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#some of these are cropped by the way because i like Consistency :-) the middle ones on the first and second rows are bigger in full
jillianallen14 · 8 months
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Dear Baby Bats - Goth Band Recommendations
As a middle sibling goth (I’ve been in the subculture for close to 10 years now, so not a baby bat but not an elder goth either), let me turn you on to some bands because we do not gatekeep in this house!! Also, if you want consistently good lesser-known & brand new goth band recs, go follow Awfully Sinister on TikTok and Instagram. He’s a DJ & has great recs. I've found so much music through him because it's really hard to keep up with all the new bands cropping up every year. You want to avoid the goth subreddit because they are extremely gatekeeper-y and argue over labels constantly. It’ll just confuse you, and they are not nice over there.
If you’re very new to the subculture, and you haven’t yet listened to all of Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, Christian Death, Cocteau Twins, Clan of Xymox, Joy Division, and Depeche Mode, go do so now. You'll want to know which of them you really enjoy the most because it will help you know which sub-subgenre(s) of goth you want to watch out for, and it'll tell you what to look for to find it. For example, Sisters of Mercy is the gothic rock subgenre, Christian Death is deathrock, Cocteau Twins is ethereal wave, Clan of Xymox is like the original darkwave, Joy Division is classic post-punk, etc.
I’ve bolded some of my absolute must-listen to goth bands, and I've put monthly Spotify listeners for each band so you know which ones deserve WAY more love. And in my pre-list ramblings for each OG band, I've given you some key terms to look up so you can more easily find music that's similar to what you enjoy. Okay, here we go:
If you like Bauhaus:
Bauhaus is a hard one because honestly, nobody really sounds like them, and they aren't really that closely associated with a specific sub-subgenre of goth. They have an extremely unique sound. They’re my favorite band of all time (I even have a tattoo for them, like I am devoted lol), but even I have a difficult time finding other bands that scratch their particular itch for me. These bands I’ve listed are as close as you’re gonna get imo.
Virgin Prunes (80’s band that has absolutely unhinged music in the way Bauhaus has unhinged music; one of my favorites; no one else does it like them and no one else ever will; I would actually give my left foot to see them live); 13.2k monthly listeners (this is actually physically painful to me, how is it this low!!! don't walk, RUN to go listen to them)
Alien Sex Fiend (80’s classic unhinged goth); 77k monthly listeners
Sextile (modern band that has some very Bauhaus-sounding guitar work at times); 147k listeners
The Danse Society (80’s unhinged goth; has similar experimental vibes to Bauhaus imo); 36k listeners
Sex Beat (80’s band); not even really on Spotify
Ritual Howls (modern band; I don’t know why it gives Bauhaus, but it does; one of the few modern bands that scratches that particular itch for me); 45k listeners
The Agnes Circle (modern band; one of my favorites; they have the right Bauhaus-like atmosphere for me); 52k listeners
Traitrs (I can’t explain why they remind me of Bauhaus, but they do; another one of my fave modern bands; they make me want to start levitating and doing the Ian Curtis dance in the same way Bauhaus does lol); 239k listeners
Paralisis Permanente (underrated 80’s; they have a lot in common with Bauhaus’s sound actually, def give them a try!); 54k monthly listeners
If you like Siouxsie and the Banshees:
Siouxsie is another one that's hard to pin down sound-wise because again, they don't really fit into one specific sub-subgenre, so all of these recs are just goth bands with female vocalists who have the same kind of powerful vocals that Siouxsie does.
Second Still (modern band; singer sounds a lot like Siouxsie to me at times); 69k listeners
Skeletal Family (80’s band; has the same “women in punk” vibes that Siouxsie has); 55k listeners
Xmal Deutschland (80’s band; has the same powerful vocals that Siouxsie has; makes you wanna go stupid go crazy the way the Banshees do); 73k listeners
Secret Shame (modern band w/ w woman singer; has the same rage that Siouxsie songs have to me, especially early Siouxsie); 6k listeners (let's get those numbers up, folks!!!)
Rosegarden Funeral Party (modern band w/ a woman vocalist); 57k listeners
Mephisto Walz (90s & 2000s; sounds so much like the Banshees at times); 56k listeners
If you like Depeche Mode:
For Depeche Mode enjoyers (which DM is kind of on the fringes of what’s considered “goth,” but they’re so entrenched in the subculture that I included them anyway), you’re gonna want to delve into modern goth playlists that have a lot of EBM (electronic body music) and modern goth that leans towards synthpop/synthwave. So those are the kinds of playlists you’ll want to search up for similar sounds to DM.
Nuovo Testamento (modern band; combines post-punk and pop elements in a way that’s very similar to Depeche Mode; lots of fun live, and they have a good sound); 25k listeners
Boy Harsher (modern band; relies heavily on synth; feels like it should be playing at every goth club); 558k listeners
ULTRA SUNN (modern band; singer sounds like Dave Gahan); 217k listeners (they just blew up on tiktok recently, which explains why this just skyrocketed since the last time I was on their Spotify page lol; good for them, good for them, they deserve it)
Ministry's first album, which was synthwave/synthpop before they went industrial (this is one of my all-time favorite albums)
French Police (modern band); 252k listeners
Closed Tear (modern band); 152k listeners
Night Sins (modern band); 33k listeners
Panic Priest (modern band; vocals sound decently similar to Dave Gahan & there is a lot of reliance on synth; In All Severity is a gorgeous song); 5k listeners
Fad Gadget (underrated 80’s band; I just feel like if you like DM, you’re also gonna like this band); 58k listeners
If you like The Cure:
You'll be hard-pressed to find a goth band that wasn't influenced by The Cure, so I really can't give you any key terms for what to look up lol. They also changed their sound so frequently that it entirely depends on what era of The Cure's music you're looking to find similar music for.
Vision Video (modern band; combines post-punk and pop elements like The Cure does; one of my fave modern goth bands; they are INCREDIBLE live); 52k listeners (I'm gonna need y'all to get a song or two of theirs to blow up on tiktok expeditiously lol)
Urban Heat (modern band; great live); 36k listeners
The Chameleons (80’s band; very underrated; they are also very good live); 167k listeners
House of Harm (modern band, very new; also very good live; has pop elements); 44k listeners
Deceits (modern band, another very new one); 28k listeners (it's crazy how much this number has grown the past two months because it was in the single thousands not that long ago; everyone say thank you, tiktok)
Drab Majesty (modern band; their instrumentals remind me of The Cure); 172k listeners
Double Echo (modern band; their instrumentals also remind me of The Cure); 15k listeners (let's get these numbers up!!!)
The Bolshoi (underrated 80’s band that combines new wave and goth elements in a similar way to The Cure); 114k listeners
The Essence (underrated 80s band that sounds so much like The Cure it’s actually insane, but they’ve got their own sound too; they’re like a perfect blend of all of The Cure’s different sounds); 25k monthly listeners
Miss Teen America (brand new band from NYC! They only have one single out right now, and it’s well worth listening to); 940 monthly listeners (y’all know what to do!!! Let’s get those numbers up, up, up!) link to their single: https://open.spotify.com/album/4nvdZeUVLLrMv3tEziCqm7?si=2WVS7-eYQLGR7Id3wLiKhg
If you like Clan of Xymox:
Most of these bands will be modern ones because Clan of Xymox was honestly way ahead of their time. (They are also amazing live, so go see them before they eventually call it quits!) For playlists that are full of their vibe, you’re gonna want to look up “darkwave” playlists and also some EBM. Clan of Xymox pioneered darkwave, so any darkwave band you listen to is gonna be influenced by their sound in some way or another.
Harsh Symmetry (modern, very new; very heavily relies on synth); 29k listeners
Ssleeping Desiress (modern band; instrumentals similar to Xymox); 55k listeners
Twin Tribes (probably my favorite modern goth band; they are fucking incredible, and I’m dying to see them live); 276k listeners
ACTORS (modern band; heavily relies on synth); 86k listeners
Mareux (modern; heavily relies on synth); 4.8 million listeners (this is wild!!!! everyone say thank you, tiktok)
Sixth June (modern); 23k listeners
Plastique Noir (modern); 40k listeners
Rendez Vous (modern); 160k listeners
Minuit Machine (modern); 97k listeners
If you like Christian Death:
All of these recs will be deathrock recs or goth bands that heavily leaned on punk sounds. So if CD is the OG goth band you’re most fond of, you’re gonna want to delve into deathrock playlists for similar sounds.
Asylum Party (80’s band); not on spotify
45 Grave (80’s band); 47k listeners
Voodoo Church (80’s band; probably my favorite out of this bunch; I actually like them more than Christian Death); 7k listeners (let's get these numbers up immediately!!!!)
Ausgang (80’s band); 2k listeners (WHAT; they deserve so much more, damn)
Corpus Delicti (90’s band; they are very good; they sound the least like Christian Death on this list imo); 26k listeners
13th Chime (80’s band; very underrated); 6k listeners
The Birthday Party (80’s band; very unhinged sound); 54k listeners
UK Decay (you know, I actually don’t know what era they’re from; unhinged sound); 1k listeners (omg)
Super Heroines (underrated 80’s band); 2k listeners (you see what I meant about underrated?)
Specimen (80s band; this one could have just as easily gone under Bauhaus tbh, but the vocals are generally higher pitched than Peter Murphy’s, so I put them under this category); 102k listeners
Sex Gang Children (80’s band; just so unhinged & I love them for it); 27k listeners
Suspiria (90s, I think? I don’t actually know); barely on Spotify but 27k listeners
Theatre of Hate (80s); 7k listeners
Bloody Dead and Sexy (2000s, I think); 44k listeners
If you like Cocteau Twins:
Cocteau Twins’ early sound is usually categorized as “ethereal wave” goth, so those are the playlists you’ll want to look up if you enjoy their early sound. If you like their later sound, you’re gonna want to lean more towards shoegaze for similar vibes.
Dead Can Dance (80’s band; NO one, and I mean NO ONE, was doing it like Dead Can Dance; so fun to dance to in the goth club); 332k listeners
Lycia (90’s band; their music is very transcendent); 20k listeners
Linea Aspera (modern band; gorgeous woman vocals; honestly, their music is just very beautiful); 67k listeners
This Mortal Coil (formed in the 80s; some songs feature Elizabeth Fraser & Robin Guthrie from Cocteau Twins, but even the ones that don’t still have an ethereal vibe similar to CT; Sixteen Days/Gathering Dust is just like the best song ever); 310k listeners
If you like Joy Division:
All of these bands will be ones that sound very classically post-punk, so those are the playlists to search out; emphasis on "classic" because post-punk is a very broad term that gets applied to a lot of music. I would argue that Joy Division has had the most influence out of all the OG goth bands on the current goth sound/goth renaissance we're going through right now, so there are a LOT of bands out there for you if you’re a JD fan.
Molchat Doma (modern band); 2.5 million listeners (wow lol, they've grown so much over the past two years, it's actually insane; good for them)
Soviet Soviet (modern band); 152k listeners
Fearing (modern band; very good live); 30k listeners
Ploho (modern band); 146k listeners
Pink Turns Blue (criminally underrated 80’s band; they are SO good live); 98k listeners (this is an actual travesty, this band is way too good to not even be in the hundred thousands)
The Sound (another incredibly underrated 80’s band); 119k listeners
This Cold Night (modern; has the deep vocals of Joy Division and the driving bass); 150k listeners
Bleib Modern (modern); has very similar vocals to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, which is a band listed under the Sisters of Mercy section of this post, so if you end up liking this band, you should also listen to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry & vice versa; 36k listeners
Lebanon Hanover (modern; has the existential angst that Joy Division always ignites in me); 936k listeners (this is crazy, holy shit!!!!!! go, Lebanon Hanover, go!! now if only they would tour the damn US)
She Past Away (modern; deep vocals); 226k listeners
Belgrado (modern; woman vocals!); 18k listeners (they deserve better than this!!)
Leonora Post Punk (modern; Mexican goth band w/ Spanish vocals, so support them! They’re amazing! They have those deep vocals you want when you’re looking for a similar sound to Joy Division); 56k listeners
O. Children (modern; has the deep vocals & interesting bass lines that Joy Division was known for; great band); 29k listeners
If you like Sisters of Mercy:
This is one of my least favorite goth subcategories, which is odd because I actually love Sisters. But if you’re looking for a lot of music that sounds like SoM, I’d suggest delving into the 90’s and early 2000’s goth music scene. Search out those playlists.
Rosetta Stone (90’s band); 54k listeners
Miazma (modern); 10k listeners
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry (another criminally underrated 80’s band; one of my fave goth bands); 40k listeners (THEY!! DESERVE!! BETTER!!)
Dreamtime (modern); 65 listeners (ouch lol, please go show them some love)
Fields of the Nephilim (80’s, I think; if you’re a metalhead, you’ll probably appreciate this band); 95k listeners
The Merry Thoughts (80s); 19k listeners
The March Violets (underrated 80s; might be a controversial opinion to put them under SoM, but I’m standing by it); 69k listeners
Horror Vacui (modern; it’s kind of a stretch putting them here tbh, but I couldn’t figure out what other category to put them under); 44k listeners
Also, if you want a 1500-song, 105-hour goth playlist that’s constantly growing, here you go. The name of it is a dig at my ex lol: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6jCV530pMmOEmDHj4CLNka?si=cEVKiyAwQpaieGiV2pMyqw
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artbyblastweave · 3 months
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So, the thing about Ward's worldbuilding is, it's bad on purpose. This is something I didn't catch until a relisten of the earlier parts, but the disconnect between the actual literal apocalypse that occurred two years prior and the shockingly advanced levels of infrastructure and technology is very deliberate. The entire thing is slapdash and farcical. You have people out the door of a shitty concrete hovel lining up for bad coffee. You have cars built out of random scavenged parts, "dumpsters" that Victoria can't manhandle because they're made of clumsily-welded-together scrap metal. Victoria can't reliably navigate at night because power to the city below is intermittent (and her mother Carol happens to live in one of the parts that does have consistent power; that's unexamined, make of it what you will.) The mall cluster shitshow goes down in a "mall" that, IIRC, is called out later as having been basically a dead end economically, a doomed grasp at a sense of normalcy. The patrol block uses recycled PRT gear, Dot's interlude involves the machine army jumping a bunch of bog-standard apocalypse scavengers. What you're looking at isn't a new society built up shockingly quickly; you're looking at the previously-well-supplied-and-externally-supported outpost of the recently destroyed society, and after two years they're finally chewing through the last of the head start they got. The societal equivalent of Wile. E. Coyote hanging in the air above the cliff, or of the seemingly-untouched duelist seconds away from sliding in half. Unfortunately, due to choices made about the timeframe and focus of the story, the Coyote sprouts wings. The duelist whips out a staple gun. Or to come at this from another angle- in The Walking Dead, a comic I really like, I can sort of organize the arc of the apocalypse into three-ish big chunks. For the first eight or nine months in universe, about 48 issues, things are obviously bad, right, quite a few people have died, but there's a sense among Rick and company that they might be able to ride it out, that things are on the upswing. They've got crops going, they have new births, maybe help from the government proper isn't coming the way they thought it might towards the start, but things are looking up! Then, of course, the Great Fuckening of Volume Eight occurs, and you enter the middle phase of the comic, where they're down to like a third of their group, they're food-insecure, they're constantly on the move, they're under attack from rapists and cannibals who've descended into habitual atrocity because they're totally without hope. Children are having mental breaks and killing children, the first friendly guy Rick met in the whole comic is now an insane hermit feeding dead bodies to his undead son, on and on and on and on and on. Bad times, but a comparatively short middle in the grand scheme of things. Then they find Alexandria, and the back half of the comic is spent basically on an upward trajectory with some zig-zags, there are still periodic existential threats but they're clearly past the nadir.
Ward feels like it starts midway through that first part, the you-don't-know-how-much-worse-this-can-get part, with the emphasis on the social tensions, the encroaching winter, but then it just...doesn't get much worse. I mean they have a rough three months, but then they sort of speedrun right to the hopeful future ending as soon as the titans are dealt with. There were parts that I suspect were supposed to be the dark-night-of-the-soul I'm alluding to but they didn't land as such. I feel as though the superhero genre stuff kind of subordinated the apocalypse stuff, made it less visible by virtue of whose POV we were following, and sometimes I feel that as a remedy to this, Ward should have taken place over the course of years, and it should have Just Kept Getting Worse. For example Breakthrough should have had to kill and eat Rain to survive the winter
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smolsaltypan · 10 months
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I think it would be fun if Desmond's hair changed over the course of the story. Yes yes game limitations and like, silhouette recognition of main characters stays consistent whatever. I like the headcanons where he's got sensory issues and that's why his hair is buzzed are fun but. Desmond with a close cropped military-esque haircut because it's regulation at the farm. A collarbone length hairstyle for a few years after running away both to change up his appearance and be less recognizable but also as he gets more comfortable being out of the only place he's ever known Desmond experiments in all sorts of ways. Maybe he dyes his hair some fun colors a few times when he's feeling extra cocky. A shorter almost floppy hairstyle but now more typical of what you'd expect from a more masculine person if that makes sense? With this one I think he gets really into taking care of the curls a lot of people headcanon he has. A fun short Mohawk spiked toward the middle like the soccer obsessed kids I knew in middle school would have raved over when he starts work at bad weather because everything is sticky and also he doesn't have the energy for the intense routine he had (bonus points if that routine comes from someone who forcibly adopted him right when he was getting used to freedom).
And then he gets abducted by abstergo.
Back to the buzzcut but this time it's messy, rarely touched up and even then more often than not whatever scientist is in charge of that torture then just snips clumps off to get at whatever patch of scalp they need right then.
Escape into the hands of assassins and his father who should love him yet subjects him to the same treatment as his kidnappers all for the greater good why is he never good enough what would he have to do to be good-
They take care of his hair better, but resources are limited on the run so one setting on an electric razor all across his head every time the hair gets in the way.
Desmond dying, sacrificing his life in the hopes that humanity would prevail without even the freedom to choose his own hairstyle.
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scarybabe · 8 days
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Just wanted to let you know that the white-haired Sailor Moon-esque vampire girl pose that you retweeted on twitter is actually just two AI-generated images
It's getting really hard to tell with some of these, but one of the main tells is if you look at her left ear in the first picture, there's just a weird, completely unnatural fleshy bit that sticks out from where her ear should be, with the accompanying earring being way out the middle of her hair for no discernible reason. Her design also changes fairly drastically between the two images, with her collar pattern being completely different, all of her jewelry changes (her earrings aren't even a consistent design within the context of only the second image), the blood is a completely different style, her fangs are weirdly shaped and unnaturally spaced, and she doesn't really seem to have the meatball buns in the first image (which would be a really weird thing to exclude for what appears to be the same "scene"). Even her hand in the second image is doing the typical AI thing where one object melts into another. Her fingers are highly inconsistent in length (and joint structure) and also look like they're morphing into lipstick near her mouth. Even the hand itself is overly skinny like it's trying to simultaneously act as folds for her dress, which has the added side effect of unnaturally extending the thickness of her neck (specifically the small black edges on the left side of her hand because the left side of her neck should actually end roughly in the middle of her hand, based on the first image)
This isn't the first time I've seen these "old anime aesthetic" AI images, they've been cropping up a ton lately and they look convincing enough at a glance that most people just assume it was either some old anime that they never saw or an artist's replication of that era's vibe. Normally, the inconsistencies are a lot more noticeable when the scene involves background elements like cars, buildings, trees, etc, but they're still there even in more focused images like these. Gotta be extra careful when sharing things these days because it's only going to get worse, unfortunately
I support real artists, don’t worry! I’ve personally spent hundreds of dollars on art commissions lol. It is getting frustratingly hard to tell - please don’t take offense if I do accidentally repost something that is AI because it’s never intentional.
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Hello!! Hope you are having a great day, for the Hobbit ASK questions 2, 4, 6, 11 and 14
- Jack
Thank you for the ask Jack!! Here we go. You can find the post this is base from here.
2. What tattoos (or just some of them) would Oin, Nori, Dwalin and Bofur have?
Oin would have a very dwarven styled heart on the back of both his hands. Not a love heart, more like a medical diagram. It would be a universal symbol between all dwarves to show that he is a healer and something that all healers receive when they become a master of their craft of healing. He also has the diagram of his favourite healing herbs on his left hip and a raven on his right shoulder.
Nori would have a tramp stamp that was definitely done in prison after he and a few mates got drunk and caught stealing something. It’s a crow with a shining jewel in both of its claws and its beak. Its rough and a little wonky and often seen as a drunken mistake by others, but Nori secretly loves it. He loves even more to show it off to Dori when he’s around the house because it annoys his brother to no end. Crop top shirts are a must around the house because it shows it off.
Dwalin is just covered in tattoos and most are from his great feats in battle. He has a few more casual ones like a ram on his hip, his mother’s axe and his father’s sword in a X shape, but he also has large sections of bulk writing (in Khuzdul of course) and it consists of lines from his favorite poems and stories. Things that made him feel deeply when he read them or lines that inspire him to keep pushing on through the hardships of life. They’re written quite small and you would have to practically sit in his lap to read them, but Dwalin knows every line by heart.
Bofur would have a range of intricate patterns like vines running down each side of his neck and down his shoulders. At first glance it just looks like a bunch of lines but if you look closer you can find the intricate and hidden symbols and patters hidden amongst the chaos. Bofur spent years perfecting each and every line of his tattoos and it means everything to him. It’s a display of the way music makes him feel. Its what he sees in the wood he carves before its takes shape. Its how he hears the stone of his mountains as he listens to the walls of the mines. Its something no one else would understand but he’s alright with that.
4. Bilbo finds a flower in the quest and gifts it to someone. Who does he gift it to and which flower is it.
Thorin. Bilbo knows they don’t see eye to eye and he tries to ease the tension by gifting Amaryllis (Pride) wrapped and choked with Chamomile (Patience in adversity). It was meant to symbolise that Bilbo would swallow his pride to try and easy their relationship by showing patients and good will. Thorin being a dwarf and having no understanding of flowers became so confused and flustered that it confused and flustered Bilbo and the hobbit ended up smacking him in the face with the bundle and running away.
6. Weirdest encounter Dori has had with a stranger
It was less weird and more unsettling for Dori when he met a strange dwarf at the markets one day. The stranger looked and acted so familiar yet so strange as they tried to convince him to leave the marketplace for the next hour or so he ended up doing just that and going straight back home. For weeks he told his kin about the strange dwarf he met at the markets completely unaware that it had been Nori so deeply undercover that Dori simply didn’t recognise him. Nori had been roped into a dirty scheme and knew there was going to be a hold up at the markets that day and he panicked when he spotted Dori heading straight into the middle off it, so still in disguise he raced over to persuade him to leave. Dori notes this as the strangest encounter he has ever had and Nori didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.
11. If you were to join the Company, who do you think you would get along better with?
Probably Bifur. I think we could spend hours in silence just vibeing together as he carved wood and I read a book or something. He just seems very welcoming and comforting. I think I would also have a randomly good connection with Nori? He would quickly become a big brother figure to me and teach me how to nick stuff much to Dori’s dismay. Fili, Kili and I would definitely bond with being the youngest of the lot, but more so Fili being the calmer and quieter of the two. We would also hyper fixate over weapons and spend hours taking and discussing knifes and forging. I would also be so ridiculously in love with him that I would melt at anything he did.
14. You are trapped in a Mirkwood cell after the Company has been taken, how would you annoy the guards? (Or maybe flirt with them?)
I would be so traumatised by the spiders I wouldn’t even have time to tbh. I could flirt with Tauriel but that would mostly annoy Kili and the other dwarves. Maybe I ask the guard to many questions or teach the dwarves to sing one of those obnoxious songs that get stuck in your head for days? Idk, in all honestly, I would probably cry a lot and stay wrapped in a ball still stuck on the spiders. Maybe I would annoy them by how many times they would have to come into my cage and kick me to see if I’m still breathing.  
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crystalelemental · 21 days
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Now for the polar opposite in the second game I played, Triangle Strategy. My last posts on the subject speak for themselves, but as a cohesive whole, I have a lot to say. I'm not in the habit of tagging things without being clear where it's going, so to avoid problems: I do not respect this game.
Starting with an aside: I do not tend to keep track of who made what. I generally don't know, because I don't care to know. The game is either good or bad, I'll take note of consistencies if they keep producing similar stuff that lands. In the case of Team Asano, this game finally got my attention enough to connect dots, and find out that Team Asano are responsible for the Bravely Default games, Octopath Traveler, and Triangle Strategy here. I haven't played all of them, but I have played BD1, BD2, OT1, and TS. Which, to sum up that experience: one of the worst games I've ever played, middling, middling, and one of the worst games I've ever played. I do not respect any of their output. I have officially come to know their names to avoid anything they produce in the future, because nothing they've made has stuck with me. Which is. Maybe a first. I've look at some things as far as like...I can't play Shin Megami Tensei games, I just do not like them. But Atlus games can be great, depending on what I get. This is the first time I've truly felt like an entire team has just made nothing of value to me.
There are two reasons to this, and they both apply to Triangle Strategy. First is that I think their writing quality sucks. Bravely Default 1 is an absolutely garbage story, I liked effectively nothing about it, despite the presence of Edea who should've salvaged something. Bravely Default 2 and Octopath Traveler 1 are mildly engaging while playing, but ultimately left no impact on me and despite the years that have passed, I've never once looked at them as games I would want to replay. A big component of that is story. BD2 is just cookie cutter generic, while OT is too disconnected with its cast to actually come together into anything sane. TS falls more in the BD1 category. Despite some strong scenes and lines, it has a tendency to operate on the mindset of "Why say in ten words when you can say in ten thousand?" It just. Keeps. Talking. Without offering like any new information. It tries to hold a major mystery over you regarding the mines, but if you pay even slight attention to just the main story, you've figured out what's in there before any of the characters open it, then get to spend like 12 chapters of "But how can Aesfrost stand against Hyzante without salt, all they have is the iron in the mines?" There's also a constant issue of over-sharing information in the side stories, presenting the player with information the characters wouldn't have, and ruining suspense and tension regarding decision-making.
