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kmelanin · 5 years

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Prince J / seven

a/n: ahhh part sevenn! I dont think this will last more than ten parts. But I hope you like it!

You both walk through the halls. He is slightly longer legs than you, so you fell back a little while walking down the halls. You didn't mind, you got to really take a look at the hallways and the decoration in your new home. The hallways had dark wood in some places, then the support beams were pure black, at least it looked like it. There were random flower pots that were white. The floors were sparkly white. It looked like there was glitter within the floor. In the middle a long black rug that goes all the way down the hall. Every hallway was like this.

Your mind was too focused on how the floor sparkled, that you didn't see Jeongguk stop walking and back up a little smiling at you. He reached down and grabbed your hand, making your head pop up to his.

“Are you hungry?” He asks as you both get to walking at a quicker pace, more like his normal pace. You nod not knowing if your voice would give out. Your heart was beating too fast to fully comprehend that he was holding your hand so firmly. When he asked his question, your mind went right to moments before when you two were so close. So when you answered you weren't thinking about food.

“YN?” He asks making you both stop walking. He tilts his head to make eye contact with you.

“Huh?” You ask back.

“I asked you if you wanted to make ramen?” He smiles a little when he realizes you were zoning out. “What are you thinking about?” He asks biting his lower lip a little and steps a little so that he was in front of you. He brings his right hand up and he grazes it on your cheek. At this point you were wondering how your heart was still even working.

How was this man making you feel like this?

Your cheeks were burning at the honest truth to his question.You didn't know what to say, which made him pull you a little closer to him.

“Tell me…” His hand grasps onto your jaw making look at him, he keep his eye contact. His eyes were soft and gentle and it made your body tingle.

“Um.” You were still stuck. He made you so nervous. You were afraid to say the wrong thing.

“If you want something, just ask. You can have whatever you want.” His voice comes out lower, throwing you off a little. His eyes looked a little different, you couldn't pinpoint it. But then got this weird idea.

Keep him waiting.

“Let go make some ramen Jeongguk.” You smile up at him. His face changed quickly, his eyes got big and bright and he nodded fast. He grabbed your hand again and pulled you the rest of the way to the kitchen.

You were shocked at how big the kitchen was. He started to explain how sometimes the cooks had to make a meal for hundreds of people. It was busy now, getting everything ready for your wedding. It was crazy, everyone here was running around and getting things ready for your wedding. It was so surreal.

Jeongguk lead you through the kitchen and behind a shelve of spices. Behind it was a normal looking kitchen. You were surprised at how at home it felt compared to just a couple feet away. You seen a wood burning oven. In the middle was a island full different ingredients. All sorts of onions and liquids. There were different meats. There was also two pots with two different liquids and noodles boiling on plug in burners.

“Do you like spicy or no?” He asks.

“I like spicy.” You nod. He picks on up and moves it to the full stove off to the side.

“Okay, you can add whatever you want.” He smiles. You get excited because you never been able to do something like this. You look down and you pick up mandu and add. Then shrimp and crack some eggs. You could decide what veggies to add from all of the different choices.

“Mhmm how about some of these.” Jeongguk says pointing at some scallions. You quickly nod agreeing.

“You choose them all.” You say quickly and kind of quietly.

“Mhmm, why?” He asks looking at you, with a small little bunny smile on his face.

“Um, I chose all of the meat, you choose the healthy stuff.” You say not being able to hide the smile forming on your face. He laughs at your words.

“Healthy stuff.” He scoffs with a big smile on his face. You quickly grabs some mushroom and a couple of other things. He then opens a bottle that says fish sauce and pours some in.

“While it's cooking a little longer. You can go to the fridge and pick out something to drink.” He says picking up some chopsticks to pick at the ramen. You nod and walk over. You open it and see so many choices. You easily take out two banana milks and two waters. You walk back over. Jeongguk quickly grabs the water and his eyes widen.

“You like banana milk?” He questions.

“Um, i've never actually tried it. It just looked really good.” You smile setting them down.

“Well you have to try right now!” he quickly pulls the straw off and pokes it through and passes it back to you. You quickly sip, and was almost instantly amazed at how creamy and sweet it was.

“Holy hell.” You mumble and drink more. His smile gets so big, his gums were popping out as he claps a little.

“It’s delicious isn’t it?” He asks taking it back and drinking some out of the container. Your eyes widened when he took the straw that was once in your mouth and puts it in his. His lips were so soft looking and a little pinker from sneaking a bit of the food while you were getting the drinks. You wanted to scream at yourself when your mind went right back to earlier in the theater.

You didn’t realize before it was too late, your milk was gone. He had been just stirring the food and drinking away. You laughed a little on the inside when a little idea popped into your head. You didn’t plan it well enough to know what to do, but you knew you wanted his lips on yours again.

“I thought you gave me that, why did you drink all of it when you could’ve got your own.” you pout just a tad, just enough to have his head snapping toward you. His eyes widened when he looked down and realized himself that he drank all of it. You smiles a little at his cuteness when he looked up and tried to remember drinking all of it.

Then it hit you, he was zoned out thinking about something...it was like drinking the milk was natural to him.

“I’m so sorry… I don’t even-.” He starts but he trails off when you walk forward. His eyes widen again and he looks really nervous when you get so close that you had no choice but to look up. He didn’t even move so he was stuck in the same spot, now with your face inches from his

He was waiting for you to say something, anything to get rid of this slight tension. He was confused to what type of tension though. Were you mad he drank it all or…

“Is it bad that i really want to kiss you and see if you taste like bananas still? Is that too forward?” Your words stunned him for a second. He was shocked at how forward you were.

“You can kiss me whenever you want, these lips are yours.” Jeongguk’s words hit your lips. “Kiss me Yn. I know you’ve been thinking about it.” He blocked you against the counter. His arms are either side of you and he leaned in just a little. He wants you to lean forward, he wants you to start feeling comfortable doing this, he wants your lips on his all of the time and he can’t have that if you are nervous.

Your body was frozen. You weren’t sure if you could do it now. Now they he asked you, and he’s waiting you start to freak. If he wouldn’t just kissed you then, perfect. You were freaking out! What if you kissed his chin?

You lean in just a tad, making him close his eyes. You were moments away from his lips when you stop.

“I think the food is done.” you pull away and smile when his eyes pop open and he looks confused as hell.

He backs away and he laughs a little to himself. He go over to the pot of noodles and he picks up one stick and sticks it in to check. He barely does anything when the stick is tossed back on the counter and his hands grab you.

“Mhmm maybe five more minutes.” He mumbles and his lips are on yours again. One of his arms was now wrapped around your waist pulling yours into his. His other around was around your shoulders and his hand was making sure you would land on his lips perfectly.

Over the next couple of days, both you and Jeongguk had to ‘train’ for your wedding day. You were told that there will will be three dress changes. It will be exhausting but worth it. Tallia has been with you the whole time cheering you on through the fittings and overdone spa treatments. But what really kept you going was the talk she had with you before the first fitting.

“I just wanted to give you a slight reminder. Everything in a Royal family is planned out. I was raised here with my mother, the hairdresser before. I've taken on a role of a guide to you, someone to come to when you are down. I'm here to keep it real for you behind all of the act the world sees. Your wedding is five days from now. On your wedding day it will be exactly three months and one week until his 21st birthday. He can only take the position as the king if he has been a married man for three or more months.” She guides you to the workers hall where her room was. “Just because you both are married doesn't mean you have to be in love. You have the rest of your lifes to try to fall in love with each other. The wedding is for the world to see, to confirm his life training. So please don't stress about rushing it.”

The conversation went on and on, you really felt a connection to her, like she was the mother you longed to have. She really helped your mind calm down a little. You felt like you could love Jeongguk and that scared you because Yoongi was still in the back of your mind.

It was now Friday morning, a day before the wedding and you were trying your best to keep yourself calm.

You got out of the shower and put on a simple outfit that you picked out. Ji-Mee said that you were meeting the bride's maids today. You pulled on some all black skinny jeans with no holes and a off the shoulder blouse that was a soft baby blue. Tallia re-did some of your braids and put on a all black shoulder cut lace wig. Then did your makeup.

Once you were done getting ready you were given a ring to put on. It was a simple silver band. You slipped it on. On the way to the room you were meeting them in Tallia told you about what's going to happen. A stylist was also there and she was there to help you pick out the dresses.

You entered the room and was met with five girls. They all stood up and bowed toward you. One of them in a dress suit stepped forward.

“Hello, I'm Lee Minsoo, I will be helping you choose the colors for the wedding and their dresses. I am sorry to inform you that one girl is missing.” She bows only her head a little. You look over to the girl and you recognize one of them. Maroon dress, from the ball. She had a little bit of a guilt look on her face, you wondered why.

The door slams open from behind you.

“Sorry, I'm late.” You turned around and instantly recognize her as the girl in the blue ball gown from the ball.

“These girls were chosen to be your bridesmaid, but you can tell them to leave at anytime. Now ladies, introduce yourselves.” Minsoo says curtly.

You learned all of their names eventually. They all seemed so nice as you chose what you wanted their dresses to look like. You picked out a pretty royal blue silk fabric. They would each get different versions of a wrap dress that was spaghetti strapped. You also picked out black heels and the jewelry for them to wear. You even had to choose hairstyles.

You felt pretty good about everything as you left before everyone else. You were happy that your bridesmaids were a mix between races to add a little more specialness to your day.

As you were walking down the hall, your name was called out from behind you. When you turned around you seen Amarra, the women that was wearing the blue dress at the ball.

“I just wanted to apologize for being late, I blame Jeongguk.” She says bowing slightly, but smirks towards the end of her words. You almost said it was okay until she mentioned your fiance.

“What?” You say wanting her to repeat herself.

“Yea, I know you probably are confused. But just because you are marrying him, doesn't mean he had to be committed to you and only you.” She has this evil shine in her eye, but she continues to flash off her teeth as she smiled too hard. Then her face changed to a shocked one. “Oh. You didn't know? Well Jeongguk is a grown man, and men have needs. You aren't someone who could satisfy him, I mean please, do you honestly think you could?” She scoffs looking at you up and down.

“Now, don't go run and tell him. Lets keep this between us and I’ll make sure your time here is a decent one.” She giggles a little making you cringe slightly. She then turns around and walks off.

You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Was she serious?

Your heart felt extremely heavy and all you wanted to do was ball up in a ball and cry.

“Miss?” You hear from behind you. You turn around and see Ji-Mee standing behind you. Her eyes widen and soon as she looks at you. “Why are you crying? Did something happen? Tell me, I will report it.” She says walking up to you. She pulls out a travel size pack of tissues out of her apron and she wipes away your tears.

“Thank you. But it's nothing, I swear.” You try to put on your best smile, but you felt too depressed to even think about anything. She frowns, but she nods anyways and she walks you to your room. Once you were in, she bows slightly and leaves shutting the door.

You sigh taking off your shoes and getting into bed. You needed a nap or something to get over this feeling. You knew she was right, the only reason why you were here, is because he needs you to become King.

You clenched your jaw as a thought passed your mind.

Were you falling for him? Already? If you weren't, if you didn't like him in the slightest, you wouldn't feel this ball of jealousy forming in you. You wouldn't want to stomp over to where ever Jeongguk is and demand answers.

You could only really blame yourself, for attaching yourself too fast. You felt yourself finally calm down from crying so much. You hating having this frustration in you. You hated crying.

You head snapped up when there was three loud knocks. You were confused to who it would be at this time. You looked over and noticed that it was almost nine at night. You got up and walk over to the door. You take a deep breath and make sure their wasn't makeup everywhere. You opened the door but made sure to only open it enough to look out. Jeongguk stood there looking at you with his big round eyes, he looks everywhere trying to make sure you were okay.

He always took your breath away. He had on a black turtleneck and some simple framed glasses. His hair was in his natural pin straight style. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbow exposing veins running up his arms. In one ear was a little hoop and in the other one was a silver dangling down

“Let me in.” he whispers looking at you, he catches your eyes for a second until you look away.

“I'm just going to head to bed.” you say softly, giving him a slight smile. You tried to look up at him but you could tell that you would start crying again if you did. ‘Come on pull yourself together.’ you think to yourself. You go to shut the door but his hands come out and hold it open.

“No, I can't let you go to bed upset with me.” He pleads. Ji-Mee had requested to talk to Jeongguk, he was speaking with his father, but she said it was a emergency. She told Jeongguk and his father how she seen one of her bridesmaids walk away and that you were crying. With the castles security system, he was able to watch the cameras. They don't have the audio, but he did know that the bridesmaids were staying in a couple of bedrooms. He had some guards get her and have her explain what happen. But she didn't, instead she gave herself away almost immediately by trying to seduce him.

He gagged at her attempt, wanting to find you right away instead of wasting anymore time. Jeongguk made sure to have her escorted to the cells in the basement. She will soon be dealt with, with attempting to bring down the Royal family.

“I'm not....”

“Then let me in!” He cuts you off. You sighed and moved away from the door. He comes right in and shuts the door. He tries to come towards you but you hold your hand up wanting him to stop. Hurt flashes in his eyes but he stops.

“I don't know Amarra.” He says looking right into your eyes, he gets right to the point. He needs you to know that he’s telling you the truth.

“It's okay Jeongguk, you don't have to explain yourself to me” You look away. Your heart was beating in your ears. You could feel the tension thickening as time ticked by. When you were done with what you had to say, he walked to you so fast, not giving a chance to back away. One of his hands went around your waist and one a little higher, bringing you closer to him. You looked up to him as he looked down at you.

Every time you've found yourself in this position, it seemed like the warmth between you two gets hotter and hotter. You could tell that his breathing got a little heavier and heavier.

“I have worked so hard to get you to be comfortable with me. Why would I ruin this for a random problematic girl right before what I hope to be the best day of my life?” He starts to walk backwards slowly pulling you along towards your bed. You were too out of it to say anything but follow along. His eyes never leave yours as he was able to push you down onto your bed. He makes sure you were comfortable, then he climbs up and straddles you.

“Jeo-” You needed him to calm down, everything was too hot, to much. But you didn't want him to stop. So when he cuts you off with his lips on you, you didn't complain. Instead your hands come up and thread themselves through his soft locks. When he feels your hands on him, he kisses you harder. But when you tug on his hair a little, he pulled away and his hands pulls yours away and pinned them to the bed. He leans back down into your neck leaving you little kisses everywhere. He started from near your collarbone and works his way up. His kisses get sloppier and sloppier and he gets towards your ear. He nibbles on your lobe just a tad before letting it go.

“I won't ruin our future, you should never have to worry about this type of thing.” he then pulls away and looks at you. He lets go of one of your hands to grab your face, he leans down and pecks your lips. “You and I will be husband and wife tomorrow.” his eyes shined with excitement, it caused the next ten seconds of rough kissing. His excited getting the better of him. His glasses were knocked off in the process and his hair looked like he just got the best sex in his life. “You and I will be the next King and Queen. Everyone is below us baby. It's just you and I.”

#Jeon Jeongguk #jungkook #bts #Royal #royal au #ambw #kpop ambw #angst #smut #fluff

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tipsycad147 · 5 years

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The Ten Most Legendary Witches

Faye Sakellaridis

If you look at some of the most legendary witches in history, from the enchantresses of ancient mythic lore to real witches that walked the earth, a pattern emerges: the invocation of the primal. They preside over the the darkness, the moon, death, and rebirth. They collude with the earth through plants and herbs, sometimes to heal and sometimes, yes, to bewitch towards a fatal path. Their dominion is the unknown, the enigmatic, the realms beyond reason and logic. And their sexuality – unbridled and unapologetic – is perhaps their most intimidating quality, one that’s long been institutionally vilified.

Despite centuries of repression, the witch has survived and thrived brilliantly in a myriad of forms. Here are ten badass witchy women, both mythical and real, throughout time.

Hecate, Mother of Darkness

Hecate is the Greek goddess of witchcraft and magic. She rules over the darkness, the moon, and the spirit realm. A guardian of thresholds and liminal spaces, it was she who guided Persephone to and from the underworld. In ancient times, she was believed to protect people from roaming evil spirits, and perform necromancy. She also has a deep knowledge of herbology. Poisons and hallucinogens, such as belladonna, hemlock, mandrake, aconite, and opium poppy, are associated with her. These plants are dangerous and mind-altering, and, like Hecate, are dark and mysterious, bringing the user’s consciousness closer to the spirit world.

Lilith, the First Feminist Goddess

According to Jewish mythology, Lilith was the first woman created by God, before Eve. She was also much maligned as a baby-stealing demon of the night whose dangerously liberated sexuality led men astray. Like Hecate, Lilith is associated with the darkness, the moon, and spirituality. Her refusal to be subservient to Adam got her kicked out of Paradise and forced to have 100 demon babies for each day she didn’t agree to return (she never did). Because of this fierce independence and unapologetic sexuality, Lilith is considered the first feminist goddess.

Morgan le Fay, Legendary Fairy Queen

This legendary fairy queen is a charming and beautiful sorceress that’s featured prominently in the legends of King Arthur. She is connected to the Irish goddess Morrigan, who is associated with war, death, and fertility. Early works featuring Morgan le Fay, such as those by 12th century French poet Chreiten de Troye, portray her as a benign witch and a powerful healer to King Arthur. It’s in the 13th century that her character expands to that of an anti-heroine. She is sent to a coven where she becomes Merlin’s apprentice and lover. She was believed to have extraordinary shapeshifting abilities, transforming into a variety of monstrous and beautiful forms like queen, fairy, crone, and mermaid. Her narrative shift into a devious and manipulative witch is likely fuelled by the Christian prejudice towards a non-religious woman healer with great powers.

Rhiannon, Goddess of Fortitude

In the Welsh myth collection Mabinogi, this beautiful, silver-haired witch riding a white horse symbolises inner fortitude and patience. In Slavic countries, Rhiannon is the goddess of death and rebirth. She is accompanied by the Adar Rhiannon, “Birds of Rhiannon.” These three birds possess magical powers, whose song is said to “wake the dead and lull the living to sleep.” Both her and her birds have an illusory power over their position in time and space. She rides her horse Epona slowly, remaining elusively out of reach, while her birds appear far closer to the eye than they really are.

