#solst

[yourninjasareajoke]

spring break and track and mario and yeah

not chronological order but basically the past two weeks. i love mcc league meets 🫶🏻👍🏻😎💪🏻🌲

[seamus-ly]

Developer Interview (hosted by @vividfoundry)

I was interviewed by Tanya of Vivid Foundry over on Twitter! We talk about how I deal with taking on different tasks across disciplines, and even what my favourite characters are in the game itself.

(Which is coming out this year, by the way, be sure to wishlist us on Steam if you're interested in keeping up to date! 😎)

I've been working with this development team for almost 2 years, and it's been incredible. I'm happy to speak on some of my experiences so far, and hopefully once we can start spoiling things, I can do it again with some more detail.

Check out the interview thread starting here!

It will also be posted to other sites after the fact in a more readable format!

[qhoaaaa]

Ah shit winter solstice guys

Someone check on the Shaw pack , they need their calm-tf-down chewies i got from petco

[utaesthetics]

JB-Solsting

[telestoapologist]

SUN KING

WARLOCK // AWOKEN // VOIDWALKER

✦ 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗺 - crown of tempests exotic (queensguard valor) ✦ 𝗴𝗮𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘀 - unyielding favor (default) ✦ 𝗿𝗼𝗯𝗲𝘀 - unyielding favor (default) ✦ 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝘁𝘀 - frostreach (queensguard valor) ✦ 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱 - celestial (queensguard valor)

[kawiifury]

WHAT'S FAITH X HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON?!?!?!? and I was also painting with a friend of mine [ SolSt ] . He asked me not to give out his social media accounts :D

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @alwaysfarawayeyes based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

The First Candle

---

The lighting of the first candle in the winter solstice tree should be done by the head of the family, at dawn, on the day of the celebration. That is the tradition. 

When Fíli was young, and Kíli even younger, their father would light the first candle in the family tree. It had always been a magical moment for Fíli, although Kíli now claimed he could not remember. Kíli had been eight years old when their father died.

Their mother took over her late husband's task in the years thereafter. She honored their father and made it special for their little family. Fíli and Kíli both remember being in awe of this moment, year after year. 

It was only in the year Thorin took over the task, that it all started going south. 

Thorin had been a relative stranger to them up until that point in their lives. Always on the road, searching but never finding. The brothers had grown up on stories of their uncle, the King without a Kingdom. He was noble and kind and hardworking, that is how their mother described him. 

Fíli had thought he was kind enough, a little strict, but generally fair. Until Thorin announced he would light the first candle in the tree the following morning, only days after arriving in their home. 

"Don't be so old fashioned. That rule of the oldest male lighting the candle has not been relevant since we left Erebor. I am perfectly capable to do it myself." Dis had replied.

"I don't doubt your capabilities, it's just not appropriate." Thorin had argued.

Kíli's thunderous expression should have warned Fíli of his intentions, but he had been too dumbfounded by Thorin's audacity. Dis had argued back but had ultimately given in to Thorin's demand.

"What's wrong?" Fíli slurred, having been roughly awakened by his little brother. Kíli had not quite reached puberty, so his voice was high pitched in his excitement.

"We're going to teach uncle a lesson."

Fíli tried to look unimpressed but Kíli's grin let him know his curiosity must have shown on his face.

"Tell me." Fíli asked, sitting up and grabbing for his boots beside his bed.

"You'll see."

Fíli did see, and so did their uncle and mother when they saw the tree the following morning.

"Who lit the candle?" Thorin asked, anger resonating in his voice.

"It must have been mother." Kíli replied. "It was her job after all."

Thorin turned to her, but she denied all involvement. He believed her, and did not punish Fíli or Kíli, but Fíli suspected it was mostly because he had only been staying with them for a short while.

Kíli did not stop smiling the rest of the day.

It was exactly a year later when Kíli woke him again, hours before dawn on the day of the winter solstice.

"Let's go." Kíli hissed, throwing his boots at him.

"We'll get in trouble. Thorin won't hesitate like he did last year."

"We'll be fine. It's the solstice, he can't stay mad all day."

