#the felt camp side stories are great fr :<<< !!!

[suffarustuffaru]

i love how reinhard dresses like an actual teenage boy in his free time <33

[27emailsicantsend]

Season 3 Episode 5 Thoughts

I have to start out by saying that this episode had such a high impact on me that I literally was not able to write these notes until the next day… So yeah that should explain a lot about how great this episode was

Let’s start off with sassy Gina. I think it is so fantastic how much she is using little comments and remarks to get back to EJ. It reminds me a lot of the last episode and how he was making little side remarks against Ricky. It’s almost like her subconscious way of showing him what he was doing to Ricky when he was mad. She was going to lash back the same

CARLOS’ NAILS I LOVE SM

Ricky breaking the 4th wall again by making eye contact with the camera 😭 pls

Also why does it make so much sense that Carlos was literally the only person to pull off the drama stunt with the rest of the cast? Like he really understands what makes good tv and I love that for him

Also the writing in this episode was 😙👌🏻 it was funny, romantic, dramatic, confusing and fast and everything else. It kept you on your toes and felt engaging every step of the way. The writers REALLY stepped up their game this season and it’s making the season feel whole and complete. I think some other story lines could be slightly more fleshed out but with the time constraints they had it was still done well

Kourtney saying “RCOSL” and Carlos getting annoyed gives me the same vibe as London and Mosby with the “PRNDL”

The fact that Gina said she CANT improvise and then she was asked to improvise in WDYKAL tells me it might not have been improv at all. She wasn’t improvising, she was acting out in vengeance. Which remembered what happened last time she couldn’t improvise and acted out instead? Mr Elton John got a drink dumped on his head at the dance in S1

And I LOVE that there is a water dumping parallel when Gina gets “upset” at Kourtney over her lines and gets to throw it again

Tbh I feel like anyone in this fandom would be fine if Sofia threw water at them

EJ is here for the wrong reasons??? Remember why Carlos casts these? Because he felt like they matched people’s personalities. I think this is a big ole red flag for p*rtwell. He’s in Gina’s life- at camp- for the wrong reasons. Maybe it’s to hold onto his past, not go to school, whatever… but that tells us he shouldn’t be there loud and clear

Ricky “I can hit him fr” 😭😭 pls my guy no need to be so eager

Also it’s been pointed out a million and one times but RICKY SAID HE LOVES GINA IN A NOT SO SUBTLE WAY. Like NO HESITATION. The minute Carlos said Ricky was mad Ej took the girl he loves Ricky was like “oh right gina!!” And then had to come back from it because he realized how quick he responded 😭😭

“He stole her- or WOULD HAVE stolen her in a fake scenario” 🤪😳🫢

And the held a torch to her for YEARS?? Um hello this implies Ricky has had feelings since the beginning?? Which in many cases Ej and Nini saw in s1. Like the scene where they hugged or Ej asked if gina cared about Ricky. EJ knows the feelings have always been there

Ricky b*tch slapping EJ is EVERYTHING to me. I shouldn’t promote violence BUT

And then him saying that was his motivation and asking to slap him again I’m DEAD

FREAKING CARLOS PUSHING THE MADDOX AND JET IN LOVE AGENDA SIR YOU DONT UNDERSTAND WHY ITS SO WRONG

Also him doing labor breathing to calm down 😭 call the police

A parallel I just realized: when Kourtney and Carlos asked Gina and Ricky a question all they needed was one question to come completely clean about how they felt and what was stressing them. It’s interesting they responded the same way to their friends

“A big bouncy butt” who wrote these lyrics?? I just wanna talk

Like this whole episode was peak comedy but Channing and Carlos had me ROLLING the entire time. So so good 😂😂

Maddox’s squeal when she fake cries 😭 and then Carlos “IVE BEEN SLAPPED 😦” GOLD

When Gina and Ricky are talking backstage by Carlos you hear Gina do this little flirty “yeahhh 😏” and it’s very much giving the same vibes as them in the woods

Did anyone else notice that Ricky has the EXACT same look on his face when Carlos says, “remember you still have unresolved feelings for Gina” as when she brings up the chocolates?? (Yes I’m a chocolate truther sue me)

How does 10 to 1 mean peeing in Hollywood? 😗 am I missing something?

The evil look gina has when Carlos tells her to have fun torturing EJ 😭

AND THE SVEN COSTUME I CANT EVEN LOOK AT IT ITS SO FUNNY

Like literally I could use EJ in that costume as a reaction meme for SO MANY THINGS

Timberlina knew what he was doing with that costume and it was evil 😭

Ricky’s soft “hey buddy” ☺️ and EJ’s face 🥺 THIS EPISODE IS GOLD I TELL YOU

I AM AT WDYKAL NO ONE LOOK AT ME NO ONE PERCEIVE ME NO ONE MOVE

The way Ricky says in the song you don’t know his name?????? And then we find out Gina doesn’t actually know EJ’s name???? The Hans agenda are you kidding me?????

When Gina took his hat??

Or what about when she touched his neck??

WHEN THEY HOLD SILENT EYE CONTACT MULTIPLE TIMES ARE YOU KIDDING ME THE LOVE IS LITERALLY TANGIBLE IT HURTS. THE VERY END LITERALLY LEAVES ME BREATHLESS

Or how about the fact that Ricky dips her AFTER the little streamer shutters close and EJ can’t see what’s happening?

Or the slow touching moments

LETS NOT FORGET RIGHT AT THE END THAT IT LOOKS LIKE MR BOWEN IS ABOUT TO HOLD HER HAND AGAIN AND WHO HOLDS SOMEONE ELSES HAND AT THE END OF BREAKING FREE??? TROY TO GABRIELLA

And every person who has made the lights comparison is so so right and for what

Gina throwing Ricky around as a rag doll with no remorse and him enjoying it is EVERYTHING to me

ALSO DONT FORGET THIS WAS ALL SUPPOSED TO BE IMPROVISED. THEY DID THIS ON THEIR OWN, NO DIRECTION, JUST THEIR OWN NATURAL INCLINATIONS. JUST LET THAT SINK IN

The vocals, the choreo, the other actors reactions, the CHEMISTRY… everything about this song is literally so good. And it all built up to this??? Like it’s not out of nowhere but years of waiting and build up and at the end the tension is so high it literally causes Gina to run out of fear because she doesn’t know what else to do but panic???? Like hello???!!!

If you’re not on the Bird app or if you haven’t gotten a chance to listen to their vocals isolated please do it. It is so worth your time

This song really truly deserves every praise it’s received and will continue to receive. Timberly and the others really outdid themselves this episode and for what

(For rina, that’s what… this is what happens when the shows producer has a blatant favorite couple… sorry not sorry p*rtwell and r*ni duets don’t hold a candle to this one)

Did I just rewind it so I can watch it again before finishing the episode? Maybe. Don’t stop me.

Me talking about Rina: don’t get me started

“Heart wrenching honestly” 🥺🥺🥺 that really was so hard for him and you could see it the whole time in his performance he just wants to love Gina so badly ughhhhh

Ricky even apologized for being too intense? Like he knew he went full throttle in that performance because it probably was the only time he was allowed to without EJ saying something. I’m sure he took that opportunity and ran with it… no matter how painful

RICKY JUST SAY WHAT YOU FEEL WE’RE ALL BEGGING 😭😭

Also those were heart eyes if I’ve EVER seen them holy crap

I actually have a lot more I want to say on this scene but I want to make a separate post about it

THE PARALLEL SCENE OF THEM WALKING IN A ROOM IT ALL HURTS SO MUCH

this scene was so much because everything comes out in different ways and to have that many reveals in one sitting can be not overwhelming for the characters but the audience watching as well

Not Maddox just calling Ashlyn out like that 😭 but also she never denied it… so??? 😳🏳️‍🌈

I don’t know if this was supposed to be taken as a funny thing or not… But I find it really interesting that Ricky needed to lay down when Jet and Maddox were yelling so much of each other? It seemed like he was almost having some flashbacks to things that made him upset and his anxiety started to heighten reliving that trauma over again? Because not only did his parents fight like this but he also fought with Nini like this… it just seems like a trauma response for him to literally shut down so I’m not surprised he felt the need to lay down during all of that

But also on a lighter note it’s so funny how the kids are all yelling and everything is serious and then Carlos gets completely caught up on EJ not being Eric Junior and Ricky missing everything to yell about Maddox and jet being siblings completely out of context help 😭😭

And ok I’m not going to go TOO in on this because it’s been discussed a lot but there has been a lot of discussion around Ricky having regression (which is not true at all… look at other posts about this to get more context), but isn’t it interesting that Gina says OUTLOUD, “this is what the old Ej would do”. She is literally pointing out that him not being honest and hiding himself is a form of him regressing as a character. I’m really interested to see how the writers bring him out of this

I saw someone post about Ricky saying when you can’t find the words you just sing instead might be him hinting at singing Kristoffs lullaby and I LOVE THIS SM. But also I can’t tell what I would love more? If he is singing this off in a distance and pining at Gina or singing it to her 😭 both would be beautiful tbh

RICKY HAS A CRUSH ON GINA I STILL CANT BELIEVE THIS IS CANON ON SCREEN OUT LOUD ITS-

But also when he puts his head in his hands after getting caught speaking outloud. Like boy knows he done messed up. I am REALLY curious what they’re doing with that footage. Either Gina will see it on purpose, on accident, or it’ll get deleted but she’ll still find out anyway through word of mouth and I don’t care how but I love that somehow Ricky is gonna get CAUGHT

You can see he is trying SO HARD to avoid his feelings being known and he literally can’t. I think this is where the line from Val earlier about not being able to hide your love and it comes out in other ways comes in. He literally cannot keep others from seeing it and finding out which is frustrating him beyond belief. Enough people are seeing, noticing, saying things though that at this point… I’m sorry buddy there is nothing that can be hidden

Why does jet singing in that jacket at the piano remind me of the Gorilla from SING 😂😂😂

Bu that aside lmao I love this song. It’s implications with the kids around him and him looking with admiration at younger Maddox says a lot about their relationship. He just wants what is best for her through his actions and it showed so poorly. He feels so much regret even though he wanted to do everything right. Just a lot of misunderstanding and heart ache which I think sums up a lot of the relationships in this season as well

Ok who tf is EJ calling? I think it’s easy to assume it’s his dad but I don’t know that that is actually who he is calling and why? Is it to leave? Create more drama? Heal something that he feels or needs to be healed? I’m just very curious about who might be coming

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

14th February >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Mark 1:40-45 for the Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle B: ‘Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him’.

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

Gospel (Except USA)

Mark 1:40-45

The leprosy left the man at once, and he was cured

A leper came to Jesus and pleaded on his knees: ‘If you want to’ he said ‘you can cure me.’ Feeling sorry for him, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him. ‘Of course I want to!’ he said. ‘Be cured!’ And the leprosy left him at once and he was cured. Jesus immediately sent him away and sternly ordered him, ‘Mind you say nothing to anyone, but go and show yourself to the priest, and make the offering for your healing prescribed by Moses as evidence of your recovery.’ The man went away, but then started talking about it freely and telling the story everywhere, so that Jesus could no longer go openly into any town, but had to stay outside in places where nobody lived. Even so, people from all around would come to him.

Gospel (USA)

Mark 1:40–45

The leprosy left him, and he was made clean.

A leper came to Jesus and kneeling down begged him and said, “If you wish, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand, touched him, and said to him, “I do will it. Be made clean.” The leprosy left him immediately, and he was made clean. Then, warning him sternly, he dismissed him at once.    He said to him, “See that you tell no one anything, but go, show yourself to the priest and offer for your cleansing what Moses prescribed; that will be proof for them.”    The man went away and began to publicize the whole matter. He spread the report abroad so that it was impossible for Jesus to enter a town openly. He remained outside in deserted places, and people kept coming to him from everywhere.

Reflections (5)

(i) Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

One of the more distressing impacts of the Coronavirus for many people has been the experience of social isolation. People in nursing homes and hospitals in recent months have felt especially isolated. I have a friend, a woman in her nineties, who was in hospital for several months before and after Christmas and, for perfectly understandable reasons, no one could visit her. I am sure that many others in the parish have had a similar experience with their loved ones or friends in hospital or nursing homes. Hopefully, we can begin to look forward to a time when we can interact with one another in a more natural and human way.