According to legend, Rhiannon went against her parents wishes and turned away a fairy suitor in favour of a mortal man. After her spurned suitor steals her infant son, she is framed by her nurses for killing her own child. As punishment, she is forced to wear a horse collar and cary visitors on he back to and from the castle. Rhiannon serves her punishment with quiet grace until she is redeemed 4 years later. Her story calls to our own inner reservoirs of endurance and strength, and reminds us to trust in the balance of the universe.

Marie Laveau, the New Orleans Queen of Voodoo

In 19th century Louisiana, Marie Laveau was known as the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans. Her skills with voodoo, magic, and medicinal herbs were highly revered and sought after by white and black clients alike, all desperate to be granted their specific wishes. After her first husband, a Haitian immigrant named Jacques Paris, passed away under mysterious circumstances, she became a hairdresser with a wealthy white clientele. They say her network of informants planted in those households granted her the illusion of omniscience, cementing the perception of her as a magical, all-knowing witch. She was also said to have a snake, named Zombi after an African god, that she would wrap around her and dance with. People still visit her grave today to pray and leave gifts in the hope that she’ll aid them from the afterlife.

Circe, the Herbal Sorceress

This powerful Greek sorceress was said to be a master specialist of magical herbs and potions, and is often depicted with a magic wand or staff. She has a penchant for turning men into animals, most infamously portrayed in Homer’s epic tale The Odyssey, where she invited Odysseus’s companions to a feast, laced their meal and turned them into pigs. Only through the help of Hermes could Odysseus evade her snares, get into her good graces, and turn his shipmates back into human form. She even has a plant named after her — Circaea, also known as the Enchanter’s nightshade — which botanists in the 16th century believe Circe used to charm and lure in her victims.

Dion Fortune, Pioneer of Modern Magic

Dion Fortune is one of the most influential figures in the birth of modern witchcraft, and a pioneer of modern magic. She was a British occultist, Christian Qabalist, theosophist, ceremonial magician, and co-founder of the mystery school Fraternity of Inner Light. She discovered occultism while working as a Freudian analyst, and joined the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. After becoming disillusioned with it, she went on to establish her own esoteric order. In her lifetime, Fortune completed seven occult and fantasy-themed novels which initiated readers into the occult by communicating with their subconscious. These novels, particularly “The Sea Priestess” and “Moon Magic” influenced groups like Wicca, a contemporary Pagan new religious movement.

Jezebel, the Ultimate Bible Bad Girl

Jezebel is the ultimate bad girl of the bible. Her name is synonymous with cunning, idolatry, and evil. She was born to Ethbaal of Tyre, king of the Phoenicians, who were said to worship many multiple gods and goddesses, particularly to the nature god Baal. When Jezebel became queen of Israel after marrying King Ahab, her polytheistic upbringing and rejection of Yahweh earned her many enemies. She is portrayed as a cruel and evil blaspheming woman that persecuted the followers of Yahweh. Most infamously, she condemned the commoner Naboth to death for not giving land to King Ahab, which he refused on the basis of Jewish law. After King Ahab died, the new king of Israel, Jehu, ordered Jezebel’s servants to throw her from a window. Her body was then trampled by Jehu’s horse and fed to stray dogs. Despite her gruesome demise, she made it a point to go out in style. Anticipating her execution, Jezebel got all dolled up, dressing in her best finery and painting her face.

Baba Yaga, the Crone of the Woods

This formidably hideous witch of Slavic folklore is a wild crone that turns the grandmother archetype on its head. She rides around on a mortar wielding a pestle, and lives deep in the forest within a hut fenced by skulls and made mobile by large spindly chicken legs. This witch is unabashedly horrifying – her frenzied, wind-rattled movement is accompanied by bloodcurdling shrieks and the howling of spirits. Despite all this, her morality is ambiguous. She’s been known to aid the valorous hero on his quest, and cook and devour a less fortunate soul.

Salem Witches, America’s Most Infamous Witch Hunt

In 1692, the daughter of Reverend Samuel Parris and two other girls began having “fits” – screaming, throwing things, contortions, and uttering strange sounds. They blamed these episodes on three women who were outcasts of society: a slave, a beggar, and a poor elderly woman. Tituba, the slave, confessed to dealings with the Devil. Mass hysteria took over — more than 200 people were accused of witchcraft in colonial Massachusetts over the next year, and 20 were executed (14 were women). Many of the accused were women who threatened traditional Puritanical values in some way, whether they could control it or not. They included women who were outspoken or argumentative, had sex out of wedlock, were deemed too fertile (or too little), or broke any rule in the Bible. They also included the very old or very young, the very rich or very poor, unnatural physical markings on the skin, and midwives. While the colony eventually admitted the trial was a mistake, the incident has become synonymous with paranoid and unjust accusations.

Honouring our Legendary Witches

This range of incredible women resonates with historian Laurel Thatcher Urach’s keen observation that “well-behaved women seldom make history.” From the shape-shifting seductress to the pioneer of modern magic, these extraordinary ladies made their indelible mark by stepping out of the status quo. And many were, unfortunately, punished harshly for their refusal to conform to a restrictive and oppressive paradigm. Nonetheless, the witch persists throughout these cultural trials, and the witch is on the rise as women today are claiming the archetype as a symbol of empowerment more passionately than ever.

https://wisdom.thealchemistskitchen.com/the-ten-most-legendary-witches/

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imbicuriousyeah · 6 years

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princess bride: chapter three

pairing: Jiyong/reader

genre: angst/drama/fantasy

word count: 11.5k

The great square of Florin city was filled as never before, awaiting the introduction of Prince Seungri’s bride-to-be, Princess Y/N of Meath. The crowd had begun forming some forty hours earlier, but up to twenty-four hours before, there were still fewer than one thousand. But then, as the moment of introduction grew nearer, from across the country the people came. None had ever seen the Princess, but rumors of your beauty were continual and each was less possible than the one before.

At noontime, Prince Seungri appeared at the balcony of his father’s castle and raised his arms. The crowd, which by now was at the danger size, slowly quieted. There were stories that the King was dying, that he was already dead, that he had been dead long since, that he was fine.

“My people, my beloveds, from whom we draw our strength, today is a day of greeting. As you must have heard, my honored father’s health is not what it once was. He is, of course, ninety-seven, so who can ask more. As you also know, Florin needs a male heir.”

The crowd began to stir now—it was to be this lady they had heard so much about.

“In three months, our country celebrates its five hundredth anniversary. To celebrate that celebration, I shall, on that sundown, take for my wife the Princess Y/N of Meath. You do not know her yet. But you will meet her now,” and he made a sweeping gesture and the balcony doors swung open and you moved out beside him on the balcony.

And the crowd, quite literally, gasped.

The twenty-one-year-old Princess far surpassed the eighteen-year-old mourner. Your figure faults were gone, the too bony elbow having fleshed out nicely; the opposite pudgy wrist could not have been trimmer. Your hair, which was once the color of autumn, was still the color of autumn, except that before, you had tended it yourself, whereas now you had five full-time hairdressers who managed things for you. (This was long after hairdressers; in truth, ever since there have been women, there have been hairdressers, Adam being the first, though the King James scholars do their very best to muddy this point.) Your skin was still wintry cream, but now, with two handmaidens assigned to each appendage and four for the rest of you, it actually, in certain lights, seemed to provide you with a gentle, continually shimmering as you moved, glow.

Prince Seungri took your hand and held it high and the crowd cheered. “That’s enough, mustn’t risk overexposure,” the Prince said, and he started back in toward the castle.

“They have waited, some of them, so long,” you answered. “I would like to walk among them.”

“We do not walk among commoners unless it is unavoidable,” the Prince said.

“I have known more than a few commoners in my time,” you told him. “They will not, I think, harm me.”

And with that you left the balcony, reappeared a moment later on the great steps of the castle and, quite alone, walked open-armed down into the crowd.

Wherever you went, the people parted. You crossed and recrossed the Great Square and always, ahead of you, the people swept apart to let you pass. You continued, moving slowly and smiling, alone, like some land messiah.

Most of the people there would never forget that day. None of them, of course, had ever been so close to perfection, and the great majority adored you instantly. There were, to be sure, some who, while admitting you were pleasing enough, were withholding judgment as to your quality as a queen. And, of course, there were some more who were frankly jealous. Very few of them hated you.

And only three of them were planning to murder you.

You, naturally, knew none of this. You were smiling, and when people wanted to touch your gown, well, let them, and when they wanted to brush their skin against yours, well, let them do that too. You had studied hard to do things royally, and you wanted very much to succeed, so you kept your posture erect and your smile gentle, and that your death was so close would have only made you laugh, if someone had told you. But—

—in the farthest corner of the Great Square—

—in the highest building in the land—

—deep in the deepest shadow—

—the man in black stood waiting.

His boots were black and leather. His pants were black and his shirt. His mask was black, blacker than raven. But blackest of all were his flashing eyes.

Flashing and cruel and deadly…

You were more than a little weary after your triumph. The touching of the crowds had exhausted you, so you rested a bit, and then, toward midafternoon, you changed into your riding clothes and went to fetch Horse. This was the one aspect of your life that had not changed in the years preceding. You still loved to ride, and every afternoon, weather permitting or not, you rode alone for several hours in the wild land beyond the castle.

You did your best thinking then.

Not that your best thinking ever expanded horizons. Still, you told yourself, you were not a dummy either, so as long as you kept your thoughts to yourself, well, where was the harm?

As you rode through woods and streams and heather, your brain was awhirl. The walk through the crowds had moved you, and in a way most strange. For even though you had done nothing for three years now but train to be a princess and a queen, today was the first day you actually understood that it was all soon to be a reality.

And I just don’t like Seungri, you thought. It’s not that I hate him or anything. I just never see him; he’s always off someplace or playing in the Zoo of Death.

To your way of thinking, there were two main problems: (1) was it wrong to marry without like, and (2) if it was, was it too late to do anything about it.

The answers, to your way of thinking, as you rode along, were: (1) no and (2) yes.

It wasn’t wrong to marry someone you didn’t like, it just wasn’t right either. If the whole world did it, that wouldn’t be so great, what with everybody kind of grunting at everybody else as the years went by. But, of course, not everybody did it; so forget about that. The answer to (2) was even easier: you had given your word you would marry; that would have to be enough. True, he had told you quite honestly that if you said “no” he would have to have you disposed of, in order to keep respect for the Crown at its proper level; still, you could have, had you so chosen, said “no.”

Everyone had told you, since you became a princess-in-training, that you was very likely the most beautiful woman in the world. Now you were going to be the richest and most powerful as well.

Don’t expect too much from life, you told herself as you rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.

Dusk was closing in when you crested the hill. You were perhaps half an hour from the castle, and your daily ride was three-quarters done. Suddenly you reined Horse, for standing in the dimness beyond was the strangest trio you had ever seen.

The man in front was dark, Sicilian perhaps, with the gentlest face, almost angelic. He moved forward toward you with surprising speed and nimbleness. The other two remained rooted. The second, also dark, probably from Busan, was as erect and slender as the blade of steel that was attached to his side. The third man, mustachioed, perhaps a Turk, was easily the biggest human being you had ever ever seen.

“A word?” the Sicilian said, raising his arms. His smile was more angelic than his face.

You halted. “Speak.”

“We are but poor circus performers,” the Sicilian explained. “It is dark and we are lost. We were told there was a village nearby that might enjoy our skills.”

“You were misinformed,” you told him. “There is no one, not for many miles.”

“Then there will be no one to hear you scream,” the Sicilian said, and he jumped with frightening agility toward your face.

That was all that you remembered. Perhaps you did scream, but if you did it was more from terror than anything else, because certainly there was no pain. His hands expertly touched places on your neck, and unconsciousness came.

You awoke to the lapping of water.

You were wrapped in a blanket and the giant Turk was putting you in the bottom of a boat. For a moment you were about to talk, but then when they began talking, you thought it better to listen. And after you had listened for a moment, it got harder and harder to hear. Because of the terrible pounding of your heart.

“I think you should kill her now,” the Turk said.

“The less you think, the happier I’ll be,” the Sicilian answered.

There was the sound of ripping cloth.

“What is that?” the Korean asked.

“The same as I attached to her saddle,” the Sicilian replied. “Fabric from the uniform of an officer of Guilder.”

“I still think—” the Turk began.

“She must be found dead on the Guilder frontier or we will not be paid the remainder of our fee. Is that clear enough for you?”

“I just feel better when I know what’s going on, that’s all,” the Turk mumbled. “People are always thinking I’m so stupid because I’m big and strong and sometimes drool a little when I get excited.”

“The reason people think you’re so stupid,” the Sicilian said, “is because you are so stupid. It has nothing to do with your drooling.”

There came the sound of a flapping of sail. “Watch your heads,” the Korean cautioned, and then the boat was moving. “The people of Florin will not take her death well, I shouldn’t think. She has become beloved.”

“There will be war,” the Sicilian agreed. “We have been paid to start it. It’s a fine line of work to be expert in. If we do this perfectly, there will be a continual demand for our services.”

“Well I don’t like it all that much,” the Korean said. “Frankly, I wish you had refused.”

“The offer was too high.”

“I don’t like killing a girl,” the Korean said.

“God does it all the time; if it doesn’t bother Him, don’t let it worry you.”

Through all this, you had not moved.

The Korean said, “Let’s just tell her we’re taking her away for ransom.”

The Turk agreed. “She’s so beautiful and she’d go all crazy if she knew.”

“She knows already,” the Sicilian said. “She’s been awake for every word of this.”

You lay under the blanket, not moving. How could he have known that, you wondered.

“How can you be sure?” the Korean asked.

“The Sicilian senses all,” the Sicilian said.

Conceited, you thought.

“Yes, very conceited,” the Sicilian said.

He must be a mind reader, you thought.

“Are you giving it full sail?” the Sicilian said.

“As much as is safe,” the Korean answered from the tiller.

“We have an hour on them, so no risks yet. It will take her horse perhaps twenty-seven minutes to reach the castle, a few minutes more for them to figure out what happened and, since we left an obvious trail, they should be after us within an hour. We should reach the Cliffs in fifteen minutes more and, with any luck at all, the Guilder frontier at dawn, when she dies. Her body should be quite warm when the Prince reaches her mutilated form. I only wish we could stay for his grief—it should be Homeric.”

Why does he let me know his plans, you wondered.

“You are going back to sleep now, my lady,” the Korean said, and his fingers suddenly were touching your temple, your shoulder, your neck, and you were unconscious again…

You did not know how long you were out, but they were still in the boat when you blinked, the blanket shielding you. And this time, without daring to think—the Sicilian would have known it somehow—you threw the blanket aside and dove deep into Florin Channel.

You stayed under for as long as you dared and then surfaced, starting to swim across the moonless water with every ounce of strength remaining to you. Behind you in the darkness there were cries.

“Go in, go in!” from the Sicilian.

“I only dog paddle,” from the Turk.

“You’re better than I am,” from the Korean.

You continued to leave them behind you. Your arms ached from effort but you gave them no rest. Your legs kicked and your heart pounded.

“I can hear her kicking,” the Sicilian said. “Veer left.”

You went into your breast stroke, silently swimming away.

“Where is she?” shrieked the Sicilian.

“The sharks will get her, don’t worry,” cautioned the Korean.

Oh dear, I wish you hadn’t mentioned that, you thought.

“Princess,” the Sicilian called, “do you know what happens to sharks when they smell blood in the water? They go mad. There is no controlling their wildness. They rip and shred and chew and devour, and I’m in a boat, Princess, and there isn’t any blood in the water now, so we’re both quite safe, but there is a knife in my hand, my lady, and if you don’t come back I’ll cut my arms and I’ll cut my legs and I’ll catch the blood in a cup and I’ll fling it as far as I can and sharks can smell blood in the water for miles and you won’t be beautiful for long.”

You hesitated, silently treading water. Around you now, although it was surely your imagination, you seemed to be hearing the swish of giant tails.

“Come back and come back now. There will be no other warning.”

You thought, If I come back, they’ll kill me anyway, so what’s the difference?

“The difference is—”

There he goes doing that again, you thought. He really is a mind reader.

“—if you come back now,” the Sicilian went on, “I give you my word as a gentleman and assassin that you will die totally without pain. I assure you, you will get no such promise from the sharks.”

The fish sounds in the night were closer now.

You began to tremble with fear. You were terribly ashamed of herself but there it was. You only wished you could see for a minute if there really were sharks and if he really would cut himself.

The Sicilian winced out loud.

“He just cut his arm, lady,” the Turk called out. “He’s catching the blood in a cup now. There must be a half-inch of blood on the bottom.”

The Sicilian winced again.

“He cut his leg this time,” the Turk went on. “The cup’s getting full.”

I don’t believe them, you thought. There are no sharks in the water and there is no blood in his cup.

“My arm is back to throw,” the Sicilian said. “Call out your location or not, the choice is yours.”

I’m not making a peep, you decided.

“Farewell,” from the Sicilian.

There was the splashing sound of liquid landing on liquid.

Then there came a pause.

Then the sharks went mad. All around you, you could hear them beeping and screaming and thrashing their mighty tails. Nothing can save me, you realized. I’m a dead cookie.

Fortunately for all concerned save the sharks, it was around this time that the moon came out.

“There she is,” shouted the Sicilian, and like lightning the Korean turned the boat and as the boat drew close the Turk reached out a giant arm and then you were back in the safety of your murderers while all around them the sharks bumped each other in wild frustration.

“Keep her warm,” the Korean said from the tiller, tossing his cloak to the Turk.

“Don’t catch cold,” the Turk said, wrapping you into the cloak’s folds.

“It doesn’t seem to matter all that much,” you answered, “seeing you’re killing me at dawn.”

“He’ll do the actual work,” the Turk said, indicating the Sicilian, who was wrapping cloth around his cuts. “We’ll just hold you.”

“Hold your stupid tongue,” the Sicilian commanded.

The Turk immediately hushed.

“I don’t think he’s so stupid,” you said. “And I don’t think you’re so smart either, with all your throwing blood in the water. That’s not what I would call grade-A thinking.”

“It worked, didn’t it? You’re back, aren’t you?” The Sicilian crossed toward her. “Once women are sufficiently frightened, they scream.”

“But I didn’t scream; the moon came out,” answered Y/N somewhat triumphantly.

The Sicilian struck her.

“Enough of that,” the Turk said then.

