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nachtyr-haus-comics · 2 years

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Wammy Week Day 1- Memories/Childhood

Fanfiction Title: Sandwich

Summary: Mello and Matt are on their first date in the peaceful, post-Kira era.

Thank you to @wammyweek for putting on this event!

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Matt places the car in park. “Alright, we’re here.” He opens the door of the Camaro, scoots out then slams it shut.

Mello’s eyes narrow. He adjusts his sunglasses. A question burns on his tongue but he decides to ask it later. With a soft inhale, he unclips the safety belt, exits the car and smooths his shirt down. Hands land on the zipper of his coat where fingers thread the ends together, then pull the garment closed. The weather is far too warm for extra layers, but Mello wouldn’t dare leave his best jacket in the car.

“Aren’t’chu hot in that?” Matt chuckles as he eyes the blonde from his side of the vehicle.

Mello looks up with a haughty expression. “I already know you won’t be satisfied with my answer. So I’m not going to bother giving it.”

Matt snorts once. “Do you really want to have lunch then go to the hospital? Because you’re going to get heat stroke in all that leather.”

“Shut it.” Mello rounds the trunk of the car and comes to stand before his companion.

“At least you’ll leave behind a handsome corpse.” Pale blue eyes scan Mello’s form with a grin.

A sharp snort is followed by a roll of the eyes. “Is that your idea of a compliment?”

“Only if you take it as one.” Matt lifts both brows twice for emphasis.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes again, “let’s get going.”

Matt smiles. The two lock hands and walk briskly through the small parking lot. “Seriously though, Mells,” Matt says softly, “you look really good today.”

A nervous feeling begins in his stomach, to which Mello scoffs. Was it the compliment that made his heart beat faster? Or, was it the way Matt spoke gently, as if to emphasize his point? Maybe it’s both, Mello wordlessly reasons. “Can it with the flirting, Four Eyes!”

“Y’know, I’m not even wearing goggles today.”

“Matt, you’re Four Eyes no matter what. And you’ll always be Four Eyes.”

The pair step onto the walkway of the plaza while Matt laughs. “Whatever you say, Dingus.” With a quick glance up, he locates the restaurant sign which reads ‘The Carving Board’. Gleefully, he smiles, turns to Mello and says, “Our first date begins here!”

Mello also looks up at the sign of the restaurant; it is a small sandwich shop they used to frequent in the early days of the Kira Investigation. He wanted to inquire about the location earlier, but now seems perfect. “This is the special place you mentioned earlier?” His eyebrows knit together with confusion.

“Sure is!”

Mello considers the information thoughtfully; sure, he likes the place, their food is decent, but nothing about the location strikes him as particularly special.

“Okay, you don’t get it,” Matt exhales. He releases Mello’s hand in order to smooth hair back. It was a maneuver he often did when anxious. “Maybe you don’t remember…but you ought to know I remember too much.”

Mello hums affirmatively. Matt indeed remembered many things with the combination of his hyperthymesia and eidetic memory. He could recall dates, articles, conversations, facial expressions and minute visual cues from years prior.

“Back in 2009…” Matt gives pause. He looks to Mello with anticipation evident in his eyes.

“Go on,” he says with a nod. Mello already knows what’s to come: a barrage of facts that may or may not further explain the situation. He’s already admitted defeat; it’s far easier to let Matt talk himself out than to try (and fail) to stop him.

“Okay.” Matt inhales with renewed fervor. “Actually, it was November 10th, 2009, a Tuesday. It was kinda chilly that morning when I went out for brekky. A lot hotter ‘round lunch. Y’know, I was really hungry that morning since I barely moved the day before…”

He looks at Mello, who’s face practically yells ‘get on with it, already!’. Matt’s lips crinkle bashfully. “But, I digress…” He takes another breath in. “Anyways, I came here t’get some lunch and sent you a pic of it. You texted back and said you hadn’t eaten yet.

“Then you said it’d been a while since you had the Bordeaux Sandwich from here. So, we made plans to come back the following weekend. But…as these things usually go, something came up and we never did.”

The passion in his voice fades away. “I dunno…” Matt pockets both hands with the shake of the head. “For a first date I thought it needed to be somewhere special, but low-key, y’know? I thought this worked.

“And, I thought…” He sighs, hand smoothing his red hair back. “I thought you might wanna have that sandwich, since after that, you hurt your face. Then we went to NYC, and then Japan for the Kira Case. And, with everything going on…we never made time for the little things, like the sandwich you wanted.”

Matt smiles, but not happily. It’s melancholic. Regretful, even.

He glances at his date. “M’bad,” Matt flashes a shy smile, “I shouldn’t be getting all depressed on ya.”

Mello’s eyes are wide with surprise. His lips part but no words immediately escape. Quietly, he processes the information then grins. “What a brain you have to remember something so…” Eyes turn away in thought. “Oh, what’s the correct word? Innocuous? No…Inconsequential. Only you would remember something as inconsequential as that.”

“Inconsequential, huh?” Matt considers the word. “Maybe to you,” he shrugs with a smile, “but I don’t see it that way.”

Perhaps it’s incorrect of Mello to belittle the memory. Arms cross over his chest while he considers the notion more thoroughly. What is another word that could describe the gesture? Thoughtful initially comes to mind. Romantic? Maybe; he didn’t know enough about romance to decide. What about endearing? Absolutely, he thinks with a smile. Perhaps Matt isn’t the only one touched by the idea of something as simple as a sandwich.

As he further contemplates, Mello realizes an important detail about their situation: the two shared vastly more than most couples did prior to a first date. This included, but wasn’t limited to, growing up together, collective trauma, loss of their mentor, years of cohabitation and surviving various deadly encounters. Matt and he went through hell together and survived long enough to reach what should have been the end of their character arcs. Somehow they were still alive, and granted time to indulge in leisure activities.

Mello smiles faintly at this realization, and their eyes meet once again. The redhead smiles warmly, no longer filled with nervousness or doubt. Those pale, baby blues, even with their soft gaze, somehow bore directly into Mello. He looks away, thoroughly embarrassed.

Unwilling to look up, the blonde shifts toward his companion’s right side. He rests the bridge of his nose on the outer side of Matt's shoulder and sighs; the nervousness in his belly is finally curbed. Slender fingers lift to wrap around the other’s forearm, ensuring his face remains hidden. “Mattie, don’t you dare say another word, okay? I get it now, why it's special…”

“Right, got it.” Matt leans toward Mello so their heads touch. The pair remain connected for a moment, a moment where everything around them fades into the background.

Their quiet solitude is gently broken when Matt lifts his head and says, “C’mon, let’s go eat.”

Mello levels his head and both pairs of blue eyes meet again. The smile on Matt’s face reactivates the mixture of nervousness and embarrassment within his belly. Instead of looking away, Mello meets the challenge head on, and gruffly says, “Yeah, fine, whatever. You big, fucking idiot…” His words, though hostile, have no bite to them.

Matt grins. “So, you want the Bordeaux sandwich, right?”

“Uh, no…” Mello says, “I’m not feeling like eating a sandwich. I think…I think I’ll get the Superfood Salad, instead.”

“Seriously? Seriously?!” Matt’s eyes widen with genuine surprise. “After all this time, and you don’t get the sandwich?”

“So what if I don’t?” Mello snorts with renewed confidence. He places a balled fist at the peak of his hip bone.

“Ah, what in the hell, Mells?!” Matt exhales slowly with a laugh. “Hah! You would! You fucking would get the damn salad instead!” Laughter spills from his lips.

Mello grins. “Better believe it.”

Once the urge to laugh subsides, Matt says, “Okay, fine, get the damn salad.” He turns to the shop and opens the door for his date. “But…”

Mello quirks one eyebrow upward.

“...Until you get the sandwich, I’m going to call you Bordeaux Mello.”

Eyebrows lower. Nostrils flare. Mello's mouth contorts into a deep frown.

“Hah! That rhymes perfectly!”

With a snort, Mello walks toward his date, both hands on his hips. “You’re such a damn idiot…”

“But I’m your idiot.” Another eye roll accompanies the softening grimace on Mello's face. “Yes, fine, whatever, my idiot.”

#wammy week 2022 #death note #matt #mail jeevas #mello #mihael keehl #fanart #fanfiction #fluff #post canon #canon divergence #fix it fic #post-canon fix-it #mellodramattic

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yzeltia · 2 years

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Memories of Wind

With a flick of his tail, Y'zel hopped from one precarious stone to the next, muscle memory guiding him post to post along Raiden’s makeshift training path. As he landed on the last pillar, he felt his weighted backpack part just enough from his back to catch the wind.. Eyes wide, he felt a snowy gust take advantage of the millisecond of airtime, blowing through the gap to pull him from the post and down onto the rickety wooden walkways of the Brume.

As he groaned and picked himself up, he felt a scaled tail whack across the back of his thighs. "Aren't cats supposed to land on their feet," he heard Raiden chide.

Y'zel folded his ears then looked up at the Au Ra, bearing his fangs while letting his tail slide across the snowy planks. His eyes went to the man's claymore.

"Don't give it a second thought. You've not the grit for it," the man scoffed before reaching down to scruff his teen Miqo'te son and pull him to his feet. "Not yet at least."

"If you'd just get me my own sword I could-" the boy started, fur still bristled.

"Couldn't hit the broad side of a Chocobo. You've done enough for today. Let's go to the Croizer and see if we can find you a new coat," Raiden grumbled as he turned to ascend towards the aetheryte plaza. "I wish your growth spurt would have held off until you were employable. We'll probably be eating porridge for moons on end after this.."

Y'zel lowered his ears. "Sorry, father."

The Au Ra didn't turn, opting once more to strike the other's thigh, gently, with his tail. "Don't apologize. If I didn't want to take care of you I'd have left you in the snow for dead."

Quietly, the two drifted upward, people taking extra effort to move out of their path, wary of the dark knight and his young ward. As they climbed higher, the looks of disgust and ire increased, many whispering and pointing. As Y'zel felt their eyes upon him, his father's strong scaled hand pushed him to his side. "Heed them not."

Arriving in the Pillars, they walked through the merchant district together and walked to the market board. The man fished out his coin purse and then placed it in his hand. "You're to get a new coat and some oats for dinner. No books or anything unnecessary today."

"Yes sir,' the' Miqo'te answered with a nod of his head.

"Stop pouting. You had one tumble," the Au Ra gruffed before taking his hand affectionately through the boy's hair. "Go on, I want to get back before sundown."

Nodding, Y'zel slid out of the weighted pack, letting the man dump several large stones from it as he turned to go shopping. His tail flicked happily, as he first went to the bookshop, nose pressing against the glass before getting a sour look from the elzen proprietress in the back. He drooped his ears and then rubbed the window clean with his sleeves before scampering off to the tailors.

The wind howled between buildings as entered the store, pulling the door shut behind him with a rather loud slam. Startled, he looked to the elderly Elzen tailor apologetically who gave him a small chuckle in turn. "It's just a door boy, come in. Come in. "

Meekly, Y'zel entered and followed the man inside. "You're Obinata's boy, right? I don't even think it's been a moon cycle since you were here last. You're growing so fast...but you are at that age. I imagine you're after another new coat for this blustery never ceasing winter. Bless Halone that we took well to the cold Bauhmaut brought," he rambled, starting to rake through a rack of heavy woolen coats before picking one out.

"This is what all the young men are asking for, furred collars and bright reds...," he started before holding a coat up. "Ah, but alas you are a bit more petite than many of my customers your age so the reds are going to be a bit brighter and the fur a bit less pronounced."

Y'zel grimaced a bit. The coat, as the man said, was lightly fluffy and red; however, it was patterned with black silhouettes of spears around the edges, designed for the younger Elzen boys that were his size. He held his criticism back, the kind old man carefully fitting it around him. He stood quietly as buttons were adjusted and the hem raised, nary making noise until the man gave a tug at his tail to feed it through a cut opening in the back.

"There my boy. You look like a million Gil," he praised before shuffling to his counter. Y'zel pulled Raiden's coin purse out, ready to pay the man.