Even by the finale, and the way it presents its endings, none of them are satisfying. I've only seen three: Freedom Ending, Utility Ending, True Ending. I couldn't do Morality, I was burnt out by that point. The Freedom Ending presents unifying everything by defeating Hyzante, and granting salt access to everyone with myriad uses, encouraging free trade and development. This ending spends most of its time telling you how awful everything because due to wealth inequality, especially pointing out that the Roselle are freed from slavery, but have no inherent wealth so most are too poverty-stricken to survive anyway. The True Ending, by contrast...does functionally the same thing. Salt is made freely available, but this time Idore and Gustadolph die and Roland remains king, and despite that being just a matter of whose butt is in what chair rather than any change in policy, the game cuts out earlier in the timeline and we're left to assume the wealth inequality issue somehow didn't crop up this time. You didn't functionally change the idea, but somehow the result is completely different for no discernible reason. Oh but don't worry. The Utility Ending where you just surrender everything to Hyzante and accept that there's a slave class being exploited for profit? That one gets a pretty happy ending of Roland reflecting that some orphans can afford to eat even though their parents and dead and internally commenting that he did the right thing. If you're wondering what kind of tone or statement they're going for, me the fuck too.
The second major issue of Team Asano broadly is that their style seems to be "Take this other concept and staple this one (1) gameplay mechanic onto it." Bravely Default is, essentially, Final Fantasy 3 or 5 with a more "serious" story. Octopath Traveler is, more or less, Final Fantasy 6's World of Ruin as far as collecting your guys and moving forward. Triangle Strategy is, from what I can tell of it, just Final Fantasy Tactics. But. Their games have Turn Conservation as a mechanic. Brave, TP, and AP, all functionally identical. Every turn you get one (1) point of turn saved up, and this can be used to unleash bigger attacks, or take more turns, or something equating to "damage number go up." Anything that manipulates this counter is immediately overpowering. This is consistent across every game, and to be blunt, I don't think it's ever worked for them. Bravely Default 2, the one I have a better memory of, can use the mechanic just fine until endgame where every single enemy counters with +1 Brave Point, and then just keeps acting infinity times unless you have perfectly crafted damage teams that render 90% of your classes irrelevant. Octopath Traveler relies hysterically on the super classes for any level of optimized effect. Triangle Strategy isn't quite as bad, but in part because there's less control. You have Julio, but his AP conferral is a much weaker effect, so instead you burn turns just waiting for it to come back.
It's just never a balanced mechanic. It wastes time, and restricts effectiveness of classes. Having replaying Final Fantasy 5 recently, it's kind of staggering to go back to it and feel like damn, a lot of those classes may not be great, but they are functional and do some fun things, even in endgame, compared to Bravely Default 2. But now I'm harping on the less critical aspect of the current game.
Triangle Strategy's pace is absolutely abhorrent. This game wants so badly to be a visual novel. There was a stretch of game, where I shit you not, I went about two hours without ever playing a map. TWO. HOURS! Of nothing but cutscenes, and useless exploration! And I do mean useless.
This is the most wasteful I have ever seen a game be with mechanics. Exploration exists solely to gather information, which can be used to sway your allies to a particular decision as you wish. Except in 50% of cases, those pieces of information don't even work. Hell, probably more than 50% of the time, the solution is picking different dialogue than the special one. So that exploration did nothing. What influences you more is how often you've deployed your ally characters, because they're more likely to listen to you. Alignment matters too, but that one's completely useless.
Alignment comes on three factors: Morality, Utility, and Freedom. Depending on dialogue choices during exploration mostly, you get bonuses to one of these alignments. The first time through, you don't get to know where values are. Things just happen, and it gives the illusion that this matters. But once you're on run two, the illusion shatters, because you know where values are and what their consequences are. For example, my values at the end of run 1 were something like 2000 Utility, 1400 Morality, and 1100 Freedom. I got the Freedom ending by just choosing that path as the sensible one. The only consequence of that being my lowest-rated attribute? It was stated that it would be slightly harder to convince people on that path. I convinced everyone first try. When I went for Utility ending, half the characters wouldn't listen to me. These factors exist for only one purpose, and that is to recruit side characters who have nothing to do with those alignments. Once you have 1500 points, and recruited all those characters, the stat is functionally worthless. It has no influence over anything. It may as well not even exist.
Even the scales are useless. Your decisions have seemingly big shifts in what's happening, but each path loops to the same destination two chapters later. There is a true route that relies on knowing one (1) piece of information from certain decisions, but it really is not significant half the time. I still can't really piece together why visiting your dad is requires for true route. Is it supposed to be Milo? That's my best guess, but fuck if I know.
By actual gameplay during maps, it is painfully slow. No map ever took me more than 15 minutes, but the whole time felt like pulling teeth. I have newfound respect for Fire Emblem. Having a player move all their characters, and spend a good stretch of time engaging in the gameplay before showing how enemies more and letting you react to it en masse, is a good flow. It gives you a sense of control, it lets you feel like you are experiencing gameplay. This turn order shit, where there are like three times as many enemies as allies and your turns are mixed in, results in you getting like three seconds of gameplay before watching enemies move around uselessly for like two minutes, because the maps are too big and nothing happens half the time because you're just in transit to each other. Add in factors like needing to set which way you're facing to avoid back attacks, and going to move only to find out that oops that elevation is slightly too high for them to climb, drags the pace into the mud. It's the least fun I've had with a strategy game.
It doesn't help that the gameplay is too granular to begin with. Elevation is a bad mechanic that takes otherwise simple maps and turns them into a complete stall-fest of getting people to just climb a bit. Anything at Twinsgate is fucking intolerable. Ranged attacks are also a fucking mess, because they bump off level geometry, and will hit your allies instead if someone is standing between you and a target. Not Roland's spear, though. They'll move for his spear, but not Anna's daggers. Which is just...so fucking stupid, and makes the simple act of moving and attacking take longer than it needs for the most frustrating reasons.
As the final gameplay complaint, it's a similar Team Asano issue to Octopath. At the very end of the true route, apropos of nothing and with no warning...you must now use every single character in the game, split across three armies. Now, keep in mind: I mentioned earlier that using your primary cast was highly reinforced. Using them means easily swaying them to your side during voting. There is no reason to ever use the side characters; they have no voice or relevance. You get one or two extra slots beyond the main 8, so you'll likely only train one or two others. The rest of the cast falls hilariously behind the level curve, and suddenly you are told that all of them mattered and you need to level up. There are grinding missions for training! They're exactly as slow as every other map! And now you need to bring all your piddly level 12 units up to 45+ so they can keep up!
I quit. This never happens. I never quit a game when I'm close to beating it. Completionism is my Gamer Sin, and I gave the fuck up. Because I can't deal with that, man. I cannot. Never again. Octopath Traveler had this exact same problem, where suddenly the backups mattered for the first time right at the end without any warning, and I spent so many hours just grinding levels to experience a shitty final boss and no significant story progression past that point. I'm not doing that again. I quit, and watched that story on youtube. And by watched, I mean half-watched, because my wife was playing a more interesting game. I could still follow everything going on. In part because the major reveal of Idore's motivations? You can figure that out no problem with one of the side books. They'll tell you early on that the previous Heirophant took ill during the war and Hyzante fell into chaos. You know exactly what happened and why Idore is acting like this, WAY before his motivation is actually revealed. It's completely unsatisfying, just like the mines.
I could complain about story minutia forever, so we're moving on to cast. The side characters are useless. The main cast is flat. They hint at personality, and can get some development on their respective routes when things have to solidify for the actual story, but prior they're all "strong convictions loosely held." Everyone is so easily swayed off their course they think is sane, that they wind up not holding to any actual values. Frederica can be swayed into handing over her people into slavery. That's how non-committed these people are to literally anything, until the point in the story where they decided divergence was happening, and we could commit.
There were two characters I kinda liked, mostly for dynamic reasons. Cordelia and Avlora. Because Cordelia is her own person, with an actual character growth arc, she's super interesting! Avlora being the super tough general who starts to question her own kingdom and vows to protect Cordelia as someone she respects because of her honorable nature, is super interesting! You get this dynamic for one (1) chapter. Cordelia either then disappears entirely or joins your team depending on your path decision, and either way is written out of the narrative. Avlora "dies" in every decision route, but comes back for the true route only for some reason but is unimportant to the story entirely. Which is. So unsurprising, but so very annoying.
I guess Benedict is the favorite who's actually present? His motivation in the Freedom route is pretty interesting, and his vaguely nefarious plot to get you into a position of power is respectable, at least to me. Moreso than Roland's bitchfit, anyway. Hughette, Geela, Anna, and Erador are functionally without character, operating as side-pieces to the major three driving the ending split. Frederica is fine, but I feel like she doesn't have as much going for her as a person. Her overcoming how she was before is pretty...immediate, in some ways. Things with Erika and Thales just kinda resolve right away on the map, with little more than a brief thought to them at the end of that chapter then moving on. There's one scene in Freedom route where Gustadolph comments on her growth, but I dunno man, there's just not enough fixation on her or her aims. Maybe the Morality Ending does more since that's her path, but I can't be asked.
The side cast is somehow worse. There are side stories! I guess the equivalent of supports in Fire Emblem. They give a little more depth to characters, or at least are supposed to. Probably says enough about quality that every time I saw them come up I groaned about having to read more. The main cast doesn't get much, but side characters, this is all they get for character. I didn't use side characters, so I can only speak to two: Cordelia and Groma, the old punch lady. I hate both of them.
In the case of Groma, it's a matter of the story having nothing to say. Story 1 is her sharing a drink with Geela, recounting the Saltiron War and her time as a general. Specifically, she attacked Hyzante and won a major strategic victory, but in so doing accidentally killed a bunch of Rosellans by burning down what turned out to be a slave encampment. Haunted by the death of so many innocents, she abandoned her station and lives with this guilt, now fully aware that there are no winners in war, and the innocent will always suffer most. ...conversations two is "Haha just kidding, none of the Roselle actually died because they all were freed during Orlaea's uprising so only bad people died then, isn't that a relief?" Like way to undo all of the significant thematic storytelling you might've done there, dude.
Cordelia's is infinitely worse, because it operates on the notion that the citizens are constantly hounding her for being a puppet queen of Aesfrost. While this could be interesting, note that Cordelia is only recruited on the Roland Path where you clean up the Royalists in Glenbrook. You know. Where they reveal that most of the citizenry was on board for Aesfrosts' social mobility plan, and seemed to like their reign, criticizing Roland for being someone who would revert the positive social change. So the citizens of Glenbrook are pro-Aesfrost when we need Roland to be torn, and anti-Aesfrost when we need Cordelia to be. The socio-political climate of Glenbrook may as well not even exist with how wishy-washy public opinion is. It's extra stupid because the bitching at Roland is over him killing Patriatte, a dude who was using his wealth and influence to extract state aid for his personal coffers, and killed two people in the streets. And it's like man, I dunno, if President Biden came out and killed a state senator in public for embezzling funds and then proclaimed everyone would be taxed fairly, I'm pretty sure that would only do positive things for his approval rating. It would get my vote, is all I'm saying.
There is one last thing I feel like needs to be said. I only knew about this game due to all the old comments and complaints about this trying to copy Three Houses. It was a huge talking point when it came out; that this was trying to ride the success of Three Houses, and copying that game's style. I don't think that's fair. This game is very distinct and similarities are mostly incidental. It is different, but if we're willing to compare them, it is worse. Three Houses has a stronger opening hook, a more colorful and engaging cast, smoother gameplay, a side cast that actually matters, a main cast with more serious convictions, and broadly just more to offer. The only real similarity they share is that they completely fall apart on a second playthrough as you realize it is not fun to progress through this visual novel's poor map design for a couple scraps of new information. Which was not the element I imagine they wanted to replicate here.
All that to say: Bad game. Would not recommend.
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erisunoaakaibu · 1 month
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Revival - Chapter 1: Neow
The Spireblight. The damned blight that has made the crops unable to grow. Any plants or trees that can grow edible parts, they were all affected by this Blight.
Or maybe that's what I thought.
Very rarely, people came to my place. And it was even rarer when they came in groups. I heard them talking about the Spireblight, how it affected agriculture, and how it made them suffer. I felt bad for them, but at the same time, I felt helpless. I am a Dryad, my life is tied to a tree, and unfortunately for me, that tree is affected by the Blight.
There goes a saying: "Some people are too kind, because they have suffered enough, and they don't want others to feel the same way as they did."
I couldn't remember where I had heard that from, but... it wasn't my motivation to come to the Spire. Or was it? I didn't know. The only thing in my mind, was that, the Blight must have something to do with this Spire, and by going to the Spire, I could possibly find a way to end this Blight, and restore my health.
I clutched the journal in my hands tightly, a journal with a torn cover and yellowed pages. I didn't remember where I got this from, but I felt like it was an important thing. So I put the journal back into the messenger bag that I carried. There was some gold in a sachet bag, a few packages of herbs and tea, and a pen.
Before I knew it, I was already in the Spire - a dangerous tower of unknown origin. Just as the name suggested, it seemed to have a spiral structure, stretching as high as the sky. The tower stood alone in the middle of nowhere, attracting brave adventurers wanting to find rare treasures. But as far as I had heard, nobody had ever returned. The pain from the Spireblight struck me again, as if my body was reminding me of my reason to be here. But why did it have to remind me in that way? I looked around the room I was in, and saw a huge, huge creature. The creature looked like a whale, with one, two, three pairs of glowing, yellow eyes. My eyes widened in fear, and I trembled, then took a step back. What was this creature, why was it here, would I have to fight this thing, and would it kill me? I was frozen in place, and didn’t know what to do.
"Be not afraid..." As if it could feel my fear, the creature murmured. From the voice, it seemed to be a female. "I mean no harm..."
"W-Who... are you?" I asked, still slightly shaking.
"I... am... Neow..." The creature said. "You are here... to end the Spireblight..."
How in the world, could she know why I was here?
I was still scared, but I felt no malice. So I nodded in response to the huge creature.
"I will bless you... a new card, a small relic, or even... more valuable things... with a price… Choose…"
…A card? I was confused. But then, something started materializing in front of me. It was a deck, consisting of 10 cards with a green and brown-tinted black border, laced with thorny patterns. There were 4 Strikes, 4 Defends, and two cards that seemed to be combat techniques that I picked up before entering the Spire, based on my nature power.
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“You combat with cards…” Neow explained. “This is… how the Spire works…” She then continued, “But this place… is still extremely dangerous. The wounds… are still real. Receive my blessing… enter… and you will know what I mean…”
I looked at the gigantic whale, then directed my gaze into my hands. I rummaged through my bag, and found nothing much worth of use. Gold might be an option to trade, but I felt like it’s not what she’s asking in return.
“But… I-I have nothing…” I looked down. I thought that would just be it, but I was wrong. Just as I thought about leaving, a strange, magical light appeared in front of me. I lifted my hand, and the light slowly transformed into something as it landed in my palms.
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…a Dream Catcher. It was made of light green strings, with three light blue feathers.
Neow slowly blinked. She didn’t say a thing afterwards, but her six glowing eyes locked onto me. I could feel her urging me to go.
I nodded to thank her for the blessing, and then began my ascent at the Spire.
Hope filled my eyes, but I didn't know what else I was hoping for, apart from putting an end to the Blight. I knew, the journey would be dangerous, but I had made up my mind.
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werezmastarbucks · 1 year
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dreams: youtube
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how many followers do you think he got?
word count: 999
warnings: none
music: can't pin me down by marina
kai parker x reader
dreams masterlist
You hit play, and the face of the weird... influencer? appears on screen. You have this vague idea that you were going to watch something else. But your 'watch later' playlist now consists of three hundred videos, and the electronic noise of non-stop brainless entertainment makes you dizzy and zombie-like. You have a strong urge to log off, close the laptop and look out the window, but this guy's face glues you to the screen. For some reason seeing him in this format in 4K feels insidious, like he's a danger not only to you but also to others. Whoever watches. Like he's somehow connected to snuff... your brain, decomposing from all of the internet commotion, tired with endless sounds and buzzwords, feels physically tired. You rub your face. He is just like the others, has a Youtube channel where he babbles away about his business which nobody asked for. Another attention seeker, full of himself in the idea that people will stick and reflect on his miserable life.
He looks like a pop corn American movie embodied. White shiny teeth, glistening eyes, tiny dimples on his cheeks. A shirt you're sure you saw in Crop recently. Everything a teenage girl needs. Apalled, you contemplate how many of his followers actually have a crush on him just because he represents their Youtube dream. Neat, smily, white guy who gives you an idea that the world exists in a shiny rectangle.
You're immersed in your thoughts until your ear catches something off - that meaning, something actually interesting. His voice buzzes with excitement.
"The last time I told you about hell. But you asked me about, like, whether I have normal - real - stories. Well, I do, and I can even tell you about some of my art. Actually, I do it all the time. You know, I write songs in my dreams all the time", he fidgets in his place like a kid. He can't sit straight and is constantly moving his torso, his hands, as of hypnotizing you. He looks like he watches himself on the screen with one eye, and acts very well, actually. Not the most typical narcissistic type, but the well hidden one. He sure admires himself, but looks cool doing it. You start questioning yourself whether fifteen minutes of this bullshit will make you crush on him just a little.
"Yeah, and it's always something, you know... like I would call it cosmic confusion. So you know how there's cosmic horror? That, but confusion. I get these very soft, ambient melodies, which I don't like very much by the way, but my girlfriend does".
Gasp. Followers lost. You never say you have a partner if you have that kind of smile that holds your whole channel together.
"And the lyrics are like puzzles that I can't seem to gather together. It's been going on for years. What if I'm dreaming a whole discography that's a mysterious code at the same time? And of course when I wake up I completely forget, like, ninety percet of that. Only remnants, but they qickly escape my head. But!" he yells out, making you jump a little, "recently I got this huge idea... I started recording myself on my phone so that if I ever meet a very cool musician, I can play it to them, and they will write the music for me, and I'll... anyway, listen to this".
He takes out his phone and reaches the microphone. The space of the audibe field is filled with his sleepy voice, singing some gibberish, missing every possible note as if on purpose. You instinctively switch off, drowning in memories. Actually, that happened to you too. You dreamt of a black room with a yellow chair in the middle that played music. It was... surprisingly like... what's his name... you look at the name of the channel again - CovenMaster - Jesus - said. Cosmic confusion, like you're lost, but you're not scared because the dimension you got stuck in is too eerie for human brain.
And the only line that was in this song that you remembered to this day was,
When's the boy coming back?
You look back at him, and now he doesn't seem Disney foolish. He looks straight at you from your screen, listening to the end of his ugly song.
"There", he says quietly, "now you know I'm a genius. You can't match me". There's a flicker of well-masked humor in this, like you're supposed to be in on the joke.
"And most importantly, you can't pin me down. I go up every time, don't I?"
Against all reason, you nod, like somebody is standing behind you and has a hand on your head.
"The dark abyss of oblivion, the hell, nothing can hold me for long".
There's silence.
"And?" you ask out loud.
"Oh, it's another one, the other song I didn't record. Jeez, I should really head to SoundCloud", he mumbles. In a second his face lights up, and everything is the same again.
"Anyway, today I wanted to tell you about how I invented a new type of slime! I heard kids were crazy about it!"
You sigh and reach out to close your laptop. Not just click away from the page, but close it completely, to not see any flat screen.
"Wait! Okay, okay", he snaps suddenly. You freeze in front of him.
"Don't go just now, I gotta tell you something", CovenMaster has his palm outstretched and looks straight at you.
You keep silent, he does, too, for a couple of seconds. The shivers run down your shoulders and arms.
"This video is sponsored by Cheetos", he smiles widely, like a prankster. You groan and slap your laptop closed, with such force that you feel sorry immediately, fearing for the screen.
You get up and go to your window to look out the street. A typical nice neighborhood in Ohio, who wouldn't want to live here? The houses around are so familiar, the cars of neighbors roll patiently down the road. Muffled music playing somewhere a house away.
Everything is perfect, and you're glad. But the question still remains,
When's the boy coming back?
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horizon-verizon · 1 year
Text
Found this on a vampire enthusiast blog:
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The Obayifo is a possessed human of vampire/witch likeness that walks around causing mayhem by destroying crops, withering fruit by sucking out the juices, and sucking the blood of people, especially children. They travel as a ball of light or lightning, again killing crops and food; or, when they travel at night, light beams out of their mouth, armpits, and anus -- phosphorescence. In this way, the creature is very similar to the adze, which shape shits into a firefly, goes through the doors/windows to enter the home and suck their victims -- usually kids again -- dry. The Obayifo is one from Ashanti folklore and pre-Christianity, and it is still believed in some form today.
Back to the blog post, I would say this is a good example of people thinking they are looking at a nonEuropean, pre-Christian phenomenon critically and then going, "Well, it's not like [familiar Euro phenomenon], so there is no relation and it is actually just a really boring or mundane concept that is not as CoMpLeX as [familiar Euro phenomenon]".
First, the European vampire is not immune to a history of accusation and fear in the human community. Evidence #1, #2. In fact, we can say that the phenomenon of monstrousness itself and all folklore about monsters has their histories and roots in people using those tales to accuse others or just persuading themselves of a real evil in thise who are just different in appearance or temperament.
That does not mean that monsters are only hints at neighbors betraying each other, however, as we also reason to see how the Akan sasabonsom creature comes from traditions of ecological conservation...before Christian missionaries modified the creature into a wholly negative Devil form for their own purposes of cultural dominance. The European vampire itself comes from a fear of one's neighbors coming back from he dead and victimizing the community. Why would one think that the European vampire wasn't a "great excuse to point fingers and cast blame for life's calamities" as well?
Yet sometimes you will see and hear things like this, where the material gets turned into a thing where it's only about people hurting each other and the culture where it comes from is unique or the bad quality is local.
Second, where was the challenge of the European vampire having its origins from the Obayifo coming from? Why so specific, and why the defensiveness? As of now, I think of how some people do not like when reminded that all humans are descended from the first bipeds, which came from the African continent. But this is pre human history AND it indicates a dislike with the idea of being connected in any way to Africa or it's cultures.
Thirdly, the European vampire as modern audiences know it primarily comes from the film adaptations of another literary adaptation of various Southeastern EU folklore about bloodsucking creatures and the legend of one warrior: the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker. (However, even that novel came after Jospeh Sheridan's 1872 novel Carmilla, a novel about a female, sapphic vampire). The Britannica Encyclopedia says:
Because there is a long history of walking corpses and bloodsucking ghouls in folklore, it is difficult to pin down a distinct set of characteristics consistently attributed only to vampires. Central to vampire myth, however, is the consumption of human blood or other essence (such as bodily fluids or psychic energy), followed closely by the possession of sharp teeth or fangs with which to facilitate this task.
And before any of these tales, there are examples of the ancient Greek Lamia or the Jewish Estrie, where beautiful women suck the blood of children and/or Jewish people, even rape men. But these tales could also have their inspiration from Lilith -- prime female, traditional Middle Eastern/Hebrew figure of demonic being -- that would have been transported through Christianity to those Slavic communities. Is Lilith not as like the Akan Obayifo, a sorcerer who is told to cause chaos and target children?
Instead of trying to negatively differentiate and deny the creativity of the African creature and constantly looking for inferior qualities in it, what if we analyzed the myth or folklore on its own merit?
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melatonindepicts · 1 year
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hihi
Could you do like what Ulquiorra would be in like in the real world?
ty
So I'm not exactly too sure what you mean by 'Real World', but I'm going to go ahead and assume you mean the world of the living. I'll do what he wears, routine, job, food, friend-life, love-life, hobbies etc. If that's not what you were looking for, by all means message
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𝑼𝒍𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒂 𝑪𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒓
Characters and art belong to our love and savior Tite Kubo!
This is a SFW piece 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑: I take recommendations for stories, little oneshots, etc. For free!! I will do a list of characters I will do and will not do. Feel free to ask!
𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐:
He doesn't really have a strong taste for clothing, rather he just prefers to stick to his original Arrancar kimono, and if he's not able to wear that or is told not too, he wears simple black jeans, white sweater, crop-top jacket, and a scarf. He simply goes to sleep in sweatpants and no shirt.
𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎:
Literally boring as heck. Wake up, (over the months he'll get slower to get out of bed as he gets used to the world of the living), get dressed, eat some bland food (plain oatmeal, plain eggs, protein bar) and go do whatever he needs to do today.
𝙹𝚘𝚋:
Librarian, that's one of the only few jobs I can actually see Ulquiorra not despising. Quiet, plenty of books, little people, no talking. He'd work late hours probably, since he prefers the night and there's less people.
𝙵𝚘𝚘𝚍:
Plain food, anything that simply get's protein and vitamins in his body. He would eventually find his way to work-out foods that simply just get you running for the day. The day he found out coffee everything changed for the dear bat Espada.
𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎:
He doesn't have any friends that he actually considers friends. He's extremely anti-social and only talks to the other Espada that came to the world of the living, and those people he talks to consists of.. Harribel. No love going on there, just the fact that she's the only other mature one.
He doesn't have any friends that he wants to hang out with, mostly just desperate fangirls and suck-ups. All one-sided.
𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎:
Hah. Hah. Funny joke.
ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ… ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴᴛ' ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ…
𝙷𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚜:
Reading, maybe a bit of lone gaming, some art, and he'd try to learn some calm guitar. He's prefer to read love stories (to try to learn how the hell it works), and maybe some fictional theories. Gaming he does simple single-player games, nothing social/special. He would want to learn guitar to play some songs that he heard on some games he plays. He'd mostly do abstract art, and eventually gain some attention from the community on accident after deciding to post some of his art.
𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎:
As much as he wished he lived far in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, due to his job he has to live in a town. Most of the Espada moved to the city, yet he stuck to a small apartment in the middle of the town, and has to walk to work every day. It's a snug little apartment, nothing too expensive because his job doesn't pay him gold.
𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈~ 𝑫𝒓𝒐𝒑 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈? <𝟑
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vincentspork · 1 year
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So, last night I downloaded a bunch of DS rhythm games - mostly ones that had previously fallen under my radar. The issue with the DS' library in particular is that there was just. A lot of shovelware unceremoniously dumped onto it, so while there are a lot of worthwhile games on it a wide range of genres, finding actually, like….y'know…good stuff takes considerable digging. Thankfully, I like digging in the ground for tubers I mean good games
One of the titles I downloaded - and one that I posted about a little bit last night - was Monster Band (released as Music Monstars in Europe). It's an Elite Beat Agents-like, in that you have to hit shrinking targets in time to the music. While the gameplay itself isn't really a whole lot to write home about, the graphics are simple and fun (reminding me more than a little of Gabrielle's Ghostly Groove on the 3DS), and the licensed soundtrack, as stated previously, is fucking bananas. If it had been in production a few years later it would have one hundred percent had an endearingly shitty MIDI of Shakira's Loba in its roster.