But Thorin definitely could. 

"Was all this worth lighting the stupid first candle?" Fíli asked his brother when passing what must have been the 100th plate he had washed for Kíli to dry.

"So worth it."

And thus their tradition continued. Thorin got up earlier every year to try and catch them, but Kíli had been training to hunt and was excellent at sneaking around.

It was all fun and games until the year Thorin had decided to keep watch underneath the tree, but had fallen asleep. While turning, he had tipped the burning candle and as a result the tree had burned down completely. Thorin had gotten away, but warned his nephews not to do it again.

"Who sleeps underneath a tree?! Only Elves do that." Kíli had yelled after his fourth ale. Thorin had tried not to laugh, but failed.

Their tradition was not forgotten while on the road to Erebor, and Kíli had speculated about the size of the winter solstice tree in Erebor and the number of guards Thorin would station around it. 

It turned out, Thorin did not station any guards with the tree. The new King under the Mountain had commissioned the Elves to deliver a gigantic tree to the main hall of Erebor. Fíli knew the candles in the tree would reflect beautifully in the golden floor.

"Let's go!" Kíli awoke him. Fíli smiled at the familiarity of their childhood tradition. He grabbed his crutches after tying his boots and walked behind Kíli, undoubtedly leading them towards the main hall.

Kíli was up ahead, scouting for any trouble, when he started laughing uncontrollably. Fíli sped up, eager to see what had made his brother so happy. There it was, front and center in the large tree, a single burning candle.

Thorin had won this round, but Fíli knew his brother would come up with an elaborate scheme next year. He couldn't wait.

[jiubilant]

wondering why solstheim is called solstheim. feels a little odd to slap an entire island with the "home" suffix. maybe it's named for an ancient historical or mythic figure? solst's home?

[adventures-in-asexuality]

hap solst hap solst

[ohwynne]

Left on Wynne’s pillow, with a note:

Wynne,

Key opens Axis. Blade is just in case. Happy Solsta Solste Solstice. Here for you, always.

- Emilio

Wynne checks the sharpness of the blade and then puts the key on their keyring. The best gift are the words here for you, always.

[empresskae]

A world Map

Hello, I am Empress Kae. I am an artist, rigger, vtuber, and soon to be webtoon artist and author. I asked my audience what they would like to see first before the release of the webtoon. The wanted some world building so I decided to give you the most scuffed map possible. This is will a be a simplified version of the map as we will explore the regions in more detail later. This was also a good way to introduce the races you'll find, and the magic system of the story.

So Lets go

Ville du Voile

Of course I'd spell it wrong on the map

Voile for short, this is a city that surrounds the entire mortal realm. This uses the tarsus science of “it’s bigger on the inside.” The city actually goes over the realm like a dome. It’s about the size of Tokyo, even though the mortal realm is infinitely bigger. If you look down, you’ll see a huge faint galaxy. 

This is where a lot of races and magic types live in peace. IT’s culturally diverse, but still has its downsides. This is the port of entry not only for travel to the mortal realm but also into the greater multiverse that’s not even going to come up until much later. Since it’s the port of entry, a lot of administration duties are done within the city. This was one of the palaces for empress Kassiopeia. 

This is the first defense and last defense position for the mortal realm. First defense in case there is a threat that comes from within the realm like a rogue god. This is the last defense position if all other cities have fallen. 

Never Ending Forest

Home to fey and elemental magic users. The forest is filled with many different types of ecosystems, cities and no one knows if it truly never ends. They are finding new species and different classifications of fey everyday. This is the perfect breeding ground for crimes and the best place to smuggle people past the Ville du Voile.

There are mainly different cities but the most important one is the court de flora. This is where the royal families of each faction live and where you can find the primordial titan of nature. 

Styx

Named after the famous river Styx, this region is full of water with islands. Each island is their city themed after whichever death god controls it. Some cities are technologically advanced where others are stuck in the last. Some are bigger than others. The islands are connected via ley lines that transport each person to and from different islands. Boat travel is possible but oftentimes risky. 

