#they’re tying me to horses and making them run in opposite directions

[ickypuppi3]

people at work will be like oh hey why don’t you do this for me? :) and then when you go to do it they’re like haha you utter fool you blubbering idiot i was joking how could you not see that that was a joke are you stupid are you so so stupid kill yourself right n

[presumenothing]

wherefore // 几生轮回

unfinished nirvana in fire fic for @goodintentionswipfest​

(aka the kimi no na wa au that i posted the first part of in 2018 before being once again reminded that i am physically incapable of plot. sections i-iii are complete, rough outline follows afterwards)

i.

When Jingyan wakes up in another body, his first reaction is to be altogether grateful that he’s spent much more time at the borders and generally out of the capital than your average nobility. The slightest breath of unusually chilly morning air is enough to confirm that this is all the way to the border – of Liang and Da Yu, Jingyan suspects, much further north than even he’s ever gone.

(…well actually his first reaction is a flat startled “what”, right before he’d pinched himself to check if he’s still dreaming, but Jingyan figures anyone would’ve done the same anyway.)

The first bell of morning rings outside, and out of long habit Jingyan swings his feet off the bed and makes to rise before he can entirely realise what a terribly bad idea that is.

At least he manages to catch himself with a hasty hand on the bedframe. He’s even less coordinated than he was right after his growth spurt, when Jingyu-gege had kept a very straight face and not laughed at him at all.

That’s when Jingyan sees it: the ring of a silver bracelet around his ar– well, not his arm, but currently-his arm. Whatever.

He runs a light finger over the cool metal surface, over the deep grooves of an emblem that curls like flames and the shallower etch of a name. Lin Shu, it says.

Jingyan stands, properly this time, and goes to peer out the window, wondering if this Lin Shu can afford to take a day off. Whoever he is.

.

As it turns out, the answer to that is a resounding no, because Lin-Shu-whoever-he-is turns out to be the young marshal of this border army, as Jingyan swiftly finds out as he makes his way to morning drills.

Something he probably should’ve noticed right off, really, given the room he’d woken up in. Not large, certainly not by Jinling’s standards, but the noticeable lack of sharing made it a rare luxury in the barracks.

By the time he arrives at the training grounds, navigating purely on long-honed familiarity with army facilities, Jingyan’s already learnt to answer almost automatically to the many cheerful hails of “Young Marshal!” coming from the general outflow of people from the mess hall – many many more people than he’d been expecting, to be honest.

He doesn’t remember the actual numbers like Prince Qi probably does, but from personal experience Jingyan does know Da Liang’s border armies to be fairly impressive on the whole. Yet he’s never even heard of one this large, save perhaps Duke Mu’s army to the south.

It’s unmistakeably Liang’s colours they’re flying, though, alongside the same fiery emblem engraved on his bracelet, so Jingyan decides not to worry about it too much.

Either way it puts paid to his vague ideas of begging illness and staying firmly on the sidelines, though Jingyan finds to his pleasant surprise that this young marshal has trained some fairly competent lieutenants clearly capable of running the drills themselves.

It’s almost reminiscent of mornings in Jing Manor, honestly.

(And it could be worse, Jingyan thinks. “Young Marshal” is just a title, like “Your Highness” is, and after a whole life of answering to one it’s hardly a suffering to be addressed by the other – almost freeing, actually, even if he has to err on the side of caution by being much more taciturn than usual and hoping that the edge of exhaustion from sheer shock shows just enough to excuse him for it.

All said and done, though, Jingyan rather believes he’s done quite the good job of things.

Certainly better than whoever’s now in Jinling has probably managed, but as long as he hasn’t accidentally offended the Emperor or anything.

…Jingyan can only hope.)

–

ii.

This, as Jingyu-gege often says, is why Jingyan should never, ever jump to conclusions about things.

Admittedly this doesn’t backfire so much as it goes completely off the rails of his expectations, trundling like a particularly enthusiastic horse in the opposite direction.

Nothing terrible awaits when he wakes up back in his room the next morning, and a quick inquiry to Zhanying confirms that he definitely hadn’t entered the palace yesterday.

Jingyan breathes a deep if silent sigh of relief.

(A quick check of the outer walls turns up a scuff mark matching his shoe on the roof, so faint as to suggest that it’d only been left because someone obviously hadn’t entirely adjusted to his new height yet.

Fair enough, Jingyan thinks. He’d have done the same last night if he hadn’t been too tired from the sudden cold to sneak out and explore anywhere.

Maybe next time, he catches himself thinking, and pulls a face, because no, none of that.

That jinxes it right away, of course, as he promptly realises the morning after.

Jingyan stifles a shiver in the wintry sun, even colder now after a day in Jinling’s warmth, and thinks – really, Jingyu-gege would have a field day with this.)

.

Possibly the oddest thing about this, thinks Jingyan on the eighth day he wakes up at the border instead of Jinling, is that neither of them have ever thought to question, even once, whether this is really happening.

Or at least Jingyan hasn’t, and if Lin Shu’s wondered about it he hasn’t mentioned it either, at least not in the increasingly copious notes they’re leaving for each other.

They end up making a routine of things without much discussion about it, even though the setup in each of their rooms almost mirrors the other. Jingyan begins to stock more scrolls of paper and sticks of ink at his desk, keeps their correspondence in a hidden drawer within easy reach of his chair.

But Lin Shu apparently fears the cold as little as his relatively thin wardrobe would suggest, because his stationery inevitably is set up at the low table with only a cushion to sit on – admittedly quite a comfortable one, yes, but still unseasonably chilly for the stone floor.

Either way, what had started out as a simple way to update each other on the day’s events devolves into something else altogether, and Jingyan can even pinpoint the moment it happened: when Lin Shu had added also stop wearing my hair down you’re making me look like an idiot as an afterthought on the third entry, followed by oh and don’t eat hazelnuts squashed into too few inches of space.

Jingyan’s learnt enough of medicine from his mother not to take the second part lightly, but the first almost tempts him into putting a flower in Lin Shu’s hair just because.

But only almost.

Then you stop tying my hair all up like that first, he adds to his next summary, it’s giving me a headache.

The palace would give anyone a headache, he finds written almost musingly in the reply margin.

Jingyan rubs at his temple, and finds that he can’t even argue with that, really. So instead he pulls up a fresh sheet of paper and quickly outlines the basics of court etiquette, because the Emperor’s probably going to end up summoning Jingyan while he literally isn’t himself one of these days, if this is going to continue.

He has a feeling it will.

.

It takes Jingyan a whole month of alternating days to admit, not quite grudgingly, that he is rather impressed by the fact that Lin Shu is already the young marshal of such a large army at this age.

In his defense, he’d rather naturally assumed the worst when he first found out that Lin Shu was the son of the commander himself, but that was before seeing the genuine respect rather than mere tolerance he got from every last man in the army, even those thrice either his or Lin Shu’s age.

(It’s the Chiyan Army, Lin Shu writes back, the very turn of each stroke arrow-sharp with irritation. Chiyan! Army! Will you get it right, it’s not just any army!

And I’m literally a prince, Jingyan snipes back in his most practiced handwriting. Also, if you’re insulting my men…

Hardly. Zhanying deserves a pay raise and a better boss, Lin Shu answers, then adds, pointedly, Your Highness.

Probably just so he could use up the last bit of paper.

Jingyan scowls at that last scrawl before pulling out yet another fresh sheet and dipping his brush in ink.

As if he’s going to let anyone have the last word over him quite so easily.)

–

iii.

“I didn’t know you liked archery, Prince Jing-gege,” says Nihuang one afternoon when they’re resting in his manor’s study after an impressive practice bout. The young duchess Mu had gotten quite formidable enough to attract the rapt attention of the entire training field – or she would have, if Zhanying hadn’t promptly barked at all of them to get back to their drills right then.

(It’d almost tempted Jingyan into asking, really, whether Zhanying had noticed anything different about his fighting style on the days when it’d been Lin Shu instead.

Not that Zhanying necessarily knew anything, per se – but from the subtly helpful way in which his general had volunteered information that Lin Shu’s writings occasionally failed to convey, between the carelessly precise updates and snarky comments in the margins… Jingyan rather thought he did suspect something, at least.

Wei Zheng was the same, up north at the border, which was just as well.

Lin Shu doesn’t know how good he has it, really, that the Jing army has closer to seven hundred men than seventy thousand – all of whom apparently assume that their young marshal will recognise them. Which says something fairly impressive about Lin Shu, of course, but still. How fortunate for him.)

Both their fathers have been closed up in Yangju Hall all day long – all the palace servants had been dismissed, and he’d heard that even Xia Jiang and Xie Yu had been summoned in.

Whatever it is they’re discussing must be important indeed, he knows. It’s hardly unusual, for both the Marquis of Ning and the Xuanjing Bureau’s head officer to meet the Emperor, but Jingyan doesn’t think he’s ever seen the Duke of Yunnan even half as stern as when he’d arrived this time, both his children firmly in tow.

Mu Qing had been unabashedly cheerful as always, and easy enough to handle – Aunt Liyang had been more than happy to help. It wasn’t like two more kids running around the house would trouble her much further, anyway, what with Yan Yujin already practically living there half the time.

But Nihuang had declined her offer politely before asking to see the Jing manor’s grounds, which is how she’d ended up here, hands clasped behind her back as she considers the red bow in pride of place on his weapons rack.

At least the sparring earlier had worn away most of the tension in her features, though Jingyan can still see the trace of it in the graceful stiffness of her posture, and wonders silently if she too feels the same thing he does, the slight wrongness in the air.

He shrugs anyway, trying for relaxed. “I got back into practicing it over the past couple months. It’s quite a bit more enjoyable now that I actually have enough strength to draw the string back fully.”

Which is completely true, even if he’d only had reason to discover it because Lin Shu’s weapon of choice is bow and arrow, as Jingyan had found to his utter surprise.

Nothing like muscle memory when the muscles weren’t even yours to begin with – though he supposes that it’s a fair trade, since Lin Shu’s also had to up his own proficiency with swords and spears to match Jingyan’s.

Neither does he mention that he’d only bought this bow on a whim because it reminded him of the one Lin Shu used. A resemblance that the young marshal had swiftly noticed, from the way he’d filled entire swathes of paper with gleeful gloating, only punctuated by a brief note on how he’d restrung it and adjusted the tension to match.

(Jingyan had kindly reminded Lin Shu about the fact that he’d gone and taken one whole day off to go diving for pearls that time the Jing army had been at Donghai, apparently having completely forgotten that he wouldn’t be able to bring the pearl back with him anyway.

The answering blankness had somehow conveyed a very mulish silence nevertheless.

Jingyan had rolled his eyes before writing if you really want it back I can always ask a courier to bring it over, it’ll just take time to reach the border.

And money, came the reply, or do you think I’ve no idea how much it costs to send something from Jinling? Nah, just keep it and go spend that money on food instead, you’re like a stick.

You’re just jealous because I’m taller, Jingyan does not answer, because he can be the better person here, so instead he writes Tried my mother’s hazelnut pastries yet?)

Nihuang gives him an inscrutably knowing look, even though Jingyan’s plenty sure he hasn’t shown any signs of his thoughts. “Maybe you should teach Qing-er then,” she muses as she comes back down to sit at the table. “The way he’d always playing around, I don’t know if he realised that he’s going to take over Father’s position someda– huh.”