Something about this game made it feel like a DSiWare title - it's short, it's simple, but it's so so weird. I think it's definitely worth checking out, if for nothing else than the pure novelty of some of the choice choons in it. It also includes a tool to let you mess around with the digital instruments that the game itself uses for its soundtrack, so that's pretty neat - I'm sure someone more musically-inclined than I could get a lot of use from that; I personally just smashed out the riff of Megalovania on the organ preset and called it a day.
Strangely, Europe got a pretty tonally-appropriate cover, while America got box art that was no doubt intended to confuse parents who kept getting harangued by their kids about the newest Rock Band game:
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The other game I tested out…is…something called Dance: It's Your Stage! Apparently this was a multi-platform release, and while the Wii/PS3/XB3 versions are DDR clones (with the WORST arrow layouts I've ever seen in a game of its ilk. Yippee!!!!!!!!), the DS version is…also an Elite Beat Agents clone, except where Music Monstars was a lesser EBA clone for its lack of variety in its gameplay, this is a lesser EBA clone because it's simply not very good in any capacity, specifically not offering any of the feedback that EBA showcases.
Elite Beat Agents' marble mechanic, where you roll a ball from one marker to another at a consistent tempo so it "lands" in time with the music is by no means my favorite part of the game, but it does work in that game. Each note also plays a sound to let you know that you've hit it on time, but Dance: It's Your Stage has none of this auditory signaling, the marble mechanic confusingly never plays back at a speed that seems to fit the track (which is notable for how often it crops up in the charts), and….ough, the soundtrack.
I kind of knew instinctively that it was royalty-free music. There's nothing wrong with stock music - it's something that a human, somewhere, made. It's admirable. Royalty-free music, by design, however, is kind of made to slot in into the background without calling attention to itself, so it's an extremely odd choice for a rhythm game - none of the tracks are enough to really grab you, and all of the music is around the same middling BPM, so it's hard to convince yourself that there's really anything in the way of diversity in the audio.
Oh wait hold up. Live update while I'm typing this: this game was apparently a tie-in to a reality show that got cancelled after one season for low ratings. That makes sense. Uhh, I dunno, play Ontamarama instead of this. Ontamarama unironically rules.
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Backdoor Deal With the Devil: Part 4: Awakening
Calum meets Eve in a bar. And it would be a normal story. However, Eve’s more than he bargained for, and so, the story’s never so simple.
Black!OC.
CW: 18+ content (Smut); descriptions of Overall series contains: Christian religious themes, mentions of death, and smut (18+ only).
Word Count: 24K+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Enjoy my masterlist
__________________________________________________
Eve leans against the door of her storage unit. The keys are clipped to her belt loop for the moment, providing a soft clicking sound with her movement. She’d gotten the unit after she and Calum divorced. Well, she moved units after the divorce. The place she was using before was hiking the rates up every three months and she kept paying it because she could feasibly do so. It irked her nerves how much they were going up though. When she and Calum divorced, Eve packed up her belongings and moved units. Now this place has oddly become a second home for her. She can transport between realms easily out here, considering this place is on the outskirts of the city. She was far enough out that if a tuft of smoke here or there cropped up, it didn’t matter to the folks around. Eve does have other options and she knows this. But she prefers solitude. 
Now, an out of the way storage unit which freezes in the night is Eve’s homebase. When she’s not with Calum or his kids, she’s here. It’s secure enough and Eve’s not really worried about her own safety too much. She did her work when everyone else was asleep and then managed to use a gym to shower as needed. When Calum called for her, asked her to come and meet his family, she thought it would be short term. Perhaps, he was calling just for some sort of resolve. She worried that maybe he’d gotten sick in addition to Kelsie’s death. But that guess had been wrong. So far, she’d been Earth side consistently for about five months in total. This feels like she’s pushing into something distinctly not short term. She was now needing to consider if she should consider other alternative options to her belongings. Eve didn’t feel like investing in a place to rent. By the time she went through the whole ordeal, she might need to give it all up. She wasn’t going to assume she could move in with Calum. Nor was she going to be the one to ask either. 
And right as she slid down the door on her unit, preparing for her nightly shift in Hell, mostly patrols and checking in on happenings since her last descent, her phone buzzed. What are you doing tonight?
It’s from Calum and Eve tries to bite back her grin as her fingers work over the keyboard. Normal duties that I know of. Did something happen?
She waits, fingers brushing over her keys. The thread sits idle for a beat longer and then Calum’s name pops up on her screen. Eve answers the call without hesitation. “Nothing happened,” he laughs. “Why do you think something’s always happened?”
“I worry,” Eve returns. It’s a simple answer and it’s the truth. Eve does worry. She worries it’s one of the kids. She worries it’s Calum. She worries that even though she keeps thinking her time with Calum will be brief yet again and so far it was proving otherwise she would be right to worry in the end. Why stop worrying now?
“Well, let me be the first to tell you, there’s no reason to worry. I ask because I’d like to take you out tonight on a date. I know it’s very last minute. But can Hell wait one night?”
“My job comes with no guarantees,” Eve laughs, resting her head into the cool metal she’s leaning into. “But I can meet you at your place in, say, an hour. What are the festivities?”
“I can pick you up,” Calum offers. 
Eve snorts. “Calum, all my stuff is in a storage unit almost an hour of the city driving.”
“A storage unit?” The disbelief that paints Calum’s voice is thick. “Why so far?”
“Discretion. Can’t travel between realms with smoke all the time at the place in the middle of a shopping center, can I?” Peace is what Eve doesn’t say. She had a place she could use. It was in the city. Less discretion for sure, but mostly notably it was severely less peaceful. 
“You had an apartment before though.”
“Those are expensive. I’ve done a lot of odd jobs in my time and have more money than I know what to do with, but it doesn’t mean I have to spend it unnecessarily.”
“Where do you shower? Brush your teeth? Charge your phone?”
“Lately, your place.” Calum snorts at the tease and Eve continues on, “When I’m not with you, there’s a gym up the road here.”
“Is-is that working for you? You’re safe right?”
Eve takes in buzzing lights and the echoing hallways of the building around her. She only has clothes, some photos, and her lockbox stashed away. Most of her long standing money from her previous jobs and decades were spread across three different banking branches under various aliases. She could keep turning the assets over to herself every few decades as the granddaughter or daughter of whomever supposedly oversaw the estate previously. It wasn’t hard, though it did take some creativity and perfect timing. 
The only time Eve felt unsafe was when the guy who was escorting her to the unit on the first day she showed up kept checking out her tits. But a perfectly placed foot to trip him up and a bloody nose as Eve hissed above him easily rectified the behavior. He hides in the office when Eve comes in to pay for her unit in cash. 
“I’m safe,” Eve finally answers. “So, a date? What is the occasion?”
“Nothing major. There’s a sushi place about twenty minutes from me.”
“Sushi sounds nice.”
“There’s an ice-cream shop next door too. If you want to go there as well. Feel free to pack a bag of what you need and then you can get ready here instead of going to the gym to use their bathroom.”
Eve turns, back fully resting against the metal door. “Are you flirting with me, sir?”
“Oh, love, I have been flirting with you for ages now. What took you so long to notice?” A gag comes from the background and Eve laughs at the sound of Māra’s voice begging to be spared. “Grow up!” Calum giggles, clearly speaking to Māra. “I don’t gag when you talk boys.”
“I’d never stoop so low as to actually flirt with a guy in front of my own father,” Māra huffs.  “That is where we differ.”
“And which one of us decided to snuggle up next to dear old Dad while he was on the phone, hmm?”
“What?” Māra questions. “I needed snuggles.”
“Everything alright?” Calum’s voice dips. Eve hears how much sincerity is weaved into each word. It's a concern that drives the pause in her and Calum’s conservation so Māra can be tended to and Eve stays silent. She does almost want to offer that Calum can call her back if he needs and that they can raincheck the date. 
“Stupid stuff at school. We can talk later too.”
“Eve, let me call you back. Or we can talk when you show up,” Calum adds the last part and it’s soft. Perhaps, he’s worried Eve will default to stepping aside. 
“How much do you want that dinner date?” Eve asks. 
“How much do you want it?” Calum returns. He’d always want time with her. But Eve knows juggling his responsibilities as a parent were now more pressing than anything else. 
“I can come over. Let Māra know I said hi and that if she needs me, I’m good at avoiding cops.”
Calum laughs. “No, you’re good at egging them on. But I’ll see you when you get here. I think the boys are downstairs. They can let you in.”
“See you then,” Eve whispers and then gives her goodbyes. She slides the door back up, grabbing her gym bag, which is usually always ready to go. Eve digs out a spare pair of jeans and another top--something nicer than her normal. A black bustier top with mesh sleeves. Once she’s satisfied with the clothes for the outing, she double checks for all her necessities. It’s only been a few minutes but as she zips up the bag, she wonders if their outing will make press circuits. 
It’ll have been thirty years since the last time they were spotted out in public by paparazzi. Maybe given the years things would’ve died down for the band. They hadn’t toured in a while from what Eve had gathered--it’d been at least ten years since the last one. Instead they were all focusing on their families. Their last album had only been released two years ago. But their public presence seems to have died down. A lot of them had garnered a lot of respect in producing--Michael and Calum diving in a lot on that front. Ashton worked to collaborate with a lot of artists. Luke worked on some solo music between band albums.  It seemed that the band had its front, but all the members still had space to be something greater than the summation too. 
Eve can’t shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach. If someone does spot them, is this going to open a bigger can of worms? Is this going to undo them?
But there’s something under the worry. As Eve slings the bag over her shoulder and steps back out of her unit, she’s happy. Even if the storm of comments comes their way, at least she has Calum. Eve slides the door to her unit close and locks it back up before walking towards the back doors. She sets off towards the fields and when she gets about twenty yards out, she lets herself go, feels the pull at her bones and she doesn’t fight it until she’s at the bottom of the street to Calum’s house. 
It’s up on a hill and if it weren’t for all Eve’s years of training and her incessant desire to protect herself by any means necessary, she is sure the hill would kill her. It flattens out nicely near the top, but the incline is a gradual pain. It only really hits how high up his place is once the top is reached. There’s a burn in Eve’s thighs that she’s used to as she raps on the front door. “Coming!” she catches on the other side of the door. 
The front door opens to reveal Kiri. “Hey, Eve,” he grins, stepping aside to let her in.
“Hi, Kiri. How are you? Calculus still giving you trouble?”
Kiri snorts. “Semester ends in two weeks and I for one cannot wait to burn the textbook. But it’s going. How are you?”
“Good,” Eve nods. “I can supply kindling if needed,” she teases. 
“Could we try banishing it?”
“We can try,” Eve laughs. Kiri offers her a drink but Eve politely declines. “I think Dad’s in the guestroom. Or his room now it seems.” 
“Hi Eve!” Cailean pokes his head out from the dining area, hand raising in a wave. 
“Hi Cailean. How are you?” Eve shuffles a little deeper into the house, approaching Cailean from behind. She’s careful not to startle him, thankful her keys are still clicking on her belt loop. 
“Crushing it,” he grins. “You? Oh, a spendin’ the night bag? What has dear old Dad convinced you of this time?”
It only takes a quirk of her brow and a blank bored expression for Cailean to apologize. As well as he’d been raised, he always had the jokester streak in him. It had earned him quite a few of Eve’s famous stares. Where his father and his mother both had a pursed lip and stare, Eve’s whole face fell. It caused the rise of her brow to stand out more and pushed her lips into a pout. Cailean didn’t really want to see what would be earned after such a warning if he didn’t backtrack. So the apologies always come immediately. 
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were gunning for trouble,” Eve returns, peering down at the human anatomy book in front of Cailean. 
“Would you believe me if I said you're one of the first people I could make those jokes too without fear of immediate death?” Cailean laughs, capping his highlighter. 
“I mean, I could be tempted.”
He shakes his head with a grin. “I don’t think I need to tempt that fate. But I’m just--I’m glad to see Dad getting back out there. It’s certainly been a strange time since Mom died so suddenly. I think mostly I just didn’t want him to get so focused on us he forgot about himself.”
Eve doesn’t want to state the obvious. Calum had reached out to her with only a few months shy of the year mark. There hadn’t been enough time for Calum to lose himself. But she imagines given just how involved Calum is with his kids the fear Cailean has is that the involvement becomes suffocation. 
“I’ll do my best to keep him out of you all’s hair,” Eve grins, resting a bit into the wall behind her. It’s the wall that separates part of the kitchen from the dining area. Behind her head and to the left she knows there’s a photo of Kelsie and the kids from a Christmas party just three years prior. Eve wonders briefly if they still have the sweaters from the photo.
“You’re doing a perfect job and letting him still be our dad and also keeping him from driving us crazy,” Cailean snorts. 
“You still haven’t said if anything is on your birthday list,” Eve counters. Cailean’s birthday would be approaching two weeks and some change after Christmas. Calum already had the gift Cailean had been eying already for Christmas but was still stumped about his birthday. She’d been asked by Calum to see if she could get anything more specific about him. But she is curious too. Now that her presence was more normal, she didn’t want to just be seen as Calum’s new old partner. Eve respects the family unit that comes with Calum. She respects who the children are as individuals too. “I mean, you’re driving now. You can’t tell me you don’t want anything.”
Cailean shakes his head. “Still a bit shy of a legal first tattoo so, guess we’ll have to wait.”
“Tattoo is easy. Can do that in my sleep. In the meantime, no shiny new rims? Cool leather jacket?” Cailean’s car was by no means fancy. It was a 10 year old Honda. Still new enough that it only had about 89,000 miles on it when it was bought but still old enough that it didn’t cost Calum an arm and a leg to get it. 
“If I’m honest, Eve, I don’t really care for that stuff. Just want time with my family, I guess.”
“Kelsie and Calum have raised you too well.” Eve pushes off the wall, one hand gently brushing over Cailean’s shoulder. “Pick a restaurant. Wherever you want. My treat.”
“Oh, Eve, I can’t,” he starts, scooting now so he’s facing her from the seated position he’s in in the chair. The head shake no is insistent. 
“None of that. Pick a restaurant. Wherever you want to go. It’s my treat. My birthday gift to you.”
“Does this mean you’ll come?” Cailean asks. 
Eve tilts her head a little, trying to assess what the gaze means, if she actually heard something like hope in the question. “Do you want me to join?”
“I thought you were the Devil, not a vampire who needed permission all the time. Yes, I’d like you to come.” 
It’s a jab Eve should’ve seen coming, but still Cailean’s quip makes her snort, choking just a little on the laugh. “I never want to assume,” she returns, catching her breath. “But by god, you do sound like Calum’s twin.”
“Apparently, Kelsie and I have raised them too well,” Calum states. He stands right at the edge of the living room that feeds into the dining area. He folds his arms across his chest and Eve makes a point not to look below his eyes. Undoubtedly, Calum’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. Even if he wore a shirt over the undershirt or just wore the undershirt, it would pull tight across his chest and the last thing Eve needed was the sight of Calum’s chest and biceps burned into her retinas in front of his children. He hadn’t let the workouts go. Though it is clear where age made him soft ever so slightly around his stomach, the gym kept his chest and arms in great shape. 
“Consider it a compliment,” Eve returns, crossing the room to stand in front of Calum. 
Calum takes Eve in for a moment. Her usual uniform of jeans and t-shirt were replaced with leggings and a looser blouse. It’s clear she was ready to head back down when he called. But he tries not to stare too long at the V in the shirt, the way her cleavage presses up into the cotton of the shirt. “Consider it taken as one. Did you still need to get ready before we head out? Or have my sons cornered you for good?”
Eves shakes her head with a grin. “I am never cornered. I’ll be ready in fifteen.” The kiss is soft that they share, chaste in how lightly their lips touch. Eve slips down the hallway to the guestroom, knocking before she peers her head inside. Where she might’ve anticipated Māra to still be stretched across the bed, the room is empty. 
Just as Eve’s stepping out from the quick shower, she can hear the click and drag of hangers from the closet. Calum, she assumes. It’s not much effort to get into the jeans but she does crack open the bathroom door, head peering out to the sight of Calum slipping his arms into a navy blue button up. “Cal, can you help me with the zipper?”
He freezes for a moment. Not because he’s upset. But because Eve had not called him anything other than his full name since she returned. “What did you call me?” He grins, turning to face her. 
“If you’re not going to behave, I will leave.” 
He crosses the distance to her, slipping his last arm through the sleeve. “It’s just good to hear from you. Missed it.” 
It’s only a whisper from Calum’s lips. But Eve hears it. Calum takes her hips into his hands and turns her around. Eve goes, one hand still holding the bustier to her body. “I hope you haven’t missed much,” Eve returns. The mirror above the sink reflects all of her face and just part of Calum’s profile. But she watches him in the mirror. The zipper catches and drags upwards, securing the top to her body. 
“It’s taken me slowing down each day to really know what I’ve missed. You’re among the list of things and people.”
“Oh, I’m no people,” Eve laughs. 
“But you’ve still been missed.” Calum kisses her temple, hands slipping over her bare shoulders and then around her neck. His arms follow the extended path of her chest and shoulder. Eve falls back into his chest. He traces the line of her face, down to her jaw, in kisses. 
“My tits too,” she snorts, referring to his earlier gaze. 
“You wore the V-neck,” Calum laughs. “You expect me not to look at your tits when they’re begging for attention.”
“They are most certainly not begging for anything!”
“I certainly beg to differ.” Calum presses another kiss to her cheek before pulling himself up to his full height. Calum guides Eve deeper into the bathroom, and turns so they’re both facing the mirror. “Anything else you need help with?”
“No, I think I’m okay. Just need to get shoes on.”
“Avoiding lipstick and mascara is probably a good idea.” The words come from deep in Calum’s chest and Eve watches his gaze drop from the mirror to her in front of him. 
“There you go again, misbehaving,” Eve reprimands, but pushes her hips back just a little into Calum’s crotch. It doesn’t shock her when she realizes he’s half hard. “But I’ve decided not to invest in too much makeup, in all honesty. Need the bags under my eyes to keep up with you.”
Calum snorts, fingers teasing at the exposed sides underneath Eve’s top. She pushes deeper into the arch. Not quite bent over the counter, but holding her weight up by her arms into it. “Yeah, what are you doing with an old fart like me anyway?”
“What can I say? I like them older.”
Calum finds the front of Eve’s chest, palms flat against the press of the bustier against her breasts and hauls her up. Her back flush into his chest. She drops her head to the side a little and Calum leans in, lips brushing ever so gently at the skin of her jaw. “Yeah, I’m the one robbing the cradle here. But you’re the one misbehaving now,” he whispers. 
Eve shrugs, tracing the veins in Calum’s hands with the tips of her nails. “Sue me.”
Calum’s laughter is soft, an exhale mostly from his nose. His lips paint another kiss to her skin. “While you may not need food to survive, I, for one, am hungry. But I won’t forget your behavior, kitten.”
“Let’s go before you starve,” Eve returns, turning to kiss Calum’s cheek too. She does specifically let the new nickname which has never come up between them before go. Maybe it would grow on her. Maybe it’s an honest mistake and Eve’s not about to make it more awkward. “First, do you want help with that?” she questions, hand slipping up between their bodies to cup Calum’s erection. 
“No, because you help me with that we will never make it to dinner.”
Eve concedes, but not without a slight squeeze and then peels herself out of Claum’s hold. Calum shakes his head at the taunt, but flicks off the light. Originally thinking of buttoning the shirt up, he opts to leave it fully undone but tucks his undershirt into the tops of his jeans. Eve follows behind Calum back to the front of the house. One of his hands is wrapped around hers, the other grabs the keys from the rack near the front door. 
“Oh, that’s cute!” The words are accompanied by a soft tap on Eve’s arm. 
Eve turns to Māra’s compliment and smiles. “Thank you.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Oh, it’s been years since I bought it, I think. But I think there’s a place in the mall that has something similar. I noticed it when I went to get new boots.”
“Dad would have a heart attack.”
“You’re fourteen. Of course I would have a heart attack,” Calum interjects. 
“My birthday is in three months. You let me buy the platforms!”
“Mar, those were shoes. The soles are as thick as my waist. Shoes and tops are different battles.” Calum’s stare is pointed. It’s as if he’s begging Māra to disagree with him. 
Māra sighs, passing a gaze to Eve. “See what I mean.”
Eve’s not sure if she should side with Calum or try to win with Māra. Because while the top isn’t at all scandalous, it does expose all of Eve’s shoulders, the upper part of her back, and it has cut-out on the sides. It covers the important bites, but it might be a bit much for someone young. “There’s also other cute stuff at the store,” Eve settles on. “The sort of things that won’t give your dad a heart attack. Do you like blazers? They had a cute red one, studded collar, sleeveless. Full length,” Eve tacks on, looking up to Calum. He squeezes her hands in thanks. 
“This weekend, we could go? Only if you want of course.” Eve offers to Māra. 
Māra looks over to Calum. “Can I?”
“If I’m not there, I need pictures. We are not doing any surprises,” he counters. 
“I mean at that point, just come,” Māra laughs. 
“Well, I,” Calum starts. It would be one of the first times that Māra had initiated more than a conversation with Eve. It would be a full on excursion. It would give them time to bond. He doesn’t want to intrude on that. 
Eve squeezes his hand, effectively cutting him off. “If Kiri or Cailean have to call me because they had to give you CPR, I don’t think I could take it. Just come.”
Calum nods. “Saturday? Your teeth cleaning is on Friday, tomorrow” he states to Māra. 
“You’re the one driving me,” Māra laughs. 
Calum sighs. “No, I mean I’m not sure if going tomorrow is a good idea because you get grumpy after the dentist.” Māra hadn’t loved the dentist since she had to get a filling back in elementary. She complained about the ache in her jaw for a week and has since made it a personal mission to never have another cavity again. If Māra’s given anything other than a nearly perfect visit, she pouts. Even still. Calum had to learn all the tricks to keep her happy--that do not include offering her anything sugar related. 
Māra bats her eyelashes up at Calum. “Shopping could make me less grumpy. I think it would lift my spirits, actually. Clean bill of health for my teeth and then a little treat.”
Eve snorts. “Tomorrow is okay with me--potential for grumpiness and all.”
“Tomorrow,” he agrees, kissing Māra’s forehead. “Don’t kill your brothers while I’m gone, okay?”
“No promises,” Māra giggles. 
“Remember where we keep the lye?” Calum teases. Māra nods with a thumbs up. Calum calls out to Kiri and Cailean over his shoulder to keep an eye out. It’s only outside in the slight breeze of the air that Calum turns to Eve. “Should we get a jacket for you?”
“I’m okay,” Eve laughs, but Calum’s shrugging out of his leather jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Now you’re going to be cold.”
“Nurse me back to health when I get sick, yeah?”
“Happily,” Eve grins, taking his hand again.
“I’m sorry about calling you kitten earlier. It’s-it's a habit, I guess.” A habit he built with Kelsie. Not one he had with Eve. He’d noticed the mistake as soon as he let the pet name slip. But Eve hadn’t reacted poorly. Calum just needs to clear the air. 
Eve accepts the apology, the words dying on her throat that he doesn’t have to apologize. Calum would apologize. He always would. Perhaps sometimes the biggest grace Eve could give Calum was accepting the apology even if she never needed it. Calum did. That’s the thing that matters. 
The drive to the restaurant is relatively short, light conversation about Calum’s day at work. Calum makes doubly sure that Eve’s okay with the storage unit system she currently has. Though he’s more than sure she is capable of looking out for herself, he doesn’t love the idea that she’s not at least inside the city, close to a densely populated area. Eve manages to convince Calum to let things remain as they are for the moment, but the conversation naturally would be revisited. 
They get seated relatively quickly in the restaurant and Calum ensures to pull out Eve’s seat and she settles, shrugging out of the jacket draped over her shoulders. Out of habit, she glances down at the menu, though Eve’s already sure what she would order to appease the setting. As the waters are filled, Calum reaches over to take Eve’s hand. “You sure you’re okay with me crashing the shopping date on tomorrow?” Calum asks, thumb stroking over the top of her hand. 
Eve nods. “You just want to keep your little girl safe and I think it would be good for me to know the limits. For clothing. Clearly I’m not a good judge.”
“I try to give her some slack, you know. Soon she’ll be buying her own clothes without  Dad’s approval and I just want her to be responsible.”
“Yeah, eventually, she’ll be sneaking bags inside of bags,” Eve teases. 
“Do not give her any ideas, please.” Calum squeezes at her hand. “Thank you. For understanding. You did great, you know?”
“What-what do you mean?”
“With the blazer. I must admit I was prepared to be outnumbered. But when you offered an alternative I was pleasantly surprised.”
“I can’t overstep your rules, Calum.” 
“I know it matters to you that you aren’t overstepping. But still—I really appreciate you offering an alternative. You saw how much it mattered to Māra and you saw what mattered to me. Your negotiation skills are quite sharp.” 
Eve tries to keep the blush at bag. Her reaction only felt right. It only felt like the right thing to do. She didn’t think it was that spectacular. But her cheeks warm at the tenderness in Calum’s gaze. “Thank you.” 
“No, thank you.” 
The conversation lulls just a little, but it feels normal. There’s no need to force conversation. Eve takes in the slight deflation of Calum’s cheeks. Where in his youth his cheeks had been full and rosy, as he’s aged they’ve fallen just a little. It’s nothing extremely noticeable in a fast glance. But Eve knows Calum who is thirty years younger. She catches the way age has graced his features. 
“You’re staring,” Calum teases, looking up to her from beneath his lashes. 
“You’re handsome,” Eve returns with ease.
The sentiment shouldn’t make Calum blush, but it does. The heat spread across his face. He’s sure his cheeks, if one could get close enough, are tinted just a little with the rush. Not red, but possibly a really faint pink and Calum laughs. “You sure do know how to make a man blush.”
“I know a lot of other things too.”
“Smooth,” Calum returns. “Criminal, because we are in public, and I was told I needed to behave.”
“I didn’t set any rules and expectations for myself. It’s a shame, really. Don’t you think?”
The taunting is cut short by their need to order. Calum orders for the both of them. It’s as the teases return that Calum finds himself reminded that this part is easy. The dating, talking about each other’s day, filling each other in on the happens since their last deep conversation is all easy. He is allowed to find comfort in the ease of their laughter. For the first time since he’d called Eve to come back into his life, Calum feels like this might’ve been the right choice all along. 