 Styx is home to the Karakter, a race that is powered by spirit magic. Unlike most races, the Karaktar were once mortals who chose to become a Karaktar. The Karktar are responsible for ushering in the dead, and helping out the death gods since death in itself is a very taxing job. 

When a soul enters Styx, they are granted with a choice. 

Float through the water, until it’s their time to be reborn again. This normally takes about 3000 years. 

-or-

Pledge yourself to a death god and become immortal, renouncing any claim to resurrection. 

The water is full of the souls of the dead and contested spiritual energy that will kill anyone that’s in there. The longest someone has lasted in the water is 5 minutes and they were a titan. Since the water is so deadly, Styx is where you’ll find the prison where enemies of the realm are kept. This is reserved for those who try to attack any of the 20 primordial titans. 

Solst and Equin

This is the region where you’ll find a lot of Equinoxtic magic users. (magic users who get their magic from the sum and night) These are more commonly referred to as hell and heaven in the mortal realms. 

Solst is the equivalent to heaven where people who use light magic, or magic powered by the sun live. These are mainly referred to as angels. 

Equin is the equivalent to Hell, although it is not underground, its land floats through space The only difference between Equin and Styx is that you’ll instantly die if you go over. There are safety measures in place. This is where you find dark magic users or magic powered by the night sky. These are commonly referred to as demons.

These two regions hold most of the patroned gods, but are also the most at war with each other. Especially the Ars goetia, the Ars fortona and the Ars Paulina (factions of very powerful angels and demons) 

The 2 notable cities within this region are Cloud city and Night city. could city is more based off of Barcelona and night city takes inspiration from Las Vegas/Monte Carlo 

Elysium

This is where you’ll find Royal gods(difference between and patroned gods are that Royal gods don’t get their powers from worship) this is the home to Kassiopeia, the Empress of the gods, and the soul Creation god. To put it plainly, she is god. 

Elysium is a region full of galaxies, stars, and anything inter-dimensional. Only the richest of the rich and the most powerful beings live. This is where a lot of meetings where Kassiopeia’s presence is required take place. Kassiopeia never leaves Elysium without a royal escort, even though she will often leave Elysium. 

[yourninjasareajoke]

making i ♡ kellen & the bachelors shirts, brb

yes i punched a table and sprained my pinky. no i am not proud.

[kariachi]

Okay, let’s do up some stuff for winter holiday stuff for various species, huh?

Erinaens

Their main class of winter holiday is already covered here- essentially a community swap-meet-turned-festival

There’s a variety of other regional festivities including common ones honoring necromancers, the dead, and some classes of spirit (always good to thank the fucker who’s making sure it only gets so cold, or that the seasons keep turning and you don’t get stuck in eternal winter (there are folktales about eternal winters)) but there are enough and varied enough that we can only go very general things

Namely there’s food, there’s generally gifts or offerings to the relevant individuals (so many necromancers make a chunk of their living off yearly ‘thank you for being here and doing your job’ gifts), there’s songs sometimes

Normally not decorations or anything, most of the time they’re not considered especially auspicious or celebratory

Lenopan

Cultures in areas that experience notable winters are comparatively slim among Lenopan, but the Winter Solstice, for a species that freezes easy, is a big-ass deal

You don’t leave the house- if you’ve got livestock that aren’t housed in an attached barn (the farther north settlements do that) then a chunk of you go and sleep with them, if there’s people in the children’s house guess what they are celebrating just them and the babies

I mean, we’ve already discussed that Lenopan try not to go out in winter (school’s~ out~ for~ winter~) but you seriously don’t go out on the solstice in any culture, they aren’t about that life

