#the tower could be the volcanoes exploding/the beyond breaking

[wotb-blog-2024]

Idea: WoTB tarot cards

[chalcid]

6: Tea and Roses

It was Thursday afternoon. I sat on the window seat in the living room. Sunlight streamed from the window.

Tilly approached me carefully "What are you up to?"

I didn't answer. I could feel my mother, from another room, giving me the "that was rude look."

Tilly answered her own question "Nothing much?"

Truth be told, I was searching the digital libraries for information on powerful demon spells but I nodded anyways "Yeah, not doing too much."

"Okay, well, I'm going to pick up my kids, and I was wondering if you would come with me," Tilly asked.

I glanced at my phone, and then back at Tilly "I'd really rather not."

"Please," Tilly said.

I could feel the heat of my mother's gaze in the other room. Say yes. Be polite, Merika.

"Okay," I said, "I guess I'll come with."

Tilly's house was near the center of the island. It was an uncomfortably long drive. But finally, we pulled up in front of a wooden house, painted yellow, with a door sloppily attached.

Tilly knocked and the door swung open

On the other side of the door was a man with an impressive red beard "Ah. Tilly," he turned and shouted over his shoulder "Kids, your mother is here!

He turned back to us "Who's this?"

"Hi," I said awkwardly "I'm Merika. The... the, uh... You must be Tilly's husband?"

"Merika," Tilly's husband said "My son talks about you. I must admit, I thought you were just an imaginary friend."

"Oh?" I said.

"I mean, he thinks you're some kind of superhero," he rambled "Said you find lost treasures and everything."

I started to reply, but was cut off as the kids ran up to Tilly and hugged her quickly.

Lawrence, the ten-year-old boy, handed me two newspaper clips. "I cut these out for you," he told me.

I glanced at them. They were a small piece of every time I made the news this week apparently.

Kev, who was eight, let go of her mother and returned to her book.

"Did you guys have any homework," Tilly said, getting in the car "I hope you finished it all"

"Oh, I didn't do any yet" Lawrence said

"I told you you needed to turn off the cartoons," Kev muttered.

"But the huge lizards," Lawrence said. "Daxald says that he's too old for cartoons, so I gotta watch them all before I turn twelve. Merika, are there really big lizards in the Beyond?"

"Maybe," I said absently.

The rest of the ride home dissolved into more chatter about lizards, but I wasn't paying attention.

I stepped inside the house and set my newspaper clippings on the counter. Kev and Tilly headed for the living room, passing my mother briefly and exchanging icy yet civil nods.

Lawrence looked up at me through his mud-splattered glasses. "Dad said he and Mom are getting a divorce."

"Yeah, mine too," I said "Did they not talk about it with you?"

Lawrence shook his head solemnly. "Not until this morning. Do you think we'll all live here in this big house? You and Kev and me and Mom and Leo? "

He looked so hopeful. I didn't know how to tell him that Dad was going to move out with Tilly in a couple of months and we would likely never see each other after that.

"This is Mom's house," I said "My mom, not yours. Your mom and my dad will likely get their own big house, but no worries. I'm sure it will be just as cool."

"And you'll live there, too?" Lawrence pestered.

I was interrupted by a ceremonious knock on the door. I raced to get it, but Tilly was there. The door opened.

"I baked bread," Uncle Decimus said stiffly, shoving a basket of bread into Tilly's arms "As a gesture of non-hostility."

"Thank you," Tilly glanced down at the basket, bewildered.

"And Merika, this came by for you," Uncle Decimus passed me an envelope.

I ripped open the envelope. Inside was a pink piece of stationery with bold calligraphy.

"You're invited - Today at two - Tea Party..." I trailed off "Okay, anyone willing to give me a ride to the west part of the island? I've got to head toward Fragaria Tower."

It was difficult to say how old Fragaria Tower was. Legend says that Lord Beaurose had it dissambled when they were evacuating Mariveyia, brought over brick by brick, and reassembled when we got here. As a result, it stood out like a coral reef in a saltwater swamp.

"Do you want me to come in with you," Mom asked.

"Mom, I'm fine," I said. "This isn't my first tea party at Fragaria Tower."

"I'll pick you up in an hour," she replied.

"Bye, Mom."

She drove off alarmingly quick for someone who made a point of always obeying speed limits. I walked up to the door and knocked.

A twenty year old women answered the door and I did a double take "Eranthia invited me over... do I have the wrong address?"

She sighed "Do you think you have the wrong address?"

I glanced at the iconic tower "Point taken. I just wasn't aware that..."

She spared me the embarrassment of asking if she was my friend's stepmom "I'm Mr. Beaurose's assistant. Eranthia's in the tea room. The other one already arrive."

"Thank you, Mr. Beaurose's assistant ma'am," I replied awkwardly

She reached for my coat, and I reflexively jumped out of her reach, wrapping it around me a little tighter.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "It's my prized possession. I'll just..."

Like the horribly impolite person my mother would be ashamed to admit she took part in raising I am, I darted off to the tea room and took my spot at the small round table.

Edonia smiled politely at me "Hi, Merika. Glad you could make it."

Eranthia sat across from me, a grey blazer over her ruffled pink skirt. She sipped a cup of tea. My eyes darted from her to the harp in the corner.

Eranthia, like Edonia, was a string instrumental. Their families were pretty close. Edonia is a violinist, which is impressive, but Eranthia was a harpist. That's super rare. I think there are only sixteen people on Ilcodeux who have any kind of harp ability, and Eranthia and her teacher are the only two people I've heard of who've mastered it.

I feel really out of place with them sometimes, and it doesn't help that they're both so much larger than life that they don't even know how to person.

The tea tasted like flowers, which was strange, but not bad.

"Did you finish reading those articles?" Edonia asked me politely.

I choked on my tea "Um... yeah? About that. They sort of... burnt to a crisp?"

Edonia sighed "I can't say I'm surprised."

That felt better.

"I did talk to Deyanira, though, and she said that sometimes really powerful spells can mess up shark migration patterns," I said.

"I checked out a book for her the other day," Edonia snapped her fingers "Something about sharks?"

"Yeah, I saw her book, too. I don't want to assume the worst in her, but..." I trailed off. "I should stop this before it turns into trouble"

"You're troubling the stop by not waiting your turn " Eranthia offered, pulling a white queen chess piece from her pocket and studying it absently "Remember Acwellan?"

Hearing her name, Acwellan poked her head out of her teapot. Fortunately, that one wasn't the one our tea was poured from. I found the teapot in the Crystal Reef six months ago, not realizing that it had a tiny monster guardian.

"You're point? That situation was the opposite of this one and I learned from it. I figured out she was there pretty quickly, but I didn't deal with it until she magically flooded my bathroom and I had to clean it all up by hand. I had no magic for two days, and now she's yours."

"Your solution cost you a friend," Eranthia said confidently. "You responded too harshly. All Acwellan wanted was attention."

"I guess you're right," I replied reluctantly "But I'm not sure feeding Water Demons little cake crumbs and petting their heads is going to prevent a...  prevent a, um... You know a lot about weird, powerful magics. What could it be?"

"The three most likely things off the top of my head are" Eranthia paused to sip her tea "Summoning some sea monster, making a volcano explode, or," she paused, and glanced at Edonia "Taking the barrier down."

Edonia flinched. We pretended not to notice.

"This cake is excellent," I said quickly. "Strawberries ?"

"Raspberries, actually," Eranthia said, returning the chess piece to her pocket. "It's my favorite. Would you like the recipe?"

"Oh, no thank you, I can't cook," I said politely.

"Don't any of your parents cook?" Eranthia asked. "You have three, don't you? Four?"

"Just Mom and Dad," I said irritably "Plus Tilly and Uncle Decimus, but they don't count. Actually, Uncle Decimus likes cooking. He's no good, but maybe he'd appreciate the recipe."

"Come with me, and I'll copy it," Eranthia declared. She stood up, brushed off her fabulous pink skirt, and picked up Acwellan's teapot. The little sea monster grabbed a lock of her strawberry blond hair and gnawed at it.

"I've actually been trying to get you alone for a bit now," Eranthia admitted.

"Why did you invite Edonia then?"

"I wanted to talk to her, too," Eranthia paused "But not about this. She's scared of the Outside, and the barrier falling, and the pearls, just like everyone else."

"So..." I stopped. Don't make any assumptions "Look, I'm just trying to get through my next few weeks of being confined to land, the divorce, and Tilly's kids."

"And aren't you bored of all that?" Eranthia prodded "This is a chance to change the world, Merika. Don't you want to see what's beyond Ilcodeux?"

"Yes, more than anything, but..." I gestured at her father's desk. "The people in charge won't like that. And the destruction of the barrier isn't exactly something I could hide."

"Of course. But let's speak hypothetically here," Eranthia said. She pulled a yellowed piece of paper from her pocket "There are three ways the barrier could come down. First, it could fall on its own -"

"- In, like, twenty years, so we really don't need to be worrying about all this now -"

" - A liberal estimate, but yes, it's not going down anytime soon. The second is if a demon with royal blood magically takes them down. And the third is the pearls."

"Okay, so it's out of our hands unless we decide to break a few laws or find a would-be demon princess," I said "Thanks for the tea and cake and all, but I don't think I'm up to any of that."

"Of course," Eranthia said "I just thought it might interest you to know that I know where the pink pearl is," she paused for the suitably dramatic time period before grinning widely. "It's somewhere here. A magical artifact, in my own home."

