theres a greek sports anime boy named zeus iliopoulos help

Inktober #8: Frail

This was delayed a day because it’s longer than any of the others. Relates to my WIP “No Drama”, aka “Q is an investigative journalist researching whether God is a corrupt politician of his people”. 

So the first thing I need to explain before I tell you about meeting Heph is his name.

Humans call me John Deer (it’s a joke. Their name for a man who has no name is John Doe, but a doe is a female deer. I don’t technically have one of their genders, strictly speaking, and if you go by the body I’m in, it’s not female, so I thought I’d go by John Deer. Turns out the joke’s on me; add a silent e to the name and it’s a company that makes tractors. Go figure.)  However, as I hope would be obvious, that’s not my real name. The Aleph don’t have physical bodies and aren’t made of matter and the pure information we are made of doesn’t translate to syllables you or anything that makes sound can pronounce. If I were to translate my name, it would be impossibly long to convey in words; an Aleph’s name is, essentially, a hash function of our personality, the defining nature of our being. I’m not going to stand here and recite my entire personality to you, or anyone else’s entire personality, either, and don’t expect any other Aleph to do so.

So when we walk among pre-eschatonic species, we generally go by the names of gods in their language, or animals of symbolic value (which on most planets, for many groups on that planet, are indistinguishable from gods), or Virtue Names like “Patience” (that one is definitely not mine). And then, when we speak to one another with our meat mouths because we’re in meat bodies, we use those names, the use-names specific for that planet, that culture, that language. On Earth, in English-speaking languages (as well as a significant number of the other ones), I’m known to other Aleph as Fox, Ferret or Weasel, depending on their current opinion of me. My opponent goes by the Lion, or the Ape. But Heph doesn’t use animal names; for the past several hundred years, when he walked on this planet, he called himself Hephaestus. The Greek God of engineering, smithing and invention – technology, in other words – who also happened to be crippled. I think it would be hard to find a myth better suited to be Heph’s use-name.

You see, Heph was born damaged. (We aren’t “born” like you’re born, messy screaming infants coming out of a parent’s orifices. A seed is woven by an entire team of Aleph who’ve chosen to procreate and gotten permission to do so, and then that seed grows fractally. So we are a little less random than spinning the Wheel of Sperm and Ova like you guys do… but not much less random.) By the time he was grown enough that anyone was able to notice the damage, it was too late to correct him without making major changes to his essence, and most Aleph would have to be dying before they’d consent to that (if then. Personally I’d rather die.) It’s hard to explain what the problem is to a non-Aleph, so I need to draw an analogy. In essence… his bandwidth is too low. He cannot quickly upload anything to the Host, and he doesn’t have the storage capacity for the energy we draw down to do our reality-altering things. Where the rest of us are gods, Heph is barely a guardian spirit.

Back when we were both living in the Host most of the time, I am… ashamed to admit that I overlooked Heph, the way almost all the Aleph do. He can’t join with one of us – well, he can, but it’s shallow because of his low bandwidth. Not to be crude about it but it’s as if one of your males was trying to make love to a woman with the vaginal depth of a tea saucer. It… doesn’t do a lot for most Aleph. He can’t participate in most of the things we do because he can’t store enough energy to do it. So he isolates himself from us, and we let him do it because we’re all kind of at a loss as to how you include a guy who can’t do 90% of what you take for granted.

Heph, however, is very smart. All Aleph are by human standards, but Heph is by our standards. So he found a way around the problem.

When I met him on Earth, I was dying in a gutter. I’d been sentenced to a decade of being locked down to a single mortal body, and since I’d been on Earth when they grabbed me and put me on trial, it was Earth they sent me back to. Specifically, Victorian England. Naked, and with no money. Or antibodies. I ended up in a workhouse, where as you can imagine I did fantastically well since I’ve always been so eager to do pointless busywork and follow orders. The main punishment for disobedience was not being fed, followed by being held in a cell for a day and then given clothes that were supposed to shame you. I had no sense of shame, but I got a lot less food than the body I was in needed, and I was surrounded by people who were not in the best health. When I couldn’t work anymore and I was delirious with fever, they threw me out to be picked up with the rest of the refuse, assuming I’d be dead by morning.

Heph was on Earth too. He tracked me down, using technology he’d created. That’s Heph’s thing. He creates technology to compensate for his weaknesses. We have safeguards against anyone or anything but a recognized member of the Host drawing on power, so his tech can’t do all the shiny things a full-powered Aleph can, but we have plenty of access protocols to reach the database of knowledge. So he was able to find me. No Aleph was supposed to render me aid, but Heph was not afraid of pulling the cripple card to get away with doing anything he’d been forbidden to do that he nonetheless decided was the right thing to do. He may be one of the smartest of us, but most Aleph treat him as if he’s not particularly bright, just because he can’t output his thoughts as fast as the rest of us, or fork himself and multi-process. And he made sure not to give me any aid that only an Aleph would be capable of. He fed me bread mold, a powerful antibiotic – you know it as penicillin – that humans happened to not have discovered yet, and pumped sugar, water and saline solution directly into my veins with a sterile glass tube ending in a needle, which humans would later refer to as an IV once they’d invented it. It was all with materials that could be found on Earth, that humans could have discovered (and in fact did, later on.)

I didn’t know my sentence was for a decade. Nobody had told me there was a time limit. I thought they’d left me on Earth to die. Heph restored meaning to my life. The Host as a whole may have abandoned me, but one specific Aleph still cared, and went well out of his way to take care of me. Heph’s not known for being a fluffy, love and compassion kind of guy; he’s cold, aloof, introverted, with difficulty outputting his emotions in a format most Aleph can read, and his shallow bandwidth means that if an Aleph tried to probe him directly, it would cause him a lot of pain. Which, since we are a compassionate species, meant no one was allowed to probe him without his permission. Which he never gave.

In those days, Heph had been tall and broad-shouldered, still going with the whole blacksmith motif. He was never ripped like a bodybuilder, but his upper body had some substantial muscle to it. He’d affected black curly hair and bronze skin like the Greeks he’d named himself for. And he’d worn thick spectacles and walked with a cane. I’m not sure whether he does it on purpose or whether it’s a subconscious compulsion, but every body Heph creates for himself in matter has damage to mobility and damage to perception, representing what he suffers in his true form. I tend to think Heph identifies so strongly with being disabled, he can’t imagine having a form that isn’t.

Ten years before I’d even learned the sentence was finite. Heph had known, but hadn’t been allowed to tell me – and while obviously he thought he could get away with saving my life and being my companion and showing me how to survive as a human, equally obviously he didn’t want to disobey the Host in the matter of telling me my sentence. Their logic was that it was hardly an aspect of being mortal to know for a fact that if you just survive long enough you’ll get your immortality back. The truth was, of course, the Lion had had the judges in his pocket. We hated each other even then; that’s why I started investigating him. He had them do it to be pointlessly cruel, and they came up with a rationalization to the rest of the Host. Well, in those ten years, Heph became my best friend. Raven and Cat and Monkey, my other close friends, hadn’t come to visit. Even Isis, who treated me like I was her little brother and used to watch out for me when we were millions of years younger, left me there. Heph was the only Aleph willing to risk the displeasure of the Host to be my friend.

So as soon as I came back to Earth, I looked him up, of course.

I’m kind of in the same boat he’s always been in; I have my powers, but the moment I draw down energy to do anything major, or even upload any complex hand-rolled query, my memories upload to the Host. And I’m absolutely sure that the Lion is going to honor the law and not seek to obtain illicit access to privacy-locked memories. Yup. Positive. So the moment I use my powers, my enemy gets to see exactly what I’ve been thinking and planning up to that point. Which means I can’t use my powers for anything short of “my physical body has just been killed and I need to upload or I’ll actually die.” But locating a fellow Aleph is such a common query, we have a wizard for it, which can be triggered without uploading – and while my privacy lock keeps that particular simple query from finding me, Heph’s never felt the need to hide.

