#she's helped by a fisherman who takes her across the lake

[narsh-poptarts]

"I don't know about comets, but I can catch stars! Their reflections are right here in the lake. See?"

"That's really beautiful, but that's not what I mean... I'm trying to catch an actual comet, not its reflection."

[queenlucythevaliant]

Much Ado

Aravis did not argue fair. She didn’t row fair either, but this wasn’t a row. Not yet.

“If you receive the Lagour delegation thus, you are a greater fool than your father. He has not had your dealings with Calormen; you ought to be able to smell a rat, after living in a rat’s house for twelve years of your life!”

Cor grit his teeth. Horrible, canny woman.

“An intelligent rat must still be handled with care if he has something you want. I cannot welcome them with open suspicion if I hope to strike an arrangement. Besides, Rabadash will not act against us, and Lagour cannot act without Rabadash’s blessing.”

“There are ways for them to move against us that Rabadash cannot prevent. Ways apart from war. Ignorant boy!”

You always end with a jade’s trick. I know you of old.

And there it was. Aravis, with her imperious looks and her elegant accent, was the only person in the world who could still make him feel like Shasta, the smelly fisherman’s boy. Every time she spoke to him like that, it felt like all this time he had only been pretending to breathe.

He gathered himself a moment later and stalked out of the room all a-fury.

.

That evening in the garden, as dusk was crosshatching itself across the sky, Aravis overheard Cor tell his brother he loved her. It was nearly lost in the bluster of Cor calling her a dozen unpleasant names and pointing out with stinging acuity every one of her many faults. Nearly lost, but not. Aravis heard him and suddenly she was thrown from her axis.

And she is exceedingly wise. / In everything but loving you.

She herself had, perhaps, been a little in love with Cor before then in some unrealized, childish way. But that evening, when she heard Cor say in his own voice exactly what he thought of her, Aravis glimpsed for the first time the whole of his moral arrogance, his defensive self-righteousness, and his vitriol. For the first time since coming to Archenland, she looked at her best friend through the branches of the topiary and thought, “how horrible you are.” An instant later, another thought followed it: “I love you too.”

It was true. She knew it was true.

Cor, love on; I will requite thee.

.

When the negotiations with Lagour went askew, Cor fled to the little chapel beside the lake. It was a summer afternoon, scorched and listless, and he could not stand to be in the castle an instant more.

Bree said that Narnia had no chapels. In Narnia, Aslan was worshipped in cozy burrows, round supper tables, and on sunlit hills beneath the sky; no special building was required. Archenland was different.

He was sitting on a pew beneath the stone roof wondering how the disaster could have been avoided when Aravis wandered in. She came in quietly and sat beside him, and although Cor would have much preferred to be alone, he did not begrudge her company.

Aravis listened to him rage about the awful unfairness of it all. “You must learn to say no,” she said gently.

Cor huffed. “I say no quite often.”

“Yes, but you must learn to say a no that really means no. Typically, your no just means ‘not until you’ve badgered me about it enough to wear me down.’”

“Perhaps the rest of the world must simply learn to take my no for what it is.”

Aravis laughed then, gesturing to herself. “Am I included then? In ‘the rest of the world’?”

“No.”

“I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?”

“No. You are canny and hot-tempered and imperious. Never strange.”

.

Everything worked out in the end; this is a comedy after all. They tricked the Lagour delegation into accepting their terms, with more than a little help from Providence to ease their way. Before long, they were back to arguing.

Aravis called him ignorant, but there was no bite in it now. “What, my dear Lady Distain?” retorted Cor, with a twinkle in his eye.

Corin had meant for Aravis to overhear him talking with Cor in the garden that night, to no one’s astonishment. It was a childish prank, but it was done in love, and so love blossomed from it.

“But for which of my good parts did you first suffer love for me?”

“Suffer love! A good epithet. I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will.”

“In spite of your heart, I think. Alas, poor heart, if you spite it for my sake, I will spite it for yours, for I will never love that which my friend hates.” Aravis leaned in close, her gaze turning tender by grades.

Cor smiled. “Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.”

Somewhere else in the garden, Corin was laughing, but they paid him no mind.

[skaterboyfriend]

stardew headcanons - twin peaks edition

HELLO all! with the little amount of free time i have, i've been binging twin peaks - a very quirky show about an fbi agent coming into a small, otherwise very normal and humble town, and quickly realizing just what lurks under the surface... being the city girl i am, i've always longed for what it would be like to live in such a rural town, getting to know the townsfolk, falling in love with the small things it provides... and solving murders of course! anyway, naturally i'm going to want to compare it to stardew valley... see below!

note: name credit to @angelsdelicate because her name headcanons are literally top tier! <3

THE TOWNSFOLK

*the sheriff, shane jackson, a man who's got his heart in the right place but he himself finds that easy to forget, leads the valley's sheriff department, along with its deputies: deputy samson carmichael, lovable but rather simple-minded and deputy sebastian hawthorne, quick and quiet. and don't forget about miss penelope routier, the lovely secretary that deputy carmichael seems to be head over heels for, and mr. demetrius darnell, the local scientist that helps with forensics and autopsies. the team usually deals with the mundane lost pets and cheating spouses- imagine their surprise upon the telephone call from the local fisherman, willy lyons, about a body floating in the lake...

*the stardrop saloon, owned by augustus chandra, is always lively and bustling with folks in and out. they are known county-wide for their homely diner-style meals and strong black coffee, along with their lovely waitresses: emily calvin, a young woman with the brightest smile in town, and jodi laurent, older than her counterpart but with just as enough pep. jodi's husband, kent richards, currently is awaiting his parole hearing, hoping to be able to make it back to the valley after his year in prison- jodi wishing desperately he doesn't get it.

*and with every small town, there's always an ultra-rich tycoon waiting for the next buck- the valley's very own mr. pierre rosenburg, with the wife, caroline, and the daughter, young abigail. mrs. rosenburg barely recognizes her husband anymore and doesn't bother with the shady deals he does in the dark- but abigail is determined to take him down, doing her own sleuthing on what her father really is up to when he leaves for his many business trips.

*the local high school is rather small and underfunded, but the students there feel loved and closely knit. everyone knows everyone else. among the few hundred, there's the expected valedictorian, maru darnell, with her outstanding academic record and eager commitment to do great, alexander mullner, the football team's star quarterback who seems to love getting in trouble with girls, and abigail rosenburg, the beautiful and cunning daughter of local businessman mr. pierre rosenburg.

*there's the small hospital, led by doctor harvey mccarthy MD and helped by many nurses, such as mrs. pamela wilson RN. the two have their own baggage- dr. mccarthy having abruptly moved here after nearly a decade of work in a city across the country, unwilling to state why, and nurse wilson battling an addiction to alcohol, wanting to get better for her estranged daughter...

*there's young miss haley o'henry, who dropped out of high school in senior year to marry trucker clint o'henry, unfortunate enough to get coerced by his seemingly empty promises to provide for her, leaving out how he in the end just wanted a maid he didn't have to pay for. while he's out making 'deliveries' [which she highly suspects isn't the case], she lets alex mullner come over to give her the attention she desires so much - not even trying to think about the consequences if clint ever found out. she dreams of alex saving her from her mistake of a marriage.

*some other oddballs in the town include linus wickerson, a quiet man who seems to live in the forest, only coming out to the saloon every once in a while for a hot cocoa, mrs. leah white, a shut-in artist who refuses to leave her home after the unexpected death of her wife, and elliott mariposa, the valley's paper editor- eccentric and keen to many of the town's residents' secrets.

*sheriff jackson knew things were becoming far too much for small-town cops like him and his team. and with that, a new person popped into town, dressed professionally with a clean haircut and fancy shoes - an air of deductive intellect to them... they shook hands with the team, deputies hawthorne and carmichael sharing a suspicious look upon the newest addition to the department, and with a smile, said: let's get started! [insert your farmer here!]

THE RELATIONSHIPS

*penny and sam had a few flings throughout the time they've worked together- penny thinks he's rather handsome in his uniform and sam loves her sparkling green eyes- however, the two both don't know what to do with themselves when they are alone, sam being rather shy and penny believing men need to step up and make the first move. eventually penny realizes sam just might not be very mature and she sees the writer elliott, who gives an air of extreme maturity and haughtiness that rather turns off penny, but she's trying to send a hint to sam to fight for her, so she continues to see him despite not being in tune with her. sebastian catches on to this office romance, stopping sam in the hallway- what are you doing? fight for her! and staring down elliott whenever he has the chance!

*kent had been involved in an accident, sending him in for 2 years, with parole. jodi never truly loved him, having married him out of spite to her rather controlling parents and running off with him in hopes he'd take her to better place. instead, he got caught drunk driving and sent to prison, leaving her a waitress barely making ends meet for herself. the only thing that keeps her motivated to live another day is caroline- with her husband out so often, the two came together lamenting their lives, having expected it to be so different when they were younger. the two would share a bottle of wine on weekends while her daughter at a friend's and husband out of town on some business trip- one night things had escalated with the two finding themselves in the same bed, not wanting to get up and stay in each other's arms! the two make plans of leaving their husbands but that's all they are- plans for another life.

*clint wasn't always this unshaven, hot-headed, greasy trucker- he had money and loved to spend it on shiny things- a fancy corvette, slick boots, a leather jacket- upon seeing how laid-back and free haley was, he simply thought it'd be easy to get her under his roof with his expensive car and wads of cash, to fold his laundry, wash the dishes... when she saw him for what he really was, she began to hate herself for getting caught up with such a deadbeat- cutting off her parents, dropping out of class, halting her entire life for this man that she couldn't stand to look at. he'd be so nasty to her the days he was home, the days he wasn't providng some relief to haley. she'd have alex come over, meeting him through clint no less- alex'd help clint with local deliveries- and would dream of how he'd be a far better husband to her, a far better lover!

*pierre had been a hotshot in his prime years, thinking he still is something women swoon over in his late-forties. his lack of self-awareness allowed for his ego to be inflated through the purchasing of a certain gentlemen's club up north- he chases after its young women employees, using up their young girlish charms as vitality to keep himself afloat... without their sweet words, suggestive touches, and nights where he can feel young again, he'd be bored- as simple as that!

AND THE MURDER

the town's sheriff department received a phone call one morning on february 24th, a body being found washed up ashore by the local fishermen, willy talking to sheriff jackson with a quivering voice. the boys take a trip to the pier, deputy carmichael sobbing as he takes photos of the young woman's body- nothing like this had ever happen in this small town. overcome with sadness, shane makes the call to the parents of miss delilah lalune [my farmer], the victim, to their unparalleled grief. the whole town mourned her together, her absence having an impact upon every nook and cranny of the town. her closest friends made it their mission to find what really happened to her- they knew she was in some sort of trouble but never in their wildest dreams thought it'd turn out like this and that and that and this- questioning suspects and analyzing clues- unearthing the story, it getting even deeper and deeper, with more dark and perverse parts of society coming out to the light...

[reidecorating]

Not Just Today, but Forever

A/N: This absolutely was not requested, I was just watching 14 x 06 and the only thing my eyes could focus on was Matthew Gubler looking like he forgot he was needed for filming that day and shaved that morning with a ridged cucumber, in the dark (spoiler: patchy ass beard) but I guess we can thank him in a way because this came out of it <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6k-ish words of pure fluff

Summary: Stalling on going to work because prioritising your pretty boyfriend and sleeping in is far more inviting - along with shaving his face for him.

Warnings: None, just some steamy smooches

It was the far from languid tone of his alarm that hooked through his ears and, from a blanket navy darkness, reeled Spencer Reid into the waking realm as if he were a flounder found floating too close to a fisherman’s pier in a high morning tide. He hastily reached a stiff hand to meet his eyes, joints inharmoniously clicking, forcing them open - only after he had rubbed them hard enough to see invisible neon swirls painting his eyelids. He let out a yawn and reached for the buzzing clock. It was an old thing he’d found while antiquing once, having picked it up thinking its faded sage green would bring life to the mahogany catacomb of his room. He never thought the body occupying the right side of his bed, no doubt buried in a larger portion of sheets than he currently was, would do exactly that, instead. Slowly turning onto an aching shoulder, he faced the woman sprawled out beside him, clearly unbothered by the racket of alarm bells. He admired her for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall, the shadow of her smile chasing away the dark of night. Spencer’s heart grew fonder than he thought was possible at the way she stirred, leaning in his direction, yearning to be closer to him even when they were separated by sleep. Fingers parting the tangle of hair splayed across silk pillowcases - some of which he was sure had reached his mouth - he tucked it behind her ears, noticing the slight twitching of her nose subside as the tickling strands were now out of the way. Finally, Spencer planted a kiss on the apple of her cheek, fondly letting his lips linger just long enough so as to not wake her too soon.

Routine was something Spencer never kept to. The unpredictability of his life, which primarily haunted him from the second he strapped a gun to his hip and walked out the door, never left much space for it; the badge only showed that he was a protector - not protected. So, the hum of an electric toothbrush, and the grumble of a coffee machine sandwiching his simple morning cycle had become a convention he’d come to adore. Tiptoeing to shut the bathroom door, now half dressed in an incorrectly buttoned dress shirt, some boxers and one green sock, Spencer smiled to himself at the way her forehead was the only thing he could now make out beneath the sheets. Lifting the blanket, he lay back down beside her, feeling indifferent towards the creases he was aware were forming on the ironed fabric on his shoulders. He nudged her jaw with his nose. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty, it’s time to get up,” Spencer giggled as she let out a groan in annoyance at his attempt to get her out of bed. “Aurora was awoken with a kiss, you need to step up your game, doctor,” she opened one eye briefly to squint at him, shutting it again and pointing her nose along with comically puckered lips in the air. “Aurora was also asleep for a hundred years, and last time I checked, you were not,” he reasoned, deliberately avoiding her request. “She was lucky, ‘m so tired,” she nuzzled her head into his chest, sighing softly as she basked in the warmth he provided, ignoring the strength of his newly applied cologne. Spencer’s hands were nearly gravitating towards his phone, fully prepared to dial in sick, and convince her to do the same. “I let you snooze for a few extra minutes,” he spoke lowly, almost believing if he spoke too loud the rest of the world would wake up, interrupting what momentarily belonged to the two of them. “You were smiling in your sleep, I didn’t want to wake you,”

“Mhm, but y’should’ve,” the upturned heel of her hand stretched away from her and into the air, words jumbling together as they left her mouth, “you’re much better than’ny dream I’ve ever had,” she reached out to tousle his hair. “Oh! I’m so sorry, you’ve already done your hair,” her eyes widened before she grimaced and attempted to pat it all back down. Spencer couldn’t help himself, his smile reaching hers before their lips melded together. The hand that his head wasn’t propped on, dug through the heavy duvet to find the bone of her hip, tracing it lightly as his lips trailed along the column of her throat, careful not to leave marks.

Knowing they both had places to be, she stopped him before they travelled past a point of no return. “You hate morning breath?”

“My love for you outweighs it,” his lips hovered over hers, fluttering against them as he spoke. “Mm, poetic,” she finally caught them between hers again, the soft heat of his mouth on hers waking her up more efficiently than a shower. “Did you know that if you snore or breathe through your mouth at night, you’re more likely-“

“To have bad breath in the morning than those who don’t? Yes, Spencer, you’ve told me this before… Once or twice.” He kissed her again. “But did you know that one in two people sleep with their mouth open? All I’m saying is that I do not, so I’ll leave the rest of the deductions up to you, my genius boy.” He let out a huff of laughter, tongue pushing at the inside of his cheek as he shook his head. He hoped his eyes could say the things he couldn’t quite communicate out loud. Brown, she observed. The green in them would be brought back when the sun fully rose, only for its brightness to be put to shame by his smile. Her fingernails delicately raked along his jaw, eventually gathering at his chin, cautiously tilting his confused head from side to side. “What’re you up to?” He asked, face scrunching up in curiosity. Examining it as well as she could in the early light, she trailed her thumb away from the corner of his mouth, unshaven stubble its compass. “You missed a spot,” she noted, unabashedly examining his celestial features. Spencer raised a brow, “I may have been distracted by the beautiful girl in my bed,”

“You may be smooth, lover boy, but this beard of yours certainly isn’t,” she teased, blushing slightly. He brought up his own hand to feel at the light bristles. Defeated, he stood up in the direction of the bathroom.

Repining for the warmth of his body, having used up all her wild cards in coaxing him back into bed, she followed him to the sink. “Let me get it, please?” She politely asked as he rummaged through the cabinet for some shaving cream. Understanding how he felt about people prodding at him, like vultures to a carcass, she knew she was treading ice of a frozen Spring lake. “Considering I would’ve gone to work looking like this if it weren’t for you,” he motioned to his face with a razor, “Okay,” he nodded. She perched herself on the counter, gasping at the cool marble hitting her exposed thighs. Spencer gave her a look, cheeks red. “I can see the gears turning in your head,” she bit back a grin, pointing a finger at him. “I’m just making sure I can reach your pretty face,”

“I see,” he raised his eyebrows, the supple skin of his hands reaching to spread her knees in order for him to take his place between them. “I just don’t want you to be late to work,” he mumbled, handing you a silver razor. “Don’t worry, I’m always early. It’ll be good to let everyone think I have a life, for once,”

“I know what you mean, there was once a rumour that I actually slept beneath the BAU round table.” She laughed at that, and it was the sweetest sound to ever reach Spencer’s ears. She swirled the foam between her hands and lathered it onto his face with a feather touch, smitten with a smile at the way he crinkled his nose when his eyes flew shut. “That feels nice,” he hummed, forgetting that the cream tastes unpleasant. “Shh, shaving foam isn’t a good substitute for breakfast,” she hushed. Spencer’s hands played with the hem of her rumpled shirt, before sliding along her torso, while she tentatively worked her way through the small patches of stubble, paying close attention to the underside of his chin. Distractedly, her fingers ran along the scar tissue splayed on his neck. She kissed his temple before her mind travelled to a shadowy place. Every wrong turn had somehow led him right to her, and she needed to remind herself of that. Soon enough, she dabbed a warm cloth across his face, fawning over his beauty under the ruse of admiring her handiwork. Unable to practise self control, she littered small kisses across his cheeks before, once again, painting stamps of love over his smooth jaw, and tugging at his lips with her own, leaving them swollen when he pulled away. “Thank you,” he whispered as his forehead rested against hers, her eyes illuminated in the bathroom light. “I never tell you this enough, but I love you,”

“You’re very welcome, Spencer, and you remind me everyday, even without saying it,” Spencer gently nodded against her, his head having moved to rest against her chest. “I love you to Pluto, Spencer,” she toyed with his scalp, feeling his smile, “but you have to be in by eight, so you need to run,” she informed. He nipped at her clavicle, completely enamoured by the angel sitting on his sink, ignoring time. “I’ll be here when you get back, mister,” she gently squeezed his shoulders. Spencer gazed up at her, a silent ‘Do you promise?’ to which her eyes told him, ‘Not just today, but forever’.

[wing-ed-thing]

Lorem Ipsum (Ino x Foreign!Reader)

Request:

Word Count: 906

Warnings/Tags: Mild Bullying

Notes: So, I don’t know a verbally spoken second language, but I was one of a handful of people in my region to take at 4+ years of Classical Latin and take the AP Latin exam... that counts right? Latin’s not a dead language.

“Thanks for joining us, guys!” Ino happily greeted her team with enthusiastic hugs. You smiled politely in the background, offering handshakes to each of the three men and silently dreading opening your mouth. Anxiety loomed over you like a jacket, but you loved your girlfriend so you were excited to meet the people who meant most to her. Ino introduced you, nearly giggling your name with excitement. She squeezed your hand. “And this is Shikamaru, Choji, and Asuma-sensei.”

“Hello.” You spoke your salutation, your rather thick accent seeping into the single word. You inwardly cringed. Asuma pulled you in by the hand, ripping your touch from Ino. He gave you a friendly slap on the shoulder. You jumped slightly, not used to such a greeting.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Asuma chuckled and you laughed with him. Ino straightened her back and held her head high before proudly announcing that you were from the Land of Water. You looked down at her adoringly, just the slightest bit of weight floating off your chest as you looked into her eyes. Ino always did have an interest in your home country and it warmed your heart to see that she had become just as prideful as you. The two of you missed the thin-lipped looks exchanged between the rest of the team.

