#walking around in a big city on asphalt with no big trees around during august is the worst

[dcnatural]

Don’t Blame Me

Word Count: 2130

Pairing: Reader x Poison Ivy

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: You work at Gotham's Botanical Garden, and one night, you run into Poison Ivy

Love is a drug. And a powerful one. You had learned that the hard way.

You were fresh out of high school, in the summer before university started. You had found a job as a caretaker for Gotham’s Botanical Garden, a large area filled with flowers and trees that barely ever got any visitors. You liked working there, you watered the plants, pruned the bushes, and got to enjoy the quietness of the garden reading a book on the sunlight.

She was young and brilliant. Her genius had granted her a great scientific career even at an early age. A career which abruptly ended, marking the beginning of a new life of crime. She had conned and killed many of Gotham’s rich and famous, her beauty was fatal, but irresistible nevertheless. She loved the nature, and the Botanical Garden had always been one of her favorites places in the city, so when she escaped Arkham, she sought refuge there.

Love is a poison. It burns through your veins, going directly to your heart, from where it kills you, little by little.

* * *

It was around the middle of June. You woke up late in the afternoon, back against the hard stone bench, in which you had fallen asleep. Looking up, you could see the faint outline of the moon beginning to show in the sky, as the sun descended. The noises from the rush hour invaded your precious sanctuary: cars engines, vehicles horns, wheels scraping on the asphalt.

You being to make your way back to the visitor’s centre, where you leave your stuff during the day, planning to change clothes, lock the park and go home, but, as you walk through the heart of the garden, a low humming catches your attention. You had believed to be alone, your few co-workers having long left, but from where you stood, the noises from the outside world couldn’t reach you, the song had to be coming from inside the park. Curious, you looked around, trying to find its source, but as far as you could view, you were all by yourself. 

You were about to resume your journey when you felt something tangle itself on your left ankle. You instinctively pulled away, but the thing had grabbed you tightly. You scream as you notice the large vine keeping you in place, it’s grip becoming tighter every second. Before you can bow down to free yourself, matching plants take hold of your arms and right leg. There’s a shuffle as a woman comes down from the tree tops, balancing herself in a swing made of vines.

Her long scarlet hair cascades down her back, her skin is slightly greenish, just enough to differentiate her from a normal person. You recognize her immediately: Poison Ivy.

You try to speak, but the words won’t leave your mouth. If it wasn’t by the vines keeping you in place, you would be shaking. A small smile forms in her dark green lips as she walks gracefully towards you. The way she moves her hips is hypnotizing. As she approaches, she brings with her the smell of flowers, which floods your nostrils. You can’t pinpoint which flower is it, and perhaps it’s a scent yet unknown to mankind.

She holds your chin in her soft hands, tilting your head to one side and then another. Her greens eyes lock into yours, her gaze penetrating your soul. Now you understand why men would do anything for her: she is beautiful.

"What do we have here?", she whispers, eyes still looking into you. Her voice is sweet and melodic. You still can’t bring yourself to speak, but that’s okay, as the question was more for herself than for you.

 She walks around you, her sharp fingernails never leaving your skin. She evaluated you like a hunter looking at its prey. You shiver. 

“What are you doing here?”, she asks, facing you. 

“Uhh, I wo-work here”, you stutter.  

She presses her finger on the Botanical Garden logo embroidered in your t-shirt. “Right. The park is closed. What are you still doing here?”, she hisses.

“Well, you shouldn’t be here either”, as soon as the words leave your mouth you want to swallow them back.

Her eyes narrow and you are sure she’s going to kill you, but then, she laughs. The vines hold on you begin to loosen and they crawl back from wherever they had come from. You fall forward, but Ivy’s arm catch you and help you regain your balance. 

“I fell asleep…and woke up just now”, you confess, you voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just going to pick up my things and get out of here. I swear I didn’t even know you were here”, you tell her, hoping she would let you go.

She runs a hand along your jaw bone, caressing your skin. “Are you scared?”

“Yes”, you admit.

She throws her head back in a laugh. “I promise I won’t poison you. Now, I was singing to the plants, it’s good for their health. Would you like to join?” With a gesture she brings back the swing and hops on it, reaching out her hand for you to take.

You consider your options: going back to your empty house or staying there with a psychopath. The answer is obvious. You take her hand and let her pull you to the vine swing, which rises slowly under her command. You sit by her side on a thick branch and let her sweet voice fills your ears.

* * *

Love makes you do crazy things. It drives you insane. It’s the worst obsession one could ever have. 

You begin to leave the park later every night, wanting to spend all the time you could with Ivy. You talked and learned you had a lot in common: movies, music, book, food and, of course, your shared love for the nature. You told her that you would study biology at Gotham’s University when the summer was over. She told you how she hoped to clean the Earth from those who hurt it.

In high school, you would flirt with the popular kids and go out in dates just to fit in, you wanted to be around the cool kids, but you never cared for them. Now, for the first time, in this dark little paradise that was your midnight garden, you were beginning to fall in love. And you knew she was falling for you.

Love is strange. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for it, and yet, it almost never gives you anything.

* * *

It was the beginning of July, you and Ivy were laying in the grass covered ground, looking at the stars and eating the candies you had brought her.

“Camila”, she calls. You flip your head to look at her. She was beautiful like always, the moonlight illuminating her soft features, her hair spread under her head like a fan, a few droplets of rain speckled on her skin.

“Yes?”

“Why do you stay here? You should be out there with your friends”, she stretches her hand as if she is going to touch you, but pulls back before she reaches you.

“You are my friend”, this time you reach to touch her, and places your hand over hers.

“You know what I mean. You must have better things to do than hanging out with a criminal.”

“And you must have better things to do than hang out with someone as mundane as me.” She laughs. You move closer to her. So close you can hear her beating heart. “Pamela”, you begin, using her real name, “I like you. I really like you.”

The words hang in the air between the two of you. For a moment you wonder what she will do. Will she reject you? Or will she kiss you? She seems to contemplate that too. The seconds feel like hours. And then she finally closes the gap between you and kiss you. Her lips are soft and she tastes like fresh peaches. Her arms wrap around you, pulling you into a tight hug and you let yourself melt under her.

* * *

Love is like a fire, burning bright and fast, consuming everything on its way.  

You saw her when you closed your eyes, ached for her touch when you were alone, her voice echoed in your head even while you slept. You spent the days wishing that the night came faster. Because at night, under the trees and stars, you two made love. She was sweet and caring. For you, she wasn’t a poison ivy, she was a daisy.

You couldn’t tell anyone. She was still a fugitive of the law, and if Batman knew where to find her, he would come and take her away. You vowed to not let anyone take Pamela from you. You knew she was plotting something big, an attack to a Gotham-based oil company, she talked about it with you, but you didn’t care. You were sure her targets deserved what was coming.

Love is wonderful. It give you a reason to live, but nothing good lasts forever.

* * *

It was almost August. Ivy struck during the day. You heard it from a co-worker before opening Twitter to double check if it was true. It was. All over your feed pictures of a building covered in vines were being posted and retweeted. Fifty dead. Ten on their way to the hospital. No one knew where Poison Ivy was. But you knew where she would be. You went with your day as usual, and when the clocked ticked 6 p.m., you closed the gates of the garden and you ran to her. 

“We need to get out of Gotham”, you tell her, before she can even say ‘hi’.

“I know,” she says, her voice unusually flat. You couldn't read her, she was expression-less.

“I just need to go home and pack, I can meet you here in a hour.”

“Camila…”, she begins, shaking her head. You can see tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “I can’t ask you to come with me.”

You hold both of her hands into yours, “Why not? I want to.” 

“It’s not fair. You have a future”, she pulls away from you and turns her back to you. She isn’t strong enough to say this looking into your eyes. “This is just a summer fling, don’t throw your life away because of it.”

