#river ripple is huge btw

[jayzzu]

whatever go my grayripple

[springday-aus]

Disney Prince!AU with Wonho [Hoseok]

★ Wonho [Lee Hoseok] as Disney’s Hercules ★

moodboard link 

Group: Monsta X

Member: Lee Wonho / Hoseok

Genre: fluff, romance

part of the Disney Prince series 

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: 1.9k

born a demigod

son of Zeus and a mortal mother

he absolutely adores his mother

he’s not ashamed to say he’s a mama’s boy

on the other hand, he doesn’t really like to talk about his father

especially since he has these powers

the power of physical strength….

he’s not sure if they’re a good thing or a bad thing

like, sure he likes that he can help the elders carry stuff

you know, like their animals when they’ve broken a leg

or moving their houses to more convenient places

the whole village loves him bc they literally saw him grow up as a kid

he turned out so well for someone without a father

don’t be fooled—he can literally physically crush you like a grape, but he’s literally the sweetest boy

anyways

he’s been living normally

despite the whole ability to rip off a 100 year old tree

and lift up a wall 

or a house

or a 200 pound horse 

his life has been fairly normal up until the incident

one day, when Hoseok was about 16 years old

a couple of kids were stuck underneath a rock

okay, an understatement

it was a huge ass boulder

anyways

these kids were stuck underneath and Hoseok lifted it to let the kids out

since that day, the elders called him Wonho

meaning a brave lion, the protector of the village

since that day, he’s been doing around helping others a bit more 

he started putting himself out there to help people 

it was small but these tasks got gradually bigger

it started from saving kids

to fighting against monsters

to saving the entire universe (but that’s another story)

next thing he knew the entire village was calling him a hero

there were statues made of his figure 

his face was slapped on e v e r y t h i n g 

the gods made a star alignment for his stature

he became one of the most famous faces

some just like to call him a Greek god that fell from the heavens

he still blushes every time someone calls him that

the ladies swoon the hardest when he’s on his Pegasus high in the sky

and the light shines oh so perfectly to emphasize his perfect, chiseled face

geez this man is very attractive and he doesn’t even know it

moving on

it’s important to remember that he did not get to this position alone

he was able to train with/under Hyunwoo

Wonho wanted to understand how he can be a better hero

to protect the ones he loves

and those in the community 

he is such a good boy, I want to cry

anyways

he heard about how Hyunwoo trains heroes the best so he made his way over and

here he is

even after completing his training, he continues to work on himself

so if he can’t sleep or when people don’t need help

he would be in the gymnasium to work out

or he’d be doing practice training in an abandoned field that Hyunwoo had set up

as he got older, all he really does is help people and train to be better at what he’s doing

since he’s been helping out, the chaos has decreased significantly and he finds himself wandering elsewhere for adventure

this is how he meets you 

I mean, you wouldn’t say you were in danger

but also, you were in the woods and you didn’t know this one all that well

and you may or may not have ended up messing with this lake monster that you def shouldn’t have been messing with

so there you are

in the middle of a lake

being held hostage by some

ugly troll ass, centaur thing

(tbh, you couldn’t really tell what he was, a river guardian???)

I literally mean held btw

you were literally in this creep’s hand bc he’s the size of a giant

so Wonho was walking around the forest with Pegasus, trying to find a new place and see if anyone needed his help

and very faintly he hears something from the distance

“if you don’t put me down, I swear to cut off your balls and rip off your—”

oo he didn’t wanna hear that

but he still rushes towards it

that’s when he spots you in this monster’s hand, struggling to get out

he slowly approaches you two

Wonho: “uh, excuse me? sir? could you, um, let them go?”

you speak up first, without taking two glances at him

You: “keep moving junior, I can handle this—have a nice day”

you flash him a sarcastic smile, hoping he’ll move along with his day

but he doesn’t 

instead his shoulders kind of drop for a second, slightly disheartened, but only for a second

because he stands up straighter and pulls out his sword

Wonho: “you might be too close to his situation—I’m sorry to do this without your consent, but I have to do my job”

before anyone can say anything else, Wonho dives in and does what he does best

he fights off the bad guy

next thing you knew, you fell into the water and it’s all a blur

you fished yourself out, trying to dry off

Wonho managed to punch the living daylights out of the river guardian so he was just passed out and drowning in the river

but who cares about him

after Wonho ensures he’s not dead, but unconscious

(and Pegasus does his little cheer for him)

he moves over to you

Wonho: “..... hey”

You: “hi”

Wonho: “are you okay?”

You: “after getting all the water out of my ears, I’ve decided that I’ve been better”

Wonho: “sorry… about that—it was kind of stupid, I should have thought that out better”

You: “you think?”

you eye him up and down as you try to dry off your shoes

You: “they give you a name with those rippling pectorals?”