In the time of Jesus, leprosy was the most isolating of all diseases. In the words of today’s first reading, the leper had to live ‘outside the camp’, away from the normal places where people interact. If for some reason, the leper drew near to people, the Jewish law stipulated that they had to announce their coming, shouting, ‘Unclean, unclean’, so people could move away from them as quickly as possible. Not only were lepers socially isolated, but they were religiously isolated. They couldn’t come to the local synagogue to join in the Sabbath service. What we find the leper doing in today’s gospel reading then is all the more remarkable. He breaks out of his isolation to approach Jesus, going against the stipulations of the religious law of the time. Why did he so something so unconventional? Presumably, he had heard of the reputation of Jesus as one who proclaimed God’s rule of love by healing the sick and welcoming the excluded. The words of the leper to Jesus show that he was in no doubt as to Jesus’ power to heal him, ‘you can cure me’. Yet, he wasn’t sure that Jesus wanted to heal him, ‘If you want to, you can cure me’. When people have been living in isolation for a long time, they can begin to doubt whether people really want to connect with them. They may begin to wonder if anyone out there really cares enough to lessen their isolation.

If the leper had approached others as he approached Jesus, they would have promptly moved away. However, the leper suspected that Jesus might be different. Here is someone, he hoped, whose ways are not our ways. How did Jesus react to the leper? The emotion ascribed to Jesus in the gospel reading suggests a deeply rooted, gut wrenching, reaction to the leper, a mixture of anger and compassion, anger at what this disease had done to the quality of this man’s life, and a compassionate desire to change his situation for the better. This deep seated, emotional, response to the man finds expression in the words Jesus spoke to him, ‘Of course I want to. Be cured!’ It would have been enough for Jesus to say, ‘Be cured!’ for the man to be healed. In the gospels, Jesus frequently heals people with his authoritative word. However, on this occasion, Jesus does the unthinkable. Having spoken to the leper, he then touched him. Once Jesus touched him, the leper must have realized that he was being released from his isolation. We might wonder how long it had been since the leper had felt the touch of another human being. A certain understanding of God’s law had excluded him from the community of the living and left him on the threshold of a kind of death. However, by that touch, Jesus was revealing that this is not what God wanted for him. The touch of Jesus was the touch of God. Jesus reveals a God who does not exclude anyone. Jesus shows that in the heart of God there is room for everyone, especially for those who have been made to feel that they do not belong. Sometimes our religious laws and institutions exclude people, but Jesus reveals a God who wants to touch the lives of all in a healing and life-giving way. Jesus’ whole ministry displays God to be one who works to demolish the boundaries that seek to keep some people safe at the expense of leaving others out in the cold.

Leprosy is not the frightening disease today that it was in the time of Jesus, as it can be treated and cured. Yet, in every age, society has a tendency to decide who is acceptable and who is out of favour. We continue to relegate some people to the side-lines for a whole variety of reasons, perhaps because we seem them as a threat to us or as a burden on us or just because they are different from us. I am often struck by that saying of Jesus in John’s gospel, ‘When I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all people to myself’. Having been lifted up on the cross and lifted up in glory, the risen Lord continues his work of drawing all people to himself today. The gospel reading today raises the question of what Jesus wants. I think we can say with certainty that today the risen Lord wants to work through each one of us to rescue people from their sense of isolation. He wants the miracle of today’s gospel reading to become a contemporary reality, through our willingness to befriend those who are isolated or who find themselves on the margins of acceptablity for whatever reason.

And/Or

(ii) Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 People who feel isolated appreciate it when someone enters their isolation and tries to connect with them. There are various reasons why people can find themselves isolated. Old age and failing health can make it difficult for people to make the kind of contact with others they deeply desire. That is especially the case if people are house bound. The radio link we have in the parish is one attempt to make contact with people who find it difficult to make contact with us. There is a certain kind of temperament that can leave people somewhat isolated. The shy, retiring, introspective person who finds it difficult to make friends can become very isolated over time. It can be a struggle for others to connect with them. To be a stranger in a land or an environment that is foreign to us can also be a very isolating experience. I’m sure some of our recent immigrants would speak to us of an initial sense of isolation. Any one of us can experience a sense of isolation from time to time. I remember my first weekend in the seminary at the age of 18. It was my first time away from home for any length. The sense of isolation was overwhelming, although it did pass. We may feel isolated even though we are surrounded by people, friends and family. We can be struggling with personal issues that we find very difficult to share with others, even those who are closest to us. In such a situation it can be a great relief to meet someone who is struggling with similar issues.

 In the time of Jesus the disease of leprosy left a person totally isolated. If you were a leper, there was no one for company but other lepers. The community needed to protect itself from a highly contagious disease, and the only effective way to do this was to isolate the leper from all forms of human interaction. In that context, the action of Jesus in touching the leper in today’s gospel reading would have been considered subversive. His touching the leper was putting the whole community at risk. A chain is as strong as its weakest link. Here was a weak link, someone who risked the health of the whole community by touching an infected person. If you watch the TV programme you know what happens to the weakest link. They are banished into the darkness; they are treated like lepers. Yet, in touching the leper, Jesus did not in fact infect the community. He healed the leper and, thereby, strengthened the community. In responding to the cry of the leper and in reaching into his isolation, Jesus released him into the community again. Having healed the leper, we are told that Jesus had to stay outside in places where nobody lived. His touching the leper cost him something; he took upon himself something of the leper’s isolation. This kind of ministry would eventually lead Jesus to become totally isolated. He would be crucified ‘outside’ the city where nobody lived, where he would die isolated and alone.

 The gospel reading reveals Jesus as someone who desires to enter into our isolation, who seeks to release us from our isolation, even at the cost of experiencing great isolation himself. He continues to enter our experiences of isolation today if, like the leper, we invite him. In the gospel of John Jesus says, ‘Anyone who comes to me, I will never drive away’. When the leper came to Jesus, he half expected to be driven away. This explains his rather tentative request, ‘if you are willing…’ In reply Jesus said, ‘Of course I am willing’. We can be equally tentative in our own approach to the Lord. Like the leper, we may feel unclean in some way. Something in our lives, in our past or in our present, can make us hesitate to draw near to the Lord. We may wonder if the Lord is willing to draw near to us. Yet, there is no part of our lives which the Lord will not gladly touch with his compassionate and life-giving presence. There is nothing in us that would keep him from us. He does not hesitate to touch, even to embrace, those parts of our lives we may consider ugly and infected. It is we who need to rise above our hesitation. The letter to the Hebrews puts it well when it encourages us, ‘Let us approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need’.

 The gospel reading encourages us to approach the Lord with the same assurance with which he approaches us. That reading also challenges us to be as alert to those who may be crying out to us in their isolation as Jesus was to the leper. That cry is not always easy to hear, even when it comes from those close to us. It can be subtle and faint. It can be hesitant, as it seeks out whether we are willing. Our own preoccupations can prevent us from hearing it, and can make us hesitate to respond. We may sense that it will cost us something to respond. Yet, to hear and respond can be truly life-giving for the one who cries out to us and for us. We ask the Lord to give us the willingness to heed the cry of those who cry out to us in their isolation.

And/Or

(iii) Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 We know from experience that we find it easier to connect with some people than with others. We find ourselves drawn to some individuals and being somewhat put off by others. We can react negatively to some people for a great variety of reasons. Maybe we just do not like the look of them, or we find their personality hard to take, or we have very little sympathy with their views. We probably tend to avoid the people that we find difficult to connect with. We keep them at a distance from us.

 In the time of Jesus the leper was someone that no one wanted to connect with. Indeed, the Jewish law required that lepers be kept at a distance from everyone else. Leprosy was a disease that condemned those afflicted by it to a life in which their only company was other lepers. The disease was contagious and the community had to be preserved from infection. In today’s gospel reading the leper leaves his isolation and daringly approaches Jesus, calling out to him on his knees: ‘If you want to, you can cure me’. He was prepared to break the law that condemned him to isolation in order to make contact with Jesus. Clearly the leper did not doubt Jesus’ ability to heal him, ‘you can cure me’. His only doubt was whether Jesus wanted to cure him, ‘if you want to’. In response to the leper, Jesus did the unthinkable. He stretched out his hand and touched him, declaring as he did so, ‘Of course, I want to!’ The man could now return to the community from which he had been isolated. In connecting with the leper, Jesus enabled the leper to connect with everyone else. In touching him, he enabled the leper to touch others.

 In touching the leper, Jesus reveals a God who wants to make contact with us in all our brokenness. Jesus was declaring that there is no human life that God cannot touch. Everyone kept a distance from the leper. In touching the leper, Jesus was declaring that God is not like everyone. We may keep our distance from God for various reasons, but God never keeps a distance from us. We may think that because of something we have done in the past, we cannot approach God with confidence. Jesus reveals that God is always ready to approach us, regardless of how we might see ourselves, or how others might see us. Jesus could have healed the leper without touching him. The gospel often depicts Jesus healing people with a word. Yet, in the case of the leper, word was not enough. Touching the leper was a much more tangible sign that God wanted to connect with this man. Jesus makes God tangible as well as audible.

 God continues to be tangible as well as audible in the church, the body of the risen Jesus. There is more to the sacraments of the church than words. The sacraments are tangible; they reveal the God who wants to touch us. The water of baptism, the oil of confirmation, the bread and wine of the Eucharist are all tangible signs of God’s presence to us. God wants to touch our lives through his Son. If it does nothing else, the story of Jesus and the leper makes that abundantly clear. The only question is, ‘Do we want God to touch our lives?’ When it comes to God, do we have the passionate daring that the leper shows in today’s gospel reading?

 Outside the context of family and close friends, we have to be careful with touch nowadays. In particular, many of us are much more hesitant to touch children than we might have been in the past. We know that touch can mean many things. It can be self-serving as well as serving of others. It can be harmful as well as helpful. In the culture of his time, Jesus seemed to be remarkably free when it came to touch. In last Sunday’s gospel reading, he took Simon Peter’s mother in law by the hand and lifted her up; later on in Mark’s gospel he takes Jairus’ daughter by the hand and he takes children up in his arms and lays his hands on them. We are hesitant when it comes to touch because we know of what we are made. Jesus had no need to be hesitant. His touch was always deeply respectful and completely life-giving. Jesus shows us a God who recognizes our infinite value and worth and relates to us accordingly. That is why in the words of the letter to the Hebrews, we can ‘approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need’.

And/Or

(iv) Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 There are many places in Ireland that could be termed isolated. They are away from human habitation. They have their own attractiveness because of their isolation. People from the city like to head off to these isolated places to get away from the hustle and bustle of their normal routine. Many people will have their own favourite isolated spot that they keep returning to. It is not always necessary to travel long distances to find such an isolated spot. For those of us living here in Clontarf, parts of the bull island or of Saint Anne’s park can give us all the isolation we need to get a sense of being away from it all. This is the kind of isolation that we seek out; we look for it because we want it and we feel we need it. When we have had enough of it, we can return to our normal day to day routine with its various demands and schedules.

 There are other forms of isolation which we don’t welcome and don’t seek out. When we experience this kind of isolation, we long for someone to enter our isolation and connect deeply with us. Old age can bring on this form of isolation for some. A person’s spouse may have died or they have always been single; family and friends may be very caught up with their own lives. If such a person moves from their home into a nursing home, their sense of isolation can be compounded. Certain forms of illness can bring on this kind of unwelcome and unsought for isolation at any age. People may not visit the person who is ill because they are not sure what to say to them, especially if that person is relatively young.

 In the time of Jesus, the most isolating illness was certainly leprosy. The leper lived apart, with only other lepers for company. Lepers were not only distant from the human community, but they were also considered to be distant from God. That is why they were considered ‘unclean’, in the sense of being at the furthest possible remove from the holiness of God. Not only were they not permitted to approach people, but they were given no encouragement to approach God. That makes the portrayal of the leper in this morning’s gospel reading all the more striking. He approaches Jesus, in spite of the fact that the Jewish law forbade him to approach anyone. Here was a leper who was determined to break out of his isolation. We can only presume that he had come to hear of the healing ministry of Jesus, and that is why he approached him. The leper was in no doubt about Jesus’ power to heal him; his only doubt was whether or not Jesus wanted to heal him, ‘You can cure me, if you want to’. Did this man of God want to connect with someone who was ‘unclean’ and beyond the boundary of God’s reach? Jesus’ response to the leper’s statement was unambiguous, ‘Of course I want to. Be cured’. Jesus showed that he had not only the power to heal him but the desire to do so as well. Jesus wanted what God wanted; in the garden of Gethsemane he would pray, ‘not what I want, but what you want’.

 In saying, ‘Of course I want to’, Jesus was revealing what God wanted. The leper was wrong to think that he was beyond God’s reach. Jesus reveals that there is no human condition - no human situation - that is beyond the reach of God. There is no ‘out of bounds’ as far as God is concerned; there is no need for anyone to live ‘outside the camp’ in the words of the first reading. There were many categories of people in the time of Jesus who had been led to believe that they were beyond the reach of God. Jesus revealed God to be someone who had no fear of contamination but was comfortable entering into the often murky depths of human existence.