Jingyan glances up from where he’s pouring out another glass of cold water, and finds her attention apparently caught by the documents he’d left out on the desk. “What is it?”

At his nod of permission Nihuang lifts a half-familiar paper from the stack, and there’s a brief moment of alarm when he spots Lin Shu’s handwriting, though it fades when he realises it’s not one of their written conversations.

Luckily Nihuang doesn’t notice either way, too intent on reading. “This naval strategy…” she finally says, “it’s just like the one we received some time ago, when Yunnan was under attack by river.”

Jingyan doesn’t need to feign his surprise. “Really?”

Nihuang nods, smiling faintly. “It saved all of our lives.”

“Oh,” Jingyan answers a little dumbly, his mind spinning. All of this is quite real, obviously, everything has convinced him of that, but for some reason it hadn’t struck him how Lin Shu too existed in this same world as him, more than just another body he sometimes woke up in. Rather slow of him, he thinks wryly, Lin Shu would have a laughing fit if he found out.

The specifics of this paper escape him now – it’d been part of some grand point Lin Shu had been trying to make, he thinks, as if they didn’t both know he was just cribbing the strategy from Nie Duo – but Jingyan doesn’t even need to look at the paper to see that familiar handwriting half his own. “Do you know who sent it?”

Nihuang shakes her head, her expression clouding over. “Father refused to tell me who’d sent it, forbade me from even mentioning it to Qing-er.”

And as if everything’s just been waiting for this last piece to fall into place, Jingyan feels the thing niggling at the edge of his consciousness, just out of realisation.

“Jingyan-gege…” Nihuang says, slow and terribly hesitant, “what do you know about the northern b–”

“Your Highness!” comes Qi Meng’s harried shout from outside, and Jingyan has never been more infuriated with any of his men in his life. “Duke Mu is here, he says the Duchess is to go with him immediately!”

Jingyan looks across the table to find his own frown reflected fiercely back at him.

Nihuang rises, looking suddenly older than she is, and says, quietly, “Be careful, Jingyan-gege. I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I,” Jingyan says honestly, and doesn’t press her for whatever it was she had been about to ask earlier. He stands to see her out. “You be careful, too.”

Nihuang nods firmly, then she turns and is gone.

(Spoke with Nihuang today, Jingyan writes before going to bed that night. I don’t think you’ve met her yet, she’s the daughter of the Duke of Yunnan.

You know, he finds written beneath it the next time he wakes up in his own room, it’s been a whole year and that’s the first I’ve heard you talk about any lady. And don’t say Xia Dong, she’s just terror manifest.

The raised eyebrow is clearly audible, even via text.

Jingyan snorts, grabbing the brush that sits ready and waiting, as always. Nonsense, he starts, then pauses for a moment before adding I think you’d like her.

He’s looking oddly forward to the reply, whatever it is: which one, and don’t say Xia Dong or even well certainly she’ll like me, all the girls do – though the last of that is nonsense, seeing as there aren’t really any more ladies hanging around the border pass than in Jing Manor.

But he never hears from Lin Shu again.)

–

iv.

Jingyan still finds himself in his room when he wakes up the next day.

And the next, and the next after that.

(On the eighteenth morning in a row he remains stubbornly stuck in Jinling’s oppressive warmth Jingyan punches the wall so hard it almost cracks cleanly in half – or maybe that’s just him.

Zhanying hurries up, voice tinged with ill-concealed worry. “Your Highness?” he says tentatively, except the words themselves feel like a shackle now.

Jingyan leans just slightly against the cool smoothness of the wood, and tells himself to breathe.

“Zhanying,” he says, finally, “what do you know about the northern border army?”

It’s the Chiyan Army, not just any old military! echoes Lin Shu’s voice in his head.

“…not much,” hedges Zhanying, and it clearly isn’t a lie but his eyes are also very wide.

The wrongness from before congeals into an ugly mess, settles decidedly in his heart. It’s the only thing he can be sure of not imagining.

Jingyan suddenly feels very tired indeed. “It’s nothing.”)

–

v.

And then he finds out in the worst way possible: far too late, and all at once.

.

.

.

would have been: jingyan finding out the truth about what’s been happening, which is fairly true to kimi no na wa canon except that it’s everything at meiling instead of a meteor extinction event. in jingyan’s present time he finds the lin manor in absolute disrepair, asks questions of his mother that make both of them sad, and eventually forces a bodyswap to save lin shu and the chiyan army by… using the pearl somehow? and how would he stop this single-handedly anyway? never quite managed to figure either part out. though on his side lin xie is shown to also have realised Something was going on with lin shu (like zhanying realised about jingyan) and even if he doesn’t buy the “hey i’m from the future” shtick, he at least would be willing to hear out someone with a good idea of what’s currently happening in the capital, which helps.

anyway there would’ve been one section where we finally get lin shu’s pov which is when he realises what This Bloody Idiot xiao jingyan is trying to do and curses up a blue streak. from there this could’ve had one of two endings:

a HE where jingyan succeeds, lin shu and the chiyan army survives, and they forget but eventually find each other again (after remembering when jingyan sees lin shu doing archery or vice versa).

or a BE where jingyan doesn’t succeed and we end up right back in the canon timeline, dammit guys. optional extra being that changsu remembers for some reason even though jingyan doesn’t… but sometimes, jingyan can’t help thinking that changsu reminds him of someone. a person he’d forgotten? angst ensues. the end.

[writeanapocalae]

Nano Last Updated 12/11/2012 Part 44

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43

He was lying. Sanks stifled a smile. Crin was being smart, not letting on to what he knew.

“Is it some kind of award?” he titled his head, all innocent and naïve. The brightness of his eyes was the only thing that was giving him away but no one seemed to be noticing it.

“It’s a mark.” The armored man explained, “It’s for showing who’s a nonhuman, you know what those are, right?”

Crin shook his head, wide eyes and entranced. Sanks was glad for it. He was doing his best to keep them both safe and it was working.

“They’re monsters, savages that prey upon mankind.”

“Sanks is not a monster!” the words were sharp and edged and Crin was sitting straight on the NHPF horse. He was anger and defensive, a different side showing than Sanks was used to. The man was amazed. He didn’t know if Crin was really this good at acting or what.

“See that droplet?” the officer pointed out, “That symbolizes that he drinks something of people, of innocent human beings. My guess is that he’s an incubus, a vampire, or maybe a jade, you can never tell when they’re wearing disguises. They may look human, may pretend to be human, but they’re not, they’ve only got one thing in mind, eating people.”

Crin stared at Sanks, his own disguise perfectly set, “Is that true, Sanks? Are you a monster?”

“I would never hurt you Crin.” Sanks promised, “I only wanted to get you home. I’m not a monster!”

“Will someone shut him up?” the officer glared at him.

The remaining one, the one beside Sanks, climbed off of his massive steed and wrenched Sanks’ hand behind his back, tying them together far too tightly. He winced at the treatment but didn’t say a word, didn’t want to make anything worse.

“What are you going to do to him?” Crin demanded.

“Don’t worry; he’ll be taken into custody with us where he will have a trial for his crimes without a jury. He may be sentenced to death or he may be put to work with us. He’ll never be set free to threaten your life again.” The leader assured Crin.

The boy panicked and knocked himself off of the horse. He landed on his side and winced, the wound to his gut flaming up in pain. Sanks was once again on his feet, tethered to the saddle of the horse that was still beside him, although it was not happy with the arrangement. It wanted to be as far away from Sanks as possible. He stared at Crin, amazed at what he was going through for him.

“No! You leave him alone!” Crin cried out as he pulled himself to his feet, clutching at his abdomen, “He has done no crime against me or you! He’s innocent! He protected me against those bandits and the strange men in the forest! He was taking me home.”

“What are you?” the guard who had tied Sanks to the horse glared at him, “Have you been brainwashing the led?”

“No.” Sanks shook his head. He just wanted this whole thing to be over, “I’m a vampire. I don’t have any way to brainstorm.”

“You could’ve bought a potion from a witch.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll keep it in mind for next time.”

That got him a hard smack against the back of his head, not that it surprised him. He shouldn’t have tried to talk back, should have shut up and just let them do what they wanted. That was the only way he would be able to survive this ordeal.

Crin reached Sanks’ side and kept a hard eye on the guards, standing between the two parties. He was protecting him, when Sanks was the one who was supposed to keep Crin safe. Crin wasn’t going to let them take him easily.

“Don’t.” Sanks whispered to him, “I’m not worth your death and they are not horribly afraid of killing you. Just go with them, I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t.” There was a choked sound to Crin’s words, “They’re going to kill you or enslave you. You’ll never get away from them alive.”

“And that is my problem.” Sanks smiled at him softly, “Just go. We may see each other again, especially if you rule as you should not as your father has. I have faith in you.”

“Your faith is not well placed.”

A guard grabbed Crin and dragged him away from his bound charge, causing him to squeak with surprise and a tinge of pain. Sanks growled at him, a threat in his lungs, that the guard understood easily. Don’t hurt Crin or Sanks would rip him apart.

“Come on.” The guard was more gentle now, holding onto his arm and leading him back to the horse, “You’re safer with us. We’ll get you home by nightfall.”

Crin was silent, but he twisted his neck around, all of the questions and fears for his future in the front of his mind, in the bumps of his tongue. He needed Sanks, needed to know what to do with himself now that he wasn’t a human being. He needed help ruling, help being a man, help growing up, and help not growing into his father. Sanks would not be there for him.

Sanks would never be there. He hung his head and tried not to feel the desperate stare on his back. All of those things he had promised, he had failed every one.

The guard helped Crin back onto his horse and the majority of the party took off, heading back down the road. Crin wanted to say his goodbyes but he couldn’t, he couldn’t betray his station and he couldn’t betray his species. He had to pretend to be human. Sanks knew how hard it would be, the blood running through the horse just beneath him.

He was surprised that the horse wasn’t panicking, trying to throw him off, but he supposed that Crin’s body hadn’t fully changed yet, that he hadn’t begun to smell like he was something other than human. That was good at least, would protect him a little bit longer.

He watched them go off, becoming smaller as the space between them grew and then there was a tug at his wrists. Slumped and empty he followed the horse as it walked down the road in the opposite direction. There was another guard behind him, riding a bit too close for comfort, and Sanks had a feeling that he had something nasty in mind for him. He tried to ignore the feeling, tried to ignore all of his emotions as he followed in line with his captors.

He was resigned and calm, not looking where he was going. He didn’t have anything to see. He just walked as fast as they demanded, expecting to be dragged sooner than later, and tried to push all thoughts of Crin from his mind.

The boy was smart and he had grown up a lot in their short time together. He was sure that he would be fine.

[sequoiann]

abracadabra

pairing: minghao x reader genre: medieval, wizard!minghao, fluff, fantasy word count: 3.5k

synopsis: you somehow decided it was a good idea to take your horse through the woods, a shortcut to get to the village you needed to go to. you get chased by wolves and  flew off your horse, andd you black out. minghao takes you in to take care of you.

“See you soon, Mother,” you said a little lifelessly as you heard your horse grunt, gently brushing her hooves against the pebbled ground. Your mother smiles and pulls you into a hug, one that showed her subtle worry, as her warmth spread to you.

