#we were playing street-rules so everyone else had like 20 cards in their hands and he was about to win

[grantairezee]

I used to play cards a lot when i was in college and the best game of uno I ever played was that exact scenario, except that we laid literally every +2 in the deck on this poor sucker and he had to draw like 16 cards, and he saw it coming and was laughing too hard to be mad, even though we blew his massive lead.

[imthatchishiyasimp]

HELLOOOOO!!!

I'm freaking out this is my first post, like the first one shot I post and write about AIB and Chishiya.

I really hope you all like it, please please please tell me what you think about it and whatever you want to tell me.

It's long (4444 words), I know, but I hate small things because I get upset. It's very close to the story and it doesn't have lot's of changes, I wanted to try first to write about something I know. In the future I will write more original and new stuff. Also, I wanted to get used to the universe and to the characters first.

HAVE A NICE READ 💚

“THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA”

The sign flashes all around the city. I slowly walk towards the Toei Sendagaya block apartment, focused on the cube in my hands. Due to having no electricity, I’ve gotten used to pick random things from stores to entertain myself.

It’s still shocking to feel the city so silent and calm, and at the same time it feels terrifying. One would think that being that people die every day, the streets would be forgiving. You can’t even lower your guard now. Even since the first day, I’ve liked walking around the streets, checking out shops and random apartments. I kinda feel powerful, but it’s something that deep inside I know it’s just fake and limited. And I’m not giving up, but at least I’m going to enjoy now that I can, until ‘they’ decide that I’m not needed around anymore.

The tall complex shines between the bushes and buildings, its lights on every floor lighted on. I place myself a few meters hidden behind the stairs leading to the central lobby. From there, I sit and watch people climb the stairs. A couple of them look pretty scared and lost, showing signs of this being their first game. The rest all look shaken up but used to this. When it looks like no one else will come, I get up and get to the crowd around the phones.

There’s thirteen people waiting and all of them look at me while I pick the phone from the table. When the facial recognition is finished I can see that there’s only a few seconds left for the game to start. Almost didn’t make it. Would have been stupid to die because I was daydreaming.

‘Move aside’ I say to Chishiya, elbowing him after not having a response. He looks at me annoyed and slips off his earphones. He finally moves to let me place my back at the wall and get my hair in a bun.

“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 14 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

It’s so easy to point out who the newcomers are and the ones that are sick of playing. You can also name who’s going to be willing to put themselves first and who’s going to scary run the whole game.

I start rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt up when a boy with a cap starts talking to some guys. They look lost, but not new to this. Might be the first week here. I eye them from my spot, not saying a thing but listening to the whole exchange.

“Excuse me, do you know what this is?” He asks a black haired boy. Honestly, he looks a mess, like he has just gotten up from bed and hasn't changed in a few days. “I ended up here and I have no idea what’s going on”.

“It’s a game” He answers. At the same time, the blonde man next to him, probably his friend, tells him to stop it. I chuckle and cover it up with a cough, earning myself a glare from both Chishiya and Aguni. I might be prone to get in trouble with people and they won’t be happy if I screw a game up. Better be quiet.

The blonde guy whispers to his friend and I try to pick something up from the conversation. Not get close to the new ones and something else.

“DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES”

The card flashes on our phones, telling us the kind of game and the level of difficulty. I was so curious about the card when I got to my first game, I didn’t know what it meant and what I was supposed to do with it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I admire the cleverness behind the rules and the method of the games. It’s the work of both a psycho and a genius.

A sporty girl starts to stretch just after the card shows, so she must know what it means. She’s calm and collected and I bet she’s willing to put all of us on the killing zone before she goes down. We could be friends, I think.

I hear a sigh next to me and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya rolling his eyes. He doesn’t exactly hate physical games, but they sometimes mean having to run or climb and he’s not a fan of working out. And, even though he won’t admit it, he doesn’t like having his white hoodie dirty. Not going to judge, I don’t love spades games either, but I will choose them over the hearts ones a million times.

I get down to tie my shoes tighter just in case. I would hate tripping like the clown I really am in front of all these people. Some guy in a hat starts explaining to the two friends from before what it means a spades game. Club games are hard if there are more newcomers than experienced people. I mean, if it's a game where team work means everything, you bet you prefer working with someone who knows the way around the games. Diamond ones are a bit weird: being clever will get you through them, but sometimes the answer is so straightforward that you get lost looking for the catch. Heart games are the worst. They will kill you even if you survive, and pray that you don’t get to play with a friend or someone you know.

“GAME: A GAME OF TAG.”

“RULE: RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.”

“CLEAR CONDITION: DISCOVER THE SAFEZONE HIDDEN IN ONE OF THE BUILDING ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN THIS OBJECTIVE IS FULFILLED.”

“TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.”

“AFTER 20 MINUTES HAS PASSED, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.”

I turn around to face Chishiya, grinning like a mad girl. He doesn’t even flinch when he stops me from talking. “No, I’m not racing you to the top.”

“But…” I sigh and watch as everyone starts running to the stairs like lost puppies. “You are so mean”. I punch him in the shoulder and cross my arms, walking towards the lift. No need running seven floors up and wasting energy if I’m not even going to be able to brag about having won a race.

Chishiya follows closely behind, probably guessing I’m going to try and leave him there.

“TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE GAME STARTS.”

We get inside the lift and silently wait until we get to the seventh floor. It’s been a long time since I used one, not everyday you get to play in a building apartment. Feels nice, and like we’re back to normal.

Once we get to the top, we both choose a position that lets us have a good look at the whole complex. He goes to one wing while I leave for the other one. No point leaving a flank unseen. I take my cube out and restart it, keeping an eye on the people looking around scattered through the floors. I don’t get why someone would choose saying in the lower ground when a tagger is supposed to chase you through the whole building. Dude, that’s the most critical place to start.

“Hey, don’t get distracted with those games of yours.”

“Don’t be mean, Chishiya. You know I’m paying attention.” Anyway, once I finish the cube, I keep it in my pocket and rest my arms on the banister.

Aguni and his new friend get to the seventh floor and both of us wave towards him. Like always, he completely ignores us and keeps walking towards another high point.

“That’s nasty” Chishiya says and I nod along. Aguni is always so serious during games, it’s boring.

“I place my bet on those two guys and the sporty girl surviving”. I firmly say. They look like they will make it, but not without having a rough time.

He has the audacity to snort and laugh at me and I look at him surprised. “You’re joking. Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual. Just look at them, they don’t know shit about what to do”.

“Were you this calm in your first games? Don’t be mean, they are trying their best. No one wants to die.”

“But, where you that stupid?” He says while pointing to a couple of girls on the second floor who are touching their phones desperately. “I’m not saying you gotta be a genius from the start, but if you don’t collect yourself quickly, you are already dead.”

“Well, my majesty, not all of us are like you, and some people need a little more time, and a little more help.”

Chishiya looks at me and, as if I had imagined, a caring and sorry look crosses his eyes. He probably remembers the first time he saw me get through the games and how I completely lost it once. It wasn’t easy.

“THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”

He nudges my arm with his elbow and I look at him.

“THE TIME LIMIT IS 20 MINUTES.”

“Hey” He says with a soft voice.

“GAME START.”

“Don’t die this time.”

“Wasn't planning to.”

“THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.”

As if we all had planned it, the whole complex goes silent, trying to locate this said tagger. A trumpet goes off and everyone looks scared, ready to bolt to wherever they can.

The sound of the lift’s doors can be heard from our position, so the tagger is probably on the sixth or fifth floor.

Not a penny drop can be heard. Not a breath.

Some people start walking and try to open doors. The rest are all watching closely until something happens.

And it does.

Gunshots run through the dense air that surrounds us. I try to see where they come from and I finally catch sight of the tagger. Probably a man, judging for the height, with a horse head and a really mean gun. He’s on the sixth floor, just in front of the stairs.

I point at him and nudge Chishiya, but I already know that he has seen him.

There’s now thirteen of us.

And then shots are fired again and we can see the two friends and the one with the hat running down the stairs, away from the tagger.

“Told you, they are gonna get killed.” Chishiya says with a smirk.

“Oh shut up, this is not a TV show we are talking about. And I have faith in them”.

They split up on the third floor, the hat man keeps going down while the other two try to hide in the hallway. Not long after, on the ground floor that the tagger chases and shots the first one and finds another man freaking out. I don’t know if it’s better that he died because he went off the game zone instead of being shot by the tagger. Anyway, he’s also dead. And that makes three dead players.

Eleven participants left.

“See, they are smart. At least the cute one”. I say smiling.

Chishiya looks at me and raises an eyebrow, silently questioning just what I said.

“What? It’s not like I’m lying; he is cute, and smart.” I laugh and wink at him, cutting eye contact with him. If we are going to have an awkward moment, please don’t be while we are playing for our lives.

The killing spree of the tagger continues with the pretty and lost two girls. They sure are on their first game, because they look so freaking scared and unprepared. I mean, who would have come with heels and handbags. I scoff and shake my head watching how one of them falls dead and the other one wastes an incredible opportunity of getting away while the tagger reloads. Well, not all of us are strong enough to leave our friend and not panic at the same time. Shame she has to die, anyway.

So now we are nine players still alive.

Looks like everything’s gone silent again, until shouts break the silence and we all look for the source. It’s the cute guy and I laugh when I understand what he’s saying.

“Everyone! The tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let’s inform each other of the tagger’s location and search for the safezone together!”

“Oh my god, did he seriously turn a spades game into a club’s one?” I laugh again and Chishiya scoffs under his hood. “I want to be best friends with him”.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chishiya says. We move a bit to see where they are going now that they are all running. “It’s a good idea, not going to lie, but no one will answer him.”

He mutters something else, but I don’t really catch it. I think I saw the tagger doubt his step when he heard the guy shouting, but he definitely looks annoyed when the sporty girl shouts back.

“The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!”

I celebrate and raise my hands, clapping and laughing in Chishiya’s face. He looks surprised and tells me to shut it.

The girl runs from the tagger and finds an elderly woman in the hallway. With the tagger on their back, they are probably going to get killed. I grip the banister and hold my breath. She seems friendly and clever, I’m internally rooting for her.

Suddenly she jumps off the balcony and starts climbing the pipes up to the next floor. The other woman dies behind her, and the tagger tries to catch the girl but fails.

“She’s pretty good.” Chishiya mutters. “You just wish you could do that. It’s called envy”.

“As if you could do that too. You are just as weak as me.”

“Hey! Don’t throw me in the same casket!”

“EIGHT MINUTES UNTIL THE GAME ENDS.”

“THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT SURVIVORS.”

Already? We should start moving.

I look at Chishiya under my hair and he frowns at something. I follow his gaze and see the tagger looking at the cap boy from an upside floor. What’s shocking it’s him starting to shoot from there. He has been killing just people he casually finds while walking around, not shooting from that distance.

The boy goes down, but looks unharmed. The two friends are on the same floor and get to him, running away from the door he was trying to open.

Not bothering to ask Chishiya if he got that, I start jumping on the place and keep my phone in my pockets. He slides off the hood and shoves me towards the stairs.

“Shall we, ma’am?”

“THERE ARE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.”

From the corner of my eye I catch Aguni intercepting the boys and I make a face. It doesn’t always go well when he does that, he tends to let them die in order to have his way. The sporty girl stops to talk to them and she starts jumping from floor to floor.

“Do you think someone’s going to get it too?” I ask out loud. Chishiya shrugs and keeps on walking. I tsk and stay behind him when we get to the hallway. I turn around and watch my back, even though I heard a fight somewhere near. Probably Aguni, who are we kidding.

Just when we are arriving at the safezone apartment, the cute boy appears from the other side.

“Cute boy! I’m glad you realized it!” I happily say without thinking. I mouth a silent sorry when he looks at me a bit perplexed. Chishiya elbows me, hard, and I whine a bit. That’s mean.

He picks the doorknob first, but doesn’t open it. The three of us are watching closely, and honestly I’m a bit nervous about the time. I don’t like risking it as much as Chishiya.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks.

The boy answers a couple of seconds after, lost in his thoughts “Why did the tagger chase us? He could have just waited here.”

He is onto something. Now, I’m not liking this at all.

“Seems like there’s something else we don’t know.” Chishiya says, keeping his calm exterior. He’s going to use this poor boy in case he has any doubt of a risk. “However,” he adds, taking his phone out “if you don’t open it…”

There are three minutes left.

Sweat starts running down my back, making me shiver and hold my breath while I watch the boy start turning the doorknob. All our phones beep announcing the time left until we all die with the bomb.

Slowly, he opens the door with caution. We all walk inside, in silence and with darkness surrounding us. It 's empty. No furniture, neither personal objects nor some leftovers of someone’s life. A few steps in we notice a door at the end of the room and we all walk towards it.

It’s not until we are too far inside that another tagger walks out behind the door.

“Look out!” the boy screams and pushes us out of the shot range.

Gunshots fly around the apartment and I duck behind the bathroom door. Chishiya uses the taser and the tagger goes down, but recovers quickly and starts shooting again. I scream when a bullet gazes at my arm. It fucking hurts, but at least the bullet didn’t got me completely.

I can hear the apartment door being shut and the other door at the end closing too. They must have gotten through them. I hope they aren’t harmed.

I wait, trying not to make any sound in case the tagger comes to finish me off. I search through the room, but nothing seems lethal enough to use like a weapon. I hate bringing weapons to games, I don’t really want to kill anyone if I can help it.

Gunshots are fired and I cover myself up, even though they are not directed towards me. Fighting blade weapons? I’m okay with that. Fighting people? Not against it. But, I have nothing towards a gun. I mean, it can take me from a long distance! No point.

“Everyone! The safezone is in apartment 406! It’s impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!”

Are you kidding? This is so mean. What if you were the only survivor? Not fair, not at all.

Well, it seems like I should get moving and try to do something useful in this game. I haven’t done shit, now that I think about it.

Slowly, I open the door just in time to see the tagger shoot the door and break the safelock. I take small steps following it, ready to throw myself to placate it. Just when the gun is going up I jump and kick the tagger in the knee, managing to bring it to the floor.

I hear a scream coming from the tagger and a lady cursing from behind the mask. She starts shooting and I scream trying to cover myself without being hit. The guy bolts and tries to help me get her off the gun, but she keeps fighting like a mad person.

We both go down before she gets us with the bullets and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya at the door, trying to help but having to cover himself because of the lost shots.

The phones all inform us of the ten seconds remaining at the same time that the sporty girl jumps through the glass of the balcony. The tagger kicks me and gets the gun pointing at my face and I panic just a bit before I push back. The other guy tries to help me, but with no help.

“Hey!” Chishiya shouts.

I’m on the floor fighting the tagger with the gun under my chin, trying to get it off my face, but I see him throwing the taser to the girl and she quickly gets the tagger down.

I let out a sigh before I heard the time almost coming to an end. My eyes search for him and we lock our gazes. I can feel the breath we are both holding and the silent words running through our minds. My fingers clench and I swallow, accepting death like a forgotten friend, saying goodbye with a blink.

But, just like that, with a blink, it all finishes. The buttons are pressed on the last second and we all hear the beeps from our phones.

“GAME CLEAR.”

“CONGRATULATIONS.”

In that same moment, the tagger gets the mask off and we can see an old lady crying looking at us. The collar in her neck starts beeping faster and faster and I scramble to get away from her. Chishiya grabs both my arms and I scream at the touch in the bullet gaze from before, but he doesn’t let go and gets me away at the same time that the collar explodes, killing the lady.

My whole back is covered in blood and I roughly grab Chishiya’s hoodie. I don’t want to look at her and see what we did, even though it was unintended. She was also playing, and she died because we won.

Chishiya and I are left in the room with the dead tagger, and he grips my hand and makes me let go of him. He starts checking the pockets of the lady and gets something out, but I don’t register exactly what.

I get out of the apartment to breathe. I hate this part where we really think about what went down here. Lots of people died, and we got a few days to live just to have to risk it again in the next game. Could have we saved someone? Not really, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier anyway.

“I’m Arisu.” Someone says beside me. I turn and the cute boy is there, watching me from a distance. “I wanted to thank you, for risking yourself back there. We are alive thanks to all of you.” He sticks out his hand to me and waits.

I’m speechless. No one has thanked me like this in any game. I didn’t really do a thing, but he’s thanking me. I should be the one doing it, he cooperated with the other girl and they stopped the bomb. We could have died there.

I let out a small laugh and shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisu. And thanks to you, you did the dirty work inside the room.”

I look back inside and watch Chishiya stick the paper in his hoodie and walk towards us.

“I look forward to meeting you somewhere else, hopefully not dead in a game. Be careful and enjoy the warm water in the ocean now that we are all alone in the city.”

With a wink, I walk out of the apartment building with Chishiya not too far behind. I think he heard me talking to Arisu, but he doesn’t comment on it.

We walk, and we walk, and we walk. Neither of us likes to go back to the Beach in the cars, so we always take a stroll through the streets, enjoying the silence and the stars shining above us.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

“Mmh?” I look at him questioning and he nods to my bleeding arm. “Oh, yes, like a bitch. But I’ll have to wait until we get there.”

He tsks and grabs my arm, leading us to a pharmacy around the corner. I don’t say anything, knowing he will shut me up and will only be a waste of time. We get inside and he starts looking for some disinfectant and bandages.

He knows his stuff. I was surprised at first to discover he knows his way around the medical grounds; and I’m glad he does. It doesn't hurt having someone nearby capable of dealing with nasty wounds.

He silently works and I watch him closely. He’s handsome. And he knows it, that’s why he smirks feeling my gaze on his face. I trace his features taking my time. His eyes are the most scary thing I’ve ever met. They hold so much knowledge and feelings. I always feel like he could take me apart just with his eyes. He mostly covers his emotions, so even though you search for micro expressions, you will come empty handed almost always.

I bring my free hand up and run my fingers through his hair. I love it, it’s so smooth and soft. And the fact that he always wears white to match his hair makes me smile like an idiot.

Chishiya clears his throat and starts covering up the wound. My hand drops and rests in his arm, basking in the heat he’s making.

Once he’s done, he brings down my sleeves and looks me in the eye, silently checking if I’m okay. I nod and take his hand, quickly gripping and, just as fast, letting go. I can hear him sigh behind me, and he follows behind.

“You know, I’m glad I met you here, but I would have prefered meeting you in the real world.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I will be safer here with you, but I also know the probability of us having a happy ending is minimal while we are here.”

“You are not wrong.” A couple of minutes goes by until he adds: “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try and make the most of it while you are alive. It will hurt more, but at this point, who cares?”

I let out a breathy laugh and turn around to hug him. Hard. He stops and lets me hug him, finally giving in and hugging me back. I hide my face in his neck, breathing deep and closing my eyes. I can feel his pulse and his chin coming down on my head, his hand running through my back.

“You are an idiot.”

“And you are mean. Deal with it.”

I swear I can feel his lips kissing the top of my head, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure. He starts walking again and I run to catch him before I lose him.

We may have a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. We are there for each other, not sure of what to do, what to give, what to take. But we do not give up. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and thankful that I have someone looking out for me.

I smile all the way to the Beach.

