Restaurants near la quinta by wyndham
These particular lyrics hit me like a freight train.
2023.06.10 05:53 perpetualmotionbon These particular lyrics hit me like a freight train.
 | Been a fan ever since Frances the Mute, straight out of high school in '04. When I was 14, to make a long story short, I for some reason, anxiously wished the train would be out of my path home. I feared that some sort of unknown entity was going to leap out of the open train car doors to get me. I was having lots of issues with family at that time. I stupidly made a rash decision to spider-crawl underneath the moving train about 20 yards from my childhood home in Alexandria, LA in pitch black rural Louisiana country. I did it. Moments after, I quickly realized what I had done. Little did I know that it would haunt me forever more. I have lived with the trauma and PTSD of my decision that night. Waking up in a cold sweat with the thoughts of the train, frequently through the years. The image and sound of the wheel slicing against the rails seered into my mind forever. Fast-forward to 24 year later and a whole year of mental-health therapy under my belt, and I'm visiting my childhood home, working on my engine, 1000 miles from my current residence of Denver. The train starts passing by. I stop working and just stare. My Spotify is on random shuffle, with Pipe-Eye's Agincourt Bay nearly over. As I'm transfixed in a pseudo-feacalm takes over me, Blacklight Shine begins to play. It never really hit me until this very moment just in awe of the near-death experience I had when I was 14, that I hear Cedric sing, "If that train don't run any sooner, I'm gonna waste away into lantern jaws." I could believe my ears. How did Cedric know, and how did the line-up in the way it did. I don't know. It feels profound and healing in a deep and meaningful way. I desperately want to be over this trauma. My son is with me and he's about to be 15. On our way here I told him about my experience on the road from Denver, since I was having issues while driving and seeing a random train. I feel like it has finally all come back around full circle and I wanted to teach him a valuable lesson about choices and their long-lasting effects and ramifications. Any ways, I just had to get it off my chest and figured this was the best community to tell it to. I alive. Much love to you all. Volta forever -Bonnie submitted by perpetualmotionbon to themarsvolta [link] [comments] |
2023.06.10 05:31 Ambitious-Mind9040 am i being too needy
hi all. i’m gonna start this off by saying i’m super mentally ill so this whole post might just be bitching and moaning so i thought i’d warn ya if you don’t wanna read that. anyway, here it is-
so i have this one friend, he means a lot to me, but i don’t think i mean a lot to him. he’s one of the few people i really enjoy hanging out with, so he and i plan to hang out nearly every weekend. which sounds absurd, yes, but we only plan to hang out every weekend because he always cancels, and so he’s says “let’s just hang out next weekend” and when next weekend rolls around, he cancels. over and over again. however, we did actually hang out twice, but the first time was when his boyfriend was gonna be at my house, and the second time, we both had a list of things we wanted to do in town, so first we went to a restaurant and ate, then we did what he wanted to do (go to antique store) and as we were walking out of the store, he says he’s feeling sick so he’s just gonna go back home. and like, i totally understand if he was actually feeling sick, but like, with his track record of canceling hangouts, and only showing up when there’s something specifically in it for him, i don’t know if can trust him anymore. am i just being too needy or is this something else? and i don’t want to talk to him about this because i’m really afraid of making him unhappy. i think he has depression and i don’t wanna make it worse for him (i have it too so i know how bad it sucks.) . any help is greatly appreciated, but don’t feel obligated to do so, thanks!
(edit) i think for his sake i think i should mention that he and i actually did hangout together 5 months ago.
submitted by Ambitious-Mind9040 to FriendshipAdvice [link] [comments]
so i have this one friend, he means a lot to me, but i don’t think i mean a lot to him. he’s one of the few people i really enjoy hanging out with, so he and i plan to hang out nearly every weekend. which sounds absurd, yes, but we only plan to hang out every weekend because he always cancels, and so he’s says “let’s just hang out next weekend” and when next weekend rolls around, he cancels. over and over again. however, we did actually hang out twice, but the first time was when his boyfriend was gonna be at my house, and the second time, we both had a list of things we wanted to do in town, so first we went to a restaurant and ate, then we did what he wanted to do (go to antique store) and as we were walking out of the store, he says he’s feeling sick so he’s just gonna go back home. and like, i totally understand if he was actually feeling sick, but like, with his track record of canceling hangouts, and only showing up when there’s something specifically in it for him, i don’t know if can trust him anymore. am i just being too needy or is this something else? and i don’t want to talk to him about this because i’m really afraid of making him unhappy. i think he has depression and i don’t wanna make it worse for him (i have it too so i know how bad it sucks.) . any help is greatly appreciated, but don’t feel obligated to do so, thanks!
(edit) i think for his sake i think i should mention that he and i actually did hangout together 5 months ago.
2023.06.10 04:50 tones_are_hard DiD Pure Destruction HA Atronach Mage
Just ended a DiD playthrough today, an incredibly strong mage in Fellglow keep hit me with a Blizzard spell and I was knocked down and killed, from just about full health to nothing... anyways, time for a write up!
This was my second playthrough of Wildlander (first one was an Atronach spellsword that died at lvl 16), and oh boy was this fun. A pure Atronach mage has been on my list of builds for ages, well before I started Wildlander. Many said it can not be done, that is false. It can be a very strong build, but not at the beginning.
Main skills at time of Death:
The main problems with this build:
Solutions:
What would I do differently though?
Play as a Breton and put my first 10 level ups into Magicka. Adding 25% spell resistance onto my endgame 39% would bring me up to a whopping 64% plus the 50% spell absorb chance. With how much magic school reduction you need on your enchanted gear having this extra MR would have probably kept my character alive right now. I also would have spent more time in different cities in the early game. Whiterun is nice and safe, but changing up your city and staying there for a few weeks makes the early game less tedious and levels you up faster. Also allows you to go back to previous places and harvest ingredients (I'm looking at you Mora).
All in all I've loved my experience playing Wildlander and have recommended it to a few friends. You guys did an amazing job bringing together the best mods Skyrim has to offer, to make the world really feel real. I sunk an ungodly amount of hours into this character over the past two weeks, and I already have an idea for a new character! And best of all, my game had a bug where Heimskr wouldn't preach in Whiterun... please don't fix it. Bliss, pure bliss.
submitted by tones_are_hard to wildlander [link] [comments]
This was my second playthrough of Wildlander (first one was an Atronach spellsword that died at lvl 16), and oh boy was this fun. A pure Atronach mage has been on my list of builds for ages, well before I started Wildlander. Many said it can not be done, that is false. It can be a very strong build, but not at the beginning.
Main skills at time of Death:
- Destruction - 60 (mainly fire)
- Heavy Armor - 55
- Alchemy - 51 (if you want it to not be OP don't take the second lvl of the first perk until mid playthrough, it breaks the economy if taken early, much more fun like this)
- Enchanting - 85
- Speech - 70
- Alteration - 25
- Lockpicking - first perk
The main problems with this build:
- Obvious one: You don't regenerate Magicka, and as a pure mage that is something that is going to limit your growth in the beginning.
- HA severely increases your Magicka costs, which can be offset by perks, enchantments, and a huge Magicka pool, but is still a problem to overcome. The benefits are great for DiD though. You can survive a lot more than a LA or Robed mage.
- Magicka potions are 33% less effective. With Magicka potions being almost the only way you can gain Magicka until the mid game, this sucks.
Solutions:
- Carry 120,300 restore Magicka potions in your inventory. Always use them, hotkey them to the comfiest hotkey. The need for this never goes away (gets better later on though). When you're strong enough to beat shouting Draugr go to Solstheim and do Azhdal's quests. Do them as early as you can. You need the Ring of Arcana that gets you a flat 2 Magicka per second. This was such a game changer later in my build. I should have rushed this earlier. It won't make a difference in a fight, but it will save you a ton of Magicka potions by just waiting an hour in dungeons or after fights. Don't do the last portion of the quest though. Azhdal is a level 100 dragon priest, he will kill you if you go in there.
- Run in HA as much as you can in the early game, let yourself get hit by mudcrabs, go get HA training from the Orc near Markarth (I didn't do this last one until HA was 40 though). When you are fighting low level enemies like wolves and mudcrabs take off your armor and use destruction. Always harvest the animals in the early game, Animal Fat and Garlic/Beehive husk is your friend, and will make you a good amount of gold in the early game (never felt OP though if you follow my advice). Once you are strong enough to fight bandits (have a good amount of Magicka potions and dual cast lvl 25 Destruction spell) you need to loot their items, sell the expensive stuff, and keep the light cheap stuff. With this you'll buy the cheapest soul gems and grind your Enchanting. By 35 hours into the build I had Fortify Destruction 16% on multiple pieces of armor, so fighting became a bit easier. By the end I had used elixirs to get 21% off on my Chest piece and Helmet, as well as the 15% from Azhdal's ring and the 10% from the boots (67% reduction total). This combined with a massive Magicka pool meant I was strong enough to fight enemies 30 levels higher than me.
- Just make a ton of potions. Eventually you will run out of Mora, but don't fret. Elves ear is sold in one of the stalls in Whiterun, and in Winterhold the Dark Elf near the door to the docks sells a ton of restore Magicka potion supplies (20+ Mora, Ectoplasm, Creep Cluster, Elves Ear). Get good enchanted fortify alchemy gear as soon as you can, keep it in your inventory and put it on when you are crafting potions. By end game you'll be making potions that give you 20 magicka per second and allow you to keep casting during fights. Also quick thing, the College of Winterhold downstairs has a place to practice wards. Here you can replenish your Magicka with the 50% spell absorb, just make sure you don't do it enough to kill you. I used Transmute Blood a little bit, but ended up not liking it, felt too slow and risky.
What would I do differently though?
Play as a Breton and put my first 10 level ups into Magicka. Adding 25% spell resistance onto my endgame 39% would bring me up to a whopping 64% plus the 50% spell absorb chance. With how much magic school reduction you need on your enchanted gear having this extra MR would have probably kept my character alive right now. I also would have spent more time in different cities in the early game. Whiterun is nice and safe, but changing up your city and staying there for a few weeks makes the early game less tedious and levels you up faster. Also allows you to go back to previous places and harvest ingredients (I'm looking at you Mora).
All in all I've loved my experience playing Wildlander and have recommended it to a few friends. You guys did an amazing job bringing together the best mods Skyrim has to offer, to make the world really feel real. I sunk an ungodly amount of hours into this character over the past two weeks, and I already have an idea for a new character! And best of all, my game had a bug where Heimskr wouldn't preach in Whiterun... please don't fix it. Bliss, pure bliss.
2023.06.10 03:16 RazMlo Reactiony
After all the videos and clips regarding the reaction videos, I actually feel a bit ambivalent about whether Destiny hasn't overshot the mark a bit. It's no where near as bad as Asmongold, for example, but I still have the feeling that content is often stolen in the livestream. Especially the clip à la "The video is there to babysit you" I found extremely problematic. And there was also a phase during the end of Factorio where you could have just played a soundboard of Steven, and you wouldn't have been able to tell any difference from the livestream in terms of the reaction. I really feel that's a problem for the platform, because there are actually videos there that don't meet the level of transformation, but just serve as a substitute to the original video. So obviously that's not a big deal, and new content creators can be boosted by exposure, but bigger content creators get disadvantaged by the algorithm. What are your thoughts on this?
submitted by RazMlo to Destiny [link] [comments]
2023.06.10 02:38 coffee_TID FTHB Extra Hard Mode
Closed Today. Quite the process given some unique circumstances.
Only able to do this due to an inheritance from a family member. Otherwise we’d be renting. Gross household >200K with essentially no debt (5K in student loans that we are just going to pay off in total later this year).
Active duty currently overseas but moving back in the next few weeks to San Diego where we plan to stay once I’m out. Luckily my SO and I are from the area and we’re just stationed there, so we know the area very well. Used a friend as our agent that we trusted to show us houses over FaceTime given the large time difference.
Looked at about 15-20 places starting in late March. Made 7 or 8 offers. Had one accepted that we backed out of with full contingencies after learning some more about the house. Backed out after only a few days in both our interests and so the sellers could get it back on the market quickly.
Lost multiple bids to no contingency, higher price offers. I think we only won this one because there were several other houses that were more updated in the same neighborhood all on the same weekend that distracted other buyers.
Our House: 4/3 SFH ~1900 sqft listed 900K and sold for 925K. Walking distance to a great school. About 15-20 minutes from the beach. Near a bunch of coffee places, restaurants, Costco 😂.
Had full contingencies in place. Inspection went great with some minor problems that the sellers fixed quickly. VA appraisal had no issues and it appraised for 930K.
Used our credit union for a VA loan with 20% down (again, inheritance) with a 5.25% rate with no points. Ends up being ~4700/mo total with insurance and taxes which we are happy with as that is just below my BAH (non-taxed housing pay for those non-military).
Biggest headache in this whole thing was our lender not letting us sign loan docs electronically with an online notary. Had to get them notarized on base and then ship back. This delayed closing a week and almost got delayed even more by a storm that delayed the shipment.
So glad this is done. Lost so much sleep between stress and having to stay up late or wake up early to get stuff done given the time difference.
submitted by coffee_TID to FirstTimeHomeBuyer [link] [comments]
Only able to do this due to an inheritance from a family member. Otherwise we’d be renting. Gross household >200K with essentially no debt (5K in student loans that we are just going to pay off in total later this year).
Active duty currently overseas but moving back in the next few weeks to San Diego where we plan to stay once I’m out. Luckily my SO and I are from the area and we’re just stationed there, so we know the area very well. Used a friend as our agent that we trusted to show us houses over FaceTime given the large time difference.
Looked at about 15-20 places starting in late March. Made 7 or 8 offers. Had one accepted that we backed out of with full contingencies after learning some more about the house. Backed out after only a few days in both our interests and so the sellers could get it back on the market quickly.
Lost multiple bids to no contingency, higher price offers. I think we only won this one because there were several other houses that were more updated in the same neighborhood all on the same weekend that distracted other buyers.
Our House: 4/3 SFH ~1900 sqft listed 900K and sold for 925K. Walking distance to a great school. About 15-20 minutes from the beach. Near a bunch of coffee places, restaurants, Costco 😂.
Had full contingencies in place. Inspection went great with some minor problems that the sellers fixed quickly. VA appraisal had no issues and it appraised for 930K.
Used our credit union for a VA loan with 20% down (again, inheritance) with a 5.25% rate with no points. Ends up being ~4700/mo total with insurance and taxes which we are happy with as that is just below my BAH (non-taxed housing pay for those non-military).
Biggest headache in this whole thing was our lender not letting us sign loan docs electronically with an online notary. Had to get them notarized on base and then ship back. This delayed closing a week and almost got delayed even more by a storm that delayed the shipment.
So glad this is done. Lost so much sleep between stress and having to stay up late or wake up early to get stuff done given the time difference.
2023.06.10 01:04 Hedgehog_5150 Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch8
Credit to u/bluefishcake for writing the original SSB story and building the sandbox for us to play in.
And a big thanks to the authors and their stories that inspired to get off my ass and put my fingers to keyboard. RandomTinkerer (City Slickers and Hayseeds), Punnynfunny (Denied Operations), CompassWithHat (Top Lasgun), Rhion-618 (Just One Drop), UncleCieling(Going Native), RobotStatic (Far Away), Kazevenikov (The Cryptid Chronicle), Also to the editor # Fan Beta Readers and KLiCkonthat .
As always comments, complaints, and suggestions are welcome.
This is a fair use notice. Any and all aspects of this may be used on and within this subreddit only, with attribution. All other uses are exclusive to the author.
/*******************************/
Nanorix took the news from the advocates in stride, better than Linda. They had spent the night mutually venting at the injustice of the situation while putting away bottles of gin. Max sounded almost broken by the news while Nora the optimist in the family, firmly held to the belief that things would work out. Rufus was, well, Rufus. Intuitively compassionate, which is why he was laying in the front seat of the truck with his head on Linda's lap as they drove up to Flagstaff.
Linda was trying to sleep off her hangover, her eyes closed but not asleep. Alila had been honest that the only reason Garquile was not tied up in this was that he had her direct protection as a territorial governess. Tommy did not have that level of security and without it, he was in more danger than Robert. From what Alila had said, elements in the Interior wanted Robert dead, other interested parties wanted him alive because of his potential. The situation was so bad the Planetary Governess had stepped in and ordered the house arrest of six high-ranking members of the Interior and let it be known that if anything happened to young Mr. Pierce they would die publicly.
Neither Alila nor the planetary governess knew why the Interior wanted Robert dead, she did. After she heard that the pod found the children and what was being done to them. Her lieutenant had completely lost it, she rounded everyone operating the orphanage and lined them against the wall, and had them shot. The Interior had come in and had done what they always did, cleaned up the mess, and protected those who were important and connected. Before the interior got there one of the girls found a large data server and they made copies. There were four full copies still on Earth and one that she knew was off-world, and she had one of them. It had been too dangerous to keep at home so she had setup a remote server that would once a week send out a heartbeat signal. There were major safety measures in place to prevent access.
She had managed to go to Flagstaff for brunch about once a month to establish a pattern of behavior. Those trips with Robert and sometimes Tommy had always been good, nothing special just good days. She and Linda would have brunch and she would trigger a download to her server buried under the barn. When they had spoken with Alila, Max, and Nora, Max had commented that if anybody could stack the deck and pull inside straight now was the time to do it. She did not tell Linda why they had to come, just that she needed to come up and check on something.
She and Linda had a quiet brunch on the patio of the restaurant to allow Rufus to join them. As they ate she triggered the data transfer. The data transfer would take at least thirty minutes to complete, so they would have a nice long brunch and talk about anything but the boys, she even took a couple of selfies of the two of them to cover what she was doing. Rufus camped out under the table but never relaxed, she was not sure if he sensed her unease or something else was going on that she could not see.
They stayed and chit-chatted until Linda finished her third cup of coffee. She did not want the third cup but they needed the extra time to let the data transfer complete, and by that time Linda's hangover had started to subside. The drive home was uneventful, but traffic was horrible due to the festival of colors going on, it was the 4th of July after all.
/*******************************/
Ishani was tired and hungry but had little interest in eating. She and Ensign Tha'xur had been up half the night working to translate the new equations that Robert had created yesterday, with a new understanding of how the translation needed to work. Thoughts of Robert consumed her mind, and she had to fight the urge to look over and watch him, the singular human male. His name seemed to roll off her tongue, lingering from her dreams the previous night as she drifted off to sleep. Those dreams had been far from innocent, filled with exotic and seductive images of him, even in his baggy exercise clothing.
Returning her attention to her food, Ishani shifted uncomfortably. She would need to change her underclothes if she continued dwelling on him like this. Taking another bite of the fruit, nut, and sauce mixture, she tried to enjoy it, but it did little to distract her from watching him. He moved slowly, almost as if dancing, though she couldn't grasp the purpose behind his movements. Ensign Tha'xur's timely arrival saved her from making an obvious fool of herself by staring at a boy nearly two years her junior. It always felt like she was the only one looking.
Ensign Tha'xur sat down with a tray of food and jokingly said, "Ground control to Crewwoman Vevreix, are you awake?" Ishani returned her gaze to her food and responded, "Yes, ma'am, I am awake, just..." Before she could finish her sentence, Ensign Tha'xur interrupted, "Distracted?"
Signing without looking up and absentmindedly playing with her food, Ishani replied, "Yes, ma'am, horribly. It's just... he's just one boy. I have enough common sense to know that there is no way I should even consider... why couldn't he be old, wrinkled, and fat..."
Ensign Tha'xur completed Ishani's thought, saying, "Instead, he's young, fit, and I would even go as far as to say he's attractive in a very unmasculine way, with that wounded, sad boy aura."
Looking up, Ishani was taken aback and asked, "What do you mean 'you could call him attractive'? Are you blind? I mean, he may be a little short, but other than that, he is..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Smiling and taking a bite of her burrito, Ensign Tha'xur replied, "He is desirable, and deep down, I believe you could take away all his pain and sadness... but please don't go there." Shifting into a serious tone, she continued, "I overheard Cmdr Norroe and Lt Cmdr Ashix talking about him the day we arrived. What caught my attention was Cmdr Norroe mentioning his thousand-yard stare that is measured in miles. There are significant parts of his life that we don't have access to because they've been redacted by the interior."
Ishani looked over at Robert, who appeared to have finished his morning workout and was heading towards the mobile kitchen. She murmured, "No one is ever so lost in the deepest of caves that they cannot be found by the beating of their heart. There is always hope and always a way out."
Ensign Tha'xur wiped her face clean of the red sauce that had dripped from her burrito and commented, "You, Crewwoman, are an optimist."
"With all due respect, ma'am, have you looked?" Ishani responded quizzically.
With a wry smile En. Tha'xur replied smoothly "I am technically a married woman and my husband and kho wives are going to be here in three days. I am hoping that my leave request will be honored, we were supposed to go to Tel Aviv for 14 days." Frowning slightly with the last statement.
Ishani gave an understanding smile "Well, that explains why you are not interested. You know, if you want to get the time off then ask for help. What is the worst he can do to say no?"
En. Tha'xur almost laughed at that, "So what should I do ask him over here for you to ogle him and for me to get a chance to go on leave, I do not think he would like that, being that he is here under guard."
Ishani took another bite of her food, ‘alright girl put up or shut up’ she thought to herself, before standing. "Ma'am if you never ask for help you will never get any." This is not a good idea, turning to find Robert who was looking for an open table to eat at. "Robert, can you join us over here, please?" Blessed Nest mother, that sounded so bad she inwardly cringed.
/************************/
Robert had gotten his food-laden tray and was looking for an empty place to sit. It felt a little weird not having a personal shadow always with him. The petty officers had told him last night that he would be given some space and an opportunity to interact with the people here. "Go out, mingle, talk to people, that's a winning idea," he thought sarcastically. Yup, everything was normal again. Alone in a room full of people and completely clueless about how to do the most basic of things, like talking to anybody.
Now, the people he could talk to were a problem. Being the only male and the only human, he received looks. The looks could be categorized into three groups: lust, curiosity, and pity. Dealing with lust was easy; he just chose not to care, and thankfully, they were discreet about it for now. Pity, on the other hand, infuriated him because most of the time, it was fake. Whenever someone expressed their sympathy for all the things he had been through, he wanted to scream. At best, it was a polite social convention, and at worst, it was a selfish and internalized burden of guilt that had nothing to do with him.
Just as he spotted an empty table at the far end, somebody called out his name. "Can you join us over here, please?" Shit, it was Ishani, the one person in the whole damned place who had a very unsettling effect on him. She was the only one here who scared the shit out of him. Taking a breath to collect himself, he acknowledged her with a nod and proceeded to join her and the Ensign at their table.
He noticed that when he acknowledged her, she just beamed and got all bubbly. That was the best word for it. Her glowing tattoos seemed to brighten for just a moment before she sat down, leaving him to wonder what those tattoos looked like on the rest of her body. He made it to the table and sat down on autopilot while his mind indulged in a little fantastical daydream, leaving him noticeably flushed and uncomfortable in ways that only men could be.
Setting his tray and bottle of maple syrup down on the table and taking a seat, Robert tried to say thank you, but neither Ishani nor the Ensign had their translators running.
En. Tha'xur noticed him stop trying to use hand speak and realized that they had just messed up a little. "I am sorry, that was rude of us," she said as she tried to get her translation app up and running. Meanwhile, Ishani was no help; she was head down in her food, blushing and trying very hard not to be noticed. "There, we're set."
Robert was relieved when En. Tha'xur got her translation app running, so he wouldn't have to stare at Ishani across the round table from him. He returned his attention to En. Tha'xur. "I was trying to say thank you for asking me to join you, and it's okay. You at least figured it out."
Ishani looked up from her half-eaten food when En. Tha'xur's translator started speaking. Fuck, she thought, this is so embarrassing. Inviting a boy to come over and eat with you only to ignore him when he gets here. Idiot. Turning to face him, her brain failed as she smiled stupidly and took another bite. "Hungry?"
En. Tha'xur couldn't help but cringe. The situation unfolding before she seemed straight out of a cliché "coming of age" story, where a girl meets a boy and the universe seems to pause just for them. It reminded her of the sentimental videos her older brother and his friends would tear up over. Poor Ishani, the other girls around her would roast her mercilessly, yet she remained oblivious to the fact that she was being watched. En. Tha'xur couldn't decide if it was cute or tragic. Determined to intervene and save Ishani from herself, she spoke up, "Robert, the reason Crewwoman Vevreix invited you over is that I need your help."
"Hungry?" Robert was caught off guard by Ishani's question. Did she even understand what she was doing? He found her confusing, and he just wanted to finish his meal quickly and GTFO. En. Tha'xur was speaking, but he had missed what she said. He decided to play dumb and replied, "OK."
En. Tha'xur thought to herself, "This is good." She then explained, "Well, my husband and my three kho wives are going to be arriving on Earth in three days. I had scheduled a 14-day leave, but then I received an emergency assignment here, and I don't know if they will honor my leave request."
Robert had managed to pay enough attention to understand that she needed a favor. He had two basic choices: give a hard no and explain that the advocates wouldn't allow him to help until they gave the go-ahead, or try to answer her questions. His best option was to listen and see if he could offer some hints. "I am quite restricted by what my advocates have told me to do, but I will try to point you in the right direction."
Finally, Ishani managed to gather her thoughts and interjected, "See, I told you, all you need to do is ask."
En. Tha'xur rolled her eyes, silently expressing her frustration towards Ishani. She replied, "Thank you, can you help?"
Talking with his mouth full wasn't polite and attempting to gesture while eating proved to be a challenge. Robert sighed as he reluctantly set down his fork, his stomach growling in protest. "Yes, I will genuinely help you. And if you're wondering why," Robert paused, trying to understand his willingness to assist, "it's because you asked. Now, the big question is, do you even know what you want to ask?"
Ishani eagerly jumped in, unknowingly giving En. Tha'xur some time to formulate a proper question to ask. "Okay, if I can ask one too, please?"
Robert held up one finger as he obeyed the demands of his stomach and shoved a load of runny fried eggs and hash browns in his mouth. "Sure, since you saved me from eating alone." Robert swallowed hard after he finished speaking, realizing he had just unintentionally flirted with her. Thinking inwardly, "Shut up, dumb ass. You are going to get yourself in trouble."
Ishani sputtered like Joe Pesci for just a couple of seconds before getting to her real question. "Ok, ok, ok, ok." Pointing to the work area where the Charger was, she asked, "Why is the car so important? Why did you build it?"
Robert shoveled another load of eggs and hash browns into his mouth. "Why would a human boy on Earth, living in North America, want to build a fast car and one that could fly?" Pausing to inhale the bite of his eggs and hash browns, he continued, "Because it was fun, and it would have been cool to have a hotrod and be the only one to fly. Well, that would be a show-off, a little, and to have a shitload of fun flying around in it."
En. Tha'xur cluelessly responded, "What is a 'hotrod,' and why would a flying car be 'cool'? I guess that means good?"
Robert had to roll his head back before responding, to the idea of attempting to explain custom car and motorcycle cultures. "Humans like to personalize cars and other things as expressions of their personalities and rolling pieces of art in some cases. For a human boy to be able to build a car and go fast is a dream. Hotrods are the result of those builds."
Taking another break to move the French toast in front of him and pour on the maple syrup, he continued, "Back to the first part of your question, 'Why is it important?' Other than a personal attachment to the memories connected to it... it is not, in the grand scheme of things, it was a mistake. A very valuable mistake, it disproved one of my approaches to a bigger challenge."
En. Tha'xur and Crewwoman Vevreix just looked at each other and mouthed the same words, "It was a fucking mistake!!"
Robert tried to hide his smug satisfaction. Nobody ever considered just how much of his work was critical and applied to his big challenge. Ishani looked at Robert as he dug into his French toast. "If that was a mistake, what is the prize?" Robert just smiled and shrugged in response to the question. En. Tha'xur sat dejected, "Well, that did answer one of the big questions. The car is a stepping stone to the bigger thing."
Watching the Ensign sit dejected and look a little lost made Robert feel like a little shit. Flipping the bird to the bureaucratic machine that was the Imperium always felt like a "fuck yes," but trolling a person was different. She had asked him for help, and he had used it to be petty and spiteful. "You don't need to ask right now, and if you loan me your data slate, I will give you a couple of hints," he said, reaching out for the device.
En. Tha'xur handed over the data slate wordlessly. Robert opened a new document and wrote:
"If you have 'The Right Stuff,' you can connect the dots."
"Space-Time Gravity is not the same as Gravity Space-Time."
When he finished, he handed the data slate back to the ensign and returned to his food. En. Tha'xur picked up the data slate, read the hints, and found the first line to be of no use other than some devotional wisdom that would be preached in a temple. However, the second line held interesting possibilities. Grabbing the data slate, Ishani quickly scanned the text and handed it back to En. Tha'xur. "Thank you, I think we can work with this," she said. Turning to En. Tha'xur, she added, "Ma'am, I think we need to work in conference room 2 today. It has the other digital whiteboard, and I think we need the space."
En. Tha'xur picked up the data slate and looked right at Robert. "I don't get the first one. The second one could be applied in a dozen or more places."
Finishing his first piece of French toast, Robert tried to remember the order of the equations to point her in the right direction. "Show me my work from last night, and I will show you the one to work against. Don't try to finish it, just try to understand it."
En. Tha'xur handed the translated copy of Robert's work back to him, and he looked at it with a mixture of fascination and difficulty. It was strange to see his work presented so neatly, but it was also challenging to read. He had to mentally retranslate it to the original version he had written. Working through the problem brought his headache back in full force, making the surroundings too bright and diminishing his appetite. Robert tried to hide his discomfort, squinting his eyes and taking deep breaths.
Concerned, Ishani noticed his strained expression and asked, "Are you alright? You don't look well."
With a weak smile, Robert replied, "I shouldn't have done that. I usually take a couple of days off after my little flying trips. It's like working out too hard and feeling extremely sore the next day, then trying to work out again. Not fun."
En. Tha'xur felt uneasy knowing that Robert was enduring pain to help her. She thought of her father and how he would be disappointed in her. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" she asked, genuinely concerned.
"I'll be fine, I just need some sleep," Robert reassured them, pushing his plate of food away. "If either of you wants to finish this, go for it. At the very least, don't waste the bacon."
Ishani reached for the plate and admitted, "I've heard about bacon, but I'm a little afraid to try new foods. I don't want to be disappointed."
En. Tha'xur reached for a piece of bacon, saying, "I love bacon. I'll even taste-test it to make sure it's okay." She smiled at Ishani and took a bite.
