#the wonder of humanity is the we all came up with different cuisines and they’re all fucking good
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my friends r like byte are u mad abt the bread manga again YES. Yes I’m mad
#It’s a different one this time! It’s always a different one and it’s always bad!#this time there was an unexpected lemon scene which was :/ ew#If ur gonna be like my character revolutionizes an industry do ur research pls it’s so easy to make a loaf of bread#listen there are already techniques like tangzhong which allow for the super fluffy milk breads that don’t get stale/hard#as quickly; which u don’t see used in European style breads#you don’t have to make shit up. please.#also who said unleavened bread must taste bad and hard anyways. Shut up.#the wonder of humanity is the we all came up with different cuisines and they’re all fucking good#yes I’m displacing my stress about exams onto this bread manga. and what of it#bytebun rambles#discourse tag
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Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 5 - Summer Clouds (Part 1)
Full list of translations here
Translation Notes
1. Shiso a.k.a. perilla is a plant used a lot in Japanese cuisine
2. This is callback to Chapter 4 when Nico-chan mentions “ Don’t they say that men who are bad at driving are bad with that too?”
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“We can’t train in this heat.”
“But if we don’t train, we won’t have a place to live…”
Kakeru listened to the conversation going on behind him while he was boiling somen noodles for lunch. Jouta and Jouji were sprawled out in the hallway by the front door, cooling off.
Ever since Kiyose collapsed, the residents of Chikusei-sou had been more careful about their health: they had all decided to get anemia tests done once a month by the neighborhood physician who had made the house call, there was a range of supplements stocked in the kitchen, and, before going to bed, there were massage battles going on in various rooms.
Even so, there was nothing to be done about the heat.
Now that the midyear exams for university were over and summer vacation was upon them, the air temperature was boiling to an almost violent degree. Chikusei-sou—of course—didn’t have air conditioning, so the front door and the doors of each room were left open. The residents, seeking a place where they could pass the time even just a bit more comfortably, crawled around the hallways like slugs.
The heat and vapor rising from the big pot instantly stuck to Kakeru’s skin and changed into sweat. He nimbly transferred the somen to a colander and ran it under running water, then put the noodle soup base, mineral water, and ice on the dining table.
“It’s done!” he called out while wiping his sweat with the shoulder of his T-shirt. The twins slowly got up.
Jouta took a look at the table and complained, “It’s so bare. Tell me there’s condiments, at least.”
“Haiji-san is picking shiso (1) in the yard right now.”
Placing the colander heaped with somen noodles in the center of the table, Kakeru struck the bottom of the empty pot with a ladle. The residents, looking like snakes on the verge of death, appeared from here and there and gathered in the kitchen.
“How much shiso is Haiji getting?”
“Shindou is not here either. I wonder what happened.”
“In any case, the landlord’s heartless. He didn’t have to get so angry.”
“I guess we deserved it, though.”
The residents sighed as they dexterously slurped their somen.
The night Kiyose collapsed, the worried landlord had tried to enter Chikusei-sou. Shindou and Musa desperately tried to keep him out, not letting him cross the threshold.
The next day, the landlord, suspicious, entered Chikusei-sou while the residents were at school. Immediately at the front door he discovered the hole in the twins’ room. The landlord’s sadness deepened at the sight of the hole in the rundown apartment he treasured like his own child, so gathering the residents, he made an announcement.
“I need money for repairs for Chikusei-sou. In order to save up money, I’m raising the rent.”
“What!”
“Don’t ‘what’ me! Didn’t you say something along the lines of ‘We’re going to do well in the Hakone Ekiden and get a powerful sponsor to set up a new training camp’?!”
“No sponsor’s gonna go that far,” Jouta, the one responsible for making the hole, grumbled, but he fell silent at the landlord’s glare.
“You all seem to have more than enough energy, so Hakone should be a walk in the park for you. If you don’t want the rent to increase, do whatever it takes to get to Hakone.”
If they provoked him any further, the elderly landlord might suddenly die from too much rage, so they could only obediently say in unison, “Understood.”
“There’s absolutely no way I can move. I want to train for the sake of leaving the rent where it is as well, but…” Prince, who was hoarding manga in his room, said. “Running in the summer is, to put it bluntly, an act of suicide, isn’t it? What do other track teams do?”
“Most of them hold training camps somewhere cool. Like in Hokkaido,” Kakeru answered.
“Hokkaido!”
Jouji became spellbound with just that word. Crabs, sea urchins, ramen…it was so easy to see what he was thinking about that it was practically reflected in the soup. Kakeru coughed, deciding that the sooner he brought him back to reality, the less painful it would be.
“It’s impossible for us. We don’t have the money.”
Right when a disappointed Jouji was gulping down his somen along with the melted ice, Kiyose and Shindou ran into the kitchen.
“You’re late, Haiji. We’re finished eating,” said Nico-chan as Kiyose pushed the shiso leaves onto him.
“Let’s escape this scorching hell called Tokyo. We’re going on a training camp.”
The twins stood. “Hokkaido?!”
“No, Lake Shirakaba.”
It lacked the impact of Hokkaido, but Lake Shirakaba, located in the Tateshina highlands, was also a famous summer retreat.
“But, what are we going to do for the lodging fees?” Kakeru asked.
“A supporter from the shopping district is going to help us,” Kiyose said. “We’re staying at a vacation home near Lake Shirakaba that belongs to the owner of ‘Batting Center Okai.’ The food for the training camp will be provided by Yaokatsu and some others, and we’ll use the Aotake van to make the roundtrip, so it won’t cost that much.”
“Don’t worry about fundraising,” Shindou assured. “We’re advertising to the shopping district and the university staff that we’re aiming for Hakone, so our sponsors will surely increase. Besides, Nico-chan-senpai’s wire dolls are selling better than expected.”
“What?” Nico-chan said, stunned. His hands stopped plucking the shiso and dividing them among the bowls of unfinished somen. “You’re selling them? Where in the world would anyone buy something like that and for what reason?”
“I had them put in the general store, and they’re popular with girls. They’re calling them things like dolls for warding off evil spirits and ‘disgustingly cute!’ and stuff like that.” Shindou smiled. “Please keep making more from now on.”
“Hooray! Training camp, training camp!”
Jouta and Jouji took each other’s hands and rejoiced. Prince had already disappeared from the kitchen; it seemed that he had gone to his room to study what manga he was going to bring to the training camp. Everyone dreamed of a fun summer training camp.
A refreshing wind blowing across the lake shore. A beautiful girl in a white dress, riding in a swan boat with her while gnawing on roasted corn. Even when autumn finally arrives, our love will never end. We promise to meet again in Tokyo, and in the middle of a thicket of white birch trees, we shed tears over our brief parting…
“That was what I imagined, but…” Jouji got a sulky look on his face. “Why is reality like this?”
The vacation home they were borrowing from the batting center owner didn’t seem to have been used in a long time and it had half rotted away.
With Kiyose driving the white van, the group arrived at the home in the coniferous forest by Lake Shirakaba and finished the first day of camp by cleaning the rooms. With the floors scrubbed, the bath polished, and the fireplace soot swept away, the log house finally seemed to come back to life a bit.
The home built between the trees looked like a log den made by a bear at first glance. Now that they had finished fixing it up, it somewhat seemed like a dwelling for humans. Relieved, Kakeru threw the gathered branches into the fireplace.
“Jouji, your imagination is too cliché,” Jouta said, his face pitch black from the soot. “I knew it was going to turn out like this.”
As far as they could see during the day, it seemed to be mostly families and old couples that came to Lake Shirakaba to escape the heat. The swan boats were drearily swaying with the ripples on the water and music was flowing out from the small amusement park by the lake.
“It is good to feel cool, though.” Musa was wearing a hoodie over his T-shirt. “It will be almost cold when the sun sets.”
When Kakeru made a fire in the fireplace, people individually came to gather around it. It was pitch dark outside the window, and all they could hear was the rustling of the treetops.
“I’ve finished preparing for dinner; all that’s left is adding the roux,” Kiyose, who had been staring into the flames for a while, said. “Before that, let’s go for a short run.”
“Curry again?”
“No! I used up all my energy for cleaning!”
“It’s so dark, what if we get hit by a car?”
Kiyose, of course, didn’t heed their protests. As though urged forward like cattle, they put on their shoes and all went out to the unpaved forest path.
“We don’t even know the route yet.” Nico-chan scratched his head. “Which way’s the lake?”
“If we go down the slope, we’ll eventually reach the lakeside.”
With Yuki’s guidance, they formed a line and started running. Kiyose, who was at the end, gave instructions.
“One lap around the lake is 3.8 kilometers. Once everyone’s done three laps, we’ll return to the cabin and eat dinner.”
“Yes!”
When they arrived at the paved lakeside road, they started running at their own pace. The souvenir shop and small art gallery already had their shutters down, and except for a couple of large hotels, there were no other buildings with lights on. They followed this brand new route to explore it, without enjoying the scenery.
Kakeru was next to Kiyose, running along the night road that drew a gentle curve. The presence of water nearing the shore was their only reference.
Running in a different atmosphere and on a different road from usual didn’t make Kakeru feel anxious—the sense of distance was hammered into his body. If he heard beforehand that one lap was 3.8 kilometers, then he was automatically able to grasp where he was running at that moment from his speed and bodily sensations.
The elation and fun of running in an unfamiliar land filled Kakeru.
“Where’s the coach?” he asked Kiyose running next to him. “Is he still at the go parlor?”
“Who knows. He’ll join us before long.” Kiyose tilted his head to the side a little. “For some reason, the landlord doesn’t want to ride in the car when I’m driving.”
That morning, when they were departing from Chikusei-sou, the landlord saw them off in the yard. He watched with satisfaction as the food they received from the shopping district was loaded into the back of the van, but in the end did not try to get in himself.
“But Haiji-san, you’ve gotten so much better at driving.”
After he said that, Kakeru thought, Crap, that’s not a good follow-up. However, it was true that Kiyose was improving in his driving skills at a tremendous pace; some people even fell asleep on the way to Lake Shirakaba. At the time of the first TSU meet, when they were stiff in their seats or about to pass out like they were riding a space shuttle doing an acrobatic flight, they couldn’t imagine entrusting their bodies to Kiyose at the wheel and falling asleep.
“I’m a fast learner when it comes to anything,” Kiyose said matter-of-factly. “I’m fastidious, so I throw myself into studying and training wholeheartedly.”
Recalling that common saying mentioned before (2), Kakeru, feeling gloomy, said, “Eh, then, for that too...” but didn’t have the courage to ask him.
“Is that so? I see,” he said instead, nodding.
After passing the lagging members, Kakeru and Kiyose were the first to return to the house. After running three laps around the lake, the chilliness of the damp, highland night air didn’t bother them anymore. To relax his body, Kakeru filled the bath with hot water while Kiyose pressed a plastic bag filled with ice to his right calf to prevent inflammation in his burdened muscles.
“How are you feeling?”
“There’s no issue.” Kiyose smiled. “Go ahead and take a bath.”
When Kakeru got out of the bath and took Kiyose’s place in the kitchen to stir the curry pot, everyone else returned from jogging. They took off their sweat-drenched T-shirts and trudged off to the bath.
The sounds of fighting for the shower and off-key humming could be heard even in the kitchen. Kiyose was apparently thrown out of the bath. With his hair still wet, he opened the lid of the rice cooker, and Kakeru helped him arrange the dinner dishes on the huge slab of a table.
A heap of curry, rice, and salad; milk mixed with protein powder; peaches for dessert; everything was food donated by the shopping district.
After everyone had refreshed themselves in the bath, they went to the dining table. They were just about to grab a spoon to eat when…
“Wait a minute,” Kiyose said. “There’s not enough people here.”
They looked at each other. Musa and Shindou weren’t there.
“This is strange. Even Prince-san came back.”
“I don’t think there was anyone in front of me or behind me when I was running my last lap,” Prince said, tilting his head.
“You don’t think they got lost, do you?” King stood and looked outside from the dining room window.
“Did anyone happen to catch sight of Musa and Shindou on their way back here?” Kiyose asked.
No one raised their hands. Nico-chan went upstairs, and then they heard the sound of the second floor lights being turned on to mark their spot in the woods.
“Where did they go?”
“Shouldn’t we go search for them?”
The twins made worried suggestions.
“No. It’d be bad if more of us got lost. Let’s wait for a while.”
Though he said that, Kiyose was probably out of his mind with worry. They opened the door and stared at the forest path submerged in darkness. No matter how much they strained their ears, they couldn’t hear Musa and Shindou’s footsteps. The curry was getting cold, but now was not the time for dinner.
Kakeru stood at the door with Kiyose. Nico-chan, who came down from upstairs, patted Kiyose’s shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, even if they have to sleep outdoors for the night, they’ll be fine.”
Right at that moment, the kitchen door behind them burst open. When they turned around in shock, Musa and Shindou were just entering from the side of the kitchen.
There was a steep, pathless slope behind the kitchen. Kakeru was stunned, never thinking that Musa and Shindou would appear from there.
Musa and Shindou started shouting.
“This is bad, this is bad!”
“TSU has also come to Lake Shirakaba!”
Collecting themselves, everyone surrounded the table. As they ate their curry, Musa and Shindou told them that TSU’s clubhouse was apparently located just further up the mountain from the vacation home.
“It’s still a new building. There were lights on, so we approached it thinking it must be this house, but we could see the TSU guys having dinner through the window,” Shindou said.
“By the way, they’re having yakiniku. I believe it is the highest-quality wagyu beef,” Musa supplemented.
King was silent, and then gulped down his minced pork curry.
“Why did you climb up the mountain?” Kiyose asked.
“It is not as though we wanted to climb it.”
“We got lost on the path because it was dark.”
Musa and Shindou both spoke quickly.
“Shindou, aren’t you used to mountains?”
“I am, but I also have no sense of direction.”
“I am the same. To the point that even in my home country, my parents warned me not to go into the savannah, even if my friends invited me.”
Kakeru spoke to Kiyose, who was rubbing his temples, in a small voice. “What are we going to do, Haiji-san? You were planning to enter Shindou-san for the Hakone mountain climb section, weren’t you?”
“Aah,” Kiyose groaned. “We might be able to see the first real-time Hakone disaster drama in Ekiden TV broadcast history.”
“They have a leading car, so I don’t think that’ll happen,” Yuki laughed scornfully. “But if push comes to shove, we’ll have to leave it to Shindou’s wild sense of smell. We’ll have him push through Hakone’s trackless mountain paths and cut ahead to Lake Ashi first.”
“Is—is that possible?” Jouji, who overheard their conversation, brightly asked.
“Of course not. If you go off the route, you’ll be disqualified,” Kiyose chided.
“Apparently someone did it before,” King said, showing off his miscellaneous knowledge. As expected of a quiz enthusiast, he had also looked up trivia about the Hakone Ekiden.
“This was in the Taisho era, when there were only about four competing schools. Apparently, the thing all the schools were most enthusiastic about wasn’t training, but finding a shortcut through the mountains of Hakone. Well, it was an idyllic time where there were no radio relay broadcasts for the Hakone Ekiden.”
“Isn’t that cheating?” Prince said while peeling a peach. Nico-chan laughed as he took a second helping of rice.
“Sounds like something a university student would think of.”
Kakeru conjured up Taisho-era students running along the animal trails of Hakone in his mind: rivals desperately competing against each other, but also trying to figure out a way to make things a little easier. The figures of silly and cheerful students hadn’t changed much from then til now.
“Let’s find a shortcut if we pass the qualifiers.”
“I said you can’t.”
“The problem is TSU. What should we do?” Yuki asked.
“We’ll definitely bump into them on the path along the lake,” Shindou muttered.
Kakeru was wordlessly filled with fighting spirit. Like hell he was going to be overtaken by a TSU runner, even for jogging.
“Don’t fight,” Kiyose cautioned. “There’s only one lake. Let’s compromise and run together peacefully.”
Everyone in Chikusei-sou covered themselves with blankets on the vacation home’s second floor and slept in a huddle, and rose with the twittering of small birds. The first thing they would do was to stretch and go for a jog in the clean air before breakfast. With that in mind, they all headed out to the lakeside path where they immediately ran into the runners from TSU. The TSU track team members, dressed in matching jerseys, had just finished their morning meeting in the parking lot of the souvenir store before it opened. About fifty of them were about to start jogging in ranks, grouped by level.
The head coach and several people who looked like assistant coaches rode separately in cars, accompanying each group. The well-coordinated TSU members started running in order of seniority. “Wow…” Jouji breathed in honest admiration.
The Kansei University long-distance track team only consisted of the ten people from Chikusei-sou. They didn’t hold a meeting before practice, and their coach was absent as usual. Their clothing was all over the place as well; the twins, for example, were wearing extremely colorful Hawaiian shirts that considerably spoiled the scenery of Lake Shirakaba.
The TSU first-year Sakaki seemed to have noticed them. He whispered something to the teammate he was running with. A murmur speedily spread through the TSU group, and they—especially the first-years—turned and looked back at Kakeru and the others one after another.
“This is somewhat tough,” Musa said, getting fainthearted. King, who got nervous easily, seemed like he was about to return to the vacation home.
“Let’s go.” Kakeru was as confident as could be; he never fell behind in running. To anyone.
“What’s with this morning energy…”
While grumbling, everyone at Chikusei-sou seemed to let themselves be influenced by Kakeru and started running.
Kiyose said, “Leave Kakeru alone. Keep your own pace.”
Kakeru laughed a little when he heard that. Even though he told them to leave him alone, sure enough, Kiyose immediately caught up to him. Ahead of them, Sakaki glanced back and beckoned them with his hand behind his back.
“Don’t take the bait.”
“I can take it and surpass him.”
“Don’t throw off your rhythm. This morning’s jog is at a pace of five kilometers in twenty minutes.”
Kakeru looked at Kiyose. Kiyose was running forward with a calm expression on his face. He looked like he was listening carefully to the sounds of his own body. The TSU group and the bikes that sometimes passed them didn’t seem to exist at all to Kiyose, who was beginning to concentrate on running; he was simply moving his body silently in the space between the lake and coniferous forest.
“Yes,” Kakeru said.
He followed Kiyose’s example and stopped caring about Sakaki anymore. Five kilometers in twenty minutes. When he ran at this speed, he was only conscious of the functioning of his muscles and heart. It wasn’t a painful pace; he had room to confirm that his blood was circulating around his mind and body.
The birds were singing with clear voices towards the sun that was actively beginning to rise, and the wind blowing from high up on the mountain made small waves on the lake surface.
What is strength? Kakeru suddenly thought about that again. For example, this calmness of Haiji-san’s. Without wavering, calmly, running in his own world. I can run with a better time than him, but I’m not sure I’m stronger than him. I lose my cool easily, and all I can think about is how I don’t want to lose.
Kakeru wanted to know. He wanted to know what strength was and what he was lacking. It was the first time he had ever felt that way. Until now, he had always been running as his body demanded—as though he was being urged on by something.