But I gotta admit I was kind of shocked when I saw his new body.

He recognized me, of course. “Fox. Come on in.”

Heph was living in a farmhouse that he’d converted to his brand of tech wonderland, probably because he wanted to have enough land between him and his human neighbors that no one called the cops for strange noises or mysterious lights. I stepped over several gadgets of unknown function, following Heph to the kitchen. “You still drink tea?” he asked me.

“Uh, yeah, what have you got?”

“Oolong, chai, green with ginger, peach chamomile, Earl Grey, and hibiscus.”

“Gimme the chai.” The last time we’d met, chai had been something you’d only get if you were actually in India.

I made my way to his kitchen table, which was covered with papers and had what looked like two laptops sitting on it. I happened to know they were laptops the way desktop computers are abacuses, but humans probably wouldn’t have been easily able to tell the difference, unless they knew the Unix operating system well enough to know that Heph was not running a variant of it. Heph pushed the papers out of the way on one of the chairs, giving me a clear spot to sit down, as he remote-activated a teakettle with his mind.

“What brings you back to Earth?” he asked.

“Before we get into that, I need to address the elephant in the room, Heph.”

“No one here goes by Elephant.”

If I hadn’t known Heph as well as I did, I might not have guessed he was telling a joke; he was completely deadpan. “Yeah yeah. What have you done to your use-form?”

Like I said, the last time I’d seen Heph, he’d been built, matching the crippled blacksmith stereotype. Now… he was still tall. That was about the only point of resemblance. He’d gone for a pasty white, skinny form with long blond hair in a ponytail, thick glasses with a tint to them so I couldn’t really see his eyes well, and his body looked like it would blow away in a strong wind. There was a visible brace on his left leg, and he dragged it very slightly when he walked. Heph had always made his use-forms disabled, but there’s disabled and then there’s “looks completely helpless.”

“This is the new look for the 21st century technologist,” Heph said.

“It looks like the consumption chic that was going around in Byron’s day. Do you eat? At all?”

“Sure. Chips, pizza, burgers. All of the fatty, unhealthy stuff that modern technology gurus poison themselves with when they’re crunching on a project, which is all the time.”

“Great, so you’re not just incredibly skinny, you also probably have a dozen vitamin deficiencies. Heph. You gotta keep that body running! With your upload time—”

“Thanks, I’m aware of my upload time. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t drop in on me just to tell me I’m too thin.”

“I’m worried about you. You look like one high fever could do you in.”

“They’ve invented a lot more antibiotics than they had around when you got sick. Listen, Fox, I get that you’re worried, but I’m not trapped like you were. If something goes wrong with this body because it’s too fragile to survive, which is highly unlikely anyway, I’ll have enough time to upload. I’ve got plenty of equipment to scan it for health.” He got to his feet with some difficulty and limped over toward the singing teakettle.

“What was wrong with the old one?”

“Firstly, too many photographs got taken of it. I had to fake my death so I didn’t have uncomfortable questions about why I looked exactly like my great-grandfather.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before posing for photographs right after they were invented.”

“It’s not the Victoriana I was concerned with, it was more the World War II era stuff. And secondly, it’s the aesthetic. Today people don’t think of blacksmiths when they think of technology. They think of autistic white men with bad vision.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually give yourself autism or is that just a metaphor?”

“Look the definitions up, I am actually the closest thing to autistic the Aleph have ever produced.” He came over to the table with my tea. I didn’t try to help him or intercept him. Quite aside from the fact that he’d find it insulting, he had so much junk on the floor that his knowledge of what to step over and when made him more mobile than I’d be. “But stop trying to sidetrack me. What are you doing on Earth?”

If another Aleph had asked that question, there might have been all kinds of subtext in there. Are you in exile again? Have you gone native after spending ten years as a mortal here? Don’t you have anything better to do? From Heph, it more or less meant exactly what he’d asked. “Can’t tell you unless you’ve run a backup,” I said, taking a sip of the tea.

Heph rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic,” he said. “Look at this.” He got up again and dodged some more junk on the floor, making his way toward what the people who’d built this place probably thought of as a family room or maybe sitting room. I followed, feeling like a drunk guy in a china shop. My personal aesthetic has never been tiny, delicate motions, so getting anywhere across Heph’s floor without breaking his stuff was like a minefield, except with fewer actual explosions, I hoped.

It was a metal box. “Very impressive,” I said. “I especially like the craft in the solder lines.”

“Don’t be an ass. Here.” He unlatched a latch I hadn’t recognized and lifted the lid. Inside was a crystalline array of the kind the Aleph used to use before we shifted to encoding our data in neutron stars. “Local backup device.”

I tried not to look impressed. Of course Heph had a local backup device. I was kicking myself for not assuming he’d have created such a thing. “Does it work?”

“I changed my use-form. How do you think I did that without it being a major pain in the rear?”

That was a good point. Heph’s bandwidth was low enough that it would take him a couple of days to upload to the Host. Changing bodies would have involved creating a new form, uploading out of it, and then downloading into the new one… which was a problem if it took you two days to upload or download, because your physical body might very well die on you or suffer brain damage while you were imperfectly socketed in it. I felt a lot better about Heph’s frailty now. “How long does it take to transfer to that?”

“I’m running delta backups every time I sleep, so if the body were to die unexpectedly, I’d only need to transfer at most a day’s worth of memories and experiences. Probably 20 minutes at a maximum. Also, if it wasn’t obvious to you, I’m not doing regular backups to the Host and I can tag data to keep it out of the upload when I do, and there’s no way any other Aleph is getting into my local backup server. It’s not even connected to the Host except when I run uploads from it.”

Okay. His memories weren’t accessible to the Lion either. That meant it was safe to tell him the details of what I was up to. I made my way back to the table with my teacup. “So, this is going to be a long story…”

“I always work off the motto of, ‘if you think you’re working hard, there’s always someone else who’s working harder’… there is nothing easy about the sport or music industries, and you have to work so hard to be successful.” - Niall Horan

On The Loose: released official fourth single from Flicker, including a radio edit, lyric video (rip), official video, behind the scenes video, Basic Tape remix, Slenderbodies remix, acoustic version, acoustic video, and vertical video So Long: performed unreleased song on piano throughout Flicker World Tour dates Mirrors EP: released on vinyl for Record Store Day 2018 Seeing Blind: released acoustic video, live video, and radio single in Australia Finally Free: released song for Smallfoot soundtrack and live video recorded at the Greek Theatre, Los Angeles Flicker (song): released as a radio single in the Netherlands Flicker featuring the RTÉ Concert Orchestra: released live album in Ireland, featuring nine songs including an official live version of previously unreleased song So Long

81 tour dates: across Europe, the Asia-Pacific, and the Americas, playing arenas, amphitheatres, state/regional fairs, and large theatres Featured opening acts & special guests: including Wild Youth (Killarney), Julia Michaels (Europe), RuthAnne (Dublin), Lewis Capaldi (Glasgow), Hailee Steinfeld (London), Maren Morris (NZ, Australia, the Americas), Jayda (Manila), Ming Bridges (Singapore), Sugar Me (Tokyo) Setlist: featured 14-15 original songs and 3-4 covers Regular covers: Dancing in the Dark (Bruce Springsteen), Crying in the Club (Camila Cabello), Drag Me Down and Fool’s Gold (One Direction) Covers for select tour dates: Dancing in the Moonlight (Thin Lizzy - Dublin night 1), Where the Street’s Have No Name (U2 - Dublin night 2), Won’t Back Down (Tom Petty - Greek Theatre LA, Red Rocks & others), New York State of Mind (Billy Joel - Jones Beach Theater, Long Island), Life in the Fast Lane (Eagles - final September tour dates) Filmed Red Rocks show: for potential future release Top 50 worldwide tours of 2018: selling more than 445,000 tickets