Robert observed as En. Tha'xur's eyes widened in shock. Oops, he remembered that he had coated the bacon in maple syrup. However, she didn't spit it out, which was a good sign. His mom loved crispy bacon dipped in maple syrup. Sometimes, she would devour an entire package of bacon if there was maple syrup in the house, and then she would try to conceal the fact that a pound of bacon had disappeared. She would even do her dishes, a chore that was usually Robert's.
En. Tha'xur bit into the bacon, expecting a salty taste but experiencing the combination of sweet and salty. The flavor was incredible. She paused to savor the taste before chewing again. "You have to try this!" she exclaimed.
Ishani, with anticipation in her eyes, sniffed the remaining piece of bacon. "Here goes nothing." She cherished this moment, as it was the closest she had come to tasting her nest mother's nectar. Grabbing the plate, she declared, "I'm finishing this!" and devoured the last piece of French toast without bothering with utensils.
Despite his throbbing headache, Robert couldn't help but smile as he rose from the table. "Enjoy. I need some sleep."
/*******************************/
Tommy had to roll his eyes at Valenlina's latest attempt to "improve" his wardrobe with a purple satin shirt with a matching sea green scarf. No matter how many times Valenlina tried to have Tommy dress like a proper male, Tommy always simply said no. Early on in the dating, Valenlina had gotten so frustrated that she also broke up with him, not that she ever told him. Her father and kho mother Tearhart had stepped in and explained that she could not make a human be like a Shil. The Imperium still tried, and the Humans resisted more. There were several semi-celebrities on the data-net that advised Shil’vai women on dating human males and females. The most common rule for dating a human male is not to try and change them to be acceptable in your circle because they will resent you for it. You have attracted a human male for a reason, embrace it.
Their walk through downtown Prescott was a moment the Tommy did not have to think about the meeting tomorrow. Early this morning he and his mother had gotten almost an hour of one on one time with Advocate Roskin and she was able to explain in greater detail what was expected of him tomorrow and how things could go right or wrong. Withholding information was one of the worse things he could do. After the meeting, Valenlina noticed the additional stress in Tommy. It was so bad that physical affection had no effect. There was only one thing other than sex that could distraction, window shopping.
Their window shopping trip started as a serious attempt to make him presentable in Shil’vati society, ow her attempts to help him look more presentable were just something they did to have fun. In many ways, it was closer to foreplay now, as Tommy now attempts to have Valenlina dress like a human girl. Tommy did have one big win, a pair of 4-inch-high heels, he had said they improved the view coming and going. Her big win last year was a shirt and tie set for his tailored charcoal suit, he was finally willing to wear formal attire with a splash color.
Valenlina could see her best effort to pull Tommy out of what his mother called a 'funk' were not working. He was still not willing to talk to her about it, she could understand that he was pissed but his silence bothered her. While he had not pushed her away, he still felt distant. Last year's fireworks had been the warmup act for what had followed. She could never look at Mr. Scott's old Ford pickup without blushing just a little bit.
Tommy smiled with a wicked little smile, "Thinking dirty thoughts again I see." he said holding up a pair of women's cowboy boots in hot pink.
Playfully Valenlina put on her pouty face, "What would you wear with them?"
Taking his turn to think dirty thoughts and hoping to see her turn dark blue Tommy put on his most innocent face, "First this is a girl's color, and they would be for you, but what would I wear if you wanted me to try them on? Nothing?" Emphasizing the last word.
With a facade of indignation, "Why Mr. Sandoval, are you implying that the Governess's daughter would be involved in anything so uncouth as to make a respectable male present himself for inspection with only what the Goddess endowed him with?"
Tommy returned the boots to the display and stepped forward to steal a kiss."My Dear Miss Seskie, you know dammed well that you would take full advantage of that situation."
Returning the kiss, Valenlina smiled. "Yes, Mr. Sandoval I would." She bent down to whisper into his ear. "I think we both need to cool off or we will never make it to the fireworks show."
Tommy took her by the hand." Looks like I'll have to settle for mint chocolate chip ice cream."
Valenlina put on a hurt expression. "You are so cruel."
They left the window shopping and continued walking back to the courthouse square. The roads around the court were closed for three days for Frontier Days and the Festive of Colors. This opened the court square up for a giant art show and sales venue. This was the change for local artisans to show off their wares in the hopes of making one or selling to a noble patron and then getting follow-up commission work. The north side of the courthouse was dedicated to custom motorcycles and the east side was for classic custom cars. The west side, known as "Whiskey Row" is where the food vendors and their destination Jacksons Ice Cream was set up right in front of the Palace Restaurant and Saloon.
Turning the corner to walk up Whiskey Row Tommy could not help but feel he was being watched. Tommy had to keep Valenlina from heading off to go look at this or that. He had to remind her, that ice cream was first or he would have to give her a spanking. Valenlina would always retort with, "Promises, promises".
When they were getting their ice cream Valenlina nudged Tommy and told him to look across the street. Standing in front of a face painting booth was a short portly balding human male with a puggy round face. He wearing a well-made black suit, the only thing missing from the 1930s gangster getup was a fedora hat.
Taking their ice cream and heading off to a wood sculptor's booth Tommy kicked himself mentally for not seeing him earlier, he was the only person wearing a business suit. He should have stood out like a sore thumb, but he just seemed to blend in. The booth was impressive, boasting several pieces commissioned by various members of the nobility. Tommy ate his ice cream and kept an eye on the gangster while Valenlina inspected the various pieces and got sticker shock.
Tommy tried to get Valenlina's attention when the gangster entered the booth and proceeded to the cane rack. By the time Valenlina noticed, the gangster was already paying for the cane he had selected.
When the gangster finished his transaction, he turned to Tommy and Valenlina." Well if it isn't the young man of the hour, Thomas Sandoval. It's a pleasure to meet you. As well as you, Miss Seskie."
Flustered, Tommy stuttered out, "Who the fuck are you? Have you been watching me?"
The man smiled, but it felt unnerving, maybe a little malicious, too., "My name is Mr. Rojo and I watch everybody. It's my calling, but I will admit that you and your brother have piqued my interest. I go through life watching the world go by, I enjoy the shifting mosaic of peoples' lives, and how they interconnect. For example, the car that you and your brother build was a 69 or 70 I could not tell with what is out on the news media.”
Tommy waited to tell this to go pound sand, but he need to talk and tell Mr. Rojo what even he needed, Tommy forgot Valenlina was listening as he spoke.” It is a 69, why is that important?”
The gangster slowly dropped part of his smile as he replied, ”It is not important, it is merely a curiosity just like why not use the Confederate battle flag and why the name Valkirey?”
Eagerly Tommy responded, “The Betsy Ross over the Stars and Bars, because it is more appropriate at this time and the Shil’vati Imperium has no idea what it means, instead of erasing human history maybe the Shil’vati could try learning from it.” almost quoting Sean Connery about goose stopping morons and burning books. “ Now for Valkire over General Lee, that is easy, Valkire’s are sexy and cool. and General Lee would get us in trouble, just like the Stars and Bars.”
The gangster's smile was completely gone, and his expression and tone had changed to serious but neutral almost professorial, “But I have a simple question for you, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you would give me an honest answer, Thomas what is gravity?"
Thomas could not stop himself and replied without hesitation. "Gravity is a higher dimensional construct. When projected from a higher dimension it appears to be a force, but to use it as a dimensional construct the space-time gravity interpretation must be inverted to be the first-dimensional construct so that space-time gravity becomes gravitational space-time with an indeterminate number of dimensional constructs between gravity and space."
The gangster looked surprised, while Valenlina looked utterly confused. "Is that your brother Robert's words or yours?"
Thomas hesitated only slightly before he replied. "Mostly Robert's, I can't dream up the shit he does but once he explains it, I can see it. He uses me as a sounding board." Tommy suddenly realized what he was saying. "Who the fuck are you?"
The gangster took Tommy's hand to shake it. "Mr. Sandoval, I told you I am a watcher and now I get to watch you. Have a glorious life Mr. Sandoval" nodding to Valenlina, "and you too, Miss Seskie."
Tommy watched as the gangster walked out of the booth noting that nobody noticed his passing.
Valenlina had been too engrossed in Mr. Rojo and Tommy's conversation to say or do anything, but now that Mr. Rojo was no longer there she angrily turned to face Tommy."Thomas, you have some explaining to do!"
Tommy would not realize until much later, that the gangster had placed the cane in his has as he left.
/*******************************/
First:
Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch1 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Previous:
Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch7 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Next:
Chapter 8
Extra:
Janissary: The Son Of War : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Janissary: Vision from Zy'Verila : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
submitted by Hedgehog_5150 to Sexyspacebabes [link] [comments]
And a big thanks to the authors and their stories that inspired to get off my ass and put my fingers to keyboard. RandomTinkerer (City Slickers and Hayseeds), Punnynfunny (Denied Operations), CompassWithHat (Top Lasgun), Rhion-618 (Just One Drop), UncleCieling(Going Native), RobotStatic (Far Away), Kazevenikov (The Cryptid Chronicle), Also to the editor # Fan Beta Readers and KLiCkonthat .
As always comments, complaints, and suggestions are welcome.
This is a fair use notice. Any and all aspects of this may be used on and within this subreddit only, with attribution. All other uses are exclusive to the author.
/*******************************/
Nanorix took the news from the advocates in stride, better than Linda. They had spent the night mutually venting at the injustice of the situation while putting away bottles of gin. Max sounded almost broken by the news while Nora the optimist in the family, firmly held to the belief that things would work out. Rufus was, well, Rufus. Intuitively compassionate, which is why he was laying in the front seat of the truck with his head on Linda's lap as they drove up to Flagstaff.
Linda was trying to sleep off her hangover, her eyes closed but not asleep. Alila had been honest that the only reason Garquile was not tied up in this was that he had her direct protection as a territorial governess. Tommy did not have that level of security and without it, he was in more danger than Robert. From what Alila had said, elements in the Interior wanted Robert dead, other interested parties wanted him alive because of his potential. The situation was so bad the Planetary Governess had stepped in and ordered the house arrest of six high-ranking members of the Interior and let it be known that if anything happened to young Mr. Pierce they would die publicly.
Neither Alila nor the planetary governess knew why the Interior wanted Robert dead, she did. After she heard that the pod found the children and what was being done to them. Her lieutenant had completely lost it, she rounded everyone operating the orphanage and lined them against the wall, and had them shot. The Interior had come in and had done what they always did, cleaned up the mess, and protected those who were important and connected. Before the interior got there one of the girls found a large data server and they made copies. There were four full copies still on Earth and one that she knew was off-world, and she had one of them. It had been too dangerous to keep at home so she had setup a remote server that would once a week send out a heartbeat signal. There were major safety measures in place to prevent access.
She had managed to go to Flagstaff for brunch about once a month to establish a pattern of behavior. Those trips with Robert and sometimes Tommy had always been good, nothing special just good days. She and Linda would have brunch and she would trigger a download to her server buried under the barn. When they had spoken with Alila, Max, and Nora, Max had commented that if anybody could stack the deck and pull inside straight now was the time to do it. She did not tell Linda why they had to come, just that she needed to come up and check on something.
She and Linda had a quiet brunch on the patio of the restaurant to allow Rufus to join them. As they ate she triggered the data transfer. The data transfer would take at least thirty minutes to complete, so they would have a nice long brunch and talk about anything but the boys, she even took a couple of selfies of the two of them to cover what she was doing. Rufus camped out under the table but never relaxed, she was not sure if he sensed her unease or something else was going on that she could not see.
They stayed and chit-chatted until Linda finished her third cup of coffee. She did not want the third cup but they needed the extra time to let the data transfer complete, and by that time Linda's hangover had started to subside. The drive home was uneventful, but traffic was horrible due to the festival of colors going on, it was the 4th of July after all.
/*******************************/
Ishani was tired and hungry but had little interest in eating. She and Ensign Tha'xur had been up half the night working to translate the new equations that Robert had created yesterday, with a new understanding of how the translation needed to work. Thoughts of Robert consumed her mind, and she had to fight the urge to look over and watch him, the singular human male. His name seemed to roll off her tongue, lingering from her dreams the previous night as she drifted off to sleep. Those dreams had been far from innocent, filled with exotic and seductive images of him, even in his baggy exercise clothing.
Returning her attention to her food, Ishani shifted uncomfortably. She would need to change her underclothes if she continued dwelling on him like this. Taking another bite of the fruit, nut, and sauce mixture, she tried to enjoy it, but it did little to distract her from watching him. He moved slowly, almost as if dancing, though she couldn't grasp the purpose behind his movements. Ensign Tha'xur's timely arrival saved her from making an obvious fool of herself by staring at a boy nearly two years her junior. It always felt like she was the only one looking.
Ensign Tha'xur sat down with a tray of food and jokingly said, "Ground control to Crewwoman Vevreix, are you awake?" Ishani returned her gaze to her food and responded, "Yes, ma'am, I am awake, just..." Before she could finish her sentence, Ensign Tha'xur interrupted, "Distracted?"
Signing without looking up and absentmindedly playing with her food, Ishani replied, "Yes, ma'am, horribly. It's just... he's just one boy. I have enough common sense to know that there is no way I should even consider... why couldn't he be old, wrinkled, and fat..."
Ensign Tha'xur completed Ishani's thought, saying, "Instead, he's young, fit, and I would even go as far as to say he's attractive in a very unmasculine way, with that wounded, sad boy aura."
Looking up, Ishani was taken aback and asked, "What do you mean 'you could call him attractive'? Are you blind? I mean, he may be a little short, but other than that, he is..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Smiling and taking a bite of her burrito, Ensign Tha'xur replied, "He is desirable, and deep down, I believe you could take away all his pain and sadness... but please don't go there." Shifting into a serious tone, she continued, "I overheard Cmdr Norroe and Lt Cmdr Ashix talking about him the day we arrived. What caught my attention was Cmdr Norroe mentioning his thousand-yard stare that is measured in miles. There are significant parts of his life that we don't have access to because they've been redacted by the interior."
Ishani looked over at Robert, who appeared to have finished his morning workout and was heading towards the mobile kitchen. She murmured, "No one is ever so lost in the deepest of caves that they cannot be found by the beating of their heart. There is always hope and always a way out."
Ensign Tha'xur wiped her face clean of the red sauce that had dripped from her burrito and commented, "You, Crewwoman, are an optimist."
"With all due respect, ma'am, have you looked?" Ishani responded quizzically.
With a wry smile En. Tha'xur replied smoothly "I am technically a married woman and my husband and kho wives are going to be here in three days. I am hoping that my leave request will be honored, we were supposed to go to Tel Aviv for 14 days." Frowning slightly with the last statement.
Ishani gave an understanding smile "Well, that explains why you are not interested. You know, if you want to get the time off then ask for help. What is the worst he can do to say no?"
En. Tha'xur almost laughed at that, "So what should I do ask him over here for you to ogle him and for me to get a chance to go on leave, I do not think he would like that, being that he is here under guard."
Ishani took another bite of her food, ‘alright girl put up or shut up’ she thought to herself, before standing. "Ma'am if you never ask for help you will never get any." This is not a good idea, turning to find Robert who was looking for an open table to eat at. "Robert, can you join us over here, please?" Blessed Nest mother, that sounded so bad she inwardly cringed.
/************************/
Robert had gotten his food-laden tray and was looking for an empty place to sit. It felt a little weird not having a personal shadow always with him. The petty officers had told him last night that he would be given some space and an opportunity to interact with the people here. "Go out, mingle, talk to people, that's a winning idea," he thought sarcastically. Yup, everything was normal again. Alone in a room full of people and completely clueless about how to do the most basic of things, like talking to anybody.
Now, the people he could talk to were a problem. Being the only male and the only human, he received looks. The looks could be categorized into three groups: lust, curiosity, and pity. Dealing with lust was easy; he just chose not to care, and thankfully, they were discreet about it for now. Pity, on the other hand, infuriated him because most of the time, it was fake. Whenever someone expressed their sympathy for all the things he had been through, he wanted to scream. At best, it was a polite social convention, and at worst, it was a selfish and internalized burden of guilt that had nothing to do with him.
Just as he spotted an empty table at the far end, somebody called out his name. "Can you join us over here, please?" Shit, it was Ishani, the one person in the whole damned place who had a very unsettling effect on him. She was the only one here who scared the shit out of him. Taking a breath to collect himself, he acknowledged her with a nod and proceeded to join her and the Ensign at their table.
He noticed that when he acknowledged her, she just beamed and got all bubbly. That was the best word for it. Her glowing tattoos seemed to brighten for just a moment before she sat down, leaving him to wonder what those tattoos looked like on the rest of her body. He made it to the table and sat down on autopilot while his mind indulged in a little fantastical daydream, leaving him noticeably flushed and uncomfortable in ways that only men could be.
Setting his tray and bottle of maple syrup down on the table and taking a seat, Robert tried to say thank you, but neither Ishani nor the Ensign had their translators running.
En. Tha'xur noticed him stop trying to use hand speak and realized that they had just messed up a little. "I am sorry, that was rude of us," she said as she tried to get her translation app up and running. Meanwhile, Ishani was no help; she was head down in her food, blushing and trying very hard not to be noticed. "There, we're set."
Robert was relieved when En. Tha'xur got her translation app running, so he wouldn't have to stare at Ishani across the round table from him. He returned his attention to En. Tha'xur. "I was trying to say thank you for asking me to join you, and it's okay. You at least figured it out."
Ishani looked up from her half-eaten food when En. Tha'xur's translator started speaking. Fuck, she thought, this is so embarrassing. Inviting a boy to come over and eat with you only to ignore him when he gets here. Idiot. Turning to face him, her brain failed as she smiled stupidly and took another bite. "Hungry?"
En. Tha'xur couldn't help but cringe. The situation unfolding before she seemed straight out of a cliché "coming of age" story, where a girl meets a boy and the universe seems to pause just for them. It reminded her of the sentimental videos her older brother and his friends would tear up over. Poor Ishani, the other girls around her would roast her mercilessly, yet she remained oblivious to the fact that she was being watched. En. Tha'xur couldn't decide if it was cute or tragic. Determined to intervene and save Ishani from herself, she spoke up, "Robert, the reason Crewwoman Vevreix invited you over is that I need your help."
"Hungry?" Robert was caught off guard by Ishani's question. Did she even understand what she was doing? He found her confusing, and he just wanted to finish his meal quickly and GTFO. En. Tha'xur was speaking, but he had missed what she said. He decided to play dumb and replied, "OK."
En. Tha'xur thought to herself, "This is good." She then explained, "Well, my husband and my three kho wives are going to be arriving on Earth in three days. I had scheduled a 14-day leave, but then I received an emergency assignment here, and I don't know if they will honor my leave request."
Robert had managed to pay enough attention to understand that she needed a favor. He had two basic choices: give a hard no and explain that the advocates wouldn't allow him to help until they gave the go-ahead, or try to answer her questions. His best option was to listen and see if he could offer some hints. "I am quite restricted by what my advocates have told me to do, but I will try to point you in the right direction."
Finally, Ishani managed to gather her thoughts and interjected, "See, I told you, all you need to do is ask."
En. Tha'xur rolled her eyes, silently expressing her frustration towards Ishani. She replied, "Thank you, can you help?"
Talking with his mouth full wasn't polite and attempting to gesture while eating proved to be a challenge. Robert sighed as he reluctantly set down his fork, his stomach growling in protest. "Yes, I will genuinely help you. And if you're wondering why," Robert paused, trying to understand his willingness to assist, "it's because you asked. Now, the big question is, do you even know what you want to ask?"
Ishani eagerly jumped in, unknowingly giving En. Tha'xur some time to formulate a proper question to ask. "Okay, if I can ask one too, please?"
Robert held up one finger as he obeyed the demands of his stomach and shoved a load of runny fried eggs and hash browns in his mouth. "Sure, since you saved me from eating alone." Robert swallowed hard after he finished speaking, realizing he had just unintentionally flirted with her. Thinking inwardly, "Shut up, dumb ass. You are going to get yourself in trouble."
Ishani sputtered like Joe Pesci for just a couple of seconds before getting to her real question. "Ok, ok, ok, ok." Pointing to the work area where the Charger was, she asked, "Why is the car so important? Why did you build it?"
Robert shoveled another load of eggs and hash browns into his mouth. "Why would a human boy on Earth, living in North America, want to build a fast car and one that could fly?" Pausing to inhale the bite of his eggs and hash browns, he continued, "Because it was fun, and it would have been cool to have a hotrod and be the only one to fly. Well, that would be a show-off, a little, and to have a shitload of fun flying around in it."
En. Tha'xur cluelessly responded, "What is a 'hotrod,' and why would a flying car be 'cool'? I guess that means good?"
Robert had to roll his head back before responding, to the idea of attempting to explain custom car and motorcycle cultures. "Humans like to personalize cars and other things as expressions of their personalities and rolling pieces of art in some cases. For a human boy to be able to build a car and go fast is a dream. Hotrods are the result of those builds."
Taking another break to move the French toast in front of him and pour on the maple syrup, he continued, "Back to the first part of your question, 'Why is it important?' Other than a personal attachment to the memories connected to it... it is not, in the grand scheme of things, it was a mistake. A very valuable mistake, it disproved one of my approaches to a bigger challenge."
En. Tha'xur and Crewwoman Vevreix just looked at each other and mouthed the same words, "It was a fucking mistake!!"
Robert tried to hide his smug satisfaction. Nobody ever considered just how much of his work was critical and applied to his big challenge. Ishani looked at Robert as he dug into his French toast. "If that was a mistake, what is the prize?" Robert just smiled and shrugged in response to the question. En. Tha'xur sat dejected, "Well, that did answer one of the big questions. The car is a stepping stone to the bigger thing."
Watching the Ensign sit dejected and look a little lost made Robert feel like a little shit. Flipping the bird to the bureaucratic machine that was the Imperium always felt like a "fuck yes," but trolling a person was different. She had asked him for help, and he had used it to be petty and spiteful. "You don't need to ask right now, and if you loan me your data slate, I will give you a couple of hints," he said, reaching out for the device.
En. Tha'xur handed over the data slate wordlessly. Robert opened a new document and wrote:
"If you have 'The Right Stuff,' you can connect the dots."
"Space-Time Gravity is not the same as Gravity Space-Time."
When he finished, he handed the data slate back to the ensign and returned to his food. En. Tha'xur picked up the data slate, read the hints, and found the first line to be of no use other than some devotional wisdom that would be preached in a temple. However, the second line held interesting possibilities. Grabbing the data slate, Ishani quickly scanned the text and handed it back to En. Tha'xur. "Thank you, I think we can work with this," she said. Turning to En. Tha'xur, she added, "Ma'am, I think we need to work in conference room 2 today. It has the other digital whiteboard, and I think we need the space."
En. Tha'xur picked up the data slate and looked right at Robert. "I don't get the first one. The second one could be applied in a dozen or more places."
Finishing his first piece of French toast, Robert tried to remember the order of the equations to point her in the right direction. "Show me my work from last night, and I will show you the one to work against. Don't try to finish it, just try to understand it."
En. Tha'xur handed the translated copy of Robert's work back to him, and he looked at it with a mixture of fascination and difficulty. It was strange to see his work presented so neatly, but it was also challenging to read. He had to mentally retranslate it to the original version he had written. Working through the problem brought his headache back in full force, making the surroundings too bright and diminishing his appetite. Robert tried to hide his discomfort, squinting his eyes and taking deep breaths.
Concerned, Ishani noticed his strained expression and asked, "Are you alright? You don't look well."
With a weak smile, Robert replied, "I shouldn't have done that. I usually take a couple of days off after my little flying trips. It's like working out too hard and feeling extremely sore the next day, then trying to work out again. Not fun."
En. Tha'xur felt uneasy knowing that Robert was enduring pain to help her. She thought of her father and how he would be disappointed in her. "Are you sure you don't need a doctor?" she asked, genuinely concerned.
"I'll be fine, I just need some sleep," Robert reassured them, pushing his plate of food away. "If either of you wants to finish this, go for it. At the very least, don't waste the bacon."
Ishani reached for the plate and admitted, "I've heard about bacon, but I'm a little afraid to try new foods. I don't want to be disappointed."
En. Tha'xur reached for a piece of bacon, saying, "I love bacon. I'll even taste-test it to make sure it's okay." She smiled at Ishani and took a bite.
Robert observed as En. Tha'xur's eyes widened in shock. Oops, he remembered that he had coated the bacon in maple syrup. However, she didn't spit it out, which was a good sign. His mom loved crispy bacon dipped in maple syrup. Sometimes, she would devour an entire package of bacon if there was maple syrup in the house, and then she would try to conceal the fact that a pound of bacon had disappeared. She would even do her dishes, a chore that was usually Robert's.
En. Tha'xur bit into the bacon, expecting a salty taste but experiencing the combination of sweet and salty. The flavor was incredible. She paused to savor the taste before chewing again. "You have to try this!" she exclaimed.
Ishani, with anticipation in her eyes, sniffed the remaining piece of bacon. "Here goes nothing." She cherished this moment, as it was the closest she had come to tasting her nest mother's nectar. Grabbing the plate, she declared, "I'm finishing this!" and devoured the last piece of French toast without bothering with utensils.
Despite his throbbing headache, Robert couldn't help but smile as he rose from the table. "Enjoy. I need some sleep."
/*******************************/
Tommy had to roll his eyes at Valenlina's latest attempt to "improve" his wardrobe with a purple satin shirt with a matching sea green scarf. No matter how many times Valenlina tried to have Tommy dress like a proper male, Tommy always simply said no. Early on in the dating, Valenlina had gotten so frustrated that she also broke up with him, not that she ever told him. Her father and kho mother Tearhart had stepped in and explained that she could not make a human be like a Shil. The Imperium still tried, and the Humans resisted more. There were several semi-celebrities on the data-net that advised Shil’vai women on dating human males and females. The most common rule for dating a human male is not to try and change them to be acceptable in your circle because they will resent you for it. You have attracted a human male for a reason, embrace it.
Their walk through downtown Prescott was a moment the Tommy did not have to think about the meeting tomorrow. Early this morning he and his mother had gotten almost an hour of one on one time with Advocate Roskin and she was able to explain in greater detail what was expected of him tomorrow and how things could go right or wrong. Withholding information was one of the worse things he could do. After the meeting, Valenlina noticed the additional stress in Tommy. It was so bad that physical affection had no effect. There was only one thing other than sex that could distraction, window shopping.
Their window shopping trip started as a serious attempt to make him presentable in Shil’vati society, ow her attempts to help him look more presentable were just something they did to have fun. In many ways, it was closer to foreplay now, as Tommy now attempts to have Valenlina dress like a human girl. Tommy did have one big win, a pair of 4-inch-high heels, he had said they improved the view coming and going. Her big win last year was a shirt and tie set for his tailored charcoal suit, he was finally willing to wear formal attire with a splash color.
Valenlina could see her best effort to pull Tommy out of what his mother called a 'funk' were not working. He was still not willing to talk to her about it, she could understand that he was pissed but his silence bothered her. While he had not pushed her away, he still felt distant. Last year's fireworks had been the warmup act for what had followed. She could never look at Mr. Scott's old Ford pickup without blushing just a little bit.
Tommy smiled with a wicked little smile, "Thinking dirty thoughts again I see." he said holding up a pair of women's cowboy boots in hot pink.
Playfully Valenlina put on her pouty face, "What would you wear with them?"
Taking his turn to think dirty thoughts and hoping to see her turn dark blue Tommy put on his most innocent face, "First this is a girl's color, and they would be for you, but what would I wear if you wanted me to try them on? Nothing?" Emphasizing the last word.
With a facade of indignation, "Why Mr. Sandoval, are you implying that the Governess's daughter would be involved in anything so uncouth as to make a respectable male present himself for inspection with only what the Goddess endowed him with?"
Tommy returned the boots to the display and stepped forward to steal a kiss."My Dear Miss Seskie, you know dammed well that you would take full advantage of that situation."
Returning the kiss, Valenlina smiled. "Yes, Mr. Sandoval I would." She bent down to whisper into his ear. "I think we both need to cool off or we will never make it to the fireworks show."
Tommy took her by the hand." Looks like I'll have to settle for mint chocolate chip ice cream."
Valenlina put on a hurt expression. "You are so cruel."
They left the window shopping and continued walking back to the courthouse square. The roads around the court were closed for three days for Frontier Days and the Festive of Colors. This opened the court square up for a giant art show and sales venue. This was the change for local artisans to show off their wares in the hopes of making one or selling to a noble patron and then getting follow-up commission work. The north side of the courthouse was dedicated to custom motorcycles and the east side was for classic custom cars. The west side, known as "Whiskey Row" is where the food vendors and their destination Jacksons Ice Cream was set up right in front of the Palace Restaurant and Saloon.
Turning the corner to walk up Whiskey Row Tommy could not help but feel he was being watched. Tommy had to keep Valenlina from heading off to go look at this or that. He had to remind her, that ice cream was first or he would have to give her a spanking. Valenlina would always retort with, "Promises, promises".
When they were getting their ice cream Valenlina nudged Tommy and told him to look across the street. Standing in front of a face painting booth was a short portly balding human male with a puggy round face. He wearing a well-made black suit, the only thing missing from the 1930s gangster getup was a fedora hat.
Taking their ice cream and heading off to a wood sculptor's booth Tommy kicked himself mentally for not seeing him earlier, he was the only person wearing a business suit. He should have stood out like a sore thumb, but he just seemed to blend in. The booth was impressive, boasting several pieces commissioned by various members of the nobility. Tommy ate his ice cream and kept an eye on the gangster while Valenlina inspected the various pieces and got sticker shock.
Tommy tried to get Valenlina's attention when the gangster entered the booth and proceeded to the cane rack. By the time Valenlina noticed, the gangster was already paying for the cane he had selected.
When the gangster finished his transaction, he turned to Tommy and Valenlina." Well if it isn't the young man of the hour, Thomas Sandoval. It's a pleasure to meet you. As well as you, Miss Seskie."
Flustered, Tommy stuttered out, "Who the fuck are you? Have you been watching me?"
The man smiled, but it felt unnerving, maybe a little malicious, too., "My name is Mr. Rojo and I watch everybody. It's my calling, but I will admit that you and your brother have piqued my interest. I go through life watching the world go by, I enjoy the shifting mosaic of peoples' lives, and how they interconnect. For example, the car that you and your brother build was a 69 or 70 I could not tell with what is out on the news media.”
