#to see that and to view it as an exciting opportunity to make some Dank Memes instead of recognizing thats going to negatively effect ppl

[toytulini]

Theres no need to condescend to me about how the reason I must not find it funny is that i dont have a sense of humor. I know that I will not agree on everything with everyone who is against trump, and like Im pretty sure I said in my first reblog, if this is what it takes to get you to vote for her then sure i Fucking Guess, I was confused cos this kind of edgelord, "doesn't give a single shit about others" humor seemed to be out of place with stances on compassion I thought I shared with Spider, but the way this keeps getting doubled down on is really baffling to me.

[harpyloon]

i’ll catch you

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: "Up close, Y/N could see the familiar freckles splattered all over his nose and cheeks. He was towering over her like he always did. She used to be the little second year Hufflepuff always idling by the entrance to the Great Hall hoping to bump into the famous Charlie Weasley. Studying on the Quidditch pitch, watching him behind her textbook, captaining the Gryffindor team. Climbing the beech tree by the lake again and again, hoping Charlie Weasley would somehow walk by once more to offer her a hand..."

☞ Curse Breaker reader x Dragon-tamer Charlie Weasley

Warnings: Fluff, sprinkles of angst, dragons (duh), mentions of a dead animal, mentions of dragon eating dead animal (lol), post-war timeline (although not that important)

WC: 4.5k+ , Part 2 coming soon!

Read on AO3

Beautiful rays of golden sunlight were peaking through the blinders of Y/N's cabin. It was going to be a lovely day with the perfect weather to seek out a bit of adventure, and although she was sure she had countless other affairs to address before kicking off with her assignment the next day, a blathering Bill Weasley was not one of them.

"Are you even listening?" his tone was way beyond impatient. "You know what? Don't answer that. I know for a fact that you never pick up anything I say. Ever."

Y/N rolled her eyes as she busied herself with stuffing her socked feet inside a pair of brown chunky hiking boots. She didn't plan on going very far. Her colleagues were currently lounging in the dining hall about five cabins down, sipping piping hot ciorbă, munching on breakfast toast, and relishing their only foreseeable off day before the start of the big dig tomorrow. Some were even dozing off still, earning as much sleep as they could to compensate for the long nights to come.

It's true what they say about grumpy Curse Breakers. But nobody realized that they just spent too much time with their eyes wide open.

"You know, Bill," Y/N mused, "you always call me the drama queen. What does that make you then?"

The floating head over the fire scoffed, "A concerned superior."

"Well, there's nothing to be concerned about."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"No walks," ordered Bill, his face stern.

"Everyone's out and about today!"

"No walks for you."

Y/N laughed. "Oh yeah?"

Bill sighed. He knew trying to be hard-nosed was futile. "No walks alone at least."

"Are you sure there's no bun in Fleur's oven yet?" Y/N teased. "You're sounding more like a papa bear with each passing day."

She heard a soft melodic laugh within the fire where Bill's head was when suddenly, another floating head appeared right beside his. This time, all blonde and very French

"There iz no bun yet, mon cher. But I think he az been practicing fatherhood with you." Fleur gave Y/N a wink. "I 'eard zer are many 'andsome men in Romania. With a leetle beet of exzploring yo—"

"There will be no exploring," barked Bill, sending his wife a warning glance, which she ignored.

"—you might find someone az adventurous az you are," Fleur beamed, "And very macho."

"Darling," Bill sighed, "is this necessary?"

With a flying kiss to Y/N, Fleur was gone.

Shrugging on a light parka, Y/N gave Bill a knowing look, "You see? Your wife said I could use a macho man."

"Oh please. You're in a Curse Breaker camp."

"Hey, there are loads of macho men here."

"Macho enough for you?"

Y/N wrinkled her nose but ignored the question.

"Well, William," she said, emphasizing Bill's full name, "I, am a Curse Breaker in the middle of the Southern Carpathians." Stuffing her wand through her belt loop, she looked at him with finality. "And I am not passing up this opportunity."

"Remember when they assigned you to Egypt with me and you went on exploring? Your exploring is bad luck, Y/N, and I did not assign you to Romania to bring bad luck."

"Excuse you, the Egypt Goblins loved me."

"Goblins don't love wizards," retorted Bill.

"I think they were particularly fond of me."

"You Reductored an entire bloody Pyramid!"

Y/N was losing her patience. She wanted to sift through the mountains in the morning sunlight. Discover hidden caves and wade through cold springs. She had her breakfast way earlier than everyone else for this sole purpose.

"I promise I'll be good."

"Take Weiss with you."

Y/N glared. "Absolutely not."

"Take someone."

"I'm walking out on you right now. Don't forget to put out my fire."

"Y/N."

"I'll see you later!"

"I have to tell you—"

Without looking back, she waved at Bill and stepped out into the crisp Romanian morning.

The skies were bright and cloudless, the sun slowly rising up east. The Curse Breaker camp in the middle of the Transylvanian Alps was in for a late morning. It was quiet, apart from the whispers of the forest beside them; chirping birds, singing crickets, and the distant sound of a nearby stream.

Trudging up the rough pavement towards the foot of the nearest hill, Y/N felt an ounce of guilt seep through as she marveled at the scenery before her. Bill was the reason she got the Romania assignment. She wasn't half bad a Curse Breaker. From an outsider's perspective, some would even call her brilliant. She's aced all her missions in her first year on the job—way ahead of all the others in her year, and was even able to crackdown a dark magic-infested tomb in an assignment she co-lead in Egypt. She was quick, smart, and as brave as the career entailed.

Only one thing stood between her and a good reputation in Gringotts. Her impulsiveness.

She couldn't help it. Y/N's successes partnered with tragedies—accidents; her brilliance came with sheer will and almost violent haste. The problem is you can't think twice Bill would always say. Not everything is done in a snap, Y/N.

Bill Weasley was the only senior Curse Breaker with enough patience to supervise her. It must have been fate or a miracle that had him in temporary assignment at the London Gringotts when she graduated Hogwarts. If she were received by anyone else, or if he were back in Egypt instead, she didn't think she'd ever make it out into the field. Or worse, last a few months.

"I'll be good," she mumbled to no one in particular. Or maybe she hoped that Bill would hear. She'd floo him again later.

Trekking up the slope with hands snuggled warm inside her faux-fur-lined pockets, Y/N inhaled the fresh earth surrounding her. This was her calling. Nature. Adventure. The unknown. She was fantastic with spells and jinxes and once thought of becoming an Auror—but Aurors spent too much time indoors, on desks, drowning in paperwork and tailing dark wizards. She knew in her heart she wasn't born to enforce the law.

On the opposite side of the hill was a deep gorge between two towering mountains and a long serpentine stream. Elated at the sight, she followed the gentle flow of water over the rocks. Without thinking (because when does she ever), she slipped off her boots and socks, and despite the chilly morning, prepared to wade the ice-cold water. She dipped one toe in for good measure—a pause.

That couldn't be right.

Submerging one whole foot into the water confirmed her confusion. Strange. Almost all waterways in Romania led to the Black Sea, if not the Adriatic. Why was it warm?

This isn't the bathing stream she thought. The senior Curse Breakers back at camp had instructed them of assigned fresher areas where warming charms would be cast. She didn't remember this gorge being part of last night's tour.

Ankles deep in the water, Y/N trailed the soft currents. It was deliciously warm. A deliberate contrast to the icy breeze left by the trail ends of winter. It was supposedly mid-spring, but the winds still gave her the chills.

She took no notice of how far she was going, the water neither rising nor falling. If she were to guess it must've almost been half an hour given by the direction of the sun. The warm water and small pebbles were therapeutic beneath her feet. The walk didn't tire her at all.

Finally, the chasm's end came to view. Heart beating with excitement, she hastened her pace, dampening the legs of her trousers that she attempted to roll up. But just as her feet crossed the lip between the two mountains flanking her, she felt the oddest sensation: it began at the top of her head, traveling down her arms to her toes—as if a big fat raindrop landed on her scalp and entered her body.

She glanced at the clear blue sky. There was no cloud in sight for miles.

And then, it was suddenly very humid.

"What the..." she glanced back through the gorge. Nothing was out of order and nobody was in sight. Looking down at her feet, her surroundings were now as warm as the water she stood on. Her parka felt too thick.

Again, strange.

Trying to shake away her curiousness, Y/N trudged on.

All is well she chanted inside her head. All is well and the wind just blows differently on this side of the alps.

But no matter what she told herself, ripples of unease still disturbed Y/N. She was beginning to sweat and it wasn't just her nerves. The wind didn't blow differently on this side of the mountains because there was no wind. It was dry, dank, and very very warm.

To rattle her nerves even further, the water she was wading on was getting hotter as she went on that she had to leap on land once again. But as soon as her bare soles made contact with the grass, she yelped in pain.

"Merlin—OW."

The earth was burning. As if it bathed in the sun for too long. As if she were in the middle of a dry desert. She knew the feeling, she's been to Egypt. But why the bloody hell would Romanian soil feel this hot? Moreso in the heart of the Southern Carpathians?

Locating a jutted-out slab of rock, Y/N hopped over to sit and gather her bearings, drying her damp feet and staring at her boots and socks. She didn't want to slip them back on. The heat was intense. But it was either the boots or the sizzling soil.

She shrugged off her parka after lacing up her boots and was grateful for her reckless choice of wardrobe this morning. She opted for a ribbed shirt under her jacket—instead of a sweater—in urgent intention to get away from a nagging Bill. Now it served her well. It wasn't as thin as she would have deemed appropriate for the current temperature, but at least her neck and arms could breathe.

Gazing over the expanse of the clearing she emerged in, she suddenly became aware of the lack of green in the area. The grass was almost a withering brown—crunchy and dry. Trees weren't scattered about like the thick oaks all over the Curse Breaker camp; instead, they were clumped, almost systematically, in relatively rectangular patch formations. As if deliberately rooted as such.

Muggles Y/N thought. It was only them who had the peculiar habit of reorganizing nature.

Tying her parka around her waist, she treaded the clearing, the grass crisp beneath her boots, and approached the nearest cluster of trees. She wondered if this were one of the areas they'd be digging up. Senior Curse Breaker Digby Youssif oriented them of specific crackdown areas to look forward to in the next few months. Although almost all wizarding families were well-accounted for in Romania, there were still trifling amounts of intel on hidden vaults under protective spells cast by untraceable ancient tribes.

Y/N loved digging assignments. She was particularly fond of discovery. And if Ancient Runes was Hogwarts' least-loved lesson, she rather enjoyed Professor Babbling's classes. Well, most of the time. It was her pride and joy to have snagged an 'Outstanding' for her O.W.Ls—

Crack!

A sudden gust of wind whipped through the trees ahead of her. On instinct, Y/N drew her wand from her belt loop. Nothing was so dangerous about the wind. But it felt so...

The sound came out of nowhere, she thought it was imagining it. A steady drumming beat. Powerful and humming. An engine? she thought. But that was impossible. They were told that the area was blocked off from muggles for the duration of their stay. She paused in front of a towering ashtree. The sound was growing louder and louder. Nearer. She didn't know why but she was compelled with the need to hide.

Climb.

She felt ridiculous, clambering up an ashtree and settling on its thickest branch. Her superiors back at camp were clear that the mountains were safe, its perimeters were secured for their dig. Curse Breakers always made sure missions wouldn't come across outside interference.

Then why was her heart beating so fast?

The drumming sound was growing nearer. Behind her—above.

Peering at the sky through the leaves, a massive dark figure swooped overhead and landed with an earth-shaking thud on the clearing right in front of her tree.

Y/N felt like she was going to choke on her own spit when a deafening, earsplitting roar echoed through the mountains.

Dragon.

Fully grown, enormous, and vicious-looking, the beast had emerald scales that glinted in the morning sun. Its body was bulky, way stockier compared to the common dragons in textbooks. It had a massive head that seemed even larger than its body, and on it sprouted two long glittering golden horns. Its claws had the same golden color, and it was rearing onto its hind legs, hunching over a figure... chewing...

All the breakfast Y/N had only hours before felt like rising up her throat. An enormous dragon only meters in front of her was chewing on a dead animal, clearly having his own meal. And there she was, perched on an ashtree, ready for dessert.

Don't panic she told herself, but feeling green. She's never faced a dragon on a mission before. They tackled them in her first year on the job—Curse Breakers didn't really need training, the task calling for hands-on work—but never in her life did she ever think she'd have to face a real dragon.

I don't have to face it Y/N thought, I just have to stay here until it flies away, and run back to camp.

Wiggling up to a squat, she eyed the neighboring branch a few feet to her right which was higher up and positioned behind a thicker cluster of leaves. It didn't require a jump, but more of a really careful split; hugging the trunk tightly, she stretched her right foot across, shifting her weight to her right leg, her arms choking the tree trunk in a death grip, legs spread wide midair—

"Scuzati-ma?"

Y/N didn't fall. Thank Merlin she didn't fall. But she lost her momentum in surprise and panic, her left foot sliding from the previous branch, making her push off the trunk in haste, throwing her weight across completely. She grabs a dangling thin branch above her at the last minute, her body tilted towards the forest floor.

A forest floor where a man now stood, peering up at her curiously.

She was breathing hard, her heart thumping erratically, both from the fear of falling and being heard by the dragon so close by.

"Er—esti bine?" the man asked. Y/N saw that he had his arms out as if braced to catch her if she fell. When she didn't answer, the man spoke again, "Ai nevoie de ajutor?"

She blinked down at him. "What?"

He chuckled. She hated it. It hurt her pride. "I said, do you need any help?"

He was loud. Too loud. She righted herself on the branch, pulling to lean back on the trunk behind her. Then risking a peek, she checked on the dragon who was still munching on the dead cow with gusto.

She looked back down to find the man with his eyebrows raised at her, his face painting amusement. It was impossible not to take note of his red mane pulled into a low bun. He looked awfully familiar... and he was going to get them killed.

"Could you," she whispered as loudly as she could, "keep your voice down?"

The man snickered once more, showing no effort of lowering his tone. "Why?"

"Are you blind?" she wanted to strangle him. "There's a bloody dragon!"

The redhead glanced at the scaly beast and heaved out a sigh. "Okay. Yeah, you're right. It's way past breakfast. He's missing nap time."

Y/N looked at him incredulously. He shrugged, "But what can I do? He slept in this morning. Lazy beast." Looking back up, he asked, "Want to meet him?"

He's mental she thought. That had to be it.

But the redhead only laughed. He keeps laughing. He must've noticed the stupefied expression on her face because he simmered. "Give him a minute and you can come down. It's already his fifth haul so he's bound to get dozy and fly back to the nest." He started walking towards the clearing when he paused and turned back, "Although, you can come down now. I promise he won't eat you."

Y/N watched as the man walked up to the feasting dragon—she was peering behind the thick tree trunk, using it as a shield. He's insane. Drawing a wand from a sheath attached to his calf, the man aimed a stunning spell right by the beast's tail.

"Alright, Darius, I think you've had enough," he called. He kept his distance, a good few meters away, but his gait was calm, almost lazy.

The dragon glanced at the man, its fangs bloody. Y/N wanted to grab the redhead and run. But it was a crazy thought, and she was rooted on her spot on the tree branch, frozen in fear.

The man gave a sharp whistle and the dragon grunted, smoke coming out of its nostrils. It ignored him and continued to munch on the cow.

Another stunning spell was aimed right by its claws and the dragon emitted a low growl. Y/N didn't know if she was imagining it but the creature seemed sluggish on its feet, swaying... almost drowsy.

"Off you go," said the man, "up." He sent one more stunning spell right in front of its snout. It was a clear miss, purely intentional.

The dragon heaved a loud angry roar. But instead of diving for the man like she expected, it started flapping its wings, gaining momentum. Y/N held onto the tree trunk tighter so as not to be swayed by the sudden rush of winds the creature was yielding. And then with a strong push off the ground, up it soared, growling low in its throat, and was out of sight.

Y/N's legs felt like jelly slugs, but her arms refused to let go of the tree trunk. What in Merlin's name just happened?

"Y/N."

She gave a short yelp, coughing on her next breath. "Excuse me?"

The man was back, now by the foot of the tree once again. "Come down."

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

He had a really handsome smile. A really familiar, handsome smile...

"I should be offended," said the man. "Come down." There it was again, that smile. "I'll catch you."

I'll catch you.

I'll catch you....

 "Come on, Y/N, I'll catch you!"

"No you won't!" said Y/N. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

She was perched on the beech tree by the Black lake, her legs dangling above the shallow water. She had attempted to retrieve her Spellman's Syllabry textbook that Cassian Loxias chucked up the branches for fun.

"Yes I will, I promise," consoled Charlie. "I'm a prefect, remember?" he gestured to his badge, "I'll make sure you're safe."

Sniffing up snot that was escaping her nose, she hiccuped softly against the back of her hand. "Our prefect doesn't do that very much."

Charlie chuckled. "I'll make sure to have a word with Professor Sprout about her Hufflepuff prefects."

When he saw the horror on her face, he held up his hands, "It didn't come from you of course. Will you come down now? I swear I'll catch you."

Y/N looked into Charlie Weasley's eyes and saw nothing but pure candor. Biting her lip, she said, "Do cross your heart, or hope to die?"

He traced a cross right above his chest. "Cross my heart, or hope to die."

 "Y/N. Y/N?"

Y/N blinked.

Charlie Weasley. Charlie dragon-tamer Weasley. Charlie the hot brother Weasley—

"Are you still breathing? Do you need me up there?"

Trying to gather her bearings, Y/N extracted herself from her hold on the tree trunk, went down onto a squat, and leaped off, landing on the crunchy grass with a thump.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her as she dusted her trousers, "I see you don't need catching anymore."

She took in the man before her. "Charlie Weasley."