 The healing of the leper is the third healing story in Mark’s gospel. In the first healing story, Jesus healed a man by means of his word. Presumably, Jesus could have healed the leper just with a word, ‘Be cured’. Yet, Jesus chose to stretch out his hand and touch the leper. Such was the nature of this man’s isolation that more than a word was needed to show that his isolation was over. He needed to be touched, to be held. It was against the Jewish law to touch a leper, because of the risk of being contaminated and contaminating the whole community. However, Jesus knew that God’s power at work within him could never be contaminated by the human condition. The power of life, of God’s life, within Jesus was stronger that the power of death within the leper. Jesus reveals a God who wants to touch our lives in a life-giving way, regardless of how broken or ugly or hopeless our lives might seem to us or to others. The Lord not only speaks his word to us; he connects with each of us in ways that are concrete and personal.

And/Or

(v) Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

 We all feel a need to connect with others, to be in communion with others. We don’t like to feel isolated or cut off from family, friends, or the wider community. One of the most challenging aspects of sickness or physical disability can be the isolation that it brings. When we are ill or our body grows weak we cannot take the same initiative we used to take to connect with others. People can become housebound because of their physical condition; the things they used to do to meet up with others are no longer possible. Certain forms of illness can be more isolating than others. The most isolating form of illness in the time of Jesus was leprosy. For hygienic reasons, lepers had to live apart, ‘outside the camp’, in the words of today’s first reading. Lepers were only allowed to have each other for company. They lived apart from their family, their friends and the community to which they belonged.

 The leper in today’s gospel reading seemed determined to break out of his isolation. He did something that was unconventional and daring in approaching Jesus and pleading with him, ‘If you want to, you can cure me’. His desperation to be healed of an illness that kept him totally isolated drove him to do something that was against the Jewish Law at the time. In response to the leper’s daring approach, Jesus did something just as unconventional. He reached out his hand and touched the leper. If it was forbidden for a leper to approach the healthy, it was certainly forbidden for a healthy person to touch a leper. It seems that the leper’s desire to be freed from his isolation was met by an equally strong desire on the part of Jesus to deliver the leper from his isolation. The gospels portray Jesus as someone who worked to deliver people from their isolation, whether it is an isolation imposed by illness, as in the case of the leper, or by their lifestyle, as in the case of someone like Zacchaeus.

 Both the person of Jesus and of the leper have something to say to us about steps we can take to connect with people, to break out of our isolation, even when the odds seem to be stacked against us. We can all be tempted from time to time to retreat into our shell, whether it is because of our health or some disability or some past experience that has drained us of life. It is at such times that we need something of the initiative and daring energy of the leper. There can come a time when, like the leper, we need to take our courage in our own hands and, against the conventional expectation, to head out in some bold direction. It was desperation that drove the leper to seek out Jesus. Sometimes for us too, it can be our desperation that finally gets us going, gets us to connect with that person who matters to us and to whom we matter more than we realize or that gets us to link up with some gathering or some group that has the potential to do us good or maybe even to transform our lives. Sometimes I can be amazed at the initiatives that some people take to connect with others, people who are much less healthier than I am and are much less physically able. I come across it all the time in the parish, such as older people who have mastered the internet and have come completely at home with Skype; younger people who in spite of some serious disability have found the means to live a very full life in the service of others. The man in today’s gospel reading who approaches Jesus could well be the patron saint of all those who strive to connect with others against all the odds.

 Unlike the leper, Jesus was perfectly healthy, yet, like the leper, he had something of the same desire and energy to connect with others. When Jesus was approached by the leper, he could have run away, as most people would have done. Instead, he stood his ground and engaged with the leper. He engaged with him not only by word but by action. He not only spoke to the leper, but he touched him. Jesus often healed people by means of his word alone; but this man who had suffered from extreme isolation needed to be touched. Jesus did more than was asked of him; he took an initiative that was as daring as the leper’s initiative towards him. He went as far as any human being could possibly go to deliver this man from his isolation. What the Lord did for the leper he wishes to continue doing through each one of us today. There are many isolated and lonely people among us. The scope is there for all of us to take the kind of step that Jesus took towards the leper. Again, I can see examples of that in the parish all the time, such as people who look in on neighbours and make sure that they are all right and have what they need. There are always people among us waiting to be touched by our compassionate presence. When they are, they can experience the same kind of transformation as the leper did in today’s gospel reading.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

[lifesizehysteria]

Journey to You - Chapter 13 | An AdamsFoster Fic

A/N: I know the last chapter was a rough one and the road ahead is still a rocky one but hopefully it all ends up worth it in the end. Thanks for all the comments and love and for sticking with me!

Almost two weeks had passed since coming out to her dad and the days went by in a blur. The weight of rejection from both him and Lena, different as those rejections were, was crushing. The shame she felt made her long for the familiarity of her own ignorance and she tried to wrap herself up in it again, to close herself back behind that door. But now the lights were on. She could see the walls were too close, the space too small and no matter how tightly she curled into herself, she didn’t fit. Her knuckles turned white and her fingers ached from holding so hard and still, that damn door wouldn’t stay closed. Coming out felt impossible but she was quickly realizing that not coming out would be just as hard.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to exist as a gay person. She didn’t know how to go through life so… different from everyone else, so conspicuous. If she came out, her sexuality would be the only part about her that mattered. People would no longer see her as Stef, the police officer or as Brandon’s mom. They wouldn’t care that she was good at basketball or that she loved hiking and camping. Her sense of humor and her confidence would disappear and she would just be Stef, the lesbian. She hated that of all the things she was, that was the only piece that people would care about.

The time she spent with Brandon was when she felt the most herself. Being a mom was second nature and it was easiest to lose herself in that role. He didn’t know or care about her personal crisis. He demanded her attention and most of the time, it kept her distracted. But every day, being in the closet became less tolerable and as she began to contemplate coming out with real seriousness, she had moments with him that made her question everything. Summer was coming to an end and he was about to start kindergarten. Was she really going to make him that kid? The kid with the gay mom, who had to explain what that meant to every friend he made? What if he was embarrassed of her? What if he resented her for it? How would she feel knowing that she was going to be that mom in his class, every year? It tied her stomach in knots just thinking about it and every time she was sure she was ready to pick up the phone to call Mike, it was the one thing that stopped her.

On the Wednesday before the first day of school, Stef had spent the afternoon getting ready for the Open House where she and Brandon would get to see his classroom, meet his teacher, and get acquainted with his classmates. After changing her outfit four times, putting extra effort into her usual basic makeup routine, and even taking the time to curl her hair, by the time she was ready, Brandon had been moping around her room and she was feeling way over-dressed for meeting a kindergarten teacher. But it was a school function which meant Lena would likely to be there somewhere and if there was even a chance she might run into her… Well, she probably wouldn’t but Stef felt the need to look her best anyway.

The school was bustling with wandering parents and chattering children. Stef navigated the busy hallway, following construction paper signs to the elementary wing and searching for the right room while Brandon clung to her hand, sticking close by her side. Crowds always made him nervous.

“Here it is: Room 15.” She guided Brandon through the doorway that had a handmade sign reading “Mrs. Atkins” hanging on the door.

“Cool! Frogs!” Brandon exclaimed as he halted in the middle of the room, taking it all in. Frogs were plastered all over the room. On the border around the bulletin board, on posters. There were construction paper frogs on the walls and a large blue square of carpeting at the back of the class with little, round green mats that looked an awful lot like a lily pond. It was charming.

“Look, Mommy!” Brandon pointed across the room to a giant stuffed frog.

“Whoa! How cool!”

“Can I go look?”

Stef scanned around the room. There were only a couple other families there but there didn’t seem to be any kind of structure and she hadn’t spotted the teacher yet. Since she didn’t know how this thing was supposed to go, she figured mingling at this point couldn’t hurt.

“Sure, bud.”

Brandon darted over to the giant toy and as Stef trailed behind him, she didn’t even notice her nervousness about Lena fade away. Her mind was busy with Brandon and the classroom and all of her other worries disappeared, the way they usually did when she was with her son.

Taking in the layout of the room, Stef’s imagination wandered. She could see Brandon sitting at one of the desks with his head bent over his work or bouncing in his chair with his hand raised, eager to answer a question. Sitting on one of the green mats during story time. Making friends. Oh, she hoped he would make friends. Her boy was so shy and she worried so much about him being able to open up to other kids.

“Mommy, mommy, it’s taller than me!” he said as he reached up, not quite able to touch the top of the frog’s head.

“Look at that! How tall do you think it is?”

“A hundred feet!” he stated with certainty.

“A hundred, huh? That’s really tall.”

Brandon gave a firm nod, oblivious to the laugh his mother was failing to suppress.

“I see you’ve met Mr. Frogsworth,” an unfamiliar voice interjected. The arrival of a stranger had Brandon back by Stef’s side, clamped onto her leg. “I’m Mrs. Atkins. Welcome.” She extended her hand to Stef. She was a thin but sturdy white woman. Though she stood almost a full head shorter than Stef, she held herself with a confidence that made her stature unremarkable. Her black hair was cropped at her shoulders, straight with streaks of silver at her temples. Her smile was warm and her handshake firm.

“Hi. Stef Foster. And this is my son, Brandon.”

“Hello, Brandon. It’s nice to meet you.” Brandon peeked at her from around Stef’s leg as she smiled down at him. “Are you going to be in my class this year?” she asked and received only a small shrug of one shoulder in response.

“Sorry, he’s shy,” Stef apologized as she rubbed her son’s back.

“Don’t worry. He’ll warm up soon enough,” Mrs. Atkins assured her. “So, Brandon. Do you like to color?”

Brandon looked up at his mom. When she encouraged him with a smile he gave the smallest nod.

“Oh good! Then you’ll love what I have to show you. Why don’t you and your mom follow me?” She didn’t wait for an answer before heading toward a long table at the far side of the room. Stef dislodged Brandon from her leg and led him by hand in the same direction. “Alright, now, everyone in my class has to have one of these.” She held up a sheet of paper with the black outline of a frog’s head in the center. “We’re going to put your name on the top in big letters and then this will go on the front of your desk so everyone knows which one is yours. But it’s a little plain, don’t you think?” Brandon nodded again. “Would you like to decorate it? And then, when you’re done, you can pick which desk we tape it to so you know right where to sit when you come to school on Monday.”

He looked up at Stef again and she could see the excitement in his eyes behind the nervousness.

“I think that sounds like a great idea, huh, bud?”

Brandon nodded again, this time with a timid smile as he took the offered paper from his teacher.

Steering him toward a seat beside another child, Stef got him settled at the table with a handful of markers and sat down beside him. He was busy trying to color in the lines, dragging his marker with precision as more kids filtered into the room. The table filled up and eventually Stef gave her seat up to a little girl with her hair in two black, curly puffs on top of her head.

"I'm going to go talk to your teacher real quick, okay, B? I'll be right back." Brandon nodded, engrossed in the activity enough to have forgotten to worry. Stef ruffled his hair before turning in search of Mrs. Atkins. She was at the other end of the table praising some of the kids' artwork and handing out chocolate chip cookies.

"Hi, Mrs. Atkins?" Stef gently interrupted.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. ..."

"Foster," Stef supplied. "But call me Stef. Please."

"Of course." Mrs. Atkins offered a warm, polite smile. "What can I do for you, Stef?"

"Well, you saw how shy my son Brandon is. I'm just concerned about him making friends. He doesn't spend a lot of time with other kids and even when he does, he usually prefers to play by himself."

"I wouldn't worry too much. That’s called parallel play and it's a perfectly healthy and natural way for kids to play. Some kids get overstimulated by constant interaction and prefer the quietude of singular play, even in the company of others. But even just the small interactions that come from, say, sharing the same box of crayons helps foster relationships and build friendships."

Stef nodded. That all sounded good but he would barely talk to other kids. "How is he supposed to make friends if he won't talk to anyone?" she asked. He was so different from her that way. Being social, making friends had come so easily to her as a kid. She didn't know how to help him and sending him off to school where she wouldn't be there with him scared her.

"That's him over there, isn't it?" Mrs. Atkins pointed in his direction. Brandon was showing his picture to the little girl next to him. His face was bright with a smile and she could hear him giggle. "Like I said, I don't think you have anything to worry about," she said with a knowing smile.

Stef let out a little burst of surprised laughter. "Well, I'll be damned!" she said before remembering who she was speaking to. "Wow, I can't believe I just said that. I'm so sorry!" She gave a nervous laugh and shuffled her feet.

"It's fine–”

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry to interrupt,” another voice, approaching from behind Stef, broke into their conversation. “Robin, could I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course. Stef, this is our Assistant Vice Principal–”

“Lena,” Stef said in unison as Lena came to stand beside her.

Surprise flashed across Lena’s face for just an instant before she covered it with a mask of cool professionalism.

“So you’ve met,” Mrs. Atkins said, looking between the of them.

Stef could feel her cheeks blazing. She cleared her throat and a nervous grin tugged at her lips.

“We have,” she said, her words airy despite the purposeful steadiness of her voice. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from Lena.