Wonho flushes, laughing rather awkwardly

Wonho: “they call me Wonho, but you can just call me Hoseok…”

you look at him again

he turns into a deeper shade of red under your eyes

You: “I prefer Wonder Boy”

he lets out another small laugh

Wonho: “what’s—what’s your name?”

you give him yours, as you wring out the bottom of your shirt into the water

he repeats it, with a small smile on his face

Wonho: “soooo, how’d you get mixed up with the—”

you finish for him

You: “the pinhead with hooves?”

he lets a little laugh out

it’s kind of cute

You: “well, you know how men are, they think no means yes and get lost means take me, I’m yours”

you let out an airy laugh as Wonho stands there confused

You: “don’t worry about it, Wonder Boy, you’ll figure it out eventually”

you stand up, ignoring the water that continues to drip down

You: “well, Seok, thanks for the help, but I gotta bounce”

Wonho: “ah…”

he can’t really hide his disappointment: “where—where are you going?”

You: “oh, you know, here and there”

you flash a smile at him: “I’ll see you around”

Wonho: “how?”

You: “life has its ways… bye bye Wonder Boy”

you walk off and disappear into the woods

Wonho finds himself still looking off, even as your figure disappears

Pegasus huffs at him, almost mockingly at how mesmerized he is at your presence

he turns to Pegasus and points a finger at him, as if he’s scolding him

Wonho: “not a word”

he continues to go on and eventually stumbles into a little town

…. your little town :)

obviously he didn’t realize

until he saw you again about a week later

you were hanging around a fruit stand that belonged to your friend’s 

you looked just as beautiful as he remembers 

and less angry 

Wonho: “hey” :)

You: “Wonder Boy, back to me so soon, miss me that much?”

Wonho: “yeah, I did”

oh

you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward

You: “so, you’re just hanging around town?”

Wonho: “it’s kind of like that”

You: “I heard some hero killed the monstrous lion, I should’ve realized it was you Wonder Boy”

Wonho: “ahhh…”

he flushes once again, rubbing the back of his neck

Wonho: “I—I’m no hero”

You: “sure you are, just remember, you are in a new town, take a break while you can”

You: “I will warn you though, it’s hard to find pretty sights in this dump”

Wonho: “I don’t think it’ll be that hard…. not without a guide at least…”

you look at him with a raised eyebrow

Wonho: “tHAt’S iF yoU wANT…. yoU don’T hAVE TO….”

you let out a laugh as he continues to flush into a darker red

he’s a cute boy, might as well shoot your shot

you wave to your friend as a silent goodbye and slowly start to walk off

without looking behind you, you shout out

You: “you coming, Wonder Boy?”

Wonho snaps out of his daydream that’s right in front of him

Wonho: “yes ma’am”

and thus the start of a beautiful relationship

Disney Prince!Wonho is as wonderful as it sounds

he already adores the life out of you

and he basically worships the ground you walk on

(as if you were the one with Greek god genes)

you, on the other hand, think he’s like a little puppy

a puppy that can kill you with his strength 

but a puppy

he loves praise

he needs attention

he loves affection

he’s basically a soft, gigantic puppy

this view kind of changed when you saw him in action

I mean you did see him in action that one time

but his life wasn’t really in danger

and lowkey he looks hot fighting

but like….

when he killed the Stymphalian Birds…

when he captured the cattle of Geryon….

I guess you kind of drew the line when you saw Cerberus on your front lawn

(he’s absolutely more adorable than people said, but it is still a three headed giant dog)

you were just concerned for him and the danger he was putting himself in

and Wonho kind of ate that shit up

but he did console you

he became a lot more careful to consider your feelings

that did mean more official training with Hyunwoo

but anything to make you happy

anyways

most of the time,  he stays to help the village

the elderly and kiddos there have grown to love him

I mean what’s not to love but

anyways

sometimes he does have to travel a bit farther for the king or something

but he always brings back some type of souvenir for you

he loves to spoil you

when he went to the Amazon, you got the most gorgeous flowers

another time, he brought some golden apples for you

he says it’s to make up the time away from you

and your heart absolutely melted

his presence makes up for it

he’s great okay

anyways

so you know how Pegasus is like his sidekick?

you two bonded 

he’s not sure how but 

Wonho loves that you and Pegasus get along

but y’all bonded a bit too much 

like you two won’t say anything but it’ll be on your faces when you’re judging him

moving on

you haven’t stopped calling him Wonder Boy

some days he prefers it

others, he prefers it when you call him Seok

so, affection 

this man needs it

whenever he’s in the same space as you

he’s like touch

it’s not like you’re gonna reject it

even if you roll your eyes, you always run into his arms

when he gets back from his trips

he doesn’t let you go for days

**cue you two waddling around because he’s backhugging you**

humor—while most of yours is dry

he still laughs and goes with it

he tells jokes unknowingly

like some of the stuff he says is ridiculous

and you just burst out laughing

you two are just very attuned with one another

very harmonious

very cute

Wonho: “when I’m with you, I don’t feel so alone”

You: “good thing you’re stuck with me then”

Wonho: “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

[villa-kulla]

I was hoping you might find time for the commentary! I expect this may be a common request, but would you do the scene at the end of Chisolm's 7, from '6 months later' to 'gradually remembered how to be himself'?