Kiyose didn’t restrict or coerce the idiosyncratic members, instead trying to flexibly guide them. Kakeru looked back: the residents of Chikusei-sou were running along the lakeside path. While their abilities still varied a lot, they had solid forms and were working hard on jogging. Even though they had complained so much in the spring, through their hard work these last three months, they had managed to end up looking like members of a track team.
Kakeru faced forward again and cast down his eyes. His consciousness was stretching around, from his toes that kicked at the ground to the flow of his fingertips as his arms swung through the air.
If I follow Haiji-san, then I’m sure I will be able to see something. Something sparkling that I’ve always wanted to see.
The TSU first-years, with Sakaki at the center, were messing with Kansei University.
When they were running on the lakeshore path, they spread out in a horizontal line to block their path. They would run and surround Kakeru as a group, putting pressure on him. They did these things behind the head coach’s and their upperclassmen’s backs, making fun of them repeatedly.
Kakeru didn’t care much about it; he had gotten used to such harassment during club activities and competitions throughout high school. If he got surrounded, he could just break free and move ahead, and if his way got blocked, he could just overtake them by going out into the oncoming lane.
However, almost all the residents of Chikusei-sou were little more than beginners; they didn’t have any strategies for running. They completely shrivelled up under the TSU first-years’ harassment and had their pace disturbed.
“They’re doing something immature.”
Even Kiyose, who had been watching the situation from the beginning, finally couldn’t keep quiet anymore. When they finished their evening jog, they went to speak to them.
There were about twenty TSU first-years, and they were hanging out in the souvenir store parking lot. Kiyose approached them without any sign of flinching. But they couldn’t let Kiyose be the only one to go through something risky, so Kakeru and the others hurriedly chased after him.
The sound of the cicadas resounded miserably in the lakeshore air. “I’d say each of us beating up two people is a good rate,” Nico-chan said, cracking his fingers, and Musa rolled his ankles to loosen them. The TSU first-years stopped chatting and turned towards them. The runners from the two schools stood facing each other in the middle of the parking lot.
“I would like you all to stop interfering with our training.” Kiyose broke the ice quietly. Sakaki stepped out from the TSU group.
“And we would like you to stop with the false accusations. Do you have any proof that we interfered with you?”
“We do,” Yuki said, then took his phone out and thrust it at them. On the standby screen, they could clearly see the TSU students running spread out across the entire path, and Kakeru running cramped behind them.
“I wanted to be able to check my form later. And when I did that, I got some interesting shots.”
“I understand how you feel, but leave your phone behind,” Kiyose cautioned Yuki. “If you run with unnecessary stuff in your pockets, it will ruin the balance of your form.”
Is that actually the problem here? Kakeru thought. He didn’t like Yuki’s actions because he was being too studious, but he was also afraid of Kiyose, who was unfazed by this and only thought about running. Even Sakaki looked astounded and uncomfortable.
Kiyose turned back to the TSU first-years.
“That’s all I have to say. I don’t want to show this out-of-focus photo to your head coach or captain if I can help it. I hope you understand.”
“Of course I do.” Sakaki smiled thinly. “TSU is seriously training to go to Hakone. We can’t be bothered with people who are running on a whim.”
“We’re on the same page, then.” Kakeru saw a vein appear on Kiyose’s temple. “It’s really annoying when people interrupt your serious practice with childish harassment.”
Kiyose and Sakaki glared at each other furiously. Haiji-san, Kakeru whispered, gently putting his hand on his arm to calm him.
“I think we have different definitions of serious,” Sakaki said in a harsh tone. “Why don’t we have a match? You ten and ten first-years from our school will run along the lakeside and compete for time.”
Kakeru’s brain seethed at the blatant challenge. He turned to Sakaki and yelled, “Let’s do this!”
He understood that Sakaki was devoted to running, but he still couldn’t forgive him for looking down on the residents of Chikusei-sou. Sakaki’s attitude was like seeing himself as he was until recently, and he felt unbearably displeased. This time it was Kiyose who grabbed Kakeru by the arm in order to hold him back, but he shook him off and continued to say, “You have something you want to say to me? If that’s the case, you and I should compete instead. Just because you can’t beat me doesn’t mean that you can drag other people into it!”
“You never change, Kurahara, you’re as overconfident as ever.”
Sakaki also accepted the challenge without faltering. People from both schools cut in between the two, who seemed like they were about to start exchanging blows at any minute. Kakeru, with his arms pinned behind his back by Nico-chan, glared at Sakaki who was still breathing hard, flapping his legs and trying to kick Kakeru with his arms also held down by his teammate.
“Is this the time for a match?” Kiyose said quietly, as if to admonish Kakeru and Sakaki. “Focus all your attention on training.”
Sakaki’s teammate released his arms, and he straightened his dishevelled jersey. He looked at Kakeru and everyone from Chikusei-sou in order.
“Is it fun?” Sakaki asked in a low voice. “Is it fun to run with the comrades you finally made, Kurahara?”
“Enough,” Kiyose interrupted and then turned his back to Sakaki. “Let’s go back,” Kiyose prompted, but Kakeru didn’t move.
Don’t you dare use words like “comrade.” He was so angry and frustrated that the core of his head hurt. Kakeru escaped from Nico-chan’s arm bind and stood still while still glaring at Sakaki. Sakaki continued.
“Are you satisfied running around happily with a bunch of guys who sing your praises to the skies?”
“No!”
Weren’t you guys the ones who were always praising my speed? And yet, there was a bunch of jealousy and feelings of rivalry behind the scenes. I hated that high school track team. Pretending to be friendly on the surface and sabotaging each other behind the scenes, I hate you guys so much I wanna throw up.
Kakeru wanted to say that, but he was so angry that he couldn’t form the words. In a corner of his mind, he knew that there was nothing he could do no matter what Sakaki said.
Sakaki can’t forgive what I did. Endure it. Chanting that in his mind, Kakeru clenched his fists. It’s my fault he wasn’t able to take part in the last high school meet, so it’s natural he’s angry. If I just imagine it’s Nira barking, I can endure it.
“Even though you’re running around so happily now, why couldn’t you do it before? Why would you do something that invalidated all our hard work? All you had to do was endure it a little.”
I can’t, I can’t endure it anymore. Nira is cute, but Sakaki isn’t at all! Grilled by Sakaki, Kakeru easily threw away his endurance.
“I’m not much good at enduring, you know!” he hit back with a force that would make even a lion run away. I’m the one who wants to know “why”. Why did you guys just stay silent and endure that suffocating team atmosphere? The words flooded his chest, but it always took Kakeru a long time before he could say them. Kakeru’s counterattack was abruptly trampled upon by Sakaki’s vigor, which was like a marching elephant.
“You’re pretty full of yourself Kurahara!” Sakaki said in one breath with a low tone. “I’m guessing you thought you would be the only one who’d get an invitation from the university even if you weren’t in the meet, but too bad. You, at the end of the day, are selfish and egotistical…”
“I thought I told you that’s enough.”
Kiyose’s chilly voice froze the two who had the appearance of beasts battling in the savannah. Kakeru came to his senses and stealthily peeked at Kiyose, who was standing right behind him. Kiyose was expressionless as ice. Behind him, the twins were frantically warning him with body and hand gestures: “Stop it already” and “Haiji-san’s about to explode.”
When he perceived that Kakeru had lost his will to fight, Kiyose turned his penetratingly cold gaze to Sakaki.
“I understand your own grievances. But Kakeru’s a runner for Kansei University now. I want you to stop hurting and upsetting people so excessively.”
We’re going back now, Kiyose announced, and pushed Kakeru towards the forest path. Pulled by the hem of his shirt, Kakeru started walking with him.
“What did Kakeru do to Sakaki-kun?”
“Who knows? But I kinda get the feeling he’s pretty popular?”
King and Jouta sneakily let their imaginations run wild. Come now, Kiyose said, and the residents of Chikusei-sou started leaving the parking lot.
“The rest of you better be careful, he might betray you at the last minute.”
Kiyose turned slightly and smiled at the words Sakaki cast their way.
“We’ll show you how happily and seriously we’re running in the qualifiers. Oh, but you guys have your hands full with chores and odd jobs, so you might not have the time to watch us. Well, do your best to earn a regular position.”
“Who’s the immature one here?”
“Haiji’s getting pretty nasty.”
Nico-chan’s and Yuki’s shoulders were shaking. The fight for a regular position was irrelevant to the Kansei track club, so they were carefree and at ease.
“It means that even a small club with only ten people has its good points.” Musa looked at the frustrated TSU first-years with pity.
Kakeru peeked at Kiyose, walking next to him. The vein had disappeared, but he still had a grim expression on his face, and it seemed he was deep in thought about something. He had caused trouble again. He desperately swallowed down the sigh that was about to spill out of him.
“I’m sorry, Haiji-san.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
Thinking that he really was angry, Kakeru hesitated before rechoosing his words.
“Thank you, Haiji-san.”
“You’re welcome,” Kiyose said. The curve of his cheek was softer than before. I see, I should say thank you in times like these, Kakeru realized for the first time. Because Haiji-san stood up for me. His anger and frustration cleared away. With his feelings lightened, Kakeru started running.
“Get the bath running,” Kiyose told him, and he raised a hand in response.
Even in the highland wind that blew in from the night, Kakeru’s body remained warm.
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(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 6
part 5 here
Hello everyone, welcome back! Today, we will be watching episode 6. Last time, some really weird (well, weirder than normal), pre-established rule breaking things happened to some of our girls. How come? Is Kaede going to be alright? Will Yachiyo fill Iroha in on what happened? We'll have to watch to find out.
Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 6
We open this episode with a, uhhh... alluring...? Witch show. A group of unknown magical girls is hunting this witch. Seeing the amount of familiars, the girls in front decide to revise their plan, but the girl called Felicia just barges right in, forcing her team to follow after her.
Seems this girl has a real beef with witches.
Hey, Tsuruno's now in the opening!
Rather than continuing the scene before the opening, we are now back to Iroha, who stayed over at Yachiyo's place after the events from the previous episode.
The two eat breakfast, and we learn that Yachiyo's place used to be a bording house. That explains why it's so big.
Iroha thanks Yachiyo for cleaning her Soul Gem, to which Yachiyo is like "?" for a moment before connecting the dots. As it stands, it seems like Iroha doesn't know what happened and Yachiyo's not telling her either. On the one hand, that seems like a bad idea, on the other, well, we saw Kaede's reaction.
Yachiyo changes subject to Iroha's plans for today.
...thanks, Takarazaki Milk, for reminding us where Iroha's from.
Iroha's going to be investigating Kamihama some more, so Yachiyo advises her to keep being a magical girl a secret as best as she can, particularly if she's going east beyond Chuo Ward. Wonder why the direction matters.
...not really important, but I'm bothered I can't remember what this place is.
Iroha takes a walk around Sankyo Ward looking for Ui, finally arriving at a weeeird part of town.
Other than telling her not to walk around at night, maybe Yachiyo should've told her not to enter places that seem out of a horror movie. Also, maybe Iroha's just so used to witch Labyrinths this doesn't even register as bizarre to her anymore. (It's probably just Shaft being Shaft).
This... really is almost a Labyrinth, isn't it.
This couldn't get more suspicious if it tried. It might as well have someone screaming "scam!".
Iroha is offered a bottle and hesitates to accept until she sees
the kid berserker from before drinking it.
Still, I get Felicia, but did your parents not teach you not to accept things from strangers, Iroha?
But well, for the moment, the water itself seems to be fine, other than it being drugs. No way this'll blow up on their faces or anything.
In any case, Iroha goes back to her wandering. It seems she's in Kosho Ward right now.
Now, not only did Iroha accept things from strangers, she also did the one thing Yachiyo warned her about: she got outed as a magical girl.
Good thing the Soul Gem rings work as name tags too. It's written "Felicia".
Iroha's now being extorted by a 13 y.o.
Not that she's that much older, but still.
Thankfully(?) she's saved by a witch appearing.
This witch seems a bit like the one on the start of the episode. Felicia, of course, doesn't even need Iroha's help, she just wrecks everything with her big ol' hammer. Rather, it's more dangerous for Iroha herself to be there lol
Look at that cute smile.
Felicia goes right back to extorting... I mean, asking Iroha for payment. Iroha makes the fair point that she didn't ask for her help, but Felicia makes the even fairer point that a weakling like her would be dead if she hadn't, so Iroha finds herself with no choice but to pay up... in ice cream. Seems her allowance's running dry from coming to Kamihama every day.
The two go for some ice cream and start bonding. This girl is Felicia Mitsuki, and she makes a living as a mercenary who takes on jobs from other magical girls.
While Iroha's out doing ill-advised things and making new friends, Yachiyo's dropping by the Coordinator's and happens to overhear the team who had hired Felicia before, and...
Oh my god Mitama what have you done this time. This is blasphemy towards food, you know.
Alas, a wanted sign is kinda too much for a simple warning, don't you think?
Seems like Felicia's (un)famous for her berserker tendencies.
Yachiyo came here to hear some new information about the rumors, but first she has to deal with a new guest.
Ohhh talking about food, look who's here. It's Kyoko!
Apparently, Kyoko came here due to the decrease in witches in the surrounding regions. She expected she'd get into trouble hunting witches in another magical girl's territory, but Yachiyo says it's fine as long as she doesn't pick a fight with anybody. She's let down by how easy it was but says she'll just do whatever then. While she's at it, she also pokes at the same thing Mami said about someone gathering witches, but Yachiyo shoots her down right away. Did Kyoko hear something from Mami or did Kyuubei tell her this?
Back to Iroha and Felicia, the two are still on their lucky strike. Hey, seems the Lucky Owl Water wasn't a scam after all!
The two just keep on winning and winning (also who let kids into casino) and as expected Iroha's starting to get suspicious about their unnatural luck.
"I still got a dupe"
After winning amounts of money that would probably make broke college student Yachiyo jealous, the two go out to have lunch.
Felicia compliments Iroha's guts to enter the east like that, and Iroha takes the opportunity to ask her if she knows her sister. (not related but the way the table is set gives a great sense of the difference in age and tastes between these two. Iroha's a simple and responsible girl, so her food is only japanese cuisine and problably only as much as she can eat, while Felicia is a kid who probably never had this amount of money, so it looks like she just went ahead and ordered everything she wanted to eat.)
Felicia offers making an exclusive contract with Iroha, and Iroha asks why is Felicia even a mercenary at all. Felicia says if she doesn't work she can't eat, so Iroha asks where are her parents, to which Felicia responds, well...
They're dead. They were killed by a witch. That explains why Felicia's got a thing with witches.
As if she had guessed the uncomfortable atmosphere, Yachiyo calls. Iroha glances hesitatingly a moment at Felicia before answering. Seems Yachiyo has information about a new rumor.
...wait, isn't Lucky Owl Water the thing Felicia and Iroha drank just earlier? So it was a scam after all!
Perfect fashion sense there, Tsuruno.
Iroha and Felicia go meet up with Tsuruno and Yachiyo. Tsuruno knows who Felicia is, and Felicia knows who Yachiyo is, but has no idea about Tsuruno. While Tsuruno protests this, Yachiyo scolds Iroha for failing her one job, and warns her about Felicia's berserker tendencies.
Yachiyo confirms that Iroha has drank the Lucky Owl Water, and tells her the contents of the rumor about it. So basically, once you drink it, 24 lucky things will happen to you and after these 24 things are over a barrage of bad luck will follow. Yachiyo doesn't know what that "bad luck" actually entails, but she has found that even magical girls have gone missing this time.
Felicia thinks all this is a bunch of nonsense so Yachiyo tells her to just go away then. Felicia does just that, but kind-hearted Iroha stops her from going away by hiring her.
Felicia names her prices and Iroha's about to pay, but Yachiyo tells her to make it something besides money, so Iroha offers making Felicia dinner instead.
Look at her, Felicia really is a nice kid. Not only did she half her price instead of doubling it if it's not a witch, she's totally fine with being paid in food. I mean, there is the fact that she needs to work to eat but... she's not cut out for running a mercenary business.
Still, for the moment, Felicia's not part of the team.
Iroha and co. go back to where Iroha drank the Lucky Owl Water and, although everyone's still blissfully unaware of how bizarre this place is, it seems they now can see the familiars(?) as familiars. Is it that thing? The one where you can only perceive what you are looking for?
Felicia picks a fight with the... uh... Thing, please give us a name anime, and it disappears. Yachiyo chides Felicia for jumping the gun, and the two start fighting.
*Kaos noises*
Tsuruno appropriately cuts in, and Yachiyo theorizes that, just like the previous times, they'll have to find and beat the rumor's true form in order to undo it. Preferably before Iroha and Felicia's luck runs out.
Aaand Kyoko was listening in on them.
Iroha and co. start investigating the rumor. Seems the storyteller from the scenes explaining the contents of the rumors aren't just for show, they actually exist, though the girls hearing the rumor from it don't seem to notice it's not human.
Oh, there. That'd explain why Iroha and Felicia didn't notice the Owl Water the first time... still doesn't excuse them from accepting things from strangers though, lol
...look at Yachiyo's cool composure as she pins down poor Felicia. Brutal.
The girls chase after the storyteller familiar. Now peeps, if you've been paying close attention, you'll notice this episode has been counting down Iroha's and Felicia's luck ever since they drank the Lucky Owl Water. Neat, right? I won't post all of them since 24 is a lot, but did you guys catch it?
Anyways,
while chasing down the familiar, the girls are surrounded by a group of weirdos in hoods. Managing to string together a sentence with their impeccable coordination, they tell our girls they are obstructing the Magius's plans, whoever that is, by chasing the Rumor. It's just for a moment, but the screen flashes that one paper slip that's slapped everywhere there's rumors involved. I'm also pretty sure there's one inside Yachiyo's notebook too.
The group continues their speech and Yachiyo conveniently translates for us: they're saying they'll give them the water everyday, as long as they keep away from the Rumor.
Tsuruno protests that there are magical girls who got caught up in this rumor, but the group continue with their talk of Magius and telling them not to interfere.
I really like the panning in this one shot. You clearly get a sense of how while the older girls, Yachiyo and Tsuruno, know something's up and are willing to bonk the weirdos, Iroha and Felicia are in doubt about what these girls are saying. Their mind spaces are so different separating them just with the shadows wasn't enough: they had to be in different frames altogether.
...I don't think the person who decided on this thought that far, but still.
Anyway, Felicia bites their bait and asks about the "all witches will disappear" part. The weirdos, who know about Felicia, say they'll hire her. The reward? The elimination of all witches.
Too bad Iroha, seems your handmade dinner wasn't an appetizing enough reward.
So! Felicia decided to go with these weirdos, the Wings of the Magius, who say they know a way to get rid of all witches. Well... that'd better be a more efficient method than the one Suzune thought, or else they're not getting anywhere.
Going by what they said, these girls have something to do with the rumors... or rather, Rumors, because that's not confusing at all. They also said something about salvation, so they probably have something to do with the rampant dream-ads that the magical girls outside Kamihama are having. How rude. I wonder how much would you have to pay for one of those?