Tommy waited to tell this to go pound sand, but he need to talk and tell Mr. Rojo what even he needed, Tommy forgot Valenlina was listening as he spoke.” It is a 69, why is that important?”
The gangster slowly dropped part of his smile as he replied, ”It is not important, it is merely a curiosity just like why not use the Confederate battle flag and why the name Valkirey?”
Eagerly Tommy responded, “The Betsy Ross over the Stars and Bars, because it is more appropriate at this time and the Shil’vati Imperium has no idea what it means, instead of erasing human history maybe the Shil’vati could try learning from it.” almost quoting Sean Connery about goose stopping morons and burning books. “ Now for Valkire over General Lee, that is easy, Valkire’s are sexy and cool. and General Lee would get us in trouble, just like the Stars and Bars.”
The gangster's smile was completely gone, and his expression and tone had changed to serious but neutral almost professorial, “But I have a simple question for you, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you would give me an honest answer, Thomas what is gravity?"
Thomas could not stop himself and replied without hesitation. "Gravity is a higher dimensional construct. When projected from a higher dimension it appears to be a force, but to use it as a dimensional construct the space-time gravity interpretation must be inverted to be the first-dimensional construct so that space-time gravity becomes gravitational space-time with an indeterminate number of dimensional constructs between gravity and space."
The gangster looked surprised, while Valenlina looked utterly confused. "Is that your brother Robert's words or yours?"
Thomas hesitated only slightly before he replied. "Mostly Robert's, I can't dream up the shit he does but once he explains it, I can see it. He uses me as a sounding board." Tommy suddenly realized what he was saying. "Who the fuck are you?"
The gangster took Tommy's hand to shake it. "Mr. Sandoval, I told you I am a watcher and now I get to watch you. Have a glorious life Mr. Sandoval" nodding to Valenlina, "and you too, Miss Seskie."
Tommy watched as the gangster walked out of the booth noting that nobody noticed his passing.
Valenlina had been too engrossed in Mr. Rojo and Tommy's conversation to say or do anything, but now that Mr. Rojo was no longer there she angrily turned to face Tommy."Thomas, you have some explaining to do!"
Tommy would not realize until much later, that the gangster had placed the cane in his has as he left.
/*******************************/
First:
Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch1 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Previous:
Janissary: The Joy Ride Ch7 : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Next:
Chapter 8
Extra:
Janissary: The Son Of War : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
Janissary: Vision from Zy'Verila : Sexyspacebabes (reddit.com)
2023.06.10 00:55 delibes [12/06/2023] Hammersmith Hang Out
I mean, come on, don't we all know the drill by now? Meet at Latymers, W6 8BS around 6.30-7pm. This time we can toast the slow demise of Reddit itself!
Anyway, here's the template post...
Looking to spend an evening a week chatting with friendly redditors? Hammersmith Hang Out is for you.
So what happens at this meetup?
Each week this meet up is held in a pub - we all sit around a table and generally chat about anything we can think of.. that's pretty much all there is to it! There are usually a few who will get dinner from the Thai restaurant at the pub. We get people aged from 18 to in their 60s, but the majority are 24-40. You can turn up at any time, people usually start leaving between 9 and closing, there are nearly always plenty left at closing time (last orders - 11). Currently we are averaging 15-25 people turning up.
Do you talk about reddit and memes all evening?
No! reddit is hardly ever mentioned, there are no laptops in sight and we've had plenty of people who have not used reddit. (Well, there might be some mention this week)
Can I come along?
Of course - that is why it is posted on LSC each week, the meet up is very newbie friendly - we have people new to LSC join us regularly. If you're very very shy don't hesitate to message/text/call me ahead of the pub and let me know, I'll do what I can to get you chatting away with everyone as if you've been every week.
What if I don't want alcohol?
No problem! The pub also serves various soft drinks, fruit juices, tea, coffee and water. We have non-drinkers often.
Since after the above people still asked...
I'm ********* is it OK if I come along?
We have had men, women, transgender, British, foreign (even a northerner or two), gay, straight, drinkers, non-drinkers, smokers, non-smokers, religious and non-religious
In fact, the only people who wouldn't be welcome are those under 18 or anyone who is not able to conduct themselves appropriately in an adult social situation.
Initial meetup.
Location/Time: Latymers, W6 8BS / People often start turning up from 19:00ish but can be as early as 18:30. I'll get there for 19:00-19.30.
Pic here to force the preview image
Our tables are reserved, we start on the circular tables close to the entrance and we might spill over onto the table(s) nearby.
The first table will either be outside or at the front to the right of the door. (also, there will be Reddit on the reserved signs And hopefully Snoo)
There's a (usually quiet) optional Whatsapp group for the meetup - message me via chat for an invite link. (whatsapp group is pretty much only me posting this link each week and trying to get people to actually respond.. So no benefit of being in it if you're not showing up).
submitted by delibes to LondonSocialClub [link] [comments]
Anyway, here's the template post...
Looking to spend an evening a week chatting with friendly redditors? Hammersmith Hang Out is for you.
So what happens at this meetup?
Each week this meet up is held in a pub - we all sit around a table and generally chat about anything we can think of.. that's pretty much all there is to it! There are usually a few who will get dinner from the Thai restaurant at the pub. We get people aged from 18 to in their 60s, but the majority are 24-40. You can turn up at any time, people usually start leaving between 9 and closing, there are nearly always plenty left at closing time (last orders - 11). Currently we are averaging 15-25 people turning up.
Do you talk about reddit and memes all evening?
No! reddit is hardly ever mentioned, there are no laptops in sight and we've had plenty of people who have not used reddit. (Well, there might be some mention this week)
Can I come along?
Of course - that is why it is posted on LSC each week, the meet up is very newbie friendly - we have people new to LSC join us regularly. If you're very very shy don't hesitate to message/text/call me ahead of the pub and let me know, I'll do what I can to get you chatting away with everyone as if you've been every week.
What if I don't want alcohol?
No problem! The pub also serves various soft drinks, fruit juices, tea, coffee and water. We have non-drinkers often.
Since after the above people still asked...
I'm ********* is it OK if I come along?
We have had men, women, transgender, British, foreign (even a northerner or two), gay, straight, drinkers, non-drinkers, smokers, non-smokers, religious and non-religious
In fact, the only people who wouldn't be welcome are those under 18 or anyone who is not able to conduct themselves appropriately in an adult social situation.
Initial meetup.
Location/Time: Latymers, W6 8BS / People often start turning up from 19:00ish but can be as early as 18:30. I'll get there for 19:00-19.30.
Pic here to force the preview image
Our tables are reserved, we start on the circular tables close to the entrance and we might spill over onto the table(s) nearby.
The first table will either be outside or at the front to the right of the door. (also, there will be Reddit on the reserved signs And hopefully Snoo)
There's a (usually quiet) optional Whatsapp group for the meetup - message me via chat for an invite link. (whatsapp group is pretty much only me posting this link each week and trying to get people to actually respond.. So no benefit of being in it if you're not showing up).
2023.06.10 00:36 the_small_lileko Transform your Boox Device into an All-in-One Japanese Study Tool
 | submitted by the_small_lileko to Onyx_Boox [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/p23gpsg1825b1.png?width=3840&format=png&auto=webp&s=81f7bde381f960e74dffbb5e940b05fbbb6d923a (This guide can be applied for any language but includes resources mostly geared towards Japanese) ## Guide Overview: #### 1.) A fresh perspective on language study #### 2.) Key components of input-based language acquisition #### 3.) Turn your Boox device into a Japanese study power tool #### Introduction: Hello everyone, Before we dive into the main guide, let me give you a preview of what you can expect from the content below and share how I stumbled upon this contest. Throughout this thread, I will introduce you to a more effective approach to learning any language, delve into various methods and resources that are popular in the language learning community, and guide you on harnessing the full potential of your Boox device as a powerful Japanese language study tool. I will walk you through different programs and tools that I personally use in my studies, which heavily rely on screen usage. This is precisely why I began searching for an e-ink device with the necessary hardware and software to support my workflow. During my search, I came across the Onyx Boox Leaf 2 contest, which happened to be the exact model I planned on purchasing. I realized that discussing how I intend to utilize it in my own studies aligned perfectly with the theme. At the end of the guide we should be able to utilize our boox device in three categories. Although it may require some time and effort, the rewards of switching from OLED displays to a crisp and clear e-ink screen will be more than worth it. In the visual below, you can get a glimpse of what might await you after completing the setup. (Please be aware that the visual representation has been created using Photoshop and may not accurately depict the actual appearance during use.) https://preview.redd.it/nkpepf89825b1.png?width=5000&format=png&auto=webp&s=51db4880f70858c50669825deae6dc12a32442fa Now that the introduction is out of the way let us continue with the guide. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- #### 1.) A fresh perspective on language study Traditional language learning methods attempt to teach a languages by utilizing tools such as grammar drills and vocabulary lists. However, these methods are highly insufficient when it comes to truly interacting with the language. It's like trying to learn how to swim by sitting next to a pool and reading a book about swimming mechanics. Fortunately, Stephen Krashen, the leading linguist in the field of language acquisition research, has introduced a far better approach. Contrary to traditional methods, Krashen proposes the Input hypothesis. According to this hypothesis, true language learning only occurs when the student is actually immersed in the language, rather than simply studying it. In short, it's about jumping into the pool and swimming instead of reading about it. To gain a deeper understanding of Krashen's hypothesis, (!) I highly recommend watching the video below (!) where he dives into more detail. The information contained in the video is essential for the rest of the guide. YOUTUBE VİDEO ON LANGUAGE ACQUISITION: Stephen Krashen on Language Acquisition Stephen D. Krashen, an American linguist, educational researcher and a professor at the University of Southern California --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- #### 2.) Key components of input-based language acquisition "We all acquire language in the same way: by understanding messages." –Stephen Krashen That is exactly what we are trying to do, prepare our brain to understand messages in the content we consume. In short we try to increase our comprehension of the language we want to acquire. The elements used in this method and a short summary of them for the sake of clarity are as follows: (This is only a brief overview, specific resources and tools will be presented in the next chapter "Turn your Boox device into a Japanese study power tool") https://preview.redd.it/l34oqk7vg25b1.png?width=512&format=png&auto=webp&s=a0a2746b16e17b5cf786d047e2ca73bf2bde948c ###### Immersion: The act of consuming content in our target language at our level or slightly higher. ###### Grammar: Instead of pointless grammar drills, grammar points are only skimmed trough until a vague understanding is established. Immersion will handle the rest, as it did with our native language where none of us had to sit down and do endless grammar exercises to learn how to speak it as a baby. ###### Vocabulary: Language acquisition is not a sprint but a probably 4 year long marathon but the brain is not all that great at storying information over a long period of time. We will overcome shortcoming with various tools mentioned later in this guide. The links below are helpful resources to establish a deeper understanding of the methods used: - Refold Roadmap - A very detailed a guide on how to approach studying for any language: (https://refold.la/simplified) - TheMoeWay - A guide for Japanese: (https://learnjapanese.moe/guide/) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- #### 3.) Turn your Boox device into a Japanese study power tool Now that we have established a basic understanding of our method let us continue with specific resources and tools we need to study Japanese on our Boox device We need to set up three systems, System 1.) Vocabulary (digital flashcard system) System 2.) Grammar (grammar guides trusted by the language learning community) System 3.) Immersion (set up a digital pop up dictionary to read Japanese content ) All of the systems and programs shown below I already use on my Android phone and PC. But thanks to the Leaf 2 not being an e-ink reader but an android 11 e-ink tablet, all of the necessary programs and applications are supported and can be used on the device. Necessary details for the set up for each system will be included in the rest of the guide. ##### System 1.) Vocabulary: There are two problems we face in traditional vocabulary study that we can easily be solved with an application widely used in the language learning community called; ANKI. https://preview.redd.it/5nlvqmnh925b1.png?width=200&format=png&auto=webp&s=01150b376a4dabdf2ca002d5517be4015b7d16d4 SET UP GUIDE : (https://www.migaku.io/blog/get-started) (! NOTE: This guide also includes the set up for the Migaku browser extension which we are going to utilize later on but for now it is okey to just set up anki !) What is Anki: Anki is a digital flashcard system that can be used like traditional vocab cards where the target word is on the front side and the translation with the example sentence + audio is on the backside, as shown below. This digital system helps us address two main issues associated with traditional vocabulary lists: https://preview.redd.it/n6fbaahm925b1.png?width=1001&format=png&auto=webp&s=b10609e6d2384c9f24d7a7f4c753ddeca39cef3e Issue 1: On average, beginners need to learn the first 3000 most common words in a language to comprehend local newspapers. However, there is no efficient way to track and review the words we have learned, those we are likely to forget, and the ones already forgotten. Solution 1: In the visual below, we can observe a memory retention graph that depicts the percentage of information remembered after each passing day before undergoing review. https://preview.redd.it/h14jaepp925b1.png?width=1347&format=png&auto=webp&s=796fd4d157d32f7be1d5b9e3351042f21001f27f If our vocabulary is not revisited periodically, as can be seen in the graph, it is destined to be forgotten. However, Anki, being a digital system, effectively tracks all of our vocabulary. It stores information about the cards we struggle to remember and those we effortlessly recall. Moreover, it alerts us to the cards we are about to forget just before we forget them. Anki proves to be a superior system compared to traditional cards. https://preview.redd.it/nts0i87s925b1.png?width=1611&format=png&auto=webp&s=e653837f13e8f2db7092aee221b29d1802d4a434 Issue 2.) Secondly, the relevance of the words in language learning books' word lists is not based on the frequency of the most common words in the language. Instead, these lists typically align with the topic to be covered in the next chapter. This lack of connection to the language's most frequently used words makes it an inefficient use of our time and motivation. Solution 2.) Thanks to the popularity of the Japanese language there are many pre-made anki decks that are specifically designed to contain the most common words in the Japanese language. Some honorable mentions are the decks bellow: Core 2.3k Deck (free of charge) - High Quality Cards for the Most Common ~1,970 Words from Visual Novels, Light Novels, Newspapers, Magazines, Blogs, Internet Forums and more (I personally use this one) (Get the deck here: https://anacreondjt.gitlab.io/docs/coredeck/) Refold JP1K (20 US Dollars) - Japanese Vocabulary Deck containing the most frequently used 1000 words (Get the deck here: https://refold.la/japanese/deck/) --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ##### System 2.) Grammar: There two popular Japanese grammar resources that are highly praised: ###### 1.Cure Dolly CURE DOLLY YOUTUBE CHANNEL : https://outu.be/pSvH9vH60Ig https://preview.redd.it/m91nirwfa25b1.jpg?width=1280&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=64796f026fd0006cd16a933ed10d38db0425124b Cure Dolly's YouTube playlist is highly acclaimed in the Japanese learning community for its logical and effective approach to teaching the language. Learners of Japanese find that things start to "click" when using Cure Dolly's materials. For our use we will be using the Cure Dolly Textbook that has been created by the fans of the channel, it contains all the lessons in text format and is my preferred of studying her lessons: Cure Dolly Textbook - All lessons as text.(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OwVPStFrXRjXvzmrFQUfXpEiPNspYq6JYxA4zDTlhPM/edit#) ###### 2.) Tae Kim https://preview.redd.it/2xi1ia7na25b1.png?width=200&format=png&auto=webp&s=d4c25de8dd16002db5bff1f184c76106745f4c38 Tae Kim's grammar guide has been a trusted and recommended free resource for Japanese language learners for a considerable time. It is widely regarded as an effective guide for understanding grammar. Tae Kim Webside: (https://guidetojapanese.org/learn/) ###### 3.) A Dictionary Of Japanese Grammar Series Very popular resource in the Japanese-Study community https://preview.redd.it/iv6cpxspa25b1.png?width=300&format=png&auto=webp&s=a3347386b7ed94c1baa686145a307d1cfec96136 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ##### System 3.) Immersion: Immersion is the key to acquiring a new language. By immersing in native content, you expose yourself to different words, phrases and grammar structures in various situations until you develop an intuitive understanding of their nuances. The amount of time you spend immersing yourself is the most important factor in determining how quickly you can learn your target language. Grammar and vocabulary study are merely supportive tools for immersion; only the time you spend immersing yourself will enable you to acquire the language. It's crucial to immerse yourself on a daily basis or at least very frequently, unlike traditional methods where you attend a class twice a week, which is utterly insufficient. Now that we understand the importance of immersing in native content we have to clear up a few more questions: a.) What to immerse in b.) How to get the most out of our immersion a.) What to immerse in: What to read as a beginner: It is possible to dive right into native content but that is quite challenging and intimidating for beginners. However, there are helpful resources available such as graded readers, which facilitate the initial entry into the language. Graded readers are designed with different levels, each level carefully curated to include a specific quantity of the most commonly used words in the language. This approach not only simplifies the learning process but also provides a more accessible and engaging way to progress in your language acquisition journey. An excellent example is the graded readers series by Olly Richards, which takes a different approach to language learning. Instead of relying on monotonous drills and exercises, the series utilizes captivating stories to engage and captivate the reader, making the language learning experience more enjoyable and compelling. https://preview.redd.it/945bsd4za25b1.png?width=1000&format=png&auto=webp&s=1d9237b3394884941a44f80303eb3a7223e002ab Story Learning (Olly Richard) - Learning languages through stories (https://storylearning.com/) Short Stories in Japanese by Olly Richards - Read for pleasure at your level, expand your vocabulary and learn Japanese the fun way with stories.(https://www.amazon.com/Short-Stories-Japanese-Intermediate-Learners/dp/1529377161/ref=sr_1_5?keywords=Short+Stories+in+Japanese+-+Michael+Emmerich&sr=8-5) Another great resource are Tadoku graded readers, which are the ones I use and are by far my favorite. https://preview.redd.it/a3quw345b25b1.png?width=1431&format=png&auto=webp&s=70e511c17f2e18eb7d70d16f2b5ed79f21efb890 Each level of the series consists of approximately 15 captivating stories, spanning over a diverse range of genres such as fairy tales, folklore, and intriguing Japanese horror stories. They also have samples and free graded readers you can check out. TADOKU READERS - Japanese graded readers for beginners to higher levels. (https://tadoku.org/japanese/en/graded-readers-en/) 1.) Learn Japanese Reddit Post - A huge collection of free to use Japanese graded readers separated by level. 2.) Penguin Readers Short Stories in Japanese - Stories with parallel English and Japanese texts. https://preview.redd.it/77a3thwab25b1.png?width=200&format=png&auto=webp&s=e8d696da51bf85cec4daea10d42e6c2a67ded3d8 3.) Japanese Stories for Language Learners - Bilingual Stories in Japanese and English. https://preview.redd.it/x1p0w4lcb25b1.png?width=196&format=png&auto=webp&s=f2f3d9add75dc0874093167f4748bfad758c8a02 What to read as an intermediate: As an intermediate language learner, you have the opportunity to explore actual native content that is not specifically tailored for Japanese students. It is ideal to choose content that aligns with your personal interests, as this enhances engagement. However, there is another valuable tool we can utilize to help us select books that match our skill level. Migaku is a website that offers a range of tools and resources for language learners. In particular, the Migaku Reader's stats function is useful for book selection. This function analyzes the words in a book, along with the words you have already learned in Anki, and provides a comprehension percentage estimate for your reading experience. Migaku Reader User Interface Readability statistics for the book selected in the previous image By leveraging these tools and resources, you can effectively find books that suit your skill level and maximize your reading comprehension. The Migaku tools are going to be one of our main resources during our studies and will be mentioned several times during this guide. Migaku.io - Migaku offers a diverse toolset for language learners, enabling progress from beginner to near-native proficiency. Enjoy favorite content on Netflix, YouTube, Kindle, books, comics, videos, and websites. (! NOTE: Migaku is going to have a rebrand in the next 1 or 2 months, it will have a completely new brand image and a much user friendly interface !) /----- Reminder: Now that we understand the importance of immersing in native content we have to clear up a few more questions: a. What to immerse in) b. How to get the most out of our immersion) /----- b.) How to get the most out of our immersion During language immersion, it is common to come across unfamiliar words that we feel the need to look up. However, it is essential for us to make a note of these unknown words as we encounter them. This is where the Migaku browser extension proves invaluable. By providing a pop-up dictionary, the extension seamlessly displays translations of the encountered words. https://preview.redd.it/6g1ckydyb25b1.png?width=930&format=png&auto=webp&s=58c47a4a3c2109318e2f519d2b30ae05e314e056 Moreover, it enables us to upload the unknown word along with the sentence it was used in and its translation. This uploaded data can then be used to create personalized flashcards for later study, ensuring comprehensive language learning. https://preview.redd.it/5kmlpovzb25b1.png?width=1897&format=png&auto=webp&s=2807a140a02c999a50ce199ce9fdb27669cff5a4 This process, often referred to as sentence mining, involves creating our own deck of flashcards. By incorporating these new words into personalized flashcards, we actively reinforce their meanings and usage, resulting in improved vocabulary retention and overall language proficiency. READİNG MANGA: Another great tool is Mokuro, a OCR system that turns the text on manga pages into selectable text so we can use the pop up dictionary on these pages. It is not a plug in play system though, it takes some tinkering to set up so i would not advice it for non-technical people. SET UP: (https://github.com/kha-white/mokuro) https://preview.redd.it/ahex27l4c25b1.png?width=1420&format=png&auto=webp&s=43ea1578bfab858efccbb4f3864c2344256064d8 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Boox Leaf 2, when properly set up with the tools mentioned in the guide, becomes a powerful language learning tool that:
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2023.06.09 23:32 DohnJunne 5 days in June - (Have I horribly misunderstood Google Maps?)
We're visiting Paris from 19 June to 24 June, and are aiming for a balance of wanders & museums/sights. I also love bookstores, antiques, and unique little shops, so would be grateful for your suggestions!
I'm terrible at geographical logistics, even with Google Maps, so are there ways I could be more efficiently planning routes? Have I packed in too much? Any can't-miss stops I should add or take out? Many thanks in advance for the review!
MONDAY 19 June
submitted by DohnJunne to ParisTravelGuide [link] [comments]
I'm terrible at geographical logistics, even with Google Maps, so are there ways I could be more efficiently planning routes? Have I packed in too much? Any can't-miss stops I should add or take out? Many thanks in advance for the review!
MONDAY 19 June
- Morning: Arrive at 8 AM, staying near Commerce metro stop
- Afternoon/Evening: Will be jetlagged, so loosely planned walk to Eiffel Tower, Arc du Triomphe (not planning to go up either), down Champs-Élysées, maybe picnic in Jardins de Tuileries before turning in early. (Stop by Librairie Galignani)
- Morning/Breakfast at Les Enfants Rouge Food Market
- 10:30 - 12:30 PM Paris Walks walking tour of le Marais
- Lunch at L'As du Fallafel
- Wandeshop le Marais (Merci, Buly), Maison Victor Hugo, possibly go to Picasso Museum
- Dinner at Verjus, rooftop drinks at Galeries Lafayette
- Breakfast/Morning: Ile de la Cite for Notre-dame (ext) and Sainte Chapelle
- Afternoon: Wandeshop Latin Quarter (Shakespeare & Co, Deyrolle), possibly Musee Rodin
- 4 - 7 PM: Paris Greeter Tour - Location TBD (The kindest greeter offered to take us on a walk to see live music for Fête de la musique, we'll have dinner with him)
- 10 PM: Worth it to go to the concert at Louvre or just walk along the Seine, check out some of the plazas? We love music, so we're thrilled we'll be here for the Fête
- Morning: Wandeshop around St. Germain (Marin Montagut, Deyrolle)
- Lunch: Pick up food at La Bon Marche, picnic at Luxembourg Gardens
- 2 - 4 PM: Guided tour of Louvre (Will the crowds be too intense? Might try to book Friday evening tour instead)
- Afternoon/Evening: Louvre on our own, walk around Tuileries if museumed out
- Dinner: Seulement Sea
- Possibly do evening river cruise?
- Morning: Worth it to check out Marché Paul Bert & Marché Serpette? Or another antique market?
- Morning/Afternoon: Sacré-Cœur, then walk around Montmartre (Place du Tertre, Café des Deux Moulins, Moulin Rouge, Musee de Montmartre)
- Lunch at Café Renoir in the Musee or Le Consulat
- 3 - 5 PM: Musee d’Orsay
- 8:30 PM: Dinner at Mokoloko (Bastille)
- Grab snacks/lunch for train, then 11:30 AM train to Avignon
2023.06.09 23:25 PepperAntique Wait, is this just GATE? (#76/?)
Previous
Writer's note: My bad about the past few days. A stomach bug and work got in the way. But all's good.
Now learn some tragic backstory, a bit of Earth info, and the status of everyone's favorite omen of misfortune.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The King was already conversing with Colonel Muhammed when James finally caught up with him in the command room. He jogged in at a brisk pace, but stopped when he saw the two of them talking on the small tablet in front of the King.
King Farrick cocked an eyebrow as he saw James. James just shrugged while mouthing "I know." and gesturing at his beard. The King shook his head as he looked back down at the tablet.
"We're just glad our people could be of assistance sir." The Colonel said. "Even if it only ended up being during the cool down after everything had already resolved."
"It is greatly appreciated Colonel." The King replied. "Seeing as the dungeon is currently erm... ruined... we'll have to let the last few of your people there out. Though they'll still be restricted in their movements." He added. The Colonel nodded, as if she'd expected as much. "As for the weapons." He continued. "Well," He sighed deeply. "I look forward to the.... paperwork.... regarding its use in necessary situations."
Colonel Muhammed let out a quick snort. "I'll see if I can get em to keep it short and sweet." She said.
The King motioned for James, who walked over. "Captain Choi is back earlier than expected, as I'm sure you know." He said as James got next to him and he turned the tablet so its camera caught James too. "I'll let you have him for a bit."
And just like that James was looking at his commanding officer while sporting a neon pink beard.
"Evening ma'am." He said with his cheesiest smile.
Muhammmed's eyes glazed over as she saw the ridiculous facial hair.
"Do I even want to know?" She asked.
"Nope." James replied honestly. "But I made friends during my trip." Then he shook his hand in a so-so gesture. "Well... one of em might just be an...." Then he rethought his standing with the Vatrian Emperor, Vateris. He also hadn't talked with command about his personal vendetta against the so-called gods. "Look. I didn't end up in prison or dead. And things went mostly well."
And suddenly a very grainy, sand-coated, hand was holding James's. He did what he could not to jump with surprise.
"By the way. Meet Glag!" He said excitedly as he panned the camera down to the rock monster's face. Glag looked at the screen with wide, amazed, eyes. James was surprised to see that Glag looked surprisingly dark, and just a little red. "He's a new companion!"
"What in the hell is that?" The Colonel asked as she peered at the screen on her end.
"Glaaaaag." Glag replied.
"Introductions done." James said. "So, what's the deal with the Zootopia duo?"
------------------------------
"Okay. It was weird at the store." Samantha said as she looked around. "But this is just plain strange."
Around them the restaurant was empty. The bistro Fletcher had brought her to, The Blue Tree, was a ghost town. A few of the staff stood at the greeting booth on the other side of the room. But other than that it was completely deserted. It was so quiet that they could hear the kitchen staff working prep in the back, for what had to be ONLY their food.
"Admittedly I think they took this a bit too far." Fletcher said abashedly as he peeked at the small menu. "This can't be cheap for the hospital, or government or whoever is funding the rehabilitation program."
There was an awkward silence for a few moments as they both tried to think of what to say. Neither of them would admit it, but it had been a while since either of them had dated.
And neither of them had ever dated in THIS particular scenario.
"So... how long have you been a lawyer?" She asked hesitantly.
"Um... about... eight years now?" He said uncertainly as he tried to do math in his head. "Close to nine. How bout you? How long were you in the Army before um.... well. You know."
She nodded. She was getting a lot better about acknowledging what had happened. But it was still a sore spot.
"I was about half way through my second term. So about six years." She answered, even though she was certain he'd probably read that in her file at some point. "Wasn't gonna reenlist again though."
"No plans to make it a career?" He asked.
"No." She said with a shake of her head. "No I intended to get out and get certified as a ration enforcement officer once I was done."
"Ration enforcement?" He said with raised eyebrows. "That's a dangerous job. Even compared to being an MP. Planning on staying near your family?"
She chuckled. "Yeah." She admitted. "My fathers shop is small and usually gets shunted by the bigger ones in the area. Wanted to stick around and keep the queues in order so it didn't happen."
"Ah. Makes sense." He responded as one of the wait staff came over.
A few minutes later, and after Fletcher had ensured that they'd been warned about Samantha's new dietary difficulties, the young woman departed with a smile and promise that their drinks and appetizers would be out in just a few minutes.
"And what got you into law?" She asked once they were alone again.
"My wife." He said, causing her to spit out the small sip of water she'd taken after asking the question. He smiled and there was a pain there. "Don't worry." He said. "I'm not married anymore."
"Divorced?" She asked, trying to figure out what was happening now.
Fletcher's mouth opened for a moment as he tried to think for a second. Did he really wanna have THIS talk on, what was hopefully a first, date. "Widower." He said softly.
And just like that she was thrown off balance again.
"I'-I'm so sorry." She said hastily. "I didn't know."
He held his hands up in warding. "It's fine." He said reassuringly. "It's been.... almost a decade now. I'm... I'm okay."
There was another awkward silence, though this time NOT because neither of them had anything to say.
Fletcher spoke first.
"She was a Paramedic." He said. "She was helping with some humanitarian work overseas and um... She got sick from some of the fallout." He nodded as he took a deep breath. "The organization she worked for was uh.... less than honorable about helping her get cared for afterwords. I started reading up on as many laws and regulations as I could to help her fight for it. But uh.... too little too late." Then he fake-smiled. "But I found out I was good at understanding legal jargon so I uh.... found my calling. I guess. Retooled my college classes and the rest is history."
"That's awful." She said quietly, not knowing what else to say given what she'd just heard.
"It was, yeah." He agreed. "But uh... thanks to that I've been able to help a lot of people who've been screwed by similar situations. So... I don't know. Guess that's something."
She smiled too. "Well you helped me." She said. "Didn't expect the ARMY of all organizations to back down from some legalese."
He pointed out at one of the windows, at the people outside walking about. Across the street a few teenagers were watching as one of them tried to levitate. The kid rose about a foot or so before beginning to wobble and then flipping over and falling on his face. The other two fell out laughing and jeering as he picked himself up.
"Between the two packs that split off and headed north and south, and all the people that have started to have ACTUAL magic powers." He said with a shrug. "I think they just have bigger fish to fry."
"Your appetizers and drinks." The server said, startling both of them.