“Be safe, alright?” she muttered for the umpteenth time, letting you go as you nodded. “I’ve put some food in your sack and some money just in case you need it.”

You widened your eyes in surprise, immediately bringing the dirty-brown sack which was slung across your back to your front, untying it. “I don’t need the extra money, Mom! You already put some in the bag,” you exclaimed, directing it at the woolen bag that slung over your horse, danging at the side of her neck. “And you only told me to buy a few items from the village. I’m sure a few veggies and a pan doesn’t cost a hundred shillings.”

“Just for emergencies, Y/N!” your mother said, her hands swiftly tying up your sack again. “Go on your way now, I don’t want you to still be traveling when the sun sets.”

You pressed your lips into a hesitant line, but your mother simply shook her head in assurance before nodding towards your horse, Cleo, who was patiently waiting for you. You sighed and walked over to Cleo, mounting it and holding onto the reigns lightly as you knew Cleo wasn’t one to go crazy and start running around on her own will. You’ve been with her for as long as you could remember — she’s really your best friend. She could be an aggressive being to strangers, but she’s the nicest sweetheart to you.

“Alright girl, off we go,” you mumbled as you lightly swung the reigns, and she turns around, walking calmly to the road.

“Remember not to take the shortcut!” you heard your mother call, and you replied with a loud “Alright!”

The sun somehow seemed to set faster than usual that day, and you were met with moonlight darkness before you even reached the three-quarter mark of your journey. You had pulled your maroon coat over your body, buttoning the clasp loosely around your neck, but the material wasn’t thick enough to help much in keeping you warm. A flock of birds suddenly cawed and took flight from a tree, making you jump slightly. “Jesus.” Cleo immediately deterred away from the tree instinctively to your surprised mutter.

“Sorry,” you said quietly to Cleo whom you assumed was starting to feel cold too, your hand gently brushing through her mane. “We should’ve left a little earlier, shouldn’t we?”

Cleo huffs quietly in response, quickening her steps. You chuckle and let out an exasperated breath, your eyes scanning the void road in front of you and the forested path to your left and right.

A few more minutes of trotting down the path you were taking, you tugged lightly on the reign. “Hold on.”

Cleo comes to a slow stop, and your eyes look towards the woods on your left. You knew that this was a shortcut to the village you had to reach, and it would cut the journey time by a whole lot if you went this way.

“Can we go this way instead, Cleo?” you asked a bit unsurely as you peered into the eerie darkness of the woods. Cleo grumbled, almost offensively, as she started gaiting down the original path you were supposed to take. 

“Hey!” you exclaimed, pulling onto the reign firmly, but not too hard to hurt her. She snorts again as she halted, her head turning to look into the forest. You could practically feel her doubt.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured half-heartedly, trying to make yourself sound as convincing as possible. “We did it before… I mean, it was in daylight, but still!”

Cleo seemed to give up going against your decision as she remained silent. Her head constantly looking around was the only response.

“Quick, let’s go before it gets even darker,” you urged. “If that’s even possible.”

Cleo huffs and turns towards the woods, taking tentative steps as she made her way onto the soil and into the densely vegetated land, fog dancing on the ankle-level surface.

“Cleo?” you muttered, scanning your surroundings as calmly as you could, in contrast to your heart rate which had seemed to pick up. “Did you— Did we turn the wrong way or something?”

Cleo neighed softly, sounding as confused as you were. You two had been in the forest for a good 25 minutes, but by right, the shortcut wasn’t even supposed to take more than fifteen minutes of walking by foot.

Out of the blue, you heard a low growl come from behind you, and you tugged on the reign to make Cleo turn around. She did so by herself anyway — she heard it too. Your heart was palpitating, your palms sweaty and your knuckles white from gripping onto the ropes too tightly. You squinted your eyes and tried to identify the source of the noise, and you see two pairs of eyes staring right at you, before they barred their sharp teeth.

Wolves.

“Shit!” you cursed, turning Cleo around and lowering your body to keep your balance as she started galloping in the opposite direction. Why here? Since when did wolves reside in this forest? You knew wild boars and dogs did, but wolves? No one ever warned you of them.

You could tell Cleo was panicking more than you did — she was running so fast and swerving to avoid every tree so sharply that you were starting to slip off her back.

“Cleo!” you exclaimed, quickly shifting so that you were sitting properly on the saddle again, this time lowering yourself completely such that you were lying down on her mane.

You turned around and could see the wolves still hot on her heels.

Cleo suddenly makes an abrupt and sharp turn, and you were sent flying off her back and landing — no, rolling — across the ground, on a pile of fallen leaves and soil. Your arm hits and grazes on something hard and rough — you guessed for it to be the protruding root of a tree — and you let out a grunt before everything turned black.

When you woke up, you immediately felt unfamiliar with your surroundings. You were no longer lying on the mushy, uncomfortable surface of damp soil layered with dried leaves. Your back was rested on a soft, multi-colored bed, a quilt blanket covering you up to your abdomen.

You inherently pushed yourself up from the bed, your locked elbows instantly bending when you felt a sharp pain shoot up your left arm. You looked down and saw a raw and angry-looking wound stretching up your upper arm. The surrounding skin was bloody, and you looked away. It was gross.

Your doubtful self scanned the place you were in. It was a small cottage, cozy and simple, the walls made of the same wood and the roof clearly stone. A warm and inviting fireplace sat a distance away from the bed you were on, and you were in wonder of how it did not burn down the whole place.

You started questioning why you were here, and how you ended up here. The events that occurred presumably not long ago started piecing themselves together in your mind, and you widened your eyes in realization.

You pulled the quilt off of your body with your unharmed right hand, swinging your legs off the bed and placing them down on the firm, wooden floor and ignoring the same pain shooting up one of your legs and the soreness in your knees as you made your way towards the door.

A man appears from a hidden corner (you weren’t able to see him from where you were on the bed), his eyes widening in surprise for a moment, but he quickly collects himself.

“You woke up a lot faster than I thought you would,” the light-haired man said, his voice gentle.

“I’m sorry,” you said a half-sincere apology, walking past him and towards the door. He easily caught up with you and stood in front of you, blocking your way. Your wounds were proving themselves to become a handicap and an inconvenience.

“Hey, calm down, you’re still injured,” he said. “Where are you trying to go?”

“My horse,” you said curtly, not really caring if he could comprehend your brief reply. His puzzled look melts into a small smile. “She’s fine, don’t worry,” he told you. “She can eat carrots and cabbages, right? I don’t exactly have hay or horse food.”

You frowned slightly and slowly nodded, still suspicious. “Let me see her.”

“And if I do, would you stay a little longer so I can do something about those?” he asked, directing his words at your wounds, and you were grateful that he put it into a question instead of a command. 

“Yeah, okay, fine. Now where’s she?”

The man was about to lead you outside when you saw a head poke in through one of the cottage windows — Cleo’s head, to be precise — as she looked around for you. You let out a sigh of relief as you limped over, wrapping your arms around her neck and patting her as you always would. The window was apparently big enough for Cleo’s head to easily fit in, and you could see that her body was free of any cuts or wounds at all. You could see the remnants of orange and green on her mouth. Her shiny fur was still the same, except for a few dirt marks which you knew you didn’t have to be worried about.

“There,” the man said, smiling. “You’ve seen her, now sit back down.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Oh, right,” he said. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Minghao, nice to meet you.”

“…Y/N,” you said, shaking his extended hand. “Why are you here? I mean, why is your cottage in the middle of the woods? There’s a village right nearby, isn’t there?”

“Mhmm,” Minghao hummed, gently holding onto your right arm as he carefully helped you back to the bed. You sat down on it and crossed your legs, and Minghao sits down too. “I’m guessing that’s where you were headed?”

“Before I nearly got eaten by wolves, yes.”

“Sorry. They’re just protective of the territory,” Minghao explained, chuckling. You wanted to ask why he was talking as if they were his friends, but you didn’t put it in words.

“You haven’t answered my first question,” you reminded as Minghao grabbed a damp washcloth from the table beside the bed. “Why’re you in the middle of nowhere?”

“I live here,” he responded simply, taking your injured arm and carefully bringing the cloth closer to your open wound. You shut yourself up for a moment as you tensed up, biting your lips in to hold back the yelp you were sure you’d let out. 

“Endure it for a bit,” Minghao said. “I’ll get you something to numb the pain for a while later. I need to clean the blood and dirt off first. I thought you’d be asleep till later.”

“You have something to numb the pain?” you asked. “Are you a doctor?”

Minghao smiles slightly, but it seemed to be a bitter smile as he shook his head, pressing the cloth onto your wound as lightly as he could and started wiping away the blood stains. You clenched your fists and squeezed your eyes shut as the stinging pain spread through your entire arm. You had random bursts of ‘can you hurry?’ — the pain was nearly unbearable.

“We’re done. With the cleaning part, at least,” Minghao said after a few more moments. “And no, I’m not a doctor. Quite the opposite actually. I’m a witch. Or wizard. Whichever sits better with you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stuttered. “A witch?”

“Yeah,” Minghao said easily, grabbing a vial from the table which contained a clear, blue liquid. “Don’t your parents tell you bedtime stories about us?” he joked.

You swallowed as you recalled the fear your felt whenever your mother warned you about the wicked things that witches do. You didn’t really believe in them as you grew up, but there was this lingering feeling at the back of your mind that did regularly remind you that they might be out there.

“Here’s the… DIY version of an anesthetic,” Minghao said, handing the vile to you. “Or whatever you humans call it.”

You took it, but didn’t drink it. You hadn’t trusted him completely just yet.

Minghao rolled his eyes, reading the suspicion you had from your expression. “I would’ve much rather saved myself the effort and left you out there.”

He did have a point.

“I promise it just does the job of numbing the pain, that’s all. You either drink that or endure the pain while I treat your wounds, Y/N,” Minghao said pointedly, crossing his legs on the bed like you did to face you. “Your choice.”

You eyed the liquid and scrunched your nose. “The whole bottle?” you asked meekly.

“Just half would be enough for now.”

You grumbled softly and gulped it down until only half the bottle was left. It tasted like a subtle version of saltwater.

“Great.”

Minghao proceeds to apply all sorts of weird herbs and stuff onto your wound, and you honestly couldn’t feel the pain or anything else except for the slight feeling of him pressing onto your skin.

After he was done, you could tell that the wound was indeed less inflamed. Your knees didn’t have to be treated much; there were just minor scratches.

You cautiously scanned the cottage again, trying to pick up any signs of irregularity or anything unordinary. But other than the vials and bottles of colored liquid placed on the tabletop and the fact that the place was situated somewhere deep in the woods, everything else resembled a normal household. Were witches really evil? You questioned that. You had never once heard a single story of witches with a good heart. It was always about them kidnapping people and putting hexes on them. And them throwing snakes and frogs and gross stuff into large, earthen pots to create poison. Even though all those recollections happened, you felt strangely… calm. Why is that? The normal you would’ve ran out of here.

“Why have you gone quiet?” he suddenly asked, his eyes still down, focused on whatever he was doing.

You snapped out of your trance and cleared your throat. “Nothing. Just… thinking.”

Minghao hummed a low tone, something you noticed he did often. “About what?”

“…Witches.”

Minghao chuckled, putting the little pot that he had in his hands away. “About me?”