Jokes aside, with this, we finally have a new lead on the weird things going on in Kamihama. And not only us, either. Kyoko also learnt something about the Rumors. Which brings up the question: where is Mami? She should be investigating Kamihama, but she hasn't shown up since she tried to shoot Iroha. Weird.
Well, the only way to answer the obscene amount of questions this show likes to bring up is by watching, but before I finish this up I'd like to write down the numbers on this episode:
24-23: Felicia's ice cream's package; 23-22: raffle ticket; 22-21: raffle drawing; 21-20: falling coins; 20-19: slot machine's label; 19-18: bet nº; 18-17: fever!; 17-16: Magireco's game currency (lol); 16-15: the table's number; 15-14: the paper one of the familiars is holding; 14-13: formed by the light on the ground.
Nothing lucky happens after that one, so I think these are the ones in this episode. I feel this was the first time in all my rewatches I caught the one on Felicia's ice cream and the one the familiar was holding, so maybe I got some of that luck too, haha.
This ran on longer than I thought it would for Felicia's introduction episode. I'll be releasing you people from this barrage of text now, so I hope I'll still see you next time when we watch episode 7. Have a good morning/afternoon/evening! Bye-bye!
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Groceries
Pairing: Castor Nax x Nicole Blake
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: Nic takes Castor out to get groceries for the first time
A/N: Another Castor fic!!! I love this Kryptonian, I just can’t get enough of him
As they walked into the large grocery store, Castor stopped in his tracks and stared. His mouth hung open slightly as he looked at all of the people and carts full of food. Nic grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, somehow managing to pull the Kryptonian. Maybe it was because the moment she touched his wrist, his feet came to life and he was able to carry himself once more. She pulled him over to some carts, and let go of his wrist as she grabbed one, pulling it away from the others.
“What is this place?” He asked, still gaping at the high ceiling and smell of baked goods from the store’s bakery.
Nic laughed lightly. “This is a grocery store. I told you this.”
“I didn’t expect it to be this… big.”
“Well,” Nic smiled, “if there’s one thing that humans love, it’s food. Now come on.” She pushed the cart in a random direction. “We have to stop by the pharmacy first.” Castor followed her curiously. They arrived at the pharmacy, and she stopped the cart. “Wait here.”
“What, um, what is a pharmacy?” Castor asked her as she walked over to the counter.
“Oh it’s where we get medicine. I needed to pick up my medication first!” She called over her shoulder before approaching the counter and smiling at the cashier.
Castor’s face dropped, and he paled. Medicine? Was she sick? Dying? Have some sort of disease? No, no, no. She just took him in and she’s dying? That couldn’t be, Castor thought to himself. His mind started forming all sorts of thoughts, attempting to find out the cures to a million different unknown human diseases. He lost his family, he wasn’t about to lose his friend too. Nic walked back over and put the white bag in the basket.
“Are you dying?” He asked her bluntly.
“W-what?” Nic paused, staring at him.
“You came here to get medicine, are you dying? Sick?” He repeated.
“No, no, I’m not—” she let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not sick, or dying. I was just… picking up my birth control medication.”
Castor furrowed his brows. “Oh? Does it control the rate of which you give birth? Humans are… they’re fascinating—”
“No! No! That’s—” she cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. Her face grew bright red. “They, uh, they prevent me from… conceiving if I were ever to… you know…” Castor stared at her, and Nic wasn’t sure if he really understood what she was talking about. It still embarrassed her. “Anyway, let’s go shopping!” She laughed nervously, pushing the cart in the direction of the food aisles. Castor followed her, eager to see what else the grocery store held.
They headed down a few aisles, Nic grabbed things off the shelves and crossed them off her grocery list. Castor followed, observing all of the people buying their own food and how many varieties of the same food there are. He asked more than once why there were so many different kinds of pickles, and how many different types of cheese existed. Nic tried to answer any of his inquiries while shopping.
Castor had wandered off a few minutes ago, and Nic was only slightly panicking. It was a big store, and it was Castor’s first time in one. If he got lost… it would be almost impossible for him to find her. She stayed where she was at, browsing the different cans of tomato paste and diced tomatoes. She was starting to wonder if she should buy some, make some spaghetti one night and introduce Castor to the world of her favorite Italian cuisines.
There was a rustling noise, and the cart justled a bit. Nic looked over to find Castor smiling, and then she looked into the cart. Her eyes widened at the various cereal boxes, bags of gummy candy, and even some chocolate bars.
“Castor what the—” she looked at him in shock. “You can’t get all of that.”
He frowned. “But I want it.”
“I’m—I’m not paying for all of that. Put it back.” She told him sternly, almost like a mother scolding her child. Nic never believed she would have to be the responsible one for once.
“I thought you might say that, so I got you something as a bribe.” Castor almost boasted. He reached into the cart and grabbed a chocolate bar, holding it out to her. It was a Snickers bar, her favorite. “I, uh, recognized the label. I saw you had one in your room.”
“You went into my room? When?”
“...when you were at work.” He admitted. “Do you want this or not?”
Nic stared at the chocolate bar in his hand for a moment before gently taking it from him. “You can have one, but put everything else back okay?” Castor sighed, pushing his glasses up before picking up the contents he put in the cart. He left a small bag of gummy worms, then went to go put the rest back.
When he got back, Nic was trying to reach the top shelf for a can of corn. She had climbed the shelves, but it was so far back she still couldn’t reach it. He approached her, and pulled her off the shelves.
“Allow me, Nicole.” He said, and she swore she heard a little bit of arrogance in his tone. She watched as he did exactly what she had, but he reached back and grabbed the can. He got down and handed it to her. Nic’s eyes widened at the metal shelves. The bottom shelf was bent where his feet had been, and the top shelf was nearly crushed by his hand.
Nic quickly placed the can in the cart before grabbing his arm. “Move, move, move.” She whispered, pulling him along. She hoped no one noticed him utterly destroying the store shelving.
The next few aisles went by without incident, and Castor mostly behaved himself. He asked many questions, including about the nutrition labels on the food packets and why Nic wasn’t looking at their helpful information. She was pretty sure she’s never talked this much on a grocery trip before, not that she minded any. It was just a new experience, although next time she was determined to keep him on a tighter lease.
A cart nearby had stopped, and Nic smiled at the baby that sat in the basket, sucking on its fist. She gave it a small wave, and the baby stared at her. Nic giggled to herself and whispered a small “Hi there.” to the baby.
Castor looked between Nic and the baby for a moment. “Why are you smiling at that baby?”
“Because it’s cute.” She said giggling, then pushed the cart to go to the next aisle. Castor followed close behind.
“But you don’t know that baby do you? And it can’t be yours, it looks nothing like you.” Castor rambled. “Why would you greet a stranger’s baby?”
“I love babies and little kids, and I just wanted to smile at it.” She explained, browsing the jars of peanut butter. “Honestly, Cas, nothing is cuter than a baby in a shopping cart.”
“If you say so…”
The shopping was done, and Nic got all that she needed, along with a few extra things as per Castor’s request. They got to the counter and Nic started putting items on the conveyor belt with the help of Castor. The cashier rang up the groceries, and Nic began packing them into bags and placing them into the cart. Castor watched, intrigued and curious. He wanted to help, but he was unsure if he would break something. He was still getting used to his strength, even if it’s only been a few weeks. Just the other day, he accidentally ripped the bathroom door off its hinges. Nic never showed any anger towards him, though, when he accidentally broke something with his strength or accidentally destroyed the tv with his heat vision. She was patient, much more patient than he ever expected her to be.
“Oh my god.” Nic muttered as she looked at the almost $300 total for her groceries. She was used to it barely passing $100 on a good day, but now she has someone else living with her, and she’s learned that he has a very big appetite. As she swiped her credit card, Nic looked back at Castor. “We really need to find you a job.”
He pushed the cart out of the store, Nic finding it a little too heavy even for her. Once they reached the car, Nic started loading the bags into the trunk. As she finished, Castor smiled at her.
“This was fun.” He said before opening the passenger door and getting in.
Nic laughed a little, shaking her head as she put the cart away. She walked back to the car and got in the driver’s seat. “So you had fun? I did too. It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun shopping with someone.” She admitted softly.
“I would love to come back here with you again.” He told her.
“Oh trust me, you will.” She said, putting in the keys and starting the engine. “But you are getting a job. That’s for sure. I can’t spend all of the money that I make.”
“Maybe one day I can do the shopping for you.” He smiled.
#mywriting#castor nax#my kryptonian#otp: you’re my kryptonite#self insert fic#self insert community#self insert#self shipping community#self shipping#self ship#self ship community
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Blooming
Blooming
Soulmates had always been a lovely concept. Everyone dreamed about meeting their destined one whether they admitted it or not. A soft smile would appear on Megumi’s face as she thought about them like fairy tales, beautiful but distant. She had one too, the tattoo on her bicep assured her of that, but with her young age and chaotic school life, it all seemed so far away. A distant future that could be shoved away as she was bombarded with present worries.
Soulmates were nothing more than a casual topic to giggle about when too much of the rice wine was passed around in the twilight hours of sleepovers at the Polar Star dorms. But the topic rarely went much deeper with all the students focused on honing their skill rather than affairs of the heart. You could ask 10 different people at any given moment the best way to prepare animal hearts, some preferred skewers and others a slow roast, but human hearts were a mystery. Everyone knew you had to tenderize the organ with enzymes and marinades before consumption but barely anyone knew how to soften the heart of the one they loved.
The only exception was the first reveal of tattoos as it was the only time the topic was explored. The hum of excitement, the small flicker of hope, and the wonder as you fantasize what your future soulmate would be like in the company of friends. When Yuki saw Megumi’s tattoo she squealed with wide eyes, “Woah! A tiger! So intense compared to our sweet Megumi!” Her arm was adorned with a fierce tiger with flames flickering from its paws and piercing amethyst eyes.
However, with the upcoming Autumn elections and Megumi’s shift from floundering to flourishing, the subject of soulmates was swept underneath the rug. Her transition from grasping and fraying threads to weaving her own path was exciting but consuming. Megumi was beginning to deepen her expertise and her mind was swimming with skills to polish and recipes to try rather than romance.
Megumi is surprised to see her name on the board to compete for the upcoming Autumn elections but isn’t when she hears the grumbling of her classmates. Whispers of contempt, snide remarks, and nasty insinuations caused Megumi to freeze. A tiny voice in her head says they’re not wrong. She had been on the verge of expulsion twice in one school term and the mere memory made a shiver go down her spine. An audacious declaration of a purple-haired student unexpectedly broke Megumi out of her reprieve. Megumi sputtered words of thanks.
She is soon overwhelmed with an assault of questions and is quivering under her classmate, who introduced herself as Miyoko, as she is trapped between the taller student’s arms and body. The barrage soon ends when Megumi brought up Souma.
“Heh, so you just got helped along by a guy? Sorry I bothered you,” Miyoko stated and left almost as quickly as she came. Megumi wondered why Miyoko seemed upset by the fact. What was wrong with relying on her friends? She thinks of Isshiki’s gentle guidance, Yuki’s beaming smile, Ryoko’s assurance, and Souma’s unwavering confidence in her. They all warmed her heart and gave her the strength to face the upcoming challenges. A text from Yuki saying to meet up at the dorms ends Megumi’s trail of thoughts and interest in Miyoko.
It’s a strange and new feeling when the Autumn Elections start. A couple months ago Megumi would have been in near tears while fumbling left right and centre. She’s not so confident that her nervousness has disappeared but there’s a certain thrum of excitement and clarity. The murmurs of the crowd, the gaze of the judges, they all existed but they’re fuzzy in comparison to her dish at hand. Though accidentally allowing the monkfish to roll away was not exactly her finest work. She thinks of a dear friend for good luck then butchers the monkfish with a flourish that demonstrates the years of practice that went into the skill.
Megumi was in for two surprises that day. One is making it past the preliminaries despite the tough competition. Of course, it was something Megumi had hoped for, but she was reluctant to let that small sprout overtake her lest disappointment consumed it. Now though, her hope had bloomed into a shy but beautiful bluebell in her heart. The other surprise caught her completely off guard. Miyoko had somehow managed to apologize to her in a sincere yet chic and cool way. With the promise of support and future help, Megumi barely remembered her manners and spewed words of gratitude quickly. The encounter flustered her slightly but brought a grin to her visage. Seeds of carnations are sown in her heart without Megumi noticing. Years pass before they bloom in full force.
After holding her breath for what felt like an eternity of fighting in both central and blue, Megumi enjoyed getting to simply breathe freely. Her classmates shared a similar sentiment as Megumi discussed with Hisako the benefits of different dried vegetables and herbs over tea and sweets. She had made mochi donuts glazed with basil blueberry sauce to match the soothing tea Hisako had prepared.
“Erina will be joining us in a bit, she’s held up at a meeting,” Hisako informed her while sitting down. She gracefully lifted the teacup to her lips and allowed the drink to soothe her strained body. However, it wasn’t until Hisako sunk her teeth into the treat and the tension from her shoulder was relieved did Megumi smile.
“Your food is as comforting as ever,” Hisako complimented but auburn eyes did not meet Megumi’s citrine pair as hers were on Hisako’s soulmate tattoo. Between Hisako’s collar bones was a sophisticated golden crown adorned with diamonds.
“Thinking about your soulmate?” Hisako guessed.
“Oh! No, well, I mean a little, I guess. But! Mostly about how you and Erina are such a nice fit,” Megumi sputtered. The vegetable chef was many things but apparently furtive was not one of them. Gathering her courage, Megumi inquired, “How did you know?”
Hisako mused for a couple moments before answering, “I suppose I always knew but it took a long time for me to admit it. Erina has a regal air, that has always stayed constant, but,” Hisako trailed off reflecting on the past. Megumi silently waited with rapt attention.
“I had put Erina on a pedestal, constantly insisting on calling her Erina-sama, and, in a way, created a distance between us. But when I finally decided to walk beside her instead of behind her,” a smile crept onto Hisako’s face that she couldn’t fight off even if she wanted to, “I knew we were meant to be. Even without a tattoo, I’d be certain that we were soulmates.”
A small gasp left Megumi’s lips at the bold proclamation. It soon turned into a cute giggle. Hisako raised her eyebrow, but the smile never left her face. “Oh, that’s so sweet! A soulmate story just like those in a fairy tale,” Megumi commented with an amiable grin which radiated with sincerity.
“Perhaps,” Hisako reflected, “But I think you also bring out the sweet side in others.” Megumi’s eyes widen and she flushes at the statement. Hisako never minces words to appease others and speaks what she believes to be true. A compliment from her is a treasure to Megumi. The moment passed as Erina arrived, her presence grabbing both girls’ attention.
“Sorry for being late,” Erina apologized quickly.
“Don’t be, I already explained it to Tadokoro-san,” Hisako responded.
“Let us know if there’s any way we can help out,” Megumi added. Erina was always a busy bee but being a third year had only increased her schedule with ample paperwork and meetings.
“No, no, these people just dragged on the meeting unnecessarily, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle,” Erina insisted as she sat down, “Forget about that meeting, I heard something about soulmates?” Now that Hisako had happily accepted their soulmate bond, Erina never shied away from the topic. Megumi remembered meeting during first year and being scarred from Erina’s explosion whenever the topic was brought up.
“Well, I’m curious if Tadokoro-san has any ideas about who her soulmate might be,” Hisako admitted. Immediately a rosy pink flooded her cheeks. Megumi might have heard rumours that a certain chef specializing in Chinese cuisine had a vegetable related tattoo. And maybe, Megumi adored conversing with Miyoko about cooking and how her eyes lit with an intense burning flame as she discussed her passions. Also, Megumi might have a tendency to stare at Miyoko’s face, her heart fluttering without fail when Miyoko’s plum eyes met her own accompanied by a smile. But she held her fledgling wish close to her heart. Many people never met their soulmate, even going as far as to cover their tattoo.
“Who is the lucky person?” Hisako asked, the corner of her lips tugging higher up when she saw Megumi’s flustered expression.
“No one!” Megumi squealed, “It … It’s just … I just have a guess, maybe.” Citrine eyes are steadily glued to the tea as knowing smiles are passed between Hisako and Erina.
“You must find out Tadokoro-san! This is our last year,” Erina insisted. Megumi’s eyes go as wide as the teacup saucers before them.
“Not at this very moment,” Hisako amended, “But soon.” Megumi meekly nodded and gratitude flooded her heart as Hisako directed the conversation elsewhere.
A few days later while staring at the doors to the Chinese Cuisine RS, Megumi felt inclined to procrastinate the matter further. A sharp glance from Erina had sent Megumi toward her maybe-soulmate but now she was only a few steps away her mind blanked. How on earth was she supposed to casually bring up the topic? Hey! Can I see your soulmate tattoo because I think we might be soulmates but if not that’s cool too - Just imagining the scenario was enough to fluster Megumi and send her into a state of disarray.
“Hey Megumi, are you here for a Shokugeki too?” Souma asked. Megumi yelped, unaware of her best friend’s presence. “I was gonna test out this new Chinese dish I made, and I figured the best way would be a shokugeki!” he explained unfazed by Megumi’s surprise.
“S-souma-kun! Oh, I guess … well …” Megumi struggled to find words but as the red head’s megawatt smile shone, she got a growing feeling that her emotions were not being conveyed.
“I’ll let Hojo know right now, save you the trouble of writing one of those letters,” Souma offered. Megumi gulps down an immediate rejection. They were chefs and if words were failing her, as they often did, perhaps a dish would be the best.
“Thank you Souma-kun! A shokugeki is perfect,” Megumi declared. Souma barreled in though not many blinked as the school had somewhat acclimatized to the chaotic chef. Megumi traced the word person on her hand, challenging her possible soulmate to a Shokugeki was enough to send her heart into overdrive.
“What theme?” Miyoko’s voice snapped Megumi out of her trance.
She summoned her courage and responded, “You! Or, um, your personality. A dish that is you.” Miyoko tilted her head ever so slightly, such an abstract theme was quite rare. “If you’re okay with that,” Megumi hastily added.
“Let’s do it,” Miyoko agreed. Dates and details were decided in a flurry and each chef left in preparation for their upcoming battle.
Before Megumi left to her room, a firm hand grasped her shoulder. “Good luck Megumi!!” Souma stated before heading off to the kitchen.
“You too!” Megumi shouted in hopes of him hearing. Did Souma’s smile contain a hint of insight and mischief or was Megumi starting to hallucinate? She quickly brushed off the thought in favour of brainstorming on how to create a dish that conveyed all the emotions brewing in her heart.
The day of Shokugeki arrives and Megumi’s emotions are on a wild roller coaster. The shokugeki itself brings no fear but Megumi has no idea what to do after. Does she ask to see Miyoko’s soulmate tattoo? Does she let it go? Does she confess regardless? Her mind is spiralling and suddenly just the thought of soulmates is enough to get her heart racing. The endless cycle continued until Megumi arrived on stage where she takes a page from Souma’s book and decided to just let the cooking do the talking and whatever came after would come.
The crowd watched their every movement with anticipation but somehow Megumi felt freer than ever. The floodgates of her tumultuous emotions opened as she was put her entire heart on this plate. Her wishes, hopes, intentions, all laid out in a bout of courage and vulnerability intertwined together.