"Ah." Fletcher said with a genuine smile this time. "I think you're gonna like the crab sliders here. They actually use REAL crab."
Her eyes widened. Real crab was rare nowadays. Then she looked at the server, who was nodding. "They closed this place and you guys serve REAL crab?" She asked.
"Sure do." The server replied with a smile. "We're one of the few restaurants in the city that gets any.
"God you weren't kidding." Samantha said as she turned back to Fletcher. "It must have cost a fortune to close a place like this for a night."
"I told you." He said jokingly with a grin.
She slumped, a little embarrassed at everything that had to have gone into this. She didn't deserve all this.
"So we'd better make the most of it before the hospital's finance department catches on." He said as he raised his glass of wine in a toast. "Again, assuming this isn't government funded. Which... it probably is."
Samantha lifted the large stein of light ale and, as gently as she could, clinked it against his glass.
"Enjoy." The server said as she nodded and stepped back.
And just like that the tone of the conversation lightened, and the rest of dinner was much more enjoyable.
--------------------------
Vickers awoke with a gasp.
Everything hurt.
He'd been beaten up pretty badly before. Had even been way too close to explosions a few times and spent weeks in the hospital recovering afterword to make sure he didn't have any unseen injuries. Then there was the time some turbulence had caused him to botch a wet insertion from a helicopter that had already been almost at the max height for a dive.
Those had all had him SORE for weeks.
This was different.
He felt both hot and cold at the same time. And not just his skin, but his entire body, inside and out, felt like they were infused with IcyHot.
And try as he might, he couldn't see, and everything was muted.
"He's awake." Someone said from outside of him. "Fetch the Archmage and master Farstorm."
"Whe-" He tried to say. But his voice was horse, and cracked as he tried to wheeze out the question. "Where?" He said weakly after struggling to swallow with a mouth that was drier than it had ever been before.
Someone touched him on the chest, and even though the touch was light and delicate he groaned in pain as every nerve in the area screamed.
And even in that excruciating moment, the part of his brain that nobody could ever fully get rid of, no matter how much training they underwent, joked.
So this is what Choi's life is like. It said sarcastically. Running through life like a marshmallow that got dropped in a camp fire every few months. Tough little fucker.
"Calm down Mister Vickers." One of those muted voices, that he thought sounded familiar, said. "We only woke you up so the Archmage could ask a few questions. We'll have you back under in a minute. Let me give you something for the pain."
"Not until the lead healer has okayed it." Another voice said somewhat harshly. "We don't even know how your Earth medicine will affect his body now."
"I do." The first voice replied. "I've used this stuff on were-people before. It works just fine. I just have to up the dosage. And Shrend knows it." The first voice, which he now faintly recognized as Choi's mom, said.
There was a pinch in the middle of a bloom of fire on Vickers' throat as a needle was pressed into one of the veins there.
And suddenly the pain, and everything else for that matter, seemed to drop away.
"Thassss..." He began. "Thasssalot... bedder."
"Shhhh." Mrs. Choi said as he felt, faintly, her touching his head. "I'm gonna take off some of your bandages so you can hear and see." She finished as his hearing cleared. "Plus we need to check your eyes and ears anyways."
A moment later Vickers' eyes opened and he was surrounded by a swirling mix of green and amber light. It was blurry, though he was mostly just happy he had any sight at all.
"Still cloudy." Mrs. Choi said as she pried his eyes open ever so slightly and looked inside. She as about to check his ears when the door opened.
Vickers turned his head with a slowness that was not intentional.
"Chief Vickers." Said the old mage who usually spoke so slowly, and looked so frail. But he didn't look or sound anything of the such at the moment as he pulled up a chair and sat where he could look at Vickers.
"Thaassss....me." He said as his head swam with whatever Mrs. Choi had given him. Probably Ketamine or something.
"I know you're in a lot of pain right now." The old mage said. "But we need to know what you saw. What was on the other side of that door before the Elemental manifested?"
submitted by PepperAntique to GATEhouse [link] [comments]
Writer's note: My bad about the past few days. A stomach bug and work got in the way. But all's good.
Now learn some tragic backstory, a bit of Earth info, and the status of everyone's favorite omen of misfortune.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The King was already conversing with Colonel Muhammed when James finally caught up with him in the command room. He jogged in at a brisk pace, but stopped when he saw the two of them talking on the small tablet in front of the King.
King Farrick cocked an eyebrow as he saw James. James just shrugged while mouthing "I know." and gesturing at his beard. The King shook his head as he looked back down at the tablet.
"We're just glad our people could be of assistance sir." The Colonel said. "Even if it only ended up being during the cool down after everything had already resolved."
"It is greatly appreciated Colonel." The King replied. "Seeing as the dungeon is currently erm... ruined... we'll have to let the last few of your people there out. Though they'll still be restricted in their movements." He added. The Colonel nodded, as if she'd expected as much. "As for the weapons." He continued. "Well," He sighed deeply. "I look forward to the.... paperwork.... regarding its use in necessary situations."
Colonel Muhammed let out a quick snort. "I'll see if I can get em to keep it short and sweet." She said.
The King motioned for James, who walked over. "Captain Choi is back earlier than expected, as I'm sure you know." He said as James got next to him and he turned the tablet so its camera caught James too. "I'll let you have him for a bit."
And just like that James was looking at his commanding officer while sporting a neon pink beard.
"Evening ma'am." He said with his cheesiest smile.
Muhammmed's eyes glazed over as she saw the ridiculous facial hair.
"Do I even want to know?" She asked.
"Nope." James replied honestly. "But I made friends during my trip." Then he shook his hand in a so-so gesture. "Well... one of em might just be an...." Then he rethought his standing with the Vatrian Emperor, Vateris. He also hadn't talked with command about his personal vendetta against the so-called gods. "Look. I didn't end up in prison or dead. And things went mostly well."
And suddenly a very grainy, sand-coated, hand was holding James's. He did what he could not to jump with surprise.
"By the way. Meet Glag!" He said excitedly as he panned the camera down to the rock monster's face. Glag looked at the screen with wide, amazed, eyes. James was surprised to see that Glag looked surprisingly dark, and just a little red. "He's a new companion!"
"What in the hell is that?" The Colonel asked as she peered at the screen on her end.
"Glaaaaag." Glag replied.
"Introductions done." James said. "So, what's the deal with the Zootopia duo?"
------------------------------
"Okay. It was weird at the store." Samantha said as she looked around. "But this is just plain strange."
Around them the restaurant was empty. The bistro Fletcher had brought her to, The Blue Tree, was a ghost town. A few of the staff stood at the greeting booth on the other side of the room. But other than that it was completely deserted. It was so quiet that they could hear the kitchen staff working prep in the back, for what had to be ONLY their food.
"Admittedly I think they took this a bit too far." Fletcher said abashedly as he peeked at the small menu. "This can't be cheap for the hospital, or government or whoever is funding the rehabilitation program."
There was an awkward silence for a few moments as they both tried to think of what to say. Neither of them would admit it, but it had been a while since either of them had dated.
And neither of them had ever dated in THIS particular scenario.
"So... how long have you been a lawyer?" She asked hesitantly.
"Um... about... eight years now?" He said uncertainly as he tried to do math in his head. "Close to nine. How bout you? How long were you in the Army before um.... well. You know."
She nodded. She was getting a lot better about acknowledging what had happened. But it was still a sore spot.
"I was about half way through my second term. So about six years." She answered, even though she was certain he'd probably read that in her file at some point. "Wasn't gonna reenlist again though."
"No plans to make it a career?" He asked.
"No." She said with a shake of her head. "No I intended to get out and get certified as a ration enforcement officer once I was done."
"Ration enforcement?" He said with raised eyebrows. "That's a dangerous job. Even compared to being an MP. Planning on staying near your family?"
She chuckled. "Yeah." She admitted. "My fathers shop is small and usually gets shunted by the bigger ones in the area. Wanted to stick around and keep the queues in order so it didn't happen."
"Ah. Makes sense." He responded as one of the wait staff came over.
A few minutes later, and after Fletcher had ensured that they'd been warned about Samantha's new dietary difficulties, the young woman departed with a smile and promise that their drinks and appetizers would be out in just a few minutes.
"And what got you into law?" She asked once they were alone again.
"My wife." He said, causing her to spit out the small sip of water she'd taken after asking the question. He smiled and there was a pain there. "Don't worry." He said. "I'm not married anymore."
"Divorced?" She asked, trying to figure out what was happening now.
Fletcher's mouth opened for a moment as he tried to think for a second. Did he really wanna have THIS talk on, what was hopefully a first, date. "Widower." He said softly.
And just like that she was thrown off balance again.
"I'-I'm so sorry." She said hastily. "I didn't know."
He held his hands up in warding. "It's fine." He said reassuringly. "It's been.... almost a decade now. I'm... I'm okay."
There was another awkward silence, though this time NOT because neither of them had anything to say.
Fletcher spoke first.
"She was a Paramedic." He said. "She was helping with some humanitarian work overseas and um... She got sick from some of the fallout." He nodded as he took a deep breath. "The organization she worked for was uh.... less than honorable about helping her get cared for afterwords. I started reading up on as many laws and regulations as I could to help her fight for it. But uh.... too little too late." Then he fake-smiled. "But I found out I was good at understanding legal jargon so I uh.... found my calling. I guess. Retooled my college classes and the rest is history."
"That's awful." She said quietly, not knowing what else to say given what she'd just heard.
"It was, yeah." He agreed. "But uh... thanks to that I've been able to help a lot of people who've been screwed by similar situations. So... I don't know. Guess that's something."
She smiled too. "Well you helped me." She said. "Didn't expect the ARMY of all organizations to back down from some legalese."
He pointed out at one of the windows, at the people outside walking about. Across the street a few teenagers were watching as one of them tried to levitate. The kid rose about a foot or so before beginning to wobble and then flipping over and falling on his face. The other two fell out laughing and jeering as he picked himself up.
"Between the two packs that split off and headed north and south, and all the people that have started to have ACTUAL magic powers." He said with a shrug. "I think they just have bigger fish to fry."
"Your appetizers and drinks." The server said, startling both of them.
"Ah." Fletcher said with a genuine smile this time. "I think you're gonna like the crab sliders here. They actually use REAL crab."
Her eyes widened. Real crab was rare nowadays. Then she looked at the server, who was nodding. "They closed this place and you guys serve REAL crab?" She asked.
"Sure do." The server replied with a smile. "We're one of the few restaurants in the city that gets any.
"God you weren't kidding." Samantha said as she turned back to Fletcher. "It must have cost a fortune to close a place like this for a night."
"I told you." He said jokingly with a grin.
She slumped, a little embarrassed at everything that had to have gone into this. She didn't deserve all this.
"So we'd better make the most of it before the hospital's finance department catches on." He said as he raised his glass of wine in a toast. "Again, assuming this isn't government funded. Which... it probably is."
Samantha lifted the large stein of light ale and, as gently as she could, clinked it against his glass.
"Enjoy." The server said as she nodded and stepped back.
And just like that the tone of the conversation lightened, and the rest of dinner was much more enjoyable.
--------------------------
Vickers awoke with a gasp.
Everything hurt.
He'd been beaten up pretty badly before. Had even been way too close to explosions a few times and spent weeks in the hospital recovering afterword to make sure he didn't have any unseen injuries. Then there was the time some turbulence had caused him to botch a wet insertion from a helicopter that had already been almost at the max height for a dive.
Those had all had him SORE for weeks.
This was different.
He felt both hot and cold at the same time. And not just his skin, but his entire body, inside and out, felt like they were infused with IcyHot.
And try as he might, he couldn't see, and everything was muted.
"He's awake." Someone said from outside of him. "Fetch the Archmage and master Farstorm."
"Whe-" He tried to say. But his voice was horse, and cracked as he tried to wheeze out the question. "Where?" He said weakly after struggling to swallow with a mouth that was drier than it had ever been before.
Someone touched him on the chest, and even though the touch was light and delicate he groaned in pain as every nerve in the area screamed.
And even in that excruciating moment, the part of his brain that nobody could ever fully get rid of, no matter how much training they underwent, joked.
So this is what Choi's life is like. It said sarcastically. Running through life like a marshmallow that got dropped in a camp fire every few months. Tough little fucker.
"Calm down Mister Vickers." One of those muted voices, that he thought sounded familiar, said. "We only woke you up so the Archmage could ask a few questions. We'll have you back under in a minute. Let me give you something for the pain."
"Not until the lead healer has okayed it." Another voice said somewhat harshly. "We don't even know how your Earth medicine will affect his body now."
"I do." The first voice replied. "I've used this stuff on were-people before. It works just fine. I just have to up the dosage. And Shrend knows it." The first voice, which he now faintly recognized as Choi's mom, said.
There was a pinch in the middle of a bloom of fire on Vickers' throat as a needle was pressed into one of the veins there.
And suddenly the pain, and everything else for that matter, seemed to drop away.
"Thassss..." He began. "Thasssalot... bedder."
"Shhhh." Mrs. Choi said as he felt, faintly, her touching his head. "I'm gonna take off some of your bandages so you can hear and see." She finished as his hearing cleared. "Plus we need to check your eyes and ears anyways."
A moment later Vickers' eyes opened and he was surrounded by a swirling mix of green and amber light. It was blurry, though he was mostly just happy he had any sight at all.
"Still cloudy." Mrs. Choi said as she pried his eyes open ever so slightly and looked inside. She as about to check his ears when the door opened.
Vickers turned his head with a slowness that was not intentional.
"Chief Vickers." Said the old mage who usually spoke so slowly, and looked so frail. But he didn't look or sound anything of the such at the moment as he pulled up a chair and sat where he could look at Vickers.
"Thaassss....me." He said as his head swam with whatever Mrs. Choi had given him. Probably Ketamine or something.
"I know you're in a lot of pain right now." The old mage said. "But we need to know what you saw. What was on the other side of that door before the Elemental manifested?"
2023.06.09 23:20 RictusSmile Obama all about those Big Macs and a twenty piece!
 | submitted by RictusSmile to WhitePeopleTwitter [link] [comments] |
2023.06.09 23:14 DonJuan247365 Anyone know the age of this bottle?
 | Interested I knowing when this was bottled. . submitted by DonJuan247365 to chartreuse [link] [comments] |
2023.06.09 23:10 Aesop_Rocks [SETLIST THREAD] Dead & Company, Wrigley Field, Chicago, IL, 6/9/2023
Weather : Sky was yellow and the sun was blue
Temperature : Stays 72 come shine or rain
Days Since Last El Paso : 332
Days Since Mickey Last Licked the Beam : 361
SET 1 [6:40 - 7:56 CT]
Playing in the Band (V1) >
Deal >
Tennessee Jed
Hurts Me Too
Ramble on Rose
Brown Eyed Women
Crazy Fingers1 >
Dancing in the Streets
SET 2 [8:35 - 9:23 CT]
Sugaree>
Estimated Prophet >
The Other One >
Terrapin Station >
Drums >
Space >
Stella Blue >
Sugar Magnolia >
Scarlet Begonias >
Sunshine Daydream
ENCORE [9:26 - 10:33 CT]
US Blues
KEY
1 - Tour bust out
Links
Video Stream
Set 1 Preview
Dead AiSet 2 Preview
Poster
Pre-Show Tunes to Check Out
Lettuce Witches Stew 5/2/17 (Part 1 of 4) New Orleans, LA @ Blue Nile
Oteil & Friends - Live From The Capitol Theatre 03/12/2022
David Gilmour HD - Remember That Night - Full Concert, Royal Albert Hall 2006
Goose ft. Trey Anastasio - 6/25/22 Radio City Music Hall, New York, NY - Sorry not sorry, this was so fucking cool to see in person!!
I got a few rules in this here setlist thread:
submitted by Aesop_Rocks to gratefuldead [link] [comments]
Temperature : Stays 72 come shine or rain
Days Since Last El Paso : 332
Days Since Mickey Last Licked the Beam : 361
Playing in the Band (V1) >
Deal >
Tennessee Jed
Hurts Me Too
Ramble on Rose
Brown Eyed Women
Crazy Fingers1 >
Dancing in the Streets
SET 2 [8:35 - 9:23 CT]
Sugaree>
Estimated Prophet >
The Other One >
Terrapin Station >
Drums >
Space >
Stella Blue >
Sugar Magnolia >
Scarlet Begonias >
Sunshine Daydream
ENCORE [9:26 - 10:33 CT]
US Blues
KEY
1 - Tour bust out
Video Stream
Set 1 Preview
Dead AiSet 2 Preview
Poster
Lettuce Witches Stew 5/2/17 (Part 1 of 4) New Orleans, LA @ Blue Nile
Oteil & Friends - Live From The Capitol Theatre 03/12/2022
David Gilmour HD - Remember That Night - Full Concert, Royal Albert Hall 2006
Goose ft. Trey Anastasio - 6/25/22 Radio City Music Hall, New York, NY - Sorry not sorry, this was so fucking cool to see in person!!
- Be Kind. You don’t have to agree with everybody, but there’s no reason to be rude.
- Please don’t skunk up the thread by asking for or sharing miracles. If you choose to share links, keep them in the DMs/PMs. You just gotta poke around.
- Please don’t award this post. While I appreciate the thought, your money is better spent on a good cause. A cause near and dear to my heart is Rainbow Railroad
- No spoilers! If you caught soundcheck or a flash of the setlist, please spoiler tag it or do not mention songs by name!
- If someone says the word "tempo" we all have to take a shot (or hit, or drink of your choosing (alcoholic or non))
2023.06.09 23:09 PepperAntique Wait, is this just GATE? (376/?)
Previous / First
Writer's note: My bad about the past few days. A stomach bug and work got in the way. But all's good.
Now learn some tragic backstory, a bit of Earth info, and the status of everyone's favorite omen of misfortune.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The King was already conversing with Colonel Muhammed when James finally caught up with him in the command room. He jogged in at a brisk pace, but stopped when he saw the two of them talking on the small tablet in front of the King.
King Farrick cocked an eyebrow as he saw James. James just shrugged while mouthing "I know." and gesturing at his beard. The King shook his head as he looked back down at the tablet.
"We're just glad our people could be of assistance sir." The Colonel said. "Even if it only ended up being during the cool down after everything had already resolved."
"It is greatly appreciated Colonel." The King replied. "Seeing as the dungeon is currently erm... ruined... we'll have to let the last few of your people there out. Though they'll still be restricted in their movements." He added. The Colonel nodded, as if she'd expected as much. "As for the weapons." He continued. "Well," He sighed deeply. "I look forward to the.... paperwork.... regarding its use in necessary situations."
Colonel Muhammed let out a quick snort. "I'll see if I can get em to keep it short and sweet." She said.
The King motioned for James, who walked over. "Captain Choi is back earlier than expected, as I'm sure you know." He said as James got next to him and he turned the tablet so its camera caught James too. "I'll let you have him for a bit."
And just like that James was looking at his commanding officer while sporting a neon pink beard.
"Evening ma'am." He said with his cheesiest smile.
Muhammmed's eyes glazed over as she saw the ridiculous facial hair.
"Do I even want to know?" She asked.
"Nope." James replied honestly. "But I made friends during my trip." Then he shook his hand in a so-so gesture. "Well... one of em might just be an...." Then he rethought his standing with the Vatrian Emperor, Vateris. He also hadn't talked with command about his personal vendetta against the so-called gods. "Look. I didn't end up in prison or dead. And things went mostly well."
And suddenly a very grainy, sand-coated, hand was holding James's. He did what he could not to jump with surprise.
"By the way. Meet Glag!" He said excitedly as he panned the camera down to the rock monster's face. Glag looked at the screen with wide, amazed, eyes. James was surprised to see that Glag looked surprisingly dark, and just a little red. "He's a new companion!"
"What in the hell is that?" The Colonel asked as she peered at the screen on her end.
"Glaaaaag." Glag replied.
"Introductions done." James said. "So, what's the deal with the Zootopia duo?"
------------------------------
"Okay. It was weird at the store." Samantha said as she looked around. "But this is just plain strange."
Around them the restaurant was empty. The bistro Fletcher had brought her to, The Blue Tree, was a ghost town. A few of the staff stood at the greeting booth on the other side of the room. But other than that it was completely deserted. It was so quiet that they could hear the kitchen staff working prep in the back, for what had to be ONLY their food.
"Admittedly I think they took this a bit too far." Fletcher said abashedly as he peeked at the small menu. "This can't be cheap for the hospital, or government or whoever is funding the rehabilitation program."
There was an awkward silence for a few moments as they both tried to think of what to say. Neither of them would admit it, but it had been a while since either of them had dated.
And neither of them had ever dated in THIS particular scenario.
"So... how long have you been a lawyer?" She asked hesitantly.
"Um... about... eight years now?" He said uncertainly as he tried to do math in his head. "Close to nine. How bout you? How long were you in the Army before um.... well. You know."
She nodded. She was getting a lot better about acknowledging what had happened. But it was still a sore spot.
"I was about half way through my second term. So about six years." She answered, even though she was certain he'd probably read that in her file at some point. "Wasn't gonna reenlist again though."
"No plans to make it a career?" He asked.
"No." She said with a shake of her head. "No I intended to get out and get certified as a ration enforcement officer once I was done."
"Ration enforcement?" He said with raised eyebrows. "That's a dangerous job. Even compared to being an MP. Planning on staying near your family?"
She chuckled. "Yeah." She admitted. "My fathers shop is small and usually gets shunted by the bigger ones in the area. Wanted to stick around and keep the queues in order so it didn't happen."
"Ah. Makes sense." He responded as one of the wait staff came over.
A few minutes later, and after Fletcher had ensured that they'd been warned about Samantha's new dietary difficulties, the young woman departed with a smile and promise that their drinks and appetizers would be out in just a few minutes.
"And what got you into law?" She asked once they were alone again.
"My wife." He said, causing her to spit out the small sip of water she'd taken after asking the question. He smiled and there was a pain there. "Don't worry." He said. "I'm not married anymore."
"Divorced?" She asked, trying to figure out what was happening now.
Fletcher's mouth opened for a moment as he tried to think for a second. Did he really wanna have THIS talk on, what was hopefully a first, date. "Widower." He said softly.
And just like that she was thrown off balance again.
"I'-I'm so sorry." She said hastily. "I didn't know."
He held his hands up in warding. "It's fine." He said reassuringly. "It's been.... almost a decade now. I'm... I'm okay."
There was another awkward silence, though this time NOT because neither of them had anything to say.
Fletcher spoke first.
"She was a Paramedic." He said. "She was helping with some humanitarian work overseas and um... She got sick from some of the fallout." He nodded as he took a deep breath. "The organization she worked for was uh.... less than honorable about helping her get cared for afterwords. I started reading up on as many laws and regulations as I could to help her fight for it. But uh.... too little too late." Then he fake-smiled. "But I found out I was good at understanding legal jargon so I uh.... found my calling. I guess. Retooled my college classes and the rest is history."
"That's awful." She said quietly, not knowing what else to say given what she'd just heard.
"It was, yeah." He agreed. "But uh... thanks to that I've been able to help a lot of people who've been screwed by similar situations. So... I don't know. Guess that's something."
She smiled too. "Well you helped me." She said. "Didn't expect the ARMY of all organizations to back down from some legalese."
He pointed out at one of the windows, at the people outside walking about. Across the street a few teenagers were watching as one of them tried to levitate. The kid rose about a foot or so before beginning to wobble and then flipping over and falling on his face. The other two fell out laughing and jeering as he picked himself up.
"Between the two packs that split off and headed north and south, and all the people that have started to have ACTUAL magic powers." He said with a shrug. "I think they just have bigger fish to fry."
"Your appetizers and drinks." The server said, startling both of them.
"Ah." Fletcher said with a genuine smile this time. "I think you're gonna like the crab sliders here. They actually use REAL crab."
Her eyes widened. Real crab was rare nowadays. Then she looked at the server, who was nodding. "They closed this place and you guys serve REAL crab?" She asked.
"Sure do." The server replied with a smile. "We're one of the few restaurants in the city that gets any.
"God you weren't kidding." Samantha said as she turned back to Fletcher. "It must have cost a fortune to close a place like this for a night."
"I told you." He said jokingly with a grin.
She slumped, a little embarrassed at everything that had to have gone into this. She didn't deserve all this.
"So we'd better make the most of it before the hospital's finance department catches on." He said as he raised his glass of wine in a toast. "Again, assuming this isn't government funded. Which... it probably is."
Samantha lifted the large stein of light ale and, as gently as she could, clinked it against his glass.
"Enjoy." The server said as she nodded and stepped back.
And just like that the tone of the conversation lightened, and the rest of dinner was much more enjoyable.
--------------------------
Vickers awoke with a gasp.
Everything hurt.
He'd been beaten up pretty badly before. Had even been way too close to explosions a few times and spent weeks in the hospital recovering afterword to make sure he didn't have any unseen injuries. Then there was the time some turbulence had caused him to botch a wet insertion from a helicopter that had already been almost at the max height for a dive.
Those had all had him SORE for weeks.
This was different.
He felt both hot and cold at the same time. And not just his skin, but his entire body, inside and out, felt like they were infused with IcyHot.
And try as he might, he couldn't see, and everything was muted.
"He's awake." Someone said from outside of him. "Fetch the Archmage and master Farstorm."
"Whe-" He tried to say. But his voice was horse, and cracked as he tried to wheeze out the question. "Where?" He said weakly after struggling to swallow with a mouth that was drier than it had ever been before.
Someone touched him on the chest, and even though the touch was light and delicate he groaned in pain as every nerve in the area screamed.
And even in that excruciating moment, the part of his brain that nobody could ever fully get rid of, no matter how much training they underwent, joked.
So this is what Choi's life is like. It said sarcastically. Running through life like a marshmallow that got dropped in a camp fire every few months. Tough little fucker.
"Calm down Mister Vickers." One of those muted voices, that he thought sounded familiar, said. "We only woke you up so the Archmage could ask a few questions. We'll have you back under in a minute. Let me give you something for the pain."
"Not until the lead healer has okayed it." Another voice said somewhat harshly. "We don't even know how your Earth medicine will affect his body now."
"I do." The first voice replied. "I've used this stuff on were-people before. It works just fine. I just have to up the dosage. And Shrend knows it." The first voice, which he now faintly recognized as Choi's mom, said.
There was a pinch in the middle of a bloom of fire on Vickers' throat as a needle was pressed into one of the veins there.
And suddenly the pain, and everything else for that matter, seemed to drop away.
"Thassss..." He began. "Thasssalot... bedder."
"Shhhh." Mrs. Choi said as he felt, faintly, her touching his head. "I'm gonna take off some of your bandages so you can hear and see." She finished as his hearing cleared. "Plus we need to check your eyes and ears anyways."
A moment later Vickers' eyes opened and he was surrounded by a swirling mix of green and amber light. It was blurry, though he was mostly just happy he had any sight at all.
"Still cloudy." Mrs. Choi said as she pried his eyes open ever so slightly and looked inside. She as about to check his ears when the door opened.
Vickers turned his head with a slowness that was not intentional.
"Chief Vickers." Said the old mage who usually spoke so slowly, and looked so frail. But he didn't look or sound anything of the such at the moment as he pulled up a chair and sat where he could look at Vickers.
"Thaassss....me." He said as his head swam with whatever Mrs. Choi had given him. Probably Ketamine or something.
"I know you're in a lot of pain right now." The old mage said. "But we need to know what you saw. What was on the other side of that door before the Elemental manifested?"
submitted by PepperAntique to HFY [link] [comments]
Writer's note: My bad about the past few days. A stomach bug and work got in the way. But all's good.
Now learn some tragic backstory, a bit of Earth info, and the status of everyone's favorite omen of misfortune.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The King was already conversing with Colonel Muhammed when James finally caught up with him in the command room. He jogged in at a brisk pace, but stopped when he saw the two of them talking on the small tablet in front of the King.
King Farrick cocked an eyebrow as he saw James. James just shrugged while mouthing "I know." and gesturing at his beard. The King shook his head as he looked back down at the tablet.
"We're just glad our people could be of assistance sir." The Colonel said. "Even if it only ended up being during the cool down after everything had already resolved."
"It is greatly appreciated Colonel." The King replied. "Seeing as the dungeon is currently erm... ruined... we'll have to let the last few of your people there out. Though they'll still be restricted in their movements." He added. The Colonel nodded, as if she'd expected as much. "As for the weapons." He continued. "Well," He sighed deeply. "I look forward to the.... paperwork.... regarding its use in necessary situations."
Colonel Muhammed let out a quick snort. "I'll see if I can get em to keep it short and sweet." She said.
The King motioned for James, who walked over. "Captain Choi is back earlier than expected, as I'm sure you know." He said as James got next to him and he turned the tablet so its camera caught James too. "I'll let you have him for a bit."
And just like that James was looking at his commanding officer while sporting a neon pink beard.
"Evening ma'am." He said with his cheesiest smile.
Muhammmed's eyes glazed over as she saw the ridiculous facial hair.
"Do I even want to know?" She asked.
"Nope." James replied honestly. "But I made friends during my trip." Then he shook his hand in a so-so gesture. "Well... one of em might just be an...." Then he rethought his standing with the Vatrian Emperor, Vateris. He also hadn't talked with command about his personal vendetta against the so-called gods. "Look. I didn't end up in prison or dead. And things went mostly well."
And suddenly a very grainy, sand-coated, hand was holding James's. He did what he could not to jump with surprise.
"By the way. Meet Glag!" He said excitedly as he panned the camera down to the rock monster's face. Glag looked at the screen with wide, amazed, eyes. James was surprised to see that Glag looked surprisingly dark, and just a little red. "He's a new companion!"
"What in the hell is that?" The Colonel asked as she peered at the screen on her end.
"Glaaaaag." Glag replied.
"Introductions done." James said. "So, what's the deal with the Zootopia duo?"
------------------------------
"Okay. It was weird at the store." Samantha said as she looked around. "But this is just plain strange."
Around them the restaurant was empty. The bistro Fletcher had brought her to, The Blue Tree, was a ghost town. A few of the staff stood at the greeting booth on the other side of the room. But other than that it was completely deserted. It was so quiet that they could hear the kitchen staff working prep in the back, for what had to be ONLY their food.
"Admittedly I think they took this a bit too far." Fletcher said abashedly as he peeked at the small menu. "This can't be cheap for the hospital, or government or whoever is funding the rehabilitation program."
There was an awkward silence for a few moments as they both tried to think of what to say. Neither of them would admit it, but it had been a while since either of them had dated.
And neither of them had ever dated in THIS particular scenario.
