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#lake is more rewarding than recalling to you when you have nothing to offer him in return
beansnpeets · 15 days
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Thinking about human behaviour compared to animal behaviour again.
It's funny to hear people (the older gens) complaining that "kids these days are lazy, they don't wanna work, etc." What do we get for busting our asses? There is no reward. Many will never own homes. Many are unemployed, trying to find work, and nobody will hire them because they don't have a million years experience and a masters degree OR they want people to work for minimum wage??? People are giving up because there is no reward. Why would we do all this for nothing?
Same as a dog that won't recall when you haven't reinforced it with a reward. Your dog isn't going to do what you tell it to if there is no incentive. No, your dog SHOULDN'T listen just because you're boss and it should respect you. That isn't how it works. They don't think that way. And honestly neither do people.
When we went hiking Sprocket wasn't always taking treats gently from me when I recalled her or she checked in and I rewarded and my one friend told me to stop giving her treats. I told him I won't work for free so why should she. And he said "I do things for free all the time because I want to do them," and I didn't say it then, but I wish I had, but if you like doing it, that's the incentive. It's a self-rewarding behaviour. Just like anything else a dog does, like chasing a squirrel or sniffing things or getting into the trash. Heeling instead of going off to sniff stuff or recalling off of something they want to chase is something you have to reinforce. You have to give them something better so they make the choice you want them to make. They won't make it just because they *respect* you. They won't willingly recall off of exciting prey out of RESPECT. You need to give them a tangible reward for that. You cannot possibly expect your dog to listen just because and then punish them for disobeying you.
Yeah, Sprocket bit my fingers a couple times. The one time pretty hard. But she was excited. She knows how to take gently and I reminded her and she tried very hard to be gentle most of the time. I wasn't going to stop rewarding her for checking in with me and recalling while we were off leash hiking in the woods. I want her to know that coming back to me is good and in the event of an emergency I would like her to not blow me off.
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Please, how do I make money fast in dol?? I've always played with cheats on cuz I'm a pussy. I've gotten better from my past no cheats on playthroughs, but still, I still would like to know from the pro, my favorite dol account. Please, tell us your ways🛐
Huh... And here I thought money is the last thing you need to worry about when you've been playing long enough on one save. Alright, I doubt anything I'm gonna say is new, but since you asked so nicely, I'll go into details with my 4 PCs and highlight their most rewarded methods.
In general, early game is always tricky since your stats are low. High Math grade and higher certain stats make things easier.
1. Lya
- She used to be a massage staff at the Spa. High enough beauty (4/6 if I remember right) or hand skill is required to work there, and high dance skill make it fairly safe. Higher promiscuity and skuldugery open chances for lewder things and more money.
- Antique hunting. At the lake. High swimming skill recommended. And down the sewer too. I only intended to grind her skuldugery, but then she started to get attached to Winter so she go hunt antique for him ever since. Then the old church yard too. Still the Ivory necklace is a no.
- Dancing jobs. Charlie's Danube street job and at the brothel. Not the strip club but the brothel. Higher skuldugery can only be grinded while encountering so yeah, she work at the brothel for a pretty long time and install the vending machine there too.
- Be a model at Niki's studio.
- Working at Sirris' adult toy shop and selling flowers at the market sometime.
- Alex farm. Invested in the Farm, make things automatic and safe, then brought things to the Harvest street for sale. It's pretty okay and leisurely too.
- The doting Hawk spouse. Yes. Sometimes she goes to the tower to relax, getting away from the dirty town. When you're with the Hawk you just have to sleep, bath, sing all day, maybe walk around the moor a bit, be pretty and wait for the goodest bord to bring things back to you and sell them to Landry later.
2. Lyah
- Being Avery escort. Yeah help very much in the early game. He still keep her company sometime now.
- Steal things from people. He make the most out of his Devil tf to get into encounter, steal, then tell people to stop. Work like a champ. His skuldugery went up fastest out of all 4 PCs.
- Bartender at Strip Club. He works there for fun and to look out for Darryl, but sometimes encounter happen. So it still counts. Vending machine still installed at the Brothel.
- Chef. The ultimate way to make money. Even without Cow tf he still make a LOT out of it, being devoid of purity and lactating mean he has lots of bodily fluids to spare. Just a few hours of "work" and remember to save some for his wife, and the money is insane.
3. Kariya
- Doing odd jobs in the street. Usually to get into encounters.
- Working at the Agency.
- Seducing someone randomly at the Pub, the Farm, at nights,... You name it.
- Get up early and pick the locks of every house or building before they open for the day.
- Playing cards with Wren. Every-single-day. They often just continue untill the lewd part happen. That's their fav part anw. And running around butt-naked with Wren too.
- Dancing and Private shows at the Brothel. Mostly for fun but their money primarily comes from these activities. Briar's most fav worker for sure.
4. "Nyan"
- Working at the Dog Pound and Sam's Cafe (waiter only)
- Doing odd jobs in the street for Housekeeping skill, sometime pick locks and steal from Danube street.
- Temple monthly allowance. Even at max Grace it's not much, but still better than nothing.
- Charlie's dancing job. Charlie offered the safe job, but Nyan often asked for the more dangerous one. Jordan asked him to investigate anyway.
- Antique hunting in the lake, etc... Nyan is still in the build, so he mostly stick with his older siblings safer choices.
Okay, there, I think that's basically things I can recall for now. Also since all my PCs are Robin protectors, they mainly stick to safer paths and don't go away from the Orphanage for too long unless they can't help it. So huge chance there are many more ways to make bigger bucks that I'm not aware of yet. Still, hope this helps!
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imjustthemechanic · 3 years
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The Price of a Soul
Part 1/? - Agent Russel Part 2/? - The Letter Part 3/? - Miss Lake Part 4/? - The Stewardess Part 5/? - An Assassination Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - Face to Face Part 8/? - Deals, Details, and Other Devils Part 9/? - Baggage Part 10/? - Private Funding Part 11/? - Just Passing Through Part 12/? - Party of Four Part 13/? - Resolute Part 14/? - The Wreck Part 15/? - Body Snatchers Part 16/? - Out of the Frying Pan Part 17/? - A Miracle Part 18/? - A Matter of Circumstance Part 19/? - Nome Part 20/? - The Future Part 21/? - A Hero’s Welcome Part 22/? - Up to Speed Part 23/? - Expect Further Delays Part 24/? - The Welcome Wagon
This is where it all goes a bit pear-shaped.
-
Peggy did not like romantic novels.  There was so much more to life and to happiness than who a person, man or woman, married, and if more people understood that, fewer women would marry useless arseholes.  The very worst of the lot were the stories in which the heroine had to choose between two men… and so Peggy was especially annoyed to find herself living one for the second time.
It would have been more bearable, she thought, if it hadn’t been such a distraction.  Jason and Daniel had been competing for her affections when she really should have been focusing on their problem with the Zero Matter and Agnes Cully.  Now there was the question of Kay Lake and whether she were trustworthy, and the recapture of Dottie, and Steve’s sudden return and what Masters might try to do about it… and once again, Peggy had to worry instead about men.  Bloody ridiculous.
At least for the moment she wasn’t given time to dwell on it.  In the morning the entire group – herself, Kay, Steve, Howard, and Jason, with Masters leading the way – got on a chartered plane to head back to New York City.  Peggy settled into her seat, wondering if any sort of record existed for how many times a person had flown across the continent in a month’s time.  Perhaps TWA ought to offer some kind of reward for such things… discounts or something for those who made the trip often.
Kay sat down beside Peggy.  Nobody questioned this.  Everybody assumed the women would want to sit together.  Steve, Howard, Jason, and Masters were four aisle seats further back, so they would all be able to talk to each other.
“So it didn’t go well last night, huh?” Kay asked.  She buckled her seat belt, and it occurred to Peggy that must be what she’d been looking for in the car.  Were drivers more reckless in the USSR, that they needed seat belts in their cars?
“It went about as well as could be expected,” Peggy replied.  “I told him what I told Daniel, that I need some time to think and I don’t know how long that will be.  And frankly,” she added, “I don’t think it’s a bit of your business.”
“No, probably not,” Kay admitted.  “When I knew him Steve was very lonely.  I kept trying to set him up with women I knew but he wasn’t interested in it.  He did go out with your niece for a while.”
Peggy frowned.  “I don’t have a niece,” she said.  Her brother’s wife had given birth to a boy four months after Michael himself went MIA, but she had not yet remarried and any further children she might have would not be Peggy’s nieces and nephews.
“Sorry, your grand-niece,” Kay corrected herself.  “Your nephew’s daughter.”
Michael Carter Jr was not quite five years old.  The idea of him someday having adult children seemed very distant indeed.
Something about what Kay had said seemed a little odd.  Peggy thought over it and recalled that Kay had said love is for children and called Steve a friend… now she described having tried to find him a partner other than herself.  “You never had a date with him yourself?”
“Never,” Kay said firmly.  “We were co-workers.  It wouldn’t have ended well… I know that from experience,” she added with a grimace.  “Anyway, I’m not exactly the ‘settle down on a farm with three kids and a dog’ type.”
“Neither am I,” Peggy said.
The plane rumbled into the sky.  Kay kept her seat belt on the entire flight, except when she got up to use the washroom.  She also claimed to be surprised by how nice the food was, as if Masters wouldn’t go out of his way to get the best gourmet fare in order to compete with Howard.
Arriving in Los Angeles, there’d been fanfare waiting for them, but it was nothing compared to what they saw as they landed at Newark that evening.  The Empire State Building was lit up red, white, and blue, visible for miles around, and somebody had set out thousands of lights in the laws around the airport to form the letters WELCOME HOME CAP.  The plane circled to give the passengers a better view of all this before landing, and taxied onto tarmac that was lit up like a football pitch.
There’d been dozens of people in LA.  Here there must have been hundreds if not thousands who gathered around as the airstair was lowered.  So many flashbulbs popped that it seemed like the entire crowd was glittering.
“You see that?” Masters asked Steve.  “They’re here to see you, son.”
Steve nodded and forced his face into the fake smile he’d used to give crowds on his war bonds tours – Peggy remembered it all too well – and headed down the stairs.  President Truman was at the bottom, waiting to shake his hand.
Howard got up next.  “Jason,” he said, “and ladies – come on.  They’re waiting for us, too.”
“We’re very much an afterthought,” Peggy told him, but she got up and grabbed her purse and hat, and she, too, smiled as they headed down the steps to catch up.
Masters was waiting at the bottom with a proud smile on his face, and Steve’s own smile certainly warmed into something more genuine when he remembered his friends were still with him.
“Mr. President,” he said, “I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the people who brought me home.  You probably know Howard Stark…”
“We sure do,” said Howard, shaking the president’s hand.  “How’s it going, Harry?”
“Not bad,” Truman replied, with a nod to Steve.  “Not too bad at all.”
“This is Dr. Jason Wilkes, who helped build and operate the ice-penetrating sonar,” Howard added.
“Mr. President,” said Jason.
“Dr. Wilkes.  A pleasure,” Truman replied.
“And Agent Margaret Carter and Agent Katherine Lake, who found the crash site,” said Steve.
“Ladies,” the President smiled at them, and kissed each of their hands.
At the front of the crowd, Peggy caught sight of Thompson and several other SSR men.  That was a bit of a surprise.  Dottie had already escaped from under his nose once, followed by Kay.  She would have thought he’d be unwilling to let his prisoner out of his sight.  And was that Agent Russel behind him?  Peggy would have to ask what was going on.
President Truman stepped up to a podium and began giving a speech with Steve standing awkwardly at his side, while secret service men came to escort the rest of the group to cars.  Peggy had no idea where they were going but assumed it would be to a hotel.  They’d had a long day of travelling after all, and would have more people to meet tomorrow.  Howard and Jason got in one car, while Peggy and Kay got in another.
Thompson came and got in with them.  “Evening, ladies,” he said.
“Hello, Thompson,” said Peggy.
“Hi, Jack,” said Kay.  “Did you miss me?”
Thompson didn’t answer.  The driver started the car and headed out of the airport.  The second car, with Howard and Jason, was right behind them until they reached Route 95.  Peggy expected them to turn north in order to go to Manhattan, but instead they kept going onto Route 100.  The lights of the other car did not follow.
“Excuse me,” Peggy began.
“Dottie’s been talking,” said Thompson.
Peggy froze.
“What did she say?” she asked.
“She said quite a bit,” Thompson replied, taking a set of handcuffs out of his jacket.  “You let an enemy of the state out of prison, Marge.  Twice.  I’m placing you under arrest for treason.  You…”
Kay moved as fast as a striking snake.  Before anybody had time to blink, she had the handcuffs out of Thompson’s hand and the chain across his neck, ready to strangle him with it.
“Stop the car,” she ordered, “or I’ll crush his windpipe!”
“Keep going!” Thompson countered.  “They can’t jump out if we’re moving!”  He made a strangled sound as Kay tightened the cuffs.
“You were saying?” she hissed.
Peggy thought fast… she knew that Masters had been Thompson’s mentor and the two of them were probably in constant communication.  Masters therefore knew that Thompson had been planning to arrest her.  No wonder he’d been so pleased to let her and Kay come along with Steve to New York!  But she had a choice to make now.  She could let Thompson arrest her and take her chances in court.  Certainly Steve would be a hell of a character witness but Dottie’s testimony would be incredibly damaging, and there was the small, inconvenient fact that Peggy had actually done what she was being accused of.
Or she could flee and become a wanted fugitive in the country she’d worked so hard to protect.  That wasn’t a good option either.
“Kay,” she said.  “Let him go.”
“You can’t go to prison,” Kay told her.  “You’re too important.”
“You said you don’t know what the future is going to be anymore,” Peggy said.  “All you’re doing right now is committing another crime.”
“I want to keep the good parts of the future,” said Kay.
“Me being a criminal is not a good future,” Peggy told her.
“I agree,” Kay said.  She opened the car door and threw Thompson out.  By the light of the streetlamps Peggy could see him tumble limply into a ditch.  The driver cried out in surprise and began to slow down.  Horns blared all around them.
“What are you doing?” Peggy demanded.
“Well, you’re apparently just going to sit there!” Kay told her.  She climbed into the front seat and hit the man on the passenger’s side with the handcuffs.  He wobbled, and Kay kicked the door open to let him fall out onto the pavement.
No wonder she thought cars needed seatbelts.
A few more seconds, and the driver was out of the vehicle, too.  Kay settled herself in the seat and took the next exit.  Peggy climbed up into the front seat next to her.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“South into New Jersey.  I know some places there we might be able to hide… assuming they’ve been built yet,” Kay replied.
“You realize we’re now in ten times more trouble than we already were,” Peggy pointed out.
“What were you going to do, just let him lock you up?” Kay demanded.
“I would certainly have tried to get out of it legitimately before I resorted to breaking any more laws!” Peggy replied.  Her eyes went to the door.  Could she just jump out, like the men had been thrown?  That seemed like a terrible idea, but it might be her only option.  “What are you planning to do now?”
“I don’t know,” Kay replied.  “None of this was part of my plan.  I’ll think of something!”
“I can hardly wait to see what it is!” Peggy snapped.
Kay found her way from road to road and eventually seemed to settle on heading south, back into New Jersey.  They passed through Newark, avoiding the airport this time, and headed through the series of small towns beyond.  Peggy thought some more about jumping out of the car, but did not get so far as actually doing it.  If she did, Kay would come after her… and she had much more faith in her own ability to avoid the SSR than to escape this implacable woman.
While Peggy sat sullenly in the passenger’s seat, Kay kept her eyes on the road, driving in silence.  Occasionally the two would glance at each other, trying to assess what the other was thinking, and catch each other’s eye, but then they would quickly look away again.  Forest began to roll by outside, as the two of them sat in uneasy silence.
“I shouldn’t have come with you to Canada,” Kay said finally.  “I should have stayed in New York.  Then I would have gotten to talk to Barynova before anybody else did.  That was my original plan.”
“You should have,” Peggy agreed.  “Why did you change your mind?”
“Because I knew you were going, and I wanted to be there,” said Kay.  “That’s it, honestly.  I wanted to be there when he woke up, because then I would… then I would know I’d really done it.  I knew he would have no idea who I was, but I wanted to be there.  Which was a mistake.”
Was it?  Peggy wasn’t sure.  Kay was the only one who’d known that Steve was still alive.  Howard had intended to ship him back to the United States still frozen for embalming.  Masters had meant to cut him open for study before he was even fully thawed.  Either way, if she’d stayed in New York, the likelihood was that they’d be burying Steve instead of introducing him to the president.
Not that anybody would ever know now.
They drove into the Pine Barrens, a wood that was spooky and uninhabited by daylight and far more so in the dark.  Eventually, Kay pulled onto the side of the road and leaned on the steering wheel.
“It’s not here,” she said.
“What were you looking for?” Peggy wanted to know.
“An old bomb shelter,” Kay replied.  “I thought it dated from World War II, but I guess not, because we should have passed it by now.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Kay leaned her head back on the car seat and rubbed her face.  “I have no idea.”
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batsoulscrolls · 3 years
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PMD: Unbounded Fates
Chapter 6
Weeks after
[PEV] [NEXT]
Three weeks has passed by since Sevin's first job but all of the jobs he's been doing that Ruby picked are mostly the same, go to some shop or restaurant of some kind in the town and make sure no fights break out but none even do. Ruby has been less frequent of her insults to Sevin but it becomes more personal but it strangely doesn’t bother him and Sevin is trying to talk to Ruby but she gives him the cold shoulder or barely gives a response other than telling him what to do and not even bothering to say his name. Doc came over to Sevin during the second week mostly to check on his shotty memories asking questions like “do you know any family members name” and “do you know where you lived or what area?”. Sevin can only remember  the area he lived in; it was dry, sometimes dusty, hot, and barren.
But now Sevin is waiting for Ruby to pick a job which she has been taking for a long time. Ruby picks one and gives it to Sevin like always he reads the paper first and it is different. It says someone needs their help with making something, it has a name but he can’t read it even though his understanding of the strange written language has gotten better.
Sevin gives the paper to Murkrow which she accepts and both Sevin and Ruby make their way, Sevin follows Ruby like always. Both pass through town making it to the other side Sevin tries to start up a conversation again “Soo why did you pick this job in particular from the other ones we do?”
“Got bored of the jobs cause nothing happenes and there was none on the board.”
“Well I think it's a good change, I never really liked those kinds of jobs.”
“Well there are only high paying jobs and I need the Poké to get out of the jail made apartments.”
“Well I can lend you some of my Poké if ya need it.”
“Well I don't want your Poké Zoroark”
“I have a name you know?”
“Yea I know your name, I just chose not to use it.”
Before Sevin can say any more they arrive at their destination, a house just on the edge of the forest that surrounds the town. The house itself is fairly large; the door is almost twice Sevin size. Moss mostly covered the base of the house while vines crawl on its sides, like the forest itself is trying to claim this house for itself. Sevin goes to the fairly large door and knocks. Sevin begins to hear large thumps becoming louder and louder then it stops at the door. The door gently goes back to reveal Mama Argon with a sweet smile. “Little Zorua what are you doing here?”
“You posted a job saying you needed help.” Sevin replied
Mama Argon looked surprised “Oh, I didn’t know you joined the program. Well, if helps you-” Ruby interrupts sounding a bit fussy “Excuse me but can you tell us what we need to do? So I can leave you two your reunion or something.”
Mama Argon gives a stern look to Ruby who repays by giving one back. Mama Argon goes back into the house and comes back with a large woven basket. Then hands it to Ruby which she struggles to hold. Mama gives a smile “I need this basket filled with Cornn Berries, so off you go I need Little Zorua to help me prepare the pies.”
Ruby walks off as Mama gives a wave and then ushers Sevin inside. Once inside the living room it almost looks like Cindy’s living room but a lot smaller and to the left is a kitchen where the books would be, the living room part has lots of rugs almost covering every inch and one the two stumps seats is large and covered in a cloth handmade it seems. As for the kitchen it has cupboards and counters but a stone oven separate in the middle. Mama goes to the kitchen and pulls an entourage of wooden pie pans. Sevin picks one up “Are you sure this would handle the heat?”
Mama grabbing the ingredients to make pie dough “Well of course it can handle the heat, they're made from the trees at mt.Famma. Which is still spewing lava if I recall. But anyways, mix these ingredients together into this bowl.”
Mama passes over several small bowls containing the ingredients salt,sugar,flour, and water. Then hands him a large bowl and a stick with a flat top. “Place the ingredients into the bowl, mix it until it gets hard then fluff it with your hands. While you do that I’ll prepare the other berries to cook.”
Sevin puts the ingredients together and begins to mix. Mama also does her part pulling and slicing the berries “How Cindy doing Little Zorua?”
“She is doing fine." Sevin replies
Sevin stops mixing as he realised he over mixed the pie dough, he gives a defeated sigh. Mama just gives a small laugh as gabs the bowl and begins to place the dough into the pans then molds it. Then she places the berries into pies then places them into the oven. “Hey Mama, did you send Ruby to grab some berries for the pies?” Sevin question
“Well of course I did but the Cornn berries are way out of season so she won’t find any.” Mama explains
“But I didn’t do it without reason, I did it because I wanted to talk about her with you.” Mama adds
“I know she is a bit rude and a bit mean, but she is ok I guess.”
“I know she is a good pokemon Little Zorua, but she reminds me a lot like me….a pokemon with some problems.”
“What are you trying to imply Mama?”
“What I’m implying is you should talk about your sacr, give some ground she could relate too. I may be an old battle-worn Argon, but I’m still wise enough to tell you to stand your ground and put up a barrier for her not to cross.”
Sevin wants to say something but Mama is right he does need to talk to ruby “Ok I’ll talk to Ruby.”
Mama just pulls the pies out the oven then pulls a cloth out the cupboards and wraps around one of the pies, then gives it to Sevin along with the red ticket. “Here a small extra reward Little Zorua and tell Ruby to place the basket near the door.”
Sevin leaves the house saying his goodbye to Mama. As takes the outside view he sees Ruby furiously walking towards him. Oddly Sevin find this funny he try his best not to laugh but instead  a grin lays on his face “Just put the basket near the door, we are done with the job.”
Ruby tosses the baset and leaves, Sevin follows. Once at the bord Sevin turns in the ticket and grab the reward, 200 poké they only get but instead of spitting it 50/50 like Sevin alway do he just gives it to Ruby “Here I don’t need the cash, I got pie. Also I need to talk about something.”
“Yea sure we can talk….tomorrow.” Ruby responds walking away
Sevin doesn’t take this lightly and rushes up to Ruby “I want to talk now not tomorrow Ruby. It's not gonna take too much of your time.”
Ruby stops and turns around and crosses her arms waiting for Sevin. Sevin takes a deep breath and exhales “Look I know that you don't like me, you made it pretty obvious when we both met. You don't have to like me but be at least somewhat nice to me. Also I shoulda told you this earlier, but I need to tell you how I got this scar on my eye. I woke up near a lake with no memories. I didn't even know my own name till a day later. Even then it was just an alias, but when I went down the beach I was jumped and lost my eye. Now I can't shake the feeling I’m being watched by someone. So can you stop with the insults and try to be a bit nice to me?”
Ruby just walks away not giving the slightest response and Sevin just stands there and watches. Sevin walks back to Cindy’s house where Cindy herself is reading. Sevin offers some pie which she accepts and both have some pie. The pie was good
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mlpdestinyverse · 5 years
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“Paralleled”
Feat.  Astral Dusk, Terra Rosa
To help her son make friends, Sunset Shimmer brings Astral Dusk on a camping trip in the human universe. There, he’s introduced to human Twilight’s energetic daughter, Terra Rosa. And while the two discover their similarities and forge a friendship, Astral becomes a little too aware of their differences...to the point of questioning if they will last.
Story and Description Under The Cut (this is a long one!)