There’s three ��most widely celebrated’ versions of the whole solstice deal

Version One- has sort’ve a Groundhog Day thing going on, homes have a small window in one of the major rooms that’s at the right position and angle to let in the noonday sun on the solstice. It’s kept closed up and covered the rest of the year, but on the Winter Solstice it gets opened up. Used to be that, like with most Lenopan windows, it was just open, but in nowadays it’s generally filled in with colored glass or plastic so now people can go hang out in the room on the day. If the noon sun shines through the window, then it’s said that spring will arrive early, but if it doesn’t then the winter will run long. If the sun is shining then people freaking gorge themselves and throw loud parties with singing and children bouncing off the walls, while if it isn’t then individuals fast for the next three days, ostensibly in mourning but probably at first was sort’ve a ‘save food for the long winter’ situation. Because it’s an either/or whether people are celebrating or mourning, there’s not really decorations, though there are traditional songs, including ones asking/begging/threatening the sun to show up and chase winter away. People also change their colors for the holiday- going to bright colors and bold patterns if the sun shines and pale, solid colors if it doesn’t

Version Two- also known as ‘honey why are the neighbors screaming?‘. Must make loud noises. Must decorate with scary things. Must sing songs of the death of winter at the top of your lungs. Entire point is to scare winter away. These lot don’t celebrate on the day of the Winter Solstice but the day after- the idea being that winter has been growing in power since the Summer Solstice (hence why nights have gotten longer and it’s gotten colder) and is at it’s peak on the solstice, hence the next day is when you start the assault to drive it back to wherever it goes when summer gets the upper hand. Imagine if people set off fireworks on Halloween to scare the bad spirits away, it’s a similar thing. You eat hearty foods and play games of physical fortitude and strategy. Challenge your cousins to Civ V and wrestle over who gets to be play as the Zulu. Really if they weren’t likely to get calls about disturbing the peace they’d fit right in with humans here.

Version Three- the only fuckers who used to go outside on the solstice. They used to combine the solstice with a garbage burn-off, when the weather started turning cold they would build covered stone structures to start throwing their trash in, and when the Solstice arrived they would send someone outside to light it all on fire. These were beacons, though beacons for what varies- some places it was to guide anyone who got lost in the long night home, or to attract luck or friendly spirits, or a scream into the darkness that they had not and would not fall. There would be cages arranged outside the structure and connected to openings in the bottom, they would be attached on the solstice and catch jevirir- a sort’ve salamandery centipedey psuedo-mammal that would take shelter from the cold in the trash pile. Their winter coloration, in the old days, was considered specifically an emblem and even emissary of winter and so they would be caught and drowned to make sure winter would eventually end. Of course this isn’t done anymore, they don’t even do the trash piles anymore. Instead now every fall families build temporary stone structures with colored glass and plastic roofs and stick spotlights inside them. The lights can be turned out from inside the house, so nobody has to go outside. As for the jevirir, nobody sacrifices them for the sake of spring anymore, at least not actual ones. They buy or make fake ones of clay, stone, reeds, wood, to sink in the water the day after the solstice. They make a whole event out of it, and one of the major holiday activities is hiding these fake critters around the house, after which the kids take the shapes of their natural predators and hunt them down, winning a holiday treat if they manage to find them all.

Osmosians

The Empire puts added emphasis on, again, the Winter Solstice, but for the most part all Osmosians celebrate it in one way or another

There’s some other winter holidays in Savar- mostly days celebrating specific deities, heroes, etc- but the solstice is the Big One

It’s the big winter deal for, again, pretty much all Ossys

In Savar there’s a lot of prayers and such for the Winter Solstice, it’s a whole thing, sacrifices made to deities, primarily to Shil, Lyis, Vernito, and whatever of the wind deities is in the top spot for the area

In every celebrating community there’s traditional songs and stories, as most holidays have, some of them even from back before The Hunting in some communities

There is so much food. So much. Savar doesn’t have many feasting holidays- Darum’s festival, Vernito’s, and the Winter Solstice really- plus citizens of the Empire feast to celebrate the anniversary of it’s formation, while non-citizens feast the day before to celebrate Ossys officially being classed as a sapient species with rights galaxy-wide

What people eat varies with where they are, who they are, etc, but within the Empire stuffed foods, preserved plantstuffs, and fresh meat and fish

The most common decorations are windchimes, windspinners, and bells. You also get strings of beads and baubles in various colors and made of various materials, plus some packs are able to put up fabric banners and ribbons (fancy, I know)

