#the cottage was right on the lake so i slept like a rock hearing the waves and watching them at night

[denbroughbill]

chapter 1 of “sky so blue”

word count 2.3k

author’s note based on the hc i wrote that recieved positive feedback! the medieval times written are not completely accurate just to be a little humorous and have fun with this story :) the lowercase letters are intended. also please let me know if the paragraph spacing is awkward! i’m working from tumblr mobile

there was a crooked, tiny, wooden cottage on the outskirts of the town of derry. the ivies outside had overgrown, wrapped around themselves and found comfort in the cracks of the house’s walls, making it an unruly sight to by-passers, but the owners enjoyed it that way. inside, there were shelves upon shelves lining the walls. they had books that were not in order and glass bottles of different shapes and sizes, filled with adder’s tongue, baby’s breath, and dragon’s blood.

this is where beverly lived.

beverly was a young woman, fair skin and face splattered with freckles, who was shunned when she cut her own hair with the blade of a sharp sword, offering her auburn locks wrapped in a tight braid to the norse goddess, frigg, ruler of marriage and love.

and it worked.

beverly’s partner ben was a blacksmith, who worked closely with the kingdom — their go-to man when armor and weapons required repair, which spared beverly from being burned at the stake for her witchcraft. he worked outside in their shed behind the cottage which held his swage block and hammers and bellows and drifts.

in the afternoons, there was a man in a hooded cloak. he would bring gifts of fresh bread and candles for ben and beverly, and ben would allow him inside.

his name was prince edward.

prince edward walked from his castle to visit beverly and ben, walked for hours starting at night until he could begin to see the sun rise on the horizon. at one point before, his feet would ache with every step he took, but he was used to this now. he had no fear in his mind or heart when he would look towards the village and see the dim lights from the houses, and he would set off on his trek to the village.

sometimes he would look back, though. he would look back at this fantastic castle, towering over the meek rest of the village. his grey eyes narrowed in anger, he looked back in disgust.

he did not have to duck under the ivy leaves that reached out to touch him or the herb plants in hanging pots. he was a smaller man, and looking up at the dangling plants was similar to looking at the chandeliers that adorned the castle.

candles were lit for edward’s arrival, and beverly smiled her all-knowing smile, beckoning him closer.

“so we meet again, edward.”

edward rolled his eyes in good humor, sitting on the wooden stool across from beverly, her work space separating the two.

“bev, please, i told you to call me eddie.”

eddie liked beverly because they shared the same belief system that the natural riches of the earth and their loved ones were worth more than anything. prince eddie was never one to decorate himself in silver or jewels; to him, every rock was precious, every ray of light golden.

she removed the clear crystal from the top of her deck of cards and began to shuffle. she had eddie shuffle the cards, too, filling them with his energy, thinking about the longing question he wanted beverly to reveal the answer to.

being a prince kept him hopelessly cut off from the rest of the beautiful world, and romance was something he constantly found himself craving. he never let those thoughts disturb him, for he knew that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. sometimes eddie wished that his prince charming would come rescue him from his dismal world of passivity. he would take him traveling all around the world, and he would assist him as he made his kingdom a better place. after one month, he would take his hand in his, kneel on one leg, pull out a wonderful diamond ring, and ask for his hand in marriage.

“this is the queen of swords — reversed,” beverly laid down a card on the table in front of eddie. pictured was the queen of swords, sitting on a stone throne, holding a sword in her right hand. this card was upside down.

“there is a treacherous enemy. a resentful, cold-hearted person blocking your relationships and clouding your vision.”

eddie shook his head, laughing, “that’s just my mom, bev.” she has also been shown as the queen of pentacles and the devil.

beverly pulled other cards. the queen of swords ruled over eddie’s chance of ever reaching the sun, the seven of swords, and the lovers.

he sighed.

“maybe you could try a different question? want a hex spell?” beverly asked with a friendly smile.

eddie thought to himself. there could be glass shards, dead scorpions, vinegar, or garlic in the jar. if he said yes, beverly would probably instruct him to cook his mom’s hair while she slept. or worse, an eyeball.

he politely declined. “hm, maybe some other time, beverly.”

“hey, stick around for a while,” ben placed his heavy hand on eddie’s shoulder. his warm smile brightened his coal-blackened face.

eddie thanked them both but decided it was time to leave.

treading through the grass once more, eddie thought the fortress of kaspbrak itself was a fine castle, built with a panorama of the surrounding land. from the towers once stood medieval watchers, quiver and arrow ready to fly, and moss clung to the ancient walls in the shade, which reminded him of beverly’s cottage.

he made it back before suppertime. the halls were bustling with activity, but the click of the heels of his leather boots on the tile floor stopped them in their tracks. there was complete silence except for the sound of eddie walking through the halls and his personal butler walking towards him.

“good evening, william.”

“you muh-must change for supper.”

the suits of armor and framed oil portraits of elders towered over the both of them.

he liked william a lot. his mother had lined the potential workers in front of him one day and allowed him to chose his person butler himself. the rest were picked off to work the courtyard grounds and cook meals.

eddie picked william because he was close to his age. he liked his red hair and blue eyes, and sometimes william visited eddie in his daydreams of marriage. eddie also thought he would look better in the gold lacework and rich embroidery clothes eddie had to wear. william liked how eddie allowed him to spend time in the courtyard when he was not tending to the prince; he thought he was kinder than the queen, and they became good friends.

but neither would allow eddie’s mother to hear the boys call each other out of their formal names or whisper and laugh together, nor would they let her majesty see william pick loose leaves and twigs out of eddie’s blonde hair.

there was no need to question the prince; he was obviously visiting beverly again. there was a long, painstakingly unnecessary spiral staircase that led to where eddie slept.

william ushered him ahead, opening the heavy wooden door to his chambers. he would be back to fetch eddie when he was dressed properly.

prince eddie stood in front of the open window, head perched in his hands as he watched the bright, clear lake shimmer in what was left of the sun. he wondered frequently why he had to dress for the occasion of sitting across the incredibly long table, where food was in such abundance that it looked more like decoration, for just him and his mother to eat. it made him angry, the thought of food going to waste as the queen at the opposite head of the table rubbed her full, plump stomach.

a voice called out from below him and pulled eddie out of his thoughts. “could you help me out?”