"So... how long have you been a lawyer?" She asked hesitantly.
"Um... about... eight years now?" He said uncertainly as he tried to do math in his head. "Close to nine. How bout you? How long were you in the Army before um.... well. You know."
She nodded. She was getting a lot better about acknowledging what had happened. But it was still a sore spot.
"I was about half way through my second term. So about six years." She answered, even though she was certain he'd probably read that in her file at some point. "Wasn't gonna reenlist again though."
"No plans to make it a career?" He asked.
"No." She said with a shake of her head. "No I intended to get out and get certified as a ration enforcement officer once I was done."
"Ration enforcement?" He said with raised eyebrows. "That's a dangerous job. Even compared to being an MP. Planning on staying near your family?"
She chuckled. "Yeah." She admitted. "My fathers shop is small and usually gets shunted by the bigger ones in the area. Wanted to stick around and keep the queues in order so it didn't happen."
"Ah. Makes sense." He responded as one of the wait staff came over.
A few minutes later, and after Fletcher had ensured that they'd been warned about Samantha's new dietary difficulties, the young woman departed with a smile and promise that their drinks and appetizers would be out in just a few minutes.
"And what got you into law?" She asked once they were alone again.
"My wife." He said, causing her to spit out the small sip of water she'd taken after asking the question. He smiled and there was a pain there. "Don't worry." He said. "I'm not married anymore."
"Divorced?" She asked, trying to figure out what was happening now.
Fletcher's mouth opened for a moment as he tried to think for a second. Did he really wanna have THIS talk on, what was hopefully a first, date. "Widower." He said softly.
And just like that she was thrown off balance again.
"I'-I'm so sorry." She said hastily. "I didn't know."
He held his hands up in warding. "It's fine." He said reassuringly. "It's been.... almost a decade now. I'm... I'm okay."
There was another awkward silence, though this time NOT because neither of them had anything to say.
Fletcher spoke first.
"She was a Paramedic." He said. "She was helping with some humanitarian work overseas and um... She got sick from some of the fallout." He nodded as he took a deep breath. "The organization she worked for was uh.... less than honorable about helping her get cared for afterwords. I started reading up on as many laws and regulations as I could to help her fight for it. But uh.... too little too late." Then he fake-smiled. "But I found out I was good at understanding legal jargon so I uh.... found my calling. I guess. Retooled my college classes and the rest is history."
"That's awful." She said quietly, not knowing what else to say given what she'd just heard.
"It was, yeah." He agreed. "But uh... thanks to that I've been able to help a lot of people who've been screwed by similar situations. So... I don't know. Guess that's something."
She smiled too. "Well you helped me." She said. "Didn't expect the ARMY of all organizations to back down from some legalese."
He pointed out at one of the windows, at the people outside walking about. Across the street a few teenagers were watching as one of them tried to levitate. The kid rose about a foot or so before beginning to wobble and then flipping over and falling on his face. The other two fell out laughing and jeering as he picked himself up.
"Between the two packs that split off and headed north and south, and all the people that have started to have ACTUAL magic powers." He said with a shrug. "I think they just have bigger fish to fry."
"Your appetizers and drinks." The server said, startling both of them.
"Ah." Fletcher said with a genuine smile this time. "I think you're gonna like the crab sliders here. They actually use REAL crab."
Her eyes widened. Real crab was rare nowadays. Then she looked at the server, who was nodding. "They closed this place and you guys serve REAL crab?" She asked.
"Sure do." The server replied with a smile. "We're one of the few restaurants in the city that gets any.
"God you weren't kidding." Samantha said as she turned back to Fletcher. "It must have cost a fortune to close a place like this for a night."
"I told you." He said jokingly with a grin.
She slumped, a little embarrassed at everything that had to have gone into this. She didn't deserve all this.
"So we'd better make the most of it before the hospital's finance department catches on." He said as he raised his glass of wine in a toast. "Again, assuming this isn't government funded. Which... it probably is."
Samantha lifted the large stein of light ale and, as gently as she could, clinked it against his glass.
"Enjoy." The server said as she nodded and stepped back.
And just like that the tone of the conversation lightened, and the rest of dinner was much more enjoyable.
--------------------------
Vickers awoke with a gasp.
Everything hurt.
He'd been beaten up pretty badly before. Had even been way too close to explosions a few times and spent weeks in the hospital recovering afterword to make sure he didn't have any unseen injuries. Then there was the time some turbulence had caused him to botch a wet insertion from a helicopter that had already been almost at the max height for a dive.
Those had all had him SORE for weeks.
This was different.
He felt both hot and cold at the same time. And not just his skin, but his entire body, inside and out, felt like they were infused with IcyHot.
And try as he might, he couldn't see, and everything was muted.
"He's awake." Someone said from outside of him. "Fetch the Archmage and master Farstorm."
"Whe-" He tried to say. But his voice was horse, and cracked as he tried to wheeze out the question. "Where?" He said weakly after struggling to swallow with a mouth that was drier than it had ever been before.
Someone touched him on the chest, and even though the touch was light and delicate he groaned in pain as every nerve in the area screamed.
And even in that excruciating moment, the part of his brain that nobody could ever fully get rid of, no matter how much training they underwent, joked.
So this is what Choi's life is like. It said sarcastically. Running through life like a marshmallow that got dropped in a camp fire every few months. Tough little fucker.
"Calm down Mister Vickers." One of those muted voices, that he thought sounded familiar, said. "We only woke you up so the Archmage could ask a few questions. We'll have you back under in a minute. Let me give you something for the pain."
"Not until the lead healer has okayed it." Another voice said somewhat harshly. "We don't even know how your Earth medicine will affect his body now."
"I do." The first voice replied. "I've used this stuff on were-people before. It works just fine. I just have to up the dosage. And Shrend knows it." The first voice, which he now faintly recognized as Choi's mom, said.
There was a pinch in the middle of a bloom of fire on Vickers' throat as a needle was pressed into one of the veins there.
And suddenly the pain, and everything else for that matter, seemed to drop away.
"Thassss..." He began. "Thasssalot... bedder."
"Shhhh." Mrs. Choi said as he felt, faintly, her touching his head. "I'm gonna take off some of your bandages so you can hear and see." She finished as his hearing cleared. "Plus we need to check your eyes and ears anyways."
A moment later Vickers' eyes opened and he was surrounded by a swirling mix of green and amber light. It was blurry, though he was mostly just happy he had any sight at all.
"Still cloudy." Mrs. Choi said as she pried his eyes open ever so slightly and looked inside. She as about to check his ears when the door opened.
Vickers turned his head with a slowness that was not intentional.
"Chief Vickers." Said the old mage who usually spoke so slowly, and looked so frail. But he didn't look or sound anything of the such at the moment as he pulled up a chair and sat where he could look at Vickers.
"Thaassss....me." He said as his head swam with whatever Mrs. Choi had given him. Probably Ketamine or something.
"I know you're in a lot of pain right now." The old mage said. "But we need to know what you saw. What was on the other side of that door before the Elemental manifested?"
2023.06.09 23:04 Graysonation Hi, My Name Is Graysonation
And I miss a friend of mine. Or an ex friend? I'm not really sure.
His name is Chris. I met him a few years ago when he applied to work at the restaurant I managed. Like, the literal moment we met, we clicked. Same dark humor, same LGBT-forward identity, similar childhood baggage, and we just connected. I've only ever clicked like that with literally one other person in my entire life. And she's my hecking soulmate.
Chris was never my soulmate. Obviously. But we were tight. We tried new things together. Worked together. Hung out. Supported one another. He helped me figure out shit with my fiance when I was contemplating ending things. I helped him leave an abusive partner. We cooked and planned and got fucked up and laughed and loved and it was genuinely the best part of living in Kansas. STG.
I mean. It wasn't all sunshine and lollypops. Truth. We had some disagreements. I phrased things terribly a few times telling him to be tough in situations. He occasionally disregarded my feelings for his own. Both totally normal fuckups. Anf no relationship is perfect. It's hard being besties when one of you manages the other. And in effect, that started the downfall of our relationship. We made it work so unreasonably well.
In the end, I felt taken advantage of by Chris. I lost my job because of his ex and the shit that cunt started with my work and fiance. We had to relocate to a new state.l, and had bought a house and everything. And I still have a lot of anger about it. (Not just with Chris, my fiance made things so so much worse, dumbass.) But then things started spiralling. I took a lower paying job at the same time my fiance was laid off, and the struggle to make ends meet was real. I even got a second job to make it work. And shit with Chris kept piling on. He talked for ages about moving to thw same town as us while he and his husband made their way to their dream location. And I looked for apartments and jobs for him and promised to help with the move. And I thought that was all good. But he literally got an offer from an ex of his to move in with them instead, and just decided that that would be the move instead. Still expected me to help with moving and costs. Never asked, just expected.
Typing that out seems shitty. And selfish. And I am, I admit. But I was so heartbroken that we had been making these plans for a YEAR and he literally bailed the second he got another offer. That is what it felt like to me.
Besides that there was the money. At the job Chris and I worked, I made good money. Especially for the Midwest. In losing that job and taking a new one, I took a 40%cut in pay. I made ot work. Problem was, in my previous role, I was flush with cash and happy to splurge on my friends. Hell Chris's entire move and first month's rent came from me, as a gift to my friend. I spotted him money all the time, paid for groceries, movies were always on me. To such a point I think it became the norm, and defined our relationship. Because even when I was making WAY less money, Chris still expected the status quo. Constantly 'subtly' telling me he needed money for smoke, or hinting about how he had nothing to spend on his spouse for an anniversary gift. And I fucking encouraged it. I have something so fucked up in my brain that I NEED people to like me, even if it means trampling all over myself to achieve that delusion. I want to believe people love me, but I cannot reconcile it with how much I hate myself, and it leads to this shit. Every time.
Sorry for whining. Anyways.
It came to a head when we took a couples trip together. My and my partner, Chris and his. We booked a weekend in a city to see a comedian we loved and just have fun. I paid for accommodations and the comedian, I had gotten them nearly a year prior when money was no issue. And I offered to pay for the drinks and snacks at the vomedy club, since I already had a deposit down that was only partially refundable. We used it up. But through the entire trip, he expected more. I had to buy things at the mall, while shopping. And I should have said no. But I was so blinded by the joy I felt seeing my best dude for the first time in months, I just ignored it. Ignored me.
It came to a head on the last night of the vacay. We wnet out for a sushi dinner at Chris's behest, and I assumed we were all taking care of ourselves. Apparently not. Chris's partner got nauseous before the food arrived, and he left me to take care of the bill while he took care of the hubby. They ordered so much expensive shit, it was 100 buck extra onto the bill. And THEN driving home he asked if they could use some of my foodstamps to get some groceries . I get a generous supplement, so I said sure. He then proceeded to spend 250 bucks on all kinds of fancy shit. Porterhouse steaks, 13 buck lemon juice, etc. And watching it ring up, all I could feel was anger. My fiance and I needed that money to get by, and here it was being used for luxuries for someone who makes more money than I do.
Oh yeah, I forgot context. Since my new job, Chris makes more, and works less hours, than I do. We have similar expenses (he a car payment, I a mortgage). He had also had all utilities and rent taken care of for 1 year because of a program we got him in to help abused partners leaving bad relationships. So I am not fucking around when I say his financial situation has the potential to be miles better than mine.
So. Yeah. That's it. I messaged him about a month after the vacay to ask for the money for the sushi dinner back, since I had no gas money and was struggling. He literally told me he would 'try' to throw me something when he had money, but not right now.
And I just fuckint snapped. I never needed people in my life. Was a loser as a kid, a freak now, and I do okay with just myself and Youtube and Reddit and my kitties. I'm bad at peopleand don't try to make a lot of bonds. I'm fine on my own, always have been. Lucas and Mandi are my everything.
But I really thought this one was something. I love him so much, I miss him like crazy. I cared about him so much, and considered him like a bro, a bestie, all of the good things. I LOVED him. And in the end I was worth less than a fucking sushi dinner. (I get a 100 bucks is a lot. Hence why I wanted the money back, because it was a lot for me.) Anf he blew me off. And when I told him what I was feeling and that I wanted a break, he just tried to guilt trip me about how he's such a terrible person, and that's why everyone ghosted him before. I blocked him after that.
I've been watching ENCANTO and it's making me miss him so, so much. This was a movie we really bonded over. Quoted and sang all the time.
And I miss him.
Chris, since you found this account (thanks Chey and Wood, I sincerely hope you get hit by a bus), I recognize there is a chance you will read this. I miss you so much, and I want so bad for things to be as they were. But I don't trust you. And I don't forgive you right now. Don't know if I ever will, for how you treated me and made me feel. I've been used by people before. For money, connections, sexual gratification . . . I'm not someone people consider and want to keep around, ya know? I have friends generally by the grace if what I can provide. Mandi is the only person who has never, never not once taken advantage of me. Never. She's for real. You used me over and over and couldn't even pretend to care about making it right when I pleaded with you.
I am so, so, SO done begging people to think of me. Asking to be treated like a human fucking bejng as if it is such a task. I'm tired of it. I would rather spend my life in this ache of the void of your friendship than go back to being valued because I'm too fucking pathetic to say no to paying for everything. Or being the emotional punching bag when you and your husband get upset I suggest income alternatives since you were supposedly desperate for any cash and your partner can't work. I'm so sick of trying to give, hoping it will leave me with some sense of purpose or value. I have no purpose and no value, and you helped me see that very clearly, if even one of my best friends can't treat me like he cares in my hour of need.
I don't know what is going to happen next. I wish you well in your lifeand I hope with time comes maturity, and with that consideration, introspection, and reflection of who you are, and who you want to be.
I'm just going to keep trying to justify staying alive on this over-heated planet in this Conservative state with a lit of people who care about me almost as little as I care about myself.
I don't know what this was supposed to be. I don't feel any better.
I'm going to bed.
submitted by Graysonation to u/Graysonation [link] [comments]
His name is Chris. I met him a few years ago when he applied to work at the restaurant I managed. Like, the literal moment we met, we clicked. Same dark humor, same LGBT-forward identity, similar childhood baggage, and we just connected. I've only ever clicked like that with literally one other person in my entire life. And she's my hecking soulmate.
Chris was never my soulmate. Obviously. But we were tight. We tried new things together. Worked together. Hung out. Supported one another. He helped me figure out shit with my fiance when I was contemplating ending things. I helped him leave an abusive partner. We cooked and planned and got fucked up and laughed and loved and it was genuinely the best part of living in Kansas. STG.
I mean. It wasn't all sunshine and lollypops. Truth. We had some disagreements. I phrased things terribly a few times telling him to be tough in situations. He occasionally disregarded my feelings for his own. Both totally normal fuckups. Anf no relationship is perfect. It's hard being besties when one of you manages the other. And in effect, that started the downfall of our relationship. We made it work so unreasonably well.
In the end, I felt taken advantage of by Chris. I lost my job because of his ex and the shit that cunt started with my work and fiance. We had to relocate to a new state.l, and had bought a house and everything. And I still have a lot of anger about it. (Not just with Chris, my fiance made things so so much worse, dumbass.) But then things started spiralling. I took a lower paying job at the same time my fiance was laid off, and the struggle to make ends meet was real. I even got a second job to make it work. And shit with Chris kept piling on. He talked for ages about moving to thw same town as us while he and his husband made their way to their dream location. And I looked for apartments and jobs for him and promised to help with the move. And I thought that was all good. But he literally got an offer from an ex of his to move in with them instead, and just decided that that would be the move instead. Still expected me to help with moving and costs. Never asked, just expected.
Typing that out seems shitty. And selfish. And I am, I admit. But I was so heartbroken that we had been making these plans for a YEAR and he literally bailed the second he got another offer. That is what it felt like to me.
Besides that there was the money. At the job Chris and I worked, I made good money. Especially for the Midwest. In losing that job and taking a new one, I took a 40%cut in pay. I made ot work. Problem was, in my previous role, I was flush with cash and happy to splurge on my friends. Hell Chris's entire move and first month's rent came from me, as a gift to my friend. I spotted him money all the time, paid for groceries, movies were always on me. To such a point I think it became the norm, and defined our relationship. Because even when I was making WAY less money, Chris still expected the status quo. Constantly 'subtly' telling me he needed money for smoke, or hinting about how he had nothing to spend on his spouse for an anniversary gift. And I fucking encouraged it. I have something so fucked up in my brain that I NEED people to like me, even if it means trampling all over myself to achieve that delusion. I want to believe people love me, but I cannot reconcile it with how much I hate myself, and it leads to this shit. Every time.
Sorry for whining. Anyways.
It came to a head when we took a couples trip together. My and my partner, Chris and his. We booked a weekend in a city to see a comedian we loved and just have fun. I paid for accommodations and the comedian, I had gotten them nearly a year prior when money was no issue. And I offered to pay for the drinks and snacks at the vomedy club, since I already had a deposit down that was only partially refundable. We used it up. But through the entire trip, he expected more. I had to buy things at the mall, while shopping. And I should have said no. But I was so blinded by the joy I felt seeing my best dude for the first time in months, I just ignored it. Ignored me.
It came to a head on the last night of the vacay. We wnet out for a sushi dinner at Chris's behest, and I assumed we were all taking care of ourselves. Apparently not. Chris's partner got nauseous before the food arrived, and he left me to take care of the bill while he took care of the hubby. They ordered so much expensive shit, it was 100 buck extra onto the bill. And THEN driving home he asked if they could use some of my foodstamps to get some groceries . I get a generous supplement, so I said sure. He then proceeded to spend 250 bucks on all kinds of fancy shit. Porterhouse steaks, 13 buck lemon juice, etc. And watching it ring up, all I could feel was anger. My fiance and I needed that money to get by, and here it was being used for luxuries for someone who makes more money than I do.
Oh yeah, I forgot context. Since my new job, Chris makes more, and works less hours, than I do. We have similar expenses (he a car payment, I a mortgage). He had also had all utilities and rent taken care of for 1 year because of a program we got him in to help abused partners leaving bad relationships. So I am not fucking around when I say his financial situation has the potential to be miles better than mine.
So. Yeah. That's it. I messaged him about a month after the vacay to ask for the money for the sushi dinner back, since I had no gas money and was struggling. He literally told me he would 'try' to throw me something when he had money, but not right now.
And I just fuckint snapped. I never needed people in my life. Was a loser as a kid, a freak now, and I do okay with just myself and Youtube and Reddit and my kitties. I'm bad at peopleand don't try to make a lot of bonds. I'm fine on my own, always have been. Lucas and Mandi are my everything.
But I really thought this one was something. I love him so much, I miss him like crazy. I cared about him so much, and considered him like a bro, a bestie, all of the good things. I LOVED him. And in the end I was worth less than a fucking sushi dinner. (I get a 100 bucks is a lot. Hence why I wanted the money back, because it was a lot for me.) Anf he blew me off. And when I told him what I was feeling and that I wanted a break, he just tried to guilt trip me about how he's such a terrible person, and that's why everyone ghosted him before. I blocked him after that.
I've been watching ENCANTO and it's making me miss him so, so much. This was a movie we really bonded over. Quoted and sang all the time.
And I miss him.
Chris, since you found this account (thanks Chey and Wood, I sincerely hope you get hit by a bus), I recognize there is a chance you will read this. I miss you so much, and I want so bad for things to be as they were. But I don't trust you. And I don't forgive you right now. Don't know if I ever will, for how you treated me and made me feel. I've been used by people before. For money, connections, sexual gratification . . . I'm not someone people consider and want to keep around, ya know? I have friends generally by the grace if what I can provide. Mandi is the only person who has never, never not once taken advantage of me. Never. She's for real. You used me over and over and couldn't even pretend to care about making it right when I pleaded with you.
I am so, so, SO done begging people to think of me. Asking to be treated like a human fucking bejng as if it is such a task. I'm tired of it. I would rather spend my life in this ache of the void of your friendship than go back to being valued because I'm too fucking pathetic to say no to paying for everything. Or being the emotional punching bag when you and your husband get upset I suggest income alternatives since you were supposedly desperate for any cash and your partner can't work. I'm so sick of trying to give, hoping it will leave me with some sense of purpose or value. I have no purpose and no value, and you helped me see that very clearly, if even one of my best friends can't treat me like he cares in my hour of need.
I don't know what is going to happen next. I wish you well in your lifeand I hope with time comes maturity, and with that consideration, introspection, and reflection of who you are, and who you want to be.
I'm just going to keep trying to justify staying alive on this over-heated planet in this Conservative state with a lit of people who care about me almost as little as I care about myself.
I don't know what this was supposed to be. I don't feel any better.
I'm going to bed.
2023.06.09 22:50 Peraldi57 Is going whiskey tasting a smart move for a beginner?
Hey, I started getting into cocktails, mixed drinks, and wine a few months ago. And want to start experimenting with some spirits neat or on the rocks.
There’ll be a whiskey tasting near me in a few weeks. It’ll consist of tasting three different Glenmorangies. ( Original, Lasanta, Quinta)
Would you recommend this kind of tasting to a beginner? Or do you think I’ll be overwhelmed by the higher alcohol content and not enjoy it as much?
submitted by Peraldi57 to whiskey [link] [comments]
There’ll be a whiskey tasting near me in a few weeks. It’ll consist of tasting three different Glenmorangies. ( Original, Lasanta, Quinta)
Would you recommend this kind of tasting to a beginner? Or do you think I’ll be overwhelmed by the higher alcohol content and not enjoy it as much?
2023.06.09 22:15 HorrorJunkie123 I Work at a Small Town McDonald's. My Manager Makes us Follow a Strange Set of Rules - I Think I'm in Way Over my Head.
If you need to catch up, you can do so here.
A couple of college kids stumbled in, trying to hide the fact that they were obviously stoned out of their minds, and retrieved a pickup order. I watched as they clumsily staggered out the door. One of them held it politely for a small old lady. An old lady wearing a shawl. She didn’t utter so much as a thank you, beelining up to the register with purpose. I was exhausted, up well past my normal operating hours, so I had completely forgotten about the rules. Big mistake.
The woman glowered up at me, face obscured from view. Her head covering was black as well as the rest of her outfit, not unlike a ninja you’d see in a movie. The aura she radiated frightened me, but not enough to release me from my sleepy haze.
“Hello, how can I help you?” I yawned, lazily covering my mouth.
The woman didn’t move a muscle. She scowled at me, yellow reptilian eyes piercing my psyche and sending my heart into overdrive.
“Ma’am? Would you like to order something?”
Nothing. The longer we continued our staring match, the more sedated I felt, and not just due to the lack of sleep. She had some sort of strange pull over me. I nearly nodded off, my mind wandering back to the instructions.
Before I passed out, I murmured, “where’s Tony?”
Suddenly, I was released from my trance and the woman was nowhere to be found. Like she had simply vanished into thin air. My eyes widened. That was close. Too close. I trudged to the sink and splashed some cool water in my face, then poured myself a large cup of coffee. I knew it would probably keep me up well past closing, but hey, if it helped me avoid another incident like that, I was all for it.
I had just finished dumping the dustpan into the trash when I felt it. A peculiar sensation crept over me like bugs crawling on the back of my neck. I was being watched. But from where? I sensed it coming from the drive thru. I whipped my head in its direction. Empty. It shifted to the dining area. No one was there. I grew lightheaded and panic began to surge through my system. A breeze swept past my ear, and I swear I could hear a soft almost imperceptible voice whisper, “Blair.”
I bolted to the office, slamming the door shut as quickly as I could. What was that? I paced around the office like a caged animal, anxiously waiting for something, anything to happen. After what felt like an eternity, it began to dissipate without incident. I sat there for a moment, contemplating if this was really the right career path for me.
Was every night like this? I was snapped back to reality by static emanating from my headset. I ripped it off until the noise stopped. A bumbling male voice crackled through it.
“Hey, uh, is this place open?” he slurred, obviously under the influence.
“Yeah. What do you want to order?”
I was beginning to lose my cool. Between all the strange occurrences and the inebriated customers, my patience was wearing thin.
“I’ll have a filet-o-fish meal.”
“Coming right up.”
I made my way back to the kitchen and began preparing his order.
“Who the hell comes to McDonald’s at one-thirty in the morning for a freaking filet-o-fish?” I grumbled, purposely dousing his sandwich in sauce.
I served the man, hoping to be rid of him as soon as possible.
“Thanks. Hey, is that a kid at the counter?”
I turned my head and sure enough, there he was. A mess of blonde tangles and deep blue eyes peered at me from the register. I sighed.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of him. Have a good night.”
A child. Unaccompanied in my restaurant. Just what I needed. I began to approach the counter when rule seven blared in my mind like a tornado siren. I froze mid-stride.
“Just ignore him, Blair. It’s almost two. You got this,” I reassured myself, starting my closing duties early.
That was easier said than done. The child began wailing, shrill high-pitched screams reverberating off the walls. He ran into the kitchen area, allowing me a full view of his tiny frame. The boy couldn’t have been older than six. His Pac-Man T-shirt looked well outdated, and he was filthy, as if he hadn’t showered in years. He began tugging on my shirt, begging for attention.
“Please help me, lady. I can’t find my mommy,” he cried, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.
He was relentlessly pulling at my clothing. That was it. I’d reached my breaking point. If this child, monster, demon, whatever he was, planned on killing me, he could go ahead and put me out of my misery. I was done.
“Get out! Just screw off and leave me the hell alone!”
He immediately quit sniffling and straightened up as if I’d flipped a switch. Red tinged his striking pupils. Dread began sinking into my gut. A malicious grin blossomed across his lips.
“You made the right choice,” he growled as he headed toward the exit.
“Weirdo kid,” I mumbled, returning to cleaning.
I finished up and waited around for two to hit, praying for a quiet, uneventful end to my first nightmare closing shift. Of course, my prayers went unanswered. I had a mere three minutes until I was supposed to clock out when I spotted it. A dark red viscous liquid oozing from beneath the stove.
“Great. Awesome. Just what I needed.”
I filled up a mop bucket in the storage closet and began sopping up the mystery fluid. If it wasn’t blood, you could’ve fooled me. A persistent copper taste assaulted my tongue every time I opened my mouth. I gagged, forcing vomit back down my throat. The stuff just wouldn’t stop coming. On my third bucket-full of sloshing crimson, I finally started gaining an upper hand.
I mopped fervently as blisters erupted across my hands from the friction of the wooden handle. All the not-blood had been disposed of. I breathed a sigh of relief, careful to avoid splashing myself as I dumped the last of it down the drain. I’d done it.
“Take that, bitches! I win!” I cheered as if I’d just claimed first prize at the Indy 500.
My celebration was short-lived once I glanced down at my phone. 2:35 A.M. I bolted to the freezer, scooping up a couple bags of frozen patties. I slashed them open as quickly as I could, hoping in vain that I’d be able to make it out in time. I dumped their contents on the grill, then turned to toss the packaging in the trash. My heart plummeted into my gut.
A man stood before me. His black dead eyes matched that of the small mask encompassing the top half of his face. Wispy red hair sprouted from his floppy hat. A matching tattered black and white striped uniform framed his features, accompanied by a dingy red tie dotted with images of burgers. He grinned at me, jagged rotten teeth sending a chill undulating through my entire body. He spoke, a rough gravelly voice shattering the tense silence.
“Look, I know you’re new here, so I’ll spare you this time. But if I ever catch you in here this late again, I won’t think twice about increasing my calorie intake.”
His wicked smile exuded a malevolent hunger that still haunts my nightmares. A wet gray tongue wormed its way around his cracked withered lips. I felt like a mouse about to be devoured by a rattlesnake. He scowled at me.
“What are you still doing here? GET OUT!”
I suddenly regained my mobility. I tore through the dining area and burst into the cool night air. The Hamburglar’s soulless stare followed me into the vacant parking lot. I hurriedly locked him inside and raced to my car as a torrent of emotions flooded through me at once. Fear, anger, and confusion were all prominent on my desolate drive home. In the end, rage won out.
I wasn’t scheduled the next day, but I was determined to make that smug prick in charge at least give me some sort of explanation. I returned to the golden arches around four hours later running on zero sleep and a whole pot of Maxwell House. With fire in my eyes, I flung the door open and marched straight to Dave’s office.
“Oh, yeah, it was great. Had his car repossessed and everything. Oh, hey Blitz. Uh huh. Yep. I-”
“For the last freaking time, it's Blair! B-L-A-I-R. Not Blitzen, not Blaziken, not Blakely. BLAIR.”
Dave furrowed his brow, mouth slightly agape.
“Yeah Jim, I’ll have to get back to you.”
He ended the call and furiously pocketed his phone.
“Do you even know who that was? I mean, why the hell do you think you can just storm into my office like this-”
“No, you listen to me, Davey boy. I just had the worst night of my life. Every weird thing that could’ve happened, happened. And you don’t care one bit.”
“I see you’ve become acquainted with our more… troublesome clientele.”
“Yeah. I have. And I’m not dealing with that crap again. I quit,” I hissed, dramatically slapping my hat onto his polished cedarwood desk before turning to walk out the door.
“Wait! Twenty-five an hour.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. I reluctantly faced him. A sly toothy grin was stamped on his greasy face. I mulled it over. That was almost double what I was currently making. I could have my college paid for in no time.
“Twenty-seven and you’ve got a deal.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Blair. I accept,” he said, extending his hand.
I begrudgingly shook it, cringing as his sweaty palm gripped mine.
“I’m glad you were able to see reason. Welcome to the night crew.”
SR
submitted by HorrorJunkie123 to nosleep [link] [comments]
If you need to catch up, you can do so here.
A couple of college kids stumbled in, trying to hide the fact that they were obviously stoned out of their minds, and retrieved a pickup order. I watched as they clumsily staggered out the door. One of them held it politely for a small old lady. An old lady wearing a shawl. She didn’t utter so much as a thank you, beelining up to the register with purpose. I was exhausted, up well past my normal operating hours, so I had completely forgotten about the rules. Big mistake.
The woman glowered up at me, face obscured from view. Her head covering was black as well as the rest of her outfit, not unlike a ninja you’d see in a movie. The aura she radiated frightened me, but not enough to release me from my sleepy haze.
“Hello, how can I help you?” I yawned, lazily covering my mouth.
The woman didn’t move a muscle. She scowled at me, yellow reptilian eyes piercing my psyche and sending my heart into overdrive.
“Ma’am? Would you like to order something?”
Nothing. The longer we continued our staring match, the more sedated I felt, and not just due to the lack of sleep. She had some sort of strange pull over me. I nearly nodded off, my mind wandering back to the instructions.
Before I passed out, I murmured, “where’s Tony?”