It’s very much a pack holiday, in fact if you see Ossys celebrating something that isn’t pack-wide or ‘the whole main body of the clan’-wide? It’s probably an event they borrowed from another species for one reason or another

Colors associated with the growing seasons are commonly used, though what those are varies widely depending on where fuckers are

Perison

There are so many different fuckers with so many different traditions on that planet, so instead we’re gonna focus on what Kwarrel grew up with because I’m as good as god here and also it’s been a long couple of days

The biggest of the winter holidays he grew up with was, essentially celebrating snow

Not technically but, it’s a whole thing

Basically, winter time means less sunlight, the Big Central Deity of the religion Kwarrel grew up with (it still needs a name) is quite literally The Sun, clearly she's not on top of her game in winter and you need to get her going again so it can stop being so damn cold and the crops’ll grow

The general idea is that once a year the Sun sorta gets seasonal depression and you need to make her happy so she can go back to making things warm and bright

So, how the ends up with snow

Snow is, sort’ve symbolic of the stars for these fuckers- the Sun’s daughters made the world and everything on it, the Sun and her Daughters make the stars, it sorta makes sense that these things that are never exactly the same are emblematic of the stars which similarly are homemade and therefor never exactly the same

So, how do you cheer up the Sun? You remind her of how much you appreciate her. You sacrifice food so she can share in the fruits that grow in her warmth. You sings songs for her, and perform grand, intricate dances. You praise her name and fill the world with light for her.

And you make it clear how much you appreciate her work

These fuckers make so many snow ornaments and decals and just, lots of snowflakes. Lots and lots of snowflakes. Because you can’t make stars, only the deities can make stars, it’d be insulting to make some shoddy representation of their work, so instead you make snowflakes. The delicate, intricate crafts bound to the world.

(Why yes, before you ask, this lot do represent the stars with snowflakes in art as well. Not the Sun herself, though. She mostly gets represented as the greatest, fattest woman within a great glow of light, when she isn’t represented as just that great glow of light. A few pieces have represented her as both man and woman at once, but that’s controversial as fuck and probably gonna lead to a major schism one of these days, just make a whole new offshoot religion.)

Snowflakes are made of just about anything. Fabric, paper, glass, wood, grass, crystal, seriously anything goes as long as it’s a snowflake. Used to be expected that you’d make your own, pass them down the family, and that they’d be white, very pale grey, or very pale blue, but nowadays you can find them for sale and in whatever colors you can imagine. As you’d suspect, there’s people up in arms about it.

Specific foods eaten vary from area to area, but delicate little pastries dusted in powdered sugar are a mainstay for obvious reasons. Also eggs are common, egg yolks specifically, though how they’re prepared again differs by region and sect and such. It’s important the yolks are unbroken though, you can’t eat broken yolks on that day.

Sacrifices to the Sun, meanwhile, are typically dried fruits and vegetables that are ripe in summer and specifically stored so they can be burned come winter. Official explanation is that the smoke carries the essence of the produce up to the Sun. Some households do it individually, some chunks of families do their sacrifice together, some whole herds. In regions where this is the dominant religion you may even get the better part of cities or towns getting together to make a vast pile and set it ablaze.

[tradmais]

Líder em energia solar Solst&iacu... https://tradeemais.com/midsummer-e-saab-assinam-memorando-de-entendimento-para-colaboracao-na-tailandia?feed_id=15112&_unique_id=67384ed8594f1

[arken0]

Oscuridad Cap.4

[bugqiu]

the strange lives of hattie aïcha: independence day pt. 1

The air was amber on the fourth of July this year. Amber days were always touch and go for traveling; all sweltered masses and heat waves hypnotizing you. There wasn't much to focus on those days in the way of 'interesting figures' on the train. Bodies slumped like shame into fake velvet and pepto bismol blue plastic. It was acidic, those days. No brown feeling could warm or dull it further, it just sat like fertilizer on the plains. You had to be careful stepping around those days.