“oh, yes. my apologies,” eddie said. reaching outside the window, he grasped the clothed covered hand of a man.

he screamed and jumped backwards, reality setting in now. there was a stranger climbing the cobblestone walls of the castles, how had he not noticed? was this thief foolish enough to climb through the prince’s chambers to steal from the bottlery? was this planned — had he chosen this window, knowing it was the prince’s, to hold him hostage? he hoped william had heard him.

eddie stood with his back against his wardrobe, fist tightening around the door knob. he fought between the thoughts of fighting to the death or flinging the door open and hunkering down small, hiding himself between long silk robes and hidden jewels. he understood now why the thief had chose his chambers.

the man acted quickly. with the boost eddie had given him, he was able to grab hold of the edge of the windowsill and climb through the window.

and before prince eddie could grab the glass candelabra from his bedside table and wield it as a defense weapon, there was a man standing in his room.

eddie did not care how well-dressed this man was — there was an intruder in the castle. and he didn’t care how tall, dark, or handsome he was, either.

he could not cut, thrust, or slash with the candelabra, but he was willing to try. his knuckles were turning white from his tight grip. eddie didn’t have to pretend to be brave; he could call for a servant or guard immediately, but then the mysterious man could attack. he noticed the actual sword in the man’s bronze scabbard, and his eyes widened.

the man firmly placed his hand on eddie’s mouth before he could call out and wrapped an arm around his waist. eddie clawed at the gloved hand for his life as fear and dread swirled in his stomach. he’s watched his mother force two townsfolk to fight to the death for entertainment rather than call for the jester. the sight was evil, twisted, and bloody, and eddie did not want stains like those on the finest silk of the land. he tried his best to fight back and squirm, but his grasp was too tight.

“i don’t want to hurt you.” eddie stopped struggling when he loosened his grasp, but still trembled in fear. the man let out a soft laugh, and his voice was smooth and soft spoken, but strong somehow, like he wanted eddie to believe him. he removed the hand from eddie’s mouth, and placed it on firmly on his shoulder, other hand on his waist now.

he was taller than eddie, with dark skin, strong shoulders, and brown cassiterite eyes – heart-stopping eyes that flickered when he said, “i want to marry you.”

“oh,” eddie laughed, slapping the man’s chest in a manner that said, ‘how foolish of me.’ “why didn’t you just say so?”

they leaned closer, a faint smile on the man’s lips and eddie giggled under his breath. when he thought of his moment before, he thought he would be in a horse drawn carriage, or whisked away on the back of a white, noble steed. he didn’t even know this man’s name, but butterflies in his stomach told him there was no time for introductions now.

as their lips drew closer, there was a knock on the door.

“the queen is wuh-waiting for you to accompany her.”

“okay, you hide in here,” eddie whispered, grabbing the man by his lapel. he forced him inside his wardrobe. “what’s your name?”

“michael, prince edward.” michael responded, silk hanging over his face now.

“okay, mike, i’ll be right back.”

eddie plastered his most charming smile onto his face, forcing himself to enjoy eating in the grand dining hall with his mother. at least stanley’s performance was enjoyable.

eddie called him stan for short, and he had sunken eyes and curly hair and what eddie thought to be a rather lovely nose. the entertainment consisted of satire and self-deprecating humor, but he was nice. eddie also thought it was silly when he danced with his scepter and the bells from his hat jingled. stan was loyal and friendly, and even the queen enjoyed his company. she even consulted with him once to make strategies for battle— stan had agreed with everything she said because he believed she just wanted to hear herself talk.

supper ended, and eddie did not protest about all the food that had gone to waste, partly because mike was waiting in his wardrobe, and partly because he knew what his mother would say; “that's how hierarchy works.”

the halls were nearly deserted, and only their shadows followed as eddie strolled with mike, hand-in-hand, showing him every inch of the castle. he learned that michael hanlon was a farmer who worked in the fields under the blistering sun from dawn until dusk. he assured him he wouldn’t have to do that anymore, his smile as warm as the candles and lanterns illuminated around them.

“and this is our oubliette. this is where my mother leaves prisoners to die.”

mike gasped. “that’s kind of cool.”

“what does that mean?”

“i don’t know.” they both laugh.

eddie sighed, heartfelt and knees weak. “oh, mike, i’ve had so much fun getting to know you. i can’t wait until we marry,” he said, bringing mike’s hands to his chest. then he exclaimed with a brilliant idea, like if the light bulb had been invented then and it was dangling over his head.

“let’s marry tomorrow! at sunset!”

the excited gasp brought attention to the pair, alerting the guards that there a intruders afoot. eddie thought fast, and pulled the two into a small, dark corridor. he wasn’t afraid of his guards by any means, it was his mother he feared. and he did not particularly need to sneak mike around, but it was kind of fun.

they were pressed together, breathing heavily from the anticipation of being caught. their faces drew closer, laughing softly, and the image of doves flying crossed eddie’s mind as they kissed.

prince edward had always seen beverly and ben kiss, but he never knew what it felt like. a surge of energy and passion from being engulfed in this kiss made him think he should’ve asked beverly for a love potion years ago. he never wanted this moment to end.

and it wouldn’t, as they would be married at sunset tomorrow. eddie could not think of a single thing that would ruin their nuptials. taglist: @reddiesetrichie, @veganmikehanlon, @bumblerea, @eddiessecondfannypack, @tinyarmedtrex, @jwilliambyers, @edstozler, @eddiecare, @stephenskings, @constantreaderfool, @imeddie, @kaymcgivemeacall, let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

#mike hanlon #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #stan uris #it fanfiction #my writing

[armltagehux]

yep so I wanted some dad!Ben fluff so here we go. 