"Put that away, boy. Your father helped retrieve my wools and leathers arrived after that last dastardly assault from the dragons on the merchant route. They say he slayed the whole brood single-handedly. I'll just keep your old cost and resell it as payment."

The boy's eyes widened a bit from the story. He knew his father picked up jobs as an adventurer, but the man seldom told him stories of his conquests. "Um. Sir. Why can't he come into the shop if he helped you?"

The man looked at the boy and then stroked his chin with a sigh. "Young man, Raiden Obinata is always welcome in my store. He chooses not to enter because he feels that my business will suffer for it."

"Because he's an Au Ra...," Y'zel responded bitterly, ears flattening.

"Yes, boy. That is the awful truth of it. I'm afraid war has brought out the worst in us. It has frozen many hearts and clouded the people's eyes. They see what they want to see and not what's there."

The Elzen let out a deep sigh. "But your father is always welcome in my shop. If anyone takes issue, I'm sure they can find another shop. Please let him know that, he may listen to his son.”

The boy perked up, ears wiggling in delight. "I will mister! Next time tell me more about my father’s adventures!"

"If that's your wish,I will ask around and tell you on your next visit," the man answered with a nod.

Y'zel gave a wave then headed back out into the streets. The wind blew harder as dusk oranged the spires above. His coat held firm, keeping him nice and insulated for his trip to the food stall.

Arriving, he shyly waited in line, gazing longingly at the bookshop, and as he drew closer, a string of salted fish flapping around in the back of the culinarian's stall. He gulped as he fumbled with the coin purse. He didn't pay for the coat...so there'd be extra money in it. His father wouldn't know...maybe. Shaking the thought from his head, he straightened up and waited for his turn, picking up a small box of oats to pay for before hearing a laugh.

"Look, it's the wittle kitty cat picking out his kibble," a boy mocked.

Glaring, Y'zel turned to see one of his Elzen highborn schoolmates with his entourage pointing at him. His ears perked and his tail thrashed violently, but he held his tongue.

"What's wrong? Are you gonna scratch me," the boy mocked.

The Miqo'te turned then glared at the ground, trying to keep peace of mind as he heard mocking meows and hisses slung his way. As he moved to the next spot in line, he readied his package, putting it on the counter as the attendant wrapped food for an Elzen lady.

"Ha! Look, oats! The dragon is fattening the fleabag up to eat him," the Elzen boy pointed out before roaring with laughter among his friends.

That did it. Y'zel hissed and tensed up then found himself plunging onto his schoolmate. Straddled on the boy's stomach he swung his fists down. "MY. DAD. IS. NOT. A. DRAGON! HE. IS. A. HERO," he screamed, each word punctuated with a swing of his fists.

The surrounding boys tried to pull the Miqo'te off, only to be met with bites and scratches. The adults around made a fuss but did little to get in the way of the scuffle. Y'zel's vision blurred, tears streaming down his face as he whaled on the bully, crying out as the others kicked him and then started to yank on his ears and tail. Before his arms could get weak he was roughly pulled back by the hood of his coat.

"ENOUGH," his father roared.

The boys scattered while the surrounding adults whispered and glowered at the pair. Reaching down, Raiden pulled the Elzen boy to his feet. "Go home," he ordered.

The swollen-faced boy ran off crying, leaving the Au Ra to retrieve his coin purse and pay for the oats in silence before carrying Y'zel off back towards Foundation. The walk was silent, Y'zel slung over the man's back, watching as little drops of blood ran off his cheek and to the stone pathway below. Arriving at their shanty of a home, the Miqo'te was tossed onto his bed before his dad went to boil some water.

Sniffling, the boy hugged his knees and rubbed his eyes into them. His quiet blubbering continued, Raiden actively ignoring it until the hiccups kicked in. "Enough with the tears. We have enough leaks in here as it is," he teased, though voice flat.

Y'zel took in a deep breath wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his new coat. "Am I in trouble," he asked, having noted his father's voice.

"You'll reap what you've sewn with those boys in time. Though they might think twice after the licking you gave to that little lordling."

Y'zel nodded, though the gesture was lost with his father's back to him. The wind howled through Brume, rattling their makeshift steak roof, threatening to dust in some snow. As the water grew to a bubble, Raiden tilted back his head. "I didn't train you to start fights. Self-defense Ze, self-defense."

The Miqo'te fell to his side and then turned to lay out in his belly. "They called you a dragon. They said you wanted to eat me..."

"Let them talk. I've yet to be punctured by words."

"It's not fair though! Mister...Mister Tailor said that you go out to help people and are a hero! You slay dragons and keep us safe! They shouldn't treat you bad," he nearly shouted as he pushed himself up off the bed.

"Mister Tailor," Raiden repeated quizzically, taking a moment to suss out the boy's meaning. "I see. A hero is his actions. I do not need you to be a minstrel for my work. I am compensated well enough to take care of you and myself, without the need for fanfare. I simply do my job."

"But everyone thinks you're a dragon..."

"Am I a dragon?"

"No."

"Then everyone that matters does not think so."

Y'zel grew quiet then curled up and turned to face the wall as his father scooped oats into the boiling pot.

"Even if you were a dragon... you'd still be my dad...and my hero..."

Y'zel's ears twitched as he heard a wooden spoon drop. He looked over his shoulder, watching as the man looked up to the ceiling for a moment before bending down to retrieve the spoon. "We seem to have some extra Gil. I'll let you go to the bookstore tomorrow...and treat you to some fish."

---

Y'zel's ears fluttered as dusty wind scraped along the side of the Free Company house. Yawning, he stretched then wiped at his eyes before crawling out of his bed and making his way towards the stairs of his loft. Turning a corner, he paused, then turned to look at the claymore upon his walk. The Miqo'te gently ran his finger down the blade and smiled before resuming his trek towards his private kitchen, looking forward to some porridge.

#y'zel tia #memories #ishgard ffxiv #ishgard #ffxiv writing #ffxiv oc #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv miqo'te #au ra ffxiv #au ra #father #son #adoptive dad

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theplazamall · 3 months

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tetrisfinished · 6 months

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NYC 2023

a couple of my girlfriends and i finally did a trip to NYC - all 3 of us are mothers and this was all of our first times leaving our kids under the care of their fathers for this long (3 nights, 4 days).

so before i forget, as per the usual - HERE is how our trip happened!

thursday october 26th, 2023

take the 10:56 am AA flight from YYZ to LGA - arriving at noon

wait for our baggage and take a cab in to manhattan where we were staying at the crowne plaza hy36

got an early check-in thank goodness and so we went and refreshed ourselves before heading out

then we walked to the VESSEL - fun fact, the vessel is permanently closed (ie you can't go to the top upstairs because apparently people kept trying to commit suicide on it!)

after the vessel, we walked the high line walkway all the way down to chelsea market to have some lunch

i got a truffle and potato pizza - gotta say not my favourite thing lol

then we walked through the city and went into the starbucks roast store (big i guess flagship store with the machines and all visible - 3 floors large!)

after that, we walked to the friends building facade (who would have known that a couple days later we would hear of matthew perry's passing...)

after that, we walked to sabyasachi - which was a gorgeous store and experience omg. the JEWELRY displays i mean...i couldn't deal. also something interesting about his store was his decor - he had a bunch of "Allah" "Rasool" mirror decor all over the walls!

after spending about an hour of so at sabyasachi, we took walked to the subway and prior to that made a pit stop at the milk bar and got a cereal sundae - the name alone makes it sound not great, but believe me when i tell you it was SO GOOD!

then we took the subway to go catch our broadway show

we watched our broadway show - SIX at lena thorne theatre super close to times square - excellent show, 12/10 recommend!

after the show we walked around times square, spent some time in the disney store, and then got dinner at the carts on the roadside which was delicious

and after that we walked back to the hotel, i showered, and we sort of fell into bed and asleep - that night i got to sleep on the bed alone (two doubles that each of us got to sleep alone per night!)

friday october 27th, 2023

woke up and got dressed to go to leo's bagels and got these amazing massive bagels with omelette

then we went to the staten island ferry dock and took a ride on the ferry there and back (didn't stop over) mostly just to see the skyline and lady liberty - fun fact - it's free!

when we got back to manhattan, we walked through to the bull on financial street - next to which there was some turkish politician speaking about how times and turkey has changed....it was interesting but we didn't stick around for the whole thing

after this, we took the subway to go to oculus and one world trade centre where there was some food truck/cultural food fest happening; at the memorial, i saw an older couple just hugging each other and crying and there was a solemn energy in the place.

we left shortly after and got eileen's cheesecake - OMG. SO GOOD. we got the chocolate espresso and shared a slice and prior to that stopped at bambino bakery (where i purchased an almond croissant and proceeded to hoard it for the next couple of days before finally eating it lol) for a bathroom break - which was necessary since eileen isn't a sit-down establishment or anything.

after cheesecake, we walked along the city roads and stopped at stores like polene, abercrombie & fitch, sephora, and target

after that we went to washington square park where there was some little student concert happening and also so much activity just in general because it's right outside of NYU; we had a couple of (what i'm assuming to be) students stop and ask us to call a politician using a script to ask them to call for a ceasefire in gaza.

after that i asked for a stop ANYWHERE i might be able to get some bike shorts because your girl took all dresses and the CHAFING WAS R E A L - so we stopped at aritzia and got some

after that we walked through the city and passed by empire state building on our way to ny public library - unfortunately though as we entered the library was closing and we were unable to go inside :(

after the library we went to the bryant park grill right behind the library and i had some of probably the best ravioli i have ever had!

then we walked through bryant park and walked to macy's

finally, we went to the moynihan train hall and enjoyed some banana pudding from magnolia bakery which was indeed v v delicious!

then we went back to the hotel, i showered, we did some face masks and we slept

saturday october 28th, 2023

we started off the day by subway-ing it to levain bakery where i got a sticky walnut bun - sooooo goooood!

then we walked through the roads and homes and got to central park!

at central park, we made our way to the bethesda terrace and fountain and yard....oh my goodness the architecture EVEN in the park is something else!

we then walked through the park to get to the conservancy pond where there were model yachts sailing along and sat there and just took in the gorgeous day and weather and park next to the alice and mad hatter statue of the tea party. it was a quiet moment of gratitude and happiness there that we absorbed and...filled our cups.

then we walked through to the bow bridge as well as the central park carousel and out the park we exited

after central park we went to our lunch reservations at nobu and oh my goodness - it was soooooooo good and worth it! fun fact, nobu the chain is owned by robert de niro!

after lunch, we went to bergdorf and goodman and my goodness it really makes you feel so little and insignificant surrounded by so much money - that's kind of how i felt while i was there!

after bergdorf we went to 30 rockefeller across from the saks 5th avenue store that has the massive clock on the facade!

then we went to the ny public library again to go and see inside and oh my goodness, what a frigging goddamn beautiful library!

after that we took the subway to get to dumbo (in brooklyn) and then we walked across the whole brooklyn bridge

we ended the night with dinner at joe's pizza which was so g-dang-delicious - i had two slices of the white pizza

when we got back to the hotel, i showered and did another face mask and then fell asleep earlier than the others

sunday october 27th, 2023

was a rainy day from start to end! and also our last day

we started it by going to the summit one at vanderbilt, which was such a cool experience - luckily it was not foggy with the rain and we could see everything above really clearly

after that we went to the grand central terminal, which is right next to summit at one vanderbilt

and then we grabbed breakfast at the pershing square cafe which was delicious

after this, we went back to the hotel and checked out and then walked to macy's

i got esa a little toy and umbrella as a souvenir

and finally we got a cab back to laguardia and unfortunately...our flight got delayed; it was originally meant to be at 5 pm however it ended up being at 6:25 pm and even then we stood in the plane on the tarmac for a good half hour before actually flying

back at home, yasir and a VERY ASLEEP esa came to pick me up at the airport and we headed straight home

it was an incredible trip, and i am so so so sincerely grateful we got to do it. my cup is full....and i hope we can make this a tradition.

much love,

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engbergeurovacay23 · 9 months

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Thursday was the day we left Barcelona, but we didn't leave until about 5:00 p.m. We thought we were going to get up a bit earlier on Thursday morning and go to La Boqueria market, because I had such fond memories of being so amazed and taken aback by it when I went about 13 years ago. I just love markets in big cities like that! But suffice to say, we didn't get up and at 'em as early as we would have liked on Thursday because the kids have been staying up just too, too late!