Of course. Eranthia's father was a key player in the government of Ilcodeux. Of course, the pink pearl was hidden in Fragaria Tower. Why would they trust a key to sabotaging the island to anyone less than a polician.

Eranthia handed me the piece of paper "There's the recipe. The riddle is on the back."

"Thanks, I guess."

"When you change your mind about the pink pearl, come and talk to me about it," Eranthia said "For now, let's not mess with magic we don't understand."

Oh, how I loved messing with magic I didn't understand.

We returned to the tea table.

"There you are," Edonia said "You were gone for so long I actually bothered to check my phone. And lo and behold. A text from Pacifinos yesterday about someone you're going on a date with," she raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I'm not going on a date with Casey," I replied "We're going to build a boat together."

"Sounds like a date to me," Edonia said.

"You could sail away to paradise," Eranthia declared dramatically "Steal away in the middle of the night to find someplace to be alone together forever, just the two of you."

"Guys, stop," I said "That doesn't sound romantic, being alone with one and only one person for the rest of your life. No friends? Or family."

"You don't like family."

"I don't like my bad family. That doesn't mean I want to cut all ties with... that would be... just Uncle Decimus. Maybe Mom if I feel gracious. Or Tilly, although she's technically not family-"

"Quit changing the subject," Eranthia said "When's your date?"

"Not a date."

"Fine. Boat-building session."

"It's Saturday," I said.

Eranthia looked down at her lap, and gently scratched the scales on Ackwellan's head "Don't take what I said... about sailing away and leaving all of us behind... don't take it too seriously."

"I won't."

[amonoff]

Ah, memories

My first contribution to Ninjago and first writing in awhile, so...it’s stale, I’ll admit. I’ll probably work on other things to practice.

Slightly different events with the movie!Garmadon family just before Koko left.

“And that’s when the super wimpy, super pathetic, skeleton general appeared atop the mountain! He said some mumbo jumbo about beating us…the pathetic worm, am I right, Luh-Lloyd?” Garmadon cooed, rubbing the hand puppet version of himself on Lloyd’s face. Lloyd squealed with joy, right arm raising up to try and grab it. Garmadon grinned making little baby noises as he booped his son’s nose with the puppet.

“Absolutely! Anyway, back to my story,” Garmadon raised the puppet of himself and the skeleton general high for him to see. “Now see here, Luh-Lloyd the first important thing about being evil is breaking the rules. Like y’know how heroes actually let their enemy finish their speech? Well, obviously bad guys don’t do that!”

He threw his puppet self over to the general, smacking it around and using fingers in the arm sleeves to punch the general. Lloyd giggled, cheering at his father. “I fought and kicked him halfway in! Even stole his sword to beat him with it, and then I punched him with my four arms! You should’ve been born then, Luh-Lloyd. It looked cool-”

Garmadon made to show himself strangle the general when he heard the soft creak of the door behind him. He turned and of course there was the most beautiful, bravest, most accomplished woman in all of Ninjago; his wife. Just looking at her as she took off her helmet made him feel weak. He got up from the floor, taking Lloyd into his arms and brought him to his mother. Lloyd immediately let out a small, excited cry for her. It made Misako smiled. She walked over with open arms to take her son while Garmadon kissed her.

“Welcome home, Koko. I trust everything went smoothly on your side with dealing with the rebels?”

“Of course, Garmy. They were just a few small, disorganized groups. No big threats.”

“Excellent. Now everything will be set!” Garmadon walked over to the room window, looking through the glass and out to the glowing city, sitting just beyond the coast of his volcano. His smile was the brightest it had been in awhile. He didn’t notice the sudden falter of his wife’s gaze at him, or how her arms shook as she carried their child, who had gone quiet.

She walked over beside the freakishly tall man. “Garmy, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s all this for, exactly? The towns we’ve captured are hardly rich with money or resources. I don’t see them becoming very big in the future.”

“Hmm? Ah, well…” Garmadon thought for a tentative moment, actually hesitating for a moment before he felt Misako brush her hand over his face. He looked down to see her and Lloyd.

“C’mon, Garmy. You can’t have me running your army around without knowing why any longer.” Then she bobbed Lloyd up and down a little to get a cute cry from him.

Looking at the two...any doubt cleared. They were already so close anyway.

“Oh, alright. I wanted it to be surprise, but I don’t know what might happen. You should know.” He takes Lloyd from his wife using his bottom two arms, and the opens the windows for a full, unobstructed view on Ninjago with his upper arms. He brings Lloyd up to better see the brimming city. “Koko, I’m going to conquer Ninjago City!”

“W-What?” Misako asks, a lot quieter now. Garmadon looks at her with concern sees her wide eyes and hanging lips. Yes, of course she would be surprised and concerned. He immediately goes over to her and lays his hand on her shoulder to assure her. “I know it sounds crazy, Koko. But I’ve thought my plan through!”

“That’s what many before you said too, Garmy.” Misako sighed, lifting her hand as she softly held husband’s hand. “Though there’re only five elemental ninjas guarding the city, they’re all powerful. Masters of combat, and the elements of fire, water, earth, lightning, and ice. And your brother Wu is among them.”

At that, Garmadon frowned, mostly in annoyance at the mention of his annoying little brother. He let go of his wife and crossed his arms behind him as he turned back to the city, staring with a narrowed eyes now. “I know. That is why I’ve placed spies in the city. To watch the Ninjas’ activities and Wu. They recently told that my brother will set off on a trip soon in five days. When he is gone, that is when I plan to strike.”

“So you’ll fight the Ninjas in the assault?”

Garmadon shakes his head. “No. I plan on sending my army as a diversion. I will set off in secret alone on a small air vehicle to top of the Ninjago Tower and set my flag on top. Once it’s planted, I will be Ninjago’s official conqueror.”

Misako looked at him in shock. It was understandable since such a tactic wasn’t very glorious or epic one. Garmadon hated it, but it had the best chance of granting him victory. No one would expect it, especially the Ninjas. He was sure Misako understood this too when he saw her nod quietly “Garmy, why do you want to conquer Ninjago? Aren’t the other cities we’ve already conquered enough?”

“Ninjago isn’t for us, Koko.” Garmadon explained, then turning down to little Lloyd, who still had his eyes on what probably was strange bright light of different colors, very much unlike torches that lit up Garmadon’s castle. “I want to conquer it for Luh-Lloyd.”

“Lloyd?”

“Yes. Luh-Lloyd is weak, puny…bald. And can’t even walk. Just hiding my face makes him cry.” Garmadon sighed. He shook his head to get those thoughts out and back on his point. “But someday, eventually, he’ll learn how to walk and talk. Hopefully when he finally grows his hair. And when that time comes, I want to pass to him an empire.”

“And the towns and cities we’ve already conquered aren’t enough?”

“No, that’s not it, Koko. They’re okay, but like you said, none of them will be very big in the future. Ninjago, though, is vibrant, brimming with life, and filled with strong warriors, just like our son. That place has a far more prosperous future compared to that. It’s the only fitting place for our son to rule.”

“But...he’s still only just a baby, Garmy. Don’t you think this is too fast?”

“Nonsense! I had to start learning Spinjitsu since the day I was born! And besides, Luh-Lloyd is already making great strides to becoming a great ruler! Look!” He brought Lloyd up closer to his face and cleared his throat, as loud as he could manage to get his attention. Of course, Lloyd turned up, making small sound.

“WAHAHAHA!” he bellowed. It was a generic evil laugh, he had to admit, but then he heard his son giggle excitedly and then-

“Wahahaha!” he squeaked, mimicking his laugh albeit maybe laughing too quickly. Still, an evil laugh was an evil laugh!

“See, Koko! Maybe it’s not maniacal yet but in a few years, it will be dripping with pure evil! He will be the most vicious, dangerous, and feared evil ruler of Ninjago.” He explained gleefully, and he laughed a little at the thought. His son growing up to become just like him and his mother.

But as he looked to his wife for a smile or at least some sign that she was reassured of Lloyd’s capability, she only looked...lost. He lips still hung a little and her eyes remained only Lloyd. There was depth to it he hadn’t seen before. Usually there was a fire in his wife’s eyes. It burned bright when she was happy, and exploded when infuriated. In them now, he saw nothing.

“Koko?” He asked, and suddenly she jolted in surprise.

“S-Sorry. I guess I was lost in thought.” she apologized. She never apologized.

“Misako, are you feeling alright? You’ve been strangely these past few days as well.” Garmadon inquired, remembering how less energetic she had been of late, or how she took less glory at the face of felled foes amidst combat. He had always chalked it up to post-pregnancy, but now he worried it was something else. All the same, Misako smiled at him and placed her hand on his shoulders.

“I’m fine, Garmy. I guess…” she stared at Lloyd again, who looked at his mother confused, wondering why she looked so sad. She wrapped her arms around him and carried him off Garmadon’s hands. “I guess I’m just worried about Lloyd. If he can really do it, y’know?”

At that, Garmadon smiled widely. “Of course he can, Koko! He is our child, after all! He will grow up a strong, proud, accomplished warrior like you. And take my handsomeness and leadership!” He gave his wife another kiss to the cheek, earning from her a small laugh.

“I suppose you’re right.” she said to him, smiling a little now. “Anyway, it’s getting late. It’s Lloyd’s sleeping time.”

“Wait, already?!” Garmadon turned behind him and indeed, the time was now close to nine. “Aw man! Can’t he stay up a bit longer? I was telling him about our battle with the skeleton general!”