His grin was dazzling."Caught on, have you?

From up close, Y/N could now see the familiar freckles splattered all over his nose and cheeks. He was towering over her like he always did. She used to be the little second year Hufflepuff always idling by the entrance to the Great Hall hoping to bump into the famous Charlie Weasley. Studying on the Quidditch pitch, watching him behind her textbook, captaining the Gryffindor team. Climbing the beech tree by the lake again and again, hoping Charlie Weasley would somehow walk by once more to offer her a hand...

There were so many things she could've done, seeing him again for the first time after all these years. He was gone as soon as he graduated Hogwarts, flying to Romania to study dragons. Everyone always thought Charlie would be going Quidditch pro, being captain and seeker. He had the build, the skills, and the charm. Hogwarts alone had fan clubs in his name and rumor had it that the Falmouth Falcons were just waiting for him to finish seventh year.

But others didn't see Charlie as Y/N did. They didn't see him hoarding books on care of magical creatures in the library. They didn't notice him sneaking off to Hagrid's on the weekends, taking Fang for walks or feeding the Blast Ended Skrewts in the garden. Nobody paid attention to the copy of Fantastic Beasts And Where to Find Them that Charlie practically glued to his side. Only Y/N did. And now that she thought about it, she didn't like that she knew so much. It made her feel like a creep.

So instead of hugging him in delight like she actually wanted, she took a swipe at his shoulder.

"You git," she hissed. "You scared me to death! How did you do that? I thought taming dragons was impossible."

"It is. Most of the time," Charlie shrugged. "Darius is a Romanian Longhorn. Mostly harmless compared to the others especially when he's full. Not that difficult to send him back to the nest when he can barely stand on his feet."

"Harmless? I could've been dessert!"

Charlie laughed. He was still always laughing. "You look delicious, yes, but I'm not letting Darius have you."

What the fu—Y/N inhaled slowly, cautiously. Then exhaled through her nose. She didn't know how to respond. Seeing him again after so long, without warning or preparation, was messing with her senses

"It's good to see you, Y/N," he said and walked closer. Close enough to tugged at her braid. She didn't know why he did it, but he looked like he just had to. "You look good."

Y/N's heart was beating rapidly once more, but this time, for all the wrong reasons. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Charlie gazed back into her eyes as if seeing her for the first time.

"Too long."

Again, she didn't know how long it took her to reply, but she cleared her throat, "How—did you know it was me? The first time?"

Charlie's eyes were still roaming all over her face. "No. Not until you spoke."

Y/N must've held a questioning look because he added, "I'll never forget that voice."

He was saying such strange things. Were they strange? Or was it just because he affected her so?

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you wouldn't come down, would you? I see you still have a thing for trees."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I didn't know the dragon reservation was in the alps," she said. "Do you know we're camping nearby?"

"'Course I do. You lot are beside dragon territory for a reason."

Excitement and fear raised Y/N's nerves. "What are you talking about?"

Charlie bit his lip. "You'll see."

"Are we digging in the reservation?"

He was walking out into the clearing now, beelining back towards the opening of the gorge.

"Charlie!" Y/N jogged to keep up. "Are we?"

He only smiled, "Patience, darling."

Darling. He used to call her that all the time even when they were back in Hogwarts. She always tried to ignore the fluttering feeling her chest made when he used the endearment, reminding herself that he must've used it on everyone else, not just her.

"Why did no one back at camp tell us anything?"

"I probably should've kept my mouth shut," was his only reply. They were crossing the two mountains flanking the stream, and as soon as they cut through the border, Y/N felt the same sensation she did when she went through the clearing. But this time in reverse, it was as if the raindrop was sucked back up.

She glanced up at the mountains. "Did you feel that?"

"Shield spells," explained Charlie. "To keep the muggles out. Temperature charms as well to regulate the reservation climate. Although the dragons do enough of their warming on their own, it's for precaution."

They walked up the stream, tracing back Y/N's previous path.

"Are you bringing me back to camp?" she asked.

"That, and I have to see Digby. Iron out tomorrow's schedule."

"So we are digging inside the reservation," Y/N didn't know if she was more thrilled or afraid.

Charlie glanced at her, "You heard nothing from me."

Studying his features as they strolled, Y/N couldn't help but admire how much Charlie Weasley grew up to be. He's always been lean and strong, especially with being an athlete back at Hogwarts, but now he seemed so much larger than life. Red tendrils were escaping his low bun and framing his chiseled face, there were a few scars on his nose and one under his lip. She shouldn't have been able to see it but she couldn't stop staring. He was big. Stockier than she'd ever seen him; hands wrapped in gauze and rope slung over a hook on his hip.

Charlie Weasley, dragon-tamer.

And he was staring right back at her.

"You have to take me to see more dragons," Y/N breathed. She didn't know where her voice went. It was all airy and she didn't like it. She hoped he would assume it was because of their walk.

Charlie stopped, deep brown eyes boring into her own. He was panting slightly too. Maybe it was the walk.

"Okay," he exhaled. "Promise."

"Cross your heart?" she almost whispered. Almost.

Two fingers traced a cross over Charlie's chest, his gaze not leaving hers, "Cross my heart."

[pedro-pascal-love]

Officer Brown Eyes

One Shots ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ Join My Taglist

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: During the events on Morak, Reader sees Din’s face for the first time, and isn’t sure how to handle it.

Warnings: Language, angst, SO MUCH FLUFF

⟸ Raise Warriors ❖ Moving On ⟹

They had to get the child back. By any means necessary. Which meant having to pick up Migs fucking Mayfeld to help them out.

“Dank farrik, I do not like this idea,” you said dramatically. “I don’t like the fact that we have to team up with Mayfeld yet again, especially after what happened last time!”

“If we want to get the kid back, we don’t have a choice,” Din replied as you all waited for Cara to get back with Mayfeld. You’d traveled with him since before the Child entered the picture and had learned to pick up how Din was feeling based on the way he spoke and his body language.  Din Djarin was a man of few words but fewer facial expressions, so having to gauge how he felt through his modulated helmet was hard for most people, but not for you. You could tell that Din was worried. He was afraid that The Child was hurt or worse. You knew that Din would do anything in his power to get the Child back, even if it meant busting out an ex-Imperial sharpshooter who’d double-crossed you both the last time you ran into each other.

You watched from the shadows as Boba and Fennec went out to greet Mayfeld. You smirked as you saw Mayfled stop in his tracks and look at Boba, having to do a double-take.

“You know, for a second, I thought you were this other guy,” Mayfled stated in relief with a smile. You watched as Din took that opportunity to descend the ship's ramp to greet Mayfeld and saw the color drain from his face.

“Mayfeld,” Din greeted coolly.

“Hey, Mando. Long time,” Mayfled greeted nervously, not sure if Din would blast time where he stood or something else.

“What, you came here to kill me?” He joked.

“All you need to know is that I bent a lot of rules to bring you along,” Cara replied begrudgingly.

“Why am I so lucky?” Mayfeld retorted.

“Because you’re Imperial,” Cara glared.

“Hey, that was a long time ago, all right?” he defended.

“You still know your Imperial clearances and protocols, don’t you?” Din asked, cutting right to the chase. Mayfeld looked worried and watched as Cara and the others walked up the ramp before he finally sighed and glanced back at the prison planet he’d been assigned to. He wasn’t sure if he preferred to be going with them or if he should just stay, but he chose to leave with them anyways. As he boarded the ship, he saw you looking at him with a look that would kill anyone in an instant, and he gulped as he sat down.

“We need coordinates to Moff Gideon’s cruiser,” Din stated as he took his seat next to you.

“Moff Gideon?” Mayfeld scoffed. “Yeah, forget it. Just take me back to the scrapyard. I’m not doin’ that.”

“They have his kid,” Cara explained with annoyance. Mayfeld looked at Cara, then to you and Din, actually looking a little concerned.

“The little green guy?” he asked.

“Yeah, the ‘little green guy,” Cara replied, annoyed with Mayfeld’s attitude already.

“So…..I help you guys get him back, you guy let me go?” Mayfeld asked hopefully. Cara rolled her eyes.

“That’s not how this works,” she replied

“Well, then what’s in it for me?” Mayfeld retorted. You were ready to gouge his eyes out at that statement. You tensed and straightened your posture, looking Mayfeld dead in the eye.

“A better view,” Cara responded.

“You get to live,” you replied heatedly. “You either help, or you somehow end up blown to oblivion, and Cara writes it off as if you tried to escape custody.” Mayfeld gulped and took a moment to ponder his choices.

“All right, but here’s the thing. I can’t get those coordinates unless I have access to an internal Imperial terminal. I believe there’s one on Morak,” Mayfeld finally stated.

“Morak? There’s nothing on Morak,” Din replied, not trusting what Mayfeld had to say.

“It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?” Mayfeld replied. “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.” You looked at Din skeptically but nodded.

“Fett, punch in the coordinates to Morak,” Din instructed Boba through the commlink.

“Copy that,” you heard Boba reply and felt the ship take off towards Morak.

“If you’re lying to us, Mayfeld, I just want you to know that you will suffer an excruciating and prolonged end by my hands,” you threatened as you pointed a knife at him before going to sharpen it. Mayfeld visibly gulped as you felt a hand on your knee.

“Whatever it takes to get the kid back,” Din said softly to you in an attempt to quell your fears. You nodded and went back to sharpening your blade.

Due to Boba’s initial scan, you all decided that a full frontal assault would be too risky, considering the refinery was crawling with Imperial troopers, so you decided to go in quietly. After some debate on how to get into the refinery undetected, you chose to have Mayfeld and one other disguise themselves as stormtroopers to get into the refinery. Din had insisted on going with Mayfeld while you stayed with Fennec and Cara.

“No, I’m coming with you both,” you insisted, leaving no room for argument. Din sighed.

“Fine, but you have to promise me that you’ll be careful,” he said, looking down at you through the visor. You nodded, feeling the worry in his tone but knowing he wouldn’t convey it any other way due to present company.

“I promise. I’ll make sure that things go according to plan,” you said with a shrug.

Once you, Din, and Mayfeld had successfully hijacked and disguised yourselves as stormtroopers, you began to make your way to the refinery. Things have been going smoothly so far until you came across a village on route to the refinery. The villagers watched as you slowly drove by, and the air was tense.

“Yeah, Empire, New Republic, it’s all the same to these people,” Mayfeld said as you gazed out the window at the haggard villagers. “Invaders on their land is all we are. I’m just sayin’ somewhere someone in this galaxy is ruling, an others are being ruled. I mean, look at your race. Do you think all those people that died in wars fought by Mandalorians actually had a choice? So how are they any different than the Empire?” Mayfeld questioned. You rolled your eyes and could feel Din doing the same thing.

“Watch it, Mayfeld,” you warmed.

“If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing, if you’re born on Alderaan, you believe something else,” Mayfeld continued. “But guess what? Neither of them exist anymore,” he said with a shrug. You growled, getting annoyed the more he spoke.

“Hey, I’m just a realist. I’m a survivor, just like you,” he defended.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” Din replied, “You and I are nothing alike.”

“I don’t know. Seems to me like your rules start to change when you get desperate,” Mayfeld said with a glance. “I mean, look at ya. You said you couldn’t take your helmet off, but now you got a stormtrooper one on, so what’s the rule? Is it that you can’t take off your Mando helmet, or can’t show your face? ‘Cause there’s a difference. Look, I’m just sayin’ we’re all the same. Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy. As far as I’m concerned, if you can make it through your day and still sleep at night, you’re doin’ better than most.”

At his words, you glanced over at Din, not being able to tell how he felt since you sat behind him but sensing the thoughts coursing through his mind. The Creed forbade him from removing his helmet in front of any living being, but lately, you’d witnessed differently from other Mandalorians. Boba Fett and Bo Katan were evidence of there being a different way that Mandalorians lived, and you’d hoped that maybe one day Din would take up their way of life instead of the stricter way that the Tribe lived, hiding in the shadows and never showing their face. You hoped that maybe one day Din would see it fit to remove his helmet unless going into battle, and you’d be able to gaze into the eyes of the man that you were hopelessly and secretly in love with. But that was a spice dream at this point. Mayfeld’s other words rang through your ears. You and Din had become desperate in more ways than one to get the Child back. At this point, you’d do anything, and everything to ensure the safe retrieval of the Child and knew that Din was very much on the same boat.

As you made your way to the refinery, things took an unexpected turn that neither of you foresaw. It seemed that on Morak pirates wanting to blow up the rhydonium, and you were getting very annoyed with having to do things the hard way just to get some information on Moff Gideon. Luckily, the three of you had made it safely to the refinery after some excitement and with a bit of assistance from the Empire.

“Dank farrik,” you muttered as you saw the stormtroopers line up and salute the transport. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

The three of you finally disembarked from the transport and were greeted warmly by other stormtroopers, thinking you were a colleague of theirs. Oh, were they wrong. Mayfeld guided you and Din to the officer’s mess hall where he suspected the terminal would be, and low and behold; it was there. You watched through the visor of your helmet as Mayfeld began to walk into the mess hall, abruptly stop, then turn back around and made his way back to you and Din.

“I can’t go in there,” Mayfeld stated

“Why not?” Din asked.

“That’s Valin Hess,” Mayfeld replied.

“Who?”

“That’s Valin Hess. I used to serve under him,” Mayfeld stated nervously.

“Will he recognize you?”

“I don’t know,” Mayfeld said. “I was just a field operative, but I’m not takin’ the chance. It’s over.” You held your arm out to stop Mayfeld from walking away.

“Let’s just do this quick, and we can get out of here,” Din said sternly, also blocking the way.

“I can’t do it, okay? We have to abort. I’m sorry.”

“No, I can’t,” Din said. “If we don’t get those coordinates, I’ll lose the kid forever. Your heart broke at his words. You know that Grogu meant a lot to Din; he meant a lot to you too, but you knew that Din would do anything to get him back.

“Give me the data stick,” Din said.

“It’s not gonna work,” Mayfeld replied. “In order to access the network, the terminal has to scan your face,” he explained.

Well fuck, you thought

“Give it to me,” you heard Din say, and before you could respond and go in yourself, you watched as Din walked into the mess hall himself with the stick. You grew anxious watching the officers watch him awkwardly salute and then make his way to the terminal. Your anxiety rose once you saw him get to the terminal and then turn to glance at the officers and you. Your heart nearly stopped as you watched Din remove his helmet as he faced the terminal and place the data stick into it. You watched with bated breath as Valin Hess approached Din at the terminal and faced him. You looked at Mayfeld, hoping he’d have some sort of solution but saw he was just as fearful as you were. You heard the officer ask Din for a TK number and knew it was over. The mission was blown.

“This is my Commanding Officer, TK-593, sir,” Mayfeld interjected as he walked up to Din and Valin Hess, you following close behind him, your helmet removed as well at this point. “I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant TK-111, sir.”

“TK-660, sir,” you added as you stood next to the two of them, watching as Din awkwardly looked at you and Mayfeld and back at the officer, his body rigid.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a little bit since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab,” Mayfeld smoothly said. Valin looked over at Din.

“What’s your name, Officer?” Valin loudly said. Din pretended not to hear and raised his eyebrows.

“We just call him Brown Eyes. Isn’t that right, Officer?” Mayfeld covered as Din looked at him and nodded with a slight smile.

“Sir, we should go fill out those TPS reports so we can go recharge the power coils,” you interjected. The three of you proceeded to walk away but were stopped when Valin said you weren’t dismissed.

DANK FARRIK, you thought. Valin proceeded to praise the three of you for being the only transport that successfully delivered the rhydonium that day and insisted on a drink.

You were on edge the entire time Valin and Mafeld were speaking. Mayfeld just had to bring up his history with the Empire and Operation Cinder, and you instantly knew that this was going to end badly. Very very badly. You saw Din glance at Mayfeld at one point and slightly shake his head as if warning Mayfeld not to start anything, but Mayfeld paid him no mind. Things ended up going astray yet again that day, and the three of you ended up in a firefight to get out. You were getting tired of this. You managed to kick open part of the window and climb up to the roof, where Boba swiftly rescued you, and he was able to swiftly release a seismic charge to stop the two tie fighters that were on your tail. You let out a breath as you finally were clear of any dangers and got up to take off the stormtrooper uniform, ready to get out of the blasted thing and never speak of what happened again today.

You walked over to the bag that held your clothes and Din’s armor when you felt a presence behind you. Closing your eyes and sighing, you turned around to look at him as he stood before you in the cursed stormtrooper uniform.

“Din, I….I’m so sorry that you had to go through that,” you started, as tears well in your eyes. Knowing just how much the Creed meant to him and knowing that you were part of the reason why he broke it tore you to pieces. You looked down at the ground as he approached you and placed his hand under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“It…..It had to be done,” Din said softly. You looked at him bewildered. “Whatever it takes to get the kid back, remember?” You nodded.

“Yeah, but no living being can see your face. That’s part of who you are,” you pleaded, tears now fully streaming down your face. “I don’t want to be the reason that you’ll no longer be able to wear the helmet or armor.” Din shook his head, taking his hand away from your face.

“You could do nothing to control what happened, cyar’ika,” Din reassured you. You shook your head and shut your eyes.

“….Mando…Din….I just…I can’t unsee what I saw. You have to fix it. I’ll leave if you want, or if you have to do what must be done, then do be it,” you urged. Din shook his head.

“I already lost the kid; I can’t lose you too,” he stated as he took your hands in his. Your eyes widened at the revelation. You watched as Din brought your hands up to his helmet and placed them on the bottom, with his hands resting gently on your forearms.

“It’s ok. I’d been thinking about this for a while now, and I want this,” Din softly said, gazing down at you, his voice quivering slightly from nervousness.

