#shared space is what humanity has ALWAYS been built on bar none

[shouyuus]

was thinking about it this morning as i was making tea and i think there's a fundamental gap in the advice we give to writers/creators to "first and foremost create for ourselves", bc yes. in the beginning, i am almost always writing for myself. i write all the time, and im sure that artists doodle and paint all the time too. there are things i've written that will never see the light of day and are truly just for me.

and then there are things that i choose to share, because i want to share them. because i'm proud of a story, and want to put it into the world. the act of sharing it is, above all, an invitation.

its me inviting you into a corner of my mind/heart/soul, opening the window and throwing open the curtains and waving, holding up a sign that says "hi! do you like this too? let's talk about it!"

what im asking for is a connection, a conversation. a shared space. digital or otherwise. and the so-called "harm" of "ghost consumption" is not that artists will stop creating art or that writers will stop writing -- no, that's not quite how creativity works (thankfully, and sometimes unfortunately). we will always create.

we just might not be inspired to share it anymore.

[brandyllyn]

In our own image... (08)

Chapter 08

(Poe Dameron x OFC)

Other chapters...  My Masterlist

Word count: 2100. Read it on AO3.

Rating: Teen & Up (PG)

"You would waste our one endless ration on sugar?" Poe’s voice was incredulous.

"You would waste it on caf?" Finn shot back.

"Caf keeps the Resistance running my pal, none of us would be doing half so much if we ever run out." Poe snaps.

The argument had started innocently enough. Poe was sitting on one of the workbenches, legs swinging over the side as he puzzled over a bit of metal Chewbacca had brought. The group had been bantering back and forth amongst themselves for the last hour while Kina was working on the droid that Wexley had brought in that morning. They needed a new sensor array, a tedious job that was requiring all of her concentration. Something that was hard to come by in the ongoing clamor. At her feet, K-0 was beeping happily to themself. As long as BB-8 wasn’t acting as a translator the little droid seemed to be happy.

Honestly, if she had known that her workshop was going to become a social hangout every night she’d have built it bigger. As it was, having six bipeds in it - one of them a Wookie - was making the space feel incredibly claustrophobic. Kina eyed the wall in front of her, trying to remember what was on the other side. Could it be pushed back a few feet? It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough help to make it happen.

"I just don’t understand your addiction to that stuff," Finn grumbled. "It’s nasty."

From the corner of her eye Kina saw Poe roll his eyes. "I can’t believe you… Chewie, if you could make one thing an endless ration here on base what would it be?"

The Wookie was out of sight behind her, but the low rumbling response vibrated through Kina’s body. "Wasaka berries."

Threepio translated the words almost instantly, giving the illusion that the words were the Wookie’s. Ever since they had realized that Finn couldn’t understand Binary, and that neither he nor Kina could understand Shyriiwook, the droid had been invited to hang out in Kina’s workshop whenever the group got together. The Wookie mostly avoided her, seeming awed by her presence in the room. It wasn’t unusual, but it did make nights like these a little awkward.

"Wasaka berries?" Poe turned too Chewie. "Aren’t those poisonous to anyone who isn’t a Wookie?"

"More for me," Chewie replied and Kina snorted, setting the panel she was working on to the side.

"You’re all being silly," Rey’s voice came from the side, from her hammock. The woman was almost never out of it when she was nearby. "What we need are high calorie, high nutrition bars."

Poe sighed, setting the metal down and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Why are you always so practical? Kina, tell me, what would you pick. One food we could have an infinite amount of."

Kina thought for a second before whistling her answer. "Tibanna gas."

"That’s not a food," Finn pointed out.

"Beldoni eat it - so I think technically it is a food," Kina retorted, listening to Threepio translate. "And that way we’d have endless coolant for the blasters and ships."

Poe grinned at her, "Now that is a great loophole." He drummed his fingers against the table as he said it, one foot kicking the air.

Kina reached out, catching one of his hands. "What’s got you in such a tizzy this evening?"

"A tizzy?" Poe scoffed. "I’m not in a tizzy."

"It’s sabacc night," Finn said and Kina turned to look at him. "He’s always in a bad mood on sabacc night."

"You don’t like sabacc?" Kina asked.

"They don’t let him play," Finn said before Poe could.

Poe glared at him before responding to Kina. "My pilots have a weekly sabacc night. But I’m their commanding officer so…"

"So they don’t let you play?" Kina’s eyebrows drew together. "That doesn’t seem right."

"That is not the reason Acclaimed One. They don’t let him play because Dameron is a sore loser." This information came from Chewie, via Threepio.

Kina jumped in before anyone could latch on to the honorific. "Oh? Is that so? Mister Best Pilot in the Resistance is a sore loser? Color me surprised."

Poe rolled his eyes. "I am not. I’m just not used to it."

"He’s not a terribly gracious winner either," Rey pointed out.

"Hey," Poe set his hands on his hips. "Is this 'make fun of Poe' night?"

But Kina saw an opportunity and was ready to grab it. "You know," she said, keeping her whistles even, "if this space was a little larger we could set up a sabacc table and play here." She pretended to study the space for the first time. "If we pushed a couple of these walls back a few feet… yeah I think we could fit a table in the middle…"

Thirty minutes later it was done. Rey and Kina had moved one of the smaller tables to the center, scratching out an Interference Field on it. Finn was breaking up pieces of different colored foam insulation to use as wagering chips. Poe had managed to rustle up not just a sabacc deck and timer, but also a bottle of Corellian whiskey. He waggled his eyebrows as he held it up. "What’s the harm?"

Soon enough, the five of them were sitting around the table. Kina smiled when she saw Poe slip into the seat next to hers, his foot reaching over and tangling with hers for a moment as he leaned his elbows on the table and held up one of the pieces of insulation. "Okay, so these red pieces will represent small favors. Things like 'go get that thing for me across the base'. The blue ones will represent big favors. Something like-"

"Wash all of the lokka worm spit out of my clothes," Finn butted in.

Poe winked at him. "Yeah, like that. Everyone be sure to write your name on your chits."

At her feet, Kina felt K-0 wedge themself between Poe’s foot and her own, beeping angrily for a moment before settling themself in the space they had made. She gave Poe a rueful look and he gave her an equally sad one in return.

"What are the grey ones," Rey asked, holding one up. Poe looked stumped.

"Loyalty," Kina offered, raising an eyebrow at Poe’s narrowed look. "That person has to side with you on something. Against whatever."

Poe nodded slowly and then grinned. "Loyalty, I like that. Okay, does anyone not know how to play sabacc?" He asked, picking up the shift timer and turning it on.

No one spoke up, but Kina noticed dubious looks on both Rey and Finn. Possibly Chewie too, but it was hard to read the Wookie’s expression.

"You gonna share that whiskey?" Finn asked, and the game was on.

Within a dozen rounds Kina had managed to only lose a couple of small favors. She wasn’t one to bet big, wasn’t as prone to risks as Poe was. The real standout of the evening, however, was Chewie, who had a tendency to drop giant bets and then win on them. He also always folded whenever it came down to just him and Kina - a fact Kina was hoping no one else had noticed.

"Are you counting cards," Poe asked dubiously when Chewie raked in yet another main pot.

"How dare you," Chewie replied, "I am a person of honor."

"Mmhmm," Poe hummed, tapping the table for everyone’s antes.

On Kina’s left, Rey was leaning her chin on one hand, staring at Kina as she tossed in a small favor token. Kina glanced her way then smiled to herself. The human woman was not used to drinking. She had only finished one glass and was already looking loopy and on the verge of sleep.

"Rey it’s your bet," Poe prompted, face serious as he tapped the table.

"Oh, sorry," Rey mumbled, glancing at her card and then tossing them back at Poe. "I’m out."

"Rey," Kina clicked, trying to keep her voice quiet even though Threepio was translating it at the same volume he did everything else. "There’s nothing to call. You can just stand."

"Oh," Rey blinked. "Then I’ll stay."

"I raise," Finns said immediately.

Rey leaned closer to Kina, speaking in what she probably thought was a whisper, "Do you mind if I ask… how far do your spots go?"

Poe gasped, looking up from his cards with a scandalized frown, "Rey, you can’t just ask someone…"

"I asked if she minded!" Rey shot back.

Kina just grinned at Rey and then gave Poe a wink, whistling. "They’re called rosettes. And they go all the way down."

Poe froze. He swallowed hard, his throat working as he struggled to continue looking at her face. She could feel the tension in him as he fought not to follow the line of her rosettes down with his eyes. "Poe?"

"Mm?" Oh, he was blushing. From the tips of his ears down his neck.

"It’s your bet, Chewie called," she gently prodded him.

"What?" Poe blinked at her then turned to his cards. "Oh, yeah. I call."

Kina laughed, only the huff of air giving away her mirth. Without looking at Poe she gently moved K-0 out of the way and hooked her foot around his ankle, sliding up his calf as she said, "I fold."

"They’re very pretty," Rey commented and Kina thought she heard Poe muffle a moan next to her as her foot continued its journey. Kina heard K-0’s disgruntled mutterings as they darted off to find a place to power down for the night.

"Thank you," Kina replied. "They’re unique. Like fingerprints for humans."

"Can I touch them?" Rey asked, slumping slightly onto the table.

"That’s enough," Poe stated, rising from his chair and crossing behind Kina to slip his arms under Rey’s and hold her upright. "I think that’s enough for you. Chewie can you help?"

"Of course," Chewie said, using one arm to brush his pile of chits into the bag across his chest before getting up. "I have you," he said with a low rumble, reaching an arm down and lifting Rey up against him.

"That’s my cue too," Finn grinned, stuffing his chits into his jacket pockets. He held one of the blue ones with Poe’s name scrawled across it up. "Do not think you will be getting off this one easy."

Poe smiled at him, gesturing for Finn to help him move the table back to its place before he followed Chewie out. Kina carefully scooped Rey’s chits into a bag and set it off to the side before looking through her own winnings. Grinning, she found a grey one with Poe’s name on it.

"I wonder what trouble I could get into with this," she asked, turning to look at him.

His hand closed over hers, pulling her to him. "I don’t think you needed to play sabacc to get that."

She raised an eyebrow, biting her lip. His own gaze dropped to her mouth, then slid lower, tracing every one of the marks on her body until they disappeared under her shirt.

"All the way huh?" She nodded and felt him step closer, his chest touching hers. "Maker what you do to me," he muttered before his lips touched hers and she felt everything inside of her catch fire and then melt in one sharp burst of light.

His mouth was warm, soft, gently pressing against hers. Varying the pressure, occasionally using his lips to pull on hers. He tasted of whiskey and himself, an intoxicating combination even if Kina hadn’t already had her own drink. He was taking his time, exploring, going so incredibly slowly that Kina thought she might jump out of her skin. She slid a hand around his neck, sinking her fingers into his hair and tugging him closer.

It was like she toggled a switch. His lips parted, his tongue caressing her bottom lip until she opened for him and then he was inside her. Stroking her. His soft moans reverberating through them both. His arms wrapped around her and he lifted her slightly until she was sitting on the edge of the table. She clutched him to her, returning kiss for kiss, letting her tongue play along his until she was forced to break for air, softly whistling.

"Poe."

As one they both froze at the sound, and then turned to look at Threepio. The droid cocked their head, looking at them both before looking behind themself. When they turned back they raised their arms and asked, "I take it my services are no longer required?"

"I think we can take it from here," Poe said solemnly and Kina had to hide her smile against his shoulder. She listened to the droid’s shuffling footsteps recede and then felt Poe place a finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to his.

"Where were we?"

=

Chpt 9

[inspirationdivine]

Chance Encounters || Frank and Lydia

Timing: Current Parties: @frankmulloy @inspirationdivine Summary: Lydia and Frank meet during one of Lydia’s hunts Warnings: None!

Hunting humans occasionally meant coming to places like… this. It wasn’t true terrible, if she was honest, but it also wasn’t the Artesian. After some of the places she’d been to watch Todd perform, this human singer’s choice of venue was more than acceptable. Shortly after she walked in, Lydia’s chest began to ring, like wind chimes in a breeze. Somewhere in here was a fae, she knew it. “Darling, do you mind waiting here a moment?” Lydia asked, walking away from their booth and over to the bar, until she spotted him, an incredibly beautiful man who couldn’t be anything other than fae. He had to be. Lydia slipped to the front, thrilled to meet another fae, so she reached over the bar to offer her hand to shake him. “Hi! I’m Lydia, it’s ever such a pleasure to meet you!”

 Thus far into his shift Frank has abstained from engaging with any of the Pint’s patrons (not that he was overly chatty with any of them to begin with), he had instead isolated himself from them by cleaning the glass pints with a sort of silent determination, looking up only when an order was placed and back down again when it was satisfied. In true Mulloy manner, he had built his own space which few had ever dared to cross, that afternoon was one such exception. The introduction of one, Lydia, was like a plunged blade, spearing through his cocoon of isolated peace. Her beauty was undoubtedly singular, but it was her very being that sung to him. A moment of jarring silence lasted between them, and it only occurred to Frank then that he was holding his breath. Now Frank never shook anyone’s hand, a habit that he had carefully crafted for himself and yet he took hers. Wary flesh on a waiting one, and all at once it was like an electrical shock had been administered on a heart that was flatlining, and then Frank was breathing again. “Frank.” His voice sounded uncertain but that was most definitely his name. 

 "Frank! It's a genuine pleasure." Lydia replied with an effortless smile. When he took her hand, the bells rang loudest, like the bell tower had struck noon. He looked a little alarmed, but maybe most fae had better taste than here. Lydia looked around briefly, but there wasn’t anyone overhearing them. They were much too focused on getting the attention of whoever was actually serving them. Forgetting about the human she’d come here with altogether, Lydia smiled as she lifted herself onto a bar seat in front of him."This was the last piece I expected to meet someone like us. Have you been working here long?" Maybe he was just shy. 

 Frank’s eyes followed her every movement as she lifted herself up onto the bar seat, waiting perhaps for some sort of glamour to fall away and reveal that she was more or less exactly like the rest of them. That this sudden intensity was the subject of his own making, born from wishful thinking and helpless desperation. It did not. He wasn’t sure if relieved was quite the right word. This exact moment had transpired between him and the bar owner before, a man was also like him, like them, and yet even as history played out before him again, he was just as graceless with it the second time as he was the first. “Not that long--I’m sorry like us?” He’s heard of the existence of other subspecies of faes, though he could not name all of them even if you paid him. While she felt familiar, it still wasn’t exactly the same. Perhaps that was the source of his hesitation. Or perhaps it was the way she so obviously enjoyed herself. She carried with her an easy smile that he could not hope to imitate, and was still unsure of whether he even wanted to.

 He was watching her ever so keenly, Lydia felt like she was in a room with Regan again. He was trying to understand her, or perhaps, more vainly, he just couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had that effect on some people and most humans. Until he spoke, that was, and threw all her expectations out of the window. Lydia's smile dripped off her face in surprise and concern. Oh no. She was dealing with another Regan, wasn’t she? How were there so many lost fae in this town? “Do you not…. Feel a similarity? Oh, darling. I’m ever so sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.” She said, unsure how to approach this. “Do you really not know what I’m talking about?” He was supposed to be working, this was hardly the time to drop something so significant.

 Wait, what?—Frank shook his head, shaking off some of his initial surprise with it. Frank never liked surprises. Surprises either tried to kill him or rendered him stupid. Both were equally undesirable outcomes. The enchantment released its hold and slowly he began to find the functions of his brain again. Finally he regained the ability to put words and coherent thought together so he might be able to communicate with someone where no caution and distance were needed, because she was right, they were alike; the same. Was that not what Frank had always wanted? To be the same? “No, I mean, I know what you’re talking about,” he said, with perhaps the most articulacy he’s had in their entire short conversation, “I just mean you’re not…gancanagh. You’re like me but you’re not…like me. So what are you?”

 He took a moment to resettle himself. Lydia didn’t mind to wait, concern creasing her features. Eventually, when he did speak, Lydia breathed a soft sigh of relief. “Oh, I was worried!” She tilted her head in surprise. He was not wrong, of course, once he explained what it was that he was. All fae rang the bell chimes in her chest in the same way, but she might have been able to guess by his beauty. “Well, no, I couldn’t possibly be. I’m neither a man nor at all masculine in any way. No more than you could be a banshee.” She smiled, leaning in as if to tell him a secret - she was. “Although we are perhaps more similar than you might expect. I’m a Leanan Sidhe. A muse. I inspire art.” 

 Leannán Sídhe. The name was familiar to him, attached to an old, distant, memory of his childhood. Of his mother telling him stories about beasts and faeries from their Irish folklore. Not that any self-respecting eleven year old boy ever paid much attention to stories about faeries, that was of course, before the wings started growing in. But even at his tender age, he did not have the heart to tell her that her bedtime stories were true, least of all those that were not exactly complimentary of the faerie folk. “But it’s never as simple as just inspiring art though is it?” He held her eyes as he answered the cost of that inspiration with a silent gaze. At least she inspired art, Frank was too afraid to even shake a stranger’s hand. The destruction left behind by both were much the same, and Frank was not ignorant of the woman whose eyes kept an unwavering hold on Lydia’s back. “Is she one of your...artists?”

 Oh, he had merely been tongue tied. Lydia smiled, easing more comfortably into her seat now she wasn’t so worried of frightening him. The words meant something to him, and he was blunt in asking about her diet, which made Lydia smile. “No, but then again, no pain no gain, as the saying goes,” she replied, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.  Lydia looked back to Kelly, giving her a small wave. She was so young, yet ever so enthusiastic to share her songs. Lonely, too, but that was the nature of humans that age. She couldn’t quite work out whether Frank was asking out of judgement or plain curiosity, and considering how wide and varied fae morality could be, she decided to play it safe, if always entirely honest. “Her interest is currently natural, rather than cultivated, if that’s what you’re asking. We’re on a thirty day free trial, as it were. What about you? This is not a bad place to work and find a meal for the evening. The company on the other hand…” Lydia looked around the room, and while of course she could not truly tell what anyone was, she was very confident that practically everyone here bar the two of them had to be human. They just had to be. “I imagine it has its ups and downs.”

 Lydia served her own brand of cool indifference, far from concerned by notions of shame or guilt, on how or whom they survived on, and Frank had to suppress a shudder. Her smile was all winter and he had always struggled in the cold, but oh did she wear it so well. Her every word stroked gently at the hungry thing that lived in the marrows of his bones and the pit of his stomach, one Frank kept carefully starved with cheap whiskey and cheaper cigarettes. “I don’t mind, I’m not much of a people person anyway,” he said mildly, and then added, “the shepherd’s pie isn’t so bad…and the stew tastes pretty decent on the nights they remember to season it right.” It was a truth well known that faes couldn’t tell a lie, although Frank had become very good at living one. To pretend to himself that his judgement was from a place of righteous morals, and not from a place of deeper, venomous, resentment that she was so free to do as she was ordained and without remorse for being exactly as she was. It was her nature, as it was his, but why was he the only one telling himself that it was wrong?

 "Really? Now that is a surprise." Lydia knew a fair few gancanagh, who she would have described as the definition of people persons, but there were exceptions to every rule. Horrifically, her mind turned to Jax, the Gancanagh who had worked at the ring, using his silver tongue to force Remmy to fight for his own personal gain. Frank seemed nothing like that man, and by all means, if Jax had been manipulating any other zombie, Lydia might not have minded so much. “I’ll keep the recommendations in mind if I ever bring someone who needs to eat around,” she chuckled, pushing her thoughts far away from Remmy. "By all means, let me know if I'm bothering you. I just… really like to introduce myself to fae when I run into them. It’s easier in this town than most, but still,  and I don’t think I’d seen you at Faetal Attraction."

 Frank answered Lydia’s surprise with his own, evident in the arch of his brow and the slight part of his lips, as if he wanted to say something but was unsure of the words. He was an oddity to her, it seemed, which begged the question of how many faes like him did she know? And then a small voice added most delicately: was his father among those acquaintances? He quickly guided his curiosity elsewhere, back to the present, to the name of a place he was not yet familiar with. He hasn’t been in White Crest all that long and much of his time was spent divided between tending the bar at the Pint and then at Soul, with little spared to himself, or anything else. A poor habit that needed amending, not that Frank was in any great rush to do that either. “Fatal attraction? Like the movie?”

 Lydia stared at him for a five-count, before laughing in her bewilderment. “No, like the bar,” she chuckled, pressing her hand against her chest. “I’m not laughing at you, I’m ever so sorry. This town has a propensity for puns which results in just this sort of confusion.  F-A-E Faetal.” Her chuckles had subsided, as she looked at him questioningly. “It’s a place for people like us to meet other fae. Oh, come on, now you have to let me take you sometime. Sometime when you aren’t working, we’ll make a night of it.” Better than this place, certainly, but who was she to judge? “I know you said you aren’t a people person, but there are quieter times that we could go, and it’s fun, even for a short while.”

Her pretty promise came with an even prettier smile, and Frank was immediately put ill at ease. He had developed an almost instinctual aversion toward charm, and charming people, and Lydia was practically dripping with it. A series of practiced excuses were laid out on his tongue (this was not the first time Frank had to talk his way out of doing something or going somewhere he did not want to), but underneath the coiling chain of dishonesty, a little presence at the back of his consciousness demanded his attention: curiosity. Frank has never been in a room with more than one fae at a time. People like us. He had always been intrigued by how many of them they were, how many species of faes existed beyond those he already knew of (which was not many at all), what was this community like that his ‘normal’ upbringing had deprived him of? Frank was practiced in denying himself a great many pleasures, but always failed at refusing his own curiosity. To curb any great display of enthusiasm, he resigned to her invitation with a measured, “I’ll think about it.”

 He hesitated. Lydia just couldn’t get a read on him, not yet, but she would. With every passing day, her loneliness threatened to suffocate her a little more. At least a gancanagh would understand that part of her. All the same, she smiled in relief at his measured response. “Alright. Well, when you make up your mind, please drop me a line.” Lydia pulled her business card from her wallet, and looked at the quickly accumulating pile of dirty glass ware that she was distracting him from. “As much as I’m enjoying meeting you, I should probably not get you in trouble with work.” And she ought to return to sweet young Kelly, and her hunt. 

 Lydia Griffin. Art Conservator. Her contact information craftily spelled out  beneath in fine print. He put it inside his jacket pocket with no great care. At the time, he didn’t think he would ever come to need it. It wasn’t as if they socialised in the same social circle. Frank wasn’t social at all! You need only look at their dress to realise their differences, which was stark. Outwardly, anyway. What stopped him from throwing the little rectangle of (probably expensive—it looked expensive) paper away altogether was a feeling. He wasn’t sure when, or under what circumstance but they would meet again, of this he had no doubt. Frank looked at the young woman at the table; still waiting. Evidence of impatience present in the increased frequency of glances she kept shooting in their direction. “Right, I should let you get back to your guest.” Frank took a moment, not as certain in his own pleasure at having met Lydia. He said instead, “I’ll see you around.” And he would, even if he didn’t know it yet.

