#wilderness trail bikes

[thevintagemtb]

1985 Otis Guy, Steve Potts Type II fork, early WTB parts (brakes, hubs, shifter perches, handlebars, cable hanger).

[shirtcreekink]

[xo100]

Collisions and connections - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: While mountain biking in Germany with friends, you accidentally fall and cause none other than Lando Norris to crash into you. Though he's frustrated at first, the tension quickly turns into playful banter as you ride together. By the end of the day, Lando invites you to go karting with him, leaving you with an unexpected, flirty connection.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 2535

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Germany was always on your friend group’s list of adventure destinations, and today was no exception. The sky was a vibrant blue, with a scattering of white clouds drifting lazily above the dense woods. You had rented mountain bikes for the day, ready to tackle the scenic yet thrilling trails that cut through the forest. The air was filled with a crisp freshness that begged to be explored, and you and your friends were more than ready to answer the call.

After renting the bikes, you all gathered around the man who ran the rental service. He looked rugged, like someone who had spent countless days in the wilderness, and his experience showed. He gave a quick but detailed briefing on how to handle the trails, adjust the gears, and keep balance on uneven terrain. It all seemed straightforward, and the excitement in your group was palpable.

“Medium parkour it is, then!” your best friend, Mia, had announced with a grin, gesturing to the map of trails. It wasn’t the easiest route, but definitely manageable. A perfect mix of challenge and fun, with paths winding through the thick woods and just enough obstacles to keep things interesting.

So, there you were, cycling through the forest with the adrenaline pumping through your veins. The cool wind whipped past, making the trees blur as you sped through the trail. You were at the back, lagging a bit behind, but you didn't mind. You were enjoying the ride, taking in the sights, the sounds of nature mixed with the whirr of bike wheels over dirt and rocks.

Everything was going perfectly, until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Mia slammed on her brakes ahead of you to avoid a tricky curve. You reacted instinctively, jamming your brakes hard, but it was too late. The sudden stop sent you flying, tumbling over your handlebars, and before you knew it, you were on the ground, tangled up in your bike. A dull pain shot through your leg, but it wasn’t unbearable. The worst part was the embarrassment. You tried to quickly untangle yourself, hoping no one had noticed—your friends were already too far ahead to hear the commotion.

But someone did notice.

Before you could fully recover, a loud thud sounded behind you. The weight of another body landed just inches away, and when you looked up, you were met with the sight of a guy sprawled on the ground, his bike fallen to the side. His face was hidden beneath his helmet at first, but his groan of frustration was unmistakable.

“What the hell?” His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.

You scrambled to get up, wincing as you did, and turned to apologize. But when you saw who had fallen behind you, your heart nearly stopped.

Lando Norris. The Lando Norris, the Formula 1 driver. You’d recognize him anywhere, even with the helmet.

“Oh my God,” you stammered, eyes wide, “I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to—my friend, she just—“

He stood up, dusting himself off, and as he removed his helmet, his expression was nothing short of annoyed. His messy brown hair was slightly damp from the ride, and his hazel eyes met yours, sharp but surprised. He was about to say something, but then he paused, his anger seemingly dissipating as he took in the sight of you, flustered and apologetic.

“You—“ he started, but stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“I didn’t either,” you admitted, wincing as you tried to stand. The fall had left you with a few scrapes, but you were mostly fine. “Are you okay?”

Lando glanced down at himself, and then at his bike. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of a... surprise collision.”

You couldn't help but let out a small, nervous laugh, despite the situation. “I didn’t expect to cause a Formula 1 driver to crash. That's definitely not on my bucket list.”

His lips twitched at that, a faint smile appearing. “Well, at least it wasn’t in a car. That’d be much worse.”

Before you could respond, another voice cut through the scene. “Lando, mate, you alright?” A group of guys, his friends no doubt, appeared just behind him, all dressed in similar biking gear.

Lando waved them off. “Yeah, yeah. Just a little hiccup.”

One of them gave you a sympathetic look. “That looked like a rough fall. You alright?”

“I’ll survive,” you replied, still feeling a bit mortified.

Lando glanced at you, and there was something softer in his eyes now, like his frustration had melted away. “Need help with your bike?”

“I think I can manage,” you said, but as you tried to lift it, a sharp pain in your ankle made you wince.

Lando noticed immediately. “You sure? Looks like that fall did more than just bruise your pride.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but there was a playfulness to his tone that eased your nerves. “Fine. Maybe a little help.”

He knelt down, making quick work of untangling the bike and helping you to your feet. As he steadied you, his hand lingered on your arm for just a moment longer than necessary. The warmth of his touch sent a little flutter through your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered under his gaze.

“There,” he said, standing back up. “Good as new. Well, almost.”

You laughed lightly. “Thanks. I’m really sorry again, though. I didn’t mean to ruin your ride.”

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips now. “Guess it wasn’t all your fault. These things happen, right?”

His friends, seeing the situation was under control, started riding off slowly, leaving you and Lando a bit of space. He glanced back at them before turning to you again. “You sure you're okay to keep going?”

You tested your ankle, wincing a little but feeling mostly fine. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Just might take it slower from here.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? Because I’m already going slow, and you still managed to take me down.”

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes now, and you felt your cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey! You were the one right behind me,” you shot back, smiling. “Maybe you're not as fast off the track as you think.”

He laughed at that, a real, genuine laugh that made the tension between you fade completely. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, the sounds of the forest surrounding you. You could hear your friends further down the trail, but for some reason, you weren’t in a rush to catch up.

Lando tilted his head slightly, studying you. “So, what brings you and your friends out here? Just looking for some adrenaline?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We’re always up for an adventure,” you replied, leaning against your bike. “And Germany seemed like a good place to do that.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Good choice. Though, maybe next time, avoid taking out unsuspecting riders.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “Noted.”

There was something easy about being around him now, even though moments before, you had been sure he’d be furious. But Lando was clearly the kind of guy who didn’t let things like this get to him for long. In fact, now that the initial shock had worn off, it seemed like he was enjoying the banter as much as you were.

“Well,” he said, glancing down the trail, “if you need someone to keep an eye on you so you don’t wipe out again, I’m happy to volunteer.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’s in it for you?”

He grinned. “I get to say I saved the girl who made me crash.”

“Saved me, huh? Pretty sure I would’ve been fine without you.”

He leaned in just slightly, his smile turning a bit more teasing. “Maybe. But where’s the fun in that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the subtle flirtation, and you found yourself grinning back. “Alright, Norris. Try to keep up.”

With that, you pushed off, slowly starting down the trail again. And this time, when Lando followed, he stayed right beside you.

-

Lando stayed close by your side as you both navigated the trail at a slower pace. The tension from your earlier crash had dissolved completely, leaving behind an unexpected sense of ease between the two of you. It felt strange, like you had known him longer than just a few moments. You had expected some awkwardness, given that he was famous and you had, quite literally, knocked him off his bike. But instead, the playful banter flowed effortlessly, and you couldn't help but enjoy it.

“So,” Lando said, breaking the silence as you both rode through a section of the forest bathed in dappled sunlight, “is this what you and your friends do on a regular basis? Traveling the world, causing accidents?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, not usually. We're always up for an adventure, though. This time, it just happened to involve bikes... and, well, unplanned collisions.”

“Right,” he replied, his voice laced with teasing. “I’d say it’s a memorable introduction.”

You looked over at him, catching the smirk on his face. “Is that your way of saying you’re not mad about it anymore?”

He shrugged playfully. “I mean, it’s hard to stay mad when you’ve got someone as charming as you apologizing.”

You shot him a look, pretending to be skeptical. “Charming, huh? I’m sure you say that to all the girls who make you fall off your bike.”

His grin widened, and he slowed his pace to match yours as you hit a steeper incline. “No, just the ones who make me laugh afterward.”

Your heart fluttered slightly at the compliment, and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. It was a bit surreal to be here, biking through the German woods with Lando Norris—flirting, no less. But as surprising as it was, it also felt strangely natural.

You reached a flat part of the trail, and Lando nudged his bike a little closer to yours. “I never caught your name, by the way,” he said, glancing sideways at you.

“It’s y/n,” you replied, looking over at him. “And you’re Lando. Not that you need an introduction.”

He chuckled. “I figured you knew that part. But hey, I like hearing it from you.”

There was a brief pause as the two of you continued, and you noticed the distant sound of your friends’ voices up ahead. You probably should’ve been catching up, but the longer you rode alongside Lando, the less you cared about rushing back to your group. The trail wasn’t too crowded at this point, giving you and Lando plenty of space to continue at your own pace.

“So, what’s next for you and your adventure squad?” Lando asked, throwing a glance toward the path ahead. “More mountain biking, or something less... crash-prone?”

“Definitely not mountain biking again,” you joked, laughing. “At least not for a while. I think after this, we’re headed to Berlin. You know, something more touristy, less likely to involve hospital visits.”

He laughed along with you, shaking his head. “Probably a smart move. Though, if you want to keep the adventure going, I’ve got some suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well, you seem like the type who’d be into karting,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “And I just happen to know my way around a kart track.”

You gave him an exaggerated look of surprise. “Wow, what a coincidence! I bet you’re really fast too, huh?”

He grinned, leaning a little closer as you both slowed down again. “I’ve been known to have a bit of speed. Think you could keep up?”

You pretended to think it over. “Maybe. Or, I’ll just make you crash again.”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe your audacity. “You’re ruthless, aren’t you?”