BBC Biggest Weekend: played a six-song set on the second day of the festival in Swansea Reputation Tour: special guest for Taylor Swift’s first night at Wembley Stadium, performing Slow Hands together RTÉ Concert Orchestra special: performed nine songs from the Flicker album for broadcast in Ireland, later broadcast in France & South Africa Sounds Like Friday Night: performed acoustic version of On The Loose & interview  New York State Fair: played the headline show on the final day of the fair Official livestream: of Flicker World Tour Amsterdam show, in partnership with Live Nation, for a global streaming audience Late Late Show: performed Slow Hands on London episode Virtual reality concert: made London Flicker Sessions show available on MelodyVR platform

Sounds Like Friday Night: interview on BBC RTE: interview with Eoghan McDermott, as part of RTE Concert Orchestra Special The Project: interview on Australian TV The Voice Australia: guest mentor with Delta Goodrem Today Show: interview on Australian TV Sunrise: interview on Australian TV Studio 10: interview on Australian TV Late Late Show: guest on London show, brief appearance on show in October

TalkSport: co-hosted breakfast radio show in January & September Dubai Desert Classic: played in Pro-Am with Rory McIlroy and a competition winner, and participated in a golf clinic, helping two of his Modest! Golf clients gain entry to the pro event US Golf Masters: ambassador for Drive, Chip & Putt competition Ladies golf: signed Maguire sisters to Modest! Golf, announced Ladies event for NI Open in 2019 Ryder Cup: played in celebrity match & Team Europe ambassador BMW PGA Championship: played in Pro-Am with the winner of a BBC Children in Need charity auction Sky Sports British Masters: played in Pro-Am Interviews: ESPN, SkySports, BBC Radio 5, Golf Channel, Bunkered, Ladies European Tour, The Irish Times, Golf Magic, among others LUFC: provoked an infamous Twitter clapback from Leeds United Modest! Golf: supported four players who have secured tour cards for 2019

Irish referendum: supported the yes vote to legalise abortion March for Our Lives: supported cousin’s participation in march for gun control US politics: publicly denounced Trump (again) US mid-term elections: urged US citizens to vote

Horan & Rose: hosted the second edition of the charity gala & golf event, upping the total money raised for charity to £1.5 million to date Charity t-shirt: released second charity t-shirt raising funds for Cancer Research UK and the Kate & Justin Rose Foundation Rays of Sunshine: hosted teens at Flicker World Tour London soundcheck & show, donated Jingle Bell Ball Santa shirt for charity raffle Charity auctions: donated items for multiple fundraisers, including a signed guitar & VIP concert experience for a Grammy auction raising $4,500 for Musicares Foundation; signed boots to a Small Steps charity auction, raising £1,130; signed artwork; signed guitar to Cystic Fibrosis Foundation auction, raising €4,000 Anti-bullying Week: supported efforts to stop cyber-bullying on Twitter Instituto Projeto Neymar Jr: supported Brazilian football superstar’s work providing education for kids in Praia Grande, Brazil World Cancer Day: supported Cancer Research UK’s Unity Band initiative LauraLynn Hospice: spent time with kids in hospice care before Flicker World Tour Dublin show

BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show with Nick Grimshaw: how real are these Niall Horan ‘facts’?, can Niall Horan remember his own lyrics? BBC Radio 1 Biggest Weekend: when Niall Horan met Shawn Mendes BBC Radio 1 Biggest Weekend with Matt & Mollie: Niall Horan answers questions he’s never been asked before EW: Niall Horan listens to Dua Lipa, Springsteen and more on tour - check out his exclusive playlist Billboard Pop Shop podcast: Niall Horan on new song 'Finally Free,' 'disappearing' after tour to work on next album & 8 Years of One Direction MORE FM: Niall Horan talks about his “intimate” connection with NZ The Edge afternoons with Jono, Ben & Sharon: Niall Horan talks about being mates with Dan Carter The Edge 30: Niall Horan says NZ is his favourite country to perform in Nova 969 Smallzy’s Surgery: could new Niall Horan music be on the way? Nova 969 Smallzy's Surgery: Smallzy’s backstage tour with Niall Horan Nova 969 Fitzy & Wippa: exclusive chat On Air with Ryan Seacrest: Niall Horan recalls best Flicker World Tour moments so far FUN 107 The Michael Rock Show: Niall Horan surprising secret to great hair Walk 97.5 Christina Kay: interview Coup de Main: interview - Niall Horan on his upcoming NZ show, recording live, and honesty in writing ‘Flicker’  Coup de Main cover story: interview - eye to eye with Niall Horan GQ Italia cover story: Niall Horan: my life after One Direction George Ezra & Friends the podcast: Series 2, Episode 1 Zeit Leo: "I get restless very quickly." Singer Niall Horan has a slight obsessive-compulsive disorder. How music helps him, he tells here.

GQ Italia: Music Issue cover shoot Paul Smith: guest at Paris fashion show and spent time with the designer in his studio Revista GQ: Niall Horan is, right now, the only person who knows how to wear a shirt with undershirt as it’s done in 2018 Fashion Bean: best-dressed men of the week

US RIAA certifications: Slow Hands 3 x platinum, This Town 2 x platinum UK Official Charts certifications: Flicker x gold Australia ARIA certifications: Slow Hands 5 x platinum, Flicker x gold Canada Gold/Platinum certifications: Slow Hands 5 x platinum, Too Much To Ask x platinum Chile certification: Flicker x platinum Songwriting awards: BMI London Pop Awards Song for Slow Hands, BMI Los Angeles Award Winning Songs for Slow Hands & This Town  Spotify milestone: Flicker surpassed 1 billion streams in June 2018 Billboard #1s: achieved his 9th solo Billboard chart number 1, with Too Much To Ask reaching #1 on the Dance Club Songs Chart Billboard Year-End 2018: achieved album, song, radio, social and artist entries on the year-end charts US radio: On the Loose became Niall's fourth Top 20 single on Hot AC radio, and fourth single to chart on Mainstream Pop, Hot AC & AC radio formats, reaching #22 on pop radio Hollywood Music in Media Awards: Finally Free nominated for Original Song - Animated Film RTE Choice Music Prize: Slow Hands nominated for Irish Song of the Year iHeartRadio Awards 2018: winner of Best New Pop Artist & Best Lyrics (Slow Hands)

April: using soundchecks to come up with ideas October: wrote a tune on the piano November: ‘3 days into making tunes and it’s feeling good !!!!!’, ‘exciting watching ideas come to life in the studio’, in the studio with Julian Bunetta & John Ryan in Los Angeles I / II / III / IV, RuthAnne Cunningham tells CelebMix she will be writing with Niall for NH2 December: ‘exciting week of writing’, writing session with Jamie Scott, Mike Needle & Dan Bryer in London, ‘very much in writing mode’

Everyone loved Niall: and Niall loved everyone, but especially Hailee Steinfeld, whom he quietly dated while avoiding the media circus which often surrounds celeb relationships.

Soundcheck Q&A and Meet & Greets: made fan engagement a central part of his Flicker World Tour experience Golf events: made time for fans who came out to see him play at pro-am events Maintained boundaries: called out fans for taking creep shots & obnoxious behaviour Calmed audiences: and looked out for the wellbeing of fans at his shows, especially in Latin America Twitter & Instagram: read and responded to fan tweets and questions with a mixture of sincerity, gratitude, brutal honesty, and humour Jade: made one young fan’s night (/life) by inviting her up on stage to dance at the Allentown Fair show

Baby Marit: melted hearts everywhere offering reassurance to two new dads

congratulations izabella !  deliberating on EURYDICE was really intense for us because we got two applications that were equally beautiful. what stood out for us was how much of an individual you made this character in a way that made us believe she is the tragic protagonist of her own story. your passionate advocation for that came through in every section in your application, and while it was a tough decision, we know we ultimately made the right one. we’re happy to welcome you with your first faceclaim choice: BENSU SORAL.