“No, Garmy. He needs his sleep.” Misako chuckled, leaving to get Lloyd’s formula. Garmadon groaned, but he conceded to his boy getting stronger.

“Well, that only gives me more time to prepare all the stuff for a grander tale. I’m gonna go to our room and prepare it all. Oh, and work! Yes, work!”

Garmadon hastily collected the puppets, with exception to two, of course. The puppets of himself and Koko. Those he placed in Lloyd’s crib.

“I’ll see you later, Koko.” He bidded. 
“Bye, Garmy.” she said. Just before he could leave, he heard her continue. “And I love you.”

It sounded different. Heavier, if he could put it. He turned to his wife to see her beginning to bottle feed Lloyd, still smiling. He pushed the thought away. “I love you too, Koko.”

Garmadon stared at the photos spread on the wall, all hung in an orderly fashion. Despite all the dust, they were in a clean state almost untouched from the centuries that passed. He supposed they must’ve been handled with care before...the owners passed.

Lloyd stood by his side, no longer an infant but now a grown young man of sixteen years. He stayed quiet as he listened to his father’s story. Garmadon imagined how hard it must be to believe every word. That there was a time where the three lived together, and were blissfully happy.

“That was the last time I saw your mother.” Garmadon finally continued after his brief pause, sighing a little as he focused on the photo with him, Misako, and baby Lloyd. “It wasn’t until midnight that I grew worried. She never stayed up late. I went to your room to see if she was still there, but there was only a note in your crib. She left and took you with her to Ninjago. She wanted you to have a normal life.”

Garmadon paused again, getting lost once more in his memories. The day he met Misako, every battle together, the day Lloyd was born, the day they named him. “...I could’ve changed.” he whispered quietly, as if it was to himself.

“What…?” Lloyd asked.

“I could’ve changed, Luh-Lloyd. Become a better man for Koko. But I didn’t, and lost you both.”

Silence filled the room. Garmadon’s story was finished and now...it was actually getting kind of awkward. He looked around for the other ninjas to say something but he realised that it was only him and Lloyd in the room.

“Uh, Dad?” Lloyd asked, turning to his dad. “Did...mom take anything with her when she left? I mean, aside from me. Like, a toy or something?”

“Hm, I don’t really know.” Garmadon admitted, stroking his helmet as he tried to recall. “I became so focused with conquering Ninjago after that that I never went back to your room for months. By then, it was cleaned up.”



“Oh. Um, coz... I think-”

“I THINK I FOUND IT!!” Jay suddenly screamed from wherever he was, causing the to jump a little in surprise.

“W-Where, Jay?!” Lloyd yelled.

“In the hall, over here!” Jay yelled back, a little excited. “C’mon!”

“All right, we’re coming!” Kai said, suddenly coming out of the kitchen to follow where he thought he heard Jay. Nya, Cole, and Zane began to run in to go to wherever Jay was too. Seeing this, Lloyd and his father followed, deciding to put the conversation off till later.

It was a memory from a long time back, so most of what he could recall was hazy. He hadn’t remembered what happened that day, but he remembered being upset and crying about it in his room. He had his head stuffed under a pillow so no one would see when he heard someone call him.

“Luh-Lloyd~? Hey, are you okay, Luh-Lloyd~?” It was a low but whimsical voice. Lloyd couldn’t help but poke his head out to see who it was.

It was his mom, with the black samurai puppet on her hand.

“Hey there, Luh-Lloyd! Tell me what’s wrong!” the samurai asked, still with the goofy voice. Lloyd wiped away the tears, not wanting his mom to see them.

“N-Nothing’s wrong!”

“Aw, are you sure?” the samurai tilted sideways. “Well, then I suppose you don’t want ice cream?”

Lloyd perked up. “No, I want ice cream!!”

His mom laughed, then bringing up a full-bowl, chocolate-flavored with fruits, for him. Lloyd grabbed it and quickly got a spoonful. Just like that, he was already smiling.

“See? Feeling better already?”

“Yeah!” Lloyd answered. His mother laughed, and he took another bite when she carried him off the bed. She brushed his hair aside to give him a kiss on his forehead. She was smiling at him.

“I love you, Honey.”

Lloyd beamed back at her. “Love you too, Mom!”

And suddenly, she brought the black samurai up again, who piped, “Aw, not me~?” He drooped to look sad. Lloyd couldn’t help laughing.

“You too.” Lloyd patted to puppet’s head.

After that, his mother brought him to the living room where they watched some shows together before he did his homework. Then he had dinner, did more homework, and watched TV again.

If Lloyd had to be honest, that day was basically his normal everyday life, even up till now. Heck, the only difference was that he actually had friends this time, and the puppet...he outgrew it years ago.

He had it for as long as he knew his mom, so never thought about where it might’ve come from. 

If he was right, it should still be in his closet, tucked away with the other toys he had forgotten. Maybe...he should show it to dad once they got back?

...yeah. Why not?

[forsoothsayer]