“Let’s get inside, I’m hungry!” Choji exclaimed, ushering the group inside.

“So, Water Country, eh?” Shikamaru drawled as you sat down at a table. “What are you doing in the Land of Fire then?” Ino squinted at Shikamaru for his choice of words, but elected to stay quiet.

“I catch fish. I am fisherman.” You nod, same polite but nervous smile forming on your lips. Choji snorted into his water.

“In the Leaf?” Shikamaru locked eyes with you, eyebrows furrowed mockingly.

“You do know that the Leaf is landlocked, right?” Ino sent another glare at her teammate. Shikamaru raised his hands in defense. “What? It’s true. C’mon it’s just a question.” Asume squinted down at the Nara, forearms on the table. Shikamaru rolled his eyes as Choji took to ordering.  

“Many people from the Land of Water are fishermen, it’s a very noble profession.” Ino’s shoulders tensed as she defended you. She stuck her nose up and you couldn’t help the pang of admiration that echoed in your chest.

“And lakes and riwers are man-i here.” You laughed. “I should open restaurant for seafood!”

“Not a ninja, huh?” Asuma mused, leaning back in his seat. You mirrored him, crossing one ankle over your knee.

“I am wary interested in work of Ino. She is far stronger than I.” You grinned widely, giving your bicep a smack in emphasis. Ino looked up at you with a blush, playfully pushing the side of your face away. The waiter approached with your food.

“Well,” She rolled her eyes, “I am.”

“What’s with the ‘w’s, dude?” Choji questioned over the bowl newly placed in front of him. “What are there no ‘v’s now or are we speaking ‘uwu’ language?” Ino perked up again, same fiery glint in her eye and nose striking the same upward angle.

“In fact, the letter ‘v’ doesn’t exist in some dialects in the Land of Water. Neither does the letter ‘j’, or, or the written letter ‘y’, ‘w’, or ‘u’ for that matter.” You could see the red forming under her normally pale complexion. You put a hand on her arm, rubbing your thumb across her smooth wrist. Steam practically poured from her face. “Like really, guys, what is your problem?”

“Jeez, you’re so loud.” Shikamaru complained.

“We’re just having fun, right?” The three men turned to you.

“Ee-es. Good times.” You chirped, trying to put on a brave face for your hot-tempered girlfriend. You squeezed her arm gently and she sat back in her chair. The conversation went on without you.

You knew what the rest of the team thought of you and you couldn’t say that it wasn’t understandable. You looked back at your girlfriend. Ino was absolutely gorgeous and smart and fierce. And on the other hand, you were really a nobody from a foreign land. Of course her team felt the need to be protective of her. And so you admired her for the rest of dinner.

You let out a sigh of relief when the meal was over. Ino held onto your arm as she waved her team goodbye. When you began to walk away, you turned to her. You took in her shining blue eyes.

“To me, e-eu mean world. I want to be good to e-eu.” She stopped, frowning. Her brow furrowed for the umpteenth time that day which made you wonder if you had mistranslated a word. Her touch left you and she placed her hands on her hips, lips curling in a deep pout. Ino lifted a fist to just under her chin. You didn’t bat an eye.

“I swear I’m gonna kill them!” She grumbled, shaking. Your hand came to envelop his and you pulled her into a hug. Ino grumbled into your chest. You leaned down to kiss the area above her ear.

“Amo te, mea lux.” Ino continued to pout, pulling away and looking you deeply in the eye.

“You are enough for you. You are good enough for me.” She planted a light kiss on your lips and you nearly teared up. “And I love you too.”

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries]

Georgia Crews

On the afternoon of the 8th of April, 1980, Georgia’s parents left the family home to go fishing for catfish on Lake Florence with Charles. This was a common occurrence in the Crews household; Mike worked as a commercial fisherman and Lake Florence was literally a stone’s throw from their front door. This day, however, Georgia and Tony both decided to stay at home. At some time between 5:30PM and 6PM that evening, Georgia and Tiger left home to go to the Stop & Go on Country Road 455 where her mother worked. Stop & Go, which was approximately a mile from Georgia’s home, was the only convenience store in the town. Dusk was fast approaching and Georgia was “mortally afraid of the dark” so she wouldn’t be long, she assured her brother.

Georgia was wearing jeans, a tank top, and was barefoot – one of her many quirks. She had wanted to purchase snacks before settling down at her friend’s house to enjoy Kenny Rogers in The Gambler. Georgia never made it to her friend’s house. In fact, she never even made it to the convenience store.

When Georgia didn’t arrive home within an hour, Tony rushed around the neighbourhood calling out her name. Outside, Tiger sat at the crossroad just down the street from their home, refusing to move. When Linda and Mike returned home to find a frantic Tony exclaiming that Georgia hadn’t come home from the shop, they called police. By midnight, a search was already underway. Shoulder to shoulder, the search party, assisted by Georgia’s family, trudged through the woodland and through the orange groves. Lake Florence near the family home was dragged but to no avail.  Investigators called in a bloodhound named “Lt. Bo” who was sent through the surrounding swampland in search of a scent. A search helicopter was sent into the sky for a bird’s eye view. There was no sign of Georgia other than a trail of child-sized footprints in the dusty roadway leading from her home.

With a then-population of just 397, the concerned community rallied together in a desperate attempt to bring Georgia home safely. Almost half of the entire population got involved in the investigation, whether by handing out flyers or physically searching the area. Nobody saw Georgia accompanied by anybody else nor did anybody witness her being forced into a car. Understandably, though, her family couldn’t help but think the worst. It wasn’t like Georgia to just wander off and not return home. Unfortunately, as her parents would soon discover, Georgia would never be returning home.

“Hello… yeah… you know that girl that you looking for… yeah, the twelve year old… yeah… she’s dead,” said the anonymous voice down the line before hanging up.

Just two shorts days after Georgia’s disappearance, her parents received this chilling phone call. Georgia’s grandmother and the town police marshal’s wife also received similar phone calls. The phone calls were never able to be traced and have since been lost.  The family would soon discover the grim phone calls were not a joke: Georgia really was dead.

On the 16th of April, a family of four was taking a shortcut from an apartment complex to a K-Mart near Casselberry, which was approximately 30 miles away from where Georgia disappeared. Along this route, they couldn’t help but notice a pungent smell emanating in the warm spring air. As they inspected where the smell was wafting from, they stumbled across an unimaginable scene. Discarded among the slight woodland and weeds, they discovered the deceased body of Georgia. She was found face up, with one leg bent at the knee. Her body was so decomposed that she needed to be identified by medical and dental records. Her family never had to identify her.

The bubbly fifth-grader had been stabbed once in the back. An autopsy concluded that she hadn’t been sexually assaulted. 

[f0xwrite]

A snippet from Andaman...written circa 2018. (Rated T for alightly mature themes)

The sound of cool, clear waves lapping against the entrance of the cave in the moonlight mixed soothingly with the subdued gusts of the ocean’s tropic breeze, lulling Walter into a sleepy daze. Somewhere in the distance,dolphins still splashed in the frothy brine, their noise mixing strangely with the steady hum of insects, and the haunting call of the occasional bird. A small and dying fire crackled along the edge of his hidden cove, charring the remains of his barely-touched dinner.

He’d given up on trying to summon Morgana. Varied macabre attempts at trying to get her attention had proven futile. It didn’t matter which variety of star-lit ritual she performed, or how many times he said her name, there was never any answer save for the island breeze. He would have done better to stay in Myeik at the Hotel Grand Jade, drinking his weight in the jugs of palm wine he’d bummed off of one of the locals. The hotel was dated, but comfortable. He’d paid for his stay in cold cash--as untraceable as it was uncanny--and from the top floor he’d felt safe enough staking out until he could chart a course to North Sentinel Island. Not many would be willing to take the chance of drawing close enough to the island for him to easily swim ashore, especially at night.

The indigenous peoples of North Sentinel Island were known to be hostile, rejecting all contact with the outside world and killing anyone who stepped foot on their sands. Many had died in the pursuit of aiding or interfering with their lifestyle, or had been arrested by the Indian navy for coming too close. It would take a hefty sum to convince anyone to charter him across. Arriving in his own vessel was not an option—he’d have to sink the boat, and the risk of being spotted in unfamiliar waters was too high. Money wasn’t an object, of course, as long as he’d been around, but people often wanted something less traceable, in case the government came a-looking.

He’d purchased a motorcycle, one with a small enough engine to maneuver easily through the streets, but powerful enough to make a quick getaway if needed--Janus would be on his heels in moments if they caught wind, and he’d been in the hierarchy long enough to know that they were never very far behind. Thus outfitted, he’d traveled, often ferrying to Andaman island to search for the idea hire. To the people there, he looked relatively normal--a traveler, but one well versed in their ways and culture. Instead of his typical brown suit and jumper he wore a light tunic, sandals, and khakis. His hair had grown longer—partially induced by a spell—and the light traces of a beard cast shadows around his face. After years in clean-cut Arcadia, he’d barely recognized himself in the mirror. Barbara, even if she hadn’t been stripped of her memory, would struggle to find familiarity in this new visage.

Barbara.

For every memory Vendel’s incantation had taken from her, his seemed to have increased tenfold. Every impossibly blue wave reminded him of her eyes, every hungry fire of her flame-brushed hair, every tremulous star of her vibrant soul. Much like the water in her namesake, there was no shape he could find that she couldn’t fill, save for the gaping holes she’d left in him.

Every step of his journey, he’d been haunted.

He’d managed to track down a willing candidate to take him to the island. An younger fisherman man with a new family who was in desperate need of a new form of transportation. For the cost of a the motorcycle, he’d found himself sneaking off on a small fishing vessel in the middle of the night. There had only been one small scare with a navy boat, but they’d gotten lucky, and the journey was otherwise flawless. When he’d finally waded onto the perilous sands of North Sentinel’s shore, dry-sacks in hand, and waved his hired hand off, he was met with an eerie silence.

The bustle of the city and the boats had been some distraction, but this..he would never stop thinking about her.

And he hadn’t, not even two months later, no matter how many times he tried to summon Morgana back. Now, by his crackling fire, he thought of her again, and of her son, and of how he’d wronged them. He’d caught wind of Angor’s defeat and Jim’s disappearance into the Darklands in an internet cafe before he’d stranded himself. Oh course the boy had gone alone. Altruism at his finest. He wondered if Barbara even knew, and if she did, god help him.

To these thoughts, he drifted into a sleep-like trance, where the memories always flooded in:

He’s standing in the California breeze, two ice cream cones in hand, searching for her blue eyes in the sea of moving faces on the street.

“Walter!” he turns to see her making her way through a cluster of teenagers. School is out for the afternoon, and the world is buzzing with the excitement of Friday night. Her face is warm and bright as she strides up to him, and he spreads his arms wide to avoid dripping on her lab-coat as she slides her arms around him in a hug.

“Fresh from the parlor,” he pecks the top of her red head before pulling away to lower the cone in front of her. “Strawberry, as the lady requested.”

“I see you got the same thing.” She smiles as her hand wraps around the pointed cone.

“How could I resist?” His tongue flicks out to catch a drop of cream along his own cone, smiling when her pupils dilate.

The next few minutes are spent happily licking away as they walk through the warm spring air, making their way toward the local park.

It’s when they’re walking by the pond, that it catches his eye.

“Dr. Barbara V. Lake,” He reads aloud, pausing to stand in front of her. “I haven’t seen this coat before. What does the V stand for?”

“V for very, very, very happy to see you right now.” She jokes and then bites into the cone.

“Oh, come now.” They both wince as she gets brain-freeze. “Surely you’ll tell me.”

“Hmm, what do I get out of it?” Her smile grows coy.

“Dinner,” he clears his throat, brandishing his own sultry look as he finishes his cone. “Chinese. I’ll buy extra eggrolls.”

“You really know how to woo a woman.”

“I do,” he bites his lip.

“Viviane.”

Something jolted within him—a bit of memory, a quick blur—causing the foundations of his soul to settle, as though they’d been out-of-sorts his entire life.

“It’s beautiful.” He bent low to kiss the space above her ear. “And it suits you.”

He watches as his voice makes her spine shiver shiver, and she almost drops her cone. “Well, I hope so. It was my grandmothers name. I take after her in almost every regard. She was a nurse in the army, you know. Traveled the whole world. I used to listen to all of her incredible stories.”

“I should thank her for raising such an incredible spirit.”

“I wish you could. She’s gone now.” Barbara’s eyes grow heavy, “died right around the time that James left, actually. She would have <i>loved</i> you,” she smiled into his neckline.

“Oh really?” Humor bubbled from his throat.

“Well, you have an intoxicating sense of charm, and she had this massive thing for piano-hands.”

Stepping back, Walter moves to wrap his arms around her from behind as they gaze over the pond. “Couldn’t blame her. I’ve got some rousing sonatas up my sleeve.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it was just about the musical skill.” She chuckles. "Grammy was a fireball."

“In that case, I also have some ‘a’rousing sonatas,” he said in a beat.

They both laugh, melting into the syrupy sweetness of the moment, bodies swaying, pendulum-slow in a half-dance that leads them nowhere.

He woke.

“Viviane” He muttered to the silver-tipped waves, eyes blinking past the moonlight. “I’ve heard that name before. But where?” A scuttling crab distracted his gaze, and then his head fell back against the palm-fronds.

The next dreams weren’t rooted in his memory. They were silly, really, nothing of consequence--full of deep and ancient forests, bloodied horns against bovine fur, and the soft, bright bloom of a fragile flower.

[skygirl5]

12 Prompts of Christmas - #9 Eggnog

This is a continuation of the previous chapter’s universe (behind the jump due to length) 

NINE - Eggnog

On his first morning waking up in the isolated cabin, Rick wished to sleep late, but he couldn’t because he woke up before dawn absolutely, positively freezing. His normal sleeping attire for winter was boxers and a t-shirt because he generally kept his apartment fairly warm. He’d thought the blankets on the cabin’s bed would keep him warm enough, but evidently that was not the case; all his extremities felt like ice. Rick shivered so bad he could hardly pull on his jeans and button-down from the prior day before hobbling to the potbelly stove in the main room of the cabin and fiddling with it for ten minutes before he could figure out how to get a fire going inside of it once more.

Knowing warmth would soon come, Rick grabbed a blanket and tried to lay on the couch, which was the closest place to the stove on which to lay, but he was too miserably cold to fall back to sleep. Figuring maybe an afternoon nap would be more productive, he made coffee and sat with it cradled in his hand while wearing a blanket as a cape as he tried to warm up.

Though it took an hour, the cabin soon almost became too warm, but given how cold he had been Rick chose not to mind that too much and did his best to get some writing done. He wrote a few pages, but soon found it difficult to focus, and decided to go on a walk around the lake for a distraction. He also thought perhaps he might run into Kate, the intriguing woman whose mitten he found the day before, but he sadly did not. He did bump into an older couple who had a very friendly yellow lab and chatted with them for about ten minutes, but that was all the human interaction he had.

Back in his cabin, he called Alexis once it was a reasonable hour on the west coast. Unfortunately, their conversation was quite jumbled due to very poor reception, but he was at least able to confirm that Meredith had picked her up from the airport and was taking her shopping that day.

Since speaking with his daughter reminded him once again that she was not going to be with him for Christmas, Rick distracted himself by eating the pre-made salad he’d purchased for lunch and turned back to his writing, which was actually successful that round. He found himself so “in the zone” that he didn’t even notice how late it was getting until he got out of his chair to go to the bathroom and realized most of the cabin was completely dark.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d done, Rick decided it was time to make himself dinner. He’d purchased some chicken cutlets which he planned on stir-frying and with some vegetables he purchased and so he began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for the tools he’d need. He found a cast iron skillet and cutting board to use to prep his food. He’d purchased oil just in case the cabin didn’t have any, which ended up being a good call because he didn’t find any in the small pantry.

After pouring the oil into the skillet, he set it on the two burner stove so that it could heat up, but when he turned the knob to ignite the burner, he heard a click, but no flames appeared. Twisting his lips to the side in concentration, he crouched down and proceeded to fiddle with the knobs and burner for several more minutes to no avail; he could not get the stove to turn on.

Not too worried at that point, Rick decided that the best thing to do would be to call the cabin’s owner, Chip. He was a friendly older gentleman who had talked to Rick for nearly an hour when the cabin booking was made. Evidently the cabin belonged to Chip’s father, who was an avid fisherman. After his father passed, Chip inherited the place, but didn’t enjoy fishing as much, so he mostly rented it out. He’d told Rick not to hesitate to call if an issue arose, and Rick decided to do just that—even though it was technically Christmas Eve.

Rick walked over to where he’d left his laptop at the table. There, he’d left his phone as well as the contact information for Chip. Before he’d even begun to dial, Rick frustratingly realized his phone displayed a “No Signal” error. It hadn’t been that long since he’d spoken to Alexis, though admittedly the call had been cutting in and out at that time.

Figuring the reception had to be better outside, he put on his heavy coat and then dialed Chips number on the phone but didn’t hit the “send” button. Then, he stepped outside the cabin and was immediately knocked back by a wall of bone-chilling cold. The stinging temperature of the air was so great that he actually yelped, but then tried to recover as quickly as he could so he could get his phone call over with. Rick wandered around the area in front of the cabin for several minutes with his phone above his head waiting for the “No Signal” to vanish and bars to appear, but they never did.

Frustrated, Rick stomped out further into the yard, chasing an elusive signal. Just one bar!! He only needed one bar!!

He was about fifteen feet away from the house when he realized that small snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky above. He glanced up briefly, but that far after dusk it was almost pitch black outside. He was stumbling around only from the ambient light of the cabin’s exterior lighting, which at that distance was minimal at best. Yet, Rick remained determined to get a cell signal.

“Uhh Rick? Are you okay?” Rick heard after about seven minutes of wanting around in the freezing cold darkness.

“Wha—huh?” Startled he spun around until he saw the beam of a flashlight approaching, though due to the darkness he could not see the face of the person speaking to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I—who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The woman moved the flashlight beam from the ground to point straight upwards. It barely illuminated her face, but he recognized her immediately. “You found my glove yesterday; I’m-”

“Kate,” he breathed, still a bit shocked to have met up with her by the lake near his cabin. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So…are you alright? You don’t have a flashlight…”

He grumbled. “I didn’t mean to walk this far from my cabin I just—I’m trying to get some cell reception.”

She hummed. “Well, you might not have too much luck with that, especially with this snowstorm coming in.”

Rick frowned. “Oh…I…hmm…sorry,” he added quickly when he could see Kate’s brow tightening in confusion. “The stove in the cabin stopped working and I tried to fix it, but, frankly, I have no idea what could be wrong, so I thought I’d call the cabin’s owner but…”

“Right.” Kate nodded. Then, after a beat added, “I can take a look if you want. I was just taking a little walk so it’s not big deal.”

“Oh—oh!” his tone elevated with surprise when he realized she was offering to help him, a total stranger, without being asked. Then again, he had found her glove earlier, so they weren’t total strangers, just mostly strangers. “Sure. That would be—that’d be great, thank you. Thank you so much.”

She shrugged and the followed him across the crisp ground towards the cabin. “It’s not a problem. The stove my parents had for years was…something. Probably a terrible fire hazard, to be honest. I finally made my father replace it a few years ago, because I was convinced one of the times he tried to fry up one of the fish he caught the whole place would go up in smoke.”

“Fair enough,” Rick chuckled as they reached the cabin’s porch.

He led the way inside where Kate scuffed her boots against the welcome mat and unzipped her coat as she slipped through the narrow doorway. She gazed around for a moment, but then immediately walked into the kitchen on the left. “Oh, yeah, this one is just like ours—only smaller,” she proclaimed upon looking at the stove.

“So you know all its secrets,” he concluded, hopeful.