“……Din, you…You don’t know what you’re asking,” you tried to reason as you tried to remove your hands from his helmet, but his hands held firmly onto your arms and kept them in place.

“I do, cyar’ika,” he said as he moved your hands up, lifting the helmet slightly. “I’d rather it be you to remove my helmet by your own terms than by anyone else.” You still couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You respected him too much; even seeing part of his neck and chin made you avert your gaze.

“I….I can’t….” You spoke softly.

“You can. I want you to see my face,” he said as he guided your hands to lift his helmet once more.

“You…..You’ll have to do it,” you pleaded. “I can’t do it.” Din chuckled and nodded. You watched as he guided your hands to lift the helmet more. First, you saw the rest of his chins. Then his lips. Followed by his nose and then his eyes, until finally, the helmet had been completely removed, and he stood before you. You averted your eyes again, but he swiftly stopped you and tilted your face until you were yet again looking into his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul and know everything that you were thinking. You chuckled, and Din looked at you puzzled.

“Mayfeld called you Officer Brown Eyes while we were at the refinery,” you stated. “I think it’s very fitting; I might just call you that from now on.” Din chuckled and shook his head.

“If you want, but only you’re allowed to call me that,” Din stated as he stepped closer to you until you were pressed up against his chest. “But on one condition.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” you questioned, feeling the heat radiating from him as your gaze shifted between his eyes and his lips. You licked your lips and gave him a small smile. “Name your terms, Mando.”

“Say you’ll be mine,” he replied as he licked his lips as well and brought his face closer to yours.

“I think that can be arranged,” you said softly before closing the gap, and your lips met.

As your lips met, you felt a fire ignite within you, and electricity pulse through your body. It rippled down your arms and legs, and you brought your hands up to rest on his neck and play with his brown curls, deepening the kiss. Din brought his hands to rest on your hips and pull you closer as he slipped his tongue between your lips, further deepening it. After a moment, you both pulled away and rested your foreheads together.

“I’m yours, Din Djarin, now let’s go get our child,” you lovingly said. All he did was nod and close the gap between you yet again with a smile.

.fin

⟸ Raise Warriors ❖ Moving On ⟹

[bucketslutz]

Get Out the Way

Chapter 2: You're a bounty hunter, start acting like it

Summary: You were successful as a bounty hunter for a while, and now as a skilled fighter working in an arena. You were craving excitement, until a Mandalorian crosses your path and offers you the opportunity to help bring his kid back and avenge the death of someone you lost long ago. Working with the bucket-head, though, isn't going as smoothly as you thought. Will it all be worth it in the end?

You can read Get Out the Way on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+ only pls, violence, gore, language, bounty hunting, enemies to lovers sorta, slow burn af, banter, grogu in danger, AFAB reader, badass female reader, yes reader is a bounty hunter, smut eventually but for now they hate each other

Chapter Summary: Mando and Reader continue on their journey to obtain the child.

This had to have been the worst fucking idea you’ve ever had in your life, and you’ve done some pretty dumb shit. Metal head went out of his way to ask for your help, and won’t even let you do anything. Flight check? No, you’re “not the co-pilot.” Hyperspace coordinates? Nope, “I didn’t hire you to punch in numbers.” Recalibrate the distributors? “I don’t need your help.” Well, for someone who was very eager to get your help on this mission, he really hates letting you help with virtually anything. You feel useless. You’ve scrubbed your blasters at least four times since entering hyperspace. You don’t think they were even this shiny when you bought them. No amount of credits in the republic could be worth this. Maker, you’ve not even left hyperspace and you’re already wanting to wring out his neck. He’s always so unnervingly quiet. You can never tell what he’s thinking or when he’s looking at you. You know he’s there and that he must think and feel like you do, but he might as well be a moving statue.

“Dank farrik,” you curse to yourself after you accidentally nick your finger on a jagged edge of your blaster. You exhale, trying to keep yourself collected, and get up off of one of the crates you were sitting on in the hull of the ship. Crossing to the other side of the hull, you open the compartment that holds the first aid kit so you can address your wound. As you dig through the kit for the bandages, you try to ignore the sound of boots descending the ladder. The footsteps grow louder and it takes everything in you to not tell Mando to go fuck off somewhere else and stop micromanaging everything you do. That’s another thing, ever since you stepped foot on this ship, he double or triple checks everything you do. He checked the shipyards at least five times to make sure you brought all the camtonos inside the crest. It’s been driving you up a wall. He gave you the impression that he had complete faith in you and your abilities, but won’t let you do anything without him checking up on you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, simply. There’s no anger in his voice, he’s not accusing you or anything. He seems to be asking out of pure curiosity.

“Nothing. It’s not important,” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand as you’re still digging through the first aid kit for just one bandage to wrap your finger in. “Where the fuck is it?” you hiss under your breath. Mando is still standing by you, and it’s kind of weirding you out. What does he want? Is he laughing at you? Does he find your current state pitiful; bloody hand, frustrated tone, and desperate searching? You can’t understand a single fucking thing about him with that stupid helmet on and it kills you. You finally slam your hand on the edge of the first aid kit and glare up at the helmet that’s been fixed on you for the past two minutes. “May I help you with something?” Your tone is sharp enough to pierce the beskar.

“It looks like you need my help more than I need yours.” Maker, is that why he’s hovering? Why didn’t he just fucking say that in the first place! He makes everything so unnecessarily difficult for no reason. Why can’t he make up his mind on whether he wants you to not do anything or help you with everything? Before you can reply snarkily to his answer, he reaches above your head and into the compartment that held the first aid kit. He digs through it for a moment, then pulls out a box full of bandages. You can’t see his face, but you’re sure he’s smiling smugly underneath his helmet. You wish you could wipe that smile off of his face with the cold, metal floor of the ship. He takes a few steps backwards before turning towards the ladder leading to the cockpit.

“We should be dropping out of hyperspace in about two days, I suggest you get some sleep while you can,” Mando turns to you to say before climbing up the ladder and disappearing above you. Sighing in defeat, you close the first aid kit shut and stuff it back into the compartment above your head, the box of bandages following shortly. He makes you feel so damn stupid. You’re capable, and he is fully aware of that fact. But he has absolutely no faith in  you. Why would he hire you if he didn’t trust you? Have I even given him a reason to trust me? You think to yourself. Dank Farrik. You used to work for Wraak. You used to work for the man who just kidnapped his kid. He must think you still have some weird devotion to him. But can you blame him? All of Wraak’s minions have an obscene devotion to him that’s cult-like. But you don’t, especially after what he did. You want to see him suffer. But you’re not so sure that shiny knows that. Why would he trust you? You haven’t done anything to prove that you deserve his respect. What are you supposed to do? Kiss his ass and tell him how great he is? You won’t stoop that low for any man. No, not until he starts treating you like an equal. But you don’t think you both will get anything done if you don’t learn to trust each other, and you’re not so sure how you can fix that. You’re beginning to feel like shouldn’t have gone on this mission. Maybe you should just take up Mando’s advice and get some rest.

…

The sound of boots descending a ladder wakes you and you groan. Realizing the position that you settled in left a dull ache in your lower back, you arch your spine hearing it crack under the pressure. The pain in your lower back immediately puts you in a sour mood. Maker, with that armor it’d be a miracle if he could infiltrate Wraak’s base without alerting all of his men and the rest of the galaxy. He must’ve realized that he woke you up because he’s standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting to see if you’ll say something to him. Or at least you think that’s why he’s standing there. Anything’s possible when that helmet is on. He crosses to the other side of the hull where his cot is concealed.

“Oh, are you going to bed? Fantastic. Good for you, bucket-head. At least one of us can get some sleep around here,” you snide sarcastically. You stand up from your place on the floor and brush past Mando and up the ladder leading to the cockpit. As you climb, you hear the door leading to the cot slide open then promptly closed. You shut yourself in the cockpit, lit only by the control panel and the blue ambiance of hyperspace, and curse as you kick the side of the pilots chair in frustration. Maybe you’re just cranky from the lack of sleep, maybe you’re tired of Mando being the elusive womp-rat that he is. But you’re really feeling like a complete and utter idiot for taking this job. What made you think you could work alongside someone like him? Or work with anyone, for that matter. In all your years of bounty hunting, you never worked with someone else to obtain a bounty. You know what you’re doing, you don’t need some pompous asshole telling you where to go and what to do. You wouldn’t have made it so far in the guild if you weren’t capable. You probably could’ve killed Wraak without Mando’s help. Who gives a shit if he thinks you’re a skilled hunter? As flattering as it may be that a Mandalorian is impressed by your skills, you’re still stronger on your own. If you didn’t have to sell your ship, you could’ve made it to Wraak’s base faster than this garbage dump he considers a gunship. Glancing at the array of controls in front of you, something catches your eye, or rather the lack of something catches your eye. The knob that controls the auxiliary thrusters is missing. Finding it odd that someone as thorough as Mando could misplace something like that, you decide that instead of moping around you could go find it instead. A distraction would do you good, hell, maybe he might finally think you’re useful. You check the seat of the pilot’s chair for the knob along with the passenger seats, but they all were empty. You scanned the floor quickly, still not seeing any sign of it. You turn towards the control panel then take a few steps back so you’re able to get a wider view of the cockpit. Your eyes scanned the small space from corner to corner, the ship humming as it traversed through hyperspace, finally, your eye caught something laying underneath the control panel. You get down on your hands and knees and crawl underneath the panel. Reaching for the silver orb, you grin once you grab it. But like the idiot you are, you forget that you’re crouching for a reason, and attempt to stand up quickly. You’re reminded of your position in the cockpit when your head meets the edge of the control panel with a loud thud, forcing your chin into your chest awkwardly.

“ OW!” you shout in pain. “FUCK!” You can hear your voice carry through the tiny space you’ve been occupying, and you lean back till your ass hits the floor. You wince as you nurse the growing bump on the back of your head. You were too preoccupied with your new head injury, that you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps up the ladder and the door to the cockpit hiss open.

“What did you do?” Mando’s modulated voice calls when he enters.

“Oh I made cookies, you want some?” you replied feigning a perky disposition, you crane your neck behind you to look up at the armored man. The helmet tilts in a way that can only mean “Really? Are you kidding me?” and you continue, “I hit my head, what does it look like, smartass.”

He extends a hand to help you up, and you wave him off and use the pilots chair as leverage to stand up instead; you remain nursing the back of your head with the hand that’s still holding that stupid silver ball. You huff in vexation once you get back on your feet and glare up at Mando’s stupidly covered face. Even if I could see your face, it would still be a stupid face, you think to yourself. You reach over to the lever to put the knob back where it belonged when Mando suddenly and harshly grabs your wrist. He stares at your hand for a moment as he holds your wrist in a death grip. You wince at the offending pressure and try to jerk away from his hold on you.

“Don’t touch my ship,” he barks, then he rips the small orb from your hand and tucks it somewhere in his utility belt. That’s the most emotion you’ve gotten from him since you met him, and it’s over a stupid silver ball? You gape at him, angrily, and he turns to leave the cockpit but you stop him. “What the hell is wrong with you? You went out of your fucking way to hire me for this mission, you haven’t let me do anything to help you at all, and now you’re mad at me for a stupid little knob? Why can’t you just trust me?”

“I do trust you,” he replies, turning around to face you, and suddenly more composed than you are.

“That’s a load of Bantha shit,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. He suddenly crosses to you in only two strides and the helmet stares down at you. From this angle, your height difference is even more palpable.

“I hired you to help me get my kid back and kill Wraak,” he finally asserts, his finger poking the top of your sternum and his helmet only a few inches from your face. “That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. You’re not a co-pilot, you’re not an engineer, you’re a bounty hunter. Start acting like it.” His tone pierced your skull and replaced the sharp pain nestled in the back of your head. Storming off in a cloud of anger and frustration he turns and exits the cockpit, smacking the controls to the door and you watch as it hisses shut. He stomps down the ladder and you feel like punching yourself in the face. I’m an idiot. Of course, he hired you for your skills. He doesn’t need a fucking co-pilot or an engineer. He needs another bounty hunter. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You don’t know why, but him expressing disappointment in you stings. In thinking he had no faith in you, you realized that in actuality you had no faith in him. I should apologize to him. Yelling at him got me no where. If you’re going to work with him you need to start tolerating each other. Mando is a blunt person. Whatever he says, is exactly what he means. There’s no guessing with him, and you’re not used to that. There’s always an ulterior motive with other people; a hidden clause you didn’t sign up for. But for someone as secretive as he is, he somehow manages to be completely honest with his words. And you’re an idiot for thinking he meant anything other than exactly what he said. You should apologize.

…

 It’s been two days and you haven’t apologized. You haven’t even said a word to each other since the argument in the cockpit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re cowardice for not apologizing yet; you’re not even sure if he expects an apology. If he’s anything, he’s a man of few words, so maybe if you don’t say anything to him everything will be fine. Right? That’s going to be the plan, you’re going to ignore him unless it’s life or death. It’s not like you’ll need to be having any in-depth conversations about anything. This is strictly a business endeavor, nothing more, nothing less. You’re pulled from your thoughts when Mando approaches you and sits on a crate across from you in the hull. He pulls what looks like a bounty puck from his pocket and flicks it on. The face projected is familiar, it takes you a few moments to process who exactly it is. Once it clicks, you look up at him in confusion; your brow furrowed and you silently shrug a “what about it?” in response.

“This is who we’re going to be seeing on Numidian Prime. You know him?” Mando asks as he sets the puck down on a crate that’s nestled in front of you both.

“Well, of course. That’s Brehan, he was Wraak’s right hand man for years. Last I heard he retired and settled in the Mid Rim,” you responded. You were curious as to where Mando was going with this. If there was a bounty on Brehan, you would’ve known about it and took care of it. “But I don’t know if I can recall there being a bounty on his head.”

“There’s not,” he states simply. You tilt your head and raise your brows in surprise.

“Oh?” You lean forward in an attempt to urge him on to elaborate.

“I had Karga program a fake puck. We’re taking this to Numidian Prime and you’re going to show this to him. We want Brehan to think there’s a bounty on his head.”

“Why would we want him to think there’s a bounty on his head?” you ask, your forearms now resting on the tops of your thighs as you lean forward, still not understanding where Mando is going with this.

“He’ll want to get out of it by offering whatever he can. Spice, weapons, credits, but we’re not after his horde. We’re after his security clearances to Wraak’s base,” he iterates. And it all makes sense. Brehan retired about a month ago, and knowing Wraak, he wouldn’t have all new security protocols by now. You hated to admit it, but bucket-head’s plan didn’t sound too bad.

“That’s actually a really solid plan,” you say. Mando nods his head knowingly and leans back against the metal wall of the hull.

“There’s just one problem,” you continue. His helmet tilts towards you and he crosses his arms over his armored chest. “Brehan is still staunchly loyal to Wraak. If we show up asking for his security clearances, he’ll warn Wraak of our arrival then we’ll lose our only advantage on him. Wraak has numbers, we have the element of surprise. We could lose that by approaching Brehan.”

Mando leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His gloved hands lace together and you can only assume he’s deep in thought. You’re sure if you listened carefully enough, you could hear the gears in his head turning.

“Okay, I know what to do,” he says after a few pensive moments. He leans closer to you and explains the plan in further detail. You listen intently, digesting all the information. As annoying as he may be, he’s good at what he does. You both spent the rest of the trip in hyperspace detailing your course of action and all possible outcomes. There’s going to be a massive risk with this mission, but you’ve both surveyed all your options, and this is most likely your best one. The flashing of red lights and the sudden sound of rapid beeping brings you both back and Mando makes his way to the cockpit as the ship drops out of hyperspace. While he’s up there, you take the time to inventory all of your gear and make sure you have everything you could possibly need. You have extra power cells for your blasters for security, the mechanism of your shockwhips are in tact, your vibro daggers are stashed in your belt and various other hiding places. You feel secure that you’re well equipped for whatever is thrown at you and shiny. Deciding to join Mando in the cockpit, you put on the rest of your gear. You slip your hands into your maroon leather gloves, then shrug on your black trenchcoat before putting on your black, flat rim gambler hat on your head. It feels good to be back in your old getup again. You climb up the ladder and palm the controls watching as the doors part open with a mechanical hiss and you can see Numidian Prime through the transparisteel. The lush green planet was exactly where you’d expect Brehan to go; full of gambling, spice, and the seediest company in the galaxy. Brehan was cold blooded. He hated icy atmospheres and warm personalities. He needed to retire someplace full of soulless reptiles who wanted to hide from the same authorities he’s been hiding from. And what better place for a soulless reptile to thrive than the jungles of Numidian Prime? 

“I’m prepping the landing array,” Mando says, flicking various switches on and pressing buttons above his head. “I’m gonna try and land on the outskirts so we can avoid alerting Brehan of our arrival. Strap in.” 