(set in the same verse as All That I Have but you don’t need to read it to understand this little ficlet)

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Rey hangs back by the doorway, gazing at her husband. The room is still covered in a hushed silence, the sleepy sounds of morning as the sun rises over the horizon outside their bedroom windows. He sits in a rocking chair, tiny bundle of blankets in his arms. Their daughter, Padmé. She’d awakened when Rey climbed out of bed, her tiny little senses attuned to her mother, waking with her and sleeping with her, like they shared a part of each other. Ben found it intriguing and beautiful.

He nods, no words needed. It’s taken him weeks, but he’s finally gotten used to the idea that he wasn’t going to break her, that his large hands and strong arms wouldn’t crush her. He loved her too much. He was going to use that strength and size to support her, boost her up, give her a life he could only dream of when he was a child.

Padmé snoozes against his chest, her gentle breath a soothing noise in his ear. His hand splays across her entire back, and she’s warm against him. Content.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” Rey whispers.

Ben knows why she needs to go; she’s needed to help the Galactic Alliance, to work with Holdo and Leia and other senators to really push their efforts forward. Rey needs to represent the Resistance, those opposed to the First Order, and she needs to start enacting change.

It’s the first time he’ll be completely alone with their daughter for more than a few minutes.

Now, he’ll be alone with her for a full week.

Leaving is difficult for Rey for the same reason it’s terrifying for Ben; she’s never been away from her daughter for so long. She’s filled with terror, that something will happen and she’ll never come back and Padmé will wonder why her mother never came home. Rey cried the first day she realized she’d have to be away, that her daughter could potentially feel that cold sting of abandonment.

But Ben had held Rey and reassured her, promised that nothing would go wrong, that Rey would come back and Padmé would be none the wiser that she’d left for a week.

“We promised she’d never be lonely,” Ben had whispered into Rey’s hair, brushing her tears from her cheek as Padmé slept peacefully the next room over. “It will be okay.”

Rey walks across the room again and leans over to press a soft kiss to the back of Padmé’s head, taking care not to wake her. “I’ll miss you, darling,” she whispers to her.

When she looks up at Ben, he sees the fear, the worry in her eyes. The unshed tears. The ache in her chest at having to leave the comfort of their home, their family, for the first time in weeks. “I’ll miss you, too,” she whispers.

“Everything will be fine,” he reassures her, even though they both know that he’s got fear welling in his chest at the thought of caring for Padmé without Rey or his mother to call on if things got difficult. “We’ll miss you, but we’ll be right here when you get back.”

Rey presses her lips to Ben’s and lingers there, reveling in the gentle weight of his hand on her waist. In such a short amount of time, she’s grown so attached to him, the two of them working in tandem so perfectly to care for their daughter. It’s odd to fathom even a week without him. In the long run, it’s nothing, but in the moment it’s a terrifying thought.

When she breaks the kiss, she turns and leaves the room without looking back; she knows that if she does, she’ll never leave.

As soon as the door clicks shut and Rey walks away from their little cottage, Padmé starts to fuss. “Shh, it’s alright,” Ben whispers. He presses a kiss to her forehead as she flails her little limbs. She’s still so tiny, but she’s fierce as she kicks her tiny feet against his chest.

He rubs her back and bounces her a little, trying to soothe her, but it doesn’t work.

All the other times this happens, Rey swoops in to help.

Rey isn’t here to help, now.

Recalling all the times he’s watched her soothe Padmé, Ben stands. He bounces a little in his knees, seeing if that will help, and she quiets but just slightly. When he begins to walk across the room, though, her little head starts to press at his hand. Padmé looks around the room with big eyes, watching as the world slowly passes her by. Her little fist grabs hold of his shirt and she looks around in awe as they walk.

“Okay,” Ben mutters, mostly to himself. “We’ll walk then.”

He eyes Rey’s stupid sling thing she got to carry Padmé in - “why use that when you could just use your hands?” he’d asked - but he doesn’t need it. He refuses to use it. He can carry his daughter without strapping her to his chest with the help of some fabric. Definitely. That’s what dads do… right?

Ben wanders the cottage, the tiny space seeming much tinier now after doing his twelfth lap around the place. But every time he tries to stop and sit down, Padmé fusses again. After the eighth time, he’d just sat and tried to calm her with toys or a lullaby, but she’d just whimpered and cried some more.

He knows deep down that if he wants to make sure she’s not too spoiled, he needs to just teach her to deal with it. But Ben also knows that she’s probably a little disconcerted by the absence of her mother, so he can probably make an exception.

Chandrila is especially beautiful that day, the bright sun shining down, sparking on the lake, the leaves on the trees blowing in a gentle breeze. The weather is temperate - not too hot, not too cold - it’s probably the perfect day for a walk now that the sun has risen and the day has truly begun.

He looks down at Padmé, and then back up at the window.

If he goes out with her, takes a walk - they could be seen. He’s still not used to people on the planet, people who used to know him as Kylo Ren, seeing him as a father. They always stare at him - and not in a good way.

But if it will make Padmé happy?

His mind is made up. Ben reaches for the door handle, balancing Padmé in his other hand, and he swears he can hear Rey admonishing him for being stubborn and not thinking of Padmé before his own pride.

Ben looks back at the nursery and rolls his eyes, hard.

---

Padmé coos happily as Ben trudges along the path along the sea, sunlight sparkling off the surface of the water. He wears a plain black shirt and trousers, his boots thumping hard on the wood of the boardwalk. Padme is held securely to his chest, the stupid baby sling holding her carefully in place as he holds a mug of caf in one hand and pats her back with the other.

They’ve been seen by a few people, Finn and Poe included, and Ben has gotten his fair share of surprised looks.

Padmé is happy, though. She’s content, cooing and blowing little spit bubbles as she looks around at the green, the blue, all the colors that her little eyes are just getting used to. And if he’s got to look a fool in front of people he doesn’t know, he’ll do it.

For Padmé, he’d do everything.

(And Rey never needs to know that he actually used the baby sling. Never. Ever.)