Sunset Shimmer had shared many fascinating stories about her old home with her son over the years. According to her, this wouldn't be Astral Dusk's first time visiting the dimension beyond the Crystal Mirror in Princess Twilight's possession. While he couldn't fully recall his earliest memories as a toddler, Astral did have the faintest memory of being carried into a world with sights so similar to his own yet simultaneously unfamiliar and strange for the young colt. Or...boy, as Astral Dusk was there. It was a rather sudden idea proposed by his mother; a two-week-long camping trip planned and prepared a few weeks ahead of time for fall break. The fact that his mother would throw together such an impromptu trip in autumn instead of waiting until spring or summer was beyond him. Sunset Shimmer had been eager and insistent when she initially brought up her plans to him. They would be visiting old friends of hers who owned the very camp they would be visiting. But more importantly, there was someone she wanted him to meet. That vague tidbit did nothing to help Astral with his nerves or the uncomfortable twinge of uncertainty in his stomach. His father opting out of going, volunteering to stay behind and watch over his baby sister instead, didn't help either. But to say he wasn't even a little curious of the alternate world his mother once dwelled in would be a lie... The closer the day of the trip came, the more Astral noticed his mother scribbling in her magic journal. It was no doubt for the other, "alternate" Twilight Sparkle, the one who was neither a master of magic nor a princess. That alone was a concept that baffled him. His mother explained how communication and timing were vital when crossing between worlds. Having someone as a look-out on the other side helped avoid detection from the other inhabitants. Also according to his mother, even if it meant an early visit, Astral would come to appreciate having extra time to adjust to his "altered body" before leaping into full-blown dimensional-hopping adventures. With that said, and with two days remaining before the start of the camping trip, Astral wasn't sure what to expect when he pressed up close to his mother, bracing himself while stepping into the rippling, doorway-like mirror. On the first day - once Astral had learned that trotting around on four limbs wasn't quite appropriate for a human, nor was it proper to ogle the long, wiggly digits that stuck out of his flabby "hands" - the boy was able to acknowledge the lady who was waiting for them. She had bright pink curly locks and a smile so wide it would have been intimidating if his mother hadn't been so ecstatic to see her. If that hadn't been enough to give away the lady's identity, then the welcoming canon of sprinkle-flavored confetti sure did. The human Pinkie Pie practically pranced around as she led Astral and Sunset around the city, cheerfully introducing him to each and every store, and nook, and...tree. And rock, though that might have just been her older sister's pet? It was never made clear. The whole time, Astral found one of his hands clinging onto the fabric of his mother's sleeve, nervous of every passing human because why, why were they so tall and looming and vertical. How could they constantly stay balanced on their hind legs when he could barely go a few steps without almost toppling over himself? Thankfully the longer the group walked around the city, the more familiar he became with his new legs. And at the end of the trek, the two women brought the boy to a diner and rewarded him with ice cream. Familiar tasting ice cream, topped with...confetti-flavored sprinkles. Huh. The second day came. After Astral and Sunset had returned home to rest before diving back into the mirror, a different friend of his mother's took time out of her schedule to meet with them. Her light pink hair was pulled back into a long ponytail and she offered him a much softer, kinder smile. The moment he was brought into a shelter full of friendly animals, almost all the stress and caution Astral had felt building within himself melted away. For literal hours as his mother and her friend chatted, the boy practiced making use of his tiny flat hands to pet every willing creature within his reach. And as he did, Astral wondered if a world that lacked magical beasts yet kept the existence of rabbits and kittens could really be all that bad. Then came the third day, the official start of their camping trip. He and Sunset carried saddlebags and two duffel bags as they once again stepped hoof into the portal. But on the other side was a completely new sight standing just a few yards away. A surprising one at that. His mother hadn't been joking about there being a second Twilight Sparkle, though this human Twilight noticeably wore glasses and had shorter hair. And despite this Twilight lacking the regality his alicorn princess possessed, something about the way her expression lit up, as well as the warmth of her welcoming smile, struck close to home. "Welcome, you guys! It's so great to see you!" Astral didn't get a chance to process a response. His teal eyes shifted down and he found two different colored eyes blinking back at him. Another kid around his age stood beside "Ms. Twilight" (as Sunset informed him to call her, for the sake of differentiating). Their round freckled face was framed with short curls of purple and light green hair. Tightly clutching a panda-like backpack within their arms, the kid stared back at him with a mix of wide-eyed disbelief and awe. Astral's mother leaned down to his level then, giving him a playful smirk. "Surprise~" Before the boy could shoot Sunset a questioning look, Ms. Twilight chuckled and also bent down to her kid's height. "You guys were just babies when you met for the first time! But we both thought now was a better time than ever to get you two to know each other." Ms. Twilight placed her hand on the other kid's shoulder. "As you might know Astral, I'm Twilight Sparkle! And this..." Glancing over at the child with warm eyes, the older lady gently squeezed their shoulder. "Is my daughter, Terra Rosa. Terra, this is Ms. Shimmer's son, Astral Dusk. The one I told you about?" Neither children said anything as they gazed at one another. Astral shifted, awkwardness beginning to settle in. "Uh...hi-" Terra Rosa suddenly advanced forward, her eyes honed in on him. Her small legs briskly moved with the sound of her shoes tapping against the paved path before she stopped right in front of him. Up-close it was evident that the girl was brimming with wonder and excitement that her slightly shorter body could barely contain. With her arms still hugging her backpack against her chest, Terra Rosa's one green and one violet eye were both rounded as she whispered loudly to him. "Did you really just come from another world?" Astral wasn't sure how to respond other than to nervously swallow and nod. That apparently was all Terra needed to release a noise that was between a squeak and a squeal. The girl hid half of her face behind her backpack, her visible eyes sparkling at him as she half-squealed out, "That's so cool...!" The conversation ended there when the two adults herded him and Terra Rosa into some strange metal carriage. Before he knew it, the group of four were beginning their near two-hour drive to the designated camping site. While initially fascinated by the traveling machine's fast speeds and the view outside of its windows, Astral quickly found himself feeling queasy. He opted to sit back and stare at the back of his mother's seat as she conversed with Ms. Twilight, who steered the vehicle with some sort of wheel mechanism. Every so often Terra's swinging legs beside him would catch his attention and he would glance over at her. Each time he'd then see her perk up and give him a small, enthusiastic wave. After looking at his own hand and unfurling his fingers, he managed a self-conscious smile and returned the gesture. That earned him a wide grin from the girl. Soon they were driving underneath a sign and straight into a wide field of grass, dotted with benches and various other structures. It stretched out into a shimmering lake while evergreens framed its remaining sides, and the vibrant sight of nature nearly took the boy's breath away. When he had first heard the name "Camp Everfree", he had imagined something much drearier and scarier, like the Everfree Forest back in Equestria. Nothing quite as lush and colorful as this. As he exited the vehicle, Astral was almost too distracted by the tall conifers and the smell of pine to notice someone new approaching. That is until Terra hopped in place and exclaimed, "We're back, dad!" A tall man with swooping green hair and soft green eyes grinned at the group, placing his hands on his hips once he reached them. "I can see that~" The man's face brightened as Sunset walked over and greeted him with a playful fist bump, one that he returned. "Well if it isn't Sunset Shimmer herself! Welcome back to our humble abode!" He waved his thick eyebrows in a worm-like dance. "Missed me much?" Sunset snerked, playfully rolling her eyes. "Good to see you never change, Timber." When the man's attention shifted down to Astral, the boy found himself awkwardly gripping onto the straps of the "backpack" his saddlebag had transformed into. "And I'd recognize that head of hair anywhere! You probably don't remember me, but I," he jutted a thumb towards himself, winking. "Am Timber Spruce~ I have a master's degree in dad jokes and I own this camp with my older sister! She's out on holiday right now, but hey, that just means we get the camp all to ourselves! And that means-" "-no, it does NOT mean making makeshift bunk beds or eating everything in her fridge." Twilight finished, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk. Timber's shoulders slumped and he sighed dramatically. "Welp, I tried, kids..." He perked back up just as quickly. "Well, even if we can't eat everything in Gloriosa's fridge, I can happily say that lunch is almost done! And I promise it's vegetarian-" "Oh, oh!" Astral turned to see Terra heartily waving her hand in the air, standing on the tips of her toes. "Can I show Astral around 'til lunch is done?! Pretty please? I wanna show him all of my favorite spots!" Twilight chuckled. "Well, maybe after lunch, sweetie. But I'm not so sure about you two exploring the forest-" "Aw come on, Twi!" Timber Spruce sidled up next to his daughter and placed a hand on top of her head. He smirked and playfully wagged a finger at his wife. "You know Terri knows most of this place like the back of her hand! She's got her ol' dad's inner compass~ And a literal one in her backpack, if that helps." Terra giggled as Timber mussed her hair. He smiled down at her. "As long as they only visit the places I've shown Ter' and follow the forest trails, they'll be fine." "Mhm!" Terra cheerfully pumped her fists. "I got this! I promise!" While Twilight appeared hesitant, Sunset lightly elbowed her friend and smiled. "Well, I'm okay with it if Mr. Woodsman over there is. Two smart kids teaming up shouldn't be too destructive. Hopefully." A few beats more and Twilight sighed with resignation. "Okay, okay...but lunch first." Terra Rosa beamed and began to rock back and forth on her shoes. She innocently fluttered her eyelashes. "'Kay! But I guess until lunch is ready, me and Astral will have to just..." Snapping her fingers, Terra pointed at her dad with a bright grin. "Spruce up~?" Astral was at a loss as he watched the deepest pride fill Timber's expression. He too snapped his fingers and pointed back, followed by a father-daughter chorus of "EYYY!". Twilight rubbed her eyes underneath her glasses, softly whispering "oh my God". Sunset snickered, and Astral just barely caught her whispering to her friend "I see who she takes after." A lettuce and tomato sandwich later (with Terra nearly bolting out the door once he was finished, jumping from foot to foot as she waited for him outside), Astral stood from one of the benches in the cafeteria and headed towards the door. He didn't get a chance to reach it before his mother approached him. She once again leaned down to his height, smiling. "Have fun but be careful, okay? You guys can explore as much as you want as long as you come home before the sun sets." Sunset briefly looked over her shoulder at Twilight and Timber cleaning up the kitchen - the man most likely telling a cheesy joke that earned him a towel smack - before meeting Astral's matching teal eyes. "Hey, can you do me a favor honey? Just...watch out for Terra." her eyes softened. "She doesn't look it, but she has pretty bad asthma and it can make her have trouble breathing if she wears herself out. Just make sure she doesn't overdo it and run around too much, alright? I'm sure Twilight and Timber would appreciate it." Astral looked over his shoulder at the girl still waiting for him. She was grasping the straps of the backpack now on her back, nonchalantly kicking at the ground in wait. Nodding softly, he turned back to his mother and smiled confidently. "Alright. I can do that." ---- As Astral wheezed, nearly tripping as he fought to keep up with the spritely girl, he realized he, in fact, could not do that. He thought matching her brisk pace while she showed him around the campgrounds had been a challenge for legs he was still adapting to. But the moment she had finished showing him the very last inch of the area, she gave one eager "follow me!", ran off to the nearest forest trail, and then...the chase began. "H-hey, slow down!" he called out, the girl momentarily stopping to look back at him. The lower half of her face was now covered by a white face mask she originally had been wearing around her neck, decorated with a pattern of pink and blue flowers. "You're not supposed to be running so much!" The girl giggled, walking backward as Astral neared her. "Naw, it's fine! A lil bit of running is suppose' to be good for me! I just can't run A LOT-a lot. And I've got my inhaler and mask anyway, so!" She threw him a cheery thumbs-up. "It's all under control! Mom just gets all worried about, like, everything." As if Astral didn't have enough reason to doubt, he jumped as Terra ran off the dirt trail and straight into the brush. He hurriedly shifted his weight to follow her with even more concern. "Wait, why are we going off the path?!" "We're taking the scenic route!" she half-laughed out yards ahead of him. Though his legs felt sore, Astral made an effort to dodge as many trunks and bushes as he could. Up ahead, Terra paused by a boulder, placing one hand on her hip while holding the other above her forehead. She squinted and hummed loudly before merrily pointing in a direction. "Come on, this way!" She ran off just as she was within arms-reach of Astral. Huffing, he forced himself to turn and weakly continued his pursuit. "S-seriously! Can you please slow- AAH!" Astral felt his leg buckle and soon he was tumbling to the ground face first. He narrowly managed to catch himself with his arms, hissing softly as stray roots and rocks dug into his skin. His ears caught a soft gasp, and as he worked to push himself back up, there was a sound of quick footsteps running back towards him before Terra's form was leaning down and holding his arm. Looking up, her eyes were wide with worry. "Are you okay?!" "Y-yeah..." he murmured. A quick glance over his hands and thankfully, all he could see was dirt and small scratches. "I'm okay." Terra kept her hand on his arm as he stood back up. She frowned and watched him guiltily. "S-sorry...I just wanted to..." Astral noticed her trail off and glance behind her, towards the direction she had been heading. "It's...alright." Astral offered. Even if he hadn't appreciated the cat and mouse chase, he could tell the girl was at least being sincere. Unexpectedly, Terra reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it within her own. When he met her eyes she pulled down her mask and smiled kindly at him. "I'll make it up to you! Let's walk together this time!" While surprising, there was also immense gratitude as Terra trod carefully and allowed Astral to walk at his own desired pace. Unlike earlier, the girl frequently spared a glance at him, as if to make sure he was alright as she led him. Within minutes the two were stepping into a small verdant clearing amongst the trees where a small stream was cutting through. Blinking at the sunlight shining directly onto them, Astral noticed that scattered around the brilliant green grass were patches of small pink flowers. "Ta-dah! Welcome to one of my favorite spots ever!" Terra skipped ahead of him, hopping to stand right next to the flowers. She gestured wildly at them, appearing excited as she looked at him expectantly. "Guess what these are called! C'mon, you wouldn't believe it!" "I dunno...?" Astral began hesitantly, eyeing the girl in confusion. "What?" "Asters!" Astral Dusk blinked, and Terra's grin stretched from ear-to-ear. "What kinda coinkidink is that?! Aster? Astral? It's like it was meant to be!" Astral moved to stand by her, crouching down to take a good look at the flowers. With how tiny and delicate they appeared, the boy was careful as he reached out and gently touched the thin petals curiously. "What d'you think?" The question caught Astral off guard. Terra had also crouched down with her hands on her knees and she stared at him with hopeful eyes, awaiting his answer. Returning his attention to the flowers, he noted just how soft and smooth they were to the touch, and how mesmerizing their pastel coloration was beneath the sunlight. Astral felt himself smile. "They're...really pretty." Terra Rosa suddenly jumped to her feet, appearing giddy as she pumped her fists into the air and yelled, "YESS, nailed it! I knew you'd like it!" Terra bounced once and landed back into a crouching position, beaming at him. "Hey, did you know 'aster' means 'star'?! So your name probably means something like that too!" "Really...?" Astral murmured, genuinely interested in the random fact. As if encouraged by his response, Terra nodded eagerly. "Yep yep! And the cool thing about flowers is that they have all sorts of secret meanings too! And the meaning can change depending on the color!" Terra pouted to herself. "Don't know what asters mean though...but um, they're perennials so they can grow even when it's fall! And they can even be used for medicine that helps with breathing stuff, like what I have! Not that I've ever eaten one..." She paused. "...n-never thought about it, either." "Wow...that's pretty cool." Astral tilted his head. "You sure know a lot about them." Terra's eyes lit up. "Of course! I love plants!" In one quick movement, Terra removed her backpack and reached inside to pull out a green leather-bound book. She swiftly placed it on the ground and opened to a random page, revealing what Astral realized was a pressed flower. Without thinking he reached out and turned a page, which showed yet another unfamiliar pressed specimen. If he looked close enough, he could make out small notes and doodles on the opposite page of each plant, listing fun facts, blooming times, uses, and even scientific classifications. Astral stared in astonishment. 'This is...' "Oh and another cool thing!" Terra began, glancing up at the pines around them. "Trees that lose their leaves during fall are called deciduous trees, and they lose their leaves because less sun means not enough photosynthesis, which keeps them green! In other words, they end up changing colors all because the weather makes them hungry." She blankly stared off into the distance. "What a mood." Astral chuckled, nodding in agreement. The response to her humor seemed to delight her. "Sounds like it. So...is this your special talent?" Terra's confusion was apparent. "My what?" "Your talent." Astral frowned. "You know, what you're really good at, and what'll become your destined job one day?" The girl hummed thoughtfully. "Mmm, maybe! I'm good at learning a bunch of stuff, but I like learning about plants the most! Maybe I can be a scientist and do a ton of cool experiments on them one day, kinda like my mom!" That feeling of familiarity returned, and Astral nodded with intrigue. "Yeah, you'd probably be really good at it! I'm kind of the same..." He shifted and sat himself on the ground, pulling his backpack into his lap. He hesitated when he gripped the zipper. '...what if this just ends like every other time?' "Yeah?" Astral didn't expect to see the girl plop down on the ground herself, holding her ankles while leaning forward curiously. She stared back and forth between his face and the bag in his hands, anticipating his next move. It was more attention than he would have expected from her. From anyone, really. Feeling a bit of courage, the boy opened his bag and pulled out a drawstring bag. He emptied it before her and watched as her eyes blew open at the gems that tumbled out. "You like plants. And I really like gems." "These are real?!" Terra all but shouted in disbelief. She practically threw herself on her stomach, bringing her face up close to the multi-colored jewels. It was the last reaction the boy would have expected. "I...y-yes?" "Aren't these things, like, super rare?! How did you get your hands on so many?!" "Rare?" Astral laughed. "Some of them are, but I also have a bunch of common ones," he separated a few of the stones, pointing at each with his hand. "Like this chartreuse. And this diamond-" "DIAMOND?!" Terra squeaked, quickly picking up the piece of gem to inspect it. "Y-yeah!" Astral shot her a look of confusion. "Are they not common here? We have a gem cave just outside of our town full of these things." "No freaking way!" Terra stared at him in bewilderment "These things cost hundreds to thousands of dollars! And you can just go into some cave and pick one up?!" "Thousands-?!" Astral sputtered. He didn't have a clue what a dollar was, but if it was anything close to the gold bits back home, then his mind was absolutely reeling. "Either diamonds are rarer here than in Equestria, or whoever is selling them is a greedy fraud!" "Seriously?" Terra groaned, holding her head in her small hands. "Why are we like this...the diamond industry is truly a dark place..." "A-anyway!!" Astral forced, hurriedly tossing his more common gems back into his bag. He pushed a different one towards her. "Here! I think you'll like this one-" "Oh my gosh, that's so pretty!" Terra gasped, reaching out for the stone and holding it high above her. "Is this an opal?" Astral's eyes shot open. "You can tell?" "Yeah, opals have lots of pretty colors, right~? I like'im 'cause they're usually white and pink and blue and I love that color combo!" Terra turned the gem around in her hand, enraptured. "But this one looks even shinier?" "It's a crystal opal!" Astral answered instantly, maybe a bit too eagerly. But when was he ever going to find another kid who knew even a little bit about gems? "I-it has a more transparent look than normal opals. And the colors come from a reflection of scattered light from the silica spheres they're made out of. The size of the spheres affect the colors you see." "That's so cool..." Terra whispered, and for the first time in a long while, Astral felt genuine joy and excitement bubble up inside him. "I'm...I'm glad you like it." Astral nervously fiddled with the drawstring bag in his lap. He could be pushing his luck by talking more. The girl could easily interrupt him at any point, or lose interest, just like every other kid he had ever shared his interest with. Yet something pushed him. "My dad's a gem hunter and goes on trips to gather gems from all over Equestria. He brings back a gem for me every time so I can add it to my collection." Mismatched eyes sparkled at him. "That's seriously so awesome, Astral! Holy geez, you're lucky!" Astral lifted his head and felt a euphoric fluttering in his chest. "You really think so...?" Terra hummed enthusiastically. "Sure do! My dad does the same thing with flowers he randomly finds, so we can press them together! But that's almost nothing compared to these! Cause..." Terra turned to look at the journal next to her. "I just...collect a bunch of dead plants and put them in a book." There was a long pause. Astral noticed the girl's eyebrows slowly draw in. Her shoulders fell as if something was slowly sinking in. "Huh...maybe that's why people think it's boring." Terra's words struck something in Astral, and he spoke up before he even knew it. "That's not true!" Terra seemed surprised by his response, and Astral frowned as he pressed on. "I like my gems, but your flowers are just as interesting, you know?" He reached out and pulled the journal towards him, turning to the first page. There, a dried aster laid, faded but preserved with great care. "It's cool because you know so much about all of these, and you care enough to remember it all. There's a bunch of things to learn and share, just like with gems." Astral felt his own shoulders slump, gazing over at the gems just next to him. "And I guess...because gems are so common in Equestria, ponies can't see why they're so interesting to me beyond the pretty appearance. So whenever I talk about them with any of the other kids, they either get confused or they stop listening at some point." "Wait, you too?" Terra scooted forward, gazing at Astral in complete bafflement. "The kids at my school do the same thing with me! They'll think my flowers are pretty, but the moment I start sharing my awesome fun facts, it's like I can't get 'em to care enough or pay attention, y'know?" Her nose crinkled. "And then they look at me all weird the more I talk..." "Yes. I...I do." Astral's hands clenched in his lap, as phantoms of those feelings returned to him. The disappointment, the hurt. The memories of gushing and looking up, only to discover he was being ignored time and time again. Quietly he lowered his head, his voice coming out soft. "I know how that feels. It's...why I don't really have friends back home." Astral almost immediately winced as he realized he let himself get a little too emotional. Before he could say anything else, two hands abruptly grasped his cheeks, forcing him to look up. Terra's large eyes met his. "Welp, guess we're friends now!" He blinked once. Twice. "...wha?" Terra shone that toothy grin of hers at him. "I get it now! My mom and your mom made us meet because we both know how much kids suck!...just kidding! Not all kids suck...I have a few friends who don't mind when I talk about plant stuff, but even they don't completely get it all the time." She pouted. "Not even my plant-jokes, Astral! They're really missing out! But anyway, if your horse-people won't listen, then I will! We can listen to each other!" Opening and closing his mouth, Astral was at a loss for words. With little to say, the boy managed our a meager, "Okay..." There was a pause, as well as the smallest upward quirk of his lips. "...and we're ponies, by the way." Terra giggled. "Ponies, horses, Equus caballus; they're from the same tree, Astral!" A hum sounded from her mouth. "Speaking of names...now that we're friends, I need to give you a nickname!" With a cross of her arms, Terra leaned from one side to the other, shutting her eyes in concentration. "Astral Dusk...Astraaaal...Aaas- nope. Nope, can't do that one!" Astral watched silently as Terra mumbled inaudibly to herself. A second later her eyes were shooting open and a dramatic gasp escaped her. Astral barely had enough time to react before Terra threw herself at him. He yelped, having nearly fallen backward if he hadn't caught himself with his hands. "Dusky!" she declared, her arms hugging Astral's neck. "Ellie, Sunny, and now Dusky! I say it works~!" While Astral could only assume the other names belonged to other friends of hers, something warm began filling his chest at the sound of his new nickname. Somehow, even if they had just met, there was something hopeful in it. Like the start of...something. Timidly, he wrapped one of his arms around the girl's back. "...yeah. Yeah, it does." ------------------------------------- The following week passed without a hitch. After their initial exploration, the two children spent most of their time with the adults in the group, who arranged various games and activities for the five of them to enjoy together (though Terra sulked as Twilight denied her request to try out the rock-climbing wall). There were paper lantern crafts and smores around the campfire. Terra's father, Timber 'Picasso-of-noodles' Spruce, even challenged everyone to a macaroni art contest, one that his artistic mother easily bested them all at. The more fun-filled days that passed, the more Astral began to feel a little at home. On the eighth day of the trip, some grown-up time between the three parents gave both Astral and Terra Rosa free time to use as they pleased. It was Timber Spruce's idea to throw together a scavenger hunt list for the children, to help them engage in teamwork while having fun. And Astral was having fun! ...before Terra pulled a disappearing act on him in the middle of the forest. "Terra...?" he nervously called out, moving in the direction she had run off in. When he was met with no answer, Astral continued to tread slowly and carefully, looking from side to side with growing worry. The paper in his hands crumpled as he unconsciously clutched it. A rustling of leaves above met his sensitive ears, quickly followed by the sight of an up-side-down Terra with her arms dangling downward. "Boo~" Astral stumbled back and dropped his paper, too shocked to even make a sound. He took in the full picture of Terra Rosa with her legs hooked over a tree branch that she freely hung off of above him. The equestrian gawked, not that Terra noticed. She giggled. "See, I dunno why mom won't let me try rock-climbing when I'm so good at-" "H-how are you even- Terra, that's dangerous!" Astral exclaimed in alarm, eyeing her human legs disbelievingly and truly taking in how long and bizarre they were. "Huh?" Terra blinked. Astral flinched as she swung herself up and pulled her whole body back onto the branch. Leaning over its edge, she shot him a bright smile. "Not if you know what you're doing!" "Aren't you scared up there?" "No way!" Crinkling her face to imitate a serious expression, she dropped her voice as low as a seven-year-old could muster. "I ain't scared