You nod in understanding and take a seat to his right, watching as the ship enters the foggy atmosphere of the planet. The swamp trees stretched as far as the eye could see, nothing but green for miles and miles. The thick trees tangled with vines shifted as the ship approached a small clearing and you saw birds swarm above the branches from the sudden movement caused by the crest. Mando sets the ship down carefully between two massive swamp trees. The engines hum as they power down and you can hear the crest hiss and whirr as it settles. You follow Mando out of the cockpit and to the hull of the ship and wait with him as he grabs his gear, which doesn’t take long cause he is seemingly always prepared for action. Once he grabs his rifle, he presses a button and the side of the hull folds open. You step down with him and stare up at the lush greenery above your head. The various species of birds whistle and call throughout the jungle and you and Mando begin the trek to the compound Brehan is hiding at. You’re not sure why, but you feel awkward. Mando seems completely comfortable in silence, avoiding the winding roots at his feet and brushing imposing vines out of his way. But you feel strange in the silence, even though you vowed that you wouldn’t speak to him again unless it was completely necessary. Yet you have this strange urge to spark conversation, but you don’t peg Shiny as the kind to engage in small talk. So you remain on his tail in silence. As you both walk through the swampy jungle of Numidian Prime, you begin to pay attention to the cacophony of insects chirping and birds cawing as your boots squish into the soft soil with each step. It’s meditative out here, humid as all hell, but it’s beautiful. You could see yourself settling somewhere lush like this place. If you ever settle. You’re restless by nature. Always craving action and feeling incomplete without it. As much as you love punching idiots in Gundi’s arena, it doesn’t compare to hunting down bounties all over the galaxy. A stray tree root catches your foot and you’re snapped from your thoughts when you stumble into Mando. He loses his footing on the root he was stepping on and falls helmet first into the ground. You managed to find your footing before you had the chance to be taken down with him, and you can’t help but laugh at him. You clasp your hand over your mouth, not intending to make fun of him and hoping he didn’t notice. He pushes up off of the ground, his helmet now sporting a layer of mud over the front, and settles onto his knees as he attempts to wipe off the mud that’s obstructing his view with his forearm. You pray he doesn’t notice how hard you’re trying to hold in your laughter. He’s so stoic and unmoving, that seeing anyone as secure as he is tumbling down into a pile of mud makes you feel so much better about yourself.

“Quit laughing,” he barks, finally getting up on his feet and turning around to continue on his path to the compound. Was Mando...pouting? No way, not the Mandalorian. He was embarrassed. You know he was. And it’s absolutely hilarious to see him storm off like a child.

“Aww, is the big bad Mandalorian upset?” you tease, trying your best to hold in your giggles. You hear him sigh under his helmet and he balls his fists in frustration. You wish you could see his face and how angry he is right now.

 “Is Mando upset he got his armor dirty? Hm?” you coo mockingly.

“Enough,” he says sternly, his fists balled tightly at his sides. You should stop. Putting him in a bad mood won’t get either of you anywhere, but stars, is it fun.

“Blast, you know what would make this better?” you wait for his response, but he remains silent, steadily walking ahead of you. “If your kid were here to see how you look right--” but before you can finish your next taunt, Mando stops dead in his tracks swiftly drawing his vibro dagger from his utility belt. Reversing his grip, he grabs your shoulder and presses you up against the nearest tree; his dagger just inches from your throat.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” he asks, his tone bitter. His forearm pressed firmly against your sternum and his other arm held on tightly to his vibro dagger. You’re trying your best not to seem absolutely fucking terrified. Your hat has practically been pushed off of your head, the only thing holding it up being the resisting pressure of the tree against your back. You swallow hard, your gaze switching between the dagger and his helmet. Maybe if you don’t say anything at all he won’t be as mad. Silence is better. Karabast, you shouldn’t have said anything. He must have a sore spot with this kid.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he tests, breaking the tense silence. You can’t see his face, but there’s no guessing that he’s staring into your soul right now. You can feel his eyes burning into you and it makes you shift uncomfortably under his hold.

“N-no,” you finally admit. “No. I’m--” you sigh “--I’m sorry.”

And with that he releases you, sheathing his blade back into his utility belt. He turns away from you and continues on his path as if he didn’t just hold a knife to your throat just moments ago. You’ve learned your lesson: do not joke about Mando’s kid ever again. Never, ever again. He just might kill you over it. You decide to focus instead on the path ahead, never daring to avert your gaze from the sprawling roots at your feet. Yes, this was better. You don’t have to deal with the disappointment that is yourself. You’d think that someone like him could handle that kind of taunting; it was childish and incendiary. He’s above that kind of behavior and you were just attempting to be annoying. You didn’t think your words would’ve actually snuck its way under that beskar. He’s experienced worse people, has probably heard worse things than what you said. So why did he get so frustrated so fast? That kid must mean more to him than you initially thought. You stop when you see him raise his fist in your peripheral, signalling you to halt. You look up at him and can see his helmet raise up towards the sky to assess the rocky cliff that you’ve both come up upon.

“The compound is just up there,” he says. “We could probably drop down on them from above if we get up on one of these trees.” As soon as he says that the gears in your head start turning. Assessing your options, you remember you brought your ascension gun with you. Reaching for the holster around your thigh, you unclasp it and draw out your gun.

“I could get us both up there with my jet pack--” he pauses once he hears you fire your ascension gun, aiming it at the thickest branch of the tree to your right, it wraps around it and grapples the bark. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Meet ya there, Shiny,” you say as you ascend the tree with a mechanical whirr. You make it to the branch and detach your gun, tucking it back in your holster. When you have a steady footing, you look down at Mando who is shaking his head with his hands on his hips. He presses a button on his gauntlet, igniting his jet pack, and flies up to the branch. He lands in front of you with ease and shakes his head.

“What? You were taking too long,” you say. “Now, what’s the plan?” Mando sighs and turns towards the end of the branch, he crouches so he can keep his footing and peeks out past the foliage to get a look at the compound on the cliff. He waves at you to join him and you crouch down to climb up towards him. Once you’re by his side, he peels back some of the foliage so you can get a better look at the top of the cliff. There are about three freighters and two gunships that are landed there. There was only one you recognized. The YV-865. You used to pilot those all the time when you worked for Wraak. That ship had to be Brehan’s. Mando lifts his finger and points to a moss-covered cavern that had four armed Weequays guarding it.

“Brehan’s in there,” Mando says. “We have to quietly take out those Weequays before we can get in. No blasters. If one goes off, it’ll echo throughout that cave and Brehan will know something’s wrong.” You nod your head and grin. It’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to use your shockwhips.

“Sounds easy enough. I’ll take the ones on the right,” you tell him before you leap to the nearest branch. You stay low once you land, and utilize that same technique as you leap from branch to branch. Eventually, you make it to a vantage point above the two Weequay’s you targeted. You look over and see that Mando made it to a branch about 15 feet away, parallel to you. He makes a gesture to the side of his helmet, indicating to his communicator. You press a button on your wrist, turning your com link on, and look at him expectantly.

“We’ll drop down on my signal, okay?” you hear him say through the com. You nod your head and do as he says. You watch him and wait for his signal. You adjust one of your gloves, but accidentally press a button on your com link, unknowingly turning it off. You move your gloved hand to one of your whips and take a peek at the guards below you who remain at their positions unalarmed. The second your eyes move back up to look across at Mando, he drops down between the two Weequays he’s targeting.

“Shit,” you say, grabbing one of your shockwhips and dropping down about 30 seconds after Mando does. You can hear Mando grunting as he lands blows on the guards. You bend your knees as you land and kick one of the blasters out of the nearest Weequay’s hands. It lands about 4 feet away from you both. You look back up and the other armed guard glances at it before aiming his blaster at you. Anticipating this, you flick your whip and it wraps around his wrist; his blaster drops as his whole body tenses and yellow volts of electricity crawl around his body. He then tumbles onto the ground unconscious. You look back at the blaster that you kicked out of the other Weequay’s hands and you see him bending down to grab it. You swing your whip at his throat and yank hard. His hands fly to his windpipe trying to relieve the offending pressure as he coughs and gasps, you shock him and he tenses before crumbling to the ground with a groan. You look over at Mando who is still fighting off the two guards. One, situated behind him, has his forearm around Mando’s throat, the other was landing blows to his stomach just underneath the beskar chestplate. You swing your weapon, aiming for the Weequay behind shiny. But your hand slips and your weapon wraps around Mando’s arm instead. You instinctively yank before you had the chance to process where your whip even landed and he falls to the ground. The guards now alarmed by your presence, both reach for their respective blasters. Mando is up on his feet now and aims his gauntlet at one of the guards engaging his whipcord. But you’re doing the same, attempting to incapacitate the guard before they can obtain their blasters. You both aim for the same Weequay and your weapons both reach their target; his whipcord wrapped around the guard’s torso and arms, and your shockwhip around his ankle. By the time you both realize you’ve incapacitated the same Weequay, it’s already too late. The other one has already aimed his blaster and fired. Mando’s pauldron sparked as the bolt met the beskar with a clink. You reel your whip back and it meets the guard’s chest, the shock knocking him out. The dull echo of the blaster shot rings through the cavern and you both look at each other. You’re fucked.

“Get to the ship, I’ll hold them off,” you tell Mando. His chest heaves as the helmet nods and he presses a button on his gauntlet, activating the jet pack, and zips off towards the sky. I can do this, I can do this. I’ll just talk a lot to try and buy Shiny some more time, you attempt to assure yourself. Securing your whips back in your utility belt, you draw your blaster and aim it at the cavern in anticipation. On the bright side, they’re going to come out and see one bounty hunter and four incapacitated Weequays, so they’re going to be under the impression you did this all yourself. Hopefully they’ll feel intimidated without the foreboding presence of a Mandalorian by your side. You begin to hear commotion from inside the cavern; feet shuffling, a cacophony of voices. Soon you see a few humans, more Weequays, some rodians, and none other than Brehan himself emerge from the cavern. All of the men around him were heavily armed, but Brehan appeared to be unarmed. He looked relatively the same since you last saw him, a grey goatee against his olive skin and slicked back grey hair. The only difference was that he looked slightly heavier, he must’ve been focusing less on keeping in shape for Wraak and more on enjoying the amenities life has to offer. His eyes squint and focus on you, they widen once he finally recognized you. A laugh erupts from his wide grin and his hands fly to his slightly protruding belly, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more defined. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, his hands shifting to his hips. “I was wondering who was ballsy enough to interrupt my game of sabbac. It sure has been a while, hasn’t it? You still in the guild?”

“You tell me,” you say as you pull the bounty puck from your pocket and flick it on with your thumb. Brehan’s face fell once he recognized what you were holding.

“Now, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m retired. I stopped working for Wraak long ago. Surely we can work something out, hm?” he pleads, subtly. You grin, Mando’s plan just might work.

“Give me the clearances to Wraak’s base and I’ll consider letting you live,” you offer, tucking the puck back into your belt.

“That is just something that I’m not able to do, little lady,” Brehan replied. “Perhaps you would like some spice? Or credits?”

You’re quiet. You simply just want to draw this out as long as possible so Mando has enough time to get back to the ship. So you decide to wait until Brehan continues the negotiations.

“C’mon now, we don’t want this to get ugly. There’s one of you and fifteen of us.”

“I like those odds,” you boasted. Your blaster was still aimed towards the cavern, with no indication that it was going to drop anytime soon. You were at a standoff. They all had their blasters fixed at you, and vice versa. You were waiting for them to make the next move, and they were waiting for you to pull the trigger. Dank farrik, Shiny, if you don’t get here… . Your eyes switch back over to Brehan, and the second they do, he moves; breaking into a sprint towards his ship, you aim your blaster at the nearest guard and fire. A rodian grunts as he hits the ground and you make a break for it to find some cover as blaster fire rains down on you. You duck behind some of the crates and peek out over the top of it. You aim for one of the humans and fire at his chest. He cries as he hits the ground. You scan the area for Brehan, and you see the ramp to his ship descend as he begins to approach it. 

“Karabast!” you curse. You aim your blaster in his direction and fire four times, but miss all of your shots. There’s too much blaster fire hitting your direction to get better aim. You lose hope. He’s gonna escape and it’s gonna be your fault. You didn’t hear Mando’s signal, you didn’t drop down in time, you aimed for the wrong Weequay. It’s your fault. It’s all your fault if this mission fails. You won’t get Mando’s son back. You won’t get to avenge her death. You’re going to lose it all. The sound of a mechanic hum from above pulls you from your pity party, and you sigh in relief at the sight of the biggest hunk of junk in the galaxy. Mando made it here with the Razor Crest. He fires, and the bolts from the Crest meet Brehan’s ship, incinerating it on the spot. The blast knocks Brehan back along with some of the guards. Smiling at the intense blaze that's replaced Brehan's ship, you seize the opportunity of this distraction and begin picking off the guards one by one. On your feet now, you make your way around the crates you’ve been crouching behind and aim for the guards. You fire a barrage of shots as you walk sideways towards the end of the shipyard Mando has landed the Razor Crest at. They're still hardly noticed you started firing at them again through all the commotion. The ramp to the Crest descends and Mando wastes no time stepping out and coming to your aid. 

“Took you long enough,” you goad as you dodge blaster fire.

“Really? You’re complaining?” he fumes, blaster bolts clinking as they bounce off his armor and he grunts slightly with each impact.

Before you know it, you both took down all the guards and all that’s left is Brehan who is scrambling to his feet and searching for the nearest escape. The two of you make haste in his direction. By the time you both get to him, he managed to steal a vibro dagger from one of the bodies on the ground and he’s aiming it at the two of you.

“Drop your weapon. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Mando’s modulated voice commands. But Brehan doesn’t crack, his blade remains in his grip. “Drop it.”

This time Brehan listens, the blade hits the soil with a soft thud. As Mando reaches with his free hand to his belt for his binders, Brehan reels back his fist and it collides with the underside of your jaw. You moan in pain as you stumble backwards cradling your face. The pain crawled to your teeth, leaving your mouth tender and sore. Mando knees him in the gut and Brehan doubles over in pain, coughing and groaning. Shiny grabs the sides of Brehan’s head with his gloved hands and headbutts him with the crown of his beskar helmet. You hear a crack and you're sure his nose was broken from the impact; a steady flow of crimson blood begins to flow out of Brehan’s nostrils. Mando restrains him with the binders and leads him harshly to the Razor Crest by the collar. You follow them, still cradling your jaw. Mando throws Brehan into the hull of the Crest and he lands on the floor, a bloody mess.

“Please, don’t kill me. I’ll-I’ll give you whatever you want,” Brehan grovels through bloodstained teeth pitifully from the floor.

You kneel to Brehans level, attempting to appear sympathetic, “Your security clearances are all we want. If you give us that, we’ll let you go.”

Mando’s head swivels in your direction and he says your name, “We didn’t agree to that.” His voice was hushed through the modulator.

You raise your hand, indicating he should be quiet.

“Sound good?” you ask Brehan, extending your hand so you could help him up. His cuffed hands extend up to yours and you take it, your thighs tensing as you lift his weight off of the ground. 

“Give the clearances to Mando then he’ll uncuff you,” you explain to Brehan, to which he nods simply in response. You can tell Shiny has no clue what you’re doing, and he must think you’re an idiot. But you’ve been around Brehan’s kind, you have to let him think he has the upper hand. The cuffs chime as Mando frees Brehan’s wrists from the metal binders. Massaging his wrists, Brehan gives you and the Mandalorian one last incredulous look before beginning his path towards the ramp of the ship. His feet almost meet the ground outside the ship when suddenly your shockwhip wraps around his ankle and you yank him back inside the hull harshly. His chin hits the ground and he’s dragged back inside on his stomach. Once he’s at your feet, you yank him up to your level by his collar and shove him into the carbonite chamber; the back of his skull meets the inside of the chamber with a clunk. Before Brehan can process exactly what’s happening, you smack the controls and an icy steam blankets him. All that’s left of Brehan is a pained expression seemingly etched into stone.

Mando’s helmet is fixed on you; your chest is heaving and your jaw hurts and you’re too pumped with adrenaline to check for any other injuries right now. You almost cost Mando this mission, you can’t even bother to look at him right now. You just want to sleep and forget the events of today. But once you turn away from the carbonite chamber, all you’re met with is Mando’s figure who’s blocking your point of escape.

“You didn’t go on my signal," he snaps, his gruff voice sounding disgruntled. "We could’ve had them completely by surprise if you just dropped down at the same time I did.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask accusatorially. “Do you think I was trying to fuck up the mission?”

“I didn’t say that--” Mando defends, his gloved hands raising in a defensive position, but you continue with your argument as if he didn’t just respond to your rhetoric question.

“I did what I could considering the circumstances. We still got the security clearances from Brehan, so I didn’t fail you,” you assure, more-so for yourself than for Mando. You were resourceful back there. And the mission was still successful, despite your fuckup. It could’ve gone so much worse, but you pulled through. And so did Mando, I guess. You both don’t work together very well, but hopefully by the time you get to Wraak’s base on Sriluur, you and Mando will finally tolerate each other enough to work together. The ramp to the Crest closes and you settle down on one of the crates in the hull and begin checking yourself for injuries.

“How’s your jaw?” Mando inquires.

“Shut up,” you snap, not even bothering to look up at Shiny as you address a few scrapes and bruises that cover your body. Dank farrik, this is going to be one long ride.

[meteorwrites]

Out the Garden Gate

This is an old piece I wrote in college, but it deserves some love, so I thought I’d post it! Almira was my first tabletop RPG character, and she is still very near and dear to my heart. Her spunk and mischievousness never ceases to bring me joy. The piece is set around 1861 in Boston. 

On the day that the gate was left open, I had been given a brand-new dress. This particular dress was blue, with tiny white flowers patterned across its surface, and lace sewn in frills along its sleeves. It had been a gift from my Uncle Gilroy, who had decided to make the journey north from Philadelphia to visit us. 

I absolutely hated it, of course. It was far too tight around my middle, and the lace itched and scratched against my skin whenever I moved. 

If I had been at my family’s vacation home, I would have been able to sneak off and shed my burden behind some tree, free to dash about the forest and explore anything and everything that caught my eye. Unfortunately, I was at my family’s home in Boston, nowhere near the forest, so the garden out behind the house would have to suffice. And, since it was one of the few places I was actually allowed to be, I wouldn’t have to worry about my parents observing me as closely as they usually did. 

