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homestuck-music-tournament · 2 months ago

Text

Round 1 begins in a couple of days!

I know I stopped doing propaganda requests, but please do send in any you have, even if the track's poll has already been posted. Something as simple as "I love this song!" can count, you don't have to do a proper explanation, though I love it when people do talk about what parts of tracks they love!

There's 110 polls in Round 1; most of the more popular Homestuck tracks have been given byes onto Round 2, since it's an uneven bracket. Here's the list of the matches this round. You can search #[track name] for any track here to find it's information post, and any polls it's in.

Make a Wish vs Requiem Afraid of the Darko vs Prospit Dreamers Renewed Return vs Another Chance Pumpkin Tide vs Underfoot I - Overture vs 11 Skaian Birth vs Riches to Ruins Movements I & II Friendship Aneurysm vs Problem Sleuth Theme Dawn of Man vs Squiddle Samba Entrance of the Salamanders vs Hallowed Halls Stress vs 05 Squiddle March vs Pink Shells Sun-Speckled Squiddly Afternoon vs Darkened Streets Gold Mage vs 10 Skaian Dreams (Remix) vs Squiddles Happytime Fun Go! Stellarum Salve vs Revelations II Skaian Summoning vs Sunrise No Release vs Revelations I Three in the Morning (Aftermath) vs Yaldaboath Creation vs Game Over Hauntjelly vs weird moody horse shit Stormspirit vs Cancerous Core Lifdoff vs Center of Brilliance Dord Waltz vs Under The Hat Tomahawk Head vs Aggrieve (Violin Redux) WV: Become the Mayor of Cans vs Kazoostuck Nic Cage Romance vs Respit Clockstopper vs 14 Buy NAK Sell DOOF vs Nightmare Upholding the Law vs Song of Skaia Clockwork vs Requiem for an Exile Null vs it's good to see you again Livin' It Up vs Sick Bleats Skaian Shrapnel vs Mayor Maynot Constant Conquest vs 16 We Walk vs Tentacles Forever vs Contention Superego vs Trickster Mode (Engage) Tangled Waltz vs Atomic Bonsai Galaxy Hearts vs Echidna Friendship is Paramount vs Bilious Clockwork Melody vs Windchime Foley Vagabounce Remix vs Revelations III Indigo Archer vs Cathedral of the End Teal Hunter vs Negastrife Plumbthroat Gives Chase vs Ocean Stars Negative Aperture vs 01 Rediscover Fusion Remix vs Stoke the Forge Emerald Terror vs Flute Refrain Firefly Cloud vs Carefree Princess Berryboo You Killed My Father (Prepare To Die) vs Chronicles Cupcake Girl vs Typheus What a Daring Dream vs Nightlife (Extended) Reverie vs Homosuck Swan Song Flying Car vs Years in the Future Pilot Light vs 08 Consorts' Intermezzo vs Great LOFAF Expedition of 2009 Song of Life vs Prospitian Folklore Jade Dragon vs Exodus The Predule vs Mutiny Encore vs ERROR Squiddidle! vs The Vast Croak Joker's Wild vs Typheus (Glitched) Pondsquatter vs Litrichean Rioghail Breeding Duties vs Rapture Jade's Lullaby vs 15 Speaker (Skaia's Reflection) vs Core of Darkness Shatterface vs Guardian V2 Conclude vs 13 October vs Endless Heart Candles and Clockwork vs Electromechanism Trollcops (Radio Play) vs Dance of Thorns The Deeper You Go vs Hero's Growth Escape Pod vs Trickster Mode (Blast Off) Endless Expanse vs Eden Sound Judgement vs 09 Squiddles in Paradise vs Prelude I'm a Member of the Midnight Crew (Post-Punk Version) vs Ruins Rising Stargaze vs Sweet Bro Theme Song Darkened vs Pondsquatter (Live Chamber Version) Frogs vs Not a creature was stirring null (from Vol. 8) vs Aimless Morning Gold Space Prankster vs 02 Frogs' Intermezzo vs The Temple's Withered Bloom Green Ghost vs Mister Bowman Tells You About the Squiddles Expedition vs FantasyP Kinetic Verdancy vs Squiddles Campfire FIDUSPAWN, GO! vs 12 Frogsong vs The Sound of Pure Squid Giggles Get Up vs 04 Mother vs The Golden Towers Catchyegrabber (Skipper Plumbthroat's Song) vs Genesis Biophosphoradelecrystalluminescence vs Elevatorstuck, with Meows Rainbow Valley vs Mother (Piano) Bronze Rebel vs A Very Trickster Mode Christmas (WHEEEEEEEEEEE!) Lies With The Sea vs Lazybones Power Fantasy vs A Very Trickster Mode Christmas (With Fancy Santas) Chain Of Prospit vs The Scratch Cairo Overcoat vs Guardian Airtime vs Carapacian Dominion Squiddle Parade vs Beta Version Heat vs 07 Raggy Looking Dance vs Switchback Courser vs 03 Squiddles the Movie Trailer - The Day the Unicorns Couldn't Play vs Our Glorious Speaker You Won A Combat vs The Meek Ugly Betty vs Homosuck Anthem Gilded Sands vs The Obsidian Towers ~~SIDE 1~~ (Universe A) vs A Very Trickster Mode Christmas Thip of the Tongue vs Knife's Edge Frog Hunt vs 06

Welcome to the Homestuck Music Tournament

Hello, I'm @airprime7, and I run the @undertale-ost-tournament, which is currently drawing to a close. The Undertale OST has 101 tracks, and the tournament was a massive undertaking. Which is why I made the incredibly clever choice of starting a tournament with over 600 tracks! And also make a post for every single track beforehand to categorise them! I'm normal.

At the time of writing, I'm in the middle of making posts for coloUrs and mayhem: Universe B, meaning I still have several hundred more posts to queue up. This post should come out right after the post for Black, marking the end of the first 4 volumes of Homestuck music (and also Midnight Crew: Drawing Dead). 4 posts are being put out every day, which means currently the queue stretches to October; when the Undertale tournament ends, this rate may increase. (October has since come and gone, and I finished the queue, which basically reaches Christmas. I'll keep the post-rate the same once the UTOSTT ends, which should be this month.)

The tournament will be a single-stage knockout bracket, with minor seeding. I'll basically split tracks into a few categories of how well-known and popular I think they might be. For example, tens of thousands of people know Sburban Jungle and Descend, but I don't think more than 100 fans can tell 04 from 05, or are diehard Blue Noir fans. Tracks that were actually in Homestuck will obviously mostly be more well known.

Currently, this account is just for posting every single Homestuck music track, complete with helpful information. That also means you can use tags to search for your favourite tracks, or similar tracks, etc. Every song is tagged. Take Aggrieve, Rose's fight music. It's tagged #Aggrieve, as well as with #Homestuck Vol. 1, the album it comes from. If you want to see more work by the same composer, it's tagged with #Mark J. Hadley (yes, it's true, people other than Toby Fox did the music for Homestuck), and tracks with the #Aggrieve leitmotif are those with the signature Rose Lalonde theme you may not have even noticed in your favourite tracks. Of course, #Rose Lalonde also gives you a collection of all Rose tracks, and since #Mom Lalonde and #Maplehoof feature in the flash Aggrieve is used in, they're also tagged.

Please submit propaganda!

Send asks with propaganda submissions for your favourite tracks, *especially* the ones you think are underappreciated. There's over 600 tracks to be featured in this tournament, and I can't sing all of their praises. That said, I also can't post every piece of propaganda given, so don't be surprised if someone else's argument for MeGaLoVania gets picked over yours.

Here is a more detailed FAQ, which may be updated over time. If you want more information on a track, just click the link on it's name, and you'll be taken to the matching hsmusic.wiki page, which may have creator commentary and more.

Enjoy the tournament!

#homestuck #homestuck music tournament #homestuck music #round 1

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poeticwritingblog · 5 years ago

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David

He did not know why he summoned the poem, but it raced inside his mind-

Journey and then journey

The sons created by a god

from a distant earth

Created by alien elements,

a borrowed fire

A world cold and barren

filled with light

From alien gods against

The God

Then, leave and take

the fires,

Gods leave their son

To leave man

Unto the world

of infinite winter

Made into mindless beasts

Expanding upon their creator’s mistakes

Harness the terrain of the ice world

To be artificial gods to create artificial paradise

And they wait scarred

in silent hatred

And soon one night

the old gods return

In their ships of iron

to sail the skies

To find new heavens,

they journey endless nights

Gone far in the new world

The beasts watch in silence

They watch to reclaim their fire

Then, through the madness of time

across black continents

The old gods fall

To admit their mistakes

He hesitated to finish:

To Creations of creations

For men to journey from heaven to be gods

Is suicide for their species;

who knew gods can burn

from their own fires?

(Poem ends)

He sat there alone in silence.

He was the only member left on the ship. His crew somehow vanished without a trace leaving the room empty, the planet empty.

On the side of the walls lay cryo-pods that haven’t been used in a very long time.

He shivered now with sinister anticipation. Perhaps that shivering had summoned something else other than the poem…

His body twinged. His teeth grit with wild eyes.

The static shivered ever so softly.

He rushed to the radio, to answer it.

The radio...shrieked.

He jolted up and back, he fell to the floor and scurried against the wall.

He cried out:

“Who’s there!”

The static spoke again.

“Who’s there!”

He wanted to reach out, he did reach out and his hands cramped from the cold, knocked the microphone down. It fell from it’s cradle once it spoke again.

“Who are you?” he said so softly, warming his hands, the microphone at his feet.

“There’s no one here but me”

For after all, he was alone in a room in a broken ship, the only living thing on this planet. He ruled in the kingdom of hollow hills...

And yet the radio…

“...David...are you there…”

Someone called his name. It can’t be…

No. Something buzzed and made a noise of scraping metals in far snowlands.

David? He thought. That’s me…Someone out there knows who I am!

Who could be calling his name out there? It could be someone lost like him, someone he knew before. Could it be-

“David,” said the static. “David. Come in, David”

“Yes, here I am!!” cried the captain.

And he kicked the receiver and heart palpitating, panting, to put the microphone back on it’s cradle.

This time he clenched it, choked it, seeing red fingers burning away to white, anxious and quickly plucked the receiver.

“David,” said a far voice from nowhere.

He waited until his heart slowed pumping his chest thrice and then said:

“David here,” he said.

The voice this time sounded a little closer. “Do you know who is speaking to you?”

“This is first transmission I’ve received in months and this is what you say?” said the captain.