of nothin'!" The expression cracked and with a snort, she laughed. "It's just some tree climbing, silly! Haven't you ever climbed..." Terra frowned. "Oh. Right. Horse." "Pony...and only those with gravity-defying magic could do something like that..." Astral sighed and crossed his arms nervously. "Can you um...come down? Please?" "Bah okaaay..." With speed and ease Astral couldn't comprehend, the girl made her way back to the ground and hopped up next to him. Playfully pouting, she crossed her own arms to mirror his. "Gee Dusky, for a kid you sure worry a lot!" "I just...wanna be careful." Teal eyes self-consciously lowered to the forest floor. "I don't want anything bad to happen." Terra's cheeks puffed out. "But you deserve to live a little! Try something new and scary sometimes!" Terra cheerily placed her hands behind her back and leaned forward to catch Astral's eye. "You might miss out on something really good if you let fear hold you back, y'know~? My dad says that sometimes!" "Maybe..." Astral looked up into the yellow leaves of Terra's tree, its branches dotted everywhere with clumps of golden berries. "What were you doing up there anyway?" "Oh! Dad put down "Harvest Gold Crabapples" on the list! Which, by the way, you can eat and they're suuuper sour and their seeds are a little poisonous like apple seeds so you shouldn't eat those- but as I was sayin'! I was tryin' to get some fresh ones instead of the ones on the ground!" Her lips pulled down. "...but I uh...forgot...when I went to surprise you...whoops." Confusion washed over Astral's face.. "...that's all? Why didn't you just buck it?" "...buck?" "You know, tree-bucking? Like..." Astral stepped up to the tree, analyzing the thickness of its trunk. Maybe he wasn't of the Apple family, but he was an earth pony, and tree-bucking was what all earth ponies were once known for aside from their connection to nature. Surely he could accomplish something so straight-forward. While he couldn't buck exactly like a pony in his current form, the boy simply opted to pull back his shoe and give one hard kick with all of his might. Seconds later Astral was rolling on the ground, hissing loudly as he held his leg. He could barely make out Terra's fussing beside him in his haze of pain. "Astral, why would you kick a TREE?!" she yelled with pure exasperation. Her hands hovered in front of her, as if unsure of what to do. "I-I know I said to live a little, but not that much!" "W-why are your human hooves so WEAK?!" Astral shouted back, cringing and groaning at the growing pain. "...you mean feet?" "Whatever they're called!" He forced himself to sit up, grumbling incoherent things as he pulled off his shoe and rubbed the aching limb. Terra crouched down next to him and rubbed his back comfortingly. "I dunno, but they're not meant for tree-kicking!" she firmly chided. The burning in his foot seemed to transfer to his face and ears. "I didn't know..." "Well it's okay!" Terra quickly added. She shone him a comforting smile. "Thanks for trying! It's the thought that counts, right?" After a few more moments of nursing his foot, the painful throbbing had died down enough for him to stand back up. When he did, he noticed Terra giving him a thoughtful look. "Um...what is it?" "You...really are a magical pony from another world, huh?" Astral winced. "I...don't have magic like my mom or our princess," he murmured, his voice taking on a more dejected tone than he meant. "But...yeah." Terra tapped her chin. "Have you ever wondered, liiiike...why you're a pony?" The girl was met with a blank, confused stare, and she proceeded to make various hand motions for her explanation, "Okay so, after my mom told me everything she knew about your dimension, me and my dad really sat down and were thinking about it! Like, why of all animals are ponies the main inhabitants of your world? You guys are basically like us but in different horse forms - and even though you guys have a ton of mythological creatures, there are regular ponies like you living normal lives, right? So we had this theory that..." She grabbed the boy by the shoulders, a serious glint entering her wide eyes."Maybe your ancestors were a bunch of magical horse-shaped aliens from space that tried to colonize the earth back when it only had mythological creatures. And then they just established their own society! ...were we close?" Silence fell between the two kids as Astral struggled to grasp a response. "I...I know a lot of our early history has been lost to time, but I'm pretty sure we just came from the ancient alicorns and..." he trailed off, taking a moment to think. "...where did the alicorns come from?" In a Terra-like fashion, the girl threw her arms up into the air. "See?! Totally possible!" "B-but I think it's still going a bit far to call us aliens!" Astral defended, fidgeting. "We're just...ponies. That's all." "Well that's possible too!" Terra agreed, throwing her arms behind her head. "Maybe you guys just happen to be talking horses! That's cool too!" "Right..." Astral mumbled. He could feel an uneasiness settling in his stomach, one that went unnoticed by Terra.  She twirled on her foot and headed towards a small pile of forest items she had set at the base of a tree. "Anyway, let's get this scavenger hunt back on the road!" The boy nodded, remaining wordless while he moved towards the paper he had dropped earlier. As he knelt down, he just barely caught himself as his preoccupied mind nearly had him lean forward to sink his teeth into the half-crumpled sheet. Stiffly, Astral quickly moved his hand towards it. Frustration soon bubbled up in him as he had to mentally give his hand the command to open his fingers and grab it. He followed Terra, watching her trek along with her usual energy. The boy glanced down at his own legs in comparison. He found himself dragging his feet and had to consciously lift his legs more to walk properly. 'I'm so...different from her.' The dissimilarities were beginning to add up in his mind. Terra was energetic and fearless. And he...was careful. Cautious. And so abnormal that he might as well have been a talking animal - an alien - in a human body in her eyes. His understanding of the world was so different from hers. The way he functioned in her world was so different from her. With how much he struggled to keep up with her- to keep up with adapting to her world - now more than ever did he wonder if he could possibly meet her half-way. 'If we're so different...will our friendship even last...?' ------------------------------------- "Come on, Dusky! We're almost there!" "Terra..." Astral began cautiously, letting the girl pull him along as they briskly moved through the trees. It was the day before the end of their camping trip. Above, the sky was just beginning to take on shades of yellow and orange. The sun was descending and they were supposed to be heading back to camp as promised. Terra, unsurprisingly at this point, had other plans. "Can't you tell me where-" "SHH, you'll see!" she grinned back at him, swinging their hands. "In three...two...now!" At the end of her countdown, Terra led him out of the brush and into a small clearing. Astral didn't have to ask to notice the one thing that stood out. Near the other end of the clearing was a large tree, one that towered over all the others in the surrounding area. Terra ran towards it, and with a jolt, Astral followed after her. "This is a cool tree, but..." Astral huffed, stopping to stand next to Terra. The girl tilted her head back in admiration. "Shouldn't we be getting back?" Terra rubbed her hands together, excitement lighting eyes. "Only after you get the best view of the sunset in your entire life!" "Wh-" Even after all their time spent together, Astral went bug-eyed as Terra grabbed onto the lowest branch available and pulled herself up. She held out her hand to him, beaming. "The sunset from the lake is cool and all, but man do you have to see it from up above! It's one of the best things ever!" she extended her hand out further. "Think of it as one last bang before you head home!" Astral bit his lip, glancing between Terra's glimmering eyes and her outstretched hand. Even with the private one-on-one tree-climbing lessons Terra had encouraged over the past few days, apprehension took hold of him. He looked up through the leaves and the way the trunk stretched into the sky. "And you're...sure this is okay?" "Sure it is! I've done this before!" she smiled reassuringly. "And you're almost as good at climbing as me now! We've totally got this!" It would be no surprise to anyone that the idea of letting either of them climb something so tall fed his concerns. Although...there was something in his friend's impassioned eyes, and her aura of confidence, that had some semblance of courage welling up inside of him. Astral mentally prepared himself and exhaled deeply. He firmly took hold of Terra's hand. "Alright..." Terra's grin widened and she helped guide Astral's hand so he could grab onto her current branch. Once he was secure, she pulled herself up to the next. "Just follow my lead, okay? Grab on real tight and get a good grip with your feet, just like we practiced! And watch your step! Oh, and don't look down!" Astral watched Terra continue her ascent. She moved quickly and eagerly. While he took his time following after her, he couldn't help pausing every so often to just observe her worriedly as she hurried to the next branch. 'It's fine...she's done this before...she's got this.' The boy wasn't sure how much time passed before he heard Terra gasp sharply. Astral's head snapped up in alarm. "W-what?!" "We're just in time!" she exclaimed giddily, gazing off into the distance. "Behold, Dusky!" Grunting and heaving himself up one more branch, Astral followed the girl's line of sight. And there, before him, stretched a wide expanse of blue sky above a sea of trees, one that faded beautifully into shades of pastel yellow and orange in the distance. The rolling clouds scattered were a blend of purple and gold while the light of the descending sun created rings of dappled light around the tops of the fall-colored trees, giving them an ethereal glow he had never seen before. The warmth of the sun felt gentle on his face, and as a cool autumn breeze brushed through his hair, Astral realized he had been holding his breath. "This is...incredible." he whispered, clutching the branch below him. Terra sighed from her seat above him, kicking her legs a little while leaning against the tree trunk. "Yeah..." she murmured back. "Thought you'd like it..." "I do..." he agreed. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the picture painted before him. There were no words to describe the mystical feeling he was experiencing. A certain confident voice rang in his mind as he soaked in the sight and the warm rays. '"You might miss out on something really good if you let fear hold you back, y'know~?"' A tender smile stretched across Astral's face. He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "You were right...this is the best sunset I've ever seen." He laughed. "And a pony princess isn't even controlling it." Terra leaned forward on her branch to glance down at him, grinning. "Nature can be pretty magical even without actual magic, huh~?" Astral shifted, smiling gratefully up at the girl. "Yeah...it really-" CRACK Astral only had a few seconds to process the strange, crackling sounds of something tearing. His confusion gave way to a jolt of cold dread as the branch beneath him jerked. And suddenly, he was falling. For a split second, he was able to see Terra's face contort into one of sheer horror. "ASTR-!" ....... ..... .... ... Astral felt his senses returning to him. The first thing he processed was that he was lying face down on the ground, as still as a stone. There was a horrible aching all throughout his body, but his left arm had searing pain shooting through what felt like every nerve-ending. The second thing he processed was the distant sound of shouting, followed by thumping footsteps racing towards him. "Astral!" Terra Rosa threw herself on her knees beside him. As the darkness edging his vision faded, Astral realized his eyes were slowly opening. Shifting his irises, he was able to find Terra's red face bent over him. Her expression was filled with terror and panic as heavy tears relentlessly slipped down her face. "A-are you okay?!" her voice wobbled out. Reaching out towards him, Terra made an attempt to pull him up. But the action only caused pain to shoot up his left arm. He cried out, and Terra immediately drew her hands back. "My arm..." he hissed. He moved to push himself up with his opposite arm, straining the aching muscles there. However, the slightest movement brought him more shocks of pain, drawing whimpers out of him. Terra once again tried to steady him, holding him by a shoulder. "C-c'mon! We're gonna get you back, okay?!" She insisted, a tremor to her words. Pulling his decent arm around her shoulders, she attempted to help him up. But with every jolt of pain and the heaviness and soreness of his entire body, Astral found it difficult to cooperate enough to strand. "I can't..." he gasped. She knelt back down, allowing him a moment to catch his breath. Panic flooded the girl's face. "W-we have to go! It's gonna get dark soon!" "I can't." "Astral!" He gritted his teeth. "G-go without me. Get m-my mom, and I'll-" "I'M NOT LEAVING YOU HERE!" Astral turned his head to his friend, now realizing her tears were streaming down her face anew. He had expected to see her face twisted in anger, but instead, the most unbridled fear was there. It was in her red puffy eyes and the tremble of her shoulders. With heavy breaths she tightened her hold on him once more, using every ounce of her strength to heave him up. Though he let out another pained cry and tears gathered in his own eyes, he was able to stand on his two feet. "It's g-gonna-" she hiccuped, shifting one of her feet forward. "It's gonna b-be okay. I g-got y-you." The walk was slow with the way Astral dragged his feet, as though there was lead in his legs. Areas of his body stung and ached where his clothes rubbed, and it was a struggle to keep a pace that would keep his injured arm from triggering more ripples of pain. Terra had been wordless, her shuddery breaths and soft sniffling being all the noise drifting between them. The calming pastels of the sky above had given way to dark purples and reds as night slowly settled in. The remaining sun cast long, creeping shadows over the two as they followed a gravel stone path. Astral was sure he noticed Terra's breathing quicken. "Mom! Dad!" Terra cried out, desperation heavy in her voice. Astral couldn't tell if the approaching night had spurred her on, or if they were close enough to camp to gain someone's attention. Every few steps, she called out into the growing darkness. With every attempt, Astral could hear Terra choke on her own words. "MOM! DA-" "Terra?!" "Dad?! Daaad!" Terra wailed out, and in seconds, heavy footsteps rushed them. The light of a flashlight shone over them first, followed by Timber crouching in front of them frantically. "We've been looking all over for you two!" he exclaimed. It didn't take long for the man to analyze them, his expression growing serious. "What happened?" "He's hurt!" Terra fearfully yelled. "He fell from a tree!" Timber nodded, seemingly choosing to save any questions regarding the subject. "Let me tell your mothers that I found you..." The children waited as Timber whipped out his phone. After a few taps on its screen, he quietly spoke to someone on the other end. If he listened close enough, Astral could hear Twilight's voice as well as his mother's answering the man. Pocketing his phone, Terra's father proceeded to pick up and cradle the boy with as much care as possible. Despite this, Astral couldn't hold back a sharp whimper as his arm fell limply. Timber winced, murmuring a soft "hang on buddy..." before carrying him the rest of the way to camp. Almost the moment they exited the trees and light from the camp's main cabins came into view, Astral heard shouts in the distance. His mother was on him first when Timber placed him back down, just outside of the cafeteria. "Tell me where it hurts." she demanded, her face eerily serious and borderline anxious. The boy gingerly touched his left arm, and while she had only meant to inspect it, the feeling of Sunset's hand just barely holding his arm had Astral making a strangled noise. "It may be broken..." Twilight murmured nervously, joining her friend's side. Her expression grew grave. "How did this-" A shrill cry bombarded his hearing. Until then, Astral had felt like he was in a pain-induced haze. But the noise of Terra's hysterical sobbing, as well as the sight of her crouching in on herself and covering her eyes with her fists, jolted him like lightning. "I'm s-sor-" she barely choked out. Her words were cut off by her own sniveling and gasps for breath in between. "I'm s-so sor-sorry-y-" The sternness of her parents seemed to melt away, replaced by a shared concern in their exchanged glance. "Terra..." Twilight began softly, moving to kneel by her and rub her back. "Sweetie, please calm down." Terra shook her head wildly, her cries growing weaker and more muffled the more she curled into her knees. As Astral watched on helplessly, something within him painfully clenched. A realization was dawning on him; that even someone as strong and fearless as Terra Rosa could be terrified. And that...that was his fault. Astral shuffled forward. Despite hearing a quiet protest from his mother, he bit through his pain and crouched in front of his friend. "It's okay Terra..." he murmured gently to her. "It's...it's not your fault." Terra's red, tear-stained face lifted slightly to look at him. Her guilt-ridden expression only made him feel worse. "B-but..." With all eyes turned to him, Astral pressed his lips together. His resolve did not falter as he stumbled back to his feet. "We just...climbed a really tall tree. Together, to watch the sunset. And then my branch broke." He glanced down to his shoes, feeling his face burn from shame and guilt. He could already imagine his mother's disappointment and the scolding he'd most likely face. But no way was he going to let his new friend take the fall alone. Somehow, he could sense Terra's stare on his back. Twilight's sigh broke the short silence "...we can talk about this later. Right now, Astral needs medical attention." Both he and the older woman turned when Terra began to cough excessively between her sniveling. With a worried crease to his brow, Timber unzipped the backpack on his daughter's back and pulled out what Astral could assume was an inhaler. The man offered a comforting smile to the two onlookers. "Twi, you take them to the hospital." Timber's hand landed on Terra's back. "I'll stay here with 'Ter. I've got her covered." There was the slightest bit of hesitance as Twilight eyed her daughter. "...okay." Ms. Twilight stood and offered her best friend an apologetic look. With a sigh, Sunset wrapped an arm around her son. She took over as Astral's crutch as she followed the other woman to her car. ---- A number of hours had passed by the time Astral was released from the hospital, his left arm encased in a white full-arm cast and sling. Hearing the engine of the Spruce family car turn off was almost as great a relief as setting his feet back on the familiar campgrounds was. As he shut his passenger door, the boy found his eyes searching the area. He half expected to not find anything. It was far into the night, and surely Terra and her father would have gone to bed. He was proven wrong as the silhouettes of two shapes sitting together were faintly lit by the fairy lights decorating the gazebo. Both Timber Spruce and Terra had their backs facing the arriving group. When the soft shifting of grass alerted the duo of their approach, only Timber stood up to meet the three. "How'd it go?" he asked, looking between Twilight and Sunset. The latter exhaled deeply, running her fingers back through her hair. "His arm's fractured and he's pretty bruised up," Astral lifted his head, feeling his mother's hand rest on top of it. She gave him a tired, relieved look. "But as long as he rests, he'll be okay." "That's good..." Timber rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes regretfully. "I'm really sorry about this, Sunset. Terra told me the whole tree-climbing thing was her idea. She's usually pretty behaved, but I think she got the wrong idea in her head about 'trying new things'." "I should've known..." Twilight murmured solemnly, hugging her own arms. "We won't let this happen again, I promise. For Terra's sake and Astral's." "Is...she in trouble...?" Astral asked hesitantly, his shoulders tense. Sunset sighed, crossing her arms. "I'd say you both are. But we can save our discussion for when we get home tomorrow." While he ducked his head, Sunset's expression softened as she leaned down to his level "Right now, I'm just thankful to every alicorn that it was a broken arm and nothing else. Falling from a tree like that...could have ended so much worse." She cracked the smallest of smiles. "Guess you have some of your father's sturdy genes after all. Celestia knows nothing can take that gem-wall of a stallion down." Astral reflected her smile back. "How's Terra doing?" Twilight spoke up during a pause in the conversation. Timber looked over his shoulder sympathetically at the small form still sitting motionless on the other side of the gazebo. "She's pretty upset with herself. But she's calmed down, and her breathing's back to normal." Twilight seemed to relax at the news. "We talked for a while and I think she's learned her lesson. I know she still needs to be grounded, but..." "Can I talk to her?" "Ah!" Timber smiled warmly at Astral. "You know, Terra would probably appreciate that. She downright begged to stay up until you got back. Stubborn thing..." As he glimpsed at his mother for approval, Astral noticed that the way she was looking at him was oddly tender. Her head motion towards his new friend was all he needed for a go-ahead. Soon he was striding across the grass for the gazebo. He walked around the structure and towards its small stairs, where Terra sat at the top step. She was sitting with her arms wound tightly around her knees, and with her chin resting against them, she tiredly stared out at the lake in the distance. The closer he got to her, the more he could make out the tear lines on her face, and the sight had guilt rising back up within him. Taking a seat beside her, the girl noticeably tightened her posture. Dead silence. Astral waited to give her a chance to talk if she wanted to. When she didn't, he opted to start, albeit awkwardly. "It wasn't too bad. It's um, just a broken arm, and they said kids bones heal faster. So I'll be okay, okay? There's nothing to worry about." Terra softly shook her head, staring at the ground miserably. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to get you hurt. And now you're probably in trouble, too..." Astral shrugged, smiling. "I wanted to climb too, remember? And I think friends take the fall together." He cringed. "Probably not..the best way to word it, but you know what I mean." "...you still want to be friends?" "Huh?" the boy shot her a questioning look. "W-why wouldn't I?" Terra lifted her head off of her knees, her mismatched irises filled with dismay. "'Cause you were supposed to have fun here!! But now I've ruined your whole trip..." A few tears welled back up in her eyes and the girl quickly swiped them away. "I-I wouldn' blame you...if you didn't want to do anything with me anymore" "No way!" Once he had gained Terra's full attention, the boy drew in a deep breath. "This...this is the most fun I've ever had with anyone." Terra's eyes became impossibly wide. She stared at him as though he had lost a few brain cells with his fall. "But you fell from a tree!" she gestured wildly at him. "You broke your arm!" "Yeah, that sucked," he winced, more conscious of his cast. "And I'm uh, never doing something that crazy again...but the sunset and everything else before that was nice." Astral turned his body as much as he could towards Terra, giving her his brightest, sincerest smile. "There were so many fun things I got to do here, and lots that I got to learn about! Like rock-paper-scissors and writing with your hand and...climbing small trees." Terra remained silent and he paused, letting himself gather the thoughts that had been lingering in his mind for a while. He considered them for a moment, and before his friend, he allowed the weight of his thoughts to flow out freely. "I was really worried about coming here when my mom told me about the trip. I was afraid of being a human and doing human things I'd never done before." his single fist tightened in his lap, and he allowed it to excuse him from eye contact. "And I um... was afraid that we would be too different, and that talking to you would be like talking to the kids back home. But now I know that if I'd stayed scared, if I hadn't come here and if I hadn't tried talking to you about the things I liked, I wouldn't have had such a fun time or been able to do all the neat things I did! A-and I wouldn't have made a friend like you. So I'm...I'm glad I came here." "Dusky..." Astral chuckled lightly. "And now I think that maybe...having a lot of differences can be a good thing? Because that just means there's a whole slew of things we can learn from each other!" "...like with gems o-or flowers." While Astral appeared confused at first, Terra managed a laugh and wiped her eyes again. "'C-cause there's lots of different kinds, and there's always something new to share about them, right?" "Ah! Yeah!" Astral sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "But I guess...other than that, I've probably learned more from you than you have from me-" "Huh?!" Terra threw her hands flat on the wooden floor of the gazebo, just to lean in close and gawk at him incredulously. "Are you kidding me?! You taught me about princesses that control the night and day, and a pony race that shakes the fall leaves off your trees, and magical gems so powerful they can open a portal to another world!" Her brows narrowed back. "Your world sounds so cool, Astral. I was afraid you'd think this place wasn't as awesome as yours, and then you wouldn't want to come back... t-that's why I wanted you to have the best time and think this place was just as nice!" "...and that's why you wanted to show me so much." Astral murmured in conclusion. He couldn't help a short laugh. "And I was worried you thought my world was weird." "No! Never!" she asserted, giving him the most serious face she could pull. "Well if it helps...I do want to visit again. So I can learn more about this dimension, and so I can see you if that's o-" "YES, please!" Terra answered excitedly, her eyes much like the lake reflecting the stars. Astral couldn't help but grin at the sight of his friend's spirits returning. "But promise me we won't climb a giant tree again?" he joked. "Y-yeah, promise..." Terra hugged her legs close to her once more. "Dad said there's a difference between being adventurous and doing something risky. So I'll be more careful." She half-heartedly pouted. "He also said I'm not allowed to climb another tree for...'til college." "Sounds fair to me." Astral gently teased, laughing as Terra lightly jabbed at his good arm. After giving him her tightest squint, her face broke out into a grin. "Oh hey!" After some form of realization, Terra eagerly held out her left hand, curling every finger of hers except her smallest. "Why don't we promise on it! A pinkie promise!" Astral tipped his head curiously, looking down at his right hand to copy her. "'Pinkie' like...Pinkie Pie?" His stare became vacant. "...should I be worried?" "Nah silly! 'Pinkie' like your pinkie finger!" She wiggled the digit. "They always make pinkie promises all dramatic on TV, and I dunno why it's even a thing, but hey! It's a new human thing you can try!" Terra reached out with her free hand to hold up Astral's before linking their pinkies together. "So if I promise to be more careful, you gotta promise me you'll come back for sure!" Smiling, Astral squeezed her pinkie back with his. "Okay. I promise." "Good! You better!" Terra beamed and pulled away to lean back on her hands, happily kicking out her legs over the stair steps. "Hope you're ready Dusky, 'cause once someone's my friend, you can bet I'm their friend no matter what! Even if we're standing in two different dimensions we're friends! Got it~?" 'No matter what...' Astral let those words sink deep into him, unsure just how obvious his newfound elation was. He joined his friend in looking out into the starry sky, stretched out as far as the eye could see. Smiling more to himself than anything, his soft murmur joined the calming atmosphere around them. "Yeah...I'd like that."
___________________________________________________
And from then on, Terra and Astral found a lifelong friend in one another (more to be seen of that in an upcoming art dump!)
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Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Pairing: Flaco Hernández / F!Reader Summary: You’ve always taken care of whatever jobs Flaco has for you. Maybe he should return the favor? Length: 3,972 words Warnings: (18+) Sexual Content Other Locations: AO3
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What kind of twisted mind did you have to think this was even remotely a good idea?
Your long-coat was lined with dense fur, but it did little to nothing to keep warmth in your bones as you pressed on through the blizzard. Whether by pure memory or dumb luck, your horse seemed to recall the familiar path through the snowy wilds that lead up to the frozen lake. Snow clung to your eyelashes in thick clumps and frozen, effectively prevented you from seeing more than a foot or two in front of your horse’s head. You could only pray that the blizzard had deterred the wolves from leaving the safety of their dens, because there was no way in hell you’d be able to get a proper shot on any of them with how violently your body shook with chill.
As the pair of you quickly ode through the small creek, you winced and again asked yourself why on earth you made the journey out here?