Before you can answer a shadow cuts through the tree line and your lover is pushed to the ground. “Pamela!”, you scream, jumping to help her back to her feet.

Then you it. Standing in the shadows, a man dressed in black, his dark cape fluttering in the wind. Batman. You stand between him and Pamela.

“You won’t hurt her”, you tell him, surprisingly calm. Behind him, you see the trees moving under Ivy’s command.

“Camila, go, now. Please, my love”, she begs, lips in your ear. You don’t move a inch.

Batman is fast and cuts the vines before they can get a hold of him. You barely register what happens next. They move quickly, like a dance. She throws plants at him, he gets free. He tries to catch her, she twists away form his hold. They have done this before. There’s nothing you can do, you are not a fighter. And even though you want to protect Ivy, you know she can take care of herself. 

You hear the sirens from the police coming closer. Then they stop. And main gate is slammed open. Heavy footsteps approach. 

“Poison Ivy, put your hands in the air and surrender”, a mechanical voice announces. “We will use lethal force.”

She doesn’t even flinch. She knows the cops are nothing, that Batman is the real problem. But you think different. Especially when you see the moonlight reflecting on the metal of a gun.

“PAMELA!”, you scream again, full of panic. She looks at you, puzzled at why you are so afraid. She doesn’t notice the trigger being pulled, but you do. You jump in front of her and the projectile hits you on the chest, just below the heart. 

It pierces your skin, tearing your muscles apart. It hurts. It burns. Her eyes widen. Even Batman stops and shouts something you can’t hear. You can’t hear anything. You feel the blood running from the wound. Pamela tries to press the bullet hole to avoid blood loss, but it’s too late, you know it.

“Pammy,”, you whisper. You sight is blurred. You can’t breathe correctly. “I love you. You will love you to the rest of my life.”

Her warm tears falls on your skin. That’s the last thing you feel before darkness takes hold of you.

[televisedbirdwatching]

Episode 1: Parks as Public Health Infrastructure

Portland’s parks are one of my favorite things about the city. When I first moved here, I would take myself of drives just to go check out new parks; I’d walk around by myself and make mental notes, excited to share these spaces with other people in the future. 

During the Covid-19 Pandemic, those parks have become even more valuable. I remember in April, my first trip out of the house post-lockdown was to go for a walk at Pier Park in St. Johns. I remember in July, I hung out with some friends in Laurelhurst park, decompressing and enjoying the 9 PM sunset. I remember in August, hanging out with my mom and my sister in the Peninsula Park Rose Garden. These parks have always been there, but I think the pandemic has helped a lot of people appreciate their parks in new ways. 

Portland’s Mt. Tabor Park.

Portland owes many of its great parks to the Olmstead Brother’s plan. In the early 1900’s, the city commissioned the Olmstead Brothers, sons of famed landscape architect and designer of New York City’s Central Park, Frederick Law Olmstead, to design a system of parks for the growing city. Peninsula Park, Sellwood Park, Laurelhurst Park, Mount Tabor Park and Forest Park were all sited and designed in reference to the Olmstead plan.

An Illustration from the Olmstead Plan, which can be found in the book “Legacy of the Olmsted Brothers in Portland” by William Hawkins. 

When Olmstead designed Central Park for a growing city on Manhattan island, he did so understanding that parks were a critical piece of public health infrastructure. Looking at a map of Manhattan today, it seems inconceivable that 1.3 square miles of developable land would be set aside as a park, but Olmstead’s plan found support from a New York City that was recovering from deadly Cholera epidemics in 1832 and 1849 that killed over 8,500 people- bringing the issue even closer to home, Olmstead’s first child died of Cholera in 1860.

The precursor to the germ theory of disease transmission was the “miasma” theory; people believed that disease was caused by odors and vapors from decomposing garbage and sewage. It was also widely accepted that plants and sunlight were capable of sanitizing “miasmic” or “vitious” air. Olmstead’s Central Park was designed to help prevent future epidemics by purifying the city’s air and offering city-dwellers the opportunity to restore their health.

Olmstead wrote: “Opportunity and inducement to escape at frequent intervals from the confined and vitiated air of the commercial quarter, and to supply the lungs with air screened and purified by trees and recently acted on by sunlight, together with opportunity and inducement to escape from situations requiring vigilance, wariness, and activity towards other men- if these could be supplied economically, our problem would be solved.” The emergency and gravity of the cholera epidemics gave Olmstead and city politicians the political license to carry forward big ideas like Central Park, providing a public benefit and taking steps to prevent the next pandemic (although modern science tells us that plants don’t exactly sanitize the air the way they believed). 

Hudson River School painter Asher Durand painted this portrait of his children in an upstate NY Apple Orchard in 1832; continuing the long-standing tradition of wealthy people escaping to their idyllic countryside homes when pandemics strike in urban areas. Given the year of this painting it’s not hard to connect it to the 1832 Cholera epidemic in New York- bet you didn’t think I was going to sneak art history into this one.

It’s worth remembering that Central Park is a completely manufactured landscape. Marshes were drained and streams were created completely artificially. From the Central Park Conservancy, “its only natural feature is the metamorphic rock, called Manhattan schist, that’s approximately 450 million years old.” The rest is a work of art- deliberately crafted from the natural medium.

The tie between Central Park and public health goes deeper considering that the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, across from the Guggenheim Museum, actually predates the rest of Central Park,* and was the first major attempt made to bring clean water to the growing city. Even before germ theory, public health officials could tell that there was some connection between water and cholera, and set about building an aqueduct to deliver water from the Croton Reservoir 22 miles to the north.

In an age when most New Yorkers didn’t have access to running water, the clean water that could be found in the park was another draw. An 1870 guidebook to the park encouraged visitors to ‘drink their fill’ from the ‘inexhaustible cisterns.’ Ornate drinking fountains were placed around the park, including one near The Mall that used underground blocks of ice to cool the water. 

The Bethesda Fountain, just south of The Lake, was built as a monument to the completion of the Croton Aqueduct. This statue was the first major art commission in New York City granted to a woman. Stebbins was also a lesbian and used her partner Charlotte Cushman as a model for the statue; although in 1840′s language they were just two female best friends who lived together for many years and for some reason never married men.

The huge supply of fresh, clean water suddenly available in Central Park allowed New York city planners to begin delivering running water to homes in Greenwich Village, Gramercy Park, and Chelsea, neighborhoods that were initially upper-class suburbs created for people trying to escape the overcrowded tenements in the areas around the Five Points. An 1822 yellow fever epidemic provided the first major wave of resettlement from lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village, the second was spurred by a building boom that occurred as another wave of people tried to escape the tenements for safer living conditions during the 1832 cholera epidemic. The city spread farther north to Gramercy Park in 1842 when the reservoir was complete. 

This house at 77 Beford Street is considered to be the oldest original home in Greenwich Village, depending on how you define the boundaries of the village, and depending on if you count the fact that it was significantly upgraded in 1832 as a mark against its authenticity. Rabbit hole, here.

As New Yorkers with the means to do so moved further north and closer to Central Park, the Park seems to have had a sort of “greening” influence on the rest of the city, spreading clean air and water southwards into the working class and immigrant communities in the city. In the 1860’s and 70’s, the city of New York took its first steps towards operating as a housing authority, passing laws requiring that tenements begin offering indoor, running water and at least one window to the outdoors in each unit (creating the dog-bone or dumbbell shape we know today). In an effort to bring running water and centralized sewage service further south into Manhattan, the city began tearing up the streets and installing sewer pipes. When the streets were repaved, they used materials like concrete and asphalt to allow for weekly street washing and sweeping services. City planners began including space for alleyways in their designs, so that trash didn’t have to be placed directly on the street.*

This photo by Jacob Riis from “How The Other Half Lives” was an expose on tenement living conditions. Homes were often extremely poorly ventilated, often without any kind of exterior doors or windows. Sinks were shared among many residents, and bathrooms were outdoor outhouses. 