Hattie Aïcha was more cautious on those days, but seemed to be on more of a roll on this particular fourth of July. She had a work shift, a long one coming, like a big long lollipop lick to the center, or a tongue stuck to a frozen metal pole; a lick that requires work, a lick with consequences. And like a lollipop, the job was sweet. Sure the shifts were long and the men were mean and she kind of had a crush on her manager and line cook and delivery person. Things were complicated, naturally. But they were sweet, oh so sweet. She got free food, free drinks and the occasional brownie when her supervisor was feeling extra special that day. AND she could dress however she wanted. Taffeta, tulle, jean, khaki, lace - all of it! It had to be practical and not too theatrical, which was hard honestly, but during the summer it was ideal. Beyond even.

Today, though, Hattie Aïcha was feeling more alive than usual. It was a cool morning, dew drops on the grass near the lake, and that burning hole creeping lovingly over the ⁣clouds. She went on a walk that morning, admiring the animals swirl around her morning coffee and stone as she strolled through the greens and mulch decorating the park behind her close friend's home. She'd taken to smoking in the morning sometimes when she needed a little magic to complete her contours. Sometimes she woke up feeling like a toddler's used puzzle piece, all edges strangely rounded and indiscernibly sharpened, with grooves weeping with saliva from incessant gnawing. When she looked into the mirror, she saw welts protruding from her limbs, raising her into space by the throat, angry and dry and quick-witted; punishing. So, she stoned to round herself out. It was strategic, really, and she'd taken to thinking that without it, she wouldn't feel real. Her mind right now wasn't strong enough to hold her steady. She'd not been careful in the wake and was now suffering the consequences. It was strategic, really.

As she sat on her patio, a friend shattered the bottom step of their shared back stairs, splintered wood crumpled under the weight of plastic moving boxes and sneakers, and it almost felt like a ghost died at once. Almost. Hattie Aïcha knew what it felt like to experience ghost death. They shared those kinds of things with her, and it was strange, being able to sense those kinds of useless seismic shifts. Lynea had warned her after she moved back that things would be different, and Hattie Aïcha had just assumed she meant because of Covid and general economic upheaval. In classic donkey fashion, though, she'd failed to inquire further and only could keep surmising that this was what she was alluding to. It had driven her crazy last year. Solstes had shared a similar sentiment but was far too afraid of the potential architectural shifts that kind of seeing precipitated. She'd closed herself off to it ages ago, refusing to see in exchange for living. You couldn't fault her, because in her own way, all of her family had done and was doing the same. For some reason or other, they'd stopped trying to see the layers of architecture offered to them; they'd traded stereograms for trompe l'oeils.

The friend lightly hissed as their ankle jerked quickly to the ground, destabilizing the whole patio for a second, all three stories of it trembling in mock threat. Hattie Aïcha wondered if patio stairs counted as stories, and how narrative is literally built into the language of architecture, and how could we (her) not have realized that sooner and acted on it. She called out, 'All good?' Her friend half-grunted, half-hummed in response. 'I should go help,' Hattie Aïcha murmured, pained at the thought of leaving a comfortable morning perch after a kind walk, but stirred by the alchemy downstairs. As she descended, she took note of the time - she'd be late if this took longer than five minutes, so she made quick work of her bound.

'What can I help with,' she offered. Her friend looked up at her, then promptly handed her this box. 'I've got about 10 of these.'

Hattie Aïcha thought quickly and spilled, "Okay, I can help with 3 max.' Her friend nodded and turned their shoulders so Hattie Aïcha could get past. 'Be my guest, and thank you, friend.' Hattie Aïcha nodded brusquely and jumped lightly down to the khaki cement, two steps at a time. She'd done that often as a child, resulting in a dent in not one, but two walls in two of her childhood homes. 'I miss it,' she thought, letting the space around her form in the ink of this memory. Slowly, her clumsiness was all she could see, white spackled walls cracking like fine ancient marble under the weight of her cranium. She always recovered from physical pain quickly, 'I'm okay! I'm okay.' But she was emotionally fragile; affected. The slightest lack of response from her mother made her unsure, and derogatory pet names from her father confused her, and she got the feeling of dread served to her on a silver platter by her siblings every so often. She carried pain in a backpack, like an explorer always almost ready for the expedition, but certain to always be leaving something critical behind. 'We have too much in common now,' she thought, skipping above the gray, sunburnt wood. She often wondered if this was what seeing was about. Remembering too much always, and sorting only through the pain.