“Only when necessary,” you shot back with a grin, feeling the easy warmth between you both growing with each playful exchange.

The two of you rode in comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, the trees and sunlight providing a calming backdrop. You could hear the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the leaves, and for a moment, it was just you and Lando, side by side, enjoying the simplicity of the ride.

Eventually, though, the voices of your friends grew louder, and you spotted them waiting at a clearing up ahead. Mia waved when she saw you, her expression a mix of concern and relief.

“There you are!” she called out as you approached. “We were about to come back and look for you!”

You smiled sheepishly as you stopped beside them. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh, had a bit of a fall.”

Lando, who had pulled up beside you, shot Mia a look. “More like she caused me to fall.”

Mia’s eyes widened in recognition as she took in who was standing next to you. “Wait... are you—?”

“Lando Norris,” he confirmed with a small smirk. “Long story, but yeah, she took me out on the trail.”

Mia’s jaw dropped, and your other friends looked equally stunned. But before anyone could freak out too much, Lando waved it off. “It’s all good. We both survived.”

You laughed, giving your friends a reassuring nod. “Yeah, no major injuries. Just a little pride lost.”

“Wow,” Mia muttered, still processing everything. “This is insane.”

Lando just grinned, glancing over at you. “It’s been... interesting, for sure.”

As your friends began gathering their things, preparing to head off again, Lando turned to you, his voice lowering slightly. “Hey, before you go...”

You looked up at him, curious. “Yeah?”

“How about that karting I mentioned?” His eyes twinkled with that same playful glint. “I’m sticking around in Germany for a few more days. I could give you a proper lesson—on a track, where we won’t crash.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You really want me to embarrass myself again, don’t you?”

Lando shook his head, his smile widening. “No, I just want to see if you can keep up this time.”

You bit your lip, considering it for a moment. “Alright, fine. You’re on.”

His grin was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped back, ready to rejoin his own group. “I’ll find a way to contact you,” he said, flashing one last look over his shoulder as he rode off. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

You watched him disappear down the trail, a mix of excitement and disbelief swirling inside you. Meeting Lando Norris had been completely unexpected, but now, the thought of seeing him again—this time on a kart track—was even more thrilling.

Your friends were buzzing with questions and comments as you all started riding again, but your mind kept drifting back to Lando. You had started the day thinking it would be just another adventure with your friends, but somehow, it had turned into something even better.

And if you were lucky, it was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

[foxbirdy]

can you talk a bit about what you do as conservation work? i’ve seen a couple of your posts float around (the seasonal worker comic and the one about the remote island) and have looked into conservation stuff a bit myself and it all looks super cool!! i was just looking for a bit of a more personable take that what job sites describe

Of course! :) A lot of the work I've done has been in either trail maintenance, habitat restoration, or biological fieldwork, with a little bit of outdoor recreation stuff mixed in. Pretty much all of those things (barring the outdoor rec) have been in partnership with or working directly for government agencies (DNR, USFS, BLM, NPS, USFWS, etc.)

Trail work is very trades oriented - you are using tools (generally handtools - especially if you are working in designated wilderness, which prohibits any kind of mechanization) and your body to build effective infrastructure that will last a good, long time. Project work covers a huge range - brushing trail, digging tread, building structures, fence repair, rock work/wall building, etc. Often you have to work with natural materials on the project site, because hauling in lumber or stone is not feasible. It's hands-on & technical work, and it needs a lot of creativity! Your end goal is that no one knows you were there at all, because your work blends seamlessly into the landscape. A lot of people who hike or mountain bike don't realize how much effort and complexity it takes to maintain a trail! It's a very secret service, & I think there's something really beautiful in that. It's dirty, hard work, and you'll very likely go long periods without access to service or utilities (lots of treating/filtering your own water, camp-cooking your meals, showering in the creek, and sleeping on the ground).

The habitat restoration I've done has generally involved the removal of invasive plants & the planting/seeding of natives. This is also pretty intense physical work! You might have to get certified/trained in working with herbicides, which are sometimes a necessary tool in fighting invasive plants. Hack-splash or drill-fill are the most commonly used herbicide techniques in restoration, because broadcast dispersion is considered a last resort. That involves individually treating each invasive plant with herbicide, using minimal amounts and concentrations to limit the effect on the surrounding ecosystem. The two biggest restoration projects I've worked on are the re-planting of disturbed alpine meadows (50K plants in about six weeks) and the removal of invasive coconut monocultures from native rainforest (hacking down palms with a machete, and spraying/injecting the cut stump with a small amount of herbicide to prevent it from coming back).

My biological fieldwork has been mostly marine-oriented - I've done a lot of work with seabirds, as well as coral reef survey & tagging sharks, mantas, tuna, and dolphins. My seabird work involved monitoring nesting colonies (counting babies, tracking growth) with some tagging, banding, and sample collection as well. The seabirds I worked most with were several different booby species, Greater Frigatebirds, Red & White-tailed Tropicbirds, noddies (both black and brown), & terns (white & sooty). Most of the marine tagging I did was using handline fishing techniques, and required me to have a lot familiarity with/certifications for boat operation & seamanship. Biological fieldwork has definitely been lower labor-intensive than trail work or restoration, but still requires a lot of hiking & hauling gear around remote (& sometimes treacherous) terrain! You will also have really intimate exposure to animal bodies and death, and will probably (definitely) get pooped on/thrown up on/bled on at some point.

A big common theme throughout these kinds of jobs is the ability to work in small groups, in isolated places, for long periods at a time. I hope this was the kind of information you were looking for in terms of what the actual work is! Feel free to reach out/message me if this didn't actually answer your questions <3

[quaranmine]

letters from the lookout #2: last seen

(HC Firewatch AU snippets)

June 8, 1988

Mumbo has loaded his bags into the car, shut the door, and checked the ties on the bike rack for the third time when he heads back up the stairs to say goodbye to Grian. The morning is cool and dark, and the streetlights are still on outside. It’s still. The sun isn’t up yet. 

He steps inside and closes the door as quietly as possible. He already slammed it by accident again on his first trip outside, and he’s trying his hardest not to upset any of their neighbors at this hour. 

Grian is sitting at the table under its warm ceiling light and has, kindly, looked better. He’s wearing an oversized university t-shirt and sweatpants, and looks like he might fall asleep again at any second. Grian is not typically an early riser, only incidentally so—thrust into the unwanted world of early alarms by the usual dread and horror of being an adult with a job. But this morning is still earlier than he normally wakes up. 

There’s a cup of coffee, mostly full, sitting on the table in front of him, which Grian regards with bleary eyes. Grian also typically drinks tea, not coffee, except on mornings where he decides he needs some extra strong caffeine. Mumbo’s not sure the coffee has any extra caffeine than the tea does, given how strong he’s seen him brew it. He loves coffee, however, and his roommate knows this. 

“I made that for you to take with you,” Grian says. He squints at the cup again. “I did drink a little of it. Sorry.”

“Erm, that’s alright mate,” Mumbo says hastily. “I’ll just stop by someplace on the way and get something for myself.”

“Oh, okay,” Grian says, immediately taking another sip. “So you’re off now I guess?”

“Yeah,” Mumbo says. “Just came back to say goodbye and do a final sweep of anything I’ve forgotten.”

“Good.” Grian nods, and then appraises Mumbo, up and down. “Are you driving all the way today?”

“If I can.”

“Ugh,” Grian says. “That’s way too far. You should rest. It’s like, one state over, why is it eight hours?”

“Because America is big,” Mumbo says. 

Grian wrinkles his nose. “Don’t like that.”

“I’ll spend the night when I get there before I go do anything,” Mumbo says. “I have to get the backcountry permit at the office, anyway.”

“Fine,” Grian says. “Drive safe. Call me when you get there. And when you get back. When do you get back?”

“Uhhh, if all goes well, then June 15. But the last part of the trail might be tricky and I’m not sure I’ve broken up each day into a reasonable enough distance to cover. So I think I might end up staying another night, in which case I’d give you a call on June 16.”

The information is already written down on the calendar stuck to the fridge, but Mumbo knows Grian wants to hear it again, just in case. Mumbo’s going by himself, after all, so it’s best someone knows where he’ll be. 

Especially since he’s going to be really in the wilderness this time. There’s mountain trails, and then there’s empty mountain trails. Shoshone National Forest has plenty of the latter, and it’s precisely that solitude that is drawing Mumbo. Everything in his life is busy, busy, busy and stress, stress, stress. He’s sick of it. It feels like his brain is being squeezed out of his ears every single day and he needs a break if he wants to get out alive. 

Grian’s brain is also being squeezed out of his ears, but he seems to be at an earlier stage in this process where he’s still mostly okay with it all. It makes sense, though, and Mumbo can’t fault him for it. While he got a jumpstart on a career right out of university a few years ago, Grian has been sifting through apprenticeships and half-jobs for a long time to build experience. His architecture license is still shiny and new, and he isn’t jeopardizing that to follow Mumbo on his last-minute trip. 

Mumbo hugs Grian, and they say a brief goodbye. Grian reminds him to call him, and to buy him a postcard somewhere, and proclaims he’s going back to sleep for at least another hour. 

Mumbo steps out into the cool predawn air once more, and a shiver runs down his spine. Is it the cold, or the anticipation? He gets in the car, and just sits in the seat for a minute before turning on. He takes a deep breath. It’s okay right now. He has nobody to report to but himself (and sometimes Grian) for the next few days. He’s free, even if it’s just briefly. 

