#turns out holding a round object and holding a roughly flat object require different hand positions to look natural!

[crystalpallette]

ever since valentine's day my discord pfp has been my vday ringo piece, but for april fools I wanted to mess with it a bit. so for a day (and a half) it was a bit of the piece edited to be poison ringo! but of course I put a bit too much effort into it and then it seemed like a waste to let it sit unused in my files forever, so I'm posting it now . happy april fools :)

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s S2 R&S - What is known as amazing the world

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a Rumours & Secrets, 所谓一鸣惊人, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

This R&S features S2 Shaw, but no knowledge of S2 is required to enjoy this~

In terms of sequencing, this is Shaw’s third S2 R&S!

[ Chapter One ]

When mentioning the tutor of the Archaeology Department in Loveland University, Professor Shen deserves greatest respect. Precisely because of the high academic requirements, he had not recruited graduate students in recent years. However, he didn't find anything wrong with this. He occasionally taught undergraduates, then immersed himself in his own academic research. His days followed a pretty regular pattern.

During such an ordinary time, Professor Shen met Shaw for the first time.

The day he interviewed Shaw was also the warmest afternoon in the late spring of Loveland City. The sycamore trees on both sides of the road were working hard to produce new buds. Professor Shen carried a pile of materials, walking across the sunny open space to the building where the graduate students were sitting for the second round of examinations.

So far, he had re-examined five students. Their performances were very mediocre, and there was still quite a lot of distance from his expectations. However, the student to be re-examined later was slightly different. The materials showed that he was directly recommended to him by Loveland University. Based on his age, he should be a young student. Amidst the twenty-five, twenty-six, and even older re-examinees, he had subconsciously left an impression on Professor Shen.

After dusting off the sycamore puffs that had fallen on his shoulders, Professor Shen entered the classroom. Before long, what accompanied the hands of the clock reaching 2pm were two beeps at the door of the classroom.

"Hello teacher, my name's Shaw.”

Hearing this, Professor Shen lifted his head. The boy at the door was indeed very young, but his flamboyant bluish purple short hair, incomparably avant-garde clothes, and flat expression without much of a smile rendered Professor Shen stunned for a second or two. But he quickly smoothened his expression, warmly beckoning Shaw to enter.

The student named Shaw wasn’t reserved at all. He sat down naturally on the chair in the middle, placing a black schoolbag casually at his feet.

Whether he was making judgments based on appearances or was no longer holding much hope, at that moment, Professor Shen thought that this was another interview where he would simply go through the motions. He raised some standard questions. Unexpectedly, Shaw actually answered them decently. Professor Shen's spirits gradually rose.

"What you wrote about in your undergraduate thesis was..." Professor Shen flipped through the materials in his hands. Just as he found the information, a clear voice sounded fluently. "《A Statistical Analysis of the Age and Gender of Human Skeletons Unearthed in Xushan》. It includes the basic condition of the unearthed human bones, any damage, pathological changes, as well as an analysis of the population and health of that period.”

"Does this mean you’re interested in physical anthropology?" Professor Shen pushed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, staring at Shaw with interest. "In that case, why did you apply to be my graduate student?" He needed to know that Professor Shen’s research direction was mainly on the appreciation of ancient appliances and field archaeology.

Faced with Professor Shen's sharp and intense gaze, Shaw didn’t panic at all. He shifted his overlapped legs, arching his eyebrows slightly. “Physical anthropology is a field that I wasn’t really familiar with, so I wanted to challenge it to learn more. Teacher's research direction is what I’m truly interested in." After he finished speaking, he added, "By the way, if I have the chance, I’d like to participate in field work a few times."

"Oh? The graduation thesis is such an important aspect. Isn’t challenging a new field very risky?" Professor Shen continued to probe.

Hearing this question, the corners of Shaw’s lips slanted, revealing his first smile of the day. However, there was an incredibly serious look in his eyes. He didn’t give a direct answer, but spoke leisurely, word by word. "Archaeology has always been a risk where expectations may end up fruitless. Don’t you agree?”

The re-examination and what Shaw said greatly exceeded Professor Shen's initial expectations. Outstanding schoolwork, comprehensive knowledge and an open-minded attitude. Except for seeming rather brash and conceited, Professor Shen wasn’t able to find fault with him at that moment. He drew a circle on Shaw's materials, then lifted his head to ask the final question:

"Student Shaw seems to be a young man with a lot of personality. So why did you choose the archaeology major that most people find boring?”

-

[ Chapter Two ]

The new semester has commenced for almost two weeks. For Professor Shen, aside from the need to attend a few more professional courses, his teaching life doesn’t seem to have changed much. He hasn't taken a graduate student in two years, and he hasn't gotten used to it yet. Fortunately, Shaw has never been someone who would simply wait passively.

After class this morning, Professor Shen returns to the office. Right after opening the stack of archaeological reports he’s been reading recently, there’s a sudden knock at the door.

"Shaw, is there a problem?" Professor Shen removes his reading glasses and asks composedly.

Shaw has a black backpack slung over one shoulder. He strides over to Professor Shen's desk. Scratching his own hair casually, he speaks with laziness in his tone. “Professor, you gave too little homework. Can’t you assign more?”

Professor Shen suddenly chuckles. Even though it’s only been two weeks since school started, he has already seen Shaw's agile mind and excellent learning speed. Professor Shen isn’t surprised by Shaw's request. But in his opinion, being overly eager isn’t always a good sign to rely on.

Professor Shen ponders for a moment, puts on his glasses again, then says to Shaw, "There’s another assignment, but I don't know if you’d be willing to do it.”

“Tell me about it?”

“You could draw pictures of the flowerbeds in school and objects in the classroom, then practice your fundamental sketching skills.”

Treating flower beds as ruins and objects as appliances is a method that many archaeology students use when practising sketching. But when this assignment comes out of Professor Shen's mouth...

Shaw sweeps a glance at the genial Professor Shen as he sits behind the desk. He purses his lips. Without a word, he hauls up his backpack and turns around, walking towards the office door. Just as he’s about to leave, he turns slightly with a soft “hmph”.

