#where things are happening and changing (like how the jam jungle turned into the concrete jungle (my favourite bit of worldbuilding))

[nartmartballmop]

theres grafitti in the candy bomb mines that says "dont be a fool, beware the ghoul" and immedaitely after that level you fight he jewel ghoul, who is a big ass gem much like the ones you find in those mines

what if thats where he came from, where he grew up so to speak, before he became one of satans top minions. thatd be really neat worldbuilding

[angelicyoongie]

desolate (11)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, smut

— word count: 4.3k

— tag list:  @mrcleanheichou @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @mult1wh0re @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @mtgforall @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @awixxx @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @ess-place @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @moonlight-mochi @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @alltimeyoongi @btstxtgenre​ @honestlyfuriousharmony @itsoktheresbts @suzziequeuie @miss–insanity @illnevertrustmyselfagain @annoyingpessimist @lovelikeyouwant @originalpersonawobblerduck @cigarettes-after-tears @kookie-vuitton @thefangirlsoul @lmna990 @luvshorses08 @nanananisstuff @marvelstuck @kissmeimwitchy @crazyxforxmyself @hxsxxk-180294 @ratking101 @brittaney341 @shameless-army @yuukihime2097 @adoorinyourheart @heimdoodle @kissing-fear @toripeix @horanghae18 @redperson58 @awsome-small-k @salomea27 @johnnystolemywig @mihto @jisoosbitch @lyrxbz @forever-once-gone @sugalarity @out-of-jams @ithinkileftmycoatoutside @witchxlove @chocoflagcutii @alyboo-jpeg​ @ladyartemesia @tatiiz24 @boinko-boye @kaceyxmarie74 @fuckthatfeeling​ @makepastanotwar13​ @airiguk​ @justliketheoceann @strawbewymiwk​ @skswriting​ @kofikats​ @rainbow-zebra-unicorns​ @mhmbrigitta @forever-yoongis​ @prybts​ @phatbussyincorporated @itsmethepancake​ @alterlovess​ @boredoomfm​ @furblrwurblr​

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine Part ten (M) Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

(A/N: I realized I had accidentally named both the older co-worker and Yoongi’s first owner as “Mr. Park”, so I have gone back to change Y/n’s co-worker’s name to Mr. Yang lol) “Yoongi?” You call out, your voice barely audible above the heavy showers thundering down against the asphalt. You skid to a stop as you see a dark figure round a corner, the silhouette barely visible against the imposing darkness of the alleyways. There’s no way of knowing if it’s even Yoongi, but you’re grasping at straws at this point.

You’ve lost track of where you are, the brick walls and cement structures all blending together into a concrete jungle you’re not sure you’ll ever make it out of. You’ve never strayed so far from your own neighbourhood before, and the tightness in the back of your neck reminds you that maybe it’s better to keep moving. You can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, every fleeting shadow making your skin crawl.

Your soaked shoes hit the pavement loudly as you turn to run after the figure, the sound echoing between the high walls. You managed to slip on a pair of shoes and a jacket before you braved the horrible autumn weather, but Yoongi didn’t, and you don’t even want to imagine how drenched he must be by now.

You’re panting by the time you make it to the end of the alleyway, the closed space suddenly opening up into a small park. It’s raining so heavy you can hardly see anything that’s further away than your hand, and a loud crack of thunder sends you scurrying across the open patch of grass until you’re huddled underneath a big tree. The red leaves that are still clinging on provides a little bit of shelter against the harsh weather, and you lean heavily against the trunk, exhausted after running up and down the streets for hours.

You just need to take a little breather before you start searching for him again, you’re not going home until you find him. You wince as raindrops start trickling down your neck, obviously your coat won’t provide you with much protection anymore. You let your eyes glide across the small park, surprised that it seems to be pretty well maintained despite the rough area you’re in. Even the little kids area seems to have been left alone, you can’t even spot a trace of graffiti on the playground equipment.

All of you attention is on the bright red tubes, and you swear you catch something move inside one of them as you squint to get a better look. You hesitate – unsure if checking it out is a good idea or not considering you’re all alone in an area you’re not familiar with. But the sense of what if wins over your anxiety of what might be lurking inside. You’ve already come this far; you might as well just sneak a peak to calm your mind.  

Despite the rain, you take your time moving across the grounds. The wet gravel crunches obnoxiously loud underneath your shoes as you get closer to the tubes, and it must be alerting whatever is inside of them of your presence.

“Hello?” You carefully call out, but nothing greets you back aside from the insistent thrumming of rain against plastic. The tubes are a little higher up than you expected, and your hands are shaking with nerves by the time you use them to lift yourself up to get a peek inside. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust; the tubes pitch black from the lack of light outside. Nothing.

You feel your stomach tighten with disappointment at the empty space. You’re ready to let go and leave when a flash of lightening sends you rushing inside, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest in fright as the sky lets out another loud crack of thunder directly over you head.

You bring your knees to your chest, your shaky breaths echoing down the tube as you try to get your pulse under control. You think you’ve just about managed to get it back to normal when you hear a sound further down the tunnel, just around the sharp turn you can’t see anything past.

Your mind is screaming at you to leave– to brave the rain and thunder instead of staying cooped up in here with god knows what. But you can’t help but feel that there’s a pull, something that’s urging your body to move deeper into the tubes. Your muscles are locked up and stiff with fear as you begin to crawl further into it, but it’s still not enough to stop you. Your fingers scrape against the plastic as you move closer to the sharp turn, your body already aching from the cramped space. You’re too scared to breathe; it feels like the pitch darkness is going to swallow you up the moment you make a sound.

As you reach the turn, an unknown whimper makes you freeze in your tracks. It’s hard to make out over the loud raindrops pelting against the plastic above your head, but if you strain your ears enough, you can just about make out the low noise.

You learn two things at once.

One, you’re definitely not alone in here, and two, the other person in here with you is crying. It’s obvious they want to be left alone if they’ve hid themselves away so well, but what if they’re hurt? Or what if ..

You peek around the corner, the darkness making it hard to make out the shape of the person further down the tunnel. They’re curled into on themselves, hands covering their face as their low sobs ring through the enclosed space. The sobs are just so desperately sad that it makes your own eyes sting, and you’re trying to blink away the tears when another boom of thunder sounds just over your heads, the sky flashing white as lightening strikes. The light is enough to illuminate the tube from the other side, and it doesn’t last longer than a second, but it’s enough.

You scramble forward, the metal bolts on the floor digging into your palms as you hurry over to the huddled form.

“Yoongi,” You choke, your voice alerting the cat hybrid of your presence.

He jerks, head bumping against the top of the tube as he lets out a garbled hiss. You can see the outline of his puffed out tail as it trashes back and forth, his narrowed eyes looking almost golden in the poor light.

“It’s me, Y/n,” You breathe as you crawl closer, the tight space making it hard to move as fast as you want to. The wild look in Yoongi’s eyes passes as he recognizes your voice, and another garbled noise escapes his lips. The cat hybrid’s posture still screams hostility, but you don’t even pause before throwing your shaking arms around his shoulders, bringing him flush against your body.

Yoongi stiffens at the contact, his tail nearly whacking you in the face as it continues to whip wildly behind his back. The space you’re in is awkward and cramped, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind it as he melts against your warmth, his face tucked into your neck as he lets out a harsh breath.

You hug him closer, wrapping your body around his as much as possible. Yoongi is more drenched than you, his shirt clinging to his body like a second skin. Your fingers skim across his neck as you bring them up to his hair, and he’s absolutely freezing to the touch.

“Yoongi, we need to get you warmed up,” You murmur, wincing at the scratchiness in your throat from all the yelling. Yoongi doesn’t answer; only buries his face deeper into your neck as you gently run your fingers through his hair. And then something wet hits your collarbone. It takes you a second to figure out how you even noticed it considering you’re already soaking wet, but the realization hits you as it happens again. It’s not icy raindrops falling against your skin, no– it’s tears.  

It dawns on you just as Yoongi lets out a heart wrenching sob, his whole body shaking in your hold. You tug him closer, biting back a startled gasp as he presses his ice-cold nose into your neck. Your heart absolutely shatters from the choked sobs that leave Yoongi’s lips. You’re desperate to make him feel better, but how is that even possible given what he just learned? His mother had been murdered. You feel bile rise in your throat as you’re reminded of the mug shot of your old neighbour. You never suspected a thing.

You’ve had nothing but time to think in the last hours searching for him, your mind whirring through all the information you’ve ever stored about Park Geunho. It was almost too easy to connect the dots – Yoongi’s story matching up with your memories perfectly.

Mr. Park hardly ever left his house, but he always had new people coming to visit him. At the time you thought it was weird, but for all you knew, maybe he just had a lot of friends and didn’t like to socialize outside of his own home. Fluffball’s weight seemed to always dramatically change too, you swear he seemed to suddenly gain a lot of weight and then go back to normal way too quickly. The times you didn’t see him for weeks you would ask Mr. Park where he was, and the man would usually answer that Fluffball was just too lazy to go outside. It didn’t make sense back then, but it does now.

It’s not like you checked if Fluffball was ever a boy or a girl, your young mind just assumed the black cat was a boy and left it at that. Mr. Park just called Fluffball “cat”, so it wasn’t like he ever gave you any pointers to what the gender might have been. The sudden weight gain and loss doesn’t add up if Fluffball was a boy, but if it was a girl, it could’ve been pregnancy. If Mr. Park was illegally breeding hybrids and selling them off like the reporter said, then .. it matches up.

It would make sense if Fluffball gained weight because she was pregnant, and then lost the weight once her children were born. The random people visiting him must have been buyers, and you suppose he hardly ever left home in fear that the hybrids would either escape, or someone would figure it out. You’re honestly surprised Fluffball was even allowed to go outside, but come to think of it, you probably weren’t much of a threat, as young as you were. You had always thought of Mr. Park as too stern and a little scary, but looking back at it now, it wasn’t just sternness in his voice whenever he called for Fluffball, it was animosity.

But, what makes you the most sick to your stomach, is that you now know why Fluffball passed away so suddenly. Mr. Park had killed her. And you had helped him bury her in his garden. He hadn’t even looked remotely sad, his face a blank canvas while you cried your eyes out for the sweet cuddly cat you’d grown so fond of. There’s no wonder you thought you saw a ghost when you visited the shelter and found Yoongi. He’s a splitting image of Fluffball – his mom.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you rest your head on top of Yoongi’s, your own tears silently sliding down your cheeks as you press your lips to his hair. All of this had been going on next door and you didn’t even know. You had been standing next to murderer and you didn’t ever realize that something was even remotely off. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself. It makes you feel guilty.

Do you even have the right to comfort Yoongi? Should you even be allowed to touch him?

“I’m so sorry,” You whisper. You’re sorry Yoongi ever had to experience something like this in the first place, that his life has been nothing but pain and uncertainty. You’re sorry you couldn’t stop it. And you’re sorry that even now, you let yourself feel relived that you found him, that you even dare to feel happy to have him in your arms.

You’re not sure how long it takes before Yoongi’s sobs turn softer, the steady stream of tears running down your neck calming down to a few stray droplets as he takes deep, shaky breaths. You loosen your grip around his back once he starts pulling away, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks instead. His pale skin is blotchy, the white in his eyes rimmed red from all the crying. You press soft pecks to the apple of his cheeks, your thumbs running slowly back and forth over his cold skin.

“Do you want to go home?” You ask. Your soaking wet clothes have dried up a little, but it’s not enough to warn off the bone chilling cold that has settled into your body. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you first set out to follow him, but it’s enough for the temperature to have dropped drastically. You can stay out in the frigid weather all night if Yoongi needs you to, but you’re honestly more worried about him than yourself. He’s way too cold.

“Yeah, lets go home,” The hollow tone in his voice breaks you all over again, so you just settle for a nod, and a soft smile to mask the guilt forcing itself up your throat.

You slip your coat around Yoongi’s shoulders once you both crawl outside of the tubes, the cat hybrid not making a sound as you gently grasp his hand to lead him back home. The rain has let up from a heavy downpour to a light drizzle, and it makes it a little easier for you to spot certain buildings you think might lead you in the right direction. Your phone is dead, so there’s no use trying to look up anything there. You wince for every step Yoongi takes on the cold ground, his bare feet red and bruised from all the walking.

You let out a sigh of relief as you finally see your building, the tall structure looking like beacon of light in the darkness. Yoongi doesn’t make a sound as you tug him back upstairs, nor does he protest when you help him peel the freezing clothes of his ice-cold body. You leave him to take a shower as you hurry into the kitchen, heating up some canned soup you find stuffed into the back of your pantry. It might not be the best, but it just needs to serve its purpose, and that is to heat Yoongi back up.

Your hands hurt as you carefully ladle the soup into a deep bowl, the warm air in your apartment making your fingers burn as they start to thaw from the cold. You make it into the living room with the food just as Yoongi emerges from the bathroom, and you quickly usher him over to the couch to eat.

“I’ll just go get changed real quick, okay?” You say, not really moving from Yoongi’s side until the cat hybrid gives you a stiff nod in response. You make fast work of snatching up warm clothes from your room, wasting no time as you hurry over to the bathroom.

You swear you could almost cry out of relief as you freezing body steps in under the warm cascading water, your numb limbs finally regaining feeling. But you don’t stay there for very long. The moment you’re sure you can move all your body parts normally; you’re out of there – hastily drying yourself off before tugging on the dry clothes.

Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch since you left him, the spoon you laid out for him still perched next to the bowl on the table. His hands are clasped together tightly between his knees, eyes staring mindlessly at a spot on your wall. You slowly slide down next to him on the couch, his ears not even twitching in your direction. You’ve noticed his cat ears seem work on pure instinct, immediately moving to follow whatever sound they pick up on. So the fact that they don’t even stir when you’re so close is worrying – because that means Yoongi is too deep into his own thoughts to hear you, and that’s probably not the best place for him to get lost in right now.

“Yoongi,” You softly call his name as you reach out for his intertwined fingers. You carefully pry his hands apart to place the spoon in his palm, nudging the bowl closer to the edge of the table. Yoongi blinks, his gaze moving from the wall to his hand, his fingers slowly closing around the utensil. His eyes trail over to you; the confused and empty look on his face making your stomach lurch.

“You need to eat,” You remind him. Yoongi watches you for another moment before he nods, his gaze moving back to the steaming soup in front of him. If the situation were different you would’ve felt like a creep just sitting there and watching Yoongi eat, but truthfully, you are pretty sure he never would have taken a bite unless he knew you were.