[azvolrien]

Clearing the Air

One night a week after Asta’s return to the broch, she and Roan have a little chat about their respective pasts. Mostly Asta’s.

TW for discussion of slavery, I guess, but nothing terribly graphic.

~~~

           Asta smiled to herself in the gloom of the bedroom and cuddled closer to Roan under the blankets. The fire in the hearth below had died down, but the room was still warm with its residual heat and that of the chimney, while a small golden witchlight hovering above them cast just enough light to see by. It wavered slightly in the air; when Roan fell asleep it would vanish altogether, but she wasn’t quite there yet. She lay on her back, watching the ceiling through half-lidded eyes, and without speaking she brought one arm up to encircle Asta and hug her in against her side. A faint frown creased the skin between her eyebrows.

           Asta brushed her fingers over her cheek, tracing the shape of the water horse tattooed there. “What are you thinking about?” she said, only just above a whisper. Even that felt loud through the silence.

           Roan’s chest rose beneath Asta’s arm as she took a deep breath. Idly, she lifted her other hand to caress Asta’s hair, teasing her fingers through the ink-black strands. “Two years since you left for Stormhaven. One week since you came back. Suppose…” She shook her head. “Suppose maybe I’m just not used to sharing my sleeping space again yet.”

           Asta turned onto her front and propped her chin on one hand, trailing the other down over Roan’s jaw and throat to investigate the more abstract symbols inked into the skin there, before her fingers finally settled on the designs on her chest: strange notched rectangles below each collarbone and just above her breasts, the one on the right crossed by a zigzag line like an arrow broken in two places, and a disc between them over the top of her breastbone. The linen tunic Roan wore at night was a little looser than her day clothes, and the collar was low enough to show the tattoos that were normally hidden. “That’s not what you were going to say,” said Asta, taking a moment to observe the difference in their skin tones – hers the warm golden-brown of her Hawk Steppes grandmother, Roan’s dotted with tiny freckles but otherwise so pale it was almost white. “Is it?”

           Roan took another deep breath and looked up to meet Asta’s eyes. “No. No, it isn’t. You see… You’re the closest I’ve ever had to a long-term relationship. I did go out with a few other girls, at school and at university, but…” She paused, working her jaw from side to side. “They called it off when they found out I was a berserker. Every one of them. Understandable, I suppose. Most people don’t want to get too close.”

           “And you’re worried I’ll do the same?” said Asta, circling the disc on Roan’s chest with the tip of one finger.

           “I wouldn’t say ‘worried’ is the right word,” said Roan. “Gods, you’ve seen me go berserk – none of the others had. If it scared you that much you wouldn’t have come back here. But… in the dark, at the back of my mind… Aye. I suppose there’s some wee bit that’s feart you’ll decide you made a mistake and go back to Stormhaven. Back to civilisation.”

           “I know what you’re capable of,” said Asta. “I’ve seen you fight, yes – but you’ve always been gentle with me. I’m not afraid of you.”

           “You’ve had enough rough treatment to last you a lifetime,” said Roan. She brushed one hand over the scars on Asta’s back, raised enough that they were clear to the touch even through her nightdress, in case there was any doubt as to what she meant. “If this is your home now, then…”

           Asta leant down to kiss her and lightly touched her forehead to Roan’s, then settled back down beside her, resting her head on Roan’s shoulder. “Civilisation’s overrated anyway.”

           Roan smiled. “So you’re not secretly terrified nature meant me to be some brutal killer?”

           Asta propped herself on one elbow again and studied Roan’s face intently for a few seconds. “Gryphons are obligate carnivores. I’m going somewhere with this,” she added when Roan raised an eyebrow at the apparent non sequitur. “They can eat plant matter, as seasoning or to bulk out a meal a bit, but they have to eat meat; a gryphon that tried to cut it out of their diet altogether would end up starving themself.

           “The head housemistress for the apprentices boarding at the College of Sorcery back in Stormhaven is a gryphon. Matron Inkfoot. All the students adore her – for many of them she’s the closest they have to a parent for most of the year. I was speaking to her one day, and I made a comment that the gryphons weren’t what I’d expected – how some of them were in careers like the military or the police, careers where they were more likely to see combat, but far more worked as messengers, shopkeepers, teachers, bankers, cleaners; almost any line of work where you’d expect a human, there were some gryphons who’d chosen it. Things I wouldn’t have thought would be in the nature of a huge carnivore. Inkfoot sort of cocked her head thoughtfully and said ‘Look at me. Nature built me as a hunter, meant me to fly out after prey, drop from the sky and rip it apart with my beak and talons. Instead I work here, caring for all the generations of children who’ve passed through the College.’”

           Asta paused to brush a loose hair out of Roan’s face. “The point she was trying to make is that… Only animals have to do what nature intended for them. A person,” she tapped the end of Roan’s nose with one finger, “has a choice. And I think, whatever nature intended for you, you made yours a long time ago – long before you ever came to live out here.”

           Roan smiled and pulled her back down in another hug, wrapping both arms tightly around her. “You’re quite wise, you ken.” Asta wriggled free and lay beside her, her head back on Roan’s shoulder. “My turn, then,” said Roan, brushing her fingers through Asta’s hair again. “What’s on your mind? I see you just… staring sometimes.”

           “Me? Nothing.”

           “As-ta…”

           Asta sighed. “Well, you were always perceptive. It’s memories that keep me awake at night, not worries about the future.”

           “Daro?”

           “He is where most of the nightmares come from,” said Asta. Roan held her a little tighter and nuzzled her hair. “But when I can’t sleep, it’s not just because of him. It’s… getting the news about my parents’ accident. Standing on the auction block at the slave market. Coming into Lady MacArra’s office that morning and finding her on the floor. Things like that.”

           “You’ve been through a lot. It’s no wonder it still needs some time to fade.”

           “It’s been years, though.”

           “Aye. And then, sometimes, it’s yesterday.”

           Asta stared unseeingly into space for a few moments before she nodded. “Exactly.” Another pause. “Can I… Never mind.”

           “Hm?”

           “Can I… can I tell you about the market?”

           “You can tell me anything,” said Roan. “Except,” she added more firmly, “that any of it was your fault.”

           Asta breathed a laugh and shifted her weight, laying her arm over Roan’s midriff. “There are a lot of slave markets in the Imperial City,” she began. “More than any other city in the Empire. Most of them are in the Great Market down by the shipyards at the river – you can buy anything there, and I really do mean practically anything – but there are others scattered throughout the city. Lots of different companies and auction houses, dealing with different types of people – different types on both ends of the transaction, the buyers and the bought – but all members of the Slavers’ League. People sometimes think the League is one big organisation, but really it’s a coalition of many different smaller ones.

           “I did a bit of research beforehand, looking at who the different groups were dealing in – I mean, I knew there wasn’t much point going to a company specialising in arena fighters. So I found an auction house that seemed promising, walked into their reception, and explained things. They were… not unsympathetic, in a detached sort of way. I’d already sold almost everything I had left, and had to sign everything else over to the slavers. Everything, right down to my clothes. The only thing I could keep was Pardus, and only because they couldn’t sell it; they still took it, but to pass on to whoever ended up buying me. They interviewed me, finding out things like my education, family background, skills and so on, and took me through to another room for a physical inspection by a healer. They gave me a shift to wear and took the rest of my clothes away. I assume they laundered them and passed them on to be sold, because I never saw them again. After that they just collared me and locked me in a cell at the back to wait for the auction. There were lots of them. Cells, I mean. Not a full prison’s worth, but enough for maybe thirty, forty people.

           “I remember… The walls between the cells were thin. Wood, not stone like the outside walls, though too sturdy to break through without tools. Not much furniture, though more than I’d expected – a bunk with a proper mattress and a blanket, not just straw on the floor, and a toilet in one corner instead of just a bucket. It was late Nivalis by then, just shy of the New Year, so it was freezing outside, but the window had glass in it behind the bars so it wasn’t that cold inside the cell itself. I lay down on the bunk and wrapped the blanket around myself.  

           “I started crying. Partly it was relief that whatever else happened, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting letters and, and visits from creditors any more, but mostly it was… other things. Grief – it was all still so recent, and I’d been so busy making all the arrangements that I hadn’t… hadn’t really had time to process things. Fear. Well, that one’s self-explanatory. Guilt. What right did I have to be scared, when I’d volunteered for slavery and some people get dragged off the back roads into it?” Without interrupting, Roan kissed her forehead and stroked her hair again.

           Asta fell silent, staring into space for a while. Roan just held her without prompting her to continue, and eventually she spoke again.

           “Somebody knocked on the wall behind me. There was a man in the next cell, quite a lot older than me by the sound of his voice. I never saw his face or learned his name, but… He spoke to me.

           “‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I know you can hear me through there. Focus on my voice, and breathe slowly and deeply. You’ll get through this.’ I did as he said and sat up, still with the blanket around me. I was still shaking, only a bit from the cold, but I could stop crying. ‘This your first time on the wrong side of the auction block?’ I nodded, before I remembered he couldn’t see me, and said it was. ‘Not mine. This will be my… sixth. I’m a teacher, you see; rich families buy me as a tutor for their children, then sell me on when the children outgrow the schoolroom.’ He paused. ‘This auction house isn’t too bad, as they go. They don’t sample the goods and they give you a private cell instead of shoving you in a holding pen.

           “‘The auction is tomorrow. They’ll assign you a lot number in the morning, then come and get you from the cell when it’s time for you to go up. When you’re on the block, stand up straight, shoulders back, chin up – this house doesn’t strip you for the block, but people still like to see what they’re buying. Keep your eyes on the far wall. Don’t make eye contact with any of the buyers – you never know how they’ll react.  

           “‘Once you’re paid for, well, slaves are beneath notice for most of them; keep your head down and do your work and by and large you’ll probably be ignored. Not much recognition for your work, but they likely won’t be doling out beatings every day either. If you’re unlucky… Learn how to read your owner. Whatever they do will be over more quickly if you give them the reaction they’re looking for.’ I just swallowed, and I heard him sigh. ‘As slaves, the only protection we have under the law is what our owners give us. We all have to learn to look after ourselves – whatever that involves.’

           “We talked for a bit longer, just sharing stories, until it got fully dark outside and we were too tired to keep talking. Somehow, I managed to go to sleep. I never heard from him again – he must have been an earlier lot, and was taken away before my number came up. I do wonder what happened to him sometimes. I hope he made it out somehow, but failing that, I just hope someone kind bought him.”

           “As far as you can use that word for a slave-owner,” muttered Roan.

           “Mm,” said Asta, and paused for another few seconds. Again, Roan just waited for her to continue. “They came to get me mid-morning. A couple of guards took me through to the auction hall with my wrists tied, but they undid the cuffs before they shoved me up on the block. They weren’t unduly rough, just… brisk.” Roan frowned and her arm tightened slightly around Asta, but she remained silent. “Most of the auction’s a bit of a blur – like the man in the next cell told me, I tried to just stare at the far wall and ignore the buyers, but I can still remember exactly what the auctioneer said. ‘Lot Thirty-Four: Kiraani female; twenty-one-year-old nulligravida, five feet and five inches in height and physically sound. Educated to university level; fully literate and numerate. We’ll start the bidding at five hundred zolots.’”

           “‘Nulli-’”

           “It means I’ve never been pregnant,” said Asta. She gave a rather small, hollow laugh. “Well, there was quite a bidding war. There were a lot of bidders at first, but Lady MacArra soon stepped in and kept driving the price up and up until it was down to just her and one other, then just her, and the long and the short of it was I ended up selling for quite a lot more than five hundred zolots. The auctioneer looked a bit stunned from it all – she clearly hadn’t expected that much interest. The guards took me down from the block and handed me over as Lady MacArra signed to finalise the purchase, then she just gave me her coat – to wear, not to carry – and swept out of the auction house.

           “It wasn’t just her and me – she had her… her bodyguard-assistant with her, this very big, very quiet man called Angus – but he never said a word I could hear the whole time. We all went over to this restaurant not too far from the auction house.

           “She got us a table and waved for me and Angus to sit down. Handed me a menu and said to order whatever I wanted. ‘You look as if you haven’t had a decent meal in a good few days,’ she said, and sat down across the table from me. Daro must have got his eyes from her – they were this very bright, piercing blue, but they weren’t… they weren’t cold on her like they were on him. The waiter came to take our orders, and once he’d gone she kept talking. ‘My family believes I never buy slaves,’ she said. ‘In truth I buy them quite frequently – I buy them, and then I release them immediately, no questions asked.’ She must have seen the panic on my face, because she went on to say, ‘If your freedom is what you want then it is yours,’ and looked at me very carefully.

           “And… Well. If I was some heroine in a novel I’m sure I would’ve taken it, but when the alternative was sleeping in an alley in Nivalis with nothing but a linen shift between me and… anything… Some vague ideal of ‘freedom’ didn’t seem too high a price to pay. Don’t judge me,” she added, half pleading and half defensive.

           Roan just stroked her hair again.

           “So instead Lady MacArra nodded and said ‘Then I will make you a different offer. It seems I am in need of a secretary. Come back to Duncraig with me. I shall provide you with a stipend for your personal use, to save or to spend as you see fit, on top of full room and board. Five years, or until my death; whichever comes soonest. That should give you time to get back on your feet.’ And… I just started crying, but she realised immediately that it was from relief and just nodded again. ‘We have a long journey back to Duncraig ahead of us. We shall need to find you some proper clothes.’

           “And… That’s kind of where the story stops being interesting. We went to a shop and got me enough clothes to get me back to Duncraig, stayed one more night in the Imperial City – she’d booked rooms in a hotel, enough for all three of us – then got in a coach and started on the road back to the Sea Lochs. It took a while, but nothing much happened on the way.”

           “Five years,” mused Roan. “You said you lived with her for five years, back then.”

           “Just short of it, really,” said Asta. “As I said – she bought me in late Nivalis of 2732, and she died in mid-Gracilis of 2737.” She gave another hollow little laugh and cast her eyes down. “If she’d lived for just one more month, I would have been free and Daro would never have been able to do anything about it.” She sighed. “But then I would never have met you. A lot of things have happened that I could have done without,” almost unconsciously, she reached back over her shoulder to touch the scars, “but that isn’t one of them.”

           “Good to know.” Roan rolled onto her side so they lay face-to-face and ran one hand slowly over Asta’s back again, gently exploring the scars with her fingertips. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?” she asked.

           “A tattoo? Well… My grandmother on my father’s side had some, but she was from the Hawk Steppes; they were tribal markings. They’re not really a Kiraani tradition. They’ve become rather fashionable as Prince Zarannon became more prominent – his mother is Yaigan, one of the Steppe tribes, though not the one Grandma was from – and even more so now he’s the Emperor, but a lot of the older generation still look down on them. Why do you ask?”

           “When I was getting the seal on my back done, I wasn’t the only customer in the tattoo shop,” said Roan. “One of the other tattooists was working with a man who’d been caught in a house fire; one arm and half of his face was covered in scarring, and maybe more I couldn’t see. But once the burns had healed, he’d decided to get them covered in tattoos – not to disguise them, but to turn them into a work of art. My tattooist explained that they get quite a few people like that – people who’d been attacked, had accidents, or just otherwise had something big happen to their bodies against their will. She said it was a way of taking back control, of going ‘this is mine, and I won’t let what happened change that.’”

           “I wasn’t raped,” said Asta quietly. “I’ve told you that.”

           “I know, and I’m glad you did, because I don’t know if I could bear to ask if you hadn’t. But there’s more than one kind of violation. Maybe it would help you… I don’t know. Just forget I said anything.”

           Asta drew in a long, deep breath and slowly let it back out. “Well,” she said, stroking one finger down Roan’s nose from the bridge to the tip, “I wouldn’t want to copy your style.”

           Roan gave a small smile, and her chest quivered slightly with a silent laugh. “I take it that’s a ‘no’.”

           “More of a ‘perhaps, I’ll give it some thought’,” said Asta. She reached up and tugged one of her ears. “But then, maybe I’ll just get another earring instead. This might surprise you, considering everything else, but I don’t know if I have the pain threshold to sit still long enough for a tattoo.” She paused. “So, your tattoos…”

           “Don’t have any tragic stories behind them,” Roan assured her. Her smile broadened into a grin. “Though some of them were pretty sore to have done.”  

           “What was the worst?”

           “It’s probably a toss-up between this one,” Roan touched the crescent on her forehead, “and this one.” The disc above her heart. “Close to the bone, you know. Where there’s more flesh to cushion the needle it just feels a bit like this.” She found Asta’s shoulder under the blankets and scraped a fingernail across her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

           “I suppose you are practically a living pain chart for tattoos,” said Asta with a grin.

           “You’re not joking as much as you think you are.” Roan turned her face aside for a moment, yawning so widely her jaw clicked, and laid one arm over Asta to hug her close enough to breathe in the scent of her hair. Asta curled up against her, wriggled comfortably, and closed her eyes.

           “Any plans for tomorrow?” she asked without opening them.

           “We could take a walk up the coast, if you’re up for it. I’d like to show you the cave where I gather the chert for my arrowheads – it’s a couple of miles away, but the walk’s mostly on the flat.”

           “Mm, that does sound interesting.” Asta pulled the blankets more snugly around herself and hooked one leg around the back of Roan’s knee. “We can see what the weather’s like in the morning.”

           Roan chuckled softly and brushed one more kiss against Asta’s forehead. “Sleep well, love.”

           Asta didn’t answer. The last of the tension had left her body, and her breathing was deep and steady. Roan closed her own eyes, let the witchlight vanish, and followed her into sleep.

~~~

Roan is quite pale despite her generally outdoorsy lifestyle; partly because she lives in Fantasy Scotland, and partly because she’s one of those people who just gets frecklier and frecklier without ever really tanning.

[augustwash1]