Bolivár by Nikos Engonopoulos

A Greek Poem        THEY SAW AN APPARITION OF THESEUS IN ARMS, RUSHING        ON AT THE HEAD OF THEM AGAINST THE BARBARIANS Le cuer d’un home vaut tout l’or d’un pais For the great, the free, the brave, the strong, The fitting words are great and free and brave and strong, For them, the total subjection of every element, silence, for    them tears, for them beacons, and olive branches, and    the lanterns That bob up and down with the swaying of the ships and scrawl    on the harbours’ dark horizons, For them are the empty barrels piled up in the narrowest lane,    again of the harbor, For them the coils of white rope, the chains, the anchors, the    other manometers, Amidst the irritating smell of petroleum, That they might fit out a ship, put to sea and depart, Like a tram setting off, empty and ablaze with light, in the    nocturnal serenity of the gardens, With one purpose behind the voyage: ad astra. For them I’ll speak fine words, dictated to me by Inspiration’s    Muse, As she nestled deep in my mind full of emotion For the figures, austere and magnificent, of Odysseus    Androutsos and Simon Bolivár. But for now I’ll sing only of Simon, leaving the other for an    appropriate time, Leaving him that I might dedicate, when the time comes,    perhaps the finest song that I’ve ever sung, Perhaps the finest song that’s ever been sung in the whole    world. And this not for what they both were for their countries, their    nations, their people, and other such like that fail to    inspire, But because they remained throughout the ages, both of them,    alone always, and free, great, brave and strong. And shall I now despair that to this very day no one has    understood, has wanted, has been able to understand    what I say? Shall the fate then be the same for what I say now of Bolivar,    that I’ll say tomorrow of Androutsos? Besides, it’s no easy thing for figures of the importance of    Androutsos and Bolivar to be so quickly understood, Symbols of a like. But let’s move on quickly: for Heaven’s sake, no emotion,    exaggeration or despair. Of no concern, my voice was destined for the ages alone. (In the future, the near, the distant, in years to come, a few,    many, perhaps from the day after tomorrow or the day    after that, Until the time that, empty and useless and dead, the Earth    begins to drift in the firmament, The young, with mathematical precision, will awake in their      beds on wild nights, Moistening their pillows with tears, wondering at who I was,    reflecting That once I existed, what words I said, what songs I sang. And the gigantic waves that every evening break on Hydra’s    seven shores, And the savage rocks, and the high mountain that brings down    the blizzards, Will eternally and untiringly thunder my name.) But let’s get back to Simon Bolivár. Bolivár! A name of metal and wood, you were a flower in    the gardens of South America. You had all the gentleness of flowers in your heart, in your    hair, in your gaze. Your hand was huge like your heart, and scattered both good    and evil. You swept through the mountains and the stars trembled, you    came down to the plains, with your gold finery, your    epaulets, all the insignia of your rank, With a rifle hanging on your shoulder, with chest bared, with    your body covered in wounds, And stark naked you sat on a low rock, at the sea’s edge, And they came and painted you in the ways of Indian braves, With wash, half white, half blue, so you’d appear like a lonely    chapel on one of Attica’s shores, Like a church in the districts of Tatavla, like a palace in a    deserted Macedonian town. Bolivár! You were reality, and you are, even now, you are    no dream. When the wild hunters nail the wild eagles, and the other wild    birds and animals, Over their wooden doors in the wild forests, You live again, and shout, and grieve, And you are yourself the hammer, nail and eagle. If on the isles of coral, winds blow and the empty fishing boats    overturn, And the parrots are a riot of voices when the day ends and    the gardens grow quiet drowned in humidity, And in the tall trees the crows perch, Consider, beside the waves, the iron tables of the cafeneion, How the damp eats at them in the gloom, and far off the light    that flashes on, off, on again, turning back and forth. And day breaks – what frightful anguish – after a night without    sleep, And the water reveals nothing of its secrets. Such is life. And the sun comes, and the houses on the wharf, with their    island-style arches, Painted pink, and green, with white sills (Naxos, Chios), How they live! How they shine like translucent fairies! Such is    Bolivár! Bolivár! I cry out your name, reclining on the peak of    Mount Ere, The highest peak on the isle of Hydra. From here the view, enchanting, extends as far as the Saronic    isles, Thebes, Beyond Monemvasia, far below, to august Egypt, And as far as Panama, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Honduras, Haiti,    San Domingo, Bolivia, Colombia, Peru, Venezuela,    Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Uraguay, Paraguay, Ecuador, As far even as Mexico. With hard stone I carve your name in rock, that afterwards men    may come in pilgrimage. As I carve sparks fly – such, they say, was Bolivár – and I    watch my hand as it writes, gleaming in the sun. You saw the light for the first time in Caracas. Your light, Bolivár, for before you came the whole of South America    was plunged in bitter darkness. Now your name is a blazing torch, lighting America, North and    South, and all the world! The Amazon and Orinoco rivers spring from your eyes. The high mountains are rooted in your breast, The Andes range is your backbone. On the crown of your head, brave palikar, run unbroken    stallions and wild cattle, The wealth of Argentina. On your belly sprawl vast coffee plantations. When you speak, terrible earthquakes spread devastation, From Patagonia’s formidable deserts as far as the colourful    islands, Volcanoes erupt in Peru and vomit their wrath in the heavens, Everywhere the earth trembles and the icons creak in Kastoria, The silent town beside the lake. Bolivár, you have the beauty of a Greek. I first encountered you, as a child, in one of Phanar’s steep    cobbled streets, A lighted lamp in Mouchlio illumined your noble face. Are you, I wonder, one of the myriad forms assumed, and    successively discarded by Constantine Palaeologus? Boyaca, Ayacucho. Ideas both illustrious and eternal. I was    there. We’d already left the old frontiers far behind: Back in the distance, fires were burning in Leskovik. And in the night, the army moved up towards the battle, its    familiar sounds could already be heard. Opposite, a grim Convoy of endless trucks returned with the    wounded. Don’t anyone be alarmed. Down there, see, the lake. This is the way they'll come, beyond the rushes. The roads have been mined: the work and repute of that    Hormovo man, renowned, unrivalled in such matters.    Everyone to their stations. The whistle’s sounding! Come on, come on. Get the cannons uncoupled and set up,    clean the barrels with the swabs, fuses lit and held    ready, Cannon-balls to the right. Vrass! Vrass, Albanian for fire: Bolivár! Every pineapple that was hurled and exploded, Was a rose to the glory of the great general, As he stood, stern and unshaken, amid the dust and tumult, Gazing on high, his forehead in the clouds, And the sight of him caused dread: fount of awe, path of    justice, gate of salvation. Yet, how many conspired against you, Bolivár, How many traps did they not set for you to fall into and vanish, One man, above all, a rogue, a snake, a native of    Philippoupolis. But what was that to you, like a tower you stood firm, upright,    before Acongagua’s terror, Holding a mighty cudgel and wielding it above your head. The bald-headed condors, unafraid of the carnage and smoke of    battle, took fright and flew up in terrified flocks, And the llamas hurled themselves down the mountain slopes,    dragging, as they fell, a cloud of earth and rocks. And into the dark of Tartarus your enemies disappeared, lay    low. (When the marble arrives, the best from Alabanda, I’ll sprinkle    my brow with Blachernae’s holy water, I’ll use all my craft to hew your stance, to erect the statue of a    new Kouros in Sikynos’ mountains, Not forgetting, of course, to engrave on its base that famous    “Hail, passer-by”.) And here it should above all be stressed that Bolivar was never    afraid, never, as they say, “lost his nerve”, Not even at the most murderous hour of battle, nor in the bitter    gloom of unavoidable treachery. They say he knew beforehand, with unimaginable precision, the    day, the hour, even the second: the moment, Of the Great Battle that was for him alone, In which he himself would be army and enemy, both    vanquished and victor, triumphant hero and sacrificial    victim. (And the lofty spirit of such as Cyril Loukaris reared within    him, How he calmly eluded the despicable plots of the Jesuits and    that wretched man from Philippoupolis!) And if he was lost, if ever lost is such a one as Bolivar! who    like Apollonius vanished into the heavens, Resplendent like the sun he disappeared, in unimaginable glory,    behind the gentle mountains of Attica and the Morea. invocation Bolivár! You are a son of Rigas Ferraios, Of Antonios Economou – so unjustly slain – and brother to    Pasvantzoglou, The dream of the great Maximilien de Robespierre lives again    on your brow, You are the liberator of South America. I don’t know how you were related, if one of your descendants    was that other great American, the one from    Montivideo, One thing alone is sure, that I am your son. CHORUS strophe            (entrée des guitares) If the night, slow in passing, Sends moons of old to console us, If in the wide plain phantom shades Burden flowing-haired maidens with chains, The hour of victory, of triumph has come. On hollow skeletons of field marshal generals Cocked hats soaked in blood will be placed, And the red that was theirs before the sacrifice Will cover with rays the flag's lustre. antistrophe    (the love of liberty brought us here) the ploughs at the palms’ roots and the sun that rises resplendent amid trophies and birds and spears will announce as far as a tear rolls carried by the breeze to the sea’s depths the most terrible oath the more terrible darkness the terrible tale: Libertad epode            (freemasons’ dance) Away with you curses, come near us no more, corazón, From the cradle to the stars, from the womb to the eyes,    corazón, Where precipitous rocks, where volcanoes and seals, corazón, Where swarthy faces, thick lips and gleaming white teeth,    corazón, Let the phallus be raised, the revels begin, with human    sacrifice, dance, corazón, In a carnival of flesh, to our ancestors’ glory, corazón, That the seed of the new generation be sown, corazón.        CONCLUSION: Following the success of the South-American revolution, a bronze statue of Bolivár was erected in Nauplion and Monemvasia, on a deserted hill overlooking the town. However, the fierce wind that blew at night caused the hero’s frock-coat to flap furiously, creating a noise so great, so deafening, that it was impossible for anyone to get a moment’s rest, sleep was now out of the question. So the inhabitants complained and, through the appropriate steps, succeeded in having the monument torn down.    SONG OF FAREWELL TO BOLIVÁR (Here the sound of a distant band is heard, with incomparable melancholy playing popular nostalgic songs and dances from South America, preferably in sardane time)       general       what were you doing in Larissa       you       from       Hydra?

[sadrien]

snapped strings

on ao3

i dont know what happened today but all my friends started arguing and i spent almost two hours just crying. it was pretty bad. i wanted nothing more than for it all to stop or for someone to show up and just give me a hug

i dont think were going to be ok anytime soon

take some bullshit. the characterizations are kind of shit. i wrote half of this while crying and didnt reread it. im sorry

Marinette lunges for her headphones when she hears him land on the balcony. She wipes her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater — not that it does much with how wet they are — and pretends she doesn’t hear him. Because she doesn’t want to hear him.

She doesn’t want him near her right now.

He knocks on the trapdoor.

She can’t find her headphones in her mess of a bed. Her phone is on the floor now, where she threw it in frustration after Alya left the chat angrily and Marinette’s tears turned into sobs.

She’s just happy her parents haven’t come up to see what’s wrong yet. She wants to be left alone. She doesn’t want him here.

He keeps knocking.

She can’t pretend to be asleep because he can see through her trapdoor. Because she didn’t think to cover it.

She’s finding black fabric as soon as he goes away.

He knocks again. Why won’t he stop knocking?

Marinette wants to tear her hair out or scream or anything. But all she can do is cry. And cry and cry and just keep crying. She feels empty and broken and pathetic and— 

He knocks.

She throws the trapdoor open and shouts, “Go away!” but the words get caught and twisted in her sobs and they break in a pitiful sort of way.

Chat stares down at her in surprise, like he didn’t actually think she’d even look him in the eye, let alone yell at him.

“Didn’t you get the message?” Marinette snaps. “I don’t want to see you!”

“I—”

“Leave me alone!”

Chat’s ears flatten against his head and he glances away, chewing on his bottom lip. “I… If you’re going to yell at me, you should come out here. You’re going to wake up your parents.”

Marinette tries to channel her pain into anger but it’s not working. It falls flat into nothing but sadness. She sniffs and wipes her cheeks again and hauls herself onto the balcony, closing her trapdoor with her foot.

Chat takes a step back, shoulders hunched.

“I hate you,” Marinette whispers. She wraps her arms around herself.

He winces. “I know.”

A sob wracks her body. “I’m mad at you,” she tries to hiss but it sounds more shattered.

“I’m mad at you too,” he says and the bite in his voice is almost surprising. He glares at her, and she notices that his glowing green eyes are watery. “And I’m absolutely terrified of losing you. So you can yell at me all night and you can throw me off of every rooftop in Paris, but I’m still going to end up here, standing in front of you, because you are my partner and best friend and my family and I— I don’t know what I’d do without you and the thought of not having you around makes me sick to my stomach.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I’m so scared of being without you. And I am so sorry.”

Marinette stalks forward and hits his chest with her hands. “You’re terrible,” she snaps, blood boiling. Because she hates that he’s hurting and that she’s hurting and that everyone is hurting. And she hates that she has no magical way to fix this and no supervillain she can blame and hunt down. And there’s no way this will ever be what it was again. She hits his chest again. “You’re awful. And I don’t know what to do or how to fix it—” she chokes back a sob, tears flowing freely down her face, “but you’re awful and I’m awful and we’re all just awful. And I— I—”

Chat hugs her like he thinks she’s going to disappear, tight enough so she can’t pull away, not that she wants to. He curls around her, and she suddenly notices he’s shaking.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and she aches.

Fighting always leaves her drained and empty, and as Marinette stands on her balcony in the dark of night, she can feel her energy dipping.

She hates arguing.

She feels so helpless.

“I’m sorry,” Chat says, voice shaking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“She hates me,” Marinette says. “She hates me so much.”

She feels him shake his head. “She could never hate you.”

Someone lands on the balcony. She hears their feet hit the ground and feels Chat tense in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” Paon says softly.

Chat takes a slow breath.