You wait until the bowl is half empty before you ask the question that’s been on the tip of your tongue all night.

“Why did you leave?”

Yoongi places the spoon back into the soup with a small shrug, his ears falling back into his hair as he stares down at the steaming food.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi’s voice is hoarse and raw. “The only thing I could think of was just that I needed to find that fucker and hurt him in the same way he hurt my mom,” The last few words slips out as a hiss, Yoongi’s lips twisting into a snarl as he remembers the report.

“I still do,” He adds, “I can’t let him get away with this.”

“I’ll help you,” Yoongi is shocked at the conviction in your voice, his eyes flying up to meet yours in surprise. You didn’t only have time to think about Mr. Park and Yoongi’s mom, but also why the other cases in the news report had felt so familiar. They were all from your company.

There’s no cases you have worked on yourself, but you know that one of them was Jihyo’s, and you’ve heard bits and pieces about the others from your co-workers. You had no idea about Mr. Park, his case must’ve been dealt with before you started working there, but you’re certain that the conveniently timed breaches the office has been having these last weeks has to be tied to this.

Jihyo’s case still leaves a sour taste in your mouth, and you can remember how distraught she was when her client’s claim got overruled. That’s probably the hardest aspect of your job, the fact that you can’t do anything else after you hand over all the information and evidence you’ve collected to the lawyer in charge. Jihyo was convinced something was off about it, but neither of you are in a position where your opinion matters, and so it wouldn’t have made a difference. If only, it probably would’ve made the cases of Jihyo’s future clients even more difficult to win, if members of the court already disliked her because she had voiced her concerns.  

You’re certain your company is connected to all of this, and your suspect hasn’t exactly been subtle with how he’s been sneaking around on your floor lately. But there’s only one way to find out for sure, and you’re more than ready to get to the bottom of this. You already made a promise to yourself that you would make the ones who had hurt Yoongi pay – and you sure as hell intend to keep it.

.

You’re not surprised at how quiet the office is the following day, it seems like a good chunk of your co-workers must have seen the news and arrived at the same conclusion. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but at least that your company was targeted for a reason. You had texted Jihyo about her case yesterday as well, and your friend looks like she hasn’t slept a wink. She has deep circles underneath her eyes, her usually bright and glowy skin looking dull and tired. Frowning, you take your seat, making a mental note to pick something up for her on your break.

You’re honestly not doing much better yourself. You kept waking up all night to make sure Yoongi was still curled up at the bottom of your bed, the black lump of fur soothing your anxiety just enough to fall back asleep, but not enough that it lasted for more than an hour. You were apprehensive about leaving him at home all by himself, but you quickly shut down that train of thought. Yoongi is an adult. He can leave your apartment whenever he wants to, and he’s more than capable to take care of himself.

You sigh, trying your best to ignore the gnawing worry in your stomach. After all, you have an important mission you need to do today. The day trickles by slowly, your anxiety only growing for each passing hour you’re left alone with your thoughts. You have no guarantee that your hunch is right, but you’re honestly not sure what terrifies you more – cornering the lanky guy from the IT department only to find out he has nothing to do with it, or finding out that he does. You don’t know what lengths this hacker group is willing to go to, or what this guy might be capable of doing. It would be easy to pretend you never noticed anything, but you can’t. This isn’t about you, this is about Yoongi.

You wave Jihyo off when she offers to stay back and wait for you at the end of the day, your nerves at an all time high as your co-workers start leaving one by one. You’re basically bouncing in your seat as you bid the last one goodbye; the floor suddenly plunged into silence. You swallow hard, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you rise to your feet. You still haven’t figured out the best way to approach him, but you figure you can always use your computer as an excuse.

The stairwell is silent as you make your way down, and it’s only the sound of your footsteps bouncing of the walls that is keeping you company. You pause to take a deep breath once you reach the door to the IT department, trying your best to convince your fried nerves that he might not even be in today.

But of course, that gets thrown out the window as soon as you step inside. There’s only one desk that’s still on, and it’s his. The man startles as the door slams shut behind you, and he jumps out of his seat as you get closer. He hovers awkwardly behind his chair, tongue wetting his lips nervously as he sees your gaze flicker over to the cat-formed sticky notes pad he still has on his desk.

”Did you do it?” The words tumble out of your lips before you can zip them shut, and you groan inwardly at your lack of tact. Well, that’s one way to do it.

“I-I don’t know what you’re t-talking about,” The man stutters, his eyes flickering to the door behind you.

“The breach. I’ve seen you sneaking around our floor upstairs, and it just doesn’t feel like a coincidence that so many of our files suddenly ended up on the news yesterday,” You try to keep your voice level, desperately hoping that he can’t hear the slight tremor in it as you speak.

The man’s face grows white as you take a step closer, his throat bobbling as he grips the back of his chair tighter.

“N-no, I d-don’t have anything to d-do with it,” He vigorously shakes his head, his long hair flying side to side from the movement. Your eyes zero in on the weird pattern you noticed last time, and you feel like everything finally clicks into place as you realize what it is.

Scales.

This man must be a hybrid too. And he’s probably terrified of being found out. It’s pretty much unheard of that hybrids work along side humans without their owners, and he must’ve been putting himself into grave danger by showing up here every day for work.

“Oh okay, my mistake then,” You take a hesitant step back, the extra space seemingly calming the hybrid down.

You don’t believe him. If anything, you’re now more sure than ever that he has to have something to do with this, but the added uncertainty of not knowing what kind of hybrid he is, and what he’ll do if you corner him further isn’t worth it. You’ll have to come up with a better plan.

“I have some information on one of the files, but I see I was mistaken. My apologies,” You smile gently, hoping he’ll take the bait. That seems to make him pause, his eyes once again flickering over to something behind you before his tense posture suddenly relaxes.

“And what kind of information might that be, Y/n?” The deep voice behind your back nearly gives you a heart attack. You whip around to find Mr. Yang standing there with his arms crossed, an amused smile on his lips as he takes in your shocked expression.

“What?” You gape, dumbfounded at his sudden appearance.

“I don’t think Ki-won is the person you’re looking for,” Mr. Yang gestures to the hybrid.

“If you have anything you want to share, then you should do so with me. I’m the one who orchestrated the breach.”

You open and close your mouth, no words leaving your lips as you stare back at the older man. Even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never expected Mr. Yang to be behind it, not when he’s one of the few workers who’s been with the company for the longest time. Maybe you’re a little out of your depth.

“And I suppose you’re here because of your cat hybrid?” Scratch that. You’re definitely way out of your depth.

- - - - the next chapter will finally explain everything, and y/n might have to share a secret she doesn’t want yoongi to find out about ..  as always, i hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! see you all soon! in case you maybe enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 AND please check out the posting schedule for july if you haven’t already!

[dragonydreams]

Steal the Air - Captain Canary Pump Up the Volume AU

Title: Steal the Air Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart Summary: Leonard Snart is your regular quiet nerdy guy by day, but at night, make sure to catch his Facebook Live posts as the mysterious Captain Cold. Modern Pump Up the Volume AU Timeline: n/a Word Count: 5,142 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie_quill for looking this over for me. Author's Note 1/Additional Disclaimer: I love the movie "Pump Up the Volume" and thought it would work so well as a Captain Canary story. It's so brilliantly written, that I couldn't bring myself to change many of the words from the film, so much of the text belongs to Allan Moyle and New Line Cinema. Author's Note 2: Written for @ficcingcaptaincanary​'s Movie AU prompt. (Told you I was going to be late with this.) Author's Note 3: Youtube links to songs used in story as you read or listen to playlist for this story on Spotify

Did you ever get the feeling that everything in America is completely fucked up? You know that feeling that the whole country is like one inch away from saying, 'That's it, forget it.' We live in a world where vigilantes dispense justice in the cities and metahumans rule the streets. And we're expected to survive high school and go out into that crazy world. I can barely think about surviving another day of mediocre education, let alone making it in the "real world". You know what I'm talking about, Starling City. So sit back, relax, and do not adjust your screen because I am Captain Cold and this is live. This is life.

~~*~~

"Hey, Sin, have you seen this?" Sara asked, sidling up next to her best friend as they headed into Starling City High School.

"What?" Sin asked, taking the cell phone from Sara. She glanced down at the open Facebook app. "Captain Cold? Yeah, I've been watching. You like every one of his posts so I was curious. Who is he?"

"No one knows," Sara said, taking her phone back and pulling up his profile. "The only photo is his profile photo with the huge parka and dark goggles. You can barely see his face."

"Maybe that's the point," Sin said. "He leaves that photo up blocking the camera for the live videos on purpose."

"I know, but he's gotta be a student here. He's as much as said so," Sara pointed out. "I'm gonna find him."

"Good luck with that," Sin said.

~~*~~

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows - Everybody Knows, by Leonard Cohen

Okay, down to business. I got my Black Jack gum here and I got that feeling, mmm that familiar feeling that something rank is going down up there. Yeah, I can smell it. I can almost taste it. The rankness in the air. It's everywhere. It's running through that old pipeline out there, trickling along the dumb concrete river and coming up the drains of those lovely track homes we all live in. I mean, I don't know. Everywhere I look it seems everything is sold out.

My dad sold out. And my mom sold out years ago when she took off after birthing my sister. And then he went and brought us here, to this this shitty corner of the world. He made me everything I am today, so naturally, I hate the bastard.

~~*~~

Laurel Lance sat on her bed, laptop open on her outstretched legs as she watched Captain Cold's live feed. She muted the video as her dad came into the room.

"I don't know how you get perfect grades when you're on that thing all hours of the night." Laurel felt like her smile was more of a grimace. "Don't forget that your Harvard interview is tomorrow. Don't want you looking tired. Good night, Sweetheart."

She kept the smile plastered on her face until her dad had closed her bedroom door before unmuting the video almost violently.

She didn't know why, but this Captain Cold seemed to understand her in a way her father never would.

~~*~~

I'm getting a lot of comments and private messages here. 'Dear Captain Cold, my boyfriend's giving me the cold shoulder. How do I show him that I really love him?' Why do you keep asking me for love advice? Do I seem like I have a lot of experience with relationships? If I had a girlfriend I'd be making out with her instead of talking to all you lonely freaks. 'Dear Captain, I think you're full of crap. High school isn't as bad as you make it out to be. Cheer up, buddy.' Well, you may be one of the few teenagers who doesn't hate high school, but let me tell you something, you're in the minority. You wanna know why I'm not "cheery"? I just got dragged to this dumb city. I don't have any friends, no money of my own, no car, and oh yeah, no license. I don't know what good a license would do since there's nothing to do here anyway.

~~*~~

Leonard Snart hesitantly went up to the librarian's desk in the school library, handing over the book he was returning to the cute blonde girl who was working at the desk.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hi," he automatically responded, adjusting his glasses.

"You're in my writing class, right?" she asked.

Leonard really wished the teacher hadn't read from his paper in today's class, drawing this girl's attention to him. Pretty girls like her made him nervous. "Uh huh."

"I like Mrs. Smoak. She's quirky." She turned away to look at his check out slip. "Now you're in trouble!" She paused dramatically. "You owe me twenty-five cents. 'How To Talk Dirty And Influence People' by Lenny Bruce. Who's he? Any good?"

Leonard shifted uncomfortably as he dug a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to her. "He's all right."

"Talk a lot?" Sara teased.

"Not too much, no," Leonard responded, making his retreat.

~~*~~

Sara pulled out a school newspaper with pictures of all the senior class in it as she watched the quiet new guy practically run from the library. She found his photo and circled it, then crossed it out. "Cute, but no way," she mused.

~~*~~

Curtain’s call Is the last of all When the lights fade out All the sinners crawl

So they dug your grave And the masquerade Will come calling out At the mess you've made

Don't wanna let you down But I am hell bound Though this is all for you Don't wanna hide the truth

No matter what we breed We still are made of greed This is my kingdom come This is my kingdom come - Demons, by Imagine Dragons

Guess who? It's ten o'clock; do you care where your parents are? After all, it's a jungle out there. I don't know. Everywhere I look it seems that someone's getting butt surfed by the system. Parents are always talking about the system, and the sixties and how cool it was. I hate the sixties, I hate school, I hate principals, I hate vice principals! But my true pure refined hatred is reserved for guidance counsellors. Captain Cold just happens to have in his very hands a copy of a memo written by Mr. Slade Wilson, guidance counselor extraordinaire to one Miss Amanda Waller, high school principal. "I found Miranda un-remorseful about her current condition." Bastard can't even say she's knocked up. "And she's unwilling to minimize its effect on the morals of the student population." Guidance counsellors! If they knew anything about career moves would they have ended up as guidance counsellors?

~~*~~

Carter Hall was sitting in front of his computer, Captain Cold's livestream open in one window with a blank Word doc open in another.

He hastily muted his computer as his mom knocked on the open door. "Carter have you finished your homework yet?"

"Yes," he somberly answered.

"Your father and I are downstairs, why don't you come and join us for once," she implored.

"No," Carter refused.

"Okay, Carter, have it your way," she said, sadly.

"Thanks," Carter said as she retreated.

Carter unmuted his computer as he typed: Dear Captain Cold, do you think I should kill myself?

~~*~~

I took the pistol and I shot out all the lights I started running in the middle of the night The law ain't never been a friend of mine I would kill again to keep from doing time You should never ever trust my kind

I'm a wanted man I got blood on my hands Do you understand I'm a wanted man - I'm a Wanted Man, by Royal Deluxe

Send me your most pathetic moment, your most anything, as long as it's real. I mean I want the size, the shape, the feel, the smell. I want blood, sweat, and tears in these messages. I want brains and ectoplasm all over them. Hallelujah! And now, all my chilly listeners, get comfy because my White Canary is back. "Come in. Every night you enter me like a criminal. You break into my brain, but you're no ordinary criminal. You put your feet up, you drink your mug of hot chocolate, you start to party, you turn up my stereo. Songs I've never heard, but I move anyway. You get me crazy, I say 'Do it.' I don't care what, just do it. Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me -talk hard!" I like that. Talk Hard. I like the idea that a voice can just go somewhere uninvited and just kind of hang out like a dirty thought in a nice clean mind. To me a thought is like a virus. You know, it can just kill all the healthy thoughts and just take over. That would be serious.

Sara was lying on her bed, listening to Captain Cold read her message for all the world to hear. "That would be totally serious," she agreed.