Maybe it was because you liked money, or killing, or both. Maybe it was because of the warmth that tingled your fingertips every time you returned to the small cabin in the middle of nowhere with a smoking gun and a few more numbers on your body count. Maybe it was that grin you got every time those gloved hands hands you a fat stack of cash for each job you completed without fail.
Or maybe, it was purely Flaco Hernández.
Yes, you were deep in cahoots with the infamously wanted outlaw and gunslinger. You’d met him by accident one evening, coincidentally also during a blizzard. You’d effectively gotten completely lost on your way to meet a man by the name of Hamish Sinclair and found yourself up to your knees in snow. You’d almost cried aloud when you stumbled upon the little cabin nestled in the trees by the frozen lake, quickly rushing over and settling your mount in a makeshift stall next to the building before pushing inside. Whether it was a good or rather horrible twist of fate that you had found yourself face to face with the barrel of a gun that day, you still couldn’t say. Though, in a way, the outlaw had saved your life. He’d sent you right back out into the blizzard after deciding you were much too small and pathetic to pose a threat, offering a small reward and the name of one of his enemies who was camping nearby in exchange for a night’s rest in the warm shelter of his little home.
Only an idiota would have turned him down.
But that wasn’t the only way Flaco had saved your life.
It was purely dumb curiosity that brought you back the second and third time, wondering what had brought the rough-edged man up to such a remote location. A man of his caliber certainly wasn’t about to willingly turn over his life story to some stranger who’d stumbled into his hideout. So it started out with jobs. Each trip you made up the mountain was a new job opportunity and a chance to learn a fraction more about the gunslinger. At first, it really was just bits and pieces of information you had to piece together, but the longer you lingered around his ankles like a lost puppy, the longer his stories grew. He even allowed you to stay and warm up in his cabin now when he had initially shoved you back out into the cold after handing over your payment and little bit of trivia from his life. His stories sent you to distant places you’d only heard about, making your head swim with images of horses thundering through deserts and skies filled with gun smoke.
You’ll never forget the first real story you got out of the outlaw. A tale of forbidden love and stolen horses that brought a gleam to his eye and a deep laugh in his chest. You had been curled up on the floor close to the fire he’d kindled to life after you’d returned from a job with blood spattering your face and clothes. Knees were pressed up to your chest and an awestruck look rested on your face as you listened intently to him spin his story, much like a child would. Never again would you see a gleam in his eyes like that until you found a cigarette card bearing his resemblance at the end of your pack of smokes.
Holding it up for a moment, you lifted the cigarette from your lips, bringing the card closer to your face until your brows lifted in surprise. Darting your gaze between the man cleaning his gun at the table and the shockingly handsome young man in the artwork you wondered if the image was anything similar to what the outlaw had been like in his younger days.
“Whatchu got there, retaco?”
Slowly handing over the card, eyes still glued to the image, the dark-haired outlaw placed aside his gun before plucking it from your grasp. Sniffing a bit, the card was turned a few time between his finger before that wonderful gleam you’d caught before returned.
“Voy a ser condenado, I can’t believe those fools are still making these things. Ay, I had the looks back in the day but they should update it with mis miradas madura, eh chica?”
The smirk and wink he offered brought a warm flush to your face, unable to form a response or even so much as nod before he threw his head back and laughed. He leaned forward a bit and tossed the card back to you, making you fumble to catch it as he spoke with a chuckle.
“Loosen up there, chica. I’m only having a little fun with you.”
You were certain that he was, but that didn’t stop you from pulling the card out of your coat pocket once you mounted your horse again and began to leave, filthy and sinful images running through your head that made you shiver and quickly shove the card out of sight once more.
In truth, you hadn’t a clue when you began to find the outlaw so attractive. Was it when he handed over enough cash to pay for that new thoroughbred you had wanted after a simple mission to intercept a supply wagon? Or maybe it was when he muttered that single ‘thank you’ when he’d caught you leaving two fresh elk carcasses outside his cabin? Whenever it was you’d decided upon the wanted man’s attractiveness, you would never admit your desire for him loud, especially after that night in your tent when you were left with just your sensitive nerves and wandering thoughts.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you found yourself leaning forward quite a bit in the saddle, meaning you were on the telltale slop leading up to Cairn Lake. Your frozen fingers gripped the reins as tight as you could and you nudged your horse on a bit faster, wanting to reach to potential fire as quickly as possible. Even through the horrendous blizzard, you could faintly see a fire flickering through the small window of the cabin as you reached the top of the slope. Trotting over the ice sheet, you more fell out your saddle then slid off, leading your horse over and tying him in the little makeshift stall. Unfortunately, you were too frozen to even think about spreading some hay for the beast right then, so you shoved your hands under the armpits of your coat and waded through the knee deep snow to the door.
You opened and closed the door as quickly as you could, not wanting to risk an angry Flaco berating you for letting the snow and cold in, but you were quite surprised with what you did receive from him.
“Ay, look what the cat dragged in! Quickly, sit. I had a feeling you would show up.”
Flaco Hernández expecting you to come? And preparing for it?
Turning from the door, you were met with the familiar sight of the outlaw in his favored chair, carving away at a piece of wood while the fire roared warmly. There was a new sight by the fire, though, which was a large pile of rather warm looking furs. As was that… coffee? Certainly you were dreaming. This couldn’t be the outlaw you’d spent the last year and a half doing dirty work for.
“Well? Going to warm up or do I have to toss you back into the snow?”
You shook your head quickly, teeth chattering as you made your place by his feet at the fire, taking up an armful of furs and wrapping them snugly around yourself. Flaco gave what seemed to be a content grunt and returned to his carving, the cabin going silent for a few moments aside from the fire and the wind howling outside. Eventually, he broke the silence again with the thunk of his knife as he drove it into the wooden table. Carving in one hand, he reached through the number of bourbon bottles strewn about and retrieved a shining coffee cup, reaching it out for you to take with numb fingers.
“Get some of that in you before your bones freeze, eh? And get that coat off, let it dry and you stay under those pelts. Can’t have my pequeña asesina up and dying on me over a blizzard.”
The way he chuckled as he spoke sent a different kind of chill down your spine, but you listened to his orders. Dropping the furs for a moment, you placed aside your hat that had somehow managed to stay on through the blizzard before beginning to unbutton your coat, only now realizing why the cold had you succumbing so easily. With an embarrassed flush rising to the bridge of your nose, you made sure to look away from the older man as you slid off your coat and tossed it aside, revealing the silk and lace top you wore that exposed nearly everything.
“Well, now. What’s this, chica? A gift for me?”
You couldn’t tell if the man was poking fun at you or not with the way he leaned forward in his chair and gave a sultry grin. You had an excuse for the top, though your lips seemed to be frozen shut at the moment, leaving you unable to explain your infiltration job and how you had been required to dress like a lady for the evening. That last thing on your mind when you left was changing out of the top, all you had thought about that evening after several disgustingly rich pigs had groped and attempted to flirt with you was Flaco. You’d daydreamed of how he’d swoop in and scare away those swine with a curl of his lip and a snarl before leading you off somewhere more private.
Now the daydream made you feel utterly ridiculous, not only for forgetting to change your top, but for even imagining that the gunslinger would protect you like that.
A cup of coffee was finally in your grasp and the furs were around your body once more, sincerely hoping the warmth that you felt flood your face wasn’t too visible as the outlaw continued to stare you down with that damn smirk. You dared not look at him more than a glimpse from your side-eye, wondering if he was thinking as hard as he appeared to be. Had your silence thrown him off guard? Or was he thinking up a job to send you out on for intruding on his home in the middle of a blizzard? You got your answer as he finally leaned back in his chair and spoke again.
“I know you came for work, and I just so happen to have a very special job that only you can help me with.”
You perked up at the offer of helping him out, having grown so accustomed to working for him that you found great pleasure in killing in his name. The furs slid from your shoulders a bit, and you slightly lowered the mug you held, giving him an attentive look that made him grin and chuckle once more.
“Someone is eager, eh? I like that. Now, come here, I don’t bite.”
Come closer? You’d never been closer to Flaco than the distance between the fire and his feet so you couldn’t help it when you moved rather sluggishly. Was he about to attack you? Had he finally decided no one who knew so much about him and his life could live? Nonetheless, you stood, allowing the furs to fall from your body and taking a half step towards where he sat like a king in his throne. He smirked at you, leaning back a little more and allowing his legs to spread a bit. You knew better than to take it as an invitation, but the sight and indecent thoughts that flooded your head still made you swallow thickly.
“Closer.”
Another half step.
“Almost there.”
Finally, a full step, and you were positioned between his boots, looking down at him as his eyes gave you a once-over.
“Good, good. Sit on my lap, won’t you?”
You blinked in surprise, almost choking on how thick the air had grown in the cabin, and your expression made the man smile and reach out to place a firm hand on your hip.
“I’m not going to hurt you. You still need warming, I can help.”
Oh god, oh god, oh lord. This had to be a dream. No way was this real. You were dreaming this, dreaming of the Flaco Hernández holding your hips and pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. You were imagining that seductive glint in his eyes and the way he licked his lower lip as your hands pressed to the firmness of his chest that rested beneath his thick fur coat. You wished it was a dream, yet there was no dreaming up how slowly the gunslinger removed his gloves. There was no imagining how those murderous hands reached up and stroked the side of your face and cupped your cheek like you were the most valuable thing in the world. You could never picture the beautifully dreamy look on the man’s grizzled features as his thumb brushed over your lips.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he spoke, he hand that still rested on your hip gripping a bit tighter and almost rocking you into his lap.
“You think I don’t notice how you look at me, chica? How often you come running up here to see if I have work for you? I may be old, but I have seen desire before, and you have got it bad.”
The second pull was harder, managing to make you gasp this time as you felt the line of his shaft through his trousers.
“You run off so quickly, killing whoever I ask, whenever I ask, and rush back with that smile on your face and your gun still smoking. You like taking care of old Hernández, eh?”
You didn’t dare speak, not wanting to risk shattering this too-good-to-be-true moment and simply nodded, savoring in the warmth of his chuckle as he brought his lips close to your ear.
“Well, perhaps it’s my turn to take care of you, princesa.”
The moan that escaped your lips was one of pure surprise and excitement, your hands withdrawing slightly from his chest as his hands moved to work open your pants. He clearly knew what he was doing, drawing soft gasps and whines from you as his fingers teasingly stroked you through the denim of your pants and his hot breath lapped at the sensitive spot right behind your earlobe. Unable to stop yourself, you found yourself seeking out more friction and reaching one of your own hands between your legs in an attempt to press Flaco’s fingers harder into the seam of your pants. Unfortunately, that action stopped him entirely, and he hummed bemusedly as his larger, calloused hand wrapped around your own.
“Ah, ah. None of that. Let me work my skills and you enjoy the ride.”
Whining indignantly, you allowed the outlaw to place your hand back upon his chest and resume his ministrations. His lips moved down your neck as he teased you, the scrape of his facial hair on your frost chilled skin combined with his touch drawing pleads for more from your lips. It seemed he wouldn’t be listening to your demands anytime soon, so to sate yourself at least a little, you worked his fur coat open and found the broad expanse of his chest hidden beneath a faded green shirt with just a peek of dense hair emerging from the open collar. Your wandering hands explored as much as you could reach, feeling his barreled chest through the thin fabric, allowing your fingers to slip underneath and find a rather lovely happy trail and more scars than you could count on both hands. It seemed the gunslinger was enjoying your curious touches, though, as he offered a pleased growl against your skin.
“Such a curious little thing, prying into my life now exploring my person as you please. It’s only fair that I explore you in return.”
Oh, you enjoyed the sound of that.
Every nerve in your body was alight with anticipation and you found yourself holding your breath as Flaco’s hand finally found the inside of your pants and your awaiting cunt. As those magical fingers slowly dragged back and forth across your lips the breath you had been holding was released in the form of a shaky moan, your hands bracing you on the man’s chest and preventing you from collapsing into him entirely. His mouth was off your neck now, leaning back to watch his handiwork and admire the delicious expressions you gave. Your eyes were blissfully shut as you rocked your hips into his rhythmic movement, slowly looking down at him and feeling your heart jump at how he licked his lips again. Oh, how you desperately wanted to kiss him, not just to wipe that grin off his face but to finally know if he tasted like the whiskey he drank or not. Before you could voice or act upon that desire, however, a large finger was slipped inside you that made you cry out the man’s name.
His digits were much larger than your own and easily felt a dozen times better. He only had one inside you and was simply working it in and out, yet you were already putty in his hands. Every nerve in your body was on fire, sweat had begun to form on your brow now and the blizzard you’d trudged through to get here was far from your mind. All of your senses had been enveloped by the infamous criminal, and it seemed he’d become quite taken with you as well.
“Your thighs are shaking so much, hermosa. How long have you been wanting this? How many nights have you cried my name into the dark?”
Words were failing you at the moment, leaving you unable to do more than keen loudly in response to his questions. The truth was too long and too many. You’d wanted the man shortly after having his gun in your face for the first time, and now, with his fingers working wonders on you, you were no longer ashamed to admit that fact to yourself.
When a second finger joined the first inside you, your arms gave out, leaving you clutching at Flaco’s back from under his coat and resting your head on his broad shoulder. He found great pride in having you moan and beg for him so close to his ear, and that grin he wore only broadened when the rough pad of his thumb found your clit and you had to bury your face into his coat to muffle a scream. He was good and he knew it. Too good, in fact. The combination of his thumb on your clit and his fingers curling inside you left your entire body trembling and the knot in your gut winding tighter and tighter. No longer could you moan, only gasp and keen as you grew ever closer to the precipice of pleasure.
Until suddenly he stopped moving.
Your eyes shot open, leaning back to give him an indignant look only to be met with a serious glare that had you practically melting. The hand holding your hip lifted to your chin, holding in firm between his fingers as he brought your face so close to his you felt his hat being pushed back and your noses brushed together.
“Who do you belong to? Who is the only man who makes you feel this good? Tell me, chica, and I will let you cum.”
Swallowing the excess saliva that had formed in your mouth, you finally spoke.
“You...”
“Qué?”
“You do.”
“I don’t think I quite heard you, little one. If you are too shy to answer then I suppose I can’t finish the job.”
Gripping the front of his shirt, you felt his fingers curl inside of you slightly and that was enough to get you to shout the answer he was looking for.
“You! I belong to you! Every bit of my body, every drop of my blood belongs to Flaco Hernández! You’re the only one I want!”
His hold on your chin tightened as he pulled you in to meet his lips, his fingers finally getting you back to work and bringing that wave of bliss rushing closer. His mouth easily overtook yours, tongue claiming dominance you didn’t bother fighting for. He tasted like spices, cigar smoke, and his signature bourbon. He could tell how close you were, and when you both were out of breath and your climax was near, he pulled back just enough to growl against your mouth.
“Cum, mi princesa. Cum for Flaco.”
And so you did.
His name falling from your lips and your entire body tensing as lava flowing through your veins and fireworks burst behind your eyelids, you let yourself fall apart in the hands of one of the most wanted outlaws in the country. He urged you through your orgasm with gentle praises and soft caresses along your pussy, making your body twitch with aftershocks and causing you to moan softly. Finally, once the waves of pleasure had subsided, you collapsed fully against the man’s chest, your arms loosely wrapped around him and your face pressed against his neck. Watching as Flaco took the time to lick his fingers clean, a soft tremble of want wracked your body again, one that he felt and couldn’t help but chuckle at.
“Are you satisfied, little one?”
You nodded silently, fighting to keep your eyes open now. The powerful orgasm had taken what little energy hadn’t been sapped away by the blizzard, and the warmth that crept through your limbs made it incredibly difficult not to fall asleep then and there.
The gunslinger took notice of this and adjusted your position in his lap so he could take you in a bridal hold, standing with a soft grunt before he crossed the cabin and laid you upon the soft pelts and blankets that lined his bed. His ungloved hand found your face again, caressing your cheek with the tenderness of a newlywed husband and allowing a smirk to cross his face.
“Rest. I’ve got another job for you when you wake.”
Through your lidded eyes, just before they embraced sleep, you caught sight of him palming a rather noticeable bulge in his trousers, and you decided it definitely wasn’t a mistake to make the trip up in the middle of a blizzard.
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disappearinginq · 5 years
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OG Excerpt of Randomness - because really, do I do any other kind?
“What?” I protested angrily. “What do you mean, I don’t get to go with you this summer?”
Dad kept his eyes on the road, refusing to even look at me. “Did I stutter?” he asked. “I meant exactly what I said. You’re not coming on the road with me this season, end of story.”
“Not that I have anything against Casey and her family, but come on! I haven’t seen you for more than like a week all semester!”
For every summer, as long as I can remember, Dad and I have spent it on the road together. It’s nothing fancy – Dad is a long haul truck driver. Together we’ve crisscrossed the continental United States more than a dozen times every summer. I’ve even been to Canada a few times, depending on who he’s working for. But during the school year, I stay with Casey and her folks because there’s no time even for homeschooling on the road.
I don’t remember the last time I spent a summer in one place.
“Look, dad, I’m sorry about the fight!” I said, trying to apologize for what felt like the millionth time. “But Nate –”
“I don’t care what Nate said, or what his friend said, or what anyone said, Erin!” Dad cut me off. “You threw the first punch over words. People will always say bad things, things that aren’t true, or things that will make you angry. But they’re just words, and you don’t seem to understand that. I told you last year, no more fighting or you weren’t coming with me. Did you think I was bluffing?”
“Well, no…” I said, feeling my face flush pink.
“Did you think I was going to make an exception if the fight was about defending me against a couple of kids I don’t even know the last names of?” he continued.
“No…” I muttered.
“You have got to learn to control your temper, young lady,” Dad said. “And clearly, being on the road with a bunch of truckers with the social graces of drunk sailors is not hacking it.”
“It’s not like Casey’s family is any better!” I protested. “I mean, sometimes I wonder whether or not she was actually raised by wolves.”
Dad shook his head as we pulled to the intersection just before Casey’s house. “I’m not rewarding you by leaving you all summer with your best friend who clearly has no better influence on you.”
Instead of turning right towards Casey’s, we turned left towards the highway.
“Uh, what? Dad, you missed the turn – it’s that way,” I said, gesturing out the window towards the familiar dirt road.
“No, I didn’t,” Dad said. “What did I just tell you?”
“That I wasn’t being rewarded by spending the summer with my friend?” I echoed hesitantly. “But…you also said I wasn’t coming on the road with you. Last I checked, those were the only two options.”
A sudden weight formed in my stomach.
“You’re taking me to the children’s home?” I protested.
Dad actually looked at me for that little outburst, the look on his face clearly stating he thought I was being an idiot. But seriously, that was the only other thing I could think of. Mom was gone, we didn’t have any contact with her family, and Casey’s mom and dad had been my adopted relatives since I was old enough to crawl. If I wasn’t going to Casey’s, and I wasn’t going with him, I had only but so many places to go that didn’t involve him leaving me on the side of the road with a backpack and a ‘fare thee well’.
“What?” he said. “No. I’m not taking you to an orphanage. Jesus, kid. I may not be happy with you, but you’ve done worse things in your life and I haven’t once thought to leave you. You’re going to stay with family.”
I scrunched my face up, trying out that thought. “Family,” I echoed. It sounded strange even to me, without the context of it being either my dad or Casey. “Hold up, I thought you were like an orphan or something?” A terrible thought occurred to me. “You’re going to leave me in the cemetery all summer?”
I got that same incredulous look, like my dad was wondering where he went wrong with me, and if I was even his.
“You’ve heard me talk about my brother,” he said flatly.
“Uncle George? Um, yeah, but nothing close to what I would call affectionate,” I said. Actually, most of the words used to describe him were words I couldn’t repeat in polite society. Or in the presence of an adult if I wanted to avoid being grounded for a month.  
“Yeah, well, he agreed to take you on for the summer,” dad explained, eyes back on the road and away from me.
“You’re sending me to live with strangers?” I said. “How is that any different than leaving me at the orphanage? A less stringent return policy? Buy back options? At least I could have a moderate say in who adopted me instead of just getting dumped with some guy I barely know.”
“Oh, well, when you put it like that, I can totally see your point,” Dad said sarcastically. “Let me just hang a u-ey and we’ll put this whole thing behind us.”
I crossed my arms across my chest, slouching into the seat. “Sarcasm. That’s helpful.”
“Just because your uncle and I may not be on the best of terms, doesn’t mean we can’t help one another out. He offered to take you in for the summer because he has the room, and he feels bad that you haven’t gotten to know one another. Or that you and your cousins haven’t met since you were babies.”
“I have cousins?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, Erin, you have cousins, and you’ve met before. Don’t pretend like you don’t know them.”
I tried to recall anything resembling cousins in my memory and drew a complete blank. “You wanna give me some context?”
“The family reunion in Tennessee when you were like three,” Dad explained.
“So thirteen years ago? Gee, wonder why I don’t remember that.”
“It was at that big lake,” Dad continued. “Remember? They had a big boat, and we went out fishing almost every morning on it?”
Okay, that actually sounded a little familiar. Not that I remembered cousins being there, but I do remember being up at the crack of dawn with my dad and a fishing rod on a bright teal lake on a boat I know we couldn’t ever afford.
“Vaguely,” I admitted. “But if we were on such good terms then, what happened? How come I don’t have anything more recent? Like – a Christmas card or something?”
My dad shrugged, his answer for when he didn’t want to get into details with me. “Well, right after that, your mom was gone, and I didn’t talk to them for a while, and your uncle took it kind of personal, I think.”
I suppose that makes sense. I don’t really have any clear memories of my mother, and dad doesn’t talk about her. We don’t even have pictures.
“How many cousins do I have?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested. You know, just in case he thought I’d forgiven him.
“George has two daughters. Melissa and Miranda. I think one is your age, and the other one is probably about…thirteen?” Dad said, eyes back on the road. I glanced at the signs. We were headed north. “They’re into horses too. You might actually like one another by the end of the summer.”
“Sounds promising,” I grumbled. In my experience, people my own age and I didn’t go together very well. Also, to be fair, I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with people my own age. I spent most of my time with Casey, who was an only child of two older parents, or with Dad and a bunch of guys and women closer to his age than mine.
“Maybe if you didn’t have the social graces of a honey badger, I’d have higher hopes of you getting along sooner than that, but face it, honey. You and people just aren’t a good match. Hopefully, some of their manners rub off on you and you can finally make it through a school year without winding up in detention, failing classes or getting into fights.”
“That’s some pretty lofty goals there, Pops,” I said.
“I’ll be happy with one out of three. I won’t even pick which one, just to make it sporting.”
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rtirman-blog · 7 years
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31   The Summer’s End - Back to                    Notre Dame
The rest of that summer, Sally and I were together whenever I was not at the pool.  It was not as though we couldn’t live without one another, and I can’t speak for her, but we liked being together.  My time to return to school was quickly approaching, and I didn’t want this to be viewed as a “summer romance.”   I did not relish the thought of leaving her, but I also knew my education was important.  So I never gave serious thought to doing anything else but returning to South Bend.
 One of the things Sally shared with me that summer was her religious affiliation.  She was Jewish.  Not only that, she was the first Jewish girl in Nassau County to celebrate her bat mitzvah, which, in Judaism marks an age of maturity when a child becomes more responsible and accountable for her own actions.  Actually, I think she was the first girl to do that in the whole State of New York.  In my mind, her religious history bonded us. I did share with her everything I knew about my family.  We were perfect for each other.
 The day I left to go back to school was harder to go through than a funeral of a loved one…even though I had yet to really lose a loved one.  When I was eight years old, Mom, my grandmother died after years of battling breast cancer. The only part of her death, I can recall, was her funeral.  The funeral parlor was on the north side of Church Avenue close to Rogers Avenue.  I remember very little.  Mom was in the coffin, and people walked over to her, looked at her, and sometimes bowed their heads in prayer.  Uncle Wally came over to me, and asked me to come with him to see mom. When we got to the coffin, I looked at mom. I didn’t know what else to do. Wally then told me he would give me a dollar if I would give mom a kiss. At that age, I was an indiscriminant sellout- I gave mom a kiss.  In truth, I probably would have done that without being offered a reward.
 My reaction to Mom’s death, and funeral, was probably forged by my age and by my history with Mom.  At age eight, I did not really understand how Mom’s death impacted others- Pop, Daddy, Mother, Wally and Bobby, Al and Mickey, et al.  I doubt I gave any of that a thought.  My history with Mom wasn’t strong.  I knew she was my grandmother, but I cannot remember doing anything with her.  Sadly, all I can remember was her in a wheelchair at Wally and Harriet’s apartment on Montague St., in Brooklyn.  So when she died, I did not cry; nor did I have any special feeling.