[showmeahero-a]

     starter sentences drawn from taylor swift’s 7th studio                                                 album, lover ( 2019 )

adjust as needed to fit your muse.

how many days did i spend thinking ‘bout how you did me wrong?

i forgot that you existed

i thought that it would kill me, but it didn’t

it isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference

i would’ve stuck around for ya, would’ve fought the whole town

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

it’s a cruel summer

no rules in breakable heaven

we’ll just screw it up in these trying times

said ‘i’m fine,’ but it wasn’t true

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

for whatever it’s worth, i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

we could leave the christmas lights up ‘til january ; this is our place, we make the rules

there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

have i known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

can i go where you go?

can we always be this close, forever & ever?

you’re my lover

i’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

i’ve loved you [number] summers now, honey, but i want ‘em all

my heart’s been borrowed & yours has been blue, all’s well that ends well to end up with you

when everyone believes ya, what’s that like?

i’m so sick of running as fast as i can, wondering if i’d get there quicker if i was a man

i’m so sick of them coming at me again

if i was a man, i’d be the man

what’s it like to brag about raking in dollars, & getting bitches & models?

if i was out flashing my dollars, i’d be a bitch, not a baller

i’m ready for combat

i say i don’t want that, but what if i do?

i’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches i almost said to you

help me hold on to you

i’ve been the archer, i’ve been the prey ; who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay?

i cut off my nose just to spite my face, then hate my reflection for years & years

i wake in the night, i pace like a ghost, the room is on fire, invisible smoke

all of my heroes die all alone

they see right through me

all the king’s horses, all the king’s men, couldn’t put me together again, ‘cause all of my enemies started out friends

no one understands

i want you

i ain’t gotta tell him, i think he knows

when we get all alone, i’ll make myself at home & he’ll want me to stay

he’d better lock it down or i won’t stick around, ‘cause good ones never wait

so where we gonna go?

you know i adore you, i’m crazier for you than i was at 16

i counted days, i counted miles to see you there

it’s you & me, that’s my whole world

she’s a bad, bad girl

the whole school is rolling fake dice

you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

voted most likely to run away with you

you are the only one who seems to care

i’m feeling helpless

boys will be boys, then where are the wise men?

darling, i’m scared

i don’t want you to go, i don’t really wanna fight

i think you should come home

this is a fight that someday we’re gonna win

i wake up in the night & watch you breathe

kiss me once ‘cause you know i had a long night, kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright, three times ‘cause i waited my whole life

i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings

you’re the one i want

i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this

without all the exes, fights, & flaws, we wouldn’t be standing here so tall

i want to drive away with you

wrap your arms around me

i rent a place on [street name]

we were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

i hope i never lose you, hope it never ends ; i’d never walk [street name] again

that’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

baby, i get mystified by how this city screams your name

i’m so terrified of if you ever walk away

back when we were card sharks, playing games, i thought you were leading me on

saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

i get drunk, but it’s not enough ‘cause the morning comes & you’re not my baby

i look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up

i can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

i ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright, they say, ‘i don’t know’

what once was ours is no one’s now

you said it was a great love, one for the ages, but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages?

tryna find a part of me that you didn’t touch

gave up on me like i was a bad drug, now i’m searching for signs in a haunted club

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand, paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

gave you so much but it wasn’t enough

it’ll be alright, it’s just a thousand cuts

they say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives

darling, i fancy you

i guess all the rumors are true

don’t threaten me with a good time

just wanna be with you

i didn’t tell you i was scared

desperate people find faith, so now i pray to jesus, too

soon you’ll get better, ‘cause you have to

i know delusion when i see it in the mirror

i just pretend it isn’t real

i hate to make this all about me, but who am i supposed to talk to?

what am i supposed to do if there’s no you?

we were crazy to think that this could work

remember how i said i’d die for you?

we were stupid to jump in the ocean separating us

i can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like i’m not your favorite town ; i’m new york city

they all warned us about times like this

they say the road gets hard & you get lost when you’re led by blind faith, but we might just get away with it

religion’s in your lips

even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship this love

i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me

hell is when i fight with you, but we can patch it up good

damn, it’s 7 am

hey, are you okay?

i ain’t tryna mess with your self-expression, but i learned a lesson that stressin’ & obsessin’ ‘bout somebody else is no fun

you need to calm down

can you just not step on my gown?

you just need to take several seats, & then try to restore the peace & control your urges to scream about all the people you hate

shade never made anybody less gay

we all know now, we all got crowns

i blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue, put you in jail for something you didn’t do

fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

why’d i have to break what i love so much?

it’s all me, in my head, i’m the one who burned us down

it’s not what i meant

sorry that i hurt you

i don’t wanna lose this with you

meet me in the afterglow

i lived like an island, punished you with silence, went off like sirens, just crying

tell me that you’re still mine

tell me that we’ll be just fine

tell me that it’s not my fault

tell me that i’m all you want

i promise that you’ll never find another like me

i know that i’m a handful, baby, i know i never think before i jump

there’s a lot of cool chicks out there

baby doll, when it comes to a lover, i promise that you’ll never find another like me

i’m the only one of me ; baby, that’s the fun of me

you’re the only one of you ; baby, that’s the fun of you

i promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me

i know i tend to make it about me, i know you never get just what you see, but i will never bore you, baby

there’s a lot of lame guys out there

i never wanna see you walk away

there ain’t no ‘i’ in team, but you know there is a ‘me’

you can’t spell ‘awesome’ without ‘me’

wanna hang out?

it’s nice to have a friend

something gave you the nerve to touch my hand

my love was as cruel as the cities i lived in

there are so many lines that i’ve crossed unforgiven

i’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

i don’t wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

i don’t wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you

i’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, & now i see daylight

luck of the draw only draws the unlucky, & so i became the butt of the joke

i wounded the good & i trusted the wicked ; clearing the air, i breathed in the smoke

i once believed love would be black & white, but it’s golden

i once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden like daylight

you gotta step into the daylight & let it go

i wanna be defined by the things i love, not the things that i hate, or the things i’m afraid of, or the things that haunt me in the middle of the night

you are what you love

[waterturnsback]

At the risk of being overly earnest...

All of this blog post will go after the jump because no one should read it, and I’ll probably delete it later.

Today is July 20, and without fail, it is the hottest day of the year. Dark Sky says it is 93 degrees but feels like 98 degrees. MyRadar says it is 92 degrees and feels like 96 degrees. The default iPhone weather app says it is 93 degrees and feels like 99 degrees. It is 7:25 p.m. It is awful.

Every summer, this stretch of days is the most oppressive of the year. The preheating of our sidewalks and streets is over, and it is time to bake. The humidity rolls in to make it a sauna. It is awful. It helps me remember everything.

There are too many events tied to this week. From July 17 through July 24, give or take a few days on either end, I can lay out formative events since 2008. Timehop and Facebook Memories have jarred my brain over the past few days and reminded me of what I miss, what I savor and what has shaped me to this point.

In 2008, Anna and I went to Whartscape in Baltimore on July 20. I took the above photo of Sam Herring of Future Islands there. I used to pinpoint this day as my shift into truly being “cool,” which is a concept that doesn’t quite age well. But we saw Future Islands, Dan Deacon, a Girl Talk side project, Adventure, Parts & Labor, Double Dagger, Ponytail and so many more. There were a bunch of weirdos in a parking lot in Baltimore. I was 16, and I hadn’t been around that before. It was something I wanted to be a part of in the future. It ruled. I am bummed I did not write about this day on the 10-year anniversary two years ago and that it came up quickly this year. Maybe for the 13th anniversary? It was a hot day. Black Dice’s set to close the night got canceled when a storm blew through, and Anna and I got lost in Baltimore in the storm.

Two days earlier, Anna and I went to Artscape to see The Oranges Band, one of the criminally underrated Baltimore bands of the 2000s. Anna was super into them in the early/mid-2000s, and I think they just weren’t weird enough to carve out the longevity and brain space of some of the Whartscape acts. It was fun. It was hot.

One day earlier, Scooter + Jinx played its last show (I don’t think we played again after that?) at the Shamrock Park bandshell. It was acoustic with me, Anna and Benn, and we covered Wilco (three times!), The White Stripes, Silversun Pickups, The Thermals, Cold War Kids, Pixies and I really can’t bear to watch any more of the videos to figure out what else we played. It was a lot. Earlier, I played guitar for Ashley, who sang, and we played some originals and covered Ted Leo. That was the night where Kate and I said we “liked” each other. It was a big deal at the time.

In 2009, there was another outdoor concert at the bandshell the same weekend. I performed alone as Wapinitia, and then Benn accompanied me on a drum for a “Death Valley ‘69″ cover and a Polar Bear Club cover. I played a ton of originals that I know longer remember how to play, though I find the set list for that night when I was cleaning out my room last week and packed it away in a box.

A couple people spent that summer trying to set me up with Elisabeth, and I had been listening to them, despite a couple disastrous encounters a month earlier. The Rita’s/Wendy’s setup will live in infamy. But I tried, and then I realized that I just didn’t care. So I hung out with Kyle and we talked to whole time. I was disillusioned that summer, but I was 17, so it makes sense.

In 2010, I do not really remember what I was doing. The IronBirds were on the road that weekend, so I was not working. I know I went back to Shamrock Park at night and just kind of walked around because I was sad and lonely (lol). My high school graduation party, which doubled as Anna’s college graduation party and my parents’ 25th wedding anniversary part, was in a couple days, so we were cleaning.

In 2011, I went to New York for the weekend. On July 22, Anna and I sat at the Williamsburg Waterfront and watched Death From Above 1979 perform from a distance. It was a hot night. The next day, Molly P. met up with us, and we went to the Prospect Park Zoo before seeing The Feelies, Real Estate and Times New Viking. We saw Real Estate in May and Anna was at the 285 Kent show in June where the band played its new album front to back, so we were seeing the evolution of the Days songs in the live environment. It was a great show, and I think I tried to drink some coconut water and immediately spit it out. Otherwise, Anna kept getting us wine.

From Prospect Park, we went to Shea Stadium and caught Andrew Cedermark’s set to close a bill that had also featured Dustin Wong. It was $7 per person to get in, or something like that, but Anna hustled Patrick Stickles at the door to let the three of us in for $7 because there was only one band left. We were drinking out on the Shea Stadium balcony, and Molly P. told me that she wished she hadn’t agreed to go see ODDSAC with me instead of going to senior prom the week before. I can’t argue with that. I texted Molly M. that I liked her.

Jeffery and Kia were at 285 Kent, so we went down to the water from Shea and wound up seeing Pictureplane at some insane hour of the night. It was so hot in 285. My phone said it was 88 degrees outside or something along those lines, and I got a chill when I walked out of 285. Someone was handing out watermelon, and it was hot. I don’t know how I survived that day. The mass shooting in Norway also happened that weekend.

The next day, Molly M. and I talked about the night before, and I said, “It’s real.” We wandered Williamsburg that day before going to Hoboken to see Real Estate and Dent May at Maxwell’s.

In 2012, Grandpa and Grandma died during the week, so I was a mess (though I did see Shut Up And Play The Hits in theaters, and it was good). I was going to New York anyway July 20, but I called out of my internship and got on an earlier bus. Anna picked me up from the MegaBus and we just kind of wandered Manhattan. The Aurora mass shooting happened the night before, too. I don’t remember where we got dinner, other than we got Mexican. We went out to Ridgewood Queens and then got ready. Molly M. was home in San Diego that weekend, so I didn’t have to walk on eggshells at Emily’s apartment on Havermeyer. Diana was in a fun mood, along with Becky, and Anastassia, Molly K. and Marc B. were also there (and more probably met up with us?). We pregamed pretty hard, and there are a bunch of hilarious photos that are now gone from Facebook because Becky deactivated last week. We went to the Woods and then some random house party in Williamsburg. There are a bunch of goofy pictures of me and Emily in the backyard, and Emily fell asleep on a bike(?).

The next day, Anna and I met up with Dent May at Grand Ferry Park and interviewed him for about 20 minutes. It was a perfect interview, and he tapped into a lot of what me and Anna were feeling psychically without knowing what we were going through. It was a beautiful night, and it was just really cool to talk to him. He was playing Glasslands, and since I was 20, I couldn’t go, so me and Anna met up with Anastassia and went to House of Vans to see Dum Dum Girls and Widowspeak. Anna and Anastassia stood inside the alcohol area, while I stood on the other side of the fence to talk to them. The sets were good, and then Anna and I went back to 285 to see Iceage. It was nuts. There were real punks there, and the indie kids weren’t ready for it.

On Sunday, July 22, Anna and I went down to DUMBO with Anastassia, and we walked the Brooklyn Bridge. It was cool. I still do not understand the logic of riding your bike across the bridge if you are a serious biker, but the views were great and it wasn’t too hot. We wandered Manhattan a little bit and then took the ferry back. It was one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen, and it was a satisfying end to the weekend during an awful time. Emily and Diana met up with us at American Apparel. Everyone agreed it was one of the most fun weekends of the summer, and it happened while Molly M. was away. Hm.

On Monday, we went to see Beach House in Central Park. Marc P. got the ticket that was supposed to be for Molly M. It rained. Lower Dens opened. It was beautiful. Anastassia watched from outside the fence, and we all went back to Brooklyn together. I was taking the bus home the next afternoon, so Anastassia and I met up in Williamsburg in the morning and went to Co-Op 87. I bought her a Widowspeak 7″, and we went over to Manhattan and I got pho for the first time in my life. It remains one of my favorite weekends under the worst circumstances.

In 2013, it was again one of the hottest days of the year. Me, Dan and Rob drove to Annapolis on July 19, and it was miserable. We tried to walk around. I did a phone interview with someone on the street. We got ice cream, and then we went back to College Park. On July 20, I went to Baltimore and met up with Seth and Ryan at an Irish bar on the Inner Harbor where we were going to meet Colleen for her birthday, but her flight got screwed up, so me, Seth and Ryan just watched the pirate boat in the harbor and the lightning.

In 2014, I was alone in California, so I drove out to Pomona to go to the Viva Pomona festival. I saw Thee Oh Sees, Fuzz and Terry Malts. I bought Worry by Big Troubles on vinyl from a record store out there. It was cool. I think that was the same weekend I watched an entire season of House of Cards, went to The Geffen Contemporary to see the Mike Kelley exhibit and then met up with Jack in Echo Park.

In 2015, I came home from covering a girls youth soccer tournament in Richmond and went to see No Age at the H&H Building on the hottest day of the year. They were good. No one was really there. A couple days later, I got my first real job at The Sun.

In 2016, I hadn’t taken my job at PennLive yet, but it was getting close. On July 23, we went to an Orioles game with a pretty deep crew, and it turned into a long day. It was so hot and so humid. It was raining, but there were no clouds over us. Jack said it was like the sky was crying.

In 2017, we spent a night in D.C. We were trying to use Brad & Mike’s pool because it was so hot, but then it thunderstormed.

In 2018, we were on our way to Western Maryland for a weekend at Deep Creek Lake. I got pulled over for speeding leaving Cumberland, but I got let off with a warning because I pulled over right when the guy waved me down. It was a good weekend. I think that was really the first time I started drinking a lot of White Claw. We got taquitos for the lake house, and it was the best food decision we made that weekend. Later, that weekend, I thought I lost my phone. I didn’t.

In 2019, we were in Denver. It was fine.

In 2020, I am sitting in my apartment waiting for a mattress to be delivered so I can throw out my old one and my futon frame in the trash tonight and then set up my room. I am so close to getting there.

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Join me for Coffee sometimes.

I am sitting at a Mexican restaurant called 'Mexicali's' today for a change and in favor of my friend who decided to take a rare chance to do something different. It's not everyday we decided to do something different, mostly my 'older' friend, due to the fact that we loved the peaceful moments of not dealing with the criminals and the mafias at the moment.

I am a bit embarrassed on the establishment with the clean, colorful settings and I'm just in my normal wear. It's not 'first class fancy,' but it's a really nice restaurant to go out. The owners were a Latino family that immigrated years back, worked REALLY hard to get the place and they proudly officially opened for business!

Of course, there was an issue with the process of buying the property. It's not the seller, the building or even the price. But it was the other 'buyer' who wanted to have the location to opened up another Italian restaurant.

I have NOTHING against Italian food, I do like them and knew quite a few so Kitty can take a break once or twice a night. I'm not sexist. It's just there's already five in Chicago already and I wanted to have something different other than pastas and pizzas! Back to this story, their competitors were not happy with them moving in with their food cultures and other stuff that I found really unfair and SO UNCALLED for! Just to say the least...

It wasn't long that the police, which my team was still part of, got a tip and some accusations of them depicted as 'criminals' and then some just so that it would be harder for them and easier for their 'rivals' to acquire it smoothly. I think it was a bit of a misunderstandings while most think it's 'legitimate' and I wasn't the only one. Sam thinks it's too and he also recognized the other 'buyer's' name!

He's only known in public image as an owner of all the Italian Restaurants but like Bendy behind that mask, he's also a Mafia boss that's in alliance with the Alfonso's! He told me that they're on neutral terms, but they're on thin ice with their relations lately...

So long story short, I did my investigations, uncovered what's real, what's not, uncovered the other mafia's secrets and then once we've hit the court room stage, it's final verdict was now in the press.

Italian Mob boss Arrested! Mexican family not guilty!

I had to admit that we almost lost at the end until that last detail that the 'witness' had slipped had caught mine and then Sam's attention.

It was tiring that almost all of our defense cases were close calls, but until Sheba is back with her full confidence, Sam is playing both hand decks and it's gotta be really hard in my point of view. Even if both of them are pretty good, it's almost hard to look at every evidence, rules, laws, and so on. It feels like I'm just doing the 'easy' portion of the trials...

Unless you're not in good shape and fighting against an Olympic Lunatic that runs the Underworld of Chicago.

I then noticed a child's voice at another table with what I assumed a mother with her son. They were having their little quality time together with her holding the menu card and her assumed son drawing something that looks like a dinosaur. She smiled and she patted his head as to say 'good job.'

I smiled sadly at that. It reminded me of my sister if she was still alive today. She would be a great mother like she was to me when I was growing up at that age. I never knew my mother and my father was barely at home but he raised us properly. It's frustrating that she would never had the chance to play with the twins, praised their abilities and watch them grow up...

But now I had to take over for her and for my father too. I knew that my uncles and the relatives insisted that they can do it, I still declined and wanted them to be raised here because of the whole new continents and the cultures they're not used to where they're at.

Despite the hardships, I finally did do a decent job so far, with some bumps but I think we're good for now. They even trusted me more than ever...

Speaking of trust... I then remembered my friend who had yet to show up. I then got a word from the waitress that they had a phone call from him saying that he will be a few minutes late. I nodded and said I can still wait.

I then look out the window to daydream a bit to kill time... I noticed a bust from a shop across the street that reminded that first case that I worked as an official detective, two years ago...

---Time travelling on a rainbow, Nyan Cat!----

It was supposed to be here, right? I thought as I examined the attached, block buildings from the sidewalk. They all said that this was an 'average' neighborhood, but this is like for the 'well-do' class like a doctor or a lawyer. I needed to find my lawyer for three reasons.

One: He helped me narrow down the six busts of Anubis in a 'vandalized' bizarre case and uncovered the missing Pharaoh’s Pearl that got stolen from a museum.

Two: I was saved from Bendy and Boris when I found out that this was one of their quick money schemes by a tall, dark mysterious black suited and mask man, They were taken down by his throw downs and my quick thinking with Bendy when he almost got him.

Three: he dropped his wallet without noticing when he disappeared... and I found out just who he was.

Which leads me to the next three things: I want answers!

I then head someone disputing a few houses down the streets and I saw the man I was looking for, smirking and walking with his Border Collie dog. I think that beautiful canine might be potentially deadly when she saw me and then ran at me with it's sharp teeth.

Border Collies are known for being territorial and very loyal to it's owner asides it's history of being an ideal 'sheep dog.'

I stood very still with my hand sticking out to halt him or her, I don't know it's gender yet, just to show I'm not here to pick a fight or murdering anyone.

But then to my surprise, he/she then started to slow down and got less aggressive as he/she sniffed my hand. Then like any other 'vicious' guard dogs that I've encountered, he/she licked it and was friendly again. It was an odd thing that I'm a 'cat' person yet for some odd reason, dogs liked me.

“That's a first, she never done THAT before. Most people would be running from aggressive, territorial dogs and Tiara wouldn't be this friendly to first time strangers at our home.” My expected 'suspect' said with a confused look once he caught up.

So the dog's a girl and she's very pretty. Kinda what you expect when someone's probably have a much bigger income than I currently have. “Hi, I'm the guy that was from that coffee shop a few-”

“Yeah, you're that new kid detective that came for the sales record papers. Did you need anything else?” He asked as he and his dog walked up to their home. I needed to have my answers from that night, but I needed to be careful because the way he took out both of them, it's insane! Boris has super muscles, Bendy has demon speed but this guy, despite his tall and lean look, is not to be underestimated! I think it's one of those Eastern boxing techniques and something with wind elements...

But none the less, I still want to know. I took out his wallet. “I found this and I believed that's yours. Everything is still in there.” He swiped is so quickly and that's when I knew I found my smoking gun.

“Thanks for returning it and not going on a shopping spree. Tell your parents they did a good job raising ya!” He was about to close his door shut until I instinctively had to say something, grab it quick and force it opened. Only ended up him whacked his forehead on the top door's frame, said something like 'tavern nackle' and then falls flat on the pavement. His dog barked and sniffed at this head.

Great! I made a new fried who's gonna sue me for aggravated assault after my first case!

Upon his looks at me like I just pissed him off, the only expression I made as horrified and I blabbed out. “I'm so sorry! I didn't-” He then halted me in gesture and got up. “Save it! My door frames alone already told me I'm too tall and this is not the first time sh!t like this happens.” He wrinkled his nose and gently rubs it.

“Listen, I need to talk you... inside. It's about that case and... other stuff I've uncovered. I know how and where that wallet came from.” I tried to convince him and I wanted to settle this peacefully. He stared me down like he was suspicious of me and then he sighed. “You don't seems like you're gonna blab it out to everyone...” I immediately shook my head in his agreement. I may be doing my job in the name of justice, but I wanted to do it the right way.