I know all of my chilly listeners would love it if I would just call up the pretty bird lady. But no! Because she never encloses her number.

Sara laughed. "Tough luck, creepoid."

She's probably a lot like me, a legend in her own mind. But you know what, I bet in real life she's probably not that wild. I bet she's kind of shy like so many of us who briskly walk the halls, pretending to be late for some class, pretending to be distracted. Hey, poetry lady, are you really this cool? Are you out there? Are you listening?

"I'm always out here," Sara promised.

I feel like I know you, and yet… we'll never meet. Ah, so be it. I don't know; drugs are out, sex is out, politics are out, everything is on hold. I mean we definitely need something new. We just keep waiting for some new voice to come out of somewhere and just say, "Hey, wait a minute, what is wrong with this picture?" Well maybe this is the answer to everything, wouldn't that be nice, huh? "Dear Captain Cold, do you think I should kill myself?" Great! Signed, "I'm Serious." And of course there is a number here. Hello, Serious?

Carter Hall took a deep breath and answered his phone. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Captain Cold asked.

"Yep," Carter answered.

"I guess what I'm asking is how serious are you? How are you going to do it?" Captain Cold asked.

"I'm gonna blow my fucking head off," Carter responded.

"Oh! Well, do you have a gun?" Captain Cold asked.

"No, I'm going to use my finger, genius," Carter said, sarcastically.

"All right. So where is this gonna take place, huh?"

"Right here," Carter said.

"Where is this alleged gun? Do you have it with you? Did you at least write a note? You have a reason, don't you? You're not going to be one of those people who kills themselves and nobody has any idea of why they did it? Hey, that's why we need a note, pal!" Captain Cold cajoled.

"I'm all alone," Carter admitted.

"No, hey, look, maybe it's okay to be alone sometimes, everybody's alone," Captain Cold insisted.

"You're not," Carter said.

"I didn't talk to one person today, not- not counting teachers. I sit alone every day you know, sitting in the stairwell eating my lunch, reading a book. What about you?"

Carter hung up the phone. His mind was already made up. He loaded the gun.

I hate that, now I'm depressed. Now I feel like killing myself, but luckily I'm too depressed to bother. Great! Straight to voicemail. Rejected again, that's okay I'm used to it, terminal loneliness. People always think they know who a person is but they're always wrong. Most parents have no idea. It's just that mine had me tested because I sit alone in my room alone, naked, wearing only a cock ring, heh heh! I mean it really bugs me, everyone knows what a person should be, who cares how I should be! You know, in real life I could be that anonymous nerd sitting across from you in Chem. Lab, staring at you so hard, you turn around, he tries to smile, but the smile just comes out all wrong. You just think how pathetic, then he just looks away and never looks back at you again. Well, hey, who cares, that's my motto. Well, sleep tight, Miranda, sleep tight, White Canary, sleep tight, Mr. Serious. Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow.

Sara went to the paper she had taped to the wall of what she knew about Captain Cold so far. She wrote down that he ate lunch on the stairs reading a book.

She had a pretty good idea where to go look now.

~~*~~

Leonard was sitting outside with an open book and his lunch the next day, like he did every day.

The pretty girl from the library skipped down the stairs and stopped in front of him. "Hi, got a stick of gum?" She grabbed the package out of his shirt pocket, triumphantly. "Black Jack! My name's Sara, what's yours?"

"Leonard."

"Leonard," she repeated. "Well, hi, Leonard."

"Hi," Leonard said, marking his place in his book and closing it.

"Listen, I was gonna cut fourth period, do you wanna join me in the art supply room?" Sara asked.

"Er, no, I can't, got to go, sorry," Leonard said, awkwardly getting to his feet and practically running off.

"Sorry!" Sara called after him. "Maybe next time."

~~*~~

Mrs. Smoak was somber as she got the class's attention. "I have some very upsetting news. Last night one of our students, Carter Hall, took his own life. For those of you who knew him, there will be a memorial service at Dempsey Hall on Friday. I know it hurts, it's painful to lose someone."

~~*~~

Leonard found a quiet corner on campus and pulled out his phone. He opened Captain Cold's Facebook account and read the newest message from White Canary aloud, to himself. "You're the voice crying out in the wilderness, you're the voice that makes my brain burn and makes my guts go gooey. Yeah, you gut me, my insides spill out on your altar and tell the future, my steaming gleaming guts spill out your nature. I know you, not your name, but your game. I know the true you, come to me or I'll come to you."

"So you are him," Sara exclaimed from behind Leonard, causing him to jump. "Don't worry I'm not going to bust you or anything. Aren't you going to ask who I am?"

"No, I don't think so. No!" Leonard said.

"I'm the White Canary!" She boasted. "You don't believe me." She grabbed his phone and quoted without looking at the screen, "'I know you, not your name, but your game. I know the true you, come to me or I'll come to you.' Hey, relax, I'm not really like that, except when I am."

Leonard tried to get away from her, still upset from learning about Carter's suicide. "Look, I really can't handle this right now, okay?"

Sara looked at him sympathetically, as if she could read his mind. "Look, it's not your fault. I was listening last night. I didn't think he'd go through with it."

~~*~~

You're free to do what you want You never thought of consequences You created your own little world Where you could always be different

A place where the rules do not apply You could never be denied You took advantage of a good think Now the void you filled is empty

Put the mask back on Put the mask back on Don't take it off 'til everybody's gone

Put the mask back on Put the mask back on No disguise has ever lasted so long - Cover Up, by Trapt

You see I never planned it like this. I set up this account to talk to my old friends, but they didn't know to look for me under this handle. I thought I was talking to nobody. I imagined that nobody was listening. Maybe I imagined one person out there. Anyway one day I woke up and I realized I was never going to be normal and so I said fuck it, I said so be it and Captain Cold was born. I never meant to hurt anyone, honestly, I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm sorry, Carter. I never said, "Don't do it." I'm sorry. Um, anyway I'm done, stick a fork in me it's been grand. This is Captain Cold saying sayonara, over and out.

Sara sat staring at her computer as the video ended. "Come on, you can't do this," she told the screen.

Laurel shook her phone in the bedroom next to Sara's. "This is a joke right?"

"C'mon, Captain baby, don't stiff," Mick, Sin's boyfriend, complained as they watched together.

Leonard Snart paced around his bedroom, staring at his computer equipment. "What am I doing? Fuck It!" He sat back down and queued up a new video session.

You hear about some kid who did something stupid, something desperate. What possessed him? How could he do such a terrible thing? It's really quite simple, actually. Consider the life of a teenager. You have parents and teachers telling you what to do. You have movies, magazines, and TV telling you what to do. But you know what you have to do. Your job, your purpose, is to get accepted, get a cute girlfriend, and think up something great to do with the rest of your life. What if you're confused and can't imagine a career? What if you're funny looking and you can't get a girlfriend? You see no one wants to hear it, but the terrible secret is that being young is sometimes less fun than being dead.

"This is great, he's making it worse," the reporter commented to his cameraman outside the high school the kid who'd killed himself had attended. Whoever this guy was behind the parka and goggles, he'd made an impression. Whether that impression was good or bad, remained to be seen. What would get better ratings?

Suicide is wrong, but the interesting thing about it is how uncomplicated it seems. There you are, you got all these problems swarming around your brain, and here is one simple, one incredibly simple solution. I'm just surprised it doesn't happen every day around here. Now, now they're going to say I said offing yourself is simple, but no, no, no, no, it's not simple. It's like everything else, you have to read the fine print. For instance, assuming there is a heaven who would ever wanna go there, you know? I mean think about it, sitting on this cloud, you know it's nice, it's quiet, there's no teachers, there's no parents, but guess what? There's nothing to do! Fucking boring. Another thing to remember about suicide is that it is not a pretty picture. First of all, you shit your shorts, you know. So, there you are, dead, people are weeping over you, crying, girls you never spoke to are saying, "Why? Why? Why?" and you have a load in your shorts! That's the way I see it. Sue me. Now, they're saying I shouldn't think stuff like this. They're saying something is wrong with me, that I should be ashamed. Well, I'm sick of being ashamed. Aren't you?

"Sick to death!" Laurel agreed.

I don't mind being dejected and rejected, but I'm not going to be ashamed about it.

"Hallelujah," Sara called out.

At least pain is real. You look around and you see nothing is real, but the pain is real. You know, even this show isn't real. This isn't me; I'm using a voice disguiser. I'm a phony fuck just like my dad, just like anybody. You see, the real me is just as worried as the rest of you. They say I'm disturbed, well, of course, I'm disturbed. I mean we're all disturbed, and if we're not, why not? Doesn't this blend of blindness and blandness want to make you do something crazy? Then why not do something crazy? It makes a hell of a lot more sense than blowing your fucking brains out, you know. Go nuts, go crazy, get creative! You got problems? You just chuck 'em, nuke 'em! They think you're moody? Make 'em think you're crazy, make 'em think you might snap! They think you got attitude? You show 'em some real attitude! Come on, go nuts, get crazy. Hey no more Mr. Nice Guy! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh god!! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh yes.

We're all excited But we don't know why Maybe it's cause We're all gonna die

And when we do (When we do) What's it all for (What's it all for) You better live now Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door

Tell me, are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down? Oh, no let's go!

Let's go crazy Let's get nuts Look for the purple banana Until they put us in the truck, let's go! - Let’s Go Crazy, by Prince

~~*~~

Laurel Lance took Captain Cold's words to heart. She grabbed her ribbons and trophies - symbols of her academic achievement, of her so-called perfect life, and carried them down to the kitchen where she stuffed them in the microwave. Just before she slammed the door closed, she ripped off her stupid pearls and tossed them in, too. She punched something into the timer and watched in fascination as the items slowly spun around until the microwave exploded, spitting debris hit her in the face, knocking her out.

The explosion drew Sara out of her bedroom and down the stairs where she found her sister unconscious on the floor. She looked around, bewildered, until she saw the microwave and she burst out laughing.

"You tell 'em, Captain Cold," she muttered, reaching for her phone to call an ambulance.

~~*~~

The next day, Leonard watched as students rearranged the cards on the notice boards to spell out STAY COLD and hung signs that said THE TRUTH IS A VIRUS. Some of the teachers were running around freaking out, trying to get it all down. Others thought it was about time someone made a stand.

Sara tracked down Leonard and got him alone in the art room. "So, I don't know if you know this, but my sister is the perfect Laurel Lance." Leonard shook his head to indicate that he had not known this. "So, last night she burned up all her shit right after you suggested it, in our kitchen! Oh, her precious pearls were flying like bullets. Dad was un-thrilled."

Leonard ran a hand over his closely shorn hair. "This is out of control."

"Yeess!" Sara emphatically agreed, grinning maniacally.

"That's it, it's over. I just hope it isn't too late," Leonard said.

"Leonard!" Sara called after him as he ran away, again.

"Just leave me alone, okay, please?" he called back over his shoulder.

~~*~~

Leonard allowed his dad to drag him to the PTA meeting at the school. He slumped down in his chair as Principal Waller tried to conduct regular business when all the parents wanted to do was talk about him. Well, Captain Cold. He sat up straighter as Laurel Lance walked up on the dais.

"My name is Laurel Lance and I have something to say to you people. People are saying that Captain Cold is introducing bad things and encouraging bad things. But it seems to me that these things were already here. My god, why don't you people listen? He's trying to tell you something is wrong with this school. Half the people that are here are on a probation of some kind. We are all really scared to be who we really are. I am not perfect. I've just been going through the motions of being perfect, and inside I'm screaming."

"Laurel, you were a model student," Waller said, disappointment evident in her voice.

Leonard made a hasty retreat after Laurel left. This was all getting to be too much.

~~*~~

Leonard stood leaning against the wall outside the sliding door of his basement bedroom, deleting messages for Captain Cold on his phone.

"Hi! What are you doing? You having fun?" Sara asked as she approached him.

"Yeah," Leonard said, absently.

"Hey, look, I took some of these off the wall for you. I mistakenly thought you might want them," she said, thrusting some handmade signs at him.

"Thanks," Leonard said, letting them fall to the ground.

"So I guess you're not going on tonight," Sara commented after a few minutes of silence.

"Brilliant," Leonard drawled, pushing off the wall and going back into his room.

Sara huffed, following him. "Is this all just a game to you? You know you can't just shout 'fire' in a theatre and then walk out. You have a responsibility for the people who believe in you. What is this? C'mon say something, say anything. Open your mouth and say, 'Get the hell out of here bitch.'"

"I can't," Leonard said.

"You can't what?" Sara demanded.

"I can't talk," Leonard ground out.

Sara snorted. "Sure you can talk."

"I can't talk to you," he clarified. He let out a noise of frustration as he sat in front of his computer, put on his headset, and opened Facebook.

I got a message from this guy who's got a problem, he can't talk. I mean he can talk, but never when he wants to, not to girls, not to people. He just opened up his mouth and nothing came out. And this jerk finds somebody that he likes, which is probably the worst thing to happen to a person who can't talk. So, I don't know what to tell this guy because lately every time I give out advice the fit hits the shan. So, I don't know, maybe the best thing to do is just turn around and face the music and try to talk.

Leonard turned around to talk to Sara but she's gone.

"Leo," Lewis called, knocking on the door.

"Coming," Leonard called back, pausing the video and turning off the monitor.

"Leo, it's just me. I wanna come in for a minute," Lewis said, turning the locked doorknob.

"Yeah, just give me a second here, two seconds," Leonard said, taking off the headset and hiding it under a dirty tee-shirt.

"Open the goddamn door," Lewis shouted.

"On my way," Leonard said, checking the room one last time before yanking the door open.

"I have been out there for two minutes, what the hell are you doing in here?" Lewis demanded, looking for evidence of drugs or alcohol. Or a Facebook video.

"I was just reading," Leonard said, gesturing to the book on his desk.

"Oh c'mon, Leo, I heard you. I heard you talking," Lewis said.

"I was reading aloud," Leonard quickly said.

"Oh c'mon, do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Okay, I'll tell you the truth," Leonard said, not sure what he was going to say.

"He was talking to me," Sara said, popping up from behind the loveseat. "Hi, I'm Sara Lance."

"Nice to meet you," Lewis said, stunned. "How do you do?"

"I was afraid you would be mad at me for disturbing Leonard's homework," Sara said.

"You don't know how happy I am to meet you," Lewis said, looking at his son with new appreciation.

"Listen, I've got to go, but it was really nice to have met you. Bye, Leonard," Sara said, taking a step towards the sliding door.