Back in the breeze of the night, they walk side by side, hand in hand. The evening is calm as it can be. There’s still the sounds of sirens, the honk of someone’s car in the distance. But it feels a bit easier to be out in public with Eve. Partially it’s because Calum knows there’s very few paps that still feel the need to follow his every move anymore. Not that there were many paps for a long stretch there, but their first run at a relationship was notably marked by photographers awaiting the perfect snap. Now his band and fame is an old flame. Which means as he directs the both of them to the ice cream place a few stores down, he doesn’t think long about if someone will recognize either him or Eve. 
“For someone so busy, you’re still finding time to keep your hair dyed,” Calum comments, taking in the emerald green ends. “I don’t think you got to green the last time.”
“I go through phases,” Eve returns, spoon digging at the sides of her bowl to get more sprinkles on her spoon. 
“Any color you want next?”
“Maybe blue again? Not sure. Depending on how this strips when I remove it, it might be mint green or yellow next.”
Calum nods, working the cherry from the stem with his tongue. “Used to say I would dye my gray hairs,” he offers. 
Eve catches there might be more behind the sentiment so she quirks her brow. “I don’t see any dye.”
“Never got around to it. Think I should start?”
“No,” she returns swiftly. “I don’t think you should.”
Calum laughs around the cherry he’s working down. When he’s mouth is free of the mashed fruit, he continues on, “Why’s that?”
Eve offers a tiny shrug. “Like I said, you’re handsome. Why would you need to hide getting older?”
“I mean, men aren’t told to care that much about their looks. But it’s not easy. I really thought I’d get out of California when I had kids. Town’s not good for ‘em. Everyone’s obsessed with the way they look. It’s not hard to start thinking maybe you need to care too.”
“A place like this can easily breed insecurities,” Eve agrees. Her spoon scrapes up the last dregs of her sundae. “It doesn’t seem like the town won out, though?”
Calum’s natural reaction is to laugh it off, but Eve’s eyes are narrowed in and assessing. He runs a hand through the hair, the curls wrapping around themselves before sitting back in the chair. “It’s hard with kids. They come first a lot of the times. Whatever’s going on with me just sort of defaults to not important enough. You notice it though. When the pants fit a little too tight or the hole you used to wear a belt on goes up by one or two, you notice. I used to think I’ll get to it. When things settle down, I’ll get back to where I was. I still go to the gym 4 times a week. I’m not sitting on my ass all day long. My knees would protest me if I did. But it hit me, ten years ago now, I think, there’s no going back. The body I had at eighteen, twenty, hell even thirty is long gone. I won’t ever be him again.”
Calum pauses, glancing out of the window they’re sitting next to. In the reflection due to the lights inside and lack of lights outside, Calum watches as Eve shuffles in closer, leaning onto the table. He doesn’t give into her silent invitation. “The pants just have to go at some point. They start taking up too much closet space. Sure the slight graying in the stubble or in my hair doesn’t really strike me initially. I’m too busy worried about the gut to worry about the hair. But then, I’m at the beach and there’s this guy older than me still cut and I think that’s the first moment where it sort of click for me. I really wasn’t going to get that body back and spending my time wishing for it doesn’t actually do anything about it. But what makes that man feel like he has to look like he’s still twenty five. I wasn’t even that cut at twenty five. I was toned. But then I look at what my body has always been and it becomes this thing. It’s always in the back of my mind. I’ve never had the washboard abs and I keep seeing everyone around me with them. These guys are half my age and I still want to win the body image race. I’m not going to. But I want to.”
Calum shakes his head for a moment, eyes finally drifting up to Eve’s. “This probably makes no sense.”
She shakes her head. “No, no, you can tell me. You can keep going.”
“It’s boring. Really. In the end I’m here. This is the only body I’m going to get so hating it feels like a waste of the very limited time I do have.”
“So no hair dye?”
Calum grins, head shaking again with a no. “Again, I could spend my time in a salon getting it dyed or I could get the grocery shopping done. I’m going to get the grocery shopping done. Easy choice. I could work out 5 times a week or I could have an extra hour in my day for a nap, or errands, or seeing my friends, or going on a date with you. I think I’m going to take that extra hour back in my day. I break it all down to choice: I could choose to keep spending time loathing and wallowing in self pity or I can do literally anything else on my to-do list. I try to eat healthy. I keep active. And I want to enjoy my life.”
“Damn, here I was thinking the only enjoyment in life was wallowing in self-pity,” Eve reclines back into her seat too now, fingers spinning her empty bowl around in circles. 
“Yeah, I’ll be the first to tell you there’s a lot more to be doing.”
“Like eating ice cream,” Eve offers. She gestures to Calum’s own cup that’s not quite finished. 
“Absolutely like eating ice cream.” Calum reaches back out for his cup and pulls it up to his chest. 
“It’s a problem I’d kill to have.” Eve says the sentence mostly to herself given the audience of the teen couples in the ice cream shop. A couple groups look like friends enjoying the cold sugary treat. But Eve keeps the confession quiet enough that she can almost watch the words fall from her lips into the empty cup beneath her as she sits up more in the seat. Though she’d learned that her predicament was not changing long ago, it doesn’t mean that she didn’t occasionally want something else.
“Guess we will always want what we can’t have,” Calum answers though there was no real question. Eve will always want to age and never have it. Calum will want to stay young and can’t have it. The two of them will always desire each other eternally and Calum is merely mortal. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to call desire a poison?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t call this desire one.”
Eve watches. Calum’s working down the scoop from his spoon. Is he referring to the desire between the two of them? Is he referring to the ice cream? Most often Eve could always read behind the words that Calum was giving. But given the way he’s hungrily scoping down the sugary treat, Eve’s not sure where Calum’s word lay. “Me or the ice cream?” she questions.
“Why not both?” Calum clarifies. “Why box me in?”
“I’d never do such a thing. But it was important to clarify.” She doesn’t bite back the smile. “Want another?”
Calum shakes his head. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”
Eve sighs at the taste of chocolate still sitting on Calum’s tongue when he laps into her mouth. The metal of the car presses into the bare skin of Eve’s back and the coldness cuts through the haze that’s descending. Though her fingers are digging at Calum’s waist, tugging him closer into her body and her hips widening to accept him, the cold metal keeps Eve grounded. They’re still in public. There’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed. But Eve wants nothing more than to crawl into Calum’s chest and never leave. The warmth of his touch sears her skin and she’s nearly forgotten how much her body was made for him. 
Calum’s moan is swallowed down by the wet smacking of Eve’s lips against his. His muscles ache with how much he’s demanding himself to keep his hands in appropriate places. But it’s tempting. He could so easily take one of her hips into his palms. He remembers how snug he can hold her flesh and it barely leaves a mark. He could take her ass into his hands, hoist her up onto his waist, rut up into her and she’d sigh. It all comes back exactly what Eve likes. Calum doesn’t do anything if that; he behaves. Calum moves one hand and only one to cup Eve’s neck. His fingers splay over her pulse point and he can find the erratic thump of her veins against his fingers. 
When he squeezes, just slightly, Eve drops her head back causing her lips to pull away from his. Calum grins against her mouth, hovering but never quite sealing around hers. Eve grins too, slipping her hands to press into the cut of Calum’s own hips, still above his jeans but dangerous enough that Calum knows what she’s hinting at. “Ah, there she is,” Calum teases. “Now, see if you had a place of your own, this next part would be much less complicated.”
Eve says nothing. Her throat is still cupped in Calum’s hold. Calum realizes now she has nothing to say because she’s digging into his chest pocket. His keys click as she brandishes them. “Trust me?”
Of course, Eve has connections. If Calum was ever to need something, Eve could somehow always get her hands on it. He’d stopped asking questions on how she managed to have such an ability but there is a certain level of trust he has to have with her. “I do,” Calum answers. 
Eve unlocks the car, free hand finding the door handle. As it clicks open and Eve steps forward, Calum lets his hands on her fall. “Sit back and relax,” she commands, holding the door open for Calum. 
He leans over the door to plant another kiss to her lips. As he slides into the passenger seat, Eve closes the door for him. She’s quick to jog around the front of the car. Her descent into the seat is a bit more graceful than Calum’s. She adjusts the seat up closer to the steering wheel with a chuckle. “God, I know you’re taller than me but how do you manage to sit so far back from the wheel?” Eve teases. 
“Not everyone has to drive up on the steering wheel like they’re driving Miss Daisy.” Foot on the brake, Eve pushes to start the ignition. Her hand comes up to swat at Calum’s arm but he captures it before it fully connects. His lips leave a trail of kisses before he place the limb near the gear shift. A sign for her to continue. 
The streets are smooth and Calum’s just barely keeping up the turns. He’s focused more on the way Eve seems to sit with ease. His legs continue to bounce the longer the drive goes. What if he’s not what Eve remembers him as? He had aged. Still in good shape, but he was not in the same shape that he had been half his life ago. His knees sometimes bother him. Many years of punk jumps will inevitably catch up on the body. Sure Calum had confessed in the ice cream shop that he was worried about his appearance. Yes, Calum still wants Eve sexually. But it’s hitting him as they wind through the streets that it might leave her dissatisfied. 
The car pulls to a stop, a hanging red light in front of them. The touch is light on his cheek and Calum turns into it. Eve’s thumb strokes his flesh slowly. “Don’t get lost up there,” she whispers. 
“I’m okay,” Calum states. He wants to believe it too. He needs to believe that he’s okay. 
“It’s okay if you’re not. But I need you to stay down here with me, okay?” Eve’s smile is sweet. 
Calum nods, throat seizing up on him just a little but he has enough air to respond, “Okay.”
The light turns green and Eve drops her hand to his knee before taking off. In another block, they pull into a parking lot of a hotel. Calum snorts, upon seeing the building. “There were cheaper motels much closer to my house.”
“Let me spoil you,” Eve sighs. They climb out of the car together. Eve waits at the back of the car, hand extended out. Calum takes it with ease. Eve’s strides are long enough to keep up with Calum’s. “Now, follow my lead. And don’t under any circumstances think that you should reach for your wallet at any point during the check in.”
“Eve I’m not going to let you--”
“Don’t,” she interrupts. “Lean a bit more into me, okay?” Eve slides her arm around his waist dropping the hold on her hand. Calum rests a tiny bit more of his weight into Eve’s frame. The door slides open and the lobby is incredibly cold. The rush of hair cuts through the two shirts Calum is wearing. Eve opted to drop his jacket off in the car between them finishing their food and going into the shop. Calum hadn’t even thought to grab it on the way out of the car. He realizes just how cold it is when Eve rubs her palm over her back. His fingers are digging into her shoulders. 
“Welcome to The Rosewood,” the girl at the front desk greets. “Do you two have a reservation already?”
“My husband and I have been driving through the night. He got tired driving and now so am I. Would you happen to have a room available? I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Eve starts. 
Calum’s grateful for the tiny bit of Eve’s warmth seeping into his clothes. He gives a tiny grin when the girl looks up at him and he realizes now--something else swirls in her irises. Like the purple swirls in Eve’s. 
“Your husband?” the girl repeats, slower and with something like surprise coloring the words. Calum can’t tell if she was expecting something to happen in the exchanged glances; had he given himself away as not one of them? 
“Second chances,” Eve returns, tightening her hold on his waist just a little. 
Did this girl already know about Calum? He’d never seen her before, not that he remembers at least. The joke Kiri made about Calum’s memory resurfaces. But now, Calum is sure after noticing the red swirling in her eyes that he’d remember that. He remembered Eve. 
The girl taps at her keyboard, mouse clicking several times before she turns to a machine--two keycards in her hand. Calum’s been at plenty of hotels to know that they should’ve asked how many beds, what size. But none of that was discussed. There’s no conversation about the per night charge. As the keys one at a time hover over the machine, it beeps to let the attendant know the cards have been magnetized and properly keyed for the right room. 
The girl smiles as she slides over both keys. “11th floor. 1125.”
Eve takes the cards from the counter. “Thank you.”
“Should we adjust the heat in the room for your guest?”
Eve nods. “Just a little.”
“Consider it done. Enjoy your stay, my liege.” 
Eve’s quick on her heel to guide Calum towards the elevators. But he glances back, noticing the girl speaking into a walkie. Enjoy your stay, my liege. The words echo around in Calum’s brain, so much so he doesn’t even catch the ding of the elevator. He walks in because Eve pulls him through. 
“What is this place?” Calum questions as the doors close. “Do you own this place?”
“It’s a hotel,” Eve replies. “Which services all people and some creatures as needed.”
“So she is?” He doesn’t really finish the question: So, she is a demon too? 
Eve nods. “Yes, she is. There’s covers all over the world. I opened them because I can’t answer every single call. I can’t keep tabs single handedly. But there are plenty of calls that are just not worth it. It’s all legitimate. You don’t need to worry about getting caught up, though.”
“But they know me?”
“They do. And they know you and your family are off limits. I have very little time for servers who think it’s fun to use humans as play things. They create problems. I vet rigorously and it only takes one offense with me. I have rules for a reason.”
Calum hears everything else that she doesn’t say. “Because you need people you trust when you’re with me.”
“Exactly. I don’t want to be worried no work is getting done. I don’t want to be worried that there’s trouble when I’m with you.” The elevator lurches to a stop and the doors slide open. 
Calum follows behind Eve this time. So Eve has hotel fronts--which are legitimate hotels. Calum assumes so because Eve says so and because as she starts down the hallway someone else draped in a robe shuffles down past them--ice bucket in hand. They smile as Calum and Eve pass, hardly interrupting the tune they’re whistling. No strange color swirls in their eyes. Not that Calum thinks anyone would just go out and about with that aspect constantly visible.
“Why don’t you stay here?” 
“It’s not like I need a place to sleep.” 
“But you’d have an actual room and bed here. Your stuff would be safer.”
Eve pauses at their door. 1125 stared back at Calum. It reminds him briefly of how close his and Cailean’s birthdays are. “Are you concerned about my things or are you concerned about me?”
“You,” Calum returns, turning her by her hips. “I am always concerned about you.”
“I’m safe, Calum.”
“But you would be safer here.”
“I can think of one other place I’m safer,” Eve whispers, pushing slightly up on her tiptoes. 
“Where’s that?” Calum whispers back. The door clicks open and Eve grins as she steps into the room backwards. It only takes one crook of her finger for Calum to follow. Whatever concerns had about her safety are overridden by desire. 
The room is warm--thankfully so. They only flicker on the bedside lamp. And Calum’s not really sure who turned it on. The only thing he can focus on is the way Eve tastes. He listens for every sigh she releases. He zeroes in on the way she clings to him. It makes his toes curl to still be desired. Calum’s overshirt is the first to go. Eve runs her fingers over his biceps, eyes focusing in on the ink. Some of it she’s always known was there. Other items are new. Her nails scratch lightly at the black ink. “You with me?” Calum whispers into her jaw. 
“Yes,” Eve exhales, chasing his lips down again. 
The kiss is broken by Calum’s one word response, “Good.”
Calum’s breath leaves him as Eve peels herself out of the top. She stands next to the edge of the bed, arms peeling out of the mesh sleeves. The top falls almost quietly onto the carpeted floor and Calum’s mouth salivates at the sight of her breasts. He grips her hips and tug. Eve laughs as she falls into him, catching herself by holding onto his shoulder. The warmth of his tongue over her nipples causes her to moan. She loves it. Loves the way that Calum whispers into his skin, So beautiful. So fucking beautiful. She’s not sure if Calum wants the words to mean something more, but she doesn’t have the brain to ask as he holds her tight. 
Her pants slide down next and Eve stands bare. 
“Oh my god,” Calum laughs, dragging a hand down over his face. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Hmm, almost,” Eve asks. She straddles his hips, fingers teasing at the pulled up hem of his undershirt. “Can I take this off you?”
It’s the question he knew was coming. He would have to eventually, right? That was the expectation for him. He would have to take his shirt off. 
“You don’t have to say yes,” Eve continues on when Calum’s eyes fall from her face. “We can stop here.”
Calum ties his arms around her waist, forearms griped into the hand of the other at her back. “I don’t want to stop here,” he starts. The rest of the words die on his tongue for a moment. “I don’t have the body I did all those years ago, okay?”
“You don’t have the body you did all those years ago,” Eve returns. “Can I let you in on a secret?”
Calum nods, eyes falling back to her face. “Of course.”
“I don’t expect you to. I don’t want you to. I want where Calum is now--thirty years later, three kids later, a whole life span later. I want you for where you are now. Can I have that? Where you are now?”
 Calum kisses her--there are no words in his throat to convey the relief that floods his body. He can do that. It’s where he is now and that’s all she wants. Calum can do that. He parts the kiss and sheds the undershirt. He feels more vulnerable her now, under the watchful gaze that Eve levels him with. But she smiles. “Lay back for me.”
Her hands are on his shoulders and Calum gives into the non-existence pressure, letting himself fall back into the mattress. Eve bends forward just a little, arms holding her weight up above Calum. “You’re handsome you know? So fucking handsome,” she adds before pressing a kiss to Calum’s clavicle. She traces down to his peck, then kisses the other side. Her kisses continue all across the expanse of his chest. She even goes so far as to tease one of his nipples. 
Calum grunts at the sensation, but the warmth of her mouth makes him feel like he’s going to float away. He loves it. “Thank you,” he exhales each time Eve breathes her praise into his skin.
She kisses over his stomach. Calum tries to retract whenever she takes a bite, laughing just a little at the antic. “You should’ve eaten more at the restaurant if you were this hungry,” Calum laughs. 
“Oh you’re more delicious.” 
Calum is softer in her hold. But she adores the way when she presses in and it’s still firm, but still soft too. It reminds her that Calum’s lived an entire life. One that he deserved to have. He deserves to be happy. He deserves to be fulfilled in his life, in all the ways that he wanted. Eve can feel her own arousal leaking from her as she takes in the sight of Calum beneath her. Calum’s hands run lazily over her thighs. 
“Your jeans are going to be ruined,” Eve warns. 
Calum traces the line of her stomach down and reaches between her legs. Her slick drips down on his fingers. “It’s a good thing they can be washed.”
Eve tries to keep her composure. But Calum teases her clit with the tips of his fingers, slow circles and it punches her gut. She clenches around nothing knowing what will come next. Calum watches the way her breathing picks up, becomes heavier and quicker above him. He continues on, small small circles. “Please,” she whispers. 
“Please what, love?”
Eve takes his wrist and moves his hand back a little. His fingers now just below her opening. “Are you really going to make me beg?”
Calum pushes up to one elbow. He traces her opening and her grip loosens. “Maybe.”
“Calum,” she exhales. “Please.”
Calum brings one finger up and when it slides in easily, he thinks twice and then removes it, before slipping two digits inside. Eve falls forward just a little, a yelp scratching over her throat. Her hips grind down before she can stop herself. Calum relaxes back down into the mattress grinning at Eve sighs. He takes her left hip into his free hand, guiding her back up. 
She tastes heavenly. Calum hums around the two digits in his mouth. Though he can see the disappointment on her face, Eve doesn’t utter anything. She just watches Calum, pupils blown almost fully. “Come here,” Calum huffs out, pulling at her knees. Eve goes, crawling on her hands and knees up Calum’s body. 
He pulls her down onto his mouth, arms hooking around her legs to hold her in place. The first swipe of his tongue earns him a content hum. Like Eve’s been waiting desperately for this and Calum realizes the only thing he cares about right now is that sound. Swipe after swipe, Calum works her so she sighs and moans above him. 
Eve cards her fingers through his hair, legs tensing a little beneath her. The orgasm is fast approaching. It starts deep from the pit of her stomach, spreading like fire throughout her chest and limbs. The work of Calum’s tongue has her hanging between her earthly surroundings and pure ecstasy. She feels the steady march of her release shaking her core and she can only find it within herself to grind down on Calum’s face. “Shit,” she whispers. “Cal. I’m--”
The words die. She can’t get them out, not with how deep her orgasm comes from her gut. Her jaw goes slack and though a scream should fall from her lips, she is silent. Her grip tightens in Calum’s hair and he knows. Her spasms are erratic and her legs are quivering. Calum knows she’s coming undone and a little bit of pride sparks in his chest. He’s still got it. He can still make Eve buckle like this. For the moment by doubts are quieted. 
Though Eve’s still blinking back to the surface from her own post orgasm haze, she shimmies back down Calum’s body, placing kisses as she goes. She gets one hand onto the buckle of his belt and then pauses. “May I?”
It only takes a nod. Eve’s work is quick as she undoes the buckle. Her fingers are deft on the button and zipper. Eve works his pants down, underwear in her grasp too, and Calum exhales when she kisses his shaft. Her laughter is soft before she continues on, disrobing him completely. Calum’s trying to keep himself grounded. But Eve’s touch keeps taking him away. Her lips are soft around his length. She holds his hips down with her palms and Calum’s sure his whole lead is going to float off.
Not that Calum thinks he wants his head back back if it does fall off his shoulders. He wants nothing back if Eve took it. And God, is she taking everything as she grasps the base of his cock with one hand and her lips wrapping around the rest. There’s no hesitation as she takes him down her throat. Even behind the dark of his closed eyelids, Calum feels everything. If this is what it means to be a goner, Calum never wants to be found. 
“One sec-” Calum huffs, the strong tug of Eve’s hand at his length cutting off his words. Now, he’s laying between her legs, a slow shift from the blow job she’d started to the top of the bed. They both know where they are headed and Eve is the more impatient one of the two of them currently. She pouts when Calum breaks the kiss. “One second,” he whispers, pulling away from Eve. 
She lets her arms fall from around his neck and watches as he shuffles back to the edge of the bed, moving from between her legs which they’d been in for what feels like hours. There’s something more wildly intimate about sharing breaths and reverent kisses than engaging in anything else. There’s something more intimate just being close to someone that Calum hadn’t had in a long time he wants to experience the most. Sex is great, but when Eve kisses at his neck gently and when she laughs Calum feels like he’s never lost anything. He feels a little bit more complete. Calum finds his pants again, rooting into the front pocket. 
“What are you looking for?”
Calum holds up the tiny foil packet, brows furrowing as he looks back at Eve. He’d gotten a vasectomy after Māra’s birth, about a year later he’d figured. But Calum is nothing if not cautious. Nothing was fully preventative and though he loves his kids he is well past the diaper phases with all of them. He has zero desire to return to that. Eve grins, her laughter shaking her shoulders. They hold each other’s gaze for one moment, then two. Calum’s gaze breaks first, brows shooting up on his face. His own amusement paints his face. “You--that’s right!”
“Unless you feel more comfortable with a condom, of course. I haven’t had any other partners in a while.”
“Like what—what’s a while for you? six months?” Calum guesses. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, you know?”
“Like try a year and a half, maybe two,” Eve laughs. 
“Babe,” Calum coos. “A year and a half?”
“It didn’t kill me. Don’t pity me.”
Calum settles back onto the bed, motioning for her to come to him. Eve slides over and sits next to him, legs tucked under herself. “It’s not pity, Eve. The condom--it's a habit. And I never expected you to be out here celibate forever. It’s just--a year and a half? What were you waiting on?”
“You.”
“If that’s just a line, it’s a damn good one.”
Eve tips Calum’s chin up and her grip tightens on the bone. “It is not, nor will it ever be a line.” Calum knows that look ne tone. Every word is serious. Every syllable is truth. “Now bring you and your condom over here, please.”
“With pleasure,” Calum exhales. 
Calum thinks for a moment he’s not going to make it long. He hadn’t lost all his stamina, but Eve pulses around him in a way that makes him worried about how long it’s been since the last time he was with someone that he’s going to come embarrassingly quick. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but the fear prickles up just a little for Calum as his hips snap against hers. He’s able to quiet it mostly he zeros in on Eve. He gets to watch her face contort and he gets to listen to every praise all because of him. And that’s all because of him. He’s making Eve feel that good. 
Any fear he might’ve had is almost instantly squashed by the way Eve clings to him. How can he be worried about anything else when she’s begging for him? How can he doubt anything when Eve’s babbling beneath him? It’s incoherent and Calum knows it’s all because of him. There’s no higher higher than listening to Eve beg on his cock. 
Except for when Eve can see the slight falter and if it’s because of how close he is or because of the exertion catching up, Eve doesn’t question it. She just gets a tighter grip on Calum, plants one foot down onto the mattress and pushes up. Calum holds onto her waist and lets her take him down. “Let me,” she whispers into his ear. “Let me do the hard work now.”
Calum can only nod. The prickle of fear comes back and he nearly curses his body for getting older. He can’t fully form the thought because Eve pushes back up from his chest and sinks back down onto his length in one fluid motion. Calum can only see stars. Perhaps, this is the higher high. Eve’s bounce is intoxicating, a deliciously methodical pace that doesn't feel overwhelming though the pressure is slowly and steadily building in Calum’s gut. He hears her laughs and it doesn’t feel malicious. “Look at you,” she coos. “Tell me, how does it feel?”
Calum’s mouth gapes, he wants to say it feels so good. But the words catch as she gives a particularly firm push back down. “So fucking good,” he squeaks out, taking her hips into his hands. 
“Bet it does,” Eve exhales. Her breathing is coming out more labored, bordering on a pant, but she doesn’t relent. 
Calum’s tells are still the same, Eve notices. His nose scrunches up first and then his fingers dig into the meat of her thighs. He’s getting closer. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Just like that, Eve. Please.”
“Have no plans otherwise,” she laughs. 
His jaw falls slack and his orgasm rips through. All he can get is a groan, maybe it borders a scream, as his body convulses. Eve follows behind him, taking one of her hands which has been bracing her up on Calum’s chest to her clit. Her orgasm hits fast and hard. An actual scream leaves Eve’s lips. It’s Calum’s name and he swears the sound might be the end of him. It sounds so heavenly to hear something so visceral. 
By the time Calum and Eve return to the house, the downstairs is empty. It’s a good thing because Calum’s black jeans clearly spot the stain of Eve’s arousal. Not a conversation he is looking to have if he can avoid it. Calum can hear the kids upstairs--Cailean is laughing as Māra’s voice falls down the stairs. “Get out!” she screeches. 
“It’s past your bedtime, kiddo. Gotta see you off since Dad’s out.”
“No, you just want to be an ass,” Māra huffs. “Get out, Cai.”
“For the love of all things holy, the two of you need to quit it,” Kiri’s voice finally enters the mix. Calum and Eve use the spat as cover to get to the guest room downstairs. Calum closes the door softly behind them. They’re quick to shower--specifically together-- and change out of the date clothes. 