He turns the key in the ignition, and drives. Every mile bleeds away more stress.

[dyke-pollinator]

Tell a random fact about yourself

Sure. I'll rapid fire some at ya that (hopefully) wont doxx me:

I was in the circus in college doing fire spinning, primarily staff and poi

Lived in 9 US States and spent at least a night or two in all of the lower 48

Built an entire carpartment in the back of an old F-150 and lived in it for ~ a year out in the Nevada desert

Ran a chainsaw crew for 2 years and got my C feller for chainsaws and B feller for crosscuts

Once moved an entire historic cabin in a wilderness area using only primitive tools

Ive done research on birds, bats, insects and plants in both the public and private sectors

Had a paper I wrote in college published in a small ecology journal. It was a metanalysis of aggregate pheromones' in rhizomal insects and plant defense responses.

Didnt realize I was trans until almost 28. Didn't start HRT until half way through 28 (16 months of HRT now).

I was the TA at my schools entomology lab for 2 years and taught classes on insect pinning and plant pressing

Spent a better part of 2 full years camping, only occasionally going to a shared apartment to store some stuff and shower every so often

Hiked the Appalachian Trail from the southern terminus in north Georgia through North Carolina (total of about 250 to 300 miles or 400 to 480 km)

Been riding motorcycles for 7 years now, never been in an accident or laid down my bike luckily. Currently riding a 2016 Ducati Scrambler

Summited Half Dome in Yosemite National Park & Long's Peak in Rocky Mountain National Park (seriously Long's peak is insane. It was my first 14,000ft mountain. I encourage you to look up that hike)

Im an incredibly proficient skier and it is by far my favorite outdoor activity in the world though I don't get to do it as much anymore

I've been to 85% of all National Parks from the Rockies to the Pacific.

Worked as a wildland firefighter for a bit

Anyway if you wanna know more about any of em just lmk lol

[gravelish]

Snoqualmie Pass

2 July 2023

Today’s ride might have just been a simple 40-mile out and back, but I decided to throw in an additional loop that added 20 miles, including the only really hard climb of the day. I parked at Rattlesnake Lake/Cedar Falls and began pedaling around 8:00. I was back to the car by 2:30 and back to Seattle by 4:00, with a stop for a burger and a shake in North Bend.

It’s 20 miles of easy railroad grade to the summit at Hyak, including the 2-mile tunnel at the top. I considered turning around and heading back, but opted instead to check out a new route (for me) around Lake Kacheelus to the east. I crossed I-90 to Gold Creek and then followed Forest Road 8432, which parallels (sort of) the interstate on the hillside north of the lake. It climbs steeply almost 1000’ toward the trailhead for Margaret and Lillian Lakes before eventually descending back down to the paved Kachess Lake Road. Then it’s back across the Interstate and a mile or so on the Stampede Pass Road before returning to the rail trail (10 miles east of Hyak).

Hyak was busy with families out walking or biking, many to the tunnel. The final 20-mile ride down from the pass was fast — 15-20 mph all the way on a gentle downhill grade on good dirt and gravel. There were plenty of other cyclists and hikers, but they were spread out and most of the time it was very quiet. There were the usual clusters of climbers on the cliffs at the trestles above Exit 38. The parking lot at the bottom had been pretty quiet in the morning, but cars were parked on the road for half a mile when I headed out (mainly for the lake and the hike to Rattlesnake Ledge, not for the rail trail).

This ride is a great reminder of now nice it is that the I-90 corridor has been kept fairly free from large scale development (Mountain to Sounds Greenway). The highway is never out of earshot, but it’s usually out of sight. It’s not wilderness, but it’s not bad, especially for being an hour from downtown.

I talked to a young guy at the bottom with a loaded bike. Turns out he was five days from La Push and eight weeks from his home in New York State. I always find it inspirational to chat with folks doing these long rides! It’s also a reminder that today’s ride was on the Great American Rail Trail, a somewhat aspirational concept since large segments remain incomplete or at least hard to ride, but the basic idea is that if you want to ride from coast to coast, this isn’t a bad route to take.

[starfragment1979]

Before I got sick, I was very much an outdoorsy person, which is one reason that becoming housebound had been so hard for me. A week or two ago I was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil and a dragonfly happened to zip past the window, and I realized with a start, holy shit, I have not seen a dragonfly all summer. Because I'm just not outside. Which just fucking kills me, it really does.

But before I got sick, I spent years and years trying to learn about the plants and bugs and birds and everything around me. The city I live in is full of trails and parks and wilderness, and there's a lot of nature within walking or biking or public transit distance from anywhere in the city, and I was out in it as often as possible, and god I just miss the outside world so much.

Anyway, a lot of that knowledge is still in my head, and a lot of my learning was focused on urban nature, because as someone who's never gotten their driver's license, that was all that was available to me most of the time. But there's still a lot of nature in the city! Even without going off into the trails and parks. You just need to know where to look for it.

The problem is that a lot of wildflower field guides focus on the rare and showy and ornate flowers--because they make for pretty pictures and people buy books with pretty pictures. But that means that the growing-through-cracks-in-the-sidewalk weeds are often harder to identify, even though those are the kind of wildflower that people are more likely to see every day, because they're written off as too common to be worthy of notice or because they grow in abandoned lots or along the overgrown edges of alleyways or some other unseemly location.

So my point is, at some point in the past two decades I had misidentified this little flower as deptford pink (Dianthus armeria) and the ID just stuck in my head. But when I was writing out the alt text for my last post I realized that was wrong, but I couldn't figure out what it actually was. And it bothered me that I couldn't figure it out, that there's this super common weedy flower that I've been calling wild pinks for years and they're not wild pinks but wtf are they and am I really so out of touch with the outside world that I can't figure this out etc etc etc spiraling into gloom.

But this morning during my daily morning bed flop, I brought a bunch of my wildflower books up with me and did some better research, and I did have to make one wobbly trip down the stairs and back outside to go touch the stems to make sure they're sticky, but now I have successfully (I think) ID'ed it as dwarf sweet william catchfly (scientific name is either Silene armeria or Atocion armeria).

And like it feels so good that I was able to figure this out, that I can still learn new things even when I'm stuck at home or in bed so much of the time and that I can still make new plant friends.

[sunfallsprophet]

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL

In response to this meme!

💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)?

They are ENFP, also known as the "Campaigner" personality. Very enthusiastic, creative, and extroverted. However, answering some questions on these tests are difficult because Djahima is a very capricious person and will say or do things that contradict each other. For instance, one question asked if they would enjoy talking about ethical dilemmas with others. Thing is, they technically would—so long as everyone is of the same mind. If you start talking and Djahima doesn't agree with you, they will either ignore you and busy themself with doing something else, or they'll just leave.

They're whimsical, intense, relentless, and absolutely uncompromising. It's their way or the highway. And yeah, it does go straight to Hell. Also the "Campaigner" title is pretty funny considering they terrorize politicians and their rich corporate buddies on a semi-regular basis.

🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies?

Ooh, this is a good one! Well, this motherfucker has been around for a long time, so they'd have a lot of hobbies. But their #1 hobby would be going for walks in the wilderness. When they say that they're "going for a walk", what they really mean is "I'm going to hike off-trail to some unforeseen destination through inclement weather and will be gone somewhere between a month to 2 years." I guess when you live for a long ass time, you master the art of hitting the bricks. They also just enjoy a lot of athetic/sporty stuff too, like mountain biking, surfing, skateboarding, all that jazz.

Their other hobby is music. Jimi Hendrix, Ella Fitzgerald, Sam Cooke are some of their favorites—though I think they unironically like Britney Spears, too. More specifically though, they like to sing and play instruments. They know how to play the drums (they prefer a fundeh to a drum set) acoustic/electric guitar, piano, and harp. They may have dabbled in a few more, but those are the main ones they've bothered to keep up with, especially guitar. Djahima can also sing, but they prefer just playing instruments. I imagine their singing voice sounds something like this.

And then their third favorite hobby is being an eco-terrorist and agent of anarchy and rebellion.

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

Oof, yeah. They definitely have a lot of issues mentally, but I purposely avoid labeling whatever disorders they have so as to not accidentally perpetuate any stereotypes. "Psycho" pretty much sums it up.

As for physical disabilities, they have osteoarthritis mostly in their back. It can get pretty unbearable, so they do use a cane on occasion. The reason why they have this disability while somehow remaining the same physically for centuries is because their body only maintains a state of stasis after they "died" when they were in their late 40's. So anything they had wrong with them then, they'll have wrong with them basically forever. They're also missing a few teeth, but they've gotten implants. They had gold teeth back in their pirating days.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

They like to paint, mostly with watercolors. They specialize in landscapes and portraits. When drawing, they typically sketch diagrams of flora and fauna for their own personal field guide.

They have followed many different religions in the past: Islam, Rastafarianism, Buddhism, Obeah, Hinduism, etc. Eventually they lost faith in all things relating to gods and divinity, believing that the only "God" there ever was and ever will be is nature itself, as nature encompasses everything in existence.

Their fashion style can be described as anything between afropunk to urban gentleman, and everything in between.