“Oh good,” the teacher said, a bright smile on her face. “Because if you ever need anything from the school, Lena is the one to go to. She’s got all the connections, she knows everyone. No one will work harder for you than Lena will. Did you know, she actually helped found the charter?”

Still watching Lena, Stef’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“No, she never told me. That’s very impressive.”

“She’s really amazing.”

“Yes, she is.” A soft smile pulled across Stef’s face. “She’s really one of a kind.”

Lena’s demeanor shifted but it seemed only Stef noticed. She could feel the tension coming from her as it changed from uncomfortable to angry. She could see it in the vein visible down the center of her forehead and the way her smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, like she was fighting to keep it there. Stef’s eyes finally turned away and she cleared her throat again.

“I’m sorry. I um, I should– I’ll just–” Stef motioned over her shoulder with her thumb, “let you ladies talk.” When she smiled it was more of a grimace. “Thank you, by the way,” she said to Brandon’s teacher. “I’m sure Brandon’s going to have a great time in your class.” Her eyes darted back over to Lena whose own were wide beneath eyebrows arched dangerously high. Stef gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, okay then.” She gave a half-hearted wave before turning and walking in the opposite direction, her cheeks flaming and her hands shaking.

When she had put enough distance between them, Stef stood in a loose crowd of other mingling parents. She glanced at Lena from across the room between attempts at studying the tan floor tiles. When the two women had finished their conversation and Lena headed toward the classroom door, Stef’s heart started beating in her throat. She glanced back at Brandon. He was immersed in his artwork and unaware of her absence. After a brief hesitation, with sweaty palms and a lack of better judgment, Stef headed for the door.

Lena was halfway down the corridor by the time Stef was out of the classroom.

“Lena, wait,” she called. She saw Lena hesitate, then continue without looking back. “Lena,” she said again as her walk turned to a jog. “Lena, please wait.” As she caught up to her, Stef grabbed her wrist. Lena spun on her heel and pulled her wrist from Stef’s grasp. Her mouth was pursed and her nose flaring, her black eyes were hard and cold as steel.

“What the hell are you doing, Stef?” The edge in her hushed voice was sharp and unforgiving.

“I just want to talk to you.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

“Okay, but– You seemed mad at me in there and I’m… Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t know, Stef. How about trying to flirt with me in front of my coworker, in a classroom full of parents and students?”

Stef gaped at her. “I didn’t– I wasn’t flirting.”

“Weren’t you?” Lena put her hands on her hips, straightening to her full height. “‘That’s very impressive,’” she mimicked in a fawning tone. “‘She’s one of a kind.’”

“Come on, Lena. I was just agreeing with her. What was I supposed to say? How terrible you are?”

“No, Stef. You shouldn’t have said anything.”

Stef sighed and shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Lena, okay? I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable or, or say anything inappropriate. I just–”

“I don’t care what you were or weren’t trying to do,” Lena interrupted. “You can’t do this, Stef. You can’t bring this here. My job is very important to me and I will not let you jeopardize it because you can’t keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Stef said again, the words quiet and genuine this time.

“The fact of the matter is, with Brandon going to school here, we will see each other. And I need you to be able to handle that without making a scene or turning everything into… this.” When she gestured between them, Stef took a small step back. She hadn’t even realized how close she’d gotten to her.

“Okay,” Stef uttered toward the floor.

“Thank you,” Lena said and let her arms fall down by her sides.

A beat passed and Stef turned her eyes up to Lena’s. They were a bit softer and Stef’s heart ached as she searched them. There was a voice in her head telling her to just tell Lena she’d come out to her dad and that she understood what Lena needed from her and that she was ready to do it. Because then, in that moment, with Lena there as a reminder of everything that could be, she was finally ready. But how could she tell her any of it after what she’d just promised?

She could feel Lena already pulling away and she didn’t know how to deal with that again. She couldn’t lose her. Not again. Not completely.

“You asked me before, when this all started, if I could have feelings for you and still be friends. I think– Can we just, go back to that?” Lena started to shake her head.

“You said that you could do that and–”

“That was when I thought it was one-sided.” Lena shrugged. “And even then, it wouldn’t have worked. It was naive of me to think that it could. And now? After everything? There’s no way we can go back.”

“I miss you, Lena. Maybe we can’t be more than friends but… I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m sorry but…” Looking down, she worried her lips together. “I’m not doing this. I can’t. I–” Her eyes drifted back up to meet Stef’s. “I’m done, Stef.”

Lena turned to leave but Stef grabbed her wrist again.

“Lena.”

Lena stopped and looked at Stef over her shoulder. Her eyes were unreadable but when she spoke, her flat tone barely concealed the tremble in her voice.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is. Please. Just let me go.”

Stef held on for just another moment before she let go of her wrist and watched Lena walk the entire length of the hall without even looking back. It wasn’t until she disappeared around a corner that she began to accept that she really wasn’t going to turn around. It was over and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

[breath-of-the-zora-prince]

Lost

Request: Hello! First - I love the blog! Your writing is so nice and it's adorable! Second - may I request a S/O who wanders into the Lost Woods without thinking and gets lost somehow? Maybe BOTW!Link has to go find her in hopes that nothing bad happens? Thank you! <3

For: @briqhtskye

Word count: 3325

Fr tho what’s with me and knocking S/O out? Also I had way too much fun writing this, rip my wrists.

The pale light of the morning sun woke you up, cascading over your slumbering form that had been leaning against your goods for the night, underneath a rock to shelter from the rain. Your fire had dwindled down to ash, and your skin had a gentle coating of dew. The air felt warm, heat emanating from the volcano active behind you. The day was beginning, and you were off to travel to sell your wares once again.

You had actually just gotten back from a stable, where the Legendary hero Link had sold you out of all your wares. Luckily, you were able to collect more materials to make arrows as well as ingredients; it helped that he sold you his own materials. A smile danced across your lips as you thought of the handsome young man, smiling at you as he paid for his supplies. You couldn’t help but blush at the thought that he always came to you, rather than Beedle or any of the other traveling merchants. You scratched the back of your head laughing, before standing up and pulling your stuff on your back.

Pulling out your old worn map, you looked at the trail ahead of you, mumbling to yourself. Trying to navigate, you made your way up a path, not before taking a detour towards a hot spring. You felt uncomfortably moist, and the best way you thought to remedy that was to bathe in the hot waters of the blessed springs. It was nice that they were naturally heated with minerals that made you feel incredible, both physically and mentally. You had a suspicion that perhaps the goddess herself had blessed these little pools. Though it was an outrageous thought, it tickled you. A small giggle erupted past your lips as you approached the steaming area, a smile lining your lips, already feeling comforted. That is, until you heard a mysterious splash.

A chill ran up your spine as you slowly crept towards one of the pools, a figure forming in the water. Slowly, you set down your stuff as the person came into more detail, a very familiar hylian with a ponytail and stunning cerulean eyes. Perhaps it was the heat, or perhaps it was the company, but your cheeks grew deep red.

“O-Oh Link!” You exclaimed, taking a small step back as he turned to look at you, his eyes just as wide as yours. One had shoots under the water while the other lifts up to gently wave at you. He seemed embarrassed.

Maybe because he was naked.

Once you realized that you quickly turned around, feeling more heat get to your head. You heard the water swiftly move behind you, it sounded as though he was getting out. You gulped, feeling ashamed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I should’ve let you know I was here the second I heard you! Please, don’t get out on my account I’ll just go to one of the other pools and then I’ll be on my way. While I’m here though would you like to take a look at my wares?” You felt yourself rambling when you felt a tap on your shoulder, and you turned, greeted with a shirtless - and pantless - hero. You gulped, a twitch of your eyes gazing at his form. He had slipped on his underwear, but that didn’t stop him from being stunning.His years of training were apparent, from the scars across his smooth skin, to the definition of muscles in his arms and body. You felt your heart seize. Quickly, you turned again, hiding the fact you must’ve looked like a lobster being cooked.

Ironic you were in a hot spring.

You hear him chuckle and walk to the other side of you so you were forced to look at him. You felt a lump in your throat, trapped in the stunning gaze of his eyes.

“Do you want to join me?” He asked, his expression gentle and calm, as if he was asking a simple question. How did this come to be?

Sure, you had always hoped his compliments and his jokes were flirting, you had hoped he thought about you on his dangerous adventures. You had never expected an invitation like this to come from the hero of ages. This man, a man who has been reincarnated into heros throughout the ages, throughout the alternate realities, is asking if you would join him for a bath.

“U-huh,” you responded intellectually.

He seemed to chuckle from that, slowly walking back into the water, making sure his back was to you. You couldn’t see it while you slowly got undressed, but he was just as flustered as you. His hand on his mouth and wondering why he asked you. Did he seem like an idiot? Was it too forward? Why couldn’t he have just asked you out to dinner like he wanted to?! He was having a mental argument with himself when you slowly turned around, lowering into the water so that it was up to your neck. You felt content, Your hands sliding up and down your arms, working the warm water into your tired muscles. You made sure to keep your back to him, feeling his eyes burn into the back of your head. While you felt self conscious, he was marveling at how stunning you were, despite being hidden from his gaze. He had never seen your hair down from its usual ponytail, and he was mesmerized by the way it danced on the surface of the water. The way your body curved under the water caused heat to slide up his face. You were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and he was the princess’ personal knight.

“S-so, where are you off to next on your great adventure?” You asked, breaking the silence that hung in the air. He drew in a breath, as if he was returning to reality. He gestured behind himself, but since you weren’t looking, he felt obligated to speak. Which meant the possibility of stuttering from nervousness.

“W-well, you s-see, that mountain behind us?” he gulped, running over the script in his head and forcing the words to grow fluid as you turned, seeing death mountain’s glorious form. “Yeah, there.” You snorted a bit, and as attractive as it felt, his comment made you laugh. It eased the tension between the two of you, and he felt a burst of pride.

It got easier after that, you two ignored the fact that you were practically naked and just enjoyed your time together, without the stress of having to survive. You felt your heart flutter whenever he smiled, and the way his eyes lit up when you brought up something he was passionate about. Sure, the conversation was mostly one sided, but you knew he was engaged. He clinged onto every word you said as you told him about your own life and your travels.

Eventually, the sun rose far past the trees, you two had taken to sitting on a rock while your legs dangled in the water, letting your makeshift suits dry before putting on your regular clothes. You were sharing a bottle of water when Link was finishing telling as story about how he destroyed a moblin camp, and you couldn’t help feel the ethereal air around him.

“You did not!” You exclaimed, mouth gaping. He burst into laughter.

“I did! I just stood at the top of a hill and just kept dropping and dropping bombs, they didn’t suspect a thing.” This was the most you’ve heard him talk, but you loved it. He was opening up to you. You laughed, wondering how such a small man could carry around so many bombs. You didn’t think too much into it, because whether or not it was a fib, it was entertaining, and he was making you happy.

“Gosh, I could never do anything like that. The best I can do is make a fire, but I can’t fight.” You laughed, taking a sip of water and watching your feet create ripples in the waters surface. He smiled and looked at you, feeling his heart race.

“W-well, I could help with that.” He said, watching your face light up at the joy.

“Y-yeah! I’d love that. I travel so much, it’d be good to know some self defense.” You smiled wide.  You’d have a chance to spend time with him outside of your duties. He nodded in agreement.

“It’s a date, then.” He smiled, causing your heart to slam against your ribcage. You nodded, handing him the water as you looked away. You felt like a young adolescent again, being asked for a dance at your village’s festival.

You parted after that, returning to the path you had first started on. You couldn’t get the thought of him out of your head as you walked up the path. A smile lined your lips as you imagined his eyes watching you closely, the gentle brush of your fingers as you exchanged water, the way his body moved so elegantly in water. The way he spoke to you, as well. It was enchanting, and you felt trapped in a fairytale with a handsome knight. The best kind of trap.

You giggled, returning to reality  long enough to realize you had no idea where you were. Your smile faded as you looked around, gnarling trees surrounding you as a haze faltered your vision. You clinged onto your backpack for support as you realized you were trapped in the Lost Woods.

You muttered a swear, biting your lip. You didn’t want to move, knowing if you did you’d be engulfed in a mysterious haze that altered your reality to place you somewhere else. After about ten minutes of contemplating your choice, you decided to start moving, since nothing would help if you didn’t. You used the fog to help guide you; whenever your vision became too impaired to see ahead of you, you changed directions until you could walk forward without precautions. You weren’t sure where you were going, but hoped you’d make it to an exit. There was no specific trail on your map, so that was useless. This method seemed to be working, your steps were slow, and your movements hesitant, but you were moving.