“Let’s hope so,” she said, smiling at him over her shoulder before setting to work. Rick tried to ignore the tingles that smile sent down his spine as he leaned against the kitchen table, wanting to stay out of her way and feeling a bit awkward that he was unable to assist.

Rick watched as Kate checked dials and plugs and arched her body over the top of the range unit so she could presumably check the wall connection. Then with a quick, “Be right back,” she walked outside the cabin once more and he could see her walking around the house through the small window above the kitchen sink. She was outside about five minutes before she returned with a frown.

“Well, I have good news and bad news.”

Suspecting he knew the bad news, Rick concluded, “You know what’s wrong, but can’t fix it.”

Giving him a sad smile, she said, “No, I can’t. For whatever reason this stove uses a different fuel tank than the one hooked up to the water heater and furnace and that fuel tank is very empty. The owner must have forgotten to have it refilled; I’m sorry.”

Rick huffed out a breath. “Well considering its Christmas Eve I don’t think I’m going to get a fuel delivery

“No, I don’t think so.” After a moment she suggested, “You could make a fire?”

His immediate reaction was to cringe. “Ah… at the risk of sounding unmanly: I don’t know that I could successfully cook chicken that way without either burning it or giving myself food poisoning.”

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t either.”

They stood side by side in the tight kitchen silently for a moment before Rick said, “Well, that’s okay. I’ll just cut my trip a little short and go home first thing tomorrow morning, but I really appreciate your help, Kate.”

She stared at him for a few seconds before trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing over to the kitchen counter, where his packet of chicken and vegetables were sitting beside the stove, waiting patiently for him to finish prepping them. After nearly twenty seconds of silence she finally concluded, “C’mon—grab your food; you can use my stove.”

Now taken completely aback, he held his one hand up defensively and stammered, “Oh—I—I wasn’t-”

“I know, but it’s Christmas, right? C’mon.”

Nodding, he hurried to the counter and began gathering what he could and shoving it back into the shopping bag it came from. “Thanks—thanks so much. Should we drive to your place, or…?”

She nodded. “Might as well. It’s only going to snow harder as the night goes on.”

Ten minutes later, after grabbing his food, other necessary cooking items, and his coat, Rick was following Kate’s directions to navigate his Mercedes towards her family’s cabin. The journey was short and she soon was leading the way into the warm, rustic space. Her cabin was significantly larger than the one he was renting. The living space was more expansive and from the length of the hall he could see in the rear, he guessed it had three bedrooms not just two. Unlike his cabin, which was decorated with mostly generic fishing or rustic décor, this was clearly a family cabin with knickknacks and family photos adding to the warmth.

“Oh, wow this is really nice.”

Kate shrugged as she took off her coat, “It isn’t much…mostly just a little escape.”

“Yeah, but it’s still great—homey.” He smiled at her for a few seconds then put his grocery bags down while he took off his coat, too. “Well, uh, I won’t take up too much of your time. Can I make you something, too? As a thank you.”

“Oh, um…” she hesitated for a moment then threw her hands out to the side in a ‘giving up’ gesture. “Sure, why not. I saw you had chicken and vegetables…”

“Yeah, I was going to put them all together in a stir fry.”

“I have some rice to make.”

“Perfect!”

For the next few minutes they both busied themselves in the tight kitchen. It was a delicate dance as there was not too much counter space around the stove, even though it did seem, as Kate had implied, that the space had been renovated recently. They managed it well enough, and after Kate started the rice, Rick chopped the vegetables and dumped them into the skillet before turning to the chicken cutlets and slicing them as well.

“So, tell me Kate, what is it that you do?”

“I’m a police officer.”

His brow arched as he pushed the chicken off the cutting board and into the pan. “Really? So you’re used to saving people in distress?”

She laughed airily. “Something like that.”

He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and then, after turning off the water, he told her. “I’m an author.”

“I know.”

Startled by her words, he did a double-take in her direction and nearly dropped the towel he was using to dry his hands. “You…do you read my books?”

Kate’s cheeks turned slightly pink as she confessed, “I might have skimmed through one or two.”

Assuming her dismissive comment was just meant to be a way to avoid some embarrassment, Rick smiled as he turned to their skillet meal, picked up a spatula, and began pushing around chicken and vegetable pieces so nothing burned.

So, Kate was, presumably, a fan of his books. How else would she have recognized him from just his first name? That also made sense. Since she was saving him from going hungry that evening he hadn’t wanted to question it, but he did find it slightly odd that a young woman such as herself would invite a strange man back to her cabin, which was isolated in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that was just his writer’s mind used to spinning dark scenarios but…well, thinking about his daughter, he hoped that she would not make the same decision in a similar circumstance for the sake of her safety. Finding out she was a police officer made a bit more sense; her training presumably made her feel more comfortable with self-defense, but if she knew him as a public figure, she would have been more likely to feel safe around him—not that he would have ever thought of hurting a woman, but sadly he knew that was not always the case with others.

Feeling in the mood to tease her a little bit more, he said, “So that’s why you wanted to have dinner with me? Because I’m one of your favorite authors?”

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she eyed him skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s what I said.”

“It was implied.”

She laughed. “I see.”

Silence hung in the air for several moments before he changed the subject with, “So you live around here?”

“No, Manhattan.”

Now even more pleasantly surprised he proclaimed, “Oh! You’re NYPD?” After she confirmed with a nod, he said, “That’s amazing. How long have you been on the force?”

“Oh, not long. I graduated the academy in August.”

“Ahh well if you’re willing, I’d be all too happy to hear all your rookie stories as we eat.”

Ignoring his question, she instead offered, “Do you need help with anything? I feel bad I’m just standing here.”

“Nonsense,” he said casually. There really wouldn’t have been room for her to join him at the stove; the space was too tight. Besides, he didn’t mind. “I really enjoy cooking; it helps me think and plan my writing usually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, because it keeps my hands busy, but my mind free to wander.”

“Hmm…makes sense.”

A few minutes later their meal was complete. Rick divided the stir fry and rice between two plates and then carried them over to the small dining table tucked in the corner of the room. As he set the plates down, he noticed a photo hung on the wall of a family: a man and a woman with a young girl about seven or eight standing in between them. The photo was clearly older and faded, and both adults wore sunglasses, but the woman had long dark hair and distinctive jawline and the man lighter brown hair and a soft smile. All three wore lifejackets and the lake—presumably the one located just a few feet away—could be seen behind them.

“This is you and your parents, I assume?” he asked, thumbing towards the photo.

“Yeah.”

“Where are they at? Don’t tell me they took a tropical vacation without you?”

She gave a soft smile as she picked up her fork and began to eat. “No, nothing like that.”

“You’re lucky, though—getting Christmas off,” Rick said in between bites. He didn’t imagine that was common for a rookie officer.

“I have to work Christmas day in the evening. And…I’ll be in Times’ Square on New Year’s Eve,” she explained.

“Oh! And you’re…not excited about that?” he guessed based on her tone. She gave him a look and he let out a small laugh. “Ah, right, I suppose not.”

“It’s only supposed to be fifteen degrees out!”

He nodded, sympathetic. “I know, I know; I don’t envy you at all. I’ve done it a few times as a spectator and it was never too bad as long as I’d had plenty of alcohol to warm me up.”

“I’m sure.”

They ate quietly for several minutes before Rick asked, “Did you spend your Christmases up here when you were little?”

“Mmm no. This place was usually my dad’s escape. His father and uncles purchased it when they were all young men. Now, they’ve all passed, and the cabin became my father’s, so he’s the one with the most connection to it. We used to come up here at least one week every summer to do things with the lake and just get out of the city, but almost never in the winter.”

Rick considered her comments as he slowly chewed his meal. He wondered why, if Kate’s father was so connected to the cabin, the elder man hadn’t joined her for the holiday? Furthermore, why hadn’t her mother? Sensing the question may have been a bit too personal to ask with that moment, he decided on a slight change of subject.

“I, um, I think I need to come up with some good holiday traditions for my daughter. I used to make sure I got her picture sitting on Santa’s lap every year, but this year she outright refused because she’s figured out that Santa isn’t real, so she’s a little salty about the whole ritual and refused to humor me. That’s literally what she said to—‘Dad, don’t expect me to humor you.’”

Kate laughed. “How old is she?”

“Six.”

Kate laughed again, harder that time. “Six?!”

“Yeah: six going on twenty. I think she’s already too smart for me and I fear that will soon be a pretty big problem.”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, it might be. Where is she spending Christmas?”

Sighing, Rick set down his fork and said, “With her mother. Last year, we’d just separated, so we tried to have a joint Christmas and it…didn’t go so well.” He involuntarily shivered at the memory of the wildly inappropriate phone conversation Meredith had with her new lover during their shared meal and their fight thereafter. “So, this year we decided to split the winter holidays: I got Thanksgiving and Meredith got Christmas.”

She nodded and said, “That must be hard.”

Unable to verbalize just how much his heart was breaking, Rick tried to stay positive. “I suppose it’s unfair of me to complain. I have primary custody, so I have Alexis nearly all the time, but Christmas…it’s my favorite holiday. My favorite time of the year. What’s worse is I had to send her to California by herself. I did get to take her through security to the gate and the assigned chaperone was extremely nice and gave her a candy cane but… it was still really hard to walk away.”

“I can’t imagine,” Kate said. When he met her sympathetic gaze, Rick did have to admit to feeling slightly better. Still, his heart was heavy.

“Sorry to bring the mood down.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry about it.”

Finishing his glass of water, Rick continued with, “It’s, ah, why I came out here. Being in my apartment without her just felt like something that was too sad to bear.”

“I get that. It’s one of the reasons I’m not doing Christmas in the city this year.”

Surprised, his brow rose sharply. “You have a child?”

“What? No—sorry. Sorry. My mother…died.”

His eyes widened and his chest constricted with sorrow. Though he knew he didn’t do it directly, Rick did feel bad about bringing up a subject that was sensitive. “Oh—oh Kate I’m so sorry.”

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sad half-smile in acknowledgement of his comment. “This is the fourth Christmas without her. She, ah, died in January. Just after the holidays and…and my dad and I haven’t really celebrated since. He…we don’t even talk about it. We just don’t celebrate, which is…well, it is what it is, but being in the city makes it harder—walking past all the places where we made memories together as a family. And then this year…” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost as though she needed to reset herself. “The reason I even got to take off work at all was because I had to take him to rehab.”

“Oh god,” Rick sighed, now feeling even worse. There he was complaining about not getting to spend a few days with his kid, who would be back before New Years’, and poor Kate had lost one parent forever and the other was struggling to the point where he was unavailable to her as well. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Kate.”

She gave him an appreciative smile. “It’s been bad for a while. I knew it. We both knew it. He’s been trying to get a handle on it on his own and been insisting he didn’t need an in-patient program, but it just wasn’t working, you know? Finally, I got him to agree to go as a Christmas present to me. Some present,” she added wryly.

“It will be if it helps him,” Rick pointed out in a soft tone.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that. It’s just…hard.” She sat for another moment before pushing herself up out of her chair suddenly, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out a cardboard carton, which she held up to him. “Want some?”

Even from that distance, Rick could clearly read the word “Eggnog” printed on the side and said, “Sure. Why not? It’s Christmas Eve.”

Kate poured two small glasses and handed him one. At the first sip he choked, his palate shocked by the alcohol, which he hadn’t expected since she poured it from a store-bought container and to his knowledge the store-bought kind was alcohol free. “Wow,” he croaked. “Your recipe could give my mother’s a run for her money.”

“Sorry—I should have warned you. I, uh, got a little heavy handed last night when I poured the whisky in the container.”

He shook his head in as an indication he didn’t mind, but he did make sure to take a more delicate sip the next time.

“So, your mother—will you see her for Christmas?” Kate asked.

“Ah, no, actually. She’s an actress and she’s touring with a holiday production. Their shows run through January second and she’ll come back home after that.”

“And your father?”

“Never met him,” Rick replied casually, taking another sip of eggnog.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Really? Never?”

Rick bobbed his head, knowing his untraditional backstory was a bit hard to process for most people. “Yeah; I don’t even know who he is. I was the, ah, product of a one-night stand.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Rick shook his head. “’s okay. I’ve had over thirty years to process it.”

“Still…to never know a parent…I can’t imagine.”

He nodded. “Most can’t—and I’m glad. It’s certainly not something I would wish on anyone, but yet it’s also something that made me who I am.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s a very healthy attitude, Rick.”

He raised his glass in salute. “Well, thank you.”

For the next three hours they drank the remainder of the quart of eggnog and chatted about an amalgamation of subjects: their jobs, the holiday season, life. Though he didn’t exactly acknowledge it at the time, looking back Rick was almost stunned how easy it seemed to talk to her about anything. Over the course of his life, he’d found himself having quick and easy connections to people he met several times, but each one was unique in its own way. With Kate, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They bounced around to a variety of topics and then back again without feeling like the conversation was too disjointed or nonsensical. It was all smooth and connected, like she was one of his oldest friends in the world instead of a woman he’d met by pure chance the day before.

Once the eggnog was finished, Kate offered Rick some water since he was driving, but he declined when he realized how long they’d been talking. By traditional standards it wasn’t that late, but he felt as though a holiday such as Christmas Eve had an exception. He didn’t want to displace whatever existing holiday plans she had for herself that night, particularly since she was returning to work the following day.

“I appreciate it, but I really should get out of your hair.”

“Ahh, yeah okay. I…I don’t think I realized what time it was,” she said with a light laugh.

“Yeah me neither. I, um, I really appreciate you letting me use your stove.”

She nodded. “Of course. Thanks for making dinner. It was…nice to have someone to eat with.”

Smiling, he agreed with, “Same,” and then stared at her for a moment, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye. A handshake seemed far too impersonal, but would a hug be too much? Deciding he shouldn’t over think it and that it was probably okay considering the intimacy of their conversation, he stepped up and gave her a brief one-armed hug, which she thankfully reciprocated. “Merry Christmas,” he said as he backed his way to the door, where he’d left his coat.

“Yes, Merry Christmas.”

Now zipping his coat, he reached for the door handle and smiled back over his shoulder at her, “Goodnight Kate.”

“Goodnight, Rick,” she echoed. Then, with a nod of his head, he disappeared out into the freezing snow-covered night.

[halfway-happyyy]

An Invisible String - Part 2

AN: This is something I’ve been working on for quite a while now, and it is a little different than my usual pieces. It will probably be about three or four installments. If you enjoy it (or even if you don’t) (I don’t do too many chaptered pieces... like, ever) please feel free to send feedback. Warnings include: mentions of suicidal tendencies, depression, anxiety, past mentions of domestic physical and mental abuse. Loosely inspired by the music video for ‘High Hopes’ by Kodaline.

Synopsis: Depressed, suicidal and recently single Alexander Skarsgård is at the end of his rope. But he is about to find out that no matter where you come from, what your pain looks like, or what your truth is... The universe will always fight for souls to be together.

part 1, part 3

“You will never escape this, Thea. Ever. This life was never meant to be abandoned. I will find you every single time my darling.”

The shadowed figure lunged towards her; his hands outstretched as if to wring them around her neck…

She had awoken with a jolt, her eyes snapped open to the white ceiling above her head and for a moment she had forgotten where she was. To steady her erratic breathing, she watched as the sequins from her wedding dress cast rainbows along her arm as the sun rose to greet the gauzy material. Thea strained for any sounds in the distance but could only make out the muffled whirring of the coffee machine in the kitchen. She had started to lose track of time now. Had she been here a day? Three? Was it possible that she had been back in the presence of the impossibly handsome, Swedish man currently brewing coffee down the hall, for almost a week already? She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reveling in the feeling of the cool hardwood floor against her sleep-warm feet. As she stretched her arms high above her head to limber up, a small yawn escaped her open mouth. She slipped into a pair of jeans and a t shirt that she had purchased the other day and stepped out into the hallway outside her door. Immediately the scent of fresh coffee and croissants filled the air and she padded her way to the kitchen to investigate further. She stopped cold in the entranceway to watch the scene unfolding in front of her, in complete awe. Alexander, though immensely tall, was reaching for something at the back of the cupboard on his tiptoes, the edge of an old t-shirt rode up just enough to reveal the toned patch of skin beneath it. Thea swallowed hard and cleared her throat to announce her presence. Alexander immediately fell back onto the balls of his feet and swiveled around to greet her with a small smile.

“Good morning Thea.”

She dropped into the kitchen chair before her, trying in vain to ignore the way the elder Swede’s exposed lower body had made her feel. “Good morning,” She replied as nonchalantly as she could muster.

Alexander closed the distance between them to pass her a filled coffee mug. She took a tentative sip and smiled softly to herself when she discovered that he had made it just the way she liked. “How did you sleep?” He asked.

Thea marveled at the way silence settled between the pair of them, like dust settling into the nooks of a warm house. Where once the absence of noise had made her uncomfortable beyond words, with Alexander it felt painfully familiar. Normal even. She peered over at him; he was leant against the stove, one long leg crossed easily over the other one at the ankle. He was seconds away from bringing the edge of a steaming coffee mug to his lips, his blonde eyebrow quirked in question. “Apart from a few bizarre dreams, I think I slept just fine thank you.” She eyed the plate of warmed croissants next to him, and her mouth watered as she watched the way the steam rose from the pastry and dissipated into the air above them. She smiled wryly at him. “I’ll have one of those if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, of course.” Alexander reached for the plate next to him and handed it to her.

“How did you sleep?” She asked as she bit into a crunchy end piece.

Alexander watched her chew the flaky pastry, a small smirk in place on his features. “Slept fine, thanks. You uh… You’ve got a little something on the edge of your bottom lip there,” Within seconds he had bridged the gap between them, reaching toward her with the pad of his thumb. Instinctively, she recoiled from him as the warmth of his thumb contacted the sensitive skin of her upper lip, causing goosebumps to rise in uneven patterns along her arms. Had she been crazy, or had he felt it too? That split second where the most miniscule touch of his had left a searing trail of fire in its very wake.  

Alexander cleared his throat and gestured to the hip-waders hanging haphazardly from a hook in the front hallway. “I figured that I’d like to go fishing today, maybe take truck out and spend some time on the water.” He glanced down at his feet, as if embarrassed by what he was about to say next. “I don’t suppose you’d like to join me?”

Fishing?

Thea could count on one hand the amount of times she had been fishing in her lifetime. Her grandfather (bless his heart) had taken her out on two occasions previous; one had been on a dock in her hometown, and the closest she had come to a fish that day was a glimpse through murky water at the unlucky amphibian who had perished at the hands of some other cruel soul. The second time was when he had taken her to the banks of the river not far from her home and tried to help her catch something there. To her immense relief, both times had proven to be wildly unsuccessful and she had been able to return home, conscience untarnished.

“Of course, you don’t have to, I just thought that if you hadn’t wanted to spend the day alone…”

Alexander’s apprehensive tone had shaken her from her reverie, and she found herself protesting. “No, it’s not that I don’t want to… I’d like to go; I just can’t promise that I’ll have any idea what I’m doing.” Thea felt her cheeks grow warm as she watched the slow, familiar smile spread across his features. She decided right then and there that she would not mind spending the rest of her life trying to make him smile like that again.  

The drive out to the lake near his house had been mostly silent save for the crackle of the FM radio in the background. There was something about the Swede’s side profile that set her pulse racing from the moment the drive began. Maybe it was the way he let one arm rest out of the edge of the open window, the other calloused hand turned the steering wheel with ease. Or perhaps it was the way that when he frowned at the driver in front of him, the twinkle in his blue orbs dwindled the slightest bit, the delicate creases next to his eyes deepening in annoyance. Thea had caught herself wondering multiple times how it would feel to have that hand wrapped around her own again, the comfort that it might bring her, the sheer warmth of it. Alas, she resisted the urge for fear of never wanting to part with it. Instead, she focused on the beauty of her surroundings. A late May sun hung high in the azure sky, the warm wind floating in on his open window brought with it the promise of long days and even longer nights and not for the first time since reuniting with him, did she settle into the unfamiliar embrace of hope.