The Sicilian looked dead at the giant. “Do you want to fight me? I don’t think you do.”

“No, sir,” the Turk mumbled. “No. But don’t use force. Please. Force is mine. Strike me if you feel the need. I won’t care.”

The Sicilian returned to the other side of the boat. “She would have screamed,” he said. “She was about to cry out. My plan was ideal as all my plans are ideal. It was the moon’s ill timing that robbed me of perfection.” He scowled unforgivingly at the yellow wedge above them. Then he stared ahead. “There!” The Sicilian pointed. “The Cliffs of Insanity.”

And there they were. Rising straight and sheer from the water, a thousand feet into the night. They provided the most direct route between Florin and Guilder, but no one ever used them, sailing instead the long way, many miles around. Not that the Cliffs were impossible to scale; two men were known to have climbed them in the last century alone.

“Sail straight for the steepest part,” the Sicilian commanded.

The Korean said, “I was.”

You did not understand. Going up the Cliffs could hardly be done, you thought; and no one had ever mentioned secret passages through them. Yet here they were, sailing closer and closer to the mighty rocks, now surely less than a quarter-mile away.

For the first time the Sicilian allowed himself a smile. “All is well. I was afraid your little jaunt in the water was going to cost me too much time. I had allowed an hour of safety. There must still be fifty minutes of it left. We are miles ahead of anybody and safe, safe, safe.”

“No one could be following us yet?” the Korean asked.

“No one,” the Sicilian assured him. “It would be inconceivable.”

“Absolutely inconceivable?”

“Absolutely, totally, and, in all other ways, inconceivable,” the Sicilian reassured him. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” the Korean replied. “It’s only that I just happened to look back and something’s there.”

They all whirled.

Something was indeed there. Less than a mile behind them across the moonlight was another sailing boat, small, painted what looked like black, with a giant sail that billowed black in the night, and a single man at the tiller. A man in black.

The Korean looked at the Sicilian. “It must just be some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise alone at night through shark-infested waters.”

“There is probably a more logical explanation,” the Sicilian said. “But since no one in Guilder could know yet what we’ve done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so quickly, he is definitely not, however much it may look like it, following us. It is coincidence and nothing more.”

“He’s gaining on us,” the Turk said.

“That is also inconceivable,” the Sicilian said. “Before I stole this boat we’re in, I made many inquiries as to what was the fastest ship on all of Florin Channel and everyone agreed it was this one.”

“You’re right,” the Turk agreed, staring back. “He isn’t gaining on us. He’s just getting closer, that’s all.”

“It is the angle we’re looking from and nothing more,” said the Sicilian.

You could not take your eyes from the great black sail. Surely the three men you were with frightened her. But somehow, for reasons you could never begin to explain, the man in black frightened you more.

“All right, look sharp,” the Sicilian said then, just a drop of edginess in his voice.

The Cliffs of Insanity were very close now.

The Korean maneuvered the craft expertly, which was not easy, and the waves were rolling in toward the rocks now and the spray was blinding. You shielded your eyes and put your head straight back, staring up into the darkness toward the top, which seemed shrouded and out of reach.

Then the Sicilian bounded forward, and as the ship reached the cliff face, he jumped up and suddenly there was a rope in his hand.

You stared in silent astonishment. The rope, thick and strong, seemed to travel all the way up the Cliffs. As you watched, the Sicilian pulled at the rope again and again and it held firm. It was attached to something at the top—a giant rock, a towY/Ng tree, something.

“Fast now,” the Sicilian ordered. “If he is following us, which of course is not within the realm of human experience, but if he is, we’ve got to reach the top and cut the rope off before he can climb up after us.”

“Climb?” You said. “I would never be able to—”

“Hush!” the Sicilian ordered you. “Get ready!” he ordered the Korean. “Sink it,” he ordered the Turk.

And then everyone got busy. The Korean took a rope, tied your hands and feet. The Turk raised a great leg and stomped down at the center of the boat, which gave way immediately and began to sink. Then the Turk went to the rope and took it in his hands.

“Load me,” the Turk said.

The Korean lifted you and draped your body around the Turk’s shoulders. Then he tied himself to the Turk’s waist. Then the Sicilian hopped, clung to the Turk’s neck.

“All aboard,” the Sicilian said. (This was before trains, but the expression comes originally from carpenters loading lumber, and this was well after carpenters.)

With that the Turk began to climb. It was at least a thousand feet and he was carrying the three, but he was not worried. When it came to power, nothing worried him. When it came to reading, he got knots in the middle of his stomach, and when it came to writing, he broke out in a cold sweat, and when addition was mentioned or, worse, long division, he always changed the subject right away.

But strength had never been his enemy. He could take the kick of a horse on his chest and not fall backward. He could take a hundred-pound flour sack between his legs and scissor it open without thinking. He had once held an elephant aloft using only the muscles in his back.

But his real might lay in his arms. There had never, not in a thousand years, been arms to match Jungkook’s. (For that was his name.) The arms were not only gargantuan and totally obedient and surprisingly quick, but they were also, and this is why he never worried, tireless. If you gave him an ax and told him to chop down a forest, his legs might give out from having to support so much weight for so long, or the ax might shatter from the punishment of killing so many trees, but Jungkook’s arms would be as fresh tomorrow as today.

And so, even with the Sicilian on his neck and the Princess around his shoulders and the Korean at his waist, Jungkook did not feel in the least bit put upon. He was actually quite happy, because it was only when he was requested to use his might that he felt he wasn’t a bother to everybody.

Up he climbed, arm over arm, arm over arm, two hundred feet now above the water, eight hundred feet now to go.

More than any of them, the Sicilian was afraid of heights. All of his nightmares, and they were never far from him when he slept, dealt with falling. So this terrifying ascension was most difficult for him, perched as he was on the neck of the giant. Or should have been most difficult.

But he would not allow it.

From the beginning, when as a child he realized his body would never conquer worlds, he relied on his mind. He trained it, fought it, brought it to heel. So now, three hundred feet in the night and rising higher, while he should have been trembling, he was not.

Instead he was thinking of the man in black.

There was no way anyone could have been quick enough to follow them. And yet from some devil’s world that billowing black sail had appeared. How? How? The Sicilian flogged his mind to find an answer, but he found only failure. In wild frustration he took a deep breath and, in spite of his terrible fears, he looked back down toward the dark water.

The man in black was still there, sailing like lightning toward the Cliffs. He could not have been more than a quarter-mile from them now.

“Faster!” the Sicilian commanded.

“I’m sorry,” the Turk answered meekly. “I thought I was going faster.”

“Lazy, lazy,” spurred the Sicilian.

“I’ll never improve,” the Turk answered, but his arms began to move faster than before. “I cannot see too well because your feet are locked around my face,” he went on, “so could you tell me please if we’re halfway yet?”

“A little over, I should think,” said the Korean from his position around the giant’s waist. “You’re doing wonderfully, Jungkook.”

“Thank you,” said the giant.

“And he’s closing on the Cliffs,” added the Korean.

No one had to ask who “he” was.

Six hundred feet now. The arms continued to pull, over and over. Six hundred and twenty feet. Six hundred and fifty. Now faster than ever. Seven hundred.

“He’s left his boat behind,” the Korean said. “He’s jumped onto our rope. He’s starting up after us.”

“I can feel him,” Jungkook said. “His body weight on the rope.”

“He’ll never catch up!” the Sicilian cried. “Inconceivable!”

“You keep using that word!” the Korean snapped. “I don’t think it means what you think it does.”

“How fast is he at climbing?” Jungkook said.

“I’m frightened,” was the Korean’s reply.

The Sicilian gathered his courage again and looked down.

The man in black seemed almost to be flying. Already he had cut their lead a hundred feet. Perhaps more.

“I thought you were supposed to be so strong!” the Sicilian shouted. “I thought you were this great mighty thing and yet he gains.”

“I’m carrying three people,” Jungkook explained. “He has only himself and—”

“Excuses are the refuge of cowards,” the Sicilian interrupted. He looked down again. The man in black had gained another hundred feet. He looked up now. The cliff tops were beginning to come into view. Perhaps a hundred and fifty feet more and they were safe.

Tied hand and foot, sick with fear, you weren’t sure what you wanted to happen. Except this much you knew: you didn’t want to go through anything like it again.

“Fly, Jungkook!” the Sicilian screamed. “A hundred feet to go.”

Jungkook flew. He cleared his mind of everything but ropes and arms and fingers, and his arms pulled and his fingers gripped and the rope held taut and-

“He’s over halfway,” the Korean said.

“Halfway to doom is where he is,” the Sicilian said. “We’re fifty feet from safety, and once we’re there and I untie the rope…” He allowed himself to laugh.

Forty feet.

Jungkook pulled.

Twenty.

Ten.

It was over. Jungkook had done it. They had reached the top of the Cliffs, and first the Sicilian jumped off and then the Turk removed the Princess, and as the Korean untied himself, he looked back over the Cliffs.

The man in black was no more than three hundred feet away.

“It seems a shame,” the Turk said, looking down alongside the Korean. “Such a climber deserves better than—” He stopped talking then.

The Sicilian had untied the rope from its knots around an oak. The rope seemed almost alive, the greatest of all water serpents heading at last for home. It whipped across the cliff tops, spiraled into the moonlit Channel.

The Sicilian was roaring now, and he kept at it until the Korean said, “He did it.”

“Did what?” The Sicilian came scurrying to the cliff edge.

“Released the rope in time,” the Korean said. “See?” He pointed down.

The man in black was hanging in space, clinging to the sheer rock face, seven hundred feet above the water.

The Sicilian watched, fascinated. “You know,” he said, “since I’ve made a study of death and dying and am a great expert, it might interest you to know that he will be dead long before he hits the water. The fall will do it, not the crash.”

The man in black dangled helpless in space, clinging to the Cliffs with both hands.

“Oh, how rude we’re being,” the Sicilian said then, turning to you. “I’m sure you’d like to watch.” He went to you and brought you, still tied hand and foot, so that you could watch the final pathetic struggle of the man in black three hundred feet below.

You closed your eyes, turned away.

“Shouldn’t we be going?” the Korean asked. “I thought you were telling us how important time was.”

“It is, it is,” the Sicilian nodded. “But I just can’t miss a death like this. If I could stage one of these every week and sell tickets, I could get out of the assassination business entirely. Look at him—do you think his life is passing before his eyes? That’s what the books say.”

“He has very strong arms,” Jungkook commented. “To hold on so long.”

“He can’t hold on much longer,” the Sicilian said. “He has to fall soon.”

It was at that moment that the man in black began to climb. Not quickly, of course. And not without great effort. But still, there was no doubt that he was, in spite of the sheerness of the Cliffs, heading in an upward direction.

“Inconceivable!” the Sicilian cried.

The Korean whirled on him. “Stop saying that word. It was inconceivable that anyone could follow us, but when we looked behind, there was the man in black. It was inconceivable that anyone could sail as fast as we could sail, and yet he gained on us. Now this too is inconceivable, but look—look—” and the Korean pointed down through the night. “See how he rises.”

The man in black was, indeed, rising. Somehow, in some almost miraculous way, his fingers were finding holds in the crevices, and he was now perhaps fifteen feet closer to the top, farther from death.

The Sicilian advanced on the Korean now, his wild eyes glittY/Ng at the insubordination. “I have the keenest mind that has ever been turned to unlawful pursuits,” he began, “so when I tell you something, it is not guesswork; it is fact! And the fact is that the man in black is not following us. A more logical explanation would be that he is simply an ordinary sailor who dabbles in mountain climbing as a hobby who happens to have the same general final destination as we do. That certainly��satisfies me and I hope it satisfies you. In any case, we cannot take the risk of his seeing us with the Princess, and therefore one of you must kill him.”

“Shall I do it?” the Turk wondered.

The Sicilian shook his head. “No, Jungkook,” he said finally. “I need your strength to carry the girl. Pick her up now and let us hurry along.” He turned to the Korean. “We’ll be heading directly for the frontier of Guilder. Catch up as quickly as you can once he’s dead.”

The Korean nodded.

The Sicilian hobbled away.

The Turk hoisted the Princess, began following their leader. Just before he lost sight of the Korean he turned and hollered, “Catch up quickly.”

“Don’t I always?” The Korean waved. “Farewell, Jungkook.”

“Farewell, Jimin,” the Turk replied. And then he was gone, and the Korean was alone.

Jimin moved to the cliff edge and knelt with his customary quick grace. Two hundred and fifty feet below him now, the man in black continued his painful climb. Jimin lay flat, staring down, trying to pierce the moonlight and find the climber’s secret. For a long while, Jimin did not move. He was a good learner, but not a particularly fast one, so he had to study. Finally, he realized that somehow, by some mystery, the man in black was making fists and jamming them into the rocks, and using them for support. Then he would reach up with his other hand, until he found a high split in the rock, and make another fist and jam it in. Whenever he could find support for his feet, he would use it, but mostly it was the jammed fists that made the climbing possible.

Jimin marveled. What a truly extraordinary adventurer this man in black must be. He was close enough now for Jimin to realize that the man was masked, a black hood covering all but his features. Another outlaw? Perhaps. Then why should they have to fight and for what? Jimin shook his head. It was a shame that such a fellow must die, but he had his orders, so there it was. Sometimes he did not like the Sicilian’s commands, but what could he do? Without the brains of the Sicilian, he, Jimin, would never be able to command jobs of this caliber. The Sicilian was a master planner. Jimin was a creature of the moment. The Sicilian said “kill him,” so why waste sympathy on the man in black. Someday someone would kill Jimin, and the world would not stop to mourn.

He stood now, quickly jumping to his feet, his blade-thin body ready. For action. Only, the man in black was still many feet away.

There was nothing to do but wait for him. Jimin hated waiting. So to make the time more pleasant, he pulled from the scabbard his great, his only, love:

The six-fingered sword.

How it danced in the moonlight. How glorious and true. Jimin brought it to his lips and with all the fervor in his great Korean heart kissed the metal…

Almost twenty years earlier

At the base of the mountains of Korea, set high in the hills, was the city of Busan. It was very small and the air was always clear. That was all you could say that was good about Busan: terrific air—you could see for miles.

But there was no work, the dogs overran the streets and there was never enough food. The air, clear enough, was also too hot in daylight, freezing at night. As to Jimin’s personal life, he was always just a trifle hungry, he had no brothers or sisters, and his mother had died in childbirth.

He was fantastically happy.

Because of his father. Park Youngbae was funny-looking and crotchety and impatient and absent-minded and never smiled.

Jimin loved him. Totally. Don’t ask why. There really wasn’t any one reason you could put your finger on. Oh, probably Youngbae loved him back, but love is many things, none of them logical.

Park Youngbae made swords. If you wanted a fabulous sword, did you go to Park Youngbae? If you wanted a great balanced piece of work, did you go to the mountains behind Toledo? If you wanted a masterpiece, a sword for the ages, was it Busan that your footsteps led you to?

Nope.

You went to Seoul; because Seoul was where lived the famous Yeste, and if you had the money and he had the time, you got your weapon. Yeste was fat and jovial and one of the richest and most honored men in the city. And he should have been. He made wonderful swords, and noblemen bragged to each other when they owned an original Yeste.

But sometimes—not often, mind you, maybe once a year, maybe less—a request would come in for a weapon that was more than even Yeste could make. When that happened, did Yeste say, “Alas, I am sorry, I cannot do it”?

Nope.

What he said was, “Of course, I’d be delighted, fifty per cent down payment please, the rest before delivery, come back in a year, thank you very much.”

The next day he would set out for the hills behind Toledo.

“So, Youngbae,” Yeste would call out when he reached Jimin’s father’s hut.

“So, Yeste,” Park Youngbae would return from the hut doorway.

Then the two men would embrace and Jimin would come running up and Yeste would rumple his hair and then Jimin would make tea while the two men talked.

“I need you,” Yeste would always begin.

Youngbae would grunt.

“This very week I have accepted a commission to make a sword for a member of the Italian nobility. It is to be jewel encrusted at the handle and the jewels are to spell out the name of his present mistress and—”

“No.”

That single word and that alone. But it was enough. When Park Youngbae said “no” it meant nothing else but.

Jimin, busy with the tea, knew what would happen now: Yeste would use his charm.

“No.”

Yeste would use his wealth.

“No.”

His wit, his wonderful gift for persuasion.

“No.”

He would beg, entreat, promise, pledge.

“No.”

Insults. Threats.

“No.”

Finally, genuine tears.

“No. More tea, Yeste?”

“Perhaps another cup, thank you—” Then, big: “WHY WON’T YOU?”

Jimin hurried to refill their cups so as never to miss a word. He knew they had been brought up together, had known each other sixty years, had never not loved one another deeply, and it thrilled him when he could hear them arguing. That was the strange thing: arguing was all they ever did.

“Why? My fat friend asks me why? He sits there on his world-class ass and has the nerve to ask me why? Yeste. Come to me sometime with a challenge. Once, just once, ride up and say, ‘Youngbae, I need a sword for an eighty-year-old man to fight a duel,’ and I would embrace you and cry ‘Yes!’ Because to make a sword for an eighty-year-old man to survive a duel, that would be something. Because the sword would have to be strong enough to win, yet light enough not to tire his weary arm. I would have to use my all to perhaps find an unknown metal, strong but very light, or devise a different formula for a known one, mix some bronze with some iron and some air in a way ignored for a thousand years. I would kiss your smelly feet for an opportunity like that, fat Yeste. But to make a stupid sword with stupid jewels in the form of stupid initials so some stupid Italian can thrill his stupid mistress, no. That, I will not do.”

“For the last time I ask you. Please.”

“For the last time I tell you, I am sorry. No.”

“I gave my word the sword would be made,” Yeste said. “I cannot make it. In all the world no one can but you, and you say no. Which means I have gone back on a commitment. Which means I have lost my honor. Which means that since honor is the only thing in the world I care about, and since I cannot live without it, I must die. And since you are my dearest friend, I may as well die now, with you, basking in the warmth of your affection.” And here Yeste would pull out a knife. It was a magnificent thing, a gift from Youngbae on Yeste’s wedding day.

“Good-by, little Jimin,” Yeste would say then. “God grant you your quota of smiles.”

It was forbidden for Jimin to interrupt.