I had a feeling you’d choose that one haha and I’m so glad you did! It was exTREMEly satisfying to write. Thanks for the ask!

(***copy-paste disclaimer that this is NOT under a readmore because my blog’s black background makes reading long things a chore, so SCROLL FAST IF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED!***)

                                                        *

Before this section even starts, for the 6 months later heading I intentionally left such ridiculously huge paragraph gaps before and after, just because I knew people would be scrolling and I wanted to convey distance for the time jump. If this had been a book I’d have wanted an almost blank page that says ‘6 months later’, so I guess wide gaps in between scrolling is the online version of that haha)

Goodnight stretched back on the lounge chair contentedly, baking underneath the hot sun. Billy would give him hell for having taken off his thin linen shirt in the middle of the day, but Billy was out swimming as it happened, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Goody and I are one where the sun is concerned, in that we KNOW we burn easily but the allure of sunbathing properly is too much to resist haha, much to the despair of the ones who are trying to save us from ourselves/UV rays. This is absoLUTEly a source of much bickering for them haha

He reached for his drink, moving the colourful umbrella to the side as he took a pull from the straw. He licked his lips, the sweet juice mingling with the salty taste from when he’d gone swimming earlier.

They did that every day. Swimming, that is. Swimming, sailing, and making their way around the islands, no plans for the day other than if they should up the sails and find a new port to explore, or stay anchored, bobbing in crystal blue and green waters next to white beaches, alternating between swimming or laying back on the deck while they enjoyed each other’s company. Whether that was by playing cards, reading, tanning, keeping the large yacht in ship-shape, or having frankly ridiculous amounts of sex, the bliss of living with Billy Rocks still hadn’t worn off. And at this rate, Goodnight didn’t think it ever would.

living the high liiiiife. Back in chapter 1, Sam asks Goody what his plans with the bank money are, and Goody says ‘I see a yacht in my future’, and then BOOM, just like that I had the ending for this fic completely in place haha. Like the second I typed him saying that it was like “oh okay, so this fic ends with Goody and Billy on a yacht together, k cool”, and the whole way through I couldn’t wait to actually write it. And as we talked about before, this Dorothy L. Sayers quote was in my head the entire time writing it: “Lord Peter’s large income… cost me nothing and at the time I was particularly hard up and it gave me pleasure to spend his fortune for him. When I was dissatisfied with my single unfurnished room I took a luxurious flat for him in Piccadilly. When my cheap rug got a hole in it, I ordered him an Aubusson carpet.” Spending fictional money is extremely satisfying haha, so yeah, I was very much looking forward to spoiling these two

Goodnight nudged down his sunglasses, keeping an eye on Billy out in the water, smiling when he saw his dark head bobbing out in the water like a seal’s. They were anchored by a coral reef and Billy was out snorkeling again. Never content to just float on the water though, Goodnight often saw his head dip under to go chase a fish or pick up a shell on the sandy bottom.

I had to include the seal comparison, because as always, Billy is such a water creature to me. I blame River Grit lol, but the seal bit is my little shoutout to my own damn obsession with him as a water spirit. Also protective!Goody nudging down his glasses

Goodnight smiled and took another sip of his drink, making a mental note to ask Billy if he wanted to have dinner on shore or fix something on the boat. They were anchored off one of the many islands in the area, and this one had an appealing night market they’d explored the night before before, walking through the bright lights with cold beers in their hands, listening to the sounds of drums from the street bands, the smell of fish, pineapples, and coconuts thick on the air.

I like the domesticity in the phrasing of ‘fix something’, and how it suggests the kind of dinner routines they might have built up at this point in their little floating home. Can’t you just picture them in the kitchen, hips bumping while they both make supper, and holding things out for each other to taste? My heart

They’d seen what felt like half of the Pacific islands this way: sailing to different areas and exploring the local cities, enjoying the colour of each one. But as fun as their travels had been, Goodnight also enjoyed the time he spent with Billy just staying in on the boat: days spent lounging on the deck while they soaked up the sun, the ocean rippling clear around them; warm evenings of throwing something together in the yacht’s kitchen and eating dinner out on the deck with their feet dangling in the water as they watched the sun set; rainy evenings curled up in the lounge watching old movies on their flat screen while the rain drummed on the roof overhead and made the ocean outside as rippled and dented as a golfball. And then there were the nights spent with the windows thrown open, the hot breeze coming in while they moved together on the sheets, feeling and tasting every inch of each other, the movement of their bodies as steady and uplifting as the roll of waves.