“We're here,” Alexander murmured as he pulled into a gravel parking lot and parked the car a few hundred yards away from where a weathered dock stood. He exited the vehicle wordlessly and reached into the backseat for his tacklebox, rod, and hip waders. “Forgive me, but it's been a while and I seem to have forgotten,” He squinted up into the beaming sun above him. “Have you ever been fishing before?” He asked when he had gotten around to her side of the door, which he opened without thought.

Thea stepped out onto the uneven gravel, suddenly wishing she had been wearing anything other than a pair of strappy sandals. She folded a hand above her eyes to shield herself from the bright afternoon sunlight and nodded her head yes. “Sort of… my grandfather had tried long ago to make a fisherman out of me.”

Alexander elicited a quiet chuckle and stepped into his hip waders, pulling the straps up over his shoulders with a muted snap. “I take it that he wasn’t so successful?”

“Not in the slightest bit,” She smiled. “But looking back on it now, it was less about the actual fishing than it was the quality time with him, you know?”

Alexander’s smile faltered the tiniest bit and he nodded his head in agreeance. “Absolutely. Catching a fish is the cherry on top of an already good time; when I’m out here… there is a peace that I get, that can’t really be attained anywhere else in my life.”

Thea followed him to the shoreline and bent over to roll up the bottoms of her jeans so that she could wade out into the frigid water before her. It had stolen her breath away at first, but a few more tentative steps forward allowed her body to adjust to the chilled temperature. She watched idly, as Alexander attached a piece of bait to the end of his rod and venture out into deeper depths before him. It had been remarkably difficult not to stare blatantly at the bare skin of his toned, golden shoulders; at the way that his muscles rippled each time he cast his line out before him. It was not long before Thea arrived at the conclusion that she could be content doing just this very thing, from here on out, for the remainder of her days. “Do you come to this spot often?” Her voice had startled her; the sheer volume of it sounded wrong amongst the silence and birdsong, and she regretted it immediately, but if it bothered Alexander at all, he made no show of it.

“I try to come out as often as I can. My brother’s and I discovered this spot a few years ago, and it’s been a staple ever since.”

“Gosh, it’s been a while since I’ve let myself think about you guys…” She murmured, wistfully.

Alexander swung an arm back and cast his line out into the abyss before him. “Yeah, I could say the same thing about you.”

“How are they?” Thea asked, in an attempt to set the conversation on another course.

Alexander turned to her, smiling. “They’re great, Thea. Mum’s recovered now- her and Sam are physicians up in Stockholm.” He was reflective as he shared this information with her; but there was an air of pride he exuded that she could not miss. “Gustaf and Bill are trying the whole acting thing up in California- it’s going pretty well. Valter thinks he can get it on it too, so all the power to him. And Eija,” He could not suppress the wide-mouth grin at the mention of his only sister. “Well, she just got married.”

Thea let a puff of air escape her mouth in surprise. “Married, hey? Wow.” She hugged her arms tighter around her frame, the chill of the water caused her to shiver involuntarily. “That all sounds so wonderful, Alex. I can’t imagine how proud of them you must be.”

Alexander turned to face her again and his expression told her that there was something more that he wanted to ask her but was hindered from doing so. “Do you see your family often?”

Thea swallowed hard; she could feel the inexplicable prickle of looming tears in the depths of her eyes and she shook her head. “Not often, no.” She had no desire for this conversation to continue further and was grateful that Alexander had sensed that almost immediately. She cleared her throat and offered up a small smile, that the man before her was slow to return. “Do you see your family often?”

“I try to head up to Stockholm every few weeks to see them…” He reeled in his line and cast out once again. “And I suspect that they think I get lonely up here by myself, but I’ve come to embrace the solitude.” She could not miss the way his voice hollowed out at the end of that statement. “Oh god… our family get togethers are something else, though, aren't they?” He grinned. “It’s easy to miss those.”

“Yeah, they sure are.” She agreed.

He nodded emphatically. “They’re loud, and utterly chaotic, and sometimes politically charged, but the love is always palpable. And the laughter flows almost as freely as the wine does, all night long.”

Thea could not help but smile at the memory of it. “It all makes me so nostalgic.”

Alexander glanced back at her- he had been about to ask her something, but his eyes clouded over the slightest bit and he veered off course at the last minute. “Want to come and try?” He lifted the fishing pole in gesture.

Thea was skeptical for a few reasons, but the hopeful look on his face helped to change her mind. She waded a little further out so that she stood next to the man beside her. She was so close to him that she could smell the afterthought of cologne on his skin- a scent so familiar that it made her almost dizzy. “It’s been a really long time since I’ve done this,” She warned.

Alexander smiled and pulled her in front of him, the all-encompassing warmth of his hands a welcome reprieve to her chilled frame. “So, the aim is to have your hands as far apart as feels comfortable for you… may I?”

“Absolutely.” She consented.

Alexander helped to move her hands to the proper position on the pole. “And once you've got that down, you're going to swing the pole back behind you for a moment…” Thea allowed him to move her arm back behind her. “And the key when casting the line back out, is to release it when it's in front of you." She did as she was told and watched the line sail out into the water before her. “See?” Alexander murmured. “You're a natural.”

Thea turned to tell him something, but her bare foot slipped on the muddy silt bottom beneath her, and before she could comprehend what was happening, she was fully submerged in the frigid lake water. In seconds, Alexander had managed to link a large hand around her bicep and haul her out of the water, the laughter bubbling up out of her throat like a beautiful song. She stood hunched over the mirrored surface, hands on her knees, and dripping from head to toe as the waves of laughter took hold of her body. Though she was now near-freezing, she could not recall the last time she had let herself laugh like this, and she missed the smile that had been blooming steadily on the older man’s face as he watched her. “A natural, hey?” She managed to breath out, once she was able to take a proper breath.

Alexander shrugged sheepishly. “I’m sure we’ll get you there in time. Come on. There’s a seat in front of the fireplace back home with your name on it.” Thea followed him back to the truck wordlessly and he had managed to find an old and tattered blanket in the bed which he secured tightly around her shoulders before he started the journey. Though the time on the radio only read 2:57 P, and the late-May sun still hung high in the sky, Alexander made sure the heat was turned to full blast on the ride home. “You alright?” He frequently asked her. “We're almost there.”

“I'm fine, thank you.” It seemed pointless to try to hide the chatter of her teeth and she was utterly grateful when the car rolled to halt in front of the stone structure a few moments later.

He exited the vehicle and stocked around to her side of the door, opening it so that she could head directly to the house. “Thea?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“Here.” He tossed the ring of keys to her so that he could finish grabbing the rest of his gear. “You go on in, get into some dryer clothes and meet me at the fireplace in ten, okay?”

“Sounds good, Alex.” She murmured and let herself into the darkened front foyer. It struck her just now, how strange it was at how quickly this house had begun to feel like a home to her. Maybe it was that she had already known its owner in a past life. Almost as if the secrets she had shared with him ages ago lent themselves to these very walls and they just accepted her now. She padded down the hallway to the guest room and slipped into a pair of worn, denim jeans and an oversize knit sweater- and as she held her arms tighter to her frame in an attempt to warm up, she was in awe of the woman's touch that still lingered in the very fabric of the room. She had caught herself wondering multiple times in the past week about the woman Alexander had shared his life with up until a year ago. Who was she? What had she been like? What was the reason behind their untimely parting? A metal axe splitting through the center of a wooden log sounded in the distance and Thea wandered off in the direction of the commotion. She found herself rooted to the spot in front of the living room window in unconcealed awe, the site in front of her almost too much to bear. Alexander had changed into a pair of worn, navy blue coveralls, and was hulking through a pile of wood in the front yard. She could not be sure how long she stayed to watch his figure cut through the wood, but she came to when he entered the house laden with enough logs to fill the bottom of the ashy fireplace.

“This'll get you warmed up in no time, kid.” Alexander faltered for a moment as the weight of what just exited his mouth pressed on him. Thea had been too stunned at the sound of her old nickname to say anything in return. “I'm uh… I'm sorry.” He scratched uncomfortably at the back of his head. “It just sort of slipped out.”

Thea combed a hand back through her hair. “Just took me back a few years, is all.” She watched him kneel down on the hearth and toss the freshly split logs into the pit. With his hands now free, he reached for the box of red bird matches next to him, lit one, and threw it down onto the dry wood before him. The flames were quick to catch the wood, the sheer warmth of them instantly comforting. “That's already much better…” Thea held the palms of her hands up to the crackling flames and breathed a small sigh of relief.

“I’m glad.” Alexander murmured and dropped into his chair opposite the fireplace. It was silent between the pair of them for a long while. She could feel his gaze on the back of her neck like a warm ray of sun, and though it was a long time ago, she knew that questions usually resided in his silence. “What were you running from, Thea?”

She swallowed hard and let her hands drop to the stone hearth beneath her, her mouth suddenly void of all moisture. She knew this conversation had been in the cards for a while now; there was no conceivable way that he was going to let her to continue staying here- with him- without some answers first. “Lots of things.” She finally said.

“Did you marry him?” Alexander asked, hollowly.

Thea found the flames- wonderful shades of orange and red, mesmerizing. She watched them lick at the wood and at the stone chimney above them. “No.”

Alexander cleared his throat. “Are you alright?”

Thea wrung her hands together- a nervous habit that she had yet to outgrow. “I was at a point in my life where I needed to make a decision, and I needed to make it quick.” She took a deep breath to steel herself for the rest. “I knew that if I had gone through with those vows- if that god forsaken gold band got put on my finger, I’d be stuck forever.” She had expected to have to tell him more than she was ready for, but she still had so many questions for him. “And you…” She finally whispered. “What were you running from, Alex?”

“Ghosts.” The finite way that the word fell from his lips, allowed no room for elaboration.

Thea was silent as she contemplated this. Her heart nearly shattered at the thought of Alexander being so done with everything around him that the only option was to take his own life. She wondered briefly if the thought was still as adamant as it was a week ago. “Your family would have been devastated.”

“I know.” He cleared his throat again. “For what its worth, I’m glad that you’re here now.”

She nodded resolutely. “I am too, Alex.”

Their conversation had taken up more time than she had thought, and the fire had started to dwindle to glowing embers. The clock above the walnut bookshelf read 6:09, and the thought of having to prepare anything for dinner made her weary.

“Shall we head to the pub for dinner tonight?” Alexander asked, as if reading her thoughts.

She rose from her spot on the hearth, her body now entirely dry, and pleasantly warm. “Show me the way.”

They arrived fifteen minutes later to an unusually quiet pub. Where normally on Thursday evening’s locals would be starting their weekends early, she and Alexander had managed to find a quiet booth tucked away at the back of the bar. They ate their dinner of soup and bread in peace- bits and pieces of their previous conversation played on a loop in her brain. She knew that there would be further discussions on the matter- how could there not be? There was still so much that needed to be said. Still so much healing that needed to be done.

“God, it’s been years since I’ve seen you.” Alexander shook his head in mild disbelief and lifted the near-empty pint glass to his lips. “I don’t think I ever considered the idea that our paths might cross again.”

Thea smiled softly to herself. If she was honest with anyone, Alexander had always resided tucked away in the back of her mind. A secret that she only let herself think about on special occasions. Maybe it was the way that things had ended for them- so abruptly and so finitely that she believed that one day, if she played her cards right, she might have a second chance. Thea’s ears perked up when the previous rock song had turned to a Swedish folk tune, and she tipped the rest of the amber liquid into her mouth, setting the glass down against the wooden tabletop with a resounding clank. She rose from the leather booth, slightly lightheaded and dizzy with hope, and before she could talk herself out of it, she extended her hand out to Alexander’s. “Will you dance with me?”

She half expected him to decline and leave, but instead, his lips turned up into a small smile and he cocked his head to the side. “Right here?”

Glancing down at the scuffed hardwood flooring, she shrugged her shoulders and nodded. “Right here.”

Alexander slid out of the booth and closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around her waist and taking her small hand in his much larger one. They swayed together on the spot for what felt like hours- and it took every ounce of self-control that Thea possessed not to just simply melt into his touch like she used to so many years before. She took note of the way in which Alexander still held her; like she was the most precious thing in the universe. Like if he let her go, she might shatter into a thousand different beautiful pieces. Thea had not realized that the song had finished until Alexander broke away from her to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. He was close now; so close that she could smell the scent of body wash on his skin; could smell the subtle scent of perspiration from chopping wood earlier. For a moment she expected him to kiss her- she very badly wanted it to happen. But the moment passed, and something sorrowful glittered in the depths of Alexander’s blue orbs that hindered him from touching her how she wanted him to. “There’s just something about you Thea. Something I doubt I’ll ever be able to move on from.” He swilled back the rest of the beer in his glass and smiled sadly. “Like some sort of invisible string has been tied to our fingers since the very beginning of time.”

As Thea viewed him under the dank light from the pub lamp, she had never ached more in her life, for the second chance to get things right.

[themousefromfantasyland]

Undine

What about a spook fairy tale for Halloween?

As told by the guys at "Storynory" , loosely inspired by the novella of Friedrich De La Motte Fouqué

Illustrations by Arthur Rackham

There are many beings that we humans seldom see. For instance; there are salamanders who dance in the flames of the fire. Goblins hide away in the woods. Deep in the caves of the earth live the gnomes, and beneath the waves of the waters sprites and nymphs swim among the fish and the weeds.

Many hundreds of years ago, a fisherman lived between two supernatural worlds. His little cottage sat between a wood that was thick, tangled and haunted, and a lake that was the home to the water nymphs. By and large, the humans and the magical beings pretended not to notice each other.

Visitors to that part of the world were rare, and so when one evening when the fisherman saw the silhouette of a knight on horseback, he called to his wife to get ready to receive an guest. She prepared a tray with little glasses of spirit and a bowl of berries from the wood.

The fisherman called out, “Greetings Sir Knight, pay us the honour of a visit to our humble cottage.”

The knight was glad to find a roof where he might find food and shelter and he rode towards the fisherman’s home. By the time he reached it, the sky was already growing quite dark. The fisherman invited him to come inside. The knight sat in an armchair and put his leg up on a stool, for he had strained it. They could see that he was quite young, and good looking, if somewhat tired from his journey. He told them that his name was Sir Huldbrand, and that he had a castle that stood on the banks of the River Danube. While they were speaking, they heard a strange watery sound splashing against the window pain. The old man knotted his brow and looked troubled.

"Is it raining?" Huldbrand asked.

“No,” said the old man, as he got up and went to the door. He opened it and called out, “Undine, will you never stop playing these foolish tricks? We have a visitor.”

A few moments later, a girl’s voice said something like, “Don’t be so serious, father.” Huldbrand turned his head and saw a young woman of about eighteen years old stepping into the cottage. He had not expected to find anyone like her here. She was fair and very beautiful.

“And who’s this?” She said with a shrug and a little point at the knight. Her manner was quite insolent, but not without charm.

“Show more respect for our guest,” chided the fisherman’s wife, who was presumably also the girl’s mother.

“Does he talk?” Asked Undine, ignoring her parents discomfort.

“Forgive me,” said the knight. “I hurt my leg when I fell from my horse in the forest, and I am a little slow.” He clambered to his feet and gave a little bow to the girl.

She smiled ironically and said, “A proper knight, I see. And does he have a castle?”

“Undine, don’t be so rude!” Said her father.

Suddenly her eyes flashed with temper. “Well be like that then,” she said, and turning promptly around she headed back through the door into the night. They could hear her running down the path.

“Fiery!” Said the knight, almost approvingly. It was hard to tell if he was more astonished, or amused by her strange behaviour.

“She has always been one like that, ever since the day we found her,” said the mother.

“Found her?” Asked Huldbrand. “So she is not your daughter?”

“Not ours,” said the fisherman. “It is a strange story. Around fifteen years ago, I was returning from the market and making my way through the woods. As I was nearing home, I saw my wife running towards me. I knew something was up, because she never ventures into the woods normally.

“She’s gone, she’s gone,” she was crying. I knew right away that she could only mean our darling child, our little daughter. In fact, that very day she had just turned three years old, and I had a present for her in my sack. She had wondered out of the cottage, and all that was left of her was a blue cap floating on the water of the lake. She must have drowned. Perhaps a nymph pulled her under and took her for a sister in her watery kingdom.”

“We slept little that night, but in the morning we found, in the cot where our daughter normally slept, a little girl - but she was not ours. She was fair where our daughter was dark. She was Undine whom you have just seen, albeit briefly. Her hair and her clothes were wet. We assumed she had fallen in the lake. Of course we accepted the child as a gift from god. Although she has always been naughty, wilful, and strong-headed, we have always loved her like the daughter we lost.”

The knight was clearly fascinated by the tale. “Indeed what a strange story,” he said. “I hope she shall return because I would like to see more of this mysterious and beautiful creature.”

Just then, the wind howled through the trees, and rain began to beat down on the roof of the cottage.

“A storm!” Exclaimed the knight.

“We cannot let her stay out in such terrible weather,” and pulling his cloak over his head, he too went through the door of the cottage, and disappeared into the darkness.

The knight hobbled on his strained leg as fast as he could manage. He followed the path towards the haunted wood, as something told him that she had headed that way. He soon found that a stream was now gushing across the path. He was about to step into the torrent, when voice called out, “Do not step into the stream, it is full of mischief.” He looked up the hill, and could just make out that Undine was sitting on a little island in the middle of the stream. She was sheltered from the storm by the branches of a giant oak tree. The knight scrambled up the hill, and held out his hand to help her jump across onto the bank. “We must return home, your gentle and kind step parents are worried about you,” he said, spreading his cloak above their heads to protect them from the rain.

“I will do as you say,” she replied, “if you promise to tell me the story of your journey through the haunted wood.”

“I shall indeed,” said the knight, “It’s a strange story, though perhaps not by your standards, now hurry.” And they rushed as fast as they could, back to the cottage.

Later, as they dried out before the fire, the knight told Undine and her parents the strange story of how he came through the woods.

“A week ago, in the city on the other side of the woods, there was a holiday and a tournament. I took part in the jousting. Amongst the onlookers I saw a face that I liked. She was a maiden; dark, and beautiful.

I rode up and asked her for her favour. She told me, "This sport is for boys. If you wish to win my favour, you must ride through the woods to the lake on the other side, and report back to me with news of whatever or whoever you find there."

I knew, of course, that the woods were supposed to be haunted, but I do not fear spectres or magical creatures. The next day I set out on my quest, and indeed I found a nest of goblins living in the trunk of a great tree. They were far more afraid of me than I was of their ugly green faces and pointed ears. I rode on. But then, towards night, I felt a chill on my back. I looked around and saw strange white figure running towards me. My horse took fright and reared. I tried to reign him in, but I fell from my saddle. That was how I hurt my leg. The strange figure had vanished. I felt unwell, and quite chilled to the bones, but I managed to gather my horse and ride on. Eventually I came out of the other side and saw the calm blue waters of the lake. That was when I knew I was near the end of my quest. I heard your kind voice offering me hospitality, and here I am. Do you find my story strange?”

“No,” said the girl. “The white man was Kühleborn. He is a demon of the lake and the forest, and he was up to his usual tricks. I am glad you were not hurt more badly when you fell from your horse.”

Now the time for stories was over, and they all found places to sleep in corners of the cottage. In the morning the storm was still raging, and the stream had grown more fierce. It was not safe to cross, and they were cut off from the way back to the city. For the next few days, the weather did not improve. Huldbrand and Undine spent much time together. She was less wilful now, and did no more than tease her knight gently. Her step parents could see that he was very taken with her.

When eventually the weather was good enough to go out, they ventured for a walk into the edge of the woods. When they returned, the knight asked the fisherman permission to marry his step daughter, which of course he granted.

That evening, there was a knock at the door. The fisherman opened and saw that standing before him was a priest. His robes were wet. He explained that he had stumbled into the stream while crossing it. “Father, come in and sit before the fire,” said the fisherman, kindly.

“We have work for you to do this very evening,” declared Undine. "For you can repay my step father’s hospitality by marrying me to my beloved knight!"