I slept all right on Wednesday night but did have about an hour of sleeplessness around 5:00 a.m. That seems to be happening somewhat regularly over these last few days. Anyway, on Thursday morning, I completed the final dealings with some laundry, as seems to be the usual for me (I am kind of a fanatic about it), and then we realized, at about 10:00 a.m., that Eric should start walking over to the Sixt rental car location to pick up our car and drive back and get us, by our 11:00 a.m. check-out. So I wrangled the children and packed up all of our things that weren't pulled together. We were indeed out of the apartment by 11:00 a.m., running into Antonio, our host, on the sidewalk outside, as he met the new guests, who were coming to store their luggage while the apartment was cleaned.

After Eric picked us up in our Volkswagen rental car (a T-Cross), we made our way, very slowly and through traffic and just general European-city driving chaos, towards Park Guell. I had booked a parking spot at a structure near there on an app, and eventually we made it, and entered the Park Guell around 1:00 p.m.

Let me tell you --and not to sound like a broken record, but-- it was extraordinarily hot and humid in the park. You would think that in a circumstance like this, there might be people selling beverages and water and little cafes scattered around the park like in many a large city park, to fuel and hydrate people, but not at the Park Guell. Anyway, the park was quite the sight to see, with all kinds of amazing plazas and walkways and structures, all by Gaudi, executed beautifully. I guess it was only 5 years ago that people had to begin paying to go into the park.

Well, we walked all over to the designated "sites to see" in the park and it was the mosaic areas that were most popular with people, and were pretty clogged up with folks trying to take their picture with beautiful mosaics and vista backgrounds (as we did, too). Some people I thought were quite rude in those circumstances and took like a dozen different shots in different poses to get just the "right one" they wanted to post on their socials, despite the fact that there were tens of people waiting to take a photo in the same spot afterwards, such as by the mosaic-tile gecko (or iguana?).

There were also some people that I thought were dressed much more "for fashion" than they were for heat and functionality! I mean, I don't want to take people's personal expressions of fashion away from them, and as everybody knows, I'm not one to do makeup any day, nor my hair everyday, so I should not really weigh in here, but there were some people wearing pretty fancy outfits to the Park Guell that had me thinking, man, that must be pretty uncomfortable and pretty hot and sweaty! Perhaps in my "middle age" I think much more about functionality 😆 Although, I do think everyone in my family managed to be both sensible and very cute and fashionable at the same time ;) And it should be stated that Spaniards in Madrid and Barcelona, and just Europeans in general (from our prior visits), seem to invest a lot more attention (than Americans, perhaps maybe just Americans not in major metros) in getting ready fashion-wise for each day. I do respect that. But, I suppose making sweeping generalizations is not wise. After all, I do teach my student not to do that ;)

From Park Guell, we decided not to get our car out of the parking garage but rather to take a taxi to the Sagrada Familia for the tour we booked. We got to the Julià Travel office, where our tour was going to begin, and we had some time to spare, so we walked to get something to eat and ended up at a "supermercat," which the kids thought was hilarious to pronounce as "super-meerkat." We got a really odd assortment of foods: dried apricots, almonds, a protein yogurt drink, two yogurts with muesli, and a slice of Spanish potato torte ("tortilla español"). We were sated after this picnic and then, the tour was ready to begin!

We followed our guide, Cristina, who had a beautiful Catalan accent (and the way she pronounced "Jesús" was mesmerizing--and there was a lot of mention of Jesús). We crossed the street from the travel office and entered La Sagrada Familia. If you don't know about it and didn't look it up after I mentioned it in a previous post, do look it up now! What a masterpiece it is--and so mind-bendingly huge! Even if you're not, a) an architecture fan, or b) Catholic, you'll probably still be impressed by it. I mean, if you're an extreme stained-glass fan, you'll be bowled over by it. Eric and I visited about 13 years ago, and there has even been some progress on Gaudi's original vision, bringing it closer towards completion, since then. It's been under construction for over a hundred years.

Apparently, La Sagrada Familia sees 50,000 tourists a day. I absolutely believe that. On our tour, we each had a little radio and ear-buds so we could hear our guide. She had so much helpful and enlightening information. The tour was only 1.5 hours and that was perfect for our kids' attention-span -- and our needs to get on the road to the Costa Brava!

And get on the road we did. By 5:30 p.m., we were en route to L'Estartit, on the coast -- La Costa Brava, to be specific. We were on interstate most of the way, but once we left the interstate and were on smaller two-lane highway, we noticed some pretty interesting-looking large stores, sort of Ikea-ish, off the roadside. One was what we referred to as a "booze shop," so big that we could not tell whether it was a warehouse, manufacturing facility, or store. Eric decided we had to loop back to find out. And it turned out to be like a Costco-sized store dedicated to beer, liquor, and wine. I gather that with a wine-drinking culture like they have in these parts, a store like that is in demand!

We arrived to our place around 8 p.m. but it was very hard to get the kids to bed. Before we even tried, we walked down to the beach and got some quick groceries at the Spar supermercat and then ate a very easy dinner (pasta, basically)-- well, the kids' dinner was easy. I made something more elaborate for Eric and I because I could not resist using the fresh tomatoes, eggplant, and bell peppers the hosts left us from their garden! Gorgeous! Poor Rowan couldn't actually settle in and fall asleep until like 1 a.m.! It was pretty hot upstairs, even though we turned all of the a/c units on, but there was not one in the kids' room itself. The room did eventually cool down, but it was steamy at first.

Anyway, this post has been long enough, but I have to talk about the Fort-Knox-style security measures that these holiday homes have in my next post. It really was puzzling to me and Eric -- like, belt+suspenders+another belt+a gate . . . you get the metaphor ;) It is now Thursday evening and I am going to sign off. I will tell you of our Thursday adventures on the beautiful Costa Brava in my next post!

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wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

5 Years - cth

part of love songs for calum, a love series.

summary: calum finds himself imagining what the next five years hold for you two. based off the song 5 years - noah and the whales.

author’s notes: welcome to my february series! where i’m writing blurbs based around love songs with calum! i hope you enjoy!

warnings: mentions of implied smut.

masterlist || request

Calum's life had never been predictable. Ever since he was a child he was never able to predict what he'd be doing a year from now. But when Calum met you, he started imagining what his life could be like if things worked out between the two of you. Whenever he was bored on a tour bus or when the nights alone on tour kept his brain awake, he'd imagine what life with you could be like in the next couple of years.

One day, when the February sun had shone high above in the sky and both you and Calum had enough time away from the busy lives to spend more than just the night together, you found yourselves at the zoo. The weather had been perfect and the zoo itself wasn't too busy, which meant that strolling through the empty walkways and stopping to watch the animals graze around their exhibits was the perfect way to spend the day.

"Did you know elephants have the biggest brain of any of the mammals?" Calum mumbled happily, looking over at you as you both stopped to watch one of the baby elephants trot after it's sibling, making little trumpet noises.

"Really? They must be very smart then," you mumbled, a smile on your face as you watched the little one jump into the puddle.

Before you knew it, your vision was black and you felt the warmth from Calum's hands on your skin. Laughing softly and trying to pry his hands from your eyes, you couldn't help but whine quietly as you heard the trumpeting from the elephants.

"Calum! Let me see!" you whined and managed to peek through in between his fingers just in time to see the baby elephant stumble into the puddle, both you and Calum chuckling as you leaned into one another.

Calum had a memory in his head of when you two went to the beach in Sydney. How the sun was so warm and the sand was soft against his skin. He remembered how excited you had been to see the famous beaches of Australia and you'd practically begged him to take you as soon as you'd settled into the hotel room. He remembers how quiet you'd gotten when you arrived at the beach and you'd finally got your first taste of the ocean breeze, how your eyes were trained on the waves and the horizon.

Calum took many pictures on that trip, pictures of the view from the ocean so he could show you whenever you felt down. He took pictures of the food you both ate, of the good plates, and the more questionable midnight snacks you'd find yourself eating. But Calum's favorite picture was one of you laying on the Sydney beach, the sun shining down on you while your head was in his lap. He'd kept that picture close to his heart, making sure he reminded you that you could always go visit the beach and stare at the ocean whenever you wanted to.

The first time you and Calum got drunk together, it had been an accident. A night out to dinner with the band had led to both of you drinking way too many glasses of wine from the Italian restaurant that Ashton had raved about for more than a month before the guys all decided to make a night out of it. The pasta had been very cheesy and the wine had been strong, which had led to both of you leaning into the other as you walked down the cobblestone streets of the little plaza.

You were leaning against the wall, watching as Calum took a pull of the cigarette he had lit a few minutes ago. His head was tilted back as he let the puff of smoke leave his lips.

"I'm drunk." he mumbled quietly, his words slurred and his chest rumbling with laughter, "Don't think I've ever gotten this drunk this fast, Whatever they put in that wine, oof." he chuckled and nodded, holding out the cigarette to her.

"Mm, it was definitely a strong one." you chuckled, taking the cigarette from his hands and taking a pull, feeling the burn in your lungs as you exhaled.

"I think I love you," he whispered as you both stood next to each other in silence. "I have for a while."

"I think I love you too."

Calum always felt happy when he was around you. He could be himself, not the Calum Hood that was known for being a musician and a heartbreaker. He could be the Calum he always was when he was by himself. That night, after he'd told you that he loved you and you’d said it back, things had changed. Calum wasn't afraid to be that person he had been hiding away for so long. He wasn't afraid to just show up in the same hoodie he'd worn for three days in a row because he knew you'd still love him.

He'd mentioned it to you, on a day where you were both tangled in the bedsheets and his curls were stuck to his forehead while your hair was sprawled out over his chest. How happy he felt with you, that he'd never been as happy before then he was with you. You had smiled up at him, pressing a kiss on to his collarbone tattoo. "Yeah? Well, I'm always pretty happy when I'm just here with you."

Calum loved making love to you. He loved how he felt close to you whenever he had you under him or on top of him. He loved how you squirmed under his touch while his hands held your waist tight to the end of the bed. Making love to you was different than the casual sex you two were usually having. It was soft kisses and hips meeting in the bed that you both had shared many times before. It was soft grunts and whines that left both of you as you chased a high. He loved the little noises you would make as their hips met. Calum loved how at the end of every night he would end up tangled in your arms, chest heaving, and kisses being left on his skin.

"Do you think this feeling will ever go away?" you asked him one night, your hands running through the curls that you had been pulling not too long ago.

"Hmm?" he asked softly, "I hope so. I love being in love with you." he chuckled, his lips leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder until they met yours, your legs pulling him closer for the long night you had both been craving.

Sometimes when Calum got lost in his head, with thoughts of what his future would look like, he realized just how easy it would be to lose you. All the moments he'd come up with, a house with a big yard for dogs, a car big enough to hold a stroller and car seats, and even just two rocking chairs on a porch where you could both sit and enjoy the Australian summer. Those could easily be lost, with mistakes and fights where Calum's emotions got the best of him, gone and never to become a reality.

He was lying in bed one night, far away from the home and from you, when his thoughts caused his heart to race. When he realized just how easily he could lose you and everything you two had built.

"I just don't understand how you could be so selfish, Calum?!" you groaned, your hands running through your hair for the tenth time in a matter of seconds, "How could you think you could make all these big decisions without thinking of me?"

"You're just being dramatic. It's part of my job, you knew this would be the case. You signed up for this!" Calum threw back, his own eyes rolling as he finished packing up his suitcase.

"You’re leaving for almost two years, Calum!" you shouted, tears pricking your eyes, "Did you even think about how that would affect me?" you asked and scoffed, "Of course you didn't, all you do is think about yourself."

Calum didn't know when things had gotten this bad, when the small little arguments turned into fights where he would end up at Ashton's house, trying his best to fall asleep on the leather couch. But he was tired of all the fighting, tired of all the insults thrown between the two of you. He thought that maybe if he just broke things off, that things would get better. But then there he was, watching you grab our bag and walk out the door and he never felt so scared in his life.