Hattie Aïcha made quick work of her assistance, carrying one heavy box and two light ones in one trip. She couldn't be late today and wasn't sure why. 'Here you are, friend.' They nodded, and smiled in gratitude, stress set into their mouth, and Hattie Aïcha offered a hand on their shoulder, punching the air with a fighting fist before tossing her knees up the stairs, three at a time now. She was just blessed to have worked through that storm of memory. 'Don't let it suck you in,' she repeated, hearing the voice of her stepfather deepen the base of her own thoughts. 'Don't let it suck you in,' she repeated, this time under her breath, reveling in her own depths. It stirred the waters around her, and she saw soft ripples in her periphery. How wondrous, she thought, to have your reality reflected in your vision. How dangerous too, she thought.

_________________

'This, is Damen. Doors will open on the left. Thank you for choosing the CTA.' Hattie Aïcha stood up on both legs, desperate to steady herself as the train came to a heavy stop. She tiptoed down the stairs and waited at the stoplight, something in her stomach tugging at her knees, desperate to speed to work. She felt gravity and locomotion too deeply sometimes, the stone behind a helpful numbing creme on her brain but making her actively aware of each bone. As she approached her work, she heard voices out of focus blend into new words in foreign languages, and chose the back exit to enter into today. Nicoli was there when she arrived, toe-stomping a cigarette but into the oily remainders of the restaurant next door. He was the only one that spoke Chinese with her, and they used that to their advantage. Everyone else chose French, German, or, god forbid, Dutch to offer their international customers. Their coworkers called them 'Sinos' because 'sinophile' is too big a word to spit out while landing a joke. It kind of sounded like Rhinos and Hattie Aïcha sometimes wondered if it was more derogatory because of that, or more apt.

They were both Black and had spent time in China in their youth, knowing intimately what it meant to be alone in a dying regime. They also knew what it meant to live in different but communal realities; everyone kept to themselves and came together willfully when it was time. No wishy-washy. Because of that, they didn't do platitudes with each other - there was no use for niceties when you've found the only person who doesn't seem to require them. You indulge in it, milking the sludge of abrasion and truth from each other's memories. It was restorative.

'You look alive.' Nicoli spat out, eyes leveling into Hattie Aïcha.

'You look dead,' she replied, coquettishly smirking at his muddled face. Looking at him was awkward sometimes because even though he was forward and truthful, his face wasn't. Hattie Aïcha had to focus on his face more than anyone she'd every met in her life. It was exhilarating and stupid.

'I was offering a compliment, dickhead.'

'And I was simply impaling you with my unicorn phallis of truth. I love you, I'm late, see you in there.'

She skipped inside after entering the code, wondering what a service worker-run HR department would look like. 'Would a work partner be obsolete? Humans love grey love,' she thought, putting on an apron and her scarf, locks coiling in puffs over the light fabric. The mirror caught her pensive-to-pleasant expression morph, and it was like a glitch had taken over her, face cemented in codes. She walked through the saloon-style doors, wood creaking as if celebrating her arrival. She whipped out her phone, clocked in, and it was just as soon as she'd tucked her phone in her pocket that they walked in. Tyler. And Bastion, their best friend, but that was less important.

What was he doing here?! They locked eyes, and a smile crept slowly onto Tyler's face, teasing Hattie Aïcha. She melted.

_____________________

Before she moved, Tyler and Hattie Aïcha had an understanding. She'd pine for them, they'd never acquiesce, but they'd make the most of the time that they had in class together. Hattie Aïcha believed that they were destined for each other. Their tanned skin, wefts of chlorine, sea salt and persimmon emanating from their clothes, and smiley face tattoo at the ankle that a friend had drawn at summer swim camp when they were 15; it made her dumb and intoxicated. Tyler once told you that their mom flipped when that happened, and their sibling tickle-bombed their mom to get Tyler out of trouble. 'Mak just went for her ribcage, like absolutely dove for it. She collapsed almost immediately, anger bubbles rising as laughter instead. I was so proud of my family in that moment, honestly. Imagine what she'd have said instead.'

