halfway throught Vol 6 now and i'm basically in the heated middle of Bomb Girl's arc, I know more or less where it's going but this arc surprised me enough i want to wait to finish it before disclosing any full opinion on Reze herself in particular, because i gotta say, it's really not what i expected

Reze herself is far less sympathetic than the fans made me believe, and way less competent too, as spy i mean, as warrior/enemy she's freaking OP, but for good reasons, she feels like a stronger Katana Man but without team and complex plan to cover her back, and speaking of that even if her plan to get Denji is just.... eh at least she has the power to fight half of Japan's PS without any problem, and speaking of that, it just came to me how so many devil hunters seems to treat devils like regular criminals and not like the supernatural entity they are, even Reze commented on PS needed permission to shot to a fucking devil! I guess there is some commentary to hunters being either weak or crazy idiots, but it also seem like Aki, Kishibe and Himeno were the only humans with some competence behind them, Kon is catching Ls tho

Denji has been kinda MIA for now and Power has become less relevant than Kobeni (and she was the ONLY to be spared by Reze probably for how pathetic she seemed lmaooo), but now he has woken up he is doing interesting stuff again kinda?

Again, waiting the end of the arc for him too, but I think Reze has taken the part of the (villain) protagonist of this arc but we are seeing it with Denji's eyes

As for the new devil/fiends interoduced, Princi has yet to do anything, Violence has not done a lot too but he's hilarious so I forgive him, Reze complimenting him when his Super Kick failed was oddly nice, Beam is the goat and much smarter than he looks, he knows shit no one else does and I love it, Angel issss ok? Himeno replacement nothing too special about him yet, more competent and hard-working than he gives himself credit for

Aaaaaand that's it for now, let's see how it ends

[userhobi]

there's a part of the wildflower music video where namjoon looks like hes surrounded by falling embers. that wasn't CGI, it was real 😯

(one, two)

[bumpscosity]

I wanna see my dragons I wanna wish them a happy new year staff let me innnnnn

[earlgreytea68]

(4) In between being young and being right, you were my Versailles at night (from Fourth of July): Several little moments of genius in this line. First, the juxtaposition of being young and being right. You usually think of “right” as being paired with “wrong.” Here, Pete twists it by putting “young” in there, and that can make you read “young” as equaling “wrong.” We were young, and so we were wrong.

At the same time, though, the phrasing is ambiguous. Maybe “young” and “right” are in opposition to each other, at opposite sides of the boxing ring, and in between the two, facing off against each other, you were my Versailles at night. But it could also be a thing you are simultaneously, like saying “in between my classes and my extracurriculars, I ran to Starbucks.” In between being young and being right, both of the things that I was, there was you, in the middle of it all. Maybe you were never wrong at all. Maybe you were young, and you got it right. That’s the thing about a Pete Wentz lyric: Maybe it’s both at once.

OR maybe there is you when I am *neither* young nor right, when I take a break from them, when I step aside from them. Maybe I am the oldest I ever feel when I’m with you, and maybe when I’m with you is so wrong, and when I’m young, when I’m right, I know this, and then there’s you. MAYBE IT’S ALL THREE lol.

And I haven’t even started on the second part of this, which is also several layers deep. There’s a way in which it’s just a straight-up sexy thing to say about your love: At night, you were my Versailles. Ugh, it’s so romantic, it KILLS me. Part of me thinks, Marry the man who says this about you, it’s just a killer line.

BUT ALSO IT’S NOT, oh, Pete Wentz, it’s so sneaky. Because on one level: You are his palace, a legendarily beautiful palace, full of beautiful things, prized and cherished and beloved, that’s what you are. But you know what else Versailles is? A symbol of depraved, corrupt excess that was the eventual downfall of the family that obsessively lavished all their time, attention, and money on it (and that of their country). Again, maybe you’re both, the way Versailles is. Undeniably beautiful, gorgeous, beloved, the very best that could be had, a symbol on the one hand of the sort of refined and elegant life that is impossibly, incredibly rare. And simultaneously sinister and dangerous and oppressive, far too unearthly a thing to actually last. (except that it has, of course, and you can go and see it today, but it’s different, it’s not the same, the small talk of torture with someone you used to love)

AND THEN: The lyric doesn’t actually say “At night, you were my Versailles.” Granted, it helps it rhyme to put the “at night” last, but also it makes “at night” an ambiguous modifier. Is it “At night, you were my Versailles.” Or is he talking about Versailles *at night*? As in, “all the time you were the way Versailles is in the nighttime.” Versailles at night is pretty spectacular, there are fountains and fireworks out in garden. Maybe you’re not just Versailles, you’re Versailles at its most beautiful and mysterious and alluring, it’s most impossible to resist, and maybe you are that Versailles *all the time,* and then this isn’t a line about sex, this is a line about, “This is what you are, in the spaces beyond youth and rightness, you’re my Versailles at night.”

And, one thing I haven’t mentioned yet, but Versailles was a home. A pretty spectacular home, but a home, a place where people lived, a place where *a lot* of people lived. And maybe there was a lot of intrigue and backstabbing going around Versailles, but at night -- at night maybe it was just a home for some people, a cozy room, a bed with the person you wanted. Maybe you’re the coziest part of the world’s most imposing and beautiful building, the part that only the most special people get to see of Versailles, that most intimate time when everything is shut down and the tourists go home, *that* part of Versailles. You’re not the front-facing, bustling part, you’re the part that’s quiet and still and all that luxury and beauty just for us. You’re one of the most beautiful things in the world, at the time where the only one who gets to see it is me. You’re that.

Okay, maybe marry the man who says that about you, after all. JUST KEEP AN EYE ON WHAT MEANING HE MEANS AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT.

[bigb-enthusiast]

OK SO LIKE UHM UH

READ UNDER THE CUT FOR THE INFODUMP (IM SORRY BUT NOT REALLY SORRY)

BASICALLY WITH JOEL ANS REN IN 3L THEY BOTH WERE ALLIED DUE TO DOGWARTS (wolf bros fr) BUT THEN JOEL BETRAYS REN DUE TO A DEAL HE MAKES WITH SCAR BUT YK ITS SCAR IT DIDNT WORK OUT BUT HE STILL DID CLAIMING HES A “lone wolf” AND THEN REN TOOK JOELS FINAL LIFE…THEN WITH JOEL ANS SCOTT WITH THEM ITS. HUGE DUDE. ITS HUGE. THEIR RIVALRY GOES BACK TO KINGDOMCRAFT AND THEN IN 3L THEY JUST…AUGH ITS SO JSJC JOEL WENT ON RED AND TRIED TO KILL SCOTT ANS BURNED DOWN SCOTTS WALL AND WHEN SCOTT ASKED WHY JOEL SAID “ohh i just wanted somerhing to burn like i did. Like my house did” AND SCOTT FELT PITY SO HE SWORE TO PROTECT AND BE THERE FOR WHEN JOEL IS IN DANGER. SO WHEN JOEL WAS SENT TO JUST TAKE DOWN HEALTH WITH HIS DOG ARMY EVERYONE ABANDONED HIM BUT SCOTT BUT HE DIDNT KNOW THAT SO REN KILLED HIM AND FELT BETRAYED BUT HE WASNT AWARE SCOTT WAS TRYING TO VE THERE TO GET THERE TO PROTECT AND HELP ANS SAVE JOEL ANS THEN THIS TRAVELS TO LL AS JOEL ALWAYS WENT FOR SCOTT IN SOME WAY BUT NOT MUCH THEN JOELS PERMA DEATH HE WAS KILLED BY SCOTT WITH THE HELP OF REN ALSO. THEN IN DL HE FELT EAGE TOWARD SCOTT EVEN JUST BUILDING A CROSSBOW THAT SHOOTS FIREWORKS JUST TO KILL SCOTT. THEN IN LML HE GOES FOR SCOTT A LOT BUT IN HIS FINAL EPISODE HE GETS KILLED ABOUT 4 TIMES BY SCOTT. 3 ACTYALLY BEING KILLED(1 being his perma death) WHILE ONE BEING A TRAP BY SCOTT YK. SCOTT “BETRAYED” HIM AND JOEL HELD ONTO IT. HES HELD ONTO IT GOR EVERY GAME. FOR EVERY SERIES. KINGDOMCRAFT CRAZYCRAFT XLIFE TRAFFICLIFE EVEN ESMP1 HES JUST DISLIKED SCOTT AND ITS SO SO SO INTERESTING…THEN ALSO IN ESMP HERMITPIRES CROSSOVER REN MAKES A TRADE WITH JOEL BUT HE DOESNT LIKE IT SO HE SAYS IN THE NECT TL HE WILL KILL JOEL AND JOEL QUOTED HIS LINE HE SAID IN THIRD LIFE OF “the red king dies tonight fellas!” AND TIS SOOOO INTERESTING SCOTT AND JOEL ARE DEER WOLF DUO OF THE WOLF TRYING AD TRYING TO KILL THE DEER BUT THE DEER FIGHTS AND KILLS THE WOLF WITH ITS ANTLERS.