Megumi serves ankimo, an exquisite delicacy Megumi manages to infuse with hospitality, accompanied by a salad of fresh and pickled vegetables. The judges compliment her use of Kogiku pumpkin and Tachikawa burdock root, but her eyes are glued to Miyoko taking a bite of an Akasuji daikon. Miyoko’s subsequent grin has Megumi’s heart soaring and it isn’t until this moment that Megumi how much she has fallen for her confident friend. God, she hoped so much that it was her, that by the end of this her hope would blossom rather than wilt.
Miyoko serves xiao long bao with the dumplings folded precisely sixteen times and each with a unique filling. Truffle broth, shrimp stuffing, all crafted carefully, leaving Megumi in awe of how Miyoko prepared so much in so little time. The broth bursts in her mouth and encompassed her taste buds in a heavenly sensation. The Laohu Cai, also known as tiger salad, makes her heart skip a beat and fed her hope further.
By the end Megumi wins 3-0, the judges congratulating both chefs on the spectacular dishes, but Megumi wins them over with the overflowing love that her dish can barely contain.
“Congratulations, you’ve definitely earned your seat on the elite ten,” Miyoko praised.
Megumi took a deep breath and declared, “I thought of you while making the dish.”
“Since we’re not leaving anything barred, I am going show you this too,” Miyoko explained as she removed her shoe. On her ankle was a vegetable yokai surrounded by snowflakes. Megumi was so happy that tears threaten to spill from her eyes. She thinks back to the alumni comparing her to all types of yokai from household gods to koro-pok-guru. Megumi quickly rolls up her sleeve to reveal the purple-eyed tiger on her arm. Miyoko smiled while taking her hand and Megumi feels a garden of forget-me-nots bloom in her heart.
Flower Meanings:
Bluebells – Grateful
Carnations – Fascination, distinction, love
Forget-me-not – True love
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Cassiopeia’s Date.
Cassiopeia wasn’t sure what to do. It had been centuries…no, millennia, since they had thought of doing anything like this – they weren’t even sure why they’d agreed to this. Celebi was sweet…and very supportive through everything, despite all the stuff that had happened and internal politics. Nonetheless…ever since the days with Almira, the Mew had never even considered the possibility of a date. So it was with more than a little trepidation that they now found themselves floating over Hau’oli city, where the time traveler had promised to meet them.
It didn’t take very long. A familiar “ZING!” sound, followed by a laugh only slightly lighter than the Mew’s, echoed through the air. It put Cass at ease, as they’d heard it many times before. With a final quick cough the Mew whirled around to see their companion.
“Hello, Celebi.”
“Heya, Cass! Ready for a night on the town?”
“I believe so. Did you have a plan for the evening?”
“Oh sure. I wouldn’t ask you out and expect you to come up with all the ideas – though of course if you have any I’m all ears.”
“To be honest, I hadn’t thought of anything. It’s been some time since my last visit to this city…and…even longer since I’ve tried anything like this.”
“Well, for what it’s worth…I think you look nice.”
Despite themselves, Cass can’t help but smile.
“Thanks. I did absolutely nothing different. You’re not shabby yourself.”
“We must both just be naturally attractive!” laughs Celebi again. This time, Cass can’t help but join in.
Celebi pauses a moment, then presents a bit of gold. “Obviously neither of us needs food, but I don’t think any date is complete without dinner. Want to start there?”
“Well…I’m not opposed to enjoying some prepared cuisine. I don’t think it’d be all that wise for us to show up as is, though.”
“I daresay not. We’ll both need to use our human forms.”
“I haven’t used mine in a while.”
“I know. No one remembers what it looks like, Cass. I’m told it’s the stuff of legend.”
“Well…I guess you’ll know in a moment.” A flash of light follows the sentence, only to reveal a slightly framed person with light pink hair and middling stature. The transformed Mew would fit into an Alolan crowd nearly perfectly, were it not for the psychic bubble surrounding them and the almost piercingly bright blue eyes revealing ancient power behind a calm and vaguely shy expression. A lightly tattered cardigan over a blue polo paired with tan slacks combine with a straw hat and pink bandanna to complete the ensemble.
“Ta-da,” murmurs Cass. “I think perhaps my style has become dated with the times.”
“Not at all!” Celebi says. “If anything, I think it’s a timeless getup. And I would know, of course.”
Cass grins, flattered. “Well, let’s see yours.”
“Sure, but after YOUR reveal I feel rather out of my league,” Celebi jokes. Rather than vanishing and reappearing in a flash of light, Celebi spins in place, over and over, faster and faster, becoming nearly invisible from sheer speed – and then it stops. In place of the time traveler’s normal form is a slightly stocky person with black, curious eyes, short, earthy colored hair, and a perpetually amused expression. A pocketwatch dangles from Celebi’s new vest pocket, which hangs loosely over a light breezy tee and black shorts.
“I don’t exactly clean up like you, Cass.”
“That’s quite alright. You’re…very good-looking. Wonder how I didn’t notice previously.”
“You’ve had quite a lot on your mind for some time. Come on, we’ve got a reservation.”
The two descend gently to the ground and then enter the city, finding themselves outside a restaurant.
“This is the place. I hear very good things about it from the humans. Come on.”
Celebi holds the door for Cass, who enters and waits.
“Reservation for Sally B.” Celebi says to the host, who nods and leads them to a table. Cass can’t help but giggle a little at the pun, causing the host to look at them somewhat askance.
Once they’re seated they’re handed a menu. Cass looks over the menu for a bit, but then looks up at their date and notices Celebi’s eyes and can’t help but be surprised at how pleasant they are in a human form. There’s a lot of curiosity and zest for life in those eyes….but they’re gentle too. It’s hard, once they notice, to look away, but they manage to do so when Celebi looks back up from the menu.
“This looks pretty good, don’t you think?” Celebi points out an item.
“Certainly,” Cass replies absently, still a bit flustered by almost getting caught in the act.
“It’s a tray for two, so if you want we can share it.”
“Sounds great,” the Mew nods quickly.
“You okay?”
“Oh yes, I was just examining something of interest is all.”
“Where?”
“Oh, it…uh…moved.”
“Oh…okay.”
The two fall silent for about a minute, suddenly unsure what to say. The silence is broken by the server asking about what they’d like to drink. Cass takes the initiative and picks out their beverages, remembering thanks to a previous meeting what Celebi likes. In the meantime, Celebi has some time to look at their companion’s eyes – which quickly results in the former getting entirely lost. Cass smiles lightly as the server leaves, then looks over at their nearly entranced date.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, y-yes!” Celebi stammers. “Sorry, I was, uh, sidetracked. Um…good choice for the drinks.”
“Thank you. I thought you might like it. Server walkes away before I could mention food. You said you wanted the pasta, right?”
“Indeed, long as you’re good with having it too!”
“Oh, of course.”
“Perfect!”
When the server returns this time Celebi places the order. With the third party gone, the two can’t help but make eye contact, intentionally this time, and smile a moment.
“Heh, well, this is more or less what I expected for the beginning,” Celebi grins. “It’s funny – we’ve known each other for years and now for some random reason I’m not sure what to say.”
“We’re both a bit tongue-tied,” Cass admits. “I think it’s due to the unusual nature of our meeting. Still…for what it’s worth, I’m rather enjoying myself.”
“Me too,” Celebi smiles. “I’m glad we came.”
Before Cassiopeia replies the server returns once more with a tray.
“That was fast!” Celebi remarks.
“The kitchen staff are really on top of it,” replies the server pleasantly.
“Well, thank you!” Cass nods, eyeing the tray with anticipation.
The remainder of dinner passes rather quietly, but not for lack of conversation – rather, the two telepaths catch up on thousands of years of experience, from guarding Ilex shrine to meeting Team Recover. Both are surprised at seeing what the other has accomplished…and though neither says it, both are impressed by the others mannerisms in a way they hadn’t been before. When the food is finished, Celebi walks over to Cassiopeia’s chair, offers a hand, and they walk out arm-in-arm, having left a gold nugget for a tip.
When they reach the beach Celebi removes their sandals and places them in the other arm, but Cass doesn’t follow suit.
“The sunset is gorgeous,” remarks the time-traveler.
“Indeed,” Cassiopeia replies. “I’ve seen it set over four million times and yet I never grow tired of it.”
“I sometimes like to dart back in time just to see the first one.”
“Sounds marvelous.”
“It’s stunning…and yet – time has not diminished the beauty. I can think of someone else for who that’s true.”
Cassiopeia doesn’t reply to this, anxious about making assumptions.
“Yes, I do mean you.”
“Oh, uh…right! I mean, um…thanks, Celebi. Really, thank you.”
Celebi blinks. “I’ve never seen you stumble over your words like that, Cass. Are you unused to compliments about your appearance?”
“Compliments in general are not something I anticipate often,” Cass replies honestly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like I was—”
“It’s okay,” Celebi says kindly. “I’m just sorry no one said it before.”
Cass nods. “I really did appreciate it. I just wish I’d thought of something nice I could have quickly said back.”
“I didn’t compliment you just so you’d return it. Don’t try to force it. I’m already having a good time just hanging out with you.”
“And you just did it again!” Cass laughs. “You really are too kind.”
“I like to call it like it is.”
“You always have had an integrity unmatched by others.”
“See? There’s the gentle kindness you’re known for.”
Cassiopeia blushes. “Am I known for that?”
“Yes, though it needs to be said more often. In fact, I’m going to say it every time we meet from now on, and twice on Sundays!”
“That’s quite a time commitment.”
“I’m very good with time,” replies Celebi with a smirk.
The two walk down the beach for about a quarter mile, this time actually silent. Without exchanging any words, they both plant themselves by a large rock and look as the sun vanishes over the horizon.
“This is very peaceful. I haven’t felt this peaceful in a long time,” Cassiopeia says, leaning slightly on Celebi.
“I haven’t been this calm. We both work so much I think we forget to appreciate the things we’re looking to protect.”
“Indeed…I would agree that that’s a fair conclusion to draw about us.”
“You know what, though? Tonight, if for a little while, I felt alright just not worrying about any of it. Spending this time with you has been very fun. Thank you, Cassiopeia. I don’t think I could ever have done this without you.”
Cassiopeia considers protesting that Celebi could, but then brushes it aside. “You helped me see some places where I am more insecure than I realized, and work towards resolving them. It’s strange – I never thought I’d be interested in a date again, and yet I can’t imagine having missed out on this experience tonight. I have you to thank for that, Celebi.”
“So…think you’ll take a second chance on me? I’d certainly like to spend more time with you.”
“Yes,” Cassiopeia smiles. “I think I’d like that very much myself.”
Celebi nods, smiles, and snuggles up close to the Mew.
A passing stranger walks by the two on the way home, but if said stranger had waited only a few moments longer, they would have been filled with wonder at the sight of a pleasantly content couple suddenly transforming into the guardians of reality and time. If they had waited just a bit longer than that, they would have seen the Celebi kiss the Mew on the cheek, then fly away while the Mew watched, a mix of happiness and curiosity in their eyes, before they too took off into the night.
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Stretch Thursday
Prompt: "In front of the protagonist, the grocery store clerk just packed several large glass bottles on top of the eggs. The protagonist hears them crack."
Constraint: write in first person
(I vaguely knew how this was going to end, but everything between the first paragraph and the actual prompted moment, and then most of what came after, surprised me on its way out of my fingers.)
Gods above, could this checkout line move any slower, I wondered. Sure, there were only two people in front of me, but the haughty swaggering lump of a human being in front was questioning everything, in search of a nonexistent bargain:
(readmore should be right here but it's not hey tumblr please build a functional app ever maybe?)
Why didn't you accept this week-out-of-date coupon? Why did that coupon only apply to one package of frog eyes, not four. Are you sure this naga skin rucksack isn't on sale? I'm pretty sure the sign said it was on sale. (the leather shoulder bag in a similar size was on sale.)
The poor clerk - Ashley, their nametag said, a pin on the lanyard instructing people to use She or They pronouns - was the only person on checkout duty in the early afternoon. She seemed flustered, but answered every single question in the same patient, even tone of voice.
I wouldn't be able to do that. Actually, when I worked in retail, I got fired from three different jobs for intimidating customers when they started acting like that. Like just because they cleared out a nest of giant rats on the outskirts of town or prevented a band of goblins from establishing a camp in the caves just across the river, that they're entitled to luxury and hero worship, or at least special privileges, from the rest of us. Thank goodness I finally got a job with the local theater, my talents in projecting illusions finally celebrated for dressing the actors up with "no effort" (on the part of the makeup team, not that I don't stretch my magic as far as it can go and then some every night at rehearsal and for hours at a time eight days straight when our shows are open to the public, to turn the bright-but-plain frocks into resplendent ball gowns and every other bit of nonsense that was asked of me). And that's so much better than when I was viewed with suspicion by peers and teachers alike because apparently creating tiny intangible dragons or silent fireworks and lying about my character are the exact same thing, who knew?
I reeled that train of thought back in. There was no need to be bitter about high school bullies considering I'm now living the (pre)Broadstreet dream, and most of them... Well, even the "successful" ones still work ten hour days at tedious office jobs to keep the heat on and the wards up.
The one thing that bitter spiral was good for was that by the time I forced it out of my head, Ashley was calling "have a nice day, Sir" in the same perfectly-bland tone at Mr Cheapskate as he stalked off, carrying three bags on each arm and leaving his cart half-blocking the checkout lane.
He nearly got blown off his feet as he stepped from the store's heat and calm across the ward line, a generous two feet outside the door, into the frigid wind the meteorologists were calling a sneak peek into the blizzard that should hit this weekend. Good riddance.
I met Ashley's eyes as they tapped the rune to pull the items on the conveyor belt forward. I rolled my eyes sympathetically at her forced smile and dead-exhausted eyes. (Not literally dead! Apparently my brain was stuck in high school again because I could almost hear Mrs Primfoot growling about teens and their inability to describe things accurately. Come on. The zombie revolts in Rhodesia were fifteen years ago, and hyperbole is hilarious. Do people just lose all sense of humor when they turn 30?)
Ashley didn't roll their eyes back, she probably worried about losing her job over disrespecting customers in front of other customers, but their lips twitched and their smile seemed a little less stiff.
"Just these two things?" Ashley asked, with professionally-faked curiosity, picking up a large carton of eggs to scan them. "Eggs and milk to wait out the blizzard?" Eighteen goose eggs was a bit much for waiting out a two day storm, even for a bigger family, but some people liked to overprepare. Gods knew I'd seen weirder purchases when I had to check people out. I'd seen weirder people too. This woman, with her sapphire blue, floor-length dress and gray roots belying her dark brown hair, appeared absolutely normal, even with her curls adding at least two inches in height, making her appear barely shorter than me.
"Those are golden goose eggs," the woman corrected her in a syrupy sweet tone that sent a shiver down my spine. Ashley's eyes widened - probably in recognition because they'd been too professional for anything else, but I wouldn't have blamed her for expressing horror. The only customers worse than the adventurers who thought they were better than everyone else, were the governor's many cousins, who were obscenely rich through none of their own effort and not only thought they were better than everyone else but that we were all too naive to understand that.
"For my sweet niece's fourth birthday," the woman continued as though it were obvious.
I couldn't hold back a snort and immediately faked a coughing fit so she wouldn't turn and lecture me in that same patronizing tone.
Even if a dozen golden eggs wouldn't cost me over a month's wages, the yolks, with the flakes of gold leaf suspended throughout, gave them an awful texture no matter how you prepared the eggs, and they inevitably tasted metallic. No toddler would appreciate that, not even if she was already spoiled so rotten as to only accept the priciest of gifts. Well, if the kid was allowed to smash the eggs raw and then go "panning for gold" she would probably have a blast, but something about this woman's perfectly symmetric makeup, smooth, manicured nails, and shockingly hairless arms told me that she would accept nothing less than the most picture perfect cuisine, which meant she was likely to boil the golden eggs so she could present them, polished to the classic shine.
Regular egg yolks turn chalky and disgusting when you boil them, boiled golden eggs are infinitely worse.
Ashley didn't respond beyond a mild "ah, of course" as they efficiently double-bagged the eggs and set them aside.
The woman made a vague disgruntled noise in the back of her throat, but didn't say anything.
Ashley reached for the next item, the package of six tall carafes that I was now sure were something other than plain milk. Sure enough, when Ashley picked up the package, their hand moved in an arc, as though the carafes weighed less than they expected. The additional height caused the yellow light from the enchanted ceiling to dance across the bottles, drawing my eyes to the anti-theft runes stamped on each one.
Suddenly I recognized them. If I were going to blow an entire paycheck on luxuries, I certainly wouldn't buy the two or three golden eggs I could afford with that amount, but I might splurge on a set of these corruption-identifying bottles. They were supposed to be equally good for home canning, for jams and pickles and the like, and for potions. the not-quite-clear, milky white glass promised to turn sickly green if the contents of each bottle went bad, or if poison was added, intentionally or otherwise, or if the properties of the potion inside changed even if it was still safe to drink.
As Ashley was starting to tuck the bottles into a new bag, the woman cleared her throat. "Dearie, I'm sure those will fit in with the eggs. No need to waste another bag."
Ashley hesitated. "Ma'am, it's Magemart policy to bag fragile items separately and"
"It's fine, it's fine," the woman interrupted. "There's only two items, and I don't need all this extra plastic.
"Of course, Ma'am," Ashley agreed, monotone. They opened the top of the bag of eggs, which had folded itself shut.
As Ashley tucked the bottles into the bag with the eggs, I thought I heard a sharp clink, like glass on glass. Odd, but whatever. maybe one of the bottles is loose in the package. and ran into another.
"This is your total," Ashley said, straightening up and indicating the display. Either the lack of reading the final price was another breach of policy or there was a clause in the policy about not reading numbers with more than four digits aloud. I don't remember exactly, my own job at the Magemart closest to my apartment lasted barely three days, the shortest of any of my retail jobs.
The woman swiped her credit card, and was just tucking it back away into her wallet when one of the carafes exploded with a tinkling crash that seemed to echo for ages. I flinched at the sudden noise, and Ashley jumped back with a yelp, unflappable facade forgotten.
We all looked at the fluorescent green shards for a moment. I couldn't quite believe my eyes - either I'd badly misunderstood how CI bottles were supposed to work or there was something really horrendously wrong with those eggs. Besides just being golden goose eggs I mean. All of the other bottles had dangerous green cracks spreading throughout, and another looked like it might fall apart into thousands of shards like its fellow at the slightest provocation.
Almost before I had processed what I was seeing, the woman had rallied enough to shout in Ashley's face, leaning over the counter. "What the devil did you do?"
Ashley cowered, silent tears building at the corners of her eyes. They still looked stunned, frozen in place.
"Hey!" I shouted, feigning confidence and trying to get in this woman's face to protect a fellow cashier. She ignored me. "You were the one who told them to put everything in one bag!"
That got her attention. It wasn't quite what I meant to say, but I was having trouble figuring out what I meant to say, and that slipped out in the meantime.