"Cal?" your voice whispered, bringing Calum back to reality one day, "Are you there, sweet boy?"

"Hmm? Yeah, sorry, just got lost in thought." Calum mumbled and chuckled quietly, "What were you saying again?"

"That's okay," you laughed and shook your head, "I was saying we should stop by that gelato place near our Airbnb, they had a lot of cool flavors."

Calum nodded, smiling as he watched you take a sip of the Italian wine you'd been nursing. The sun was setting behind you, making the perfect background of reds and oranges. The small getaway that Calum had planned for you both had been the perfect way to get some time together afterlife became too much and schedule conflicts meant you two hadn't seen much of the other person in a few weeks. It had also been your six-year anniversary, which meant each day of your trip was filled with little surprises from one another. Little moments where the love you had proved every bad thought Calum had wrong.

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop

#calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #calum hood oneshots #calum hood x reader #5sos fics #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos oneshots #5sos x reader #calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #love songs for calum #gemma writes

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years

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Humans are weird: Bio-Terrorism

The gaping maw was the most imposing location on the entire planet of Savan VI.

Since the dawn of Gillden’s civilization it had been an almost holy place for their people. A place that judgement was cast upon the accused and should they be found wanting their bodies would be cast into the bottomless hole and their memory erased from existence; a fitting end for those whose crimes were monstrous enough.

As the ages had passed and the Gillden’s had become more technologically advanced building was built around the maw which became known as the “Hall of Justice” while the surrounding area became known as the government district of the world. While more modern facilities were built as the Gillden entered the galactic stage they still held to their old beliefs and still held trial for their most severe crimes at the maw.

Criminals were led into the hall from a narrow walkway to a grav unit podium in the center of the room. As the accused reached the podium the walkway would retract leaving the accused on the floating island of the podium while being observed by those around them held aloft on similar grav unit benches and stands.

In the event the accused was found guilty the podium they stood upon would slowly tilt sideways until flipping upside down and casting the guilty into the gaping maw below. Before righting itself again for the next case.

The hall of justice today was a chorus of hushed voices; its occupants speaking in hushed tones, eyes darting at the nearest sound louder than a whisper.

The Arbitrator General sat atop a large stand opposite the podium slowly going over papers strewn across his desk.His thin fingers slowly turned each page with the dexterity of a archaeologist handling the find of a century, the thin strands of his hair being casually flicked out of the way more by reflex rather than conscious action.

Finally having read enough, the Arbitrator gave a subtle nod and the doors to the hall opened opposite him.

A lone figure was shoved forward through the door and fell to their knees. They wore the grey garments of a prisoner of Saran VI yet they themselves were not Gillden.

The human stood to their feet unsteadily and after a moments hesitation continued walking along the gangway to the podium.

“Prisoner 47893″ the Arbitrator spoke as the human reached the podium and the gangway retracted. “You stand accused of crimes against the Gillden people. How do you plead?”

Shielding their eyes with their right hand the human took in their surroundings for the first time. They saw the faces of the Arbitrator and the onlookers all watching them with their crimson eyes. It was like being watched by demons in the dead of night waiting for the campfire to die out.

“Not guilty.”

The onlookers raised their voices in uproar at the humans words, waving their fists and some even trying to hit them with thrown objects.

“SILENCE!”

The Arbitrator’s voice was deafening and the onlookers fell silent like school children.

“The prisoners stance is recorded. Accuser, you may begin.”

One of the onlookers stepped out of the benches and on to a separate platform that drifted towards the center of the room.

“Noble Gilldren’s,” they began as their platform slowly spun in place so the Accuser could see all of the onlookers, “I have come here before you, to our most holy sight, to prove that this human is a monster beyond all recognition.”

The Accuser pointed at the human with what the human thought was meant to be an intimidating star but if stares could kill than this Accuser’s was about as deadly as a water pistol.

Pulling up a data pad, the Accuser hit several runes and large hologram display panels appeared overhead. “State your name for the record.”

“Silva Torris.” the human spoke.

“What is your profession Ms. Torris?”

“I am a biochemist.”

“And what does a biochemist do?”

Silva cocked her head to the side. “Are you people fucking stupid or have you not advanced past the dark ages yet?”

More clamor came from the onlookers but a slam of the Arbitrators fist against their stand silenced them.

“Permission to treat the prisoner as hostile?” the Accuser asked the Arbitrator General. Receiving a subtle nod the Accuser pressed another key on their data pad and the shackles of the human sent a strong jolt of electricity coursing through Silva’s body.

The suddenness took her off-guard and she recoiled as if she had just been punched in the stomach. She was bent over when the Accuser repeated the question and she straightened herself out.

“I study the chemical reactions of living organisms.”

“Do you know why you are here today?”

She shrugged. “Clearly not for my sense of humor.” To which she was then shocked again by the Accuser.

“You are here,” the Accuser began as his platform circled Silva’s podium slowly, “because you released chemical agents on Savan VI that have resulted in the deaths of more than 400 souls.”

They leaned in close to Silva. “Do you deny this?”

Silva looked at the Accuser, matching his stare. “Before I answer your question, would you answer one of mine?”

Silva received another shock but this time was better prepared for it.

“You can shock me all day but you won’t get an answer from me until you answer my question.”

The Accuser was about to shock her again when the Arbitrator held up a hand to forestall it. They looked down at Silva with a inquisitive look. “What is your question, human?”

Relaxing slightly at not getting shocked again, Silva rolled her shoulders to stretch them out and looked at the onlookers.

“Is a human or Gillden more biologically perfect?”

The onlookers and Accuser laughed and even the slamming of the Arbitrator’s fist was not enough to silence them this time.

Floating in front of her again the Accuser looked down at her. “Gillden’s are clearly superior to humans.”

“And how do you know that?”

The Accuser looked at the human in puzzlement. “It is a simply a well know fact.”

“Do you have proof of it? Reliable sources”

The Accuser seemed unsure how to answer and coughed before attempting to regain the initiative.

“We are getting off topic now. I have answered your question now you mus-”

“But you haven’t.” Silva cut in, “You have answered my question with a statement supported by nothing but ones beliefs. Belief does not change the world around you. I could believe that I can fly and escape this prosecution but that does not make it fact nor will it change my situation. Therefore your belief that you are superior holds as much weight as your belief that I am guilty.”

The only sound to come from the Accuser was a series of starts and stops of replies of sentences of rebukes and counter arguments not being made and dying in his throat. Rather than say anything the Accuser reached for their pad and triggered a shock causing Silva to bend over again in pain.

When the shock finally stopped Silva coughed several times before spitting out a blotch of blood on to the podium.

“Is that how the Gillden do things?” she mockingly said. “When you are proven wrong by facts you seek to undermine those who have proven you wrong? Do facts mean nothing?!”

The Accuser was bristling in rage now.

“Since you seem so keen on facts let us bring up some.”

With a wave of his hand the holograms changed and showed footage of a crowded plaza near the market district. The footage was from a floating security drone that monitored the area so the quality was immaculate.

Out of the corner of the busy plaza came a large moving van. It came to a stop on the outskirts of the plaza and the drivers cab door opened just as the Accuser paused the video.

“That is you Ms. Torris is it not?”

“It is.” she confirmed as the video continued playing.

Hopping out of the van’s driver side door and approaching the back she slapped the side of the van three times and the back opened up. Two cargo bots stepped out carrying between them a strange metallic cylinder. Once it was set down Silva stepped forward and began twisting and turning several nobs on the device before leaving it and returning to the front of the van.

The two loader bots hopped back into the van as the back closed and the vehicle drove away leaving behind the strange device.

Several seconds passed and everything on camera appeared normal until an elderly Gillden collapsed to the ground near the cylinder. Those nearby rushed to their aide but upon getting within a foot of the collapsed Gillden they too began to spasm and collapse to the ground.

Spreading out from their like a wave as the seconds passed more and more of the people in the Plaza began to convulse and collapse to the ground clutching at themselves wildly. Some tried to grab their young and carry them to safety only to fall and crush them under their own weight.

In a matter of minutes the entire once bustling plaza was left littered with the bodies of the dead.

The Accuser turned back to face Silva. “The fact is that three days ago you entered the market district and unleashed a deadly chemical agent. Within the hour the entire district was sealed off as the contagion began to spread from person to person like fire and rages on even now.”

They glared down at her, her mask of disinterest all the more infuriating to him as he seemingly nailed her to the wall.

“Do you deny that it was you in the video who murdered those Gillden?”

Silva shook her head, but before the Accuser could pronounce her guilt she continued.

“That indeed was me in the video but it was not murder.”

Rounding on her in surprise the Accuser had to stop themselves from physically striking her.

“What else would you call such madness?!?”

She once again shrugged her shoulders.

“A scientific experiment.”

The Accuser’s mouth hung open in disbelief so Silva continued.

“For centuries the Gillden people have proclaimed themselves as you have just now to be the most supreme species in the entire universe. I put that question to the test with a common mutagenic from my homeworld and released it into your populace to study the results. I was unimpressed by the results.”

The calmness in which she casually described this horrific act shook everyone present to the core.

Wrongfully thinking she had correctly assumed the expressions of those around her Silva continued. “My first case was somewhat inconclusive as you interrupted me before I could finish gathering data so I prepared a second test to further disprove your superiority belief and replace it with hard facts.”

This was a surprise to all present. “What do you mean “second test”? Have you planted another device on our world?!?”

Silva shook her head. “This time I thought it best if I witnessed the results first hand.”

Before the Accuser could continue his line of questioning he felt his muscles begin to tense. His eyes began to become blurry and he wiped them away as he tried to focus. He looked down at his sleeve to see to his horror that it was smeared with his blood as his eyes became blurry once more.

Coughing and gurgling could be heard behind him and he turned to see the onlookers and even the Arbitrator General showing similar side effects as their eyes began to bleed and their muscles locked up. He saw the Arbitrator begin convulsing rapidly to the point they lost balance from their stand and fell into the great maw below them in a silent scream of horror.

The Accuser collapsed to their platform and nearly fell themselves before they grabbed hold of the edges. He looked up through blood clotting eyes to see Silva kneeling over him looking at him with an ponderous gaze.

“The chemical agent is neutral in liquid form,” she began calmly as if the Accusers dying gasps were nothing but a nuisance, “but once the liquid evaporates it becomes active and turns into an airborne agent. Frankly rather hard to design chemically but I would settle for nothing less for my experiments.

Silva slowly knelt down and drew her finger across the dried blood she had coughed up earlier. “It is amazing when one species is so completely immune to something they can even carry it in their body as if it was nothing more luggage.” She looked over at the Accuser with a look of disdain. “Your people really should have spent more time doing medical checks than beating me in prison.”

The Accuser attempted to make a lunge at her with one of his free arms but missed as his body suddenly convulsed. He lost his grip with his other hand and to his horror he could feel his body begin to fall into the gaping maw below.

“I guess you weren’t as superior as you thought.”

Silva’s final words to the Accuser rang out to him as the darkness of the maw swallowed him whole.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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rabbitcruiser · 2 years

Photo

On March 7, 2002, Congressman John Murtha (PA-12) introduced a bill in the United States House of Representatives to establish a Flight 93 National Memorial to be developed by a commission, and ultimately administered by the National Park Service.

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dougrobyngoold · 9 months

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Plaza Espana, Tapas, & Finding the Crowds - Madrid, Spain

Our plan for today: a little stroll up to Plaza Espana and to a couple of other sights, then lunch somewhere, before heading back to our place for a siesta. Then we were going to the Palace, since entry is FREE from 5 to 7 p.m. - it was a solid plan.

We walked up to the Plaza Espana (pictured above). Lovely plaza, there was even an outdoor cinema on the plaza. There is a rooftop view from the RIU hotel (in the background), which costs a pretty penny to go up to, there is also a glass walkway that you can experience. We decided to pass on that and continued our walk around the area. We walked back toward the Palace and visited the gardens:

Hedge-lined walkways, large water features, and pine trees filled the garden area. The back of the Palacio Real de Madrid dominates the garden.