This article from the Central Park Conservancy argues that we should think of Central Park itself as a critical piece of public health infrastructure. Olmstead’s park provided clean air and water to New York residents at a time when many didn’t have running water, a window to the outside, or a way to escape the garbage and sewage in the streets. But as time went on, the Park not only provided a place to escape to, but a place that established an ideal: that clean water and air should be brought to all parts of the city for all citizens to enjoy, not just within the 1.3 square miles of park boundary- and over time, the city housing authority made steps toward that ideal.

“All these influences have a strangely powerful force,” writes an 1870’s guidebook to Central Park, about the power of a visit to the Park. “They compel the soul. It is almost impossible to do any thing in the park but rest, breath sweet air, and enjoy.”

“Do your Part” Coronavirus warning sign at Mt. Tabor over the summer.

I’m interested to see the ways in which Portland residents are enjoying those same benefits today, in light of a global pandemic. I’m also interested to see the other ways this cycle repeats. Will we see a post-pandemic return to the suburbs as people retreat from densely-populated and “unclean” urban areas? What kinds of infrastructural changes will be made to our built environment as city planners and urban designers imagine the next public health crisis?

Liner Notes:

*RE: reservoir- kind of. There was an older, rectangular reservoir built in 1842 that was later replaced  in 1860 with a more organic shaped reservoir designed to better fit in with the nature-inspired elements of central park, and that reservoir has also been replaced by the one there today. I could have been more careful about this in writing but I think it’s safe to say that a reservoir (of some shape) occupied that spot (in general) in the park since 1842.

*RE Alleyways- Yes, they began making space for alleyways, but large sections of Manhattan were built before this need for alleys was realized, and they couldn’t exactly go back and put them there, so there are virtually no alleyways in Manhattan; most are in other boroughs.

I acknowledge that New York City has a rocky history with parks; see Jane Jacob’s description of parks as places that provide cover for youth to bully other youth; see Robert Moses’ time in New York City and the overt racism he displayed when choosing the locations of parks and sites for playground equipment. Even within the 1840s, there would have been race and class dynamics at play, too- not everyone would have had equitable access to a public health resource like Central Park. This warrants its own investigation and I felt like I didn’t have the sources nor the scope to include that here. If anyone has any sources that talk about access to parks in the 19th and early 20th century, I’d like to know!

[fuckyeahkagepro]

more... Kagepro (theories)? + it turned into a fic somehow

( CANON-BASED THEORIES COMBINED TO BECOME FIC SOMEHOW ) ( NOTE: IT GETS LENGTHY I APOLOGIZE ) Imagine: you’re Hibiya Amamiya. A “boy” from the “countryside”, who has a “weird sounding name” which means “TO ECHO”. 

You began this story simply as “that boy” “from the countryside”. During the summer break, you made up the excuse that you were going to “study for” “summer classes” “in India” so you could go into the big city with the “girl” you “liked”, Hiyori Asahina.

Name: Amamiya Hibiya: After being told that she wants to go to summer school to prepare for the middle school entrance exams, he is half-forced into staying for a summer in the city by Hiyori, who he has (unrequited) feelings for. They visit Hiyori's sister Ayaka's home, but because Hiyori falls for a boy they meet there, Konoha, he's hit by intense feelings of jealousy. In the middle of it he gets involved in a traffic accident while shopping with Hiyori and comes into contact with the Kagerou Daze. He is possessed by the snake of the "Eye Focusing" abilities, and acquires the power to perceive objects and details that are far away from an aerial (bird's eye) view. Name: Asahina Hiyori Ayaka's younger sister, and a little girl who admires the big city. She's incredibly active and also stubborn, and was the person who dragged Hibiya to the city with her. She's popular among her classmates, but not interested in such things, and even Hibiya is only considered a "convenient classmate who listens to what she says." She is dragged into the Kagerou Daze with Hibiya, but her whereabout since are unknown.

You also had one other major goal: “BUY” “A” “PHONE” You claim to “yourself” it’s because you want to “exchange messages” with Hiyori Asahina, the girl you “love”.

In reality, there’s another reason. You just didn’t know it. BECAUSE YOU FORGOT. (Or did you?)

The date is August 15th (or was it August 14th?) when you woke up upon your bed and in your phone, right there,

WAS A VIRTUAL CYBER GIRL CALLING HERSELF “ENE”

AND CLAIMING SHE WAS REAL. (NOT-VIRTUAL.)

^ Summertime Reload.

“ PLEASE HELP US ” “ YOU CAN’T FORGET ”

“ YOU’D BETTER NOT FORGET . ”

You, with phone in hand, go out into the “big city” except, this time, YOU DO IT VOLUNTARILY. YOU SCARILY KNOW YOUR WAY AROUND THIS “BIG CITY”

--- PERFECTLY.

Not because you had the excuse of “wanting to send messages” with the girl you like.

You find out: YOU’RE CAUGHT IN AN ETERNAL TIMELOOP.

Your name is Hibiya Amamiya. If you remember everything, you still die. If you forget? You still die. If you take ONE STEP out into the “big city”. You. Die.

Hiyori Asahina does, too. Repeatedly. (Weren’t you childhood friends once? Somewhere??)

No matter how many times you possibly attempt to save her.

Along the way, you meet another boy. A “white-haired boy” with a “strange-sounding name”. A “tall” boy who “does things at his own pace”. You claim to “hate” this boy because this boy

“ JUST STOOD THERE ” “ AND WATCHED ”

-- As Hiyori Asahina died.

[ Kagerou Daze / - In a Daze - ] Later on, you meet that boy, again. He tries to befriend you, but you reject it.

You don’t want his help.

You still die. Over and over and OVER and ----------

You try to ask for (or, give?) help. First, you interact more with that “girl” “with the red muffler” ( who is trying to recruit you ... ) But, that “girl with the red muffler” -----

Something changes. Suddenly, SHE’S TRYING TO KILL YOUR FRIENDS, TOO.

You decide she’s not a good person to ask. Or help. In some timelines. Possibly.

You try to (discreetly) (or maybe you genuinely don’t remember?) (“everything”?)

(^ “The Missing Children”, Kido speaking to Shintaro re: Hibiya)

( “ I don’t even know what’s going on ... ” ) --- recruit the help of someone else. An “idol” with “Captivating Eyes”. She can draw everyone’s attention towards her. It might be useful?

You become possessed. AGAIN. You push her off of the rooftop. AGAIN You killed her. AGAIN

She was YOUR         F R I E N D .

You WAKE UP, more and more desperate. The blue cyber girl can only help so much. The red muffler girl can only help so much. The Captivating idol can only help so much.

You don’t want to ask “the white haired boy”’s help.

You go to the next best option.

“Help us.”

“You’re trapped in this, too.” “Don’t you want to [   LIVE FOREVER   ]??” “Please, stop it.” “Just help us already.”

“ What’s in it for me ? ”

“Eternal life ? ” “In the end, won’t you, in actuality, LIVE ? ”

The being contemplates.

“Hmm~ you have a point.” “ If we keep the Kagerou Daze going on ETERNALLY ----- ” “You live ,” “ I live ”

“That’s right.”

“But aren’t THEY trying to stop me, too?”

“ I’ll keep them out of the way. ”

“Hehh~~ you have guts.”

“ Fine, then. Since you can’t ask my “Queen” to REPEAT THE TIME FOR YOU ,

I will . ”

Time repeats. And repeats. And repeats. And --------

A girl awakes upon her bed.

“ I failed this time, too . ”

Your name is Hibiya Amamiya.

You began this story simply as “that boy” “from the countryside”. During the summer break, you made up the excuse that you were going to “study for” “summer classes” “in India” so you could go into the big city with the “girl” you liked, Hiyori Asahina.