“No!” you exclaimed a bit too quickly. “Just witches in general.”

“If you’re a witch, though,” you started, and Minghao hums again, looking up at you halfway through wrapping your arm in bandages. You were surprised by the sudden eye contact  — you realized you had been looking at the crown of his head this whole time while he was treating your wounds. You looked away, feelings the tips of your ears tingle.

“I mean, don’t witches have those kinds of huge, black pots? With like misty stuff flowing from it?”

Minghao laughed, his eyes sparkling as he shook his head. His laughter was musical. “No, Y/N, those are just in the storybooks.”

“Then do you guys have, like, parrots as pets? Broomsticks? No?”

Minghao laughed once again, his eyes turning into small crescents as he looked at you softly, like you were an innocent child. “None of those. And I’m pretty sure parrots belong to pirates, not us.”

“Oh, right.”

You pouted a bit as Minghao finished up with the bandages.

“We’ve got those to fix too,” Minghao suddenly said, and you looked up at him.

“Huh?”

His finger circles around his own face as he gestured that you had cuts on your face too. Your hands immediately flew to your face, but Minghao grabs you by your wrist before you could touch your wounds.

“Don’t touch,” he said, and you felt goosebumps on your neck from how he was intently scrutinizing your face.

This boy was beautiful, you dare say from how close he was. And although you’d just met him.

Minghao picked up the washcloth again, turning it over to the clean side as he moved in closer, and you intuitively leaned back. Minghao chuckles when he sees your reaction and he moves back a bit, before placing a gentle hand on your lower back and pushing you forward again, closer to him. “Stay still.”

He started cleaning up the cuts on your face, mostly on your cheek and forehead.

“You’re pretty,” he suddenly said unwaveringly, causing you to blink a couple of times in surprise. 

“Huh?”

“That’s the second time you’re saying that,” Minghao pointed out cheekily. “I’m just saying you’re pretty. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a lady like you around.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” you muttered, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how red your cheeks were becoming.

Minghao smiles and continues cleaning up the cuts, and you knew that the blue potion thing was starting to wear off. You could feel the slight sting.

“Done!” he said. “The cuts are pretty small, so we can just leave them alone to heal.”

You nodded. “Thank you. Like really. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Minghao said, getting up from the bed. “We’ve got to get you back to the village, right?”

“I mean, yeah, of course…” you trailed off, your uncertain eyes traveling to the darkness outside as you recalled the incident that happened just a while ago. You felt your heart beat faster, your hands becoming clammy as adrenaline rushed through you.

Minghao was quick to correct himself. “Not now. Tomorrow, I mean. Stay here for the night. We don’t need you getting hurt again, do we?”

You heaved a sigh of relief, nodding.

Wait.

“Stay here?”

“There isn’t really anywhere else you can go, Y/N,” Minghao said pointedly. “Just rest. I won’t do anything. I’ll get outside if that makes you feel better. Witches don’t really need much sleep, and we can become nocturnal.”

“No, don’t go out,” you quickly said, resisting the urge to grab his arm to make him stay. “I mean, you can not go out, I don’t mind that, but you could if you want to, I mean…”

Minghao laughs quietly — the laugh was in his eyes, in the way his face changed into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth, and you felt your stomach do a couple backflips. ���You can just tell me directly, Y/N.”

You sighed and lay back down on the bed, shifting yourself to your side, your back facing him as you tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The fine hair on your back constantly stood on end every time a memory from the incident came to your mind. “Nevermind.”

You heard Minghao’s soft chuckle again as it came from behind you, and you felt the bed behind you dip down slightly. You intuitively turned around, and to your surprise, Minghao was sitting on the wooden floor beside the bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the bed with his chin propped on it.

You laughed. “What’re you doing?”

“You’re scared,” he said, blinking. “Like, really scared.” You pressed your lips together. A witch knows everything, indeed.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. You couldn’t help but notice how his hands were the perfect combination of soft and rough. “I lied, actually,” he started softly.

“Hm?”

“The blue potion, it wasn’t just acting as an anesthetic,” he admitted. “I didn’t want you to be scared of me.”

No wonder, you thought. You knew your calmness and diverted focus from running from this stranger to melting into his attractive looks wasn’t natural. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. You shook your head, finding yourself to trust him faster than you should. You did believe he had a good heart.

Minghao smiles. “Go to sleep now. I’ll bring you to the village tomorrow.”

You let your eyes flutter close at his reassuring words, and sleep came so quickly that the back of your mind wondered if the potion had its sleeping effects too. And you weren’t sure but you thought you felt Minghao pull the quilt blanket higher, tucking you in as he continued holding your hand

[sussex-nature-lover]

Sunday 3rd January 2021

Review of the Year Q3. July, August, September 2020

The weather stayed good and we were very glad to be able to get outdoors and to see so many visitors to the garden, even if some of them were rather naughty.

Question: when are squirrels well behaved?

Answer: let me know when you find out.

2020 was a huge year for Deer in the garden and they hardly seemed bothered by us at all. Sometimes they come alone and sometimes in a group. So called Hooves of Fire wrecked the seed tray and kept churning up the grass. If we can get that sorted this year, just a year behind schedule, we will. Given all the Pheasants and the Deer, it seems a bit of a forlorn hope but we’ll see.

Forlorn. Hah!

17th July saw Captain Tom Moore knighted at Windsor Castle in a socially distanced, outdoor ceremony (scene portrayed by models)

23rd July was my birthday 

As a rule the family would gather and we’d have a nice social time. This year we sat at one side of our front porch and Ms NW tY stopped by after work for a drink and some nibbles. She was seated at the opposite side of the porch like we’d sent her to Coventry.

The origins of this phrase aren't known beyond doubt, although it is quite probable that events in Coventry in the English Civil War in the 1640s are the source.

For those not familiar with the UK, Coventry is an industrial city in Warwickshire, England. It is well-known for its two cathedrals; the modern cathedral being built in 1962 to replace the old cathedral, which was destroyed during an intense German bombing raid in 1940.

In the 17th century, when this phrase is supposed to have originated, Coventry was a small town. It has been suggested that the phrase, which we now use figuratively, originated from people being actually sent there.

The story is that Cromwell sent a group of Royalist soldiers to be imprisoned in Coventry, around 1648. The locals, who were parliamentary supporters, shunned them and refused to consort with them.

Over the year I took a few photos that formed a kind of series. One was Birds on the Line - very popular locations, as shown by these Starlings. I did capture rather a lot of Wood Pigeons and Crows though despite my best efforts to find something a little more exotic.

Male Common Darter at Bateman’s NT

There were plenty of posers around for me including Dragon and Damselflies on a bench at Bateman’s. Seeing the new Cheviots up at the farm was a surprise and below, the young Kestrels were comical, striding up and down the barn roof.

Blue Tit on the Christmas Tree

It’s always quite lovely to see the fledglings thrive and 2020 was a good year for Tits and Robins.

Juvenile Robin

We probably made a lot more use of the garden last Summer, as we couldn’t go anywhere else much and the conditions became quite like being away-away.

I also learnt quite a lot about nature in 2020, it was a combination of having a Guru on Twitter to run all my queries by and doing a lot of internet research. One of my discoveries was about Great Spotted Woodpecker (amongst others) having an extra protective eyelid, which makes perfect sense actually if you think about it. I’d never spotted it before though.

Aliums on a hot day

Like Goldfinch (below) the Common Buzzards were plentiful in the skies above and their call could be heard across the valley multiple times a day. Photographing them was quite another matter. 

The photo above caused a lot of debate with local ornithologists who debated long and hard before settling on a Honey Buzzard

They’re known to frequent the Reservoir over Summer months.

The days were long and peaceful, sunsets almost Mediterranean. I lost track of how many times we were sat out saying it was just like being on holiday, just without the fight to reserve a lounger or the sounds of the sea. Sometimes when the breeze rippled through The Apostles though, if you closed your eyes you could more or less imagine it.

‘The Apostles’ as seen from ‘Goldfinch Alley’

Our garden at sunset looking exotic

One of my favourite birds, the Nuthatch, did really well and there were lots of young, so we had loads of visitors of varying sizes enjoying both the food and the water.

We spent a lot of time looking at the skies, admiring the clouds and learning a bit about the formations. It was so, so clear and a bit of a revelation to us.

Throughout the year the mystery cat kept visiting. Boy or girl? No idea (still) Nicknamed by us Monsieur Flambeau after a character in the Father Brown books, I always greet them with a cryptic ‘We meet again Monsieur Flambeau’ I’ve heard it said that about 80% of ginger cats are male but this one’s so pretty who knows.

In August,on our walks, we were finding lots of Horse Chestnuts hiding conkers and green acorns falling already.

And in August, two lots of new fencing and new gates - all done on Ms NW tE’s birthday, not that she’s seen in yet, but it certainly tidied the boundary and we were very pleased with it.

I haven’t written about all the National Trust visits we went on through the year. They were mostly for the chance to walk in different territory and gardens. If I started to list them we’d be here for ever, but I did get some nice nature pictures for my collection. The ones below were taken at Standen House, East Grinstead.

I’ve put a tab at the top of the Blog with links to all our usual haunts.

Small Copper Butterfly

Small White Butterfly

White Tailed Bumblebees

We were still enjoying the clear skies and glorious sunsets but Mid September brought the harvest across the lane

and all the leaves started to turn

Sheffield Park

Scotney Castle

Late September brought about a change in the weather. The rolling Sussex skies moved in and the garden took on a totally different look.

Photo taken between 3 and 4pm

Below, pond up at the farm - with added sheep

But it wasn’t all gloom. We got sighting of a Spa Day. Remember them?

and everyone wanted IN.

NOTES FROM THE GARDEN AND KITCHEN:

Direct quote from Crow ‘they can’t be far away, as soon as I went out (with the fat balls and seed) they came’ ...Re The Girls

The last couple of days I’ve noticed quite a lot of activity amongst the Wood Pigeons and the Blackbirds in particular. We seem to have a lot more of both in the garden all day long and the males and females are being quite friendly. Watch this space.

Because we didn’t have a turkey this year we’re not one of those households furiously thinking what can be done with seemingly endless left-overs. We did get quite a good selection of cheese though and have enjoyed some rather nice warm croissants filled with cheese and ham, they keep you going most of the day and we’ve had a couple of meals with salmon, which is a nice, light change.

Decoration of the Day:

A lovely sparkly star for the 10th Day of Christmas because I don’t have Ten Lords a-leaping. I don’t have the Pipers piping or the Drummers drumming come to that.

MUSIC OF THE DAY:

Relaxing piano and birdsong by Peder B Helland

[jordm]

Heartland 11x05 - Measuring Up review

So I tried to keep this short. I really did. Despite everything below.

LOU

Oh Lou, oh Lou... one can wonder what Peter thinks of Lou wanting to move her and the girls to NYC when theoretically, the summer is his time to see the girls too, but whatever. Lou is just being what she got mad at Peter for doing, and I think I’m somewhat used to it because she’s been doing it for awhile; and it’s kind of a better excuse than why Ty is going so I guess its okay. I guess. Overall, not real impressed with Lou for not realizing that Georgie is going to grow up right before her eyes and she’s going to miss all of it. She’s doing what she criticized Peter for and putting money/business before family- completely; without even trying to show a little compromise to get a little family-work balance. Hey, Katie needs her family too!