Casa Gallardo - one of the few modernista buildings in Madrid - quite opulent!

Ruins from the San Gil Barracks - they are the remains of a convent, which became a military barrack, before being demolished. Remnants were discovered during construction on Plaza Espana (which is nearby) in 2020 and moved to this area shortly afterwards.

Our next stop: The Temple of Debod. This is an ancient Egyptian temple that was relocated to Madrid as part of the International Campaign to Save the Monuments of Nubia. Originally, it was constructed in 200 BC - it was moved to this site in 1970.

From the temple, we descended to the lovely walkway along the Manzanares River - it was nice to find a little shade on our walk back toward our Airbnb. Next stop - lunch and a cold drink!

We found a perfect little sidewalk cafe - shade and a breeze! Taberna 4 Tapas - the staff was friendly, the portions were generous, the prices were reasonable, and the food was delicious. We had roasted chilis, potata bravas, and chicken (for Doug). Perfect!

Viaducto de Segovia - this impressive bridge is just up the hill from our place. It is massive!

After our siesta, we headed up to the Royal Palace around 5:00 for our free entry. We found out, upon our arrival at the entrance, that we were not the only people looking to save a little money! The line to get in stretched around the building and down the street - well over 200 people were waiting to get in. We decided that we would rather pay the entrance fee tomorrow, rather than stand in line in the heat today. We wandered back toward the Catedral de Santa Maria la Real de la Almudena, which is right next door, and free. Unfortunately, there was a service going on, but they did let us wander around the perimeter of the interior of the cathedral (if we were quiet).

The cathedral is massive and perched upon a hill - it, along with the palace, is visible from most of the city of Madrid.

The interior is not as elaborate as some of the cathedrals we have visited, but the stained-glass windows were beautiful and the memorials on the floors caught our attention.

We were disappointed that we weren't able to do the palace, but we will add it to our agenda for tomorrow. We had a lovely day of walking up and down the hills of Madrid and getting familiar with the lay of the land. Looking forward to tomorrow.....

#Madrid #Spain #churches #plazas

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countessofbiscuit · 3 years

Text

Danger Close

Fi/Sev, Teen, 1000 words. An expanded Triple Zero scene. also on Ao3.

. . .

1100 hours, 384 days after Geonosis, commercial zone, Quadrant N-09: agreed meeting point to open negotiations with interested party

“I want my HUD back. I want my enhanced view,” Darman said, predictably, after Etain had crossed the plaza for the sixth time.

Fi shifted his weight from one hip to the other. His elbows belonged to the permacrete now, after twelve hours in sniper situ. “But you get to wear face camo instead. Makes you feel wild and dangerous.”

“I’m wild,” came a gravelly voice. Sev. He was behind a roof balustrade under a pile of discarded sheeting. “And then I get dangerous,” he added. “Shut up.”

Sev had had no hesitation applying the nexu stripes. Acted like he wore them under his fekkin’ bucket as a matter of course. When the orders came, he’d slashed the paint across his face in the gruesome pattern of his helmet. And, without invitation, he’d given Fi the same treatment.

“Copy that,” Fi said cheerfully, his face warming at the memory.

How Sev’s hand had seized his neck, fingering around his tightening throat and his tingling spine.

How Sev’s angry mouth had curled in concentration, after he’d ordered Fi to close his eyes and hold still.

How Sev had singled him out, apparently, not sharing his stick with anyone else.

It was so distracting. Fi forced his rested eye back to the Verp’s scope, before he burned his hide in sheer white-hot botheration. Before he gave his position away with the bright smile that slapped into his face every time he thought about holing up somewhere tight with his Delta opposite.

It was so confusing.

Fi clicked his back teeth twice to exit Sev’s open comlink channel. “Miserable di’kut,” Fi informed everyone else, to set the record straight.

“Don’t mind him,” Scorch said, quickly. Always quickly, like Sev’s existence needed blanketing over. Or protecting. Scorch was at walkway level about fifty meters west of the meeting point, lying in a disused horizontal access shaft. “He’ll be fine once he’s killed something.”

What would fine look like, on Sev? Fi had to wonder. The man generally looked ready to braid Corellia’s hells into a breakfast pastry.

The plaza persisted in being boring.

With nothing else to occupy him, Fi’s brief life flipped before his mind, in a desperate effort to sync with everything he’d seen the past two weeks.

The replay always snagged around the episode at that Corrie spaceport. When he’d smothered a grenade with his body. Just ... jumped on it, because he was wearing Katarn and the civvie cops weren’t—because that’s what Bralor’s ball games had taught Fi, even if Sergeant Kal had never been able to stomach the exercise.

Fi wore that moment on his armor. It was a receipt for a drink he’d yet to enjoy.

It generally went unnoticed. Every commando had been trained to take it to the plate and just keep on going. No fanfare, no fuss. Everyone had their scrapes. Fi rarely got asked about his because his brothers offered the story first. This is Fi. He likes to bounce on dets, so keep yours in your pockets please. We’re quite fond of him.

Until Sev.

Sev had done a double-take when they stepped into the bright Fearless hangar. He’d eyed Fi’s dented chest with an expression Fi couldn’t read. Like he knew a blunt explosion profile when he saw one. Fi’d expected him to crack something about Omega being least and last in Procurement’s opinion, too.

But he’d only frowned and asked, “Who did that to you?”

“Did it to myself,” Fi had said, smilingly, feeling his mouth hijack his discomfort. “I've got a self-destructive streak. Mess with Atin again and I’ll show you.”

Then Scorch intervened, throwing arm around Sev’s shoulders, like he knew the pressure settings of Sev’s jaw. “Now, F’ika, don’t threaten Sev with a good time.”

The fisticuffs Fi kept bracing for never came. Instead, Sev slowly closed the fraught gap between them with every touch to Fi’s dent. Made contact with him there in the Dha Werda. Gave him a civil smack there in lieu of thanks. Even patted him there without the armor to guide him, when Fi had scored in that shirts-and-skins game of bev’rugam.

Fi was as broad as the next clone. He had plenty of acreage. But Sev had fixated on that spot, while always fixing Fi with a scowl.

Fierfek, why did Sev have to look at him like that? Like Fi offended his understanding of the galaxy? Fi was the normal one, just with freckles, good humor and better hair. Sev’s hair was unruly, and almost ruddy in the Galactic City daylight. It needed some attention.

Something ambushed Fi. A simulation his brain played through without his consent, inspired by that couple he’d watched through the insurance office window:

Sev bent over him, scouring Fi’s bravery off his plates with his tongue. From his cod to his chest. Licking him shiny again, while Fi threaded his fingers through Sev’s mane. Urging him gently lower.

In his airless hide, Fi’s neck crawled. His mind sank down to meet Sev’s hot breath. He shivered and jerked into the ground, helplessly.

“Someone cramping up?” came the judgemental voice.

Fi froze. He was hard. He was fucking hard.

And Sev just heard him moan. When had he cut back in? There had been no click. No warning.

A bad guy or ten would have been very welcome, right about then, as Fi blazed with shame.

A pause. “Just Fi having a moment with his Verp,” Darman said.

Scorch tutted. “Don’t make your Deece jealous, Fi. She’ll know where your hands have been.”

“We have an arrangement,” Fi joked, with some effort.

He missed his body glove. The tight cod seal always smothered the worst of the sensations.

Now, Fi’s cock snagged against his skivvies and the rucks in his fatigues—and the growl on Sev’s voice when he told everyone to shut up again.

The recce continued.

#republic commando #delta squad #omega squad #fi/sev #repcomm

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mandalorian-writings · 4 years

Text

Little One- Prologue

Prologue- The Foundling

Warnings: None

Word Count: 988

Summary: While going about your normal day of selling herbs and navigation through the market, you stumble upon a child. Or rather, the child stumbles upon you.

A/N: fun fact: this is my first fic ever! This was kind of short because it’s the prologue but the other chapters will be much longer. Hope you enjoy it!!!

Little One Masterlist

Vycinyth was by far, the closest thing you had to a home. In fact, it was one of the only planets that you had been able to remain on for more than a few months in the past years that you had been on the run.

Everyday you follow a similar routine with little to no disruptions, you would wake up to the slight thrum of conversations and movements of tourism, with light seeping through the curtained window of your room. You change into your typical daytime clothing of a mid length and lightly tan dress with patterned upper sleeves and a sienna surcoat that is elegantly fastened to your waist by a sleek but broad utility belt. After changing and freshening up, you would leave home for the market.

Luckily the past week had led to a successful crop of medicinal herbs. A good enough crop that would allow you spare pocket change, which is always welcome. And so, after gathering the needed herbs that you had left to be dehydrated accordingly overnight and fastening your lightsaber delicately underneath your surcoat, you shut your home and set off on the short trek to the market.

Although it wasn’t necessary for you to stow your lightsaber with you, you had never left home without it. The simple presence of it against your abdomen provided a comfort that your compacted staff or a simple blaster could never replicate. The Force provided a comfort similar to it, but it was far too encompassing to completely ease your mind. Years of running, of carnage, and fear had drastically altered your mind. And although the fall of the Galactic Empire had helped at first, the Imperial Loyalists, and the occasional bounty hunters they sent out, had quickly ended what you had thought to be a state of peace.

Your boots gripped the smoothed roads of the market center as you swayed through the crowds of tourists and merchant stalls. It was as bustling as ever, with colored and textured fabrics that swung lazily in the breeze above the walkways. You passed by the regular Twi’lek women who sold rich fabrics to wealthy visitors, and the few Kiffar vendors who were selling their typical Jogan fruit baked goods. The business of the crowd made it slightly more difficult than normal to navigate through the plaza but you found yourself right where you needed to be, the Herbalist Facility. After selling the entirety of your crop, your pouch of credits was now significantly heavier than it had been before.

Stepping out of the door, you set out to a local stall for a late breakfast of Purlah soup and a Blap biscuit. The stall was simple but elegant, the Naboo family that ran it had lain fabrics from the homeworld to cover the stall instead of the provided fabrics that covered the tops of the market. You settled into one of the smaller tables and patiently waited. You allowed yourself to drift off into your subconscious. You had nearly lost yourself in thought until you felt a shift. It wasn’t one that was vicious, but it was enough to startle you.

You shifted your eyes curiously through the market. Someone else was here. You felt them coming closer. And at that thought, you felt a small tug and a coo sound from the ground near the edge of your dress. A small child stood at your feet, giggling when you cocked your head in confusion. This was definitely the one you sensed. He babbled impatiently at you, raising its arms to be lifted up.

“Hey, little guy.” You said, carefully hoisting the child up to sit next to you. He babbled happily and tugged on your surcoat. You smiled as you watched him gaze around, cooing at what seemed to interest him. You inspected him more closely. He was a species you had never seen before, with two large cone shaped ears, large dark eyes and slightly wrinkled green skin. The Child was wearing what seemed to be a layer or two of tan robes that wrapped around his body like a blanket.

“Here you go, Miss Anapai.” A member of the family set down the stew and biscuit on the table. You thanked her as she walked back towards the kitchens. The food in front of you immediately had the attention of the Child as he peeked his head as far as he could over the table. “Hungry?” You asked, picking up the bowl of soup and placing it in the hands of the little one. You ate the biscuit as the Child quickly slurped the soup until there was none left. You took a napkin and wiped the sides of his mouth, he giggled haughtily while you did so kicking his feet.

A shine of light hit your eye, jarring you slightly. Setting down the napkin, you shifted the robes slightly around the child’s neck, finding a cord hanging from his shoulders. Allowing the little one to tug your index finger into his grasp, you gently tugged the cord until a pendant laid in your palm. You ran your thumb over the creature on the front of it. It was eerily familiar, a long-faced skull with two large curled tusks. As the child babbled you combed your memory, the name on the tip of your tongue until a single name sung from the back of your mind. Mythosaur. Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly in surprise. You tucked the pendant back into the robes of the Child, hoisting him into your arms.