Latest iPhone Phones Continue Getting Significantly Better

Users more than likely are in agreement with me personally that iPhone X design was among the very best, and that is exactly why Apple decided to keep the identical look for their next set of exclusive cell phones. Introduced a year ago, it's the very first Apple cellphone to take out the main button. In the other, I held its own brand-new successor, the Iphone Xs. My eyes squeezed shut, I passed them back and forth between my hands, rolling each phone above, feeling the curves, glass springs, dual lens camera bumps, and radar vents. I realized that I couldn't tell the difference between the two phones. This is not a criticism. It is just a simple fact of S version years, in which Apple locks at the iPhone design and concentrates, rather, on upgrading key internal parts. Therefore, the biggest changes to the 5.8-inches Iphone Xs and its big brother, the 6.5-inch iPhone XS Max, each of which I analyzed, can be seen in functionality (thanks to this new A12 Bionic CPU), photographs and movies, (new digital cameras and a new ISP endorsed by the A12), along with functionality (iOS12, the last version of which came pre-applied in my test units). The outcome is a pair of fantastic, tasteful, and high-performing devices that will please iPhone enthusiasts and receive over a few glances out of Android smartphones. It still has the exact rigid surgical steel frame wrapped into a brand new glass material which Apple stated was devised to be scratch resistant and heavy duty. I gave the phones a couple half-hearted drops on a thin-pile rug but wasn't prepared to let them slide away . So far I have discovered just one very nice scrape on your iPhone Xs Max. So let us consider them scratch-resistant, however still not scratch-proof. The bigger iPhone Xs Max shares all the iPhone X's substance and layout attributes, but does this in a 6.2-inch x 3.05-inch x 0.30-inch human anatomy. In 208 grams, it is substantially thicker than the Iphone Xs. The Xs Max is really a hair shorter (0.04 inches) and thinner (0.02 inches), however, it's also a couple of grams bulkier when compared to the Iphone 8 Plus, the big-screen telephone that from a space the Iphone Xs Max most looks like. Button positioning power/sleep, quantity controllers, ring/silent switch -- will be exactly the same. However, there is one minor chassis difference. At the bottom edge of the telephones sits the lightning connector. It's book-ended by means of a pair of drilled holes that accommodate one half of their stereo speaker program and among the telephone's microphones. There was six openings on either side. Now the ideal side includes six slotsbut the left, that just houses a microphone, has just three. This small change was done, in part, to adapt the new inner antenna configuration which includes 4x4 MIMO and License Assisted accessibility, which utilizes unlicensed 5 GHz range to provide 1 Gbps chip over LTE. Apple updated the water and also dust-resistance rating to IP 68, which translates to the handsets residing in 2 meters of water for up to half an hour. I did not get to go swimming with all the iPhone Xs or Xs Max, but didn't run the latter phone below normal water, juice and milk. Afterward, as advocated, I rinsed and dried off the smart phone. I was careful not to plug it back into a lighting cable (that is a no-no after a dowsing) but didn't put it on a wireless charging foundation at which it had no problem accepting a fee. Apple, incidentally, said it put some effort in making the wireless charging platform (basically the hidden coils within the phone) more forgiving. This is great news, since I have, on more than 1 occasion, woken up to find that my iPhone X did not charge because I placed it a modest off-axis about the charging base. I have never ran into that issue with the iPhone Xs or Xs Max. The Iphone Xs and iPhone Xs Max body frames are somewhat rigid and solid-feeling, but torqueable, particularly the bigger telephone, which actually creates a tiny clicking sound once I attempt to twist it. Apparently, I've just had those iPhones for a week, but based on a calendar year's experience with the original iPhone X (granted, mostly in a thin instance ), I consider this design framework tough and ready for the long run. Even now as Samsung follows Apple to the dense black cutout at the peak of this iPhone Xs and Xs Max, Apple shows no traces of going backwards in the multi-option technology, which neither grew nor slipped in the most recent iPhones. Just like the original TrueDepth Module, that one is still packed with all the exact components (none of that, as much as I can tell, have been updated). There is a 7 MP camera, dot projector for depth sensing, infrared camera (depth sensing), flooding illuminator (yes, too for depth-sensing), proximity detector, ambient light detector, the second half of the stereo speaker program, plus a mic. On the backs of the iPhone Xs and Xs Max, there is more of the custom glass, the Apple Logo, the word Iphone (but no"X" or"s"), along with the 12 MP dual camera system. This vertically-oriented, pill-shaped camera module appears exactly the same as it did to the last iPhone X. It is still a prominent bulge, but it didn't get any bigger. Within the module is new hardware backed by new image technologies, but more on that later. I've always considered that the 5.8-inch Iphone X an fantastic tradeoff involving a big-screen phone and hand-friendly ergonomics. The screen is large and immersive, however, the body is comfortable to hold and pocket. The iPhone Xs Max in comparison can, particularly if you're used to holding a more compact phone, feel big. It is not embarrassing to hold, however people with smaller hands will probably fight with one-handed use and will likely want to turn Reachability, which with a swipe down on the flat bar moves all halfway down the screen, which makes it longer accessible. Still, the trade-off might be worth it. I forgot just how much I like the larger iPhone display, and about the iPhone Xs Max, you get much more screen without contending with a bigger phone (there is just that 0.04-inch height difference between the Iphone 8 Plus and the iPhone Xs Max). Apple's full-stack management of the iPhone layout, development, and production process pays dividends throughout the handset. However, it's most clearly from the silicon, which can be designed and developed in conjunction with the software and hardware components that will rely on it. Last year, Apple revealed the A11 Bionic, a powerful cellular CPU with built in Artificial Intelligence Power. The newest A12 Bionic assembles on that short legacy with a more powerful Neural Engine and much more impressive graphics performance. When I discuss a brand new Iphone, I begin using Geekbench 4 to check out the raw CPU operation. To ensure that there are minimum background processes going, I usually run the exam before I've set up a single app. I ran the Geekbench CPU benchmark and (together with understanding that Apple stuffed an additional gig of memory within the brand new Xs course iPhones) found that the single core scores had improved marginally between the A11 Bionic along with A12 Bionic. However, that the multi-core score was inexplicably lower. Not by a good deal, but I hadn't ever seen that happen. The amounts were still much higher than what I obtained from Qualcomm's Snapdragon 845, however a lower result on the new Iphone didn't make sense. However, once I reran the Geekbench CPU evaluation per day or so after, the A12 multi-core numbers beat those of the A11. My guess is that, though I set up the iPhone Xs and Xs Max as fresh iPhones, there may nevertheless have been some background setup process going on that dragged down the CPU amounts. The bigger leap in functionality is in the Geekbench Compute Metal Score, which jumped from 15,145 on the Iphone X into 22,245 about the Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Apple's done a great deal of work to beef up graphics performance, particularly for the raft of ARKit two (and Surface 2) software heading into the stage, some of which can support multiplayer gaming. While there aren't a lot of ARKit 2 programs in the program store, I did get a hands-on time using an Iphone Xs operating Galaga ARthe identical demonstration Apple showed off during the iPhone Xs unveiling. To play with, me and a couple of other writers stood on a desk and pointed out our telephones at the Galaga video arcade game console. Soon, alien attackers began streaming first from the video game display and from all round us. I swung the phone from side-to-side up and up and down to watch and then shoot the incoming assault. It had been fast-paced and a lot of fun. In the same way, I've seen how, together with ARKit two, the telephone can set, say, a very realistic digital pressure stove or sneaker to a real table or at my toes, the illusion broken only when I slid my hands to the framework and, about the iPhone Xs screen, it looked just like my notes had been stuck beneath the pot. You can't encourage these kinds of real-virtual combinations without ample graphics horsepower, thickness mapping, and the AI required to identify how surfaces, shadows, and even reflections will work on virtual shapes in a real open space. This processing ability also helped amp more ordinary operations such as Face ID. While the procedure for registering my head was unchanged from the original iPhone X, opening either phone with my face, in addition to utilizing Face ID to access password-protected apps and services, is significantly faster than it had been about the iPhone X. Overall, in actual programs, both Iphone Xs and Xs Max run reliably. Apple place massive work into enhancing the photo and movie experience on the Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Along with brand new lenses and a bigger sensor, both the cameras (rear and selfie) are all backed by a fresh picture signal cpu. The technical specs on the double cameras are untouched by the iPhone X (and would be the same on either the iPhone Xs and Xs Max). There is the 1.8 wide angle lens along with the f 2.4 2X telephoto. Both of those comprise optical image stabilization and will shoot around 4K video at 60 fps. They still take slow-motion video in up to 240 frames per second. If you'd like insane 960 fps super-slo-mo, then you are going to have to look to Samsung. In the pure-play photography race, though, Apple requires the head. The Smart HDR uses detector, ISP, and neural engine enhancements to catch a number of the finest high-dynamic range photographs I've ever seen. The gap between what has been possible on the first iPhone X and the Xs and Xs Max is stunning. Apple produced a system suitable of shooting 2 frames each thirtieth of a second, and immediately analyzing and combining them into a single image that preserves not only foreground and background detail, but that can freeze actions without presenting tremendous grain. In multiple images, I saw that the iPhone Xs and Xs Max find colour and detail in dark spaces without wasting out the lighter areas. The Samsung Galaxy Note 9 is also an excellent low light shooter, however I think the Xs line is a little better. I'm particularly impressed with how Apple's built upon its own position position in Portrait Mode digital photography. Apple created Portrait Mode in 2016 using the iPhone 7 Plus (the applications lagged from the hardware). Since that time, Apple's elegant the technology, adding items such as Studio Light, Contour Light, Stage Light, and Stage Light Mono. All these attributes remain, and are somewhat enhanced. That which I love and, as an amateur photographer who regularly performs with f-stops to get just the perfect depth of field effect, is that the newest Depth Control. Depth Control lets you choose a Portrait Mode photo and correct the Bokeh, or depth of field attention, after you shoot the photographs. This works with both front and rear cameras, which means that the image chip is using two different types of depth details. On the rear, it's the benefit of two lenses to find stereoscopic info. The front camera relies on the depth-sensing hardware. I understand, Samsung's Galaxy Note 9 gives the capability to correct background attention as you're shooting the image, as well as after. But, there is an essential difference here that is evident in the iPhone Xs and Xs Max Depth picture editor. It's a slider that lets you adjust smoothly from an electronic f 1.4 aperture to a virtual f16. At a real camera with a mechanical aperture, higher numbers interpret to sharper focus from the background along with reduced numbers imply the focus thickness is significantly shallower. About the Galaxy Note 9, Live Focus basically sees the pictures as two planes: the foreground and background. The slider blurs the background plane. The Iphone Xs's depth slider is based on all of the depth advice to reduce or enhance background focus through all of the planes between the very front of their subject and the background. Together with the enhanced Portrait Mode stitching (handling how the subject and a blurred background fit together), the subtlety of this effect through the selection of virtual f-stops is remarkable and, Apple's explained, is modeled on how actual lenses together with hardware apertures would influence each image. For most people the smartphone is their only camera. This places a pro-level command from the hands of millions of individuals, who are about to begin taking some really awesome portrait photographs. Just after capturing normal pics, movie, and even 4K, I continue to be stunned with the standard of photos and videos coming out of their iPhone Xs and Xs Max. Sure, it is strange that the larger Xs Max doesn't, as might be tradition, have any enhanced picture capturing features, however I doubt anyone is going to be dismayed with the photo quality delivered by either new mobile phone. There are a couple of other hardware-related enhancements, such as the guaranteed dual-sim technology which allows for multiple telephone numbers (believe work and individual numbers of one phone) via the support of eSIM technology. Unlike ordinary SIMs, you don't require a carrier card just for the provider to confirm it and allow it on your phone. It's a wonderful characteristic which, for obvious reasons, I could not test. For sound aficionados, there's also the new stereo recording and wider-stereo playback. This can be relatively hard to check, and I occasionally worry my ears aren't good enough to notice what could be a more nuanced difference. However, I'd find a method. I recordedin landscape mode, a few cars driving by. They begin on the left of this screen and push to the right. In video I recorded together with all the iPhone Xs, the noise travels from one side of the telephone to the other. Playback about the iPhone X is loud but lacks the identical degree of separation noise. Clearly, films with a great deal of sound engineering aren't just great displays for the amazing displays, but highlight the new, wider stereo playback abilities too. As hardware/software relationships go, you can not do better than the Apple iPhone Xs and iOS 12. I have been running betas of their new mobile OS for months on my iPhone X and found it incredibly smooth and stable. About the iPhone Xs and Xs Max, it becomes even better spouses. In addition to butter-smooth and lighting fast operation (in matches, video, and internet browsing), the augmented reality abilities first released into iOS 11, ARKit, along with the iPhone X tend to be far more refined and easy to customize from iOS 12 and the Iphone Xs. The smart assistant is a much better listener than ever, and getting smarter. Her address is much more conversational and she is requesting follow-up queries. Siri can also be more proactive, putting connections between benign items such as locations and schedules and offering them beforehand. There are also a number of third party programs tapping into Siri, allowing you to use only your voice to access program features and data without even launching the app. You can set up iOS 12 on your older Iphone (down into this iPhone 5s), however not all of attributes, particularly those involving AR, will operate on the older devices. Still, I clearly advise the upgrade with anyone operating an Iphone 7 and up. It is simply a much better, more polished, educated, and smart user experience also, to be fair, I have hardly scratched the surface of all of the updates and feature improvements you'll find. Apple claims 30 minutes more battery life involving the iPhone X and Xs and 90 minutes more with the Iphone Xs Max. In my experience, either new phone might get you through the majority of the afternoon on a single charge. I spent one day using only the iPhone Xs Max. I retained the brightness high and ran all types of programs and procedures. It lasted a strong 10 hours. Perhaps a tiny bit less than I expected, but still enough for me through the majority of the working day. In all honesty, with less than a week under my belt, it is difficult to give a full assessment of battery performance. There are so many variables and, obviously, battery life will be good on new mobile phones. Talk to me in 6 months or one year, and we're going to see if I am still satisfied with battery life. It is not strange that Apple did not bring down the cost for the brand new $999 iPhone Xs (or hold onto the original model and market it at a lower price). I'm not even shocked that we finally have a nearly $1,100 version or that we're able to cover a whopping $1,449 for the 512 GB iPhone Xs Max (which happens to be the version that I tested). Apple's already proven that individuals will pay almost anything to get their hands on the latest iPhone. Is $1,000 or more to cover a mobile phone? Perhaps, however many people think about the entire cost instead of monthly payments? I am, however, a little annoyed that Apple stopped the lightning -to-3.5 mm adapter. It's as if, in the last 12 months, we've gotten rid of our audio and Bose headsets, such as it is a solved issue. Memo to Apple: It is not. What I will say is that these are the iPhones you desire. The iPhone Xs does not mess with that which I consider a traditional layout, and also the Xs Max simply takes all that's amazing about the iPhone X and expands it. As a set, they are just as beautiful as the original home-button-free Iphone X. The plan looks especially elegant in a gold finish. Photographers will love the new camera, and gamers and content consumers will want the big-screen iPhone Xs Max. Even if you own the iPhone X, I still wouldn't upgrade unless you absolutely need more realistic augmented reality and full depth control on your portraits. For iPhone 6s, 7, 8, as well as 8 Plus owners, the iPhone Xs and Xs Max is going to feel as a massive leap to the foreseeable future.

[earthlyambition]

The intentions with this post have been circling in my brain for days. But now that i'm actually getting the chance to write, i feel at a loss for words.

My need for activism surrounding animals has been at full force lately. I have seen all of the debates, watched all the documentaries, and read all the books regarding the injustice and specism around non human animals. I finally felt ready to take my activism into my own hands, and visited my first dairy farm. With this being said, I had never announced that I was an animal rights activist. None of the employees or other guests on the farm knew my intentions. And to be quite honest, neither did i. I knew that i was going to do whatever i could to keep my cool to bear witness to these beautiful animals. But what i didn't know, was how my emotions were going to play a part in that. I have always been a pretty emotional being, and i was trying my hardest to not let that get the best of me and cause a scene. I knew that nobody there would listen to the extent i was wanting, so in a sense i felt hopeless. I did learn something while on this farm. I learned that even the most “humane” farm has awful brutal conditions for these animals.

This farm was an hour away. I went alone, which meant on the drive down, I had plenty of time to mentally prepare for what I was going to witness. I had this thought in the back of my mind that for some reason, “maybe it won't be as bad as i think it's going to be”. After all, the milk bottles always seem to talk about “ happy cows” and cartoonized them into “loving to provide” for human consumption.

Arriving at the farm, I instantly felt my nerves take over. I walked in with a shaky voice into the lobby, and waited to be taken to the “ milking room” by the farmer on site. My group and I walked down a long narrow hallway that soon was greeted by an overwhelming smell of rotten food, feces and manure. Once we made it to the milking room, i was shocked. I couldn't believe that this small room was used to milk over 400 cows, daily. They had several cows crowded and crammed into this room. The cows tried to back away any chance they could get, but couldn't because they were so confined in between metal rods and surrounded by other cows. There was one cow in particular that caught my eye. She had her head rested on a bar that held her close by. She looked exhausted, from being constantly bred and milked her whole life. This broke me. Every wall I had built up leading to this moment brought me back to square one. I felt vulnerable and to be honest, quite embarrassed. But more than anything, i was angry. Angry that everyone around me saw this as normal. I felt like the only one in the room that saw the situation from the victims perspective. I tried to reason with the rest of the group and see it as a necessity, but its too hard to look at it that way when there are so many alternatives that don't cause suffering. I quickly calmed down and realized I was here for the animals, and my motivation shot back up.

After the milking room, we were taken next to the line of cows leading up to the milkroom. We were told that there would be baby calves for us to “pet” and for anyone to get the chance to “milk a cow” for the first time. It broke my heart to watch this sweet mama be touched and pulled at by random strangers, while her baby sat across the room pinned up. Her baby had been taken hours after he was born, and would soon be sent to slaughter, because he wasn't born for the means to be milked someday.

I spoke with many employees that day. I asked questions, made comments, and expressed my concerns regarding the wellbeing of these animals. I forced them to answer questions regarding artificial insemination, slaughterhouse send offs, and touchy subjects about the whole process of taking the babies from their mom. These workers seemed happy to do their job. It seemed so normal to them, that when someone asked these questions, it took them by surprise. I asked an employee if he ever felt upset or saddened when the cows were sent off to slaughter and he shrugged and said “well, when they stop producing enough milk, there isn't much we can do”.

The owner of the company shared that he can “get the cows to do whatever he wants them to do”. Despite the “happy cow” persona, these cows were being held and forced against their will, and I can assure you that they were not happy during the process. 

While they offered cheese and milk samples, I snuck off of the tracks of the tour and went behind the farm. I saw hundreds of day/week/month old baby calves, locked up in what seemed to be small dog houses. Every single one was trying to run and jump in the small space they were “provided”. I couldn't help but cry to these babies. The world let them down. They needed their mother. But, the dairy industry took their mothers from them, for societies cereal and coffee. Before long they will be put into this industry for about 3 years until they are sent to be slaughtered.

This experience was a start to a long journey for me. I am learning more and more every day about how to help educate those around me, and how to better myself. Being an empath and a vegan has been a very narrow road for me. I often become angry, and sad simply because its difficult to have such a small voice in a big world. I often wish it was easier to reveal these industries to those i care about, but everyone having their own choice plays too large of a role for me to intervene. If there's anything i've learned at the beginning of this journey, it is to be gentle with myself. It can sometimes be hard to come to the conclusion that I live in a not yet vegan world. I have learned to listen more intently. and sometimes, it may seem as though someone is being ignorant, but their views just differ from mine. Ive learned patience and so much perseverance in this process and how passion is beautiful. 

[addie-bear]

@vindication-thy-name-is-dwight

Addie sincerely had no idea why Dwicky would want to talk to her. She figured he’d take her up on her offer to never talk to her ever again. Apparently not. However, perhaps that meant this was just that important.

She found the old man in his lounge, staring out at the large window. She rolled her eyes. She’d give him one thing: the asshat knew how to be fucking dramatic. “Are you really doing the whole brooding while staring out a window thing?”

Dwight looked up when the door opened. There was a very ingrained part of him that didn’t want to have this conversation. He’d even debated on if it was necessary, since the admiral had mentioned she’d basically know his every move for the rest of his life. However, he needed as many people on this as he could. Johnny, thankfully, had a powerful family. And, well, this was also his best bet of getting the information to Johnny’s husband without risking getting into a fist fight.

He rolled his eyes at her comment. “Very funny, Admiral.” He let out a sigh. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Addie shrugged. “As long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself, we won’t have an issue.” Perhaps that was a little mean, but even if she was giving him a shot to prove he could be something more than a creepy bastard, she was not about to let him forget his long list of transgressions easily.

Dwight flinched. He had nothing to say to that. He had been...an absolute creep. An apology stood at the tip of his tongue but he didn’t say it. No matter how sincere and drawn out it would be, it would always sound cheap, always fall short of the mark.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll get right to the point, Admiral. I’m sure you noticed the heavy increase in security around my base. I feel the need to explain to you why that is. Unless you already know?” A fair question. He idly shifted the leg his anklet was on.

Addie raised a brow. She’d noticed many things as of late. First of all was how Dwight hardly ever wore his battle armor, where before he’d been wearing it every time she (unfortunately) saw him. His voice was...less cold, seeming more real. He’d also been referring to her by her proper title for quite some time now.

 She felt herself start to shake a little bit. This scenario was starting to feel far too familiar. “I’ve noticed. However, I’m afraid I’m at a loss as to why the sudden increase. Don’t get me wrong. I do check in on you from time to time. But I’m not watching you every minute of every day. I have my own life, you know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t even think of taking that as an invitation to start doing fucked up shit again.”

Dwight huffed. Adalet was an enigma. One minute she was speaking with the finesse fit for her royal blood, and then the next she was swearing like a damn space pirate. There was a part of him that wanted to find that kind of duality endearing, but he ignored it. He wasn’t allowed to admire her in any facet.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he told her. He walked over to his mini-bar and poured himself a glass of bourbon. Maybe that would help make him feel a little less awkward about this. “Care for a drink?” Wait why was he asking that? Was she even old enough to drink?

Addie frowned. “No thank you,” she told him, folding her arms. “You said you were going to get straight to the point. Mind doing that?”

Dwight took a sip of his drink before swirling it around for a moment. He looked back out the window at the dark blanket of space. At the moment it seemed so much more...foreboding. Like every twinkling star was warning about all the dangers to come. “Of course. My apologies.” He pivoted to look back at Adalet. “The reason I have increased security is due to your uncle. I received some disturbing messages recently that leave me with no doubt that someone might be after him.”

Addie blinked once. Then twice. “You do know you have two of my uncles in your care, right? Both who have gotten in more trouble than anyone else I know combined? Including me. And that’s saying something.”

Dwight gave her an unamused look. He often forgot that she also referred to Dib as uncle as well. That family was so strange and complicated. “Johnny.” He clarified. He noticed far too late the softness in his voice when he said the name.

Addie rose a brow and gave a thoughtful hum. She knew very little about her Uncle Johnny’s past, but she knew enough to know that he’d been to hell and back. Literally. However, as far as she knew, it had been quite some time since he had been in any sort of trouble. In fact, for a while there, he was mostly getting her and Chance out of trouble instead of the other way around. “What did they say?”

“Just the usual pretentious villain nonsense,” Dwight answered. “Called him an ‘it’ a few times which most definitely did not sit well with me. I have my theories as to who it could be, but I don’t want to jump the gun and have ourselves caught in a trap.* He swirled his drink again before taking another sip. “This one is…dangerous. They’re a person of mind games and manipulation. In other words...the tables have turned so to speak.”

Addie watched him carefully as he spoke. She hasn’t missed a single beat of his tone. How it softened at her uncle’s name. How it tightened and turned into a near growl as he talked about the person that was coming after him. She tilted her head, deep in thought, before something finally dawned on her. The security. The visits. The fucking blazer. A slow, Cheshire Cat like grin appeared on her face.

“Well, well, well,” Addie said teasingly. “It appears the big, bad dictator has a soft spot, after all. Most especially for former serial killers, methinks.” She nearly laughed at the absolutely exasperated look Dwight gave her. Not even her father’s most long suffering frowns compared to this.

“It is not what you think,” Dwight told her firmly. Regardless of...whatever it really was, he was quite certain it wasn’t the same as what he felt for Leera. It was strong...just...different.

“You don’t even know what I think it is,” Addie replied dismissively. “Honestly this must be what the town of Whoville felt when they saw that the Grinch had changed his ways. Except, you know, the Grinch never tried to murder anyone.”

Dwight pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you done?”

“Hardly. But I’ll save all my high sodium content for another time.” She stepped a little closer to him, looking out at the stars. Even after all this time, after living in space for almost her entire life, it still continued to fascinate her.

“In Lazurothian culture, we believe in something called an Isteo,” she explained, not looking at Dwight at all. “It’s someone who you share an extremely strong bond with. They’re your other half, the other side of the coin. Someone who without, you always feel like something in your life is missing. The word translates very, very roughly to mean platonic soulmate.”

Dwight rose a brow at her. “Except neither I nor your uncle are Lazurothian.”

“Well, Uncle Johnny does have the hair now,” she quipped. “You don’t have to be Lazurothian to have an Isteo. It’s just a Lazurothian belief. Look at Chance and Dibkins. They’re both human and, hell, they’re probably the perfect example of Isteos with how affectionate they are.” Her expression suddenly became very sad, remembering another Dib who she would never see again. “Dad had one, too. Not that he ever used that word.” She rubbed her arm, specifically the spot where a tattoo of a dark blue paw print laid.

“Anyway, what do you need from me?” She never thought she’d be asking that of Dwight Dwicky, but here she was.

Dwight listened to her carefully. He still didn’t quite get it, but the term sounded...fairly accurate. Johnny had become very important to him, and considering everything he was doing to make sure the smaller man stayed safe and alive…

“I mostly just needed you to know, to be prepared should anything start to seem awry.” He paused to clear his throat. “I...also wouldn’t mind some help setting up more blocks on my computers and such. I have installed a few of my own but…” He trails off. He really doesn’t want to say it. Especially when he sees that smirk on Adalet’s face.

“You mean you need one of the best hackers in the galaxy to keep you from being hacked,” she asked smugly. “Don’t worry, Dwight. I only come from an entire family of super talented hackers and have been hacking databases since I could sit up on my own. I’m sure it will be just fine.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“And you’re a dick.”

Dwight was torn between snorting and screaming. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to see why so many people were drawn to this brat. “So is that a yes or?”

“That would be a yes. Just remember that none of this is for you, got it?” Addie told him with a growl.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.” He didn’t need it to be for him. Johnny was what mattered right now. At this point he would get on his knees and beg for some kind of assistance.

“I have one more request,” he said, downing the last of his bourbon in a large gulp.

“And that would be?” Addie asked curiously.

Dwight sighed. This was going to be annoying. “If you don’t mind, I need someone to send the message to Johnny’s husband. They both seem to adore you. I would do it myself, but the last time we interacted I’m pretty sure he would have punched me if your mother didn’t kick us out.”