[thevintagemtb]

1989 Mark Slate.

[kangamommynow]

Board Game of the Day 51

8/2 - Trailblazers

Trailblazers are the gutsy folks who pave and brave the trails of the great outdoors.  Whether by hiking boots, cycling wheels, or river paddle, these tenacious travelers seek to feed their insatiable appetite for adventure.  With a scenic wilderness ever ahead and a freshly charted path upon the heels, one mustn’t forget to eventually find their way back to camp.  For there are always new environments to explore, further expeditions to undertake, and more trails to blaze.

In Trailblazers, players compete to earn the most points by building biking, hiking, and kayaking loops from their campsites of the matching trail type. Each round, players are dealt eight trail cards where they’ll draft two cards, arrange those cards in their personal area, and pass their hand to the next player three times. Cards must either be placed adjacent to or overlapping other cards. While players can push their luck by aiming to construct long and elaborate trails, only closed loops that start and end at a matching campsite will score points. Players also compete to fulfill “First To” and “End Game” goal cards. After four rounds, the game ends and the player with the most points from closed loops and goal cards wins.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

So on the way to that little spiritualist shop which was only 25 minutes away by bike, Siri made me go through wilderness trails because I had chosen the “less busy roads” route… and I hadn’t anticipated how difficult these trails would be.

First she made me go through ankle-deep swamp water from the rainfall (should’ve anticipated it from the night before but I’m a little dumb like that), then these really tightly-enclosed, tightly-winding, rough, steep, downhill passages which I couldn’t even ride my bike through without breaking my fucking neck. I had to tensely jog/scuttle my bike down these stupidly-dangerous hills on foot, in the middle of a hatch with at least five mosquitos in my face at any given moment. And THEN the path narrowed to two feet wide and went UPHILL at a 60-degree angle. I tried to go up it, but I realized I couldn’t go up any more without falling and sliding down the mini-cliff because of the mud and the fact that I was hauling my bike on foot. But I also couldn’t go down either because the path was two feet wide, muddy, and I couldn’t turn my bike or myself around very easily… so I was kind of stuck there for a bit thinking about how the hell to get down without bathing myself in mud and breaking my neck. And in the meantime the mosquitoes are using my face like it’s a tavern. AND THEN THIS KID AND HIS DAD WALKED BY AND WERE LIKE “HI HOW ARE YA?” ????? I’M FIGHTING FOR MY FUCKING LIFE UP HERE THANKS FOR ASKING.

But of course I said “Good” because I am no delicate little flower; I am a hard ROCK and man/woman enough to handle myself. Toxic masculinity for the win!

So I waited for them to pass so no one would see me eat shit on my bike because I would rather eat shit on my bike than have mosquitoes eat me. Also, it looked like they exited the woods, which is precisely what I wanted to do in that moment. So I very VERY carefully turned myself around and mountain-goat scuttled myself and my bike downhill with the bike backwards, without eating shit.

Anyway once I got the chance to look in a bathroom mirror when I went to the mall after going to the spiritual shop, I realized that I’ve been walking around this whole time looking like I’ve been punched in the eye because of the stupid mosquitoes. And I have work in the morning. Lord have mercy

[gangtoksikkimtour]

Discover the Hidden Gems: Darjeeling Tour Package

Are you seeking an enchanting journey through lush tea gardens, serene monasteries, and breathtaking mountain vistas? Look no further than the captivating Darjeeling. Nestled in the lap of the Himalayas, Darjeeling offers an unforgettable experience for travelers seeking tranquility, adventure, and cultural immersion. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into the essence of Darjeeling and unveil the treasures awaiting your exploration.

1. Introduction to Darjeeling

Welcome to Darjeeling, the "Queen of the Hills." Situated in the Indian state of West Bengal, Darjeeling boasts a rich tapestry of diverse cultures, mesmerizing landscapes, and colonial charm. From its world-renowned tea estates to its vibrant Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, every corner of Darjeeling exudes a unique allure that beckons travelers from far and wide.

2. Exploring Darjeeling's Tea Gardens

Embark on a sensory journey through Darjeeling's verdant tea gardens, where the aroma of freshly brewed tea mingles with the cool mountain breeze. Tea tourism is a highlight of any Darjeeling tour package, offering visitors the opportunity to witness the intricate process of tea cultivation, plucking, and processing. Don't miss a visit to iconic estates like Happy Valley Tea Estate and Makaibari Tea Estate, where you can savor the finest Darjeeling tea while soaking in panoramic views of the surrounding hills.

3. Unraveling Darjeeling's Cultural Tapestry

Immerse yourself in Darjeeling's rich cultural heritage as you explore its vibrant markets, ancient temples, and ornate monasteries. The blend of Nepali, Tibetan, and Bengali influences lends a unique flavor to Darjeeling's cultural landscape. Pay a visit to the revered Mahakal Temple, stroll through the bustling streets of Chowk Bazaar, or witness the mystical chants of monks at Ghoom Monastery. Every encounter in Darjeeling promises to unveil a new facet of its diverse heritage.

4. Adventure Awaits: Trekking and Beyond

For thrill-seekers and nature enthusiasts, Darjeeling offers a plethora of adventure activities amidst its pristine wilderness. Lace up your hiking boots and embark on a trek to the breathtaking Singalila National Park, home to rare Himalayan flora and fauna. Alternatively, opt for a thrilling mountain biking expedition along scenic trails or indulge in paragliding to witness Darjeeling's panoramic vistas from above. Whatever your adventure preference, Darjeeling ensures an adrenaline-packed experience like no other.

5. Delving into Darjeeling's Culinary Delights

No trip to Darjeeling is complete without sampling its delectable culinary offerings. From steaming momos and hearty thukpas to fragrant Darjeeling tea-infused desserts, the region's gastronomic delights are sure to tantalize your taste buds. Head to iconic eateries like Glenary's and Keventer's for a taste of authentic Himalayan cuisine, or savor a traditional Nepali meal at a local homestay. Every meal in Darjeeling promises a delightful fusion of flavors that reflects the region's cultural diversity.

6. Planning Your Darjeeling Tour Package

Now that you've discovered the allure of Darjeeling, it's time to plan your dream getaway to this Himalayan paradise. When crafting your Darjeeling tour package, consider factors such as the duration of your stay, preferred activities, and budget constraints. Whether you opt for a guided tour or prefer to explore independently, ensure your itinerary includes must-visit attractions like Tiger Hill, Batasia Loop, and the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. With careful planning and a spirit of adventure, your Darjeeling tour promises memories to last a lifetime.

7. Convenient Transportation: Car Rental in Darjeeling

Exploring the enchanting landscapes of Darjeeling becomes even more convenient with the option of car rental services. Whether you prefer the flexibility of self-driving or the comfort of a chauffeur-driven vehicle, car rental companies in Darjeeling offer a range of options to suit your needs.

Benefits of Car Rental:

Flexibility: With a rented car at your disposal, you have the freedom to explore Darjeeling at your own pace. From sunrise expeditions to leisurely drives through tea plantations, you can tailor your itinerary to suit your preferences.

Accessibility: Many of Darjeeling's hidden gems, such as remote monasteries and off-the-beaten-path viewpoints, may not be easily accessible by public transport. A rented car ensures you can reach these destinations with ease.

Comfort: Traveling in a private car provides a level of comfort and convenience, especially if you're traveling with family or friends. You can relax and enjoy the scenic journey without the constraints of crowded buses or shared taxis.

Choosing the Right Car Rental:

When selecting a car rental service in Darjeeling, consider factors such as the size of your travel group, the duration of your stay, and your budget. Opt for a reputable company that offers well-maintained vehicles and reliable customer service.

Exploring Darjeeling by Car:

Once you've secured your rental car, set out to explore the myriad attractions that Darjeeling has to offer. From iconic landmarks like the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway to hidden treasures like Lamahatta Eco Park, having a car allows you to discover the region's beauty at your own pace.

Tips for Safe Driving in Darjeeling:

Familiarize yourself with local traffic rules and regulations, especially if you're driving in hilly terrain.

Exercise caution on narrow mountain roads and be prepared for sharp turns and steep gradients.

Keep an eye out for wildlife, as encounters with monkeys and other animals are common in rural areas.

Consider hiring a local driver if you're not comfortable navigating the region's challenging terrain on your own.

[cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal]

Title: Catalyzing with a Breath of Calefaction

Pairing: Felix Hauville/Male Detective (Julian Mendez)

Rating: Teen (13+)

Word Count: 3,388 words

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Falling in Love, Emotional Baggage, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Gratuitous Use of Felix's Empathic Abilities, Mid-Canon, Mid Book One, Disabled Detective, Mentions of Food Aversion

Summary: The search for their misplaced Detective leads Felix to discover some new things about Julian Mendez.

Read on AO3 or

Felix is sure that if it was possible, Adam would burst a blood vessel. He grips his phone so hard it cracks at the seams of the plastic. The Agency should really send Adam reinforced phones for all the ones he's reported damaged in the past. "What do you mean, he's not there?" Adam checks his watch, scowling at the time he reads. "The detective doesn't stray from his pattern."

This has so far proven true. It's one of the little things about the detective that baffles Felix. He's never known anyone to stick to such a specific routine, as precise as a well-wound clock. It might be the only thing Adam appreciates about Detective Mendez. It makes him easier to keep an eye on. Until now, anyway.

"He's not among the patrons within the bakery." Nate's voice is tense with worry even through the slightly tinny phone. He somehow manages to sound like he's talking through a tunnel. Probably has the speakerphone on again. "I've checked the Square, he's not there either."