Undine insisted, as always, on having her way. She had a further surprise, for she revealed that in her little box of possessions she somehow had two gold rings that were ideal for the ceremony. That evening, when the priest was sufficiently dried out, they kneeled before him, exchanged their vows, and were married.

That might sound like classic fairy tale ending, but the story has some way to go yet. About a week later, Sir Huldbrand set out for his castle, taking his new wife and her step parents with him. The priest accompanied them too, for the evil things of the forest respected him, and would do the little party no harm, so long as the priest was with them. Occasionally they caught glimpses of the strange man in white, who seemed to be flittering from tree to tree, but Undine said in a low voice to her husband, “Do not be afraid. That is Lord Kühleborn, and he is my uncle. He is pleased that I am married to you for this was his plan all along.”

“There are so many strange things about you,” said the knight, “that I cannot possibly hope to understand them all.”

They walked through the forest without any untoward incidents, and on the other side hired to carriage to take his family to the castle in comfort.

The knight installed his beautiful young wife and her family in his castle. For a while, their happiness was perfect. But before long, in the long dark passages of the old castle, spectres began to appear. The servants were terrified, and even Sir Huldbrand found that strange, eerie sounds disturbed his sleep.

One morning Undine ordered some men to take a large stone and cover over the fountain in the courtyard. Huldbrand had loved the fountain since boyhood. Its water danced and played in the sunlight.

He asked his wife why she had ordered it to be stopped up, and she replied, “It will prevent my uncle, Lord Kühleborn, from disturbing us.” And from that moment on, haunting of the castle ceased.

A few weeks later, the knight received a small gift. It was a green lady’s glove, and to it was pinned a message:

"Is it worthy of a knight to forget his promise to a maiden?" It was signed with the name, Bertilda

When he read the note, Sir Huldbrand recalled the reason that he had made the journey to through the forest to the lake. He had been given the other glove of the pair by the maiden, Bertilda, and had promised to report to her with whatever he found in the lake by the forest. What could he do? A knight must keep his troth. He sent word inviting her and her parents to the castle. As it so happened, they arrived on the day of Undine’s 19th birthday. Sir Huldbrand received them with Undine at his side and said, “My Lady, you sent me on a quest to the lake beyond the woods, and asked me to show you what I found there - And here she is, my wife.”

He was not so naive as to think that Bertilda would be pleased by this news, but she smiled graciously.

Her father said, “Although I call myself the father of Bertilda and think of her as my own daughter, in fact, many years ago I found her abandoned in those very same woods. She was wet and cold and could not say where she lived. I took her home and feared that she might die of a fever, but as you see, things turned out well. Although we cannot know her true birthday, we have always celebrated it on this very day, which is the anniversary of my finding her.”

That evening they held a double celebration, with feasting, and music and dancing. But Sir Huldbrand noticed that the wife of the fisherman was staring at Bertilda. One time when the orchestra stopped playing, she flung her arms around Bertilda and said out loud so that all could hear, “My child!”

Bertilda pushed her away and said, “She’s lying, it’s not true!”

But the woman insisted, “I feel it. She is my child”

“How dare you say such lies,” called back Bertilda. “You accuse me of being the daughter of a wretched fisherman! You are a demoness!”

“She has grown wicked,” said the fisherman’s wife, “but still I know she is mine.”

“And I feel it too,” said her husband.

By now the argument was quite heated. The whole court was watching the quarrel unfold. Undine stepped forward to embrace Bertilda, “It’s true. You are my sister,” she said, “not by birth, but because we shared the same parents who cared for us.”

Later that night, Sir Huldbrand sat alone with his wife. He said, “Now it is time for you to tell me your story.”

She explained that her uncle, Lord Kühleborn, had taken the little girl, Bertilda, away from her true parents, the fisherman and her wife. In her place, she had given them his niece, Undine. She had been born as a water nymph. Water ran in her veins, and she could change shape at will. It was her nature to be mischievous and play tricks. And yet, it had always always been her dream to know what it felt like to have a human heart. Now that he had married her, that dream had become true. She had flesh and blood and feelings. So long as his love remained true, she would remain a mortal and live by his side.

Even in the morning, the stubborn Bertilda would not accept the kindly fisherman and his wife as her true parents. They were so broken hearted, that they left the castle and returned to their cottage. Her own foster parents were angry with her, and she quarrelled with them too. Yet she remained friends with Undine, and lingered on in the castle. Sir Huldbrand, Undine, and Bertilda would often go around together, walking arm-in-arm, and the trio were almost inseparable. Then one day, as they walked along the banks of the River Danube, Bertilda said “Oh, how I wish that one day I could see Vienna!”

“Yes, wouldn’t that be just splendid?” Agreed Undine. How could the noble Sir Huldbrand refuse the entreaties of two such beautiful ladies? He ordered for arrangement to be made, and a boat was prepared so that they could sale along the Danube to Vienna.

At first the pleasure cruise went smoothly, but then Undine’s Uncle, Lord Kühleborn, could not help but get up to his old tricks. He sent large waves to rock the boat from side to side, and made everyone on board feel sick. At night, he howled like the wind and kept them awake. Even Sir Huldbrand, was feeling quite terrible. Bertilda, who was practically green with motion sickness, complained to him, “If you had married me, a true woman, you would not have all these problems. Even if my parents truly are that wretched old couple, at least I do not have demons for relatives.”

Hulbrand, who as not at all himself, staggered up onto the deck where he found Undine staring at the choppy waves. Her face was white and her blond hair was blowing in the wind. He chided her and asked, “Can’t you do anything to stop your uncle?”

Undine said simply, “I can but try.” She went to stand in the prow of the boat and called out, “My Own Uncle, Lord Kühleborn, can you not accept that I am human now? You must leave me and my husband in peace!” Her voice had a magical, ethereal quality.

When he heard his niece, Lord Kühleborn rose his ghostly white head out of the waters before the ship. The sailors screamed as he picked up the prow and sent them all slipping and sliding across the deck, and to the back of the boat. At that moment, as he two was scrambling to get a hold of a rope or a mast, Huldbrand called, “Oh, why did I not marry Bertilda when I had the chance?”

These words went straight to Undine’s heart and shattered it. Her face was almost transparent. Her body took on a semi-liquid form, half woman - half water, and she slipped over the side of the boat and into the swirling River Danube.

Huldbrand clasped the rail and called after her, “Undine, forgive me, I did not mean what I said,” but it was too late - she was gone. The river was calm once again.

Huldbrand and Bertilda returned to the castle, and some time later they were married. One morning, Bertilda ordered the great stone to be removed from the fountain. Once again the waters played as cheerily as in Huldbrand’s boyhood. But that night, a watery apparition slid out of the well, and ran up the stairs of the castle. It flowed under the door of the room where Huldbrand slept beside his wife. The drops of water reformed themselves in the shape of a beautiful young woman. She placed her lips on the cheek of the knight as he slept, and she kissed him. In that moment, he was dead.

[eduardothefisherblog827]

How to Create an Awesome Instagram Video About Fishing

Catfish in reservoirs is not really a all-natural prevalence. While bait fishing for catfish in reservoirs is booming nowadays because of authentic stocking and migrations of native river catfish to the reservoirs. Reservoir making over the 1950's, and 1960's and continue to nowadays, has opened up an unlimited water regions for catfisherman. The initial habitat of channel catfish, blue catfish, flathead catfish, and white catfish have usually been while in the river https://twitter.com/guidetofishing1 systems of the United States and they even now thrive there right now.

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Reservoirs are h2o impoundments that get their water source from rivers that were dammed. These new water impoundments fluctuate in condition, sizing, depth, drinking water colour, productivity, and potentially a number of other properties. The catfish populations in addition to other species come from the migration from the species from tributary feeds, you'll be able to bait fish for catfish such as channel catfish, flathead catfish, and blue catfish in a few reservoirs, but nearly all the reservoirs from the United states of america keep Superb populations of channel cats.

To capture catfish in reservoirs normally takes some apply because purely natural habitat and framework is ample in reservoirs. To catch catfish you may need to be familiar with the reservoir you intend to fish. It critical you get your self a Topographical maps from the reservoir. They can normally be obtained from The military Main of engineers. Repeatedly community bait retailers also have maps. Also listening to the catfishes food items chain is significant. As an example reservoirs almost always hold significant populations of shad. If you will discover the shad universities you will Track down some species of catfish within reach. Usually flathead catfish Will not Stick to the shad faculties. One particular crucial indicator you will find shad close to is numerous birds flying all over. This a good way to Identify shad educational institutions for bait fishing for catfish. In the event you are seeking trophy catfish then reservoirs are where you need to fish. Most species of catfish can develop exceptionally huge in reservoirs. Catching a blue catfish over 30lbs will not be unusual.

An additional important aspect to catch catfish in reservoirs in knowledge in which the initial series of channels ended up Positioned. Catfish will continue being a river fish instinctively even in reservoirs even in reservoirs. There'll be superior populations of channel catfish, flathead catfish, and blue catfish living in construction that is near to the original creek and river channels.

To catch flatheads Find areas around the initial river channel or primary creek channels. Flathead catfish are https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/?search=kayak usually not a roaming catfish like the blue catfish. If you intend to go bait fishing for flathead catfish you have got to come across there spot. These fish won't move significantly.

To capture blues in reservoirs head to locations that have current flow, and also to wherever the shad faculties are located. Blue cats usually do not hold as limited to the initial channels as do flathead catfish, but the will however be situated in these locations. In case you are heading bait fishing for blues you can use Reside catfish bait or dead Slice bait, the blues like both. Their favourite meals resources are oily schooling fish such as threadfin shad, gizzard shad, and skipjack herring. If you're able to locate the shad faculties in reservoirs you might have a superb working day of fishing.

To capture channel cats in reservoirs you can fish anywhere inside the reservoir in which There's adequate catfish habitat. When there is a better place for channel catfish on a reservoir It might be considerably up modest tributaries adjacent to the leading reservoir. They can be just like the blue cats and they're going to feed on live baits including shad and crayfish, mussels or Minimize bait. If you intend to bait fish for channel catfish by way of line just exterior The existing in composition parts channel catfish are like flathead catfish and do not choose to stay in latest.

Well that concludes my short article about bait fishing for cats! We wish you the ideal of luck on your own next fishing vacation! Have got a pleasant day.

Fishing has played a vital part in Maine's wealthy and varied heritage from as early since the 19th century. Alongside mining, lumbering and shipbuilding, professional fishing performed a vital part inside the economic advancement of Maine, which remained one of several parts most favored industries for many many years. Nevertheless, developments from the mining and production industries saw a decrease of Maine's fishing field. Fortuitously, smaller communities residing on and close to Maine's various rivers and lakes ensured that fishing would stay A part of the areas heritage and come to be the massively well-liked vacationer attraction that it is these days.

Following on from this foundation, Maine now bases Significantly of its economic climate within the tourism market. While Maine has several attractions, not minimum of all its lush areas of organic beauty, the fishing places on provide are arguably the Leading attraction for website visitors from across the world. On account of Maine's exceptional mix of freshwater and saltwater fishing areas, many fishing communities are continuing to prosper around the back of keen lovers and Experienced anglers alike.

Maine can also be home to greater than its honest share of fishing heritage, like that of Cornilia Crosby, or "Fly Rod" as she was affectionately recognised. Cornilia had the honour of getting the primary person to become awarded using a Guiding License in 1897 acquiring used many years Understanding the woods, lakes and rivers of Maine. As the nickname would counsel, Cornilia was a eager angler who became really skilled at fly-fishing. One story particularly claims that Cornilia landed two hundred trout in only one working day.

Cornilia began journaling her fishing expeditions and submitted them to many publishers and editors beneath her nickname of "Fly Rod". This kind of hit had been her tales that "Fly Rod's Notebook" became a hugely well known column in newspapers in Big apple, Boston and Chicago, and little doubt attracted a huge selection of eager fisherman from throughout the place for the rivers and lakes of Maine.

Thankfully for that folks of Maine, the lakes and rivers stay some of the very best fishing places on the planet, and countless fishing resorts continue to prosper over the again of wonderful surroundings, big fish and heat, helpful communities. With properly around 100 several years of fishing heritage, Maine carries on for making history as among the planet's premier leisure fishing destinations.

[xtruss]

‘Ida Is Not The End’: Indigenous Residents Face The Future on Louisiana’s Coast – Photo Essay

Communities in Pointe-aux-Chenes and Isle de Jean Charles grapple with question of whether to rebuild or retreat

— By Oliver Laughland with photos by Bryan Tarnowski in Pointe-aux-Chenes and Isle de Jean Charles, Louisiana

— Damage from Hurricane Ida at Pointe-aux-Chenes. Photograph: Bryan Tarnowski/The Guardian

— Sunday 12 September 2021

Out on the frontiers of the Louisiana coastline, amid winding bayous, battered island roads and sinking land, a swath of fresh devastation for this region’s overlooked Indigenous tribal communities.

Amid the rapid depletion of their land, rising sea levels and coastal erosion, Hurricane Ida pummeled the small communities of Pointe-aux-Chenes and Isle de Jean Charles, home to a number of south-east Louisiana’s coastal tribal groups.

The area endured some of the hurricane’s worst destruction, with many who returned to inspect the damage describing the category 4 storm as the worst they had ever endured during lifetimes punctuated by extreme weather.

Ida also revived questions that many people here have been grappling with for years: whether to stay or go, retreat inland or remain to rebuild in an area already facing the brunt of the climate crisis.

Kip de’Laune looks for salvageable items at his home in Pointe-aux-Chenes.

On Isle de Jean Charles, reached on a roadway surrounded by water that was constructed in 1953, the silence was broken only by the sound of cicadas and mosquitoes. Many homes had been toppled from their stilts, with over half the island’s housing completely destroyed. With no power or running water, it appeared only two people, of the island’s roughly 40 remaining residents, were currently living there permanently.

Elizabeth and Edison Dardar Sr, both 72 and elders in the island’s Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw Tribe, returned just a few days after evacuating. They were living under their severely damaged home beneath a tented blue tarp. Propane and food were running low, but this was not the first time their home had been destroyed by storms. They hoped to rebuild.

Edison and Elizabeth Dardar are living under a blue tented tarp beneath their home in Isle de Jean Charles. There is no power or running water on the island.

Edison, a retired fisherman, sat straight shouldered and recounted his fondest memories of the island, on which his father and grandfather also lived.

“It’s good land,” he said. “People would garden – green beans, lima beans, tomatoes and peas, but then the salt water started rising up.”

Despite the destruction here, there was no question the couple, married 53 years, would stay.

“People have been saying we shouldn’t be here for 50 years,” said Elizabeth. “But if we moved, other people would take our land.”

A few homes down the island’s only roadway, Chris Brunet, a councilman in the tribal government, had evacuated to the closest city, Houma, also still without power. He returns when possible and attempts to clean up his home, which remains partially intact. But with no power, the wheelchair elevator is not operational so he works underneath the stilting.

Top: Chris Brunet at his partially destroyed home in Isle de Jean Charles. Bottom: As the sun began to set, Brunet returned to the city of Houma where he is currently living without power as an evacuee.

In 2016 Isle de Jean Charles became the first community in America to receive federal funding for a sweeping inland retreat due to the effects of the climate crisis. The island’s land mass has decreased by 98%, according to the tribal council, amid flooding, erosion and expansion of oil and gas infrastructure.

Brunet has taken up the option of a new home further inland, but will continue to live here for as long as possible, irrespective of Ida’s damage.

“I want to rebuild,” he said. “I want to hold on to it for as a long as I can. Me selling it or losing it surely ain’t going to change what’s going on out there. It won’t stop how the environment is changing.”

Brunet had returned on Wednesday to place a new sign at the foot of his property. It read “ISLE DE JEAN CHARLES IS NOT DEAD. CLIMATE CHANGE SUCKS.”

Ronald Chiasson helps his friend Chris Brunet nail a sign up that Brunet made to hang in the front of his home. Brunet has vowed to continue living on the island after Ida’s devastation.

As he filled it in, black marker against a bright yellow board, he reflected on the devastation – the homes, the trees, he had known his entire life now crushed on top of each other.

“Climate change has forced us to make decisions that we never wanted to make,” he said. “For me Ida is not the end, it’s just a change.”

On the other side of the island road in lower Pointe-aux-Chenes, there was equal devastation. Elders here assessed that just five of the 40 homes on the west bank of the bayou remained habitable. Many had not recovered from a battering last year during Hurricane Zeta.

More than half the homes on Isle de Jean Charles were destroyed by Ida. Local leaders worry many residents will not return.

At Earline Naquin’s trailer home, remnants of the blue roofing tarps still in place after last year’s storm lay scattered over the muddy ground. The family had applied for aid from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (Fema) last time and been rejected. Another initial application after Ida had also been rejected too, despite the complete decimation. They planned to appeal, but Earline, a tribal elder and sister of the Pointe-aux-Chien tribal chief, had already made up her mind. She would leave the community she had lived in her whole life and find somewhere further inland to live permanently.

“We’re getting up in age,” she said. “And we just don’t have the money to clean up and buy things to rebuild any more.”

Her sister and three brothers who live further up the bayou also lost everything.

Top: Earline Naquin, center, and her daughters Liza Naquin, left, and April Badillo, right, with April’s three children at Earline’s destroyed home in Pointe-aux-Chenes. Pieces of blue tarp hung over their roof after last year’s Hurricane Zeta were cut to shreds by Ida. Bottom: April Badillo’s children at Earline Naquin’s home.

Across the bayou, elders Donald and Theresa Dardar were receiving truckloads of donated aid, which flowed into the tribal offices throughout the late morning. Theresa thought back to her youth, when she went out fishing on the lakes with her husband, working as his deckhand. She returned to the same shrimping areas for the first time in decades recently and found them unrecognizable.

“It’s painful to watch,” she said. “All my markings were gone. The bays and the lakes were defined. But they were no more.”

Destruction in Pointe-aux-Chenes. Most of the homes on the west side of the bayou have been destroyed.

Tribal leaders here worried about faltering assistance from the US federal government. There had been little in person contact from Fema as of Wednesday, necessary to unlock grant money to rebuild. And the coastal tribes here, while recognized by the state, are not recognized by the US federal government, making federal aid to the community harder to release.

The lack of recognition felt particularly acute in a moment of crisis.

Left: A flag still flew on a home which received significant damage from Hurricane Ida. Right: Teresa and Donald Dardar at the Pointe-au-Chien Indian Tribal Center.

For Donald, the disaster was becoming overwhelming. He stepped away when asked what his plans were for the future.

“Our roots are planted here,” said Theresa. “You know, after a storm, sometimes he gets discouraged and says he wants to leave. He said it this time too. But I know it’s just the hurt. In his heart, he wouldn’t be able to leave here.”

[bakubabes-tatakae]

The Uchiha In The Leaves (Part Ten)

Author’s Note: If anyone wants to be in a taglist for this feel free to let me know! Happy to do it for anyone!

(Kakashi x Reader)

Summary: What happens when Y/N finally returns to the Village Hidden in the Leaves? Her life is flipped upside down when not only does she find the man that’s awaited her return, but she finds someone she thought she’d never see again.

Part One, Part Two: *NSFW Ahead!*, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight: *NSFWish Ahead!*, Part Nine

Part Ten

Word Count: 3,134

*Kakashi's P.O.V*

In between training the kids about chakra we had to help Tazuna with protecting his bridge. The next morning I sent Sakura with Tazuna along with Y/n, since Sakura was the most advanced in this already. I knew the two of them would be fine without me so I stayed behind to make sure the boy were focusing on their training.

As sundown broke the boys were still at it. They would soon become exhausted, but knowing the two of them, as long as one of them pushed on the other would push on, wanting to best each other. I knew the boys were probably at each other's throats, but I needed to get some rest, so I headed back to the hut, telling them to come back when they had had enough.

When Y/n and Sakura walked through with Tazuna I was relieved to say the least. I wrapped Y/n into my arms and kissed her forehead. "How was your day?"

"Quiet. He had one of his builders quit, but nothing other than that." She looked up at me and pushed her lips toward me. I leaned down and kissed her. "How was yours?"

"Uneventful. The boys are slowly making progress with the tree, but they're too worried about surpassing the other to focus enough."