"And you want to defend her for what? Selling me defective goods?" the woman demanded, equally happy to yell in my face. At least I'd kind of gotten into this knowingly. "CI bottles don't work like that! Or if this is some new function, then that means these golden goose eggs are poisoned or spoilt and they shouldn't be selling them to me!" she insisted.
"What do you expect her to do?" I asked, meeting her continued shouting with a tone that I would call 'panicked' but that Sierra once called 'dangerously quiet'. "How should she have known? Is she supposed to spend her shift finding any magical item that might interact with other things, and taking it around to set it on every other item it might possibly be bagged with, to make sure there's no unexpected interaction? Should they be doing that instead of checking people out, while they're on the clock?" I tried to make the scenario obviously illogical but I think I rambled too much to get the point across.
The woman only squinted at me for a long moment before putting her nose half an inch from mine and shouting even louder than before, "I! Want! A! Manager!"
I wiped spittle off my face, and she stamped her foot, which seemed to be the impulse needed for the second and third bottles to shatter, with another echoing crash.
Someone in line behind me muttered about a manager, before rushing off. ...Probably. I didn't exactly turn to look, with the woman still glowering in my face. Hopefully they ran off to get a manager who would take this belligerent lady out of my and Ashley's faces.
Fortunately, that's exactly what happened. A manager showed up to talk to the woman right around the time she started making threats, and Ashley and the line of people waiting to check out shuffled over to a new register without glass shards everywhere.
We all kept our positions in line, so it was finally my turn to check out. My heart was still pounding from the confrontation as I handed Ashley the bag of moonstone chips to scan.
They offered me a weak smile. "Illusion magic? Isn't that really hard to learn?" Ashley asked, with a tiny but genuine spark of interest in her eyes.
I nodded before I fully processed the second question, already fumbling for my company credit card. "I work hard at it," I said, stretching the truth a little. I certainly didn't have the usual trouble developing the basics, but I push my limits near-daily at the theater and stumbling out of my comfort zone proves to me that I can do more.
"Will that be all," Ashley asked, but tapped the appropriate button on the register before I could reply, my card already poised over the place to swipe it being answer enough. "Your total is 10.53," she said, the next line in the cashiers' script that I still unfortunately have memorized.
They skipped the part of the script asking me if I wanted a receipt, just grabbed it when it printed and scribbled a quick message on the back of it, before finally presenting it to me, holding it out with the handle of the plastic bag with my moonstone inside. "Here is your receipt Ma'am."
I grabbed both, gently, and before I could pull my hand back to look at the message, she flipped her hand over to grab mine.
"Hey.... Thanks," they murmured, then let go.
I flashed her what was either a reassuring to smile or a pained grimace. Hard to tell from inside my own face. "Cashiers ought to be allowed to yell back at people like that," I said. "I'm glad I could get her attention off you."
Ashley opened their mouth to respond but the person behind me in line cleared his throat, and she turned to him, professionally flat expression back in place.
I flipped the receipt over to read what Ashley had written. It was her phone number and the message
I get off at 5. May I treat you to coffee?
I pulled out my phone to text her a yes, and fumbled putting the basket back into the stack for future customers twice before I paused typing long enough to focus on putting the basket away.
I wasn't really bothered by my klutziness. For once my hot head earned me a hot date instead of a hot mess.
#stretch thursday#well i started this on thursday after work#feedback tentatively accepted#muggle writes#muggle originals#writing from prompts#long post#i've tried to add a readmore but they don't seem to work on mobile#i'm not so certain about the ending but i needed to be done#listen it's 3am and I need to be done proofreading and I'm 95% certain there were more things I wanted to fix and I can't find them#if you think I didn't fullfil the prompt please read the prompt again i made sure to quote it directly#hmm what's the tumblr magic key to skip a post?#press j to skip#?#k and j are up and down in vi but there's no guarantee it's the same here#also that still only helps for people on desktop who presumably have xkit anyway
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I love seeing all the thought and planning you put into Paper Skin! If you don’t mind my asking, what was it that initially gave you the idea for the fic?
As always, I don’t mind at all! (Y'all know I love questions like these right? I am all about reflection and introspection!)
The short answer is:
A daydream
The Freemasons
The book “Feeding Hannibal” by Janice Poon
The initial premise was came when I was just sitting around my house daydreaming and it spilled out. It was originally supposed to be evil vampires take back a vampire that defected or whatever, kidnap who they assume is their human lover, and surprise! They’re a werewolf. They fight back, ride off into the sunset, fade to black, one and done. Just a Halloween-themed little idea I had in my head.
I started poking at it, coming up with some basic rules for the universe (I definitely was inspired by True Blood, but in reverse. Werewolf blood was going to be the delicacy to vampires instead). I didn’t have any other big overarching mythologies. I thought it would be fun to write it as Klance, with Keith as the vampire and Lance as the werewolf but that’s it.
In the same time as this was in the back of my mind, I had also just started to regain my confidence in writing after a 10+ year hiatus/block. VLD/Klance had me feeling energized and really happy about what I was doing! I was surfing around writing blogs for inspiration, and there was a suggestion about writing your characters into your work life, and though I immediately dismissed that, but thought maybe it’d be fun to “sort” the VLD characters into the different neighborhoods in New York City.
New York City really is the background character of Paper Skin for this reason. I have lived in this city my whole life, and I used to do this with my friends in high school, sort fictional characters into neighborhoods and boroughs based on their personalities (ex: Character A would be a Brooklyn hipster selling crafts, Character B would be old money from the Upper East Side, Character C would live in Spanish Harlem and host block parties during a blackout, etc.)
One fine day, I was off and I had one single errand to run, go to my post office and pick up a package. I had a lot of time to waste, and honestly I wanted to up my step count because I had started a new phase of my job that had me at a desk more than usual, so I felt restless. I took a very twisty-meandering path to the post office, and an equally random walk back to my apartment so I could explore my neighborhood while the weather was nice and I had no responsibilities other than my one task.
That’s when I walked past a building, and did a double take. It was a beautiful building with lovely doors and white marble columns… and it was a Freemason building. I laughed because, well it tickled me. I grew up on The Simpsons, so I always think of the Stonecutters when I see Masonic imagery and the idea of a crazy secret underground society pulling strings behind closed doors, in the middle of my neighborhood? I don’t know why but I just couldn’t stop laughing and I walked along my way.
But that’s what took my little tiny seed of an idea, a vampire tormented and starved into biting their lover—all the while a shadowy force is pulling the strings from behind the scenes to manipulate things. Some evil society thinking that they have control, but surprise! The lover is a werewolf who gives the vampire strength to fight back! How would the society react? Who would they be? Could someone kill a moose at some point?
Something just clicked.
The piece of the puzzles started falling and I started seeing scenes play out. I’d already settled on making it a quick klance one-shot if it was sticking to the original plan, so Keith was the vampire and Lance was the werewolf, but now I had the idea that Hunk was also a werewolf, and his gf Shay was a human vet, and maybe Pidge was a helpful shapeshifter that had to convince Keith and Lance’s neighbors that he just had a large wolf-like dog sometimes. But now I started thinking about what happened after the two escaped, getting picked up by Dad!Vampire Shiro on the Jersey turnpike, the werewolves using an abandoned sleepaway camp for hunting grounds and the moose thing, and more! I started “sorting” the characters back into neighborhoods as well as into supernatural species, and it just kept growing from there.
The last piece of the puzzle was already there, curtesy of a longtime fandom and IRL friend who is a fan of the NBC series Hannibal. She was very active on Twitter and would sometimes interact with a lovely member of the Hannibal crew, the food stylist Janice Poon. Janice was responsible for making all the food look like it was food made of people that wasn’t supposed to look like people but actually did look like people–and also was in charge of researching how Hannibal’s chosen ingredients would ‘behave’ when cooked. She compiled all of her recipes and more into a book that also spoke about how she would have to search for speciality meats, and also that she would incorporate blood into her recipes.
In short, Janice Poon wrote the book on creating meals fit for a cannibal, or for my purposes, a monster. My friend found out that Janice was holding a dinner party to celebrate the release of her book in Toronto, and we both decided on a whim to fly for a 3-day jaunt to Canada. (My proudest moment was non-stop joking about going to the Mall as a reference to Robin Sparkles, and then WE ENDED UP SPENDING A DAY AT THE MALL). At the release party, Janice and my friend had a wonderful time, and there was a private dinner where we got fed a meal “fit for a cannibal”, mostly delicious things like Lotus root with black rice, my first taste of bone marrow, other goodies and lots of wine and cocktails but the best part? The Sanguinaccio dolce she served for dessert.
I loved that pudding so much, it was sticking out of my mind when I started plotting out Paper Skin, I could remember the chocolate and the richness and that tiny little metallic taste that lingered, reminding me I was eating slowly simmered, thickened blood.
I start typing up the prologue and intro to Paper Skin, and I stop in the middle of the scene where Lance meets Shiro and Keith outside of the bar. I remember I stood to take the book off my shelf, and then I was struck with an idea for more of their backstory and what they DO. So I grab a bunch of those little post-it note flags that I haven’t used since college, and start bookmarking all the recipes that I think could be werewolf or vampire-friendly. I start reading Janice’s stories, how she learned to cook blood and to always get it frozen. What it was like to break down and stuff a heart (which she wraps in twine, I came up with bacon from my mom’s tendency to do that to our Thanksgiving turkey). I start researching blood sausage and Cuban cuisine, and the ball is already rolling. This isn’t just an urban fantasy romance with a mystery lurking beneath, it’s also a story about food and erasing the idea that an obligate carnivore or blood-drinker should be ashamed of what they eat to survive.
It’s about love, and loving who you are, fiercely.
#em answers#diebazal#paper skin meta#paper skin lore#paper skin#wrtiting meta#long post#writing blah blah#tw: blood
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we were staying in paris to get away from our parents
Lyric from “Paris” by the Chainsmokers. We (Rach and I) used to love the Chainsmokers until we found out they were trash humans who cheated on their girlfriends with no remorse, and instead we’ve followed the ex-girlfriends loyally since the breakups. Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CARY!! It’s 11:23 am here in Paris on Cinco de Mayberger and I wish I was in Philly holding that muffin and celebrating our girl, but hopefully I can be soon.
I really shouldn’t be blogging right now because I’m sitting in a super cool cafe that is meant for working and co-working and I’m paying to be here, so I shouldn’t waste my paid time on blogging... but hey, I’m waiting for my Adderall to kick in and also I think this is the coolest concept ever. It’s a super cozy space and you pay for the length of time you’re here. It’s a little expensive but I have no sense of responsibility anymore. It’s 5 euro an hour and that gets you access to the wifi, convenient plugs everywhere, and an all-inclusive self-serve tea and coffee bar. I think it’s kind of genius!! There’s snacks, bread, nutella, all kinds of tea, coffee, etc. Takes away all the stress of posting up at a coffee shop for hours and wondering how much you need to buy to make yourself feel okay about using their space all day. Kitty and I are personally very passionate about rental businesses/unlimited concepts like this, and I’m making a mental note to tell her about this so we can open one at home. There’s a chance Americans wouldn’t go for it, but I think at the right price it’d be dope. Of course, it basically reminds me of a bottomless brunch, and I’m pre-panicked I won’t get my money’s worth. What if we served mimosas at our place, Kitty?! Interesting. I wish it wasn’t 3:30 am in Breck right now so we could discuss this.
Last I left off I was on the train to Paris. Vienna and Prague genuinely feel like years ago. Such a weird trip, start to finish. Not the kind I’d design on my own, but not NOT... just odd to be here mostly alone without a plan and kind of figuring it out as I go. Not my style. I got into Gare de L’est in Paris and figured out the Metro to Angie and Adam’s place around 7 pm. Their 7-month-old is very French and goes to bed around 9:30 pm, so we bonded right away and she instantly took to me. They tell me she’s mostly like that with all strangers, but I feel I’m special to her. She cries when I leave the room!! I had to sneak out to the cafe this morning because she was bawling when I went to my room after saying good morning to her. Sweet angel. Her name is “Thea” but they exclusively call her “Doodle” and it reminds me of our muff. We ended up just hanging out all night on their couch and catching up, and then they got some pizzas and pasta from the place across the street for dinner and I ate All Of It. The French don’t fuck around with their food (she says, shoving a shortbread cake coated in Nutella in her mouth between keystrokes.) Had a bottle of wine and we stayed up until 1 am or so, just so lovely.
I woke up Saturday morning and braved what was admittedly freezing rain to walk to the local bakery Angie suggested. Since they live right next to the Luxembourg Gardens I also popped in there, as it reminds me of the photo Amy and I took sitting on the fountain mirroring each other, back in January 2011. I captioned it “The City of Love and Weight Gain” and steel trap Amanda remembered that ever since and recently posted a pic with the same caption, smh, she’s incredible. Learned on this morning walk that my right black boot had worn through the sole, so my foot got soaked and I felt that “squidge squidge” with each step... so fun. Went to the bakery and had a panic attack leading up to the order as I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head a million times over. Eventually spit out “Je voudrais... trois croissants....deux pain au chocolat... et un baguette....s’il vois plait....” and to the girl’s credit, she didn’t immediately transfer to English upon hearing how painfully transparently American I sounded, and gave me the total in French! I obviously had blacked out and couldn’t hear her, but the total was displayed on the cash register, so I paid and survived.
After lazing around a bit the rest of the morning, we all packed up and went across town to a Scottish bar that was playing the Tottenham game that Adam was interested in. I love sports so I was happy to go, but man, soccer is dumb. At one point one guy got a red card for lightly shoving a player after the play, and I almost burst out laughing at how that move disqualified him from that game and the next game, whereas in hockey that’s literally encouraged and we tally how many hits per game a player has. Our friend Aaron came to join us!! So good to see him, I think the last time I saw him was December 2016 right after I had moved to Denver and he was passing through town. I remember specifically because I showed him my apartment, that first one in Uptown next to Kitty, and it was completely empty. Back when I glamped all day. He’s near fluent in French now and I find it attractive.
We all went to an ex-pat bar after that and met up with Adam’s English co-worker and her friend who I found enchanting. They’re both from Brighton and were just lovely, interesting, funny women. We talked a little bit about the differences between England vs. the States and they said, “one thing we’ve always wanted to know - why do you have those huge gaps in the doors between your public bathrooms? You can practically see inside!” I said “I honestly have no idea and we all hate it too. Ask me something else I can answer!!!” We drank there for a while until Angie took Thea home because she was starting to get a little under the weather and fussy, and Aaron had a weird reaction to his IPA and immediately lost his voice. Adam went home to Angie, and Angie’s niece who had just come in asked if I wanted to get dinner. To be honest, I did not want to get dinner. She is a little odd for a 30-year-old female and I didn’t have any idea what we were going to talk about. Spoiler: I was correct. She’s the kind of person who just won’t respond if she isn’t interested in what you have to say. So we’d be walking along chatting, and I’d say something, and she’d just be silent. Laaa dee daaa... she also lived in Versailles in college and is also fluent in French, and knew her way around very well, so I unintentionally just felt dumb and patronized. We stopped at a place she wanted to go to for “authentic French cuisine”, blech, and I just got an omelette. The menu was all in French and luckily I mostly knew what I was reading, but she didn’t even lightly offer to translate. Ha. She eventually got more approachable and bubbly when we started talking about dating and her boyfriend and the online dating scene. After dinner, to her credit, she thanked me for agreeing to dinner with her and humoring me on the choice of restaurant and walking together. So maybe she’s just one of those people who doesn’t emote well but is kind and appreciative on the inside. Walked home and went to sleep, again in silence.
Woke up intermittently and kept checking the Phillies’ score in the middle of the night, only to see a very sad ending... sigh. At least Rhys and Bryce looked hot AF. Angie and Adam are Nats fans but admittedly love both Rhys and Bryce. I showed Adam the press conference of Bryce thanking Ned as a part of his signing, and Adam was THOROUGHLY impressed, so that made it all worth it.
Going to stay at this cafe for several hours and try to give Angie and Adam some space, as Angie thinks she and Thea are getting sick and I don’t want to impose more than I already have. I may walk to the 6th later to visit the Hotel Raphael, Hotel Majestic, and the Peninsula; as ER has places in each of them and it would be amazing to see them firsthand. Usually people on-site are very kind to me when I just pop in and say I work for ER, because it’s in their best interest to show me good service so I highly recommend them to my members. Maybe I’ll splurge and have a cocktail or a short massage at the world-famous Peninsula hotel!! TBD, the day is young. For now, hopefully I accomplish my freelance work so I’m not a miserable jet-lagged shrew next week. Wish me luck!!
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Moonlight Sonata Chapter 1
Summary: Patton might be a prince of the Atlantic, but he's not like his older brother, Roman. He's not the heir to the throne or a great leader or talented. Then Patton meets Virgil, a human who makes him feel like he's something more than just a prince, than just a tool for his abilities. It's not long after that Patton starts to notice some changes, both in his feelings, his abilities, and Virgil himself. But something's happening in the seven kingdoms, something big. Mermaids are going missing, and the most powerful kingdom has gone silent. Rulers start blaming each other, the threat of war becoming more real by the passing day. When things start to spread into the human world, Patton and Virgil are left with a choice, one that could aid the Atlantic or make the tensions even worse, tearing them apart in the process.
A/N: I’m finally posting this! I’ve been working on this for a while now, and I can’t wait for you guys to read it! I love it a lot, so I hope you do too
Pairing: Moxiety
Warnings: cursing, blood mention, injury, anxiety
Also, slight disclaimer, Deceit will be featured in this fic as an antagonist.
Red on Ao3
Tag list: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @dan-yuna @tripleaaaqueer @lilbeanblr @helloisthisusernametaken @justanotherpurplebutterfly @alwaysmy-lilith @ilylogan @logically-trans @seas-space-and-stardust @generalfandomfabulousness @arentordinaryvillainsadorable
The last thing that Virgil wanted to do with his summer was pack. He’d had all of these plans with his friends that would get them through the entire summer, but then his parents had to go and ruin it all with the announcement that they were moving. To a place that was very much not where Virgil grew up and very much not where he preferred to be. It seemed that he didn’t get much of a say in the matter, though. By the time they told him and his little sister Abby, they’d already sold the house.
Granted, Virgil probably should’ve seen it coming. All the extra stress his parents seemed to have been under should’ve been a sign, but he figured that was just their jobs. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
Then there was the cleaning. His parents had made them spend an entire week cleaning the house from top to bottom. At the time, he thought they’d just finally decided that their house needed a good cleaning. Again, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
Abby had been ecstatic about the news. She was excited to go to a new place, and she didn’t seem to mind the fact that she was leaving all of her friends.
“They’re boring sometimes,” she told Virgil when he asked her about it. “Besides, Jessica always tries to steal my Friday brownies so now I won’t have to worry about it anymore!” She’d then gone back to humming to herself as she packed up her coloring books.
Oh, to be six again. When your biggest worries are whether or not you get your Friday brownie.