Lou is surprised to hear that Lou moved in... and kind of berates Jack for not telling her. Oh boy, what will she think when she hears about Mitch? Which I think is hilarious that Tim told her, out of all people, who has her back and made him park his trailer up the hill. Thanks Tim.

Lou does one thing right off the bat; hiring someone to take care of the Dude Ranch and Maggie’s while she’s gone, because she’s going to be gone more... okay maybe just Maggie’s because the Dude Ranch is kind of a mess and no one has been there (why is she surprised LOL). She’s finally doing something about what work she left behind to let Tim and everyone else pick up the slack, something even Casey notices. So good on ya Lou. 

I loved Jack being the audience and bringing up and asking if she’s going to be gone even more,and speaking for all of us that Georgie does miss her even if she doesn’t show it, because she’s strong. She needs her mother, even if she doesn’t show it (same can be said forAmy and Ty). He even brought up that because she’s going to be gone so much, why should she care about Mitch? It’s not always about Lou. Jack needed someone since Tim was picking up other work that Lou left behind.

When we finally runs into Mitch for the first time, we learn she called, texted and facebooked him. Guys. She facebooked him. I found that really funny for some reason I can’t quite place. This leads to Mitch finding out the real reason Lou “ran off” with Peter, and it’s probably there he realized he maybe was a bit harsh in his decision. Maybe just a little. Still, I don’t disagree with his decision to leave and let Lou figure out what she wants; I just disagree with how he did it. This seems to be the theme of my dislikes this season. HOW.

The ending montage with Mitch was so well done. I just think it was too rushed. First of all, they went from basically not talking to kissing and making up, literally in a few days span? Seems rushed. I hoped that Lou and Mitch would part as friends first, since he must know Lou is off again, and that leaves them in the same place as last year. I was also hoping Mitch wouldn’t jump right back into a relationship without really thinking of it. This end montage was the opposite of subtle, and the complete opposite of how they’re treating the Wyatt-Georgie relationship.

Tim and Amy springing wisdom onto Lou

“You cant do 3 months of parenting in 3 days” - Amy

“I think all your daughter’s need is their mother” - Tim

Onto Jen, I don’t blame her for being so intolerant of Jen being late; even Jen understood but I was glad when she gave her a second chance when she saw she could be a good fit. I think it was a win-win for Lou and Jen, who both go away with this knowing that Maggie’s is in good hands and that Jen has something to keep her from being a... smother. 

GEORGIE

When Lou comes back, Georgie correctly brings up the fact that Lou returns like nothing has changed and that it’s been hard for everyone to pick up the slack since Lou’s been gone. She also misses her long absent mother, but Lou has a remedy. Spend the Summer in NYC! Uh, as it was pointed out, wasn’t this a two week thing at one point? Why can’t she manage it from Hudson? The fact that it’s going well isn’t good for Lou’s prospects of being home with Georgie. 

It also made me wonder, doesn’t PETER have any input? Usually when there’s a divorce, the other parent has to approve the move, especially if it’s major or cuts into him spending time with his kids over the Summer? Does he even see his kids? Wouldn’t they have a seeing-kids schedule type thing that goes along with the divorce? So many questions. 

I love how she confides in Wyatt about her frustrations about Lou. They sure do seem to be spending a lot of time together and i’m soooo here for it. Friends, dating, whatever - I support this relationship. I like them together. I like the fact that the writers are taking their time with their relationship and keeping it simple, normal... so that we can actually get to know them- together and separate. Hey, we already know more about them than Caleb/Cass.. soooo.... 

In the end, Georgie decides to stay because she wants to continue to train with Flame and is going to miss home and family.. and especially Remi. Ugh. I can’t- and can’t help but laugh knowing that both of them knew what Wyatt was implying. But hey, I don’t blame her; I’d miss my dog too. 

Luckily, Lou understands their decision. This Maggie venture is Lou’s once in a lifetime, such is Flame to Georgie. Maybe she can always come up for a weekend visit once every week instead? And take Wyatt with her since he never got the trip? Surely there has to be another way then spending the whole Summer there. Anyways, i’m always glad to see mother and daughter bonding, since its so rare now.

Also. Probably my favourite conversation of the episode. I ship them. Way more than Adam and Georgie by far. How about that smile Wyatt gave when he heard Georgie was staying? Ugh. 

Georgie: “I decided to stay. I want to keep training Flame” 

Wyatt: “Is that all?” 

Georgie: “Yeah i’ll miss home and everyone here” 

Wyatt: “Anyone in particular?”

Georgie: “Like Remi, my dog” 

CALEB

Caleb made a miniature mistake and bought (mini) broncs for the rodeo school because he takes his job seriously. He may have gotten the broncs for 1/3 of the price... but there’s a reason why. They’re miniature, and Katie loves them!

“No room for cute at my rodeo school” - Tim

Caleb tries to remedy the situation and gets Tim to agree to one little mini clinic to use the mini broncs- Hey its another way to take in income!, but since Tim has learnt from the last time, he tells Caleb he won’t have anything to do with it. Unluckily for Caleb, he doesn’t do kids either, so he asks Amy to help; via bribes.

The first class, it was clear Caleb was in over his head. He unwisely relents and lets them ride the mini broncs before practising. Me at the time thinks that wasn’t such a good idea, which is proven when a kid actually breaks their arm. Ouch, he’s lucky no one sued him.

Luckily, the second time, it was Amy to the rescue! She wisely takes a step back on a more ‘tame’ horse and it ends up going much better; even so when they get back on the broncs everyone stays on a little longer and no one breaks a leg (and they wisely lift up the kids from the horses before they fall!)

I can just imagine the stage direction for the first class. “Uh, just got act crazy and play with stuff and we’ll film it.” Easiest direction ever. 

Also. More rodeo school stories please, I love the Caleb-Tim interaction!

KATIE

“Can i go on one of your horses Caleb?” It’s actually adorable how she asked that and then got on the bronc and found it so much fun, even when she fell off. She really did take after Tim/Amy.  

I also thought that her reaction to meeting her hero, Mitch was adorable and then Tim introducing Brick to Katie, and then Katie showing Brick the ropes... and literally getting tied in them was just precious. It’s nice to see Brick coming out of his shell.

Can I also mention how cute Katie was when she greeted Georgie and said she brought her something back from NYC? I need more sister time! Katie was basically just really really cute this whole episode. 

LISA & JACK

Jack couldn’t sleep because Lisa got a new memory foam mattress (just LOL); he also just wants to brush his teeth but Lisa needs the washroom to put on a face mask. He is also washing the blenders that Lisa used for her smoothies because she didn’t wash it right away; and she put all his fly fishing in a box. 

I find it comical that Jack couldn’t sleep because of the new mattress, and also kind of weird that Jack isn’t used to waiting for the washroom since he used to live with basically all girls; I mean when Lou, Amy, Katie, Marion and Ty used to live there, how did he survive with one washroom? I can’t help but think that that his reaction to that incident was compounded with the others.

And my response to “Maybe we rushed into this?”Ummm you’ve been married for two years, you definitely did NOT rush into it. But, it will take time to get used to each other’s habits, as Lou said, its a whole different ball game, and I have no doubt that they will work through it. Together. I mean at one point didn’t they both have spouses and live together with someone else? 

AMY

This episode wasn’t as Amy heavy as others, mostly dealing with that one scene where she struggled to take care of Lyndy, wash her hair and manage her phone calls. And I’m glad; other characters came to the forefront and I think they really did need to dedicate more time to Lou since she’s going to off again soon. 

So, all I’ll say is, at least Amy and Ty can Skype in the same timezone now, call each other (yay for Canada wide calling) and he doesn’t seem to be in the middle of a desert, so thats a plus I guess. I could tell Amy might have started to regret telling Ty to go, but if she did, she never let Ty know. Perhaps because it’s she who brought it up, so she really does have no right to say “You shouldn’t have gone”, but she can always go with “I miss you, can’t wait till you’re home. It’s hard without you”. 

Oh well, not many complaints here. I guess it was nice to see Lou and Amy bonding over being “single” mothers? I guess? Even though they’re extremely different circumstances and one really isn’t single. And as always, it’s proven that Amy is the one who should be leading these little britches/kids rodeo schools, not Caleb/Tim. 

HONOURABLE MENTION

I may not have liked the last scene’s content as much as I have because I still don’t think Mitch should go running back to Lou... since we know she’s gonna be off to NYC but 10/10 for the lighting and cinematography. Just beautiful. 

Also, a mention to Wyatt. Because you may have been on way less episodes than Adam, but I already like you and Georgie together waaay better than Adam and Georgie. So yeah. 

SONGS IN THIS EPISODE

When I Get There - Cheryl Rider

Timbuku- Cree Rider

Number Two - Misisipi Mike

This Town - Niall Horan

NEXT EPISODE

Uh cloning horses? What? Since when is this a thing? In any case, I’m glad for another Lisa storyline

[nicolabarth]

Blood and Bones – Chapter 4

Pairing: Samifer

Summary: When people on the Winchester lands vanish, including Dean, Sam thinks the necromancer who’s living near by in a tower is to blame.

Warnings: Fantasy AU, Violence, Blood Magic (as in people cut themselves and others to get blood for spells), Knight!Sam, Necromancer!Lucifer, Blood Mage!Lucifer, Undead, Questionable morals, Truth Spells

Notes: Thanks to my beta readers @coplins, and @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell. The whole story was inspired by @brieflymaximumprincess.

Read it on AO3

Dean was not thrilled about an evil necromancer saving his life, but when he learned what had happened (they left out the fact that Sam gave parts of his life force), he thanked Lucifer in an only slightly stiff way and promised him that as soon as he ruled these lands there would be some kind of mutual agreement. Both brothers knew better than to make any promises in the name of their father. In the eyes of John Winchester matters of good and evil were always black and white.

As they were about to part ways, Lucifer leaned close enough to Sam that his breath caught in the shell of Sam’s ear and made him shiver. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon. You’re always welcome in my tower.” There was a promise in his voice and when he straightened up again, he winked.

A few moments later he was gone.

Dean gave an exaggerated shudder. “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but he is creepy.”

“Sure,” Sam agreed half-heartedly. He still felt Lucifer’s kisses on his lips, even though the time they spent by the waterfall was a bit of a haze by now. He remembered blue eyes glowing with power and a voice that seemed to be full of dark secrets and things he hadn’t dreamed of so far. He remembered the euphoria he’d felt, when he had realized that the ritual was over and he was still alive, knowing his trust had been well placed despite the odds.

He also remembered the pain of course, but it came with memories of a gentle voice telling him that his brother was alright.

He had not expected a necromancer and a blood mage to be like that. He wanted to know about this man.

It took almost a week for the commotion about a dragon (well, Basilisk) on their lands to die down. John Winchester did not look happy when he heard about the necromancer (well, blood mage) helping his sons.

“What did he ask of you in return?” he had asked.

“Just the basilisk venom and to be left in peace,” Sam had lied.

His father had looked at him as if he hadn’t believe him, but he’d said nothing more.

It was Adam, though, who finally convinced their father that it was only just and proper to send the necromancer a gift. Something to show their gratefulness, because that’s what you do, when someone saves your son’s life.