Y/n sighed. I figured as much. I know how competitive my brother can be."

Sasuke and Naruto came through the door a couple minutes later and we all sat down at the table to enjoy a meal prepared by Tazuna's daughter, Tsunami. I've never seen the boys scarf down food so fast. Tazuna seemed happy to have company. "This is fantastic, it's been a long time since we've had this many guest around our table."

Both boys stood up and held their bowls in the air, glaring at the other as they spoke together. "I want some more!" After they yelled both of them turned sideways and threw up all over the floor.

Y/n glared at Sasuke and Sakura started to yell. "Don't eat so much if you're just going to puke it back up!"

Sasuke ignored his sister's glares and spoke again. "I have to eat."

Naruto talked through gritted teeth. "And I have to eat more than him. It's the only possible way to beat him."

I crossed my arms and looked at the both of them. "That's true. But puking wont help you."

Y/nn stood up from her seat, walked over to Sasuke, and slapped him in the back of the head. "Learn some manners Sasuke Uchiha." Naruto burst out laughing and she walked to him, doing the same. "Don't think I didn't mean you too, Naruto Uzumaki."

Sakura wandered around the kitchen, looking at pictures. "Excuse me?" She turned around. "This picture is torn, is there some reason for that?"

We all turned to look at what she was talking about. There was a lone picture hanging on the wall behind us. The picture showed Tazuna, Tsunami Inari, and another person had been ripped out of it. Tsunami spoke up before anyone could say anything else. "It's my husband."

Tazuna's whole attitude changed. "They used to call him a hero in this land."

Inari stood up from the table and started to walk out, clearly worrying Tsunami. "Inari, where are you going?" Instead of answering Inari shut the front door behind him. Tsunami started for the door. "Father, you can't talk about him like that in front of Inari! You know that!" I had not seen Tsunami like this since we had shown up here. She slammed the door behind her.

"How come Inari is so..." Sakura paused. "What happened to him?"

I piped in. "Is there a story to this?"

Tazuna began. "He wasn't his real father, he came into our lives later. He brought so much happiness, he and Inari were so close. In those days, Inari used to laugh all the time. But then..." Tazuna was having a hard time getting his words out and we began to see tears hitting the table. "All that ended. He never laughs or smiles anymore. Ever since the day everything changed."

"The word courage was stolen from this island. We were left feeling powerless, hopeless, and Inari suffered the most. Ever since that day, ever since it happened."

"Tell us..." I was generally curious now. "What happened to Inari?"

"First, you need to know about the man, his father. The man who taught us the word courage, who was a hero in this land." Tazuna took off his glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes. "He came here about three years ago. Inari's dog, Pooch, was thrown into the lake by some bullies. Inari was not able to swim and when they told him they weren't going to save the dog Inari stood at the edge of the bridge, contemplating what to do. Suddenly, one of them pushed Inari into the water and at that exact moment Pooch figured out how to dog paddle. Pooch had run to find help and the boys on the bridge chased after him, trying to stop him."

"When the boys ran off a man pulled Inari out of the water, cared for him, and fed him. His name was Kaiza. He was a simple fisherman who had come here from another land to follow his dreams. After that Inari and Kaiza were inseparable. The boy never met his real father so you could imagine what it meant to him to have Kaiza in his life. He looked up to him, followed in his footsteps, like a real father and son. Kaiza spent more and more time with us until, naturally, he just became a part of our family. And then when this town needed him he became something more."

"One night, when the flood gates had opened and our lower district was about to be flooded, the townspeople came to Kaiza to ask for help. Kaiza jumped into action. Someone had to jump into the water and tie a rope to the gate so the townspeople could pull it shut. Naturally, when no one wanted to step up, Kaiza did. Kaiza made it to the gate and tied the rope to the gate so the townspeople could begin to pull it shut. From that time on Kaiza was considered a hero to this village. He taught us all the meaning of courage and Inari was so proud to be his son, but it wasn't long after that Gato showed up and took over. He terrorized the whole village. Only Kaiza stood up to him. Gato couldn't have a local hero getting in his way. It took his whole gang to stop one man."

" Gato strung Kaiza up on a pole in front of the whole town, including Inari. Gato told everyone that he had defied the Gato Corporation and sentenced him to execution for his punishment. He wanted him to be an example so nobody stood in his way again. Inari watched as they executed Kaiza. Inari was crushed that Kaiza was not there to protect us anymore. Since then Inari has changed, so has Tsunami and all of our people. We lost our will."

When I looked over at Y/n she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She had always been a sucker for stories like this. Naruto stood up from the table to walk away and instantly fell to his face. "You need to relax and take some time off Naruto. You've used up too much chakra. If you push any harder it could kill you."

Naruto was focused. "I'm gonna prove it."

We all looked at him confused. Sakura was annoyed with him again. "Prove what?"

"I'll prove that it's true." Naruto slowly stood back up. "That in this world, there are real heroes."

Naruto ran off and we all knew exactly where he was going... back to the tree.

We sat around the table for tea that next morning. Naruto still hadn't returned from his training last night. I wouldn't let anyone see it or know, but I was starting to worry about him. Tazuna said something about it first. "Naruto didn't come back again last night?"

Sakura was worried too, but didn't want to sound it. "He's gone completely nuts, he's out there climbing trees in the dark. He could be dead right now, you know, from using up too much of his chakra."

Tsunami was disappointed in Y/n and I, you could tell by her voice. "Well I certainly hope he's alright, a kid out in the woods alone all night."

I spoke up, defending Y/n and myself. "There's nothing to worry about. Naruto's a goofy kid, but he's a full fledged ninja. He can handle himself."

I never thought I would hear Sasuke say the next words, even Y/n was in shock. "Sakura's right, Naruto's such a loser he's probably laying out there dead somewhere." Sasuke stood up from the table and walked toward the door.

Sakura watched him. "Sasuke?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"But we just started eating." Sakura looked down to see Sasuke's empty plate and stopped talking.

I looked over at Y/n who seemed worried. I nodded toward the door. "Go."

Y/n stood up and started walking. "Sasuke, wait." And with that she shut the door behind her.

As an hour went by I began to get nervous. None of them had returned so I grabbed Sakura and we took off for the woods. I found Y/n and Sasuke with Naruto in the clearing we had used the trees from. Sakura and I just barely dodged a kunai that landed in front of us and when we looked up we saw Naruto laying on a branch at the top of his tree.

Sakura was amazed. "Woah, Naruto can climb that high using his chakra?"

Naruto was proud of himself. "What do you think? Is this high enough for you guys? I mean, it's a long way down. Huh?"

Suddenly we saw Naruto start to slip as he stood up. My eyes grew wide and I looked over at Y/n. "Uh-oh" He began to scream, which caused Sakura to scream, and Y/nn began jumping through the trees, ready to dash across and grab him, landing on another branch.

Before Y/n could do her final jump and grab him Naruto balanced himself with his chakra and he looked at all of us with a smile. "Just kidding, you guys really fell for it." He began to laugh.

Sakura yelled at him. "We were worried about you Naruto."

I had a weird feeling. "Why do I think this is going to end badly?"

Naruto's feet finally came loose from the tree and this time he was really falling. Sakura was even angrier now. My eyes have never grown so wide in my life and she hollered. "You just had to push it, didn't you show off."

I hollered to get Y/n's attention, who was currently watching Sasuke. "Y/n, help Naruto!"

Naruto began to scream and both the Uchiha sibling went into action. Sasuke scaled the tree and just as Y/n got down to Naruto's level Sasuke climbed under a branch and grabbed onto Naruto's ankle, hanging there with him. Sasuke smirked at him. "You really are a loser Naruto.

Sakura yelled from the ground and I saw Y/n smiling at her brother. "Alright Sasuke, you're the best."

Y/n jumped down and landed next to me. I looked over at her and smiled. "If we're still sane by the time we're done their training, it'll be a miracle."

"You've got that right." She laughed.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her to me, kissing the side of her head and laughing with her.

All but Sasuke and Naruto were sitting at the table, ready for dinner. Sakura was clearly worried about them, Y/n and I not so much, "Now they're both late. I wouldn't have expected that from Sasuke."

Y/n was annoyed. "Me either."

Sasuke and Naruto came through the door a second later. Sasuke had Naruto's arm wrapped around his shoulder. Tazuna taunted them a little. "What have you been up to? You look like something that cat dragged in."

Naruto looked up. "We both made it. We climbed all the way to the top."

I looked over and smiled. "Good, now we move on, starting tomorrow you're both body guards for Tazuna."

They both smiled. Naruto threw his arm up and yelled. "Alright!" When his arm went up they lost their balance and both fell onto the ground.

Sasuke was clearly angry now. "You're such a loser!" We all chuckled and settled in for dinner.

Tazuna looked around the table. "In a few more days the bridge will be finished and I'll have you to thank for that."

Tsunami was very motherly to everyone. "You've all done great, but you've still got to be careful."

"I've been meaning to ask you this, but I haven't had the chance until now. Why did you stay and protect me, even after you found out I lied to bring you here?"

I looked at him and put my hands together. "Those who stray from the path of justice have no courage, but under the wing of a strong leader, cowardice can not survive."

Tsunami looked confused. "Huh?"

"That was a quote from the first Hokage."

Naruto was asleep at the table, Inari was watching him. Tears started to fall from Inari and we all looked over at him. "But why"

Naruto woke up when he spoke and looked at him. "What'd you say?"

Inari slammed his hands on the table. "All this stupid training it just a waste of time. Gato's got a whole army. They'll beat you down and they'll destroy you. These cool things you all say, they don't mean anything. No matter what you do, the strong always win and and weak always lose."

Naruto laid his head back down. "Just speak for yourself. It won't be like that for me, you got that?"

"Why don't you just be quiet!? Looking at you makes me sick. You don't know anything about this country, you're just butting in. Always laughing and playing around, you don't know what it's like to suffer and be treated like dirt!"

I knew that was going to strike a nerve with Naruto. Naruto slowly lifted his head up. "Listen to yourself, whining and complaining like some sort of little victim." Inari's face turned to shock. "You can whimper all day for all I care. You're nothing but a coward."

Sakura was mad now. "Naruto, you went too far!' Naruto stood up and walked away and her face changed from anger to guilt. "Naruto?"

Inari stood up from the table and went outside. I looked between Tazuna and Tsunami and then to Y/n. Y/n looked upset. "Let's go and talk to Inari." She looked toward Tazuna. "As long as you don't mind anyway."

Tazuna shook his head. "Be my guest."

Y/n and I stood up and walked toward the door. She looked back at Sasuke and Sakura before we left the room. "We'll be right back.

When we reached where Inari was sitting on the deck I slowly approached. "Can we talk to you?"

Inari looked behind him and nodded. I sat on one side of him and Y/n sat on the other. Y/n spoke first. "I'm sorry about Naruto." She smiled at him. Inari just stared.

I tried next. "Naruto can be a little harsh sometimes, but he doesn't hate you."

"Your grandfather told us what happened… to your father."

I wanted to try to make him realize that him and Naruto weren't much different from each other. "You probably don't know this, but Naruto grew up too, without knowing his father. In fact, he never knew either of his parents, and he never had a single friend in our village." Inari looked up at me. "Still, I've never seen him cry, sulk, or give up. He's always eager to jump in. He wants to be respected. That's his dream."

Y/n took over. "He'll put his life on the line for that in a heartbeat. My guess is, he just got tired of crying and decided to do something about it. Even though he's young and still learning he knows what it means to be strong, like your father did."

Y/n looked over at me. She had tears welling up in her eyes so I started to talk, wanting her to calm down. "I think he knows better than any of us, what you're going through. What Naruto told you earlier, as cruel as it sounded, he's probably told himself that a thousand times."

Y/nn started again. "And not only that, but Sasuke and I, if you didn't already know, we're brother and sister. When Sasuke was 7 years old, his older brother and my younger brother, Itachi, who was only 13 at the time, massacred our family. I had barely trained to be a ninja at the age of 18 and I had barely any skills. Itachi was part of the ANBU Black Ops, so he had special training. I couldn't stop him, I had all I could just to protect Sasuke from him. I watched as Itachi killed my parents and he would have killed me too, if Sasuke hadn't walked into the room, distracting him. Sasuke grew up with no parents and without me. I had gone to hunt my brother down and had lost Sasuke in the process. It's just this last month that I found him, after five years, so Sasuke can sort of relate to you too."

"You can always talk to us, we're more than happy to listen Inari. You'd be surprised what has happened to some ninja." I stood up and helped Y/n up. "We're gonna head to bed, but our door will be open if you need us."

I took Y/n's hand and we walked back toward the door. Y/n turned around once to look behind us, sighing as she turned back around.

When the two of us climbed into bed we fell asleep faster than we ever had.

Taglist 💕 @nubiadethemyscira @nimeryaa @o-franzii-o @chidori-mint @fan-g0rl @ari-hatake15 @puredicks @hunie-hun

[shardweavers]

Chapter Sixteen - Memories on the Tides

The trip from Lakeland had started out quiet. The fishing boat was a medium-sized ship, with a few cabins for a small crew. The trip would likely take the evening to navigate from the Source to Venmont Yards. Emet-Selch's money had gotten them closer to Eulmore, but that still meant going to the docks at the shipyard. The only way straight to the city was via an airship. While there had been talks of an airship route between the Crystarium and Eulmore, and visits from Chai-Nuzz to the Crystal Exarch, the implementation of the actual trip was still a ways off.

Emet-Selch had been first to board Dadfort's vessel. Shoto was next, then Yuki, and finally Sumire. The four split into two groups, each taking a crew cabin. Emet-Selch was assigned to share a cabin with Sumire, while Yuki would share a cabin with Shoto. The Viera stood firm on this arrangement, and took Shoto's bag from Sumire.

"We'll meet you in the kitchen where we can talk about what to do once we're in Kholusia. For now, go put your things away." Yuki directed, taking up a leadership role for the moment. Shoto let herself be led off to their cabin, not wanting to fight right now.

Sumire turned to look at the Ascian, only to wince and rub at his right eye. He looked away immediately, then headed toward the other cabin. "Come on, it's best to listen to Yuki when she's this insistent."

"I haven't anything I care to put away," the Ascian replied, not following after the Dragoon.

Sumire stopped, then looked back, making sure only his left eye could see him. "Then at least come choose your bed. I'll put my things on the other one and we can go meet them in the kitchen."

Hades looked to the Miqo'te, then gave a dramatic sigh as he moved to follow him. "Very well. I suppose you make a point."

* * * The kitchen, for what it was worth, was mostly just that; a table and chairs for crewmembers to eat while at sea. It served as a good meeting place, though, and Dadfort was currently making a bit of food and coffee for everyone. He had one crewmember with him for the trip, and had entrusted them with navigation above deck until everyone was settled. They had overheard Dadfort telling his First Mate that he'd take over once they'd left the Source and were into the Divide proper.

The four passengers sat silently around the table as the ship headed across the lake; Dadfort sat plates in front of Shoto and Yuki with a smile, then went back to get two more plates for Sumire and Emet-Selch. Shoto sniffed at the food before her, and her expression seemed to brighten instantly. It looked really fancy to her for a quick meal; crab cakes, with some quickly grilled mixed vegetables beside them. Yuki poked at her crab cakes with a fork as Dadfort gave the boys their food. Hades wrinkled his nose a bit at the simplistic meal, but Sumire looked impressed. His ears flicked and he moved to eat immediately. Shoto also dug in once the others had their food. Yuki sighed quietly and began to eat the vegetables; she watched the Ascian poke at the food as if uncertain.

"Venmont Yards isn't far from Eulmore," Dadfort broke the awkward silence. "It's the closest dock to the city, and the least distance you'd need to walk without an airship up." He brought a tray to the table with 4 cups of coffee, some cream and sugar. "We're heading straight there, but it will still take some time to cross the Divide to Kholusia. Whenever you get tired, feel free to sleep. Likely won't get there 'til morning."

"We're grateful for your hospitality, my good man," Emet-Selch smiled at the Galdjent fisherman.

"Least I could do is provide some food after making you wait longer for the ship than I meant to." He smiled and gestured to the coffee tray. "Please take your time eating. I'm gonna head above deck and trade off with my First Mate so's he can eat too." The captain headed off with another tray. It held two more plates and cups of coffee. He seemed a bit better now that they were on the water, though he had repeated that he wouldn't stay longer than simply dropping them off.

As soon as they were alone, Yuki used her fork to point at Emet-Selch. "What's wrong with your dinner? Not fancy enough for your exacting tastes?"

"You haven't touched the meat either, Viera."

"I'm still eating," she made a face. Sumire and Shoto silently looked to one another, then both reached for a cup of coffee; they'd eaten half of their crab cakes already. Yuki continued to watch the Ascian; he once again made an uncertain face, and used his fork to poke at what was on his plate... without eating any of it. Yuki ate the rest of her vegetables, leaving only the crab cake. She looked to Shoto, then to Sumire; both of them finished the crab cakes already, though Shoto was taking her time on the veggies. Sumire's plate was empty, and he held his coffee cup against him with both hands.

Yuki realized she'd never seen him turn down any sort of food, even if she felt unsure about it. She was also used to being last to finish... perhaps that was why she futzed about? There wasn't anything particularly odd about the crab cakes; she'd had them before in Limsa Lominsa. These did smell different, but they didn't smell bad.

'You're overthinking it, Yuki, just eat your crab! ' She silently yelled at herself. She started to eat her cakes with a frustrated pout.

Sumire blinked at her, then silently chuckled into his cup. His reaction drew Emet-Selch's attention; the Ascian raised an eyebrow as he looked between the male Miqo'te and the female Viera.

Shoto looked up from her remaining veggies, to Emet-Selch, then to Sumire, then to Yuki. She tilted her head; she didn't quite understand the look the Ascian was giving them.

"Did I miss something...?" Shoto bit her fork. Sumire looked over to her, then to Emet-Selch. He blushed a little as he looked back to Shoto.

"I just found Yuki's pouty eating funny, it wasn't really anything... vital."

"It isn't pouty, Sumire, I was just unfocused!"

"It also looked like a pout to me, Emet-Selch added, in a flat voice. Yuki glared at him, as she managed to keep herself from blushing too much.

The Ascian shrugged, then looked back to the food in front of him. It wasn't fancy, that was true, but neither was the sandwich he ate last night. He'd certainly eaten worse meals.

"You should eat too," Shoto pouted.

Emet-Selch looked up, then back to the food. No one else seemed to react to her words, and it had felt directed... maybe he'd just been distracted. He gave her a dramatic little sigh, then replied playfully, "Well, if you insist."

It had been an exchange out loud, but her feelings had pushed the point home. Yuki seemed focused on Sumire, who had finished his coffee and seemed to be staring at the cup. Emet-Selch made a show of forcing himself to eat, but it wasn't much of one; he found he liked the taste, and decided to simply finish the food.

The rest of dinner went on in mostly silence. When the Ascian finished, he stood up to leave. Sumire looked up, a bit of hesitance in his voice, “You heading back to the room then?”

Emet-Selch rolled his eyes at the question, “Fret not, the room is all yours.” The Ascian did not elaborate any further on his decision, he simply waved a hand as he wandered off.

Yuki frowned as she shook her head. The distrust of the Ascian was still clear on her face, but a tired look from Sumire caused her to frown. “Perhaps, it's best if we all retire to our rooms... we've got a long night ahead of us.”

Shoto nodded in agreement and scooted her chair back. "We should be sure to thank Dadfort for the meal and the ride in the morning." She smiled a bit, then turned to head off. Yuki and Sumire both made a sound in agreement.

The group moved back towards the crew cabins they were staying in. Sumire stopped at the one he was now staying in alone, as the two girls continued on to the further cabin. Yuki paused for a moment at their cabin door, then looked back to Sumire with concern. “If you need anything, you know where our room is…” A blush spread across her cheeks, “N-Not that you would... need anything from us. Whatever.” With a pout, Yuki stormed past Shoto, into their room. The female Miqo'te blinked, then giggled and waved good night to the male Miqo'te.