“Good-by, little Youngbae,” Yeste would say then. “Although I die in your hut, and although it is your own stubborn fault that causes my ceasing, in other words, even though you are killing me, don’t think twice about it. I love you as I always have and God forbid your conscience should give you any trouble.” He pulled open his coat, brought the knife closer, closer. “The pain is worse than I imagined!” Yeste cried.

“How can it hurt when the point of the weapon is still an inch away from your belly?” Youngbae asked.

“I’m anticipating, don’t bother me, let me die unpestered.” He brought the point to his skin, pushed.

Youngbae grabbed the knife away. “Someday I won’t stop you,” he said. “Jimin, set an extra place for supper.”

“I was all set to kill myself, truly.”

“Enough dramatics.”

“What is on the menu for the evening?”

“The usual gruel.”

“Jimin, go check and see if there’s anything by chance in my carriage outside.”

There was always a feast waiting in the carriage.

And after the food and the stories would come the departure, and always, before the departure, would come the request. “We would be partners,” Yeste would say. “In Seoul. My name before yours on the sign, of course, but equal partners in all things.”

“No.”

“All right. Your name before mine. You are the greatest sword maker, you deserve to come first.”

“Have a good trip back.”

“WHY WON’T YOU?”

“Because, my friend Yeste, you are very famous and very rich, and so you should be, because you make wonderful weapons. But you must also make them for any fool who happens along. I am poor, and no one knows me in all the world except you and Jimin, but I do not have to suffer fools.”

“You are an artist,” Yeste said.

“No. Not yet. A craftsman only. But I dream to be an artist. I pray that someday, if I work with enough care, if I am very very lucky, I will make a weapon that is a work of art. Call me an artist then, and I will answer.”

Yeste entered his carriage. Youngbae approached the window, whispered; “I remind you only of this: when you get this jeweled initialed sword, claim it as your own. Tell no one of my involvement.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Embraces and waves. The carriage would leave. And that was the way of life before the six-fingered sword.

Jimin remembered exactly the moment it began. He was making lunch for them—his father always, from the time he was six, let him do the cooking—when a heavy knocking came on the hut door. “Inside there,” a voice boomed. “Be quick about it.”

Jimin’s father opened the door. “Your servant,” he said.

“You are a sword maker,” came the booming voice. “Of distinction. I have heard that this is true.”

“If only it were,” Youngbae replied. “But I have no great skills. Mostly I do repair work. Perhaps if you had a dagger blade that was dulling, I might be able to please you. But anything more is beyond me.”

Jimin crept up behind his father and peeked out. The booming voice belonged to a powerful man with dark hair and broad shoulders who sat upon an elegant brown horse. A nobleman clearly, but Jimin could not tell the country.

“I desire to have made for me the greatest sword since Excalibur.”

“I hope your wishes are granted,” Youngbae said. “And now, if you please, our lunch is almost ready and—”

“I do not give you permission to move. You stay right exactly where you are or risk my wrath, which, I must tell you in advance, is considerable. My temper is murderous. Now, what were you saying about your lunch?”

“I was saying that it will be hours before it is ready; I have nothing to do and would not dream of budging.”

“There are rumors,” the nobleman said, “that deep in the hills behind Toledo lives a genius. The greatest sword maker in all the world.”

“He visits here sometimes—that must be your mistake. But his name is Yeste and he lives in Seoul.”

“I will pay five hundred pieces of gold for my desires,” said the big-shouldered noble.

“That is more money than all the men in all this village will earn in all their lives,” said Youngbae. “Truly, I would love to accept your offer. But I am not the man you seek.”

“These rumors lead me to believe that Park Youngbae would solve my problem.”

“What is your problem?”

“I am a great swordsman. But I cannot find a weapon to match my peculiarities, and therefore I am deprived of reaching my highest skills. If I had a weapon to match my peculiarities, there would be no one in all the world to equal me.”

“What are these peculiarities you speak of?”

The noble held up his right hand.

Youngbae began to grow excited.

The man had six fingers.

“You see?” the noble began.

“Of course,” Youngbae interrupted, “the balance of the sword is wrong for you because every balance has been conceived of for five. The grip of every handle cramps you, because it has been built for five. For an ordinary swordsman it would not matter, but a great swordsman, a master, would have eventual discomfort. And the greatest swordsman in the world must always be at ease. The grip of his weapon must be as natural as the blink of his eye, and cause him no more thought.”

“Clearly, you understand the difficulties—” the nobleman began again.

But Youngbae had traveled where others’ words could never reach him. Jimin had never seen his father so frenzied. “The measurements… of course… each finger and the circumference of the wrist, and the distance from the sixth nail to the index pad… so many measurements… and your preferences… Do you prefer to slash or cut? If you slash, do you prefer the right-to-left movement or perhaps the parallel?…When you cut, do you enjoy an upward thrust, and how much power do you wish to come from the shoulder, how much from the wrist?…And do you wish your point coated so as to enter more easily or do you enjoy seeing the opponent’s wince?…So much to be done, so much to be done…” and on and on he went until the noble dismounted and had to almost take him by the shoulders to quiet him.

“You are the man of the rumors.”

Youngbae nodded.

“And you will make me the greatest sword since Excalibur.”

“I will beat my body into ruins for you. Perhaps I will fail. But no one will try harder.”

“And payment?”

“When you get the sword, then payment. Now let me get to work measuring. Jimin—my instruments.”

Jimin scurried into the darkest corner of the hut.

“I insist on leaving something on account.”

“It is not necessary; I may fail.”

“I insist.”

“All right. One goldpiece. Leave that. But do not bother me with money when there is work that needs beginning.”

The noble took out one piece of gold.

Youngbae put it in a drawer and left it, without even a glance. “Feel your fingers now,” he commanded. “Rub your hands hard, shake your fingers—you will be excited when you duel and this handle must match your hand in that excitement; if I measured when you were relaxed, there would be a difference, as much as a thousandth of an inch and that would rob us of perfection. And that is what I seek. Perfection. I will not rest for less.”

The nobleman had to smile. “And how long will it take to reach it?”

“Come back in a year,” Youngbae said, and with that he set to work.

Such a year.

Youngbae slept only when he dropped from exhaustion. He ate only when Jimin would force him to. He studied, fretted, complained. He never should have taken the job; it was impossible. The next day he would be flying: he never should have taken the job; it was too simple to be worth his labors. Joy to despair, joy to despair, day to day, hour to hour. Sometimes Jimin would wake to find him weeping: “What is it, Father?” “It is that I cannot do it. I cannot make the sword. I cannot make my hands obey me. I would kill myself except what would you do then?” “Go to sleep, Father.” “No, I don’t need sleep. Failures don’t need sleep. Anyway, I slept yesterday.” “Please, Father, a little nap.” “All right; a few minutes; to keep you from nagging.”

Some nights Jimin would awake to see him dancing. “What is it, Father?” “It is that I have found my mistakes, corrected my misjudgments.” “Then it will be done soon, Father?” “It will be done tomorrow and it will be a miracle.” “You are wonderful, Father.” “I’m more wonderful than wonderful, how dare you insult me.”

But the next night, more tears. “What is it now, Father?” “The sword, the sword, I cannot make the sword.” “But last night, Father, you said you had found your mistakes.” “I was mistaken; tonight I found new ones, worse ones. I am the most wretched of creatures. Say you wouldn’t mind it if I killed myself so I could end this existence.” “But I would mind, Father. I love you and I would die if you stopped breathing.” “You don’t really love me; you’re only speaking pity.” “Who could pity the greatest sword maker in the history of the world?” “Thank you, Jimin.” “You’re welcome, Father.” “I love you back, Jimin.” “Sleep, Father.” “Yes. Sleep.”

A whole year of that. A year of the handle being right but the balance being wrong, of the balance being right, but the cutting edge too dull, of the cutting edge sharpened, but that threw the balance off again, of the balance returning, but now the point was fat, of the point regaining sharpness, only now the entire blade was too short and it all had to go, all had to be thrown out, all had to be done again. Again. Again. Youngbae’s health began to leave him. He was fevered always now, but he forced his frail shell on, because this had to be the finest since Excalibur. Youngbae was battling legend, and it was destroying him.

Such a year.

One night Jimin woke to find his father seated. Staring. Calm. Jimin followed the stare.

The six-fingered sword was done.

Even in the hut’s darkness, it glistened.

“At last,” Youngbae whispered. He could not take his eyes from the glory of the sword. “After a lifetime, Jimin. Jimin. I am an artist.”

The big-shouldered nobleman did not agree. When he returned to purchase the sword, he merely looked at it a moment. “Not worth waiting for,” he said.

Jimin stood in the corner of the hut, watching, holding his breath.

“You are disappointed?” Youngbae could scarcely get the words spoken.

“I’m not saying it’s trash, you understand,” the nobleman went on. “But it’s certainly not worth five hundred pieces of gold. I’ll give you ten; it’s probably worth that.”

“Wrong!” Youngbae cried. “It is not worth ten. It is not worth even one. Here.” And he threw open the drawer where the one goldpiece had lain untouched the year. “The gold is yours. All of it. You have lost nothing.” He took back the sword and turned away.

“I’ll take the sword,” the nobleman said. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t take it. I only said I would pay what it was worth.”

Youngbae whirled back, eyes bright. “You quibbled. You haggled. Art was involved and you saw only money. Beauty was here for the taking and you saw only your fat purse. You have lost nothing; there is no more reason for your remaining here. Please go.”

“The sword,” the noble said.

“The sword belongs to my son,” Youngbae said. “I give it to him now. It is forever his. Good-by.”

“You’re a peasant and a fool and I want my sword.”

“You’re an enemy of art and I pity your ignorance,” Youngbae said.

They were the last words he ever uttered.

The noble killed him then, with no warning; a flash of the nobleman’s sword and Youngbae’s heart was torn to pieces.

Jimin screamed. He could not believe it; it had not happened. He screamed again. His father was fine; soon they would have tea. He could not stop screaming.

The village heard. Twenty men were at the door. The nobleman pushed his way through them. “That man attacked me. See? He holds a sword. He attacked me and I defended myself. Now move from my way.”

It was lies, of course, and everyone knew it. But he was a noble so what was there to do? They parted, and the nobleman mounted his horse.

“Coward!”

The nobleman whirled.

“Pig!”

Again the crowd parted.

Jimin stood there, holding the six-fingered sword, repeating his words: “Coward. Pig. Killer.”

“Someone tend the babe before he oversteps himself,” the noble said to the crowd.

Jimin ran forward then, standing in front of the nobleman’s horse, blocking the nobleman’s path. He raised the six-fingered sword with both his hands and cried, “I, Park Jimin, do challenge you, coward, pig, killer, ass, fool, to battle.”

“Get him out of my way. Move the infant.”

“The infant is ten and he stays,” Jimin said.

“Enough of your family is dead for one day; be content,” said the noble.

“When you beg me for your breath, then I shall be contented. Now dismount!”

The nobleman dismounted.

“Draw your sword.”

The nobleman unsheathed his killing weapon.

“I dedicate your death to my father,” Jimin said. “Begin.”

They began.

It was no match, of course. Jimin was disarmed in less than a minute. But for the first fifteen seconds or so, the noble was uneasy. During those fifteen seconds, strange thoughts crossed his mind. For even at the age of ten, Jimin’s genius was there.

Disarmed, Jimin stood very straight. He said not a word, begged nothing.

“I’m not going to kill you,” the nobleman said. “Because you have talent and you’re brave. But you’re also lacking in manners, and that’s going to get you in trouble if you’re not careful. So I shall help you as you go through life, by leaving you with a reminder that bad manners are to be avoided.” And with that his blade flashed. Two times.

And Jimin’s face began to bleed. Two rivers of blood poured from his forehead to his chin, one crossing each cheek. Everyone watching knew it then: the boy was scarred for life.

Jimin would not fall. The world went white behind his eyes but he would not go to ground. The blood continued to pour. The nobleman replaced his sword, remounted, rode on.

It was only then that Jimin allowed the darkness to claim him.

He awoke to Yeste’s face.

“I was beaten,” Jimin whispered. “I failed him.”

Yeste could only say, “Sleep.”

Jimin slept. The bleeding stopped after a day and the pain stopped after a week. They buried Youngbae, and for the first and last time Jimin left Busan. His face bandaged, he rode in Yeste’s carriage to Seoul, where he lived in Yeste’s house, obeyed Yeste’s commands. After a month, the bandages were removed, but the scars were still deep red. Eventually, they softened some, but they always remained the chief features of Jimin’s face: the giant parallel scars running one on each side, from temple to chin. For two years, Yeste cared for him.

Then one morning, Jimin was gone. In his place were three words: “I must learn” on a note pinned to his pillow.

Learn? Learn what? What existed beyond Seoul that the child had to commit to memory? Yeste shrugged and sighed. It was beyond him. There was no understanding children any more. Everything was changing too fast and the young were different. Beyond him, beyond him, life was beyond him, the world was beyond him, you name it, it was beyond him. He was a fat man who made swords. That much he knew.

So he made more swords and he grew fatter and the years went by. As his figure spread, so did his fame. From all across the world they came, begging him for weapons, so he doubled his prices because he didn’t want to work too hard any more, he was getting old, but when he doubled his prices, when the news spread from duke to prince to king, they only wanted him the more desperately. Now the wait was two years for a sword and the line-up of royalty was unending and Yeste was growing tired, so he doubled his prices again, and when that didn’t stop them, he decided to triple his already doubled and redoubled prices and besides that, all work had to be paid for in jewels in advance and the wait was up to three years, but nothing would stop them. They had to have swords by Yeste or nothing, and even though the work on the finest was nowhere what it once was (Youngbae, after all, no longer could save him) the silly rich men didn’t notice. All they wanted was his weapons and they fell over each other with jewels for him.

Yeste grew very rich.

And very heavy.

Every part of his body sagged. He had the only fat thumbs in Seoul. Dressing took an hour, breakfast the same, everything went slowly.

But he could still make swords. And people still craved them. “I’m sorry,” he said to the young Korean who entered his shop one particular morning. “The wait is up to four years and even I am embarrassed to mention the price. Have your weapon made by another.”

“I have my weapon,” the Korean said.

And he threw the six-fingered sword across Yeste’s workbench.

Such embraces.

“Never leave again,” Yeste said. “I eat too much when I’m lonely.”

“I cannot stay,” Jimin told him. “I’m only here to ask you one question. As you know, I have spent the last ten years learning. Now I have come for you to tell me if I’m ready.”

“Ready? For what? What in the world have you been learning?”

“The sword.”

“Madness,” said Yeste. “You have spent ten entire years just learning to fence?”

“No, not just learning to fence,” Jimin answered. “I did many other things as well.”

“Tell me.”

“Well,” Jimin began, “ten years is what? About thirty-six hundred days. And that’s about—I figured this out once, so I remember pretty well—about eighty-six thousand hours. Well, I always made it a point to get four hours sleep per night. That’s fourteen thousand hours right there, leaving me perhaps seventy-two thousand hours to account for.”

“You slept. I’m with you. What else?”

“Well, I squeezed rocks.”

“I’m sorry, my hearing sometimes fails me; it sounded like you said you squeezed rocks.”

“To make my wrists strong. So I could control the sword. Rocks like apples. That size. I would squeeze them in each hand for perhaps two hours a day. And I would spend another two hours a day in skipping and dodging and moving quickly, so that my feet would be able to get me into position to deliver properly the thrust of the sword. That’s another fourteen thousand hours. I’m down to fifty-eight thousand now. Well, I always sprinted two hours each day as fast as I could, so my legs, as well as being quick, would also be strong. And that gets me down to about fifty thousand hours.”

Yeste examined the young man before him. Blade thin, six feet in height, straight as a sapling, bright eyed, taut; even motionless he seemed whippet quick. “And these last fifty thousand hours? These have been spent studying the sword?”

Jimin nodded.

“Where?”

“Wherever I could find a master. Venice, Bruges, Budapest.”

“I could have taught you here?”

“True. But you care for me. You would not have been ruthless. You would have said, ‘Excellent parry, Jimin, now that’s enough for one day; let’s have supper.’”

“That does sound like me,” Yeste admitted. “But why was it so important? Why was it worth so much of your life?”

“Because I could not fail him again.”

“Fail who?”

“My father. I have spent all these years preparing to find the six-fingered man and kill him in a duel. But he is a master, Yeste. He said as much and I saw the way his sword flew at Youngbae. I must not lose that duel when I find him, so now I have come to you. You know swords and swordsmen. You must not lie. Am I ready? If you say I am, I will seek him through the world. If you say no, I will spend another ten years and another ten after that, if that is needed.”

So they went to Yeste’s courtyard. It was late morning. Hot. Yeste put his body in a chair and the chair in the shade. Jimin stood waiting in the sunshine. “We need not test desire and we know you have sufficient motive to deliver the death blow,” Yeste said.

“Therefore we need only probe your knowledge and speed and stamina. We need no enemy for this. The enemy is always in the mind. Visualize him.”

Jimin drew his sword.

“The six-fingered man taunts you,” Yeste called. “Do what you can.”

Jimin began to leap around the courtyard, the great blade flashing.

“He uses the Agrippa defense,” Yeste shouted.

Immediately, Jimin shifted position, increased the speed of his sword.

“Now he surprises you with Bonetti’s attack.”

But Jimin was not surprised for long. Again his feet shifted; he moved his body a different way. Perspiration was pouring down his thin frame now and the great blade was blinding. Yeste continued to shout. Jimin continued to shift. The blade never stopped.

At three in the afternoon, Yeste said, “Enough. I am exhausted from the watching.”

Jimin sheathed the six-fingered sword and waited.

“You wish to know if I feel you are ready to duel to the death a man ruthless enough to kill your father, rich enough to buy protection, older and more experienced, an acknowledged master.”

Jimin nodded.

“I’ll tell you the truth, and it’s up to you to live with it. First, there has never been a master as young as you. Thirty years at least before that rank has yet been reached, and you are barely twenty-two. Well, the truth is you are an impetuous boy driven by madness and you are not now and you will never be a master.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” Jimin said. “I must tell you I had hoped for better news. I find it very hard to speak just now, so if you’ll please excuse me, I’ll be on my—”

“I had not finished,” Yeste said.

“What else is there to say?”