Sam was the one who got sent carrying the gift. After all he had managed to deal with the necromancer once, he was the most likely to manage it again without causing an incident.

Sam didn’t protest.

The tower looked almost peaceful in the sunlight. Old, of course, definitely older than the current owner. A bit crooked, too. But there was a rosebush to one side, and a small hunched figure carefull cutting it into shape.

It was only when Sam drew near that he realized that the fingers of the old lady working on the roses were mostly bone with just a bit of dried skin holding them together. And when she turned her head in Sam’s direction, the sockets of her eyes were empty and dark, her grin the permanent one of a skull. Sam’s horse flicked its head up and for a moment he was glad he could concentrate on calming it down again. He should’ve known, of course, but seeing still came as a bit of a shock.

The undead old lady turned back to the roses, and Sam tried not to wonder too much, if he had maybe known her in life.

He took saddle and bridle off his horse and tied it to a nearby tree with a line that would allow it to graze. Then he took the bundle the gift was wrapped in from the saddle bag and knocked on the door.

He wore his sword at his side, but not his chainmail, and he felt his hand wrap around the hilt of the weapon as he looked back at the undead gardener, just a little bit uneasy.

“You still don’t like the reminder of who you’re dealing with, do you?”

When Sam turned, Lucifer was standing on a path that lead around the tower, away from the roses. The blood mage motioned for him to come closer. “Come on. Opening the front door is always such a hassle. Everything in this tower is too old.”

Sam let go of his weapon and followed.

Behind the tower was a small herb garden and a well and a door that led into a small kitchen. There was a fire going in the hearth and a pot hanging above it. Lucifer peeked into it, stirring a few times. “You’re just in time for dinner. I think it’s done.”

Sam blinked and tried to reconcile the man who apparently had been cooking dinner himself with the powerful mage with glowing eyes who’d ripped part of his life force out of his body. “You cook?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Letting the dead cook makes everything taste rotten.”

Well … that made sense.

“Don’t tell anyone, though,” Lucifer continued with a wink. “It’d take the mystery out of me being a dark mage and all that, don’t you think?”

Sam snorted. “Oh yes, people could stop fearing you. It would be terrible.”

Lucifer pulled a face. “I may complain about people stupidly fearing what they don’t know now and then, but it keeps nosy children away, you know.”

That made Sam laugh. “You don’t like people much, do you?”

“Oh, what gave it away?”

“In that case, should I make myself scarce soon?” It wasn’t like Lucifer had ever acted like he didn’t want Sam’s company, but if the blood mage didn’t like people, what made Sam different?

“As I said, Sammy ...” Lucifer stepped closer, eyes intently on Sam’s now. “You’re always welcome in my tower.”

Sam smiled, shifting his weight a little so that his stance was more open, taking the sting out of what he was going to say next. “I’m people, too.”

Lucifer waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not completely sure about that. Normally people don’t allow me to tie them up and use them to power a spell. And they especially don’t kiss me afterwards.” There was a twinkle in Lucifer’s eyes now, as if that was something he liked to remember. Well, Sam agreed with the last part being a good memory.

“Talking about the spell,” Lucifer continued. He pointed next to the hearth. “Put your sword there and let me check on you.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t expected Lucifer to be that concerned about his wellbeing. “It was just swallow cuts. They’re healing well.” Still, he took off his weapon’s belt. So iron really did interfere with Lucifer’s magic, at least a little bit?

“I’m not talking about your body.” Lucifer grinned. “Though it sure deserves every bit of attention.”

That was a really bad habit of Lucifer’s, giving off-hand compliments while delivering troubling pieces of information. Sam wondered, did the spell leave any marks on his soul? A bit worried, he leaned his sword against the wall next to the hearth, put the present next to it. Then he stepped closer to Lucifer again. The blood mage watched him with a very pleased expression for some reason. He reached out, and cold fingers brushed over Sam’s forehead, the same spot where he’d drawn the bloody rune. The was a slight prickling feeling that Sam associated with magic by now, drawing more attention to the point of contact.

The thumb of Lucifer’s other hand came to rest underneath Sam’s chin, slid down to where the rune had been on his throat, leaving a tingling trail behind. Sam couldn’t help but draw a long breath, lips parting slightly, and he liked how Lucifer’s eyes turned dark at that.

“Looks good,” the blood mage said after a moment. “There isn’t a high risk of lasting side effects, but you handled it even better than I thought. If I didn’t know what I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Well, that was a relief.

With his worries gone, Sam suddenly felt the places Lucifer was touching him even more acutely. Lucifer’s right hand slid to the side, over his temple, and down the side of his face, and Sam half closed his eyes. He hooked his fingers under Lucifer’s belt and pulled the mage closer, until their lips met for a kiss.

It was a heady thing. This time he wasn’t dazed from the after effects of a spell. This time he knew exactly who he was kissing and that he really rather shouldn’t. This time he made the conscious decision not to care.

Lucifer was the one to pull back first. There was a slight smirk on his lips. “So you’ll be staying for dinner.”

Dinner was stew from vegetables Lucifer had grown himself. Along with it came a bit of bread (that he had baked himself). Lucifer was a pretty good cook, and he put up with quite some teasing from Sam over the domesticity of it all, before he pointed his spoon at Sam with furrowed brows. “You know, you made a very pretty picture in chains in my dungeon. I’m tempted to see if putting you back in there would make you shut up.”

Sam leaned back in his chair at the small table on the wall opposite the hearth. He felt surprisingly at ease. Safe, like he normally only did with Dean and his friends of many years. It felt like the ritual to save Dean’s life had been the worst Lucifer had to offer for him, and since that was behind him there was nothing to fear any more. Maybe he was too naive. He would probably find out sooner or later. “I get the feeling you like tying me up.”

That earned him an incredulous laugh from Lucifer. As if he had expected a different reaction. For a moment he just looked at Sam with those intense blue eyes, a small smirk tugging at his lips that said more than words. Sam felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine.

“Care to join me for drinks in the library?” Lucifer asked.

Sam felt himself nod before he could really think about it.

He left his sword by the hearth and only took the present. Lucifer led him to the room with the window through which Sam had climbed in over a week ago. Now, in daylight, he saw a fireplace at one end of the room, and a comfortable looking armchair next to it. Lucifer offered Sam the armchair and went to get himself a normal chair. He also brought a carafe of wine and two cups.

It was good wine that left Sam wondering where the blood mage got it from. “Do you make your own wine, too?”

Lucifer smiled. “I sometimes send the dead to fetch things for me.”

Sam stared into his cup, trying to think of accounts of merchants going missing recently. If someone came from afar, though, but never reached their lands, they’d never know. And Lucifer wasn’t stupid, he’d be careful not to anger the people too much, on whose land he lived. “I can see to it that you get the supplies you need, you know.”

Lucifer lifted an eyebrow. “I won’t become your pet mage.”

“I’m just trying to keep you from unnecessarily hurting people.”

The blood mage leaned forward on his chair. “If I see fit to hurt someone, I will, no matter what you do.”

Of course he would. As nice as the thought was that he could somehow turn a dark mage good, Sam wasn’t delusional. If he played the cards right, he could maybe reign Lucifer in, that was all. “That’s why I’m bargaining and not demanding you to stop. You want to live here in peace. I’m offering peaceful solutions.”

Now a thoughtful look crossed Lucifer’s face. “What would your father say?”

“My father won’t know.”

That made Lucifer grin. “What about your brothers?”

“They would help. By the way.” Sam picked up the present. ��My younger brother picked this out for you.” He held the bundle out to Lucifer. “It comes with my father’s very reluctant thanks for saving his oldest son.”

With a questioning look, Lucifer took the bundle. He unwrapped the fabric and uncovered the book that was kept safe inside. It was bound in sturdy leather, one of the better pieces from the castle library. Lucifer opened it to take a look at the title. “Philosophy?”

“Well, we don’t have any magic texts, but this is a pretty rare manuscript. I’ve told Adam about your library, and we both thought you would probably appreciate it more than the majority of our family.”

Lucifer thumbed through the pages, appreciation showing on his face when he saw the carefully drawn illustrations and initials. “This is probably worth a lot.”

“So is Dean’s life to us.”

For a moment Lucifer looked at Sam with an unreadable expression on his face. Than he set the book aside and stood up. He stepped close enough that their knees touched, leaning forward and supporting his weight on the armrests of Sam’s chair. “Thank you.”

Sam smiled up at him, spreading his legs a little so that Lucifer could stand between them. “I really want the peaceful coexistence to work out.”

Lucifer was close enough that his breath ghosted over Sam’s face. “Me too. I won’t bend over backwards for it, though.”

“You aren’t planning something my father could object to, are you?”

“Not for now.” There was silence for a moment in which Lucifer’s eyes stayed locked with Sam’s, thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m not doing much these days,” he said finally. “Patrolling my borders, defending them. Sometimes I need blood for that that’s purer than my own. Some spells are fueled by pain too. Most opponents aren’t strong enough that I’d need a life.”

“You’ve really been keeping our borders safe?” Sam asked. At least this time he didn’t have to fight his fascination. This was something he should know about.

“I guess you could see it like that. My territory encompasses half the Campbell lands, too, though.”

That really was nitpicking. If there was a magical threat heading their way, it didn’t matter if it was stopped at their borders or a few miles before them.

“I’m chasing away people you would deem nice, too. Young mages looking for a place to settle. With some of them you’d probably be better off.”

Maybe Lucifer was right, but there was something in Sam, something very possessive that wanted to keep the blood mage right where he was. He reached out, fingers twining into the hair at the back of Lucifer’s neck. “Chasing away doesn’t sound like it takes much effort.”

“It doesn’t. As long as they don’t think they have to fight me purely on the grounds that I’m evil, it’s mostly just a bit of posturing to make them run.” Lucifer shifted his weight a little, his knees brushing along the inside of Sam’s tights.

Sam had seen the posturing with the basilisk. He licked his lips, tilting his head up just a bit. He could smell Lucifer. Herbs and the stew and something icy sharp that reminded him of Lucifer’s magic. “I don’t see any problems with what you’re doing.”

Lucifer leaned forward just a bit more, lips brushing the corner of Sam’s mouth, before the came level with his ear. “You see no problem with me snatching people for my spells?”

“You can ask me, if you need someone for your spells.”

That made Lucifer pause and he pulled back a little to look Sam in the eyes again. “I thought you’d have enough first hand experience with my magic by now that it’d last for the rest of your life.”

“You can ask me, if you need someone for your spells,” Sam repeated. He managed to make his voice sound almost level. He could handle it. Better he than some random person who’d be scared to death even when Lucifer wouldn’t kill them. And after all it wouldn’t require part of his life force next time. “Especially, if you need to defend your territory against a magical threat.”

For a moment, Lucifer’s eyes bored into Sam’s, searching. Then a slow smirk spread on his face. “If you ever realize you actually like a bit of pain, let me know.”

“Shut up.” With that Sam pulled Lucifer down, and again their lips met. This time none of them pulled back. Instead, Lucifer’s hands wandered underneath Sam’s shirt, pushing it up. He found the healing cut over Sam’s heart, let his fingers trail down from there, while Sam kissed along his jawline, nipped at a sensitive spot he found at the side of Lucifer’s neck.

“I still think you’d make a good student.”