"No, you don't have to go. Leo, she doesn't have to go," Lewis said.

"Bye now, see you tomorrow," Sara said with a wink to Leonard as she slipped outside.

"You've been a bad dog, haven't you?" Lewis said, punching his son lightly on the arm. "You know, for a second there I thought you were that crazy Facebook character they've been talking about on the news."

"Maybe he's not that crazy, Dad," Leonard suggested.

"Right! Very funny. Go get her, go on. That's my idea of homework," Lewis cajoled.

After his dad left, Leonard got his microphone back on and resumed his session.

Sorry about that, folks, technical difficulties. Let's see who we have out there tonight. The usual band of teenage malcontents. I certainly hope so, because Captain Cold is feeling kind of rude tonight.

~~*~~

Let's go out in flames so everyone knows who we are 'Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far We've become echoes, but echoes are fading away So let's dance like two shadows, burning out a glory day

Devil's on your shoulder Strangers in your head As if you don't remember As if you can forget It's only been a moment It's only been a lifetime But tonight you're a stranger Some silhouette - Silhouette, by Aquilo

After Leonard put on the song he went outside to get some air. It had been a surreal night so far. He'd called Mr. Wilson again and was informed that his phone was being traced. Too bad for the cops that it was a burner phone. They could triangulate his signal, but not to his specific address, especially once he removed the battery and sim card from the phone.

He wasn't surprised that Sara was out there, listening to his cast on her phone.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk, you don't have to say anything and you don't have to do anything, unless you want to," she said, approaching him slowly.

"You're so different," Leonard said. "I mean, you're so fearless. I wish I could be like you."

"You are," Sara said, stepping close to him. They're so close but still not touching. Swaying together in the warm breeze. Almost dancing.

"I wish I could say things to you," Leonard said, raising a hand to hover over her cheek before lowering it.

"You do," Sara said, so earnestly. She grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart.

"Everything's so strange," Leonard whispered, his fingers flexing against her shirt.

"Yeah," Sara agreed, her breath hitching at their nearness.

"Maybe we're just crazy," Leonard said, meeting her eyes.

"So be it," Sara said, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

Leonard wrapped his free arm around her back, pulling Sara closer as she wound her arms around his neck. The kiss was clumsy, messy, all teeth and hard lips, but neither cared. They paused, panting for breath before coming together again in a much more satisfying kiss.

"So be it," Leonard whispered against her lips.

The End

[connorrenwick]

Where I Work: Beau Oyler of Enlisted Design

This month’s Where I Work heads to Oakland, California, the home of Enlisted Design, a multidisciplinary design studio whose collaborative approach to product and brand design has resulted in lucrative partnerships with many brands, like Ford, Samsung, LG, Amazon, Cisco, Best Buy, Belkin, Netgear, and many more. The design entrepreneur behind the award-winning company is founder Beau Oyler, the CEO and Executive Creative Director who also co-founded Urbio, the vertical garden that got its successful start on Kickstarter. Let’s head inside the offices of Enlisted Design to take a look around and see how Beau and his team make it all happen.

Beau beside the Urbio garden wall

What is your typical work style?

I hate procrastinating. My day is front-loaded with meetings and anything else that needs to be taken care of on the business side of things. That leaves the afternoon and evening for creative work and big picture, strategic thinking.

Main lobby of the studio, includes product wall, “Grand Lake” conference room (green chairs), “Fox” conference room

What’s your studio/work environment like?

The studio space is physically open and bright. The vibe is, too. It’s important to me that the energy is light since we have an intense, fast-paced project culture. You’ll always find designers huddled together, sketching, or heads down with headphones on, jamming on work. Clients are often camped out in Grand Lake (our largest conference room) engaged in workshops with the team and sharing ideas. Our kitchen, located in the center of the studio, is where we eat lunch together at the communal table. It’s a natural gathering spot for conversations throughout the day.

How is your space organized/arranged?

The studio is open plan. As you walk in, you’re immersed in our work displayed on a giant oak wood peg wall. It’s a great introduction to who we are. There are two main, glass-walled conference rooms and a door that leads to the maker space. Getting deeper into the studio, you’ll find the kitchen and two tucked-away meeting rooms. Then it opens up to where the team is working. Designers are loosely grouped by discipline with desks wrapped around the building in an L-shape. The space is lined by large windows that overlook the heart of Uptown Oakland, Broadway and 19th Street.

How long have you been in this space?

We’ve been in this building for ten years. We started in one small office and grew to take over the entire floor. We chose Oakland deliberately. It was underdeveloped, but we saw a glimmer of what it could be. Oakland is scrappy, like us. It’s also artistic and entrepreneurial and cool. Seeing the development and revitalization of the Uptown neighborhood (where we’re located) is particularly rewarding. In addition to fellow tech companies, there’s been roughly 125 bars, restaurants and indie boutiques that’ve opened in the last decade. The city named Uptown the official “Arts and Entertainment District” in 2009. This area is the epicenter of Oakland creative now. We’re so proud to be a part of that.

Urbio garden wall

If you could change something about your workspace, what would it be?

Actually nothing – I already changed it all during our renovation two years ago. I tore the entire second floor down and built a custom space that’s perfect for us.

Kieran Moriarty (Senior Industrial Designer) and his goldendoodle Bowie

Is there an office pet?

We are a decidedly dog-friendly studio. On any given day, you’ll likely meet at least one of the eight pups who regularly hang out. The general purpose of our studio dogs is to sleep, wander around for snacks, and then go back to sleeping.

Enlisted swag

Do you require music in the background? If so, who are some favorites?

We have a shared Sonos. Our studio manager, Shannon, is usually DJing everything from soul to synth-pop. We’re also steps away from Oakland’s Fox Theater – a constant source of inspiration depending on the week’s show lineup. The other day, we ran across the street to the box office and bought tickets to see the buzzy, disco-inspired band, Jungle, for a studio outing early next year.

How do you record ideas?

For years, I used Moleskine notebooks. I transitioned to Evernote on my iPhone a few years ago to keep it all in one place. It’s more convenient, but not quite as romantic.

Luis Velazquez (Industrial Designer) in front of a wall of sketches for our work with Pi Charging — a wireless charging device.

Do you have an inspiration board? What’s on it right now?

We create a vision board for every project, which is larger scale than a typical product mood board. We envision the entire world in which the new device or brand will live. Each is totally unique and specific to the project and client.

The Stance team sketching: Beau Oyler, Ellen O’Reilly (Sr. Designer), Beth Anderson (Sr. Designer), Kieran Moriarty (Sr. Industrial Designer)

Beau with the Stance project team

What is your creative process and/or creative workflow like? Does it change every project or do you keep it the same?

There is a general design roadmap that involves understanding, creating, and delivering. That said, there’s no sacred process here. We’re always looking for new ways to communicate – from mockups and explorations of form to animation and video storytelling. Anything that helps us more effectively and beautifully communicate ideas is fair game. Our team actively shares and tests new methods all the time.

What kind of art/design/objects might you have scattered about the space?

When we renovated the studio, we partnered with artist Annie Tull for a large-scale string installation, consisting of over 50,000 feet of custom color matched, military grade paracord. They start as balls of string displayed in the ground-floor lobby, and lead up to the studio, twisting and turning under concrete beams and above the desks. The magenta, turquoise and dark grey string are a metaphor for the collaborative design process. The colorful strings refract throughout the studio, culminating into one cohesive whole with the Enlisted logo in the background. The strings pass by another focal point of the studio, the “We Create” wall. The phrase is another nod to our uniquely collaborative partnership style, and on the wall are photos of favorite team moments, work, and design awards. The neon “Next Level Shit” sign is the go-to backdrop spot for anyone taking a selfie in the studio.

Beau in front of the ��Next Level Shit” neon sign

Are there tools and/or machinery in your space?

We have a maker space that’s always humming. Whether it’s being used for prototype creation or a photo shoot, there’s always someone in there getting their hands dirty. We have two types of 3D printers, a CNC machine, laser cutter, plus every mockup tool you can imagine, like foam core, hand tools, spray paint, and hot glue. The space is also open for anyone in the studio who wants to use it in their spare time for passion projects.

John Nam (Industrial Design Intern) putting up sketches on the whiteboard in Grand Lake Conference room.

What tool(s) do you most enjoy using in the design process?

A dry erase pen and a big, empty dry erase wall. I love sketching with pen and paper, but it’s not until you take those ideas and put them up on a wall to share that things start happening. Ideating together is when the best ideas come.

Maker Space

Let’s talk about how you’re wired. Tell us about your tech arsenal/devices.

At all times, I’ve got my iPhone XS Max, plus a battery charger. I work off of a Macbook Pro 13 inch, which is under TSA’s weight limit, meaning that I can keep it on my lap to work during takeoff and landing. I wear an Apple watch, sleep with Bose Sleepbuds, and drive an Audi Q5 – the most fun, technologically advanced car I’ve ever been in. In my house you’ll find most of the major IoT home products available on the market, especially the ones that Enlisted designed, like Arlo.

What design software do you use, if any, and for what?

I’m regularly in Illustrator, Photoshop, After Effects, KeyShot, and Cinema 4D.

Is there a favorite project/piece you’ve worked on?

My two adventurous children are hands-down my favorite projects.

Arlo camera on the product wall. With it are prototypes of the various design languages over the years.

Do you feel like you’ve “made it”? What has made you feel like you’ve become successful? At what moment/circumstances? Or what will it take to get there?

I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like I made it. I can acknowledge that there have been some big moments. As an entrepreneur, being on Shark Tank was great. We nailed it and that fueled Enlisted’s growth. Our ten-year-long relationship with Arlo is another significant experience. We’ve been NETGEAR’s design partner since the beginning and helped Arlo grow through design to earn nearly 50% market share. They IPO’d this year at a $1.4 billion valuation. A special moment related to that was when Belkin’s Chief Marketing Officer, Kieran Hannon, cold-called Enlisted because he saw Arlo win the Red Dot Product Design Award. Belkin is a dream client, so to be on their radar and get to work with them was huge. That said, I always want us to feel scrappy. We’re not out to prove ourselves, but we want to show that there’s a better way to design and co-create. Until that’s the established way, we haven’t made it. For me personally, as long as I’m still making, it’s all in the present tense.

Beau showing off his Stance socks

Tell us about a current project you’re working on. What was the inspiration behind it?

Stance is an American sock and apparel brand that I would say oozes cool. If the brand were a person, they’d essentially be the coolest kid you’ve ever met. At some point, that cool kid is going to grow up and mature into an adult. That’s what I’m really excited about right now – we’re helping Stance mature to the next level of fidelity, both as a brand and with their in-store shopping experience.

Beau reviewing concepts with Mega Tjhin (Visual Designer), Katie Friedlander (Account Manager), Diana Goldberg (Visual Designer), Miri Chan (Design Director)

What’s on your desk right now?

I don’t have a dedicated desk. I float to wherever I need to be, and whichever space is open. Basically, anywhere I leave my phone, ear buds, and wallet becomes my de facto desk.

Product wall

Do you have anything in your home that you’ve designed/created?

Definitely. Most of the products I’ve designed make their way into my house at some point. What I really like is seeing products I’ve designed in other people’s homes. I don’t point it out. I just want to quietly observe people interacting with the product. Same thing goes for seeing my designs in stores. Right now, we have products and packaging in the Apple Store, Costco, Best Buy, and Whole Foods. Seeing our designs out in the world, knowing that something beautiful and useful is available for anyone to buy, makes me happy. I see the brand or product and the memory of the project comes back to me. It’s like, boom, I love that thing. It’s a cool feeling.

Enlisted team

Photos by Dallis Willard.

via http://design-milk.com/

from WordPress https://connorrenwickblog.wordpress.com/2019/03/19/where-i-work-beau-oyler-of-enlisted-design/

[worryinglyinnocent]

Entangled Lives (3/6)

Summary: After the events of Par Avion, Charlie explores his growing feelings towards Desmond and his unwavering feelings towards Claire, and together the three of them form a new relationship. Of course, there are still flashes of the future to deal with, and Penny to think about, and separations to be borne through time and distance, but they are determined to make it work, and to find themselves a happy ending.

Canon divergent from S3Ep12 Par Avion, although it still follows background canon plot events. Also partly inspired by a prompt I received a long time ago: “What if Charlie had survived, time-travelled, and been the musician who programmed the Looking Glass?”

Rated: T

[One] [Two] [AO3]

======

Entangled Lives

Part Three

It was when they overheard Jack, Juliet and Sayid talking about the Looking Glass station that they realised what was going to happen and how it was going to happen. The Looking Glass, a station underwater where the island’s communication channels were controlled from. A room underwater, with lights and switches, and the very distinct possibility of drowning within it.

Since he had become part of the castaway group on the beach, Desmond had received the distinct impression that there was something of an A-team situation going on amongst the survivors, with Jack, Kate, Sawyer, Sayid and now also Juliet forming that team. Given that they seemed to take everything upon themselves, it would be very easy just to let them get on with it and do whatever it was that they needed to do to shut off whatever it was that was jamming the signal and get them off the island onto the boat. Charlie wouldn’t need to go anywhere near it. He wouldn’t even need to dabble his toes in the water.

Desmond sighed, watching the little group huddling over the Looking Glass plans, and he wondered just how much the future would change if Charlie wasn’t the one to go down and flip that switch. Would Claire and Aaron still be able to get off the island? Even if they went down there and Charlie survived in whatever way, it was still closer to his vision than him not being there at all.

They still hadn’t come up with any kind of concrete solution. Claire was determined that she wasn’t going to lose either of them, and certainly not Charlie, but in recent days Desmond had received the impression that Charlie wasn’t so sure himself. And it had to be said, as much as Desmond wanted to keep everyone safe for as long as he could, he really, really wanted Claire and Aaron to be able to get off the island at almost any cost. The question was, how close to almost any cost was he prepared to go? Was Claire’s escape even related to Charlie’s death in any way? This was the first time that he had ever seen the further fate of anyone other than Charlie in his visions, and he wasn’t sure if it was because there was a direction cause and effect link or if it was because he was becoming so much closer to Claire as a result of his relationship with Charlie and her.

“What’s going on there then?”

Desmond turned on hearing Charlie’s voice, then focussed his attention back on the action group getting plans together a little further along the beach.

“We’ve found our underwater room,” Desmond said. It was all he needed to say. Charlie’s eyes widened momentarily, and he looked from Jack’s group to Desmond and back again.