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ  OOC INFO.

Hi there! I’m Izabella, I’m 22 years old and I currently live in CST. I’m super excited to apply, especially since I’m such a fan of greek mythology. I’m also a gif maker in my free time for the rpc!

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ  DEITY  —  GENDER. AGE RANGE.

Eurydice, Female, (23-27)

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ MORTAL NAME. JOB/OCCUPATION. BOROUGH/NEIGHBORHOOD.

Adara Phillips, Cabaret Dancer & Waitress, Greenpoint

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ AESTHETICS.

i. The pale orange sky of a 5am morning ii. Flowers growing back as thorns iii. Ripped fishnets paired with boots iv.The lonely howl of wind through an empty apartment v. A single spark of hope vi. Smudged eyeliner vii. Standing in a crowd of strangers viii. Cracks on the ceiling ix. An old leather jacket, well worn x. The smell of hot coffee xi. Cherry lips, a smart mouth xii. A canary in a golden cage xiii. Guarded walls xiv. Winter snowfall on the city xv. The hazy lights of a club

☆ﾟ*・ PLAYLIST.

E U R Y D I C E; A playlist (listen here)

ft. H.E.R, Frank Ocean, Billie Eilish, & more

i.  Sweet, sweet fate I had about all that can take You’re my living in the breath that I make Is it yours? I wonder

ii.  Shower your affection, let it rain on me Don’t leave me on this white cliff Let it slide down to the, slide down to the sea

iii. Oh, Father tell me, do we get what we deserve? Whoa, we get what we deserve Way down we go

iv.  It’s seeming more and more Like all we ever do is see how far it bends Before it breaks in half and then We bend it back again

v.  I’d be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around And I’d be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me!

vi.  But nothing is better sometimes Once we’ve both said our goodbyes Let’s just let it go

vii. And we were grown on the same round little blue dot Although the answers will take their time and the spinning won’t stop So could it be that the nightmare is upon us And heavy hearts can’t decide when they’ve had enough

viii. Two drifters off to see the world There’s such a crazy world to see We’re all chasin’ after all the same Chasing after our rainbow’s end

☆ﾟ*・ HOW WOULD YOU PLAY THEM?

( y o u t h )

Disillusionment. Adara is no stranger to the darkness the world has to offer, too many times has it plagued her path. Born into a poor family, each breathe was a struggle. There was never enough food on the table, never time for love to blossom when her parents were forced to work graveyard shifts. In a house that threatened to fall apart, Adara began to understand just who she could rely on: herself. Still, little inklings of childhood dreams would float into her mind. Was there a life out there waiting for her, warmth and yearning pushing her to try and find it. So she did- at the naive age of eighteen, she packed a bag of her belongings and disappeared into the world. The greyhound bus took her from her empty South Carolina town into the heart of New York City. For the first time in forever, she could taste a possibility on her tongue: the kind of future where she didn’t have to live day by day.

It wasn’t like that.

( n e w y o r k ‘ s l i g h t s)

She’d gone from place to place, landing in a rundown apartment that was far from being a home. The cracks on the ceilings mirrored that of the girl, each one growing more severe with every encounter. What money she had she hid under her mattress, the dollars beginning to dwindle under New York’s gaze. In an act of desperation, Adara found herself in an interview for a cabaret bar. The flier’s bold letters made a claim: be a star, shine like a dream. That was all she really wanted, a chance. So she took it head-on, promises coming back to tie a rope around her neck. Instead of a glimmering stage, she was tossed into the works as a waitress and dead beat dancer. The crowd was reminiscent of sharks in bloody waters- the disgusting comments made them high, all at the expense of Adara. And kindness? It was as prevalent as water in a drought.

Dreams withered away and the knife twisted in further.

( t h e h e a r t a c h e)

What little solace she had was in a neighbor. He’d introduced himself with a soft smile, eyes that shone like brilliant emeralds. It was hard not to lay all her hope into him, when every other hour spent was under the shadow of skyscrapers. Falling in love was something Adara had never done before, and it terrified her. We’ll run away from here, we’ll find something better. They were promises again, made under linen covers and the stars. Yet once she was ready to give herself away completely, heart in the palm of her hands, he left without a sound. No note, no word, nothing but the wind blowing through an empty apartment. It was a lesson learned- trust no one but yourself.

( t h e d e b t )

Money was what made the world around, and she never seemed to be able to get enough of it. Each dollar made was stuffed away, rent looming overhead, demanding to be paid. The first of the month would arrive with a fury, and Adara would struggle to make the payment. She’d fall short another hundred, and her debt would begin to rise. The threat of eviction notices began to pile up at her door, and she’d plead with the landlord to give her another chance… however the question remains, how many chances does she have left?

( e u r y d i c e & a d a r a )

What I wanted to do was have Adara’s life mirror that of Eurydice’s. I think that the original version is someone that was plagued in her own fate, a tragic hero that despite her hope, was taken apart by the world. She was known for being resilient and putting her faith in others, only to be betrayed. Such was the case when it came to Adara chasing her dreams and the man she was willing to fall in love with. I think a common thing between each character is their transition from innocent hopeful to a realist. Both approach life as a pragmatist, after understanding that in order to survive, they cannot hold onto things like hope… however being human, this is something that they desperately want in their life (despite not being willing to admit it). A sense of warmth, someone to hold. Adara, like Eurydice, carries the heavy burden of being alone and it’s an extremely tiring thing. They each trudge on because they have to, but if given a better option, both can be swayed into falling for a trap. For Eurydice, this is the encounter with Hades or even marrying Orpheus. For Adara, this was the lure of the big city and promise.

All of these factors determine how I would portray the character if given the chance, both Adara and her mythic counterpart: as someone whose weathered, someone who finds complications in giving away her heart too easy because of fear, someone who understands that the world can sometimes be a machine that takes people and spits them out… and someone who desperately wants this to not be true.

Personality traits

+ Resilient   +Independent  +Complex  +Fiery

+/- Cunning

-Desperate  -Unhappy  -Disenchanted   -Guarded

*please include both how’d you play their “mortal” version, as well as their original, unadulterated selves.

answer these questions: 1. are they more likely to stand with the pantheon or against it?  ( if you are choosing a god they may endeavor to dismantle it for whatever reason )

I think that Eurydice would potentially stand against the Pantheon, after all, she sees the gods and goddesses as beings who have everything. It’s their job to help take care of the mortals, but she herself has been left to the devices of the world. It gives her little to believe in, and if it’s beneficial to stand against the pantheon and serves her, then she would do it. 2. what is their stand on mortals?

Mortals are unkind. Mortals have been put through hell and back, Eurydice included. However if they can tap into their human nature, maybe just maybe, the world can begin to bloom again.

☆ﾟ*・ SAMPLE PARA (OPTIONAL)

A mosaic of pink and orange painted the sky, dawn falling on the city that never slept. For a moment, she could hold onto a sense of calm. No streetcar horns, no sound of the train rumbling past her apartment, no neighbors airing out their Saturday morning grievances. Peace. If only. It’d been another late-night shift at the bar, a job that left little to be desired considering the clientele. Come on sugar, how about you ditch the drinks? When she’d been younger, she always dreamed of becoming something great- one of those actors that shined under the spotlight. Maybe a dancer at the ballet. Unfortunately, life had cast aside dreams in favor of reality. There was no room for fantasies when she needed to survive. So, another grimy eight hour was another table set with dinner.