Meanwhile Virgil tried everything he could to convince his parents that this was a bad idea, but to no avail. They’d already sold the house. They’d even already gotten jobs in their new town. Clearly, they’d waited until the last possible second to tell Virgil and Abby. They probably knew that Virgil was going to react this way and they didn’t want to give him a chance to change their minds.
Despite his efforts, the day of the move came. A truck had already left the day before to take most of their things, so the family had slept in the empty house in sleeping bags, having eaten take out Chinese for dinner. Abby went on and on about how she couldn’t wait for all of the adventures she was going to have at the new house and all the new friends she was going to make at her new school. His father talked about all the new cuisine he was going to master. Virgil just rolled over and ignored them, not wanting to even think about living anywhere but his home.
He’d felt a touch on his arm. “I know this isn’t ideal for you sweetheart,” his mother had whispered to him, his sister and father still talking on the other side of the room. “I know this change is big for you, but it’s what we all need right now. A fresh start.”
“I’m happy with where we are,” Virgil mumbled.
His mother had sighed and kissed his cheek. “No, you’re not,” she said. “None of us are.”
He hated when she was right, but that didn’t mean he was going to acknowledge it. He just buried his head in his pillow. She squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll see,” she said. “This new place is going to be good for us.”
Virgil didn’t respond, and she left him alone after that. He doubted that this move was going to be “good” but there was nothing he could do about it at this point. So he just closed his eyes and hoped that tomorrow would never come.
“Wow!” Abby exclaimed, straining against her seatbelt to get a look at the houses around them. They were in a neighborhood that was, literally, right by the beach. Virgil could see snippets of the ocean as they passed by the houses. Many of them had stone walls between them, but the distant sparkle of the ocean peaked out over them. “Look at all the houses! And palm trees! We never had palm trees at our old house, Virgil.”
Virgil didn’t say anything, but that didn’t keep Abby from continuing to gawk at the houses.
It had been a rather long car ride. Most of the time Virgil spent with his headphones on and listening to music to distract him. Or at least, he’d tried to. Abby seemed to make it her mission to annoy him as much as possible and try to see how many times she could get him to take his headphones off. Eventually he’d just ignored her, which had resulted in her huffing and refusing to acknowledge him for a good two hours. This, of course, meant that it was Virgil’s turn to annoy her.
Now, though, they were both silent as their father pulled into the driveway of a rectangular white house. Virgil slowly got out of the car as Abby started running around, giggling, and his parents walked to the back of the car to get their bags. The house was a two-story, with a front porch and a set of stairs the led up to the door, and a concrete wall between the house and the two houses on either side of it.
“Virgil, honey, will you come help with the bags?”
Turning away from the house, Virgil went to help his parents.
Patton giggled as he chased the pod of dolphins, doing loops and really letting his tail stretch. He watched from below as the dolphins surfaced slightly for air and sometimes even jumped out of the water. Amazing creatures, dolphins. They were smarter than any mermaid Patton new, yet just as playful. This pod in particular always liked to play games with him.
One of the babies swam towards him, circled around him once, then took off towards the adult dolphins which made Patton smile. He’d been hanging around this pod for a while now, and he loved the fact that they trusted him enough at this point to be around their babies. It had nothing to do with him being a Prince of the Atlantic either. Really, he felt that their mothers were just relieved that all Patton ever wanted to do was play.
Suddenly, all of the dolphins parted and swam in different directions. Patton frowned and slowed, turning back around to look for what had caused the disturbance. A human boat, maybe, or a shark or…
“Patton! There you are!”
Patton’s brother.
Sighing, Patton stopped swimming all together and straightened as he watched with longing as the dolphins swam away. He spotted Roman immediately, his brother coming towards him at top speed. He slowed once he neared Patton, a frown on his face.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Well, you found me,” Patton said, opening his arms and giving Roman a smile.
Roman rolled his eyes. “Yes, and much too far away from the palace. You know how Father is.”
“I know, I know, and I didn’t mean to come out this far!” Patton promised. “Swimming with the dolphins is just so much fun! No wonder the humans like to do it so often.”
Roman got the same look on his face every time Patton started talking about humans. His mouth got tight and his eyes narrowed, like just by saying the word it was going to summon one of them. “Pat, you know that we can’t—”
“Yes, Roman I know,” Patton said, shaking his head.
Roman crossed his arms at Patton’s dismissive tone. “Then why are you so close to the shore?”
Blinking, Patton looked around. Sure enough, there was a slope nearby and waves crashing onto the shore. It was far enough that no human would see them, but the fact that the shore was in sight at all was enough to make Roman worried, Patton knew.
“Huh,” Patton said. “I didn’t realize how close we were.”
Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do pay closer attention to your surroundings. You’re a prince, Pat, you know that we can’t have you in danger.”
“Ah, but I’m not the heir,” Patton said, swimming around his brother and tapping his nose, which only made him scowl more. “So technically, I’m not as much of a liability.”
Roman’s shoulders slumped, and he got a sad look. “Don’t say that. You know How crushed Mother and Father would be if anything happened to you.”
Patton stopped swimming and let his own face soften. “I know,” he said, taking Roman’s hand. “I was just joking. I really didn’t notice how close I was to the shore. The pod just had their babies, so I was distracted.”
A small smile appeared on Roman’s lips and his shook his head. “You and the little ones, I swear.”
Patton grinned and poked Roman’s chest. “And you would’ve gotten to see them too if you hadn’t scared them off.”
“I like to think that they parted to let me through. I am their prince after all,” Roman said, straightening his shell necklace that marked him as such.
“Yeah,” Patton laughed, “as if the dolphins have ever cared.”
Roman glared at him for that and pushed him away. “Come on, we should go.”
“Wait!” Patton said. He gave his brother a sweet smile and bashes his eye lashes. “While we’re here…”
“You know we already have people who come to check on the humans,” Roman said.
“Yeah but we’re here anyway,” Patton said. “Might as well, right?”
Roman grumbled, which Patton took as a yes. “Let’s go!” He started off towards the cluster of rocks that offered a good cover from the human houses. From there, they could see a good portion of the land. This was the sector that Patton was actually assigned to (or rather, the sector that Patton was in charge of making someone else in charge of, but Patton liked to think that he had the ability to come here whenever he pleased because of it), so he knew exactly where to go.
The beach seemed rather empty when they surfaced. Patton supposed that this being a mostly…what was the word? Privet? Something like that. It was an area where humans lived permanently instead of just visiting. The beach was never as crowded as it was in Roman’s sector, which had huge looming buildings in the distance. Patton liked these smaller, more comfy looking buildings a lot better.
“Okay, it looks fine, let’s—” Roman started, but stopped, his eyes locking onto something. Patton followed his gaze and lifted himself up a little bit more. There was a boy coming out of one of the houses, a house that Patton knew had been empty for quite some time now and sat just diagonal from the rocks Patton and Roman were hiding behind. Patton inches closer to get a better look at the boy, but Roman held him back. “Careful,” Roman whispered.
For a moment, the boy just stood behind his house, staring at the ocean. Patton couldn’t quite see what his face looked like, but his shoulders seemed tense and Patton got a sense that he was not happy at all.
The door to the house opened behind him and Roman pulled Patton even further behind the rock.
A smaller human came running out, and she stopped just on the edge of the beach.
“Look Virgil!” She exclaimed with utter delight in her voice. “The ocean! We can go to the beach whenever we want now!”
The boy didn’t respond at first. He just walked down to join the little girl and ruffles her hair. She giggled and shoved him, which didn’t look like it did much.
“Virgil! Abby! Oh, there you are,” a woman said, poking her head out of the door. “The movers, your dad, and I are going to get all the big stuff settled in. Virgil can you watch Abby until we’re done?”
“Yeah, sure,” Virgil called back. “How long is this going to take?”
“An hour, maybe two,” the woman said. “Take a walk, go for a swim, explore around! It’s a new place, get to know it. Go on an adventure.”
The little girl—Abby—gasped. “Adventure! Adventure adventure adventure adventure!” she ran around Virgil, who looked back at his mother with what Patton could only assume was a glare. She smiled and waved before shutting the door.
“Come on Virgil, let’s go!” Abby said, tugging on Virgil’s hand.
“Nope,” Virgil said, pulling Abby back. “Not before we get shoes.”
Abby groaned. “But it’s the beach. You’re not supposed to wear shoes.”
“Maybe if you want to burn your feet off,” Virgil said. “Or get pinched by a hermit crab or bit by a snake—”
“Snakes don’t live on the beach silly!” Abby said, though there was small uncertainty in her voice.
“How do you know that?” Virgil asked. Then he lowered his voice slightly and started lowering himself. “Maybe there are snakes that live deep in the sand and only emerge to take a bite out of little girl’s bare feet because she refused to put shoes on.” His voice grew louder and louder and on the last word he scooped up Abby, who let out a delighted yet slightly fearful screech.
With that, Virgil walked back inside, Abby squirming over his shoulder.
Once the two humans were inside, Roman pulled Patton fully behind the rock. “Come on, we should go.”
Patton shook his head. He had yet learned how to talk above the surface. That was something that his tutor was putting off showing him, likely at his father’s request. Apparently, it took a while to master anyway.
Both of them ducked under water. “We should stay and watch them,” Patton said. “Like Father always says, we have to know how the humans work so we know if they’re a threat. We should stay.”
“Patton, there are mermaids who are specifically for that job. Mermaids who can disguise themselves. We,” Roman motioned frantically between them, “are neither one of those mermaids.”
For a moment, Patton considered his light blue tale and Roman’s red one. Sure, Patton would blend in a little easier and Roman would stick out but… “We don’t know when or if they’re going to be out again,” Patton said, determined not to let this go. “Going all the way back home and summoning one of them would just be a waste of time.” Patton nudged him. “It’ll be like when we were kids…”
His brother hesitated a moment. When they were little, Patton and Roman would make secret visits to this very spot to play and spy on humans. That was, until they were caught and given a stern lecture from their father. It had successfully frightened Roman enough to refuse to return unless he had to, but it had only gotten Patton more curious to their land counterparts.
Roman rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he muttered, “it’s only two humans, anyway.”
Patton grinned and peaked above the water. “Come here, I think they’re coming back.”
Virgil sighed as he followed Abby down the sand dunes to the beach. Their back yard was literally a beach. It was almost too surreal.
“Do you think there are any monsters nearby?” Abby asked, her voice lowering.
Virgil looked around. There weren’t many people out today, maybe a few people here and there sunbathing, but for the most part, there wasn’t anyone around.
“Nah,” Virgil said, catching up to her. “Monsters like to wait until night time to come out, so it’s harder to see them.”
“Hmmm but this is a new place,” Abby said. “Which means there’s a whole new breed of monsters around. We have to scope out the area.”
Virgil bit back a smile. Their parents were letting Abby watch way too many spy movies. “Lead the way Detective Abs.”
Abby giggled for a moment, then straightened and looked around. “There!” she pointed to a nearby set of rocks. “We’ll be able to see the whole beach from there!”
Virgil looked at the rocks and frowned. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea…”
“Come on Virgil, where’s your sense of adventure?” Abby asked before taking off towards the water. Virgil ran after her.
“Abby, that’s not safe!” Virgil called. Shit shit shit, if Abby got hurt his parents were going to kill him. Not to mention he’d never forgive himself.
“You’re such a worry wart!” Abby yelled back. She kicked off her sandals and started hoping on the rocks, Virgil not far behind her.
“Mom and Dad will not be happy if they see you out here, Abs,” Virgil said, hoping that maybe that would get her attention.
“They can join us then,” Abby said.
Sighing, Virgil did his best to follow Abby, but as the rocks started to get higher, it became harder. Abby was much smaller than Virgil was, so she was able to find more hand and footholds. Why were little girls so fast?
“Abby, get over here,” Virgil snapped, his anxiety starting to get high. He tried to push it down, at least until he had his little sister on the ground again. “Now.”
Maybe hearing the panic in his voice, maybe turning so she could look at the beach, Abby faced him. At that moment, though, her foot caught on a hole in the rock and she lost her balance. To his horror, she fell back and right off of the rock.
“Abby!” Virgil screamed, jumping off the rocks, cursing as his ankle gave out under him. Ignoring the pain in his foot, he rushes around the rocks and into the water. He hadn’t realized how deep the water was right in front of the rocks.
No. No no no no. His little sister…she couldn’t even swim yet. He swam around, diving under water and looking around, but it was getting harder for him to breathe and focus. Every time he was above water, he screamed Abby’s name, as if that would help anything.
Then suddenly, someone grabbed onto his foot. Desperate, Virgil ducked under water and he saw Abby looking up at him with her big brown eyes. Virgil grabbed her wrist and yanked her up to the surface. She immediately started coughing, and Virgil pulled her into a tight hug. He felt something else brush his ankle, which he instinctively kicked at. His foot collided with something, but when he peered into the water, there was nothing there. Not wanting to find out what that had been, he paddled over to a rock and pulled them onto it. “Abby, are you okay? Come on Abigale, talk to me.”
Abby nodded and clutched onto Virgil, shaking. He held her tightly, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself down. For a while they just sat there, clutching onto each other. When they were both able to breathe a bit better, Virgil pulled away slightly to scan Abby for any injuries. “Are you alright? Really?” he asked.
“Y-Yes,” she said, her voice trembling. “I…Virgil, I hit my head,” her hand went to her temple, which was as clear as it had been earlier.
Still, though, Virgil examined it, running his thumb over it, but it was fine. “You’re not hurt,” he said, feeling relief flow through him. “You’re okay.”
Abby shook her head. “No, I hit my head, I know…I felt the pain.” She frowned, as if trying to remember. “There was a really sharp rock right under the ocean and my head hit it. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I woke up under water right by you.”
Virgil frowned. “Abby, I looked everywhere, I didn’t see you.”
Abby looked down at the ocean but, Virgil noticed, she kept a tight hold on Virgil.
Holding her close, Virgil stood. “Hey, that was pretty scary for both of us,” Virgil said gently, propping Abby on his hip. She wrapped her legs around him, clinging to him. “Let’s just go hang out on the beach until Mom and Dad are finished unloading the truck okay?”
Abby nodded, but she was still frowning. Virgil didn’t quite understand either, but then, she’d probably been scared and panicked. She’d probably had no idea what was going on. Still, though, Virgil got them out of there as fast as he could. He noticed, though, that his ankle didn’t hurt as much as it did before. He must have just imagined the pain in all of his panic.
“What were you thinking?” Roman asked as he and Patton swim far, far away from those rocks.
“What was I supposed to do, Roman, let her drown?” Patton asked.
Roman didn’t answer that, and Patton focused on what was ahead of them, going through everything that had just happened in his head.
He and Roman had been watching the humans, keeping out of the way especially when the little girl had run towards the very rock they were hiding behind. Both of them watched a bit nervously as she had climbed, wondering just why in the world her brother was letting her do this.
Then Abby had fallen, hitting her head as she went under.
Patton had acted immediately, rushing over to her and examining her wounds. There was a deep cut on her temple, blood floating around it, though it nearly blended in with her dark hair. The hit had knocked her out, and it was only a matter of time before she’d drown. Patton, pulling her away from the rocks for a moment as Virgil dove in, frantically shouting her name. He’d healed her and expelled all of the water out of her lungs, ensuring that she would wake up any moment. He then pushed her towards Virgil and then ducked away before he could be seen.
Roman had tried to pull him away then, panic written all over his face, but Patton hesitated. He looked back at the brother and sister. Virgil had pulled Abby up, and he could see Abby’s feet moving a little. He relaxed, glad to know that she was awake and breathing. Then his eyes had landed on Virgil’s foot, which he was using to stay afloat. It was bent at an odd angle, which Patton was sure wasn’t right.
Patton’s healing abilities told him that it was, indeed, injured. Shrugging Roman off, Patton slowly swam under Virgil, keeping close to the sea floor. He reached up and brushed his hand over the place where Virgil’s foot stopped and his leg began, the skin turning a normal color and the foot looking like it had before.
He’d just barely been able to heal it all the way before Virgil had kicked him in the face.
Recoiling, Patton swam away as fast as he could, not even looking back to see if he’d been noticed. Roman had then grabbed Patton’s wrist and pulled him away as fast as possible. They were far enough away from the humans in a matter of seconds, Roman’s swimming abilities shining through and nearly taking Patton’s arm off. It was another few yards before Roman even let him go, and another few before he’d spoken.
Eventually, Patton slowed down. His heart was racing, both from what had just happened and from swimming so fast. He didn’t have nearly as much endurance as Roman did. Then again, Roman was the best swimmer Patton knew, and he could go on for hours without tiring.
“Patton, come on, we have to get back,” Roman sad, using his prince voice, as if that had ever worked on Patton.
“I need a moment,” Patton said, his voice small. He slowed to a stop, sinking down so he could rest on the floor.
Roman slowed and looked back at him. He joined Patton, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked.
Patton shook his head. Everything was catching up to him, and he all he wanted was to curl up on the seafloor and let the currents flow over him.
Roman settled down next to him, a worried look on his face. “Hey, it’s alright,” he said gently. “We weren’t spotted. It’s okay.”
“That’s…that’s not it,” Patton said, shaking his head and staring down at his hands. “Roman, I could feel her life fading away. She…” Patton buried his head in his hands.
Roman put a strong arm around him, pulling him close. He was silent, letting Patton work through his feelings. “I know it’s not easy,” he murmured after a while. “Healing…it’s such a rare gift. I wish we knew more to avoid these moments.”
Patton just nodded along. He knew. He knew that his healing powers were few and far between. He was the only one in the entire Atlantic, which made him valuable. He suspected that was the real reason his family wanted him to stay so close to home all the time., but because it was so rare, none of them knew what the extent of it was.
“Is this the first time this has happened?” Roman asked.
Patton nodded again.
“Then that’s just one more thing that we know,” Roman said, and squeezed his shoulder. “It will take some time to get used to, but at least you know now.”
Patton closed his eyes and let’s himself drift a little. He felt the gills on his abdomen open and close as the water flowed through him. His tail relaxed and moved with the currents. When he opened his eyes, Roman was staring out in the distance.
“Come on,” Patton said, getting up. “We should go tell Father what happened.”
Chapter 2
#sanders sides#moxiety#virgil sanders#patton sanders#roman sanders#my fic#fanfiction#moonlight sonata#cursing#blood#injury#anxiety
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Honestly not gonna lie
But with S7 along the way with Voltron I'm going to need some things cleared up:
First up Krolia is there a Galran courting mannerisms because girl I need to know how Texas Kogane / Keith's dad power bottomed the most powerful top in the galra empire
Second, Shiro and Keith have some... Tension they're gonna have to talk about. Did Shiro hear everything? Did he know???
"We're going home" Excuse me Keith is the shack still an option? I need to know if Shiro is getting back dad's jacket lol
PLEASE TAKE ROMELLE WITH YOU OR LET HER ESTABLISH RAPPORT WITH ALLURA AS HER SECOND IN COMMAND (Or... Girlfriends. She's not her cousin here and they have apparently no relations whatsoever? But eh, that's nothing to be major anyway, she just deserves so much!)