He doesn’t know if Professor Shen heard this sound, nor does he care that much. After all, he has once again immersed himself in the pile of archaeology reports.

-

Just after 5pm, Professor Shen hurries to a research meeting while carrying documents.

The sky at the end of summer is still very bright, clear and azure, without a single shadow of dusk. Professor Shen turns around a corner, and suddenly finds that the back not too far ahead is very familiar - the bluish-purple hair is one of the few in the whole of Loveland University, and he knows at a glance that it’s Shaw. And in front of Shaw, facing Professor Shen’s direction, is a girl with short hair and dressed in a delicate manner.

Professor Shen walks closer and closer. He’s unable to hear what the girl says, and only sees the shy expression on her face.

“Hey, I’m rushing to the band. You’re in the way.” Shaw’s voice is very cold, and even somewhat impatient. The girl seems a little reluctant to withdraw, and reaches out to grab Shaw. However, Shaw turns sideways and steps backwards, dodging instantly. At this point, Shaw knits his brows tightly, his eyes dyed with a sharp and impatient light. “I’ll repeat myself for the last time. I’m. Not. Interested.”

After saying this with a decisive attitude, Shaw walks away.

Walking from behind Shaw to a different branch of the corridor, Professor Shen grips the documents tightly. Actually, whether a student likes to be in a band or is adored by girls, these things belonging to the private lives of students aren’t what he’s interested in nor what he has ever interfered in. To him, what students place value on most are the quality of learning and professionalism. As for other things...

Professor Shen glances at his watch and subconsciously speeds up his pace. While he hurries, he hopes that his original judgment was correct, and hopes that Shaw is indeed a good successor worth cultivating, just as he appeared during the re-examination.

-

[ Chapter 3 ]

A week passes by suddenly.

Sitting at the desk which receives plentiful sunlight, Professor Shen flips through the stack of sketching assignments that Shaw had just handed in, an imperceptible smile of satisfaction on his lips.

In addition to printed computer drawings, another half are hand-drawn sketches by Shaw using a pen, and they are of pretty good quality. Over the years, Professor Shen had seen too many young kids neglecting hand-drawn sketches because they relied too much on computer drawings. No matter what decade it is, the most primitive and foundational skills should be the most solid.

The sense of gratification causes Professor Shen to sigh. However, the page he just flipped to causes him to stop abruptly - this is obviously not part of the drawing assignment. It looks like an analysis report... Professor Shen props up his glasses, reading it carefully from the beginning. Then, he realises that this is an analysis of archaeological reports. Flipping to the back roughly, he finds that coincidentally, this analysis is targeted at the stack of archaeological reports Professor Shen had been reading recently.

With no time to be surprised, Professor Shen straightens his back in an instant, sits up straight, and reads the analysis written by Shaw from start to finish carefully. Whether it’s the standardised writing format, the hypothesis proposed in response to pictures and existing materials, or the objectivity of the comparisons drawn, they can already be regarded as the standard of a professional. 

Even though he doesn’t know where Shaw obtained the archaeological reports, what is undeniable is that he used his "little brain". But what is even more undeniable is that just by skimming through the analysis, Professor Shen can see Shaw’s solid foundational and expansive knowledge.

Through this unassigned piece of homework, Professor Shen feels that what he sees isn’t just a very young student who’s just beginning graduate school. What’s displayed before his eyes is Shaw’s undiscovered potential and possibilities.

Professor Shen gets a full glass of water from the water dispenser, and Biluochun leaves twirl and dance in the transparent glass. He walks over to the window, blowing at the mouth of the cup. Then, he takes a few sips of tea slowly, appearing to be in a good mood.

In his mind, he recalls the content of the analysis report, as well as Shaw's appearance when he came to submit his assignment early in the morning.

At that time, his steps were confident and full of vigour. He walked straight to the table to set down his assignment, then raised his eyebrows in glowing spirits. "Professor, remember to read till the end."

Now that he thinks about it, Professor Shen seems to taste the unhesitating confidence and the unwillingness to admit defeat in Shaw's eyes that he didn’t notice before.

It looks like this kid felt that he was being underestimated before. Full of pent up grievances, he wanted to prove his capabilities! This was simply his slightly awkward yet incomparably confident demeanour...

Professor Shen sighs softly, then can’t help but chuckle.

Before him, the sun is still climbing up at 10am, but the radiance of sunlight is already incomparably dazzling.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

After a few autumn rains, Loveland City gradually turns cooling. Professor Shen's body isn’t very good, so he puts on a thick coat early.

On this day, Professor Shen comes to the office with a briefcase as usual. He methodically prepares Biluochun, takes out his materials and pen, and puts on his glasses. Just as he’s about to start work, the new young lecturer Xiao Fu suddenly turns to his desk while holding his phone. “Professor Shen, look at this quickly. This boy in the middle looks like your graduate student!"

“Why do I feel as if he might be that student of yours?" Teacher Fu looks increasingly certain that he’s correct. "I met him several times before. It’s that cool and triumphant look. Even the colour of his hair matches!"

Professor Shen lowers his head, pulling down his glasses, and the image on the phone screen is displayed in an instant. It seems to be a video of a performance. The musicians on stage are very lively, and the atmosphere under the stage seems to be extraordinarily enthusiastic. The person playing the bass intently and fervently in the middle - who else could he be but Shaw?

Even before Professor Shen speaks, Teacher Fu has already affirmed to himself. “That’s right, it’s him! I remember someone mentioning that he was in band, but I didn't expect him to look like this...”

Professor Shen's eyes are still focused on the phone screen. In the video, Shaw has the youthful vigour that he can only have at his age. He’s full of spirit, rebellious and eccentric, and exudes fervent vitality. He can attract everyone’s attention almost instantly, as though he's a natural focal point.

But such a Shaw seems slightly foreign to Professor Shen. In the past two or three months, the Shaw he has seen is a graduate student who rushes to and from school, but is very earnest in his specialised course, and is also very meticulous in research.