"And he's not at his apartment?"

Mason speaks up. "He left this morning around seven, like he always does on his days off. He hasn't come back since."

Adam's shoulders are starting to reach his ears. "Is there any possibility of him being at the precinct?"

"Why would he be?" Felix asks, wrinkling his nose at the thought. "It's his day off."

It's a rhetorical question, mostly. He supposes it's a possibility. Detective Mendez has pulled a few all-nighters since they've been here, but he is pretty diligent about taking his free days, even if Felix sees him taking files with him on his way out of the office. The man works too much and, if the perpetual dark circles beneath his eyes are any indication, he should relax more.

"Find him," Adam commands over the phone. "Call me when you've located him." He hangs up the phone, his teeth grinding together audibly. He turns to Felix next. "Check the perimeters of Wayhaven. I trust you can make the circuit before noon."

Felix scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I could run it three times before lunch." He pauses, letting a little worry pull his smile down. "What if he's not in town?"

Adam frowns, his jaw set so hard, Felix would swear he could snap it clean off. "We will find him," he says firmly. "We cannot fail Agent Mendez."

Felix nods, a little curl of nervousness coiling in his stomach at the thought, and then he takes off. He's always been the faster of the bunch and the world becomes a blur of color and shape and light around him. There is something special about running at full speed through the wilderness surrounding Wayhaven. Or maybe it’s just that Felix has never been able to just run freely through a space since he’s come to this world.

The wind that whips at his face and clothes is bitingly cold, but at least that means fewer humans are out and about for him to avoid. It also means he has to hold on a little better to his hat which he almost loses three times on his trek through the woods.

If I were an overworked detective, where would I go? , he muses to himself as he zips past parks and bike trails. Julian Mendez doesn't particularly strike him as an outdoorsy man. He is just as likely to not find him. It would be just his luck for one of the others to locate him first.

Then he smells it. That enticing blood mixing pleasantly with the soft hint of rose and sandalwood and something like ivy that the detective always seems to smell like. It must be some sort of fragrance, but it doesn't chafe his sense of smell the way most do. He slows a bit, following the scent up to the cliff face. There are no trails leading here, but Felix can see the telltale signs of someone having made their way here recently. He brings himself back to a human’s pace as he hears the metallic clicking and steady beat of the detective’s heart. As he breaks through the copse of trees, he smiles at what he sees.

It’s a small clearing, barely enough room for the rugged picnic table that’s been wedged into the empty space before the ground drops off. Wayhaven sprawls out before him in the basin below. Perched on the table, sitting on the surface with his feet propped on the actual bench, is Detective Mendez. His back is to Felix, his attention focused on whatever he’s fiddling with. He hums an unfamiliar tune quietly. A messenger bag in deep brown leather lays out beside him.

Felix comes around the table, admiring the way the soft mid-morning light plays across the lines of his face. The detective is engrossed in his task, which Felix notices with delight is sketching the scene before him with a charcoal. He’s quite good, from what Felix can see.

He clears his throat. “Fancy seeing you here, Detective.”

The detective startles, the slightest hitch in his breath as his heart skips a beat. His pencil fumbles from his grasp and drops into the grass below. “Agent Hauville,” he manages as he takes a slow, calming breath. Then his brows furrow. “How did you find this place?”

Felix swipes the pencil from the ground and twirls it between his fingers, “I was in the neighborhood.” It’s not technically a lie. Besides, best not to let the detective know he’s being closely monitored. “I like exploring new places. I was just wandering around when I saw you.” He offers the pencil back.

Detective Mendez takes the pencil, his long fingers almost brushing against Felix’s, but not quite. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t think he’s seen Mendez touch much of anyone.

Felix hops up on the picnic table, mirroring Mendez’s posture. “Whatcha doing up here?” He offers the space another once over, doing his best not to look down at the view too much. “Doesn’t seem like this is a popular spot.”

Mendez puts the sketchbook and pencil down between them and Felix has to curb the itch to rifle through it. Instead he watches as Mendez pushes a few loose curls back from his face. “It’s not. I stumbled across it a few years back. The view is unlike any in town, so I dragged the table here with Tina’s help.” He leans back on his hands, rolling his shoulders to disperse the tension that normally sits in them. “I come up here to clear my head. I don’t think anyone knows about it aside from myself, Tina, and Sol.”

“And now me,” Felix points out, squirming a little in his seat as he realizes the intrusion he is here.

“And now you,” Mendez echoes. His tone is flat and Felix wonders what he actually feels about the situation. As if on cue, Mendez turns his head to look Felix over. This close, lit up by the crisp spring light, Felix realizes the detective’s eyes aren’t black like he’d previously thought. They’re quite a dark brown, shot through with striations of amber, like wood grain. Then Mendez’s lips twitch into something that Felix would almost swear is a smirk. “I’ll thank you to keep it to yourself, if you would.”

“Hey, I can keep a secret!” Felix protests.

“I hope so, Agent Hauville.” That’s definitely a smirk on Mendez’s lips as he turns away from Felix. “I fear your Agency would be at quite a loss otherwise.”

“You can just call me Felix, Detective.”

Mendez gives a little nod, “As you wish. It only feels fair that you call me ‘Julian’ then, Felix.”

Felix shivers a little at the sound of his name in the detective’s accent. He smiles, “That’s hardly a chore.” A sly edge pulls at his lips. "Or maybe 'Jules'? Isn't that what Officer Poname calls you?"

Julian winces, but there's an edge of fondness to the gesture. "If you must."

"Maybe just for special occasions then," Felix concedes.

The silence begins to settle between them, and with it Felix’s fidgety tendencies feel more noticeable. He tries to distract himself to keep from tapping his foot. He’d noticed before the grimaces Julian tries to hide whenever Felix gets ahold of a pen he can click. So he focuses on watching Julian out of the corner of his eyes.

The clouds shift above them, letting beams of sunlight burst through, playing across them like spotlights of warmth in the cool air. Julian closes his eyes, tilting back his head as one lands across him. Contentment rolls off him in waves. His lips curl into a smile Felix has rarely seen. Felix knows he’s staring unabashedly, but he can’t help but trail his eyes along Julian’s silhouette. He’s never seen the man look so relaxed.

Then there’s a soft growl of Julian’s stomach and his eyes snap open with a scowl. Felix laughs, catching Julian’s gaze as he does so. “Skipped breakfast?” he asks.

Julian’s gaze drifts away from him. He can see the gears turning in Julian’s eyes, like he’s thinking hard about how to answer. Finally he says, “It’s one of my bad days.”

The smile drops a little from Felix’s face and he sits up a little straighter. “Bad days?”

Julian shrugs, his shoulders hunching a bit as he leans forward. He fiddles with the cuffs of his pressed dress shirt, smudging black streaks across the white fabric as he does. He doesn’t seem to notice. “I have…sensory issues,” he says. He’s actively avoiding Felix’s gaze now. “Eating is a challenge for me on certain days. It’s as if the texture and flavor are too much, I suppose. It makes the whole ordeal…unappealing.” He spares Felix a glance before he sighs, rubbing his hand across mouth, slightly ruffling his well-trimmed beard. “That probably doesn't make a lot of sense to you...”

“I swear, you’re secretly a vampire,” Felix says before he can catch himself. He winces, throwing Julian a cautious look to gauge his reaction to the slip.

But then Julian does something Felix doesn’t expect. He laughs. He laughs with his whole body, his shoulders and chest shaking with the motion, and his nose scrunches as he closes his eyes. It’s a beautiful sound, deep and warm and oaky and filled with emotion. Felix gasps softly as he watches Julian and he hopes the quick thrum of his heartbeat is only audible to his own ears. Julian’s posture relaxes as he slowly stops, and he rubs the back of his neck as a red flush creeps down it. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but I think that might be my favorite.”

Felix perks up a little. “Do you like vampires?”

“I have a fondness for monsters and their stories,” Julian admits. “They may have started as metaphors for xenophobia and the spread of cultures unfamiliar, but vampires have a long history of symbolism as outsiders and those perceived as deviants by greater society.” There’s the slightest hesitation in conversation before he offers Felix a sheepish grin. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to be one?”

Felix turns away, scowling as he thinks of all the agents and Agency scientists he’s worked with in the past. He pulls his legs a little closer to himself, his shoulders curling forward, and he wraps his arms around his knees. “I don’t know. A lot of people don’t seem to like vampires.”

Julian bobs his head side to side, “I suppose it depends on what mythology you’re pulling from.” This time, when he wrinkles his nose, there’s a hint of distaste in the expression. “There are certainly some boring examples, but I think you could say that for most stories and tropes. My favorites were always the ones who could fly or shapeshift.”

“Shapeshifting is a werewolf thing.” Another slip, another wince. Felix wishes Julian isn’t so easy to talk to.

But Julian just rolls his eyes. “There’s a lot of overlap in mythological creatures. Trying to pin down one particular power to just one monster misunderstands the purpose of why we tell stories about them.”

They’re talking about two different things. Felix is aware of that, but he’s also curious about what Julian has to say. After all, movies and stories are one of Felix’s favorite things about this world. “And why’s that?” he prompts.

“Classically, to give form to our fears and insecurities in a way that’s recognizable to others,” he answers, that soft smile back on his lips. His eyes shine with passion. “More recently, especially in marginalized communities, we use monsters to explore ostracization and dehumanization. Some modern era monsters even reclaim their monstrosity as something to be celebrated. They draw attention to how we define a monster and the moral question of whether such a signifier is helpful to anyone. And, with some of the best storytellers, we see ourselves in the monsters, and come to understand and love ourselves more for it.”