Where is my girl Shay where is she I know we are heading to earth but I have not seen balmera friend
Hunk finally proved his Galran philosophy, now we must have him as thE NEW TRAINER RIGHT? I need those new recruits absolutely fawning over him! At least..! C'mon he's a wonderful guy!
Please let us see Pidge's mom and see her get some closure now that the family is finally okay!
Space wolf needs a nAME
I NEED TO KNOW
How is Honerva? She seems to have blended with Haggar but is "aware" of how they are separate entities, but her maternal instincts lead me to believe she's going to reach out looking for Lotor even though she knows and respects that he doesn't really WANT her relationship with him to be anything more than... Nothing.
Okay so Shiro, Keith, again... Lots of stuff to go over here. I ship sheith and all but like... Don't forget the aftermath, Keith got a scar, Shiro lost his arm. I'm waiting for the moment when they get down time to just, let themselves get up to speed
Rest for paladins??? Beach episode??? Shiro in speedo episode???
Space DND with Lance as dungeon master
EVERYONE'S FAMILIES I WANNA SEE EM
Krolia attempting human cuisine and acting like those gagging cats?
Is Space wolf named Yorik
That's a good name
Will romelle finally be Usagi like I keep thinking she is. Will she finally get Tuxedo Lion?
This is an insignificant detail but the way Shiro said "Teludav" in that one episode they were trying to fix it was way deeper and more accented than I thought and boy oh boy I would love Shiro pretending to have an accent.
Did the Garrison have a military montage with Shiro as the perfect soldier? AKA: Were I and the rest of the fans the muses singing Shiro to Hero? Josh Keaton was Herc's singing voice so...
I keep saying this but more Keith and Shiro stuff honestly. Like... They're obviously so close to each other I kinda just want them to just, you know, open up, and then have this season let the other paladins open up which each other. I.E, no more "Hunk, Lance, Pidge you guys split up and go to the basement of Zarkon's mansion, me and Keith will go upstairs!" Like mix it up and let's see more interactions with differing characters like they did with Lance and Shiro in the other season.
Basically: More paladin bonding and more bonding with Corran pleaseeee?
Can we get Shiro an Altean arm? Can we please?
Will Krolia be afraid of human contact? Will humans attempt to call her a distrustful alien and try to harm her? Better not and I hope they won't.
Krolia having to go through many... Many human and earthly traditions and trying to wrap her head around it: But she knows it's for Keith and so she does it anyway despite how hard it is? I would like that but I mean? Keith and Krolia interacting is all I need??? Mom and son??? Son and mom???
Love Kogane and son????
Takashi Shirogane, master of dad comedy?
Alurra getting to show off her kick-ass martial arts moves because the Lotor suplex made me want more.
God if this season is about earth does that mean humans will likely be the villains here? Or will enemies attack the earth first? Excited to see!
THE SHIP, LEST WE FORGET, WOE IS UNTO ME
Corran our Man, true leader we Stan
Shiro in a paladin outfit again please I loved it in the DnD episode where he was so... Bishoujo it was AMAZING
Can Matt show up more? We barely saw him much in the season finales...
Also, how did Keith show up at the Garrison anyway? It's implied as the reason was Shiro, but, how? What happened after his dad passed away? Did he just... Stay in his shack until Shiro came along and showed him the Garrison might be a better way to spend / place his time?
Hot tutor Takashi Shirogane, licensed to stutter while he teaches you about Aerodynamics because hes so patient and focused™ (We all know everyone was fawning over him. Just please say it was so. Say he was a giant nerd and gets flustered easily before Kerberos.)
THE SOUNDS OF A LASER BEAM, DISCUSS.
Can the green lion make solar energy systems a thing? Can that even be a thing? Basically: What really are the Lions anyway? Will we question that more?
SUMMER VACATION EPISODES WE NEED EVERYONE AT THE BEACH STAT PLZ
#voltron#voltron legendary defender#takashi shirogane#Keith Kogane#Krolia#Romelle#allura#pidge gunderson#hunk garrett#lance mcclain#corran#honerva#VLD
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Thank you for the asks @insomniasqueen
What’s the story of how you two officially got together?
Well I picked her up on the little earth colony to try and get Thete to be jealous and maybe look away from his pet for ten seconds and fall back in love with me. Little did I know I’d been looking for my soulmate in the wrong place and she was by my side all along! Maxxie stop crying, you’re leaking, Stop! It makes me want to start leaking again and I made it past that point in my Good Conversion!
Well I brought her back from the dead, after realizing that without her I would be absolutely miserable, made her as close as a midgardian can to an asguardian, and eventually we sort of...well....She made the first move actually, it was quite the spectacular evening...
~H.
It was really more of a late night conversation. We’ve had our ups and downs definitely. In fact we broke it off many times in the beginning, until we found our rhythm. Though even before we officially said, “I want you to be my girlfriend,” We acted quite like a couple, or so Miss Avocet says. We just thought we were being the best of friends.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine.
Do either of you cook? If so, what is your/their favorite meal of theirs/yours?
What is cooking? Maxxie do you know? No? Do you want orange chicken and Tempura for diner from mars? Great I’ll call the normal place and get our order.
~Missy
I have servants who do this for us. THEY’RE PAID! now.
~H.
When it’s a normal day, I do most of the cooking, simply because I remember things Max made when we were in training. But even more now a days, Emma and Olive tag team our dinners with Jacob, Enoch. It gives us time to clean our room ;)
Maxiene seems to love Italian Cuisine more than most things.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine
Do you have any funny stories involving the relationship?
THE STARDUST AND ROSE PETALS INCIDENT!!!!!
~Missy
That one time she noticed I was unhappy and decided to start a food fight with the banquet table was quite amusing. She’s still beautiful with salad and cherry smash bits in her hair.
~H.
We’re a pair of shape shifting, time controlling, lesbian bird wives who raise 17+ children who all have unique and strange abilities/appearances. Our lives are one large sitcom.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine
What do you usually do when the two of you aren’t with each other?
Do my very best to not burn the universe to ash and ruins so I can watch the pretty shapes the smoke makes, and wish that she was back....wonder what she’s up too, boring human things I expect....
~Missy
We aren’t apart, I spent almost a millennia without her, and I will not have her parted from my side again. She is far too important to me.
~H.
Well one of us is always keeping an eye on the kids, but in my free time when Max is taking care of the children, I am either at a council meeting or having a fly around to make sure there are no residual Wights nearby, or just reading.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine
What do you guys do to relax together?
Relax? What does that mean? Oh? Is that the thing I never do that you told me I have to do?
~Missy
She forces me to take breaks from my throne and my responsibilities, to spend time with her, away from Asgard or just away from the palace. She’s very warm and just the right size to cuddle with. It’s quite lovely.
~H.
Strolls, flights, reading aloud to each other, just brushing each other's hair or taking a quick nap while the older children watch the little ones.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine
Have you or would you ever give them a massage?
I’ve given her a few. The most recent one was on our last little excursion, she was also about to be sacrificed to the heathen gods of Markkethen at the time (my fault sort of but she really shouldn’t be so pretty) and she hurt her back falling down a cliff (She’s ridiculously fragile as well as squishy) so I cracked all her cute little ribs back into place and rubbed the soreness away, she also likes her back being tickled or scratched. And it’s cute when she’s really very sleepy and she starts purring almost. She honestly has absolutely no right to be so adorable all the bloody time, it’s quite distracting.
~Missy
She’s wonderful with battle-sore muscles and just relaxing shoulder rubs in general, and I do my best to return the favor when she’s stressed or anxious, like she often gets.
~H.
Often! Being mothers to powered children with many different personalities that often clash and also being responsible for the lawful care of Peculiardom definitely wears on you, somedays we don’t say a word to each other or let alone see each other, that small segment right before we go to bed at night is sometimes all we get. Massages are wonderful when we’re too tired for other Stress Relief.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine
Have you met each other’s families?
All my people are dead, my ex boyfriend blew them up, and then they came back and banished me. My Ex Boyfriend seems to like her!
~Missy
Yes.
~H.
She has, yes. Or what was left of them. Before they were....taken care of. My brother’s got the Protective Girlfriend Treatment. It was quite the spectacle.
~Alma LeFay Peregrine
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I Hate The Phrase "Fiction Can Be Better"
One of the biggest challenges in writing is the concept of fan entitlement. A writer may want to tell a story a certain way, present social commentary, themes, and challenge contemporary thinking.
But there will be those who find such topics as problematic, or demand the story to go a certain way.
If a character betrays the protagonist in the name of social change, it may be taken as "out of character", or a problematic, short-term, or a short-sighted solution to a perceived or very real social issue.
A rigid caste system within a fantasy setting would be viewed as archaic, unnecessary, and possibly traumatic to certain viewers.
As a society, we have empowered others to choose to avoid certain things. It can be a good thing, curating your experience in the world. But to ignore these stories, these commentaries in their entirety, and to suggest that such depictions of horrid histories, philosophies, and realities should be censored, is paramount to denying such things exist. We may try to argue that certain atrocities are relegated to history, but one must realize that they, or their echoes, persist in the modern day.
One person's traumatic experience that is best left forgotten is undoubtedly someone else's story. You can choose to avoid it, if it makes you feel better, but you must not silence others because you prefer it.
Of course, we cannot talk about the challenges of writing without bringing into question that concept of cultural appropriation.
In contemporary thinking, the idea of taking something of another culture and utilizing it in a creation, from fiction to art, is similar to perverting and corrupting it. However, this is not the case. The difference between insensitive use of a culture and being inspired or fascinated by it is in your intent.
Take for example the Japanese geisha, refined performers of equally refined pastimes. If someone took a kimono, portrayed themselves as a courtesan, and used an offensive stereotypical accent, claiming geisha are courtesans, that would be insensitive, offensive, and a perversion of culture. If someone simply wore a kimono and displayed a keen interest in the culture, maybe even attempt to bring some aspect of it to the West, that's just enjoying a culture, respecting it, and teaching others of it.
What's interesting to me is that one may wear a tartan, but no one will call them out on wearing the wrong pattern, or claim they're stealing from the Scottish culture.
Yet the concept of being offended in the stead of others remains a pervasive problem, as is the idea that stories must follow a certain path to please everyone. One setting I continue to look at as an example of this is Wizard of the Coast's Magic: The Gathering. One set in the game, Kamigawa, was heavily inspired by Japanese folk belief and mythology, but it fell short in marketing performance. It is believed this was due to both the lower power level in gameplay than in previous sets as well as a setting that most really felt lost in.
Since then, settings tended to be in familiar territory, or at least by Western tastes. We'd see them experiment in settings based on other Asian cultures, from Kaladesh to Tarkir, but they'd always try to keep things from getting too "foreign". One of my favorite complaints I heard about Kaladesh, which was wildly successful, was from those of Indian descent, claiming that other than the naming conventions and a few hints of culture in the written stories, it didn't really feel "Indian".
Fast-forward to Strixhaven. There were those that felt the backstory of one character was a "Panda Expressification" of Asian childhood trauma. A ridiculous statement.
It is a real experience, the often told story of a young man or woman, the child of a prominent official, who must maintain the family legacy and reputation, and the parents are willing to risk their child's happiness for it. The term "Expressification" is in relation to the concept of passing a supposedly bastardized version of the real thing as genuine, such as Chinese-American food. Being a food anthropologist, I find this concept ridiculous. Almost all Chinese-American food can be traced back to the Chinese immigrants who came to the United States during the California Gold Rush, using available ingredients with the techniques they knew, or the Chinese who fled to Taiwan during the revolution in the mid-20th century. No matter how you put it, the flavors and dishes of the Chinese-American cuisine most Americans grew up with are indeed genuinely Chinese. But that's enough about food.
Revisiting a difficult childhood may be problematic for some, a term I find myself despising for its overuse, but it is also a reaffirming thing for others. To know that your story, one shared by many, is being told to the masses can truly be a wonderful, reaffirming thing. But to each their own, and thus it is their responsiblity to curate their experience, but not others.
Denying and ignoring trauma and atrocity is not the solution, it will not bring social betterment. Neither will glorifying it. It must be shown for what it is, a horrid reality, this will illicit emotional response, get people talking, and bring the issues it carries to the table. Only through this communication will we make progress.
But perhaps, simply talking about what is very real may offend others who prefer to retreat into the relative safety of fantasy. As we withdraw further into denial, creating our own little utopias, what then will become of reality, now devoid of those who wish to see it saved? We speak of dystopian futures, looking to our political and religious enemies as the perpetrators. But most horrid of revelations is that once the dreamers and the hopeful have withdrawn, the world is left in the care of the greedy and pessimistic. Either it will be destroyed by humanity's hubris and greed, or wiped clean by the pessimist who decided it would be best to start anew.
How important are our stories then? Can they really be more than entertainment for the bored on a day off from the routine? Throughout our history, we have been subtly influenced by the stories we hear and read. We have been inspired by art, poems, myth, and legend. Perhaps we look to a paragon of virtue, a hero we all aspire to. A story of rebellion may give us hope for the future. Tales of betrayal warn us of what may change the hearts of our friends. Tragedies remind us of the ephemeral nature of life, to treasure the fleeting moments of joy we experience. Even the fall of good people, their transformations into villains, tell us that anyone can be capable of such evil and that they were once someone we may have called friend if things were different.
On the topic of evil, a concept to easily differentiate morality, we find that the concept of universally abhorrent evil, is a rare thing. There will always be someone who can defend the choices of others. In most cases, evil is better described as a willingness to do something despite it negatively affecting others. But there are even those who decide not to consider morality in their actions, the world is simply a reality of choices, options, and consequences. Can we truly label such individuals as evil? They hold no ill will toward others, they simply accept reality as they perceive it to be.
We can explore such concepts, opinions, and philosophies through stories. Absolute certainty in one's virtue, wisdom, and awareness, colloquially known as being "woke", leads to nothing but the censure of different opinions, ideas, and voices without so much as a consideration of a reality, only because one feels the argument is academic and no longer relevant, having been answered by themselves.
We do this to our detriment.
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Band Crush: In light of Coronavirus outbreak, RESORT is here to remind us that it’s okay to dance through the darkness with their light-hearted debut EP, RESORT Vol. 1
Having released their debut EP titled RESORT Vol. 1 during early March of this year, the Kuala Lumpur-origin indie pop trio is here to entertain us amidst the darkest time of the world with their lively and hooky-minded tunes taken from the aforementioned studio effort.
Words by Shafadzlin A. Shaharir
For those who may haven’t come across this musical gem yet, here’s a piece of an introductory statement about the band: RESORT is a newly emerged three-piece indie pop band, formed back in January 2019 – consisting of the long-time friends Sek Hao Ho (lead vocalist) and Kyle Emmanuel (drummer) who have known each other since 2010 and would then meet Victor Yee (bassist) through their mutual friends. Particularly emphasizing on the modern living politics that could be notably noticed through their lyrical references, even the meaning behind the band’s name itself has a story worth telling. The band shares that the name of RESORT was inspired by two separate events, one being the meaning behind the word “resort” which terminologically brings a sense of relaxation and want, and another being a creative agreement with then-marketing manager, Isaac Miranda of “RESORT” being a household name that people easily identify with.
On 10 March 2020, RESORT eventually arrived with their debut EP, RESORT Vol. 1 after continuously teasing the fans with their previously released singles including that of their debut track “Fix Everything”, “Terrible Conversations” and the h u e-featured “Do It Again” which are also included as part of the EP’s highlights. We talk about their debut EP, and this is how we go.
Hi RESORT! First of all, congratulations for the release of your debut extended play titled, RESORT Vol. 1. How do you guys feel after finally letting out your studio efforts to be heard by the world?
Thank you so much! It’s just a whiff of relief that we finally released a batch of our music out from our arsenal of written songs. We can’t wait to connect with more of our listeners and we hope the EP gets to more after.
Starting with the introductory track, “Intro (Being Hurt)” to finally ending with the concluding track, “Right After Sorries”, we sense that the album seems to be purposely arranged in chronology as if there’s a whole, real love story which is about to be divulged musically. Could you guys share with us more about this?
Funny you mentioned, it does look like a love story chronologically while we never meant for it to be as such. The context over this entire EP is our depiction of modern day struggles, relationships and love that we’ve experienced in our lives. We’re just talking about how we understand these topics that have ever-changing methods based on time.
In an intimate prologue of “RESORT Vol. 1 EP (Behind the Music)”, you guys did mention about the outcomes of the materials are closely related to your Asian roots. In what ways do you guys perceive the album as being representative and holds dear of your Asian cultures, personally?
It’s definitely the lyrical content or idea behind some of the songs, if not all the songs since we’re just talking about our experience of life in our Asian cultures. Topics and hints like Asian “daddy issues” and unconventional wild animal cuisines are included in some of our songs that we take pride in.
In the aforementioned video, you guys did also mention “These songs, we wrote them from very personal places. Basically, just really unplanned and spontaneous moments, with a lot of emotions.” We wonder, what were those spontaneous moments could be all about, to the point you guys would end up creating 7-track of heart-wrenching pieces indeed?
The spontaneity behind the creation of the music really. We have band days when we meet and write together, and the beauty behind the time we had together were how quickly and genuinely some of these songs came. One minute we were talking about an idea of the song and by the end of the day, we’d have more than the one-dimensional idea we were talking about in the beginning, moulded and crafted into lyrics and song.
How does it feel like to be working together with a fellow musician, h u e. for the track “Do It Again”?
Organic. It was different but it came almost as simple as the other songs. What we’ve all got to know about h u e. is that he’s a formidable musician that is very well-informed in his musical knowledge and he’s really one heck of a producer. He spends his free hours dissecting and categorising sound samples from packs he’s gotten over the weekend or something. Working with him is a treat and the world needs to hear him.
RESORT Vol. 1 indeed does an excellent job in unravelling RESORT’s capability of accommodating with different kinds of sounds. At one point, we could even hear the 80’s dance pop influences in the last track, “Right After Sorries”. To whom does this album owe its influences from?
Because there are three of us, the list of heroes might be a little lengthy but we’ll try to keep it concise to this EP. We were inspired by the likes of The 1975, HONNE, Coldplay, Last Dinosaurs, Foster the People, Great Good Fine Ok and more.
Out of those seven tracks taken from the extended play, “The Nights Are The Hardest” undeniably stands out sonically due to its enticing jazzy sound. Would you guys mind sharing the story behind this very track?
“The Nights Are The Hardest” talks about how it sucks when two people get into an argument and one of them doesn’t want to deal with the matter at the time. What happens after that is a whole cascade of internal unsettled thoughts, assumptions and questions that plagues the other person (that wants to deal with the matter) up until the time of resolve. In the case of the song, the next day after the night. We just wanted to relate with people who know what we’re talking about and that we understand that those nights are the hardest. We’ll also be having a music video out for it!
What are the messages that RESORT hopes for the listeners to extract by the time they reach at the end of the album listening?
That there’s a ton of people in the world and there’re many different ways of thinking in the world, and that there are people who go through the same things as you do. We hope they find some sort of comfort in knowing that they’re not alone, like we did.