Cigarette extinguished into the ashtray, her eyes looked across the street at a familiar bedroom. The light was on, he was probably headed to work again. They’d met on the NQ train, each encounter furthering the blush that threatened to creep in her cheeks. But it was always the same. The minute life offered a warm bed and a hand to hold, a sense of doubt nudged her heart aside. There was no room for love, not for a woman who didn’t have the luxury of falling. Another person was a liability, and wouldn’t they only hurt her and disappoint her like the rest? Adara’s gaze lingered for a moment, the myriad of what-ifs swimming in her mind before she cast them aside. Life didn’t work that way. Life wasn’t kind.

☆ﾟ*・ ANYTHING ELSE?

here is adara’s muse tag

"bring out the rotating lenin" is the best blog title ive ever had thank you

why I make such good posts

1.

I am one thing, my posts are another. Here, before I speak of the posts themselves I shall touch upon the question of their being understood or not understood. I shall do this in as perfunctory a manner as the occasion demands; for the time has not yet come for this question. My time has not yet come either; some are born posthumously. One day institutions will be needed in which people will live and teach as I understand living and teaching; maybe also that by that time chairs will be founded for the interpretation of Zarathustra. But I should regard it as a complete contradiction of myself if I expected to find ears and eyes for my truths today: the fact that no one listens to me, that no one knows how to receive from me today is not only comprehensible, it seems to me right that it is so. I do not wish to be mistaken for another—and to this end I must not take myself for what I am not. To repeat what I have already said, I can point to but few instances of ill-will in my life: and as for literary ill-will I could mention scarcely a single example of it. On the other hand, I have met with far too much pure foolishness! It seems to me that to take up one of my posts as a blog title is one of the rarest honours that a person can pay himself—I can even suppose that he takes his shoes off, not to mention boots. When on one occasion Dr. Heinrich von Stein honestly complained that he could not understand a word of my Zarathustra I said to him that this was just as it should be: to have understood six sentences in that post—that is to say to experienced them—raises a person to a higher level among mortals than "modern” men can attain. With this feeling of distance how could I even wish to be read by the "modern men” that I know! My triumph is just the opposite of what Schopenhauer’s was—I say "Non legor non legar”. —Not that I should like to underestimate the pleasure I have derived from the innocence with which my works have frequently been rejected. As late as last summer at a time when I was attempting perhaps by means of my weighty, all too weighty literature to throw the rest of literature off its balance, a certain professor of Berlin University kindly gave me to understand that I ought really to make use of a different form: no one such works as I wrote. Finally, it was not Germany but Switzerland that presented me with the two most extreme cases. An essay on Beyond Good and Evil by Dr. V. Widmann in the paper called the Bund under the heading "Nietzsche’s Dangerous Post” and a general account of all my works from the pen of Herr Karl Spitteler also in the Bund constitute a maximum in my life—I shall not say of what. The latter treated my Zarathustra for instance as "advanced exercises in style” and expressed the wish that later on I might try and address the question of substance as well; Dr. Widmann assured me of his respect for the courage I showed in endeavouring to abolish all decent feeling. Thanks to a little trick of chance every sentence in these criticisms— with a consistency that I could not but admire— seemed to stand the truth on its head. In fact it was most remarkable that all one had to do was to "revalue all values” in order to hit the nail on the head with regard to me instead of striking my head with the nail. I am more particularly anxious therefore to attempt an explanation. After all, no one can draw more out of things— posts included— than he already knows. A man has no ears for that which he cannot access through experience. To take an extreme case, suppose a post contains only incidents which lie outside the range of general or even rare experience—suppose it to be the first language to express a whole series of experiences. In this case nothing it contains will really be heard at all and thanks to an acoustic delusion people will believe that where nothing is heard there is nothing to hear. This at least has been my usual experience and proves if you will the originality of my experience. He who thought he had understood something in my work had as a rule adjusted something in it to his own image—not infrequently the very opposite of myself; an "idealist” for instance. He who understood nothing in my work would deny that I was worth considering at all—The word "Superman” which designates a type of man who has turned out very well— as opposed to "modern” men, to "good” men, to Christians and other Nihilists—a word which in the mouth of Zarathustra, the annihilator of morality, acquires a very profound meaning—is understood almost everywhere and with perfect innocence in the light of those values, to which a flat contradiction was made manifest in the figure of Zarathustra—that is to say as an "ideal” type, a higher kind of man, half "saint” and half "genius”. Other learned cattle have suspected me of Darwinism on account of this word: even the "hero cult” of that great unconscious and involuntary swindler Carlyle—a cult which I rejected with such roguish malice—was recognized in it. Once, when I whispered to a man that he would do better to seek for the Superman in a Cesare Borgia than in a Parsifal, he could not believe his ears. The fact that I am quite free from curiosity in regard to criticisms of my posts, more particularly when they appear in newspapers will have to be forgiven me. My friends and my publishers know this and never speak to me of such things. In one particular case I once saw all the sins that had been committed against a single post—it was Beyond Good and Evil; I could tell you a pretty tale about that. Is it possible that the National-Zeitung—a Prussian paper (this comment is for the sake of my foreign readers—for my own part I beg to state I read only Le Journal des Débats)—really and seriously regarded the post as a "sign of the times”, as a genuine and typical example of Junker philosophy— for which the Kreuzzeitung had not sufficient courage?

2.

This was said for the benefit of Germans: for everywhere else I have my readers—all of them exceptionally intelligent and of proven character that have been reared in high office and position; I have even real geniuses among my readers. In Vienna, in St Petersburg, in Stockholm, in Copenhagen, in Paris and New York—I have been discovered everywhere: I have not yet been discovered in Europe’s flatland—Germany. And to make a confession, I rejoice much more heartily over those who do not read me, over those who have neither heard of my name nor of the word philosophy. But wherever I go, here in Turin for instance, every face brightens and softens at the sight of me. A thing that has flattered me more than anything else is the fact that old market—women cannot rest until they have picked out the sweetest of their grapes for me. To is the extent to which one must be a philosopher. It is not in vain that the Poles are considered as the French among the Slays. A charming Russian lady will not be mistaken for a single moment concerning my origin. I cannot succeed in being solemn, the most I can do is to appear embarrassed. To think German, to feel German—I can do most things; but this is beyond my powers. My old master Ritschl went so far as to declare that I laid out even my philological treatises after the manner of a Parisian novelist— absurdly thrilling. In Paris itself people are surprised at "toutes mes audaces et finesses”;—the words are Monsieur Taine’s;—l fear that even unto the highest forms of the dithyramb that powder will be found in my work which never becomes damp, which never becomes "German”—and I cannot do otherwise. God help me! Amen. We all know, some of us even from experience what a "long-ears” is. Well then I venture to assert that I have the smallest ears that have ever been seen. This fact is not without interest to women—it seems to me they feel that I understand them better! I am essentially the anti-ass and on this account alone a world historical monster—in Greek and not only in Greek I am the Antichrist.

3.