“I wouldn't without solid proof and well... you did helped. Twice. Was it because you wanted to help others? Or was is a promise you made for some one like me? Or any reason why you became an attorney?” I was asking so many questions until I noticed some sadness in his glaring stare... Have I said something I shouldn't have?

He then sighed and all that tension from glaring disappeared.“Kid, come in. It's a long story.” He tilted his head to gesture 'get in there.' Normally, I would get bad vibes from suspicious characters, but this guy despite a potential suspect, didn't seem like he was a bad guy... at first.

We got inside and I was... quite surprised. It was so simple yet the furniture reminded me of the 20's styled in great condition. I noticed some book shelves with many well, books, and then some old family photos, some medals, more photos in air gears, some items displayed like monuments and what stood out to me the most was that one, huge piece that was leaning aside from the large book shelves. It was a beat up piece of a propeller.

“May I ask what's with this um... fascinating piece you got leaning?” I politely asked as I sat down on the big couch. He was searching in the drawers for something. “Yeah, that was part of that one plane that I used to fly in the European war about a decade back.”

European war about a decade back? Isn't that...? “You fought in the WWII war?” My eyes gleamed to a hero of that infamous war! Sure the Americans joined in two years later in that and I do respect them too, but this is... amazing that I met someone had fought, survived and live to tell the tale.

“T'che! Who do you think I was doing almost ten years ago? The 'Coco’ Chanel and mess around the Nazi spies?” He said it like he doesn't care about it and cuts my 'hopeful' feelings in half. I wasn't asking disrespectfully on purpose... He was kinda rude.

“I joined in the air force as a 'delivery boy' for carrying supplies and other sh!t I had to do. After a few years when times got rough, I was 'promoted' to join the fights in the air. I wasn't perfect but at least I get the job done.” I was thinking about while I was at that age at the time. I was doing my homework while he was up in the air fighting off the most evil people in the 20th century. I am so far behind his level...

“I did had my fair share of working with people who we all had a common goal. The British, the French resistance, the 'neutral' Swiss. Not the cheese one. We ALL wanted to end the Nazi regime and stop their 'Aryan race' ideology or else 3/4 of the world would not survive up to this day.” He lay down his old book full of photographs and I was looking through all of his photo shots with his groups and others who had joined the cause. Most of them was taken with one or two 'similar' person... I didn't had to ask why he was with so many different people he worked with cause I knew that there was so many lives were lost in that war. Even if some DID lived to tell the tale, I think he would bother to tell me upon first impressions...

“At that time, I only wanted one thing the most from my partners. Loyalty. They can cuss, b!tched out anything, vomit only the outside of the plane because of air sickness, but if they back-stabbed me in the name of the swastika or anything, I ain't afraid to cut them out cold.” Schhk!

I heard like something like a sword unsheathed and I saw something sharp from his right sleeves. It was a knife! “This is me being 'nice' since you seem like the type that doesn't run it's mouth at every little thing. I'm just be as 'polite' as I can but if you double-cross me, I'll send you to the morgue faster than a paycheck spend in a day.”

Now he's threatening me if I tried to turn him in! But I then 'see' something he's holding back. Not the 'other' weapon in another arm, but something about the past in silhouettes behind him... like a woman with another man... and then I saw a small window vision like someone's vision was fading and saw a person with a parachute opened...

I knew that I had yet to ask this, but by hearing this, getting to know his 'present' character, saw a few family photos and 'saw' something hidden...

“Sam... did something happened that made you lose your trust in people?” He gasped with wide eyes opened. I'm now scared of my own safety and what's gonna happened to my family... But I needed to know why.

“I-Im not gonna say what is right or wrong. I can't judge what you might have done or reacted to what happened that made you suspicious towards people. But I want to understand how and why you're acting distance to so many people. I've only saw you twice after that very first meeting and you look like you could have murdered someone if you wanted.”

He then rested his face beck to it's neutral self. “If you're gonna say that 'what if I say I'm like that?' I would ask why did you help me not once, but twice to save my life? I know you're not as bad as those other attorneys says about you when I asked where were you all this time.” I sat very still to wait for his reaction. Is he gonna throw me out in the streets? Yell at me for spouting non-sense? Or is he gonna do anything at all?

He sighed and then started to explain. “Kid, I'll tell you a little something that I learned the hard way when I was around your age. Sit down for a while. It's a bit of a long story so make yourself comfortable.” He sat down comfortably as I was too. “Back in my high school years, I used to date this girl that I liked and I really thought that we really love each other. A real, mushy, teenage love story I used to have. Her name was Nell but we all called her Nelly. I had that dream one day after college once and made enough as a prosecutor, I would ask that 'big question' for her hand in marriage. I also have a twin brother, Simon, who's a Mountie. That's what you might called the Canadian police in that country. He's that eternal Optimistic, yuppy-peace talk, tree hugging, good  manner, good nature conscious @$$hole since we were born. Think of it as polar opposites of our characteristics that 'compliments' each other, OK?”

My eyes 'senses' indicated that on his left hand that he doesn't have the ring...

“Did she refused or something happened to her?”

He shook his head. “Nah... I found out that her feelings and mine weren't the same... Like a knife through the chest, I caught her and my twin brother together alone behind the barn that we used to own. It was after my last part time shift I've done for my college preparations. I even heard their whole conversations and I found out the truth that I was 'really' not happy with. She and my brother were in love. She did admitted that she does like me but... more like a friend and that those times we went to date was so that she doesn't upset me... Wanna guess how my 'feelings' went out the window faster than throwing out cold coffee back then?” He then got up a bit and reached over the shelves to grab a photo frame. “That's when I interrupted their little rendez-vous and I immediately said a lot of sh!t about what I've heard and my thought. I even finished throwing a punch at my twin's face, not caring that I probably broke his nose and then I left for colleague in Montréal. Since then, I dedicated my whole time for my licenced bar and I ignored any letters from home. I was still angry at them and I even discarded their wedding invitation. You can guess how my parents were furious when I said I couldn't come when I came up an excuse... I avoided their supposed 'reunion', both them and the newly weds, when I decided to take a hold in my education and joined the air force for WW2 as a 'delivery boy.'” He places the photo frame face down next to the night table where he is.

“Were you really... so upset about finding out the truth of her that you avoided any contacts with her and even your own family?” I had moments that I wanted to avoid at all cost, but I knew better now that I can't run from my problems cause it's never gonna solve anything but delaying.

“It's not that I was afraid, I just didn't want to deal with them after that.” That still means you're afraid of facing them when you acted out that night. “Anyways, I was then drafted to the air strips, learned how to fly those flying death machines and minded my own business in the war. I delivered the supplies and goods for the army and occasionally for old England when their times were tough about short supplies coming in and out. I have plenty of war stories that would go on and on, but I'll save it for another rainy day.”

I admit that I wanted to hear them, but I decided to respect that so we can continue his story. “As much as there was so many sh!t storms we've got ourselves into, I admit that I did found a new family, if you'd call it that. Random strangers you'd probably never met once before-” He got up and took another photo frame from the shelves, this time it was a group of people in their flight jackets. I can tell that one of them was the younger version of him that's about my age and he looked like he was having a great time with that bright smile. “-but it was close enough.”

He then proceeded to tell me each of them and then once he finished, he said. “We could all been having a good life by now...”

He then violently slammed the photo frame on the coffee table in between us and I heard something cracked. “IF IT WASN'T FOR THAT OSTIE-CRISS-DE-PIECE-D'HUMAIN-MARDE PAUL HAVEN'T PULLED A SUICIDE MISSION AND IF I WAS SMART FOR FIVE BUCKS...” He took a deep breath to calm him down when he noticed that I curled myself into a ball on my seat with eyes wide opened. He cleared his throat and continued. “Well... me and the others were completely clueless when we found out. It was a few months near the end game, 'V-Day' as they called it. We were supposed to transport some goods to the allied soldiers from Egypt to Italy. There was some sort of malfunction problems with most of the planes except for that big one... We didn't have much choice but all four of us embarked it cause some supplies were a bit heavy or many. At that time I, well, 'we' all thought that it would be fine since it was all five of us in one flying tank. It was about in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea when it started. Paul said he might have notice something in the cargo, so he and Cameron, who he volunteered to come along, tagged along while Jesse and myself were just relaxing. I wished that I would have taken his place instead, but I wasn't aware. We both heard a gun shot and Cameron's last cry. I got up and ran at the back with Jesse not far behind. When I opened the door, I was immediately hit from the bullet in the chest. Then I was knocked out... for a few minutes until my blurry vision came and I felt like we were falling vertically. Last I saw before I blacked out again, was Paul opening the emergency door with his parachute.”

My heart sank a whole lot when I heard that. Not only he was betrayed once, but twice! How can anyone abuse such a strong person like him despite some flaws? And why did that Paul guy back stabbed them and almost killed all his crew mates? Did he still believed that the 'Evil' teams were still winning if he does this?

“I barely remembered what exactly happened after that, but they told me from some account that I was found among the remains of our plane by some shipmates from Egypt. I woke up in that country's hospital when they told me that and I was pretty much feel empty on the inside again. It was my second time that I was betrayed by someone that I trusted and I almost completely swore myself never to trust or have another friend as long as I lived. Well... until someone had to change my mind.” I tilted my head to know who.

“During those days that I was bed bound in that make shift hospital, the last person that I wanted to see or even hear from was my twin, Simon. He somewhat learned about me being here and all that jazz, so he came here on his own while Nelly, his wife and my 'ex', was waiting back home... with their kids that I soon learned that I'm an uncle but I had no idea because I cut my ties with them since then. I was too angry from that night.”

He's an uncle like me! My eyes sparkled with joy. “I was even in big surprise that they had triplets.” I almost choked. Triplets?! I had enough trouble with twins but triplets? Oy yoy yoy! “You've got more on your plate than I do!” I said to that.

“Well, they're THEIR kids so I'm just a 'support' guardian so it's not THAT big of a deal for me. Back on topic, I was still not talking to him when he came and started to cry and apologized. I would have throw him out with a throwing technique, but in my condition back then, all I could do at the moment was lie on my back. I was annoyed that he still keep talking and was still insisted that he's gonna change my mind.”

I tiled my head. “And... what happened next?”

“Well, at first I wasn't gonna listen, but when you're bed bound from injuries, boredom would be almost intolerable and well... he DID kinda risk himself and spared his time to see me despite what happened so... I just listened. Turns out that when he and Nelly met the first time, it wasn't love at the start, but then when we started to date more, I wasn't aware that Nelly didn't like me as much as she wanted and that I wasn't exactly right for her. Unlike my twin, I was more serious, smart@$$-ery, indoor guy yet clever, a bit 'too honest' for my own good and I was more 'pessimistic' realistic sometimes. She's not saying that I was a 'bad guy' but I'm just well... wasn't just right for her. Let's just say.”

“So... she wanted to be with your brother instead cause he's more positive and much more... er... NOT that I'm saying you're bad either just well-”

“You don't need to beat around the bush. I preferred to be honest and tell the truth, even if it's hard and it might piss off people sometimes. That may not get many friends, but it will get the right ones. I will admit that I may come across rude sometimes, but I don't like to hide from the truth. Think of it as makeups: You can cover it up for the moment, but sooner or later, your true face will be revealed.”

“I remembered you saying something like that from that coffee shop. I do like honesty in people, but maybe if you try to explain to them in a nicer way, at least they'll respect you AND know you're much nicer than you look.” I know that he's an adult and that he's capable of making his own decisions, but sometimes it's alright to take some advice once in a while.

“I'll keep that in mind. After that was explained, he then told me what I had missed for almost eight years. You know the usual: weddings, babies, stupid parent hood stories with their kids, and how they're all looked like me for somewhat reasons. I didn't done it.”

I gasped. “My nephews look almost like me too!” He raised an eye brow with astonishment. “Seriously? What are the odds?”

“I'd love to tell more, but I still wanted to hear the rest of your story. What happened after you two talked?” I didn't meant to derailed his story, but it was really nice that I found someone who understands being an uncle/parent.

He then resumed. “Like I've said, it was hard, but after a while, I then started to think of all that happened from that time and then I realized of how I was wrong of thinking about the whole thing. I was furious when I found out about them, I was neglectful of all the letters they've send me for returning and for forgiveness apart for some family news, and how my only brother that still cared for me despite of all those years that I wasn't. Like I've said about him, he's a dummy goodie two-shoes, but he's got his heart in the right place. Then it's was time that I started to admit that I was wrong and that I was the one to apologize instead. I also told him that I would have turned back to that night so that we could have ended it more peacefully instead of tears.”

Then the Collie, Tiara, stared to whine with her dog bowl in her mouth once we turned to the direction of the sound. “Ah, tabarnak. Désolé, Tiara. J'ai completement oublié. I'll get your water.” His bilingual accent is really captivating and interesting. He got up from his seat and I did too to follow them in the kitchen. “Ah yes, did I forgot to mentioned that Tiara also came from Egypt, despite being a Border Collie and she was rescued from cross fires with the locals and the remaining Nazis that were hiding there?”

Another amazement! “No. Way-!?” I then 'sensed' something hidden in the kitchen. Oh no, not now! I just got on good terms with him and now it wants me to 'show' me something?

I did my best to ignore it and hoped that I would have a break from 'it.' But unfortunately, I haven't learned my lessons about my 'abilities.' No matter how many times I tried, it will be persistent and will be 'forceful.' My body then moved to move against my will and I was then staring at that one picture with two birds. One with a toucan and a flamingo. My 'sights' then showed me that there were some papers and items that seems like evidences in some sort of a safe box.

Is my sight telling me that he's hiding something important? Like, was he hiding crucial evidence for something? Blackmailing? Anything?

He then said to me. “What were you looking at?” I got surprised. So I had to make an excuse. “I-I was just wondering about this art. It's very tropical! I really like this! You have great taste with this painting!” I did my best to avert my real reason. Sam however, noticed that I was hiding something.

“Really? Just the picture? Do you ever wondered if there was something hiding behind? Like one of them detective gut feeling?” He looked at me like I haven't said something important. I tried to joked. “Ha! Good one! Like the ones in Noir movies if you're rich enough.”

“True, like I’m hiding some important documents from a case I'm currently working on.” He suggested.

“Yeah... Or maybe some important evidence small enough?” I 'innocently' said while I scratched my back.

“Or maybe say... a small, wooden box?” He then suggested. “Mmmm... maybe if it's small enough, yes it would be a possibility.” I said with my eyes glued to the floor.

I then felt a tap on my head and I looked up to a pair of staring eyes. “Or maybe someone's not being completely honest about what he said. Did you know I have a 'knack' of finding out the truth in a bizarre way?” He crossed his arms and was expecting me to tell him what I know. After hearing his story, I can't blame him for suspecting treason for the third time

I then felt terrified in a long time. What am I supposed to say? I have 'super vision powers' to see the truth and secrets, please spare me? I begged him. “Please Mr. Toucan! I don't want to cause any trouble! I know you're not a bad person, but I really can't say what I know! I'm the only person that my own nephews can trust after-ah!” Then Tiara plopped on me like she wanted to lick my face. I then started to giggle a bit until she had snatched something VERY important and irreplaceable!

It was my special necklace... My mom's and my sister's special necklace!

“Give that back, Tiara!” I tried to get it back, but she was quicker and she handed it to Sam. “Please! Don't break it or take it away! It's very important to me!” I was scared and I was almost into tears.

He noticed my appearance and he softened a bit. “Easy. I'm not that type of person to pick someone like you. I just wanted to know the truth.” He said.

I didn't know that I was being too scared over this, but what I needed right now was that necklace. “I... I know what you wanted, but please! I don't want to be send to a mental hospital! My nephews are my only family left and vice versa! They can't go my relatives over seas right now! They're too young to understand-”

He then clamped my mouth. “Whoa!Whoa!Whoa! Slow down! I never said I was gonna turn you in. I'm asking how you knew something about that portrait I kept it a secret.” He tries to calm me.

I shook a bit but I was a bit relieved. He decided to hand over my necklace and I held it very close. “I... Thank you. I'm sorry... I've... had this ever since my sister gave it to me when I was fifteen. She told me that it used to belong to my mother that I never knew and that she told me that it was rightfully mine. Although, I never understood why, but it feels very special to me.”

“You've also mentioned about nephews and being the only one. Care to share that story?” He asked. Well... I decided to tell him about it.

After a while... I explained on my sister and my father's demise and my relatives.

“I see. So you're almost a single parent, but you could have asked one of your relatives to help out. I'm pretty sure they'll be more than happy to see them more often.” He asked as he handed over a cup of hot milk.

“Thanks. I know that they even insisted, but the thing is, I'm not sure that Inky or Winky are ready or mature enough to live with them. They ARE my sister's. They're nice but sometimes a bit of trouble makers. I'm afraid that they'll be spoiled or they'll give more hard time for them when they're supposed to be enjoying their golden years after raising kids.” I explained.

“I'm pretty sure that they wanted you to have some freedom at your age. Lots of guys wanted to have freedom. I was no exception despite some circumstances.” Sam said.

“I know what you meant, but I made a promise to my sister that I will be there for them. Luckily for me, they all understood and they said that they'll be there if I needed them. I was told by some that I'm so much more mature than my 'look a like' cousin... Which is a story for another time...” I scratched my head and took a sip.

“I can wait for that. However, I still wanted to know what's the deal earlier before you panicked. I'm not going to turn you in, I just... had a 'knacking' feeling you were hiding something.”

I gulped at that. Is it really alright with me telling him? Even if we've met 'officially' the second time?

“I... would you believe that I have a 'talent' that can see things... hidden and... other things?” I shookly spoke. That's it. I'm done for.

He then patted on my head like a kid brother. “Hey. You weren't lying. So I believe you.”

I opened my eyes wide open to him. See if he was lying, but he wasn't. “You... believed me? Just like that?”

“You want to know how I knew and why I do?” He then pointed at his nose. “Remember that part about that plane accident? My nose had somewhat started to act funny when people lie or hiding something. Not for sneezing, but more like irritating and it makes me pissed. Depending on who they are and my mood, my manners are from one to f#ck you. Just a penny for thoughts if I ever done that to you. I've been through a lot and now I barely give a damn now a days.”

Apart that last piece he can detect lies with his nose? Huh! Guess we're not so different at all.

“Say, Sam. Have you ever made new friends here since you've moved?” I asked.

“Most of the people at the court house are a bunch of Willy Wonkas and think they can please and sugar coat everyone and everything. I only dropped in their conversations if sh!t hits the fans when they screw up big time.”

Guess I have much work to do with him.

----- Woken up from cloud 7-----

“Hey! Sleepy head! Wake up! He's almost here!” The voice of Kitty had woken me up. I saw her and my nephews all excited. “Huh? Wha?”

“Uncle! It's Uncle Sam's birthday! Remember?” Inky shouted. “And his family is coming over from Canada! You told us, remember?” Winky in turn shouted.

“Boys! This is a restaurant! Use your inside voices.” I shushed them. “And no, didn't forget.”

Truth is, the reason why we decided to hold it here was today, is in fact, Sam Toucan's birthday. The only thing Sam doesn't know is that this is a surprise party. I then noticed Sam's car coming. “Hey, Felix! Over here! Before they see you!” I noticed Sheba's shouting from the other side of the room, where it was reserved and I was like 'I'm trying to teach these kids a lesson and you just broke the concept' look.

I was then dragged by the twins who followed Kitty into the reserved area, where it's like a private room, but thankfully for us we can see better in the dark and who else is there.

“Alright, is everyone ready? I see them coming.” Sheba notified us from behind the curtains.

I heard the others giggling a bit and some of us hushed as we heard Sam, Woody and Matteo coming up closer. They told him to duck his head before he hits that door frame. Thank God they did or  else he's gonna use words that aren't meant for children in any language.

As soon as they turned on the lights, we all shouted “SURPRISE!!!” All of us and also included, Sam's family from Canada which includes his faulty twin brother, Simmon, his wife *Ahem and ex-girlfriend, Ahem* Nelly, and his three nephews that looks a lot like him, Puey, Susey, and Louis. These three teenagers were identified by their colored scarfs of their scout uniforms, thankfully.

Sam chuckled with a rare happy feeling. “Well isn't this a nice surprise for a change.” I felt much happier than him, even if I would never admit it.

From back to that coffee shop where we first met, the stories he would tell, the patience I had to use whenever he was brutally honest, gaining his trusts little by little and then once the big pay off came, he did got better.

I'm not saying he's perfect, but he is-

“Felix, is that your name?” I was asked by Sam's little twin brother. “Huh? Yes, it is.” I said.