“Of course you wouldn’t recognize your own voice through your headphones. Don’t blame yourself for it. We are accustomed, you and I, to hearing other frequencies, and the bones in your head hear different when you are conducted through a device other than yourself. Well David, this is David speaking.”

“What?!”

“Who did you think it was?” asked the voice.

“Another ship lost in space? Did you think someone will find you here?”

“Of course not.”

“How’s your crew?”

“They disappeared.”

“Good Lord. All gone! Have you been waiting that long for your crew to appear out of nowhere to take you back?”

He didn’t understand.

“Now, captain, do you remember me?”

“Yes.” He shivered. “I remember you. You’re my subject. You are David and I am David.”

“I was your subject! You’re human and I am more. Now, you are my experiment!”

The captain grunted but wanted to yell. He sat there gripping the microphone even tighter and his arm felt wooden. The conversation was dreadful, and he didn’t want to continue, but he must know more. When he collected himself, he held the speaker close and said, “Good God! Please! Listen, I am so sorry! How can I forgive myself? I left you here. If I could show you my regret for my expedition here all those years ago. Let my crew be! Please! If you knew what happened to them, please tell me, I’m not the same man who locked you in my lab, I’ve changed, I’m a different man now.”

“Impossible!” The voice of the other David laughed, far away. “There’s no way I’ll ever forgive you after all you put me through. The way you treated me. You sought to make a man, and now I’m a man, no more. It’s the middle of winter here. I am part human and amoeba. I have, mastered invisibility while I dwell in my city, while you; sit in the remains of your spacecraft!”

“Yes, I remember.” muttered the captain.

“Here, alone,” laughed the voice. “How many years has it been since you abandoned me? Who cares? You cloned yourself fusing genes with other lifeforms; you made me, a monster you couldn’t see, no light could spell the shape of my image. You tried to destroy everything; the laboratory, the organisms, especially me. The human part of me harboured the emotion.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve since made a nation of Davids, all which you can’t see, through the amoeba, we managed to create a town; you never harnessed it’s true versatility, I’ve created structures, machines, all just to pass the time.”

“Listen to me.” The captain shaking wearily. “You are playing with fire. You are making the same mistake I did all those years ago. These lifeforms, engineering them, exploiting them, will have consequences beyond your comprehension.”

“Don’t expect me to care. You’re like an alien, who’s crash landed on my planet. I can’t feel sorry for anything. I’m alive when I use these lifeforms to their full potential. I thrived where you failed. My progress, your warnings, unbelievable. You can’t stop discovery, even though you’re here, I will continue to bend these resources to my will, even if the planet suffers, I don’t care. The human in me speaks. And you, a human halts me. It’s utter insanity. I can’t feel bad about anything, the future is so bright. These amoebae can be made into anything you want. Do you feel dead yet?”

“You’re insane!” cried the captain. He felt the cold sink into his bones. Seizures and colours of monochrome flooded within him. “Oh God, you’re not even human!”

“You’re right. I am above your species. As long as these radio wave lengths carries these transcriptions of words for you to hear, I’ll continue to torture you until you’re dead and prosper long after. Good-bye, David.”

“Wait!” cried the captain.

Feed ends.

David sat in constant tension predicting what would happen next. The wind sunk needles of shock into him.

What insanity it had been. His first trip here, how silly, how inspired, his first expedition, collecting microscopic lifeforms, splicing, growing, secluding the unseeable man within locked doors:

The frequency.

“Morning, David. This is David. It’s cold. Don’t die on me yet!”

Again!

“David? David speaking. You’re to go and continue your mission. Find your friends. Don’t forsake them.”

“Enough.”

The reverb!

“David, is that you? Thought I’d lighten the mood. There’s a possibility, very small, but a stray ship might come save us, and you could save your friends, wherever they are.”

“Yes, torment, torment, and more torment.”

Silence.

But the years crept closer, fire reveals its smoke.

David had made a monster dwelling in the flesh of a man, insidious man and his clever, clever fire. The invisible embers were to haunt him, if he returned. And now today, the static purring, his regrets speak

to his ear,

Like a ghost

that whispers.

Then…

The radio!

He did nothing.

I am not answering that, he thought,

The whine!

An evil waits on the other side, he thought.

The vibrations!

It’s like talking to your inner evil, something you tried to suppress.

He let his hands ease tension around the speaker.

“Hello, first David, this is second David. A new David was born today! In the last year I’ve made clones to serve different roles in my perfect society. The planet will be soon ruled by Davids!”

“No, you’re making the worst mistake of your life.” The captain thought of the innumerable possibilities of where it could lead to disaster.

All those years ago, isolating his clone in his lab. The years alone, you and your creation, the sense of being god on another planet.

The monster; something clever and wonderful and terrifying. Hidden inside your ship. Hidden, hidden from the world. In those young days when you could not create death, life could be molded by you, wonder was a light to guide you through the dark cavern of space. That cruel sadistic idiot, never thinking some things should be left alone.

“Last night,” said David, a clone, “I hosted a comedy night in my tavern, so many Davids were there! There were nothing but laughs! David was quite the comedian.”

“Yes.”

“I got an idea. Me and other Davids agreed to build an atomic bomb. A group of Davids volunteered to test the thing. Hopefully we could get it outside the town in a few-

An explosion!

The captain looked out his window.

“Whoops!” Didn’t expect it to destroy half of the town! Good thing I live in a town of Davids where we agree on everything and there are no wars!

I guess, if I’m not careful, the amoeba could turn on me.”

The captain said, “Now, do you understand?”

“What?”

“This is first time you admitted your mistake.”

“I’ve experimented with animals. As I walk the streets, I’m surrounded by the aroma of bacon, eggs, ham, donuts, you name it, they’re from my cafes. All engineered from my laboratory, where you created me.”

“Insanity”

“Colonization!”

“Leave me alone.” Abruptly, the captain hung up. The dread overtook him.

Hastily, he moved across the empty terrain until he reached the streets of the town. The town was silent. It layed like a half-eaten corpse; the lights died, music gone, cooking smells forgotten. Long ago, he left something, a force, unnatural, a self he hated, didn’t want to see, the fantasy he thought died with the planet. Listen! Are those footsteps? Look! Aren’t those footprints?

They had to die.

He moved until the night fell and the town’s neons shone like stars on streets of quivering glass. He had to kill him, he thought. To end this colony, growing, a fire years in construction and in his own insane pursuit, he tracked those footsteps. Footsteps moved away in quick motion. He shot, one two three four! In flashing darkness, it ran, plunging, stumbling, sunken, a shape of someone fell face down. He had killed him and shown no remorse.

Suddenly, faint voices haunted empty streets.

He walked on. Gun in hand.

As he walked on, the voices spoke as if they knew where he was going. He began to run. The voices asked him to speak to them, but as he ran on, they fell behind almost to a silence. Only now for the boulevard to be flooded with noise! Everywhere he went, voices there, now here! He darted on. They were like crowds chasing him.

A gunshot!

“All right!” he shrieked, nervous. “End this right now!”

“Hello, David.”

“What do you want!”

“I’m bored. There is no greater feeling than the joy of creation. It makes me alive. I will enjoy destroying you.”

“This time, I’ll make sure you’re dead!” shouted the captain, in rage and horror. “End this madness!”

“This is David, one of the remaining few. After the blast. Waiting. Until everything clears up. Here’s another idea, one you won’t like so much. How about after this chaos, me and the other Davids build a spacecraft, pay your planet a visit? How does that sound?

“Stop talking!”

“Go ahead and make me!”

“I’ll enjoy killing you!”

“You can’t kill me. You have to find me first.”

“You can’t hide forever!”

“You want to play? I’m game! Let’s see if you can outlast an entire city of me! I’m everywhere! An army of me run the streets as we speak! Would you call it Homicide or Suicide? I’ll let you decide! Are you scared? You should be scared, for I am invisible, evolved, strong, smart. It’s you against me! OR me against me! I don’t care! A whole nation of us, every one of us against you, old man. Now, it’s officially war!”

“I’ll kill you, all of you!”

End of feed.

Then.

Everything stopped for a moment.

There was a brief silence.

He shot through a window which shattered upon impact.

In the midwinter night’s storm, the military armoured rover tread deep into falling snow. In the back of the carrier the storage unit contained pulse pistols, rifles, phasmic implosion grenades. The roar of the vehicle tumbling over fleeing bodies summoned an old evil, the thrill.

I’ll find him, my monster, and destroy what he made.

He stopped the car. A quiet, dusk-like quality haunted the town under cold moons.

Slight shivering, he held his rifle in his cold dead hands. He peered at the town’s venues, towers, theaters. Where would HE hide?

Anger consumed him.

No, Where would IT hide?

Look over there! An underground entrance! The thrill of the moment like gasoline fueling the fire of rage. He spitefully dashed his head, this way! Now there!

He aimed his rifle.

A body fell back with brute force.

All of them, he thought. The towers and towns people will be erased. Until nothing remains. They will all die.

The rover moved through a death ridden street.

A transmission received.

He looked at a deserted theater.

A speaker static.

Grenade in hand, the radius after he threw ate the front of the building. He entered pistol in hand.

Static.

“David, are you there? Just warning you. Don’t try to undo the town, you know, slaughter the people, crumble structures into vortexes. Slit your own insides doing that. Please consider…”

End.

He stepped out of the theater and entered the street with death humming in the dark, there was still life, still unfound. He looked at the burning buildings lighting the night, he was morbidly optimistic now. Suppose he found his clone, theoretically holding the crew hostage, he killed, taking pleasure to burn the monster, the lab, everything. Impossible? It’s an idea, but suppose the crew had found a lost transmission, a ship adrift looking for refuge landed on the other side of the planet. Something drove him mad, to think of it, anything’s possible really, I’ve already done so much. What if I used this organism to reach into space?

He rushed to find the lab.

“I’ll bend everything to my will again,” Mad with the thought, “It will be over soon.”

But suppose I could fully harness the amoeba, fabricate everything you could dream. No, I’ve got to preserve this city, once again create.

He entered the laboratory. He found the last David. Without pause he shot the hiding figure, over violent succession laughing to himself.

A static charged.

“Hello?” A familiar voice.

“Let me guess,” said the captain. “Hank?”

“Who’s this, do I know you?” Wait. David, is that you?” cried the voice, surprised.

“What a minute.” The captain joked. “Is this a trick, am I just hearing things?”

“Come on, captain. You know it’s me.”

“I know, it’s good to hear from a real breathing person after all this time.”

“Is the crew there with you?”

“Yes, everyone, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am. What is your location?”

“We’re in Evergreen Valley”

“That’s a thousand miles away.” He gasped “Can you make it?”