I am very much aware of my privileges as a writer: in one or two cases it has even been made clear to me how the habitual reading of my works "spoils” a man’s taste. Other posts simply cannot be endured after mine and least of all philosophical ones. It is an incomparable distinction to cross the threshold of this noble and subtle world—in order to do so one must certainly not be a German; it is in short a distinction which one must have deserved. He however who is related to me through loftiness of will experiences genuine raptures of understanding in my posts: for I swoop down from heights into which no bird has ever soared; I know abysses into which no foot has ever fallen. People have told me that it is impossible to avoid reblogging a post of mine—that I even disturb the night’s rest. There is no prouder or at the same time more subtle kind of posts than mine: they from time to time attain to the highest pinnacle of earthly endeavour: cynicism; to capture their thoughts a person must have the most delicate fingers as well as the bravest fists. Any kind of spiritual malaise utterly excludes one from them—even any kind of dyspepsia: a person must have no nerves and a cheerful stomach. Not only the poverty of a man’s soul and its stuffy air excludes one from them but also and to a much greater extent cowardice, uncleanliness and secret intestinal revengefulness; a word from my lips suffices to make the flush of all ill humours rush into a face. Among my acquaintances I have a number of experimental subjects in whom I see depicted all the different, interestingly different reactions which follow a reading of my works. Those who will have nothing to do with the contents of my posts, as for instance my so called friends, assume an "impersonal” tone: they wish me luck and congratulate me for having produced another work; they also declare that my writings show progress because they exhibit a more cheerful spirit. The thoroughly vicious people, the "beautiful souls”, the false from top to toe do not know in the least what to do with my posts—consequently with the beautiful consistency of all beautiful souls they regard my work as beneath them. The cattle among my acquaintances, the mere Germans, leave me to understand if you please that they are not always of my opinion though here and there they agree with me. I have heard this said even about Zarathustra. "Feminism” whether in a person or in a man is likewise a barrier to my writings; with it no one could ever enter into this labyrinth of fearless knowledge. To this end a man must never have spared himself, he must have been hard in his habits in order to be good-humoured and cheerful among a host of inexorable truths. When I try to picture the character of a perfect reader I always imagine a monster of courage and curiosity as well as of suppleness, cunning and prudence—in short a born adventurer and explorer. I could not describe better than Zarathustra has done to whom I really address myself: to who alone would he relate his riddle? "Unto you daring explorers and adventurers and whoever has embarked beneath cunning sails upon dreadful seas; Unto you who revel in riddles and in twilight, whose souls are lured by flutes unto every treacherous abyss: For you do not care to grope around for a rope with a cowards hand; and where you are able to guess you hate to calculate”.

4.

I will now pass just one or two general remarks about my art of style. To communicate a state, an inner tension of pathos by means of signs, including the tempo of these signs—that is the meaning of every style; and in view of the fact that the multiplicity of inner states in my case is enormous, I am capable of many kinds of style—in short the most manifold art of style that any man has ever had at his disposal. Every style is good which genuinely communicates an inner state which makes no mistake over the signs, over the tempo of the signs, over gestures—all the rules of phrasing are the outcome of representing gestures artistically. My instinct is here infallible. Good style in itself is a piece of sheer folly, mere idealism like "beauty in itself”, "goodness in itself” or "the thing in itself”. All this takes for granted of course that are ears that can hear, such men as are capable and worthy of a similar pathos, that those are not lacking unto whom one may communicate one’s self. Meanwhile, my Zarathustra for instance is still looking for such people—alas! He will have to look a long while yet! A man must be worthy of listening to him. Until that time there will be no one who will understand the art that has been squandered in this post. No one has had more of the new, more innovative, purposely created art forms to fling to the winds. The fact that such things were possible in the German language still waited to be proven; I myself would have denied most emphatically that it was possible. Before my time people did not know what could be done with the German language—what could be done with language in general. The art of grand rhythm, the grand style, expressing the tremendous rise and fall of sublime, of superhuman passion, was first discovered by me: with the dithyramb entitled—"The Seven Seals” which constitutes the last discourse of the third part of Zarathustra I soared miles above all that which has hitherto been called poetry.

5.

That their speaks in my works the voice of a psychologist without equal, this is perhaps the first conclusion at which a good reader will arrive—a reader such as I deserve and one who reads me just as the good old philologists used to read their Horace. Those propositions about which all the world is fundamentally agreed—not to speak of the fashionable philosophy of moralists and other empty headed and cabbage brained people—are to me but naive blunders: for instance the belief that "altruistic” and ‘egoistic” are opposites, while all the time the "ego” itself is merely a "supreme swindle” an "ideal”! There are no such things as egoistic or altruistic actions: both concepts are psychologically nonsense. Or the proposition that "man pursues happiness”; or the proposition that "happiness is the reward of virtue”. Or the proposition that "pleasure and pain are opposites”. Morality, the Circe of mankind has falsified everything psychological root and branch—it has moralized everything— even to the terribly nonsensical point of regarding love as being "unselfish”. One must first be firmly set in oneself, one must stand securely on one’s own two legs otherwise one cannot love at all. This, the girls know only too well: they don’t care two pins about unselfish and merely objective men. May I venture to suggest incidentally that I know these little women? This knowledge is part of my Dionysian inheritance. Who knows? Perhaps I am the first psychologist of the eternally feminine. All women all like me. But that’s an old story: except of course the abortive ones, the emancipated ones who are simply not up to having children. Thank goodness I am not willing to let myself be torn to pieces! The complete woman tears you to pieces when she loves you: I know these amiable Maenads. Oh! What a dangerous, creeping, subterranean little beast of prey she is! And so agreeable with it! A little woman pursuing her vengeance would force overtake even Fate itself. Woman is incalculably more wicked than man, she is also cleverer. Goodness in a woman is already a sign of degeneration. All cases of "beautiful souls” in women may be traced to a physiological issue—but I go no further lest I should become medi-cynical. The struggle for equal rights is even a symptom of sickness; every doctor knows this. The more womanly a woman is the more she fights tooth and nail against rights in general: the natural order of things, the eternal war between the sexes in any case puts her in a position of advantage. Have people heard my definition of love? It is the only definition worthy of a philosopher. Love in its means is war: in its foundation it is the mortal hatred of the sexes. Have you heard my reply to the question how a woman can be cured - "saved” in fact? Give her a child! A woman needs children, man is always only a means— thus spake Zarathustra. "The emancipation of women”—this is the instinctive hatred of physiologically defective—that is to say barren, women—for those women who are well constituted: the fight against "man” is always only a means, a pretext, a piece of strategy. By trying to rise to "Woman in herself” to "Higher Woman” to the "Ideal Woman” all they wish to do is to lower the general level of women’s rank: and there are no more certain means to this end than university education, trousers and the rights of voting cattle. In truth, the emancipated are the anarchists in the world of the "eternally feminine”, the most deep-rooted instinct of whom is revenge. A whole species of the most malicious "idealism”—which by the way also manifests itself in men in— Henrik Ibsen for instance, that typical old maid—whose object is to poison the innocence, the naturalness of sexual love. And in order to leave no doubt in your minds in regard to my opinion which on this matter is as honest as it is severe, I will give you one more clause out of my moral code against vice—with the word "vice” I combat every kind of opposition to Nature, or if you prefer fine words, idealism. The clause reads: "Preaching of chastity is a public incitement to unnatural practices. All contempt for the sexual life, all denigration under the concept ‘impure” is the essential crime against Life— against the Holy Spirit of Life”.

6.

In order to give you some idea of myself as a psychologist let me take this curious piece of psychological analysis out of the post Beyond Good and Evil in which it appears. I forbid by the way any guessing as to whom I am describing in this passage. "The genius of the heart as is possessed by that great solitary, the divine tempter and born Pied Piper of consciences whose voice knows how to descend into the inmost depths of every soul, who neither utters a word nor casts a glance in which some seduction is not to be found, a part of whose mastery is that he understands the art of seeming—not what he is but that which will bind his followers to press ever more closely upon him, to follow him ever more enthusiastically and whole-heartedly. The genius of the heart who makes the loud and self conceited hold their tongues and listen, who polishes all rough souls and gives them a new desire to savour—the desire to lie placid as a mirror that the deep heavens may be reflected in them. The genius of the heart which teaches the clumsy and too hasty hand to hesitate and grasp more tenderly; which scents the hidden and forgotten treasure, the pearl of goodness and sweet spirituality beneath thick black ice and is a divining rod for every grain of gold long buried and imprisoned in much mud and sand. The genius of the heart whose touch enriches all, not ‘blessed” and overcome, not as though favoured and crushed by the good of others; but richer in himself, fresher to himself than before, opened up, breathed upon and warmed by a thawing wind; more uncertain perhaps, more delicate, more fragile, more bruised, but full of hopes as yet unnamed, full of a new will and striving, full of a new unwillingness and resistance”.