#kid fic #kylo ren #rey #reylo #reylo baby #my writing

[qwertyworks]

Summer 2019: QwertyWorks’ Layers of Fun in Sagada

There is no morning as heavenly as a Sagada morning! 

This rings true to an unquiet mind and a tired soul. Imagine this, you are on top of a hill seeing soft pillows of clouds, the sun bashfully peeking through, and blankets of lush greens are surrounding you. You look around and you see climbers, in awe just as you are, scattered and boisterous like it is Christmas morning. Their loud voices do not register as noise because the cold wind carries the sound and no walls are stopping it. Nearby are tents that serve as food outlets and inside them are steaming cauldrons of arrozcaldo and tsamporado. Tables and benches seem to invite tired climbers in for a rest. A cup of coffee or hot chocolate drink in hand, and you are ready for the day!

Okay, this was just a part of the adventures Qwertyworks had in the summer of 2019.

Like most things, it began with a plan. The summer month was just around the corner and along with it, an idea was also tapping in. Maybe it was the heat and the airlessness of the day, or the sight outside where everything was completely covered by the glaring sun, that instead of a beach destination (where the company would usually head to during summer) a lush nature trip to Sagada sounded more refreshing.

4th of April 2019, 9PM call time, the excitement for a road trip builds up. Inside the office building, white lights awaken the sleepy heads and warm yellow lights calm the nerves. This fairly described the vibe of the people inside. Some were excited and teasing each other. You could hear friendly banters that drew a picture of what lies in the following days. Others were calm, preserving their energy, but excited spirits, nonetheless.

After a few hours, it was time to leave. Everyone who was joining the trip boarded his/her respective van and was off to begin a 3-day adventure.

Like in most long-drive travels, snacks, which were prepared thoughtfully for Qwerty employees, were making the rounds. While some of us were catching sleep, others just could not wait to get off the van. 

Hours passed and the scenes of commercial establishments were slowly replaced with wide roads, farm fields, and an open view of the soft sunrise.

  Much longer into the trip came the ascent. It cannot be missed because it has its own way of latching to your memory! The ones who had a strong sense of steadiness were able to endure what seemed like an endless turn of steep roads. As for others, they bid hello to motion sickness.

After countless hours of travelling, a few stopovers, a breakfast stop, naps to recharge us, and a couple of picture-takings here and there, we were near our destination!

It would not be right for a traveler not to capture the beauty of these terraces. A statement of heritage, indeed!

Another worthy of the camera lenses were moments shared with the locals in their native Igorot wear.

We arrived in Sagada!

Our timing could not be more perfect. It was lunch time. We arrived and checked-in at St. Joseph Resthouse. It was a cozy place of cottages, dorms, a dinner hall, and a lovely landscape with various gorgeous flowers. This was our home for three days and two nights.

This was one of the dorms.  It looks like a regular house outside but it is very comfortable inside.

The wooden interiors gleam softly. No matter what time of day, the hallway remains cool.

The windows look so charming with pots of plants and flowers that greet your view.      

Later in the afternoon, we gathered altogether and headed to Sagada’s hanging coffins at the Echo Valley.

Before you reach the place where the hanging coffins are, you will pass by this modern-day cemetery. Here, we were briefed about the history of the place.

Off we went.

The Igorots believe that placing the coffins of the deceased high above the ground brings the souls of their loved ones closer to heaven. This also prevents wild animals and thieves from reaching the corpses.

A paved path will not lead you to this revered site. It was not difficult going down, however the soft drizzle made the soil a bit damp. Luckily, it only lasted for a few minutes. One could not afford to be clumsy because there was always a chance of giving everyone an impromptu show and end up slipping down the rocks. Good thing none of us did.

For our last destination on our first day, we took a short trip to Lake Danum.

At the main road before going to the lake was a long line of tables with vendors standing behind, luring you to have a taste of their delicious spread. It was a feast for the eyes and mouth.

Take your pick.

It was hard to concentrate when there was so much food around.

A memorable picture will always have a great photobomber somewhere (sometimes this person will walk right infront of you).

There were also colorful souvenir items being sold.

Although the lake was hidden behind the thick fog, our happy bunch still managed to enjoy the moment.

Watch your step! Going to the lake was like walking in clouds, only with cow dungs.

It was an afternoon of fog and laughter! We all went back to the rest house tired and satisfied.

Night came. Outside our dorms and cottages, the cool breeze was inviting us to step out. Amid the smoke coming from the bonfire, everyone shared a night of bliss filled with chatting, drinking, and singing.

Burning our worries one flame at a time.

On our 2nd day, things got physical!

Nope, not the violent kind, but the kind that would test our physical endurance. In line for the day were an uphill climb to witness the breathtaking sunrise and the sea of clouds at Marlboro Hills, a trek to Bomod-Ok Falls before lunch, and an afternoon spelunking at Sumaguing Caves. Intense!

Please bless your eyes with some of the pictures we took.

Sleepy heads. This bunch was up early to start this vigorous day.

Sleepy Sagada morning.

The start of an uphill climb where every slip was just another reason to spark joy among your peers, or to blurt out a swear if you are more expressive.

QwertyWorks up in Marlboro Hills.

Just a short meeting on who was the first to reach the top, who tripped the most, and what breakfast to eat later. Just kidding! They were probably talking about altitude, mountain ridges, summit, and natural forces. You know, great stuff.

Marlboro Hills

Cool and steady.

A few more shots before some hot breakfast.

   Peace out!

Nope! This was not breakfast.

Remember the food tents on top of the hill? This was one of it it. The place was a bit crowded, but everyone had his/her own space of peace and quiet.

There was a lot to choose from.

  Next up, Bomod-Ok Falls.

These strong ladies did not give up even under the blazing sun. Amazing!

These guys remained strong under the heat as well. Such endurance!

Qwertyworks rocks! Now, here were some of our members being outnumbered by, what else? Rocks!

Bomod-Ok Falls

We were told early on, the trek to Bomod-Ok Falls is not an easy plight. Some chose to stay behind and wait at the lunch area. Upon the return of our strong peers, they were welcomed with happy cheers. Lunch was also served to revitalize their burnt-out spirits.  