In the middle of the city, it is impossible to have a garden of any magnitude. But my mother had managed to create a small sanctuary of green among the smoke and stone. A few bushes, some grass, a single small tree, and a selection of flowers hardly offered the same opportunities for exploration as the forests, but I enjoyed being there nonetheless. I would sit against the wall that surrounded the property and listen to the commotion and bustle of the city beyond, peering out past the rusted gate in the wall to a world I could never truly touch. The daughter of a wealthy businessman was hardly expected to dash about the city like some street urchin, after all, even if the daughter in question happened to be seven years old at the time and bored to tears. 

But today was different, because as I wandered into the garden, I realized that the rusted gate was hanging open. I couldn’t believe it at first- every day of my life that gate had been locked tight, unmoving beneath my small, persistent hands…and yet, there it was. 

I stepped forward, peering around the gate into the street beyond. It was quiet, for midweek- the few people I saw seemed very intent on their business, and none of them seemed particularly interested in either me or the gate. The police were doing their usual rounds up and down the linear streets, glancing from side to side at the old mansions towering over them. The sounds their footsteps made against the cobbled stone sounded strangely loud to me, almost as though the garden wall itself had been swept away and the city laid out before me. More than likely it was my own excitement that was responsible for this, but to my seven-year old mind, it was almost as though the city was calling to me. Why else would everything seem so much more vibrant, more intense, as though the city wanted me to come and explore it?

I briefly wondered why the gate was open, but that thought was quickly overridden by a complete and utter delight at the opportunity presented to me. I felt my cheeks begin to flush as my mouth split into a grin. This was going to be fun. 

Without any hesitation, for the first time, I stepped out alone beyond the wall, and there was no one to stop me. Breathing in the dank city air and relishing the taste of smog against my mouth, I looked around, chose a direction, and began to run. 

The dress pulled at my legs and scratched at my arms; the lace itched more and more the further I went. I looked down at it in disgust, then glanced around for a place to be rid of it, somewhere my parents could never find it. I ducked down a side-street, and tried to struggle out of the dress, thinking I could just chuck it in some bin somewhere and be done with it, but the lacing along the back proved to be too difficult to reach and too tight for me to wrestle out of it by myself. Well, this was inconvenient. 

With a disgruntled huff, I began running again, barely noticing the stares of the passerby as my house disappeared from view. But I wasn’t worried about getting lost. Those who tend to wander can usually find their way home again- I always had. The streets began to wind the further away I got from Back Bay, and the air grew darker and thicker with every step. As I moved closer to the heart of the city, I could hear the bustle of the packed streets beginning to grow louder and more distinct. But, I couldn’t go exploring quite yet. There was still the matter of the dress to attend to. 

As I rounded another bend, I ran directly into someone else moving in the opposite direction. We both crashed to the ground, and I heard an oof! as the wind was knocked out of the other person. After coming to my senses, I looked up to see who I had run into. I saw a boy, about my age, dressed in the scuffed clothing of the working class. He rubbed his shaggy black hair furiously as he scrambled to his feet.

“Hey! Whatdya-” As his eyes met mine a look of utter astonishment crossed his face, and he cut himself off mid-sentence. We stared at each other for a few moments, unmoving, each taking the other in. There was dirt covering him from head to toe, smudged along the bridge of his nose and along his neck, and his clothes were loose and disheveled. I thought it looked like he’d been having a lot of fun somewhere. 

I managed to struggle to my feet in spite of my many layers. A golden opportunity had presented itself to me, and I wasn’t about to let it pass. “Help me,” I said, fingers scrabbling against the back of my dress. The lace was beginning to scratch again.

“…What?” The boy continued to stare. It crossed my mind that he might not be very smart. 

“Help me get this off!” I repeated impatiently, tugging at the laces. Something in my tone or my eyes must have gotten through to him at this point, because he shook himself out of his stupor and moved forward to help me. After much struggling, the dress finally slid to the ground, and I stepped out of the mound of fabric in nothing but my underclothes. Ah, sweet relief! 

“Thank you,” I said, grinning. The boy looked between me and the dress, and back again. I paused for a moment, waiting for him to reply. The boy’s lips stammered for a few seconds before he managed to get a sound out. I wondered why he seemed so flustered. It wasn’t as though I was naked. I was never quite that unrestrained, although I never lost my distaste of dresses. 

“You don’t want it?” he finally blurted out. 

I looked down at the dress I had abandoned. It was lying in a puddle, quickly soaking up the muck and dirt surrounding it. The white flowers stained brown as the taint spread. I curled my lip a little. 

“It itches,” I said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Even if it was beautiful and expensive, I couldn’t understand why anyone would prize something so uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” he said, then went silent again. Well, this was certainly a talkative one.  

“What’s your name?” I asked. 

He jumped a little at my sudden questioning. “B…Billy,” he said. 

“Hi, Billy. I’m Almira.” I held out my hand to shake, as I had seen my father do so many times before, giving him a winning smile. The boy only stared at me. After a few moments I let my hand drop, face falling a little. 

In retrospect, the boy’s awkwardness may have been due to the fact that a strange girl had, quite literally, just unclothed in front of him. But, to my seven-year-old self, there was nothing particularly strange about walking around in my bloomers. After all, I’d done it plenty of times before in the forest. I was completely comfortable. The boy, most definitely, was not.  

“Are you always so quiet?” I asked. 

The boy’s stammering was interrupted by a loud shriek from behind him. Both of us swiveled to see a woman sprinting down the alleyway toward us, broomstick in fist. Even at this distance I could see a vein bulging on her forehead. 

“Thief!” she screeched. The boy’s face paled. We exchanged a glance. A kind of unspoken communication passed between us. 

Then both of us were gone, scrambling and slipping down the alley as fast as we possibly could. 

As her bellows faded into the din behind us, I let my legs stretch out to their full stride for the first time in months. Darting through the twisting streets and alleyways of Boston, with the utter confidence of youth, I knew that this, this was where I was meant to be. My feet pounded on the cobblestones in time with the pulsing of my heart, the wind rustled through my strawberry blonde hair and along my undergarments, and it was perfect. 

The boy and I ran for several minutes, until our lungs were sore and our hearts threatened to burst from our ribcages. As we staggered to a halt, I realized that I had led us back into Back Bay. I let out a heaving sigh of frustration. Well, at least my skin wasn’t itching, although I was a little cold- the sea breeze called the goosebumps out from under my skin in shudders. 

I looked over to the boy. He was looking back the way we came; his eyebrows were creased, and he looked like he was thinking hard about something. “Are you all right?” I asked. 

Billy looked up at me, eyes wide. “I don’t think…I know how to get home from here.”

I let out a little sigh. Well, maybe not everyone knew how to find their way home. I shrugged. It was time I started properly exploring, and for that I needed to be closer to the city center, and, since it was on my way… 

“I can take you back,” I said, and started to lead him down the street. “Come on, this way.” 

As we walked, I couldn’t help but allow my eyes to roam across the unfamiliar streets and houses, fixating on one detail for a brief moment before flitting to the next. The glint of rare sunlight on a wrought-iron gate…the swish of a coat as a carriage and driver passed nearby…I drank it all in eagerly. 

Billy spoke up. “Um…if you don’t want the dress…can I have it?”

I looked down at him. Now it was my turn to be astonished. “Why??”

“Sell it,” he mumbled, looking down again. A faint blush crossed his face. 

I took a closer look at his clothes. They were worn, and looked like they had been through several owners before him. I blinked a little. I understood now. 

“You can have it,” I said. The boy looked up, and our eyes met for a moment before he grinned shyly at me. I grinned back. 

The dress was still where I had left it, soaking in a puddle of mud. The angry woman, thankfully, was nowhere in sight. Billy scooped it up, trying not to touch the damp parts as he folded it clumsily into a bundle. 

“Thanks,” he said, clutching the dress tightly to his chest. “Um…what exactly are you doing out here?”

“Exploring,” I said matter-of-factly. Exploring…or trying to, at least. It seemed as though everything was getting in the way. 

“I…I could show you some of the city…if you wanted…” The boy looked down again. “…and I could get you some real clothes, too…”

I let out a laugh, a wide grin spreading across my face. There was absolutely no hesitation in my voice as I said, “That would be wonderful.”

[matriiiarch]

OUR LIFELESS BODIES, ROTTING TOGETHER… for all eternity. That’s how it was supposed to be, how they always imagined they would go; together. But reality was a cruel mistress, crueler than either of them could have predicted and not in the way they had hoped. Death was always viewed as a timeless endeavor full of wonderment and excitement, but without him by her side, death was nothing more than an illusion into madness. Without him… she was nothing; a living body, breathing, aware, but seemingly lifeless. It was a strange thing, being greeted with grief only to be abandoned by the anticipating comforts it once provided. Where was that impending chill? The goosebumps along her arm that used to make the small hairs at the back of her neck stand at attention? The bats in the pit of her stomach no longer flapped their wings and the moon outside seemed to dim when the winds howl ceased to play its haunting melodies. This was meant to be a time of celebration – as was any funeral – full of adoration and exquisite triumph for the recently deceased and yet, Morticia simply couldn’t bring herself to partake in the festivities. Not when it was her husband’s demise which brought about the joyous occasion. The eulogy itself sought fit to remind her of when they had first met; the way his eyes locked with hers causing her heart to flutter rapidly like a wild animal in a cage. He would take it upon himself to gaze at her longingly in that old similar fashion at every funeral there after – save for this one. Never before had she experienced an emptiness quite like this, where even the stench of decay wasn’t enough to fill her spirit with such wonderment and woe in a way that she was so used to. When the place was empty, Morticia found herself standing in front of his tomb, a bouquet of thorns in hand – the very last set of roses she had allowed herself to decapitate – and merely stared at the name chiseled upon its stone. Her face was a blank slate, eyes seemingly without capability to blink. No emotion present. No solidarity. ❝ We said forever. ❞ —— Even in death. Her words broke the mold of silence that festered within the dying breeze surrounding the family graveyard. Not even the sounds of wolves could be heard nor the occasional cawing of crows that so often lingered within the presence of the damned. It was as if, the world they had once known had died along with him.  ❝ Who could have known we’d be so wrong? ❞ A single tear falls from the corner of her eye and she can’t remember the last time such a strange emotion had made its presence so inherently known. Kneeling upon the earth, she places the bouquet upon the recently applied pile of soil. A kiss to her fingertips eventually settling over the name ‘Gomez Addams’ before her head is bowed and she remains there for what perceives to be several hours. She can feel several drops of rain beginning to fall yet she remains still in position beneath the veil of her cloak. How he always adored the sensation of rain on his skin when wandering about the graves late at night, contemplating death itself only now to be found within its grasp. He strived for death. Longed for it, even. Like a honeymoon they had planned for all of their lives only to be brought forth with such grave disappointment. Even now she sits in waiting for her own opportunity, unable to provide such solace for herself. The Addams curse prevailed her from taking her own life or allowing anyone else within their family to take it for her and for the first time, she’s finally able to see it for what it truly was: a curse. To live without him… only that was her torture. Grief was never in their code or mindset until now. The children too were destitute in their emotions, though Wednesday still upheld her usual demeanor of a stoic gaze and her chin held high. Neither of them shed a tear, but there was a sorrow behind their eyes that Morticia alone could identify. Most importantly though, they were concerned for their mother who continuously sat perched in her chair, unable to eat, unable to sleep, her attention focused on the spider web knitted in hand. She insisted that she was fine, feigning a slight smirk whenever it deemed necessary to do so. Of course Wednesday saw through her fabrications, placing a hand upon her mother’s shoulder and often leaving her a tray of food that would be left untouched. Eye of Newt, one of Gomez’s favorites, would cause her nose to scrunch with detest as if it had been a bowl of porridge and even something as simple as entrails would sit there and rot until the fumes took over the entire household. Not such an unpleasant smell but it was never like Morticia Addams to let putrid food go to waste. After several weeks, her body was becoming malnourished, her bones weakening and eventually she was forced to remain bedridden with the shades consistently shut tight, leaving her surrounded by the darkness and dank. One night, she awoke with a start to an eerie sort of humming sound. Her eyes turning towards the bedroom door only to see a dim light shining through its cracks and she stares at it perplexed for a moment, uncertain of what it could be. A heavy fog seeps through the bottom of the door and with it came the light as it entered the room causing her fingertips to grip tightly to the bed sheets. But it isn’t fear that overcomes her then. No, it was a sudden realization and an overwhelming sense of company that seemed all too familiar. Could it be? Her thoughts were running wild and for a moment she’s certain that she’s dreaming. As the light approaches closer to the bed, Morticia rises just slightly into a seated position beneath the thick comforter that consumes her and she’s staring as if a single blink might make it disappear entirely. ❝ Gomez… my darling, is that you? ❞ Her voice is hoarse from the lack of words and only comes through in a whisper. She watches as the tinge of light forms itself into a ball, like a floating orb accompanied by a mist of smoke and it’s then that she can almost smell the scent of his cigars which always lingered on his lips. It nears closer, blinking sporadically and it takes her some time to realize that it was attempting to communicate with her. Cara mia…. It had said at last and for the first time since his passing, she can feel the bats fluttering in her stomach as if brought back to life by the very presence of this strange light. ❝ Querido. ❞ A single hand rises with palm facing upwards, the orb floating to almost rest upon it and she can feel the threatening chill to which it provided as it slowly rolled along the length of her extended arm. Involuntarily do the tears begin to form at the corner of her eyes and she smiles genuinely before the orb makes its way along the curve of her neck and eventually settling against her face. The gentle touch of what felt like a cold hand caressing along her cheek seemingly wipes away at her falling tears and in that very moment it was as if Gomez had been there by her side, showering her with affection in the way he always used to. She was found dead the following morning. With arms crossed over her chest and a smirk across her lips. Never before had her pallor looked lovelier than it did on that day and both Wednesday and Pugsley knew that their parents were finally reunited in the way they had always dreamed to be. Forever together. 

[toeuropeandback]

Vienna: a walk in the park

On the night we arrived, we went to Prater amusement park, which is the most famous amusement park in Vienna. We also had dinner there at one of the restaurants located on site, where we tried some authentic food of the region. There was lots of different rides, including multiple roller coasters, ghost trains and carousels. It is also very popular for the Giant Ferris Wheel. One of the rides that stood out to me that I went on was an indoor rollercoaster, which is also in the dark. It was full of lasers and lights, which made this ride really exciting. There was also a small mirror maze which you had to go through in order to go on the ride.

The first place we went on the second day was the Schönbrunn Palace, which was the main summer residence for the Habsburg rulers located in Vienna. There are 1,441 rooms in the palace. You are able to tour the inside of the Schönbrunn Palace, but we did not spend enough time there to do that. The palace also has a park/garden which was opened to the public around 1779, and is 1.2 kilometres in length. We walked along the gardens, but we still didn’t see much of it. There is a lot to see if you want to do majority of it so you need to make sure you wear appropriate footwear. The palace is also on the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites. It was very beautiful and very grand, and the size gave a sense of power that the empire has.

We also saw St. Stephen's Cathedral, which is the mother church and a symbol of Vienna. The Gothic structure commenced building during the 12th century. There are four towers, and it has a total of 13 bells which hang off the structure. The size of the church wasn’t as large as some others we had seen, but it was still quite big and was definitely beautiful and a sight to see. It is also located near the middle of the main shopping street in Vienna, which is how we found it as we were previously at Swarovski, as it is an Austrian brand and also produced there. The store was very large, and had art installations on almost all the levels, along with the normal products.

We continued to walk around the Vienna City Center, which was full of people. We saw the Saint Augustine Church, which is a parish church built in the 14th century. It was also the Habsburg monarchy's court church for almost 300 years. Mass here is supposed to be wonderful, with a full orchestra and chorus every week. After this, we found Kaiserappartements, which are the Imperial apartments, which were the residence for the Habsburgs for over 600 years. Therefore, it was the centre of the Holy Roman Empire. We sat at a Starbucks across the road where we just sat and watched, and admired the view in front of us.

After this, we just walked around Vienna, where we then found ourselves at Volksgarten, which is a public park. In the middle of the park is a Theseustempel, which is an interesting piece of neoclassical architecture. The one in the park is a replica of the Greek temple Theseion. There is also a blossoming rose garden, which provides some great photo opportunities, and also a small fountain too. You could also see other civic buildings in the background. It had a section which had trees planted, which people had dedicated to different people. Some were dedicated for other's birthdays, just as an example. I thought this was a great idea, and a nice way to incorporate individuals in the park. Overall, the park was very relaxing, and it was pleasant to just walk through and sit down to relax our feet.

We then made our way to Maria-Theresien-Platz, which is a large public square. The Museum of Modern Arts is also located here, and there is a large statue in the middle of the square. People were sitting here and having picnics

Everywhere we went, there was some sort of statue or fountain, which was dedicated to someone who had an impact on the city. I also noticed that majority of them featured a horse of some sort. Overall, Vienna was a very peaceful place and it was very relaxing in general. Vienna is very famous for its classic music also, with composers like Mozart and Beethoven, so if you enjoy these, it is definitely the place to go.

Tips:

Everything is pretty much walking distance, so skip the public transport if you can. Walking through the City Centre covers many of the main sights.

Take a good look at the architecture. There are many structures from the Barock and Art Nouveau era which are very beautiful.

Language: Austrian German Guten Tag/Gruss Gott - Good day/Hello Auf Wiedersehen/Tschuss - Goodbye Bitte - Please Danke (schön) - Thank you (very much) Bitte schön - You're welcome Entschuldigung Die Bitte - Excuse me Ja/Nien - Yes/No

[buffster]

Passion (BTVS 2.17)

This is part of my ongoing Buffy Project, where I write notes/meta for every episode in an attempt to better understand the characters and themes of the show. You can find the full list here. Gifs are not mine.

Angelus: Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping. Waiting. And although unwanted, unbidden...it will stir. Open it’s jaws and howl. 