Marinette is reminded of Nino’s messages as the argument got more and more heated. His desperate attempts at defusing the situation, changing the subject, and making forced jokes. They’d seemed so out of place and tone deaf.

Chat pulls away from Marinette. He presses a kiss to the top of her head before he turns around to face Paon. He forces a small smile, crooked and timid. “I am too.”

The tension rushes out of Paon’s body and he sags against the railing of the balcony. “Thank god, dude, I was so worried that—” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about it.” He steps forward and throws his arms around Chat. It takes Chat a second to return the hug, but he returns it nonetheless. “I’m sorry that got so out of hand.”

“Me too,” Marinette hears Chat murmur.

She wraps her arms around herself and tries to convince herself it will be okay. She doesn’t know if they can talk about exactly what happened — she’s kind of terrified to try — but they’re talking and that’s…good. At least, some of them are talking.

“How did you know to come here?” she asks softly.

Paon meets her eyes. “You’re always the first one Chat goes to.” He releases Chat from the hug. “I took an educated guess.”

Marinette takes a shaky breath. “Were you still reading the chat?”

Paon nods slowly as Chat takes Marinette’s hand. “They were still, uh…talking. Because I added Alya back in because she thought of something else to say and they kind of went off— Chloé kind of went off.”

“It was bad,” Chat mumbles. “But I don’t know what we could’ve done to fix it.”

“I think sometimes it’s just inevitable,” Paon admits. “If you stop up a volcano long enough, it’ll explode or something like that, right?”

Marinette forces a laugh. “Glad we’re a destructive force of nature that ruins lives.” She feels a pressure in the back of her head that tells her she’s going to start crying again. She didn’t think she had enough water left in her body for that, but apparently she was wrong.

Chat squints into the darkness. “If you want a force of nature, she’s about to crash land on your balcony.”

Paon steps out of the way as Queen Bee stops short and her heels skid on Marinette’s balcony.

They all stare at each other in silence for a long moment.

“I’m the worst,” Bee whispers hoarsely after the silence has stretched on for too long for anyone to be comfortable. “The absolute worst.” She balls up her hands by sides and stares at the ground with a glare that could set Paris aflame. “I— I’m sorry for ruining everything.”

It’s dark, but Marinette can see makeup marks on her cheeks where the mask doesn’t hide the tear tracks. Bee’s eyes are red and puffy and Marinette knows that under the mask she’s just as much of a mess as the rest of them.

“You didn’t ruin everything,” Chat promises.

Bee scoffs. “There was a little too much of a pause there for comfort, Adri,” she says bitterly. “This is what happens when you include someone beyond redemption in a fun little group of heroes.”

“Shut up,” Paon says.

Bee whirls toward him, ponytail nearly smacking him in the face. “Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘shut up’.” Paon crosses his arms. “They don’t give a miraculous to just anyone. You’re here for a reason—”

“But—”

“Just because you’re make bad choices sometimes and say mean things doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. Bro, you’ve gotten so much better.” Paon shrugs. “Don’t invalidate yourself just because you screw up once. Cause…” he sighs. “We all screwed up tonight. Big time.”

Bee stares at him for a second before she yanks him into a tight hug.

Paon freezes before patting her back awkwardly.

“I’m so glad these things have trackers in them,” Bee mumbles into Paon’s shoulder. “I’m still not entire convinced you don’t all hate me.”

“We couldn’t hate you,” Marinette says.

Bee looks over her shoulder. “What?”

“We…” Marinette swallows and tucks her hair behind her ear. “You’re our teammate and our friend. We don’t hate you.”

Bee ducks her head. “Speak for yourself. I doubt Alya feels the same.”

“You won’t know until you ask her,” Chat points out.

“That sounds like a bad idea.”

Paon nudges Bee lightly. “Hey, who knows? The rest of us found our way onto Mari’s balcony. Maybe a certain fox will show up too.”

They all look toward the tower, like Vixen will come bounding over the rooftops at any moment.

Bee sighs and sinks to the ground, leaning against the bars of the railing. “I wouldn’t hold out hope,” she grumbles. “Not that I can blame her,” she adds quickly. “I was…terrible.”

“So was Alya,” Chat points out.

Marinette sits down on her chair and Paon crosses the balcony to join her.

“Can we all agree that we regret tonight?” Marinette asks.

Everyone nods.

“Get comfy folks,” Paon says, laying back in the chair as Marinette pulls his legs up onto her lap. “I’m pretty sure Alya is the most stubborn of us all.”

Marinette is glad that it’s a warm and clear night. She’s pretty sure Paon dozes while Chat paces back and forth restlessly until Bee grabs him by the arm and says he’s going to wear a hole in the balcony. Bee pulls him to the ground next to her and runs her fingers through his hair as he rocks and taps.

Marinette stares at the stars.

She still feels a little like she’s going to be sick. She’s still missing part of her team, part of the machine that makes them work, part of herself.

Her phone is still on her floor, possibly shattered, countless unread messages on her lockscreen. She doesn’t really want to read through them all later. Maybe she’ll just ask Nino for a more detailed rundown of what happened. Maybe she’ll just ignore it. Pretend it didn’t happen.

No, that’s a bad idea. They can’t move on like they didn’t completely shatter. The problems they confronted need to be addressed, or they’ll never be whole again. They have to pick up the pieces and glue themselves back together. They have to. For Paris. And for themselves.

It’s quieter when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye and sees Vixen slowly making her way over. Vixen pauses every once and awhile, like she’s not completely committed to the journey yet.

Marinette shakes Paon awake.

Vixen leaps onto the railing of the balcony, balancing carefully on the thin metal.

Chat and Bee look up at her from the ground.

“Hi,” Marinette says softly.

Vixen’s eyes sweep over the balcony, taking them all in, expression stony. “I didn’t get the memo that we were having a meeting.”

“Impromptu and unofficial,” Bee says, her voice tight.

“Hm.”

Chat stands up and offers Vixen a hand. She stares at it. “I’m sorry,” Chat says. “For everything. Everything that happened tonight and anything that happened before and— and I’ll have a better apology in the morning, I swear.”

Vixen takes his hand and hops down from the railing.

Bee leaps to her feet and launches herself at Vixen, hugging her tightly as Vixen nearly topples backward. Chat steadies them as Vixen stares at Bee with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry that I was awful and mean and I should’ve been a better teammate and friend and you deserve better than me I’m sorry,” Bee blurts.

“I…” Vixen pulls away from Bee. Bee’s eyes go wide with worry, but Vixen holds Bee’s hands tight. “I’m sorry too,” she says slowly. “I was out of line.”

“So was I,” Bee murmurs.

Paon swings his legs off of Marinette’s lap and walks over to the group in two long strides. He puts a hand on Vixen’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Vixen nods, eyes starting to water.

Marinette stands, wringing her hands. “Me too,” she says. “I— Yeah. I’m sorry. To everyone.”

Paon grabs her by the arm and pulls her into a group hug. Bee immediately starts crying, and Marinette can feel herself getting close again too. Silent tears are running down Vixen’s face before she buries her face in Chat’s shoulder. Paon is hugging them hard enough to make it hard to breathe.

Things might be okay.

It’s going to take time, and a lot of work, but they’ll be okay. They’re a team built to get through the worst. They might break a bit, but they’ll put themselves back together in the end.

“I love you all,” Marinette says after a few moments, “but can we maybe go inside? Having almost all of Paris’ superheroes on my balcony might look a little suspicious.”

Vixen laughs. The relief Marinette feels at hearing it is indescribable. “Yeah,” Vixen says with a watery smile. “Let’s go inside.”

[itscaramelli]

hello, been a while since i write and post. was thinking to launch my article + hashtag series but, i guess i have something a lot better for my 2nd bloggiversary.

as some of you might know, i recently just attended a campus conference; unashamed. so yes, this post today is going to be about that trip. how i got there, the people i met, how i think the city is, what i’ve learned and what God spoke to me personally :) so here it goes.

i love the aftermath of what the conference gave me. im still singing the songs in my head, picturing the visuals in my mind and having the chills from the Word i heard.

Aug 1st - 6th, 2017

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Day 1

our flight was at 2pm in the afternoon, we had a 3-4 hours layover in KL so we arrived at MNL at around 2am in the morning :’) THEN GUESS WHAT, we had few committees from the conference waited for us just to greet and welcome us in the airport on our arrival. that’s just the thing about the people there, they’re VERY welcoming and caring.

yes. it was undeniably tiring, i was unbearably exhausted but was cautiously excited of what’s gonna happen for the next few days. i personally got myself ready for this. i emptied my mind and heart to be filled with what God will give to me during the conference.

for first-timers like us, i knew we should be ready for any unexpected adventures. everything went well until we arrived in our apartment’s concierge; we couldn’t get in to our room as smooth as i imagined. it was around 3am and cuz i didn’t have the information about the room’s number yet, we called the owner of the apartment whom i been contacting through airbnb. YOU KNOW WHAT. turns out she was in labor. no kidding, no exaggeration. she legit was picking up my call and answering me in labor pain 😭💜 this is how extra and dedicated are the people there i’m tellin you.

long story short we finally got our keys, did little re-arrangements for the room and then we went to bed 💤 it was about 4am in the morning.

we got up at about 12noon to look straight for food lol 😂 speaking of which, we stayed in Pasay City. the food around the apartment was either fried chicken or pizza. so yes, you guessed it right, we had fried chicken for lunch.

the gates are opened at 2pm, so after a quick briefing in our tower lobby 2.15, we (with fellow indonesian delegates) walked together to the arena.

i honestly didn’t know what im gonna get myself into. i’ve never attended a campus conference before, so i was pretty much just ready for about anything. then, we were finally there, lining up at the entrance to get in…

they welcomed us with acoustic percussions session which they could invite us to dance along with them.

and that’s one of the things i really loved about the conference; they were really focused on students/youth that the tools they were using to attract us are 100% relatable.

we got there at about 4pm so we had to wait for 2 hours tops til the conference really starts. BUT IT DIDN’T FEEL THAT LONG AT ALL. as you all might know, i showed a glimpse of the ambience of the arena in my facebook posts (and more on this one!); that’s really nothing compared to the real thing, really.

they had videos of what to do and what not to keep us entertained, they also had videos of games which we can react to (basically to shout or dance or wave) and it was fun. they really kept our excitement going.

then they opened the praise & worship session with I’ll Never Walk Alone, it was soooOooooooOo uplifting. it really shows that they’ve thought everything through.