Felix is staring, slightly slack-jawed, when Julian meets his eyes at last. Julian startles a bit, as though just realizing Felix had been listening to him. A deep, warm flush blooms across his cheeks and he looks away quickly. “Sorry. I seem to get a bit carried away around you.”

“Don’t be,” Felix answers, sounding a bit breathless even to his own ears. “I don’t mind getting swept up with you.”

And then the blush on Julian’s face is more than just embarrassment. It starts creeping up to his ears, just visible beneath the tangle of curls around his face. Felix wonders if so few people have flirted with Julian. It feels preposterous. He’s quite easy on the eyes, if a little imposing upon first impressions, and when he talks about his interests, he alights like stars in the clear night.

He knows he shouldn’t, but Felix has never been one to not take risks, and this is such a small one in comparison. Sliding his hand a little closer across the table, he brushes his little finger against Julian’s. He watches Julian’s gaze flick down to the touch, his expression infuriatingly unreadable behind the mask he’s erected. But then his expression softens, ever so slowly, like watching water run down the icicles that hung outside the windows of their base that early spring they stayed in Colorado. He hooks his little finger around Felix’s, stilling them both, and he tilts his head slightly towards Felix.

His expression gives away little, but Julian feels emotions like a radio turned up just too loud for Felix’s empathetic senses. He feels himself losing his footing in the stream of it and, instead of fighting it, Felix lets the undertow pull him into the depths of Julian. He feels like loneliness and isolation so often - cold and profoundly deep and ancient as the oceans - but there is more deeper in the blue. There is warmth like volcanic vents, giving life to passion and drive and something small that Felix has to pay closer attention to in order to realize its name. There is hope there, cracked and brittle under the pressures around it, but bolstered by the attraction that tastes sweet on Felix’s tongue. Would he drown here, in the currents of Julian’s heart? Could he, knowing that as soon as they catch Julian’s hunter, he will be gone with the rest of his team?

Looking into the cautious tenderness in Julian’s dark eyes, catching the way his lips part slightly with words unspoken, Felix doesn’t know what the right answer should be. He does, however, know exactly what he wants the answer to be.

The shrill chime of his phone causes both to jump and Felix pulls his hand gently away to fish the phone from his pocket. He gets to his feet, swearing quietly as he reads Adam’s name across the screen, and walks a few steps away from the table to answer it. “What’s up?”

“Have you found the detective?” Adam’s voice is tense, strained, and Felix can just hear him holding back a snap.

Felix’s eyes trail back to Julian, and he smiles as he notices Julian has picked up his sketchbook again, his focus on the paper instead. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

“I asked that you check in should you find the detective. As soon as you should find him.” Felix wonders idly if today will be the day Adam snaps his phone. It would be the first one of the mission and a new record. “Why, precisely, did you not report in?”

“Oh, would you relax?” Felix feels eyes on him and he glances over at Julian. Julian is still sketching, casting his eyes up every few seconds back to Felix, and suddenly Felix is overwhelmed by the need to know what Julian is drawing. “I just said it’s all good. I’ll give you the rundown when I get back, okay?”

“No, Felix, you will-”

Adam’s voice comes to an immediate halt as Felix clicks the call off and then turns his phone to silent. He’ll deal with that burning bridge when the fire spreads. He throws Julian an apologetic smile, “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize,” Julian says, and he slips his sketchbook and pencil back into his messenger bag. “We should both get back to it, I suppose.”

Felix deflates a little as he watches Julian stand up. “Isn’t it your day off?”

Julian shrugs, “The weary should not know rest so as the wicked may not know peace.”

“That’s a miserable saying,” Felix says, wrinkling his nose. “The weary should rest so they don’t burn out. And because it’s fun.” He throws his arms out wide for emphasis, but he forgot how close he was to the edge, and the motion pushes him off balance.

"Felix!" The air smells like adrenaline and tastes of panic, and Felix tries and fails to stifle the urge to course correct. He manages to push himself forward with what little footing he has left and feels Julian’s hand close around his wrist just before he crashes into Julian’s chest.

Julian’s other arm wraps around him, pulling him tight as they fall. Julian groans as they hit the ground, but he doesn’t loosen his hold on Felix. They lay there, clinging to each other as they catch their breath and steady their heartbeats again.

"Are you okay?" Julian asks in a ragged tone.

Felix pushes himself up a little to look at Julian's face. There's a mixture of worry and relief etched into his features. "Yeah," he manages to gasp. He glances back to the ledge. "We're lucky we didn't both go over."

"That…that would have been unfortunate."

Felix can't help the snort of laughter that escapes him, "Yeah, that would have been a word for it." He rolls himself off the detective, though he feels colder immediately upon doing so, and gets to his feet.

He offers his hand to Julian, who raises an eyebrow at him. Felix supposes it does feel like an absurd gesture given the difference in height. Julian takes his hand anyway, but Felix can tell he's mostly standing up on his own. "Do me a favor," Felix says with a bashful smile. "Don't tell the others about this."

"It'll be our secret," Julian says with a soft chuckle. "And, please, be careful in future. I can't always be around to catch you when you fall."

Felix raises an eyebrow, searching Julian's expression for any sign of tease or flirt, but finds nothing but earnest worry. The genuine care makes Felix smile wide. "No worries, I know how to take a fall." He gazes back the way he first arrived as Julian pulls his messenger bag over his shoulder. "Do you mind if I join you on your way back?"

"Quite the opposite," Julian says, waving Felix to follow. "I rather like your company, Felix."

Felix falls into step with the detective, nudging him lightly with an elbow, “You’re not so bad yourself, Jules.”

Julian presses his lips into a thin line, but doesn’t say anything about the nickname. As Felix watches him out of the corner of his eye, he can just catch the twitch of an amused smile barely held back.

[quaranmine]

One more ask, lol.

Something just occurred to me that really drives home just how unsolvable this whole thing was.  Grian found Mumbo on pure accident, which just drives home the fact that Grian is not in control.  This is something you made clear through the narrative and in the authors notes. 

It had to be an accident.  Because I'm think back to when Grian and Scar were analyzing the initial search.  They both saw fault with the fact that they focused the search on Cloud Lake without even considering Pinnacles, and the fact that Mumbo was given a permit for a Cloud Lake, a closed trail, in the first place.

But Mumbo was SO FAR off trail in such a tricky, hidden spot that, EVEN IF the initial search would have led them to Pinnacles, EVEN IF they would have found the bag and the bike, EVEN IF Mumbo had been given a permit for Pinnacles instead of Cloud Lake from the very start... it might not have mattered.  It might have already been too late.  They STILL might not have been able to find him alive, or even at all, before the area was evacuated for the fire.

Just... there really was no rhyme or reason.  No hidden cause.  No fault.  Just...

There's this Irish folk song I'm low-key obsessed with in which the countryside is described as "where nature is seen both majestic and savage." 

Mumbo died due to the majestic, savage nature of... well.  Nature. 

And there's nothing anyone could have done.  

(I hope it's clear that I'm using the word "savage" as an adjective describing a fierce, violent force of nature and not... other contexts 😬)

Yes, exactly! Actually putting this under a cut it got long lol

Not going to lie I did Worry a few times throughout writing this about having a plot that was so heavily dependent on accidents. Like, is it undermining character agency to have significant things just happen? Do my characters drive the plot or is it just happening to them? The other hikers finding Mumbo's bike in chapter 3/4 was an accident. Most of the events of chapter 11 were an accident.

But genuinely from a real-life perspective...that's how things just happen. This story is kind of a non-mystery mystery. It's a mystery in the sense that we don't know where Mumbo is or what happened. But it's not a mystery in the sense that is some conspiracy to be unraveled, a killer to be arrested, etc. I talked about this in another ask a few weeks ago about how I mystery write, but this fic had a lot of unique barriers to it. Firstly, from a purely practical plot perspective, Grian has like nothing to work with. He has no access to any SAR tools. He doesn't have access to documents (at first lmao) or any other type of hard copy research. He cannot go out and interview people or do anything else a mystery protagonist would typically do to find "clues" because he's alone in a fire lookout. That's it. That's the setting. There is a guy who is alone in the wilderness who wants to find someone.....out of hundreds of square miles of nothing. With no real tools except his own two feet, a map, and a new friend who can only give voiceover help.

So.....there's already a hard limit on what he can reasonably do without the narrative helping him out a little. And I think I did my best harnessing everything he could do on his own. Now, Grian also THINKS he can solve it all himself. He sees no issue with this set-up. As the author though I'm forced to consider HOW he plans to do all this though lol. So again from a reasonable perspective, he ain't working with much. He himself would not have considered Pinnacles if the bike didn't get found. He might have pieced together that Mumbo took a different trail, but he would've had no way to figure out which one. Meanwhile, I just focused on building the plot of his personal journey. I also just focused on the parallels between how Mumbo got to the place he was and how Grian ended up there too.