It’s somewhat weird to me, but even when Granny died, I was void of feeling.  I’ve mentioned Granny, Mother’s mother, several times.  She was closer to the storybook grandma than Mom. But when granny died, I was an adult, and I hadn’t seen her for a pretty long while; long enough to have healed over missing her.  Her funeral services were conducted in a small church in Rhinebeck, on the Hudson River, about 100 miles north of New York City.  I get closer to Granny almost every time I look at my arthritic hands.   I can make them look exactly like her crippled hands.  Then lots of memories of her come to mind.  I can’t do that with mom
So the day I left to go back to school was pretty sad. Mother and Joe (her husband) sat up front. Sally and I were in the back seat. Knowing I was to leave her was worse than anything I could imagine. It would have been easier to die holding one another, than to have to leave her.  But there we were, on the platform, hugging good bye.  I thought I was going to bawl, but I didn’t. I know I had tears in my eyes. Sally did, too.  Our romance was not over.  Now, it was a long distance relationship- she had a boyfriend at Notre Dame, and I had a girl back home.
 After getting settled on the train, I walked to the club car to have a soda and relax. I guess my sadness could be seen by others because a woman walked over and sat down next to me. She helped me talk through all that was going on, and she was tuned in to my history, my education, and my goals. She asked me my name, and then she told me hers.  All this time, I had been talking with Ella Fitzgerald.  Although her singing was more up Mickey’s alley, I sure knew she was a jazz phenomenon.  I was also able to tell her that I saw her name the past week on the marquee at the Fox Theater, in Brooklyn.  I’d like to tell you when Sally and I picked “our song”, that we picked an Ella Fitzgerald piece.  However, we chose Sarah Vaughn singing “Love me or leave Me”.   I did not share that with Ms. Fitzgerald.
 When I got off the train in Plymouth, Indiana, it was different for me. There was no one there to greet me. I was on my own.  If I wanted, I still had my job at Saint Joseph Hospital. Tony Ciambelli and I met at our three room suite, which was the entire second floor of our house on Woodward Avenue near Angela Blvd. That is about one mile directly west of the Notre Dame Campus. On most days, I walked to school.  If I wanted to take a bus, I had to take a bus downtown, where I transferred on to the Notre Dame bus.  Taking the bus would take almost as much time as walking.
 The house we lived in was owned by the Komp family.  We treated it as if it was our own home.  Even though we could go to the refrigerator on our own, both Tony and I would only go there if we had bought something that needed to be kept cool. But it was a very welcoming gesture. We both felt at home. So much so, we joined in family game night each week, usually Thursday. We played card and board games with Mr. and Mrs. Komp and their grown children.
 My Fall semester courses were vertebrate embryology and lab, German 1, Logic, General Physics and lab, and Sociology.  I made it through the semester, but passed embryo and sociology by the skin of my teeth. But, more importantly, I was progressing.  Even so, being a pre-med student was not so great. I simply chalked that up to my natural dislike for school work- the price I had to pay to be a doctor.  
 By mid-October, I was pretty much down, and going through the motions.  I can’t figure out how my mother and I arranged for her to call me on a Sunday, but we did arrange it, and she did call.  We talked about my depressed mood, and how much I missed Sally. Mother said, “Hold on, I have a surprise for you.”  The next voice was Sally’s.  Mother drove to Levittown, got Sally, then drove home.  That call gave me the lift I needed to keep on going.  Mother loved it all because she did something tremendous to cheer me up.  Also gratifying for her, she got to spend the day with Sally.  I would have liked that, as well.  We wrote to one another frequently, but, at that moment, talking to her was love’s dream.
 Shortly after that, Tony invited me to his home in Ferndale, Michigan, a suburb just north of Detroit. When I told my mother about the Detroit visit, she got very excited. Her cousins, the Atkinson’s, lived there.  She was sure any of her cousins, aunts, and uncles would come to see me.  I may have already told you, my mother was born on Parry Sound in the Georgian Bay of Lake Huron, or at least, she was a Canadian.  Many of her relatives lived in Park Hill, a small town further south, a few hours drive from Detroit.  That may not seem like a big deal to many people in today’s world. But then, at least in my family, aunts, uncles, and cousins were extremely close.  My cousins were almost like brothers and sisters to me.  So when we got to De-troy-it, as Mother would say, I went and visited the Atkinsons.  There were close to forty people there to say hello to Anna’s son, Richie. (my mother’s name was Anna).  That said something about Mother no one ever talked about with me.  She was loved by just about every Canadian to whom she was related.  But for a few, almost all of them lived in Canada, and made the drive to say hello to me.
 The fall semester began in September and ended the last week of January.  So over the Christmas holidays, students had finals to think about. So, like many other kids, I brought home the books I needed to review for the finals.  There was nothing eventful that semester, except for my all-nighter to study for a Sociology test. I was certain I would fail the course. I ended up with a solid D+.  Today, with all my education, I’d be as happy with that grade as I was then.  Going home for Christmas and being with Sally had completely absorbed my mind.  It was going to be the best Christmas ever.
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elendpendragon-blog · 7 years
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Elendenal sat down with a creak of plate, moving his right hand - unadorned in plate, to enable his intended task - to take the pen from its place inside the holder, looking down to the parchment spread before him.  A moment’s consideration and he set the pen to paper, writing his thoughts upon its surface.
Zephyr 25, 1300 AE
I find myself at something of a crossroads, writing these thoughts upon paper as a means to draw the feelings associated to them from me, and perhaps establish a record to be used in future.  Let me state for the record herein, that I am a man conflicted.  These past weeks have seen extraordinary developments in my life, but so too have they seen me face challenges I did not - perhaps naively - expect to have to confront again.  There are barriers in my path, now, that must be removed with utmost delicacy: lest the effort to do so shatter the very thing I wish to reach beyond their obstacle.
I have been made Field Marshal of the Coalition, if that is what it can be called, at Lake Doric.  This is not how I intended to spend my time at this Camp, but neither can I write here in honesty that it is a turn of events I am going to strive to oppose.  My arrival in Lake Doric was less a conscious decision and more a matter of providence: a path that was laid for me by Balthazar, I suspect, through my mortal associates.  If not for that night in the Rurikton Cafe, I never would be here.
None of this would have happened, had I not met Margrave Elysian, my now-dear friend and brother in cause, upon that  auspicious evening.
It is ironic, I believe the term is, that I am impeded in my task to rid the enemies of mankind from Lake Doric by the very people that convinced me to give my aid here.  Lady Aubrey Valente knows not how much she changed my life, with that simple suggestion of hers.  Luxelen, my friend - or so I hope - stands as the largest impediment in my attempts to bring an end to the carnage and suffering in Lake Doric.  I have attempted to reason with her, and shown her respect and courtesy in the act, and at best she has responded with cool disdain.
I am told by Alissa Lepre, the newest member of the Scions of the Six, that it is Luxelen’s way of adapting - that she will ‘come around’ eventually.  While I am not opposed to her having the time she needs, it makes me worry for the people of Lake Doric.  While the one that should be an ardent ally dithers, they die by the dozens, and more refugees are created every day.  It is not that I do not understand her recalcitrance, it is simply that I do not believe that this is the place for it.  I will never understand her mind, I fear, for we are naturally opposed creatures, her and I.
The Refuge Defense Force will be recalled, according to Alissa, and that is for the better.  Luxelen does not understand the fundamental necessitation of war: she is too passionate, too focused on what she sees - whether correct or incorrect - as an enemy to understand when she does not know something, or when her views are damaging, if not outright destructive.  A rogue element in a battlefield, be it a single person or a full unit, pose a danger to their parent force and allies even greater than an enemy.  A single misstep in the grand strategy, a single unforeseen disobedience, and the entire army risks shattering.  It is one thing for your enemy to surprise you, it is far more catastrophic to be sabotaged from within - especially when that sabotage is entirely unintended.
If the R.F.D take to the field without being part of the chain of command, they will kill a great many people, and I fear many of them will be due to nothing more than idealistic ignorance.  War is not like the stories, it is not a tale where a valorous few can make the difference in spite of everything else.  It is methodical, it is alive, it is a constant game of chess between Commanders.  One piece out of place, and the entire board is compromised.  If against all odds they take the field and refuse orders, I will not sanction a diverting of force to save them, and nor will I allow them to deploy within a mile of Coalition forces.
I cannot justify killing dozens, perhaps hundreds more, and crippling our forces to rescue a unit that is at this stage more of a strategic impediment than a benefit.  I pray they do not fight, they are good people, kind people, even if they make terrible soldiers.  Humanity needs their compassion, their kindness, and their benevolence - but I cannot use a sword that refuses to swing where it is directed, and the R.F.D is akin to the most unreliable blade in the armoury.
Luminary Drake Griggs also appears to be a potential obstacle, which is odd from a man I considered a fast friend.  At the meeting I called for the military leaders of the camp, Lord Griggs was at best a quiet observer, at worst mildly disinterested.  He strikes me as a man of few words absent cause, yet it was his support I was accounting as one of the most resolute.  Perhaps this estimate of him as a man unconcerned with politics was overhasty.  The Luminary offered no objection when I was nominated with Aodhan and Cainneth, yet now he appears almost to be avoiding me, as if he does not wish to acknowledge the reality of what occurred.
This is worrisome, as I factored he and Cervato Haswari both as staunch and committed allies in this war.  I pray I can still count on Cervato in this, but if the Luminary is hedging, I cannot help but feel she will follow him in doing so.  This would be crippling to our coalition; the Accord is set to lead the main core of our infantry.
Aodhan Helstrom, Morgan Valister and Cainneth Cross I have no concerns about.  The first is a man of war, he knows what’s needed and he understands the demands of honour and commitment to purpose.  I foresee many late evenings discussing strategy and tactics with the weathered Headmaster, a disciple of Balthazar in both thought and deed.  Cainneth Cross I can safely say has become a treasured friend, and a source of unerring integrity and wise counsel.  Of all those to have joined the Scions, he truly is an Exemplar in truth.  As for Morgan Valister, she is precisely what one would expect: austere, stoic, and utterly merciless.  In her eyes, I see the rage of butchered Ascalon, and a war fervour to rival mine own.  Lady Valister will be an integral part of this war effort, both for her mental acumen and the morale she will inspire in those around her.
These allied forces hold much promise, in the prosecution of the war against the Mantle.  With Crown support coming from Cainneth, and the combined forces of the Accord, and Noble Houses part of the various organisations in camp, and the brilliance of the Schools, I had expected a powerful war machine.  I am reminded, at this time, of one of my first initiatives: a campaign against a banner of Dragonsworn on behalf of the Vigil, in Scion 215, 1327 AE.  We had tracked their forces to a large expanse near the Ascalon border, and I had been commissioned by the Vigil to prosecute the hunt for the heretics.  I still remember their mad screeches as my couched lancers shattered them, the impact of the lances blowing apart their bodies and the thunder of the charge crushing skull and bone underhoof.
There is nothing more satisfying than a victory won through adherence to the doctrines of war: to adherence to honour, loyalty, and love of one’s comrades.  I cannot think of a more fitting reward than the smiles of joy on the faces of those you led not into death, but into the new dawn, through superior use of assets and dominion of the strategic and tactical planes.  There is a beautiful purity in the attainment of a good victory, of a pure victory, and the successful prosecution of an entire campaign - absent regret, or the stain of unsavoury deeds, neither of which I am pleased to say I have ever had the displeasure of experiencing.
Cristian Eskara is not in the same situation.
A man of considerable zeal, he continues to teeter between redeemed and damned, switching one day from humility and sombre remorse to arrogance and unapologetic savagery.  The High Exemplar has become a wraith of his own destruction, justifying things that could never be justified, impugning my reputation and motivations, and diverting from the conversation the moment his contradictions and falsifications are highlighted.  It saddens me.  I have faith in Cristian Eskara, more faith than Genevieve believes I should have, but I cannot turn away from him nor forsake him.  In many ways, he is a victim of his own circumstance, a war casualty over a much greater period of conflict.  I wish to believe he can save himself from his own demons, even if nobody else will.
My next decisions will shape what is to come, and I know I must tread carefully.  If I can secure the Luminary’s support, dispel Luxelen’s doubts, and manage to unite these people - to gain the chance I need, I can shatter any lingering misgivings.  I will prosecute this war with integrity, honour, and valour befitting the God of War.  I will take this burden upon my shoulders and carry it to the end of the line.  I have no aspirations for Empire, no matter what Cristian believes: I just wish to end the suffering, end the bloodshed, and protect those falling victim to its growing violence.  Every day this war drags on, good men, good women, pay for it.  It is my duty to defend mankind against that which assails it, and no threat is greater in its immediacy than the Mantle at Lake Doric.
I pray that my comrades in this cause rally to me, that Drake, Cervato, Luxelen, Cainneth, Aodhan, Morgan, William and Cristian - yes, even dear, misguided Cristian - stand with me and give me the faith I need, the faith I have given them, to not just end this war: but do so in a way that every man, woman, and otherwise can look back on and say was done rightly, and properly.  If they but offer me the moment, I will seize it, and victory will follow.  This is not simply a fight for land or territory, it is a war for the human soul.  How we fight it and how we win it are equally as important as winning itself.
I will pray they recognise the truth of my intent, and give me their support.
The alternative, I fear, is an end to all we have worked for.
Signed,
Elendenal Pendragon IV,
Scion of Honour.
( @luxelen, @cristianeskara, @genevievekent, @lordgriggs, @rising-ember )
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fifteenleads · 7 years
Text
on nights such as these
Yuuri knows how all this will end. Victor – beautiful, beloved Victor – will complete his divine task and return to his crystal slumber, while he will die a wretched, goddamned human, alone and forever tainted by history as the one who dared love a l'Cie.
He doesn’t let that stop him.
In which Victor is cursed, Yuuri is human, and they both fall in love just the same. [Loosely based on the mythos of Final Fantasy XIII.]
.
.
Yuuri is drawn the most to the statue’s bright, blue eyes – the most beautiful he has ever seen.
He is transfixed on the spot as he looks up in wonder at the unusual monument, the figure of a beautiful, naked man with long, flowing hair, raising his hands to the sky. Surrounded by overgrown foliage, the man-sculpture looks even more enrapturing than Adonis himself, the soft moonlight casting an ethereal glow to its crystalline form. It is truly a mystery why such a thing of beauty is left here to waste away in a dark, abandoned forest.
The young boy focuses once more on the statue’s eyes. They seem to catch a flicker of light, and he thinks he sees a flash of loneliness in them. A gentle wind blows from the north, carrying with it shrill, worried voices calling out his name.
Yuuri gives the statue one last, lingering gaze, a mix of admiration, longing and something vague clouding his childlike thoughts. The voices calling for him grow louder and nearer, and he blinks back tears before finally trudging on the worn path from which he came.
He thinks he hears his name being echoed from behind, a soft, gentle whisper in the air.
He cries the whole way back.
.
He barely makes the last airship, and he cannot contain his overflowing relief as he sinks into his seat. The young man is too winded from running across end-to-end terminals to care about his sweat staining the cheap upholstery.
Yuuri Katsuki, Atlas University’s newest class valedictorian at twenty-three, almost didn’t make it to his interview for a boring desk job at the Civil Service Department. Now there’s a funny story he could tell the kids someday - plus the importance of punctuality, and all that jazz.
An in-flight service crew member approaches him not long after he’s settled in. He places orders for mineral water and a bowl of katsudon.
Yuuri hooks his chin over the ledge, absently observing the moonlight filtering through the sea of clouds below them. This kind of scenery is very much his aesthetic, and is one of the reasons why he prefers to fly at night. (That, and it’s relatively cheaper.)
He is reminded of that night many years ago, when he saw a l'Cie in crystal stasis up close for the first time in his life.
((Yuko cries immediately when he finally meets up with them. Minako-sensei and Takeshi berate him relentlessly soon after. "What if you got attacked by the forest Cie'th?!"
He does not tell them about the beautiful man-sculpture by the lake.))
Yuuri frowns as the fleeting thought leaves his mind. He knows better now; l'Cie are humans chosen by the gods, bound to live an eternity of loyal servitude in exchange for immortality and otherworldly power. L'Cie who accomplish their divine tasks or Focuses are rewarded with indefinite rest, turned into ornate crystal statues until the gods require their services once more. Those who fail, on the other hand, become mindless monsters called Cie'th, cursed to forever wander the barren lands to prey and be preyed on by the living.
No one understands how and why this phenomenon happens, but everyone agrees that it is better to die than to be branded a l'Cie.
The Sanctum, too, does not look kindly upon l'Cie, if the state-sponsored executions and mass purges are of any indication. Yuuri makes a mental note of this, reminding himself to be cautious if he wants to remain on the government’s good side.
He banishes thoughts of the lifeless, crystalline visage from his mind, the beautiful but soulless blue eyes that, even now, haunt his dream at night.
He falls asleep to the silent whirring of the basement engines and a gentle voice whispering his name. Good night, Yuuri, it says. You’ll be fine tomorrow.
.
Tomorrow never comes, however.
Yuuri attempts to break the thick glass window with a piece of rubble. A terrorist had apparently sneaked into the engine room, revealing themselves only now in the middle of the night to assassinate a high-profile Cabinet Minister who is also on this flight.
He vaguely recalls hearing a loud, strangled cry some distance away, plus gunshots and a neck snapping in half.
Everyone around him is dead, as well.
Terrified, he frantically hits the jagged stone repeatedly on the barrier, praying with every forceful strike for the glass to finally break. He doesn’t want to be here, bloodied and ashen-faced and crying and soon dead.
Another explosion goes off, the shockwave blowing him away and sending him crashing into the disordered seats. Immediately, Yuuri scrambles up on his knees and runs away as far as his exhausted legs and hyperventilating lungs could take him.
He ends up in the tail-end cabin of the airship, crying in earnest while curled up in a fetal position behind one of the short couches. This isn't supposed to happen, this isn’t real, thisisntreal thisisntreal thisisntreal–
A hand suddenly comes down on his shoulder, effectively cutting off his panicked, obsessive mantra. “There you are, Yuuri! Are you okay?”
He instinctively looks up into the eyes of his savior – beautiful and haunting and a bright, bright blue.
Long, glowing, silver hair. Flawless, pale skin and a perfectly-chiseled face. Heart-shaped lips that are pursed in a questioning manner, waiting for his response.
Yuuri is unable to back away, completely paralyzed with fear. He spots the l'Cie brand on the man’s left chest, partially hidden by a half-buttoned, bloodied, gray jumpsuit that is a little too loose on his tall, slender frame.
He is the most beautiful person Yuuri has ever seen.
The l'Cie frowns, his eyes furrowed in mild annoyance. “We should get out of here, Yuuri,” he says evenly. “The PSICOM are coming any minute now.”
Yuuri realizes he’s going to die, either way.
He numbly takes the hand offered to him.
((The burning airship explodes behind them as they leap off the viewing deck.))
.
"How do you know my name?"
The l'Cie stops walking at the sudden question. Until then, he had not responded to anything Yuuri asked -- who are you, what the hell is going on, what do you want with me, why did you save my life.
The l'Cie faces him serenely, and Yuuri is reminded of the beautiful sculpture that has enraptured him many, many years ago, on a night just like this.
"I heard voices from far away," he says with a smile. "They called for you. They called you Yuuri."
Yuuri's breath hitches at the way his name is uttered -- carefully, reverently, as if in prayer.
It is his own, after all.
"That's me," he concurs. "I'm Yuuri Katsuki. What's your name?"
A flicker of light is reflected in those bright, blue eyes, and it is as if he suddenly comes back to life all over again. "It's Viktor," he finally answers, as the wind blows and blue rose petals dance. "Viktor Nikiforov."
.
(("Yuuri, I need your help."))
.
Maybe life as a fugitive isn't so bad, Yuuri thinks to himself as he heats up the gruel from last night's dinner, watching the city unrest from the safety of their rundown apartment. He no longer has to think about reputation and taxes and responsibilities to the state. He is practically being pampered and taken care of by this beautiful, otherworldly man, who always goes the extra mile to make him feel special. And he's glad he took Home Ec classes seriously back then, because Viktor loves to eat, and Yuuri loves the way his eyes light up and his mouth widens into that heart-shaped smile as he squeals "Vkusno!" with every bite.
In a nutshell, Viktor runs all the errands, while Yuuri keeps house. It's as simple as it gets.
Except that it isn't, really.
It has been three months since the two have gone into hiding together, yet Yuuri doesn't have the slightest idea of exactly what it is Viktor needs from him. Was he a hostage? Not a chance; the Sanctum has already declared him a wanted criminal for aligning himself and conspiring with a l'Cie. There are even charges of terrorism and murder, on top of the public witch hunts and the rising bounty on his and Viktor's heads.
A suitable "companion", perhaps? That, too, was out. Viktor has not expressed any intentions towards him so far, and he doesn't seem like the type of person who would. Maybe having lived for more than five hundred years now has all but erased his humanity.
Viktor, who wears his heart on his sleeve and tells a million stories about his dog, is not human.
Yuuri has not forgotten that, but decides that he doesn't care. To him, Viktor is Viktor, and no one (or nothing) else. It's the only thing that matters.
There is a knock on the door, and his eyes lighten up as he welcomes his roommate home.
He is greeted with a blunt force to his head and a gun to his temple.
((The Sanctum has not forgotten, either.))
.
He wakes up in a small room, chained, wet and shivering. It is not his first time to pass out, Yuuri eventually recalls, as a gloved hand grabs him by his hair and submerges his head in freezing water. On instinct, he struggles against his torturer, the cold liquid going into his lungs even more as he tries his damnedest to breathe.
His agony is abruptly relieved as he is lifted out and above the ground, and he desperately kicks his shackled feet as he gasps for precious air.
"Where's the l'Cie?" the PSICOM officer asks, his deep, monotone voice partially muffled by his white helmet.
"I... don't.. know..." Yuuri manages to huff out in between painful coughs. He wonders if Viktor has returned home yet, and hopes for both their sakes that he hasn't.
A tinkling, feminine laugh sounds from behind him. "You're not being very helpful, you know," its owner playfully tuts, and he can hear heavy steps from heeled military boots inching towards him. "How many times have you said that again?"
Yuuri barely processes the question, his head feeling light and his vision swimming from the lack of oxygen, but still. "Lost count..." he croaks weakly. "But I'll say it again... for as long as you want." He reinforces his fragile bravado with every word, managing a weak, lopsided smirk at the woman.
"This is getting us nowhere," the male officer comments, his hold on Yuuri slightly loosening. "Maybe he really doesn't know."
The woman sighs in disappointment, and from the periphery of his vision, he sees her rummaging through a bag tied to the thick, iron bars. "We've been at this for a full day, and he still won't talk. No sightings of the l'Cie, either." She walks over to them once more, and Yuuri notices the dark red hair peeking through her uniform helmet. "It's a shame, really; seems like he's left you behind."
No no no, that's not true --
He tenses up as he feels a single baton poke at his side, the female officer's deep, menacing voice ringing in his ear. "For the last time, Yuuri Katsuki, where is he?"
Yuuri's eyes widen in fear. He wants to cry, to get out, to scream for help. For Viktor.
But he can't. His voice catches in his throat the moment he opens his mouth, and he can't.
He grits his teeth hard instead, and makes up his mind.
"I don't know," Yuuri says for the last time, and he screams in pain as electricity suddenly courses through his soaked body like a worn lightning rod.
He thinks he sees hell freeze over in a fraction of a second before he blacks out.
.
Yuuri is genuinely surprised that he's still alive.
For a while, he is afraid to open his eyes. He doesn't want to see where his two captors have brought him. He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, causing him to recoil back in terror and shakily turn over while curled up on himself.
Viktor's voice coaxes him back into reality, every repetition of his name like a balm to his shocked soul.
Yuuri eventually relaxes, slowly cracking an eye open, then the other. He is met with the l'Cie's ocean-blue eyes, illumined with the sea-green glow from a Curaga spell. He feels the pain eventually wash away, and tears form in his eyes -- his ordeal has finally ended.
Viktor cries, too, and envelops him in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh, Yuuri... Thank the gods you're finally awake..."
They stay silent in each other's arms the whole night, in a mix of tears and feelings and words yet unsaid.
.
(("Viktor, we need to talk."))
.
The next leg of their journey brings them to a lush, open meadow directly above ground. There are some monsters and a handful of Cie'th, which Viktor makes quick work of. Soon, they are biting into juicy, roasted meat and succulent fruit, and Yuuri swears it's the best dinner they've had since their escape from the sky-city.
"Nothing really beats all-natural scenery," Viktor happily remarks in between bites of food, a trail of clear juice dribbling down his chin. "I mean, the sky-city is nice and modern and all, but it's different from home."
Yuuri laughs and hands the other man a thin cloth to wipe his mouth with. "So you've always lived like this five hundred years ago?" He snickers at the thought of Viktor in primitive animal hides and loinskins, a funny image when contrasted to his current fashionista look. He looks just as good -- no, maybe even better -- with short hair.