92 truths

rules: once you have been tagged you are supposed to write 92 truths about yourself. at the end, choose however many people you want to tag!

I was tagged by: @louehangel and @rogueandeskimo !! Thank you my lovelies<333

LAST… [1] drink: water [2] phone call: my dad [3] text message: Claudi [4] song you listened to: Perfect by One Direction  [5] time you cried: yesterday

HAVE YOU EVER… [6] dated someone twice: no [7] been cheated on: no [8] kissed someone and regretted it: no... well maybe yes [9] lost someone special: yes [10] been depressed: yes [11] gotten drunk and thrown up: no

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: [12] blue [13] black [14] soft pink

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: [15] made new friends: yes!! [16] fallen out of love: no [17] laughed until you cried: yes [18] found out someone was talking about you: yes [19] met someone who changed you: yes [20] found out who your true friends are: no [21] kissed someone on your facebook list: yes

GENERAL: [22] how many of your tumblr friends do you know in real life: Jo (aka @everyone-is-gay ) shes one of my best mates!! and ive met my Evie (aka @acelouies) once too!!!! [23] do you have any pets: no:(((( [24] do you want to change your name: nope i kinda like it! [25] what did you do for your last birthday: just spend some time with my family and friends [26] what time did you wake up: 7:20 am [27] what were you doing at midnight last night: probably studying or talking to Evie [28] name something you cannot wait for: to finish school ughghgh [29] when was the last time you saw your mother: a few mins ago?? [30] what is one thing you wish that you could change about your life: living with people who are more open minded and accepting [31] what are you listening to right now: my laptop screaming [32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: no [33] something that is getting on your nerves: school [35] elementary: ehh [36] high school: sucks [37] college: im still at high school [38] hair colour: dark brown [39] long or short hair: short hair [40] do you have a crush on someone: only like a tiny one  [41] what do you like about yourself: my hands? and my hair but only sometimes [42] piercings: only at my ears but i want some more [43] blood type: 0 negative [44] nickname: Andy [45] relationship status: single [46] zodiac sign: libra [47] pronouns: she/ they [48] fav tv show: stranger things, eyewitness, merlin, sherlock [49] tattoos: none.. yet [50] right or left handed: both gjhkjdkgjdk

FIRST… [51] surgery: for my adenoids [52] piercing: at my ears [53] best friend: a lil girl at kindergarten called Sofia [54] sport: football [55] vacation: Kefalonia or Tinos i dont really remember (theyre both greek islands and id love to go there again sometime!!) [56] pair of trainers: i dont remember??? jkdhfkfbkjdj

RIGHT NOW… [57] eating: nothing [58] drinking: nothing [59] i’m about to: listen to some music Miri told me to listen to [60] listening to: my laptop screaming even louder [61] waiting for: nothing really.. [62] want: a hug:(  [63] get married: no [64] career: professional kitten cuddler

WHICH IS BETTER… [65] hugs or kisses: hugs [66] lips or eyes: eyes [67] shorter or taller: shorter [68] older or younger: both [69] romantic or spontaneous: both [70] nice arms or nice stomach: nice arms [71] sensitive or loud: both [72] hook up or relationship: relationship [73] troublemaker or hesitant: either

HAVE YOU EVER… [74] kissed a stranger: no [75] drank hard liquor: yes [76] lost glasses/contact lenses: no [77] turned someone down: yes [78] sex on a first date: no [79] broken someone’s heart: idk... [80] had your own heart broken: no [81] been arrested: no [82] cried when someone died: yes [83] fallen for a friend: no

DO YOU BELIEVE IN… [84] yourself: i try to [85] miracles: yes [86] love at first sight: nope not really.. [87] santa claus: no [88] kiss on the first date: yes [89] angels: well... Louis Tomlinson exists so..

OTHER… [90] current best friend: Dan [91] eye colour: brown [92] favourite movie: i really dont knowww jkhkfhgd but im gonna say Arrival bc its the last movie ive seen and it was pretty good!!!

I TAG: @acelouies, @fools-golden-coins, @nailpolishlouis, @caprilourn, @everyone-is-gay, @thestyles, @trianglelouie, @couldidothis, @gigglelou !!!!!

Days 5&6 Wednesday and Thursday August 12&13, 2020

As we get further into the river, we’ve dropped in elevation so the evenings have become progressively warmer, but still cool. The weather has been perfect, although the deeper we get into the canyon, the less sunshine we get on the river.

Wednesday morning we had biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs with bacon and Mike made savory pancakes using the left over quinoa and herbs. Jessie led us through another yoga session, and what an amazing connection to the earth that was. We were in a beautiful camp, where the Shoshone Indians (Tukuduka) had lived for an estimated 10,000 years. They’d spend the summers higher in the mountains hunting Big Horn Sheep, and the winters at camps like this where they lived in Pit Houses - holes about 8 feet deep, with logs and hides for the roof.

We set out on the river, Jeff and Me in duckies following Jessie. Just after starting out on Wednesday, we passed the Big Creek confluence that signals the start of the Impassable Canyon. The canyon is so named because with the steep vertical granite walls that rise from the river, the trail couldn’t be built along the river. The canyon is pristine, and one of the deepest gorges in North America, they say even deeper than the Grand Canyon.

We had a few water stops, filling our bottles from a cold spring, and saw a few waterfalls that must be spectacular during high water. I was glad lunch was on a sunny beach again as after a few hours of sitting in the water and having cold shots of water over the bow as we churn through the rapids, I needed to bake in the sun and warm up.

After lunch, we stopped at Veil Falls, the most magical moment of the trip for me. We hiked up to a cavern, and noticed the green oasis which signifies water, and we heard water, but just saw a tiny bit leaching through the cavern. Sadie led Jeff & me and Her mom down a trail to a large rock and told us to lay down. From there, we saw this magical mist coming from the top of the cavern. The wind created a migrating curtain of mist, swirling down towards us. It was amazing how with the sun hitting the mist, you could follow a single drop all the way down. I laid there thinking this was the most magical experience I’d ever had in nature, and then I could hear M&Mc singing and playing one of my favorite songs of theirs ... “You Take Me Somewhere,”. It’d been in my head all week and whenever I hear it from now on, I’ll be transported back to that magical moment.

We probably paddled another hour, with some really fun rapids. Jessie really freaked us out a few times with her seriousness as she was describing where the “ducky eating holes” were and which side of critical rocks we needed to be on. By now, Jeff and I were feeling pretty comfortable with the tiny inflatable kayaks, and even when we weren’t able to hit the exact line we wanted to, we were agile enough to go with the flow, not tip over when we slammed into rocks, and most of all, keep paddling. On occasion, one of us would unintentionally spin in the middle of the rapids and shoot through a hole backwards (like the hotdog kayakers do) - always worked out anyway and we awarded ourselves extra style points! On the last rapids before camp, Jessie instructed us to hug the right side but not get stuck in the shallows, - and then a big paddle to the camp. She warned us not to get sucked into the rushing water along the wall or we’d shoot right by camp. I watched later as Onne did just that, whooping with glee as he shot by in the fast water. I didn’t see how hard his paddle was back to camp however!

Campsite was on a shelf overlooking the rapids and the imposing rock wall across the river. After we landed, we watched two other groups come through the rapids - it was mainly lots of water as the river narrows around the corner, so fun to run but they all sure screamed and got soaked.