Passion was a joy to watch not simply from an entertainment standpoint but an analytical one as well. The episode spends a lot of time on Angelus and the line between him and Angel begins to blur. Just as Angel did, Angelus watches from the shadows unnoticed by Buffy or her friends. Her lurks at the Bronze just as he did before (did he stalk her constantly and just announce himself at opportune moments?) and is standing not three feet from Buffy sucking a girl dry as she walks past, oblivious. 

Angelus: It speaks to us. Guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?

He lurks in her bedroom and draws a picture of her sleeping to lay on her pillow. It begs the question: had Angel done this would Buffy have found it romantic? It has apparently only just occurred to the gang that Angelus has an all access pass to their homes and school. Cordelia is concerned she invited him into her car. Apparently no one bothers explaining to her this isn’t a thing because she later says she convinced her grandmother to switch cars with her. 

Xander: Yep, you’re doomed to having to give him and his vamp pals a lift whenever they feel like it. And those guys never chip in for gas.

One of my favorite things about Buffy is it’s willingness to make fun of itself. It does so this episode when Jonathan Levinson and an unnamed student walk into the library looking for books.

Xander: Does this look like a Barnes and Noble?

Giles directs them to the books and the entire gang watches in disbelief. They leave and Cordelia asks, not unreasonably, why Angelus doesn’t just slit Buffy’s throat. Giles says that he is just trying to provoke her and that she needs to ignore him. His dedication to procedure will see him punished this episode as he fails to take Angelus’ threat seriously. 

Giles: As the slayer you don’t have the luxury of being a slave to your passions. 

Both Xander and Buffy dumb down Giles’ long-winded explanations, but as pointed out by Xander only he is given the withering looks and snotty attitude. I’ve noticed that, for now at least, Giles seems to like Xander less than the other Scoobies. It’s unclear why that is, but my theory is that he sees him as a liability. Willow offers technical and research support. Buffy is the slayer. Xander gets the doughnuts. 

Willow is Angelus’ next victim. He strings up her fish and leaves them in an envelope. Buffy tells her that when things like this happen she still wants to run to Angel, but he’s gone. Willow tells her that one thing has not changed: she is still all he thinks about. 

Joyce is next. He leaves a picture of her for Buffy and then confronts her outside their house. He tells Joyce that he slept with her daughter. Right afterwards Willow performs the ritual to lock him out of the house.

There were quite a few insights into Joyce this episode. She asks Buffy what’s wrong and says, “I’ve read all the parenting books. You cannot surprise me.” Joyce feels the need to appear to be parenting well, but she clearly struggles to follow any of the advice laid out for her. She has little backbone and also isn’t even sure she wants to know what her daughter gets up to. Joyce also struggles to let Buffy talk and assumes she knows exactly what’s going on at all times. I could sympathize with her in this situation simply because Angelus doesn’t act at all stable when he speaks to Joyce. It would be hard to imagine how you’d fall for this guy’s tricks. She is also upset because she slept with a boy Joyce didn’t even know she was dating, clearly illustrating how out of the loop her mother is. But Joyce doesn’t exactly encourage things to be different.

Joyce: Buffy, you can shut me out of your life--I am pretty much used to that. But don’t ever expect me to stop caring about you because it’s never gonna happen. I love you more than anything in the world.

Giles and Jenny begin to speak again. Giles admits he felt betrayed and Jenny admits she fell in love with him. He wants her to make things right with Buffy but can’t deny he misses her. They plan to get together that evening, but first she wants to nail down the spell used to grant Angel a soul.

Back at the factory Spike is refusing to eat. He hates feeling helpless and childlike, especially with Angelus taunting all that Dru does for him. Drusilla seems thrilled to be fought over until she has a vision about Jenny’s plans. Drusilla is a serious danger and would have thwarted many a Scooby victory had she stuck around.

Just as Jenny figures out the spell translation Angelus appears. He says that he is able to get in because the sign outside reads Enter all ye who seek knowledge. Even watching this over and over again you can’t help but root for Jenny as Angelus chases her. And then you see the big window and think nooooo as he snaps her neck.

I noticed at the beginning of the episode Jenny told her students she wanted a paper and disc copy of their work. It foreshadows her leaving behind a disc copy. I also liked how Jenny had a lasting legacy on the show with this final piece of work.

Giles walks into his apartment to music, roses, and candles. Had Giles paid more attention to Buffy’s worry over Angelus he would have recognized the paper immediately (reading ‘Upstairs’). He finds Jenny’s body where he is expecting to find her ready for a romantic evening. This was an important episode to understand the cruelty of Angelus and how different he is from other vampires. The way he gets off on other people’s pain speaks to a deep sense of rage...but I’ll muse on that later. Giles stands frozen as the police arrive. When they ask him to come with him he says, “Of course. Yes. Procedure...” 

Angelus: Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief.

Angelus watches from the window as Buffy gets the call from Giles. She hands the phone to Willow and drops to the floor. Willow is the one to be comforted by Joyce as she begins sobbing. They go to Giles’ apartment and survey the scene. Angel has sketched Jenny’s face in death. 

Buffy: Giles didn’t set this up. Angel did. This is the wrapping for the gift.

They surmise that Giles intends to kill Angel.

Xander: Well it’s about time somebody did. Well, I’m sorry but I hated Angel long before you guys jumped on the bandwagon. So I think I deserve a little something for not saying I told you so long before now. If Giles wants to go after the fiend that killed his girlfriend...

Buffy: You’re right. There’s only one problem with Giles’ little revenge plan.

Xander: And what’s that?

Buffy: It’s gonna get him killed.

Xander’s being an insensitive ass here, yes. Honestly I think he views caring for a vampire the way we view keeping a wild tiger for a pet. How surprised and sorry do you really want us to be when it turns around and bites you? That’s what tigers do. He never quite understands the grey area of morality. He’d be a terrible fit for Angel the Series, which deals in it a lot more. I don’t think he’s trying to be a jerk. To him stay away from vampires is just what’s right and makes sense.

Back at the factory Spike is angry with Angelus for playing games. Buffy finds them and attacks Angelus before he can kill Giles but lets him get away to save her Watcher. Afterwards, Buffy punches Giles and says he can’t leave her to do this alone. They hug each other and sob.

Angelus: It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we would know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion we’d be truly dead.

The events have moved Giles out of his comfort zone as the cool and removed Watcher. He admits he’s buried many people but Jenny was the first he loved. He now understands what it means to be personally involved. Buffy feels responsible because she wasn’t able to bring herself to kill Angelus when she had the chance. 

Buffy: Angel is gone. Nothing is ever gonna bring him back. 

She’s ready.

Character Notes:

Willow Rosenberg: Willow panics when offered the chance to teach the computer class. She’s excited but full of self-doubt. She spends five hours planning lessons for a few minutes of teaching time. 

Angelus: Giles says that “since Angel lost his soul he’s regained his sense of whimsy”. 

Buffy Summers: Buffy is still unhappy with Jenny but tells her to talk to Giles because she doesn’t want anybody to be lonely. One of the things that makes Buffy a hero is her ability to turn her inner pain into compassion.

[kynaswhereabouts]

Legazpi Tour with Germans: A Tour Coordinator’s Story

I've been hired by a local travel agency to be tour coordinator for the day and I am glad that to have such opportunity to go out and meet new people along the way. I tour coordinated a group of Senior High School students from Germany last January 6,2017 at Legazpi.

At first I was really nervous because aside from it being my first time to be a tour coordinator, I was a little bit intimidated upon seeing them. I have the tendency to have panic attacks and stutter when I speak. They are Germans. I have read about them, in fact, I made a research before the tour to make sure that I would make a good impression and establish an effective communication while with them. My goal was to make sure that I make friends and that they enjoy the tour.

When I picked them up in the apartelle where they are staying around 6AM, they are all already to go. I introduced myself and I was astonished to be be greeted with a warm welcome. It made me a little less nervous. After checking attendance and introductions, we drove all the way from Naga to Legazpi. We picked up the tour guide a long the way.

Each destination we visited has different stories and experiences. In fact, I learned a lot from them too. Along the way, I had realizations.

Hoyop-Hoyopan Cave

Hoyop-Hoyopan Cave is our first destination in our itinerary. Located in Cotmon Village, Camalig, Albay. Everyone looked pretty excited and thrilled to go inside the cave. There is an entrance fee of P50.00 per head and parking fee of P25.00. According to the cave tour guide, the cave was able to obtain its name through the Bicol word “Hoyop” which means "blowing of air or wind."

The cave have stalagmites and stalactites forming different figures. There are different chambers, a mini-pond and a dance floor inside the cave which was believed to be where early rituals of paganism once took place. There are jars found inside the cave were dated from 200 B.C. to 900 A.D. The artifacts are now housed at the National Museum in Manila, while some are displayed at nearby Camalig Church. 

The cave has a very interesting history because through the years it served as a place of refuge. It was said that during the Japanese occupation, the cave served as a guerilla and refugee camp. It was also used as a hospital and orphanage. There are also local stories saying that it actually served as safe haven for partygoers in the time of the Martial Law since curfew was imposed.

There is a staircase for easy access to the other level of the cave. Lights bulbs were installed in the cave as well to allow tourists to fully appreciate the rock formations inside the cave.  

Quitinday Hills

We had a little trouble on our way to Quitinday Hills as the van can’t get through the muddy and rocky road. We decided to take a walk to the rest house which was situated at the foot of Quitinday Hills. The walk took us maybe 20 minutes. I was a bit worried because they might complain about the walk. The weather and temperature is quite different here in the Philippines and in Germany but they seems to like it. Along the way, I made friends. I had little chat with Janina and Toni and get to know them better. They are into nature. They love outdoors which is why they availed our tour package. Also, I have learned that before they went to Bicol, they were just from Puerto Princesa, Palawan and saw the Underground River. I was enthralled hearing their stories. I have been there too last 2015. So we shared stories. 

They seemed to have loved the view up at Quitinday Hills and enjoyed the hike. The iconic perfect shaped volcano Mayon is right before our eyes surrounded by the green hills. Quitinday Greenhills is our local Chocolate Hills here in Bicol. I have been here once and I have never thought that I will be back again with these people. Once again it was like being in two places at once. It feels like I am in Bohol and Bicol at the same time.

After the hike, they decide to try the Buko (coconut) juice which was sold near the rest house. For some of them, it was their first time. 

A day full of first times. It was their first time to try the jeep as well. We were on foot, walking again as we were on our way back to where we left the van when a jeepney passed by. We asked the driver if he can give us a short ride and he let us hop in his jeep. The group really enjoye dthe short ride. Most of the boys rode on the top roof of the jeep while the others are inside. Even though I have been riding a jeep all my life since I am a Filipino and it is a means of public transportation, I had a new story to tell and it was such wonderful experience because I was with these kinds of people. It was ride unlike any other. 

Sumlang Lake

Our next destination was Sumlang Lake. There is an entrance fee of P10.00 per head and parking fee of P20.00 . In Sumlang Lake, you can go for a roundtrip bamboo rafting at the lake for P25.00, Kayaking and aqua bike for 30 minutes at P50.00. 

They didn’t avail any activities and decided to sit and enjoy the view instead. Quitinday Hills drained all of our enegry. We took a rest instead and some chitchat. I learned some German words from them as well. I learned how to say thank you. Danke. They asked me some Bicol and Tagalog words as well. They are actually interested as well in learning. One of the best things that happened is that I get to learn from them and they get to learn from me too. We learn from each other.   

ATV Mayon Adventure

After a rest, we were recharged. They are up for some adrenaline rush. We went for an ATV adventure. Here are some of the photos.

Before anything else, there is an orientation and test drive before going for the trail. We picked the San Isidro Trail, the shortest trail for P440.00. 

Legazpi Boulevard

Our last stop was at Legazpi Boulevard. Great way to end the tour. It was a fun filled day full of learning. It was a challenging and wonderful experience. A story worth telling. Manuel, Tizian, David, Jakob, Michael, Nadja, Luisa, Janina, Lena and Toni. Danke. It was a pleasure to have been your tour coordinator. Till we meet again. More hopefully, I’ll get to meet you all again in Germany. 

If interested in availing tour packages, you can visit the website of Grand Expedition Travel Services at: http://www.getstravel.com/

For inquiries, you may contact us through email at: gets_travel@yahoo.com or at gets.grandeexpeditiontravel@gmail.com

You can also message us on our facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/gets.gets.12

[dkehoe]

When I visit the blog Fictionophile I need to make sure I have the time to jump around from page to page. She has numerous topics and reviews ranging from Mysteries to Art. It’s so easy to get caught up in Lynne’s writing! If you haven’t visited her blog, then please click the link below to check it out. But come back! You’ll want to get to know Lynne a bit better by reading her answers to my 10 questions.

Lynne @Fictionophile

Now for her answers!

Blogging is universal and even though we inhabit the same community, we don’t always live in the same country. What country do you live in?

CANADA

What is the view outside your front door? 

My view varies greatly according to the seasons.  I live in a suburban area of Dartmouth, Nova Scotia. When I look out my living room window, I see houses, streets, and off in the near distance, a lake. For seven months of the year, when I am at home, this is my view:

For the other five months of the year, when I am at the cottage, this is my view:

Most blogs have a quirky name and a fun story of origin. Please share the story behind your blogs name?

As I read mainly fiction, I just changed the word ‘Bibliophile’ to ‘Fictionophile’.  Not too exciting or inventive…

Describe where you write your blog.

The photo above shows where my computer is at the cottage.  The photo below is a picture of my desk at home.

Most of us have a stack of books sitting next to our couch or bed waiting to be read. What books are in your stack?

Although I have hundreds of books at home, my ‘stack’ or ‘TBR’ is on my Kindle.  I love that I can take my TBR with me everywhere I go.  As you can see from this photo, I have 634 titles loaded on my Kindle as of today…

A sample from Lynne’s TBR:

Murder on the Marshes by Clare Chase

As the sun rises, a wealthy young woman – Samantha Seabrook – is found drowned in the ornamental fountain of a deserted Cambridge courtyard, the only clue – an antique silver chain wound tightly around her throat.

It’s Tara Thorpe’s job to discover what happened to Miss Seabrook – but the case becomes personal when she learns that Samantha had been receiving death threats… rather like the one that landed on Tara’s doorstep the night the woman died.

Together with Detective Inspector Garstin Blake, Tara tracks the killer to the dank and dangerous fens on the outskirts of the city. But there’s something Tara can’t quite admit to Blake about her past – and it could make all the difference to whether they live… or die.

She Was the Quiet One by Michele Campbell

For Rose Enright, enrolling in a prestigious New England boarding school is the opportunity of a lifetime. But for Rose’s vulnerable twin sister Bel, Odell Academy is a place of temptation and danger. When Bel falls in with a crowd of wild rich kids who pressure her into hazing Rose, the sisters’ relationship is shattered. Rose turns to her dorm mother, Sarah Donovan, for advice. But Bel turns to Sarah’s husband Heath, a charismatic and ambitious teacher. Is Heath trying to help Bel or take advantage of her? In a world of privilege, seduction, and manipulation, only one sister will live to tell the truth.

In a novel full of twists, turns, and dark secrets, Michele Campbell once again proves her skill at crafting intricately spun and completely compelling plots.

If you have had a bad day and want to spend an hour reading a book, what is your go to genre or favorite book that will lift your mood?

Probably literary fiction – though I read a lot of thrillers as well.

When you aren’t blogging, how do you spend your time? Work, Play, School?

I have been retired for over two years now.  Before retirement I was the fiction cataloger for a large public library system.  Now I enjoy reading, walking, crocheting, swimming, and spending time with my family.

What is your favorite blog post you’ve ever written?

Wow, that’s  a hard one…  Maybe: My personal canon.  This post caused me to reflect back on my own personal reading history.  According to WordPress, my most popular post ever was my review for “The Lilac Girls” which got 11,635 views in total.

Have you ever met one of your favorite authors? If so, what did you say to them? Looking back, what do you wish you had said instead?

I have met some terrific authors including Ian Rankin, Kathy Reichs, Giles Blunt, Maureen Jennings, and Peter Robinson.  I can’t really remember what I said to them – other than that I own some of their work and I admire their writing.

If you could sit down with an author for a slice of cake and a question, who is the author, what kind of cake would you serve, and what is the first question you’d ask?

I’d probably serve carrot cake with cream cheese icing.  As to the author, that is another difficult choice as I have so many.  P.D. James and Ruth Rendell (both deceased) and for authors writing now: Fredrik Backman, Sharon Bolton, Catriona McPherson, and Peter May to name just a few.

Lynne, thanks so much for taking the time to answer my 10 questions! I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that if I had that view of the lake I’d have trouble getting through all of those books on my kindle too! It’s truly gorgeous!

When I was checking out Lynne’s blog before putting together my post, I read her post titled Public Libraries today you’ve got to love them! She gives some great tips on some apps that you can download to check out free ebooks, music, movies, magazines and more!  I am familiar with Overdrive but a couple of the other one’s were new to me so check it out, it’s really helpful for those of us on a strict book budget!

See what I mean? I was sucked into that great content!

Do you want your own blog featured? If so, please let me know in the comments. Or would you like to nominate another blogger whom you love? Please do!!

Thanks for reading Blogger to Blogger!

Deborah

Blogger to Blogger Series: An Interview with Lynne @Fictionophile When I visit the blog Fictionophile I need to make sure I have the time to jump around from page to page.

[altezzatravel-blog]

WHEN IS THE BEST TIME TO CLIMB KILIMANJARO?