The l'Cie's right eyebrow shoots up as he guesses what Yuuri's thinking, and he automatically waves his hand in defense. "No, no, of course not! We also had buildings and toilets and cars and buses! Our phones and computers aren't nearly as advanced as yours, though."
Yuuri's mouth widens into a big 'O', and he almost drops his own piece of meat. "Wait, if what you're saying is true, then how did all that," and he gestures his other hand around the open expanse of sheer nature, "become this?"
"Everyone abandoned this place," Viktor says matter-of-factly, pointedly looking at Yuuri like he's seen and heard it all. "Mother Nature simply took everything back, and things returned to the way they were."
An awkward silence momentarily fills the air, prompting Yuuri to change the subject. "... Tell me other interesting things about your world."
Viktor purses his lips in thought, then his eyes sparkle and his lips form that ridiculous heart-shaped smile again. "I used to be a figure skater!"
"Figure... skate?" Yuuri is understandably confused; he's never heard of such a sport.
"Yup, a figure skater!" Viktor beams, raising up a wide-open hand. "I was a five-time World Champion, too!"
"W-Wait, I still don't get it!" Yuuri fumbles over his words, Viktor's excited explanations flying over his head too fast. Fortunately, the l'Cie seems to notice this, quietly trailing off and instead taking both Yuuri's hands into his own.
"I guess I'm not explaining myself well, huh," Viktor muses. "Yura always did say I was never a good teacher."
Yuuri senses a pang of sadness at the mention of this Yura's name, so he does not probe any further. Before long, Viktor returns to his usual disposition and pulls them both up, leading them away from the clearing. "Shiva!" he playfully calls out.
A few moments later, a beautiful, blue-skinned female eidolon materializes before them, and kneels at Viktor's feet. He promptly lets go of Yuuri's hands and proceeds to carry on a one-sided conversation with the familiar. Yuuri chuckles to himself as he listens to Viktor's constant shift in tone throughout the conversation, ranging from teasing to annoyance to whining to excitement, all while gesticulating widely with his arms the way only he could.
Finally, Viktor returns to Yuuri's side, a triumphant smile on his face. "I got Shiva to make us a temporary ice rink! I'll teach you how to ice skate!"
"Whaaat?!" Yuuri almost all but screeched, but is soon left speechless as he watches Shiva circle a large expanse of land, adding layer upon layer of ice on the grassy ground. The end result is a large, ovoid area covered with a thick sheet of smooth ice.
Yuuri steps forward and almost trips. Looking down at his feet, he finds sharp blades frozen in place to the soles of his shoes. He whips his head back up to Viktor, who is now seated on a nearby fallen log, lacing up a pair of unusual boots with the same kind of blades underneath.
"Ahh, sorry about that," he apologizes sheepishly, "but it'll hold, I promise."
They soon take to the ice, Viktor guiding Yuuri along while he wobbles on his makeshift skates. He doesn't let go the whole time as they slowly glide on the frozen surface, rounding the corner for another lap.
"Yuuri, try bending your knees forward like this," Viktor instructs. "Put a little more distance between your feet. You'll balance yourself better that way."
Yuuri does as he's told, and he finds that his footing is now more stable. He grins in delight, and Viktor returns it with a proud smile of his own. They each let a hand go, and start skating faster across the ice side by side, Viktor's free laugh ringing in his ears.
It is another thing Yuuri commits to memory, adding it to the list of things he loves about Viktor --- his eyes, his hair, his face, his smile, his voice, his laugh.
His soft lips, as they press ever-so-gently on Yuuri's own.
They melt into each other's embrace at the center of the enchanted ice, thin snowflakes falling all around them beneath a clear, night sky, and Yuuri realizes that he's in love.
.
The derelict Great Library has an old, bulky mainframe that contains the largest database about the world before it was destroyed more than five hundred years ago.
It is also broken at the moment, but Yuuri sees it as more of a challenge, if nothing else.
His portable tablet is plugged into an adapter, which, in turn, is connected to the main monitor. The computer is displaying less error messages now, if Viktor's translations of the system texts are of any indication.
He hasn't expected the l'Cie to know that he'd majored in information technology in college, and that the job he'd applied for was as technical support for the Sanctum's master server.
"L'Cie in crystal stasis are aware of everything," Viktor says nonchalantly. "We're not nearly as omniscient as the gods, but it's close enough."
Yuuri cocks his head to the side expectantly, prompting Viktor for more proof, to which the latter gleefully obliges. "Your friends, Yuko and Takeshi, got married a month before you left. She's expecting triplets, by the way."
"Wow!" Yuuri exclaims, not knowing if the astonishment stems from the surprise news or from the fact that Viktor does know (almost) everything. The l'Cie winks back playfully in response, causing him to flush quicker than ever, feeling hot in certain areas more than others.
"... So, you know," he eventually manages to get out. "How I've always felt... when I was younger."
There goes that beautiful, hearty laugh again. "If I didn't know, I wouldn't have come find you all these months ago, now, would I?"
Yuuri has nothing to say against that.
"But I'm not in crystal stasis now," Viktor continues on, inching closer to Yuuri on all fours. He notices the mark of the l'Cie peeking out of the other man's loose shirt. The change in color has already progressed two-thirds through.
They don't have enough time -- they never did. (Who is Yuuri kidding?)
"-- Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
Why are you wasting time (on me), what is your Focus, go finish the damned thing or you'll turn into a Cie'th, don't die, don't leave me, I lov--
"Nothing in particular," Yuuri finally says, turning back to the ancient computer screen and inputting some more commands. "We need to finish this before sunrise."
"Right you are," Viktor murmurs, and the matter is dropped. He continues reciting translations to Yuuri, the remnants of a rueful smile lingering on his lips.
.
They reach Viktor's old hometown after a few weeks, following the coordinates provided by the old database. The whole place has been frozen over, including the giant wave that threatened to crash into it.
It is eerily beautiful and haunting, and it causes Viktor to all but break down on the spot.
Yuuri holds on to Viktor's trembling fist, but the l'Cie pulls away, downcast. "I need to be alone for a while... Please."
He watches Viktor's retreating back in silence, the frigid wind blowing through those short, silver locks. It hurts him very, very much.
Left with nothing else to do, Yuuri aimlessly wanders around the ghost town, kicking away the snow and small chunks of ice to read the street signs -- they're all in the old language, anyway, so it's pointless, really. (At least, he can periodically mark his way like this and not get lost later.)
He stops at a sparsely-decorated bridge and observes the frozen river underneath. He blinks away a sudden ideation of a bus crossing it, shielding his running form from the rising sun. And Viktor would be on the other side, waving at him to "come here faster".
A life where Viktor isn't a l'Cie, and they lead normal lives. Do ice skating. Live happily together.
Yuuri's heart breaks at the thought.
He knows how all this will end. Viktor -- beautiful, beloved Viktor -- will complete his divine task and return to his crystal slumber, while he will die a wretched, goddamned human, alone and forever tainted by history as the one who dared love a l'Cie.
A gust of cold wind blows from the north, carrying with it quiet, heart-wrenching, anguished sobs, filled with loneliness and bitterness and regret. Yuuri breaks into a run, searching for the familiar voice that cried for him from far, far away.
He finds Viktor standing before a large edifice encased in ice, his eyes glazed over and devoid of light. A swell of waves frozen in time bursts out from the building's entrance, at the center of which is a young boy with blond, chin-length hair and emerald-green eyes dressed in a shimmering white leotard. His last expression is frozen in one of pure terror, as his outstretched hand grasps nothing but thin air.
The horrifying image, the opposite of Viktor's own while in stasis, is burned in Yuuri's mind, and he is suddenly made aware of the painful burden the l'Cie has had to carry for the past five hundred years, ever-growing in his heart and granting his mind no rest, all while his body is trapped in cold, unfeeling crystal.
Yuuri embraces Viktor, letting his hot tears seep through the other man's clothing. Viktor soon keels over, burying his face in Yuuri's neck as he sobs violently. "Yura... Yakov... The whole town... Because of me..."
"It's all right," Yuuri answers, slowly rubbing circles onto Viktor's back.
"I never wanted to be a l'Cie!" Viktor shouts, his whole body shaking in anger and frustration. "I don't want this... I want to die..."
"Mm." Viktor, of all people, is truly the most qualified to say that. Yuuri cannot even begin to fathom how much weight those words really carry.
"I want to be with you forever."
Yuuri's hand stills at the revelation. All the wishful thinking comes back in a sudden rush, overwhelming his heart with feelings of part sadness and part joy. And though it is very selfish of him, he lets out a staggered breath in relief, letting out the rising tension forming from within.
"I will be right here."
Forever, too, let the gods be damned.
.
((They make love that night beneath thin, scratchy sheets, sharing the little warmth that remained between their tangled legs and beating hearts. And Yuuri vows, no matter what, to stay by Viktor's side and never leave.))
.
"Tell me about your Focus."
Viktor sits up with a start, as if it were the last thing he expected Yuuri to say while in bed. They have been avoiding this matter for weeks, now, finding it easier to fall back into routine -- Viktor hunting, Yuuri cooking, and them both fucking at night.
They measure time in moments now, in funny, domestic gaffes and stories about each other's lives. Yuuri talks about the hot springs from his hometown and his friends from college, while Viktor opens up about his past life as a champion figure skater -- his overbearing coach, his rinkmates and competitors, and Yuri Plisetsky.
(("The gods had chosen Yura. I had to protect him."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're a l'Cie. It led me to you."))
They both know it won't last forever, so they treasure each day as it comes.
"What did you see?" Yuuri rephrases his question, turning to look Viktor in the eye. He traces the l'Cie brand on his lover's chest with trepidation, all but a fifth of it already transformed in color.
Viktor considers Yuuri's words, seemingly lost in thought as he absently draws figure eights on the other man's naked thigh. His eyes glisten with tears, which he quickly blinks back before they could even fall.
"Hellfire," he eventually begins, and Yuuri props himself up, listening in earnest. "Everything up in flames. A creature roaring in the distance. Yet..." He pauses, trying to make sense of his own words.
Yuuri leans in closer, the worry lingering in his eyes as he hangs on to every word.
"... Oddly, I felt happy," Viktor continues, feeling conflicted himself. "Like it was the best thing that could ever happen. And it terrified me." He draws his human lover close and buries his head into the crook of the other man's neck. "So I ran away."
Yuuri laughs emptily, despite himself. "And took me with you."
"That I did," Viktor agrees with a chuckle. He brings his lips close to Yuuri's ear. "You're the only one who matters now. No one else."
Yuuri turns redder than the fresh meat they'd had for dinner, despite the fact that they have just finished doing more sinful things prior to this conversation. It is unfair how this beautiful, otherworldly man still manages to do things to him, even after already having seduced him completely, in body, mind, and soul.
Well, that's one serious moment ruined; he might as well.
He hungrily tackles Viktor with a deep kiss in response, and things devolve from there.
((They will talk in the morning; Yuuri will make sure of that.))
.
Viktor doesn't wake up the next morning.
Yuuri tries his hardest not to panic, wiping a cold towel onto the l'Cie's burning forehead with one hand while holding down his convulsing form with the other. Only a tenth of the brand has not progressed yet, and even that fraction is steadily diminishing by the hour.
At some point, he frantically calls out to Shiva for help. A blue aura envelops Viktor in response, slightly lowering his body temperature to a more manageable level. Even then, it does not stop the brand from advancing to its final stage, and Yuuri gasps when he sees that only the pointed embellishments of the l'Cie mark are left untouched.
It is not the first time he has felt powerless, but this time, it strikes him so much, and he wails.
"Gods, please! Don't take Viktor away from me!" Yuuri screams loudly in between violent hiccups and nerve-wracking sobs. "He's suffered long enough! He doesn't deserve this!"
And then, "I'll do anything you ask of me! I'll be a l'Cie in his place! So please let him live!"
All at once, Viktor's mark shines a blinding, bright blue, enveloping Yuuri's whole being until he could see no more. He is consumed by a sea of fire, stretching across the whole town, rapidly melting the ice and incinerating everything in the pure, red flames.
Yuuri opens his eyes and finds himself unhurt. He immediately looks around for Viktor, panicking when his lover is nowhere to be found. A loud, feral roar rings throughout the entire area, and a great beast with two long horns descends before him.
Bracing himself, he makes his way to the creature, the sea of fire parting with each step. He looks it straight in the eye. "Where is Viktor?" Yuuri demands.
"He is not here," comes the solemn, gravelly response. "You shall not pass."
Yuuri's fist shakes in anger, his teeth clenched so hard it bleeds from the corner of his mouth. He raises his head and stares the creature down. "Let me go through."
The beast roars in his face and breathes out fire. Yuuri does not flinch.
"I love Viktor," he declares. "I promised to stay by his side and never leave. Nothing and no one will stop me from going to him." His eyes narrow, and he spits out the last words. "Not even you, Ifrit."
The eidolon slams its fist into the ground, and pillars of lava rise up in succession. Some stray drops of hot liquid fly into Yuuri's face, body, arms and legs, and he winces in pain, but remains undaunted. He goes even closer, his goal in plain sight amidst the hurling rocks and dazzling flames.
As he does, Yuuri raises his voice once more, shouting with finality. "I am your master. Submit to me at once!"
His command is punctuated by the same burst of molten rock and fire, and a single word enters his mind: Hellfire.
The sea of flames burn brighter than ever, until it turns white-hot and Yuuri no longer feels anything but the searing pain of a l'Cie brand marking itself on his back.
A barrage of disjointed visions assault his mind in quick succession, but he is able to understand everything all at once.
It is the story of Viktor's past.
.
((Viktor is horrified upon seeing the accursed mark on Yuri's forearm, the brand almost completely consumed. "Why do you have this?"
Yuri brusquely slaps Viktor's hand away, unrolling back the sleeves of his one-piece costume. "Things happened, okay?" he says through clenched teeth. "Don't pry, old man. And don't tell anyone."
Viktor quickly falls into step behind his junior. "What is your Focus, Yura?"
"Like hell I'd know!" Yuri snaps, angrily stomping his right skate onto the matted ground. "Just go away already. You're distracting me."
The young skater stalks off towards the rink, muttering something incomprehensible. Viktor thinks he hears a choked sob before the door is slammed shut.))
.
((He shouldn't have left Yuri alone.
Viktor is filled with dread as the live feed from the rink shows Yuri clutching his head in pain in the middle of his short program, the commentators and reporters a cacophony of confused shouting as they wonder what in the world just happened. Yakov, too, is beside himself with worry.
I'm sorry, Yura, he thinks, not bothering to finish lacing up his skates, going straight to the kiss-and-cry instead.))
.
 ((It all goes to hell soon after.
The dike walling off the ocean from their below-sea level town has broken, and water is flowing in fast. Ironically, it's the skating rink that is submerged first.
Yuri is still unconscious in Yakov's arms, while Lilia and Georgi part the panicking spectators to escort them out. And it works really well, once they see the telltale beam of light penetrating the white of his costume sleeve.
Viktor meets them at the lobby, checking on the young boy's brand panickedly. Almost the whole mark has already been colored in.
He is too late.))
.
((Viktor holds onto Yuri for dear life, and prays like he's never prayed before.
"Yuri is still young. He doesn't deserve this... I'll take his place, so let him live!..."
Really, he doesn't know what he's wishing for. But it works, and now all he sees is an icy wasteland. The beautiful, blue-skinned eidolon taunts him, for lack of a better word, and all he can do is beg for everything to be over.))
.
 (("Everything" soon comes to an end with the blink of an eye.
He wakes up to a dead, frozen town, "Diamond Dust" on his lips and everyone else's blood on his hands.
It is Yuri's face that seals the deal, forever frozen in time as he shouts for Viktor to not do this.
He is terrified, so he runs away, not to return for another five hundred years.))
.
((The gods finally take pity on him after more than a century of flitting between l'Cie and crystal, wandering and killing and fending for himself. He slumbers in the middle of an abandoned forest, and there he waits for a miracle, his tired hands reaching for the sky.
It comes nearly four hundred years later, in the form of Yuuri.))
.
"He was not weak," Yuuri murmurs, kneeling before Viktor's still form, the whole town burnt away around them beyond recognition. He clasps both cold hands into his own, reciting the incantation of a Cure spell. A gentle, green light bathes Viktor's hands, soon extending to the rest of his body. His erratic breathing soon evens out, his cheeks and lips now less pale.
"You've been fighting alone all these years," Yuuri whispers, finally coming undone, letting his tears fall onto Viktor's hands. "It's all right, I'm here."
"I love you so much."
Viktor slowly comes back to life. Bright, blue eyes gaze into serene, brown ones, and he raises his hand to cradle Yuuri's cheek, delivering his happiest, most beautiful smile in more than five hundred years.
"My Yuuri," he begins, and it floods his whole being with overflowing warmth, "I could ask for nothing more."
They share a tender kiss in an expanse of ash and rubble, two beings cursed to live forever with powers they never wanted, not knowing what future awaits them in a cruel world that abhors their existence.
But maybe eternity isn't such a bad thing, when spent in the arms of the one you love.
"I love you," Viktor says, his hands freezing in place around Yuuri's torso as shards of crystal form around them. Yuuri doesn't move away, playfully bumping against his lover's forehead with his own. Their crystalline forms share an expression of pure bliss, their eyes shining with boundless love, unadulterated joy and the promise of forever.
It is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen.
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lucieponard-blog · 5 years
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_GAP : La forme et le sens FAIRE DES OBJETS QUI PLAISENT.… Sophie Dubuisson Antoine Hennion
Intro :
What makes an object please? It becomes possible to treat the question practically, to tear it from the most abstract questions that it could also raise, by observing the work of the designers of a first agency, the GAP agency. It is a fashion agency, employing a dozen designers. In the middle, the agency has a strong brand image, its designers have the reputation of making a very "artistic" design, to be attentive to lines and shapes, to the beautiful object, to defend a design aesthetic that claims simultaneously, according to a fairly dominant view among French designers, as being sensitive to social symbolism, to the charge of meaning that design must give to objects: a mixture of Barthes and Baudrillard, who are indeed the leading figures of all the public works of the designers - so much so that it is not easy to decide for what part they inspired the design and for what part the design inspired them. The result is there, the work of the designers of GAP seems tailor-made to validate the theories of Baudrillard, unless it is these which rationalize the instructions of the social of the designers.
I selected and translated some interesting parts.
spaces and furniture, their uses in connection with the emergence of new activities. At this prospective stage, designers consider the function in its most global: the relationship between the user and the object that gives the latter its reason to be there. How are objects used? The report of the object to the user is then expanded, the "functional function" does not exhaust the dimensions that the designer of GAP would like to take into account when building a concept. If the object has a function, it is that of being able to bring something to the user, to be useful to him. But he does not reduce this utility to functionalism, the notions of "well-being", "happiness", "pleasure", according to the terms he uses, are also for him the forms of a certain utility or function of the object: "Function is not only the technical function, it is also the symbolic function, the function of reading" (Marc, the creative agency). What objects bring, say and transform are for the designer the most highly estimable effects: "What is important in the objects is to see what they tell us", "I like objects that me talk ". Users can find in objects a utility that is not limited to their proper functioning, but goes beyond: "It is an object that makes me happy", "people like objects that remind them of a past". The design goes further than the function, it exceeds it. In his speech the designer designates his work as what is "more" or "extra", which "goes beyond", which "exceeds" considerations that are only commercial, technical or functional.
By looking at how the designers of GAP characterize objects that have not passed into the hands of designers, we can see how they define the register of their intervention on objects. They often criticize these objects as having neither "sense" nor "concept", to "evoke" nothing. They know that all manufacturers do not use designers, that is to say that there are objects on the market that have not been treated in design, a situation they deplore. According to them, these objects go unnoticed - the design would therefore ensure that objects are seen. Their visibility appears to be the main condition of their existence, it is she who will make the object interesting. Through these notions, we have a delimitation of design work on industrial objects. Before his intervention, the material exists through its technical, commercial, functional performances, the designer wants to be able to hold all three in a "concept" that makes sense. Inspired by Baudrillard's literature in which objects are systems of signs arranged around us, designers charge objects of meaning, speech and meaning. But if, for Baudrillard, the objects lead us into the excess of a spiral of consumption that we can not control, for the designers of GAP, the objects are less lark mirrors or hollow boxes that markers that mark our environment, and concrete markers of our identity, in a rather vague, open sense, which moves away from the social recognition of a status or taste, referred to marketing, to aim at the shared evocation of a quality , rising with the contact of objects like memory with Proust's madeleine. 
Objects are "signs", signifying elements. They "speak", "say something", "offer a reading", "evoke", "express", "carry a speech", "tell each other". The work of GAP designers becomes the incorporation of this discourse into the object. By putting meaning into these boxes which are at the beginning, for them, without soul and without identity, they make them objects "which say something" and "which carry meanings". Loaded with so much identity, the objects reveal themselves as carrying characters. They are "marked", "media" or "nerdy", "warm", "tender" or "maternal", or "masculine", "laborious" or "industrial". In this way, they are qualified by the designers as would be living beings with a personality and able to express themselves. Objects are no longer without soul. Their personality makes them symbols of values, reflecting at once their own characteristics and the discourses they want to be the messengers. They "endorse values ​​of modernity" or are "references of power", they carry "signs of wealth" or "technology", or are themselves signs of "hygienism", " purity "," virginity "," cleanliness "," simplicity "or" wholesomeness ".
The meaning that GAP designers recognize to objects is partly inscribed in their own identity, it emerges from them, with their help. But this conception of meaning is quite far from the physical object, and can be very external to it. The meaning of an object can also be the faculty of opening a universe, of being a gateway to a world, like the forests, lakes or rivers of medieval mythology. The objects are taken as keys, they open paths and unfold the drape of our imaginations. If such an accessory for early childhood is "maternal", it is mainly because it evokes the warmth of love that a mother brings to her child. Referring to "the world of ironing", the iron designed by the agency must recall both the smell of freshly washed and ironed laundry, but also the efficiency at work of a woman concerned about his ironing. The world of ironing is all this world of objects, colors and smells that the action of ironing must evoke, but it is also, from these physical traits, this world of values ​​and references to which adhere the housewife.
The design work on school-class furniture will make them the elements of another universe, that of the office. All of a sudden, they become more rewarding for the faculty, more motivating and better adapted for new school activities, because the designer reads in the market that the school universe of the blackboard and the professor's chair is exceeded we are now in the days of efficiency, work and value through work. The notions of universe or family used by designers reflect their will to act on objects but also on what surrounds them, beings, other objects, places and time. The designer wants to be able to connect different elements between them, to establish connections to build, like a geometry, worlds.
Objects make us dream, that is to say, they transport from one state to another, from one time to another or from one world to another. They can transform, and that's the "razor that makes it beautiful". They can "be vehicles of dreams" and take you into a "domestic universe", which will remind the house where it will always be good to take refuge because the values ​​are reassuring. They can also force the memory, the memory of certain times or places where we like to be. Anne, who is mainly involved in thinking about concepts, and is involved in this very early in the design work, is part of the team responsible for thinking about the new organization of offices and their furniture. She thought of the need for a conference room that could break with the often noisy and stressful office environment. It is with reference to the mythical place of the National Library that she proposed to organize the space, because the room, endowed with the same characteristics, would become able to release a library atmosphere and would encourage a work of reflection: « we come to think, to be calm, to work. " Similarly, the reflection around the concept of the meeting room has led the designer to think of "a market" because in the same way that a market, a meeting brews ideas and men, produces exchanges and contacts . The work done by the designer is that of the mapping of places or objects, referencing seems to be the effect of an intellectual process that the designer does not theorize: "it reminds me of" explains he simply. An important part of his work is intellectualized but not formalized and consists of a connection between ideas or objects between them. The designer wants to be able to give the objects a power of mediation. Via the object, a dialogue could take place between the object, its user, the environment and the designer himself.
The "memory universes" and the "reference universes" are these whole worlds contained in the objects, they are neither material nor technical, they are the ones that the designers refer to when they speak of meaning, starting from they think about the "concept" of the object, which is the first production of the designer. Like these passages in the Grail stories, objects are primarily intended to "connote", to "refer to". Le Petit Robert tells us, following Goblot, to define the connotation: "Every name denotes subjects and connotes qualities belonging to these subjects". They are the ones the designer has to bring out, as they say. Thus taken up in the sense, the object "connotes order", "confers the idea", "means quality", "carries an atmosphere". It is not, objectively speaking, in the sense that it does not necessarily have the attributes that it puts forward, but it is what makes it possible to pass to, to think of. Before being a message or a speech, it is a passage, the meaning is behind it. The quality that the designer of GAP defines for its objects is related to the ability to allow these passages. The truth of objects lies in their availability to evocation.