Teacher Fu has already taken his phone away and returned to his own desk. Professor Shen’s gaze returns to his materials, but there are still some emotions stirring in his heart.

The more interactions he has with Shaw, the more Professor thinks that he’s akin to a treasure. Although he may make someone feel conflicted, he always brings unexpected surprises to others. Initially, Professor Shen thought there might only be jade here. But after more digging, he found calligraphy and paintings and utensils. Thinking that this would be the end, taking a turn resulted in the digging of gold, silver, copper and iron. As for whether there would be other treasures in the future...

Knock knock.

Hearing knocks at the door, Professor Shen lifts his head instinctively - truly, speak of the devil.

"Professor, I came to ask about something." Shaw strides over. Standing before the desk, Shaw looks at Professor Shen with an indifferent expression, as if he’s just speaking thoughtlessly. "I heard that the excavation and inspection of the Hou Yin Tan site will be carried out soon. Anyway, my usual assignments aren’t urgent. I’m thinking of strolling around the area with you.”

Through the spectacle lenses, Professor Shen looks at the seemingly expressionless Shaw, and can’t help but chuckle.

He thinks to himself - perhaps no one has told Shaw that even though he always uses nonchalance as a cover, the insuppressible earnestness in his eyes are unable to conceal his genuine anticipation.

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

The excavation work has commenced for over a month, and everything is proceeding on tenterhooks and in an orderly manner.

Field excavation has always been a bitter and boring part of archaeological work. In addition to digging for long hours in a desolate field, it’s also common to find nothing after digging till the end. At the very least, Shaw has already experienced it several times this month.

It’s another cold and windy morning. Professor Shen comes to the excavation site early, only to find that Shaw hasn’t arrived yet, which is rare. Something noteworthy is that Shaw has been coming here earlier than him every day. But within a few minutes, Shaw appears, walking over while talking on the phone. Something is said on the other end of the line. Shaw arches his eyebrows in his signature style. "Tch, so long-winded... Got it.”

Professor Shen notices a cute rabbit pendant dangling from the bottom of Shaw’s phone, though he doesn’t know when it first appeared. He shows a smile of understanding, no longer paying attention to Shaw's actions, lowering his head to start a new day of work. After a while, a number of villagers from the vicinity also come over and they all greet Shaw first.

This is also something Professor Shen noticed on hindsight. At some point in time, Shaw had established a rapport with the villagers. Having the villagers in the vicinity cooperate and even participate in an amiable manner is another very important part of field excavation. In this aspect, Shaw's performance can be regarded as attaining a satisfactory full marks.

"Professor, leave the rest of the shaving to me." Shaw squats down beside Professor Shen, holding a shovel in his hand. Professor Shen doesn’t immediately express his opinion. Instead, he smiles slightly. "Finished your call with your girlfriend?" Shaw averts his eyes in a hurry, which is rare. He purses his lips. “Who said that she’s... Professor, don’t get infected by Mr Fu’s gossip.” Professor Shen chuckles while standing up slowly. Then, he pats Shaw on the shoulder. "I'll take a look at the pit."

Shaving is time-consuming and hard work, let alone shaving in winter. In spite of thin sunlight, the bitter cold wind hovers over the site, causing Shaw's nose to redden unknowingly. His ripped jeans have long since been covered in dust, and even his originally shiny earrings are coated in ash. Even so, Shaw simply kneels on the ground with ease, cleaning the ground while holding the shovel firmly, shovelling the ground and four walls carefully.

The shaving takes five hours.

Dinner naturally consists of a group of people eating together. When Shaw arrives, he has already taken a shower and is restored to a clean and refreshed state. However, when using chopsticks to pick out vegetables, Professor Shen notices his unusual behaviour immediately: he rarely moves his chopsticks, and he has been picking the vegetables slower than usual. After a few more glances, Professor Shen realises that his hands had turned swollen during the five consecutive hours of shaving.

Despite this, even after the meal is over, Shaw doesn’t say a word or complain at all.

Professor Shen is even more satisfied with the only graduate student he has. He can’t help but compliment him coolly. "You’ve done a good job recently. If you want to learn archeology properly, you must have this earnestness and inextinguishable momentum."

Shaw pauses for a second, but still has that triumphant expression when he speaks. "That goes without saying." But Professor Shen clearly sees how Shaw's eyes had lit up in an instant, and how his brows raised involuntarily.

Professor Shen smiles while shaking his head, looking at Shaw whose words don’t match his genuine feelings. He doesn’t know what Shaw experienced, and perhaps his cynicism is to some extent a defence mechanism. As long as he pretends not to care, there will never come a time when his expectations come to naught. And this also gives him a chance to rewind the situation. Even though amazing the world with brilliant feats bring with it surprises, it occasionally makes Professor Shen feel that what he’s doing is akin to a child looking forward to rewards...

With this thought in mind, Professor Shen smiles while walking away.

-

When Professor Shen arrives the next morning, many people are already surrounding the area. There’s an interview with the TV station today, and Professor Shen had long since pushed Shaw out. A young man with such an advantageous appearance is suitable to be on TV.

As expected, the host is holding the microphone and conducting the interview. Looking at Shaw’s knitted brows, Professor Shen can't help but laugh, knowing that he’s trying his best to answer patiently. At this moment, the host suddenly asks a rather familiar question. "Why are you studying archaeology?"

This question seems to pull time backwards to more than half a year ago, when Professor Shen met Shaw for the first time -

"Student Shaw seems to be a young man with a lot of personality. So why did you choose the archaeology major that most people find boring?”

Shaw arches his eyebrows. "Because I like it." He lifts his chin slightly, showing a determined smile. "Isn't liking something the greatest display of personality?”

More from S2: here

[midhavencryptids]

Rebecca Chapter 1 Test And Results

Based on Dr. Jekyll's Work becomes a very different Hyde, with an unexpected transgendered results.

The very start of Mr Edward Fletcher’s unwittingly transformative journey, where some bloods had been requested of him....

Note to readers all stories connecting with Midhaven (Mid-haven) are set in 1994. All the characters are purely fictional, and no way portray any real people or institutes of any kind.