Best Time to Climb Kilimanjaro

When choosing the most suitable time for climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, you should consider several factors: the temperature, the views, the density of climbers streaming on the trek, difficulty level and safety. The main factor that affects all the rest on the Mount is weather. Mount Kilimanjaro lies in equatorial climatic zone, as opposed to habitual summer, winter, spring and autumn, has wet and dry seasons only. Wet seasons are in April-May and November. Similarly to other tropical countries predicting when the rain starts and stops is nearly impossible. All other months are the “dry season”, when most of the days are sunny, but still it does not mean a 100% guarantee of clear skies.

There are two main climbing seasons: July- August-September and January-February. Many travelers have their summer or Christmas holidays at that time, while the weather conditions for climbing Mount Kilimanjaro are perfect Rain seasons scare off the majority of climbers. In April, May and November the probability of trekking under the drizzle is very high. Rain softens the soil and makes the rocks slippery, turning your climb into a slower and more risky adventure. However, landscape photographers are particularly addictive to the rainy season. More precipitation means more snow on the peak, which makes it possible to shoot the snow-capped summit of Kilimanjaro. Moreover, it is the only time when you can avoid the “rush hours” on the routes, and enjoy some privacy walking virgin-snow-covered treks.

What is the Best Time to Climb Kilimanjaro?

April – May The “big” rainy season starts at the end of March and continues until the middle of May.  April marks the beginning of the coldest time of the year in Tanzania. These months are so dank and drizzle that some operators simply do not offer climbs in April/May at all.

June - July The frequency of rain gradually decreases. The weather on Kilimanjaro is fairly dry and clear but the nights are still bitter cold. June is usually quiet, sunny, and, in our opinion, much underrated in terms of climbing. It is an excellent idea to choose June for your adventure because of great weather and almost climbers-free routes. The number of climbers will be increasing as the year progresses. Starting from July the majority of the routes will be quite busy.

August - October The peak climbing season on Kilimanjaro is on August-September. The weather is particularly good for climbing: the days are clear and somewhat warmer than in June/July. At the same time it may be cloudy in the forest/moorland zone, as well as it may be rainy on the southern routes (Machame and Umbwe). However, once you leave the rain forest behind it will be sunny. October is another unfairly ignored season: nice weather conditions last into mid-October and the number of climbers drops dramatically, giving you a good chance to enjoy Kilimanjaro treks almost alone. At the end of October, the weather becomes more changeable. As long as you are equipped to withstand the occasional shower, this should not present any major challenges.

November November is the “small” rainy season. The rainy weather may last into mid-December. The temperatures have dropped and the moisture mist covers the Mount, making your climb more tricky and risky, yet more challenging and exciting. November might not be the best pick in terms of weather, but gives a great opportunity to enjoy the breathtaking views of misty-covered Mount with its snow-capped peak, and to make some terrific pictures.

December - January Christmas and New Year are the second peak climbing season on Kilimanjaro. The climbers traffic is extremely high, although there is a high chance of raining and thick clouding in the lower altitudes of Kilimanjaro.

January - March Mid-January to mid-March are very popular among climbers. The weather is perfectly balanced: it is neither too cold, nor too wet. The days are generally dry, though occasional rains may happen. The possibility of rain increases in the second half of March because the “big” wet season advances.

Kilimanjaro Temperature

The temperature on the Mount Kilimanjaro correlates with the four distinct climatic zones:

The rainforest zone (800m-3,000m) is warm and humid. Densely covered with green vegetation this zone temperatures average 12-15 C0 (20-25 C0 during daytime) at 2,900 m. This is where you are going to spend the first one or two days of your climb, depending on the route.

The low alpine zone (3,000m-4,200m) is a semi-arid area. The higher you climb – the scarcer the vegetation becomes. Depending on the route, here you will spend one or two days with average temperatures range 5-10 C0 (15-20 during the daytime) at 3,600 m.

The high alpine zone (4,200m-5,000) is desert-like. You will spend your fourth and fifth day on the Mount here, as well as the final arrangements for summiting will be at those altitudes. Here the temperatures average around the freezing point at 5,000m, but during the daytime, when the sun is shining, it is still quite warm and comfortable.

The summit of Mount Kilimanjaro lies in the glacial zone (above 5,000m) and its temperatures average around -6 C0. However, keep in mind that all summiting attempts usually start at midnight in order to reach the Uhuru peak by dawn. You will be trekking at night when the temperature can drop to - 20°C. When the harsh gusts of wind are torturing you, you will be likely to feel as if the temperature is below -40 °C. However, it’s totally worth it, because on the top you will see one of the best pictures you have ever witnessed in the light of the uprising sun

Useful Information

There are a few more things worth mentioning about the weather on Kilimanjaro. You may decide to climb at a less than perfect time, be it because you want to avoid the main rush or because that is the only suitable timing for you holidays. If you do so, consider Northern Circuit Route or the Rongai Route. The northern side of the mountain is much drier than the other Kilimanjaro routes. Moreover, if you want the best weather on Kilimanjaro but hate crowds, the same applies. Choose your route wisely. There is less traffic on Rongai, Lemosho and Northern Travers Route than on the popular and always busy Machame and Marangu routes. We at Altezza  believe that you can enjoy the Mount Kilimanjaro all year round. The difference is that when in September you might need just one set of thermal underwear, Gore-Tex membrane gaiters and boots, two months later in November you should better taking three sets of each to make sure that you can continue your climb comfortably in case you get soaked to the skin. Anyway, whatever route and season you choose, we at Altezza Travel will do our best to make your Kilimanjaro climb the journey of a lifetime!

Source: https://en.altezza.travel/articles/best-time-to-climb-mount-kilimanjaro

[mthrynn]

On Friday, President Trump signed an executive order that bars citizens from seven Muslim-majority nations entry to the United States for at least 90 days, kicking off a swift and strong reaction from the science and technology community. High-profile tech companies, Apple, Google, HPE and others, have issued statements opposing the ban. That same ripple of concern is rushing through the scientific community.

As reported in the Washington Post on Monday, thousands of academics, including 50 Nobel laureates, have joined together to protest the ban. A petition denouncing the action was signed by 14,800 verified US faculty members and more than 18,000 supporters as of Wednesday morning.

The Association for Computing Machinery, the world’s largest scientific and educational computing society, also expressed its concern over President Trump’s order and urged an end to the ban. In a statement issued Monday, the ACM said it “supports the statute of International Council for Science in that the free and responsible practice of science is fundamental to scientific advancement and human and environmental well-being, [and] such practice, in all its aspects, requires freedom of movement, association, expression and communication for scientists. All individuals are entitled to participate in any ACM activity.”

To capture the rising chorus of voices on this issue, we reached out to the HPC leadership community and found a number of people willing to go on record and others who declined, citing wariness about possible reprisals; one person spoke to us on the condition of anonymity. We also collected some of the sentiments from the larger tech community.

Thomas Sterling, Director, Center for Research in Extreme Scale Technologies, Indiana University

“Science discovery, knowledge, and understanding is reserved for no single self-selected elitist group but is a shared fabric of all societies as are their benefits to all of humanity. Only artificial barriers such as political boundaries, restrictive belief systems, and economic obstacles impede the dissemination and free flow of ideas and their creative application to common challenges among all peoples such as health, climate, food production, and lack of want. HPC is a tool, both a product and enabler of the universal culture of science and engineering, and ultimately human knowledge. Where any one body is precluded from the natural exchange of concepts and the advancement of methods such as HPC, all suffer to a degree due to limits on creativity and human productivity.

“The HPC community as it impacts a diversity of fields is an international body exemplified by the dynamics of cooperation through the movement of peoples in all directions whether of senior experts for short forums around the world, students for extended stays at universities across continents for periods of study, or the immigration of trained practitioners residing permanently in new adopted lands. This ebb and flow of human capital enriches all societies and refreshes their capabilities. The last week has seen a disruption of international communities and cooperation including science and engineering.

“In April, I and others from a number of countries were to be invited to participate in an international forum on topics related to computing including HPC in Tehran, Iran. Building bridges with our colleagues there and welcoming them into our world societies without borders is a wonderful opportunity to facilitate the likelihood of world prosperity and is a responsibility of all thought-leaders contributing to advances of our shared civilization. Now this small step is being withdrawn with both the US and Iran blocking travel of each other’s citizens to their respective nations. The acts precipitating these circumstances are neither noble nor of any profit. They satisfy only narrow views of small minds with short horizons, without perspective or vision of a better world nearly in our grasp but possibly lost for a generation as we drift back into our tribal caves, dark and dank without enlightened images of a greater world.”

Unnamed source, a prominent and long-time member of the HPC community with experience in the federal government, in private industry and academia

“It’s a 90-day ban, and there are all kinds of court challenges that have already started. It’s not clear what implementation long-term would even look like. I think people are upset and that’s probably a good thing, that’s what keeps a balance in our political system. But I think it’s not clear, to me at least…it’s a 90-day ban, there’s a lot of things changing right now, we don’t know enough to say anything helpful. So I feel like everybody is sort of, they were waiting for something to be upset about and here we are. So they’re all ready to go. But I’m not sure it’s the right thing.

“I don’t know if it’s an overreaction, it’s an early reaction. It’s too early. We just don’t know enough for people to be this upset in high end computing. Now maybe in other areas, such as civil rights or areas of the business community where travel is a lot more fluid. Maybe they do know enough and have already seen enough where it’s already impacted them. But for us, half of these countries are on the terrorist counties Watch List anyway, or at least some of them. And for government HPC facilities, those people we’re already not permitted to participate. Countries like Iran are already severely restricted in terms of what they can do in the defense and security space, which is where a lot of the supercomputers are.”

“For people who were tired of things being the same, they might get a little relief from that emotion. Things will change, I just think it’s too early to know whether they’ll be on balance good or bad, and I’m willing to wait and see. A lot of people around me aren’t, they are very excited.”

Steve Conway, Research Vice President in IDC’s High Performance Computing group

“I have worked for large technology companies in the U.S., and in order to compete they have to be able to hire the best and the brightest from around the world. If there are any restrictions that aren’t necessary, that really inhibits American companies’ ability to compete globally, and they can fall behind. We have to be able to hire the best and the brightest from anywhere in the word. And of course all employers in all countries have the right to exclude people who have proven that they are not trustworthy, and so forth, and that’s OK. But a ban can be too broad and too unspecific if it really filters out people who can really help the U.S. economy.

“I’ve said this in meetings in Washington, that arguably the single biggest advantage America has in the whole area of business competition is our university system, particularly at the graduate level. There’s nothing in the world that compares with it. And it’s a magnet, it attracts not just people from the U.S. but people from all over the world. That’s an investment by our country, and we ought to be able to hold onto as many of the best people coming out of our educational system as we can. If they want to contribute to our economy, we certainly shouldn’t be turning them away.”

John Gustafson, Visiting Scientist, A*STAR – Agency for Science, Technology and Research, inventor of Gusatfon’s law

“After 18 months in Singapore, I can say with confidence that Singapore is a model for how to handle immigration and travel. Of the 5.5 million people living in Singapore, 2 million are not Singaporeans, the highest non-citizen percentage of any country. The Singapore government is on good terms with the rest of the world, but it is very selective and careful with who is allowed in as a long-term resident, with screening that takes months by the Ministry of Manpower. They have just the right balance between caution and openness. Despite the amount of time they take, they are actually quite efficient and effective, and no one malicious ever seems to make it through that filter. Once you get the corruption out of government, it’s amazing what it is able to accomplish.”

Bob Sorensen, Research Vice President in IDC’s High Performance Computing group

“Throughout its history, US high technology capabilities in the academic, government, and commercial sectors have always benefitted from access to the best and brightest minds in the world. Indeed, the ability to attract highly skilled scientists and engineers from around the world is one of the US’s most important competitive advantages.  Any barriers that impede the free flow of those people, and the intellectual capability they engender, can only diminish the ability of the US to remain at the forefront of global scientific and technological development, which is the long run could have serious implications for both US national security concerns and its global economics competitiveness.”

Shahin Kahn, Founding Partner, OrionX.net & Founder, StartupHPC.com

“I usually take several steps back on these things and try to see them in the larger context while remaining sensitive to immediate issues.

“The supercomputing community has always been a model of how government, academic, and industrial organizations can cooperate to advance humanity, not just in science and technology but also in business and policy. This is especially important if we look at current global challenges in the context of the transition from the Industrial Age to the Information Age. There are left-over problems of Industrial Age: most notably climate change, but also some social and economic constructs; and there are new problems stemming from digitization: automation, globalization, awareness, and digital mistrust. The shear complexity of these old and new grand-challenge problems, and to solve them while avoiding unintended consequences, demands supercomputing and its unique cooperative model.”

The Tech Industry Response

Amazon

“We’re a nation of immigrants whose diverse backgrounds, ideas, and points of view have helped us build and invent as a nation for over 240 years,” wrote Amazon founder and CEO Jeff Bezos in a company wide email. “No nation is better at harnessing the energies and talents of immigrants. It’s a distinctive competitive advantage for our country—one we should not weaken.

“To our employees in the US and around the world who may be directly affected by this order, I want you to know that the full extent of Amazon’s resources are behind you.”

Google

“It’s painful to see the personal cost of this executive order on our colleagues,” said Google CEO Sundar Pichai in a memo to employees. Google reports more than 100 employees are affected by the order, according to Bloomberg.

Microsoft

“As an immigrant and as a CEO, I’ve both experienced and seen the positive impact that immigration has on our company, for the country, and for the world,” wrote Satya Nadella, Microsoft’s chief executive, in a LinkedIn post. “We will continue to advocate on this important topic.”

HPE

Meg Whitman, CEO of Hewlett-Packard Enterprise and chairperson of HP, sent an email to HPE employees on Monday morning (source: Axios):

“HPE will continue to support its diverse and global family of employees through these challenging times. We are in this together. We will also continue to advocate for immigration policies that recognize America’s core principles and the contributions immigrants make to our collective strength and prosperity. Even while securing its borders, America must not turn its back on the ideals that have motivated generations and inspired the world.”

IBM

“IBM has long believed in diversity, inclusion and tolerance. As we shared with IBMers this weekend, we have always sought to enable the balance between the responsible flow of people, ideas, commerce and information with the needs of security, everywhere in the world,” IBM said in a memo (link).

“As IBMers, we have learned, through era after era, that the path forward – for innovation, for prosperity and for civil society – is the path of engagement and openness to the world. Our company will continue to work and advocate for this.”

Intel

The note that Brian Krzanich shared with all its employees was documented by The Oregonian.

Intel Employees,

I wanted to get a note out to you that goes beyond the statement on our Policy blog or my latest tweet, about the recent directives around immigration. First, as the grandson of immigrants and the CEO of a company that was co-founded by an immigrant, we believe that lawful immigration is critical to the future of our company and this nation. One of the founding cultural behaviors at Intel is constructive confrontation where you focus on the issue, and not on the person or organization. The statement we submitted today does just that. It focuses on the issues. We will continue to make our voice heard that we believe immigration is an important part of making Intel and America all that we can be. I have heard from many of you and share your concern over the recent executive order and want you to know it is not a policy we can support.

At Intel we believe that immigration is an important part of our diversity and inclusion efforts. Inclusion is about making everyone feel welcome and a part of our community. There are employees at Intel that are directly affected by this order. The HR and Legal teams are working with them in every way possible and we will continue to support them until their situations are resolved. I know I can count on all of you to role model our culture and support these employees and their families.

I am committing to all of you – as employees of what I believe to be the greatest company on the planet – that we will not back down from these values and commitments. There will always be forces from outside of the company that will try and distract us from our mission. The key to our success will be our unrelenting focus. As our founder Robert Noyce said: “Do not be encumbered by the past, go out and do something wonderful today.” Each of us can go out and do something wonderful to role model our values.

As mentioned in Quartz, some companies and tech leaders were noteworthy for their silence. “Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer, Trump advisors IBM CEO Ginni Rometty and Oracle co-CEO Safra Catz, and Google cofounder Larry Page were notably absent from those speaking out,” said Quartz.

A broad coalition of tech companies has also formed to challenge the new immigration order that restricts immigration from seven Muslim-majority nations. A group of technology firms was expected to meet yesterday (Tuesday) to plan a legal challenge to the travel ban. Github organized the meeting, according to Reuters, and Google, Netflix, Yelp, Salesforce and SpaceX were among the companies invited.

The post Here’s What HPC Leaders Say about Trump Travel Ban appeared first on HPCwire.

via Government – HPCwire

[roseknows20-blog]

Days 5-10 Pelorus River Track, Richmond Range, and so much more!