It took about an hour to walk what felt like a mile. You knew the land wasn’t too big, so you began to feel as though you were walking in circles. It didn’t help that all the trees looked the same and you were beginning to feel frustrated with your lack of focus. After about another half hour, you felt defeated, leaning against a willowing tree as you slid down, placing your bag beside you and pulling your knees up to hide your face in anger. How could you wind up in this mess? Would you ever get out? A sigh passed your lips as you heard a growl rumble around you. The air felt as if it dropped ten degrees as you looked ahead of you, eyes wide and frustration replaced with terror.

“H-hello?” you decided to call out, considering the last time you heard a noise but said nothing, you saw Link naked. Though, that wasn’t a bad thing. This was. Yellow eyes pierced through the fog, starting with one pair, then another, and another. Three wolves broke through the surface of cloud, stalking closer to you. They snarled, a slower burn of horror as you slowly stood up, prepared to run. You felt frozen, and it wasn’t until one pounced that you ran. Your heart pounded as you heard barking close behind you. Tears stung your eyes, and you didn’t care if the fog claimed you if it meant you’d be safe from the wolves. It didn’t, and you were still being chased.

You glanced over your shoulders, seeing the eyes chase after you. A yelp involuntarily fell past your lips as you kept running, wanting to call for help but unable to find the words. Again, you looked behind you, but instead of continuing to run, your foot caught on an intrusive vine, causing you to fall hard onto the cold ground and your head to slam into one of the trees. It throbbed horribly as the wolves stalked their prey, closing in on the injured animal they were ready to eat. Your vision faltered, fading as you felt tears stream down your face. The trees seemed to mock you, and you were ready to embrace darkness.

You heard a yell come through your concussion, seeing a blurry figure slice down the wolves and rush towards you. You felt a sudden jolt, warm and comforting arms holding you close, a calloused hand caressing your cheek as you heard your name called to you. Before you could respond, your eyes closed as your vision faded.

“No...no no don’t sleep Y/N,” Link patted your cheek to startle you awake. He swore, lifting you up and running as fast as he could through the fog towards his original destination. You were fading in and out of consciousness, your arms lazily draping around his strong, narrow shoulders. Before you realized it, you were being laid in a soft layer of warm grass. It was soft against your bruised body, and the beautiful man in a blue tunic was replaced with a small creature, chirping to the man that carried you here. You looked around, trying to ignore the pain in your head. A deeper voice echoed around you, but you couldn’t make out the words. Link lowered to his knees and smiled down at you. He pulled your head up to his lap as he brushed back your hair. You felt at peace.

“Tell me about your childhood,” he said, running delicate fingers against your scalp, and it helped the pain subside. You began rambling broken sentences as he listened closely. He laughed at your bad jokes, his fingers gentle on your skin. Your vision became clearly, but it felt better to keep your eyes closed from the light. Suddenly, you felt something poke your cheek. Slowly your eyes opened and you turned your head to look at a tiny tree looking at you. Your eyes widened in surprise, you consciousness returning as you shot up, your head throbbing again. You heard Link coax you back into laying in his lap, but that didn’t stop you from staring at the creature you had never seen before.

“Miss!” You heard it speak, holding up a pink elixir. “Drink and you’ll feel good!” He held it between his stubs for arms and you felt your heart melt. You nodded, grabbing the drink and sitting up, slower this time. You felt a hand run along your back as your downed the drink. It tasted like nothing, and yet it tasted incredible. The bruises on your body dissipated as the pain on your head subsided. Your vision cleared and you had a chance to grasp your surrounding.

Setting the bottle down, you slowly stood up in wonder, looking around you. Tears of joy touched your eyes as you circled around the area.

“It’s real…” you whispered. Wide eyed and smiling. “It’s actually here, I’ve heard legends but…” you gulped, looking down at the smiling Hylian. “So you’re really… goddess I can’t believe this.” You laughed, beginning to walk around and explore, but not before thanking the small korok who helped you. You walked up to the altar, seeing the master sword in it’s hilt. So it was here, the reason you had a hard time grasping the idea that this man was the hero of legends. He didn’t have his blade.

“It’s good to see you’re well, young one.” Slowly, you looked to see the owner of the deep, calming voice. You gulped, your mouth gaping as the legendary Great Deku Tree stood before you, as grand and as beautiful as you thought. You felt humbled as you watched him.

“A-ah, hello,” you said, intellectually. It seemed to make him chuckle. You heard movement behind you as Link came up behind you, smiling.

“I’ll be right back,” he informed, and before you could protest, he was gone. You let out a huff and looked around, seeing the place littered with small creatures, curious of you as much as you were of them.

“It’s… it’s an honor to be here, sir.” You said, looking back up at the Lord of this forest. He smiled, which was funny to you considering he was a tree.

“Our young hero really cares about you, I hope you know.” You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and smiling.

“I had a suspicion.” You glanced down at the beautiful flowers surrounding you as you looked at the master sword’s detail. It was stunning. You had seen paintings and tapestries of the legendary sword, but you never thought it would be this magnificent.

While you waited for Link to return, you decided to interact with the koroks, who stole your heart instantly. You told them stories while they braided your hair, placing silent princess and chilling violet in the weaves. One sat in your looking up at you curiously and you couldn’t get over how adorable it was. You heard shuffling come from the Lost Woods as link returned with your backpack, and you smiled. He looked at you wide eyed. You must’ve been a sight, surrounding by small koroks who were playing around you, clinging on you. One had climbed to sit on your head. You laughed, reaching up and slowly setting the creature beside you, as well as the one in your lap as you stood.

“Can I keep one?” You asked, laughing as you walked up to him. “This place is a dream, Link.” He seemed flustered as he handed you his bag, but he was smiling widely, studying you.

“You’re beautiful…” He said impulsively, before a deep red lined both his and your cheeks. He walked past you to the hilt of the blade. He began telling the Deku Tree that he’d return for his sword, but the Deku Tree cut in.

“No time like the present, Link.” Link turned to glance at you and blush before looking to the blade.

“You’re right, which is while I’ll be back,” He smiled in response as the Deku Tree seemed to nod in understanding, smiling towards you.

“Good luck, Y/N, stay safe. The next time you visit I hope we won’t have to heal you.” He said, causing you to smile and nod.

“I would love that.” You said, before Link took your hand and lead you back to the Lost Woods. It felt much less intimidating with him beside you. Before you entered the fog, away from the eyes of curious koroks, Link pulled you into a tight hug, catching you off guard. Your eyes widened as you blushed, responding by wrapping loose arms around you.

“I know I know, I was reckless, but in my defense I did ask you to teach me for a reason, and think about it after we have our training session I could come back here alone and find my way back. It’ll also be safer for me to-” you were rambling, and it wasn’t until Link pulled away to press his lips against yours that you stopped.

His lips were warm and soft, gentle against your own as he held you close. Your body fell against his as you kissed him in return. You felt as though you were floating, and his arms were the only thing holding you down. Your lips felt particularly cold when you pulled away, drawing out a sigh as he did. He didn’t need to speak, his eyes told you all they needed to. You felt warm and fuzzy by the color of his eyes as he took your hand and lead you into the Lost Woods.

[rannadylin]

Clan and Court, Chapter 3: Folcsdag

Lots of writing going on here today, including a third chapter of Clan and Court that’s basically as long as the first two chapters put together. Yay subplot! :-) Herein we get to know the Itzli siblings a little better, learn shocking things about Anselm, and actually make some grueling progress on this mystery investigation. Also, I do a lot of research on farming various types of livestock. And poisonous plants in Eora. Whee!

Word count: 4.6K

Rating: G or maybe PG for brief fight scene

Pairing: Watcher Violet/Edér Teylecg...eventually :-)

Read it here or on AO3

Previously: Chapters 1 & 2 here and on AO3

Chapter 3: Folcsdag

They reached Dyrford late the next morning. In the hours on the road, Edér learned that Audie’s sharp eyes missed nothing but that her sharp tongue barely concealed a fierce protectiveness toward all her siblings; that Xipil’s hound was fanatical about rabbit jerky (thanks to Xipil quietly pressing a wad of the meat into Edér’s hand and nodding toward the dog, collaborating in Edér’s thus far fruitless attempts to win Yaotl’s affection); that Yolotli must be some sort of soul twin to Kana Rua, the way she took in every sight on the road with such delight and had apparently never grown out of the question-laden stages of early childhood. She soon gravitated toward Edér, skipping to keep up with his longer steps, her braids bouncing over her shoulders, till he caught on and shortened his stride for her. Far from naive, her questions about the landscape, the flora, the fauna, the peoples of the Dyrwood, their beliefs, their customs, their clothes, their cuisine, and every other topic that crossed her mind revealed a quick intelligence, handily assimilating and comparing his answers with what she already knew of other lands.

Questions about Edér himself came, instead, from Audie. Nor did they come immediately. For the first day, she kept a watchful eye on him but interacted mainly with her siblings. When they broke camp the next morning, though, she soon fell back to walk with Edér at the rear of the party, where he’d been keeping a curious eye on all the orlans.

“You know, big man,” she said, keeping up with his stride without apparent effort even before he remembered to slow down, “I’ve been looking forward to actually meeting you.”

Edér’s stride stuttered mid-step as he processed this. “How’s that?”

“Violet mentioned you in her letters, naturally.” And she looked up at him with a smirk that he couldn’t quite interpret.

“Oh. Guess that...makes sense? All good, I hope.”

“Depends on how you mean that. Me, I was hoping for more embarrassing stories to hold against you, but Vi’s too nice for that.”

“Ha! Wait...more embarrassing stories? Like, more than none or…”

“Don’t worry. Even the embarrassing ones were quite affectionate.”

This left Edér at a loss for words. He scratched at his beard and looked at Audie out of the corner of one eye until she piped up again.

“So you don’t actually live at Caed Nua, then?”

“Nah, not all the time, anyway. Got a room in Brighthollow for when I do stop by, on Night Market business or just to see Vi. Apparently your brother Nico’s family is occupying it right now.”

“Oh, that one.” Audie glanced at him, a shrewd glint in her eye. “So outside of Caed Nua, where do you call home? Vi said you met in a place called Gilded Vale.”

“Haven’t called that home for a while now,” he nodded. “Fact is,” he lowered his voice, “I owe your sister a lot for getting me away from that place. Probably wouldn’t still be around if not for her.”

Audie’s look softened to a smile. “She does tend to have that effect.”

“Right? I mean, I could point out half a dozen people’s lives she basically saved, or at least set on a better course than before, and that’s just the ones she traveled with back when we were fixing Waidwen’s Legacy, not to mention all the random people she helped ‘long the way, or the Eothasian folks we’re looking out for these days, or everyone who looks to Caed Nua for help of any sort.”

“You’re a fan, I see,” Audie grinned.

Edér felt an unaccustomed warmth to his cheeks and looked away. “Yeah...guess so. Proud to call her a friend.”

“Me too,” Audie said, her voice warm even as she jabbed Edér in the side with a friendly elbow of solidarity. He yelped, more from surprise than anything -- it was much the sort of sibling rough-and-tumble he’d once been used to, but that was years ago and he was hardly expecting it from Violet’s sibling. And yet...it was nice. He traded companionable smirks with her as she continued, “So you must live in Dyrford, then?”

“Most of the time,” he said. “Found work on a farm there. Keeps me busy and keeps me in contact with folks who need us. Night Market’s growing fastest in Dyrford of anywhere. I run a lot of messages, though, to Vi or to our folks in Defiance Bay, so don’t know if I’d call Dyrford home. I’m on the road most of the time.”

“Your farm, was it one of the ones that got poisoned?”

Edér nodded. “Then when we heard about the others, Gjegricg -- it’s his farm I work on -- realized it was only happening to Eothasians. He and the others wrote Vi for help, and here I am.”

“Because she’s a priest?”

“Only priest of Eothas left in these parts. And because she’s damn good at sorting out trouble,” Edér grinned.

“That,” Audie said with a toothy smile, “runs in the family.”

The Itzli siblings were open books, however, compared to Anselm Coatl. Edér made sure to always keep an eye on that one, but Anselm seemed determined to keep to himself throughout the first day’s march. He walked towards the front of the group, near Violet but not too near. Though the day was warm, he kept the hood of his cloak up so that Edér, walking at the back of the group where he could watch them all, deduced little from his body language or expressions. He spoke seldom, and mostly in response to Vi’s infrequent questions. He followed her instructions without question or hesitation. Anselm seemed to be on his best behavior, and this only made Edér all the more suspicious. He whiled away the hours, whenever Yolotli or Audie had paused to think of more questions, by imagining malcachoa slipped into Anselm’s tea, lizards slipped into his bedroll, and the like. Until a significant look from Vi made Edér think that she had guessed the nature of his thoughts and would have none of it. So he subsided, doing his best to ignore the interloper.