ALSO IN LL HIS FINAL LIFE HAD BEEN TAKEN BY THE TWO PEOPLE HE HATED THE MOST.

what’s everybody’s like, dream life series team up if we get another season? ideally dynamics we haven’t seen before, but also i recognize the allure of past teams lol.

mine would be skizz and bigb and maybe jimmy. we saw like, a glimmer of skizz and bigb’s dynamic in third life, and the compliment skizz gave him in lim life not only called back to that but the whole interaction really solidified me that i’d LOVE to see them work together. i would love to see a team of the two people least willing to kill people in a death game. they just mesh so well. i throw jimmy in as a maybe because 1. he would also mesh with them very well and would bring in a little extra chaos 2. if this team up happened i would NEED people to pay attention to them and jimmy would help with that, lol 3. jimmy has consistently lived as long as he had every season due to the help of his allies (see limited life especially). if we want to keep this curse going skizz would be WILDLY unhelpful in keeping jimmy alive and bigb would be helpful but there’s only so much he could do on his own. it would be great.

[asgardwinter]

Who Needs Electricity?

summary | When the power goes out, Loki learns about your fear of the dark and uses a few tricks to make it better.

pairing | Loki x Reader

warnings | Loki being cute and supportive (he is a warning), basically pure fluff

word count | 790 (I got a bit carried away)

author’s note | guess who is coming up with another blurb and ignoring the fact that my long one shots aren’t going to write themselves… (this is completely self indulgent and I don't regret it)

Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Taglist | Main Masterlist

The lights were on in a minute. In the other everything went dark.

Things like this were not supposed to happen at the compound, with almost everything being automatic. But still there were you, standing in the middle of your room. In the dark so you couldn’t see anything that was around you.

You knew the fear was irrational. The same old furniture you could see while the lights were on continued to be there, the only presence in your room besides you. But rationality and fear don’t walk together that often.

Being trained to stay alert at every circumstance and to rely on your senses wasn’t a good combination with sight deprivation. Every little echo felt twice as dangerous as it actually was, so the noise of the door opening made you jump and turn in that direction carefully.

Not even ten minutes and you already felt exhausted from being on the edge.

“How can Stark not think about having a lantern supply in this location? Such a pretentious little midgardian…” You heard his complaint.

Loki’s presence made your heartbeat slow to what was closer to a steady rhythm, the small ball of light above his right hand increased the bit of calm.

“Darling?” Loki asked, noticing your lost gaze on the light.

You finally processed the information. “No flashlights? Really?” But your voice gave away the fear your eyes tried to hide.

“Stark says this shouldn’t last for too long, he’s going to see if there isn’t anything wrong with that generator of his.” Loki guided you towards the bed, sitting and taping the spot on his side for you to do the same. “What’s wrong, love?”

You grabbed his left hand and held it firmly.

“It’s the dark.” You whispered looking at a spot behind him, ashamed of admitting it. “It… I just don’t like it.”

Loki squeezed your hand even more to show you support, to show you that he was there with you.

Until all of a sudden he smirked and the light disappeared from his hand for a mere second. It was enough to make your other hand grab his forearm and your heart to pick up the previous pace, like it was trying to run away from your chest.

But it was only for a moment until you were pleased with the prettiest sight.

Fireworks. Beautiful and tiny fireworks.

The colours, the light and how delicate they were took your attention from everything that was around you. It was only you and the little explosions. And Loki. He was smiling wide at your astonished expression but you were too focused on his magic to notice it.

“How do you do this?” You whispered, waiting no answer. “It’s so beautiful.”

“I have my tricks, darling.”

“I’m sure you do, love.”

You continued to stay there on your bed, seated quietly while you noted every detail of the explosions and Loki admired the glow in your eyes.

“My mother used to do this to me when I was a child.” Loki began to explain and you looked curiously at him. “I’m pretty sure I looked at them exactly like you are doing right now.”

“I’m glad she teached you this and now you can show me. It helped me a lot.” You told him softly. “You help me a lot.”

Loki only kissed you in response. Slow and lovingly, no long but enough to make your heart speed up, only it wasn’t for fear this time. When you breaked the kiss, forehead against his to stay close, you smiled seeing that the fireworks didn’t stop.

He pulled both of you to be laid in bed, hands still together. The fireworks disappeared from his hand and multiplied on the ceiling of your bedroom, lighting up the place and hypnotizing you even more from such beauty.

“Who needs electricity and this fancy technology when I can make us a little show?” Loki bragged, making you shake your head holding out a laugh that would only raise his ego.

“It'd be easier if you just used your magic to light up the room.” You teased but didn’t tear your gaze from the fireworks.

“I thought you knew I’m way more classier than that. I’m feeling insulted by your idea that I’d settle for such a basic skill.” Loki blurted out in a joking tone that made your laugh escape. The fear was forgotten and his mission accomplished. “And now you learn that there are beautiful things in the dark. Just wait until I show you the stars.”

“Loki, I know the stars.” You said, confused by his comment. “I’ve looked at them all my life.”

“I’m not talking about your stars. I’ll take you to Asgard to see them.”

[violent-plant]

Y'all here's the tea about fireworks

- the chemicals in them harm humans and pets

*copper(blue)- linked to causing cancer because of the dioxin

*barium(green)- used as a type of poison and is radioactive

Other dangerous heavy metals/chemicals in fireworks

*Cadmium, lithium, antimony, rubidium, strontium, lead, and potassium nitrate

All of what I just listed cause respiratory issues which we don't need more of

- they contribute to environmental pollution

Not only is this because of the waste they leave behind its also because of the smoke they leave too which can result in AIRBORNE ARISNIC

If you are in the valley like I am and have traveled at all you know the second you leave you can finally breathe especially during the week of the 4th of July

Again not only does it effect your air it effects your water for miles. It has been proven that the chemicals and metals in the firework itself contaminates water in the air and on the ground

- your neighbors could have sensory issues/auditory issues

As someone who has very intense auditory processing issues fireworks are a absolute trigger for everything.

-your neighbors might have respiratory issues

Another thing that is very close to home for me. Even the smoke off of others yards sets some peoples asthma or other respiratory issues off.

- fire!!!!

Idk if im the only one but I really don't want to set my yard or house on fire

No but really they are super fire prone and idk about u I don't think anyone really wants to set shit on fire and get finned/arrested.

Fr guys please be mindful of your neighbors and the eco system so before you strike the match think. And if you really need your fireworks Disney has been doing research/has engineered more eco and human friendly fireworks. I know Disney isn't super accessible to most but just please be mindful and maybe make it a big thing to see fireworks instead of an annual thing.