Sumire gave a tired smile in response, and pushed into the dark cabin. He barely got his door shut, then fumbled with his shirt as he stumbled over to the bed he'd picked earlier. He didn't so much crawl into bed as collapse onto it. Sleep encroached upon him quickly. His eyelids felt heavy as he almost instantly drifted off to sleep.

He could hear the ocean; at least, it certainly sounded like it; it was certainly a lot of water nearby. The smell was more enclosed, almost like a cave, but... drier. Sumire swore he had been in bed only a moment ago... he remembered crawling into it, barely managing to take most of his clothes off first. It felt like he was on something much more solid than that; a rock?

He could hear someone approaching wherever he was; hurried footsteps on solid rock, it sounded like. The person beside him moved closer to his ear, as their hand rested on his shoulder and arm.

"Theia, wake up."

I've heard that name before...

He felt hands on his arm gently shaking him, as the same voice repeated their call.

"Theia, you've been dreaming for a while now. It's time to wake up."

...dreaming...?

"Mmm, Khione, surely I couldn't have been away that long," Sumire heard a female voice answer. It had felt like he had spoken the words, but... he knew he hadn't. The male Miqo'te paused, as he felt someone help him sit up on the rock that he could feel beneath him.

This was so very strange... it was almost like the Echo, yet... it didn't feel right to him.

"Khione... did you happen to see my blindfold on the way here?" The female voice asked, as Sumire felt himself stand. "I lost it somewhere along the path here..."

"No, I hadn't. I'll help you find it on the way back, Theia." Khione replied, apologetically. "And if we can't find it, I'll just get you a new one."

"Thank you," Theia responded, as she took hold of Khione's arm.

This is... not... a dream... is it...?

Sumire realized he wasn't in control of the things he felt, heard, and said... yet... he felt conscious. It was very confusing. He quickly realized the sensations he felt were familiar to him; whoever 'Theia' was, she was blind.

He'd had to learn to sense the world the same way after he'd barely survived the dragon's attack. His right eye was completely blind for years, until he began training as a Dragoon. During that training, he had learned to sense aether and had regained a partial sight that vastly improved his reaction time. He then found he could also use the dragon's blood to see with his right eye more clearly, and that took moons to balance and adjust to.

...He hadn't thought about any of this in a long time.

His focus was pulled back as he felt hands running through his hair; makeshift combing. Yuki had done it to him before, when he'd made them late.

"Your hair is a mess , Theia." Khione's voice playfully scolded.

Sumire let out a breath, as Theia fidgeted, and he decided to relax, and see where this would go.

"That tends to happen," Theia reached up to fluff her own hair; short in the back, with two longer pieces in the front. She wore a slightly oversized robe, which she fixed, then pulled the hood of it up onto her head.

"We were to meet Persephone for tea, if you recall." Khione took Theia's hand to lead her forward. "She said she has someone for us to meet."

"Oh?" Theia perked up, and smiled, "Another star?"

"That's the impression she and Krystallos gave." Khione lifted her hands, and Theia cautiously tapped her foot to find a few rock steps down.

"I wonder what they're like."

"I'm sure they're as unique as we are," Khione said, her grin evident in her voice.

Theia chuckled as they headed along a stone path. She let go of Khione's arm, hurried ahead a few paces, then turned and slowly walked backwards. "I'm glad we were delayed in leaving again. I've almost memorized the whole city... it's such a big, wonderful place."

"You've seemed happier lately," Khione hurried her pace to match Theia's. "Perhaps tonight we could take a walk somewhere you've yet to memorize?"

"I'd like that," Theia smiled, then paused. She turned her head towards a sound and scent that were familiar.

"Persephone, we were just coming to tea. Whatever is the matter?" Khione sounded concerned.

"I'm so sorry. The person I wanted you to meet ran off."

"Are they okay? We don't bite," Theia joked.

Persephone chuckled quietly, then took a moment to catch her breath before she continued. "I don't know. There was a terrible sound, and he panicked. Krystallos went after him... I came to find you both. Have you heard or seen anything?"

"I didn't see anything on the way here," Khione trailed off a bit, thoughtfully.

Theia frowned, "I smell brimstone... and there was a deep growl in the wind." She turned her head into the wind, "The wind is coming from the... park, if I recall my directions."

"We should go," Persephone moved even as she decided. "Carefully."

Khione took Theia's hand, and moved to follow her, "If we find whatever made the noise and scent you caught, I'll find you a safe place for you to stay before I go to help Persephone. Okay?"

"Okay." Theia shifted her hold to Khione's arm, and they sped up a bit.

They hadn't run long before Theia slowed, and coughed. Khione turned to check on her immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"The brimstone smell," she coughed, then reached a hand up to her mouth and nose, "it's mixed with a smoky smell... and it's really strong." Another cough into her hand was followed by a deep growl.

"That sound came from that way," Persephone said, worriedly. "I can't tell if it's coming from the city or heading towards it, though."

"Theia, stay here." Khione hurriedly led her to a large, sturdy tree, then placed her hands on the trunk. "We'll go see what it is making that sound and smell."

Theia nodded, as she coughed again, then frowned. She felt a silk cloth placed into her hand, then lifted her head a bit.

"Take this, it should help with the smell that's bothering you."

"B-But... Persephone... isn't this... your scarf?"

"If it helps you, then I don't mind." Persephone absolutely beamed, as she gently pushed Theia's hand with the scarf. "Stay here, we'll be right back, okay?"

"Th-Thank you." Theia nodded gratefully, then hurriedly tied the scarf around her face to cover her nose and mouth. The smell instantly muted, and she no longer felt the strong urge to cough. She shifted to hold onto the tree, and listened carefully for any signs of trouble or anything she needed to run from.

Her thoughts turned to dreams, and she frowned; her fingers gripped the trunk a little. She scrunched her nose a little, then shook her head. "That dream still haunts me. A city of fire. Alone in the flames. Why do I keep seeing it...?" Theia frowned, then quietly rested her head against the tree. She spoke quietly to herself after a thoughtful moment, "Khione, I worry... is it... because of what happened... then...?" Her thoughts trailed off as she caught the sudden sound of splashing in the distance, followed by faint crying, and a whimper. "I wonder... if that's who we were supposed to meet...?" She turned her head a bit, then sniffed. "Hm...?" She sniffed again, through the scarf...

"Wait... This is near the gazebo we've met at before! I can smell that odd tree from here... even over the brimstone scent." Theia smiled a bit at her recognition, then left the tree. She hurried forward; one hand reaching out for a railing she knew should be around.

It turned out to be further away than she had expected, but she reached the familiar gazebo, and hurried up the few stairs to sit on a bench. The sounds of snarling and items breaking made her flinch, but she took a deep breath and closed her eyes to focus. Her left hand came up to hold her right shoulder as her head lowered.

Sumire felt a sudden shift, and flinched as he suddenly saw the strange vision. He adjusted quickly, and felt Theia relax here.

Before them lay a vast field of colors and shapes. He realized these places and images were distorted to him, but to her, they were perfectly normal... He felt they were things that brought her comfort. She knew precisely where she was in the space, and precisely where to go.

I recognize... some of these colors. They're the unchanging shades of aether for flora.

He touched the scar over his right eye.

...She can see... aether...?

He felt confused. It was how he balanced his sight, and therefore used all the time since he learned it. The dragon's blood helped balance the cost of that method, but came with occasional unbidden visions from the dragon. He knew Y'shtola was permanently blind from her time in the lifestream, and she used that method now all the time. So he wondered, if Theia could do it as well, why wasn't she always using her aether sight to navigate...?

He was solely interested in what lay before him. He no longer wondered what this was nor why he was seeing it, but instead, what would happen. Once more his wandering thoughts were interrupted, as he felt Theia stand, then walk over to a large, dark shape. She calmly reached out to place her hands on its head, as she quietly hummed what he recognized as a sort of lullaby. He didn't remember hearing it before... but it still felt familiar.

The big shape growled, then slowly curled up on the ground, as it fell asleep. Once it had stopped moving, Theia turned to hurry back to her seat, just in time for Khione's worried voice beside her.

"Theia?"

"Hmm?" Theia shifted towards the voice. Her arm lowered onto her lap, and pulled the scarf off her face on the way. Khione put an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her in.

After some hurried scuffling, Theia heard Persephone greet Hades, followed by a soft sigh and a snap. She heard crackling of a crystal substance she associated with a cage, or a prison the guards would use on stray creations.

"Where have you been, Hythlodaeus?" Hades asked, exasperated.

"I went to get people to help transport the escapee back!" His grin was evident in his barely held-back chuckle. "C'mon, I knew you had it, Hades." He moved towards the sleeping, crystal-prisoned creature with a flourish of his robe. "And you did!"

Hades sighed, then also moved towards the sleeping creature. "It's quite strange that a wild creature like this managed to escape from Lahabrea's lab... I'll have to have another talk with him about letting experiments get away."

"Th-That... That one... w-was mine," a new voice spoke meekly. "But... I-I don't know why... it would be... here."

"Is that why you ran from the sound, Asopus?" Persephone asked, as she turned toward the two boys.

"I-I'm sorry. It... It was instinct. Th-The sound... scared me," he whimpered, "I thought I'd screwed up again... I-It should have been sealed in Anamnesis!"

Krystallos frowned, concerned, then hugged the younger man comfortingly. "It's okay, Asopus."

"Why was it sealed there ...?" Hades mumbled. The guards shrank the large crystal prison to a more manageable size, then marked it with a caution symbol before transporting it away. It had happened before, Theia knew exactly what they did. She wondered why something that large and potentially dangerous had been loose in the city in the first place, but the danger was over for now; she could always ponder things later.

Hythlodaeus moved to follow the guards, "I'll handle your paperwork, dear friend~! You spend the afternoon with your beloved!" He then chuckled as he hurried off. Persephone ran over to hug Hades in greeting, as Asopus reassured Krystallos he was better now.

Theia blinked her eyes open, then leaned against Khione tiredly. The older woman ran her hand over the younger one's short, blond hair.

Khione spoke quietly, a slightly scolding tone to her voice, "You know how much that takes out of you, Theia. Why didn't you wait for me?"

"I was worried!" Theia leaned her head towards Khione's hand. "It's okay, I knew where I was. I could smell the strange tree that's always in the park."

Khione paused, then looked around, "The strange tree...? There's no odd trees in the park, Theia."

"Yes there is, I can smell it. It's always here when we're here. It's very distinct." Theia took in a deep breath. She then pointed over towards Hades and Persephone, "It's that way. That strange tree is always here, so I know I'm in the park."

There was a moment of silence as Khione looked between Theia and where she was pointing. After a few moments, Theia hadn't changed her position nor said she was joking... and Khione laughed. She drew attention to the two in the gazebo.

Theia pouted, "What's so funny?"

"Theia, you're pointing at Hades," Khione barely managed between chuckles. She hugged the younger woman, who blinked, then took another sniff of the air.

"Hades smells like a tree?"

"Apparently to you. Oh, Theia," Khione continued to laugh, as Theia blushed, then began to laugh with her. She laced her fingers with Khione as she did so, then leaned into her shoulder.

Hades, Persephone, Krystallos, and Asopus weren't able to hear anything but the girls' laughter from where they were, but Hades had seen her point at him. He sighed again, then hugged Persephone as he mumbled about her odd friends. She just snickered in response.

"Are you sure you're okay, Yuki?" Shoto asked, worriedly; her eyes drawn to the unconscious Dragoon on the Summoner's back. Yuki simply nodded and gave an affirmative sound. "Any ideas what's wrong?"

Yuki shook her head, "No... there's only been one other time I had to carry him like this, but he was very sick then." She just continued forward as she replied. Shoto frowned, then hurried on ahead to keep pace with Emet-Selch. Yuki looked to Sumire's violet hair, and mumbled to herself. "...I'm just... worried about you, Sumi."

He whimpered quietly, and shifted. Yuki looked surprised, then cleared her throat as Sumire reached up to his head.

"Oh good, you're finally awake," Yuki spoke, which alerted Shoto and Emet-Selch to the Dragoon's movements.

"Sumire! Are you alright?" Shoto asked as she hurried back. The Dragoon flicked his ears, then lifted his head to look at her.

"Wh... Where am I...?" He looked up a bit, then sounded confused, "Kho...lusia...? H-How long... have I been... out...?"

"Since whenever you fell asleep last night," Yuki replied for her.

Shoto nodded, "We couldn't wake you up when we arrived this morning. You had us worried!" Her tone was scared, yet he could tell she was relieved to be talking to him. Sumire blinked, then frowned as he lowered his head.

"I... I'm sorry," he flinched, then reached to cover his right eye; his chin dug into Yuki's shoulder a little. Shoto gently patted Sumire's head, then hurried forward to keep pace with Emet-Selch once more. She relayed the info to the Ascian as Yuki shook her head.

The Viera slowed a little, to put more distance between them and the Ascian. "Are you really alright, Sumire...?" Her voice shook a little as she asked, despite her best efforts not to.

Sumire frowned, "I'm... not sure. I don't... remember much about last night. I know... we were on the boat. I remember feeling tired after I ate. I had," he trailed off, then lowered his arm to half hug Yuki's shoulders. "...I had a strange dream."

Yuki frowned, then looked forward again, "Was it one of those dreams?"

"N-No," Sumire stuttered, as he shook his head. He had always told her his 'bad feelings' came from 'the dragon's dreams'. They were what made him wary of situations... and helped them avoid trouble sometimes. This hadn't been anything like that, though... He looked up, then flinched as he looked to Shoto and Emet-Selch, "No, it... I-I'm sorry... for making you... take care of me."

"It's fine," she shifted him a little on her back, "We couldn't very well leave you behind."

"Y-You can... let me off... a-at the aetheryte shard near the entrance. I don't... I don't think I can... make the trek up to it yet." He let go of Yuki's shoulders with one arm, and once again held his head, favoring covering his right eye.

She frowned in response, then lowered her head a little. "Don't be ridiculous. I'll take the stairs up. We'll find you a place in the parlor to sit and rest."

"But--"

"No buts. I won't have you passing out again because you used the aethernet while low on aether."

Sumire blinked, low on aether...? He hadn't thought that might be the problem... was that... what someone had noticed?

Yuki noticed his silence. "Are you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad...?" He lowered his arm, then looked down to the path. "I... I hadn't thought of that... being my issue. I should have listened to you when you noticed something was wrong... I'm sorry."

Yuki shook her head as they passed some familiar faces in Gatetown. Most people left them alone, though, even though they could see one of the group being carried. Things were still slow to change, but it didn't seem to bother the Viera. Shoto turned to look back at the two worriedly. Yuki simply nodded and gave her a small, reassuring smile to let her keep going. "Do you remember Ala Mhigo, Sumire?"

"Which... part?"

Yuki gave a nostalgic smile, then glanced at his face for a moment. She took a breath and looked up to the gates ahead of them, "I carried you for a long distance to keep us ahead of the Imperials. You were sick with that terrible fever, but we couldn't stay still. We were the last two left from our group, and they chased us all the way to Kugane."

"I... remember some of that... I was... very out of it then," Sumire mumbled, with a blush.

Yuki chuckled, then nodded, "I took care of you for a week, and didn't stop until we'd found a way to get to Doma..." She frowned, "I didn't want either of us caught... I was so grateful for the Doman Resistance. They didn't have to help us, but... they helped take care of your fever."

"I remember waking up to that Doman girl poking my arm," he mumbled into Yuki's shoulder.

"She was worried! You had been asleep for two days straight," Yuki chuckled, then trailed off. She looked down as they approached the steps up to the entrance of Eulmore. "I was... scared that would happen again. The way you've been acting lately... when we couldn't wake you after we arrived at Venmont Yards... all I could think of was that I had to get you to Eulmore. That Alphinaud might be able to help. Shoto couldn't find anything wrong with you." She briefly glanced up to the guards. They greeted the group as they passed through the door. Shoto and Emet-Selch headed off to head up the stairs, and they seemed to be caught up in a conversation. Yuki wasn't paying much attention to them nor where she was walking. She was distracted enough that she just kept going forward without stopping. Sumire didn't seem to notice either.

"Thank you... Khione," The Dragoon jerked as the name left his mouth. He reached up to cover his mouth, then sounded confused. "Wh... Why did I say that...?"

Yuki wanted to ask who Khione was, but she felt like she should already know that somehow, and never spoke the question. She stopped as she looked up to see they were by the elevator, and blinked. "Ah, I went too far. I wasn't paying attention." Sumire looked ready to be sick, with his hand over his mouth. Yuki looked a bit worn from their conversation.

"Good morning, ma'am! You seem to need the elevator," a Mystel guard spoke up, even as a Hume turned his head away. The Mystel turned to open the doors for Yuki, and gave her an apologetic smile. "This will take you the whole way up. Please relax."

Yuki heard the Hume grumble something, but it was incoherent.

The Mystel seemed to understand him though, then hissed, "Quiet. "

"Thank you," Yuki replied, quietly, and accepted the elevator trip. Sumire stayed silent until they were alone, on the way up.

"You can let me down."

"Sumire."

"I'll take my time walking, and I will sit in the parlor while you go find Alphinaud. If Y'shtola has arrived, I'm sure they're talking." Sumire shifted, and Yuki carefully let go of his legs. He caught himself on the elevator handrail, then leaned against the wall. "Thank you... Yuki. I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"Nonsense," she crossed her arms, as she stared at the doors before them. "I don't mind making sure you're okay... Sumi."

The Miqo'te Dragoon fidgeted, his tail flick back and forth thoughtfully. Sumire then looked up to Yuki, but couldn't find any words to say. He felt guilty for the trouble he'd caused, and that he hadn't told Yuki how he truly felt. His eye was making him dizzy, he was having trouble focusing, and he had felt more exhausted than ever after they left. His ears pinned back, "I didn't want anyone to worry about me... and... instead, I made you all worry about me more. I hadn't thought that my problems could be aether-related, I just... I thought I was doing something wrong. I tried to push through it and take care of it myself, but... that hasn't worked. I don't know what to do now."

"We'll figure out what's going on. Perhaps Y'shtola might have an insight to your aether problem. I'll ask her after we've caught up on everything."

"Yuki... I passed out on you when I was asleep." Sumire stood up, his tail flicked in annoyance with himself. "That's... That's not just a simple problem. I can't just try to sleep more and eat better."

"Maybe it has something to do with your eye," Yuki frowned, but she stayed staring at the door ahead of her. Questions formed in her mind; what she could ask of Y'shtola.

"I feel like I want to sleep for days..." Yuki stiffened her shoulders at his admission. Her ear twitched as he continued, "There's a part of me that's not surprised you couldn't wake me... but... that dream I had while unconscious confuses me. I saw..." He trailed off. Yuki finally turned to look down to him.

"...You saw what, Sumire...?"

"I saw... nothing. Except... near the end. I saw what looked like a hallucination. It was just... colors and shapes then. Everything else was... sounds. Smells. Sensations."

"That's... an odd dream."

"Yuki..."

"Hm...?"

Sumire flicked his ears, then looked up to her, concerned. His right eye was closed, as if it bothered him. "It felt like when I was younger. Right after I was hurt."

"When you... lost... your sight...?" She looked to his right eye, and he nodded once.

"They weren't sure if I'd be able to see again, so they covered both of my eyes until the wound healed. I lived like that for a few years. They figured that I'd been completely blinded and never bothered to check... I just... accepted that."

Yuki nearly forgot where they were, and turned to look at Sumire fully. She only knew pieces of his past. He'd never hidden the fact that his eye was technically blind, but she didn't know that much detail. "They eventually learned you could still see then?"

"S-Sort of. The Matron wanted to see if I could get rid of the blindfold. My left eye was very sensitive to light for nearly a moon until it adjusted to being used again. I felt very lucky I had retained any sight, but... it took a long time to adjust..."

"This dream of yours felt like that, then...?"

"It was the dream of someone who had no sight. Everything else was amplified to make up for that. The pieces I could see anything in, were so fanciful and colorful, as if the person had never seen what anything was really like, but... I," he trailed off, his tail curled the other way, and he touched his chest. "I felt like I knew what everything was supposed to be... even if I don't quite remember every little detail now."