I’ve often felt like this big chunky paragraph could have been more elegantly done, but I wasn’t sure how. But either way it was very satisfying to imagine and write these little scenarios for them. Personally I like the image of them eating on the side of the boat with their feet dangling in the water while the sun goes down best, but I also like the image of a rainy ocean being like a ‘golfball’. I was very keen to get the golfball comparison in there, but again, I feel like I could have done it more elegantly but just didn’t know how lol but ah well

Goodnight and Billy had each chipped in from their shares of the casino job so that they could buy the yacht. It was the closest thing either had had to a steady home in a long time, it had been worth every penny.

so they each made off with about 25 million if I remember correctly? I looked at a lot of yachts for sale while writing this (which was both fun and envy-inducing haha), and honestly a reeeeeally swanky mid-sized yacht could EASILY go for at least 50 million. But also I didn’t want them to spend their WHOLE cut of the take on a yacht, because they need to have millions left over to play around with! So idk, let’s say their yacht is certainly high end but not ostentatiously so, and they afforded it just fine with plenty left over for caviar. And btw, in all my yacht research, this one was probably closest to what I imagined for the exterior, although not exactly: https://www.burgessyachts.com/en/sale-purchase-category/yachts-for-sale/sailing-yachts/khaleesi-00006286.html (I couldn’t find an exACT match for what I had in my head but that one’s close-ish)

And speaking of a million dollar view…

coming up is my version of ‘Ursula Andress ascending from the sea in a white bikini in Dr. No’, only it’s Billy haha

Billy was climbing up the ladder, and god, this was just the best part of Goody’s day. He pulled himself up onto the deck, dripping wet, muscles glistening beneath the hot sun, black swimsuit clinging to his hips. He reached up to take off his snorkelling mask, the plastic strap tangling briefly in his hair which he then squeezed out. It was past his shoulders these days, either by preference or simply not being bothered enough to cut it.

would that not be a sight and a half……writing this paragraph was shameless voyeurism I tell you haha. Oh and also the ‘this was just the best part of Goody’s day’ was a reference to Matt Damon’s line in the movie when we see Julia Roberts coming down the stairs looking lovely and he says ‘This is just the best part of my day.’ Like it says in the fic notes, the plot itself is only LOOSELY based on Ocean’s 11 (in that it’s a team and they rob a casino haha), but there are a number of homages, lines, and references to the movie sprinkled throughout, because I love it so much

Billy bent down to take off his flippers, and Goodnight took the opportunity to quickly throw on his white shirt again, not bothering to button it. Billy would say he was burning up, although truthfully Goodnight had never been more brown in his life. He ran his fingers through his salty hair, mussing it up, knowing Billy found it fetching when his hair, sun-streaked with blonde these days, fell across his eyes.

while I do love canon-Goody’s gross, slicked-down hair as an endearing character trait, this was my chance to actually give him some nice, free hair, and I took it haha.

Billy straightened up and walked towards Goodnight on the lounge chair, clearly finding Goodnight as appealing a picture right now as Goodnight found him.

it’s fair to assume they don’t get a lot done, what with how much they just check each other out all the time

“Nice swim, cher?” Goodnight asked with a smile.

“Saw a lionfish,” Billy said with satisfaction as he picked up Goodnight’s drink and took a sip of it.

went back and forth for aaaages between ‘Billy said with satisfaction’ and ‘Billy said happily’. I really liked the ‘happily’ but felt it was coming off as too childish, especially for Billy’s first lines in this scene. I wasn’t trying to infantilize him with pure unfiltered pleasure at a lion fish, but that’s just how the ‘happily’ seemed to be coming off

“Bravo, darling. What’s that, only two thousand species left to go?” Goodnight asked, referring to the list Billy had taped to the fridge of all the different fish he wanted to see in the wild.

he WOULD have that though. oh I do love you, fishboy

“Something like that,” Billy agreed, handing Goodnight back his glass where he’d been batting at it. “Saw a leopard shark too.”

that ‘batting at it’ was completely meant to suggest lazy cat behaviour in Goody. ‘cause. I don’t know, man. They just make nice cats haha

Goodnight narrowed his eyes. “How big are those ones again?”

Billy warns Goody against messing with the sun, and Goody warns Billy against messing with sharks, it evens out in the end;) Protective bbs

Billy smiled. “They’re harmless, Goody.”