Addie nodded. “Not surprising. He’s protective of what he cares about.” She grinned again. “Starting to realize how scary my uncles are, Dwicky?”

“That’s not what this is about. I would just rather he actually absorb the information instead of wanting to slam my skull into the nearest flat surface,” Dwight explained. “I am more likely to be afraid of you than I am to be afraid of any of the rest of your family.”

“Oh my. The great former High Chancellor, scared of a little old me.”

Dwight rolled his eyes. “To be fair, you managed to not only fool me pretty much completely, but you also tore down everything I built in a matter of an hour. Anyone with sense would be terrified of that kind of potential.”

“...Okay wait a second is that genuine compliment?” Addie was sincerely floored that he would admit to something like that.

“Don’t get used to it,” Dwight told her.

Addie snorted, deciding it was time to make her exit. “I actually planned to pay my other uncle a visit anyway. So I’ll be sure to deliver your message then.” After I figure out why the fuck he hasn’t been to visit his husband in a hot minute.

Dwight nodded “Thank you, Admiral.” Perhaps the strangest thing about thanking her for anything was realizing that he means it.

He suddenly got the urge to say something else, taking a deep breath. “By the way, Admiral. I am...sincerely sorry for your loss.”

Addie froze on her way out. Her hands clenched and unclenched over and over. A couple of multicolored sparks flickered from her fingers. She knew how much Dwicky hated that part of her family, especially her Uncle Red.

And yet she couldn’t deny the fucking sincerity in his tone.

“You, too,” was all she said as she exited the room. What she meant was left unspoken. It didn’t need to be said.

Dwight swallowed at her response but didn’t turn around, continuing to stare out the window. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly, burying his hand not holding his empty glass in his pocket. He glared out at the cosmos.

If I can’t stop you, you can rest assured that no matter what you do, you will not get past her.

[sunflowerspectre]

Divine | Lucifer x Twilight Crossover | Chapter One

Fanfiction | A03

Previous | Next

Slow Burn | Carlisle Cullen x OC

Chapter One: A Soft Light

She could’ve flown in, quite literally, but she’s always preferred her feet planted on the ground. It’s why she loves the motorcycle gifted to her from her brother. She can feel the howling wind against her, plant her feet on the earth when she stops, and is unconfined by metal and oil.

She takes the scenic route to Forks, avoiding the highways full of loud noises and the smell of smoke as much as she can. She takes her time appreciating each mountain she passes and every deer that crosses.

Forks is just as isolated as she hoped it would be. The towering trees that hide smaller houses and buildings are a breath of fresh air that she savors. She can feel the energy around her - a grainy, earthy feeling filled with growth and positivity. It vibrates through her bones and when she breathes deeply, she realizes just how much she’s missed it. The trees’ thick trunks tell her that they’ve been undisturbed for a long time and the greenery are vibrant, full of life.

The city may be Lucifer’s new home, but this is going to be hers.

Welcome To Forks - the sign is partially hidden on the side of the road, covered with overgrown bushes, but it still takes her a cool minute before she officially reaches any civilization. When her eyes meet the first building in her path, that happiness dwindles at the reminder that, as undisturbed as most of the forest is, there are people  here. She forces herself to breathe through it and remind herself that that passing, fleeting sensation of disappointment at the sight of people is exactly why she is here in the first place.

Her time with Lucifer, and by extent the others, including a particular detective, has taught her many things. Aside from basic human interaction, her brother’s friends - the human family he’s made here - showed her that there is at least hope in the dark pit of humanity. She hopes that she can expand on that feeling, nourish it and care for the side of her father’s creation that she’s neglected and punished for so long.

She can feel people’s eyes on her as she passes through the town - she should have expected this. This isn’t a big city that is full of so many people that no one notices who comes and goes. Small towns mean a small community with few visitors and travelers. She tries her best to let the looks roll of her back as she continues through the streets. She takes notes of what’s around, specifically the sign that tells her which way the hospital is, but continues straight through the town until she eventually the streets gets smaller and she turns onto a dirt road.

If not for Lucifer’s funds, she would have been perfectly fine building her own little home from hand. She’s done it plenty of times before - it’s a modest, but suiting way to live in the middle of the forest. Lucifer, however, was appalled by the mere suggestion and was quick to find a place to buy for her. She insisted that if he was going to do that, to at least not get anything fancy and to get something that is a bit further from town, as in the middle of the forest as he can get. The more privacy the better.

He never showed her the pictures. She really should have asked him to. When she pulls up to the address, which at least is as secluded and private as she requested, she’s met with a house that rivals Lucifer’s own penthouse. With a groan, she pulls up and parks at the end of a long and wide paved driveway to a two story, modern architecture home. She carries her helmet under one arm - unneeded as it was, she doesn’t share her brother’s ‘openness’ and ‘honesty’ and firmly believes in upkeeping her human appearance - and already has her phone in the other as she makes her way to the door.

She puts the phone between her shoulder and ear as she digs the key out of her pocket.

“Ariel! Missed me so soon?”

She snorts, “ Tell me, Luci, when you insisted on picking out a house for me, what part of modest did you not quite understand?”

“None of it. You deserve the best, sister, so that is precisely what I got you. You’d be surprised at how hard it was to find anything expensive, modern and private in that little area of yours.  Very few new houses. I imagine most of the humans that live there never leave.”

“No shit, Luci, it’s a small town. I’m surprised you even found something like this here.”

The inside of the home, at least, a bit more humble with minimal furniture, leaving the floor open and wide. She eyes the many plants lining the entire area, in a way that only a professional decorator could, with pleasant surprise. She’s not as pleased with the full bar in the kitchen, but the fresh herbs lining the kitchen’s window and the organic food in the fridge more than makes up for it. Not many people would realize it, but Lucifer does pay attention to the little things.  

“That’s precisely my point. There was only one other one similar to this that was available, but it was bought a few years ago before I could make my offer. Pity too, it was much larger than that one.”

Pity isn’t the word she would use. The house is too large for her as it is, but she supposes it is more pleasant if people were to visit - people, she quickly corrects, such as her family. She could easily picture some of the more open areas being filled with Charlie’s play things and maybe she can dedicate a whole wall to Trixie’s art.

“Trust me, Luci, this is more than big enough, how many beds?”

“OH! That’s the best part. Six bedrooms so it’s perfect if the detect - Chloe - and I visit with the little urchin. Charlie and Linda and Amenadiel would be happy too, I suppose, but even with all of us staying there, you’d have plenty of free space for any orgies or parties. “

She doesn’t bother mentioning that she has no intention of either of those things, knowing it would fall to deaf ears. She quickly mutters her appreciation and ends the call, knowing that she has quite a bit of exploring to do.

She’s pleased to find that each room has its own amount of plants and flowers, and that aside from basic essentials such as beds, nightstands, and dressers, a majority of the bedrooms are empty. There is one that was more clearly decorated with Trixie in mind, something that she finds endearing that Lucifer thought that they would be coming over often enough to justify it.  Two of the bedrooms conjoin and she can easily see them becoming Amenadiel and Linda’s room connecting with Charlie’s, once he is older. She tries not to dwell on how easily she can see everyone living in that space and instead reminds herself that their homes are in LA; this would be only for visits. All the space that could easily be filled with her family will likely be empty a majority of the time. The realization leaves her a bit hollow.

She’s not as pleased about the largest bedroom being one that her brother very clearly decorated himself - it being a very clear sex dungeon than a proper bedroom. It still retains some amount of classiness, with at least a leather hide rug. An intricately built sex swing is off to one side while a cage hanging from the ceiling is at the other. The bed is large and has small chains hanging from its frame. The closet is full of brand new lingerie and costumes, that she’s frightened to find are in her size. There is a whole shelf of dildos and strap on in clear view on one wall. She quickly shuts the door and knows that in the future, that door is going to be very tightly under lock and key. She supposes that if Mazikeen and perhaps even Eve visits, then they’ll be happy to stay there.

The last bedroom Lucifer clearly kept for her. The large open windows overlooking the treeline, the neatly organized and placed plants, and the large, flowery bedspread all scream of her own aesthetic. There’s a satin canopy over the bed that while is a bit out of her tastes, goes well with the soft colors of the room and compliments the vibrant green color of the plants hanging around it. The whole room is in a soft, natural light with warm, pale colors that go well with the greenery. She rolls her eyes at the clothes in the closet, all in her size, but all clearly brand new with the price tags still attached and a majority being too fancy or revealing for her tastes. She makes a mental note to go shopping for her own clothes later, but wonders if it’s too heartless to toss all those new garments.

There are a couple of boxes, shipped from LA, of personal belongings in the corner - both are small. The fact that there are only two boxes and a closet full of only brand new clothes tell her that Lucifer most definitely just threw out her old clothes instead of shipping them like she asked. A quick look into the boxes tells her that at least the most important of her belongings have made it - personal pictures, including recent ones, and a few misc. Sentimental items, things she’s collected over the eons.

She wanders back downstairs, wondering if she should head to the hospital. Her first day isn’t until tomorrow, but at least she could scope it out. However, she’s barely down the stairs when the doorbell rings.

#

The Cullen house is quiet. While the weekend usually means freedom, fun, or even parties for most high schoolers - they are not most high schoolers. The weekend brings silence, boredom, routine. There’s nothing that they haven’t done before and while the clouds are cloudy, there are few places for them to go or things to do. The next thunderstorm isn’t due until tomorrow, so it’s only a matter of waiting until their next game.

Emmet is one of the only ones who are genuinely enjoying the weekend, happily shouting at the screen of the TV as he plays the latest version of his favorite video game. Rosalie is not as pleased by this, but settles on the couch beside him in a huff as she does her nails. After a few choice words and fights, Emmet is careful not to nudge her, lest she get her nail polish everywhere.

Carlisle is busy at work, Edward is the one to inform them that Carlisle is busy trying to calm an ongoing gossip about a new nurse; something that while confirmed to be true, is driving their ‘father’ up the wall due to the chaos of the other nurses’ drama around the subject. Currently, the quietest sibling settles nearby with a book. Emmet is the one to tease him lightly about the fact that ‘he’s actually joining us for once’ and ‘not running to brood in his room alone.’ The teasing stops when Edward almost leaves due to it.

Jasper is fresh from a hunt, eyes burning yellow, as he greets his wife. She presses a quick kiss to his lips and opens her mouth to say something, but stops short as her body tenses. Alice doesn’t blink - she stares off into space, her body unmoving before she finally seems to come back to the present. She grins wildly, jumping a bit in excitement as she claps her hands. Jasper watches her with mild amusement, her excitement rolling off him like waves. Her light pushes on his shoulders as she jumps does nothing to move him.

“Someone moved into that house next door! We have a neighbor! They should be here by now! We should go say hi!”

This grabs everyone’s attention in various degrees. Edward immediately furrows his brows, worrying rising in his chest at the idea of the house - a place that’s sat empty for as long as they’ve owned this house due to it being out of many of Forks’ residents budget and Forks not being a place that people who can afford it go to - actually being occupied. Granted, their houses are at least a mile away from each other, it’s still too close for comfort. Who knows what type of person moved in there? A hiker who may catch them hunting? A conspiracy theorist who may piece together what they are? It could threaten their existence either way.

Emmet pauses his game at her announcement, looking over the back of the couch toward her, “Neighbors? Really? Are they hot?”

Alice rambles on how she didn’t actually ‘see’ what they looked like, she just saw someone on a bike going to the house, but that it was a bit blurry and strange.

The vision plays in her mind, allowing Edward to watch along with her. He can see what seems to be a woman, her face obscured by a helmet with long, red-blonde hair that sweeps out from the back of the helmet and down her back. However, the air around her seems disoriented, brighter than the area around her as if there’s a second source of light close to her that they can’t see. It pulses, but even as she drives up to the house, it never falters and always follows her as if she is the one causing the distortion and light. The light glares brightly when she takes off her helmet, blinding the vision completely before it ends.

Rosalie flicks nail polish on Emmet for his comment, oblivious to Edward’s inner turmoil, causing him to shout as it spills onto his controller. As the two bicker on in the background, Edward sighs as he glances over his book toward his ‘sister.’

“We’re not going to go say hi Alice,” Edward finally speaks, his voice firm on the subject.

She pouts, “Why not?”

“Do you really want to bring us to their attention? The house isn’t too far from us, if they start to suspect something, it’d be too easy for them to spy on us. Who knows what she is or what she’s involved in for it be that blurry? She could be with the wolves for all we know.”

Emmett scoffs at that comment, muttering about how no one involved with the wolves would be on their side of the treaty line anyway.

Alice waves off the concern, “All the more reason to check her out! Besides, it’s only polite that we go say hi, even Carlisle would agree with me.  Oh! I should bring them something, but we don’t have any food here…”

She trails off, mumbling about what she could possibly take over as a welcoming gift, ignoring Edward’s constant protest and voiced worries. Jasper does his best to reach out toward Edward, hoping that he could calm him down. Yet at the sudden change of emotion, Edward glares at him before retreating his room with his book.

#

Alice’s eyes sparkle as she drives up the curved driveway to the neighbor’s house. It’s not too  different than the last she saw it - granted the last she saw it was during an open house when she couldn’t resist ‘just looking.’ It’s a new home, recently built, she remembers the stir it caused in town - most people not understanding why the realtors were building such a home in Forks, but she can’t help but feel it was partially due to her coven’s own home raising the value of the area. Carlisle almost bought it as a second house in case they needed it, but someone else swooped it up quick - presumably the owner of the electric Harley Davidson motorbike.

She recognizes the bike from her vision and a large grin stretches across her face as she gracefully hops out of her car and nearly skips all the way to the door, clutching her welcoming gift close to her chest. Considering she hasn’t had a vision of the woman reacting to the gift, she hopes that their neighbor will like it.

She hums as she knocks on the door,  swaying gently. Her family’s concerns echo in her mind, Edward not being the only one who spoke out after the others realized she was quite serious about coming to greet their neighbor. Rosalie had more than a few words to say on the subject with Emmett mirroring her words. Jasper seemed worried, but he supported her as much as he could once he realized that she was set on coming by even if he couldn’t come over with her; considering the chances that their neighbor being another vegetarian nomadic vampire is low, they all eventually agreed on Alice going by herself if she really wanted to go. Her control being one of the strongest - Carlisle leading their coven with Rosalie being a close second, though she refused to come along - and her being more ‘approachable’, her chances of pissing off the new neighbor, or killing them, is fairly low.

Alice is quite sure that if this woman - who may not be alone, though she was the only one in the vision - was genuinely harmful than she would have had a vision about it by now. So, she waits while she hears footsteps treading toward the door. She can hear a steady, softer heartbeat on the other side of the door and it swings open, the scent of pine trees and flowers hits her. She takes in the woman’s clothing first, noting the dated bell bottoms and loose shirt that seem more suited for the 70s and hums a bit in disapproval.

However, she tenses when she realizes bares into the woman’s strikingly yellow, and oddly familiar, eyes. It’s not the tawny or bronze eyes of her coven, but a bright unearthly yellow that are more reminiscent of a cat’s eye striking in the light, a predator staring her down. Something about it stirs within her, making her shift, but the smile on her face doesn’t falter as she stands her ground with confidence. Her first thought is that maybe they were wrong about the chances of another vampire moving here, but she can still hear the soft heartbeat of the woman. The scent of her blood is fainter, hidden in the smell of pine, but it’s there.

Human.

Unlike the vision, Alice can’t see any visible light around the woman, but something about her still glows. As if she has a presence to her that Alice just can’t deny. A gift, maybe, but if that’s the case, Alice isn’t sure what it is.

“Can I help you?”

The woman’s voice is smooth and pleasing, though not as melodic as their own. Alice nearly hops with excitement as she passes over the small potted plant to the woman.

“I’m Alice, my family and I live next door and I wanted to give you something as a welcoming present as our new neighbor!”

The woman’s expression softens as she examines the gift, her eyes losing that hostile gleam and becoming more welcoming as she steps aside and gestures for Alice to come in.

“Ariel Sera,” Ariel’s footsteps are as soft and graceful as Alice’s own, “Thank you for the rudbeckia. Once the clouds clear and it gets warmer, it’ll be nice to see some butterflies around.”

The woman’s apparent knowledge of the flower isn’t too surprising as Alice looks around the inside of the home. Most, if not all, of the furniture that was there during the open house has been replaced with softer furniture that creates a more cozier atmosphere, but there are many plants strategically placed around the room, making it nearly as green inside as it outside.

“Do you think the flower will last that long? We have quite a long way until it gets any warmer here, but I’m glad you like it! I was going to cook something, but I wasn’t sure what you would like or if you would be allergic to anything.”

Alice’s eyes continue to roam around the room. It’s a breath of fresh air, with a homey, permanent feeling to it that’s, sadly, missed from her own home. As much as she loves her coven, their house is, in a way, staged. Fake. Made to look normal and used, but lacks personal touches that come from living in a space, or planning to, for a long time. She turns vibrantly, eager to talk more, but stops short as another vision overtakes her mind.

Ariel stands in the middle of the Cullen’s living room, silent, as she leans against Carlisle’s side.  She looks worried, her brows furrowed. Her eyes are hooded, tired, and seem somehow older. Carlisle looks to her with a soft gaze and his arm moves to wrap around her, clutching her hip. He presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, almost as if he’s making an unspoken promise to her, and the creases in her face relax.

Something about Ariel seems different in this vision - she seems older, different. Like the other vision, there’s a light that seems to surround her, but even the light is different. Instead of being a harsh, more bright light that seems to be burning hard with a sense of wildness, this time, she’s coated with a warmer, softer light that frames around her and vibrates with a sense of home.

Alice’s grin grows, her eyes glowing with excitement; she may not know when or how, but something inside of her tells her that this is a vision that is sure to come.

[avengers-nextgen]

The Aftermath XII

Fox didn’t know how he managed to find her number, but the messages popped up one evening in a brilliant blue. They seemed harmless, a small hello, a question or two, and though she left him unanswered she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was racing. How’d he manage to contact her? Why was he bothering to? What did he want? Was he in trouble? Did he need something? Why should she care? Why should she even be giving him a thought? Why, was the common theme, and all she could do was worry herself to sleep.

Waking the next morning she hoped it was just a bad dream but those blue messages were still present on the screen of her phone. The one Maria had given her. The one she thought was safe from old contacts and people she didn’t want to hear from ever again, but there he was. It was unmistakably him and she hated it. She couldn’t understand how he managed to sneak into every aspect of her private life like a slow moving plague.

After a moment of pain staking contemplation she replied with a calloused dismissal of his questions. She made it clear she wasn’t going to talk to him. That she wanted nothing to do with him, but Vincent was persistent as always. It had been a gift and a curse of his.

‘Want to have lunch today? For old time’s sake?’ He asked.

‘No. I’m not doing anything with you. Now stop texting me and delete my number.’

‘Please? I’ll pay.’

‘No.’

‘Listen, if you’re mad because I ruined that date of yours I’m sorry. Consider this a way of me making up for that. I didn’t mean to bring up the past.’

‘You are the past, Vincent. You know very well how we parted. I don’t intend to reconcile- now fuck off.’ With a frown, Fox ignored the buzzing of her phone and dressed for the day. She had things to do. Maria would be counting on her to lead a team of others on internet surveillance and stealth hacking. She couldn’t be distracted.

Still, she found herself mildly put off by the knowledge that Vincent had tried to apologize. He didn’t normally bother with apologies, but Fox reminded herself that it was most likely for show. He was good at that. Fooling people with words and outward appearances. She had fallen for it after all.

“Hey,” Maria leaned over the top of Fox’s computer screen, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” came the hurried reply.

“You seem upset,” Maria pressed carefully, “if you need me let me know. I can set time aside for you, always.”

“I know,” Fox nodded, sparing Maria a faint smile. She didn’t mean to ignore her, Maria was wonderful and Fox truly did love her, but this wasn’t something Maria knew much on and Fox didn’t feel like explaining. It would take too much time and energy for both of them. So, she left it be and pressed on for the day.

Upon her lunch break, she tugged the damned phone from her pocket to stare haughtily at Vincent’s string of texts.

‘Like what you’ve done with the old bar. Very modern,’ and ‘thought you would take over and spice this place up. Nice I get to see the result. You have good taste.’

“Heyo,” James called, bounding into the kitchen with Alex hot on his tail. Both rummaged through the fridge practically wrestling for something inside. “Yes! I got the lost one!”

“No fair!” Alex frowned.

“I’m oldest so it is fair,” James teased, holding up a small brownie and popping it into his mouth with a satisfied smile.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Alex huffed, grudgingly looking for some other snack to be had.

“How’s the day been?” James asked, sitting in the seat across from Fox. He kept his hands clasped on the table but his leg bounced beneath the slab of wood.

“Alright,” Fox managed.

“Just alright?” James arched a brow. “No exciting security breeches to defend against? No weirdos you have to shut down the internet for?”

“No,” Fox smiled, shaking her head.

“Maria said you were distracted. If it’s about the fact that Piper told you Lobsters were long crabs I apologize,” James remarked, his lips twitching in amusement, “but it is a pretty mind numbing realization.”

“It’s not Piper,” Fox sighed, before grudgingly passing her phone over. James looked at it briefly skimming over the messages. His features hardened.

“Why won’t he leave you be?”

“I don’t know,” Fox shrugged, “but I’m getting frustrated. I don’t know what he wants from me. If it’s to settle what-“

“He shouldn’t want anything from you. He should respect you,” James frowned. “If he keeps this up I can intervene-“

“No,” Fox warned, “it’ll only make it worse. He wants a fight. That’s how he works, James.”

“Well,” James sighed, “if you need me you can talk to me. Even if it’s just to vent, but don’t let him get to you. Try and use some of your tech magic to get him out of your contacts.”

“Thanks,” Fox smiled, “I’ll try. And don’t worry Maria over this. She always has a lot on her plate and I don’t want to make it worse.”

“You know she won’t mind. She cares about you.”

“I know,” Fox promised, “but it’s hard enough getting you involved. I like handling things myself. I’m not used to relying on other people so this is different for me.”

“Okay,” James nodded, hesitantly taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Sometimes Fox was reminded just how afraid he was to touch her, and while it was charming that he cared so much it was also disheartening. He shouldn’t be afraid. It wasn’t his fault for any of this.

She watched him go for a moment before turning back to the screen of her phone. Chewing on her lip she went to delete the number but no sooner had she done that than a new message of his popped up.

‘You know where to find me if you want to talk.’