“Not a chance.”

“Suit yourself.” Lucifer nudged at Sam’s legs to get him to spread them wider. As soon as the knight did, Lucifer slowly slid to his knees, his mouth joining his hands in exploring every inch of Sam’s skin. Sam threw his head back, panting. He had dreamed about this the last week, since the kiss by the waterfall.

“I want the last bit of your virginity.”

Very much inclined to say yes, Sam gave a little breathless laugh. “Think of the spells you won’t be able to do with my blood any more.”

Lucifer scoffed. “I think your stupid self-sacrificing tendencies make up for that bit of meaningless purity any day. It’s more about the mindset than anything else.” He fumbled with the buttons of Sam’s pants.

“Are you calling me naive?” Sam pulled on Lucifer’s shirt, because it really was unacceptable that the mage was still fully clothed.

Lucifer got the message and helped pull it off, revealing scars of old cuts on his arms, some on his torso, too, that looked like they were placed there to form a pattern. “I’m calling you stupidly heroic. You’ll probably die protecting some ungrateful peasants one day.” He sounded more angry about that than he had any right to be. Huh, did he actually care?

“Now that I’m consorting with the likes of you …” Sam traced a scar over Lucifer’s heart with his fingers. “... the chances are just as high that they’ll come for me with torches and pitchforks.”

Lucifer stroked up the inside of Sam’s thigh to the bulge in Sam’s pants, making his sentence end in a moan. “As I said, ungrateful lot. But you can still get out of here, if you want to.”

“No way. I’m right where I want to be, and you can have every bit of me you want.”

That made Lucifer’s eyes light up. “You’re really not the typical knight.”

“You’re pretty nice for a dark mage.”

“We can still move this to my dungeon.”

Sam threw Lucifer a cocky grin. “Next time, maybe.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

They ended up in front of the fireplace, Sam with his legs wrapped around Lucifer’s hips, eyes locked with icy blue ones, when he hit the peak of his pleasure, Lucifer following close behind.

They stayed on the floor kissing afterwards, none of them inclined to move. Finally, Sam propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Lucifer, biting his lower lip. There was another thing he shouldn’t. He should definitely not feel this warm and tingly inside looking at a blood mage, however helpful (and good in bed) he might be. The coexistence thing really had to work out. If John Winchester decided at one point that the necromancer had to go after all, Sam wasn’t sure which side he’d chose.

“What?” Lucifer asked.

Sam smiled. “I shouldn’t start to really like you.”

“You’re doing a lot of things you shouldn’t recently.” Lucifer’s grin didn’t fit the casual tone. He looked happy. “So we can do this again?”

Sam laughed. “Yes. I’d like that.”

There was probably no way this would end well, was there? But Sam was determined to enjoy every minute they got.

Tagging: @spn-you-idjits @samwise-the-true-hero @i-bleed-salt@hooker-legs@consultingmooseintimeandspace@ravestablook@shebahda@savagearchangelforthewin2-0 @me-fangirl@hardcorefangirlgroupie@thisisnotsteva@wearemykingdom@coffee-queen448 @askatosch

[iviaggidianica]

giorno uno: metropolitan panic & luxury fashion stores

My flights were not pleasant, but not abhorrently intolerable. On the 5 hour stint I watched Vox Lux (weird & unnerving) and then some of The Princess Diaries (familiar and comforting). A chicken curry & pot of ice cream later, I managed to get myself on a skybus to the right terminal, and after asking for help at an info centre (yep I did actually ask), I went to the next gate. I passed Amy Ross on the way, who was going to the USA - an unlikely coincidence!

On the 12 hour flight I was determined to sleep the entire time but drifted in & out due to meals, coldness, discomfort and turbulence. I would wake up every time thinking ‘surely it’s time to get off now’, but alas. There was some passive aggressive gentle elbowing of the large old man sitting beside me encroaching on my personal space, and at one point some orange juice went flying as I knocked it in its holder in my attempt to get comfortable. That’s about as descriptive as a 12 hour flight can get.

Arriving in Milan was the part I was most anxious about. I stood in the passport line for about 30 minutes, awfully dehydrated. Eventually got in, stood at the wrong baggage collection for an embarrassing amount of time, traipsed through the airport to find the Malpensa Express and kissed goodbye to £13 to buy tickets. On the train we passed lots of green shrubbery, crumbling graffitied walls, yellow painted houses, and then all of a sudden we hit the city.

I walked around for almost an hour trying to find the hotel which was purportedly 10 minutes away from the station (it was, just not when you factor in the incompetence of Google Maps). I asked a man at a fresh drinks vendor & a lady in a chemist for some vague Italian-inflected directions, clinging onto every ‘sinistra’ and ‘destra’ I picked out, and eventually pulled my case up the stairs to reception. Proceeded to have a major panic as I couldn’t find my passport hidden in my bag lining - an Australian Consulate building flashed before my eyes in those few moments - and then entered my...room. A sink, bed, table, window, fan - a single toilet and shower located down the hall. Not going to lie - after my disheartening rigmarole throughout the city trying to find the place, running on few hours sleep and little food/water, the room was the yucky little cherry on top. I called Mum, which of course made me feel better, and pulled myself together.

(Already a MESS!)

(The holy fan)

(View from my room)

I contacted a girl, Aaliyah, who I met at UWA at the leaving meeting. I suggested we have dinner together, and so we planned to meet at 3PM at central station to go to Duomo. I was very nervous considering I’d only talked to her for all of 20 minutes in the past.

Whilst waiting for 3 to roll around, (it being around 12 at this point) I decided to walk to the station to have lunch before meeting her. The following sentence will not please Tonya: after wandering around and mainly just being unable to understand the cuisines/prices/formality of the restaurants & cafes, I stumbled into Maccas. And I felt a strange sense of peace, as even the interiors are exactly the same as at home. I ordered a burger, proud of myself for understanding Italian, and then walked to find somewhere else to sit as Maccas was packed with hungry travellers with suitcases. (Quality report: both the chicken and the bread bun in Italian McDonalds, it seems, are actually real).

I had really over-estimated the amount of time I would need to eat one burger. So I walked back to my hotel as a practice run, so that I wouldn’t endure that horrific goose chase from the beginning of the day again. Ended up resting in my hotel for a bit more and then went out to properly meet Aaliyah.

Was still early. And Aaliyah a little late. And my phone charge dying. Went and read some non fiction books about space and time in a shop at the station, called Mum again to express my nervousness, and then went to sit firstly near the steps that go down to the metro, before a cigarette-smoking bogan family drove me to another more isolated bench (more first impressions of Milan as a city in a moment).

Finally went down into the bowels of the metro, pretending to know what I was doing by walking fast and swerving at the appropriate signs. It was surprisingly easy. I bought tickets from a tobacco shop, where the Italian man was more than willing to help and graciously wished me a wonderful day. “Grazie” is beginning to roll off the tongue like second nature now, ah yers.

Aaliyah’s train would stop at my station, and then would go straight on to Duomo. I waited for Aaliyah at the tracks, but due to bad coordination I got ON the train and she got OFF to meet me. It was quite funny. Then when we arranged to just meet at Duomo, meaning she had to follow me a few minutes after on a separate train, she accidentally got off on the stop after. Truly a comedic sequence of events. Once she took a train back in the opposite direction we met beside a massive regal horse statue directly in front of the Duomo which probably has great significance which I’m overlooking. Stepping out to see the cathedral, in fact, wasn’t so much of a “wow, there’s the cathedral!” moment, but just a blind frenzy of trying to find a “girl who looks like a cow”, as Aaliyah self-described her animal-print outfit.

We met and were immediately barraged by street sellers, coming up to us and tying rainbow strings - yes, strings - around our wrists in the name of ‘peace and love’, and then asking for money. As Aaliyah is originally from Sudan, many African sellers sucked up to her, giving her discount offers. But we declined the £20 carriage ride and professional photography in front of the cathedral.

We took some pictures ourselves (better ones of me fully standing there, plus us together, are with Aaliyah and will come through at some point. These don’t do justice and I’m making weird faces, I know).

(You asked for pics with my face in them, this is what you get)

Then we went to the Duomo shopping place, which was art in itself. Looked a lot like the Melbourne arcades, but...far more impressive. We went inside the luxury stores including Prada, Chanel, Georgio Armani, Michael Kors, etc...and I suppressed my shock as Aaliyah seriously contemplated buying her parents £300+ gifts. And she probably will end up going back and doing so.

(Aaliyah + me looking like I’m grimacing, because that’s what happens when your phone is on the lowest possible brightness setting and you can’t see yourself.)

The shop assistants are SO friendly. They obviously want to sell you things, but they take a legitimate interest in you. The man in Georgio Armani talked to us about Australia & growing up in Italy & our respective interests in fashion & his fear of flying - it feels like you can just make friends with anyone and everyone in Italy. Nobody really keeps to themselves. This is great, but also a bad thing when you’re running on maybe 5 hours of sleep over 2 days and being friendly seems like the biggest chore on earth. 

Aaliyah went and got prescriptions for Ray Bans, as you do, whilst I thankfully sat on a couch and pretended to go on my phone - pretended, because it was now on 5% and I was desperately trying to preserve power for my journey home. Here is an unnecessary pictorial documentation of this incident.

We went to a pizza place someone had recommended Aaliyah, got some large slices, then went and sat inside McDonalds (don’t worry, it was just a place to sit). Then Aaliyah accompanied me to the station so I could go home, around 7:30PM; but then the most bizarre thing occurred.

A man with spiked up hair walking hurriedly suddenly stopped as and said something in Italian, to which we responded ‘parlo inglese’ and continued on our way, but then he started asking for directions for somewhere, or asking us if we knew something, and then suddenly said he worked for a modelling company and we were both really great candidates and there was going to be a party at a well known club in Milan (Aaliyah knows of it) and wants us to come, and because Aaliyah had been receiving compliments all day from shopkeepers etc for her appearance I wasn’t so much doubtful of that compliment, but it was dodgy how he stopped us randomly and didn’t even seem to know what he was talking about at first. He continued for about 20 minutes and Aaliyah showed genuine interest whilst I was thinking nononono ALERT, and in the end it ended up sounding actually real but no way my spiky haired friend. He’s going to send Aaliyah an invite for it, so she can go along and have fun - not I sir!

We parted ways and I felt very snazzy remembering how to do the whole ride back, and then walking back to my hotel without any Google prompts at all. 

Now, first impressions of Milan: an ultra-busy Fremantle. Humid and hot, you can’t walk far without putting on a sweat. Metro lines, trams etc are very efficient, if a little ill-labelled. The people are all very extroverted, happy to talk, and happy to translate. Friendships could be made from a 5 minute ride on the metro - something impossible in Perth. There is an eclectic cultural mix, with many Indians, Africans, Muslims. All the business men always look like they’re off the cover of GQ with blue suits and slick cosmopolitan haircuts. There are many gracious, slender looking women, but mainly the girls all have that curly hair black rimmed glasses sportswear look. Everyone always looks like they have somewhere to go, and are going in confidence.

I wrote the following summation of the day about halfway it:

Throughout the entire journey thus far, I’ve found myself constantly asking the question: “why am I doing this?”. I don’t know if this is a normal thing to think. I just hope I can start to feel a bit less overwhelmed.