Also speaking of the initial search at Cloud Lake, I want to highlight a case I listened to on the Out Alive podcast from Backpacker Magazine. It's the episode "Finding Life on the Edge of Death" about Andrew Devers who was missing for 9 days on the Pratt River Trail in Oregon in 2021 (and survived.) First of all, excellent episode. Also, I did not listen to this until after I had worked out the plot, but it really strengthened my conviction in the storyline I had laid out. And I did end up referencing something from this episode in chapter 10. Specificaly, Andrew went hiking alone on a trail that recently had a landslide. Because the environment was so drastically changed, when he turned around to hike back he couldn't find his way at all. And I was like, yeah. That's why Mumbo's search continued to stay in the same area even though the trail was closed. Because this happens. They thought he lost the original trail in the landslide, just like this guy did. They thought that the trail being closed actually increased his chances of being lost there because it increased his chances of losing his way. They just didn't realize he actually turned around and went somewhere else. No conspiracy. Just a misguided assumption on the situation.

Also it really is horrifying how difficult it is to find people in the wilderness. So many people who go missing are found months or even years later on accident. I'm also reminded of the tragic case of Geraldine Largay, who died after going missing on the Appalachian trail. She survived 26 days. Search teams got within a 100 yards of her location, but they didn't find her body until two years later. She was only two miles off-trail, and only 30 mins walk from a road. She got turned around after simply stepping off trail to use the restroom. It hurts my heart so much. More recently last November, in my own beloved Big Bend National Park, Christy Perry went missing on the Lost Mine Trail for 8 days and was later found alive. She was so lost but only 1/4 a mile off-trail. I've been on that trail many times. I've....um.....been off-trail on that trial many times....Anyway, I was keeping an eye on updates constantly hoping she'd be found because it looked so bad for her, but she was fortuantely okay.

Anyway I guess my point is that people really do get hopelessly lost all the time while being close to trails, and being close to trail doesn't mean someone will be found quickly or at all. And in Mumbo's case...he wasn't anywhere where people thought he might be. Grian's mission was a needle in a haystack. If I were truly being realistic, he wouldn't have found him at all, but that's where I'm using narrative power.

So yeah. Accidents. Sometimes you're just not in control. Sometimes bad things happen. Nature majestic and savage indeed....

[werdlewrites]

The Season of the Witch: Allumage

Chapter thirty-three: Playing the Hero

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summary: “I’m a piece of shit, I got that. Loud and clear. I came here to apologize t’you - t’Nancy, which,” another scoff with hands held out to her, frantic in their motions before settling. “What a surprise t’me. But whatever her and I are dealing with, is between us. I’ve been living with it, and maybe someday she’ll hear me out. But right now, for her sake, she needs someone that knows what the fuck they're doing.” warnings: wc: 3,513

It’s the summer of nineteen-seventy-five - the sun high in the sky with few clouds to drown out its light. People flee from their homes to enjoy the cooling winds, fresh air to fill their lungs as spring carries away its storms and heaviness. It’s made way for brilliance - the sun kissing flesh as bodies lay out on soft sand, robbing them of moisture as sweat drips from their fingertips. Others find this opportunity to dress for the wilderness, hiking through trails built from tall trees and the flourishing brush. Enjoying the life mother nature gifted - before retreating to the security of tents as exhaustion took over. Children were more lively than ever. The final bell of school ringing to set them free from obligations - worries tossed to the side as they explored life with their friends. Biking down new paths to take in its mystery, playing marco polo at the community pool until their parents called it quits. Maybe they were in backyards to enjoy the quiet together, on the verge of disruption as a glare shoots across the way, a warning that goes unheard. “Don’t you dare, Steve.”

Autumn stares down the barrel of a kinked hose, wound tight in a small fist with a spare thumb resting just over the nozzle. She can hear the churn of water flowing, filling the tube with overwhelming pressure with a few leaks pushing past his skin. Despite her tone, the boy is all smiles. Watching as his friend slowly eases her way back - gaining some distance between the two and the threat in his hands. “What’s the matter? Afraid of water?” There’s a long pause shared - worried eyes darting from the weapon to his face, looking for a telling sign to say he was only joking. That he’d turn the water off to let her bask in the heat. “N-no,” is the girl's hesitant reply, finding something unsettling bubble up inside as his expression becomes more pleased, blissful of what was to come. “Good,” is all he offers, before moving his thumb to hover over a small amount of the opening, turning free flowing water into a gun he aims her way. The peaceful yard is suddenly filled with a scream of terror - running from the offender as the spray acts as nails against her skin. Sharp and embedding. And beneath the chaos, there’s laughter. Feet crash against soaked grass as Steve chases after the victim, arms extended for more reach and successfully soaking her back - then her face as she turns to fend the boy off. There’s a struggle at the center of madness - child sized hands pushing and pulling, digging between fingers until the hose is freed from his grip, and she’s exacting revenge. “How do you like it?” she shouts back, loud enough to drown out his shocking cry now that the warm water has become cold. “I surrender!” “What? I can’t really hear you,” she calls out, pressing the fountain to the back of his head to let it saturate once softly curled hair. He says nothing, only reaching for the attachment to begin a small tug of war, taking turns at tilting it to the other party.

Suddenly, it all comes to a stop. The spray of water dwindles between the pair until it becomes nothing, leaving their feet bare and buried in the muck of wet earth. “Steve?” His mother is calling from the backdoor, drawing attention from the two children as their laughter dissipates. “Could you come here please?” The distance between them is too great for his mother to see the roll of his eyes, the clear irritation. “Sorry,” he grumbles, hesitantly leaving the girl behind with a now empty hose as he jogs across the dampened grass, breaths heaving as he stands beneath his mother. “What?” He practically spits over the threshold, eyeing her through fallen strands of hair to lay in his face. Tanned skin is littered with goosebumps as the chilled air from within spills out in a delicate touch.

His mother shifts in place, ignoring his playful yet annoyed tone for interrupting his joy beneath the sun. “I’m making sandwiches, and I wanted to know if you two wanted some?” At the mention of food, the boy's attitude changes like the flip of a switch. Honey eyes are beaming and his mouth hangs agape with surprise and elation. This reaction is enough to provide an answer - a smile on her face as she pulls back to disappear within the house, hands now busy with extra food for her son and his guest. Though his head pushes through the opening, calling out to her as water drips down onto the tile. “No mustard on hers!” There’s an echo of her acknowledgement, deep and distant inside the home, and he takes it with a satisfied smile as he pulls back from the shadows. The boy is shaking his head like an animal, releasing droplets of water to scatter, evaporating on the hot pavement under his feet. “Mom’s making us food,” he calls out, fingers running through heavy strands to push back the curtain to lay over his gaze. “I told her-” there’s a pause once his vision clears, taking note of Autumn on the far end of his yard with the hose long forgotten in her grip, laid out in the mud. She’s steady, back facing him no matter how many times he calls her name - growing closer with every step he takes with caution. The girl is locked on something he cannot see - something buried within the treeline. Had an animal appeared in the depths? Holding her curious gaze as they tried to understand one another. He worries he’ll scare away the wildlife, breaking the connection and suffer her wrath as she whines and stomps her feet. But he’s there, just at her back. Scanning through the world beyond them and there’s nothing - not even a small squirrel digging up the dirt.

“Hey,” his voice is soft, filled with kindness as his fingers just ghost over her arm, but she’s still stuck - unmoving and unreactive to his presence. “What are we lookin’ at?” he questions, before moving to her side with a squint in his eye - seeing only brush before he turns to his friend. Skin pales as blood flow ceases to a shaken halt, shock striking him with all of its venom. She’s looking beyond him - far through the trees with a hazed look in once innocent and sweet eyes. Lids are heavy, nearly on the verge of sleep as steady breaths pass through lips to lull her into a safe embrace. But danger comes - blood just barely creeping into visibility, forcing Steve to break through the shackles of fear that hold him back. “Aut? Talk to-” There’s a tender touch to the child’s arm, a silent prayer that this had been some cruel joke - that she would jump at him, and he’d storm off in anger before accepting her apology as she pouts. But the connection sends her deeper down, eyes widening as if nightmares danced for her alone. Once calm breaths become stuck in her throat, chest heaving as it fights to push past the barrier - seeking relief from sudden strangulation. Hands are gripping at her, desperation to keep her close - to keep Autumn from fading away. “Hey, hey! You’re okay! You’re okay, I-I’ve got you!” There’s nothing given back in return, only the continued fight for survival and he risks all by letting her go, steps flying across the grass as he calls for his mother. The sound of her surrender draws his attention back - a collapsed body imprinted in his memory for all of time. “Mom, help!”

His knees are aching, pressed deep into the carpet of the Byers home with a familiar weight in tightly wound arms. Autumn lays limp in his hold, head fallen back with the sight of crimson staining the inside of her nose. The chaos she found herself within had all suddenly gone quiet the moment she closed her eyes, though panic and worrisome questions filled the emptiness at his back. “Oh my god,” Nancy whimpers behind a delicate hand, concealing the look of horror to grace precious features. Jonathan is quick to the other boy's side, kneeling with hands hovering in thin air, unsure of what to do and how to help. “What happened? Is-is she okay?” Steve spares the other a look, though it goes unnoticed. He’s full of fear - an expression that reminded him too much of his younger self when he thought the girl had died all those years ago. It’s a telling sign to suggest Jonathan’s never experienced something like this, and while Steve is the more calm out of the trio, his chest is still heaving and a heart racing within it. He’s seen it all - but never a display quite like that.