— — —

Walking briskly down the streets Fox found it impossible to suppress the ball of nerves in her stomach. She knew going to this place was risky, it always had been. She and Sage had found Max there and Killian too, and though Fox didn’t like Sage she knew that the witch had also spent her fair share of time with the wrong crowd of people kept hidden below New York streets.

Crossing a busy road, Fox slunk into an ally way and pulled up the familiar grate. Shimmying down the tight space she crept along a tunnel system that inevitably opened up into one giant chamber.

As always, music pulsed through the concrete, people in all sorts of clothes milled about, kids smoked and drank, some scantily dressed women were tucked away in cages like animals, small fires blazed in piles of trash, fights occurred in the corners, and the big bads of the underworld waltzed about their kingdom like gods.

Shivering, Fox tore her gaze away from the scenery and clung to the wall. Moving as not to be seen, she made her way to a side tunnel that opened into a small cavern. Here, built in bars and restaurants rested beneath dim lighting. How anyone managed to create such a thing she’d never know, but none of that mattered because she noticed the slender arm beckoning her over with a wave.

Chin raised, jaw set, and shoulders back, Fox approached Vincent’s seat. “I didn’t think you’d come miss Duran.”

“I’m not here on your terms. I’m here on mine,” Fox frowned, refusing to take the seat he offered. “You wanted me here for some reason of yours and now I am. So spill whatever you need to spill.”

Vincent sat in silence for some time studying her with his dark eyes. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Perhaps in appearance,” Fox remarked, “but I’m not the person I used to be.”

“Neither am I,” Vincent assured.

“I know.”

Tilting his head, Vincent leaned forward ever so slightly, “do you?”

“You stopped being the person I fell in love with ages ago. You were a great actor,” Fox sneered, “and I was naive but I’m not anymore. I know very well who you are. You can say you changed but I know that deep down you haven’t.”

“And what makes you say that?” Vincent bristled.

“The fact that you still refuse to leave me alone when I ask you to,” Fox noticed a muscle twitch in his jaw. “You were always good at ignoring what I had to say.”

“You wanted what I did or you would have protested,” He replied, tapping his knuckles on the table top.

“I did after the first time. I did for the following three but that didn’t matter. ‘It won’t hurt,’ you said, ‘the third time’s the easiest,’ or ‘don’t cry.’”

“Then why didn’t you leave?”

“I-“ Fox tried to find something to say but she didn’t have an answer. She’d asked herself that question for years and had never come up with a substantial answer.

“You needed me no matter how much you won’t admit it,” Vincent pressed his lips into a thin line, “and even now you know I’m right.”

“No,” Fox shook her head, “you’re not right. I didn’t need you. I don’t need you. I never needed you.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself of that,” Vincent mused, leaning forward on his elbows, “why else would you be here now?”

“Because I want to be here.”

“That’s even worse darling,” Vincent laughed, “but why?”

“I want you to know how I feel, and I what you to understand what you did to me,” she determined, finally taking a seat at the table. “So you’re going to listen.”

“You don’t make the rules in the games, remember? I start them and I finish them and you get to play. Like when we used to play pirates. You know that game, or maybe the magic one,” Vincent settled back in his chair.

“This isn’t a fantasy game. This isn’t some bullshit you get to use to distract me. I know better. I’ve learned.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, because even now I’m nothing more than a toy to you. Something to amuse you and distract you from the shitty life you have,” Fox’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“But you keep coming back,” Vincent countered. “For someone who has changed you’re oddly predictable.”

She ignored his remarks with difficulty, but Fox was determined not to give him satisfaction in her temper. “When was it that I became less than human to you?”

“Oh don’t start in with that-“

“Because you degraded me to someone you could take advantage of and throw away. I wasn’t even a physical attraction to you but something you could make do with because who else would give you the time of day?” Fox arched a brow. “When were you going to tell me you didn’t care anymore and why did you pretend you did to keep me around if you hated me so much?”

“Because, like you said, you were the only person to give me the time of day.”

“If you wanted attention there were other ways to get it. Better ways for both of us,” Fox insisted.

“I knew only one way. I grew up knowing only what was modeled for me-“

“Don’t you dare use that as a fucking excuse with me!” Fox’s words came out harsher than she meant them to, but she didn’t bother taking them back. “I had no better role models than you but I didn’t let that dictate my life. I chose this. I chose to be someone they weren’t because I would be damned if I turned into a monster like them. And you? You’re exactly the type of person you hate most-your parents.”

Vincent’s eyes smarted and his fists clenched upon the table top. “You always did talk too much.”

“No, I never talked enough, and that’s why you always had a say in my decisions,” Fox ignored the insult, “and you had no right to. You changed my life forever and acted like it wasn’t your fault at all. But it was. You had everything to do with-“

“If you’re blaming me for the kid’s death I had no say in it so don’t pin it on me-“

“You had no right to have a say in it. It’s my body, and this isn’t just about that. This is about everything, and I want you to know that you had everything to do with it. Just as much as I did,” Fox finished.

“That all you have to say?”

“No,” Fox smiled faintly, “one more thing.”

“Go on.”

“From here on out, you don’t get a say in my life ever again. So you can keep these,” Fox tossed him a few tattered photos she’d kept in her pocket, “and do what you will with them.”

“Yeah?” Vincent sneered, “and who are you gonna fill these empty spots with?”

“Someone better than you,” Fox shrugged, getting to her feet, “and someone I don’t have to be afraid of.”

— — —

“Missed dinner,” James noted, loading the dishwasher. “Did you eat something? If not there’s leftover-“

“I’m okay,” Fox interrupted, “do you mind maybe taking a picture with me?”

“Sure, but Alex messed my hair by spraying me with water!” James raised his voice loud enough for his sister to hear from the other room.

“That’s for eating the brownie!” Alex yelled back.

“I don’t care,” Fox insisted.

“If you say so,” James laughed. “What’re you gonna do with the photo?”

“Frame it and put it in Sage’s room,” Fox joked.

“In that case, let’s take multiple,” James grinned.

[whatscoolaccordingtodom]

July 2018

As winter nyasto settles into the Southern Hemisphere, I can’t help but think that maybe we’re doing something wrong and whoever has been in charge of the weather these past few years is mad. Our ancestors wore nothing but a bit of hide over their groins 365 days a year, my great-great grandfather never slept inside anything his whole life. They say on particularly cold nights, his family would come down from the hills to sleep around his fire, where he would sit there playing his mbira into the wee hours.

Umphako floated down to us on the 6thof July and I’ve been Mascandi through the streets ever since. The 4 track EP sees most of the songs go in different directions, but still make sense on the overall project. “Abangani” features label mates Emtee and Saudi, it’s definitely in the running for Squad Song of the Year. The “Confession” sample sounds like it was taken from an old hip-hop song, maybe a 50 Cent track and; the vocals though beautiful as they may be are overshadowed by the lyrics. I’m sure a few Zulu boys are convinced though. “Intombi” -also about a girl- talksis about all the lies she hears from interested suiters. The remaining is the hustle track, even the production is more upbeat than we’re used to from him. 2018 has been good to Sjava too, he came out from under the shadow of his labelmate and established himself as a serious contender with the Black Panther nod, BET award, and oh so Afrikan press run; this EP serves to show he’s still the guy who gave us favourites like “Before”. At least for now...

Strings and Blings is one half songs that can be bangers and the other is half is talking RnB. Nasty C’s on and off long-time girlfriend is kind of like the centerpiececentre piece, often finding herself being spoken to, of, from, about, and with; but he uses inconsistent angles. (Also, S/O to the girl who always sings on his songs but never gets credited). “No Respect” is my favourite offering on the project by far, it sounds like it was getting good, like he was about to rip at niggers, he’s about to start going in at the 1-minute mark then the just stops.; Tthe track ends 25 seconds later preventing what probably would’ve been a PR nightmare for him. “Jiggy Jigga”, “Givenchy”, “Strings and Bling” and “Gravy” are all easy plays in the club. We would like to thank Nasty for saying a Zulu word on “Blisters”. The whole album plays very well except for “My Baby”, that song is terribly cheesy; it sounds like every song by a boy band with a potty mouth lead singer. “SMA” is a standout from the other side, the dialogue verse’s add a layer to the rapper and Rowlene is just perfect. “Mrs Me” and “Everything” are the other emotionally heavy songs. “Casanova” cements just how much Nasty loves Metro Boomin and is perhaps the one track that doesn’t really fit into the 2 sides of album, it sounds emotional, but the lyrics really just aren’t.

A welcome addition to my favourite rappers in South Africa is Zakwe, he’s been around for a while but Cebisa is the first project by him I’ve listened to and honestly, it carries itself even without Sebentin. In true South African fashion, the remix is a who’s who of our rap elite but it’s all overshadowed by the obvious trade of bars by HHP and Cassper., Cass just seems to rub some people the wrong way, poor guy. At 20 songs, averaging well over 3 minutes each. The album is a long play but it’s well worth the listen, with a plethora of features to keep you entertained it plays like a Zakwe and friends playlist. The man himself has honed his sound, this nonchalant cross between hip-hop and kwaito is best described by the albums stand out line “Pac was Jesus, Zola wrote the Bible”. He isn’t stuck in old hip hop either, trap beats found themselves nestled in the playlist too.    

Future gave us Beast Mode 2 and I am satiated, but Atlanta spoils us (I have a theory about how it had a direct influence on how music is frequently now released), they understand that the streets need new music often. Jeffery needs to give us something more now since Hear No Evil was a while ago and it was 3 songs long. Future seems to be the only one of late who can get Young Thug into the studio too., Tthey did release Georgia, but a Thug feature was not on the cards for BM2 which really only has 2 features, both young artists who were given a wide berth to shine. People who say Future isn’t a lyricist need to take time out to listen to the first Beast Mode. On these albums over Zaytovens most almost gospel like production, he addresses a wide range of issues from his self-medicating drug problem, he checks himself trying to hold onto some sense of reality I think, but he makes it so that you have to listen to know what he’s saying. Being a workaholic -the man releases projects at an alarming rate- and the excess that seems to come with the life of having your “Racks Blue”, he talks about his anxieties both external and psychological. BM2 is the classic mix of Futures braggadocio and insecurities. It plays like one long thing the first time, but if you take the time to listen to what he’s saying you might realise why his spot amongst those at the top of rap is a non-debatable topic.

Unjayam uSliqe… this calling card annoyed me when I first heard it, but it’s kinda grown on me since then. I know I’m about to hear a hit when it plays. His sophomore album is a shining example of how hip-hop albums by DJ’s have evolved into their own league. Jam packed with features, feel good songs, and amazing production from the man himself, I don’t know if he just makes the beats and let’s people do their own thing or if he composes and directs each song, maybe he does a bit of both. The formula works, Navy Black is like a calm afternoon with your friends, most of the songs share a skeleton, so the vibe is carried well. “Biskop” is a fitting way to begin the album, it’s an ode to how the journey Sliqe, Kwesta and Makwa has transformed the artists’ lives since they started hustling, when is a Kwesta verse not welcome? Chiano Sky is the new naughty white girl, “Aunty” was nice, but “Girls Jungle” is a lot; the sample is so perfect and her lyrics are irreverent. Sy Ari saw Black Panther 5 times, I was going to discuss this but then I found out he’s American; him and AKA really came through for “Oh Well” though, Supa Mega talks like the big brother all young rappers have always wanted. I’m kind of torn between “Fully” (because we get to say FULLY a bunch of times), and “Town Talk”, it’s cool to see Wrecking Crew members make hits without their big gun. “Backyard” is the vibe of the album, and who better to call for a feature than Mr Hennessy, Tshego can sound like him featuring him with the different pitches he can sing at; it’s smooth and never overly emotional?

Gigi Lamayne, in her short time has built an enviable career finding her place in the league of our small handful of rappers. “VI” is a 6 track EP, her first since signing with Ambitious and it was built kind of like this version Maslow'sMaslows pyramid.; Tthe top is tiny and signifies the worst song as we descend into the album the sections get thicker until the bottom where we find “VI” waiting for us. The tape gets much better immediately with “Iphupho”, this song see’s the artist sing her truths about living in this concrete jungle while demanding to cash in on her dreams. “Roll” is dirtier, real trap shit reminiscent of “Beez in The Trap”. “Stimela” is fun, Gigi even gets in some good raps and punchlinespunch lines, a highlight being “I’m Gautrain, you Shosholoza”. “VI” is really easy listening, with a light sprinkling of zulu lines, the beats are catchy but maybe none more so than “Twinkle”; “Londie London” croons the memorable chorus and Gigi offers her most solid verses on the project. Until you hear the title track, she does the correct thing on the outro; no chorus, shit she barely lets it breathe until the last minute.

Ice Prince is an established name in Afrikan hip-hop and his confidence oozes out of his songs too. A few of them seem to be more about weed than anything else in particular and I’m okay with that. The albums opening track is a bass heavy banger, with the help of Jethro Faded, Ice-Prince “Shuts it Down”, which might be a weird way to start an album. Remy Baggins comes through for “Space Funk”, a Bruno Mars-y chorus with solid verses by Ice. “Hit Me Up” is the albums single, a typical South African trap track, PatricKxxLee & Straffitti help bring the head nods out. “‘Interlude”’ is his way of letting us know that this is the emotional track of the album and “Die For Your Love” does not disappoint, mans really promises to die for her love; but doesn’t miss the opportunity to mention weed again. I think I noticed all the weed references because of how frequently and prominently most of them are placed. “254” has one right in the chorus, but the verses are some of the most enjoyable on the whole album; they play like one long story. The uncredited singing bit at the end of “254″ is really nice, if that is Ice then kudos to him. “So High”, seriously, has Ice Prince always been this proud about his stoner ways? Anyways, “So High” is an anthem dedicated to just how high Ice Prince and Kay Switch get. By the sounds of it they use regular rizla and not Raw like Nasty C and Snoop Dogg, I might suggest switching to unbleached rizla if he really does smoke from Niger to Ghana. I mean, it’s an obvious metaphor for other kinds of highs too, success, girls, etc, but with the sound effects and lines like “puff puff pass, real nigger smoking that gas” the weed references might be all we get. “Watching You” is a simpler, way more vibey track where Ice Prince gets back onto his singing shit, helping keep the song as smooth as possible. The album closer is arguably the best, the production is really enjoyable, and he made sure to use easy to remember lyrics.

In The Faculty NEWS; on August 2, Human Error turned 19 and Tinayeishe Elisha Makoni better known by his stage name S.K.eye released his debut solo tape titled “Pseudology”. Please listen to it on Soundcloud @ https://soundcloud.com/tinayemakoni/sets/pseudology

Couldn’t leave without acknowledging Stay Dangerous and Astroworld, but that’s for later.

Beyonce and her husband are coming on the 2nd of December, but you have to earn a ticket. The only other ticket you work this hard to get in life is the one to Heaven, if you’re into that type of thing.

Edited by @NyraBlac

[johnboothus]

Next Round: How D.C.s Domestique Wine Is Creating an Inclusive Wine Culture

On this episode of “Next Round,” host Adam Teeter chats with Jeff Segal and Meri Lugo, owner and director of operations for Washington, D.C.’s Domestique Wines, respectively. Listeners will learn how Domestique differs from traditional wine shops in terms of its physical space and focus on natural wine. Like many wine shops, Domestique was affected by the pandemic; Segal and Lugo discuss how Domestique adapted to the ongoing situation the world is facing.

Domestique Wines recently launched a program called the Major Taylor Fellowship. The fellowship was designed to make the wine world more accessible for people of color. Often, people of color are shut out from opportunities in the wine world. Domestique Wines seeks to change this problematic culture, providing opportunities for those who have otherwise been ignored by the industry.

Tune in to learn how Domestique Wine is working toward an inclusive wine culture.

Listen Online

Listen on Apple Podcasts

Listen on Spotify

Or Check Out the Conversation Here

Adam Teeter: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter, and this is a “VinePair Podcast” “Next Round” conversation. We are bringing you these conversations between the regular roundtable discussions in order to give a better picture of what’s going on in the world of alcohol beverage. Today, I’m excited to be joined by Jeff Segal, the owner of Domestique Wine, and Meri Lugo, the director of operations of Domestique Wine. Jeff, Meri, thank you so much for joining me.

Jeff Segal: Thanks for having us.

Meri Lugo: Excited to be here.

A: Where does the world find you today, and can you tell us a little bit about Domestique?

J: Sure! Well, the world at the moment finds me hiding upstairs in one of my kids’ bedrooms with the hope that they will not come and interrupt this interview. So far, it seems to be working. I don’t know. Meri, where are you right now?

M: I am coming live to you from the basement of Domestique, perched atop some boxes. I am trying to lay low and find some peace and quiet among the phone calls and delivery orders that are happening upstairs.

A: Nice, so what is Domestique?

J: Domestique is a wine shop that focuses solely on selling natural wine as we define it, whatever that means, and we’re happy to get into that, of course. We also sell beer, cider, spirits, and otherwise but the focus for us has always been being the first and only natural wine shop in D.C. We opened the day before Thanksgiving in 2018, so it’s been about two and a half years now. Of course, then Covid happened, so about half of our lifespan has been a really interesting time. We are located in the middle of D.C. where a bunch of neighborhoods meet on a very busy corner there, but we are a wine shop that really cares about natural wine.

A: How large is the shop? For listeners who live all over the country, everyone has a different vision of the wine shop. Can you paint in our minds what the shop looks like? How many bottles are you selling? What is the square footage?

J: The shop is fairly large. I think one of the main things that we wanted to do is create a natural wine shop that looked a little different. Many natural wine shops, both in Europe and in the U.S., are pretty small. They are the classic shops set up with boxes on the floor, dark and intimate. Those are great. However, I think we’ve all spent a lot of time shopping in those places, so we wanted to do something that was a bit larger and had a different look and feel to it. To answer your question, Domestique is big. It’s over 2,000 square feet. It has very high ceilings. It’s in a former industrial space, in a very old building in D.C. We have a fair bit of wine. We have over a thousand skews. There’s a lot of wine on the floor at any time. It’s a shop, I’d say visually, that’s also defined by the way that it’s organized in the sense that we try not to overcrowd. We wanted a lot of space to showcase these producers and their bottles. There’s a lot of light. We have nine floor-to-ceiling windows around the shop. We were lucky enough to find a space in D.C. where none of those windows ever get direct sunlight. It’s all indirect, which, for the wine, is very helpful. Obviously, we have blinds and window treatments, but we wanted it to be a very light-filled experience. We wanted it to be a little more inviting and change what people are used to in wine retail, which I think can sometimes be intimidating. Opposite to that of a darker, intimate experience where you have to be in the same space as other people in very tiny spaces all the time.

A: OK, so you started in 2018. What propelled you to open a wine shop?

J: I moved here about five years ago. My wife got a job here, and we moved down. I’m actually from D.C. I never thought I would live here as an adult. Before that, I spent my entire life in New York and San Francisco. When I got here, I realized that the wines that I was used to selling professionally and drinking personally were not being sold in D.C. There wasn’t a retailer similar to those I was shopping in in those other cities. I spent a lot of time in New York with Chamber Street and in San Francisco, with Bi-Rite. There wasn’t anybody doing that, and that need felt apparent to me. Part of it was as simple as wanting to bring that to D.C. because it didn’t seem to exist. At the same time, D.C. has a really fantastic wine community, full of really curious wine drinkers. People who love food and wine. It was a combination of those two things, put together, which made it seem like the right opportunity. Of course, like any other business, it took years to get going and bring the process together, but that was the genesis of the idea.

A: Cool. Jeff, you had worked on the floor before starting this? Did you work at other shops? I know you mentioned that you sold wine prior to opening Domestique.

J: I did both. I started working in wine retail in San Francisco when I was 23 years old. I was a new, legal drinker. Then, in San Francisco, I opened up (when I was still young) a wine bar and retailer called Heart. It was in the city on Valencia Street. That was in 2010, and we were open for a couple of years. In New York, I was a sommelier at Del Posto.

A: Meri, what about you? What brought you to Domestique?

M: I got into beverage by way of food. I’m a food lover and I moved to D.C., like a lot of young, bright-eyed college graduates, to work in policy. Very quickly, I became disillusioned with that world and found my home in kitchens and in restaurants. Then, I eventually ran a restaurant called Little Serow, which is a Thai Restaurant in Dupont Circle in Washington, D.C. I really fell in love with the idea of connecting with people over food and wine. Also, curating people’s experiences, being part of their special moments, and their everyday weekday meals. That’s how I fell in love with wine. It could tell a story, brighten somebody’s day, share something new, or connect people who maybe didn’t have a ton in common. Domestique is built around people. It’s built around making people feel comfortable, making people feel safe, sharing new experiences, flavors, and ideas with people. That is very much something I identified with. It felt like a very natural fit when the time came to join and to grow. Those two things feel very part and parcel; wine and the experience of taking care of people, whether that be in the dining room or also on the floor of a white shop.

A: We’re talking a lot about the floor of a wine shop but then, exactly a year ago, Covid happened. How did that change your business, and what does Domestique look like now? Is it different than what it looked like before? What have you guys done to adapt to everything that’s been happening in the current environment?

J: Domestique looks hugely different now. I’d say it’s hard to even compare to what it was. At the moment, we are still closed for all walk-in shopping. We’re doing shopping by appointment only. We are really focused on local delivery, in-store pickup at the front door, and shipping to people nationally. We had gone from being a very busy brick-and-mortar retailer to essentially being a small warehouse. Like an Amazon that’s not Amazon. Staffed by people who come from restaurants and wanted to talk to customers about wine. I’d say overall — and Meri, I’m sure you have more to add to this — but in one day, like the flip of a switch, the whole business shifted massively.

A: Is the primary focus shipping now? Are you sending to customers all over the country, or are the majority of your customers still in the D.C. area?

M: The majority of our customers are still local, but we had a very small nationwide presence in terms of shipping prior to Covid, and that has grown exponentially for us. It’s still a smaller portion of our overall customer base, but it definitely has grown. We’ve had to develop systems for local delivery and nationwide shipping overnight. Those have adapted, evolved, and gotten smoother and less bumpy along the way. We were forced to grow up and be nimble in those ways to grow faster than we were anticipating in terms of those markets. We still have a very loyal and wonderful customer base in our own neighborhood and in the D.C. area. We have a huge amount of people who still come up, pick up their wine, and all of that happens outside of the store. We do have a system for handing off wine like many restaurants and shops in the country and around the world. However, it’s been a challenge. The challenges have been with the physical space like Jeff mentioned. We have this beautiful shop that’s designed for people to walk around. It has wide aisles, space, and light, but now it’s filled with packing boxes and bags with people’s names on them. It still doesn’t feel normal to have a space that’s not meant to be doing what it’s doing. Also, the challenge still is how to promote. That’s the human connection that we are so passionate about, that we really fed off of pre-Covid. Now, that takes the form of appointments. Since things have settled down, we’ve started to do appointments. There are one-on-one appointments that customers can book, even phone appointments. Then there’s off-the-cuff calls and emails that we get with people who would normally pop in and can’t do that anymore. How can we promote them? Asking those questions and having a bit of spontaneity in terms of our interactions. Sometimes that comes in the form of just a note, a doodle, or some sort of a whimsy that you don’t get these days, especially in these times when we’re all having to be far apart. It’s been a huge priority for us in terms of our staff in maintaining our customer base to continue that connection and reach.