MIDHAVEN:

Rebecca

By Maddie Jane Rann

1 Tests and Results

31st March 1994

Edward Fletcher sat anxiously in the empty waiting room of his local surgery for his appointment which was supposedly meant for 10:30am. He himself, was a gaunt and lanky looking 35 year old dressed in a slightly crumpled grey office suit. He had four inch long auburn hair which was styled into a centre parted undercut and also wore thin framed rectangular glasses. Restless with nerves knowing a blood test had been required of him by his new GP, Dr Elliot. He had only met the doctor once before, for some completely unrelated matter since he transferred from Bournemouth and taken over his previous doctor’s practice. Nevertheless, it was something that Edward really could of done without, plus the blood nurse was running late which only put him more on edge. Looking for some form of distraction he glanced to the low coffee table of magazines about three feet ahead of him. He rose slightly out of his chair, the red coloured tie dangled out of his jacket as he leaned forward. Shakily he rummaged through the assortment of ‘Glenda’ fashion magazines until clumsily knocking a couple of issues to the floor. In a panic he picked them up and placed them neatly in a tidy pile on the table before collapsing back into his chair with a sigh of embarrassment.

“You tit.” He uttered

He gave up the clock that was hanging on the far end wall an impatient glance, it was now 10:43.

“It's cutting it a bit fine.” He muttered to himself, he had an important meeting at 11:15 which he must attend the weekly briefing of the Lindenbay shopping district on the Harbour which he was appointed as a senior architect, then he was expected on site thereafter. As this was a fasting test he was just hoping there might have been chance of breakfast before his work begun.

Moments later he caught from the corner of his left eye, an elderly couple being led carefully out of the phlebotomy room and then the nurse as she watched them creep past the reception and out the main entrance. Then she turned and looked down towards him with her hands on hips.

“Edward Fletcher!” She called sternly yet with a playful tone. To him the calling was like the tolling of the iron bell, but the aged female voice was familiar and somewhat soothing to his recollection. He turned nervously to meet his calling only to smile with some relief that it was his Mother’s friend June who was on duty today.

“Oh....um, June, hello.” He greeted standing to his full height of 6ft1.

“April Fools by chance? No? Not today?”

“Hello Eddy, come this way.” The 60-year-old Nurse beckoned him with a smirk and led him into the poky room that housed a singular black leather treatment chair which was bolted to the floor. There was a tall fan blowing in the corner that made June’s blue disposable apron flitter dramatically in its breeze.

“If you could remove your jacket and roll up both sleeves before taking a seat, I do like to have my pick of veins.”

“Oh yes OK.” Edward did as he was bided.

“You seem a little tense Eddie? Anything the matter?” She asked whilst checking over his notes.

“Ah well you know…. It’s a blood test and…..” He began as he sat in the treatment chair gazing around at the four blind walls and quickly objecting.

"There are no windows in here?”

“Yes, you would think us phlebotomists were all vampires or something, you should know by now I don’t bite, just prick a little.” She smiled.

“Ah ha yes, that’s what I’m actually afraid of…...” He added with a nervous laugh.

“Oh, I see….. You fall under Dr. Elliot, lucky you, with your infamously well-known fear of needles and all. I don’t know. He’s always requesting bloods for one thing or another, usually something mundane coupled with genomic testing. Usually, I thought it was something reserved as a premium treatment, never known a doctor to request this as much. Seems to be his style, I guess, prefers the full ins and outs of his patients’ right down to their DNA. Anyhow he keeps me busy.”

“Terrific, lucky me indeed.” Edward squirmed as he tried to get comfortable on the leather seat.

“Liver function…. right.” She started to look for the colour coded phials through the equipment draws.

“I think Dr Elliot had been concerned with my history of drinking.” Edward mentioned shamefully

“Uh huh.” June sighed knowing all too well.

“And how’s that been going?”

“Very well, though I have had a few dips late. But only on occasions.”

June pouted with disbelief.

“Really?”

“Ahh, look, to be honest, it’s this shopping centre development it’s been really getting to me of late.”

“Oh really? You’re doing that now? It looks very exciting what they’ve been planning for the harbour.” Said June.

“Uh huh yeah, well you know when they had to halt construction during the discovery of the 14th century burial pit, it was all over the Midhaven Messenger for weeks on end. Well by the time the archaeologists had finished the architectural firm that had been employed for the project had gone bust leaving our firm to immediately take over. They left so many flaws it was unbelievable, never mind the parts that were left unfinished. A complete and utter mess, to be fair, that shouldn’t have gone as far as planning yet alone construction! You know they left 18 shop spaces, completely blocked off with no access!”

In meantime of Edwards complaining she had found the correct phial and took another look at his notes….

“Ah…. I thought so, bang on style, genomics too, right where did I leave those tubes. OK just sit back Eddy I won’t take long at all. Talk about drinking have you diluted yourself with plenty of water?”

“Oh yes Aunty June……. and have been fasting since 10 past last night.” As he saw it was on the tip of her tongue.

“Very good….. Just for security reasons could you confirm your address and date of birth please? Just so I know it’s you.”

“But you already know….” He stopped with June’s glaring, over the top of her glasses.

“Ohhh…. 15th of the 4th 1958 and 13 A Mitchell Avenue, Midhaven, MD1 JH3.” He sighed.

“Very good Eddy.” She confirmed then gave her hands a singular clap before scooting away from her desk in her wheeled desk chair to Edwards left side.

“Now just relax and I promise I won’t take too much.”

He gulped as the needle of doom was now inevitable, yet knew he was in safe hands. His eyes wondered from his Mum’s old friend preparing his arm for the surgical procedure to staring at the collection of photos stuck to the wall ahead of him. These pictures were an odd assortment of carnival masks and cocker spaniels, he figured it was probably something that either June or another blood nurse had put together for the patients to focus on rather than the blood being taken.