You also had one other major goal: “BUY” “A” “PHONE”

“ Are you anxious ? ”

--- You encounter a “white-haired boy”

--- Do you have something you want to --- CONVEY --- To this boy??

                                                   ( “ Yes ” )

[ “ I’m sorry ” ]

[ “ I didn’t mean it when I said ” ]

[ “ I hate you ” ]

YOU NEVER SAY IT.

You keep dying .

“ Today, too, I’ll surely see my dream.

Until you encounter me again, SETO. ”

- Mary Kozakura . ... ... ...

In the seemingly blue painted sky, the white clouds stuck closely together. Although it really seemed like a lie, could it be I couldn’t admit it as the real thing?

The overwhelming sunlight scorching the asphalt shook the atmosphere to and fro. But I couldn’t feel the heat, or even smell the asphalt. “You’ve realized already, haven’t you? You can’t exist here anymore. In a world without a QUEEN, you have no worth.” “Ah, you again? I wonder what makes you think that…….” Is this a conversation? Or am I talking to myself? It’s been a surprisingly long time since I’ve come to an understanding like this. Yet if I go back, I’ll forget everything, right? I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that I started to speak considerably slower than I used to. At a break in the row of hillside trees in front of an intersection, a girl with an empty expression walks unsteadily down the crosswalk. How many times have I seen this scene before? How many times have I let this scene pass before me? I reach out my hand. It’s just within reach. “It’s useless. This isn’t your world. This is already "their” world. If you can’t figure it out, you have no control.“ The signal is flashing, but the girl doesn’t notice. She’s already right before my eyes. I’m close enough to embrace her. But I can’t touch her. My outstretched hand slips through her, and I grasped the sky without feeling anything. "Why……. Tch!” At that moment, it was already drawing near with a deafening roar. Then, the scene before me dissolved into darkness, as if it were a video encountering an error. Looking down, my body ceased to exist. “It appears that it’s already been decided. This is the end. Becoming hopelessly lost, acting this recklessly, and yet you’re still existing here–don’t think that it’s due to your own strength.” “This is your power, isn’t it? To give me such a strong body; how nice of you.” “It’s the body you WISHED FOR, nothing more. Don’t misunderstand. Now, I’ve got to get going.” “Ah, wait, one last thing before I die. Could you tell the other me something?”

“What is it?” “ⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹⅹ.” “……..I can’t promise it.” “Even so, it’s fine. Thanks for everything.” This is probably the end for me. Up until my very last moments, I was so gullible. Ah, if I could have one last wish granted, it would be to tell that girl who would always hit the gullible me….. - Konoha’s State of the World (Haruka’s POV), Novel 1

“’Everyone from the Mekakushi-dan, whom had accepted Konoha, were surely going through a horrible time at the moment. Thinking that it all had been brought about by Konoha… made me helpless.’

“Really, there’s nothing more frustrating. Ever since Konoha was possessed by ‘Clearing’, I became completely unable to see the other side’s situation.””

- Summertime Reload, Haruka Kokonose speaking/thinking.

“ Obviously, there was also the boundlessly callous fact that “Konoha-kun’s body would get thrown into that world”. Still, since Konoha-kun was being possessed, “ it was    not    as   if    he were      dead ”. ”

^ Kousuke Seto’s thoughts - Kagerou Project: Summer Time Reload (Final Novel / Novel 8) - Children Record -side No.3 (2)- (translated by dennou-translations)

- Summertime Reload (fuyuyuu’s summaries / later half)

“ BLUE “ and “ RED ” are the colors of the “ KAGEROU DAZE ”, [so   Hibiya   became BLUE ] and [  Hiyori  became RED ... PINK ]

- SIDU, (ONE OF THE MCA) INTERVIEWS re: their concepts

^ old Sidu fanart for wannyanpuu’s 2011 fanmade pv (“”non-canonical””)

^ very not related (official art of Clearing Eyes’ new form in COLOR) [ pls ignore the chibi style it’s all we have rn ]

^ “Mary’s Imaginary World” mini-manga (Mary speaking)

^ HIBIYA

^ Hiyori

(red: “ ??? ”) (AYANO? AYAKI? “   AWAKENING   ”? SOMEONE ELSE ?)

(YELLOW: K O N O H A ) (alternate accordingly)

(“Friend” “her” = ???” ) ( HIYORI ??? ) ( OR..... ) [ ENE SEEMS TOO EASY AND I HIGHLY SUSPECT @ JIN ] (ALSO SEE: MANGA ROUTE 2 + “FRIENDS’) (WILL GET BACK TO THAT)

^ Kagepro novels index “ - in a daze - ” (NOVEL 1)

BONUS:

[classyfoxdestiny]

Tanker underway again after ‘potential hijacking’ near UAE ends

Tanker underway again after ‘potential hijacking’ near UAE ends

Britain has urged the United Nations to respond to “destabilising actions and lack of respect for international law” by Iran following a series of incidents involving tankers in the Persian gulf.

Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab on Wednesday morning wrote to security council president T. S. Tirumurti, amid news of a possible hijacking off the coast of the United Arab Emirates, reportedly on the ship the Asphalt Princess.

It comes after a Briton and Romanian were killed in a separate drone attack on the Mercer Street tanker off the coast of Oman, which the UK, US and Israel blame on Tehran.

As the latest incident unfolded UK chief of the defence staff General Sir Nick Carter said had Iran made a “big mistake” by allegedly targeting the tanker last week.

He told BBC Radio 4’s Today programme: “What we need to be doing, fundamentally, is calling out Iran for its very reckless behaviour.

“They made a big mistake on the attack they did against the Mercer Street vessel last week because, of course, that has very much internationalised the state of play in the Gulf.”

He added: “Ultimately, we have got to restore deterrence because it is behaviour like that which leads to escalation, and that could very easily lead to miscalculation and that would be very disastrous for all the peoples of the Gulf and the international community.”

The Royal Navy reported on Wednesday morning that boarders had left the the Panama-flagged asphalt tanker Asphalt Princess, which was believed to have been seized off the coast of the United Arab Emirates.

Three maritime security forces had told Reuters on Tuesday that the Asphalt Princess tanker had been seized by suspected Iranian-backed forces, which Iran denies.

The AIS tracking status of the tanker was “underway using engine” early on Wednesday, according to Refinitiv ship tracking data.

The United Kingdom Maritime Trade Operations, a Royal Navy agency, said what it had described on Tuesday as a potential hijack incident was now “complete” and the vessel involved was safe.

The agency gave no further details in a warning notice based on a third-party source, and did not name the vessel involved. Shipping authority Lloyd’s List and maritime intelligence firm Dryad Global had both identified the hijacked vessel as Panama-flagged asphalt tanker Asphalt Princess.

The incident took place in an area in the Arabian Sea leading to the Strait of Hormuz, the conduit for about one-fifth of the world’s sea-borne oil exports.

Satellite-tracking data for the Asphalt Princess had shown it slowly heading toward Iranian waters off the port of Jask early on Wednesday, before it stopped and changed course back toward Oman.

The Independent has contacted the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office for more information.

Tehran’s relationship with western powers has deteriorated in the years since Donald Trump pulled out of the 2015 treaty that sought to limit Iran’s nuclear ambitions. Commercial shipping around the Persian Gulf has increasingly been caught in the crosshairs.

Alicia Kearns, a Conservative MP who sits on parliament’s foreign affairs committee told The Independent of the latest incident: “Whether it was Iranian proxies or the Iranian military, the Gulf of Oman remains a treacherous stretch of water for commercial shipping companies. This will only become worse as deteriorating relations between Iran and other nations leave Iran feeling more aggrieved and warranted in escalating incidents like this, as well as limpet mine attacks.

“It’s a reasonable assumption that the armed group were Iranian proxies or Revolutionary Guard, because Iran not only has a history of maritime piracy, and then denying outright their actions, but the Asphalt Princess has been detained by Iranian forces on multiple occasions in the past, and the owners previously had another ship targeted as well.”