A: I’m curious about this because Meri, you brought up the hotlines. Natural wine is very confusing to most consumers. It’s a term that people define very differently. For some people, it’s a taste profile. For other people, it just means by the name of organic wine. It’s a wine that I find you can’t really understand unless you walk into a wine shop or have a conversation with people about what actually you mean as a consumer when you say you like natural wine. I’m curious about how you’re dealing with that now, because obviously when someone walks into the shop, they would have gotten to have those conversations. Now, you set up a hotline. Can you talk a little bit more about that and what the process has been? Even now, when I’m on your site, going through all the different wines, I see lots of wines that I’ve never heard of before. How would I ask them about those flavor profiles? What are you both and the whole team doing to help educate consumers?

M: Right. It’s like you said in the appointments and the hotline bling. Our phone appointments are part and parcel of that, in addition to enriching those experiences that we do have face-to-face. Even if you’re six feet away with your mask and you’re handing off a bag to somebody, how can you inject a few moments of personality? It’s imperfect. It’s not something that is ideal by any means. This is also the case with our social media and website presence. Again, how can we inject a little bit of flavor of our voice in product descriptions or on Instagram that makes people feel closer to us? Perhaps a safer approach to give us a ring, sending a DM or an email. It’s definitely a work in progress and it’s tough for us, too. We feed off that energy. That’s why we all got into this business. Everybody on our staff signed up to talk to people, not to just to stuff bags.

A: Are people reaching out and using the phone line?

M: Yeah, people are really hungry for human connection right now. I think people are changing emotionally, psychologically, and structurally. People are hungry for that connection and they want to shop more locally. Now, people are more mindful about where they’re spending their money. We’ve had incredible responses in terms of our regulars and also creating new regulars. We are making connections with people halfway across the country because we were forced to grow in those directions, and that has been really rewarding.

A: Obviously, you’ve changed a lot this year in terms of how you’re reaching consumers. Also, you launched a fellowship. Can you talk a little about the fellowship?

J: We decided to launch the fellowship last year around the same time Covid started happening. That was coincidental and unfortunate in many ways, but also the fellowship is something we were very excited about. That came about because of what was happening around the country in terms of the racial justice movement and things happening after George Floyd. It’s something we’d been thinking about for a long time and decided to really bring to fruition as soon as possible. It was how to take the wine world, especially the natural wine world, and make it more accessible. Often we talk about accessibility in terms of consumers, but in this case, more accessible to professionals. The people who wanted to break into the wine world, specifically people of color who weren’t getting the opportunities to get a foothold in the wine world and in natural wine specifically. We wanted to create a fellowship that would give somebody all of the tools they need to go and start their own business at some point. I think one of the things that we face in the wine world is a lack of ownership by people of color. In order to help address that, I think there are a lot of knowledge systems that are hidden away and not accessible. We want to open that up, so we created a fellowship. It was called the Major Taylor Fellowship, named after Major Taylor, who was a cycling star. One of the first Black American sports stars on the global scene over 100 years ago. We have a cycling connection as a shop, so that was the namesake for the project. The idea was a month-long fellowship that would be paid well, because often these opportunities really are not. We would bring somebody into Domestique and would show them everything. You would see wine buying, how the business is run, learn retail, and how we do retail. You would also see the back end of Shopify and the online side of it and how we run our website. You would be exposed to everything. We also coordinated that with stages at three of the top restaurants in D.C. because we didn’t want it to be retail only. The idea was to have the fellowship serve as an intro to the wine world and restaurants. Again, this was pre-Covid in planning and took shape somewhat differently after that, but restaurants are a very important part of wine and part of what we do as retailers. Also, we set it up with restaurants, with three top restaurants, and stage there. The fellowship was a partnership with Street Sense, an organization in D.C. that does work like this. The partnership with Street Sense is really focused on designing spaces, whether it is restaurant design or retail design. How would you go about designing your own space? We got applications from all over the country from a ton of incredible applicants from everywhere. We were shocked by the volume and quality of applications we were getting from people in every nook and corner of the U.S. Our first fellow, Kayla Mensah, started with us later on in the summertime.

A: You only had one fellow so far?

J: So far, we’ve only had one fellow. We’re in the process of getting ready to launch the next round of fellowship right now. Likely in the next month or two, we’ll be rolling out the second part of the fellowship, where we’ll then find the next fellow. Actually, Kayla decided to join us after the fellowship. Kayla is now a full-time member of Domestique and is a sales and ops person for us who does everything. Kayla is incredible. She’s vital on the sales floor, on the website, doing hotline blings and appointments, and also does a lot on the operations side. She really wanted to come to Domestique and be in D.C. We found a really great fit for her, and she continued the work she started in the fellowship at the shop.

A: Does she still have plans to open a spot at some point on her own?

J: She does.

A: When you launch the next one, is there anything from the fellowship you will change? Will you improve or switch anything up at all?

J: I think the plan, as it was, works pretty well. The restaurant angle all depends on where restaurants are. I think given what’s happening with restaurants now with reopening, having a high level of takeout and delivery, wine service at restaurants looks different. We’ll likely want to talk to our restaurant partners in D.C. and see how they would like that element to be integrated. I think also we’ll try to incorporate more travel into it. We definitely involved some winemakers in Virginia, distributors elsewhere around the area into the first round, and I think we’d like to expand that a little bit. Travel and getting to know different people is an essential part of what we do in wine, and it’s something we want to push on as it grows.

A: I sit on a bunch of boards for entrepreneurs who are people of color, and one of the hardest things for people of color to open businesses is access to capital and raising money. Do you spend any time in the fellowship helping people figure out how you have access to capital? Where you can go to raise money, etc.? Banks traditionally have been very strict in giving loans to minority communities. There are investors that, for whatever reason, invest in people that look like them, which is a problem. I’m curious, because I know the goal is to have people open businesses down the road. That’s one of the clear things people need to be able to do. I want to understand how you guys help them understand that ability to get the money to open in the first place.

J: That’s a great point. It’s something we cover for sure. To expand on your question, it would be great to be able to form partnerships with people who could help there as we grow and continue the fellowship. Clearly, access to capital is the biggest or one of the largest barriers here. One of the things that’s not talked about in wine often is that a lot of wine retail is built on having access to a couple of wealthy investors. Bank loans are hard to come by. Retail margins don’t often support a loan structure, but there are some people who are lucky and get loans. However, I think you correctly point out that it is very hard to come by in this world. The other component of that is there is nothing about this that’s set in stone. It’s meant to be fluid. We want to know the people and what their plans are, but Domestique, as a business, is open to investing in these businesses. We talk about, as a business, how we can be involved. If a fellow has a great idea and a great concept, those are the opportunities that we as a retailer and a business in wine are looking to invest in. Both to increase equity and accessibility, but also for us as an investment in growing and making a better wine world. Financially, this is something we are looking to put our time and capital into.

A: Very cool. Obviously, the fellowship is very clear on the site. but how do you promote the fellowship to your own customers? For people who are either listening or are customers of the shop that want to give them support, are there ways that they can do that?

J: There are, and we’re going to try to have more formal ways. Our customers were the most amazing part of the fellowship. Once the fellowship launched, we had customers calling, emailing, and DMing us every single day, multiple times. “How can I help?” “How can I donate money?” We’ve had customers donate their time and professional help. We’ve had customers who reached out and said, “I’m a professional coach. Can I work with this person on professional coaching?” Our customer base really engaged with Kayla as a fellow and with the fellowship in general. We would like to find a way to formalize the ability to bring in donations and other investments, via capital or not, on a larger scale, because it was really heartening to see people’s responses there and how much people wanted to help. To this day, we have customers who will call the shop or book a hotline appointment and ask to speak to Kayla. Our customers want to interact with the person who has this role. They want to support it, but they also are just really excited about the prospect of playing a part in this.

A: Very cool. Well, Meri and Jeff, thank you so much for taking the time to chat with me and telling me more about Domestique and all the cool stuff you guys are doing in D.C. Everyone appreciates the hard work that you’re putting in. Hopefully, things change for the better very soon in terms of being able to open and having a shop full of customers again. In the meantime, where can people find you?

M: We are at domestiquewine.com as well as on Instagram. We are always excited and available for emails, DMs, phone calls, or book online for an in-person appointment. We’re hoping to get back to where we were and go beyond that.

Thanks so much for listening to the “VinePair Podcast.” If you love this show as much as we love making it, then please leave us a rating on iTunes, Spotify, Stitcher, or wherever it is you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show.

Now, for the credits. VinePair is produced and recorded in New York City and Seattle, Wash., by myself and Zach Geballe, who does all the editing and loves to get the credit. Also, I would love to give a special shout-out to my VinePair co-founder, Josh Malin, for helping make all this possible, and also to Keith Beavers, VinePair’s tasting director, who is additionally a producer on the show. I also want to, of course, thank every other member of the VinePair team who are instrumental in all of the ideas that go into making the show every week. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again.

The article Next Round: How D.C.’s Domestique Wine Is Creating an Inclusive Wine Culture appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/next-round-domestique-wines/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/next-round-how-dcs-domestique-wine-is-creating-an-inclusive-wine-culture

[antarestyl]

you would write a fic with more sansbyyy (obviously not in tbs),😂I know you have a fic but mah heart needs more

Well, have a small fic then. Dunno just yet how far I will go with this. I would think at least 1-2 more chapters the least, but this might develop into more like the UF!Sansby one. ;)

This will be like 90% fluff for everybody who needs this right now.

Something old, something new…    

AO3 link

Summery: Many things changed with coming to the surface. Grillby and Sans’s relationship might be one of these things.

Living on the surface came with a lots of plus points.

For one point, it was the SURFACE. There was a sky and the sun and the STARS in the night. It was a beautiful place, full of plants and animals and all kinds of human stuff. It was new and interesting and ever changing.

There was weather.

Humans were a bit confused when monster showed a pretty strange but enthusiastic joy whenever the weather changed. Be it sunny or cloudy, rain or snow, heat or mild temperatures, it would put monster in good moods.

Another strange but good thing was that apparently gold was pretty valuable to humans. So what was a meager savings for hard times before, was now a wealth great enough to live comfortably on for quite a while.

Grillby never hurt for money, his sold from his soldier-days was barely touched over all the time, but he enjoyed working in his bar. And now he could built his bar all new and just like he wanted. Also now he could hire some more employees so he had even more flexibility and could even take some days off work.

The problem was, that he didn’t really know what to do with himself once he had a day off.

While his new bar was constructed, he already took the time to travel a bit, visiting a near-by dessert and checked out all sorts of tourist attractions that could be found around his living space. He had been thinking about visiting other countries too but found himself a bit to nervous flying on airplanes over big bodies of water to really consider this.

So there he was, having one of his free days… and being pretty bored.

His apartment was pretty bare. There really wasn’t much he did in here usually besides sleeping and resting after work so he didn’t bother with personalizing it. There were a few photographs on the walls but nothing much else. It felt… empty. Lonely.

He did still have his niece but she had moved a bit out of town with Grillby’s sister and her girlfriend, so he talked mostly via texts with her. But now it was a weekday so she would be in school most likely.

Most of Grillby’s friends were regulars from his bar and friends was… a bit big of an word for that. He knew them and cared about them but he wasn’t really close with them.

Grillby’s flames flickered a bit lower when he finally concluded that he was just very very lonely.

He kind of missed Snowdin now. Long days at the bar, which was always filled with familiar faces. And of course, Sans, who came each and every day.

Sans had been a stable for some years for Grillby, a small skeleton monster with a way with puns and who never failed to make Grillby laugh. They had struck up an easy friendship, Sans being there to cheer Grillby up and Grillby being there to listen to Sans and help him if needed. The tap was a long-standing joke between them. Sans payed what he owned Grillby without a fail and Grillby would sometimes give Sans food for free, especially when he saw the small skeleton struggle with life in general.

Sans wouldn’t always tell him everything that was wrong but Grillby had the feeling that Sans told him more about the things going on in his life than to anybody else. Grillby in turn had the feeling he could trust Sans with everything in his life in turn.

They knew a lot of things of each other. Grillby knew about Sans struggling with money sometimes. He knew Sans lost his parents at a young age and that Papyrus doesn’t remember either of them. He knew Sans liked ketchup because the texture was nice to him and he hated raw carrots. He knew Sans was afraid of heights. He knew how much Sans loved his brother and that he loved the stars and longed to see them for real. He knew Sans used to be a scientist but that something happened and he is not one anymore. He knew Sans had a friend he had never seen face-to-face, a voice behind a door that shared puns and knock-knock-jokes with him.

He knew a ton more and Grillby had always felt kinda honored to know this much about Sans. It felt nice. When he called Sans his dear friend in public the eyes of the little skeleton had lit up brightly and Grillby had felt a flutter of warmness at the sight.

It all changed on the surface.

Sans now was heavily involved in politics, even if only behind the scenes. He took care of Frisk whenever Queen Toriel or King Asgore couldn’t, he was behind the scenes when his brother was speaking the to the humans. He sat together with the royal scientist Alphys at the tables as an representative of the science division of monster kin and he still acted like the judge whenever Asgore needed him to be. Grillby had heard that Sans had bought a house and a telescope, a real one, and had a year-pass for the observatory. He heard talk that the little skeleton could become a real scientist again, working on big projects about space and stars.

He didn’t heard any of this from Sans himself and hadn’t seen his dear friend in weeks. To be honest, it hurt more than he would have thought.

Grillby was old and had lived through a lot of years. He had seen monster come and go, whole lines of families in Snowdin went by in a blink of an eye. Sure, each death of somebody he knew hurt but nothing hurt so much than the notion that he had lost the one that was his closest friend for such a long time to the wonders of the surface.

A part of Grillby longed to be back in Snowdin.

He signed deeply, banishing the thoughts. No, that was not fair. None of this was fair.

He decided to spend the day outside, leaving his empty and cold department to go to a near-by park. Maybe that would banish his dark thoughts.

The weather was nice. Pretty nice in fact. The sun was shining, birds were singing and flowers were blooming in the little park that Grillby favored for his walks when his apartment seemed to be closing in on him. It was nice and relaxing out here, the air fresh with a small current in it that let Grillby’s flames dance a bit.

There were a few children with their parents out here, some people walking their dogs or couples relaxing on the benches. It was positively idyllic.

And then Grillby saw Sans. He was standing in the middle of the small road, together with the young human that freed all monster, laughing with them while he stacked up Hotdogs on their head. He was wearing his usual blue jacket but also a pair of ridiculous sunglasses in the shape of flowers and a straw-hat, black shorts and some sort of sandals on his feet.

The human must have noticed him because they turned around and waving at Grillby, prompting Sans to turn around too. There was always a smile on Grillby’s friend but this one seemed… more like any other smile he saw on Sans. More… more peaceful.

Sans was happy, truly happy, and Grillby wondered if he had ever saw Sans happy like this.

“Hey, Grillby,” Sans said as he came closer. “fancy meeting you here. Is this your day off?”

Grillby nodded slowly. “I was… talking a walk.”

“Nice.”, chuckled Sans while Frisk signed quickly beside him.

 //We weren’t at Grillby’s for so long! How are you?//

“I am quite well.”, said Grillby softly. “Thank you for your concern… I haven’t heard from you…. in a while too. It is nice… to see you.”

Frisk nodded happily while Grillby looked over to Sans who looked… slightly guilty?

“Hey, kiddo… how about you go and get some nice-creme and we’ll meet up at the playground in a bit?”, Sans said, handing Frisk some money. The human nodded happily, waving at Grillby and took off.

And just like this he was left alone with Sans.

Sans who looked… more and more uncomfortable? Grillby’s flames lowered a bit more. Friends shouldn’t feel uncomfortable in each others present… right? Did their relationship change this much already?

“Uh… hey again.”, mumbled Sans, laughing slightly. “Wow it… it has been a while.”

“A… few weeks.”, said Grillby. It were six weeks and five days, not that he was counting.

“Wow… time flies huh?”, chuckled Sans nervously before sighing and looking down. “Look, Grillby… I am sorry. I just… so much stuff happened and I… felt kinda bad just popping in on you when you got so much to do too.”, he tried to explain. “I really should have come over more, huh?”

“You are… not under any obligation to visit me.”, said Grillby, trying to soot his friend.

“Still… it… I’m sorry.”, mumbled Sans.

“… I missed you.” was out of Grillbys mouth before he could swallow his own words and Sans blinked, looking at him with wide white eye-lights.

“You did?”, he asked and Grillby was… confused. He sounded like he didn’t expect it.

“Of course.”, he reassured Sans. “I… missed you a lot. Even with… many thing going on… I… would have understood. And enjoyed your company greatly not matter the context and quantity.”

Sans now looked even more guilty and Grillby felt a bit more distress at that.

“Shit Grills, I… I am really sorry now.”, Sans said, sighing. “How about… I’ll make it up to you?”

“… how…?”, asked Grillby surprised.

“Well, I got the day off, you got the day off… I just drop Frisk off to Toriel after this and then we can… meet up? Catch up on stuff?”

Grillby blinked at the offer but felt compelled to take it. He never really met Sans outside of his work but on the other hand, there was barely a time where he was off work in the Underground. So he found himself nodding.

“Alright… How about 3pm at yours?”, asked Sans. “I’ll get you and we’ll figure out where we go?”

Grillby thought shortly about. It was around 11am right now so it was not an unreasonable time. He could finish his walk like this and wouldn’t have to wait to long for their meet-up. So he nodded.

“Alright.”, Grillby said, just to make sure, feeling a smile spread on his face with the realization that he didn’t lost his dear friend apparently. He was looking forward to meeting up now, rekindling what they had in the Underground.

“Nice, it’s a date!”, cheered Sans before winking and teleporting away, most likely to get Frisk while Grillby was left standing frozen again.

 A.. a date?

[inputgarlic92]