7thof April 1994

A few days later as Dr Elliot came to work he was handed several letters from the front desk that had arrived the day before. His brow rose with intrigue noticing that they all came from the Phlebotomy labs in the city. He thanked the receptionist with a smile of gratitude before taking the envelopes and his briefcase to his office. Without another moment he sat at his desk and was readily opening the envelopes with great enthusiasm. Dr Elliot who was an average looking man in his late middle years with silver hair that swept across his head. He also bore thick black eyebrows that were currently furrowed behind large paned glasses. These letters were indeed the latest round of test blood results that he requested, though he was more interested in his patient’s genomics, seemingly at first to disregard the other. He speedily went through two lots scouring them closely only to not finding what he was looking for. It wasn’t until his third envelope and opening it with a sigh to only expecting the same humdrum when something caught his eye that instantly gave him a chills, something exciting as he ran through the latest sets of numbers. A look of long lost cheer came to his grey middle aged face as he quickly drew a red pen from the desk tidy and roughly circled the odd allele scores that brought him to such frenzy. Once finished he slapped his left hand down on the edge of the desk then opened a draw just underneath, lifting the corners of a couple of folders that concealed a small flat key. He took hold of it before springing out of his chair, and almost skipped to the grey metallic filing cabinet that stood beside the window only 6ft to his left. Pushing the key into the lock of the bottom draw then turned it and pulled the handle. In seconds he was leafing through the murky green coloured folders until he found the one he was searching. Taking away the whole folder he returned to his desk and sat down before spreading out a few pages of his interest, one was another set of genetics like the one he marked. He ran his finger through the results.

“Ha!” He barked and scribbled circles around similar results in the same red pen. He beamed with joy as he held them studying them side by side, his mind now racing with possibilities. This was the opportunity that he and his associate had been waiting for, for quite some time with now just the thought that they might finally reach their goal in the next couple of days, if they planned it right. After a moment of pause for consideration he put down the paper and picked up the handset on the cream coloured desk telephone. He held it to his left ear and keyed in the number. While he waited for his recipient to pick up the phone he took time to find the name of the patient whom the results belonged to.

“Mr Edward Fletcher? What a lucky man you are.”

He smiled heartily when the other end of the line was picked up and proceeded to speak in bright and theatrical manner.

“Ah, good morning my dear May! It’s Elliot here….. Yes!…. Yes!….. I’m quite aware how early it is for you, but if you must be up all night skulking around until the early hours…. My point?” He was taken back by his recipient’s seeming impertinence.

“Now if you give me a little time and patience, I can inform you of some very good news that came by post this morning.” He picked up the results.

“Yes…. it’s some genomes if you care, from one of my patients, they came back from…. Yes, he has all the right faults that I have been looking for, in all the right places for the formula to work. This is it, my dearest May, this is it.” He listened to the receivers reply though by the sinking look on his face it was probably a reply of a dreary lack of enthusiasm.

“All right…. I shall tell you what…. “He breathed rubbing his temple in frustration.

“We shall reconvene this matter when I come off duty…. About half 6…. you say you’ll meet me. Of course, the usual place, the old sail factory, we can set up the equipment at once. Then we can decide how to safely capture our specimen. Until then I’ll let you have your sleep… oh.” May hung up cutting the call abruptly.

“You may even wake up a little less insolent too.” He said to himself glumly and still holding the phone to his ear, in a delayed moment later returned it to the base.

“But that of course would be asking too much of you my dear.” He sighed

Dr Elliot looked at his clock it was 8:30, then hurriedly gathered the test results and associated papers in the folder just before the receptionist knocked on the door.

“Coffee Dr Elliot?” She called.

“That would be lovely Miss Tibbs, please come in.” He replied with a big arm gesture, the young lady entered with a mug of filtered coffee in one hand and a printed A4 sheet of booked appointments in the other which placed on top of his desk next to the folder.

“There you go Doctor, milk and no sugar and your appointments for today.”

“Ahhh….Thank you so kindly.” He said and then began studying the list as she backed out the office. He nodded when he understood the workload ahead and took a sip of his coffee, then picked up his folder and placed it in his desk draw before dutifully calling for his first patient by pressing the button of the intercom device that was sat next to his telephone.

“Mr Utterson to see Dr Elliot, come to room 2 please, I am quite ready to see you now.”

next chapter

https://midhavencryptids.tumblr.com/post/629310030007713792/rebecca-chapter-2-edwards-day

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Four

okay i’m gonna leave it here for now and post the other four chapters i have in the drafts when i get home from work,,, hope u enjoy!! (pls let me know if u do)

Prophecy Masterlist

wc; 2532

He strolled through the woods calmly, as he did almost everyday. The route was so familiar to him that he could walk the grassy path with his eyes closed. Not that he would do that, of course. It would be foolish, leaving oneself so vulnerable in the open. The tide splashed angrily against the sand a handful of metres away. He sighed deeply; the recent storm had wrecked the forest surrounding his secluded home. He just hoped the natural resources he needed hadn't been destroyed by those dangerous winds. Above him, the usual canopy of green had almost all disappeared, torn away by the harsh hands of the rain. He wrinkled his nose at being so exposed to the sunlight.

Eventually he passed through the alley of trees and stepped out onto the grey beach. Despite the sun, the sand was not glittering as it usually would. The waters were murky, disgruntled from the rage of the storm. His walnut coloured eyes sparkled softly as he surveyed his surroundings. His hair, soft and daffodil hued sat both messily and neat in gentle curls. It parted in the middle, allowing his piercing eyes to glare at people he didn't like.

Which was almost everybody.

Living alone on the outskirts of the most powerful kingdom sounded better than it actually was. He preferred to be alone, that way he could do his work without being distracted. But being a mage was exhausting work, and having someone cook his dinner when he was exhausted would be quite nice. Nevertheless, the magician was disliked purely out of fear. He was powerful. All mages were.

Living inside the kingdom was too risky for both himself and the citizens of the kingdom, so the king gave him a sizable amount of land roughly a mile away from the kingdom walls. He couldn't complain really. The mage's land consisted of mainly woods, which backed out directly onto the coastline. Luckily for him it was dense in herbs and creatures he needed for his work, so it worked out well for him in the end.