He talked to me while everyone was busy with Sam“I know this is a special day for both my twin and myself, but I wanted to thank you and your family to have a very memorable moment since we were younger. You've given him a very valuable gift that no money can buy.”

“I doubt it. All I did was being his friend.” It's not like I've turned to Batman and saved Gotham city at night. (At least not while I'm taking care of kids at the moment.)

“You gave him a reason to trust people. He barely did so when he came back from war. Sure, we all forgive each other, but he seems like he was, distant, from other people. Not to mentioned being cynical most of the time.”

“Yes. I know.” Being realistic and logical was one thing, but bitter and distrustful was another.

“I just wanted to know that if ever you need help, my brother and yours truly as a Royal Canadian Mountie, are available at anytime.” He placed his hands on my shoulder. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.” I thanked him.

I looked at Sam again to see that he's still having a great time. I looked at all of us to see that our 'family' had grown much larger since last time.

We might not be related, but we all care for each other and we all accept each other. Flaws and all.

And one day, we can be a one, big, happy, family.

----THE END----

Ahhhh..... I’m slugish and finally finished my OC’s humanized Sam Toucan’s backstory. 

As I’ve implied, he does have a faulty twin brother, Simmon. To help you understand him, he’s the Dudley do-right version.

I wanted to give him an opposite personalities, like ying and yang but they compliment each other.

Now for the wifey, I decided to choose Dudley’s sweat heart version too.

As for kids well, if you watched the froot loop’s commercials from more than two decades, he does in fact, have THREE nephews with the unofficial canon names in this story.

Now for this part of the story, I wanted to utilize the days from the Zodiac signs, the astrology one, to describe his character.

Which is also known as a Scorpio. 🦂♏ Like me!

And news flash for any Felix the cat and Mickey Mouse cartoon fans: Their Birthdays are under the Scorpio dates!!!!!

And to finish off, I wanted to write about how Felix and Sam’s friendship had been formed and evolves over time. So you can think it’s like Bendy and Boris but more on a friendship level than ‘Bromance’ or ‘BL’ level.

Sam is straight, end of story.

BBTIM AU and humanized characters belongs to Marini4. OCs like humanized Sam Toucan, Woody McPecker and Matteo belongs to me.

[symphonic--chaos]

Based off of the Alternate Universe episode in Season 1. Got some Magnus/Alec personality swap and creative liberties due to lack of further detail in the episode. Also some flirting, making out and all around cuteness.

I think we all need this after the trainwreck of our hearts during tonight’s episode.

Thanks to my boo’s, @scarred-jade-dreams​ , @headofthenewyorkinstitute​ , and @britterzthecookie​ for being my cheerleaders. 🖤

~~~~Then~~~~

A certain level of cockiness resided in him from his self made ‘success’ in being a psychic, in letting people get starry-eyed over their love readings from his ever so faithful cards, or, if he was in a mood, startling them with something that wasn’t so pleasant just to get the seat empty. They always came crawling back anyway, junkies for their ‘future’, the lot of them. Still, it was something to keep him busy, something to keep the roof over his and the cats’ heads, and it was something he knew he was talented enough to sell. The girl who came to him, Clary, she had been the start of something new, something strange. She had given him a push into a life he’d long since put aside and almost forgotten, one that he would still hide even if he were to finally be one with it once again.

To feel the electric crackling in his fingers, the one that warmed them and urged him to do something with the powers that once lay dormant since he was a child, it was nostalgic. A piece of his childhood that he never knew how to harness and use to his will. Something he’d grown frustrated with trying to learn alone while having to hide it from his family, who surely would never understand. With this awakening, in his willingness to assist her in her quest to find someone in her dimension, he’d met him; he who was forward and handsome, seemingly cocky and so sure in his own way. 'Alec’ as he’d introduced, though as of what he’d heard up to this day, most people called him Alexander.

Alexander was a name that seemed as high class as the clothes the taller male wore the night of the party in the institute, the room void of the fashion artwork and clothes on display as the rest of the building was full of. Alexander was as sharp as the jawline Magnus’s eyes couldn’t tear from, which matched the equally fine cheekbones sitting high below stunning bright eyes that contrasted the styled black hair atop his head. Wit came from a smirking mouth, which spouted flirty words that he never expected, leaving him sputtering and wondering if he realized who he was speaking to. A no one, just him, Magnus Bane, the psychic of Brooklyn. The psychic that had spotted Clary and left behind the man that truly belonged in the institute rather than a law office, a piece of artwork that he’d never seen in anyone else in his 27 years. Alexander was perfect and he knew it.

Fast forward to a Tuesday months later, they found themselves in the same vicinity again, and Alec decided that Magnus’s way home would also be his own, tagging along to grab a train once they arrived. Those plans diverted as Magnus had, rather slowly, asked him if he wanted to come up for tea or coffee, shooing the two meowing cats away from the door as he let them in. It seemed Alexander– no, Alec, didn’t lose his flirty nature towards him, and Magnus certainly became no less flustered towards it, only amplifying as the other scrawled his number on Magnus’s palm, closing his fingers over it.

“Wait, wait! This is a fountain pen…” He had called after Alec as he started leaving, opening his hand to show the smudged number.

It was a needed laugh between the two to break the small nervous tension that had come between them, the number instead written on his arm despite the offer of a notepad. It was a number he’d stared at for a long moment even as the door shut behind Alec, only to be startled out of it moments later as a knock had interrupted the silence. The unexpected kiss that was planted on his lips once he opened the door had him both shocked and pleased- Alec’s lips felt just as nice as they looked. He knew he’d stared at them too much while they spoke for that hour or more before, the same way he noticed Alec had been looking at his own when he had found himself flirting back, both giving away their thoughts though neither acted on it. It had been his first kiss, his first real kiss, considering he hadn’t found anyone interesting enough to date, much less kiss, and he wasn’t into meaningless mingling. This was likely the cause of the kiss, as he could still see Alec’s shocked face in his mind from when he’d told him during a vague discussion they’d had about relationships, how Magnus said everyone was probably fawning all over Alec.

Just like that it was over and Alec was giving that award winning smile, retreating as he reminded him to call. Magnus’s reaction, naturally, was to smile stupidly as he shut the door, standing there in thought and still a little high from the endorphins and adrenaline that kiss gave him. As he turned, the keys on the kitchen island caught his attention, he knew for a fact they weren’t his, and he could also recall Alec’s jacket there during the time they spent together. The number on his arm was quickly dialed and, despite knowing just who would pick up, he still felt breathless as he heard Alec’s amused voice pick up, though that amusement dropped once he heard that his keys weren’t in his possession. “I’m halfway to the station, hold on.”

Instead of waiting, Magnus was already out the door and headed down the stairs with the keys in his hand, the front door pushed open with ease as he headed towards the station. A short walk from his apartment, something he had loved about it due to the ease of transport, it didn’t take him long to spot Alexander and hand him the keys. Their hands had lingered, his fingertips brushing Alec’s palm while the others were touching the soft underside of his wrist. It was like that familiar spark all over again, the electricity produced by his abilities was instead given by the man in front of him and, just like his urge to do something with that power, he felt the urge to do something about their spark. He moved in and kissed him.

Alec didn’t go home that night, his bed instead replaced by the bed in Magnus’s guest room after a night of more talking, learning about each other, and more importantly, those addictive kisses. But what was most important of it all was the date planned for later that week, something that had him more excited and nervous than he’d been in a long, long while. Something discussed after they’d met up in the kitchen over the breakfast Magnus had whipped up, finding it strange to be cooking for two rather than himself.

“Friday night, 7:30. I’ll be here at exactly then, I’ll pick you up.”

~~~~Now~~~~

The car clock read 12:57am and Magnus was nearly squirming of excitement in the driver’s seat as he steered towards Alec’s parents home, loving every second of driving the car that cost more than a couple years rent for him. He had nearly choked on his drink when finding out it had been an early college graduation present, which Alec was set to finish in May- perks of well paid parents who loved their hard-working son. Still, he was honored that the other had trusted him enough to drive it and have fun in the busy, crowded streets of Manhattan. Their stop at the house was quick and near silent, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been snuck in, so that Robert didn’t hear that his rules of ’none of your girls or boys in your room under my roof’ were broken, despite his son being almost in his mid-20’s. Maryse was even there, giving a small wave and a mouthed 'Hi!’ from her doorway.

Unbeknownst to him, she’d seen him there on Thursday morning at 2am, when he’d shown up suddenly at the doorstep and saying he couldn’t sleep and Alec was the only person left he could think turn to. Catarina was at work and his other friend, Dot, was traveling to see family. A shy smile was given as he lifted a hand in a small wave, clearly embarrassed by being seen sneaking around with her son when they weren’t even an item, and also before he’d even really been introduced to her. Magnus waited patiently against the wall of Alec’s room, staying out of his way as he moved around to collect an overnight bag, trying to be more prepared than he had been Tuesday when he had to wear Magnus’s too small clothes to bed. As quickly as they had gone in, they were back out and in the car, headed to Brooklyn where Magnus’s cats were surely throwing a party, assuming he wouldn’t be home. At least that’s what he liked to joke about whenever he was gone past midnight.

I like my coffee in the morning, I like my whiskey in the evening, yeah. I like it when you say you miss me- Maybe it’s because I’m really needy, yeah.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car. I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

The song on the radio was catchy and cute, upbeat and a nice change from the slow melodic music that the previous DJ had been playing, it succeeded in getting Magnus’s fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel and he swore he felt a light tapping on his thigh where Alec’s hand rested. It made him think as he focused on the road, they hadn’t kissed since that Tuesday night. Something had come over him, something that made him want to test if this was really just some fling that Alec was looking for despite his assurance that he really wanted a true date.

“No, no more kisses. Not until after our date on Friday.” Ringed and painted fingers gently rested on Alec’s lips, which were just mere inches away from his own, sufficiently blocking the pairs from touching.

“But–” The other had started in the faintest of whines.

“No, none!” Magnus had laughed, instead pressing a kiss to the back of his fingertips as if that would satisfy Alec.

Magnus glanced over just briefly at Alec, his date watching the scenery around them as they passed and looking rather nonchalant about the way Magnus zipped through the streets at a speed a tad higher than permitted. He could see how post-date he’d become more relaxed, the red blazer jacket open wide and the first few buttons of the red and white checked shirt had been undone, untucked from the blue jeans he wore. He watched as Alec’s tongue darted out over his bottom lip and he could only wonder if he was thinking the same thing. Just as those days had been torture on Alec, they had surprisingly been the same for him. While he didn’t care for or dabble in drugs, it seems he did now when it came to an addiction of not getting enough of the others lips. How worrisome, he’d thought.

I like it when you say you want me, I don’t mind it when you say you need me now. Scares me to think about the future, I don’t like to picture it without you there.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car. I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

As they neared his apartment building, he realized that Alec wasn’t tapping on his thigh anymore, rather, he’d started faintly squeezing it along with the lyrics to the chorus. It was almost endearing, and due to this realization it only took him a short moment before he would take action. A look in the rearview told him that no one was behind him and a park to their right, he pulled over swiftly and earned a confused noise from the passenger seat and an equally questioning look from Alec. The car was just barely thrown into park before he turned in his seat, taking Alec’s face between his warm hands and pulling him into the kiss he knew they’d both been craving.

It was almost as if Alec had caught on quickly the minute Magnus’s hands were on his face and Magnus was thrilled when he was met over the center console, saving him any embarrassment of launching himself over it. The kiss was a mixture of hungry and greedy, his mind racing over the way Alec’s hands snaked their way up, one curling around the back of Magnus’s neck and the other cupping the arm that rested on the console as if to hold him steady, solidify his place there. It was a kiss that said ’this is mine’ on both sides, yet one that told Magnus that he wasn’t being played as he thought, that Alec’s intentions were true. Magnus’s breath escaped short and hot as the kiss deepened, feeling the warm, damp swipe of Alec’s tongue over his bottom lip, only to be followed by the blunt edges of his teeth, tugging, teasing… but just as before when sneaking out of the house, it was over as quick as it began. Still, their lips lingered, barely touching, and a smile formed on both as Alec rested their foreheads together.

“Let’s… Finish that kiss at my place.” Magnus said once he’d cleared his throat, forcing out the words as all his resistance was used to hold back. This was his, finally. Someone who caught his interest, who chased and let him play coy and make him work for it; someone who did just the same and gave Magnus a thrill. This was his Alec, and he was no longer Magnus Bane the psychic of Brooklyn, he was his Magnus. Alec’s Magnus.

One day I’ll take you to the stars, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

I promise not to go too far, but tonight I wanna kiss you in my car.

[nonotome]

4 and 20. 420. blaze it

4 - What are some things you are tired of seeing in the RPing community?

People having spars in Pearl Lane. ARGH.I don’t like RP-fight pileups. They’re less common in FFXIV because a majority of people seem to RP within their own houses and the like, which is fine but I wish more people would wander the streets of the main cities. I found it jarring to see so many people just standing around in the streets of Ul’dah OOC when I came over from World of Warcraft, but that’s a non-issue for another time.A pileup occurs when two characters have an altercation of some kind and there’s a considerable difference between narrative and real time. While it’s taking ten minutes for one character to respond to getting hit by the the other three emotes or so in to the fight, a handful of people could have gathered to watch because they are moving in real time around a city to look for RP.There are certain “traffic” lines in most hubs where people will go along to search for RP, in Ul’dah it’s Pearl Lane and the area beyond, through The Gold Court before looping back to the Quicksand. Character conflicts will inevitably happen here because that’s where the most RP is, that’s fine.I usually consider that each emote encompasses about 5 seconds of time passing, so roughly 15 seconds into a fight or other altercation starting, there could be any number of spectators from all over the place, who were on the other side of the city ten minutes ago that will stand, watch and interrupt. More about that later.What can be done about that? I don’t think much can besides communication, but that’s difficult with such a disjointed and large group of people. Don’t fight along those traffic lines if you don’t want any rubberneckers and if you do spot a fight somewhere, ask before you jump in because the first blow might not have even been struck!20 - Wild card: The mun discusses any situation/problem they want.I’m going to be frank and honest with you, I think the server lore around the weekly Mystic Runestone event is dumb.I’ll do my best to explain my reasoning why, the Mystic Runestone is an event on Balmung that happens every Sunday, it’s a tournament styled, 1 vs 1 /random event between mages. It’s a good way to kill some time and meet people. I thoroughly enjoy attending and I’m glad that it’s there.

However,

The Mystic Runestone allows for the usage of forbidden magic during the tournament and to the credit of the organizers, they do say that the appropriate authorities may deal with people after the event has been concluded. There are a few problems with this idea, though.

The Mystic Runestone takes place at Fesca’s Wash, which is probably a distance away from Ul’dah in character, but either way it is not very far. This is a public area as far as I am concerned.

This assumes that if player characters aren’t willing to deal with the issue of forbidden magicks in the open, then an NPC authority able to punish them does not exist unless the player playing as the forbidden mage takes it into their own hands and deals with their own consequences.

That NPCs don’t exist at all. Why would anybody allow this event to take place if it was openly stated that forbidden magic is allowed? Why would the Order of Nald’thal not come out in force and clean the place up? It’s stated several times in the BLM questline how illegal and taboo the art is, and how driven the Order is to lock away the books of Nald and Thal. I imagine they’re equally as thorough with any other questionable and dangerous magic.

The format of the event makes it very difficult to actually do something about these forbidden spell-flingers when there is the rare occasion that a player character is willing to deal with them.

The organizers will protect any forbidden mages during the event. I’m aware that this might exist as a way to stop interruptions and to keep things running smoothly, I understand that perfectly. There are stretches that I am willing to make, but I think the inclusion of forbidden magicks at the event at all makes the event need this constant and frankly unnecessary vigilance that I believe in my heart of hearts does not make loreworthy sense.

This story below is a personal experience and does not speak for the entire event by itself, but should enforce my above points.There was one time that I attended the Runestone and saw somebody who introduced themselves as a “Void User.” Well, that’s pretty suspicious. I spoke to them OOC to make sure it was fine for my character to try to detain his character and he might attack him if necessary, since Nonotome is more zeal than sense at times like these. I also asked them if they would like me to wait until their tournament bouts were over before I did, and they said that would be better because they didn’t want to lose out on the prize money. (??? - If there’s prize money, ditch it and ditch it now. Going to an RP event should be for the love of role playing, not because you want OOC Gil, what the heck.)

Fair enough, if that’s what they want I’m more than willing to wait until the end. We made a few arrangements,  he said that his character would run away after being attacked. I agreed to that, because it was a nice way to wrap things up. His character would not be killed or maimed, but will still suffer a consequence showing himself to be an illegal void wizard and my character would get to do their job as a Priest of Nald’thal - No fuss!The problems started to arise here. The more matches you win in the event, longer that you’re in it. RP takes time and I understand that fully. I could have ducked out at any moment but I’m a patient person, I had arranged an RP and I was willing to wait. It took a good few hours! That’s mostly where the format can get in the way of dealing with forbidden mages IC, I don’t imagine that everyone is going to wait that long to jump a void mage - Obviously that was not something that was in my control, but it’s a format issue nonetheless.Without asking me or making further arrangements, the Void Mage summoned his FC after his final bout, stood in the very middle of the group and went “Okay you can attack me now.” in a tell to me. There was a good six or seven of them and I’m pretty sure they weren’t at the Runestone during his fights. I know that he summoned his FC because he MT’d a “Come and help me I’m going to get beaten up” or something to that effect to me.It’s at that point I should have walked away, but I had waited for so long and it would feel like a waste of time if I didn’t, so I followed through. Nonotome approached, requested that the void mage put his weapons down and came quietly and to nobody’s surprise, everybody defends the void mage. Even members of the audience that were not affiliated with the void mage at all.

Long story short, the Void Mage tries to calmly walk away like they’re invincible, Nonotome throws a spell at them (which I felt was justified, especially since I was under the impression that he was going to run away) and the Priest of Nald’thal gets threatened and attacked, yes, attacked by not only members of the summoned group, but members of the audience.

Members of the public are more willing to stand up for a random Void Mage than a Priest of Nald’thal. In Thanalan. That’s right, a universally taboo practitioner has more favor than a member of the local clergy.

The “forbidden magicks are allowed” rule does not overrule the laws of the land, and it is the main reason many people that I know do not attend this event. Which is a danged shame, really.

The last thing that I wanted to rant about is that just because one can muster up more player characters to take one’s side, it does not mean that a scenario is automatically won by sheer numbers. It’s true that in real life, most things are easier if you summon your buddies - But in RP, you’re not more likely to succeed because you have more manpower, at least not in the way that one thinks! The bigger group is more likely to succeed because it’s very hard to talk and arrange things with seven people at once, while reading emotes being thrown at one lone person. They are more likely to succeed because it’s just difficult, it’s a hassle and too much is being expected of one person. Especially when the focal member of the altercation is walking away and pressuring the smaller group to quickly hammer out an emote to keep him there, making it seem like the smaller group is ignoring everybody else.Book-ending to the RP-pileup rant at the top there. There are things I could’ve done better on an OOC level but what is done is done and I can laugh and harmlessly rant about it.

[grassshrimp56-blog]

How I Found My Dad Again on a Solo Trip to Vietnam

Pancakes were my dad’s specialty, mostly because he made them on special occasions: when his parents came to town, after I won a roller skating competition, before a drive to nearby Sequoia National Park.

His favorite special occasions were when his beloved Los Angeles Rams played the San Francisco 49ers. Before his friend Arlie, a Niners fan, would arrive to watch the game with him, he’d make his pancakes. It was a pre-game ritual and a prayer rolled into one: “Dear Heavenly Father of Football, bless these pancakes we are about to receive—and also, if you wouldn’t mind, bless the Rams with strong defense and a lot of touchdowns today.”

The pancakes he made weren’t distinctive. They weren’t whisked from scratch or shaped like hearts or topped with a blueberry smiley face. They were made with Bisquick, oil, and eggs.

Sometimes he’d let me pour the batter into the pan, and together we’d marvel at the sharp, short-lived sound it made on impact. Tzzzuuhhh, tzzzuuhh. How quickly it spread, how gracefully, I thought, each pancake stopped just shy of a collision with the other. We never poured more than two at a time.

“Nobody likes to be crowded,” he’d say.

The result was my then-favorite food: pancakes thick in the center, burned at the edges, and drowned in buttermilk syrup. Pancakes made by my dad and me.

Cooking wasn’t something he did often. Neither was showing up for dinner on time. Vast swaths of my childhood are usurped by the memory of a single, recurring event: my kid brother and I sitting at the dinner table watching ketchup bubble and drip down the sides of a steaming meatloaf, my mother shouting to us from the kitchen, “Look but don’t touch.”