“I’m going to make sure no one is actually dead, then I’ll be right back,” Calum details, kissing Eve’s forehead from where it pokes out beneath the sheets. The squabble sounds rectified, but he wants to make sure it was nothing serious. 
“Need back up?”
“Don’t think so, but if I do, you’ll know.” 
Calum carries himself up the steps. He can see Kiri’s door is cracked at the end of the hallway, the light bleeds into the hallway. As he reaches the top of the stairs, he catches the light underneath the doors from Cailean’s room and Māra’s room. He knocks on Kiri’s door first, bypassing the younger two for the moment. 
“Yeah?” Kiri calls, spinning in his chair. He spots Calum and then smiles. “Hey, Pops. How was the date?”
“Good--enjoyed some ice cream as a nice touch.”
Kiri laughs, pointing at his own neck to let Calum know of the visible bruises. “Looks like really good ice cream.”
“Hey, hey, you’ve come back from a party or two in worse wear.”
Kiri nods, knowing of his own escapades. He holds up his hands as surrender. “No grandkids. No doctor trips, like my old man taught me.”
“Are you still seeing her? You haven’t mentioned Bryanna in a while.”
Kiri shakes his head. Calum’s not sure if he’s imagining the shift, but Kiri looks away as he speaks, “No. She, uh, she and I didn’t work out.”
Calum can tell there’s more to the story than just what Kiri gives. But Kiri isn’t the type to be fully outright. He cracks, but Calum knows he can’t outright ask what’s wrong. He just needs to crack open the door. Then Kiri will do the rest.  “You know where to find me if you want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, though I think I will have to text you before I think of going downstairs. Don’t need to hear anything either.”
Calum laughs, pressing into the door molding. It presses a little into the nail marks that he noticed his shower earlier. But it’s not a bad pain. “The last thing I want to do is scar my kids so don’t worry. Anything I need to know about with those two? Besides the argument I heard when I walked in the door.”
Kiri shakes his head, pushing up from his chair. He’s the same height as Calum when they’re next to each other. But Kiri looked so much like Calum’s own mother that it shocks Calum how much he does see Kelsie in his face too. It’s the sharp eyes that he got from Kelsie that Calum sees the most. Everything else is Calum. “Nah, it was just loud--what you heard. Nothing serious.” 
Calum nods at the return. Though this feels like a moment where he might be able to walk away, Calum stays. All Calum has to do is crack open the door. Kiri will take the inch. Kiri finally speaks again for a few moments of silence. “Are-are you happy with Eve, Pops?”
Calum exhales. He hadn’t expected Kiri to worry so much about him, nor did Calum think this would be the door Kiri would open. “Kiri, I know you care. But that’s not your job.”
“It’s not. I know. I just--are you happy with Eve?”
“I’m--I like being with Eve. I’m not happy because of her. I am happier around her though. There’s, uh, there’s a lot that I still have to deal with surrounding Kelsie’s death. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it. Yeah, I’m happy where Eve and I are. I like spending time with her. But that does not mean I’ve forgotten your mother.”
“No, no, it’s not that. I know you haven’t forgotten Mom. I’m asking because you seem happier when she’s around. Even if you two did have that small spat.”
“You-you heard that?” Calum rubs a hand over his stubbly chin. Not one of his proudest moments. “I’m sorry, son.”
“I’ve heard you and mom fight too. It’s nothing new. I asked because I wanted to say that I’m glad you’re happy, you know? We worried. I’d hear you sometimes at night when Mom first passed. And I knew I couldn’t do anything, you now. I was crying too. But, it’s just, it’s insane to think that a year ago we were all thinking we’d never get through it. And now, we-we are. We’re getting through it.”
“It’s all time, Ki. It’s all time.”
Kiri nods. It was all time. In more time they’d be even further along too.  Though, Kiri’s current predicament seemed like time would never give him what he wanted. “Brynna and I didn’t work out because I refused sex a couple of times.”
There is it--the mile Kiri would take if Calum gave an inch. Calum crosses the threshold into Kiri’s room, closing the door softly behind him. His heart pounds in his chest. Was this going to turn into a story of Kiri giving in just to appease someone? Was it going to turn out much worse? For a moment, Calum’s vision shakes, but he inhales deeply and settles in the desk chair Kiri had originally vacated while Kiri settles onto the bed. “Are you okay, Kiri?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay now. And I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. But I don’t know. It all still sort of feels weird I guess.”
“Weird how?”
“I-The first time it happened we’d been drinking.” It’s not lost on Calum just how young Kiri is. Yes, it’s underage. But the thing that Calum is more focused on is that if Kiri’s going to make those choices he knows the consequences. He prefers if he’s honest that Kiri drinks at home. But he knows it won’t happen. Kelsie didn’t like the drinking at all and the first time he turned up home drunk Calum had been the one to get him to his room and leave water for him in the morning. Kelsie, much like Calum, understood the kids would make choices they didn’t always love, but they never wanted to make their kids feel bad for choices. Sometimes natural consequences were enough. 
Kiri finally works the lump down in his throat to continue on. “I wasn’t drunk. But I wasn’t sober. Brynna was worse than me so when she initiated it, I sort of squashed it. Played up I was drunker than I was and when I told her we probably shouldn’t, she seemed a little hurt at first. But the party continued on and it was just a struggle to get her back to her dorm room. But she passed out the second she got into her bed. It never seemed to come back up again.”
Calum nods, to let Kiri know he’s still listening. “Take your time,” he offers soft watching Kiri blink away some tears. 
“But the second time, she and I were here. Studying. And I know not a lot of studying was happening. We were getting a little handsy. Kissing was fine, but I just didn’t want sex. Nothing against her. But I’d been on edge after getting my second exam back in Calculus, that D.”
Calum offers another nod. He remembers how Kiri had stomped into the house and gone directly to his room. It took until dinner for Kiri to be calm enough to express his struggles with the course. They sat down that night to figure out how to book Kiri a tutor through the university. But they got it and now he’s getting by with a B-. It may just barely be a B minus, but it’s better than the D+ he’d been at. 
“I don’t know. Like it was a distraction, I guess when Brynna first approached me. And I sort of gave in because I wanted to at first. But when I’d back out of the gate and go back to work, she’d kiss at my neck again a few minutes later. After the second time of me sort of softly rejecting her, she tried a third time and I just had to flat out tell her I didn’t want more right then. She got offended. She accused me of cheating. I tried to tell her that I wasn’t cheating. And I swear I wasn’t Pops. Then she said that me rejecting her made her feel unwanted and like she wasn’t attractive. And I don’t know. Everything I said was wrong. If I tried to tell her I did find her attractive, then she’d ask why I didn’t want sex. And I just didn’t, you know? I just didn’t want it right then. But it all got out of hand. She started screaming at me. I--it got to the point where I told her I’d take her back to campus but I wasn’t going to be screamed at and accused of things that weren’t true. I wanted to talk it out and I offered to like give her some space so we could talk it through. But it never de-escalated.”
Calum can see the tears falling and he reaches out, a hand on Kiri’s knee. It’s not the story he thought he’d get--part of Calum is relieved to hear that his worst nightmare was not recognized. But it’s not easy. It never is. “Look at me, Kiri.”
Kiri sniffles hard before he brings his head up to look his father in his face. “I don’t know what I did wrong. It sucks.”
“It does suck. I’m sure you know I can’t tell you what you did right or wrong. I wasn’t there. But I can tell you that you offering to talk about it after Brynna calmed down is a better move than I could’ve given at your age.”
“She eventually ordered a ride back to school even though I offered to drive her. She did text me that she got back safely after I asked her too. But when I tried to text her the next day to see if she was in an okay spot to talk, she just told me that she wanted her ring back.”
“Did she ever talk to you?”
Kiri shakes his head no. “Thanks,” he returns when Calum hands him a few tissues from the box he keeps on his desk. 
“It’s okay to refuse sex when you don’t want it. I know it might fly in the face of everything you might’ve seen in movies, or heard from your friends. But you can say no. People have to respect it when you make that decision. If they don’t, that’s a them problem. You let her know you didn’t want it. It’s really up to her to respect that decision. If she can’t, then the only thing I want you to worry about is keeping yourself safe, you hear me?”
Kiri nods. “I mean, it’s not like I’m a woman, you know.” It’s easy to hear what Kiri’s is implying. He won’t have the same experience as Māra. 
Calum scoots to the edge of the chair, taking Kiri by the back of his neck. They’re foreheads press together. Calum can feel his own tears more now, as they slip down his cheeks. “You may not feel threatened in the same way women do. But it’s still important that you are safe. Your safety is still important.”
Kiri nods, as much as he can, given Calum’s grip. “I know, Dad.”
“I’m glad you stood your ground. I’m so fucking glad she just left and nothing else worse happened. I’m sorry she yelled. I’m sorry she accused you of that shit. But I need you to remember: your job is always to come back safe to me. You got that?”
“Yeah.” Even as the affirmative leaves Kiri’s mouth, his chest feels a little lighter. It doesn’t feel like so much is pressing at his shoulders and neck. He is safe. It does suck what Brynna did and never let Kiri really explain further. Given that she didn’t look at him anymore in classes, he wouldn’t ever get the chance to explain anymore. 
“Come here,” Calum whispers, moving to embrace Kiri in a tight hug. “You’re safe,” he chants. It’s more for Calum than it is for Kiri. Kiri is safe. He’d stood his ground. Brynna had left. “You’re safe.”
When Kiri’s hold loosen, Calum lets him go. Kiri confirms that he’s okay and slowly, Calum steps out of the room, closing the door behind him. 
Eve’s right at the top of the stairs, eyes quietly assessing the redness in Calum’s eyes. His cheeks are wet and he’s sniffling. His chest heaves and she knows something has happened. But she doesn’t say anything before ducking into the bathroom next to Kiri’s room to grab toilet paper. Thankfully she knows it’s a bathroom due to the open door. She hands the wad over to Calum, one hand rubbing at his back. “Came up because I got worried. You okay?”
Calum tucks his head into her neck. He inhales the scent of her body wash. It’s hard for the panic to fully settle when he’s counting how long to hold his breath before he exhales. Eve just holds Calum in silence, keeping her palm a steady slip over his back. When his breathing regulates enough, Calum pulls away. “Sorry.”
“No, no need to be sorry. Do you need anything?”
Calum clears his throat, hands settling now on her hips. “Just need a minute. Still need to check on Cai and Mar.”
Eve gives another nod, eyes assessing Calum’s face. So it’s something with Kiri. Eve doesn’t press. She only nods when Calum glances up at the ceiling. He gives another slightly more steady exhale before taking a step away. “Are my eyes red?”
“Just-just a little. Are there eye drops up here?” Eve turns a little, eyeing the bathroom she’d exited. 
“Master bathroom does, I know. But it’s alright if they’re not super red.”
Eve shakes her head, turning back to Calum. “No, they’re not super red. Could pass for tiredness.”
“It’s all I need.” Calum squeezes at her hips and Eve slips a step back, as if she’d planned to go to the stairs again, but once Calum knocks and pokes his head into Māra’s, Eve tries to assess where the master bedroom might be so she can get to the connecting bathroom. The doors all look the same. She could guess but then if she’s wrong it’s obvious.
“Love you,” Calum returns as he shuts the door. He continues on to Cai’s room, knocking before he catches the affirmative call from behind the door to poke his head inside. Eve settles that maybe she won’t have enough time to find the master bedroom before he’s done. So she waits, near the stairs to hopefully avoid being detected. Though she knows if any of the kids open their door, she will be spotted. 
“Alright, kid, let’s behave, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Love you,” Cailean laughs, his voice carrying from behind the door. 
“Love you too.”
Eve takes a couple steps closer as Calum closes the door. Once it’s fully shut, she fully crosses the way to him. Calum slips his arm around her shoulders as she presses into his side. “Want to talk about it?” she asks, threading his fingers through hers.
Calum just nods for the stairs and they take them, rounding the corner to the back hallway and only stop once they’re in the bedroom. Calum tries to keep it brief in his retelling. He knows he maybe shouldn’t be even telling Kiri’s business. But he can still feel the shaking of his hands. Calum can still feel the initial anger coursing through his veins. The thing Calum feels most of all though is a sting in his chest. He wishes he could’ve been there more for his son. The truth is Calum didn’t know before now.  
Kiri never said anything until now. He spent so much time on the campus that it was hard to get Kiri for longer than he wanted to be around. Had Calum failed Kiri by not being more firm on making it home for family dinners more often? Had this been festering for as long as it had--which had been weeks, maybe two months now. Kiri came home angry about the second exam about halfway through the semester. In another four or so weeks, the semester would be ending. It wasn’t Calum’s fault for what happened but were there signs Calum had missed?
Eve brings his head into her chest. “Hey, hey, I know that look. Baby, you didn’t know. Kiri’s growing up. He’s not going to tell you everything all the time. He’s going to take some things and do whatever he can to handle it on his own. You and Kelsie raised him to be a competent young man. He can handle a lot. More than you’ve seen him handle probably. When he can’t handle it, that’s when he comes to you. When he’s stumped, he knows you’re there.”
Calum nods, because it’s true. That’s the whole point of children growing up. Kelsie and Calum wanted their kids to get to this point. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “He used to come to us about everything. When he struggled with tying his shoes, he used to ask me to help. When he needed help with homework, he’d come to me.”
“He was supposed to go to you for those things,” Eve returns. “And he still does. He still comes to you. He did it tonight.” She’s not sure if these words are comforting or if she’s adding more fuel to the fire. “He still comes to you for help. It just looks different now.”
It does look different now. It will look different in another nineteen years too. Calum tightens the hold on Eve’s t-shirt. He knows she’s got plenty of business to attend to. She’d mentioned it earlier before they left for dinner. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?” Calum asks softly. 
“Yes.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?” It feels silly to ask. Eve might not be able to promise that. But Calum needs reassurance. He’s afraid if he wakes and she’s not here, he’s going to unravel.
“Yes,” Eve returns again. “Yes, I will be here when you wake up.” Those words make it so much easier to contemplate sleep for Calum. 
Calum catches the beeping of his alarm and he sighs. There will be little light when he cracks open his eyes. It won’t rise for another hour and a half. Something closes softly, even though Calum’s alarm is going, when the sound cuts down for a moment he catches the close. “Eve?” he asks quietly in the dark. 
“It’s me.” Her voice floats back over the wail of the alarm. 
Calum pushes up and turns the noise off. The bed dips a little behind him. He switches on the bedside lamp. There is the soft yellow haze as he turns, Eve fills out in front of him. Her horns--which Calum can’t help but recall the night her halo crumbled to reveal the horns-- are still protruding but clearly being retracted and hidden away. Calum strokes her jaw. “You don’t have to hide here.”
Eve closes the distance to press a kiss to his lips. “I like to keep up appearances,” she states against her lips. “You still okay for shopping today?”
“Dad’s gotta do what dad’s have to do,” Calum nods. 
“Want me to handle breakfast then? Is today a workout day?”
“It is. But you don’t have to, Eve.”
The nails are sharp against his jaw, but Eve’s touch is gentle. “Give me one thing on your plate today.” It is not a plea. It is a command. 
“Breakfast,” Calum concedes. “If you don’t mind.”
“Give me the rundown, boss.” As Calum pushes out of the bed, grabbing his workout clothes he talks through all the normal things he fixes for breakfast. Eve nods, peeling herself out the robes and slipping into one of Calum’s t-shirts. She leaves the leggings on. Her shoes have been toed off already. 
“Cailean’s going to wake first. He showers and then does god know what in his room. Kiri wakes second. He’s a night showerer. So he’ll probably get downstairs first and be the first one of the door. Māra wakes last, takes the longest to get ready. But she’ll be down stairs before 7:25 to scarf down her oatmeal. Cailean’s driving Māra and himself to school now with his license so even if I’m not back, which I will be, but should I not, they’ll still get to school on time.”
Eve nods. “Oatmeal, banana, and orange for Cailean and Mar. Kiri will take whatever. What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you have?”
Calum grins. “I eat a little bit of oatmeal and usually some yogurt.”
“Won’t do,” Eve insists. 
“I have survived on it this far.” Calum kisses her forehead after tying up his running shoes. Eve walks with him to the front door, after Calum gets something quick down before his workout. 
At the crack of the door, Eve tugs Calum back by his waistband. He gives into the tug and she stretches to kiss him. The horizon is still dark, but it’s got a blue underhue that lets them all know dawn is coming. “Have a good run,” she wishes. 
She has a little bit of time. It’s just barely five. Though she knows for her plan she can’t wait too long. So when the minutes tick over to about 5:45 she pushes from the bed. Her phone buzzes. Eve answers the call, listening to the rough breathing crackling through the phone. “Finished.”
Eve rattles off a set of coordinates to the voice on the other end of the phone. “Confirm the amount,” she commands after a minute of silence. 
“550.”
“Wait for my call for the other half, waiting to confirm cleanliness.”
“Understood,” the voice heaves out. The phone call ends. Eve places her phone back onto the counter, giving the eggs one last flip. 
“Morning,” Kiri says. His voice is a little hoarse but his smile seems mostly genuine as he takes in Eve’s appearance in the kitchen. 
“Morning.” Eve sets a plate down at the bar counter. “That’s for you.” 
Eggs and toast stare back up at Kiri. Then another bowl settles down--a melody of strawberries, blueberries and what looks like sliced mango. The glass clinks against the coaster--orange juice he realizes. “Thanks, Eve. You-I could’ve gotten all this.”
The front door cracks open, Calum’s voice floats up gently from the front. “Eve?”
“Kitchen,” she calls out. Then to Kiri, she adds, “I was fixing myself something and heard you upstairs.” An easy life. 
“Thank you,” he returns. There is a plate which holds a similar assortment so it looks true enough. When Calum rounds the corner into the kitchen, he pats Kiri on the shoulder. The two men give a nod to each other before Calum carries on and kisses Eve’s forehead. She lifts the other plate and hands it over to Calum. 
“Good run?”
He nods. Though he’s sure the sweat is clearly still dripping down his face. “Thank you,” he motions with the plate up and then settles down next to Kiri. His bowl of fruit and orange comes next and Kiri frowns a little. There are dishes that are in the sink. Perhaps Eve really did already eat. 
“Of course, babe.” Eve turns back to the stove, pulling down the packets of oatmeal. The floors above them croak. By the time Calum finishes the dishes that are in the sink after his own breakfast, Cailean’s surfacing downstairs. 
“Good morning,” he states. Not with a lot of usual Cailean bravado. Eve starts to deduce that he may not be a morning person like Kiri, but has had to adjust because he’s taken up driving him and Māra to school. Calum slips out of the kitchen to take his own shower. 
“Burning the midnight oil?” Eve teases, setting a bowl of oatmeal and a banana on the placemat. 
“My brain is not awake enough to even understand what that means,” Cailean returns. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Cailean.”
He’s quiet as he eats and Eve tries to listen for Māra. She can’t quite separate out Calum’s shower from what might be running upstairs. So she glances at the clock on the oven. 7:10. Probably a good time to start Māra’s breakfast. Eve does worry for a moment that she might finish it too quickly so she slows everything down just a little. Calum returns to the kitchen and Cailean’s still there, backpack at his feet but there’s no Māra. He spins with a sigh and just as his mouth opens, Mar comes down the steps. 
“Saved by the bell,” Calum grins. “Sleep good?”
She nods. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t decide on what shoes to wear since we are going shopping early. Didn’t want anything that would make my feet hurt.”
“Mar, I keep telling you that you need more cushion in your shoes because of your flat feet.”
“But those aren’t cute,” she protests, giving him a hug. 
“You’ll get it when you’re older,” he laughs, kissing the top of her head. She scurries into the kitchen, knowing she’s only got a few minutes to spare. 
“Good morning, Māra,” Eve states. Calum goes back to the sink, realizing more dishes have piled up. 
“Hi, Eve. Thanks for breakfast.”
“Of course.”
It’s strange as the house falls silent. Kiri left while Calum was taking his shower, but he did say his goodbyes to the house before his departure. Cailean and Māra have long left. The dishes are done. Calum stops Eve on her way back to the room. She falls into his chest with ease. “Thank you for helping today, baby.”
“Of course, Cal. I’m happy to help. What time is Māra’s dentist appointment?”
“1:30. I’m picking her up during her lunch time, 12:45.”
“When are you leaving the studio then?”
Calum shakes his head. “Not going today. Will be going in a little tomorrow, four hours max.”
“So what are you planning to do for the next 4 hours?”
“You tell me,” Calum whispers into her neck. 
Eve giggles at the scratch of his stubble. “Something tells me you have plenty of ideas.”
Speak of the devil. Calum waits for a moment longer and then another message pops up. It’s a screenshot of a text conversation and he taps on it, bringing this glasses down from the top of his head. He’d forgone his contacts as he was running low on time. As much as he didn’t want to leave the bed with Eve, she’d forced him up so he could get Māra on time and be on time to the appointment. Māra made it through another dental appointment with a clean bill of health and now he sits outside of the dressing rooms at the place Eve mentioned yesterday. She and Māra have been rummaging through racks for a solid twenty minutes and Calum opted to linger back as to not intrude too much. 
After he approved her try on stack--a few of them just barely passing Calum’s initial check--Eve and Māra scurried to the fitting rooms. Eve agreed to be the first line of defense, knowing that she might be able to talk Māra down from any ledges before having to face Calum. Now Calum is here, pulling his glasses down to read the screenshots better that Kiri sent to him. At the top he can see Brynna’s name. The last text exchange was brief. 
Kiri asked if she got back to the dorms safely. Brynna replied with a short, yes. When Kiri asked the next day--this text more clearly dated for September 15th to the current start of December, can we talk soon? i’d like to understand what made you so mad about me saying no, he received only two sentences: i’d like my ring back. meet before calculus. 
But the latest message is from Brynna. Calum can tell from the date and it being in a gray bubble. sorry about the way i acted. you didn’t deserve that. There’s no real explanation about why Brynna acted the way she did. But perhaps the apology would be what Kiri needed to move on. Calum taps into the box to reply. 
How do you feel about the apology? he asks. 
i guess i’m relieved. at least she apologized? don’t know really. 
Calum sighs as his fingers work over the keys. Is it because you still want to know why?
yeah, like, she apologized and i appreciate that. but it still doesn’t tell me why she freaked.
Calum taps the corner of the device to his forehead. He’s not sure what to say. Kiri would never really know why. It appears as if Brynna had enough change of heart to apologize for her actions, but not even to reveal what it was that made her so insecure about Kiri’s refusals. This is one of those hard lessons, Calum’s realizing, that he was telling Eve about. Kiri was going to have to learn to accept the fact that he would never know why. He’d only heal and be able to move on once he accepted that sometimes shitty things happen to good people. Sometimes they reason is never known. 
“Thoughts?”
Calum snaps his his head up, taking in the sight of Māra in the red studded sleeves blazer that Eve mentioned earlier. It’s longer than he imagined it to be, but it fits well. “I like it,” he smiles. “Goes well with those earrings you just got.”
“Yeah, the black leather tassel ones. I see the vision,” Māra smiles. “Okay, next top,” she commands and Eve starts to step away but notices the falter of Calum’s smile. 
“You okay?”
“Later, if that’s okay. It’s about what I told you last night. With Kiri.”
Eve nods. “Of course. Later. You need anything though in the meantime?”
“No, I’m good. Now you should go, Mar’s not going to wait too long.”
Eve grins. “We had to axe a few tops before the blazer. I’m crossing my fingers the sweaters are a hit.”
“May God be with you,” he laughs and Eve signs the cross before heading back. 
Calum stares down at the messages with Kiri. I’m sorry she didn’t explain, son. Do you want to talk more when you get home?
yeah, i’d appreciate it, pops. thx. 
Anytime, Kiri. 
Māra proudly displays off a knitted turtleneck in yellow with a black and white gingham pattern on the front, jeans with barbed wire design up the entire body of them, and a black dress with ferns printed onto the design. Calum approves of all of them. The dress is full length to counterbalance his concerns about the spaghetti straps. Eve and Māra both defend that she can wear a long sleeve shirt under the dress to keep it more appropriate for winter and more modest. Māra is a fan of layering, as Calum notices. So he accepts the dress into his arms before they head to the register. Before he can get his cards out, though, Eve slips the bills to the cashier. 
“I had it,” Calum laughs. 
“Think of this as me pre-warning you about the grocery bill this week. Perhaps better to save the cash for that”
Calum can only grin. “What damage’s been done now?”
“Eggs,” Eve laughs. “So many eggs.” She takes the change back and Māra slips in to take the bag with a brilliant smile up to the cashier. Calum and Māra head back up to the foodcourt, considering Māra hadn’t gotten her lunch and was much too eager to the mall to think about food. Once Eve seems them to a table, she kisses Calum on the cheek. “Going to make a quick run to a store while you two eat.”
“Oh, where?” Māra questions. 
“It’s just the Vitamin Shoppe,” Eve counters. “Bit boring, so I figured you two wouldn’t want to waste the time.”
Calum nods at the comment. “Be safe,” he whispers up to Eve. 
“I always am.” He watches her though. Eve would have no reason for the vitamin store. However, she doesn’t turn to round the corner to make to the shop. She continues straight on behind Māra into one of the lingerie stores. Calum quickly looks back down to his tray. Oh, he knows the vitamins are code for. In all honesty, lingerie that was lace and delicate didn’t hold a candle much to the plain looking stuff. He’s garnered respect for simple and chic rather than the buckles and zippers. 
But he won’t complain in the least about what Eve gets. He will not complain in the slightest. He works down a forkful of the coleslaw he ordered as his side before slipping his phone out from his jacket pocket. He swipes until he finds the text message thread with Eve. Lingerie is a hell of a vitamin. 
It sits for about two minutes before Eve responds. Well, you know what the say. A chain and a whip a day keeps the doctor way. 
Calum snorts at the joke and then puts his phone back. Māra and he finish up just as Eve slips out from the store. The bag is a sleek black with the logo written across it in gold. Māra definitely notices it is not the name of the vitamin store, but she only grins as she looks up to Eve. Māra is thankful though. There is at least enough decency not to call it out between them. Māra’s phone is a constant clack from the back seat as Calum and Eve share the front. The charms swing and click with the bumps and as she swipes away. 
“I passed that English quiz, Dad,” Māra offers between the songs on the radio. 
“That’s awesome, sweetpea. Seems like the extra ten times a day study is paying off.”