Off to our next adventure! Spelunking at Sumaguing Caves.

Do not be deceived by these smiles for this activity is not for the faint-heart and the fear of touching a clump of bat poop is another thing.

There were times, while having to use all your fingers and toes for a strong grip, you would genuinely ask yourself, “What was I thinking?”. There was also lot of screaming fearfully for your life inside you. In this situation, you have no choice but to push through and focus on not falling.

There was a moment we needed to cross two high slippery rock formations. For support, there were protruding obese walls to hold on to, wet and slippery, like the ground we were standing on, with space enough for just a step or two. Who would have thought a person could unthinkably stretch and creatively maneuver his/her body just to follow the shape of whatever little space was left to be able to move forward? Everyone will agree, heights and slippery surfaces is a scary combination. 

Thankfully, all who joined the Sumaguing Cave exploration survived. That was quite an experience!

Exhausted and relieved, we were ready to go back to St. Joseph Resthouse and congratulate ourselves for all the hard work. Our 2nd day in Sagada was truly intense!

Last day. Pack up day.

A bloom of flowers on a lovely Sagada morning.

Meal was served earlier than usual so we could leave before lunch. Stories of the past day rolled in and filled the dining area with laughter. 

We all have a bagful of memories to take with us and we were ready to go back home.

Before we left for Manila, one more spot needed to be seen. The highest peak in Sagada, Kiltepan Viewpoint.

It was afternoon and the sea of clouds was not visible like how it would be during dawn. Nevertheless, the cool breeze was relaxing enough to accompany us as we were hanging around alongside the road, eating some snacks, taking some pictures, and checking some gifts and souvenirs for sale.

We just had to bring something home for our friends and families.

A gentle reminder for us all.

The summer 2019 was truly a lovely experience for us who wanted some time away from the city. We took beautiful photos, collected bonding moments with our friends and peers, ate a lot of warm meals, slept late and woke up early, inhaled as much fresh air as we could, had a lot of heaving during all our activities, and most especially,  blessed our eyes with the abundance of nature.

We will never forget this. There will be more heights to reach in the future and we look forward to more trips that will add color to the stories of our crazy and exuberant family called QwertyWorks.

*Photo credit: Qwerty Family

[textales]

“A Curious Cat”

The Egyptians had a thing for cats. They even had a religion where they worshiped the feline gods. And If any one of those elusive feline gods had been even remotely as bewitching as my childhood cat I totally understand why.

She was a Seal Point Siamese…with deep blue eyes and a shimmering coat with blonde and brown fur, and even a strand or two of blue and silver mixed in. She was unlike any “normal” cat you’d see loitering in back yards or on front porches – this cat was downright exotic and stuck-out like a fine French restaurant in a trailer park. Great Falls was a simple “all American” blue-collar town, best suited for plain cats like Morris, the fat orange thing from the TV commercials for 9 Lives. Weird cats belonged in places like Missoula or Seattle with hippies and tie-dye and lesbians. She was clearly an outsider and a total anomaly. She might have been imported from Egypt or the land of Siam - wherever that was.

We lived on the right side of the tracks….but only by a few feet.  As a matter of fact, old railroad tracks remained in our back alley, abandoned since the 1950s when trucks replaced rail cars for local delivery of freight. We were on the last street where the old residential area met the industrial zone, with a giant three-story warehouse and tire repair shop on one end of the block, and a family-owned lumber yard across the alley. Our teeny home was built in 1916 when Great Falls was a thriving metropolis.  I’m guessing it was originally occupied by workers from the copper smelter or one of the many hydroelectric dams that were built in the era. Another set of tracks, about a half-mile away between our street and the Missouri River, carried the Burlington Northern freight trains which rumbled by a couple times a day.

Sometime in the mid-1970s my dad remodeled and we got all fancy with expensive Masonite paneling and a velvety couch and love-seat combo purchased from the House of Furniture for $499. We had multi-level shag carpeting and recessed lighting on dimmers, and the cottage-cheese ceiling had shiny silver sparkling bits.  

Ours may have been one of the nicer homes on the block - but just barely. I’m pretty sure the only reason it looked as good as it did was because my dad was always trying to out-do his sister who lived across the river in a double-wide. Hers was a very nice, color-coordinated double-wide, with full skirting and tip-outs. But according to my father it was still a “goddamned trailer.”      

My dad worked at a glass shop a block away. There was a vacant gravel lot between the shop and that three-story tire store/warehouse, and two tiny old houses between the warehouse and our place. His commute was better than that of a modern day “telecommuter” – his 30-second walk provided a little exercise and just enough separation between work and home to give him a decent “work-life” balance.

The glass shop was essentially our “second garage.”  We spent tons of time there when we needed to do big projects that required more space and the big air compressor. I have fond memories of that place. We painted our old Ford pickup in that shop…twice.  We did multiple overhauls on multiple engines for motorcycles, snowmobiles and lawnmowers, and we rebuilt at least one transmission in that space - all on nights and weekends after my dad had spent a solid 40 hours working. Who knew a glass shop would be such a good place for honing cylinders and grinding valves?  

I was in that shop with my dad and friends Lloyd and Wes the day Elvis died. And it was there where my dad and I had a big one sentence talk about “the birds and the bees” after my teacher sent me home with a note to advise the class had viewed the sex education film that day.  “Well, if you need to know anything about any of that shit, you just let me know.”  Thanks, Dad. 6th grade was so awkward.

Nobody seems to remember exactly when, but a Siamese cat showed up at the shop and didn’t want to leave. She didn’t need a new pane of glass for her cathouse - she was lost. My father took a liking to this adorable thing and offered up a little food and some attention.  

An exotic animal like this must certainly be someone’s pet. Perhaps it crawled from the back of a station wagon when its human came to get a makeup mirror fixed?  “Someone will come to get her” my dad explained as he poured Friskies into a makeshift serving dish fashioned from a decorative glass block.