A Mythosaur was not common and a Mythosaur pendant was even less so. You waved goodbye to the servers and cooks, turning to look at the child after. “Well,” You started. “let’s find your clan.” You adjusted him to your side, and as you began to sway through the crowd once again, you now looked for a new being. A Mandalorian.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #littleonefic

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just-another-eve-of-eden · 3 years

Text

Boulevard of Broken Promise: Ode to Espina Boulevard

They were brief walks we had along that street of Espina Boulevard. In my reverie, I saw you entwining your fingers with mine. At times, I saw myself wrapping my arm around your waist, and we would take drunken-like gaits laughing...as I took youto the cab station.

Whenever I could, I would steal kisses from you right infront of the nosey cab drivers, much to your chagrin ( but saw the delight in your eyes).

My wristwatch striking the ninth hour of the evening ( we always used up all the time we had when we could ) always broke the fun and severed the dance of our free spirits.

The goodbyes that followed were long, and I usually waited for the cab to turn in the farthest corner of Tomas Oppus Street before it disappears from my longing eyes.

As your boardmates said, you usually arrived home (boarding house) with a smile in your lips, twirling your umbrella like a baton.

Rarely though, in our strolls, you would walk ahead of me, taking lengthy strides abbreviating our walks so I would not see your face when you are blushing or annoyed by me. Ah! I remember our puerile fights which I usually initiated. No thanks to my annoying self...always testing your patience...making you bristle...giving you fangs...I find you really cute and pretty everytime you squirmed.

But even then, I still care for you of course. I love you. I think you knew that. You had sense it. I shooed you to your boarding house with a prayer in my heart that you'll feel the same. In those times...I would use your umbrella like a cane feeling crippled.

More often our walks were leisurely. You and I looking at each others eyes, melting in the afternoon sun, contented with each other's presence. On our free time , from SJC college gate to Espina Boulevard, I would court you. Buying you a cup of dirty ice cream, a pack of crispy-chicken ribs at our favorite food stall Van-Vans, at times joining you in flipping the pages of foreign magazines to watch girly poses, or I would give you a two or couple stick of sugar coated banana cue served right from the hot frying pan, pairing it with a chilled lemon tea to constitute dinner eaten in an unlit corner of the public plaza.

Then your hands laced in mine, we would talk about the future that later on entice us both with a bed of roses ( or was it brass or wood?😢), a blissful small family and a house with a well-tended lawn.

Goodbyes were a little longer and little more difficult. Walked you to your boarding house again. Wishing you to have a safe and sound sleep after pining ourselves for a next time.

On weekdays, I would tear myself away from my school works and decided to just walked you to your boarding house from school. I can still recall one afternoon when I decided to stalk you. Yourself treading two blocks behind me watching you turned corners and crossed the streets, and then took you by surprise at the short cut route. I love the shocked plastered in your face. So cute. So pretty. Oh, I love you so much.

On Sundays, I would wait for you at the church entrance door, watching you make the few meters or so...from the Caltex gasoline station across the street, noticing that wonderful gleam in your eyes everytime you see me already there slapping mosquitoes off ( pretending anyway ). My hands in yours, we would hear Father Lito Briones awe-inspiring homilies and partake of the host, giggling on occasions ourselves immersed still within the aura of each other's world. They were great! Those days!

The stormy nights were cold...and I would huddle you at the comforts of my hollow shoulders, with my other hand holding the umbrella, I would get you to your boarding house safe, avoiding broken tree limbs and puddles on the concrete walkways missing our lanky friend who sleeps on a cot in the open skies of Espina Boulevard amidst deafening roars of passing humongous container trucks.

If pressed for our boarding house curfew. We would hurriedly rush ourselves, hailed a cab, and managed ourselves to fit inside, wetting each other's lips in such constricted space ( I love it though, youre so closed to me I can smell every inch of you ). The driver would zoom and splashed his way up to your boarding house. You would always trying to look beautiful ( you are to me..always..), Oh my significant other...there you are standing the doorway, a bit sleek from the drizzle catching your breath. I would comb your hair and whisper you how much I care and love you. Never minding whether I would hear an answer from you which I always waited for so long. I would affectionately compel you to my promise that I would take care of you and love you until forever.

Then all at once...you suddenly want me to leave you. You pushed me away from you just as I was going to bid you goodnight with our usual kisses. I didn't understand...I walked away. Pained throbbing in my chest. But I was hoping we would be okay tomorrow or the next day.

We dont see each other for two weeks. I was thinking it was because we're both busy for the finals. I miss you so much my Monalisa. Your smile...your laughter...your giggles...the sweetness of you..everything of me misses everything of you.

Then I saw our classmates...our closest friends cutting paper flowers of purple and pink in one of the vacant rooms. I was about to ask them then, but I was too stunned..too shocked...when I saw your name on a handmade card with a message for the departed ones...I read RIP and Eternal Rest grant unto "you" my dearest Monalisa. 😢😢😢💔 I felt my heart been squeezed and toppled over by a huge stone... I could hardly breath. I couldn't hold on any longer and I bursted out into heavy sobs. Our friend cried too. How could you leave me like that, without words! It was so unfair! You're unfair! I wanted to hate you. But I love you so much it hurts. I was praying you would take me with you. I would die with you.

I remember you said once that, when youre gone, I should go on with my life. That I should be happy, have kids and build a family of my own. And that you'll be happy somewhere watching me. I dreaded that day when you said that, I wanted to ask but I was taken over with my fears.

These days you are millions of miles away from me. Lands, oceans, universe and galaxies separate us, and only my love and memories keep me together with you.

Once in a while, I treaded the lonely, lovely familiar street of Espina Boulevard. Sometimes envious of happy young couple. My hands bare and dugged in my pockets. And I've longed for you head on my shoulders.

The crispy-chiken ribs and the banana cues remain sweet and warm. The stormy nights still cold. But the sidewalks seems wider and the rusty umbrella you've left with me seems bigger now. I miss you my Monalisa😢😢😢.

The church, food stalls, and the cab drivers look unchanging with the passing years. Father Lito Briones isn't the parish priest anymore. Our lanky friend still there, with lungs full of belched smoke, sleeping...uncaring underneath the heavens.

It was the same street of Espina Boulevard, same distance...yet different in many ways.

Life goes on without you...without us...in Espina Boulevard.

I miss "us" so much.💔

#original photographers #short story #brokenheart #younglove #firstlove

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architectuul · 5 years

Text

FOMA 33: The Indoor University; Canadian Welfare And Modern Architecture (Part 1)

Starting from the ‘60s, Canada embarked in a massive policy of creation of institutions for higher education as part of a concerted effort of modernization of the country, which, after the end of World War II was increasing its autonomy from the British Empire.

Bata Library, Trent University, Peterborough (1967-1969) by Ronald Thom. | Photo via FIG projects

A survey of the 1965-66 academic year published in October 1966, by the specialized magazine University Affairs listed 22 institutions that were either new (Simon Fraser University, University of Calgary, York University) or had their status modified (Mount Saint Vincent College, for example, became Mount Saint Vincent University and Lakehead College of Arts, Science and Technology became Lakehead University).

Besides providing spaces and services for its citizens, these efforts were also instrumental to reinforce the concept of a country based on two cultures, the anglophone and the francophone, not just present in Quebec, but also to be found across all the country. Moreover, issues of decentralization, in order to bring higher education to all the provinces, were crucial. This massive investment from the federal state and the local administrations meant that universities were (and still are) public entities, a quite different condition if compared to the neighbor at the South of the border.

Bata Library, Trent University, Peterborough (1967-1969) by Ronald Thom. | Photo via FIG projects

Ronald Thom designed the masterplan of the Trent University campus in Peterborough and a series of buildings scattered on the premises. The Bata Library was located at the core of the campus, with the intention to become its focal point, dramatically overseeing the Otonabee river. The whole building is organized around a vast lobby that distributes natural light to the surrounding study areas. The walls of Bata are exposed-aggregate rubble and concrete, which Thom saw as matching closely the stone outcroppings of the area.

Scott Library, York University, North York (1968-1971) by John Parkin, John Bonnick, William Greer. | Photo via FIG projects

An austere inverted concrete ziqqurat to the outside, the indoors reveals a vast lobby towards which administrative and librarian offices are organized through a system of semi-public terraces with reading spaces. | Photo via FIG projects

Fisher Rare Books Library and Robarts Library, Toronto University (1968-1973) by Warner, Burns, Toan & Lunde. | Photo via FIG projects

Two adjacent buildings, holding the collections of Toronto University; the six floors volume of the Fisher Rare Books Library contains a breathtaking space dedicated to ancient and rare books. | Photo via FIG projects

School of Architecture at Carleton University, Ottawa (1968) by Carmin and Eilin Corneil. | Photo via FIG projects

The stacked volumes of the studios and class-rooms are organized around the internal circulation, composed by a vast atrium that crosses the entire building, used as space for exhibition, lectures and students’ presentations. The whole language of the building is almost spartan with concrete and bricks left exposed as in an industrial building, hence underlying the productive nature of architectural studies.

MacEwan Hall, University of Calgary (1967) by Stevenson Raines Barrett. | Photo via FIG projects

The seat of the students union of the new university, which in 1966 became autonomous from the University of Alberta. “In the early 1970s, MacEvan Hall included a food services area that seated 500, pool and ping-pong tables, a bowling alley, a 1,000 person dining room and ballroom, a fire pit lounge, a music lounge, a library, offices and meeting rooms, a bank, a barber, and a bookstore.”

“In the public domain the most important change distinguishing the new universities from the old is that the new universities are in the public domain in a manner, and to a degree, uncommon to the old. It is not simply that they are public institutions initiated and sustained by government grants. This was the case for many universities in the past. But most of the universities begun in the last decade … have stirred a wide interest and a sense of proprietorship in the communities in which they were established. The result is that these universities are in the public domain; not simply as public institutions, but as community projects.

Part of the mystique of the university has been torn away. The old university with its absent-minded professors and its ivy-covered walls is a romantic picture that stirs pleasant memories, but little enthusiasm as a model for today’s development. The new universities are “public property” in a sense that was not true of universities in the past. As a consequence, all aspects of the university’s life and work are being regarded afresh by many people unfamiliar with university traditions. And while these people are not unsympathetic with what they see, they do not hesitate to criticize sharply when they see fit. The university no longer enjoys an isolated and protected position in the community.”

– Murray G. Ross, president, York University, in University Affairs, April 1965.

Housing Union Building (HUB), University of Alberta (1969-1971) by Diamond and Myers Architects with R.L. Wilkin. | Photo via Capital Modern

Designed by former Louis Kahn students, The Housing Union Building (HUB) was an innovative experiment in student housing, combining function and circulation in a new way. The elongated building was designed as a weather-enclosed concourse linking to other campus buildings, and as the acronym suggests, was intended to be a central focus on campus for students, staff and the general public.

Lethbridge University Hall (1968-1969) by Arthur Erickson. | Photo via University of Lethbridge

Arthur Erickson, perhaps the early prototype of the starchitect, a globe-trotting cosmopolitan designer, created the main hall for the University of Lethbridge, founded in 1967. The elongated building, a land-art megastructure over a ravine, juxtaposed to the horizontal landscape of the prairies was organized along an extended walkway, a six storey concourse with a complex section, conceived as the central element of social gathering, especially during winter.

University Center, University of Manitoba, Winnipeg (1966-1969) by Number Ten Architectural Group. | Photo via Bohemian Blog

University Centre is a five-storey poured and pre-cast concrete structure constructed as part of a campus planning strategy that aimed to develop the campus as an urban centre. Overground facilities include dining space, offices and conference rooms, while the lounges, cafeteria, bookstore and open spaces for gathering were located below grade. University Centre serves as the central meeting point for all of the campus tunnels, culminating in a two-storey multifunctional space referred to as a “campo”.

Located in a quite dense area of downtown Montréal, the two pavilions of the recently established Université du Quebéc à Montréal sit over metro lines, to which they are directly connected. A semi-underground concourse connects different educational facilities, such as cafeterias, auditoriums and class-rooms, creating dramatic spaces in correspondence of pre-existing heritage religious buildings, whose facades were incorporated in the general design.