Honestly, we couldn’t help but wonder, how does it feel like to be able to tell the relatable stories of hearts and vulnerabilities to the crowd through music which is something that you guys are clearly passionate about?
It can get very difficult sometimes to be vulnerable because we don’t actually know if the music is actually relatable. But to know that we’re just putting out what we think is best is rewarding enough to us. We really just want to connect with people.
So, we get it that RESORT Vol. 1 is an introductory body of work by RESORT Vol. 1 to the music community. Could be, will there be any potential RESORT Vol. 2 coming in the way in the future?
Yes, for sure. We actually have written more than seven songs to the release of RESORT Vol. 1. This EP is just a compilation of what we thought would fit a “boppy” start for us. We’ll be releasing a single every month this 2020 until we reach the release of Volume 2. It should be good and we’re hoping to reach more doorsteps.
Last but not least, any messages to the fans of RESORT out there?
This time of the Covid-19, we just want to remind everyone that we’re all in this together and we have to help one another especially now. We are hearing about underprivileged families and people that are suffering, people losing their jobs and having their salaries cut and many other related incidents. Let’s do what we can to be kind and be human. Stay safe and stay hopeful. We will be making more music in hopes to make your days a little better and we’ll try to do more to help. Much love.
Watch RESORT’s music video for their latest single, “Terrible Conversations” taken from RESORT Vol. 1 EP:
youtube
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Buenos Aires
The first stop of my trip is done and it was a promising start. Vancouver waved goodbye as only Vancouver can: With grey skies and plenty of rain. But a bit more than 24 hours and two stopovers later Argentina welcomed me with bright sunshine on a hot afternoon. Oh how much I missed this. The remainder of my first day turned out to be pretty lousy but in hindsight I blame my extreme fatigue for that (I didn't catch any sleep during the flight).
First thing I wanted to do after I checked in to my hostel was to get some cash and buy some food. The first two ATMs I tried didn't give me any money though. Everything on the screen was in Spanish, so I didn't really understand what the error message was saying. No problem I thought, then I'll pay for my food with my credit card. The first supermarket I went to didn't accept my Visa though and I had to leave confused, hungry and still empty-handed. Fortunately I managed to find one that did - but the process was quite laborious: They had to see my passport and didn't have these fancy electronic machines to transact the payment. I had to sign a receipt instead. This wasn't a surprise to me, I've read about this procedure before. But going through it for the first time when you're basically just buying some bread and butter just changes your perception. I was tired, I was overwhelmed, I just went to bed and hoped things would get better. Luckily they did.
There weren't many people in the hostel, but I managed to find a guy who explained the money situation in Argentina a little bit to me. Skip a few paragraphs if you don't wanna know. First of all, in Argentina cash is king (am I back in Germany?). Also the country is suffering from inflation - a lot. As a result, locals try to save their money in US dollars. All this shemozzle means that a few things are happening:
ATMs regularly run out of money during the day
You can't withdraw more than 4,000 pesos in one transaction (currently equals AUD 100 or 60 EUR)
You can't withdraw more than 8,000 pesos in one day
You are being charged between 300 and 600 pesos for every withdrawal (thankfully my Australian bank rebates these fees)
The government is making it hard for locals to exchange money and there are a lot of limitations in place
On top of that out of the two ATM networks here, one simply won't give me any cash. Ever. I tried many times. So far with the other ATM network my success rate was 50-50. I also found out that quite a few places actually accept credit card payments. You simply need to know where to go. My strategy now is to do little payments in cash and larger payments with credit card and I generally try to stay away from Argentine pesos as much as possible. You feel SO much better once you understand this stuff and can put a strategy in place.
Let's get back to Buenos Aires - the Paris of South America. This is actually true, a lot of buildings look very European and the majority of them look very French to me. The reason for that is quite funny, too: During it's best time (Argentina was the third richest country once), people wanted to differentiate themselves from all the other cities in South America. The rich travelled to Europe on a regular basis and when they came back, they tore down their buildings and decided to replicate all sorts of things they saw in Italy or France.
Teatro Colón
Well, rich humans just do super weird things when they are bored and it's quite apparent here when you dive a little into the history of this city. The most spectacular story I came across was the one about the church Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento. First of all only European material was used to build it. 100%. Every doorknob came all the way across the ocean. Then there is the motivation behind it: Mercedes Castellanos de Anchorena really, really wanted to be noble - nobody in Argentina was noble at that time. So she decided to build this church just across the road from where she was living in a decadent palace. She gave it to the church and ding - the Pope granted her a noble title. But the crazy story doesn't stop there. There was another rich woman called Corina Kavanagh who was the lover of one of Mercedes' brothers. Apparently Mercedes prevented them from getting married. Corina wasn't happy about that and she knew that Mercedes loved to see that church of hers from her balcony. So Corina went and bought the land right in front of the church, decided to put a high apartment building on it and block the view for Mercedes. At that time, this building was also the highest building in South America and became quite an iconic landmark for Buenos Aires. Revenge is a dish best served cold.
A church that makes you noble
I spent three days in total in the capital and it turned out to be the right amount of time. The city is quite big, very modern and I walked most of the time. First I explored San Telmo which is the oldest part of Buenos Aires. Lots of cafes and antique shops can be found on these old cobblestone streets. I also found some nice street art and the narrowest home - not wider than two doors basically. And it’s called La Casa Mínima. Spanish can be quite amusing.
Tiny house - not a new phenomenon
I continued strolling along Plaza de Mayo which is THE city square. On one end you find a big pink building which one might know from a speech held by a person called Madonna Evita.
Casa Rosada
For the rest of the day I decided to walk along a famous shopping street in the quest for one my most important purchase of the whole trip: A new pair of Havaianas. After finding them, I finished the afternoon with my first dulce de leche ice cream. Spoiler: There will be an extra paragraph about the food.
On day two I was mainly exploring Recoleta. This is where the posh people live and it was by far the cleanest area in Buenos Aires. It's also where I picked up the stories above. I learned a lot about the Falklands war, too and it made me hate Margaret Thatcher even more. The whole thing is still an important topic for Argentinians and during elections candidates are still being asked what their position is in regards to the Islas Malvinas. That whole conflict and how it came about left a huge scar in the nation's heart and it's still far from being processed.
I finished the day checking out the famous Recoleta cemetery. It was cruel and impressive at the same time. I'm always amazed when I go to cemeteries outside of Germany, they are usually so different. I think the correct term to use is "monumental cemetery", whilst in Germany "lawn cemeteries" are more common. Similar to what I've seen in Paris and London this cemetery is structured like a little town with street names and stuff. There are impressive monuments everywhere, some in really good shape, others sadly falling apart. Of course I had to go to Evita's grave which is actually quite easy to find - don't let tour operators fool you. Yes, there are cemetery tours up to 2 hours long. Now to the cruel part: I did a little research into how the remains of Evita and the national hero José de San Martín (there are statues of him everywhere) were treated and boy oh boy, humans can be so shitty to each other. Even when they're already dead. Both of them were basically constantly moved around, buried upside down, their coffins put in an angle... and all because they believed in things or did things in their life that other people didn't approve of.
I see dead people
On my last day I went North and explored the neighbourhood of Palermo. Apart from the usual stuff (shopping, restaurants, cafes...) there were also two museum in this area that sounded interesting: The Evita museum and a place called MALBA. The Evita museum obviously gives you a deep insight into Eva Peron's life. Very informative and nicely done. MALBA is an art museum in a pretty cool building. One of the exhibitions was quite interactive and fun.
MALBA
One of the things I missed the most on all three days was water! I have no idea how the citizens of Buenos Aires survive these hot summers without access to a natural body of water. There were some little pools that were totally crowded and even though it looks like the city would be by the sea, it's actually at the mouth of River Plate which is definitely not feasible for swimming as it is super silty.
One of the last things I have to write about is the food. I was looking forward to try the Argentine cuisine and so far I haven't been disappointed at all. In fact, if I continue eating like I did in the last few days I will very soon look like the guy in the illustration. This is the stuff I've tried so far:
Steak
My favourite cut so far is called bife de chorizo. They sometimes put egg on it which makes we wonder if the dish then qualifies as breakfast.
Yum!
Pizza
The difference to Italian pizza is that Argentinians like to put loads and loads of cheese and olives on their pizza. As a person who usually puts extra cheese on their frozen pizza, I surely won't complain about this.
Empanada
Should be renamed to "pockets of gold". Small, fried dough pockets stuffed with... well... meat! Prepare me a bath of Empanadas and I will swim in it the whole day.
Helado
Argentinian ice cream. Coming from a country where I was struggling to find really good ice cream, pretty much every ice cream I had in Buenos Aires so far was a gazillion times better.
Also yum!
Alfajores
A type of biscuit: Dulce de leche sandwiched between two crumbly cookies. Not my favourite but still a lot better than bloody Oreos.
Medialunas
Like a croissant but a bit smaller and denser. I think I prefer them over croissants because they are less messy.
Mate (the tea)
I'm not entirely sure yet what I should think about this drink. It will surely get a separate blog post at some point as it it closely linked to a whole social event with a mate etiquette etc. Stay tuned!
Short version: I think I'm in food heaven and it will be hard to continue with my one or two veggie days a week strategy. There is still a lot more to try and I can't wait to participate in my first Asado.
Tango tango
All in all I would say that I enjoyed my time in Buenos Aires. I felt pretty safe, the weather was great and the food was to die for. It would have been nice to have a few more people in the hostel (on my last day we were down to three) but this will probably change now that I'm on my way to Patagonia where it's peak season. I'll be in cold Ushuaia for a week or so before gradually going up North again.
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Meet Bottarga: It's Like Parmesan, but From the Sea!
[Photographs: Vicky Wasik]
It goes by many names.
You might know it as karasumi, served along with sake or beer at some izakaya. You might have heard it called eoran if you ate it along with other anju (Korean drinking food), washed down with a swig of soju. Or maybe you call it something else: the Greeks call it avgotaraho; the French, poutarge. In Croatia, they call it butarga or butarge, which is closer to the name with which most people in the United States are familiar, if they're familiar with it at all: bottarga. Or perhaps you know it from its name in Arabic, butarkah, whence its Italian name derives.
No matter what you call it, the product is essentially the same: Bottarga is the roe sac of a fish, most commonly grey mullet, which is salted, massaged to expel air pockets, then pressed and dried. It's a delicacy the world over, and it dates back to ancient times. Almost anywhere humans fished, it seems, once they learned of this preservation technique, they extracted fish roe sacs and salted and dried them to produce a deeply savory pantry staple that's resistant to rot. Bottarga is wonderful to eat with vegetables, grated over almost any starch or grain, or just on its own, sliced paper thin and seasoned with a little salt or soy sauce, a squeeze of lemon, and a slick of flavorful oil.
We'll take a deep dive into the history of bottarga, the different types that can be purchased and where to find them, as well as what to do with it once you've got some on your hands. The bottom line is this: You should buy some. Right now! Stash it in the fridge and pull it out for special occasions; treat it like the luxury it is.
Or you can do what I do: Use it as often as your budget allows. While it may be pricey, you can use bottarga with any number of different foods. Like soy sauce, or fish sauce, or Parmigiano-Reggiano, it's an easy and quick way to add a savory richness to dishes, whether it's pasta or eggs, and it never feels not special, and it's more affordable than it seems.
Three examples of bottarga. Clockwise from left: mullet bottarga from l'Oro di Cabras; tuna bottarga; mullet bottarga from Smeralda.
The method for preserving the roe sacs of grey mullet is thought to have originated with the Phoenicians, who spread it to Egypt, where the first documentary evidence of the practice is said to be found. I say "said to be found" because in the many explainers and histories of bottarga that can be found online, one claim about the existence of an Egyptian mural dating back to the 10th century BCE that depicts fishermen preparing sacs of roe, is recycled frequently. Egypt is also thought by many to be the origin point of bottarga for the wider world since the word "bottarga" is derived from the Arabic word "butarkhah," which in turn is derived from Coptic.
But, according to Andrew Dalby, a historian and linguist, the roots of the word are a little more complicated. Dalby notes that bottarga was enjoyed by the inhabitants of Byzantium, which was colonized by the Greeks in around 600 BCE. As he writes in Tastes of Byzantium: The Cuisine of a Legendary Empire, "In addition to all the seafood delicacies known to classical Greece, the Byzantines appreciated salted greymullet [sic] roe, ootarikhon (literally 'egg pickle': the Greek word is the source of Coptic outarakhon and thus of Arabic butarkhah and of the modern term 'botargo')," which seems to indicate that the Greeks can lay claim to the name, if not the process itself.
Regardless of its origins, bottarga and the method for making it was transmitted to civilizations all along the Silk Road, ending up both in the Far East, in places like China, South Korea, and Japan, and in the West, including what is now Italy. It is discussed in Libro de Arte Coquinaria, a book of Italian medieval cookery written around 1465 by Martino de Rossi, who is variously known as "the prince of chefs" or, more dismally, "the world's first celebrity chef." Many of the recipes in the book, which has been translated, outfitted with additional recipes, and published by the University of California Press as The Art of Cooking: The First Modern Cookery Book, were copied entirely by Bartolomeo Sacchi in his gastronomical treatise De honesta voluptate et valetudine, which has the distinction of being the first cookbook ever printed. Of bottarga, the prince of chefs describes the process of making it—use very fresh roe, cure it with salt, press it, then dry—and offers just a small note on how to eat it: "Bottarga is generally eaten raw, but those who wish to cook it can do so by heating it under ashes or on a clean, hot hearth, turning it over until it is hot all the way through."
Samuel Pepys, whose detailed diary has offered up to a history a clear view of life in England in the latter half of 17th century, mentions bottarga in an accounting of a fine-sounding summer night's activities in the diary entry from June 5, 1661: "So home Sir William and I, and it being very hot weather I took my flageolette and played upon the leads in the garden, where Sir W. Pen came out in his shirt into his leads, and there we staid talking and singing, and drinking great drafts of claret, and eating botargo and bread and butter till 12 at night, it being moonshine; and so to bed, very near fuddled."
All of which I note merely to point out that it has been enjoyed for centuries, from Byzantium to Rome and London and beyond.
Interior of Smeralda-brand mullet bottarga
The botargo of Samuel Pepys and the bottarga of Martino de Rossi appear to be extremely similar products to the bottarga we can buy today: that is, bottarga di muggine, or the roe sacs of grey mullets, cured and dried. There are some differences between different cultures' bottarga-like products: The Greeks appear to coat their avgotaraho in beeswax, which acts as a preservative; karasumi produced in Japan and Taiwan is not dried as thoroughly as Italian bottarga, and is a little softer as a result (and is often also covered in wax to prevent further drying). Eoran, the Korean version of cured and dried grey mullet roe, is cured in soy sauce, and is brushed with sesame oil as it dries—here is a wonderful collection of photos of the process.
Interior of l'Oro di Cabras-brand mullet bottarga
There is one other variety of bottarga that should be mentioned, namely bottarga di tonno, made from sacs of tuna roe. While bottarga made from grey mullet is generally more prized than tuna bottarga due to its more delicate (read: milder, less fishy) flavor, at least in the United States, the tuna variety is far more difficult to find, and much more expensive. It is also slightly softer than the mullet variety, which makes it difficult to grate, even with a microplane (popping it in the freezer for a bit helps).
Interior of tuna bottarga
Bottarga made from mullet roe is subtly salty, with hints of the fishiness you'd taste in caviar or uni. The bottarga made from tuna roe has a more pronounced salinity and more aggressive dried fish flavor, with a definite mineral edge. Tastes vary, of course, but for my part, I prefer the tuna bottarga.
Mullet bottarga from l'Oro di Cabras, sold by Gustiamo.
Bottarga is a specialty item, and, as such, you'll have to seek it out at Italian specialty stores or online—Amazon has quite a large selection. For those readers who live in New York City, the two locations of Eataly regularly carry bottarga, and specialty shops like Un Posto Italiano regularly stock bottarga, too.
I generally buy and use the Sardinian mullet bottarga imported by Gustiamo, which you can purchase through Amazon, or from Gustiamo directly. Gustiamo is also, as far as I can tell, the only domestic importer of tuna roe bottarga, although the product is, at $57 for about four ounces, significantly more expensive than the mullet bottarga, which a similar sized piece sells for just $24.
We do not recommend buying pre-grated bottarga products, as it is, like hard cheese, best when grated fresh. And speaking of cheese, I find it best to view bottarga in the same context as premium cheese products like Parmigiano-Reggiano. A pound of Parmigiano usually retails for about $20, and while that is about five times cheaper than a pound of bottarga, that amount of cheese will suffice for a similar number of plates of pasta as four ounces of bottarga, since you'll use bottarga more sparingly.
Aside from the way it tastes, the best part of bottarga is that it effectively keeps indefinitely. Even after you open up the packaging, peel back the pellicle, and grate some over pasta, the remainder will keep, tightly wrapped in plastic and refrigerated, for months and months.
A word about that pellicle: It is in fact the membrane that encapsulates the roe sac, which turns papery during the process of curing and drying. While it is not absolutely necessary to remove it, it is preferable. As Andrew Feinberg notes in Franny's: Simple, Seasonal, Italian, if you don't peel it off, "it might get caught in your teeth." Generally speaking, I peel only as much as I want to use, much like certain salami with inedibly chewy casings.
Mullet bottarga with the pellicle partially removed.
Once it's peeled, you're all set to use it as you see fit. You can use it as a finishing ingredient, finely grated or crumbled over any number of things, or you can enjoy it on its own, in thin slices, dressed with a little olive oil, salt, and a squeeze of lemon. If you like, you can go in an Asian direction, or a Middle Eastern one; it has been enjoyed the world over for hundreds of years because of its versatility, and I'm sure it would go well with the flavors of any cuisine—Mexican, say, or Thai.
Pasta with tuna bottarga (left) and mullet bottarga (right)
Here, then, is a short list of suggestions: It is excellent grated over pasta, particularly in simpler preparations, like aglio e olio or, my current favorite pasta and bottarga combination, pasta al limone. (Italian purists, like Sasha, will object to just grating bottarga over any old pasta, as there is a specific pasta dish called—what else?—pasta con la bottarga. I am obviously not a purist, nor Italian!) It is a wonderful accent for the humble boiled egg, whether hard- or soft-boiled; it is a fine addition to a plate of soft-scrambled eggs; it is quite tasty with a plain bowl of steamed white rice, or as a topping for tamago kaki gohan; it is a fitting substitute for grated dried scallops in fried rice, of the kind you might find at a Cantonese banquet hall—grate it on top of a mound of fried rice before serving.
The only note of caution I'll provide is you should avoid cooking bottarga. As Martino says, you can gently warm it, but given its delicate flavor and its high cost, it would be a waste to, say, sauté grated bottarga along with a sofrito.
Barring that, do with it what you like. Put it on mashed potatoes, or grate it over broiled asparagus or, like a particularly inventive cook in New York, put it on top of beef tartare. The ocean's the limit.
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Source: https://www.seriouseats.com/2019/03/bottarga-the-international-delicacy-everyone-should-try.html
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