[reversecreek]

✵ zloane , bravier , nyla and sean

ZIGGY & SLOANE

their first impression of your muse:

sexy. tugged on her hair literally the first time he saw her hadn’t even had a conversation bt was just like target? located. going? ✈️ annoy her. probably initially just thought she was only at the skate park bc sean was n was like 🙄 then she cld actually skate n he was like 😏 liked that she gave him shit. found it funny pushing her buttons. liked her eyes. probably was like wtf is in the fuckin water in this town yo why all my friends got hot sisters that shit aint right tryna make me a dog....... not that he was even. phased by betraying those boundaries bt. still. i won’t lie his main first impression was probably jst damn bit hot when she glares at me like that. KJHFSGKSJHGKGHSFKGH

current impression:  

knows her a little more than he likes to know people. favourite person to argue w. can possibly skate better than him bt if she said so he’d be like “ur off ur fuckin tits man” n then practice secretly on his own for hours that night n get 9457295 scrapes. doesn’t like talking abt her dad like him so one time he put a firework in his mailbox n never admitted it was him. has reactions to youtube videos tht make him snort. quite funny in general rly. drinks a lot not that he can judge it’s just sometimes he notices n once he even snatched her cup n drank the rest so she couldn’t. played it off as their typical fuckery bt he isn’t sure what that feeling was. hasn’t been concerned often enough to know it by name. finds her hot at inappropriate moments like when a movie chara’s dying n he’s meant to be sad. finds her hot when she pisses him off too. thinks mayb she likes the excuse to hold onto him when she rides on his vespa but he kind of likes it too so he’s not about to call it out bc “he isn’t about that deep shit”. 

are they attracted to your muse?:  

KFJHGKJGHFGKFHSGKSHGKSFGH. imagine i was jst like no <3... yes. he likes to act like he’s less so than he is bt it’s obvious.

something they find frightening about your muse:

i wouldn’t say it frightens him bt sometimes he catches her looking at him a certain way n it unsettles him but he doesn’t know why. usually just pretends he didn’t catch it.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

he likes her short hair he’s always ruffling it n tugging on it. whenever she hs bumps n scrapes n bruises from falling off her board n getting back on over n over again jst never giving up or giving a fk. when she acts like she isn’t jealous.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

umm. no. he’s an asshole. KGJSHFKGHSKFHGSKFGHKGH. sighs.

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

no..... sees that as dangerous territory wouldn’t wna blur the lines. looks away.

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

baddie. FKGJHSKGHFGSFHGSKGHSFKHG. demonic (when they’ve had a fight). 

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. he loves to argue w her but it never feels that Real u know... more like flirting. even when they’re rly pissed off. wld never enter that territory he hates shit like tht w a passion. cue round of applause from the audience for this absolutely low bar.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

i feel like they’re not rly huggy people...... ziggy probably puts his arm around her a lot tho he loves doing that. hs kissed her more times than he can count too n doesn’t plan on stopping

BRADLEY & XAVIER

their first impression of your muse:

funny. mean in a more digestible way than she was used to. he had barbs n she liked the way people winced when they tried to swallow his company. when she got paired w him for a class project she met his eyes across the room n he didn’t quickly look away like most ppl. something abt that intrigued her. a sharp fingernail inside her head kept having to itch at something n she realised it was the urge for him to call her a bad name. this weird craving to hear an angry word inside his mouth just for her. she used to think that’s what someone wanting her was like. still does sometimes. this both pissed her off n caught her attention which is a bit of an accomplishment fr someone who gets bored by everyone n everything.

current impression:  

his heart’s more good than she expected. it felt a bit like having a cat drop a dead mouse at ur doorstep that u don’t know what to do with when she realised that. she felt uncomfortably like her mother when she couldn’t get out of his bed bc she was too depressed n that rly made her feel like. ill honestly. he did all the right things but suddenly she just felt sick abt the whole situation which is Not the normal reaction to ur bf caring about u but bradley doesn’t understand ppl caring abt her. felt more like pity. she thinks he’s better off. she misses him sometimes bt then she reminds herself she doesn’t miss people. does a good job of believing it. one of the best ppl she’s dated not that she’d say it.

are they attracted to your muse?:  

yes..... ws probably. unhinged n rabid when they were dating. very good at hiding it now however. cold at the drop of a hat.

something they find frightening about your muse:

that he witnessed her being vulnerable............ literally grosses her out so much like she’d rather die than. anyone see her like that. when they were dating she’d get paranoid her dad wld somehow find out too n smthn wld happen to him for it. it ws definitely weird for her like the fact she even cared enough to consider tht.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

adorable is rly not a word that fits into bradley’s vocabulary GHSFGHSFKGHSFKG bt hm. maybe if he ever tried to tell her what to do one time even casually. she’d b like awww..... u think i do what anyone tells me? that’s so fucking sweet. 

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

in most cases no :/..... however if it was smthn to do w the guys that work for her dad then ya she’d put herself in danger to avoid him being in it.

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

i mean she has in the past bt bradley’s idea of dates is like. starting a bar fight together. getting thrown out of a club n both falling over into trash cans in a dingy back alley. stealing a car. breaking into a random house n fking in a stranger’s bed. fking in the bk of a movie theatre w a horror movie screening. definitely not dinner or anything like tht. she wldn’t now........ they’re not exactly in a place fr that..... 

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

ex. whatever. i know it’s not one word but “some guy”. FGHSKGHFGKSHG >_>

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no. she’s a violent person bt not xavier.

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

NO hugging...................... she fronts like she wldn’t kiss him bt like. if a discussion got heated n they were in each other’s faces who’s to say. 

NYLA & SEAN

their first impression of your muse:

strange little fella which is a very high compliment. kind of reminded them of an animated turtle come to life in the human realm altho they honestly don’t have an explanation for that it’s just the way their brain works. they love the turtles in finding nemo tho so maybe there’s some sort of correlation. very nice face. they kind of wanted to hold his head like a bowling ball just so they could examine it properly. i feel like when they first met him they probably reached out n smoothed a sticky label onto his forehead that said ‘catfish in chernobyl’ n they had one on their forehead that was blank n then they just wafted a pen mid air n were like ‘wanna play guesses?’ even tho that isn’t the name of the game. as if that was just. a completely normal introduction to someone. FGKHSKHGSFKGHSFKG. feel like sean wld have rolled w that tho so nyla was like :P i like.... if they played another round they’d give sean another sticky label that said ‘the loneliest whale in the world’ n then it’d start a whole conversation abt how nyla thinks they can speak whaleish. (whale spin on elvish). 

current impression:  

sean makes them think of that artificial blue raspberry flavour some popsicles have n how it’s always rly fun when they stain ur tongue. sweet n exuberant n leaves a bright impression. he lets them ride on his skateboard sometimes rolling along being lead by them holding his hand n nyla likes to shut their eyes like they’re a bird sailing above the clouds. one of their favourite things to do especially when the sun’s out. bc of this nyla thinks sean was a bird in his past life but not a greedy one like a seagull or a plain one like a pigeon. maybe a bluebird bc of his eyes. he makes them laugh a lot. they entrusted him to babysit their children (as pictured) in his hair for a whole day and night once n they had lots of fun with him so nyla thinks he’s very trustworthy and kind. he also is rly easy to talk to like they cld randomly be like “i’ve been thinking lately that maybe homer simpson could’ve been a good figure skater” n sean wldn’t look at them like they’ve lost their marbles he’d just go w it. they like his company a lot.

are they attracted to your muse?:  

😏

something they find frightening about your muse:

ummm nothing in particular altho one time when they were rly tripping out bc his eyes are blue n it got them thinking abt the ocean n they always think they can talk to ghosts underwater so they were kind of like. thinking abt ghosts whenever they looked him in the eyes. maybe covered their own w their hands n if sean asked why they told him abt it. suddenly he shut his eyes to make them feel better n it turned into a whole thing where nyla had to lead him around the party like a guide dog.

something they find adorable about your muse:  

his nose. watching him talk to his siblings. his hands.

would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?:  

😌 yea

would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic:  

yes............ feel like they’d have fun if they went anywhere tbh........ cn imagine them at a fair eating from the same cotton candy n chattering as they point out things. nyla trying to do that hammer game where u make the meter reach the top n lifting the hammer in the air n falling backwards bc it was heavier than they anticipated.... sean yelling like man down man down..... mayb they take a tab n suddenly the fair is so scary they’re like 😳 we’re in danger...

one word my muse would use to describe yours:  

silly (affectionate). sailor (also term of endearment). gnome (same thing again). cool.

would my muse slap yours if they could?:

no ur sick....

would my muse hug/kiss yours?:

ya to both. jst suddenly had a vision too of nyla being cold one time n clinging to sean from the front like a bushbaby in a hug as he carries her around. suddenly this mode of transportation hs happened more thn once (godmod) (contact my lawyers if u dare bebe) (bitch) (i take it back) (it wasn’t right alli it jst wasn’t right) (pelase forigev m eim shakign)

[purfectprincessgirl]

Tagged by @stealthlord , where I have to list the first 10 songs shuffled on my iTunes playlist. Soooo-

1. “The Point of No Return” (Phantom of the Opera soundtrack)

2. “Since U Been Gone” (Kelly Clarkson)

3. “Dangerous Woman” (Ariana Grande)

4. “Red Like Roses Pt. 1” (RWBY volume 1 soundtrack)

5. “Unleash the Magic” (EQG: Friendship Games soundtrack)

6. “Rewrite the Stars” (The Greatest Showman soundtrack)

7. “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” (Fall Out Boy)

8. “Firework” (Katy Perry)

9. “Set Fire to the Rain” (Adele)

10. “Telephone” (Lady Gaga ft. Beyoncé)

————

Tagging: Mostly who ever else wants to try this on their own too, go on ahead 👍

[storyswap-color-au]

StorySwap Color - Final Episode!!!