After a couple days and no reports of a missing cat, Red decided he’d take this thing home. It would be easy to retrieve her should the owners come looking, and it couldn’t live at the shop anymore because the manager was allergic.

I was maybe five or six years old and hardly qualified to name a pet, but for whatever reason my parents gave me the opportunity so I decided her name should be Susie.  Where that came from I have no idea…it’s not like Susie was the name of a famous movie star, super model or even a family friend. In retrospect, and knowing her personality, that name was way too plain and simple for this enigmatic feline who had few characteristics typical of a domestic house cat. Susie was my spirit animal, and honestly I think she belonged in a circus.

She was a curious cat. Susie didn’t like milk, refused to eat Tuna, and loved the vacuum cleaner.  At least once a week my dad would spend an hour grooming her with the old Filter Queen, a beige-colored canister unit the size of a modern day shop vac. She’d come running the second it was brought out of the closet and would lie down in front of him, letting him suck her tail into the tube before extending her legs spread-eagle style waiting for the suction to take away whatever excess hair she would otherwise shed onto the carpet.  

Susie didn’t use a litter box. She’d hang by the back door and would announce with a polite meow when it was time for her to do her business.  Even if it was ten below zero she’d go outside.  The smell of her fur when returning from the frozen outdoors was something I wish I could bottle – I know I’d make millions on that magic scent.

We had a clothes hamper at the bottom of the stairs where she’d hide until we walked by. Then like a Jack-in-the-Box she’d pounce and start gnawing on your Achilles tendon. You’d think we’d have gotten used to it but it was always somehow a surprise.

My father would tease Susie by wagging a finger until she exploded and jumped from the floor into his arms.  She’d purr like the engine of a freshly rebuilt Mercury Cougar until she decided she was done with it, then without warning those beautiful blue eyes turned into fire, the fangs came out and she swiped with a vengeance.  Felines are so fickle.  

Canine Kryptonite.

Susie was like one of the guys. Far from being feminine, she wanted nothing to do with girlie things and could outfox and outrun any of the dogs in the neighborhood. She was far more masculine than Lloyd’s dog, Velvet, who played with rocks. She was far fiercer than Grandma’s Chihuahua, Cubby, and she had bigger balls than Aunt Kathy’s French gay male poodle, Shante.   

Neighbor Doug had a police dog, a German shepherd that looked like Rin Tin Tin. Susie scared the shit out of him – he knew to steer clear when she was on patrol.  

Susie and our cock-a-poo Peanuts loved to watch my dad and I work in the garage. They had a favorite spot on a 4-foot-high wooden ladder. The dog would sit on the top rung while Susie hung out on the tray intended for the paint can. Peanuts usually slept. Susie, on the other hand, paid close attention.  She was probably taking notes on how to operate the equipment and would be preparing a report for her alien overlords on the mother ship.

My brother and his wife were school teachers in the far-away lands of the Tri-Cities in Washington state. Just like the Egyptians, my brother’s wife had a thing for cats.

I recall one trip when they came thru town with a bizarre hairless cat like Mr. Bigglesworth from the Austin Powers movie. This cat and Susie had a lot in common (both being exotic and suitable for the circus) and Gloria fawned over Susie.  I can only imagine how pissed-off she had to have been, having spent thousands on exotic cats imported from breeders.  And we got ours for free because she was essentially a homeless drifter, rescued at the glass shop.

“Turn Me Loose, Set Me Free…Somewhere in the Middle of Montana.”

It made little difference where we were going, but on the weekends we just had to get out of town. In the summers we’d pack-up the pickup, hook on the travel trailer and head to a campsite somewhere. Whether a forest service campground or a gravel parking lot in a town 20 miles away it didn’t really matter - my dad just had to escape. Maybe something about the glass shop and our house being so close together didn’t provide the separation from home and work that he had hoped for? Hell, I don’t know…

Susie and my dog knew the routine: they’d wait patiently near the back door at 5:15 PM every Friday after work as we prepared to embark on another adventure. Peanuts knew instantly where he would sit in the cab of the truck between my mother and I on the bench seat. Susie usually jumped up onto the dashboard where she could sun herself and enjoy the view.

Susie was a swimmer - not to be left on the sidelines when the guys went fishing, she would jump in the water, “cat paddling” to the rubber raft floating out in the lake.  A cat that swims? Yes. And she would jump in the bathtub every so often.  This cat was crazy.

Once on a trip to Canada with my Aunt Ruby we met an Australian woman who really took a liking to Susie. When we went to leave the cat was nowhere to be found and my dad was convinced that the Australian chick had stolen her. She insisted she hadn’t, and joined our search party.  After an hour of panic and calling her name we’d almost given up. All the while she was in the tree directly above us, sprawled out with her legs hanging over the tree limbs. Immediately upon hearing the truck start she started meowing. Twenty-seven seconds later she returned to the dashboard and international peace was restored.

“Too many motors.”

My mom had reached a breaking point. “We have too many motors,” she exclaimed, slamming down the glass of “Chillable Red” she just filled from the box.  She then took a drag from a Newport menthol and promptly called the Tribune to place an ad in the classifieds.  We’d be having a big garage sale that weekend, to offload some excess items with engines that included at least one lawnmower, a go-kart, and the Honda 50 mini-bike I’d outgrown.  

Other goodies for sale included a collection of my mother’s hand-made doilies - you know those round frilly things that go underneath lamps or get used as an emergency potholder just once until you burn the shit out of your hands?  And we’d be offing a ceramic cookie jar, a creation of “Kathy’s Busy Bee Ceramics,” the studio for which was in a trailer next to the one my Aunt Kathy lived in across the river. This cookie jar was in the shape of a Christmas tree.  I hated that effing thing, especially when it sat on the counter well after the season was over.  I thought, but didn’t dare say out loud: “It’s not Christmas in July for Christ’s sake – so let’s get rid of this goddamn thing.”

The Garage Sale attracted all kinds of bargain shoppers including one family who arrived in a 1971 Plymouth Satellite Sebring station wagon plucked right from a Brady Bunch episode, complete with wood grain paneling, driven by a woman with a black bouffant hairdo and looking a lot like the country singer Loretta Lynn.