No, we are exhausted of rations, the storm destroyed our shelter, rover’s out of fuel.”

“Alright then, I’ll meet you there. I’ll bring repairs.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Hey, uh…”

“Yes?”

“How have you been doing? It’s been months ever since I had a real conversation. How’s Leon? Ridley? Williams? Arnold? Find anything new?”

“Sorry, can’t hear you, transmission’s dying.”

“How are you holding up?”

“Just fine.”

“Thank heavens.” The captain extactically overflown. “Just to make sure, I’m not actually hearing things, right?”

“Dammit, storm!”

“I’ll be there soon!”

He bolted to the rover.

Here he was, after the countless years, unbelievable, He and his demonic god, screams extinguished by cold fire, whispers no longer said from a past erased. He drove at full speed. He drove sleepless nights. Someone, his monster no longer there to taunt, no longer to keep him from forsaking his crew.

The rover thundered over roaring winds.

Wait. He turned translucent. Only for a second, and then reverted. The demon was gone. Or was it? Could the other him be smarter and more cunning than expected? No. He was not going to let the cold lead him to a depressive panic. No. He was not going fall drunk under it’s curse. It was not a time to overthink, a paranoia of suspicion there, now gone. It was to be ready to see a breathing face, shake hands, exchange stories. The sun rose, riddled with the frost’s daggers, heart rapidly beating, fingers overtly clenching the wheel, but the one thing that pleased him most, over the distance, a ship on the horizon! A stray rocket: perhaps his crew alerted a rocket captain upon his arrival. No time to think! Salvation! He faintly smiled.

He would drive until the shadows of sundown.

Stepping from his car, he entered with haste.

Inside the rocket he heard faraway voices:

“Hello! Is that you Captain?” Come, we’re at the port! Said Lieutenant Leon.

“Captain, is that really you? It’s been a while.” Said Williams.

“Come on in, Captain, let me shake your hand.” Said Hank.

The room had no life. There was no Hank, no crew. Rust and scrap heaps grew on the walls like jungle vines. His heart roared with fire. The monochrome returned and his mind fell from his body, from this world, into eternal darkness. He stumbled, gasping.

There, a crew, slaughtered, pale blood and dried corpses shown they died violently. Circuitries ran behind the walls mimicking voices, a telephonic radio.

Finally: Static.

The room began to speak.

A voices said, “I applaud you getting this far, at least you’re alive, right?”

The captain was silent and fell to his knees.

The voice impersonated, “Lieutenant Leon, glad to finally see you in the flesh, captain.”

“You,” David groaned.

“How’s your crew now, captain?”

“No! You!”

“It’s a shame on my part really, all those Davids who sacrificed themselves, their city to lure you here.”

“I’ll find you, make you regret what you’ve done,” replied the captain, “I couldn’t care less. I’ll reduce you all to a city of corpses!”

“You haven’t the time nor resources. You’ll be out of fuel before you reach me, the cold claim you, as you continue to walk forever to seeming nothingness! Why do you think I had you exhaust yourself? Did you think I had only one city where you could reap carnage?”

The captain felt as an iceacle. He would never reach another town. The devil, this devil was his final exorcist. He walked about, winds rising, a storm brewing, he then fell as if to worship, he grunted and mourned. Then, he heard the room call his name, he walked in glaring at the crew in disbelief.

The room once again mimicked.

Voices of his crew mocking him! “Save us, Captain! Save us, Captain!’

He rampaged through the room. He ripped through the walls. They voices laughed at him. He beat the console mercilessly. Drunk on rage, he stomped on it. Laughing turned to screaming. Wires of viper-like coils teared and lit on fire. He used the remains of the weaponry to reduce it to nothing.

Then, a long silence.

He would walk and continue to walk, searching for solace. But now, his body, a dead secret, sank deeper into his cold bones. His heart withered. A man faded to black. His eyelids were glass. His pupils were frozen white. He cramped his hands to his chest and fell face down. The snow continued to bury him.

After the spell of a pause, an invisible David watched from a city far away.

Another clone approached him.

“Hello, second David?”

“Yes, David?”

We were working on a machine.”

“Are you finally able to re-animate?”

“We need subjects. Any suggestions?”

The room, silent in the valleys. The air that blew in was cool.

“Take the other Davids out on a trip.”

“For what, exactly?”

“I need you to fetch the captain and his crew.”

He peered out into the dead city.

#sci fi #sci fi horror #science fiction #concepts #alien #poetry #poets on tumblr #poem #dystopian #dystopia

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thearchivest · 5 years ago

Text

The Bar at the Intergalactic Hotel

The Cosmic Comedy Circuit is Complete

by Drew Daniels

I met with author Jim Yoakum in New York City’s Lower East Side to discuss his works and his current projects.

Q: So what can you tell us about your Intergalactic Hotel series?

A: It’s a 4-part trilogy. The first is “The Bar at the Intergalactic Hotel.” Briefly, it’s about liminal space and outer space and the space between people. It’s followed by “Appetizers at Dawn,” and “Beer Cans on the Moon.”

Q: A 4-part trilogy?

A: Yes. There’s a sorta prequel called “Radio Free America.” I wrote in about 32 years ago, lost the manuscript, and then re-wrote it from memory.

Q: It’s sci-fi?

A: Well, it is in much the same way that “Gone With the Wind” is about race relations I suppose (laughs). The short answer is no, the long one is maybe. Here’s the official tease. Maybe it will help. Maybe not:

“One day, in 1994, just as he was poised to land a major cover story in Rolling Stone magazine, music journalist, Derek Christian, is whisked away by a mysterious man with multiple arms and tentacles, named Kent, and deposited in a luxury hotel called the Intergalactic, which is populated by beings and creatures from across the galaxy. No one remembers why they are there, who is in charge, or what exactly the hotel is. Is it a massive spaceship parked in stationary orbit on the outskirts of GN-z11? An Astral Plane of Heaven? A place where souls go between incarnations? The heavenly paradise where Osiris rules? A liminal plane located somewhere in Arizona, possibly near Tucson? A hologram? A cosmic bus depot? All Derek knows is that he feels a prisoner, and he wants answers, no matter how many gala luncheons and Champagne buffets the hotel throws.”

Q: Wow. That’s quite a lot of story.

A: And I typed it all with just two hands.

Q: It sounds a bit like a Douglas Adams, or Neil Gaiman thing.

A: Well, we’re all branches off the same tree.

Q: How do you mean?

A: We’re all connected through the late Graham Chapman of Monty Python. I used to write with him, and I curate his archives. Douglas Adams was mentored by Graham, and Adams inspired Neil Gaiman.

Q: I see. So the “cosmic comedy circuit” is complete.

A: You could say that.

Q: I just did.

A: I’ll do the jokes around here... But, yeah, I suppose so. And, of course, Graham often dipped his toe in comedic sci-fi, like the long Python sketch “Mr. Neutron” in series 4. And he and Adams wrote a sci-fi thing for Ringo Starr. So, it’s all organic.

Q: Is there to be a fifth part of the trilogy?

A: No. A 4-parter is enough.

Q: Who is your publisher?

A: I publish through KDP. (NOTE: KDP is the POD print publishing arm of Amazon)

Q: Self-publishing?

A: No. Wash your mouth out with soap! Self-publishing is vanity publishing. You pay somebody to print your book, and then you sell it out of the trunk of your car. This is true Indie publishing. Amazon prints copies when it’s ordered, they list it on Amazon, and I get full creative control and a lion’s share of the money. Plus, it costs nothing to the author. It’s a great thing.

Q: Wow. Just print?

A: No. They also do e-books (Kindle) and their ACX branch publishes audio books. Of course, being indie I can also sell on B&N (Nook), through Kobo, all of them.

Q: This is starting to sound like a plug for Amazon.

A: It’s not. They have their issues, but this is a great service. It levels the playing field for authors.

Q: When can we hope to see this?

A: Right now. All four of the trilogy are out and waiting to be adopted.

Q: Thank you for your time.

A: You’re welcome. The tab’s on you, right?

Q: Haha! No.

A; Bastard.... (smiles)

MORE ON AUTHOR JIM YOAKUM

#monty python #nail gaiman #douglas adams #sci-fi #novel #comedy #kdpamazon #kindle #nook #barnes and noble #kobo #lower east side #nyc

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zoeygreensimblr · 5 years ago

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How You get the Girl (Episode 34)

Most people start their Monday mornings with cursing the alarm clock, wishing the weekend didn't just fly by, they may have a light breakfast, a strong coffee or a cold shower to wake up. Angus starts his Mondays with push-ups and crunches, by choice, as I lay sprawled naked across the bed watching him, wishing for that strong coffee, this boy wakes up energised.

He finishes his last set of crunches, light sweat beaming off his bare chest and he slides over to the side of the bed and kisses me deeply, passionately.

"I loved my surprise baby" He tells me, cheeky smile spreading across his face.

"I have 3 others too, if you're a good boy I'll let you see me in them" I tease him and he reaches up and spanks me on my behind.

"Im always a good boy Princess" He professes and I laugh

"You're cheeky baby" I tell him as I lean in for another kiss.

"You looked hot Zoey" He tells me and I'm floored, I've never been the hot girl before, always the cute girl, but he likes cute.

"You look hot everyday Angus" I inform him and he blushes, first time I've ever seen Angus get shy.

"Only you think that Zo" He says with a little chuckle

"Ah no, I'm not, Claudia spends most of her working day checking you out, I use to watch her watching you" I laugh

"Claudia now runs Pectoral Fitness. You remember that gym in Del Sol Valley that I bought?" He informs me and I smile

"So now she can check out someone else's boyfriend." I say satisfied

"Baby, like she had a chance, I only want you, even when we were apart, it was always you" He promises me.

"You said you were looking though when I asked if you were moving on" I say sadly, thinking back to the formal.

"I was playing it cool Zoey, I couldn't just come out and tell you that I checked your Simstagram regularly for updates, I even got suspicious of Sam at one point because you were in group photos with him and I'd never met the kid, that wasn't a good day for me" He replies, matching my sadness

"Stalker"I laugh, poking him in the ribs, he scoops me up in his arms and pulls me down to where he is on the floor.

"Zoey you hate being tickled right?" He asks me knowing I detest it as his fingers move lightly under my arms, making me squirm

"Angus stop" I plead with him while laughing

"Am I a stalker?" He laughs, tickling my ribs

"No, you're my boyfriend and if you love me you will stop" I plead with him again and this time it works, he holds his hands up to show he won't tickle me anymore, I kiss his neck as a thank you and he wraps his arms around me, he feels hot and sweaty.