Swappy arrives at the castle once again. The puzzles were already solved, so there’s no need to do those again. Once they’re at the throne room, Swappy and Papyrus encounter once again… That is, until a bone blocks Papyrus’ to prevent it from breaking the mercy button. Sans comes into the scene, being all like “alright, here’s the deal: we aren’t gonna kill anybody.” Papyrus is both surprised and glad by Sans’ appearance, HE CAME TO VISIT!! The two skeletons have a back and forth, until Undyne bursts in holding a spear and is like “SANS DON’T YOU DARE HURT PAPYRUS– Oh hey kid”

Swappy waves, and Sans is understandably confused by this, but Papyrus is like “UNDNYE AS WELL??? IS THIS A SURPRISE PARTY???”, to which sans replies with “yeah bro, we’re celebrating the kid’s birthday” “I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS THE HUMAN’S BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY HUMAN!!!”, Undyne frowns. Then Asgore kicks in, concerned over the well being of Papyrus (and Swappy). Sans and him share a look, but Sans shrugs it off, he winks and says “hey, no hard feelings, ‘gore, i’m over it.” Asgore coughs, he’s like “Papyrus. Please give this human.–”

But he’s suddenly interrupted by chara, who bursts into the scene as well, being all like “Don’t fight each other!! Let this human live!!” somehow avoiding all tsundereness about it, Asriel also appears to back it up. “YEAH don’t hurt Fr- I mean, the human.” Papyrus is so confused, but Sans is like “oh hey, i know that squeaky pubescent voice. oh, and asriel’s.” Chara is ticked off, but Asriel is glad to meet Sans properly for the first time.

But then Alphys and Toriel also come in and ready to protect Swappy, begging Papyrus not to kill Swappy, but he’s all like “WHY WOULD I DO THAT? I WASN’T GOING TO KILL THEM, WE WERE JUST GOING TO DUEL!” Everyone looks at Papyrus with a blank stare, perplexed. “WHAT? WHY WOULD I TAKE SOMEONE ELSE’S SOUL?! THAT WOULD BE MURDERING.” Everyone laughs nervously, looking to the side awkwardly.

Toriel looks at Swappy, being like “Child, you heard Papyrus, crossing the barrier may be a bit too dangerous as of now. You can stay with us, if you’d like!” … Swappy stares blankly, they really do want to go back to the surface. But knowing what happened before, they nod silently, agreeing to staying here for now. Surely they’d find a way, one day. Everyone is relieved to hear that.

Asriel then brings up why did everyone know to come here anyways, Undyne mentions “A weird talking flower told me that Sans was gonna kill Papyrus, so I OBVIOUSLY had to come to save him.” Sans just chuckles about it, why’d she hear a flower? Alphys and Toriel are like “Excuse me, did you just say a flower?”

Oh dear! It looks like everybody’s been imprisoned by Florescent’s vines! Swappy is taken aback; didn’t they do everything right this time?

“Don’t worry, darling, you played your role just fine! But now, it’s time for someone else to have their spotlight! BEHOLD, AS I TAKE THE FORM OF SOMETHING SO FABULOUS, YOUR FEEBLE HUMAN MIND CAN SCARCELY COMPREHEND I- wait a moment.”

Florescent looks up to one of his victims, and notices Chara, another human. “Well, well, well! Isn’t that an intriguing development! TWO humans, for the price of one!”

Chara struggles in futility, trying to wedge themselves out of the vines as Florescent cackles, delighted by it all, in a sick, twisted sort of way. “Let me go, you… you insolent weed!”

The aforementioned insolent weed starts to comply with Chara’s request… only to summon a spiky thorn pit below the two humans… which is promptly burned away by a fire attack. “Get your filthy vines off them, you damn dirty flower!”

Asriel bursts onto the scene, followed by Royal Guardsmen and other monsters that Swappy met on their journey. Chara looks around, tears welling up in their eyes for the first time in… how long had it even been? Well, it didn’t matter now. They were just happy to see everyone here! “You guys… you all cared about us this much?” It all seems like it’s going to be a nice, happy ending, and everything would work out, but… suddenly Florescent starts chuckling.

“Oh, no… human, how could you do this?!” He says in a faux-dramatic voice. “Look at me, I’m positively shaking…”

Well, he certainly was shaking, alright. Shaking and wiggling until suddenly, his face inflated to about 3x its usual size, gaining an uncomfortable amount of humanoid detail as he sported an Oscar-winning grin. “I’ll admit, kids! You almost had me! But don’t you know, a story is nothing… WITHOUT A FEW PLOT TWISTS~!”

“All these souls…”

The face started to melt, becoming more and more skull-like.

“… are MINE now!”

He began to cackle, as everything faded to white.

“Don’t touch that dial, folks! W E ‘ R E  J U S T  G E T T I N G  S T A R T E D !”

The pure whiteness fades out as smoke dissipates into nothing. Chara and Swappy cough the bits of smoke that entered their mouths out before looking around… not only was Florescent nowhere to be found, but they were in a new location entirely. They were… outside. How odd.

“Look, as much as it hates me to say this, I think we might have to team up to stop… whatever’s happening right now.” Chara says, seconds before a cane extends from out of the darkness and yanks them out of sight.

“Sorry, but Chara’s going to have to get ready for their part in the grand finale! You, however… you have front row seats, darling. Toodles~!”

Swappy walks through the dark outside area, through a giant set of wooden double doors that sported elaborate designs relating to the art of theatre. The typical happy and sad masks were there, but their eyes were more ovular and widened, and the happy one seemed to be missing an eye-hole.

Once inside, Swappy would be treated to an enthralling organ composition as they walked past rows and rows of seats filled by empty, doll-like simulacra of their various monster friends. Once they got to the front, true to the voice’s word, a spotlight was cast down on an empty seat near the organ, which was actually ginormous! The stool alone looked to be about the size of a small house.

After sitting there, listening to the music for a moment, their chair suddenly lurched back, then flung Swappy on top of the stool to see… the keys were pressing themselves. At least, for a moment they were, since they stopped a few seconds after Swappy stuck the landing. The giant music sheets flipped through themselves for a moment before stopping on a peculiar page… there were only six notes, and the time signature was 6/8.

Suddenly, the page flipped once more, and on the new page was… a little bedsheet ghost made from notes and lines used in music writing. It had what seemed to be hair covering half of its face, and it looked down on Swappy with glee.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived! Now, we can finally move past this drab pre-show and get to the main event!” A voice rang out from nowhere in particular. The pages moved again, this time seemingly being more of a flipbook animation for this little ghost. It floated in a figure-8 pattern before the ink started… smearing… into something comparable to a rorschach blot test.

“It won’t just be like old times, it’ll be BETTER! More drama, more action, an intense struggle of man and monster, over the fate of… well, EVERYTHING~!”