“Yeah, I’m not a fan of the fact that I have to add extra time in English. But you were right in the end. Just need to slow down when I’m annotating to really get it.”
Eve’s content from the passenger seat. When the conversation dies, the radio takes over and after a while, Māra will cut in with something else. Usually directed at Calum, but it’s okay. That’s her father and she would never want to cut in on that. They pull up to the house and Eve surveys to see if Kiri’s car is in the driveway. When it’s not, she relaxes a little. She can finally get more details. Māra grabs her bag from the backseat and as they all climb out she takes Eve’s hand gently. “I don’t think I said thank you earlier for coming today and for paying. I really appreciate your kindness, Eve.”
“You’re welcome, Māra. I’m honored you wanted to shopping with me and trusted me enough with it.”
They smile at each other and something like an agreement or understanding feels like it’s blossomed. “Off to my books,” Māra offers. It almost feels like a question, like she’s double checking it’s okay to leave the conversation. 
Eve nods. “Happy studying.” She watches Māra stride all the way into the house. She realizes Māra has a key to the house too. Which of course makes sense. 
Calum slides up next to Eve, her bag in his hand. “Can I take a peak?”
Eve laughs. “No, you can’t. But nice try.”
“Had to ask.” 
Eve keeps calm enough that when they stride into the house she doesn’t feel the need to immediately ask about Kiri. She drops her bag off into the room and then joins Calum in the living room. He offers his side as a cuddle--feet already kicked up on the cushions. Eve finds all too easy to slide between Calum’s legs and rest her head on his chest. He runs his fingers into her hair, rubbing at her scalp. 
“So I told you about Kiri and his stuff, right?”
Eve nods at Calum’s question. “Yes.”
“The girl texted him today. Apologized but didn’t really provide context for why she freaked. He and I are going to talk more when he gets home.”
“Did he say how he’s holding up?”
Calum gives a shrug. “He said he’s a little relieved that she apologized. But it’s eating him alive that he can’t get a straight answer. And I-I don’t know what to tell him. Feels like one of those shitty hard lessons that as a parent I feel like I should be able to soften, but in reality I can’t. It’s just a lesson that’s going to fucking hurt.”
“Wise man told me that we can only do our best when children are faced with those kind of lessons.”
“Yeah, he’s right. Damn bastard,” Calum snickers. 
Eve looks up, cheek smushed still against Calum’s body. “You always manage to find the right words when you need, Calum. And even if they’re not perfect, I think the more important thing is that Kiri knows you’re there for him.” 
“Thank you,” Calum returns, fingers stilling in her hair. “For always being willing to listen.”
“It’s the least I can do, Calum.”
The two lay on the sofa long enough in silence that Calum slips away into sleep. Eve senses how deep his breathing is before the snores start up. She smiles and waits for another ten minutes before she slowly pulls herself from Calum’s hold. He stirs just a little, head turning now to face the couch cushions, but he doesn’t wake. Eve takes her phone from the coffee table. 
She goes back to her calls and taps on the number from this morning. The line connects and more heavy breathing, fills the line. Eve is as quiet as she can be as she rattles off the coordinates carrying herself into the hall bathroom. “Confirm the amount,” she commands for the second time today. 
“550,” the voice heaves back. A bit of a growl curls up the last few syllables. 
“Make scarce. Do not contact me again about this mission. ”
“Understood, my liege.” 
Eve slips her phone back into her pocket and flushes the toilet though she didn’t use it. She runs the sink for about a minute, running her hands under the water. She shakes her hand free of the excess water before going for a paper towel. When she steps back out of the bathroom. Calum’s still curled up on the couch. Māra’s laugh comes from above Eve. Out here, no one will know about what Eve’s done. 
She prays, though, as she settles back down on the couch, resting Calum’s feet into her lap that the apology is enough for Kiri. Eve couldn’t get more. She didn’t need to press to know that she wouldn’t get it. But maybe there’s a little good in the bad. For Kiri’s sake--Eve hopes it’s the truth. 
***************************
I need some help and I can’t go to Dad. Are you free? Māra stares down at the text. Her cursor blinks, and blinks, and blinks. It’s all true. She does need advice. And she doesn’t feel comfortable enough to go to her Dad about it because she’d been the one to tell him not to ask Eve on her behalf. So here Māra is. But there’s something that feels a little bit like betrayal. She could so easily go to her mother before about these kinds of things. Her aunt was in a whole other country and most definitely wouldn’t see the text for a couple days. No doubt her aunt probably wouldn’t be able to make the trip on such short notice. And truth be told, Māra wants it to be Eve that goes with her. She pictures it now walking into the dance with Eve has her escort. The entire room would fall silent but Māra wouldn’t feel so left out. She wouldn’t need to feel pity and no one would need to pity her just because her mom had died. Because Māra would have Eve there to ward off any pity. Eve would make Māra feel safer than just with Calum alone. 
Anyone else that Māra might ask might give her too much sympathy too. Sure it might be an honor that Māra trust them enough to ask to accompany her. But even that thought makes Māra’s stomach churn. She needs someone without the sympathetic gaze to help her with this. So the only other person Māra can think of is Eve. No doubt Eve may not see this text for a few days either. Eve seemed to disappear almost without warning. She’d be there at the house one day and then a few hours later, gone. Dad always said she had duties to see too. He never looked worried so it made Māra feel more confident that it wasn’t anything major. But it did happen a lot. What would happened if Māra asked and duties came up day of? Who would Māra turn to then? But it’s not helpful to think of such scenarios. 
Eve did say that whenever Māra needed her, she could ask. Text--specifically. Eve said to text because she was more likely to see that and than a missed call. Eve can only say no to the request. But a yes would mean so much more. 
“Oh, screw it. Just hit send,” Māra reprimands herself verbally. 
The text lifts, the bar loading, and then settles. The green box stares back at Mara, I need some advice and I can’t go to Dad for help. Are you free?
Her phone swoons. I’m downstairs, and will be up in two minutes. 
Oh, hi, welcome. Didn’t know you had finished up with your stuff. 
Quick one--they’re a rarity. 
Māra snorts at the addition of the smiley face. But she is glad that the response is pretty immediate. Another minutes goes by and the rumble up the stairs doesn’t sound like one person. Māra listens at her door, ear pressed to it to catch who else might be coming up the stairs. She assumes one of them is Eve. Cailean was already in his room, or so she thinks given he was a few minutes ago. There’s no telling where he might’ve migrated too. Kiri’s on Christmas break and had planned a trip to New Mexico for the the last week after the holidays right before classes resumed. 
“I-I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Her dad--that’s who the second person is and though they’re keeping their volume down there’s no other noise to completely drown them out. 
“About what?”
“It’s important but if Māra’s asking for you, it can wait.” 
Māra continues to press into the closed door for Eve’s response. There’s something like a whisper and this time Māra can’t catch all of what is said. But the silence that follows stretches for a while. Maybe it’s more whispers. Māra strains and strains to listen, only she catches nothing. The stretch of silence is broken by a knock on the door. Māra jumps, a tiny screech leaving her as she backs away from the door. The door handle turns and before the door cracks fully open, Eve’s voice floats through wood. “You okay, Māra? Can I come in?”
“I’m okay,” Māra returns, one hand still clutching her chest. She should’ve backed away from the door the moment it went silent for longer than a second or two. 
The door cracks open slightly and Eve slips in, before turning back to the hallway. “I’ll be downstairs once you two are done.” 
Eve says nothing as she shuts the door close, though she does nod at Calum’s statement. Eve watches Māra settle onto the edge of her bed. Where Eve and Kira and even Cailean were on good terms, the three of them being able to jump in and out of conversations easily, Eve and Māra were still doing a dance. Māra was nice to Eve. When Eve was over, Māra offered the spot next to her on the couch or if she was getting a snack she’d asked if Eve wanted something. They had the one shopping trip they went one. It’s was fun. Eve was cool and always managed to uphold the rules that even Māra knew she couldn’t bend without making it seem like a big idea. She’d offer something like, Maybe we try to find something longer than this or I think the top needs a bit more coverage. What do you think? Māra always knew it was a no, but at least it was more a conversation. 
But since then, Māra and Eve were still assessing boundaries. Māra would default to Calum if she needed anything. The exception being when Calum needed a root canal and Eve stepped in to drive him to and from the appointment. Then, when Calum had gone to try and sleep off some of the lidocaine, Māra leaned into Eve a bit more asking Eve if she could help Māra with assembling the last of her poster board for her science fair project. 
Eve is happy to help, but she makes a rule to never force any interaction. She’ll ask or try to initiate but she never forces. This feels decidedly different. Māra wants Eve’s help with something before going to Calum. 
“How was it?” Māra ask, tossing her phone up for a moment and then catching it. The keychain attached to her phone grips clacks in the air before clashing against the case as Māra catches it. “Should I call it work? How was work?”
“You can call it work. It is a job, basically. And it was fine. Nothing to report home about.”
“This--would we be home?”
“If you’re okay with it.”
Māra snorts just a little. “If Dad is literally following you around like a lost puppy is any indication, I think it’s safe to say, you can call this home.”
Eve leans into the door. “It does matter to me what you think too. You’ve built this place with your Dad and your Mom. I don’t get an automatic claim to anything just because Calum’s a lost puppy.”
Māra cringes a little hearing back her own words. “You can’t tell him I said that though. He’ll kill me.”
“Consider the secret safe.” 
Māra can’t bring herself to get to the point, the reason why she’d asked Eve for help in the first place. It felt ridiculous to ask her something like that and the two of them really didn’t have much of a relationship besides a mutual understanding. Perhaps, before asking for something, Māra can get to know Eve more. Outside of the blunt and honest woman that she’d always presented. “What--what is it like? What you do?” she asks. 
“Oh, well, it’s not fun. We don’t party that’s for sure. It’s necessary, I guess, is the best way to describe it.”
“Plain English, Eve. Please.”
Eve snorts, pushing off the front door a little and then wanders to the doors in front of the closet. She takes in the poster on the door, a band that Eve’s never heard of but keeps a mental note of should they surface up in town in the near future, before facing Māra.  “It’s shit. Dealing with assholes who want to complain they don’t belong in Hell. Or you get the people proud to be there and they’re really the worst.”
“Sounds like high school--the worst,” Māra teases.
“Worse than high school,” Eve laughs. 
“No way. High school’s awful.”
“Why? What happened?” Eve asks. 
“It’s drama--pointless really. That’s what makes it so awful. None of it matters who’s screwing who or who’s dating who. But everytime I blink someone’s up in arms because of who their boyfriend is texting.”
“Tell me about it, if you want of course.” Eve doesn’t want to probe if Māra’s not going to give up more. 
“It started really when Robyn started dating Morgan. Morgan’s always been a bit more…free-spirited. Let’s say.”
Eve nods that she understands and then slowly approaches the bed to settle down next to Māra. Māra goes on a five minute rant about Morgan’s reputation preceding her--a sophomore at the school. Eve learns that Robyn, who is a freshman like Māra, had known Morgan through a mutual friend that was outside of the group that Robyn and Māra are in. Due to Morgan’s reputation, the entire friend group told Robyn to spend more time getting to know Morgan before deciding to date her. It’s sound advice, but not advice that any fourteen year old would listen to in the end. Robyn has a late birthday, Māra explains. Where the rest of the friend group was turning fifteen, Robyn was still behind them. Which leads to Robyn hearing rumors about Morgan. Morgan vehemently denies kissing anyone else since Robyn and Morgan went official but the seeds of doubt had been planted. 
Eve does her best to keep up, especially when it comes to a potential plan to see of Morgan would cheat. Eve wants to interject that maybe setting someone up isn’t the best way to go about finding out the truth, but refrains as Māra’s retelling continues. “The set up is stupid. Because even if something were to happen, it really wouldn’t be fair to Morgan. She’d be in there with other girls and who’s to say that one of them wouldn’t force herself on Morgan. It’s--can I swear in front of you?”
Eve nods. “Who am I going to tell?”
“My dad for starters.”
Eve withholds the obvious. Māra has sworn in front of her father before. This moment is about bonding more deeply. So Eve returns with, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Māra grins at the statement. “I like you. Anyways, it would be really fucked up to send Morgan in there with no one else. I told everyone to drop that idea and really, we have to take Morgan at her word. If she said she didn’t, then I believe she didn’t.”
“Do you believe the rumors about her reputation? It doesn’t sound like you do.”
Māra shrugs. “I mean, do I believe that Morgan’s willing to kiss and make out with a few people? Yeah, I do. She’s sweet but she knows what she wants and really isn’t afraid to go after it, you know? I don’t think that makes her a bad person.”
“So, why tell Robyn to take it slow?”
“I’ve spent only the last seven years with Robyn. I know her. She’ll go guts deep into something without considering the consequences. She’s also a bit of a romantic. And I get it, romance is nice. But she gets lost in it, you know? I didn’t want her to get hurt. Morgan is nice and I don’t think she’d cheat on Robyn. But Robyn’s a little gullible and she won’t think twice before believing something.”
“So you didn’t want Robyn to get hurt by jumping in too fast with Morgan because rumors would surface? Instead you wanted Robyn to like Morgan for who Morgan is and to be able to withstand the rumors?”
Māra points at Eve, a single white painted nail excitedly jutted out at Eve. “Exactly that! If Robyn had spent more time getting to know Morgan before, when rumors re-surfaced Robyn would know better.”
“You’re a good friend, you know?”
Heat rises on Māra’s face. She just tries her best to be a good person. It doesn’t always help that she’s quick to slice with her words. But she tries. “Thanks.”
“So, what did you need help with? Are you trying to console Robyn now?”
“Oh,” Māra got so caught up in relaying the drama to Eve she nearly forgot what she’d asked Eve up to the room for.  She pauses at the edge of her bed a few inches from Eve. Māra picks lint that doesn’t exist off the comforter. “Robyn’s heart is broken, or so she says. I think once she talks with Morgan later it’ll be fine.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you. I was quite invested in Robyn and Morgan. You can-you can continue.” Eve keeps still as Māra settles down. 
Māra falls back into the mattress with a bounce. “Robyn hasn’t texted me back yet so I’m not sure what’s going on anymore. Well, for right now at least.”
“Keep me updated?” Eve asks. She wants to tap on Māra’s knee but she freezes instead and waits. 
“You do that a lot,” Māra counters. 
“Do what?”
“Just stay still. Like you’re afraid sudden movement is going to make you explode or something go bang. You’re still a lot.”
“The truth is I’m afraid a lot. More so now than ever,” Eve answers. 
“Afraid?” Māra questions. What would the devil have to fear? Shouldn’t Eve fear nothing. 
Eve shakes her head. “Not things I’d want you to worry about. I keep still because I try to remind myself there’s still time. But it’s time I’m most afraid of. It’s ironic don’t you think?”
“I think everyone is afraid of time,” Māra returns. 
“What makes you scared of time?” Eve asks. 
“Forgetting my mother. Growing older, getting married all without her. Then I’m scared of not knowing what I should be doing with my life anyway.”
“She--”
“Mom loves me. I know. Present tense. But she’s still not here, you know? She can love me and still not be here. Because she’s dead.”
Eve nods. “You’re right.”
This is the time to ask, really. If Māra’s going to ask Eve, it’s right now. She pushes up to sit on the bed, tucking her legs around herself. Would Eve think Māra is strange for such a request? But it’s something Māra needs to do now. She needs this, everyone else be damn. “There’s a dance,” Māra starts. “In two weeks. You know how there are father-daughter dances. This is an etiquette dance, a debutante ball really. It’s a big deal. I-I wasn’t going to go originally. But I think I do. For Mom, you know. She and I went every year.”
“I think she’d like you too.”
“Could you ask her?” Māra laughs after she asks. “I know she’s not with you. But I’d like to go. And I’d like to know if you’d come with us?”
“Us?” Eve questions. 
“Dad is going to go, obviously. But it’s not the same with just him. There’s a mother-daughter dance and while Dad would fill in in a heartbeat, I’d like to not stand out so much, you know? I’d like you to be there too.” 
Calum had mentioned the dance briefly to Eve. He’d been frantically trying to find a pocket square to match her dress color. He found one eventually, but it took four different suit stores to find it across L.A. Eve gently reaches for Māra’s knee, giving it a squeeze. “I’d love to accompany you.”
Māra grins, taking Eve’s hand into her own. “Thanks. And can I ask one more thing?”
“Of course.”
“I need help. There’s a dress from Mom I want to repurpose and rework. But I don’t know anything about sewing.”
Eve laughs. “I can help. I’ve learned a thing or two about sewing. Show me the dress and what you want.”
“There’s a sewing machine and stuff in Mom’s old craft room. I don’t think Dad’s got rid of anything in there yet,” Māra states, pushing herself off the bed. She opens one of the closet doors and yanks down a white dress. The more Eve takes it in, the more she realizes it might’ve been a wedding dress. “It’s Mom’s reception dress. Dad’s got the wedding dress I think. Said I couldn’t have it just yet to mutilate it.”
The spaghetti strap dress with a full length skirt and lace detailing isn’t much to work with, but Māra details how she wants to shorten it just a little to make it midi length and if she could maybe add illusion back, but a second set of sleeves that hang lower on her shoulder. It’ll still be a classy silhouette but it’s bring the look from wedding formal just to formal. 
Māra leads the charge from her room downstairs. Eve follows, gown in her arms. The back is low when Māra tries it on, and it’s a little too big in some areas so Eve knows she’s got to take the bust and waist in too. It’s a lot of work to do in just two weeks. But a plus is that Eve doesn’t need to sleep. As Eve finds the tape measure and a notebook to take the measurements in, she does her best not to think about the presence she can feel pressing into the back of her. Dead people do not haunt her like they did Death, but Eve still knows when someone’s spirit lingers. Kelsie is in every corner of the room. Eve prays her presence does not feel like an intrusion. 
“Where did you learn to sew?” Māra asks. “Dad said you were a dance instructor when you two first met.”
“I was,” Eve returns, pinning the spot on how much length she needs to take off. “I was a seamstress before that. And before that I was a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?”
“Decades ago. Before any of you, Calum included, were born.”
“Are they like front jobs?”
“In a way, yes. They keep me Earth side for legitimate reasons when I need them. I could easily just lie and manipulate my way through but it makes things less normal. When I first encounter people they don’t know who I am. I have to have a reason to stick around.”
“Other than love?”
“Other than love,” Eve agrees. 
“What’s your cover story now? So I know how to answer that at the dance,” Māra covers. 
“Don’t have one now. Didn’t think I’d need one for at least about thirty years. Calum’s getting up there, but he still has a good stretch in him. If it helps, you can tell them I’m retired.”
“You won’t look it.” Māra doesn’t mean it maliciously. It’s just the truth. Eve hardly looks like she’s pushed out of her twenties. And while she knew her father and Eve had years of history, the rest of the world would see a woman forty years her dad’s junior appearance wise. Māra worries for a brief moment that someone might say something. How would Eve react? Hell, how would Māra react?
“I’ll never look old enough.” 
Māra hums at the response. It’s true. Eve looked the same as she did in the photographs Māra had discovered back when her mother first died. The moment Eve walked in through the door it was like Eve had been plucked out of the thirty year old photograph and preserved just now for the moment. There’s no way Eve wasn’t mystical. 
“I’m sorry for calling you a snake,” Māra returns to the still air. 
Eve’s busy now pinning and pinching the extra fabric around Māra’s waist to get it to sit right. “You weren’t technically wrong.” 
The flick of Eve’s tongue makes Māra laugh just a little. It’s nice to see Eve being comfortable around them. Though it was definitely strange the first few times she’d shown up hiding away her features. She still does, Māra notices. Most of the time Eve presents her brown eyes and normal tongue. But there’s been the occasional fright where she’s had to set off from their place and in the rush, they’ve seen the purple irises and forked tongue. 
“Still, I’m sorry.”
Eve nods, hands hovering over the bust. “Apology accepted. Now I do have to work in the bust area. You okay with me continuing with you still in the dress or do you just want to pass along your bra size and I’ll work with that.”
“I’m okay for you to keep pinning,” Māra returns, staring straight at the wall. She does glance over to Eve who nods in her gaze. 
“Thank you. So, what color should I wear, Māra? I’d hate to clash.”
“Dad’s wearing black. I think you should wear what you want, really.”
“You sure? What if I showed up wearing bright red?” Eve snorts. “That would be a sight.”
“It would look nice.”
“If I’m honest, I don’t own much outside of gray and black.”
“Well, besides your wedding dress.”
Eve’s laughter is all through her nose. She’d worn a white fit and flare dress, lace floral details in the bodice that gave way to a satin skirt and a matching white cape. It felt right when Eve wore it for the wedding, but it’d been waiting since then for use. After a few decades, she’d slip it into someone’s donation bin and let it take on a new life like she did with the others. But now, the idea swirls at the base of Eve’s skull before flittering over her lips in an fleeting exhale, “Perhaps I should dye it black now.”
“I’ll help,” Māra grins. 
“I’ll give a good trim too. It’s too long now I think.”
“Definitely,” Māra nods. “You think you can do all that in just two weeks though?”
Eve brings the mirror from the corner close to Māra. “I don’t sleep. What do you think? Good length and fit?”
The dress does fit it a bit tighter without it being scandalous. The length hits about four or five inches from her ankles. Though Māra knows the technical rules, she was one of the older girls helping to bring in the latest round of girls into the debutante and then also use this as her last hurrah before she aged out completely out. But the color and length are close enough that Māra’s willing to risk it. Without the excess fabric, Māra can wear her heels without issue and if they kick her out for an extra few inches, then they just kick her out. “I look hot.”
The two women laugh and Eve takes it as a good sign. She notes how much she needs to take up and in for each section and then lets Mara dress back in her normal clothes. “Give me a week and then you can try it on again to see if it fits right.”
Māra nods and then steps in closer to the older woman. She slips her arms around Eve’s waist in a hug. “Thanks, Eve.”
Though for a moment Eve freezes, she lets herself relax enough to hug Māra back. It’s not strange. Eve hoped this moment would come. It’s the fear again. Eve doesn’t want to fuck it all up with Māra. But if the hug is any indication, perhaps she’d been doing better than she realized. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
“Are you serious about the wedding dress? I think it would be worth hemming and dying it.”
“I’d need help getting the length right,” Eve offers, letting Māra pull back out of her hold just a little. The young girl grins up at Eve and Eve knows. “But I think I know the perfect assistant.”
“I don’t think we should show Dad--your dress I mean. It should be a secret. It would kill him, but worth it in the end.”
“I like secrets,” Eve laughs. “When you try on your dress, I’ll bring mine so we can discuss what to do.” 
Eve was still holding the secret about Kiri. And as much as Eve didn’t want to keep that from Calum, she knew what she did was wrong. She’d meddled. She’s gotten involved and even in the end, it still hadn’t helped much. He and Calum talked later that same day. When Calum came back that night to the room, before Eve left to handle business, she could clearly see the distress etched into his face. Kiri walked with a bit of a slump for a few days. Eve knows natural consequences occur for every decision. If the chips fell down on her about it, she could withstand it. 
Māra’s laugh brings Eve back to the present. “Sounds perfect. Thanks again for agreeing to this. The dress and attending, it means a lot.”
Eve tightens her hold briefly back around Māra wanting nothing more than to savor the moment. “Of course, Māra.” 
Eve slips out of the room to let Māra change back with some privacy and when she’s out in the hallway, Calum’s leaning against the wall. His arms are folded over his chest. “Is Māra still in there?” he asks. 
Eve nods. His look is stern and she knows. This moment here are the chips falling. This was the important thing he wanted to talk to her about. A few weeks later and her choices caught up with her. “Yes, she is,” Eve answers. 
“Did she ask you to join us for the dance?”
“She did. I accepted.”
“Thank you,” Calum returns with a nod. “She’s been nervous to ask.” His tone is even, but his jaw is set hard. Eve’s best bet is just to answer whatever questions that Calum has. This is not the time for her to joke. When it came to his children, Calum is not the type to take anything severely lightly. Eve knows she’s going to have to come clean instantly. 
The door behind Eve creaks. The sound alone breaks both Calum and Eve out of their stare down. Eve steps away from the door, turning to grin at Māra. “One week,” Eve reminds her. 
“It’s a date. Don’t forget the other stuff,” Māra returns to Eve. 
“I wouldn’t dare forget it.”
Māra slips away, a grin painting her face. Eve and Calum both wait for her to fully exit the hallway before they slip into the room wordlessly together. Eve’s already gotten into the habit of keeping any quarrels the two of them have away from the kids if they can. 
“What did you do?” Calum asks. He’s past the moment of patience and formalities. The thought that Eve might’ve been potentially involved scratched at his brain a couple days after Kiri got the text. But then it faded as they prepared for the holidays. It had to fade away because between coordinating his mother’s arrival into town, getting all the presents wrapped, and helping Kiri get his trip to New Mexico finalized, there was no time for the half crocked idea to fester. But now his mother’s gone, Kiri’s texted him that he’s safely arrived in New Mexico with his friends. Now, there’s plenty of time to think. 
Calum’s gut knows though. As he thought about the timing of it all and the way Kiri described Brynna--her apology just didn’t add up. Before Eve’s lip curl, Calum’s next sentence is already falling from his throat. “That girl was never going to say anything.  Then the day after I mentioned it to you, she came back with an apology. I couldn’t worry about it before. Too much was happening. But now, I've been thinking and I need to know. What did you do?”
“I had someone speak with her,” Eve returns. It’s as simple as that. There’s no beating around the bush. Eve just answers the question. She did. She only had someone speak with her--in her dreams. There would be no way to prove anything. What would Brynna say? She was met with her literal demons in her dreams and had a change of heart. What would it sound like? Just a girl who might’ve seen the errors of her way. 
But not to Calum--clearly. 
Calum knows better though. Even if it’s a shock that Eve’s not playing some joke or using a riddle, there’s still something underneath her words. “Speak with her or scare the shit of her. I know you, Eve. You don’t play fair or nice.”
“They sound the same to me.”
Calum huffs, pacing the length of the room. There’s the old Eve. Or maybe the truth is Eve would always be who she was. There was nothing new or old about it. It is just Eve. Calum spins approaching Eve. She stands so still and sometimes Calum worries when she freezes like this she’s preparing for something awful. She never flinches away though. Calum’s always cognizant to give her a couple feet in these kinds of situations. For a moment, his heart pangs in his chest that she’s prepared for something, someone to hit her. But then he thinks about Kiri and his brain clicks back onto the track he needed it on. 