Abdulkhaleq Abdulla, a prominent and well-connected Emirati political analyst told The Independent that the UAE had no interest in flared tensions in the strategic waterway and would be looking for ways to de-escalate after the recent incidents. 

“This should be of concern to the international community which should step up but the UAE doesn’t want an increase in tension or hostilities – it does not want escalation at the moment,” he said. 

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“The thinking here is the UAE does not want to be dragged into any unnecessary confrontation with Iran. We do not want that to happen period. That said, everyone has a direct interest in the safety and security of this very fragile water way.”

Yoruk Isik, an Istanbul-based maritime expert and non-resident scholar at the Washington-based Middle East Institute, who has been following the Asphalt Princess said he thought it was more likely related to small-time Iranian oil smuggling than a major international incident. 

“The company that owns the Asphalt Princes – is Prime Tankers LLC (of the UAE) – it operates a fleet of middle age to older ships and most of the ships have gaps in their Automatic Identification System (AIS) tracking that makes us suspicious that they are hiding small time smuggling, perhaps Iranian.” 

“We don’t know for sure but they are a prime suspect in Iranian oil smuggling – it is the second time their ships have been involved in something like this. As you can see from the MT Riah incident in 2019” – a refernec to the seizure of Panama-flagged tanker whose 12-man Indian crew were detained by the Iranian coastguard in 2019. 

“The ownership is for sure Prime Tankers LLC – this is the second time they have been involved in an incident . This company has no linkage to Israel whatsoever.”

He said that although the alleged hijacking incident was taking place at the same time as a series of attacks on tankers and soaring tensions between Iran, the US and Israel this was likely “an exception”. 

Isik said it was likely tied to “rogue elements of Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps not necessarily operating on behalf of Iran” that were trying to settle a commercial dispute.  

“Maybe someone didn’t get paid and so they boarded the ship,” he said, adding that he was certain the ship was Iranian only because at the beginning of the incident it changed course towards Iran, which he said would not be possible if it was private or pirate operation. 

Additional reporting by agencies

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[ecotone99]

[SF] Gone Songs - Track Eight - Heavy Metal Motion Picture Soundtrack

Shane had it figured. Even though the writing on the panel was in an alien script and the controls were not meant for human hands - Shane felt confident enough to take the risk.

What choice did he have? Liz couldn't make another circuit. Even now he felt her body wilting against his. He risked a quick glance and saw the skin on her face had blanched to a fish-belly white, her eyes half closed, and her mouth a thin, gaped line. Without him there for support, she'd have collapsed to the bottom of the shuttle a long time ago.

No choice. No choice at all. He had to try.

By Shane's estimation, they were once again passing through the Earth's mantle, fast approaching the outer crust. Even protected behind the mysterious, whisper thin shield of the shuttle, trans-versing the Earth's core was brutal. Yes, they were protected from the atomic heat and, somehow, the shield also dimmed the otherwise crippling light from the molten plasma, but the tracks in that area were sadistically wild: corkscrew after corkscrew, uncountable dive loops, hammerhead turns to give you whiplash; even traveling at what had to be a significant fraction of the speed of light, this part of the ride seemed to last an eternity.

Shane recognized their position - they were about to transverse the launch mechanism that would propel them from inside the earth out into the atmosphere.

He wrapped an arm around Liz. This was by far the most difficult part of all.

They passed over the drive tire and Shane felt the speed increase in his stomach. Next thing; they were out of the crust, zipping over the planet's surface on a more-or-less straight length of track.

Below, earth. Or what had become of it: all the cities destroyed, oceans of fire, no trees or fields or green of any kind. A dead planet. Look closely and see the bodies of people and animals clustered together in areas of disaster.

Liz buried her face in Shane's chest. She couldn't take another circuit.

They passed over a pneumatic launch mechanism that would shoot them up a top hat track that ascended well beyond the limits of earth's atmosphere. Shane steadied his hands over the control panel and focused on the track ahead. They weren't the only passengers on this ride - he'd seen other shuttles, and had watched them perform the same maneuver he was about to attempt.

Of course, those other shuttles had been inhabited by aliens - whooping and hollering; waving their claw-like hands with excitement as they enjoyed the thrill. Their faces even more monstrous for the gleeful smiles across their toothy mouths.

Shane set his jaw. The apex was near. With precision timing, he hit a panel with his right elbow and used his left hand to yank a lever down.

\pop**

The shuttle broke free from the tracks. Carried by momentum, the craft floated away into space; tumbling and twirling.

No longer being propelled at impossible speeds along an insane alien roller coaster gave Shane an overwhelming feeling of relief. He grabbed Liz tight and kissed her passionately. Too stunned to react at first, Liz was slow to respond, but when she did - with an open mouth and her hand coming to rest on the back of his head - Shane knew everything would be alright.

After a while, he let her go and returned focus to the control panel.

Oh yeah. He could figure this out. A few taps, a few tugs, and the shuttle righted itself. He found the controls for propulsion and steering, gave them a quick test, then settled back in his seat.

He smiled at Liz. She snuggled up close. Through the translucent shield they saw an infinity of stars waiting for them.

Shane pushed a button and they went looking for Virgil, and then to find a new home.

EARLIER THAT DAY

"Your dad's off drunk somewhere," Virgil said.

"Yeah," Shane agreed. "Probably."

"So, what?" Virgil asked, getting annoyed. "Walk home?"

Home being a 45 minute car ride - God knows how long a walk - from where they stood: the pick-up area in the parking lot of an amusement park called Worlds of Fun. It was almost midnight. The park had been closed for over an hour. All the other kids they'd been waiting with were long gone by now.

"Give him a few more minutes," Shane said. "He'll show." Shane's dad was a notorious drunk, true, but he was a genial alcoholic. Soon he'd place his watery eyes on a clock and remember something about doing something for somebody.... Oh! Pick up Shane and his friend from the park! Right! Then, after one more for the road, he'd show up. He always did eventually.

Virgil grunted and walked over to the Coke can he'd been kicking around all night. He kicked it some more.

The mercury vapor lights of the parking lot started flickering off section by section.

"Perfect," Virgil said when the lights over their heads went dark. He kicked the can one last time, hard, launching it into the black void of asphalt.

"He'll show," Shane said again. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, right," Virgil grumbled. He sat down on a wheel stop.

Shane gave him space. Virgil could be a real prick when he got upset and Shane didn't want to have this day ruined because, up until his dad failed to show, it had been an excellent excursion. Well planned and expertly executed. Indeed, it had been early June when they'd first decided to visit the park, but Shane realized this was too important an event to rush into. You didn't want to go when the park was overcrowded, so weekends and holidays were out. Also, you needed to get there right when the gates open to avoid the hour long lines for the big rides, so early morning transportation must be arraigned. Finally, money. You had to save enough to last a full day; that's lunch and dinner with drinks in between. Mid-August, then, it was determined, would be perfect. On a Tuesday or Wednesday. About a week before school starts. The park shouldn't be too full then as Summer vacations would be winding down, they'd have time to beg and bargain for a ride, and they'd have a couple months' worth of allowance and other monies saved for the occasion.

Until finally the planning paid off. They arrived at the park very early, before the crowds, and got to ride the main coasters - The Orient Express and Screamroller - with minimal wait-time. Twice. Then, having gotten those out of the way, they were able to relax and enjoy some of the parks more gentle diversions. In particular, bird-dogging the summertime girls wearing shorts and tank tops; sometimes even bikinis on those who'd wandered over from Oceans of Fun. Sky Heig and The Barnstormer were perfect for getting a bird's eye view at some of the finest cleavage in Kansas City.