Susie got bored hanging out on the paint tray on the ladder and decided she’d explore the mysterious world of the Plymouth. It was warm, with strange smells and plush carpeting.  Its humans were different, and there were “stink sticks” (incense) from the Import Depot. A leftover wrapper from Burger Master smelled interesting, but after wondering “Where’s the Beef” she quickly went to sleep in the Sebring.  Nobody took notice and Susie went for a ride for a while, cruising the Garage Sale Circuit all over town.  

Of course she woke-up and started howling. She was not for sale. The kids wanted to keep her, but she wanted nothing to do with them now. She was agitated, and wanted to get back to her native habitat where she could guard the roost - even if it had too many motors. Those motors belonged to her and she needed to watch over them.

They had to back-track, returning to all the garage sales in reverse order until they found us. “Is this your cat?” asked the Loretta Lynn look-alike.  Susie was returned annoyed and unharmed.  Like a wayward teenager busted drinking at a party and retrieved by her parents, she was reluctant to show any emotion and quietly leapt from the tailgate of the Plymouth and returned to the paint tray on the ladder in the garage.

“Houston Means that I’m One Day Closer to You.”

In my junior year of high school I took my first trip on an airplane to see my sister who lived in the northern suburbs of Houston.  It was around Christmas of 1982 and I’d finally go inside a real building taller than ten stories.  I’d go to NASA where astronauts would say they had a problem if there were one, and I’d shop at a fancy shopping mall with an ice rink inside. Everything was fascinating and I tried not to stare, but I’m sure I made a quite a spectacle and an embarrassment of myself.

When I left Montana there was snow on the ground and it was maybe in the 10s. Since I was in the blistering hot warmth of Texas, I could get a little tan before returning to the frozen tundra up north. The neighbors had to wonder WTF as they looked through the shutters at some albino kid wearing shorts and laying out on the side lawn in the middle of winter.  It was maybe in the low 60s the day I tried to tan.

At the mall with the ice rink I remember looking for stuff you just couldn’t get in Montana.  I was kind of bummed I couldn’t find the platform tennis shoes like those worn by Stewart Copeland of the Police, but I did buy a cool, slightly “off color” dark-comedy cartoon book from one of the novelty stores there. I’m not sure what motivated me to buy it other than wanting at least one souvenir from Texas, and the book was easy enough.

Later that night I called home to check-in.  I was having a great time, and I told the parents I’d see them in a week. This town was fascinating and it was fantastic to be in a “real city” with 8-lane freeways and tall buildings and radio stations that played more than classic rock or country.  

“Your cat’s been moping around, so we’re going to take her to the vet.”  This message didn’t really alarm me.  Susie was getting old, but she was bullet proof. 

When I got back to Great Falls a week later I was greeted at the door by Peanuts but no Susie. “She was sick so we had to put her down” said my father as he fought back the tears. “She had feline leukemia” my mother said.

It was a bit of a shock, but really….Susie was no spring chicken (I think she was at least ten years old at that point) and it’s not like it was devastating.  Cats die. We all die.  And it’s not like I hadn’t thought about it.

Oh, and what was the name of that book I bought at the shopping mall with the ice rink?

“101 Uses for a Dead Cat.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have bought the book?

#sealpoint siamese greatfalls trains

[mira-mikaelson]

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely❣- A memory that leaves them laughing

{ Ohhh dear!  This is gonna be a long one!  Please bare with me!  Will do a read more after the first one! If you actually read all of it, thank you! lol! } 

A memory that makes them feel guilty

“Did you guys hear the news?” Billy asked the other two as the three teenagers played in the shallow water near the back of the river. “Kylie is missing.”

Talon laughed, “She is always missing.  Last time she ran away, she made it all the way to Redridge before being brought back home.”

Billy huffed, shaking his head.  “No, this time she is gone.  Her parents came by my house this morning.  The things in her room were destroyed and she was no where to be seen.”

Kicking water towards Billy, Mira shook her head. The girl turned away from her friends and headed back up to the shore, plopping down on the grassy knoll.  

Talon and Billy began tackling each other and dunking each other in the water, as Mira watched.  However, the young girl had a frown on her face.  She knew what happened to Kylie.  At least, she thought she did.

Kylie Benson.  Such a mean girl. She had gone out of her way to make Mira feel like an outcast.  The day Mira had met Talon and Billy, she had been so happy to finally have friends that were her age and fun to be around.  But when they introduced her to Kylie, it was clear the other girl was not happy with Mira being around.  It had been made evident that Talon was Kylie’s and that Mira being his friend was a threat to her relationship with him.

However, Mira had ignored the comments made by the other girl and simply kept her distance when she was able.  Except for last night.  Kylie had followed Mira to a cave near the top of Stone Cairn Lake. She had planned on confronting Mira about a kiss that had went on between Mira and Talon the previous day.

“So, why don’t you just go back to the orphanage?” Kylie had taunted the girl before pushing her.  “He is mine.  I thought I made that clear to you?  You are going to pay for it.”

“Pay for what, exactly?”  Mira fired back, sighing.  “I do not want us to be enemies, Kylie.  It was a kiss between friends.  And he is not your boyfriend.  Despite how you feel about him.  I am sorry that you do not like me but I am not going to say sorry for something that I should not have to!”

“Don’t you get it?”  Kylie lashed out, hitting Mira in the jaw. “My life was perfect before you came into it.  Talon and I were something special, until the stupid little girl with a guitar came along from the orphanage and moved her way into his life.  Yes, he had a crush on you before you met him, I know because he told me and Billy about it. The new girl in the cottage who never comes out, only sit by her stupid little window.  Why did you have to come in and ruin my life?  You are not that pretty, or special.  What do you have that I do not?”

Mira was holding her jaw, almost in tears at this point.  Everything was going completely wrong.  Why had Kylie had to follow her?  Why did she have to kiss Talon and make things worse? Mira was caught off guard when the ground began to shake beneath their feet, and the caves began to seep with shadows.  