“Right.”

He didn’t say anything else for a long time, and then a certain determination that Desmond had never seen before came over his face, and he set off along the beach to go and see what was going on for himself.

“Charlie! Wait!”

Desmond scrabbled to his feet and tore off after him, arriving at the group and having to take a step back on seeing the complex plans spread out on the sand that they were all poring over.

“I’ll go,” Charlie said.

For a long moment, the others looked at him as if he had grown two extra heads, and Charlie rolled his eyes.

“What? Just because I’ve never shot a polar bear or wrestled an Other doesn’t mean I can’t flip a switch in some weird underwater room. I mean, how hard can it be, right? Besides, you lot are all going to have to stay here to make sure that the Others fall for the bait and that no-one ambushes you on your way to the radio tower. If you’re going to send someone down to flip switches, don’t you think it ought to be someone slightly more expendable that you don’t need to kick arse here?”

“You’re not expendable, Charlie.” The sound of everyone else speaking in unison with him made Desmond feel very justified in saying it, and also reminded him that he’d just run across the beach after Charlie to stop him from making this sacrifice, and now he was standing here beside him like a lemon, not adding anything to the conversation.

“I’ll go with him,” he said, both in an effort to add something of value and justify his sprint, and to hopefully get the opportunity to talk some sense into Charlie.

The rest of the group continued to look at each other before Jack gave a nod.

“All right. I guess that we could use all the volunteers that we can get to get this thing sorted out. I suppose we ought to be on the lookout for Locke throwing a spanner in the works as well.”

“I know he wants to stay on the island, but I don’t think that he’s going to the lengths of paddling out into the ocean to sabotage our own attempts to leave,” Desmond said. He paused. He hadn’t exactly known Locke as long as the rest of them. “Well. I don’t think he would.”

Kate scoffed. “When it comes to Locke, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”

“So, where is this physics-defying underwater power station, then?” Charlie asked. He was definitely going ahead with the plan, and Desmond could only smile and nod and go along with it. Maybe he could knock him out with an outrigger paddle or something on the way.

By the time they’d worked out a plan and the A-team were fully on board with Charlie and Desmond taking on the critical task of switching off whatever was jamming the signal, Desmond was no closer to working out a plan for Charlie’s survival, but he was absolutely, completely sure that no matter what happened, he was going to do something. Whereas before he had been agonising over what to do, now he was determined. He’d let Charlie come far too close to death once before when they’d been to find Naomi in the jungle, and Claire had already said that there would be no sacrifices for her sake on her watch.

Now all Desmond had to do was work out how to stop Charlie from sacrificing himself in the first place.

They were on their way back to their tent, safely out of the earshot of the A-team, and of Claire who was over at the pantry chatting with Rose and Bernard, when he could finally grab Charlie and try and talk some sense into him.

“Are you insane?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting Claire and Aaron off this bloody island, mate,” Charlie said. “If I have to drown by flipping switches, then maybe that’s the way it’s got to be.”

“Claire already said…”

“Yeah, I know.” Charlie sighed, scuffing his shoes in the sand and not meeting Desmond’s eyes for a long time. Even after he began to speak again, he was still only looking at his feet.

“I just think that maybe this time, it’s got to happen,” he began. “This is the fifth time you’ve seen me die. Don’t you think that maybe the universe is trying to tell me something here? Maybe this is just what’s meant to be, and every time you save me from my certain doom, you just piss off the universe a little bit more and it comes up with a brand-new way to kill me. It’s like Final Destination, you know. You can never cheat death. It’s always going to get you in the end.”

“I was in the hatch before it came out,” Desmond said. Charlie did have a point, in a way. Maybe the universe was trying to kill him. That still didn’t mean that they had to let it win.

It was all just so bloody unfair. Just when they’d got everything onto an even keel and things had been looking up for all three of them, this had had to happen to tip everything off kilter once more.

There were no words to express Desmond’s frustration in that moment; there were only actions. He cupped Charlie’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, a fierce and desperate one that he poured all his feelings into, praying that Charlie got it, that he realised just how much he meant and just how important and not at all expendable he was.

Charlie gave a squeak against his mouth and almost pulled away before relaxing into it. They were right in the middle of the beach and anyone could see them. In fact, most people were probably looking at them right now in astonishment. Although it had become clear to most people that something was going on when Desmond had started spending more and more time in Charlie and Claire’s tent, including a few overnight stays, they had never made their relationship public in that respect. This would be the beach camp’s first confirmation that yes, they were together, they were bi and poly and proud and they really didn’t care what anyone else thought. Well, Desmond certainly didn’t care, and from the way that Charlie was kissing him back with equal vigour, he didn’t think that he cared either.

“What was that for?” Charlie asked, breathless, once Desmond finally let him up for air.

Desmond gave him an incredulous look. “Can you really not guess? Really? I know you’ve got some self-esteem issues, brother, but that’s ridiculous. That was because I don’t want to lose you, and even if you’re determined to go on this suicide mission, then I’m going to be with you all the way. Because you’re not alone, Charlie. You have people who care about you and would be devastated to lose you. You have me and Claire and Aaron.”

Charlie’s smile could probably have powered the hatch for three years on its own, and Desmond thought that perhaps he’d managed to get through to him.

“I’ve had an idea,” Charlie said. “Honest to God lightbulb moment. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I know what to do. I know how it’s all going to work.”

He threw his arms around Desmond then took off back towards the tent, leaving Desmond standing confused in the middle of the beach, wondering what kind of epiphany he’d missed.

“That’s good,” he said faintly.

It was only then that he really noticed the rest of the camp’s eyes on him, with some visible jaws dropped at what had just taken place. Over by the pantry, Claire was watching him with Aaron on her hip and a proud expression on her face. Yes, those are my boys, her smile said. I’m not going to lose either of them to a watery grave.

To the rest of the camp, Desmond just gave a shrug and set off towards the tent after Charlie, hoping to gain some insight into whatever it was that had given him this new lease of life, leaving the spectators to their own conclusions.

X

Charlie had a plan. Well, he had about half of a plan depending on what happened once they got down to the Looking Glass and found out what was actually waiting for them there. Maybe it was less than half a plan. Maybe it wasn't a plan at all. All he knew was that he really didn't plan on dying today, and that he couldn't tell Desmond that. Desmond had probably guessed given that Charlie had been remarkably upbeat throughout the last couple of days since they'd volunteered to make the dive; his behaviour was hardly that of a man who had accepted his inevitable fate and was giving up on life. No, Charlie had a plan to survive this latest encounter with death, but he was acutely aware that if he told Desmond his theory then it would be immediately undermined.

All the same, that didn't mean that he couldn't take some precautions just in case the plan turned out to be not that great a plan after all and he did meet his doom down there.

They'd paddled out to the location of the Looking Glass, following the power supply cables from the beach, and now they were sitting right above it, ready to make the plunge. Charlie peered down through the water, but it was too deep to see anything of their ultimate destination other than an ominous shadow sitting on the ocean floor. It was incredibly deep, and even though Charlie considered himself an accomplished swimmer, even he was getting cold feet at the prospect of actually going down there. At least Desmond would be coming too.

"Are you ready?" Desmond asked presently. "All the pieces of the grand plan that you don't want to share are in place?"

"It's not that I don't want to share it, it's more that I'm worried that something will go wrong if I do." And also because he didn't have all that much of a plan in the first place and Desmond would probably have a heart attack if he realised just how unprepared he was. He'd probably get knocked out with a paddle and Desmond would go down alone which, although good from the perspective that Desmond had not foreseen his own death and therefore would probably be all right, it didn't go along with what Charlie had in mind for defeating his destiny once and for all, rather than just keep putting it off.

"I know, I know. You've got your reasons. I do hope that if we both get out of here alive then you'll share them with me."

"Of course. Let's just get this over with first though, ok?" He paused. "Desmond, if anything does happen down there..."

"It's not going to."

"Yes, but if it does... Hang on, have you had any more flashes?"

Desmond shook his head. "No. I don't tend to have one until after the previous one's come to pass. We'll have to get through this first before whatever oracle that it is deigns to give me any more clues."

"Ok. Good. Well, not good, but you know what I mean. Anyway, if something does happen, promise me that you'll take care of Claire and Aaron."

"With my life, Charlie."

Charlie shuddered at the phrase. "All right. No more talk of life and death. I'm going down. Give me enough time to get down there, then follow me."

Desmond nodded his agreement and Charlie pulled off his shoes. He'd sounded a lot surer of himself than he actually felt, but they said that if you acted a part well enough then everyone would believe that it was true.

He took a deep breath and dived ungainly into the water, making the outrigger sway on the waves. The salt water stung at his eyes, but he just kept swimming downwards to the structure that was becoming a lot less shadowy but no less ominous. He had a plan. Everything was going to be all right.

X

“Well, that was exciting.”

Desmond’s tone of voice made it clear that it had been anything but exciting, but Charlie didn’t question it. He was far more concerned with trying to memorise the code that Bonnie had given him, because it was a lot of numbers, and he was sure that he wasn’t going to remember them all. Between Bonnie, Greta, and Patchy returning from the dead for the - was it the second or the third time – it had been quite the ride; not at all the plain sailing that Charlie had hoped it would be. The plan had been to get in and get out again; he hadn’t bargained on being tied up for a few hours or witnessing Desmond harpoon a man.

Still. Needs must, and sometimes, needs must use harpoons in the name of getting everyone off the island safely.

Charlie sincerely hoped that Desmond had a head for numbers. He had to have done, he’d been punching them into the computer in the hatch for three years. Although, those were the same numbers over and over.

He shook his head, otherwise the hatch numbers would supersede the code numbers. Who in their right mind had a code like that? It was utterly ridiculous. Still, there was nothing for it. He entered the room, taking a deep breath although he wasn’t exactly sure why. There wasn’t any water in it yet. This was the moment of truth, the moment in which he’d very quickly find out if his plan was worth anything.

He keyed in the first few digits of the code, listening to the tones the keypad made, and he came to a realisation. He didn’t need to know the rest of the code. It was already drilled into the back of his mind. He didn’t know the numbers, but he would recognise that sound pattern anywhere.

“It’s Good Vibrations,” he said to himself. “Whoever programmed this was a musician.”

He ignored the numbers, going for the sounds instead. Now that everything depended on it, he was second-guessing his own memory. He closed his eyes and hummed the famous bars to himself a couple of times. He could do this. Everything was going to be all right and he was determined not to drown if he could help it.

He punched in the rest of the code, and the readout on the screen told him that it was correct. All he had to do now was flip the switch.

You flip a switch. The light goes out. And then you drown.

Charlie took a deep breath and flipped the switch. Above him, the flashing orange light died. He closed his eyes and waited for something to happen, some kind of rush of water from the depths. Outside the console room he could hear Desmond rushing around collecting Scuba gear for the swim back up to the outrigger. Everything was normal. Had his plan worked without him having to do anything, then?

"Hello?"

A scratchy, staticky voice from the console brought him back to himself and all thoughts of his imminent demise fled as he found himself face to face with a rather grainy satellite image of Penny.

"Penny!"

"I'm sorry, who are you? Where are you?"

"Oh, yes, right, sorry, I'm Charlie, you don't know me, but I know Desmond. Desmond!" he yelled back out into the main station. "Desmond, Penny's on the phone!” He turned back to the screen and the incredibly confused Miss Widmore. "Are you on the boat?"

Her expression just became even more confused. "Pardon?"

"The boat." Charlie felt his insides begin to turn to ice. "You know, the boat that Naomi came from. The boat that she said you sent to come and rescue us. And Desmond. Desmond get in here!"

"Charlie, I have no idea what you're talking about, I'm in London, I don't have a boat, I haven't sent one. I don't know anyone named Naomi."

"Oh crap."

"Charlie?"

Desmond was running towards the console room, Penny was trying to work out what on earth was going on, and there was a tapping noise at the porthole. Charlie looked over at it on instinct, and the ice in his guts became even worse as he saw Patchy grinning at him from the water outside, Scuba gear on, holding a...

"Where the hell did you get a hand grenade from? And don't you ever die?"

"Charlie!" Both Penny and Desmond were screaming his name in unison, and then there was the rush of water that Charlie had been expecting. Oh crap. This was definitely not part of his plan. He couldn't very well drown now when he'd just learned that Claire getting on that helicopter might not be the escape from the island that they wanted for her after all.

The door was a little way open and he pushed it further, the rush of water doing the rest, and he was swept out straight into Desmond, sending them both flying as the station began to flood.

"It's not Penny's boat!" Charlie yelped, trying to keep his head above water.

"What?"

"Naomi's boat..." He decided that it would probably be better to focus on getting out of the Looking Glass rather than trying to explain everything to Desmond when they were both about to drown, and he took a gasp of air before diving under, out towards the pool where they'd entered. The breath hadn't really been big enough and his head was pounding with the need to let out the air and take another breath; black spots were dancing in front of his eyes. He felt a hand grab him and in his oxygen starved panic, he thought it was Patchy caught up to him again and he flailed about trying to shake him off. Then he realised it was Desmond, and he grabbed the scuba mask that was floating around between them, gratefully taking a gulp of air. Desmond had evidently only been able to grab one before everything had flooded, but it was better than nothing, and they slowly made their way back up to the surface and the outrigger together.

For a long while after they clambered back into it, all they could do was just lie there and get their breath back whilst the scorching sun attempted to dry them.

"What were you saying about Penny's boat?" Desmond asked eventually, and on hearing the words, Charlie sat bolt upright again, suddenly and immediately alert.

"It's not Penny's boat! I spoke to Penny in the room before it flooded."

"You spoke to Pen?"

"Why do you think I was yelling for you to come over, you cretin?" Charlie gave a huff of annoyance. "Anyway, Naomi's lying. She said that Penny had sent her and the boat to come and rescue us. Penny's still in London and she has no idea what's going on, she doesn't know anything about this!"

For a long time, Desmond didn't say anything, and Charlie was wondering if he had water in his ears or was suffering from some kind of oxygen deprivation to the brain. He was on the verge of shaking him to try and get across the vast implications of what he'd just learned, when Desmond finally spoke.

"Well, that's a bugger."

"It's more than a bugger!" Charlie exclaimed. "We need to warn everyone else that Naomi and the other people on the boat are not what they seem! And how did Naomi know that we'd trust her if she said that Penny had sent her? Anyway, that's beside the point, the point is that everyone's in danger and you'd better have a vision of Claire not getting on that helicopter soon because who knows what might happen if she does!"