*tune in to Victory Worship’s Beautiful Love to get in my mood!*

the first session reminded me of how God had taken away the shame in me. i, we, were living in sin. sin brought shame. shame takes away our honor, while God actually gave security, talents & skills, which reflects in His image. and shame will try to make us go make an attempt to try with our own efforts to get that. when humanity decided to rebel against God, they immediately signs that they refuse what God has given us, the identity He had given us.

after hearing this message, the Holy Spirit gave me a vision of the things i’ve bothered myself with. the things that made me ashamed of myself in front of God. the lies that it had brought to me which made me who i am today.

then i felt Him. i felt Him saying “I have forgotten all of that. Melissa, you are MY daughter. you are ACCEPTED in My eyes. Don’t ever doubt My love for you. I have forgotten what you did wrong, it’s your turn to do the same.”

tears streamed down my face lyk craayyyyy D’:

God really touched my heart and made me understand that im worth far more than the shame i had built on myself. He has given me a new identity, my shame is covered by His great and everlasting love. no reason for me to be ashamed now.

so after the conference that night, we went to the mall for Jolibee :3

__

Day 2

they are opening the gate at 12noon that day and the conference will start at 4pm, so we gotta get ready a lil earlier than the day before.

we had a few plans for lunch that day but didnt manage to do any of it lol #sleepdeprived. since we also wanted to get the merch while knowing it’s gonna be a long line ahead of us for it, so we decided to get lunch in a place near the apartment.

we got in the arena at around 1.30pm i guess, and then went straight for the merchhh! it was a long line, but it was worth it. their merch were really cool and comfy. i wike it.

we always start the session with a praise and worship session. honestly, i rarely listen and haven’t really familarize myself with the church’s own music. so for the past 2 days, we were kinda blanked out. but, the good thing is they repeated the same songs on different sessions that it actually got stuck in our heads little by little.

after day 1, i actually got the revelation of how i should see my church back home in Bali. i feel like now i know the potential of what my church is going to be like. i got to the understanding of being there in the arena feels more like reuniting with the big ENC family. we talk about the same things, we speak the same ‘language’ and we serve the same faithful God <3

session 2 was about being unashamed of God Himself. it hit me just by the title of the message. i love how the conference have its own flow to make us understand in being shame-free. i learned that when we are already unashamed, free from the burden of shame, we can help others to do the same.

to live fearlessly unashamed is to live FULL of the Holy Spirit. God has called me to live a life of fullness, nothing half portioned. when i focus on God, i can see beyond my obstacles.

instead of being ashamed of God, i need to be proud. God has given me the spirit of boldness and love, that’s what happens when i focus on what God has given me. i use that to bring others back to Him, to let others love Him and experience His love. there’s no substitute in living/having the Word; i can’t love God FOR others.

with a lil greeting from few new MCs, we continued to the next session.

this time they talked about being unashamed of the Gospel. here’s what i’ve learned about it; the Gospel works because God MAKES IT WORK. it’s not me nor what i did, but God’s only power.

reasons to be unashamed of the Gospel; first, clarity of the message. meaning, let’s not put too much on our shoulders. Jesus is the message, i shud be telling about Him and what He’s done. second; conviction of Its truth. the Gospel is TRUE no matter they believe it or not. i shudnt hesitate to ask questions/to explore the Word together with fellow world changers :) next; confidence of Its power. the power is in the Gospel, not in me. focus on sharing about Jesus so that i can overcome my obstacles. next reason to be unashamed of the Gospel; compassion for the lost. 

God has a heart for the lost, He wants me to feel the same. and why was i ashamed of the Gospel u ask? cuz i was too focused on myself (on my cant’s and wont’s that i waste time on doubting myself, basically relying on public opinion) rather than the people who are longing for Jesus. 

i have been entrusted with an important duty and have been FILLED with the greatest power, so NO REASON TO BE ASHAMED.

we’re continuing the day to the worship night. during the 2-hour break we got the chance to reunite with the 10Days team from Baguio who visited Bali not so long ago <3 felt so gooood to be with this family again!

it was Campus Day that day, so we were supposed to wear our campus attires/uniforms. cuz lé lack of information i had, we didnt pack any of ours. so me, i decided to change to one of the tees i bought earlier.

now that i have His spirit, the next session was about having the power to preach the gospel. the Holy Spirit gives me boldness. let HIS WORD 'cut out’ into (their) hearts, it’s NOT my job to do that.

the spirit that we’re bringing home is the supposed to be like a volcano not matchsticks. we’ll always have to be ready to explode and let that spirit run through, not easily blown by raging winds. #weareTeka #notTeFiti #datDisneyreferencetho #sorry?

worship night started. we were literally just singing worship songs, speaking in tounge and declaring prophetic words. that part of the night really strengthened the message i have heard from the previous sessions.

there was a part where we were asked to just kneel down and be still to hear from God. im always looking forward to that, cuz i really want to experience hearing directly from God. but like how i’ve mentioned before, God has His own way to communicate with me. 

so on that complete silence while kneeling down, i didnt hear anything.

but when we started to go back standing up, while they’re singing worship songs in the background and prophetic words to strengthen, God started to picture faces in my heads. faces of the people i know and the people i’ve never even met before. faces of people from around the world.

those people i know, are my friends in college. my best friends whom i’ve spent most of my time with back in college. God was showing me how precious they are to me and to Him. God made me understand His heart for them, and not only that, on that very second He started to pour out His heart into mine. i started crying because God made me feel their pain in need of the Salvation. God refreshed me their back stories to remind me they’ve survived life, and they’ve survived for a reason. and that reason is to come back and reunite with Christ.

God changed my heart since that night. God made me see the importance of this mandate He left us to do. im fired up and revived by the Truth that has set me free from shame, and made my spirit rise to be ready to go home and do what needed to be done all this time.

we ended the night with a celebration, praising and worshipping God. the feeling of celebration synchronised with my heart, which was rejoicing knowing im living in a great and powerful purpose. it was a life-changing night for me. i went home with a happy, full and free heart.

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Day 3

same like day 2, we needed to be at the arena at 2pm at least.

different from me and my brother, Jeremy, we had Arrows to attend to that morning. the service starts at 9am so we went from our apartment at 7.30am to be on time there when the gate opens.

Arrows (in Ministry) is a community of Pastors’ Kids in the church worldwide. 

soooooo they served us great breakfast there. breakfast is my favorite meal of the day and there are a lot of foods to choose from i was so happy lol =)) but as you know i cant eat that much anyway, so i literally just had cereal and milk.

it was all good til i heard that we had to sit with complete strangers in one table hahahahaha. shud i even talk about this again? im a full-on introvert :)) just ask me to say hi to people i’ve never met before, and i could faint hahahaha kidding. but yes, please im speaking for fellow introverts on the face of this planet; we don’t like people, we love them :)))

it was not easy sure, but remembering what happened to me the night before i think i got this. so yea, i ended up in this table of 7 of us (new friends!) i guess? it was great to be around the friends who understands and who gets it. we all know the 'pressure’ and it was nice to hear their experiences and how they overcome their hard times.

personally i was never pressured with the pastor’s kid title by my parents. i already understood my role as God’s child and that is not different than any other God’s children in the world. since i was little i’ve never felt so excluded. i’ve never felt i had to be an example BECAUSE im a pastor’s kid, but its because i shud be the salt and light. then when it’s about dealing with meeting people’s expectations, what i understand is that im not a people-pleaser, im a Jesus-pleaser. *grins*

indonesian delegates are wearing indonesia themed/written attire that day. so before heading to the arena together with the bus, i and Jeremy had to change first.

it was a bitter-sweet feeling cuz it was the last day of the conference, but i also can’t wait to go home and share what has impacted me here. as i’ve mentioned before, they never made us feel like we’re waiting cuz they had these videos that kept us entertained.

they made us shout when we see our country’s name on the screen. how convenient??? we were wearing our country’s tees :“)))))

we had Victory Worship to lead us in praise & worship that final day! :))

the fifth session was shared by a Japanese pastor, he introduced us few Japanese words that we can actually use in discipleship. twas fun :3

from that session, using the story of Zacchaeus, we need to know some similarities here. both the campus and Jericho is a strategic place to start to change the world. God is in the business for destroying strongholds. and in the end, God wins :) Jesus engaged with Zacc(haeus), the very opposite person from who Jesus is. but He sees the potential in Zacc.

to have the heart to engage the campus, i need to see the pain of the lost. understand their need of Jesus and His salvation. then i see the potential in the Gospel to transform lives, not me or the people im reaching.

reach the campus by engaging the lost as lifestyle. because discipleship is a life-time process.

we ended that session with a powerful faith declaration.

the next session reminded me that we’re not only should impact our friends in the campus/school but also the people around us who we meet everyday.

what i’ve learned is that engaging the community is not meant to be intimidating and the Gospel is the power of God for Salvation. we are NOT the power, just vessels. so i need to put my confidence in God. cuz when i step out to help others, God will take care of me.