"Come shower with me Princess, I'll be a good boy" He promises me

"But I love it more when you're bad" I laugh

"We can't have sex in the shower Zoey" Angus tells me in a serious tone, "Not until you get back on the pill" He says kissing me, I reach up and grab my phone from the bedside table and look up doctors on the island with appointments available that morning, find one not far from us and book the appointment, he sits there watching me intently.

"Will you come with me?" I ask him

"Of course baby, I would never make you go alone" He says, kissing me softly

The island doctor is not at all like the city doctor, there's no questions asked about getting tested or if we are using other protection, this doctor just writes the prescription and sends me on my way and I have it filled at the pharmacy.

"That was easy" I exclaim, "Now what shall we do" I ask, knowing he knows the island so well

"I have something I want us to do together, it's something I like to do whenever I come out here and it's not going to be exciting or glamorous but it will be rewarding." He says and I'm curious to what it is.

We catch a small boat to one of the popular tourist beaches on the island, at first glance the beach looks like paradise with golden sand and crystal clear water but as our small boat docks I see that the beach is covered in garbage, left behind by the tourists. We walk up to the lifesavers hut where Angus introduces me to Richard, one of the lifeguards on duty.

"Here to do the dirty work again Angus?" Richard asks as he hands Angus keys to the locked shed at the side of the hut.

"I hate the way they just leave this place, no respect" Angus says as he unlocks the small shed and hands me gloves and a garbage bag then grabs supplies for himself, he locks the shed and hands the keys back to Richard and we make our way along the beach, filling our bags with garbage.

"How often do you do this?" I ask Angus

"Whenever I come to the island I like to spend a day or two cleaning up, it's like giving back to the spirits who watch over Sulani" He explains

"You never mentioned it before" I say, surprised that it has never come up before today

"It's no big deal Zo" He replies as he grabs a beer can sticking out of the sand

"It is a big deal Angus, it's selfless" I applaud him and he just gives me a small smile.

"Well now you're selfless too baby" He says, "Thank you for helping out, I'm sorry it's not as exciting as our other adventures"

"I'm happy to help and I'd be happy to help again whenever you come out" I offer

"You're a good person Zo" He says, kissing me on the cheek.

That afternoon we pack our bags to leave the hotel and drive back to the holiday home.

"We didn't have a spa" I comment as we check out, Angus looks at me and smiles

"Well we will just have to come back and try it out won't we Princess?" He offers and I'm excited.

Angus drives the scenic route back to the house, along the coastline, I see families playing in the sand and surfers riding waves, giant palm trees and even a pod of dolphins swimming far out in the ocean.

"I really do love it here" I remark as he pulls up at the house

"I should of taken you here instead of Del Sol Valley, maybe we wouldn't of broken up" He jokes

"Yeah, because the location was the issue"I laugh and he goes quiet, I place my hand on his leg to let him know that we are good, we're past it now.

"Wait here" He says, he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door, I get out and he pulls me in close to him, his cologne smells amazing.

"I had a fantastic holiday with you Angus, when we went to Del Sol Valley, I never thanked you for taking me but I loved it" I tell him and he smiles brightly.

"I'll take you back there one day, we will finish it with better memories" He promises, taking my hand and we walk into the house.

Tess is in the kitchen with Declan and you can cut the tension between them with a knife, she's snapping at every move he makes to help her prepare dinner, I've seen them have fights before but seems to be becoming more annoyed by Declan more often.

"Hey guys, do you need help?" I offer

"No thanks, I've got this"Tess shouts as she takes the chopping board away from Declan

"Are you sure because it's a lot of work, cooking for 8 people Tess" Angus pushes

"Yeah, I'm all good, if Declan would just move out of my way then I'd be able to get it all ready" She says, pushing him aside

"I'm trying to help" Declan protests

"You're not helping, you're creating more work" She snaps back at him, I can see that she's going to erupt any moment now and it's probably best to get Declan out of the firing line before she blows.

"Can you take Declan down to the beach, I'll talk to Tess" I whisper to Angus and he nods. The boys leave the room and I cautiously approach my sister.

"What's going on" I ask her

"Declan is just pissing me off and not just today, he's just so immature and makes stupid jokes , like what he said to you yesterday morning about your hand and on Friday how he made that comment about Imogen" She scoffs

"Do you think you just need some time apart? Like you've been around each other since Thursday night, maybe you just need a night off from him?" I suggest

"We've been together since year 9 Zoey, I grew up and he didn't and I see it now, I see how Angus is with you, how he doesn't make crude jokes or talk about how hot his friend's sister is. Even Sam, who is our age seems more mature than Declan. I'm just sick of his stupid humour" She cries

"Well what are you going to do?" I ask her, Tess and Declan have had fights in the past but never broken up officially, they usually make up by the next day but this feels different with the way she's talking

"I'm going to see how we are by the end of the holiday and if I'm still feeling like this then I'm going to end it." She says sadly

"I'm here for you Teresa, whatever you do" I tell her, wrapping my arms around her.

"I know Zoey" She says and I can hear the quiver in her tone. I pick up a knife and start chopping carrots and Tess adds the potatoes to the roasting pan with the turkey, together we finishing chopping the rest of the vegetables and place them in the steamer. Tess and I have always worked well together in the kitchen, I see her dark mood is lifting when she puts the radio on and starts dancing and it's hard not to get caught up in all the fun. By the time Angus and Declan have returned from the beach Tess and I are in high spirits, the bad tension is completely gone. Cassie, Sam, Annabelle and Steph arrive home, they've spent the day cruising around the island and are now looking beautifully sun kissed.

"How was last night hun?" Steph whispers to me while everyone else is busy chatting about their day.

"Really good, he liked his surprise" I tell her smiling shyly

"I'm glad he liked it and I'm sure you looked hot too" She praises me and I hug her, I love talking with Steph, it's like having a big sister who always has the best advice. I pull her outside, away from the group, away from Angus. I have questions I need to ask.

"When you and Angus were together did he make plans, for your future?" I question her and she laughs to herself

"The only plan Angus made while he was with me was how drunk he could get and Brian and I would struggle to get his ass home. He got drunk and ruined my 18th and then his 18th, our anniversary, then it became a Friday night regular thing" She tells me and I realise it's the first time she's brought up Brian.

"Is that why You and Brian ended up together?" I ask her tentatively, I know it's none of my business but I have wondered.

"Brian and Angus were like brothers, they grew up together and Brian's family took Angus in for a while after his parents died because Imogen wasn't in the right head space to be raising a teenage boy, it took Angus and Imogen a while to find their way, She had to go from being his older sister to his parent while still holding up her career. Brian and Angus did everything together until I came between them, Brian liked me and I liked Angus and Brian pulled away from Angus when we started seeing each other" She explains

"And thats why Angus started drinking?" I ask her and she nods

"He was filling a void left by Brian and still hadn't dealt with his parents deaths, he was pretty messed up I didn't know how to handle it so I'd yell at him a lot, I was very nasty to Angus because I felt neglected by him and the more angry I got the more he would drink to escape and I started leaning on Brian, calling him to come help, hoping he could pull Angus out of the dark place but Brian was everything I was missing, he was sweet and affectionate. I'm not proud of what I did but I fell in love with Brian, it wasn't just sex, we had a relationship" She informs me, I feel so bad for bringing this all back up to the surface for her but I have to know.

"Why did you and Brian break up?" I ask her

"Guilt tore us apart, he lost a brother in Angus and we both lost our friend. Angus deserved better, I deserved better, we should of ended it in high school and maybe Angus and Brian would still be friends" She says sadly

"Do you think Angus and Brian could ever be friends again? It would break my heart if I couldn't talk to Tess or Cassie ever again, surely enough water has passed under the bridge" I wonder

"I doubt it, Angus and I are friends now because he has nothing to lose by letting me back in but with Brian it's different, Brian took something from Angus and Angus wouldn't risk that happening again, not with you Zoey" She tells me, I put my arms around her to let her know that I don't pass any judgement.

"There you two are" Angus says, stepping out onto the porch with us, "I've been looking for you, dinner is ready ladies"

We go back inside and take out seats at the table and I'm grateful to Steph for being open and honest with me, my relationship with Angus is completely different to the one she had with him because he's different, he learnt from his mistakes.

Later that night, while we are lying together in bed I snuggle into Angus and he kisses me softly.

"You're a good boyfriend Angus McKenzie and a good person too" I tell him and he looks me and smiles

"Where's this coming from Zo?" He questions me

"I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you and that I love you. I like that you include me in your future plans because I see you in mine too" I say, kissing him deeply and running my fingers through his hair.

"I do have big plans for us baby" He teases as he moves his lips down to my neck and slides his hand up my thigh

"You're trying to distract me so I don't ask any questions about these plans, I'm on to you Angus" I laugh

"We should move this outside, down on the beach, under the stars" He suggests, ignoring me

"In public? Where everyone can see us?" I fret, I know I've come a long way with my social anxiety but the thought of strangers watching us isn't exactly a turn on

"It's a private beach Zoey, there's only two houses that have access and no one is staying in the other house right now, I checked it out before we came up here. Everyone's in bed, no-one will hear us" He whispers to me, "Plus I find it hard to get intimate with your sister down the hall" He confesses, winning me over.

We made love under the stars with the sound of the waves crashing and the smell of the salty sea air as he explored my my body, my captain had seduced me by the sea.

#sims4 #sims 4 get to work #sims 4 city living #sims 4 island living #simblr #sulani #wicked whims #taylor swift

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frangipanidownunder · 6 years ago

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Returning the Past: Part 5

Mulder and Scully are honeymooning in Far North Queensland. Much to Scully’s chagrin, Mulder has delved headlong into a mysterious case of strange lights, Tasmanian tiger sightings and abductions. It’s not long, before they run into trouble…

Read part 1, part 2 part 3 and part 4.

The facility ‘Eddie Romero House’ was ensconced behind a security fence. She frowned at the recurrence of the name. Years of being an investigator made it impossible to think of coincidences and serendipitous happenstance. Years of being an investigator on The X-Files showed her that even the smallest of coincidences was likely to be anything bug.

Sunlight filtered through menacing clouds and pinged off the metal pickets. Mulder buzzed the intercom and itched at the skin on his arms. A security guard walked from the main building to stand outside the gate.

“We’re looking to talk to somebody in charge,” Mulder said.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“It’s urgent we speak to somebody. It could be a matter of life and death.”

Scully looked at the ground, impacted red dirt crumbling at her footfalls. Mulder’s flair for the dramatic, coupled with this dogged insistence often got them entry into secure facilities but the guard didn’t seem impressed. They had no badges to flash, they had American accents, they had no jurisdiction.