We were waiting for my dad to come home. When at last he'd arrive, he’d kiss my mom on the cheek, and together we’d eat and watch Wheel of Fortune.

This ritual ended right before my 10th birthday, when my dad stopped coming home at all. Soon after, my parents divorced. My dad remarried and my mom got a second and a third job. Lines were drawn, sides were taken. I was not on his. We rarely met, and when we did, we masked our hurt with small talk and wooden smiles. Our before, as in “before the divorce,” became a hollow, infinite after.

Time passed. He started a business and divorced again. I moved to Los Angeles and then to New York. Our fragile “after” morphed into a series of stops and starts, the former marked by awkward attempts at recapturing our pancake days; the latter by the silences between them.

Fast forward to 2010. I am married and living in Tel Aviv. It is late May, and the hamsin have arrived, kicking up dust and stirring the heat. I sit alone on my balcony watching a bougainvillea tree sway in the wind and thinking of the night before. Last night, my husband made his safta’s ktsitsot, and after placing three perfectly round meatballs on his plate, turned to me and said, “I don’t love you anymore.”

He’d spend the next day moving out.

Where will I go?, I think to myself. I am not yet a resident and will have to leave Israel. I think of the friends I will lose and the money this will cost. And then, I think of my dad. Specifically, I think of the day when, while playing with my brother in our overstuffed garage, I found a black, dust-covered box with a gold medal inside. I’d taken it to my mom to ask if I could keep it.

“Where did you find that?” she said, breathless and impatient. “Put it back before your father sees it.”

I would later learn that it was an award my dad won for heroism and valor. In 1969, he killed an enemy soldier while on night watch in Vietnam. Presumably, he’d saved his platoon from a surprise attack. He was barely 20 years old.

He didn’t tell me this. My mother did. I recently read somewhere that over a quarter of a million Vietnam veterans still have PTSD. I’m not sure if my dad ever had any psychological trauma relating to his service. (His hearing, on the other hand, was greatly affected, a fact that makes it difficult for him to converse on the phone, and consequently, difficult for the two of us to converse at all.) Like so many veterans, he never talked about the war. Even now, the subject of Vietnam remains private, off limits to everyone, perhaps even to himself.

On the balcony, a cluster of pink flower petals has collected in a corner. I pick them up and throw them over the crumbling cement ledge. “Vietnam,” I say to the bougainvillea tree. I will go to Vietnam.

I decided to fly from Tel Aviv to Bangkok, with a loose plan to spend three months making a loop: Thailand to Laos to Vietnam to Cambodia. And then? I didn’t yet know the answer.

At the start of my trip, I didn’t think about my dad at all. I was too busy getting lost and feeling out of place and tasting foods I’d never seen before. In Thailand, I ate laap and durian ice cream. In Laos, I toured rice and mung bean farms, and played duc day with locals over Beerlao and tam. I saw ballets, went hiking, and took questionably constructed buses to villages with no name. Through it all, I rarely thought about my dad.

Eventually, however, the eagerness that required I accept every invitation and see every recommended sight subsided, giving way to a slower, more peaceful pace. I spent long, lazy afternoons reading and people-watching and drinking too many Thai iced teas. With more time to think, my thoughts turned to my dad.

These thoughts became especially vivid while researching routes and transportation between Laos and Vietnam. If I heard a laugh like his, I thought of him. If I saw a man with a mustache, I thought of him. If I smelled pancakes on the street—they are ubiquitous in Southeast Asia—I thought of him. Vietnam’s proximity was stirring my emotions. By the time I left Laos, my dad was the only thing on my mind.

When I arrived in Hanoi, the sensory overload shocked me. Vietnam is, at once, familiar and distant. In Halong Bay, endless mist floats over and into junk boats and cliff edges. In Vinh Moc, dank tunnels attest to lives lived entirely underground. In Ho Chi Minh City, buildings with ornate ceilings and bright tiled floors whisper of past French colonial rule.

I was unprepared for the real Vietnam. For its sounds and smells and breadth. For its darkness and vitality and cool. For its many thousand layers of tradition and lore that can never be fully peeled back.

I wondered, everywhere I went, if my dad had once been where I stood. In Hoi An, a port city and UNESCO World Heritage Site near My Lai and the former Vietnamese Demilitarized Zone, he came into particularly sharp view.

I am starting the long walk back to Hoi An’s city center after a day on the beach. Hungry, I turn off the main road and enter a bungalow with a sign that, I hope, says “restaurant.” There’s an upper deck and a small bar and two wooden tables set with unlit candles. In the back, a pond with a bird feeder at its center. There are no customers.

“You want eat?” A woman appears and sets a metal basket full of neon condiments on the table in front of me. “I bring menu for you.” Her voice is staccato and quick, a medley of diphthongs and off-glides and abrupt nasal stops. It is also kind.

When she returns and hands me the menu, I stammer and shrug. It’s written in Vietnamese and has no pictures.

“You want noodle? You want soup?”

“Noodles?” I ask more than state.

“Noodle good. Pork okay for you?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Okay. Cao lầu. Famous food for Hoi An. Only make in Hoi An. I bring you.”

She leaves and turns on the radio behind the bar. I sit and watch the birds stop at the edge of the pond, then quickly fly away.

When my meal arrives, I cup the bowl and admire the salty perfume. There are bean sprouts and greens and chiles. There are peanuts and a squeeze of lime. Fried pork rinds are sprinkled on the braised chunks of pork. Lining the cao lầu’s perimeter are the long, square-edged noodles that give the dish its name. I mix all of these together and take my first bite. It’s acidic and sweet, tacky and dense.

Legend has it that cau lầu noodles can only be produced in Hoi An. Of their three ingredients—water, ash, and ground rice—two can’t be found anywhere else in the world. It is said that the water is from an ancient Cham well just outside of town, and the ash is made from firewood on the nearby Cham Islands.

With each bite I take, a stream of memories pours forth. My dad washing our dog. My dad playing cards. My dad on a ski lift with me. We’d gone snowboarding when I’d visited him in Reno on my 21st birthday, and when his back had acted up, he’d nursed three cups of cocoa in the lodge so that I could have a full day on the slopes. Recalling this, I start to cry. Another memory: My dad pinning my Bluebirds badge on a pig-tailed, six year-old me. And another: My dad clapping wildly for me at my college graduation. And still another: My dad sitting across from me seven years earlier at a restaurant in New York, the last time I’d seen him.

I’m openly weeping now, hunched over my bowl and what remains of my new favorite dish. I can’t stop crying, and I can’t understand why I started.

Now, nearly a decade later, the reason is clear. Though my dad and I didn’t talk during my travels and we don’t speak often now, it was as if he was there with me. Alone in Vietnam, eating a dish whose ingredients aren’t available anywhere else, I felt closer to him than I had in 25 years. It was as if he had finally come home.

Source: https://food52.com/blog/24232-cao-lau-noodles-in-vietnam

[kamelodi]

Get to know me tag!

Tagged by the beautiful @toomanyfeelsexogdi, lovely @ilikechimchimnuggets, sweet @kaidonutsuniverse. ✨

Tagging: @loyalkaisoo @wuace @xxlostinthedragonxx @livinka-n-diland @wakawaka33 @hellomellowyellowjello @dcc1288 @monkeecamsie (Do it if you want to! I apologise if you’ve already done it! :>) 

Rules: answer these 92 statements and tag 10 people.

THE LAST:

1. Drink: Orange juice. Gotta get that Vitamin C because I ain’t getting that Vitamin D. It’s so cold here, I feel like my nose is going to fall off. :< Please eat lots of oranges to protect yourself against the cold everyone! :> 

2. Phone call: My friend Toby. He let me listened to his dog whine through the phone. Great thing to fall asleep too. :> I wish I had a pupperino. 

3. Text message: My sis-in-law because I wanted bubble tea! 

4. Song you listened to: What Redbone would sound like if it were a Cat Piano Cover

5. Time you cried: Today!

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: Yes, only once~ I actually remember sneaking out of my house once when I was really young, lied to my family just so I can have a sleepover with them. We didn’t do anything inappropriate but I nearly got lost in the streets by myself at night just to see them. We haven’t talked in years and it’s funny how they live down the street to me now. :> 

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yes! I would rather kiss a frog than kiss them again. 

8. Been cheated on: Fortunately not yet. 

9. Lost someone special: Yes. 

10. Been depressed: :(


11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: No! I don’t think I will ever drink hahaha but I do want to get drunk once and see if I do anything funny. Just so I have a funny drunk story to tell. :>

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14: Blue has been my favourite colour since I ever knew about colours. It’s really pretty, calming, like the sky. However I definitely think colour is associated with personality because nowadays I prefer to tell people that I like red ever since I wanted to become more confident. I think the intensity and passion of the colour is what I wanna be rather than a passive and calm blue. But that’s how I show myself to the world, I’m still an alice blue inside (I say that because my name is Alice and alice blue is a shade of blue! hahaha). I will always love black...even if it’s a shade. It’s just sophisticated, classy and mysterious. 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Yes! Hopefully it will last! :> 

16. Fallen out of love: Was I really in love with that person? 

17. Laughed until you cried: Yes, my friend was reading a poem to me and I fell onto the middle of the road and laughed until I cried. It was the way he read it. No one else can make it funny but him.

18. Found out someone was talking about you: Nope!

19. Met someone who changed you: No...? But ever since I joined Tumblr a few months ago, I got to talk to people who has had a major influence on me. Before that, I would just stalk them online so I’m happy to have finally talked to them. :>

20. Found out who your friends are: Yep!

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Ya! 

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: 50%? 


23. Do you have any pets: I have 3 lovely pet fish who like to splash in their pretty fish bowl and I stalk this beautiful cat who appears in my neighbourhood. 

24. Do you want to change your name: Not...really? When I was 8, I remember asking my mum if I could change my birthday. It was really silly because it was the date that the Simpsons movie was going to be released lmao and I guess that was me expressing my excitement? Twitter/tumblr style lmao. But I love my birthday. 💕

25. What did you do for your last Birthday: Every single birthday, we go to my favourite fancy restaurant and eat lobster. 

26. What time did you wake up: 8am because food. 

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Watching The Little Mermaid for fic writing purposes! But I fell asleep while watching it! 

28. Name something you can’t wait for: kaisoo’s wedding. I even have a speech prepared. 

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: This morning. 


30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: A lot of things...I really wanna go back in time. Let’s build a time machine. \o/

31. What are you listening right now: The Weeknd - Die For You | The Theorist Piano Cover

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yep!  


33. Something that is getting on your nerves: My uncle smokes and drinks a lot. He has lung problems but he’s really stubborn about overcoming his addictions or going to the doctor. He just stays in his room, play games and every 2 minutes he would cough and clear his throat very loudly and it drives me insane. I’m too scared to talk to him. 


34. Most visited Website: Youtube/AFF. 

LOST QUESTIONS.

35. Mole/s: Many! I’ve even had some removed...it was my biggest childhood dream to have them gone tbh! 

36. Mark/s: Some!? 


37. Childhood dream: Wanting to be like wonder woman, do every job in the world. I had a whole list of what I wanted to be like an author, doctor, lawyer, singer, artist, director, actress etc. I would count them off my fingers really quickly like my whole life was planned. But growing up, I learnt a few things about the world, myself and my family and I know now that I really want to be a doctor! I still have an interest in many things but I think it would be wonderful to take care and save all the wonderful people I want to be. :) Also publish at least one book in my life! My ultimate life goal! 

38. Hair Colour: Light brown. 

39. Long or short hair: Medium?

40. Do you have a crush on someone: I don’t do crushes. ;) 

41. What do you like about yourself: I am small. 

42. Piercings: Ears! 

43. Blood type: ABO because I don’t know! ^o^  

44. Nickname: Arisu!!!!!!!

45. Relationship status: In a relationship.  

46. Zodiac: Capricorn 

47. Pronouns: She/her

48. Favorite TV Show: Can I say EXO Showtime? I also like Hannibal! I really wanna get into House of Cards or Game of Thrones lmao. 

49. Tattoos: No....t yet. 

50. Right or left hand: Right. 

51. Surgery: Dental surgery?

52. Hair dyed in different color: Yes! My favourite was red, I will go back to it soon. :> 

53. Sport: Running! Track and field with my super short legs! 

54. Vacation: Seoul?

55. Pair of trainers: 3. 

MORE GENERAL:

56. Eating Currently: A starburst. 

57. Drinking currently: Nothing but I should drink some water. Stay hydrated everyone! 

58. I’m about to: go workout! 

61. Waiting for: sleep! 

62. Want: turn my dreams into reality! 

63. Get married: yes!? I grew up watching this TV sitcom where there’s this really rich lady who married 8 rich husbands. I joke to my mum that I will be like her. 


64. Career: Something medical, something literary. 

WHICH IS BETTER

65. Hugs or kisses: Hugs! Warm bear hugs. :>


66. Lips or eyes: Eyes. I wonder what Kaisoo would choose lmao. 

67. Shorter or taller: Taller. I’m really not asking for much because I’m super smol. 


68. Older or younger: Older? 


70. Nice arms or nice stomach: Nice stomach? 

71. Sensitive or loud: Loud like Baekhyun please! 


72. Hook up or relationship: 
Relationship pls. 

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: Trouble maker. 

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: nope! ^o^ 

75. Drank hard liquor: nope! ^o^ 

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: nope! ^o^ 

77. Turned someone down: yep!

78. Sex in the first date: nope! ^o^ 

79. Broken someone’s heart: yes. 

80. Had your heart broken: yes, it’s karma. :)

81. Been arrested: nope! hopefully never! 


82. Cried when someone died: yep! 

83. Fallen for a friend: yep! 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: it’s a tough journey getting there but eventually yes. 

85. Miracles: yes
! always having hope.

86. Love at first sight: Yes! But I think the Japanese phrase “Koi no Yokan” describes how I see it better, “The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love.” 

87. Santa Claus: no. T^T 

88. Kiss in the first date: yep! :> 

89. Angels: I think people can be like angels. I also have this silly thought that I have a guardian angel these days. 

OTHER:

90. Current best friends’ names: Toby, Zeri 

91. Eyecolor: Dark brown! 

92. Favorite movie: Classic list - Her, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, A Beautiful Mind, Oldboy, The Handmaiden, Amelie 

[betwixt-these-pages]

Lost Girls, by Merrie Destefano Publication Date: January 3, 2017 Publisher: Entangled Teen

Yesterday, Rachel went to sleep listening to Taylor Swift, curled up in her grammy’s quilt, worrying about geometry. Today, she woke up in a ditch, bloodied, bruised, and missing a year of her life.

She doesn’t recognize the person she’s become: she’s popular. She wears nothing but black.

Black to cover the blood.

And she can fight.

Tell no one.

She’s not the only girl to go missing within the last year…but she’s the only girl to come back. She desperately wants to unravel what happened to her, to try and recover the rest of the Lost Girls.

But the more she discovers, the more her memories return. And as much as her new life scares her, it calls to her. Seductively. The good girl gone bad, sex, drugs, and raves, and something darker…something she still craves—the rush of the fight, the thrill of the win—something she can’t resist, that might still get her killed…

The only rule is: There are no rules.

Purchase Links: Amazon.com  | B&N | iBooks | Kobo Amazon.com.au | Amazon.com/uk | Amazon.ca 

Excerpt:

Chapter One

I remember last night perfectly.

I know what we ate for dinner. I know my little brother didn’t do his homework. I know Dad drove me to my ballet lessons, then waited for me in the Starbucks across the street.

I know that, later in the evening, I fell asleep when I was supposed to be studying geometry, my earbuds in while I listened to Taylor Swift’s latest album.

That was my yesterday.

The problem is, everyone, from my parents to my teachers to the police, says that stuff didn’t happen yesterday.

It happened last year.

I went to sleep with music playing, curled up on my bed, and wrapped in the afghan Grams knitted for me when she was on chemo.

I woke up in a ditch, half-buried in a pile of leaves. I was shivering and wet, a soft rain falling, icy drops hitting me in the face and running down my neck. Trees towered overhead, black branches scratching the sky, wind howling, and from somewhere nearby came the muted sounds of traffic.

I sat up, confused and scared, grogginess giving way to an intense adrenaline rush.

Then I screamed, louder than I thought I could. The sound ripped out of my lungs and wouldn’t stop; it went on and on until I thought I would collapse because I knew I couldn’t breathe and scream at the same time. And then—when I was sure I would fall forward, bent over at the waist, my lungs empty and spots dancing before my eyes—then I found some way to yell

again. At first my shouts were primal and there were no words, just terror and pain and a black pit in my stomach that wouldn’t allow me to have conscious thoughts.

I began to cry the same thing, over and over.

“Help! Somebody help me!”

I tried to stand, but the gully was so slanted that I kept falling back to my knees, every stumble forcing me to become aware of another injury—the raw skin on my wrists and ankles, covered with dried blood and stinging with each drop of rain; the muscles in my legs sore and weak, like I’d been running for days; the soles of my feet aching, my tennis shoes ripped and stained with mud.

I stretched out my arms, latching onto tree roots to gain my balance, and I pulled myself up the incline, foot by foot. Fingers now coated with mud, I perched on the edge of a highway, nearly blinded by headlights whenever a car sped past.

There I stood, waving my arms and screaming again, not knowing that my hair was matted or that there was blood and dirt on my clothes or that my photo had been on the news for the past two weeks.

Lost girl. Disappeared on her way home from school. Anyone with information, please contact the Santa Madre police department.

Two cars drove past, headlights splashing me with brilliant light. I hadn’t realized until now that the sun tipped on the edge of the world, ready to disappear, or that twilight shadows were already stretching across the horizon. Great pockets of violet darkness yawned between each pair of lights that hurtled toward me, greedy fingers of darkness that wanted me to tumble back into that gully and remain hidden.

Please, somebody stop and help me.

I was screaming again and some sort of weird survival panic took over.

I walked into the middle of the two-lane southbound road and stood there.

Go ahead, run me over. I dare you.

Wait, what was I doing?

Several cars spun to a stop, skidding sideways, tires squealing, metal crashing metal and rubber burning. The old me, the girl who fell asleep listening to Taylor sing about a broken heart, never would have done this. What was wrong with me?

My heart thundered in my chest, but I refused to move, even when the wreckage screeched closer and closer, fenders crunching, bumpers twisting, windshields shattering. I stared all the passengers in the eye, glancing from one face to the next, coolly noting that none of them were hurt—nothing beyond a bump or a bruise.

You. Will. Stop. And. Help. Me.

Still the wreckage surged forward. I merely lifted one hand, palm up, signaling for them to stop. Like I was a traffic cop or something.

Everything finally slid to a stop, a few feet away from me.

Tears coursed down my cheeks and I began to shake uncontrollably. I sank to my knees, truly myself again. Frightened and alone and lost.

“Help me,” I begged, then buried my face in my hands.

Car doors opened: a strange cacophony of voices tumbled out, some yelling, some speaking in hushed tones.

“What’s going on?”

“Is that the missing girl from the news?”

“9-1-1, we have an emergency here—”

“Honey, you’re gonna be okay, don’t worry—”

An elderly woman with white hair and bright, pink lipstick pulled me close and draped her coat over me. When I glanced up I saw blood on her forehead, but she didn’t seem worried about herself. She smiled down at me, her face a map of connected wrinkles.

“We’re gonna get you home to your parents,” she said. “Do you want to call them?” She handed me her cell phone, but my fingers were shaking too much to dial. I told her the number and she punched it in, waiting while it rang. When a voice answered on the other end, the white-haired woman said, “I have someone who wants to talk to you.” Then she handed me the phone.

“Hello? Who is this?” It was my mom, a frantic tone in her voice that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

My words came out shaky, with long pauses between.

“Mom?”

Neither one of us could talk, not for a long time, because we were both crying. Then she finally whispered my name, like it was a magical word that could change the world.

“Rachel? Rachel, baby, where are you?”

I looked around. “I don’t know.”

“You’re on the 39, just north of Azusa,” the white-haired woman told me.

Flashing lights spun in the distance and sirens blared. An ambulance and a fire truck and two police cars were headed toward us. I blinked at the brightness, shielding my eyes with one hand.

“Rachel? Are you still there?” It was my father’s voice now, calling me back to the cell phone.

I pressed it against my ear. “Daddy?”

“Honey, when the ambulance gets there, you get inside and you stay there. Do you hear me? Don’t get in a car with anyone else!”

“I will—I mean, I won’t. I’ll go with the paramedics.” My teeth were chattering and I was shivering so much I could hardly hold the phone. I think I may have started talking gibberish, half-sentences with little meaning. I remember saying something about my geometry test and worrying that I wouldn’t make it to class tomorrow and I may have mentioned something about my biology class, too, because Dad interrupted me.