That's exactly what he was doing this gloomy morning. The sun was there, but barely. Hidden behind the clouds, clearly the sun was in no mood today. The ocean wasn't particularly happy either, like it had been drinking ale for 3 days straight and was currently trying not to explode from the hangover.

The mage had no idea what that was like.

Squinting at the sand, he began his search. He hated this part of being a mage. Skills in magic often required a basic knowledge in alchemy, and collecting the ingredients was the bane of his existence. Unfortunately for him, the only local source of this particular substance could only be harvested from sand mandrakes. The most annoying little bastards he had ever had the displeasure of coming across. Typical mandrakes were easy enough to come across, as if you accidentally stepped on one during a stroll in the woods they would scream bloody murder and possibly attempt to poison you.

But these ones would bury themselves underneath the sand and wait to attack you on purpose. He hated them.

No, he loathed them.

However, he really did need that specific ingredient, so he took a deep breath, pushed his golden hair back and prepared himself.

Yet, what he discovered on the beach was not what he needed, nor what he had expected.

A body lay, face-down, flat out just beyond the reach of the tide. He could tell by the darkness of the clothing that the person was soaked to the bone. Whether or not they were alive was a different matter, though. He sighed and approached the body cautiously, in case it was some kind of dead-alive, drowned hybrid-thing that would try and bite him when he got a little too close.

"Hello?" he called out quietly. "Are you dead?"

No answer.

"Excuse me," he tried again. "are you sunbathing?"

He rolled the body over so they were laying on their back. The mage inspected the body with his eyes and internally groaned.

Great. A human. A woman too.

He had nothing against women, but it meant that he couldn't just leave her on the beach. It he had found a random man, he probably would have done exactly that. But he was a polite mage, he had manners.

He also didn't want to be charged with murder if the guard patrol found a dead woman close to the mage's home. Most authorities would use anything to throw a magic wielder in jail. The only reason he was able to walk free was that he helped the king at his request. The king had a fascination for magic. The mage felt rather uncomfortable knowing that was the only reason he was alive, but he supposed it was better than being dead.

With a groan, he scooped the woman up into his arms.

"Talk about dead weight, holy shit"

He huffed as he began his hike back to his shack. As he walked, he glanced down at the unconscious figure he was carrying.

Her hair was wild, as if she had been dragged through an entire thicket of bushes a minimum of one hundred times. Her skin was covered in dirt, dried sand and honestly only god knows what else. He could feel her breathing shallowly, so that was a relief. At least now he wouldn't be responsible for her death.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and cursed.

"Fuck sake!" He shot an angry glare at the woman he was carrying. "I didn't get the fucking mandrakes!"

-----

A warm, soothing scent washes over you, and you crack your eyes open the tiniest bit. First, you notice the pounding inside your skull, reasonating like a drum in a huge, empty hall, the bass bouncing off every wall. It's a dull ache but it's there. Your sight is still blurred from sleep, but above you, you can make out something vaguely wooden. Most likely a roof.

A roof?

You're inside?

Forgetting all your pain, you bolt upright, panicked.

"Where am I?" you blurt aloud.

Surveying your surroundings, you realise you're most definitely inside somebodies house. Despite having never been here before, it has a very welcoming feel to it. A lit brick hearth was directly opposite you, exuding a comfortable warmth as the wood inside it crackled. The room you were in was fairly large, with a single window and arrays of plants adorning every surface and crawling up the walls. The room smelt earthy and fresh too, like the roots of the flowers and emerald leaves made up part of the structure of the house itself. You wouldn't be surprised if it did.

Slowly, you pull yourself up off the bed and pace over to the window. The round, oak table just below it is cluttered with petals, pencils and other various objects you couldn't even attempt to identify. Multiple pots line the windowsill, each one filled with flowers the shade of bumblebees. You run your fingers gently over the honey coloured petals, gasping quietly when they radiate a yellow shine onto your hand.

"Ficaria verna," a deep voice startles you from the threshold of the door. "pretty, aren't they?"

You nod silently in response, staring at him blankly.

"Celandine?" He tries again, approaching both you and the flowers carefully. Again, you have zero idea what he was talking about.

With a sharp sigh, he plucks one of the flowers from the cluster of plants and holds it gently underneath your chin. You couldn't see it, but you assume the skin grazing the little yellow bud was glowing gold.

"Buttercups," he murmurs. "if they shine under your chin, that means you like butter"

You nod meekly, deciding that pretending to know what this mysterious man is talking about is the best course of action. Instead, your confused brain has other plans.

"Who are you?" you burst out. "Why am I here?"

His hand falls from your face, discarding the buttercup onto the table and turning back to you with a sour scowl.

"Is that any way to address somebody who just saved your life?" He snaps at you.

"I-" He moves closer to you, forcing you to back up.

"Is that any way to address somebody who welcomed you into his house? Completely ruining his plans for the day?"

You stand frozen, back pressed against the tough wood of the wall. Why was he suddenly being cold towards you? Naturally you wouldn't expect a stranger to be warm and welcoming off the bat but inititally he had seemed quite friendly. Did you annoy him by not knowing about plants? You didn't want to be rude but the average human being didn't possess an extensive knowledge about multitudes of vegetation.

"Human being?" he mused playfully. Your eyebrows shoot up in shock.

Did you say that out loud?

He stares down at you for what seems like millenia, his sandy hair falling forward the slightest bit as he towers over you. His silence is daunting and honestly, you have no idea what to do except just stand there. After all, you're a guest in this unknown person's house. And he did save your life, so the least you could do was just be quiet.

He reclines abruptly and sticks his large, calloused hand out to shake your own. You reciprocate the greeting shyly, your much smaller hand completely engulfed in his. Much like how the ocean totally swallowed you up.

"I'm Yeosang," he smiles. "I found you knocked out on the beach this morning. Any idea how you got there?"

"The storm," you explain. "I got caught in the middle of it and it threw me about like a ragdoll"

Yeosang steps away from you, leaving his bedroom into the main room of his shack and prompting you to follow him with a nod of his head.