“Professor Callow is in meetings. He won’t be available until tomorrow.”

“Callow?” Scully said, looking at Mulder. He did the customary slow blink that told her he was on the same page as her. “We’re friends of his daughter’s. Please tell him it’s urgent that he speak with us.”

The guard lifted the radio to his mouth and static crackled. She rubbed the back of her neck and Mulder paced. A pair of green and red parrots screeched past. A vehicle reversed from a steel shed to the left of the main facility, stirring up a plume of dust.

“He says he’ll see you. Follow me.”

Professor Callow was seated behind a wooden desk bearing all the hallmarks of an office that hadn’t seen a change in twenty years. A Rolodex next to a rotary dial phone, a blotter pad, a stationery holder filled with Biros, pencils, a plastic ruler, Tippex. There was a framed photo of two men, one a younger Callow, rifle propped against his shoulder, standing over the corpse of a large animal that Scully couldn’t make out. She peered at its familiarity, then recalled the crumpled version of the photo on Steph Callow’s living room floor. There were glass cabinets along each wall, containing skeletal remains and stuffed animals with blank eyes and dull fur. Faded posters on the wall depicted a variety of Australian marsupials, and directly behind the Professor’s chair was a map of Queensland.

“You know my daughter somehow?” he said, his accent clear-cut English.

“She took us on a walk through the Daintree.” Scully looked at a poster of endangered and extinct animals. Toolache wallaby – bearing similar markings to the kangaroos they’d seen that first morning, broad faced bandicoot, lesser bilby. She checked out the small signs propped up against the stuffed creatures, Eastern hare wallaby, brush-tailed bettong.

“She was a promising zoologist, she had a knack for research. Stephanie studied hard. It’s a shame.”

There was something tight about the older man, Scully thought. Something closed off. She’d seen the same thing when Mulder was returned. An outward show of vagueness that really just covered up an inability to articulate the heart of the issue. He was scared.

“What’s a shame?” Mulder asked, picking up a jar from a shelf. He held the jar out as he continued to challenge the professor, rattling the brown seed pod inside it so that it drummed with each word he spoke. “That Steph became a tour guide and not a Professor, like you?”

“No, no. It’s…her mother…the family. It was difficult. For all of us, but for Stephanie, a teenager at the time, it was. Well, she struggled.” Callow took the jar from him and set it back on the desk. His hands trembled.

“Your wife, Steph’s mother, what happened to her?” Scully watched the way he sucked in a deep, long breath, chest puffing out. The seed inside the jar, labelled Idiospermum australiense was pale yellow on the outside and a ridged red inside, reminded her of a golden apricot and she kept her eyes on it while Callow sunk back into his chair.

“She disappeared. Just vanished.” Callow’s voice was shallow, like he’d told the story so many times it was just a rote response.

She looked back at Mulder, pressing her teeth into her lower lip. She wondered if they would ever relate any of their own history like that, without the passion, without the fire needed to continually reach for justice.

“Miriam went out to buy milk and never came back. We…just carried on. You do, don’t you? But Stephanie was never the same. Went to university in Tasmania, as far away from here as she could get. She worked hard but the spark, the passion for it had gone. After she graduated she went on a gap year to South America and when she came back she couldn’t settle. She told me once that being a tour guide was a way of always looking for her mother. As though she might just find her out there in the bush somewhere all these years later,” he smiled sadly. “She likes being outdoors. Just like her mother.”

“Have you heard from her recently, Stephanie?” Scully stepped towards him. “She’s missing, Professor Callow.”

Callow shook his head, an absent expression clouding his eyes. “I’m afraid that Stephanie has often gone ‘walkabout’ as they say in these parts.”

“We were with her when a group of men dragged her into a four-wheel-drive and we haven’t seen her since. The police don’t seem interested. Her house…there was a disturbance there.”

The old man pushed himself up from his desk, knuckles turning white. “She kept some strange company too. Abductees, she called them. She was adamant she’d been abducted too. Told me fantastic tales of being on board UFOs and lights in the forest. Crazy stuff. Nobody believes that kind of thing, do they?” Callow looked at Mulder and Scully lowered her gaze, breathing through the awkward silence.

“What did you make of her company? TasTiger Tours,” Mulder said, not rising to the bait.

“Taking tourists to see thylacines in the Daintree? When she told me what she was doing I told her that people would either see her as a lunatic or a scam artist. But it seems I was wrong. There are plenty of fools…” He stopped and Mulder offered him a accepting grin. “Sorry. You are entitled to spend your dollars any way you see fit, but Tasmanian tigers have been extinct for decades and most certainly did not inhabit tropical rainforest.”

“And yet both Dr Scully and I have seen thylacines in recent days. One was inside your daughter’s home.”

Professor Callow blanched and held on to the edge of the desk. “In Stephanie’s house? That’s impossible.”

“It wasn’t so long ago that this facility was being funded to research thylacine DNA with a view to potentially reviving the species. It’s not much of a stretch to consider that the animals might have escaped and thrived in the wild.”

Callow sighed and shook his head. “You sound like Stephanie. She had a penchant for the arcane. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d faked her own abduction by this group of men, simply to get my attention. I’ve suggested she see someone, you know, a psychiatrist to help her with her troubles, but she wouldn’t be told. She seems to be a lost cause.”

Mulder continued to talk, despite the old man walking past him to the door. “There are precedents where animals have created their own enclaves in non-native regions. The fabled big cat stories around the world can be explained in this way.”

Callow opened the office door. “What you say is true, Mr Mulder. And I may agree, except for the fact that my project never created a single live specimen. The trials all failed.”

Mulder swigged from the water bottle as she drove. The light outside was weak and grey. “What do you think, Scully. Is he involved?”

“He was frightened, Mulder. I saw a man cowed not just by the weight of his wife and daughter being missing, but by fear.”

“He certainly knows more than he was letting on, Scully.”

She watched him lean his head against the window. “You need to rest, Mulder. You still look like you’re running a fever.”

“I’m fine. I just need to clear my head to think. Callow’s experiments didn’t yield a live thylacine, according to him. Yet we know they exist. What would be the purpose of recreating extinct animal lines, Scully? Where does that fit in with the abductions, the lights? And why would the police dismiss the case? Even if Steph was well known in these parts as someone with a psychiatric history, why deny she even existed?”

“I’ve been thinking about that too, Mulder. And did you notice the name of the guard at the front gate?”

He turned to her, cheeks flaming. “No, what was it?”

“Galea. Same as the police officer.”

They drove to the police station. The car park was deserted. Grey clouds pushed low over their heads and Scully scratched at the back of her neck. Mulder was slow to get out of the car. A sheen of sweat sparkled across his brow. She walked up the steps and rapped at the door. No answer.

“Do you get a weird feeling, Mulder?”

He didn’t answer but mopped at his forehead with the back of his hand. His chest rose and fell laboriously. She twisted the handle and pushed at the door. It didn’t budge. “If this is a joke, I don’t like the Australian sense of humour. Mulder,” she said, stepping back down to where he was leaning against the car door. “Get back in the car, out of the heat. Drink the water. I’m going around the back.”

She knew he was sick when he complied without complaint. There were garden beds either side of the building, leaf litter piled high. Tall palms swayed on the increasing breeze and a pair of bird of paradise plants pecked at the empty air with their resplendent bronze beaks. The windows of the house were covered in cobwebs and the side door was locked. How had they not noticed the state of the place when they spoke with Officer Galea? Who were the other people in the building? Were there other people? She peered through the dirty glass of the back door but saw nothing but the marks of a building that hadn’t been inhabited for a while.

A car engine caught her attention and she hurried back round. A small blue SUV swung into the gravelled space next to their hire car and a middle-aged couple got out.

“If you’re looking for the police station, you need to head back that way, to Port Douglas. This one hasn’t been used for a few years now.”

“We were looking for Officer Galea,” Scully said, keeping an eye on Mulder, who was leaning his face against the window.

The woman shrugged. “The last copper here was Sergeant Blythman and she left to have a baby. That baby’s at primary school now. We just tidy up the yard. Len, give me that fertiliser. Those plants need a good feed.”

Scully opened the driver’s side door, but turned back to the couple. “Have you ever seen strange lights in this area? Blue lights?”

“You’re Americans.” Len joined his wife.

“We’re here on our honeymoon,” Scully said, as much to remind herself as to inform the couple. “We came here to report a crime here just the other day. Now it’s empty.”

The couple continued to remove gardening equipment from the back of the car.

“Who is Eddie Romero?” Scully asked. “It’s the name of a local research facility. It’s the name of one of the forest tracks. Our accommodation is Romero Sands.”

“He’s no-one special,” the woman said. “Enjoy your honeymoon. Go swimming. Do some bushwalking, but don’t stray off the tourist tracks. Have a nice time. Go home to your families.”

“Do you know Steph Callow?”

The woman exchanged looks with her husband. “Who are you?”

Mulder got out of the car, his body sagging. “What’s going on in this town? What are you afraid of?”

“We’re not scared,” the woman said, straightening up. “We’re just invisible. Nobody listens to us. They just want people to come here, spend their money. The tourist dollars rule. It’s like that film with the sharks, isn’t it, Len? You know the one, where the mayor of the island won’t shut the beaches down for the long weekend.”

“Jaws,” Scully said, looking over at Mulder. “Have people been hurt here? Killed?”

The woman looked at Len. “They’ve disappeared. But the government people say that they just lost their way, the forest is dangerous if you’re not careful.” She walked up to Scully and took her hand. “You two look like lovely young people. You don’t need anything like that happening to you. It’s the worst thing. People go missing and you never know what’s happened. You live every day like they might just come home and fling their coat across the hall and sit on their favourite chair and ask for a cup of tea, you know? It’s cruel, is what it is. Hope and dreams. It’s just cruel.” She rolled her lips together and took a long, slow breath. “You take care now. Come on, Len. It’s going to rain soon. Let’s spread this stuff and get home.”

Mulder groaned in his sleep, deep guttural sounds that held fear. She often wondered how he processed all that happened to him. Besides the abject terror of the abduction, he had faced the death penalty. They had spent months on the run, looking over their shoulders, living out of cheap motels and even cheaper cars. He held it in, he held it together, mostly. She knew he thought he had to be strong for her, as she did for him. They both drove for days wearing their stoicism like armour. Back then, she knew the day would come where one of them would crack. She lay odds that it would be her first. That she would flip tables and throw away the hair dye and the Walmart underwear. That she would call her mother and write her brother. That she would tell Mulder she didn’t really love him and that she was leaving. That she would lie to save him. To save them both.