“I loved your father very dearly, that you know, but this you did not know: when we were very young, not yet twenty, we saw, with our own eyes, an exhibition by the Corsican Wizard, Bastia.”

“I know of no wizards.”

“It is the rank beyond master in swordsmanship,” Yeste said. “Bastia was the last man so designated. Long before your birth, he died at sea. There have been no wizards since, and you would never in this world have beaten him. But I tell you this: he would never in this world have beaten you.”

Jimin stood silent for a long time. “I am ready then.”

“I would not enjoy being the six-fingered man,” was all Yeste replied.

The next morning, Jimin began the track-down. He had it all carefully prepared in his mind. He would find the six-fingered man. He would go up to him. He would say simply, “Hello, my name is Park Jimin, you killed my father, prepare to die,” and then, oh then, the duel.

It was a lovely plan really. Simple, direct. No frills. In the beginning, Jimin had all kinds of wild vengeance notions, but gradually, simplicity had seemed the better way. Originally, he had all kinds of little plays worked out in his mind—the enemy would weep and beg, the enemy would cringe and cry, the enemy would bribe and slobber and act in every way unmanly. But eventually, these too gave way in his mind to simplicity: the enemy would simply say, “Oh, yes, I remember killing him; I’ll be only too delighted to kill you too.”

Jimin had only one problem: he could not find the enemy.

It never occurred to him there would be the least difficulty. After all, how many noblemen were there with six fingers on their right hands? Surely, it would be the talk of whatever his vicinity happened to be. A few questions: “Pardon, I’m not crazy, but have you seen any six-fingered noblemen lately?” and surely, sooner or later, there would be an answering “yes.”

But it didn’t come sooner.

And later wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to hold your breath for either.

The first month wasn’t all that discouraging. Jimin criss-crossed Spain and Portugal. The second month he moved to France and spent the rest of the year there. The year following that was his Italian year, and then came Germany and the whole of Switzerland.

It was only after five solid years of failure that he began to worry. By then he had seen all of the Balkans and most of Scandinavia and had visited the Florinese and the natives of Guilder and into Mother Russia and down step by step around the entire Mediterranean.

By then he knew what had happened: ten years learning was ten years too long; too much had been allowed to happen. The six-fingered man was probably crusading in Asia. Or getting rich in America. Or a hermit in the East Indies. Or… or…

Dead?

Jimin, at the age of twenty-seven, began having a few extra glasses of wine at night, to help him get to sleep. At twenty-eight, he was having a few extra glasses to help him digest his lunch. At twenty-nine, the wine was essential to wake him in the morning. His world was collapsing around him. Not only was he living in daily failure, something almost as dreadful was beginning to happen:

Fencing was beginning to bore him.

He was simply too good. He would make his living during his travels by finding the local champion wherever he happened to be, and they would duel, and Jimin would disarm him and accept whatever they happened to bet. And with his winnings he would pay for his food and his lodging and his wine.

But the local champions were nothing. Even in the big cities, the local experts were nothing. Even in the capital cities, the local masters were nothing. There was no competition, nothing to help him keep an edge. His life began to seem pointless, his quest pointless, everything, everything, without reason.

At thirty he gave up the ghost. He stopped his search, forgot to eat, slept only on occasion. He had his wine for company and that was enough.

He was a shell. The greatest fencing machine since the Corsican Wizard was barely even practicing the sword.

He was in that condition when the Sicilian found him.

At first the little Sicilian only supplied him with stronger wine. But then, through a combination of praise and nudging, the Sicilian began to get him off the bottle. Because the Sicilian had a dream: with his guile plus the Turk’s strength plus the Korean’s sword, they might become the most effective criminal organization in the civilized world.

Which is precisely what they became.

In dark places, their names whipped sharper than fear; everyone had needs that were hard to fulfill. The Sicilian Crowd (two was company, three a crowd, even then) became more and more famous and more and more rich. Nothing was beyond or beneath them. Jimin’s blade was flashing again, more than ever like lightning. The Turk’s strength grew more prodigious with the months.

But the Sicilian was the leader. There was never doubt. Without him, Jimin knew where he would be: on his back begging wine in some alley entrance. The Sicilian’s word was not just law, it was gospel.

So when he said, “Kill the man in black,” all other possibilities ceased to exist. The man in black had to die…

masterpost

#kwritersworldnet #jiyong fic #jiyong fanfic #kwon jiyong #bigbang fic #bts fic #park jimin #lee seunghyun #jiyong princess bride #jiyong westley #sylvanwriting #gdragon fic #long post #idk what to tag thisssss #introducing my weird versions of jimin and kook since they seemed to fit fezzik and inigo the best

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lacrimis · 6 years

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Helmut Fischer was the son of a businessman and a tailor and grew up in the Munich district of Neuhausen in Donnersbergerstraße 50a, where he also went to school. When the secondary school rejected him, he joined Otto Falckenberg's drama school, which he quit after a short time. In the subsequent period Fischer worked as a theater actor. In 1952 was his stage debut at the Würzburg city theatre as Albrecht III in Friedrich Hebbel's Agnes Bernauer. The reviews were devastating.

For almost 20 years Fischer remained largely unknown and had to deal with minor supporting roles. Among other things, he worked at the Munich "Oktoberfest" at the Zuban show as part of a zebra's behind. In 1953 he married the dancer Utta Martin, with whom he lived up to his death (44 years). In 1961 saw the actor's debut in Bavarian Television: as a hairdresser in Ludwig Thoma's comedy Die Lokalbahn. Fischer described himself as "terrible" and said in retrospect: "Richtig g'schämt hab' ich mich, wie überzogen ich damals g'spielt hab (I was terribly ashamed about my totally excessive acting)". As he was under-worked with acting alone, Fischer also worked as a film critic for the Munich Abendzeitung.

In 1972 he played in the Bavarian Television's first episode of the Tatort series, as assistant to then-time Inspector Veigl (played by Gustl Bayrhammer). When Veigl was "retired" in 1981, Fischer was "promoted" to Commissioner Ludwig Lenz and as such he solved a total of seven cases until 1987. In 1974 Helmut Fischer, in his favourite café Münchner Freiheit met director Helmut Dietl. The latter recognised his friend's true talent and in 1980 gave him a major role in the TV series Der ganz normale Wahnsinn in which Fischer for the first time got to play a manquéed playboy.

Memorial for "Monaco Franze" (Helmut Fischer) at Münchner Freiheit The final breakthrough came in 1983 with Helmut Fischer's series Monaco Franze – Der ewige Stenz. Again Helmut Dietl was the director, Patrick Süskind cooperated on the scripts to almost all episodes. In the series, which has now reached cult status among fans, Fischer alongside Ruth Maria Kubitschek, Christine Kaufmann, Karl Obermayr [de] and Erni Singerl [de] in inimitable way embodied an easygoing dandy, charmer and ladies' men, who always manages to master awkward situations with a sheepy smile. Famous sayings by the character role like "A bisserl was geht immer (Anything goes)" were adapted into daily language use. Matching this, Fischer also recorded a successful single titled "Spatzl (Schau wia i schau)) (Sweetheart (Look like I'm looking))".

From now on, the actor was busy with roles whose character were always based on Stenz though. Until the end of his life Fischer kept assuring that the figure of Monaco Franze had nothing to do with his real life. In the mid-1980s, Fischer played with Thomas Gottschalk and Michael Winslow in the two Zärtliche Chaoten films, from 1987 to 1992 he could be seen as "Josefbärli" along Veronika Fitz and Ilse Neubauer in the series Die Hausmeisterin (The House Keeper). Fischer enjoyed his last success in the series Ein Schloß am Wörthersee (A castle on the Wörthersee), where he played the absentminded estate manager Leo Laxeneder, and as the fictitious mayor of Hohenwaldau, Peter Elfinger in Peter and Paul alongside Hans Clarin.

In 1993 Helmut Fischer was diagnosed with cancer. He kept this diagnosis largely secret, only his wife Utta knew about it. In 1996, the actor underwent treatment by the well-known and controversial cancer specialist Julius Hackethal. In November he celebrated his 70th anniversary with a great number of friends and colleagues. At the occasion the told the press: "Das Leben macht sich ja mehr und mehr aus dem Staub (Life is more and more buzzing off)". Eight months later Fischer, to the surprise of the common public, died in Chiemgau. More than 1,000 people participated in the funeral service at the mortuary of Munich's northern cemetery and the subsequent funeral at the Bogenhausen cemetery (gravesite no. 2-4-2) on 19 June 1997. In his funeral speech Munich's Lord Mayor Christian Ude, a friend and neighbour of Fischer, said: "... Populär war er in ganz Deutschland - in München wurde er geliebt. (He was popular throughout Germany - in Munich, he was loved.)"

Filmography :

1958 – Cherchez la femme (Curse the Women); with Helen Vita

1959 – Hunting Party; with Angelika Meissner and Wolf Albach-Retty

1960 – Oh! This Bavaria!; with Liesl Karlstadt and Ludwig Schmid-Wildy

1960 – Die vor die Hunde gehen (Those Who go to the Dogs)

1962 – Florence und der Zahnarzt (Florence and the Dentist)

1970 – Der Röhm-Putsch (Night of the Long Knives); with Hans Korte and Gustl Bayrhammer

1978 – Sachrang (Order of the Case); with Gustl Bayrhammer

1978 – The Unicorn

1978 - Derrick - Season 05, Episode 04: "Ein Hinterhalt"

1979 – Blauer Himmel, den ich nur ahne (Blue Heavens which I can but sense); with Jörg Hube and Hans Stadtmüller

1979 – Der Durchdreher; Director: Helmut Dietl

1980 – Die Undankbare (The Ungrateful)

1984 – Mama Mia – Nur keine Panik [de] (Mamma mia - don't panic); with Uschi Glas and Thomas Gottschalk

1987 – Hexenschuß (Lumbago); with Birte Berg and Beppo Brem

1987 – Zärtliche Chaoten (Tender Chaotics); with Thomas Gottschalk and Michael Winslow

1988 – Starke Zeiten (Hard Times); with Karl Dall, Hans-Joachim Kulenkampff and David Hasselhoff

1988 – Zärtliche Chaoten 2; with Thomas Gottschalk und Michael Winslow

1989 – Jede Menge Schmidt (Lots of Schmidt); with Anja Schüte

1992 – Der Unschuldsengel (Innoncent as an Angel); with Hans Clarin and Iris Berben

1993 – Probefahrt ins Paradies (Test Run to Paradise)

1995 – Drei in fremden Kissen (Three in Foreign Sheets); with Hans Brenner and Fritz Wepper

1996 – Drei in fremden Betten (Three in foreign Beds); with Fritz Wepper and Heidelinde Weis

1997 – Fröhlich geschieden (Happily divorced); with Rainhard Fendrich

TV series :

Funkstreife Isar 12 (Patrol Car Isar 12); with Wilmut Borell and Karl Tischlinger

Graf Yoster gibt sich die Ehre (Count Yoster); with Lukas Ammann and Wolfgang Völz

1972–1981 – Tatort; as Kommissar Veigl's (Gustl Bayrhammer) assistant Ludwig Lenz, with Willy Harlander

1981–1987 – Tatort; as Hauptkommissar Ludwig Lenz

Tatort series as visiting commissioner in:

1968 – Die seltsamen Methoden des Franz Josef Wanninger (The Strange Methods of F. J. Wanninger) - Die Beschützer(The Protectors); TV police series

1972 – Gestern gelesen (Read Yesterday)

1978 – Derrick - Ein Hinterhalt (An Ambush); TV police series with Horst Tappert and Fritz Wepper

1979 and 1986/1987 – Der Millionenbauer (The Million Mark Farmer); with Walter Sedlmayr and Veronika Fitz

1979 – Fast wia im richtigen Leben (Almost like Real Life); with Gerhard Polt

1979 – Der ganz normale Wahnsinn (The Ordinary Madness)

1982 – Meister Eder und sein Pumuckl - Die abergläubische Putzfrau (The Superstitious Cleaner); Children's series

1983 – Krimistunde (Thriller Time)

1983 – Monaco Franze – Der ewige Stenz; with Ruth Maria Kubitschek

1983 – Unsere schönsten Jahre (Our best Years); with Uschi Glas and Elmar Wepper

1986 – Das Traumschiff (The Dreamliner); guest role

1986 – Rette mich, wer kann (Save Me who Can!); with Gundi Ellert

1987–1992 – Die Hausmeisterin (The House Keeper); with Veronika Fitz

1992 – Lilli Lottofee [de] (roughly: Lilli the Lottery Game Fairy); with Senta Berger

1992–1993 – Ein Schloß am Wörthersee (A Castle on Wörthersee); with Uschi Glas

1993–1994 – Peter und Paul (Peter and Paul); series with Hans Clarin

1996 – Wir Königskinder; with Fritz Wepper

1972 Münchner Kindl

1973 Weißblaue Turnschuhe (White and blue Sneakers)

1973 Tote brauchen keine Wohnung (Dead Persons need no Flat)

1974 3:0 für Veigl (3-0 for Veigl)

1975 Als gestohlen gemeldet (Reported stolen)

1975 Das zweite Geständnis (The second Confession)

1976 Wohnheim Westendstraße (Westendstraße Boarding House)

1977 Das Mädchen am Klavier (The Girl at the Piano)

1977 Schüsse in der Schonzeit (Shots during Closed Season)

1978 Schlußverkauf (Sale-out)

1978 Schwarze Einser (Black Ones)

1979 Ende der Vorstellung (End of the Show)

1979 Maria im Elend (Miserable Maria)

1980 Spiel mit Karten (A Card Game)

1981 Usambaraveilchen (Saintpaulias)

1981 Im Fadenkreuz (In the Crosshairs)

1982 Tod auf dem Rastplatz (Death on the resting place)

1983 Roulette mit sechs Kugeln (Roulette with six Bullets)

1984 Heißer Schnee (Hot Snow)

1985 Schicki Micki (Fancy)

1987 Die Macht des Schicksals (The Power of Fate)

1987 Gegenspieler (Opponent)

1976 Transit ins Jenseits (Transit to the Afterlife)

1977 Wer andern eine Grube gräbt (Harm set, Harm get)

1979 Der King (The King)

1987 Wunschlos tot (Perfectly Dead)

Stage plays :

1952 – Agnes Bernauer - at the Würzburg city theatre

1953 – Diener zweier Herren (Servant of Two Masters) - am Stadttheater Würzburg

1964 – Die großen Sebastians (The Great Sebastians) - at the Kleine Komödie in Munich

1966 – Italienische Nacht (Italian Night) - at Residenz Theatre

1969-1970 – Jagdszenen aus Niederbayern (Hunting Scenes from Lower Bavaria) - Münchner Kammerspiele

1975 – Fast wie ein Poet (Almost like A Poet) - at Residenz Theatre - Director: Rudolf Noelte

1984-1985 – Waldfrieden (Peace in the Woods) - Münchner Volkstheater

1984-1985 – Die Brautschau (Looking for a Wife) - am Münchner Volkstheater mit Hans Brenner

On Fischer's favourite spot in the garden of café Münchner Freiheit in Schwabing, a bronze monument by Nicolai Tregor Jr. was revealed which depicts Fischer in his famous role as Monaco Franze.

#helmut fischer #deutschland #europe #monaco #bavaria #tombstone #munchen #münchen #munich #graveyard #grave #tomb #death #monument #filmography

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searchingwardrobes · 6 years

Text

Tortures of Hell, With Lower Prices

With everyone heading back to school, I thought I would bring back this ridiculous thing I wrote about CS back to school shopping at Walmart. I wrote this ages ago, long before Hope and the combining of the realms, so this isn’t canon compliant at all. If that’s going to bother you, then just skip this. I don’t hate Hope, chill people. Also can be read on Ao3

It should have been a simple errand. Run into Dark Star Pharmacy on the way home from Granny’s, school supply list in hand. Emma should have known that nothing could be simple where Killian was concerned.

“Five dollars for a bloody notebook!” Killian practically roared. “This is practically robbery, Swan! And I should know, I’m a pirate.”

“But, Daddy!” Evan, their seven year old argued. “It has Star Wars on the front!”

“It ought to be engraved with gold for that price,” Killian grumbled.

“Honey,” Emma argued gently, placing a hand on his arm, “We’ve bought school supplies here for the past four years. And every year, you complain.” Which shouldn’t have surprised her. All prices in this realm were outrageous to her 300 year old pirate.

“Well someone has to! They’re cheating the citizens of our town. Doesn’t Regina care about this?”

Emma refrained from rolling her eyes. “It’s the only place in town that carries school supplies, Killian. They can basically charge whatever they want.”

“Well, they aren’t taking advantage of this pirate anymore, I can tell you that.” Killian snatched the notebook from Evan’s hand and put it back on the shelf, despite the seven year old’s protests. He had five year old Briar Rose hand over the Hello Kitty folder and the sparkly pink pencil case.

“But Daddy!” the little girl pouted. Emma knew Killian was serious when his little girl’s trembling lower lip didn’t sway him.

“If the game is rigged in Storybrooke, we’ll simply go elsewhere, love.”

Emma should have insisted they buy the school supplies at Dark Star; it was Friday night, and school started on Monday. But after being married to Killian for the past nine years, Emma had learned that when he set his mind to something, he was all in. And when Killian Jones was all in, he delivered.

After putting the children down for the night, Emma crawled into their king size bed where Killian was sitting up with Emma’s laptop (which he still referred to as “the magic box”). “Did you know, Emma, that this is tax-free weekend? There’s no sales tax on back to school items through midnight Sunday.”

Emma chuckled as she curled herself into Killian’s side. “There’s never any tax in Storybrooke.”

Killian’s tongue stuck out of his mouth and his eye’s narrowed as he continued clicking. “I know that Swan, but there’s sales tax everywhere else. So this is the best time to shop outside town.” A grin suddenly spread across his face. “A-ha!”

Emma leaned over to look at the screen. “No, Killian, please no! Not there!”

Killian wrinkled his brow in confusion. “Why ever not, Swan? They have the lowest prices, do they not?” Emma groaned as she pulled the covers over her head. Her voice came muffled through the fabric. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Jones.”

Killian chuckled. “Now who’s being overdramatic? How bad can it be? Tomorrow morning, we’ll all head there. It will be a nice family outing.”

Emma pulled the blanket away and stared at Killian incredulously. “You want to take the kids?”