It would be excessive to consider that GAP designers take objects for signs. They do not make any signs of it either: rather, they work with them to make them fit to make sense. Neither totally external to each other, nor solidarity, sense and object are made each other under the fingers of a skillful designer: we understand that in this conception of design, the technique and the function of the object are put aside and attributed to others, it is largely by shifting away from this too present materiality of the physical object that the designer opens another mode of existence, in a world where he becomes the vehicle of values ​​and meaning.
This work of "concretization of signs", of making sense, goes through a particular means. For designers, it is first by the appearance of objects that it is possible to enter the worlds they open. From the subject matter and the content of the object, the designer of GAP retains above all that which is perceived, giving rise to an evocation, by association with another perception. Hence the constant link made in the agency between the meaning and the form, a little on the register of natural evidence - whereas, outside this precise conception of the meaning of objects, these two aspects could very well be oppose.
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robertkstone · 7 years
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First Drive: 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier
LAKE GEORGE, Michigan — The first-generation Chevrolet Traverse represented a brand and its corporation in transition, having launched the model year before General Motors’ bankruptcy. American families were starting to trade in truck-based sport/utility vehicles like the Chevy TrailBlazer for more carlike unibody front-wheel-drive-based SUVs. Ten years later, Chevrolet is stepping up its game in this segment, taking on leaders like the best-selling Ford Explorer, as well as the likes of the Jeep Grand Cherokee, Toyota Highlander, Hyundai Santa Fe and Honda Pilot, all of which are more popular than the Traverse. Even Chevrolet’s bigger, traditional Chevy Tahoe/Suburban combo outsold Traverse by more than 46,000 units last year.
So the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse and its smaller compact sibling, the Equinox, are two key models in Chevy’s goal of becoming America’s number-one brand again. That means it must first catch Toyota, and then Ford, the latter of which outsold Chevrolet by nearly 391,000 units last year.
To drive its competitive points home, Chevy offered journalists a chance to take their families to various Michigan resorts (yes, we have them) for the weekend in order to best enjoy the Traverse’s qualities. No one among Automobile’s Detroit Bureau-based staff has kids, but my wife, Donna, and I have three collies in our family. We took up Chevy on its offer of a new Traverse for the weekend, and turned down the resort lodging offered as our destination in favor of our newly purchased, dog-friendly cabin off Lake George in the north-central part of the state, about 180 miles away.
There will be fur.
Outside, the new Traverse shares Chevy’s very handsome design language and its coke-bottle body forms with the new Equinox. The two SUVs recall the organic, fuselage-style profiles of Chevy’s glory years in the 1960s and early ‘70s. Chevy says that the all-new Traverse is only slightly larger than the first model, with a 2.0-inch longer wheelbase and a slight increase in overall length, but significantly more interior space.
“We wanted the feeling and the presence of a truck,” says designer Rich Scheer. It has ‘Tahoe DNA’—more SUV than CUV, he says.
I think the new Chevy Traverse looks much sleeker, tighter and less people-mover-like than the old Traverse.
“The fact that the truck studio designed this model is not a happy accident,” says Steve Majoros, marketing director for Chevrolet cars and crossovers.
That’s a major hint. We know the 2019 Chevrolet Silverado and 2020 Chevy Tahoe/Suburban will be radically updated, with sleeker, more aerodynamic styling, so it’s pretty clear that the 2018 Chevy Traverse is a 7/8-scale preview of those full-size trucks. Imagine the next Tahoe/Suburban as a larger, longer Traverse. Cut the top off aft the b- or c-pillar, throw a solid rear axle back in, and you have the next Silverado. Whether this styling translates into being more truck-like or not, it works, and it should move the metal among mainstream consumers, who typically list “styling” as a major purchase consideration.
Underneath, the 2018 Traverse is all-new. It rides on the C1Y platform shared with the smaller GMC Acadia and the coming Mark II Buick Enclave. Its 3.6-liter V-6 is the only carryover piece, and only engine choice thus far. This is not the 3649-cc V-6 with Active Fuel Management (cylinder shut-off) introduced in the Cadillac CT6, but instead an updated version of the 3564-cc High-Feature V-6 that’s been on the market for more than a decade. It’s coupled to GM’s new 9-speed automatic transmission, and features stop/start technology, with no shutoff switch for the driver. Manumatic control is limited to a button on the gearshift, and the driver may select a range of gears among the nine while in tow mode.
The suspension of the Traverse has MacPherson struts up front and a five-link rear. Chief engineer Dean Perelli points to the Sachs PLV passive dampers with rebound springs in the rear as an important addition. A urethane vertical bar inside the spring coils, called a Spring Aid, serves as a jounce bumper.
The result is a soft, supple ride, but with good handling, Perelli says. The electrically assisted power steering has variable effort, and the turning diameter of 39 feet is about 1.5-feet tighter than the old model’s.
Base wheels are 18-inchers, but our spiffy-looking Traverse Premier’s $2,495 Redline Edition appearance package adds 20-inch aluminum wheels and paints them black with red accents. It also blacks out the chrome trim and the bowtie badges and adds a dual Skyscape sunroof and the trailering package.
Donna and I headed for the cabin late Friday afternoon, the Traverse loaded up with our three collies and just a couple of bags. The Traverse’s three rows of seats meant nothing to us. We folded down the second-row captains chairs and the third row bench, and tried to fill in the space between those second-row seats with bags in order to keep the floor as flat as possible for the dogs. If you have dogs and no kids, you’ll want the second-row bench.
The updated V-6 is smooth and powerful, with really nice throttle tip-in. Keep your right foot in it and the 3.6 rewards you with a subtle motorboat trill as you smoothly and quickly reach the mid- and upper-rev ranges. Chevy says 0-60 mph comes in less than 7 seconds, respectable for a 4,362-pound three-row SUV. Ours was a front-wheel-drive model, closer to the stated curb weight than one with the optional all-wheel-drive system.
Because collie Hugo was born blind and has obsessive-compulsive disorder, we can’t buckle him in—and so we don’t buckle in Django or Maude, either. (We usually put up some netting behind the front seats.) Driving with three dogs means being less aggressive on the highway and leaving more space for gentler braking. I made good use of the surround vision cameras, which make backing into parking spaces easy, though we had no use for the “teen driver technology.”
The Traverse’s suspension and steering work as Perelli advertised. It’s probably the smoothest and most comfortable ride among SUVs in this segment, nicely soaking up the expansion strips and the crumbling bits of Michigan’s I-96 and State Highway 127. The jounce control means that dive isn’t bad when sudden brake lights ahead force a harder-than-usual stop. The steering is precise and light, offering good feedback, though the ratio isn’t so quick as to feel too twitchy for such a big, tall sport/utility. This is a comfortable, well-balanced SUV that will suit a family with a sportier, more enthusiast-oriented car on the other side of the garage.
Donna was happy to find that the front passenger seat, like the driver’s seat, has power lumbar support, a feature all too rare, even in luxury models. We ran the front seat coolers on the way up to Lake George. Interior materials and fit-and-finish are state-of-the-art for a brand offering luxury at a commodity price, with rich-looking padding on the dashboard and better-than-average plastic finish on the lower parts of the doors. The Traverse has a lot of convenient storage, including a hidden compartment behind the power-operated radio/navigation screen and a deep compartment under the cargo load floor that’s good for carrying food right under the dogs’ paws. Our $47,930 Chevy Traverse Premier Redline is priced up there with Buick Enclaves and Infiniti QX60s, though the base Traverse starts at $30,875, and the popular Traverse LT with cloth seats begins at $35,495.
We enjoyed the Bose Premium 10-speaker hi-fi, standard with the Premium trim, listening to a mix of public radio and XM channel 67, but we didn’t bother with Apple CarPlay (what are we going to do – call each other?) nor the OnStar or 4G LTE wi-fi hotspot. Longer trips, maybe. Everything operates by touchscreen, though. Chevrolet eschewed the tuning knob in the new Traverse, as well as the Equinox, which makes finding that out-of-town radio station too distracting.
We did use the navigation system and its eight-inch color touchscreen on Saturday night to find a restaurant in Cadillac. The navigation took us out of our way by maybe half a mile, through a closed-loop cul de sac in our lake area community, before directing us to the town about 35 miles away.
On Sunday morning, I drove to a dirt road near our cabin, where there’s some deep sand on parts of the mile-long stretch that goes unplowed during wintertime. I could have had some fun with the twin-clutch Advanced AWD system that disconnects the propshaft for better fuel efficiency. It’s standard on the new top-of-the-range $52,995-base Traverse High Country.
The High Country’s Advanced AWD has four driver-selectable modes (our FWD model came with three; standard, snow-mode and trailer, of which Traverse can tow up to 5,000 pounds). In AWD off-road mode, the system turns the Chevy Traverse High Country into something of a rally car around dirt-road corners, “like a WRX,” says chief engineer Perelli. For me, with my FWD Premier Redline, the road made only a decent photo-op.
It acquitted itself well back in Metro Detroit Monday, when I subjected the SUV to my standard local cloverleaf of right-turn sweepers. There’s no wallow to accompany the soft, comfortable ride, and the SUV steers through such turns with mild, predictable understeer and moderate yaw. You can go sufficiently fast without alerting any stability control nannies, unlike, say the segment-leading Ford Explorer with its overly intrusive Curve Control.
The Traverse’s steering initially required a bit of mid-curve correction. Even with 266 pound-feet going to the front wheels, there was no detectable torque-steer. I heard and felt the un-defeatable stop/start start up just once, on the way back to the office from this modest handling exercise. Otherwise, the fuel-saving feature was undetectable without an eye on the tachometer. It’s the best stop/start in the business.
The three-hour drive back to Metro Detroit a day earlier was uneventful in a good way, even with traffic jams south on 127 and east on 96 as other weekenders tried to get home. Yes, it’s a drive-and-forget sort of vehicle, with a plethora of entertainment options for three-hour-plus trips, with the best-looking styling in the segment. By Monday, I had driven the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Redline more than 600 miles, the last 256.7 off a fill-up in Cadillac. Indicated fuel mileage was 25.3 mpg at an average speed of 46.7 mph, but by my calculation (and with three or four extra clicks on the regular unleaded pump), I averaged 23.9 mpg. I returned the Traverse to Chevy with the weekend’s bugs and dirt washed off, and just about all of the fur vacuumed from the interior.
2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $45,395/$47,930 (base/as tested) ENGINE 3.6L DOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,800 rpm, 266 lb-ft @ 2,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 7-passenger, front-engine, FWD SUV EPA MILEAGE 18/27 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 204.3 x 78.6 x 70.7 in WHEELBASE 120.9 in WEIGHT 4,362 lb 0-60 MPH 6.9 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A
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jesusvasser · 7 years
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First Drive: 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier
LAKE GEORGE, Michigan — The first-generation Chevrolet Traverse represented a brand and its corporation in transition, having launched the model year before General Motors’ bankruptcy. American families were starting to trade in truck-based sport/utility vehicles like the Chevy TrailBlazer for more carlike unibody front-wheel-drive-based SUVs. Ten years later, Chevrolet is stepping up its game in this segment, taking on leaders like the best-selling Ford Explorer, as well as the likes of the Jeep Grand Cherokee, Toyota Highlander, Hyundai Santa Fe and Honda Pilot, all of which are more popular than the Traverse. Even Chevrolet’s bigger, traditional Chevy Tahoe/Suburban combo outsold Traverse by more than 46,000 units last year.
So the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse and its smaller compact sibling, the Equinox, are two key models in Chevy’s goal of becoming America’s number-one brand again. That means it must first catch Toyota, and then Ford, the latter of which outsold Chevrolet by nearly 391,000 units last year.
To drive its competitive points home, Chevy offered journalists a chance to take their families to various Michigan resorts (yes, we have them) for the weekend in order to best enjoy the Traverse’s qualities. No one among Automobile’s Detroit Bureau-based staff has kids, but my wife, Donna, and I have three collies in our family. We took up Chevy on its offer of a new Traverse for the weekend, and turned down the resort lodging offered as our destination in favor of our newly purchased, dog-friendly cabin off Lake George in the north-central part of the state, about 180 miles away.
There will be fur.
Outside, the new Traverse shares Chevy’s very handsome design language and its coke-bottle body forms with the new Equinox. The two SUVs recall the organic, fuselage-style profiles of Chevy’s glory years in the 1960s and early ‘70s. Chevy says that the all-new Traverse is only slightly larger than the first model, with a 2.0-inch longer wheelbase and a slight increase in overall length, but significantly more interior space.
“We wanted the feeling and the presence of a truck,” says designer Rich Scheer. It has ‘Tahoe DNA’—more SUV than CUV, he says.
I think the new Chevy Traverse looks much sleeker, tighter and less people-mover-like than the old Traverse.
“The fact that the truck studio designed this model is not a happy accident,” says Steve Majoros, marketing director for Chevrolet cars and crossovers.
That’s a major hint. We know the 2019 Chevrolet Silverado and 2020 Chevy Tahoe/Suburban will be radically updated, with sleeker, more aerodynamic styling, so it’s pretty clear that the 2018 Chevy Traverse is a 7/8-scale preview of those full-size trucks. Imagine the next Tahoe/Suburban as a larger, longer Traverse. Cut the top off aft the b- or c-pillar, throw a solid rear axle back in, and you have the next Silverado. Whether this styling translates into being more truck-like or not, it works, and it should move the metal among mainstream consumers, who typically list “styling” as a major purchase consideration.
Underneath, the 2018 Traverse is all-new. It rides on the C1Y platform shared with the smaller GMC Acadia and the coming Mark II Buick Enclave. Its 3.6-liter V-6 is the only carryover piece, and only engine choice thus far. This is not the 3649-cc V-6 with Active Fuel Management (cylinder shut-off) introduced in the Cadillac CT6, but instead an updated version of the 3564-cc High-Feature V-6 that’s been on the market for more than a decade. It’s coupled to GM’s new 9-speed automatic transmission, and features stop/start technology, with no shutoff switch for the driver. Manumatic control is limited to a button on the gearshift, and the driver may select a range of gears among the nine while in tow mode.
The suspension of the Traverse has MacPherson struts up front and a five-link rear. Chief engineer Dean Perelli points to the Sachs PLV passive dampers with rebound springs in the rear as an important addition. A urethane vertical bar inside the spring coils, called a Spring Aid, serves as a jounce bumper.
The result is a soft, supple ride, but with good handling, Perelli says. The electrically assisted power steering has variable effort, and the turning diameter of 39 feet is about 1.5-feet tighter than the old model’s.
Base wheels are 18-inchers, but our spiffy-looking Traverse Premier’s $2,495 Redline Edition appearance package adds 20-inch aluminum wheels and paints them black with red accents. It also blacks out the chrome trim and the bowtie badges and adds a dual Skyscape sunroof and the trailering package.
Donna and I headed for the cabin late Friday afternoon, the Traverse loaded up with our three collies and just a couple of bags. The Traverse’s three rows of seats meant nothing to us. We folded down the second-row captains chairs and the third row bench, and tried to fill in the space between those second-row seats with bags in order to keep the floor as flat as possible for the dogs. If you have dogs and no kids, you’ll want the second-row bench.
The updated V-6 is smooth and powerful, with really nice throttle tip-in. Keep your right foot in it and the 3.6 rewards you with a subtle motorboat trill as you smoothly and quickly reach the mid- and upper-rev ranges. Chevy says 0-60 mph comes in less than 7 seconds, respectable for a 4,362-pound three-row SUV. Ours was a front-wheel-drive model, closer to the stated curb weight than one with the optional all-wheel-drive system.
Because collie Hugo was born blind and has obsessive-compulsive disorder, we can’t buckle him in—and so we don’t buckle in Django or Maude, either. (We usually put up some netting behind the front seats.) Driving with three dogs means being less aggressive on the highway and leaving more space for gentler braking. I made good use of the surround vision cameras, which make backing into parking spaces easy, though we had no use for the “teen driver technology.”
The Traverse’s suspension and steering work as Perelli advertised. It’s probably the smoothest and most comfortable ride among SUVs in this segment, nicely soaking up the expansion strips and the crumbling bits of Michigan’s I-96 and State Highway 127. The jounce control means that dive isn’t bad when sudden brake lights ahead force a harder-than-usual stop. The steering is precise and light, offering good feedback, though the ratio isn’t so quick as to feel too twitchy for such a big, tall sport/utility. This is a comfortable, well-balanced SUV that will suit a family with a sportier, more enthusiast-oriented car on the other side of the garage.
Donna was happy to find that the front passenger seat, like the driver’s seat, has power lumbar support, a feature all too rare, even in luxury models. We ran the front seat coolers on the way up to Lake George. Interior materials and fit-and-finish are state-of-the-art for a brand offering luxury at a commodity price, with rich-looking padding on the dashboard and better-than-average plastic finish on the lower parts of the doors. The Traverse has a lot of convenient storage, including a hidden compartment behind the power-operated radio/navigation screen and a deep compartment under the cargo load floor that’s good for carrying food right under the dogs’ paws. Our $47,930 Chevy Traverse Premier Redline is priced up there with Buick Enclaves and Infiniti QX60s, though the base Traverse starts at $30,875, and the popular Traverse LT with cloth seats begins at $35,495.
We enjoyed the Bose Premium 10-speaker hi-fi, standard with the Premium trim, listening to a mix of public radio and XM channel 67, but we didn’t bother with Apple CarPlay (what are we going to do – call each other?) nor the OnStar or 4G LTE wi-fi hotspot. Longer trips, maybe. Everything operates by touchscreen, though. Chevrolet eschewed the tuning knob in the new Traverse, as well as the Equinox, which makes finding that out-of-town radio station too distracting.
We did use the navigation system and its eight-inch color touchscreen on Saturday night to find a restaurant in Cadillac. The navigation took us out of our way by maybe half a mile, through a closed-loop cul de sac in our lake area community, before directing us to the town about 35 miles away.
On Sunday morning, I drove to a dirt road near our cabin, where there’s some deep sand on parts of the mile-long stretch that goes unplowed during wintertime. I could have had some fun with the twin-clutch Advanced AWD system that disconnects the propshaft for better fuel efficiency. It’s standard on the new top-of-the-range $52,995-base Traverse High Country.
The High Country’s Advanced AWD has four driver-selectable modes (our FWD model came with three; standard, snow-mode and trailer, of which Traverse can tow up to 5,000 pounds). In AWD off-road mode, the system turns the Chevy Traverse High Country into something of a rally car around dirt-road corners, “like a WRX,” says chief engineer Perelli. For me, with my FWD Premier Redline, the road made only a decent photo-op.
It acquitted itself well back in Metro Detroit Monday, when I subjected the SUV to my standard local cloverleaf of right-turn sweepers. There’s no wallow to accompany the soft, comfortable ride, and the SUV steers through such turns with mild, predictable understeer and moderate yaw. You can go sufficiently fast without alerting any stability control nannies, unlike, say the segment-leading Ford Explorer with its overly intrusive Curve Control.
The Traverse’s steering initially required a bit of mid-curve correction. Even with 266 pound-feet going to the front wheels, there was no detectable torque-steer. I heard and felt the un-defeatable stop/start start up just once, on the way back to the office from this modest handling exercise. Otherwise, the fuel-saving feature was undetectable without an eye on the tachometer. It’s the best stop/start in the business.
The three-hour drive back to Metro Detroit a day earlier was uneventful in a good way, even with traffic jams south on 127 and east on 96 as other weekenders tried to get home. Yes, it’s a drive-and-forget sort of vehicle, with a plethora of entertainment options for three-hour-plus trips, with the best-looking styling in the segment. By Monday, I had driven the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Redline more than 600 miles, the last 256.7 off a fill-up in Cadillac. Indicated fuel mileage was 25.3 mpg at an average speed of 46.7 mph, but by my calculation (and with three or four extra clicks on the regular unleaded pump), I averaged 23.9 mpg. I returned the Traverse to Chevy with the weekend’s bugs and dirt washed off, and just about all of the fur vacuumed from the interior.
2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $45,395/$47,930 (base/as tested) ENGINE 3.6L DOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,800 rpm, 266 lb-ft @ 2,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 7-passenger, front-engine, FWD SUV EPA MILEAGE 18/27 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 204.3 x 78.6 x 70.7 in WHEELBASE 120.9 in WEIGHT 4,362 lb 0-60 MPH 6.9 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A
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eddiejpoplar · 7 years
Text
First Drive: 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier
LAKE GEORGE, Michigan — The first-generation Chevrolet Traverse represented a brand and its corporation in transition, having launched the model year before General Motors’ bankruptcy. American families were starting to trade in truck-based sport/utility vehicles like the Chevy TrailBlazer for more carlike unibody front-wheel-drive-based SUVs. Ten years later, Chevrolet is stepping up its game in this segment, taking on leaders like the best-selling Ford Explorer, as well as the likes of the Jeep Grand Cherokee, Toyota Highlander, Hyundai Santa Fe and Honda Pilot, all of which are more popular than the Traverse. Even Chevrolet’s bigger, traditional Chevy Tahoe/Suburban combo outsold Traverse by more than 46,000 units last year.
So the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse and its smaller compact sibling, the Equinox, are two key models in Chevy’s goal of becoming America’s number-one brand again. That means it must first catch Toyota, and then Ford, the latter of which outsold Chevrolet by nearly 391,000 units last year.
To drive its competitive points home, Chevy offered journalists a chance to take their families to various Michigan resorts (yes, we have them) for the weekend in order to best enjoy the Traverse’s qualities. No one among Automobile’s Detroit Bureau-based staff has kids, but my wife, Donna, and I have three collies in our family. We took up Chevy on its offer of a new Traverse for the weekend, and turned down the resort lodging offered as our destination in favor of our newly purchased, dog-friendly cabin off Lake George in the north-central part of the state, about 180 miles away.
There will be fur.
Outside, the new Traverse shares Chevy’s very handsome design language and its coke-bottle body forms with the new Equinox. The two SUVs recall the organic, fuselage-style profiles of Chevy’s glory years in the 1960s and early ‘70s. Chevy says that the all-new Traverse is only slightly larger than the first model, with a 2.0-inch longer wheelbase and a slight increase in overall length, but significantly more interior space.
“We wanted the feeling and the presence of a truck,” says designer Rich Scheer. It has ‘Tahoe DNA’—more SUV than CUV, he says.
I think the new Chevy Traverse looks much sleeker, tighter and less people-mover-like than the old Traverse.
“The fact that the truck studio designed this model is not a happy accident,” says Steve Majoros, marketing director for Chevrolet cars and crossovers.
That’s a major hint. We know the 2019 Chevrolet Silverado and 2020 Chevy Tahoe/Suburban will be radically updated, with sleeker, more aerodynamic styling, so it’s pretty clear that the 2018 Chevy Traverse is a 7/8-scale preview of those full-size trucks. Imagine the next Tahoe/Suburban as a larger, longer Traverse. Cut the top off aft the b- or c-pillar, throw a solid rear axle back in, and you have the next Silverado. Whether this styling translates into being more truck-like or not, it works, and it should move the metal among mainstream consumers, who typically list “styling” as a major purchase consideration.
Underneath, the 2018 Traverse is all-new. It rides on the C1Y platform shared with the smaller GMC Acadia and the coming Mark II Buick Enclave. Its 3.6-liter V-6 is the only carryover piece, and only engine choice thus far. This is not the 3649-cc V-6 with Active Fuel Management (cylinder shut-off) introduced in the Cadillac CT6, but instead an updated version of the 3564-cc High-Feature V-6 that’s been on the market for more than a decade. It’s coupled to GM’s new 9-speed automatic transmission, and features stop/start technology, with no shutoff switch for the driver. Manumatic control is limited to a button on the gearshift, and the driver may select a range of gears among the nine while in tow mode.
The suspension of the Traverse has MacPherson struts up front and a five-link rear. Chief engineer Dean Perelli points to the Sachs PLV passive dampers with rebound springs in the rear as an important addition. A urethane vertical bar inside the spring coils, called a Spring Aid, serves as a jounce bumper.
The result is a soft, supple ride, but with good handling, Perelli says. The electrically assisted power steering has variable effort, and the turning diameter of 39 feet is about 1.5-feet tighter than the old model’s.
Base wheels are 18-inchers, but our spiffy-looking Traverse Premier’s $2,495 Redline Edition appearance package adds 20-inch aluminum wheels and paints them black with red accents. It also blacks out the chrome trim and the bowtie badges and adds a dual Skyscape sunroof and the trailering package.
Donna and I headed for the cabin late Friday afternoon, the Traverse loaded up with our three collies and just a couple of bags. The Traverse’s three rows of seats meant nothing to us. We folded down the second-row captains chairs and the third row bench, and tried to fill in the space between those second-row seats with bags in order to keep the floor as flat as possible for the dogs. If you have dogs and no kids, you’ll want the second-row bench.