Something burst out of the organ, knocking the book down onto the keys and providing a neat little bridge. Swappy runs up as more stairs twisted downwards to allow them to get up to the main platform. Fireworks sprinkled the sky with light as the human made their ascent…

Finally, at the top, Swappy stood before a figure sitting on an elaborate throne, with spotlights that previously swiveled around to light up the sky slowly lowering down to point at him. Florescent was humanoid, now, with dark hair and an eye-catching outfit that just SCREAMED “I’m fabulous to a degree that mortals will never reach for as long as they live on this earth.” Needless to say, Swappy was a bit taken aback by this.

“Ahahaha! Getting stage fright, sweetheart? How cute.” The figure stood up, slamming their heels onto the ground as they bounded down the mini-set of stairs to stand closer to Swappy. “But it’s too late now! The show’s starting, and I’d hate to disappoint a certain someone in the audience…”

Swappy would find the figure to be correct; the stairs that helped them reach this platform had disappeared, leaving only an impossible drop to a sea of ravenous audience members screaming and cheering. Delighted by all of this, the figure summoned forth a dazzling microphone. “Beauties and gentlebeauties… puts your hands together, clap and cheer like it’s the end of the world, for the grandest of returns…!”

Cue battle transition.

“It is I… METTACRIT!”

The fight begins against Mettacrit. He talks about how long he’s been waiting for this moment since he failed blooky and the Fallen Human, he misses them too much. He knows that Swappy has been keeping them in their SOUL and he wants to get them out of it, even if it means Killing Swappy to do it. He doesn’t really want to, but the two are trapped, so he tells Swappy to give up.

Of course, Swappy doesn’t agree, which causes Crit to say “I’ll force you out!” As he brings Chara out again, he grins. He forcefully takes out their soul and puts them aside. “Fallen human, I got you a body and a SOUL!”. Swapy is horrified by his actions. Crit laughs, as he shifts into his second form.

Swappy struggles, they can’t move, however… Two voices speak in Swappy’s head, and say “You can still save someone.” Which means LOST SOUL time.

After saving everyone, Swappy saves Metta after calming him down, as he’s finally accepting that maybe, they’re actually gone. The fight ends, Metta apologizes to Swappy.

“I could feel them… but… I suppose I need to accept that they’re… gone…” Swappy doesn’t hug them, they look to the side… “I suppose I can only thank you… … actually, what is your name?” Swappy replies with “Frisk”, to which Metta seems weirded out– just what kind of name is Frisk.

Mettacrit, after a moment of reflection, sighs and says “I guess I should bring everyone, including them.” he says as he looks over at Chara’s body. Swappy immediately brightens up, since, hadn’t Chara died in front of their very own eyes. Mettacrit assures them that he didn’t, he only took their SOUL, they aren’t dead really.

After breaking the barrier, Mettacrit restores the SOULs, and after waving goodbye to Swappy, he leaves as the screen fades to white…

Previous | Next

Index

[amydancepants-peralta]

For the Fictomber prompts, can I get a peraltiago with a number 7?

Hi @stars-my-darling!  I’m sorry that this is a little late (I was hoping to be able to play the Timezone Difference card, but I’m most definitely just plain LATE now) 🙈 … but here it is, along with your request for a Princess AU! 👑♥️

run run run away, baby

“No!  And that’s final.”

The King was direct in his tone, sceptre slamming into the ground for emphasis as he looked down at Amy.  She can feel her heart beginning to fall, spiralling down towards her feet, and her eyes follow it’s path.

“The very idea of it is preposterous, Amelia.”

A familiar sense of defiance runs through her, and Amy shakes her head in response.  “I love him, your majesty.  I want to marry him.  And he wants to marry me.”

The jewels studded along the edge of the King’s crown glisten under the sunlight as he scoffs, shrugging off her answer with a roll of his eyes.  “What does one need love for, when you have fortune and nobility?”

Amy shakes her head again, countering - “What good is fortune, if you don’t have love?”

His laugh is dismissive, voice taking on a condescending tone that cuts to her core.  “You are the Princess of Brooklynd, Amelia.  A role that every single woman across the land would happily give up everything for.  You are not going to ruin years of tradition by taking the hand of some lowly stable boy.  You cannot marry him.  I won’t stand for it.”

Amy’s eyes are hot with unshed tears as she swivels away, making quick work of putting distance between the King and herself.  This afternoon had turned out exactly the way she had been terrified of, and there was only one person that she knew would be able to comfort her right now. 

Technically, the King was correct.  She was the Princess of Brooklynd, and there was undoubtedly scores of women within the villages who would love a chance to spend a day in her shoes.  

But she had not been born to this role.  

The story had been told to her so many times that Amy could now recite it without blinking.  That she had been just over five years old when the King and Queen had found her standing, alone and upset, along the pathway towards the kingdom.  They had lifted her into their carriage, taking her home to the castle for food and shelter while they conducted a thorough search throughout the surrounding villages for her parents.  Sadly, nobody came forward.  Amy had been abandoned, the only clue of her previous life a small locket that, too big for her neck, had been wrapped around her wrist.  It had her first name burned into the metal in a gentle cursive, and by the following week Amy had been turned into Princess Amelia - the luckiest royal daughter to ever exist.

From the outside, her life appeared enviable - evenings draped in ballgowns created by the finest of threads; a sprawling castle with it’s own library to call home; the rarest of artworks adorning their walls.  She was undeserving of this life of splendour that had been thrust upon her, and was reminded of it constantly.

As time wore on and she became more self-aware, it became apparent that Amy had very different views on how to run a kingdom than that of the King.  The Queen, having perished several years earlier from a terrible illness, had been minimal with her maternal actions, choosing to follow the lead of her husband in moulding their prized daughter into a mirror image of themselves, priming her for rule when the time would come.  But Amy was not one to have her decisions made for her, and as a result she often clashed with her patriarch.  

She had been living a life of obligation for so long it had become impossible to imagine a life without it when she first met Jake Peralta.  Having recently turned seventeen, she was hiding in the stables with only her book for company when he’d taken a wrong turn and entered a previously unused stall.  Tripping on a loose rope, he’d stumbled ungracefully, startling Amy from her position laying across a bale of hay, and after apologising profusely for a solid amount of time (even as a stable boy, he knew the dangers of upsetting a member of the royal family), they’d begun talking.  Then, they were laughing.  

Her whole life, Amy had been unable to shake the feeling that she was a part of a larger puzzle, missing an assortment of extra pieces, and that a life of solitude with just her and the King and Queen didn’t nearly count for enough.  Jake was kind, and funny; a ray of sunshine after years of grey skies, and it wasn’t long until they were meeting every single day.  He made her laugh so much that her stomach hurt, and in the quieter moments Amy couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he was.  Or how much her skin tingled whenever their hands would accidentally brush against each other.  

With Jake’s encouragement, Amy discovered how to really live - to ride horses without restraint; to climb the trees until she reached their highest branch, to lay in the grass and watch the sky turn peach with the fading sun.  She got to know a world without costumes and stuffy dinners, where duty and privilege were unimportant details and that a day without laughter was truly a day wasted.  He became her best friend: her point of solace when she would disagree with the King (which was pretty often), and the only person she truly felt she could be herself around.  

She had shown him the underside of her necklace, her name delicately traced against the metal, and from that day on he never called her Amelia again.  To him, she was Amy - and then eventually Ames - and she was falling in love with him so rapidly it made her dizzy. 

And then one night while they lay together counting stars, Jake had leaned over and kissed her, and suddenly it felt as though everything had finally fallen into place.  From that moment on, they were Jake and Amy, filling their days with clandestine meetings in various places within the castle grounds, laying together in quieter moments and daydreaming of a life outside of their own.  

Three years had since passed, and the two of them were unequivocally in love.  Last week, as they walked through the forest that surrounded the castle, Jake had gripped Amy’s hand so tightly in his, trying (and failing) to conceal his shaking body as he told Amy all of the things that she had always wished to hear.  That she was the love of his life, that the world had changed for him the moment they met, and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.  With the scent of blossoming jasmine surrounding them, Jake stood in front of Amy, and knelt down on one knee.   

“I know that I don’t have much to offer.  I know that I am a simple stable boy, and that I cannot give you the life you’ve had for so long.  All I can give you is my heart, and the rest of my years, and Ames, you have one of those already.  I don’t know how, or when, or if it could ever even happen, but I know that I can’t imagine a life without you.  Amy, will you marry me?”