“Well maybe so, but you just remember what I said about chasing off after anything with bigger teeth than you,” Goodnight said warningly.

“You’ll be cross,” Billy said, smile still tugging at his lips.

“I’ll be cross,” Goodnight agreed.

“And you’ll scold me,” Billy murmured, bending down, his lips tickling Goodnight’s.

okay but writing Goody scolding people is just SO FUN FOR SOME REASON? I can see him getting all puffed up and ranting at people, and those who know him well know it’s best to just let him talk himself out. The scene earlier in this chapter of him floridly telling off Sam was extremely delightful to write lol. Goodnight definitely has a well developed sense of righteous indignation. Although any shark-related warnings Billy may have received would certainly have been given with love, they’d be given with fervour too, ‘cause I mean Goody didn’t go to all this trouble just to have Billy eaten by a SHARK

“Darn right,” Goodnight said with finality, leaning in to catch Billy’s lips, salty and cool against his own, and delicious every time.

He felt Billy’s lip turn up against his own, and suddenly Billy was pulling back and wiping a thick glob of cream against Goodnight’s nose.

“You were burning,” Billy said.

don’t know if anyone would have remembered the scene from chapter 6 at this point, but Billy was also warning Goody that he was getting a sunburn, and this is my little echo to that. Trapped or free, Billy is head of the ‘make Goody wear sunblock’ squad

Goodnight made a sound of protest but laughed and rubbed the sunscreen in. Billy kissed the tip of his nose when he was finished, and then hopped back onto the deck to go towel off.

I feel like Goody makes a lot of ‘sounds of protest’ in my fics lol, but sometimes it’s hard not to overuse the same mannerisms for characters. But on an unrelated note, BILLY. KISSING. GOODY’S. NOSE. I still can’t decide if that’s a very unBilly-like thing to do, or a VERY Billy-like thing to do, but either way, the image pleased me so in it stayed

Goodnight felt his heart swell to watch Billy move about the deck, limbs loose, posture relaxed, a world removed from the Billy Rocks he’d met in Vegas. That Billy had watched everything with wary eyes, posture tense, too skinny and his skin pale from so much time inside, suspicious of everyone and everything around him.

Goodnight had still found him the most beautiful man alive back then. But the Billy that had emerged these past six months was nothing short of a wonder. He was tanned and golden, muscles strong and healthy from hours spent swimming and doing work on the boat every day. His quietness from before had made him seem pent-up, almost like it was a defense. But any stretches of silence these days seemed borne of confidence instead, telling Goodnight what he thought of something with an eloquent lift of his eyebrows or a mere quirk to his lips. He was relaxed, cocky, so dry-as-dust funny he made Goodnight’s sides hurt, and so vibrantly self-possessed Goodnight felt he was seeing the real Billy Rocks come out more and more every day, leaving behind the buttoned-up Billy he’d met in Vegas as Billy gradually remembered how to be himself.

Hardest DVD commentary paragraph for last, but Billy was often a challenge to write in this one. I kept trying to write him as the Billy Rocks I’m used to - the one described in this paragraph - but he kept coming out as so wary, wound tight, and extremely vulnerable. But then again, why wouldn’t he be?? If you think about it, his situation is HORRIBLE. I think it’s realistic that he would feel extremely vulnerable and defensive, so that’s the Billy I ended up writing for much of the fic. And I told myself that the Billy we see on the yacht is when we finally see the REAL Billy Rocks….long hair and all:) Although if I can briefly mention the next paragraph, (‘Sometimes Billy would withdraw, and Goodnight knew he was retreating to years of repression and tension and wondering what he could have done differently to have changed his situation, or wondering if there was nothing he could have done at all. Sometimes it was hard to know which was worse.’) I felt it was really important to include that to show he’s not going to get over it just like that, or just because he has a nice house now. Billy would realistically have some ptsd for a long time after spending 10 years trapped and under extreme mental pressure. So it’ll definitely take Billy a while to cope with, but he has a much better footing to do it now, and I imagine given time, he’ll be even more like the Billy Rocks we’re all used to. And I like the last words of “Billy gradually remembered how to be himself”, because I’ve found in my own experience when it comes to getting over a traumatic period, those little flashes where you feel completely normal and like yourself again do feel like ‘remembering’ in a strange way. Like your whole body is remembering or something. So while it will still be a struggle sometimes, the more he remembers, the more like himself he’ll stay.