Take a View at the State of the Art iPhones

Customers probably concur with me that iPhone X layout was one of the very best, and that is precisely why Apple chose to keep the exact same look for their next pair of personal cell phones. Introduced a year ago, it is the very first Apple smart phone to remove the main button. In the other, I held its brand-new successor, the iPhone Xs. My eyes squeezed closed, and I passed them back and forth between my hands, rolling each phone over, feeling the curves, glass backs, dual lens camera lumps, and radar vents. I realized I could not tell the difference between both phones. This is not a criticism. It is just a fact of S model years, where Apple locks in the iPhone layout and concentrates, instead, on upgrading key internal parts. As such, the biggest changes to this 5.8-inches iPhone Xs and its big brother, the 6.5-inch iPhone Xs Max, both of which I tested, could be discovered in performance (thanks to the newest A12 Bionic CPU), photos and videos, (new digital cameras and a new ISP endorsed by the A12), along with functionality (iOS12, the final version of which came pre-applied on my test components ). The outcome is a pair of brilliant, tasteful, and high-performing gadgets which can please iPhone enthusiasts and receive over a couple of looks in Android cellphones. It has the exact rigid surgical metal frame wrapped into a fresh glass substance that Apple said was formulated to be scratch tolerant and heavy duty. I gave the phones a few half-hearted drops onto a thin-pile rug but was not prepared to let them slide away on concrete. Thus far I have discovered just one very nice scratch on your iPhone Xs Max. So let's consider them scratch-resistant, but still not scratch-proof. The larger iPhone Xs Max shares all of the iPhone X's content and layout attributes, but does this in a 6.2-inch x 3.05-inch x 0.30-inch body. In 208 g, it's much thicker than the iPhone Xs. The Xs Max is a hair shorter (0.04 inches) and narrower (0.02 inches), but it is also a few grams heavier than the Iphone 8 Plus, the big-screen phone that from a space the Iphone Xs Max most resembles. Button positioning power/sleep, volume controls, ring/silent switch -- will be the exact same. But, there is one minor chassis gap. On the bottom edge of the telephones sits the lightning connector. It is book-ended by a pair of holes that adapt one half of their stereo speaker system and one of the telephone's microphones. There was six holes on both sides. Now the ideal side has six slots, but the left, which just houses a mike, has just three. This little change was done, in part, to adapt the new internal antenna setting that contains 4x4 MIMO and License Assisted Access, which utilizes unlicensed 5 GHz spectrum to deliver 1 Gbps broadband over LTE. Apple updated the water and also dust-resistance rating to IP 68, that contrasts to the handsets surviving in 2 meters of water for as much as half an hour. I didn't get to go swimming together with the Iphone Xs or even Xs Max, but did operate the latter phone under water, juice and milk. Then, as recommended, I dried and shut off the smart phone. I was careful not to plug it into a lighting cable (that is a no-no after a dowsing) but did place it on a wireless charging foundation at which it had no trouble accepting a fee. Apple, incidentally, said it put some work in creating the wireless charging platform (basically the concealed coils within the phone) more forgiving. This is good news, because I've on more than one occasion, awakened to find my iPhone X didn't charge because I placed it a little off-axis on the charging base. I never ran into this issue with either the iPhone Xs or even Xs Max. The Iphone Xs and iPhone Xs Max bodies are rigid and robust-feeling, but torqueable, especially the larger telephone, which really makes a tiny clicking sound when I attempt to twist it. Clearly, I have only had those iPhones for weekly, but based on a calendar year's encounter with the first iPhone X (allowed, largely in a sparse instance ), I consider this design framework tough and prepared for the long haul. Even as Samsung trolls Apple to its black cutout at the top of this Iphone Xs and Xs Max, Apple reveals no clues of moving back in the multi-feature technology, which grew nor slipped in the hottest iPhones. As with the first TrueDepth Module, that one is still packed with the same elements (none of that, so much as I could tell, have been updated). There is a 7 MP camera, dot projector for thickness sensing, infrared camera (thickness sensing), flood illuminator (yes, too for depth-sensing), proximity sensor, ambient light detector, the second half of the stereo speaker program, along with a mic. On the backs of both the Iphone Xs and Xs Max, there is more of the custom made glass, the Apple Logo, the word Iphone (but no"X" or"s"), along with also the 12 MP dual camera system. This vertically-oriented, pill-shaped camera module appears exactly the same as it did to the last iPhone X. It's still a prominent bump, but at least it did not get any bigger. Within the module is new hardware supported by new picture technologies, but more on that later. I have always thought that the 5.8-inch iPhone X an excellent tradeoff between a big-screen phone and hand-friendly ergonomics. The screen is big and immersive, however, the human body is comfortable to hold and pocket. The iPhone Xs Max by contrast can, particularly if you're utilized to holding a smaller phone, feel large. It is not embarrassing to hold, but people with smaller hands will probably struggle with one-handed usage and will most likely wish to turn on Reachability, which having a swipe back on the flat bar moves everything halfway down the screen, which makes it longer reachable. Nonetheless, the trade-off could possibly be well worth it. I forgot how much I like the bigger iPhone screen, and on the iPhone Xs Max, you receive a lot more display without contending with a larger phone (there's just that 0.04-inch height difference between the iPhone 8 Plus and the iPhone Xs Max). Apple's full-stack control of the Iphone design, development, and manufacturing process pays dividends throughout the gleaming handset. Nonetheless, it's most noticeably from the silicon, which can be created and designed in tandem with the hardware and software elements that will rely on it. This past Year, Apple delivered the A11 Bionic, a powerful portable CPU with built-in Artificial Intelligence Power. The brand new A12 Bionic assembles on this brief legacy having a more strong Neural Engine and much more impressive graphics functionality. Anytime I critique a new iPhone, I begin using Geekbench 4 to check out the raw CPU operation. To ensure there are minimum background processes moving, I usually run the exam before I have set up one program. I conducted the Geekbench CPU routine and (along with understanding that Apple stuffed an additional gig of memory inside the brand new Xs class iPhones) saw the only core scores had improved somewhat between the A11 Bionic along with A12 Bionic. On the other hand, that the multi-core score was strangely lower. Not by a lot, but I had never seen that occur. The numbers were much higher than what I got from Qualcomm's Snapdragon 845, however a decrease effect on the new iPhone did not make sense. However, when I reran the Geekbench CPU test per day or so after, the A12 multi-core numbers defeat those of the A11. My guess is that, even though I set up the iPhone Xs and Xs Max as fresh iPhones, there might nevertheless have been a background installation process going on that dragged down the CPU numbers. The bigger leap in functionality is from the Geekbench Compute Metal score, which leapt from 15,145 on the iPhone X into 22,245 about the Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Apple's done a great deal of work to beef up images performance, especially for the raft of ARKit 2 (and Metal 2) software heading into the platform, some of which can support multiplayer gambling. While there aren't a lot of ARKit 2 programs in the app shop, I'd get some hands-on time using an Iphone Xs running Galaga AR, the identical demo Apple showed off throughout the iPhone Xs unveiling. To play with, me and a few other writers stood about a desk and pointed out our phones at the Galaga video arcade game console. Shortly, alien attackers began streaming first from the video game display and then from all around us. I swung the telephone from side-to-side up and up and down to view and then take the incoming assault. It was fast-paced and cool. In the same way, I have seen , together with ARKit two, the phone can place, say, an incredibly realistic virtual pressure stove or sneaker to a real table or in my feet, the illusion divided only once I slid my hand into the frame and, even about the iPhone Xs screen, it looked just like my notes had been stuck beneath the kettle. You can not support these types of real-virtual mixes without ample graphics horsepower, thickness mapping, and the AI needed to identify the way surfaces, shadows, and even reflections will work on virtual items in an actual space. This processing power also helped amp up more ordinary operations such as Face ID. While the process of registering my face was unchanged from the first iPhone X, opening either telephone with my head, as well as using Face ID to access password-protected apps and solutions, is clearly quicker than it had been on the iPhone X. In general, in real-world programs, both iPhone Xs and Xs Max operate smoothly. Apple place tremendous effort into enhancing the picture and video experience to the Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Along with new lenses along with a larger detector, both the cameras (rear and selfie) are all backed with a brand new image signal processor. The specs on the dual cameras have been untouched by the iPhone X (and would be the exact same on both iPhone Xs and Xs Max). There is the 1.8 wide angle lens and the f 2.4 2X telephoto. Both comprise optical image stabilization and may shoot up to 4K video in 60 fps. They still take slow-motion video at up to 240 frames per minute. If you want insane 960 fps super-slo-mo, then you will have to visit Samsung. From the pure-play digital photography race, even however, Apple requires the head. The Smart HDR uses detector, ISP, and neural enhancements to catch some of the greatest high-dynamic range photos I've ever seen. The difference between what was possible on the first iPhone X along with the Xs and Xs Max is stunning. Apple built a system able of capturing two frames every thirtieth of a moment, and instantly assessing and combining them into one image that preserves not only foreground and background detail, but can freeze actions without presenting tremendous grain. In many images, I saw the iPhone Xs and Xs Max find colour and detail in shadowy spaces with out wasting out the brighter locations. The Samsung Galaxy Note 9 is also an outstanding low light shot, however I feel the Xs line is a bit better. I am particularly impressed by how Apple's built upon its own pole position in Portrait Mode digital photography. Apple introduced Portrait Mode back in 2016 with all the iPhone 7 Plus (the applications lagged from the hardware). Since then, Apple's elegant the concept, adding things like Studio Light, Contour Light, Stage Light, and Stage Light Mono. All these features remain, and are somewhat improved. That which I love and also, as an amateur photographer who often plays with f-stops for just the ideal depth of field change, is that the brand new Depth Control. Depth Control enables you to take a Portrait Mode photo and adjust the Bokeh, or depth of field focus, after you shoot the photos. This works with both the front and rear cameras, which means that the image processor is using two distinct sorts of depth information. On the back, it has the advantage of two lenses to become stereoscopic info. The leading camera counts on the depth-sensing components. I am aware of, Samsung's Galaxy Notice 9 provides the capacity to correct background focus while you're taking the image, in addition to after. But, there's an essential difference here that is evident in the iPhone Xs and Xs Max Depth picture editor. It is a slider that lets you adjust smoothly from an electronic f 1.4 aperture into a digital f16. In a real camera with a mechanical aperture, even high amounts interpret to sharper focus in the backdrop and reduced numbers imply the focus depth is much shallower. About the Galaxy Notice 9, Live Focus basically sees the images as two planes: the foreground and background. The slider blurs the background airplane. The Iphone Xs's depth slider relies on all of the depth information to reduce or enhance background attention through all of the airplanes between the front of this subject and the desktop. Combined with the improved Portrait Mode stitching (handling how the subject and a blurred background match together), the subtlety of this effect through the array of virtual f-stops is impressive and, Apple's explained, is modeled by how actual lenses with hardware apertures would influence each image. For most people the smart phone is their camera. This sets a pro-level controller in the hands of millions of individuals, that are about to start taking some genuinely fantastic face pictures. Just after taking regular shots, video, and 4K, I remain surprised with the quality of photos and videos coming from their Iphone Xs and Xs Max. Sure, it is odd that the larger Xs Max does not, as could be tradition, have some improved image capturing attributes, however I doubt anyone is going to be dismayed with the picture quality delivered by either new smartphone. There are a couple of other hardware-related improvements, like the guaranteed dual-sim technologies that enables multiple phone numbers (believe work and individual numbers of one telephone ) through the aid of eSIM technologies. Unlike routine SIMs, you don't need a carrier card solely for the provider to support it and enable it on your cell phone. It's a wonderful feature that, for obvious reasons, I couldn't test. For audio enthusiasts, there's also the newest stereo recording and also wider-stereo playback. This is just a bit hard to check, and that I occasionally worry my ears are not adequate to detect what might be a more nuanced difference. But, I'd find a way. I listed , in landscape style, a few cars traveling by. These start on the left side of this screen and push to the rightside. In movie I recorded with the iPhone Xs, the noise travels from one side of the telephone to the other. Playback on the iPhone X is pretty loud however does not have the identical level of separation audio.

Clearly, movies with a lot of sound engineering aren't only great showcases for the amazing displays, but highlight the new, wider stereo playback abilities as well. As hardware/software partnerships go, you can't do better than the Apple iPhone Xs and iOS 12. I have been operating betas of their new portable OS for months on my iPhone X and found it impressively smooth and stable. On the Iphone Xs and Xs Max, it gets even better partners. In addition to butter-smooth and lighting rapid operation (in games, video, and internet browsing), the augmented reality abilities introduced in iOS 11, ARKit, and the iPhone X are more refined and customizable from iOS 12 along with the Iphone Xs. The smart assistant is a better listener than ever, and getting smarter. Her speech is more conversational and she's requesting follow-up questions. Siri can be more proactive, discovering connections between disparate items such as schedules and locations and offering them in advance. Additionally, there are a variety of third party programs tapping into Siri, letting you use only your voice to get program attributes and data without even opening the app. You are able to install iOS 12 on your old iPhone (down to this Iphone 5s), however not all of attributes, especially those between AR, will work on the older devices. Still, I greatly recommend the upgrade with at least anyone operating an iPhone 7 and up. It is simply a much better, more glossy, proactive, and smart user experience and, to be fair, I've barely scratched the face of all the upgrades and feature enhancements you'll find. Apple asserts 30 minutes more battery life involving the Iphone X and Xs and 90 minutes more with all the Iphone Xs Max. In my experience, both brand new phone will get you through the majority of the afternoon on a single charge. I spent using just the iPhone Xs Max. this article I kept the brightness high and ran all kinds of apps and processes. It lasted just a solid 10 hours. Maybe a bit less than I expected, but still enough for me through the majority of the working day. In all honesty, with less than a week under my belt, it's difficult to offer a complete evaluation of battery life performance. There are many factors and, clearly, battery life is going to be good on brand new phones. Talk to me in 6 months or 1 year, and we're going to see if I'm still happy with battery life. It is not strange that Apple didn't bring down the cost for the brand new $999 Iphone Xs (or hold on the original model and market it at a lower cost ). I'm not even shocked that we finally have an almost $1,100 model or that we're able to pay a whopping $1,449 for the 512 GB Iphone Xs Max (which appears to be the version that I tested). Apple's already demonstrated that individuals will pay virtually anything to get their hands on the newest iPhone. Is $1,000 or more to cover a smart phone? Perhaps, however a lot of us think of the entire cost as opposed to monthly payments? I am, however, a little annoyed that Apple stopped the lightning -to-3.5 millimeter adapter. It is as if, in the past 12 months, we have gotten rid of the Beats and Bose headsets, such as it is a solved problem. Memo to Apple: It is not. What I will say is that these are the iPhones you want. The iPhone Xs does not mess with what I consider a timeless design, and the Xs Max only takes all that is amazing about the iPhone X also enlarges it. As a set, they are equally as beautiful as the original home-button-free Iphone X. The design appears particularly tasteful in a golden finish. Photographers will love the new camera, and also players and content customers will want the big-display iPhone Xs Max. Should you currently own the iPhone X, I still would not update unless you need more realistic augmented reality and also full depth control on your own portraits. For iPhone 6s, 7, 8, and even 8 Plus officers, the iPhone Xs and Xs Max will certainly feel as a giant leap to the foreseeable future.

[jetbootcollection]

The Bar with no Name on the Astral Plane

This is a fic focusing on the Voltron Lions. Because the Lions deserve to be main characters too. I’m sure there is a typo in there somewhere. Happy hunting!

For the first time in ten thousand years, Voltron had been formed. The newly minted Paladins did not even know where the Lion’s hangars were yet, instead meeting Princess Allura at the front gate of the Castle. Once the adrenaline of the fight had worn off, Allura directed each Paladin to their hangar hidden in the Castle’s spires. Hunk is the last to be guided into place, nearly colliding with the hangar walls twice. He disembarks, and Yellow watches him disappear through the door on his way to meet the others.

Yellow feels a tug on the edge of his mind. Red is inviting him to the mindspace they share. It takes time to focus enough to project himself into the mindspace, seeing how they have been apart for so long. The Lion’s massive mechanical body seems to melt away as he reaches out for his brothers and sisters, eager to be reunited with them.

By the time all the Lions arrive, the residents of the Castle are asleep. They choice their physical forms, each defaulting to a glowing version of their new pilots. Even after ten thousand years, it takes only a moment to recognize one another.

Yellow is big and boisterous as ever, with no indoor voice unless the situation is serious. He finds Hunk’s form much more agreeable than his last Paladin. She had been thin as a rail.

Red has fire in her eyes and a good natured but wicked smile. She likes Keith’s form for what it is, but lacks a certain something. A tail would be great for balance if she decided to do some running.

Blue is relaxed and high strung at the same time. Always ready to leap into action, but prefers to just lay around lounging until the time comes. Lance’s form is too tall for her liking, but adores the voice.

Black is an imposing and protective presence. Not that he tries to be, it just happens. Shiro’s form is far too small, but even Zarkon’s younger form reminded him too much of was he had been forced to do.

Green is quiet and reserved, but can still take the lead of a conversation if she is interested. Pidge’s form was… odd. She did not know what it was, male or female. It was both, yet neither. It must have to do with her Paladin’s mental image of themselves.

The Lions greet each other and begin building an environment to interact within the void that is their mindspace, but are interrupted by an unfamiliar presence. One that was pink.

“Where…am I?” Allura asks. She sees the luminous humans before her but knows they are not the Paladins that had awoken her from cryo sleep that day.

“Well THIS is most unexpected! Come, Princess, and know us better!” Yellow blasted, startling Allura. He picks her up and rests her on his shoulder with gentle but infinite strength.

“Are you… the Lions? How can this be?” Allura wonders aloud, looking from one Lion to another from her new perch. Red knows she has nothing to contribute to the coming conversation and goes off to build a place to congregate while they catch up, with Green following right on her currently nonexistent tail.

“We are ‘magical space lions,’ as our Paladins like to say. This place a representation of our shared bond to one another. Even we do not understand how it came to be a traversable domain.” Black explained. “But even a Paladin would need a strong bond and an invitation to join us here. Your presence is most puzzling.”

“It could be that Alfor linked her lifeforce to our own. That was how Yellow and Green were found.” Blue offered as a solution. “Such a link would not require an invitation, and would certainly be a strong enough bond.”

“It matters not. She is welcome as my guest.” Yellow protested, seeming to sense an unwelcoming tone in Blue’s voice that simply was not there. He turns to his older brother, and seeing Black give no objection to Allura’s intrusion, he continued. “Now, let us see what Green and Red have been constructing in our absence.”

In the near distance of the void stood several tables, light fixtures that floated in midair, and a long countertop with stools. Behind this countertop was several shelves that were packed with a multitude of bottles. Not a single wall was to be found, but the arrangement of furnishings gave an impression of a closed room.  

“This looks interesting. What has the handiwork of the arms of Voltron wrought?” asked Blue as they approached.

“Keith calls it a ‘bar.’ It is a place of libations that requires a level of maturity to enter.” Came the response from Red, forming a series of sturdy looking chairs with a wave of the hand. Allura is slightly put off by what appears to be Keith referring to himself in the third person. Even more off putting was ‘his’ body language being clearly feminine. She had known Keith for mere vargas, yet she knew enough for the Red Lion’s actions to feel unnatural.

“Shiro knows of these ‘bars’ as well. He would not think highly of Keith’s knowledge of such things if he knew. This seems like a strange choice of venue.” Blacks said, concern edging into his voice. His knowledge of such a place came solely from Shiro, who saw them as places of debauchery.

“It was my idea. Red informed me of the effects of a place such as this and I decided it would be a benefit to us all. However, I was not expecting Alfor’s daughter to join us.” Said Green. Black had watched over the small lion since before she was built, and knew something had to be troubling her to choose such a place to meet.

“Allura is most welcome!” Yellow decreed, taking the Princess from his shoulder and lifting her as far away from the others as he could, as if expecting them to have any intention of sending her away. Allura squeaks in surprise as she suddenly feels several times higher off the ground than her eyes would have her believe.

“Put her down, Yellow. You are scaring the poor child.” Blue said gently, motioning for him to lower his precious cargo. Green and Red both nod their approval. Finally content that Allura was staying, Yellow’s expression softened and he set her down. Allura gives Blue a thankful smile.

“With that settled, show me what this ‘bar’ has to offer.”

Allura had recognized the smell of alcohol when the first bottled had been opened, and made the wise decision to abstain from whatever the bottles contained. Surely anything powerful enough to alter the mind of a Lion would be enough to hospitalize her. And alter them it had; they had loosened up so much that they spoke more like the Paladins they resembled, even using some of the same strange phrases.

Yellow, Allura, and Black are seated at a round table, sharing stories of the time before the war and their thoughts on the new Paladins. Blue is fascinated beyond words with the billiards table, more than content to simply roll the balls around and watch them bounce as she sips her cocktail.

Nearby, Red experiments with the ‘jukebox’ devise. Of the memories she had seen from Keith, how to operate this contraption was not one of them. Small black disks were carried by a mechanical arm that brought them to a central data retrieval station, allowing their contents to be heard. The music the disks contained was foreign and lacked the ebb and flow of Altean music, but not unpleasant to listen to.

Green is slouched over the bar, demanding another drink from the faceless bartender she had conjured into existence after it became clear that none of them knew what to do with the bottles. The combined knowledge of the Paladins came together to form a competent servant. Black notices the three glasses already crowding around her and kicks himself for being too wrapped up in his stories to have seen it. He goes to see if she is alright, bracing for whatever acidic comments she may have for him.

“Quiznakl’ku you old cat.” Green spits as he nears.

“Tha’s no way to talk to Black, missy!”  Yellow called from the table, tankard of ale in hand. “Now get your bobtail over here where we can see ya. You’ve had enough.”

Green looks like she is about to explode with anger. Black wisely takes a step back. “Don’t call my tail short ya fat bastard!” Allura could almost see Green’s head morph into a more lion-like shape as she turns to face Yellow, but the only true change to Pidge’s form was the sharp teeth that were brought to bear. She had almost forgotten that the people around her are far more powerful than they appear, capable of altering every facet of their environment.

Black moves to put a hand on her shoulder, half restraining and half comforting. She calms down enough to sit back on her stool, teeth returning to normal. After a moment, Black holds her arm to lead her to the table. “No.” she protests weakly before the tears start to well up.

Blue and Red watch from afar, distracting themselves from the commotion by playing an actual game of billiards. They share a look to wordlessly agree that the boys could handle the ramblings of a drunken Green.

“Pidge…I mean, Green, whatever is the matter?” Allura asked the small Lion. It had not been the first time she mistook one of them for their Paladins, and it would not be the last. Green looks as if she is being led to the gallows, sobbing by the time she sits at the table.

“I g-gave up.” She cried wetly as her face rested on her arms.

Black isn’t sure what to make of it. “Gave up on what?”

“ME!” Green yells as she snaps her heads to look at Black with angry red eyes before limply falling back into her arms to continue sobbing.

Everything stops. The bartender freezes mid step. The music hangs in the air. Even the billiard balls ricocheting around the table come to a standstill. Allura could feel the wall-less room become smaller as the Lions focused on Green and what she had said.

“Come again?” said Yellow, so softly that Allura nearly jumped at the new, smaller voice beside her.

Allura didn’t see Red close the distance between them but she was holding Green a tick later none the less. Green cries deeply into her sister’s shoulder. “I’m not like you guys. It was so l-lonely.”

“oh.” Said Yellow, quieter still.

The Lions let her work through the tears and the tension slowly falls. The billiard balls lazily resume their motion and the bartender slowly returns to his duties.

“We all get it, but you’ve scared Allura.” Red said softly as Green continued to cry into her shoulder. “She can’t feel you like we can.”

“Okay.” Green said with a shudder, sniffling as she tries to dry her face with her sleeve. Seeing how distressed the small humanoid was made Allura want nothing more than to comfort the Lion. But by the way Blue was circling Green as a mother circled a wounded cub, she knew to keep her distance.

“I never knew what it was like to not have a Paladin before.” Green started, face still moist. “My Paladin had been there the day I came into the world. I didn’t even have legs yet.” Green chuckled sadly as she remembered her first Paladin.

Black had a similar experience. Zarkon had been a part of his construction, after all. The difference being that he had been quite happy to turn away from his former Paladin when he betrayed them. Blue, Red, and Yellow had all lost a Paladin before the war broke out and remembered how hard that had been. First the loss, then the emptiness that could only be filled by a Paladin. They had learned to cope with it, but had done so with the support of the others. None of them come fathom going through such pain alone.

“Alfor sent us away, told us to wait. And I waited, and waited, and…” Red had to rock her gently to keep Green from crying again. “…and I gave up.”

Allura thought back to the time before the war. The first Green Paladin had been inseparable from his Lion. The Green Lion was the last of the Lions to be built and had been only a few decapheebs old by the time Zarkon betrayed them. She was by no means a child, but inexperienced nonetheless.

“How long did you make it?” asked Blue, sounding as if she was trying to encourage a failing student.

“After 7000 years was when I put my particle barrier down. 7400 before I let the vines overtake me.” Green said, sounding ashamed of herself. “I just laid down on that temple and let those dumb sloth things worship me like a statue.”

“But you got through it, sis. Remember how bad Yellow was the first time? He found a new Paladin within a quintent and still spent the next three nights crying.” Blue said teasingly.

“Hey now. There’s no need for that.” But it was too late. Green was already a giggling mess.

Allura was amazed by how fast things had turned around. Green joined them at the table for more stories with only puffy eyes to even hint that she had been a wreck mere moments ago. At some point, while Black was telling an embarrassing story about the time they had visited a slime planet, she drifted off to sleep.

Allura awoke to the squeaking of mice. She had a strong desire to return to her dream, but could not remember what it had been about. A quick glance at her bedside ticker informed her she had slept in.  It’s not like they know my sleep schedule anyway. She thought to herself.

Making her way to breakfast, she finds the Paladins already poking their way through their plates of food goo. She takes her place at the head of the table, next to Pidge. Shiro starts to brief the team on plans for a training regimen to get them all into fighting shape. As Garrison cadets they were by no means fat or lazy, but it was clear they all needed combat training if they were going to save the universe.

Pidge goes to raise their glass to their lips when Allura puts a hand on their wrist to stop them. “I think you have had quite enough, Pidge.” She says without knowing why. Everyone gives her a questioning look, including herself.

“Princess, it’s just water.” Pidge said while swirling the contents of the cup. “You make it sound like I’m some wino coming off a bender.” Shiro’s eyebrows shoot up. Surely Pidge was too young to know about such things. Lance and Hunk have similar reactions.

“I’m sorry.” Allura says, withdrawing her hand. “For some reason I…I’m sure it was just a dream.”

In the depths of the Castle the Lions share a knowing purr.

  Notes:

Quiznakl’ku translates to ‘go quiznak a thorn bush.’