Suddenly, I was released from my trance and the woman was nowhere to be found. Like she had simply vanished into thin air. My eyes widened. That was close. Too close. I trudged to the sink and splashed some cool water in my face, then poured myself a large cup of coffee. I knew it would probably keep me up well past closing, but hey, if it helped me avoid another incident like that, I was all for it.
I had just finished dumping the dustpan into the trash when I felt it. A peculiar sensation crept over me like bugs crawling on the back of my neck. I was being watched. But from where? I sensed it coming from the drive thru. I whipped my head in its direction. Empty. It shifted to the dining area. No one was there. I grew lightheaded and panic began to surge through my system. A breeze swept past my ear, and I swear I could hear a soft almost imperceptible voice whisper, “Blair.”
I bolted to the office, slamming the door shut as quickly as I could. What was that? I paced around the office like a caged animal, anxiously waiting for something, anything to happen. After what felt like an eternity, it began to dissipate without incident. I sat there for a moment, contemplating if this was really the right career path for me.
Was every night like this? I was snapped back to reality by static emanating from my headset. I ripped it off until the noise stopped. A bumbling male voice crackled through it.
“Hey, uh, is this place open?” he slurred, obviously under the influence.
“Yeah. What do you want to order?”
I was beginning to lose my cool. Between all the strange occurrences and the inebriated customers, my patience was wearing thin.
“I’ll have a filet-o-fish meal.”
“Coming right up.”
I made my way back to the kitchen and began preparing his order.
“Who the hell comes to McDonald’s at one-thirty in the morning for a freaking filet-o-fish?” I grumbled, purposely dousing his sandwich in sauce.
I served the man, hoping to be rid of him as soon as possible.
“Thanks. Hey, is that a kid at the counter?”
I turned my head and sure enough, there he was. A mess of blonde tangles and deep blue eyes peered at me from the register. I sighed.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of him. Have a good night.”
A child. Unaccompanied in my restaurant. Just what I needed. I began to approach the counter when rule seven blared in my mind like a tornado siren. I froze mid-stride.
“Just ignore him, Blair. It’s almost two. You got this,” I reassured myself, starting my closing duties early.
That was easier said than done. The child began wailing, shrill high-pitched screams reverberating off the walls. He ran into the kitchen area, allowing me a full view of his tiny frame. The boy couldn’t have been older than six. His Pac-Man T-shirt looked well outdated, and he was filthy, as if he hadn’t showered in years. He began tugging on my shirt, begging for attention.
“Please help me, lady. I can’t find my mommy,” he cried, tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.
He was relentlessly pulling at my clothing. That was it. I’d reached my breaking point. If this child, monster, demon, whatever he was, planned on killing me, he could go ahead and put me out of my misery. I was done.
“Get out! Just screw off and leave me the hell alone!”
He immediately quit sniffling and straightened up as if I’d flipped a switch. Red tinged his striking pupils. Dread began sinking into my gut. A malicious grin blossomed across his lips.
“You made the right choice,” he growled as he headed toward the exit.
“Weirdo kid,” I mumbled, returning to cleaning.
I finished up and waited around for two to hit, praying for a quiet, uneventful end to my first nightmare closing shift. Of course, my prayers went unanswered. I had a mere three minutes until I was supposed to clock out when I spotted it. A dark red viscous liquid oozing from beneath the stove.
“Great. Awesome. Just what I needed.”
I filled up a mop bucket in the storage closet and began sopping up the mystery fluid. If it wasn’t blood, you could’ve fooled me. A persistent copper taste assaulted my tongue every time I opened my mouth. I gagged, forcing vomit back down my throat. The stuff just wouldn’t stop coming. On my third bucket-full of sloshing crimson, I finally started gaining an upper hand.
I mopped fervently as blisters erupted across my hands from the friction of the wooden handle. All the not-blood had been disposed of. I breathed a sigh of relief, careful to avoid splashing myself as I dumped the last of it down the drain. I’d done it.
“Take that, bitches! I win!” I cheered as if I’d just claimed first prize at the Indy 500.
My celebration was short-lived once I glanced down at my phone. 2:35 A.M. I bolted to the freezer, scooping up a couple bags of frozen patties. I slashed them open as quickly as I could, hoping in vain that I’d be able to make it out in time. I dumped their contents on the grill, then turned to toss the packaging in the trash. My heart plummeted into my gut.
A man stood before me. His black dead eyes matched that of the small mask encompassing the top half of his face. Wispy red hair sprouted from his floppy hat. A matching tattered black and white striped uniform framed his features, accompanied by a dingy red tie dotted with images of burgers. He grinned at me, jagged rotten teeth sending a chill undulating through my entire body. He spoke, a rough gravelly voice shattering the tense silence.
“Look, I know you’re new here, so I’ll spare you this time. But if I ever catch you in here this late again, I won’t think twice about increasing my calorie intake.”
His wicked smile exuded a malevolent hunger that still haunts my nightmares. A wet gray tongue wormed its way around his cracked withered lips. I felt like a mouse about to be devoured by a rattlesnake. He scowled at me.
“What are you still doing here? GET OUT!”
I suddenly regained my mobility. I tore through the dining area and burst into the cool night air. The Hamburglar’s soulless stare followed me into the vacant parking lot. I hurriedly locked him inside and raced to my car as a torrent of emotions flooded through me at once. Fear, anger, and confusion were all prominent on my desolate drive home. In the end, rage won out.
I wasn’t scheduled the next day, but I was determined to make that smug prick in charge at least give me some sort of explanation. I returned to the golden arches around four hours later running on zero sleep and a whole pot of Maxwell House. With fire in my eyes, I flung the door open and marched straight to Dave’s office.
“Oh, yeah, it was great. Had his car repossessed and everything. Oh, hey Blitz. Uh huh. Yep. I-”
“For the last freaking time, it's Blair! B-L-A-I-R. Not Blitzen, not Blaziken, not Blakely. BLAIR.”
Dave furrowed his brow, mouth slightly agape.
“Yeah Jim, I’ll have to get back to you.”
He ended the call and furiously pocketed his phone.
“Do you even know who that was? I mean, why the hell do you think you can just storm into my office like this-”
“No, you listen to me, Davey boy. I just had the worst night of my life. Every weird thing that could’ve happened, happened. And you don’t care one bit.”
“I see you’ve become acquainted with our more… troublesome clientele.”
“Yeah. I have. And I’m not dealing with that crap again. I quit,” I hissed, dramatically slapping my hat onto his polished cedarwood desk before turning to walk out the door.
“Wait! Twenty-five an hour.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. I reluctantly faced him. A sly toothy grin was stamped on his greasy face. I mulled it over. That was almost double what I was currently making. I could have my college paid for in no time.
“Twenty-seven and you’ve got a deal.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Blair. I accept,” he said, extending his hand.
I begrudgingly shook it, cringing as his sweaty palm gripped mine.
“I’m glad you were able to see reason. Welcome to the night crew.”
SR
2023.06.09 22:03 GiveMeRentThrowaway Recent grad with a rescinded job offer & now stuck paying for a lease I can’t afford. Do I have a promissory estoppel claim in CA?
I’m about to graduate in CA and I was offered a full-time position by my dream company in the entertainment industry after several internships with them. I have a signed offer letter dated to March with a start date in late June.
My partner and I started apartment hunting in May and found the perfect place in LA (affordable rent, walkable community, nice landlord, close to my work). Our ability to meet their 2.5x rent minimum income requirement was purely contingent on my job offer and the income I’d receive from it starting the end of June. Our lease agreement doesn’t explicitly mention any conditional agreements based on my job offer, but our online application materials show that we don’t meet income criteria without my job offer letter.
Because we also don’t have any rental history together, the management company approved our application only if they doubled the security deposit due to liability. While this was a huge blow to us financially, we felt it was worth the risk and agreed with the understanding that my job could cover the temporary negative impact to our finances.
TLDR: I only accepted signing this lease and paying for $6k in move-in expenses based on the promise of my company’s job offer and recuperating these costs through my income.
Last week, my company informed me that due to company restructuring and budget cuts, they will have to eliminate my position and rescind my offer. I have an official rescission letter from the company.
By this point, my lease hadn’t started yet (and still hasn’t at the time of this post). I informed my landlord about the change in situation and asked if there were any options to be removed from the lease and receive our deposit back because my partner and I literally don’t have the means to afford this apartment without the job offer (and with the current state of the entertainment industry (strikes, revenue hits, etc.) and the economy, I’m not sure when I will find a job). I mentioned that our lease hasn’t started yet and the income that our tenancy was approved on no longer exists, but management said that our minimum income only mattered at the time of the application approval and that we’re basically shit out of luck for anything that happens to us after the lease is signed. We asked about any option from paying severance fees, subletting, finding a qualified person ourselves to take over - all were denied.
The landlord gave us 2 options: (1) stick to moving in and stay on the $2k/month lease until the end of the 1-year term OR (2) not move in at all and agree to let the landlord show the apartment to new potential tenants who can take over our lease, but we cannot receive our nearly $6k security deposit back. We took the second one with hopes that they will find a new tenant ASAP while I job hunt and we save up money by moving back in with our parents.
Here are my concerns. I feel like I have a good case for promissory estoppel, but I have no idea if it’s worth the hassle or if that will only burn bridges at a company that I would love to work for in the future once all the dust is settled. Should I just suck up the $6k in losses and treat it as a very expensive lesson? Should I reach out to this (pretty financially struggling) company and ask for any move-in compensation? Do I need a lawyer to initiate any of this? Should I get any of what the landlord and I discussed over the phone in writing?
I feel like as an entry-level college grad with no career leverage, I want to stay in this industry and I don’t want to get on the bad side of this company or put myself on any blacklists. But as lower-income, I just don’t know if I can afford $6k down the drain like that. Any help is appreciated.
submitted by GiveMeRentThrowaway to legaladvice [link] [comments]
My partner and I started apartment hunting in May and found the perfect place in LA (affordable rent, walkable community, nice landlord, close to my work). Our ability to meet their 2.5x rent minimum income requirement was purely contingent on my job offer and the income I’d receive from it starting the end of June. Our lease agreement doesn’t explicitly mention any conditional agreements based on my job offer, but our online application materials show that we don’t meet income criteria without my job offer letter.
Because we also don’t have any rental history together, the management company approved our application only if they doubled the security deposit due to liability. While this was a huge blow to us financially, we felt it was worth the risk and agreed with the understanding that my job could cover the temporary negative impact to our finances.
TLDR: I only accepted signing this lease and paying for $6k in move-in expenses based on the promise of my company’s job offer and recuperating these costs through my income.
Last week, my company informed me that due to company restructuring and budget cuts, they will have to eliminate my position and rescind my offer. I have an official rescission letter from the company.
By this point, my lease hadn’t started yet (and still hasn’t at the time of this post). I informed my landlord about the change in situation and asked if there were any options to be removed from the lease and receive our deposit back because my partner and I literally don’t have the means to afford this apartment without the job offer (and with the current state of the entertainment industry (strikes, revenue hits, etc.) and the economy, I’m not sure when I will find a job). I mentioned that our lease hasn’t started yet and the income that our tenancy was approved on no longer exists, but management said that our minimum income only mattered at the time of the application approval and that we’re basically shit out of luck for anything that happens to us after the lease is signed. We asked about any option from paying severance fees, subletting, finding a qualified person ourselves to take over - all were denied.
The landlord gave us 2 options: (1) stick to moving in and stay on the $2k/month lease until the end of the 1-year term OR (2) not move in at all and agree to let the landlord show the apartment to new potential tenants who can take over our lease, but we cannot receive our nearly $6k security deposit back. We took the second one with hopes that they will find a new tenant ASAP while I job hunt and we save up money by moving back in with our parents.
Here are my concerns. I feel like I have a good case for promissory estoppel, but I have no idea if it’s worth the hassle or if that will only burn bridges at a company that I would love to work for in the future once all the dust is settled. Should I just suck up the $6k in losses and treat it as a very expensive lesson? Should I reach out to this (pretty financially struggling) company and ask for any move-in compensation? Do I need a lawyer to initiate any of this? Should I get any of what the landlord and I discussed over the phone in writing?
I feel like as an entry-level college grad with no career leverage, I want to stay in this industry and I don’t want to get on the bad side of this company or put myself on any blacklists. But as lower-income, I just don’t know if I can afford $6k down the drain like that. Any help is appreciated.
2023.06.09 21:56 Gallantpride What are some cool Puerto Rican and Dominican related places to visit in NYC?
I'm not talking about restaurants, by the way. I mean places where I can learn about the cultures or such as. Museums, cafes, music stores, poetry clubs, groups, etc, etc.
Edit:
I know of El Barrio Music Center in Lexington and Human Head Records in Brooklyn.
I know of plena and bomba classes like BombaYo and Los Pleneros De La 21, but I'm not sure if I want to try my hand at music.
submitted by Gallantpride to AskNYC [link] [comments]
Edit:
I know of El Barrio Music Center in Lexington and Human Head Records in Brooklyn.
I know of plena and bomba classes like BombaYo and Los Pleneros De La 21, but I'm not sure if I want to try my hand at music.
2023.06.09 21:31 DAMadigan Timeline of an Ancient King Fan
So the older I get, the more it comes to dawn on me that other people, lots of other people, in fact, most other people, don't have the same experiences I do. This is true with pretty much everything. I have posted about my specific, singular experiences with everything from STAR WARS to Heroclix on various other online forums. Now I'll spend a few minutes telling you about my experiences with the work of Stephen King.
I am currently 61 years old and by slightly odd coincidence (it doesn't really matter, it's just a number thing) I was born in late 1961. The first Stephen King novel I ever read was THE SHINING. I read the trade paperback with the shiny silver color and the blank faced boy image on it. I enjoyed it a great deal and when one of the very few other student in my high school who read for pleasure saw me with it, she mentioned she liked the author a lot and offered to loan me his two other books. In the end she welshed – I was to discover she wasn't very reliable or trustworthy – but it got me interested enough to go looking for other stuff by King at the public library and that was where I first got copies of CARRIE and SALEM'S LOT – both mass market paperbacks as well. I don't remember the cover of the CARRIE book I read but the SALEM'S LOT had a black cover with an embossed child's face that had a single drop of red blood at the corner of the mouth.
I enjoyed both books even more than I'd liked THE SHINING. In King's forewords to his various different collections, he often contradicts himself as to events of this time period, but one thing that does come through very clearly, and this is obvious from the fiction he's writing too, is that he has always seriously seriously yearned to be a literary writer, rather than a commercially successful genre writer. He tells a story about his agent at the time warning him that if he does a haunted hotel book after the psychic teenager book and the vampire book, he's going to get 'typed', and how he laughed that off and said it was perfectly fine, and I tend to think that's a romanticization of what happened, because King is clearly, as my daughters would say, 'thirsty' for highbrow approbation. He wants the New York Times literary critic to praise his work. He wants to win a Pulitzer and all the other la di da prizes. It just kills him that he's the most successful author in the world in a 'trashy' genre. (When he parody/pities himself in MISERY, his fictionalized self is a writer of trashy romances. That will tell you right there how much respect King has for the genre fiction that has made him an unprecedented and nearly unimaginable success, and the fans of that fiction. He thinks horror is essentially the same thing as trashy romance.)
I think by the time THE SHINING came out King was anxious to be taken more seriously, and that's why THE SHINING seems so much more 'literary' than CARRIE or SALEM'S LOT. It's characters are more grimly realistic, the 'issues' it confronts (alcoholism! Child abuse! Bad parenting!) are all deeply serious. There is no Father Callahan character reviling social consciousness and yearning/demanding for a darker, more supernatural, occult, and 'unrealistic' evil to confront. Jack's alcoholism is the root of all the evil in THE SHINING, and in the end, his even momentary ability to take control of himself again is what allows the 'good guys' to triumph.
There's no such tedious grappling with real life problems in CARRIE or SALEM'S LOT. Oh, CARRIE is obviously centered around the cruelty of bullying, but King is hardly preaching about it or proposing any kind of real life action be taken; in CARRIE, some kids are absolute assholes, they pick on the wrong girl, and they get Blowed The Fuck Up. Nothing literary there. In SALEM'S LOT, King makes the occasional head fake towards tedious real life social problems – Parkins Gillespies tiresome speech about gory drive in movies is one such passage – but mostly he's all about getting this dumb little town in Maine eyebrows deep in vampires as quick as he can. He's obviously having a good time with the narrative and so are we. Again, nothing particularly grim n gritty, no real literary social issues to grapple with. None of the major characters are drunks or gay; Teen Mom is a child abuser but boy does she get hers, so that's okay. And as mentioned previously, Father Callahan is right in there talking about how much grim n gritty reality sucks balls and what he really wants is to fight True Evil.
And then THE SHINING comes along and it's a terrific book, wonderfully well written, but it seems very much to be King trying hard to get some serious reviews from the literary outlets. And ROADWORK, the trudgingly realistic novel he also wrote at this time and published as Richard Bachman, is just soporific.
But after THE SHINING comes THE STAND, which at the time seemed like a hugely ambitious undertaking that King nonetheless pulled off with aplomb. We had no idea exactly how huge an undertaking it really was as we would not see the sprawling, undisciplined monstrosity that was THE UNCUT STAND for decades to come. With THE STAND it seemed very much as if King had given up his quest for literary stature and gone back to just telling a really rockin' action-horror story. Twenty years later we'd find out that this was mostly an illusion; it's just that wise editors, knowing what mass audiences wanted, cut all the horrible real life social issue happy crappy (like the endless weeping and whining about Frannie's pregnancy and her fraught relationship with her psycho mom – King's good books always have a psycho mom in there somewhere – and the homosexual rapes embodied by The Kid and all that other lugubrious nonsense). After THE STAND came THE DEAD ZONE – a more down to earth narrative, absolutely, but still a damn good story with great heroes and villains and a central doomed love affair that proved, for the first time, that King really could be a top notch romance writer if he wanted to. And after THE DEAD ZONE came FIRESTARTER, one of my all time favorite King books. Like THE RUNNING MAN, FIRESTARTER is nothing but high velocity heavy impact action action action, and I loved every word of it. Wonderful heroes, truly villainous villains, and all of it painted with King's deft touch for characterization and atmosphere that made it all seem very believable. FIRESTARTER is, really, almost a remake of John Farris' THE FURY (which is also very much worth reading) but the rule of rip offs is, if you gotta steal, make your version better, and King absolutely accomplished that.
Yeah, and then came CUJO which made me want to barf, it was just SO bad. A killer St. Bernard! An adulterous affair! An advertising guy! OH THE LITTLE KID DIES! And maybe, who knows, we can't say, really, but maybe it had something to do with that crazy cop from DEAD ZONE? Maybe? Holy shit what a terrible, terrible book, and again, yet another one where King was obviously desperately jumping up and down and waving his arms, saying “hey big literary critics! Over here! I'M GRAPPLING WITH HUMAN FRAILTY AND VITAL TRENDY SOCIAL ISSUES!”
DEAD ZONE had come out when I was a senior in high school; FIRESTARTER came out when I was a freshman in college, and I bought it in hardcopy because that's how much I liked Stephen King. I still have that volume on my shelves; on the inside flap of the badly tattered dust cover you can still make out that cover price – $13.95. A lot of jack for a kid who didn't even have a work study job, but I doled it out and was not disappointed.
But once CUJO hit, I got warned off by another student who liked King. So I didn't buy it in hardcover or paperback, I waited until I could get it out of the library, and it blew moist chunks. And that was a very weird time for King's stuff. Next thing was the non fiction DANSE MACABRE, which interested me not at all, and then a lot of strange shit started bubbling up. King had just started to get his swagger on, with like eight best sellers under his belt, so he did CREEPSHOW and CYCLE OF THE WEREWOLF and they were pretty terrible, other than the pretty pictures. Hollywood had discovered King by then and that just added to his strut. He was starting to realize he could hand a stack of old dish towels to his publisher and his publisher would do their best to turn that into a new horror novel by Stephen King. I think it was about then his substance abuse issues really started to get their claws into him, too. Whatever the case, I stopped being an avid fan, and started being a 'maybe I'll read this when I can get it out of the library, if someone else tells me it's any good'.
Around this time – the early 80s – a lot of King material started bubbling up in various places. His first Gunslinger short story came out in THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY & SCIENCE FICTION, and I was very disappointed by it. Another story followed in the next issue of F&SF, “Night of the Tiger”, and it was pretty bad too. I had absolutely loved pretty much everything in King's first collection NIGHT SHIFT, so between CUJO and this nonsense, I was really starting to rethink how much I liked King.
Then DIFFERENT SEASONS came out, and it was all great, especially “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption”. But I wasn't swayed; King's own introduction told me all four novellas had been written earlier in his career, when he was still doing fine work. When CHRISTINE came out I was like “haunted car? No thanks”. But a guy I was living with at the time said “No, it's good, give it a shot” so I did and I loved it. And as it turned out, it was the last book by Stephen King I would ever wholeheartedly love, but to this day, I think CHRISTINE may be one of his finest works every. Great characters. Great villains. Will Darnell, Wretch In Residence. The awfulness that was Roland D. LeBay. And of course, that central doomed romance... not between Leigh and Arnie, or Leigh and Dennis, but between Arnie and Dennis.
CHRISTINE was an absolute masterwork, King back fully in control of his talent and his craft. And it was the last time he ever was, as far as I can see. Every thing he's put out since has just been one disappointment after another. Some are worse than others – there's really just no excuse at all for his two exercises in towering self pity, MISERY and THE DARK HALF – but none of them manage to ever get better than, well, kinda interesting. There's a real story somewhere in INSOMNIA, but King would have needed to work to polish it and he didn't want to and no editor was going to make him. SCENES FROM A BUICK 8 has a lot of interesting stuff in it. DESPERATION and THE REGULATORS were certainly a cool idea he had no idea how to make work. It's all just a flow of trash, junk, and mediocrity. NEEDFUL THINGS seemed like some kind of gleeful revenge fantasy where he got to dole out horrible, EC Comics style come uppances to thinly disguised versions of everybody he was mad at. TOMMYKNOCKERS and DREAMCATCHER were just bewildering.
Over the past few years I've seen bits and pieces of King's work I liked, but mostly it is still disappointing. THE INSTITUTE is pointless junk. REVIVAL seems silly but that ending is pure raw high octane Lovecraftian terror and almost worth sludging through the rest of the narrative to get to. DR. SLEEP is offensively stupid; King's characterization depends on presenting narrative events from the third person-first person viewpoint of his characters, and we spent far too much time behind Jack Torrance's eyes to be willing to believe he'd ever had an affair, much less one that knocked the girl up.
One of the sections of HEARTS IN ATLANTIS, about the kid who gets involved with the guy who escaped from the Dark Tower and is being pursued by Low Men In Yellow Coats, is actually really enjoyable; it inspired me to write one of my own novellas.
Still, for the most part, if you haven't read CARRIE, SALEM'S LOT, NIGHT SHIFT, THE SHINING, THE STAND (not the uncut edition, if you can avoid that, do it, King badly needs gifted editors), THE DEAD ZONE, FIRESTARTER, CHRISTINE, and DIFFERENT SEASONS, you haven't read King's best work, or probably the finest horror novels produced in the 20th Century. I would also throw in there two Bachman books – RAGE is a much better book than it is given credit for and deserves far better treatment than to be taken out of print because it predicted a contemporary social evil, and THE RUNNING MAN is one of the best things King has ever written.
Once you get through those, though, the pickings get very slim. There's some glitter in the dirt, but it is mostly fool's gold and often it's buried in big piles of shit.
Still, a lot of great writers publish really bad books. My other favorite writer ever, Roger Zelazny, has written some truly unreadable tripe. But he also wrote LORD OF LIGHT and I'll forgive him any number of DAMNATION ALLEYS for that. King wrote SALEM'S LOT and FIRESTARTER and CHRISTINE and “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption” and I can forgive him a great deal of fucking nonsense for giving the world those stories. (It is more difficult to forgive the truly terrible TV and movie adaptations his works seem to near universally inspire, but that is another long post entirely.)
submitted by DAMadigan to stephenking [link] [comments]
I am currently 61 years old and by slightly odd coincidence (it doesn't really matter, it's just a number thing) I was born in late 1961. The first Stephen King novel I ever read was THE SHINING. I read the trade paperback with the shiny silver color and the blank faced boy image on it. I enjoyed it a great deal and when one of the very few other student in my high school who read for pleasure saw me with it, she mentioned she liked the author a lot and offered to loan me his two other books. In the end she welshed – I was to discover she wasn't very reliable or trustworthy – but it got me interested enough to go looking for other stuff by King at the public library and that was where I first got copies of CARRIE and SALEM'S LOT – both mass market paperbacks as well. I don't remember the cover of the CARRIE book I read but the SALEM'S LOT had a black cover with an embossed child's face that had a single drop of red blood at the corner of the mouth.
I enjoyed both books even more than I'd liked THE SHINING. In King's forewords to his various different collections, he often contradicts himself as to events of this time period, but one thing that does come through very clearly, and this is obvious from the fiction he's writing too, is that he has always seriously seriously yearned to be a literary writer, rather than a commercially successful genre writer. He tells a story about his agent at the time warning him that if he does a haunted hotel book after the psychic teenager book and the vampire book, he's going to get 'typed', and how he laughed that off and said it was perfectly fine, and I tend to think that's a romanticization of what happened, because King is clearly, as my daughters would say, 'thirsty' for highbrow approbation. He wants the New York Times literary critic to praise his work. He wants to win a Pulitzer and all the other la di da prizes. It just kills him that he's the most successful author in the world in a 'trashy' genre. (When he parody/pities himself in MISERY, his fictionalized self is a writer of trashy romances. That will tell you right there how much respect King has for the genre fiction that has made him an unprecedented and nearly unimaginable success, and the fans of that fiction. He thinks horror is essentially the same thing as trashy romance.)
I think by the time THE SHINING came out King was anxious to be taken more seriously, and that's why THE SHINING seems so much more 'literary' than CARRIE or SALEM'S LOT. It's characters are more grimly realistic, the 'issues' it confronts (alcoholism! Child abuse! Bad parenting!) are all deeply serious. There is no Father Callahan character reviling social consciousness and yearning/demanding for a darker, more supernatural, occult, and 'unrealistic' evil to confront. Jack's alcoholism is the root of all the evil in THE SHINING, and in the end, his even momentary ability to take control of himself again is what allows the 'good guys' to triumph.
There's no such tedious grappling with real life problems in CARRIE or SALEM'S LOT. Oh, CARRIE is obviously centered around the cruelty of bullying, but King is hardly preaching about it or proposing any kind of real life action be taken; in CARRIE, some kids are absolute assholes, they pick on the wrong girl, and they get Blowed The Fuck Up. Nothing literary there. In SALEM'S LOT, King makes the occasional head fake towards tedious real life social problems – Parkins Gillespies tiresome speech about gory drive in movies is one such passage – but mostly he's all about getting this dumb little town in Maine eyebrows deep in vampires as quick as he can. He's obviously having a good time with the narrative and so are we. Again, nothing particularly grim n gritty, no real literary social issues to grapple with. None of the major characters are drunks or gay; Teen Mom is a child abuser but boy does she get hers, so that's okay. And as mentioned previously, Father Callahan is right in there talking about how much grim n gritty reality sucks balls and what he really wants is to fight True Evil.
And then THE SHINING comes along and it's a terrific book, wonderfully well written, but it seems very much to be King trying hard to get some serious reviews from the literary outlets. And ROADWORK, the trudgingly realistic novel he also wrote at this time and published as Richard Bachman, is just soporific.
But after THE SHINING comes THE STAND, which at the time seemed like a hugely ambitious undertaking that King nonetheless pulled off with aplomb. We had no idea exactly how huge an undertaking it really was as we would not see the sprawling, undisciplined monstrosity that was THE UNCUT STAND for decades to come. With THE STAND it seemed very much as if King had given up his quest for literary stature and gone back to just telling a really rockin' action-horror story. Twenty years later we'd find out that this was mostly an illusion; it's just that wise editors, knowing what mass audiences wanted, cut all the horrible real life social issue happy crappy (like the endless weeping and whining about Frannie's pregnancy and her fraught relationship with her psycho mom – King's good books always have a psycho mom in there somewhere – and the homosexual rapes embodied by The Kid and all that other lugubrious nonsense). After THE STAND came THE DEAD ZONE – a more down to earth narrative, absolutely, but still a damn good story with great heroes and villains and a central doomed love affair that proved, for the first time, that King really could be a top notch romance writer if he wanted to. And after THE DEAD ZONE came FIRESTARTER, one of my all time favorite King books. Like THE RUNNING MAN, FIRESTARTER is nothing but high velocity heavy impact action action action, and I loved every word of it. Wonderful heroes, truly villainous villains, and all of it painted with King's deft touch for characterization and atmosphere that made it all seem very believable. FIRESTARTER is, really, almost a remake of John Farris' THE FURY (which is also very much worth reading) but the rule of rip offs is, if you gotta steal, make your version better, and King absolutely accomplished that.
Yeah, and then came CUJO which made me want to barf, it was just SO bad. A killer St. Bernard! An adulterous affair! An advertising guy! OH THE LITTLE KID DIES! And maybe, who knows, we can't say, really, but maybe it had something to do with that crazy cop from DEAD ZONE? Maybe? Holy shit what a terrible, terrible book, and again, yet another one where King was obviously desperately jumping up and down and waving his arms, saying “hey big literary critics! Over here! I'M GRAPPLING WITH HUMAN FRAILTY AND VITAL TRENDY SOCIAL ISSUES!”
DEAD ZONE had come out when I was a senior in high school; FIRESTARTER came out when I was a freshman in college, and I bought it in hardcopy because that's how much I liked Stephen King. I still have that volume on my shelves; on the inside flap of the badly tattered dust cover you can still make out that cover price – $13.95. A lot of jack for a kid who didn't even have a work study job, but I doled it out and was not disappointed.
But once CUJO hit, I got warned off by another student who liked King. So I didn't buy it in hardcover or paperback, I waited until I could get it out of the library, and it blew moist chunks. And that was a very weird time for King's stuff. Next thing was the non fiction DANSE MACABRE, which interested me not at all, and then a lot of strange shit started bubbling up. King had just started to get his swagger on, with like eight best sellers under his belt, so he did CREEPSHOW and CYCLE OF THE WEREWOLF and they were pretty terrible, other than the pretty pictures. Hollywood had discovered King by then and that just added to his strut. He was starting to realize he could hand a stack of old dish towels to his publisher and his publisher would do their best to turn that into a new horror novel by Stephen King. I think it was about then his substance abuse issues really started to get their claws into him, too. Whatever the case, I stopped being an avid fan, and started being a 'maybe I'll read this when I can get it out of the library, if someone else tells me it's any good'.