"Maybe it was just your mind remembering something from then. You were unconscious." Yuki explained. Sumire shook his head before he had a chance to think about her reply, but he took a moment to think.

"I... I heard..."

Yuki tilted her head as he hesitated. Even she could hear the bustle from the Canopy as the elevator slowed, and glanced to the doors. "You heard what, Sumire?"

"...Emet-Selch."

The doors opened with a ding, as the elevator stopped. Yuki couldn't respond, as Shoto called for them, worriedly. Yuki took Sumire's arm to help him walk out of the elevator. He accepted her help and let her choose what seat he would sit in.

"I was so worried when I looked back and realized you two weren't behind us. I was going to take the elevator back down. Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Shoto. One of the guards down below let us use the elevator to come up. We took the offer. I'm sorry we worried you." Yuki smiled. Shoto shook her head and sat across from Sumire at the table.

"Sumire, are you feeling better?"

"I-I'll be okay. However, I promised Yuki I'd wait here for you to find Alphinaud. I won't go anywhere, I promise," he smiled at her, reassuringly.

Shoto pouted a little, then nodded and pointed a finger at him. "Okay, but I'll hold you to that!"

He blinked, then smiled a little and nodded, "If I don't behave, I expect both you and Yuki to let me have it." He gave Shoto a small chuckle, then looked out to the ocean. He seemed immediately distracted, and the female Miqo'te stood up to look at Yuki.

"Any idea where," Yuki paused, then glanced around, "...where our other... associate... is?"

"He... said he didn't want to cause trouble up here... in case someone recognized him." Shoto frowned, then crossed her arms, "So he went back down for a walk. That's how I realized you two weren't behind us on the stairs."

Yuki frowned, disapprovingly. "I feel like we shouldn't let him out of our sight."

"He won't leave." Shoto immediately argued, then blushed slightly. "That is. He promised me he'd stay around the area before he headed off..."

Yuki frowned more, then looked to Shoto for a moment before she gave up for now. She looked past Shoto, "Alright, alright... but do we have any ideas where Alphinaud might be?"

"He may be in a morning meeting with Chai-Nuzz upstairs. We could ask?"

"Hey. Come to think of it... that guard said the elevator would take us all the way to the top, but it stopped here..."

"That's probably just a habit. It's been a long time since anyone could freely go upstairs, remember?" Shoto turned to head off. She spied Alphinaud heading over to the parlor with Chai-Nuzz and cheered up immediately. "There he is! I was right!" She wiggled her ears proudly, then turned to look at Yuki. The Viera had looked back to Sumire in the moment of silence. Shoto pouted, then tugged her arm. "Yuki, c'mon. Let's go check in with Alphinaud."

"Eh?" She blinked, then looked away from the Dragoon, and spied Alphinaud; who had caught sight of them across the way, and waved. Shoto happily waved back and headed off. Yuki hesitated, but followed her a moment later.

None of us meant for this update to take over a month. @_@; It feels like the time literally just blew past. But! Here's Chapter 16 for all of you lovely starlings. Angel's computer is having issues, so the art of Theia that she'd been working on for the Amarout portion of this chapter got lost. :( As always, thank you all for your support and patience!

[tcm]

Life at Sea: The Nautical Adventures of Classic Hollywood By Raquel Stecher

To escape the trappings of fame, Humphrey Bogart, Errol Flynn and Sterling Hayden took to the open seas in search of peace and quiet. Sailing offered an opportunity to invest their energy in something other than movie making and to find some much-needed solace. Let’s take a look at these three movie stars and their passion for all things nautical.

Humphrey Bogart

“Unless you really understand the water and understand the reason for being on it and understand the love of sailing and the feeling of quietness and solitude, you don't really belong on a boat anyway.” – Humphrey Bogart

The greatest love of Bogart’s life, besides Lauren Bacall and their two children, was his yacht the Santana. In Bacall’s memoir she wrote, “if ever I had a woman to be jealous of, she was the Santana.” Bogart’s love of sailing began in childhood with family trips to Lake Canandaigua in New York. When Bogart became a movie star, he indulged his interest in sailing and purchased a motor yacht he named Sluggy. It also happened to be the nickname he gave to his then wife, Mayo Methot. He found comfort being at sea. It was an escape from his turbulent marriage and his busy shooting schedule. Whenever he needed some peace and quiet, he would take his yacht out onto the waters to disconnect from everything.

He sold Sluggy and eventually bought Santana, the 54-foot yacht that he named after the yacht featured in his film KEY LARGO (’48). According to Bacall, Bogart was infatuated with the Santana. He learned everything about her history, participated in races with her, had a miniature model of her and even named his production company, which produced such films as IN A LONELY PLACE (’50) and BEAT THE DEVIL (’53), Santana Productions. He was a member of the Newport Harbor Yacht Club and Los Angeles Yacht Club and would often take Bacall on his seafaring adventures. Bogart’s dying wish was for his ashes to be scattered over the Pacific Ocean. Unfortunately, the practice was illegal at the time and he was laid to rest in Forest Lawn Memorial. In lieu of a casket, the model of the Santana stood at his wake.

Errol Flynn 

“The only real wives I have ever had have been my sailing ships.” – Errol Flynn

Australian-born Errol Flynn, the swashbuckling star of seafaring adventures such as CAPTAIN BLOOD (’35), THE SEA HAWK (’40) and AGAINST ALL FLAGS (’52), was an avid sailor in his own right. He was a direct descendant, on his mother’s side, of Midshipman Ned Young, a mutineer on the HMS Bounty in the late 1700s. This connection would come in handy with his first movie role IN THE WAKE OF THE BOUNTY (’33), which was about that historic mutiny. Warner Bros. publicized their new star as a descendant of Fletcher Christian, whom he plays in the film, instead of Young, to drum up interest in the film. Before acting, Flynn held many jobs, including charter-boat captain, river boat guide, fisherman and shipping clerk. Flynn grew up near the Hobart and Sydney Harbors and developed a great love for sailing.

In 1937, he wrote and published his first memoir, Beam Ends, a reference to the nautical term “on the beam ends”, in which he discussed his seven-month journey from Sydney Harbor to New Guinea and back on his boat the Sirocco. He named his next boat Sirocco as well, instead of Sirocco II, which went against nautical superstitions.

When Flynn and actress Lili Damita divorced in 1942, she won their home in an alimony suit and Flynn lived on his yacht. He spent the last years of his life living in Jamaica with his third wife Patrice Wymore and his trusty schooner Zaca. He went on many adventures with the Zaca traveling to Mexico and throughout the Caribbean. At the end of his life, the financially strapped Flynn was forced to sell the Zaca but died of a heart attack before he could do so.

Sterling Hayden

“I caught a glimpse of the harbor. The glow inside me turned to a dancing flame. At the end of a sun-swept wharf lay a ship with two high masts. She was gone in a flash but I knew I’d be back, and I shivered.” – Sterling Hayden

When his mother and stepfather moved the family to Tumbler Island in Boothbay Harbor, Maine, Hayden became sea-struck. According to Hayden biographer Lee Mandel, he was “enchanted by the ocean” and immediately set out to seek a life at sea. He had no interest in becoming a fisherman. Hayden instead dreamed of traveling on the high seas and visiting exotic locales along the way. He wasted no time in making his dream a reality. At age 16, he got a job on a schooner headed for California called the Puritan. Hayden seemed destined to be a sailor. He was eager to learn and athletic enough to endure the backbreaking work that went into long voyages at sea. Unfortunately, life as a sailor didn’t pay well and it was a pair of seafaring buddies who convinced him to find a new job that would help pay for his interest in sailing. He auditioned for a movie role and the rest was history.

Hayden didn’t want to become a movie star. He saw it as a means to an end: a way to earn enough money to get back to the sea. In 1955, he purchased the schooner the Wanderer for $200,000. A few years later, he planned to take his four children on a long voyage aboard the Wanderer. He was in a bitter custody battle with his wife Betty. Hayden got custody of his kids but was told by the judge he couldn’t take them on his planned voyage because of the condition of the ship. Hayden ignored the judge and took them anyways. Now a fugitive of the law, Hayden, his children and his crew went on a 10-month journey across the Pacific to Tahiti and back. Hayden eventually had to sell off the Wanderer to pay off debts, something that pained him greatly. In 1998, he wrote a memoir called The Wanderer, about his life and love of sailing.

[eusjason]

                                                         ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀,                                                              & 𝕛𝕠𝕪 ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵘʳᵉ ;

› 𝟎𝟎𝟏: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵?

          in the northern reaches of canada, playful outdoor hockey on frozen lakes known as shinny is as sure of a past time as huddling up by the fireplace. never one to be bothered by the cold, jason spent most of the young childhood skating out on some lake or another, usually with friends or teammates until they eventually called it quits when the sun started to sink lower and the even colder night chill began to roll in. he should’ve left with them, really, his mother was going to worry as she always did — though never as much as the other mothers, not out of any less concern, but perhaps she knew that water would not harm jason. all the times he’d gotten picked out of the frigid saguenay fjord and didn’t get so much as a cold were probably a dead giveaway.

          so he’s alone when it happens, probably for the best : it means the mist doesn’t have to work overtime to alter the memories of his friends. winter is just starting to break into the warmer season of spring, the worst time of year if you ask jason. it just signals the end of outdoor hockey, soon to be moved to the confines of a temperature controlled rink. he’s stubborn, intent on getting every hour out of the frozen ice on the lake that he possibly can, even if that means avoiding certain spots of the lake. but he must miscalculate because he hears the telltale cracking of ice beneath his skates — and not the comforting deep cracking sounds that accompanies a freezing lake. this is the bad kind of cracking, the one that proceeds plunging into freezing water and possibly dying of hypothermia. tyler’s mother had showed them all a video of someone falling through thin ice when they were all old enough to want to skate on the lake, probably to shake fear and caution into them ( it’s worked, for the most part ). for the first time out on the lake, jason is terrified.

          it’s probably this terror that unlocks what will become his specialty in the years to come. he never plunges into the icy depths of the lake ( even though if he had, he would’ve remained dry and unaffected ), because he freezes the whole thing solid. he then passes out because of it, the volume of water he just changed something he won’t have the stamina to repeat for quite a while. his mother and the father of one of his friends find him on the lake much later, burning up from fever, his eleven year old body trying to cope with the excess energy it just absorbed.

          it’s a mystery what happened exactly, to everyone but his mother had known eventually the godly part of his blood would demand to manifest as more than an ease on ice or the way beluga whales always seemed to come to whatever boat he was on. it’s on a boat in the middle of the saint lawrence that she tells him the truth. jason takes it pretty well, for someone just told his father is the lord of the sea. if anything, he knows it to be true the moment his mother tells him, the final piece of a puzzle falling into place.

          not long after his twelfth birthday that summer, instead of staying in saguenay, he’s shipped off to camp voreios even further north in canada.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟐: 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮����𝘨𝘰𝘥?

          leila goldhirsch never had any doubts of the child she carried for nine months and then loved from the moment he was born. she always knew it was a bit of inevitability that his godly side would present itself, much like the ocean never deigns to be ignored. there was always more to that man she had a brief but momentous relationship with, more than just the kinda captain of the ship she used for that whole summer studying beluga whales in the saint lawrence. she didn’t know whether or not to believe him when he said he was the lord of the sea, but like the ocean, the truth is undeniable. and so she did her best to raise jason normally, worried like any good mother though his father had promised to keep him safe.

          ( he still doesn’t know this — but one of those fisherman who picked him out of the fjord had been him ).

          — and she worried after the attack, wanting to protect her son but having no way of protecting him from the monsters that were inside his head. she’ll always worry, probably, though she’s happy that he seems to have found himself again at eonia.

          jason’s stepfather is a whole other story, just for the simple fact that he doesn’t know about poseidon, still believing jason’s biological father was simply the boat captain of a ship many, many years ago. jason and his mother never figured out a way to too tell him and well... it feels a little too late for that now.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟑: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

          he’s just arrived at camp voreios, age twelve and fitting in even more easily than most despite his young age — sparking the rumor that he must be a son of hermes. he’d been aware of his godly parentage even for a few months now in an unofficial sense, though still officially “unclaimed,” not that it made a whole lot of difference at camp voreios who roomed attendees by age instead of godly parentage. he remains quiet to the fact though, appreciating the suspense of it all even at a young age.

          it’s a few days later after the first campwide game that things get official. jason’s fresh off scoring a game-winning goal when the glowing sea-green trident appears over his head effectively hushing the previously rowdy arena.

          camp voreios had never had a child of poseidon before : he was the first.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟒: 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱?

          camp voreios, the northern camp ( grammatically i think it should actually be voreios camp but to stick with pjo naming conventions... ), sits in some of the most remote reaches of quebec, far by pretty much all terms, and it is here that some of the most elite demigods are trained. obscured from mortal eyes as a longterm and extremely competitive program for only the most elite youth hockey players, there’s a bit of truth to that. most who attend that camp are between the ages of twelve and eighteen, the graduates commonly accepted into colleges with impressive hockey programs and a very select few like jason into the canadian hockey league. though almost all in attendance could easily fit in talentwise in the chl, most opt to not go through the additional testing and training into order to determine if they’re fit to go the professional route. their “recruitment” is a smattering of satyr scouts and coaches who scour youth hockey programs for demigods.

          the camp sits on the edge of a lake, something jason found incredibly satisfying and it was on this lake this he truly honed his abilities of phase manipulation of water and water sensitivity. he did dabble in the other aspects of hydrokinesis ( specifically, the manipulation of actual water ) at least enough to be respectable at it, but he found it more dull and less useful, preferring to explore control of water in its ice state. you’d never see him try to create a tsunami wave or something.

          a hockey centric demigod camp was as exciting as it came. though they would play against mortal teams to learn to exercise control over their abilities in the heat of a game ( and as a result, learn to control themselves in high emotion situations ), there were plenty of demigod hockey games that were almost a free for all. the only thing they didn’t allow jason to do was manipulate the actual ice of the rink, citing that was a bit of an unfair advantage even for them. camp voreios was also the home to the art of swordplay on ice, more for pure fun than any true necessity — though it was argued that the heightened speed of a fight on ice was good for developing reflexes and training the mind to analyze an opponent more quickly. there’s probably some truth to that.

          camp voreios, unlike many demigod camps, was not a summer camp. instead it ran around the hockey season, meaning it took students for the duration of the school year and released them to do as they pleased in the summer though many stayed the duration. occupants are schooled with a mixture of online and at local schools. jason was in attendance at camp voreios from ages twelve to sixteen almost year round, save for the month of july when he returned home to saguenay. the intent of camp voreios was to rigorously train their attendees for the real world — practically the epitome of tough love.

          at sixteen, jason knew he wanted to try to peruse hockey professionally if he could, the fourth of camp voreios attendees who expressed this intention. the camp only allowed the most elite on the ice and more apt at protecting themselves to enter professional leagues where there was a much higher profile and higher risk. jason passed their aptitude tests and so at sixteen, he was drafted to the rouyn-noranda huskies and left camp voreios, though he’d return in the summer occasionally as well as encounter and maybe help a little bit some on their yearly scavenger hunt.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟓: 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴?

          camp voreios didn’t get sent on an awful lot of quests compared to much bigger camps, though the directors of the camp often sent campers out on their own in an unofficial capacity in order to gain “real world experience” tussling with real monsters and getting a taste of real danger — call it that tough love. most common was a massive scavenger hunt that took up nearly three weeks every spring after hockey season ended where the entire camp was split into groups of two or three and sent out across north america to retrieve increasingly rare items.

          however, jason was sent on one official god-sanctioned quest at the tender age of thirteen. he’d been at camp for about a year and a half at that point and participated in one scavenger hunt and thus deemed ready. gotta start them young, right ?? besides, it was a quest for one of the missing prongs on the trident of poseidon, and as the only child of poseidon at camp voreios who else was supposed to go ?? he was dispatched with a daughter of aphrodite ( 15 ) and son of hermes ( 16 ), though jason’s leadership skills soon became evident even as young as he was. the quest took them two weeks to complete, and took them everywhere from the stiffling grand canyon ( not jason’s favorite place ) to niagara falls ( marginally better ), culminating with them on the coast of nova scotia, the first time jason had seen the real ocean. he’ll claim he jumped, witnesses claim he fell, but either way, he ended up deep in the atlantic ocean where he finally met his godly father for the first time.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟔: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵?

          jason met poseidon when he was thirteen and he was nothing like he expected. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but much like the sea he supposes it depends. poseidon has never felt different than the sea on a calm day. he’d say his relationship with him is more the positive side of neutral then negative, despite the fact they’ve only spoken face to face a handful of times. 

          jason never was someone who needed words to know he was cared for and he recognizes the ways poseidon cares for him as his son in ways other than words : in the safe passages he grants him every fall and spring as he sails over the atlantic, the way he feels at home in the ocean, and the way he’d been soothed and in some ways healed by the ocean after the attack. he just takes their contact it as it is, seeing no reason to wish for things to be different than they are.

› 𝟎𝟎𝟕: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

          the day jason learned about his water sensitivity was one of the best in his life. though it’s hardly as flashy as his hydrokinesis, the additional perspective is one his cherishes quite closely. there’s something to be said for feeling like you connect to the world, even in the oddest of ways. he can’t deny he loves freezing water though — there’s nothing like skating under and open sky and with a bit of work, his hydrokinesis ability made that possible.

          there is, of course, his prowess on the ice, though he’s not sure if he wants to contribute that to being a demigod. he’d like to believe that even without godly blood in his veins that he still would’ve been good enough to be drafted into the chl. 

› 𝟎𝟎𝟖: 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘥?

          power comes with a cost, and sometimes jason thinks that price is too high. as much as he knows he can’t wring the godly blood out of him, there are days he wishes he could is only to save what he’d been building in rouyn-noranda. evan had been young, beautiful, talented, and very much mortal. there’s no reason he or any of the others of his team should have had to die because a pack of monsters were intent on slaying the son of poseidon. it’s an endless battle in jason’s head between what he knows to be true and the endless guilt he still feels constricted around his heart. because what’s the point of having power if it still wasn’t enough to protect the people he cared about ??

› ����𝟎𝟗: 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺?

          it’s rare to see jason without osisko, his celestial bronze sword that also takes the convenient forms of a hockey stick or a bronze bracelet on his left wrist. it was a gift to him when he was drafted into the chl at sixteen ( visuals and more detailed information on osisko HERE ). it is without a doubt his main weapon, and the one he’s most trained at, though if he had to he could fight with a trident pretty well ( thanks dad ). given osisko’s ability to return to him even if lost in battle, he rarely has to default to other weapons, though at even closer hand-to-hand combat with daggers or knives, he’s proficient as well since the concept is quite similar. where he severely lacks is in any long range weapons like archery or spears — sadly his accuracy with a puck does not seem to translate to arrows or anything of the type.

          jason isn’t absolute top tier elite at swordplay, though he holds his own quite respectively and probably comes in the top ten percent, aided in part by his sheer athleticism due to the strong, active life he’s lived since he was quite young, training both to be a demigod and a good hockey player. factor in his hydrokinesis when available, and you can probably get him to the top five percent. he can get quite competitive in matchups, which also informs his ability to hold his own out of sheer will. there’s also something to be said that he attended a demigod camp practically year round for four years, allowing him a much longer length of training in his formative years than just the typical three month summer camp.

          he has extremely good endurance ( endurance and like... endurance 😉, y’know ?? alsdkfjlsks ) and often fights smarter, not harder, using his opponent’s weaknesses and the environment to his advantage. as a defenseman, he’s quick to analyze offensive players of the fastest paced sport in the world to hinder their plan by the time they get to the blueline   — this ability transfers beautifully to battle proficiency and fights. he has to work quite hard to get as good as he has, the observing part he was always quite good at, it was getting his fighting ability up to the level where he could actually do something to hinder the offense he knew was coming. he obviously most easily gains the upper hand when on the beach, a boat, or if someone foolishly decides they do want to face him in one of camp voreios’ created past times : swordplay on ice.