"Charlie, I completely appreciate the need to warn the others, but we can't exactly do that whilst we're in the middle of the ocean, so shall we get back to the beach first and take it from there?"

Considering Desmond was usually one for panicking, the calm and pragmatic approach surprised Charlie, and he dutifully took up his paddle as they steered back towards the beach.

"Since we're both still alive, can I ask about your plan now?" Desmond asked as they paddled.

"I guess so. I just had a hunch. All these times you've prophesised my death, you've been the one to save me from it."

"That's true. I suppose that since I was the one who had the foreknowledge, it made sense for me to be the one to save you. That vision had to have come to me for a reason."

"I know. Anyway, I had an idea that if I was the one to save myself, then that would break the cycle, so to speak. If you knew what was coming but didn't interfere yourself - you left my fate in my own hands, either to accept it or try to change it. So, I chose to try and change it instead. And since I'm still here, I guess it worked. Well, for now at least.”

Desmond nodded. “I can’t fault the logic, certainly. Here’s hoping that you’ve beaten it once and for all.”

By the time they got back to the beach, it was clear that a lot had been going on whilst they’d been out at the Looking Glass. To call it chaos would have been doing it a favour. Charlie looked at the Dharma van, and the destroyed tents, and the dead Others, and then he looked at the little group of their own survivors who were gathered around.

“Do I even want to ask what happened here?”

“Probably not,” Sayid said, at the same time as Hurley said: “I ran over a bunch of guys.”

“Right. You know what, I’m not going to ask, because we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands.”

Sawyer just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What kind of a problem, short stuff?”

Charlie rolled his eyes at the moniker but there wasn’t enough time to get angry, not when Jack was quite possibly taking them towards a rescue that was anything but, and he launched into his explanation of what had happened down in the Looking Glass, and the ominous message from Penny that the boat was nothing to do with her.

Juliet and Sawyer looked at each other.

“We need to tell Jack,” she said. “I guess it’s up to everyone else to decide for themselves what they want to do, but we need to let them know.”

Sawyer nodded his agreement. “Yeah. We’re meeting up with all the others at the cockpit this evening. Come on, we ought to get going.”

He shouldered his rifle and took off into the trees, and gradually the rest of the camp followed on behind him, grabbing what weapons they had and filling up water bottles. Charlie just collapsed down onto the sand with a groan.

“Really?” he muttered. “I’ve just nearly drowned, paddled back to shore and given you incredibly important bad news, and now we’re going on another route march? Let a bloke get his breath back, why don’t you?”

Beside him, he heard Desmond chuckle, and then a familiar tanned hand was holding a water bottle in front of his face.

“Come on,” he said, giving Charlie a hand back to his feet. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we can reassure Claire that you haven’t been doing any self-sacrificing on her behalf, and the sooner we can work out a plan for what’s going to happen now that getting on the helicopter probably isn’t such a good idea.”

The meeting at the cockpit was exactly the shitshow that Charlie had expected it to be, with everyone arguing with everyone else about whether to trust the new arrivals or not. It was clear that the party was splitting into two – those who were with Jack and wanted to get off the island at any cost, and those who were with Locke and thought that it would be safer to stay firmly put rather than to entrust their rescue to a group of unknowns.

But through it all, Charlie only had thoughts for Claire, and when he saw her in the gaggle of survivors that Jack had led through the trees, he ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her and Aaron.

“The hero of the hour,” she said, before giggling and kissing him. “I’m so glad that you’re all right.” She looked over his shoulder at Desmond, who was standing a little apart, letting them have their own moment. “Thanks for taking care of him, Desmond.”

Desmond shrugged. “No, he took care of himself, actually. He had a plan all along.”

Claire just smiled. “I’m very happy about that.” She looked over at Locke and Jack and sighed. “What now, Charlie? Something’s telling me that we ought to go with Locke, if these people can’t be trusted to get us out then I don’t want to risk Aaron’s safety like that. On the other hand, though…”

On the other hand, neither Charlie or Desmond entirely trusted Locke, and whilst Charlie would admit that through the haze of his own jealousy, Locke had been a good friend to Claire, sticking with Desmond and Charlie mattered more to her.

“If we stay together, then we’ll be all right,” Charlie said. “So, wherever you want to go, wherever you feel that Aaron will be safest, we’ll go with you.”

“That’s the problem,” Claire said. “The only place I know that Aaron will be safe is with me.”

Over in the main group, Rose had announced her intentions to remain with Jack’s group, and Charlie knew that Rose had no intentions of leaving the island, whether the newcomers supposedly sent to rescue them were benign or not.

“I think we’ll be better off at the beach,” he said. “We know it there, it’s familiar territory. And I think you’d feel safer there. A nice, wide open space. Hard to sneak up on someone from the ocean.”

Claire laughed weakly. “I guess you’re right.” She hooked her arm through his. “Back to the beach it is, and on the way you can tell me all about your plan for cheating death.”

X

 To say that the next few days on the beach were fraught would probably be the understatement of the century. Although they had decided to stick together, Desmond was worried about Penny, and how come the people on the freighter who had said that they'd been sent by her, and whom she knew nothing about, knew about her. If she was in danger and it was somehow Desmond's fault, then he would never forgive himself, and so it was with a heavy heart that he went with Sayid out to the freighter to try and work out what was going on. 

That was when things had started to get scary. Claire cuddled Aaron close as a confused and terrified Desmond's voice resounded over the satphone, convinced that he was in 1996. It was the lack of recognition that cut the deepest, the fact that only a few short hours ago, everything had been all right and well in the world, and they had been rejoicing in Charlie's survival, and now Desmond didn't have a clue who she and Charlie were. Daniel was trying his hardest to explain everything to Desmond, and Claire knew that she and Charlie crowding around him probably wasn't going to be helping matters, but at the same time, she desperately wanted to know what was going on and if he was getting any better. 

A part of her really wished that he hadn't gone. They were meant to stick together; that was the entire reason why they'd all gone back to the beach, but Claire couldn't really blame Desmond for wanting to make sure that Penny was all right. It was strange, she was just as much a part of this relationship as the three of them were, despite her being on the opposite side of the world and not knowing anything about Claire and Charlie. Her importance in Desmond's life had become an importance in all the rest of their lives as well, and Claire had to wonder if she would ever get the chance to meet the mysterious woman. She'd seen her photograph; Desmond never went anywhere without it. She hoped that they would meet someday. She wanted to meet the person that Desmond cared about so much. 

The waiting for news was getting to be painful, and Claire had taken to walking up and down the beach with Aaron on her hip just to try and get rid of some of the nervous energy that was plaguing her at the moment. The rest of the group left her to it, although she was getting some odd looks from Charlotte. Daniel was too preoccupied with sorting out what was happening on the freighter to pay much attention, and everyone else knew about the relationship. Charlotte was clearly intrigued as to why Charlie and Claire, ostensibly a monogamous couple, could be so incredibly worried about a single man. 

There was an exclamation of triumph and Claire turned to see Charlie running across the beach as fast as he could over the uneven sand, his arms windmilling for balance as he came over to her. 

"He's ok," he said breathlessly. "Whatever it was that Daniel told him to do, it worked. So, there's no danger of him losing all his remaining marbles just yet."

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god for that. Are they any closer to working out what's going on with the freighter and who sent it?"

Charlie shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Apparently everyone's being rather cagey and no-one really trusts Desmond and Sayid enough to tell them anything, but it sounds like half the crew's going mad, so maybe we are better off cutting our losses and staying here." Charlie held his hand up to block out the sun and looked out towards the sea, beyond the horizon to where the freighter was. "I'm half-inclined to think that Desmond and Sayid might just commandeer the thing and get us all out here by any means necessary."

"Well, Sayid could certainly do it. I'm not quite so sure about Desmond but he's determined when he wants to be, we all know that." Claire glanced over in the same direction, wishing that she could see the freighter and reassure herself that Desmond was all right. "It'll be ok. We've got to stay positive."

It was hard, though, when things kept going wrong and it wasn't entirely clear who could be trusted. Even within the network of the freighter crew, there were clear divisions. Those like Charlotte, Daniel and Miles who had come on what they perceived to be a scientific expedition, and those who were far more concerned with wiping Linus off the face of the planet. Considering that Locke had taken Linus back to the Others' village with him, Claire was quite glad that she hadn't gone along as well. 

When it became clear that nowhere on the island was going to be safe from the mercenaries that the freighter had brought along with its possible allies, Claire and Charlie looked at each other. Sayid had come back with the raft and was loading people onto it, ready to evacuate. The rest of the A-Team were all over the place; Hurley was nowhere to be found. Desmond, however, was on the freighter. He was out there, and he was ready to receive them, ready to make sure that they could get off the island once and for all. For all they might not have trusted the freighter folk to start with, and for all they had been justified in that belief, right now that boat was the only way for them to get away safely.

"You need to go," Charlie said, nodding towards the Zodiac craft that Sayid was quickly filling with people. "You and Aaron need to get on that boat and get out to the freighter."

"What about you?" 

"I'll be ok, I'll get the next boat." Charlie was ushering her forwards. There was only going to be one place left in the boat, and she couldn't ask anyone else to stay behind just so that she could make sure that Charlie was going to be all right. "Desmond's already there, so he'll make sure that you're ok. It's going to be fine, I promise. I'll be right behind you."

Sun and Jin, already sitting in the boat, gave Charlie a grateful smile as Daniel pushed it off and they headed out towards the freighter. Claire looked behind her until Charlie was no longer visible, and then turned her face into the wind, holding Aaron close and closing her eyes. She could hardly believe it. She was away from the island at last, after she had almost given up hope of ever leaving it. Now, she was one step closer to getting home. 

Of course, getting home presented several more challenges in and of itself. Once they were on the freighter, there was no guarantee that the freighter could get them to where they needed to be, and there was the small matter of them being supposedly dead at the bottom of the ocean. It would certainly cause a stir when they arrived home in Sydney or wherever and the world realised that they were still alive. It would raise all kinds of questions as to where they had been for the past three months and who on earth had the resources and expertise needed to fake an entire plane crash. And of course, why anyone would want to do that in the first place. From what Claire had heard Desmond say in snippets here and there when he had talked about Penny and her father, it seemed that Charles Widmore was certainly the kind of person who would do such a thing and had everything at hand to pull it off. 

There were all kinds of island politics going on that Claire didn't even hope to understand, but she knew instinctively that letting other people know about the island and all the weird and wonderful things that had happened here would not be a good idea. Although there were enough of them that hopefully they wouldn't all immediately be carted off to the mental ward, it was still something of a worry. 

She shook her head and focused on the shape of the freighter as it came into view. There would be time enough to worry about what would come next later. For now, they actually had to get free of the island. If Desmond and Sayid's reports from the freighter were anything to go by, then that might be easier said than done. Its influence seemed to extend far beyond its boundaries. 

Finally, they reached the freighter, and the process of getting everyone off the Zodiac and onto the boat began. Desmond was there assisting with proceedings, and it seemed like, in the absence of the mercenaries who were now swarming all over the island looking for Linus, the rest of the crew were more willing to help with the evacuation of the Oceanic survivors. 

Once everyone was on board, Daniel turned the Zodiac around, and Claire honed in on Desmond. He came over to her, weaving through the scared crowd on the deck, and he put his arms around her and Aaron. 

"I'm so glad that you're ok," he said. "Where's Charlie, how's he doing?"

"He's getting the next boat over, there wasn't room for him and we didn't want to ask anyone else to give up their place when we're so close to finally getting off the island."

"Yeah." Desmond looked guilty, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry that I didn't come back with Sayid," he said. "I just... I've spent so long on that island that once I was finally free of it, I didn't want to go back, just in case I never got the chance to get off it again."

"Hey, it's ok." Claire went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I understand. It'll be ok. I'm here now, and Charlie's nearly here, and then we'll be able to get out of here together and work out what the hell happens next."

"Yes." Desmond gave a little sigh, a satisfied sound. He was nearly home, wherever home might be for him. That was another thing to think about. It was one thing for the survivors of the Oceanic flight to be found having been presumed dead, but what about Desmond and Juliet, who'd both been on the island for three years before the plane even crashed? How could they be explained when the time came?

She shook her head, determining to think no more about it. No more worrying today. She'd done enough worrying over the last couple of days to last her a lifetime, and she really needed to concentrate on the present. They weren't out of the woods just yet. 

"You find somewhere to sit with Aaron out of the way," Desmond said, and he guided her over towards a corner, sheltered behind a container. "I just want to see what's going on downstairs, I haven't seen Michael for a while."

"Michael? Michael Dawson? Our Michael? What's he doing here?"

"It's too complicated to explain," Desmond said. "I'm not entirely sure that I understand it myself, but I'll tell you everything in a minute."

He left her then, and Claire just settled down with Aaron. He was getting fussy, wanting to nurse, and Claire realised with a grimace that she hadn't brought any dry nappies with her. They'd have to make do for a while, presumably there were sheets and towels on board the freighter that she could use, although from what she could see of it, the place did look pretty spartan. 

She got Aaron settled on her breast and leaned back against the container, watching the comings and goings. Just a few more minutes and Charlie would be back, and they'd all be safe. Nothing was going to go wrong. They'd figure out what to do, and then their lives could finally move forward. The chopper was coming back, and Claire could just about make out Hurley and Kate inside it. 

That was when everything started to go pear-shaped. 

Claire wasn't sure that she had ever seen so much chaos in one place. Possibly in the aftermath of the crash itself, with fire and fumes and blood and screaming, but she'd been too busy having contractions to really pay much attention to it all then. Now, she was absolutely aware of it, and it terrified her. All she could think about was Charlie, on the Zodiac headed towards a boat that was rigged to explode at any moment. As much as she was desperate for him to get here and get away from the island with her, a part of her knew that he would be safer where he was. Then Desmond was hurrying her towards the helicopter, and they were taking off, and they had come so close, but to no avail. Back to the island they would have to go. 

As they flew overhead, Claire could see the Zodiac beneath them, but she couldn't make out Charlie from so far away. The boat looked like it was still heading towards the freighter, and she wanted to yell at them to go back. 

Then, the freighter blew and everything went blindingly white. 

When Claire opened her eyes, the island was gone. So was the smoking freighter. So was the Zodiac. 

So was Charlie. 