By mid-afternoon they'd hit a slump and decided to recharge at the Incred-O-Dome. Virgil actually fell asleep beneath the towering screen. Then they strolled down Cyclone Sadies Saloon, wasted time and money at the arcade, before realizing that they had better ride the River City Rampage soon to give the sun a chance to dry out their clothes.

Bad news - the River City wait was almost an hour. Good news! They got in line next to two cute girls who liked to flirt. Or, at least one was flitting. With Virgil. But that was to be expected as Virgil was undeniably tall, blond and handsome. Shane, on the other hand, was on the short side, a tad chubby, with the swarthiness of Eastern Europe somewhere in his blood; nevertheless, the other girl - less cute than her friend, but still decent - engaged Shane in respectable conversation while their friends bandied about clumsy innuendos.

Shane learned a lot about the girl during their time waiting in line together. Her name was Liz. She enjoyed Biology and had plans to become a doctor. Her family lived in Shawnee Mission (rich!). She wore glasses with thick, red frames and had a single, strong ponytail of auburn hair down her back. Her shirt had a collar and a little lizard over the pocket and her shorts were beige with lots of pockets. Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled and that was absolutely adorable.

Eventually, all four of them got on a boat together, sitting boy/girl/boy/girl. It was mostly a lame ride - lots of floating and bumping into well placed logs - until the end when the rubber-lined float shot through a series of rapids then plummeted down a waterfall with a tremendous splash.

And everybody got screaming wet.

That's when Shane learned the most important thing about Liz: Yes, she wore a bra. No, it didn't make much difference under her cooling, wet shirt.

They stayed together as a group for a few more rides and Shane had been encouraged by how close Liz sat next to him. She even grabbed hold of him once during the ultra-lame Octopus ride, laughing as the centrifugal force of the spinning cab almost put her on his lap.

Eh. Maybe the Octopus wasn't so lame after all.

Eventually, however, the girls had to go meet up with their families for diner. Before separating, Liz had borrowed a pen from one of the vendors and scribbled her phone number on a napkin for Shane.

He took that same paper from his pocket now and, in the dark of the night, ran his thumbs over the surface, enjoying the texture, imagining he could decipher the ink by touch. Though he'd already committed the numbers to memory, Shane wanted to check them again, and also study the handwriting, so he held the napkin up to the see it by the light of the half-moon.

Wait.... What is that?

There. Standing at the apex of the tracks of the Orient Express roller coaster - Shane saw the figure of a man silhouetted against the moon. Except.... not a man. It was inhumanly tall and had more arms than you would normally see on anybody who was not the Indian god of transformation.

It was too dark and too far away for Shane to make out details, but it looked as if the creature was sabotaging the coaster. Its many arms played over the rails and Shane could hear the faint screech of metal being bent.

What the hell...?

"Virg," Shane said, talking no louder than a whisper. "Virgil. Come here. Quick."

"Whaaa-aaaat!" Virgil exploded off the wheel stop, still pissed. "What do you want? Why are you whispering?"

"Shhhhush!" Shane grabbed his friend and pointed toward the Orient Express. "Look up there."

"I don't see... Whoa. What the hell?"

Suddenly, as if it felt the weight of extra eyes watching, the creature stopped what it was doing and stood up straight, facing the boys.

They continued to stare at the thing. Back-lit by the moon, they couldn't make out any features, but whatever it was was easily ten feet tall. And, not including the two long, thin legs, they made out at least four other appendages that looked like arms.

"Holy shit," Virgil whispered.

The creature moved. There was a whirlwind of motion. When it became still again, it held something with two of its hands. Something that looked like a gun. Pointed right at the boys.

Virgil shuffled a half step then, in a flash, he was gone. Nothing left but the impression of a lightning-bolt behind Shane's eyes and the smell of ozone.

"Virgil!" Shane cried. He looked towards the top of the roller coaster, saw a line of smiling teeth in the inky black shadow of a face where the creature's mouth would be, then felt a blast of heat.

And the parking lot was empty save for two thin wisps of smoke floating in the air.

***

"...Shane... Oh man, Shane.... Come on, man."

Shane Muncie heard Virgil's voice, felt a hand pushing his shoulder and slowly blinked his eyes open.

"Goddamn.... Man.... I thought you were dead."

Virgil's face filled Shane's waking vision. As life came into focus, Shane saw and felt that he was flat on his back, Virgil kneeling beside him, and behind Virgil's was the starlit sky contained in a noisy, crowded room.

Wait.... The sky? In a room? And noisy, yes, lots of voices; but none of it made sense. It was all gibberish. Maybe he was suffering a concussion or something

"Shane. We need your help," Virgil continued. "Come on, man, get up."

But no. Not a concussion because he understood Virgil's words well enough. Holy shit, what if it was one of those weird brain traumas where he could only hear and understand one person for the rest of his life. And that one person was Virgil fucking Templeton! Holy shit!

Shane sat up and looked around. He was in a room, kindof, but it floated in space and the boundaries were not walls, floor and ceiling; but a sort of a bubble made from translucent film. Beyond the film? Only space and stars.

And the gibberish? Well that was easy. Shane didn't recognize it as words because it came from a dizzying variety of alien life forms. Multitudes of beasts covered with hair; monsters covered by scales: some party robotic; a few all metallic - grunting, beeping and whirring to each other as they stood in their respective groups, just killing time.

It was like the waiting room for all the rejects from the Star Wars Cantina scene.

"Oh thank God," Shane sank back down, lying on his back.

"Shane!" Virgil tugged him up by his collar. "This isn't a dream. We're in serious trouble here."

"Yeah, no, I know," Shane said. "But it's better than brain trauma. A weird brain trauma."

Virgil raised his hand to slap Shane's face; paused to think about it, then, yes, slapped his friend a few times - front hand, back hand, repeat.

"What the hell!" Shane grabbed Virgil's wrist.

"You're delirious." Virgil replied.

"Like fuck I am." Shane came to his feet. "Besides, physical violence isn't the cure-all for mental distress."

"Yeah, you and Scooby Doo can debate that later. Right now we need your big brain to think up a way out of this mess."

"We?" Shane asked. Virgil stepped aside and presented the girl from River City. Liz stood there, wide-eyed and terrified.

"Hi," she said with a timid wave.

"Oh hey!" Shane replied. "Didn't see you there. ... How are you?"

"Scared," she said, hugging herself. "Yeah. Really, really scared."

Shane went to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It's okay," he said. "It'll be okay."

"From your lips," Virgil said. "But you'd better come up with something more than words toot sweet."

Shane reconsidered the environment and situation. Yes, they were in some alien holding-pen surrounded by inhuman nightmares, but none of the monsters seemed overly threatening, they could still breathe and talk, and the knuckles of his hand were resting on Liz's breast and she didn't seem to mind. Things could be worse.

"What happened?" Shane asked Virgil.

"You tell me. We were in the parking-lot, looking at that thing on the roller coaster, now we're here."

Shane turned to the girl. "Liz?"

"About the same," she answered. "One of the park's golf-carts accidentally bumped me. I said I was okay, but they insisted on checking me out so they took me their offices. I was waiting there so long; I grew impatient and walked off. I got lost and wandered into a room where these... these... things were working on some sort of model. They looked at me and.... I woke up here. With you guys."

"Hmmm," Shane rubbed his chin and scanned the room again. Within their groups, the aliens seemed quite happy, chatting with one another and goofing off. While he watched, a multicolored burst of light fell upon a clan of crab-like monsters which instantly burst into raucous cheers, waving their claws in the air. A path cleared for them and they scuttled to a series of shuttles, exactly like a roller coaster train, entering the cars two by two. A whistle blew, a chain clacked, and the train shot out of the bubble on a metal track heading into the void of space.

"Well?" Virgil demanded. "You read a lot of science fiction bullshit. What's going on?"

"I.... I'm not sure," Shane hedged.

Just then they heard a woman's voice, loud and clear, ringing over the din of alien sounds. It said, "Oh. My. GOSH!"