He shrugged one shoulder at her. “Why not?”

Emma opened her mouth, then closed it. At first, she wanted to flat out say no. But then a mischievous grin spread across her face. It should have given Killian pause, but it didn’t.

“Sure, sweetheart. We’ll all go to Wal-Mart.”

***********************************************

The closest town with a Wal-mart wasn’t all that far from Storybrooke. It was only a 20 minute drive. Despite that, the kids still begged to set the DVD players up in the mini-van. Yes, Captain Hook had a mini-van. They had made do with the bug until child number three came along. Two car seats would barely fit in the bug; three were impossible. To Emma’s shock, Killian had actually been the one to choose the van. Black, of course.

“You know the rule,” Emma reminded the kids. “DVDs are only for long trips – an hour or more.” The kids grumbled and complained until Emma reminded them that they had to behave if they wanted to look at the toys or get a free cookie from the bakery. Emma drove while Killian messed with his phone.

“Have you heard of this app, Emma?” he asked her, waving the device. She shook her head and grinned. He always sounded like a kid with a new toy when he discovered the wonders of modern technology. “You scan your receipt, it searches other stores, and if anyone else has a lower price, they give you the money back!”

When they pulled into the parking lot, Emma groaned. “This place is packed! We’ll have to park a mile away from the store!”

Killian’s jaw dropped. “I’ve never seen a parking lot so huge!”

The kids all began talking at once as Emma pulled into a space. If her husband and kids were this excited about Wal-mart, they really needed to start getting out of Storybrooke more often. They all piled out of the mini-van. “Six, guys,” Emma told them. “Remember the number six. That’s the aisle we parked on.”

The five of them walked through the front doors of the massive store and headed to the rows of shopping carts. Killian tugged one loose, then turned to the kids. He turned frantic eyes to Emma. “Where’s Evan?”

“Seriously?” asked Emma, scanning the store. “We lost one already?”

Killian pointed half way across the store. “There! See him?”

Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “Evan!” she called. “Get back over here!”

“But the sign says bakery,” Evan said, pointing at the neon sign. “You said we could get a cookie.”

“As a reward when we’re done,” Emma sighed. “Get back over here, and don’t wander away from us like that again.”

Evan grumbled and dragged his feet, but obeyed. Emma then turned to hoist three year old Ian into the seat at the front of the shopping cart. Ian shook his head vehemently. “I wanna walk!”

Emma took a deep breath and counted to three. They weren’t even all the way into the store yet! Why the hell had she agreed to this? “You’re too little to walk, honey. It’s a big store.”

Ian crossed his little arms and stuck out his lower lip. “Evan and Briar Rose get to walk. I a’ways too wittle!”

“Come on, Swan,” Killian argued, giving her his best puppy dog look. “Let him walk.”

Killian always caved when Ian complained about being little. Something about Liam always calling him “little brother.” Emma sighed in exasperation. “Fine! But if he takes off, you’re chasing after him!”

Killian took Ian’s hand and smiled down at him. Briar Rose jumped up to hang off the side of the cart like she always did at Storybrooke market. But since Ian wasn’t in the front seat, the cart began to tip. Emma and Killian grabbed it before it fell over on top of her. In her fear, Emma shouted at Briar Rose to watch what she was doing. It was the wrong thing to do. Their middle child was extremely sensitive and tender-hearted. Her lip immediately began to tremble and her green eyes filled up with giant crocodile tears. Before the wailing could begin, Killian scooped her up and began whispering in her ear. A tremulous smile crept across her face. Killian tickled her, and all was well. Another crisis averted.

“Shall we?” Killian asked her gallantly with a cocky grin. Emma narrowed her eyes at him, squeezing the handle of the shopping cart until her knuckles turned white. She would see that grin wiped off his face if it was the last thing she did in this stupid store.

They headed to the school supply section, which was pretty simple to find. All you had to do was follow the sounds of scolding parents, whining children, and general pandemonium. Killian muttered, “Bloody hell!” under his breath, and Emma couldn’t help tossing him her own cocky grin. “Why are Ziploc bags and Kleenex in the school supply section, Swan?”

“I asked my wife the same question,” complained a man to Killian’s left. “We didn’t have to buy all this crap when I was in school. Do you know what expo markers are?”

“Haven’t a clue.”

“Yeah,” the man muttered as he shouldered past a woman who was arguing with her twelve year old about a back pack, “neither do I.”

Out of curiosity, Killian grabbed one of the school supply lists from the nearby yellow display. He whistled under his breath at the list and was suddenly thankful for tiny Storybrooke Public School, K-12. Killian was suddenly shoved from behind, sending him tumbling into Emma, which caused the shopping cart she was maneuvering to crash into a plump woman in front of her.

“I am SO sorry!” Emma apologized.

The woman scoffed. “Well watch it next time, lady!”

Emma turned the cart (a difficult task, since one wheel wobbled ineffectually, not even touching the ground) down the paper aisle. Killian shifted Briar Rose to his other arm so he could pull the supply list out of his back pocket with his good hand.

“Spiral bound notebook; color of choice,” he read off for Emma.

“Which kid?”

Killian shuffled the two papers. “Um . . . both.”

Briar Rose scrambled down out of Killian’s arms, darting off between people and carts. Killian nervously kept his eyes trained on her dark bob with the giant pink bow. It had killed him and Emma at first to see her hair chopped off, but he had to admit the bob was adorable on Briar Rose and made her look uncannily like her grandmother. It was all the hairdresser could do to salvage Evan’s handiwork. They were acting out the end of Tangled, he had explained.

“I want this one, Mommy!” Briar Rose exclaimed, weaving through the mass of people. She held up her notebook of choice. “It’s Belle! And she’s reading a book in the library, just like in Storybrooke!”

Emma hurriedly tossed the notebook into the cart, glancing around nervously. But no one was paying a bit of attention to their daughter. Briar Rose scrambled into the cart, admiring the cover of her brand new notebook.

“Ok, Evan,” Emma asked. “What about you?” “I wanted Star Wars,” Evan whined. Emma and Killian bobbed and weaved amongst all the people, searching in vain for a Star Wars notebook. People behind them started grumbling for them to move along.

Emma straightened, pushing her hair out of her face in frustration. “Just pick something else, honey, ok?” She held up two notebooks. “Captain America or Ninja Turtles?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Captain America.” Killian had a sudden urge to back-hand the boy. You would have thought Emma had handed him cow dung.

“I want one, too!” Ian begged, jumping up and down.

“Sure, little man,” Killian agree. “Which one would you like?”

Ian grabbed a notebook identical to his older brother’s and hugged it to his chest. Evan groaned, “That’s the one I picked! He’s always copying me!”

Emma rolled her eyes. The combined eye rolls of the Jones family was probably going to set some kind of record. Emma grabbed two other notebooks.

“What about this one Ian? It has cars on it? Or dinosaurs?”

Ian shook his head, clutching the notebook tighter. “Uh-uh. I want Cap’n ‘Merica.”

Emma glanced around the shelves. “What about this one? It has Captain America, too.”

Ian stomped both legs and scrunched his face up until it turned red. “Not Iron Man! Just Cap’n ‘Merica!”

Emma began rubbing her temple. She was definitely getting a headache. “What about this?” Killian asked behind her. “It’s Captain America’s shield.” Emma held Killian’s gaze, both of them holding their breath as the toddler contemplated the choice.

“kay,” Ian finally agreed, grabbing the notebook and tossing it into the cart. Emma and Killian both let out a relieved breath.

“Killian!” Emma cried out, giving his shoulder a shove. “Quick, 2nd-3rd grade lined paper! Behind you; there’s only one pack left!”

Killian whirled around, frantically scanning the shelves. There! He grabbed for it, but just as he did, so did another hand with long, sharp red fingernails. He looked up into the determined eyes of a frazzled mother. Killian sighed. Good form and all of that. He relinquished the paper.

Emma’s frustrated voice came from over his shoulder. “Killian!”

Just then, his salvation came in the form of a blue vest with a name tag that read “Brittany.” The crowd in the aisle seemed to magically part before her. She ripped open a cardboard box, setting out several new tablets of 2nd-3rd grade lined paper. Out of nowhere, dozens of other shoppers descended on them like locusts. Killian found himself in a struggle for the coveted paper, but finally, finally, he had some in his hands! “Pre-k/1st grade paper too, Killian!” Emma shouted behind him. After a brief struggle, he pushed himself out of the throng, paper in hand.

“My hero!” Emma teased, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Killian pulled the supply lists out of his pocket once again and groaned as he looked it over. At least it didn’t include the elusive expo markers, but they still had a long way to go.

“Okay, kids!” Emma said brightly. “On to the pencil aisle!”

Evan flung himself onto the floor, right there in the middle of the aisle. Killian looked around in a panic, expecting his son to be run over at any moment. “I want my cookie NOW!” he whined in the most annoying way imaginable.

“Get. Up.” Killian hissed between gritted teeth.

“Not only does he look just like you,” Emma quipped, “he inherited your flair for the dramatic.”

Killian glared at Emma, then nudged his oldest son with the toe of his boot. “Get off your arse, son. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Evan groaned and did as his father asked. To Killian’s right, an older woman huffed and narrowed her eyes at Killian. “Well I never in all my days heard a father talk that way to a child,” she complained to her husband, loud enough for everyone around her to hear.

Emma grabbed Killian by the arm just as he opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t, Killian,” Emma said sternly as her husband clenched his jaw. “It isn’t worth it. Judging parents at Wal-mart is almost a national past time. Let it go.”

Killian sighed and rubbed his forehead. Now he was getting a head ache. Emma decided to have pity on him. Rubbing his arm she asked, “Why don’t I finish the list on my own? You can take the kids over to look at the toys.”

The kids all perked up at that. “Toys!” they all cried in unison. Briar Rose scrambled out of the cart, tossing her Princess Belle notebook heedlessly to the bottom. Killian grinned down at Emma. “I love you.”

She smirked back. “I know.”

Killian handed Emma the school supply list, Ian yanking impatiently on his arm. When he turned around, the older two had almost sprinted out of sight. “Evan! Briar Rose! Wait for me!” Killian jogged after them, scooping Ian up in his arms. He couldn’t believe the size of the toy section when they reached it. Toyland, Storybrooke’s lone toy store, wasn’t even as big as this one section of Wal-mart. Immediately, Killian faced a dilemma. Briar Rose wanted to look at the doll aisle. Evan wanted to look at the Lego sets. Ian wanted to look at the Thomas trains. Killian ran his hand wearily down his face. “Okay. Evan, you’re old enough to go over to the Legos by yourself I suppose. Just don’t go anywhere else. Ian, we’ll look at Thomas trains AFTER we look at dolls with your sister. She’s always having to do boy things, so it’s only fair.”

Ian, of course, stomped his little feet again in frustration. When Killian continued to tell him no, he sprinted down the aisle and around the corner. “Ian!” Killian yelled. He glanced back at Briar Rose, then down the end of the aisle where his three year old had disappeared. Growling in frustration, he scooped up his daughter and raced for the aisle that said “Thomas,” but when he got there . . . no Ian. His heart suddenly constricted in his chest. Where was he? And what would Emma say? “Ian! Ian!” he continued to shout as he raced up one aisle and down another. He finally found him in the last place he had thought to look – the Lego aisle, standing next to his big brother, both admiring a Lego set of the Millenium Falcon. Killian let out a shaky breath, setting Briar Rose down as his heart slowed its erratic beating.

But there was no rest for the weary, apparently. Evan turned suddenly to his father, legs crossed, hands cupping his privates. “I gotta pee. Now!”

Killian groaned. “Do you know where it is?”

“Yeah, I think.”

“Ok, well, run in that direction. You too, Briar Rose. Ian and I will be right behind you.”

Killian turned to find that his three year old had turned into a helpless puddle on the floor. “Nooo!” he wailed. “Toys!” Killian picked him up, but the child’s limbs dangled and dragged on the floor. How did toddlers will themselves to become heavy when having a tantrum? Killian hoisted Ian over one shoulder, still kicking and screaming as he raced down the aisle. When he came out into the large center aisle, Evan and Briar Rose were nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, it only took him a moment to find the sign that said “Restroom.” He ran as fast as he could in that direction, following the signs until he ended up in front of the men’s room just as Evan was exiting. Once again, Killian found himself looking around frantically.

“Where’s your sister?” “I dunno,” Evan said with a shrug of his shoulders. Killian wanted to back-hand him for the second time that day. Didn’t he know Briar Rose was a helpless five year old girl?

“Well – think son! When did you see her last?”

“She got distracted by Zootopia. On the TVs.”

Killian raced back out into the main part of the store.

“Look, Daddy, Star Wars!” Killian looked behind him, frustrated to see Evan looking at DVDS.

“I don’t have time for this Evan! We lost your sister!” Killian stomped back over to Evan, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him away from the DVDS. As Killian turned back around, he saw the same older couple from earlier. The woman was muttering and giving him the most condescending look, but at that point, he could really care less. He had to find Briar Rose! She was such an adorable little thing; what if someone had grabbed her? He saw the movie Evan had mentioned, but there was a whole row of dozens of televisions playing the same thing. Finally, he heard the sound of crying. Ahead of him, at the end of an aisle stood Briar Rose, turning frantically in circles. Killian raced to her, falling to his knees and enveloping his little girl in a hug, managing to keep hold of the boys in the process.

“Anything I need to know?” came a familiar voice from behind them.

Killian stood to face Emma, holding tight to all three children. “Yes, Swan,” Killian growled. “We’re leaving. NOW.” He deposited Ian in the seat at the front of the cart, ignoring the child’s protests as he buckled him in.

“Have a rough time?” Emma asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“This place is worse than torture in hell, Swan!” Killian snapped. “And I should know!”

Emma scoffed. “Please, Killian, don’t exaggerate. Besides, you were in the underworld, not hell.”

“Well I’d rather face Hades a million times over than endure this place one second longer. Come on children, don’t dawdle.”

All three of them began to protest: “But what about our cookies?” “We didn’t get to look at the toys at all!” “Thomas trains!”

“NO!” Killian cut them off firmly, raising his good hand in the air. “I lost each of you –“

“You did?” Emma asked, but Killian continued without even acknowledging the question.

“ – got knocked over by who knows how many people, had to endure more whining from the three of you than any father should have to endure, and there’s a lady in her somewhere who’s probably calling an orphanage as we speak because she thinks I’m an unfit parent.”

“Children’s services, Killian, not an orphanage.”

“Whatever. Let’s pay for this rubbage and get the hell out of here.”

Killian turned the dilapidated cart awkwardly towards checkout, the children for once completely silent.

************************************************

An hour later, Killian sat in a booth at McDonald’s his head resting wearily against Emma’s shoulder. The kids had acted like total brats at Wal-mart, but they were all starving by the time they left the store, and they hadn’t gotten the cookies, after all. Storybrooke didn’t have a McDonald’s either, and Emma and Killian felt like Wal-mart had been just as much torture for the children as it had been for them. Besides, after Killian’s outburst they had been perfect angels.

“Swan, next year, just tell me to shut up and buy the damn school supplies at Dark Star.”

Emma chuckled, running her fingers through Killian’s dark hair. The children were burning off all their energy on the playground. Hopefully, they would all sleep on the trip home. Emma could have told Killian “I told you so,” but instead, she just kissed the top of his head. Killian’s phone dinged and Emma picked it up from where it sat on the table. She giggled when she saw what it was. She stuck the phone in front of Killian’s face. “Look how much you got back with savings catcher, honey.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian groaned, slumping forward to rest his forehead on the table, “you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Nope,” Emma replied, still laughing, “we got back a whopping twenty-nine cents. They say they’ll transfer it to a Wal-mart gift card.”

Killian lifted his head and scowled at Emma. She leaned over and began massaging his shoulders. Leaning even closer, she whispered in his ear, “You know, I did pick up a little something after I got all the school supplies. Something for me to wear . . . tonight.”

Killian suddenly sat up eagerly, all smiles. “Really?”

Emma withdrew a Wal-mart bag from her purse and dangled it teasingly in front of him. Killian snatched it out of her hands and peeked inside. His face fell. “That’s cruel, Swan.”

Emma’s laughter was spilling out now in hiccupping gasps. Briar Rose came bouncing over. “Mommy got you a present?” she asked, looking inside the bag. She pulled out the pink grandma nightgown. “Ooohh, Mommy, pretty! It’s got kitty cats!”

Emma doubled over laughing now, tears streaming down her face. Killian waggled a finger at her, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Just wait until tonight, Swan. I know how to wipe that grin right off your face.” As hideous as the nightgown may be, Killian knew it would look rather fetching in a heap on the ground after he had removed it from his Swan’s lovely figure.

Emma wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. She knew this wasn’t exactly the fun Killian had envisioned back in Neverland, but her husband versus the modern world was an endless source of amusement for Emma. She was suddenly eager for the holiday season.

She couldn’t wait to introduce Killian to lay-away.

#cs ff #future fic #no longer canon compliant #back to school humor #fluff #ridiculous shenanigans #daddy!killian #mommy!emma #walmart #my shopping with the captain series

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lovehairsaloninuk · 2 months

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Best Botoplexx Hair Treatment in Seven Kings at Love Hair Salon

Love Hair Salon is home to the top and best hairdresser in Seven Kings, which comes as no surprise given that every customer is treated like royalty there. These talented craftspeople carefully create hairstyles that highlight each client's distinctive characteristics and personality; they are more than just hairdressers. From traditional cuts to cutting-edge makeovers, they have the know-how to skillfully and artistically realize any vision. Love Hair Salon is the Best salon in Seven Kings and it's more than just a great place to get hair done; it's a beauty haven where clients can get pampered to the fullest. Every service is intended to accentuate your inherent beauty and leave you feeling renewed and invigorated. When it comes to frizz, breakage, or dullness, Botoplexx works its magic to bring out the finest in your hair's radiance. Experience the ultimate salon experience and learn why Love Hair Salon stands out from the competition.