And then, late the next morning, they reached Dyrford. Vi led the way through the village amidst the stares of townsfolk who first glared at the sight of five orlans, then, recognizing the Watcher of Caed Nua among them, changed their demeanor entirely. They might be unaware how great a role Violet had had in the ending of Waidwen’s Legacy, but they knew how much she had helped in their lesser complaints. A gauntlet of smiles and greetings shepherded them through the town. They stopped off at the Dracogen Inn to quench the thirst of the long road and to observe the locals, as a prelude to a more focused inquiry and investigation. As far as Edér could tell, the mood of the village was no different than usual. The poisonings had affected only a few families thus far, miles out from the village on the outlying farms. In Dyrford Village, life went on as usual. With any luck, Vi would have the problem solved quickly enough that that need not change.

Refreshed, the party continued their march out to the first of the farms. Wilfrith Gjegricg, Edér’s employer, played host every Godandag to a small gathering of Eothasians in his cellars -- or rather, in the catacombs adjoining them. Like so much of Dyrford Village and its outlying lands, the Gjegricg farm was built partly atop and among the ruins of settlers from ages ago, and a warren of underground tunnels and neatly bricked hallways, not unlike those beneath Caed Nua, or more like those once used by the cult of Skaen operating in Dyrford, could be accessed through a hidden door in the farmhouse’s underground pantry. Gjegricg had set up a neat little round chamber not far from his cellar with the altar and candles and all that Eothasian ritual required. When Edér had first introduced him to Violet, bona fide priest of the shattered god, and she had honored him with rites to consecrate his little chapel, Gjegricg had wept for joy and then obliged them to feast till they could barely move on the firstfruits of his farm.

Now, as they approached the farmhouse, they heard the reverberating chunk-and-clatter of an axe splitting logs. The other orlans hung back as Violet and Edér walked up to the gate. At Edér’s holler, the farmer himself emerged from around the side of the house, stripped to the waist and wiping from his brow the sweat of his labor. Gjegricg was a big man, portly but well muscled from years of honest labor. He beamed to see the party approaching. “Ah, Edér! It’s good to see you back, lad. And milady!” He sketched a clumsy bow toward Violet.

“None of that, Wilfrith,” she insisted, flustered.

“Well, it’s always good to see you, Miz Violet,” Gjegricg amended. “Especially in these troubled times.”

“That’s what we’re here about, of course,” Violet continued. “I intend to get to the bottom of these poisonings.”

“Be appreciative if you can, Miz Violet. ‘Twas a lean enough winter already. My family, we’ll manage and with enough to spare for the others as was hardest hit, but it’ll be trouble if this keeps going on.”

“Of course,” Violet said. “Now, I wonder if we might take a look at the pig-sty? I understand it was your pigs targeted first?”

“Just so,” Gjegricg nodded, beckoning them toward the small shelter off in the corner of the yard, with a fenced-in run now quite empty of the animals normally to be found in it. His eyes widened as Violet’s companions caught up to her. “Well, I’ll be...How many o’ ye are there?”

“Here?” Violet asked, deadpan. “Or in general?” At Edér’s chuckle, she shook her head. “Never mind. Wilfrith, these are family and...an acquaintance of mine, from back home in Ixamitl. My sisters, Audrisa and Yolotli; my brother Xipil; and this is Anselm. We thought it best to bring a few people to help in the investigation, and it so happened they recently came to visit me.”

Gjegricg nodded at the orlans. “A friend or kin o’ Miz Violet is a friend o’ mine. Apologies if I, ah, seem rude or anything. Never seen so many orlans at once.”

“You should see Caed Nua,” Violet said, still deadpan, and turned toward the empty pig-sty. A human boy of some twelve or thirteen years was currently coming out of the little pig-house, wearing a scowl and hoisting a bucket of soapy but now filthy water. “Eadric,” Violet favored him with a smile. “Helping your father clean up?”

Eadric grumbled something under his breath. Gjegricg cleared his throat. “Now, son,” he began. “Be gracious. The priest’s here to help get to the bottom of this.”

More audibly this time, Eadric grumbled a “Sorry,” then shuffled past them toward the house.

Gjegricg sighed as he watched the boy go. “I won’t ask ye to excuse him, Miz Violet,” he said. “But Eadric’s just not been the same since this all began. Well, really, since a week or so before. He got into a bit of a scrape, wandering into the ruins with some friends o’ his. Scared him right shitless, and more’s the better for that if it keeps him outta that sort o’ trouble. Thought he’d be over it by now, but then the pigs died and he’s had to help me deal with all that, especially with Edér off to fetch you.”

Edér chuckled. “So I’m missing out on scrubbing out the pig-sty? Courier work has its appeal, for sure.”

Their orlan companions had taken Eadric’s place inside the pig-sty while Violet and Edér spoke with the farmer. Poking her head out and brushing hair from her eyes, Audie frowned at them. “Vi, I hope all this cleaning hasn’t erased evidence we could have used.”

Gjegricg blanched at her words. “Oh, no, I -- do ye think so? Gods, I hadn’t thought o’ that. It’s just, you see, we wanted to bring in new pigs soon as we could, and I didn’t think it’d be safe to keep ‘em in the same pen if’n some trace of the poison was still around. Been scrubbing the sty and replacing the top soil in the run for days now. Rumbald’s sending up a few of his herd tomorrow and we’ve got to have the place ready.”

“Quite understandable,” Violet soothed. “If any evidence has been washed away, I suppose there’s nothing for it now. We’ll see what we can find all the same. You inspected their trough, I’m sure?”

“Aye, and saved what was left o’ their slop.”

“We’ll take a look at that,” Violet nodded. “What about the trough itself?”

“Planned to burn it,” Gjegricg said, brightening, “but hadn’t got around to that yet. Think you’d learn anything from it?”

Violet smiled. “Let’s go and find out.”

While Violet was inspecting the trough -- still filthy with the remains of the pigs’ slop from their fateful last day -- Anselm approached. She glanced up and restrained herself from reacting, managing only a bland smile. But it seemed her once-betrothed was all business at the moment. He ran a finger thoughtfully along the trough’s wooden edges. “Safe to assume this was where the poison was introduced?” he asked.

“Seems likely,” Violet nodded. “There’s an alchemist in the village. We’ll see if she can identify anything poisonous in the leftovers.”

“Excellent,” Anselm nodded, swiping a film of grease from the inside of the trough and holding it to his nose with a critical expression.

“Careful,” Violet said. “Could still retain the poison.”

“I’m not planning to eat it,” he huffed. “I’d say it certainly smells off, but I have a feeling it would do so even without being poisoned.”

Violet laughed despite herself. Seeing the hungry and hopeful look kindled in Anselm’s eyes at her reaction, she reined it in and stepped back from the trough. “Guess the pigs never knew the difference, then.”

Tucking a jar of the suspect slop into a pouch, Violet led the way to the next farm. Bannen Uescwyn raised sheep, or had until recently. While the mysterious poisoner had targeted only the pigs on the Gjegricg farm, leaving behind perfectly healthy cattle as well as the crops, Uescwyn’s entire flock of sheep, all of his livelihood, had been slain. Even his faithful old sheepdog had fallen stone-dead after crawling back to his master with a whine of mortal distress to alert him to the flock lying poisoned in the pasture.

“Folk’re looking after us,” Uescwyn assured Violet when she expressed her sympathies. “Even with the church abandoned all these years, Eothas’ folk take care of our own. Gjegricg’s offered me work till I get back on me own feet, even after he lost his pigs too. I’m appreciative, but I do miss me lambs.”

“Of course,” Violet said. “Any idea how they were poisoned? Do they eat from a common manger, or any such thing?”

“Oh, nay, m’lady,” said Uescwyn. “They graze in the pasture and I water ‘em in the stream.”

So the party marched out to inspect the pasture and the stream. They combed the long grasses for hours without any sign of the poison. Violet was about ready to admit the pointlessness of their search when Xipil’s hound sent up a howl from a far corner of the pasture. Xipil caught up with Yaotl, bent to inspect the ground, and then waved frantically to the rest of the party.

Violet reached her brother two steps before Edér and two steps after Anselm. Xipil shrugged at her as Anselm bent to pick up what Yaotl had found: a handful of small, red berries.

Violet leaned in for a closer look. “Wait,” she said. “These look familiar. Edér? These aren’t native to the Dyrwood, are they?”

Edér crouched down to orlan level to join the inspection. “Mm. Nah, nothing like that grows ‘round here. But -- no, I got it. We’ve seen ‘em before, out in the White March, Vi.”

“Ah!” Violet brightened. “I knew they were familiar. Rin- Ryg-”

“Ryngr berries!” Yolotli corrected her, brightening as she saw an opportunity to put her research to use. “I read about them. They’re very hardy, so I’m not surprised you saw them in the White March. Not necessarily poisonous, but very bitter, and toxic in large quantities.”

“Toxic enough to kill off a whole flock of sheep?” Violet wondered.

“Something was enough,” Anselm pointed out, slipping the berries into his own pouch and frowning as he glanced back in the direction they had come, toward the Gjegricg farm. “Perhaps your alchemist will be able to identify if the pigs’ feed contained traces of these.”

“However many it’d take to kill off sheep,” Edér said, frowning at Anselm’s pouch of murderous berries, “those didn’t grow here naturally. Maybe our culprit’s recently come from the White March.”

Yolotli thought for a moment, then gasped. “I remember now. They’re used in dye -- red dye from the red berries.”

Violet exchanged a look with Edér. “Maybe we’ll have to pay the currier a visit after the alchemist.”

Before any visits to Dyrford Village, however, they had one more farm to investigate. According to the letters, Osgar Heafric had lost half his cattle, including a dozen new calves, to the poison. But as they were marching the last mile from the sheep pastures to Heafric’s farm, Xipil, now walking at the front of the group, suddenly stopped and looked around. The rest of them stopped to watch him. Audie started to speak, but Xipil put a finger to his mouth -- and then a hand to his bow, with a whisper of “Ambush!”

And he was right. No sooner had he put an arrow to his bowstring, while the rest of the party scrambled for their own weapons, than a whoosh familiar to Violet and Edér after months spent traveling with a wizard alerted them to the fireball moments before it impacted. “Take cover!” Vi shouted, and the party scattered towards the edges of the road, but too late: though they evaded the worst of the sudden explosion, every one of them suffered some burns. Then the attackers were upon them. Besides whoever had cast that fireball, two thugs with swords bore down upon them and a hail of arrows flew in from both sides of the road.

Violet kept near the center of her party, quckly calling on the power of her faith to shield her allies from the brunt of the attack and to refresh them after the initial damage. Edér waded into the fray, catching arrows on his shield and keeping the attackers away from the orlans. At least -- most of the orlans. While Yolotli began chanting an invocation and Xipil took aim against a distant archer, Audie slipped into the shadows, only to reappear behind the thug Edér was now dealing with, her knives buried convincingly in the man’s sides. And Anselm drew his heirloom sword and stepped right up beside Edér, timing his strikes to coordinate surprisingly well with their human ally’s. Violet gasped, momentarily pausing in her own battle prayers, to see the eerie purple light that coalesced around Anselm’s blade. After that, however, it came as no surprise when one of the enemy archers suddenly turned his arrows on his own allies, while Anselm grimaced in concentration, until finally the charmed archer was the last of the attackers left standing and one of Audie’s knives finished him off.

They made camp after that. The battle had not lasted all that long, but had left them in need of rest and recovery. Xipil scouted out a clearing within the woods not far from the road, safe from prying eyes at least for a moment. Edér dragged the bodies of their foes out of the road, to be searched and disposed of once the needs of the living were seen to. Violet went around tending to the worst of her companions’ wounds. Besides the burns from that opening fireball, they were in fairly decent shape. Edér was fine, of course; he rarely needed her attentions after a fight, but she made sure he rubbed some salve on the burns nonetheless. Audie and Xipil had some minor scratches and bruises, which they insisted on tending to themselves, pointing her to their sister Yolotli, grazed by an arrow that left a deep gouge in her cheek and one ear. The poor girl seemed much more distraught about the braid it had sliced off in the process, but bore Violet’s ministrations with good cheer all the same.

And then Violet came to Anselm. Remorse for having put off dealing with him till the last struck her at the sight of blood oozing between his fingers as he clasped a hand to his side.

“You’re hurt!” she gasped. “I mean, seriously hurt!”

“A little,” he admitted with a hesitant smile.

“If you’re trying to impress me with heroics, you can stop right now,” she scolded, motioning him to sit down on a nearby rock so she could take a look at the wound.

Anselm gave a rueful laugh, then winced as she started cleaning the wound. “I promise, that was not my intention. That...could have gone better.”

“Could’ve gone much worse, too,” Violet said. “Seems we...we all make a pretty good team.”

“Thank you, Violet,” he said quietly, “for including me on it.”

“Keep getting hurt like this and you’ll stop thanking me,” she said with forced cheer. “Also. That soul whip…”

Anselm blanched. “Ah. You noticed.”

“You charmed an archer, too.”

“It was necessary. He was the one that shot Yolotli.”