Pavillons Judith-Jasmin et Hubert-Aquin UQAM, Montréal (1974-1979) by Jodoin Pratte Lamarre and Dimitri Dimakopoulos. | Photo via © Jodoin Lamarre Pratte Architects

As a consequence of this ideological positioning, but also, of the peculiar climatic and geographical conditions of Canada, a few salient features can be read in the architecture and layout of many of the new facilities that sprouted in a very condensed period.

In particular, many projects shared the objective to interiorize within the envelope of the buildings, vast spaces for collective socialization, between students, faculty and staff. If the pastoral campus, inspired by Oxford or Cambridge was the model of the research university in the USA and of Canadian institutions between the XIX and XX centuries, one can identify in the new universities and in the additions and expansion of the existing ones of the ‘60s and ‘70s in Canada, the “galleria” as the dominant feature: a vast and climatically controlled environment for public life within an academic setting.

A very simplistic reading of such recurrent trope can just assume that as the majority of courses take place between September and May, when winter is the hardest, it is logical that indoor spaces are more important and more frequented than the lawns, courtyards, quadrants and gardens of universities in milder climates. Covered plazas, multi-storeys lobbies, expanded circulations, sky-lit concourses and indoor streets were part of an arsenal of architectural and typological tools mobilized by designers so as to accompany the surge of a new middle class of educated professionals, and to interiorize a strong idea of the “urban” inside the life of students. Such generosity was especially striking if compared to the tiny and cramped spaces of classrooms, laboratories, libraries and administrative offices of the university buildings from the first half of the XX century, often devoid of any places for informal exchange.

Still now, these vast indoor fragments of city life are extremely popular an used.

---

#FOMA 33: FIG Projects

FIG projects was founded by architects Fabrizio Gallanti and Francisca Insulza in 2003 in Santiago de Chile and is currently based in Montréal, Canada. FIG projects explores the boundaries between architecture, urban research and visual arts and promotes interdisciplinary initiatives. Wide ranging in nature, their practice extends from architectural explorations (new seat for the Literature School, Universidad Diego Portales, 2003-2005, Santiago, Chile; first prize Europan 8 competition, Kristiansand, Norway, 2006), urban studies (The Block, 2004; SARS Atlas 2006; Donde? 2006-2019), writing (Fan Club series for Interwoven magazine, 2016-2018) and curatorial projects (The World in Our Eyes, Lisbon Architecture Triennale, 2016). FIG projects work has been exhibited in different venues including Museo de Arte Contemporaneo, Santiago de Chile; exo.org, São Paulo; film + arch, Graz; Architecture and Urbanism Biennale, Shenzhen Hong Kong; Canadian Centre for Architecture, Montreal; Venice Architecture Biennale; Archivo Diseño y Arquitectura, México, Storefront Gallery for Art and Architecture, New York and Flint Free Festival, published in books such as “USE, Uncertain States of Europe” and international magazines as Domus, A+U or the Harvard Design Magazine.

#foma #forgotten masterpieces

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whispersafterdusk · 4 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 1

Winter had been very eager to shove fall out of the picture this year.

It had announced its presence with a torrential downpour that turned to sleet that had eventually given way to a heavy snow that had hammered Portia for a good five, six hours straight and brought with it a bitter cold that was a stark contrast to the chilly but tolerable temperature from only a few days prior.

It wasn't often that Arlo lamented living on top of a steep hill but he certainly did now as he and the rest of the Civil Corps struggled to clear the pathway without taking a sliding tumble down said hill; after several hours of work they'd only managed to clear to the topmost landing of the sidewalk ramp and they were all soaked, tired, and bruised up from repeated slips and slides -- if this was a sign of what kind of winter they were going to have this year then it wasn't going to be a pleasant one, and they'd likely need more than the one old shovel and broom they'd pulled out of the closet to get through the season. ((Continued below cut))

Arlo himself was armed with that broom and shovel and was quickly tiring of moving the seven inches of snow that sat on top of the three inches of ice and had, within the last hour, stopped piling it neatly alongside the path they were clearing and instead was just happy to move it out of the way however he could.

Behind him, as he cleared away the top layer of snow, Sam and Remington worked together on the ice - Remington cracking and lifting, and Sam getting it out of the way. Theirs was perhaps the harder job even if Arlo technically had more to move by volume, and after a while (after she chucked a double handful of ice chunks off to the side) Sam straightened from where she'd been bent over, rubbing at her lower back. "Man, even with my gloves on I can't feel my fingers."

"This is weather only Papa Bear's suited for," Remington grumbled as he wedged the blunt end of the pickaxe under the edge of the next section of a freshly-revealed layer of ice. They'd tried earlier to use the actual pick end of the pickaxe to try and shatter the ice but had, in the process, accidentally gouged the sidewalk a few times; the only way to prevent any further damage was to use the other end as a makeshift pry bar - it was harder and would take longer but was better than the alternative.

Remington grunted and threw his weight against the haft of the pickaxe and there was a crackling sound as the ice began to splinter and pull away from the stone beneath it. As the sheet lifted Sam bent again to slide her hands under into the gap between ground and ice. "--think Selene could rig something up to make this any easier?" she grunted as she lifted in tandem with Remington's prying.

"Think of it as strength training," Arlo replied. "We can't run today so this'll have to do."

"Let me rephrase that - think Selene could rig something to make this faster?" Sam went on, huffing a bit and stumbling as the ice came loose and she shoved it off to the side. "It's going to take a couple days just to get this ramp cleared off at the rate we're going."

Remington rested the head of the pickaxe on the ground and leaned against the handle, panting. "Let's switch gears and get the snow out of the way - maybe with some sunlight on it the ice'll melt enough to not be such a pain to pop loose."

"Sounds like a plan to me - give me that broom."

----------------------------------------------------

For the last three days, thankfully, the weather had been clear and sunny, if still frigid. Remington had been right regarding the sun and the ice -even with the arctic temperatures it had thinned out enough that they'd managed to clear down to the landing near Gale's house and also the ramp and stairs that connected with Central Plaza. There they'd linked up with Paulie and managed to get a narrow footpath carved out around the border of the plaza leading north to the research center and south to Martha's bakery within an afternoon of work.

There were, out of sheer necessity, already compacted paths along Main Street made by Portia's townsfolk and the few stranded tourists present; once they'd gotten walkways open to Martha's and the research center they'd started working on what had already been worn in by stomping boots around town. It was a bit easier to bust up the compacted pathways and if more willing hands joined them they'd have it done soon enough -- Arlo had estimated another four or five days at most to get it clear even if it was just the three of them the entire time (assuming it didn't snow again). Knowing there was an end coming helped keep spirits high as they shoveled, slowly digging Portia out from under the worst storm anyone could recall in recent memory.

"At least the kids seem to be having a blast," Remington had chuckled as Toby and Polly went whizzing by on polished wooden sleds to thud into a pile of snow they'd left mounded at the base of the tree planter in the center of the plaza. "Going to have to keep an eye on them, make sure if they go out into the countryside they don't go flying out on top of the river - don't need anyone falling through."

From off to their left they heard a sudden cry then, and turned in time to see Erwa lose his footing and fall backwards onto his rump; with the snow mostly cushioning his fall he at least didn't go sliding down the incline behind the two kids but the ice under the snow left him floundering right at Martha's doorstep, unable to get enough purchase to get his feet back under him.

"-speaking of someone falling," Sam grinned. "Come on, let's go help him out."

Arlo turned his back to hide his smile - it felt impolite to laugh at Erwa rolling around in the snow - and kept shoveling, listening as Sam and Remington's footsteps crunched over toward the portly man. The crunching eventually stopped, as did the sound of shoes scratching against ice, and for a brief moment there was the sound of a conversation that was slightly too far off to hear -- the sort of noise where you could recognize someone was talking but not actually make out the individual words.

"'ey, Arlo - have YOU seen Dawa yet today?"

Well, he definitely could hear that. "Can't say I have. Why?" He jammed the tip of the shovel into the snow and turned toward the trio in the distance - Erwa was back on his feet and had his hands out to his sides for balance.

"Because I can't find him, is why," came Erwa's answer. "He wasn't home when I popped in yesterday, and he's not home right now, and I didn't see any new footprints in the snow aside from mine so it doesn't look like I've just missed him each time. It's not like him to NOT be at the tree farm - not for any length of time, anyway. No one else has seen him either."

Arlo frowned - this was NOT the kind of weather anyone should be wandering around in. "Right. We'll look for him. Did anyone see him recently?"

"Not since the day after that storm hit - Emily said she saw him busting ice off the gates to the farm but she's the only one since then."

"Guess we'll start at the farm then and work our way out from there. Let's get moving," Sam said. She took a careful step around Erwa and began to pick her way up the path, trying to stick to the well-worn and frozen over footprints in the snow. Erwa wobbled a bit in place and Remington steadied him with a hand on the shoulder and then Remington was off up the hill too.

Sticking to the path they'd made Arlo headed toward Paulie's store first and left the broom and shovel leaning against the counter, then he too began to carefully climb up the path and toward Peach Plaza. He didn't see anyone else along the way (not that he blamed them - it was bitterly cold) and it didn't take long to meet up with Sam and Remington at the city gates and head out as a group toward the tree farm.

Erwa was right in that there didn't seem to be any new tracks up this way; Arlo could pick out a single set, shaped in such a way that it looked like everyone who'd walked it had all stuck to the same footprints. They too stayed within the tracks, walking in single file all the way up to the farm's gates and beyond, following the footprints up toward the house where the trail then split into five different ones with only one leading up the steps to the building and the others angled out in various directions all seeming to lead out into the groves.

Arlo eyed the tracks - they were all spaced out enough that he doubted any of them met up anywhere close. "Everyone pick a trail and see where it leads. We'll meet back here in a half hour and see what we've found."

Remington picked a trail that headed along the fence line, and Arlo watched the snow fall from the fencing as the man kept a hand on it to steady himself as he headed off. 'Hope his knee isn't bothering him too much,' he found himself thinking -- he tried not to let it slip his mind that Remington's knee wasn't in the best shape but the man went out of his way to hide when the joint was aching anyway. He'd gotten on his case about hiding injuries or aches before but it always seemed to go in one ear and out the other. 'At least we don't lack for ice packs at the moment.'

Arlo shook himself from his thoughts; Sam appeared to have picked a trail that led out to the middle of the tree farm so Arlo chose one that was nearer to the house but angled to the west, and then seemed to veer to skirt along the northern border of the farm. He knew Dawa liked to walk the property a lot -- he needed to, to be able to catch any issues or potential signs of disease in the trees early enough to do anything about it, so him walking about was a usual occurrence...it COULD be that Erwa had just missed him each time he'd visited, and with the weather being so cold no one was really going outside unless they had to so it was possible Dawa had been outside when no one else was around to see him. Both of those were equally as possible as the man being in trouble somewhere out here and Arlo preferred to hope for sheer poorly timed coincidence as he plodded along.

The branches around him sagged and creaked under the weight of the ice, and the further he went the more trees he spotted that were wrapped in heavy rope and what looked like burlap, and in a few places he saw a couple of trees that looked to be slowly splitting in half; one of them he recognized as a tree that had been struck by lightning a few summers ago -- there were thick metal rods connecting the two halves of the tree, and steel cables up in the crown of the tree holding the two halves together. The repair, as ghoulish as it looked, appeared to have actually saved the tree as, once he got up near it, he could see signs where the bark had grown over and bulged out near the bolts that held the rods in place.

Dawa's tracks led right up to this particular tree and went in a circle at its base so clearly the man was keeping a close eye on this one; Arlo edged around the tree and kept going, eying the trail ahead of him and noting how it stopped its meandering among the trees and, about fifty feet ahead of him, straightened out to...hmm.

To the northeast of here Arlo knew was a bridge that crossed the lake that separated the Somber Marsh from the northern shore of Portia's territory along that lake. Unless he was mistaken it sort of looked like Dawa's path was going to lead him directly to that bridge -- the trail had definitely straightened out enough for that to be a viable destination unless it suddenly veered away far enough ahead that Arlo couldn't spot it from here.