“Why did you do it?” Calum questions. Intent didn’t always negate the effect. Eve’s intention wouldn’t undo the fact that she’d interfered. Her intentions wouldn’t undo the fact that it opened a wound for Kiri that had potentially been scabbing over. But her intentions would settle Calum’s nerves. He’d know more about what Eve was hoping to accomplish. 
“I thought it would help give Kiri closure.”
“Did it seem like it worked?”
“Not in the slightest,” Eve returns. It’s honest. Calum catches the blinks. Eve’s trying to keep her emotions at bay. He can’t tell if it’s anger, or tears from remorse. But something about the way things worked out seems to be striking a cord in Eve. 
“Do you regret it? Whatever you did.” He won’t ever know and maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t know. Then he doesn’t have to worry about almost spilling it to Kiri. 
“I regret that it hurt Kiri further. I don’t know if I feel remorse for thinking it would work.”
Another truly honest Eve sentiment. Always sorry for the damage, not always sorry for the attempt. Calum doesn’t fault her. He’d briefly considered trying to find this girl himself, having words with her or her parents maybe. But it’s not his life that must be lived. It’s Kiri’s life. Anything they did would impact him. Calum gets it. And now Eve’s learned the hard way. 
“We cannot tell Kiri about this. He cannot find out you meddled.”
“I’ll take it to my grave,” Eve promises. Whatever her grave looks like, whatever it means for Eve to take something into her death. 
Calum exhales. She is good at keeping secrets. She never looked like she was hiding something. But the timing of it all was just too suspicious for Calum. He takes her hands into his, but Eve gently slips them back to her side. Calum doesn’t fight her. “Please don’t meddle in my kids' lives anymore, okay? Please don’t do it again. I won’t ask again. So if you promise it right now, it is for the rest of their natural lives. Understood? I don’t care if they’re 82. Please do not meddle in their lives.”
“Understood,” Eve whispers. “I really am sorry it hurt Kiri more. I never intended for that.” Her voice cracks a little and Calum sees it. How much Eve hadn’t meant to make things worse. Sometimes natural consequences are the best teacher. 
“You wanted to help,” Calum concedes. “But talk to me first. When it comes to my children, please talk to me first before you do anything. Unless it’s something to save them. You can be so literal sometimes and I have to cover my ass.”
Eve snorts at the jab and uses the back of her hands to wipe at her cheeks. “I will.”
Calum opens his arms, the question of a hug lingering in the gap. Eve steps into his chest. He imagined this conversation to be more like pulling teeth. Eve would make a joke or give some sort of riddle response to be sarcastic. He’d tried to remind himself Eve was who she was, and her tactics weren’t always the most conventional. But Eve stripped down her walls. She’d been honest without too much sarcasm. “They sound the same to me,” he snorts in a taunt. “Smartass.”
 “Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answer to with me.”
“You used to not answer. I used to have to ask and call you out for being a stubborn ass in order to get an answer.”
“Now when you do ask, you get truth. Ain’t it unpleasant.”
Calum inhales, nose filling with the scent of Eve’s shampoo. “It’s growth for you. Even if it’s a pain in my ass.”
“That’s my job.”
“You weren’t ever going to say anything, were you?”
“I know you wouldn’t be a fan of my methods,” Eve returns. 
“You were right.” Calum pulls back, taking her face into his palms. “Did you mean it, when you promised about staying out of their lives like this?”
“I meant it when I promised, Calum.” Eve knows Calum needs the reassurance so she’s happy to supply. “Swear it on with my life. Let the Big Guy strike my dead.”
Both of them are silent--waiting. Nothing comes. No hiss of pain from Eve. No flash of lightning. Calum exhales. “Okay, okay. No more meddling for you.”
Eve nods. “No more meddling in your kids’ lives.” Calum can’t help the laugh. Of course Eve would be quite specific about the term of her promise. But he wouldn’t expect anything else. 
**********************
Calum’s knocked, figuratively but also a little literally, on his ass when he calls up the stairs to get Eve and Māra to descend and both of them are already standing at the top of the stairs. Eve gives Māra’s curls one more quick swipe through with her fingers. But he’s more taken aback by the tight black dress Eve’s in. The see-through cape on her shoulders shows off how tight the skirt of the dress is. It stops about three inches or so from her ankles. But it hides very little of her figure. Not that Calum ever thinks Eve needs to hide. He’s just gotten so used to her looser clothes. Still flattering, but not as tight. There’s something like lace he thinks in the details of the dress, but he can’t quite tell from this distance. Calum has to tear his gaze away lest he have another situation to deal with at the ball in and of itself. 
He clears his throat, head dropping to handle the sight he just took in of Eve’s brown skin in the black dress, how the material hugs her curves. His fingertips tingle just a little with the arousal. 
“Calum, if you shout once more for us, you and I will have a problem,” Eve returns with a grin. “We needed to be done by 7:30 to make it on time. What time is it again?”
Calum glances down at his watch. “Seven thirty on the dot.”
“Exactly,” she faces him now from the top of the steps.
He catches the lace flowers now on the front of the dress. The cape around her shoulder has flowers too. He’d know that dress anywhere. He’d know it in a heartbeat. Her wedding dress. It’s not as long or flowy as it was when she wore it originally. But there it is with new life in front of his eyes. Calum knows his mouth is agape but he can hear the giggles. “I-sorry,” he starts. 
“I think you’ll catch flies, Dad, with your mouth hanging like that.”
Calum brings his gaze over to Māra dawned in Kelsie’s  reworked reception dress. There’s a second set of sleeves that have been added, and some of the length taken up. But Māra’s covered to her neck is lace. He can tell by the applique lace detailing that sits higher than the original neckline. But she still looks gorgeous. She looks so grown up, much more than he’s used to seeing. 
“I think the two of you have officially sent me to an early grave,” Calum breathes out. He clutches his chest as he ascends the stairs. When he gets to the top he gently twirls Māra to a full view. “You look beautiful, sweetpea.” 
“Thanks, Dad. Do you think we did Mom’s dress justice?”
Calum nods. His throat seized for a moment. The tears are going to fall. He’s not going to be able to stop it either. “Hands down, sweetpea. There is no doubt in my mind that Kelsie would be so incredibly proud to see you in her dress.”
“Dadm if you cry I’m going to cry,” Māra starts. Her voice wavers too. “And then I’m going to ruin my makeup.”
Calum exhales and it’s shaky. “I think you need to prepare for your mascara to run.” 
He tries to do what he can to snuck back his tears. But he can’t. The tears slip down Calum’s cheeks and Māra’s tears are falling too. Eve hands them both tissues before they embrace each other. Calum wasn’t sure why Māra had snatched the dress when she did. He assumed it was maybe a desire to keep some part of Kelsie alive. So he never asked her directly. But now that he’s watching Māra come into her own and see how deeply she wants to honor her mother in the process, it overwhelms Calum. 
They embrace for a long while, even Calum knows it’s too long. But he doesn’t care. When they separate, he checks over Māra’s face. “Oh, no mascara that ran,” he reports. “A good sign.”
“Waterproof, sweetheart. It’s not going anywhere,” Eve laughs when Māra looks back to Eve. 
“You knew?” Māra asks. 
“Sure did. Was married to your father for seven years. I know he cries at everything,” Eve laughs. 
“He does, doesn't he?”
Once Eve is able to patch up Māra’s makeup, they descend down the steps. Eve does snap some candids but Māra’s insistent that they get any other photos while at the ball itself. It’s not a far trek to the truck once downstairs, but Eve helps with Māra’s dress and gets her safely inside. Calum starts to help Eve but he pushes back on the passenger door. “Your wedding dress?” Calum questions. He still can’t believe he’s seeing it again. Even like this. He can’t fathom that he’d be lucky enough to see it twice in his lifetime. 
It doesn’t sound like a bad question. There’s no malice. He just sounds breathless at the prospect. “Too much?” Eve questions. 
Calum shakes his head. “No, no. I’m just floored. It looks fucking incredible. You look, God. I don’t have the words for how amazing you look.”
Eve grins kissing at Calum’s freshly shaven cheek. “Thank you. Mar’s idea.”
“I’m raising a genius,” he laughs, cracking open the passenger door. 
Eve climbs in easily and he catches sight now of the clear heels she’s dawning, rhinestones scattered over the pointed toes. It shows off the dark blue toenail polish. As much as Calum loves this outfit on Eve, he daydreams on the drive over peeling her out of it. He can keep the daydreams in check the second he arrives at the avenue because Calum realizes that he is wildly out of place here. Kelsie was usually the one that handled this stuff. She took Māra to the classes, and balls. He always had emotional support on lock to reassure Māra that she always looked brilliant in her dress, but it was Kelsie’s role to partake of this world. She understood the rules. Calum definitely did not. 
He’s not sure if Eve knows better than him. Calum probably should’ve asked if she did. Part of it was an assumption. Eve would have to know more than he did. He was banking on it and now as he’s walking arm in arm with Māra, he glances over to Eve to see if he’s alone in his floundering. Eve looks regal, walking every so slightly ahead of them to get the door. There’s nothing on her face that makes him think she’s totally lost. Either it was a good sign or it was a massive fuck up. Time would surely reveal which one it is. 
At the entrance there is a line of girls and their mothers. They crowd seemingly first at the desk to check in and then at the photographers line at the opposite end of the entryway. Māra reaches for Eve’s elbow and at the contact, Eve extends it without question. Calum catches the way Eve squeezes Māra’s hand just a little as they approach. It’s easy enough to check in--name, number of guests to confirm, and then she’s given the table she’ll be seated at rattled off by a father who looks just as haggard as Calum is sure to feel at the end of all this. 
“Photos first, if that’s okay. While we still look put together.”
Neither Eve nor Calum object to Māra’s question. They continue on and join the line of people waiting for their turn with the photographer. The line is shortening, which is a good thing. Perhaps the few minutes they got sidetracked at home served them well in the long run. “Do you want photos with just your Dad?” Eve asks once they settled into the line. 
Calum hears what she’s really asking: Do you want photos without me? He doesn’t fault the question. If the tables were turned, he’d be asking the same. 
Māra shakes her head. “I’d like a group shot of all three of us. Then one with just dad and then one with just you.”
“Sounds good,” Eve smiles. She can feel the quiver in her own lip as Māra holds a little tighter to her. 
“Oh my god, Māra!” A younger girl squeals as she steps out of the auditorium. She approaches as fast as she can in her heels. Eve and Calum take a step back as the two girls embrace. 
“Hi, Vee,” Māra laughs, embracing the girl tightly. 
“You look AH-MAZING. Seriously--where did you get the dress??
“It’s-it’s my mom’s old dress. Redesigned it a little. Love the eye makeup by the way. Eve,” Māra pauses and turns to look at Eve. “Eve helped me with the dress. She literally did everything.”
Eve’s wave is tiny, but her head nod is more noticeable. “Hi, Vee.”
“Oh, you’re Eve. You’re, like, hot,” Vee laughs. “Love the black and cape moment.”
“Th-thanks.” Eve’s not sure what she’s supposed to say in response. She’s not sure if it’s code for Eve looks two decades younger than the other mother’s here or if it’s just a compliment. 
The two girls fall into an easy cadence with promises to find each other inside. They’re sitting a table way from each other which doesn’t seem to worry them at all. Perhaps all the adults already understand that the children are going to rearrange their seats to be closer together unless otherwise needed. 
They move up the line as another mother and daughter exit the space in front of the backdrop. Eve stays a little behind Māra and Calum when they move, but Māra reaches back. There’s something in her gaze that Eve catches. Maybe it’s just how Māra widens her eyes just a little and then settles when she realizes Eve hasn’t gone far. 
“Force of habit,” Eve whispers and then slips in next to Māra. 
“Just didn’t want you to disappear on me.”
Eve shakes her head. “No, I won’t disappear on you.”
The line continues to move swiftly and before they realize, it’s Māra who steps up. She settles into the middle, Eve on her left and Calum on her left. “Three poses?” The photographer asks. 
“Four,” Māra corrects. “Group, two duos, one single.”
“Sounds good. Group first. Squeeze in tight,” she directs waving Calum to slide in a bit more. “Perfect. Big smiles, in one, two, three.”
The light flashes from above and Eve prays she didn’t blink. Calum gets a photo with Māra first, then he steps back to allow Eve to step into frame. Māra smiles as Eve closes the three foot gap she created to make sure she wasn’t in frame. “Okay?” Eve asks. 
Māra nods. “Yeah.”
“Specific pose?”
Māra laughs. “Eve just stand here, it’s okay.”
“I have to make sure,” Eve giggles before she rests a hand gingerly around Māra’s waist. They both turn back to the photographer, who counts them down again. It’s another flash and then Eve shuffles over to Calum while Māra gets her solo pose. 
“A set of 5x7 digital prints will be available at the next meeting,” the photographer states. There’s no wait for confirmation. Just waving on the next set of people. Māra leads the both of them back into the auditorium. The dance floor has been clearly marked by the DJ booth and a seat of tables. It’s rectangular and empty, but that doesn’t seem to stop the girls from gathering all around their tables. 
The air feels stuffy in here, but they continue on, finding the table marked with an 18. The entire time Eve walks next to Māra she spies the heads that turn. There it is--the gossip. There is a chance that it’s just a surprise about Māra given the loss of her mother. But when a mother looks away quickly after catching eyes with Eve, Eve knows that just behind that shock with Māra is the whispers about her appearance. But Eve continues on because Māra asked her to be here and Eve would not back out of it just because of some looks. 
Their table is empty but it’s clear where others may be joining them. Māra just gets her phone from Calum before someone else calls out her name. Māra spins and spots Vee and two other girls walking behind her. They hike up their dresses as they walk around the chairs. “Someone got caught trying to spike the punch,” Vee laughs before she’s even closed the distance. 
“What?” Māra returns. “There’s like parents literally everywhere.”
“Maybe it was a parent,” a shorter girl theorizes. “I think I might need a drink to survive this thing.”
Calum and Eve smile to themselves before they settle down at the table. The girls huddle together, voices harmonizing at moments with their laughter. “Maybe we should’ve snuck some flasks inside,” Calum jokes. 
“Can you keep up?” Eve returns.
“I’m not that old.”
“You-you can go mingle,” Eve returns. She’s the one out of place.
Calum grimaces a little. “This was Kelsie’s scene. I’m not even sure anyone would remember me.”
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Māra. I’m glad you came out tonight.” 
Calum and Eve turn to the exclamation to see a mother whose approached the group. Calum leans in, whispering into Eve’s ear. “Barbara-- the the last I heard of her, she’s the debutante’s Queen Bee. No one really likes her. Her daughter hasn’t made an appearance yet. Her family’s got money in this I think. Or founded this. I can’t remember exactly.”
Calum squeezes Eve’s hand and she turns back to face Calum. He reaches for the empty glass in front of his place setting. “Can you spot the peach ball of tulle coming in from the left?”
Eve slowly glances up from her place card to take in the dancefloor and spots the hurried steps and a blur of pink from her right. Eve doesn’t move her head, just lets her eyes drift as far as they can before turning them to center.  “Moving like lightning?” Eve questions 
“Barbara’s right hand--Julie. They’re more often enemies than friends from what Kelsie told me. But they plan the ball together each year.”
“Hmm,” Eve returns, mouth turning down into almost a frown before bouncing back into a neutral line. “Maybe Julie’s the one who snuck in the booze.”
“If I had to guess, it might’ve been Patrick. He’s Barbara’s husband. He doesn’t do anything but show up under the guise of protection and then drinks himself into a slumber an hour into the festivities.”
Eve grins looking up to Calum. His gaze has settled behind her, no double keeping tabs on Māra. “For someone who said this wasn’t their scene. You seem to know a lot.”
“Oh,” Calum laughs. “I love the drama. My favorite part of these things were picking Kelsie and Māra up and hearing all the gossip. Last year, someone didn’t keep their daughter’s dress on theme and was nearly refused at the door.”
“So parents don’t have a dress code?”
Calum looks back to Eve. “I don’t think technically they do. The kids who attend do”
“I assume if Barbara’s got anything to say it might be very frowned upon to dress in dark colors.”
“Eve, you look amazing.” He wonders if Eve’s bringing this up because she’s worried. She wouldn’t have known and he didn’t really have a full mind to double check either. With everything else, he didn’t think it would matter what Eve wore. 
Eve shakes her head, turning back. Barbara’s passed on, approaching another group of girls who have huddled together. She passes by their time. “Nice to see you again, Calum. Thanks for bringing Māra back again this year,” she smiles and then continues right now. There’s not even a smile and nod in Eve’s direction. 
Eve raises her brows as the blatant dismissal of her presence. Calum takes Eve’s hand into his. The hold tightens and Eve knows what Calum is begging her: let it go. Please let it go. “I smell a rat,” Eve hisses. 
“Baby, please,” Calum starts. Eve smells something else too. She smells trouble in the water. Eve hopes Barbara enjoys the flattering now. Eve will not be ignored. As petty as it is, she wouldn’t stand for such blatant disrespect. Barbara continues on to make some rounds and then lands at the table with finger foods and drinks. Eve squeezes at Calum’s hand, and then pushes up from the table. 
“Punch?” she asks Calum. Eve doesn’t really wait for a response before heading towards the table with the finger foods and the drinks. This could all fall apart if Calum gets up and follows her. Maybe it should all fall apart. But Eve continues on towards the table. “Lovely event,” Eve returns, grabbing two cups. 
Barbara turns, smiling as she does. “Thank you. I put blood, sweat, and tears each year to make this a lovely event for the girls.”
“Oh, so it’s all you?” Eve questions. The first cup fills and she sets it down before grabbing the second. 
“Yes, yes, a lot of hard work.”
“I hope it continues to pay off each year for you.”
“You-you have to be new around here.” Barbara narrows her gaze just a little. It looks like she might be trying to assess who Eve might be here with, but Eve knows differently. She’s a scrutinizing gaze rooted a little in displeasure. Eve is a beacon in the sea of white and pinks in black. She is clearly disturbing the status quo. 
“Māra, Calum’s daughter. She asked me to be her escort.”
“Oh,” Barbara’s face falls into the perfect picture of sympathy. “Oh, it’s quite sad. Isn’t it? I’m glad she has you though--family is so important in these times. It’s nice when families can rally together. And excuse me, for being rude and prying. It’s just, well,” Barbara gives a tiny grimace decorated around a smile as if that alone will excuse what she’s about to ask. “Māra’s only mentioned having one aunt before. So I mean imagine my confusion when you show up.”
Eve sets the ladle back into the bowl. “Oh, silly me. Māra only has the one aunt on her dad’s side. His sister is a sweetheart but couldn’t make the flight from the UK in time. Excited to see what the rest of the night brings from such excellent ball planning,” Eve returns, plastering a smile on her face. She picks up the drinks and gives a tiny wave from her free fingers before turning back in the direction of the table. Once Eve is six feet or so from the drink table, she drips the fake smile, “Fake bitch.”
Calum’s eyes are zeroed in as she approaches. Māra’s returned to their table and Eve sets a drink down in front of them. “See you met Mrs. Dunkins,” Māra smirks. 
“She’s a big personality,” Eve returns.
“Do I need to be worried?” Calum asks. 
“Oh, I just introduced myself since she left so fast from our table. Good first impressions,” Eve smiles. 
“Your fake smile is good,” Māra giggles into her cup of punch. “You left that table like you could’ve murked her. Thanks for the punch.”
“You’re welcome, Māra.” Eve doesn’t say that she wanted to give Barbara more than just a heart attack. But perhaps the revelation she’d dropped would be enough. A few moments later someone taps at the microphone. The order of the night is read off--a fully catered meal will come after a few speeches. An intermission will be briefly held which will bleed into some dancing. Dancing will be free for everyone first and then the mother-daughter dance will come halfway through. It feels like a full night. 
And it would quicker to go if not for the fact that almost every mother in the place stops at their table. It’s so good to see you marries in with Oh, I love that you’re here. Going to dance with Dad? and that collides in with If you want me to dance with you, Māra during the mother-daughter dance just let me know. You know where to find me. The sentiments are all meant to be pure but each person pours it one after another it starts to feel like cement. It’s sealing up Māra’s throat. By the time she gets her chicken and rice with asparagus on the side, she thinks she might choke just at the sight of the food. 
How will Māra survive with every pitiful stare pinned to her? Can this much sympathy kill a person? Māra smiles at every passing comment because what is she supposed to say? Is she supposed to tell them she’s starting to regret her choice? Is Māra supposed to just nod and give them platitudes like they are giving her? It feels much too transactional. Māra’s starting to second guess how to be human herself. Māra excuses herself to the bathroom, lifting the skirt of her dress just a little to give her a longer stride. She falls into the doors and the brightlight of the hall. 
She finds the bathroom and falls into the sink. Her reflection is watery. Tears. Those are tears. “You’re okay,” she whispers to herself. “You’re okay. They’re just being nice.”
Māra wishes they weren’t being nice. She wishes they’d ignore her. She wishes she could disappear. How did Eve do it? How did she handle the stares? Māra waves in front of a paper towel dispenser and gets a wad before carefully dabbing the rough materials under her eyes. She can do it. Eve does it. Eve keeps her head high when she walked into that room. When Eve approached Mrs. Dunkins, she never dropped her head. Her mother always knew just how to avoid the feathers that could  be so easily ruffled. Eve ruffled them. What would Māra do? Would Māra be able to placate the rest of evening? Would she cause a scene?
“You’re not Eve. You’re not your mother,” Māra exhales. She’s neither one of those women. But those are all the women she knows to replicate. 
Eve keeps her eyes on the doors. Māra’s plate is covered, still waiting for her even though the rest of them have been taken to the kitchen. Eve insisted on keeping it just in case Māra still wanted more. The music is rattling around them, lights low. But Eve keeps her eyes trained on the doors for Māra to come back through them. 
“Do you think she’s okay?” Eve asks. 
“I-I don’t know. But I’m getting nervous too,” he admits. 
“Don’t let them take her plate,” Eve directs to Calum. “I’ll find her.”
The high lights hurt for just a moment and then Eve adjusts her pupils and the amount of pain reduces rapidly. Eve can see where they checked in, the photo station. And then just to the right of the photo’s backdrop and across from the check in tables are the bathroom. Eve carries herself to the doors. The entrance feeds to a corner and when Eve rounds it, she spots Māra leaning against the sinks. Her sniffles echo off the tiles. 
“Mar?” Eve states quietly. 
“I’m okay,” Māra returns. “I just--they kept asking me about that stupid fucking dance. It’s one dance. My mother’s dead. But I don’t, I don’t need all the sympathy. It’s too much.”
Eve’s heels click as crosses to Māra. She’s gentle as she takes hold of Māra’s elbow. “Sweetheart, fuck them. Fuck every single one of them. If you want to dance, if you don’t want to dance, fuck ‘em.”
“Mom would’ve said they were just being nice.”
“And Kelsie would’ve been right. And I would’ve been right too. They are being nice. But fuck them because they don’t know what it feels like to have that much attention. They’re trying to show they care. But fuck them because they’re also expressing that kind sentiment to prove how nice they are and how much they do care. None of them called you. None of them dried your tears. Your dad did. You dried your own tears. But not them. Sure, they want to be nice. But also fuck them and niceties too sometimes.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“I’m not,” Eve answers to the question underneath. “So fuck me too.”
Māra snorts. Eve takes Māra’s hand now. “I-I can’t leave without trying.”
“I won’t leave your side,” Eve promises.
Māra’s grip is tight around Eve’s palm. “You won’t let go?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Eve is careful to clean what she can of Māra’s tears and they return to the auditorium hand in hand. The lights have lifted just a little. Where it’s clear the bodies have been swaying freely they slow. “Mothers, find your daughters. We have two minutes till dance time,” the DJ calls out. 
The entire room shifts. Daughters turning from the groups. Mother’s pushing out of their chairs. Eve squeezes as Māra’s hand and they continue on towards the dancefloor. She prays--to God himself--that he does interrupt this moment. She’d ignore it. This would be a first but she would do it for Māra. They breach the dance floor, the first mother-daughter duo to break the seal. Eve looks to Māra and when Māra looks back, she nods. “You’re okay,” Eve whispers. 
“Thirty seconds to dance,” the DJ calls back out. 
The entire floor floods at the warning. Māra spins to face Eve. They didn’t practice this. Māra and her mother would practice every year before the dance. But not her and Eve. Eve doesn’t seem to hesitate like Māra does. She steps in closer. Māra’s not sure where to put her hands. She always held her mother’s waist, slip her head onto her mother’s shoulder. Could she do the same with Eve? They start initially with a bit of distance. Arms looped around shoulders, they take it slow. It’s awkward. As Māra thinks too much about where her feet are and what this might look like to the outside, she feels hot under the lights. 
Māra, taking in the sight of how deep the pocket around them, trips a little. Eve’s there, arms sliding around her waist to keep her upright. Her body is warm and firm. Māra ducks her head into Eve’s shoulder for a moment. “Everyone’s staring,” she whispers, letting herself follow Eve’s lead now. 
Eve keeps Māra close, letting their arms readjust to the new hold. Māra allows herself to slide in a little closer. It’s not bad, here, feeling as if Māra might be able to hide away in the safety of Eve’s catch. 
“Do I seem like the type people really want to make mad?” Eve whispers back after a beat of silence. 
Māra snorts. There’s the response she was waiting for. When she looks out, chin resting on Eve’s shoulder, Māra can see how there are a lot of stares. But maybe they don’t really matter. Maybe Eve was right. Fuck them. Māra had asked Eve here because she knew Eve wouldn’t care about the stares. Eve would be able to weather the storm.
Eve’s voice is soft as she continues on over the violins. Her chest and throat rumble as she speaks to Māra. “Haven’t you noticed every dress in here is white, cream, blush, ivory, or pink. I am sticking out like a store thumb in black. Let me be your shield. If we’re no longer enemies, let me protect you.”
“You-you can’t protect me. Not when this ends and I go to the meetings. They’ll still talk.”
“Then I’ll come with you, yeah? If they want to talk they’ll have to say it to my face. I think the whole lot of these women are all talk and no bite.” Eve pauses in the sway, but the two of them are still tightly embraced. Would Māra let Eve protect her? Would Māra trust Eve enough? “Aren’t your feet killing you by now in those shoes?”
Mara’s not sure where Eve’s going with the whole question. But something tells Māra she had better be honest with the answer. So she nods. “Yes.”