There were fireworks exploding inside her heart as she broke out into the biggest grin, nodding so rapidly she could barely speak.  Instead, her knees sunk down into the grass beside his, pulling Jake in for a kiss that could have lasted forever if only they had the chance.  And while she knew that it was going to be difficult - and that there was a very large possibility that the King would not approve - Amy didn’t care.  All of the supposed splendour of royalty was just a facade, and worthless if you didn’t have somebody you truly loved to share it with.  

And so she had stood before the King today, resplendent in her finest outfit in the hopes of gaining his approval, and told him of the relationship that she had kept secret for so long.  

As predicted, he had disregarded her passionate pleas, declaring her betrothal to a Prince from a nearby kingdom as far more advantageous, denying her the chance to marry for love instead of duty.  And now she was running towards the stable at the back of the palace field, flinging the barn door open with a grunt when she finally reaches the structure.

Jake was inside raking through hay when she ran inside, turning to Amy with a smile so sweet she could already feel herself calming down just a little.

“Ames!  You look beautiful - wait, what’s wrong?”

The rake is cast aside, hitting the ground with a dull thud as he rushes towards her, enveloping Amy in his arms before another word is spoken.  Within seconds his shirt is wet with her tears, the anguish and disappointment of the day finally catching up to Amy now that she’s wrapped up with the one she loves.  

“He won’t let us, Jake.  The - the King.  He’s forbidden us fr-from getting married.”  Amy’s words are shaky, heart pounding too hard for her to speak clearly as the reality of the situation hits her, the sound muffled from her position against Jake’s chest.

He pulls away slightly, eyes full of regret as he takes in the devastation clearly written on her face.  “Oh, Ames.  I’m so sorry.  I should never have put you in this position.”

She shakes her head vehemently, placing one hand on either side of his face.  “Please don’t ever apologise for loving me, Jake.  You’ve brought so much beauty to my life, and marrying you is all I could ever want.  You’re it for me, Jake Peralta.  That’s never going to change.”

His head dips downwards, meeting her lips with his own, and Amy can taste the salt of her tears as she breathes him in.  The thought of marrying anybody else - of having to kiss anybody else - was enough to break her heart.  Eventually they seperate, Jake holding Amy’s hand close to his chest as they walk over to a nearby bench.

Amy’s breath shudders in her chest as she looks up at Jake, the words bitter on her tongue as she explains about Prince Tedford from a nearby province - an uninspiring man that the King has decided is worthy of her hand.  Her tears start up all over again as she speaks, hands twisting up the fabric of her skirt around her fingers as she digs her nails in.  When she looks up, and sees the horror on Jake’s face at the sound of her marrying somebody other than him, she pulls herself closer to his side, resting her head on his shoulder as one arm curls around his waist.  

“I can’t do it, Jake.  I won’t.  I could never love anybody else.”  

Jake’s shoulders raise as he takes in a deep breath, sniffling loudly as he tries to hold back his tears.  “When does he want you to marry this other prince?”

Tucking her nose into Jake’s upper arm, Amy pauses for a moment before speaking.  “As soon as possible.  Especially now that he knows that I want to be with someone else.”

Her head jostles as Jake buries his face in his hands, shaking slowly as the information sinks in.  She rests her free hand against his thigh, squeezing gently while she waits in silence.  And after a moment, Jake’s head lifts.  

“Okay, hear me out for a second.  What if we ran away together?  Just packed up a few of our things and disappeared?”

The stable falls silent as Amy’s heart leaps into her chest, the idea that maybe not all was doomed suddenly too much for her to understand.  Jake takes her silence as doubt, and continues.  “I mean … they’re not your family, right?  Clearly, the King doesn’t understand you.  Somewhere out there Ames, there’s a family that has been dreaming and waiting and praying for your return.  So let’s just go find them.”

Amy’s left hand reaches up to grasp the necklace that never left her neck.  Most days, she felt it was her only link to her real family, wherever they may be.  And now the thought that she could escape all of this, and find her way home, was a little overwhelming.  

“Jake, do you hear what you’re saying?  Run away from the palace, and all it’s guards?”  He nods enthusiastically, and Amy tries her hardest not to get swept up in his eagerness.  “Do you really think we could?”

“The guards have grown incredibly lazy over the years, babe.  Most of them haven’t even noticed our sneaking around, and there have been times when our cover story was not plausible.  We could leave in the middle of the night.  There’s bound to be some of them asleep at their post.  We won’t be able to take much, but Ames … what else do we need, except each other?”

Her eyes pool with tears all over again, but this time they’re full of joy as Amy nods, a smile breaking out on her face for the first time all day.  It might be insanity, and it was incredibly risky, but the danger of a life without Jake was far more terrifying.  He stands with a whoop, pulling Amy up and into his arms as they laugh together, the prospect of a brighter future now suddenly so much clearer than it had ever been.  

*

They choose a night in the middle of the week to disappear, relying on the stars for light as Jake untethers Amy’s favourite horse, waiting until her arms are wrapped tightly around his waist before riding away from the castle.  

For days, for weeks, they keep a low profile as word gets out that the Princess has run away.  Bounty’s bigger than most families fortunes are offered for Amy’s return, drawings of her likeness pasted on doorways and tree trunks for miles and miles.

At night, they get creative with places to sleep - finding quiet barns or abandoned cottages to give them shelter from the cold.  It’s a stark contrast to the feather filled mattresses that Amy had always slept on in the castle, but falling asleep inside Jake Peralta’s arms was more comfortable than anything she’d ever known.  With him she was the happiest she had ever been.  She was safe, and she no longer feared the future.  

The further they ventured, the less the villagers seemed to know of Amy’s disappearance, and the King’s arrogance in refusing to know his staff had ultimately worked in Jake’s favour, allowing him to remain under the cover of anonymity.  Then one afternoon; while Amy lay in her favourite hiding spot - a field of wildflowers that, untethered, had grown so tall that her position was invisible from the worn path - Jake approached her with an excited grin.  

Tucking a plucked flower into the well-worn pages of her favourite book to mark her place, Amy placed the novel to her side, giving Jake her full attention.  With a gentle kiss after sitting beside her, he gripped her hands in his before declaring - “I think I’ve found your parents.”

Amy’s heart leaps into her chest, squeezing Jake’s fingers in surprise as she shakes her head in disbelief.  “What?  How?”

Jake had been at the local market, gathering some food for their next journey to a province even further away from the castle, when he’d overheard two locals talking to a family that had recently moved into the village.  Watching as the two parents introduced their seven sons, Jake noticed the heartbreak that ran over the mother’s face as she spoke of their only daughter, explaining that she had been taken from them at an early age.  What kept his attention, however, was the woman’s striking likeness to Amy.  Same olive skin, same dark hair, same brown eyes that somehow always seemed to radiate kindness.

The father spoke up, explaining that over the years they had moved through the provinces, each time praying that this time they would finally be reunited with their daughter.  They were never going to give up, he explained.  Not when their child is out there waiting for them.  

There wasn’t a doubt in Jake’s mind that he was looking at Amy’s parents, and he had rushed back through the maze of tents, dodging the traders looking to hawk their goods as he headed to the field he knew Amy would be hiding in.  

She sat across from him now, eyes wide in amazement as the idea that she might be about to finally meet her parents washes over her.  “Jake … are you sure?” 

He shrugs, giving her a sheepish smile before explaining “The only thing I’ve ever been sure about is you.  But I feel like we have to at least try?”

Amy’s hands begin to shake and Jake stands, tightening his grip as he pulls her up to join him.  “Oh my gosh, Jake - is this really about to happen?”  Her head shakes in disbelief, looking up at him with knitted brows.  “I mean … what if they don’t like me?”

Releasing her hands, Jake brushes a strand of hair away from her face, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple.  “Impossible, Ames.  You’re an amazing person, and they’d be crazy not to see that.  And besides, if all else fails, at least we’ll have each other, right?”

She nods, teeth sinking into her lip in excitement.  It had been such a long few weeks, staying low and hiding away from the locals, but now everything was falling into place.  Quickly, she runs her fingers through her hair, smoothing away any other loose hairs before adjusting the bodice of her dress, looking over at Jake and asking - “Do you think I look okay?”