Jesus engaged the community. we engage the community to show what we look like, how we are about; reflecting heaven. it means we don’t always succeed. im not perfect, but im serving a perfect God.

to do it, i need to learn to wait on the Lord. go not with idea, but with faith and power from God. that’s the thing about us, we only carry the power. when i connect with God, i’ll realise who is the power and who is the carrier.

lastly, i need to remind myself that this is all about God. and im doing it to display His splendor.

on day two and day three, they had a halftime show during the break. that day, they chose pairs to represent each patron to play a game on the stage. its like a 'complete the lyrics’ kinda game. i was in the blue patron, our representatives lost but tsokeh!

we were supposed to bring flashlights or something that lights up that day. little did we know, that we’re actually going to use that for during the interval.

*tune in to The Beat by Victory Worship~*

the video got into a moment where it tells us to light up our flashlights while they ask things like; "are you unashamed of God?”, “are you unashamed of the gospel?”, and all we did was shout. and im telling you; i was not just shouting for the euphoria, but i was releasing my excitement cuz i know im free from shame itself and i cant wait to SHARE THE GOSPEL!!!

the video didn’t end there. after asking those questions, they wrote there “look around you. you are not alone.” (DUDEEEEEE WHAT?? HOW WAS I NOT SUPPOSED TO BE EMOTIONAL THAT TIME???!!) i held JJ, Em and Ryan on the shoulders reminding them the same thing :“) the final session hasn’t started yet and i was already crying whattttt.

aaannnddddd the final session is here. #bittersweet :’) they opened with Victory Worship’s “The Beat” sung by soloists in VARIOUS LANGUAGES in the world. MY EMOTION– I CANNOT EXPLAIN IT. :”””””””””

from that final session, ive learned that Jesus’ last words were meant to show His end-game; for us, all of us, to live in the Kingdom of God where the devil has no power.

Jesus directed His disciples to a specific place for missions; Galilee. irreligious, insubordinate and interracial Galilee. that’s where God wants His Kingdom to be settled on. there was a clear purpose why Jesus chose the mountain of Galilee, its cuz that’s where all the wrong things happen. 

His mission of bringing His 12 disciples was to send the TEENAGERS! WOOTS!!

we are not saved from something, we are saved FOR something.

the discipleship message is and has always been about Jesus. when we make disciples, we’re bringing Jesus to spread Jesus. so that His Kingdom is brought to this world. the method to do is teaching. teaching is about a personal journey through a personal relationship. we make disciples as we journey though life together.

the moment when im doing the right thing, thats where temptation will find its way to me. so i gotta keep that spirit and keep my eyes on Jesus at all times. and reminding myself that Jesus promises all authority for me to be His daughter.

dat bitter-sweet feeling so strong tho :”) the conference has ended, but it’s just the beginning now!

after everything’s done we were asked to leave the arena immediately but you know me imma take as many pictures i cud, keeping dem memories bruhhh!

we had dinner with the 10Days team from SWM ’16 who went to Bali last year. we ate at this pizza place called Yellow Cab :3 good food with awesome and loving fransss <3 #reunited

after that we went for a coffee (not me) and played game cards there. one thing i’ve learned from the people there is that; they stay up late! hahaha we were still at that coffee shop over 11.30pm and people haven’t stopped coming in.

thought we stopped there? nope. we, well some of us, decided to go karaoke somewhere near the arena. but we were wrong. it was more than 4km, we walked for almost an hour i guess??? but then we didn’t karaoke after all cuz it was too late and the minimum use for the room was for 3 hours so. yep we walked back :) fun…

what a DAY. we got back in our apartment then directly went to bed.

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Day 4 (last day)

we had plans with the Dionglays for that afternoon :3 we were sent an uber to go to the Every Nation building in BGC.

we were taken to the cafeteria as soon as we arrived. had lunch and then we were toured around the building, took pictures in front of the infamous world map and then sat in for a while in the prayer training. in that very prayer training, we got new friends and got a chance to partner up with them in prayer.

i personally loved the building, it’s like seeing the future! hahah everything is in its place and so organised. the atmosphere was so welcoming i didn’t want to go out :’)

but we did, we did few walks around the BGC and i started to realize that the EN building is literally surrounded by campuses and world embassies… was kinda speechless, it’s like God showed His obvious purpose for them to be placed there. <3

the rest of the day was funnnnn, we went to Market Market then had Philippines authentic cuisine for dinner. i enjoyed and loved every minute, it’s like reuniting with family.

went home with a full heart and tummy :3

and of course i didn’t go pack then sleep. i was legit polaroid photo hunting with Ems. didn’t go anywhere far, we went downstairs to the playground and pool area tryna get the best shots we could get. #lastnight #gottamakeitcount

packed then went to bed at around 1am? i forgot! x)

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Day 5

going homeeee :(: flight was at 12noon, so we needed to be there at least at 9am.

yes, that was a Sunday. but church service was impossible to attend, so we did a mini worship & sharing sesh in the apartment before we took off.

our kuya managed to get us some friends to help us for our airport trip. didn’t pay attention to the ticket, we actually got off at the wrong airport terminal =)) i panicked cuz i can’t have anymore spontaneous adventures that time :’)))) but God made everything go smooth afterwards, we made it in time for check in and baggage drop.

our flight to KL was 1 hour delayed, so when we got in KL we didn’t get that long layover we expected. it was good but kinda disappointing(?) cuz we actually prepared few things to do while waiting at the KL airport =‘)) but the faster the better righttttt???!!

after flights for more than 5 hours in total, WE WERE FINALLY HOME <3 <3 <3 welcomed by our families, who were ready to hear what we’d experienced for the last 5 dayssss!

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MY HEART IS FULL.

i can’t thank God enough for the opportunity for me to go there.

Manila is absolutely home away from home. everybody there is family whom i hold dear close in my heart <3

special shoutouts!

to the Salazars & the Dionglays for taking care of us there and managed everything to make sure we got back home safely.

to my fellow indonesian delegates; it was good to be with you guys again <3

to the 10Days team from Baguio, ate Rona, ate Sha, kuya Geoff, and Kneekie; thank you for slipping in time to reunite with us!

to the SWM16 10Days team; thank you for the delicious dinner and also tagging us along to your alumni reunion awww

to my ENC Pastor, my awesome uncle, Ps. Ari; for sending me <3

to my family for letting me do diz and made everything possible! IM SO GRATEFULLLLL <3

to Jj, Em and Ryan; LET’S CHANGE THE CAMPUS AND CHANGE THE WORLD.

have a sweet day.

xx,

Caramelly.

[aerialflight]

Moana Snippet

Well, I did it. I wrote a Moana thing. I haven’t written anything in a while, so I just wrote a little snippet on how Maui could’ve possibly met our favorite sentient Ocean. Hope you all enjoy! Comments and reblogs are everything.

The burning, scorching sun was the first thing to greet Maui when he first woke up. Blinking away the familiar feeling of sand latched onto his eyelashes, he got up, grimacing when he felt gritty sand irritate the back of his neck.

Impatiently brushing away the golden grains from his rumpled curls, he glanced around and felt dread start to pummel in his stomach.

Rocks. An island of stones and not a single coconut tree in sight.

Te Ka sure knew how to pick them.

“Perfect.” He grunted, dread twisting into anger and indignation. “I try to help mankind and what do I get? A vacation house made of pebbles? No boat, no fishhook-”

Everything suddenly screeched to a stop. Fear made its way down Maui’s spine along with denial.

The gods can’t be that cruel-

He bolted, trying to find the magical gift in vain, desperation fueling his need to search. The one thing that made him worth anything, his ticket to escaping, his reason for being. Hours blurred as he fruitlessly tried to find the familiar tool that was an extension of himself. It didn’t even cross his mind that Te Fiti’s heart was gone until much later.

Nothing. Nothing but a deserted island he’s been exiled to unfairly.

He dropped to his knees, unable to stand anymore. He glanced up, seeing the night sky with its vibrant stars twinkling back as if mocking him. A map he knew so intimately that it was seared into his mind, the knowledge completely useless to him without having any way to leave. Another method of torture, a reminder of how trapped he was.

He curled into himself, burying his head into his knees and wrapping his legs up like a lost child.

It was the longest night he’s ever faced.

Solitude was a slow, creeping thing that snuck up on him.

It was a fact he didn’t accept immediately.

At first, he howled until his voice got hoarse at the sea, a volcano exploding at every syllable as he cursed the gods and the damn Heart for having him stranded here. He threw rocks, ripped apart shrubs and tossed shells far into the water just to send the message much more thoroughly. It went on for weeks, months, (he wasn’t sure how long to be honest) before all his fury eventually depleted itself and left him frantic.

He begged like never before on his hands and knees with his head resting the sand. He bargained like the trickster he is, admitted his crimes as if it would absolve him, honest pleads stumbled off his tongue, yet nothing happened. The gods weren’t listening.

The fact sunk in and left him colder than the sea’s abyss.