He adjusts on the floor, shifting her weight so she leans closer into his chest, a spare hand moving to lay flat against her neck - where her pulse beats strongly against his skin. “She’s okay,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Just-just fainted, is all.” “That doesn’t sound okay,” Nancy chimes in from the distance, earning a brief glance over his shoulder to soak in the terror swimming through her eyes. Steve offers a small shrug, face twisted up as he’s unsure of what to say - how to explain it all and if it was his story to even tell. “Here, let me-” Jonathan is inching closer, gaining more security on his legs as he reaches for the back of her shoulders, seeking to assist in carrying her. The brunette thinks nothing of his actions, shifting her body once more until she’s secured against him, arms spread out beneath her for a better hold. “S’okay, man. I’ve got her.” There’s minimal stress as he contorts from the awkward angle, standing strong on two feet with the girl dead weight in his hold. He moves with confidence, like this had come second nature - like he had been here before. And despite the efforts made to help Autumn, Jonathan still holds an uncertain glare as Steve walks right by him, laying the girl out beneath the Christmas lights strung up above the couch. “How can I help?” Nancy’s voice is close, hovering just at her partner's back to assess the situation, hand resting just over her chest to ease a panicked heart. “Uh,” an exhausted breath flies through closed lips, looking out down the hallway into the dim kitchen. “Uh-anything cold, really. Ice? Something.” The girl works quickly - practically running off into the other room in search of aid, leaving Steve to lift Autumn’s knees with a pillow rested just beneath them. Unaware of the gaze still at his back.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Jonathan mutters just under a breath, earning a curious look from the brunette at her side, still checking her heartbeat through a small touch. “Yeah,” the acknowledgement falls in a heavy sigh, continuing to tuck her into better comforts for when eyes open again. “I thought it had gotten better, honestly.” The boy wants to question - wants to pry, lips parting to let the curiosities come forward but is silenced by Nancy’s presence, a watered down plastic bag in hand as well as frozen vegetables. Something Autumn had more than likely brought with her hours ago. The items are offered out, and her boyfriend is moving with care and haste as the vegetables lay nestled up against the sleeping girl’s neck, an ice cube plucked from a pool and pressed to the inside of her wrist. The standing pair share a brief look, the silence broken as Jonathan steps forward. “What’re you doing?” “Cooling her down,” his response is blunt, matter-of-fact, attention focused on his long lost someone, though curious eyes burn into him. And while Jonathan remains oblivious, still seeking answers, Wheeler is more left in awe at the confession - Steve was falling behind in class, yet knew enough to help a fallen girl. “You’re using her pulse points,” it’s not a question, more of a realization made outloud. “How-how’d you know to do that?” A small smile is seen on the freckled boy, crooked and full of amusement at the idea of her surprise. To find flunking Steve actually wasn’t entirely useless, all looks and lips. “You play enough games in the summer, you gotta learn how t’keep cool.”

There’s a long silence between them all, attention focused on the gentle breaths to fill her chest and the twitch of her brow - something to say she was still there, yet far from their reach, captive in her own mind. But in this calm, there’s an uneasiness in Jonathan - watching Steve’s sudden care for someone he lost. Reaching out in vulnerable times in hopes for forgiveness under great distress. So words fall to the carpet, disguised by a feigned confidence as he moves in closer. “Look, I appreciate what you did,” he begins, watching unassuming eyes move his way, forcing him to pause in his approach. “But, I can take over from here. I’m sure your parents-'' Steve lets a small chuckle break through, silencing Jonathan on the spot. “My dad’s an asshole. He’s mad no matter what I’m doin’.” Round and round the ice moves, never lingering too long for fear of pain, no matter if his own fingers burned from the intense temperature. He’s in another world - another time, back to when they were younger, to when they were friends. Taking action when no one else was around to help, yet now dismissing it when it’s offered. And the uneasiness builds, taking the shape of anger as Jonathan’s fist ball up at his sides. “You don’t get t’do this.” Again, kind brown eyes look up in confusion, brow knitted together in confusion before it all spills over the dam. “You don’t get t’just come in and play the hero, hoping it makes everything better.” “What?” The ice is forgotten, held in a fallen grip as his gaze turns towards more disbelief, unsettled by his accusation. “You treated her like shit-'' Steve groans in response, the roll of his eyes evident as he pushes himself up to stand against a force now working against him. “You weren’t there for her.” Arms cross over his gray sweatshirt, a shield against a boy that was only trying to defend Autumn’s honor with hostile words, and it pushes the brunette closer to the edge. Ignoring the cold chill that spilled from his palm, trickling down into his sleeve. “Are we really gonna do this?”

The other teen stands firm, lips pulled to a thin line with a crinkle in his nose, his stare full of the anger he’s consumed from Autumn, listening to her tale of their departure and the constant ache it brought. But Steve doesn’t falter, a fire sparking to tear all down with its fury. “I was there! I was there before you.” A scoff passes through, tongue quick to wet dry lips before his focus is back on Jonathan. “You didn’t even know this shit happened,” he takes a wide swing, arm gesturing out to the still sleeping girl, undisturbed by radiating heat in the small room. “I’m a piece of shit, I got that. Loud and clear. I came here to apologize t’you - t’Nancy, which,” another scoff with hands held out to her, frantic in their motions before settling. “What a surprise t’me. But whatever her and I are dealing with, is between us. I’ve been living with it, and maybe someday she’ll hear me out. But right now, for her sake, she needs someone that knows what the fuck they're doing.”

All falls into silence, eerie as the only company they keep is the sound of a distant clock ticking. Another second of Will being out of reach. Another minute of lying in wait, hoping a monster didn’t plan out its revenge if it had survived. Another hour of an unknown fate for the Police Chief and Jonathan’s mother, walking amongst evil. Steve wants to fall to his knees and grovel, crawl through the wreckage and pray for forgiveness. Instead, he shares an uneasy glance between the two, before taking his place just at Autumn’s side, the cube now melted down to the size of a pebble. Nancy is the first to act, retreating down the hallway without a word - without acknowledging him and for a brief moment, the freckled boy thinks it’s over. From breaking the camera, all the way up to this moment. But she’s quick, moving back out into the light, passing Jonathan to instead kneel within inches of her boyfriend. She plucks another chunk of ice from the messy bag, folding it up in a thin cloth before slipping it into his palm in exchange for the smaller piece. A sweet smile shines beneath the grim situation, helping to curl his fingers over the no longer burning ice. “For your fingers,” she states, earning a lopsided grin from the boy. “Thank you.”

Jonathan begrudgingly lets the subject fall into the background, keeping lips tightly sealed with thoughts pushed to the furthest corner of his mind as he picks and carries the destruction of his home. The bear trap is gone, set down in a box along with everything else they brought for a trap. But it all remains closeby, just in case a familiar face comes back into the light. Glass is picked up with care, solemn eyes occasionally drifting to the couple or to Nancy when she allows herself a moment alone. Wondering if she so easily forgave Steve, or if she simply needed time to process the loss of Barb. Finding her strength in the shadows before reappearing with a gentle smile. This peace is only short-lived in the Byers home, the front door opening quickly enough to cast a breeze across their startled faces, eyes cast towards the frantic man lingering at the threshold. “I told you t’stay, kid,” Hopper mutters, irritation in his tone and tightness in his jaw. But Jonathan pays it all no mind, rushing toward him to peer around his taller figure in hopes to see his mother, yet there’s only darkness. “Where is she? Where’s my mom?” he nearly shouts, dismissing large hands held out to ease down the rising flames. “She’s fine. Your mom’s safe.” “Where?” the boy snaps, eyes locked on his new target no matter the difference in size, no matter the threat he could carry. “With your brother.” The confession is enough to douse embers, his chest filling with the smoke he expels in a questioning breath, “What?” Hands fall to the boy's shoulders, keeping him steady and bracing for the impact of his next few words. It all sounds so simple, sparing the boy grim tales of all he had seen in the darkness. “They’re at the hospital, okay? Everyone’s fine.” Jonathan can hardly process - mouth hung agape in shock, almost disbelieving the pain they’ve suffered was a tragic memory to never recall. Hopper adjusts his jacket, moving past the Byers boy to inspect the damage done - and the other occupants that stood like a deer in headlights, or a child caught where no trespassers were allowed. “I’m just playing chauffeur. What are you doin’ here?” he questions, chin held out in gesture towards Steve - clearly hiding something at his back. “Oh, y’know, just..hanging out.” The Chief tilts his head, a concerned gaze now honed in on a pair of dirtied boots, worn with time just poking out from behind the boy. Boots he’s seen kicked up on his dashboard after offering the girl a ride to school. “Move,” he demands, yet doesn’t give them time to process as he’s barreling forward, pushing the teenagers aside to take in the sight of Autumn Reid, unresponsive. “She’s fine! She’s fine, she just-” “Faints, apparently,” Nancy interrupts, her own eyes moving between the man that hovers over, and the girl he studies with worry.

Ian had claimed she was sick, and with threat lingering at his back he didn’t press on the matter then. Only making mental notes for safe keeping. Seeing her this way deepens the pool of wonder, of curiosities. Like Steve, a tender touch is laid to her neck, unable to hold back the sigh of relief to feel just how strong she was despite it all. So he ignores the chatter of teenagers, folding himself over to rest a hand under her knees, the other squeezing her shoulder to lift and carry. Their voices fall into silence, watching in awe and confusion as he moves with ease towards the front door - barely across the threshold before turning back to the group with annoyance already bubbling up in his chest. “Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s go! Move it!”