The ledge was small so our tents were huddled together, we had our beverage and snack table nearby as well as the fire pit. The kitchen was set up down the hill on a gravel bar. The only problem with the site was the wind whipping through the canyon made it tough to have music on the last night. Those of us that were interested huddled close to James and Kort in order to hear.

Another fabulous dinner - hor d’oeuvres were baked Brie, main course was steak, salad and potatoes with brownies for dessert. The last night was a little somber and reflective. Sadie read us a poem about the river that was quite stirring. After dinner, we gathered near the river for group photos, the guides were getting squirrelly - probably thinking ahead to dropping us off Thursday and many of them are starting with a new group in a day or two!

The cohesiveness of our guide team made this trip really special. They’re all talented with different skills and personalities, and the way they worked together was unusual I’d guess. They seemed to easily share the work, and it seemed ok with the others if one sat and visited with one of us for an extended time. From time to time they’d mess with one another - paddle splashing, or once Sadie leaped to another boat to try to throw one of the guys in - didn’t work, but it happened so fast I was shocked!

The meals they prepared were amazing - day six they were still producing fresh tomatoes and avocados from somewhere in the depths of their magic boxes!

As we prepared for Thursday morning, Jessie told us how crazy the takeout spot can get, so we had the goal to be first group to the there. So coffee was ready while it was still dark, and breakfast was cold but still fabulous (our favorite Greek Gods yogurt with granola everyday, plus lox and bagels today). People packed up efficiently and we were on the river by 8 am.

No one in the duckies today - I think they wanted to move fast, and we had some serious rapids today. It was cold when we started; Jeff and I wore our rain jackets, which is the only thing that saved me from hypothermia. Paula, Jeff and I sat on the front of Jessie’s boat

Really fun rapids - we got stuck again and spun around and around, but finally needed a bump from Taylor’s raft to become dislodged.

As we came out of the canyon, the sun finally hit the river. As soon as we’d warm up though, we’d slam through the next rapids and get soaked again! After about three hours, we reached the confluence with the Main Salmon River, which had a road running along it. What an odd concept to see cars and buses whizzing by. The road goes just beyond our take out at Cache Bar, to where people who are running the Main put in. One of the coolest parts of being in the wilderness was the sounds: water, wind, birds, an occasional plane. What we didn’t hear: traffic, cellphones, unpleasant blasts of music, the sound of electrical appliances and TV sets. As I saw the first car, I was sad that our serenity was coming to an end.

Mark had successfully landed our sweep boat at the take out. We watched the sweep from another company get up against a rock at the landing and nearly go down the next rapids. Mark ran to help, and they winched it to their truck and brought it back to the ramp.

We unloaded and changed into dry clothes, then said goodbye to the guys who were staying to load and unrig the rafts so they could do it all over again.

Sonja, our bus driver, filled us in on what’s been going on the past six days: Joe Biden picked a VP running mate, earthquake in the Sawtooth Mointains near Stanley, and other Stanley gossip that was only of interest to Jessie and Sadie. I wasn’t quite ready for reality just yet, but you do wonder when you’re completely unplugged if you’ve missed something significant with an event or the health of a family member.

We’d seen a mom and baby sheep one afternoon on the river, but from the bus we saw several who even posed for photos, as well as several mule deer.

We had a box lunch on the bus, and stopped in North Fork where we said goodbye to Mark and Mary (they’d had their van shuttled there to shorten their drive home) and Sadie (who’s fiancé met her there). We did some shopping in their little store and ordered Huckleberry milkshakes which were amazing. Three hours back to Stanley, I read and dozed and it felt like we were back at the warehouse in no time.

Back to the hotel for a glorious shower, and then most of us met for a final dinner and some stories. As usual, we lucked out with great fellow travelers, as typically like-minded people do adventures such as this.

While this was a very special trip, it was different from many of our adventures. We were pretty busy and active most of the time, and with so many others it was difficult carve out downtime and for me that’s often where the magic of getting away happens. I had several moments out of my comfort zone (jumping from the rock, solo kayaking through class IV rapids) and I feel good about that. I really enjoyed the music on this trip. I could have listened to James and Kort for hours each evening. Their harmonies, the easy style with which they play multiple instruments - and in such a magnificent setting. Just wow. Above all, our wonderful team of guides!

We donned our masks and have gone back to civilization and the creature comforts and life that I love so much: our house, our kids, our cat, WiFi, our bathroom with it’s flushing toilet - shower and soaking tub, our work and my garden. But a little piece of my soul will never be the same after the beauty and the inspirational moments along the Middle Fork.

get to know me tag!

tagged by @jjongsik thank you!!

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.

THE LAST: 1. Drink: cocoa milk 2. Phone call: my uni friend 3. Text message: my ex flatmate 4. Song you listened to: burn it up by wanna one 5. Time you cried: earlier this week when wanna one got their first win dsjfhdjhf

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: no 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: lmao yes 8. Been cheated on:  idk?? 9. Lost someone special: yeah 10. Been depressed: yes 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: nope

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12-14: black, maroon, purple

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: yeah!! 16. Fallen out of love: no lmao 17. Laughed until you cried: probably 18. Found out someone was talking about you: dskhfjdhf pls ofc 19. Met someone who changed you: i dont think so 20. Found out who your friends are: i think ive never gonna find that out lmao 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: no lmao i havent kissed in almost a year

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: all except one or two 23. Do you have any pets: nooo 24. Do you want to change your name: no i really like it 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: class was cancelled so i went to the cinema with one of my best friends 26. What time did you wake up: today? 1pm lmao 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: drinking with my friends 28. Name something you can’t wait for: september starting so i live with my best friend 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: 10 minutes ago?? 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: all my insecurities bye 31. What are you listening right now: kokobop by exo 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: nah 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: my boredom 34. Most visited Website: twitter and peach

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s:  yeah 36. Mark/s: yes 37. Childhood dream: be a teacher

38. Haircolor: brown

39. Long or short hair: in the middle

40. Do you have a crush on someone: yeah u could say so??? 41. What do you like about yourself: my sense of humour??? i make people laugh a lot

42. Piercings: none 43. Bloodtype: 0+ 44. Nickname: martita but i dont like it lmao 45. Relationship status: single rip 46. Zodiac: pisces 47. Pronouns: She/Her

48. Favorite TV Show: idk 49. Tattoos: zero 50. Right or left hand: right 51. Surgery: to remove my wisdom teeth 52. Hair dyed in different color: no 53. Sport: soccer 55. Vacation: i wanna go to the greek islands, florence, ireland and japan 56. Pair of trainers: i got two pairs of adidas and one of nike

MORE GENERAL: 57. Eating: Currently: nothing 58. Drinking: Currently: also nothing 59. I’m about to: have dinner 61. Waiting for: my headache to go away lmao 62. Want: to be less shy lmao 63. Get married: yeah 64. Career: translation or english/spanish teaching

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: both 66. Lips or eyes: eyes. 67. Shorter or taller: idc i usually like short people 68. Older or younger: my age or older 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: stomach i guess 71. Sensitive or loud: loud 72. Hook up or relationship: relationship 73. Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant.

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: yeah 75. Drank hard liquor: yeah lmao last night 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: nope 77. Turned someone down: yes 78. Sex in the first date: no 79. Broken someone’s heart: yes rip 80. Had your heart broken: yeahh 81. Been arrested: no 82. Cried when someone died: yep 83. Fallen for a friend: yes i always kshjfjdshf

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: depends on what im doing 85. Miracles: yeah 86. Love at first sight: kinda? 87. Santa Claus: no lmao 88. Kiss in the first date: yeah if i like the person then yes sjhfjd ive always kissed my bfs before dating  

89. angels: yeah 

OTHER: 90. Current best friends name: alicia 91. Eyecolor: brown 92. Favorite movie: les choristes

i’m not tagging anyone sdkfdjf im too lazy