“What are you doing?!”  Kylie growled, “Stop!”

“I-it’s not me!  I swear!” Mira protested.  

But just as the words rolled off her tongue, the shadows reached out from the walls and began wrapping about Kylie.  Mira watched in horror. “K-kylie?”  She muttered before the girl was completely gone within the shadows.  The ground steadied and Mira was left alone in the small cave.

Mira watched as Talon and Billy moved from the water up to the grass where she was seated.  

“Are you okay?”  Talon asked as he scooted next to her, arm draping about her shoulder. “I am sure Kylie will show up, if that is what is upsetting you.  You do not know her like me and Billy do.  She is a bit of a wild one.”

Mira knew that was not true.  Kylie was gone.  She had seen it.  But the girl chose to keep the truth to herself.  One of many she had already and one of many she was going to collect.

The three friends spent the rest of the night, chatting and playing in the water.

A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad

Mira groaned as she tossed and turned in her bed, the wounds from the night before sore to the touch. Her pale green eyes opened and she peered up at the ceiling of her old room.  It had been a long time since she had slept in this room and it just did not feel like home anymore.  However, she was exhausted and beaten last night, not wanting to travel to far after spending some time with Boras by the waterfall.  So, she opted to go to her parents house. They had been excited to see their daughter but upset at the condition she was in.  

Her mother had run her a warm bath, helping the injured girl to clean her cuts and gashes.

Regina looked on to her daughter with worry as she rubbed the sponge across her scarred back. “And just how did you come to get these?”  She asked, peering at her daughter.

“I got those months ago, Ma,”  Mira replied as she sat in the basin of water with her knees to pulled to her chest.  “We were fighting a creature in Kalimdor that has razor on its tail.  It drug it down my back and that was the outcome.”

Shaking her head, Regina began to wash her daughter’s golden tresses,  “Are you sure this is truly the path that you wish to go down?  You can always move back here.  We can find you a more suitable job.  One that not put your life at risk.”

Mirayim only sighed,  “Ma, I am doing good.  I am helping people.  And I think that is more important than a few scars here and there.”

“Nothing is more important than your life, Ray,”  Regina replied in a stern voice.  “Look at this!”  She grabbed her daughter’s arms, “MORE SCARS!  You were going to Stormwind to become a singer and dancer, Ray.  What happened?  What changed that?”

Jerking her arms away from her mother, Mira gave an exasperated sigh. “Life happened.  I was attacked.  My guitar, scattered to pieces.  I am not the same girl I was when I left here, ma.  I am sorry.  I just cannot be that girl anymore.  There is a savage world out there.”

Grabbing a towel, Regina held it out towards her daughter.  “I love you, Ray.  I could not love you more if I had birthed you myself.  And I worry about you.”

Taking the towel, Mira wrapped about her body as she climbed out of the washing basin.  “I love you too.  But I am doing what I believe to right.  I wish you could just trust me.”

After Mira had dried herself off, wrapped her wounds and put on a gown she joined her mother at the kitchen table for some tea and cakes. “Plus, I have met wonderful people.  True friends.  All from just doing what I do.”

“Are these friends the ones who talked you into putting that ink on your body?”  Regina narrowed her eyes at her daughter.  “Why would you do that?”

Mirayim laughed,  “No, that was all me.  They…”  she thought back to her conversation a couple hours ago smiling and looking at her mother.  “.. they represent the butterflies that are in my stomach whenever I try to meet new people.  They represent me trying to make something of my dance.”

Shaking her head, Regina only sighed,  “So, tell me of men.  Is there a special one in your life yet?”

Nearly choking on her cake, Mira shook her head,  “No.  There is not a special guy in my life.  I am to busy for all of that.  Love is a distraction, Ma.  One that I can not afford to have right now. I work so I can keep coin going into the orphanage, and to help others.  That is it.  I am planning on traveling and learning to fight better.  To dance more, sing more, and write more music.  I have no time for romance.”

Her mother frowned heavily,  “Love and romance are not distractions, Ray.  They are great things.  And if you find the right man, he will do these things with you.”

Rolling her eyes, Mira pushed off from the table, not wanting to have this talk with her mother.  “I think I am going to bed now, Ma. I love you.”

A memory that leaves them feeling lonely

The girl had been living with the Mikaelson’s for a little over a week, as she sat on the bank of the pond near  Eastvale Logging Camp.  Mira had not even tried to make friends with the other children around.  However, she would often watch them from the distance. 

On this day, there were children playing in the pond.  Her eyes watched them, a small smile tugging at her lips.  Even though she was very apprehensive, she had a certain fascination with the other children. 

She wanted to have fun, and laugh with them.  But how could she?  How could possibly be happy and have fun when her parents no longer had the option to be happy.  They had been killed and she had been spared.  Plus, the shadows did not like it when she grew close to others.  They grew jealous.  

Even now as she sat there, wanting to play, they helped hold her back from actually trying to get to know them.  However, there was one boy who kept looking over at her and smiling.  Each time she would advert her gaze, frowning. 

Soon the boy began to walk towards her, smiling and waving.  Mira pushed up from the ground and took off running to her new home.  She ran pass the woman named Regina and into her room, slamming the door shut.  

A memory that leaves them laughing

The friends were all dancing atop a rock that overlooked a hot spring on the outskirts of Elwynn Forest.  Talon and Billy were locked, arm in arm, spinning as Mira spun in circles with her arms out to her sides.  Kylie sat off to the side with a scowl on her face. 

A splash could be heard as Mira stopped her spinning just in time to watch a second rock fall into the springs.  However, the two guys kept spinning, to see who could hang on the longest.  

“Ummm… guys…”  Mira called out to no avail.  

Another moment later and both boys went flying aprt from each other.  Billy fell into the nearby as Talon went stumbling off the cliff. 

Mira, Billy and Kylie raced to the edge, to see Talon in the water being attacked by ducks.  They all started laughing, even Kylie.