“No argument here. It was well done, Anselm. Been a while since I traveled with a cipher, but I know the signs. And I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. It explains so much. Why didn’t you tell me you were a cipher to begin with?”

Anselm’s gaze fell. “I...had hoped not to let that fact color your judgment of me. Most people are not very trusting of my kind.”

Violet shrugged. “Same goes for Watchers, in these parts. Garivald was right about you making yourself useful on this expedition, though. I owe you an apology.”

Anselm regarded her hopefully. “For…?”

“Gar was so evasive about just what your ‘useful skills’ were, I figured they just weren’t all that useful at all. I suppose he didn’t want this coloring my judgment, either.”

“Just so.” Anselm nodded. “Whatever he thinks of me, he would like to see you back home with the clan in the life your parents planned for you.”

Violet narrowed her eyes as she finished binding his wound. “Garivald is hoping that if I marry you I’ll come back to Ixamitl?”

“In Garivald’s mind,” Anselm said, “one duty leads to another.”

“Are you saying that as a cipher?” Violet grinned. “Or just as someone who knows him well? Because that is exactly how Gar’s mind works.”

Anselm shook his head. “As one who knows him. I would not presume, nor wish, to delve too deeply into your brother’s mind.”

Violet grew still and quiet for a moment, then moved to crouch directly in front of her patient, meeting his gaze directly and catching his hands in a firm grip. “And what about my mind? Do you intend to win me back by bending my soul to your will?”

“No,” Anselm said immediately, fervently, holding her gaze. “I promise you, I will have you by your own will or none at all. Although, while I will not attempt to charm you as a cipher, I certainly hope to charm you as a man.” And for a moment, the subdued, on-his-best-behavior mask gave way to a mad grin that almost reminded her of the Anselm she had once been pleased to be betrothed to. Almost.

“Hm,” Violet huffed, standing and starting toward the bodies in need of searching. “Well, don’t expect much. And stop it with the heroics,” she flung back over her shoulder. “Can’t marry a dead man.”

Finding no hint on the bodies of their motive or employer, they set fire to them and finally moved on toward the farm. The smell of fresh manure soon alerted them to the proximity of their destination. Edér chuckled at the visiting orlans’ expressions. “Welcome to the country, everyone!” he said, arms spread wide.

“Maybe they poisoned them for the smell,” Audie grumbled.

“Counterproductive,” Edér argued. “Corpses would smell even worse.”

Osgar Heafric, a wiry man missing most of his hair and a few teeth, glumly showed them his dairy barn, now nearly empty. A few cows stood ready for milking, though Violet wondered if even the surviving cows’ milk might still be contaminated by the poison. Out in his pastures, another ten or so cows remained, bereft of their calves.

“Lucky so many of the girls survived,” Heafric shrugged. “I’ll get by. Bull’s fine, too, or s’pose I’d have to ask Gjegricg for the loan of his.”

Violet asked the usual questions about the animals’ food and water supplies and left with a sample of the hay the cattle fed on to supplement what they could graze at pasture and another of recently collected milk, in case the poison were indeed still in the cows’ systems. Full of questions, and clues for Hendyna to interpret, the weary party finally made their way back to Dyrford Village and the comforts of Dracogen Inn.

In the middle of the night, Edér woke suddenly to the silence of the room he shared with Anselm and Xipil, the memory of whatever sound had wakened him already fading. The orlans still slept soundly while Edér crept to the door and peeked out into the hall.

Violet was looking back at him from the door of the room she shared with her sisters, wide-eyed and fresh from bed herself, judging by the tousled mess of her hair. Edér grinned at her and whispered, “You hear that too?”

“I heard something,” she whispered back. “Someone was at the door, I think.”

“Think our poisoner came to confess?”

“That’d be nice,” she sighed. With a glance back into the room where her sisters were presumably still as sound asleep as the male orlans, she stepped out into the hall and sat down against the wall between their doors. Edér joined her. They sat in silence for several minutes, watching both ends of the hall for movement, listening for any sound of their supposed intruder. But the night remained still.

“Guess whoever it was heard us get up and chickened out,” Edér whispered.

“Guess so. We’ll catch them in the morning, though.”

“Hey, Vi,” Edér said before she could get up again. “You, ah...you all right?”

“Me?” She looked at him, wrinkling her brow in question.

“Famly’s one thing, on a job like this, but Anselm’s not giving you trouble, is he? If he is, you just say the word…”

“Oh, that,” Vi chuckled quietly. “No, Edér, it’s fine. He’s...being a perfect gentleman. Not as I remember him, but it’s a change I could get used to.” Edér shifted in his seat at that; Vi looked over at him as the implication of her words suddenly hit her. “Not like that! I mean...I’ve made it clear, I hope, that his suit is pointless. But still. It’s nice to see that he’s not quite as vile as I remembered.”

“Think he’s really changed that much?” Edér asked. “Or just showing you what you want to see?”

Vi shrugged. “I think he’ll have plenty of opportunity to prove himself one way or another on this trip. And so far, I’m...pleasantly surprised.”

“Well,” Edér said, reaching over to pat her hand encouragingly, “if that changes, if you have any problems with him, I’ve got your back, Vi.”

“I know, dear,” she smiled up at him. “I know.”

[jahmusicandlive]

Latitude 2017

On the 24th April I moved back home from uni halls with the intention of finally spending over a month at home with my friends and family before going off to Reading in August. By the 25th I had been asked if I wanted to intern at Latitude starting as soon as possible, so four days later I was on the Latitude site ready to start another internship with Festival Republic, this time doing licensing.

Half of me felt more comfortable this time as I had already interned with FR and knew how the operation worked a little better, however half of me felt more nervous as there were a number of people on site who I had already met at Download, but I didn’t know the other interns as they were from another uni (unlike at Download where they were both doing the same course as me at the same uni). I had also just completed my licensing module at uni and so I had a little prior knowledge to build on but still wasn’t too sure what to expect.

The licensing cabin was on the other side of the site to production and the other offices, so until security control came in it was very quiet and quite excluded from the mania of production, which should be a good thing but personally I love the madness and when I’m in a quiet environment I tend to find it more difficult to focus. Everyone in the office was absolutely lovely once again and I settled in fairly quickly. This time I also had my own desk, phone, FR email, etc. and started to feel more like an employee than an intern (though of course I was still an intern).

My responsibilities included signage, catering tickets and keeping on top of documents like the contact sheet. As well as this I was also helping others in the team complete their responsibilities. The catering tickets were familiar and I was comfortable completing that task, however when it came to signage that was a different story.

At Latitude all of the signage to do with directions and locations was all hand painted and completed by people specifically there to do that job, however any signage to do with rules or guidelines e.g challenge 25, no smoking, banned items etc. had to be printed, laminated and put up by licensing (aka me). At first the job seemed fairly straightforward, there was already a spreadsheet from the previous year that I simply needed to go off alter slightly. After about 3 or 4 days of non stop printing and laminating it was starting to become a bit tedious and the laminators obviously thought so too as they started smoking and had to be fixed. At this point I couldn’t wait to get out of the office and put the signage up in the gorgeous sunshine.

I finally finished the signage and was ready to start putting it up. The first day was great, Robbie and I went out and did all of the signage for the wristband exchange gates.

The next day was stormy with thunder, lightning and a lot of rain and I was off out to put up signage on my own. The only flaw in this plan was that in spite of having a map I didn’t actually know where the locations were, and once finally at a location I didn’t know exactly where the signs were meant to go. This slowed down the process a lot but I carried on and thought it was still on track.

The next day the weather was terrible once again and I went out on my own once again. I got to one of the first locations and one of the bosses came and told me I couldn’t drive on the grass because of the rain (understandably) but about 2 minutes after he left it set in that I was going to have to walk around the entire site in the storm with all these signs, cable ties, a hole puncher, a staple gun and scissors on my own. I got myself into a little bit of a state as I suddenly worried that it wouldn't get done in time and since it was my responsibility it would be on me and because I was trying to make the best impression possible it really got me stressed. In no time at all Laura and Robbie both came to my rescue and we all walked round together and did the same the next day.

I think it’s safe to say we all underestimated the signage but we completed it and I definitely appreciated the team around me more than anything else at that point. The fact that they instantly helped and treated it as their own problem as well not just mine made everything so much less stressful and I fully felt a part of a team.

By the time all of the signage was up show days had managed to creep up on us and all of my responsibilities had been completed so for me it was a question of helping the rest of the team and responding to anything as it happened. 

Having been given two guest tickets my mum and sister were able to come up and enjoy the festival so in my off time I was able to wander round the festival with them which was lovely after a few stressful days. I also got to see Jack Garratt live which was INSANE and would fully recommend seeing him live to any one that gets the chance.

All in all Latitude was a completely different experience to Download, both within work and the social aspect outside of work (there was a fire with sofas around it at crew camp) and the knowledge I gained was invaluable. Shout out my “Lat Lic”  team, genuinely amazing people.

Next stop: Reading Festival.

[rachelcarsoncenter]

(Adventures in Stavanger, Part 1)

In this mini series you can read about the experiences of Johanna Felber and Malin Klinski, candidates of the RCC’s Environmental Studies Certificate program, during an exchange program with the University of Stavanger in Norway. If you want to find out more about life in the land of the midnight sun, trolls, and vikings, you are in the right place... 

By Johanna Felber and Malin Klinski

Stavanger is a place of contradictions. The fourth largest city of Norway is situated on the southwestern coastline. Depending on who you ask, you will hear quite different stories about the place. Some might talk about Stavanger as being Norway’s (or even Europe’s) petroleum capital. The big-oil resources have not only helped the city of Stavanger to accumulate wealth – they are also a symbol of the nation’s global economic importance. As recently as January 2020, the Norwegian government officially opened a new giant oil field, 140 kilometers off the shore of Stavanger. It is estimated to generate a maximum turnover of US $100 billion. Norway itself obtains its energy mostly from renewable sources, especially wind- and hydropower. Stavanger’s oil and gas are mainly export goods.

The other side of Stavanger is more in line with the picturesque face of the city. Countless ships still sail towards the old port; tiny wooden houses (often white, sometimes colorful like in the “color alley”), narrow streets, the fish market, and cobblestones make up the charm of the gamle (old town). Less well known is the impressive variety of street art, which can be discovered when wandering about.

The fjords around Stavanger are passageways to many of the smaller islands situated close to the shore. The best way to experience Stavanger’s natural beauty is going outdoors and exploring the landscapes surrounding the town. Once you stand on a rocky mountain overlooking the region, you realize how tales of trolls found their way into Norwegian folk tales.

Photo by the authors.

Fun Fact: Norwegians have a lot of words to describe weather, that don’t exist in the English language. Oppholdsvær, for example, means cloudy weather without rainfall, meaning great weather to go out into nature!

  On the Road

Our Stavanger adventure started in Munich. We drove up to Stavanger with Hanna’s red camping bus. It is like a little house, with a bed, a cooking stove and, most importantly in Norway, a heater. Hanna even sewed curtains to cover the windows and keep out the cold. Our journey led us to Hamburg, Aarhus, a beach on the very northern rim of Denmark, Hirtshals, and then to a small lake between Kristiansand and Stavanger, before we finally arrived on the university campus.

Malin lives in a student dormitory, just outside the main building of the University, and she was able to move in as soon as we arrived on campus. Hanna resides in a shared flat closer to the city center, from where she can cycle up the hill to the university. On a sunny day you can see quite far, right out to sea. Getting into town from the university by bike takes 30 minutes, up and down steep roads.

Beach in north Denmark

First morning in Norway, at a lake

  The University

Our courses at the University of Stavanger (UiS) are all connected to the local Master’s in Energy, Environment and Society – an interdisciplinary program. The focus is mainly on environmental and energy politics from a global, comparative perspective. The entire interior design of the university is cozy and thought through. From light installations to plant pots, cushions, colourful wallpapers, fluffy carpets and artistic paintings – Norwegians know how to make spending a lot of time indoors bearable. This is quite important when you can’t leave the house for a short stroll because the wind is howling relentlessly and the rain splashing mercilessly against the windowsills. The Norwegian weather forecast’s website is called yr.no, which means something like “drizzling rain.”

The university library is more of an open, creative space. You can find rocking chairs, beanbags and hammock-pergolas. You are allowed to play games, speak loudly and bring your own food. When we first visited the library and a housemate of Malin’s waved and shouted, “What’s up?” through the hall, we winced in unison. Even though it felt a little weird in the beginning, we quickly adapted to the local habits – and brought some cinnamon buns and tea into the library while discussing the first paper we had to submit.