(P.S. Still not entirely sure if I’d do a sequel or if it’s just an idea to amuse myself with sometimes haha, but I’m sure the Billy Rocks in any ‘Chisolm’s 8′ would be more what we’re used to haha.  And my image of the team meeting up again for the first time would contain a lot of whistles and ‘damn Billy’ and Billy’s just like ‘what??!’ and all alarmed by the attention, much like how he met them for the first time, and Sam’s just amused like “Nothing. You look good, Billy,” and Goody trails in after with him a dreamy smile all like “Doesn’t he though?”. Smitten, styling, criminals ‘till the last haha. And yes, Billy absolutely keeps the hair haha)

                                                         *

Thanks for the ask!:)

[shikungigi]

(Do people still say manenos?)

I was thinking of what to write today then I remembered I should have written about being on a train for the first time in my life. Okay, fine, I have been on the miniature train. The tiny train that remained the biggest reason I looked forward to Show every year as a kid. And if you understand what I meant by Show, you will likely relate, so I will not explain. After I grew up and read about the Kenya-Uganda railway and how it paved way for most of Kenyan “civilization” as we know it today, I wanted to get on the Lunatic Express. That never happened (clearly) and my chance to experience that part of history passed on just like that. So much for procrastination.

I have been procrastinating the SGR ride too, since last year. I never had an actual reason to get onboard and hit Mombasa. First of all, my idea of fun is very far away from coastal temperatures. When most people I know enjoy the beach and swimming. I don’t. It has been a running joke for years now, at work. How, when everyone was swimming I was seated in my coat. (LOL, of course the storyteller exaggerates that part. The very reason I hate coastal weather is the heat and sticky humidity, so why would I be in a coat?) Anywho, the chance to get on the SGR train presented itself last week and without thinking twice, I jumped on it, motivated by the novelty of it all, not procrastinating again and the fact that it was just going to be a weekend thing. In and out before I could catch a headache from the heat.

So this is what happens when you get to the station or terminus, which they call the Nairobi Terminus even though it is miles away from the capital: You literally feel like you are at the airport. So maybe they should just call it a rail port. I believe a ton went into building these big terminals and it is immediately evident from a distance. Oh and btw, we call it the SGR I think because we Kenyans love short and snappy names for everything, but I was trying to explain this to an American and she was like, oh you mean the Madaraka Express? And I was like, eeeerrrr, oh yeah… no one calls it that here though. I could hardly even remember that is what it was dubbed last year. Different strokes.

The Nairobi Terminus is designed in the shape of two trains moving towards each other, apparently with a load between them both. Lol. Makes no sense but very beautiful either way. The first stop before getting into the terminus is a tent, where you place all your belongings on a platform and step away, and then the police walk their dogs by them to sniff out any illegal stuff. After the sniffing, you pass through the machine check. I mean, I have never even seen sniffer dogs at JKIA!

Front – Taken last year

In the bowels

Back

After this point, you can take pictures at the beautiful front then walk into the terminus for ticket checking, making sure you have both your ticket and national ID. There is additional drama that is attached to ticket booking btw. I was going in a group, so I did not experience the actual drama since this work was done for most of us by the leaders, but I heard the horror stories. Apparently tickets get booked like hot cake online. If you make a mistake and tarry, you miss a spot within a few hours. A member of the group even got a ticket indicating the wrong date of travel and had to get this changed last minute. At this first ticket check, they are not super keen on the dates and all. Once you are through another machine check and into the building, you go up a flight of stairs (or escalator) to the expansive waiting area. Again, like an airport, people get here hours earlier, because this train does not wait for Kenyan timers.

The waiting bay just in front of the boarding gates

So after chilling for forever, just chatting, the gates to board the train were opened at 2pm. This train had just arrived from Mombasa at around 1. The first folks to board are the first class peeps who pay a whole 2,300 Kenya Shillings extra for that extra space and comfort. Us KSh 700 folks board shortly after. This is the point your ticket is scanned for you to gain entry into the final stage. And this is also the point you are finally singled out if your ticket has a problem. Once you are through, you walk across the length of the terminus to the flight of steps that lead you down to your coach. The SGR staff are everywhere, directing passengers to the correct coaches.

Mind the gap and enter the train. The first thing that hits you is the air-conditioning. Even locating the seat numbers is very much plane-like. The difference is you are walking through a much wider space and the seats are much more and arranged differently. One side sits four people facing each other and the other has six people, with just a tiny “table” jutting out from the side. There are luggage racks overhead and strip curtains for the windows. You are obviously supposed to sit on the seat allocated on your ticket, but if you can make arrangements with someone else to switch, well and good.

At exactly 2.30PM, the train started moving, gradually picking up speed. This train’s speed indicator was not working correctly on the screen, from what I gathered, but if the the one from the trip back was anything to go by, we were going at about 110km/hr. The trip is mostly noiseless. You don’t even realize you are moving that fast until you look at the ground just below the train. It is quite smooth the ride. So smooth, some clown in our group convinced one girl that the train had no wheels and it was just sliding on the rails. And she actually believed it. LOL. Pretty soon, you are past Athi River station, gliding through vast savannah and sometimes crisscrossing the old railway. At other points, you are parallel Mombasa road. If you pay attention to the road for long enough, you will spot a random SUV trying to beat the train. But that effort is always thwarted by any of the many trucks trudging through the road.