Around this time – the early 80s – a lot of King material started bubbling up in various places. His first Gunslinger short story came out in THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY & SCIENCE FICTION, and I was very disappointed by it. Another story followed in the next issue of F&SF, “Night of the Tiger”, and it was pretty bad too. I had absolutely loved pretty much everything in King's first collection NIGHT SHIFT, so between CUJO and this nonsense, I was really starting to rethink how much I liked King.
Then DIFFERENT SEASONS came out, and it was all great, especially “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption”. But I wasn't swayed; King's own introduction told me all four novellas had been written earlier in his career, when he was still doing fine work. When CHRISTINE came out I was like “haunted car? No thanks”. But a guy I was living with at the time said “No, it's good, give it a shot” so I did and I loved it. And as it turned out, it was the last book by Stephen King I would ever wholeheartedly love, but to this day, I think CHRISTINE may be one of his finest works every. Great characters. Great villains. Will Darnell, Wretch In Residence. The awfulness that was Roland D. LeBay. And of course, that central doomed romance... not between Leigh and Arnie, or Leigh and Dennis, but between Arnie and Dennis.
CHRISTINE was an absolute masterwork, King back fully in control of his talent and his craft. And it was the last time he ever was, as far as I can see. Every thing he's put out since has just been one disappointment after another. Some are worse than others – there's really just no excuse at all for his two exercises in towering self pity, MISERY and THE DARK HALF – but none of them manage to ever get better than, well, kinda interesting. There's a real story somewhere in INSOMNIA, but King would have needed to work to polish it and he didn't want to and no editor was going to make him. SCENES FROM A BUICK 8 has a lot of interesting stuff in it. DESPERATION and THE REGULATORS were certainly a cool idea he had no idea how to make work. It's all just a flow of trash, junk, and mediocrity. NEEDFUL THINGS seemed like some kind of gleeful revenge fantasy where he got to dole out horrible, EC Comics style come uppances to thinly disguised versions of everybody he was mad at. TOMMYKNOCKERS and DREAMCATCHER were just bewildering.
Over the past few years I've seen bits and pieces of King's work I liked, but mostly it is still disappointing. THE INSTITUTE is pointless junk. REVIVAL seems silly but that ending is pure raw high octane Lovecraftian terror and almost worth sludging through the rest of the narrative to get to. DR. SLEEP is offensively stupid; King's characterization depends on presenting narrative events from the third person-first person viewpoint of his characters, and we spent far too much time behind Jack Torrance's eyes to be willing to believe he'd ever had an affair, much less one that knocked the girl up.
One of the sections of HEARTS IN ATLANTIS, about the kid who gets involved with the guy who escaped from the Dark Tower and is being pursued by Low Men In Yellow Coats, is actually really enjoyable; it inspired me to write one of my own novellas.
Still, for the most part, if you haven't read CARRIE, SALEM'S LOT, NIGHT SHIFT, THE SHINING, THE STAND (not the uncut edition, if you can avoid that, do it, King badly needs gifted editors), THE DEAD ZONE, FIRESTARTER, CHRISTINE, and DIFFERENT SEASONS, you haven't read King's best work, or probably the finest horror novels produced in the 20th Century. I would also throw in there two Bachman books – RAGE is a much better book than it is given credit for and deserves far better treatment than to be taken out of print because it predicted a contemporary social evil, and THE RUNNING MAN is one of the best things King has ever written.
Once you get through those, though, the pickings get very slim. There's some glitter in the dirt, but it is mostly fool's gold and often it's buried in big piles of shit.
Still, a lot of great writers publish really bad books. My other favorite writer ever, Roger Zelazny, has written some truly unreadable tripe. But he also wrote LORD OF LIGHT and I'll forgive him any number of DAMNATION ALLEYS for that. King wrote SALEM'S LOT and FIRESTARTER and CHRISTINE and “Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption” and I can forgive him a great deal of fucking nonsense for giving the world those stories. (It is more difficult to forgive the truly terrible TV and movie adaptations his works seem to near universally inspire, but that is another long post entirely.)
2023.06.09 21:25 IvorFreyrsson A Hellish Offer, Ch. 2
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After sitting, Markus realized that he would need to exchange his money for the local currency. He rushed back into the airport and found an exchange service. He traded nearly a thousand dollars for yen, receiving nearly 140 thousand yen, in bills and coins. Thanking the trader, he rushed back outside to wait for his bus.
As he was waiting, he spied a taxi nearby and wondered if it would be better. He walked over and knocked on the window.
“_I’m sorry, excuse me? How much to get to Rikyuan Kyoto Nishikyogoku?_”
The driver blinked twice and looked at this rude American. “_Nine thousand. No less._”
Markus slid into the back seat and fished out ten thousand yen, and handed it to the driver.
“Thank you, sir. Today is my first day in your country, and I would just like to get to my room and sleep. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I’d like to be as refreshed as possible,_” While Markus’ Japanese wasn’t great, it _was passable, and better than most Americans.
The driver grunted an acknowledgement, and off they sped into the night. Along the way, Markus watched the lit streets for anything recognizable. Finding little beyond 7-11 gas stations and some obvious convenience stores, he quizzed the driver.
“_Excuse me? Where can I find a stylist? I’d like to look my best for my meeting._”
“_A stylist? For hair? You’re as bald as a baby. Or do you mean that mop on your face?_”
Markus looked sharply at the rearview mirror, only to see the smiling, mirthful eyes of the driver. He laughed softly. “_Yes, friend. I’d like to get this unruly mop tamed. Do you have any suggestions?_”
The driver was quiet for a moment, apparently thinking. “_One moment, please. I have to call him,_” he said as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.
“_Yes? Gen-kun? You want to make some money? Got an American here. Needs his beard taken care of professionally. Says he has an important business meeting tomorrow. Where? I dunno. Let me ask._” The driver spoke up to Markus. “_Hey, man. Where did you say this meeting was?_”
“_Uh…A place called Kitcho Arashiyama, I think. Why?_”
The driver let out a low whistle. “_Kitcho, huh? They must have some money. Hey! This offer will be amazing, man! You better take it. Not everyone can afford to eat there._”
“_Really? I think we are just meeting for tea, though. I don’t even know this man. Just got a letter out of the blue, and here I am. A lonely gaijin here in your amazingly beautiful country for the first, and probably last, time. I hope I’ve not been tricked. The gods have been merciless toward me lately,_” Markus replied.
“_Gen-kun? You hear all that? He’s going to Kitcho. Do him up right, and we might be taken care of, too! Okay. Okay. I’ll tell him. Bye, bro._”
Markus laughed softly. “_I’ll tell you what. If I land this job, or whatever it’s going to be, and it’s lucrative enough, I’ll call on you and your brother to drive me around and make sure I am as presentable as possible, and I’ll make sure you two are taken care of. How does that sound?_”
The driver looked up in the mirror, awe evident on his face. “_You would do that? A lowly cab driver like me and a hair stylist like my brother?_” he asked quietly.
“_Absolutely. I reward kindness with kindness my friend. I don’t have much right now, but if this goes well enough, I will take care of you and your brother._”
“You have a deal, American. What is your name?”
“Your English is pretty good. I am Markus Barton. And you are?”
“I am glad to meet you, Barton-san. I am Kimura Atsuki.”
“Thank you, Kimura-san.”
Atsuki grunted an acknowledgement and refocused on the road. In a few more minutes, they arrived at the small inn.
Markus got out, retrieving his bag from the back seat. Atsuki exited as well, taking a good look at this surprisingly kind, yet rude, American.
He saw a man, heavily built, with a bushy black beard that reached down to the middle of his chest. Broad shoulders that wouldn’t be out of place for a farmhand, but decidedly odd for a salaryman. A slightly too small t-shirt clung to his body, showing a bit of a beer belly, and most interesting of all, he seemed to be wearing a black skirt.
“_Barton-san? Why do you wear a woman’s skirt?_”
“_Hmm? Oh this? This isn’t a woman’s skirt. It’s called a kilt. It comes from the people of the British Isles. My family comes from that area, and once I tried it on, I was hooked. No pants for me ever again._”
“_Huh. You learn something new every day._”
“_Here is my contact information, Kimura-san. I will call on you should I take the offer. By the way, do you know of any decent restaurants or noodle shops in the area? I’m hungry._”
Atsuki laughed loudly. “_You were my last fare. I will wait, and then take my new friend out for dinner at a good place. Go. Check in, and I’ll see you back here._”
Markus smiled and nodded. He rushed inside and took care of business, being shown to a room on the ground floor. He deposited his bag inside, just past the genkan, locked the door, and returned to his new friend, hopping back in the taxi, to explore what Kyoto had to offer.
Atsuki took an appraising look at Markus. Nodding his head with a finality, he said, “_I am taking you to a good ramen-ya. You say you are hungry, and I say you will eat. Let’s go!_” He smiled and slapped the dashboard of his taxi, taking off into the night.
Atsuki and Markus chatted in a mish-mash of English and Japanese, getting to know each other as well as they could in the fifteen minute drive to the ramen-ya.
It turned out that Atsuki was recently divorced from his wife of four years and had no children. He and his brother, Gen, lived in a modest apartment not terribly far from the Rikyuan that Markus was staying at. He was an avid gamer, something of a shut-in, and had a collection of U.S coins.
“I am only missing the Arkansas _(he pronounced the final ‘S’), and the Marysland state quarters for 2022. I have the other years already. They are in mint condition and sealed in special bags so that they do not tarnish. Pretty neat, huh?_”
Markus gave him a lopsided grin. “_Have you ever met another American, Kimura-san?_” When Atsuki gave him a negative answer, Markus nodded. “_Very well. I shall help you some. I’m not really into coin collecting, but I think it’s pretty neat that you are. You’re the only person I know who is, if I’m honest. The state names are pronounced like this: Arr-can-saw and Maryland. There isn’t an ‘s’ in Maryland. I know it seems like there should be, but there isn’t. I can’t really tell you why Arkansas is said the way that it is, though. I don’t think I have either of those two quarters on me, though. Let me look._”
Markus dug around in his left pocket, pulling out the change there. He shuffled through the coins, not expecting to find anything larger than a dime, but came across a quarter. He unlocked his phone, using the screen to illuminate his findings. It was a 2022 quarter, but it was Hawai’i, not either of the ones Atsuki needed.
“_Nope. Just Hawai’i. Sorry, man._”
“_Bah. Thank you for looking, though. You’re a good man. I appreciate it very much. Ah. We are here. It may be just a little hole in the wall, but it happens to be one of my favorites. I apologize for the traffic. We would be here in half the time, had it not been bad,_” Atsuki said.
Markus smiled. “_Fifteen minutes is a short drive where I’m from. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just enjoy some ramen, yeah?_” he asked.
Atsuki nodded with a smile, and the pair walked in. Markus noticed that the shop was sparsely populated with people, and the gentleman behind the counter was relaxing with a book. Decidedly odd.
“_Yo, Komamura-san! Two bowls of tonkatsu with lots of chashu for me and my new friend, Barton-san! Firm, please. Thank you._”
Komamura grunted a reply and set about making the requested ramen, and the pair sat at the counter. Atsuki ordered a beer for both of them, and the two chatted and ate for quite some time.
At least until the shop began to get busy. When Atsuki noticed the line beginning to form outside, he paid the bill and thanked the chef.
Komamura glared at Markus for a moment, his face devoid of expression. “_Why did you bring a gaijin to my shop, punk?_”
“_This gaijin, my friend, has an interview tomorrow at Kitcho. He has promised to take care of my brother and I if he gets the job. Right, Barton-san?_” Atsuki shot back.
“_He is right, Komamura-san. If I do well, I will do what I can for the brothers. Kimura-san has been very helpful to me, and if his brother can tame this mop on my face, I’ll help him, too,_” Markus said, gazing softly at the older man.
Komamura grunted a reply and returned to his customers. As the pair were leaving, he shouted “_Good luck, Barton-san! You’re still a punk, Kimura-kun!_” and laughed loudly.
“_What was that about, Kimura-san?_” Markus asked as they got back in the car.
“_Ahhh… I might have stolen a few bowls in my younger days from old man Komamura-san. He never called the cops or anything. Just made me and my brother clean his shop when I did. He’s a good man, and I try to pay him back every time I come, but he never takes it. So, in return, I try to drive as much business to him that I can,_” Atsuki replied, somewhat embarrassed.
“_I see. Well, it is good that you are trying to correct your past wrongs. I’d say the old man has a fondness for you. You’re a good man, Kimura-san,_” Markus stated with finality.
“_Bah. I’m still a punk kid. I’m just lucky it was Komamura-san that I stole from. Other ramen-ya are said to be tied with our local gangs. I don’t ever want to step out of line again, so I stick with Komamura-san. He’s safe. The last time a gang tried to tangle with him, he sent them all running. He may not look like it now, but the old man used to be quite the fighter back in his younger days,_” Atsuki explained.
Markus nodded and yawned. He checked his phone. Good grief, it was already two in the morning. “_Kimura-san. It’s late, and I’ve been on a long flight. Plus I’ve my meeting tomorrow. I’m sorry to ask, but could you please take me back to my room?_” he asked, his face a mask of apology.
“_What? How late?_” Atsuki checked his watch, and saw the time. “_Oh shit. I should get home, too. My shift starts in four hours,_” Atsuki explained, heading back to Markus’ room.
The pair rode in relative silence for the remarkably shorter trip back. Markus exited the vehicle and turned to Atsuki. “_Thank you, Kimura-san. If tonight and tomorrow are all I have in Japan, You’ve made it all the richer. Be safe getting home,_” he said with a smile and a polite bow.
“_Let me know how it goes, yeah? I’ll send you a message so you have my number. Good luck, my friend!_” he called back, and drove off into the night.
Markus stumbled to his door, and went in. Shucking his shoes at the genkan, he stripped and fell into the surprisingly soft bed. He was asleep in moments.
Waking to his alarm always sucked. Markus reached out blindly and grabbed his phone. Shit, it was already noon. He checked his messages and saw a few from an unknown number. It was Atsuki. Apparently, he and his brother would be over in roughly forty-five minutes.
That gave Markus just enough time to shower and get dressed for his meeting. Hopefully. He scrambled for the shower, and got himself clean and dressed in thirty minutes. He was sitting there on the bed when he heard a knock at the door.
Opening the door, he saw the smiling face of Atsuki and a younger, much more shy man behind him.
“_Barton-san! I have brought my brother, Gen-kun and he will tame that mop on your face! Ha!_” Atsuki said jovially as he and his brother bowed respectfully and entered the small room.
“_I am so sorry, Barton-san. I speak no English. Forgive me,_” Gen said sorrowfully.
“_Think nothing of it, my friend. I understand you well enough. I only hope my Japanese is good enough for you,_” Markus replied with a soft smile on his face.
Gen nodded with a smile and set his bags down. He certainly carried a lot of product with him. Markus watched with interest as he set various amber-colored glass vials down, along with a bottle of yellowish oil. He also set out several tins with screw-on tops. Most interestingly, he had what looked like a spice shaker filled with coffee beans.
“_So, what do you have here?_” Markus asked the younger man.
“_I have various scented oils that I will blend for you to bring out your manly scent. It will be tailored specifically to you, Barton-san. No other may wear it and smell quite so nice,_” Gen explained.
“_Neat. So what is in the metal boxes?_”
“_Different lightly scented balms to help moisturize your “mop” of a beard. How do you want it styled?_” he asked.
“_I was thinking of a pair of braids, honestly. Or a single, thicker one if you think that would look better. I also brought some jewelry to put in it,_” Markus explained.
“_Show me._”
Markus fished in his bag and pulled out a small bag with a few metal beads in it. They all had different designs. Gen gently took it and selected a few after some moments of thought. \ \ “_These are what you will wear. Now be quiet. I need you still, calm and quiet for the next few minutes,_” Gen said to Markus.
Markus nodded, closing his eyes as Gen closed his own, centering himself.
“_I will drive you, Barton-san. You need not worry with me around!_”
“_Quiet, brother. I am concentrating._”
“Sorry.”
Gen sat still for several more minutes, then opened his eyes. He leaned in, sniffing Markus by his neck, behind his ears and even the top of his head. He lifted his arms and smelled his armpits, his back and his chest. Markus was certain he’d just been violated, but was too intrigued to say anything.
Wordlessly, Gen turned to his vials and opened three of them. Inhaling the aroma of the coffee first, he sniffed each vial in turn. Shaking his head, he closed one, and selected another. This pattern went on with periodic sniffs from the coffee until Gen had three vials in front of him. Taking an empty vial from another bag, he opened it. Wordlessly he dripped several droplets of the various scented oils into the empty vial, then filled it from the bottle of yellowish oil. He shook this concoction up, thoroughly mixing the blend.
Next, he opened each of the tins in turn, sniffing them and rejecting a few. In the end, he had two left, and proffered them to Markus.
“_Choose._”
Markus, confused, took first one, and then the other, smelling each. “_What does the oil smell like? Am I to pick one that compliments it?_” he asked.
“_No. They both do that. Which do you prefer?_” was the answer he received.
“_This one, then,_” Markus said, handing one to Gen.
Gen took the small tin and set it aside, and then concentrated on Markus’ beard. It was freshly cleaned and slightly damp. Gen took a towel and gently dried Markus’ face. Afterwards, he generously applied the oil to his hands and massaged it into Markus’ face. Markus recoiled slightly from the unusual scent, then gave a nod of approval.
Gen grinned. His gift had yet to let him down. He oiled his clients face, then massaged the balm into his hair. Such a lovely beard. Long, thick and curly. Just as it should be. Once his beard was tamed, he put a pair of braids in it, each hanging down from roughly the corners of his mouth. Once he was satisfied with their length and evenness, he slipped a barrel bead over each braid. They had a curious symbol on them, but his favorite were the pair of oni skulls the man had, that he slipped on under the barrel beads. These were surely the secret to his amazing looks and presence. To have a pair of oni looking after you was especially noteworthy. In his mind, at least.
Finishing his work, he handed Markus a mirror. Markus examined himself and smiled. “_This is perfect, my friend. Let’s get the final ties on them, and we can head out!_” Markus exclaimed as he looked at his phone. It was nearing three-thirty. How had two hours elapsed already?
Gen finished the work in front of him and nodded. “_I can do no more. I would surely be treading upon God’s territory if I tried. Get him to his meeting, Brother. I have a good feeling!_” Gen exclaimed.
Markus thanked the younger man and pressed a few bills into his hand. He rose, slipping on his new boots, and together with Atsuki, walked out to the car.
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After sitting, Markus realized that he would need to exchange his money for the local currency. He rushed back into the airport and found an exchange service. He traded nearly a thousand dollars for yen, receiving nearly 140 thousand yen, in bills and coins. Thanking the trader, he rushed back outside to wait for his bus.
As he was waiting, he spied a taxi nearby and wondered if it would be better. He walked over and knocked on the window.
“_I’m sorry, excuse me? How much to get to Rikyuan Kyoto Nishikyogoku?_”
The driver blinked twice and looked at this rude American. “_Nine thousand. No less._”
Markus slid into the back seat and fished out ten thousand yen, and handed it to the driver.
“Thank you, sir. Today is my first day in your country, and I would just like to get to my room and sleep. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I’d like to be as refreshed as possible,_” While Markus’ Japanese wasn’t great, it _was passable, and better than most Americans.
The driver grunted an acknowledgement, and off they sped into the night. Along the way, Markus watched the lit streets for anything recognizable. Finding little beyond 7-11 gas stations and some obvious convenience stores, he quizzed the driver.
“_Excuse me? Where can I find a stylist? I’d like to look my best for my meeting._”
“_A stylist? For hair? You’re as bald as a baby. Or do you mean that mop on your face?_”
Markus looked sharply at the rearview mirror, only to see the smiling, mirthful eyes of the driver. He laughed softly. “_Yes, friend. I’d like to get this unruly mop tamed. Do you have any suggestions?_”
The driver was quiet for a moment, apparently thinking. “_One moment, please. I have to call him,_” he said as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.
“_Yes? Gen-kun? You want to make some money? Got an American here. Needs his beard taken care of professionally. Says he has an important business meeting tomorrow. Where? I dunno. Let me ask._” The driver spoke up to Markus. “_Hey, man. Where did you say this meeting was?_”
“_Uh…A place called Kitcho Arashiyama, I think. Why?_”
The driver let out a low whistle. “_Kitcho, huh? They must have some money. Hey! This offer will be amazing, man! You better take it. Not everyone can afford to eat there._”
“_Really? I think we are just meeting for tea, though. I don’t even know this man. Just got a letter out of the blue, and here I am. A lonely gaijin here in your amazingly beautiful country for the first, and probably last, time. I hope I’ve not been tricked. The gods have been merciless toward me lately,_” Markus replied.
“_Gen-kun? You hear all that? He’s going to Kitcho. Do him up right, and we might be taken care of, too! Okay. Okay. I’ll tell him. Bye, bro._”
Markus laughed softly. “_I’ll tell you what. If I land this job, or whatever it’s going to be, and it’s lucrative enough, I’ll call on you and your brother to drive me around and make sure I am as presentable as possible, and I’ll make sure you two are taken care of. How does that sound?_”
The driver looked up in the mirror, awe evident on his face. “_You would do that? A lowly cab driver like me and a hair stylist like my brother?_” he asked quietly.
“_Absolutely. I reward kindness with kindness my friend. I don’t have much right now, but if this goes well enough, I will take care of you and your brother._”
“You have a deal, American. What is your name?”
“Your English is pretty good. I am Markus Barton. And you are?”
“I am glad to meet you, Barton-san. I am Kimura Atsuki.”
“Thank you, Kimura-san.”
Atsuki grunted an acknowledgement and refocused on the road. In a few more minutes, they arrived at the small inn.
Markus got out, retrieving his bag from the back seat. Atsuki exited as well, taking a good look at this surprisingly kind, yet rude, American.
He saw a man, heavily built, with a bushy black beard that reached down to the middle of his chest. Broad shoulders that wouldn’t be out of place for a farmhand, but decidedly odd for a salaryman. A slightly too small t-shirt clung to his body, showing a bit of a beer belly, and most interesting of all, he seemed to be wearing a black skirt.
“_Barton-san? Why do you wear a woman’s skirt?_”
“_Hmm? Oh this? This isn’t a woman’s skirt. It’s called a kilt. It comes from the people of the British Isles. My family comes from that area, and once I tried it on, I was hooked. No pants for me ever again._”
“_Huh. You learn something new every day._”
“_Here is my contact information, Kimura-san. I will call on you should I take the offer. By the way, do you know of any decent restaurants or noodle shops in the area? I’m hungry._”
Atsuki laughed loudly. “_You were my last fare. I will wait, and then take my new friend out for dinner at a good place. Go. Check in, and I’ll see you back here._”
Markus smiled and nodded. He rushed inside and took care of business, being shown to a room on the ground floor. He deposited his bag inside, just past the genkan, locked the door, and returned to his new friend, hopping back in the taxi, to explore what Kyoto had to offer.
Atsuki took an appraising look at Markus. Nodding his head with a finality, he said, “_I am taking you to a good ramen-ya. You say you are hungry, and I say you will eat. Let’s go!_” He smiled and slapped the dashboard of his taxi, taking off into the night.
Atsuki and Markus chatted in a mish-mash of English and Japanese, getting to know each other as well as they could in the fifteen minute drive to the ramen-ya.
It turned out that Atsuki was recently divorced from his wife of four years and had no children. He and his brother, Gen, lived in a modest apartment not terribly far from the Rikyuan that Markus was staying at. He was an avid gamer, something of a shut-in, and had a collection of U.S coins.
“I am only missing the Arkansas _(he pronounced the final ‘S’), and the Marysland state quarters for 2022. I have the other years already. They are in mint condition and sealed in special bags so that they do not tarnish. Pretty neat, huh?_”
Markus gave him a lopsided grin. “_Have you ever met another American, Kimura-san?_” When Atsuki gave him a negative answer, Markus nodded. “_Very well. I shall help you some. I’m not really into coin collecting, but I think it’s pretty neat that you are. You’re the only person I know who is, if I’m honest. The state names are pronounced like this: Arr-can-saw and Maryland. There isn’t an ‘s’ in Maryland. I know it seems like there should be, but there isn’t. I can’t really tell you why Arkansas is said the way that it is, though. I don’t think I have either of those two quarters on me, though. Let me look._”
Markus dug around in his left pocket, pulling out the change there. He shuffled through the coins, not expecting to find anything larger than a dime, but came across a quarter. He unlocked his phone, using the screen to illuminate his findings. It was a 2022 quarter, but it was Hawai’i, not either of the ones Atsuki needed.
“_Nope. Just Hawai’i. Sorry, man._”
“_Bah. Thank you for looking, though. You’re a good man. I appreciate it very much. Ah. We are here. It may be just a little hole in the wall, but it happens to be one of my favorites. I apologize for the traffic. We would be here in half the time, had it not been bad,_” Atsuki said.
Markus smiled. “_Fifteen minutes is a short drive where I’m from. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just enjoy some ramen, yeah?_” he asked.
Atsuki nodded with a smile, and the pair walked in. Markus noticed that the shop was sparsely populated with people, and the gentleman behind the counter was relaxing with a book. Decidedly odd.
“_Yo, Komamura-san! Two bowls of tonkatsu with lots of chashu for me and my new friend, Barton-san! Firm, please. Thank you._”
Komamura grunted a reply and set about making the requested ramen, and the pair sat at the counter. Atsuki ordered a beer for both of them, and the two chatted and ate for quite some time.
At least until the shop began to get busy. When Atsuki noticed the line beginning to form outside, he paid the bill and thanked the chef.
Komamura glared at Markus for a moment, his face devoid of expression. “_Why did you bring a gaijin to my shop, punk?_”
“_This gaijin, my friend, has an interview tomorrow at Kitcho. He has promised to take care of my brother and I if he gets the job. Right, Barton-san?_” Atsuki shot back.
“_He is right, Komamura-san. If I do well, I will do what I can for the brothers. Kimura-san has been very helpful to me, and if his brother can tame this mop on my face, I’ll help him, too,_” Markus said, gazing softly at the older man.
Komamura grunted a reply and returned to his customers. As the pair were leaving, he shouted “_Good luck, Barton-san! You’re still a punk, Kimura-kun!_” and laughed loudly.
“_What was that about, Kimura-san?_” Markus asked as they got back in the car.
“_Ahhh… I might have stolen a few bowls in my younger days from old man Komamura-san. He never called the cops or anything. Just made me and my brother clean his shop when I did. He’s a good man, and I try to pay him back every time I come, but he never takes it. So, in return, I try to drive as much business to him that I can,_” Atsuki replied, somewhat embarrassed.
“_I see. Well, it is good that you are trying to correct your past wrongs. I’d say the old man has a fondness for you. You’re a good man, Kimura-san,_” Markus stated with finality.
“_Bah. I’m still a punk kid. I’m just lucky it was Komamura-san that I stole from. Other ramen-ya are said to be tied with our local gangs. I don’t ever want to step out of line again, so I stick with Komamura-san. He’s safe. The last time a gang tried to tangle with him, he sent them all running. He may not look like it now, but the old man used to be quite the fighter back in his younger days,_” Atsuki explained.
Markus nodded and yawned. He checked his phone. Good grief, it was already two in the morning. “_Kimura-san. It’s late, and I’ve been on a long flight. Plus I’ve my meeting tomorrow. I’m sorry to ask, but could you please take me back to my room?_” he asked, his face a mask of apology.
“_What? How late?_” Atsuki checked his watch, and saw the time. “_Oh shit. I should get home, too. My shift starts in four hours,_” Atsuki explained, heading back to Markus’ room.
The pair rode in relative silence for the remarkably shorter trip back. Markus exited the vehicle and turned to Atsuki. “_Thank you, Kimura-san. If tonight and tomorrow are all I have in Japan, You’ve made it all the richer. Be safe getting home,_” he said with a smile and a polite bow.
“_Let me know how it goes, yeah? I’ll send you a message so you have my number. Good luck, my friend!_” he called back, and drove off into the night.
Markus stumbled to his door, and went in. Shucking his shoes at the genkan, he stripped and fell into the surprisingly soft bed. He was asleep in moments.
That gave Markus just enough time to shower and get dressed for his meeting. Hopefully. He scrambled for the shower, and got himself clean and dressed in thirty minutes. He was sitting there on the bed when he heard a knock at the door.
Opening the door, he saw the smiling face of Atsuki and a younger, much more shy man behind him.
“_Barton-san! I have brought my brother, Gen-kun and he will tame that mop on your face! Ha!_” Atsuki said jovially as he and his brother bowed respectfully and entered the small room.
“_I am so sorry, Barton-san. I speak no English. Forgive me,_” Gen said sorrowfully.
“_Think nothing of it, my friend. I understand you well enough. I only hope my Japanese is good enough for you,_” Markus replied with a soft smile on his face.
Gen nodded with a smile and set his bags down. He certainly carried a lot of product with him. Markus watched with interest as he set various amber-colored glass vials down, along with a bottle of yellowish oil. He also set out several tins with screw-on tops. Most interestingly, he had what looked like a spice shaker filled with coffee beans.
“_So, what do you have here?_” Markus asked the younger man.
“_I have various scented oils that I will blend for you to bring out your manly scent. It will be tailored specifically to you, Barton-san. No other may wear it and smell quite so nice,_” Gen explained.
“_Neat. So what is in the metal boxes?_”
“_Different lightly scented balms to help moisturize your “mop” of a beard. How do you want it styled?_” he asked.
“_I was thinking of a pair of braids, honestly. Or a single, thicker one if you think that would look better. I also brought some jewelry to put in it,_” Markus explained.
“_Show me._”
Markus fished in his bag and pulled out a small bag with a few metal beads in it. They all had different designs. Gen gently took it and selected a few after some moments of thought. \ \ “_These are what you will wear. Now be quiet. I need you still, calm and quiet for the next few minutes,_” Gen said to Markus.
Markus nodded, closing his eyes as Gen closed his own, centering himself.
“_I will drive you, Barton-san. You need not worry with me around!_”
“_Quiet, brother. I am concentrating._”
“Sorry.”
Gen sat still for several more minutes, then opened his eyes. He leaned in, sniffing Markus by his neck, behind his ears and even the top of his head. He lifted his arms and smelled his armpits, his back and his chest. Markus was certain he’d just been violated, but was too intrigued to say anything.