I’m not good at writing drunk people. I’ve been to a bar a grand total of ‘once’ and only had a single hard lemonade. The friends I went with had work in the morning, so I didn’t exactly get a lot of data.

I like to think that the build order for the Lions went Black, Blue, Yellow, Red, Green. And that Black’s wings were a late addition, the same time Red was built. Hence the color.

My friend @zephynight is entirely to blame for this fic coming to fruition. At least someone understands how I feel about AU oversaturation. Seriously, how many coffee shop and university AUs do we need? Canon compliant works just fine for me. 

[itsclydebitches]

Summary:

Just days after Balem returned to his adult self, Jupiter is thrown head-first into another adventure - one she, frankly, really doesn’t have the energy for. But when has the universe ever taken her desires into account? Mysteries, promises, and desperate moves forward; bees, splices, and awkward family dinners. It’s enough to make even her seasoned head spin.

…which doesn’t even include the chance to play at ‘Mother’ once more. Only question is: will Jupiter take it?

(DIRECT SEQUEL TO “ROCK THE CRADLE”)

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Words: 14,139 so far

Warnings: Will eventually mention previous neglect/abuse of children

Pairings: Jupiter/Caine

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting)

Chapter Eight 

She kept thinking about fungus.

It was a strange and kind of terrible thing to focus on, all mushy parts and bright colors to indicate poison. Jupiter had never been much of an outdoorsy girl—she’d always been too focused on the stars overhead—but she knew without a doubt that she’d hate camping, that if she’d attended a public high school any environmental classes would have been a pain, and hell, she wouldn’t touch the mushrooms in her salad with a ten-foot pole. But here she was, imagining oozing, bulbous fungi in the comfort of Stinger’s home. Jupiter knew why too. It was one of the endless, cardinal rules passed down to her on how to properly clean a home:

‘Never touch a man’s shower with bare anything,’ her mom had emphasized. ‘Hands, feet—nothing! You’ll pick up their fungeses.’

As Jupiter got older, wiser perhaps, she kind of wanted to interrogate her mom about that particular bit of advice. When exactly do you think I’m gonna be barefoot in a customer’s shower? What if it’s a woman’s? Is this a gender thing? And hey, are you going to bite my head off if I remind you that the English plural of ‘fungus’ is ‘fungi’?

She’d always chickened out though, mothers would do that to you, but it didn’t mean Jupiter had forgotten any of those useless rules that had been drilled into her head. This one certainly reverberated as she sat in the bath of Stinger’s modest shower.

Somehow, strangely, this felt more intimate than all the sleepovers and shared meals combined. It was necessary though, not the least because Jupiter was pretty sure she wasn’t going to contract any cross-species space germs from taking a load off. She’d gotten into the shower, turned on the water, and promptly decided that standing was just Too Much.

Everything felt a bit Too Much nowadays.

With a groan Jupiter rested her head on her knees, just letting the water pound over her back and push her hair into her eyes. The dust from their little excursion had long washed away and some of the tension Jupiter had built up was actually easing too. Stinger’s bathroom, like the rest of the house, smelled of honey, and if Jupiter strained her ears she could just make out the sound of him grumbling about his corn field downstairs. It was familiar and oddly soothing.

That is, until a massive crash sounded beside her.

“Shit.”

Jupiter’s hand shot out, pulling the shower curtain aside just enough to stick her head through. She glared at Guano who had, astoundingly, managed to knock everything off the counter.

She paused in the act of reaching for a wayward deodorant stick. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Jupiter sighed.

It wasn’t as if she particularly wanted a seven-foot bat splice with a massive wingspan crammed into the bathroom with her, but sometimes things just worked out that way. Guano and the Stingers had gotten along famously when their biggest conflict was how best to embarrass Jupiter. When Guano proclaimed herself a new guard though? Well, things had gotten a little hairy. Or perhaps ‘fury’ was the more appropriate term, given present company.

“You’re doing what now?” Stinger had said, voice oddly soft compared to his normally gruff nature. It wasn’t soothing though. Guano seemed to be the only one not picking up on the change in tone.

She didn’t even spare Stinger a glance, just kept herself down on one knee until Jupiter made a frantic gesture for her to rise. And no, she definitely hadn’t picked that one up from Star Trek episodes where the confident, capable captains got to intone “At ease!” to all their subordinates. Jupiter was more of a Kirk kind of gal anyway: lack of formality all around. To her relief Guano stood immediately, though she still kept her wings and arms folded in the approximation of a parade rest.

Stinger, Caine, and Kiza had all saddled up behind her.

“You left Kalique?” Kiza said incredulously.

Caine shook his head, clearly not buying it. “You were released by Kalique?”

“If that had happened she’d have been sent back to her brood,” Stinger muttered. Jupiter noted that he still had one hand resting lightly on his gun.

Jupiter spread her arms, a gesture of peace. “Oh hey, look, Guano is right here. How about we just ask her, hmm?”

Guano inclined her head in thanks. It was easily the most sophisticated gesture Jupiter had seen from her, and she could suddenly picture how a hulking, over-excited splice like Guano might serve someone as refined as Kalique. She could see it easily now, and it felt like the world titled on its axis.

Then Guano grinned, teeth flashing, and everything fell back into place.

“I wasn’t released,” she said. “And I didn’t abandon her Ladyship.” Guano glared fiercely at Kiza. “I was gifted to Her Majesty.”

What.

“Gifted...?” Jupiter said slowly.

“Yes! To you, of course.”

What.

“Dammit,” Caine muttered and caught Jupiter around the waist just as she blew a gasket.

It was, in retrospect, not her finest moment, but there was only so much crazy a woman could take before she needed to let off some steam. Jupiter certainly wasn’t yelling at Guano--she was the victim here, right?—but she might have directed her frustration at the party more broadly, only dimly aware of them nodding compulsively like they’d heard it all before (which they had). Who the hell did Kalique think she was? (“An Abrasax, Your Majesty.”) You can’t just give away people! (“We’re not people, Your Majesty.”) Splices. You know I mean ‘people’ more broadly, Kiza. (“Yeah, I know, and it’s appreciated... but she can actually do that.”) No she can’t! (“It’ll be alright, Your Majesty.”)

It wasn’t alright and sometimes Jupiter wanted to rip her hair out at the blasé attitude of her friends—her family. A part of her got that she was just one newbie trying to comment on a system they’d lived in their whole lives, that had existed for generations... a larger part just wanted them to admit that they were angry about it all, even once. Instead they settled on something in between: Jupiter admitting that temper tantrums weren’t going to get anything done around here; Stinger, Caine, Kiza, and a now confused Guano giving her kind looks for the tantrum in the first place.

Even if it set her teeth on edge, Jupiter let Guano explain that, yes, she’d been gifted to her by Kalique. That she’d noticed how well the two of them got along and intended it as a gesture of goodwill before their dinner tonight. Jupiter asked sarcastically if she was supposed to give a gift in turn. Could it be a hard right hook?

That should have been the end of it. Kalique was obviously up to something, but there was only so much they could do here and now. And of course Guano could stay, serve, whatever... except...

“Her Majesty already has a royal guard,” Stinger had said, eyes narrowed. Guano had faced him with ease.

“Oh?”

“Yes. Caine is her first guard, her mate. I am her second. My daughter, her third.”

“Three’s a good number,” Kiza said.

“So is four,” Guano countered.

“I like four,” Jupiter said. Literally no one was listening to her.

Stinger had come even closer, nearly nose-to-nose with Guano. “How do we know we can really trust you? That you aren’t still loyal to Kalique?”

“How do you know I won’t break you for suggesting such a thing?” Guano closed the distance, breathing straight across Stinger’s cheek. “Bats sometimes eat bees, you know.”

“Oh boy,” Jupiter murmured.

“Shit,” she said now, repeating Guano’s choice of phrase and looking at the mess that was Stinger’s bathroom floor. That wasn’t going to endear him to the new addition. Guano was still frozen with guilt, grabbing onto that deodorant stick like a lifeline. With a sigh Jupiter pulled the shower curtain under her chin and tried to soften her expression.

“It’s fine,” she stressed, even though things kind of weren’t.

The four of them had continued bickering all the way back to the house in a manner Jupiter was more inclined to label as reminiscent of ‘sibling rivalry’ than ‘arch nemesis,’ but that didn’t mean it didn’t grate on her nerves. It just wasn’t cute when they had Kalique to deal with. First stolen honey, a fox splice in broad daylight, then changing their location, now Guano as a goddamn ‘gift’...none of it was adding up, yet all of it was turning Jupiter’s stomach. She’d padded upstairs to make herself presentable and had gotten Guano as a stray. Though Jupiter couldn’t blame her. Stinger had probably threatened her out of the living room with a spatula or something.

“I’m too big for this house,” Guano said, sweeping everything up with her wings and dumping it into the sink. Jupiter hummed an acknowledgement.

“I sometimes feel too small for this universe,” she said.

“You are rather small, even for a human.”

“Pff. Thanks, Guano. I think.”

Jupiter had never put much stock in modesty (sharing a single bathroom with a family as big as hers, she didn’t have the luxury), so she just left the curtain open a bit and finally got down to the actual cleaning business. She still didn’t bother to stand though, just grabbed a bar of soap (milk and honey, what else?) and got to work. Guano watched with detached curiosity.

“What’s she like?” Jupiter asked, soaping up her legs. Stinger had been kind enough to lay out a new razor.

Guano tilted her head. Long ears pointed towards her, just like Caine’s did sometimes. “Who, Your Majesty?”

“Kalique.”

“Oh! Well, she’s an Abrasax. She’s beautiful and rich and powerful and—”

“And encourages everyone to repeat those things about her,” Jupiter interrupted. “C’mon. What’s she really like? You can be honest.”

Jupiter wasn’t sure a splice like Guano, bred and raised for loyalty could really be ‘honest’ in the way she was looking for. Then again, bats weren’t known for their loyalty, not like wolves or bees, and Jupiter definitely caught a glimpse of... something in Guano’s eyes. She folded her wings, crossed her booted legs over the toilet, and leaned her whole bulk precariously over the edge. It put her just a few inches from Jupiter, though she experienced none of the tension she felt when Guano had faced off against Stinger.

“I can tell you three things, Your Majesty,” she whispered, “and you can do what you want with them. Yeah?”

Jupiter leaned forward as well, arms crossed over the tub’s rim. “Alright.”

Guano’s fingers were longer than a human’s, nearly black and so thin they could probably be used as weapons. She held three of them out, poised near Jupiter’s chin.

“One: I worked for Her Ladyship for nearly thirty years and she sent me on many, many missions, but she didn’t bother to learn my name, rank, or capabilities until she sent me after you.” A finger curled into her palm. “Two: The previous dinner we attended was the most relaxed I’ve ever seen Her Ladyship. And three: She may not have fought in the war as I have, but she is one of their fiercest warriors I’ve ever encountered.”

Jupiter nodded slowly. She could see that. Kalique had always fought with brains rather than brawns, and it made her that much more dangerous. “Thanks, Guano.”

“I’m very happy to be serving you, Your Majesty.”

Cupping her hand, Jupiter caught some of the water and flicked it at her. Guano spluttered, the fur on her face wet, clearly not knowing how to respond. Jupiter pinned her with a serious look.

“You know you don’t have to serve me, right? If you don’t want to. You’re always free to go.”

“But I do! Want to be here, I mean. Not go. Not if you’ll have me.”

“Even if it rubs Stinger the wrong way?”

Guano grinned. “Especially then.”

“Figures,” and Jupiter flung a bit more water at her. Guano’s whole body ruffled and she ended up knocking more things off the counter. Jupiter finished washing as she cursed.

It was while she was re-rolling the toilet paper that Guano suddenly stopped, hunched her wings over her shoulders protectively, and seemed to hesitate about what to say next. When she did finally speak it was with her face turned away from Jupiter and the lines of her back hard as iron:

“Also, I... I’m very sorry about your pup,” she said quietly.

Jupiter shivered, the water on her back suddenly feeling cold. Yeah, she was sorry too. Sorry enough that she’d been trying not to think about washing Balem in this very room... though never so sorry that she’d get over how everyone acted like he’d died instead of just growing the hell up.

Then again, if you lost every piece of who you were when that happened, was it really any different?

“God.” Jupiter tilted her head back and let the water pound against her eyes. “I’m...” What? There were too many things to say and not enough ways to say them. “I’m sorry for you too. The war.”

Guano took the peace offering, turning back her way. A bit of toilet paper was caught on her wing. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And if I’m owning up to my own ignorance here, uh... what war was that exactly?”

“Ha!” Guano smiled again, even if it was tinged with something darker. “That is funny. It’s a big universe, Your Majesty, and I’ve fought my fair share. The question you want is which war.”

“...that’s not a conversation I need to have right now.”

“You humans say something else funny... yes! ‘You’re not drunk enough for this,’ right?”

Jupiter chuckled, nodding. “We’ll fix that one of these days.”

“Not me.”

“Wait, can splices not get drunk?”

“None of us can.”

Jupiter looked up, finding Caine standing ramrod straight in the doorway. He’d done away with his weaponry and stripped down to just a tank, jeans, and boots—looking mighty fine, if Jupiter had to put a label on him. His expression was a little sour though as he surveyed Guano and Guano’s mess.

He was also carrying a massive box which... okay.

“You,” he said to Guano. “Out.”

Guano deliberately looked to Jupiter. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, go on. Go bug Kiza for me.”

“Of course, Your Majesty!”

Guano left—deliberately bumping into Caine on her way, turning to give Jupiter a wink—and then it was just the two of them, finally alone.

Jupiter stretched her legs and thought about fungi. She thought she got it now though. Something in her life was definitely growing... she just wasn’t sure if it was poisonous or not yet.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” Caine echoed.

Jupiter beckoned him to her and, like always, he came.

[hoganandmaryjo]

Avignon & Cassis, France

As soon as we crossed the border between Switzerland and France, the landscape changed. As we rode the train from Geneva to Lyon, and then on to Avignon, we left the left the coziness of the grey mountains and entered a landscape made of limestone, marked by rough vertical bluffs and large, lazy rivers that meandered through the hills. Each hill had a small castle or old stone structure topping it, all surrounded by vegetation that grew sparser and more mediterranean as we reached the south of France. The city of Avignon, where we were meeting Evelyn and Bill, Hogan’s mom and stepdad, has a continuous history of human settlement beginning in neolithic times roughly 4,000 years ago and including Phoenicians, Romans, Visigoths and Ostrogoths, the Franks, many kingdoms, and was home to nine Popes beginning in the 14th century. After our long train journey, made even longer due to the rail strike in France, we arrived and walked around the edge of the medieval city to meet Evelyn and Bill in a spacious flat near a main entrance to the old city.

It was a surprise treat to meet Evelyn and Bill on this trip. We had discussed the possibility before leaving California, but it wasn’t until a little over a month before that they had confirmed and bought their tickets. They flew into France early, spending some time vacationing together before meeting us for a little less than a week. Bill was celebrating the beginning of his retirement after a lifetime of hard work, and this was one of the longest vacations they had both taken in a while. Evelyn had been following our trip closely, and it was special to share some of it together.

Southern France is a cycling mecca, so we knew we wanted to ride while we were there. Evelyn rented us four nice road bikes for our days in Avignon, and we headed out on two separate days to explore the countryside. Hogan led the group through the narrow cobblestone streets of the old town and beyond, along paved paths beside vineyards, dirt trails next to the Rhone River, and busier streets connecting cities. We tested the bikes out on a shorter ride through the outskirts of Avignon, passing old castles and ancient ruins on the way, and after some trial and error learned the best way to navigate back through the medieval city center to our apartment. There are many destinations around Avignon that are tailor-made for a day of riding, but the total distances of these rides, at around 45 kilometers, were a little more than what Evelyn and Bill were comfortable doing. We all discussed the options after our first ride but in the end it was clear we had to try for the longer distance. How often, after all, do you find yourself in the south of France in beautiful weather on road bikes?

We rode to the Pont du Gard, a monumental Roman aqueduct that spans an emerald green river about 20 kilometers outside of Avignon. It’s a stunning piece of engineering and was part of a system built in the first century AD that moved water more than 50 kilometers from a natural spring to the Roman colony of Nimes. We parked our bikes and walked across the span, admiring the workmanship and knowledge required to build something so lasting (it was in use for 500 years before it failed). It is hard to comprehend how long it had loomed over the river valley and the feat of engineering needed to create it nearly two millennia ago. The area is a destination for locals and tourists alike, who spend the day laying in the sun on the banks of the river and swimming in the cool water. After hours of riding in the heat that sounded wonderful, but we had to keep moving to make it back to Avignon before dark. We picnicked under the shade of a tree overlooking the scene - a very temporary piece of greenery compared to the Pont du Gard. We rode back along the same route, whisked quickly along by a welcome tailwind the whole way. Evelyn and Bill rose to the occasion, completing the day without any problems. We celebrated our ride back at the apartment, especially Bill who took a very well deserved nap while we made dinner.

From the 1300s to 1790, Avignon was home to nine Popes. We were surprised to learn that the Vatican wasn’t always where the leader of the Catholic Church lived. Avignon has restored the former Papal Palace, and we were excited to go see it on our last morning in the city. Hogan and MaryJo went solo while Evelyn and Bill got ready to go to our next stop in France. We got a free interactive tablet and audioguide tour with our tickets, and it was incredibly well done, guiding us through the buildings and showing what various rooms looked like back in the 1300s using augmented reality. The palace was huge, made of grey stone, and despite the heat outside, it was cool as we wandered through the vast rooms. The compound had been expanded upon many times over the years, and is very complicated. We saw large halls, chapels with tall vaulted ceilings, the treasury room with hidden spaces underground where they kept the important documents and money, and the Pope’s own chamber. The former kitchen was particularly impressive - it was a simple room that extended two stories upwards to a small opening at the top, making the whole structure a chimney. All the food was cooked in the center around an enormous fire, and the smoke went out the top of the ceiling. While the whole palace wasn’t particularly religious feeling, it was powerful to see frescos on the walls and intact original decorations on wooden ceilings dating back to the early 1300s. Like everything we have seen that is that old, it is very hard to imagine how it continues to exist for centuries.

After our tour of the Papal Palace we piled into Evelyn and Bills rental car and hit the road towards the Mediterranean and our next destination: the small port town of Cassis. Hogan dusted off his driving skills and guided the vehicle through beautiful countryside and down narrow lanes to the rocky coast towards Cassis, which is located on a steep hillside that rises quickly from the water. Our flat was minutes from the port, and after filling the small space with our bags we strolled along the waterfront past the fishing boats and on to the beach. The town was busy with tourists buying ice cream and boarding boats to visit the famous calanques (which are like small fjords) in the national park surrounding it. It is a beautiful place, almost entirely made out of a local tan-colored limestone that if you look closely, is marked with the pattern of ancient sea shells. We settled into a sidewalk cafe overlooking the water to plan our next steps.

We had spent a good amount of time in Avignon going restaurants only to discover they were closed. Determined not to repeat this experience, MaryJo booked a table for four at a newer seafood restaurant for the evening called Angelina. The four of us strolled in for our reservation prepared to order the bouillabaisse, the famous Provencal fish stew originating from this area. The waiter looked at us quizzically, since it turns out you need to order the stew 24 hours in advance so they can get freshly caught fish. Things are done differently in France. We had a delicious and fun meal nonetheless - salted whole fish with Cassis white wine - seated in an open courtyard underneath a potted olive tree. Two nights later we returned, having ordered the bouillabaisse well in advance this time. It was a feast of many different kinds of fish, which they showed us before and after cooking for our approval. None of us could finish our portions.

Like almost everywhere in France, Cassis is known for its wine. In particular, the Cassis AOC produces 75-80 percent dry white wine, which is unique when compared to the area around it, known mostly for rose. (AOC stands for appellation d'origine contrôlée, or protected designation of origin, which certifies wines, cheeses and other French products are from where they say they’re from and upheld to a certain standard specific to that area.) It is also unique in that there are only 12 operating Cassis domains, or wineries, under this AOC. Though every bar and restaurant in the small town was serving Cassis wines, we wanted to go try some at the wineries ourselves and booked a tour with a winery right on the coast, Clos Sainte Magdeleine. Before even arriving at the winery, we learned that wine tasting there is much different than the enormous tourism industry of California’s Napa and Sonoma regions. Other than the one place we were able to book a tour, the domains held weird hours, and despite our attempts to call, make online reservations, or even just show up at the front gate, they simply aren’t open for tasting in the same way we are used to. Nonetheless, the tour at Clos Sainte Magdeleine was fantastic, with a knowledgeable guide and a beautiful setting. We learned that although the AOC highly regulates the production, irrigation, taste, etc. of the wine, they do not regulate what vessel the wine is stored in before bottling. This domain used a combination of stainless steel and, surprisingly, egg-shaped concrete vats, not the oak barrels we expected from France. In a small-world experience, we also learned that their biggest U.S. importer, Kermit Lynch, is based just down the street from where Bill and Evelyn live in Berkeley. We all took some bottles to go, happy that our determination to visit the domain paid off.

Our trip to Cassis wouldn’t be complete with our own visit to the calanques and on our last day we got up early, put on our swimsuits, and got into kayaks. We launched from a small rocky cove just south of Cassis in five boats: Hogan and MaryJo in one, Evelyn and Bill in another, and our guide and his brother each in their own individual kayaks. As we left the enclosed water and rounded a rocky outcropping into the Mediterranean, the water stayed smooth and glassy as far as we could see. We asked the guide if this was normal and he laughed - we had gotten lucky - a very clear and calm morning, perfect for kayaking. Our half-day trip took us north past Cassis and into three different calanques that each were subtly different. Though you can walk to each calanque and look out at the sea, we felt good to be on the water instead, taking in the limestone cliffs rising from the water close up. Even more interesting was the view we had peering down the cliffs, through the clear water to the sandy sea floor. The limestone is sharp and rough, and naturally forms long ledges that slope into the water, the stone slowly breaking into large rectangular boulders over time. Between bouts of paddling, we rested in the clear waters and watched small fish swim through the seagrass below. Later, we stopped and swam (even though the water was pretty cold) at a secluded beach where the even taller cliffs attracted rock climbers, who hung on to ropes around us. The waters got busier as the day went on, mostly with larger motor boats filled with other tourists, and we paddled back to shore tired but feeling rejuvenated after the day out at sea.

Our short visit to France was well worth it, but we were excited as we boarded an early train to Barcelona the next morning. It had been a busy five days with Evelyn and Bill, and we were happy to be returning to our own schedule as we began the final few weeks of this long trip. We would see family again soon enough. After visiting nine countries, Spain would be our last stop.