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This railway passes through 7 stations and 23 substations (I read, didn’t count myself. Relax.). I only managed to spot five I think. The 7: Athi River. Emali. Kibwezi. Mtito Andei. Voi. Miaseny. Mariakani. If you are really bored and peer into the wild around Tsavo, you will see some elephants. At around Voi, I think, we whizzed past the other train headed to Nairobi. At first, I thought it was moving, but that would make no sense, as my seat mate explained. It has to stop and let the other pass before it proceeds to its final destination. At every station we passed, there was staff standing by, I don’t know for what purpose. 😀 We also went over many elaborate bridges but I was stupid enough not to realize this until I read about it.

In the train, the train staff will push through trolleys with food, but this food is nowhere near free. BRING YOUR OWN FOOD, BRETHREN. Either already in your tummy or for consumption along the way. The toilets are great, but they block sometimes. They are designed pretty much like plane ones. And just like on the airborne ones, you will always find a rando who will not close the door shut to turn the light red and you will catch them off-guard seated on the toilet. And then they will act offended when they are the ones who did not utilize the lock as clearly instructed. SMH. The coach also has power sockets at one end, but that’s not super helpful if you are sitting near them. So you either go stand there and charge your phone or forget about your phone altogether until you have reached your destination. (I need a new phone!!! Where art thou, Sony XZ2?!) You will also be advised to not move from coach to coach, but please, you will move, especially if you know people in other coaches. If you do not move, you will not be super comfortable, unless you are in the 3000 shillings crowd.

We got to Mombasa at 7.15PM, so that’s like not 4 hours flat, more like 5. Like I said, you get used to the speed that you cannot automatically detect if the train has just slowed down, or has actually stopped, unless you look at the ground by it. This terminus has a huge tower jutting into the air above. It is designed to represent ripples and waves. Does not makes sense to me either but who cares, it’s awesome. However, it only hits you how much more tinier than the Nairobi one it is on the trip back home, because you will not find a place to sit even when you are pretty early. And there will be queues in the only washrooms in this terminus. he You have plenty of time to study the place and just think about what you could do with all the idle land lying around the terminus. Buroti maguta maguta.

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The trip from Mombasa started at 3.15pm and ended at 8.20pm. Again 5 hours. Let me stop there for now.

(I started writing this two weeks ago, when the ticket price was not hiked to Ksh 1000.)

SGR Manenos (Do people still say manenos?) I was thinking of what to write today then I remembered I should have written about being on a train for the first time in my life.

[libramoon2]