They turned towards the sound. Five stunningly beautiful and totally naked woman were walking right towards them. The women were perfect - breasts, hair, face, hips and neatly trimmed triangles of pubes all in place. Only.... Their skin was various shades of red; from light pink to brick-house, and their hair - all their hair - was jet black.

"LOOK at that!" The one in the lead said, pointing a long and dramatic finger at Virgil. "TELL me he isn't the spitting image of Reggie!"

In a flash, the five women had Virgil surrounded. They ran their hands over his body, surreptitiously taking off his shirt and jeans as they explored; tousling his hair and giggling all the while.

Then five pairs of hands working as one grabbed the elastic band of Virgil's underwear and tugged. Before they could pull the FOTLs all the way down, he swatted their hands away and snatched his tighty-whities back to where they more or less covered his pride.

"Ho!" Virgil cried. "Ho-ooOOoo-ld on a second! Ladies, please!"

The women retreated, shocked by Virgil's response. The one who'd spoken earlier, the one whose body was the color of fire, cocked her hip, flipped her luscious mane of blue-black hair and said, "Well. I NEVER! Come on, girls."

They turned to leave.

"Wait!" Shane reached out to stop one of the female aliens. She twist just enough so that Shane's hand found itself cupping a perfect globe of boob.

"Oh my," the alien giggled, pressing herself firmly into Shane's hand. "Maybe this one is more like Reggie."

"Gack!" Shane tried to retreat, but the alien faced him down. When he tried to ward her off, she took his other hand and clamped it to her remaining exposed breast. Shane felt the nipples harden and saw her chest and collar flush with a splotchy, deep-purple rash. Her sisters joined around, talking all at once.

"He certainly has the moves."

"But he's so short!"

"And ugly."

"Almost cute ugly."

"Almost, not quite."

"Look! He's blushing!"

"That helps."

"Oh my!" This from the one who had closed in on Shane. "Yesssss," she flashed her wide, emerald green eyes at Shane, then she gently ran a finger down his cheek and stepped away, breaking contact. "Yes, indeed."

By now, Virgil had his pants and shirt on was steady enough to attempt a rescue. "Excuse me!" he interrupted, breaking through the circle of flesh to join his friend. "But we would like an explanation or something. Right, Shane? We've got questions, don't we? Shane?"

"Eeep," Shane squeaked, and then tried to correct his voice by clearing his throat. "eee-Yes. Yes. Questions. We have."

"Wait a sec.," the alien who first approached them said. "Look at these two.... They're not Boons. They're not even from Hosst!"

"Oh my!" One of them finally noticed Liz standing off to the side. "What about this?"

They surrounded Liz and starting an inspection - lifting her arms, turning her around. One of them undid her ponytail and fluffed out her hair. All the while talking among themselves.

"Too, too short."

"Rather formless."

"I don't even know what to say about the color."

"Pitiful."

"The face?"

"Ug."

"This hair... is so... so...."

"Maybe it's warm?"

"Hmmm."

Liz made a noise and her eyes started to water.

Shane pulled one of the aliens away, rather roughly, and blocked the rest of them from Liz. "Hey!" he shouted. "Back off!"

"Oh!" the fire-skinned one exclaimed, startled by the outburst. "Oh dear, no. No, these are not Hosst at all. Too ugly. Too.... rude."

"Yeah. Well," Shane puffed out his chest and raised his chin. "At least we're modest."

The alien women exchanged curious glances. One of them shrugged, her breasts bouncing recklessly. Modest?

"Okay, wait, we've got off on the wrong foot here," Virgil said. "Look, we are not Hosst. Or Boon. We don't know what any of that is. In fact, we don't know what any of this is," he swept his arm around to include the entire assemblage of creatures.

"Whatever," the fire-skinned alien replied. "We don't have to put up with this rudeness. Come on, girls."

Before they could leave, Shane blurted out, "We're earthlings!"

The aliens considered this for a moment, and then started laughing. "Oh, how silly of us! This is the Earth ride, and you're earthlings! Isn't that adorable?"

"Oh, do get a picture!" one of them said, rushing to pose with Shane, Virgil and Liz.

Another of the aliens stepped back a few paces and produced a camera. "Wait," Shane asked. "Where did you get that?" Then a flashbulb popped and he had to rub his eyes.

Then they all wanted pictures; individually, and as a group. Some wanted funny poses. Shane drew the line at recreating his tit-holding scene, but Virgil allowed himself to be persuaded.

This went on for a long while, and Shane tried to ask questions during the process, but never received any response clearer from the alien women than, "Oh my gosh!"

Then a light from above flashed on the group. The aliens squealed with delight. "Our turn!" they exclaimed. "Finally."

A path cleared through the alien throng and the naked women started walking, waving "'bye!"

"Wait!" Virgil kept pace. "Where are you going?"

"It's our turn, silly. Hey! Come with!"

"Oh my, yes. You have to. You'll be our own Earthling tour guide."

"You can't say no."

"That's right! Your job is to make us happy."

"And since you look like Reggie, we're already happy!"

This last comment induced howls of laughter.

Once again, they surrounded Virgil and he had no choice but to continue walking with them as they made their way through the crowd and wound up at a shuttle connected to a set of rails that looked just like the starting point of a roller coaster.

By now, of course, they had once again stripped Virgil down to his underwear and were playing their hands over his skin as they helped him into the shuttle.

"I hope this ride is worth it," the fire-skinned one said, wrapping her arms around Virgil as the shuttle's translucent shield started to close. "A 45 minute wait for a ride that'll only last two and a half light years. Sheesh."

A dizzy Virgil scanned the crowd; saw Shane and Liz standing at the edge of the platform.

"Shane!" he called, holding out a hand.

"Virgil!" Shane replied, reaching for his friend.

An alarm sounded. A gangly alien with multiple arms walked the platform, making sure it was clear. The alien gently, but firmly, pushed Shane back behind a yellow line.

There was a clacking sound and the shuttle started to move. Shane looked down the track and saw that it stretched out into space, running towards a familiar looking globe - one that used to have an atmosphere and blue water before it had been moved from its orbit onto a massive set of rails.

It was now a dead ball spouting fire from its core, collecting kinetic energy, posed at the top of the rails, waiting to begin its ride.

The last thing Shane saw in the shuttle before it shot out into space was a pair of blindingly white Fruit-of-the-Looms smacking against the rear of the translucent shield.

End

Back in the days of cassette tapes, you couldn't just hit "next" to skip a song. You had to fast forward, which ate time. Precious time that would otherwise be spent rocking out while driving around aimlessly. Therefore, the Heavy Metal Soundtrack cassette had one terrible flaw: the second track, side B, Open Arms by Journey. Don't get me wrong, I love me some Journey, but that's not the right song for an otherwise rocking compilation (true, Blue Lamp was similarly lame, however, as that was the last song on the cassette, it was easier to just hit eject and move on than bother with fast forward).

My friend and I had a solution; it wasn't perfect, but it got us through. Whenever Open Arms came on, we goofed the lyrics. Goofed them most pornographically, singing as loud as possible to drown out the erstwhile Steve Perry. Obviously we referred to the song as Open Legs and by the end we wouldn't even bother with rhyme or structure, we'd just spew enough filth to make Andrew Dice Clay run for church.

I confess, I still do that when I hear Open Arms. But only in my head. My poor, sick head.

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[landcruising]

Asunción, Paraguay’s, hadn’t impressed us on our first visit. Maybe it was because it had been the region’s coldest winter in 80 years and the city looked quite depressing. After we’d run our errands — namely, replacing car batteries that had caught fire — we quickly drove on to Argentina.

A year later, we were back in Asunción with more car issues. With its dodgy tax system, Paraguay is not only the ultimate place to go shopping for electronics — especially in Ciudad del Este — but also car tires. This time it was sunny, warm, and nice to be outside. The city emanated pleasant, relaxed vibes. It felt good to be there, and our expected quick border crossing for car parts turned into a seven-week stay.