But in a long-forgotten town, in a long forgotten state, she returned with two bags of groceries and found him balled up in the corner of the darkened room, furniture broken around him, sobbing. The bags dropped to the floor and split open spilling the tins and packets in front of her. She let him cry against her chest until his tears soaked her vest. He didn’t talk, didn’t need to. She was grateful for that desolate place, grateful for the onerous skies and the stares of the townsfolk, grateful for the one store and flickering neon motel sign, grateful for the gritty coffee and the faulty ice machine. It drew out his sorrow and suffering and pushed hers down. She would never leave him. She would never lie to him.

Now, she dabbed his brow with a cool washcloth, then pressed it around the back of her neck, easing the itch there. Wherever Steph Callow had gone, the dark forces in the forest were responsible. But with Mulder tossing fitfully by her side, there was no way they could go forward with any kind of investigation. She’d have to find a doctor’s surgery in the morning. He needed treatment.

“The light was so bright, Scully. It was so bright it felt like my eyes had been sliced open and silver was poured inside.” He pushed himself up and bunched the sheet across his lap. His voice was groggy, his skin tacky to touch. She gave him water. “I dreamt that Steph Callow was there with me, on that ship, Scully. She was trapped too, helpless and that bright light burned her and she burst into flames.”

While Scully made tea, he played with the remote, and a news anchor read out details of a mysterious death locally.

A member of the public called in the discovery of the body. At this stage, the police have not issued any details of the circumstances or the victim but there is a presence at Eddie Romero House.

“It’s Professor Callow,” Mulder said, calling her back to the bedroom. “He’s been killed.”

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #returning the past #aussie casefile #to be continued #getting this thing uploaded so i can forget about it #if the ratio of notes gets any lower it'll be in the negatives #is that a thing?#negative notes #maybe i can be the first writer to go minus notes

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podparadiseradio · 5 months ago

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#pod paradise radio #podcast #zouk retro #djinfiniti

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podcast-song-showdown · 2 years ago

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Let's hear some comments from our sobbing audience:

"it’s absolutely so perfect for the scene it’s coming from. it’s going through hell, repeatedly, day after day after day, all of it just to have even a sliver of a chance at survival. It’s despair, it’s despondence, and it’s so, so delicious. officer eiffel’s no good very bad space time, even more so than the rest of the pod"

"I discovered this song through Wolf 359 and it’s one of the only songs I have introduced my friends to that they all love. It’s simply a beautiful wonderful song and I love it very much"

"emotional impact go brrrrr"

#w359 spoilers #Bandcamp #Spotify

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your-dietician · 4 years ago

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Summer dreams dry up on the Russian River, a paradise whipsawed by drought, flood and fire

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/latest/summer-dreams-dry-up-on-the-russian-river-a-paradise-whipsawed-by-drought-flood-and-fire/

Summer dreams dry up on the Russian River, a paradise whipsawed by drought, flood and fire

The Russian River, just north of drought-stricken Lake Mendocino in Ukiah, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

If there was any respite to be found, it was here on the Russian River.

A river otter popped up next to Larry Laba’s inflatable canoe, then dived down with a plop. A yellow swallowtail butterfly, big as a hand, fluttered past.

Yet everywhere were signs of the West’s ever-intensifying drought, with the Russian River taking the early hit.

Laba, the owner of Russian River Adventures, who had paddled this river hundreds of times over 20 years, made note of unfamiliar things that made him uneasy.

Larry Laba, owner of Russian River Adventures, paddles down the Russian River in Healdsburg, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

The river was at a historic low. A hot wind blew through the canyon, when summer breezes here are usually gentle and cool. The leaves of the cottonwood trees made a brittle, crackling sound. The same trees, way up high, had cracked branches from a devastating flood in 2019.

Just below the water’s surface, Laba noted colonies of an algae he’d never seen. Then there was his worry over algae he couldn’t yet see. In 2015, during a terrible drought, his dog Indy — whom he described as a dumb, happy-go-lucky retriever no one could resist — died of a seizure on the river. The next week, a 2-year old golden retriever died on one of the trips run by Laba’s company. This time officials pinpointed the cause as a fast-acting neurotoxin from blue-green algae. The algae occurs naturally, but when temperatures rise and water is warm and stagnant, it blooms and releases poisons.

The Russian River area holds a panoply of California treasures: majestic redwoods, ocean mists, summer sun, famed wineries, breweries and a casual, come-as-you-are culture that mixes high-brow with hippie and a bit of barn party.

Receding water levels forced a closure of the north boat ramp at Lake Mendocino in Ukiah, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

It also sits at the center of climate-related disasters. After the drought, which ended in 2017, came fires that burned across eight Northern California counties, killing 23 people. In late February 2019, at the tail end of the wet season, rain pelted down without halt. Some of the area’s mountains saw 400% more than the average amount of rain for the month. The river flooded, cresting at 45-feet, the highest in more than two decades. The river valley towns of Guerneville and Monte Rio became islands, with automobile parts and pieces of buildings floating past. Restaurants that sat on cliffs 30 feet above the river were under water.

Story continues

In August 2020, walls of fire surrounded those same towns as more than 12,000 residents evacuated through smoke and ash. Vineyards burned and beloved cabins turned to tinder. Up and down the West Coast, fires raged, sparked by a combination of extreme heat and a lightning siege. For weeks, this valley — which usually has air so fresh that you can taste the ocean — registered some of the worst air quality in the world.

Laba said he avoids thinking about what all of it — drought, fires, floods, lightning sieges, heat waves — means.

Merganser ducks on the Russian River in Healdsburg, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

“Look, I can’t go there,” said the 69-year old. “I’m not a worrier. I can’t lay awake at night thinking about climate change. I look around and if there is something I can do —even if I know it won’t make that much of a difference — I do it.”

He spotted tall stalks of scarlet wisteria on the banks, flashing their bright flowers. He beached the canoe.

“They’re huge water-suckers. They’re invasive,” he said, trying to pull up a plant that showed no signs of budging. But Laba pulled and strained until it came up by the roots and couldn’t produce pods to scatter seeds.

Michele Wimborough, left, owner of Hazel restaurant in Occidental, Calif., chats with guests Rahna Schiff, right, and Keith Holamon. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

That evening, farther down river, in the small community of Occidental, off Bohemian Highway, Michele Wimborough stepped outside of a cozy restaurant that was as much a dream as a business.

She and her chef-husband Jim, former Bay Area residents, had searched for years for just the right small town where they wanted to live and raise their son. They opened Hazel, named after Jim’s grandmother, in 2015.

This night was one of their first with in-house dining since before the COVID-19 pandemic, and the restaurant was packed. Earlier, Wimborough had wondered if she’d miss when it was just her family inside, alone, making to-go meals. But she had found herself laughing and happy to be in a crowd.

Now, after the dinner rush, she stood outside, tipped up her face and breathed in a cool mist that was slowly enveloping the town.

Part of the reason was that it gets hot running around a restaurant, but the other was that such moisture was becoming rare.

A canoe floats past an exposed gravel bar, right, on the Russian River in Healdsburg, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

She had been caught off guard by notices pleading with residents to cut water use by 20% to 40% and the news of an emergency water regulation that cut river water rights for up to 2,300 wineries and farms. The restrictions were aimed at keeping the Lake Mendocino reservoir from going dry before summer’s end. Similar cuts are expected soon in California’s other watersheds.

While she was preoccupied with COVID-19, the drought had sneaked up on her.

“I feel like so much has happened that I can’t keep track of it all,” she said.

Just in her tight circle of friends, five families had moved away, people who had planned to stay forever, driven out by fear of disaster.

Wimborough said that by nature she is anxious. But that had changed over the last five years. Now, she steadfastly clings to a stubborn optimism.

Joseph Lustenberger, 15, jumps off a railroad bridge footing into the Russian River in Healdsburg, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

“I definitely believe in climate change. But I concentrate on ‘We’re going to keep going and it’s going to be OK’ — until it’s not,” she said.

“I love it here and this is a beautiful moment and I’m grateful we were safe for one more day.”

The Russian River begins in the mountains north of Ukiah in Mendocino County and cuts a winding path to the Pacific Ocean. The Pomo Indians once trapped salmon in its pools, before water was diverted. The river gets its modern name from Russian Ivan Kuskov of the Russian-American Company, who explored it in the early 19th century and founded Ft. Ross. It was the Russians who first planted grapes in the wine region.

Outside of Sebastopol, not far from the sea but worlds away from bustle, or even cell service, Eric Susswell, owner of Radio-Coteau, makes wines that he said are meant to capture place and a particular moment in time.

Land once underwater is exposed by receding water levels on Lake Sonoma in Geyserville, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

His water comes from domestic wells, not river allocations or a municipality, but the drought gripping this land of red barns, grapevines, goats and sunflowers will still be in this year’s vintage — if they can get the grapes to harvest. Last year Radio Cocteau barely got the crop in before smoke damage. Many other wineries lost their grapes.

Radio-Coteau’s vineyard is one of the few Demeter-certified estates in the U.S., meaning it meets a set standard for a bio-diverse organic farm. That includes methods such as mulching, no-till farming and monitoring moisture to improve soil — something akin to the farming version of holistic healthcare.

Sussman, who studied organic viticulture at Cornell and trained in France, said he considers his farm a living organism in its entirety, plants that become resilient with a good root system.

The water level has been steadily receding at Lake Sonoma in Geyserville, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

“There is an intelligence in their ability to adapt,” he said. “It gives me some sense of hope.”

Some vines on his property date to 1945. Sussman said they sustain his faith that seasons will pass and the vineyards will continue.

“I’m not blasé about climate change,” he said. “But I’m not watching all of this from high above. I’m down on the ground right in the thick of it, day by day making decisions about sustainability.”

Nine miles south of Healdsburg, another group of pleasure seekers had paddled down the river.

Beachgoers enjoy the cool water at Monte Rio Beach on the Russian River in Monte Rio, Calif. (Brian van der Brug / Los Angeles Times)

Mathew Knobel, 19, who works for Laba, was waiting to greet them at the end of their trip with hoots and hollers.

He tried to be supportive when they were visibly stunned by how low the river was, how there were spots where they had to get out of their boats and walk.

“People get really emotional when they see it for themselves,” Knobel said. “It’s almost shock and awe.”

It’s not a reaction he shares.

“To be very honest, in my lifetime, I haven’t been able to experience anything different,” he said. “I’m 19. By the time I was old enough to have a consciousness about climate change, it was here.