#Love Hair Salon #Best salon in Seven Kings #Best hairdresser in Seven Kings #Botoplexx Hair treatment in Seven Kings

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newstfionline · 4 years

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Thursday, November 5, 2020

Presidential election: Race to 270 electoral votes still on (USA Today) By early Thursday, Joe Biden led with 264 electoral votes to 214 for President Trump, both short of the 270 necessary to win the presidency. Biden also had an edge in the popular vote. The Trump campaign announced Wednesday it is pursuing court actions to stop ballot counting in Michigan and Pennsylvania, and to prevent the counting of absentee ballots in Georgia that it claims arrived after an Election Day deadline. Launching a multi-state legal battle to secure a second White House term over Biden, the campaign also made plans to seek a recount in Wisconsin.

World waits nervously, impatiently for US vote count (AP) From Ford Model T cars that popped off the assembly line in just 90 minutes to 60-second service for burgers, the United States has had a major hand in making the world a frenetic and impatient place, primed and hungry for instant gratification. So waking up to the news Wednesday that the winner of the U.S. election might not be known for hours, days or weeks—pundits filled global airwaves with their best guesses—came as a shock to a planet weaned on that most American of exports: speed. But as world leaders generally refrained from commenting on the outcome until it was clear, the particularly fractious and contested nature of the vote was already sparking concerns overseas that the superpower’s sharp divisions and internal conflicts exposed by the election might endure long after the winner is declared. “The battle over the legitimacy of the result—whatever it will look like—has now begun,” said the German defense minister, Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer. “This is a very explosive situation. It is a situation of which experts rightly say it could lead to a constitutional crisis in the U.S.,” she said on ZDF television. “That is something that must certainly worry us very much.” Overall, uncertainty ruled. In the vacuum of no immediate winner, there was some gloating from Russia, Africa and other parts of the world that have repeatedly been on the receiving end of U.S. criticism, with claims that the election and the vote count were exposing the imperfections of American democracy. “Africa used to learn American democracy, America is now learning African democracy,” tweeted Nigerian Sen. Shehu Sani, reflecting a common view from some on a continent long used to troubled elections and U.S. criticism of them.

Fighting words (NYT) The disputed election was a “sham” and a blow to democratic traditions. The country was in “a crisis,” as rival electoral candidates had both declared victory. There were “convincing reports of serious irregularities with ballot counting and reporting of election results.” For four years, the U.S. government has offered stern words on disputed elections around the world. The condemnations fit into an American tradition of promoting democracy that dates to World War II and using pressure to fight autocratic rivals. The U.S. presidential election, which pits President Trump against Democratic challenger Joe Biden, looks to be as tense as any U.S. vote in living memory. Trump has previously refused to commit to a “peaceful transition of power.” With disputes over mail-in ballots and the electoral college likely to dominate the post-election discussion, U.S. democracy is already being called into question by election observers from groups such as the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe. Experts like Sarah Repucci, vice president of research and analysis at Freedom House, warn that other nations will be watching closely. “There’s an issue where people will say: ‘Well, who are you to tell us what to do?’ “ Repucci said. “ ‘You’re not doing it right yourself.’”

Some Americans say they want to leave if Trump wins again (USA Today) Some Americans have threatened to move to another country depending on the election outcome Tuesday, reminiscent of the dismay they felt after the 2016 presidential contest results. But not everyone ditched the USA as they claimed they would, including actor Samuel L. Jackson and comedian Jon Stewart. One sheriff in Ohio, Richard K. Jones, is already mocking celebrities who said they’d leave four years ago but didn’t. Now he’s offering a one-way ticket for them out of the country. Still, record numbers of Americans have wanted to flee in the U.S. in recent years during President Donald Trump’s administration, according to Gallup’s World Poll in 2019. The 16% of Americans who said in 2017 and again in 2018 that they would like to permanently move to another country is higher than the average levels during either the George W. Bush (11%) or Barack Obama administrations (10%). The number of Americans, particularly young women, who say they desire to leave the U.S. permanently is on the rise. In fact, 40% of women younger than 30 say they would like to leave, the study showed. An estimated 9 million U.S. citizens live overseas as of 2019, according to the State Department.

Hurricane Eta weakens to a tropical storm as it sets course toward US Gulf Coast after slamming Nicaragua (CNN) Tropical Storm Eta still has days of devastation in store for Central America, and after lingering there the storm is set to move on to the US coast. Reports of Eta’s catastrophic damage from rains, winds and flooding in Nicaragua and Honduras have begun to roll in, but it could be days until residents there are able to survey the totality of the impact. The slow-moving storm made landfall along the coast of Nicaragua as a Category 4 hurricane Tuesday afternoon. Eta had maximum sustained winds near 140 mph at landfall, but by Wednesday morning had dropped to tropical storm status with 70 mph winds, according to the National Hurricane Center. Though it has weakened, the storm will linger over the region for the coming days, bringing “catastrophic, life-threatening flash flooding, river flooding and mudslides,” according to the NHC.

Pints poured, retail therapy: England readies for lockdown (AP) Thirsty drinkers in England will be enjoying their final freshly poured pints in a pub for a month Wednesday while shoppers will get one last dose of retail therapy as the country prepares to join large swathes of Europe in lockdown as part of intensified efforts to contain the resurgent coronavirus. Pubs, along with restaurants, hairdressers and other retailing outlets deemed to be selling non-essential items, such as books and sneakers, will have to close their doors Thursday until at least Dec. 2 following a sudden change of course last weekend by the British government. Prime Minister Boris Johnson had for weeks argued in favor of more regional strategies to contain the virus, but said he had to be “humble in the face of nature.” England’s lockdown follows similar restrictions elsewhere in the U.K. and across Europe, as nations grapple with mounting new COVID-19 infections and clear signals that the number of people being hospitalized—and subsequently dying—from the virus are increasing,

Austrian attacker named (Foreign Policy) Austrian police have arrested at least 14 people in connection with Monday’s terrorist attacks in Vienna, which left four dead and 22 wounded. The arrests came as authorities identified the man they believe to be the sole assailant, Kujtim Fejzulai, a 20-year-old Austrian who had served time in prison for attempts to join the Islamic State in Syria. The Islamic State has claimed responsibility for the attack, although it is not yet known to what extent Fejzulai was affiliated with the group.

Spain’s former king Juan Carlos faces new corruption allegations (Guardian) Spain’s attorney general has instructed supreme court prosecutors to investigate new corruption allegations against the country’s disgraced former king. Juan Carlos, who abdicated in 2014, is already under investigation over his alleged role in a deal under which a Spanish consortium won a €6.7bn (£5.9bn) contract to build a high-speed rail line in Saudi Arabia. Reports emerged in March suggesting Juan Carlos had received a $100m (€88m) payment from Saudi Arabia’s King Abdullah in 2008, three years before the contract was awarded. The king was covered by constitutional immunity while on the throne, but lost the protection when he stepped down to make way for his son, King Felipe. The attorney general’s office did not give details of the new investigation. Juan Carlos announced in August that he was going into exile to protect his son from further embarrassment. In a letter sent to Felipe and released by the royal house, Juan Carlos said he would move from Spain because of the “public repercussions that certain past events in my private life are causing”.

Facing pandemic economic woes, Nepal reopens to adventurers (AP) Adventurers looking to scale Nepal’s Himalayan peaks and trek its mountain trails can finally do so for the first time in seven months, as the country reopens to foreigners even as the coronavirus pandemic has left it short of hospital beds. Foreign visitors are a major source of income for Nepal and the closure has impacted the estimated 800,000 people who work in the tourism industry. For now the reopening will come with restrictions and mainly be limited to those seeking to climb or trek its famous peaks. Nepal is home to the eight of the 14 highest mountains in the world, including the tallest, Mount Everest.

China punishes Australia, again (Foreign Policy) The relationship between Canberra and Beijing hit another new low this week, after China effectively imposed tens of billions of dollars in trade curbs on wine, barley, sugar, and other goods—but wouldn’t admit to them. Imposing unofficial boycotts and increased costs is part of Beijing’s playbook, such as the harassment of South Korean firms after the decision to install a U.S. missile-defense system there. Such use of state power violates trade rules, but complaints aren’t likely to move the Chinese government.

As Japan moves to revive its countryside, pandemic chases many from cities (Reuters) When the coronavirus outbreak caused rice and instant noodles to disappear from supermarket shelves in Tokyo this year, Kaoru Okada, 36, decided to leave the capital because he was worried about food security. Okada settled in the central Japanese city of Saku, Nagano prefecture, about 160 kilometres (100 miles) northwest of Tokyo, maintaining his online retail and export business while growing vegetables in shared farms and threshing rice. “Living close to a food-producing centre and connections with farmers give me a sense of security,” Okada said. As the pandemic has pushed many companies to allow telecommuting, it has also caused population to flow out of Tokyo—the first time that has happened in years, the latest government data showed. The shift could boost Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga, who made revitalising Japan’s decaying rural regions a core plank of his socioeconomic platform. Despite a lack of jobs and infrastructure to support them, local governments and businesses have been trying for years—largely in vain—to draw more people to rural areas.

Ethiopia sends army into Tigray region, heavy fighting reported (Reuters) Heavy fighting broke out in Ethiopia’s Tigray region on Wednesday, diplomatic sources said, after the prime minister launched military operations in response to what he said was an attack on federal troops. In September, Tigray held regional elections in defiance of the federal government, which called the vote “illegal”. The row has escalated in recent days with both sides accusing each other of plotting a military conflict. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed’s office said that early on Wednesday, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) tried to steal artillery and other equipment from federal forces stationed there. “The last red line has been crossed with this morning’s attacks and the federal government is therefore forced into a military confrontation,” it said, adding that the aim was to prevent instability engulfing the country and region. Tigrayans ruled Ethiopian politics since guerrilla fighters ousted a Marxist dictator in 1991, but their influence has waned under Abiy. Last year, the TPLF quit his ruling coalition. Since Abiy came to power in 2018, many senior Tigrayan officials have been detained, fired or sidelined, in what the federal government describes as a clamp-down on corruption but Tigrayans see as a means to quell dissent.

Ivory Coast police surround opposition leaders’ houses (Reuters) Police in Ivory Coast surrounded the houses of two of President Alassane Ouattara’s main rivals on Tuesday after the government accused them of sedition for creating a parallel administration in defiance of Ouattara’s landslide win in Saturday’s election. It was not immediately clear if anyone had been arrested. But the moves deepened a bitter standoff over the president’s bid for a third term that has cost more than 35 lives since August, including at least five during election day on Saturday. The dispute followed a campaign marred by violent clashes between Ouattara’s supporters and opponents that spurred fears of longer term unrest. More than 3,000 people were killed in a brief civil war that followed a 2010 election that brought Ouattara to power.

#headlines #news

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bigyack-com · 4 years

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Caribbean Spas: Resorts for a Wellness Jaunt

Reducing stress and anxiety are very important to travelers in 2020 — that’s according to a recent survey that Virtuoso conducted among its advisors specializing in the growing wellness niche. The advisors named meditation and mindfulness as the top wellness travel activity and cited spiritual and mental wellness as significant emerging trends. So, if you’re looking for a wellness jaunt, consider these Caribbean spas. The Westin Grand Cayman Seven Mile Beach Resort & Spa “promotes a total lifestyle approach that encompasses the entire person — body, mind and soul — in order to provide the most complete and beneficial services” for its guests. Case in point: The Hibiscus Spa is a big draw for travelers. The 7,000-square-foot facility has 13 treatment rooms, two steam and sauna rooms, a women’s whirlpool and Vichy showers. The most requested treatment is the Ultimate Oxygen Facial, an infusion treatment designed to combat signs and symptoms of aging. The treatment uses hyperbaric oxygen to infuse a combination of antioxidant and hyaluronic acids into the skin, making it look healthier and younger than ever before. Tip: For the Ultimate Oxygen Facial, be sure to request Marie Myers; she is also the top choice for the HydraFacial and Seven Chakras Ritual. Spa director Yarlin Faurer () says she is extremely proud of her team and that everyone is highly requested. The short list: Ask for Sharmin Durant or Marsha Williams for the Herbal Therapeutic Massage Ritual; Sonya Bryne for therapeutic and trigger points massages, such as the Sports Deep Tissue Massage; Susana Tellaroli or Loma Fisher for manis and pedis; Joanna Bond for acupuncture; and Deborah Charttersingh for the Relaxation Swedish Massage. If you’re traveling with your special someone, consider the Heaven on Seven Mile, which includes a beach spa treatment and private gazebo dinner. The evening starts with a 60-minute couples massage on the beach in the spa cabana (a must-book, regardless of the occasion); afterwards, guests head to their private gazebo on the sand for a three-course dinner arranged by the resort’s Beach House restaurant — sparkling wine and personal butler included. Other services include massages, body scrubs and wraps, manicures and pedicures, and waxing and tinting. Combination packages are also available, which can range from two to five hours. It’s recommended to book as early as possible for any treatment to secure the desired date and time. For guests looking to keep active, the Westin Grand Cayman Seven Mile Beach Resort & Spa can arrange for horseback riding, kayaking, scuba diving, snorkeling or hikes in a nature trail. As for accommodations, we would pick the Beachfront Lanai rooms. These king bedrooms are located on the ground floor and offer private patios with walk-out access to the beach. For families who prefer two queen beds, the Beachfront Lanai rooms offer this set up, as well. If you prefer more space, the One Bedroom Suite (780 square feet compared to 392 square feet for the Beachfront Lanais) is the way to go. In December, the Westin Grand Cayman Seven Mile Beach Resort & Spa unveiled the updated Tortuga Beach Grill & Bar. Following a $1 million kitchen renovation, the beachfront restaurant now offers an expanded daytime menu with more refined dining choices at night. Tip: Be sure to visit in the evening, as live acoustic music most nights accompanies the sunset. This month, Cayman Coffee Exchange will reopen having tripled in size. In addition to all-day, grab-and-go options for breakfast, sandwiches, salads and gelato, indoor and outdoor café seating is now available. The newest addition to the restaurant lineup will be the opening of Woto, the resort’s sushi, poke and sake restaurant. For hotel reservations, travel advisors can reach reservation manager Katerina Iliaskou ().

The Mandara Spa at Atlantis, Paradise Island is a 30,000-square-foot facility with 32 private treatment rooms. Another option is the Mandara Spa at Atlantis, Paradise Island. The 30,000-square-foot spa has 32 private treatment rooms, two couple’s villas and two couple’s spa suites with private bathing amenities (yes, please!). The most requested service is the Mandara Customized Massage (tailored specifically to the guests’ needs); however, Mandara Spa at Atlantis has just introduced its new Bahamian-inspired massages with ingredients and traditions indigenous to The Bahamas. Luxury Travel Advisor is told the resort has, in recent years, focused extensively on tying the guest experience back to the spirit of the country and authentic cultural traditions. As for those new spa services, options include the Bahamas Botanical Massage (50 minutes), which uses a selection of native ingredients. Multiple options allow guests to personalize the treatment: One such option (Bahamian Lullaby) is designed to loosen muscles and “melt away tension and stress;” it uses soursop leaf, fevergrass and hibiscus. Island Zest, another option, uses peppermint and neem, and is an energizing formula, while Caribbean Calm reduces inflammation with sandalwood, grapefruit, rosemary and five-finger leaf. The Bahamian Bush Bath (25 minutes) is a hydrotherapy treatment that uses soursop, feather leaf, cinnamon, orange, rose and essential oils to create a fragrant, fizzy, relaxing experience. Good to know: The resort offers a selection of couple’s massages, ranging from 50 to 80 minutes. Mandara Spa at Atlantis has a variety of seasoned service providers, all of whom have been with the resort for more than six years. They are: Samantha Munnings, Frederica McPhee, Delerese Maycock and Bridgette Barry (all dual); Ava Fowler and Allison Collie (massage); and Leanthe Gibson (esthetician). Youlanda Deveaux () is the regional vice president of Mandara Spa and is based on-property at Atlantis, Paradise Island. Be sure to eserve your treatment when booking your hotel stay. Among other parts of the resort, The Cove, the resort’s ultra-luxury tower, has recently been renovated. This 600-suite section of the resort is set between Cove and Paradise Beaches, which creates the feeling of being on your own private beach. The Cove has its own open-air lobby, retail store, dining (including chef Jose Andres’ only Bahamas residence), an exclusive pool with lavish cabanas and more. Good to know: The spa has set up a special Mandara Spa at The Cove Pool Cabana menu for guests who want to book private massages and treatments at The Cove’s adults-only pool. If you want the top-of-the-top, book one of the Penthouse Suites, which each occupy a single-story enclave overlooking the Caribbean. Features include vaulted ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides, two master bedrooms and baths, large parlors, separate dining rooms, full-service kitchens, guest powder rooms, executive offices and full media rooms. Guests booking these rooms receive pre-arrival concierge service, complimentary private transportation, in-suite check-in and 24-hour butler service. Even the lowest room categories at The Cove (Ocean Suites) are impressive. These split-level accommodations range from 672 to 784 square feet and offer full or partial ocean views. Other amenities include French balconies, walk-in closets, and marble and granite bathrooms. In addition to The Cove, Atlantis also renovated The Coral, The Beach and The Reef; however, the next best in terms of accommodations can be found at The Royal. These rooms have a more opulent décor than the rooms in The Cove, which have a contemporary look. For the best views at The Royal, book the Bridge Suite, which spans 4,740 square feet (topping the Penthouse Suites, which come in at 4,070 square feet). This suite has 10 rooms, including a 1,250-square-foot living room with a grand piano and twin entertainment centers, a dining room with a 22-karat gold chandelier and 12-foot ceilings; it also comes with a staff of seven butlers and attendants. Travel advisors may contact Megan Prieto (), director of leisure sales, with any enquiries.