It certainly seemed to be case as he drew nearer to the abandoned Old World building that made up part of the northwestern border for the tree farm, and sure enough as soon as he'd walked the length of that building and gotten to the far side of it he could see the bridge in the distance, and Dawa's tracks bee-lined straight for it.

"Why would he go out there..." he wondered aloud. It didn't make sense to go out to the marsh - there wasn't anything out there except monsters and ruins (even the fishing out there was poor). Dawa wasn't the sort to go anywhere near a ruin, he didn't fish, and so far as Arlo knew he'd never gone after monster-based resources on his own -- he wasn't even the sort to deal with monsters when they happened to invade his farm: he'd always enlisted someone else's help to shoo them away or exterminate them.

As he hurried along Arlo mentally cursed the weather as he didn't dare move at a pace faster than a brisk walk unless he wanted to take a tumble; it felt like it took an age to reach the bridge and even longer to carefully climb up the ice-coated wooden ramp and metal steps. Up at the top he could see the tracks heading straight across the bridge; he followed them across and then began to follow a path that seemed to crisscross at random between crumbling rock wall sections, rusted old buildings, and even a couple of gigantic trees that had gaps between exposed roots.

It almost seemed like Dawa was searching for something...but what? What could possibly be out here that he'd be looking for?

The bridge he'd crossed led to one of two large islands in the marsh's lake -- this particular island was known for the two ruins on it: the Deepest Ruin and the Somber Marsh Abandoned Ruins. Dawa's tracks at least didn't lead up to either of those (not that Arlo thought he'd have any reason to go inside either) but eventually the tracks ventured outside of the crumbling, circular stone walls that partially enclosed the ruins, and once those tracks weren't sheltered by the walls they quickly disappeared -- erased by the cutting wind out here that had blown most of the snow away and exposed the ice to the sun (in fact he could almost see dead grass in several spots where the ice had almost melted through).

So Dawa had come out here, searched around, and then headed out of the walls to... The only other places out beyond the walls was another ruined building and a crashed ship that doubled as a bridge to the far side of the marsh, but surely Dawa hadn't gone out THAT far, right?

Rather than trek out there Arlo instead turned to look at the walls -- they were tall enough that maybe they'd give him enough of a vantage point to see if it was even worth it to check the other side of the lake. He fumbled a few times as he climbed (numb fingers - this cold weather was beginning to get on his nerves) and once he was at the top of the wall he saw an unmistakable black smudge on the far shore to the northeast. It was just far enough away that between distance and the glare of the sun off the snow Arlo couldn't make out much more than a dark mark on the ground but whatever it was was pretty big.

He'd definitely need to head over there now, if only to see what that was.

It was too steep to climb down the outer side of the wall so he had to go back the way he'd come up and then take the long way around; the wooden foot bridge that spanned across the two halves of the crashed ship was thankfully still intact and was even mostly thawed out so he got across without issue, and then it was just a matter of getting over to whatever the big black smudge was.

The trees were thick on this side of the lake, both in number and in canopy cover, and the snow had the branches sagging low so it was difficult to see through them; the big black smudge remained a big black smudge until finally Arlo was almost on top of it, and there he noticed two things.

One: the big black smudge was a freshly opened sink hole.

And two: there were footprints in the mud that ringed the opening that led to a long skidmark suggesting someone had slid in.

The sinkhole wasn't perfectly circular and was about twenty feet across at its widest point, surrounded by upturned rocks and broken tree roots, and the wind whistled eerily over the gaping hole. The earth around the sinkhole was sludgy and angled sharply downward toward the opening as well - he didn't dare get close enough to look into the sinkhole or else he'd risk falling in himself.

'I guess Dawa must have heard this thing opening up and came looking for what caused the noise, and fell in.'

"Dawa?" he yelled toward the opening. His voice echoed back to him; there wasn't a response. "Dawa?" he tried again, louder. Again there was no answer aside from the howl of the wind in the hole.

...if the wrapped trees were any indication then Dawa had to have rope stored somewhere on the farm, and there were trees enough here to tie off to provide a handhold to get close enough to investigate.

Arlo turned and began to hurry back the way he'd come -- by now Sam and Remington would probably be waiting for him anyway, and he'd need their help to get down into the hole.

----------------------------------------------------

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah. You and Sam got me beat in the raw strength category, and if I do find Dawa down there he might need the help to haul him out. I'm pretty sure I can get down there and back out without a problem but I can't promise about him - especially if we don't know how far down this thing goes."

Arlo nodded at Remington; he did have a point - they had no way of knowing if Dawa was in any shape to climb out of there. "All right. Sam and I will wait up here - tug on that rope four times if you need us to help pull you up."

"Give me that other coil, there -- no telling how deep this goes."

Sam handed over a spare coil of rope which Remington slung over his shoulder bandolier-style, then with a nod he grabbed hold of the other rope - the one carefully tied to a nearby tree - and began to carefully edge his way forward toward the sinkhole's edge; the mud here went up to his ankles and then midway up his shins before he got to where he could slip over the edge and begin to carefully rappel down into the darkness.

------------------------------------------------------

Once he was over the lip and down about fifteen feet the incessant howl of the wind across the sinkhole's opening ceased, and now all Remington could hear as he picked his way down was the crumbling of dirt and rock each time his boots touched the wall, and somewhere he could hear a trickle of dripping water -- probably melting snow, and the last thing this sinkhole needed was more moisture to cause a further collapse.

He estimated he was about thirty feet down when he wrapped his legs and one arm around the rope to hold himself in place long enough to use his other hand to click on the little headlamp they'd borrowed from Selene; around him the dark dirt seemed to swallow up the pale yellow light and as he looked down his heart jumped a bit as the lamp illuminated roots and vines that jutted out of the sinkhole's walls.

And the vines looked like they'd once been thick and had choked this entire area out but now there was a large gap through their center, and he could see the glimmer of sap leaking out of hundreds of split and broken ends of the plants as he steadily lowered himself toward them.

"Well, at least something slowed the fall," he mumbled as he went -- he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been silently panicking a little bit as the depth of this hole began to sink in (no pun intended) coupled with the fact that he hadn't seen Dawa or even signs of him until this point. If the vines had slowed and cushioned the man's fall then there was a pretty good chance he'd survived the drop.

Remington kept at it with his steady rhythm as he rappelled, and then just above where the vines began his boots hit the wall with a muffled thump; again he held himself in place as he experimentally stomped a boot against the wall and again got the thump -- it almost sounded like metal. He let himself drop a few feet more and then used a hand to dig and pry at the wall ahead of him; something bit into his finger and he yanked his hand back and (perhaps stupidly) stuck his fingers into his mouth but there in the light of his headlamp was a dull, reflective metal visible through the grime he'd scraped free.

This sinkhole must have opened into an underground ruins.

The way down became more difficult as now he had to pick his way through the vines that crisscrossed what he suspected was some sort of ancient elevator shaft as he was starting to see door-like shapes at through the gloom and vine cover regular intervals as he went. Eventually he reached the end of the rope he'd been using to climb down and he wedged himself into a little gap in front of what he was now sure was a doorway, and tied off the rope's end to the coil he'd brought down with him. When he was certain it was securely tied he let the coil drop and listened as it hit something not too far away beneath him -- apparently there WAS an intact bottom to this shaft, and it was a lot closer than he'd thought.

He went the distance of four more "floors" and then finally he was almost on top of a rusted out elevator...pod? Car? What did the Old World call these things? It was the thing that carried people up and down the cables - whatever it was called didn't really matter at the moment, honestly.

From here he could see the ragged hole in the top where Dawa must have either fallen or climbed through, and the metal around that hole was sagging under the weight of the rope coil he'd tossed down; without a doubt it would fully collapse under his weight, so Remington was careful to aim himself at that hole and slide down through it, pulling the coil of rope with him and finally getting his boots back on solid ground within the elevator...thingy.

The air down here was heavy and smelled of dirt and rot; Dawa had already forced the elevator doors open and beyond it was a hallway full of dust and moldering old carpet. Remington could see footprints in the dust (really, the carpet had mostly rotted into dust itself) and began to follow them...not that he really needed them as there wasn't anywhere he could see to go except down the hallway, though there were doors to his left and right. He did stop to try one of the doors and couldn't see a way to get it open -- they had no handles and were almost flush with the walls.

"Dawa? You down here?" he called ahead of him.

There wasn't anything except his own echo so he kept going. Ahead of him the hallway turned to the left, and the closer he came to the corner the more apparent a thudding, dragging noise was beginning to become, until finally--

"Dawa!"

There around the corner was Dawa -- he had his hand up shielding his eye's from the glare of Remington's headlamp, and was dotted with bruises and cuts that left dozens of bloody spots across his clothing. "Never been happier to see someone in my life, I was running out of matches," came the man's reply.

"The feeling's mutual - had no idea what to expect to find down here," Remington laughed. He reached up to slide the headlamp over to his temple so he could look at Dawa without blinding him. "You in one shape, more or less?"

"I've been better - not worried about a few bruises but I'm ready to eat an entire cow by myself."

Remington nodded. "I bet. Come on, let's get you out of here."

"Yeah, about that... Don't know that I can climb out of here. Not on my leg, anyway."

Dawa gestured toward his left leg and Remington brought the headlamp around again; the yellow of the lamp made the bruised and swollen ankle look ten times worse than it probably was, but even still it was the size of a small melon and looked rather painful. "Ah. Hmm. Well, we've got Sam and Arlo up there ready to pull you out."

"Don't know if I'd trust that -- I mean, don't get me wrong, I trust THEM. But at current I don't trust gravity, friction, or the structural integrity of a regular ol' rope. Not even sure I could hold on the entire time to make it out of here either."

"How'd you end up down here anyway?"

Dawa huffed out an annoyed sound. "It's dumb. It's really dumb. So, I heard a noise out here and went looking - you know how I've been keeping an eye out for Aadit, after that Knight scared him off. So I hear this noise and I think to myself, maybe it's him, or maybe it's that damned Knight come back and is up to no good. I wait out the storm then walk out here and it takes awhile to find anything weird - but eventually I find this hole, and when I went to look at it it became a bigger hole and I fell right in."

Remington blinked at him. "Became a BIGGER hole?"

"Yeah, a bigger hole - it was barely bigger than I am when I spotted it. I guess it'd started opening before all the snow and ice hit, and the storm must've formed a crust over the actual size of the hole because I definitely wasn't near the opening when it all broke loose under me and dumped me in." He paused and looked around them. "Who knew there was an old ruin out here completely underground? Usually these things have some sort of above ground entrance. Wouldn't have gotten near if I'd thought it'd lead to this."

"Yeah...wouldn't have expected something like this." Remington rubbed at his chin, thinking -- if Dawa couldn't make it out on his own and didn't think the others could pull him out, then they'd need to find another way up. "You know, on the way down here I saw a lot of elevator doors lining the shaft. We're down pretty deep but maybe we can find a way to link up with a floor that's higher up and climb up out of that floor's door."

"Yeah...yeah, I like that idea. I think I could do a shorter climb, no problem. And I DID find another elevator back that way-" Dawa jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Couldn't get the door open though, and even if I could've I don't think there's any power going to it anymore."

Remington nodded and then dropped to a knee to swing his pack off his back; he rummaged through it and pulled out an old, battered water bottle. "All right, here's the plan then: I'm going to climb back up and let Sam and Arlo know you're all right, and have one of them get Selene or Higgins so we can get this elevator back up and running." He handed the bottle to Dawa, who began to chug from it noisily. "-I'll also get them to bring you something to eat, too."

"You're a lifesaver, Remington. In this case literally."

With a chuckle Remington pulled his pack back on and tightened the straps. "S'what we do. You need anything else in the meantime?"

"Don't think so. It's actually not so bad down here if you get away from the shaft and around the corner."

"What's ahead of here?"

"There's this big room back there - it's got some old furniture in it, some tables and chairs and a counter. Might've been some old cafeteria or something. Been back there since it's warmer."

"All right, then. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Remington heard a 'don't slip' behind him as he turned to head off; it was going to be a long climb back up.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 1 #Arlo #Sam #Remington #Erwa #Dawa #Builder #My Time at Portia

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