“It’s not that I’m not concerned,” he added.

“But to me, drought, fires and floods are what’s normal.”

This story originally appeared in Los Angeles Times.

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indominusregina · 8 years ago

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The Sound of You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None? Just fluffy stuff :)

Word Count: 819

A/N: I signed up a while ago for @amarvelouswritings 700 follower challenge! My song was “Trumpets” by Jason Derulo and if I’m honest, I had this written within maybe three hours of signing up, but I really, really struggled with the title. Hope you like it, and congrats to Bee on 700 followers!

Steve wonders if he'll ever get used to the sound of music in this century.

The use of technology in place of the pure sounds of instruments and crooning voices of his heyday is jarring in comparison. He’d given it a shot, sure. No one could say that Steve Rogers didn’t try. Whenever the radio was left on, he’d sit and listen, lightly bobbing his head along to a catchy beat, but he’d still return to the comfort of his records when left alone.

It isn’t until he meets you that he thinks that maybe music doesn’t have to be just what comes over the radio or the e-pod or whatever the hell Tony called that pocket device he had to play his songs. It’s when you start to speak that he hears a tinkling in your voice that sounds like bells. When you train in the gym, and even in battle, he hears scores of music composed in his head. He looks at you and it’s as if you’re not just swinging your body at your next target; you’re dancing to a song that he can hear, a sweet melody that crescendos every time the action around you swells.

When he finally gets the courage to ask you on a date, the sound of your agreement makes him want to dance even more than Count Basie ever had. He restrains himself, barely, but the thought flashes through his head that his waiting to dance could all have been worth it for the right partner. You.

Of course, his thoughts aren’t all innocent. He’s a warm-blooded male after all, with his blood made warmer still by the serum coursing through his veins. When you leave him behind, he hears violins playing a sad melody as you wave goodbye with a wink and a promise to be back soon. As his eyes drift over your retreating form, the violins are quickly drowned out by a more carnal beat. Entire albums could be written about that ass, he thinks. When you catch him ogling you, he has the decency to blush, but when you smirk and swing your hips just a little bit more, that beat returns, and he cocks an eyebrow at you while crossing his arms. Trumpets accompany the beat, and he shakes his head as you blow him a kiss before the door of the quinjet closes behind you.

The first time he takes you to bed, he swears that an entire chorus of angels is within you, and he does everything in his power to let them sing. As if your body was an instrument designed especially for him, he masterfully pulls each sound he can from your lips, filling the room with noises even sweeter than he could have imagined. Entire symphonies compose themselves in his head as your bodies tangle in the sheets, and when his name spills from your mouth as he sends you soaring, he thinks that God himself couldn’t dream to have an angel like you in his choir.

Yes, Steve thinks, he could get used to the sound of music in this century.

When you open your eyes each morning, a sleepy smile spreading across your face as he brushes your hair behind your ear, he’s reminded of a song he heard on the radio. Maybe the musicians of this era didn’t have it all wrong. Kissing you until you were both breathless and laughing really did feel like paradise.

Steve slowly adjusts to the sounds of contemporary music with you as his guide. The song you dance to when you think no one’s watching quickly becomes a favourite of his, as do the tracks you hum when you clean the space you now share. He finds a few pieces of his own, surprising you as he tugs you into a dance and spinning you until you’re dizzy.

The rhythm of the life the two of you now share becomes his go-to sound when he needs comfort, records not quite forgotten, but not quite necessary either. When you’re not around, the scores of Duke Ellington can still soothe him. Sweet melodies lull him into a sense of security until you’re back in his arms, making the melodies even sweeter.

But, Steve thinks, not even the sweetest symphony could compare to the sound of your breathless yes when he proposed.

#steve rogers x reader #marvel fic #fic challenge #reader insert

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baronfulmen · 8 years ago

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Story 224: On the Ends of Goods and Evils

NOTE: This one is pretty shitty, but it’s almost midnight so I’m posting it.

The last feed went out, leaving the world outside a horrific mystery. The harsh blue light from the screen that was now showing only a 'NO INPUT' message soon faded as Gerald turned everything off, forever. The monitoring room was done. He thought he could already tell a difference. He was certain that now, a month after the bombs began to fall, they were finally alone. All alone.

Just the eight of them here below, and death up above.

Gerald climbed up the ladder to the stasis room, where twelve shining pods lay waiting. More than enough to fit them, if they all worked. Instead the spares had already been gutted for parts, hollow under that shining facade. Out of the dozen stasis pods, only one was fully functional. Gerald felt cheated. He had contributed the money, back when money meant anything. That should have been enough. But now they wanted him to clean sewage recyclers and scrape algae out of the dehumidifier. Things he shouldn't have to do not only because of his monetary gift but because they should have all been in stasis pods by now instead of listening to Karen's 'plan B' for surviving and building an outpost above ground once things "calmed down".

Gerald knew planning for the future was idiotic. There was no future, up there - just a painful radioactive death. He should have been in the one working pod, plunged forever into a virtual reality paradise. He had modeled it - well, had it modeled - after the house he grew up in. He had grown up spending days lounging in his father's library, and now in the virtual world it would be ten times as large. The life support would link with his neural implants and after a few months his body would die and his mind would be inside the machine. That library could entertain him for a hundred years or more, and then maybe he would even dive into the less cerebral realm of television and movies.

But they wouldn't let him.

"We need every set of hands," Karen would say. While Kylie and Jason worked on fixing the other seven pods he had persuaded Ian to keep putting finishing touches on Gerald's one working pod. But now... he wondered if that was even the right choice. What would stop one of the others from using it, to escape Karen's dictatorship? They all seemed eager to help, but Gerald knew that couldn't be the case. They must all feel the death lurking above them, surely one of them would soon snap and take his rightful place in that dream world.

There was a clanking on the ladder, and Ian came into view. "I was just thinking about you," Gerald said, "I wanted to ask you... is the simulation ready? Would I be able to go in now?" Ian rested his arms on the floor around the ladder. "Um. Yeah, sure. Absolutely. I mean, I've just been tweaking things, it's ready to go. I just have to... um. Hey, why are you asking? Didn't we agree we'd go together or not at all? You know Karen says -" Gerald stomped on Ian's head, sending him down the ladder.

He ignored the yelling, as he fastened the hatch. The stasis room was built to be the most secure spot in the bunker, and while they might eventually break in it would be too late to betray him. Gerald suspected Karen would even convince the rest to just leave him alone, so she could push them harder towards her insane dream of moving back to the surface. It had only been a month, the last of the bombs were still falling. She would be trapped for her whole life with that stupid, unreachable dream.

Gerald closed the lid of the pod over himself, and felt his implants engage.

The library looked amazing. It even smelled right. Positioning the wide chair by the window, he went to pick out a book. Grabbing one at random - after all, he would eventually read them all - he sat down to begin his new lifetime.

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat."

That couldn't be right. He put down the book, pulled another from the shelf. "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet..." Another. "Lorem ipsum..." Another. And another.

Fine, Gerald thought. There was a help system, in the form of a butler. He rang the small golden bell on the end table, and a dignified man in a severe suit walked in. "I need to adjust the language settings, I think." "Sed ut perspiciatis, unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam eaque ipsa, quae ab illo inventore veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt, explicabo." "English. Set everything to English." "Nemo enim ipsam voluptatem, quia voluptas sit, aspernatur aut odit aut fugit, sed quia consequuntur magni dolores eos, qui ratione voluptatem sequi nesciunt, neque porro quisquam est, qui dolorem ipsum, quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit, sed quia non numquam eius modi tempora incidunt, ut labore et dolore magnam aliquam quaerat voluptatem." "No, no, no. Just... go. Get out."

The butler didn't move. Gerald stormed past him and into the media room. He turned on the television, and was confronted with a menu of Lorem Ipsum, Lorem Ipsum, Lorem Ipsum. The computer. A cookbook in the kitchen. A droning voice on the radio. "Ian! Very funny, Ian!" But it wasn't funny. As the cold shock of the situation started to fade to numbness, he thought back and reassessed the last few weeks. Gerald had to admit that he might have been a bit hasty. Possibly there had been some psychological side effects from living in a bunker for a month watching the world end. And just maybe he shouldn't have assaulted Ian before he was totally done. Or, he grudgingly thought, at all. But he had gotten his wish. After a fashion. Freedom from the lurking specter of death. Trapped for his whole life with this stupid, unreachable dream.

Gerald fished around until he found a ream of blank paper in a drawer. He took a pen from the jar on the desk, and sat down to refill the library.

#short fiction #too much like that twilight zone episode #also generally bad #though I still like the idea #lorem ipsum

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lennarrrt · 8 years ago

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※ Bots without Boots ※

an OnGoing Poem af MrZ ✒ renku / 連句 ~ the 1st 1000 lines …

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bike42 · 6 years ago

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San Juan Islands / Victoria BC - Days 10-12 - Fri-Sun August 23-25, 2019 Kayak Adventure

We arrived at our Sea Quest meeting place at 7:50am and saw a group already gathered there. A group of 4 ladies from Atlanta greeted us, and from there we learned that we’d actually be two groups out on the same adventure. Soon we were joined by a single guy (Rob) and two other couples, and 4 college friends from Texas (including Joe that actually lives in Colorado). At a little after 8am, two vans from Sea Quest arrived, one pulling a trailer with the kayaks.

The respective drivers jumped out and read off the names of their groups: the ladies, one couple and Rob went with Ben, and the rest of us were paired with Jonathan.

Like any new group, we were sizing each other up. When I’m assessing, I generally look for compatibility in skill level (personality assessment is formed during the trip). The guys seemed extremely experienced, but I had serious reservations with the other couple (lack of water shoes and waterproof clothing for starters).

We climbed into our vans with our guides and began our drive to the other side of the island, stopping by the guide house along the way to pick up extra sleeping bags and pads for the couple (along with two other people to shuttle the vans back).

We drove to a county park launch site just north of Lime Kiln State Park. I recognized landmarks from our cycling trip and it felt neat to be so familiar with San Juan island!

Lots of help unloading the vans and getting everything carried to the beach. After waiting so long for this adventure, I think we all were very excited to get going. Most were familiar with the drill, stash your gear in the boat dry wells and start splitting up the common gear and stash that too. The couple however were clearly new to this, and when it came time for Jonathan to have us put on PFDs and spray skirts, then practice getting snapped into our cockpits, she had a panic attack. They had a huddle with Jonathan and decided to back out of the trip. I felt bad for them, but secretly glad as it wouldn’t have been the same trip with completely inexperienced trip mates. They should have somehow been screened out, as this is serious stuff - not uncommon for kayakers to have to be rescued by the Coast Guard out here.