Yet at the same time, I haven’t really registered that I’m in Italy; anywhere of particular note. In that sense, I’m both numb and also overwhelmed at the same time. I’m looking forwards to Uni, where there’ll be plenty of English-speaking people to feel comfortable with.

A good sleep & food should restore me.

...and whilst today was by no means perfect and there were a lot of bad moments, I feel somewhat more hopeful tonight.

Now, let’s see if these posts will continue at this length, or at all!

[aaronmascoll]

Chapter 11 - Colt

When Colt left, somebody had been there. They were invisible, but saw them. He was sure of it. When he reached the forest, they ran away. He chased after them, following their footprints in the snow. After he jumped over a small stream, the footprints disappeared completely. Then he turned his attention upward toward the trees, looking for anything that wasn't natural. Colt looked but found his pursuit at a standstill. "Shit!" Colt cursed.

Colt stood there wondering where he should go. He thought about going back, but for some reason, he didn't want to run into Leila, so he decided to keep moving forward. After five minutes, Colt realized just how tired he was. He had been chasing whoever that was for a little over an hour. His legs were freezing from melting snow that clung to his legs, and his sweater wasn't providing much protection either. He sat next to a tree and decided to rest for a minute. "Done following me yet?" said a random voice.

Colt looked around, but found the source of the voice absent. "Up here, dumb ass!"

Colt looked up and found a blonde women sitting on top the highest branches of the tree he was sitting under. She wore a long black leather coat, a white V-neck tshirt, loose fitting black sweat pants, and no shoes. "Naw, I thought it didn't look right," Colt said standing up. "Just think about. Angry black man chases innocent white girl through a forest. Doesn't look too good for me."

The girl in the tree began to laugh. She laughed so hard, the branch she was sitting on broke and she fell thirty feet to a hard landing. Even after hitting the ground, which didn't seem like a soft landing to Colt, she still continued to laugh. "That's hilarious, " she said standing up. "Me? Innocent? You are funny."

When the blonde started walking, Colt followed her. "So, where are we going?" Colt asked.

"I'm going to get a fucking drink," she said with a hint of animosity. "Follow me...if you want."

"Aren't you the one from the thieves faction?"

"Fuck no!"

She moved fast, Colt was struggling to keep up with her. "Then what are you doing in the middle of nowhere?"

The girl stopped and got in Colt's face. "Why are you so interested in me?" She said curiously. Her breath hot against his face, and he could just barely feel her lips brushing against his.

"Ever hear the story about the scorpion and the frog?"

She smiled, turned around, and started walking again. "And which one am I?"

Colt trailed after her. "Obviously you're the frog."

"Bitch please! You can frog these nuts."

Colt spent the next few hours talking to this girl about absolutely nothing. They spent the entire time cracking jokes, telling funny stories, and making fun of each other. During their time together, Colt managed to learn that her name was Al. He also managed to learn that she was the a champion for Samael, The Dragon of Light.

When they made it out of the snow, and the forest, Colt saw his first town. It was a small town, there couldn't have more than a hundred people living in it. The buildings were small and made out of wood, there weren't any roads, and the people dressed as if they were at a renaissance fair. He tried to say hello to the people he passed, but nobody spoke spoke to him. They barely even looked at him.

When they passed the last building, and started traversing a farm, Colt decided to ask. "Why didn't any of them talk to me?"

"That's because you're a champion," Al responded.

"Wait, so they aren't like us?"

"What? Champions? In their fucking dreams!"

Colt followed Al as she jumped over a waist high stone wall. "So they're human? I just figured since this place was call The Realm of Champions-"

"That everyone would be a champion?"

"Yeah kind of."

In the distance Colt saw a large Iron wall that stretched clear across the horizon. "At one point, you would've been right. It is true that only champions are allowed here, but once they're here, any babies they pop out are her to stay. That's how this fucking place ended up with cities, towns, countries, kingdoms, and nations."

"But how do they know we're champions?"

"Fuck you're annoying! Look, we give off this aura. It's like your about to shit yourself, but you also kinda wanna suck my dick at the same time. For us, you probably wouldn't even notice it. But, if they've got some God level powers, then you can bet your ass you're going to feel that shit."

As the wall loomed before them, Colt saw that there was a gate he didn't notice before. Guards wearing red uniforms stood in front of the gates entrance. Two on either side, one off to the left sitting behind a table. Two of the guards carried muskets, and the others carried swords. "I got this," Al said as they approached the gate.

"That'll be two silvers each," the guard sitting behind the table said without looking at them, "If you want to enter Bagwell city."

"And I'm still waiting on that gold you owe me," Al said bending over the table. "You know, you could always just win it back in a game of dice. Or, I could have Riot make a little trip to your barracks tonight, after she gets released. What's it going to be?"

The guard sitting began to turn a color of green that Colt had never seen a person turn before. "That's today?"

"Yup, ten years in solitary confinement. She might get a little rough."

"Open the gate," The guard said reluctantly.

"Open the gate!" One of the guards next to the gate shouted.

As the gate opened, Al began to walk through it. "I'll tell Riot you said hi," She said with a final wave.

What was beyond the gate was much more like a city. The buildings were more or less like the ones in the town they had just passed, except smaller and more condensed. There were people of all ethnicities, speaking every language Colt could think of. He saw vendors selling their wares out of storefronts, barrels, and horse drawn carts. The streets were small and obviously made to be walked on, but that didn't stop people from driving their carts down one of them. Anyone walking in the opposite direction of the carts had to either squeeze around it, or hide in one of the many store fronts and wait for it to pass.

When they reached a larger street more suitable for carts and the like, Al started to talk to a Chinese man who was tying an empty cart to a pole off to the side of the road. He wore brown overalls, a straw hat, and nothing else Colt assumed. "If I give you three silver, will you take me and my friend to the pier?" She asked.

The Chinese man spat on the ground. "Six silvers! Horse tired, been working all day," he said with a thick Chinese accent.

"Five," Al responded.

The Chinese man nodded angrily. "Be right back," he said. He jogged away from the cart, and disappeared into a nearby alley. Colt and Al jumped into the back of the empty cart. "Shouldn't people treat us better?" Colt asked. "Since we're champions."

"You'd think, but no. Humans are just a bunch of jealous little bitches, that are all pissy because the gods chose us and not them. But the stronger the champion, the more respect they'll give you. For instance, the guy who's in charge of the warriors. His name is King Milhouse, I think. That mother fucker is so strong, he might even be a God."

"I've met a God, your God in fact, and I didn't feel any of that."

"That's because they're good at hiding how powerful they are. These fucking mortals would have a heart attack if they felt a God's true power."

"That's funny, the way you say it makes it sound like we're not mortal."

"That's because we're not."

The shock wasn't as bad as he thought it should be. "What do you mean?" Colt said confused.

"A champion's service is for as long as your God is alive. And the gods are fucking immortal, so why shouldn't we be?"

"So I'm-"

"Yes!" Al growled. "The moment you stepped foot in this place as a champion, you became immortal. But don't get that shit twisted, being immortal means you can live forever, that doesn't mean you can't be killed."

Colt didn't feel any different. Maybe I'm not immortal he thought. Maybe whatever magic made champions immortal didn't effect him. Either way, he would find out in a hundred years. He could live a hundred years and never age. "I need a drink," Colt said in a exhausted voice.

"Its like we're speaking the same fucking language! What the shit is taking this guy so long!?"

It was another five minutes before the Chinese man returned, pulling behind him not a horse, but an ostrich. "I thought he said it was a horse."

"Who gives a rat's ass! As long as the stupid thing get us to the bar, he can call it a goat for all I care."

After hooking up his ostrich, they were ready to set off, but a small girl came running out of the alley yelling. She handed him a something tied up in a white cloth, and ran away. "Wife feed you," the Chinese man said. "Says ride to pier too long. My name Linhu." Linhu handed Al the bag, yanked on the reins and pulled them out into the street.

They traveled down one road for fifteen minutes, turned left down a smaller one way street, and then right onto a much larger street. This street was much like a four lane street back on earth. But this one was more commercial than the others. There were larger stores, hotels, restaurants, even brothels.

Only carts and private passenger carriages traveled down this street. Colt seen carriages being pull by all sorts of animals. Horses, zebras, camels, bears, and a many more exotic animals. Once a blue carriage with white curtains sped by being pull by two very large orange lizards. Drivers shouted at each, signaled when they were turning, and threatened to kill each other. It was exactly like being on earth.

Sooner or later Colt was able to tell how rich a person was from how their carriage was decorated, how the driver was dressed, and what was pulling it. After an hour the cart driver turned left at an intersection, where a man in a blue uniform was directing traffic. They traveled down this road for another ten minutes before, pulling over. "Give horse break," Linhu said. He took the white cloth from where it sat next to Al and untied it. Inside were four sandwiches and two smaller bags. He handed Al and Colt each a sandwich, then took one for himself. He then fed the ostrich seeds, leaves, and bugs from one of the small bags.

Colt and Al ate their sandwiches as Linhu fed his ostrich. The suns began to set, and rain clouds began to form. "Rains coming," he said. He finished feeding the ostrich and climbed into the back of the cart. From a hidden compartment he produced two plastic panchos, he put on one and put the other on the ostrich along with small straw hat.

As the suns disappeared behind the rain clouds, Colt put up his hood in anticipation for the oncoming showers. He seen Al produce a hood from the back of her coat. Just as they were about set off again, an alarm went off, blaring from an unknown location. Every carriage and cart pulled over. "What's going on?" Colt asked.

"You'll see," Al said as she closed her eyes and lied down.

From the buildings next to them, three men ran out into the street and stopped. They wore all black, carried daggers, and looked terrified. After them, ten guards in red uniforms ran after them carrying muskets. They guards lifted their rifles and held them at eye level. A thunderous boom shook the sky as rain began to fall. One more person exited the build after the guards. He wore a gold chainmail shirt with a red tabbard over it, two golden spikes pauldrons, golden gauntlets, a golden bucket helmet with an expressionless mask, leather pants, and leather boots. In one hand he carried a silver shield with medusa's head engraved on it, and in the other he carried a bronze bronze flail with a spiked head.

The man in gold marched past the guards and stood before the three men in black. They raised their daggers and he raised his shield. A feint grayish light emitted from medusa's eyes as he lifted it. A look of dread came over each of their faces as the light hit them. All at once they dropped their weapons and fell to their knees. The man in gold began to spin his flail in a wide arc above his head. The sky began to shake, thunder boomed drowning out the blairing alarm. As the man in gold began to spin his flail faster, lightning raced through the clouds in bright flashes. His flail spun faster and faster with every flash of lightning. The head of his flail began to spark, then it too left a trail of white lightning as it spun.

When he dropped his shield, the three men came to their senses, one raised his hands to shield himself and the other two got up and tried run. But it was too late. The man in gold brought down his flail, as a lightning bolt fell from the sky, split into three separate arcs and hit each of the men in black. The ground shook, the clouds roared, and nobody did anything. The men in black were now nothing but charred body parts and a mixed pool of blood. Colt's entire body was trembling with fear as he looked at the man in gold in awe. The alarm suddenly stopped and people began to move again. "We go now!" Linhu said with fear.

"Who was that?" Colt asked no one in particular.

When he looked at Al, she was smiling at him. "That my friend, was a demigod."