“Rachel, are you talking about the class you took with Miss Wallace?”

“Yeah. She always gives exams on Wednesday.”

There was a long silence. I wondered if we had gotten cut off. Meanwhile, the ambulance doors opened and someone wheeled a stretcher toward me.

“Honey, you had geometry with Miss Wallace last year. When you were a sophomore.”

I frowned. “But I’m a sophomore now.”

“Baby girl, you’re a junior. Don’t worry about it. All this will get straightened out when you get home—”

I dropped the phone. My hands were shaking too much to hold it. I glanced down at my hands, at the chipped red nail polish. But I hadn’t been wearing nail polish last night and I never use this color. I turned my hands over and discovered a tattoo on my inner wrist.

A tattoo?

Always and forever. That’s what it said. But there was no redness or swelling. I didn’t get this tattoo anytime recently.

The paramedics helped me onto the stretcher, and then the world was rushing past me, rain falling on my face, people staring down at me as the stretcher wheeled by, the air thick with the smell of oil and gasoline and burned rubber. Then another smell came suddenly and violently—a memory.

A thick, cloying scent of pine and cedar.

My stomach lurched and I couldn’t stop.

I started screaming again.

Check out the TOUR SCHEDULE here!

Giveaway Information:

Blog Tour: All prizes listed below will be given to one prize winner. Prizes listed are for a US winner only; if an International winner is chosen, the prize will be a $50 Amazon gift card. • 1 – Kindle Fire Tablet, black: 7″ Display, Wi-Fi, 8 GB, 1.3 GHz quad-core processor, with the Alexa cloud-based voice service—just press and ask. • 1 – digital Kindle copy of LOST GIRLS • 1 – Pack of 14 vintage-style Swan Lake postcards • 1 – pr. Black Swan earrings, handmade by author • 1 – “Always” temporary tattoo

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About the Author:

CURRENTLY A FULL-TIME NOVELIST and magazine editor, Merrie Destefano’s next novel, LOST GIRLS, releases on January 3, 2017. Her other novels include AFTERLIFE and FEAST, both published by HarperCollins, and FATHOM, which was self-published. The editor of Victorian Homes magazine, she has also been the editor of American Farmhouse Style, Vintage Gardens, and Zombies magazine, and was the founding editor of Cottages & Bungalows magazine.

With 20 years experience in publishing, she worked for a variety of publishing/broadcasting companies that include Focus on the Family, The Word For Today, and PJS Publications (now Primedia). Besides editing and writing, her background includes print buying, writing/producing radio promos, directing photo shoots, developing new products, writing jacket copy for books, creating sales media packets and organizing direct mail campaigns.

Born in the Midwest, she currently lives in Southern California with her husband, two German shepherds, a Siamese cat and the occasional wandering possum. Her favorite hobbies are reading speculative fiction and watching old Star Trek episodes, and her incurable addiction is writing. She loves to camp in the mountains, walk on the beach, watch old movies, listen to alternative music—although rarely all at the same time.

Website |Twitter |Facebook | Tumblr | Instagram | Pinterest | Blog

Quick Reasons: life ruiner alert!; this book swept me up in a tidal wave of emotion, and refused to let go; awesome use of unreliable narrator; the mystery and intrigue was so beautifully-written and complex; this is a race head-first toward an explosive ending, and I adored every second of it; I need more of Merrie Destefano’s writing in my life

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life-ruiner

fishing for more

devoured it

entertaining

heartbreaker

Huge thanks to Merrie Destefano, Entangled: Teen, Netgalley, and the crew at Chapter by Chapter for granting me free access to a digital ARC of this title in exchange for an honest review! This in no way altered my read of or opinions on this book.

After TWO MONTHS of no 5 Penguin reads…I’m closing out 2016 with a very high note. It’s New Years Eve for another hour, penguins (or at least, it is for another hour where I’m living now), and I’ve just closed the page on this read…and let me tell you, it was QUITE the whirlwind journey. I started this read this afternoon, thinking I’d get partway through it as this review goes live next week on my blog…and found myself instead finishing it off in one sitting. And OH, my heartstrings. This book? This book is life-ruiner material, and it RUINED me.

  So let’s talk nitty gritty, yes? I promise, I’m going to do my VERY VERY best to stray away from the icky spoilers territory…hopefully I can manage to convey how much I enjoyed this book, and the reasons why, without dropping some huge spoiler bomb or other. Hopefully. So…characters first, yes? Rachel is possibly one of the BEST, most effectively-written characters suffering from memory loss I’ve encountered in books in recent years. While I know this is a bit of a cliche trope…Merrie Destefano handles it so beautifully and makes it SO realistic, you’ll find yourself racing toward the answers instead of feeling bogged down by what little you actually know.

The focus on relationships throughout is also astounding and deliciously done. There’s a thin line between trust and paranoia that gets played on throughout this read, especially in Rachel’s case. She is, for all intents and purposes, the perfect unreliable narrator–and that makes it so easy for readers to both be enthralled by her, while also side-eyeing her. I give HUGE kudos to Merrie Destefano for managing this so beautifully; humans are complex and confusing creatures even on our best days, so adding in memory loss and internal conflicts only heightened such vast emotions.

  I was blown away by the complexity of this read, penguins. Rachel–and her relationships with those around her–goes through so many shifts and changes, so many trials and tribulations, you’ll find yourself biting your nails, sitting on the edge of your seat, needing the answers as much as being scared of them. And the ending! The ending was just… I have to admit, I didn’t see where the plot was going until we were already on the downhill track and racing fast to the crashing point. This book surprised me–immensely. That’s not such an easy thing to do, in my world.

I am just… Speechless, might be the closest way to explain how this book left me after the close. Merrie Destefano explored some heavy-handed, important subjects (which I won’t get into, because SPOOOOOILERS, people) and wrote a complex, beautifully engaging whirlwind of emotions and life-ruination. I definitely recommend this to lovers of contemporary novels with huge bite, strong-willed characters who know how to keep fighting, and life-ruining reads that will leave them thinking, “woah.” THIS is one book you don’t want to miss out on in 2017; pick it up, and let the fight for survival begin!

  Blog Tour, Excerpt, Giveaway, and Review: Lost Girls Lost Girls, by Merrie Destefano Publication Date: January 3, 2017 Publisher: Entangled Teen Yesterday, Rachel went to sleep listening to Taylor Swift, curled up in her grammy’s quilt, worrying about geometry.

[floraexplorer]

How to Play Tejo – Colombia’s National (Drunken) Sport

An introduction to tejo, Colombia’s best sport you’ve never heard of.

Of all the drinking games you’ve played in your life, how many have involved gunpowder?

Over the years, Colombians have readily adopted a game called tejo as their national sport. It’s an alcohol-fuelled event which feels like a mix between bowling and shot-put, but with added firecrackers thrown in. I played a grand total of three games of tejo while I travelled through Colombia, and became increasingly enamoured of the sport each time.

So welcome to the world of Colombian tejo. Because why not spend your evenings throwing metal at explosives while drinking beer?!

What exactly does a tejo game look like?

Games of tejo are usually played in a barn or big warehouse, commonly called a ‘cancha de tejo‘ (a tejo court or arena). These canchas are dotted all over Colombia: they’re modest spaces when found in cities, and pretty basic in the more rural areas, with dirt floors, chickens wandering around, and often built on the land behind local bars.

All around the space, men sit and drink beer as their friends throw metal discs at boxes of clay. Occasionally there’ll be an explosion – and everyone cheers, because that means more points!

Confused? That’s understandable. Allow me to explain.

This is what a tejo board looks like.

The aim of the game is to throw a heavy metal disc, called a tejo, from about 20 metres away towards a tray of mud, which is called a cancha. There’s a metal ring called a bocin embedded into that mud; you can just about see it, as the bocin is half-buried under the surface.

And those little triangular paper packets dotted in the mud? They’re called mecha. They’re all touching the metal bocin, and they’re all filled with gunpowder.

So when the metal tejo successfully hits the metal bocin with a mecha in the middle of it… BANG!

Scoring points in a tejo game

Officially, there’s a point system when playing tejo (although plenty of games will descend into an explosive throwing party – and that’s just fine!).

For a maximum of 9 points, you’re aiming to land your tejo in the middle of the metal ring and to simultaneously explode a mecha. If you land inside the bocin with no explosions, you get 6 points, and any throw resulting in an exploding mecha scores you 3 points.

Tejo is played in rounds, so at the end of each round the person who’s landed closest to the bullseye also gets a single point. The first person to make it to 21 points wins the game!

But how on earth did this game start? Well, since you asked…

The history of tejo in Colombia

The game of tejo is native to Colombia and dates back to the 15th century. The internet has a few conflicting theories about its origins but most seem to agree that it’s based on an indigenous game from the Turmeque region of Colombia in Boyaca. However, the tendency for tejo players to drink copious amounts of beer while playing has lent it something of a seedy air, and tejo has historically been regarded as a lower-class game.

It’s only recently that the Colombian government have actively attempted to re-invent tejo’s reputation as a serious sport with a rich history. The game was declared Colombia’s national sport in 2000, and the Colombian Federation of Tejo has established tejo leagues and national championships which involve strict rules and uniformed players.

And yet the most typical and most revered form of tejo (particularly amongst foreign visitors) is still located in a dusty warehouse with the sound of clinking beer bottles adding to the explosions of gunpowder.

For those backpacking in Colombia, Tejo’s popularity is definitely on the rise.

There’s a buzz around the game; plenty of moments in hammocks or around hostel tables amongst the beers when someone mentions tejo and a chorus of, “OHH it’s so fun!” erupts. Travellers always want to find the secret, relatively unknown activity or destination, and if you haven’t yet played tejo, you immediately get the sense that it’s a necessity – something to tick off your Colombian bucket list.

Read more: Everything I’ve learned about backpacking Colombia – the ultimate guide

Tips for playing tejo in Colombia

– Everyone is welcome to play tejo. A few google searches led me to various travellers wondering if they were allowed to play themselves, or whether it’s just a ‘foreigners-can-only-watch’ kind of game. Let me dispel the myth right here: tejo is a game open to anyone and everyone!

– That said, tejo is a group sport. It wouldn’t be much fun to play tejo on your own, so rally a group together before heading to a game (luckily most travellers I met in Colombia were always intrigued about playing tejo).

– Be happy to drink beer. Playing a game of tejo is usually free – as long as you buy a crate of beer for your group. Many of Colombia’s beer brands sponsor the tejo courts so you’ll see swathes of advertising and branding for Aguila, Costano, and Poker beers all over the place.

– Actually, prepare to drink A LOT of beer. It’s traditional in tejo to take a drink with every toss, and getting drunk is essentially part of the game. As long as some members of your group like drinking beer, you’ll be fine. However, the general rule is that groups arrive wanting to drink a lot, so if you’re nursing just one crate for a few hours then you may well be ousted from the cancha to make room for keener beer drinkers.

– Bring cash to pay for said beer. Tejo is not a credit card game. Most tejo courts are in poorer neighbourhoods, and the chance of a nearby ATM is minimal.

– Keep your wits about you, and don’t get hit in the head. The drunker you get (and those around you get), the less concerned you’ll be about heavy weights whizzing past your head. Within your drunken haze, try to remember they’re being thrown by equally drunk people and keep your head and body out of harm’s way as much as possible.

— Be prepared for surprises. What with the cheering, the explosions, and the sound of a heavy weight landing in various places, tejo can be something of a sensory overload. Don’t go if you scare easily at loud noises!

— Learn which arm you throw best with. A tejo weighs about 500 grams so it’s actually pretty heavy to lift and throw on a regular basis. Consider lifting some weights prior to your tejo match in order to properly prepare for the game.

– Remember to flatten down the clay. Sometimes the tejo makes large dents in the clay when it lands, and it can be difficult to extricate. Don’t be afraid to dig your hands in to retrieve your muddy tejo, but try to flatten down the clay afterwards to make a smooth surface for the next player. Occasionally there will be a kind Colombian who does this for you with a special smoothing tool. Be nice to him – he has an important job.

– You WILL get wet clay everywhere. The tejo can easily get covered in large lumps of clay, which is why there are usually burlap sacks around the area to wipe the tejo down with. Try to avoid wiping your hands on your clothes if you can help it. Sadly, playing tejo has the mysterious power to cover you in mud even if you’re particularly careful. Embrace the mud, and drink another beer. You can always shower later.

– Speaking Spanish will endear you to your fellow Colombian tejo players. It’s not a necessity to speak Spanish in order to play tejo, but if you’re in the middle of the countryside it would be useful. Plus being able to whoop and cheer in Spanish will make proceedings much more fun.

Ultimately the beer and the explosions will do the talking for you though.

Right, I understand the rules – where can I play tejo? 

There are plenty of ‘canchas de tejo’ (tejo games) all over Colombia, but these are the three I tried:

How to play tejo in Palomino – beginner level

We’d seen this poster a few times while wandering along the highway close to Palomino on the Caribbean coast, and eventually I suggested checking out the ‘Mini-Tejo’ games they they advertised. The huge ‘Aguila Light’ beer logo was also a strong convincing element.

After following the signs, we found ourselves in an old Colombian man’s back garden. It was mid-afternoon, right in the midst of that soporific heat which warrants siesta time, so there was no-one else around to hear us hurling tejos at a couple of boxes filled with sticky grey clay and whooping with excitement whenever we hit gunpowder. This guy had something of an outdoor menagerie: clucking chickens, tiny kittens, and a collection of dogs trotting around, yet none of them seemed concerned by the sound of explosions.

A major plus point about playing rural ad-hoc tejo at someone’s house was that this enterprising Colombian had shrewdly remembered to install an outdoor fridge in close proximity to his cancha de tejo. We duly paid for a couple of beer bottles each, at his request, and then spent the next few hours taking turns to step cautiously through the chicken coop to a rickety outdoor toilet as the beers rushed through us.

Sadly I have no photos of this experience. I guess I was enjoying myself too much! We had no idea what we were doing and invented our own tejo rules because our host didn’t seem all that bothered – and I guess neither were we.

Result: A pretty easy and non-pressured first experience of tejo on the Colombian coast! 

Read more: Exploring the Colombian coast in Palomino

How to play tejo in Salento – intermediate level

My second experience of tejo was much more traditional: played at night at a real cancha de tejos at the Los Amigos Club in Salento.

I was still amongst foreigners though.

At some point during my stay in Salento, this flyer somehow made its way into my possession. I can’t remember now whether I picked it up in the hostel or someone gave it to me in the streets of Salento but one sentence stood out above all else:

“Beer is mandatory for the game!”

With my coastal tejo experience firmly under my belt, I gathered up a keen group of backpackers at our hostel and together we headed for Los Amigos in the centre of town. I sauntered in confidently – and then was confronted by dozens of tipsy Colombian cowboys.

All my confidence ebbed away.

Luckily, Los Amigos wasn’t half as daunting as my mind first interpreted. Once the obligatory staring had occurred (not a huge amount, either, seeing as most of these men were drunk), we established ourselves at our designated cancha and attempted to play.

Of course, barely any of us knew what we were doing, which soon became overtly obvious to the Colombians around us. And if you know anything about Colombian hospitality, it won’t surprise you to learn that they stepped in to help.

The night dissolved into a combination of being directed by other players, listening to shouted Spanish advice from across the hall, and general merriment between gleeful cowboys, elderly farmers and excitable backpackers. Eventually we were playing just like the tejo pros. Or it felt like we were, at least.

Result: a new understanding that Colombians love to help foreigners with playing tejo! 

Read more: Cowboys and coffee farms in Salento, Colombia

How to play tejo in Bogota – expert level

My third and final attempt at tejo was one afternoon in Bogota. I’d been driving around the city while working on a filming project with my Colombian friends, and after a somewhat boozy lunch they suggested we head for a tejo game.

I was in the hands of experienced tejo players, and it showed. One of my friends went straight off to buy the requisite beer crate (it was about 3pm at this point) and I watched in awe as the others set up the gunpowder packets, stood back, and took aim.

No messing. We were in real tejo territory here. So much so that the camera was completely forgotten about in favour of our game.

It was one of my last days in Colombia – actually, one of my last in South America in general – and the afternoon quickly became a blur with every new Aguila beer I drank. My main memory from this final tejo match is of a lot of laughter, although I don’t know if that’s because I played particularly well, or particularly badly.

I’m going to pretend it was the former.

Result: a game of tejo can be taken seriously when played exclusively with Colombians. Tejo will, however, always involve getting drunk. And that’s the beauty of it.

Where can I find a tejo game in Colombia?

Tejo in Bogota:

There are quite a few places to play tejo in Bogota. Unfortunately I can’t find the address of my place, but here’s a selection of others:

– Club de Tejo 76: Barrio Unidos, Carrera 24, #76-56

– Club de Tejo 77: Barrio Unidos, a block away from Club de Tejo 76 above and a smaller venue

– Club de Tejo San Miguel: Barrio Unidos, Carrera 26, #78- 20

– Club Social y Deportivo de Tejo El Porvenir del Norte: San Fernando neighbourhood, Carrera 57ª, #74A-33

– Club de Tejo La Veleñita: Calle 130, #58B-35B

Tejo in Medellin:

The tejo courts are inside the Estadio Polideportivo Sur, a football stadium in Envigado which is a 15-30 minute drive away from Parque Lleras in El Poblado.

If you make an independent visit, walk through the main gate with the stadium on your left. Turn left once you’ve passed the playground. Keep walking straight with the stadium on your left and a football field on your right; once you’ve passed the field, you’ll see the tejo court.

Alternatively you can play tejo as part of an organised tour with Chris Cajoleas, who has lived in Medellin for over five years and is an official member of the Tejo League in Antioquia. He runs tours with Tejo in Medellin, which will take you and a group of fellow gunpowder enthusiasts to a cancha de tejo in Medellin. Day tours are Tuesday to Friday, and social nights are publicised on the group’s ‘Tejo in Medellin’ Facebook page.

Tejo in Salento:

As mentioned above, I had a great time playing at Los Amigos. It’s four blocks from the main square on Carrera 4, #3-32

Tejo in Cali:

The Club Social Los Amigos is on Calle 49 # 8a-23. It’s near the La Base Aerea (the Air Force base) and opens Tuesday to Saturday from 3:00 p.m.

NB: this is where Antony Bourdain filmed a segment for his TV show ‘Parts Unknown’. You can watch him play here:

Have you ever played tejo in Colombia? Would you like to throw metal at gunpowder?

The post How to Play Tejo – Colombia’s National (Drunken) Sport appeared first on Flora The Explorer.

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[danielstolz]

Danny’s Best Games of 2018

Here we go again. 2018 was a very transformative year for me, taking new turns, exploring new areas, and finding the new me. It was a year full of beautiful human-constructed chaos, which left everyone of us wanting to escape the real world. And we all know that the best possible way of escape is: dru... Eh, I mean video games!

2018 was a weird year for gaming. It seemed like everyone was sleeping and secretly working on something big while releasing just filler-titles. AAA-games were either non-existent or more of the same action-openworld shtick we’ve seen a hundred times. I was rather disappointed by the big players this year.

But the Indie scene flourished. It’s like someone opened the floodgates and all the creative small gems suddenly started rushing in. I’ve played around 20 games this year and I still have 30 games left that I want to check out, mainly indies of course. So as always: If your favorite game isn’t on the list, probably I didn’t play it, or I played it and it just sucks. As easy as that. Here we go:

10. Bad North

The RTS. A long forgotten genre that seemed to be dead for the last few years. It used to be one of the biggest genres back in the days and then suddenly publishers decided that Its just a niche-thing. But it’s slowly being resurrected by MOBAs and bite-sized strategy games like Bad North. This little Gem is polished to perfection. Bad North is a randomly generated RTS in which you try to defend tiny but gorgeous islands from incoming boats of enemies. The beauty of this game comes in its simplicity. There’s only 3 types of units and the only thing you have to do is positions them accordingly. Sounds simple, but it gets nerve-wrecking really fast, especially when you only have 2 units left and 5 boats are approaching. Bad North gives you a few tools and you need to improvise strategies on the spot often having to compromise. Tightly designed and visually striking, Bad North is the finest indie-RTS I’ve played.

9. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

Smash Bros used to be a fun party game where you could beat your friends up, but over the years it turned into something much bigger. Not only is Smash celebrating the history and legacy of Nintendo, it also celebrates the entire medium itself. It shows us the best of videogames, having a blast with your friends, or honing your skills online for the next big tournament. Everybody can enjoy this game and when creator Masahiro Sakurai said “Everyone is here!” not only did he mean the characters from franchises across the entire medium, he also meant people from all different kinds of backgrounds. This is a game where a professional veteran can have a great time with someone who never even held a controller in his hand. The best Smash to this date where “Ultimate” isn’t just a marketing term, but an understatement.  