The updated V-6 is smooth and powerful, with really nice throttle tip-in. Keep your right foot in it and the 3.6 rewards you with a subtle motorboat trill as you smoothly and quickly reach the mid- and upper-rev ranges. Chevy says 0-60 mph comes in less than 7 seconds, respectable for a 4,362-pound three-row SUV. Ours was a front-wheel-drive model, closer to the stated curb weight than one with the optional all-wheel-drive system.
Because collie Hugo was born blind and has obsessive-compulsive disorder, we can’t buckle him in—and so we don’t buckle in Django or Maude, either. (We usually put up some netting behind the front seats.) Driving with three dogs means being less aggressive on the highway and leaving more space for gentler braking. I made good use of the surround vision cameras, which make backing into parking spaces easy, though we had no use for the “teen driver technology.”
The Traverse’s suspension and steering work as Perelli advertised. It’s probably the smoothest and most comfortable ride among SUVs in this segment, nicely soaking up the expansion strips and the crumbling bits of Michigan’s I-96 and State Highway 127. The jounce control means that dive isn’t bad when sudden brake lights ahead force a harder-than-usual stop. The steering is precise and light, offering good feedback, though the ratio isn’t so quick as to feel too twitchy for such a big, tall sport/utility. This is a comfortable, well-balanced SUV that will suit a family with a sportier, more enthusiast-oriented car on the other side of the garage.
Donna was happy to find that the front passenger seat, like the driver’s seat, has power lumbar support, a feature all too rare, even in luxury models. We ran the front seat coolers on the way up to Lake George. Interior materials and fit-and-finish are state-of-the-art for a brand offering luxury at a commodity price, with rich-looking padding on the dashboard and better-than-average plastic finish on the lower parts of the doors. The Traverse has a lot of convenient storage, including a hidden compartment behind the power-operated radio/navigation screen and a deep compartment under the cargo load floor that’s good for carrying food right under the dogs’ paws. Our $47,930 Chevy Traverse Premier Redline is priced up there with Buick Enclaves and Infiniti QX60s, though the base Traverse starts at $30,875, and the popular Traverse LT with cloth seats begins at $35,495.
We enjoyed the Bose Premium 10-speaker hi-fi, standard with the Premium trim, listening to a mix of public radio and XM channel 67, but we didn’t bother with Apple CarPlay (what are we going to do – call each other?) nor the OnStar or 4G LTE wi-fi hotspot. Longer trips, maybe. Everything operates by touchscreen, though. Chevrolet eschewed the tuning knob in the new Traverse, as well as the Equinox, which makes finding that out-of-town radio station too distracting.
We did use the navigation system and its eight-inch color touchscreen on Saturday night to find a restaurant in Cadillac. The navigation took us out of our way by maybe half a mile, through a closed-loop cul de sac in our lake area community, before directing us to the town about 35 miles away.
On Sunday morning, I drove to a dirt road near our cabin, where there’s some deep sand on parts of the mile-long stretch that goes unplowed during wintertime. I could have had some fun with the twin-clutch Advanced AWD system that disconnects the propshaft for better fuel efficiency. It’s standard on the new top-of-the-range $52,995-base Traverse High Country.
The High Country’s Advanced AWD has four driver-selectable modes (our FWD model came with three; standard, snow-mode and trailer, of which Traverse can tow up to 5,000 pounds). In AWD off-road mode, the system turns the Chevy Traverse High Country into something of a rally car around dirt-road corners, “like a WRX,” says chief engineer Perelli. For me, with my FWD Premier Redline, the road made only a decent photo-op.
It acquitted itself well back in Metro Detroit Monday, when I subjected the SUV to my standard local cloverleaf of right-turn sweepers. There’s no wallow to accompany the soft, comfortable ride, and the SUV steers through such turns with mild, predictable understeer and moderate yaw. You can go sufficiently fast without alerting any stability control nannies, unlike, say the segment-leading Ford Explorer with its overly intrusive Curve Control.
The Traverse’s steering initially required a bit of mid-curve correction. Even with 266 pound-feet going to the front wheels, there was no detectable torque-steer. I heard and felt the un-defeatable stop/start start up just once, on the way back to the office from this modest handling exercise. Otherwise, the fuel-saving feature was undetectable without an eye on the tachometer. It’s the best stop/start in the business.
The three-hour drive back to Metro Detroit a day earlier was uneventful in a good way, even with traffic jams south on 127 and east on 96 as other weekenders tried to get home. Yes, it’s a drive-and-forget sort of vehicle, with a plethora of entertainment options for three-hour-plus trips, with the best-looking styling in the segment. By Monday, I had driven the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Redline more than 600 miles, the last 256.7 off a fill-up in Cadillac. Indicated fuel mileage was 25.3 mpg at an average speed of 46.7 mph, but by my calculation (and with three or four extra clicks on the regular unleaded pump), I averaged 23.9 mpg. I returned the Traverse to Chevy with the weekend’s bugs and dirt washed off, and just about all of the fur vacuumed from the interior.
2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $45,395/$47,930 (base/as tested) ENGINE 3.6L DOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,800 rpm, 266 lb-ft @ 2,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 7-passenger, front-engine, FWD SUV EPA MILEAGE 18/27 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 204.3 x 78.6 x 70.7 in WHEELBASE 120.9 in WEIGHT 4,362 lb 0-60 MPH 6.9 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A
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jonathanbelloblog · 7 years
Text
First Drive: 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier
LAKE GEORGE, Michigan — The first-generation Chevrolet Traverse represented a brand and its corporation in transition, having launched the model year before General Motors’ bankruptcy. American families were starting to trade in truck-based sport/utility vehicles like the Chevy TrailBlazer for more carlike unibody front-wheel-drive-based SUVs. Ten years later, Chevrolet is stepping up its game in this segment, taking on leaders like the best-selling Ford Explorer, as well as the likes of the Jeep Grand Cherokee, Toyota Highlander, Hyundai Santa Fe and Honda Pilot, all of which are more popular than the Traverse. Even Chevrolet’s bigger, traditional Chevy Tahoe/Suburban combo outsold Traverse by more than 46,000 units last year.
So the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse and its smaller compact sibling, the Equinox, are two key models in Chevy’s goal of becoming America’s number-one brand again. That means it must first catch Toyota, and then Ford, the latter of which outsold Chevrolet by nearly 391,000 units last year.
To drive its competitive points home, Chevy offered journalists a chance to take their families to various Michigan resorts (yes, we have them) for the weekend in order to best enjoy the Traverse’s qualities. No one among Automobile’s Detroit Bureau-based staff has kids, but my wife, Donna, and I have three collies in our family. We took up Chevy on its offer of a new Traverse for the weekend, and turned down the resort lodging offered as our destination in favor of our newly purchased, dog-friendly cabin off Lake George in the north-central part of the state, about 180 miles away.
There will be fur.
Outside, the new Traverse shares Chevy’s very handsome design language and its coke-bottle body forms with the new Equinox. The two SUVs recall the organic, fuselage-style profiles of Chevy’s glory years in the 1960s and early ‘70s. Chevy says that the all-new Traverse is only slightly larger than the first model, with a 2.0-inch longer wheelbase and a slight increase in overall length, but significantly more interior space.
“We wanted the feeling and the presence of a truck,” says designer Rich Scheer. It has ‘Tahoe DNA’—more SUV than CUV, he says.
I think the new Chevy Traverse looks much sleeker, tighter and less people-mover-like than the old Traverse.
“The fact that the truck studio designed this model is not a happy accident,” says Steve Majoros, marketing director for Chevrolet cars and crossovers.
That’s a major hint. We know the 2019 Chevrolet Silverado and 2020 Chevy Tahoe/Suburban will be radically updated, with sleeker, more aerodynamic styling, so it’s pretty clear that the 2018 Chevy Traverse is a 7/8-scale preview of those full-size trucks. Imagine the next Tahoe/Suburban as a larger, longer Traverse. Cut the top off aft the b- or c-pillar, throw a solid rear axle back in, and you have the next Silverado. Whether this styling translates into being more truck-like or not, it works, and it should move the metal among mainstream consumers, who typically list “styling” as a major purchase consideration.
Underneath, the 2018 Traverse is all-new. It rides on the C1Y platform shared with the smaller GMC Acadia and the coming Mark II Buick Enclave. Its 3.6-liter V-6 is the only carryover piece, and only engine choice thus far. This is not the 3649-cc V-6 with Active Fuel Management (cylinder shut-off) introduced in the Cadillac CT6, but instead an updated version of the 3564-cc High-Feature V-6 that’s been on the market for more than a decade. It’s coupled to GM’s new 9-speed automatic transmission, and features stop/start technology, with no shutoff switch for the driver. Manumatic control is limited to a button on the gearshift, and the driver may select a range of gears among the nine while in tow mode.
The suspension of the Traverse has MacPherson struts up front and a five-link rear. Chief engineer Dean Perelli points to the Sachs PLV passive dampers with rebound springs in the rear as an important addition. A urethane vertical bar inside the spring coils, called a Spring Aid, serves as a jounce bumper.
The result is a soft, supple ride, but with good handling, Perelli says. The electrically assisted power steering has variable effort, and the turning diameter of 39 feet is about 1.5-feet tighter than the old model’s.
Base wheels are 18-inchers, but our spiffy-looking Traverse Premier’s $2,495 Redline Edition appearance package adds 20-inch aluminum wheels and paints them black with red accents. It also blacks out the chrome trim and the bowtie badges and adds a dual Skyscape sunroof and the trailering package.
Donna and I headed for the cabin late Friday afternoon, the Traverse loaded up with our three collies and just a couple of bags. The Traverse’s three rows of seats meant nothing to us. We folded down the second-row captains chairs and the third row bench, and tried to fill in the space between those second-row seats with bags in order to keep the floor as flat as possible for the dogs. If you have dogs and no kids, you’ll want the second-row bench.
The updated V-6 is smooth and powerful, with really nice throttle tip-in. Keep your right foot in it and the 3.6 rewards you with a subtle motorboat trill as you smoothly and quickly reach the mid- and upper-rev ranges. Chevy says 0-60 mph comes in less than 7 seconds, respectable for a 4,362-pound three-row SUV. Ours was a front-wheel-drive model, closer to the stated curb weight than one with the optional all-wheel-drive system.
Because collie Hugo was born blind and has obsessive-compulsive disorder, we can’t buckle him in—and so we don’t buckle in Django or Maude, either. (We usually put up some netting behind the front seats.) Driving with three dogs means being less aggressive on the highway and leaving more space for gentler braking. I made good use of the surround vision cameras, which make backing into parking spaces easy, though we had no use for the “teen driver technology.”
The Traverse’s suspension and steering work as Perelli advertised. It’s probably the smoothest and most comfortable ride among SUVs in this segment, nicely soaking up the expansion strips and the crumbling bits of Michigan’s I-96 and State Highway 127. The jounce control means that dive isn’t bad when sudden brake lights ahead force a harder-than-usual stop. The steering is precise and light, offering good feedback, though the ratio isn’t so quick as to feel too twitchy for such a big, tall sport/utility. This is a comfortable, well-balanced SUV that will suit a family with a sportier, more enthusiast-oriented car on the other side of the garage.
Donna was happy to find that the front passenger seat, like the driver’s seat, has power lumbar support, a feature all too rare, even in luxury models. We ran the front seat coolers on the way up to Lake George. Interior materials and fit-and-finish are state-of-the-art for a brand offering luxury at a commodity price, with rich-looking padding on the dashboard and better-than-average plastic finish on the lower parts of the doors. The Traverse has a lot of convenient storage, including a hidden compartment behind the power-operated radio/navigation screen and a deep compartment under the cargo load floor that’s good for carrying food right under the dogs’ paws. Our $47,930 Chevy Traverse Premier Redline is priced up there with Buick Enclaves and Infiniti QX60s, though the base Traverse starts at $30,875, and the popular Traverse LT with cloth seats begins at $35,495.
We enjoyed the Bose Premium 10-speaker hi-fi, standard with the Premium trim, listening to a mix of public radio and XM channel 67, but we didn’t bother with Apple CarPlay (what are we going to do – call each other?) nor the OnStar or 4G LTE wi-fi hotspot. Longer trips, maybe. Everything operates by touchscreen, though. Chevrolet eschewed the tuning knob in the new Traverse, as well as the Equinox, which makes finding that out-of-town radio station too distracting.
We did use the navigation system and its eight-inch color touchscreen on Saturday night to find a restaurant in Cadillac. The navigation took us out of our way by maybe half a mile, through a closed-loop cul de sac in our lake area community, before directing us to the town about 35 miles away.
On Sunday morning, I drove to a dirt road near our cabin, where there’s some deep sand on parts of the mile-long stretch that goes unplowed during wintertime. I could have had some fun with the twin-clutch Advanced AWD system that disconnects the propshaft for better fuel efficiency. It’s standard on the new top-of-the-range $52,995-base Traverse High Country.
The High Country’s Advanced AWD has four driver-selectable modes (our FWD model came with three; standard, snow-mode and trailer, of which Traverse can tow up to 5,000 pounds). In AWD off-road mode, the system turns the Chevy Traverse High Country into something of a rally car around dirt-road corners, “like a WRX,” says chief engineer Perelli. For me, with my FWD Premier Redline, the road made only a decent photo-op.
It acquitted itself well back in Metro Detroit Monday, when I subjected the SUV to my standard local cloverleaf of right-turn sweepers. There’s no wallow to accompany the soft, comfortable ride, and the SUV steers through such turns with mild, predictable understeer and moderate yaw. You can go sufficiently fast without alerting any stability control nannies, unlike, say the segment-leading Ford Explorer with its overly intrusive Curve Control.
The Traverse’s steering initially required a bit of mid-curve correction. Even with 266 pound-feet going to the front wheels, there was no detectable torque-steer. I heard and felt the un-defeatable stop/start start up just once, on the way back to the office from this modest handling exercise. Otherwise, the fuel-saving feature was undetectable without an eye on the tachometer. It’s the best stop/start in the business.
The three-hour drive back to Metro Detroit a day earlier was uneventful in a good way, even with traffic jams south on 127 and east on 96 as other weekenders tried to get home. Yes, it’s a drive-and-forget sort of vehicle, with a plethora of entertainment options for three-hour-plus trips, with the best-looking styling in the segment. By Monday, I had driven the 2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Redline more than 600 miles, the last 256.7 off a fill-up in Cadillac. Indicated fuel mileage was 25.3 mpg at an average speed of 46.7 mph, but by my calculation (and with three or four extra clicks on the regular unleaded pump), I averaged 23.9 mpg. I returned the Traverse to Chevy with the weekend’s bugs and dirt washed off, and just about all of the fur vacuumed from the interior.
2018 Chevrolet Traverse Premier Specifications
ON SALE Now PRICE $45,395/$47,930 (base/as tested) ENGINE 3.6L DOHC 24-valve V-6/310 hp @ 6,800 rpm, 266 lb-ft @ 2,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 9-speed automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 7-passenger, front-engine, FWD SUV EPA MILEAGE 18/27 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 204.3 x 78.6 x 70.7 in WHEELBASE 120.9 in WEIGHT 4,362 lb 0-60 MPH 6.9 sec (est) TOP SPEED N/A
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planbeeeee · 7 years
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Belief is Better- Life of Pi
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IT’S PI DAY! Worldwide March 14 (3/14 = 3.14 = ‘π’) is annually celebrated as Pi Day. The day is usually celebrated with a feast of pies at parties. I say, let your minds feast on this………
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Admittedly, I am 5 years late on this post but it’s been sitting in my drafts for far too long so I figured, no better time than now to break down my favorite movie of 2012: Life of Pi. 
The Life of Pi was originally a book by Yann Martel that was released in 2001. In November of 2012, the film adaptation which was directed by Ang Lee was released. It remains the only PG rated film to win Best Director in the last 30 years! No, it’s not on Netflix, so if you’re not about that Kodi life, you can rent it on Amazon video for $4. Do it! The naturally befuddled feeling after watching the ending scenes led to a satisfying quest to peel apart the layers and find its purpose.  I can truly say the journey was great, but the destination was even greater.  Join me as we breakdown: LIFE OF PI   
****************SPOILER ALERT**************** 
DO NOT GO BEYOND THIS POINT IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE FILM! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! 
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         The story WITHOUT the Tiger was TRUE!   The ending to Life of Pi begs its viewers to answer the question: “Which story was true?” After telling both the long-winded story with the Tiger and the story he gave to the Japanese officials, Pi asks the novelist in his home, “Which do you prefer?” To which the novelist replies, “The one with the tiger, that’s the better story.”  "And so it is with God,“ says Pi.  God and religion were mentioned early in the movie but for the majority of the film there was no mention, explaining in-part why the statement is so unexpected and profound. "And so it is with God.”  Essentially it means that choosing the Tiger Story means choosing God.  That God is the “better story.”  However, the question of truth still remains… Which story is TRUE? And the answer, I believe, is… IT DOESN’T MATTER!   In the original story there are a few details that are far-fetched or, as the novelist calls it, “incredible." 
"Bananas don’t float.” One Japanese official calls out a discrepancy in Pi’s tale where he claims the orangutan floats to the boat on a pile of bananas.  Pi sticks to his claim and says “Sure they do, try for yourself.” As minor a point as it is, the issue seems to be brought to light with some purpose.  Questions the validity of the story.
An island with an unlimited supply of vegetables growing from the roots of trees and meerkats covering every square inch while an acidic lake eats away at night?! Doubt it.
Finally, the elephant in the room. How can a boy actually survive with a tiger for 227 days???  (By the way, 22/7 =  ~3.14…. BOOM!)
On face value it seems like Pi is just trying to appease the Japanese officials in their quest for a story that is “believable” when he tells the story of his mother, the happy Buddhist, the cook, and himself stranded on the boat.  He seems to just be replacing the animals in the original story with people in the new story in order to suffice the officials’ inquiries. The story seems made up because of its parallels to the story we (the viewer) saw unfold, however, I believe there was truth permeating through that story.    Although I loved the film from beginning to end, the growing pains with Richard Parker seemed to drag on a bit too far. So if you have not heeded my SPOILER ALERT and are reading this without having seen the film just use the following Life of Pi Chart as a replacement for watching the “at sea” portion.  
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At a young age, Pi was searching for God.  He was introduced to Hinduism by his mother.  Then he was introduced to Christianity by a priest after going into a church to drink the Holy Water.  He was introduced to Islam after attending a prayer service.  Finally, he is introduced to atheism or agnosticism by his father who tells Pi “Religion is darkness.” Recalling his quest for truth, Pi tells the novelist that “None of us know God until someone introduces us.”  Basically, we are introduced to organized religions from external sources.  Stories of Vishnu, Muhammad, and Jesus are experiences each of them had a long time ago and are not experiences of our own.  However, these stories are passed down from generation to generation and are applied to our lives to give our lives meaning.   
Whether its Yashoda seeing the universe in the mouth of Krishna, Muhammad’s Hijra, or Jesus in the wilderness, each experience significantly affected their lives.  Their experiences pointed them towards a relative truth.  Some beliefs can be shaken and some can be strengthened through the experience.  Like the juxtaposition of Pi’s father attributing 'Western medicine’ as the cure for his polio versus Pi’s mother using religion as her cherished connection with her displaced family.  For Pi, surviving at sea is the experience that significantly shapes his new found worldview. 
This is the key: In order to fully internalize a worldview or religion we must experience it for ourselves. Like Pi’s uncle who named Pi after the Piscine Molitor swimming pool where “a single swim there changed his life.”  Experiencing the pool himself changed his life.    
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Upon landfall, Pi is seen with his face buried in the shore.  Narrating from the present day, Pi says he was starring down Richard Parker as he slowly walked away from Pi and the boat.  Before entering into the wilderness Richard Parker stopped.  At this moment Pi was hoping for a final acknowledgement of their time together. A roar or even a look-back.  But he got nothing and Richard Parker entered the expanse of the wilderness never to see Pi again.  
Just as the story was interpreted by the journalist, Richard Parker represents Pi.
This sequence is a representation of Pi’s new self leaving his old self behind. Upon entering the “wilderness of water” he found truth and no longer needed to search for meaning.
What Really Happened at Sea?
Well to put it plainly… Cannibalism.  
From Pi’s second story to the Japanese reporters we know the happy Buddhist, the cook, his mother, and he are on the boat after the shipwreck.  The happy Buddhist was wounded and put out of his misery.  Eventually, the cook, being the “resourceful” man that he was, ate the remains of the happy Buddhist.  After a few days, Pi’s mother and the cook got in a fight and the cook stabbed his mother and cast her overboard for the sharks.  All this much we know.  
Now for the presumption… In the retelling of the story Pi says that the day after the cook killed his mother, he killed the cook.  He goes on to say…and hear this out… “I did to him what he did to the sailor [happy Buddhist].” He follows with the statement, “He [the cook] was such an evil man, but worst still, he brought the evil out in me.” What the cook did to the sailor was kill him AND eat him.  That’s what Pi did to the cook.
The film sets out to establish that, along with his mother and brother, Pi is a vegetarian.  At the dinner table with his family his father takes a bite of the lamb curry and says it’s the best dish on the table and everyone else is missing out. Also, when his father gets in a fight with the cook in the mess of the ship it is because Pi’s father requested a vegetarian meal for Pi’s mother and the two sons (This is when the happy Buddhist comes over to offer his rice and gravy).  Although a minor point, Pi’s vegetarianism is highlighted to be a stark contrast against his cannibalistic behavior to emphasize his struggle to survive.  
The sustenance from the mysterious island was symbolic of the fruits of his cannibalistic acts. It was not until he encountered a human tooth (paralleling the tooth in the seaweed of his story) that he felt the guilt from what he was doing.
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If that hasn’t convinced you:
The name 'Richard Parker’ is associated with real and fictional stories of people being shipwrecked as well as individuals being cannibalized. 
In 1846, an apprentice by the name of Richard Parker was among the 21 victims of a shipwrecked Francis Spaight.
In Edgar Allen Poe’s only novel, The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, published in 1838, Richard Parker is a mutinous sailor on the ship Grampus.  After capsizing in the storm, Parker suggests he and the three other lone survivors draw lots to see which of them should be killed and preyed upon.  In a turn of events, Parker himself gets cannibalized by the others. Oh and by the way, the main character of the novel, Pym, has a dog named Tiger.
Not convinced yet, how about this…In 1884 a yacht by the name of Mignonette sank. Four people survived and drifted on a life boat. The cabin boy named…you guessed it…Richard Parker, was cannibalized by the other three.  If that wasn’t enough…the yacht made a cameo in the movie! This is a PlanBeeeee exclusive screenshot you won’t see anywhere else…
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Life of Pi is an epic tale and visual masterpiece that sets out to essentially describe Pascal’s Wager.  Pardon my oversimplification of it but here’s the basics:
God exists or God does not exist
If you believe in God and he exists then you’ll have an infinite reward and if God doesn’t exist you’ll lose very little in your life anyway.
If you DO NOT believe in God and he exists then you’ll receive infinite punishment and if God doesn’t exist you’ll have gained very little.
Therefore, it is rational to believe in God 
***DISCLAIMER*** 
The following is my interpretation of the desired message of the film, it does not represent my own personal views:
The film adaptation of Life of Pi is telling us that life sucks. Death and tragedy are some of its only guarantees. We humans need something MORE. Something to give us hope. We need a story that will be better than our reality. We need a BETTER STORY….”and so it is with God.” Belief in the story of God will improve our own quality of life since we are winning at Pascal’s Wager and betting on what is the “rational” choice. The truth behind whether God exists or which god is the right God, is irrelevant. Life of Pi says, beyond all things, BELIEF IS BETTER THAN TRUTH.
My Takeaway
Pi gets caught following his crush Anandi after their dance practice. Here’s their exchange:
“Pi Patel: None of the other dancers did that. What did you mean? The God of love is hiding in the forest. (Referencing her interpretive dance moves)
Anandi: No, that also means the Lotus flower. 
Pi Patel: Lotus flower is hiding in the forest? Why would a Lotus flower hide in the forest?”
This is an analogy of the message. The Lotus flower is tangible, it is the cannibalism story, it is the tragedies of your present circumstance. While still somewhat hard to believe why the Lotus flower is in the forest, or how Pi survived, or how YOU have been down on your luck, it’s still a smaller leap of faith than the alternative. 
That alternative is Richard Parker, the orangutan, zebra, and hyena. That alternative is a mysterious island and floating bananas. That alternative is BELIEF. It is the God of love hiding in the forest. 
The Life of Pi taught me that God is out there. We must seek God, in order to find Him. True belief has a foundation in experience. Every one will encounter a time in their life when they as the all important questions:
“Who am I?
Why am I here?
Where am I going?
What can I do to help?”
The story is yours now … The God of Love is hiding in the forest, go find Him for yourself!
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