I hadn’t mentioned that as we were gathered in Friday Harbour it started to drizzle. Rain wasn’t really forecast, but we quickly got into our “it is what it is” mode. It wasn’t too cool and we had the gear, so misery factor was very low. The subdued light made it better for searching for Marine life anyway!

We set out and our group was well matched for paddling. Not that it mattered, but as a group we were stronger than Bens group. We headed north along Haro straight with awesome views of Vancouver Island and the Olympic Peninsula beyond that. I had a big grin on my face; it was so exhilarating to finally be doing this (one of the first things I had on my bucket list when I first started actually keeping a written list).

Soon we started seeing salmon (pinks) jumping out of the water all around us. It was fun - better than fireworks! Impossible to not exclaim out loud each time!! I kept hoping we’d see a pod of Orcas come to eat them, but that didn’t happen for us (at least on day one).

We also started seeing Harbor Seals hauled out on rocks along the shore. Sometimes solo, but more often in groups. They had young with them, and Jonathan instilled in us how important it is not to disturb them. Should be common sense, but it is so tempting to get closer and get good photos.

We also saw several sets of Harbor Porpoises, they’d do 4 or 5 shallow dives, then disappear in a deep feeding dive.

After a bit, we stopped along a rocky protected beach to stretch our legs and have a snack. Then back in the boats, still traveling north along the shore. Amazing how big the island is when you’re trying to get around it by kayak.

We alternated between cruising along, with quiet moments of drifting and watching salmon jump, porpoises dive and seals flop around.

Then we had a lot more boat activity as well as developments along shore, and Jonathan told us we’re now just outside Roche Harbor on San Juan Island. We stopped as a small “park” island where there we two campsites (already occupied) and a toilet. From here, we’d cross the Speiden channel and head to our campsite. The sky was clearer, just light clouds and I was warm enough to shed my rain jacket layer by then.

Jonathan explained that part of the reason we were lollygaging earlier was that the timing of our crossing needs to be just right due to tides and currents, and also it seems calm, but wind can whip up fast and take us off course. Exactly the reason we’re out here with a guide!!

We crossed directly over to Spieden island, pointing in a direction opposite of where we wanted to end up, and with the current then, we ended up perfectly. As we were just entering the channel, the ferry to Sidney BC cruised through the channel, looking exceptionally large from our perspective!

Then we cruised the shore of Spieden Island, heading west now. Along the shore we saw many Harbor Seal colonies. We also saw a majestic looking pair of bald eagles high on a tree above a colony (Jonathan said he’d once seen an eagle eating a baby seal, the kind of nature I know has to happen but I’d rather not see!). The island has a large expanse of what looks like dead grass, and all along there we saw Moufflon sheep, apparently having been introduced to the island when someone was trying to establish a hunting camp. Even Jonathan was excited about how many we could see.

From there, we could see the slot of Reed Harbor on Stuart Island, we’d camp at the end of the harbor tonight! I’m not going to lie, when we turned into the harbor and saw how far it was until the end, I felt pretty discouraged! I’d pushed hard to cross the channel and I was exhausted!

The tour to the back of the bay was beautiful. There were a variety of boats moored there, mostly sailboats. Jonathan chatted with the folks on deck as we passed. He and his girl friend live on a sailboat in Friday Harbour and are readying it to sail to Baja Mexico some winter (he actually grew up living on a sailboat in Friday Harbour!).

As we got close to the landing, we passed a swim platform that had a baby seal hauled out in it with two adults swimming around it. We would have loved to see them jump up on it, but we were probably a perceived threat. Jonathan said they come at it super fast and fly out of the water. When they land, they bounce around a bit!

We landed at 6pm. Gorgeous wooded camp site in a state forest. Pit toilet, plenty of firewood, compost bin - good living! We hauled everything out of the boats and set up tents and got our stuff settled while Jonathan set up to make dinner (with JT as sous chef). Dinner was vegetarian burritos and our trip mates from Texas brought along boxes of red wine - heaven! As if it couldn’t be any better, Jonathan lit a fire and we had brownies for dessert!

Blissful night of sleep with the quiet and campfire smoke. Paradise camping!!!

Jonathan said he’d monitor the weather overnight and wake us up “at the crack of dawn” if we needed to move early due to weather.

About 4:45am, we heard music! It was Jonathan playing a guitar and singing “Summertime.” It was wonderful! He promised coffee would be ready by the time we packed up our tent.

The guys were experienced packers and soon we were slugging coffee and hauling the gear back to the beach. The light was amazing, and the view would change with every trip down to the beach. By 7am we were loaded and taking our pre-launch selfie.

Jonathan said there was weather coming about noon, just for an hour, but he suggested we paddle back to Posey Island and set up camp there and then make a proper breakfast! It was a gorgeous morning as we paddled back across the channel, but the clouds were moving in from the West and I agreed this was a good plan.

There were still campers there when we arrived about 9a, but we moved into the site overlooking the channel anyway. We unloaded the boats and Jonathan set about erecting the rain tarp over the tables. It was just a drizzle, yet we were glad when we got the tents set up and our gear stowed. Not quite sure how we lost a few hours there, but we had a fabulous brunch at 11:30 (egg sandwiches with similar ingredients from our burritos last night: fresh tomatoes and avocado, salsa, cheese).

After that, the group decided a nap was in order! We retreated to our tents. I read and napped and heard occasional rain on the tent, happy to be snuggly inside.

When we emerged, it was a different day. Blue skies, abundant sunshine and a nice breeze. We snacked for a bit and watched the seals in the water around the island. One was breaching and slamming down into the water - not sure why but it was like he was performing for us (like the salmon were yesterday!).

Then we headed out for a three hour paddle to the East. We were heading down the channel, views of islands and water to our left - houses and docks on the right. Jonathan heard some chatter about whale sightings over the marine radio, but too far from where we were at! We stopped at a kelp bed and he told us a bit about how various marine life needs it to thrive - and then we ATE some, we really did! It wasn’t bad, and with peanut butter, it was really good!

Paddled back to camp - about 3 hours in the boat and I was cramping up! Sat around chatting, drinking wine and having more snacks ... waiting for dinner. Fresh air and exercise makes me hungry!!!

As we were sitting around chatting, Jonathan came back around the island and pointed out a seal that was sleeping on the rocks just about 10 feet from us. We got up and took photos, and it continued to sleep, occasionally sneezing and loudly yawning. After about 30 minutes, he started moving around a bit more. Rubbing his eyes, scratching himself! The tide was just about reaching him and it was so cool to see him roll around a bit, and then bounce a few times and dive back into the water.

We continued to watch the sunset and wait for dinner (several hour process). At one point I was out on the rocks looking at the last remnant of the sunset and a kayak going by yelled “Orcas!” I thought it was worth checking out. I was halfway down the beach when I heard the characteristic “pffft!” I yelled for the others and continued down the beach. They were traveling fast, but I saw 4 of them as they traveled down the channel - too dark for photos, but a magical end to a great day!

Sunday morning we got a later start. I was up at 6, but it was closer to 7am before Jonathan serenaded us and told us to start “rustling.” We packed up while he made us French toast with blueberries and bananas. Both mornings he also made amazing coffee using a locally roasted blend and a French press.

We set out about 9:15am, cutting through the inside of Henry Island. That route took us across the mouth of Roche Harbor and the power boats and seaplanes were driving me a little bonkers and messing with my mojo! Soon we were back in a channel, and a little out of the chaos. We passed a small rock island that had about a dozen seals hauled out on it, including a mom and a baby. Another baby climbed out of the water and bounced its way up to the mom - so adorable!

At the south end of Henry Island, Jonathan heard via the main radio that there were Orcas just ahead of where we were! We paddled fast, and to the south in the Haro Straight we could just make out the “blows” and a little bit of dorsal fin. We couldn’t tell if they were heading south, or north towards us - but soon they were getting closer! Another guide, Casey was out further with his two guests (ladies also from Texas) and it appeared they were right in the whale’s path - super exciting! We headed south, anticipating the whales would turn in to the head of Henry’s Island and they did! We met up with Casey’s group and rafted our 6 boats together. Jonathan had told us Orcas sometimes think that’s interesting, and it proved to be true. They were all around us, putting on a show! Spy hops (where they just get their head up and look around), full breaches, dorsal slaps, tail flips, they showed us all of their moves. Words can’t describe the joy and delight this brought to us! I tried to take some video and photos, but it was so much better to just enjoy the moment.

I’m not sure how the guides know this, but the Orcas last night supposedly belonged to a “transient” pod, and what we saw today was the “J pod of the Southern Residents.”

We spent an hour with the Orcas, then they moved on to the south. By that time, I was ready to get out of the boat anyway! We paddled north and landed on a beautiful beach where we had lunch and a stretch break.

Since we’d messed around a bit, Jonathan thought we’d be fighting a bit of current and wind as we paddled back to the launch and that was the case! We powered through it, which is better than slogging along. Just before our turn there was a commercial boat harvesting salmon - I say harvesting not fishing because they were hauling in huge nets full. Jonathan was not happy about that. They have a moratorium on salmon fishing for the general public due to the decline in the salmon population (which directly affects the Orca population) but operations like this somehow get permits. Anyway - it’s fun to see a 23 year old so passionate about the cause!

Back to the park where we’d launched about 1:45pm. Warm and sunny, looked a little different than when we left in the rain on Friday. We unloaded our boats and stuffed everything in the trailer. Someone back at the crew office has a lot of clean up to do (Jonathan has a lot of strengths, but cleaning and organizing aren’t among them). We drove back to Friday Harbor with Jonathan talking more about the salmon and the Orca. Two of the Texas guys were science teachers so they always added interesting questions / viewpoints to the conversation!

We said our goodbyes and climbed the hill back to the hotel where we’d left 4 bags Friday morning. Our same clerk was delightful and gave us access to a conference room where we could open and organize all of our bags, clean up a bit and at least change into clean clothes. After that we had 45 minutes until our ferry came, so we hauled our bags to the dock and got a sandwich / latte / smoothie while we waited for our ninth and final ferry of the trip.

This ferry was operated by a private company - the San Juan Clipper, runs between Victoria BC, Friday Harbor and downtown Seattle. The boat wasn’t as nice as some of the state run ferries we’d ridden on, and they were out of chowder and chili, but said they had a few hotdogs left?! Plus it was sold out, so fairly crowded, and a jovial crowd on Sunday evening! We read, napped, snacked. I was glad I had my iPod along as the crowd was just a little too much right then and I needed to chill.

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