[nikkifinnie-blog]

Mike Cambra - Death By Stereo and The Adolescents

When, where and why did your dream as a musician begin? I grew up around a lot of musicians and was going to shows at a young age. My Dad grew up playing guitar and bass as a young kid and played in a ton of bands growing up, and he still played in some when I was growing up and is an amazing bass player. Most of my uncles were all in bands too. One of my uncles on my Dad's side was in a band called The Tubes who had some hits in the past and still drew pretty big crowds. We would go watch them when they toured through the area. It was cool to see my uncle up there completely killing it on stage, I came to realise how insanely talented he is. As a kid watching him on stage I always thought having all these people go nuts to your songs was a really cool thing, it looked so fun but completely terrifying at the same time. I knew really young that I wanted to do that.  When and why did you choose to sing? Did this ever change, if so why? Also, do you play multiple instruments and if so which is your favourite to play and why? Well, I'm predominately a drummer in the bands I play in but I started out playing bass guitar. When I was around 9 years old my Grandfather had an accident with a lawnmower and injured some fingers. When this happened he asked my Dad if I wanted his bass guitar because he couldn't play it anymore - I was totally stoked. When he gave it to me my Dad let me plug into his amps and play it when, luckily for me he was in bands so we had a jam room at the house. I was enamoured. Eventually my parents got me my amp. It was so much fun once I just learned the very basic notes and all I wanted to do was sit in my room and learn songs that I liked, that vibe you get when you are first able to play along with a song was amazing, it was like getting high before I really knew what that was. As I was starting to learn bass my brother had gotten a drum set. We both messed around a lot on the instruments but he was also involved in a lot of sports so that took a lot of his time. By that time for me I wasn't really into team sports, I liked skating and playing music, so when he was at sports practice or not around I'd try to jump on his drums and play. I was too nervous to play in front of anyone so when I was alone I'd go for it. I remember just slowly getting more interested in the drums and playing bass only at night when it was too late to drum cause of the noise. After another year or so I wanted to learn guitar also cause I felt like it wasn't that different from bass and I wanted to be able to play everything in the songs I was trying to learn. Getting into punk around the same time, some of the more simple stuff I was able to pick up on all three instruments and it made me want to get better at all of them so i could play harder songs. It was like a contest to myself to play harder tunes. I think it was just because I got better at drums quicker than the other instruments I just went with that as my primary interest. It was like the better you got, the more fun it became because I could play more songs.  Any major influences?  A specific song? Well style-wise while I was just starting out I'd have to say the early 90's Epitaph/fat stuff mostly. With the help of my brother turning me onto most of this stuff, I'd say bands like: Lagwagon; Strung Out; Propagandhi; The Suicide Machines; NOFX; The Vandals, and then some more Ska stuff like Operation Ivy and Meal Ticket kind of shaped my playing. Eventually I started getting into heavy stuff cause I had some straight-edge friends that introduced me to more of the hardcore scene. As far as a personal influence - I'd be lying if I said that anyone had a bigger impact on me than Josh Freese . When I was like 13/14 years old some older dudes I played in a band with called Peanut n' Me would all go to the Showcase Theater in Corona to see The Vandals' Christmas-time shows. He was insane, I'd never seen someone play like that before, he was effortless but crushing - smoking a cigarette with one hand and playing with one hand through an entire song without it even being audibly noticeable. He was what I wanted to be. I thought that 'Live Fast, Diarrhea' was the coolest punk drumming performance out and it's still my favorite record for punk drumming. A very close 2nd , and at times a first, is Derrick Plourde from Lagwagon. On the same level as 'Live fast', is 'Duh and Trashed' for me. I spent hours and hours trying to learn Derrick's fills. One of the most fun to listen to drummers in punk. I don't think I'd hear any arguments if I was to say he is one of the most creative drummers to grace the genre. Unfortunately I never got to watch him in person before he passed, I would have loved to geek out to him. RIP Derrick.  Successes and failures along the way? Hahaha! I think success and failure is subjective. To what I thought I would have done with drumming I would say I've had some success, not really a financial one but more for the experiences I've had. When I was a teenage dipshit I never would have thought drumming some punk-rock songs would have taken me across the globe so many times so far. I cant begin to describe how stoked I am for the things I've seen and gotten to do with some of my best friends. I actually just got back home from playing on the Flogging Molly Salty Dog Cruise alongside the bands that have influenced me like crazy; Lagwagon and The Vandals. One of the days I found myself floating around on a beach on a private island in the Bahamas right next to Josh Freese, it was pretty surreal to be swimming in the ocean right next to one of my biggest influences. I probably sound like the biggest dork now hahaha!  As far as failures, well I can't pay rent or buy a house from just drumming yet so I guess there's that haha. I don't know if I'd say not getting a band you audition for is a failure, but as long as I don't totally botch an audition I don't really get that burnt. You can't be the guy for every band, unless you're Josh Freese and you drum for a million different rad bands hahaha! Any funny stories – lessons learned? Every tour you do there's a ton of those stories that when you get home you spend hours just punishing your friends with cause you just want to relive some of those experiences. I don't know..punk rock climbing near Bondi Beach with The Casualties, Ten Foot Pole, Strung Out and a few others while out in Australia on a tour was pretty ridiculous. Seeing dudes in punker boots was a fun thing to see. I'd say a good lesson you learn from touring is just to relax and go for it. Tour can get stressful as hell and with a bunch of other grown men all traveling in a van (or bus if you're one of the lucky ones) together for weeks or months can be stressful if you're the type of person who can't live outside their comfort zone. The less you stress, the easier and more fun your time is. I mean, you get to travel with a bunch of your friends playing shows in different cities/countries, often you have to take a step back and realise how lucky you are to be doing this and living this kind of a ridiculous life.  Recommendations for those wanting to play your instrument or sing and get into the business? The biggest type of advice I would tell anyone that's trying to be a full-time musician is go play with EVERYONE. Take as many opportunities as you can, even if it's not immediately rewarding it might lead to something that is, because you never know what can happen. One thing could lead to another which eventually lands you in a crazy place that you would have never gotten to if you didn't do the 5 things that lead up to it. Also; don't be afraid to listen and take criticism, some people can be a total dick about things but take it with a grain of salt and always try to improve. If someone has constructive criticism about your playing, be able to admit to yourself if they're right and don't let them be able to say the same next time they see you play.  Your future plans? This summer I'm gonna be quite busy. I have an East Coast tour and a 5 week long European/UK run with The Adolescents, and then I'm in the process of booking some runs with Death By Stereo. Actually, Death By Stereo is in the UK right now playing a bunch of sick shows with our buddy David Fajardo filling in for me. I wasn't able to go due to the Flogging Molly Cruise Line but I'm stoked he was able to help us out - he's an amazing drummer that also drums in Stay Wild and In Decline. He's a dude that you'll be seeing more of.  In July Adolescents has a new album coming out called "Crop Duster" on Concrete Jungle. pretty excited for it to come out, I'm really happy with how this album turned out. Everyone in the band had a hand in the songwriting which made it super diverse for us. Death By Stereo is also writing right now for an upcoming album that we'll be trying to tour as much of worldwide as we can to support it. DBS are kind of the boy-scouts of hardcore/punk, we'll do the most DIY shit just to be able to go tour a rad place and we've been able to see some incredible places because of it. I'm also in another band called Common War that's more of a blackened hardcore/punk thing that also includes JP from Death By Stereo. Last year we released a record called "Possess Yourself" on Irish Voodoo Records. Hopefully by the end of 2018 we'll be recording our next one.  In addition to music, I also co-own a punk-rock/graffiti inspired street-wear brand called Learn To Forget with my homie Reilly Herrera. It's been such a fun thing to do with him. Ever since I saw a few things he made like 5 years ago I wanted be involved in his art. We just wanted to put out cool shit that our friends would rock and it just started organically becoming something more than I think he or I imagined and everything we put out is 100% designed by Reilly. He's one of those guys that is just inherently artistic. The company is literally just him and I. The brand is completely inspired by the punk-rock lifestyle that we - being in DIY touring bands - live as a reality. We launched the company in 2013 with a mindset that comes with being in bands for so long and just wanting to do something real and rad. Reilly plays bass in a mindfucking band called Night Verses. I think they are one of the most talented bands out right now, as original as it gets and talent just overflowing from all of them, aside from being the raddest dudes. Slowly the brand has gotten busier and developed into something that we're both completely stoked on. Check out our gear on Facebook, Instagram at 'learntoforget_' , or at www.learntoforgetbrand.com .    Which specific instrument did you start with and what is a good starter instrument? As far as drums, when I started playing it was on my brother's Pearl Export kit; random cymbals, random metal snare, random everything. I didn't know about good equipment and didn't care, I was just stoked to play. I don't think there's a certain amount you should spend. If you're broke then just figure it out and make a Frankenstein kit just so you can play. Eventually you'll figure out how to get some better equipment. In the beginning I don't think its even necessary to have good equipment, its more important to learn how to play with what you have.  What do you play now? Nowadays I play a Masters of Maple custom kit. It's a company based out of Los Angeles and they sound great. For cymbals I play all Paiste, pretty stoked on how they sound live and in the studio. The kit and cymbals are pretty pricey but I get some help from them so it doesn't kill me that bad.  What is your dream instrument/set-up and how much?   Growing up I always dreamed of having a DW kit. Eventually I bought one and I sold it a few years later to buy this Masters of Maple that I play now, so I guess I already got my dream kit and sold it? But honestly, if I could just have fresh heads and non-cracked cymbals forever that would be good enough for my dream kit, because I hit hard and cymbals break often haha, such is life...  https://www.facebook.com/officialtheadolescents/ Read the full article

[heartnhustleblog-blog]

Fear and Success go hand in hand

The best learning lessons are in your failures. Without failure, we would never learn. 

So many people I know, including myself put so much pressure on themselves to be perfect. We have become so afraid to fail this day and age, there is no wonder why anxiety issues are at their all time high. In an era where we are constantly forced, if not literally shoved in our faces, to compare ourselves to the success and progress of others. From personal experience, this makes it almost impossible not to be afraid to fail. Its almost like, were all racing up this super steep mountain trying to make it to the top, and if you just make on little false movement you’ll completely lose your place, and end up at the bottom with all the other failures. 

FEAR is such a powerful word, with so much context. I think most people live a life doing their best to steer clear of it. To fear something means its bad, end of story. If you are put into a fearful situation, you are putting yourself in immediate danger.

 I say, “BULLSHIT.” 

Fear is your ego guiding you to stay the same. 

Ego is lazy, ego hates change. Ego hates change because ego likes to stay in control. Ego would rather stay in a warm comfort blanket because it is easier that way. If you want change, if you want progress, if you want success, you need to challenge your ego.

Fear is not scary. Fear is just another way to say “Maybe” “what if” and “let us see”. Fear is temptation, challenge and a learning lesson all in one. Fear is chance and faith. It gives us the foundations to build trust. If you are afraid that’s a good thing! It gives you the first steps to beginning a journey, but you have to keep traveling forward to see the outcome.

Fear creates progress

If Bilbo didn’t agree to go with the dwarfs the Lord of the Rings would of never been written.  He didn’t want to at first, if fact he was just fine and dandy hanging out having second breakfast for the rest of his life. That was Bilbo’s ego. We know this because eventually, deep down, we found out that adventure was exactly what he had wanted for a very long time. 

How many times throughout your life have you been afraid of something, only to do it again and again so much that it just became second nature. Do you think your baby self was super confident to walk? No. I’m pretty sure your brain told your body many times that it was pretty freaking scary. You probably fell a lot, and sometimes it sucked, and each time your brain was like “ I dunno man, maybe we should keep crawling.” But after every failed attempt you learned something new, and eventually you took your first step…and then fell again. After many failed attempts you got the hang of it. Now, you don’t even think about walking, its just natural. (excluding the nights after one too many tequila shots and bad decisions).

My old roommate and I have a saying, “It is just like traffic.” When we first moved to the city, she was terrified to drive on the freeway. For someone who has never had to, it is pretty damn scary.  For the first few months she avoided driving at all cost. Until she met a boy, and was forced to endure the horrible concrete jungle maze of the city. Eventually, she got used to it. So much so by the end of our first year living in the city driving on the freeways was like second nature. In fact, it was optimal…learning the freeway system was easier than learning all the intricate side streets and dead ends of the city. That doesn’t mean there were many wrong turns, traffic jams, and very close near death experiences involved. Eventually though, every close call and wrong turn she learned more about the system. To the point that it was just part of life. So now, anytime we are in a situation we fear but it is vital to adapt to , we say to one another “its just like traffic.”

I am my hardest critic. At this point in my life I have lived past caring about the expectations of others. I could give a flying rats ass about what a majority of the population thinks about me. However, my biggest fear, is letting myself down. I have such high expectations for myself, that I am constantly afraid of disappointing myself. As a result through the years I have learned one thing. I would rather try it, and learn that I suck at it or don’t like it, than live my whole life wondering “what if.” My curiosity for experience out weighs my fear of failing. By now, I have become so good at failing that I’m pretty sure I could make it my career. The amount of experience I have from my failures have become so vast and broad that in truth, I could. For a long time I was uncomfortably obsessed with a guy. We had a couple little exchanges over the years but nothing to serious to render us to be the next Niccolas Sparks novel. One random night a friend convinced to text him to see how he was and to let him know I was thinking about him. The idea literally almost gave me a heart attack it made me so nervous. It had been about six months since our last encounter. Things were weird, and honestly didn’t really go so smooth. Finally after a few confidence lubricants (cocktails) I finally decided to hit send. My heart sank waiting for his response. I was so nervous I was shaking. In truth though I knew it was something I had to do. I was thinking about him, and I was curious about his new life. The worst that could happen was that he wouldn’t text back. In that case, I would then know that there was officially no point in trying ever again, and I could close that door for good. I fell asleep that night with confidence after not receiving a response, knowing that at least I got closure. I would of never had that without sucking down my pride. I was now free of my curiosity towards the situation. It was now the starting blocks that I need to help myself heal and move on from the situation.

I think instead of the fear of failure, we need to learn to embrace it. In 2016 Leticia Bufoni, a Nike Pro female skateboarder, face planted the concrete after trying to perform a very tactical trick in the super crown. It was her last shot at the crown that year and she blew it. She was immediately rush to hospital where she suffered several head injuries. You think that stopped her from getting back up and trying again? Ego bruised, and a little terrified. I have no doubt that the first push off after the incident was just a wee bit shaky, but she pushed through it (literally). She got back on her board and ended up winning second place in 2017. She studied her failures, she embraced them, she learned from her mistakes and used them to become a better athlete. In an interview later asking her about her fear of falling she could only say “I can’t give up, that’s not an option.” Her fear of not trying, out weighed her fear of failing. 