He smiles, running his hands down her arms in comfort.  “I’m probably the worst person to ask.  To me, you always look amazing.”  She blushes, and he lets out a quiet laugh.  “But yes, you look beautiful.  Trust me, they’re going to love you.”  Dropping a quick kiss to her lips, he pulls away to add, “It’s really hard not to.” 

*

Jake’s fingers are entwined with hers as he pulls her back through the differently coloured market stalls, Amy using her free hand to keep the shawl that they’d wrapped around her head close.  This town didn’t seem to have any awareness of Princess Amelia’s existence, let alone her current status as a runaway, but there was a part of her that was still fearful of one of the King’s men lurking in the shadows, and there was not a chance she was going to risk everything falling apart now that they were so close to finding her family.  

He squeezes her hand as he finds the same people from before, following them closely until they’ve reached a more secluded section, gaining their attention and explaining that there was somebody he thinks they should meet.  With Jake’s encouragement, Amy steps forward, dropping the shawl and locking eyes with the mystery woman, and in an instant she knew.

For years, Amy had been having dreams where somebody that looked just like her would visit, talking to her in such a soothing voice that any fears that had been escalating were immediately eradicated.  The idea that such a woman could have abandoned her hurt far too much for Amy to think about, and so she had pushed away the idea of having such a loving mother, relegating her to a figment of her imagination only.  Only now, she could see the memories had been real.

In a voice so similar to her own, the woman cries out Mija!, arms pulling Amy in for a tight hug as the boys around her stand in shock.  When she pulls away the older gentleman moves to stand in front of her, the eyes raking over her face growing wider as he too began to realise that their family was once again complete.

It was several hours before everything began to settle, and after years of mystery the truth finally came to pass.  

Amy was a Santiago, and sister to seven brothers.  Her parents, Camila and Victor, had pulled her aside quietly, telling Amy the story of how one day she and her brothers had been playing together when an overly adorned coach rolled down the path, pulling up and snatching Amy from her position on the grass before anybody could react.  Victor had run after the coach for as long as his legs would allow, desperate to stop his worst nightmare from becoming a reality, and the misery at his failure was still obvious all the years later.  

Having never seen the occupants of the coach, her family had devoted all the years afterwards to moving through the country, staying long enough at each new province to meet every person that lived there.  The heartache of failure grew stronger with every passing year, and Camila’s hands kept gripping Amy’s as they sat together now, scarcely able to believe that they had finally been reunited.  

They shook their heads in disbelief as Amy told them of her life as Princess Amelia, neither of them ever considering that people as affluent as the King and Queen would be so brazen as to take their child.  Having lived so far away from the kingdom, they only knew of the royal Princess by name, never seeing her likeness drawn anywhere, and not for the first time Amy is thankful that she and Jake had thrown caution to the wind by escaping from the King’s tyrannic rule.  

Jake hangs back for a long while, giving Amy a chance to meet everyone, watching her with careful eyes from the background in case it all got too overwhelming.  He moves quickly towards her when she reaches for him, arm wrapping around her waist and squeezing as she introduces him to her parents - a word that sounded so foreign on her lips, yet brought such a feeling of joy when uttered.  

He was nervous, fumbling over a jumble of words as he tells Amy’s family (FAMILY! She has a family now!) how exciting it is to finally meet them; explaining their journey here and telling all the Santiagos just how much he loved her.  They welcomed him with open arms - he was the one to reunite them, after all - and by nightfall Jake and Amy are safely ensconced in the walls of the Santiago family home.  

Within a month, they are married, family and friends gathering together under the oak tree that grew in the middle of Amy’s favourite field.  In her hand she gripped a bunch of wildflowers, the scent of which would forever remind her of this day, and when Victor led her to Jake’s side, Amy had never felt more complete.  

As he gripped her hands tightly within his, Jake promised to spend the rest of his life loving Amy - to hold her when the world grew cold, and kiss her goodnight every evening.  With tears pouring down her face, Amy vowed to spend her lifetime with Jake in her heart; to be his guidance when the road grew dark, and to hold him in her arms when they would fall asleep.  Together, they declared their love to be unending, sealing it with a kiss that made both of their hearts skip a tiny beat.

The princess may not have ended up with a prince, but Amy had found her home with Jake’s arms around her and her family smiling beside her, and that was the only fairytale ending they needed.  

*

*

“And they all lived happily ever after.”

Closing the book quietly, Jake smiles down at his sleeping daughter, leaning in with his free hand to gently brush a curl away from her forehead.  “Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaving the tiniest of kisses against her forehead.  

She snuffles quietly, eyelids fluttering open briefly and smiling up at Jake.  “Daddy?”

“Yes, bubba?”

“You and mama are prince and pwincess too?”

Jake stands, moving to place the book back onto the well-stocked bookshelf before returning to his daughter.  “No, honey.  But mama and I, we’ve got our own love story.”  Tucking the blankets surrounding her, Jake whispers  “And one day, we’ll tell you all about it.  But it’s time for sleep now, okay?”

Her eyes are already fluttering close again as she nods, head stilling halfway through as she falls back asleep.  Jake pauses for a minute, watching her tiny chest fall up and down with her breaths, and for the hundredth time today alone he thanks the universe for everything that led him to this moment.  Together, he and Amy had built a life together, their unbreakable bond resulting in this family of three (and maybe someday, even more).  And while their love story would never be the same as the dragon fighting Princes climbing castle walls, like the story he had just read to their daughter, Jake knew that his and Amy’s story was even better.

He flicks on the nightlight as he leaves her bedroom, a cascade of stars climbing the ceiling in a soft blue light as he closes the door almost all the way closed.  Catching the sight of his wife leaving the kitchen with two glasses of wine in her hand, Jake tiptoes down the hallway, and on the way he thinks to himself - there could never be a happier ending than this.  

[ancientbrit]

Natter #5  7/9/2020

On the way home from the Edmonds Medical Clinic for a covid check last Sunday (5th), I stopped off at my son's house to see him along with his wife Sari and daughter Willa, now 3 1/2. This was the first time since February and I could not just drive by without stopping now, could I? 