“Mine too.” Eve pulls away for a moment, before slipping the shoes from her feet. She whistles and it immediately catches Calum’s attention. It undoubtedly catches the attention of everyone else in the vicinity. Calum stands and she waves the shoe before he catches on, hands coming up to catch them. The other stares continue--Māra sees them, stares back at those who are staring for a moment. Mothers and daughters around them all watch Eve spiral her heels--one at a time--across the dance floor to Calum waiting at their table. It’s not a deep throw, but it’s not a toss either. 
He catches them. One after another with ease. Calum doesn’t take a seat though. Eve turns to Mara. “Would you like to get rid of your shoes?”
Māra takes a look around. Let me be your shield. Is this Eve taking the hit? She was the youngest looking by several decades, the most eccentric by a mile even with Māra breaking the length requirement, and now Eve was making an utter fool of herself. But Māra nods and Eve kneels, hiking her dress up as she goes. Her hands are warm on Māra’s ankle but the strap loosen on one shoe and Māra balances on Eve’s shoulder while Eve takes the shoe from underneath her feet. The dance floor is rougher than she anticipated. Her other strap loosen too and when Eve stands, she sends Māra’s heel in a spiral down to Calum too. 
“Don’t you hate having to dance to this music too? I find it rather boring,” Eve huffs. “I mean, this artist has been dead a hundred years at least. There’s got to be something more hip to dance to.”
Māra snorts at Eve’s use of hip. Sure Mar could handle phrases like modern, up to date, but not hip. Hip is trying too hard to be cool. “Eve, I believe it’s meant to be traditional. But I do agree, rather boring,” Māra giggles. 
“I swear they gave me a fourth a chicken breast on my plate on purpose too,” Eve continues on. If Māra’s afraid of being the fool, of looking out of place, Eve will make sure she’s never looked more normal. “Was it the cook trying to tell me I’m fat? Maybe it’s Barbara being cheap.” It’s a low jab, but it does the job. 
Māra’s laughter shakes her shoulders and she pulls herself into Eve. “Thank you,” she whispers in the hug.
Eve’s warmth radiates as she hugs back. “Anytime, Māra.”
“Let’s-let’s get out of here. I think I’d rather get a quarter pounder with extra cheese than deal with this. It’s not the same with mom, and you’re great. But I think it’s okay to let it go.”
Māra finds herself rooting into Eve’s touch even when the older woman tilts her chin back. “Your mother would be proud that you tried to come even without her. I told you I’d be a poor replacement for your mother. But what I should’ve said is that I’m a poor replacement because there is no replacing your mother. She is and will always be your mother. She will always be the one to handle debutantes like a true queen. She will always be the person who taught you how to do your makeup. I’m more like the drunk aunt. I can cause quite the scene but it is never filled with grace.”
“Maybe I just need a drunk aunt, then.”
“Maybe you do. Can I be that?”
Māra nods. Her eyes are misty but she so appreciates that Eve is not looking to replace her mother. She’d said it at this point almost a year ago when they were first introduced. But it just always felt like Eve was supposed to slot into that role. Who would Māra be without her mother or a mother figure? Maybe she would just be Māra. But right now, there’s nothing that will fit the hole her mother left behind. Eve was a square peg and Māra was trying to slot her into a round hole. 
“Yeah, can you just be my drunk aunt who gets me out of this place and to a Macca’s?” Māra had grown fond of that particular Australian slang and used it no matter which crowd she was with. 
Eve’s grin makes the skin around her eyes crinkle. “It would be my honor.” Eve slips an arm around Mara’s shoulder and walks her to the edge of the dancefloor, around the deserted tables to where Calum’s seated. 
He stands as they approach, noticing the way Māra’s chin wobbles. “Sweetpea,” he coos, taking her into his chest. 
“We need a Macca’s stat,” Eve relays, slipping back into her heels and grabbing Mar’s from the floor. “We don’t have time for shoes.”
“No time for shoes?” he snickers. They had plenty of time to get shoes on, but he doesn’t debate Eve. 
“No time,” Māra agrees, but she moves over to Eve. 
Eve slips the cape off her shoulders and hands it alongside Mara’s shoes to Calum before turning so her back faces Mar. “Hop on,” she directs, squatting down just a little. Mar gives a test push Eve’s shoulder and Eve holds steady. Then Māra leaps. Eve hooks her arms behind her knee caps, the dress not seeming to be an issue for either one of them. Calum watches Eve carry Māra on her back for a few steps and then realizes they’re leaving right now. He ensures he has his keys and wallet still in his suit jacket pocket alongside all their phones in his pants pocket. Both Eve and Māra had forgone purses and while it was a lot to juggle. He’s grateful his pockets are deep on his pants. Calum half jogs to catch up. Eve doesn’t so much as waver as she passes through the auditorium’s double doors. 
Calum gets ahead and holds the building door open as well. “I still think we had plenty of time for shoes,” he returns. 
He knows he’s poking the bull maybe a little. But his heart is going wild in his chest. Eve’s grinning as she carries Māra with ease and Māra, who originally looked five seconds from tears, smiles too. He’s not sure what happened on that dancefloor. He was watching them one minute, then catching heels the next. He thought maybe it was all good and settled back down. Now, the two of them are here: Māra being carried on Eve’s back. 
Māra laughs as she bobs just a little. “But this is ten times more fun. Also, I had no clue Eve was this strong. Like she’s not even shaking carrying me.”
“No, Eve is pretty strong. Doesn’t look it, but she is.” He unlocks the car doors as they approach and helps Mara get into the car without her bare feet touching the parking lot. She accepts her shoes and Eve’s cape as well. Calum knows all too well the drill and fishes out her phone too. It clacks with all the charms attached, but at least he never has to worry if he got his phone mixed up with hers. 
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course, sweetpea. Watch the cape,” he says gently. Mar makes sure to get all of Eve’s cape into the truck and then guides the door closed. 
“What happened? Why are we leaving?” Calum questions, pausing yet again tonight on Eve’s door to open it. 
“I gave her a scapegoat,” Eve answers. “Every mother in that building is either fake or spineless. It starts with Barbara and the entire crop is spoiled because of her. She ignores me. Then makes a comment about not knowing Māra had another aunt. She gets suffocated by sympathy and then when we dance everyone is staring. I gave Māra what she needed. If she thinks they were going to gossip just because of how I looked or how I dressed, then they will surely have a field day tomorrow or next week or next meeting to talk about me. But if there’s anything I could do for your daughter, it is going to be that I could protect her. They can talk all they want about me now, but they surely won’t have anything to say about her.”
“You-you took the hit,” Calum concludes. He wondered why Eve started to throw shoes, but again, he was going to question it. Was it proper etiquette? No, even Calum knows that, but he’ll be damned if he tries to undermine Eve. 
“I’d do it again.”
He noticed the looks too. He didn’t want to say anything in the event that Māra didn’t notice them. But she had. Because of course she would notice them. They were hard to miss as everyone’s head turned in their direction time after time. It was starting to get predictable. Perhaps a fake good impression and tossed heels are the best outcome for a situation that might’ve been doomed from the start. 
But Eve had done something Calum couldn’t do. He couldn’t make everyone else in that room understand. He couldn’t make everyone else in that room stop looking. But Eve--Eve knows that when you can’t beat them, you join them. She made herself a shield so when the sword hit, it hit her. Not Māra. Of course, Māra wouldn’t be completely spared. But she’d always been protected as much as she could have been. It is not perfect. They could’ve made a quiet exit. They could’ve slipped away. The rumors would circle how Māra left during the mother-daughter dance--how sad about her grief still. But the story would be much livelier now. Māra would’ve attempted the challenge head on. They don’t need perfection when they have earnesty. 
 Calum takes Eve’s cheeks between his palms. Eve’s lips purse together just a little with the pressure. “I love you,” he whispers. “Thank you for looking out for Māra. Thank you for being there when I couldn’t. Thank you for doing the things I can't do sometimes.” Like causing a scene on purpose. Like calling Barbara out for what she is. Like giving Māra the space to take something head on, fail, but still have fun. 
Eve wraps her fingers around Calum’s wrists, and squeezes. “I love you. I do it with honor. Always.”
The kiss is short--in all relative time, they’re lips are not together longer than a few seconds. But the window’s motor whirs and the glass slides down. “I love love,” Māra teases, leaning her head out of the window.
Eve is the first one to break in the kiss. Her laughter shakes her and she turns ever so slightly to look at Māra. “Are we talking too long?”
“No, no, now that I’m out of the dance. I don’t really care. But I do want that quarter pounder.”
Calum laughs next. It was Māra’s way of saying at least some time tonight. He presses two more kisses to Eve’s cheek and then pulls away to open the passenger side door for Eve. “Okay, Macca’s. Got it. We’re going. I’m clearly way too distracted for Mar’s taste.”
Māra holds the greasy brown bag securely in her lap, rustling through the items stacked inside. “Three fries. Two burgers. One ten piece nugget with barbecue sauce,” she calls out. 
“I have one sweet seat, one coke, one bottle of water,” Eve rattles off. Satisfied none of their items are missing, Calum nods and then sets off back for the house. 
The night is thick, but the crinkle of the bag in Māra’s hand as she walks up the front steps is enough to cut through it. It feels a little less suffocating for Māra now. The balls would be too full of her mother. Everyone there would still be comparing something that had been lost and never gained again. Pointless for them to circle around because Māra’s not there anymore. She’s not sure where she is, but she knows where she is not. Māra is not the same girl to go to balls with her mother anymore. Māra might be the girl to dress in fancy clothes and get burgers. She might be the girl to call up Eve just to complain. She night the girl who still misses her mother but can let the miss wash over and ride through, but not consume. 
The trio of them don’t make it further than the couch. Eve does make a run to the linen closet to grab some towels for Calum and Māra. The last thing she wants for them is to get ketchup on their white clothes. But she makes quick work to come back to the couch in the end. Māra pats the cushion next to her and Eve holds out a towel before settling down. 
There are few words as they work down their respective meals until Māra sucks down another sip of her coke. “Hey, Eve?”
“Yes, Māra?” Eve returns, polishing off the last of her nuggets. 
“What’s your workout regime? I wanna be buff too.”
“It starts when you piss off God.”
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rainydawgradioblog · 2 years
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New Blawgger: What I Listened to in March of 2022
Hello everyone! For my first Blawg, I thought I would share what interesting things I listened to last month, including stuff that I just discovered and stuff that I had entirely forgotten about and had the pleasure of re-listening to. I chose 10 to put here, but I’ve got a complete playlist:
"Raw" – Big Daddy Kane
Big Daddy Kane was one of the MCs to come out of the explosion of hip hop in the late 80s, an era where it felt as if the genre was making decades of progress every few months. Unfortunately, Kane seems to have been forgotten compared to the rappers that came just after him like Nas or Kool G Rap, but his best material holds up today. “Raw” is a cut of classic boom-bap with killer lyricism and wordplay for days.
"Yereyira" – Papito & Iba One
If you recognize this at all, it’s because it was sampled by Death Grips on “Get Got”, but you’d be surprised to find out that it originates from Northwest Africa. In the late 2000s and early 2010s, music was spread throughout the Sahara in a file-sharing network on Nokia cellphones, the most popular of which was compiled on the Music from Saharan Cellphones releases. This track is a Southern US-inspired rap song with possibly one of the most maddeningly catchy choruses I’ve ever heard (in a good way). I can’t speak for what the lyrics are about as I can’t find any translations, but the flows are fantastic, and the performances are filled with undeniable confidence and swagger. Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of this song is how it demonstrates the reincorporation of newer African-descended musical forms into older ones: hip hop is descended from the musical forms of West Africa, and when returned there, it feels completely transformed and revitalized.
"Left Hand Path" – Entombed
And here we get into my new love: Swedish death metal! If your only familiarity with the genre is Cannibal Corpse, then you’re in for a treat: riffs that manage to be melodic, but still sinister with a guitar tone that buzzes like a feral beast. The vocals from a then-17 LG Petrov (RIP) complement the atmosphere perfectly, but the real treat is just how well-structured this track is, every change-up adding some kind of intensity and tension and feeling fresh the whole way through. If you’ve never gotten into extreme music before, this probably isn’t the place to start, but if you want the cream of the crop, here it is.
"Trapped in a Corner" – Death
I hope that y’all have been patient with my metal indulgence in this article, so here’s the last of it. The late great Death have probably one of the most consistently amazing catalogues in all of music, with the album this song is on fitting squarely in the middle of their transition from old-school death metal to a more philosophical, progressive sound. This track has some surprisingly melodic riffs and guitar solos that I would even describe as beautiful (not a word that usually characterizes extreme metal).
"How Come You’re Such a Hit with the Boys, Jane?" – Dolly Mixture
Definitely whiplash from the previous entry, but much more accessible. Dolly Mixture are a deep-cut indie pop group from the first wave of the genre in the early-mid 80s. They never got as much attention as their contemporaries like They Might Be Giants, the Smiths, or even Felt, but they deserve it just as much. This song is a great little cheeky 60s girl group throwback that will win you over with its charm and funny lyricism. The spoken-word segment is the cherry on top – a moment of equal parts satire and snide venom.
"La Vida Mejor" – La Vida Boheme
Something that you’ve seen and will continue to see from me is that I’m a huge fan of non-Western rock – while I feel that the American and UK scenes are somewhat stagnant, there’s far more interesting material coming out of South America, Africa, Eastern Europe, and Asia. This band is from Venezuela, and this song is their hit from the Latin Grammy-nominated album Será, an ambitious politically charged modern indie classic which unfortunately has gotten almost no traction stateside. “La Vida Mejor” is an energetic dance-rock song full of distinctly Latin touches, especially in the energetic horns.
"Kodak Moment" – dltzk
They’ve already gotten a lot of attention in the online electronic underground, but if you haven’t checked them out already, dltzk (pronounced “deletezeek”) is worth doing so. Their songwriting combines a wide variety of very modern influences from emo to hyperpop. This song is a perfect encapsulation of their oeuvre, featuring catchy melodies with warped vocals and glistening keys getting split apart by extreme electronic glitch-noise (and, funnily enough, a sample of the Nintendo 3DS startup sound). The combination of levity and gravity in the lyrics, where a serious discussion of lost time runs into an oddly poignant Sharkboy and Lavagirl quote, perfectly captures the contradictions at the heart of Generation Z: doped up on cheap media, we attempt to find the beating heart at its core, recontextualizing the profane into the sacred and the meaningless into the center of our identity.
"Cellphone Machine" – Yun Head
If you’ve heard the name Yun Head, it’s probably from some…let’s just say less-than-stellar meme rap, but Austin Santiago has recently started to take music much more seriously, first with the Oat album last year, and now with the even-better Forever’s Forecast Demo single. The B-Side is the real draw here, a hyper-dense glitch pop love ballad (?) full of jazz-electronica touches and some hazy-yet-powerful bedroom production. Even though the lyrics are buried underneath layers of fuzz, the musical swells perfectly capture some kind of all-consuming warmth: the only line I can understand is "I can't help myself; he's the most beautiful person" - whether romantic or otherwise, it's a sentiment that the song conveys perfectly. At only 17, Yun has proven himself to be a fantastic producer with potential that I only think he's begun to reach. I'd stay tuned for what he has in store next.
"Congratulations" – The J. Arthur Keenes Band
If there’s a deep, obscure online underground, then the J. Arthur Keenes Band are underrated even there. A one-man Canadian indie project by Dan McLay that’s been putting out albums for over 10 years now, the J. Arthur Keenes Band features some of the best melodies and ingenious chord progressions I’ve heard anywhere, and their Beach Boys-meets chiptune sound is unique. Don’t let the cheerful sound fool you—McLay’s lyrics are dark and introspective (and unfortunately much too relatable). I'm not sure whether the searing sarcasm that runs through this song is directed towards someone else or McLay himself, but the weariness and fear of inadequacy at its core manages to be as terrifying as the music seems uplifting on its surface. Only the indie-pop noise which smothers the track hints at the venom underneath. Compared with the aforementioned "Cellphone Machine", it demonstrates just how versatile of a format lo-fi can be.
"Ceaseless Inexhaustible Child" – Ambrose Akinmusire
It seems as if contemporary jazz is unfairly locked away from the musical mainstream, only discussed by jazz musicians themselves or whenever a jazz musician features on a higher-profile album in a different genre. As such, Ambrose Akinmusire’s 2014 album The Imagined Savior is Far Easier to Paint deserves to be brought out of the shadows and come into the running of not only one of the best jazz albums of the year, but of all time. This song, dedicated to Cyntoia Brown, is tender, passionate, and beautiful beyond words. It’s a meditation on youth and its disappearance, the way that oppression affects marginalized children, and yet how they manage to stay strong in the face of seemingly insurmountable societal devastation. The vocal performance from Ladan Hussein is reminiscent of Nina Simone’s “Little Girl Blue”: melancholic, compassionate, and yet full of hope. Combined with the deeply expressive cries of Akinmusire’s trumpet, and you have an emotional tour-de-force which can wring tears out of even the most hardened hearts.
I’ll be writing about some of my other discoveries in another column called “Rock of Elsewhere” which will focus more on international artists. Stay tuned.
Stefan
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trouble-in-space · 2 years
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hi there !! love ur ships they r so well written. would you mind if I get an outsiders ship and a harry potter ship?
gender : female
sexuality : straight
sign : pisces
personality
definitely can be seen as outgoing from first impression. i do tend to talk a lot, especially if around friends/people im comfy with
im pretty laidback in the scheme of things, often just going with what everyone else would like to do
despite that I am quite opinionated about things that are important to me!! i will stand by my opinion and defend it.
can be aloof at times, unless I’m genuinely focused
i do enjoy time with friends, but I love my alone time. it’s very comforting to me
sarcasm. i can have a mean streak at times, intentionally or unintentionally.
book smart, not street smart. not even necessarily “street” but as in common sense. i lack it a lot of the time lmao
phys description
tan skin w little freckles on nose
hazel/green eyes. majorly green, with a brown ring on the inside! my eyes are odd though, they tend to change colors (ik sounds weird, but it does happen) have specks in random spots as well. like freckles in my eye !
brown curly hair! not coils, but curled
i dress generally in stuff I find cute; you could call it a “basic” style but just as manh girls do! crop tops, shorts, etc. I do love hoodies tho
5’4 with a slimmer build. not quite an hourglass but somewhat. big tits lmaoo
extra
i love dogs / animals in general
coffee, specifically chai is my fav
i am obsessed w sunsets
i am involved in lots of sports! soccer mainly
house for hp is hufflepuff
probably would be middle class in the outsiders! not a greaser, but rather a soc that’s not insanely rich.
Hi hon! Thank you, i hope you like these!!<3
The Outsiders: Immediate Sodapop vibes!! He’s also pretty laidback so I think thats something that would work for you guys. He’s opinionated but he doesn't always stand up for things that he believes strongly in (I feel like he's easy to sway yk) so he’ll definitely learn a little from you in that aspect. He’d totally love your style because its cute but also because you just wear what you like. He’s going to every single one of your soccer games and will drag some of the gang along just because he's so proud of you. He’s totally obsessed with animals too, so dogs will be a must. Soda definitely has a thing for soc girls so you not being a greaser wouldn't matter to him! Sunset dates are a weekly occurrence with Sodapop. 
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Harry Potter: Fred Weasley! He loves how outgoing you are because he is too! He’d totally use your laid-backness against you nil, like he'd make you help him with his pranks by tricking you into agreeing and shit. He gets your sarcasm and doesn't mind your mean streak, I don't think he'd mind really. Fred’s not really book smart but he is street smart so you guys could balance each other out. Loves your hair and takes every chance he gets to point out how much shorter you are than him, but in a sweet way. Initially I don't think he'd really like coffee but if you consistently make him drink it he’ll come around and LOVE it. Since you're involved in sport I feel like you'd probably play quidditch at Hogwarts. He gets very competitive with you, all in good fun tho. If Hufflepuff wins against Gryffindor he’ll sulk for a week straight but he’s happy for you at the same time.
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gaykarstaagforever · 2 months
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In anticipation of DMing, I got all worked up trying to make quickdraw combat charts for common enemies and worried I wasn't going to remember how to do the rolls. But then in the 7 hour session the two players did combat exactly once, against scared teenagers who didn't even fight back, because I made it a non-magical world and they were terrified of getting crippled by damage.
Which was me bloody POINT. If everyone wants to battle all the time, go play a battle card game. Roleplaying means playing a role, and not everyone should be "the sociopath who hits everyone". What kind of shit story would that make? And even the person in the world who acts like that should pay dearly for it, for the sake of everyone else.
"YEAH BUT THIS IS FANTASY! I WANT TO UNWIND BY CASTING FIREBALLS AND STABBING DRAGONS!"
Fine. And some people in the real world unwind by murdering and butchering woodland creatures they don't need for food. And I don't enjoy that, either.
I get wanting to hit things when you're mad, and wanting to feel powerful when you're feeling powerless. But if that is all you're interested in exploring...maybe deal with the circumstances that are leading to you being so angry about being kicked around all the time? Because if you're using roleplaying as free emotional therapy, it 100% becomes that to you. Which means you NEED it to be that. Which means if it ever isn't that, then you don't get your release, and now you're feeling pent-up and deprived, that someone has STOLEN your medicine from you, which makes them your ENEMY, and...!
This is why people send death threats when Star Wars doesn't have enough wordless lightsaber duels. This is why some Tolkien-loving racists yell about how it is a personal attack on them that they're suddenly not allowed to use this fantasy world to pretend Black people aren't a thing anymore. This is why there are 40 year old men who bothered everyone for YEARS because we didn't agree with them that a movie where the Joker kills people because he mad, no gf, is somehow insightful social commentary.
Combat encounters and item fetch quests are a part of roleplaying, to give people stuff to do. But as is cliché, the real treasure is the friends we make along the way. Or how we creatively destroy our enemies so totally we never have to deal with their bullshit ever again. And that's all politics and diplomacy and maintaining a consistent reputation.
It is playing a role, on an adventure. People who kill hundreds of wolves and bandits outside of a video game world aren't badass heroes, they're the monsters the real heroes are trying to put down.
Also what kind of human government in a fantasy universe lets packs of OP randos wonder over private land, engaging in pitched magic-and-poison battles in the middle of standing crops, leaving looted corpses to rot all over? What even is the point of having a government if you pay taxes to it and it lets this shit go on? The suspension of disbelief demanded here undercuts the fun of any of this. I don't care what I do or about this world because it is arbitrary and amoral and nonsensical.
Lex Luthor is a great supervillain for Superman literally because Superman could easily murder him in an instant, but if he does that he's the bad guy, so instead he has to stand by and let Luthor fuck with him. And Lex does. But Superman is so much more powerful than Lex that Lex has to struggle to constantly come up with new ways to get around him. That's a rich relationship to mine. Forcing them to interact with these limitations is exciting, to see how they're going to navigate through that.
Plus let's be honest, here. Violent power fantasies require the person having the fantasy to be the ONE person getting to do that. People want to be Merlin and Conan, they don't want to be one of the 200,000 guys running around armed with the same ice spell and dragonbone sword. No one fantasizes about being just another mundane whoever, but now in a place with minotaurs. So why do people run campaigns that are 100% that? Even in your supposed exciting fantasy adventure where you are The One, you aren't The Only One. Who the hell wants to play working their way up to being The President of Wizards?
I want to be THE wizard! Otherwise you've just added spellcasting to petty workplace politics. Now who is ruining fantasy with mundane real-world shit?
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db-reviews · 1 year
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#135 - Blissard - Motorpsycho (1996)
Previous albums in the Motorpsycho lineage were experimental in direction, with songs being very jammy and less compositionally structured in a lot of ways. This fact gave the band a more D.I.Y feel to their music which I liked. However after moving to a different label after the release of The Tussler, Motorpsycho decided to create an album that experimented less of brainstorming and jamming with a focus of songwriting, composing, and working more on their newly founded Psychedelic Indie Rock sound they discovered in Timothy’s Monster. As a result, we would get Blissard in 1996.
There are a lot of things I like about this album, but there are also some things I am too fond of. I will say, for starters on the things I like about this album, that album cover really does help the album a lot in my opinion. I think besides the modern trio of The Tower, The Crucible, and The All Is One (which I’ll review soon), this is probably my favorite Motorpsycho album cover. The blurry image of a Mickey Mouse doll in a weirdly cropped black square with a scribble (probably a signature) on top is so jarring that the more I look at it the more I begin to love it. It gives off the perfect sense for this album, being this blurry idea that I do not even think the band would know how it’d turn out, similar to how, say, Walt Disney had the idea for Mickey Mouse in the 1920s.
The result of the more compositional effort on this album is a more structured, slightly pop sounding idea for the band to tackle, though some songs like True Middle and S.T.G are slightly out of favor with this sort of pop mythos the album creates. What I like about this is that, because of this, it is a very easy album to get into. There are a lot of hooks in each song that makes it so this record can catch your attention, whether it is with the hard pounding Sinful, Wind-Born or the expertly crafted Greener. Each song as a whole gives this accessible, but still experimental energy.
As a whole piece, I think this is the most structured, and consistent Motorpsycho album to date, with even tracks like True Middle carrying the same weight as the last song, and the song afterwards doing the same. It veers slightly away from this consistency in certain moments, but overall I think this is the most consistently crafted album Motorpsycho has ever produced.
However I think some of the charm that previous Motorpsycho albums had are lost in the consistent and compositional direction. I liked the more brainstorming work that Demon Box and Timothy’s Monster provided, and such having it be lost in this record, while just for a moment, is pretty sad in my opinion. My favorite thing about Motorpsycho jamming works is that even though the band is merely improv, their sense of structure helps those songs to feel more worthwhile. Here, that sense is lost and while I think every song here (minus the last track) are very good, they do not have that Motorpsycho charm to them.
Though, I think the album has a lot more improvements than faults from their original sound. The more effective song writing, lyricism, and composition does help the band to create more profound and powerful music that they’ll implement more in later releases. This album is the band’s maturity album, growing more highly tuned with their newly founded sounds and styles and as a result a turning point for the band’s expertly crafted career.
While I think as a try and true Motorpsycho album this is pretty weak, but as a compositional and structured effort this album is very good in what the group wanted to do. While I cannot say this is an absolute must listen for any Motorpsycho fan, it is a definitive turning point for the band that shouldn’t be overlooked. Like Mickey Mouse, sometimes an experiment can be a gemstone in a rough time.
4/5
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