If you fall off of the horse, dust that shit off, and get back on. Every fall you learn something, and every attempt the horse uses to buck you off wears it out. Eventually ones going to give. Either you give up, or the horse breaks. 

Either you give up, or something happens that leads you to success. 

Or at minimum progress. The best thing you can do for yourself is to teach yourself to find love and passion in the progress and the process and not to focus on the finish line. When we notice an athlete we only ever see their results. We only ever see them winning the race, the game, or the competition. People hardly think about what they had to do to get there. No one considers the hard work and sacrifices they had to make. Failed relationships, not being able to eat certain things, giving up a constant social life, days when you’re body is so tired and sore it’s hard to even chew, but you have to because you have to cram in a certain amount of calories to sustain your body. People want a big booty but never consider that it takes a lot of hard work in the gym and a lot of times to sit on the toilet hurts. It hurts to walk 5 days out of the week. Football players and extreme athletes often have body aches and constant head aches from previous impact to their head. Female runners usually sacrifice the ability to conceive due to the long term effects it has on their body. When you see an amazing photo of a well trimmed body and body composition competitors, they generally are starving during the shoot or competition. Yet, I can bet though if you were ask a majority of athletes why they do it, they’ll tell you something along the lines of “ because I love seeing my progress, I love the challenge, I love seeing how much my hard work pays off. I love the process.”

Life is scary, but that’s why it is so fun. Understanding why you are afraid of something and confronting it is the first steps towards being stronger and confident. Once you know why you’re scared, you can confront it. Failing from our risks teaches the fundamentals needed to be better. I gives us the building blocks to change the outcome. If you don’t asses your fears you can’t figure out what you need to change in order to see progress. Every step small or big is just a journey in a very intricate Maze. There’s many side quests and goals and speed bumps and bad luck you’ll meet along the way. Just stay focused on what you learn, and trust that everything is progress, even the set backs.

[keepingupwithbarcelona-blog]

My Moroccan Experience

First Day:

The flight to Marrakech, Morocco was about 2.5 hours (I think, I slept the entire time). The customs line was the longest line I have ever waited in – way longer than the lines at Disney World’s most popular attractions. We were 2 hours later than when we were supposed to arrive because of the delay from the airport and the long customs line. After we made it through, we went to the front of the airport where we met our mentor for the break. The 30+ of us split into groups with different mentors and took a van to the hotel. I didn't know what to expect of Morocco. I didn’t research a thing about it before I left. I didn’t even know what the flag looked like, but I sat in the van and peered out at the city around us. The scenery was beautiful. It was like a colonized jungle; there were so many tropical-looking trees everywhere. We are in an urban location, even though compared to Barcelona it seemed more rural. We passed by a park, where I saw a group of locals. They were dressed dressed all types of ways: headscarves with traditional head to toe dresses, headscarves with modern styles, solely modern styles. It was definitely a culture shock to me. Europe/America are different in many ways, but they are not that far off from each other. I never had a big culture shock when I came to Barcelona because the modernity of the city wasn’t that much different than that of America. Here, however, was very different.

The van dropped us off not too far from the hotel we were staying at. We got out and walked the remainder of the way. As we headed to the hotel, a little girl came up to me and pointed to my itinerary that was printed on a green piece of paper. She seemed amazed and said things that I didn’t understand. She weaved throughout our group, pointing at those who had their paper out. The hotel wasn’t quite what I was expecting. There were four beds in the room. The room itself wasn’t terrible, but it didn’t appear very clean. But used only to sleep in, it was fine.

For dinner, we traveled to a women's center. We were supposed to meet the women of the center and be able to talk to them, but because we had arrived so much later than anticipated, that didn’t happen. However, we had delicious couscous with vegetables and chicken. Afterwards we had a delicious desert. When everyone finished, we drove back to the hotel and prepared for the next day.

We were also given a list of cultural do’s and dont’s.

Second day:

We woke up and had breakfast next to the hotel. It was a lot of variation of breads and jams/jelly. We had orange juice and mint tea to drink. I’ve had mint tea with every meal (it really helped with the dry cough I've been having this week). We went on a tour of Marrakech and visited a building that was an old university (I forget what the building is used for now).

After the tour, we walked back to the hotel. There was an enormous marketplace next to the hotel we were staying at. We weaved through and some venders had snakes and monkeys. The one guys put a snake on one our students! I was actually terrified.

Afterwards, we went shopping at the local market (we avoided the people with snakes). Everything is there from spices to knickknacks to clothing. I brought a scarf, a bowl and a snow globe for my mom. It is custom to bargain for your price, and usually you can get the price you want if you are firm. The snow globe cost “$50 but $40 DH for you,” the vender said (DH = Moroccan currency) and I asked if I could have it for $25, and the guy said, "yeah, that's fine."

We were supposed to be doing a homestay this trip, but the informed us when we arrived that it wasn’t happening. There was a law passed recently in which Moroccan people had to pay in order to host a family, so instead we were staying in a rural guest house – away from the urban city. We checked out of the hotel, got on the bus and traveled to where we were having lunch. I got a turkey sandwich (I hadn’t had turkey at all in Spain. Not once) and we had fries. Afterwards, we all got to ride camels. Our mentor Medhi told us that we weren’t going to be riding camels this trip, so everyone on the bus started screaming in excitement. It was scary at first, but really exciting. I have never rode an animal before in my life. 

Afterwards, we went to our guest house. There wasn't any wifi and at first there wasn't electricity until they flipped then circuit. We stayed in a room of 5 people. We played riddles and clue games to pass the two hours of downtime that we had until dinner. There was also a dance party at the guest house, but I was bitten by a mosquito somehow and my nose was swelling up and my throat was as well (I would later find out it was unrelated). I was afraid I was having an allergic reaction and dying so I wasn't participating much other than watching everyone dance. I was fine. People also went on the roof of our guest house to take pictures and watch the sunset.

We went to dinner at a guest house that was a 10-minute drive from ours. Dinner was good: rice, vegetables and a traditional dish that I unfortunately forget the name of - and there was wifi! Which shouldn't have been so exciting to me, but it was. It wasn't bad going without wifi until I had it again.

We went back to our guest house where we had guests that entertained us with traditional Moroccan music and henna tattoos.

Third day:

We started off the day with breakfast at the same building we had dinner in. There were two options for what you could do today: go to a traditional bathhouse or go on a hike. My friends and I were going to the bath house. I thought we were traveling to the city or town to see it, but it turned out the location of the bath was where we were eating (in the other guest house). It was different than what I expected. Originally, I expected a hot tub type bath, and then they told us that it would be a sauna-type location so I expected a room with wooden seats lined around. There were six of us able to fit at a time. We went into a room that was the "changing room" where we laid our clothes. We were supposed to wear nothing but underwear. It was just a small room with a tile bench. There was a small door that led into a larger room which was humid, full of steam and there was a small well of hot water. There were buckets/pails that we filled with water. We put this honey-colored soap on our bodies and rubbed it in, waited five minutes, and then washed it off. And used regular soap to wash off the honey-type soap and then we got dressed. It was a really interesting experience. I was really soft afterwards. I enjoyed it and would definitely do it again!

Afterwards when the activities were over, we walked to the home of one of the villagers where we ate lunch. The wife/mother made us tajine with vegetables and chicken & seffa (a noodle dish with cinnamon and sugar). We ate the dishes with our hands. It's rude to eat with your left hand in Morocco, but as a left-handed person, it’s hard for me to eat naturally with my right hand. My mentor told me it was okay to eat with my left.  

After lunch, we met the people who lived in the house and got to ask them questions about the way of life here in the village and what education is like, what they do for fun, etc. The conversation was really enlightening. I learned more about what the daily lives of the people in the village were like. I was really grateful that the family was so welcoming to us.

Afterwards, we packed up our things and traveled back to the same hotel. We had some free time, so my friends and I went shopping at the market again and I brought two pairs of Moroccan pants. We had dinner at a restaurant in the market and I ordered beef kabobs but I was so full from the 2.5 pieces of bread and soup appetizer that I could barely eat it. For dessert, I had oranges and cinnamon that I ate all of them because you always have room for dessert.

Fourth Day:

We woke up and had breakfast again in the same place as the second day. We had a little time left, so we went shopping in the market again. I got a little trinket for my sorority little. Afterwards, we took the bus to the airport.

Reflection:

Morocco was a wonderful experience and place. Anyone that knows me knows that I can be a very materialistic person, but talking with the family on day three about how they didn't want for anything because they had what they needed really made me reflect. The guy had said something along the lines of, all he needed was "sugar, bread and electricity" and he was perfectly content with his life. It made me realize how I actually don't need all the things that I want. I also got a feel of an another entirely different culture, which I loved. As I said, I didn't really have a culture shock when coming to Barcelona because it is a cosmopolitan city. But in Morocco, the city life did not consist of giant buildings. In fact, the buildings weren't even made out of metal, glass or the concrete that we think of when we think of "city." The buildings were constructed with concrete and some kind of red clay. I enjoyed being in the rural area of the city more than the urban. I actually enjoyed being in the wide-open space. And because there wasn’t any wifi, my roommates and I bonded more than we would’ve been able to with it. We played games and riddles to pass the time.

To put it shortly, Morocco rocked my world.

[justbailey91]

  Charles, raised on the groove of Prince and smooth tone’s of Luther Vandross; uses these influences to inspire his music. The songwriter, born in Stevenage, explored Musical Theatre before finding his voice in music. His effort to express himself has birthed a unique sound, presenting his deep vocals as a current for his 70’s style funk to ride. Paired with his modelesque stature and youthful nature, his lyrics exposed arouses feelings of timelessness. Here’s what happened when we met.

  Where do you draw your inspirations from?

A lot of current artists have influenced me; like Tom Bailey, Nao, Jordan Rakai. When I was younger my Mum would play Prince and Pink Floyd and my Dad would play and lot of Luther Vandross. So its really just a merge of the two.

So I know you from your theatre background, what made you want to make the change from Musical Theatre to making your own music?

I love Musical Theatre still and I’ll never speak badly of it, but I feel like I was put into theatre as a child because my Mum didn’t know what else to do with me. All I knew was that I wanted to be creative, and Musical Theatre was a way I could express myself. As I got older, I realised I wasn’t able to be free in the way i wanted; I went to a Musical Theatre college, was constantly told that I wouldn’t work because my voice was too low and that I needed to sing higher. I was constantly told i should be something else, until I decided I was gonna make my own music.

You were the first person out of your year to get a professional job; how did it feel expressing yourself within the perimeters of a show?

It was hard. It was weird performing in front of over 2000 people and feeling nothing. Obviously, you feel something the first couple of times, but after that I felt nothing. It’s sad really. And there’s loads of people out there that would’ve loved my job, which is why i chose to leave.

What are your thoughts on British music now?

Its all about Grime and girls now at the moment, you have people like; Ray Black and Nadia Rose. They’re really pushing the British girl’s as well, which is great. I’m really trying to push my music though, to show a different side to British music.

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Do you find it daunting having such a unique sound and going up against the mainstream?

It is, but its nice. I like the idea of having a sound that its unique.

Thats how stars are made, you just have to be true to it.

100%, this is why I’m doing it, so I can express myself truthfully. I know that its not gonna be everyone’s cup of tea, it’s an acquired taste; my mum plays it to her mates and their like, “Oooh, I think maybe he’d sound good on one of them house tracks”. I’m like no.

Do you feel like you’ve found your sound and was it easy to attain?

No, I’ve been trying to work it out for the past 3 years. Last year was funny; I was just singing on tracks and there wasn’t much connection to the actual music. I just couldn’t work it out. I always knew I wanted a funky/sassy/soulful sound, so I could really feel it on stage, but it wasn’t happening. It’s only in the last 6 months or so that it’s come together. Now people listen to it and know that that’s my music.

So what does the EP sound like?

Some of the songs are quite old school, with a 70’s chilled vibe. It’s like a mellow-chill Prince track, that you’d just sit in the bath to.

With a cigarette.

Yeh and just act boujie!

So tell me about your recent trip to China?

It was good, but strange. I found it quite hard to switch off. Its like when you go on holiday; you love it for about 2 days and then get anxious about all the things you need to do back home. I was battling with that for ages and I had to keep telling myself to relax.

How long were you there for?

3 months. The first month was the hardest, but eventually I relaxed and that’s when the lyrics started pouring out. I was alone a lot of the time and there was language barrier; so I wandered around a lot.

Did you use any inspirations from your trip to China for your music?

That place is weird; Its like living in a concrete jungle, there are so many high rises, so much pollution, but they’ve put so much money into it, so next to these sky scrapers are a forests. I got a lot of inspiration from the beauty and the ugly of it all.

Do you find it hard to turn music down from producers, when it doesn’t fit your style?

Yeh, for so long I’d walk out of a studio and be like what am I doing. I felt like, ‘shit is this ever gonna happen, am i ever gonna find it’. When I went away it gave me time to just let things settle. I spent half the time trying be the artist I thought was suppose to be, instead of just being me.

It must be hard to keep your identity when there are so many musicians that have been pushed to a specific aesthetic. If you were approached by a label in this way, how would you deal with that?

I wouldn’t do it. I have my manager, Chloe, she believes in me just as much as I believe in myself. Everything is self-funded, on my terms and I love it this way. I’d love it if I never signed to a label actually, i’d love to just self-release and have control.

What has been the best moment in your career so far?

When I was sat with my boyfriend and we just listened to my music. I was so proud; usually I’d be shy, but I was really proud. Jim and I had a year plan, and he’s done everything he’s set out to do and so have I. It was nice.

What are the plans for the future and how do you plan to keep inspired now your back from China?

The EP comes out in May. I have some big plans, but you’ll just have to wait and see. It’ll be fun.Creatively, I just like to go in the studio, jam and see what we can come up with. Keep it fresh and organic. I have group of really talented friends, all in there own way. I get a lot of inspiration to keep going on from them, they’re all doing so well and they keep me going.

https://open.spotify.com/track/5UhRkfpPldUMefFEjutK14

iTUNES – https://itunes.apple.com/…/alb…/red-green-gold/id1195601986…

Couch Series: CHARLES Charles, raised on the groove of Prince and smooth tone’s of Luther Vandross; uses these influences to inspire his music.