He laid on his back by the beach, completely listless as hopelessness and depression ate away his usually gregarious personality. He stared up at the blue expanse, longing to fly his way out and feel the breeze flutter his feathers as he glided above the glittering ocean. The best of both worlds at his fingertips, a free spirit in every sense of the word.

Now, he was a literal caged bird, wings clipped by the gods who gifted it to him in the first place.

It was a fitting punishment.

It left a lingering, bitter taste in his mouth.

This phase, however, was a passing thing. He wouldn’t have survived this long if he let something like this stop him. Resourcefulness and making the best out of his circumstances was practically his origin story if you think about it.

He eventually got up and started to explore the sorry excuse of an island, noting dryly that there was absolutely nothing he could use to build a boat or any means of leaving.

After that, there was unfortunately not much else to do.

Boredom became an issue really, really quickly.

Time may pass strangely to a demigod – one time, he sailed at sea for an entire decade without resting and wouldn’t have realized it if it weren’t for the fact his boat started breaking apart from constant use and his heavy bulk – but it seemed to crawl after he ran out of things to do.

He wasn’t used to being this antsy, usually always on the move to explore new islands or battle monsters that terrorize helpless mortals who later tell stories of his heroics and deeds. It always left him feeling accomplished, the praises making him more daring to prove himself even further that he was worthy of such legends attached to his name. Worthy of being loved.

(But the starstruck expressions so full of awe and thanks only partially filled up that loneliness that has haunted his every step, leaving him craving for more.)

This overwhelming isolation has led him into the habit of talking to himself.

Well, technically his tattoo, but it was the same difference really. He only noticed the miniature cartoon version of himself coming to life when he felt an unnatural tug pull his bicep that completely startled the daylights out of him.

And no, he did not scream like a little girl, thank you very much.

Turns out he created his own companion. Which was pretty sad even by his standards. The fact it has quite an attitude and apparently liked to nag him a lot was something he was not going to inspect closely. It said things about himself that he created someone like that out of his longing for any form of interaction. It didn’t help that he was irrationally jealous of the fact the little guy has its own fishhook.

He was evidently losing it.

With nobody around, he found himself narrating his actions, bickering with the expressive Mini-Maui who disapproved of his tendency to use bad words when he stubbed his toes on rocks or hollered at the sky like a crazy person whenever a storm rumbled above and left him drenched.

It kept him busy when he told himself his own stories that people have created about him, as if he needed reminding on how awesome he was. It was amusing to watch the miniature tattoo figure dance and whack monsters on the head whenever he did, following the story with zealous enthusiasm.

Most of the time, he did this near the ocean during the day, the sight of the sea always calming the restlessness inside him. It was a comforting view, and he could almost imagine himself sailing across the great blue if he closed his eyes, hand touching the water to test its temperature and hear the crashing waves. His voice unconsciously grew deeper whenever he spoke, as if whispering secrets to the water as he wove tales that weren’t just about himself if he ran out of his own adventures – a rare occurrence – and describing terrible sea monsters parents told their children as bedtime stories.

(Not that he knew. He never knew his own.)

There were times he swore that the ocean was listening, an attentive presence that left him feeling comforted and less alone. By this point, he was accepting the probability he was going insane.

So slowly he didn’t even notice, he formulated a routine. He was coping to the best of his abilities, telling himself he’s biding his time and waiting for an opportunity to escape.

And when he fell into deep slumber that stretched on for what felt like months, he dreamed of flying.

It happened on an ordinary day that turned his world view upside down and left him hanging there continuously.

He was having one of his bad days, brooding by the shore with cynicism poisoning his heart. The cheerful sun irritated him and the sea breeze was incredibly annoying with how his hair kept slapping him in the face and leaving him wishing for a stronger hairband that didn’t consist of braided plant stems. They were snapping far too quickly, much to his aggravation.

Pint-sized Maui was looking up at him anxiously, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to sit down and do nothing, delve deep into his pondering thoughts and bury himself in resentment that was becoming more familiar to him by the day.

“Oh who am I kidding.” He was muttering to himself, scoffing. “Escaping? There’s no escaping this place. I’m just going to waste away here and all anyone’s going to say about me is,” he raised his voice into a falsetto, batting his eyelashes for effect. “‘Oh, Maui? You mean the demigod who screwed it up and died on a rock from utter boredom? Wow, he sounds sooo amazing!’”

He sighed, his spirits plummeting even further. “Yeah, real amazing. Amazing you’ll be remembered at all.”

That, more than anything, terrified him beyond anything the gods could throw at him. What if hundreds of years pass and everyone forgets him? What if he really was stuck here forever and slowly be driven insane until one day he won’t be able to take it anymore and drown himself?

It was a gloomy line of thought.

He was so busy frowning down at his lap that it took him a few minutes to realize that something was shading him from the sun. He looked up, expecting to see clouds in the sky even though he was pretty sure the sky was spotless the last time he checked, and was met with something completely impossible.

The ocean lifted itself up and was looking at him.

“Aaah!” Maui’s screech did not resemble a squawking chicken as he scrambled away from the shore so vigorously, he didn’t even notice how he scraped his hands and feet on the gritty gravel.

The towering wave – Head? Arm? What in gods name? – jerked back like it was startled by Maui’s very understandable reaction to an animated ocean. The two beings that existed beyond mortal comprehension went into a standoff, staring at each other for a very long moment before Maui registered the stinging hurt on his palms and soles. He winced, holding his hands up to see them angry red with little cuts all over his fingers and the insides of his wrists.

He glanced up from his inspection and barely managed not to back away again, heart jumping into his throat when the ocean wave came impossibly close to him by stretching itself ahead of the shore line.

By Papa, he never connected the word sneaky to the ocean before now. You learn something new every day.

Heck, he swore that the ocean was nearly hovering in worry with how intently it was focused on the angry, red lines that were starting to slightly bleed.

Maui was briefly struck with an absurd thought. Has it never seen blood before? But people have died at sea, impaled by their broken boats or eaten by monsters or thousands of other scenarios more serious than something this minor.

He was giving himself a headache.

“It’s no big deal.” He found himself saying. He didn’t know if he was telling this to himself, or attempting to reassure the blue, apparently sentient sea that may or not be a figment of his imagination. “This is nothing to the great Ma-aaa!”

He yowled as a blob of water suddenly consumed his feet, the salt bringing needles of ratcheting pain. He involuntarily curled his toes and tensed his shoulders from shock. The ocean quickly retreated, releasing its watery grip at his shouting.

“What was that for?” Maui yelled, flailing his hands with all the refinement of a jumping jellyfish. All his frustrations at his general situation, inconvenient injuries, and constant black mood bubbled to the surface and was now targeting itself at the overcasting water. “Is this a pastime of yours? No wonder people say you’re a sadistic-Hey!”

He lurched back his hands, dodging the wave that was determinedly darting towards his appendixes like a fruit fly to a rotting banana.

“Would you just-Why are you so-Son of a-”

He didn’t get to finish when the ocean literally splashed him hard on the cheek, momentarily stunning him from the unexpectedness of it, and victoriously engulfed his hands with sea water.

Maui hissed, a hundred piranhas biting his tough flesh before the sensation disappeared as abruptly as it came when the ocean withdrew. His eyes widened when he realized rather stupidly that all the sand that had been irritating the injuries were cleanly gone, a much smoother process than if he had done it manually.

“Oh.” He voiced out, the word uncharacteristically small. He looked up and felt any sense of gratitude die a ghastly death when he sensed smugness practically radiate off of the ocean’s head.

Scowling, he instinctively tried to shove the water away, which was kind of senseless in hindsight. He ended up getting his hand stuck in the suspended water with the associating pain of his wounds already something he was getting used to.

He half expected the ocean to let go or pull some sort of mischief over him. Instead, it slowly bobbed up and down with his hand following the motion, a strange gesture that bewilderingly resembled a gentle handshake.

Hello. It seemed to be trying to say. Or even, Nice to meet you.

And then just as gently, it let go of its hold and sunk back, becoming a small unnatural hump above the lapping waves, akin to a child peeking at him with a cautiousness that made guilt latch onto his conscience. He didn’t have to glance down to know Little Maui was looking up at him expectantly to make a move.

Maui sighed and rolled his shoulders, bracing himself.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.” He tried not to look down or cross his arms defensively. Pride and a lack of sustaining conversations made him unpracticed in the art of apologizing. “You didn’t deserve it.”

The sea seemed to go completely still, which was unsettling in how deliberate its lack of movement seemed to be. Maui’s not used to seeing the waters not be in constant flux, especially when he’s travelled across the waves countless times before. It finally rippled when a sudden stream of seawater hit him right in the face, breaking the tension effectively.

“You little-”

In the end, Maui had streaked into the ocean and spat out angry expletives in the water, uncaring and not noticing how much his feet stung for thumping on the sand so many times until afterwards. In response to his justifiable rage, the ocean kept dumping buckets of water on top of him or aimed at his ticklish armpits the moment he let his guard down.

When the rather one-sided battle was over, his hair was a mess and salt was permanently imbued in his scalp and locks, making it frazzled and smelling like fish. His feet and hands ached and itched, and he only got warm once he set a fire going as the skies darkened. Whatever brought the ocean to life had waded off and left him alone again, doing whatever it is annoying, lively oceans did.

He refused to think about the fact that not once did his sorry situation cross his mind during the entire day, having been fully distracted the whole time.

And hey, at least he learnt that the ocean was a mischievous brat instead of the wise, old revered force of nature everyone thought it was.

Who knew?