Tyler lived in fear that their family could die at any moment; Mak's family had orphaned on in the war. Mak's home country used a different time and identity structure than we did, so gender assignments became nebulous and had different architecture linguistically. When Mak joined Tyler's family, on explained that every pronoun exists as 'on,' and everything was context specific. On couldn't describe it further, as that history was sacred to on's history, but Tyler's family didn't probe. They understood.

During the war, Mak's family was killed to protect the history. Without on deaths, torture would envelope on whole population, pestering on forever and burning pustules aimlessly. On died to catalyze the destruction, knowing resistance had spent its turn well. Hattie Aïcha, upon hearing all of this, wondered how much truth Tyler knew about Mak's home. To her, it sounded strategic, and she wondered how much Tyler's parents knew. She always wondered how Mak ended up with them. They'd shake their head slightly and say, 'Landy, its not our story to know.' She wondered how they could settle for that when it could all be out there.

Tyler had taken to calling Hattie Aïcha out of her name early on after meeting in Chinese class and mishearing her name as 'Handy Aïcha.' They'd snickered slightly, because it was still high school, but wondered what her utility could be. They were a romantic, sure, but a pragmatist when the time came. They'd said, 'Handy, like Handyland,' in a written note 30 seconds after roll call. She sent it back with, 'Hattie, like Hatshepsut.' They couldn't pronounce it, so they searched it up. 'No wonder your name's so sweet, you were a monarch in another life,' they wrote back. 'And in this one,'

They never had another exchange like that, but gravitated towards each other in every convenient space. In geometry, Hattie would always have pencils when they came unprepared. In homeroom, Hattie would fix their glasses when they were slightly loose. In robotics, she'd tinker with their code and make strange memes to make them laugh. they seldom did, but that only fueled Hattie Aïcha more. Hattie Aïcha wondered if this was all in her head, and then she realized exactly what she was to them; handy.

She'd pull back, forget he mattered, forget their loose exchanges. She'd find another focus for her energy; a book, an essay, a love, a show. Somehow, though, Tyler would scoop her back in like shit in a doggy bag, and just as routine. They'd snicker, she'd whimper. Routine is a bitch.

When she left, it took them a minute to realize how much she'd impacted them, but by that point, she'd grown up and moved on from childish games. The rubber band was too tight for her; she broke free. Their glasses loosened, their sibling grew up, and they went off to college, briefly chatting online before it dissolved into zeroes. They zeroed out.

_____________

'Handyland, no way,' Tyler tried out on their tongue, noticing it quickly dry out. Bastion raised an eyebrow, trying to see what Tyler knew that he didn't.

Hattie Aïcha sucked in a breath and opted for a chuckle instead of a shriek. 'I'm honestly surprised you remembered after all the times you came begging for a pencil after 'forgetting' one.'

'That's what you remember me for?' Tyler challenged.

'Not much else to reach for, I suppose,' Hattie Aïcha pinched back. Tyler burned in that spot or a moment, thinking of how to recover. 'I guess its lucky you're slinging here now, then. Got more tangible stuff to reach for; better for your health.'

'Asshole,' she thought, 'True as fuck though.' She said,' Thanks for looking after my health. Can't say I'm doing the same though. Together or separate?'

'Tog-'

'Whichever takes the longest. I haven't seen you in years.' Tyler interjected their friend's comment, and Hattie Aïcha felt something dangerous wrap around her throat. It felt thick suddenly. He was charging her, instigating. She thought quickly, settling for,

'Just sit at the table then, I have to change the music soon anyways. You'll pay together, though?' she directed at Bastion.

'Uh, yeah.'

'Cool, 10 even.'

'No discount?'

'Kin only.'

"I'm not k-'

'No, my friend, you are not.'

_____________