Day 5 We make our own TA-Captain Creek Hut to Roebuck Hut January 14th, 2017 We set our alarms early so we could get the F away from the murderous sandflies! Actually, we didn't even have breakfast, brush our teeth, complete our morning duties, or change clothes. Gee wilikers. The sandflies are legit little man-eating menaces, and they're impossible to avoid! I swear the repellent doesn't even work!? Dyl and I even started the hike in our pjs. Not the most ideal way to start your day! And as a result of not having breakfast, I was also a bit of a hangry/cranky girly. I can't emphasize enough that your day is so much more pleasant when you can leisurely make the most of your morning. The good news was Middy Hut was only 5kms away, which was where we planned to stop and properly get ready for the day ahead. It wasn't a strenuous walk, but we were both eager, irritable, and wanted to get to the next hut ASAP. It took us about an hour and 15 minutes to get from the first to the second hut, and the trail notes said it would take 2 hours. We usually complete the sections in about two thirds of the time the trail notes/DOC suggest. Anywho, when we finally arrived at Middy Hut (small yet sufficient), we took a load off, had some yummy oatmeal/tea, and set aside time to complete our morning routine. Groups of other hikers came along, some TA, some just day hikers, so we also socialized with them for awhile. Rowan, a 25 year old jolly American from the great white North in Alaska, and who we briefly met at the first hut, decided to walk with us for the day. We were delighted to make a new friend and delve into interesting conversation topics! There's a sweet swing bridge that we crossed right after Middy hut, and then a steep climb until you reach a junction with a DOC sign that directs you to go left for Roebuck Hut, or right for Rocks Hut. The TA trail goes towards Rocks hut, but we decided to forgo the immensely steep ascent to Rocks Hut, and headed towards Roebuck instead. We figured that the trail to Roebuck Hut would be less exhausting, and only required a few more kms then the section to Rocks Hut. Bottom line is, we do what we want. It was pleasant chatting with Rowan, and it made the kms go by fast. He's the kind of person that you instantly trust. However, I was feeling exceedingly lethargic, and wanted to call it quits at the next hut instead of continuing on for the day. I tell ya, those 5 weeks off definitely did a toll on me. It was good to know that Middy hut to Roebuck was only 6.5 kms though. When we made it to Roebuck hut, we were the first ones to arrive, and thought it was best that we stayed there and not go on to the next hut. One reason being that we might not get a bunk spot at Browning Hut. Secondly, we were also knackered from crushing the Queen Charlotte Track in 2.5 days, and thought we deserved to treat ourselves to only a half day of walking! We like to call these days "nearo" days, not a full zero day (days we don't hike), but also not a day where we hike as far as we can. A half hour or so later 2 German girls showed up. They told us there were a lot of people at Browning Hut when they had passed by, which made us feel relieved we chose to stay at Roebuck. We chatted with the girls as we made our new pasta dinner concoction, and thoroughly relaxed. We also got to do river laundry and some mending. Moments later, a guy with silly glasses and a brown dog appeared at the hut. He was a young kiwi tramper named James. James wasn't doing the TA but seemed friendly and his dog Chester was chill too! Dyl had started a fire pretty early though, and turned the hut into a sauna. As a result, the German girls ditched us and decided to sleep outside. The boys and I/Chester the dog then ended up hanging out for the night in the hut. #hutpartayyyy. (11.5 kms) Day 6 Chester is too chill-Roebuck Hut to Starveall Hut January 15th, 2017 After an astounding night sleep, we woke up relatively early and got the ball rolling. I was well rested and feeling energized. Unlike our mood we had the previous day, because of the sh*tty sandflies, we were excited and empowered to see what the day ahead would bring. Rowan started walking before us, as he's new to the TA game and wanted to get a head start. Meanwhile, Dyl, James, Chester, and I headed out from Roebuck together shortly after. Roebuck hut to Browning was 9kms. Firstly, we passed over a dodgey swing bridge, which Chester didn't seem very fond of. He was nervously shaking and hesitant to go across the bridge, what a poor lil doggie! I don't blame him though because those bridges are real sketch. Yet, I was overtly impressed by Chester's ability to keep up with us throughout the trail, and wanted to shout out to one hell of a dog! After the bridge, we began a steep and rigorous ascent up a hill. The forest was dense and lush, offering a wonderful feeling of solidarity. Once at the top of the hill, we then followed a narrow path along the ridge for the rest of the way. FYI, there were numerous opportunities to filter water at the small stream crossings and Pelorus river! The track itself was simple to follow, even though the "sidling" parts are extremely bothersome, and I twisted my ankle a few times. As we tramped along, we chatted with James and became acquainted with our new quirky amigo. After 8 kms, we reached Totara saddle, and then it was all down hill from there to Browning Hut. At Browning, we took a baby break, and mentally prepared for the next few sections to come. Once we set off back on the trail, Browning to Hacket Hut was only 4.7kms. This section of the trail was mostly dry and flat, with signs and trail markers well posted. Hacket Hut officially ended the Pelorus River Track and started the Richmond Alpine section. Also, if needing to resupply, there's a road here that will lead you out of the rural forest to the town of Hope. After almost 13kms, we thought a dank tuna lunch break was in order. So, we took an hour or so to indulge, and continued drying out our wet mildew smelling laundry. I'm dumbfounded as to why we bother trying to wash our clothes when they end up smelling worse after we wash them, as they usually don't have time to dry properly! Certainly, were too much of DBs to actually use a laundry mat. It would just make too much sense. Anywho, twas a glorious, sunny day though, and just the right temperature for tramping. As we chilled at the hut, the only downer was the sandflies, which we can never escape! Hacket to Starveall hut was a long 6km climb up hill. The beginning of this section follows the river, crossing it back and forth numerous times. Dyl, James, Chester and I had toasted sweaty skin, and were smelling real putrid, so we agreed to go for a refreshing plunge in the chilly river. A cold plunge is also always a great way to get the blood flowing! FYI, as you make your way along the river, make sure to follow the orange trail markers- this section can be a bit confusing at times! We happened to take a few not so purposeful detours off the trail. After the river portion, we started our journey up the steep hill, which felt like we were heading upwards for forever. In total it's a 900m elevation gain from Hacket to Starveall Hut. Unfortunately, I was feeling heavy and slow in the scorching mid afternoon sun. The up hills are just not my forte, yet I dragged my sore legs and groggy mind along anyway. Dyl ended up going ahead, and James and I walked together, taking several "tactical" breaks to snack and converse. Around 6pm, we finally arrived at the hut after a reaaalllyy tiring and strenuous day. The Starveall Hut is in a superb location, just above tree line at 1180m. The hut has 6 bunks, a toilet, rain water- everything you need. Additionally, it offers gorgeous views of the surrounding mountains and peaks that we would be "tramping" over the following day. Out of the blue, we heard someone calling "Morepork" from outside the hut. It was Rowan! We were all thrilled he made it to Starveall, and enjoyed watching the array of colors pop into the sky as the sun set over the valley. Dyl also decided to give Rowan the trail name "Wet Back" because of how much he sweats. Lolz. We all ended up cooking dinner, chillin out, and having another hut party, including our new friends, an older German couple, Fred and his wife. Muhaaaa! (19kms) Day 7 Spontaneity isn't so real anymore, but sweet views still are-Starveall Hut to Rintoul Hut January 16th, 2017 Today, we started pretty early to try and get after the toughest part of the Richmond ranges. Rowan generously gave Dyl and I some instant Starbucks coffee sachets, so we were extra buzzing and ready to rock out. After our yummy brekkie and packs ready to roll, Dyl, Rowan, James, Chester, and I ventured off together from the hut around 8am. We ascended from the hut up hill, following the poles with orange markers. The trail was super rudimentary to follow, and above tree line most of the time. There were also plenty of cairns to assist in guiding us as we strolled along. Once you get to the top, we dropped our packs, and we did a 5 minute mini side trip to the summit of Mt Starveall. Dyl and James enjoyed throwing big rocks down the hill and watching them roll down the steep mountain side- anything to keep us entertained as we hike for hours on end. We also got some phenomenal photo opportunities and bellowed in the picturesque landscape. After the summit, we descended from above alpine into the forest, and followed the ridgeline to the next hut. We made things fun by playing camp games along the way and exchanging stories. Starveall Hut to Slaty was only 5.5km. When we got to Slaty hut (1400m), obviously, we had a mini snack break. Food is life. We also wanted to suss out where other trampers were planning on sleeping for the night. Unlike the North Island, the South Island is overly packed with trampers, and unfortunately we have to worry about getting to a hut at a reasonable time in order to get a bed. Especially, because Dyl and I only had one sleeping pad, and James didn't have a tent. Although it's great meeting new people, it also makes life a bit more difficult having so many people on the trail, and you can't hike the TA as spontaneously as we did on the North Island. From Slaty Hut, we followed the poles again, as we made our way up along the ridge. Then, we rode the ridge, hitting some rock scrambling sections, and passing wild mountain goats, trekking all the way up to Old Man peak. FYI, just past the summit, there's a water barrel for agua refills, which wasn't mentioned in the trail notes. The weather started to turn on us and it became exceedingly windy. Although, the sun was still shining bright, and we appreciated being mostly exposed- allowing for spectacular views of the rolling mountains, the "city" of Nelson, and the teal colored Tasman Sea. Dyl and I agreed that we prefer hiking above alpine more so then through the "bush", even if the terrain tends to be a bit more rigorous. There were definitely some sketchy rock scrambling sections throughout this section though. But, we actually get a thrill from sketchy climbing, and find such trails quite exhilarating- feeling as though we completed a jigsaw puzzle from nature. Eventually, we headed down through the forest to the junction for Old Man Hut. The hut was about .5 km off trail, and down a hill, so we decided to not detour and continued on. From Slaty to the junction was approx 10kms, and from the Old Man hut sign junction to Rintoul Hut was approx 5kms. After the junction, you climb through the native bush until the saddle right before the big kahunas. Then, we mentally prepared ourselves for the rocky steep climb to Lil Rintoul (1643m). It wasn't as horrible as others claimed it to be, but you definitely still have to take care and be cautious about slipping on the scree. Once we conquered Lil Rintoul, we made our way steeply back down the loose scree, and then ascended up again to the notorious Mt Rintoul (1731m). Although definitely a workout, we felt victorious after reaching the top! I found this section to be awesome and one of my favs of the TA so far! I'm gonna throw in the towel if I have to walk another long mundane road section, or hike through cow poop galore ever again. FYI, Mt Rintoul is actually the highest part of the Richmond range that the TA goes through. And as I previously mentioned, this segment of the trail may cause vulnerability to some, as it's mostly loose scree/rocks, your highly exposed above tree line, and the paths are quite narrow- do take care! The trail notes also exclaim that this section is the most strenuous of the whole Richmond Alpine section, I'm assuming mostly because of the elevation gains and drops. We were fortunate with excellent weather though, and breathtaking panoramic views. A few hikers we met before said they had experienced rain and not such perfect weather. So, we decided to chill at the summit of Mt Rintoul for a bit, soaking in the blissful scenery, and being mesmerized by the eclectic natural beauty of the landscape. I also appreciated the strong "gales" flowing through my hair, and rays of good ol vitamin D on my skin. Taking a break gave Rowan time to catch up as well, as he was a bit unsettled about going over the scree by himself, and we wanted to make sure he was feeling comfortable. We all did a wonderful job sticking together, motivating, and looking out for one another. Team work, oh cheyah. Eventually, we carried on, staggering in and out of the poles, down the steep scree, and then through the thick forest to Rintoul Hut. The quaint little hut has only 6 bunks, but provides ample rain water, an outdoor picnic table, and a toilet offering great 5 star views for when nature calls. We were enthralled to get to the hut after such a challenging day! However, unfortunately, the hut was full but one bed open. So, we compromised and James and I shared a bed, "hand and towel", and Rowan/Dylan slept on the floor. Chester got his own doggie hut outside and was just as pooped as we were! We met some more TA walkers, like a fellow American army dude Matt from Oregon, an introverted french couple, and highly intelligent botanists from Canada named Geoff and Lynn. As we watched the sun set and the bubbly white clouds turn to shades of orange and pink, we delightfully scarfed down our fulfilling pasta meal, and hit the hay after feeling a mixture of triumph and over exhaustion. (21kms) Day 8 Storms are a brewin'- Rintoul Hut to Top Wairoa Hut January 17th, 2017 As we had cell phone service at Rintoul Hut, we checked the weather, and realized that there was a severe storm warning throughout the Northern top of the South Island. Rob Waiken, owner of the TA trust, actually announced the storm via the TA Facebook group, telling hikers to stay tight for a few days and to wait out the bad weather. Like the responsible hikers we are (uh kinda), we evaluated and discussed the situation. Luckily, the rain wasn't supposed to start until the afternoon, and we had the opportunity to get an early head start to try and crush as many kms as we could. So, Chester, James, Rowan, Matt, Dyl, and I started our journey south through the Richmond range. We tramped along the ridge, trekking through mud and hopping over obstructing roots, eventually making it through the dense dark forest to Purple Top (1532m). Once we reached the start of the Purple Top section, the trail became quite exposed and rocky. It was also hazy out and the visibility wasn't too great. However, I did acknowledge the sensational shades of the purple ravishing rocks! Hehe. Soon after the summit, we came to a track junction and headed left towards Tarn Hut. We were really cruising, trying to get to our final destination before the bad weather hit. Even though, we weren't exactly certain of our final destination. Eventually, we departed from the rocky terrain and returned to the omnipresent bush, all the way down to Tarn Hut, which was 8kms from Rintoul. It only took us 2 hours to make the journey, although we had left our fellow TA trampers Matt and Rowan behind. Of course, we had a snack break, checked out the hut book, and lounged around for a bit. FYI, there was unfortunately no water at the hut due to lack of rain! The next hut was Mid Wairoa, which was 6.5kms away. So, we set off, and ventured up hill from Tarn Hut to a junction sign, veering left and making several up and down climbs through the forest. The last zig zagging descent down to Mid Wairoa Hut was especially steep! We also passed DOC guys along the way who told us about the sh*t weather, and warned us not to cross the rivers after 11am tomorrow. Gee wilikers, if they had only realized what their words of advice would do to us! When we got to the swing bridge right before the hut, we found Chester anxiously trying to get down from the bridge! James gave him some words of encouragement and a push though, and he jumped from the bridge. What a chill pup! There's also a sign that directs you to Wairoa Road, which we deliberated heading towards and out of the Richmond ranges because of the poop weather. Instead, we decided to keep on carrying on and risked having to wait out the weather in a hut. We also contemplated staying at Mid Wairoa Hut, but were determined to get as far through the ranges as possible. So, we kept on keeping on for the additional 7 kms to Top Wairoa. The track was fairly simple though, and followed the pristine raging river all the way up the valley. We also crossed the river multiple times, passing by many spectacular water falls and hidden swimming holes along the way. James and Chester went ahead and arrived to the hut first, while Dyl and I discussed our next moves and itinerary for the sections to come. The final ascent to the hut is steep, and was made up of wet slippery clay. Top Wairoa Hut is at the 1900km mark and 830m high- oh yeah, almost 2/3 of the way through the trail! As we scurried up the last 100m or so to the hut, we met kind kiwi Adam and giggly genuine German Luzie, who were also TA SOBO trampers! We all hung out at the hut, and were grateful to have shelter from the storm brewing in the ominous sky above. Although the river was freezing, we decided to wash the sticky sweat off our skin, taking a traditional river "shower", and soothing our aching muscles. Fire tamer Dylan started a toasty fire, and we all sat tight in the warmth of the cozy hut. After an hour or so, Omurican Matt arrived! Then, Rowan showed up too- wahoo! We were surprised yet content that they made it safe and sound! Geoff and Lynn ended up strolling in as well, and we had 9 people sleeping in a hut that accommodates 6. I felt bad that some of us had to sleep on the ground, but as the DOC states, "first come, first serve." That being said, we all crashed relatively early after our tasty meals, and slept comfortably with a dry roof over our heads. (21.5km) Day 9 Top Wairoa Hut Shenanigans January 18th, 2017 After hearing the pounding of continuous rain on the hut roof, and cracks of thunder throughout the night, everyone in the hut decided to take a zero day and enjoy sleeping in. The poor weather continued throughout the day, so we made the most of it by socializing and taking it easy in the hut. In the afternoon, the french couple and Katrin, a solo TA woman from Ireland, arrived at the hut, and it ended up being 12 of us staying there for the night. I don't think the new comers appreciated us taking a zero day. But, we were surprised people actually hiked in the heavy rain, and/or risked crossing rivers after 11am. How ludicrous of them! I think we all needed a day of rest though, especially after throwing peaks in the bag for several days in a row. We did leave the hut briefly to go for a swim in the river, and stumbled upon some chill swimming holes and majestic waterfalls! Aside from that, we spent most of the day being lazy bums and playing "thinking" games (instead of "drinking" games because we unfortunately didn't have any alcohol). As for the rest of the story, I'm gonna keep it PG and keep it at that, but Dyl and I were grateful for new friends to be silly with ;). It was truly pleasant getting to know our amigos nuevos, and even decided on a few more trail names, such as Destiny for Matt, and Camelsaw for Luzie. All in all, it was a pleasant day spent frolicking in and out of the hut, as the weather continued to be poopppaayy. Day 10 Don't cross the rivers past 11am-another zero day January 19th, 2017 As we woke up relatively late, we teetered about moving along to the next hut. Most of the other folks were moving on, however, the seven of us were on the fence about making moves. Eight if you include Chester the dog. We were especially concerned with the volatile weather and high wild rivers. Uh, kinda. What really worried us is that we wouldn't get beds if we hiked to the next hut. So, we decided to keep it real and hold down the fort at Top Wairoa for our second full day and third night in a row. Lolz. Plus the DOC guys told us not to cross the rivers after 11am, and it was definitely past the eligible crossing time. It was most certainly the longest any of us had ever stayed at a hut before, but it was an unforgettable and new experience that we all enjoyed together. We ended up having a confidential hut party, and were thrown into the vortex within our minds! Woooo man. What a long strange trip it's been. Well kinda, this being our 10th day on the trail and 2nd zero day in a row doesn't seem like we're making good progress. Lolz. At one point, when we noticed the sun had shone through the billowing clouds, we escaped the hut to explore the surrounding landscape. After a few days of rain and gloom, we all felt grateful for an idyllic taste of natural color and vibrancy in our lives. The sights of the deep green forests brought forth a pleasant contrast to the bright blue afternoon sky. We also spotted the red rolling hills in the distance- leading to discussions and appreciations for the wonders of nature. When we got back to the hut, Chester had gotten to the cheese, and ate about half of what we had left! Silly stinky Chester dog, cheese is for da kids! Later on, seven other TA walkers showed up, and there were fourteen people in the six person hut. Gee wilikers, it was crowded to say the least! We made it work though and worked out fitting all of us under one roof! Two of the new seven trampers were the German siblings that Warrick and Keitha had mentioned to us, so we were stoked to surprisingly meet them! Although a bit of a blur, we were pleased by our decision to stay and chill out in the hut for another day!