8. Artifact

Artifact is 2 of my favorite things combined: Dota and digital card games. When they first announced it I was skeptical. It seemed like Valve wanted to simply jump on the Hearthstone hypetrain to grab some additional cash. Then I heard that Richard Garfield was going to design it and I was sure that this is going to be something special: and it truly is. Not only is Artifact juiced out the max it’s also one of the best designed card games I’ve played in recent memory. Every decision you make is crucial, and the randomized board and item pool keeps you on your toes even when you seem to have the upper hand. I’ve never felt like I’ve had worse cards than my opponent, which Hearthstone made me feel constantly. Let’s talk about the controversy surrounding Artifact: its cost. You need to pay 20 bucks to play the game which will give a few starter decks and 120 random cards. Additional cards cost you extra. This sounds crazy, but I think this business model helps the game stay competitive, while just being the regular business models for every other non digital card game. People aren’t used anymore to pay for stuff. But hey: they just miss out on the best cardgame of the year.

7. Minit

In an age where games need to be 100+ hours long and have to have a billion dialogue options and a massive storyline with thousands of quests, it’s refreshing to see a game that just oozes simplicity, charm and only takes you a few hours to complete. Minit is that wonderfully delightful game. Every playsession takes you exactly 1min before a curse kills you. Minit takes this little concept and blows it up into a full game, filled with incredibly clever interactions that play with the medium and make up for a wonderful time. Like the old man who takes forever to tell his story... far longer than a minute. Minit not only makes you think, but it makes you think in ways not explored by previous titles. It’s refreshing, lovely and a beautiful contrast to the current trends in gaming.

6. Bloodstained: Curse of the Moon

This is just a Kickstarter bonus game for another Bloodstained coming out in 2019, and it was one of the best games I’ve played this year. Somehow whenever developers take an old NES game-concept and make a modern reimagining of it, it never disappoints. This time it’s Castlevania and it’s the best Castlevania ever made. I’m not kidding, this hidden gem is better than Castlevania 4 and Symphony of the Night. The levels are tightly designed, the difficulty is just right, the game has multiple paths for different playthroughs, the bosses are incredible, the visuals are stunningly beautiful, the sound is crisp, the music is catchy and all that while just being a sideproject for a bigger game.  This is a classic Castlevania like it come out back in the 80s and nails everything right on the head. You can play this through in just one sitting and you won’t be disappointed. Sometimes the only thing you need is a blast from the past.

5. Dead Cells

This action-roguelike finally came out this year and it devoured me. Dead Cells is a loot based 2D-dungeon-crawler that picks you up the beginning and won’t let you go till the end. The gameplay is hypnotizing, running, rolling, fighting your way through hordes of enemies, collecting gear and trying to get closer and closer to the end. A journey filled with failure, triumph and the occasional rage-quit. And after a few hours you realize that you didn’t look at the time and wasted your whole afternoon. Dead Cells captures you with this unbelievable sense of flow, which you can’t escape. Everything feels natural and you really start losing yourself in the combat trying the be faster every run, trying to get an even more ridiculous combo. Dead Cells is a game of flow, a game of mastery, a beautiful exercise for your fingers. And after all those hours you realize that none of it was time wasted.

4. The Messenger

While Bloodstained:Curse of the Moon brought back classic Castlevania, The Messenger seems to reimagine classic Ninja Gaiden. Or does it? The Messenger hides itself under the skin of the recent trend of revivals and throws a curveball at the player. Or should I say a barrage of curveballs, The Messenger is a Metagame a cleverly selfaware exercise in how often you can break the rules, twist the plot, and change the whole game itself. I think this is the game that breaks the 4th wall more often than anything else I’ve ever seen You could even say that there is no 4th wall. The Messenger is all that and in addition it’s a wonderful Ninja Gaiden game. The gameplay is smooth and the Metagame aspects of it make you lose yourself in a game that doesn’t really want to be a game. Sometimes it just wants to be clever, or funny, or it just wants to screw you over and throw another new thing at you that breaks all the rules all over again. I don’t wanna give away too much because this is something you need to experience on your own. What a whacky, weird and gorgeous experience.

3. Yakuza 6

Over 6 games and this is the long awaited and dreaded finale. Yakuza 6 is an example of how to end a show with the most over the top way. I said show because essentially that’s what Yakuza is. The great thing about this show however is that you get to play it, and that you probably will get off track while doing so. I spent hours showing off my skills at the mahjongg parlor, after beating a street gang that tried to harass a girl and his boyfriend, afterwards I flirted with a bunch of hostesses, created a clan and then got dragged in a big Yakuza conspiracy while trying to defend my baby from being murdered. I didn’t make that up. That just happened. Yakuza 6 turns it down a notch, however, there are less playable characters, less minigames, less plot-twists, less of everything to be honest, all this in order to serve the main story which is the star of this show. One character means more focus and more finesse. While Yakuza 0 was all about the twists, Yakuza 6 offers a thrilling, heart gripping story that resolves the whole narrative in such an epic and iconic way that It’s hard to stop playing. Yakuza 6 is a masterclass in building up tension and never letting it go. You’ll get sidetracked but you don’t want to get sidetracked, you wanna know how the story continues and trust me you have to know.

2. Celeste  

Celeste is a game about depression, a game about atmosphere, and a game of mastery and finally overcoming your own personal problems. Most games tell a story and then there’s gameplay. Celeste tells a story through its gameplay. It’s an example of how to use the medium as a compelling and unique way to tell a story. Not only does Celeste tell a story through its mechanics, but it also invokes an unforgetable atmosphere through the beautiful pixel aesthetic and the ear melting music by Lena Raine. All if this is accompanied by the best designed levels I’ve seen this year, pushing the boundaries of clever level design. Celeste is challenging, but that’s what it wants to be. Showing you how hard it is to deal with personal drama. It certainly helped me a lot and shows how videogames can be much more than entertainment. Celeste is a game I won’t forget.

1. Into the Breach

This game... is a designers wet dream. If you’d asked me if there’s a perfectly designed game, then my answer would be Into the Breach. We started off the list with bite sized strategy and we’ll end with that. Into the Breach is a randomly generated turn-based-puzzlegame, which shines with perfection. What makes it special is that this game has perfect information, meaning that the player knows everything. Every move in Into the Breach has to be perfect and if you make a mistake you cannot blame the game, because you knew everything. You just need to make the right decisions and that is incredibly difficult. Into the Breach may not look like much, but it’s the most tightly designed I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t boast with flashy visuals or a gripping story, Into the Breach knows exactly what it is, and it’s nothing more. A minimalistic yet perfect game that can entertain for hours on end. This is the new golden standard when it comes to gamedesign.

[travelworldnetwork]

Dotted around London, these 13 tiny green sheds are reserved for those with ‘The Knowledge’.

By Ella Buchan

1 May 2018

“We’re a Victorian institution,” black-cab driver Henry announced proudly, tugging on his tartan cap. It was a grey mid-morning in London and I was squeezed in a small green shed behind a narrow, U-shaped table. Surrounding me were a cluster of taxi drivers who slurped on mugs of tea and shovelled in forkfuls of scrambled egg and sausage.

This diminutive shed in Russell Square is where the keepers of London’s secrets gather – the black-cab drivers whose minds are mapped with every inch of the city. It’s one of 13 cabmen’s shelters remaining in the capital, and only licensed drivers who have passed The Knowledge test – memorising every street, landmark and route in London – are allowed inside.

View image of Thirteen historical cabmen’s shelters can be found throughout London (Credit: Credit: Chris J Ratcliff/Getty Images)

The idea for the shelters came in the late 19th Century when George Armstrong, a year before he became editor of The Globe newspaper, was unable to hail a taxi during a blizzard because the drivers, who then rode horse-drawn hansom cabs, were huddled in a nearby pub. He teamed up with philanthropists, including the Earl of Shaftesbury, to find a way to keep drivers on the straight and narrow – and off the drink.

The Cabmen’s Shelter Fund was born in 1875, building the first hut in St John’s Wood. It still operates today, though many of the further 60 huts built have since been knocked down.

This is where the keepers of London’s secrets gather

Each hut was built no bigger than a horse and cart, in line with Metropolitan Police rules because they stood on public highways. They provided shelter and sustenance for hackney-carriage (black-cab) drivers, with strict rules against swearing, gaming, gambling and drinking alcohol.

Then came World War I. Drivers and their vehicles were drafted, plunging the cab trade – and the shelters – into decline. “We lost people, cars and horses,” said Gary, one of the cabbies I chatted to at Russell Square.

Unused, unloved and unprotected, the oak huts suffered rot and ruin. Some were destroyed by bombs during World War II, while many were later bulldozed in street-widening schemes.

View image of Built in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries, the green huts provided shelter for the city’s hackney-carriage drivers (Credit: Credit: Edward Gooch/Getty Images)

Now just 13 remain, with 10 in operation. Each is Grade II listed, which means they are considered buildings of special interest and every effort should be made to preserve them. They are owned by the Worshipful Company of Hackney Carriage Drivers (WCHCD), a guild for those who earn their living through the trade. The Cabmen’s Shelter Fund is responsible for upkeep and maintenance, issuing annual licences to those who run them.

“The cab trade is very lonely,” said Colin Evans, a cabbie of 44 years and trustee of the fund. “These are places where you can go and have a tea or coffee with your mates. If drivers don’t support them, they will be lost forever.”

Gary, who often comes here for a tea and a grumble because “everyone’s in the same boat”, added: “I’ve been driving a cab for more than a few years and only recently started using the shelters. I decided, use them or lose them.”

View image of The cabmen’s shelters are no larger than a horse and cart, and only drivers are allowed in (Credit: Credit: Chris J Ratcliff/Getty Images)

Most serve breakfast (sausages, eggs, bacon), sandwiches and hot drinks, with the occasional pie or lasagne cooked by the owners at home and reheated in the skinny kitchens. Non-cabbies aren’t allowed to sit inside – unless issued with a rare invitation – but can order through a window hatch.

“We bring in more money that way,” said Jude Holmes, who runs the kitchen at Russell Square. “I can serve hundreds of people while a driver sits with one cup of tea.”

It’s like their second home

As we sat there, a relentless drizzle outside drew more cabbies through the door, each greeting the others like family members.

“My little gang comes in every day,” Holmes said. “I worry a bit if I don’t see them. It’s like their second home. Sometimes they even make their own tea.” She added that newer drivers are often too intimidated to come inside, preferring to order bacon sandwiches at the window.

“It can feel a bit cliquey at times,” Gary admitted.

View image of Card playing and gambling are prohibited inside London's cabmen's shelters (Credit: Credit: Ella Buchan)

The kettle bubbled, teaspoons clinked against china, and bacon spluttered and sizzled in a pan as talk turned to the cabbies’ biggest bugbears. Being ‘bilked’, for example, when a fare runs off without paying. Struggling to find a public lavatory when on the job is another common groan (the shelters don’t have loos).

Most drivers have other gigs, as musicians, artists, TV producers, even actors. But, they told me, once a cabbie – always a cabbie. “If you retire, you die,” Gary deadpanned.

The anecdotes poured faster than the tea. There’s the tale of ‘Fat Ray’, so huge he squeezes himself behind the wheel each morning and doesn’t budge until he gets home. “He couldn’t come in ’ere,” said Henry, sweeping his hand around the shelter. “He’d never fit through the door!”

View image of Most cabmen’s shelters serve breakfast, sandwiches and hot drinks (Credit: Credit: Chris J Ratcliff/Getty Images)

Evans took me for a spin in his cab, stopping by Temple Place shelter on Victoria Embankment, where a team was fixing damage caused by a lorry.

The shelters’ Grade II status means restoration is intricate and expensive. Refurbishment costs around £30,000, Evans estimated, and replacement materials must match the originals. Even the shade of paint – Dulux Buckingham Paradise 1 Green – is prescribed to mirror the first huts.

They represent a moment in time

Shelters have also been hit by noise restrictions in residential areas, and none currently operate at night – most open around 7:00 and close by 13:00. A hut at Chelsea Embankment has been closed for five years due to parking restrictions, and the fund is considering donating it to the London Transport Museum.

Crucially, said Evans, these tiny huts must not disappear – nor should their history be forgotten. “It’s too easy to get rid of these things. The shelters are unique. They represent a moment in time.”

View image of Jude Holmes also sells snacks to the public through the hatch of the Russell Square shelter (Credit: Credit: Ella Buchan)

It’s true there’s plenty of history packed within their walls. Evans told me that the Gloucester Road shelter was nicknamed ‘The Kremlin’ because it was frequented by left-wing drivers. The since-bulldozed Piccadilly hut was the site of Champagne-fuelled parties in the 1920s and dubbed the ‘Junior Turf Club’ – after an exclusive gentlemen’s club nearby – by (non cab-driver) aristocratic revellers who smuggled in booze.

And according to local legend, a man claiming to be Jack the Ripper once visited Westbourne Grove Shelter.

Physical signs of their history remain. Tenders attached to the bottom of the huts were where drivers tethered their horses before going inside. The animals drank from marble troughs, now gone. Each shelter still has a rooftop vent with ornate carvings – reminders of the wood-burning stoves once used for heating and cooking.

View image of In the Warwick Avenue shelter, shelves are lined with cabbies’ mugs bearing the names of their football teams (Credit: Credit: Ella Buchan)

We continued onto Warwick Avenue shelter, frequented by musicians and actors who live nearby. British mod-rocker Paul Weller, former lead singer of The Jam and The Style Council, often comes to the hatch for a sausage-and-egg sandwich, licensee Tracy Tucker told me.

Tucker, whose husband is a cabbie, has been a shelter keeper for 14 years, moving to this location from Thurloe Place in 2016. The roof was recently re-shingled at a cost of £13,000, financed by the fund.

Inside, the tiny kitchen has a stovetop sizzling with sausages and bacon, a fridge stocked with sandwich fillings and shelves heaving with cabbies’ mugs bearing the crests of their football teams. When someone’s team is relegated or loses a big match, Tucker ties a black ribbon to their mug’s handle in commiseration.

View image of Tracy Tucker, who runs the Warwick Avenue shelter, sees her regulars as family (Credit: Credit: Ella Buchan)

To her regulars, Tucker is family.

“They see me as a big sister,” she said. “If I’m sick, I have to text about 20 people to say the shelter is closed. Some of them won’t know what to do with themselves.”

If we lose this, we lose part of London history

She has her own rules: no staring at mobile phones and no moaning about Uber. “We all know it’s quiet. The trade is dying, and I have thought about what I would do if I had to get another job. I don’t think I could work anywhere else.”

“The little lives that go on in these shelters,” chuckled Evans as we pulled away. “It’s not just the buildings. It’s the characters, too. If we lose this, we lose part of the cab trade’s history and a part of London history. That would be a real shame.”

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The post What’s in London’s secret green huts? appeared first on Travel World Network.

[quantumdotdot]

No Place Like Home Actual Play

Today, I finally had the pleasure of playtesting my game, No Place Like Home! No Place Like Home is a surreal horror/mystery game based on the Blades in the Dark system that focuses on small communities and the secrets they keep behind closed doors. It's inspired by stuff like Twin Peaks and Silent Hill. I had a lot of fun creating a weird town and exploring it, and wanted to do a write-up of the game for posterity, along with my notes about it.

GM/Facilitator: Me (Mikey Zee)

Players: DC, Felix, Halogen (who sadly had to drop out after worldbuilding), and Adam/DarkLavenderVoid

Play method: Roll20 Virtual Tabletop

Worldbuilding & Character Creation

The Town

Playtest Design Notes: town creation worked so, so well. It flowed really well once we had a location (sea-side town, vaguely East Coast), and the questions I’d set up in my playtest document worked really well as a jumping-off point to continue building. There was a lot of great energy, and we kept building on ideas and creating locations like you see here. This took us about 30 minutes total, which was about what I expected. It was about at this point that Halogen had to drop out, and Adam joined.

Tragedy - What Happened in the Town that Caused Things to Go Downhill

Suddenly all the fish in the bay are dead, leaving no more fishing industry. Old Man McGrady was the first to notice, but no one believed him when he said anything. Soon, fishermen were hauling in nets of decaying fish, leaving the tourism and hospitality industries as the town’s only income.

The Characters

Felix - Nes Morris, a junior mailman who works at the post office operated by his dad. His dad used to own the old arcade, and Nes wants to refurbish the arcade. Nes sees his dad as having failed, and he wants to prove that the arcade is a good idea, actually, and his dad was the one who was a failure. Nes likes to think of himself as a teen but he’s actually just over 20, yet still dresses like a teenager did 5 years ago. His dad named him Nes because he thought naming his son a video game word was cool and futuristic, and would help him succeed in life.

Adam - Mónica Lupe, aka Mo, a 30-something gas tanker trucker who is in and out of Sandy Bay. She may drive a gas truck but she refuses to go to the shitty gas station off the highway because people are rude there, however, she’s friendly with the folks at the convenience store in town. Mo wants to ride the line between complete social outcast and having a couple friends, and has gotten rid of her family name because it got misspelled, mispronounced, and got her teased.

DC - Owen Peterson, a 19-year-old clerk for the convenience store in the middle of town. Owen wants to save up enough money to leave because he got accepted to a college, but he’s sticking around to help his family out and hoping he can still save up. Owen is irrationally afraid of people with different-colored eyes, because he read about them once and got spooked. Even though he knows it’s an irrational fear, the thought of meeting someone with the mutation fills him with dread. Owen feels responsible for people in general, and often delivers stuff from the convenience store to old man McGrady in the evenings 2-3 times a week, like cigarettes, beef jerky, and whatever weird stuff the old man needs. In return, McGrady has an open ear to tell stories and conspiracies he’s been thinking about. Owen also orders comic books for the convenience store, and getting to read them is the one thing he looks forward to every week.

Playtest Design Notes: Character creation seemed like it didn’t flow as well as I had hoped it would. Folks took their own time to come up with good, personal answers for the questions posed, which is awesome! However, I could’ve done better by giving them space to write out their thoughts and making that more explicit. We were playing in Roll20 and I just started with a blank canvas and moved on from there, but I know now that giving the players index cards or something that they feel like is theirs will probably help a lot in that regard if I don’t have character sheets. It’s something I rectified later in play.

How They Know Each Other

Nes and Owen went to school together (they were in the same year) and bonded over comic books and video games. Nes has a shelf full of comics in the ruins of the arcade and they read them together. Also, Nes is the one to deliver the new comics Owen orders, as they come by mail.

Mo and Nes met because Mo’s oil truck crashed into Nes’ mail truck on Nes’ first week of driving it. Nes wasn’t paying attention while turning, and even though Mo slammed on the brakes, she wasn’t able to fully stop in time and pushed the mail truck against a pole, slightly dinging the truck. Neither of them wanted to face the repercussions of telling anyone what really happened (as Mo would face paperwork and Nes would have to deal with his dad), so Nes just brushed it off as him having hit a pole. Nes still got chewed out by his dad, but no one was the wiser. Mo offered to pick Nes up to help him with his route (now on bike), but he didn’t accept. There’s a lot of small winding streets, and Nes delivers the mail to the people he doesn’t like last.

Owen and Mo know each other because they struck up a friendship when Mo would come in to get her coffee, and they got to be people that each other could trust mutually, a genuine connection in this town where that’s a rarity. Since then, they’ve started to talk to each other about their problems and their lives. 

How They Feel About the Tragedy

Owen is the town ear; he hears people worrying about it in hushed tones, everyone has their theories but no one has a concrete reason. It’s disturbing because usually there’s a common thread in rumors, but there isn’t to this.

Mo thinks there’s demons in the town, goth is in again and that’s super suspicious, it’s the devil’s fault--Mo relies heavily on Christian stereotypes of what’s evil versus holy.

Nes more worried about the monetary aspect of the fish crisis, almost every single household started getting past-due bills, something else doesn’t smell right.

Playtest Design Notes: How the group knows each other and how they feel about the tragedy flowed super-well once the group had a solid grasp on their characters. I didn’t even have to prompt to talk about how the group knew each other--it was just a natural evolution from character building, which is the kind of thing I was hoping for, and it made me very happy to see as a designer. I thought these two sections really helped to flesh out the characters and how they exist in this world, as well. At this point we were about an hour in, which I felt was the perfect amount of time.

Investigation Begins

What Brought Them Together

Mo originally learned about the fishing industry dying when she overheard Nes and Owen talking about it in hushed tones while she was getting her morning coffee. They agreed to meet later to talk about it in greater detail.

Figuring out “The Mystery”

Later that same day, group meets up at the abandoned bistro of convenience store around 1-2pm. There used to be a cafe here that served sandwiches and coffee, but now people just sit here and drink their coffee, which is just drip machine now. There also used to be phone booths, but those got ripped out a while back.