Back in February, I met their new dog Sunny. This time I was surprised that Sunny still seemed to remember me. The last time I was around a dog of this size (about 50 lbs) was when I was 17, just before I went into the RAF. We had owned Jock since I was six. My nine-year-old sister Joan had been offered a puppy by the local Air Raid Wardens post one afternoon and after getting the okay from our parents, off we went to get him.  I suppose that I didn't treat him too well at times when we first had him, although we were good friends, but about once a year he would remember and make it his business to let me know that he hadn't forgotten. I would be playing with all the other kids, making the usual din that kids make en masse and I would suddenly see Jock making a beeline for me, intent on bodily harm. He would jump up and I would stick out my arm to which he would clamp his teeth. As he would let go momentarily to get a better grip, I would be able to whip my hand away and give him a slight tap on the nose, he would drop away and that would be it - honor satisfied for another year. During the Summer holidays, we would venture forth with umpteen friends to the local park - Nonsuch, which is what remains of Henry VIII's hunting park  - his old Nonsuch Castle exists now only as foundations and cobbled streets, all of which is covered over and grassed, which is a shame.The site was originally excavated way back in 1956 for the first time since the building was razed 500 years before and it was amazing to see the things that were found still in great condition - shoes, coins, and tools amongst other things. Unfortunately, it was determined that the cost to cover the whole site to protect it was excessive and it was returned to the way it had been for 500 years. To add insult to injury a house was built over the site to house a park keeper, and to make it even worse, the property was named "Castlemain House."  Barbara Castlemain was the 'lady' who somehow obtained the property following Henry's death. Barbara was something of a gambler - a bad one and she was finally forced to sell off the property in bits to cover her debts. This park is huge and when we were kids it seemed to be infinite as although there were roads around three sides there was almost no traffic during the war except for buses and the occasional army truck. Even so, as you couldn't see them or hear them because of the vast number of trees, they didn't exist as far as we were concerned.The park was always able to absorb our numbers and we would be there from around 10 am, loaded with bottles of lemonade and licorice wood, until it was getting dark and we would make it home again, tired, dirty and hungry. Our days there were wonderful really; camps all over the place, trees to climb, an army training facility, rather like a massive Big Toy at which we excelled. Of course, we weren't encumbered with uniforms, rifles and heavy boots as the army grunts were, but we were able to whip through it in nothing flat. All very satisfying. One of Jock's attractive habits was to sing. He had a good ear for music and would join in when there was any sort of singing on the radio. Joan and I got into the habit of encouraging this practice to the point where we could just say the word 'singing' and off he would go. Until my exam results came through, which took an age then, because of a lack of examiners, who were mostly all away abroad fighting, I had to attend the secondary school next to home whilst I waited. Although over here there is supposed to be no connection between church and State, in England it is totally different.  In most, if not all schools, the morning starts with the usual roll call in class, after which the whole school collects in the hall. The staff assembles on a raised platform and the headmaster reads out any notices. Events to come, sporting awards are presented and hymns are sung, which I always enjoyed. Later at the grammar school we also were treated to a selection of classical music. Jock had the freedom to wander wherever he felt like because traffic was almost non-existent as I mentioned previously. But he normally hated to be left alone and when I rushed off to the secondary school, he would tend to follow and sit outside the school's hall. This was okay until we started to sing and then his musical imperative would kick in and his melodious tones could be easily heard above the concerted voices of the school. After a rather short time, I became known as his owner and the Head would order me to go and do something about him. This I felt must be because the head had rather a tin ear and no musical appreciation. All the other lads encouraged him by singing louder, so I got to take off and take him back home, and try to settle him down. Jock was just one of our menagerie as we also had a cat and a rabbit, quite apart from birds and other animals from time to time. Ginger the cat enjoyed the usual cats' life of independence, sleeping wherever he chose and getting along with the other inhabitants whilst staying aloof in the usual cat's manner.. The rabbit, Whisky was something else - a real character. He had access to the house, although he mostly slept overnight in a large cage at the bottom of the garden under the big apple tree. The first person to sashay down the garden path in the morning was expected, by Whisky, to unlatch the cage front and release him. If this release was not forthcoming and came a bit later, Whisky would jump down and immediately attack the legs of the tardy one. This tended to make a believer of you. 

In the winter Whisky would spend a lot of time in the house - he did like his warmth.  My Mother's favorite chair sat to one side of the fireplace and Dad's was on the other. Mum’s chair was also Jock's favorite. One evening Whisky decided that it perhaps ought to be investigated, but of course, Jock lay across it with his legs dangling into space. Whisky lolloped across the room and stood up on his back legs to case the situation. Jock growled but didn't move. Whisky returned to the other side of the room, turned and galloped back to the chair and jumped, clearing Jock completely, landing between Jock and the seatback. He settled down with his back to the chair and his feet against Jock - and he began to push and push and push. Jock tumbled off the cushion and left in a bad humor, grumbling all the way.  Whiskey settled down and went to sleep.

When I had to leave and join the RAF I was worried that Whisky might not be treated the way I was used to treating him, although why I thought this I don't know as my whole family were also  universal animal lovers. Anyway my Grandad, Mum's Dad, who was a really lovely man of whom I was very fond, offered to take care of Whisky. He had a long record of animal care, breeding birds and chickens. And so I made a crate and when I placed Whisky in it and started to nail slats across the top, Jock went nuts and started to tear at the slats with his front paws to get the Bun out. I was amazed at the obvious care Jock had for his buddy.

During the war, Jock developed an acute dislike for sudden loud noise such as bombs and guns. After the war fireworks and thunder replaced the more dangerous noises. One day, when I had been in the RAF for a year, Jock had wandered off in his usual manner, but after some time a thunderstorm moved in. It was assumed that he tried to hide somewhere but he was never seen again. My friends searched everywhere they could think he might be, They plastered signs everywhere which should have been successful as he was known far and wide, but he was gone and of course, there was nothing that I could do, being so far away. Returning home on leave sometime later the house seemed so quiet - no Whisky and no Jock; a whole way of life that I had known and loved changed. It took a long time to get over that. Walking in the park had lost it's old savor and I only did it a few times after that, once with a girlfriend and then with my sister two years ago.

In 1947 we had the worst winter in memory. We had had a large snowfall which was followed by days of hard frost. During the days the sun would barely put in an appearance, and when it did it was rather weak, trying to shine through the frost haze as a dull orange globe which would put a slight glaze on the snow, and then freeze hard. There were no snow ploughs in the south of England in those days as we never had heavy snowfall! Apart from the rough road conditions making cycling very dangerous - I came off many times going to and from school - there was one saving grace. In the woods of Nonsuch Park, there was a long, wide path from the top of the hill running down to the lower field. As a path, it formed a natural bed to carry rain and because of this, the rain had worn away the center making the path a vee shape. About one sixth of the way down there was a right hand, 45-degree bend and now that snow had covered everything this path formed a natural toboggan run. Snow had been packed on the outside of the bend and snow on the whole length of the run had been packed and polished to a fare thee well, to the point where it was impossible to stand on it without your feet whipping out from underneath you and dumping you on your backside. A friend of ours had a neat little toboggan that her Dad had made which featured half-round steel runners and the depth of the side rails was barely 2". Guiding this bolide presented a problem as there was no way of flexing the runners the way most other toboggans did. You know the type, the toboggans that are about  9" high and have a crossbar at the front which allows you to steer by flexing the front of the runners to the left or right. My friend Brian and I worked out a method that did very well for us. We realised that starting at the top meant that you could pick up some speed, but then had to take the bend fairly close to the bottom of the grooved path, or you would shoot off to the outside of the bend and go hurtling off into the trees and brush, doing yourselves a vast mischief, so it was obvious that placement in the bend was king. We worked out that the only way to steer the thing was to grip the front near to the sides and make a series of upward jerks, lifting the toboggan sideways the amount necessary to get around the bend. Just starting off alone from the top seemed rather slow, so Brian lay face down with his legs bent upwards from the knee, making his two feet into handles. We would start as high up the hill as possible and I would grasp his feet and push as fast as I could until we were running as fast as was prudent, then drop onto Brian’s back, where the extra weight would guaranty a decent rate of knots. I am not sure exactly how he managed to lift our combined weights to steer and at first he didn't get it quite right and we were catapulted off the bend by centrifugal force. But after a couple of these trips into the wild we got things right and were able to get into the groove, sometimes with the inner runner lifting and then we would be sling-shotted around the bend and shoot off down the hill. It was exhilarating in the extreme. We realized that our homemade toboggan had distinct advantages over the high, steerable, shop bought model. because of the way it was built. On those you had to sit upright to be able to steer it and the resulting high center of gravity was their undoing. Every time they attempted the run they would lose it at the bend and crash.This would all continue until it started to get dark which made things a bit risky. It was then that we began to realise just how damned cold we were and we all trooped home to agonize over feeling creeping back into hands and feet. It was all so worthwhile though and we were back again the next day I somehow doubt I will ever get the chance to return. The memories are great though and I wouldn't be without them.

The front garden is flourishing but the deer have returned to the back. All the Hostas have been taken out down to ground level now for the fourth time. All my blackcurrant crop has been eaten and the three plum trees have been stripped of fruit with branches broken. Because of the higher temps lately, I had left the greenhouse door open and they even got inside, taking off the top of the first tomato plant and damaging other potted plants inside. They have even taken a chunk out of my Cardiocrinum 'Big & Pink'. Now that is a diabolical liberty and I will not stand for it. although if I can't be where the deer are when this damage is done I am stumped. I have no idea now where they are gaining access and I totally despair of being able to grow anything. With the trees taking so much room without now getting the opportunity to produce fruit it now seems that their time has come and I will probably get rid of them soon and I am starting to feel very vicious towards them. They are costing me so much in time and effort quite apart from the money involved with nothing to show for the effort. I will check into electric fencing but the shape and size of the garden doesn't really lend itself to making an easy job of it, so I am really not sure what to do. If any of you have any sort of an idea of what might be effective, short of sitting up all night with a gun at the ready I will give it the utmost attention. Thank you all. Your fearless leader,

Gordon