The central room to the house is breathtakingly beautiful. Circular in shape, a collosal maple trunk stands proudly in the center, supporting the rest of the building like a pillar. Surrounded by open space and natural light, you have a hard time believing that you hadn't stepped into another dimension. The body of the trunk run straight up through the middle of the room, leaving you wondering where both the base and peak of the maple actually were.

The sunlight filters through the windows and also beams down between the branches of viridescent leaves above you, making you feel like you were in a fairytale. You half expected a fawn to come barrelling through, tripping over his spindly little legs but still determined nonetheless.

Still stood in the threshold of the bedroom, you stand statue-like, gaping at the view.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Yeosang smirks, stirring a pot which sat above a crimson brick stove over to your right. "It requires a lot of maintanance but it's worth it."

"It's so beautiful... It doesn't look real!"

Yeosang ladles the liquid from the pot into some bowls, and walks to the opposite side of the giant maple trunk. He places your bowl on a small, rickety looking table then he sits down in an equally rickety looking chair on the other side.

You politely sit down and eye your meal. You don't want to be picky but... it doesn't look very appetising.

"What-what exactly is this?" You ask in the kindest way possible.

He raises an eyebrow at you from across the table, and you pray to the heavens you haven't royally pissed him off. In a panic, you attempt to change the subject.

"How do you keep everything from burning in here? It's literally all wood! And there's no way it can be so naturally beaut-"

"Magic." Yeosang cuts you off, his voice cold and hard. "I didn't have to bring you back here, you know. I could've left you on the beach to die. I know the mandrakes get hungry quickly this time of year"

You gulp, his gaze on you now dark and polar opposite to the welcoming demeanor he had before.

"But I helped you anyway," he continued. "Better I found you anyway than the Ateez guards, they probably would've killed you right there on the sand."

Is he really this mad over a bowl of (what looks like) soup?

"I'm sorry!" You argue back. You don't really care who this Yeosang thinks he is right now. You have no home, literally nothing to your name and he's being a dick for no reason? This isn't fair.

"I'm sorry for inconvieniencing you by washing up on that beach. Maybe you should've let me die! I don't know who you are or why you're getting angry with me so if you're quite finished, I'd like to leave!"

You glare at each other angrily over the table. The both of you stay silent for a few moments, until Yeosang suddenly starts spooning soup into his mouth. You look at him incredulously; what is with this guys mood?

Deciding to play along and also knowing that if you did leave, you'd have nowhere to go, you also begin sipping the bubbling soup. You discover it is actually very delicious, and now you feel like a fool for insulting both the food and the confusing blonde man who you technically were indebted to now.

"I don't expect anything in return for saving your life," he says matter-of-factly. "I can see that you possess nothing of value to me on your person. However I may be willing to help you out, on a few conditions"

He lays his spoon back in the bowl and folds his arms, leaning back into his chair and waiting for your reply.

"And what are these conditions?" You ask, continuing to eat.

"You help me out when I need it, and I'll let you stay with me. Because you evidently are not from around here, and frankly, going up to the Ateez territory looking like that wouldn't do you any favours"

Offended, you look down at your mud-caked clothes, stiff from being soaked and drying awkwardly on your body. You realise too your hair is a complete wreck, sticking up in so many directions a compass would have a hard time figuring it out. It's matted and clumped together and you already know it'll be painful to fix. So maybe Yeosang does have a point, albeit a rude one.

You ponder his invitation, glancing around his stunning, fairy-tale home. Really, you have no reason to decline; you have no home, no job, and it could be an opportunity for you to start fresh, forget about your past as a lonely thief on the streets.

"Okay," you nod, peering straight into Yeosang's icy blue eyes. "I do what you ask, you let me stay."

He nods back, satisfied.

You finish the remainder of your soup (pottage, he tells you) and you turn to him as he washes the bowls.

"What now?"

He turns to you with a grin, one you haven't seen from him yet and it fills you with dread immediately.

"Fancy a trip to the beach?"

He was definitely going to kill you.

Chapter Five

[4golfiya]

Are Golf Lessons Worth The Price?

Basic Golf Instruction

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Selecting a Qualified Private Golf Instructor, "Are Golf Lessons Worth The Price?"

If you have decided to engage a qualified private golf instructor to hone your golf skills, don't hurry into a commitment. It's better to legislature for a high faithfulness educator rather than just hurry into lessons with the first person willing to give them. Ask a pen of difficulty before beginning. If you know that someone else is transmitting private golf lessons, as them how they feel closely the esteem of the instruction they are getting. Is the golf instructor punctual? Do they always give the full scheduled lesson or do they shave a few minutes off here and there? What are their cancellation policies? If the instructor cancels are you entitled to a free succession lesson? How often do they cancel?

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[eddiejpoplar]

Grand Touring Across California in a 2018 Lexus LC 500

CAMBRIA, California — It was probably around the third visit to the Lexus stand when I realized I was staring at one of the most striking, captivating cars I’ve ever seen. This in 2016, at a frigid, snowbound Detroit auto show, when Lexus trotted the stunning LC 500 out for its world debut. I distinctly remember returning to the Lexus show stand multiple times, trying to drink as much of the LC 500 as I could. Fast forward over a year, and I’ve nabbed the keys to a Liquid Platinum 2018 Lexus LC 500 for the weekend. With an evening and two full days cleared out, I’m set to explore what happens when Japan plants its flag in European-held territory.

For the record, I never said the LC 500 is beautiful, and after hours of oogling, I’m not sure it is. It’s alluring, engrossing, and unbelievably unique, but I remain unconvinced it’s objectively a beautiful car. In place of conventional good looks we get something incredibly original, and that’s worth the nearly six-figure price of entry alone. Aside from perhaps a handful of canopy lines, the LC is a wild, origami moonshot away from the established design consiglieri at Aston, Ferrari, Mercedes, and Jaguar.

The whole shape is awash with contradiction–that massive grille really, really shouldn’t work as well as it does. We paid for the Predator-aping Spindle Grill with the tax of time, dealing with different iterations until Lexus finally made it work. On the older RX models, it’s garish and gaping. On the LC, it’s arguably the most significant portion of the design, yanking the taut curves and angles from the front half of the body forward.