dark musings

Twilight at the Dark of the Moon Moving inward. Spiraling into deepest silence. Feel me here, oh my most darling. Here is the free-est flow, river of bliss. Bounty of years of grey resistance, incrementally awakened to swirling shades -- mystic purples, mad magentas, sky-eyed blues. There is ancient music, crescendos to peals. Layered millennial ears, creatures of seas to trees murmur through. Ripples of soundwaves, broker wisdom not yet condensed into words. Romances spun of clay and sand, woven into fashion’s fabrics. Hearty voices join, create regaled mythology. Star-shaped world story reverberates with chill and heat. Nascent strive for enriched clarity that must open ever more widely, a luminous spiral up, out, in, around. Come, brave as you imagine. In that brief eternal interval all of energy coalesces. Dark Magick In the still of the dark of the moon, after the revelry has passed, deep, deep into the frozen fields of dreamless sleep, we, walking, silently, along the riverbed, breathe in ancient ash of woodsmoke, breathe out long-growing tears to weave ghostly tentacles along our path, take each other's hand up to our heart to pray, to kiss, to whisper, thus casting an eternal spell. Brave New Age I have traveled beyond the waters, acrid, poisoned water, bound and bleeding daughters, wail of senseless slaughter, blinded by the rain. I have walked sands of endless hatred, crumbled stone as hate did, explaining "It was fated." relinquishing the blame. Dark of the night, quiet, unable to lie, I search for the truth of my age in unfathomed sky. Not Heaven, not Home to a rescuing I -- the Mystic's mystery. Hugely greater than a Creator of history. Stars, Galaxies without end Liminal Spaces Twilight, the wee hours, the dark of the moon, liminal spaces, places where magic dwells, crossroads, crises, cusps. There is static on the radio. A song my voice was singing, rhythm of sound takes flight to surround me, a comforter of down to ease my soul. I've been trying to define a taste, a sense of bittersweet and salt. I've been trying to find a trace a footprint in the desert, a sight, a scent, a memory. I've been trying to discern a trace of me, a piece to fit the puzzle, my contribution to the grand design. Seeking in shadows, the space between myth and matter, those places words cannot define. On those insubstantial plains of myst and awe, the stuff of dreams, threshold of wonder, creation is spawned. dark of the Moon, dark of the Sun liminality, intense opening of magical portals -- where do you see your being on the other side? Perhaps what I am finding so profound is indeed simple elementary knowledge to others here. That take on the human narrative is: our entire "reality" is an abstract construct based on what we perceive as the general social narrative into which we are born. Much as some religions refer to a "maya" an illusory story we blend our self-narrative from, or as visionaries, madfolk, psychonauts perceive a vaster reality beyond the veil, we all have the capacity to see through the story and recreate it in an image more suited to our individual pursuits and pleasure. In fact, religion (yoke) is a social construct to better control the flock by self-appointed shepherds who may have a greater picture than apprehended by the masses, or at least a greater instinct for the prerequisites of power over. Ultimately, the more profound power is not power over, but power within, the power to move beyond the socially accepted narrative and write one's own. This is the essence of Magic. We who are part of an ancient tradition of art are always taking up the helm, seeing what was and making our own comments based on our own experiences. However, as to the whining and wallowing, people throughout time have had serious issues to deal with, some similar to what we are going through now, some perhaps less relevant at this time. We had "the bomb" Vietnam, the draft, Agent Orange, CIA, Hoover's FBI, all manner of incredible social changes to acclimate to. You know, I've been marvelling during this just recent "Black History Month" that when I was a teen I was marching for civil rights so that my black friends could live in the kinds of neighborhoods that my white friends took for granted, could get real jobs, could not be lynched with impunity. My gay friends were jailed or worse, incarcerated in mental institutions and given shock treatments, even lobotomies, because they had a mental illness, not a different orientation. My woman friends (I included) were also kept off the job market, or given low-paid service work which included a heavy amount of sexual harassment that had to be endured. We were not allowed often to rent spaces because we didn't have a man, or have our own bank accounts, or heaven forbid we had children due to divorce or out-of-wedlock, we were pariahs and so were our kids. I could go on forever, but hopefully you get the point. We all have our crosses to bear, each individual and each generation. As artists it is our job to take it all in and use these adversities to make our art more relevant, more real, more true to who we are. And, btw, check out some of the earlier psychedelic movement art -- it's certainly not all sweetness and light! The so-called flower-power hippies were more a media artifact than the real thrust of what people were doing and believed. Sodomy, defined by celibate priests who I guess thought we were too good for sex, includes all sexual acts outside of the sacrament of marriage, other than the missionary position, and for any purpose other than procreation. Sodomy is condemned as serious sin in Christian theology of the middle ages and on to well into the 20th century, even into the 21st. Apparently God gave us these intense urges just to test us. I have been experiencing complicated thoughts about the meaning of art, its purpose culturally and personally. For the most part, I've not liked poetry, though often I have found poems that did deeply move me or give me a radically new perspective in a way that other writing forms rarely can equal. I had very recently been going through an internal conflict about writing style. People have criticized my writing for being too difficult to understand when I thought I was being crystal clear. I started working toward using simpler language, but that doesn't seem to be the cure. Now, I am leaning more toward the idea that my job is to express in my own way my own realizations, since that is what I can do that is original and meaningful, to me at least. You can never please or even necessarily communicate with all of the people all of the time. If I am true to my own vision, at least that will be out there for those who do wish to see it. It is important, though, I think, to be clear in the manifestation of that vision rather than obscurant, to give full attention and intention to every word. It cracks me up that the Republicans are touted as pro-free-market conservatives. Real conservatives are conservationists. They understand that there is no free ride from planet Earth, or anyone else. They believe in the creative entrepreneur who has a stake in finding useful and profitable solutions so the buying public will beat a path to that door. Real Republicans, however, seem to be about preserving the territory of sacred special interests. As was suggested on a conservative think tank panel broadcast on C-Span about other issues, probably the best way to come up with real world solutions is to offer a high cash prize to whoever comes up with the best ideas, or at least to offer low-interest financing to get such projects going. I drink them in, your words of lithe and light and falling into meaning. Hot, parched soul that I bring to party through the changing moods and captured essence enrapturing liquid emotion. Capturing brief moments dripping down my throat like song. Blowing through life, into a magical canyon Stygian rain ignites wandering visions Madness unbound by resplendent derision rocks into devastation of lullabies expressed through Lilithian eyes way past the limits of light and reason In a gentle corner, made of more glorious dreams love's candle burns warming celestial clay New worlds orgasmic in grace explore passion.