Wordlessly, Gen turned to his vials and opened three of them. Inhaling the aroma of the coffee first, he sniffed each vial in turn. Shaking his head, he closed one, and selected another. This pattern went on with periodic sniffs from the coffee until Gen had three vials in front of him. Taking an empty vial from another bag, he opened it. Wordlessly he dripped several droplets of the various scented oils into the empty vial, then filled it from the bottle of yellowish oil. He shook this concoction up, thoroughly mixing the blend.
Next, he opened each of the tins in turn, sniffing them and rejecting a few. In the end, he had two left, and proffered them to Markus.
“_Choose._”
Markus, confused, took first one, and then the other, smelling each. “_What does the oil smell like? Am I to pick one that compliments it?_” he asked.
“_No. They both do that. Which do you prefer?_” was the answer he received.
“_This one, then,_” Markus said, handing one to Gen.
Gen took the small tin and set it aside, and then concentrated on Markus’ beard. It was freshly cleaned and slightly damp. Gen took a towel and gently dried Markus’ face. Afterwards, he generously applied the oil to his hands and massaged it into Markus’ face. Markus recoiled slightly from the unusual scent, then gave a nod of approval.
Gen grinned. His gift had yet to let him down. He oiled his clients face, then massaged the balm into his hair. Such a lovely beard. Long, thick and curly. Just as it should be. Once his beard was tamed, he put a pair of braids in it, each hanging down from roughly the corners of his mouth. Once he was satisfied with their length and evenness, he slipped a barrel bead over each braid. They had a curious symbol on them, but his favorite were the pair of oni skulls the man had, that he slipped on under the barrel beads. These were surely the secret to his amazing looks and presence. To have a pair of oni looking after you was especially noteworthy. In his mind, at least.
Finishing his work, he handed Markus a mirror. Markus examined himself and smiled. “_This is perfect, my friend. Let’s get the final ties on them, and we can head out!_” Markus exclaimed as he looked at his phone. It was nearing three-thirty. How had two hours elapsed already?
Gen finished the work in front of him and nodded. “_I can do no more. I would surely be treading upon God’s territory if I tried. Get him to his meeting, Brother. I have a good feeling!_” Gen exclaimed.
Markus thanked the younger man and pressed a few bills into his hand. He rose, slipping on his new boots, and together with Atsuki, walked out to the car.
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2023.06.09 21:25 IvorFreyrsson A Hellish Offer, Ch. 2
After sitting, Markus realized that he would need to exchange his money for the local currency. He rushed back into the airport and found an exchange service. He traded nearly a thousand dollars for yen, receiving nearly 140 thousand yen, in bills and coins. Thanking the trader, he rushed back outside to wait for his bus.
As he was waiting, he spied a taxi nearby and wondered if it would be better. He walked over and knocked on the window.
“I’m sorry, excuse me? How much to get to Rikyuan Kyoto Nishikyogoku?”
The driver blinked twice and looked at this rude American. “Nine thousand. No less.”
Markus slid into the back seat and fished out ten thousand yen, and handed it to the driver.
“Thank you, sir. Today is my first day in your country, and I would just like to get to my room and sleep. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I’d like to be as refreshed as possible,” While Markus’ Japanese wasn’t great, it was passable, and better than most Americans.
The driver grunted an acknowledgement, and off they sped into the night. Along the way, Markus watched the lit streets for anything recognizable. Finding little beyond 7-11 gas stations and some obvious convenience stores, he quizzed the driver.
“Excuse me? Where can I find a stylist? I’d like to look my best for my meeting.”
“A stylist? For hair? You’re as bald as a baby. Or do you mean that mop on your face?”
Markus looked sharply at the rearview mirror, only to see the smiling, mirthful eyes of the driver. He laughed softly. “Yes, friend. I’d like to get this unruly mop tamed. Do you have any suggestions?”
The driver was quiet for a moment, apparently thinking. “One moment, please. I have to call him,” he said as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.
“Yes? Gen-kun? You want to make some money? Got an American here. Needs his beard taken care of professionally. Says he has an important business meeting tomorrow. Where? I dunno. Let me ask.” The driver spoke up to Markus. “Hey, man. Where did you say this meeting was?”
“Uh…A place called Kitcho Arashiyama, I think. Why?”
The driver let out a low whistle. “Kitcho, huh? They must have some money. Hey! This offer will be amazing, man! You better take it. Not everyone can afford to eat there.”
“Really? I think we are just meeting for tea, though. I don’t even know this man. Just got a letter out of the blue, and here I am. A lonely gaijin here in your amazingly beautiful country for the first, and probably last, time. I hope I’ve not been tricked. The gods have been merciless toward me lately,” Markus replied.
“Gen-kun? You hear all that? He’s going to Kitcho. Do him up right, and we might be taken care of, too! Okay. Okay. I’ll tell him. Bye, bro.”
Markus laughed softly. “I’ll tell you what. If I land this job, or whatever it’s going to be, and it’s lucrative enough, I’ll call on you and your brother to drive me around and make sure I am as presentable as possible, and I’ll make sure you two are taken care of. How does that sound?”
The driver looked up in the mirror, awe evident on his face. “You would do that? A lowly cab driver like me and a hair stylist like my brother?” he asked quietly.
“Absolutely. I reward kindness with kindness my friend. I don’t have much right now, but if this goes well enough, I will take care of you and your brother.”
“You have a deal, American. What is your name?”
“Your English is pretty good. I am Markus Barton. And you are?”
“I am glad to meet you, Barton-san. I am Kimura Atsuki.”
“Thank you, Kimura-san.”
Atsuki grunted an acknowledgement and refocused on the road. In a few more minutes, they arrived at the small inn.
Markus got out, retrieving his bag from the back seat. Atsuki exited as well, taking a good look at this surprisingly kind, yet rude, American.
He saw a man, heavily built, with a bushy black beard that reached down to the middle of his chest. Broad shoulders that wouldn’t be out of place for a farmhand, but decidedly odd for a salaryman. A slightly too small t-shirt clung to his body, showing a bit of a beer belly, and most interesting of all, he seemed to be wearing a black skirt.
“Barton-san? Why do you wear a woman’s skirt?”
“Hmm? Oh this? This isn’t a woman’s skirt. It’s called a kilt. It comes from the people of the British Isles. My family comes from that area, and once I tried it on, I was hooked. No pants for me ever again.”
“Huh. You learn something new every day.”
“Here is my contact information, Kimura-san. I will call on you should I take the offer. By the way, do you know of any decent restaurants or noodle shops in the area? I’m hungry.”
Atsuki laughed loudly. “You were my last fare. I will wait, and then take my new friend out for dinner at a good place. Go. Check in, and I’ll see you back here.”
Markus smiled and nodded. He rushed inside and took care of business, being shown to a room on the ground floor. He deposited his bag inside, just past the genkan, locked the door, and returned to his new friend, hopping back in the taxi, to explore what Kyoto had to offer.
Atsuki took an appraising look at Markus. Nodding his head with a finality, he said, “I am taking you to a good ramen-ya. You say you are hungry, and I say you will eat. Let’s go!” He smiled and slapped the dashboard of his taxi, taking off into the night.
Atsuki and Markus chatted in a mish-mash of English and Japanese, getting to know each other as well as they could in the fifteen minute drive to the ramen-ya.
It turned out that Atsuki was recently divorced from his wife of four years and had no children. He and his brother, Gen, lived in a modest apartment not terribly far from the Rikyuan that Markus was staying at. He was an avid gamer, something of a shut-in, and had a collection of U.S coins.
“I am only missing the Arkansas (he pronounced the final ‘S’), and the Marysland state quarters for 2022. I have the other years already. They are in mint condition and sealed in special bags so that they do not tarnish. Pretty neat, huh?”
Markus gave him a lopsided grin. “Have you ever met another American, Kimura-san?” When Atsuki gave him a negative answer, Markus nodded. “Very well. I shall help you some. I’m not really into coin collecting, but I think it’s pretty neat that you are. You’re the only person I know who is, if I’m honest. The state names are pronounced like this: Arr-can-saw and Maryland. There isn’t an ‘s’ in Maryland. I know it seems like there should be, but there isn’t. I can’t really tell you why Arkansas is said the way that it is, though. I don’t think I have either of those two quarters on me, though. Let me look.”
Markus dug around in his left pocket, pulling out the change there. He shuffled through the coins, not expecting to find anything larger than a dime, but came across a quarter. He unlocked his phone, using the screen to illuminate his findings. It was a 2022 quarter, but it was Hawai’i, not either of the ones Atsuki needed.
“Nope. Just Hawai’i. Sorry, man.”
“Bah. Thank you for looking, though. You’re a good man. I appreciate it very much. Ah. We are here. It may be just a little hole in the wall, but it happens to be one of my favorites. I apologize for the traffic. We would be here in half the time, had it not been bad,” Atsuki said.
Markus smiled. “Fifteen minutes is a short drive where I’m from. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just enjoy some ramen, yeah?” he asked.
Atsuki nodded with a smile, and the pair walked in. Markus noticed that the shop was sparsely populated with people, and the gentleman behind the counter was relaxing with a book. Decidedly odd.
“Yo, Komamura-san! Two bowls of tonkatsu with lots of chashu for me and my new friend, Barton-san! Firm, please. Thank you.”
Komamura grunted a reply and set about making the requested ramen, and the pair sat at the counter. Atsuki ordered a beer for both of them, and the two chatted and ate for quite some time.
At least until the shop began to get busy. When Atsuki noticed the line beginning to form outside, he paid the bill and thanked the chef.
Komamura glared at Markus for a moment, his face devoid of expression. “Why did you bring a gaijin to my shop, punk?”
“This gaijin, my friend, has an interview tomorrow at Kitcho. He has promised to take care of my brother and I if he gets the job. Right, Barton-san?” Atsuki shot back.
“He is right, Komamura-san. If I do well, I will do what I can for the brothers. Kimura-san has been very helpful to me, and if his brother can tame this mop on my face, I’ll help him, too,” Markus said, gazing softly at the older man.
Komamura grunted a reply and returned to his customers. As the pair were leaving, he shouted “Good luck, Barton-san! You’re still a punk, Kimura-kun!” and laughed loudly.
“What was that about, Kimura-san?” Markus asked as they got back in the car.
“Ahhh… I might have stolen a few bowls in my younger days from old man Komamura-san. He never called the cops or anything. Just made me and my brother clean his shop when I did. He’s a good man, and I try to pay him back every time I come, but he never takes it. So, in return, I try to drive as much business to him that I can,” Atsuki replied, somewhat embarrassed.
“I see. Well, it is good that you are trying to correct your past wrongs. I’d say the old man has a fondness for you. You’re a good man, Kimura-san,” Markus stated with finality.
“Bah. I’m still a punk kid. I’m just lucky it was Komamura-san that I stole from. Other ramen-ya are said to be tied with our local gangs. I don’t ever want to step out of line again, so I stick with Komamura-san. He’s safe. The last time a gang tried to tangle with him, he sent them all running. He may not look like it now, but the old man used to be quite the fighter back in his younger days,” Atsuki explained.
Markus nodded and yawned. He checked his phone. Good grief, it was already two in the morning. “Kimura-san. It’s late, and I’ve been on a long flight. Plus I’ve my meeting tomorrow. I’m sorry to ask, but could you please take me back to my room?” he asked, his face a mask of apology.
“What? How late?” Atsuki checked his watch, and saw the time. “Oh shit. I should get home, too. My shift starts in four hours,” Atsuki explained, heading back to Markus’ room.
The pair rode in relative silence for the remarkably shorter trip back. Markus exited the vehicle and turned to Atsuki. “Thank you, Kimura-san. If tonight and tomorrow are all I have in Japan, You’ve made it all the richer. Be safe getting home,” he said with a smile and a polite bow.
“Let me know how it goes, yeah? I’ll send you a message so you have my number. Good luck, my friend!” he called back, and drove off into the night.
Markus stumbled to his door, and went in. Shucking his shoes at the genkan, he stripped and fell into the surprisingly soft bed. He was asleep in moments.
**********
Waking to his alarm always sucked. Markus reached out blindly and grabbed his phone. Shit, it was already noon. He checked his messages and saw a few from an unknown number. It was Atsuki. Apparently, he and his brother would be over in roughly forty-five minutes.
That gave Markus just enough time to shower and get dressed for his meeting. Hopefully. He scrambled for the shower, and got himself clean and dressed in thirty minutes. He was sitting there on the bed when he heard a knock at the door.
Opening the door, he saw the smiling face of Atsuki and a younger, much more shy man behind him.
“Barton-san! I have brought my brother, Gen-kun and he will tame that mop on your face! Ha!” Atsuki said jovially as he and his brother bowed respectfully and entered the small room.
“I am so sorry, Barton-san. I speak no English. Forgive me,” Gen said sorrowfully.
“Think nothing of it, my friend. I understand you well enough. I only hope my Japanese is good enough for you,” Markus replied with a soft smile on his face.
Gen nodded with a smile and set his bags down. He certainly carried a lot of product with him. Markus watched with interest as he set various amber-colored glass vials down, along with a bottle of yellowish oil. He also set out several tins with screw-on tops. Most interestingly, he had what looked like a spice shaker filled with coffee beans.
“So, what do you have here?” Markus asked the younger man.
“I have various scented oils that I will blend for you to bring out your manly scent. It will be tailored specifically to you, Barton-san. No other may wear it and smell quite so nice,” Gen explained.
“Neat. So what is in the metal boxes?”
“Different lightly scented balms to help moisturize your “mop” of a beard. How do you want it styled?” he asked.
“I was thinking of a pair of braids, honestly. Or a single, thicker one if you think that would look better. I also brought some jewelry to put in it,” Markus explained.
“Show me.”
Markus fished in his bag and pulled out a small bag with a few metal beads in it. They all had different designs. Gen gently took it and selected a few after some moments of thought. “These are what you will wear. Now be quiet. I need you still, calm and quiet for the next few minutes,” Gen said to Markus.
Markus nodded, closing his eyes as Gen closed his own, centering himself.
“I will drive you, Barton-san. You need not worry with me around!”
“Quiet, brother. I am concentrating.”
“Sorry.”
Gen sat still for several more minutes, then opened his eyes. He leaned in, sniffing Markus by his neck, behind his ears and even the top of his head. He lifted his arms and smelled his armpits, his back and his chest. Markus was certain he’d just been violated, but was too intrigued to say anything.
Wordlessly, Gen turned to his vials and opened three of them. Inhaling the aroma of the coffee first, he sniffed each vial in turn. Shaking his head, he closed one, and selected another. This pattern went on with periodic sniffs from the coffee until Gen had three vials in front of him. Taking an empty vial from another bag, he opened it. Wordlessly he dripped several droplets of the various scented oils into the empty vial, then filled it from the bottle of yellowish oil. He shook this concoction up, thoroughly mixing the blend.
Next, he opened each of the tins in turn, sniffing them and rejecting a few. In the end, he had two left, and proffered them to Markus.
“Choose.”
Markus, confused, took first one, and then the other, smelling each. “What does the oil smell like? Am I to pick one that compliments it?” he asked.
“No. They both do that. Which do you prefer?” was the answer he received.
“This one, then,” Markus said, handing one to Gen.
Gen took the small tin and set it aside, and then concentrated on Markus’ beard. It was freshly cleaned and slightly damp. Gen took a towel and gently dried Markus’ face. Afterwards, he generously applied the oil to his hands and massaged it into Markus’ face. Markus recoiled slightly from the unusual scent, then gave a nod of approval.
Gen grinned. His gift had yet to let him down. He oiled his clients face, then massaged the balm into his hair. Such a lovely beard. Long, thick and curly. Just as it should be. Once his beard was tamed, he put a pair of braids in it, each hanging down from roughly the corners of his mouth. Once he was satisfied with their length and evenness, he slipped a barrel bead over each braid. They had a curious symbol on them, but his favorite were the pair of oni skulls the man had, that he slipped on under the barrel beads. These were surely the secret to his amazing looks and presence. To have a pair of oni looking after you was especially noteworthy. In his mind, at least.
Finishing his work, he handed Markus a mirror. Markus examined himself and smiled. “This is perfect, my friend. Let’s get the final ties on them, and we can head out!” Markus exclaimed as he looked at his phone. It was nearing three-thirty. How had two hours elapsed already?
Gen finished the work in front of him and nodded. “I can do no more. I would surely be treading upon God’s territory if I tried. Get him to his meeting, Brother. I have a good feeling!” Gen exclaimed.
Markus thanked the younger man and pressed a few bills into his hand. He rose, slipping on his new boots, and together with Atsuki, walked out to the car.
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As he was waiting, he spied a taxi nearby and wondered if it would be better. He walked over and knocked on the window.
“I’m sorry, excuse me? How much to get to Rikyuan Kyoto Nishikyogoku?”
The driver blinked twice and looked at this rude American. “Nine thousand. No less.”
Markus slid into the back seat and fished out ten thousand yen, and handed it to the driver.
“Thank you, sir. Today is my first day in your country, and I would just like to get to my room and sleep. I have an important meeting tomorrow, and I’d like to be as refreshed as possible,” While Markus’ Japanese wasn’t great, it was passable, and better than most Americans.
The driver grunted an acknowledgement, and off they sped into the night. Along the way, Markus watched the lit streets for anything recognizable. Finding little beyond 7-11 gas stations and some obvious convenience stores, he quizzed the driver.
“Excuse me? Where can I find a stylist? I’d like to look my best for my meeting.”
“A stylist? For hair? You’re as bald as a baby. Or do you mean that mop on your face?”
Markus looked sharply at the rearview mirror, only to see the smiling, mirthful eyes of the driver. He laughed softly. “Yes, friend. I’d like to get this unruly mop tamed. Do you have any suggestions?”
The driver was quiet for a moment, apparently thinking. “One moment, please. I have to call him,” he said as he pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.
“Yes? Gen-kun? You want to make some money? Got an American here. Needs his beard taken care of professionally. Says he has an important business meeting tomorrow. Where? I dunno. Let me ask.” The driver spoke up to Markus. “Hey, man. Where did you say this meeting was?”
“Uh…A place called Kitcho Arashiyama, I think. Why?”
The driver let out a low whistle. “Kitcho, huh? They must have some money. Hey! This offer will be amazing, man! You better take it. Not everyone can afford to eat there.”
“Really? I think we are just meeting for tea, though. I don’t even know this man. Just got a letter out of the blue, and here I am. A lonely gaijin here in your amazingly beautiful country for the first, and probably last, time. I hope I’ve not been tricked. The gods have been merciless toward me lately,” Markus replied.
“Gen-kun? You hear all that? He’s going to Kitcho. Do him up right, and we might be taken care of, too! Okay. Okay. I’ll tell him. Bye, bro.”
Markus laughed softly. “I’ll tell you what. If I land this job, or whatever it’s going to be, and it’s lucrative enough, I’ll call on you and your brother to drive me around and make sure I am as presentable as possible, and I’ll make sure you two are taken care of. How does that sound?”
The driver looked up in the mirror, awe evident on his face. “You would do that? A lowly cab driver like me and a hair stylist like my brother?” he asked quietly.
“Absolutely. I reward kindness with kindness my friend. I don’t have much right now, but if this goes well enough, I will take care of you and your brother.”
“You have a deal, American. What is your name?”
“Your English is pretty good. I am Markus Barton. And you are?”
“I am glad to meet you, Barton-san. I am Kimura Atsuki.”
“Thank you, Kimura-san.”
Atsuki grunted an acknowledgement and refocused on the road. In a few more minutes, they arrived at the small inn.
Markus got out, retrieving his bag from the back seat. Atsuki exited as well, taking a good look at this surprisingly kind, yet rude, American.
He saw a man, heavily built, with a bushy black beard that reached down to the middle of his chest. Broad shoulders that wouldn’t be out of place for a farmhand, but decidedly odd for a salaryman. A slightly too small t-shirt clung to his body, showing a bit of a beer belly, and most interesting of all, he seemed to be wearing a black skirt.
“Barton-san? Why do you wear a woman’s skirt?”
“Hmm? Oh this? This isn’t a woman’s skirt. It’s called a kilt. It comes from the people of the British Isles. My family comes from that area, and once I tried it on, I was hooked. No pants for me ever again.”
“Huh. You learn something new every day.”
“Here is my contact information, Kimura-san. I will call on you should I take the offer. By the way, do you know of any decent restaurants or noodle shops in the area? I’m hungry.”
Atsuki laughed loudly. “You were my last fare. I will wait, and then take my new friend out for dinner at a good place. Go. Check in, and I’ll see you back here.”
Markus smiled and nodded. He rushed inside and took care of business, being shown to a room on the ground floor. He deposited his bag inside, just past the genkan, locked the door, and returned to his new friend, hopping back in the taxi, to explore what Kyoto had to offer.
Atsuki took an appraising look at Markus. Nodding his head with a finality, he said, “I am taking you to a good ramen-ya. You say you are hungry, and I say you will eat. Let’s go!” He smiled and slapped the dashboard of his taxi, taking off into the night.
Atsuki and Markus chatted in a mish-mash of English and Japanese, getting to know each other as well as they could in the fifteen minute drive to the ramen-ya.
It turned out that Atsuki was recently divorced from his wife of four years and had no children. He and his brother, Gen, lived in a modest apartment not terribly far from the Rikyuan that Markus was staying at. He was an avid gamer, something of a shut-in, and had a collection of U.S coins.
“I am only missing the Arkansas (he pronounced the final ‘S’), and the Marysland state quarters for 2022. I have the other years already. They are in mint condition and sealed in special bags so that they do not tarnish. Pretty neat, huh?”
Markus gave him a lopsided grin. “Have you ever met another American, Kimura-san?” When Atsuki gave him a negative answer, Markus nodded. “Very well. I shall help you some. I’m not really into coin collecting, but I think it’s pretty neat that you are. You’re the only person I know who is, if I’m honest. The state names are pronounced like this: Arr-can-saw and Maryland. There isn’t an ‘s’ in Maryland. I know it seems like there should be, but there isn’t. I can’t really tell you why Arkansas is said the way that it is, though. I don’t think I have either of those two quarters on me, though. Let me look.”
Markus dug around in his left pocket, pulling out the change there. He shuffled through the coins, not expecting to find anything larger than a dime, but came across a quarter. He unlocked his phone, using the screen to illuminate his findings. It was a 2022 quarter, but it was Hawai’i, not either of the ones Atsuki needed.
“Nope. Just Hawai’i. Sorry, man.”
“Bah. Thank you for looking, though. You’re a good man. I appreciate it very much. Ah. We are here. It may be just a little hole in the wall, but it happens to be one of my favorites. I apologize for the traffic. We would be here in half the time, had it not been bad,” Atsuki said.
Markus smiled. “Fifteen minutes is a short drive where I’m from. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just enjoy some ramen, yeah?” he asked.
Atsuki nodded with a smile, and the pair walked in. Markus noticed that the shop was sparsely populated with people, and the gentleman behind the counter was relaxing with a book. Decidedly odd.
“Yo, Komamura-san! Two bowls of tonkatsu with lots of chashu for me and my new friend, Barton-san! Firm, please. Thank you.”
Komamura grunted a reply and set about making the requested ramen, and the pair sat at the counter. Atsuki ordered a beer for both of them, and the two chatted and ate for quite some time.
At least until the shop began to get busy. When Atsuki noticed the line beginning to form outside, he paid the bill and thanked the chef.
Komamura glared at Markus for a moment, his face devoid of expression. “Why did you bring a gaijin to my shop, punk?”
“This gaijin, my friend, has an interview tomorrow at Kitcho. He has promised to take care of my brother and I if he gets the job. Right, Barton-san?” Atsuki shot back.
“He is right, Komamura-san. If I do well, I will do what I can for the brothers. Kimura-san has been very helpful to me, and if his brother can tame this mop on my face, I’ll help him, too,” Markus said, gazing softly at the older man.
Komamura grunted a reply and returned to his customers. As the pair were leaving, he shouted “Good luck, Barton-san! You’re still a punk, Kimura-kun!” and laughed loudly.
“What was that about, Kimura-san?” Markus asked as they got back in the car.
“Ahhh… I might have stolen a few bowls in my younger days from old man Komamura-san. He never called the cops or anything. Just made me and my brother clean his shop when I did. He’s a good man, and I try to pay him back every time I come, but he never takes it. So, in return, I try to drive as much business to him that I can,” Atsuki replied, somewhat embarrassed.
“I see. Well, it is good that you are trying to correct your past wrongs. I’d say the old man has a fondness for you. You’re a good man, Kimura-san,” Markus stated with finality.
“Bah. I’m still a punk kid. I’m just lucky it was Komamura-san that I stole from. Other ramen-ya are said to be tied with our local gangs. I don’t ever want to step out of line again, so I stick with Komamura-san. He’s safe. The last time a gang tried to tangle with him, he sent them all running. He may not look like it now, but the old man used to be quite the fighter back in his younger days,” Atsuki explained.
Markus nodded and yawned. He checked his phone. Good grief, it was already two in the morning. “Kimura-san. It’s late, and I’ve been on a long flight. Plus I’ve my meeting tomorrow. I’m sorry to ask, but could you please take me back to my room?” he asked, his face a mask of apology.
“What? How late?” Atsuki checked his watch, and saw the time. “Oh shit. I should get home, too. My shift starts in four hours,” Atsuki explained, heading back to Markus’ room.
The pair rode in relative silence for the remarkably shorter trip back. Markus exited the vehicle and turned to Atsuki. “Thank you, Kimura-san. If tonight and tomorrow are all I have in Japan, You’ve made it all the richer. Be safe getting home,” he said with a smile and a polite bow.
“Let me know how it goes, yeah? I’ll send you a message so you have my number. Good luck, my friend!” he called back, and drove off into the night.
Markus stumbled to his door, and went in. Shucking his shoes at the genkan, he stripped and fell into the surprisingly soft bed. He was asleep in moments.
**********
Waking to his alarm always sucked. Markus reached out blindly and grabbed his phone. Shit, it was already noon. He checked his messages and saw a few from an unknown number. It was Atsuki. Apparently, he and his brother would be over in roughly forty-five minutes.
That gave Markus just enough time to shower and get dressed for his meeting. Hopefully. He scrambled for the shower, and got himself clean and dressed in thirty minutes. He was sitting there on the bed when he heard a knock at the door.
Opening the door, he saw the smiling face of Atsuki and a younger, much more shy man behind him.
“Barton-san! I have brought my brother, Gen-kun and he will tame that mop on your face! Ha!” Atsuki said jovially as he and his brother bowed respectfully and entered the small room.
“I am so sorry, Barton-san. I speak no English. Forgive me,” Gen said sorrowfully.
“Think nothing of it, my friend. I understand you well enough. I only hope my Japanese is good enough for you,” Markus replied with a soft smile on his face.
Gen nodded with a smile and set his bags down. He certainly carried a lot of product with him. Markus watched with interest as he set various amber-colored glass vials down, along with a bottle of yellowish oil. He also set out several tins with screw-on tops. Most interestingly, he had what looked like a spice shaker filled with coffee beans.
“So, what do you have here?” Markus asked the younger man.
“I have various scented oils that I will blend for you to bring out your manly scent. It will be tailored specifically to you, Barton-san. No other may wear it and smell quite so nice,” Gen explained.
“Neat. So what is in the metal boxes?”
“Different lightly scented balms to help moisturize your “mop” of a beard. How do you want it styled?” he asked.
“I was thinking of a pair of braids, honestly. Or a single, thicker one if you think that would look better. I also brought some jewelry to put in it,” Markus explained.
“Show me.”
Markus fished in his bag and pulled out a small bag with a few metal beads in it. They all had different designs. Gen gently took it and selected a few after some moments of thought. “These are what you will wear. Now be quiet. I need you still, calm and quiet for the next few minutes,” Gen said to Markus.
Markus nodded, closing his eyes as Gen closed his own, centering himself.
“I will drive you, Barton-san. You need not worry with me around!”
“Quiet, brother. I am concentrating.”
“Sorry.”
Gen sat still for several more minutes, then opened his eyes. He leaned in, sniffing Markus by his neck, behind his ears and even the top of his head. He lifted his arms and smelled his armpits, his back and his chest. Markus was certain he’d just been violated, but was too intrigued to say anything.
Wordlessly, Gen turned to his vials and opened three of them. Inhaling the aroma of the coffee first, he sniffed each vial in turn. Shaking his head, he closed one, and selected another. This pattern went on with periodic sniffs from the coffee until Gen had three vials in front of him. Taking an empty vial from another bag, he opened it. Wordlessly he dripped several droplets of the various scented oils into the empty vial, then filled it from the bottle of yellowish oil. He shook this concoction up, thoroughly mixing the blend.
Next, he opened each of the tins in turn, sniffing them and rejecting a few. In the end, he had two left, and proffered them to Markus.
“Choose.”
Markus, confused, took first one, and then the other, smelling each. “What does the oil smell like? Am I to pick one that compliments it?” he asked.
“No. They both do that. Which do you prefer?” was the answer he received.
“This one, then,” Markus said, handing one to Gen.
Gen took the small tin and set it aside, and then concentrated on Markus’ beard. It was freshly cleaned and slightly damp. Gen took a towel and gently dried Markus’ face. Afterwards, he generously applied the oil to his hands and massaged it into Markus’ face. Markus recoiled slightly from the unusual scent, then gave a nod of approval.
Gen grinned. His gift had yet to let him down. He oiled his clients face, then massaged the balm into his hair. Such a lovely beard. Long, thick and curly. Just as it should be. Once his beard was tamed, he put a pair of braids in it, each hanging down from roughly the corners of his mouth. Once he was satisfied with their length and evenness, he slipped a barrel bead over each braid. They had a curious symbol on them, but his favorite were the pair of oni skulls the man had, that he slipped on under the barrel beads. These were surely the secret to his amazing looks and presence. To have a pair of oni looking after you was especially noteworthy. In his mind, at least.
Finishing his work, he handed Markus a mirror. Markus examined himself and smiled. “This is perfect, my friend. Let’s get the final ties on them, and we can head out!” Markus exclaimed as he looked at his phone. It was nearing three-thirty. How had two hours elapsed already?
Gen finished the work in front of him and nodded. “I can do no more. I would surely be treading upon God’s territory if I tried. Get him to his meeting, Brother. I have a good feeling!” Gen exclaimed.
Markus thanked the younger man and pressed a few bills into his hand. He rose, slipping on his new boots, and together with Atsuki, walked out to the car.