Sugar Beach, A Viceroy Resort is set on the site of an 18th-century sugar plantation and has great views of the Pitons. In Saint Lucia, travelers should consider Sugar Beach, A Viceroy Resort. While the Pitons, which surround the resort, beckon to the adventurous traveler, its setting (within more than 100 acres of rainforest on the site of an 18th-century sugar plantation) makes it worthy of a spa escape. Here, the Rainforest Spa utilizes the nourishing ingredients of nearby volcanic springs and fertile cocoa plantations. Signature treatments include bamboo massages, hot rock therapies, facials, body wraps, salt scrubs, polishes and holistic treatments. There are six tree house treatment gazebos and three double treatment rooms with a hydrotherapy facility, as well as a manicure and pedicure room with a temazcal (an earthen, Amerindian steam dome), a beauty suite with a hairdressing salon and skin / facial treatment room, and an open-air gazebo suspended over running water at the base of Petit Piton. Good to know: The spa uses all-natural ingredients such as bananas to firm, tighten and smooth away wrinkles; coconut to exfoliate; aloe vera to rejuvenate; and cocoa butter to heal and hydrate. The Rainforest Ultimate Couples Experience is the most popular treatment; it includes an Organic Sea Salt and Raw Coconut Scrub, followed by a massage with local coconut oil and finishes with a facial. Afterwards — our favorite part — guests will enjoy lunch with a bottle of bubbly in the couple’s room and will have time to enjoy the private outdoor pool. The package is three hours, including lunch and poolside relaxation. Another signature and often-requested treatment is the Coconut Milk Healing Massage, a full body massage that uses locally made body butter that’s enriched with Vitamin E, which helps support the immune system and skin health (meaning it’s great if you get a little too much sun). The two most requested therapists are Vernanka and Leah. Vernanka is a senior therapist who specializes in CACI treatments, and Leah is requested mainly for massages and manicure / pedicure services. Be sure to book at least 21 days prior to arrival with Julie De Brito (), director of spa. All rooms at Sugar Beach have plunge pool, butler service (dedicated cellphone included), turndown service, an in-room iPad and more. Our favorite rooms are the Ocean View Grand Luxury Villas — these have the best views of the beach and Petit Piton, which you can take in from your terrace with a plunge pool. If you prefer to be beachside, we would opt for the Luxury Beachfront Bungalow. If it’s space you’re after, there is a selection of residences ranging from one to four bedrooms. Don’t-miss events include Social Sundowns, held every Tuesday with cocktails; Champagne Sunset Cruises, available thrice weekly; Caribbean BBQ Night with live music each Friday and — if you’re looking for a livelier experience — Sugar Beats at Cane Bar, where a live DJ performs. Karen Giordano (), regional director of sales, can handle bookings.

Just Back: Turks & Caicos Couple’s Spas in the Caribbean and Hawaii Amanyara Debuts New Wellness Immersions for 2020 The Loren at Pink Beach Opens Sisley Spa Read the full article

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shannrussell-blog1 · 5 years

Photo

In part one of this series, I gave you all the details on what you need to know when planning and booking your trip to the USA, which you can check out here.

In part two, I cover off some advice about transport, how tipping works, including who to tip and how much; what to expect with American food; and handy advice about WIFI, shopping, theme parks and much more.

So, if you’re a tourist heading to the States, let’s get started!

Avoid peak travel times

It goes without saying really but try and not travel during peak times because it will take way longer and be costlier, especially when venturing to the airport. Also, when you’re booking your flights, ensure there is transport available at your arrival times.

I once arrived at LaGuardia airport in NYC after midnight only to find public transport had stopped for the night and there were only a few taxis coming back and forth at that time. Luckily, I got one but we broke down on the ride there. That’s another story.

If you have to travel in peak hour, ensure you leave extra time for your journey.

Be aware that traffic is travelling in a different direction

Traffic is driven on the opposite side of the road to Australia (so the right). Get in the habit of looking both ways when crossing just in case you forget. This also helps when you get home because it can take a little while to adjust back, especially if you’ve travelled there for longer than 2 months. This goes for when walking past people too. You may find you will do a funky dance with people as they subconsciously expect you to go past them on their right rather than their left.

City bus tours

Hop on/ hop off buses are a great way to check out most US cities. You can buy tickets online ahead of time, onboard or at certain stops. It can sometimes be cheaper to buy at the stops as the guides can suggest which bus routes would be best for what you want to see. The buses give you an idea of the city super quick without your legs getting exhausted.

Bring sunscreen, a

The hop on / hop off bus tour in NYC is a great way to see the city without getting tired.

Driving in the USA with an Australian license

If you’re on a holiday visa in the USA, there are some states that will allow you to drive with your Australian license for a short period of time. But, I would recommend that if you want to be covered, especially when driving across the US, obtain an International Driver’s Permit before you leave Australia.

A tip for driving is that in most US cities, there aren’t many roundabouts so there is the rule that you can turn right on a red light. For more information on foreigners driving in the US, check out this link here, and to find out about road rules in each state, you can find them here.

Uber

Uber Pool is big in the States and is more affordable than ordering a separate Uber for just yourself. And, if you are a solo traveller, you can meet other adventurers along your journey. Keep in mind though it will often take longer to get to your destination as you will pick up/ drop off other passengers along the way. Also, consider your luggage size and the possibility that it may not fit in the boot, especially if you get picked up last.

When booking with Uber or Lyft, always select on the map where to get picked up from and think about the direction of the traffic. Consider where your pick up location is first before booking as some hotels will only have certain areas that they allow for you to be picked up from.

Keep in mind that some airport locations don’t use Uber because they want to stay loyal to the taxi and shuttle service. I always ask the customer service desk at the airport as they will let you know and give you the best advice about your travel options.

Looking down at all the Uber drivers from the John Hancock Center in Chicago.

Money & Tipping

How much should you tip?

In terms of tipping for service – 20% is polite, 15% is okay and 10% is rude. Nothing at all is a real slap in the face, even if you think the service was poor. You are not obliged to tip if you think the service was terrible but you may find walking out the door to be very awkward.

Tips are a custom that is given to service related workers, such as taxi drivers, waiters, tour guides, massage therapists and ski instructors. Workers in retail, such as clothing stores, do not need to be tipped. Here are some services that you may ask how to tip for…

USA Tipping guide:

Bag Porter – $1-2 per bag.

Bartenders /Casino drink servers – $1-2 per drink.

Gas Stations – No tipping required. You may tip the pump attendant if they fill your gas when there is also a self-serve option. Or, you may want to tip them $1-2 if they check your oil or help you with directions, or it’s boiling outside or freezing cold. More of a courtesy really.

Hairdressers/ Barbers – $5-$10 per head.

Hotel housekeeping – $2-3 per night in medium to high-end hotels (per couple).

Supermarkets – No tip required. $1-2 per bag if someone helps you to your car.

Uber – No tipping required. You can tip through the app if you want to though.

Valet parking – $2-5 when picking up your car.

Australians are known for not tipping well in America, but you also don’t want to tip more because they simply suggest you do. This is a common theme with tour guides. Stick with 15-20% as a rule of thumb, plus my suggested tips above, and you’ll be set for your stay.

Hot tip! Make sure you get plenty of $1 notes when transferring your cash before you go. It’s always awkward giving the taxi driver a $10 ‘tip’ and asking for $8 worth of change.

Food prices don’t include tax

Food prices generally don’t include tax. Each state is different, so the amount will change depending on where you are.

Be warned because at first, it may seem as though you’re getting a great deal when looking over the menu, so to get a realistic idea of how much your meal will cost, add tax (could be over 9%) and how much you’ll tip and that will answer the cost of your meal. This is particularly useful when going to fancier restaurants if you choose to.

When it comes to tipping, 15-20% is what’s considered polite.

ATM limits in the US

You can only withdraw up to $500USD at most American ATMs, but if you wish to withdraw more, you need to bring your passport to a bank for them to organise with your card. Be mindful of the fees you will likely incur when using your card before you go, so you don’t get an unexpected transaction charge from your bank.

Carrying cash

There are seven denominations of United States currency, which comes in $100 (also known as a ‘Benjamin Franklin’), $50, $20, $10, $5, $2 and $1 dollar bank notes. The coins available include $1, 50c (rare coin to see), 25c (quarter), 10c (dime), 5c (nickel) and 1c (penny). The banknotes are made of paper so try not to scrunch them up too much or keep them in your pockets… you may accidentally wash them.

Always carry smaller bills with you when going to everyday places in the United States. I tried to buy an $8 meal from Starbucks once with a $100 bill and was turned down because it was too large. When getting your money exchanged, request smaller bills. Often, money exchange companies will give you larger bills because it is easier to count and exchange over to you.

Carry small change with you, especially for street vendors.

Deposits on hotel rooms

When checking into your hotel, you will likely have to put a deposit down. This can be fantastic if you want to use the credit to buy food, drinks or services in the hotel and just assign it to your room. Usually, the hotel is taking your money in case you don’t pay for things or you trash your room.

Beware of hotel deposits when travelling on a shoestring! They’ll getcha! I was checking into a hotel for 3 nights and they wanted to take out $600! And, this wasn’t including the cost of my room. It was at the end of my trip, so I didn’t have a lot of cash on me. I managed to negotiate down to a $300 deposit. Still a chunk considering that’s US dollars!

It took 10 business days to see the money back in my bank account after. It’s worth noting to keep a deposit stash of money aside if you’re going to a bunch of hotels in a short period of time over there.

Put aside some money for a deposit when staying consecutively in hotels.

The best time to exchange your cash

Compare rates between money exchange companies to give you the best deal. This is particularly useful if they are in close proximity to each other. Another good option is to order your US money ahead of time, before your trip. You can do this over the phone and request exactly what you need (20 x $10 banknotes, etc.).

If they don’t have the notes at the location, then at least they can order it in and save you a trip down there. Often there is one person working at these booths so expect to wait when rocking up to collect.

Food & Drink

Beware of food serving sizes

Food servings are usually ginormous, so keep in mind that most restaurants can offer you a doggy bag if you don’t finish your meal. Great to pop in your hotel or communal hostel fridge for a snack later on, or a meal for the next day.

A small meal at McDonald’s is like a large sized one here. Be warned because you will be regretting it when you have a food coma shortly after.

The fast-food menus are different

If you love KFC in Australia, it is completely different over in the states. I don’t mean it’s bad, I just mean if you’re hanging out for a Zinger burger you won’t likely find one there. The same goes for Wendy’s.

So, even if food chains have the same name as in Australia, they likely have a completely different menu. This can sometimes be the case even for places like McDonald’s and Burger King (aka Hungry Jacks).

What to expect with differences in food

Terms like biscuits are not cookies over there, they’re more like a scone. Capsicum is a non-existent term, they are referred to as bell peppers, which is good to know when ordering at a Subway restaurant. Lemonade is not like Australian lemonade. It’s a non-bubbly sugary lemon drink, so if you’re after an Australian lemonade, ask for a Sprite or 7UP instead.

Tomato sauce is referred to as Ketchup. If you’re in Chicago, whatever you do, don’t ask for tomato sauce on your Chicago hot dog! They will laugh at you! You may hear about the term, s’mores, which are referred to as ‘some mores’. They’re a great treat for around the campsite.

Cheese can look kind of orange in the States. This is common but can be weird to notice at first considering most cheeses in Australia are yellowish or white. If you see orange cheese, it usually means it’s been dyed. Traditionally, orange cheese was considered to be more authentic cheese to the consumer. Long story short – not to worry, it’s still cheese and tastes amazing as per other cheeses at home.

Expect huge meals, and funny looks if you ask for tomato sauce!

Nutritional info on meals in restaurants

In the USA, most restaurants, particularly chains, will have nutritional information on the menu. This is superb if you’re looking for something that is lower calorie, especially if you’ve been gorging yourself.

Here’s a hot tip, most Cheesecake Factory restaurants (they don’t just have cake) have a SkinnyLicious® menu. These meals are calorie conscious and I believe are just as tasty. Plus, you will likely feel more energised after eating rather than feel like you want to take a nap.

Beverages

Most places where you can get a drink, like a bar or a club, don’t monitor their alcohol pouring. You’ll find the drinks to be a lot stronger. So, bear this in mind particularly when you’re driving or if you wonder why your head hurts so much the next day.

Coke Zero is quite big in Australia, so I found it unusual that they don’t usually have it in American restaurants. Diet Coke is your next best option.

You will be surprised at how many extra soft drinks they have over in the States, like Pepsi with cherry flavour. The names are slightly different, so if you’re after a Pepsi Max, it is often called Pepsi Light or Diet Pepsi.

Hot tea is not a common drink in the US but iced tea is. And, it isn’t a cold version of a savoury hot tea but a sugary drink that can be quite refreshing. Keep a lookout for them at most restaurants and 7-Elevens.

Top places I would go to for food in the States are:

Buffalo Wild Wings in Times Square, NYC;

Wahlburgers in Boston;

RPM Chicago in Chicago;

Avila’s (Tex-Mex) in Dallas;

In-N-Out Burger in Los Angeles;

Cheesecake Factory anywhere but I love the Nashville one;

Buffet dinner at the Wynn Hotel in Las Vegas;

Patio (American Grill & Cocktail Bar) in Provincetown, Cape Cod… try the lobster! A-maa-zing!

The Thanksgiving burger at Wahlburgers in Boston is not to be missed – delicious!

Identification for bars and clubs

If you’re up for a bit of dancing or want to check out the club scene, expect to be patted down and have your passport scanned. Your Australian Driver’s license doesn’t cut it because it is not a known ID to them and could easily be faked.

You won’t be allowed in with a backpack either, so I wouldn’t even try if you have one with you, to be honest. This may seem frustrating, but it will give you peace of mind knowing that you’re in a safe haven inside as everyone is held to the same security standards.

Check off those once in a lifetime experiences

Travelling anywhere can give you the opportunity to do things you wouldn’t normally do in your everyday life. Experience that high thrill ride ‘Tilt‘ in Chicago or take that helicopter flight to the Grand Canyon at Sunset.

I am a nervous flyer, but the Grand Canyon flight was one of the most breathtaking experiences I’ve ever had, and I felt like such a thrill-seeker after tilting 1000 feet down towards the magnificent mile in Chicago. I was so happy with myself to put aside to just give them a go. As cheesy as the saying goes – YOLO!

The helicopter flight I took across the Grand Canyon was an unbelievable experience.

Use WIFI hotspots

There are hundreds of free WIFI hotspots across America if you want to take a squiz. Usually, hotels offer free WIFI but check when booking beforehand.

Never access your banking or personal information when accessing unsecured free WIFI. You never know who can access your information and you can set yourself up to be hacked.

Download Netflix shows before going to the airport. The WIFI isn’t great so you wouldn’t want to find your show hasn’t downloaded before boarding!

Take a power board and adaptor

Take a power board and a travel adaptor suitable for the States. This way you can plug multiple Australian cords in without having to buy separate adaptors. Also, there are two styles of US adaptors available out there (one with the earth connection and one without), so be aware as to which one you need for your appliances and keep in mind that some places in the States will only have two pin power access in the wall.

US voltage is lower than what we have in Australia. This will explain why your Australian hair dryer may be less powerful than normally at home.

Storing your luggage between checking into hotels

If you’ve realised that you need to check out of your Airbnb early but don’t have a flight until later on – find a hotel where they have a baggage storage room and say you’re just checking out. Sometimes if you’re lucky, they will take your name down and hold them for you. If this doesn’t work, you still have the option of storing at a paid locker at a train station.

Getting talk show tickets

If you love American TV shows, particularly talk shows, check online what you want to see and put in a request for audience tickets way ahead of time. Just make sure they’re in the city you’re going to as most are either on the west or east side of America. Do this in advance and leave the days you want to see the show open to give you more of a chance. Be mindful that most shows will go on hiatus during summer.

All tickets are free, so if they don’t fill up for the day, they give out tickets on the street. My brother and I managed to score tickets to ‘The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson’ back in 2014 as we were approached on Hollywood Blvd. You have to forfeit your phone though, but it is quite an experience to see the set and you might catch a free t-shirt!

You gotta go to Universal Studios Hollywood if you’re a film buff like me.

Themeparks

There are lots of theme parks in the States, all offering a different experience. My top parks are Disneyland, Six Flags and Universal Studios. So, have a look into what experience you’re after, and choose wisely depending on who you’re travelling with. If you go to Six flags with children under the rollercoaster height limit, they will not be able to participate which can put a dampener on the day.

Pharmacies are like mini-supermarkets

Always be on the lookout for a CVS pharmacy or a Walgreens. They have an array of snacks and everything you need just like supermarkets, but with the disguise of a name that sounds less accurate for a supermarket.

If you need a snack or drink, a pharmacy is like a mini supermarket, which is super handy.

Shopping

If you’re a person that loves makeup, you will want to check out the options available in the United States. There is a diverse range but most importantly, it’s a lot cheaper! Say it with me…Sephora, Sephora, Sephora!

If you love a good sports cap like me, look out for the authentic merchandise at places, like Lids. They have different styles, including men’s and women’s, and different sizes (even in width) depending on what you’re after. You can even have them customised with your name if you’d like as well.

Claiming GST back on goods

If you buy goods in the 60 days leading up to a trip and they equal $300AUD or more, including GST, you can claim your 10% GST back at an Australian international airport if you’re taking the goods with you in your carry-on. For more information, head to The Tourist Refund Scheme (TRS).

I bought a pair of Bose noise-cancelling headphones, which meant I could claim $50 back in tax. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it in time to claim my refund because the line was too long. I’d suggest getting there between 2-4 hours earlier before your flight if you want to claim. Well, that’s if you don’t want to lose out on $$$ like I did.

Tourists hotspots

If you love the States, there is no doubt millions of other people around the world do too. So, no matter what the season, expect to be surrounded by many people, particularly in tourist spots. I was shocked when visiting Waikiki beach to find I had to scramble for an area that was more than 2 metres away from someone else.

Be prepared for the crowds wherever you go in the US.

Using the toilets/bathrooms

I’m afraid to say it, but the toilets I’ve seen don’t flush the other way to us. They suck down in one go. If you notice that there’s no handle on your toilet, finish doing your business, stand up, and in a couple of seconds, it will flush. Also, don’t be alarmed that the bathroom doors have a large crack in between the door and the stall. You get used to it after a while, especially if you ignore it.

If you want to use a toilet while out, particularly in populated areas, you will likely need to buy something to get the code for access to the toilet. Often it will be at the bottom of your receipt. This is to deter people from just coming in just to use the bathroom, particularly at places like McDonalds and Starbucks.

Also, the polite way to ask where the toilet is in the US is to ask where the ‘bathroom’ or ‘restroom’ is. These mean the same thing but ‘restroom’ is used more frequently in restaurants, malls, bars and public places.

So, there you have it, these are all of my best tips and advice for travelling to the states. Whether you’re still planning your trip, or you’re about to set off on your adventure – safe travels and we hope to see ya’ll back here real soon now, ya hear?

If you’ve been to America, what was your favourite experience when you were travelling there?

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