If you see one in person, spend some time walking around the 187.4-inch-long coupe. This isn’t an easily digestible shape—save for the BMW i8, this is the closest we’ve gotten to a concept car that snuck into production. From the insane, thick wheel design to the abruptness of the flat side, you could spend hours and not fully understand why the design “works.”

Inside, it’s not quite as shocking as the outside wrapper. It’s still very much sculptural, with gently rising curves and flat surfaces that create an environment much more special than more pedestrian Lexus offerings. Most of the buttons were heavy and comprised of metal, and the leather was some of the richest I’ve seen from the brand. On the door, sweeping lines ascended up the suede insert, interrupted by a floating door handle that’s as elegant as anything I’ve seen on much, much more expensive cars.

Things only get better once you find the metal start button behind the steering wheel, nudging the 5.0-liter naturally aspirated V-8 to life. Sound familiar? It should be—this is the same 2UR-GSE V-8 we’ve enjoyed since its debut in the 2008 IS-F. 471 hp and 398 lb-ft of torque are on tap, routed to the rear wheels through Lexus’ 10-speed automatic transmission.

It’s an older heart and you’ve got to punt the needle to the top to extricate the power, but that only means you can drink in the sensational soundtrack. The 5.0 is shared with the GS F and RC F, but it never sounded better (or louder) than it does in the LC. Much like the styling, the sound is wholly unique – not European, not American. There’s a touch of euro about it, but brings in a pure mechanical thrash accompanied by a gutsy intake resonance that I haven’t heard anywhere else.

At 4,280 pounds, it’s not light, but GTs by definition are weighty, substantial vehicles. Weight-shaving ascetisisim is the antithesis of grand touring—there’s always insulation, big engines, cushy seats, and complicated sound systems to keep occupants cosseted. Thanks to the V-8, performance is more than adequate, with 0-60 mph arriving in a claimed 4.4 seconds, and a top speed limited to 168 mph.

GTs are dual-purpose vehicles, offering the capability to dance around a slippery highland pass when the coastal path is too clogged with tour buses. For handling, I checked into the canyon roads weaving above Malibu, hitting all my regular paths. These tight, technical roads proved too claustrophobic for the LC’s sizeable hips and too bumpy for the over-active traction control system that cut power completely on more than one occasion.

Quickly, I charged through LA freeways to Angeles Crest, a canyon pass more sympathetic to wider, faster cars. Here, the LC was at home, holding sharply to the Crest’s myriad sweepers. As a bonus, there’s a tunnel near the top for bouncing the V-8 off the top of the tach.

Dynamically, it drives as well as you would expect it to, with medium-weight steering and easy, powerful brakes. Don’t expect much for tight, small corners, but long, gradual curves are the LC’s forte. As before, peak power arrives toward the top of the range, requiring a heavy foot to hustle, which is slightly off-key for GTs. You want consistent power delivery down low, with an unfussy transmission. The 10-speed was quick, but too often it would get confused and hold a gear too long, or upshift far too quickly.

After returning home that night, I wasn’t convinced I’d done any real GT-ing in the stop-and-go LA traffic. Sunday was fast approaching, so I laid out a course up north to Cambria, California for the next morning.

Located roughly 250 miles northeast of my home in the South Bay, the village of Cambria is a picturesque seaside hideout in-between Los Angeles and San Francisco. Aside from Hearst Castle and the nearby pine forest, there isn’t much to see here, but it makes for a perfect endpoint to a scenic coastal sprint.

In the morning, I’m out the door before the sun fully breaches the horizon. The Rioja Red leather-and-suede seats are a touch chilly, so both the seat and the steering wheel heaters are clicked on. It’s a 20 minute stroll through empty beachside streets to the highway, enjoying the LC’s comfortable ride and excellent sound system before I reach the 101.

For a brief stretch before Santa Barbara, the 101 touches the coast, providing spectacular vistas that fall right in line with the elegance of the LC 500. Out on the straight and smooth tarmac, it’s quiet and refined, showing very little of the raucous V-8 character found up on the Crest. Passengers in other cars crane their necks as I pass, likely taken aback at the Lexus badge on the rear bumper.

The Lexus’ 21.7-gallon fuel tank means I don’t have to stop for fuel until my destination, giving me peace of mind. In Cambria, I cruise around the wooded hills in search of photo spots before giving up and returning to downtown for some lunch. It was barely mid-day, and I still had some travel legs under me, so I set my sights on wine country.

A quick loop around Cambria puts me back on the 101, before shortly turning off onto highway 46. This meanders through straw-colored hills for 30-odd miles before washing into Paso Robles, one of the many wine-centric areas of California. I’m not the biggest oenophile, so I was here for the scenery – and to open the taps on the LC a little more. Exploration concluded with a cruise through wineries and farmlands, stopping on the side of a secluded backroad for another chance to oogle the LC.

It was only mid-afternoon, but I had a six hour drive ahead of me, and I had already been in the seat most of the day. I pointed the Lexus’ spindle grille toward home and fired, winding back down the coast and through increasingly clogged highways. I arrived long after the sunset, but was not much worse for the wear. Through the roughly 600-mile round trip, the Lexus proved to be as comfortable, approachable, and entrancing as its much more expensive and finicky European counterparts.

Job well done? I think so. The LC could almost get by on its stunning looks alone, and didn’t have to feel as satisfying to drive as it did. The LC 500 and LC 500h are the first of the breed, and considering this is a clear shot across the bow of the established GT players, watch this space for higher-performance variants to arrive in the future.

So, the next time your Cambria calls, give the 2018 Lexus LC 500 a try – it just might be better than you expect.

2018 Lexus LC 500 Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $92,995  (base) ENGINE 5.0L DOHC 32-valve V-8/471 hp @ 7,100 rpm, 398 lb-ft @ 4,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 10-speed automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 4-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 16/26 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 187.4 x 75.6 x 53.0 in WHEELBASE 113.0 in WEIGHT 4,435 lb 0-60 MPH 4.4 sec TOP SPEED 168 mph

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