This episode taught us it’s important to give a place a second chance. Paraguay may not have the headlining attractions of its neighbors, but the country’s historical and cultural aspects deserve a visit in their own right. And of course, among our best memories of Paraguay are the open and welcoming encounters we had with the Paraguayan, Guaraní, and Mennonite citizens.

1. Admiring Murals in Asunción

For the last couple years, Asunción has organized international competitions for mural art (encuentros internacionales de muralismo), which has resulted in an outdoor museum of murals throughout the center of the city, varying from traditional, rural scenes to expressions of modern art. Look for them in the park next to the Presidential Palace and on Plaza de Derecho Humanos.

2. Stumbling on a festival, Asunción

If you happen to be in Paraguay during the second half of August, you may run into a big Bolivian celebration. Asunción has a large Bolivian community—in Bolivia they celebrate a three-day Urkupiña Festival, while the Paraguayan version lasts only one, but in terms of festivities, processions, and celebrations, it’s just as exuberant.

3. Catching the sunset (or sunrise) at the Jesuit Missions

In the 17th century, Jesuits built reducciones in Paraguay, south Brazil, and north Argentina. Their goal was to convert Guaraní indigenous people to Catholicism while protecting them from Brazilian slave hunters. The Jesuits stimulated all forms of artistic talent, and as a result a new form of art evolved that was a mixture of traditional Guaraní symbols and designs and traditional colonial baroque

The best-preserved ruins and UNESCO World Heritage Sites are the missions of Jesús de Tavarangue and Trinidad de Paraná. They date from 1685 and 1706, respectively, and have the largest churches of all Jesuit missions, along with remnants of the reducciones. Late afternoon or early morning are the best times to visit, when the soft light gives the ruins an air of mystery.

4. Driving the Trans Chaco Highway

The Trans Chaco Highway is among the least reliable roads in South America. When we drove it, it had just been paved and you could roller skate on it. In truth, though, the road had not so much been paved as painted over with a thin layer of asphalt. As a result, it quickly deteriorated again into one of South America’s worst roads, with deep potholes where cars and buses can get stuck for days during the rainy season.

So if you’re in for some adventure: Take the bus from Asunción to Bolivia over this 450-mile road without an itinerary. You’ll pass through the harsh territory of the Chaco, as well as its Mennonite colonies.

5. Visiting a flourishing Mennonite colony in the Chaco

Throughout the centuries, the Chaco has been inhabited by indigenous tribes, few of which have survived colonization. In the beginning of the 20th century, swathes of land were given to the Mennonites, a religious order from Europe, who have turned part of the Chaco into fertile agricultural fields and cattle ranches.

The best-known Mennonite colony in Paraguay is Filadelfia, which has basic facilities such as hotels. It’s a good base from which to visit surrounding towns or to explore the Chaco wilderness, and to get an idea of the Mennonites’ thriving dairy economy.

6. Learning about the Amish-like lives of the Mennonites

  All Mennonites may have the same origin, but their branches are about as diverse as within Protestantism, varying from moderate to very conservative. As you travel in the Chaco, you’ll come across the horse and buggy, as some Mennonites are not allowed to travel in cars or buses. Their dress and culture are comparable to those of the Amish in the United States.

It’s not a matter of course that you can stay in one of their villages, but if you can score an introduction, it’s well worth a visit. We have beautiful memories of staying with a family for a day or two.

7. Touring Itaipú Dam, the world’s largest hydroelectric power plant

Near the Brazilian border lies Ciudad del Este, not so much a tourist attraction as a shopping destination for Brazilians and Argentinians (and other foreigners) who flock here in large numbers to shop for tax-free electronics and other gadgets. Nearby lies the Itaipú Dam, where you can visit a museum and join a bus tour.

It will show you the pros and cons of this overwhelming project, and you’ll be bombarded with comparisons—for example, how the volume of iron and steel used to build the structure would be enough to create 380 Eiffel Towers or five Hoover Dams. The scale is pretty mind-boggling.

8. Guaraní art in Franciscan churches

Paraguay’s first colonial settlements were established during the early 16th century. Well known are the Jesuits, who inhabited the southern part of Paraguay until they were expelled in 1767. Less known are the Franciscan orders that settled around Asunción. Their heritage is visible in whitewashed churches with richly painted interiors—the Baroque- and Rococo-styled altars, altarpieces, pulpits, and confessionals are masterpieces of art, the likes of which we have not seen elsewhere in South America.

Among the best-maintained or restored Franciscan churches are those in Yaguarón and Atyrá. If you find a church closed—which is likely—ask around for the caretaker. You’ll generally find somebody willing to open the door for you.

9. Enjoying the slow pace of life outside the city

In the countryside, you’ll often travel along unpaved, red dusty roads where horses and carts are common means of transport. In some remote villages such as Valenzuela, it feels as if you’ve time traveled back to the 19th or 18th century. Small wooden houses, cobbled streets, and oxen and carts with huge wheels dominate the scene.

Time appears to have come to a standstill here with men sitting on benches under trees, drinking tereré and watching life go by. This is not the place to be in a hurry but to enjoy the tranquility of country life.

10. Volunteering at a children’s home

If you’re into volunteer work and love kids, this may be of interest to you. Hogar de los Niños Cristo is home to 200 children varying in age from newborns to 18. It’s an incredibly disciplined home run by Patricia who, after she had her own children, started adopting street children. Over time her work grew into this remarkable project.

You can do good by simply being there. There’s always a child who needs to be hugged, talked to, or played with. Note that girls’ and boys’ quarters are strictly separated and that volunteer couples have to stay in separate quarters as well and share rooms with the kids.

11. Drinking tereré with locals in Asunción

Downtown vendors sell tereré, an infusion of yerba mate with fresh herbs such as lemongrass or mint and drunk from a guampa (cattle horn). Sometimes people use orange juice or mango juice instead of water. Tereré is the perfect drink for the generally hot climate (avg. 95 degrees F) that characterizes the city.

12. Learning about Paraguay’s culture and history

The capital has a number of good museums. Museo del Barro focuses on indigenous lifestyles and pre-Columbian art. Museo Guido Boggiani (in nearby San Lorenzo) is dedicated to Guido Boggiani, the first to take a serious interest in the indigenous communities of the Chaco (19th century). Museo Etnográfico Dr. Andrés Barbero displays among other things religious artifacts and an impressive collection of funeral urns.

13. The open-air museum of Friesland

A Mennonite colony near Asunción, Friesland is located on a side road off Ruta 3. The entire town has a manicured, Stepford-esque air to it. You can visit their museum, partly open-air, with somebody from the village explaining the Mennonites’ history and their hard, impressive struggle to make a living here.

14. Relaxing at Ypacaraí Lake, San Bernardino

The attractive town of San Bernardino, with shaded cobbled streets, was only a tiny hamlet when the German traveler Guillermo Weiler arrived in 1888. He saw its potential, constructed two hotels and a harbor, and initiated regular steamboat crossings of the lake. Under his supervision a hippodrome was built, and he subsequently organized the first horse races in San Bernardino.

Each year, Paraguayans flock to their ‘summer capital’ of San Bernardino, where the sparkling blue lake of Ypacaraí brings relief from the heat. It’s a nice place to get away from the city, to breathe in some fresh air and go for walks along the waterfront. The town is also a good base to visit nearby indigenous communities, where you can buy handicrafts or participate in workshops where artisans teach their crafts. If you have some money to spend, the iconic Hotel del Lago would be a good place to spend the night.

This article was first published on Matador Network.

Don’t skip Paraguay on Your South America trip. Here is Why. Asunción, Paraguay's, hadn’t impressed us on our first visit. Maybe it was because it had been the region’s coldest winter in 80 years and the city looked quite depressing.