Nancy, Owen’s boss and the manager of the Convenience Store, hands Owen a bag full of Smucker’s Uncrustable sandwiches she expensed and microwaved for him so he and his friends could have a snack for their meeting, despite the fact that you aren’t really supposed to microwave Uncrustables in their wrappers. Owen grabs the bag and sits down with Mo and Nes, distributing the sandwiches.

“They’re really not so bad once you get past the bread,” he says, trying to make up for the fact that the bread on the outside is slightly hard from microwaving them, and the inside is maybe still a little frozen. “The warm jelly is actually alright.”

Mo wordlessly takes out her own sack lunch, which she’s packed for driving, and takes out the lukewarm ham sandwich she’s made for herself. She eats the Uncrustable first out of principle and doesn’t say anything.

Once they’re done with their lunch, Nes pulls out a stack of bills, along with a registry of names from the Post Office with red marks next to a bunch of them. “Seventy-five percent of the people in the town have been getting these overdue bills,” Nes says, and explains that he only recently realized that there was a pattern and got names for the people, though more and more people have been getting them over time. The group talks about it and decides that there has to be a connection to the fish dying, the fishing industry slowly shuttering, and the debts of the townspeople. Nes says that he wants to check along his route, check peoples’ windows maybe, see what’s up. Mónica asks if she can tag along. Owen says he was due to take some supplies to Old Man McGrady after his shift is over, but asks Mo for a favor--he needs her to buy him some Lindlelof’s Vodka so he can stock the old man up. Mo reluctantly agrees as long as Owen will pay her for it.

The Mystery

What connects the town's debts to the dead fish?

Playtest Design Notes: I wasn’t initially sure how to frame this initial scene, so I deferred to the players, who decided that, after we talked about how they learned about the information and what brought them together, that we could elide that initial scene and just play out them sitting down to talk about the mystery. This was a little bit awkward, and I don’t make a good distinction in the rules--I think it would be better to provide the GM and the players both with a little bit more support in how to narrate their getting together versus their in-character discussion of how to deal with what they know. Blades is very good about cutting to the action, and this game would do well to function similarly.

The Scenes

Playtest Design Notes: We decided at the beginning of the session that it would be better to have each person in a scene roll 1d6, and then the highest result among the characters in a scene would be the result. I like this change a lot and I’ll be changing that in the design doc, as it ensures everyone gets to roll. It makes more sense too--both of the characters agreed on the course of action, so there wasn’t really a “leader.”

Nes and Mo go together to check out the mail route and see what information they can find out about the people on it. Nes is taking his bike since the mail truck is still out of commission, and Mo is jogging behind in athleticwear even though no one really does that in Sandy Bay. It’s fine.

They both roll 1d6, and both fail, and their search directs them to an apartment complex called Windy Peaks Apartments, where the greatest density of people who received the bills is found. It’s also where a lot of folks who work in the boardwalk hospitality live, given its proximity. The buildings look nice from far away--canvas awnings, shingled exterior walls--but up close you can tell the awnings are covered in grime and sea salt, and the green tinge of the shingles is from mold and other growth on them. The complex is generally in a state of disrepair.

Mo goes into the complex first while Nes stays behind to lock his bike. The apartment complex is fairly quiet--no one is really around during the day, it seems. As she walks further into the complex, she notices the door to one of the apartment buildings has been busted open, so she enters. Inside, the building smells like sewage, has astroturf carpet which crunches underneath your feet, and the doors are fake dark wood varnish with brass fake-gold mail slots. There’s a staircase leading up to the 2nd and 3rd floors of the building, but Mo wants to look around to see if there’s a second staircase. She finds a handyman stairwell at the far end of the hallway and goes up it.

Nes walks into the building shortly after she walks up the staircase, sees the door close, shrugs, and goes to check the mail slots to see if there’s anyone who hasn’t taken their mail yet. He crouches down to look into the mail slot, but a big burly man opens the door and asks what in the sam-hill Nes is doing. Nes makes up some bullshit excuse about misdelivering a letter, and the man directs him to the message board where everyone posts information and/or tacks misdelivered letters, then slams the door in his face.

Upstairs, Mo hears the sound of someone crying out in the hallway. She walks out into the hallway to see who it is, and sees a small 8 year old girl sitting in the hall, clutching a letter and sniffling, face tear-stained. As Mo gets closer, she sees that the door to the apartment the girl is sitting in front of has been forced open, and that there is a blank spot where the TV was, along with broken bookcases tossed over, and cabinets open and emptied. The little girl is still wearing her My Little Pony backpack, which is tattered around the edges like it’s a hand-me-down. Mo asks the little girl for her name, and the girl replies Julie. Mo then asks who she’s supposed to call when something bad happens, which causes Julie to start crying again when she admits that they took the phone, and mumbles something about her grandpa before the tears break out again. Mo then says that she has a phone and hands it to Julie, who types in the numbers ‘911’ before looking to Mo for confirmation. Mo nods, and they dial 911.

Meanwhile, Nes has gone outside to hide in a bush and wait to see if anyone comes home. After waiting several minutes, he eventually leaves the bush to sit on the grass next to it. He hears the sound of police sirens, which continue to get louder until a contingent of police cars pull up to the complex in front of him. He sees the officers rush past, and we cut to the police, Mo, and Julie outside the building. Julie is crying as the police comfort her, while another officer asks if she saw the robbery take place and if she could give a statement. Mo says she didn’t see and leaves with Nes as they walk the bike home.

As they walk the bike home, both clearly bummed out that they didn’t get any good information, Mo comments to Nes, "I didn't know you had the gumption to go into doors." Nes just shrugs neutrally and they keep walking. Mo stops by her house to take a chance to rest and have some alone time before they meet up.

(Nes and Mo both give up one token of Stress for the failed roll.)

Meanwhile, Owen has arrived at Old Man McGrady’s with a bag full of various sundries, hoping he can get some information out the old man. He rolls 1d6, and also fails. There’s a sign on the outside of the houseboat that used to say “Gone Fishin’” but now the “Fishin’” part has been crossed off with Sharpie. Underneath it, there’s an arrow pointing to the deck that says “Deliveries.” Owen decides to try and see if he can get inside the houseboat to leave the stuff inside. Once he puts it on the counter and organizes a little, he decides to look around to see if there’s any conspiracy theory stuff or yarnboards that McGrady has out, any information at all. He rolls 1d6 again, and fails again. As he walks into the living space of the house boat, he sees that there’s not a lot that’s nice sitting around--not because McGrady’s poor, but more that he doesn’t care about having things. There’s a lure spinner on the small table which doubles as both workspace and dining table, and a dusty bookshelf that has a few Audobon guides and the like on local birds, fish, and wildlife. Also on the bookshelf is a giant, state-of-the-art safe with both physical and digital locks. The boat is fairly sparse other than that. Owen, lacking any good leads, decides to tidy up things around the boat before leaving.

(Owen gives up two tokens of Stress for the failed rolls.)

When the group meets up again, it’s that evening, and the ruins of the old arcade are thumping with music. The teens who gather there have rigged up an old DDR machine to play music from their iPods, and they are having a breakdancing competition while the music plays. The group enters the back offices of the arcade, and the bass from the music pulses and throbs through the walls. Mo sits on a stack of old, burnt-out CRT monitors that flicker into being from time-to-time, and still show the sprites and scores from their old games. The team decides to take the night to rest and reconvene the next day.

Playtest Design Notes: It was an interesting challenge for me to think up how things could fail from the beginning, and how to make things more interesting than “you don’t get anything.” DC had an idea for a new question he wanted Owen to ask after his failure, which he could articulate as a different and distinct question, which I decided made sense in the moment. I’m not entirely satisfied with how the resolution of failed rolls played out, but it helped me realize some blind spots in my design. More on this below.

Moving between the scenes and the options present after a scene had wrapped felt a little awkward. I think I can restructure the game to make what actions players can take at any given point clearer. As much as I like the way the current game flows when reading it, in play it doesn’t work super great--which is the kind of information I needed from this playtest!

Final Thoughts & Takeaways

Overall, I felt like it went pretty well. We had to break an hour earlier than planned, but we still managed to get what felt like a lot accomplished in the three hours that we played. Other than some stumbling blocks in pacing and roll resolution I’m going to address before we continue this playtest, everything flowed pretty well. I’m really happy to have something that works as a game, rather than just falls apart after closer examination. I was also very lucky to have players who were enthused about the game, which helped too, and which I’m extremely thankful for.

I mentioned I’d bring up the resolution of failed rolls, from both a GMing and game design perspective, because as soon as it happened, I realized a couple blind spots with the game as currently written.

First, I intended to write the text for investigation rolls to be similar to Blades’ Gather Information rolls. For Gather Information, before rolling, the GM asks the player how they’re gathering information, and then the GM determines if there’s a consequence or harm associated. If there is a consequence, the player makes an Action roll, and the result of that roll determines how well the character does as well as any harm or complications they suffer. If the roll is a success, the roll also determines the quality of the information they receive. If there’s no “danger or trouble at hand,” a Fortune roll is made instead. For a Fortune roll, you always get some information, and the roll result determines the quality of information you get. As far as I can tell from the rules, fortune rolls always net you something even if it’s very little.

For Nes and Mo, I should have established the location before having them roll, but when I saw the result, I had vague ideas of how their failures would manifest. Once we did establish the location, I wanted to play out the scene in a similar way to how I would play out a Gather Information roll in Blades. Nes failed, got close to what he wanted (the letters in the door slot), but was rebuffed in the last second. Meanwhile, Mo also didn’t get what she wanted, but got some interesting information regardless about a burglary. I figured what happened here was also kind of similar to a 7-9 result for Spout Lore in Dungeon World.

For Owen, on the other hand, I feel like I goofed it a bit as a GM initially. The result of a roll should never just be “you get nothing”. Sure, a consequence for an Action Roll could be “you lose this opportunity,” but that’s because of that danger or trouble bit.

Where’s the danger or trouble at hand in either of these instances? My thought was the danger or trouble at hand would be that circumstances just don’t line up the way the characters wanted. However, I don’t know that this works super-well for a Forged in the Dark game or feels like a satisfying result. By conflating standard Action rolls and Fortune rolls like I did in my design, I created a circumstance where you could be essentially making a Fortune roll, but you get nothing as a result since in the rules I say “you don’t get what you wanted out of this”, i.e., you get nothing, which is a bit antithetical to Blades’ design. I’m completely okay with characters finding the trail has gone cold, but I need to look at restructuring what that looks like. 

Second, after not finding anything, DC wanted to push on and ask an additional question after his initial failure. Once again, by conflating Action rolls with Fortune rolls and removing Position/Effect, I’ve created a blind spot in the rules. In standard Blades, if you’re acting more or less on your terms (a Controlled position), a failure means that you “press on by seizing a risky opportunity, or withdraw and try a different approach.” If you’re not acting on your terms, then things go badly and there’s a more severe consequence. Here, it makes total sense that Owen would want to press on and try a different approach. However, the rules don’t currently provide any support for the player or the GM in terms of how to handle failure and severity.

In summary, if I want to keep this current version with no Position and Effect and only one type of roll, then I need to be more explicit about creating consequences and how that should work.  The question is, how do I prompt to make those consequences fit the mood I want this game to create? I’ll have to go back to the drawing board on that one, I think.

After all, it makes sense that there would be consequences when you’re snooping around in others’ business, whether they’re severe or mild.

Ironically, by failing, my players helped show the flaws in my initial design more than successes would have!

I’m definitely going to take a hard look at what I felt didn’t work and try to update it for when this group plays again to finish up our exploration of Sandy Bay. I’m excited to find out what happens.

[hamilficsfordays]

I was tagged by @hamimagines (aka my slut sister ❤️ Rules: Answer these 80 questions and tag other people Tagging: Everyone who I was going to tag has already done this so just do it if you feel like doing it I guess? The Last 1. drink: Water (I drink a lot of water)
2. phone call: I can't remember the last time I actually called someone. Does facetime count? Because if so, my people.
3. text message: To my friend Deb "I can do 9-915" (We were discussing my babysitting for her this weekend).
4. song you listened to: 7/11 by Beyonce.
5. time you cried: Monday I think?
6. dated someone twice: hell no I would never go back to any of my exes.
7. kissed someone and regretted it: Yes. First person I ever kissed.
8. been cheated on: Not that I know of, no.
9. lost someone special: Not that I remember?
10. been depressed: haaaaaa when am I not depressed
11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Nope, never. I've gotten super drunk before but I never vomited or blacked out.
12.favorite colors: uhhh pink? Also red? Purple? in the last year have you 13. made new friends: yes
14. fallen out of love: nope
15. laughed until you cried: yes
16. found out someone was talking about you: yes
17. met someone who changed you: yes
18. kissed someone on your Facebook list: i guess? I don't really use facebook but sure? general 19. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: like 99% of them
20. do you have any pets: my people have a dog and i live with them so I guess I have a dog now?
21. do you want to change your name: I used to want to but I kind of like my name now
22. what did you do for your last birthday: got drunk with someone underage in a public park
23. what time did you wake up: Around 7:30
24. what were you doing at midnight last night: sobering up and watching intervention
25. name something you can’t wait for: August
26. when was the last time you saw your mom: Nov 2014 I think?
27. what are you listening to right now: Nothing atm
28. have you ever talked to a person named tom: maybe? Idk
29. something that is getting on your nerves: politics
30. most visited website: tumblr probably
31. hair colour: brown/black
32. long or short hair: mid length
33. do you have a crush on someone: i mean I have a crush on the people I'm dating if that's what you're asking. Also like one other person 💗
34. what do you like about yourself: yeah no
35. piercings: one on each ear
36. blood type: A positive I think? Either that or A negative.
37. nickname: Lex, Lexi, Lexa
38. relationship status: dating two fab amazing people and who knows what else.
39. zodiac: leo
40. pronouns: she/her
41. favourite tv show: uhh Dear White People? Also House of Cards
42. tattoos: maybe someday but not right now
43. right or left handed: right
44. surgery: Never had any
45. sports played: I used to play soccer when I was like 9
46. vacation: I went to the UK back in April/May
47. pair of trainers: uhh what? more general 48. eating: i should stop doing that so much
49. drinking: water or liquor. Or apple juice.
50. i’m about to: go home
51. waiting for: the train
52. want: sex. It's been a while.
53. get married: is that even legal?
54: career: writer/actress 55. hugs or kisses: both?
56. lips or eyes: also both?
57. shorter or taller: a little taller
58. older or younger: older?
59. nice arms or nice stomach: I seriously don't care that much but I do enjoy both
60. hook up or relationship: either or. I'm not picky.
61. troublemaker or hesitant: definitely hesitant have you ever 
62. kissed a stranger: nope
63. drank hard liquor: yes
64. lost glasses/contact lenses: yes
65. turned someone down: yes
66. sex on the first date: nope
67. broken someone’s heart: yes
68. had your heart broken: yep
69. been arrested: i've never had a bad interaction with a cop which is a lot to say as a black person
70. cried when someone died: yes
71. fallen for a friend: yeeeeeeep do you believe in 
72. yourself: sometimes
73. miracles: My relationship is a fucking miracle so i guess
74. love at first sight: no i think you have to know a person
75. santa claus: not for the last 13 years
76. kiss on the first date: I'll kiss before the first date. No date needed.
77. angels: idk maybe? other 
78. current best friend’s name: i have a lot okay
79. eye colour: dark brown
80. favourite movie: Either The Wolf of Wall Street or The Help

[benpalmer-blog1]

Las Vegas

I went to Las Vegas for the first time last week. I had an interesting time. Nothing too crazy or special, but it happened. It was an eerie place to be. Growing up I always saw it as bright lights and nothing else. But you never really see the pictures of what surrounds it. The vast desert and quiet. The drive to Vegas from Los Angeles was beautiful. Lots of mountains, the freedom from traffic. You never see the people on the street, standing on the corner, looking lost. You never see the men and women outside of Walgreen s, asking you for money as you walk back to your car. 

I hung out with my friend Chevy, who lives there. We were at a stoplight when he pointed to one lady on the corner. "That's a gambling addict." He noticed that she looked well nourished and decently clothed, yet she was asking us for money. "She just came from the store." She had a bag in her hand and looked like a pretty normal citizen. Yet there was something that put her out on that stoplight corner that she couldn't control.

They show you the inside of the casinos, but not the outside. They also never show you the casinos off the strip. The quiet casinos with giant parking lots that have more spaces open than spaces filled. That's where we went at about 1AM when I wanted to try my hand at some poker, but didn't want to spend too much money. 20 dollars was my budget that I would allow myself to lose. So in we went.

Chevy went to go sit down by himself at the casino diner. He would wait for me to finish and then we'd leave. That left me and Richard, who came with us after we met at a comedy show that we all performed on together. Richard wandered around the casino until it was time to go. He updated me once on his whereabouts and let me know that the coffee was not free, and that one of the casino employees told him not to touch a pen.

I tried sitting down at one of the tables I could afford. It was a 5 dollar minimum bet and there was only 1 other person sitting there. The other tables were too crowded and I didn't want to squeeze in and sit next to some weirdo and smell their body odor and the alcohol ruminating from their skin.

I offered the dealer my twenty dollar bill and she declined me. I couldn't understand what she was trying to say, though. She just said something like "No, no honey," and that was it. I didn't understand, so I went to ask one of the pit bosses, or the guy in the suit that stands behind the table. I wanted to ask him questions about the betting rules. As I was talking to him another bald pit boss man came and told me that everything was cool but he needed me to not stand in the pit area. I got out of the way. He would later tell me not to bend the cards while I played.

I was flustered and my brain was fatigued. I started to get cranky. I tried to explain to the pit boss that the dealer told me I couldn't play and he was as confused as I was. "So if I give her this 20 dollars, I can play?" "Yes," he told me.

So I sat down again and offered up my twenty dollars to the dealer. She took it this time and gave me my chips. The cards were dealt and there was another guy at the table now. Me, the original guy, and a guy with sunglasses on the back of his head. I still didn't understand how to bet and was confused. I know how to play poker, but just didn't know how to bet. 

The other card players tried explaining to me how to play poker, and that annoyed me, because that wasn't the issue. The issue was...what are these fucking circles on the table? There's one that says "Trips," one that says "Blind," and I forget what the other circle said. I understand what a blind is, I just didn't know what the hell "Trips" would do if I put my chip in the "Trips" circle. Sunglasses guy kept saying,

"It's a house game, man."

I don't know what that means, either. Each time the other players got their cards, they flipped them over immediately and showed the dealer. That seemed boring and dull to me. I kept my cards to myself, and when I folded once, the dealer flipped my cards over and showed everyone.

"Hey, don't show people my cards."

She shook her head. I'm sure she knew something I didn't know. At the time I just wanted to play regular ass poker, but they were playing some bullshit "I'll show you my hand every time" game that I didn't like.

I won the first hand I played and then just continued to battle and argue with the dealer and the people around me. I told one guy not to tell me how to bet my hand. Backward sunglasses guy was muttering incoherencies and I think I heard him once say something about me combing my hair.

I was in a foul mood and when I turn foul I have a mouth. I really wanted to unleash on backwards sunglasses guy, but he was a fat headed meat man that could have potentially swung and knocked me out at any slight. I know from experience not to piss this guy off, although I wanted to so badly. I wanted to call him "backward sunglasses guy" and let him have it. But I didn't.

I explained to them that I had never played poker at a casino before, and the dealer acted like I was lying. She said she had seen me there before, and backward sunglasses guy fucking agreed. I was so mad.

"You honestly think that I've been to this casino before?"

No one said anything, and there was another player at the table now who smiled at me. I think he knew how stupid these people were acting and understood how I felt. He must've been a first time player once too. These others simply forgot. Backward sunglasses guy probably didn't even remember his last name at that point. He was just a drunken blob flipping his cards over and saying "This is a house game" as he clinked his ice cubes back and forth in his glass.

As the last two chips I had sat on the table and I saw that I wasn't going to win the hand, I walked away unannounced and found Chevy and Richard. We left and as we walked out I tried to blame Chevy for me losing the twenty dollars, because I thought he was going to be there with me while I gambled instead of just waiting at some table until I finished, like I was his gambling addict step mom and I had to drop him off at the casino day care until I pissed away my rent money. But as we drove away I realized that it wasn't his fault at all, and if I would have won money I wouldn't have said shit about it.

The pain of losing my little ass twenty dollars faded away and started to allow for a sense of understanding. I had an experience and I would never forget it. My first time in Las Vegas and my first time at a casino. It ended just the way I couldn't have imagined, which is exactly how it's supposed to be.