One of the reasons we have decided to come to Stavanger is the Greenhouse at UiS. Dolly and Finn Arne Jørgensen, two researchers in the field of environmental history, initiated this platform for sharing research, developing ideas and projects, and discussing environmental topics. A couple of professors and PhD candidates join them in the weekly Greenhouse Lunch, where current themes and activities are shared, planned, and promoted. We have also been there once and were heartily welcomed to the group. Unfortunately, the lunch is coinciding with one of our seminars, but we will join them again soon for other events, in a second installation in this miniseries, will keep you updated about what the environmentalists here are thinking and working on.

No, these pictures don’t show a fancy hipster café – it is the university library

  Exploring Nature

Until now, we have tried to get outside as much as possible. Stavanger’s surroundings offer countless possibilities for experiencing nature. We both became members of the UiS friluftsliv group (outdoor sport group), which organizes all kinds of outdoor activities. Most of the hikes in the area are easily accessible by public transport, with some entailing underwater tunnel rides and ferry cruises. It is definitely worth visiting the Vigdel beach, close to Sola. We wandered on wooden planks through pliant dunes, climbed over rugged, craggy cliffs, and saw a rainbow appearing from the depths of the stormy sea. Moreover, it is an excellent spot to have a picnic and eat homemade cinnamon rolls with loads of confectioner’s sugar. Another nice tour is taking the public bus to the island of Rennesøy and wandering along the steep cliff towards the mountain range. It really is an adventure path and no matter where you go, it is impossible not to take dozens of breaks to admire the view. With the friluftsliv group we went on two different hiking trips that both ended with a bonfire. We grilled marshmallows and roasted home-made bread dough on sticks over the flames.

  On another weekend trip we joined some members of the friluftsliv group on a ski tour with the Norwegian mountain club DNT in the region of Sirdal, about two hours drive from Stavanger. We didn’t really know what we signed up for, as the tour was a mixture of slalom, cross country skiing, and snowshoe hiking. The scenery was beautiful, it was an experience we wouldn’t have wanted to miss, but we still found ourselves with incredible muscle aches on Monday morning.

One of the most popular leisure activities in Norway is spending time in cabins. We slept in two different cabins on our ski trip, and learned that there are quite some things to be aware of when signing up for such overnight stays. After eight hours of tour-skiing through the snowy mountains on just the first day, we finally arrived at our cabin.

We felt like doing nothing more than falling into one of the bunk beds and closing our eyes. But two Norwegians girls still had enough motivation to take off all their skiing equipment, run down the hill, and jump into the icy water of the river running by. Malin decided to join in the experience. The water was so incredibly cold that you couldn’t even feel it anymore. It is a miracle how the body still manages to function in these temperatures.

Compared to this experience, lugging the water buckets from that same river back up to the fireplace was a rather relaxing task. After so much physical activity and fresh air we were really hungry, and nothing on earth could taste better than pasta with tomato sauce then. With a heavy woolen blanket thrown around our shoulders and the dim light of the candles (which were lighted to save electricity) the evening was made even more cozy. We played cards and told stories about our favorite hiking trips. One thing we learned from that skiing trip in Sirdal was that the further you are away from a proper road, internet connection, and running water, the more hyggelig it gets!

The word hyggelig can mean a lot of different things. It translates to pleasant, good, nice, secure, intimate, snug, and comfortable. It describes a feeling or impression – if you find yourself sitting content, tired but warm, at a fireplace after a long day, you will know what it really is about.

  The way to the heart is through the stomach

Food is very expensive in Norway. This is a fact. A bowl of simple green salad costs 7 euros in the university cafeteria. The only way around this is making your own food, and being creative. The 20 people that share the kitchen in Malin’s student dormitory come from 15 different countries. Since arriving, we have cooked many different dishes from various regions of the world in this kitchen. We made huge amounts of hummus and falafel and spent hours rolling sushi. One day we prepared pizza dough and tiramisu for the entire house, with instructions from Jacopo, an Italian student from Milan. The more people share the food you cook, the more affordable it becomes.

We even joined in the International Food Festival of the university. Teams received 40 euros to buy groceries and cook traditional food from their country. The winning team receives vouchers for the cafeteria. Unfortunately, we didn’t win – competing with countries like India, Vietnam, and Mexico, we were hard challenged from the outset! In the end, the winner was South Korea.  We made Semmelknödel and Scheiterhaufen –  spinach and parsley dumpling with creamy mushroom sauce, and a sweet dessert made from old bread, milk, cinnamon, apples, berries and loads of sugar. We had a lot of fun and more people than we expected complimented our food.

Team Germany – not expecting to win, but still in a good mood. Hanna, David, Malin, and Kevin are posing for the team photo. David and Kevin study sport science.

Despite the often non-existent sunshine, we really enjoyed our first month in Stavanger. A lot of things are still on our bucket list for the next months, so we will surely not get bored. One of the most important things is learning Norwegian, which will hopefully give us the chance to dive deeper into the culture. We will share our experiences in snakke norsk med nordmanner and everything else that left us sometimes clueless, sometimes smiling, during our exchange in Stavanger in our next blog post.

Opplevelser I Stavanger (Adventures in Stavanger, Part 1) In this mini series you can read about the experiences of…

[suzannemcappsca]

Of Superheroes, Mere Mortals and Saving the World (with and by Josiah Lau)

Joel Lee

National University of Singapore, Faculty of Law

I have a confession to make. I generally do my best to be positive and optimistic. In part because it’s good for my physical and mental health but also because I know that my outlook affects the people around me; my family, my friends and my students. But it is not always easy. Some days, I don’t feel like being positive. Sometimes, it feels like the world around you is so overwhelming in its negativity that one’s small drop of positiveness in that ocean of negativity is insignificant. Sometimes, it feels like that world is taking your positive energy but giving nothing back, leaving one’s soul empty and in despair. And the end of 2016 felt like one of those times.

And from time to time, something happens or something you read restores and recharges you. John Sturrock’s entry for this month is an example of this (and if you haven’t read it, what are you waiting for?). I want to devote this month’s entry to another piece I recently read which too was restorative. This was published on Facebook and written by a former student of mine, Josiah Lau, who took a conflict resolution workshop with me at the Faculty of Law.

In his piece, his thoughts resonated with the sentiments I had expressed in my entry for December 2016 “Peacing Things Together“. I considered using this month’s entry to comment on his piece but it quickly became clear that there was no way I could improve upon his message. Further, not everyone would be able to access his note on Facebook to read. So, I decided to reproduce his note (with his permission) in its entirety in the hope that readers would be similarly inspired.

I give you Josiah Lau’s “Of Superheroes, Mere Mortals and Saving the World”

Ever wondered why superpowers in popular media are almost always simple and somewhat “one-dimensional”?

Super strength. STRONK. LAIK RASHAN BEAR. Super speed. Wheeeeeeeeeeee Flight. Wheeeeeeeeeeee Time manipulation. FF. FR. STOP. PLAY. REPLAY Precognition. 4sightFTW. Mind-reading/control. (*insert Yuri voiceover*) Your thoughts… are mine. Regeneration. “Death is my bitch.” Fire manipulation. WE DIDN’T START THE FIRE Ice manipulation. Let it go, let it go…

Ever wondered why we don’t see superheroes with the following superpowers?

1. Emotional management/mastery 2. Conflict resolution 3. Analysis, problem-solving 4. Listening & empathy 5. Balance & decision-making

WAIT WHAT!? THESE POWERS ARE TOO COMPLICATED.

Who in the world would pay money to watch a movie about people peaceably resolving conflicts to the mutual satisfaction of hostile parties? (I wager the only reason people watch 12 Angry Men today is because they’re MADE to, usually in school curriculum).

Everybody wants drama, action, cool CGI. (“The Incredible Hulk”, for example, was a smashing movie.)

Super strength sells. Conscious exercise of intelligence, keen observation, analytical skills and critical thinking doesn’t. (Unless it’s Benedict Cumberbatch, apparently.) Keeping your cool and responding patiently to emotional outbursts, injustice, abuse, or unreasonable demands doesn’t sell. Ice manipulation does.

Maybe we think of superpowers the way we do because such abilities are considered impossible or beyond human limits. Or perhaps, because such abilities are desired in order to solve problems in life. Super strength, super speed, time manipulation.

Think about it for a moment, then. Aren’t the “perfect iterations” of emotional mastery, conflict resolution, critical thinking etc equally unattainable? None of us can claim to be complete masters of ourselves. Nobody can claim to be the perfect peacemaker. And yet, compared to adamantium-lined skeletons and amplified regeneration, these powers (that we so admire in great leaders, thinkers and influencers) are far more attainable for us mere mortals.

We would rather deify impossible/unattainable abilities than abilities attainable only through great effort.

Here’s an excerpt of an interview with Emotionalmasterman: “Oh you have a superpower? What’s your superpower?” “I’m very good at managing my emotions.” “That’s not a very useful superpower, is it?” “Well, I’m at peace within myself, I don’t inflict my emotional problems upon others, people are always comfortable around me and come to me with problems which I try to help them work through.” “Isn’t that very complicated and hard to do? Most can only dream of it.” “Well, it’s my superpower. I was born with it. It just comes naturally to me.” “I don’t suppose you could write a self-help book about it, could you?” “I can’t. You can’t ask Superman to write a book teaching people how to fly, right?”

Years ago, I made a survey for fun, asking friends what superpower they thought I would choose if I was able to pick one. The most common (and expected) answers were super speed and time manipulation.

One, however, was mind-reading/telepathy, which struck me as a rather strange answer. Moreover, it came from a good friend, who provided this quote with it:

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

It was only after many years and through many personal struggles that I began to understand the significance of the quote.

Today, I wish for only two superpowers.

1. Empathy

No, not just being able to put oneself in another’s shoes and feel what they feel. (In any case, one can never fully do that.) I also don’t want to simply read someone’s mind. I do, however, want the ability to be able to sense that things aren’t what they seem or what the person says they are. I want the ability to know if I should ask questions or talk, and if so, what is the most beneficial thing to ask or say at any point in time. I want the ability to be able to engage wisely yet warmly. I want to understand them and their circumstances better, that my ‘empathy’ may be closer to complete, closer to actually putting myself in their shoes, seeing more of what they see and feeling more of what they feel. I want to be approachable so people are comfortable with opening up to me. I want the ability to talk to people on both sides of a conflict and understand their concerns, their interests and motivations, their inner struggles and hurt, and yet not let that colour my perceptions against the other side.

2. Decision-making

I’ve preached the importance of context for a long time. I strongly believe there are differing actions appropriate to different circumstances. Empathy and understanding is the start but decision and action must be built on this foundation. Give me the ability to make wise decisions. Whether to intervene, and whether to do it now, or later; whether, knowing certain things, to choose action A or B; whether, feeling someone’s pain, to give time to let the pain pass or to support the person in moving beyond it. To be creative about solutions and resolutions, to see past false dichotomies and closed options. To take in the full range of contextual factors and yet not be overwhelmed; to be disciplined and thorough in thinking matters through, to weigh options; to dare to decide and act even if the decision is painful and the course of action intimidating.

The superhero narrative almost invariably comes with the attempt to ‘save the world’. In the vast majority of stories, heroes find that they are constrained by limitations both external and internal, no matter how extraordinary or legion their superpowers (hello Peter Petrelli). No, superheroes aren’t perfect. They’re just like the rest of us. They have emotions like we do, and are just as susceptible to temptations and errors of judgment (except maybe Dr. Manhattan, who nevertheless has his own problems). The narrative usually follows how the hero deals with or surmounts these challenges.

We just love superhero stories. I’m no stranger to them.

And yet, I cannot but think that among the greatest of superheroes was one Guido Orefice, whose superpower was an impregnable cheerfulness and resoluteness in a concentration camp, who hid and kept his son alive – achieving his glorious victory (posthumously) when his son ecstatically found himself face to face with a tank – his promised reward. How about five kids, all superheroes: a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal, who awakened their superpowers together one day in detention and transcended their community-given identities?

Superheroes… they walk among us, invisible, unbeknownst to most. The young child who treks ten miles of dirt road to school every day and back. The single mom who moonlights to make ends meet, for her children’s sake. The man suffering from depression who wears a funny face every day to make others laugh. The lady juggling her taxing work and taking care of her parents and yet excelling at both. The teenager who forces herself out of bed in the morning despite anxiety, menstrual cramps and harassment, because things need doing. The father who puts on a suit every morning to take his daughter to school (even though he later does all sorts of manual labour) to preserve her self-value and dignity. This list has no end.

No superhero has “saved the world”. But they made (or tried to make) a difference wherever they are – nation, city, family, self – and that’s all it takes.

What superpower(s) do you wield? How can you wield it/them better? How can you gain or exercise more superpowers? Forget saving ‘the world’. What/whose world have you saved today?

More from our authors:

Essays on Mediation: Dealing with Disputes in the 21st Century by Ian Macduff (ed.) € 160

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from Updates By Suzanne http://kluwermediationblog.com/2017/01/12/of-superheroes-mere-mortals-and-saving-the-world-with-and-by-josiah-lau/